by Sam Crescent
“A lot of people like you,” she said.
“I’m a likeable guy when I want to be.”
A waitress came out with a menu and handed it to each of them. “It has been too long since you’ve been here, Stephen. We were starting to worry in case you’d gone missing.”
“Sorry, Diane. I’ve been busy.”
“Are you going to introduce me to your girlfriend?”
“That depends. Are you going to scare her away?”
Ursula listened to the banter between the two, watching the different man Stephen transformed into.
“I won’t bite, but that depends on what she orders. I’ve seen the magazines, Stephen. I know the type of woman you date.”
“In that case can I have the pancakes with syrup and bacon? Extra on the pancakes,” Ursula said. “I’m Ursula Mills.” She put her hand out to Diane.
The other woman observed her before taking her hand. “I like her. She won’t take any of your crap. He can be awfully broody sometimes.” Diane jotted down her order then left.
“You have a lot of explaining to do,” Ursula said.
“What?” he asked. Diane brought them out their coffee before disappearing again.
“Stephen Knox, you’re a wealthy man with plenty of businesses under your belt, and yet you come to a diner and are more at home with them than you are in your own house.” She’d noticed plenty of times the way he looked out of touch in certain rooms. Most of the time he looked relaxed in the kitchen.
“This is where my mum and dad used to take me for breakfast every weekend morning. They were always busy, but they never missed a day,” he said.
“You loved your parents?”
“Yes. They loved each other, and at times I felt like an outsider. They did love me though. I know they did.” He was smiling.
“You should smile more often. So, why do you hate your home so much?”
He paused as Diane placed pancakes in front of them. She ruffled his head then left.
“It’s not my house. At least, it has never felt like my house. It’s a building that’s passed down through generation, and because I’m the only child of the previous Knoxes the house was passed down to me.”
She nodded, biting into the pancake. “Why don’t you redecorate?”
“I’ve never thought about it. If I redecorate then someone impersonal will be changing everything. I don’t want anyone else touching my parents’ house.”
They ate for a little while.
“Why don’t you redecorate? You could do it yourself. You work from home. Can’t you have one of those phones in your ear while painting a wall?”
“Eat your food.” He pointed at her plate.
Ursula didn’t pursue her line of questioning. People kept approaching the table and asking how he was doing. From the bits of conversation she heard, she knew he hadn’t been to the diner since his parents’ death.
“How long since your parents passed?” she asked.
“A while.”
“Is that why you don’t come here?”
He nodded his head.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For bringing me to the place you shared with two people you loved. I appreciate it.”Stephen reached across the table and took her hand. “Thank you,” he said.
Together they finished their food and sat drinking coffee. When Diane cleared away their dishes, Stephen paid the bill and ordered her once again to put her money away. Once they were in the car she turned to face him. “I think packing some clothes and my college stuff would be easier. I can put the furniture into storage for later.”
“Why? I’ll arrange for my people to collect your furniture, and we can put it round the house. Whatever you don’t want we can sell later on,” he said.
“What happens when this.” She gestured between them before finishing. “Doesn’t work out?”
“Do you think I’m going to make you leave? It will work out between us.” He started the car, but Ursula wasn’t convinced.
“Nothing is set in stone. What if it doesn’t work?”
“It will work.” He sounded so determined that Ursula almost believed him. He turned the key in the ignition, and the car purred to life. Seconds later they were on the road in the direction of her apartment.
“I’ve seen a new side of you today,” she said.
“Yeah? Do you like it?”
“I don’t know. I’m use to the brooding, alcohol-driven depressive who stands with me while I cook. This will take a while getting used to.” He chuckled. The sound of his chuckle went through her body making her nipples harden and her pussy melt. She had never known so much desire for a man. Since she’d met Paul she had seen several men, been attracted to them, but she had never gone through with it. The moment she met Stephen every other man went out of the window. He held her constant attention and made it hard for any other man to get a look in.
Maybe she should go out to a bar and make sure she wasn’t on some kind of rebound. For some reason, she didn’t think she was.
“Stop thinking so hard.”
She smiled and leaned back in her chair to enjoy the ride. All of her problems would still be there when she thought about it.
****
Stephen didn’t know why he took her to the diner. He had seen her walking down the stairs towards him and knew he wanted to take her some place he’d never taken any other woman. The last time he visited the diner had been the week before his parents passed away. They were two souls in the same pot. He manoeuvred the car round morning traffic. Diane had been a kind woman to him. She was over sixty and still running the place. He took Ursula’s hand, replacing the bad thoughts with the sweet ones from last night.
He knew there would come a time when he would have to tell Ursula the truth about himself, but until he needed to he was going to enjoy their time together. Club Possession had to be kept in utmost secrecy. It was one of the main rules his father had been sure to pass down to him.
