by Mimi Tulane
Already the comments and observations about her lack of a love life were being tossed out at every family gathering. This one would be no exception. As far as Jocelyn was concerned, there were just some topics that should not be broached in mixed company. Her being a Domme was one of them and her not having a man the other.
Smoothing a hand down her simple black and teal sheath dress, she surveyed her jewelry box. She found another necklace and managed to get it on without breaking it. Finally, she sat down at her vanity to slip on her heels then finish her hair and makeup. She told herself no matter what, she was attending the party for her cousin and best friend to celebrate their engagement. She could suffer through any uncomfortable questions—this time.
At thirty-one, Jocelyn Mackenzie was the owner of the Velvet Fantasy. The Velvet Fantasy was a multi-level, private, role-play fetish club, located within the Laclede’s Landing area of downtown St. Louis. Jocelyn’s club catered to those desiring to delve into the exotic, sensual, and kinky. Her club was known for providing a safe, sane, and consensual atmosphere where consenting adults could indulge their erotic fantasies. It offered several private, themed play rooms that could be booked for one-on-one or group sessions. All sessions were facilitated by her extremely competent and distinguished staff, as well as Jocelyn herself. She was known to her staff and club patrons as The Mistress Lady J, and she made sure to run a very safe but tight ship. Good times, good taste, and no nonsense was the mantra she employed. It was one of the reasons why her club was successful.
The club was also a hot night spot that often hosted A-list events. It boasted a gourmet kitchen run by a local rock star of a chef, two dance floors, three bars, and VIP seating. The Velvet Fantasy was the place to hold bachelor and bachelorette parties. However, for those occasions, Jocelyn offered a tamer version of her services. The Velvet Fantasy had a stellar reputation within the community despite its risqué environment. Her clientele ranged from alternative lifestylers to city officials wanting discreet encounters. Jocelyn was very proud of her staff for helping her to make the club the success it was.
As she applied her mascara, she thought about tonight, namely being around her family. Although her family knew of the club they thought her part in it was strictly as the owner, and her role as a “Domme” there, an act at best—a bit of theatrics that drew in the crowds. Her family often referred to it as “Jocie’s Burlesque Club,” bypassing any mentioning of BDSM. Only Mac and their cousin Rasheed knew differently. Rasheed was her assistant manager and worked there as one of the house Doms. As far as her family believing that her part was just a performance, she was good with that. In fact, she preferred to keep it that way being the private person she was. She only recently confessed to her best friend Imani that she was in fact a practicing Dominatrix.
As she dabbed on her perfume, she made a mental note to get with Imani soon, to finalize the plans for her bachelorette party. Imani had wholeheartedly embraced the lifestyle and thought it would be fun to have her party at Jocelyn’s club. Her guest list included Imani’s younger sister Ebony as well as a few of Ebony’s prissy friends. Jocelyn chuckled to herself. If Imani wanted them to have a fun time, then Jocelyn and her staff would ensure that it happened. Her bestie’s enthusiasm was to be commended. Now if only she herself could get through the party tonight with a semblance of decorum. She was truly dreading the moment when she’d have to suffer “the Fates.” She told herself for Mac and Imani she’d do anything…almost.
* * * *
The night air was still rather warm for September. Jocelyn carried her gift with her as she walked to the awaiting hired car. Her five-inch stilettos were teetering dangerously and the driver hastily walked to meet her and offer his assistance.
“How are you tonight, Carl?” she asked sweetly.
“I’m well, Lady J. May I assist you to the car?” Carl was moonlighting as a driver tonight. He was a submissive that belonged to the owner of the hired car service she preferred to use.
“Yes, thank you.”
The owner, Reese Jackson, was also a VIP member of her club and dear friend. He often brought his “family” there to enjoy theme nights.
She smiled fondly at the handsome young man as he closed her door and tipped his cap before getting behind the wheel of the Cadillac Sedan. As Jocelyn settled inside she sat her gift for the happy couple upon the seat. Carl had a nice soft jazz CD playing and the car was even equipped with a mini bar. She discovered pink tea roses, her favorite flowers, along with an opened bottle of Cristal were waiting inside for her. Reese’s doing. She’d give him an A for effort. Jocelyn poured herself a glass and slowly sipped the crisp, cold champagne, glad for the beverage’s calming effect.
