Lyon on a Leash (3 page)

“That’s true. She swears this is her last time. But we’ve heard that before with baby number two,” Marguerite said in a gleeful whisper.

Vera laughed in agreement. Drina had married right after college and started a family. With each pregnancy, she would cuss and swear she would never get pregnant again.

“Tell her I’ll be coming to see my babies as soon as I get things settled at home. Make sure you kiss them for me, Margie.”

“Will do and be careful. There’s all kinds of crazy things in New York.”

“Okay.” Vera shook her head, wondering what Marguerite thought she’d do. Not that Vera would ask. The auction and bidding on one of the hunks would keep her occupied until she left town. Butterflies filled her stomach at thought of the auction, along with the possibility of having a relationship with a new man. She rubbed her palms against the seat as she bit her lower lip. With a start, she realized Marguerite was still talking.

“Listen, don’t forget to reel him in. Start tonight. The auction is for charity but most people use it as a hook-up service with great results. A lot of us who connected at an auction are still together. Make the most of it and let him see early on what he stands to lose if he doesn’t accept a contract with you.”

“Margie…you know I don’t do unenforceable contracts.” Vera rubbed her forehead, wanting the conversation to be over, yet the need to talk with someone who didn’t think buying your next lover at an auction wasn’t insane compelled her to continue.

“Hmph, you lawyers.” Marguerite sighed long and loud.

“There’s not a piece of paper that’s strong enough to keep someone who wants to leave,” Vera stated in a no-nonsense tone. Experience was an expensive teacher, especially if you didn’t learn your lessons the first time. Her grandmother, who had been the glue that held Vera’s family together, had died during her freshman year of college. Vera’s father had died in prison a few years before her grandma passed, and she’d never known her biological mom. Everyone who’d meant anything to her had left by the time she’d met Drina and Marguerite.

“I’m not going to argue with you, but you’re wrong. There’s a psychological element to the contract. If you don’t have that, you have to make sure you do something that binds him to you in a primitive way. After you pick him, honor him. You know the drill. He needs to know how special he is to you, up front. Rope him in and lock him down.”

Vera chuckled at the cowgirl image Marguerite’s words evoked. “Work his mind. I know the drill.” Marguerite’s training had been drummed into her for years.

“Men are visually stimulated. I know you’re all dolled up, so make him feel it’s for him. Dance for him, play with him, just keep your attention focused on him so he’ll understand how much you appreciate him. There’s gonna be times when you may not say it, so let him see it now, in front of every other man in the room. Make him wanna beat his chest in pride. You can give that to him. It don’t cost anything more to show him you value his submission. But you’ll reap the benefits for a long time.”

“Okay—” Vera rolled her eyes as Marguerite interrupted.

“Most Dommes don’t give this little extra,” Marguerite continued. “Hell, with the shortage of female Dominants it may not even be necessary. But beneath his submissive skin beats the solid heart of a man. When I teach a class, I always advise to validate your submissive’s worth when you first accept him and if you do it right, you’ll never have to go to great lengths to re-assure him again. After all, he’s an extension of you to a certain point. Most importantly, he’ll know what you’re capable of and that’s what he’ll reflect on when things get tough.”

“I’ll handle it and him,” Vera said with a confidence she hoped was real. A fine sheen of sweat coated her skin just from listening to all the things Marguerite wanted her to do. She loved Marguerite and appreciated her advice, but a lot of the wooing and laying it on him sounded fake to her. When she chose her submissive, she’d wait to see how he made her feel and then act on those feelings. It wasn’t in her nature to put on a show for the sake of putting it on.

“I didn’t spend all this money to come up empty,” Vera said, hoping her voice had the right amount of sass mixed with bravado. It wouldn’t do for Marguerite to realize her hands shook so badly she had them balled tight in her lap.

“I know that’s right.”

