For the Sub (7 page)

“No, Sir.” Her voice had changed. Mirth had vanished, as if she had sudden clarity of the grievousness of her behaviour.

Niles delivered half a dozen blistering strokes, continuing until she gasped. He knew she wouldn’t cry or beg him to stop, and he heard her drag in some big gulps of air to help her settle into her spanking. Her tits bounced free, keeping him aroused. Damn, what she did to him…

Before she could get comfortable, he stopped then jostled her from his legs while grabbing her around the waist to help her to her feet. “Stand there,” he instructed.

As he expected, she followed orders, contrite, eyes downcast, arms behind her back. The position pushed out her breasts, as if in offering. She made no attempt to rub her buttocks or right her clothing even though the tights had to be constricting her circulation.

For a full minute, he sat and observed her. How the hell had she started to matter to him so quickly? He’d had no intention of doing anything other than hanging out this evening as an invited guest.

But sparks were inevitable. She was like flame to his kindling. He’d had no idea how much he’d missed having a subbie around, the rightness, the interaction. They each needed what the offer offered. “Well?” he asked when he’d given her time to think.

“Thank you for the spanking. That should teach me to hold my tongue and not laugh when you initiate a punishment, shouldn’t it, Sir?”

“Will it?” Niles stood and caught her chin. Without him having to instruct her, she met his gaze.

“Yes. I’d much rather have an erotic spanking,” she admitted.

“I’m happy to indulge your taste for that.”

“I misjudged the situation, Sir. On second thought, I realise that what I said could be considered rude, and that was never my intent. I apologise, Master Niles.”

“Apology accepted. You may straighten your clothes.” He watched as she wriggled and tugged on her tights then smoothed the back of her skirt into place.

He handed the sweater to her. “Do you have any objection to going braless?”

“My breasts are a bit on the large size, Sir, so I almost always have one on unless I’m at the Den. But if it’s your pleasure, Sir, I’m happy to do as you wish.”

“Then skip it. I want to see your nipples all night and imagine them in my mouth, in my clamps.”

“Yes, Sir.” She pulled the sweater over her head.

He untucked her hair from her collar. “How does your ass feel?”

“Sore. You’ve made your point. I will be more respectful.”

“Are you ready for that glass of wine?” He splashed a small amount into one glass. After swirling the rich, red liquid around the bottom of the glass, inhaling the scent then sipping to confirm its taste on his palate, he poured them each a glass.

“It’s more full-bodied than I anticipated,” she said, making a funny little sound with her mouth.

“I like more than my wine that way.”

For a moment, they were both silent. “Lucky for me. Shall I give a quick tour of the place? There’s not much to see.”

Before leading the way to the large living room, she snatched up the discarded bra. “I think this was a combination dining room and living room, but a wall was knocked down between them. Since I have an eat-in kitchen, I prefer to keep this as a great room, of sorts.”

A large television was mounted on a wall, and she’d turned on the gas fireplace. In addition to the overstuffed couch, she’d set up a number of chairs and trays.

“What’s in the aquarium?”

“Lizards. Zig and Zag. They’re leopard geckos.”

“Let me guess, someone else named them.”

“Umm, no. That bit of creative genius was mine,” she said, and blushed in a way he found endearing.

“I’m sure it suits them.”

“Sir is being kind.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I am. Trying to be a good guest.”

Brandy laughed before leading the way to her office. She propped a shoulder against the doorjamb and took a sip of her wine. This room surprised him. Her work space was uncluttered. A notebook computer sat on a glass desk. A couple of manila file folders were scattered near it, but other than a cup containing pens and pencils, nothing else adorned the surface. Her chair faced a window that had a soothing view of pine trees and distant mountains. “This is why you live up here.”

“It is,” she agreed. “I see deer and elk most times of the year. I could make more money other places”—she took another sip—“but I wouldn’t have this kind of view. It’s funny. I used to complain about the snow and icy roads when I lived in Denver. Even though the weather is harsher up here, I enjoy it now. It’s peaceful.”

The handwriting on the tab of a file folder caught his eye. DNM.com. His company. “What’s this?”

