A couple of doors were closed along the corridor of private suites on the upper floor but most were propped open for custodial staff. Lizette made her way to the large room she’d used the day before, deciding to wait until she’d released a little tension before approaching Mildred. Once she cleared her head, she could focus on how to frame the questions she had running in circles through her mind.
Starting with the shorter whip, she worked through the positions Mildred taught her, changing hands after each set to ensure equal time for both shoulders and arms. The shifts and contractions of her muscles reminded her of the early days of her stint in the Navy. Hardest time in her life, but it made her strong and paid for her education.
Switching to the longer whip, she started at the beginning and worked her way through the different movements again, the crack bouncing around the room. The click of a door opening caught her in mid-swing but didn’t interrupt the stroke. When the leather dropped to the floor, she turned to see who’d tracked her down.
Mildred.
“Good. How do you feel?”
Lizette pulled air into her lungs and stretched her back muscles, smiling at the older Mistress. “I feel great. A little sore, but I like it. I feel alive.”
The woman’s nod and the little smile she flashed in one brief minute spoke volumes about her experiences in the clubs. Between the life Mildred led and her connection to Gran, Liz felt like she’d found a kindred spirit. “I’m glad you came in. I was hoping to find you when I finished here.”
“I heard the crack of the whip and had to leave the office. An excuse, since Mark and Derek are...discussing an issue and I prefer not to participate.”
“Before getting pulled into their argument? Wise of you.”
“Yes, well. What questions do you have?”
Lizette couldn’t help but smile at the sweet British accent and the tough as nails Domme eager to help her. She pulled out a couple chairs and sat, waving a hand at the other for Mildred. “It’s more of a personal question. I hope you don’t mind, but I really don’t have anyone to ask about this.”
“I’d be honored to help you in any way Georgia would.”
“Thank you.” She fought the urge to squirm in her chair. “I, ah, I had sex with Jake last night.”
Silence thick enough to require a shovel to find the door blanketed the room while she waited for Mildred’s comment. Time stretched until she forced her head up and looked at her pseudo grandmother.
The damn woman looked...bemused.
“Surely, it wasn’t your first time?”
Heat tingled across her cheeks but Liz resurrected her sense of humor, barking a laugh and pushing Mildred to laugh with her. “No, he wasn’t my first sex, but it was plain old vanilla sex.”
“And you were disappointed when he didn’t let you dominate him? That’s not unusual, and I assume you’ll persuade him next time.”
“I don’t know if I want to.”
“Ah.” Mildred, with all her grace and finesse, nodded and leaned back into her chair.
Where she waited.
“I can’t explain it, Mildred.” Air filled her lungs from a slow pull then exited in a rush. “I’ve known since I was twelve that I was more dominant than passive or submissive, maybe because of Gran or maybe from genetics. I don’t know. I just know it’s who I am.”
“There’s nothing wrong with enjoying both worlds. A steady diet of one type of food isn’t healthy and few people would enjoy the monotony.”
“But—”
One wrinkled hand rose to stop her tongue. “Lizette, don’t take yourself to task about this. Jake’s quite the young man, but he’s ambivalent to the lifestyle, from what I remember of him.”
“What would you suggest I do to, um, change his mind?” A picture sprang to mind, Jake on his knees with her collar around his neck, hers for the taking.
Mildred’s chuckle interrupted the fantasy.
“Oh, dearie, I don’t think it’s possible to change a man’s character once he’s an adult. Jefferson is a force all his own.”
“Jefferson?”
“Yes. He was born to quite an interesting family. His father is Jefferson Alexander Wortham, Jr.”
“Sounds vaguely familiar.”
“It should. I don’t know the particulars, but he comes from an affluent line of American businessmen.” Mildred’s fingers tapped at her knee and Lizette lifted her head to meet the other woman’s eyes. “You like him, don’t you?”
“Yes. Unfortunate, but true. There’s something about him, something drawing me in.” She let a little air out of her tight chest. “There’s just something about a man with an attitude and a voice made to melt butter.” She shook her head. “Do you think he’d ever submit?”
“I doubt it, dear. Men aren’t good at change.” Mildred got to her feet and brushed a mystical piece of lint from her skirt. “Will you let him lead?”
After a long minute’s thought Lizette gave her new fairy godmother the only possible answer. “Hell, no, but I can still play with him for a while, can’t I?”
Chapter 9
Chicken.
It wasn’t a feeling she enjoyed.
He’d called around noon with a suggestion of dinner. Code for dinner and whatever she deigned to give him afterward, of course. While it sounded good and she had a great bag of tricks guaranteed to drive a man wild, she was skittish.
He didn’t want her bag of games and goodies. He wanted her.
A scary proposition, and he had no idea how flummoxed she was at the concept.
Her car was sitting in the parking lot of the restaurant he’d suggested, a nice cozy bistro with good food and desserts to die for. Mood lighting. Somewhat private booths.
She was still in the car, had been for at least an hour. He hadn’t seen her car when he walked through the lot and went inside, probably had his mind on other things, like how long dinner would last and when they could get to the good stuff.
