“My poor, sweet mum would be devastated to hear that kind of talk.” He smirked, his huge hand reaching out to the chain of the swing to stop me completely. His body swung around in front, his other hand going to the other side of the chain as his broad shoulders blocked out the last of the dwindling light. There went that swallow attempt again, but the lump had grown exponentially larger.
He leaned in toward me, his face inches from my own as his eyes caught and held mine only seconds before I deflected them to what I could see of my feet.
“I'm supposed to collect you for dinner.”
God, the way he said it made it sound like he wanted to devour me. My knees trembled and I was glad my ass was firmly planted. Otherwise I wouldn't know how to explain my inability to stay vertical. If he didn't know what he was or what he was capable of... He had natural domination down to a fine art.
His breath washed over my face only once before he pulled away and started toward the house without so much as another word, his incontrovertible nature lingering until I had to force myself to my feet and follow him. My body was so alive that I could feel every blade of grass that wriggled between my toes.
I climbed up the back porch steps behind him, freezing as he stopped in the doorway and turned to face me again. I almost didn't notice the towel he was holding out to me, but when I did, I was aware I was looking at it in utter confusion.
“For your feet,” he said slowly, enunciating every syllable as he dangled it in front of me. “The Persian and Oriental rugs in this house are priceless. I highly doubt Grandfather would thank you for traipsing grass over them.”
There were certain things in life I couldn’t abide. Two of my pet peeves were total arrogance and being patronized. I wasn’t stupid or ignorant. Snatching the towel from his hands, I avoided his eyes at all costs as I mumbled under my breath. Propping one hip on the railing, I lifted my foot, and then changed sides, feeling his eyes as they watched my every move.
“Happy?” I asked in a less than savory tone, slapping the towel against his chest as I pushed past him. I was testing his limits to see how far he would go, and whether he had a grip on his anger, having formulated the plan that I would use to make him see what I already knew to be the truth.
“Ecstatic.”
I gave him my sweetest smile, focusing on his thick eyebrows rather than subjecting myself to his piercing stare. He flung the towel on the counter and marched forward, disappearing through a swinging door and leaving me alone with a startled looking woman working over a hot stove. I let my shoulders relax for a second to gather my wits about me as the door swung back in our direction, but his voice flowed through it.
“Keep up or you're going to get lost.”
I glimpsed at the woman cooking, who chortled at the look on my face and waved me toward the door jovially. I gave her a grin and took off after him, barreling through the barrier and almost knocking him off his feet. Once again, he took off in that vexatious march of his, not so much as shooting a glance at me.
It was a fabulous way to make a first impression. Neither of us was what could be considered warm to the other. In fact, it was a positively frosty reception.
“Ah, there you are. I was beginning to think we'd have to send a search party out for you,” Charles bellowed merrily as we entered the dining room, obviously not sensing the tension, or deciding to ignore it; I wasn’t sure which.
One look at Mistress Kayla for direction and I knew what was expected of me. Tonight, we were not Domme and sub. We were Kayla and Kitty, friends and roommates. This was nothing new for me – rare, but not unfamiliar. I took my seat on her left and sat regally with my head held high and hands in my lap, smiling at Mistress Kayla, who looked like she was trying to read me. I wished her the best of luck on that, because quite frankly, not even
I
was sure how I felt about anything anymore. If Jared was a Dominant, there was a chance I'd have my ass handed to me for my prior behavior.
“Well isn't this nice? Time to make formal introductions, I think. Jared, this is a good friend of mine, Kayla. She grew up next door and used to spend time with your dad when he came to stay, and beside her is Kitty, her friend and roommate. Ladies, this is my grandson, Jared. He's visiting from England to do some reorganizing in the corporate offices.”
Jared gave us a wry smile before turning a genuine one toward his grandfather.
“I'm not here to reorganize anything, Grandfather. Father said you needed some help, and I needed to learn from you.”
“Your father's a prudish and weak toff, Jared. Your mother has him under her thumb.”
