Their Famous Dominant

by Nicole Edwards

  THREE

  Clarissa

  “GOOD AFTERNOON, MS. TINSLEY.”

  “Good afternoon, Philipe.” I nodded to the maître d’, offering him my sweetest smile as I made my way through the restaurant.

  I was a familiar face within this particular establishment, and they obviously knew why I was here and who I was to meet. It was one of the few places I visited regularly, and most of the time it was because Xander and Mercedes preferred it.

  When I approached the table where my friends were sitting, Xander got to his feet. He was dressed to impress, as always, a finely tailored suit covering his ginormous six-foot-six-inch frame. The man was more than a foot taller than me, and every time I was around him, I felt the extreme difference in our sizes. He took a step over, kissed my cheek, then pulled out my chair for me.

  “I’m so glad you could make it,” Mercedes greeted pleasantly, reaching over and squeezing my hand and tugging me closer.

  I leaned over and hugged my longtime friend, then took a seat in the chair Xander held out for me. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Xander and Mercedes Boone were my two closest friends in the world. We had met years and years ago when I was working for Tim Johnson, a Realtor who’d been representing one of Xander’s clients. We’d started talking about some of Xander’s interests and Tim brought up Xander’s involvement in the BDSM club scene. My interest in D/s had become a subject of conversation during our first lunch meeting and things sort of fell into place from there. I was then introduced to Shane Gibson, one of Xander’s good friends, and he and I had started playing at the clubs. As far as I was concerned, meeting them had been a random encounter that had changed my life.

  Once I was seated, the waiter was at our side, placing a glass of water as well as wine in front of me. I politely thanked him, then turned to my friends.

  “Thanks for inviting me. I needed to get out of the house,” I said with a hesitant smile.

  “Well, with such short notice, I wasn’t sure you’d be able to make it.” Mercedes reached for her wine, studying me intently.

  I glanced down, keeping my smile firmly on my face, hoping it didn’t look as forced as it felt. I didn’t want to tell my friend that I had nothing better to do. It would’ve come out wrong, even if it was the truth. Plus, I enjoyed spending time with someone other than myself.

  “You look tired, Rissa,” Mercedes said softly. “Everything all right?”

  I nodded. No way was I going to burden my friends with the shit that had become my life. Not until after the appetizer, anyway. “Peachy,” I lied.

  The look Mercedes passed to her husband said neither of them believed me. And why would they? They knew me better than I knew myself.

  “So…” I prompted after a few seconds of strangled silence. “You mentioned you might have a client for me.”

  Mercedes waved off the statement. “We’ll get to that. First, I want you to tell us what’s going on with you.”

  I had suspected the supposed client was merely a ruse to get me out of the house, and it appeared I was correct. It wasn’t the first time Mercedes had conjured up some fictitious business simply to keep me from coming up with excuses as to why I couldn’t leave the house.

  “How’s business, Rissa?” she asked when I wasn’t forthcoming.

  The woman’s commanding tone spoke to something deep within me. I could deny Mercedes nothing, even if her choice in topic only increased the tension in my shoulders.

  After taking a gulp of my wine, I pasted on another smile. “Keeping busy as best I can. I just finished a will for a wealthy man who has no children. I’m in the process of reviewing a contract for a potential client. You know how it goes.” I forced my smile to remain in place. “All new ventures take time to get off the ground.”

  Granted, new venture was a bit of a stretch considering I’d been making a go of it for almost a year now. I was a week shy of my one-year anniversary of the day I was fired. It was high time I confessed to my closest friend. I needed her help and the only way I would get it would be to come out and tell her.

  Just when I was going to utilize the segue Mercedes had given me, the waiter returned, standing silently beside the table until Xander acknowledged him.

  To my surprise, Xander waved him off. “We’re waiting for one more.”

