by Nikki Sloane
I held out my hand and peeled back my fingers, both of us staring at the key, as I offered it to her. Maybe she’d take it and save me from this choice I’d made, which was probably a mistake.
She put her fingers over mine, closing my hand on the metal. “I thought I told you, Sir,” her voice was shaky, “I belong to you.”
Noemi had gotten her first taste of the wolf this afternoon, and it hadn’t sent her running. Perhaps she was attracted to the darkness in me.
Maybe someday I could show her more of it.
Choosing five clips to post back to her was surprisingly difficult, only because I felt like a kid in a candy store after the scene we’d done in her apartment. There was so much I wanted to watch her experience. So much I wanted us to enjoy together.
I sat behind my desk at the blindfold club, scrolling through the feed on Tumblr, trying not to think about the fact that Mr. Red had called and scheduled an extra visit with Claudia tonight. His standing appointment was typically Saturday. Was this because he was lonely? Fuck, don’t think about. I was already concerned about what to do when the actual event took place. It was her father. My girlfriend’s father. I was contemplating how fucked up it was when Payton appeared in the doorway.
“Hey,” she said, “Regan has a migraine, and asked me to fill in for her. Is that okay?”
Regan was one of my best sales assistants. Gorgeous, charming, yet slightly aloof, which proved to be a deadly combination for the johns’ wallets. She’d never once gotten on the table as the other sales assistants had. She lived for the thrill of negotiating and taking home lots of cash. Payton was better than most of the sales assistants, but she was also out of practice.
“Yeah, honey, that’s fine.” Although inside I grumbled about the money I’d potentially lose. “Thanks for helping out.”
She lingered in the doorway.
“And?” I asked.
“Dominic’s back from his business trip on Tuesday,” she said, then turned on her heel and marched away.
chapter
EIGHTEEN
NOEMI
It was crazy how quickly things escalated with Joseph. I didn’t know if there was a “honeymoon” phase of a Dom/sub relationship, but we were definitely experiencing some sort of high. Or maybe it would be like this all the time. Joseph would be quick to remind me that nothing lasted forever, good or bad.
His dirty texts filled my phone during the day, and his even dirtier words filled my head each night before I went to bed, the phone typically on FaceTime. Our Tumbler account was filthy, and I loved it.
I did not love how our schedules never seemed to align. He worked all the time, and whenever he had a few free hours, it was always when I had class. I’d never missed a class unless I was on death’s door, even if I was trying to be a bad girl.
I hadn’t seen him in person in five days, not since our late lunch that ended with a belt around my throat and the most intense experience of my life. I snuggled into bed with my iPad and fired up Tumblr. Posting clips no longer induced worry. I simply posted what I liked, and every now and again . . . we’d inadvertently post the same clip.
You have class at eight tomorrow, Sensible Noemi rumbled. She hardly made an appearance anymore. Joseph had run her off. I curled up under the covers and drifted to sleep, wondering what he was doing and if he was thinking about me as much as I was him.
I was awake.
I rolled over and peered at the alarm clock, having to get close since I didn’t have my glasses or contacts. Holy hell, it was three in the morning. I flopped over on the bed.
“Hey,” a male voice whispered in the darkness.
I screamed and bolted upright, wrapping the comforter tight around my body. Holy shit, I needed a weapon—
“Noemi, it’s me, it’s Joseph.” In the moonlight, I could see the figure had his hands up.
“What the hell? I almost had a heart attack, are you trying to kill me?”
“No.” His blurry figure moved, like he’d reached a hand behind his head to rub his neck. His voice was resigned. “I came to sleep with you.”
My brain refused to function. “Excuse me?”
The bed shifted as he lowered, coming into view. His expression was . . . unsure. Part of me was excited to see him, but a much larger part was just plain exhausted. I felt anything but sexy right now. He was my Dom, though. He liked to keep me guessing and on my toes, and I’d given him a key to my place. Using his own hand could only stave off the need we both felt for so long.
