by Tori Carson
Angela knew she was nestled in Brett’s arms and he was raining kisses along her cheek and forehead.
“I’m so proud of you, baby. You’re amazing. Thank you for trusting me.”
She didn’t know what she’d done to make him so happy, but she wanted to do it again and again. To be wrapped in his arms, feeling like this was a fantasy come true.
As he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed each finger, she realized how stiff her hands were, but she didn’t care. Brett was there making it all better and that was what mattered.
“Come back to me, baby. I need you.”
What? With Herculean effort she forced her eyes to open. Everything was fuzzy, but she turned toward Brett. She lifted her other hand to caress his cheek and was shocked that her arm weighed so much. Damn, she was tired, like she’d just run a marathon, tired.
“That’s my girl. Open your mouth, Angela.”
Mindlessly, she obeyed. Brett placed something on her tongue then applied pressure under her chin until she closed her mouth again.
Mmm, chocolate! Okay, I’ve died and this is heaven. A handsome angel sitting by my side. All that’s missing are my wings. And a halo. She giggled. Every girl needs a halo.
“I’ll be right back.”
No! Don’t leave me. She swung her arm to catch him and hold him to her, but her motions were too sluggish. Panic started to wipe away the haze. He couldn’t leave her. She was happy with him. He’d said he owned her orgasms, but he owned her smile too.
A tear ran down her cheek. She didn’t want to be alone.
“Open for me, Angela.”
He was back? Her eyes flew open. Damn, he was hot!
Brett’s hand was on her thigh pulling her leg to the side. Oh, God. No more! She couldn’t come again. Could she?
“Thank you, beautiful subbie.” Brett wiped her pussy with a warm, damp washcloth. “Sit up. You need to drink this.”
He was holding a glass to her lips. She tried to take it from him, but her hand was shaking too badly.
“I’ve got you, Angela. Let me take care of you.”
* * * * *
Brett had missed a meeting this morning. Completely forgot all about it. Angela was the only thing on his mind. He kept remembering how she’d looked at him as he’d forced her to orgasm the second and third times, how tight her pussy had been as he’d made love to her and how perfect it had felt to lie down beside her and slip off to sleep. Fuck! He was obsessed with her.
He glanced around his office. At one time this had been his world. Now it seemed cold and lonely.
After punching the intercom button, he waited for the familiar ping.
“Yes, Mr. Mercer?” his secretary, Jeanette, answered.
“Get Robert Griffith on the line and clear my calendar until Monday.”
“You’re speaking at the Chamber of Commerce dinner on Sunday. Do you want me to cancel that as well?”
Damn it! “No, thank you for reminding me. Let me know as soon as you have the senator on the line.”
Brett texted his decorator. He needed a truck and several able-bodied movers to pack and transport the remainder of Angela’s things to her new apartment.
Once that task was taken care of, he texted his subbie. I can’t stop thinking about you. Will you have lunch with me? If she wanted to, she could consider that a date and say no. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if she pulled that card on him. In addition to wanting to see her, he was worried about how she was mentally handling all that had transpired last night. Sub drop was a very real possibility. He’d pushed her pretty hard for someone so new to the lifestyle.
His cell phone vibrated. Opening it, he read Angela’s message. Sorry, I can’t today.
That’s bullshit. What the fuck? Call me when you have a moment, please. He texted back. A mix of worry and anger started boiling. A picture of Angela popped up a second before his phone started ringing. Knowing she wasn’t avoiding him allowed him to relax.
“Hi, Angela, thanks for calling. How are you doing?”
She laughed. “I’m being bad. I played hooky from work so I could pack.”
“You still need to eat. Do you want me to bring over a pizza?” Maybe this would work out better than he’d first thought.
“No,” she answered quickly. “But…we’re still on for dinner tonight, right?”
“Absolutely! I have the truck and the men lined up. What time do you want them over?” He clamped down on his runaway thoughts. She needed space. He could respect that, as long as she was okay.
“Any time after three will work.”
“You’re sure you’re okay? I’m free most of the afternoon. I could help you pack.” Okay the idea of being away from her sucked. It was one thing if she was working, but knowing that she was free and just didn’t want to be with him hurt.
“No. I’m fine…”
“But? That sounded like there was a ‘but’ afterward.” There was silence for thirty or forty seconds.
“I like you too much, Brett. I didn’t want you to leave this morning and that scares the hell out of me.” Her voice sounded distant and leery.
If he’d known she wasn’t going to work, he wouldn’t have left. Fuck! He couldn’t push her. She had to come to him of her own freewill. “Okay, Angela. It’s always your choice. But…I think you might be doing this wrong. You know the expression, ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’. Right?”
“Yes,” she chuckled. “I’ve heard it.”
“See—if you don’t want to grow fonder of me, then we should be together as much as possible. Then you can get sick of me and it won’t be a problem.” Damn, he sounded like a love-sick kid.
“There may be a few flaws in your theory because so far the more time I spend with you, the more time I want to spend with you. Besides, after eating my cooking tonight, you might decide keeping this strictly sexual is for the best.”