“Something you weren’t supposed to see yet,” she said.

Her cheeks were so red they almost matched the colour of her wine. “Mind if I have a look?” he asked.

“Not at all.”

While he flipped open the cover, she paced.

He found copies of each page of his website. Next he found pieces of paper with hand-drawn designs on them. The basic message was the same, but the look was more modern, fresh. Even his logo had been tweaked.

“Call me nosy. I was curious about you,” she said, stopping next to the window, close enough that they could look at each other, but not close enough for him to touch her. “So I looked you up online.”

He would have expected that. “Prudent in this day and age.”

“No arrest records that I could find.”

“Buried deep,” he teased. “Records sealed.”

“I’m good enough that I would have found something,” she responded with appealing confidence. “I was impressed. You’re involved with a number of different businesses.”

“And some other things that could be added, or maybe a new one created.”

“Your website doesn’t appear to have been updated in the past few years. Your copyright is out of date and your SEO could use some fine tuning. You’ve got a few broken links. And I’m boring you.”

“Not at all.” In fact, the animation in her tone was infectious.

“I was going to give you some ideas to take to your web people. Sorry if I overstepped any bounds. Occupational hazard.”

“Once you finish, I’ll be interested in taking a look.” He put down the folder, impressed by her resourcefulness and fresh eye. More and more, this woman appealed to him.

As he turned to leave the room, he noticed the wall behind her was decorated with pictures of dogs and cats. One had a photo of her with an older gentleman. They stood with their backs to a mountain, and they were each holding a trout. “Your father?”

She nodded. “Two summers ago near Shadow Mountain Lake.”

“There’s a strong resemblance.”

“Especially the nose,” she said, wrinkling hers.

“Nothing wrong with your nose.”

“I’m delighted that you’re blinded by lust, Sir.”

He smacked her ass when she walked past him.

She yelped.

“One of my favourite sounds,” he said.

Brandy continued the tour. “There’s only one bathroom. But since it’s just me, I manage fine.”

It, too, fit the cottage theme with blue wainscoting and a claw-foot tub. A showerhead stuck out from the wall at a height designed for Brandy, rather than a man. “That’s deep enough for two people.”

“Is that a suggestion?”

“It could be.”

A stackable washer and dryer stood in the far corner. Though small, the house had all the necessities.

“The other room is mine,” she said.

And the door was closed. “Do you mind me seeing it?”

“I’m sure it’s not your style.” She shrugged. “But you probably intend to see it at some point.”

“Only with your permission. But yes, I want to be in your bedroom.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” She opened the door. “This, really, is why I bought this house.”

“I would have, too.” While the room wasn’t large, its French doors made up for it. They opened onto a concrete patio that had a clay chimenea, two chairs and a small table. “You can watch the sunrise and have a cup of coffee?”

“I do, almost every day. In the summer, it can be hard to come back inside.”

Her bed had at least nine pillows. Several were purple. The comforter was white. A white chaise longue sat at an angle perpendicular to the wall. A reading lamp drooped over the area, and a small table was next to it, a couple of books and an electronic reader stacked on the top. A fluffy pink throw was ultra-feminine, but fitting. A vase filled with wildflowers stood on top of a high dresser. The queen-size bed had a wooden headboard with lots of potential. “What’s not to like about this room?”

“Some men find it threatens their masculinity.”

“Some men?” he repeated, a sudden possessive urge stabbing at him.

“My dad and brother,” she clarified right away. With a steady gaze, she met his eyes and added, “I don’t have a lot of men in my bedroom, Sir, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Good answer.
He knew she was well within her rights to tell him to mind his own business or refuse to give him information. He appreciated that she hadn’t made either of those choices. “Any man who is concerned by your décor hasn’t thought about fucking you over the back of that chaise or tying your hair to the headboard.”

She rolled the wine glass between her palms. “Is that what you’re thinking?”

“That and propping those pillows beneath your stomach so that I can get your ass high enough to stuff my cock in it.”

She stopped rolling the glass. “In that case, I won’t change a single thing, Sir.”

“The image will be that much hotter with my handprints already on your butt cheeks.”

“All of a sudden, I’m thinking of cancelling the party.”

“That’s two of us.”

She dropped her bra in a dresser drawer and closed it before he could get a proper look at all her lingerie.

“For later, Sir,” she promised.

He followed her back to the kitchen and topped off her glass. He hadn’t taken a sip from his. “How will you be introducing me tonight?”

“As Niles, an acquaintance I’ve known for a long time. I saw you at the grocery store and invited you.”

“You took pity on a starving man,” he added. “I’m another one of your strays.”

She swept her gaze up his sexy body. “Do you think anyone will believe you’re a stray?”

Outside, he heard a vehicle. So, too, did the dogs. Niles was almost ploughed over as they dashed towards the door.

“Party time,” she said. She put down her glass and rubbed her ass. “Good thing I have on comfortable shoes, since I won’t be able to sit down tonight.”

“Perfect.”

She flashed him a quick scowl before calling back the dogs and opening the door for the first of her visitors.

Over the next twenty minutes, at least a dozen people arrived, and no one asked about his relationship with Brandy. Though they seemed to all know one another, they included him in conversations and jokes. Beer flowed freely, and snacks of crudités and nuts vanished. A tall, thin woman stood near a table and tossed a candy-coated chocolate in her mouth every thirty seconds. Her coordination and timing were impressive.

The noise level steadily increased. Some guests moved into the living room, braver ones went outside with the beer and soft drinks, but most stayed in the kitchen.

He enjoyed watching her interact, moving from conversation to conversation with ease, calling out answers to questions from across the room, and opening beer bottles for others without being asked. She even glanced his direction a few times to make sure he was holding his own. Here or at the Den, Brandy was the perfect hostess. “It appears I should get the grill going,” he said when she poured more candy into the dish.

“Good plan. Do you want matches or flamethrower, Sir?”

“Flamethrower,” he said.

“Of course, Sir. It’s in there.” She pointed towards a drawer then grabbed the hamburgers from the refrigerator. “The cooking utensils and seasonings are already outside.”

“You did a lot of preparation ahead of time.”

“I wanted to have some free time in case you arrived early.”

“I’m glad you did.” Since there were other people around, he didn’t continue the conversation. He cracked his knuckles then grabbed the long, thin lighter. “Show me the way.”

He followed her through the carport and into the backyard.

The evening air was brisk. With the shorter days, it wouldn’t be long before dusk descended.

She had set up a small table next to the grill, and she put the platter on top of it.

“Looks as if you thought of everything,” he said, eyeing the extra plates, assorted spices and a long-handled spatula.

Brandy folded her arms across her chest as he lit the grill.

“What? Didn’t think I was capable?” he asked.

“I just wanted to watch you work.”

“Your nipples are hard.”

“It’s not just from the cold,” she assured him.

“Anticipation?”

“And from remembering the night at the Den.”

“I suppose we can’t send everyone home until after we feed them?”

“No, Sir, we can’t. But I’ll be looking forward to the end of the evening.” She excused herself, saying she needed to set out the garnishes and sliced cheese.

He watched her go. Within a few minutes, he started cooking the first burgers. It wasn’t long before one of her male friends joined him.

“Need a hand?”

“John, isn’t it?” Niles asked the tall, lanky man.

The man nodded and offered a beer.

“You’re a friend for life,” Niles said by way of thanks as he accepted the bottle of microbrew.

“So how did you meet Brandy?”

Niles answered with a question of his own, “Who are you to her?”

“Husband of her best friend.” He shrugged.

“You drew the short straw? You had to be the one to check me out, see who I am, what my intentions are.”

“Margot is curious. Brandy hasn’t brought anyone to a party in a couple of years. And since she didn’t say anything in advance, Margot’s freaking out a bit. Those two share everything.”

“I’m not a serial killer.” Niles took a drink of the beer.

“So what do you do for a living?”

Niles looked at the man. He wondered if John had watched any of his videos, but then, what would it say about the man if he came right out and asked? Though he had a few businesses, Niles decided to find out how much John knew. “I own a video production company.”