Their Famous Dominant

by Nicole Edwards

  I chuckled. “You can tell your wife whatever you’d like to tell her. As for my intentions with Clarissa, that’s between her and me.”

  “She won’t use a safe word,” Xander stated abruptly.

  That got my attention. “What?”

  “You heard me. She won’t use a safe word. She’s all about doing whatever pleases her Dom. It’s gotten her into trouble a time or two.”

  “You’re saying she’s too trusting?”

  “No. I’m saying she’s looking to please someone and she won’t use a safe word no matter how much she needs to. If you get her to submit once, she’s going to give you everything, follow every instruction to the letter. You’ll have to watch her.”

  I glanced down at the file sitting on my desk. “I noticed she doesn’t have any limits on file at Devotion.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. However, she does have them. Like I said, she’s looking to please, and she doesn’t understand the concept of give and take. She believes it’s her responsibility to give everything.”

  Well, that was something we would have to work on. I wasn’t interested in a woman who would succumb to my every whim.

  “If you want more details, you should talk to Shane.”

  “Yeah. I’m considering it.” I had absolutely no desire to talk to Shane; however, it might be necessary. I knew the man had been intimate with Clarissa because he’d been her training Dom at the BDSM club we belonged to before Devotion came about. Even thinking about it made me want to punch the guy in the face.

  Xander sighed again. “I understand you asked Mercedes to invite Clarissa to lunch last week, Trent. You disguised it as business but Mercedes knows better. We’ve seen the two of you interact, and yes, my wife might’ve decided to play the little matchmaker. That doesn’t mean it’s a guarantee.”

  “Nothing is a guarantee, Xander.”

  “True. I’m just saying you need to proceed with caution. Clarissa’s one of the good ones. She’s got a big heart and she’s looking for something the right Dom will be able to cherish. I just wanted you to know what you were up against.”

  “I appreciate the warning.”

  With that, the call disconnected, and I glanced down at the file once more. I flipped it open and scanned the few things that I had expected to be checked off as limits. Soft limits if nothing else.

  Drumming my fingers on the desk, I considered what I was up against.

  I knew Xander was right. I would have to proceed with caution.

  My eyes slid to Troy, and an image of the two of them kneeling before me danced through my brain.

  It was going to get interesting, no doubt.

  But proceed I would.

  Troy

  XANDER BOONE, REAL ESTATE MOGUL.

  That was the man my boss just finished speaking with.

  I had met Xander twice since I’d started working for Trent, both times in regard to some property Trent was investing in. I’d never had a lengthy conversation with the man, but I knew enough about him to know he and Trent were relatively good friends. I’d seen them together, and unlike with most people he interacted with, my boss wasn’t usually on the defensive with the man.

  That hadn’t been the case on this phone call, though.

  I could tell it was a personal conversation, nothing related to business, and it was interesting to listen to him. It was even more interesting to see Trent eyeing me as he spoke. In the three years I’d been working for him, I’d never seen Trent look at me like … that. I wasn’t even sure how to describe it but there was a significant amount of … hmmm, I’d say interest, maybe?

  And no, I wasn’t thinking the guy was all hot for me simply because I’d proven to him that I would go to my knees at a simple command. But I knew a curious man when I saw one.

  One thing I did know for sure was that my boss had a thing for Clarissa Tinsley, the obvious subject of their conversation. Based on his words, along with the way he’d been looking at her in that video, it was clear he was interested in her. The sort of interested that had a man’s body going rock hard as his mind conjured up some naughty images.

  Yet every time he said her name during the call, Trent’s eyes had met mine.

  Or … maybe I was completely delusional, and I was only imagining that he was looking at me like he was including me in those dirty thoughts.

  When I thought about it rationally, I knew there was no way that was the case. Trent Ramsey did not like dudes. I knew it deep down, but I still couldn’t stop the fantasy.

