Charlie grinned. “Oh Natalie, we both know you were never a Girl Scout.”
The minute they walked into the bar they were hit by a wall of people. Natalie spotted a few guys from Pearse right away and she plowed her way through the crowd to get to them. Crushed by the sardine-like atmosphere at the bar, Charlotte opted to find the ladies’ room and a quiet moment away from the group.
As she made her way back to the end of the room, she spotted Nathan. She decided it would be fine to be polite, so she waved hello.
“Charlie!” Nathan shouted and motioned her over. “Hey, how about a drink?”
“I don’t know, Nate, I’ve got an early meeting.”
“C’mon. It’s just one margarita. You’re young, live a little.” Nathan grinned.
“I suppose one wouldn’t hurt.” Charlie shrugged and Nate handed her a drink on the rocks. She took a sip from it.
“That was one never-ending meeting today. My God but Pearse is self-important. I swear he could have just droned on, listening to the sound of his own voice.” Nathan snuck his arm around Charlie’s shoulders.
Natalie knew Nathan from her neighborhood. She had a crush on him, even when he was a gangly, brace-faced boy. He was her first kiss, but as she grew older, she knew that Nate was not her type. Charlie was guessing from the way he droned on, he wasn’t much her type either.
“I know! I didn’t think we would ever get out of there,” Charlie responded, taking another sip from her glass. “Who do you think’s the most qualified?”
“Ahh, let’s not talk work right now. I want to know more about you. What brings you to Pittsburgh?”
Charlie finished the rest of her margarita quickly in the hopes of making a quick exit, but no such luck. Just as she was about to offer her excuses, Nate thrust another drink in her hand. A margarita, the official snow cone of bad decisions. She nursed it slowly, taking in the conversation between Nate and Matt, and trying to make eye gestures to Natalie to help get her out of there, but no such luck.
Nate’s arm soon snaked its way around Charlie’s waist as he whispered in her ear. Through the buzzing from the crowd in her brain, she knows that this is wrong. “Nate, what are you doing? Have you had too much to drink?”
“What?” he asked. “I’m not drunk. I’m fine. And so are you. You’re fine, so fine … ” Nate said, drawing Charlie closer to his side.
Natalie glared at Nate. “Hey, she has a boyfriend. Just because she’s here having a drink with you doesn’t mean she is going to jump into bed with you.”
“Fuck off, Natalie! I don’t see him here now.”
“Either you let her go, or I’ll bash your fucking face in, you prick!”
The craziness, the noise, all of it was suddenly gone when she heard his voice. Charlie felt the heat of his palm on the nape of her neck as he drew her backward into his embrace. Natalie looked smugly at Nathan, and Nathan for his part tried to look tough, but he was no match for Declan.
But in that moment, none of that mattered.
I’m in a shit load of trouble.
Charlie felt it in the way Declan was holding her. His body was tense, poised, and ready to strike if Nathan even made so much as the slightest move toward her.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at the office, Charlie,” Nathan said as he walked away.
“I think I’m going to give Ms. Flynn a ride home,” Declan informed Natalie. “She’s had too much to drink.”
Without another word, Declan led her out of the bar, not releasing her until they reached his car. She stumbled a bit as he opened the car door, his blue eyes ablaze with fury.
“Do not speak. Get. In. The. Car.”
Charlie did so without hesitation, buckling her seat belt as Declan slid into the driver’s side and started the engine. Music blared to life, but he punched a button on the dash, silencing it. The gentle rocking of the car had Charlie clutching her stomach, the nausea churning.
They reached the hotel in record time. Declan came around to the passenger side and opened the door helping Charlie out. He lifted her into his arms and carried her into the lobby and over to the bank of elevators. Once they reached his floor, Declan unlocked the door and carried Charlie inside, straight to the bathroom, where he lifted the toilet seat. Gently, he placed her on the floor in front of it. At the sight of it, Charlie puked. Declan held her hair back from her face, rubbing her back in soothing circles as she purged all the alcohol from her system.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Pearse,” Charlie said as she passed out.
