Read TheOneandOnly Online

Authors: Tori Carson


The One and Only



Michelle Jarrett, an overworked
college student and waitress, is intrigued by Sean Jameson, the sexy
businessman who frequents her diner. Though he haunts her dreams, she assumes
the confident, charismatic man is far out of her league.

Kink-club owner and Dom Sean can’t
resist Michelle’s vibrant smile, and her expressive eyes and intelligence draw
him back time and again to the diner—and better yet, he suspects she’s an
untrained sub. When he discovers she’s looking for a new job, he offers her one
bartending at his business, Cat Tails, and sets out to win her heart.

While a bit wary, Michelle accepts
the opportunity to learn more about Dominance and submission with a true
Master—not to mention making a salary that allows her to live comfortably. Soon
she’s submitting to everything from rope play to bondage—and enjoying it.

But not everyone is pleased that
Sean has fallen for Michelle. Once she wears his collar for good, will the
stakes turn deadly?


A Romantica®
BDSM erotic romance
from Ellora’s Cave


The One and Only
Tori Carson



This book is dedicated to my husband. Since that first day
we sat together in high school biology, I knew he was my one and only. For over
thirty years he has supported my dreams and inspired me. I love you, Kevin. You
own my heart.


I'd also like to send a huge thank you to my editor, Julie.
Her kind encouragement has meant the world to me. She knows exactly what to say
to get me focused and back on track. I couldn’t do it without you, Julie. Thank


Chapter One


“Mr. Jameson, what are you doing here? It’s Friday. I never
see you during the week.” Michelle Jarrett had been his waitress for the
monthly munch for a year now.

Sean Jameson smiled warmly as he looked at his watch. “It’s
well after midnight, hon. Technically it’s Saturday. What the hell kinda shift
are you pulling?”

He sounded concerned for her. Wouldn’t that be a nice change
of pace from her normal customers? This time of night the diner was either
empty or full of kooks. She wished they’d close at one or two and then open
again at five or six. It would make more sense, but no one asked for her
opinion. “Twelve to twelve, as usual.”

“That’s ridiculous. Why do you put up with that shit? It
isn’t safe.”

She shrugged. Mr. Jameson with his Jimmy Choo boots was
never going to understand a college student on a shoestring budget. “It’s no
big deal. There are a couple of guys working in the back. What can I get for
you? Is this an early breakfast or a late dinner?”

Sean laughed. “I think the last meal I had was breakfast, so
this must be an insanely late lunch. Have you eaten? I’d be happy to buy you
dinner. Would you get in trouble if you sat down with me? There aren’t any
other customers at the moment.”

She’d fantasized about Mr. Jameson for more months than she
could remember. Sitting down and having a meal with him seemed like the
beginning to one of her numerous dreams. “It should be okay. What can I get for

“Whatever you’ve got in abundance. At three o’clock in the
morning, food is food.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” He wouldn’t want some greasy
burger or anything deep-fried. His normal breakfast was oatmeal and fresh
fruit. “Ollie, can you grill two chicken breasts and some asparagus, steam some
broccoli too and put it over a bed of rice?”

“Are you on another health kick, Michelle? You know there’s
nothing wrong with a girl having some meat on her bones, ” Ollie, the short-order
cook, complained.

“You always complain you’re sick of just heating stuff up,
that you never get to actually cook. I’m giving you a chance to use your
culinary skills and you’re calling me fat. That’s not very nice.”

“Now don’t go puttin’ words in my mouth. I never used that
f-word. You’d kick my ass all the way to the curb if I even thought it. Go take
a load off and I’ll prepare something you’ll be proud to serve.”

As she walked back to the table, her heart started pounding.
Mr. Jameson had been the cause of more orgasms than any guy she’d ever slept
with. Not that that was saying much. She hoped spending time with him didn’t ruin
her fantasy man. “Ollie is cooking it now. It shouldn’t be long. Do you want
some sweet tea?”

“That’d be great. It’s been a long day and I could use a bit
of caffeine.”

He looked as together as he always did. His suit was
immaculate, his boots highly polished. He never much fit in with the normal
greasy-spoon clientele—it was one of the reasons she’d been so intrigued by
him. Each time he came in a different group of people sat with him. Most of
them seemed like nice-enough folks, but some were decidedly odd. She’d always
wondered what they were discussing but she’d never had the opportunity to ask
before now.

Michelle grabbed a diet soda and his tea then joined him at
his booth.

“Thank you.” He always had impeccable manners.

“No problem. I gotta ask, who are those people you meet with
each time you’re in here?” Michelle hoped she wasn’t overstepping her bounds,
but she was curious.

