Book Read Free

Submission: Guilty Pleasures #3 (BBW Erotic Romance)

Page 1

by Adriana Hunter




  Submission - Guilty Pleasures (#3)

  Dominated By The Billionaire

  BBW Erotic Romance

  Copyright © 2013, Adriana Hunter

  All Rights Reserved.

  Published by Wet Ink Publishing

  Adriana Hunter

  http://www.AdrianaHunter.com

  Connect via Twitter @ http://twitter.com/spicytales

  Join Adriana’s private mailing list at http://www.SpicyTales.com

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations and places are solely the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, including events, areas, locations and situations is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Submission: Guilty Pleasures #3 (BBW Erotic Romance)

  About The Author | Adriana Hunter writes stories for those who live to dream. Her stories run the gamut, from romance, fantasy, paranormal to captivating stories of seductive medieval nights, and wild, adult fairytales.

  From The Author | I’ve been creating stories for as long as I can remember. My childhood was a difficult one and I found solace in the beautiful worlds’ and flawless characters that I would create. As I got older, realism set in and I discovered that the most captivating characters in my mind were the ones that reflected our true nature. Beautifully broken characters. Imperfect men that have to be unraveled layer-by-layer and complex women who are often desperate to hide the pain that burns inside of fragile hearts, and at times, threatens to possess them completely.

  I woke up before the alarm went off, but remained in bed for a long time, thinking. My head was a bit clearer than it had been the day before, even if my emotions were still incredibly tangled and my heart was still aching.

  Two men had told me they loved me: Jake and Chase. Two men as different as night and day.

  And I loved them both...or at least I thought that I did.

  What’s that old song, Abby? Love the one you’re with? That’s me. But when I’m away from them, they both tear at my heart. Selfishly, I wish I could love both of them, not have to choose. But that won’t work because neither man is interested in sharing me with the other. And besides, I can’t continue to carry the guilt that I feel when I am with one, and away from the other. It’s like my heart is split into two pieces, unable to be fully given to just one man.

  Jake is dominant to my submissive and it’s a perfect relationship, at least on the surface. No strings attached, no romantic involvement, but the freedom to explore all that comes with a dominant submissive arrangement. Pain versus pleasure. My surrender...his control. Complicated in its own way, but nothing compared to what happens when someone steps out of the boundaries of such a relationship. Like Jake.

  Jake; gorgeous, sexy Jake. Tightly wound and under control Jake. Jake, who has secrets...so many secrets that I feel I can’t really be sure of exactly who he is.

  Jake... kind, gentle yet mysteriously dangerous Jake. The first man to tell me that he loved me.

  And then there is Chase.

  Chase owns a BDSM club and I’ll never forget the first night that I met him, and just how much pleasure he gave to me. The scene was indescribable. Chase tied me up with rope, intricate knots that took a long time to construct. I was immobile on a table, arms out to the side, legs spread wide. And completely naked, the kind of vulnerable naked that would normally throw me into a whirlwind of panic and anxiety yet with Chase I felt as though I would be okay, and that my body, regardless of its many curves, was beautiful...from head to toe.

  Chase had said not all rope play ends in a sexual encounter, but it was clear from the moment we started just how the night would end. The sexual chemistry between us lit up the room, washing away all concern for anything and anyone else. Including Jake.

  Jake said he’d learned something from our time at the club, from seeing me with Chase. He learned he didn’t want to—couldn’t—share me with anyone because his feelings were deeper than he realized. He loved me, and when a man loves a woman the last thing he wants to do is share that love with someone else.

  I learned something that night as well. I learned the power of temptation, the power Chase Thomas had over me.

  I don’t remember all of what happened at the club; toward the end it’s a faded blur of sensations and memories, contorted and confusing, and then it all goes black. But I remembered what mattered most.

  Because when Chase called the next day, asking to see me—no, not asking, exactly...Chase doesn’t ask as much as expect compliance—I went willingly, anxious to see him again.

