Текст книги "ARROGANT PLAYBOY"
Автор книги: Winter Renshaw
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Текущая страница: 30 (всего у книги 43 страниц)
FOUR
BELLAMY
Questions swarm my mind, mixing together in a slurry of confusion and excitement.
What just happened in there?
And what did I just agree to?
And what kind of company has these types of jobs?
Is it legal?
On what planet is any of this normal?
And why do I not feel as if I’ve just been sexually assaulted?
At least I’ll be paid well. Twenty-thousand dollars a month well.
I tuck my shirt back into my skirt and smooth my hands along the buttons until I no longer look like I’d been hot and bothered two minutes ago.
I’m blushing. My cheeks fill with red that radiates straight down to my core. When Dane almost kissed me, I thought I was going to lose it. It’s a miracle I stayed as composed as I did because all I could think about was the way he would feel inside me.
The intoxicating bite of his expensive cologne still lingers in my lungs. I want to bathe in it and never forget the way it swept me away for a small portion of my young life. His cologne makes me feel fancy. Sophisticated.
Like there’s a whole other world out there waiting for me to explore.
A world like I’ve never known and in which I undeniably belong.
My mind is stuck on Dane like it’s on a loop, replaying the last hour over and over, the good intensely dominating the bad.
I walked in this morning thinking I’d be filing papers and typing memos all day. Never once did I ever imagine a scenario in which I’d be agreeing to sexually submit to some arrogant suit.
The hunger in his eyes and the way he subtly licked his lips as his gaze dripped down me slow like honey melted my concerns and strengthened my resolve. Sex with a very handsome man might not be the worst thing I could’ve stumbled into.
But I didn’t love the restraints.
At all.
Sigh.
“Laurie?” I knock on the door with the H.R. sign hanging next to it. “I’m Bellamy. Dane sent me here to sign some paperwork.”
She looks up over her red-framed glasses, her pearls pooling into a puddle on her desk.
“Yes. I’ve been expecting you. Come in. Have a seat.”
I took a human resources management class at college once. I don’t remember much about it besides the fact that H.R. is meant to protect the company from certain liabilities. Most people think the H.R. department is their personal liaison, someone to turn to when they’re having troubles with their superiors or an unfair policy.
Laurie’s job is to serve the best interest of the company, which is exactly why the first document resting atop the stack of paperwork is a non-disclosure agreement.
She knows.
How many have come before me?
“This is standard,” she says, sensing my reluctance. “Feel free to take it to your office and read it over. There’s a consent form in there that you and Mr. Townsend need to complete together. If you have any questions, I’m a phone call away. The insurance forms are pretty self-explanatory. Don’t forget to sign and date the background check authorization and complete the emergency contact form.”
I gather the stack of papers in my hand and nod toward the door. “Dane said my office is next to his. Would it be unlocked?”
“Everything’s ready for you. Your key is on your desk. I.T. has set up your computer. There’s a company directory in your top desk drawer.” Her words are short and curt, like she’s telling me, “You’re a smart cookie. You got yourself into this. You’ll figure it out” in not so many words.
I suppose she’s exactly right.
When I leave Laurie’s office, I bump into a group of women standing around the reception desk laughing and chatting idly with fancy, enameled mugs in their manicured hands. The conversation ceases as soon as I approach, but one of them offers me a kind smile.
“I’m Bellamy.” I stop and introduce myself. Humanizing myself always seemed to work with the mean girls at school. People tend to be kinder in their judgments when they realize you’re not much different than they are or at the very least, that you have a name.
Marlene introduces them as Caitlin, Harlow, and Brenna. I’m told they’re from accounting, but they look as if they sashayed straight off a Parisian runway. I’m guessing smiling Brenna is the halfway decent one of the bunch. The others keep their distance, not saying much of anything as they grip their mugs and bide their time before I carry on my merry way.
They’ve got to know.
I’m sure the second I leave, they’re going to discuss the new company courtesan.
It’s okay, I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to make money so I can move on with my life. This’ll all be a distant memory someday, mean girls and all.
