To Sir (12 page)

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Authors: Rachell Nichole

Tags: #BDSM; Multicultural

BOOK: To Sir
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“Elizabeth, explain yourself. Right now.”

“I’m an adult. I don’t have to answer to you for anything.” She tried to keep her cool and took two steps forward, holding out her hand for her notebook. “That’s mine, and I want it back. Now.” In all the arguments she’d had with her father over the years, she’d never ordered him about. He narrowed his eyes and raised the notebook well out of her reach. Bastard.

They knew she was a writer, but she wrote under a different name, and she didn’t think anyone in her family had cared to find anything she’d written, thank God. And now here was Dad, holding her dirtiest, most erotic little secrets in his hands.

“This filth will never see the light of day. Is
this
what you write? I tried so hard to raise you right. To instill good, God-fearing values in you, give you an education, a home, and this is how you repay me?”

“I hate to ruin your egocentric image, but what I write has absolutely nothing to do with you. In fact, I spend most of my life trying not to think about you at all. Now give it back.”

He turned toward the sink of soapy water, and a horrified scream tore from her throat. She stopped thinking and reacted. She barreled into her father, shoving all her strength through her shoulder and into his solar plexus.

Dad crumpled to the floor, taking her with him. The notebook went flying from his grasp.
Not into the sink. Please, God, not in the sink.
She hadn’t sifted through the notes and writing last night when she’d gotten home; she’d been too raw. She didn’t have another copy, couldn’t remember what she’d written while sitting in Chase’s kitchen, but she knew it had been a major turning point.

Her mother screamed behind her, and Dad grunted. She scrambled off him, sure the shock on his face must be reflected on hers. Not taking another second to worry about it, she lunged for the notebook, where it had fallen on the floor a few feet away, and snatched it up.

She sent a look to her mom that she hoped conveyed her apology. But there was no way she was sticking around for round two. She ran into the living room while Mom was helping Dad up and grabbed her purse. “Thanks a lot for the assistance, asshole,” she said to her brother on the way to the door.

From behind her, she heard her dad stomping through the house toward her. She was halfway down the porch steps when he flung open the front door. “Don’t you ever set foot in this house again, young lady. I am done with you. Do not come around; do not call. It’ll be like you never existed in the first place.”

Each word sliced through her, but she refused to turn around, refused to acknowledge that he’d spoken.

“William, don’t,” her mother pleaded.

“Get in the house, Jane.” Her father’s voice was low and all the scarier for it. For a moment, she had real fear for her mother. But he’d never raised his hand to any of them, only his voice. She’d never even been spanked as a child, no matter how much he grounded her, locked her in her room, yelled, or took things away. No doubt it was because he feared physical violence would mar his perfect family-man persona in the eyes of his constituents. She wasn’t sure he’d ever been angrier than he was right then, but she didn’t think he’d start lashing out physically now.

She should have broken off contact with her family a long time ago, if only for her sanity. This was a good thing. Her gut roiled even as she repeated the words silently. She flung herself into the car and took three tries to get the keys in the ignition because her hands shook so badly. But then she was speeding out of the driveway, spinning around, and driving away, not caring what direction she went, as long as she ended up far, far away from this place.

Tears threatened, but she wouldn’t let them fall. She would
not
cry over shredding whatever failing relationship she’d had with her family. Even though she and her mom had almost had a bonding moment in the bathroom tonight.

Liz drove and drove until her heart slowed and her cheeks dried from the tears she wouldn’t admit had slipped out. A car honked and veered to avoid her. She jumped in her seat, the belt cutting against her skin, and checked her blind spot before pulling into a gas station. Where the heck was she?

Dark buildings surrounded the brightly lit station. Somewhere in the warehouse district, then. She locked the doors and crumpled, her head resting on the steering wheel as sobs consumed her. Well, that was that. She was finally, completely, and totally alone in the world.

She didn’t know how long she sat in the gas station, but eventually her tears stopped, and she wiped her face with the back of her hand. “Okay, enough of this crap.” She glanced around and tried to get her bearings. After a minute, she was pretty sure of the direction that would take her back to the highway, and with a last calming breath, she pulled out into the light traffic.

