by Jenna Jacob
This was just stupid. I could do anything I set my mind to. I was a strong, capable woman. Pining over some man a ghost delivered in my dreams was asinine. I needed to get my shit together and start living my life without that infernal club.
Picking at the deceptively delicious-looking crust of my dinner, a knock came from the door. I wasn’t expecting anyone, but dread rippled in my belly fearing it might be Drake. Swinging the door open, I was surprised to find Mistress Sammie wearing a long ivory sweater that concealed her fetish wear. A tight, humorless smile stretched over her red, glossy lips.
“Sammie? Errr...come in, please,” I stammered. “What’s wrong? Is Drake okay?”
“Drake is fine. Maybe you should talk to him when he calls and find out for yourself.” Her words were short and clipped. “Get dressed. I’ve come to haul your ass to the club.”
I blinked, speechless.
Sammie snapped her fingers. “Hurry up. I don’t have a lot of time. I left James tending the bar, and that’s a sure recipe for disaster. The man knows nothing about working my bar.”
“Sammie, I’m sorry you came all the way over here, but I’m not going to the club tonight. Please tell Drake that...”
She cut me off, holding her palm toward my face.
“Drake didn’t send me to get you, Mika did. Now get your ass upstairs and get dressed.”
Mika? My mouth dropped open. “Mika? Why?”
“Go get some clothes on, girl.” She smiled, softening her gruff demeanor.
Panic blossomed in the pit of my stomach as a tingling numbness pumped through my bloodstream. “I can’t. Please tell him I was busy. I wasn’t home. Tell him...”
“I am not about to lie to Mika for you or anyone else,” she hissed, cutting me off in mid-sentence. “The man is a saint, and I would never disrespect him in such a way. Now, you march your little ass to your room and put some fucking clothes on. You’ve got ten minutes to get yourself together, or I’ll haul you out that door naked!”
For such a petite woman, she packed a lumberjack punch of authority.
“Why does Mika want to see me? Why didn’t he just call?” I asked in defiance.
“You’re trying my patience, young lady. You really don’t want to do that,” Sammie warned as she placed her tiny hand on her slim hip. “Move!”
She took a warning step toward me. I yelped then turned and scurried up the stairs to my room.
Tearing open the door to my closet, I grabbed a black silk gown. Digging out a pair of heels, I had stripped and dressed in a matter of seconds. Rushing to the bathroom, I looked in the mirror. My face was flushed, and I trembled at the absolute panic reflected in my eyes.
“What the fuck are you doing, Julianna?” I whispered at my image. My heart thundered in my ears. “Calm down. Don’t be an idiot. It has to be something to do with Jordon, err...Dennis. Pull yourself together. He doesn’t want to see you. Not the submissive you. Maybe Genesis is pressing charges because of the attack and he wants you to sign something.”
Scolding myself for the seeds of hope taking root in my heart, I tried to calm the anxiety crawling beneath my skin. Quickly dabbing on some makeup, I turned and scurried down the stairs. Sammie was waiting for me on the porch, holding the front door wide open.
“Get in the truck,” Sammie ordered without looking back.
“I can drive myself.”
Spinning on her spike-heeled boots, she shot me an angry glare. “I was told to drive you. Now get in the truck,” she growled.
I climbed in and slammed the passenger door. I was pissed. Pissed that I was being treated with indifference by Sammie. Pissed at being carted off in the night and expected to appear just because I was summoned. Pissed that Mika didn’t have the balls to call me himself and discuss whatever this was about. Setting my lips in a tight rebellious line, I huffed in annoyance. The man had nerve. What ego. What gall.
“So tell me, Sammie. Just who is Mika? Is he the Lord Alpha Dom of the planet? Is he the great and powerful Oz? I mean, honestly. He yells at Drake, orders him around like he’s some kind of minion, and now he’s sent you to pick me up, to run his errand like I’m his dry cleaning or something. Who the hell is this guy? Better yet, why do you Dominants so readily submit to him?”
