The Contract (6 page)

The thing was, he kept making me do things that just begged me to say, “fuck that,” and then the punishment would start.  Except it was more like games.  For example, he thought I should keep up on what was happening in the world, so I was supposed to watch the news.  So I watched the news (snore) and yet when he asked me what happened that day I fucked it up on purpose.  I think he knew it, too, because we did something that was more playful than painful.  He had these soft cuffs that velcroed to the mattress pad, so he velcroed me down and tortured me—by doing all kinds of shit that made me hotter than crap but insisting I not come until he said.  I messed that up eventually (control is not my thing), but what that man does with his mouth should be a sin.  Hell, it might actually BE a sin.

And that started off a whole new avenue of control where I also got to fuck with him—oh the joy I felt when I made him crazy!  He was always still in ultimate control—he was that kind of guy.  And I didn’t mind.   Yes, I was a deviant all right.

So everything was going pretty much all right until two things happened about the same time.  First of all, I started to figure out how much time was left on my contract.  He got really quiet but I didn’t notice.  He asked me what I planned to do then.  I put my chin on my knees and considered it.  I thought he was watching the movie we were watching but he wasn’t.  He was watching me.

The possibilities sort of depressed me.  “I guess I’ll get some minimum wage job and just keep plugging along.”  I thought of how nice these last months had been and said carelessly, “Maybe I should try to be mistress material.  I mean, you got me all sculpted, I am perfectly capable of handling every social gathering as I have been since birth, I know people, and thanks to your tutelage I’m a tiger in the sack.  I wonder how I go about advertising myself for such a position.  I doubt there’s a category in the want ads.”

Cray didn’t say anything.  When I looked over at him he was watching the movie.  Probably hadn’t even heard a word I said.  It cheered me up, though.  If I could handle Cray then I could handle anyone.

The next event happened the very next day.  The doorbell rang in the middle of the day, which was major odd.  Lance just let himself in, and everyone else had to go through reception to get up here.  No Jehovah Witnesses at our door.

I opened it to see just about the last person I expected—Brittany Burnell.  I sort of gaped at her momentarily before I got it together—she was on my doorstep for God’s sake—if that didn’t put me in charge I don’t know what would.  Someone was with her, but for the moment “man” was the only thing that got through to my brain.  Yeah, of course Brattney would have a man.

“Brit—” That was all the further I got until she slapped me.  I stumbled back, shocked but, well, let’s face it people, a lot more familiar with pain than I used to be.  I stood up straight and said, “Where have you been that slapping is considered a polite form of greeting?  Afghanistan?”

The man grabbed Brittany before she could hit me again. “Jesus, Brit.  You told me you wanted to apologize to her.”  I now recognized her companion—Dave Maior.  He and I had had a date once that was duller than dirt.

As he wrestled her inside, I shut the door.  “Please sit.  Can I offer either of you refreshments?”  No, I hadn’t turned into a stepford wife, but I knew in my bones that completely disregarding the slap would piss her off more than anything.  I turned a pleasant waiting face to my guests.

Dave said, “Could we have some Valium for Brittany?”

I laughed—surprised dull Dave would say that. “I don’t think we have Valium.  She’s just going to have to suck it up.”

Now Dave grinned at me as Brittany stood there shaking with rage. 

“This is awkward,” I noted calmly.  “Dave, would you like to sit down?”

“God, yes,” he said.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know Brittany would go psycho.  She told me she wanted to apologize for being a major bitch at the Sinclaire’s  party.  Turns out Cray was as good as his word and Brittany’s parents have had some financial problems.  He’s pretty protective of you.”

I waved that away.  “He’s like a vampire—you have to feed them occasionally.”

Dave asked softly, “Is that what you’re here for?”

I laughed at the image.  “I think it is.”

“I hate you!” Brittany screamed.

I blinked as the monstrous apartment echoed.  “Jeez, we need to get some rugs in here or something.  The acoustics are just this side of awful.”

Brittany said, “Everyone knows you’re just his whore, his plaything.”

“Then there’s no reason to speak so loudly, is there?”

“Is it true about what he did?” Dave asked.

“Probably.”  I sighed. “He does lots of stuff.”

“No, getting your parents to cut you off.”

