by Lexi Blake
He caught Mike’s attention. “Can I get the lady a piña colada?”
She shook her head. “I would prefer a vodka tonic.”
He frowned. “Really?”
“Sweetie, you might be able to drink those three thousand calorie drinks all day long and still look like a Greek god, but I can’t.”
Mike started making her drink but it bugged Jesse. “You’re beautiful, Phoebe. You don’t have to change a thing.”
Her hand slid over his. “I know you feel that way. It’s one of the things I actually really like about the men at the office. Not a one of you has a thing for stick-thin women. But I have to stay in shape. However, if you want to tell me I’m pretty again, I won’t hold it against you.”
“You’re gorgeous, baby.” He took a long sip of his drink. “Why are you here?”
She accepted her drink with a polite “thank you” before turning back to Jesse. “I’m curious. I shouldn’t be. If you asked a few months ago what I thought of this lifestyle, I would have said it was abusive.”
“That’s because you were ignorant about it.”
“There is that,” she conceded. “I was also afraid of it. I thought there was one way to love and be loved and I’d found it. My husband was very gentle with me, very protective. I couldn’t quite get the two ideas to mesh in my head.”
“What changed your mind?”
“I don’t know that it has. Not the intolerance part. I get that it’s not abusive. It’s a form of communication in the end. It’s a way for partners to state what they want in an environment that won’t judge them. I don’t hate that. I just don’t understand why you can’t just make love. Why does there have to be all the other stuff involved?”
At least they were talking about it now. Before, she would always change the subject, and he’d gotten the idea that she would never be interested and any sex life they had would be vanilla. He could have handled it, but they could be so much more. “I know what you’re saying. I kind of thought the same things when I hired on and Big Tag insisted I come to Sanctum. I didn’t get why I had to wear a set of leathers and spank some chick in order to be on his team.”
“And I would be surprised if you handled it well. How could you accept some woman calling you Master after what you went through?”
It was a reasonable question, though he winced a little at her tone. Patience. He hadn’t understood at first either. “It’s just a word, Phoebe. It has the power we give it. That’s what I learned from here. I learned that whatever happens between two consenting adults isn’t wrong. I still won’t do any blood play or knife play. That bothers me, but that’s okay, too. Sanctum is a place where I can just be me and no one judges me. They accept me. Big Tag brings us all here because this place, this life, binds us together. It makes us a family.”
He could have sworn he saw a sheen of tears in her eyes before she covered them with a shake of her head and a bright smile. “Okay. I can understand the beauty of that. So what do we do, Sir?”
That got his motor running triple time. “Phoebe, you understand there doesn’t have to be anything sexual about play, right?”
“I understand the theory behind it. It can be about exploration and relaxation. Most club encounters don’t end in sexual intercourse. Although Simon tried to make me think yours do.”
“I have never had sex with a submissive at this club.”
“Why?”
“Because they weren’t mine. Because my heart was engaged somewhere else.”
Her eyes closed briefly as if she was in pain. When she opened them again, she put a hand over his. “Jesse, I don’t know what I can offer you. I know I would like to try this thing with you. I know I enjoyed that moment in your office before you were a complete douchebag and ruined everything.”
Well, at least she called it like she saw it. “I’ll try not to be a douchebag again.”
“I’m still leaving at the end of this assignment. I have to get back to my real life.”
He wasn’t sure why her real life had to be thousands of miles away from him, but he didn’t want to argue with her tonight. She was here. She was bending. He wasn’t going to make her break. “Then we should set the parameters. You’ve given me yours; I’ll give you mine. Just for the night. Anything else, we discuss as it comes up, but you have to talk to me, Phoebe. This doesn’t work in any way if you think I can read your mind.”
“It’s hard to talk about,” she admitted. “My husband and I were very young. We just kind of went with the flow, if you know what I mean.”
