Their Famous Dominant

by Nicole Edwards

  “Now I want Xander naked,” Mercedes instructed.

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  This was a learning experience for me, but I was willing to continue because Shane was there with me. He made me feel safe because I knew I could trust him.

  As I tugged Xander’s leather pants down his thighs, I realized Xander had on boots. With laces. Which meant…

  Aww, crap.

  This time when I looked up at Xander, my face was hot with embarrassment. I knew what I was going to have to do to get him naked. As it was, I’d ignored the fact we were in a glass-enclosed room, likely with quite the audience due to the nature of the club. Xander alone would draw a crowd, and him naked was a sight any red-blooded woman wouldn’t want to miss.

  Lowering myself to my knees, I slid my fingernails down the front of Xander’s thighs, not touching his erect cock as I did. Once I was on the floor, I realized I was eye level with his heavy balls, and I instinctively observed them before remembering what I was doing.

  Quickly untying the laces and helping Xander to remove his boots, I prayed no one else could see how I was blushing from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

  I jumped when I felt something cool against the back of my thigh, and I fought the urge to turn around and see what it was. I could see Mercedes’s boots in my peripheral vision, and I figured it was that leather crop she’d been wielding earlier. As it was, my dress had been pushed high on my thighs so I could lean over to work on Xander’s boots, but whatever Mercedes was doing behind me was raising the silk even higher.

  “No panties,” Mercedes said approvingly. “Very nice.”

  I knew anyone standing outside the room would be able to see my bare butt and probably a whole lot more.

  I breathed a sigh of relief when I managed to get Xander completely naked a few minutes later. When I returned to my feet, Mercedes instructed me to go stand by Shane so I could observe the scene from afar.

  “Yes, Mistress M,” I said breathlessly.

  I managed to make my way across the room without running, although the urge to escape was intense. So much so, I was shaking when I reached Shane.

  Before I focused on the scene directly in front of me, I made the mistake of glancing out through the glass.

  And right there, front and center, was none other than Trent Ramsey.

  He was looking at me, his shockingly handsome face and his intoxicatingly pretty eyes focused on me.

  Me.

  Of all people.

  But for some reason, his stardom wasn’t even a fleeting thought. No, it wasn’t who he was but rather how he was looking at me that had me feeling a little light-headed.

  That was spine-tingling heat I saw reflected back at me. And it did something crazy to my insides, making my body heat another twenty degrees.

  No man had ever looked at me like that.

  Ever.

  It wasn’t so much the memory of the scene that had me feeling warmth pool in my veins. It was the memory of that heated look I’d seen in Trent’s eyes that night. Whatever he wanted to offer me, I was sure it wasn’t nearly as much as I wanted.

  Only, I wasn’t sure wanting more was wise.

  And I wasn’t sure how to go about it, either.

  Which meant, I really needed to ignore his text.

  Trent

  THE SCENE TAKING PLACE BEFORE me was one I’d seen plenty of times before. A submissive strapped to a St. Andrews cross while a Dom tormented him with a cane. The young masochist was evidently enjoying himself based on the glazed look on his face. If I had to guess, he was drifting into subspace.

  And while this scene was relatively familiar, I always enjoyed watching Zeke Lautner, another of my close friends. While the renowned Sadist didn’t have a submissive of his own, he was sought out by masochists of all levels. Looked as though Zeke had landed a particularly easy one for the evening.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight,” a deep voice sounded from beside me.

  I glanced over to see Gregory Edge, the resident Dom here at my Chicago club. The six-foot-five-inch Dom probably should’ve graced the cover of magazines as a model.

  “Honestly, I didn’t expect to be here.” I turned and shook his hand. “Good to see you.”

  “Likewise, boss.”

  I rolled my eyes. That was a nickname that I’d garnered by quite a few people over the years. For some it was true.

  “So what brings you by?”

  “Just wanted to check in. Watch a few scenes.”

