by Mimi Tulane
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Jocelyn couldn’t believe what was happening in her parlor right before her eyes. Everything took on a surreal feeling, from the timbre of his voice to the way he slowly knelt in front of her. He wasn’t here by accident.
“Why didn’t you contact me sooner? Or for that matter say something to me at the party the night you crashed it?” she asked him, searching his face as he knelt before her.
“It didn’t seem right. I was taking a huge risk by dropping in on you like that. When the young blood offered me a business card to your club, I took that as my sign that this was the place to reveal myself. Jocelyn, are you angry with me?” He was waiting for her to respond and she honestly didn’t know what she was feeling at that very moment.
Part of her wanted to slap his face and send him packing. He’d deceived her by coming to her in this manner. He’d deceived her and she felt…used. “Ahmad, I don’t know what I’m feeling at the moment. Part of me can understand, the rational part of why your ruse was the best thing for all. I understand making decisions that can affect the well-being of others and the weight of that responsibility.” There it was, his compelling story. There was no way he could have told her, a stranger, the truth. Five years he lived with that memory and only Lord knew what else. She got that. But that night had marked her as well. It hadn’t been easy to get the sight of him out of her mind or come to grips with the loss of his death. It had been an unexplained, senseless tragedy and it had taken time to put that behind her. When they had told her he died, she had took the news pretty hard. She thought if she’d just had more training with emergency procedures, he may have survived those terrible injuries.
In her heart that had been the first time in her life where she felt utterly helpless and unable to help another living soul. She felt she had failed him somehow. What she had done had not been enough to help spare his life. She’d been so angry by the injustice of it all. Now here he was, five years later, kneeling in her parlor. The name she never got—Ahmad Dupree. The name of her faceless mystery man. Even his name suited him. It meant one who is praise worthy. Surely his service to his country had been just that but at what cost? “Jocelyn, Mistress, say something. Say anything, hell, slap my face. If you want me to go I will…but I won’t stay away.” He was making yet another declaration and Jocelyn was moved to respond to him.
“Ahmad, this is a bit much for me to process. Finding you like that, left for dead on the side of the road, was the most terrifying night of my life. I even prayed that you’d make it…” She spoke quietly in a measured cadence. “You can’t possibly know what a toll your death took on me. I blamed myself. I thought I could have, should have been able to do more to help you survive.”
“And you did, Mistress. I survived because you took care of me that night. You lent me your strength and I was able to hang in there. I won’t lie, for a moment there it was touch and go. But each time I thought I’d fade away I heard your voice.”
Jocelyn cupped his face, finally allowing herself the luxury of tracing her fingertips hesitantly along his strong jaw line. She touched him briefly before pulling her hand away, shaking her head, still in disbelief. “I felt awful when the doctor told me you’d died. I wondered time and again why anyone would want to hurt you, Ahmad. I even lived for a time in fear that the person that had shot you would somehow find me.”
Ahmad stared back at her with a flash of regret. “No, Jocelyn. Knowing what was at stake, the danger your life might have been in, I couldn’t take that chance. There hasn’t been a time since that night that you aren’t shadowed. After I left the FBI, my private security team kept me abreast of your safety. I felt it was my responsibility to make sure no one harmed you because of me.”
For a moment, Jocelyn was stunned, then indignation engulfed her. “You had me followed? What gave you the right to assume any responsibility on my behalf?” She stood up angrily but Ahmad reached up to hold her by her hips. He was still kneeling before her, and looking down into his determined eyes, she was extremely conflicted. The idea of someone following her, reporting her business to him, was unsettling to say the least. Her privacy invaded and her life, maybe even the lives of her family, endangered because her of her decision to stop and his decision to perpetrate his ruse. He said he did it because he felt responsible—he wanted to keep her safe. He might have meant well, but he’d stepped over that invisible line she kept drawn and now she didn’t know what action she should take. Continue on hearing him out or have his ass thrown out. Her own indecision galled her. “All right, Ahmad, you say you did this, kept up this elaborate ruse, invaded my privacy because you have some misguided feelings of responsibility? Is that it? I can’t help feeling that there’s more and damn it you owe me the truth—all of it!” She felt herself trembling in anger but he remained kneeling in front of her, kneeling at her feet, and his expression alone had her terrified only because she didn’t dare read into what his eyes were imploring.
“You are correct, Mistress. There is more. Yes I felt responsible. This case and its consequences were mine to bear but it all changed. The moment you stopped, the moment you came to me like an angel of mercy…I can’t tell you exactly when I knew, but I’m here because I’m in love with you. I know how this must sound and even I couldn’t make sense of it but if there is one thing I am sure of it is that I know we belong together.” Jocelyn’s heart was hammering. What was he saying to her?
