Authors: Miranda Baker
“Look in the mirror.”
Bonita obeyed. Her eyes were bright. Her lips were plump, and her hard nipples were visible through her demure dress.
“See? Now you look perfect,” Kat said, washing her hands.
Bonita raised an eyebrow. “Would you like to look perfect, too?”
Kat winked. “I always look perfect.”
The claim would have been outrageous if it hadn’t been true. As Bonita stared, Kat seemed to grow slightly taller. All the light in the room found her and worshipped her. Her hair curled around her proud shoulders in spectacular abandon. Every inch of her body was lean, tan and toned, which wasn’t fair because, as far as Bonita knew, she hadn’t worked out once this week—nor had they left the house.
A slow, teasing smile curved Kat’s glossy lips. “Ready for your date with a movie star?”
She nodded, slightly dazed at the transition that had taken place before her eyes. When it was just the two of them, it was easy to forget she wasn’t the only one in love with Kat. America also loved her, and Kat gloried in the admiration. Bonita ignored the sinking feeling in her chest, the one that reminded her she was leaving in two days. She wasn’t going to think about it—not tonight.
The sinking feeling intensified, dragging her down, until Kat caught her hand and tugged. Joy replaced dread as their bodies touched, curves and bones instantly aligning. Kat’s hands moved over Bonita’s back, pressing her closer, erasing every space between them. She gasped as Kat caressed the diamond collar at her throat.
“We’re going to play our game when we get home tonight.” Kat stepped back until the only connection between them was her finger stroking the diamonds at Bonita’s throat. Her mouth watered, her pussy throbbed and her breasts felt swollen to the point of pain. Her mind cleared, going blank. If Kat hadn’t hooked a gentle finger under the collar, she would have fallen to her knees.
Her legs trembled as Kat steered her out the door. “Let’s not waste the champagne.”
From the minute her driver had dropped them off at Hollywood and Highland, Kat had been going nuts. Bonita looked stunning in her dress—sexy and smooth, every hair in place, every smile correct. Her dress was elegant, but Kat knew how little Bonita was wearing beneath it. She had a delicious visual memory from the last few minutes they had spent in the bathroom, and if they had been alone, she would have made Bonita spread her legs for her again.
But they weren’t alone.
They were on national television, and in effect, they were performing, playing the role of platonic childhood friends having a girls’ night out. It was maddening.
Bonita played the Hollywood social game as if she had been born to it, polite and witty, utterly convincing in her role of ingénue. She had completely charmed everyone she met, and the admiring glances she received from men and women were pushing Kat to the edge. No way were they going to the after-party at Canter’s Deli. When she found her arm around Bonita’s waist for the third time, she knew they had to get out of here.
Fast.
She didn’t want to admit it, but Herbie was right. She couldn’t do this. Not in public.
“Let’s go.” She rose to her feet.
Bonita tugged her back down. “Nope.”
Kat frowned. “Are you having a good time?”
“I’m bored stiff, but we can’t leave in the middle.”
“Rule follower.” Kat got to her feet again. “Let’s get a drink. Excuse us,” she said to Marianna, her
Proprietors
costar, who gave her a knowing smirk and flashed Bonita a thumbs-up. Unease rippled through Kat, but it was too late to turn back. Might as well brazen it out. She’d planned to steer Bonita out the nearest exit, but maybe they should just get a drink and return to their seats. Marianna was notorious for spreading rumors.
She glanced back at Bonita, who was making nice with everyone they passed. Henry Cavill didn’t make quite enough room in the aisle, and Bonita stumbled over his foot. His appreciative expression as he steadied her made Kat wonder if he’d done it on purpose, and she stifled a growl.
Enough is enough.
They were getting out of here before she did something she might regret, like tell Cavill Bonita was taken—by her—always had been and always would be.
The idea filled her with delight, and suddenly she knew exactly how they would spend the rest of the night. An exultant laugh broke free from her throat as they burst into the lobby.
“What are you so happy about?” Bonita asked.
