The Drake Restrained Compete Collection: Part 1 - 4 (The Drake Series Book 7) (13 page)

"Why is she special?"

"She's a new acquaintance with connections I want to cultivate. Can you do me a big favor and help her? Use those famed teaching skills of yours?"

I frowned, not really sure I wanted to be interviewed.

"She's not a sub?"

"I suspect she is," Lara said. "But she hasn’t admitted it to herself yet. Had a boyfriend who wanted to try things out and she freaked and ended the relationship. Now she can’t stop thinking about it. Don't tell her I told you that, though," Lara said and held up her hand. "I suspect this is more than just research. She's really conflicted and wants to remain totally anonymous."

"So do I," I said, considering the offer. "For obvious reasons."

“You know, one of these days you’re going to have to settle down and find a permanent partner. Have a real relationship.”

I frowned. Maybe down the road in my forties, I
would
settle down, but I was happy with the way things were. I worked more than sixty hours a week and barely had time for the band and fitness let alone a relationship. Since my divorce five years ago, my submissives had provided me with all the sex I needed, I enjoyed the bondage and dominance and the fact that they went away after our sessions and left me alone until the next meeting.

"So you'll meet with her?" Lara said, regarding me while I ate.

I shrugged and finished my sandwich, a bit apprehensive about the whole thing.

“Come on Drake,” she said, her voice a bit impatient. “Do this favor for me.”

"Sure," I said finally. "But you owe me – big time."

We ate in silence for a moment, but of course, now I was curious about this young woman who wanted to interview me.

"What's she like?" I said, trying to sound casual.

"You'll love her," Lara said, waving her hand in dismissal. "She seems really sweet."

"I'm not supposed to
love
her. I'm supposed to teach her," I said, correcting her.

"You'll
teach
her, then," Lara said and rolled her eyes. "She's pretty, and smart and despite her cover story, I think she's interested in this for real, but she's afraid, Drake. There are reasons she wants to remain anonymous, having to do with her background and family. Still, you might want to seduce her a bit. I have a feeling with a bit of your magic, she'd be signing the dotted line for real."

"I love a challenge," I said and smiled. "I love a reluctant sub who needs a lot of coaxing. You know me."

"I
do
know you, Drake and that’s precisely why I asked you. Here's the contract she would sign, if this was for real." Lara reached into her briefcase and passed a document to me. I took it and reviewed the pages. It was pretty vanilla, with only a few references to bondage, hair pulling and maybe some light spanking.

I still didn't completely comprehend the need I had to be dominant, the need of these women who wanted me to be in control of them or where it came from, although I had a lot of theories. Frankly, I'd been too busy for the last few years to try to understand it. I was simply turned on by having a woman completely under my control. Helpless. Breathlessly waiting, dying for me to fuck her.

I liked the trust they placed in me, allowing me to tie them up so they were completely helpless and under my power. When they were restrained, when the last cuff was attached and they were bound and blindfolded, there was a moment of pure release as they went into subspace. Then, the submissive was open to anything, highly responsive, primed for pleasure.

I liked to train them so that they came really fast, multiple times, sometimes with just a few words, a few touches, a few licks, a few strokes, most of the buildup mental rather than physical.

Most men spent far too little time attending to their lover's mental state, so focused on the physical aspects of sex, of dicks and pussies, tits and ass, but I found that the mental preparation was the most important part of a sexual relationship. The small touches, meaningful words, the glances, the longing, the buildup, the rising desire. The actual physical act of fucking was the smallest part of it. The denouement. If you spent enough time working a woman up without even touching her, sex would be explosive.

"Let me guess – she read those books, right?"

"Who hasn't?" Lara said, laughing. "Don't complain. It's bringing in a whole new generation of material for us, although most of them don't really understand BDSM or even why the book turned them on so much."

"They like dominant men," I said. "I aim to please."

"Did you read them, too?"

