The Dungeon Fantasy Club

by Anya Summers

  The only way around this review was to design Zoey the dress of her dreams. This meant she had to stop moping and get a move on. The only way past it, was through it. Zoey was meeting her in about an hour and a half for another fitting, which gave Elise just enough time to get prepped for it.

  Shoving her feelings under lock and key, she climbed out of bed and got herself dressed for the day. She considered ordering room service when her stomach somersaulted and churned. Instead of food, she opted for Tums for breakfast, washing the tablet down with water from the bathroom faucet. Elise realized she was ignoring Tyler's mandates, and while there was a part of her that hesitated to defy his orders, he wasn't the boss of her. A few orgasms, no matter how good, were not going to dictate her life. She had more important things to worry about anyhow, like making sure she could still afford her Manhattan rent.

  Elise was in her workroom inside of thirty minutes. The next hour flew by swiftly as she finished up a few of the prior adjustments.

  Zoey strolled in an hour later, looking as fresh as a spring rain. The dreamy glaze in her eyes was one Elise had witnessed time and time again in brides, the happy expectancy of being loved, and knowing that they were wanted not just for a night, but until death do they part. Normally it made Elise sigh with longing and a bit of sadness. Today, it felt like a sledgehammer blow to her midsection. Was she being sadistic in her career? Was that why her latest line had received such a horrid review? Because she designed wedding gowns with the knowledge she'd never make that trek down the aisle herself? Even though, in her heart of hearts, she wanted to be a man's keeper, the woman not discarded for someone less broken than she.

  "Morning."

  "Hey, Zoey. Ready for your fitting?"

  "Absolutely. Shoes, undergarments and all." She patted the shoebox in her arms. "Where do you want me?"

  "Why don't you head behind the privacy screen and I'll bring over the dress."

  Zoey didn't hesitate, moving with a spring in her step. Elise envied her. Oh, not her happiness, never that, but the surety of knowing you'd found your place in the world and who you belonged to. Zoey moved with a confidence and ease that Elise could only dream about. The saddest part was that, at one point, Elise had believed she'd achieved it. That the foundation she'd built for her life and her business was solid and secure, when in truth, what she'd built had been situated on quicksand and had been slowly sinking under her feet all along. It was only recently that she'd understood how much.

  Elise tied the last stitch, and then snipped the thread with her scissors. Zoey's gown was beginning to be weighty with the additions she had made. When it was all said and done, Zoey would end up wearing about twenty five pounds' worth of dress. But it was going to be gorgeous when finished. Probably one of the finest pieces she'd ever crafted.

  Elise hefted the dress in question and carted it over to the privacy screen. "Here you go. Let me know when you have it on and I will help get the back buttoned up."

  "Wow. You've already added so much detail. Really Elise, I am so impressed."

  "Thank you. Bear in mind that it's still not near the finished product yet. Once we have the hemline set, and we've made sure that you approve of the design going forward, I will start getting all the pearls and beadwork stitched in."

  "Gotcha. Okay, I think I've done as much as I could fasten on my own." Zoey stepped from behind the screen holding the top of the dress to her chest.

  "On it." Elise moved behind her and started fastening the zipper and then the multitude of decorative pearl buttons. "There. Why don't we head over to the dais so I can check the length and hem? Let me give you a hand there."

  She helped Zoey onto the dais.

  "I feel like a fairytale princess."

  "By the time I'm finished, you will look like one, too." Elise moved around Zoey, testing the fit and flare. The sweetheart neckline had been the right choice for Zoey. It left her excellent shoulders bare. Satisfied with the fit to Zoey's bust and waist, Elise grabbed her little caddy and sank to her knees.

  Putting a few pins in her mouth, she used her measurement tape to mark the length by starting at Zoey's waist so that the skirt belled to the floor on the front half and then the train spilled out behind her.

  "So, how are things going with Tyler?"

  At the unexpected question, Elise accidentally scraped a pin against her lip and tasted blood. "Fine. It's good. He's a very nice man."

