I had to get my shit together.Letting my imagination run wild wouldn’t get me what I wanted—Dr.Smithson to realize she was playing with powers she didn’t understand and to make a career change before someone got hurt.Shaking my head, I watched her punch in a code, automatically cataloguing the numbers in my head.It was one of the coping mechanisms I’d come up with working my way through law school.Numbers were still a thousand times easier than letters, which only mattered if the lawyer thing didn’t work out and I had to turn to a life of crime.Reading might be a challenge for me, but I had the kind of memory that made counting cards and memorizing numbers as easy as breathing.She opened the door, giving me a nervous glance over her shoulder before entering.
With its dark wood trim and architectural details, the interior of the building felt more in keeping with the city but none of that in and of itself was remarkable.The only thing that caught my attention was the surprising lack of security.Aside from having to know the code to enter the building, there wasn’t anything to stop any psycho she might pick up from making his way at least as far as the elevator.Thinking of her bringing someone she didn’t know to this space set my teeth on edge.
“You bring clients here?To this building?By yourself?”I asked, hoping the answer was no.
“We already covered that during the deposition, Counselor.The kind of work I do requires a certain amount of privacy and discretion.”As she spoke, her shoulders shifted and the blushing woman from the car was gone, replaced by someone sure of herself and her work.The woman was a fucking chameleon.
“I’m amazed you’ve lasted this long.”My thoughts ran to images from reality crime scenes, and I had to clench my fists to keep from shaking some sense into her or pulling her into me to shelter against my body.The urge to protect her was becoming much too frequent and damned inconvenient.
She shot me a look that screamedOh pleasebefore getting into the elevator and pushing the button for the second floor.Every step we took away from the world outside made it that much clearer what kind of risks she was taking.Unacceptablerisks.
“I’ve lived in this city since I graduated from school.I’m not stupid and I’m not naïve.”
I snorted in disbelief and she turned the full force of her dark eyes on me.
“Listen, you patronizing asshole.I screen my clients thoroughly and I hire security for the first session, longer if I get any hint that I need it.Youdon’t care more about my safety than I do.I’m taking a bigger chance bringing you here than I’ve ever taken with a client.They’ve all been harmless.”
I hated her answer.She was playing with fire and didn’t realize it, but I loved that she recognized I was dangerous.Not to her physical safety.I’d never take things further than she wanted to go.But I had every intention of pushing her outside her comfort zone and challenging every belief she held about herself.Before we were done with each other, she’d know Doms and submissives were real and she’d know exactly which side of the line we each stood on.
Pushing aside thoughts of her slack-ass security system to revisit later, I placed my hand on the small of her back, partly because I knew my touch unnerved her and maybe even more significant, simply because I wanted to touch her.To feel the curve of her waist and the heat of her body through the thin silk of her blouse.She hurried through the open doors, obvious—if unsuccessful—in her desire to step away from my touch.
A solid wooden door stood opposite the elevator.The intertwined script initials GS were the only indication of what went on inside.Alexandra punched in another code, took a deep breath and pushed the door open.We jostled for a few moments, each of us insisting the other enter first.I finally walked into the room, content to give her the illusion of control, at least for a few minutes.
The room was stark but beautiful, with ebony wood floors and cool white walls.The lack of decoration added importance to the few pieces in the room.Alexandra had the image down pat.It would have made a better set for my client’s movie than the cheesy dungeon they’d used to shoot.Ex-client, I reminded myself.A wooden St.Andrew’s Cross took up the prominent spot in the room, flanked on one side by a huge, elaborately carved armoire and a padded leather horse on the other.The cuffs on the cross were Velcro, but the metal rings at the base of the horse were welded in place.The idea of her binding her wrists and ankles, making herself helpless in front of some stranger, made me want to thrash her myself.My thoughts must have shown on my face—another clear sign of how twisted up she had me—because she opened a drawer on the armoire and pulled out a pair of cuffs.
“I always use my own cuffs.Quick release,” she said, holding them out so I could see the button that opened them without a key.