They arrived at her apartment thirty minutes later. He parked outside the building and followed her up. When he passed a mirror with the pair of them their reflection made him pause. She looked so much younger than he. He noticed the way he held or touched a part of her body, his hand at the base of her back leading her up. She didn’t protest his touch. The image in the mirror hit him square between the eyes. The possessive way he looked and how he touched her reminded him of the men at his club.
It had to be possible.
He moved with her up the stairs to her room. There was no sign of damage on the outside of the door. He took the key from her, opening the door. They saw Paul gathering his stuff.
“I’m leaving,” Paul said.
“Whatever.” Ursula grabbed Stephen’s hand, leading him through to the bedroom. She opened suitcases. They packed as much as possible. While she gathered her college work he made a quick call to his security team to over look the movement of all her furniture. Paul was cursing as they went back into the main room.
“You’re telling me to leave, but you’re not even living here.” He looked red in the face. Stephen wanted any excuse to hit him. One word out of his mouth and he was taking the fucker down. Paul stared at him for several moments before storming out.
“Asshole. Come on. I’ve got to get to college by eleven. Would you drop me off?” Ursula asked.
He grabbed her bags then walked down to the car. There was work he needed to attend to.
“I’ll put my clothes away when I get back tonight.”
“Okay. I’ll put them in my room.” He didn’t know if she’d have some kind of order to her clothes.
“You want me to sleep in your room?” she asked.
He turned in his seat, cupping her face in his hands and brushing her lips with his own. When she was breathless he eased back. “You’re mine, Ursula. I want you in my house, in my room, and in my bed.”
“This is too surreal.” She licked her lips. Stephen wan
ted to taste her. Last night hadn’t been enough for him. He wanted more of her. The need to take her again and again consumed him. These needs had only been getting stronger the longer he knew her.
“Get used to it because I keep what’s mine.”
She didn’t argue. He gave her another fleeting kiss before starting the car. His first destination was the college. Stephen told her, he would be picking her up. She tried to brush him off, but he saw the delight in her eyes.
The next stop was Ravage, James’s exclusive BDSM club. Unlike the secrecy with which Stephen guarded Possession, James made his club visible to the public eye. However, there were parts where the public could go while others were reserved only for the experienced.
One of his security guards opened the door. He showed the guy his identity card then went straight to James’s office. The door was shut. He knocked waiting to be allowed in. James let him in, shaking his hand. Stephen noticed a woman bound to a table in the corner with a ball gag in her mouth.
“One of yours?” he asked.
James shook his head. “A training sub. She came with excellent recommendations. The only problem with Kitty is she likes to talk a little too much. My clientèle don’t like talking subs, if you know what I mean.” James took a seat behind his desk. Shrugging his shoulders, Stephen sat down in the chair in front of the desk.
“I don’t like the demand on Ravage,” James said. “I’ve had over thirty applications in the last week along with this.” He handed over a piece of paper which Stephen took.
He read the note out loud. “Your time for control is over. Ravage and Possession are going down.” He folded the note back then threw it on the desk. “Rather dramatic. When did you get it?” he asked.
“Last night. It was left on the bar. One of the waitresses came to me with the note.” James settled back in his chair. “We’ve got a problem.”
“No, we haven’t. Random notes do not make for a problem.”
“You and I both know why we keep our clubs private. These were the rules set by our fathers and the whole generation chain. Whoever is doing this knows about the clubs. He may even be a member.”
Stephen thought about what the other man said. He knew something was going on by the increase in demand. Never before had he ever considered so many applications before.“Look, have you gone to the police?” James asked.
“You expect me to go to the police with regards to a threat on a club considered to be a myth it is so bloody secretive?” asked Stephen.
It was one of the reasons they employed the same security firm to look into their problems. They were held by a code for the clubs and the members.
“Like you, this will stay inside with me and a few of the workers. Speaking of workers, a couple of mine were roughed up the other night.”
“What do you mean?” Stephen rubbed his head. He felt the pressure in his head, which would lead to a headache. If he knew there would be problems he’d have avoided Ravage. Already he craved Ursula’s touch. He wanted to take her in his arms and forget about all of his crap.
“A bunch of men grabbed a few of my submissive waitresses before the guards could help them. They took them down the alley out back and roughed them up. I don’t like men who abuse women, Stephen. I’m not a happy man. I want this problem solved. I know you don’t believe in the clubs, and you only dabble, but consider this high on your shit list.”
James was not a man to trifle with. He gave dominant male a whole new meaning. Looking across the desk Stephen saw the anger in James, who clearly saw deeper into the situation than Stephen.
“I’ll look into it.”
“You better, otherwise this if going to hit us in the fucking face and not in a good way.”
“No one can mention the clubs. The clause in the contract states that,” Stephen said.
“Only to the men who are members. This could very well be a turned down member, Stephen. Think about that. Anyway, rumour has it you’ve got yourself a woman?” James smiled and transformed into a fun-loving man.
“Don’t start.”
“I want details. Will you be bringing her to the club?”
