Taming Rex

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Taming Rex Page 2

by Becca Jameson


  Another quick nod. “Right. Of course. Black?”

  He searched his mind, shaking off the bombarding thoughts of her kneeling in front of him, holding up a cup of coffee. It took him a second to understand her question. Oh, right. The coffee. “Black is fine.”

  “’Kay. Be right back.” She spun around and fled the room, her feet shuffling quickly.

  Rex didn’t take a full breath until he could no longer hear her. When she was gone, he dropped into his chair, muscles lax, arms hanging at his sides. He was exhausted and the day hadn’t started yet.

  Working with a partner was out of his comfort zone. Working with someone potentially more brilliant than him was unnerving, though it had happened on occasion in his line of work, so he wasn’t overly shocked. Working with a gorgeous woman who might possibly be submissive whether she knew it or not was a serious problem.

  Surely the reason his mind was wandering to thoughts of dominating his damn coworker was because it had been a while since he’d last dominated anyone. Perhaps a trip to Zodiac Friday night would help him clear his mind. He could find a submissive to work with and replace thoughts of Erica on her knees from his head.

  Rex pulled himself together and grabbed the stack of file folders on the corner of his desk, quickly flipping through them to choose one for Erica to start on. When she returned, he wanted to be on his game.

  Chapter 3

  Erica stepped into the break room, grateful no one else was there, and took several deep, cleansing breaths. She’d already been at work for two hours, though Rex didn’t know that. Or maybe he suspected since she’d finished his current task before he arrived.

  It was still early. Only eight. The guard she met at the front desk downstairs had luckily had her on his list of new employees, and he’d been gracious enough to accompany her to the tenth floor, let her in, and show her where her office was. Only one other person had been on the floor when she’d arrived, a man in a huge corner office. He’d been on the phone when she passed him, and he hadn’t emerged yet.

  Erica hurried over to the Keurig, quickly figured out where the K-cups were, and started brewing. She added cream to her cup while she waited.

  Rex Kyle was not at all what she’d expected, though that was absurd. She shouldn’t have expected anything in particular. She hadn’t had any information about him, so nothing should have influenced her.

  But she was influenced by the nature of her chosen profession. She was a nerd. She knew it. Everyone knew it. Other professional ethical hackers were also nerds. They were a unique breed.

  Rex, however, wasn’t as geeky as most hackers. He had short black hair, cut stylishly, blue eyes, and pale skin. His khaki pants and loafers were designer and fit him perfectly. His button-down shirt was a medium blue, the top two buttons undone.

  Okay, so maybe most dorky men dressed like that, but Rex had style. Nothing was ill-fitting or too small or too large. Either he knew how to shop, or someone shopped for him.

  She flinched as she considered the fact that he might have a wife or a girlfriend, or hell even a boyfriend. That shouldn’t bother her. Why, then, was she unnerved?

  Because he’s hot. And he’s smart. Granted, he was also kind of…angry or something. She got the vibe that he didn’t want her there, which pissed her off since he’d judged her before he met her, or he didn’t like working with women, or he thought she was too young. Any number of things could have made his face scrunch up the moment he met her.

  You’re reading too much into it. Maybe he’s just awkward. You certainly are.

  The first cup of coffee finished, and she slid a second cup under the machine and started it over again. She tapped her fingers on the counter as she waited. She knew she was a fidgeter. She always had been, always moving. If she was standing, she would wring her fingers together. If she was seated, she would bounce a leg. If she didn’t pull her hair back, she would play absently with a strand for hours while working at the computer.

  Everyone she’d ever spent any time with had eventually told her to stop moving because she was driving them bonkers. Her mother had done so a bazillion times.

  Meeting new people exacerbated her problem, and if they didn’t seem to like her, it would get worse. Today was going to be a very long, challenging day. Hopefully, she could bury herself in an assignment and block out the world around her.

