Author: Roni Loren
Kelsey landed the last hit and watched in fascination as her sub exploded at the precise moment she’d ordered, his body going stiff, his hips thrusting forward, and his release spilling over his fist as he fucked his hand. A man lost to himself and to the world for a few exquisite seconds. Freedom.
Beautiful.
For some ridiculous reason, she had the urge to cry. She dropped the cat to the floor and sank against the wall, sliding to a sit, exhaustion sapping her. She knew she should stay on her feet, stay in the position of power, but he couldn’t see behind him, so he’d never know. She pulled her knees to her chest, her body throbbing and aching with unmet need, but not for Hawk. She never slept with her clients. She didn’t even allow them to touch her. But seeing the intensity of another reach their sexual bliss often left her craving her own.
And tonight there was something even uglier pressing at her. Jealousy.
It wasn’t an emotion a domme should feel toward her sub. She was supposed to gain her satisfaction from his submission. And Hawk had submitted beautifully tonight. But as she watched Hawk lying there bound, breathing hard, and blissed out, she felt the ugly emotion creep up.
“Lady K?” he whispered after a few quiet minutes, snapping her from her souring state.
“Yes.” She pushed herself to her feet, turned down the music, and started unfastening the rest of his bindings. “You okay?”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “I was just wondering, how long before the marks go away?”
She frowned and ran a gentle hand along the angry red stripes on his back. “You know I wouldn’t leave you with anything long lasting, sweetheart. I’ll never betray the contract we set up at the beginning. Do you need me to stop leaving even temporary ones? There are other things I can do that won’t leave any evidence.”
“No, please don’t stop,” he said quickly. He turned his head to find her, his eyes still a little glazed and his hair flopping over his forehead. “I like seeing the marks. Sometimes . . . sometimes I jerk off again later after a session while I look at the markings in the mirror.” His face flushed at the admission. “But I’m . . . I’m going to see my girl tomorrow night.”
Kelsey sighed. “Sit up for me, Hawk.”
He followed her directions, and she handed him a towel to clean himself up and another to drape over himself.
Once he was covered and seemed to be coming back into his head, she asked, “Is this girl important to you?”
He kept his eyes down as he cleaned the evidence of what had just happened off his hand and thigh, shame obviously creeping in. Kelsey hated that, hated that he was still struggling so much with this part of himself, that the beast of guilt was such a relentless one. She wished she could just snap her fingers and take that hurt away from him. But she knew that road was going to be a long one for him.
“Yes, ma’am. I think I love her.”
She sat down on one of the chairs by the wall and braced her forearms on her fishnet-covered thighs. “Look, hon, I know you’re hoping I can beat this out of you, but that’s not how it works. You need to consider that these desires may not go away.”
His head dipped and his blond hair fell farther down his forehead, shielding his eyes.
“And I know there are people who manage to walk both sides of the line.” Like me. “But living a double life is not a fun option. Have you ever considered talking to your girlfriend about this? Feeling her out? You never know, she may be open to it.”
He snorted and shook his head. “Christina is majoring in elementary education and barely even curses. We didn’t sleep together until after we’d dated for six months. She’s sweet and innocent and . . . she’d be repulsed by me if she knew.”
“Maybe you’re not giving her enough credit,” Kelsey said gently.
He hauled himself to his feet and walked over to the hooks he’d hung his clothes on. He pulled on his boxers and jeans, then gingerly eased his Got Beer? T-shirt over his head, wincing when the material hit his back. “No disrespect, Lady K. But you don’t understand. You live in this world. I don’t. I won’t. I want a normal life with a normal girl.”
Kelsey tried to keep her expression placid, though the implication stung like little pieces of glass in her skin. I don’t want to be a freak like you. “I see.”
Hawk halted, his face falling, then he was crossing the room, getting to his knees at her feet. “I’m so sorry, Mistress. That . . . that didn’t come out right. I say stupid shit sometimes.” His expression turned earnest. “You know how thankful I am for what you do. I would never—”
“Shh,” she said, caressing his hair. He instinctively lowered his head and gave her invitation to stroke him. She knew Hawk hadn’t meant it to insult her. He was scared. And frankly, he was right. She didn’t have a normal life and never would. This week had been proof positive of that. She couldn’t even maintain an imaginary “normal” relationship without it getting fucked up. “It’s okay. And you’re right, I’m the last person who should be handing out relationship advice. I suck at them.”
Hawk lifted his head, his eyes a little wide. Probably because it was the first piece of personal information she’d ever shared with him—or any client for that matter. She was usually good at keeping the boundaries clear when not in a scene. “Is it because of this? What you do?”
She smiled. If only it were that simple. “No, hon. Not because of this.”
His lips parted as if he was going to ask more questions, but her look must’ve warned him off. He gave a little nod, bent all the way to the floor to kiss the top of her boot, then rose to his feet. “Thank you for tonight, Mistress.”
“My pleasure, Hawk.”
He gave her a shy smile, then before walking out the door he pulled something from his pocket and set it on the table by the door. Money.
