“Thanks. I forgot all about the mask. I’m just not used to doing this.” Ananda made sure she could see before making another step.
“Understandable. But you have to remember from now on. That is, if you want to stay in the competition.”
Apple stared at Ananda as though waiting for some sort of verification.
“Yes, I do. I do want this,” Ananda said emphatically.
Apple nodded. “I took the liberty of finding an outfit that Master Eagan would like.”
The dress Apple had lain out on the bed looked beautiful. It was an antique tan color with pale pink flowers over it. However, when she lifted the dress, it was almost as thin as Apple’s own garb.
“Is there a slip for it?” Ananda asked.
Apple furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head. “No. Of course not.”
“Okay, what about underwear? Does Master Eagan like the lacy kind or satin stuff?”
Apple shook her head. “Completely nude, of course. You’re not ashamed of your body, are you?”
Ananda looked up at the camera in the ceiling, rolled a curse in her head, and dropped her towel. “Of course not.”
Remember, you could be the toast of Broadway after this.
She allowed Apple to help her slip on the outfit, which seemed too fragile to even wear. The thin fabric caressed Ananda’s freshly-scrubbed skin. Each time the front of it brushed her breasts, her nipples hardened. And Apple felt this dress would be appropriate? No bra. No panties. Everything showing. Darnell would have tanned her hide and threatened to call her mama.
Apple kneeled down to Ananda’s feet and slipped on strappy stiletto sandals. Great, more heels. No time to style her hair the way she wanted, not that she could do much anyway with the mask; Ananda combed it all back into a ponytail.
“Follow me.” Apple headed to the door.
“Wait. How will the other ladies know that this is my bed?” Sure, Ananda had put her clothes on top of it. Knowing these women, they would push it off, throw her bed out of the window and burn the spot where her bed once sat.
Apple smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to secure this bed for you once the ladies have completed their dinners.”
When Ananda gave Apple a knowing nod, Apple walked out of the room to where Ananda would be meeting her date…well, at least her date for that evening. Over the course of the show, she was sure the man would spend special time with all of the women.
Ananda turned down a hallway and was surprised that Apple continued walking. “So when do we get a grand tour of this place?”
Apple turned, but gone was the jovial expression. “You contestants are confined to the bedrooms, the bathroom, and the foyer while on the show, unless escorted. Leaving your room after-hours or wandering the house can get you eliminated. Master Eagan was very clear on that when he started this competition.”
The man was a control freak to the fifth power.
Just as Ananda was going to ask, “Are we there yet?” Apple stopped.
“Here’s the formal dining room.”
With tentative steps, Ananda walked inside and peered around. For a Dominant asshole, he had the ambiance down to a tee. A long formal dining table sat in the middle of the room. Long, white candlesticks were lit and illuminated the length of the table. Suspecting that Eagan would have a table like this, Ananda was surprised that the two place settings were next to each other, although she was sure Eagan would have the spot at the end of the table. She would have thought he would have put them at either ends.
“Please have a seat. Master Eagan will be with you shortly.” With that, Apple walked out of the airy room.
Ananda should have listened to Apple. She should have sat down. Curiosity got the best of her. She instead strolled around the room to take in what Ego Morton was really like.
At his bookshelf, she noticed a lot of nonfiction titles, mostly by presidents. Did this man liken himself to the President of the United States? No. He couldn’t.
In the corner of the room sat an ornately carved golden harp. Although she should have resisted every urge to touch it, Ananda reached her hand out to strum the taut strings.
“You play?” Eagan asked from behind her.
Ananda shrieked and spun around, coming face to neck to him. “No, I don’t play. I was just admiring this piece. Do you play?”
He avoided her question. Instead, he said, “Why don’t we sit down and enjoy the meal I had prepared for us?” He held out his hand, a nonverbal gesture for her to accept it.
With some hesitation, she strolled to the table with him. As she suspected, Eagan had a soft hand, however, the strength in it impressed her. Guess he had time exercising it while whipping young women into submission.
Even though she wore stilettos, the man still towered over her. When he pulled out her chair, her heart melted. What guy does that nowadays? He was still an arrogant asshole with a god complex.
“Thank you,” she said as he adjusted the chair under her.
“You’re welcome, Begonia.” Eagan took his seat.
Just like in the movies, he rang a tiny bell. Apple and Willow, the other slave Eagan had introduced to the group, came through a door. Both had on similar dresses, basically mist with some color.
In Apple’s ample hands, she held a silver tray with a matching dome cover. Without making a sound, she set the tray on the table and lifted the lid. Ananda never thought she would describe salad as beautiful, but it truly looked like a work of art. Every grass green lettuce leaf looked carefully placed on the tray and fanned out in a particular order. Sliced cucumbers in the shape of the sun sat on top of the lettuce. Small cherry tomatoes dotted the arrangement with olives, green and red bell pepper slices, and diced carrots all sitting on top of the display.
Ananda didn’t want to ruin it just yet, but despite it being after midnight, her rumbling stomach wouldn’t allow her to pass up this meal.
After a nod, Apple served the salad, while Willow let Eagan test the wine. Once approved, she served the red wine to both.