“I came to sleep with you,” he repeated. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late and you’ve got class early, but . . .” His arms wrapped around my shoulders and pressed me back into the mattress. “I still haven’t actually slept with you, and that . . . bothers me.”
He settled beside me on the bed, and as he got comfortable, my breathing grew short. Never would I have guessed he’d be into this. The distance he held himself from me seemed to be shorter each day.
“You still have your clothes on,” I whispered.
“Precautionary measure.”
I laughed softly. “What are you trying to prevent?”
“You know exactly what would happen if I took my clothes off.”
Now that I was fully awake, I rose up onto my elbow. “Oh? What would happen?”
“I’d be the third wheel to you and the tattoo.” He tucked my hair behind my ear and his fingers slipped down to cradle my face. “We can’t sleep together without the sleeping part, little girl.” He brushed his lips over mine, and warmth poured through me. “You need to get some rest. We’ve got plans tomorrow night.”
“We do?”
“It’ll be twenty years cancer-free, tomorrow. You said I should have a party.”
I smiled. “Yeah?”
He made a face. “It’s not going to be a big deal, just a few friends. Don’t go ordering me a sheet cake or anything.” Joseph urged me to lie back down, my head resting against his chest. “Your last class is at six, can you be ready by nine?”
It was stupid, but it always caught me off guard when he knew my schedule or remembered a detail I’d mentioned. With as busy as my father was, the way the professors treated me as another faceless student, and of course Ross’s general attitude, I didn’t realize how invisible I felt. Not until Joseph noticed me.
“Yeah, nine, no problem. I’m sure I can have the balloon bouquet ready by then.”
“Perfect. Now go to sleep before you say something that gets you in trouble.” I imagined all the sexy discipline he’d give, but before I could open my mouth, he added, “I’ll take away your pillow.”
I smiled, closed my eyes, and enjoyed the quiet with him for a moment. “I’m glad you came. Good night, Joseph.”
He let out a soft breath. “Night, baby girl.”
I steadied my hand as I swiped another coat of mascara on my lashes. I needed to stop stalling with the makeup and make a decision about what I was going to put on. What did one wear while meeting their Dom’s friends? Boyfriend, I corrected myself. He’d undoubtedly introduce me as his girlfriend. He’d kept cancer from them. His friends probably didn’t know he was into the BDSM lifestyle.
I gave up, left the bathroom, and snatched my phone from the dresser to text.
Which worked out better all around. I made my bed, laid out some options, and fifteen minutes later I opened the front door for him. My hand gripped the knob tightly. He looked amazing. Oh, God, he smelled amazing. I stood before him in stunned silence, wearing an old tank top and a pair of ratty pajama bottoms. I hadn’t thought this through.
“Hi.” He planted a quick kiss on my lips.
“Hey.” I struggled to keep my voice unaffected. When I’d crawled out of bed this morning, he’d been fast asleep, disheveled in his clothes, and sexy. But this version of him, when he was refined and prepared, this was when I had difficulty keeping myself from sliding into the shy girl I’d been.
“I put some different options out,” I said, le
ading him into my room.
“That.” He gestured to the simple sleeveless black top with a high neckline that I’d paired with a mango-colored fitted skirt.
“It’s not too summery?”
He gave me a look that made me think about sinking to my knees and undo his belt. “If you give me options that include a skirt, that’s what I’m going to choose.”
“Okay.” I looked at the clothes, then back to him. It seemed weird to get dressed with him watching. “I, uh, got you something.”
His gaze didn’t waver from my hesitant hands as I pulled the shirt up over my head.
“It’s in the fridge,” I continued.
His lips quirked into a slight smile. “It can wait. I’d rather watch this.”
Thank God I’d already put on my sexiest panties and bra, because getting naked in front of him would make us late. I had enough indecent thoughts in my mind and didn’t need the temptation. I was thrilled he was taking me to meet his friends and see another part of his life.
