Authors: Yvette Hines
Last
night she had arrived home both physically and mentally exhausted. She’d
planned earlier in the day to go over her case a few times before turning in,
but when she got home, she put away all the winter gear she’d been wearing,
showered and got into bed. Telling herself over and over again, think about it
all tomorrow.
It
was not only the trial but the dominating man taking up temporary residence in
her life. True to his words, Masaun had followed her all the way home. He
waited until she parked and entered her condo before he drove away. She didn’t
allow herself to rejoice in the warmth spreading from her core at having
someone care about her safety.
She
didn’t need that from anyone. Since going away to college, and all the late
night hours she’d stayed in the library studying in groups and alone, she’d
looked out for herself. Thankfully, she’d never encountered a situation where
she had to defend herself, but she would have been prepared for that.
Every
six months her father had ensured she was enrolled in the local law enforcement’s
self-defense course. Even now, she took it annually. As a prosecuting attorney,
she pissed off a lot of people; some of those people were family of defendants
she put in jail, others were defendants that had made parole for mid-level
crimes. She wasn’t a fool and she didn’t take chances.
Until
Masaun.
His
name in her mind was a signal that it was time for her to get up out of bed and
get ready for her day. She and her team had a meeting set before they were due
to arrive at the courthouse.
Tossing
the covers off her body, she rose to sit up on the side of the bed. The twinges
and tenderness in her ass were there to greet her. She winced then rose,
keeping herself from giving in to the urge to rub her backside. In the
bathroom, she stood before her mirror with its Hollywood lighting, the shine
illuminating everything.
Last
night she just didn’t want to face any of her thoughts about the events that
transpired being around Masaun, Dom Hawk, but after a good night’s sleep, she
figured it would be easier. It wasn’t, was her first thought as she raised the
hem of her powder blue, cotton night gown. The sensible, conservative look of
her sleepwear seemed out of place as she stared at the deep burgundy marks on
her cheeks. Her normal chestnut complexion, bruised and aching, was a contrast
to the puritanical garment.
The
current tint of her ass made her appear undisciplined and reckless. Women who
got spanked by men at night weren’t conventional ladies that went through life
on their education and intelligence, but those that were led by their passions.
That wasn’t her.
It
couldn’t be me.
Even
as those words played like a broken vinyl record in her mind, the images of
last night’s events looped around like a silent picture show. A flash of her
standing nude before Dom Hawk in his living room. A vision of her bent over Dom
Hawk’s bench, clutching the bar and taking the spanking. Then finally it panned
in slowly, the portrait of her in the foyer, with her legs around Masaun as he
thrust his long thick cock inside of her.
Her
sex pulsed and clenched at the memory. It had been hasty, hard but stupefying
just the same. In all of her sexual experiences, she’d never had a man ravish
her in the way Masaun had. A man to kiss her passionately, robbing her of her
wits and then bury himself so deep inside of her. He had not taken her hand and
led her to his bed then peeled off her clothes to love her slow and tender.
That
wasn’t this man’s nature. Oh, no. Masaun was no-holds-barred in everything he
did. And domineering as shit.
Dropping
the gown, she allowed it to fall back in place over her butt and legs. She was
upset at herself for even giving in to his demands. Hell, giving in to her own
arousal. She should have taken her one orgasm in his playroom and left. He’d
clearly offered her the opportunity to say ‘no’ and to go home with nothing
more than two sore ass cheeks. There was no one to blame but herself. She’d
desired him and wanted exactly what he’d given her against the closet
door—uncomplicated, unrestrained, indulgent lust.
However,
she’d wanted him. Not the physical want, but the emotional want. The need that
still ached in her core even now—to have him take her to bed and please her
more…hold her. That was the part that scared her.
Even
Simeon, her ex-boyfriend, had never held her after sex and she didn’t want it
from him. Usually, they got up, showered and then found themselves at her
kitchen table with coffee and piles of their own work, if he stayed. Normally,
she kissed him at the door and sent him away so she could set amidst her files
in peace. Simeon on his best day had never worn her out to the point she wanted
to sleep. Surely not curl up in his arms and rest.
