“We don’t do it best, Machala. That’s why we’re here.” I instantly saw the hurt my words caused. I took her cold hand and brought her fingers to my lips. “I want more, Machala. Not a contract with a time limit. Not straight D/s and not a relationship that centers on sex.” I stopped because the waiter returned with our wine. I went through the motions of approving the bottle, but my eyes remained on her. “We haven’t decided on our meal. Give us a few minutes, please.” I just needed him gone.
“I don’t understand what brought this change on, Luke.” Her continued soft, controlled voice worried me.
I didn’t want to lose her by overpowering her with the emotion I had trouble concealing. Yes, Luke, the big bad sadist, was truly caught by Machala Winters. “I don’t want things returning to what we had before, because it didn’t work. I need D/s in my life, so I’m not saying to throw it out the window, but I think the two of us need more.”
She remained quiet and picked up her menu. She finally looked over the top. “Do you plan on ordering for me?”
Relief at the smile in her eyes had me giving her an answering smile. “I’d love to, but this is a date and you’re welcome to order what you’d like.”
She laid down the menu. “Choose for me, please.”
This was a big deal for Machala. The first time we met, I remember the very slight upward tilt of her chin she gave when I ordered for both of us. I was pushing her that day to see her reactions. Tonight was an act of submission on her part. Fuck, my dick went hard. I lifted my hand and the waiter returned. I ordered something I’d had before and knew was good.
The waiter left and now the true test to my evening began. “Tell me what’s going on in the world of publishing.”
Machala looked away from me for a few seconds. “Is this something you really want to talk about?”
On Monday mornings, I would ask about her schedule for the week, but I never delved into her business. During the months away from her I wondered endlessly what she was doing at that very moment. “I’d very much like to know.”
She told me about the meeting with an author earlier that day—signing her to a contract and the excitement over such raw talent. Machala loosened up as she spoke.
“Do you usually take the hands-on approach?” I knew her publishing house was running with the big dogs.
“Yes, when I read someone I really like. This woman has too much promise for me to delegate her to someone else. I have several acquisitions employees who do it, but now and then it’s nice to go back to my roots.”
“What made you choose publishing?” She gave me a long look and I didn’t think I would like her answer or maybe refusal to answer. Our meal arrived and she got a reprieve. After we were alone again I didn’t let up. “Why publishing?”
She sipped her wine before answering. “I never had books as a child and when I discovered the joys of reading, it became a dream.”
She didn’t like talking about her childhood, so I let that end of her reply drop. “Why not a writer?”
This brought the smile back to her face and a small sparkle to her eyes. “I tried. I suck.”
A surprised laugh escaped me. The great Machala Winters wasn’t good at something and she admitted it. “I doubt you sucked.”
She finished a bite of the mushroom-covered steak I’d ordered. “All my stories ended in tragedy. Everyone died, including my main characters. Happy endings didn’t work for me and unfortunately that’s what sells for the most part with fiction.”
Fiction. I wondered if her writing was more autobiographical and that’s why there were no happy endings. After analyzing my months with Machala I knew she wasn’t happy. She went through life because she had to—not because she enjoyed it. Yeah maybe she found happiness here and there, but overall it wasn’t within her reach.
I wanted her happy. I wanted to beat her and fuck her in equal measures. Most of all I fucking wanted her. “Tell me about one of the books you tried to write.” It took a minute but a grin slowly lit up her face. I was able to enjoy my meal while she enraptured me with a story.
“The dog’s name was Mickey. He became separated from his owner, a young boy, while the family was on vacation. Mickey had to travel through one misadventure after another looking for the boy. A trucker gave him a ride and Mickey slept in the back compartment. The trucker thought Mickey was happy and that he would stay, but Mickey missed his true owner. Mickey survived a fire in the forest with hunters thinking he was a stray mutt.” Now Machala’s smile dimmed. “Mickey starved to death because he wouldn’t settle down and give up on the boy.”