A tip.
Even after all that happened this week, the simple gesture gutted her, cut right through her, letting everything spill out. She’d tried to have a real conversation with someone, and he’d paid her for it.
She didn’t know what was more depressing—the blatant reminder that she was only a hired hand or the fact that she couldn’t afford to turn down the cash. She leaned her head against the wall and tapped lightly.
But she wasn’t left alone in her ruminating for long. The door squeaked open a few seconds later and Marc, one of the managers, poked his head in. “Hey, Kelsey. Grant said to send you up when you were done with your session. He set aside a few minutes to talk to you.”
She blew out a breath and nodded. She’d made a request earlier to talk to her boss, but she hadn’t expected him to free up time so quickly. She wasn’t exactly looking forward to the conversation, but hopefully, this would solve her immediate problem. “Thanks. I’ll be right up.”
Kelsey sat in the cozy waiting area outside the office of Grant Waters, owner and operator of The Ranch, and tried to keep her nerves in check. She’d worked part time at the BDSM resort for the last six months and had experienced nothing but great interactions with Grant, but she still couldn’t stop her knee from bumping up and down. The man was downright intimidating, and she knew what she was about to ask was outside the rules.
A few minutes later, the door on the other side of the room opened and filled with the impressive outline of the tall cowboy. His girlfriend, Charli, stepped out from behind him, a little flushed-faced and sending an apologetic smile in Kelsey’s direction before turning back to Grant. She pushed up on her toes and gave him a quick kiss. “We’ll finish this . . . discussion later?”
“Count on it, freckles,” he said, tugging one of her red locks, his adoration for Charli like rays of warmth beaming off him. “Meet me in the barn when you get home from work.”
“You got it, cowboy.” A visible shudder went through Charli, giving Kelsey a good idea of what the barn would entail. Grant wasn’t considered the Master of The Ranch for nothing. He hadn’t played publicly since he’d gotten together with Charli, but Kelsey had heard stories of how intense of a dominant Grant could be.
And though she had a fair dose of jealousy over the couple in love, Kelsey couldn’t help but smile for them. She’d met Charli when Charli had first come to The Ranch and had liked her instantly. And she knew both Charli and Grant had gone through a lot to get to this point.
When Charli turned around, she headed Kelsey’s way and gave her a quick hug. “Hey, gorgeous, haven’t seen you around in a while. We should grab dinner soon.”
Kelsey returned the hug, standing up in the process. “Definitely. Give me a call.”
Charli gave her one last pat on the arm and headed out, leaving Kelsey with Grant. That alone was a testament to how strong of a relationship the two had. How many women would leave their guy alone with a chick in thigh-high boots and a corset?
Grant nodded in Kelsey’s direction. “Come on in, Kelsey. Marc said you wanted to chat.”
“Yes, sir.” She followed Grant into his office, the warm woods and stone of the room matching the rustic feel of the rest of the resort, and sat in the chair across from his desk. “I had a few questions about my position.”
He settled in his large chair and adjusted the blinds behind him so that there wouldn’t be a glare on her face. “Sure. Shoot.”
She clasped her hands in her lap, trying to keep herself from fidgeting. “Some things have come up in town again, and I think the only way out of them is going to be to move away for a while.”
His dark eyebrows lifted. “What kind of trouble, Kelsey? If you’re struggling with your sobriety, there are things . . .”
“Oh, no, nothing like that,” she said, her words rushing out. “This is old trouble that won’t seem to go away. I think I just need to cut my losses and start over somewhere else. But I need to have more of a nest egg to do that. I thought maybe I could start taking on a few trainees to earn some extra money.”
Grant frowned and leaned back in his chair, considering her in a way that made her want to bow her head. “The requirements for my trainers are very clear. Both sides of training are required. And you haven’t done the submissive part yet. Believe me, I understand why you haven’t been able to do that portion. After what happened to you last year, I can only imagine how frightening that could be. I wouldn’t want anything to trigger those memories for you. But it wouldn’t be fair or safe to make an exception. I need my trainers to understand and experience both sides firsthand.”
“Right.” She looked down at her hands, not surprised by the answer but disappointed. She’d tried to do the thirty-day submissive immersion twice now because being a trainer was more lucrative than being a part-time domme like she was now. But each time the day to start had gotten close, she’d cancelled at the last moment. And she hated that. Hated that her attacker still held any power over her at all. Davis hadn’t been a dominant, he’d been a sociopath and rapist who’d held her against her will, beat her mercilessly, and tortured her for the three days he’d had her. She obviously knew that wasn’t what submission entailed. Yet, she still hadn’t been able to take that step with anyone.
Grant sighed and leaned forward, setting his chin on his clasped hands. “Kelsey, can I be honest with you?”
“Yes, sir,” she said quietly.
“I hired you because you’d been through a lot, and I wanted to give you an opportunity to get on your feet. And I think discovering your domme side has helped you gain confidence that the men in your past had stolen from you. You’ve blossomed these last few months.”
Warmth gathered in her chest at the compliment. “Thank you.”