  Not that I would ever act on that. I wasn’t an idiot. I enjoyed working for Trent. He wasn’t the hard-ass everyone claimed him to be, even if he did want things his way. Plus, he’d put up with a lot of shit from me. Especially recently. No way would I do anything that could possibly jeopardize my employment even if I secretly wished it could happen.

  When Trent finally looked up from the papers he was reviewing, I turned my attention to him and that was when our eyes met. Once again, he was staring at me as though he was thinking something … dirty.

  Yeah. Right. Okay. I think it was safe to say I needed a good night’s sleep. Whatever tricks my brain was playing on me needed to stop. He was probably not even looking at me at all. He was likely zoned out while thinking about Clarissa.

  When he pushed to his feet, I sat up straight, ready to follow.

  “Let me put this up, and we’ll head out.”

  “Sure.”

  I followed him into the hall. Trent closed and locked his office door before slipping into another office, only to return a minute later. He was carrying a folder, only this one didn’t appear to have much in it.

  “Do you know what limits are?” he asked as he pulled the door closed and locked it.

  “I’ve heard of them,” I admitted, that strange twinge in my gut returning. Excitement, maybe?

  When he turned, Trent handed me the folder. “I want you to fill out the list. It’s regarding what you’re willing to do or not do as far as BDSM is concerned. Take your time, though. There’s no rush.”

  My eyebrows shot up, but I took the folder. “Is this a requirement to allow me into the club?”

  “No.” He didn’t elaborate, and I opted to let the subject drop.

  Trent started walking but it took a few seconds longer for my feet to get with the program. I hurried to catch up. Once everything was secured, we were heading back to the garage where he’d parked his car.

  Car. Ha!

  This wasn’t just a car, it was an Aston Martin AM-RB 001.

  Despite my father’s ridiculous wealth, I had never ridden in a car such as this one. The damn thing cost four million dollars and they’d only made one hundred fifty of them, yet Trent drove it around town like it was the overly popular Ford Mustang. I was still in awe as I climbed back in.

  Trent started the engine and we were heading back out of the fortress known as Devotion.

  “Just out of curiosity,” I said, “why is this club all locked down?”

  “It’s not open to the public.”

  “Oh.” Well, that made sense. “Is Dichotomy?”

  “No.”

  Hmm. “Are any BDSM clubs?”

  Trent’s eyes cut to me before going back to the road. “There’re some, yeah. Mine isn’t. Like Devotion, we vet every member and hand select those we want.”

  “So members pay fees?”

  “Hefty ones,” he said as though that was only natural.

  “Is that the case for all clubs?”

  “No.”

  Interesting. “What exactly goes on at these BDSM clubs?”

  The corner of his lip quirked, and I could tell I likely provided him with hours of entertainment at my own expense. “I’ll let it be a surprise.” He glanced at me again. “Do you watch porn, boy?”

  The question startled me, but it didn’t embarrass me. “Of course.” Who didn’t?

  “Well, if you watch porn and you can answer me with a straight face, then I’d say y
ou’ll do just fine at Dichotomy.”

  “Are there people…?” I didn’t know what the right word was. Screwing? Fucking? Fornicating?

  “Naked?” he filled in.

  “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

  Trent chuckled. “Yeah. There are plenty of naked people.”

  “Well, there you go. I’m sure I’ll do just fine.”

  His chuckle turned to a full-blown laugh, and I couldn’t help but smile.

  “I like you, Troy.”

  “Well, I like you, too, Trent.”

  His gaze cut to me quickly and I was almost positive I saw a wicked glint staring back at me. “We’ll have to see if you still feel that way after your first trip to Dichotomy.”

  “I don’t scare easily,” I admitted.

  His eyes darted over and lingered on my face for a few seconds. “Is that a warning? Or a suggestion?”

  Both. Neither? I didn’t even know at this point.

  He nodded toward the folder in my lap. “Fill it out and then let me know if you feel the same. Some of that stuff is…” He smirked.

  “Scary?”

