by Measha Stone
Powering down his laptop, he shoved Stephen from his mind for the moment. He could ask her about him on the way home.
He found Alyssa in the breakroom looking at the posting for Kerri's position again. She nibbled the inside of her cheek while wrapping her hair into a neat bun at the base of her neck. He wanted to kiss that neck. The creamy skin begged to be bitten and sucked.
"You think you'll apply?" he asked, winding his arms around her from behind.
"I don't know. I've never done that sort of thing." She sighed.
"What sort of thing? You do most of it now, from what Kerry said. She told Bradley you've been helping with the bookings, have helped a few nights with closing out the drawers, and the only thing she really hasn't shown you is the staff scheduling." He pulled her closer, letting his lips brush her neck.
"I've only been here a few weeks." She pried his hands open and slid out from his grasp. "It's not my thing." She shrugged and grabbed her purse.
"What's not your thing?" he questioned, knowing already he wasn't going to like her answer.
"Nothing. Forget it." She pressed her hands flat to his chest and tiptoed to his mouth, kissing him playfully. "I thought you had plans for us when we got home tonight," she whispered.
"I do." He grinned down at her, placing a chaste kiss on the tip of her nose. "But you have to be a good girl first."
"I have been," she objected with a playful pout. He wanted to laugh at the forced innocence in her expression.
"Yes. But when I ask you a question, I expect an actual answer." He took a step back from her. "We can talk in the car. After you."
She gave him an indecisive glance but made her way out of the breakroom and they headed to the garage.
Once in the car and belt clicked in place, he gave her firm look. "Now, what's not your thing?"
Her shoulders slumped. "Not going to let it go, are you?" she asked with a half-smile.
"Nope. I can be quite persistent when the situation calls for it. I'll turn the car on once you've answered."
She thought for a moment, then sighed again. "I'm more of a worker, not a leader. You know, submissive versus Dominant."
"Kerri's a submissive. To a very strict Dominant, from what I've seen. What does that have to do with your job?"
"Well…nothing." She tapped her fingers on her knee. "It's just…some people are cut out for management and some aren't. I'm not."
"Why not?"
"Alex, can we please talk about something else? I just don't want to apply for the job. Okay?" Her eyes were tired when they lined up with his.
"Okay. For now. We can talk about it tomorrow on the way to Dad's. He's demanded we come for dinner." He pulled out of the lot and onto the half empty street.
"I'm at the diner until four. After that?"
He took a deep breath. "Sure."
"So, that was Stephen tonight?" He turned the corner, heading toward his apartment.
"Yep," was all she said. He was really beginning to think she'd end up with a red ass before they managed to get to his apartment.
"Your ex Stephen?"
Her fingers drummed faster on her knee. "Yep."
"Alyssa." His tone held a warning, and he really hoped she understood it, because he didn’t want to ruin their night with an argument—or worse, a punishment.
"Alex." She mocked his tone and laughed when his gaze shot to her. "I was kidding!" She laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry." She controlled her laughter enough to answer him properly. "I'm sorry. Yes, that was my ex. I'm not sure what he's doing here. He hates Chicago. Thank you for getting him out of the club. I could have gotten him to go eventually, but it was much faster your way."
"He didn't seem to be handling his drinks very well," Alex remarked.
"Yeah. He's not good at holding his liquor. It was one of the reasons we broke up. I got tired of being his designated driver. Even when I wasn't with him, I was expected to go get him when needed."
"Is he a bad drunk?"
Alyssa stiffened at the question. "He's a drunk. Says things he doesn't mean. Does things he wouldn't normally do. The usual."
He didn't like how casual her statement sounded. "What time do you start in the morning?" he asked, reminding himself again he did not want to start an argument.
"Six," she said after a large, unladylike yawn. He frowned at the time on the clock.
"Six?" He didn’t mean to raise his voice, but this woman was beginning to make him lose his resolve to not put his foot down too firmly too quickly.
