Petra
After a night of sleeping in the softest bed I’ve ever been in, I find I’m alone in the giant bedroom Grant put us in for the night. I’m more than a bit surprised when I roll over and find my cell on the bedside table.
Picking it up, I see a message from Owen. It says to go take a shower and put on the clothes he’s left for me in the bathroom and to text him when I’m done.
Climbing out of the huge bed, I find my body is stiff from the activities of last night. I also find the smile that’s formed on my face won’t go away. Rubbing my ass that aches in a way I never knew I’d enjoy, I head to the bathroom to do as my man has told me to.
The first thing I notice is the pretty little dress that’s hanging on the hook on the back of the door where a robe would usually hang. A clear plastic bag holds a knee-length dark blue dress. A brown paper bag on the floor underneath it has a sexy white bra and panty set and a pair of black heels.
But I see nothing else. Nothing to do my hair with. Nothing to fix up my face with. Nothing. Just clothes to dress in. It kind of bums me out, as I’d like to look pretty for whatever our day holds.
After a quick shower, I dress and text Owen that I’m done. He texts back that I need to wait in the bedroom. I do as he’s said and go sit on the small sofa that’s in front of a picture window. The view from the third floor is gorgeous. Tall trees form the edge of the forest that’s to the left of the mansion. A swimming pool, the size of my apartment back home, fills the right side.
The way Grant lives has me wondering why he doesn’t have a significant other. He’s got to be about forty; the salt and pepper in his hair tells me that. The man is built well and handsome. It makes no sense why he hasn’t found someone. But then again, he may be divorced and starting over. Who am I to butt into his life? I’m sure he has it the way he wants it.
Just as I stop pondering the man who isn’t my business, there’s a quick knock at my door. Then two women come in. “Hi, Petra. Your very handsome man has sent us to you. Hair and make-up are what we do,” a very pretty little blonde tells me.
She and the other tall, dark haired woman set their things up on the large vanity in the room, and I wait, with tons of curiosity. “Did he say why he’s having you two do this for me today?”
The brunette answers, “He did not. He just told us to work with your natural beauty.”
Picking up my cell, I ask him what this is all about, and he answers for me not to ask questions and let them do their job. When they’re done, I’m to wait for him.
The blonde gestures for me to come and sit in the chair and the two get to work on me. I can’t stop myself from digging for information. “Are there people out there? Like paparazzi?”
The blonde shakes her head and takes out a curling wand, getting to work making spiral curls. The other one puts some kind of cool gel all over my face. “You have gorgeous skin, Petra.”
“Thanks.” I tilt my head back as she smears stuff on my lips. “And what’s this stuff?”
“This will make you glow even more than you would normally,” the brunette tells me. Then she picks up a small, handheld fan and points it at me, making my face get very cold.
The two work on me for about an hour, then turn me around to look at what I’ve become. “Wow!” I smile at my reflection, then at them. “You two are miracle workers. I’ve never looked so good.”
“You were gorgeous already,” the blonde says as she packs up her things. “Have a lovely day.” They leave me sitting in the chair, gazing at myself and wondering what the hell Owen has up his sleeve.
Waiting for nearly half an hour, I get impatient and pick up my cell, when the door opens, and Owen is standing there. He’s wearing a dark blue suit that looks like it cost a million bucks, he has a freshly shaved face, and his hair is cut. He’s Dr. Cantrell, at his finest.
I get up and walk toward him. “Hey,” he says as he looks me over.
“Hey, yourself. You look hot as hell.” I touch his smooth cheek. “You got yourself all cleaned up.”
“I wanted you to get the real me. Not the man I become when I try to hide from the world.” His lips graze mine as he breathes me in.
My head goes light, as the man just gets to me in a way no one ever has. “So, I get the real you. I feel lucky.”
“I feel lucky,” he says as he walks inside, moving me with him and closing the door.
“Did we get all fancy to stay in today?” I ask him as he takes my hand and leads me to the window on the opposite side of the room.
“I’ll let you decide that, Petra.” He pulls me close and kisses me lightly. “Today, you’ll make all the decisions.”