  I frowned, glancing over and noticing for the first time there was a fourth place setting. I peered over at Mercedes. I thought she’d said this was a discussion about a potential client, not that I would actually be meeting with them. I fought back the urge to panic, thinking about the outfit I’d selected and whether it was appropriate for a business lunch. Luckily, I’d opted for a white silk blouse and black slacks rather than jeans and a T-shirt. “Who’s joining us?”

  Mercedes started to speak, but then her eyes widened, and a grin pulled at her red-painted lips as she looked at something over my shoulder.

  Or rather someone.

  “Glad you could make it,” Xander greeted in that rough baritone of his as he pushed to his feet.

  I took a sip of water, trying not to look surprised by a new addition. I needed a moment to compose myself. I took another gulp of water, preparing to turn and professionally greet their guest.

  “I should be thanking you,” the deep, dark voice echoed richly in the otherwise silent restaurant.

  Oh.

  Shit.

  My entire body tensed, every cell going on high alert as though stimulated by the voice alone. Somehow, I managed to keep my eyes lowered, my attention on the crystal water glass that now trembled slightly in my hand.

  “Trent, you remember Clarissa,” Mercedes introduced, although it wasn’t necessary. “Clarissa, please greet Trent.”

  Yep. That was a command, not a request.

  As for why the Domme pulled that with me all the time, I couldn’t explain. Whatever the reason, it worked. Knowing it would be downright rude not to look his way, I cut my eyes quickly to Trent’s face. His too-handsome-for-words face and those mesmerizing blue eyes.

  I held out my hand as I started to get to my feet.

  “Please, stay seated,” he said, his grip on my hand as firm as his tone.

  A shiver danced from my fingers to my shoulder, then straight down my spine.

  Sweet jeezus, the man looked as good as I remembered, maybe even better with the scruffy jaw, something I’d never before seen him sporting. On a good day, Trent was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. Like this … he looked like a fallen angel in a very expensive suit.

  I swallowed hard. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Ramsey.”

  Trent nodded, his seductive blue eyes scanning my face. “Likewise, Miss Tinsley.”

  A chill—the good kind—chased those tingles down my spine, leaving me feeling a little light-headed. Then again, that was always my response to Trent. Had been since the very first time we’d been introduced five years ago. Or was it six? I wasn’t sure, but it had been a long time.

  “Hope you didn’t get mobbed coming in,” Xander mentioned as he returned to his seat.

  “They’re very good here,” Trent noted as he released my hand and took a seat on my left, directly across from Mercedes.

  Although there was a full corner of the table separating us, I fought the urge to move over, especially when Trent’s knee brushed mine. The man didn’t seem to understand the concept of personal space. For the most part, I didn’t mind it. Usually. However, I had a distinct response to this particular man, one that caused me to blush profusely.

  “That they are,” Xander agreed. “One of the many reasons we like it. Well, that and the bruschetta.”

  I knew it was difficult for Trent to go anywhere due to his celebrity. I’d seen it firsthand outside of Devotion. The fetish club—which replaced the original club at Club Destiny—owned by Luke McCoy was well-known, and although Luke protected the privacy of its members, there were some people who had no choice but to be in the spotlight.
Trent was a silent partner in the club, and his involvement had somehow become public knowledge. In an effort to keep the club out of the media’s high beams—as Luke liked to say—Trent had embraced their curiosity, explaining his interest and his reasons for investing.

  That didn’t seem to be an issue anymore, though. Not since Trent had opened one of Dallas’s most highly coveted BDSM hot spots—Dichotomy. Now the headlines were all about the world’s biggest action star slipping into his role as a sexual Dominant and dotting the map with his lascivious creations.

  “Where’s your assistant?” Mercedes asked.

  I glanced over, hoping I was being discreet when I searched for Troy Shelton, Trent’s absurdly handsome assistant. I hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting Troy, but I would recognize his face anywhere. The two had made headlines when Trent hired Troy on a few years ago, and it seemed the media was always close by, eager to catch a glimpse of the two. Apparently, it wasn’t all that common that a celebrity had an assistant as eye-catching as Troy.

  Trent chuckled. “Troy’s taking a few days to get his personal life under control.”

