Stepping inside my bedroom, I unzipped the black garment bag on my bed and removed the long white silk robe. The material was not as sheer as I’d thought, saving me at least some embarrassment when I walked into the dark green parlor. As visions filled my head of men and women watching while Garrett and I consummated our union, the robe fell from my hands. What in the hell had I been thinking? I couldn’t do this.
I began to hyperventilate and dropped to my knees. I crawled to my desk outside of my bedroom door and grabbed my cell phone. I was in the process of calling Garrett and telling him the entire ordeal was off, when that little voice in the back of my head made itself heard.
You do that, and he’s done with you.
My stomach cramped and I covered my mouth, thinking I was going to vomit. The cramp soon passed and I sat on my living room floor feeling thoroughly desolated. The enormity of what I was about to do had finally hit me. Like a bride on the eve of her wedding, fear overwhelmed me. Then again, a bride and groom didn’t have to consummate their union in front of the wedding guests. I did. Was that what was really bothering me, or was it the idea of finally being his? I was not sure what was worse: knowing I would be humiliated in public or subjected to his whims in private. What did I really know about this man? Instantly, I heard his delectable voice in my ear from the previous day, describing in detail what he would do to me, and I relaxed.
Wiping my hand over my face, I sighed out loud. “Shit, this is worse than I thought.”
Standing from the floor, I headed to the kitchen and retrieved the bottle of scotch from beneath the sink. Wincing as the burn of alcohol went down my throat, my jittery nerves abated. After a few more stiff swallows, I was better. Not calm, just better. Carrying the bottle back to my desk, I wanted to keep my liquid encouragement within reach. I hoped I had enough left in the bottle to get me to tomorrow night.
Day 16
I was standing in my bathroom staring at the white robe hanging on my body and fighting the urge to run screaming out my front door. In my hand was the almost empty bottle of scotch that I had been steadily sipping throughout the evening. I was not drunk, but I was getting there. I wished that I had kept a ready supply of pain medication in my apartment. Mixed with the alcohol, the pills would have made the coming event tolerable.
I had left my hair down—was there a right way to put it?—and had slipped on my tennis shoes, figuring no one would be interested in my feet. With the alcohol in my system, good shoes with rubber soles would be required, in case I needed to make a fast getaway. I had found the courage to put on makeup—nothing more than some blush and lipstick—and as I stared at my reflection, I contemplated why I was doing this. Was it for my book, for Garrett, or for me?
“You can do this, Lexie,” I encouraged, psyching myself up. “Get it over with, and then you can have that man you’ve been hot for since the day you first laid eyes on him. Take a chance, do something wild for once, before you are too old to give a damn.” I took another sip from the bottle, draining it. “Who gives a shit if anybody sees my bare ass? At least….” I put the bottle on my vanity. “Fuck it.”
Marching into my living room, I collected my purse and glanced over at the clock on my microwave. It was exactly eight.
The buzzer from the speaker rang throughout my apartment. I closed my eyes, saying a silent prayer to whatever patron saint of bondage might happen to be listening above. Did they even have a patron saint of bondage? I was so out of practice being a Catholic. I just hoped the mechanics of Heaven worked like a library; a place where you could pay a late fee and be allowed back into the fold.
Heading to the door, I squared my shoulders and bolstered my courage. It wouldn’t be that bad. I had been through worse humiliation married to Sid. I was reminded of the two times I had gone down to central lockup to bail his ass out for fighting in a bar. Both times, I had been treated like the criminal for marrying such a man. I had thought my shame complete, until now.
“Just keep thinking of Garrett,” I muttered, opening the door. “He will get me through this.”
At the entrance to the house, I was greeted by the gray-haired man I had met the previous day, in the same black suit and tie.
“Are you ready, Ms. Palmer?” he asked in his squeaky voice.
“I’m ready,” I proclaimed, and stepped on the porch.
