by Jan Graham
“Yes, it’s healing well, thank you for asking.” She had to get Rhia out of the office and think of an alternative solution. “So, if you can’t change your plans for Friday, then I’ll just need to change mine. I’ll get back to you with the details, dear.”
Rhia nodded politely and stood to leave. “I’m free between three thirty and six on Friday, if you’d like to meet after work for coffee perhaps. That might be a nice way to get to know each other.”
Harper thought carefully before she answered. That might just work, but she’d need to consult with Kevin first. “That may work for me,” she answered cautiously. “I’ll get back to you with a definite answer soon.”
As soon as Rhia closed the door behind her, Harper picked up the phone then paused. Kevin was tied up all day. How inconvenient. She’d just have to work out the change in plan herself.
* * * *
Talk about weird. Harper Roderick was without doubt the most complex person Rhia had ever met. She’d been invited to her house, just like that, let’s be friends and pretend I’m not a psychopathic nutcase. Rhia’s intuition went onto high alert the moment Harper had extended the invitation. There was no way she would go to the house of someone she didn’t trust, or like. She hoped asking the question about the burn hadn’t been a mistake. Harper hadn’t reacted one way or the other at the mention of it. Rhia suspected she might have given her some indication of whether it really was an injury from a kitchen fire, but there wasn’t even a glimmer of emotion. No fear, no guilt, no suspicion directed toward her for asking such a personal question. She hadn’t even wanted to know how Rhia had heard about the incident. The woman was ice-cold with a fake smile on her face. When most people smiled, warmth reflected in their eyes. With Harper, there was nothing.
She needed to talk to Steve. He’d offered to be the guy to run things past in relation to the school principal when they first met. Rhia knew she’d waited too long to voice her added concerns about the strange happenings with Ms. Roderick. The reason she’d not said anything further about the situation she found herself in was any information she had was speculation. Supposition based on a gut feeling did not help the police catch criminals. Facts and hard evidence sometimes didn’t guarantee a conviction. Kevin Johns was a prime example of that. All Rhia’s information was gossip, speculation, hearsay and opinion. Where were the facts? The woman had a burn on her shoulder, Rhia didn’t like her, and Harper Roderick was a bitch. Maybe the last point wasn’t a fact. In any case, being a bitch wasn’t a crime. It was just an annoying personality trait.
Patrick was waiting in her office when she arrived back. Rhia wished she could ease his mind, assure him everything would be all right and that his father would end up behind bars eventually. She couldn’t say the words because she didn’t know if it was true. Sometimes the justice system didn’t work in favor of the innocent victims of crime. For a young man, Patrick had always looked old to her. Once she found out the details of his life, it made sense. He’d lived with stress and worry since he was a child, not to mention the feelings of fear and frustration at being helpless that he’d mentioned during their counseling sessions. Those factors alone aged a person.
“Hey, Ms. McCabe, how’s your day?” The greeting was warm and friendly, but the smile on his face didn’t reach his eyes. The difference between him and Harper was, the smile might not show in his eyes, but other emotions did. Sorrow was the main one. Rhia hoped one day that would change.
“Hi. My day’s been odd. How about yours?” She was pleased to hear that Patrick’s day had been productive, but he didn’t elaborate.
“I need to tell you that I’ve skipped school today but I wanted to see you to let you know everything was okay with me. I didn’t want you to worry,” Patrick confessed.
“Why did you skip school Patrick?” Rhia assumed he’d been overwhelmed by everything that was going on in his life and may have just needed time alone.
“I had stuff to do, things to organize. Please don’t tell Harper I didn’t come in, I don’t want her to know.”
“Why would it matter if Ms. Roderick knew, Patrick? Not that I plan to tell her, you know these sessions are confidential.”
“It doesn’t, I just would prefer her not to know.” Patrick fidgeted nervously and from that point on discussion of anything to do with the principal ceased.