  So now I’m caught between two men, each with a stranglehold on my heart, each charming and charismatic...and damaged in their own way. And neither is willing to share me with anyone, especially not with the other.

  And now I need to make a choice. Both Jake and Chase were finally honest with me about their pasts. Each told me things that were hard for them to talk about, much less describe in such detail so that I completely understood. I know it was terribly hard for them to reveal these secrets that they had kept hidden for so many years, but they trusted me...they both knew their secrets were safe with me. And they are. I will forever guard them with my heart for the pain behind their eyes is something I never want to see again.

  But I still have questions, of both men...and of myself. And I need to find the answers. This limbo we’re all in is killing me, hurting them and I’m the only one who can get us out of it. I just don’t know where to begin.

  Leslie found me mid-afternoon the following Wednesday. I’d gotten to work early; sifted through the rubble on my desk that I’d left behind the day before and managed to make a dent in my overflowing inboxes, paper and email, respectively.

  “Hey, you. Feeling better than yesterday?” She set a large Styrofoam cup of coffee in front of me. She carried a much smaller one in her other hand, obviously meant for herself. Apparently I looked like I needed the industrial-sized coffee cup.

  I glanced up quickly, motioning her to sit down. “Just give me a minute, let me finish this.” I typed a sentence, hit send and pushed the keyboard away.

  The coffee smelled wonderful, hazelnut mocha if I had to guess.

  “What’s this for? Do I still look like hell? Or whatever you said it was I looked like yesterday?” I’d left work early, almost no sleep the night before. The last night I spent with Chase.

  “ ‘Fifty shades of hell’ was what you looked like the last time you pulled an all-nighter with Jake,” she replied teasingly. “Yesterday you looked horrible after your all-nighter with Chase.” She pushed the cup across the desk toward me.

  “It’s an apology and a gift, all rolled into one. I wasn’t really fair to you yesterday. This must be hard...this...situation.” She waved her fingers in the air.

  “Yeah, it is.” I took a swallow of coffee, hot, caffeinated. Just what I needed.

  “So, what’s next? You have a plan? Something you can share? I know how big you are on secrets these days.” She grinned at me over the edge of her coffee cup.

  I set the cup down, watching the steam drift from the coffee. More secretive than you know, Leslie.

  “I don’t know, Leslie. It’s really complicated.” I suddenly felt awkward discussing my relationships with Leslie even though she was my closest friend. It felt like I was trading secrets. Secrets both Jake and Chase had trusted with me.

  Leslie nodded sympathetically, settling down in her chair. “I can imagine.”

  I took another fortifying swallow of coffee. The chime of an incoming email distracted me for a moment. Leslie
was still watching me.

  “Do you think if you talked about it, it would be easier? I’m always here, Abby. You know that.”

  I fidgeted in my chair. Did I really want to go into all the details with Leslie? I felt a pang of guilt; for Jake and Chase and their secrets. And a pang of guilt for my best friend, because right now, I really needed her, needed to not feel so alone with this situation.

  “Leslie, this is hard. These guys trusted me with their secrets, some pretty serious stuff. I don’t know...” I played with my pen, drawing aimless circles on my notepad.

  I looked up at her. And realized I needed to talk about this, even if it was hard. To save my own sanity, maybe.

  “There’s someone I think I need to find. Jake had a sub before me. Her name is Jane.” I took a deep breath.

  “She apparently had some kind of breakdown while they were having a session, something triggered a memory of abuse by her step-father.”

  “What would happen in a session that would do that? I thought you said these were safe sessions?”

  I could see the concern on Leslie’s face.

  “They are safe; they should be safe. But Jane was being disciplined by Jake; he was spanking her for disobeying while in submissive role.”

  Leslie scowled. “Wait. He was spanking her? And she let him? I don’t get this.”

  “I’ve been spanked. By both of them.” My voice was low. “Once as discipline, by Jake. And once...” I hesitated, my voice almost a whisper.