"I have to get up at six," she clarified, ignoring his tone completely. "My shift starts at seven," she explained as he pulled his car into the garage.
"You realize it's almost two in the morning." He controlled his volume, but his resolve hadn’t softened. "You'll get about four hours of sleep. If you fall asleep as soon as your ass hits the bed." So much for any playtime; he was too irritated.
"Alex, we talked—"
"We’re going to talk again," he told her as he parked the car. Her reasonable tone only set his anger off more. Didn't she realize how exhausted she looked? The double shifts were taking their toll, and although he had agreed to leave it at that, he wasn't willing to allow her to continue at such a neck-breaking pace.
"I have Monday off. No club or diner," she said as he unbuckled.
"Let's go inside." He threw open his door and waited for her to get out of the car before he grabbed her hand and walked toward the elevators. Was he being a complete ass? He didn't want her endangering her health for piddly tips and minimum wage. If she would apply for the management position, she could quit the diner, her salary would double, and she'd make commission off the party sales.
"I don't understand what you're so upset about," she whispered on the way up to his apartment. "I have to work."
"You don't have to work two jobs. Not back to back like this. You’re exhausted. You've worked how many doubles this week?" He didn't trust himself to look at her. If she had given him the slightest pout, he might have lost his resolve. "How many, Alyssa?" he pressed. The number was going to anger him even more. "Alyssa." Last warning.
"Four," she finally said with a heavy sigh. "In a row," she added so quietly, he almost didn't hear her over the steam building in his ears. He tightened his hold on her hand, but said nothing. She hadn't been his then, he reminded himself. They had been barely talking. Nothing he said to himself calmed his irritation.
"And you've been walking to and from the club?" he asked in a low voice, which probably would have frightened her had she not known better.
"This is stupid," she said as the doors to the elevator opened. She yanked her hand free and stomped off into the apartment. He followed right on her heels as she continued to trudge her way to her room.
"What's stupid?" he questioned once in her room.
She threw her purse on the dresser and squared off with him. "I do not want you to micromanage me."
"I haven't done a damn thing." He put a hand up to stop her. "Yet." He took a steadying breath. How could one woman get him so off balance so easily? "I'm not looking to micromanage anything. But you’re exhausted. You can't keep this up. There's no need to keep this up. I don't like you working at the diner," he said flatly.
"I don't like not being able to pay the bills," she responded with heat.
"Alyssa."
"I need to get to sleep." She waved her hand at him. "As you said, only four hours if I get my ass in bed right away. So, if you'll excuse me—" She turned and disappeared into the bathroom, dismissing him entirely.
He stood in the middle of the empty room staring at the closed door of the bathroom. He wasn't wrong. He hadn't been overbearing. He wasn't even demanding she quit. He was looking for a conversation. She blew him off like his opinion didn't matter.
He remembered all the naughty things he’d wanted to do with her when they got home. All of the deliciously wonderful things that would leave them both in a sweaty, happy mess. A shake of his hea
d dismissed all of them. The bathroom door began to open just as he unbuckled his belt.
There would still be panting and moaning, but pleasure was no longer on the docket. His girl had sealed her fate with the slamming of the door.
Chapter 18
The man wasn't going to let up. She leaned back against the door to the bathroom, having just slammed it on him, and took a deep breath.
She'd never had to answer to anyone before, not about her wellbeing. Her mother was a needy mess, but she never cared where Alyssa was or what she was doing, so long as she paid the bills and kept the liquor cabinet stocked. In order to do that, Alyssa had had to hold several jobs at one time. It wasn't new to her, working two jobs.
She pushed away from the door and went to the sink to wash off the grime of the day. She winced at her reflection.
He was right. She looked exhausted. Hell, she was exhausted. The diner shift took a lot out of her, and the evening shift at the club had been twice as hard to get through. Once she saved enough money to find a good place to live, she'd cut back, but until then, she needed all the shifts she could get. Alex would just have to deal with that.
