by Eden Rose
***
Two days later and I still have no idea what to do with the Lucian situation. Being that it’s Friday, I have to go to work again. Andrew is all excited about the amount of money that I’m making but I have only told him about the first part of the money that I make. Not the second part. I want to keep that secret.
Once I have saved up a little more and know what is going on with the job, I’m going to start looking at an apartment.
I only have a few outfits that I can wear to work, so I’m dressed in the same thing that I was wearing last week. What the fuck ever. I know it’s going to get covered with all sorts of foods so why should it even matter?
I walk again to the club and hope that Lucian is there. Wait. Do I even want to see her? What the hell will I do if I do see her? I’m not sure if I want to see her or not. Part of me wants to slap the shit out of her for telling me that she and I can’t have sex, and then the other part of me just wants to slap the shit out of her… for good measure.
By the time that I get there, the club is in full swing again and I can hear the music as it shakes the walls. I look through the door that separates the lobby and the club and peer through. There are a bunch of bodies in a series of undress and some of them seem to get really into it.
“Mason. Welcome back. Ms. McGrace said for you to get settled in the same penthouse you were at last time,” Trina says.
I turn to look at her and take a look at what she’s wearing. She’s dressed in a tight skirt suit that shows me everything about her body and is short enough for me to see the tops of her thighs. Trina looks beautiful with her hair loose around her shoulders and the fleshy mounds of her breasts are visible under her hair.
“Yeah, hi. Uh, I guess I will go up there.” I turn from her when I feel her hand brush against my arm.
“Don’t go yet. Let’s talk for a moment.” Trina’s words are thick with her arousal and I want to tell her to get away from me.
I’m so fucking turned on from whatever is going on with Lucian and now I’m having to fight off Trina. That is not going to work.
I shrug away from her and then begin to walk to the stairs. The music from the club is loud and I can feel my heart beating to the beat of the music. The bass is loud, I can hear people screaming over it.
This place is so strange and uninviting. The stairs look similar to a dungeon or something. It’s dark and the only light that is in there is dim.
I feel as if I’m being played with by Trina and Lucian and I’m not liking this one fuckin’ bit. Is this a game to them or something? Trina is coming on to me hard core and Lucian is acting as if she’s some dominant or something. What kind of business is this?
***
I have been cooking for about an hour when I feel hands and arms circle my waist. I’m disgusted with myself over the fact that I’m hoping it’s Lucian.
“You look so sexy cooking,” a silky voice says near my ear. The voice sounds like one of those sex operator’s voices where you feel as if you can bust a nut right away.
I look over my shoulder and away from my pasta that I’m making to see the top of Trina’s head. Her blonde hair is slightly darker on the top and I watch as looks up at me over her hair that has fallen in her face. “Hey, Trina,” I say and squeeze her hands before pushing them away.
Granted, I’m used to picking up girls here and there, but I would never say they come on as strong as Trina is. Since I don’t know what kind of game that she and Lucian are playing, I am not getting in the middle of it.
She pouts her full lips and then places an envelope down. “I came to pay you. You get everything up front today. Plus, a bonus.”
Curiosity is playing the better of me and I know I shouldn’t ask too many questions, but they fly out of my mouth anyways. “I’m confused. Why are you guys paying me so much for a few hours?” I thumb through the envelope and there is four thousand dollars in one hundred-dollar bills once again. Holy shit. “I can’t accept all of this, Trina. Can you call Lucian? This is too much money.”
Everything about what Andrew said regarding the money rings in my ear. If this money does have blood on it and I take it, what does that make me? Am I just as bad as Lucian and her friends if I accept it? I didn’t kill anyone… I’m just making their money for cooking and driving people to their house? It doesn’t make sense to me at all.
I know I should just shut the fuck up and accept it, but this is too much. Four thousand dollars for a few hours? I could imagine four hundred dollars, but this is a whole extra zero attached. Is Lucian trying to buy me to do whatever she wants?
Suddenly, I feel the urge to leave. This is getting ridiculous and I’m not in the mood for whatever this is. However, when I go to pack up my stuff, I begin to think about all that extra money. I would be able to get my own place so I wouldn’t have to live with Andrew anymore. That would be fucking great. Living with my brother is a nightmare.
“We pay you so well for discretion. You keep your mouth shut, Lucian makes more money. Plus, our attendance has gone up ten new clients because so many people raved about your food. Now, can we talk about something more important?”
Before I could open my mouth, Trina yanks at the zipper holding her dress together in the front. “Touch me,” she whispers seductively.
I didn’t even reach my hand out when I hear someone clearing their throat and then I hear, “Well, what am I interrupting?”
I turn on my heels and see Lucian standing on the other side of the counter with a satisfied smile on her face. She looks like a siren with her long hair loose around her face and her lips are painted red. They are slightly puckered, I about fall to my knees as I look at her.
She makes me want to fall to my knees and pray to God for some sort of strength.
Everything about this woman, screams power. She makes me want to give her everything.