Scrambling ahead of me, the driver then paused beside the black gate at the end of the walkway and motioned to a black Lincoln Town Car waiting at the curb. He held the back passenger door open, gave me a warm smile as I slid onto the black leather seat, and shut the door. From the moment we left my home until we pulled in front of Mabel Bergeron’s wrought iron-encrusted mansion, my driver said not a word, making me curious as to what the man was thinking. I itched to ask him how many women he had delivered to Mabel’s, dressed in the same white robe, but then thought better of it. I might be more stunned than comforted by his answer.
When I climbed from the rear of the car, he bowed slightly to me and said, “Have a pleasant evening, Ms. Palmer.”
I knew then that he had no clue what was about to take place. I didn’t say anything, and walked up to the gate at the edge of the property. Ahead, the oak door and huge black cast-iron lanterns taunted me, as if to say, “Enter at your own risk.”
When I climbed the steps to the wide front porch, I had to pick up my robe to make sure I didn’t trip on it. The hint of a cool breeze blew by me, making me shiver. I wished I could have at least put on a T-shirt or something underneath the robe, to keep me from feeling so naked. After I pressed the brass doorbell, the thick oak door opened.
Much to my surprise, it wasn’t Mabel’s maid answering her door. It was Mabel. Covered with a red satin dress that amplified her round figure and a few red feathers protruding from her bright red hair, she resembled a dyed Easter chicken on steroids.
“There’s the woman of the hour,” her annoying voice boomed. “You’re right on time.”
“Mrs. Bergeron,” I said, and then covered my mouth. I had forgotten Garrett’s rules about speaking.
“It’s all right, honey.” Mabel waved me into her yellow-wallpapered foyer. “You can speak freely with me. Your Dom hasn’t arrived, yet.”
After stepping under the harsh lights of her two-tiered brass chandelier, I felt self-conscious about my skimpy robe and wrapped my arms around me. Remembering my role, I lowered my eyes to the oak hardwood floors.
“Thank you,” I mumbled.
Mabel closed the heavy door and came up to me. “You’re not like the others I get in here. I could see it that first night. I could also see how swayed he was by you. He didn’t want to take you in front of the other men. He respected you.” She gazed up and down my figure, adding to my apprehension. “You’ve got yourself a real find, do you know that?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand what you mean.” My eyes darted about the foyer as my insides twisted tighter.
“Garrett Hughes. Not many get to serve under an elite. I envy you for what you are about to experience.”
I stared into her cunning green eyes. “Are you saying that Garrett…I mean my master, is—?”
“An elite master, yes,” she cut in. “Why do you think he’s with my club? I got word from some other clubs in Dallas that he was in New Orleans, and I sent my son to invite him to join us. It’s quite a feather in my cap to have him.” She ran her hands over the feathers in her hair. “Excuse the pun.” Her raucous chuckle echoed about the foyer.
I recalled the things Garrett had told me about elite masters and how skilled they were reputed to be in the art of domination.
“He never said anything to me about being an elite master.”
Mabel’s slim lips spread into a concerned frown. “Why should he tell you anything? I’ve heard from his former sub that Garrett is a skilled manipulator.” She flourished her plump white hand down my white robe. “Look at what you’re doing for him. He planned this, down to the last detail. Probably why h
e insisted on the ceremony taking place tonight.”
I gaped at her in astonishment. “He insisted on this ceremony?”
“Yes, I wanted to wait to collar you. I thought he’d need more time. Happily, he proved me wrong.” Mabel wiggled her finger at me. “I knew you were a Dom the moment I saw you. You have the eyes. He knew it, too. So he set out to tame you, to switch you from Dom to sub. It’s the ultimate achievement for any Dom, and he wanted to share his success with our group.”
“He said…you were making him do this.”
She shook her head. “First rule of bondage, Alexandra; everything is consensual. I don’t force anyone to be collared. Garrett knows that.” She turned toward the short hall. “Come, I will show you to the waiting area.”