Rhia found it odd that within a time period of a few days she’d been asked twice not to mention something to Harper. It fuelled her instincts that the principal wasn’t what she pretended to be. She made others nervous also, and in Patrick’s case she was sure it was more than a nervous reaction. Patrick was scared of Harper, and despite her best efforts in the time she’d known him, he had never revealed why.
That was the frustrating part about counseling. If the person you were trying to help wasn’t forthcoming with information, there wasn’t much a counselor could do. Rhia remained hopeful that as the young man got to know her and trust her, that would change. She’d find out the truth about Harper Roderick. All would be revealed in the fullness of time, and if Patrick’s fear was based on inappropriate conduct on Harper’s behalf, Rhia would ensure it was reported.
By the time the session ended, she realized Patrick had led the conversation. He’d asked questions about her, some of them personal, others more general. He was interested in Steve, what he was like, how long had she known him. Rhia hoped it was a breakthrough in them getting to know each other, building trust. She wasn’t sure about his interest in Steve, but then young men who’d been raised in violent homes sometimes looked for male role models, especially men who were different from the fathers they’d grown up with.
Before Patrick left the office, he’d given her his opinion of Steve. He believed Steve to be an honorable man, someone a person could rely on and trust if they needed help. Rhia assured him the assumption was correct. For her, Steve was also a man she could love for the rest of her life. She just had to decide when the right time to announce that would be.
“I’m not sure you should be working so hard that you don’t hear when a man walks into your office unannounced.”
She looked up from her file to see Steve sitting across from her. “It’s the darn carpet in this admin section. It’s so thick it deadens all sound.”
“Then keep the door closed so at least you’ll hear that open if anyone decides to come in.”
Rhia smiled at him. He had such a protective streak for people he cared about. Steve definitely cared for her, but she just wasn’t sure if what he felt could be described as love. Hopefully one day it would.
It took Rhia every ounce of self-control she could muster to stay behind her desk as they chatted. She was tempted to close the door, sit on his lap and see what would happen. If nothing else, he’d punish her when they got home for being such a wicked girl and tempting him in public. Or maybe not. She hadn’t been punished for anything or even spanked in three days. Well, she didn’t really count the playful taps on the bottom he gave her when she was bending over to get something out of the fridge or a cupboard. That was just teasing her. And did it tease. Her butt cheeks were definitely attached to her clit in some strange and physiologically bizarre way. A playful smack achieved the same response as a tender caress or one of those intense stares of his.
Face it, Rhia, everything he does makes you wet. He’s talking about his schedule for the next couple of days and your pants are damp. You’re turning into a naughty little sexpot where Steve is concerned.
She was. He could ask her to do or try anything and she’d gladly submit to the act. He hadn’t asked her to do anything that hadn’t resulted in a pleasurable end.
“Are you still with me?”
She nodded, wondering what it was he’d just said.
“So what did I just say?”
“Umm, your schedule…something…” Heat flooded her face. His eyes narrowed. He stood and placed his hands on the edge of the desk, leaning in toward her.
“I said I
need to leave. I’ll be back tomorrow night and I intend to ravage you senseless for the whole weekend. Don’t make any plans, because I won’t tolerate interruptions. Now, are you ready for your final instructions?” Oh my Lord he had that sexy do-as-I-say voice going on. Rhia nodded as he closed the distance between them across the desk. As he kissed her open lips, the yes Sir she’d intended to say died in her throat through lack of breath. A deep groan sounded in his throat when he broke the connection.
“I’ll be home at six o’clock tomorrow night. I want you sitting on my front steps waiting for me. Wear that short little black skirt I bought you, the red lace demi-bra, matching suspenders, black lace top stockings, and the highest, sexiest pair of heels you own. Lastly, and make sure you remember this, because I won’t be happy if you get it wrong, sweetheart…absolutely no panties.” He spoke the last words directly against her ear, gave her a quick peck on the cheek and turned to leave. The directions raced through her mind.
