It shocked Taren to hear Dori’s assessment of her. Taren hadn’t backed out of being a football cheerleader. She did try out, and even had gotten a callback. Her work schedule wouldn’t allow her to take too much time off, and Taren would be damned if she had to move back in with her parents.
Taren truly wanted to swim with sharks to face one of her fears. Getting up close and personal with the large beings had felt like an adrenaline rush that no one would understand.
Getting the puppy had been her first step into being more responsible. She’d finished college. She’d found employment. She’d even found her own home. Being responsible for a living thing seemed like the next logical step. When her body refused to let her keep the adorable creature, she’d given him up and felt like a bad mommy for doing so.
As soon as the food arrived, Taren and Dori sat at the kitchen bar. Taren looked down into her aluminum container at the item resting in the middle of a perfectly good salad. The squid’s tentacles curved around bits of lettuce like it owned the dish.
The pungent aroma filled with exotic spices that made her feel like she’d run into a spice-filled steam room wafted up to her nose and made her cough a bit. Taren heard Dori snickering before she dove into her food.
“Eat up.” Dori winked at Taren before taking a bite of her noodle dish.
“Can I ask you something?” Taren picked at her meal while keeping her gaze down.
“As long as you don’t ask me about the show or if you can have some of my food, sure.” Her friend wiped her mouth before taking a sip of her wine.
“It is about the show.”
Dori shook her head. “I told you I didn’t want to talk about it, ever.”
“I know, but you never really talked to me about your experience, and you said you went because of me.”
“Yeah, because you said you really wanted to do this and really wanted to know about this lifestyle. I went in your place to let you know what it was like, and Carter said it would be easy money.” As soon as Dori had made the statement, she clamped her mouth shut.
“But you haven’t told me anything about it, not in five years. If you truly went for me, I want to know it all.” Taren gripped her fork as she started at her friend.
“I think the real question is why haven’t you gone to a BDSM club yourself after all these years? You could have. You could have had the life that you’ve always wanted. Why didn’t you?” Dori glared back at Taren.
Taren swallowed, feeling unable to answer. She felt compelled to say something to Dori. “I was too busy with school and work.” That hadn’t been a lie.
Dori shook her head and twirled some more noodles on her fork. “What is it that you want to know that you didn’t get from watching the show?”
“On the show, you started off so strong, like you are now. What changed?” Taren perched herself at the edge of the barstool she sat on while waiting for her answer.
Dori looked pensive at first. She kept her full attention on her food before she answered. “You know I have always loved my body. I love that I have tits and an ass. I got there and everyone was thin. I was the biggest one there.” She shook her head as she raised her fork to her mouth. Then she thought better of it and sat it back down again.
“Is that the reason you lost so much weight?” Taren hadn’t noticed her friend’s size before. Once Dori lost the extra pounds, and felt comfortable about going in public, she started to wear fitted outfits again.
Dori nodded. “I couldn’t eat. The media called me, contacted me online, came to my home, all to ask about that damn show. I lost my life, my identity. I tried dating, and the men all mentioned the show and asked if I was a freak like that in real life. It was horrible.” She stared at Taren. “Going on that show was the worst mistake of my life. I wished I had never done it. I’m happy for Begoni—Ananda. But that whole lifestyle is not for me.”
“What would you have done if you had won?” Taren crossed her legs.
Dori paused before answering. “I don’t know. Quit. Give up the prizes and all. That whole spanking thing may work for some people. I’m not one of them.”
“What was the worst part?” Taren had expected Dori to detail some of the horrors of the wax play or the caning.
“Honestly? It was what it does to your head. I realized that I had exposed myself to the world, and for what? For you?” She shook her head. “I love you and all, but taking in that puppy is the most I’ll do for you again.” She took a deep breath. “Now, stop stalling and eat your squid.”
Taren picked up her fork and knife. “You think I’m scared. I’m not scared. I’m not scared about anything.” She meant for her statement to be about BDSM, not the food.