So,
why had she desired a man she barely knew? A man that she had made a verbal
contract with to let him
play
with her—help her regain her inner
strength and focus. With no answer to her question, she went to the glass
enclosed stall and turned on the shower.
Today,
she had enough on her plate without loading her mind down with ambiguous
thoughts.
Stepping
in and under the spray of warm water, she forced herself to put Masaun Hawkes
and all his personas out of her mind.
~YH~
“I
know the sales reports are boring for
me
to sit through, but when you
start zoning out, I’m worried.”
Sweet’s
voice echoed in the fog of Masaun’s mind like that of a lost man in a canyon.
Drawn from the papers on his desk he’d been staring at for God only knew how
long, Masaun scowled at his brother. “Excuse me?”
“That’s
right. Excuse you.” Sweet shook his head and gave him a perplexed look. “What’s
with you today? I swear that is the second time this afternoon you got lost
somewhere.”
Masaun
shoved a hand through his hair. He knew his brother was correct; he’d found
himself in the last few days drifting off several times. For a man who prided
himself on being focused and in control of his world, it didn’t sit well with
him.
“Oh,
shit! Is your ass frazzled?” Sweet’s eyes roamed his face assessing, as if
attempting to find the piece to a missing puzzle.
“Kiss
my ass. And stop Domming me. If you get a slave or even work with a sub every
now and then, you will not feel the need to exercise your skills on me,” Masaun
growled and pushed up from his seat and walked off to the side, staring at
nothing and everything at the same time. He felt like having a cup of coffee.
Something dark roast and strong to center himself. The cup he’d consumed that
morning at home was long gone now.
“And
you’re defensive—”
Shifting
around, Masaun pierced his younger brother with a look, telling him to shut the
hell up and let it drop. Today he just didn’t have the patience for Sweet’s
sarcastic, humorless wit. If his brother was going to rake him over the coals,
the least he could do was do it with a damn smile. Man, what would it take for
his brother to come alive again.
Sweet
raised his hands as if to ward off a coming attack, but remained silent.
That
made Masaun feel like shit. He knew it was unfair to take out his
self-frustration on his brother, but he needed an outlet and short of going to
The Dollhouse in the middle of the day to work it out on the ass of a willing
submissive, there was nothing else. The thought of a scene with another sub, in
lieu of the temporary one currently under his dominance, caused a hollow
feeling in the pit of his stomach. Training was his passion, something he’d
always enjoyed. Now that Kindle was in his life, some of that joy was slipping
away. No, clearly it was being refocused—to her.
Exhaling,
he reclaimed his seat. “Let’s get back to the reports and then we can discuss
what we received this month in feedback and comments from customers. I came
down early for this and I don’t like wasting your time.”
“Wouldn’t
you prefer to talk about whatever is bothering you?” Sweet folded his hands in
his lap.
“No.”
“Come
on, Masaun, you know I’m a decent sounding board. Well for someone else’s
shit.”
Maybe
if his brother was the Sweet of old, who smiled and was more relaxed and less
pessimistic about life and even his place in the lifestyle, Masaun would have
been more inclined. Besides, Kindle wasn’t a permanent situation. He could
handle whatever emotional baggage was raised surrounding her. After their scene
and sex last night, he’d been unable to sleep much once he returned home. He’d
tried going for a five-mile run to exhaust himself and clear his mind, but that
hadn’t worked. After showering and lying in bed for well over an hour staring
at the ceiling and battling the images and thoughts surrounding the night, he’d
gotten up and watched a movie. He’d practically made it halfway through a
second one before he’d fallen asleep on the couch.
Sleeping
on the couch was probably a big part of his ire toward his brother. Using Sweet
as an outlet was wrong, but he’d add that to the list of things he needed to
analyze later.