  Block out Rex. He was intense. She’d found him judging her several times in their short discourse. Thus the reason she was currently tapping her fingers on the counter in the break room. She stared at her hands. She needed lotion. Her skin was too dry. Her blunt-cut nails were rounded at the tips, and the only reason they weren’t shorter from her biting them was because she’d spent months breaking that habit a few years ago.

  Years of self-talk and research had left Erica only marginally equipped to deal with regular people. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and blew it out slowly as she slid into her happy place for a moment. Lucky for her, she’d discovered—quite by accident—the perfect solution to her anxiety.

  Submission.

  It wasn’t for everyone, and she never shared her secret with anyone in her vanilla life, but she’d learned that if she spent one or two nights a week at a fetish club, she could release some of her pent-up stress and regroup with herself.

  As soon as she found out this long-term assignment would be in Miami, she’d done some research and narrowed her possibilities down to two clubs. One was called Breeze. The other was called Club Zodiac.

  Today was Wednesday. She would line up a visit to one of those clubs for Friday. Then all she needed to do was get through three days of work before she ventured out and found her happy place.

  Three stress-filled days working in close proximity with a man who wasn’t exactly welcoming or friendly. Perhaps he was simply as awkward as she was. Hard to tell.

  The Keurig sputtered to a stop, and she threw away the used K-cup and slid the second cup from the machine. Walking carefully so as not to spill the hot coffee on herself or the floor, she made her way back to her assigned office.

  She was holding her breath as she returned, but Rex seemed to have relaxed somewhat in her absence. He was seated in his chair, two monitors on, a pile of folders at his side. He spun around and smiled when he heard her approach, looking far less annoyed than earlier. “Thank you so much. I promise after I down half this cup, I’ll be much more human.” He took the black coffee from her and sipped it, moaning around the taste of the elixir.

  Erica slid into her own seat, close to him, but not so close that they would bump into each other. Plus, there was plenty of space in the room along this wall. She could move down some. Or he could. But then again, if she started moving things, she might give him the wrong impression and cause him to think she didn’t want to be close to him or that he smelled bad or something.

  She jerked herself from her wandering thoughts, glad she hadn’t voiced any of that. She was aware that her brain could fire thoughts at a pace that rivaled her mouth at times. When she turned to look at Rex, she found him watching her. His look… God, she hadn’t imagined it at all. He had a way of staring at her that made her squirm worse than usual.

  Something about the way he looked at her… As if he were dominating her. Or wanted to.

  She shuddered. Obviously, she was mistaken. She’d been thinking about lining something up for the weekend and caused herself to project her needs on anyone around her. Rex Kyle had probably never been near a BDSM club in his life.

  Chapter 4

  After three intense days of working side by side with the intense Rex, Erica was beyond glad to head for a local club. She was even more grateful that Lincoln Walsh, one of the owners of Club Zodiac, had approved her temporary membership. She hadn’t been to a club in several weeks, and she was itching to submit. She prayed she would be able to find a Dom willing to give her a timeslot—preferably one who would leave her backside heated enough that she had to sleep on her belly tonight. U
nfortunately, it turned out she would have to work a half day tomorrow, but she could go in late. She could manage that as long as she got five hours of sleep.

  Erica chose her outfit carefully and then stuffed it into her oversized purse. She would change when she arrived at the club. It was far too hot out in Miami to arrive wearing fetish wear concealed under a long coat.

  She was well aware that most clubs didn’t really get busy until after midnight, but she arrived closer to eleven, knowing she would need to fill out paperwork and hoping to arrive early enough to get on someone’s play schedule.

  A cheerful woman who introduced herself as Kerry greeted Erica in the entrance room, and moments later Lincoln joined her. He extended a hand. “Lincoln Walsh. Nice to meet you. If you’ll follow me, we’ll get you sorted out.”

  Erica was surprised when Lincoln led her past the main play room and then up a flight of stairs.

  He turned toward her as they reached the top. “Sorry. The offices are all above the main club on the third floor.”

  “No problem.” Erica smiled at him. “Thank you so much for adding me as a guest tonight,” she stated as she continued to follow him into a spacious corner office with large windows on two walls.