Stephen thought about the way she looked last night on her knees before him. Before he met her, he liked to watch the goings-on in both clubs. He thought about other men seeing Ursula, and his hackles rose. No other man would see her glorious flesh but him.
“From the look on your face I know you won’t be requesting a scene room for help.” Out of all of the men, Stephen had known James the longest. James was the same age, and they lived in the same street three houses over. They came from the same background, as James’s parents had shared the possessive feeling. The clubs were united in their need to supply men with similar feelings a place to relax.
“Have you ever felt this possessive need to be the only man in a woman’s life?” Stephen found himself asking before he could stop.
“I run a BDSM club being the main dominant. What do you think?”
“No. I’m being serious. There are women who don’t inspire this feeling and others who do. You can’t tell me that you feel the need to keep every woman you train by your side at all times?” Stephen sat forward thinking about the way Ursula made him heel.
James stared at him, a deathly look on his face. The other man stood walking round the desk and stopping in front of him. “I’m only telling you this because you’re a friend.” Stephen saw the way James ran his hand over his face. “There was a woman once. A waitress who came to work at the bar. She was beautiful and charming. The need to claim her as my own arose.”
Stephen saw how hard it was for James to talk about.
“She didn’t know about who I was or what I did. The club didn’t have a reputation at the time. I pretended to be different. I took her on dates, and we had fun. Two people getting to know each other. Then one night while I was doing a demonstration she snuck in. When she saw me she was in shock. The relationship ended, and she left. I haven’t heard from her since.”
He stopped for a moment, his arms folded across his chest. “I would like to meet your woman, but don’t hide who you are. It will only come back to bite you.”
“And you felt those feelings stir when you were with the waitress?” Stephen asked.
“The time I spent with her I couldn’t imagine another man touching her. She was mine. I’m not designed to be vanilla, Stephen. The woman I have needs to know who I am before I’ll commit.”
Stephen nodded. Twenty minutes later he left the club and went to his own.
Chapter Eight
After college Ursula waited for Stephen, checking her watch every couple of seconds. She didn’t expect him to spend every moment of the day waiting for her. The least he could have done was be on time. She saw a couple of the other students coming towards her. They were not the nicest of students. They were a couple of girls with slim figures and perfect looks. She envied them with their easy ability to be themselves in their own skin. Sometimes she wished she was smaller or thinner. She couldn’t change the woman she was obviously meant to be.
“What are you doing?” Claire asked as they neared.
“I’m just waiting for someone. My boyfriend actually.” She pulled her bag up on her shoulder.
Come on, Stephen.
“Sweety, you can’t call that slob a boyfriend.”
“I’m not talking about him.”
They gave her a disbelieving look. She noticed they sat on the wall a couple of feet away. Ten minutes later Stephen pulled up. Instead of being angry with him for being later she walked to him as he got out of the car. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He held her.
“Please, kiss me like you can’t wait to get into my pants. Please.” He gave her a funny look. “I’ll make it up to you.”
He swung her up into his arms slamming his lips on hers in the process. In no time at all she was totally devoted to the kiss, with her friends at the back of her mind. He sank his fingers into her hair combing out the l
ocks from the ponytail she wore.
She settled down. “Wow,” she said.
“Wave to your friends for the full effect.”
Ursula did as he asked, then followed him to her side of the car. He helped her in. She saw the other students watching her until they drove away.
“Do you want to tell me what the display was for?” he asked.
“They drive me crazy. Paul made it worse when he turned up one day begging for money. It was awful, and I haven’t been able to live it down. Thank you.”
“You did say you’d make it up to me,” he said.
“I know. I’ve got chicken in your fridge. I’ll tempt your taste buds unlike anything else.” She laughed when he sent her a funny look. “I promised to make it up to you. I didn’t say how I’d repay you.”
He chuckled. When they got home Stephen went to answer the phone while she started on dinner. She couldn’t believe how fast their relationship had escalated in the last twenty-four hours. The undercurrent of sexual tension had always been there from the very moment they met, but she had never thought they would act on it. He came up behind her while she was cooking, his hands circling her waist as he nuzzled her neck. “I’ve got to go out after dinner,” he said.
“Where to?” Her eyes closed as he cupped one of her breasts. He set her blood on fire with need. She wore a blouse, and he unbuttoned the top buttons. A moan escaped her as he teased her nipples once he pulled her bra out of the way.
“I could touch you all night long and never let you go. You’re so soft.” He kissed her neck then moved down to her shoulder. Her blouse went to the floor followed by her bra. She stood at the stove in nothing but the jeans she wore to college.
“What are you doing to me?” she asked.
“Making you mine.” His free hand stroked her stomach, light strokes that left her panting for more. The small graze of his fingers on her skin was like a feather. She could feel his touch and wanted more. Why did Stephen always leave her wanting more? She felt on the verge of a great precipice with nothing to hold onto except the man in front of her. He tilted her head back to rest on his shoulder. Stephen leaned ‘round and claimed her lips.