As we made our way past the family photos hanging in the hallway, the sting of doubt began to circle my heart. Had he manipulated me to get me here tonight? Was I just a trophy to prove that he was truly an elite master?
Before the last door that led to her parlor, Mabel halted and reached for the crystal doorknob on her left. “You wait in here until Garrett comes to get you.” She pushed the door open. “There’s champagne already open on the table for you. I suggest you drink before the festivities begin.”
I stepped inside the room…closet really. It was only large enough to accommodate a small wooden table and two high-backed red leather chairs. The walls were painted the same shade of dark green as the parlor, and from the center of the high ceiling hung a stained glass chandelier done in alternating shades of light green, yellow, and white.
“Everyone should be here in about fifteen minutes,” Mabel spoke out from the doorway.
I spun around to her. “What if I would have said no to all of this? What would you have done to me?”
“To you, nothing; to Garrett….” Mabel sighed, tipping her head to the side. “He would have been shamed for not bringing you to task. Being shamed is tantamount to being shunned in his eyes. I’m sure he would have pursued you until he broke you. That’s what elite master’s do.” With that, she quietly shut the door.
I immediately went to the open bottle of champagne and picked up one of the two flutes sitting on the table next to it. Pouring out the champagne, my hand trembled, almost spilling the bubbly liquid all over the table. My flute was not even half-full when I put the bottle down and chugged the contents of my glass. Deciding not to bother with the effort of refilling my flute, I lifted the bottle to my lips and drank deeply.
“What are you doing?” Garrett demanded, walking in the door.
His tailored tuxedo clung to his strong body, and his hair had been slicked back, adding to the chill in his eyes. Despite my anger and confusion about Mabel’s words, my body still melted when I saw him.
He came up to me and pulled the bottle out of my hand. “Are your trying to get drunk?”
I stretched for the bottle. “Drunk? No, I want the bottle so I can crack you over the head with it, you lying, manipulative son of a bitch!”
He held the bottle high in the air so I could not reach it. “What is wrong with you?”
“Me?” I pulled my arm back and punched him hard in the gut.
He bent over, and I took the bottle away.
He coughed once. “Lexie, what is the matter?”
I held up the bottle, ready to clobber him. “Besides the obvious, that I’m standing in a gown, buck naked underneath, waiting for you to take me in a room full of depraved psychopaths and rape me?”
He stood up, fully recovered from my blow—those damned ripped abs—and clasped my arms. “Talk to me. Tell me what is going on.”
“Mabel told me you set this up. You did all that stuff to me, the punishing and the pleasure, because you saw me as some kind of prize. Colin wasn’t the one who wanted to switch me…you were.”
“All right, stop this.” He wrenched the bottle out of my hand and put it on the table. “Yes, I went to Mabel and requested to collar you. I had to do it before Colin went to her. I knew if I made the first move, he would have to bow to my wishes.”
“You lied to me. She said nothing would have happened if you didn’t collar me. Nothing would have happened to either one of us.”
“And you believed her?” He pointed to the door. “Lexie, you’ve seen the people waiting for us in that room. Do you believe they would just let us walk away? You’re from this goddamned city…do I have to remind you how corrupt it is? How favors win contracts and how connections have to be nurtured with a lot of money and political pull?”
He was right. Backroom deals and political intrigue were ingrained into the history of my hometown. Maybe it was our sordid past, or maybe it was something in the water. Whatever made New Orleans rife for illegal dealings, it was the way things were.
I glared at him and remembered Mabel’s disclosure. “When were you planning on telling me that you were an elite master?”
He rubbed his hand across his chin. “After…I didn’t think you needed to know before.”
“Why not? I think I deserved to know, Garrett.”
“Master,” he corrected.
I waved him off and headed toward the door. “I’m done with you and your bullshit games.”