“I take this seriously. I take you seriously, and that means I can’t go with the flow. The flow often leads to misunderstandings, and I don’t want that. Tonight, I’m in charge. You’re going to obey me or we go upstairs and we play games for the rest of the night. I’m willing to be patient with you.”
“I don’t know that we have time for patience.” She shook her head. “I’ve thought about this for days. I want to explore this with you. I read the contract. I’m actually quite good at following orders. I also understand that I should have a safe word.”
He could make that easy on her. “Tonight your safe word is no. You tell me to stop and I do. You see something that flips a trigger and we sit down and talk about it. I’m in charge, but my main goal is to see that you’re safe and happy. That’s all I want for you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”
Her hand found his again. It seemed easier for her every time she took it. “You’re a good man, Jesse Murdoch.”
“I’m glad you think so. I know I’m not as strong as the other guys.”
“What? That’s ridiculous. You are the strongest man I’ve met and I won’t hear anything else. And that’s a…what do you call it…a hard limit for me. I think you’re wonderful and I won’t hear you say anything differently.” She bit her bottom lip and her eyes narrowed. “Hey, do I get to spank you when you talk bad about yourself?”
“I am a really good man. Strong. I’m so strong.” A light happiness filled him. Doms could learn things, too.
She finished her drink and slid off the barstool, holding out her hand. “Show me around?”
He pushed his glass away and entangled his hand in hers. “Sure.”
He wanted to show her everything. If they had so little time, he was going to make the most of it.
* * * *
The only time her hands stopped shaking were when they were in Jesse’s. Phoebe stood close to him and watched as Jacob Dean used a paddle on his wife’s backside. She gasped with every smack, but there was no way to miss how Serena’s skin flushed and her eyes dilated in what looked like pure pleasure.
Adam Miles stood to the side, watching indulgently. There was a plush robe in his hands, ready for Serena when she was through with her scene.
Jesse stepped aside, allowing a woman to move through the crowd. It put him behind her. She couldn’t see him. Just as she was about to turn and move to be close to him again, his arm wrapped around her from behind, pulling her against his body.
Safe. She was safe again. She let her head rest back on his chest.
The last several days had been a mixture of heaven and hell. Heaven was waking up to find herself in his arms, snuggled close and warm. Hell was realizing that her brain hadn’t even tried to fool her. She’d known it was Jesse who held her so close. Years of dreaming of Jamie, of holding on to that moment right as she woke up when she could fool herself that he was still with her, that her nightly visits with him were real, and a couple of days close to Jesse had erased them.
Guilt seemed to be her best friend. Grief had taken that role for so long that the guilt was almost a welcome change. Grief gave her no reprieve. Guilt would flee for a while. It gave her moments where she forgot to feel bad. She’d spent whole days with Jesse, cooking and talking and playing games, and it would only hit her at certain moments. She would be laughing and getting close to him because her body seemed magnetized when he was around. She would find herself reachi
ng for him or turning her face up to his, their mouths so close together. That was when guilt came back with a vengeance.
“Do you see how careful he is with her?” Jesse whispered, his breath warm against her ear. “It sounds like he’s really giving it to her hard, but he’s actually going easy on her. He spreads out the smacks, giving her time to rest before he goes at it again. It’s all about sensitizing her skin, flooding her system with arousal.”
His voice was getting her aroused. He’d been explaining scenes to her, but not in an academic way. Jesse talked about feelings and what the Dom was trying to achieve. They’d watched several scenes and Jesse had explained how the implements of “torture” were really there for the submissive’s pleasure.
The one time he’d spanked her, she’d had the orgasm of a lifetime shortly afterward. Could she shove her guilt aside long enough to try again? This time it wouldn’t end in the building being invaded. This time she would make sure Jesse got something out of it, too.
She just wasn’t sure what. She’d never taken the lead when it came to sex. She’d just been happy to please Jamie and get a little something in return. Jamie’s arms around her had seemed like the best thing in the world, the only feeling she needed out of sex.
