Completely Mine: Bliss Series, Book Four

by Hall, Deanndra

  * * *

  “Oh, babe, that’s so awesome!” Cirilla gushes. Good lord, you would think I’d won an Oscar or something, the way she’s going on as she’s clicking away on her laptop.

  “It’s just a big charity event. Nothing spectacular. I hear there’s―”

  “Nothing spectacular? Take a look at this.” She spins her laptop and there on the screen are pictures from the last five of these events. Oh, god, I see at least one major movie star in the pics―no, wait, there are two more. Three. And is that the hockey player who’s so popular right now? The one who wrote the book about the importance of good dental work? He’s been on every talk show in the nation, and I hear he’s getting ready to release another about healthy bones.

  “Wow. That’s pretty impressive.”

  “Yeah. Take a look at this,” she says, clicking something, and spins the laptop again.

  Holy shit, it’s the vice-president. Not the vice-president of the organization―the vice-president of the nation. Now I’m scared. I can’t pull this off. Nobody can. No wonder they’re wanting new blood. In order to get everyone to come, we’re going to have to offer something totally fresh. “She wants me to chair this thing. I’m going to have to come up with something really fantastic.”

  “Be thinking about it and I will too. We’ll come up with something unique. Right now, we’ve got a couple of contracts that came in this afternoon and they need to be scanned and sent into the document signing program, so I’ve got to get on that. What else do you have?”

  “Nothing that I know of. The guy sitting at the table with me said I’d have to find a bunch of sponsors, so I think I’ll sit down and look up people I used to go to school with here. If any of them are business owners, I might be able to reconnect with them and get them to donate.” I’m overwhelmed at the moment, thinking about all the things that’ll have to be done for this event.

  I sit down in my desk chair and in seconds, she leans down and kisses the back of my neck, sending a chill down my spine. “I know you’ll be able to handle it. You’re brilliant.”

  That’s me. Brilliant Brian. The man who’s not smart enough to say no.

  * * *

  Dear god, I’m tired. The week has been full of meetings with property owners, scouting property, finding old college connections, and working the club in the evenings. I have to say, it’s easier with Cirilla. She helps clean up and makes sure everything’s taken care of before we leave. I also cleared her to do some simple scening with a few of the Doms who’ve never managed to find a submissive, as long as it doesn’t entail sex, and I have to admit, they like her and she seems to enjoy it.

  “Bliss. Zimmer speaking,” I say as I answer the phone on Friday night.

  “What the hell are you up to?”

  “I’m working and you’re sitting on your ass, am I right?”

  Dave laughs heartily. “Yep! But I’ve got a baby in my lap, so it’s not like I’m doing nothing.”

  “Right, right. What’s up?”

  “Got a question. Clint, Trish, Steffen, and Sheila been coming in there and scening?”

  “Yep.”

  “They been scening together?”

  “Yep.” Now I know where this is going.

  “They been swapping in their scenes?”

  “Yep.”

  “God damn it, I told them not to do that. It’ll eventually ruin their relationships with each other all the way around. Damn kids won’t listen to anybody. They think they know everything.”

  “Spoken like a true geezer,” I say with a chuckle.

  “Well, thanks for backing me on this, Zimmer,” he snarls.

  “Glad I could be of help. You know I can’t say anything. They’re members and it’s all consensual, so there’s nothing I can do about it short of revoking their memberships. And that’s going to be hard to do, seeing as the reason would be ‘because Dave says so.’ I somehow don’t think that’s valid.”

  He lets out an aggravated sigh. “Would you at least counsel them? Maybe coming from somebody other than me it would―”

  “Yes. I’ll do that. No promises, though.”

  “Thanks. Everything going okay with you?”

  “Yes. Had a little hiccup the other night, but we got it worked out, I think.”

  “You think. You don’t know?” he asks.

  “I think so. I’ve got to watch myself. I was really over the top with the way I was treating her in play. She says she liked it, but I felt like it was very destructive to the relationship, and I can’t do that again. I’ve got to be more careful.”