***
When she awoke the next morning, Charlie felt like a stampeding herd of buffalo was roaming free in her head. She sat up, grimacing, surprised to find herself in the warm confines of a bed. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, trying to get her bearings. She glanced around the room. His hotel suite. His bed. Declan.
Charlie glanced to her right, but Declan wasn’t sleeping beside her. In fact, the sheets were undisturbed. She clamored out of bed, smoothing the front of Declan’s football t-shirt. She tiptoed out of the bedroom, and spotted Declan lounging in the leather chair, her journal in his hands.
His hair was damp, like he just got out of the shower, and he was barefoot, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a dark shirt. Normally, he would want her to come to him, but Charlie stood frozen in place unsure of what the protocol may be for this type of situation.
Declan glanced up from Charlie’s journal, his stare meeting hers before she hesitantly dropped her gaze to the floor. Suddenly everything from last night came surging back.
“Mr. Pearse, I—”
“I don’t recall giving you permission to speak,” he said, his voice growing deeper with his anger.
Charlie immediately shut her mouth, fighting back the need to cry. She hated displeasing him. She should have trusted her instincts and not gone out last night, or at the very least texted him.
“You have twenty minutes. Go shower and dress.” He turned away, ignoring her now, his dismissal cutting Charlie deeply.
In the bathroom, Charlie shakily turned the taps to the shower on. She stripped out of his shirt and climbed under the warm water, allowing the shower to wash away last night’s bad decisions. She was physically clean, but Charlie knew she wouldn’t feel better until she had earned Declan’s forgiveness. She wrapped a towel around herself, and brushed her teeth before entering into the bedroom. Declan had laid out an outfit for her to wear. Her head was still pounding, but she refused to complain.
She pulled on the nude lace bra, and the matching panties. Next, she grabbed the green sweater, and the jeans he left for her on the bed. She twisted her hair up into a knot and walked back out into the living room.
Declan spared her a glance and held out his hand. “Here, take these. I’m sure your head must be killing you.”
Charlie took the offered pills, downing them with a glass of water. She took the glass to the kitchenette area, rinsing it out before placing it on the counter, and returning to her spot next to Declan.
He sighed heavily, placing Charlie’s journal face down in his lap. “Kneel.”
Charlie dropped down in front of him, her head bowed.
“I expected more from you.” He sat forward, reaching out to place a finger beneath Charlie’s chin, and lifted her head so that she could see his face. “I’m so disappointed in you.”
Charlie’s hands trembled, her eyes watering and spilling over at his words.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, shaking her head. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Pearse.”
He shot her an impassive look. Her apology meant nothing to him.
“Do you deserve to be punished?”
“Yes, Mr. Pearse.”
He arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Do you want me to punish you?”
“Yes, Mr. Pearse.”
He shook his head, his eyes looking cold. “And you were learning so well.”
Chapter Eight
/> Aside from his burgeoning relationship with Charlotte over the past month, everything else in Declan’s life returned to the same routine he had prior to his transfer to London. Today wasn’t any different – grabbing a bite after the league basketball game. Yeah, I’m going to stuff my face with a burger and wash it down with some beer, get over it. He and Owen were usually the late arrivals, but today they were the first ones there.
“So tell me about this Miss Flynn,” Owen said as he surveyed the menu, and then snapped it shut. Declan had no idea why he bothered to even open it. Owen always ordered the Steakhouse Burger.
“Charlotte’s very driven and absolutely brilliant. She finished her undergrad in three years and is taking grad courses online while working at Pearse as a researcher. She really is well-versed in …”
Owen shook his head and shrugged as if to say, What the fuck are you talking about? Owen was brilliant in his own right, but he held no interest in the inner workings of a publishing house.