Machala looked down at her food. “Dogs aren’t supposed to die in these stories unless it’s during an act of heroism or old age. It didn’t matter how much I wanted Mickey to live, I couldn’t write the story that way.”
“How old were you when you wrote it?”
“About fifteen I think.”
She shredded my heart and she didn’t even know it. She’d also told me more about herself than any Monday morning uncovered. “Did you ever own a dog?”
She looked back up and smiled in that soft way that had me wanting to make her scream in pain because I was a sadistic asshole.
“No, did you?” she asked a little sadly.
“Never had a dog, but I’ve had a pony.”
Her cheeks turned red and I knew by her expression she knew exactly what I spoke of. Fuck me, I really wanted to ride my pony.
Chapter Twelve
Machala
I knew I went too far… told Luke too much. The wine had relaxed me and sitting with him outside our usual parameters lulled me into a false sense of security. I saw his expression and even though he passed off what I revealed as no big deal, Luke saw the real story within the story. Starvation, loyalty, refusing to give up—it was all there. I hadn’t thought about Mickey the dog in years—only a figment of my imagination but a key piece to who I was.
I didn’t feel well. Luke ate quietly and drank another glass of wine. I nervously tried to think of a way out, but I couldn’t.
“You don’t like what I ordered for you?” he asked with concern.
Hell, I might vomit. “It’s good. I’m full.”
That look came over his face. I’d seen it many times when a coming punishment had me picking at my food unable to eat. He never stood for it and I wondered what he would do now.
“You’ve barely eaten.” Not the usual, Eat, girl, it will only be worse if you don’t.
I could see it in his eyes, though. I cut another bite, took another sip of wine, and placed vegetables in my mouth, though I didn’t know why. He could no longer bend me to his will. Then it occurred to me that he didn’t need to. I wanted to please him. It didn’t matter if it was forcing down food or taking a particularly hard beating. Seeing pleasure on his face was what rocked my world even more than repeated orgasms.
I placed my fork across my plate and pushed it a little away. Luke signaled the waiter and my plate disappeared. “I don’t suppose you’d like dessert?” he asked.
“No, thank you. I’m full.”
He started to say something then stopped. He took a breath and asked, “Would you accompany me to a barbeque at Krispin’s this Saturday?”
Of all things he could say, I hadn’t expected that. Luke kept me hidden from his bandmates—everyone but Wade. I never attended a practice or a concert. I was Luke’s weekend sub, his property, and he kept the two sides of his life separate. It really hadn’t bothered me. I craved the weekends when we were together and wanted nothing to invade our privacy.
He spoke before I could think of what to say. “I should have taken you when I had the chance and I’d like to rectify that.”
Now, he wanted to introduce me to his friends. I had no idea what changed so much in these last months that he was taking me on a date and then home to meet the band. “Is this really what you want, Luke?”
Oh, that sadistic grin that spoke volumes appeared. “I’m not known fo
r doing things I don’t wish to do.”
“Is this a sex party?” That would explain why he wanted me along.
“No. I love these guys, but I don’t share with anyone but Wade. This is a hamburger and hotdog barbeque, with water games and laughter. They’ve wanted to meet you. I think you’ll like Angela, Krispin’s wife.” Shit, Luke was talking faster than usual, almost rambling. He was nervous. “Stephon and Matt have a new lady too who they’re pretty serious about. I want you to meet everyone.”
“Blood Rights sounds almost domestic.”
Again, he didn’t respond the way I expected. “Stranger shit has happened.”
This vulnerable side of Luke was something I couldn’t resist. “I’ll go.” I said it and there was no backing out. “What should I bring?”
“A swimsuit that covers you,” was Luke’s immediate response.
He made me laugh and I realized humor was one of those things that was lacking from our previous relationship. Intensity dominated everything. “You don’t trust your friends?” I teased.
“I trust them implicitly, but if I said sexy, your suit might be see-through and I don’t trust myself.”
“You like my dress?”