Ha. Good stuff came in a variety of packages and the thought of choosing made her hands shake. Dammit, she was edging too far out of her comfort zone for this man and she didn’t like it one bit.
But she did like Jake.
Unable to deny it and irritated by her stupid procrastination, she popped the locks and put her feet on the pavement. Her gentleman friend was at the bar, watching the door when she entered. He met her halfway and the hostess took them to a table with a view of a small patio.
“Busy day?” he asked, watching her over the menus.
“I had a session with Mildred.”
His grin lit the space between them. “A session with Mildred? I’m afraid to ask why.”
“Hey, be nice. She likes you.”
“And I adore her, but she’s a little intense. Her favorite pastime when I’m around is harassing me.”
Lizette pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. Didn’t work. Not when Jake was the picture of mischief, the corners of his eyes wrinkling and mirth reflecting in them. Damn his sense of humor. It drew her in without even trying.
She hadn’t told him about Gran’s whip and the lessons. This might be a good time to discuss her dominance and what she’d like to expect from him. Mildred’s words slipped into the image of Jake submitting and Lizette had a sinking feeling that her new mentor knew what she was talking about.
What the hell. Mark had made it clear to Jake when they were introduced that she was a Domme. Sink or swim time.
“I’m learning to use a whip.”
“Mildred is counseling you on how to use a whip? Interesting. How did this come up in conversation with the grand lady?”
The waiter interrupted, giving her a minute to find the perfect words to convince him. Comfort zone be damned, she wanted him in her bed on her terms. This situation was so much easier to navigate within the club. Two people meet, exchange information as far as likes, preferences, and hard limits, and set a date to try the other person out before making a commitment. Outside the lif
estyle, there were too many variables to manage.
The waiter took the menus away and Lizette slipped her napkin into her lap and used both hands to press her heels to the floor, the constant twitch of nervous energy abrading what little self-control she’d stockpiled in the car.
“Tell me about this whip.”
“I’ve been cleaning out my grandmother’s closets and donating or throwing away most of it.”
Jake’s furrowed brow made her stop and regroup.
“She raised me, was the only stable part of my childhood, and she died two years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” A quick sip of water pushed the bubble in her throat out of the way. Time had passed enough for sympathy, but his words still warmed her. “Anyway, last week I was emptying the last closet and I found a big box pushed deep into the back of the closet. Inside was a six foot bullwhip and a pair of black boots. My grandmother’s.”
The grin he flashed was infectious and made her laugh. “Right, my Gran? I was surprised at first, but it made sense. She and Grandpa were amazing together and when he died, Gran put a large part of her life away for good.”
“You didn’t know she was part of that lifestyle?”
She shook her head. “I was too young when he died, and after...well, I was focused on school and then, the military. Gran never seemed to want to talk about Grandpa. I think she grieved for a long time.”
Dinner arrived. Once the server left, he asked, “Where does Mildred fit into this picture?”
“She’s teaching me how to use the whip without hurting myself or others.”
His head slanted to one shoulder and that furrow reappeared between his brows. His thinking pose, and she pushed her stop button, hesitant to reveal too much of herself. Some secrets needed to stay buried and he already knew more about her than any other man in her life. One helluva scary thought.
Time to change the focus.
“Mildred is a Domme, has been since she was a teenager.”
Jake flopped back in his chair, one side of his mouth lifted at the now clear epiphany. “Well, hell. That clears up a world of questions. I should’ve figured it out long ago.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. I didn’t know until Mark suggested I ask for her help. And I didn’t know Gran was inclined in that way, either.”
“Really? Even after you were an adult?”
“She probably knew I was following family tradition, even though I didn’t know it myself, but she didn’t comment. When I left for the Navy, she reminded me to be a strong woman. I never thought about it, but I guess it was her way of reminding me to be true to myself.”
The conversation lulled while they finished dinner and Liz watched his face, his expression when he looked at her and when his gaze swept the room. With a jolt, she realized he was in the same quandary as she.
“Have you ever been in a relationship without bondage and submission?”
“No.”
Across the table, they watched each other, eyes focused and evaluating every blink, every tweak of expression. Desire and hesitation and pure unadulterated lust hoping to find a way in. Jake broke the silence. “Last night—”
“—was a surprise.” She pulled her napkin up from her lap and pressed it to her mouth, needing to move, to do something other than sit and stare at this beautiful man before her and be forced to walk away from the building sexual tension they both felt.
He must’ve felt the same way, because his face darkened and full lips compressed into a thin line. “Can we make room for compromise?”
“God, I hope so.”
The waiter appeared with their check and the tension eased back into a hearty lust between them. Much easier to deal with and a relief for Lizette. A relaxation of the rules and a little free playtime might help her get a grip on what she wanted with the hot professor.
***
Jake slipped his arm around her waist when they left the restaurant, hoping like hell this was becoming a habit. Dinner followed by sex with Lizette might just prove to be addictive, not that he’d mind. Even with their differences in lifestyle, they managed to get each other into the pleasure zone. Her agreement to find a compromise in lifestyles instead of simply shutting him down gave him hope for the next few months. And after his assignment was complete, maybe they could orchestrate another agreement.
