“Yes but he doesn’t know that.” Lucretia flashed a look. “And you mustn’t say a word. I prefer my villainess role, besides I wouldn’t want to confuse the boy.”
“He’s not a boy, Lucretia.”
She raised a brow. “You seem awfully concerned with his well-being.”
“I’m not. It’s you I’m thinking of.”
“Liar, liar…”
Serenity cringed now, hoping Lucretia wouldn’t finish the old saying about pants being on fire. Because at the moment hers were and she was still weighing in her mind Ross’ words. His challenge really.
He wanted her to take them off. He intended to call her back after that and have her masturbate for him. As if he would know if her panties were on or not. What was he, a mind reader?
And that wasn’t all. He also wanted her tonight. In the black dress so he could take her back to the club.
There was no way she would go back to that place. It was far too upsetting. Far too…arousing.
“You have feelings for my son,” said Lucretia. “You don’t have to be ashamed.”
“Why does everyone keep insisting on that?” Serenity fumed. “Doesn’t anyone give me credit for knowing my own heart?”
“Honestly?”
Serenity sighed.
So it was true she didn’t deal well with emotions. Every time it got serious with a guy she tended to freak. In her case she hadn’t grown up with a single alcoholic parent, but she had faced a pretty overbearing father who’d managed to run the lives of everyone under his roof….until his untimely death from a heart attack when Serenity was sixteen.
After that she’d never really been able to bond with any boys or men. They never seemed good enough. Either they showed too little interest and were irresponsible or they were controlling.
Ross was a little of both. He wanted her body under his control. But he didn’t seem to have a clue how to carry on a normal, committed relationship. Mysterious clubs and phone calls. Spanking a girl on a first date. If you could call it a date.
“If it is any consolation,” said Lucretia. “He has them for you as well.”
“Oh?” Serenity told herself just how much she didn’t care.
“We see each other now,” Lucretia elaborated. “We have coffee even.”
“And he’s talked…about me?”
“It’s what he doesn’t say. He gets sullen when I mention your name, like he doesn’t want me involved.”
Serenity couldn’t blame the man for that. Having Lucretia in the middle of one’s affairs was like, well…having Lucretia in the middle of one’s affairs.
It defied comparison quite simply. Except maybe where Selia was concerned and TJ.
The sound of her own phone jolted her now. It was not a familiar number. She answered with trepidation.
“Have you done what we talked about?”
“I’m sorry that’s impossible,” she replied, masquerading with her best professional voice.
“Wrong answer,” Ross replied.
“We’ll have to talk later.”
“You’re not alone?”
“I’m with…someone,” Serenity said, trying not to blush.
Lucretia beamed from across the table. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
Serenity shook her head no.
Lucretia chuckled, rising to her feet. “That’s my cue,” she said, leaving a ridiculously large bill to cover both their lunches. “Do give Ross my regards.”
Serenity’s eyes widened. Lucretia couldn’t leave her. Not now.
“You’re with my mother,” Ross said. “I can hear her voice.”
“She’s just leaving.” Great, Serenity. Did you have to tell him that?
“Excellent, so you’re all mine.”
“No, I have to go too.”
“You have time. Make it so.”
Serenity sighed. How much longer could this go on?
“Order wine if you’re not already drinking it,” said Ross.
She was in fact drinking tea. She flagged down the waiter for a glass of Chablis.
“This is to calm my nerves,” she said. “It has nothing to do with you.”
“The wine is to lower your inhibitions,” he countered.
“My inhibitions are fine where they are.”
“Tell me what it’s like, talking to me now,” he said, ignoring her point.
“Annoying?” she ventured.
“That’s a good start, Serenity. But now I want you to react when I tell you what’s going to happen in the very near future. You will go to the restroom. You will find a stall and there you will take off your panties. Then you will begin to touch yourself.”
“In your dreams,” she said, though she dared not ask his dreams right now, how deep they might run and just what they might involve. Because men like Ross Lassiter had a way of making things come true.
“In my dreams I am with you,” he said now as if reading her mind. “It’s my fingers in your pussy. It’s my cock that slams into you, right there in the bathroom.”
Her breathing quickened. “You’re a pervert.”
“What does that make you? I’ll wager my brand-new roadster you’re hot for me right now.”
“You’ll never know.”
“I want you to touch your nipple,” he said now, his voice as gentle as it was commanding. “I want you to do it without thinking.”
She swallowed hard. What was making her need to obey? He had no real power over her and yet she felt like a moth to flame.”
“Now, darling,” he told her, the sound of his voice so sweet and seductive she felt herself moving as in a dream.
The waiter had just turned his back. Thank god no one saw as she let her finger go, barely grazing as she touched herself, the nub hard and ripe beneath the silk of her jacket.
“Did you do it?”
“Yes,” she said huskily.
“Good girl.”
She groaned softly.
“Tonight I am going to whip you,” he said.
She pressed her thighs together.
“In front of everyone.”