Masaun
leaned forward on his desk, laced his fingers together creating a bridge over
the papers, and said, “You want to talk, Sweet? Let’s talk about what’s going
on with you? About you finding a sub or working with one? How about if we
discuss your refusal to let anyone else in—”
“Shit,
Masaun!” Sweet sat up straighter in his seat, where he’d been slouching before,
then shot a hard look at him. “Okay, I get it. You don’t want to talk. So, as I
read these,” he shifted through the printouts in his hands, “I can see our
sales numbers have made a substantial and consistent jump in the last six
months.”
He
didn’t like to antagonize Sweet—much—or use his brother’s emotional issues as
an escape from his own problems, but Masaun needed time to process the shit in
his mind before he started spilling his feelings like a damn school girl. “True
and if you look on page two you will find the breakdown of sales per item
during the same timeframe. I’m hoping this will assist you in your creative
process to gear things toward those higher sellers and maybe phase out some of
those that are lower.”
Sweet
nodded as he listened, his features still tight.
Over
the next hour, Masaun and his brother talked straight shop business and left
both of their personal affairs and concerns outside the room.
CHAPTER eight
No
panties?
Shocked
Kindle read the text message again.
NO
PANTIES, TODAY.
Three
more reads with pure astonishment that had frozen her legs then she collapsed
into one of her kitchen chairs and set the phone down on the table. Already
dressed in a navy pantsuit with sky blue pinstripes and sensible shoes,
prepared for her second day in court, she’d been making breakfast before
heading out the door.
The
three words of the message clued her in more to who it was from than the name
from her contact list at the top of it. Bold, direct, commanding. The words
didn’t allow room for anything but compliance. It was Masaun.
Have
I signed on for this?
Today
was Tuesday and she’d awakened for the first time without the smarting of her
ass cheeks. Yesterday, during the opening statement and calling her first two
witnesses to the stand, she’d barely been able to keep her mind from returning
directly to Masaun and exactly how her backside became so sore. However, at the
same time during the day when she started to worry or doubt her ability, the
subtle throbbing in her rear end would help her to regain her focus. At times
like that she would have pulled her hands beneath the counselor table and
squeezed her fist as she breathed or used any recess time to take a moment for
herself. But, the sting in her backside kept her hands free and her mind clear
as she breathed silently to herself with no one the wiser.
A
warm glow had sat in her core as she felt heated by the knowledge that her
situation was a secret between her and Masaun.
As
calming as it had been to her psyche and rousing to her body, she had major
doubts about Masaun’s next tasking. It was one thing to be bare beneath a coat
going directly to his home or being spanked in the privacy of his playroom, but
not wearing panties to work, to court and trying a case was beyond her
forbearance.
I
didn’t sign on for this. There is no way this man is going to dominate me even
during my work day.
With
feminist indignation, she picked up her phone and started to text him back.
However, she didn’t have time to go back and forth with him by text when she
was about to get into her car and drive. Instead, she pulled up the store
number she had logged in under his contact as well. She recalled on the card
that the store was not set to open until nine in the morning, same time she
would be in court starting with her first witness for the day. It was seven now
and even if he came into work an hour early, she’d be at work with her phone
silenced. When people wanted to get in touch with her while she was in court,
they knew to contact her paralegal, and if it had to do with her current case,
Lindsey would signal her. Masaun didn’t have that number.
Smiling
to herself, knowing that she was about to one up the commanding man, she waited
through the fourth ring for the answering machine to pick up. When it did, she
listened to the message about the store hours and where they were located and
once it beeped that the record was on, she left her message.
“Hello,
Masaun, this is Kindle. I received your text, but I’m sorry, I’m already out of
my house and unable to comply.” She rushed around her kitchen, tiptoeing so
that her heels wouldn’t click against the tile. Feeling ridiculous about her
stealthy actions, like Masaun had some kind of bionic hearing and would know
she was lying, she still kept up the subterfuge until she had her keys and
briefcase and really was headed out her door.
