Beautiful Nightmare

by Bella Juarez

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” This woman made him irrational. He completely lost his composure and stalked to where she stood, grabbed her arms, and shook her. “I asked you a fucking question! Answer me!”

  Watching her transform, he felt her angry heat but, being past rational thought, was not prepared for her response when she jerked herself free. He felt the sting of her hand connecting with his cheek before he realized she’d moved. The force behind the slap startled him.

  “What the fuck are you doing here? And how in hell did you get into this room?” she asked in a controlled, demanding growl.

  “I’m meeting someone here and planning on telling them to fuck off. For you. But I can’t see telling a woman who actually wants me to fuck off for one who doesn’t,” he countered.

  Instantly, her expression changed, and she didn’t seem so controlled anymore.

  “Let me see it.” She held out her hand.

  “See what?”

  “Don’t play games with me. You’re not that fucking good at it. If you really belong here, hand it to me.” She shook her outstretched hand.

  He suddenly understood what she meant. He took out the broken half of a mitzvah he’d sent the woman he’d be meeting. On Monday, he’d had it made, broken, and sent half to the service to give to his date as a token of his sincerity. The small plate was meant to be a signal to her, signifying she’d been his intended, and a romantic gesture to demonstrate his commitment. After his tryst with Tasha on Tuesday, he’d forgotten all about it. He watched in astonishment when she dug into her jacket pocket and took out a small silver plate engraved in Hebrew with a verse from Song of Solomon. I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine.

  When she pieced the two halves together, her hands shook, and he couldn’t help but shiver, too. He reeled at the implications of this meeting. How could this happen? Of all the women in the world who would respond to the demands of his one-night stand, how the hell did he draw her? He didn’t care anymore. Nothing in the cosmos could separate them. There were things she had to agree to in order to meet him here. Understanding her the way he did, he found it hard to believe she’d do some of the things he’d necessitated easily.

  “There are stipulations in our arrangement, which aren’t negotiable. Are you prepared to accept them? All of them?” he asked.

  Tasha closed her hand around the delicate silver plates, slipped them into her jacket pocket then met his gaze. She stepped closer to him. He had to stop himself from taking a step away from her when her eyes narrowed. He’d seen her dangerous expression just before she went in for the kill on a deal. How many times had her tigress expression turned him on?

  She grabbed his throat and clamped down. The firm grip took him by surprise. To his astonishment, a tremor of excitement ran through him when she clenched harder. Maliciousness crept over her, and her lips thinned, sending a tingle down his spine.

  “You forget who you’re talking to. I’m the one you send out to do the dirty work for your company, remember? Everything is negotiable, and you’ll learn what I will or will not accept. If you don’t, be prepared to suffer the consequences…pet.”

  Chapter Five

  “What’s your safe word?”

  The sudden demand and turn of the tables hadn’t quite registered in his eyes. Before he could recover from his surprise, she tightened her grip. “What’s your fucking safe word! Now!”

  “I don’t need one!”

  “Soft kitty,” she snapped.

  Confusion crossed his handsome face, and she willed herself not to get sucked in. As she observed him, confusion changed to mischief. He didn’t take her seriously. A smile played around his lips. She’d seen this look before on strong submissives just before they made the mistake of testing her. Reminding herself she needed to stay strong, this wouldn’t be easy with him. They’d become emotionally invested in each other. In agreeing to be here, he’d acknowledged he needed a dominant woman, and allowing him to top from the bottom would be a disastrous precedent to set in their relationship.

  “Repeat it,” she demanded.

  The order left no room for doubt or insubordination. Exploiting how ingrained the discipline of a military life was with him, she understood how to make him connect with her authority in this relationship.

  “I’m not saying that!” Defiance flared in his eyes; now he’d decided to act like an asshole.

  Centering herself, she remembered his initial expression of surprise when he walked through the door. Her being his one-night stand must’ve come as a complete shock to him, and it had been no less stunning to her. Aaron would be the submissive of her dreams. His strong-willed nature wouldn’t be easy to command. She’d have to earn every inch she gained with him, and at times, he’d be impossible to handle. He’d already demonstrated how jealous and possessive he could be. His uncertainty and lack of trust concerned her, and she needed to reassure him there hadn’t been anyone else last night and there never would be going forward.

  She preferred him strong and territorial and had no desire to emasculate him. Instead, she wanted to take him to an emotional level he didn’t know existed. His inability to bond with a woman told her she had a lot of work ahead of her, and she blamed his mother. She would have to walk a fine line, or he’d connect a relationship with another strong woman with his mother. Tasha had to make him grasp the distinction quickly in order for him to bond with her as his Domme. A powerful man like him couldn’t think he had to give up control. He had to want to give up control and embrace the release it provided. She might’ve overreacted to the conversation with his mother she’d overheard, but it still pissed her off.

  “I don’t give a shit what you like. I will decide what you like and don’t like from now on, so get used to it, pet.” She watched his reaction to her words carefully. “I gave you the rare opportunity of making a choice, and you decided it would be more fun to fuck with me. Repeat it.”