  “Uh-huh. You’ve always had a penchant for playing very rough. It’s always been a situation where they either wanted to play with you over and over because you were so fucking rough, or they scened with you once and never wanted to scene with you again. You’re an either/or, buddy―nothing in between.”

  “Yeah. I realize that. But I got her a promise ring and we’re working on everything. Oh, and hey, I got asked by the president of HQSeattle to be the chair of the annual children’s cancer center event.”

  “Oh-ho-ho!” he laughs. “That’s a great honor! You going to do it?”

  “I feel like I have to. Cirilla says it’ll be a very good way for me to get to know people in the business community here.” I don’t want to tell him I’m scared shitless.

  “I think she’s right. Good luck. I’d say I’ll help you but, honest to god, I’ve got my hands full with this woman and this baby.”

  In the background, I hear Olivia bark, “Stop calling me ‘this woman!’”

  “Lucky old bastard,” I growl at him playfully.

  “Yeah, that’s me. Lucky old bastard. So you talk to those hard-headed kids, Brian, and I’ll talk to you later. See ya.”

  “Yeah, bye. Talk to you soon.”

  The club is pretty busy and in just a few minutes, Cirilla comes sashaying up to the bar. “Hey, sir, play with me?”

  “Subbie, I’ve got a bar to run and―”

  “Please?” she whines. God, I hate it when she does that. I can’t say no.

  “But who’ll―”

  “I’ll do it,” a regular named Joseph says. “I can man the bar long enough to let you scene with your beautiful submissive. Got a price list back here somewhere?”

  “Yeah. Right beside the register. Okay. We won’t be long,” I tell him as Cirilla drags me toward the performance areas.

  In minutes, I’ve got her bound on the St. Andrew’s and I’m working her nipples over as a vibrator on a stand drives her nuts. “Please, sir, may I come? Please?” I hear her whine.

  “No. Not yet. You need to wait,” I tell her as I tie a ribbon around each nipple, then tie them together. As soon as the binding is complete, I grab a cane and start caning her tits. I smack each one five times, then fondle her nipple before I go to the other tit, and she squirms and cries out. When I finally let them go, she shrieks. “Okay, submissive, come whenever you want.”

  A guttural sound comes from her throat and it grows to a roar by the time it passes through her lips. Her body is completely rigid, jerking and spasming, and I want desperately to fuck her, but I don’t want to do that in front of everyone. When I switch off the vibrator, I loosen all the bindings except her nipples and carry her to a private room.

  And that’s where I fuck her. I stab into her like a buck tending a doe in heat, gasping and pounding until I finally come. In that brief time period, I feel her tense around me twice, so I know she came too. I’m careful as I remove the nipple bindings to let the blood flow back into them slowly, but she still cries out. I try to cuddle her, but she rolls to her back beside me and uses my outstretched arm as a pillow. “No, too hot,” she whispers.

  “Okay.” We lie there, staring at the ceiling, until I ask, “How was that?”

  “Hot, sir. In more ways than one. I love scening in front of groups.”

  “Yeah? We’ll do it more often then. Maybe I should hire a part-time bartender.”


  “You could.” There’s a few minutes of silence before she asks, “Brian, are you happy?”

  “Honestly, I think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. The only thing that would make me happier is if you’d tell me your secret.” When she doesn’t say anything, I ask, “Cirilla? Anything to say?”

  “I wish I could tell you, really, I do. But I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  “No. I can’t.” She sits up, then stands and starts drawing her fetwear back on. “And I wish you’d quit asking me. I can’t. End of story.”

  “Okay, okay! Don’t get all mad.”

  “I’m not mad. I’m frustrated. My life is difficult and you make it more difficult by not understanding that I just can’t say anything. So stop, okay?” She’s rolling on her stockings and slipping on her shoes, and then she stands. “I’m going out here to start cleaning up. Is that okay, sir?”