He tipped back the last of his wine and threw money on the table not waiting for the check. “Too much. Shall we get out of here?”
I thought he’d never ask. My heart beat double time. Blood pulsed through my body and pooled between my legs. My clit ached for attention. My ass ached for Luke’s hand. I wasn’t sure what I wanted first—Luke to fuck me, beat me, drive me crazy or all the above in no particular order.
Sadly, what I got was a chaste kiss at the fucking door. I was too stunned to say anything and then he was gone after a brief whisper, “Think of me when you come tonight.”
Fuck. What the hell was wrong with him? Luke never denied himself. I thought about it for a moment… damn. He enjoyed making me burn. Telling me to think about him when I masturbated was a fuck-all tease on his part. I needed pain and dominance. He knew it and still he walked away.
He hadn’t asked me to see him again until Saturday afternoon for the barbeque. I’d die from clit denial if I waited that long. I called his cell phone.
“Yes.”
“You can’t leave me like this, Luke.” Crap, I sounded desperate.
His response was entirely too smartass. “This was only a first date, Machala. I didn’t think you’d put out.”
“What about you?” Though it was rare, he’d denied me before during our weekends. At least I got a certain amount of pleasure by pleasing him and if that’s all I could have, I’d take it.
“I’ll think about fucking your ass and making you scream while I’m in the shower tonight. You do the same and we’ll discuss it Saturday night after the barbeque.” The line went dead.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I’d somehow live through the night, maybe. I had a long week ahead of me and getting through that wouldn’t be easy. Of course, I’d been here before on Monday mornings when I went to work so hot and bothered I wanted to scream. This was what loving a sadist was all about and the thought had me smiling. Now I just had to clear my mind of sex, and sleep without dreaming.
Fat chance.
***
Danny gave me a long look when I walked past his desk the following day.
“Good morning,” I said as I entered my office. He followed me, and when I sat down, I noticed the newspaper under his arm.
He bent over my desk and placed it in front of me.
Shit.
It was a side view photo of me and Luke. Could The Ice Queen Be Thawing? was the headline in the Lifestyles section. I only read the first sentence. Machala Winters of Winters’ Publishing was seen last night with hot rocking drummer Luke Isaak. I looked up. “It could have been worse. The back of my dress was shameless.”
Danny wasn’t smiling. “I thought you turned him down.”
I could hear the hurt in Danny’s voice. He would never understand the dynamic I had with Luke, but I had to try to explain. “I have needs, Danny. You know more about those than most people. Please don’t judge me. Luke meets those needs safely. I trust him.”
“It’s your mental stability I worry about. This isn’t about sex.” Danny started pacing in front of my desk.
“Aren’t they one and the same? When it comes right down to it, I’m pretty fucked up. I’m not like you. I need pain and humiliation to get off. I wish I didn’t, but it’s who I am and I’m not running from it. I left Luke before. If this,” I threw my hands up, “whatever it is goes the same way I’ll do it again. Last night was a date. Plain and simple, nothing more.” I wouldn’t tell him about Friday night or the fact sex was on the table last night and Luke said no. I still had some pride left.
Danny stopped and looked at me again. “I can’t help worrying. Please, Machala, see a professional. You think this is you, but I know you’re locked into some sexual game and you can’t find the exit. This goes deeper than sex and maybe just maybe, fixing the cause will change the outcome.”
No, he would never understand. “Back off, Danny.”
With a hurt look Danny walked out. I could hear him making noises at his desk, so at least he hadn’t completely deserted me. I refused to dwell on what I couldn’t and wouldn’t change. Work called and I had a contract to review and the first few chapters of a book from a new author we wanted to sign to look over. It was going to be a hell of a long week.
