The Hot Sergeant (Second Chance Military Romance) (Hargrave Brothers - Book #2)

by Alexa Davis

  "Don't look so surprised. I know you gave him my address," I said. The shocked looked on Mr. Varner's face let me know that I'd guessed correctly on Tristan's secret source. I smiled lightly and said, "He came to my house and we talked things over. He convinced me to come back, if you'll let me."

  "Of course. Alcove Nine is waiting for you. Go on back." Mr. Varner grinned.

  I walked along the corridor that was already so familiar to me, but just before I reached the door to my room, a woman with short dark hair and a toned body stopped me.

  "You're that girl that freaked out last Friday," she said. It was more of an accusation than a question, but I nodded my head anyway.

  "Yes, that was me, but I'm fine now. It won't happen again," I said, trying to exude an air of confidence.

  "Good," she said, with a tone of obvious condescension. "Chastity and I had to finish taking care of what you couldn't. I don't mind the extra money or taking a good cock, but I hate having to take care of little girls who don't know how to handle the game. If you can't cut it here, you should go the fuck home, kid."

  "I can handle the game just fine. It's why he requested just me and no one else. I guess you just weren't his type."

  The brunette looked like she wanted to say something, but then she just turned on her heel and stormed away. I felt shocked and a little hurt that Tristan could call on a girl like her after I'd left last week, but I realized how unfair of me that was. After all, what did I expect? We certainly didn't have a monogamous relationship. We weren't even dating. I was employed as his prostitute and nothing more. Did I really expect that once I walked out on him that he would just sit there with blue balls, pining away for me like some wounded lover? I realized with a start that a part of me wished that he had. I was falling in love with Tristan Porter and I wanted him to fall in love with me, too.

  I found myself at the door to Alcove Nine and entered, hoping to see Tristan there waiting for me, but of course, he wasn't. I stripped off my clothes, set them on the shelf, and sat on the bed waiting for him to arrive. My skin was tingling with a blend of anticipation and arousal.

  I felt an emotional connection with him now that he had shared his secret with me and let me see his vulnerable side. I couldn't help but wonder how it would impact our sexual intimacy and the chemistry that we already had. It seemed only logical that it would make things even better between us, and I couldn't wait to find out for sure. However, as the minutes dragged on to over an hour, I grew listless and bored. I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes, resting. My thoughts were still of him and I let my hands wander over my body. My skin prickled with the light at the touch of my hands, and I allowed my fingers to find the delicate folds of my sex and fondled myself there. It didn't take me long to become wet and my breathing quickened along with my pulse as I pleasured myself.

  Suddenly, the door burst open and Tristan Porter came into the room. I leapt up from the bed, startled, and moved to cover myself. Tristan stared at me, openly taking in the sight of me and I lowered my hands, allowing him to. He was more strikingly handsome than ever, and I was surprised at the depth of arousal I felt for him. Still, I was embarrassed to be caught in the act of self pleasure, and my cheeks flushed.

  "Don't stop. Keep doing what you were doing," Tristan said. He closed the door and approached me with slow steps as his smoldering gray eyes stared me intensely.

  Awkwardly, I lay back on the bed and said to him, "You're the Boss, whatever you say goes."

  The corners of Tristan's mouth curled into smile, and he watched as I began to touch myself again. It was incredibly awkward – I had never had anyone watch me masturbate before, but my practiced fingers knew just how to pleasure myself. A bulge grew in Tristan's slacks, and I could see from the expression on his face that he was becoming a deeply aroused.

  He stripped off his clothes and sat naked on the edge of the bed, with his erect cock just inches from my face. In a deep voice, he instructed, "Faster." Instantly, I complied, increasing the motion of my fingers on my pussy. Then, he said, "Good girl, now in a circle like this."

  He showed me which way to move my fingers and once again, I obeyed. The resulting sensation was incredible, and I arched my back and moaned loudly. He continued to give me a series of commands, ordering me to go faster, then slower, then side to side. With every command, he drove me to greater and greater heights until I was near orgasm, panting and gasping. Then, he told me to stop, cruelly and abruptly, and commanded me to grip the headboard of the bed. I didn't want to obey, but I forced myself to stop masturbating and follow his instructions.

  "That's a good little Bitch," Tristan praised me, and his hands replaced my own between my thighs. A loud moan escaped my throat as he finger fucked me and I bent my head down to take his erect cock in my mouth.

  "I didn't give you permission to suck me off," he growled, removing his fingers and taking away the pleasure he'd been giving me.

  "I'm sorry, Boss. I was just trying to please you," I said, missing his fingers already.

  He got up off the bed and glared down at me. "Never assume to know what will please me. I'm the Boss; I'm in charge. When I want you to do something, I'll fucking tell you to do it. Now, go to the wall and bring me back the flogger."

  Reluctantly, I obeyed, moving across the room as slowly as possible. My hands were sweating and trembling as I set the weapon in his open palm and he asked me, "Are you afraid?"