  Her tone left no room for question. She watched his eyes dart back and forth between her and the playroom. A man like him couldn’t be left with many choices, or he’d see them as weakness and room to negotiate. His display illustrated how emotional he’d get if he didn’t get his way. So she pressed him for an answer. “Aaron…. Don’t make me wait.”

  “Soft kitty.”

  “Say it again.”

  “Tasha—”

  “Say it again, or I’ll make sure you’re screaming it by the end of the night. Say. It. Again.”

  “Soft kitty.”

  Brushing past him, she took off her jacket while she thought about her next move. Normally, she would sit with a submissive and determine what they needed and get their perceived limits. Those meetings took place over the course of weeks and sometimes months before they ever got physical in any way. Meeting at the Carnivore Club had been her stipulation. Any man who wanted into her life and bedroom needed to understand how things would be. She knew this man and could be pretty damn certain he had no idea what he wanted from this lifestyle. She had to strip his barriers and figure out how to deal with him in a more controlled and stable way. The first thing would be to establish they weren’t at work and he wasn’t the boss or even her equal in this environment. She’d been clear about her expectations and decided to test his level of resolve. Returning to the large leather chair, she took a seat and pointed to the spot in front of her.

  “On your knees, here.”

  A what the fuck look crossed his face when he frowned at her. He didn’t need to say a word. She could read him like a book, which would make this transition harder for him. There would be no hiding from her. She’d learned to read his moods and anticipate his needs at work; it was his turn to learn how to read her in order to please her.

  “Lieutenant Colonel Rosencrantz, since you’ve elected to meet me on my terms, you’re about to learn how the chain of command works in my world.”

  When he snorted in response, she grabbed his shirt again and jerked him down to her level.
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br />   “I command, you obey. End of chain. Am I clear?”

  The stubborn, angry gaze told her he’d be holding his ground and wouldn’t waiver.

  “If you don’t do what I say, then I will fuck up your planet in ways you can’t imagine. So, if you can’t do this, then turn around and walk away. Am. I. Clear? Now, on your knees or leave. The choice is yours.”

  He responded with stubborn silence and standing.

  “I won’t repeat myself. Do it or go.”

  Aaron dropped to his knees, keeping angry eye contact with her. Resuming her seat, she snapped her fingers and pointed at a spot within her reach. While he moved to the spot without a word, she saw the fury that burned within. Most new submissives didn’t understand the range of emotions overpowering them, and Aaron wasn’t any different. She’d be willing to bet the balance of her savings account he’d never done this before. The emotional rush going through him confused him, manifesting itself in a little anger. Loss of control would not be easy for him to deal with.

  To calm him, she needed to reach him, and to reach him she had to discern what he’d respond to. Everyone had some form of communication they related to stronger than most, a tone of voice, an expression, or physical stimulation. Words seemed to piss him off faster than anything she’d tried so far. He was clueless at reading her expressions, so she cupped his chin and watched him blink in capitulation. Tactile. He needed touch to reassure him. Why hadn’t she seen it before? Remembering how he’d been so grabby at the wedding, and now how he relaxed in a few seconds while she held him. She realized that tactile stimulation would be the way to reach him.

  As if reading braille, she moved her finger across his cheek and watched his shoulders ease. Eventually, she’d get him to the point where she’d be able to still him with a gentle touch. As she continued to draw her fingers over him, discovering him by feel, he took her hands and kissed them. He’d never admit to being on edge and maybe a little scared, but she recognized the emotions when he reached for her. She didn’t correct him like she would any other submissive. Instead, she allowed it and even craved a little more. The affectionate gesture sent butterflies swarming inside her. Maybe she needed the ease of tension as well.

  “Why did you agree to meet me here?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied, uncertainty in his voice.

  An honest answer. This environment took away everything he’d come to expect in a relationship with a woman, making him insecure and a little afraid.

  “Have you ever done something like this before?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Do you understand what you’re getting yourself into?”

  Hesitating, he glanced behind him as if searching for an escape. Before they got in any deeper, she had to lay out the way things would be going forward. As his Domme, his overall well-being would be her responsibility. She also understood his submission had to be given willingly and without any reservation.

  Cupping his chin, she redirected his attention. “Aaron? Do you understand you will be my submissive and I will be your dominant? This is who I am, and I will not change. This arrangement will never be open for discussion. As much as I want you, I will give you up if you expect it to be different. So, if you can’t do this, then leave now and I’ll understand.”

  “No,” he murmured. “I’m staying.”

  “Do you understand what is expected of you?”

  “I think so.”

  Sitting back, she watched his uncertainty return.

  “You can’t think so, you need to know so.”

  His body became rigid, his tension tangible.

  “Darling, you need to be sure. This won’t be a trial to see how it goes. This is it. Do you need to think about it?”

