Enraptured (7 page)

Jessica wiped her fingers discreetly on her bikini bottom and looked up to see Roman staring at her with . . . lust. Oh my God.

His cock was hard. She could see the thick ridge of it pushing against his jeans.

“I think we all enjoyed your spanking,” Roman said, and she turned her head. He’d caught her looking at his erection. But, he’d just watched her touch her wet pussy, so perhaps they were even.

“Thank you, Mistress Lauren, for a very good first experience,” Jessica said. “And thank you, Marc, for allowing her to do that with me.”

Roman raised his eyebrows, and she felt the urge to drop to her knees in front of him. She knew they all thought she was so innocent, but she was new to the world of kink, not men. If he’d let her, she’d love to help him out with his very fat, hard cock.

“You’re licking your lips,” Roman said. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing, sir.” Jessica smiled. “Oh, thank you, sir, for hosting us.”

“You’re welcome. I’d love to have you over again sometime soon. I think you’d enjoy learning more about what you’re capable of under the experienced hands of Mistress Lauren, don’t you?”

Did she? Yes. Definitely. “Okay.”

“Say, yes, sir.”

“Yes, sir.”

Roman smiled at her. “Come tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow works for me,” Lauren said, and Marc nodded, rubbing his shaved head, his muscled biceps bulging.

“I . . . I can’t. I have to work.” Damn. It would be nice not be broke for once. The luxurious gourmet kitchen around her gleamed, in stark contrast to the microwave and mini-fridge in her own nonexistent kitchen.

“Work? You mean at WhipperSnapper?” Marc asked, and waved his hand, as if to say it didn’t matter.

“I need the paycheck,” she muttered.

Was it just her, or did some sort of secret look pass between the two men? Mentioning her lack of money probably just set their “gold-digger” radar off. Not what she’d intended at all, especially after Marc’s comment in the car.

“I want my Lauren to be happy,” Marc said. “And you, sweetheart, have made her very happy today.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I want Mistress Lauren to be happy too—but I can’t afford to not go to work.”

“How much do you need?” he asked.

“What?” Was Marc Wilde actually asking her what her living expenses were? How personal. Then again, he was asking her to take off work so his fiancée could dominate her, and that was pretty personal too. In a good way.

“Whatever you make in a month, I’ll pay it,” Marc said. “Then you won’t have to worry about your bills.”

Her first instinct was to go for it. But . . . “I wish I could, I really do. But if I take off work for a month, they’ll replace me.”

Marc shrugged and looked at Lauren. “Okay, we’ll consider this your engagement present, honey.” To Jessica, he said, “How about if I cover the rest of the year? Surely you can find another job that suits you in the new year.”

Holy moly. “That’s like fifteen grand,” she said.

She thought he’d laugh and tell her to forget it, but instead he looked relieved.

“Oh that’s not bad!” he laughed. “I’m getting off easy. Fifteen grand it is.”

Roman stepped forward. “Actually, Marc, I’d like to offer Jessica the money. We can use my dungeon. My dungeon, my money.”

Marc frowned. “My fiancée, my money.”

“Let’s discuss this in the other room,” Roman interrupted, and the two men left the kitchen, Marc’s shorts riding low on his hips.

“Um, were they actually arguing about who gets to fork over fifteen thousand dollars?” Jessica asked Lauren.

Lauren looked as surprised as she did. “I do believe they were. How do you feel about that? Marc didn’t even ask you if you were up for it.”

“You noticed that too, huh?” Jessica laughed. “I like working at WhipperSnapper. And how can I take so much money from someone I barely know? What if things don’t work out and you decide you don’t want me around anymore?”

“The money would be yours, of course,” Lauren said. “That’s how tributes work.”

“Tributes?”

Lauren nodded. “Before Marc and I got together, I paid my expenses with tributes—money or gifts that the slaves I played with gave me. They didn’t have to pay me anything, and plenty didn’t. Some are wealthy and chose to give me money so I had more time to spend with them.” Lauren paused, as if she could see the question forming in Jessica’s mind. “But I wasn’t prostituting myself. It wasn’t money in exchange for sex. I gave freely of my time, doing whatever I wanted, and then they chose to give me gifts. Like Marc just did. See?”

Jessica frowned. “I guess. But why did Roman offer to pay, then?”