  “Intimidating.”

  Hmm. That sounded intriguing.

  “Besides fill out this list, is there anything you need me to do tonight?” Since he had canceled his immediate plans for the week, I assumed he had something important to do.

  “I’ll need you to make sure Ransom—your bodyguard—gets settled in. He’ll be at your side twenty-four seven going forward.”

  “Should I have a room prepared for him?”

  “Yes. And ensure he’ll have an apartment in Chicago. Floor below ours if possible. Two bedrooms.”

  “Will do.”

  “I’m inviting Clarissa to dinner tomorrow night.”

  “Do you need me to make reservations?”

  “Not necessary. We’ll be eating at home.” His eyes remained focused on the road. “I’ll also need you to nail down all the details of our trip to Chicago Wednesday morning.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “I need you to send a car for Clarissa and Zeke that morning. Have them brought directly to the airport. They’re going with us to Chicago.”

  “Of course, boss. I’ll make sure the jet’s fueled and ready to go by…?”

  “Eight.”

  “Got it.”

  “The flight’s only two and a half hours, but I intend for the three of us to have breakfast on the plane.” He glanced over at me.

  “I can do that. Anything specific?”

  “Let Brax know he’ll be going with us. And ensure he’s ready to prepare anything I request.”

  That could easily be arranged. Trent had more than one chef on his payroll, but Braxton McBride was his personal chef, who generally went wherever Trent went.

  “Case will also be going with us. I’ve set up a meeting for him and Brax while we’re there. They won’t be coming back with us, though.”

  Wow. That was going to be a full flight. At least on the way there.

  “And for dinner tomorrow tonight?” I asked while I was thinking about it.

  Trent’s head turned my way. “I’ll let you decide. You can order in.” His attention returned to the road. “As for our tentative plans on Friday … I’ve decided we will be going to Dichotomy.”

  Not relying on my memory, I pulled out the iPad and started taking notes.

  Then his words hit me. “We?”

  Trent’s smirk disappeared. “Are you having a hard time understanding me, Troy?”

  “No, boss.” I grinned. “Actually, yes. I keep hearing we and I want to ensure I know who you’re referring to.”

  “You, me, and Clarissa. From now on, that’s who I’m referring to when I say we.”

  Okay, so this was taking a turn I hadn’t expected. “Understood. So … uh … should I be ordering dinner for three?” I didn’t want to assume anything.

  “Unless you’re opposed to the idea.”

  I wasn’t even sure what the idea was but I couldn’t argue with my employer. “Of course not. Dinner tomorrow night. Breakfast on the plane Wednesday, Chicago during the day, the fundraiser on Thursday, Dichotomy on Friday. Do I need to make travel arrangements for next week?”

  “Not at the moment. If all goes well during Wednesday’s meeting, we might spend a few days in Chicago next week. But I have some things to take care of here before that can happen.”

  “Anything I can help with?”

  “Possibly interviews at the club.”

  “Interviews?”

  “For membership. I’ve put the Dallas memberships on hold temporarily, but I can’t postpone it for too long. I’m going to need your assistance with getting the members vetted.”

  “Since you seem to be letting me cross over to the dark side, is there anyone you’d like me to talk to at the clubs? Anyone who can ramp me up on the process? I can make a list of contacts to ensure everything’s taken care of.”

  I expected him to be reluctant with his answer because that had always been the case. Whenever I’d asked about the club, Trent usually insisted he was handling things himself.

  “Gregory Edge is the resident Dom at Dichotomy in Chicago,” he said easily. “I’ll send you his information. I’ll make sure he knows to contact you in the event he can’t reach me in the future.”

  “Is there a resident Dom in Dallas? You know?” I said with an embarrassed laugh. “I’m not even sure what that is.”