As Carl maneuvered the vehicle smoothly onto the highway, Jocelyn’s thoughts drifted momentarily to Reese. Reese and his family subscribed to a polyamorous lifestyle. To say Reese was filthy rich didn’t quite begin to describe the man’s bank roll. Over the years, he amassed his fortune through several sound business ventures and lucrative investments. Besides the car service he owned a high-end restaurant, a clothing line and even a frozen yogurt chain. His crown jewel, however, was a wholesale fetish supply company called Leather and Silk. Jocelyn had an exclusive account with them. She only used the best equipment at her club. She purchased all of her and her staff’s attire, equipment, and toys from there. The high quality of their merchandise and discreet delivery policies made them the number one go-to supplier for fetish needs.
Reese had his eye on Jocelyn for years but the poly life wasn’t for her. They had dated on occasion and had even been intimate, yet Jocelyn knew if she finally met the one, he’d belong solely to her. Despite her reluctance in pursuing anything deeper with Reese, he, along with his family members, were some of her closest friends. “Will Reese make the party tonight?” she asked Carl as he exited the freeway heading toward her destination for this evening, the Westport Inn.
“Yes, Lady J, but you know how he is. He will work up until the last minute. Janice will have to drag him away from his desk.” Jocelyn smiled and nodded her agreement. Reese’s family included her driver for the night, Carl Simmons, who was in fact a professional model. The other members were Janice Taylor and Tracy Lau, both hairstylists, and Paulo Fabrini, an interior designer. To her knowledge they all shared each other’s bed without envy or jealousy and the family functioned in harmony, sharing their livelihood as well as their love.
Jocelyn preferred to deal with members of the alternative set. With them you didn’t have to do a lot of explaining—unlike with her family. Sighing, she drew a concerned look from Carl, their eyes meeting in the rearview mirror. She gave him a reassuring smile and then turned to stare out of the window, barely registering the passing cityscape.
Before long they arrived at the Westport Inn. Carl helped her from the car then retrieved the gift from inside, handing that to her as well. She gave him an affectionate peck on the cheek. “I’ll call when I’m ready to return, Carl.” She was determined to enjoy the evening celebrating with the happy couple, no matter how many uncomfortable personal questions she would have to skirt. Squaring her shoulders, she headed inside to join Mac, Imani, and the rest of her family.
Chapter 2
Jocelyn was all smiles as she entered the lobby of the Westport Inn. The first person to greet her besides the hostess was her younger cousin, Rasheed. “I’m glad you decided to show up, Jocie.” He was teasing her, of course. Rasheed Mackenzie was an attractive, caramel-skinned man, with green eyes and a cleft chin. Her cousin’s extremely good looks were the talk of the club, making him well sought after when it came to private playdates. He wore his hair in deep, dark waves faded slightly at the temples and nape of his neck. The only reminder that his hair was once shoulder length was the braided tail he refused to cut, despite her objections.
Jocelyn noted his choice of suit only accentuated his well-kept physique. Her cousin could draw attention in anything he wore, from ripped jeans to Hugo B
oss. Judging by the blatant stares from the hostess and female servers—who were giving her the stank eye, mistaking her for his date no doubt—she was inclined to agree he made a fine figure of a young man.
She rolled her eyes at him but kept smiling as he took her arm to walk with her into the private banquet room reserved for their family gathering.
“You know I wouldn’t miss this night no matter how much I detest the Fates’ questions.” She was referring to her Aunts Charlotte and Betty as well as her mother, Ruth. Rasheed chuckled at her term of endearment to describe his and Mac’s mothers, as well as her own.
“They mean well, Jocie, you know that. They just want to see you happy—and with a few babies.” He flinched when she gave his arm a hard pinch and laughed.
Jocelyn smiled warmly as they made their way to the gift table. “You are a hot mess, Rasheed.” She chastised him playfully but was hardly upset with his teasing. Rasheed was the playful Dom of the club as well, mixing his brand of dominance with humor. A showman if ever there was one and a crowd pleaser when he performed before an audience. Yet he preferred to remain a solo act when it came to relationships. They had that in common. Which made them both all the more happy that their cousin Mac had found his true love in Imani.