I tugged on the top and shimmied into the skirt. Even when I had my back turned to him, I could feel his hot gaze on my skin.
“I’m going to freeze in these shoes,” I said as I followed him into the kitchen, carrying my strappy sandals by the heels. Joseph opened the fridge and I pointed to the main shelf. “It’s in the white box.”
A suspicious look washed on his expression as he withdrew the medium-sized cardboard box and set it on the counter, and as soon as he lifted the lid, he began to laugh. “I told you not to get me a cake.”
I smiled and shrugged. “I thought you’d get a kick out of it.”
He had. I could see the warmth and amusement in his eyes, even if he wouldn’t say it out loud. And knowing I’d pleased him was worth the hassle I’d gone through trying to get the cake last minute.
He set his hands on his hips and gave me a smoldering look. “So, tell me, little girl. Did you write ‘Fuck Cancer’ on this cake yourself, or did you have to get the decorator to do it?”
“The woman at the store did it.”
He grinned. “What’d she think about your language?”
“Her mother’s a breast cancer survivor. She wrote it with pleasure.”
He took another look at the white, round cake decorated with elegant roses and seashell piping. The decorator had done it exactly as I wanted, in classy, tasteful script to play against the inappropriate words. But were they really inappropriate? I’d scolded Joseph for overusing the profanity, but he’d been through so much and almost died. If ever there was a time to use strong language, surely it was then.
“What are we going to do about this?” he said, gesturing to the cake.
“Nothing, it was just a joke. We don’t have to eat—”
“No, Noemi. I told you not to do something, and you disobeyed.” The wicked gleam in his eye had my pulse racing. “You’ll need to be disciplined. Should I do it now? Or later?”
“You said not to get you a sheet cake,” I reminded. “That one’s round.”
His eyes narrowed, but his expression remained playful. “Are you talking back to me?”
I clenched tighter on the heels in my hands and bit my lip, considering my options. Oh, hell, I was tired of fighting my desire. “Okay. Now,” I whispered.
He grabbed the box, strolled to the couch, and began to put on his coat. “Get your shoes and coat on.”
“We’re leaving?” Disappointment flashed through me. I’d expected him to take me over his knee, as I’d posted several clips of it on Tumblr already. “What about—?”
“If you’re choosing now, it means you want it, and I can’t use that as a form of negative reinforcement.” He came to me until we were chest to chest, his dark eyes staring down into mine. “The frustration I’m seeing from you right now? I like it. This is part of your punishment. The rest comes later.”
Victory burned in his gaze the half-second before he turned and moved to the door.
“You don’t have to take the cake,” I eked out.
He chuckled. “Maybe I want to. It’s mine, after all.”
I’d been in Joseph’s presence less than fifteen minutes and I already felt like I was drowning. The frozen, nighttime air assaulted my lungs when we stepped out of my building and gave me strength. Joseph put out a hand to hail a cab.
“Where’s the overpriced car?”
“At my place. I wanted to celebrate without having to worry about driving.”
We huddled into the warm backseat of the cab, and when Joseph gave the driver the address, I blinked.
“Your comedy club?”
“It’s not open tonight.” He tapped on the top of the cake box. “Private party.”
“Who’s going to be there? Did you prep them that I kind of have babyface?”
He chuckled. “It’ll be Payton and her fiancé Dominic, and I told her you were still in school.” His expression went serious. “Payton sometimes helps me manage at the wine club, so I never used your full name. I don’t think she’d recognize it, or you, but I’ll stick with the nickname tonight. She might accidentally mention it around Katzenberg.”
“Oh. Okay.” Katzenberg was a mood-killer if ever there was one. A few years ago my father had backed out of a deal when it looked less solid than Katzenberg made it out to be, and Katzenberg took it very personally. He’d been a grade-A asshole, or so my father said, ever since. I tried not to think about Joseph associating himself with a man like that. Grudges were petty and immature.