Vera smiled at the older woman’s attempt to sound hip, the operative word being
tried
. “Anyway, vanilla dates didn’t work. It’s going to feel great knowing everyone in the room is into some measure of kink. I can breathe again.”

“What made you try vanilla for the past four years?”

“Because I’d never dated in high school and just the little bit in college after Drina and I started rooming together. I figured I needed to go that route, especially with my job. I tried it. It didn’t work. Guys play too many games, guessing what they wanted got old real fast. Plus, most of the men I dated were so into themselves, we clashed.” She shrugged. “Now I know vanilla relationships don’t work for me. I’m not missing anything.” Vera drummed her fingertips on the seat as she looked out at the bright lights of the city.

“I could’ve told you that. I’m pretty sure I did,” Marguerite murmured. “Anyway, one of my friends, Mistress Em, is going to be there. I asked her to look for you. She’s good people. A little stuffy, has a sweet tooth, and the padding to prove it. But she’s dependable in a pinch.”

Marguerite always looked out for her. It didn’t matter that Vera had just turned thirty. She smiled. “Yes, Mom.”

When she and Drina had become roommates during their sophomore year, it hadn’t taken a lot of prodding to discover Vera was practically an orphan. From that day, Marguerite and Drina always included her in their plans.

Vera had been shocked when she’d discovered Marguerite was a highly sought-after professional Dominatrix. With Spanish, Irish, and African bloodlines in her DNA, Marguerite was an exotic and beautiful woman who turned fantasies into realities. She knew men and women in every position of power.

Vera was even more shocked when Marguerite had offered to train her and Drina to work in the business. Drina hated it. Vera, on the other hand, flourished under Marguerite’s guidance. She’d taken to the profession like a seasoned pro and worked for Marguerite her senior year of college and all through law school. When she’d graduated from Georgetown, before heading south to Atlanta with her law degree, she had no outstanding debts, a solid financial portfolio, and a decent amount in savings.

Marguerite laughed. “Mock me all you want, but someone has to look after you. If you had secured a submissive after you graduated like I suggested, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” She paused. “Choose wisely. This man will be an intricate part of your life. Knowing you, he’ll be the only man in your life. Oh yeah, you can cuss all you want, but no fighting. It’s not ladylike. And I raised you to be a lady at all times. That’s all for now.” The line disconnected.

Vera shook her head at Marguerite’s determination to always have the last word. Next, she placed a call to her legal assistant, Amy.

“Hello? Vera, are you there? In New York?” Amy asked.

“Yeah, just called to let you know I’m here and everything’s okay.” The limo slowed to a crawl, and Vera looked out the window. Tall buildings with the impressive addresses came into view.

“Okay, I hope you enjoy this time with your family and don’t think about work here at the law office for another week. You haven’t had a vacation in years. You are way overdue.”

A niggle of guilt ran through Vera over the lie she’d told about her vacation plans. She squelched it, knowing she still wouldn’t share that part of her life with anyone at work. They were associates, not friends.

“Thanks, Amy. I’m here at the place. I’ll talk to you later. Don’t let them overwork you, that’s my job.”

Amy laughed. “I know. Take care.”

The car stopped in front of a large building. Vera leaned forward, her nose a tip away from the glass as she looked around. When the driver stepped out, Vera did a quick sniff near her armpits.

She was good.

While he grabbed her luggage, she rubbed her hand down her stomach as though that’d squash the jitters in her belly. It didn’t. She looked in the mirror to freshen her lipstick. She combed trembling fingers through her hair. Clasping her hands, she held them still for a moment, took a breath, and then she tugged on the hem of her dress as the door opened.

“Thank you.” She spoke, reining in the quiver in her voice while looking up at the address on the building. “Are you assigned to me this week or will it be someone else?” She swung her gaze back to him.

“Would you care for me to act as your personal driver during your stay?”

“Yes. That would make things easier….” She glanced at the name tag of the short, round man. “Charles.”

He smiled. “Let’s get you inside and I’ll make a call.”

