“I spent most of it in the back office talking to the police. How are you getting along with Amanda?” André sounded tired.
James wondered if he’d even left the club. He knew his friend sometimes crashed on the couch in his office rather deal with the estrogen ocean he called home.
“She isn’t talking much. What can you share with me?” James was hoping André could shed some light on her home life.
André sighed heavily. “Her mom is a loser magnet. She’s had more husbands than I’ve had submissives and that’s saying something.” His friend’s laugh sounded a bit forced, confirming to James that André was having a hard time keeping harmony at home.
“From what I hear, Amanda wasn’t abused, but she sure witnessed enough of it. Her mom was a punching bag for several of her exes.”
“What brought her to Phoenix?” James was careful to keep his voice neutral.
“Trix, her mom, gave me a call. She was really upset.”
James waited and couldn’t help wonder if the story would continue to match the blog. He was a little depressed that her posts were ringing true.
“Amanda came home one night crying with bruises on her arm. Someone had man-handled her and Trix was pretty sure it was a boyfriend. She was scared to death her daughter would follow her path. She thought that if Amanda went away to school, under my supervision, we might be able to break the cycle. So I sent her a plane ticket.”
There was no mention of bruises or any physical harm befalling the girl in the blog. “Did you see the bruises?” Then realizing how that had sounded, James quickly covered his tracks. “Did they look like a handprint?”
“She had some smudges on her arm, but she said a customer had grabbed her to get her attention and that her mom wouldn’t believe her. I don’t know which is true and it doesn’t matter to me. She was working as a waitress in a biker bar, getting her out of there was imperative.”
“What about this boyfriend? Was he a Dom?” He believed Amanda’s story about the customer. It fitted better with the blog posts. He remembered reading a tirade about arrogant men who thought they had the right to touch women and how they needed to respect ‘personal space’.
“I don’t believe she was tight with anyone, but I wouldn’t say she’s ever been forthcoming with information. She arrived with a chip on her shoulder. She refused to take any money from me. While we were still in the airport she gave me the money back for the airfare. She spent the first day here at ASU working some kind of magic. Granted, she has excellent grades, but she managed a full-ride scholarship from their prestigious business school. Her second day here she found an apartment, bought a piece-of-shit car and moved out.”
“Where was the money coming from?” James had never known André to lie and he had no reason to that James could see. No matter which way James looked at it, Amanda was one interesting woman.
“I think she saved it. She pinches a penny better than anyone I’ve ever met. The only thing I’ve managed to do for her is give her a decent salary and after I wrecked her car she agreed to take my old one.”
“You wrecked her car?” James laughed, surprised.
André chuckled. “I had the girls drop me off at work so I’d have an excuse to borrow hers when I made my nightly dinner run. Have you been in her apartment? There isn’t enough food to keep a rat alive—so every night she works I make sure I bring a pizza or something and make her eat it. Anyway, I ran it into a ditch. It was a rusted death trap. I tried to buy her a new car, but she wouldn’t take it. I tried to give her a raise and the down-payment for a new car, but she wouldn’t take that either. So we compromised and I gave her my old car.”
This didn’t sound in any way like the heartless bitch only out for her own gain that James had been reading about in the blog posts last night. “Good thinking. So how did she end up wearing your collar?”
“She got a job waitressing at this dive down in south Phoenix. I wasn’t going to allow that. I wanted her where I could keep an eye on her, but she refused to come to work for me. She finally admitted she wasn’t ready to start dating again and she was afraid if she worked at the club it would get awkward. I offered my protection as a way of getting her to accept the job, but honestly, James, I’ve never bought the boyfriend story.”
This was a complete change of events… “Has anyone at the club shown a serious interest in Amanda?”
“A few guys have commented that hiring her was a great choice, that she was beautiful, that sort of thing. But she hasn’t asked about anyone and I’ve never seen her play with anyone. At times, I get the impression she isn’t a fan of the lifestyle. I’ve never called her on it because it suits my purposes to keep her at the club.”