  "And do you think the lifestyle is for you?"

  "Well, we've only just started my sub training so I haven't reached a conclusion on it yet." Elise attempted to deflect but Zoey was like a dog with a bone.

  "But so far, you like it, right?"

  Claire de Lune started playing from Elise's pants pocket.

  "Just a second." Elise was thrilled for the distraction until she spied Kara's face and number lighting up her screen. She pressed 'silent' and ignored the call on her phone before shoving it back in her pocket. "Sorry about that. Now, if you would hold still for me."

  "You didn't have to miss your call for me, you know. I'm not that formal."

  "It was just Kara. Probably just calling to check in on me and make sure I'm getting along all right here. She worries," Elise lied through her teeth. Deflect, deflect, deflect. She didn't want to go into it with either her best friend or her client.

  "Oh, when you talk to her, please tell her I said hello. It will be so nice to see her when she and the guys come back the week of the wedding."

  "I will, definitely."

  Elise focused on the task at hand, making uncommitted responses like 'mmhmm' and such until she was finished with marking the hem. She wavered a bit as she stood, probably since she hadn't eaten yet today. But the thought of food sent her stomach roiling in a mad tempest.

  "How do you feel about the fit? Is there any part of our design that you want to change or alter? If so, now is the time to do it."

  "None. It fits like a dream and after seeing the stitch pattern outline where the beading will go, I can't wait to see it when it's done."

  "Okay, good. Let me help you down and you can get undressed. The next step will be to alter the hemline, and I will start stitching the beading over that outline. The next time we have you do a fitting, it will be for minor alterations only."

  "Wow! That's so cool."

  Elise assisted Zoey back behind the privacy screen, where she undid the fastenings on the back.

  She waited on the other side for Zoey to hand her the gown. When Zoey was finished, she waltzed back around the privacy screen and asked, "Is there anything else you need from me?"

  "Nope. I'm just going to sit here and get started right away on those alterations. Thanks."

  "Okay, then I will see you at dinner, perhaps. Mrs. Stewart is making this zucchini lasagna that is to die for."

  At the mention of food, Elise's stomach became a two-year-old at a tumbling class. "Maybe. I may just have dinner in my room later. I just want to get these alterations going."

  Guilt swamped her at Zoey's crestfallen look. She knew Zoey must be lonely for female companionship, but right at that moment, Elise didn't have anything left inside her to give. Not if she was going to make this dress a smashing success.

  "All right, if you're certain," Zoey said.

  "Maybe tomorrow." Elise tried to assuage the hurt she'd caused her client, whom she could totally see being her friend if things were different. If she were different, and not so under the gun here.

  "Okay, I'll leave you to your work then."

  And then Zoey left and Elise felt like she was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. She didn't have to pretend that everything was okay anymore and could just focus on work. And that was exactly what she did. The hours passed and Elise worked. The sun rose high in the sky and then made its wayward descent for the night. And through it all, Elise worked, not stopping for anything save a bathroom break here and there, and to stretch the kink that had begun forming in her neck as she sat hunched over her tabl
e, stitching the hemline first before moving on to start the bead work.

  Elise was so lost in what she was doing she never glanced up at the time. All the while, Miss Shaw's scathing review played on repeat in her brain.

  Elise Beauregard's much anticipated Bridal Spring line for her Beauties collection, while attempting to capture the grace of angels ascending the gates of heaven, looks more like a garish cornucopia of mixed lines more suited to the circus than the runway or any bride's idea of the perfect wedding finery. The warmer months these gowns were intended for lend to the diaphanous use of silk materials, which unfortunately hit way off the mark. Has the fashion industry's rising star already sputtered out?

  Gah! She pulled out the stitch that was giving her fits. She was working on a sash that would be added across the waist of the gown. About three quarters of an inch in width, the whole thing was going to be encrusted with a patterned mixture of crystals, diamonds, and pearls. With Zoey's body type, setting off her waist in this way would be stunning.