  “Is he having issues?” Xander questioned casually.

  “That would be an understatement.”

  All three of us stared at Trent as though waiting for the punch line when, in reality, it was obvious he wasn’t going to elaborate.

  “Is there something wrong? Or is he merely needing some space from you?” Mercedes’s gray eyes gleamed with amusement.

  Xander’s deep laughter made me smile. “I wouldn’t blame him. Everyone would need a little space from the diva he waits on hand and foot.”

  “Whatever.” Trent’s smirk did wicked things to my insides. “Troy certainly doesn’t wait on me hand and foot,” he said, quickly thanking the waiter once his wine and water were delivered. “But some time off appears to be necessary. He’s had some family concerns, his apartment was recently broken into, plus, his car broke down. Again. I figured it would be in my best interest to give him some time to handle those things if I expect him to put in a full day’s work.”

  “Broken into?” Mercedes’s amusement disappeared, replaced by genuine concern.

  “Yeah.” Trent waved her off. “I didn’t ask for details.”

  “Do you think you should take the break-in seriously? I mean, the guy has worked for you for years. Maybe it’s someone who’s stalking you. Troy’s merely a means to an end.” Xander wasn’t the most trusting of those he didn’t know.

  “Well, Sherlock, I hadn’t considered that,” he said insouciantly, but I could tell from his tone he was lying. “But, if that’s the case, I’m sure he’ll let me know if he needs my help.”

  “Or he’ll brush it aside until something worse happens.” Xander reached into his suit pocket and pulled out his wallet. “I’ve got a contact. You should give him a call.”

  After retrieving a business card, Xander passed it over to Trent. When he picked it up, I glanced at the card. Ryan Trexler, Sniper 1 Security.

  Never heard of them.

  “Actually,” Trent said, pushing the card back toward Xander. “I’ve got a contact of my own. I’ve put in a call to him already.”

  Xander nodded, pushing the card back over. “Keep it. Just in case. They’re local. At the very least, they can look into the break-in. See if there’s any connection to you,” Xander explained.

  “Or maybe this is just a ploy of his?” Mercedes asked. “Maybe Troy’s trying to get closer to you.”

  Trent laughed as he tucked the card into his jacket pocket. “He’s one of the only assistants I’ve had who doesn’t make me feel like one awkward step and I’ll fall off the pedestal they’ve placed me on. Trust me, the last thing he wants is to get closer.”

  I didn’t know Troy personally. However, the man had worked for Trent for years, and from the little snippets of gossip I’d collected, he was extremely loyal to Trent.

  Thankfully, the waiter appeared to take our order, which ended the conversation. A few minutes later, with a list of meals to prepare, he was on his way to the kitchen.

  Xander picked the conversation right back up, although on a different topic.

  “How’s the club?”

  Trent took a sip of his wine, glancing over at me briefly before turning his attention to Xander. “Good. Membership in Dallas is currently on hold due to the significant interest.”

  “Fans still inundating you?”

  “Yeah.” I felt Trent’s gaze as it swept over me again. “Which is limiting my ability to open except for weekends.”

  “What about Chicago?” Xander asked.

  “That one’s doing much better,” he admitted, taking his napkin and placing it in his lap.

  “Because you’re not there all the time?” Mercedes inquired.

  “Probably. There’s a waiting list, but membership is complete and we’re open regular hours.”

  “Did you take our suggestion?” Mercedes asked, her dark eyebrows lowering. “Are you conducting personal interviews with each applicant for this location?”

  “That’s the plan,” Trent said, taking a sip of wine and casting another glance my way before addressing Mercedes. “No other options in this case. We’ve got too many applications and plenty of them are not for the right reasons. Although I’ve been putting it off, I’m hoping to utilize Troy for some of that. At least until I can find a resident Dom who’ll manage membership for me.”

  “That’s smart,” Mercedes stated. “If the applicants realize they aren’t going to get in front of you, it’ll likely dwindle down to only those who are serious.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping,” Trent replied.