She couldn't take the management job. Of course it would be better money, but she didn't have the smarts. She could do some of the work Kerri had shown her over the past few weeks, but she wouldn't be able to handle it on her own. No. Waitressing was fine work for her.
After washing her face and pulling her clothes off, she looked at the tub. As much as she wanted to sink into a nice, hot bath, she had to get to bed. She had another long shift ahead of her, and as much as Alex would gripe about it, she had to be there.
He was coming from a place of caring. He wasn't trying to be an overbearing ass, but she was definitely seeing him that way. Stephen had always tried to dictate what she could and couldn't do, telling her it was his right as her Dominant. They didn't last long in that relationship. Aside from his drinking, she couldn't stand the constant demands and him micromanaging her life. It was never that he cared about where she was, but he felt the need to give her permission for everything.
Alex had tensed at the mention of her diner shift. He didn’t understand. Yeah, she was running herself ragged, but it was necessary. She’d make him understand. She'd wait until the morning. No sense bothering at the moment. He was probably half asleep by now anyway.
He wasn't asleep. He stood in the middle of the room, exactly where she had stomped away from him, holding his belt in his right hand. Her eyes darted to the loosely hanging leather at his side, then his expression. Dark. Extremely dark. His lips were pursed, his jaw set tight, and his eyes fixated on her with a sternness she hadn't believed him capable of until that moment.
"Uh-um," she stammered, standing just outside the bathroom staring at his hand casually tapping it against his leg. "Uh…" What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she get a full word out, and why wasn't he saying anything?
"I think I've been pretty patient. I haven't demanded anything. I haven't encroached on your plans, have I?" His voice held steady, no tremor or indecisiveness.
She swallowed. "Well…no, not really."
"I haven't told you what to do, what to wear, where to go, anything like that?" He took one step toward her. Her stomach twisted.
"Not really." Other than making her leave her apartment, which wasn't exactly the worst thing.
"Yet, when I try having a conversation about your health, your wellbeing, you feel it's respectful to blow me off and stomp away, slamming doors." His tone didn't waiver, but his volume lowered. She twisted the hem of her shirt in her fingers.
"Not when you say it that way." Maybe a little humor would lighten the mood. It didn't deter him. He took another step toward her. He’d removed his suit jacket. His button-down shirt had been rolled up at the sleeves. She wanted to bolt back into the bathroom, but her feet were being entirely too uncooperative. "Alex," she sighed. "I'm sorry. I told you. I'm not good at this." His raised eyebrow told her it might not have been the best tactic.
"Good at what? Being respectful?" The slapping of the belt against his leg intensified.
"The full-time submissive thing. I'm not good at it. I told you that." She really wished he wouldn't take another step. One more, and he'd be within touching distance. Since her feet still wouldn't obey her, she was sure he'd grab her.
"And I told you I’d help you with that," he reminded her with an eerie calm.
"Well…yes, I remember." Her answer came softly.
"Have you ever been spanked for punishment?" he asked, not moving toward her any more. He looked as though he didn't trust himself to move closer, and she got the distinct feeling once she was within reach, their talk would be over.
"A few times." Stephen had other means of punishment. Isolation mostly. He'd remove himself from her for a period of time. No calls, no texts, no emails. Nothing. And she wasn't allowed to contact him during that time either.
"They're different than play spankings," he told her. She wanted to roll her eyes in a well, duh sort of way, but she thought better of it. "You can use your safeword if you need to, but understand it will only pause the punishment, not end it."
“Alex, I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. I’m tired, like you said.” Maybe agreeing he had a point would get her closer to being under her covers and not beneath his belt.
He tilted his head, studying her for a long moment. “Then we should get right to it so you can get to sleep.” He sat on the edge of the bed and patted his knee. “Pajama bottoms off and lay over my knee, Allyssa.”