  Considering Clarissa had been avoiding me since our lunch on Wednesday, I had opted to remain in Chicago after I’d taken care of business. The thought of going home to an empty house hadn’t been appealing. Without Troy around, it was a little awkward.

  So, I had taken advantage of the extra time, stopping in at the club. For about three seconds, I had considered finding a willing submissive to scene with tonight, but the instant I stepped foot in the door, that idea had lost all appeal.

  There wasn’t a single submissive who interested me these days.

  Well, technically there was. Two, in fact. Although one of those two wasn’t a submissive at all. He was my assistant. However, I got the feeling with a little time and some training, he would make a damn fine one.

  Regardless, I couldn’t stop thinking about them long enough to let myself participate with anyone else. I didn’t have it in me.

  “You get a chance to meet with Landon and Langston?” Greg asked.

  I shook my head, keeping my eyes focused on the scene. “No. But that wasn’t the reason for this trip.” I cut my gaze to his face. “How’re things going with the new job, anyway?”

  “I’m settling in nicely,” he said with a smile.

  Greg had gone to work for Chatter PR Global a few months ago as one of their newly acquired advertising executives. For whatever reason, the company had gone on a hiring spree, bringing in new talent in an effort to expand. That was the reason I’d decided to approach them regarding a business proposition. One they were currently discussing amongst themselves.

  I glanced around. “Justin and Ben coming tonight?”

  Greg’s gaze scanned the room. “I heard they’d be here. I think their little submissive is now keeping them on their toes.”

  I smiled as my attention returned to the caning. “I hear she’s good at that. What about you? You gonna take a submissive anytime soon?”

  Greg chuckled. “If it’s in the cards. However, with so much going on, I’m not sure that’ll be the case.”

  I knew the feeling. Until I’d seen Clarissa last Wednesday, I’d felt the same way. However, I’d come to a conclusion over these past few days. It would likely take some time to convince the sweet auburn-haired angel to succumb to her every desire, but I got the feeling it would happen. She was playing hard to get. Oddly enough, I liked that she was. In fact, it made me want to chase her all the more.

  “How’s the Dallas club coming along?” Greg asked.

  “Same. I haven’t had time to devote to the interviews, so we’re stuck in a holding pattern.”

  “Well, I’m sure things’ll work out when they’re meant to.”

  Yeah. That was what everyone kept saying.

  Unfortunately, I wasn’t the type of man to sit on my ass and wait for things. I went after what I wanted. Which was why I couldn’t seem to figure out what the issue was. I had a very real interest in two people, yet I had sat back and bided my time rather than going after them.

  Years I had wasted not seeking Clarissa out. Ever since that kiss on New Year’s, I’d wanted her with every breath I took. But for some damn reason, I hadn’t made a move, choosing to immerse myself in work rather than finding what I knew would truly make me happy.

  I was my own worst enemy. Whenever I felt as though things might get out of control, I pulled on the reins, bringing everything to an abrupt halt. I would then evaluate my life before resuming the same routine once more.

  “Well, I’ll be
damned,” a familiar voice sounded from behind me.

  I pivoted to see Justin Parker standing there smiling back at me.

  I held out my hand. “It’s good to see you, Parker.”

  “Likewise,” he said, shaking my hand in return. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”

  “Just passing through. I had some business to take care of. Thought I’d drop in.”

  “No plans to play tonight?” he asked while his two submissives stood obediently at his side.

  “Not tonight, no.” I hadn’t played in quite some time, which was starting to bug the shit out of me. I had come up with a dozen excuses as to why I couldn’t even scene with a willing submissive here in the club.

  For whatever reason, it didn’t feel right to me. The thought of facing Troy after a night with another submissive didn’t sit well. And that was what shocked me the most. Troy and I had a professional relationship. I was his boss, his employer, the man who signed his paychecks. On the other hand, Troy and I had become friends over the years. Good friends. I’d go so far as to say he was one of the few people in the world I trusted implicitly. I genuinely liked the man.