So she was considering taking this beyond pure sex? Brett silently fist pumped. “As you wish, Angela. We will be at your roommate’s place at three fifteen. Hon, you only need to pack your fragile things. These guys are professional. They can take care of the rest.”
“Oh, okay. I thought these were just a few buddies of yours.”
Fuck! That was the way he’d made it sound. He really didn’t like having to watch every word he said. “They’ve helped me with more projects than I can count. You don’t have anything to worry about. I promise.”
“No, Brett, that isn’t the problem. I just didn’t expect you to hire movers. It’s just a few pieces. I was hoping to just get a few friends, buy them some beer and call it good.” She sounded nearly panicked.
He needed to think on his feet to fix this one. She wouldn’t like him covering the cost. “They owe me a favor, Angela. I throw a lot of business their way. They don’t mind doing this for me and I’m happy to help you in any way I can. Can’t you just be happy and not worry so much about the fine details? This isn’t a big deal.”
Angela let out a long deep sigh. “I don’t like feeling indebted, Brett. There is no way for me to repay everything you’ve done for me.”
“I don’t see it that way at all, Angela. A Dom is supposed to take care of his sub and before you object…you made a huge concession when you agreed to scene exclusively with me. I know that was outside your comfort zone. Besides, I don’t believe in keeping score and if we were, the slate would be clean.”
“Thank you, Brett.”
“Mr. Mercer, Mr. Griffith is on line two,” Jeanette said through the intercom.
“I have to take this call, Angela. I’ll see you this afternoon. Take care, baby.” He hung up hoping she wouldn’t put two and two together. If she ever found out he was setting up an investigation into her ex-husband’s business deals, she’d be furious.
Brett was careful to keep the conversation vague. He didn’t want to prejudice the investigation, but he couldn’t just sweep his concerns under the rug either. People’s lives were being destroye
d, and measures needed to be taken to protect those unable to protect themselves.
Once he was assured the matter would be looked into, he headed out. After Angela had agreed to play exclusively, he’d asked his jeweler to create something special for her. He wanted something she could wear every day but that would be instantly identifiable by those in the lifestyle.
As he drove through the midday traffic, he tried to think of a way to enlighten Angela into the realities of his life without scaring her off. No matter what angle he looked at it from, it didn’t look good. His only hope was to show her through words and actions that he was nothing like her ex. Of course, there was an inherent flaw to his plan. Every ounce of trust he had gained would fly out the window once she learned he’d misled her. Fuck.
He pulled into a parking spot near the entrance eager to see the collar he’d commissioned.
“Mr. Mercer, it’s good to see you.” Emily took his hand in both of hers. “James is so anxious to show you what he’s created. He worked on it all night.”
Brett sensed there was a hint of censure in her tone, but he could understand that. His requests were often given with terrible deadlines. “I’m sure it’s superb.”
He was led to special viewing room. After the years of working with him, Emily and James knew Brett preferred his privacy. The last thing he needed was his picture in the papers and rumors flying around. While his name was well known, his face wasn’t. He’d done a pretty good job of staying out of the public eye and he wanted to keep it that way.
“Mr. Mercer.” James carried in an open satin-covered box. “Was this what you had in mind? It’s a six millimeter, twenty-four carat gold, wheat chain that latches with this heart-shaped locket. This is needed to remove the necklace.” He held up an ornate gold key. “I’ve engraved ‘Angela’ on the back.”
“It’s stunning, James. You’ve outdone yourself.” It was perfect. No mushy inscription that would send her running for the hills but personalized enough that she’d know he didn’t hand it out to every sub.
“Would you like it wrapped?” Emily asked, popping her head into the doorway.
“No, thank you. The box will be fine.”
“Is this for someone special?”
“Emily, you know better than to pry,” James admonished her.
“I’m sorry. I was just making conversation. I didn’t mean to be nosy.” Emily backtracked quickly.
“Charge the card you have on file and make sure you’re adequately compensated for working through the night.” Brett smiled at Emily, hoping to take a bit of the sting out of being reprimanded in front of him.
* * * * *
Angela had sure had a full day. Between packing, moving, shopping and cooking, she was a tired but excited too. She’d spent the day pining away for Brett. As soon as she’d told him not to bring lunch, she’d regretted it. Waiting those extra four hours until she saw him again had almost killed her. Still, she couldn’t allow herself to become emotionally dependent on Brett.
It was going to be an uphill fight though, since she always had fun when she was with him. Just looking at him made her smile. He’d spent the last twenty minutes sitting on the kitchen island like some big kid. While she was preparing dinner, they’d chatted about everything from current events to touchier subjects, yet with Brett it wasn’t an uncomfortable discussion. Even when they disagreed, the conversation was funny and amicable. It was sad to think she’d shared more intimate moments with Brett in the few days they’d been together than in the five years she’d spent with her ex.
Angela slid the pan into the oven and set the timer before turning to Brett and laying her hands on his thighs. “Okay, dinner will be up in about half an hour. What would you like to do until then?”
“Oh, I have many ideas, but none can be accomplished within that timeline. How ’bout we adjourn to the living room? I have something I want to discuss with you.”
She didn’t like the sound of that, but she went along with it anyway. “Okay.”