Luke didn’t call once throughout the week. He said he’d pick me up at two on Saturday afternoon, so I was ready. I’d actually packed two swimsuits. I would get the lay of the land before deciding which to wear. I knew Luke’s bandmates were kinky. They traveled far outside publishing circles, but it wasn’t easy for me to let my hair down. If I wore the barely there suit and Luke didn’t like it—he would punish me and that had me smiling. Payback was a bitch and I owed him for the misery he put me through all week. I also owed him for my nerves, which were shattered. I didn’t do well in carefree social situations. Give me a black tie dinner with me wearing a designer dress and I could plaster my ice smile on. Or even a dominant standing over me with a whip. Then I was in my element. Friends, barbeques, and fun not so much. There was no script, no expectation, no rules. Only the fact Luke wanted me to meet his friends.
Chapter Thirteen
Luke
This was the first time I’d seen Machala dressed casually. Her hair was down, sunglasses propped on her head, an unbuttoned blouse over a tank top and shorts that displayed her long legs. My dick ached. It was hell to stay away from her all week. I wasn’t good at denying myself. I told her I’d jerk off to thoughts of her, but I lied. I managed to keep my hands off my dick because she was worth all the torture my cock lived through during the week. Now I just had to make it through another one. At least one more week of self-denial was part of my plan. Fuck.
She brought a bag and assured me she had a suit packed along with sunblock. Her olive skin could probably handle more sun than mine could, but the thought of her oiled skin was playing havoc with my junk. The guys would get a kick out of this.
We drove to Krispin’s in near silence. Machala’s nervousness brought out a tender side to me that wasn’t there before I met her. I knew my friends would love her and make her feel welcome, but she had to meet them and learn it for herself.
When we entered Krispin’s home, I heard voices in the backyard, so I steered Machala outside. My bandmates were relaxing in the pool. Stephon, Matt, and their girlfriend, Jewel, sat on the edge having a conversation with Krispin. Angela rested in the circle of Krispin’s arms in the water, so I couldn’t see her large baby-filled belly. I didn’t notice Wade or Rocky, but knew they were close by. Getting Wade away from the band rarely happened and we’d all been paying close attention since his slide from sobriety. Rocky would be monitoring Wade and when he left off another of us would pick up.
Living the rock-and-roll lifestyle wasn’t easy if you were a r
ecovering addict or alcoholic. I was the only one who had a drink or two on occasion when the others weren’t around. I loved them too much to tempt them and I never wanted to return to the early days when the drug and alcohol-filled lifestyle almost ended the band and our friendship.
I gave an apologetic smile to Machala because this was too good to pass up. I removed my shirt and toed off my shoes before I started running. The cannonball was epic and had Stephon, Matt, and Krispin swearing as I came up for air.
“You fucking moron. You are so drinking the bathwater.” Matt dove in and reached me first.
I loved these guys. I heard Angela’s squealing laugh as she exited the pool.
Two seconds later, as we were dunking, fighting for breath, and getting on the rough side, Wade and Rocky joined us with their own large splashes. Of course, Wade had Krispin’s back. The man worshiped every breath his boss took. Krispin had taken him off the streets, dried him out, and given him the job of a lifetime. Now Wade took care of all of us, including Angela and Jewel. Wade had the gift of fixing unique problems associated with a rock band. He made sure the many facets of our lives ran smoothly and took a huge weight off our shoulders. He ran interference, kept us on schedule, and generally made us look good. He played in our kinky world and was fuck-all sexy when he got his groove on.
The day Machala left me was not the first time I’d topped him. I think he’d be a far better top or Dom than bottom, but he needed to take the reins in his own time.
The heavy weight of Matt landed on my back and Stephon pushed on my head from the front. I went under, but managed to grab Stephon’s balls. He released me and I slid from beneath Matt.
When I came up for air, Stephon was taunting Matt. “Come rub my balls. Lefty thinks I like it rough, but you’re the only one with the perfect touch.”
“I’ll rub your balls if you rub my cock.” Matt climbed from the pool, grabbed his junk, and shook it at Stephon. Jewel climbed out too and whispered something in Matt’s ear. His arm circled her waist and he pulled her close.
Temporary Dom Page 7