She cut into a short, curly, gray tentacle, and picked it and some lettuce up with her fork. Taren popped the offering into her mouth and chewed…and chewed. The rubbery flesh didn’t bode well for her experience.
Once she swallowed, she felt the heat. It started slow, like an easy smolder as it crept up her throat. By the time it got to the roof of her mouth, she wanted to dunk her entire head into a bucket of ice.
“Good?” Dori asked.
Taren couldn’t get beyond the heat to notice the taste. She nodded at first, then came clean and shook her head. She picked up her glass of wine and downed it in three hefty gulps.
“Milk will take care of that heat.” Dori hopped down from the barstool and went into the kitchen. “I hate to say I told you so.”
“Then don’t do it.” Taren waved her hand in front of her open mouth as though the fanning would help. “How the hell do people enjoy foods this hot? This is crazy.”
“Here.” Dori handed Taren a tall glass of milk.
Taren couldn’t get it in her body fast enough. She guzzled it down and wiped the excess around her lips with the back of her hand. “Son of a bitch.”
“Yeah, that’s your punishment for asking me about Love My Way. Don’t bring it up again.” She pushed Taren’s dish back and pushed her meal toward her. “Eat up.”
Taren shook her head. “Not really hungry right now.”
Dori pulled her food back. “Fine. I buckled once for you. I won’t do it again for you or for Ananda.”
Hearing Ananda’s name perked Taren’s ears. She sat up taller. “What about Ananda?”
Dori remained quiet and continued eating her food without looking at Taren.
“Dori?”
Her friend still didn’t respond.
“Dorothy Lopez, you had better answer me or I’ll…”
“What?” Dori cocked her head.
Taren looked around, saw her meal, picked up the container, and scraped the contents into Dori’s food. “Now neither one of us will eat.”
“You bitch.” She slammed her fork down and pushed the gloppy mess away from her.
“What did you mean about Ananda? Has she been trying to contact you?” Taren reached up and started to play with the tail end of her hair.
Dori still remained silent.
“Dori, please!”
“Fine. Okay. Yes, she’s been calling me and texting me.” She jumped off the barstool and went back into the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator door. “Why don’t you have any food in here?”
“Later. Tell me about why she’s calling? Does she want to reminisce or something?” Taren waited for Dori to close the fridge door and make her way back to her. When she slowed to answer, Taren snapped. “Dori!”
“Okay. Chill. I don’t know if you’ve heard. Ananda is a producer now.” Dori sat back down and crossed her legs.
When Taren didn’t understand the correlation, she pressed Dori for more information. “Okay. And?”
“And—” She paused before she continued. “She wants to produce another show.”
Taren blinked. “Another Love My Way show? Are you serious?”
Dori shook her head. “Not exactly like that show.”
Taren felt her eyebrows draw together again. “Then what?”
/> “She wants a submissive to search for her Dom.” Dori cleared her throat. “Or Domme.”
The excitement zipping through Taren’s veins couldn’t be contained in that one spot. She leapt from the stool and paced. “Are you serious? You’re not joking about this?”
Dori shook her head. “Apparently my—” She did air quotes. “—character tested well with viewers. They want to see me find my perfect Dom now.”
“And?”
Dori looked at Taren like her skin had turned purple. “Are you serious? You think my husband would be down for me leaving him and our two-year old son for several months while strange men look at my naked body and spank my ass?”
“It’s all about the play. That’s what I read about in a book called The ABC’s of BDSM. It’s not about love.” Although Taren wanted it to be for her.
“I found my love. It took me a while to weed through all the weirdoes, but I found him. He helped me get over this past. Thank God he’s never seen the show and has no interest in watching it. For that reason, I haven’t told him about Ananda calling me. I’ve told her I have no interest in doing the show. I hope she takes the hint.”
“Yeah.” Taren stopped pacing. “What about me? Did you mention me when you—”
Dori interrupted Taren. “No. You are not going on that show.”