Damn but she wanted that fire Jesse had introduced her to. She craved it, and being close to the man who had given it to her had just made things worse. She might have been able to forget it if he wasn’t always there, always tempting her by taking his shirt off and smiling that insanely gorgeous smile of his.
“Ah, I think they’re done,” Jesse whispered. “They’ll be in a privacy room before you can blink.”
Sure enough, Adam was right there, wrapping the robe around his wife’s body and lifting her into his arms. Jake grabbed his kit, shoving the paddle inside, and then he was racing after them, the eager look on his face making Phoebe tear up.
They were alive. They were in love. God, she missed that.
“You had enough? We could go back to the bar,” Jesse offered, moving to her side again now that the scene was over.
She wasn’t ready to go back. If they went back to the bar, the evening would be over and they would eventually go upstairs and turn off the lights and she would lie there wishing for something she shouldn’t, feeling alone and guilty.
“Can we watch Ian?” The big guy seemed to be getting something ready. He’d walked up on stage and started moving equipment around. Charlotte stepped up on stage with him. She looked surprisingly innocent in her modified fet wear. She wore a long skirt, but her breasts were covered with a leather bra. Her belly was on full display and her hand seemed drawn to it. She was always resting her hand there as though she found it soothing to make the connection. She smiled brightly at her husband, who frowned her way.
“Sure. He’s doing a demo tonight,” Jesse explained. “Though it looks like he won’t be using his wife. This is what we like to call an extra scene. It’s one the Dom didn’t really see coming.”
She loved how open and happy he looked. He was smiling and relaxed, like he’d been before her secret had come out, except there was really nothing between them, no wall of untruth to hold her back. Just that guilt creeping back in the happier she felt.
“What do you mean you’re not using me?” Charlotte Taggart’s words rang through the dungeon.
“I already told you I’m using another sub, one who isn’t pregnant with my child.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m fine, Ian. The baby is fine.”
He turned back to his wife. “I told you I won’t risk you going back into the hospital.”
“The doctor said the possibility of that is very low.”
“The doctor can bite my ass.” He leaned over and Phoebe could only barely hear him. “The doctor has never had to mourn you, Charlie. So no. This is simply an exhibition. I took a class and I would like to practice and see if anyone else wants to learn how to do this. If they do, I’ll bring in an instructor. There is nothing intimate or personal about this scene. However, if your jealousy is so great you can’t allow me to even perform an exhibition on another person, I’ll skip the scene.”
She had to admit that Taggart had the intimidation thing down. She wasn’t sure what she would do if she were in Charlotte Taggart’s shoes. Charlotte merely rolled her eyes. “You are such a drama llama. Fine. But I get to pick your partner.”
“Drama llama?” Taggart’s jaw had dropped a little. “You do know I’m more like an elephant. I never fucking forget. The minute that boy is born, your ass is mine. I’ve got a list of punishments that will make your head spin.”
“I’ll look forward to it and she’s a girl.” She winked Taggart’s way and turned to the crowd. Phoebe nearly shrank back when she realized where Charlotte’s eyes had fixed. “Phoebe, I think my husband would feel infinitely better if he got to beat on you for a while.”
She shook her head and started to turn to walk right back upstairs. “Nope.”
“Chicken.”
Phoebe stopped and turned, staring at Charlotte and trying to judge if she was serious. “That is the most immature thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.”
“Oh, then you haven’t been listening to her very long. Give her time. It gets way worse.” Taggart stood on the stage, his eyes lit with mirth. He did have the most bent sense of humor.
“Chicken shit,” Charlotte continued. “That’s actually what I meant to say. You’re a little chicken shit, Phoebe Graham. Or is it Grant?”
Taggart nodded. “See, there it is.”
“Do you really think calling me names is going to work on me?” Anger started to build in her system. She hated the bullying crap.