I amble down the hallway, toward the mahogany double doors, which house my master’s office. I giggle at the word master. It’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard. I can’t possibly take it seriously.
But for twenty thousand dollars a month? I’ll at least pretend like I take it extremely seriously.
When I reach my office, I slip inside expecting something more along the lines of a janitorial closet. The buckling of my knees in response to the sweeping view of the city, the polished mahogany desk, and the crystal sconces on dimmers was the last thing I expected. Wallpaper covered walls in a shade of cream give off a luxurious sheen fit for a palace-dwelling queen, and a brand new laptop and cell phone rest in the center of it all.
My finger traces along the dust-free ledge of my desk before trailing up to the silver laptop. I crack the lid and take a seat at my desk. The screen prompts me to create a password, but before I do, I pick up the shiny, white cell phone sitting to my right.
I’ve never owned a cell phone in my life. They’re strictly prohibited in the Miller family.
Except, of course, for my father. He gets one for emergency purposes, he says, since he works outside of the home.
But no one else.
I’ll have to fight tooth and nail and explain that this is a work phone, and even then I’m looking at slim chances. But it’s worth a shot.
While I ransack my drawers in search of a pen, a quick rap at my door ushers in Dane. I lose my breath for a second until I force ice water through my veins and try to regroup.
“That was a quick conference call,” I say as he takes the seat across from me. He pulls two pens from the interior breast pocket of his suit and places one in front of me. It reminds me of a polished silver bullet. Upon examination, I see his monogram along the barrel.
His palm runs the length of his slim, black tie. “My brother isn’t one to be long winded.”
“What’s his name?”
Dane’s head tilts as if he’s bothered by this small talk. “Beckham. Beckham King. He runs the east coast division.”
Different last names. I want to ask why, but it’s none of my business.
“Have you had a chance to go over the paperwork?”
“I’m just getting settled. Was looking for a pen when you walked in.”
“Why don’t you start with the consent form? My time is limited, and I’d like to get that out of the way.”
I lick the pad of my middle finger and page through the stack of paperwork until I come across a consent form. It’s on personal stationery with the logo of a legal firm at the bottom along with an attorney’s signature.
“I have some questions first.” I peer across the desk at him. “If that’s okay.”
“And what are your questions?”
“It’s just, I didn’t know this type of job existed. I guess I’m more curious than anything else. Is this legal?”
He smirks. “You’re not a prostitute, Bellamy. If that’s your concern.”
“I guess I just don’t understand why you need someone here all day, every day for this? Not that I’m complaining. Like I said, I’m just curious. I’m not judging you.”
“I don’t expect you to understand.” He holds still, his gaze steady and unwavering. He’s certainly not apologizing for his preferences. “When the entire world is at your fingertips, you can be more frivolous with your whims. Some people might like a fancy coffee maker in their kitchen, knowing they can have their favorite coffee drink whenever the mood strikes them. They’re addicted to coffee. They need it every day. The machine is there for their convenience.”
“You’re comparing me to a coffee maker?”
“I’m just saying, we all have our vices. Mine just happens to be beautiful, submissive women. If I can afford to have one exclusively on stand-by for me, then I certainly won’t deny myself that luxury.”
“So I’m a luxury?”
“You are absolutely a luxury.”
“And what exactly will I be consenting to?” I bring the paper closer, inspecting it and reading from the top.
“Read, Bellamy.”
I, _______________, declare under penalty of perjury that I am above the age of eighteen.
I, ________________, declare that I am participating in this sexual relationship of my own free will and that I have not been coerced, threatened, manipulated, or harmed into doing so.
Both parties agree that this agreement is to be private and not disclosed to third parties for any reason. Doing so shall result in legal punishment including sexual misconduct and invasion of privacy.
My initials next to the listed items below indicate that I am consenting to those acts:
___ Fondling and kissing intended to cause sexual arousal
___ Oral sex (giving and receiving)
___ Sexual intercourse with a condom
___ Spanking
___ Paddling
___ Sensory deprivation (blindfolds, etc)
___ Ball gags
___ Rope arrangements
___ Cuffs, ties, shackles, and other forms of bondage
___ Nipple clamps
___ Biting
___ Vibrators and forced masturbation
___ Orgasm denial
___ Public play
___ Sex club accompaniments
___ Dirty talk
___ Punishment in various forms (physical, verbal, sexual)
I, _____________, declare that I am drug, alcohol, and infection free, and I am consenting to have sexual intercourse and participate in a D/s relationship with _____________. I also agree to have a complete medical examination done at my earliest convenience and to release the records to _____________.
