The Switch (5 page)

The idiot had failed to erase his browsing
history on her computer.

The porn didn’t bother her in the least. And
she wouldn’t have batted a lash at the content, except for the
common theme throughout all the pictures, websites, and video
histories.

Hell, even that wasn’t a shocker in itself;
she’d be calling the kettle black if it were. It was more that it
was Grayson with this fixation. It went completely counter to the
image he projected.

Many years and countless subs later, she had
to laugh. His ‘kinky little secret’ was just another cliché. She’d
seen so many men at the club like him – strong, rich, handsome,
in-control-of-everything, but needing desperately to be dominated
and controlled, themselves.

Only, they weren’t anything like him.
Because they weren’t
him
.

Of all the BDSM clubs in all the cities in
this huge country, he had to walk into mine…

She wondered for months after that night
what would have happened had she confronted him, or at least let
him see her. Instead, she’d chickened out, made her staff trade
shifts whenever he was in, so she could spend the evening in the
security booth monitoring the cameras in the club.

Hiding.

Monitoring
him
in
her
club.

Not that there’d been much to see,
initially. At first, he’d just watched. That’s all new members were
allowed for a month-long window period, during which time they
underwent extensive background screening and blood tests. After the
probationary period, accepted members as well as staff were
monitored with bi-monthly health screenings for the duration of
their association with the club.

Four goddamned months. It nearly did her in.
At least for the first few weeks, she knew he wasn’t touching or
being touched. But after that… Well, she didn’t want to know. As a
result, her own attendance had dropped off considerably.

A sigh hissed through her teeth as she
leaned over the railing.

Idiot.

Who was she fooling? She might be the
most-respected Domme at
Ten
, but here? Fuck - throw Grayson
into the mix, and she wasn’t fit to dominate a baby kitten, much
less the man who held her heart.

All this time, and she’d spent it hiding,
peeking through his client records (hey, as part owner, she was
allowed, right?), agonizing over her own stupid jealousy while
memorizing the details of his sessions for her own purposes. She
was a coward and a creep. And yet, his records haunted her
imagination.

Marion gasped silently as a brief fantasy
flashed in her mind: lips swollen from biting back moans, eyes
covered in black silk, the muscle of his jaw twitching erratically
as he waited on his knees for her next move. Heat danced through
her belly, skittering down to a shot between her legs. The rush of
anticipation and want was so sudden and thick, she almost didn’t
hear the door behind her open.

Marion didn’t move so much as a muscle at
the soft snick of the door behind him. He grinned, taking it as
confirmation – clearly she was waiting for him to make the first
move. He took a deep, silent breath to calm his nerves. He’d passed
on the alcohol after that second Scotch. Not knowing what exactly
was in store later, he didn’t want to take any chances of being too
inebriated to function. Now he was grateful, because the sight
before him was enough to make his senses go sideways.

Taking his time to properly appreciate the
feminine form leaning over the stone banister, Grayson licked his
lips like the perv he was. From her lethally high stilettos, up the
black seam of stockings leading all the way to the flash of
creamy-gold bare thigh peeking out from under her skirt, it was
truly uncanny all the details she’d gotten right.

Her hips shifted and he realized she was
watching him, a curtain of ebony hair shadowing her dark gaze as
she looked over her shoulder. When their eyes met, she said
nothing, but turned back to her lookout, her back arching and hips
pushing out ever so slightly. If that wasn’t an invitation, he
didn’t know what it was.

The air on the balcony suddenly felt heavy
and thick despite the cool of late October. Everything was about to
change between them. The friendship that had been spiked with
unfulfilled want for so long now lay on the marble patio before him
like a gauntlet.

For the first time ever, he was actually
nervous about a girl. No, a woman. Fuck, not just a woman,
either.

