Everything He Wants (6 page)

"But how can you tell the difference?"

"Usually you can't, not unless you watch them play. A sub who enjoys her Dom’s company and impact play will lean into the strikes, whereas a sub who's mistreated will flinch away from them. Even if a sub is a total pain slut, if she's not feeling in the mood, her Dom would never pressure her, not unless he feels it won't push her limits."

"And what are those limits?"

"Depends on the sub. For example, if I were to invite you into one of the play rooms back at
The Limelight
, what's the one thing you'd absolutely refuse to do?"

"I...I'm not sure." I wrung my hands in my lap.

"And that's okay." Logan reached for my hand, taking it in his as he spoke. "Those new to the lifestyle have no idea what they'll like. An experienced Dom knows this and will respect it, taking things only as far as the sub will allow."

"But this is a total power exchange, isn't it?"

"It can be, but most subs are given safe words. If she says one of those, play stops immediately. Any Dom that doesn't adhere to this rule isn't one we want inside
The Limelight
."

"Sounds nice."

"It can be. The safe words are a sub’s safety net. Here." He urged me to get out of his lap so he could stand up. "I think now is the perfect time for some tea."

I laughed at that, and after grabbing a robe from inside my closet, I followed him down the hall, turning on lights as we went. He stopped at one point to pull his boxers on, then joined me in the kitchen.

"What’s your poison?" I asked, opening the cabinet.

"Actually, I’d like to try the kind you make whenever I come over, if you have any left."

"I always keep extra on hand. This may sound silly, but every single one of my clients has a different flavor."

"And I’m assuming every flavor reflects the kind of person he is?"

"Pretty much."

"Interesting." He picked up the box of orange spice and turned it over to read the back. "So I’m...spicy?"

"Mysterious. I couldn’t place you, just like I could never place the tea. I mean, I know it’s orange, but then again, it isn’t." I shrugged. "Sounded like a good idea at the time."

"Sounds delicious."

As we waited for the water to boil, we made the usual small talk most couples do. Only with Logan, everything he said intrigued me. He was a lawyer for one of the largest firms in the city, but he was also a well-respected Dom. Knowing he was both of these things, I couldn’t begin to imagine how he juggled both personas without getting them confused.

"When did you know?" I asked. "About being a Dom, I mean."

"Early twenties. I had my suspicions, but at the time, I had no idea what to call it. And when my parents noticed my particular knack, they suggested law school."

"Do you always do what your parents say?"

"Of course not. It just turns out they were right. Fish meet water."

"I guess so."

"What about you? How did you ever get into the escort business?"

"It happened on a whim. I needed the money and noticed an ad. I didn’t answer it, but after I got the idea in my head, it wouldn’t let me go."

The tea kettle whistled then, and Logan turned off the stove before plopping a tea bag along with some water into his mug. I did the same and hugged the mug between my hands.

"Tell you what. Stop seeing these other men of yours, and I’ll cover you for whatever you need."

I set my mug on the counter. "But that's how I make my living..."

"Do you enjoy it? I'm giving you an out."

"To be your personal play thing."

"No. I would never objectify you. You said it yourself, I was the only one who treated you as a person—with respect. That won't change, and if for any reason this isn't for you, you can back out."

"Do we need to...would I have to do what I saw tonight?"

"No. Not until you're ready. Listen, give it some thought. When you feel you're ready, you can visit me. I think it’s about time, don’t you?"

I swallowed hard. "You’re still staying the night, right?"

Logan smiled and removed the tea bag from his mug. "Of course. I’ll stay for as long as you need."

"Thank you."

"But if we're going to continue down this path, you should probably know my name."

I lifted my gaze, confused. "I thought I did."

"Stage name. While Devlin and Marisa know both my names, I have one for the stage to keep my personal life safe, and only out myself to those I know I can trust. Keeping two names is how some Doms keep personal life and their D/s life separate."

"So Logan isn't your name?"