It is understood that when I say the word STOP at any time, before or after, my partner agrees to cease all activity immediately.
Party 1________________________ Date_________
Party 2 ________________________Date_________
“You’re blushing, Miss Miller.” Of course he points out the obvious.
“Will we be doing all these things?”
“Not necessarily. Some of them I’ve grown quite bored of to be honest. We’ll do whatever strikes my fancy when the mood hits.”
Our stares lock for a moment.
“Do these things scare you?” he asks.
“No,” I half-fib.
“Good,” he says. “You shouldn’t be scared. I would never hurt you, Bellamy. You should know that. This relationship isn’t pleasurable for me if it’s not, at least in some way, pleasurable to you.”
That’s a relief.
“That’s good to hear, because looking at all of these things makes me think you just want to hurt me.” It’s the most honest thing I’ve said in a while.
His hand shoots across the table, falling on mine. His movements are brisk and stiff like he’s not one to easily give comfort, but his gaze is reassuring in this moment.
“Don’t ever think that I want to hurt you. I take care of what belongs to me. I’ll take my pleasure and give some back in return. The power may seem to lie in my hands, Bellamy, but it’s really all yours. If you allow me to touch you, to do these things with you, the power is yours.”
Yeah, but it doesn’t feel like it. If I’m tied up and he’s forcing a vibrator between my thighs, who holds the power then?
“I’ll go slow with you,” he says. “I’m not in the habit of baptizing by fire.”
“Appreciated. Thank you.”
Dane slinks back in the chair, his brows coming together as his elbows rest symmetrically on the wooden arms.
“You’re sure you’ve never been trained before?” he asks.
Not in a sexual way and certainly by choice. “Never.”
“Then why do I get the feeling there’s more to you than what you’re telling me? Why do I feel like I’ve barely scratched your surface?”
“Maybe because you’re not a man who trusts easily.”
I’m brazen and ballsy, but I get the feeling Dane’s a man used to having his ass kissed on a daily basis. My fingers cross under the table in hopes that he’ll respect me more for speaking up to him.
“You’d be right, Bellamy. But it doesn’t take a genius to make an assumption like that about a man in a powerful position. The higher I’ve climbed, the more I’ve found that there are very few people left for me to trust. My inner circle is rather small.”
“Am I in your inner circle? As your concierge?”
“No. But you’re in a position of privilege in my life, and you should be grateful for that.”
I roll my eyes on the inside. Dane needs to get over himself. Then again, if I were as rich and powerful and attractive as he is, I might strut around with an aura of arrogance too.
“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”
Shit. I thought I did that on the inside.
“No?” I ask it, like it’s a question because I don’t know and I didn’t mean to if I did. “I don’t think I did?”
Dane takes a heavy sigh before rocking forward in his chair and rising. He towers above the desk, his jaw set tight.
“Stand,” he orders.
I float above my chair slowly as he wears a calculating glare. “Let me just remind you that I haven’t signed anything yet.”
His fists clench though I get the sense he’s more sexually frustrated than frustrated at me. “You have until the end of the day to officially make up your mind as to whether or not you intend to be my submissive. Your signature on these papers makes it official.”
“Understood.”
“Do you have any questions before I return to my business?”
I have a million of them, but all of them would give away the fact that I’m a flaming virgin, so I shake my head no. A twinge of guilt resides in my chest. I shouldn’t have lied about being a virgin, but he said my job offer was contingent upon my answer, so I panicked.
“Do you have any last confessions or admissions you’d like to share? I’m willing to give you a period of amnesty. Right here. Right now. All confessed will be forgiven. I’m ready to move ahead with you, Bellamy. Anything you’d like to get off your chest?”
I’m a virgin.