“André, I appreciate the info. You’ve filled in a few of the blanks for me.” James’ head was reeling. He needed to sort through the bullshit and find the truth.
“Amanda is headstrong…prideful. According to her mom, she likes to argue, but I can’t get much out of her. She doesn’t do small talk. And, James, if you see she needs something, please tell me. She acts like asking for help is a fate worse than death.”
“Will do. We’ll see you tonight.” James disconnected the call then shoved the phone in his pocket. He booted his laptop and took his time going through the copy he had made of Amanda’s hard drive.
Not long after he’d finished, Amanda’s class was dismissed. One of the documents on her computer had been a copy of her class schedule. He knew she had a two-hour break coming up and he knew just how to spend it. James greeted her at the door.
“Let’s go grab a bite to eat.” James quickly got her out of the crowded hallway and headed down the backstairs.
“We just ate.” Amanda looked up at James with a hint of surprise.
“That was three hours ago. I know a quiet place close by. I’ll have you back in plenty of time for your next class.”
Amanda kept pace with him as he led her back to the parking lot. Just before they reached his car, she paused. “How do you know my schedule?”
James flashed her a confident grin. “It’s my job to know everything about you. Get in the car,” he ordered, holding the passenger door open for her.
Chapter Three
James was surprised by the way Amanda looked through the menu. First she scanned the right side of the menu, seemingly looking at the prices, then, finding what he suspected were the cheapest items, she glanced to see what they were. He wasn’t going to let her play it that way. “Are you a sandwich or a burger kind of girl?”
“I’m not picky. What do you like here?”
“They make a great steak sandwich.” He watched her find it on the menu then frown at the price.
“That sounds good, but I think I’ll go with something a little lighter.” She closed the menu and set it aside. “So, how did you figure out my schedule?”
“It was on your computer.” He wasn’t going to lie to her even if it would make his life easier.
“You went through my computer? I asked you to print a document not invade my privacy.” Her tone was sharp.
James was pretty good at reading body language and she looked more worried than angry. She was wringing her hands and chewing on her lower lip.
“You can’t stand behind an expectation of privacy when you hand over your laptop to someone.” He had overstepped his bounds, but she needed to come clean.
“Forgive me for trusting you!”
James raised an eyebrow at her, but the waitress chose that moment to take their order. “We’ll have two steak sandwiches and two diet sodas.” He handed the lady the menus as Amanda stared at him. “Don’t give me any lip.” He leaned in closer to her. ”You’re eating a real meal. When we go out, you’ll start looking at the food choices, not the prices. I don’t give a damn what a meal costs. If you’re hungry and it looks good—order the damned thing.”
Amanda turned a very pretty shade of pink before she recovered and started giving him shit. “Listen, I’ll order whatever I want to order. It isn’t any of your business. Much like the stuff you looked at on my computer wasn’t any of your business. You had no right to do any of this.”
James leaned back into the booth and regarded her unapologetically. He refused to play games with her. “Someone is threatening to kill you—that gives me the right. You’ve been feeding me a line of bullshit and wasting my time having me track down altar boys that you made out to be a dangerous Dom.”
“I never said David was a dangerous Dom,” she whispered, “and keep your voice down. No one needs to hear this subject when they’re trying to eat.”
James cocked his head and gave her his best disapproving look. The picture was becoming a bit clearer. “So you admit you have a beef with the lifestyle and that you’ve lied to a man who opened his home to you and has done nothing but try and help you.”
“I didn’t mean to lie to you. You wouldn’t let the boyfriend thing drop. I told you he wasn’t involved, but you demanded a name.” She stabbed her finger down on the table. “And why am I explaining myself to you—you’re the one who invaded my privacy.”
He liked that she immediately thought of him, but he wasn’t going to let her off the hook. “I was talking about André,” he told her solemnly.
“You don’t fight fair. I’m the victim here.” She immediately looked contrite.
So Amanda did have a conscience. “I’m trying to keep you from being a victim. And this manufactured drama”—he waved his hand in a circle—“isn’t helping us find the stalker.”
