Whip Me Up Tie Me Down Page 10

  “Mildred called. I have a lesson this afternoon.”

  “Great. What time?” He poured a cup for himself and sat at the kitchen table like he owned it, and she had to admit he looked good in her kitchen. Just as good as in her bed. Hell in a hand basket, she was way too gone for this kind of change in her life.

  For one short second, she regretted the call to Mildred. Damn conscience wouldn’t help when he broke her heart, though. He’d be gone soon enough and she needed to be prepared.

  “We have about an hour.” She pulled two plates from the cabinet and waved him back to his chair when he stood to help. “I‘ve got it. Sit and be still.” The words came out harsh, more so than intended, but he didn’t quibble.

  A few long minutes passed in silence while they ate and Lizette tried to rewire her brain into some semblance of her regular self. The urge to apologize came and went when she couldn’t be sure what to say or why she needed to say it.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Huh?” She looked up into those incredibly green eyes and felt a heavy weight settle around her.

  “What did I do or say to screw up what was going great earlier?”

  “What do you mean?”

  One corner of his mouth curved up. “You aren’t a good liar, Lizette. Stick to your strengths and talk to me.”

  She couldn’t open her mouth, couldn’t tell him anything about how she felt. No, she could, but she didn’t want to and it had been a long cold day in hell the last time she did something she didn’t want to. “What are you talking about?”

  Jake leaned back in his chair, his coffee cup hovering just below his chin while he contemplated her. He was analyzing her. It was what he did, who he was when he wasn’t naked in her bed, and she knew she wasn’t going to win this conversation.

  Still didn’t make it easy.

  “I’m a little out of sorts, that’s all.”

  “Because of me? What did I do?”

  Damn. He was the anti-dominant, calm, direct, without pretense or authority but reeking in power. How was she supposed to keep her strength when he washed over her like rain and made her new again? There was no way to explain what she didn’t understand herself.

  “It’s nothing, really. Maybe I just need a little more sleep.” He raised a brow and she backpedalled. “No, not that kind of sleep. Real sleep.”

  He continued to eat and stare. Eventually, he’d hit on the issue if she gave him enough time.

  “I’m not used to having a man in my house. Most of my encounters are at the club.”

  “No steady submissive? I guess that’s a good thing for me, since I just busted into your life.”

  She stood and went to the sink, scraping her plate and rinsing it. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  Jake’s arms wrapped around her from behind, his breath warm on her nape. “Tell me what I said that bothered you, Lizette. I would never intentionally hurt you. If you don’t tell me, how will I know when to keep my mouth shut?”

  She wanted to. No one had claimed her since Gran died, and their relationship was family, not sexual. What his mouth was doing to her shoulder didn’t help.

  “I don’t usually have a man in my house.”

  “I gathered that much. What else?”

  Closing her eyes to gather what little inner strength she had left, she gave in to his request, simple as it was. “You called me your woman. Nobody’s called me that, or anything like it, in a long time.”

  Okay. It was easier to say the words without looking at him, not by much, but some. Now it was out and over.

  He turned her in his arms and she lost the privacy he’d offered a moment earlier.

  “Is it because you don’t like it?”

  Her tongue refused to move from the top of her mouth. Already too much information in his head about her, no need to give him more fodder for the lethal blast he’d fire eventually. She offered a bare shake of the head.

  His fingers brushed across her collar and moved hair over her shoulder and out of the way. They slid up her throat and cupped her chin. Lifted until she was forced to look at him. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  The urge to say something, anything, throbbed in her chest but she didn’t have any suitable words.

  “Does my endearment conflict with your dominance?”

  She squeezed out a no, mouth dry as dust.

  “Please talk to me, sweetheart. Tell me what I’m missing here.”

  He pressed a kiss to her forehead, her cheek, and when he moved to her mouth she turned her head. A blast of heat reared in her chest and forced a few words out. “I’ve only been with Gran, just the two of us for a long time. She was the only person who used those kinds of words.”