"Master Logan is the man you saw on stage tonight. However, the man in your kitchen?" He sipped at his tea. "Jake Evans."

I grinned and held out my hand. "Kira Thorn."

"This tea is amazing, by the way," he said, shaking my hand.

"Don't I know it."

Jake set his mug out of the way and pulled me into his arms. He stroked my hair and pressed a hand against the small of my back. I had him for one whole night. More if I needed it. Looking back on everything that had happened throughout the day, his invitation to meet him at his place became even more appealing.

Maybe getting away from this is just what you need.
I’d give it until morning and make my decision then. But deep down, I already knew my answer.

T
he first time I’d ever been to a mansion, it belonged to my previous employer. But it didn’t compare to Jake’s place. Standing not a foot from my car, I shrunk under the shadows of the building as it climbed above the trees. I had no words for what it was, but at that very moment, I felt small. So very, very small.

I double-checked the napkin Jake gave me in case I had the wrong address.
This can't be it.
There was no way a lawyer could afford a mansion.

I squinted at the numbers hanging beside the front door. They matched the numbers I held in my hand.
You should've come with him. Maybe then you wouldn't feel so out of place.

Since our evening at
The Limelight
, I'd given myself a few days before considering his offer as a personal companion. It meant giving up my life as an escort, which, trust me, was a good thing. But it also meant depending on someone else for support, and that was something I'd never been very good at.

This explains why he has no problem offering you a room.
Or two. Or three. Hell, he probably planned on giving me half his house.
There's no way he lives here alone.
Every millionaire—billionaire?—has staff.

I winced at that.

He told you the lifestyle would take some getting used to.

Yeah, but I thought he was talking about being his sub not...this.

Whatever this is.

Swallowing around my nerves, I rang the doorbell. The crisp morning breeze tussled my hair, blowing it in my face as the door started to open. I sucked in a breath before my jaw had a chance to hit the floor.

"Oh good, you made it," Jake said, leaning against the doorframe.

Decked out to the nines, his dark suit and red tie matched the little I could see behind him. His eyes softened, like he was waiting for me to finish my initial inspection before bringing me back to reality.

That house—
his
house—was a dream. Memories from my childhood, but not this. Not now. I'd spent years imagining what it would be like to live in a large house. Of all the great places I could hide. And for a few short seconds, I had that excitement again.

Until I realized where I was. Until I remembered who was standing in front of me.

"Made it
where
?" I asked, shivering more from the size of the building than the air gusting around me.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it." He gestured for me to step inside. "Surprised to see me?"

I ducked into the foyer and removed my jacket with his help. "Yes...I mean, you live here?"

Jake turned to hang up my jacket then faced me again. "As much as time allows, yes."

My vision swept around the entryway, taking in the sheer size of it all. I glanced back at him. "Alone?"

"You mean, do I have other subs?"

"No...I mean..." I lowered my voice. "Staff."

He laughed and invited me to follow him down the hall. "Man, for a woman who doesn't like being treated like an object..." he trailed off and smiled. "For now, I live alone."

The hall opened up to an even larger room. Standing at one end, it was almost as if I'd stepped into a children's book. Everything was so big. And shiny. And, well...big.

If I thought the outside was foreboding, the inside was unbelievable. My stomach twisted, and I reached for Jake's hand.

He took my hand in his. "I admit, it's a tad overwhelming."

Once I found my voice, possibly hidden under one of the red rugs, I said, "Kind of drafty, don't you think?"

"It can be, but I don't really visit the upstairs much." He took a step forward. Followed by another, and another.

I tried to ignore how loud our footsteps were as he slowly led me into the front room. "You don't sleep here?"

"When I can, which isn't nearly as often as I'd like." He paused, possibly to admire the arched ceiling with its dimmed lights and crystalline chandeliers.

The ceiling reached the whole way, up past what appeared to be the third floor. As far as I could tell, the room we were in led to every other room in the house. Polished railings surrounded the area above us, and as I studied the long halls on the second and even the third floor, I realized they all came together in the same place. The stairs.