She opened her mouth then, seemingly changing her mind, closed it again. James had a great deal of patience when he needed it. He didn’t mind waiting her out.
“What do you need from me?”
Your submission
, was on the tip of his tongue, but he settled for, “The truth.” Vowing in time he would get both.
Before Amanda could reply, the waitress brought their order. She stared at her food then poked the bun.
He struggled not to smile. Clearly she was weighing her hunger versus her need to stand on principle. Apparently, hunger won out because she took a tentative bite then another.
“Who knows you work at DiscipliNation?”
“Ssshhh! You have a deep voice and it carries. Stop talking so loud. No one needs to know where I work.”
There was too much distance between them. He needed to break down the walls she’d built around herself if he was going to get anywhere. “Move over,” James ordered as he stood up and switched to her side of the booth.
Amanda scrambled to scoot over and give him room.
She moved as close to the end of the booth as she could. No problem, he didn’t like sitting near the edge anyway and closed the distance between them. “Answer my question. Tell me who knows where you work—although I can guess what you’re going to say.”
“I’m going to ignore your condescending tone and answer your question even though you’ve been a total jerk throughout this meal… I don’t share personal information with people. So no one except my mom knows I work there.”
James was getting the distinct impression that Amanda was running scared. It was time to lay his cards on the table. “I’m confused…if you’re such a private person, why do you tell everyone with an internet connection about your sexual exploits?”
All the color faded from her face. Her eyes grew wide and her hands began to shake. “What are you talking about?”
“Aren’t your followers a little pissed you call yourself a…”
“Don’t say it!” Amanda turned to face the wall away from James and raised her hand as if that would stop the words from leaving his mouth. “Not here, just stop. I don’t want to talk about this.”
Before she turned away, he caught the gleam of tears in her eyes and he knew he was pushing her too hard. “We are going to talk about it, but we can wait until we’re alone.”
“Okay—later.” She picked up her soda and took a sip.
He didn’t like that he’d upset her. She’d gotten under his skin and it had made him angry. He’d spent much of last night second-guessing his instincts and feeling like a damn idiot for getting fooled by her. Only to find this morning that no, he’d been right on the money, she wasn’t the cold, heartless bitch her blog made her out to be. “Eat your food.”
“Stop ordering me around. I’m not some mindless bimbo that gets off on that.”
“Excuse me?” Not only did she seem embarrassed she worked at a kink club, but if that was her impression of the women there, she obviously didn’t understand a thing about the lifestyle. Then again, if the blog was even a little true, she’d only slept with two guys and neither were Doms.
“Don’t talk to me. I’m not happy with you right now. You can’t just boss me around like those stupid women you…meet at the club.”
James sat back in the booth and laughed. “I suggest you settle down and eat.” It seemed Amanda might be a tad jealous. She looked mad enough to spit nails and it pleased him more than it should. It also got him hot.
“I’m not hungry.” Amanda pushed her plate away.
James turned sideways to face her. “Your little outburst has made me very hungry. For you. I’m trying to be a gentleman here. Why don’t you make it easier on me and start eating? I want half that sandwich gone before we leave.”
“You realize that since you
ordered
me to eat this”—she pointed at the food on her plate—“I can’t.”
He was watching her closely. He couldn’t help it. Everything about her appealed to him. She might be angry, but she was also getting aroused. When he exerted his will, her breathing hitched and she clenched her legs together. Amanda needed to come to grips with the fact that he was a Dom and she would obey him in matters of her health and safety. Period. It wasn’t up for discussion.
James picked up her sandwich and brought it to her mouth. “Open up.”
Amanda’s eyes dilated and her nipples hardened. Unless James had completely misread the situation, Amanda was a natural submissive and her body responding to him frightened her. She looked panicked as she brought her foot up onto the seat bench.
“Oh no, ya don’t.” James pushed her foot off the bench then moved his thigh over her lap. He leaned in and put his lips to her ear. “Settle down and breathe.”
He drew back and looked her in the eye. After setting the sandwich on the plate he took her hands and placed them on his chest. “Follow my lead.”