  Lincoln pointed toward a seat across from his desk and then rounded the desk to sit across from her. “You said you’ve just moved here?”

  “Yes, from Syracuse. I went to the university there.” She sat up straight, trying not to fidget, hands fisted in her lap.

  “Ah, nice. Beautiful area of the country.” He shuffled through some papers on his desk and presented her with a manila folder. “Standard forms. You were a member of a club in New York, right?”

  “Yes. I’ve been a regular there for two years. I’m…” she chewed on her bottom lip a moment, “intense. At work I mean. I find I really benefit from submission on the weekends.”

  He nodded. “I understand. That’s true for many people.”

  “Is there a chance you could recommend someone I could scene with tonight?”

  “Of course. What do you have in mind? Tell me what type of play you’re looking for.”

  “I’m fond of a little pain. No blood, mind you, but I do like to be struck with any number of items.” Somehow she had no trouble asking for what she wanted in a club. It was like the moment she stepped through the front door, even though she didn’t know anyone at Zodiac, she assumed the role of a totally different person. It calmed her immeasurably.

  Another nod from Lincoln. “Got it. You might enjoy a scene with Dayton. He’s been a member for years and fills in when we need him to work. I trust him implicitly.”

  “Thank you.” Erica relaxed a bit more as she picked up the file, relieved to know she wouldn’t have to wander around for two hours trying to make her own connection.

  It took her fifteen minutes to read through the fine print, finding nothing out of the ordinary before she signed the forms. When she handed the file back to Lincoln, he rose to his feet. “Great. I’ll show you to the lockers where you can stow your street clothes. Zodiac doesn’t discriminate or make any judgements about gender, so the restrooms have a mix of people.”

  She smiled. “Glad to hear it.” She would have been shocked if the club had any other policy.

  A soft knock at the door brought a smile to Lincoln’s face, and he strode across the room ahead of Erica to open the door. A petite woman in her mid-twenties with long brown ringlets and gorgeous green eyes lifted onto her tiptoes to give Lincoln a brief kiss.

  Lincoln cupped the back of her neck and then stepped to one side. “Erica, this is my wife, Sasha. Sasha, Erica just moved here from New York.”

  Erica closed the distance and shook hands with Sasha. “Nice to meet you.” The woman was stunning in a loose, pale pink dress that landed just below her butt and was held up by dainty lace straps. Erica herself was currently dressed in the prim and proper clothes she’d worn to work, and she was itching to change.

  Lincoln tucked a finger under his wife’s chin and lifted her face to his gaze. “Would you mind showing Erica where the lockers are and giving her a tour? I need to line up someone to do a scene with her.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He smiled at her and kissed her nose. “I like this dress. Good choice. Lose the panties before you return.”

  Sasha flushed before lowering her gaze. “Yes, Sir.”

  Lincoln spun her around, gave her butt a playful swat, and stepped out of the way so Erica could follow. “Sasha will help you with anything you need.”

  “Thank you again.”

  “You’re welcome to come anytime you want for this first month. If you decide you want to join, let me know, and I’ll make arrangements for that too.”

  Erica nodded and hurried to follow Sasha back down the stairs, past the entrance area, and down a short hallway. They stopped at a door on the left, and Sasha pushed through it, giving a wide hand sweep to indicate the room. “It’s not fancy, but it works. There are plenty of bathroom stalls over there.” She pointed to the right. “And lockers and benches on this side.” She pointed to the left and then headed that direction.

  “Thank you. I really appreciate your help,” Erica responded as Sasha opened a locker and made sure no one was using it.

  Sasha lowered to sitting on the long bench in front of the locker. “Did you move here for work?”

  Erica dropped her bag on the bench. “Yeah. It’s not permanent. Long-term assignment.”

  “Ah, well, you’ll love the weather here. Unless winter is your favorite season,” she teased.