“It’s showtime, Beauty. We’re going home.” She texted her driver to pick them up, watching Bonita fidget out of the corner of her eye. She hid a grin. Bonita had admitted BDSM had been the last of the tools she’d used to create distance between them, but it was turning out to be a hell of a turn-on for them both. Bonita was so responsive, and Kat loved being in control.
Tonight, she was going to add a twist to their play. They’d spent plenty of time in her closet dungeon this week, reacquainting themselves with each other’s bodies and experimenting with the toys and equipment Kat had purchased. Knowing Bonita was three years ahead of her in kink made Kat eager to catch up.
Her black Mercedes SUV pulled up to the curb, and she opened the door for Bonita before the driver could get out of the truck. They settled into the backseat, side by side. She raised the privacy screen, ignored Bonita’s questioning glance and pulled up the contacts on her phone, smiling as she placed a call. It was answered on the first ring. “Yes, Ms. St. James? I suppose you want a late-night snack? There are chocolate-dipped strawberries in the refrigerator, and I stocked the cupboard with Ms. Pritchard’s favorite snacks. Would you like me to—”
“Take the weekend off, Mrs. Clarke. Use my credit card and go anywhere you want. And if there is any maintenance scheduled, cancel it. No gardeners, no pool boys, no chefs, no housekeeping, no nothing. Keep the guards, though. I don’t want to be disturbed this weekend.”
“The house will be empty by the time you get home.”
She could almost hear Clarke’s enthusiastic nod. Her housekeeper had bent over backward to make Bonita feel welcome this week, no doubt delighted by Kat’s sobriety and all-around good behavior. “Thanks, Mrs. Clarke. You’re the best.”
She ended the call and turned to Bonita. “I thought we could play a game we’ve never played before.”
Bonita nodded, green eyes curious. “Set the scene, Kitty Kat.”
“I’m a world-famous film star. Rich. Powerful. Adored by millions.”
“Of course you are.” That had been her dream, a role she’d aspired to, and they had acted out variations of this scene dozens of times when they were kids. Bonita’s lips curved. “And who am I?”
Kat held her gaze, pretending to consider while she let the dramatic tension build. When she couldn’t stand to wait a moment longer, she took Bonita’s hand and squeezed, looking deep into her eyes. “My wife.”
Cindy stared after the black Mercedes that had just carried Kat and her companion away from the theater. Any idiot could see those two were going to fuck. They could barely keep their eyes off each other, taking turns staring when they thought no one was watching, and putting out so much heat, she was surprised they hadn’t set off the fire alarm in the theater. No wonder Herb was worried.
She wasn’t worried; she was pissed. Kat didn’t deserve the help she’d given her this afternoon. Of course, she didn’t know about it, either, and it gave Cindy no end of pleasure to know the two thousand dollars Herb had given her had come out of Kat’s bank account. Kat owed her for doing her dirty work, that was for sure, but the pictures Herb had taken this afternoon weren’t going to help Kat’s image if she paraded her lesbian lover around Hollywood. Since her meal ticket was disappearing fast, it was time to put Plan B into action. Without Kat hogging the spotlight, there would be more room for her.
She slipped her cell phone out of her bag. A quick search got her the number she needed, and he answered on the first ring.
“Bob? It’s Cindy. Cindy Newton. Kat St. James’s body double? Right, that Cindy.”
The one you were flirting with at the wrap party before Kat got her claws into you.
Resentment surged through her, and she had to work to keep her voice sweet. “Listen, I have a little business proposition for you. I’m in Hollywood. Can you meet me at Magnolia? An hour? Perfect.” She ended the call and gave her claim check to the valet.
As she waited for her car, she noticed Herb standing next to a palm tree, intent on the phone in his hand. His bald spot gleamed with sweat.
“Hey, Herbie. You thinking what I’m thinking?” He continued to play with his phone. “Kat St. James is a sinking ship, Herb. Better jump.”
He finally looked up, sharp glance at odds with the fat folds of his cheeks. “I’ll leave that to the rats, kiddo.”
Little fuck. She’d show him.
Her life in Kat’s shadow was over.