“I own a private club and I meet with prospective members.
We discuss the admission procedures and what the club has to offer.” His tone
had dropped an octave, as if their conversation was for her ears only.

“What kind of club?” She knew she was prying now, but the
way he was looking at her gave her the impression he wanted to tell her.
Michelle fiddled with the paper wrap holding the napkin around the silverware.

“Have you ever heard of BDSM?”

Her hands stilled as she tried to process his question.
“Excuse me?” She leaned in closer to him. His megawatt smile told her she’d
heard him correctly the first time. “You mean bondage, dominance and
submission…that sort of thing?” She was whispering now. She pulled her hands
down into her lap, hoping he wouldn’t notice them shaking. This conversation
was getting way too close to her fantasies.

He nodded. “So you’ve heard of it. I’m glad.”

“You own a kink club? Oh my God. I had no idea.” Or maybe
she did. Maybe her subconscious had picked up bits and pieces of their
conversations and put the puzzle together without informing the rest of her. It
would explain her sudden and intense interest in erotic romance. She’d chalked
it up to the recent popularity of
Fifty Shades

“Do you have an interest in the lifestyle?”

Does he sound hopeful?
His gaze was intense and she
couldn’t pull away, though she knew she was blushing profusely. “I…” She shrugged.

“It’s an easy question, Michelle. You won’t hurt my feelings
either way.”

When she reached for her soda, he took her hand in his.
Turning it over, he ran his finger along her palm sending shivers to her
breasts. Her nipples were hard, pushing against her bra, and suddenly there
didn’t seem to be enough air in the diner.

“If I were a betting man, I’d lay odds you were at least
curious. Have you ever played before, Michelle?”

She shook her head. The ability to speak was just out of
reach. All her nerve endings were focused on his touch. It was more than a
little scary that he could elicit such a sexual response using only his
fingertip. Most of the guys she’d dated couldn’t achieve that with their entire

“No, you aren’t interested, or no, you haven’t played

“Played,” she managed to get out.

“But you think you’d like to?” He ran his finger from the
inside of her elbow to her wrist.

Again, she shook her head. Her pussy wept in rebellion.
Okay, so she was lying through her teeth. Probably the biggest whopper she’d
ever told in her life, but it didn’t matter. This was self-preservation, pure
and simple.

He cocked his head to one side then lifted her chin with his
free hand. After meeting her gaze for a few moments, he let his hand fall away
from her face. “I think you’re lying to both of us.”

Dropping her gaze, she conceded, “Perhaps.”

“Tell me about yourself, Michelle. What do you do when
you’re not here?” He still retained her right hand and continued to scatter her
thoughts with his caresses.

“My life is pretty boring. I work three jobs and go to
school full-time.” She chuckled. “And every now and then I find time to sleep.”

“Order up, Michelle,” Ollie shouted from the kitchen.

“Excuse me.” She hurried to get their food. “Wow, Ollie, you
outdid yourself.” Michelle put the plates on a tray and brought them out to
their table. “I hope you like chicken.” She gave him the larger-portioned plate,
then took his glass to refill it. Once she’d disposed of the tray, she returned
to her side of their booth. “Can I get you anything else? Is this okay?” She
was beginning to worry. He hadn’t even picked up his silverware.

“This is amazing. It looks fresh and delicious. At this
hour, I expected reheated or something microwaved. Thank you, Michelle.”

“I’d hoped you’d like it. Ollie appreciates a chance to
really cook every now and then.” She cut a small piece of chicken and tasted
it. She smiled, seeing him finally dig in.

“It’s delicious. Please give Ollie my compliments.” He had a
bite of asparagus. “Where else do you work?”

“I’m a receptionist for the business college and I tend bar
Saturday nights at this little place near the university.”

He lifted his head. “You’re a bartender? I just lost mine.”
He shook his head. “His Domme decided to take on an additional sub. In a
jealous fit, he started smashing all my glassware.” He ran his hand along his
brow. “It wasn’t a good night.”

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair of him to take it out on you.” No
wonder he’d missed dinner.

“Would you consider taking the job? It would really help me

Her stomach did an odd flipping maneuver that was very
unsettling. No way in hell could she take a job at a kink club.
Even if it
means spending time with the Dom of your dreams?
“I’m assuming you’d need
someone immediately.”

“Yes, I need to hire someone today if at all possible.
Saturday is our biggest night. You could swing by the club this afternoon and
meet my manager, Steven. If you two hit it off, the job’s yours.” He took a
couple more bites of his meal. “This is really good, by the way. Most places
over-steam their veggies. These are perfect.”

