Read My Russian Master (Service & Submission Book 3) Online
Authors: Megan Michaels
Tags: #BDSM Erotic Romance
He’d been educated in Moscow, but having lived in New York City for years before, he had knowledge of American customs and foods. He was well-rounded, intelligent, and kind. Yet, there was an intriguing quality about him, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She swore she’d met him somewhere before, but when they’d discussed where he lived and worked in New York, nothing really rang a bell. Certainly, New York was a huge city and it was easy to miss certain areas, but still she was convinced.
“Come. Sit. It’s just about ready.” She took a seat at one of the stools at the island counter, the varnished cherry wood cool against her backside. Eating at the informal dining area in the kitchen had become habit for them most nights. It was comfortable and easy, not intimidating in the least — and she got to watch him prepare the food. She loved watching him using the knives in a deft, precise way she knew she could never hope to match. His talent amazed her.
He slid a glass of white wine in front of her, flipping the salmon, putting the salad and tabbouleh on the plate before sliding the hot salmon next to it along with some fresh wasabi. He sat down next to her and they sipped their wine, eating dinner and talking about her day, world and national events, even Hollywood gossip, until both were full and sated.
Caroline pushed her plate away, dropping her napkin onto it. She looked at him, her eyes hooded from the wine. “I could get used to having you here. I enjoy you. You’re a very interesting man, Maxim.”
“Good, I’m glad to hear it, Caro. I like you too.” He waved his arm at all the dishes on the stove and counter. “Let me get all of this out of the way.”
Finishing the last of his wine, he stood, clearing and cleaning the counter. Making quick work of the mess, he turned to her, wiping his hands with a dishtowel. “Before we have dessert, I want to have a serious discussion.” He slid the laptop in front of them as he pushed back into the barstool next to her.
She swallowed, watching him intently. “Okay.”
What did I do?
She felt guilty, and wasn’t even sure why. He looked so serious setting up the laptop in front of her.
“You know how we’ve been discussing that your attitude and emotions affect the body? That it can influence your cravings and eating as well as how your metabolism functions?”
“Yes.”
Where this was going?
He cleared his throat, leaning his large muscled arm on the back of the barstool. “Well, I did something that I’ve done with other clients — something you didn’t know about. I had to do it this way though because it only works if you are unaware.”
He leaned over and picked up what appeared to be a button battery that was sitting on the counter. “I put this on your work badge. It’s a camera, and it has been sending a feed to my laptop since Monday. It’s voice activated, so it only tapes when you speak.”
Her heart began to race, and she felt a bit dizzy. Here it was again. Men simply could not be trusted. He had invaded her privacy and taped her without her permission. “You did
what?
Are you serious?” She rose from her chair. “I should have you arrested.”
He grabbed her arm and growled. “Sit.”
She hadn’t planned on sitting, but the sound of his voice made her fear what might come if she continued her defiance.
“I’ve done this before with other clients. It works, Caroline. It’s a good lesson on how you feel, what your emotions are, and how you interact with others.”
“But I didn’t know you did it. You should’ve told me. You broke my trust. I could fire you for this, you know!” Her heart continued to race, pounding in her chest, making it hard to catch her breath. Hot tears welled in her eyes.
“Yes. You could fire me or call the police. Is that what you want to do?” He sat waiting for her to answer the question.
She knew she probably should get rid of him. She’d fired people for much less than this. But she really liked him, and had grown used to having someone to talk to in the evening. In a shockingly short span of time, she’d become attached to him in some weird way. His opinion
mattered
. She found herself doing things to please him, hoping for even the smallest sign from him that she’d made him proud.
Why would you need him to be proud of you?
“No. It’s not what I want to do. But I just feel... I don’t know. It’s so fucking dishonest.” She crossed her arms over her chest, staring angrily at his neck, unable to actually make eye contact with him.
“Answer one question. If you knew the camera was on you, would you have changed how you spoke and acted with staff?”
She glared at him in silence, while inside she agonized over what to do. She wanted to say the answer was no — but she knew she
would
have acted completely different. And that was the reason she felt so upset. She’d be embarrassed and feel shame at her behavior. “Yes. I probably would have changed my behavior… if I had known.”
“And that right there, Lena, is your answer. First, I couldn’t tell you and get an honest reading of your emotions at work. Second, if you know you
would
have changed how you spoke and acted, what does that say about your emotions and behavior at work? Mmm?” He lifted an eyebrow at her, letting her process the questions.
“It says that sometimes I’m… not nice.”
“Let’s take a look and see.” He slid the computer closer to her to enable her to get a better look, wrapping his arm around her shoulder as he hit the play button.
The first video that popped up was of her and Sammi.
“Should I get you a coffee from Starbucks? I mean… Maxim probably has said you shouldn’t drink those. They have a ton of sugar and fat in them, right?” Sammi looked afraid, her eyes were large and there was a slight tremble to her voice. Caroline had never noticed that before. How had she missed that?
“I don’t care what he wants. He’s not here. Do you see him here? I don’t. What he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him. Fuck him. Get me my coffee. Now!” She snuck a glance at Maxim part way through her onscreen rant. He had that tic in his jaw that men get when they were upset. The screech of her own voice made her cringe inside.
Mean.
Her eyes had narrowed, and watching the playback of her disregard for both Maxim and Sammi bothered her in a way she couldn’t quite explain. She didn’t want people to be afraid of her. She wanted them to have a healthy respect, yes, but not fear.
Maxim paused the video, sitting quietly, letting her caustic words sink in. “It feels pretty awful to see yourself that way, I’m sure.”