I froze.  Dave’s dad was my parent’s lawyer, so if anyone would know, he would.  “I hadn’t heard that one,” I said with an admirable amount of calm.

“Oh.”  Dave looked sympathetic.  “Cray really put the pressure on them.  Otherwise they would never have abandoned you.”

I bit my lip.  I hadn’t allowed myself to think about my parents.  We hadn’t gotten along that great at the best of times.  Nice to know they weren’t total assholes.

“I think…Cray boxed you in.  Cut off funds from wherever you had them, kept creditors from extending credit.  That sort of thing.”

“Why would he do that?”

Dave said slowly, “I guess he wanted you.”

Brittany said, “And now you’re his—”

“Oh shut up!”  Dave-the-previously-dull said.  He turned to me.  “The real question is will he actually let you go?  He could just keep on the financial pressure until he’s the only choice.”

“And no one could help me or he’d ruin them.”  I had no doubts about this.  “Unless maybe he’s bored with me.”

Dave laughed.  “Doubtful.  You were always the one everyone wanted.  On our one date I was so intimidated I barely spoke.”

“I don’t think so, Dave.”

“Ask anyone, Alyssa.  Why else would arguably the most powerful man in the world work this hard to get you?”

I don’t know what look was on my face, but Dave stood up.  He gave me a tight hug and that is, naturally, when Cray came in.

I heard the door, saw Cray and dropped my forehead on Dave’s shoulder.  “Oh, this is just fucking great.”

Brittany attacked Cray, who grabbed her wrists and pinned her against the wall with every sign of hard amusement.  I heard him say softly to her, “You’re not learning, Brittany.  What will it take before you understand?”

Dave went over and took Brittany from Cray.  Brittany was beside herself.  Cray acted as if she didn’t exist.  “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you before.”  It was Cray’s Satan voice.  Not a good sign.

“I’ll see you later!” I called, trying to get Dave to just scat.

Instead, Dave said calmly, “Dave Maior.  Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

Cray stepped to the side and shut the door behind them as they left.  Then he turned to me.

“How the fuck did they get up here?”

I shrugged.  “No idea.  That one is on your side of the fence.”

“You called him?”

“Dave?  No, of course not.  Brittany wanted to come and give me a good slap for what you have done or are doing to her parents.”

Cray gave a short nod.  He pulled out his cell and told them to cancel his meetings for the rest of the day.  I sat down and looked at a blank TV while he changed.  When he came out, the first thing he did was examine my face.

“How bad?” I asked.

“She hit you pretty hard.  Your eye may blacken.”

I just nodded.

“I get the feeling that more happened here than Brittany slapping you and the…hug you got from your friend Dave.  Is he the son of the lawyer your parents use?”

I turned to him and took a deep breath.  “Yes.”

Cray looked suddenly uncomfortable.  “Have you eaten?  We could—”

“I’m not hungry.”

“What did Dave tell you?”  Cray stood and began to pace.  A very rare nervous response from him.

“He said you set me up.”  I felt a stupid tear slide down my face.  “That you forced Mom and Dad to cut me off—everything.  You made it so you were my only choice.  So, was he right, Cray?  Did you set me up?”

Cray was silent for a minute.  “Yes.”

“How could you do that to me?  Do you know how hard that was?”

Cray suddenly sat next to me and took my arm.  “You are going to listen to me.  All of it, understand?”

I nodded, face wet with tears.  What choice did I have?  I had started to like Cray and our few months together had been, well, exciting.  And all that time he’d no doubt been laughing at me.

“You don’t remember when we first met, do you?  No, it wasn’t here—it was four years ago.  It was some party you put on—for awhile there you had them nearly every weekend.  You don’t remember, I see.  No matter.  I didn’t think you would.  At the party we ended up together in some game, and you were the most amazing thing I’d ever seen.  You were funny, clever and lighthearted.  You put your arm around my shoulder and gave me a hip bump when you messed up the question and we lost.  You looked up and me and said, “Tell you what, you can spank me later.”  I think I fell in love with you then.”

“I was kidding.”

“I knew that.  I began to ask around, get more information on you, and found out you were the untouchable princess, the tease, the most amazing girl anyone knew.  Nothing fazed you.  You glided through life without paying attention to a single moment of it.”

