by Deena Ward
Good point. “This is all just so ... strange. I don’t know how to navigate in this world. I’m not even sure what questions I should be asking.”
The waitress delivered my drink. Once she was gone again, Elaine said, “There ya go. You’re smart enough to know when you don’t know a damned thing. So, if it was me, I’d want to know if Michael has ever hurt anyone, seriously hurt a sub, without permission, or went too far and ignored safe words.”
I sipped my drink and gave her an “and?” look.
She said, “And the answer is no, I’ve never known Michael to do that. As far as I know he obeys the rules of safe, sane and consensual. Those are important rules for the BDSM folks. Whatever you do, you want to play with people who obey ‘em. Safe, sane and consensual. Don’t forget ‘em. They pretty much speak for themselves.”
Elaine continued, “Here’s the thing. I don’t want to scare you, but you’ve got to be careful. Just like in everything, there are both good and bad people into BDSM, and it’s not always easy to tell who’s who. We rely on each other to police ourselves. If we find out somebody isn’t who they should be, we try to make sure everybody knows it. It’s hard to protect everybody, but we try. And lots of us especially try to protect newcomers like you.”
“I appreciate that,” I told her, sincerely.
She waved me off. “It’s nothing but what we should do. Anyway, that’s all just my long-winded way of saying that I’ve never heard of Michael breaking the big three rules. I will say, though, that I once heard a rumor about him that bothered me a little.”
“What was it?”
“It was about something that was supposed to have happened a while before Ron and I moved to town. We’ve only been here about a year and half, ya know. So, I heard that there was a sub of his spreading it around that Michael hadn’t treated her right. The person who told me didn’t know what it was that Michael supposedly did to the gal. It’s hard to judge what could be true here, when you’ve got so little to go by. Just like there’s good and bad Doms, there’s also good and bad subs. She could have been lying, trying to get revenge for him dumping her, or whatever, or she could have been telling the truth. Who knows?”
“All I can tell you for sure,” Elaine continued, “is that I’ve never personally seen him do anything bad to anyone, or at least, not do anything bad that someone didn’t give him the go-ahead to do.”
I was thinking about The Businessman, Gibson, and how he warned me to be careful around Michael. I recalled Gibson saying I should protect my interests. Maybe he had heard the rumor the way Elaine had heard it, and that was why he wasn’t more specific in his warning. All the same, it was reassuring that Elaine knew no personal ill of Michael.
I asked, “Do you know a man named Gibson Reeves?”
Elaine thought about it for a moment, then answered, “I don’t know him personally. But I know who you’re talking about. People have pointed him out to me.”
“Do you know anything about him?”
“Nope. Just hearsay.” She studied me. “How do you know Gibson Reeves?”
I debated my answer, not sure how much I wanted her to know about me. Finally I said, “About who he is, I know practically nothing. But physically, yeah, I know him. He, uh, he made me an offer, too, of a sort.”
I started in surprise when Elaine let loose with a loud cackle of laughter. She said, “Well now, Miss Nonnie Crawford, aren’t you just somethin’? Hee hee! I love you young gals. I tell you what, if I were 15 years younger, and single of course, I’d be doin’ the exact same thing. Two offers, you say? From men like Michael and Gibson Reeves? That’s somethin’. Good for you, honey!”
I didn’t know what to say to this hearty response. I gave a bit of a sheepish shrug and said, “I didn’t really plan it. It just all sort of happened to me. Really. I’m not kidding.”
She wouldn’t stop chuckling at me. I shook my head and waited for her to knock it off.
Eventually, she said, “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s just that I had this idea of who you are, and knowing you’ve also spent some time with Gibson Reeves, well, it just threw me. I think it’s great. Good on ya. Now listen ...”
She leaned across the table and with a lowered voice, confided in me, “Like I said, I don’t personally know Reeves, but I’ve heard plenty about him. Everybody says he’s some super-wealthy man, but that he doesn’t flash his money around the way other rich folks do. They say he’s real private and that you’ll never see him in the display rooms at the clubs. Some say they’ve seen him in action at parties. I doubt that, though. Lots of folks say that he’s cold and proud, but I’ve also heard people say he’s helped more than a few people out of a scrape or two.”
She continued, “I even heard a rumor that he’s a part owner of Private Residence. Who knows? Maybe so. I’ve also heard that he’s involved in a crime family, you know, like the mob, but I think that’s total nonsense. I’ve seen thugs in my time, and that man’s no thug. I’d place a bet on it.”
“Also,” she said, “I’ve never heard anything about him not obeying the rules of safe, sane and consensual. Not even a hint of it. Nothin’. Some of these women make it sound like they’d trade their first born to have a chance to be with him. Don’t give me that face. Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a bit on that one, but still ...”
I had no idea that Gibson was such a source of rampant conjecture for the local BDSM community, though I could see how it could happen. My experiences with him proved how enigmatic he could be. Also, I was now certain that Michael hadn’t been completely truthful about his knowledge of Gibson. If Elaine had heard all these rumors, then certainly Michael would have, as well. Perhaps Michael hadn’t wanted to spread gossip.