“Every day during my five-year exile, my love for you grew a bit stronger. I tried to deny it. I wondered if it was obsession or the latent post-traumatic stress of a near-death experience. In the end I knew that it wasn’t. I had fallen madly in love with you and I’d do anything within my power to keep you safe.” Jocelyn’s face was heating and her heart drummed within her breast. Ahmad was speaking to her from the depths of his soul and she instinctively felt his sincerity was genuine. Was this the man she had longed for all her life, the desire she had been afraid to voice? A man that was solely hers, who was not afraid of her strength, who knew when to lead and when to be led—was Ahmad that man? “Jocelyn, I learned a great deal about you from having you shadowed. I know your favorite flavor of ice cream is Kitchen Sink. Your favorite color is purple. Pink tea roses are your favorite flower and Napoleon Dynamite is your favorite movie. That in five years you haven’t had a steady boyfriend and have never been married. You are a Dominatrix and owner of this fantastic establishment. Angel, I wouldn’t want you to be anything but who and what you are.”
When she shook her head no and tried to pull away again he continued to hold her but remained kneeling. “I’m no saint or squeaky clean. I’ve had to make some tough decisions in the line of duty that didn’t always sit well with my personal beliefs. But I made them for the good of those in my charge. Whatever this life lends to you, I want to be a part of that. I want to learn this life from you. I can’t be a bystander any longer baby, watching you from afar—it’s not enough. My God, woman, I need you in my life!”
Faster than she could process, Ahmad stood to his feet, pulling her into his arms. Dipping his head, he seared his sincerity clean down to her soul. He kissed her with all the demand of a lover, the need of a man starving for the affection of his lady love. His tongue swept against her lips and she parted for him, startled that he could elicit such a needy response from her. She gripped the front of his suit, not sure to pull away or deepen his demand. They hung like that for what seemed like an eternity but all too soon the moment was over. They stared deeply into each other’s eyes before he sunk back to his knees, awaiting her response.
Jocelyn shook her head. “You don’t even know me, Ahmad, you just think you do.” Sighing, she gave up on being angry. His kiss had seen to that. Truth was, this man knew how to handle business plain and simple, and he knew how to handle a woman. He was not going to be easily led about nor would she want a man like that. He was secure in who he was and wasn’t making any bones about what he’d come here for and why. Clearly not the cons
ultation she was expecting but it was what it was.
“What are you expecting, Ahmad? Can you at least see how all this might be a bit one-sided? You’ve had years to ‘study’ me, and to arrive at some glorified perception of me. I’m no saint either and I’m hardly perfect!” She turned and walked a few feet away, putting distance between them. His kiss had engulfed her, igniting a flame of need clear down to her clit, setting fire to her, and if she wasn’t careful she’d burn. The idea of those large hands at her command gave her an ache so deep that there was only one way for it to be appeased.
“I just want you to give me a chance. I’m not afraid to enter into this lifestyle but I am afraid of you turning me away.” Jocelyn slowly walked back over to him. This larger-than-life man had boldly called her Mistress, with such acceptance and without so much as a doubt that it was all right with her—and it was all right with her. Her heart was pounding when she stood in front of him.
“Then consider your consultation over. I demand to know one thing. Are you asking for this to be some sort of thrill or do you truly want me as your Mistress?” She wasn’t going to beat around the bush. This man made her feel things she had never remotely felt for another before. For the second time in her life, she felt terrified. Both times now it was due to him.
“Mistress Lady J, I want you to be my Mistress and to be mine. I will accept whatever you give to me, if not your love right now, your discipline. In time, I have no doubts I will earn your love.” The determination in his voice along with the fire in his eyes was beginning to sway her. She knew her heart wasn’t there, not yet, but maybe—just maybe—it could be if she gave him half a chance.
“All right, Ahmad, I hear you and I will give this, whatever this is, a chance. However, you will not have your encounter tonight and not here at the club by any means. I want to take things slow with you, and privately. Do you understand and accept these terms?”
“Yes, Mistress, I understand and accept your terms.” His reply was prompt and full of confidence.
“Very well, stand up off the floor. Go to parade rest. You’re an ex-agent so you should already know what that means.” There wouldn’t be an encounter tonight but she’d give him an inkling of what her brand of discipline entailed. He did as she asked, snapping to parade rest, the fabric of his suit jacket pulled taught over his large arms. She felt herself growing wet thinking of what those arms and his chest would look like bare and oiled. “We’ll meet at my place tomorrow night. We will work out a valid contract between us and I will then commence with your introduction into the lifestyle. As for anything else, I won’t commit to—at least not yet.”
“Thank you, Mistress, is there a time you’d like me to be there?” With his gaze staring off above her head and with her pacing back and forth, much like a drill sergeant, the give and take she desperately craved had begun. “Seven is fine but don’t come dressed to kill. Wear loose clothing, preferably a T-shirt and sweats, sneakers. Our first session will be about protocol and expectations on both our parts. As for tonight, our business here is concluded. You may go now.” And with that she turned on her heel and left him there in the parlor to watch her retreating back. She sent Carmen back to escort him out and gave her instructions to leave her address and contact numbers with him.
She was going to clear her calendar for the next few weeks and see just what Ahmad Dupree was made of. If he was all words and no substance, she’d find that out soon enough. Secretly, her heart was hoping for that not to be the case.