"Are you kidding?" I said and grinned. "Of course I did. No self-respecting Dom would have missed seeing how our species was portrayed."

"You're the real-deal, Drake," Lara says, sipping her espresso. "Eligible bachelor, rich, good looking, smooth, smart. All the Dom without the pain."

"And without being fucked up."

She smiled at me. "If you say so."

I frowned, a bit ticked at her innuendo. "I'm
not
fucked up. I had a good upbringing."

"Whatever you say, Drake," Lara said and smiled even wider. "Have you ever thought about why you like to tie women up and torture them using pleasure? Oh, that's right… you gave up on psychoanalysis so you could study brains."

"I'm just a Dominant. I need control."

She smiled like the cat who swallowed the canary.

I gave her a look. "In the end, it doesn't really matter why something turns you on," I said. "Understanding the reasons for lust does nothing to change it.”

“It does matter, Drake. You can deny it all you want, but as you know from studying psychoanalysis, the more you keep something hidden, the more you ignore it, the farther down in the darkness you shove it, the more power it has over you. Bring it out into the light and it loses that power. Why can’t you let another woman into your life? Why can’t you trust again?”

I shook my head, not wanting to have this discussion. There was no understanding the human psyche – at least not on a scientific level. I gave that up years ago when I switched from psychology to medicine in my senior year.

“It makes no difference why. It just is.”

“Restraining women – why that in particular?”

“Lara…” I said, frowning at her. “Why do you like to beat a sub’s ass black and blue?”

“Because it’s so pretty like that. We’re not talking about me, Drake. And I could tell you why – because I like to be in control and I enjoy the power I have over men. I like to see them cower at my feet.”

“I like to have control over a woman’s body so I can do what I want.”

“You don’t need to tie a woman up. Many women would let you do whatever you wanted, no ropes or restraints needed. There’s something else going on.”

“It’s not me who needs it,” I said. “It’s them. They need to be tied up so they don’t feel any guilt. I do it so I can enjoy when they surrender. When they do, they can freely enjoy everything I do to them without guilt. They can’t stop it. It’s not their fault they have orgasms.”

“Why not have vanilla sex, with no bondage. I mean, if you don’t need to tie women up for any personal reasons, you could give it up tomorrow, right?”

“I like rope bondage. I like leather.”

“For purely aesthetic reasons? Or is it something deeper?”

“What are you trying to imply?”

“Abandonment issues?” she said and swirled her espresso in the tiny cup. “Mommy left you and so you restrain women to keep them from leaving?”

I pushed back from the table. “That’s far too simplistic. I have no interest in fucking my mother, Lara. I like the way a woman looks when she’s bound and blindfolded. That’s all.”

“It’s a fetish, Drake. It has a history and an origin. If you don’t understand it, it will have control over you instead of the other way around.”

"I like a bit of mystery,” I said. “I don’t need to know why someone likes to dominate or be dominated. I only want to know how much they need."

"I like knowing why," Lara said. "It makes things clearer."

We sat and stared at each other in silence for a few moments, neither one of us willing to concede any ground.

Back in college when I first studied abnormal psych, I was the rebellious son who was determined not to follow in my surgeon-father's footsteps. I decided to become a psychoanalyst or psychotherapist, making my name by answering Freud's famous question
What do women want?
After an undergraduate degree in abnormal psychology, and several unsuccessful relationships of the sexual and romantic kind, I decided to give up psychology and take the easy way out.

Brain surgery.

The inner workings of the psyche were far more unfathomable than that of the brain.

We finished our lunch, silently agreeing to disagree about the whole etiology of desire debate, catching up with each other's careers, and finally, I stole a glance at my cell and saw that it was time to go back to the hospital.

"I have to run," I said. "I have a surgery in half an hour and need to prep."

Lara was done as well and finished her espresso.

"So, I can tell this girl you'll do the interview?"

"Sure." I stood, finishing the last of the coffee in my cup. "You set up a meeting." I reached into my pocket and left a couple of dollars as a tip for the waitress. "Call me and I can slip out between surgeries. I usually have an hour off at three."