My family’s polygamous.
I’m selling myself to you so that I may buy my freedom.
“Nope.” I flash a sweet smile. I’ve just confessed in my head, and that’s good enough for now. Besides, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. And like he said, it’s only sex, and he likes his life to be as uncomplicated as possible. I’m doing him a favor by omitting those particular details. “I’ll sign the documents by the close of business today, Dane.”
“Pardon?”
“Master.”
“Good girl.” His words are like the stroke of a hand atop a dog’s head, and he leaves with a wide smile on his face, which I know is as rare as a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.
I’d be kidding myself if I didn’t admit that a teeny, tiny part of me almost enjoys making him smile.
I scan the consent form one more time, signing away every part of me and initialing next to the kinds of things I never imagined myself doing in all of my days.
I said I was willing to do whatever it takes, and I meant it.
FIVE
DANE
I hit the pavement with a steady gait, one that leads me to the same bar in which I met Bellamy Miller. The fresh air works like a cold shower, and damn, do I need one. It’s all I can do not to bend her over my knee every time she dares talk back to me.
In all fairness, though, she’s not my sub. Not yet. As it stands now, she’s free to speak to me however she pleases.
This day is going to drag; I can feel it from my clenched jaw to the impatient ache in my cock. Every hour that ticks by until she signs the consent form and N.D.A. will only serve to wind me up. It’s better that I stay away for a few hours. Give her space. Give her time to consider the offer a bit more.
“Mr. Manhattan. Was wondering if I’d see you this week.” Matt, the bartender, greets me the second I step inside.
I slide across a barstool and fix my gaze to a T.V. screen where a commercial advertising some miracle cleaning goop flashes with bright blue and yellow letters. It’s garish and attention seeking, not subtle and inherently elegant.
I like subtle and inherently elegant, and I’ve yet to find a sub with those qualities. I’ve met many subs with daddy issues, subs who crave every kind of abuse, and subs whom I wouldn’t be caught dead with in the light of day. The good ones are always hiding in plain sight.
They’re the sophisticated marketing executive or the wholesome, sweater-wearing kindergarten teacher…
The ingénue drinking champagne on a Tuesday…
I glance to the left, at the very bar stool Bellamy had resided in less than a week ago.
“You want to head back with your drink or you staying up here this time?” Matt nods toward the back room where a plain black door with a glass knocker leads to the Crystal Swan.
Some call it an underground sex club. I call it a secret society, a sanctuary where gentleman of the elite variety can wash away the day’s concerns with a bit of sexual gratification.
A strip club or a brothel it is not.
“Thinking about it,” I say, reaching for the crystal tumbler Matt sits before me. I take a drink and let it sit on my tongue as I contemplate my next move. I could easily head into the club, find a pretty Swan to lose myself with for an hour and retreat back to the office.
But my write up is due for the quarterly stockholders statement by close of business today, and I’ve got a four o’clock phone interview with some solar energy newsletter out of Stockton, California.
Aside from my massive to-do list, I’m not quite feeling the Crystal Swan today.
The same thing happened that day I walked in here. I had every intention of heading back to the club for a bit of escapism, but then I saw her. Long, shapely legs. Fuck me lips. And crystal clear eyes round like two flawless diamonds.
I couldn’t think let alone speak for a solid minute. And when I finally came to my senses, I did what I always do when I need to regain control of a situation.
I became an arrogant asshole.
But then when she mentioned Randy had just hired her, and Randy had told me the week before that he was looking to hire a new submissive sexual concierge, I knew I had to have her. She was all wrong for him and sweet perfection for me.
The crystal tumbler is pressed against my bottom lip before I take another sip. Matt made this one extra strong today as if I walked in here with a big red stamp across my forehead that read, “SEXUALLY FRUSTRATED.”
He knows me well.
“You heading back now?” he asks, pulling the empty tumbler away and tucking it under the bar. “Jenessa’s in today.”
My mouth curls up halfway, but only for a split second. I’m sure as fuck not smiling because of Jenessa.
“You know, I think I’ll pass.”
“No prob.”
I hand Matt a twenty and duck out of the bar, opting for a brisk walk before returning to Townsend Tower.