  “Yes. That’s okay.” She doesn’t wait for me to get up, just opens the door and leaves. Well, if ever there was such a thing as the wrong thing to say, I think I found it, but I wish I could make her understand how this makes me feel. I love her. I know she loves me. But I don’t feel like she’s completely mine, not as long as this secret is between us. I’m frightened of not knowing. I’m frightened of the things that would have to happen so I could know.

  No. That’s not accurate. I’m scared shitless. Until she’s ready to tell me, I suppose I’ll just have to wait, but I’m not sure how long I can hold my breath. I suppose I’m about to find out.

  * * *

  It’s incredible how well we get along. We work well together, we play well together. I think I’ve found my soulmate, and unless I’m reading her wrong, she’s found hers. If I’d tried, I couldn’t have dreamed up a better life for myself, and it’s all because of her. Things are breezy.

  And that’s good, because on top of everything else, I’ve got the charity event to work on. I’ve got some ideas, but it’s tough getting them lined up.

  I’ve also got a multi-million-dollar deal imminent, and it’ll be my biggest ever. We’ve been doing everything we can to find that company a location, and it’s finally coming together. If the property we’ve looked at is as right for them as I think it is, it’ll be our first groundbreaking sale on the west coast, and it’ll put Zimmer Locations on the map. I need that here for legitimacy.

  It’s just an average Tuesday afternoon, and Cirilla’s gone to the office supply store. I’m on a phone call when she gets back, and I’m not really paying attention as she drops everything she’s bought onto her desk and walks back out of the office. As soon as I hang up, I call out, “You back?” No reply. “Cirilla?” Still no answer. “Babe, you here?” With no answer to that, I’m starting to get a little concerned.

  So I head out into the living area. Her bag is on the chair by the door, which means she’s here, but I’m not sure where. When I reach her room, I stick my head in the door and find her on the bed, hunched over, writing.

  In her journal.

  There’s the feeling of a lead block dropping in my stomach when I ask quietly, “Hey, babe, whatcha doin’?”

  “Nothing. Be done in a minute. Just making a note to myself,” she mumbles as she writes.

  “Anything I should know about?”

  Her head snaps up and she glares at me. “Can you leave me alone for just a couple of minutes so I can finish this?”

  I throw both hands up in surrender and I’m trying hard not to sound nasty when I toss back, “Yes, ma’am. No problem. I’ll just be out here staring at the wall.” Oh, shit. I know what this means.

  She’s seen somebody following her.

  I take a seat in the living room and turn on the TV. There’s nothing on that’s worth watching, but the noise keeps my thoughts from running away with me, so that’s worth something, and I grab a legal pad from the coffee table and jot down some ideas I’ve been mulling over for the event. Five minutes after I sit down, she wanders out into the living room, sits down beside me, but doesn’t touch me. Another two minutes pass, with me still scribbling, before she says, “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

  I still my pencil and ask, “Want to tell me what you were doing in there?”

  “No.”

  Dropping my pencil and pad to the table, I turn to face her. “Cirilla, I―”

  “Brian, I told you, no. I can’t tell you anything.”

  I desperately want to blurt out, I’ve seen your journal! I know what you’re doing in there! But I don’t. I can’t. If she found out I’d violated her privacy like that, she’d be furious, and she’d have a right to be. I can’t help it. It’s wrong, that’s true, but I’m worried for her safety. That’s the only reason I snooped. “Well, okay. I wish you trusted me enough to tell me what―”

  “This isn’t about trust. This is about safety, and you wouldn’t be safe if you knew.”

  “Am I safe now?” I ask, trying to put things in perspective.

  “No. Not really. But at least you know nothing if you’re questioned. I don’t expect you to understand.”

  “Good. Because I don’t. But that’s fine. I trust you.” Well, shit. That doesn’t make me feel a bit better. I have to find out what she was writing―I need to find out. As for the so-called danger, it doesn’t matter. I can’t protect her if I don’t know what’s going on, and I have to protect her. I’m her Dominant. She’s the love of my life. I can’t let her down, no matter how mad it makes her when she finds out what I’ve done.