  Tenderness flooded his features and he pulled her in close to his body, so close that she could feel his heart thumping against his ribs. She pushed hard against him. “I don’t want your pity.”

  “Not what I’m offering at all, Mistress.”

  At least he didn’t use the L-word, otherwise she’d have to kill him. “Okay. Let me go. I need some air.”

  One more shove and she was free, backing up until her ass hit the counter. The only strength she had left funneled into maintaining eye contact. “I’m fine on my own.”

  “I’m sure you are. You’re a strong woman, but that doesn’t mean you can’t care about others.”

  She chose to ignore the last comment, opting to find her jean jacket and the bag she used for her whip. “Are you finished with the lecture? I’d like to get to the club.”

  ***

  Kellie rang the bell and waited for her friend and former boss to answer the door. She’d been warned that the wait time might be a little long, since moving around the house wasn’t easy for Dena these days.

  The door opened and Kellie held in a gasp. Pasting a smile on her face, she said, “Hey Dena. How are you feeling?”

  “Like a beached whale. Come on in and help yourself to some tea.”

  Watching her friend lumber across the floor and lower her body into an overstuffed chair was like an advertisement for abstinence. The once petite woman was huge.

  “How much longer…”

  “…until I explode? Six weeks, if I last that long.”

  “Have you picked out a name?”

  “No. We’re still discussing it. So, what happened to send you over here for advice? I know you’re not here to talk about babies. Are you?”

  “No. I’m excited about your little bundle, but I have an issue to discuss. I need your help.”

  “What did he do this time?”

  Kellie set her purse on the sofa and walked into the kitchen for a glass of water. “He proposed.”

  “He what? I didn’t hear you.”

  She left the glass on the counter and went back into the living room. Arms crossed, she faced Dena. “He asked me to marry him.”

  “Wonderful. Wait. You’re upset. What went wrong?”

  “I’m already wearing his collar. Why get married? What difference does it make?”

  Dena shifted in her chair and rubbed her ever-expanding belly. “You’re mixing up apples and oranges, Kellie. Calm down, sit down, and we’ll talk.”

  “I don’t want to talk, I want to rant.”

  “I understand, but it isn’t helping.” Dena lifted her cup and sipped at her tea. “Damn it, Kellie, sit your ass down right now or I’m going to throw something at you. I’m getting motion sick with all the pacing.”

  Kellie plopped into the opposing chair. “I’m sorry. Can I get you something? Fresh water? More tea? Anything?”

  “I’m fine, or I will be when this baby is born.” Another sip of tea seemed to help. “Now, what’s the problem with Mark? Is he treating you badly?”

  “No. He’s great, but I don’t think I’m ready for marriage. I watched my parents implode. I don’t want to go through it again.”

  “Are you sure he wants marriage? He never seemed the sort to settle down, but then, neither did Ste
ve.”

  Kellie slouched down in the chair. “Yes. He proposed. He gave me a ring, too.”

  “Oh, wow. Let’s see it.” Dena stretched her arm out but when Kellie reached for her purse, she said, “You’re not wearing it?”

  “No, and he isn’t happy about it. I told him I needed some time to decide. Here.” Holding the little bag by the string like it was a bug specimen, Kellie passed it to Dena.

  She upended the satin pouch and a beautiful diamond ring sparkled in her hand. “Whoa. This is one gorgeous rock.”

  “I know,” Kellie said. “He has great taste and the money to back it up. I just worry that he’s trying to buy me or mess with my head. We extended our contract last month, so I’m his for another six months. Why do we need a ring? Isn’t the contract enough?”

  “No, it’s not. They’re two different things. The contract from the club is about your physical relationship. Marriage is about emotions. I’ve watched him with you. So has Steve, and he and Mark have been friends for years. That man is crazy in love with you.”

