Their Famous Dominant (Office Intrigue, 4)

by Nicole Edwards

  However, I had to consider what would change if she opted not to. I would support her regardless, even if that meant residing in Dallas permanently. I would make it work if I had to construct a damn building and house the Chatter PR talent agency out of it. In fact, I would do whatever it took to ensure that the three of us would be together permanently.

  I loved them. That was the bottom line. I’d never been in love before, but I was now and oddly, it didn’t scare me the way I’d expected. Sure, I felt somewhat out of control, but I’d learned a few things this week. A few very important things.

  When the soft moans and cries coming from my bedroom died down, I waited patiently, checking my email. A few minutes later, I heard footsteps in the hallway.

  “Oh, crap. I didn’t realize you were done already,” Troy said when he stopped in the doorway.

  I turned in my chair and smiled his way. “How would you? You were otherwise preoccupied.”

  He blushed, and I found the sight quite fascinating. From what I’d heard in that room, Troy the submissive had taken a brief vacation. And Clarissa, ever the sweet submissive, had enjoyed the hell out of it.

  “Did you … uh…”

  “Oh, yeah.” I smirked. “I heard. It sounded enjoyable.”

  He blushed a little more. “It was.”

  “Good. I figured I’d give the two of you a little privacy.”

  “So, you don’t mind that we…?”

  “That you what?” I took great pleasure in forcing Troy to complete his thoughts.

  “That we …” He glanced down the hall then back to me. “That we were together without you.”

  “Not at all. Why would I?”

  “I don’t know. Because you’re in charge.”

  That was the thing. I was in charge. I knew it on a deep level, but I also knew that I didn’t have to control every single move they made. I had my hands full with everything in my life. I didn’t want submissives who needed me to hold their hands and walk them through every minute.

  “But did I tell you to keep your hands off her?”

  “No.”

  “Or your mouth?”

  I wasn’t sure he could get redder than he was. “No.”

  “Unless I instruct otherwise, you can safely assume it doesn’t bother me.” I turned back around to face my laptop.

  “Is there anything I can get you, Master? Coffee? Breakfast?”

  “Coffee would be great. Then we need to get down to the office. I’ve got a few things to take care of.”

  “Of course.”

  I could still hear him breathing behind me, so I knew something else was on his mind. “Spit it out, Troy.”

  He moved into the room, so I turned to give him my full attention once more.

  “I know this seems a little off the wall, but…” He squared his shoulders. “I’m just a little confused about what I’m supposed to call you. You know … when we’re not around other Dominants and submissives. I mean, so far, it hasn’t been an issue since everyone at Chatter appears to be somehow integrated, but what happens when we’re in public? I know it’s going to happen one of these days. I just want to be prepared.”

  The boy could certainly ramble when he was nervous.

  “What do you want to call me?” I asked.

  He shrugged.

  I motioned him closer with a crook of my finger. “Kneel.”

  Without hesitation, Troy knelt on the floor in front of me.

  I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees. “You can call me whatever makes you comfortable. I only ask that you refer to me as Master when we’re playing. Absolutely when we’re in the club. Any other time, that’s entirely up to you.”

  “What about when we’re in public? I mean, Master is going to stand out. Someone is going to hear it and start asking questions.”

  It was my turn to shrug. “Like I said. Up to you.”

  “Would it bother you if I called you Master in public?”

  I flipped it around on him. “Would it bother you?”

  “I don’t know. But I don’t want to do anything to embarrass you.”

  I frowned. “Why in the fuck would it embarrass me if you called me Master in public?”

  “Because if someone heard it, then I’m sure there would be some speculation of some sort. Especially since I don’t refer to you by name at all.”

  He was right. It would. It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to put two and two together since I owned BDSM clubs. Someone would want to talk about it, to shine a light on my relationship, to find a way to make it derogatory. That was what they did.