“Roman likes pretty girls,” Lauren said succinctly. “He’s getting over some drama and his favorite way to do that is to be in control of everything around him, including who pays for what. If the group is involved in something new—you—I’m not surprised that he wants it to be in his own house, and by his own rules.”

“Should I accept?” She liked the idea of meeting at Roman’s house, even though both she and Lauren lived in the city. It would give her an excuse to see Roman often. And that idea definitely appealed.

“I’m a little biased,” Lauren laughed. “Of course, I want you to accept. That way we can play!”

Jessica grinned. “All right. Thank you.”

Elisabeth ran into the kitchen then, her towel tied sexily around her waist like a sarong. “Hey girls,” she said, opening the huge double-door stainless steel refrigerator. “I’m stealing orange juice to make cocktails. Don’t tell Roman.”

“Don’t tell Roman what?” Roman asked from the kitchen doorway.

Jessica had to laugh. At least it wasn’t her getting snuck up on this time.

“We desperately need your orange juice,” Elisabeth said, and grabbed a pitcher out of the fridge. “If that’s okay, I mean?”

“Well, if it’s that desperate, I can accommodate,” Roman said, nodding.

There was some weirdness between them. Elisabeth looked very comfortable in Roman’s house, but uncomfortable around Roman. Was it because he’d trained her?

“Jessica,” Roman said, and pulled out his checkbook. “Marc has kindly agreed to allow me to offer you the money, so you can come here and train with Lauren in my well-equipped dungeon. It really is better than the setup Marc has.”

Marc shrugged. “Only because I’m not as freaky as you, man.”

Roman seemed to take it as a compliment, though, and just nodded.

Lauren stood up and gave Jessica a hug. “What do you say? Ready to give up the nine-to-five for some hedonistic fun?”

Her body was as warm as her smile, even more so in the chilly kitchen. How could she say no to that?

“Okay,” she grinned. “Let’s do it.”

Roman already had the check written out to Jessica. “Here you go,” he said. “This should cover your expenses for the rest of the year. I’ll let the club know you won’t be coming back for a while.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said, taking the check from him. “But won’t they be mad at me?”

“No. The club wants to keep us happy. We’re big clients of theirs.”

Jessica thought about how the BAD Boys often came in to play, but then again, so did a lot of people.

“They own the club,” Lauren said, and Marc spanked her quickly on the ass. “Ouch! Sorry, but I had to tell her. Otherwise she’d be worried about her job the whole time.”

“No one knows the Brooks Wilde Chase Fund owns WhipperSnapper. Even our investors aren’t aware of the exact nature of that holding because it’s under another name,” Marc said. He looked annoyed.

“Sorry, Marc, but she deserved to know,” Lauren said again.

Roman nodded. “Well, do you feel better now, Jessica, now that you know?”

“I do,” she said. “I feel a lot better, actually. Thank you.” She looked down at the check in her hand. “Sir, I think you made a mistake—this is for too much.”

“I don’t make mistakes like that,” Roman said. “The club wasn’t paying you enough if you couldn’t afford to eat the food you sold. I’ve given you a raise.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Jessica said, “thank you, very much.”

Elisabeth was still standing by the fridge, holding the pitcher of orange juice in one hand. “Jessica, may I speak with you please?”

Jessica looked at her in surprise, having almost forgotten she was there. Was this wrong? Did she fail some sort of test? “Sure,” she said, and set the check on the granite countertop, wondered if she should leave it there, then picked it up again. There was nowhere to put it. “I need to go get my clothes from the cabana anyway.”

“Good, you can join me for some juice.” Elisabeth followed her out of the kitchen.

Jessica held the check in her hand and quickly folded it so the obscenely large number on it was hidden. Did Elisabeth know about tributes? Or did she think that Jessica had just done something bad?

“Honey, please don’t take this the wrong way,” Elisabeth said, and Jessica felt her stomach churn. That was the worst way to start off a conversation.

“Okay.” She headed toward the cabana, feeling the need to clothe herself. She’d had enough of being nearly naked for the day.

“I was like you, broker than you, probably, when I met Trevor,” Elisabeth said, closing the cabana door behind them. Her huge diamond ring flashed on her hand. “I know firsthand how easy it is to get blinded by the billionaire lifestyle. These guys throw around money like it’s nothing. When I complained to Trevor about that, he gave me two million to donate to the charity of my choice.”