  Now to get her out of the apartment, and I can’t think of a way. Anything I could come up with would send her to the street, and if there’s really somebody out there following her, I don’t want that. Then I remember the storage room downstairs. “Hey, I meant to ask … Can you do something for me?”

  “Like?”

  “Go down to the storage room and see if you can find the box with all my books in it from my real estate classes. I need them if I’m going to think about hiring somebody to work with us.”

  “Why would you need the books?”

  “Because I’d like for them to have something to read so they can decide if this is for them. It’s a big blue box. I remember it because everything fit in it perfectly.” And I’m a lying son of a bitch.

  “Can’t you do it?” It’s unlike her to try to get out of doing something. She must be onto me.

  “No. I’m working on this stuff for the charity event.”

  She gives me a huge frown. “Do I have to do it right now?”

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you to do it for a couple of weeks and I keep forgetting. Is there a better time?”

  A long, exasperated sigh comes from her lips and I almost laugh. “I suppose not. Where’s the key?”

  “It’s hanging in there in the office on a Cincinnati Zoo keychain.”

  “We’ve got to get a real key board. You’ve got a mess of different keychains in there and I can’t find a damn thing.” I watch as she heads down the hallway, and in a few seconds she returns, key in hand.

  “Find it okay?”

  “Yeah.” Instead of heading to the door, she heads for her bedroom.

  “Where are you going?”

  Both index fingers point downward. “To put on my shoes. Is that okay?” Her voice is pissy and I kind of don’t blame her.

  “Of course.”

  “Good. Thought I was going to have to go down in my socks for a minute.” She’s gone longer than I think she should be before she comes back and says, “Be back as soon as I find them.”

  “Got your phone?”

  “Why? You got something else you want me to do?” Now I’m pretty sure she’s pissed.

  “Nope. Let me know if you can’t find it.”

  “Okay.” She doesn’t tell me she loves me, kiss my ass, anything, just stomps out, and I know she’s mad. She’s going to be even madder when she finds out those books aren’t in a blue box―they’re in a red tote.

  Five minutes. I give her five mi
nutes before I head into her bedroom. When I pull the nightstand drawer open, I realize she’s onto me. The journal’s not there, but it can’t be far away. Where to look? The top dresser drawers are a no, and so are the drawers in the vanity cabinet. Then I remember … I was a twelve-year-old boy. I got my hands on my dad’s porn magazines occasionally. And I hid them …

  Yep. Between the mattress and the foundation. I flip it open to the last entry. Sure enough, there it is, and a sinking feeling takes up residence in my gut.

  Never before. White man, maybe late forties. Blond hair. Tall, skinny. No facial hair. Suit, shirt, no tie, collar open. Corner by the pastry shop, lurking in the doorway. Turned to look his way a third time and he was gone.

  But she added a line to this one that rips my heart in two.

  I really thought maybe I’d gotten away from them, but now I’m sure I haven’t. Always looking over my shoulder.

  After gently closing the cover, I place the journal back between the mattress and box spring just as it was and sit there for a few seconds, thinking about the terror she must feel every time she thinks someone’s watching her or following her. I’m dragged out of my reverie by the sound of my phone ringing in the living room, so I jump up and run back in there to see her number on the screen. “Yeah, babe?”

  “You sure they were in a blue box? Because I can’t find a blue box down here.”

  “Um … Wait. I think I put them in a red tote. Do you see a―”

  “Yes. It’s right here. But it’s too heavy. I can’t pick it up. Can you―”

  “Be right there.” I end the call, then slip on the deck shoes I keep by the front door and head for the storage room. I don’t know where the hell I’m going to put those books when I bring them up here, but I can’t leave them down there now.

  But at least now I know it hasn’t ended. I need to know what’s going on, but I already know I won’t get any help from her on that score. She has no intention of telling me anything. I’ll have to find out on my own.