Authors: Doris O'Connor
"When you're ready
to trust me, look me up,
Neeve
."
He turned on his heel
and jumped off the porch with a grace and light footedness completely at odds
with his big, powerful body. She watched him stroll off, more confused than
ever, clutching the invite to Club Ink as though her life depended on it.
Who was this man,
really? And did she dare find out?
Chapter Three
"Okay, enough. What
is
the matter with you these days?" Estelle turned the tap off and
took the overflowing kettle out of
Neeve's
hands. She
poured most of it down the sink and then set it on its stand to boil. "And
don't tell me it’s nothing,
Neeve
. You haven't been
right since the collaring ceremony, and you still owe me an explanation as to
how you did that."
She tapped on the just
healed patch of skin on
Neeve's
wrist and then
perched her hands on her hips. "Come on, this is just between you and
me." She winked and bumped her hip against
Neeve
.
"
Ya
know, like the good old days. Let's pretend
we're on a night in." She glanced at the baby monitor through which Janus'
sleepy snuffles could be heard. "We haven't managed that in a while, after
all."
"You've been
busy."
Neeve's
flat reply made her oldest friend
frown, and she forced a smile on her lips. "Not that I blame you. Your
priorities have changed, I get that. And little Janus is adorable." She
glanced at the delicate collar on Estelle's neck and hastily looked away.
"I just hope he's worth all the … the stuff."
"That's
what this all about?"
Neeve
shrugged her
shoulders, and Estelle sighed.
"And that from the
girl who once said
just tie
yourself
to his desk,
that'll get his attention.
" Estelle giggled in remembrance, and
Neeve's
lips, too, twitched into the semblance of a smile.
She had made that particular suggestion after they'd both had one too many, and
Estelle had confessed her unrequited lust for her boss, Nathan Fielding.
"And the girl who signed me up to Club Ink's online sessions, I might add.
What happened to that girl,
Neeve
?
When did you get all serious and judgmental
on me?"
Again
Neeve's
eyes darted to Estelle's collar, and Estelle
touched it with a small smile.
"Does this bother
you that much?"
Neeve
nodded, not
trusting herself to not blurt out her true feelings. Estelle was her oldest and
closest friend. She didn't want to alienate her.
"Why?" Estelle
asked.
"Why doesn't it
bother
you
? A bit of kink is fun, but to allow
yourself
to become a man's property, to be collared? How could you do that?"
Estelle took a step back in surprise at the harsh questions, and
Neeve
flinched at the hurt expression on her face.
"I'm sorry. It's
none of my business really. Forget I said that. I know you're happy, but I
could never be like you."
"Like me?"
Estelle laughed and turned around to pour the now boiled water into the tea
pot. She added the tea leaves and swirled the pot around once.
"
Neeve
, have you ever wondered why this bothers you so
much?" Estelle turned back around and studied her. "Why you've never
settled down with any man?"
"Because
all men are assholes, maybe?
And I have no intention of settling down,"
Neeve
said.
"Nathan thinks
you're really a submissive, and —"
"Nathan thinks
what?
Are you insane, Estelle?"
Neeve
interrupted her
friend, but Estelle took no notice of her outrage. She put a hand on
Neeve's
arm as though to reassure her, and then pulled her
into an unexpected hug. Some of the fight went out of
Neeve
.
Estelle may be deluded, but she loved her dearly, and she didn't want to lose
her over this.
"Let me finish,
Neeve
." Estelle let her go, and
Neeve
wrapped her arms around herself.
"Fine, do enlighten
me. This ought to be good. But I warn you, if you think you can sign me up to
any damn class in submission training, then you've got another think
coming."
Estelle smiled and
pursed her lips in a way that made
Neeve's
skin itch.
She knew that look. Her friend was up to something.
"Tell me, what do
you think of
Grisha
?"
"
Grisha
, who?"
Neeve
tried her best to feign nonchalance, and she was sure she failed miserably. The
mere mention of his name made her breasts ache and her lower abdomen clench, as
tingles spread from her core.
She was
glad her crossed arms hid her body's reaction. She could almost smell his
intoxicating scent in the air, much as it still clung to the tuxedo jacket she
had yet to have cleaned and delivered back to him. And she was not going to
analyze why two weeks after their meeting, she still hadn't done so. Instead
she ran her hands over the jacket at least once a day and lost sleep every
night due to the incredibly erotic dreams, starring none other than the black
Russian.
Estelle just looked at
her, and
Neeve
gave in.
"Ok, what do you
want me to say? He's hot as hell, and I want to jump his bones? Sure I do, but
that's
never
gonna
happen, is it?
He'll want me jumping through his hoops, and I can't do that. I'm not a fucking
sub."
"Has he said
that?" Estelle asked. If her grin got any wider she would split her face
in half. "
Grisha
has a way of making your
fantasies come true,
Neeve
. He would never push you
into something you weren't ready for, you know."
"You would say
that. If he's so wonderful, then why didn't you have him?"
"She did."
Nathan's deep growl made
Neeve
jump and look at
Estelle nervously, but her friend wasn't paying any attention to her. She'd
dropped to her knees and looked at the floor, and
Neeve
rolled her eyes.
"I wasn't expecting
you yet, Sir?" Estelle said.
