by Maren Smith
“Good enough,” he’d declared, but she stubbornly persisted through every awful shuddering second until her minute was done. Tammi Lou, after all, had had to endure far worse. She was getting off lightly, and Rylee knew it.
And finally, Walker held her in the quiet of her own bedroom, with the last of her tears still drying on her face and that awful taste in her mouth, even after she’d brushed her teeth and her tongue. She fell asleep on her stomach with Walker’s hand holding hers and his other on her bottom, rubbing softly to soothe away the ache. The only problem was, sometime between falling asleep and opening her eyes to find the sun creeping up over the windowsill the next morning, Walker had taken his hand out of hers and gone.
She was alone.
So much for her date with a dom. It hadn’t gone anything like she’d hoped it would.
Chapter Seven
It was the fourth weekend of the month, and the CCC party was in full swing as usual. The lights were low, the music was thumping. Half the submissives there were wandering around in their skimpies, the other half were playing, and as per her usual, Rylee wasn’t part of either sect.
Big, beautiful Emily was up on the cross with her new beau, Scott. Jasmine was in the kitty cage, with her sister-sub Rebecca lying on top, receiving a baby oil massage from their shared dom, Matt. Blake was here, so was Declan. Rumor was Theo had left town and Rylee was starting to wonder if Walker had gone with him, because so far tonight there had been no sign of him. But then, the night was young. It also wasn’t Walker’s habit to arrive before nine.
Almost against her will, Rylee checked the clock and immediately had to squash that rising urge to just get up and leave. It had been two weeks since that devastating Date-A-Dom business had concluded. Two weeks in which she hadn’t heard so much as a ‘hi’ from Walker. Despite everything that had happened, despite all his smiles and all his hugs, and all that rocking and holding and his ‘princess’ endearments, he could not have told her any more clearly exactly what he considered to be the nature of their new relationship: They’d had a night together because she’d paid for it. She’d been the winning bidder of a charity auction; that didn’t make them friends any more than his fucking her made them lovers. It didn’t make them anything more than what they had been before, which was nodding acquaintances at best and at worst, two members of the same BDSM group who didn’t even flow in the same circles.
Not that Rylee flowed in anybody’s circle. Rylee held up a wall, that was her job and she was doing it now. She had banished herself into a chair in a corner where she could see everyone in the room, all their comings and their goings, and where the shadows were the darkest, so nobody would notice her. She could even see around the corner where Miranda was dangling from the hoist, her Shibari-loving husband, Rick, tying her up in practice knots.
The point was, she didn’t have a right to feel angry because he hadn’t communicated with her. She didn’t have a right to feel like she’d just lost her best friend, either. One had to gain a friend in order to lose him, and that wasn’t what Walker was. He was just a dom, a fellow member of the same adult club. The minute he arrived, he was going to take one look at her, probably smile, maybe wave, and then he’d be inundated with submissives vying for a spot on his damn dance card. And here she would sit, trying to tell herself that she was grateful for what time she’d received. Damned grateful. At least he’d taken care of the guilt. Also, she got to experience what a spanking was like. A real one, which hadn’t been at all fun, but a girl couldn’t have everything.
A sudden commotion at the red velvet curtains that separated the main dungeon from the changing area caught Rylee’s attention. A submissive in transparent black lingerie ducked through the curtain and Tammi Lou, seated on the first chair just inside the curtain, jumped up to follow her.
This was it. Walker was here. He had to be. Tammi Lou wouldn’t jump up like that for anybody else, and the sudden shock of sparking awareness that ripped down Rylee’s spine was every bit as bad now as the guilt had been two weeks ago.
Don’t look at him. Rylee tried not to, but her eyes were drawn. So was her heart. This stupid infatuation was even worse now. Once upon a time, she’d have given her left breast for a chance to play with Walker. Now that she knew what his strong hands and arms were capable of, the roughness, the harshness, and the gentleness, seeing him walk into the space with his play bag slung over his broad shoulders and all his little groupie submissives following at his heels, flirting and simpering and batting their eyes at him—it didn’t just fill her with longing anymore. It hit her like a slap.