  “I don’t give a shit what people say about me, Troy. You should know this by now. And I damn sure don’t do things I would consider embarrassing. You’re my submissive, are you not?”

  “Yes, Master.” His eyes had that glassy appearance I’d seen several times over the past week.

  “Then that makes me your Dom. If you choose to refer to me as such in public, I will acknowledge you with the pride it gives me to hear you say it.”

  He seemed shocked by this revelation.

  “If Clarissa referred to me as Master in public, I wouldn’t be embarrassed, so why would I be with you?”

  “Because you’re … not usually with men.”

  Ah. So that was what he was getting at.

  “Are you saying this is a game for me?” I prayed he wasn’t, but if that was the case, Troy was going to get intimately acquainted with my paddle.

  “No, Master. Not at all. I just… I don’t want you to take heat because of your … choices.”

  It was a little late for that, but Troy already knew that. I’d been informed that my face was on the front cover of every tabloid out there. Apparently, it was a big deal that I was potentially in a relationship with two people, one of them being my male assistant.

  Granted, the noise had died down somewhat when I left town and Clarissa remained, but I was sure that would change again once they figured out she was with me. Honestly, I wasn’t worried about it. This was my life and I wasn’t going to make excuses for it.

  “My choices are exactly that, boy. I want you. And Clarissa. I don’t give a shit who knows that.”

  “What if this is only temporary?” he countered. “What if you realize you’re not really into men?”

  I reached up and twined my fingers in his hair, tilting his head back and staring down at him. “I assure you, there is nothing temporary about this.”

  “I … I’m sorry, Master.” His eyes were wide, but I could see the heat there. This turned him on.

  “Is it temporary for you?” I asked.

  “No, Master. Not at all.”

  I studied him for a moment. I could see this from his perspective, even if I didn’t agree with it.

  “Nothing is a guarantee,” I told him, keeping my voice low as I smoothed his hair back. “And I’ll tell you one last time. I don’t make excuses for my actions. I want you. Whether it’s in private or in public. I don’t care who knows that. I’m damn sure not the type of man who would make you my dirty little secret, if that’s what you’re insinuating. Is it?”

  “God, no.” His eyes dropped. “Okay, maybe. But I didn’t mean to. I’m just confused. I’m still trying to figure out how this works.”

  Sliding my hand into his hair once more, I gripped firmly, then pulled back, forcing him to look at me. “It works the way we want it to work. The three of us make the decision on that. No one else. Does that clear it up for you?”

  He nodded, but I could tell there wasn’t much conviction behind his answer.

  “Let’s take this one day at a time, Troy. There’s no reason to make it harder than it is. You can call me whatever you’d like. As I said, the only time I expect you to refer to me as Master is when we’re playing or in the club. I’ve earned that respect from all submissives and I expect it. Any other time, I want you to do what’s most comfortable for you.”

  He was staring into my eyes as though trying
to read between the lines. Considering I’d never been the type to mince words, I hoped he didn’t look too long or too hard because he wasn’t going to find anything other than the truth.

  “Now, how about that coffee?”

  “It’d be my pleasure … Master.”

  I smiled because I loved the way that sounded coming from him. I wasn’t in denial when it came to what I was feeling for Troy. No, I’d never had feelings for another man. No, I’d never been sexually attracted to another man. That didn’t mean this was a passing fancy on my part. Whatever I felt, it was real, and it was potent.

  Troy stood, but before he turned, I grabbed his wrist and got to my feet.

  “You forgot to greet me appropriately when you woke up.”

  To ensure he understood what I deemed appropriate, I jerked him to me and crushed my mouth to his.

  After all, I didn’t want there to be any questions left unanswered.

  Troy

  THE NEXT TWO WEEKS PASSED so quickly I briefly wondered where the time went. Clarissa, Master, and I had spent time together and not only on a physical level, although there had been quite a bit of that, too. However, we’d spent hours talking, laughing, teasing. Of course, it wasn’t always fun and games. Master had wanted to address some of the bigger issues such as our individual concerns about how a relationship of this caliber worked.