She drove down a few more blocks and then slammed on the brakes. Was that…? She looked up, and sure enough, in her review mirror, blazing to life, was the sign for the K Club. God hated her. He must. It was the only explanation she had for the way her life was going right now. Several people loitered in front of the building, smoking.

Must be the club was reopened. Maybe that was the news that was so important Chase had answered his phone after sort of tying her to the bedpost. She should have left right when he’d deserted her. But something besides an orgasm had been brewing inside her, and she hadn’t been willing to give it up just yet. And she should leave now.

Two huge guys stood on either side of the door, wearing black pants and black shirts with
SECURITY
emblazoned on them in white capital letters. Chase hadn’t been kidding when he’d talked about the rules and regs at the club. She imagined these two were his main enforcers if things got out of control. Why was she still sitting here?

She’d followed her GPS here the first time, but maybe she could backtrack and find the highway without it. She’d left it in her house since she knew the way from her place to her parents’.

She didn’t move. The longer she sat here, the more her mind taunted her. All she could hear was every insult and reprimand her father had ever hurtled at her. She’d show him.

If he thought she was such a filthy slut, maybe she
should
be. If she was going to get blamed for it anyway, she might as well do half the stuff he thought she had and have some freaking fun for once. Before she could lose her nerve, she hopped out of her car, locked her purse in the trunk, and jogged across the street in her demure heels.

Breathless, she stopped in front of the bouncers. “Hi. I’m here to see Chase.”

They looked at her and then at each other. “Sorry, honey,” the one on the left said. “I don’t know who that is. This is a private club. We’re going to have to ask you to leave.”

She scoffed. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know your own boss’s name. I need to see him. Now. It’s important. Trust me, he’ll want to see me. Just tell him I’m here.” What did she look like in her yellow flower dress, with red-rimmed and swollen eyes, any hint of makeup washed from her face by her tears? At least she hadn’t been wearing eyeliner and mascara.

“Unless this gentleman you’re searching for is a card-carrying member of this club and brings you in as his”—he laughed—“date, you’re out of luck.” The look he gave her told her how impossible he thought it was that she could be anyone’s date, let alone Chase’s.

“Fine. I’ll call him.” She grabbed her phone and dialed the club’s main number.

A few seconds later, a woman answered, “The K Club. How may I help you?”

“I need to speak with Chase, please.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. Mr. Masters is unavailable at this time. Can I take a message?”

“Ugh!” Liz hung up. “Look, just let me talk to Dusty. He’s got to be around here somewhere.”

The guards exchanged another glance, only this one was a bit more cautious. They really must have thought she was lying about knowing Chase. Since she’d dropped Dusty’s name, they seemed to think she was legit. And possibly a stalker, by the way they were looking at her.

“Guys, I was here a couple weeks ago. Got a private tour with Dusty and Chase. I’m an author. And I have unfinished business with your boss.” Great, now even she thought she sounded crazed. But she couldn’t help it. She’d made up her mind, and she was going through those doors one way or another. She wasn’t backing down. She’d already tackled one guy today; she wouldn’t mind a couple more. Maybe she could work out her frustration on them.

Unsure of her plan but determined to get inside, she started forward.

* * * *

Chase stared down at the pinkened flesh, his hand stinging. Amber was a sub he’d had fun with in the past. And when he’d seen her downstairs tonight, still unclaimed, he’d invited her up for a little spanking, a little orgasm denial, and perhaps some relief. For both of them. He had to do something, anything, to wipe the feel of Ms. Elizabeth Leigh Clark from his body. Thank God Suzanna hadn’t been here tonight, or he might have asked her instead, stupid as that would’ve been. But he’d needed someone to help him work through his riled emotions.

He’d decided maybe it was better if he didn’t apologize to Liz. He owed it to her, but if she accepted his apology, he didn’t think he could be trusted to keep their relationship on a professional level. He wanted her too badly, despite all the reasons he shouldn’t.

He smacked Amber’s ass again, and she squealed. He placed a soft kiss to her lower back and rubbed her red cheeks, easing the sting he knew she loved. She’d tried out to be his permanently once upon a time, but it hadn’t worked out. She had yet to find the right Dom, and Chase vowed to really give her a second chance to see if they were compatible. She’d no doubt be a better fit than Liz.