“You know you are allowed to ask me questions.”
The sound of his voice shook Ananda to her core. Goosebumps prickled her skin until she had to rub her hand up and down her arm to smooth them down.
“Okay. How long have you been a, uh, well, uh—” She waved her hand in the air trying to summon the correct word so she wouldn’t insult the guy.
“A Dominant?” he said.
Ananda nodded. “Yes. That’s it.”
“You really are green about this Lifestyle, aren’t you?” A simple head nod sent the two naked servers out of the room, finally giving them privacy.
“But I’m more than willing to learn.” She picked up her fork and knife. “Wow. This looks so good.”
What an odd turn of events. The day before, she and Darnell dined on some chicken nuggets and cold French fries.
As soon as she shoveled some salad into her mouth, her gaze fell onto Eagan. With a hard expression covering his face, she wondered what it was that she’d done to offend him this time. Her elbows weren’t on the table. Thanks to her background in ballet, she always sat with excellent posture. This time she chewed with her mouth closed. Even Darnell would have been proud of that.
“Yes, very green to the Lifestyle,” Eagan said. He snapped his napkin and slid it over his lap. “In the presence of a Dom, you always wait until the Dom starts eating first.”
Ananda set her fork on her plate. “Sorry.” If she didn’t think the man would be completely grossed out by her spitting out her food, she would have done that, too.
“After I have started eating, and only when I give you permission, do you begin. Is that understood?”
“Yes.”
Eagan let his fork hover over his salad at her one-word answer. He glared at her, searing her flesh with his harsh look.
It hit her very quickly why Eagan stopped everything.
“Yes, Master Eagan,” Ananda said, hoping her memory lapse wouldn
’t have him regretting he didn’t let her go tonight instead of Iris/Deana.
Eagan waited a beat before finally cutting into his salad. He speared a few leaves then inspected them. Jesus, he could drive a person to drink.
Staring at him, Ananda hoped her look would make him buckle as his did to her. He twirled his fork around then sniffed the food. Damn it! Who the hell would smell a salad?
Ananda compressed her stomach to keep it from growling, although she should have let the organ speak loud and clear for her. She swallowed, hoping his careful scrutiny would end soon. When she swallowed, her stomach relaxed and a low, long, woeful growl emitted.
Feeling prickly heat sting her cheeks, she placed her hand on her belly hoping to quiet it.
As though feeling like he had tortured her long enough, Eagan finally took a bite of the salad. He turned to Ananda and nodded his head to her, like he’d done with Apple and Willow. She didn’t care if the nod meant that the food tasted like shit. She grabbed her fork and dove into her meal again.
“Tell me why you’re here,” Eagan said after a leisurely sip of his wine.
Ananda swallowed and hoped to God that she didn’t have lettuce stuck between her teeth. “I won the competition and you invited me here.”
Eagan set his glass down. “No, that’s not what I meant. I mean why are you on this show? Why do you want to be my submissive?”
She hadn’t expected to answer that question so soon. She had nothing prepared except for the made up excuses she and Darnell created the night she heard about the show. Hearing reasons like, “I like my ass like I like my cream, whipped,” wouldn’t be a good excuse to tell him.
“I’ve always been curious about the Lifestyle.” That was sort of true. She knew of some people who were into BDSM, but it never really floated her boat. “I thought the best way to get into BDSM would be to go to the best.”
He chuckled. “Ah, flattery. Cute. I can see you understand what a precarious position you’re in. Had you not stepped up earlier this evening, you would have been gone tonight instead of Iris.”
She bowed her head, not as an act. She almost blew her chance to make an impression. The world would never see her dance and know who she was. She had to redeem herself.
“Is that the only reason why you allowed me to stay?” She brought her gaze up and stared at him, hoping she was giving him her best fawn eyes.
Eagan dropped his gaze to his food. “Honestly, no. There’s something about you.” He glanced at her, then brought his attention back to his food. “Something mysterious and familiar. I can’t put my finger on it.”
The thought of him putting any body part on her, hardened her nipples. It was the one time Ananda wished she could feel comfortable hunching her back to hide her breasts. She just hoped Eagan wouldn’t notice her two-gun salute.
She also hoped he wouldn’t recognize her from the audition. It was apparent he didn’t recognize her voice. Then again, she had yelled throughout their last conversation.
One thing was for sure. Sitting this close to Eagan proved fatal to her staunch resolve. Did the man have to have such alluring green eyes? And that cleft in his chin made her think about licking it, then kissing his lips. She shook her head to clear the thoughts.
“Maybe we were lovers in another life.” She laughed as a way to lighten the conversation.
He continued eating. Not being interested in her at all was always a great sexual downer.
“I have a cousin who believes in all of that past life regression stuff. I think that if you don’t get it right the first time, you should start all over again. People deserve fresh starts, don’t you think?”
He slowly and carefully finished chewing his food before responding. “It’s an interesting theory.”
Long on action, but short on words. He would be an exciting nut to crack.
“So you never answered my question. How long have you—”
“Twenty-five years,” he said, butting into her query. “Since I was twenty.”
Ananda felt her eyebrows shoot up. “So you’re forty-five.”