Sammie gripped the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turned white. Her nostrils flared and her jaw ticked. “I’m going to dismiss your insolent tone this once, but if you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut your piehole and drop the sarcastic tone now. Every lifestyler in this community owes a huge debt of thanks to Mika for providing us Genesis. He’s the one taking all the risks to ensure we kinky folks have a safe place to realize our dreams. You think it’s easy to keep a club like that open? You think it’s easy to keep the holier-than-thou religious fanatics, the cops, or the press from swooping down like a swarm of locusts and shutting it all down? Where do you think we would go if we didn’t have Genesis? Nowhere. There’s not another club like it within a two hundred mile radius. And if you were any kind of submissive worth your salt, you’d realize that without having it spelled out to you, girl!”
“Yeah, well, I’m not a submissive anymore. So I guess you spelling it out was necessary,” I snapped right back.
Sammie slammed her foot on the brake, pulled to the curb, and shoved the truck into park. She whipped her head and looked at me with eyes wider than I imagined possible.
“What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean you’re not a submissive? If you’re not a submissive, I’m a fucking nun.” She sighed heavily and frowned. “Why, for one New York minute, do you think you’re not a sub?”
“It’s been four years, Sammie. The only Dominant I’ve had a chance to spend time with turned out to be a sadistic wannabe that flayed me open before he tried to rape me. I’m so fucking undesirable, I couldn’t turn a Dom’s head if it were on a spring!”
“You don’t know shit! Not turn a Dom’s head?” She choked out a strangled laugh. “Honey, there’s an ass load of Dom’s who wouldn’t think twice about tossing their subs aside if they thought they could have you.”
“Bullshit!” I spat, rolling my eyes.
“It’s not bullshit. And don’t talk to me like that or I’ll beat your ass so hard you won’t sit for a month.”
“Oh yeah, they’re all lining up every night holding up numbers. I have to push my way through the hordes of Dominants wringing their hands just waiting for me to bow down and submit to them. Sorry, Sammie, but you’re on crack.”
“God, what I’d give for a ball gag right now,” Sammie growled, flashing me a furious look. “Just because they’re not pawing all over you doesn’t mean they don’t want you. You have no idea how many times Drake’s been approached by Dominants interested in you. And he’s not turning them away because of your lack of submission. It’s because he knows none of them have the backbone to keep you in line. None of them are strong enough to handle you. Like it or not princess, you’re a wee bit hardheaded.”
I growled, and she tossed me a condescending grimace.
“Shut it,” Sammie growled right back at me. “The only reason Jordon, the weaselly little fuckknuckle, was even allowed to spend time with you was because you ran out on Drake when he told you to wait for him at the bar. He realized he was holding on to you too tightly. He wasn’t allowing you to grow. So he eased up and let that fucktard...well, Drake’s still kicking his own ass for what happened.”
A wave of guilt swamped me behind an even bigger wave of anger. “He’s been doing what? Keeping Doms away from me? What the fuck? He thinks none of them could handle me? Just how the hell would he know? He never let any of them try!”
“Oh, get over yourself.” Sammie rolled her eyes.
“No. That just proves my point now, doesn’t it? Obviously, I’m too high maintenance for any Dom to handle me! And after four years, there never will be. So why even bother? Why keep searching for someone and something that’s never going to come? Why waste my t
ime? And if Drake’s so goddamn protective of me, why didn’t he come drag me to the club himself?”
“Christ. You want a Dom handed to you on a fucking silver platter, is that it? As for Drake, I’d hazard it’s because you’ve been lying to him for about two fucking weeks. And he’s so pissed by the way you’re treating him, he doesn’t trust himself not to beat your ass bloody!”
I closed my eyes and hung my head as guilt gnawed through me. I was so wrapped up in my own self-pity I’d repeatedly lied to Drake just to save face. I’d lied to my best friend assuming he wouldn’t understand how devastated I’d been at Mika’s parting words.