This was Marion - a woman who, deep down
inside, he considered his best friend, a little more than his buddy
Corbin, even. Of course, Corbin had never played so much as a
peripheral role in Grayson’s wettest dreams and filthiest
fantasies. Marion, on the other hand, had dominated his imagination
for years, in more ways than one. To have her here, now, bent over
in offering while dressed like that… he was so hard it almost
hurt.

And that wasn’t
just
a sexy costume,
it was a message. Somehow she knew, had found out his deepest
secret. But how much did she know? And how to figure that out?

After a moment’s consideration, Grayson made
up his mind. He’d go easy, get a feel for the situation, and take
it from there. If she rejected him, he’d simply chalk it up to
alcohol, and they’d be no worse off than these past four months
since the July incident.

As he moved in behind her, he had to fight
the urge to slide that scant bit of leather up over her hips right
there and then. “Well, well,” he drawled as she straightened
against him. “Happy birthday to me.” He lightly slid his hands over
her curves and nuzzled his face into that dark fall of
spice-and-sweet hair.

Rather than moving into his touch, however,
Marion stiffened and removed his hands from her waist. Her eyes
were cool and her lips formed a hard line as she turned to face
him.

“It would be in your best interest, Jones,
to keep your hands and your mouth to yourself until I give you
permission to do otherwise,” she said in a low, commanding tone.
“Do I make myself clear?” she asked, raising the tip of her riding
crop to press that fold of buttery-soft leather against his bottom
lip.

Oh, fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck…

Grayson’s blood ran a shot of ice through
his system before pounding a searing rhythm from his head to crotch
as he realized just how much she understood. His cock twitched as
she lazily slid the end of her crop over his jaw line and tilted
her head at him expectantly.

“Am I clear, Grayson?” she repeated softly,
but the edge beneath her words was steel.

Something inside him gave over, almost
immediately. Looking down and away from the goddess before him, he
nodded. “Yes,” he answered quietly, even as his heart raced and his
groin tightened unbearably.

“Very good,” Marion purred, reaching a
gloved hand up to his face and running a silk-clad thumb over his
mouth. “We’ll work on how you’ll properly address me later,” she
said before giving his cheek a soft pat and turning to lean over
the railing once more.

He was stunned, awestruck, and completely
owned in less than a minute. Even if he had a clue as to what to do
next, he didn’t dare move without her command. His head buzzed from
the sudden and pleasantly violent upending his world had just
suffered.

“I’m thirsty,” Marion said pointedly.

Without a word, Grayson went back inside,
heading for the refreshment table.

Marion
smiled inwardly as Grayson trailed behind her to her car. What on
earth had she been worried about? She could barely remember her
earlier apprehension now, as she rode her current rush of molten,
sweet power.

The sight of his façade slipping from his
face on that balcony, of his submission flooding in to take its
place… she would never, ever forget the beauty and sensuality of
that moment.

Even after tomorrow.

This was just one night - she’d made that
decision weeks ago. And Olivia’s appearance had sealed that
decision doubly. Eventually, Grayson would marry someone, and it
wouldn’t be her. Best to get this infatuation out of the way once
and for all. Worst case scenario, it would be the end of their
friendship. That’d hurt, but it might be for the best, anyway.
Clean breaks and all that.

They neared her car and she gestured
silently to the passenger side. She went easy on him in front of
his friends. Once they arrived at her suite, however, he was all
hers.

Silence filled the car, thick and ponderous
over a bed of engine purr and occasional clutch-pedal-gearshift
sounds.

Grayson wanted to fidget, but he didn’t
move. He sure as hell didn’t dare speak. He was already in trouble
for his ‘impertinence’ on the balcony, and apparently due for
punishment once they reached their destination. Funny how his cock
grew heavy at the thought, even as his stomach tightened with
nerves.

Marion swung the sporty little Porsche 911
around another curve before downshifting for the turn onto the
interstate. Christ, even her driving skills were hot. She still
drove stick after all these years.

“You may ask any questions you have now,”
she said, not casting so much as a glance at him as she merged onto
the highway.