  "No," I said, and I was surprised to realize it was the truth. I didn't fear Tristan. I knew that although he intended to punish me, he would not hurt me, and if I wanted him to stop, he would. I was trembling with excitement and anticipation over what was about to come. I knew that whatever Tristan was about to do to me would be incredible, just like everything was that had come before, if I was just willing to give him my complete obedience and trust.

  "Good. Kneel on the bed with your knees tucked up underneath you and your arms stretched out towards the headboard." I did as I had been bid and Tristan used a length of rope to bind my wrists to the headboard, forcing me to maintain the vulnerable position. He stood on the side of the bed and began to rub the handle of the flogger along the outer lips of my pussy. "So, my little Bitch, did you like the lesson I gave you on how to masturbate?"

  "Yes, Boss," I said, moaning with pleasure as he fucked me with the handle of the flogger and then whimpering as he took it away.

  "Did it make you want my cock?" he asked tauntingly.

  "Yes, Boss, it did, but that's not why I tried to suck you. I just wanted to give you the same pleasure you were giving me when you were fingering me. I just wanted to please you," I tried to explain my actions, but he didn't want to hear them. With unexpected swiftness, he smacked the lashes of the flogger across my exposed ass, making me yelp with surprise and pain.

  "Shut up, Bitch." His voice was cruel and harsh. He smacked me again with the lashes of the flogger, making me cry out again. "I don't want to hear your excuses. You work for me. When I want you to do something, I'll tell you to do it. Until then, you don't make a move without my permission. You got that?"

  "Yes, you're the Boss. Whatever you say goes," I gasped between lashes as he beat me with the heavy flogger repeatedly along my back and butt cheeks. The leather strips were flat and wide, so their impact wasn't sharp and cutting, but more of a dull thud. Still, it made me gasp with every slap, and I could feel my skin turning red. More than that, I could feel the tingles of pleasure ripping through my body and radiating in my nipples and pussy. I wanted his cock now more than ever, and I wanted him to fuck me with it hard until I came.

  Tristan must have sensed my desire. He stopped punishing me and released my wrists from the ropes. I was free to move now, but I held my position, not moving a muscle until he gave me permission to. It was an important test of my obedience, and I passed it. Tristan grinned at me happily and said, "Good girl. You've learned your lesson. Let's see how well, and then I'll give you the reward you deserve."

  He
ordered me to clasp my hands behind my back and keep them there while he enjoyed playing with my body. His fingers pinched and pulled my nipples playfully and then he took them into his mouth and suckled them soothingly. When he grew tired of playing with my body, he lay back on the bed and ordered me to suck his cock. I took to my task eagerly, hungry for the taste of him in my mouth, but I was careful not to be too greedy and cautiously obeyed all of his commands.

  "Good, little Bitch. Now, take it in all the way down to the balls again. Yeah, just like that. Now, suck just the head again. Good girl. Now, stop."

  Chapter Four: Tristan

  I woke up Saturday morning feeling refreshed, invigorated, and happy to be alive. My dreams had been filled with thoughts of Olivia and how good it had felt to fuck her last night at the club. She was so naive, innocent, and sweet, and yet, there was a part of her that was adventurous, dirty, and kinky as hell. She wasn't afraid to try new things and push her body to its limits and I loved that about her.

  It had been a long time since I felt that way about a woman and believe me, there had been plenty of them. They lined up outside the building where I taped the show, throwing themselves at me and begging me to fuck them. They came on to me at the clubs and slipped their phone numbers into my pocket at parties. I could fuck a different woman every hour of every day if I wanted to and never sleep with the same one twice, but all I wanted was Olivia. Her perfect tits, round ass, and penetrating eyes. She had such a beautiful face, with pouty lips, delicate features, and big blue eyes that drank me in. God, I was getting hard just thinking about her.

  I forced the succulent little Bitch out of my mind. I had too many other things to do and I couldn't be distracted by a woman, even one as incredible as her. I showered and dressed and went to the dining room where the maid had my coffee ready, along with the stack of morning papers for me to read. I ate my breakfast casually while I perused through the daily news, taking particular notice of the business section. My latest venture was doing well and my stock prices were already going up. I pulled up my messages on my cell and responded to some urgent texts. Then, I grabbed my jacket and told Adam to bring the car around. It was time to go to the mall and check on the progress of the new business I was opening there for one of my show’s winning contestants. It was sure to be a cash cow for me and after the loss of my stock portfolio after the shit Janice pulled, I was anxious to build my capital back up again with my investors.

  I met with the contractors and saw that things were progressing according to schedule. Then, I had a meeting at my investment banker’s office and made a quick stop at Fredericks of Hollywood to buy a special little gift for Olivia as a surprise for tonight. I knew she'd be waiting for me at eight o'clock and I was already counting down the hours.

  Finally, I ordered my driver to take me to my office headquarters downtown. Everyone was busy on the phone, as they fucking well should be, but there was a strange buzz in the atmosphere that let me know something was wrong. My instincts immediately leapt to Janice and her fucking threats to leak more stories about me.

  My advisor Avery came up to me, looking as pale as fucking cream. He stammered around for a moment, trying to make small talk, but I didn't have time for his bullshit.

  "Just get to the fucking point. Tell me what's going on," I demanded.

