by Helena Stone
Once again, Jason’s voice brought her out of her thoughts and into the present.
“I’ll leave you to get settled then. Take a few hours to freshen up and rest. I’ll meet you downstairs for dinner at eight, if that’s okay.”
Heather smiled. “I would like that. Thank you for everything.” Heather waved her hand at the luxury surrounding her. “I’ll see you later.”
* * * *
Jason knew the smart thing would be to go back to his office and spend some more time staring at the plans and schedules but found he couldn’t be bothered. He crossed the short hallway and opened the door to his own apartment. Unlike Heather’s rooms, his place took up more than half of the floor and was more palatial than big. He walked straight through his living room to the sliding doors on the far side. Sitting down on one of the loungers on his balcony, he allowed himself to release the big sigh that had been trapped in his chest ever since he’d recognized Heather. He still felt as if someone had dumped a ton of bricks on his head. Not in his wildest dreams had he thought he’d ever meet her again.
Heather. A smile appeared on his face as he remembered the sweet and innocent girl she’d been twenty years ago. The woman who’d just walked into his club couldn’t be mistaken for anything but the grown-up version of that girl, although he’d be hard pressed to call her innocent now. She still had those honey-colored curls tumbling around her head in wild abandon. Her big, almond-shaped eyes had stared into his, filled with a combination of wonder, depth and sadness. Jason shook his head, he had to be imagining things. He didn’t know—had never known—her well enough to recognize those feelings.
She’d certainly grown into her body since he’d last seen her. And she definitely knew how to fill a pair of jeans. Just one look at her arse in those trousers…well, the stirring had been a surprise after all those months without the sensation.
Restless, he got up and stalked up and down the balcony.
He had to stop these thoughts. He was supposed to work with Heather, not fantasize about her. He was a grown man, an experienced Dom, not some drooling teenager getting off on mentally undressing her. Still, what were the chances of meeting her again like this? Surely, such coincidences didn’t happen in real life? His past had just walked into his present and was scheduled to work with him this fortnight. Two weeks during which he could get to know her again, provided he could convince her to stay. As it stood, the plan was for her to be here for a few days and then return before the event started. If he played his hand right though…
No.
He raised his head to the sun, hoping the warmth would sooth his fevered thoughts. What was wrong with him? Just because he hadn’t seen the woman in twenty years didn’t mean he had to lose his mind over her. He might once have said that if he’d ever… He wasn’t going to pursue that line of thought either. For fuck’s sake, she’d lost her husband and partner, who had probably been her Dom as well, not too long ago. Even if she didn’t look like the typical grieving widow, he had no doubt he’d seen pain in her eyes. He had far more pressing problems to deal with right now than a sudden infatuation with a memory. Like how he’d get through that weekend without exposing himself as the fraud he’d turned into. Or how he’d ever find his way back to what had been such an important part of his life for so long.
Even if Heather hadn’t been recently widowed, seducing her would have been a bad idea. There were a few exceptions, but in general, fucking somebody you had to work with only led to unnecessary complications. He had a party to organize, a business to sustain. He needed to keep his eyes on the ball and off his balls, and Heather’s arse, and her beautiful green eyes. He had to stop his mind from creating these images unless he wanted to set himself up for a one-way journey into endless amounts of pain.
Chapter Three
When the alarm on her phone went off, Heather woke up from a sleep much deeper than she’d expected to enjoy. She’d needed that. She hadn’t realized how tired the combination of the drive from Dublin and the shock of meeting Jason again had made her.
It had been a shock and she still wasn’t sure how she felt about Master Jay being Jason. It had been great meeting him again. Of course it had. But it would have been a lot easier if the circumstances had been different. If she didn’t have to work with him. If Darren had been with her.
She got out of bed and walked to the bathroom for a quick shower. Darren…she had no idea if she could do this without him. He’d made her promise she wouldn’t let their business die. He’d even made her promise that one day she’d… No, she wouldn’t allow her thoughts to go there. Continuing their work was one thing, giving herself to someone else?
The unfairness of the whole situation hit her like a slap. Darren would have loved this place. The Blowhole and everything it offered, this apartment, that bed… All of it could have been custom-made for her and Darren. Yet here she was, alone, without the only man she’d ever loved, the only man she’d given herself to body and soul, the only man she could imagine ever submitting to.
The tears streaming down her face were easy enough to ignore. Under the shower they were just more wetness, indistinguishable from the water falling on her head. This was not the way to start her new project. If she couldn’t look at a bed built for bondage, she had no hope of dealing with everything else she would be encountering over the next few weeks. Heather turned her head into the spray and groaned. Maybe she should just leave—take her luggage back down to the lobby, apologize to Jason and go back home. Put the whole thing down to experience and give herself more time.
As tempting as the thought was, she could hear Darren’s voice in the back of her mind. “Pull yourself together, Heather. You’re being silly and you know it. Of course you can do this. Remember your promise. Face those fears and defeat them. Do it for us. Do it for me. But most of all, do it for you.”