Rylee turned her face away so she wouldn’t have to see it when he came through the curtain. She closed her eyes, too, breathing in deeply. Slow and deep. Slow and steady. You can do this.
“Hey there, princess,” Walker said, flopping down to sit in the chair beside her. His shoulder bumped hers and his elbow took ownership over both their armrests as he leaned back, stretching out his long legs and crossing his ankles. “Man, it’s been a long day. How are you doing tonight?”
And just like that, Rylee was spitting mad. She swallowed it back, rolling her lips together and clenching her jaw so she wouldn’t be tempted to explode all over him, right here where everyone would hear them.
Arching an eyebrow, Walker said, “I guess you didn’t hear me. I said, how have you been?”
“Fine,” she said, short and tight, hardly moving her jaw.
“It’s been two weeks,” he noted.
She’d noticed. “You didn’t call.”
“No, I didn’t,” he cheerfully agreed. “You didn’t call, either.”
“I was trying not to be a stalker,” she snapped and glared at him.
Walker laughed. “I see. Well, I was trying not to be a manipulative prick. You know, the kind that takes advantage of a submissive in a moment of emotional fragility?”
Like a rock hitting a windshield, the insecurities inside her began to crackle and spread. She wanted to laugh right back at him, but her too-tight throat wouldn’t let her. “Ha,” she choked, pretending she couldn’t hear her own voice breaking. It was all she could do to keep her voice at a whisper so she wouldn’t attract the unwanted attention of anyone around them. “You didn’t call because you didn’t remember me. Just like you don’t remember me from before the auction, despite attending almost all the same parties for the last year! Just like you don’t remember me from high school!”
Eyebrows quirking, Walker stared at her for almost a full heartbeat before sitting bolt upright, hands braced on his knees as he leaned all the way into her. He came so close that their noses almost touched. All she could see was the seriousness in his stare as he, very softly and ominously, replied, “Rylee, it wasn’t that I don’t remember seeing you before the auction. You never asked, and I don’t chase. I don’t chase because that’s how dominants overwhelm and take advantage of submissives who aren’t yet ready. I am not a predator; I protect.”
Unwilling to be placated, Rylee squared her shoulders and tipped her chin, but it threw her off balance when he only leaned in closer. She bumped the back of her chair just to keep what spare few inches he was trying to remove as a safe buffer between them. She had no idea how any man could look so calm and yet so dangerous, all at the same time.
“As for high school,” he continued, “I’ll be shocked if I can remember thirty of the six hundred kids I went to class with. I was too busy trying to avoid getting beaten up by Freddy Tufaro, starting in the ninth grade, when I accidentally dumped my lunch in his lap, to the twelfth, when I finally just broke his nose. I almost got expelled, but at least the torment ended. High school pretty much sucked for me. So if you held the door for me and I didn’t say thank you, or if you said hello to me and I didn’t hear you, I’m sorry. But if you sat in a corner somewhere, trying but failing to work up the courage to come talk to me, then I’m sorry, princess, but I am not taking responsibility for that.”
As much as she wanted to ho
ld onto her anger, when he said it that way, that actually did mollify her.
Tipping his head, the storming temper in his gray eyes was already waning as he said, “As for the last couple of weeks, it wasn’t that I didn’t remember you. It was more like I couldn’t forget you. You were with me every minute I was awake, and when I was sleeping…” He shook his head. “Well, you were with me then, too. I’ve been trying to give you space, damn it. Enough time to figure out what you feel and how you want to proceed.”
As if there was anything for them to ‘proceed’ to. She wasn’t just stupid, she was pathetic. Her irrational anger deflated just as fast as it had grown, leaving her wallowing in a quicksand of fast-rising tears. As if she hadn’t done enough crying in the last few weeks to last her a lifetime.