"I decided to
surprise you." Nathan stepped toward his wife and smiled down on her. He
cupped her chin to make her look at him, and the look of tenderness that passed
between the two of them, made
Neeve
feel as though
she was intruding on a very private moment.
"Where's Janus?
he
asked.
"Asleep,
Sir."
"Is that so, my
sub?" Nathan's smile deepened. "In that case, get up my sweet and
prepare the play room."
Estelle scrambled to do
his bidding with such a look of eager anticipation;
Neeve
had to suppress a groan.
"I take that as my
cue to leave, then."
Estelle blew her a kiss,
and
Neeve
made to leave, but Nathan stood in her way
like a man-made mountain. She tried to stare him down, but he simply looked at
her, until she dropped her gaze to the kitchen floor.
"Estelle is right.
You would be in good hands with
Grisha
." Her
head jerked up at that quietly uttered statement to see him smile. "I'm
not convinced you would be good for him, but he seems quite determined."
"Have you been
discussing me?" The words came out sharper than she intended them to, and
she hastily lowered her eyes again, when she saw him frown.
"After your little
stunt at the ceremony, you bet we did. If it was up to me I would have you
banned from Club Ink, and my family." He put his hand up when she would
have interrupted him, and
Neeve
swallowed the angry
retort instead. Who did he think he was? Ban her from Estelle and little Janus?
He had no right, damn him.
"However, I'm not
the ogre you think me to be.
I love my
wife, and I want to see her happy. She worries over you, and I do not like it.
So, for everyone's sakes I would suggest you sort that pretty little head of
yours out." He gestured to her wrist, and
Neeve
fought the urge to hide it behind her back.
"
Grisha
can help you with that. Take him up on his
invitation, and you may well surprise yourself." He turned to leave the
room, and
Neeve
released the breath she'd been
holding with a quiet whoosh. Nathan chuckled.
"See yourself out,
won't you? I need to see to my sub."
Neeve
hurried to
comply, but not before she caught a glimpse of Estelle, naked and on her knees
in the room that was normally locked from view. Her face lit up when Nathan
walked in and shrugged out of his shirt. He unbuttoned his jeans, and Estelle
licked her lips. Even from the distance
Neeve
could see
the rapid rise and fall of her friend's chest and the unmistakable sheen of
arousal coloring her skin.
"Now, greet me
properly, my sweet."
Neeve
left the
house with the image of Estelle's lips wrapped around her husband's cock, and a
vague sense of yearning in her gut.
****
Three days later
Neeve
clutched the now dry-cleaned tuxedo jacket to her as
though it was a plastic wrapped shield of armor. The flimsy protective cover
stuck to the bare skin of her arm it was draped over, and still, she could swear
Grisha's
scent remained. It was as though the blasted
man had imprinted himself onto her. She shook her head at her fancy imaginings.
They hadn't even kissed for heaven's sake, and she acted like a love-sick
teenager. Lord only knew what state she would be in if he actually gave her the
fucking she craved.
Neeve
resisted the
urge to fan herself at the sinfully erotic images playing themselves out in her
mind at the mere thought. It was all Estelle's fault,
damn her.
A phone
call reminding her to check her e-mail had forever burned the images in that
video link into her brain. She'd known of course that
Neeve's
natural curiosity would get the better off her, and true to form, she couldn't
resist the temptation.
As appalled as she had
been at the images in front of her, she had sat transfixed, seeing
Grisha
in action. Utterly focused on the gagged and bound
sub's needs, he had taken the unknown woman to the edge time and time again. By
the time he released her from her bonds she had collapsed into his arms.
Neeve's
heart had given a suspicious little bump in her
chest witnessing the tender way in which he'd taken care of her until the sub
had had
herself
back under control. In fact she'd
replayed that part over and over, not quite daring to believe what she was
seeing. It had also left her confused as hell. The woman had come, several
times in fact, yet
Grisha
hadn't once sought his own
release, despite the obvious and huge erection threatening to burst out of his
jeans.
What she witnessed
didn't add up with her preconceived notions, and the more links she'd clicked
on, the more confused she'd become. Estelle hadn't pulled her punches. The
websites she'd pointed
Neeve
to
were
as informative as they were arousing, until
Neeve
had
to take matters into her own hands to seek a rather unfulfilling release.
As she stood outside
Club Ink
Neeve
had to concede that maybe, there was
more to this whole lark than she had anticipated. Not that she would ever admit
that to anyone. She'd had a hard enough time admitting it to herself. The mark
on her wrist mocked her, and she could hear
Grisha's
voice in her head.
I leave marks that fade,
never scar. Marks that tease, and arouse … Marks that will proclaim I own you …
Think on that, sweetheart, next time you stare into the flame.
How he had known those
words would stop her, she had no idea. But those words had gotten her through
the anniversary weekend of her parent's death. Every time she reached for the
comforting warmth, the need to lose the pain impossible to resist, his voice
had called her back from the brink. For the first time in years, her body was
not aching from self-inflicted burns. She'd faced her demons, and she'd come
out the other side. No, this time her body burned from sexual frustration. And
damn
him,
she'd tried to pick up a guy and just have mindless sex, but it had
been useless.
How come the mere thought
of
Grisha
had her thong soaked through, yet any other
man left her as dry as the Sahara?