His blood surged hot, as he watched her naked back rise and fall with her panting breaths. She lay bent over the bench, fully strapped in with arms and legs in just the right position to showcase her petite body. Her long chestnut braid hung over her left shoulder, swinging with every smack.

He wouldn’t fuck her. They would need to take things slow before he was comfortable enough to have sex with her and see if they could try a real D/s relationship outside the playroom. Amber whimpered, and he massaged the backs of her thighs, then slapped both lightly. He would bring her fulfillment tonight, whether or not he found his own.

He spread her thighs wider, opening her entrance to his gaze and the cool air in the room. She shivered.

“I’m going to put in the vibrator now.”

“Yes, Sir. Please,” came her voice, thick with desire.

He pushed the thick vibrator in an inch, and she moaned. She was so wet he didn’t need any lubricant to slide it in all the way, slowly at first, and then with a sharp thrust. She cried out. He smacked her ass, and her thighs clenched, holding the vibrator in tight. He spanked her again and turned on the vibrator. His pulse pounded in time to her pants of pleasure as he treated her to his open-palmed thwacks over her ass and thighs. Each stroke increased his desire, but he couldn’t stop himself from picturing Liz lying prone and at his mercy instead. He remembered the sound of Liz’s cries as he made her orgasm. The memory almost sent him over the edge to come in his pants like a virgin.

A sudden loud knock behind him broke him from his thoughts.
What the hell?
Amber didn’t seem to notice. He rubbed her ass for a second. “Sounds like we have company.”

“Mmm. Yes, please,” she said.

“Come in,” he called.

The door opened, and he turned to find Lorenzo standing in the doorway. What the hell was he doing upstairs? Something must be seriously wrong.

“We have a problem,” his bouncer said, confirming his fears.

Shit. He held up a hand, and Lorenzo nodded, then quietly exited. He moved to the front of the bench, where Amber’s head was drooped in ecstasy. He ran a finger down her cheek. “Amber, honey. I have to go. I don’t know how long it will take. Do you want me to finish you off quickly or send someone else to do the job?” They’d barely started the scene, damn it.

She opened her eyes, blinking in confusion. It wasn’t like him to break his Dom role in the midst of the scene. “I don’t want anyone else,” she said. Her voice was low, still rolled in pleasure, but he’d ruined her subspace mentality. He could see it in her eyes.

“Are you ready to come for me?” he asked.

She shook her head. That didn’t really leave him with a lot of options. But if the problem was one Dusty could have taken care of, Lorenzo wouldn’t have come to get him.

“I’ll wait,” she said.

“If I’m going to be too long, I’ll have to send someone. Who do you want?”

She swallowed, her eyes fluttering. Despite what she’d said about not being ready, she was close to orgasm. Christ, this was unprofessional.

“Surprise me.” She smiled.

He grinned in spite of himself. She did like to live on the wild side, this one. “Okay,” he said. He returned to the back of the bench and slapped her left ass cheek hard. She yelped. “Something to tide you over.” He turned the vibrator on a lower speed, and she moaned. “Do not come until I get back or someone comes in my stead.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, flexing her ass muscles. With that parting sight, Chase went into the hallway.

“This better be good,” he ordered as soon as the door was closed.

“Sorry, boss. There’s another crazy outside, demanding we let her in. To see you, actually. Dusty’s a bit, uh, tied up at the moment, and I didn’t think you’d want the cops called on our second night back open.”

“You’re right. How bad’s D?”

Lorenzo shrugged but didn’t quite meet Chase’s eyes. Great. That meant Dusty was in the middle of a heavy scene, probably writhing in pain—and pleasure—possibly on the basement stage.

“Where is she?”

“Outside. She charged Aaron and Kane, smacked one of them.”

“Shit. Stay here. Keep an eye on Amber. Ask her if she needs anything through the intercom. Do not go in unless she asks you to or is unresponsive. If I’m not back in three minutes, get Spike up here.”

“Yes, sir.”

Chase raced down the stairs, not bothering with a shirt. He walked as quickly and calmly as he could across the main floor and outside. He didn’t want to alarm anyone, after all.

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