“We don’t need to proceed,” she said thickly. “You fulfilled your obligation to me. You don’t have to do anything more.”
“The hell I don’t. We have a date, you and I.”
Startled, she stared at him again. “No, we don’t.”
“We do,” he argued, settling back in his chair. Squaring his shoulders, he made himself smile. “You paid two thousand dollars for a date with a dom. Something fun and ungoverned over by guilty feelings. Now that that other business is out of the way, I think we have earned our night of kinky fun. I was thinking next Friday, you and me out on the lake. We’ll have a couple beers, I’ll grill a couple steaks, and then I’ll take you down into the dungeon so we can do some of that fun stuff you’ve been looking forward to experiencing.” Tipping his head, his tone dropped to a whisper that sent every prickling nerve in her body to shivering as he said, “Lots and lots of sexy spankings, I promise.”
Her whole body blushed.
Grinning, Walker winked. “Unless, of course… you’d rather not wait for Friday. In which case…” He held out his hand, palm up, fingers extended in silent invitation. “It is a party night, after all.”
Heat rolled through her in waves, localizing quickly in the points of her tightening nipples and centering between her legs, where the heady throb of her own heartbeat had begun to pulse. Rylee tried to laugh, but it came out sounding breathless and flat. “Don’t be mean.”
“I’m not being mean,” he countered, his smile gone. “I’m being serious.”
“I’d have thought your dance card full the minute you walked through the door.” The minute those words were out, she hated herself to pointing that out.
“Yeah, well.” Walker ducked his head, and for a moment she could’ve sworn some of his own confidence faded and a tickle of vulnerability peeked out from underneath. “There’s only one dance I’m interested in having tonight. My dance card, as you call it, is wide open.”
Her gaze shot past him and for the first time she noticed Tammi Lou standing just behind the heavy red velvet curtain, two fingers parting it far enough for the light behind her to illuminate her sulky scowl.
He was being serious. Wide eyes snapping back to Walker, Rylee stammered, “Really?”
“You’re not the only one who needed a couple of weeks to figure out how to proceed.” His smoke-gray eyes found hers. “I didn’t know I was going to like being with you as much as I did that night. I also didn’t know I was going to miss talking to you as much as I have pretty much every night since.” Her heart fumbled a beat as he confessed, “I think we might have something and if you agree, then I think I’d like the chance to see where our ‘something’ might actually go.”
Her full-body blush burned hotter, scorching her from the inside out. She was going to catch fire; she was certain of it and all she could do was sit there like an idiot, staring back at him and stammering, “Stop being mean.”
“Rylee Mercer,” he said, calm and quiet, with flecks of utter seriousness hardening his eyes. “I will never, ever do anything ‘mean’ to you, and that’s a promise. But if you say that to me again, I’m going to revoke your right to a safeword and things are going to get very real again. Do you get what I’m telling you?”
He was telling her he was going to spank her in a way she wasn’t going to like again. Her stomach dropped and her bottom crawled, but her pussy only throbbed hotter. “I-I don’t think anyone’s said anything so romantic to me in all my life.”
Whether it was her wondering tone or the sentiment itself, Walker threw back his head. He didn’t laugh, but he did erupt with a grin. “Get to know me better and I promise, I’ll be all kinds of romantic all over you.”
Jesus, what was wrong with her? Nobody had ever said anything that romantic before either. She covered her mouth with her hand so she wouldn’t do something stupid, like cry. “Yes,” she choked, her throat tightening beyond her ability to speak. “I think I want that, too.”
This time when he held out his hand, she took it. But instead of pulling her up out of her chair, he pulled her up and into his lap. She lost it. Covering her mouth with both hands, she buried her face into his shoulder and tried to keep her tears as quiet as she could.
Wrapping his arms around her, smiling, Walker held her.
The End
Light Me Up
By
Raisa Greywood
Chapter One
“You want me to go where?”