Chapter 21
Lucian
I’m resting on my sailboat that I have docked at The Detroit Yacht Club. Yeah, it’s in Detroit but the place is fucking gorgeous. It’s almost as if it’s a whole different city once you pass through the gates to get in.
I have been a member now for five years and that was difficult in itself to get. In order to get a membership with them, you have to know someone who knows someone big. How did I get my membership?
Ah! Like I would tell you fuckers!
Now this is a secret that I am keeping to myself forever, taking it straight to the grave with me.
My sailboat is a Mirabella that I was given as present from some important people. Well, actually, this was taken and I’m never giving it back. This is my boat, and no one is going to take it from me.
I’m lying on the bow of the boat and soaking up the last remaining month of the season. Michigan is known for its undependable weather and this year has definitely been that. Summer didn’t really come until about June and now that we are in August, it’s cooling down and then getting hotter. It’s very bipolar.
What the hell am I going to do about Mason?
That is the real reason why I am relaxing on my boat. I’m trying to figure out what the hell to do with him. There is no denying that I am attracted to him, but the problem is… I don’t know if I can be what he needs. On top of that, I don’t know if he can be what I need. I have very particular needs and wants, and I don’t want to waste any of our time.
I pick up the champagne bottle that is resting in the ice bucket next to me and top off my flute. I’m no closer to finding out what to do with Mason than I was when I woke up this morning. It’s been a few days since I last saw him, and he has consumed my thoughts.
***
The man with the 13 tattooed on his face is looking at me as if I’m a prize that he wants to win. Like a fat woman eyeing a Snickers bar. Without having any idea what is about to happen, I’m scared. I’m so scared and there’s nothing I can do about it.
Hell, I know that both of my parents are dead or very close to being dead and my broth
er is being an idiot by letting this man in here.
“Ghost, maybe we could work something out with this girl,” thirteen man says as he circles me.
I cry harder as I plead with Paul with my eyes. I dare not to speak because I know that if I do, I won’t make any sense.
“Come on, Miguel. Leave her alone. She’s too young.”
Miguel looks me over and then fingers the strap of my tank top. “She is, isn’t she? How old are you, my pet? Have you bled yet?”
I nod my head and fight the urge to push him off of me. I have heard several guys at school talking about if a girl bleeds that means she’s ready to breed. When I asked Paul what that meant, he told me to stay away from them. Something about them being jerks and not knowing how to treat women.
“I might have to keep her to myself.”
Paul shoves me away from Miguel and my back hits the window. “Get out! Don’t come back!”
With a wince, I go to grab my shoes but Paul yells at me. “No shoes! Get the fuck out! Right now.”
I jump out the window and land in a pricket bush. I scream out in pain as the needles pierce my skin. Despite the pain, I run. I run for what feels like hours and my chest is about to cave in from lack of oxygen that is filtering through. I can feel the bottom of my feet getting ripped up from the salted Detroit roads.
It’s so cold out here and the wind is biting my skin. My clothes are useless against the Michigan winter and they don’t provide any protection. I can feel the moisture on my face harden to ice and my cheeks feel as if they are going to break at any minute.
Those that dare drive on the roads, whip past me and don’t bother stopping to help the teenage girl who is running in barely any clothing. Part of me doesn’t know if I want someone to stop. They could be sickos that stop and want to sell me to slavery or something.
I’m an orphan girl now and I’m homeless for the foreseeable future- and I’m scared beyond belief. I sincerely don’t think that Paul is going to come looking for me and I doubt that anyone will even wonder where I am. I’m a Cuban American from the wrong side of the tracks. To the schools, I will probably be another statistic. Another young girl not graduating from the Detroit school system. I will be another homeless woman without anywhere to go.
***
Every once in a while, I feel a little melancholy and think about how I began. My crimes started out petty. Just a few crimes to get food or warmer clothing to fight against the winter chill.
Now, I’m on a multimillion-dollar sailboat and am getting a pedicure by someone who doesn’t speak English.
There are very few times that I will run into someone that I stole from during the years that I lived on the street. I didn’t do it by myself though. I had help knocking off stores and gas stations to gain food and water. It’s amazing how much you think about water when you don’t have any. I remember my parents fighting me to drink some damn water and I told them no.
“Miss McGrace. Trina is on the phone for you,” Greta says and hands me the satellite phone. Being that we are in the middle of Belle Isle, it’s difficult to get actual cell service. The sat phone is used for extreme emergencies and she better have one.
My time on the boat is meant to be peaceful and not disturbed at all. “What?” I say into the phone before I even bring it to my ear. I had told her that I would be unreachable today and I meant it.
I need to think about the Mason situation. I consider him a situation because I know that he would be a perfect sub, but I have a feeling that he will take some convincing. Like some major fucking convincing. I have a feeling that he’s looking for something bigger than what I could offer him but I’m going to try for him to see reason.
“Mason just showed up. Do you want me to do what you asked?” She asks me and I want to strangle her.