Declan continued. “Anyway, a few weeks ago, when you were off punishing your new pussy, Aaron set me up on a blind date with Charlotte. He’s engaged to her older sister, Michaela. Apparently Michaela has grown tired of Charlotte throwing herself away on books and was determined to get her out of the library and into someone’s arms.”
The waiter brought their drinks, and they explained they were waiting on a couple of others.
Owen glanced back at him. “So does big sister know that little sister is to be your submissive?”
“No, I don’t believe so. Besides, it’s early for that sort of declaration. I haven’t exactly collared her yet.”
Declan didn’t miss the way Owen’s eyes widened. “You’re thinking of collaring her already?”
He waved Owen’s shocked comment off.
“So it’s going well then?”
It had been going well. It had been intense. It had him questioning his ability to maintain control. Truthfully, Charlotte shocked him. He’d gone into the idea of the blind date thinking there must be an explanation for her celibate bookworm status. Declan fully expected her to be either awkward or boring or a combination of both. But Charlotte was none of those things, and she definitely was more than a passing “favor” to a friend. Sure, she was a bit unsure of herself at times and a bit naïve, but she was simply driven and had buried herself in work.
She’s obsessed with work and her writing, Aaron had said when he called. Michaela feels like she’s letting her down by not being able to bring Charlie out of her shell. Michaela doesn’t even know how to reach her at this point.
Declan blinked back to awareness as both Aaron and Lila arrived at the table. Owen stood to greet them, gently taking Lila by the elbow and whispering something in her ear. Declan looked away as Lila blushed and lowered her gaze.
“So what were we talking about?” Aaron sat across from Declan. Aaron sat down and thanked the waiter for his Sam Adams.
“We were discussing Declan’s new girl,” Owen winked. “His new submissive is quite lovely.”
Lila laughed. “So, Declan, getting a play partner is now considered news?” She sipped her martini. “Wait, does Katherine know?”
“Not likely, and it doesn’t matter if she does.”
Declan thought about Katherine briefly as the others chatted. Katherine had been his play partner before he moved to London. She introduced him to the lifestyle but once she accepted the fact that Declan would never be able to be anything but a Dominant, it ended amiably. He had run into her again the night he returned to Pittsburgh at the Altar Bar. She said this time she wanted to have some fun, so Declan figured why not. But, it was the same as before, he was going through the motions. It was touch, tease, tie up, fuck, climax, untie, and then leave.
“If you’re at all interested in keeping ahold of your new girl, I would make sure you steered clear of Katherine all the same,” Lila warned.
Their sandwiches arrived, and they ate in silence for a bit. Declan’s mind started to wander. He thought about Charlotte, and how they needed to establish some balance in their budding relationship. She had gone out unguarded without him knowing, and that was overstepping what he was comfortable with. He had her keep track of her transgressions in the journal he had given her, and he was pleased that she detailed every instance of bad behavior meticulously, as though she knew how he would have directed her to write it. That did please him immensely, but he felt things were off-kilter.
Maybe it was the increased testosterone coursing through his blood from the basketball game, but he was hungry. He needed to collect on the punishment Charlotte was due. He needed it, and so did she. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and quickly texted her.
Declan: It’s time for me to collect on what’s owed me. Your punishment will be tonight. Meet at the new place. 7:30. Don’t be tardy Charlotte.
***
Declan sat in the office of his new home at three minutes before seven thirty and waited. Shortly after he had left the restaurant, he went home and gathered a few things. On his desk sat a paddle with electrical tape wrapped around the handle, a whip neatly coiled like a snake waiting to strike, and a blindfold. He decided that since it was his first time to punish Charlotte, he would give her a choice before he blindfolded her. His mind wandered to images of her creamy white flesh under the sting of his discipline, but a quiet rap on his office door interrupted his thoughts “Come in, Charlotte.” A wry smile spread across his face.
“Good evening, Mr. Pearse,” Charlotte spoke as she closed the door behind her.
“Good evening, Charlotte.” ’Declan smiled. “Before we begin, I trust you understand why you’re here this evening?”
