Four Shades of Recovery: Boxed Set (24 page)

I only need to wait about five minutes until I hear someone unlocking the security door. The person who emerges is Jared Rush. I know him. As he opens the door, cautiously, the first place that he looks toward is the camera. He’s holding a phone. I’m hiding behind the security door. I jump out and spray him in the eyes and face with the black paint.

“Holy shit,” he swears and falls to his knees. I spray him once again. This time in the mouth. He’s taken by surprise and falls back in pain. His hands attempt to clear the paint away from his face and mouth. He drops his phone when that happens. I pick it up and jump over him. Then, I lock the security door behind me.  I’m in the apartment and he’s locked outside without a phone. Mr. Rush is now struggling on the stairwell with toxic paint all over his face and has no easy way of communicating with Matt. He’s also choking on the paint in his mouth. That should give me a little time to speak with my Dom again.

MATT’S POV

The financials on my real estate deal need some attention. I head to my study while Megan works on yet another blog column. She also has a new idea for modifying what she calls the “Sex Room”. She’s doing some internet research on design trends. I smile with delight as I recall our conversation. We were standing in the doorway of my former sex chamber yesterday. It hadn’t been utilized for more than a year. I no longer have a need for sex and torture, in any way.

“One day, we may want to use this space for our little ones,” she says with a sexy wink. “We need to remodel it, somewhat.”

I nearly shudder at the idea of children. “Then we have years to consider the options,” I assure her. There’s no way I want to share her with any babies. I want to treat her like my baby. As far as I‘m concerned, we can wait at least five or ten years before reproducing, if ever. Having great sex with the woman of my dreams constitutes my goal for our marriage.

“Besides we might still have some fun in here with compelling music, a little ceiling suspension and a few strokes with the belt might enliven a sagging sex life, in five years’ time,” I tease while pulling her toward me with a hug. I kiss and smell the top of her head. The scent of her hair drives me wild.

“Only if I’m the one using the belt,” she asserts while smacking my behind gently then gives me a seductive smile.

“You’re playing with fire, Pine, watch out!” I rub my hand on her ass for emphasis.

“On the other hand, if we have a child, he or she might enjoy swinging from the ceiling using the carabineers or cracking the whip on their playmates.”

I know Megan’s sarcasm well enough by now. “There’s no way any child of ours will be exposed to such dangerous props,” I respond. I make a mental note to have my implements of torture removed as soon as possible. I have a sudden urge to spank Megan but I let the impulse fade.

As I work on my laptop, my private detective, Mr. Cane, informs me that Michael Kingsfield and Marissa have come to Portland to look over the property, in person. I’m more than uneasy about the fact that both of them are in town together. I hope their relationship provides enough distractions to keep them away from both Megan and me. I text Jared and direct him to crank up security at the apartment building and at Megan’s place of work. Maybe we should hire additional security for home.

Soon thereafter, I become aware of the sound of someone’s heels tapping on the floor of the hall. This occurs just as I complete my cash transfer for the condo project on the bay. It doesn’t sound like Megan’s confident walk. The footsteps sound tentative and light. I pick up my phone to call Jared. There’s no answer. Now I’m on high alert. As I stand up to investigate, Marissa appears at the door of my study. My stomach drops and tightens. I’m not at all pleased to see her. She’s part of my distant past and Megan would go wild if she saw Marissa in the apartment.

“Master,” she implores while looking into my eyes with desire, “I need to know if you want me for any more services. I’m at your command, sir.”

I know what I must do without hesitation. Keeping Marissa and Megan apart becomes my number one priority at the moment. My body moves into a Dom stance as if on cue. Marissa lowers her head and awaits my command.

“Go to the Sex Room, immediately,” I nearly hiss as I hand her the key. “Assume the position, near the door.”

“Yes, Master.” Marissa turns toward the correct location in a mechanical manner. I let her take the lead. Once she’s headed down the hall and out of my hearing range, I call Megan. She answers without hesitation. At least someone’s on the ball today.

“We have an intruder here baby…I’ve called Jared but he’s not answering his phone,” I tell her while trying to remain calm.

“Yes, Matt,” Megan responds with alarm. “What do you need me to do?”

“Keep yourself locked in your room then call and tell Mrs. Gomez. Also ask her to meet with me as soon as possible,” I add.

“Sure, Matt,” Megan agrees without hesitation. I love the fact that Megan’s so cooperative these days.

I call and let Cane know where Marissa happens to be. My security team appears to be slacking off. 

Things were going so well, Cane assured me, between Michael and Marissa. I wonder why she’s come back to see me? I may be able to finesse the situation yet. Maybe Marissa needs to give Kingsfield some training, after Jillian instructs her in the finer aspects of BDSM techniques. I change my clothes before entering the Sex Room.

By the time I reach the Sex Room, Marissa has stripped off most of her clothing. She sits on her haunches with her head down, ready for my next command. Megan would go thermonuclear if she saw me with Marissa just now. I’m already dressed in my Dom jeans and tight tee-shirt. My voice and movements feel instinctual as I assume my old role. I put Foreigner music on the IPod.

“Master wants you to take a new Dom,” I spit out with anger. Then I walk toward the array of belts and whips near the wall. I select one.