She could hear him so clearly. She knew he would want her to stay. He’d tell her to go and familiarize herself with The Blowhole and work out the best possible plan for a spectacular party. He’d expect her to make the anniversary a success then share the details with the world. Knowing Darren—and she knew him so well—he’d even tell her to open herself up to the idea that it might be…
But no. He would have been wrong. She might be able to organize this party, to observe people while they enjoyed everything that would be on offer, but she was nowhere near ready to throw herself back into the game. Not now…maybe not ever. Although… Much as she didn’t like the thought, she couldn’t deny she’d been getting restless lately. Isolating herself wasn’t working anymore. Recently she’d found herself yearning for something she’d rather not name. Her unexpected visitor might have been an unwelcome intrusion, but he had also made her realize her desires and needs weren’t as dead as she’d thought they were.
She had some time left before she had to get ready for dinner with Jason. Determined to stop her mind from bombarding her with more doubts, Heather opened her laptop and had another look at The Blowhole’s website. She’d been studying the information for weeks now, but it didn’t hurt to be as prepared as she could be.
Welcome to ‘The Blowhole’, Ireland’s largest, all inclusive adult playground.
The words adult playground made her smile.
Welcome to a world where people are allowed to be who they are and enjoy whatever their hearts desire without judgment. Whether your tastes are innocent or adventurous, ranging from luxurious vanilla to full-fledged BDSM, ‘The Blowhole’ will provide you with the environment and equipment to fulfill your every fantasy.
Yes, the idea impressed her. She had visited many sex clubs, swingers meetings and BDSM gatherings with Darren. They had organized quite a few of those events. Yet she had never come across a place catering to such a wide variety of customers until now. In theory, the idea sounded inspired. Whether or not it worked in practice remained to be seen and depended on how comfortably all the various tastes could live together. Of course that wouldn’t be an i
ssue as far as the party she’d be organizing was concerned. The event would be exclusively BDSM. In the meantime, it would be interesting to see how Jason had dealt with the risk of alienating vanilla-minded people as a result of the kinkier excesses.
The familiarity of research did the trick. Heather could feel herself relax into the information. When she couldn’t postpone getting ready for dinner any longer, she was almost calm again.
Almost calm. She couldn’t quite put her finger on the source of the apprehension she felt when she thought about having dinner with Jason. It would be nothing more than a business meeting, she thought as she pulled a dress from the wardrobe.
She knew how to conduct herself, what questions to ask, what queries to expect and even most of the answers she’d give to those. She might not have done any of this on her own before but that didn’t mean she wasn’t capable. Of course, she would probably have been completely sure of the way forward if she’d been dealing with anyone other than Jason. She ignored the thought, refusing to linger on what it might mean, just as she wasn’t going to spend too much time thinking about the past.
She glanced at herself in the mirror and decided she would do. She looked nice—not too sexy and not too modest either. With a bit of luck people—Jason—would see a dedicated professional. That’s what she was. She was here to do a job and do it well. Nothing else should matter… Should being the operative word.
* * * *
Jason found himself in the lobby, waiting for Heather, a few minutes before the appointed time. He still couldn’t get over her showing up here. What was more, he couldn’t get his head around his reaction to seeing her again. For twenty years he’d barely spared the girl—no, woman—a thought. And now, ever since she’d walked into his office, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Pictures of that long-ago summer in Wexford surfaced in his mind. The four of them, two couples and six weeks of love, lust and drama. It had been one of the best summers of his life and he’d allowed the memories to slip away. He wondered if maybe it would have been the best summer of his life if he’d spent it with Heather instead of Moira. But Heather back then had been so young, so innocent and too sweet to take advantage of. Moira, on the other hand, had been more than eager to embrace everything he threw at her and to introduce him to concepts he’d never known existed.
The lift doors opened and Jason’s heart skipped a beat, only to settle again when four guests stepped into the lobby.
He looked from the stairs to the elevator again but still saw no sign of the woman who had taken up permanent residence in his mind. He couldn’t get over the irony of the situation. Back then he hadn’t been able to bring himself to be intimate with Heather. Now his imagination was running riot. He would have to find a way to bring himself back to his senses. He had hoped a few hours away from her presence, hours of studying her website and all her suggestions for the party, would help him get used to the idea of having her stay here. They should have cleared his head off any images of him seducing her out of her mourning. Unfortunately his thoughts weren’t cooperating.
Staring at the elevator he became aware of a presence behind him. Turning around, he found her standing on the stairs. This was a Heather he hadn’t seen before. Her hair had been tamed and fell sleekly down her face, coming to rest on her slim shoulders. Without the curls, her face looked longer, less round, more grown-up. Okay, it took her straight from sweet and attractive to sexy and hot.