“Are you willing to let me lead tonight?”
He gave her his best Liam-Neeson-dark-and-broody stare but couldn’t keep it on his face when she nudged his hip with hers. “Maybe.”
“That the best you can do, tough guy?” Lizette said, a sweet, familiar laugh on her lips. He wanted those lips and he couldn’t wait. He pulled her into him and dipped his head, appreciating the fact they were so close in height. She was soft, pliant against his mouth, and the kiss created its own heat.
Lizette licked her lips when they parted and the sight sent a bolt of desire through him as they stepped into the street and headed for the parking lot. “I don’t know how it works, honey. I’ve always been in charge.”
Another laugh, this one deep with a swoop of naughtiness. “So you’re scared, huh? Big guy like you shouldn’t be afraid of a little alternative lifestyle sex.”
“When you put it that way, I have to agree. It’ll still be just you and me?” Alternative lifestyle, huh. “I can be adventurous when motivated.”
“Where did you park?” Lizette asked, digging her key fob out of her bag.
“On the other side of the lot. You?”
“Two rows up.” She hit the button and her car’s lights came on. “Your place or mine?”
A clap of thunder reverberated against the building separating the parking lots and they both turned eyes up to the clear moonlit night.
“Son of a bitch,” Jake spat, grabbing her arm and jerking her around the backside of a large SUV. Another shot took out a car window two slots away from their hiding spot.
“Who the hell is shooting at us?” she said, pulling her pistol out of its holster in the small of her back.
“Stay down. I think he’s in the alley across the street.”
Another flash of light in the darkened alley confirmed it. “Stay low. He’s not very accurate, but he could get lucky,” he said as Lizette leaned around the SUV and got off a couple rounds. “Give me the gun and call your friends at the PD.”
Another volley sounded out across the lot and she returned fire. “Where’s your cell? Call it in while I hold him off.”
Damn headstrong woman didn’t want to listen to reason. He resurrected his tone of authority and pulled her deeper into the flimsy shelter of the oversized truck. “Where’s your backup?” he said, kicking his own ass for being unprepared. This wasn’t how he usually played the game and he put the blame square on his own shoulders. Screwing around with a woman had thrown him off. Way off into dead land. “Hand it over. I know you have a backup piece.”
“I’ve got this.”
“Damn it, Kently, give me a fucking gun.”
Another shot zipped across the street and shattered a window two cars ahead of them. Closer than the last. “Make the call and hold still. I’m not carrying you out of here.”
Lizette was holding her own with the shooter, but they were sitting ducks in the parking lot. Too many security lights set to protect patrons looking for their cars and no place for him to stash her while he took care of whoever wanted him dead.
“Just give me a God damn gun. Surely, you have a backup. Hand it over.”
The look she gave him was nowhere near ladylike. She held it for one long moment before fishing a pistol out of an ankle strap. “I’m not gonna carry you out of here if you shoot off your own foot.”
“Not happening.” He took the gun and shook his head. “It’s a little light. Bullets?”
“Dammit.” She handed over a slim magazine with one of her go-to hard looks, the ones that drove him nuts. “Think you can hit anything with my little pistol?”
&nbs
p; He slid the pieces together with an audible snap and sighted in a shot.
“Be careful,” she told him. “Looks can be deceiving.”
“They sure as hell can.”
More shots flew in their direction, making him think reinforcements had arrived on the other side. Not good. Jake grabbed for her chin and forced her head around so she’d pay attention. “Stay put. Don’t move.”
“Where the hell are you going?” she asked.
“We are leaving.”
Jake lifted the cute little girly pistol and hoped to God Almighty it had a nice range. The first two shots hit human targets, soft impact and no noise. The next five took out the lights on the other side of the street and in the lot they were in.
He spun, grabbed her arm, and made a run for his car before the other team could regroup.
“What the fuck?”
He laughed and let go of her to find the car keys. The run and the adrenaline of the firefight had him psyched. Hadn’t had this much fun in a few years. The locks popped on the rental as they neared and he opened the passenger door and stuffed her inside. When he got in and they were moving away from the scene, he felt a hand land on the bend of his arm.
“Who the hell are you?”
Chapter 10
“Buckle up and call your friends. Somebody needs to clean up that mess and handle the witnesses.” Jake felt her stare and the tension in her body across the small space, but she showed little outward evidence of distress. What a woman. He just might be in love.
Fucking screwed up timetable.
“I don’t want to ask again. Who the hell are you?”
“Call it in first.”
Shocked the hell out of him, but she did as told while he found the highway he knew would take him out into the suburbs around Dallas. He’d checked into a nice hotel on the outskirts of one of Dallas’s orbital cities before his job went hot, a precaution he’d used for years. It never hurt to have a safe place to hide under a different identity. The strategy had saved his life more than once in the last ten years.
“Done. Cops are on their way and dispatch said they’d already heard from the restaurant staff. Tell me.”
Whip Me Up Tie Me Down Page 6
