Enslaved (18 page)

“Yes, I’m yours,” she whispered. “I’m yours, Trevor. Fully.”

T
he invitation arrived on Trevor’s desk a few weeks later. It looked like a wedding invitation, if wedding invitations came in a glossy black with a pair of novelty mini-handcuffs in the envelope.

He called Elisabeth. His slave, his submissive. His love. “Come to my office, you’re going to want to see this.”

“Yes, sir. I’m still in my bathing suit, should I change or do you mind if I drip a little water on your desk?”

“Come as you are, but for heaven’s sake bring a towel this time.,” He laughed. “The male staff here are useless for a half hour after you walk by in your bathing suit.”

“I’ll be right there.”

She’d gotten so much better at actually listening to him, and talking with him about what she needed. Now when he asked her to come to him, she didn’t linger in the hopes of getting punished. She knew she’d get whipped to her heart’s content every night just for being a good slave. Sometimes on the weekends they visited WhipperSnapper in the city to allow for her exhibitionist streak.

But it looked like they’d be heading over to the club sooner than he’d planned.

“Here I am, sir, soaking wet as promised,” she announced, stepping into his office. She’d towel-dried herself off and wasn’t actually dripping on his floor.

“You don’t look soaking wet.”

“Well, I wasn’t talking about my bathing suit.” She grinned mischievously and his gaze drifted down her body to the delicious junction of her thighs.

“You’re getting me all distracted,” he chuckled. “Oh, before I forget, my accountant forwarded this letter to us, since you gave the money to that sober house in memory of your mother. I thought you might want to handle anything regarding that.”

“Yes!” She took the envelope, which bore his CPA’s return address, from his hand. Inside was another envelope, unopened, with a handwritten letter inside. She read quickly, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes. Look, you can read it. From the two million dollars you gave me to give to charity. I swear it felt like fake money when I was writing those checks and wiring funds, but seeing this, it makes it so . . . real.”

Forgive my handwriting, I’m not used to writing with a pen, but I couldn’t find an email address for you, whoever you are in charge of Maggie Anderson’s estate, that she gave so much money to help recovering addicts like me.

I just want to say that I hit rock bottom and couldn’t afford the program that is what finally got me clean and sober. They told me I got the entire fee waived because of the donation made in memory of Mrs. Maggie Anderson. I didn’t know Maggie, but she saved my life with that money. I was gonna die.

My kids are really glad to have me home. If I ever think about using again, I’m going to open up my Big Book, call my sponsor, pray to my higher power, and I’m gonna think about Maggie, because I know how she died. They told me. I don’t want to die like her, but I’m so grateful she gave me a chance to live.

Thank you, sorry to bother you with my ramblings. Just so grateful.

All my best,

Krystal B. (clean and sober going on 91 days)

Elisabeth was still smiling when he finished reading. “Can I keep that letter, sir?”

“Of course. It’s yours. And you can find as many charities as you want to donate to, we could have fund-raisers, even. Whatever you want. I like seeing you happy like this.”

She grinned. “So was that what you brought me to see? It sounded almost like an afterthought when I walked in.”

“Ah, no. This is what I wanted you to see. We’re invited to the collaring of Gregory’s slave Andrew.” He handed her the invitation, which she read carefully.

“Does that bother you, honey?” he asked. After all, she had been with her former Master for years.

Elisabeth had tears in her eyes when she looked up from the invitation.

“I shouldn’t have shown you, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. We don’t have to go.”

“No,” she said, blinking back the tears. “I really am . . . so happy for them. Happy for Gregory, that he finally found true love. I’m sure next year we’ll be getting their wedding invitation as well.”

“So you want to go?”

“Of course! We’ll get them a present, something that Gregory will get a kick out of.”

Trevor stepped around his desk and took the invitation from her. “Elisabeth, you know Roman and Marc were probably invited as well, since they’re regulars at the club. Are you okay with that?”

She paused. “You have to let Roman be in the same room as me at some point, Trevor. He’s your best friend, and I’m your fiancée. Both of you guys have to move forward.”

“If I asked Roman to not go, to keep things from being awkward, he’d understand. He’d stay home. It’s not like Gregory meant anything near to Roman as Gregory means to us. We should be at the collaring ceremony, but Roman doesn’t need to be.” He started to pull her into his arms, but she backed away. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want to get you all wet,” she whispered.

Trevor breathed deeply, a trait he’d learned from her. “I don’t like it when we talk about Roman and you become defensive and aloof.”

“I don’t mean to be, sir.”

“Fine. We’re going to the collaring ceremony, and so is Roman. It’ll be good for him to see us together, as a couple. Maybe it will help pound it into his thick skull that you and I are together. That you belong to no one but me.”

“He’ll be hurt. But yes, I think you’re right.” She smiled, the kind of smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Eyes that were glassy with tears again.

“Don’t back away from me. I don’t care if I get wet.” He pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in a bear hug. “I love you, Elisabeth. And I will do everything in my power to keep you, even if it means losing Roman.”

T
he night of Gregory and Andrew’s collaring ceremony, Elisabeth couldn’t stop fidgeting while Julian did his best to make her presentable before they left for the club.

“Girl, tap that foot one more time. I
dares
you,” he grumbled.

“Sorry, Julian.” She stopped tapping her foot. “I’m excited about tonight, but I’m kinda stressed out too.”

“You want some something? Little blue pill, maybe, to calm them nerves?”