“I’ll let Ollie know.” She was pleased he liked it. It
tasted pretty good to her as well. “I wish I could help you, but I’m working

“How much do you expect to bring home this evening?”

“On a good night, I can earn a hundred, maybe one-fifty.” It
wasn’t just the money holding her back. She wasn’t sure how she felt about
working for him. It would be terribly awkward, considering how many fantasies
she’d spun about this man.

“I’ll give you three hundred if you just go talk to Steven.
Call in sick tonight. That way, if it doesn’t work out, you aren’t out
anything. You can get a look at the club and see if you’d be happy there.”

“You’re making it very hard to say no.”

“What would it take to make you say yes?” His gaze was
strong and determined every time she got the courage to look him in the eye.

“I’d need to know exactly what the job entailed before I
agreed to anything.” She knew she was going to give in. She’d longed to be with
him for too many months to turn down the opportunity, but she wanted an idea of
what she was in for.


“Good girl. I like that you’re cautious.” He also liked that
she blushed when he praised her. He’d suspected she was submissive. She had an
innocent air about her that appealed to him on so many levels. “The job pays
seven-fifty a week, straight pay, no tips from patrons. The bar is completely
gratis for the members and their guests. If they’re scening that night, they
can have one alcoholic beverage and all the juice, soda, water, whatever, they
want. After they’ve finished playing for the night, the bar is open to them,
within reason.”

She nodded. “No up-selling or drink quotas? That sounds too
good to be true.”

“The members pay a substantial fee to join. They expect
great service.”

“Other than tending the bar, what other duties would I be
required to perform?”

He knew what she was getting at and he was proud of her for
asking questions. “Steven will give you the job responsibilities, but let me
ease your mind—the only service you’ll be performing is bartending. Steven
might have you help with inventory or ordering. I don’t really know—he runs
that part of the house. But the job I’m hiring you for is to tend bar. That’s
it, nothing outside the normal bartending parameters.” That didn’t mean he
wouldn’t try to entice her to scene with him, but it certainly wouldn’t be a
job requirement.

“What’s the uniform look like?”

He couldn’t help smiling. She wasn’t leaving anything to
chance. “Good question. We’ve always had men before and they were shirtless.
The servers are topless as well.” He shrugged and sent her a devilish grin, “It
a kink club.” As she pulled away from him and crossed her arms over
her chest, he knew he was losing her. “I’d be willing to work with you on the
wardrobe, maybe a corset or bustier and a mini. We could go shopping together
and find something we both approved of.”

“Um, Mr. Jameson, I’m not exactly a twig. This horrible
uniform leaves a lot to the imagination and I think your vision is far
different from reality.”

“Please call me Sean. If you take the job, while in the
club, you’d need to call me Master Sean. It’s just a title of respect within
the club, the same as you’d call your college instructor ‘professor’, nothing
more. As far as the uniform goes, don’t sweat it. We’ll find something we both
can live with.”

He took a moment to decide how to phrase what he had on his
mind. “I find you very attractive, Michelle. Why do you think I’ve kept coming
back month after month? Business-wise it would be smarter to meet in different
locations each month, but I keep coming back here. To see you.” It was best to
lay his cards on the table before he hired her. He didn’t want her blindsided
by his interest in her.

“I don’t know what to say, Sean.”

The door jingled as another customer arrived.

He grabbed her hand before she could scoot from the booth.
“Say you’ll think about it. I’ll be back at nine-thirty for the monthly munch.
You can tell me then what you’ve decided.” After she nodded, he let go of her
hand and allowed her to escape…for the moment.

* * * * *

Sean spent a couple hours in fitful sleep. For months now,
he’d had one erotic dream after another starring Michelle. He had a club full
of sexy, submissive women who’d be happy to have a relationship with him and he
lusted after a girl who had refused him at every turn.

Sharing a meal with Michelle had been a painful venture.
Each time she’d put her lips around her fork, he’d pictured his cock there
instead. What he wouldn’t give to bury his dick inside her sweet mouth. For the
last two hours, that was all he’d dreamed about.
. He needed relief
and soon.

Six o’clock in the morning, good enough
. He called
his friend and attorney and explained his harebrained idea. Aiden wasn’t too
happy with him, explaining that there was no way to safeguard against a sexual
harassment suit if you planned to pursue an employee. After bitching Sean out
for several minutes, Aiden offered to write up a cross between a prenup and a
trust fund. That way, if he was dragged through court, it would give the
appearance of innocence. It would cost him ten grand, but if it meant he’d get
a decent night’s sleep, it was worth it.

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