  In more ways than I was willing to admit.

  Then again, that didn’t mean I had the right to overstep, I knew. Which was likely the reason I’d been holding back when it came to him.

  “You remember my submissives, Ben and Addison.”

  I nodded toward them as their gazes lifted to mine. “I do. It’s good to see you both.”

  Benjamin Snowden was one of the partners in Chatter PR Global, as well as Justin’s twenty-four-seven submissive. They’d been together for far longer than I’d known them, but only recently had they taken another submissive. A sweet girl who had found herself in a bad situation. In fact, an altercation had taken place right here in this club, which was how their relationship had come about.

  “Well, if you’ll excuse us,” Justin said. “I’ve secured a room for the evening.”

  I grinned. “It was good to see you.”

  “Same.” Before he turned completely, he glanced back. “Oh, and about your proposal.” He grinned. “I’ve given it quite a bit of thought.”

  I waited, not willing to show my hand.

  “I’m sure you’ll be hearing from Landon in the very near future.”

  I nodded. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “As am I.” Justin turned to Ben and Addison. “Come on, pets. Let’s go discuss your punishment.”

  As I watched the three of them walk away, I couldn’t help thinking about what punishment would look like for the two submissives I had in mind.

  In the next breath, I realized it was time I stopped making excuses.

  It was time to go after what I wanted.

  Of course, I never did anything without a plan, so it was a good thing one was already starting to form as I stood there and watched as Zeke began unhooking the submissive’s restraints. In a moment, the man would pass the submissive off to a Domme who had agreed to handle aftercare. Zeke did not do aftercare for any reason, but I had yet to figure out why that was. I was sure that would change when the man finally found a submissive of his own. At that point, he wouldn’t willingly allow anyone else to handle the honor.

  I knew because that was exactly how I felt about the two people I intended to take as my own in the very near future.

  Although I was eager to set a plan in motion, I had to tread lightly as I moved forward. The question was, when was I going to make that move?

  And why the fuck was I wasting so much damn time?

  Troy

  Sunday, August 19

  SITTING AT HOME ON A Sunday night wasn’t exactly foreign to me. I’d done it plenty of times. Even over the past three years, in fact.

  Although, I had to admit it wasn’t par for the course considering Trent’s busy schedule. At some point in recent years, I’d apparently grown accustomed to his on-the-go lifestyle. Generally, we were gearing up for a busy week, oftentimes not even in Texas. We spent a ridiculous amount of time traveling from one place to another, but it didn’t necessarily feel like travel when the mode of transportation was Trent’s private jet.

  It wasn’t merely the constant moving that I missed, but also Trent’s company. I’d gotten used to being in his presence and admittedly, I missed him. And sure, I was generally working when we were together, but I enjoyed it. Immensely. Trent was the sort of man who was easy to be around as long as you understood how he worked.

  God, I missed working. I hated having to sit around and do nothing. Too much time to think and ponder wasn’t a good thing. Not for me, at least.

  I flipped through the channels on the television, trying to find something that would hold my attention for longer than a minute. I stopped on a channel playing this week’s TMZ episode, which would’ve aired on Thursday. I wasn’t a fan of this particular show, but I noticed Trent’s name in the headlines running down the left side of the screen and I couldn’t not watch.

  Sitting up straight, I waited as they ran through the other segments about the Kardashians and who Justin Bieber was currently dating.

  What had Trent done that had drawn attention to him now? For a solid week, they’d talked about the collaring ceremony we had attended, although they hadn’t exactly figured out what Trent’s involvement in all of it was.

  When they highlighted Trent’s name, I clicked to unmute the TV.

  The camera zoomed in on a reporter with his feet kicked up on his desk while he tossed a ball in the air. “Oh, hey.” He smiled, then dropped his feet and the ball. “It hasn’t been long since Trent Ramsey’s name was the highlight of our day, but I’m excited to say we’ve got some new information.”