Nodding, she walked steadily to the doorman and gave him her name. “Vera Knight for Madame Chertier.” She was relieved to hear that her voice sounded confident, strong.

The doorman nodded and waved to someone behind him. “Ms. Knight to the ninth floor.”

“This way, ma’am.”

Vera glanced back at Charles, who beamed as he returned to her side. “It’s all taken care of, Ms. Knight. Here is my card. Just call me when you’re ready to go to your hotel. If you’d like, I’ll hold on to your luggage.”

A ping of alarm ran through her. She didn’t know him and until the airlines delivered her other suitcases, this was all she had.
What if
—
stop
. This internal rant was ridiculous. There was no reason to think he’d do anything weird or lose her things.

Swallowing hard, she offered a smile she was nowhere near feeling. “Thanks, Charles. I’ll call you when we’re ready to leave.” With stiff fingers, she released the handle into his care. Her grip tightened around her purse and briefcase as she turned and followed the quiet man to the elevator.
Remember, it’s time to take control and shape my life the way I want.
Those words rang in the back of her mind, offering solace against clanging sirens screaming “run, don’t walk” back to her home in Atlanta, where she’d be safe.

When the door opened on the ninth floor gallery, Vera forgot her fear as she gasped at the exquisite explosion of colors and artwork. Thick, heavy burgundy, gold, and cream fabrics swooped across the high beams, drawing her eyes to the murals painted on the ceiling. The décor offered a vague reminder of her grandmother’s house in rural Missouri. The heavy drapes and bold wall colors all catapulted her back to a time when things were…more simple.

Gold wall sconces, glowing brilliantly, graced the sides of the room, creating a cozy, elegant feel. The walls held beautiful pictures and showcased magnificent sculptures that were a feast for her eyes and fed her soul. Every inch of her grandmother’s walls had been filled with pictures of family, friends, and store-bought images she had admired. A rush of longing for the strong woman who’d raised her from an infant swept through her.

Sensing she could reconnect to her past in some obscure way, she longed to linger and take a closer look at each piece, but she was already late. Perhaps later tonight, or another day this week, she’d ask for a tour. Right now she needed to check in and talk with the two men. Hopefully, she would be compatible with one of them.

“Hello.” A short, blond-coiffed woman, elegantly dressed in a burgundy and gold wrap dress, approached her from an alcove. “Welcome, Mistress Rose. I’m Ada, servant of the House of Chertier. We are glad you were able to make it.”

Startled more at hearing her professional Dominatrix name than by the sudden appearance of her hostess, Vera paused and then nodded. No one had called her Mistress in more than five years. “I’m glad I was able to make it. Has the bidding started?” She followed Ada through a door she hadn’t seen at first.

“The men are lining up now. The auction will begin in another thirty minutes. We have a locker provided for you if you wish to store your things.” She waited for Vera’s response.

After a brief hesitation, Vera realized she didn’t want to worry about her purse or laptop while handling the social aspects of an event of this nature. Hard pressed to justify
not
locking up her personal items, she nodded. “That would be nice. Thank you.”

Ada smiled and led her into a small room with large lockers lining the wall. Vera realized her carry-on luggage would have fit into the locker and forced herself to blow it off. After locking away her things, they left the room.

“As I mentioned, the bidding will start soon. I realize that does not give you much time to look over all the submissives, but—”

Vera stopped and looked down at the woman. “I accidentally left my program behind. If you could give me another one, I already chose two men and a possible third I’d like to interview.”

Ada frowned. “Just three? But there are forty men here and only twenty-eight Dommes.”

Not my problem
. “I’m looking for a special submissive. And according to their profiles, only two and the possible can provide what I need.” Vera lowered her voice as she stared down at the woman. But she was not interested in talking to a lot of men in a short period of time. That’s what they did at bars and clubs. It had never worked for her. Nope, she had a plan and she’d carry it out.