The offer was tempting. Very tempting. “No, thanks,” she sighed. “I’m such a lightweight that I’d probably end up passing out and missing the collaring entirely.”

Julian laughed. “Then if I poke you in the eye with this mascara it is not my fault.”

“Gotcha.” She sat as still as possible, holding her breath, with Julian’s steady hand near her eyes.

“Voilà! My work here is done. You are going to upstage the bride.”

Elisabeth grinned, batting her eyelashes at herself in the mirror. While Julian didn’t quite understand the whole collaring thing, he did get that it was similar to a wedding ceremony between two men who were important to her. That he totally got.

“Text me when it’s over. I want to know what the boys wore, everything. I love me a happy ending.”

“In more ways than one,” she joked.

A sharp rap on the door interrupted their laughter. “Knock, knock!” came a chirping voice behind her dressing room door.

“Come in, Adele,” Elisabeth called.

The woman was even nicer to her than before since Elisabeth had been moved out of the Pink Room and into Trevor’s suite. Now that Adele knew that Elisabeth was here to stay.

“Trevor requests your presence downstairs immediately, as he put it. You don’t want to be late to the party, right?” She grinned brightly, her overly white teeth shining.

“Ah, yes, the . . . party. I’ll come down right now.” Elisabeth got up and smoothed her halter top and leather miniskirt. How did Trevor maintain his lifestyle without everyone knowing his business, like they did in Roman’s house? “Thanks a million, Julian. You’re a magic maker.”

He blew her a kiss and winked. “Go on now, say hi to the boys at the
party
for me.”

She took off her stilettos at the top of the stairs and ran down with them in hand, holding on to the newel post at the bottom of the banister for balance as she quickly slipped the heels back on. Perfect.

Trevor came into the front hall and grinned. “Gorgeous, as always. Carl is waiting for us out front.”

In the backseat of the town car, Elisabeth snuggled in next to Trevor’s muscular chest. “Will we have a collaring ceremony, sir?”

He paused. “I’d like to have a private one, just you and me. When we have our wedding, that will be public. And unlike every other wedding here in New York, we will not be removing the part of the vows that say you will honor and obey.”

She laughed. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Are you nervous about Roman?” he asked.

Yes.
“No,” she murmured. “Are you?”

“I don’t know. I suppose I just hate to see him with that look on his face.”

Elisabeth knew the look he was talking about. Envy. Sorrow.

“Maybe we should try and focus on the most important thing. My former Master is collaring his new slave. It’s a big deal for him and Andrew, and for us, too. I’m excited to be there for them.”

Carl pulled up in front of the club, which had a huge line of people outside the velvet rope, even though Elisabeth knew there wouldn’t be that many people inside. They liked to keep people waiting to make the place seem even more exclusive.

Trevor handed his invitation to the bouncer, although he didn’t need to. Everyone knew him, Roman, and Marc at the club. They never waited in a line.

“Welcome back, man,” the bouncer said, and nodded respectfully to Elisabeth.

“Thanks,” Trevor slipped the bouncer a bill when they shook hands. She had to say, Trevor knew how to tip.

Inside, WhipperSnapper was a lot more crowded than she’d expected. Word must have gotten out that there’d be a collaring tonight. Everyone was a romantic at heart, it seemed.

Gregory looked great, wearing dark slacks and a fitted T-shirt that showed off all the working out he’d been doing lately, getting in shape. It must be Andrew’s good influence on him. Gregory certainly hadn’t tried to look sexually attractive for her when she was his sub. But then again, why would he?

“Hello, sir,” she greeted him. “Where’s Andrew?”

Gregory sighed. “I think he’s hiding in the bathroom. Can you check on him?”

“Men’s room or ladies’?” It would have been an odd question to ask anywhere but here, perhaps.

Gregory laughed. “Men’s. He’s pure male, that one. But I don’t think he’d mind if you poked your head in and checked on him.” Gregory cocked his head and paused. “That is, if you have Trevor’s permission.”

Nodding appreciatively at the show of respect, Trevor smacked her on the ass and sent her in the direction of the men’s room. “Drag him out, sweetie. It’s time.”

Her excitement caught in her throat. Roman stood next to Marc and Mistress Lauren, and he watched her and Trevor’s interaction with a cold stare Elisabeth knew masked his pain.

But tonight wasn’t about her or Roman or Trevor. It was a night for Gregory and Andrew. She walked resolutely past the group, smiling demurely in their direction so there was no snub involved per se, and knocked on the men’s room door.

“Andrew? Can I come in?”

“Yes.”

He was staring at himself in the mirror.

Elisabeth smiled. “You look so fucking cute. Trust me, if anyone can pull off the virgin twink look, it’s you.” No shirt and skinny jeans that would contrast perfectly with the new black leather collar he’d soon be wearing.

Andrew finally turned away from the mirror and smiled at her. “Thank you.”

“Pre-collaring jitters?”

Andrew started to shake his head no, but must have thought better of it. “I guess I’m freaked out because you’ve been through this. With Gregory. He collared you, and you were his, and then he just . . . gave you away when someone else came along. What if he does that with me?”

“He didn’t give me away, he set me free so we could both find what we deserved. And it wasn’t just someone else that came along, it was
you
. You’re the one he’s meant to be with, not me. I’m so grateful that he took such good care of me and delivered me into the hands of a Dom who could love me the way I deserve to be loved.”