It was smart, if inadequate, but it also meant she’d never really felt helpless.At least not in this room.The irony of wanting her safe and in control and helpless at the same time hit me like a punch to the gut, but I’d have to sort out my feelings later.Dr.Smithson and I had work to do first.
She set the cuffs back in the drawer and when she turned around to face me, she’d changed again, sliding into what I assumed was her Lexi persona.It was the same way she’d looked when we met outside the judge’s chambers—the guise of a sex kitten with the demeanor of a Dominatrix.She might be playing a game she didn’t believe in, but she had some skill.Too bad it was all in the wrong direction and dangerous enough that someone could get hurt.
“This is where I hold my sessions,” she said, motioning to the room around her.“Under regular circumstances, we’d have a consultation, and I’d know what you wanted to work on before we started, but since you’re an unusual case, we’ll have to play this a bit by ear.”
She stalked toward me, putting a little extra swing into her hips and closing the distance between us.Keeping her gaze locked on mine, she let her hand rest on my arm and leaned in close enough for me to smell the heady floral scent she wore.
“Normally, I’d have had you submit a doctor’s report and sign a non-disclosure agreement before you saw the inside of this room, but I think we know things about each other that we’d both rather not be made public, so I’m comfortable proceeding.”She laced the wordcomfortablewith enough sexual energy to make it feel like it meant something much more thanokay.“I charge two hundred dollars for the consultation and two thousand dollars for the first session.Since this is an unorthodox situation, I’ll waive the consultation fee.You can PayPal Lexi at the Gentleman’s Submissive dot com.It’s spelled the way you say it.”
She pursed her gorgeous fuckable lips and blinked up at me.That’s why she was so calm.She didn’t expect me to go through with it.She must have assumed when it came time to pay up, I’d walk and let her off the hook.Grinning, I pulled my phone from my pocket and made quick work of sending the payment.In a few seconds, her phone chimed, I assume announcing the money’s arrival.She grabbed the phone from her bag and glanced at the screen, a wrinkle forming in the center of her forehead.
“Are we set?”I asked, feeling like the fucking Big Bad Wolf watching Red make her way through the forest.
I saw her swallow and then nod.“What would you like to work on?Since you say you’re already a Dom, you have to give me some idea where you’d like to start.”She said the wordDomwith the same intonation I imagined she’d use to describe someone from Mars.
My anger at her and her business practices had morphed into something darker.More intriguing.I was going to enjoy every minute of this.
“How much time do we have?”I asked, running through possibilities in my head.Hell, I’d drop another two grand if I had to to teach Dr.Smithson what she didn’t understand.
“Sessions usually run for two to three hours, depending on what a client wants to work on.”
“I see the obvious choices.”I motioned to the cross and the bench.“Why don’t you show me what you have in your toy box?”
She nodded, the press of her lips into a thin line the only sign she was uncomfortable.Opening the wooden doors, she revealed an impressive array of floggers, paddles, and crops.Most of it was what you’d expect to find at a typical adult toy store—nothing as hard as a cane or whip, thank fuck.There were shelves holding a variety of vibrators, dildos, and plugs and two smaller drawers.I scanned the cabinet, keeping part of my attention on her so I could gage her reaction as I looked at each item.She didn’t blink when I studied the floggers but I saw her suck in a breath when I moved closer to the items on the shelves.When I nodded toward the drawers, her pulse kicked up enough I could see it beat against the delicate skin of her throat.
“Open them please,” I asked, deliberately keeping my hands behind my back.When I finally reached for something, I wanted the added visual impact.
She slid open the top drawer, revealing her trick cuffs and a few blindfolds I was fairly certain she’d be able to see through.She paused for a moment with her hand resting on the drawer below.Inhaling, she opened the drawer and took a step away from it and me.Interesting.A modest selection of clamps and intimate jewelry lay nestled on a red velvet pad.With the delicate chains and beads, it looked much tamer than the clover clamps and weighted clips routinely used at the club, but either she’d had a bad experience with it or she wanted to try it.With the way she ran away from who she was, I could only guess.It didn’t matter.We were a long way from nipple clamps.
“May I?”I asked, not bothering to hide my grin when her cheeks flushed.