“I’m being punished for not letting you know beforehand that I was going out to the bar with Natalie and her friends,” she recited without fuss. ““Mr. Pearse, will you permit one question though?”
“Certainly, Charlotte.” Her calmness impressed him. “Ask away.”
“Are the objects on your desk involved in what’s about to happen next?” She leaned against the edge of the couch, inadvertently crossing her legs.
“Yes, Charlotte” Declan stood from his chair and walked toward her. “These are instruments of pain and pleasure. While you may consider this a disciplinary action, it is more a ‘funishmment’ if you will. Punishment involves a set of measures to enforce rules. It is never pleasant. This on the other hand, should bring you some pleasure, even if it seems painful at the onset. Would you like me to discuss the rules with you before we commence your ‘funishment’?”
Charlotte took a step back in hesitation before answering him. “So are you certain this is necessary, Mr. Pearse?”
“Yes. You know it is.” He sighed. “Charlotte, we have been dancing around your transgression for a week or more. You need this. I need this. We both need this. It’s time. Now, I am willing to be generous this time since it is your first discipline from me, and allow you to choose which I will use on you. You may choose between the paddle or the whip, but the blindfold will be mandatory.
“WHAT?”
“Now, there’s no need to raise your voice, Charlotte.” He spoke calmly as he walked back over to the desk and stared intently at her. She had changed clothes from work. Her skirt was much shorter, and she wore a peacock colored button down. Her beautiful tresses sat in a high ponytail out of her face. Good. As much as I love her silky, long hair, it’s best it’s out of the way until it needs to be loose. “I’m waiting, Charlotte. You need to choose. In about thirty seconds, the offer will be off the table, and I will choose for you. Tell me. What will it be? Whip or paddle?”
“Paddle,” she said quickly. “I choose the paddle.”
“I figured as much.” Declan ran his fingers over the hard wood of the paddle. “Here are the rules, Ms. Flynn. First, I am not to be referred to as Declan and no longer as Mr. Pearse. I am Master when we are in this position and even in this home alone. Do I make myself clear?” At Charlotte’s nod, Declan contin
ued. “Second, until I declare that I am finished, you will do what I say as I say it. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. If I even catch a sense of resistance or hesitation, I will stop, and we will have to have a more severe punishment at a time of my choosing. Understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good. The final rule is very simple. You will not speak unless I’ve given you permission. If I hear a word out of you, and I have not given you permission, I will punish you as I see fit, in addition to the punishment you have already received. Do you understand, Charlotte?”
“Yes, Master.” Charlotte’s voice was a hushed whisper.
Declan then asked Charlotte for her safe word and began coaching her on how to rate her own ability to continue. He made a point of telling Charlotte he wasn’t going to go easy on her.
“So let’s have it. When you want me to stop what I am doing what word will you use?”
“Thirteen.”
“Thirteen it is.” Declan grabbed the paddle and the blindfold before walking back to her. “Time to begin. Strip,” he commanded.
Charlotte looked at him. “Master?”
“Undress now, Charlotte,” he answered coolly. “That’s the only time I will give the same command twice. Now get after it.”
Charlotte hesitated slightly before unbuttoning her shirt. Her fingers fumbled over the buttons, but soon a chaste white lace bra appeared. Declan felt his crotch tighten at the sight of her ample breasts straining against the confines of her bra. Charlotte reached behind to unzip her skirt, and it fell to the floor along with her shirt.
“Undergarments as well.”
He was in awe of Charlotte. Despite their many intimate moments, and the fact that he was certain he knew every inch of her body, she still managed to blush. She reached behind and undid the clasps on her bra. It fell away revealing her lush breasts. He resisted a smile as she began to remove her panties. Her body was a thing of beauty, and the way she stood made her pussy look like a beautiful, pale clamshell in need of opening. Declan walked over to her and stood behind her before tying the blindfold in place, cutting off her vision.
Push (Bound #1) Page 9