  “It's a reporter from the newspaper. He's running an article on the front page of the Sunday edition and it involves you. He wanted to give you chance to comment, and I've been stalling him all morning, telling him you were in meetings."

  Great. I fucking knew Janice had screwed me over again. Preparing myself for anything, I sighed and said, "Just tell me what the fuck they're going to say about me."

  I thought I was prepared for whatever the hell Avery had to say to me, but I was fucking wrong.

  Taking a breath for courage, Avery said, "The article is all about some underground club called Whip. It's a secret BDSM club where members can have sex with prostitutes. The reporter says he has inside information that you've been a member there for years and he even claims to have pictures to back it up. He's making the main focus of the story about some girl who works there named Olivia. He's got full pictures of her going in and out of the club. He wants to know if you would like to comment on the rumors that you've purchased exclusive rights to fuck her as your private sex slave."

  "Jesus Fucking Christ! He fucking said that? Goddamn it!" I didn't mean to shout, but I was fucking mad as hell. My fist slammed into the wall and all my employees looked up at me, startled. Lowering my voice, I said to Avery, "Let's go into my office and discuss this privately."

  Once we were inside closed doors, my mind started working rapidly to control and contain the situation. Speaking quickly, I said, "Call my lawyer and my publicist and get them both in here right away. Get Craig Varner on the phone, he's the owner of Whip. Let him know I'm prepared to give him all the support he needs to fight off the bad press and publicity. He's sure to lose a lot of business and money over this scandal, but I'm not one to back down to public pressure. If I want to go to a fucking BDSM club and socialize with beautiful women, then that's my fucking right to do so and no one can fucking tell me not to. Prostitution may be illegal, but that's not what goes on there. I buy a membership to the club, and inside I get to meet beautiful women, one of whom was Olivia. She's innocent in all this and doesn't deserve to be prosecuted by the fucking media. In fact, get her on the phone right now. I need to talk to her first before anyone else."

  I hated to admit it, but I'd come to care for that adorable little Bitch – a lot. It had been a long time since I'd felt that way about a woman, perhaps ever. There was just something special about her that I wanted to nurture and protect, even if it meant risking everything I had: my money, my fame, my reputation. None of it meant anything to me anymore if I couldn't be with her.

  Avery looked surprised, but he didn't argue with me. "I'll call her right away. Do you have her number?"

  I realized that I didn't. Shit. I'd been to her house once and that would have to do. "No. Tell Adam to pull the car around. Schedule all my appointments for an hour from now. I've got to warn her in person."

  "Don't you think these other meetings take priority?" he dared to ask me. "The girl can take care of herself."

  It was true, I'd never have given a shit about some whore before. I'd have let the cock-holder fend for herself, but I couldn't do that with Olivia.

  "Not this time," I told Avery. "Nothing takes priority over her, and if you've got a problem with that, you’re fired."'

  "No problem here," he said, as taken aback by my reaction as I was.

  "Good. Now set up the rest of the meetings. I'll be back after I've warned Olivia."

  Chapter Five: Olivia

  Saturday afternoon was pleasantly lazy. I had deposited the five hundred dollars cash I earned last night into my checking account and felt safe and secure knowing that my monthly bills would be paid, at least for now. That meant the five hundred I was going to make tonight was extra money I could spend on anything I wanted.

  Maybe I'd buy some new clothes, put a down payment on a car, or just save it away for an emergency. I felt like the world was at my feet and I was utterly carefree. Suzanne and Clara were out and I didn't have to be at the club until eight o'clock that night, so I decided to pamper myself with a luxurious bath. I added some scented oils to the steaming hot water and took my time shaving my legs, shampooing my hair, and just enjoyed soaking in the relaxing tub. Afterwards, I wrapped a towel around my hair so it wouldn't drip down my neck and put on my favorite bathrobe. The pink terrycloth was thin and worn, but it was wonderfully soft on my skin and reminded me of home. My parents had given it to me as a Christmas present years ago.

  I was just trying to decide what to wear for the day when I heard a knock on the front door.

  "Tristan, what are you doing here?” I was shocked to find him standing there.

  "Has anyone from the press contacted you yet?" he
asked me. I could see that every muscle in his body was tense.

  "No," I said, instantly feeling concerned.

  "Good. I didn't want you to be ambushed by them."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "They know about you; they know about us." He told me about the reporter that had called him and the article that would be appearing in the Sunday paper in the morning. Shit. Everyone I knew would read that article and know what I'd been doing: my friends, my family, and even my parents.

  My legs suddenly felt unsteady as all the blood rushed from my face and I became shaky and pale. For a moment, I feared I would even faint, but then I felt Tristan's strong arms around me, holding me tight. With a voice full of concern, he asked, "Are you alright? Come sit down."

  He shepherded me tenderly to the couch and fetched me a glass of water from the kitchen. As I sipped it slowly, he said to me, "I can hire you a lawyer and security guards to keep the paparazzi away from you. After the story breaks tomorrow morning, they're sure to be all over you like fucking vultures. I want you to know that I'm not going to abandon you. I'll do whatever it takes to protect you."