“Jocie! You’re here!” Hearing her name, she looked up and smiled warmly. Imani was practically glowing as she glided over to where she and Rasheed were standing. Her cousin Mac, no surprise there, was by her side.
“Hey, shug!” She greeted Imani with a kiss to her cheek then arched her brow in Mac’s direction. She insisted on giving him a hard time as her way of making sure he behaved and did right by her best friend. Mac of course took her ribbing in stride, but she needn’t have worried. Their love for each other radiated from them and was evident in the protective arm Mac had in place about Imani’s waist.
“I got a little worried when I didn’t see you. I thought you might have pulled a Houdini!” Imani teased her. If anyone understood Jocelyn’s disdain for family gatherings it was her.
“Shug, wild horses couldn’t keep me away. Congratulations to the both of you.” She kissed Mac on his cheek as well and he squeezed her in a bear hug. The Mackenzie family was not only a family of Dominants, but an extremely close family, one filled with respect and love for each other.
“Don’t look now but Uncle Cyrus is headed to the dance floor.” Rasheed’s warning had them all groaning and Imani looking between the three of them.
Jocelyn explained. “Shug, Uncle Cyrus is the worse dancer on the planet and the clumsiest. I hope the punch bowl isn’t nearby. Last time at Cousin Pearl’s wedding reception he tried to do his James Brown impression and knocked the champagne fountain over!” Watching her friend dissolve into a fit of girlish giggles and her cousin Mac with his arms wrapped about her warmed her heart. Jocelyn was glad she decided to brave the Fates to share this night with them.
They continued to give Imani the “run down” on the family, taking turns to trade anecdotes, especially other incidents stemming from mishaps with Uncle Cyrus.
“Look at him bustin’ a move,” quipped Rasheed as the group watched the elderly man dance, bumping into other dancers, completely oblivious.
“Oh good, Mama is heading over there now!” said Jocelyn, and just in the nick of time, as more food was brought out to the steam tables. Ruth Mackenzie intervened by calling the family and their friends to dinner, announcing the buffet was now being served.
Mac and Imani left them to take their seat at the head table as the honorees. Jocelyn and Rasheed took their seats as well at one of the nearby tables reserved for family.
“You know, Jocie, I’m trying to figure out, how did I miss Imani? She’s been to a dozen family gatherings and I never noticed how gorgeous she was.” Rasheed’s tone was wistful, causing Jocelyn’s brows to quirk at his observation.
“Don’t go there, Cub. Yes, she’s a looker but she belongs to Mac.” She knew she was being overprotective but she couldn’t help it. Imani had been through enough heartache prior to finding love with their cousin. For that matter, Mac had been no stranger to his share of failed relationships, due to his choice to live a Dominant lifestyle. She wanted them both to be happy. As far as Jocelyn was concerned, Imani and Mac deserved a drama-free relationship.
Rasheed laughed, holding up his hands as if to fend her off. “Hey, girl, lighten up! Stevie Wonder could see how much she loves him, lucky-ass mofo.” He flashed that show-stopper smile of his before dragging her toward the buffet line.
“I’m sorry, Cub, you’re right. I get a little crazy at times like this.” She took a deep breath and tried to relax. Rasheed gave her a brotherly nudge and they both chuckled. He understood why she was on edge.
Rasheed grinned bigger the closer they got to the steam table and spoke to Jocelyn in a good-natured voice. “Hey, we’re here to celebrate with Mac and Imani, so let’s get this party started!” Jocelyn nodded. After all, the night was progressing pleasantly. She gave herself a mental shaking. Get a grip and just go with the flow, Joss.
Accepting the warmed dinner plate Rasheed handed to her, Jocelyn perused the choices laid out upon the buffet. Mulling over them she finally helped herself to some of the food. Still unable to shake her earlier misgivings she gave a few furtive glances over her shoulder. She was rewarded by what she saw, reassured that the Fates were too busy introducing Imani to her new family. Poor girl would need note cards to keep up with all the names. A constant parade of family members was stopping by their table to wish them well. She smiled softly at the picture the happy couple made then turned to finish serving herself.