Selene Alexiou stared at her partner, Rick Jensen, across the cluttered expanse of her desk as she nursed her first cup of coffee. She had to work hard to keep her composure. Big Banks, Montana was the absolute last place she wanted to go.
Glowering at her, Rick asked, “Is there a problem with the location? This is your project, and I’m busy with my own.”
Shaking her head, she forced a smile. “It’s fine. I’m just not thrilled about Montana in April. They get more snow than we do.” There was no way in hell she was going to tell Rick the real reason she didn’t want to go to Montana. Big Banks, Montana meant Theo Papadakis, the last man in the world she wanted to see.
Rick grimaced. “Yeah. And don’t worry about the flight. The client’s sending a private plane. I guess the airport’s a little remote. It’s supposed to pick you up at Midway in a few hours.”
“Way to give a girl a little notice.” She shut down her laptop and gathered her files. “I’ll text you when I land, but email me anything else I should know. I’m taking the rest of the week off.”
“Hey! We have other projects going on!”
Scowling, she said, “I haven’t had a vacation in two years, but you went to Europe last spring, right? And you’ll be on family leave after Meghan makes you a proud papa.”
He held up his hands in defeat and gave her a sheepish grin. “You win, but in my defense, that was my honeymoon.” He dropped a stack of paper on her desk. “Here’s the flight information.”
“I’ll think of you when I’m lying on a beach in Mexico.” Selene tried to keep the irritation out of her voice as she put on her coat. The unwanted trip wasn’t Rick’s fault.
As Rick walked toward her office door, he said, “Just don’t let some smooth-talking stud take you away from us. This place would fall apart without you.”
“No chance of that,” she muttered. Rick was already gone and didn’t hear her irritable remark.
* * *
She had way too much time to think during the five-hour flight to the middle of nowhere. A few years older than her, Theo Papadakis had been the big kid who had earned her schoolgirl adoration when he’d beaten the crap out of her brother Hector for picking on her braces back in the fourth grade. Not that she’d ever let him or anyone else know about her crush.
Despite not having seen him for years, her father and Theo’s mother had thought it was a good idea to set them up for a lunch date almost a year ago. Their respective parents had grown up in the same Greektown neighborhood.
It seemed that Theo had moved halfway across the country to avoid the small commitment. A fucking lunch date, but he’d brushed her off with a humiliating message left with one of his sisters. Thanks to the well-fertilized Greektown grapevine, the mess
age had made its way all over the neighborhood before it reached her.
Was the thought of dating her so horrible? Maybe. She hadn’t exactly been looking forward to the date herself, understanding the pressure their families would place on them. Most days she wondered if any family tree in Greektown had forking branches.
She looked out the window at flyover territory as she pondered what it was about Theo that made an otherwise capable, intelligent woman turn into a whiny adolescent. Why did she care so damned much what he thought? She was better than this.
Her trip to Big Banks was unavoidable, but the meeting would be quick, and she had no reason to linger. Even if she saw Theo in passing, he wouldn’t recognize her. She’d had surgery to correct her vision, her teeth were straight and perfect, and she’d learned how to use a flat iron on her bushy hair. The ugly duckling dressed in her cousin Lida’s castoffs had turned into a swan.
To her surprise, the pilot doubled as a chauffeur and drove her into town. After thanking the pilot for the smooth flight and the lift, Selene managed to complete her meeting in just a few hours. She kept a professional smile as she shook her client’s hand. They could have used videoconferencing to deal with his questions without dragging her to the ass end of nowhere.
She typed a quick follow-up message to Rick, then walked down the street in search of a coffee shop, her wheeled suitcase in tow. She didn’t have much; a few bikinis, shorts and t-shirts, and one little black evening dress, just in case. She was wearing the only warm things she’d brought; a wool suit with a pencil skirt hitting her just above the knee and a pair of sexy, heeled boots. It would be at least an hour before the pilot could take her to Missoula to catch a flight to Mexico.