When I’m back to my desk, I scroll over my email, sorting through them in order of importance and ensuring that the ones marked as high are moved to the bottom. I’ll deal with those last. Only pompous assholes have the nerve to use a little red exclamation point.
My phone rings and the extension allocated to Bellamy’s office flashes on my caller ID.
I cock the phone against my shoulder as I type a response to an email from my brother’s assistant. “Yes?”
“Where’d you go?” she asks.
“I’m not sure that’s any of your concern.”
“I finished the consent form.”
I send the email and sit upright. It’s barely past lunch now, and unrelenting excitement flows through me at the realization that we have the rest of the afternoon to begin our training.
“Bring me the form, Bellamy. And the N.D.A.”
“Now?”
I sigh. “Yes. Now.”
She hangs up, and the ticking of the clock fills the silence that consumes my office until the door flies open. I rise, fastening the button of my jacket and taking careful strides toward where she stands in front of the door. Paperwork rests between her thumb and forefinger.
“I’ll take that.” I place the papers on a nearby console, next to the Baccarat crystal swan I received after completing initiation years ago at the club. “Are you ready to begin training?”
“Yes.” Her lips press together as she tucks a strand of hair behind her right ear. Her ears are bare. I’ll have to fix that. My eyes trail down her long neck, the one I’ll be tasting sooner than later. In a past life, Bellamy had to have been a royal, I’m sure of it. Long neck. High cheekbones. Sparkling gaze.
“Pardon?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Very good.”
I circle around her as if I’m assessing her. And I am. I listen as she pulls in a slow breath.
“Do you have any questions for me, Angel?”
“Not yet, Master.”
I can’t see her face, but if I so much as detect a smile or a hint of laughter in her tone when she speaks to me, I’ll take great pleasure in correcting her the best way I see fit.
“You’ll have a myriad of duties, Bellamy. Behind closed doors, you will submit to me sexually. Professionally, you’ll act as a right-hand associate. And socially, you’ll accompany me to events, dinners, and parties.” I pull her hair from her neck and gather it in my hand, tugging it just enough that her chin lifts. “You’ll carry yourself as if you’re the Queen of England at all times. Head held high. A pleasant expression on your face. The epitome of grace and elegance. You have it in you, Bellamy. I noticed it right away. You just need to own it. And I will help you.”
I release her flaxen locks from my grasp and turn her to face me. The gentle curve of her shoulders under my palms could easily become my new favorite addiction.
“The sexual things you consented to are just a small part of this arrangement. You should know that. I’m a man with a very particular sexual appetite, but it doesn’t define me. And this shouldn’t define you either.”
“It’s just sex. I know.”
“Do not speak out of turn, Angel.”
“I’m sorry.” She holds her shoulders straight though her gaze falls to the floor. “I’m sorry, Master.”
“I’m training you now, breaking you in, but after that, there will be no room for mistakes on your part. Is that understood?”
Her full lips part and then seam together. Instead of speaking, she nods.
“I don’t want you afraid of me. Please. I would feel like a monster if you were terrified of me.” I graze my hand along her collarbone. Her neck is bare, but she belongs in diamonds. “You are mine. It’s my job to spoil you. Care for you. Ensure you have everything you need. The world is your oyster now, Bellamy. You won’t need to ask for a single thing because everything will be provided for you.”
My hand cups the underside of her sophisticated jawline, and I lead her face toward mine, inhaling her in like a full-bodied wine.
“I’m going to kiss you, Bellamy, because I want you to trust me. Are you ready?”
“Yes, Master.”
My lips press into hers, forcing them apart and melding with their heat. Two soft pillows provide a soft landing, and I take what now belongs to me with an overzealous hunger. Our tongues fuse and flick, a slow dance of the most titillating variety. I pull away, licking her exquisite deliciousness from my lips.
“Has anyone ever kissed you that way before?”
Her head shakes from side to side. “I’ve never had a kiss like that before, Master.”
“Then that was your first proper kiss?”
“It was.” Her tongue glides along the inside of her lower lip. “Master.”
“Would you like more?”