Serenity downed the glass of Chablis.
“Order another,” he told her as if he were there watching.
The second glass went down twice as smooth.
“Is your sweet little pussy wet?” he wanted to know. “Is it wet for me, the way it was last night?”
“Yes,” she replied, the images flashing through her mind, the sensations reawakened. How could he do this to her without even being here?
“Yes Sir,” he corrected.
She sucked in her lower lip at the implications. Not to mention the possibility of getting caught. Would anyone overhear? The thought mortified her. Then again, it excited her too.
“Yes Sir.”
“You may now ask permission to go to the restroom.”
“May I go to the restroom?” she asked weakly.
“For what purpose?”
Her eyes slid shut, drooping with desire. “To…play with myself, Sir.”
“You’ll take the phone with you.”
Of course she would. Was there any other way?
Serenity walked as if in a trance. Every eye seemed to follow. Every mind seemed to read hers. Could they sense the desire? The way her hips moved, the way her lips moistened with each movement of her tongue across them.
There were two women at the sink in the bathroom. They were fixing their makeup, oblivious. Serenity ducked into the nearest stall.
“Are you there?” Ross wanted to know.
She told him yes.
Sir…
“Good girl, now I want the panties off.”
Serenity froze. Did she have the guts to go through with it? Still standing, she flipped up her skirt. Her thumbs tucked under the waistband of her silk underpants. Gently she tugged them down, the cool conditioned air blowing across her freshly bared hips.
She could smell the scent of her own sex. The smell of arousal. And submission�
�
The panties slid down of their own accord.
The bathroom door opened, the women were leaving.
She heaved a sigh of relief as she kicked the frilly garment off both feet.
“I did it, Sir,” she told him.
“You bared your pussy.”
“Yes.”
“You know what to do next.”
Serenity leaned against the wall. Her hand moved quickly, greedily into place. Oh god, she was ready. Her clit swollen, her tunnel slick and hot and clenched against her inserted fingers.
“Come for me, darling.”
She liked it when he called her darling. Especially when he was asking her to do something perverted.
The bathroom door opened again. Serenity stopped in mid-stroke.
Ross sensed the change in her breathing. “Keep going,” he said.
“Someone’s here,” she said fiercely.
“That’s not my concern.”
Serenity whimpered. Sitting down to appear less obvious, scooping up her panties to put in her purse, she got back to work.
Two more strokes and she was there. Shuddering on the edge.
“Come for me,” he urged. “Come for your Master.”
His use of the word, the implications for his power over her was all she needed to reach climax.
One hand in her pussy, clamped between her thighs, the other clutching the phone, she tried to hold it back, the inevitable meltdown. Against her own will, by the command of another…a man. And yet here she was going along with it willingly.
The first wave was unlike anything she’d ever known. It was by her own hand but she felt as if another was doing it to her. Slumping down on the seat, she pushed her feet against the door of the stall, no longer caring who heard.
“Oh…god…” she moaned.
“Yes, my slave,” he coaxed. “That’s it.”
She cried out the second and third orgasms until finally she settled, a wrecked mess, her head down in her lap. Slowly, with building energy she heard the sound of hands clapping.
The other woman.
Serenity turned beet red, scrambling to pull herself together and make a hasty retreat.
“You have an audience,” Ross mused.
“It’s bloody well not funny,” she hissed.
“Actually, it’s hysterical.”
“Bastard,” she said, disconnecting the line.
He tried to call her back, she ignored him. Served him right. Let him sweat for a change.
* * * * *
Ross kept on calling the rest of the afternoon. She put him out of his misery shortly before five.
“Every missed call is one stroke,” he said by way of introduction.
“Excuse me?”
“I will whip you for every time you didn’t pick up one of my calls.”
She did a rough count in her head. “That’s ridiculous.” It had to be pushing double digits.
“The whip isn’t designed for pain. It’s for stinging purposes, not to mention the emotional effects.”
Slaves were whipped, prisoners and captives were whipped. That’s what he meant. He intended to put her in her place.
“Why don’t we whip you for every time you pissed me off,” she countered.
“That would be a lot of times,” he agreed.
“So you’ll let me do it.”
“I’ll tell you what,” he mused. “If you wear the black dress and come along to the club with me then yes, I will give you the whip to use as you please.”
“No catches?”
“Just one.”
“Figures.”
“I get to kiss you first.”
She laughed. “Boy, are you overconfident. You think one kiss will change my mind?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. Do you believe in your abilities or not?”
“I do. I will take your challenge.”
“Excellent. I will pick you up at nine.”
She thought a moment. “One more thing.”
“Yes?”
“When I whip you, I want you naked.”
“As you wish.”
She tingled from head to toe. “And you’ll call me Mistress.”
He laughed. “Nine o’clock. And don’t be late.”
“That works both ways.”
She hung up. She’d actually gotten the last word!
For once.