I watched as Jared's jaw tightened. He apparently got along well with his mother and this was the second time in one evening she'd been insulted. Or maybe it was his father who'd been insulted? I had no idea what a toff was, but
under the thumb
definitely didn't sound good.
“Grandfather—”
“Don't give me the speech, Jared,” Charles started, but a mischievous gleam in his eye suggested he'd changed the direction of his thoughts. “Or do. This would be the first time for the ladies.”
“You said it would just be you and I, Grandfather,” Jared said under his breath, as politely as he could muster.
“Business can wait. It's the weekend, boy.”
It wasn't hard to see that Jared was confused as to why we were there. It also wasn't difficult to see the accusations as he stared down at his food. He thought we were there for the money, and that assumption only seemed to intensify as Mistress Kayla and Charles grinned at one another from either end of the table. How was he to know about their history? They certainly hadn't disclosed that information to him. There was no possible way he knew Mistress Kayla was beyond rich in her own right. Then there was me. I was there for only one reason: because my Mistress had asked it of me.
This was certainly going to make for a fun evening.
Pleasantries. For me, there's a time and place for them. At a dinner table with strangers, it's expected. However, the two gentlemen at the opposite end of the table from us were anything but pleasant. Yet, all through dinner that’s exactly how they behaved with one another. Their conversation was light, all the topics safe and non-committal. From the exchanges I'd had with Mistress Kayla and Charles, I'd had the impression that the two of them were close, but it was glaringly obvious that that wasn't the case.
The longer the meal went on, the more stilted the conversations became. Soon enough, they gave way to silence. I'd always been an observer; I think my place at Mistress Kayla's feet had made that all the more prevalent. As subs, we are coveted, but we're also invisible until we're revered. There were nights I wasn't required for any skill other than to observe in silence, and I'd learned to pay attention. That night at the table, I was an observer at their level, but I still saw.
Jared was uncomfortable. Whether it was due to our presence in his grandfather's home, or to his grandfather’s dismissal of his needs, he grew more agitated by the second. Much longer in the room and I feared he was going to speak out of turn, or at the very least, put a couple of dents in the extravagant silverware. Though it wasn't my place to derail that particular train, I took the task in hand and decided to be proactive, finally breaking the ever-growing silence that left a buzzing in my ears.
“Thank you, Mr. Baker. That meal was delicious but if I eat any more, I'll be rolling to bed.”
“Wouldn't that be a sight to behold?” Charles chuckled, taking my prompt and looking relieved about it.
“Inappropriate, Grandfather.”
Charles snorted, breaking the regal air he'd been milking all night as he slouched in his chair, looking more amused by the second at his grandson’s distaste. Apparently he'd hit his limit for being accommodating. Not that I could blame him. I was bored of Jared's constant need to keep everything proper, while continuing the hostile arrogance. Anyone would think the Queen of England was sitting at the table.
“If you'll excuse me, I think I’ll take a walk,” I whispered politely, looking first to Mistress Kayla and then to Charles, completely bypassing Jared.
“Of course. There are torches in the cupboard under the stairs. You don't want to get lost out there. The gators would think you're a treat.”
“I’ll give them a run for their money. I'm stubborn.”
“May I join you, Kitty?” Jared asked, surprising both Charles and I. Mistress Kayla seemed to be the only one of us expecting the request, her lips curling into a knowing smile. It was times like these I wished I could read her as well as she read me.
“Of course,” I responded, a silent
If you remove the stick from your ass
added in my head as I rose from the chair and smiled sanguinely.
He was on his feet in an instant, looking flummoxed that I'd had the audacity to rise without his assistance. I felt like I was in some twisted version of a Jane Austen novel, propriety still alive and well.
“Excellent. Kayla and I will wash our meal down with a scotch I've been preserving for an occasion just like this.”