“Yes, sir,” she complies. “Who will be my new Master?” she remains seated near the door with her eyes down and both arms on her thighs as the question is posed.

“Master wants you to take orders from Mr. Kingsfield, from this day forward,” I command and crack a whip near her head.

“Yes, sir, but…,” she sighs and then adds, “may I speak?”

“Yes, you may speak freely,” I encourage.

“Sir, Mr. Kingsfield does not give orders.”

“You must train him to give orders, Marissa,” I snap out the command with venom in my voice. “Mrs. Kitner will help you train Mr. Kingsfield.”

“Yes, sir,” she sobs. I crack the whip and note that her body stiffens in response.

“Tell me why you are sobbing, Marissa,” I direct.

“I want you to whip me, sir, and fuck me, hard,” she persists. “Please, sir,” she begs with all she’s got.

“Master no longer desires those services from you,” I command in my most convincing Dom mode.

She inhales sharply as the pain of my rejection finally settles in. “If you wish, sir,” she states. Her voice sounds weak.

“You will derive great pleasure from your new relationship with Mr. Kingsfield,” I predict. I crack the whip on the floor for emphasis.

“Sir, I will ask Mr. Kingsfield to whip me,” she assures me.

“Make sure that he knows what you want,” I direct her again.

“Yes, sir, I will train him well,” Marissa claims.

“Master is displeased that you returned to Portland,” I proclaim in my full Dom power mode.

“It will not happen again, sir,” she states with confidence.

“Master wants you to leave now, and return to Mr. Kingsfield at once,” I command and crack the whip near her head. The power I feel at the moment is frightening. I’m actually feeling aroused. I may need to bring Megan in here for a session.

“Thank you sir, it will be done.”

I leave her in the Sex Room to dress. Mrs. Gomez approaches me quickly, just as I shut the door on Marissa. She doubles as one of my security personnel when needed. Today’s her day to shine.

“Sir, Megan is locked in her room. I spoke with her and she told me there was an intruder here. I understood the situation immediately,” she explains. Mrs. Gomez has known about my Sex Room for years and cleans it on occasion. If anyone knows my dirty laundry, it’s her.

I sigh with relief. “Good job. Where the hell is Rush?” I ask with indignation.

“Sir, he was assaulted by Marissa. I found him in the stairwell, kicking on the security door,” she admits.

“Damn…What did she do to him? How was she able to evade the security cameras?” I persist.

“She used black spray paint on Jared’s mouth and eyes. She also broke the lens on the camera and painted it black. I’ve given Mr. Rush a neutralizing agent to clear the toxins from his internal and external openings,” Mrs. Gomez claims with some embarrassment. “We’ve cleaned most of the paint from his face.”

“You still haven’t answered my question about how Marissa got through the security cameras and at Jared,” I’m boiling with anger by now.

“We’re not quite sure. Perhaps we ought to ask her,” Mrs. Gomez suggests.

“Ask Marissa how she gained access, when she emerges from that room. Search her and then get her out of my sight,” I fume. I will hire and fire a few people around here and soon. I need to get Marissa out of my condo before Megan hears the story.

But first, I need to speak with Jillian about her newest assignment. 

Cane calls me as soon as I leave Mrs. Gomez and return to my study. “Sir, I was following Mr. Kingsfield as you directed. My efforts focused on Kingsfield exclusively since Marissa was not with him today. I assumed he was my top priority,” he grovels.

“Both Marissa Stone and Kingsfield are your priorities,” I seethe. “If you need a backup to track each one, then bring in a backup. One more mistake like this, Cane, and you are history. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Mr. Frazier. I’m so sorry sir,” he apologizes profusely. Apparently, my security team needs expansion. Marissa’s expenses are increasing rather than moving in the opposite direction. Next, I call Jillian. She answers her phone on the fourth ring.

“I need you to call Marissa and set up some training,” I explain.

“OK. But do you think Marissa will be emotionally stable? At least enough to handle Michael?” she inquires with impressive insight.

“I’ve just had a Dom session with her and she appears compliant, for now. Apparently, she missed the whippings I used to give her,” I state without emotion.

“I miss the whippings I used to give you,” Jillian chuckles. I don’t respond to her flirtatious overture. That’s so far in the past.

“Let’s work out a plan for expanding Michael Kingsfield’s sex life,” I assert. “Or, perhaps we ought to say for improving Marissa’s sexual satisfaction.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to train Michael directly,” Jillian claims. “For some reason, he dislikes me.”

“Maybe he’s threatened by your dominant personality, Jillian,” I observe and laugh without mirth.

“Who knows? In any case, I’m convinced that Marissa can be a key source used to slowly introduce Kingsfield to the world of BDSM.”

“I don’t care how you do it, Marissa’s needs for Domination must be met. Kingsfield is our best option right now,” I observe. “Let’s focus on that goal for the moment.”

“If not, we can find her a new Dom. I have access to the entire network in Portland,” Jillian assures me.

“The thing is, I don’t want Marissa to remain in town. Why don’t you explore the network in Atlanta?”

“I can do that for you, Matt. It’ll cost you, though,” she reminds me.