The cab dropped us at the front of the darkened building. As Joseph passed me the cake box and drew his keys out of his pocket, a couple began to approach from down the sidewalk. My mouth dropped open as the woman smiled and nodded to Joseph.
These were his friends? The power couple looked like they belonged in a fancy perfume advertisement, all sex and allure. The brunette woman, Payton, was only a little older than me. Utterly gorgeous. She had her arm threaded through her fiancé’s, and my gaze worked up to his. Short, sandy blond hair and strikingly blue eyes. Handsome barely covered it.
I wasn’t in the same class as these people, Joseph included. I was a ‘six’ trying to fit in with a pack of ‘tens.’ He worked with this stunning woman? It was impossible not to feel a tinge of jealousy.
A hand pulled me through the door and into the lobby where it was warm, and Joseph slipped an arm casually behind my back, gesturing to the couple that followed us in.
“I’m Payton.” Her voice was like a purr, and she scanned me with interest. “Em? This is Dominic.”
“Hi,” I forced out and smiled. Don’t be awkward, Noemi.
Joseph held out a hand to the other man. “Thanks for meeting us.”
Dominic shrugged his broad shoulders and flashed an easy smile as he shook Joseph’s hand. “Payton gets whatever she wants.”
“I’ve trained him well,” she said, her gaze turning up to her fiancé.
His eyes filled with heat. “That’s enough out of you, devil woman.”
When Joseph had said “party,” this wasn’t what I pictured. We wandered past the ticket booth into the club, which was one large room. The long bar lined the back wall and the room sloped toward the stage on the other side, square tables and wooden chairs filling either side of the aisle. The unlit stage was only a step up from the main floor, and a brick wall served as the backdrop.
Joseph took the cake box, set it on top of the bar, and moved behind it, taking off his coat. “What are we drinking?”
“Is she old enough to drink?” Payton asked, her voice teasing.
“She’s only three years younger than you, honey.” Joseph shot her a plain look. He pushed back the sleeves of his navy blue cashmere sweater and got to work mixing our drinks, looking right at home behind the bar. I needed to stop staring at him like a moon-eyed idiot before anyone noticed.
While she waited for Joseph to finish preparing her drink, Payton flipped open the lid on the cake box and froze.
“What is thi
s?” she said, her concerned gaze darting from me to Joseph.
“We’re celebrating.” He plunked her cosmo down on the bar in front of her, the pink liquid threatening to spill but didn’t. “I’m twenty years cancer free today.”
“What?” Her concern grew ten-fold. “You never told me that.”
He moved to the sink and washed his hands. “It was a long time ago.”
Watching her struggle to process the information was oddly touching. It was clear she cared for Joseph. Not sexually, I didn’t think. There was a frantic energy radiating between her and Dominic that was undeniable, like they only had eyes for each other. Payton took a deep breath and blew it out, rolling her shoulders back. “You should have fucking told me.”
Joseph raised an eyebrow. No, I don’t imagine he liked that.
“So, Dominic,” I said abruptly, trying to ease the tension, “what do you do?”
“I’m the VP of international project development at Chase Sports.”
Holy crap. Chase Sports wasn’t a small company, and he was a VP? At his age? He looked younger than Joseph. “How’d you two meet?”
The room went silent and I’d swear their gazes turned to Joseph, like they weren’t sure what to do.
“That’s a story for another time,” he answered for them.
Confusion tugged my eyebrows together. Was it embarrassing, and Joseph was protecting them? The expression on his face told me to leave it alone, and I chose not to disobey. He already had one punishment in the works, I didn’t want to pile them on. Joseph slammed his glass of whiskey and thumped it down on the bar.
“Let me finish getting it set up, and you’ll be ready?” he asked of Payton.
A diabolical smile slid across her lips, and her gaze sharpened on me. “Oh, yeah.”
It sent my stomach twisting, although I wasn’t sure why. What was Joseph up to? He went down the aisle and took a step up onto the stage, then disappeared into the wings.