Again, his fork hovered over his plate.
“Uh, Master Eagan, are you forty—”
“Yes.” He set his fork down and lifted his wine glass. “Does my age bother you?”
Although she hadn’t dated anyone more than two years older than her, Ananda wasn’t about to admit that and further ruin her chances with him.
“No. Age is only a number. You certainly look good for your—” She stopped when he flashed her another disparaging look. “You’re in great shape. You must work out a lot.”
Eagan took another sip and set his glass down. “Jog every day and lift weights four times a week. What do you do for exercise?”
“I dance, uh, cercise. Yes, dancercise. It’s a generic version of Jazzercise.” Real smooth, Ananda. “Other than that, I jog and work on my flexibility.”
This time it was Eagan’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “So you’re flexible?”
She swallowed. He wasn’t going for innuendo. It was obvious where he was going with his inquiry. So, Ananda played along. “Yes, Master Eagan. Would you like to see?”
He moved his chair back and crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you going to show me?”
She slid her chair over the hardwood floor. Standing straight, Ananda lifted her left leg, grabbed her heel, and brought her leg straight up next to her head. The sheer dress was long enough that it draped down in front of her naked pussy. The cool air that blew through the garment cooled down her sex until she took one look at Eagan.
His eyes said it all. He stared at her with such carnal intent that her knee buckled. She brought her leg down to keep from falling and returned to her seat.
Although the move impressed Eagan, she wanted to snag the attention of other producers looking for dancers. Since she couldn’t dance, not just yet, she would show she had some potential.
“I can’t hold it up there for a long time.” She lied. She could do kicks that high all night long if given the chance.
“Maybe one day I’ll test your endurance.” A smile cocked at the side of his mouth.
She swallowed. “I would like that, Master Eagan.” In more ways than one.
He rang the bell. As quickly as Apple and Willow served them, they rushed off with their plates and brought out the main entrees. Despite the amazing smells coming from their gourmet dinner, Eagan’s scent lingered in Ananda’s olfactory memory.
There was something so manly and rich about his distinctive aroma. No other man could carry that cologne, that smell, but Eagan.
“You never told me how old you are,” he said as he cut into the shark steak on his plate.
Ananda knew better this time. She kept her hands on her lap and stared at him eating until he gave her the proper sign. She could learn. She hoped he saw that.
“I’m twenty, uh, five.” Damn her stumble. She was so used to lying about her age that when the time came to be honest, she was going to lie again.
Producers didn’t want to take chances with dancers over the age of twenty-one. Dancers were considered over-the-hill after that age.
“Did you have a birthday or something and that’s why you forgot your age?”
“No. Sometimes I just forget how old I am.” Yeah, that made you sound like a fucking genius!
“And do you have a special talent? Perhaps dancing.”
“My talent is cooking.” Yes, that’s what she noted on her show application instead of dancing.
“Cooking? I guess it’s called culinary arts for a reason.” He nodded. “What’s your best dish?”
“I’m a southern girl through and through. Of course, it would have to be fried chicken. No one makes it better than me.”
Even Darnell had agreed with that statement on the rare occasions that they could afford chicken to cook.
“And what makes yours so special?” A small smile started to peek through his aloof countenance.
; “A little pinch of my special Ana— uh, Begonia magic.”
His eyes widened at her momentary slip. Waiting for Eagan to mention something about her name, her heart pounded.
“Maybe while you’re in the house, I’ll get to experience some of your special magic.”
Ananda released a long, harried breath when Eagan made no mention of her name. Maybe he didn’t really catch it. The name Ananda wasn’t so unusual.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” she asked, hoping to keep the conversation on him this time.
“Perhaps I need to be asking you questions instead.”
She blinked at his reluctance to talk about his family. Eagan’s gaze cut upward, which made her look heavenward as well. Camera. She’d almost forgotten they were doing a staged dinner.
“So what did you think tonight when I cracked the whip all around you?” The tone of his voice rolled over her like a hand caressing her body.
Ananda’s skin tingled at the thought of it. She remembered vividly the sound. The crack of the whip as it snapped by her ear still rang in her head, cutting through the air like she imagined it would cut through her flesh. Even without touching her, she felt the tail of the whip pushing a small bit of air whenever it snapped down. The air puffed against her skin, but not the whip. He was careful not to touch her.
It was that care, that control, that delicacy that accelerated her heart rate. Ananda remembered how wet she became and wondered why in the hell her body had reacted that way. This man physically abused women for fun. Despite her body’s reaction, had he touched her, she would have laid into him like a good sista should.
“After the first crack when you didn’t touch me, I knew you wouldn’t hurt me. I knew you wouldn’t hurt me regardless.”
Eagan finally nodded to her and she started on her very tender shark steak. The fish melted in her mouth and made her toes curl.
“How could you have been so sure I wouldn’t have slipped and touched your skin by mistake?”
“You’re a TV guy. You would want to drag out the suspense until the last few episodes once you got your audience.”
Eagan released the biggest belly laugh she’d ever heard from anyone. She never thought Eagan ever smiled, let alone laugh.
Love My Way Page 8