Elaine interrupted my thoughts with, “So what kind of offer did he make you? Come on, girl. Give it up.”
I smiled at her and said, “Honestly, I’m not sure. He wants to see me again, I know that much.”
Elaine made a singsong sound like, hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm. “This is what I call a serious dilemma. I don’t suppose there’s any way you could have both of them, is there?”
I enjoyed the way she was lightening the situation for me and I laughed. “Afraid not. I’ve been told I have to choose.”
“Well, damn! If that isn’t just like Doms for ya. Oh sure, they wanna share and all, but they still want that main claim to a sub. Wouldn’t wanna be in your shoes tryin’ to pick between those two. Oh, hell, who am I kidding? I’d love to be in your shoes.”
“I don’t know, Elaine. I feel like I’ve been trying to figure this out for ages.”
“That’s okay. We’ll work it out right now. We’ll make pro and con lists for both of ‘em. How’s that sound?”
I couldn’t help but keep smiling at her. Absurd. The idea of making a pro and con list for choosing a sexual partner. Good Lord. I said, “Let’s not.”
“You’re right!” she exclaimed. “I have a better idea. Now just hear me out.”
“Okay.”
“The way I see it is this. You’ve got two hot as hell men interested in you. They’ve both got a lot to recommend them. They’ve both got money. If the rumors are to be believed, Reeves has a big edge on that one, but I know for sure that Michael’s set financially. He owns some hot shot media business. What else? They’re both good Doms as far as we know. They’re both really good lookin’ in different ways.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’ve already said they’re hot.”
“Indulge me, honey. I can’t help myself. Anyway, like I said, they’re hot in different ways. Reeves has that dark, mysterious action, and Michael’s got those wolf eyes and that long hair.”
“Ha! You think they’re wolf eyes, too.”
“Don’t know what else you’d call ‘em. Let’s see. What else. Oh, Michael’s younger, closer to your age. How old are you? 25-26?”
“I’m 29.”
“Michael’s probably only a few years older than you, then. But Reev
es must be closer to 40. Around my age. That’s a pretty big age difference.”
Gibson didn’t seem a bit old when he was fucking me, I thought, but kept that part to myself because I didn’t want Elaine to expire of apoplexy.
I said, “Age isn’t really an issue for me.”
“Al-righty then.” She pursed her lips and thought for a moment. She squinted at me and a slow smile spread across her face. She said, “We agree that it’s pretty equal between them, right?”
I told her yes.
She said, “Then here’s my idea. I know you’re supposed to choose just one and all. But hey, I guess I’m just not seeing why you can’t have your cake and eat it too, if you know what I mean.”
I said, “I have no idea what you mean.”
“You’re just not thinking rationally here. You said that you aren’t even sure what Reeves is offering you. But you do know that Michael is asking for five nights.”
I nodded. Wow, this woman did like to draw things out.
She continued, “So what’s to stop you from accepting Michael’s offer of five nights? Give him the full tryout. Then when those five nights are over, you give Reeves a call and take him up on whatever it is he’s offering. You see what I’m saying?”
I had to admit, I was beginning to see what she was saying. “But Gibson said I had to choose, that I couldn’t have both of them.”
“Oh honey,” Elaine said, “it’s just five nights. Reeves probably meant a permanent choice of some kind. Don’t look at me like that. For all you know that’s what he meant. Anyway, what are the chances he’d find out that you accepted Michael’s offer first?”
Hmm. The woman had some serious points. She was tempting me, and she knew it.
She said, “Come on now. It’s the perfect solution. And anyway, you might find out that you don’t want to be with anyone but Michael after those five nights. Who’s to say? I just think you shouldn’t burn any bridges with Reeves. Accept Michael’s offer, but don’t tell Reeves that you did it. Nothing wrong with that.”
I said, “You’re truly a wicked woman, Elaine Hoyte.”
She grinned. “Don’t I know it. Come on. Do it for all us old gals who’ll never have a chance at something like this.”
“Right, I’ll do it for you ‘old gals.’ You don’t seem old to me, by the way.”
“I’m old enough to tell you not to pass up a chance like this. I’ve got age and wisdom on my side. I’m just sayin’.”
I laughed. “I think you’re convincing me.”
“Good for you, honey.” She raised her glass to me.
I took a long drink from my glass and considered everything Elaine said. Why not do it? Who was Gibson to order me to choose anyway? I was a modern woman living in the twenty-first century in a free country. I mean, sure, this BDSM stuff had medieval elements about it, but I personally wasn’t living in the Iron Age.
For the first time since I had been put in the position of choosing, I felt pretty damned good. I didn’t have to choose. Elaine was right. I could have them both, if I wanted, if Michael didn’t work out as a long-term partner.
I was going to do it.
I called the waitress over and ordered another round for me and my devilish mentor.
Elaine and I chatted for nearly another hour. She grew serious at one point and began talking about some of the things I should know about BDSM. Before I left, she gave me a list of Web sites she recommended to newbies and told me to get out there and get an education.