  Chapter 15

  Midafternoon on a Saturday made for a mixed crowd at Private Delights. The main room was scattered with singles and couples, most of them socializing. They stopped right inside the front door and Lizette turned to Jake with a frown. “We’re in my life now, so I expect you to follow protocol. Eyes down, no conversation with anyone but me without permission. Do you agree, sub?”

  It wasn’t a surprise. He’d been in the club several times with Mark and his partners, so he knew the drill. And following Lizette through the building with his eyes glued to her ass wouldn’t be a hardship. As long as he didn’t mention how much he enjoyed the view. Easy answer. “Yes, Mistress.”

  He dropped his chin and she put her fingers in his hair. One hard tug had him looking into her smiling face.

  “Mind your manners and you might earn a reward.”

  Damn if she didn’t get him hard with those sultry blue eyes and strong persona. He followed her to the elevator and when it opened, she turned to face the door and pointed to a spot on the floor next to her, one brow raised. Unsure of the gesture, he took a chance and sank to his knees.

  “Good job. Now, give me your shirt. He tugged the polo over his head one-handed and she held open the bag with the whip.

  What the hell. He’d been shirtless at the beach, the pool, and other places where necessary. If she wanted to look, he didn’t mind. A little warning and a few weeks at the gym would’ve been nice.

  The door slid open and he stood to follow her down the hall. Mildred was waiting inside a relatively empty room, a large blue stuffed toy sitting in a wooden chair nearby. Jake sighed, glad to see there was a victim for the practice session. He’d given serious thought to volunteering during the drive to the club, but watching her practice would give him a little more confidence in her ability to keep from sending him to the emergency room.

  “Good afternoon, Jefferson. I wasn’t expecting to see you today.” Mildred’s eyes widened as she took in his attire, then turned to Lizette. “I’m impressed. In all the years I’ve known the young man, I never saw this relinquishment of power on his part. Well done, Mistress Lizette. Georgia would be proud.”

  Jake opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, trying and failing to form some sort of reply. Not that he was supposed to comment on their conversation, but he felt compelled to disagree with Mildred. Lizette, the little minx, didn’t help him out. Instead, she encouraged the older woman by grasping the front of his waistband and leading him to one side of the room. Once she had him in place, she cupped his crotch and damned if he didn’t harden in a split second, filling her hand and some.

  “Eyes down, sub.” She spoke in an undertone, a tiny bit of privacy but not much. “See what I’m touching? This is mine to do as I wish. I appreciate your gift to me. Remember, you speak to no one without permission.”

  He didn’t have to ask about consequences. He’d picked up enough about the lifestyle from listening to Mark and his buddies. The idea of punishment gave him a little zing of anticipation, but not enough to push any buttons to earn more than he already had. He kept his eyes down and his mouth shut. A pat on the head verified his choice.

  Regardless of the rules, he lifted his head enough to watch the goings on, keeping his lids half shaded to make it harder to get caught.

  Lizette pulled the whip out of the bag, along with her jean jacket and hat. From the angle she’d allowed him, he could easily see and hear the lesson. Mildred, who he’d known for years, was a spry woman of indeterminate age with a wit and inner strength he’d usually suspect in a much younger woman.

  The revelation of her dominant personality was kind of a relief. His understanding of her sometimes rough treatment of him now made sense. As the lesson progressed, he found a new reason to admire both women. And could see why Lizette had been uncomfortable when he ran into her in the parking lot. Swinging the bull whip was hard, physical work. An idea clicked in his head, a plan for later if he could convince his woman to let him service her with a proper massage to ease her muscles.

  An easy plot to get her naked and get his hands all over her and she’d no doubt see through it in less than a minute. Still, she might agree. Watching the long lines of her lithe body while she worked through the exercises Mildred directed didn’t help lessen the hard length of his cock. It throbbed in time to the crack of the whip, waiting for her hand to return and offer him a reward for his patience.

  The Dommes focused on the stuffed toy, and he listened.