“I’ll
see you Wednesday night after work, though.” Then while she stood beside her
car she thought about yesterday and how what he’d done had helped her. Wishing
she didn’t feel the warm glow spreading within her again, she began pressing
her lips closer to the phone and lowering her voice, “I wanted to tell you how
much the span—”
“Ms.
Langston, a quick word please.”
Startled,
Kindle pressed the end button and turned around to meet a local reporter she’d
seen a few times since the case had started. She glanced around to ensure other
reporters or station vans were not parked outside of her condo. The street was
filled but with people hustling off to work by car or on foot and a few
joggers. Zeroing her gaze in on the young, fair-skinned African-American man
with his recorder in her face, she asked, “What are you doing at my home?”
“I’m
Jonathon Camp from WAVE 7 news. I just have a few questions to ask you about
the case.” He had the nerve to smile as if some kind of green-eyed charm would
help smooth away the disregard for her privacy in his actions.
“I
know who you are and I don’t care. If you have questions for me, you wait
outside the courtroom like everyone else. Keep away from my home.” Grabbing her
driver side door, she yanked it open and got in, letting the pretty boy
reporter know that she was done.
“There’s
freedom of the press!” he yelled still standing at the back end of the driver
side of her car.
This
is called running you over if you don’t get your ass out of my way. She kept
that thought to herself, experienced enough to know that a young reporter
bucking for a spot on the anchor desk or as production manager wouldn’t
hesitate to have her words recorded and played for the public in sound bites.
Rolling
down her window, she instead informed him as she backed out and passed him.
“This is private property. The next time you decide to
exercise
your
freedom, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.” Window back up, she drove
off.
Pissed,
she did not even spare him a glance in her rearview mirror.
Oh,
no, today was not the day to be pantiless.
This event was evidence that today would be a beast of
a day in the courtroom.
She
thought she felt the tension of indignation along her spine that caused the
muscles in her shoulders to start burning, in response to the emotional and
physical turmoil. As she continued her routine route from Ghent to the
courthouse, her hands squeezed tighter and tighter around the steering wheel
until she could just feel the tips of her nails barely pressing into the heel
of her palm. Focusing on the subtle sting, she began taking deep breaths.
Already
she knew, this was going to be one
hell
of a day.
She
was tempted to call Masaun and ask him if she could come by tonight instead of
tomorrow. However, she stifled the compulsion and kept driving. This man wasn’t
always going to be in her life, so she needed to guard herself against becoming
attached.
Thankfully
everyone else on I-264 must have been running behind schedule because she made
great time in getting to work.
~YH~
Masaun
stared at the flashing message button on his desk phone. It hadn’t surprised
him that Kindle had opted to call his office in response to his text command.
She was a strong, confident attorney, but he was learning that she veered away
from confrontations in her personal life.
He
had expected her to rant and rave over his demand. She was new to the elements
of the lifestyle and generally leaped with the developed skills of her
occupation and self-preservation first—being autonomous. Kindle didn’t like to
lean on anyone else for support. Even when he knew her natural instinct was
that of a submissive. She proved that more and more with each of their
interactions.
Most
likely, Kindle had called the office because she hadn’t anticipated him being
there so early. However, because the shop dealt with perishable goods, they had
a contract with UPS for early delivery, and he was always in the store two
hours early to greet it. While bringing the packages back to the kitchen
storage for Sweet to go through, Masaun had heard the phone. He’d glanced over
at the wall phone in the kitchen and seen Kindle’s number. The phone had rung
two more times.
He
hadn’t answered it, but strolled to his office and saw the message indicator.
Moving
to the phone, he pressed the button to retrieve the messages. The first was a
call about a certain type of candy the person wanted to know if they carried; a
favorite of their husband’s. Then the room was filled with Kindle’s silken
voice as she waffled through an excuse of why she couldn’t comply with his
command.
