by Johnson, Cat
She breathed. That she could do. At least in part.
3
Mitch whistled as he wiped down the bar on Sunday morning. His lunch with Amalia on Thursday had gone exceedingly well, and he’d found reasons to call her over the course of the weekend. He didn’t realize how much he missed her until now. Or that he’d even missed her at all. When she’d slipped out four years ago, he’d chalked it up to a fun time with a beautiful woman. One of many such encounters he’d had.
Now he was hoping for a second chance. The film crew would be here to set up any minute now, and he knew Amalia would be joining them. He felt like a damn teenager about to go on his first date as he stood in front of the mirror that morning grooming his beard and hair.
At nine, the film crew arrived, and Amalia was with them. She looked a bit happier than she had on Thursday. Something had been wrong with her that she didn’t want to talk about at lunch, so he didn’t push. Instead, he found reasons to call her and make her laugh. And he’d done his best to keep the flirting to a minimum, so she would see that he wasn’t just a walking hormone who wanted to fuck her.
“Good morning, Mr. Hartley. This is Thomas, head of our film crew. He’ll let you know what he needs to set up the cameras. I’ll need your staff members set up in various places so we can film some interviews for the show. Rick will be here this evening for his initial assessment, and we’ll progress from there.”
“Sounds good, Amalia. And call me Mitch.” He winked at her just to watch her blush.
She gave him a little nod and flashed him a half smile. “Just trying to be professional.”
“I can think of a lot of things I wouldn’t mind hearing you call me, sweetheart. Mr. Hartley isn’t one of them.”
Her blush deepened, but she cleared her throat and stood a little straighter, ignoring his comment. “I think we’ll do your interview in your office as long as it’s not too much of a mess.”
He frowned. “Why would you think my office is a mess?”
She laughed. “You would not believe the disgusting offices I’ve seen on this show.”
Mitch motioned for her to follow him. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
In his office. She looked around and nodded. “Impressive. Do you put in a lot of hours here?”
Mitch shrugged. “We only bought the bar six months ago. Normally, I’ll spend a lot of time in a place at the beginning to assess what it needs to succeed, but once we get good management in place, Hunter and I will try to stay out of their way. This place is a little different because it’s close to home, so I spend some time here through the week. My weekends are spent elsewhere, though.”
She stepped into the hallway and motioned a camera man in to set up some equipment.
“I think we’ll have you sit behind your desk for this. Maybe put a ledger or something on your desk in front of you.”
He snorted. “I know I look like a rugged dude who knows nothing about computers, but I’m still a millennial. All my ledgers are digital.”
She huffed and muttered, “Elder millennial.” Turning, she looked at a bookshelf and motioned to it. “A binder then.”
“Not that…” he trailed off as she tugged a binder from the shelf and stared at the cover.
“Why do you have this?” she whispered.
The binder held back issues of a mixology magazine. A cover for one issue was in the slipcover. It was the issue Amalia was featured on the front of.
He shifted uncomfortably. “I might have followed your career since we met. You’re very impressive.”
She blew out a breath and turned to the camera man.
“I’ve got it from here, Carl. Thank you.”
The man nodded and slipped out. When they were alone, Amalia pressed a button on the camera and turned to face him.
“I’m not sure what to say about this. It’s flattering and weird at the same time. I want to ask so many questions, but if I do, I’m going to wind up in your bed again and right now, that could ruin my career.”
He frowned. “How? We’re both consenting adults.”
She sighed. “Clause in my contract says I can’t associate with anyone who works for the bars we make over.”
He nodded. “OK. I get that. So, who says anyone has to find out? We want each other. That much is obvious. Again, we’re grown adults. I think we can keep something like this a secret.”
She shook her head. “I just don’t know.”
“One night then,” he suggested, desperate to keep her talking.
She laughed. “So, you basically want a repeat of four years ago?”
He shrugged. “If that’s all I can get, I’ll take it. Of course, I want more time with you.”
She sighed and motioned for him to sit. “We should get this over with. Let’s get through the pressure test and then we can talk.”
It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no either, and Mitch could live with that. It meant there was still a chance.
4
Amalia watched from the corner as three bartenders scrambled to keep up with the rush of people they had flooded the bar with that night. Rick Talbert was prepping to go get in someone’s face for the camera. She never thought yelling at people Gordon Ramsey style would accomplish anything, but it was one reason the show was so popular.
And this crew wasn’t doing that bad. This wasn’t a bar that needed to be salvaged. It was solid under new ownership and in the six months Mitch and Hunter had owned it, they’d turned it around. Being on the show was more of a publicity stunt, but they weren’t the first bar to accept a spot on the show when they didn’t need it. Reality television was often the exact opposite of reality.
Mitch sidled up to her as he mopped his forehead with a bar towel. “I was honestly expecting we would crush this. You’re really kicking our asses tonight.”
Amalia laughed. “You’re not doing bad. We packed this bar and they’re doing OK for not being top level bartenders like you.”
“A compliment, I like it,” he said.
She swallowed. They were supposed to have drinks after the film crew finished, and she wasn’t sure she was ready.