  Kneeling at her feet, there was nothing to think about and no other place he wanted to be. While he’d never actively pursued this lifestyle, he knew about it, and it fascinated him, but not like most men. He always found himself reading articles written by submissive straight men. The idea of a beautiful woman tying him up and having her way with him had always excited him, but he’d never shared that with anyone. At times, he’d wondered what the hell was wrong with his way of thinking. Working on Lucian Wilkerson’s houses forced him to research the BDSM lifestyle, but he’d shied away from it because he didn’t feel right about dominating a woman sexually.

  It never crossed his mind that any woman would want to dominate him. With all of the promises he’d made to his family, he’d simply put it aside and carried on as others expected of a man who served in the military and ran a company. When Tasha explained her expectations, enticing visions of her releasing him from all the demands weighing him down, it made him want her even more. The beautiful, intelligent woman sitting before him offered something he’d wanted for a long time but had been afraid to ask for. It dawned on him this had been their relationship dynamic from the beginning. That’s why it had been so comfortable and easy. She made all the decisions, and he simply said yes or no. Thinking back, he couldn’t recall a single instance where he had said no to her.

  “I’m sure this is what I want. But I have expectations, too.”

  As she sat back and appraised him, doubts ran through him again. Had he gone too far too soon? Was he supposed to have conditions?

  “Okay, tell me what they are.”

  “I’m playing for keeps. This is permanent, and there will be no other man in your life but me. I won’t share you.”

  “Anything else?”

  “I won’t do this in public. I want this part of our life kept between you and me.”

  A smile played on her lips. “Okay, what else?”

  “You need to convert to Judaism.”

  Anger filled him when she laughed. Above all his demands, this was the one absolutely not up for discussion. He hadn’t done his military service in Israel and continued to be faithful to his religion just to leave it for some pussy. The Air Force had been a walk in the park compared to the IDF. Being Jewish was an integral part of his identity. Above any other woman he could take into his confidence, she’d be the one who understood what this meant to him.

  “Is this for you or your mother?”

  “It’s for me. I don’t give a damn what my mother thinks.”

  “Oh, I think you do. In fact, I think you’d say or do anything to keep your mother happy. Let’s see if you’re willing to do the same for me.”

  Her tone stung his pride. Then he realized why she’d been so angry. All the crap he’d said to his mother suddenly filled his memory. The rustling he’d heard outside his office when he’d had that conversation must’ve been Tasha, not the janitor. Focusing on securing his future with her, he’d deal with her anger and hurt later. If keeping her meant submitting to her, he’d do it without hesitation…if she’d welcome his faith into her life.

  “Well, are you willing to do it?”

  Leaning forward, she grabbed his shirt and yanked him toward her, knocking him off balance. “There’s no reason for me to convert.” She pulled him closer. Shoulders sagging, heart sinking at her declaration, he almost missed the rest. “You’re in luck, pet. I am Jewish. My mother is a Russian Jew who was given political asylum by the US Embassy in Moscow. My dad met her while serving as a Marine at the embassy. He converted before I was born. Besides, why would I be here if I wasn’t Jewish? That demand was at the top of your list.”

  He shook his head at the unexpected news. She’d never indicated she’d been born Jewish. His instincts had been right, Tasha is my perfect woman. His uncertainty disappeared.

  She let go of him and sat back. “You need to learn how to trust.”

  “I trust you.”

  “You think so? I’ll be testing you, pet. Be prepared.”

  What the hell does that mean? He glanced behind him into the next room and recalled how he and Tom had worked on Lucian’s San Antonio house, Belmead. The area next to theirs appeared like a miniature version of the third floor in Lucian’s house. He
’d overseen phases of the project; he’d fantasized about what happened in the unique BDSM dungeon he’d helped create. He’d pictured himself tied to the huge St. Andrew’s Cross dominating one of the walls and often wondered how it would feel to be whipped while he stood helpless.

  “Pay attention. Here are the rules.” She stood and brushed past him, out of sight, but he heard her loud and clear. “Rule one, I am Maven. You will have no one else before me. I am your universe. Mistress is what you will call me when we play. Rule two, you will not speak unless you are told to or you need to use your safe word. Rule three—”

  “What if I have a question?” He turned to look at her, but she’d gone out of his line of sight.

  It intimidated him that he couldn’t see or reach for her.

  “Do you have a question, pet? It had better be a damn good one to interrupt me.”

  “Not yet, but what if I do?”

  “Get naked and go to the next room—”

  “Naked? Like nothing on?” He couldn’t see her expression, but he did hear her exasperated sigh.

  “I can see this is going to be a long and difficult night.”

  Aaron stayed in his kneeling position, contemplating whether he really wanted to move forward with this or not. How interesting she’d chosen the word Maven. Loosely translated from Yiddish, the word meant authority or boss. Was she trying to make him understand their future together in terms familiar to him? He listened to the tapping of her boots on the tile floor and the soft padding of her steps when the floor transitioned to carpet. While she walked around, he tried to decide how far he really wanted to go. What he didn’t bargain on was the unexpected sting to his ass.

  “Ow! Are you fucking crazy, woman? What the hell did you do that for?” He jumped to his feet, grabbing his ass.

  “Get naked and get in the other room. Now!”