Taken

by Jennifer Dawson

  His expression flickers. “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I could pretend it was for your education, but it’s not the truth.” He puts his hands into his pockets. “I didn’t want to wait until Monday to see you.”

  “Why didn’t you ask me yourself?”

  “Because I wanted you to feel like you could say no.”

  “Oh.” I go and try to leave, but find myself returning to him. “Thank you, for tonight. For everything.”

  “You’re welcome.” His gaze roams my features, sliding over my cheeks and lips and neck like a caress. “I’ll see you Monday. It’s a big day.”

  I can’t make my feet move. It’s like they are cemented in concrete. “I don’t think I want to leave.”

  He steps closer to me. “I don’t think I want you to leave.”

  I clear my throat. “So Monday?”

  He nods. “Monday.”

  When I don’t move, he comes even closer and it’s like all my cells come alive. “Go, Veronica.”

  “I’m going.” I don’t even twitch.

  “I’m not going to kiss you. No matter how much your body is begging me.”

  “All right.”

  One hand slides out of his pocket, lifts, and curls around my neck.

  My heart quickens.

  His fingers trace along my shoulder and slide down my spine. My knees actually tremble. Down my back he goes, his touch hot. I gasp as his palm comes to rest on the curve of my spine.

  “Your skin is soft.” His voice is gruff.

  I nod.

  “You’re shaking.”

  “Yes.” Not from fear, but because I want him that much.

  “I’m not going to kiss you.” He leans closer, close enough to see the shards of electric white in his eyes, lit like bolts of lightning. “But I can bite you.”

  My lips part on an intake of breath.

  He takes full advantage, swooping down and capturing my lower lip with his teeth. His tongue flickers over the damp flesh and I feel it everywhere. From the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

  Back and forth his tongue strokes.

  I clutch at his arm as my knees go weak.

  He releases me and when I sway, he clasps my waist and holds me steady. He lifts his head. “Good night, Veronica.”

  “Good night, Brandon.” My tone is practically panting, revealing my desperateness.

  He squeezes my waist, his fingers shift through strands of my hair, and then he steps away. He opens the car door. “Go.”

  I climb in, and he closes the door, patting the top of the car to signal the driver.

  The tips of my fingers brush over my mouth, the feel of his teeth lingering.

  Like a brand.

  * * *

  Brandon

  Veronica texts me at three in the morning and I’m not even surprised. Not surprised to find she’s still awake, unable to sleep. Because I have been lying here, staring at my ceiling for hours. Not even jerking off alleviated the ache. The lust.

  I don’t know the last time that happened. Maybe never. At least not with any woman I can actually recall. And I’m pretty sure I will remember standing at the bottom of my stairs, my arm wrapped around her, listening to her panting, needy breaths for the rest of my life.

  It worries me. My reaction to her worries me. Her reaction to me worries me.

  Even though I should, I can’t stop from answering her. I read her text. I can’t sleep.

  Tell me why. I answer her as a dominant, too tired to rein it in.

  My phone chimes. I can’t stop thinking about the things you said to me.

  Good. Because it is good. I want her to think about them. Want her to be distracted by the things I want to do to her.

  That’s not helpful.

  I can’t help but smile into the darkness because her response fills me with a hope I have no right to, or want any part of. It’s a girl’s response. That’s the only way I can describe it. What would you like me to do about it?

  Her response is almost immediate. Make it stop.

  I am walking a very dangerous line here. I war with what’s right and my more base desires. Have you touched yourself?

  No!!!!!

  I laugh. Such a girl. Touch yourself until you come. That will help.

  Thirty seconds goes by before she responds. I can’t.

  Why?

  Because I’m afraid.

  My cock stirs, and I slide my hand to grasp my shaft. What are you afraid of?

  That it will make it worse.

  I groan. God she is driving me out of my fucking mind. The amount of willpower I’ve expended over the course of the evening is more than I’ve required in an entire year. It wasn’t too long ago a naked, writhing girl lying on the floor, begging me, didn’t make me think twice about resisting her.

  Unlike tonight, when I have never worked so hard not to kiss someone. Because it was work. And sadly, it was that, that stopped me. Because I didn’t think I could stop. I blow out a breath and type out, It will make it worse. But it will also make it better.

  Okay. That one little word says everything.

  I resisted laying my mouth on her—well, kind of—but I don’t resist the impulse that comes over me. And, Veronica, when I see you Monday morning, the first thing I’m going to think is that you came for me.

  A full minute passes before her text. Why did I even text you?

  That’s easy.

  Why?

  Because you couldn’t help yourself.

  Good night, Brandon!

  Good night, Veronica.

  Grinning, I put the phone on the nightstand and I can’t deny, right or wrong, I’m feeling much better.

  10

  Veronica

  I’m at brunch with Brandon’s friends’ significant others, and I can only sit back and watch them, marveling at their easy manner. I’ve never had friends like this, and I’m fascinated. They are all sunshine and laughter and support. Their affection toward each other obvious.

  I want to be part of them. To understand what it feels like to view women as confidants versus competition. There’s talk of weddings and brides and flowers as we sip mimosas. Even if nothing happens with Brandon, I’m thankful to have been given the chance to be a part of something I’ve been craving for as long as I can remember.