I take a deep breath to try and calm my nerves, so I don’t flip out on her but it’s hard. “If I didn’t want you to fucking do it, I wouldn’t have asked you to do it. Right?”
The nerve of people to interrupt my time on my boat to ask me a question like that.
I steer my body so I’m laying directly in the sun and I adjust my glasses slightly. Since I’m Cuban, I get tanned very easily and my skin soaks it up for a long time. Which is great since Michigan is so undependable with their weather and I hate the tanner. I always feel as if I’m being suffocated by it and it drives me insane.
She huffs slightly and I pull the phone away from my ear and then adjust it slightly. Since my body is overheated from the sun, I can feel sweat forming around my phone.
“Did you want me to still pay him out of the money you gave me to give to him?”
Does she seriously not listen to anything that I fucking say? I gave her explicit instructions as to how to handle this. In order to not lose my cool, I hang up the phone immediately and then toss it to the side.
With a shrug, I adjust my body to sit further into the sun and take a deep breath. My intentions were to spend the time on my boat to reflect what I’m going to do with Mason. He’s too wishy washy. One minute I feel as if he is good to go and then the next it’s like he’s done with me.
I pick up my own phone and start thumbing through the pictures that are on it. I keep a few pictures of the 'before Lucian’ and when I look at them, I remember that I worked hard to be here, I don’t need to answer to anyone. On the last picture of my phone, I hover over it and wince.
The memories come flooding back in and I don’t like it. I hate remembering that part of my life and then I remember why I became this person. I became Lucian McGrace because I’m a motherfucking G and I got this. I left Lucian Gomez behind and she’s never coming back.
I reach over for the sat phone and hit the main button to reach the crew. “Yes, Ms. McGrace?” Harry says into the phone as the form of greeting.
“Turn us around. I have a party to get to.”
Being on the boat is making me remember things that I don’t want to remember and it’s time to get shit back in order.
We arrive at my port in about an hour since I like to take the scenic route back. After we are docked, I gather all of my things and slip into my swim suit cover and shove my feet into my sandals.
***
I’m clad in my leather bustier and a short tight mini skirt that leaves nothing to the imagination by the time I leave my penthouse to get into my car. I’m feeling pretty confident that I’m looking good and I can’t wait to see if Mason shows up tonight.
God damn it. Maybe I should just dump that shit and pick someone that is experienced in what I want. I don’t really have the time or the patience to take on someone new.
But there is something significant in the whole I get to corrupt him type of way. I can’t wait to see the dark side in him. It’s going to happen soon, whenever he realizes that he’s holding onto some serious energy that needs to be released.
Imagine my surprise, when I walk into the playhouse to see Trina doing exactly as I asked. Mason is standing in front of her with a look that screams arousal, but he seems uneasy about it. Trina’s a beautiful woman and it’s no wonder why Mason’s cock is straining against slacks. And my, my. What a big cock it is.
“Hello, friends. What are we doing here?” I question and walk straight over to them. I finger Trina’s hair and then wrap it around my finger to give it a little pull. She hisses at the force that I have provided but I already know that she likes it.
Mason backs up further and then bumps into the counter top. “Uh, hi. Um, I’m just going to continue cooking.”
I step forward after dropping Trina’s hair and put myself in front of him. “Remember when I told you that you could sleep with other women?” I asked him with assurance.
“Yes… You can’t expect me to- wait. What are you expecting me to do?” His words stumbled on top of each other, but I could tell that he was turned on with the possibilities of what was going to happen.
“Go on and tell him, Trina,” I whisper and start to undo his belt
. When I have the belt through the buckle, she begins to explain the game.
“I want you to fuck me while Lucian’s watching. I want you to do to me whatever you want, and I want it bad. Can you do that for me?”
Mason looks at me with doe eyes and I nod my head encouragingly. “I know you want to please me. But it will please me to watch you please her.”
I’m glad he understands who’s the one who’s giving him this pleasure. Even though he’s fucking Trina, he’s fucking me.
Mason’s gentle as he strips Trina out of her clothing. Each stitch of her clothing lands in a heap on the ground right next to them. Once my assistant is completely naked, he begins to take off his clothes too. He looks over at me before doing anything else to make sure it’s okay.
“Mason, get on your knees in front of me.”
Mason’s quick to follow my orders, dropping to his knees.
Without responding or saying anything, I walk away from them to get my riding crop. It’s crucial for this first step in making Mason realize I own him.
I have my riding crop in my hand as I circle Mason’s aroused body. “Your safe word is red. You want to stop, you say red and everything stops. You got me?” I question.
“I won’t be punished?” He murmurs.
If I couldn’t see his hard dick sticking straight out, I would have thought he was scared. He wants to give me the control over his body. He wants to give himself to me. He wants me to take him to the sub space where I am the madam and he’s mine to do with however I want.
The power of this recognition is equally arousing and something else. Something more that I have never felt before. I want him to want me, but more than that- do I want him? Do I need him to want me like I want him?
Raul was nothing more to me than distraction and practicing for my new role as a domanatrix. Raul was practice for this exact moment with Mason.