  “Do tell,” one of the hosts said. “Don’t leave us in suspense.”

  The reporter chuckled before flashing a picture of Trent and a woman. “We’ve discovered the name of the pretty woman Mr. Ramsey was seen with yesterday afternoon. Her name’s Clarissa Tinsley. She’s a contract lawyer out of Dallas.”

  “I hope you’ve got more than that,” the host said with a frown. “It’s not exactly news when a celebrity meets with their lawyer.”

  The reporter chuckled as he pushed his glasses up on his nose and sat up in his chair. “I don’t think she’s his lawyer. And if she is, I think they’re discussing more than a lawsuit. After all, we caught them chatting outside after they’d spent a solid hour and a half enjoying a meal inside.”

  The picture went from a still image to a video as I watched Trent standing outside a restaurant with a woman. It was obvious the two of them were close. He was touching her face in a rather intimate way, their eyes locked as they talked.

  “We’re looking into what their relationship is,” the reporter continued. “But I think we’re catching the first glimpses of Trent’s new girlfriend.”

  “She’s cute,” the other host said. “And he looks quite taken with her. Perhaps this is a budding new romance for the A-lister who does his best to keep his relationships on the down low.”

  The other host chuckled as he said something to his co-host before it went to commercial.

  Frowning, I flopped back on the couch. Who was that woman? She wasn’t anyone I’d met before, although I could certainly see why Trent would be taken with her. Even though the shot was taken from across the street, it was clear enough to make out her features. She was pretty, but not in that Hollywood glam sort of way that a lot of Trent’s past dates were.

  I glanced at my phone on the coffee table. I wanted to text him, to ask who she was, but I thought better of it.

  What I needed to do was figure out how I was going to get back in Trent’s good graces so I wasn’t exiled to my apartment, sprawled across my couch while watching reruns of NCIS and crappy tabloid television.

  Maybe I should try explaining what was going on. In detail rather than brushing over it as though it wasn’t really a big deal. It probably made sense to explain everything, to suck it up and te
ll him about the repeated break-ins. I was sure he would understand. Maybe.

  Then again, perhaps he would merely send me on my way with a nice letter of recommendation for my future employer to soften the blow.

  No. I couldn’t let that happen. Even the thought of working for anyone else bugged the shit out of me. I’d spent the past three years getting to know every single one of Trent’s idiosyncrasies so I could better support him. Admittedly, he wasn’t a soft, cuddly teddy bear, but he wasn’t the growling beast everyone accused him of being, either. He had his faults, just like everyone else. Namely, he kept a portion of his life hidden from me. A big portion.

  While Trent didn’t mind me knowing the ins and outs of his business dealings, including the acting and the side ventures he engaged in, the man didn’t allow me into one very intimate part of his life. For whatever reason, the BDSM realm was off-limits to me. In all the time I’d been working for him, Trent had never included me in anything related to that until the collaring ceremony a couple of weeks ago.

  Until then, I hadn’t met any of his friends who were in the lifestyle. And even now, I’d never been inside his clubs. Anything I might’ve learned, I had done on my own time through research on the Internet. I wasn’t sure why he kept it separate, or secret, but he did.

  When he invited me to the collaring ceremony, I’d been thrilled to attend, thinking he was finally opening up that side of himself to me. Only nothing had happened since.

  And now that I thought about it, perhaps I should mention this to him. Let him know I was interested in assisting in any way that I could. I wanted to be subjected to that side of him, to know every facet of the man. Trent Ramsey’s chemical makeup was related to all these things coalescing as a whole. It was only fair that I understood that side, too.

  At least I thought so.

  As though I summoned him simply from my thoughts, my phone buzzed with a text message from Trent.

  If you’re still interested in remaining in my employ, I suggest you arrive at my house no later than seven a.m. tomorrow morning. Wait for me in my bedroom until I’m finished with my shower. I’ve got some things we need to discuss before we continue forward.