  “It takes only a split second of lost concentration to flay skin from the human body. The goal is to aim for the airspace immediately above the skin of your submissive. The sound of the sonic boom and the pressure of the air moving across his skin will make an impression, but not a permanent scar.”

  “Ouch.”

  Both heads turned in his direction when Lizette said the word, but he’d anticipated and only saw the faint movement of their bodies.

  “Jefferson, would you care to watch your Mistress’s lesson?”

  Oh, hell no, he wasn’t about to answer the woman and earn an extra punishment. He had more sense than that, with a couple degrees to back up his intelligence. He kept his mouth shut and waited.

  Lizette’s hand settled on the back of his head, how she got to his side without alerting him, he didn’t know.

  “You may answer Mistress Mildred. And you may watch if you’d like.”

  “Yes, Mistress, I’d like to watch.”

  From across the room, Mildred’s British accent speared him. “Would you consider taking the place of the toy, Mr. Wortham?”

  He shot a look to Liz, unsure of her intent. Bottom line? He trusted the woman with his life, even after such a short time. “Yes, Mistress, if she chooses to use me.”

  The spontaneous intake of air on her part said more than words could. Her fingers gripped his chin and yanked his head up until their eyes met.

  “You trust me that much?” Shock and wonder were reflected in her eyes.

  “I’m honored to serve you, Mistress Lizette.” At the moment, it was all he had to offer. Later, he’d say more in private. There were things she needed to know about him, information few people had access to for security reasons.

  She swooped down and took his mouth in a blistering kiss and then rejoined Mildred. “You may stand and observe, Jake.”

  He got to his feet and bent to rub his knees. At the first crack of the whip, he forgot the pain in his legs while his woman managed to hang the end of her whip in the thin space adjacent to the ugly blue snowman. Concentration evident in her expression, her entire body focused, she was a vision of strength and powerful womanhood. The erection that had waned while he waited came back with a vengeance, an ache only she could remedy.

  The whip settled at her feet and her body loosened. Mildred stepped into the area and offered warm praise for her progress and turned to wave him to them.

  Air caught in his chest.
He’d agreed to this exercise, his mouth making claims his body wasn’t quite ready to handle. She was good when aiming at a toy, but he wouldn’t know how careful she’d be when he was the victim. If nothing else, he’d have a nice scar and a good story to tell the grandkids someday.

  Forcing his feet to make their way across the room, he plucked up his courage and presented himself to the women.

  Mildred turned to Lizette and said, “If I may?”

  Lizette replied to the other Domme, her gaze never leaving his face. “Of course.”

  “I suggest he lay on the floor. A towel will afford some small measure of safety, just in case you miss your mark.”

  Lizette’s chest rose and fell through a few breaths. “I agree.” Her hands landed on his shoulders and slid down his chest in a slow slide. “I don’t want to mar this manscape.”

  He sucked in some air for himself, nerves pushing a few worries of his own. Her hands gripped his waist and turned him away from her.

  Again, the slide of her palms took a tour, this time down his back. “This will have to do. Do you trust me, Jake?”

  Despite his nerves, he replied easily. “Yes, Mistress.”

  She led him to the center of the room and he stretched out on his stomach. What the hell, he wore shirts all the time, rarely went topless, so a few scars wouldn’t be a problem. “Lift your head.” Lizette slipped a folded towel under his head and ruffled his hair when he rested on the makeshift pillow. The sweet caress dispelled a bit of his worry, enough to ensure he’d be rewarded well whether or not he was injured. Another towel was snapped open and draped across his bare back, then tucked under his torso.

  “Be very still, Jefferson, or there might not be a Wortham the forth.”

  Both Dommes laughed. He didn’t see the humor in the situation at all. Closing his eyes, he tried and failed at relaxation. Feet moved across the hardwood floors, the click of heels separating, and he heard the door open and close. Mildred had left them for their private game, he supposed. Or perhaps she’d gone to call the paramedics on the off chance the exercise went terribly wrong.