“It does.” She played with the seam on her skirt, pulling at a small piece of thread. No wonder she had a hard time keeping a boyfriend. Just when she thought she might be able to meet someone or have a relationship with Maxim, she screws things up. He’d be totally turned off from her after this.
“There’s more.” He reached out and pressed play again.
This time the video showed a conversation with another office employee named Joe. They were in the conference room after a meeting, discussing a deadline. Everyone had gone home, leaving her and Joe alone.
“Joe, I don’t give a rat’s ass about anything but this damn deadline. I have to present a finished product by Friday. If you have to live here until Friday, or stay up all night, this has to be done. No excuses. Either I have it Friday morning, or you’re fired. Is that clear?” Again, her voice screeched. She hadn’t even tried to say it calmly or rationally. She’d practically shouted at the man in a bitchy, mean voice.
Joe stared at her and then said, “My son has his last ball game Thursday. I promised him I’d be there.”
“Go! By all means, go to the game. Don’t let me stop you. But you better fucking get that project to me the next day, or that ball game is the last fun thing that happens to you this week. I’m not saying you can’t go, but that damn project has to come first.”
Maxim paused the video. She remembered feeling bad almost the instant the cruel words had left her lips. Her father had missed so many of her own games and plays. That fact had caused more than a little bitterness in her. But she couldn’t miss her deadline.
“What were you feeling as you watched that?” His calm voice held perhaps a hint of sympathy.
She looked at him, relieved at what she saw in his expression. Yes, he was disappointed, but he wasn’t angry. She’d expected to see rage, even disgust in his gaze.
“I feel bad. I didn’t want him to miss the game. I really didn’t. But I
needed
to meet my deadline. I didn’t know what to do.” Her eyes filled with tears, a few spilling down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away.
Reaching over to the tissue box, he pulled a couple of them out, pressing them into her hand. “Do you know that anger is sometimes result of fear? Not always, but many times. You were afraid of missing your deadline. It is understandable. What is
not
understandable is making someone feel like that. He must have felt terrible.” He lifted her chin with his hand. “Do you see how you probably hurt him, and made him angry in response?”
“Yes, Sir. I just... I did it wrong.”
“Yes, you did. If you had been supportive and instead said, ‘Absolutely. Don’t even think of missing his game. I wouldn’t want you to break a promise at all. But would you be willing to work late every night the rest of this week? I’ll pay you overtime. This project is so important to us as a company. Is that possible?’” Maxim tilted his head. “How do you think he would’ve reacted to that response?”
“Joe’s a good guy. He would’ve worked late every night, I have no doubt.” She blew her nose, noticing that her hands were shaking.
“Why
did
you respond in such an angry way then?”
“I don’t know. I guess I want to be viewed as tough, strong. You know — powerful. But instead it looks bitchy.”
“It does. People don’t respond to that — at least not well. You’re a good woman. You have a good heart. I’ve seen it in just this short time. I must show you one more though.” He pressed play again.
She exhaled loudly, trying to prepare herself for another humiliating display of her shameful behavior.
This time it was Nancy. She’d come to Caroline asking if she would be willing to donate some money and do a walk for Muscular Dystrophy for her grandson, who suffered from the disease.
“Nancy, you can count on me. I wouldn’t miss it for anything. And I’ll get you a check by the end of the week. Maybe I can talk to the board and see if we can make a donation as part of the company’s charity fund.”
He hit pause. “The woman I see in that video — you — is a woman who cares. She’s kind, considerate, and sympathetic. She is a good woman.”
“But does it make up for the other things?”
“I don’t know, Lena. Only you know the answer to that. We’ll use this camera for a few more weeks to monitor your progress. You will have set-backs. But maybe it will force you to pause and choose your words differently when you know I’m watching, yes?”
“Yes, Sir. I’ll change. I promise.”
“Good. Let me show you something else.”
Lord, what else am I in trouble for today?
He clicked over to open another internet page.
“I have another job. Well, I call it a job because I get paid for it on the video site, but it’s more of a hobby than anything.”
Chapter Nine
H
e turned the laptop so she could see the screen. He didn’t know how’d she react to this, but it would lead into the next conversation. Her eyes widened when she saw the screen.
Has she seen this site? Maybe she’s watched me on the videos already?
He shook his head, silently cursing his stupid second-guessing. The odds of her having watched any of his videos before were vanishingly small.
Viktoria’s image shone onscreen, the lovely woman dressed in her black corset, her bound hands tied to the ceiling, her eyes blindfolded, her body jerking and leaning into the lash of his whip. His cock hardened at the sight of her writhing in both pain and arousal. God, how he loved the whip — and he loved whipping Viktoria. So responsive.
Might as well tell her now.
“That man with the whip?”
Caroline nodded.
“That’s me. I’m a master, and I like using the whip. That’s a friend, Viktoria. We make videos for this site.” He wasn’t ashamed, but it was unsettling not knowing what her reaction might be. He shrugged, waiting for a reaction from her. Something...
anything
.
“Oh. My. God. I love this video. You’re the whip master? I mean... you’re Maxim, but… I watch those videos all the time. This is my favorite site.” She clicked on the list of bookmarks, and there it was right at the top. “Here, see?”
“
Bud’ ya proklyat.
” He swore softly in Russian. “You really
do
watch these.”
“Watch ‘em? I do more than watch them. I’ve memorized them. You two are so hot together. Are you dating her?” She tilted her head, peering up at him.
“No. I told you I’m not dating anyone. We used to — a long time ago. Now, we are friends. So you like spanking and BDSM?”