Charlotte stepped off the stage, moving carefully down the stairs. Phoebe was well aware that every eye in the dungeon was on them.
“Maybe we should go back to our room,” Jesse offered, looking between Phoebe and Charlotte.
“Maybe we should have this out here and now.” She wasn’t backing down from some pregnant chick. “You know it’s really unfair of you to pull this shit while you’re pregnant and I can’t show you just how chicken I’m not.”
Charlotte grinned as she approached. “That’s the best part of being pregnant. I can say anything I like and no one gets to punch me. As to why I’m being such a bitch, that’s easy. I’m doing that for you.”
“Well, don’t let me forget to send you a fucking thank you note.”
“If I don’t push you, you’re going to end up going back upstairs and you won’t have tried a damn thing. Jesse won’t push you. He’s too sweet, but I think you need a little shove because I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“Shouldn’t that be my call?”
Charlotte’s head shook. “Absolutely not because you’re a chicken.”
This was the most immature argument she’d ever been in, and she couldn’t seem to force her way out. “I am not. You know I spent time in a Chinese prison. It wasn’t exactly the Ritz and I’ve got the scars to prove it. I’m not some wilting flower.”
“Then you can handle one little flogging,” Charlotte shot back. “They’re not even stingy floggers. Are those deerskin, babe?”
Taggart held up a set of floggers. “Yes, two perfectly matching floggers. Same weight, same material. Deerskin. They’re soft and produce a nice thud.”
Floggers. Those were big old floggers and Ian Taggart would be wielding them. “I’ll do it with Jesse.”
“Uh, I’m not qualified to do Florentine,” Jesse said. “It’s two floggers working in time. If you do it right, you pretty much create a circle-eight pattern. It’s really cool to watch, but you have to be careful to stay on the big muscles, the shoulders, butt. You don’t want to hit the wrong place or you could damage the sub’s kidneys. I would have to practice on Darla for a couple of weeks before I would be willing to do it.”
“Who’s Darla?” She’d figured out that Sanctum was full of gorgeous, submissive women and they all seemed to want her man…w
ell, they all seemed to want Jesse.
It was annoying.
Jesse’s hand found hers, squeezing gently. “She’s a life-size doll. We use her to practice on.”
She still didn’t like Darla. And she definitely didn’t like the idea of being at Taggart’s mercy.
Jesse let go of her hand. “It’s all right. We’ll go to the bar and have another drink or we can just call it a night.”
Damn Charlotte Taggart and her manipulations. “No. I’ll do it. Does my safe word work on him?”
“In this setting it does.” Sometimes when Taggart smiled he looked like a shark getting ready to go into feeding-frenzy mode. Unfortunately, this was one of those times.
“It’s just no for tonight, Tag,” Jesse explained.
“That’s no fun. I thought she would pick expellifucktis or something,” Tag replied.
“It’s expelliarmus,” she corrected. “And actually that’s a good one. I really wouldn’t be thinking that in the middle of this and it is a disarming spell that forces your opponent to drop whatever they’re holding, so it works.”
Now she sounded like a nerd.
“Is that Harry Potter stuff?” Jesse asked.
Yep, she was a super nerd. “Yes and I think Ian would make a good Voldemort.”
“He was a pussy.” Taggart gestured to the play area. “Now if Hermione here would please take the stage, we can get started. Jesse, tie her to the middle cross, please.”
“Cross?” Phoebe hesitated.
Jesse pointed to the back of the stage where there was a wooden X on the wall. There were leather cuffs on the top and bottom of the X, obviously where her hands and feet would go.
It struck her suddenly that she would be all alone up there. She would be stripped down and vulnerable and at the mercy of a man who likely had none.
Was this their version of revenge? Was this how they got back at her for lying to them? She stared at that cross and hated Phoebe Graham in that moment. This vulnerability wasn’t her. She was strong. She’d built up walls over her lifetime that were so strong almost no one could get through them.