Chapter 7
After her consultation with Ahmad, Jocelyn needed a moment to compose herself. She also needed to speak to the one person she knew would hear her out and not judge her. She headed to her office, closing the door, and dialed her best friend. When Imani answered, she blurted out, “I’ve met someone, sort of.” “Okay…I need deets, and no worries, this is us talking. If you wanted Mac to know you’d have asked for him. What’s his name?” Sighing with relief Jocelyn truly thanked her stars for her best friend. Even after telling her about her how own life as a Domme Imani loved her nonetheless and kept their conversations as she always did remaining true to their friendship. She’d worried like her cousin Mac that if Imani knew it might put her off, drive a wedge between their friendship. She should have known better.
“His name is Ahmad Dupree and we actually met five years ago.” She told her the abbreviated version of his story and their reintroduction. “Oh my damn, girl, for once I don’t know what to say. I guess what I’d want to know is, do you feel and most of all can you trust him? Because it sounds to me he’s gone through hell and back already for you and would do it again—if that’s not love, then what is?” Imani was only voicing her own doubts and longings. It felt good to have a person she could speak to plainly as a woman. “That’s what he’s told me, shug, that he’s in love with me, but I’m…okay I’m scared. This could be some mental game he’s running on me, taking advantage of what happened in the past.” Jocelyn chewed her bottom lip then stopped. Clearly she picked up a few habits from her best friend as well at least when no one was around to see. “Jocie, I hate to say this but this is something you’re going to have to work out within your own heart. You take such good care of everyone, putting their needs before your own. Why are you so afraid of putting yourself first for once?” Imani asked her softly. “I don’t know, shug,” Jocelyn replied in a whisper. “You don’t need anyone’s permission to love, sweetie. However, I would still tell someone besides me, and we both know Mac isn’t the one. He’ll go try to interrogate the man and run him off!” Now that broke the dam for Jocelyn and she began to laugh and once she did Imani’s giggle wasn’t far behind. “Thanks, shug,” she simply offered to which Imani replied just as simply, “You know I got you.”
Jocelyn hung up the phone then called Rasheed and Carmen to her office to speak to them privately. “I need to take some time off. I know we are in the middle of planning the con, but, Rasheed, you can handle things here. I’ll check in with you but for the next few weeks I’ll be taking care of another matter…a personal one.” Carmen nodded then left to return to the floor, which Jocelyn knew she was doing to give her time to talk privately with Rasheed, who had remained silent until she left. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the sharp dresser? I saw him and his boy, hightailing it out of the club. He looked like a brother with a lot on his mind.” He spoke slowly and a bit suspiciously as if trying to put pieces to a puzzle together he didn’t quite all have.
Jocelyn inwardly groaned. Rasheed was intuitive, a necessary trait for any Dominant to have. But he was her cousin and protective—a typical Mackenzie male.
“Yes it does and I am not going to go into any long, drawn-out explanations.” There, she pulled rank and hoped that would suffice. She should have known better. “Jocie, what’s up with this cat, do you already know him? I know you hate the third degree about your private life, you know I feel you on that score, but this dude, he ain’t the one to fuck with, and if he’s that kind of trouble, you don’t need to start nothing with him.” He stubbornly folded his arms for emphasis and Jocelyn’s heart melted. “Cub, what I tell you stays with you, understood?” He nodded, then she explained why she needed her time and told him as much as she dared. She knew Rasheed wouldn’t be thrilled but she hoped he’d at least understand.
“Damn. I’m not going to get in the way of you finding out if he’s for real about his feelings, Jocie, just be careful. If he hurts you, he has more than a little shit to deal with coming his way. I trust your judgment, and if first impressions are saying much he strikes me as a man that would ride or die. From what you’ve told me, well damn, just check in with me okay?”
Jocelyn gave her cousin a tight hug. “Cub, trust me, the last thing you need to worry about is me with Ahmad Dupree. This is something I need to do.” On his way out she asked him to send in Carmen. She gave Carmen instructions on Donna’s care, telling her to give both her home and cell numbers to the physician and therapist in
case they needed to reach her while she was away, as well as a few last minute instructions on cancelling her consultations until further notice.
With that bit of business taken care of, Jocelyn left the club early to head for home. She had things she needed to do in preparation of Ahmad’s arrival before tomorrow. Yet something again was bothering her about all this. In light of his confession, she realized her normal procedure of requiring a background check before taking on a private client wouldn’t have given her any details of who he was prior. She had only his word to go on and his profession of love. She’d have to really be on her guard, and felt better about telling Imani and Rasheed. It didn’t hurt to err on the side of caution. It wasn’t as if she truly knew Ahmad, but that would be one of her top priorities. To find out as much about the man as she could, she’d start with a simple enough ruse of her own.
He wanted her. He claimed he wanted her on her terms. However, honesty and trust were what she craved. Not knowing about his past posed more questions, such as, what sort of life had he led prior his being a federal agent? He mentioned having a security detail. Did that mean they could still be in danger? Did he have a family or someone special in his life before his “epiphany”? So many questions about him were swirling around inside her head. How would he react to her asking him to divulge his past to her?