“Yes, please.”
“No, no.” I push a firm breath through my nose. “You will ask in the most refined and polite way possible at all times. Try again.”
“Please kiss me like that once more, Master.”
“Better.”
I step into her space again, gripping the back of her neck as I force her up against a nearby wall. My lips crush hers all over again, only this time I’m not hurrying. I’ll take my time, enjoying her sweet flavor and velvet tongue, fantasizing about what she’s going to feel like wrapped around my throbbing cock.
All in due time.
Her hands lift, reaching for my arms, and her fingers press into my flesh with desperate intensity.
“No, no, Angel,” I say, my mouth still locked with hers. I grab her wrists and pull them down to her sides. Before I come up for air, I take her full bottom lip into my mouth and suck before giving a tender bite. “You don’t get to touch me unless I say you can.”
“I’m sorry, Master.”
“Do you want to touch me?”
I lose myself for a moment in the sky blue haze of her eyes, and then I snap myself out of it. Distractions come in the form of a beautiful woman. It happens. But I refuse to let it tear us out of this perfectly lovely teaching moment.
“Yes.” She squares her shoulders with mine, keeping her arms flat at her sides. Fast learner. Love that. “Please let me touch you. Please tell me how I can pleasure you.”
“Do you want to pleasure me, Bellamy?”
“I live to pleasure you, my master.”
She sounds robotic. Unnatural. And I’m damn sure she’s just telling me what I want to hear because she has no clue how this works.
“I’ve got my work cut out with you.” My forehead wrinkles as I study her pretty face.
“Did I upset you? Am I doing this wrong?” Her shoulders slump. She’s coming out of this like an actor exiting stage left. “I want to learn, Dane. Tell me.”
“You’re doing fine, Bellamy. You’re still learning. I’d just prefer if it felt a bit more…organic on your end.”
“Nothing about this is organic for me.” She sighs like she’s upset with herself. “But I want to learn. I think I could learn to enjoy it.”
I knew training Bellamy would come with a few trying moments, but a woman who’s not desperately throwing herself at me is something I’ve yet to deal with.
“You say that, but your jaw is clenched tight.” I drag my fingertip along her cheekbone and let it fall. “Makes me think you’re telling me what you think I want to hear, and I’m quite certain you know damn well not to do that.”
“I mean it. I’ve never backed down from a challenge, and I’m not about to start now.”
“Not everyone is submissive material.”
I slip one hand in my pocket and head over to my mini bar, pouring myself a finger of single malt Macallan and dropping in a small handful of frozen soapstone.
“I thought you were, but now all I feel like I’m doing is making you extremely uncomfortable. Takes the pleasure out of this if I’m honest.”
“You’ve trained other girls, right? I’m not the first?”
“Right.” I take another sip, letting it burn as it sits on my tongue. After one fiery swallow, I add, “There was something different about you when I kissed you. You kissed me back. You reached for me, wanted to touch me.”
She shrugs. “Isn’t that what happens when people kiss?”
“I felt something from you,” I say. “I don’t want you to get emotionally vested in this, Bellamy. That’s the worst possible thing that could happen for you, and I’m not being glib. The last thing I need is you confusing my kisses with something they’re not. Next thing I know, you’ll be asking me to come home with you at Easter. And I just can’t do that. I’ll never be that man. Not for you, not for anyone.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks flash red. It’s instant. “Oh. No. No, no, no. You do not have to worry about that with me.”
My mouth cracks wide as I enjoy another sip. “If I had a share of Apple stock for every time I heard that…”
“I don’t do love or boyfriends or any of that,” she attempts to reassure me.
“Bellamy, everyone does love.”
Even a cold-hearted asshole like myself has considered it from time to time.
“It’s so far off my radar.” Her hands press against the air. “I promise you, Dane, you have absolutely nothing to worry about.”
Her fingers criss-cross over her heart, and a coy grin claims her pretty mouth. Her crystal eyes soften, and she lowers herself to her knees, tucking the fabric of her skirt over them first.
“Now, can I please service you, Master? It would make me a very happy woman, and there’s nothing more I’d rather do right now.”