“Tomorrow, I’d like us to go to the club,” he informed her.
“Oh, sure. That works.” She was ridiculously happy that was all it was. And a little disappointed now that she thought about it. For some reason, the thought of playing at the club left her uneasy. Before it had been her safety net. Now it was…distracting. She didn’t want to share Brett’s attention or be concerned about other people being around.
It was unbelievable how quickly her feelings had changed. After a moment, Angela noticed Brett’s hand under her chin. He was staring straight into her eyes. She’d obviously missed something.
“Do I have your attention?”
Angela’s face flushed. She’d spent too long living in her head. She spaced out and didn’t even notice. “Yes, I’m sorry. I was just thinking about something.” Okay that sounded lame. Damn! Thankfully, he seemed not to notice.
“Tomorrow, while we’re at the club. I want you to wear my collar. We talked about that, remember?”
Something was off about Brett. Was he nervous? She wasn’t sure. “Yes, of course. I’ll be happy to.”
Brett walked over to his jacket, which he’d laid over a chair near the window. He pulled a box from the pocket and returned to his spot on the couch. Setting it on his lap, he took Angela’s hands in his. “I wanted something you could wear out in the ‘vanilla’ world…if you choose to. But it’s not mandatory.”
After she nodded, he opened the lid and turned it toward her.
She couldn’t help but stare. It was gorgeous. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t the beautiful piece of jewelry he held out to her. It was unlike any necklace she’d seen before. For one thing, there was no clasp. The ends were held together by the shackle of a heart-shaped lock.
Holy crap. If it was made from real gold, it had to cost a small fortune. He was either higher on the totem pole than she’d first thought or he’d devastated his savings. Shit.
Maybe this was his go-to collar that he gave to all his steady subs. As soon as the thought popped into her head, so did a hollow feeling in her stomach. Although she needed to keep a handle on their relationship, she also wanted to think she was special to him…just not this over the top, blow your life savings kind of special.
“Now is the time to say ‘thank you’ and try it on.” Brett sounded more amused than put off.
Angela smiled. “Yes, I’m sorry. Thank you. I’m just surprised. It’s beautiful. Too beautiful. I don’t think I can accept it.” She sounded like a two-year-old, unable to create a complete sentence. She smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand.
Brett pulled the collar from the box and turned it around. “Well you have to accept it. It has your name on it.”
The air rushed her lungs. Holy, fucking, shit! Tears sprang to her eyes and she realized all the trouble he’d gone to for her. She couldn’t think of what to say so she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, hoping she could convey her emotions that way. She was being a horrible person and sending him mixed signals, but she couldn’t help it. Her feelings for him were mixed up.
Brett wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back with matched enthusiasm. When they were both in need of air, he pulled away the slightest bit. “I guess that means you accept my collar.”
“Yes and thank you.” She knew that collaring was a big deal, but since he was only demanding she wear it at the club, she assumed it was technically only a play collar. Those weren’t normally so ornate and tended to be more functional, but she wasn’t going to nit-pick his gift.
Angela lifted her hair. Brett placed the gold chain around her neck and clicked the lock into place. She was so conflicted. The weight of it was comforting, but the possible meaning behind it terrified her.
Brett turned the box over and slid open a compartment. “Now we have to decide what to do with the key.”
Her stomach did that odd flipping sensation that she’d found only Brett could cause. “Um, why don�
��t you hold on to it?” An expression flashed across Brett’s face that Angela couldn’t quite put a name to, but it made her all warm inside.
“If you’re sure, I’d be happy to.” He put the key in his wallet. “Come here.”
Brett opened his arms and she flew into them. “What kind of protocols do you expect me to follow at the club?” she asked. It was so much easier to discuss this stuff when she was wrapped in his arms and sitting on his lap. She felt safe and able to face anything.
“That’s for us to decide.” He cupped his palm against the back of her neck.
“I’m not comfortable without clothes on. Even in the more secluded areas, people are always walking by.” While she waited for his response, she played with a button on his shirt. Somehow she couldn’t see him giving her an ultimatum, but if he did she wasn’t sure how she’d handle it.
“Why?” he asked casually, without a hint of recrimination.
“I’m not an exhibitionist.” She snuggled a little deeper against his shoulder. “I don’t want everyone and their brother to see me naked. I know it’s silly.”
“You know you’re incredibly beautiful, right?” He lifted her chin until they were looking at each other.
She shrugged. “Well, I don’t think I would frighten anyone.” She chuckled nervously. “That isn’t the problem. I’m just not comfortable being exposed like that.”
“Is my subbie shy?” He smiled down at her.
“Maybe a little,” she conceded.
“If you’re sure this isn’t a self-image issue, then I have no problem playing in a privacy room.” He looked into her eyes. “I’d planned on reserving one anyway so we could try wax play. Would you like that?”
He’d listened. Her hand moved involuntarily to his collar around her neck. “I’d like that.” Maybe she was being a big wuss. “You don’t mind, do you? Am I being a pain?”
Brett laughed. “No, Angela. I don’t mind at all. If you decide you don’t want to play at the club, we can work that out too. It will just take a little ingenuity to create our own playroom.”