“Why not? I’m a year older than you were when you had done the show. I can handle it.”
“Are you serious? For one thing, if you really were interested in the lifestyle, you would have done something by now instead of sitting up in your apartment and watching the show over and over again.”
Dori had a point, but Taren wouldn’t let her friend know that. She stood her ground and stared at her while she continued listing why it would be a bad idea for Taren to do this show.
Dori said, “It’ll do a number on your head and your heart.” She sighed. “You were so close to having a great relationship with that dentist Mark and I paired you up with. Go for a nice guy like that. Be normal.”
“I don’t want to date a dentist.” Taren had no interest in being what people thought she should be. Maybe she could do this show in the place of Dori this time, both to pay her back and to satisfy her curiosity.
“Why not? You never know. He could do all that freaky stuff that you claim you want.”
“I do want it.” Taren crossed her arms over her chest. When she thought she came across as a petulant child, she relaxed her stance.
“If you did, you would have done it by now. You would be strung up in someone’s dungeon.” Dori shook her head. “You’ve never been one to wait for something. Although you do seem a bit flighty.”
Taren snickered. “I wish you would stop saying that.”
“And I wish you would grow up and forget all this nonsense.” Dori huffed. “I’m starving still, and you’ve ruined our dinners.” She went to the bedroom and retrieved her shoes.
With her out of the room, Taren glanced at the coffee table at Dori’s purse. She darted to it, removed her friend’s cell phone, and hid it under her butt when she sat back down.
“I’m going to hit a burger joint.” Dori picked up her purse. “Come on with me.”
“I’ll wait for you here. Get me a cheeseburger and fries.” She smiled.
“So now you want to play a Dominatrix?” Dori gave her a sloppy curtsy. “Yes, milady.” She laughed as she walked out of the apartment.
Taren didn’t even wait to hear Dori’s car starting. She unlocked her friend’s phone, knowing her password, the date Dori received Diego, and scrolled through her messages, hoping that Dori hadn’t deleted them all. No such luck. Dori had kept all her messages that had come from Taren, her husband and mother, but nothing from Ananda.
Maybe Dori had been kidding about that, baiting her to see if she still wanted to be in that lifestyle. She tossed the phone on the counter and leaned her head back. At that moment, Dori’s phone chirped with a new message.
Taren picked it up, expecting to see a message from Mark to her saying that he loved her and couldn’t wait for her to get home. Instead she saw something that made her spring out of her chair again.
Please, can we talk? I will make this experience worth your while. A.M.
Taren assumed “A.M.” stood for Ananda Morton. She took that chance and texted the stranger back. What is there to talk about?
She waited for a response. She tried keeping the message cryptic enough so that when this A.M. person responded, she would know the identity of the person.
Can I call?
The question nearly had Taren dropping the phone to the floor. She quickly responded. No.
OK. I still want you to be a part of the new show. You’ll be protected. Let’s discuss.
Taren’s heart pounded so hard, her inner ears throbbed. With shaky hands, she texted her back. Meet me for lunch tomorrow at that Mexican restaurant, Juan Pepe’s.
She kicked herself when she realized that a big producer like her may not still live in Virginia Beach. She probably had no idea of the restaurant.
The one off Laskin Road? I’ll be there at eleven.
Taren pumped her fist. She texted her back confirmation of their meeting. She erased the conversation and put the phone back on the table. She had her way in to the BDSM world. She would meet Ananda without Dori knowing. The plan couldn’t fail.
Chapter Three
Jace Morton paced in the cramped trailer that sat in the middle of a construction site. He didn’t mind getting out of his stuffy office. He wanted the experience to be a good one and not one where he had to put out fires.
As he held his cell phone to his ear, he thought he would push the device through his head. “I needed those tiles yesterday, not next week.”
“Sorry, Christian.” The voice of the man on the other line trembled as he spoke. “We ordered the tile from the manufacturer a month ago. They assured us it would be here last week. The freak snow storm held them back.”