"Thanks," Lara said and smiled at me. "You won't regret it. She's really smart and will likely have some good questions. I sent her a link to your website so she could read your letters. That's probably get her so worked up, you'll have no problem getting her to sign on the dotted line. You'll probably really enjoy it."

She stood and I walked out of the café with her, my arm at the small of her back. We stopped outside on the street and she eyed me up and down as if assessing me.

"I think she'd probably be right up your alley. You might end up with a new sub after all if you put in the effort, so try to seduce her a bit. "

"Try to stop me," I said and grinned. I leaned in to kiss her cheek and we parted ways.

Lara called to set up a meeting with the young woman who wanted to interview me about the lifestyle, but even the prospect of seducing someone new didn’t fill me with the usual excitement. In the middle of the afternoon, after I had finished my first surgery after lunch, I pulled my lab coat over my scrubs and left NYP to make the short walk to the café where Lara and I met.

I entered the café and saw Lara immediately – she was hard to miss, with her platinum blonde hair and expensive tailored business suit. I started towards the table, curious about the young woman, whose back I saw through the window, when I realized who she was.

Katherine
.

Katherine McDermott. The woman I’d been fantasizing about despite my best attempts to block her memory from my mind. I saw her face full-on when she turned to the door where I stood and I was struck once more by how pretty she was. She wore a creamy sweater that made her breasts look even more enticing – if that was even possible. Her hair was down and silky, falling around her shoulders, her features petite and pretty.

I stopped up short, frowning when I saw her with Lara, wondering if I had somehow got it wrong. I glanced around the deserted café as if in confusion, thinking that perhaps Lara knew Katherine and was meeting with her for coffee and that I had the date wrong.

Lara stood and waved me over to the table.

"You’re
late
," Lara said, air kissing my cheeks when I arrived as if she'd been expecting me.

Then it became obvious why Katherine was there, and the truth registered as a shock of adrenaline surging through my body.

Katherine
was the researcher.

She
was the young woman who wanted to interview me. To interview a Dom because, as Lara said, she was curious, but was too afraid to do it for real.

The young woman Lara thought I could love…

"Oh,
God
," Katherine said, glancing away for a moment, her face blanching. I stood there like a total zombie, confusion and elation battling inside of me for ascendance. I didn’t know whether to laugh out loud with glee or act apologetic, still not entirely certain that I was right.

"I have to go." Katherine pulled on her coat, gathered up her bag and put on a pair of sunglasses. She walked away, her body stiff.

She was horrified that it was
me
she was supposed to meet.

"Kate!" Lara called out, but Katherine was out the door and on the street hailing a taxi before Lara could get to the door.

We stood at the open door and watched as Katherine hailed down a cab.

“You know each other, I take it?” Lara said to me, her arms crossed.

“Yes,” I said, my heart pounding. I was just about to go after her, but Lara grabbed my arm and stopped me.

"Let her go," she said, her grip firm. "She's obviously freaked out. I take it there's some reason she's upset that you're the one."

"I’m very close with her father, who was my dad’s best friend. We finally met about a week ago.”

I watched as the taxi drove off. My instinct was to follow her, but I listened to Lara. I exhaled heavily and gave in. This would only end well if I handled it – and
her
– with utmost finesse.

Lara and I went back into the café and sat down once more at the table. The waitress brought me an espresso, and I shot it down, needing the buzz to calm me. Lara ordered another espresso and then we sat looking at each other.

“So,” Lara said, hesitantly. “What do you think? Are you still interested in doing the interview?

Interested
? I was fucking
ecstatic.

"I am," I said, keeping my voice calm. "I actually
like
her."

"Oh,
oh
." Lara smiled at me over her espresso. "By her reaction, she likes you as well."

It was then I realized that she
did
, despite her response. "This could get complicated."

"Only as complicated as you let it get. You're the one in control."