“Wait, what about a top? You didn’t tell me what top to wear.” Steve turned back to her from the doorway. His eyes blazed with wicked mischief.
“Mmm, I didn’t, did I? Let me think. I might need a bit more time to decide. I’ll text you the answer when I have one.” He paused and looked thoughtful, although Rhia knew from the playful grin that toyed at the edge of his lips he knew exactly what he was going to say next. “I hope I don’t get preoccupied with work meetings. Imagine if I forgot to send the text. I’d arrive home tomorrow night and find you sitting on my top step wearing only what I’ve told you to wear. Let’s hope Mr. Brooks doesn’t decide to garden again.”
Rhia stared at him in abject horror as he disappeared from view. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Well he could and possibly would. She tried to calm her breathing. The skirt he’d told her to wear barely sat at the base of her bottom. It certainly didn’t reach the top of her stockings, even when she was standing. The bra was a half-cup design, and she wasn’t going to have panties on. Rhia gulped back the moan of arousal that attempted to leave her lips at the thought of it all. Dear Lord, she’d left the convent to begin her new journey in life, never expecting this turn of events. Steve Jax and his kinky ways were going to lead her straight to hell, and she couldn’t help but delight in every step she took.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The idiot at head office who decided it would be an excellent idea to schedule the first session of the annual-planning-and-budgetary-nightmare-festival for three o’clock in the afternoon needed to be shot. Steve had read the interdepartmental email, so he understood the rationale. Most of the superintendents expected to attend were flying in today from around the state, so it was better to get started early. They’d also be staying overnight in the city, so it was a good chance to network and socialize before tomorrow’s full day event. Again, the idiot at head office had decided seven thirty a.m. would be an excellent time to start everyone’s day. After all, who didn’t want to sit down and go over budgets and prospective running costs at crack-of-fucking-dawn o’clock?
He hated meetings. He hated the fucking idiots who scheduled them as well. He also loathed trains, which was why he couldn’t understand his decision to commute to the city, rather than take the bike. Logically he knew why. It stopped him from standing up in one the meetings, announcing this is just crap, and taking off. At least he could travel home with Christian Shore tomorrow afternoon. No peak-hour crush on the train for him tomorrow, just a straight- through chauffer service in Christian’s new Lexus.
As for socializing, he’d only be doing that with one of the other enforced attendees. Christian and he were staying at Zane’s inner city terrace. The evening would be an interesting one. Mercedes was calling around for a chat, Zane had changed his work routine so he’d be home, probably to ensure he’d see Mercedes, and Cal was calling around later in the evening for a drink. It would be fun, but not exactly how he wanted to spend the evening. Steve knew he’d enjoy catching up with everyone, but he’d rather be home with Rhia.
Instead of going over the information he needed for the first meeting, he closed his eyes and pictured her sitting behind the desk. He smiled as he remembered the shocked look on her face when she realized he was going to text her what shirt he wanted her to wear. He knew exactly what he wanted her to put on, but the text could wait until tomorrow. He’d ring her tonight and pretend to have forgotten about the shirt, tell her again he’d think about it. That is, unless she seemed frantic rather than titillated by the possibility of him forgetting. Frantic wasn’t his goal. Salacious anticipation was.
It was going to be harder to tell her reaction over the phone, but this afternoon in her office the racy suggestion definitely sparked her interest. He adjusted himself in the seat, easing some of the pressure in his pants. God, she made him hard. He wandered around half the time like a horny schoolboy. Just the sight of her was enough to have the blood pooling in his cock.
Steve knew Rhia was confused why they hadn’t been back in the dungeon since he’d spanked her on Monday. She’d asked him if she’d done something wrong. He assured her she hadn’t. The problem wasn’t her, it was him. Everything had been fine during their discipline session, perfectly okay as he had pampered her in the spa-bath afterward and taken her to bed. It was after she’d gone to sleep in his arms that the guilt hit.