  My phone goes off and I look down, my heart surging that it might be Brandon, only to see a text from Winston. I need to talk to you.

  With a frown, I darken my cell and return to the table. He’s getting more insistent and once again I contemplate if I should talk to him in hopes he’ll stop.

  “Is everything okay?” Jillian’s voice has my head lifting.

  I put a bright smile on my face. “Yes, thanks, everything’s great.”

  “You sure?” Her head tilts. Her hair is in a ponytail this morning and the dark mass swings.

  I wave a hand. “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “Good.” Jillian nods before her expression turns sly and she looks at Ruby and Layla. “So, girls, what do you think we should get Veronica to wear for the party Thursday?”

  Layla grins and looks me up and down. “Hmmm… Everything will look good on her.”

  I laugh. “Thanks, not true, but thank you.”

  Ruby shakes her head. “Let’s round her out with the rest of us.”

  “Ohhh.” Jillian nods. “I like that idea.”

  The inclusion warms me. I can’t help it, my grin widens. “I have no idea what I’m in store for, so I have no choice but to leave it in your hands.”

  Jillian picks up her flute and takes a sip. “Brandon said to have Monique put it on his account, so money is no object.”

  Surprise has me straightening in my chair. “Oh, that’s not necessary.”

  “But it is.” Jillian winks at me. “It’s for work after all.”

  I decide not to fight her on it. I’ll just pay when I get there. Instead I say, “We’ll see.”

  Layla says, “I’m
wearing pink, Jilly you’re in red, and Ruby is in black, of course. So that leaves white.”

  Ruby looks me up and down. “White would be perfect.”

  “But we have to make it heart stopping,” Jillian says. “Because Brandon needs to sweat.”

  My cheeks heat and I hold up my hands. “You’ve misunderstood, there’s nothing between Brandon and me.”

  All three of them laugh.

  I feel exposed, and I deny too vehemently. “I swear. It’s business. I’m his employee. Nothing more. Nothing less.” Last night speeds through my head as though in fast forward, ending with his teeth sinking into my lower lip, and then later, much later, when I’d stupidly texted him before slipping my fingers between my legs.

  Layla pats my arm. “Veronica, we’ve all known Brandon a long time, and trust us, we know only business when we see it.”

  Ruby squirms a little in her chair. “He’s smitten.”

  “And we’re all really excited about it,” Jillian adds.

  It’s such a preposterous word to describe him my mouth falls open. “He is not.”

  “But he is.” Layla leans over the table and mock whispers, “He couldn’t take his eyes off you. I’ve never seen him look at anyone like that before.”

  I can’t help it, a type of girlish excitement I’ve never experienced before rushes over me, heating me all over. Because I want to be different. I don’t want to be someone he’s merely attracted to, but something unusual. I want to change him. Like he’s changing me. “I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”

  Jillian shakes her head. “I can assure you, we’re not.”

  Ruby shrugs one shoulder. “So it’s our job to make sure he suffers.”

  I cover my face with my hands and a little laugh escapes. “I want to be professional.”

  “Honey,” Layla says, patting my back. “You’re going to a fetish party. There’s nothing professional about it.”

  I raise my head. “I don’t even know what a fetish party is.”

  Jillian raises her glass like she’s toasting me. “That’s what we’re here for. To teach you all about it.”

  Ruby gives me a soft smile. “And don’t worry, I’ve only been to a couple, we can be newbies together.”

  “So what are your questions?” Jillian asks.

  I blow out a hard breath. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “We’ll help you sort it out.” Layla circles her hand around the table. “To start with, always remember you don’t have to participate. You can just watch. Only try not to judge what you see, even if it surprises you.”

  “Okay.” That sounds like an easy enough start.

  “And if you see something that worries you, tell one of Brandon’s people and let them take care of it.” Ruby laughs. “I once made the mistake of thinking something was wrong, but the girl just really wanted to be beaten.”

  I blanch. “Beaten?”

  Ruby grimaces right along with me. “I had to turn away, but Chad and Brandon assured me it was all consensual.”

  I can’t help but ask the question. “So, does this mean, all of you?”

  They all nod.

  Well, isn’t this a strange new world I’ve entered. I clear my throat, hoping to practice my cool. “Are you the dominant one or the submissive one?”

  This makes them all howl with laughter. Belatedly, after meeting their men, the notion that those males might be the submissive ones is ridiculous.

  Jillian waves a finger around the three friends. “We’re all submissive.”

  Layla grins at her future sister-in-law. “You should try and order Leo around a little and see what happens.”

  This causes a fresh batch of hysterics. Jillian wipes under her lashes. “I’m going to try it and tell him it was your idea.”

  Layla huffs. “And have Michael take it out on me, no way!”

  I wrinkle my nose, really tying together their familial relationship. “Isn’t that awkward? Considering you’re siblings?”

  Jillian and Layla shrug at each other, before shaking their heads.

  Jillian speaks first. “It was at first, but we got used to it. The rules are we are open about it, but if we’re together, anything sexual happens in separate corners.”