  A hand touched her shoulder and she screeched, jabbing her finger with her needle.

  "Christ Jesus on a stick!" She swiveled in her chair, putting her bleeding thumb in her mouth.

  Tyler stood there, all big and bad with a hard expression across his face.

  "What?" she murmured around her thumb.

  "You're late." He crossed his arms over his chest, his expression darkening.

  "Hm, oh right, sorry about that. I got caught up, is all. If you'll give me an hour, I can be there."

  "No. You need to stop what you're doing and come with me now. Otherwise we can end the arrangement."

  "What? Are you kidding me? If you haven't noticed, I'm working here. I have a job to do and that comes before anything else, including any sub training."

  "Elise, you weren't at dinner, and Zoey mentioned you'd been at this all day. I think you've worked long enough. Finish whatever it is you were doing when I arrived and we will leave. You can reconvene in the morning."

  "No." Who the hell did he think he was? Just because they'd had sex, and she had agreed for him to instruct her in the ways of the lifestyle, it didn't give him carte blanche over her life and how she ran it. Oh no, siree.

  His face turned thunderous and she glared right back at him. She'd faced down bipolar bridezillas having a panic attack; she would not back down from a bad-tempered Dom who didn't get his way.

  Elise was not sure, exactly, how everything happened next. But everything seemed to happen in slow motion, like it did in the movies when something horrible was about to go down. One minute she was about to turn back to her work, and the next, Tyler was attempting to remove the beaded sash from her hand with a simple tug. The fury that had somehow gone missing chose that moment to rear its damn head. She snarled and snatched her sash back from him, which resulted in a tug of war battle over the sash. Elise should have let go, really she should have, but Tyler should have known better.

  The sound of material ripping filled the silent battle of wills between them, and Elise watched in horror as the work she'd done over the last three hours severed in two and beads cascaded onto the floor. She held the broken shards of the sash, her breath backing up and bubbling in her chest. The terror and horror of the last few months seemed to explode from within the deepest darkest recesses of her soul.

  "How could you?"

  She scrambled onto her hands and knees, searching for all the beads, unable to stop the tears from falling.

  "Elise, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

  "Get out. Haven't you done enough damage? All my work, you ruined it." She sobbed as she crept on her hands and knees. She batted his hands away when he tried to pick her up off the ground.

  She just kept replaying it all as the tempest seemed to overtake her. Tyler was silent as she crept along the floor, her sobs flowing unchecked. When he bodily picked her up, she screeched and fought his hold.

  "No, let me go. I have to find them and start over. I have to make this right. Just let me go."

  "Not a chance. You can finish looking for them in the morning. I will help you, but for now, you are coming with me."

  And with that he carried her from her workroom. Elise couldn't have stopped the tears if she'd tried. She cried into his solid shoulder as he carried her, and she cursed him, calling him every name in the book.

  He took her to her room, not to his, but it barely registered as she felt herself begin to shut down. It was easier not to feel, not to want anything special or wish for things, when all you received was disappointment.

  Tyler cursed himself as he hoisted Elise and carried her to her room. She was in no shape tonight for another lesson. If anything, she was scaring the hell out of him. The wisp of a woman trembled so violently in his arms her teeth were chattering.

  He shouldn't have pushed her the way he had. After last night, he had been a mite eager to begin her training again. When she didn't appear at the scheduled hour, he had begun pacing his room. When she was more than thirty minutes late, he had gone in search of her, only to find her hunched over her work. Christ, the woman worked hard. He appreciated that, understood what it took to run a company, but Zoey had told him Elise had declined to eat dinner with them. When he'd checked in the kitchens, Mrs. Stewart had mentioned she'd not fed the lass all day, the poor thing, and was she feeling all right.

  From the looks of it, Elise was anything but all right.

  Bound and determined to get to the bottom of it, he opted for the shortest distance—her room—to get her away from her work. The scene he had planned to do with her that evening could wait for another night. Tremors wracked her slight bones and her fragility made him want to defend her from any foe. Even if that foe was his hurt pride.