Chapter Four
Kat watched Bonita’s eyes darken to jade. “My submissive wife,” she added.
“I hope you didn’t dismiss your staff so I could cook and clean for you.”
“I dismissed the staff so you could wear nothing but that diamond collar all weekend. And so we could have sex somewhere other than my goddamn closet. I’m sick of pretending.”
“Instead, you want to pretend we don’t have to pretend?” Bonita’s chuckle was wry.
“Damn straight.”
Bonita shook her head, so Kat held up her hand. “However, we’re not alone yet, and we have at least thirty minutes of LA traffic ahead of us, so let’s not start that game yet. Let’s play an oldie but goody—our sleepover game.”
Color crept into Bonita’s pale cheeks. “It was hard enough to sit next to you in the theater and pretend we were only friends. Now you want to torture me?”
“I do. I really do.” Heat pooled in Kat’s belly and breasts, and she rubbed her thighs together, shifting in the seat. “Breasts first.”
Bonita swallowed hard, but her hands moved toward the zipper of her dress. She shrugged her shoulders and the material fell away from her breasts, exposing them entirely. The slight curves had starred in Kat’s every fantasy. Bonita’s dark red nipples puckered, and Kat’s mouth watered. She wanted to suck them, but that would be breaking the rules. She couldn’t touch Bonita’s nipples, only the rest of her breast. Usually this game ended when one of them fell asleep, but that wasn’t going to happen tonight.
Kat reached forward, tracing one finger along the soft outside curve of Bonita’s breast. “When we get home, I’m going to put you in nipple clamps that match your collar, so enjoy your freedom.” She watched Bonita’s chest rise and fall, noting the quickness of her breath and hearing a shuddery quaver. “You are my slave. My property. You will do as I say. You exist for my amusement on this ride home, and I will use you for my entertainment. Do you consent?”
“Yes.” Bonita’s voice was low. Her green eyes were mostly black now, pupils shot wide. She was sinking already, and a sharp spear of triumph surged through Kat.
She cupped both of Bonita’s breasts in her hands and deliberately licked her lips. She bent to blow a stuttering breath across her stiff nipples, bending but not breaking the rules. “You’re my favorite slave, of course. We go everywhere together, and I’m thinking about getting rid of my harem. You know this, and you want to please me more than anything else in the world. Your new safe word is
Narnia
. Use it if you are in unbearable pain or you want everything to stop. Is that clear?”
Bonita nodded.
“Excellent. Now be still.” With one finger, she stroked Bonita’s breast, touching with featherlight strokes meant to torment and arouse.
Kat had learned a lot about pleasure over the years, and her week in Norton with Destiny and Johnny last summer had taught her about pain. It hadn’t taken much to unleash her dominant side. She’d been channeling it into her acting forever, and now that she understood more about power exchange, she both blessed and damned it. BDSM had kept Bonita satisfied for three interminable years because it was similar to the dynamic that existed between them. Now that Kat had a more explicit knowledge of power exchange, she would use it to tie Bonita to her so securely she would never want to leave.
Kat drew figure eights around Bonita’s breasts with her finger, coming closer to her nipples each time. When she stopped just shy of the tip of her left breast, Bonita held her breath.
“Keep breathing, slave.”
Bonita gasped, then exhaled a low moan.
Kat chuckled.
She cupped Bonita’s small breasts in her hands again and squeezed, massaging them roughly, bringing blood to the surface of her skin. Bonita kept breathing, back pressed against the seat, legs crossed. “Hands behind your head.”
Bonita struck a beautiful slave pose, exhibiting how much time she had spent practicing. Her breasts were thrust forward, fully exposed from all sides. A twinge of jealousy made Kat grunt even as a thrill coursed through her. No one would touch Bonita again without her permission, but it might be fun to play with others…eventually.
With one fingernail, Kat scratched Bonita’s right breast from shoulder to just before the nipple, leaving a dull line that quickly began to redden. She moved over a half inch and scratched again. By the time she started on the left breast, Bonita was moaning with every scratch. Her legs were still crossed and she rocked ever so slightly in place.