I shrugged.  I had been pretty oblivious.

“I knew if I were going to have a shot with you there would need to be a power exchange.  You losing yours and me gaining mine.  Although I was wealthy then it’s nothing compared to what I am worth now.  I worked nearly every minute the last four years in order to do my part.  But you didn’t need me.  We were at several events in the last year and you absolutely cut me—acted like I was invisible.  I’ve always wanted to know—was that intentional?”

I sighed and let my head fall back on the back of the couch. “I don’t really remember.  You’re right when you said I didn’t pay attention to anything.  Maybe I did.  You had a wicked mean reputation, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to go up against you.”

“I spent the last nine months or so setting you up.  I knew I’d never have you any other way.  I’m not someone you would ever be seen with.”

I thought about that.  Yeah, he was probably right.  I only went out with guys who impressed me with their sterling manners and flawless good looks. “So you got me.  Got me and used me like a sex toy for what? Three months now?  What did you think would happen?  That I’d live with you for a few weeks and fall in love with you?  That’s not how it works.”

Cray nodded slowly.  “Then there’s no reason to continue with this.”

“This?”

“You’re free to go.  Your bank account will be ample enough for you to do whatever it is you’d like to do.”

I could not believe it.  I was free.  I felt…slightly nauseous.  I’d been counting on the six months.  I liked the stuff we did, liked my life here and even liked Cray.  I’d never find anyone like him, that was for sure.  But did I want to be dominated like this for the rest of my life?

“What if I said I only wanted vanilla sex?”

He looked wary, as if this was a test he didn’t understand. “Is that what you want?”

“It’s a theoretical, work with me, Cray, okay?”

“Then that’s what we’d do.  It’s not like we never do that.”

“And what if I said I wanted to travel—go to Europe and stuff?”

“I said you were free to go.”

I blew out a frustrated breath.  “Cray, I mean if I stayed.  That is what you’re angling at, isn’t it?  Because if I have—horrors of horrors—become boring then I’ll be out tonight.  I have a feeling once you got me I probably wasn’t what you expected.”

He sat forward.  “You were stronger than I expected, much stronger.  And you were and are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.  I understand I’m not considered handsome—”

I interrupted—he hated when I interrupted and I felt a little thrill like I always did when I challenged him.  “You’re handsome, so shut yer trap on that one.”

He continued, “And I know I’m possibly OCD—”

“Possibly?” I hooted.  “Your picture is in the dictionary under the word controlling.”

This time a fissure of irritation crossed his features. “And I don’t treat a woman as she is, according to society dictates, supposed to be treated.  I’m not an easy person—”

“No!” I said with overdone disbelief.  “Who said that?  What bologna!”

His voice assumed that cool I’m-gonna-hurt-you-so-stop-pissing-me-off tone.  I smiled inwardly.  “Alyssa, you know I don’t like to be interrupted.”

“Oh, well, jeez, I forgot.  Let’s see—you were naming your good qualities?  Let me throw in a few: you’re attentive.  I always feel needed and wanted.  We have the same taste in movies and what should be done with bitches.  You’re rich as shit—I know that shouldn’t matter to someone with my vast marketable skills but it does.  You’re incredibly inventive in bed.  You make me hot just sitting there looking pissed off because I interrupted you.”

Cray began to say something but I put up my hand. “Wait.  I’m not done and interrupting is rude.”  My sassy smile faded as reality came back.  “Cray, I can’t just continue living in your apartment and being your whack-a-mole.  I wish I could but I see more for myself in life than that.”

Cray stood and left.  I looked after him.  “Nice people say ‘good-bye’ when they leave a room.”

He was back in a minute with a box, which he tossed to me.  I looked at it.  “The key to your heart, right?” I opened the box expecting to see some ice—a necklace or whatever the stylish mistress is wearing this year—but it was most definitely a wedding set.  “What the fuck?”

Cray said calmly, “And you wonder why I adore you.”

“What the holy pig-flipping hell am I supposed to do with this?”

“Put on the engagement ring.  You can throw the party you want-big, small, I don’t care.”

Just to see how it looked I slipped on the ring.  “Three carats?”

“Yes, I remember you being quoted in some magazine that anything over three is just ostentatious.”