  Shoving open the door to her room, Tyler shut it behind them with his foot. He didn't bother with the lock. No one would intrude on them in this place, at least not unannounced. He strode over to the bed, cradling Elise against his chest. He laid her down and she just stared off into space, her sobs now no more than violent hiccups that shook her frame. He turned her face up toward his and her moss eyes had this thousand-yard stare glazing them. She was looking at him but not actually seeing anything. Christ, what had he done?

  "Elise, come on honey, talk to me. What's really going on?"

  He stroked her cheek, getting no response. He shook her slightly, concentrating on her reaction, or lack thereof.

  "Come on, sweetheart. We will get it all fixed in the morning. Elise, can you hear me?"

  He snapped his fingers in front of her face and nothing registered. She didn't even flinch or so much as blink, she just stared off into space with a blank look on her face. Guilt crushed him. He had failed her in the worst way possible and it tore him up inside.

  With extreme care, Tyler repositioned Elise so she lay on her stomach. She moved without resistance, like a broken doll. With a prayer that he could get through to her, he climbed up on the bed, straddled her rear, and began to massage the muscles in her back. The woman had knots the size of Mack trucks, she was so tightly wound.

  "Elise, what is really going on? What has you so upset that you would not eat all day long?" He set up a pattern, working at the tight muscles in her shoulders, down between her shoulder blades and back up again.

  "Talk to me, sweetheart. I won't let anything bad happen to you."

  He kept up his pattern, talking to her patiently as he massaged her back. Tyler was about to stop, poised to withdraw, when her whole body convulsed and shuddered like a great beast awakening from a slumber. Her sobs made relief flood his system.

  She cried as if her world would never be whole again. It broke his heart to hear her. Gently, so as not to spook her, or stall her progress, he gently moved beside her until he could cradle her in his arms. He stroked her cheek, soothing and reassuring her with his touch.

  "I've got you. No one will hurt you, sweetheart. Let it out," he soothed as the storm of her emotions rushed out in a deluge.

 
He rocked and comforted her as her tears blanketed his chest. She was so fragile, he wanted nothing more than to protect her from the world, be her knight in shining armor. As her tears waned into hiccups, he tilted her face up, seeing a spark of life inside the green depths of her eyes.

  "I'm sorry, Elise, about the material. Can you tell me why you were so adamant about it? Why didn't you just let go?"

  Tears filled her eyes, making them appear like a dew-covered forest. "Zoey's dress has to be perfect. I have to finish it before everyone knows."

  "Before everyone knows what, sweetheart?" He caught her tears with his thumb, wiping them gently from her cheeks.

  "That I'm a failure."

  "Why would you think that?"

  "It's true. My spring line is tanking. Fashion critic Vicki Shaw was only too happy to eviscerate my line with her review."

  "I see. And when did this review go public?"

  "Today. Kara received her advance copy of the magazine in the mail, and called me."

  "Anything else?"

  "There was this bride I had designed a dress for last spring. When I realized, after the twenty-fifth design, that I was not going to be able to create the gaudy dress she wanted, we parted ways. Ever since then she has been on a one woman campaign to destroy my credibility as a designer."

  Christ, was it any wonder that she'd had a meltdown? He'd witnessed businessmen lose it over their name not being spelled correctly in a trade magazine. She awed him with her strength and ingenuity to forge ahead even with the deck stacked so steeply against her.

  "I'm sorry." He kissed her temple, running his hands in soothing circles over her back, massaging the knots of muscle.

  "It's not your fault. I can't seem to get it right."

  "Get what right?"

  She chuckled darkly. "Life."

  "I wouldn't say that. It takes a lot of courage to keep on moving when the deck is already stacked against you. And from what I heard from Zoey tonight at dinner, she couldn't be more pleased with her gown if you dipped it in gold and chocolate. From where I'm sitting, I think you're doing a remarkable job, and are one hell of a woman."