“You’re going to have to make some serious heartfelt apologies to him. You’ve hurt his feelings. I mean deeply hurt his feelings. And that pisses me off, Miss Thing. I thought you two were friends. A friend doesn’t shit on someone the way you did. He’s been the best thing that ever happened to you and you damn well know it.”
Sammie’s lecture made me feel two inches tall. She was on a roll, and I knew better than to interrupt her now.
“I know all about your past. I know all about the hell you went through with that wannabe Dom when you first started exploring the lifestyle. And let me tell you something, Drake loves you as much as he loves Trevor. That’s not something you throw away. He most definitely doesn’t deserve you kicking him to the curb just because you’re in the throes of a pissy little temper tantrum.”
Feeling broken every way imaginable, I wanted to open the door and fling myself from the truck. Anger. Guilt. Embarrassment. Every ugly, worthless emotion I’d been trying to wash away over the past two weeks came flooding back with a vengeance.
“Just take me back home, Sammie. I can’t do this anymore. I’m sick to death of constantly fucking up my life and everyone else’s, too. I’ll find a way to apologize to Drake. And I’ll find a way to deal with all these other shitty emotions swirling inside me. You’re right. Drake has never been anything but golden to me, and all I’ve managed to do is hurt the one person who means the world to me.”
“I’m not taking you home, Julianna. I’m not giving you an easy out. But I will give you some advice. Haul your ass off the pity pot and start putting into practice all the training and knowledge you’ve learned, everything Drake has painstakingly taught you. You owe him that much. At least you should.” She pulled the truck from the curb, and we rode the rest of the way to the club in silence.
Sammie parked in the back lot, behind the building.
“We’ll go in this way.”
I followed her to a small metal door. She punched in a code and the lock disengaged. Without a single word, I followed her inside.
“Go up those stairs. Tony will be waiting for you.” Then she turned and walked away.
“Great,” I mumbled under my breath as I climbed the stairs, the same stairs Drake had carried me up the last time I was at Genesis. The night my world crumbled.
I encountered another door, this one locked, so I hesitantly knocked and waited.
The door swung open. “Hey, Emerald. How are you feeling?” Tony asked with concern in his eyes.
“Wonderful, thank you,” I lied. “Is Mika in?”
“Yes.” He nodded toward an ornately carved door. “I need to go check on some things downstairs.”
Of course you do. I stood staring at the intricately scrolled door. Glancing up, I spied a small camera mounted above the frame. Cocking my head, I glared at the lens. I placed one hand on my hip, and balled my other hand into a fist as I pounded on the door and waited. And waited. And waited. Impatient, I nibbled my bottom lip and looked back up into the camera’s lens.
“Well, I’m here. Just like you commanded, oh great and powerful Oz. Open the damn door!” Still nothing.
I knocked again, this time harder than before. Still nothing.
“Open up!” I cried, annoyed at the stupid pointless game Mika was playing.
“Fuck this!” I spun on my heel, turning the knob on the door I had arrived through. I found it was locked.
“Seriously?” I whipped back around to look at the camera. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
I was at Mika’s mercy.
“Really? You brought me all the way down here to make me stand outside your door.” I folded my arms across my chest in rebellion. “Fine! I’ll stand here until you grow some balls and open the goddamn door. And since I’m not a submissive anymore, I’ll just stand here and wait your ass out!”
My feet ached in my uncomfortable heels as I waited for what seemed like hours. I issued a low, feral growl and sat down. Staring at the scrolled design on the massive door, I wondered when or if Mika would decide to open it.
For a man so anxious to talk that he’d sent Sammie to fetch me, he sure wasn’t fired up to start a conversation. I waited hour after pointless hour. Finally fed up with the whole game, I laid down on the plush, soft carpet where I eventually drifted off to sleep.
She was back. Vanessa hadn’t haunted my dreams since I’d met Mika. As she floated before me, I wanted to wish her away, to take back control over my dreams.