“Okay,” I say, as I feel a little odd. “Um, I hate to bring up bad things, but what about the press and the problem with all that?”
“Fuck them all,” he says, then pulls my hand up and kisses it. “I’m not going to bother explaining a damn thing. Nothing I do is anyone’s concern, save yours, Petra. You’re the only one I care about.”
“Wow. You make me feel pretty special.”
The sound of an airplane seeps into the room, and Owen opens the large window. “It seems it’s time.”
“For what?” I ask. “Do you have a plane coming for us? Are we all going somewhere? Or are just you and I going somewhere?”
“That’s up to you.” He looks out the window, and I follow his gaze.
A banner is flying behind the plane, a white banner with red letters. I can’t read it, it’s too far away, and Owen looks at me with a grin. “I can’t read it, Owen.”
“Wait a minute. It’ll get closer.” His hands begin to get cold, and I look down at our clasped hands, wondering why that is and what he’s doing.
When the plane gets closer, I see the first word, ‘Will.’
My knees buckle. “No …”
He looks at me with worry. “Petra?”
I look at the next word, ‘You.’
“Oh, God!”
“Petra?”
The next words have me nearly fainting, ‘Marry Me?’
My knees give out, and he picks me up and holds me as he looks into my eyes. I see his pinky wiggling out of my peripheral vision. An enormous diamond sparkles in the sun’s light as it hangs around his finger.
Sobs begin, my eyes blur, and his lips press against my forehead. “Baby, don’t cry.”
Hanging onto his neck, I bury my face in his chest. “This can’t be real. It can’t be! I was supposed to come to Portland to make money to pay for college. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love. Everyone told me that would never happen. The doctor that I watched, and had fantasies about, came and won me. This can’t be real. It has to be a dream. The whole thing has to be a dream. Things like this don’t happen.”
“It’s real,” he whispers. “And I want you to marry me, Petra Bakari. I want you to marry me today, in Las Vegas. Then I’ll take you to the Fiji Islands for a month-long honeymoon. All you have to do is say, yes. Petra, will you make me the happiest man in the entire world and marry me?”
The knot in my throat is huge. I can’t speak. I can’t think, either. Then his lips touch mine, and it’s all gone. All the nerves vanish. “Yes, Owen Cantrell, I will marry you.”
He shouts, “Yes!” Then he puts that monster engagement ring on my finger and the heaviness of it does something to my heart. It stops, then starts up again with a pounding force.
I’m getting married!
I laugh as he carries me out of the room. Down the stairs we go, and all the way through the mansion. Out a back door he goes, as Grant holds it open. “Congratulations, you two.”
I smile and wave as Owen hurries to get me to a waiting, shiny, black helicopter. “Thank you, Grant. For everything.”
He nods and waves, then closes the door. Owen puts me into the seat, and I scoot over so he can get in. I see my purse is on the seat. I pick it up and look at him for an explanation.
“I went to the hotel this morning and got our th
ings. The van had been picked up, thanks to Isabel. Our cell phones had been taken to the hotel and the staff put them in our room. You’ll need your identification to marry me. And we’ll have to do some shopping before we head out. I didn’t pack for a tropical island. I sent my bags back home. Back to our home, Petra.”
My stomach hurts a little, as I think about all the changes I’m making. “I’ll have to empty out my apartment.”
“I’m going to have that taken care of. I’ll have it all packed up and sent to California. You get to pick which place we go home to, the mansion in Big Bear or the Malibu beach house.”
He buckles me up, then the pilot starts the engine and lifts the machine up. I scream and hold tight to Owen’s hand. After we’re up and moving, he takes some headphones that are hung up in front of us and puts a set on me. Then he puts on a set. I speak into the small microphone that’s attached, answering his previous question, “Um, how about we go to your home in Big Bear? We’ll apparently be doing the beach for a month. We don’t want to get burned out.”
“First, never call anything just mine again. Everything is ours. Got it?” He taps the end of my nose, as if he needs to get my attention.