  “And once by Chase...at the club. The first time I saw him.”

  Leslie’s scowl deepened. “Oh, Abby, you’ve been holding out on me. You never told me that. Was it hard? I mean, after Jake?”

  I nodded. “But I want to talk about Jane now, not what happened with Chase or Jake.” I took another swallow of coffee. At this rate, I’d be up all night again.

  “Anyway, the spanking for discipline was apparently just like what her step-father did before he, well, did whatever he did. Jake didn’t go into details. He said she’d never gotten help for whatever happened. So she ran out and he never saw her again. She just vanished.”

  Leslie let out a breath. “Wow. Heavy stuff. So what’s your reason for wanting to find Jane? Doesn’t what Jake told you sound like the whole story?”

  “No. Or yes...or maybe it’s Jake’s version. I was so happy he’d finally let down his guard, let me in on why he’s so controlled all the time. He’s convinced he’d hurt Jane, that if somehow he’d have been less...aggressive...she’d have been okay.”

  I was circling a phone number on my scratch pad. “Apparently their sessions were quite intense, on all levels. Jake wasn’t the restrained dominant I know.”

  “So you think he’s a ticking time bomb? Like tie you to the bed and then go all wild on you?”

  I shook my head. “No, not so much. Or if he did, I’d probably like it.” I felt myself blush.

  “Chase is a lot like that. Not the tie-me-to-the-bed part...um, but the wild part. He’s quite...aggressive in his own way.” But he did tie you to a table. In public. Don’t forget that.

  “Yeah, but why do you want to find Jane? Do you think she has answers you’re not getting from Jake?”

  “I’m getting there. Chase knew Jane...or knows of Jane.” I waited. That was too big of a bombshell for Leslie to pass up. I was right. I cringed again. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

  “You’re kidding? Really? Like, from the club?” Smart girl.

  “Actually it’s Chase’s office manager, or assistant manager, or assistant something, Stacy, who knew her. They worked at the same dance club. Stacy told Chase that Jane told her that Jake abused her, beat her and treated her badly. Something like that. Not quite what Jake told me.”

  “Oh, man. So you’ve got two sides but you want it direct from the submissive’s mouth?” She leaned forward, a little too intense, a little too interested. This was what I wanted to avoid.

  “I guess that’s it.” And it was, pretty cut and dried.

  “So call Stacy. She must have Jane’s number, right?” Leslie sat back, sipping her coffee. I heard the chime of another incoming message. I tapped my mouse, bringing up an email from my boss, Burke.

  “Well...I don’t know. I mean, Jake said Jane disappeared. Cell phone disconnected, family hadn’t heard from her. I don’t know that Stacy would know anything else, but she’s the only connection left I can think of.”

  “So what are you waiting for? Call Stacy.” Leslie is pretty much straight to the point on things.

  “I am...I will. But I don’t want to call the club if Chase is there. I feel like I’m checking his story or something.”

  “You are! And you’re checking on Jake’s. You have a right to know the truth, don’t you? If you’re in doubt, you need to know, Abby.” Leslie reached across the desk, her hand resting on mine, squeezing it briefly.

  “This has gone past just who you’re going to be fucking in the future. It kind of involves your safety in either relationship, doesn’t it?”

  The number I’d been circling on my notepad was the number to Chase’s club. I’d written it down in what seemed like an eternity ago, on the day Jake had said we’d gotten an invitation to the club. To Chase’s club. To a club he’d been to before, with Jane.

  My mind went back to the conversations we’d had about visiting the club. How he’d heard that we’d need an invitation from the club’s owner in the first place.

  How he’d had things in storage he needed to put in the tower room.

  And his first message to me, on the dating site that brought us together.

  I clicked open the dating website, risking bringing the Human Resources department down to my office for accessing a personal site...and a personal bondage dating site at that...on a company computer. But I didn’t care.

