by Jasmine Hill
“I think we need a shower,” he announced as Sarah scurried about collecting items of clothing.
She straightened and walked towards him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him lightly on the lips. “Good idea. I think a shower is definitely what we need.”
“Come,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her towards the bathroom.
Chapter Nine
“I can add fantastic pancake-maker to the list of your various talents,” Maxwell commented in appreciation.
“Well, I was surprised that your galley was so well stocked. I guess I expected some stale bread and a few crackers,” she grinned.
He leant forward and tweaked her nose playfully. “The galley is always stocked with basic supplies. When I knew we were coming out I ensured that we had everything we would need.”
Sarah looked out over the glistening harbour and had to admit to herself that at the moment life couldn’t get any better. She glanced at Maxwell and acknowledged again with surprise his blatant attraction. He was dressed in faded cargo shorts and a rather form-fitting T-shirt that she guessed was an old favourite that his muscles had long since outgrown, as they were now deliciously contoured through the soft fabric.
“What are you thinking?” he asked her.
She flushed as if he could read her thoughts. “I’m just thinking what a lovely day it is and how I feel like I could stay out here forever,” she responded with a contented sigh.
“The day is not the only thing that is lovely,” he stated, giving her body an appreciative leer.
She giggled then asked him when Sam was due to return. He glanced at his watch. “He should be here in about an hour, which should have us back at my place by about three. Is that okay? Is there somewhere you need to be?”
“Three will be fine. I just need time to get back to my apartment and get ready for work. Do you have time to drive me home?”
She was staring lazily at the Sunday harbour action and when Maxwell didn’t respond she turned to look at him. He was staring at her in disbelief, a look of ill-disguised anger crossing his features.
“What’s the problem?” she asked, although she thought she knew exactly what the problem was.
He leaned towards her and rested his arms on the table. “You intend on going back to work after I have told you my feelings about what you do?” His voice was dangerously low and she cringed inwardly as she anticipated the conversation they were about to have.
“Maxwell, I didn’t realise that you expect me to give up my job. I haven’t decided to do that.”
“I don’t like you flaunting yourself half naked in front of half a dozen men every night. Anything could happen. It wouldn’t take much for one of them to get carried away!”
“For heaven’s sake, Maxwell, I have been doing this for a few years now and it’s totally safe. All the clients are interviewed and vetted and I wouldn’t agree that I am half naked. What I wear to work is expected of a Dominatrix.”
“I have a very good picture in my mind of what you wear to work,” he scoffed, “and it’s about as far from a suit and sensible shoes as is possible.”
Sarah couldn’t believe it, she was dumbfounded. “Maxwell, think about what you just said! What makes a suit and sensible shoes the only appropriate work attire, for goodness’ sake? This isn’t the 1950s!”
“I’m talking about an extreme, Sarah. You can’t convince me that tight, barely-there corsets and thigh-high boots are the current workplace fashion.”
“Well, if that is your only concern then I don’t mind adjusting some of my outfits…”
He cut her off with a fierce shake of his head and an icy stare. “It’s not just what you wear, or, more to the point, what you don’t wear. It’s about all those sexual deviants slobbering over you and expecting you to fulfil their indecent fantasies!”
“Despite what you might think, my clients are not sexual deviants! They are polite, respectful gentlemen who happen to desire something that they can’t necessarily get at home. Don’t knock what you don’t understand,” she stated vehemently.
“No matter how you paint it, it is what is it—you help men get off!” he growled at her.
She glared at him icily. She realised that this conversation was going nowhere fast. Anger was emanating from him in waves and her anger was just as fierce. She decided to try another approach.
“It might surprise you to learn that I get paid very well for what I do. Now you expect me to cut off my source of income without a second thought?”
“I have no doubt people pay you very well for your services, my sweet,” he murmured. “In fact, I remember well what I paid and I must admit, one glance at your cleavage and those long legs made it well worth the sum. There are other professions, Sarah, that don’t require you pandering to men’s bizarre fetishes. Hell, I can keep you. I earn more than enough money for the pair of us, you won’t want for anything.”
Sarah stared at him in astonishment. This was beyond the pale. She struggled to respond to his last statement, which was so wrong on so many levels.
“Maxwell, firstly it is my decision as to my preferred profession—nobody else’s. Secondly, what are you suggesting—that I become a kept woman? Do you expect a roast and a foot massage to be waiting for you after a hard day at the office?”
“Of course I wasn’t suggesting that!” he bit out. “I was merely trying to tell you that I could support you while you decide what you want to do.”
“Maxwell, how can you promise that? What if things between us don’t work out? What you are expecting from me is unfair and unreasonable.”
“Well, there we have it, Sarah—a stalemate. I will not be able to tolerate you continuing in your”—he waved a hand in the air—“occupation. Every evening that you are working I would be worrying about you and your clients. I know that it would make me uncomfortable. Hell, I know it would be unbearable for me and you are obviously not willing to give it up so…” His voice trailed off, not needing to finish the sentence.