“You can’t wish me away any more than you can wish away what you truly are. He can’t wish you away or what he is, either. Open your heart. Embrace your desires. He needs you more than you realize, more than he can comprehend. I’ve done all I can for now. You’ll have to do the rest. If you want it bad enough, you’ll figure it out.”
“Come on girl. It’s time to go.” Sammie shook me from the confusing dream.
“What?” I felt disoriented. “What time is it?”
“Three thirty. The club’s closed. I need to take you home now.”
“But...Mika. He didn’t open the door.”
Sammie issued a slight shrug then helped me to my feet. Disbelief flooded my veins. He’d kept me waiting all damn night and never opened the stupid door. Glaring at the camera, I wanted to spit on its lens.
“I hope you enjoyed yourself. I had a dandy time. We’ll have to do this again real soon. Maybe in another fucking lifetime. Buh-bye.” Sarcasm rolled off my tongue, thick and bitter.
“Now!” Sammie ordered.
I could tell she’d run out of patience with me. Well join the damn club, lady. My patience had long run out as well.
The drive home was quiet. I was stewing in a boiling pot of anger. Why had Mika yanked me out into the night only to leave me sitting outside his mighty throne? What was the purpose of it? What was he trying to prove? Did he get his jollies manipulating me? I was at a complete loss.
As Sammie pulled into the driveway, she put the truck in park and turned to me. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at six thirty. Be ready.”
“Don’t bother. I’m not going back there. I’m never going back.” I scrambled out of the truck, slamming the door and stomping toward my house.
Sammie ignored my words. “Be ready tomorrow at six thirty or I’ll drag you out by your hair. Don’t piss me off. You won’t like it.”
CHAPTER NINE
Yeah, well if I’m not home, you can’t pick me up, now can you? I slammed the front door to my house and let loose my rage with a bloodcurdling scream. Racing up the stairs to my room, I tore off my clothes and shoes then threw myself onto the bed as fury bubbled in my veins. Burying my face in the pillow, I cried myself to sleep.
Sunlight poured in through the curtains. I looked at the clock and groaned. Nine thirty. Great. Reminding myself how far behind I was with work, I took a quick shower then began digging through the mountains of paperwork.
Glancing at the clock, I blinked, so focused on work I’d lost track of time. It was five forty-five, and my stomach issued an empty growl.
“Sorry Sammie, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to subject myself to another night of humiliation and boredom for a man who gets his rocks off watching me sleep.” I grabbed my purse and stormed out the house.
Pulling into the parking lot of Maurizio’s, I looked at the clock. It was six o’clock. A
pang of guilt rent through my veins as I closed my eyes. Screaming in frustration at my own weakness, I threw the car in reverse and drove back home, cursing the entire way.
Standing near the front door, dressed once again in a long gown and uncomfortable high heels, I peeked through the curtain as Sammie pulled into the driveway. Slamming the front door behind me, I walked solemnly to her truck.
“Let’s go,” I growled in disgust.
“What did you learn last night?”
“Umm, let’s see...his carpet is very soft and plush.”
The pasted-on smile I flashed obviously didn’t impress Sammie as all she did was stomp the gas pedal and flip me off.
“It’d be nice if he’d at least leave a pillow and blanket, maybe even a bedtime story. Does he seriously think a solitary slumber party is a flipping picnic for me?”
“Is that all you learned? That the carpet was soft and you think he’s enjoying this?”
“What else am I supposed to learn, Sammie? I was all alone, just me, myself, and I. The three of us aren’t really that interesting conversationalists, you know. If the great and powerful Oz would open the fucking door, then maybe I’d have a chance to learn whatever the fuck it is I’m supposed to. Maybe I should just click my heels three times and say, ‘there’s no place like home.’ Would he open the goddamn door then? Or maybe I need a broomstick. Yeah, that’s what I need, the Wicked Witch of the West’s broomstick. Then I can shove it up his ass!”
“Oh, girl. You have no idea how badly I want to slap you. Keep it up and you’ll be sitting outside his door for months!”