Shaking off my chills, I studied the marble steps to my left, which immediately reminded me of a scene from
Beauty and the Beast
. "You're the beast, then..."

"Hmm?" He followed my gaze.

"The staircase? The fireplace over there..." I pointed off to our right.

He rested a hand on his hip. "You know, I never even thought of it like that before. You've got a great eye, but I hope I'm more charming than the beast."

I smirked. "He was charming in his own way."

Jake threw his hands in the air. "Great, now I get to compete with a cartoon." He ran a hand through his brown curls. "So, you want the three-hour tour or just the necessities?"

"Three hours?"
Is it really that big?

"Well, if we do things my way...it would probably take days."

His wicked smile wasn't lost on me. "If by tour you mean having sex in every room..."

"Ahh, you catch on fast. Good. Come to think of it, I haven't christened the west wing yet."

"Is that a movie reference, or are you for real?"

"You never know. Try to find the magic rose, and you'll find out."

It was surprisingly warm in the lower level, and even as my heels clicked on the polished marble, it didn't feel nearly as empty as it looked. The fireplace glowed with orange flame, throwing light to the farthest corners of the room. It may have been open, but in its own way, it was enchanting.

Jake could've furnished his mansion with the usual, but from what I could see, every chair—hell, even the sofa—was leather.

"Black leather?" I asked, running my hand over the smooth surface.

"To match the décor, of course."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "And you did this all yourself?"

"Hey, just because I'm a Dom, that doesn't mean I don't have good taste in furniture."

"Uh huh." I looked back at the staircase that serpentined up and around the room. "So, do I need to run a marathon every time I want to have sex, or what?"

Jake laughed. "Thirty."

"Thirty what?"

"Steps. Well, to reach the top floor, that is. But to be honest, it isn't as bad as it looks. You can even take two of them at a time."

"Okay, Mr. Long-legs. What about those of us who are closer to the ground?"

His grin widened. "Not close enough for me, babe." Jake tugged gently on my hair until I caught on. He cleared his throat when I glared at him. "Besides, we have a downstairs as well. Care to see my dungeon?"

"Seriously? As in chains, cages, and stuff?"

"Oh heavens no! I don't do the cages. Pet play—not really my thing." He shivered then, but I couldn't decide if it was an involuntary reaction or some more theatrics. "Chains, however, those we do have. And cuffs."

"And balls?"

Jake puffed out his chest. "Those too."

Somehow we'd gone from small talk in his living room to sexual innuendos by the time we reached what I assumed was the kitchen. It’s hard to say when I stopped paying attention to the furnishings or whatever frames he had hanging on the walls, but the only thing I was interested in looking at now was him.

His worn hands. The tie coming loose from around his neck. He'd invited me here as a companion, or in his case, a sub, but he was averting his gaze away from me as much as I was from him.

I looked at him. Met his fierce eyes. 

When neither of us broke eye contact, I spoke. "It really doesn't bother you, does it? The size."

"Oh, size still matters," Jake replied.

"You know what I mean. All this space doesn't bother you?"

"Not really, no." He stared at the floor. Looked at me again. "I kind of section parts of the house off so it feels smaller than it actually is."

"And what about the echo?" I shuddered when the click of my heels bounced off the surrounding walls.

"Again, not nearly as bad as it could be if I left most of the rooms open. I've tried covering the walls the best I can to make it homier but...there's only so much I can do."

"I suppose putting a drop ceiling in the main room wouldn't really work, huh?"

He crossed his arms over his chest and pressed his back against the wall. "Imagine that, a woman who knows a thing or two about construction. See? I can use clichés, too."

"Okay, fine. You know how to decorate. But you still haven't answered my question."

"Putting in a drop ceiling wouldn't really mesh well with that staircase you were ogling earlier. Besides, the lights are above the third floor. Not sure how we'd see anything with a drop ceiling in the way." He paused to open a door beyond the kitchen. "Shall we?"