He has my attention. My undivided attention!
“Ours?” I ask, as I shake my head. “This doesn’t seem real. I’m about to be ultra-rich just by marrying the man I love. It’s crazy, Owen!”
“No, it’s love, Petra. I’ve never known love until I knew you. I’ve never been whole until I held you. And I want you to share all the things I have, as you’ve shared your heart and soul with me.” He kisses my cheek, and I start bawling like a baby.
He can’t be this sweet. Things can’t be this easy. Life doesn’t work that way!
Owen
“The answer is no, Roger. I won’t be going back to that show. I don’t want to be a part of it any longer.” I rub my temples, then sigh as Petra leans against my back and takes over.
“Allow me, my sweet husband.” Her fingers move with a delicate touch, making circles and easing the pain the phone call from the head producer has caused.
“Dena’s off the show. You have nothing to worry about. When we found out the whole truth, we cut her quick, and in a hurry. We don’t want people on our show who seek to find a scandal to hurt their co-stars.”
“It’s not just her, Roger. I’ve been unhappy for a long time with not only the show, but also my practice. I’ve been looking around online since I’ve been out of the country on my honeymoon. There are so many better places I can work, that help people. I’m thinking about joining Doctors Without Borders. My wife has told me she’d like that a lot. She’s going to finish up her teaching degree, and she can help out in the areas I go to. It’s a win-win for us. A real no-brainer.”
Petra kisses my cheek, then walks in front of me with her little teal-colored bikini on. The tattoo on her left arm matches mine and looks sexy as hell on her. We wanted something even more permanent than the wedding rings we have. So, we picked out a tribal tat that means forever. Because that’s what we are, forever.
Roger’s voice is faint in my ear as I watch Petra step off the front porch of our bungalow to get into the clear, warm water. “Okay, you win. You can have your show, Owen. Just you. Wherever you want. We’ll make it happen.”
“I don’t want my own show. But it sounds like my fans have been outspoken about me. That’s always nice to hear. I’ll Tweet my fans my appreciation and how I want to do more with my life and my talent. They’ll understand.”
“What about us?” he asks, as if I give two shits about the people who’ve plagued me for the last five years.
I had a nice practice in Beverly Hills. I did regular maintenance on a few of the stars. But I did a lot of serious stuff too. When I saw dollar signs and had visions of being a star myself, I took their offer. At first, it was great. I was popular, and the women swarmed all over me. Money and chicks were what I thought I wanted.
Sure, I was happy as a man could be, in the beginning. Little by little, that faded away. There was no way it could’ve kept me happy forever. The days became monotonous and the nights blurred into each other. Nothing stood out.
Then I found Petra. From the moment, I saw her picture, I knew there was something about her. I woke up with a mission, win her. I went to sleep with only one thought, win her. Then I won her and man, how life has changed.
I can’t go back to the way it was. I don’t care how much fame and fortune they offer me. I can’t go back to that life. A life where producers own me.
“Roger, don’t make me say hateful things. My wife hates it when I do that. Just take no for an answer.” I get up and walk to the edge of the porch and watch Petra as she floats on her back, looking up at the evening sky.
“Okay, here’s the last deal I can make you. It involves your new wife. I’ve been authorized to offer you both a million dollars upfront, to star in a reality show about your marriage. The whole thing, even the BDSM stuff. America wants to know more. And you and your wife can take them on that journey with you. What do you say? The two mill isn’t all you’ll get. You’ll each get twenty percent of the royalties. And this is unheard of, Owen, but you both will get an astounding fifty-thousand for each episode, and when you allow us to film your BDSM stuff, that amount jumps to two-hundred-thousand each.”
Clearing my throat, I ask my wife, “Petra, I need to ask you if you want to do this. It does include you too. I don’t want to answer this on my own.”
She swims up to the bottom stair and sits on it. “Shoot.”
I take a seat on one of the wooden chairs on the deck. “They’re offering us a show. One where we’ll each get lots of money. It’ll be about our marriage and our involvement in BDSM. Apparently, America wants to know more about it, and they want to learn it through us. What do you think about that?”