Jace stopped in his spot, which allowed the outside smells to hit his senses. Through the window air conditioning unit, he caught the aroma of freshly cut lumber and roofing tar. Thank goodness industrial-grade tile covered the floor. He would have worn a hole in carpet by now.
“Snowstorm? It’s July. Where the fuck are these tiles coming from? Iceland? I don’t need excuses. I have buyers wanting to move in to their new home in two weeks. That’s not possible if they don’t have a floor to walk on or a damn backsplash to look at.”
The other line remained quiet for a moment. “Maybe you can put carpet down.”
Jace gritted his teeth. “Carpet. You want me to put carpet down in the mud room, kitchen, and bathroom. Is that what you’re saying? That’s your plan B?”
“I, uh—”
“Do me a favor. Don’t think. If you can’t fill my order, I’ll go somewhere else.” Before he disconnected the call, he had to make one other point very clear. “And I go by Jace now, not Christian. Got it?”
“Uh, yeah. Okay.”
Jace disconnected the call and threw the phone on the desk. He ran both hands over his hair, hoping to erase all the shit he’d endured today.
Hell, he hadn’t been putting up with crap just for that day. The last ten years had been torturous. No, not ten years. Longer. He had to count the lost years when he’d made some stupid choices in his youth.
He opened the top drawer of the desk and peered down.
“Don’t even think about it.”
Jace brought his attention up in time to see Aaron strolling toward him. He hadn’t even heard the door opening to the trailer when the big man entered. Jace hadn’t seen him since the awards dinner.
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, especially on my job site.” Jace glared at the man approaching him. “Besides, I only looked. I wasn’t going to smoke.” Jace slammed the drawer after giving one last glance at the pack of Marlboro cigarettes resting on top of loose change and pens.
“Bullshit. We all could
hear you outside the trailer, tearing the supplier a new asshole. I knew your next move would be to snag one of my cigs. So no tile?” The lithe African-American man sat on a tattered, yellow-and-red plaid couch.
Aaron’s skin tone always reminded Jace of sawdust, golden with imperfections. Aaron’s steel-toed boots had caked-on mud across the top and underneath. The splattered mud at the bottom of his jeans dried and started to break off in chunks. Jace missed living his life like that, the spoils of work evident on his person.
“No tile from that guy. I’ll find someone else who’ll give me what I need.” Jace came around from behind the desk and sat on it as he spoke to Aaron.
“Why don’t you let me worry about that? I am your foreman. I’m supposed to be an extension of you.” Aaron sniffed and turned his gaze away from Jace.
Jace should have been able to trust Aaron. He had control issues. Even after all these years, Jace couldn’t blur the lines between friendship and business.
Aaron pointed to him. “You aren’t even supposed to be here. You shouldn’t dirty up your cool suit.”
Jace didn’t have on the jacket, but at the mention of his clothing, he loosened his tie. His preference would have been to wear jeans, boots, and a cotton T-shirt like Aaron. He had meetings and had to look like a professional, like a man who owned and ran a successful company. Perception meant everything.
“I came out to do an inspection and I hear from the crew about issues on the job. I can’t sit back and wait to talk to you. I’m going to take care of things myself.” Jace unbuttoned the top button on his crisp, white shirt, starched stiff enough to be considered a torture device.
“Spoken like a true Morton.” Aaron chuckled.
Jace didn’t. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
When Jace watched the smile dripping from Aaron’s face, he knew his employee understood the error of his ways.
Aaron held up his hand. “Bad joke about the whole…” He snapped his wrist in the air and made a whipping sound. “You know. Your brother and all.”
Good. Aaron didn’t know about Jace’s involvement—or, rather, his former involvement—in the lifestyle. It had been a long time since he’d cracked a whip or even been in a dungeon. The little things he did with women he’d dated only stoked the fire in him to do more. He stopped. He stopped going to clubs. He stopped dating. He stopped it all.
Slave To Love Page 4