* * * * *
The black dress fit her like a second skin. He hadn’t just known her size, he’d gotten right straight down to her soul and found the perfect thing for her to wear.
Ross strikes again. He’d be smug about it naturally. Maybe not smug but self-confident.
Of course he knew her body. He’d claimed authority over it. Made his statement out loud that she would belong to him.
As a slave in bed. And anywhere else two people could manage intimacy. Even if one was far away over the phone.
Ever since this afternoon she had been able to think of nothing but his domination of her in the restroom at the restaurant. She had never done such a thing in her life, much less at the behest of another. And she could still feel it between her thighs. The way his voice had moved her, the way she had exploded for him into a million pieces.
He kissed her hand at the door.
Tricky bastard. Saving the real kiss for the club.
“I like you with your hair up,” he approved.
“I will make sure not to do it again.”
He winked. “I told you there would be a next time…and a next time after that.”
“It’s not just my hair up you won’t see,” she replied, feigning casualness. “It’s all of me.”
He licked his perfect lips. “You’re adorable, do you know that?”
“So you’ve told me.”
“We should go,” he said. “We don’t want to be late.”
“Heaven forbid. Not with your humiliation awaiting.”
Ross grinned. “You’re pretty confident.”
“I have felt your kisses, and they aren’t all that.”
“You really know how to hurt a guy, don’t you?”
She rolled her eyes.
He put out his arm for her. Reluctantly she took it.
And off they went.
Neither of them spoke in the car. Her heart was racing and though she didn’t admit it, she was scared. Ross did have a way of kissing. And there was no telling how she would react under pressure. And he was so damn sure about the thing. He wouldn’t agree to a bet like this if he didn’t plan to win.
“If you want to call it a draw,” she said as he helped her from the car. “That’s okay with me.”
He squeezed her hand. “Are you getting cold feet?”
“Not at all. I just thought—”
“You thought I would back down from your punishment.”
“No.” His tone made her cross. As usual he was walking the line with her, half gentlemen, half bastard. “I was going to spare you embarrassment, that’s all.”
“Very thoughtful.”
“Screw you,” she replied, giving the answer his sarcasm deserved.
There was a different man at the door tonight. He was taller and more brooding, and significantly less muscular. He looked like a macabre librarian with his bushy gray hair. Only the black leather kept him kinky.
The two men greeted each other formally.
“There are some guests tonight,” said the doorman, ushering them in. “Perhaps you would like to sit with them?”
“Of course,” said Ross without asking her.
Fuming, she followed them to the waiting table.
A gentleman in a tuxedo sat with a woman in a red dress, well endowed. The dress was sparkly and low cut, enough to reveal she wore no bra.
“I’m Cedric Haynes,” said the man.
“Ross Lassiter. Welcome to the club.”
Feeling her oats, Serenity broke in. “And I’m Queen Cleopatra,” she said. “Not that anyone cares.”
> The woman in red regarded her openmouthed. Cedric raised an eyebrow.
“Serenity isn’t a slave,” Ross explained.
“The nerve of me,” she declared.
Ross held out Serenity’s chair for her, nonplussed by the whole thing. To her annoyance he fell into conversation with Cedric, leaving her to talk to the woman in red.
“I’m Bunny,” she said. “Cedric is my Master.”
No shit, thought Serenity.
“I’m Serenity Mills. Free person.”
Bunny shook her head. “That must be hard on you.”
“I manage.”
“Cedric is good to me. I love being his possession 24/7.”
“Yes, I’m sure he takes excellent care of you.” Just like his car, his golf clubs and his cigar collection.
Bunny fell silent, which made Serenity feel a little guilty. It was hardly the woman’s fault after all. She did her best to engage the woman, which was good because it helped pass the time.
All too soon they were serving dessert. She barely remembered dinner. Duck maybe, or some kind of pheasant. Face it, the only thing she was thinking about was that stage.
“I have to go up there,” she said now to Bunny, not sure what had compelled her to confide in the woman.
Her eyes widened. “With Master Ross?”
“The one and only.”
Serenity swallowed her wine, wishing the bottle hadn’t just been poured to the dregs.
“But you said you were free.”
“I am. That’s why Ross is giving me a chance…to whip him.”
Bunny’s eyes threatened to pop out of her head.
“All I have to do is resist a single kiss.”
Bunny’s laugh was as rich and sonorous as it was unexpected.
“Want to let me in on the joke?”
She shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you’d fall for that.”
“Fall for what?”
Ross was grabbing her hand. Too late to find out now. He pulled her lightly to the stage.
A feeling of dread filled her belly. Smart as she was, Serenity had missed something. Something so obvious even Bunny had figured it out.
The stage was warmer than expected. And brighter. The lights shone all around them, hot and dry.
She felt as if she was in some kind of kinky heaven, bathed in pure whiteness.
He took both her hands now and pulled her to the very center of the open space.
Serenity tried to look out over his shoulder. She couldn’t see a thing.
Stealing Serenity Page 8