  I clicked through to the first message Jake had sent me:

  To: Venus247

  From: Dom Meyers

  ‘Hello Venus247,

  I saw your profile tonight and it interested me a great deal. If you’d like to chat, please reply. I’m new to this site, and new to the BDSM world as well. I get the sense you are too.

  Dom Meyers’

  There it was, in black and white. New to the BDSM world as well.

  It wasn’t until now that I’d put all these pieces together. They didn’t fit. And it bothered me.

  Impulsively I dialed the number for Chase’s club. It’s Wednesday; the club is closed.

  But the phone was answered on the first ring. By a female voice, a voice I recognized as Stacy’s.

  The conversation was brief. I explained that I wanted to meet her. There was the briefest hesitation on Stacy’s end. I wasn’t sure if she was going to agree to see me.

  “I finish up here at midnight. There’s an all-night diner on I-45 South. You can’t miss it. Big red sign on the right, just before the exchange. I’ll meet you there.”

  Stacy was at the diner before me, waiting in a booth at the very back. She had a breakfast platter in front of her: eggs, pancakes, sausage, hash browns, along with juice and coffee. I slid into the booth across from her.

  “Hope you don’t mind that I ordered. I’m famished.” She tucked a forkful of pancake into her mouth.

  “No, not at all. It’s fine.”

  The waitress appeared and I ordered a decaf coffee and pie. I’d be up late anyway, no use compounding it with a caffeine jag. Stacy was watching me, her blue eyes intent.

  “You want to talk about Chase?” She started working through the hash browns, waiting for my reply.

  “Actually, no. I’d like to talk about someone else. Her name is Jane.” I waited for her reaction, not surprised that she had none. She wiped her mouth, took a drink of coffee.

  “Jane? What do you want to know?” Her tone was neutral but I sensed tension behind the suddenly serious blue gaze.

  “I was wondering if you could tell me about her and Jake...Jake Meyers. Chase told me that you knew her
from working at the same dance club. I know she disappeared, had some trouble sometime back. I wondered if you could tell me a bit more about that.”

  Stacy looked at me over the edge of her coffee cup. “Jane had a lot of problems. I think she tried to work them out by being a submissive or something. Can’t say that’s the best route to take when you have that kind of history, but we all do what we think is right, you know?”

  I nodded, unsure as to what she meant exactly, but desperate for her to continue.

  “But between you and I, I really think she chose the wrong guy to be her Dom. Jake was completely out of his league with her. Almost anyone would have been, really. She was a handful. A real lost soul with the kind of pain that you just don’t mess around with.” Stacy set down her cup, motioning to the waitress for a refill. She waited until the waitress had left our table before speaking again.

  “Did Chase tell you that she had been abused?” Her question caught me off guard.

  It occurred to me she didn’t know Jake was my Dom. I nodded. Close enough to the truth.

  “He did something that sent her over the edge. She’d told me some of the things he’d done to her so I wasn’t all that surprised.” Stacy was studying me, watching my face closely.

  “Abby, are you okay? You got real pale all of a sudden.”

  I shook my head. “Yeah, I’m fine.” My voice sounded totally unconvincing, even to myself. I shrugged, fidgeted for a minute and then gave up trying to bluff my way through this.

  “Jake is my Dom.” I met Stacy’s gaze, expecting some kind of negative reaction. She reached across the table, her hand on top of mine.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that but you really need to rethink that decision.”

  Stacy spent the next twenty minutes recalling every conversation she had with Jane about Jake. The more she talked, the harder it became to listen to all that she had to say. Nothing she said sounded anything like the Jake I knew. I finally held up my hands in protest, unable to stomach any more.

  “Please...this isn’t...it can’t be true. Maybe it’s Jane’s version of the truth, but it can’t be right.” My head hurt. Stacy had described some very dark and intense things, things that made my heart thud uncomfortably in my chest, made me incredibly uncomfortable. Jake had said their sessions were intense, but what Stacy had just described seemed almost surreal.

 

‹ Prev