  I wouldn’t have traded a single minute of the time we’d spent together.

  Due to the fact Master had quite a bit of business to attend to, we had left Chicago to go back to Dallas. Only this time, we didn’t take Zeke along with us. He stayed back so he could take care of his real job while Ransom stood sentry over both Clarissa and me. Master had only agreed once Clarissa assured him she would stay with us for the time being.

  Let me just say, spending that much time naked was not for the faint of heart. Anytime we were at home, Master insisted we were both naked. It had taken some time to get used to, but about a week in, I had a pretty good understanding of what it would be like to live in a nudist colony. Suffice it to say, I wasn’t eager to move to one.

  Then again, it did make for some erotic meals. Master had taken advantage of every opportunity. And I damn sure couldn’t complain since I’d had the pleasure of seeing Clarissa’s sweet little ass sans clothes for most of that time as well.

  Which made this moment seem almost ironic since we were standing in Clarissa’s closet—she’d commandeered one of the upstairs bedrooms for her things—while she panicked over what she wanted to pack.

  Since Master had convinced her to stay with him, Clarissa’s only negotiation had been him allowing her to have some of her things. The man had hired a company to bring the contents of her storage unit. All of it. So, there were some random couches and tables shoved into one of the garage’s empty bays, while her clothes and personal items had taken up residence in this bedroom.

  “I have no idea what I’m supposed to wear,” she said hurriedly as she darted back over to the closet.

  I followed her only to wind up standing back by the bed when she did an abrupt U-turn. Her suitcase was laid out, but all her clothes were tossed haphazardly on the bed, because she was still trying to figure it out.

  “If you have any suggestions, I’d love to hear them,” she said, her tone frantic.

  I was suddenly thankful Master had asked me to help her pack. Clarissa would provide a good distraction for a little while. After all, she wasn’t the only one panicking.

  Turned out, we were heading back to Chicago and this time it was only partially business. Tuesday through Thursday would be all about Chatter PR and the up-and-coming talent agency. And then Friday night we would be going to Dichotomy to experience the first lock-in in club history. Evidently, this was a big deal. Since this club was at capacity, it was a huge undertaking. There were meals to be delivered, sessions to be monitored, people to be watched.

  The good news was we weren’t going there to work.

  However, we were going to play and we all remembered what our last trip to the club had turned out like. I was praying we didn’t have a repeat.

  I made my way over to Clarissa, reached for her hand, then pulled her into me. She came willingly, her hands landing on my chest as she stared up with wide brown eyes.

  “Whatever you normally wear will be fine.” Unable to resist, I leaned in and kissed her. “You’ve already interviewed with them once. This isn’t formal. I doubt you have to be too professional since you haven’t accepted the job yet.”

  Oh, and we were also going so Clarissa could have her follow-up meeting with the partners. All five of them. Master included.

  Yes, the deal was done. Master was officially another partner in Chatter PR Global and the CEO of the Chatter PR talent agency.

  “You have a way of making it sound easy,” she said with a smile, then pushed up on her toes.

  Clarissa’s lips melded to mine and she sighed. I wrapped my arms around her and held her as I tried to ease some of her stress with a simple kiss. Several minutes later, when we pulled apart, she was smiling up at me.

  “That was a nice distraction.”

  My thoughts exactly. “That’s what I was going for.”

  She took a deep breath, then let it out. “I don’t have a fancy wardrobe,” she said, motioning toward the clothes on the bed.

  “Neither do I. And I’ll be the first to tell you, Master doesn’t care. If he wants you to wear something specific, he’s going to buy it for you.”

  “But he shouldn’t have to.”

  I laughed. “Have to? That man does not do anything because he has to. He does it because he wants to. Plus, you should probably factor in the amount of time he’ll likely require us both to be naked.”