Sleep evaded him as he wrestled with his conscience. He’d taken another woman on the spanking bench specifically designed for Kathy. The cuffs he’d used were the one’s Kathy always said were the most comfortable. He realized he was being ridiculous about the whole thing, but this had been why he wanted to take things slow with Rhia.
The following day when he’d arrived home from work he’d gone into the newly decked out room. Everything he’d touched had a memory of Kathy attached to it. There was her favorite flogger and the paddle he’d brought her that had naughty kat carved into the handle. The Scottish Tawse reminded him of the time she once snatched it from his hand and struck him with, saying see how you like it, Sir.
He knew the memories shouldn’t matter, but they did. He’d wanted time to sort these feelings out. Instead Zane decided he’d play a little game and had ultimately forced Steve’s hand. Zane knew Steve wouldn’t let the week go by without taking Rhia in hand and starting her training. His friend had that knowing look on his face when he’d announced… Do something or I’ll train her starting Saturday.
Why friends and relatives couldn’t leave well enough alone astounded Steve. Admittedly, he may not have taken Rhia to his bed as quickly if Angel hadn’t decided to play her game with him and the date Rhia had with Cal. It still would have happened though, because he couldn’t have avoided the attraction forever. Likewise when it came to training Rhia as his sub. It was inevitable, but only once he’d assured himself Rhia was ready and so was he.
He’d already determined Rhia’s aptitude for submission and realized she was keen. Still, now they’d begun the journey together, he couldn’t pull out because of guilt over Kathy, so tomorrow night they’d continue Rhia’s training…whether he was ready or not.
If the guilt returned to haunt him, he already had a plan to deal with it. He’d take Rhia to meet his friend Max. Max made the most exquisite pieces of dungeon equipment and furniture. His submissive, Miss Dee, created corsets and other clothing Rhia might be interested in. He’d let Rhia help him choose the new equipment, pick new floggers and even canes if Angel hadn’t scared her off them for life. The playroom would then become their space where they’d make their own memories.
He stared at his briefcase. The other reason he’d caught the train was to enable him to go through the reports he’d prepared for the meeting at three. He preferred to think of Rhia, but a man had to do…and all that shit. Next year’s budget for the area would be based on the information he provided over the next twenty-four hours. He’d just finished reviewing the reports as the train pulled into the station. Now it was a quick ten minute walk up the road to head office. He relished the
opportunity to stretch his legs and get some fresh air before he descended into the pit of mind numbingly boring department politics.
“I don’t understand why they couldn’t just put all that in an email and let us read it before the meeting in the morning.” Christian flicked the auto release lock on the car.
“Because upper management is comprised of a bunch of fat, sadistic pricks, intent on making us all compete by jumping through hoops to get what we want for our area of expertise. They like to torture us.” Steve settled into the passenger seat. “It’s the only fun they get in life.”
The car was nice. Comfortable seats, plush interior, spacious. He might need to invest in a car now that Rhia was in his life. She deserved comfort. Besides, the fear that filled her face the morning he asked if she’d like a lift on the bike still concerned him. She wasn’t going anywhere near his back seat anytime soon. Unless he had a nice machine like this one, then he’d be able to fuck her in the back seat, on the hood, pressed against the boot. Hell, there was probably enough room for her to go down on him while he drove down the freeway.
“Will you stop fiddling with the fucking controls on my dash, I had everything just the way I like it.” Christian hit the reset button on the car’s stereo, changing the music back to the classic rock station they’d been listening to.
“I’m just seeing what features it has.”
“It has everything. The only thing it won’t do is light your cigarette when you’ve finished having sex in the back seat.”
Steve looked at the two child safety seats secured in the back. Yeah, that was something Christian obviously didn’t get to do anymore. Not unless he was fucking a pixie behind Angel’s back. Those things took up a heap of space.
“I don’t smoke anymore, so that won’t bother me.” The window stopped as it reached halfway. Steve fiddled with the control on the door, but the window didn’t budge.