  “How does that work?” This is fascinating, and they are all so free, it’s hard not to appease my curiosity.

  Layla laughs. “It means we get into trouble frequently, but that beyond the basics, we are dealt with separately.”

  Ruby huffs. “Which really gives them an unfair advantage. I can get dealt with anywhere, anytime. It’s so annoying.”

  I swallow. “Dealt with?”

  Jillian gives me a once over, her hazel eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’ll see. I mean, it’s not like we’ll go a whole night without someone getting punished.”

  They all giggle like they’ve got some sort of plan.

  “Punished?” The word kind of sticks in my throat.

  Ruby leans forward. “It’s much better than it sounds. It’s hard to explain. To be honest, I was a very reluctant submissive.”

  “Very reluctant.” Jillian rolls her eyes. “That’s putting it mildly. She was deep into it and still kicking and screaming the whole way.”

  I don’t understand any of this, but I understand to some extent they are all clueing me into an aspect of Brandon’s life I have no understanding of, and by sharing their experiences they are giving me knowledge without making me have to ask the direct question. So, I might as well take advantage. I shift my attention to Ruby. “Why did you do it then?”

  Ruby wrinkles her nose. “Well, I liked it. I just didn’t want to admit I liked it. You make these discoveries about yourself, and they are uncomfortable.”

  Jillian grins at me. “But orgasmic.”

  Layla winks. “If you’re allowed to come, that is.”

  My head practically spins and I have so many questions I don’t even know where to start. “It’s hard to understand.”

  “True, but I have a feeling you’ll find out soon enough.” Jillian touches my arm. “Just remember, on Thursday it’s okay if you’re uncomfortable. It sounds weird, but it’s kind of the point.”

  I decide to focus on that, and not on her presumption about Brandon and me. They are confirming what Brandon said last night, and I’m not even close to being able to wrap my head around it. Instead, I focus on the party, which looms on the horizon like a big unknown. “I don’t understand.”

  “Pushing your boundaries, embracing what scares you is part of why we do it in the first place. But don’t feel obligated. It’s certainly not for everyone. Brandon will want to make sure you’re comfortable enough not to react negatively when you see something extreme. Which you’re bound to see at a fetish party where everyone is out there to be seen.” Jillian laughs. “And honestly, compared to a lot of people we’re kind of tame.”

  “I suppose that’s some sort of reassurance.”

  Ruby tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “The most important thing to remember is that it’s consensual, something that I remind myself on the regular.”

  Layla nods. “Yes, but if you see something that doesn’t feel right to you, make sure you let one of the monitors know so they can check it out and assess the situation.”

  “Monitors?” I ask.

  “Brandon has people who are watching to make sure everyone is safe,” Jillian says.

  “That’s good to know.” Although it brings me no sense of relief. In fact, the more they talk, the more nervous I become about what I’m getting into. Not that I’m about to let that stop me.

  Ruby picks up her flute and downs the rest of her drink. “I wish this wasn’t the first party. Next month is a schoolgirl theme, which is a lot more fun and playful than the latex scene. I still have a hard time when I see people covered in head-to-toe rubber and zipper masks.”

  My eyes go wide in shock.

  Jillian laughs and wiggles her finger in a circle. “I think this is the r
eaction he’s trying to avoid.”

  I cover my face with my hands and hang my head. “Oh god, I’m sorry!”

  “Don’t be! It’s totally normal.” She snaps her fingers. “Here’s what you do, when you get home Google latex fetish and look at all the images for an hour. That should give you a good idea what to expect and help relax you and get you used to what you’ll see.”

  “I will.” Knowledge is power.

  Layla smiles at me. “The gist is there’s as many flavors to BDSM as there are ice cream, but when there’s a party everyone is a bit more out there.”

  “Good to know.”

  Ruby holds out her glass to the waitress for a refill. “As a fellow newcomer, the best advice I can give you is to go with the flow, relax and have fun. Pay attention to what you like and what you hate and save it for further analysis when you’re not working.” She crumples up her napkin.

  They all nod in unison.

  I finger the neckline of my top, a camel-colored, silky spaghetti-strapped number I’d paired with jeans. “I’ve never been to a fetish party before, thanks for helping me figure out what to expect.”

  “We’ve all been there, not too long ago.” Jillian waves at Layla. “Except for Layla, she’s been a slut forever.”

  “Hey!” Layla hits Jillian on the arm before winking at me. “Although it’s true. I was introduced to it back in college by my first fiancé.”

  My brows furrow. First? I don’t know her well enough to ask for an elaboration but she must read the confusion on my face because her expression dims a touch before she smiles softly. “I was engaged to my college boyfriend, but he died shortly before our wedding.”

  My heart instantly squeezes for her. “I’m so sorry. That must have been terrible.”

  “It was.” She shrugs. “It almost killed me, but it led me to Michael instead.”

  Ruby squeezes her friend’s hand. “And we are grateful for that.”

  Layla peers off in the distance before her vision comes back into focus. “Anyway, regardless, we were all new at one time. Since you will be working in some official capacity, I think the important thing for you is to act very casual about whatever you see.”