“How did you know?” The words left his mouth
before he could reconsider them. He looked at her in time to see
the corner of her mouth quirk up.

“I’ve had an idea for some time. That summer
you stayed at my place, you left all kinds of evidence on my
computer. But I didn’t know for certain until you showed up at my
club four months ago.”

His stomach went from knots to ice buckets.
“Your…
Your
club?” he asked, his throat suddenly dry.

She gave a half-shrug. “Partly mine.”

“And you’re just now telling me this?” A
multitude of emotions roiled in his head at this news. Anger was
the quickest to surface, but dissipated almost immediately at the
look she threw him.

“I am just now telling you this,” she
answered coolly, but gave no further explanation.

It took Grayson a long minute to process
that before asking, “How much do you know?”

“Do you really want the details? As
part-owner, I help oversee all the applicants, Grayson. You’re
aware of our screening process, our health code and testing
requirements. Close monitoring of activities as well as the comfort
and satisfaction of our guests is a large part of our success and
exclusivity.”

He had no response for that, so he let the
silence settle back between them.

Fuck.
She knew practically
everything, then. He thought back to his activities at
Ten
,
the extremely upscale, extremely private club that catered to
people like him. People with a seven-figure portfolio and
less-than-conventional sexual tastes.

The hilarious part was that he hadn’t had
actual sex with anyone in months – longer than his membership. He’d
joined the club with the hopes of sorting himself out, but he was
more fucked-up than ever. And now Marion knew all about it. So, why
wasn’t he fuming? He cast another look at her profile. She was
totally relaxed, yet that aura of command surrounded her like a
rich fur coat. Was she always like this?

“We’ll be there in fifteen minutes, so if
you have any more questions, we’d better address them,” she
said.

“I thought you moved to Baltimore,” he said,
frowning.

“I did. Two years ago. I moved back to the
area this summer to help out my father after his back surgery,” she
answered.

And she hadn’t told him. That stung.

“I need to know, truthfully, what sexual
relations you’ve had outside of
Ten
since your initial
testing,” she said suddenly.

Oh. That. He suddenly wanted to lie, tell
her he’d been fucking everything that moved multiple times a week.
But then she slid him a sidelong look and added, “It’s been six and
a half weeks for me, full protection, and I’ve had two clean tests
since then.”

He swallowed. “Uhm. Five months, about.”

She raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

When they came to a stop in the parking lot
beneath a tall, converted factory downtown, Marion shut off the
engine and turned to Grayson.

“Your safe word is ‘apple,’ same as at
Ten
. Use it, and everything stops. You may call me Mistress,
or Ma’am, or you may simply answer in the affirmative or negative,
as long as I find your tone pleasing. Everything else, I expect
you’ll already know from experience, yes?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he answered immediately.
But it didn’t feel quite right. No matter, because at that moment,
the car locks flipped with a pointed click. Without another word,
he got out and came to the driver’s side, opening the door for his…
his what?

“Eyes down, Jones,” she reminded him, and he
felt himself blushing, for fuck’s sake.

Of course, at that moment, ‘eyes down’
brought his gaze to the dark golden length of her legs as they
gracefully unfolded from the car. Her skirt rode up to an indecent
height on her thigh as she stood, and he had to force his eyes to a
spot of oil on the concrete to keep from ogling her cleavage. His
effort was rewarded with a rich chuckle and a light, teasing tap of
the riding crop against his cheek.

The ride in the cargo elevator seemed to
take forever. Grayson was just glad no one else got on. He was
fully hard, his cock jutting awkwardly in his stupid damned Han
Solo pants. When he moved to adjust himself, she made a ‘tsht’
sound with her teeth and swatted his hand away. Again with that
fucking crop.

Finally, the heavy steel doors parted, and
he pulled the outer grate to the side, letting her exit the lift
first. When they reached the door at the end of a long hallway
filled with about a dozen other doors, she turned.