Sam arrived and quietly went about preparing the boat to get underway.
“There is another issue,” he said softly. “It shouldn’t matter, but unfortunately it does. I am a respected businessman. If the media were to discover that my girlfriend was a Dominatrix there would be hell to pay—for both of us. Your secret wouldn’t be safe for much longer.”
She was unprepared for the pang those last words left in her chest. She should have thought about the issue of his image. She should not really be surprised but unbelievably she hadn’t even considered it and, of course, it had the potential to hurt the both of them.
Well, that was it. They were over before they had really begun.
Chapter Ten
The trip back to Maxwell’s house and the subsequent drive home had been uncomfortably awkward. Neither one of them had attempted any conversation. What else was there to say?
It had been six days since the fateful boat expedition and their subsequent break-up. Six sad, lonely days in which Sarah was forced to admit that she really missed him and she was hurting.
As she rehashed their argument she had to concede that Maxwell had a point. She totally understood his position where his image was concerned and the fact that her position could also be exposed. The reality of it hurt but it would be unfair of her not to appreciate that point. Another fact was that since her argument with Maxwell she took no pleasure in her work and in truth it had become more of a chore, something to be over and done with quickly, which she knew to be unfair to her clients. She needed a friendly shoulder to cry on and had called Roxy.
The security system trilled and she buzzed her friend in. Roxy arrived at the door bearing a box of chocolates and a bottle of wine.
“Girlfriend emergency kit,” she said in greeting, holding up the chocolates and wine.
Sarah smiled and hugged her friend gratefully. “Oh, Rox, what would I do without you?” she said tearfully. “I really need a friend right now.”
<
br /> “Well, that’s what friends are for. Get some glasses and a corkscrew.”
They settled themselves in the living room and Roxy poured the wine while Sarah opened the box of chocolates.
“Tell me what happened,” Roxy demanded, passing Sarah a glass of wine.
“Well, as you know, Maxwell was aware that I work at Fantasy.”
Roxy held a hand in the air. “Before you say anything else I have to apologise, Sar. I told him. He kept badgering me about you and asking me where you worked. I know I promised to keep it a secret but I thought that if he knew, how he reacted would be an indication of his true character. If he was disgusted he wouldn’t pursue you and there would be no great loss but if he didn’t have an issue and he still wanted to get to know you then great. There was method in my madness, Sar, and I know Maxwell well enough to know that he would have kept your secret. Also, he played dirty—he plied me with champagne and hit when my defences were down.”
“He did tell me that you were under the influence of bubbles when you spilled the beans.”
“I didn’t tell him where you worked, though. I figured he didn’t need that much information.”
“Well, he found out and made an appointment with Mistress Kitty.”
Roxy gasped and spluttered on a mouthful of wine. “He did what?”
“His first appointment as Mr X was the night before his party. As you know, we all wear masks and he wore a half-head mask so I had no idea it was him. I must admit I was pretty impressed with this hot, sexy, shirtless Adonis I was confronted with when I entered the dungeon for the first time! He played games, tried to turn the tables on me—had fun dominating the Dominatrix and making suggestive comments to see how I would react. The second time was the night before we broke up—same story.”
“So what’s the problem?” Roxy asked.
“What isn’t the problem?” Sarah sighed. “I was furious that he deceived me. He was angry that I hadn’t confided in him and lied about what I did. He has decided that he doesn’t like that I am a Dominatrix. He said that he would be worrying about me all the time and he hates thinking about me with clients.”
“I can’t believe he made an appointment with you—I guess he was more interested in you than I initially assumed. Now I think about it, I can imagine that the prospect of experiencing you as a Dominatrix was just too tempting for a guy like Max to pass up.”
“Yes, well, obviously,” Sarah responded dryly. “He expected me to just stop my work at Fantasy and even offered to keep me financially while I decided what else I wanted to do. Can you believe that?”
“Well, the man can afford to, there is no doubt about that, but it is a little odd. I have to concede, though, Sar, not many men would be happy to have their girlfriend operating as a Dominatrix. I don’t think his feelings in that regard are totally unreasonable.”
“You’re right but it was the arrogant way he went about things, just expecting that I give it up immediately, no questions asked, no discussion then offering to keep me as if we were back in the 1950s!”
“Was that the only issue?”
Sarah sighed. “No, he was also concerned about his reputation. He worried that if the media discovered his girlfriend was a Dominatrix it would adversely affect his image and mine as well.”
“Well, again, Sar, I have to agree with him. He can’t afford to have any negative publicity, particularly anything that could be harmful to his company, and just think how hard you have worked to keep that part of your life private. I’m sure that you wouldn’t want people finding out so publicly, which would be a strong possibility if you were to continue to see Max.”