  “I’ve always wondered why you didn’t bring Troy over to the dark side already. You seem quite adamant about keeping your two lives separate. Do you think he’ll have an issue with it?” Xander asked.

  “No,” Trent replied with a seductive grin. “He survived the collaring ceremony I took him to. However, the boy’s as vanilla as they come, so I’ve been hoping to gradually introduce him.”

  Xander barked a laugh. “Boy? Does he like that you refer to him that way? He’s what? Twenty-nine?”

  “Thirty,” Trent clarified with a soft chuckle. “And once he gets versed in the lifestyle, perhaps I’ll give him a promotion.”

  I felt awkward sitting there while the three of them carried on a conversation. I had absolutely no clue what I was supposed to say or do or even think. Not only was I out of the loop on what was going on in Trent Ramsey’s life, I also felt at a slight disadvantage. For one, I was the only submissive at the table, which meant—at least from my perspective—I was socially on an entirely different level, especially in the presence of a Dom who wasn’t one of my close friends.

  “Have you applied for membership at Dichotomy?”

  I took a sip of wine, my eyes swinging over to Xander, and that’s when I realized his question was directed at me.

  “I … uh…” I shook my head. “No. Not yet.”

  Honestly, I was hoping to avoid this particular subject. Considering I had downright ignored Trent’s personal invitation to the grand opening a while back, it wasn’t something I cared to discuss.

  “But you’re planning to.” Trent’s deep, rich voice felt like a caress as it tickled my ears. Despite my inappropriate reaction, I did understand it was a statement rather than a question.

  Not sure what he wanted me to say, I offered a casual shrug as I drained what was left of my wine. He was still staring at me when I set the empty glass on the table.

  Where the hell was that waiter?

  “Not an answer, Clarissa,” Trent growled softly.

  My eyes widened, and I realized I was not speaking to the man, I was having a conversation with the Dom. Not that they were two separate people. Trent Ramsey had never led me to believe they weren’t one and the same.

  His gaze narrowed. “You know I prefer verbal responses.”

  Something inside me went liquid, my
body warming instantly. I wasn’t sure what it was or why I reacted that way, but I had long ago learned that my response to Trent wasn’t normal in any sense of the word. For one, I was a submissive and he was a Dominant and there was a connection between us—at least on my part—that couldn’t be ignored.

  “Yes, Sir,” I whispered, my gaze fixed on my wineglass. Maybe if I stared long enough, it would miraculously refill.

  It probably should’ve bothered me that I so easily slipped into the submissive mindset when I was around these people, but it didn’t. They all knew I was capable of taking care of myself—for the most part—but those who really knew me understood what it was I sought in life.

  Thankfully, the waiter scurried up to the table and proceeded to refill my glass. Just as I was thinking I’d been given a reprieve, warm fingers curled beneath my chin and I found myself staring into smoky blue eyes that I was almost certain could see into my soul. While Trent held my gaze, the rest of the room seemed to fall away. I wanted to break the eye contact, but I couldn’t. I was trapped in his hungry stare—a gazelle about to be devoured by a lion.

  “I expect to see your application cross my desk in the very near future,” Trent stated, his tone firm.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  My belly fluttered as our eyes remained locked. My memory was inundated by sounds and smells from that long-ago night when he’d kissed me. It was on New Year’s at Devotion nearly four years ago. When the clock struck twelve, Trent Ramsey had rocked my entire world with one simple kiss. I’d thought about it numerous times since. Didn’t matter that it was so long ago.

  For some reason, I had thought that kiss would’ve led to something more. I’d been disappointed when it hadn’t, but I’d played it off fairly well. Keeping a safe distance between myself and the famous Dom was necessary for my sanity.

  Trent brushed my jaw with the backs of his knuckles before turning his attention to Xander and Mercedes once more.

  Hesitantly, I glanced over at Mercedes. The woman was watching closely, not one to miss a thing. It took a few seconds, but then a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth.