Play With Me (Pleasure Playground) (2 page)

At her desk, she swiveled toward the computer and hit the button to bring up her e-mail, but her mind drifted back to the studio and the scene still going on. She never got to see the full details on most of the hard-core orders because Chase held them strictly confidential, but after what little she’d witnessed, her imagination had gone into overdrive. How far would they go? Did a custom order include fucking? The image of Murphy sliding his thick cock into Jennifer filled Eve’s mind, and a groan slid from her mouth, which she quickly smothered with her hand.

Get it together before you find yourself in more trouble than you can handle.

Eve’s e-mail popped up, and she took the distraction for what it was and scrolled through some of the junk to delete what she didn’t need. The rest she filed to look at later when her brain wasn’t mush. A new e-mail from the Web site popped open, and the subject line read:

Urgent Custom Order

No doubt from the caller who’d hung up on her a mere five minutes ago.

Curious, she clicked it open to find out more. As she expected, the order stated it came from a Mr. Smith. It wasn’t uncommon for some of Chase’s clients not to divulge their names on their paperwork. In those instances, he would take their private information directly. She scrolled through the particulars such as time of delivery, type of film, settings, and on down to the model information.

Model must be redheaded and of a plus-size nature with full breasts.

Eve nearly choked on her sip of coffee. In all the orders she’d taken, no one had ever asked for a plus-size model. Whoever the mystery customer was, she already liked him. A larger woman would be a refreshing change around here. She clicked to forward the message to Chase and went back to the rest of her e-mails. If she focused on her work, maybe she’d be able to get her mind off the scene she’d spied on at least long enough to get through the rest of the day.

When she got home, all bets were off, and her vibrator would get the workout of its life. A wicked smile tugged at her lips. She desperately wanted to know more about Chase and Murphy’s private lives. Sure she knew a lot about their fetishes, but how deep into the BDSM scene did they go? Her pathetic and limited experience left her a little green, but mostly because she found it difficult to define her own needs, let alone find a Dom to click with.

So much of the local scene seemed to revolve around playing roles. Master and slave. Simply thinking the words made her muscles clench with excitement. Maybe one day she’d figure it out…understand how to be what a master sought.

“Eve.”

She jumped at the sound of her name spoken in an attention getting tone. So lost in her thoughts she’d not heard Chase approach her desk. Her breath quickened and her pulse sped up from the one simple word. She lifted her lashes and looked at him through hooded eyes she prayed didn’t look guilty. Because right now she felt like a naughty girl who’d just been busted. Thank God she’d refrained from touching herself again.

“This new order. Did you talk to them when they called?”

She nodded, too nervous to speak out loud yet. Mesmerized by the shade of green reflected in his gaze. In his case, eyes weren’t windows to the soul. They were the microscope that saw into her thoughts. As if somehow he’d noticed her spying on him, or that the moment he said her name, renewed arousal dampened her panties, and he damned well knew it.

“Did they say who this was for?”

“No, but I did get the impression it was for someone pretty important. The woman was quite confident that you’d be willing to fill this order as quickly as they wanted.” She tried not to fidget, but it was impossible to sit still with him looking at her with such intensity.

“That’s too bad because as intriguing as this shoot would be, I’m going to have to turn this one down.”

Damn. Even the tight frown of his lips turned her on. She’d give anything to trace the shape of his mouth, to explore every line.

“Why?”

“No model that fits the requirements. It’s often hard enough to find a redhead for a hard-core shoot. But a plus-size model? No way. Not on this short of notice.”

“What about me? I could do it.” Eve clamped her hand over her mouth, shocked she’d blurted the offer out loud. Still, she’d made the offer, and she held her breath waiting for his response.

His eyes narrowed and he stared into her gaze. Searching for something maybe. Her neck warmed with the humiliation that crept through her.

“Come here,” he demanded gruffly.

Worried, she moved from behind the reception desk and stood in front of him. Not squirming while he looked at her from head to toe proved impossible as she shifted from one foot to the other. He went back to staring into her eyes and she found it nerve-racking to hold his gaze. Too scared to keep up the pretense, she shifted her gaze to the floor and the black patent four-inch spike heels she had on. The skirts and blouses she wore every day might shout boring, but her shoes were 100-percent hooker.

She’d learned to wear clothes that didn’t draw attention to her curves, only her cleavage, and she used her hair and shoes to further distract. Still, standing in front of Chase with the aid of extra height still left her feeling small. The top of her head might reach his chin. She’d guess he stood at least six feet three, if not taller. He simply dwarfed her. And for the first time in her life, she loved being short. It seemed to add to the sense of power he had over her.

“No.” The blunt word shocked her. She stood speechless and rooted to her spot while he turned and walked back to his studio. No explanation, no further discussion, just no.

Just like that he'd found her not good enough? She fought the tears that threatened to fall as his abrupt rejection filtered through her thoughts. Eve looked at the front door and back at the studio Chase had disappeared into. She’d made the biggest fool of herself with no rock to crawl under. All of her fantasies about Chase came crashing down on her. Along with the hope she'd harbored that one day he would not only notice her, but desire her. All sucked dry by one tiny little word.

She wasn’t good enough for Chase Miller. How could she have been so pathetic? The first tear splashed on her cheek and she ran for the exit.

Chase sat heavily in his desk chair and scrubbed his face with his hands. Dear God save him. The woman he’d allowed Murphy to hire for reception pushed every single button he possessed. From the first minute he’d laid eyes on her, he wanted her gone. So much so she’d become his obsession. A fact getting harder and harder to hide.

He thought of her day and night. Startling blue eyes that watched him with unadulterated lust every time he walked in the room. Gorgeous red hair down to her ass and what an ass it was. He itched to bend her over his bench and spank it until that perfect bottom was as red as her hair.

But it was her skin that mesmerized him. Pale and covered in freckles. Chase wanted to play connect the dots with his tongue and discover if every inch of her was covered by the sexy little spots. His imagination got the best of him when he thought endlessly of striping her ass and legs after he’d tied her up, of course.

There were various scenarios of predicament bondage he’d dreamed up for her. The kind of scene where the slightest movement became impossible and likely painful. The inner sadist in him smiled. She’d look sexy as hell tied in his ropes with Murphy on one side and him on the other. His cock twitched at the thought.

The photo shoot had obviously wound him up and Eve’s offer was enough to make him forget her innocence. He’d spotted her submissive needs on day one, but no way in hell did she have the kind of knowledge and experience he needed in a girl. Oh but the temptation unnerved him. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have the patience to teach her. He could guide her through her submission and into the role as his personal submissive.

The door opened roughly and Murphy strode in. “What the hell happened with Eve?”

“What do you mean?”

“She just ran out of the office and I could have sworn I saw tears.” He dropped onto the couch across the room and turned that suspicious gaze his way.

“I told you she was going to be trouble."

"That doesn't sound good," Murphy said.

He shook his head. "It's not. She volunteered for the latest Smith commission.” Chase picked up the form he’d printed and handed it over to Murphy. A minute later a long, low whistle sounded from his friend.

“Damn. She'd be perfect.”

“Yeah, exactly. Wait. What? Perfect. Are you crazy?” Chase leaned his chair to a near-reclining position and brushed the hair from his face. He was about three weeks past due for a haircut and it wouldn’t stay out of his eyes. From there he rubbed his temples and hoped he could get the idea of Eve as his submissive out of his brain.

“Did she have any idea what she was asking for?”

“Probably not. She’s asked a lot of questions since she arrived and we’ve both been completely honest with the extent of what we do here, but I doubt our little submissive wannabe has any real clue of what she’d be getting herself into.”

“Not to mention you’ve got the worst hard-on for her.”

Chase looked sharply at his friend. “Fuck you, man. I’ve seen you staring at her rack every chance you get. You’re lucky she hasn’t called sexual harassment on your ass.”

“Me? Please. I’m not the one on the verge of biting her head off because you want in her pants so bad you can’t think straight half the time.” Murphy pulled himself from the couch and paced the length of the room. “I say we give her a chance. Show her the contract. If that doesn’t scare her off, then maybe you’re wrong about her.”

“Easy for you to say. You just fucked your brains out.”

“You know I can’t resist a woman who begs. And she’d have been happy to service you as well. Jennifer is a sweet little professional subbie.”

Chase tried to shake the images his camera captured today. A photographer was the ultimate voyeur and while he knew how to maintain control, this long dry spell he’d put himself through had begun to take its toll. It was time to head to Purgatory Club and begin a new search. Someone there would surely make him stop thinking about a certain bewitching little receptionist who dared him to take her with a guileless look.

“You can’t resist any subbie. You’re such a fucking horndog.”

“Yeah, and since when is that a bad thing? You’re either getting uptight in your old age or it’s time for you to examine why this woman is under your skin.”

"Old my ass." He didn't comment on the other half of his statement. Chase hated it when his friend was right. “Was she really crying when she left?” He loved to see a woman in tears, but not from his rejection. He’d rather see her writhing in his restraints, alternating between crying her eyes out and begging him to fuck her. His half-hard dick swelled more.

“Yeah, I was ready to run after her until you told me the deal. Since I’m not the one who rejected her, I think she needs to hear it from you.”

Professionally he should stay the hell away from her. Personally he couldn’t let her go. Not without talking to her.

With any luck, he’d explain what would be required of her and she’d run for the hills. There were reasons he didn’t do hard-core shoots with amateurs. They were strenuous and fraught with high emotional impact. Not everyone could handle it.

“Chase, stop thinking about it and just talk to her. Not everything in this lifestyle has to fit your rigid standards. Sometimes you have to let nature take its course.”

“Don’t give me—”

“Just fucking talk to her.”

* * *

Chase stared at the rundown apartment building in front of him and compared it to the address he’d hastily written on his notepad. The fact they matched stunned him. Why the hell did Eve live in a place like this? He pressed the lock button on his car remote and approached the building cautiously. The neighborhood didn’t seem safe, much less the structure she lived in.

According to the address she provided she lived on the second floor. Chase opened the door and was immediately assaulted by a horrid smell. A mixture of pine cleaner and old. At least someone had given a halfhearted attempt to mask the fact this place threatened to crumble at any moment.

He gave a sideways glance to the elevator and decided against it. The stairs had to be a better choice. The open-to-the-outside stairwell did improve his opinion marginally as he took two steps at a time. In fact when he reached the landing he could have sworn he’d walked into a different building altogether. This floor looked at least like it had been renovated in this century. But the rest of the building...fuck.

Eve’s door was the first on the right and he gave it a hard knock. He had half a mind to drag her out of here and find somewhere safe for her to live. Like his condo. The crazy thought formed before he had a chance to stop it. No way. Talk about your bad ideas with a capital Fucked-Up.

He heard noises from behind the door and waited as patiently as possible for her to open it.

“Chase, what do you want?” Her muffled question sounded through the door.
Guess the peephole works.

“I’d like a few minutes of your time.”

“No.”

Her quick and abrupt answer brought a smile to his face. Turnabout was certainly fair play with this one. Okay, he'd play along for now. She deserved that much. “C’mon, Eve, give me a chance to explain. I am still your employer after all.”