I’m not sure what the occasion was, and from the look Jared shot Charles, he wasn’t sure either, but we’d been dismissed. That was that. I was sent on my merry way with the brooding young man while the man coveted the woman he hadn't seen in God knew how long. Spending time with Jared, however, was the reason I was here, so I sucked it up and offered him a smile before he marched on his way. The silence he'd adhered to through the meal stayed with him for a while. He ambled in his long strides across the grass, completely ignoring me while I took everything in with wonder, skipping over the grass in my bare feet and following the beam of the flashlights. The sudden thought of snakes made me regret turning down the shoes I’d been offered.
We didn't wander far from the house. For a while we simply circled it in silence. It wasn't until we strolled by the huge garage and I saw the apartment sitting dark above it that I wondered if it was still used as a dungeon. My curiosity about that, though, was mistaken for something else entirely.
“He has a beautiful
Rolls Royce
hidden away in there. He bought it after making his first million.”
“Why do you do that?” I asked bluntly, looking up at his face, which was cast in deep shadows.
“Do what?”
“You put a monetary value on everything. First, it was the rugs, and now the car. Have you considered the sentimental value? Or that they were bought to be used? You look at a vase and see how much it's worth, while I think your grandfather looks at it and sees the beauty and history, the awe in where it's been and what it's seen in its lifetime.”
“It's a vase,” he deadpanned, turning to look at me. “While we're here and playing twenty questions, why are you and Kayla here?”
“You're missing the point,” I said, taking a cue from him and ignoring the question.
“I don't think I am. A vase is a vase. It doesn't hold the secrets to the universe, it's not going to share the wonders it's seen, and it was a frivolous purchase made by an old man who doesn't know the value of money.”
“You have absolutely no imagination at all, do you? If you ask me, I think you’re wrong about Charles, and in answer to your question, we were invited.”
“Of course you were. Two beautiful women? He would like nothing more than to just take you in for an evening or two and enjoy your company, but what's in it for you?”
“You're talking about money again, aren't you?” I mocked, making a decision and heading toward the garage.
“Why else would you be here?”
I'd been expecting this in some capacity. People with money always had paranoia about strangers sniffing around; they never looked beyond the greed. While I could understand it, it annoyed me that it was
all
Jared could see. He'd spend no time or effort trying to get to know a person; he was immediately suspicious. I raised a hand and held three fingers up.
“One:
not
for the money. Two: for the fantastic company. Three: as I said before, we were invited and Kayla wanted to visit her friend.” I spun around, my dress fanning out around my thighs, tickling the skin as I came to a stop and it caught up with me. My fingers cavorted along the hem as I took the two steps to get close to him and leaned in. “The money... is that why you're here?”
His eyes flashed dangerously, even in the darkness, and I wondered for a second if I'd pushed him too far. He didn't seem to like having his money thrown in his face. His anger was palpable. He had finally come to the same conclusion I had. No matter how he answered, the response would always be yes. His involvement with the company was to keep money flowing. Spending time with Charles was to secure a place in his will. So it all led back to a yes, he was here for the money and he didn't like that reality one little bit.
“You're infuriating.”
“No. I just made you question your motives and you don't like it, because a complete stranger cornered you and you realize how hypocritical you sound. I'm not here for any reason other than to enjoy my weekend with my friend and her old acquaintance, who, by the way, has some great fucking stories if you took the time to listen.”
By the time I was finished, I was leaning in towards him, my hands balled at my sides. How the hell was I supposed to get close to this man when his walls were armored in steel? He'd buried himself behind them and, although I could understand the reasoning behind it, it was frustrating. No man as beautiful as him should be so cynical. He made accusations first and questioned second, not caring who he hurt in the process because he was convinced he was right. It was the first contradictory thing I'd seen since I'd pegged him for a Dominant.
There was nothing between us but anger and frustration, and I knew trying to push past that would be impossible. I doubted we could ever build trust enough for me to get him to open up to me, let alone get honest answers. Without his assurance in me, I couldn't trust him, which made the gesture of even trying, empty. It would take a miracle for us to get any further than this.