  Trent’s eyes never left the road. “A resident Dom is the equivalent of a club manager. Greg is one of Dichotomy’s Masters and he manages it while I’m not there. And no, I don’t have anyone in place here. We’ve had an issue because of the sheer number of people submitting applications. Once I get a few Masters in place, I’ll have some options.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help with that?” I offered, because what the hell. In for a penny, in for a pound.

  “As soon as we can get by there, I’ll introduce you to Sarah and Dylan. They’re overseeing the business for all the clubs. I’ll make sure they know you’re coming on board.”

  “How many clubs are there?”

  “Two right now. I’ve got a third in the works. I just purchased a building in New York. We’ll likely be checking it out in the coming weeks.”

  I typed the information in my notes app figuring it would be good to have in the future.

  “Okay, so Gregory Edge is the resident Dom in Chicago.”

  “You can call him Master Edge,” Trent stated.

  “Right. Master Edge. And Sarah and Dylan—should I call them something specific?”

  “Sarah and Dylan will do fine.”

  “Okay. And they oversee the business and they’re the go-to people here in Dallas. And you’ve got one up and coming in New York. I’ll make sure the plane is prepped for Chicago on Wednesday. Is there anything I need to have for you?” I looked up at him.

  His eyes cut over to me briefly. “Just my kit.”

  “Your … what?”

  Trent smirked. “My toy bag. I keep one in my office. I may not need it, but it’ll be good to have just in case.”

  Okay then. I noted it. I was curious as to what a Dom kept in his toy bag but I kept the question to myself. No sense pushing.

  We drove in silence for a couple of minutes and then I blurted the question that kept running through my head. “Why are you including me in this now?”

  “In what?”

  “This … side of your life.”

  His eyes never left the road. “Because I want to.”

  What was I supposed to say to that? Not like I could interrogate him. Trent was my boss. He called the shots.

  “On another topic,” Trent said as we pulled past the security gates to his mansion, “I want you to call Case.”

  Case was Trent’s personal trainer. “And tell him … ?”

  “Tell him I’d like him and Brax to come to Dichotomy on Friday night. There’s someone I think they’ll be interested in seei
ng.”

  “I assume he’ll know what I’m talking about?”

  He gave me that what do you think? look.

  “Got it.” As he pulled into the twelve-car garage, I glanced down the row of cars.

  “Any questions?” His eyes cut to me.

  “No, boss. I can handle all of this today.”

  “Good. Because when it’s just you, me, and Clarissa, I expect you to give me every ounce of your attention.”

  I looked over at him and that was when I noticed he was serious.

  “Starting tomorrow, I’m going to introduce you to my lifestyle, boy. We’ll take it from there.”

  I nodded, that irrefutable excitement once again churning in my gut. I had no idea what I was in for when it came to Trent’s lifestyle, but I couldn’t deny that I was eager to see where it went.

  EIGHT

  Clarissa

  AFTER MY BRIEF CONVERSATION WITH Trent yesterday, I tried to pretend the oversized muscle wasn’t sitting outside my house, warding off the evil paparazzi. I had fully intended to leave Zeke there but that hadn’t lasted long. When I finally settled in for dinner last night, I felt so bad, I invited him in. After making him a sandwich, we settled in an awkward silence and watched television. Fully trusting Trent knew what he was doing, I even offered my spare bedroom to Zeke. He politely accepted, but I wasn’t sure he ever slept.

  This morning I woke to him sitting at my small dining room table on his phone.

  “What are you looking at?” I asked as I poured myself a cup.

  The big man looked up and grinned. “Tank.”

  “Who’s Tank?”

  “My dog.”

  “Really?”

  A crease lined Zeke’s forehead. “Do you doubt everything people tell you?”

  “No. I … uh…” I didn’t know what to say to that. “Okay, yes. It’s a bad habit.”

  “Well, break it.”

  Did I mention the man was extremely bossy? I hadn’t spent a lot of time talking to him, choosing to pretend to be otherwise occupied with the television. Rather than engage in conversation, Zeke had found other ways to entertain himself, again, mostly on his phone.