Before I could reach the door, he came up behind me and flung his arms around me, pinning me to him. “This is not a game, Lexie, not to me.” His lips tickled my ear. I could feel his hot breath against my skin. “You think I’ve been training you, molding you on a whim?” His hips ground into my backside. “I’ve been preparing you for me. I want you. But in order to have you, to keep you safe from everyone else in this club, you have to commit to me. I’m doing this to protect you.”
I squirmed in his arms. “I don’t need your protection, Garrett.”
“Yes, you do, Lexie. How long do you think it will be before Colin comes after you, or one of the other men? They won’t bother to try to get your consent. You know the kind of men these are. They don’t give a damn about women, and they certainly won’t give a damn about you.”
He loosened his grip on me, and I faced him. “So for you to protect me, I have to be humiliated in that room? Have you…?” I tried to control the panic seizing me. What loomed before me was all too real. I lowered my head to his chest. “Christ, I can’t do this. I’m not like those women, Garrett.”
“I will be right there. It will be over quickly, I promise. I will not hurt you.”
I raised my head to him. “You already have.”
The torment that radiated from his dark eyes spread throughout his body. His arms fell from my sides, as if zapped of their immense strength. He took a step back from me and ran his hand over his slicked back hair.
A loud rap on the door shattered the silence in the tiny room.
“You’re on,” a man’s voice called.
Garrett went to the door, avoiding my terrified face. After he opened the door, Colin, dressed in his tuxedo, grinned at him.
“They’re waiting.” Colin held out a black leather collar to Garrett. “You’ll need this.”
“We’re coming,” Garrett barked, and then turned back to me. He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door.
I yanked my hand away, and he glowered at me. He faced Colin and muttered, “Give me a moment.” Then, he slammed the door.
He was instantly on me, pressing his hands into the sides of my head. “You have to do this, Lexie. You have to go out there with me. If you don’t they will rip us both to pieces, and I won’t be able to protect you. Do you understand?”
I gasped and wanted to scream. I bit my lower lip, holding back my tears. I had never felt so low. I had struggled for years to be an independent, strong woman. In the matter of a few minutes, it was all going to be taken away from me. How in the hell could I fight back? I was trapped.
Taking my hand, Garrett went to the door. When he opened it, Colin was waiting patiently in the hallway.
Colin smirked at me. “Looking forward to the show.”
“Shut up, C
olin.” Garrett ripped the black collar from his hand and pushed him out of the way. “From now on, keep your eyes off her or I will tear them from their sockets.”
Colin was shocked by Garrett’s outburst. Instead of challenging him, Colin backed down and stepped to the side. Garrett pulled me into the hall and across to the door that led to the parlor.
Before opening the door, he looked back at me. “Walk three paces behind me, and keep your eyes on my back. Don’t look at anyone but me.”
My lower lip trembling, I nodded my head.
He opened the door, and the bright lights from the room sifted into the hallway. Mabel’s bone-chilling voice was urging the crowd to their seats, ready for the ceremony to begin.
Garrett stood with his back to me. When I saw the collar clenched in his right hand, I truly thought I was either going to throw up or pass out…I wasn’t sure which one.
As the din in the room grew quiet, Garrett entered the dark green parlor. Angling my head to see around his wide shoulders, I viewed the chairs arranged in a circle and the stage situated in the middle of the room. Sitting in the chairs were women attired in beautiful long gowns of various styles and colors, with men in tuxedos standing behind them. Observing the blues, greens, reds, and yellows of the different ball gowns made my head spin. While nearing the short stage, the champagne I had quickly downed a few moments before started churning in my stomach. By the time Garrett came to the edge of the stage, I was overcome by a violent shaking. I had never been so terrified in my life.
Garrett stopped right before the stage and held out his hand to me. When my quaking hand took his, his gaze locked with mine. Slowly, he climbed onto the stage and helped me up, supporting my very unsteady body by slipping his arm about my waist. As we arrived before the red velvet chaise, I stared at the offensive piece of furniture, wondering how many women had been spread across it for the sake of the lurid desires of the club.
Taming Me Page 20