  “Well, when you put it that way…” She reached for a sexy little black dress and lifted it up.

  Apparently, I’d helped to make up her mind, because she spent the next ten minutes folding her clothes and putting them neatly into the suitcase. She had another small case that held her toiletries.

  I waited, leaning against the doorjamb as she finished packing. When she went to pick up the larger suitcase, I cleared my throat and moved toward her.

  “I’ve got your luggage,” I told her. “You get whatever else you need.”

  When she flipped off the lights in the bedroom, I grabbed both suitcases and followed her back downstairs.

  “I just need to get my laptop and my purse.”

  “I’ll let Master know we’re ready to go.”

  Her eyes widened and she glanced around as though she’d forgotten something.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She took a deep breath. “I’m just nervous. I don’t want to forget anything.”

  I hefted up both of the heavy suitcases. “I can’t imagine you did.”

  This time when she laughed, it sounded slightly more natural. “You’re right. Okay, I’m ready.”

  “Relax, baby. It’s gonna be fine.”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Clarissa

  BY THE TIME TROY AND I were safely stowed inside Trent’s luxury jet a short time later, I was pretty sure Troy was ready to eat his words.

  Relax, baby. It’s gonna be fine.

  So far, this trip to the airport had been anything but. Between the wall of reporters who’d been outside Trent’s house and the additional ones here at the airport, it hadn’t been smooth sailing by any means. It had taken a solid thirty minutes to get out of the driveway because the security guards had been forced to shift back the reporters just so the limo could get out.

  “Clarissa, relax, baby,” Troy crooned, taking my hand and leading me to one of the leather chairs.

  My eyes widened as I stared back at him. “I can’t believe you’re still singing that tune. How can you say that when there are so many people yelling things at us while cameras snap pictures of our every move? I will never get used to that. Never.”

  I still couldn’t believe the madness I’d
witnessed a short time ago. I had never seen anything like it. Chaos was the only word I could come up with to describe it. And even that didn’t seem adequate.

  “Why are they doing this?” I asked Troy when I eased into the chair and he took a seat next to me. “Aren’t we old news by now? I don’t understand. I thought Trent said they would move on to the next big story.”

  I liked that Troy was still holding my hand as we sat down. There was something about the small gesture that made me feel safe. I had no idea where Trent was. The last time I’d seen him had been when we all climbed out of the limousine. His phone had rung, and he’d stopped to take the call while Troy led me up into the jet.

  “Unfortunately, we are the next big story,” Troy said with a sigh.

  “Why?”

  “I’ll have to let Master explain.”

  That didn’t sound good. Clearly something had happened. I mean, this wasn’t the usual chaos that followed Trent everywhere. Sure, everything Trent did, every step he made was under a microscope, but there was additional curiosity here. Only, I didn’t know what they were after.

  “Why can’t you tell me? What happened?”

  Troy’s gaze dropped, and I knew for a fact he knew what was going on but he wasn’t sharing.

  Trent’s voice sounded from the front of the plane. “Yep, I hear you, Alicia. However, Ken went too far. He’s violated my privacy, put the people I care about in danger. I’m not going to let it slide. You can bet your ass you’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”

  My eyes were locked on the larger-than-life Dom as he stood there, his cell phone to his ear.

  He was wearing one of those immaculate suits he was so fond of—Gucci or Prada or something ridiculously expensive—and it was hard to take my eyes off him. The man was sex on legs, so handsome it was hard not to stare at him.

  I would’ve thought after the past couple of weeks in his presence that some of that glitter would’ve worn off. That wasn’t the case. It seemed every time I saw him, I was just as starry-eyed. Only now I wasn’t wondering if and when the other shoe would drop. Trent was making a concerted effort to ensure Troy and I knew exactly where we stood with him. And I greatly appreciated it. Especially when I woke up cuddled between the two of them. There was nothing like that feeling. Nothing in the world.