“You excited to see the remodel?” she asked, trying to keep the conversation light as they watched the chaos in the bar.
He shrugged. “Hunter and I talked about revamping the place when we first bought it, but that was going to be a project for a year into it after we saw what kind of profit the place could turn. I’m fascinated with the idea that it really does only take four days. I thought for sure that was all television editing.”
Amalia laughed. “There’ve been a couple of times we thought we wouldn’t finish in time, but it always gets done. This is a great space, so we won’t have to do a ton of reconstruction, but it’s still impressive. I think the remodel crew are the real stars of this show.”
Rick screamed for Mitch to get his ass behind the bar and Mitch leaned in close to Amalia and whispered, “You’re lucky I’m trying to seduce you, Amalia, or I would have punched him two days ago.”
Amalia nearly giggled at the thought of him punching Rick, but the heat in his voice when he said he was trying to seduce her sent little tendrils of excitement through her system as she watched him jog to where cameras were ready to watch Rick try to emasculate Mitch on camera.
Two hours later, the film crew was cleared out and the bar staff had gone home. The remodel team would be moving in to start work as soon as Amalia gave the all clear.
“You ready for that drink?” Mitch asked as she wrapped up a conversation with a show intern.
She jumped at the sound of his voice but turned to smile up at him.
“Yeah. Where are we going?”
He grinned. “Bar at the hotel work for you?”
“OK. I guess we can do that. But if Rick or any of my co-workers come in, you have to leave.”
“You seem uncomfortable around Rick. Is it just because he’s an asshole in general or an asshole to you?”
Leave
it to him to notice something she wasn’t ready to talk about yet. Thankfully, he didn’t demand an answer when she shrugged.
A half hour later, they were pulling into the hotel parking lot. Mitch drove them in his truck. The drive had been mostly silent, but the sexual tension in the truck was thick enough to cut with a knife.
In the bar, Amalia glanced around but relaxed when she didn’t spot anyone on her team.
Most of them wouldn’t hit the bar until Friday after the remodel and final filming were done. Mitch waved at someone behind the bar who pointed at a small booth in the back corner of the bar. It was positioned such that most people wouldn’t be able to tell who was sitting in it.
“I’ll have a Negroni please,” Amalia said to the bartender who came to take their order.
Mitch wrinkled his nose. “Still drink those things, huh?”
Mitch was the only bartender she knew who hated gin. She laughed. “It’s a nice drink, and it’s a classic.”
“Just bring me whiskey neat, please.”
The bartender nodded and backed away, promising to return quickly.
“You seem tense,” he said when they were alone.
She tried to relax her features, but he wasn’t wrong, she was tense.
“I am. Sorry. It’s not you. Not really. I’m just not sure where you expect this conversation to go. I’ve enjoyed hanging out with you this week even though we’ve been working. I just don’t know if I can give you anything else.”
He reached across the small table and picked up her hand. “I’m curious about what you think I want.”
“Kink, sex, my submission?” She gave him a one-shouldered shrug.
He laughed. “You’ve got me pegged pretty well. But why are those things off the table?”
“I’m not in the lifestyle anymore. You asked about my tattoo. Yes, after our night together, I went searching for more and I found it. But then it went sideways, and I got sucked into something I had no business being part of. So, I pulled away a few months ago and I haven’t been back.”
He leaned back and studied her. “But you miss it,” he said. It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact.
She tried not to squirm under his gaze. “God do I ever.”
“Will you tell me what happened?”
She shook her head. “Let’s just say the Dom I was with wasn’t who I thought he was and leave it at that. I put my heart into something I shouldn’t have. It wrecked me and I’ve been on the rocks since.”
“So let me pull you out. Let me be the one to show you we’re not all like that. You had one night with me and it sent you running to find the lifestyle. How long did it take him to drive you away?”
She swallowed, wishing the bartender would hurry and bring their drinks.
“I’m worried I’ll freak out on you and not be what you’re looking for. I was young and impressionable back then. I had no clue what I was doing, so I just went with the flow. Now I know what I like. What if we’re not a match for each other?”
He picked up her hand again. “Oh but, Amalia, what if we are? Take me up to your room. Let me show you that I can be good for you. That we can be good for each other.”
She swallowed. Was she really going to do this? Memories of their first night flooded her, and she knew the answer was yes.
Just then, the bartender appeared, and she gave Mitch an almost imperceptible nod as she slipped her hotel key from her pocket.
Mitch stood. “We’re going to take these to her room, Paul.”
5
Mitch watched as Amalia slid her hotel key into the lock. Her fingers trembled, and he wanted to calm her nerves. Last time they’d been together, he’d been demanding. Tonight, he would show her the other side of dominance. If she let him, he would still ask a lot of her and they would both enjoy it.
She pushed the door open and motioned him in. The door clicked shut, and he heard her take a deep shuddering breath. He set his drink on an end table and turned to face her as he unbuttoned his shirt cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. Her eyes never left him as he did both sleeves, and he knew she was wondering just what he had planned.