Hearing
her brought back the memories that were never too far away over the past two
days of her. He recalled the sweet, erotic sound of her breathless, husky voice
calling out his name—a song to his soul.
There
was a pause before Kindle started to talk about the effects of their last
session then the call was abruptly ended. He figured she’d lost her nerve, or
decided it was best for her to keep up with her formidable persona. The one
that showed anyone who tried to get close to her that she was fine on her own.
When
the message ended, he deleted it. Less than sixty seconds later, he was walking
out of the store, securing it until Hanson arrived. As the day’s opening
employee, Hanson was responsible for stocking the case with the fresh handmade
chocolates and candy Sweet had created the night before, as well as restocking
the shelves and preparing the store to receive the influx of customers throughout
the day.
He
would be back in time to give Hanson a hand before the store opened. However,
for once, the candy shop would have to wait. It was time for Kindle to discover
what manner of Dom she was dealing with.
~YH~
Once
she was in her office, she felt a little less agitated by the intruding
reporter as she pulled the case files on the witnesses she had lined up for the
day and her notes from last night. She still had about thirty minutes before
she expected her team. Besides her and Dennis Hardaway, another Assistant
Commonwealth Attorney who was just as much a go getter as herself, the floor
was empty and quiet, something she needed at the moment.
“I
believe you owe me something.”
Her
body tensed and heat instantly started simmering in her core. Not the warm glow
she’d felt earlier, but more intense, now, because Masaun was actually there.
No memory, in the flesh.
She
didn’t even need to look up to confirm he was the one who spoke to her, not
with the response her body was having—sex pulsing with each beat of her heart.
Still she raised her head anyway and met his gaze. Those laurel eyes were
clear, and his features calm, not giving away a hint of the emotions on the
inside. She figured he had to be angry if he’d driven to her workplace.
Where
they were and knowing the significance of his presence in her life caused her
anger to rise.
How dare he come here? Was this his plan all along?
He
couldn’t have gotten her message so soon and driven, even from downtown, to the
courthouse in the forty-five minutes since she’d left the message. Maybe he
intended to try and spank her before she went to court. That wasn’t going to
happen.
He
stood only a few feet inside of her office, dressed in a similar outfit to the
one he’d worn the first time she’d met him, but his slacks were a different
color. The desire to see him as he’d been Wednesday night, shirtless with a
fine sheen of sweat coating his torso, made her sex slick with her cream. She
swallowed, pushing that thought away for a later time.
“Masaun,
look, I don’t have time right now to get into anything with you.”
His
left eyebrow ticked up. “I know you got my text message.”
Shit.
All I need is for Dennis to hear him and come in to investigate. Pushing up,
she hustled across the room to the door and closed it. Pressing her back
against it, she said, “I did. I left you a response.”
He
didn’t turn, he glanced at her over his shoulder, pinning her with his intense
gaze. “I got it. I don’t recall requesting a response in my text.”
Shoving
away from the door, she strutted back to her desk. “It was an unreasonable
request.”
“I’ll
look into considering your outlook next time.”
Doubtful.
Refusing to cave on this issue, she folded her arms under her breasts and met
his stare. “As I explained to you on your answering machi—”
“I
don’t tolerate avoidance tactics.”
She
opened her mouth to deny his deduction of why she’d called his work phone, but
knew she was caught and any contradiction she voiced would be a lie. Pressing
her lips together, she balled her hands into fists and exhaled.
His
gaze lowered to her hands then returned to her face, knowing.
Shocked
that he’d nailed her deed, she dropped her hands and glanced down to her desk.
The notes she wanted to go over were staring back up at her, she needed to get
the overbearing man out of her office before her staff descended on their
private talk.
Raising
her head, she tried to reason with him. “Masaun, I agreed to meet you twice a
week for…instruction, shall we say, but you can’t expect me to submit to your
will in other areas of my life. Remember, I’m not looking for someone to Master
me. Just like you said you weren’t interested in a full-time submissive, a
slave.”