Jessica’s jaw dropped. “Two million dollars?” That kind of money was unthinkable to her.

“Yeah. So I think you can understand that however many zeros are on the check Roman just handed you, it’s not a big deal to him.”

“Okay,” Jessica said. “So if it’s no big deal, that’s good, right?”

“No. Because it is a big deal to you. I can see it in your eyes.” Elisabeth handed Jessica her sundress, and she quickly pulled it on over her suit.

“I’m not after anyone’s money, Elisabeth. I mean that. I don’t know how to make you believe that, but it’s true,” Jessica whispered. “I feel weird about this whole thing.”

“You feel weird about it because you just sold yourself for—” Elisabeth grabbed the check from Jessica’s fist. The move surprised her so much that she just let the piece of paper go without a word. “For forty thousand dollars. You’ve sold yourself.”

“It didn’t sound like I was selling myself when we were all in the kitchen,” Jessica said, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. “Lauren gave me a hug and everything.”

“I’m telling you this for your own good. Don’t shoot the messenger,” Elisabeth said, and handed her back the check. “Look, Roman is used to completely dominating women. I’ve been trained by him. I know his methods. Are you willing to be in debt to Roman? Roman, not Lauren. Even if he acts like it’s a gift and not a debt?”

“Oh my God,” Jessica said, and sat down on the teak stool in the changing room. “I don’t know. I don’t want to be in debt to anyone.”

“Then you shouldn’t accept his money. Just go to work at the club and see Lauren when your schedule allows.”

“But that’s the thing, my schedule doesn’t allow that.” Jessica looked at the check in her hand, at the money that could change everything for her. “I’m skipping sleep to be here today, and I have to work tonight. I can’t do that all the time, I’ll turn into a zombie.”

“Do what you want to do.” Elisabeth stood and picked the orange juice back up. “Just go into this with open eyes, that’s all I ask. Don’t think this isn’t going to obligate you to Roman. Sooner or later, he’s going to find a way to get you to pay him back.”

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” Jessica said. “Roman’s a great guy.”

“Well, I’ve never heard him described that way by anyone who doesn’t know him,” Elisabeth chuckled. “So maybe you know him better than I thought. Just . . . be careful. That’s all.”

“I will.”

Elisabeth left the cabana, leaving Jessica alone to think about what had just happened. But the walls were thin, and she could easily hear what Elisabeth murmured on her way out the door.

“Hope you like to be tortured.”

Jessica put her head between her knees, and breathed.

Chapter Five

R
oman sat alone in his living room, grateful for the calm after everyone had gone home.

It had been an interesting party. The guest of honor had really done an outstanding job.

Jessica looked incredible lying over Mistress Lauren’s lap, getting that spanking. Her moans and little kicks of her naked legs had been so sweet. He had to experience that for himself. Lauren clearly could tell he was interested, or she wouldn’t have suggested he spank her new sub.

But why had Jessica declined? She had said, quite distinctly, “Don’t let Roman spank me.”

Roman groaned. Maybe he’d freaked her out by telling her he was a sadist. But he couldn’t help that, it was part of him. Still, anyone who’d been spanked by him—and there were a lot out there—would agree that he never pushed them past what they could take. Women rarely safeworded with him, because he carefully monitored their reactions to make sure they were having as exquisite an experience as he was.

Still, her rejection stung. But why? She was just a girl. A silly, pretty girl. And way too young for him, surely.

And yet . . . she’d agreed to come back to his house. She’d accepted his money, a substantial sum. Well, to her at least. So she was interested, in BDSM if not in him.

But if Lauren trained Jessica under his own roof, in his dungeon . . . then he’d have plenty of chances to find out how kinky she really was. And maybe Lauren would throw him a bone and offer Jessica the opportunity to be taken in hand by him at another time.

The image of Jessica, sweet Jessica, bound, naked, and cuffed to the wall of his dungeon flashed through his mind. His mansion was the epitome of modern luxury and design, but the dungeon was a purposeful nod to an older era. An era where real dungeons existed, and not those cheerfully called “playrooms” by the kinky-lite set. Yes, he went to his dungeon to play. But it was also the heart of his home.

It was where he’d fallen for Elisabeth.

No. Don’t think about her. No need to think about her. That’s over.