“I know. He is right to be concerned. He has a responsibility to his employees and I can’t fault him for that. It was just that I felt that my profession shouldn’t have an impact on anyone but me, and it was a shock when I realised that what I do could affect Maxwell. I guess I was surprised and a little ashamed at my lack of appreciation of that. I have to admit that I hadn’t taken Maxwell’s position into account—I was too busy feeling self-righteous about my personal choices.”
“What you do in your private life shouldn’t matter but you know how judgemental people can be. So what are you going to do?”
“I really miss him, Rox. I think I’m falling for him in a big way.”
“Well, you have a decision to make, Sarah, and after what you just said, it should be an easy one.”
“You’re right again, Rox, I do have a decision to make.”
* * * *
“Earth to Max.”
“I’m sorry, Reg. What did you say?”
“I asked you whether you were happy for us to release the latest software upgrade.”
“Yes. Prepare it for release and send through all the relevant paperwork. If there is nothing else I think we can wrap up.”
Max called the meeting to a close and was once again alone in his office. He turned his chair to stare out of his window at the city below. He had been preoccupied all week with thoughts of Sarah. His mind was wandering during meetings and he knew his colleagues and employees would be wondering why he suddenly couldn’t keep his mind on the job at hand. He’d thought that he would be able to forget her and move on, but it had been nearly a week since they had parted and he was forced to admit that forgetting her was not as easy as he had at first anticipated.
He felt that he was justified in his argument against her occupation—hell, some men might get off on the thought of their girlfriend fulfilling other men’s fantasies for a living but he definitely wasn’t one of them. He knew that being a Dominatrix was just one aspect of what she did. Some men had some really kinky fantasies and, while there might be no sex involved, that was just semantics as far as he was concerned and he knew that his character would not allow him a moment’s peace while she was at work.
He felt his other argument was also fair—he could not and would not risk his reputation, there was too much at stake. His responsibility to his company and his employees was resolute. It was unrealistic to assume that Sarah’s activities could be kept private—it would come out eventually. Once the media discovered that he was in a serious relationship then someone would make it their mission to discover as much as they could about the woman in question.
He reasoned with himself that he was right, but why then did everything feel so wrong? He did have to concede that he should have approached the situation differently, and he was embarrassed and irritated to acknowledge that he had acted like an arrogant arse with his expectation that she would obey his wishes with no questions asked. He sighed and shoved a hand through his hair in frustration. His circular thoughts were not making things any easier.
He thought back to his first visit to Fantasy and was forced to admit that he had been seriously turned on by seeing the sweet, almost reserved Sarah in Dominatrix mode—the contradiction was unbelievably hot. Thinking about her dressed in that tight corset and those thigh-high boots sent a hot flame of lust through him. He shifted uncomfortably as his cock grew hard at the image. God, the woman was a siren, a temptress trying to lure him into forsaking his beliefs and better judgement. There was no denying that he still wanted her, and the thought of anyone else having her sent waves of anger sweeping through him.
“Where do I go from here?” he asked himself aloud as he gazed unseeing at the city below. Unfortunately he had no answer to his own question. He realised that he couldn’t continue in the way he had been for the past six days. Moping about and rehashing his disagreement with Sarah was not resolving anything. He needed to make a decision, and make a decision fast.
Chapter Eleven
It was another lovely Saturday morning and Sarah had decided to take a drive. She rarely drove anywhere as living in the city made public transport a much easier and faster travel option. She had even gone so far as to consider selling her car, but the thought of totally losing that form of independence had stopped her. That and the fact that her car had been a gift from her paren
ts—a very extravagant gift, but she knew it was so she would have no excuse for not visiting them at their home farther up the coast. She was glad of her decision now as she needed to unwind and to think, and on such a lovely day she could open the sunroof and enjoy the warm, fresh air on her skin.
Sarah buckled herself in and zapped the garage door open. After checking the street was clear, she drove out and headed north, across the city. Twenty minutes later she found herself parked on the steep street in front of Maxwell’s house. She hadn’t made a conscious decision to drive there. She suddenly just found herself outside his house, her subconscious obviously having made the decision for her.
Now that she was there she didn’t know what she was going to do. She had no plan to confront him and hadn’t prepared anything to say. She was a little unnerved at the stalking inclination this revealed in her personality, but quickly pushed the thought aside as she spied Maxwell walking slowly up his driveway.
Sarah slunk down in her seat, praying that he wouldn’t see her. He didn’t know the model of car she drove so she felt relatively safe in her anonymity. As she watched, Angelique followed him up the driveway. They stopped for a moment and chatted together amiably before Maxwell leaned towards her and kissed her cheek before opening the driver’s door of a small BMW and handing her inside. They said a few more words to each other through the open window then Angelique started the car and drove away, beeping once as she did so.
She couldn’t believe it. What was Maxwell’s ex-girlfriend doing at his house? Visions of Angelique and Maxwell at his party danced before her eyes and, after what she had just witnessed, the incident at the party took on a whole new meaning. Perhaps their relationship wasn’t over after all, or, if it had been, it appeared that now things were definitely moving in another direction.