Back in my apartment, I ate a quick dinner and tried to pluck up the courage to call Michael. After I cleaned up and was returning to the living room, I noticed Gibson’s tie hanging over the back of a chair. How many times had I looked at that tie during the many days since I last saw its owner? How many times had I held it to my nose, inhaling what little remained of Gibson’s spicy scent? And remembering how it felt to kiss him, to have his hands on me. To have him inside me.
All of this had started with Gibson, with that tie. I picked it up, took it to my bedroom, draped it over a hanger and hung it up as far back in my closet as it could go.
Gibson may have begun this journey, but I’d be traveling the next stage with Michael. I returned to the living room and found my cell phone.
As soon as I placed the call to Michael, my nerves kicked in. What if he didn’t answer? What if I had to leave a message?
What would I say? Hi, you wanted to have five dates with me. No, that was stupid. Hi, I want those five nights you offered. Better, but not good enough. Turned out my practice message was of no use.
Michael answered his phone. “Hello?”
“Uh,” was my sterling response. “Yeah, Michael. This is Nonnie ... Nonnie Crawford. We met the other night at ...”
“Nonnie,” he said, his voice as sexy as I remembered, “finally, you’ve called. I was beginning to give up hope. I thought I might have to hunt you down and try to convince you in person.”
“You’re assuming that I’m calling to accept your offer.”
“I would never assume anything with you. I’m simply pleased to hear from you. I will admit, though, I’m hoping you’ve called to tell me yes. I’ve thought about you many times since we met.”
“I’ve thought about you, too.” Duh. Understatement.
“If you think it might help, I’d be happy to meet with you tonight. Try to persuade you.”
“I’m aware of how persuasive you can be.”
His low laugh sent a shiver through me.
I said quickly, “But that won’t be necessary. I want to say yes, to your offer, but I need to clarify a few things first.”
“Wonderful. Anything you want. Just ask.”
“Okay, you said five nights to explore these new feelings I’m having.”
“Yes, to explore your submissive side.”
“Right. Well, what would that involve? I mean, I’m not sure about ...”
He interrupted, “You don’t need to worry about exactly what we’ll be doing. I’ll make those decisions. I can say that they’ll be extremely sexual. Extremely. I’ve thought about doing all sorts of wicked things to you, Nonnie. Many things.”
He paused for a moment, then said, “I’ll be your guide and I’ll do my best not to push you further than you’re willing to go. But you can always say no at any time. If I do my job right, you won’t need to.”
I said, “I don’t know how this works, though.”
“That’s what part of this time will be for,” he said. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know, when you need to know it. It’s my responsibility to guide you, and I take my responsibility seriously. Trust in me, Nonnie. You won’t regret it.”
I shivered again. No, I couldn’t imagine regretting time spent with Michael. Well, as long as I didn’t break some stupid rule of his.
“Okay then,” I said. “Yes, let’s do this. I’m ready.”
“I’m pleased. I wish I could drive to your place right now and start tonight. But, unfortunately, there’s a certain amount of business we have to attend to first.”
He asked me a few things about my sexual history, similar to the questions Gibson had asked me in the suite that night, though far fewer in number. He asked me for my email address and said that he would sometimes use email if he had special instructions for me, or needed some information.
Lastly, we arranged to be tested for STDs and to share the results with each other. It was this detail that would keep us apart for several more days, since Michael preferred to wait for the results so we could both be confident when we were finally together.
“I’ll be thinking of you,” he said before we hung up, his words loaded with that heady combination of desire and danger. I thrilled to hear it.
I told him I would think of him, too. I meant what I said. The next several days would pass slowly, I thought.
I had done it. A rush of excitement filled me.
He had said, “I’ve thought about doing all sorts of wicked t
hings to you.”
Five nights with Michael, doing ... extremely sexual things. But what, exactly? I craved to know.
One thing I knew for certain, had learned the lesson the hard way from Gibson in that hotel room: whatever Michael and I would be doing, it would be what Michael wanted it to be.
I savored the anticipation of it. The rousing flashes of fear.
He would take and I would give.
Whatever The Playboy wanted.
_____________________________
Read on for a sneak peak
The Playboy’s Proposition
The Power to Please, Book 2
Sneak Peak of
The Playboy’s Proposition
The Power to Please, Book 2
Chapter 1
I wanted to be swept away in a grand and passionate love affair. I wanted it to wrap itself around me and raise me out of the monotony I had made of my life, of myself. I needed that perfect love to vindicate my past.
My past was an embarrassing cliche. Raised by parents who lost interest in me around the time I began to form my own opinions of the world, I sought reassurance of my worth from others. When I discovered the appeal of my youthful sexuality, I believed men could provide that worth.
It wasn’t long before I discovered how mistaken I was in that belief. By the age of eighteen, I was pregnant. I thought my boyfriend was more than gallant when he proposed marriage, and it made me love him. When I miscarried the baby not long after our wedding, I stayed with my new husband.
Not that I had much choice, really. My parents had kicked me out when they learned I was pregnant, attacking me with accusations and character affronts which assured I wouldn’t speak to them for years. I was on my own. No money, a high school diploma, and a husband who believed he would be a rock star one day.
I learned how to survive, took shitty jobs that barely kept a roof over our heads and food in our mouths. And because I needed to believe that I could have a better future, I took night classes at the local community college.