The truth was, he didn’t have much of one. He was just going to go with the flow tonight and see what happened. Despite her agreement to have drinks, he hadn't been sure the night would get this far.
Now that it had, he was determined to make it a night she couldn’t just walk away from.
“Come here,” he ordered softly.
When she complied, he took her drink from her and set it next to his.
“Let’s get some basics out of the way. You don’t have to call me Sir. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, and you can say red or another safeword of your choosing if you want everything to stop.”
Her voice trembled, but she said, “OK. Red works.”
“Good. Now I’d like to kiss you.”
He didn’t wait for her to respond, just lowered his mouth to hers. She was tense at first, but she soon loosened up and gave in to his kiss. Her arms snaked around his neck and he felt her relax.
“You said I don’t have to call you Sir, but can I?” she asked when he pulled away.
He flashed her a wicked grin. “You can, sweet girl. I warn you it might bring out my more intense dominant side, though, so it’s up to you.”
She ducked her head. “I think I might like that.”
His eyes narrowed as his cock grew harder. “I came up here with you intent on showing you the softer side of me unlike last time. Do I need to revise that plan?”
When she didn’t answer, he slid a finger under her chin and forced her head upward. “Answer me please, Amalia.”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.
He let out a low chuckle and fisted a hand in her hair, tugging her head back so her neck was exposed.
“You should kneel for me then.”
He watched in awe as she immediately dropped to her knees with practiced grace. Amalia from four years ago had trembled when she knelt for him the first time.
“Before I put my cock in your mouth, is there anything I need to know? Any new limits you’ve discovered, anything that’s going to trigger a painful memory?” There was something she was hiding from him still and he was determined to figure out what it was, but that might have to wait. Tonight, he was just going to enjoy her.
“Just don’t call me names.”
He dropped to one knee, so he was crouched next to her and ran a hand through her hair. “What do you mean? No pet names? No dirty names?”
“Things like bitch, slut, whore. I don’t like it and it puts my head in a bad spot.”
He was going to kick her ex-Dom’s ass. Sure, there were some subs who got off on the humiliation of name calling, but not all of them and certainly not Amalia. She didn’t have to tell him that the man who drove her from the lifestyle had called her a lot of names. He could hear it in her voice.
“You don’t have to worry about that from me. It’s not my kind of play. I like dirty girls, but I want to treasure them, worship them, not demean them.”
She visibly relaxed as he spoke, so he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He changed his mind about the blow job and lifted her to her feet as he stood. “I want to undress you, sweet girl. Can you let me do that?”
She nodded. “Yes, Sir. Please.”
He gave her a tender kiss as he reached for the hem of her blouse and lifted it over her head. Then he reached behind her and unhooked the black and gray bra she wore.
“God, you’re even more spectacular than I remember, and your ink… it’s incredible.”
She gave him a shy smile as he cupped each breast in his hands and kneaded gently.
“Thank you. I kept the list you gave me, and I’ve managed to get a piece by nearly everyone on the list.”
“So, you didn’t just slip out and forget about me,” he murmured more to himself than her.
She gasped. “Not even close. My life changed that night and
hasn’t been the same since.”
Mitch needed her in that moment. He silenced the conversation by sucking one of her nipples into his mouth.
She groaned and let her head fall back, exposing her long sexy neck. When he released her nipple, he sank his teeth into the tender flesh where her shoulder met her neck and reveled in the squeal she let out. The squeal morphed into a pleasurable moan and he made quick work of the rest of her clothes and gave her a gentle nudge toward the bed where she laid down.
When he’d ditched his own clothes, he leaned over her, pressing his palms into the mattress on either side of her head.
“You’re fucking gorgeous in my bed,” he murmured.
She smirked. “Technically it’s my bed.”
He quirked one eyebrow up. “A sub with some sass. I approve.”
She giggled. “Do you? Most Doms discourage sass.”
He flashed her a wicked grin. “Are you kidding? Sassy subs are subs I get to take over my knee. And if I remember right, you have a most spankable ass. I will enjoy it. For now, I’m going to fuck you senseless like I’ve wanted to do since you first knocked on my door last week.”
Her little nod of enthusiasm was adorable, and he couldn’t wait any longer to touch her. Grabbing her by the hips, he lifted her higher on the mattress and let his gaze rake her body. Tattoos peppered her brown skin in places he didn’t remember them being four years ago. The woman had spent some serious money on ink. He let his fingers follow the path his gaze took and caressed her skin.
When he reached her pubic bone, he paused, hovering his hand just above her smooth pussy. She squirmed on the mattress and he chuckled. “Be still, baby. Feel my hands on you.”
“But they aren’t on me,” she pouted.
He shook his head and tsked. “They will be soon. Be good and be still.”
She nodded and stilled her writhing hips. He rewarded her by cupping her pussy. Gently, he slid a finger through her seam.
“Damn, Amalia. You’re soaked. Is that all for me?” Her face blushed a pretty rosy color, and he grinned. “Good girl. I enjoy making you wet and now I’m going to make you come for me.”