He still had no control over his thoughts. The red dress she wore showed every inch of her body off to its best advantage, making her look at least as lush as she was in his memories. Those gorgeous, full breasts were allowed to show just enough cleavage to excite. She exuded sexiness without being provocative, although the picture she presented did trigger a few sinful thoughts in Jason’s mind. The dress hugged her curves. The little red number ending just above her knees allowed him to appreciate her shapely legs, elongated by the heels she wore.
As Jason took his time walking toward her, he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. She was beautiful and unless she’d changed a lot over the years, she would be delightful company. Even if he had to restrain his urge to touch her, to bring her to his bed, to play his games with her and, God help him, take her to his dungeon, he could have a good time with her while she was here.
With Heather standing on the second step of the staircase, their eyes were at the same height and Jason took advantage of the opportunity to look straight into her beautiful green irises. His groin tightened when she lowered her gaze for a moment, only to flash it back up and stare right back at him. There it was. Such a small sign. A slight indication that the submissive inside this woman hadn’t died with the man she’d called Sir. He saw the slight blush coloring her cheeks and realized she was as aware of the signal she’d just transmitted as he was. Jason forced that piece of information to the back of his mind as he reached out and took both her small hands into his.
“Heather, you’re a sight for sore eyes.” Unable to help himself, he bent forward and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. Her perfume was light and flowery. The aroma mirrored the way she looked—beautiful, self-assured and subtle.
“And you’re still as imposing as you always were.” Heather’s teasing smile didn’t stop him from treasuring the little shudder he’d felt going through her when his lips had met her cheek.
He needed to deflect his thoughts, keep this meeting light. “Imposing? My dear, you have no idea. If you think I’m imposing now…” He allowed the sentence to die. She’d never see that side of him. It no longer existed, regardless of his reactions to her. Still he couldn’t help wondering if her reaction to him could possibly resemble the thoughts she elicited in his mind.
He stopped himself from pursuing the question. What was wrong with him anyway? She was here to do a job, to help him make a success of this party he’d decided to throw. The doubts he had about this professional partnership were disappearing fast. He wanted their cooperation to be a success—and not just for the sake of his club. He wanted to get to know her again. Scaring her off with hasty advances would make that impossible.
“Do you have everything you need in your apartment?” He started toward the restaurant, holding on to one of Heather’s hands as he went. He noticed when her hand tensed and relaxed again, as if she’d been thinking about pulling back before deciding against it. He would love to be able to read the thoughts running through her head right now but knew better than to ask. As long as he pretended that holding her hand was nothing other than natural and friendly, she might leave it there. He didn’t know why it seemed so important to him, but holding her hand made him feel good. He loved that tiny bit of skin-to-skin contact—all the skin-to-skin he was likely to experience with her. He wasn’t going to spoil it by opening his big mouth.
“I do, Jason. Thank you so much for those amazing rooms. I still can’t believe I have a whole apartment to myself.” Heather’s smile was genuine and relaxed, even if her words sounded rather formal. He wondered whether she found it as difficult as he did to keep things strictly professional. He knew it was unlikely, but couldn’t stop himself from hoping that maybe, somewhere deep inside, Heather felt some of the same attraction.
“Over there is the bar, which is open more or less twenty-four-seven.”
“You allow your clients access to unlimited amounts of alcohol? Isn’t that a recipe for disaster?”
He could see the confusion in Heather’s eyes and understood what lay at the root of it. Alcohol and kink could be a dangerous, in some cases lethal, combination and most clubs had strict rules with regard to drinking.
“It has not been an easy decision and I haven’t made up my mind about the party yet.” He saw the question in her eyes and continued.
“You see, we don’t only cater to lifestylers here. There is no real reason to deny vanilla couples, just because alcohol and BDSM don’t mix.” He sighed, thinking back to the endless to-ing and fro-ing he’d done about the de
cision. “Security keeps an eye on everybody entering the BDSM area and will demand a breathalyzer test if anybody appears to be even slightly intoxicated. So far we’ve managed to avoid any trouble. If that ever changes, the bar policy will be revisited.” Jason pointed to his right. “That there is the games’ room.”
The way she looked up at him left Jason in no doubt about her assumptions and he laughed.
“Different games, Heather. The kink part of my club starts farther down this corridor. In there all you’re going to find are a pool table and table football, as well as a collection of board games.”
He watched her nod her understanding before adding, “Of course, even those everyday games have been known to transform into something more risqué.”
As soon as he said the words, his treacherous mind flashed on Heather in a short dress with a deep V-neck, playing pool. He imagined her bending and stretching to hit the ball while her skirt rode up her legs, and her breasts… He felt his cock stirring in his trousers. He didn’t get it. For months now, playing with beautiful, willing and naked women hadn’t been able to excite him. Yet here he was, picturing Heather in a provocative pose and all his systems were firing.
“Do you play pool, Heather?” The way she blushed made him think she might be able to read his mind.
“I have been known to shoot a few balls, yes.” Heather’s blush deepened and her eyes grew distant for a moment. God, what he wouldn’t give for just a glimpse of the thoughts going through her head.