Her throat dried.
“If I have to keep telling you to come here, this is going to take a while.”
Her feet finally started working and headed right for him. The bastards. She glided over the carpeting until she stood to his side, her knees pressed against his legs.
“Bottoms down.” He plucked the elastic of her pajama pants and snapped them.
Her face burned as she shoved the cotton pants over her hips and kicked them away.
“No panties?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
She folded her hands in front of herself. “I thought I was going to bed.”
“Hmmm…you will be soon. No, don’t hide yourself from me. Move your hands,” he said, then brushed them away. “Now, over.”
She looked at his lap. It was a simple command. Lay down over his knees. But her body locked up again.
He gently grabbed her arm and helped get her moving, pulling her down into position. She shoved her face into the comforter.
His fingers trailed up her thighs to her ass, dipping lower until he found her wetness. She couldn’t help her body’s response. Even with the regret running through her, she found his dominance alluring.
"You're already wet," he accused softly. "That's really too bad. There won't be any satisfaction for you tonight."
One of his legs slipped out from beneath her and wrapped around hers, trapping her. The buckle of his belt jangled over her shoulder as she prepared for the first strike. His hand smacked down on her ass first, jolting her. A slow, steady pace quickly turned heated as he increased the speed and force of the spanks.
She wiggled slightly beneath his hand. “Alex. Okay, I’m sorry,” she said when the heat started to spread throughout her ass. A solid spanking could leave her relaxed, but the longer the spanks rained down, the farther from relaxed she got.
He paused. "I expect you to behave in a respectful manner. At all times, not just when you feel like it." The belt crashed down over her ass.
She stiffened, gripping the comforter with both hands as the fire blossomed. She bit her lip, hoping not to cry out, but when the belt slashed across her ass again, she bucked up with a yelp. He tightened his hold on her and continued. He said nothing else as he laid into her burning backside. The belt came down again and again and again. She tried to twist away from it, but his unrelenting grip wouldn’t give an inch. Kicking was useless since he had her legs trapped beneath his. The punishme
nt continued until her tears flowed freely.
"I'm sorry!" she cried out. "I'm sorry!" He threw the belt to the floor and began to pepper her ass with his hand. Hard swats of his palm met the burning flesh. After a dozen strokes, his hand stilled. She laid her head against the mattress and let herself cry. Her ass burned, but it wasn’t the pain that drew out her sobs- but relief.
A huge burden had been removed from her shoulders. She felt lighter and freer. He didn't try to move her. Instead, he rubbed her back. She couldn't remember the last time she’d sobbed so openly.
Once she reigned in her tears, he helped her stand, then stood with her. He pulled her into an embrace and kissed her cheek, then her neck.
"That hurt," she whispered when he remained silent. He chuckled and kissed her neck again.
"It was supposed to." His lips brushed her earlobe. "Never stomp away from me again." He held her chin in his fingers, looking her square on. No laughter in his eyes, no levity. Complete sincerity. "Or more of the same will happen," he promised.
"Got it," she whispered.
"We can talk more about your job tomorrow, but I’d like you to think about stopping your shifts at the diner. We’ll figure something else out for you if you don’t want to try for the management spot, but you can’t keep working like this, Alyssa." He trailed his fingers along her jaw.
She was worn out. And tomorrow wouldn’t be any different after only a few hours of sleep.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Good.” He linked his hand in hers and pulled her behind him as he headed to his bedroom.
"Alex—" she started to protest, but immediately clamped her mouth closed when he squeezed her hand slightly.
The silk sheets had a cooling effect on her extremely warm bottom, and she couldn't help but smile when he slid into bed with her.
"No, no." He shook his head when she gazed at him with what she could only assume was lust in her eyes. "One, you have to be up in three hours, and two, you don't get sex after being punished." He pulled her into his arms and kissed her—a deep, passionate kiss that ignited a new fire in her. She wanted him. Badly.