“Hmmm. Let me think about that for a minute. They want you and me to be on television, doing BDSM scenes? Is that right?” she asks.
Roger hears her and answers, “Yes. Tell her, yes. And tell her that you two can do all of those kinds of scenes you want to. The more, the merrier.”
“He says we can do all those scenes we want. And they’ll pay us a ton more to do them. Pretty great money, baby.” I wink at her.
She winks back at me. “Isn’t it, though?” She climbs out of the water and sits on my lap, then wraps her arms around my neck. “Does this producer of yours know that those scenes can be very explicit?”
Roger hears her and says, “We’ll deal with all that. You don’t have to worry. You two can do anything you want, and we’ll film it in such a way that our channel will allow it. Hell, neither of you has to do a damn thing but allow us to follow your every move. There’s no easier money than that.”
“No, there’s not,” I agree.
Petra kisses my neck, and my cock gets hard. “So, what do you think, Owen? Do we put our dreams aside and get nasty on television for the American people?”
“Not just Americans,” Roger adds. “We have more markets too. You’ll be known worldwide.”
“As porn stars,” Petra says, then licks the spot just behind my ear.
“No,” Roger corrects her. “Not porn stars. You two will be the average couple who happens to enjoy BDSM. Nothing pornographic about it. Just letting people know a lot more about it. So, can I count on you two to come in as soon as you get done with your honeymoon and sign our contracts?”
“Oh, no,” Petra says with a pouty lip. “Did he say contracts?”
“He sure did,” I tell her, then wrap her long braid around my hand and pull her back, then kiss her sweet lips. “Contracts, baby.”
“We have that rule, Owen.”
“That we do. Sorry, Roger. But we don’t sign contracts. Not anymore.”
“Well, we can’t possibly do this without contracts, Owen. You’re not new to this business. You know how things work.”
“I do know how they work,” I say, as Petra smiles at me.
“And I’m sick of how they work. Go find yourself another couple to spy on. We’re not about to put our dreams aside for you to make money off our lives. Not only is it not worth it, but it’s pretty damn disturbing that anyone wants to pry that deeply into our marriage. Bye, Roger.”
“Owen, wait! I can triple those numbers.”
“I bet you can. Lose my number, Roger.” I end the call and put the phone down, then take my wife in my arms and hold her tight. “Did I answer the man the way you wanted?”
She nods. “You did. You stayed true to what you want and let the money and fame go. Do you feel happy about that decision?”
“Petra Cantrell, since the day I married you I’ve felt nothing but happiness. I want to make a difference in this world. And not by teaching people things that should be kept private.”
Picking her up, I take her inside. I place her feet on the floor and untie the bikini strings. The top falls to the floor. Then I shimmy the bottoms off her, and she stands in front of me. My beautiful wife stands still and lets me look her over.
My hand moves over her flat stomach, and I look at her. “Can you believe we’re actually doing this? Trying to have us a baby? Are we nuts?”
“No, just normal,” she says, as she puts her hand over mine. “What married couple doesn’t want to see the people they create? I mean, how cool is it to look at another human and see your features all mixed up with the person’s you love? Nothing is cooler than that.”
“There’s still that fear that we’ll fuck them up. You know, how our parents did us.”
Her eyes narrow, and I think about what I said, but I don’t get a chance to apologize as she says, “You listen to me, Dr. Cantrell. Your parents made mistakes, but you turned out amazing. My mother made mistakes too, but I did just fine on my own.”
“You signed up to be sold to the highest bidder, Petra. That’s an epic fail.”
She moves to lie on the bed and nods at me to lose my swimming trunks. I do as she’s so eloquently asked and move to lie next to her, stroking her stomach as I look down at her.
“What I did wasn’t an epic fail. Against all odds, I found a man who needed me just as much as I needed him, even though neither of us knew we needed anyone. I think that’s an epic win, not fail. Now, do you want to think about that a little bit more before you go saying things out loud?”
Doctor's Demands: A Submissives’ Secrets Novel Page 17