  Erica chuckled. “No, snow is not my favorite. I’m looking forward to the nice weather.” She held her arms out, pushing up her sleeves to show Sasha more of her skin. “Though, sun and I are not close friends, so I won’t be bathing on the beach.” Nor was lying in the sun one of Erica’s dreamy pastimes.

  Sasha pushed to standing. “Oh, sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I’ll let you get changed in private. I’ll come back and get you in a few minutes.” Her cheeks were pink. “I forget that not everyone wants strangers watching them change.”

  Erica reached out and set a hand on Sasha’s forearm. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” She glanced at Sasha’s pink flowy dress. “I love this dress by the way. It’s so feminine.”

  Sasha smoothed her hands down the front. “Shit,” she murmured. “That reminds me. Lincoln had a pretty specific request.” Her hand flew to her mouth and she glanced at Erica. “Do me a favor and don’t tell Lincoln you heard me cuss.”

  “Your secret’s safe.” Erica smiled. She liked Sasha. She imagined everyone did. While Sasha headed to another locker, wiggled out of her panties, and put them inside, Erica removed her work clothes, everything actually, and put on her favorite go-to little black dress—the one she often wore on her first visit to a new club. It was made of a stretchy material that shined just enough to give it the look of leather. It landed barely below her butt, was held up by thin black straps, pushed her fuller-than-average breasts up high, and had no back. The lacey edging around the V at the chest gave her amazing cleavage.

  As soon as Erica finished tugging it over her head and into place, she caught Sasha staring at her from the side, mouth open. “Shit, woman. That is so hot.” Her hand went to her mouth again. “If Lincoln catches me cussing, I won’t be able to sit for a week.”

  Erica grinned. “Who’s going to tell him?” She could feel the heat in her cheeks and knew her embarrassment over Sasha’s compliment left her face as red as Sasha’s.

  Sasha eyed her from head to toe. “With your dark hair and pale skin, you look like you could rule the world. Are you a top or a bottom?”

  Shaking her head, Erica responded, “Submissive. Always.”

  “Damn. I could picture you with high heels, a crop, and a wicked expression, circling some poor submissive trembling on their knees.”

  Erica lifted a brow. “You sure cuss a lot for someone who seems to find herself in trouble when doing so,” she j
oked.

  Sasha shook her head. “Not usually. I’m a preschool teacher. They frown on that at work.” She giggled. “And it really bothers Lincoln. I don’t do it in front of him often. I prefer sensual play over spankings and time outs.”

  “I get that.” Erica folded her clothes and tucked them into her bag, putting the entire thing in the locker.

  “Oh”—Sasha glanced at Erica’s feet—“well, if you’re going to go barefoot, that changes the look of the outfit. You’re right. Who is Lincoln arranging for you to scene with?”

  “Someone named Dayton.”

  Sasha smiled. “Perfect. He’s a great guy. Tall. Broad. Amazing tanned skin that makes me drool when he takes his shirt off—in my head, of course. If you like a little pain, he’s your man.”

  “I do. Looking forward to it. Helps me relax at the end of a stressful work week.”

  “He’s going to love your hair, too. If you like a man to run his fingers through your hair, I’d take it down. He’ll put it back up, but you won’t regret his attention.”

  “Thanks for the advice.” Erica slid the band from her hair and put it around her wrist. She shook out the length, letting it fall down her back while she finger combed it.

  “Wow. It’s even better down. So thick and shiny. Just the right amount of wave.” Sasha tugged on one of her own curls. “I’ll never know what straight hair is like.” She shrugged. “Ready?”

  “Yep. Thank you for showing me around. I really appreciate it. I’m normally a ball of nerves when I meet new people and enter new situations. You’re making my life so much easier tonight.” That wasn’t an exaggeration. Erica realized she hadn’t had a moment to fidget since she met Sasha. Pleasant conversation filled the void. For the last fifteen minutes, Erica had felt like any other woman in the presence of the easygoing Sasha, who didn’t know a thing about Erica’s day job or her ridiculously overactive brain.

 

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