The Mackenzie family was truly that, one big happy family. With only some of them in attendance tonight, Jocelyn could only imagine what Mac and Imani’s wedding—and the reception—would be like. With plate in hand, Jocelyn made her way back to her table. She nodded politely to family members that smiled her way and was stopped several times to catch up with family and acquaintances that sauntered up to say hello.
She waved toward Ebony and Imani’s parents who were seated at one of the tables. She was stopped by her cousin Pearl who asked her if she knew if Imani had already ordered her wedding dress, offering the name of the boutique she’d purchased her own gown from. Jocelyn desperately wanted to take her seat. Her food was growing cold. She marveled at the size of Rasheed’s plate, filled to overflowing, as he made his way back to their table with a biscuit hanging out of his mouth. She cringed from the near spectacle he made as he barely sidestepped Uncle Cyrus’s rendition of the Moon Walk. She breathed an extra sigh of relief when he managed not to run into their clumsy great-uncle. All in all, she really was glad she decided to make the party. As she stood surrounded by more family asking about the couple’s plans, she missed the entrance of a very striking, very large man.
* * * *
Ahmad Dupree scanned the banquet room until he found the woman he came to see, crashing an engagement party in the process. Five years ago, Jocelyn Mackenzie saved his life. She didn’t know that, however, because the circumstances surrounding his accident—and attempted murder—needed her and everyone else involved to believe that he had died. Not a day went by that he didn’t think of her, his roadside angel. Had it not been for her stopping, he truly believed he would not be here this evening. He had his angel to thank for his very life. Yet now that he’d found her, he hesitated. He wondered if he was making a huge mistake in making contact with her. He also wondered if she ever thought of him or that fateful night. He knew he was making a pretty foolish gamble. She had probably buried that night within the recesses of her mind and here he was ready to dredge all that up again. For that matter, why would she recognize him? When she had last seen him “alive,” he’d been in pretty bad shape. His superiors had signed him into the hospital under an alias. Even if she had inquired, strict instructions were given to tell anyone that asked he’d died from his injuries.
Pushing his doubts aside for a moment, he remained out of si
ght, partially hidden within an alcove, and just took her in. Regal bearing came to mind as he watched her rejoin a small group of people. She was speaking to a couple and the conversation was lively. Her husky, sultry laughter struck a chord within him. He watched her as she held court. She was right there, a few feet away and he couldn’t tear his eyes from her, was riveted to the spot. His intense gaze roamed over her from the crown of her head, downward to the tips of her heels—and lingered on all points in between. His lips quirked in a smile as she slapped the hand of a young man and gestured to the large plate of food he had in his hands, effectively stopping him from snagging a piece of cornbread from her own.
Jocelyn Mackenzie was a beautiful woman wrapped in dusky-brown skin, with dark, smoldering eyes and a mouth that begged to be kissed and savored. Not overly curvaceous, her body reminded him of a dancer’s, athletic and toned. The high swells of her breasts made his palms ache to hold them. He had thoughts of himself with her, her long, hose-covered legs propped up on his bare shoulders.
He imagined the silky feel of her hosiery against his lips as he kissed her slim ankles, all the while slamming his cock to the hilt within her. The vivid picture he painted within his mind made him grow uncomfortably hard. Her hair was longer now than it was in the crumpled newspaper clipping he kept in his wallet. She had it pinned in a sleek updo that exposed her swan-like neck. He imagined himself trailing tender kisses upon it. He could stand there and drink her in all night.
Over the years he had acquired several pictures of her. He kept his collection of newspaper articles and candid photos of her in a scrapbook, which he’d gazed at over and over. He used his money and connections to keep up with her over the years. It hadn’t been easy to remain in the shadows, wanting to reach out to her, to let her know he was alive—and in love with her. He made sure his private security followed her. He wanted to know that she was safe. Even after all this time, he didn’t want to take any chances that the gunmen that attempted to kill him might have seen her stop. With each report on her whereabouts, he became more tempted until finally he couldn’t stay away. He was no longer with the FBI, and was now running his own security firm. He’d returned to St. Louis to establish an office in the city to be closer to her.
