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Authors: Julie Bailes

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Eleven

 

Piper

 

 

 

Several colloidal oatmeal baths later, my cheeks are healed and smooth as a baby’s bottom. Ryder brought me home and ordered me to coat my ass with vitamin E body butter every morning and night, claiming it’ll prevent my skin from breaking during a spanking.
I’m sure I’ll give him many reasons to prove his theory. We’ve been apart for three days, and my body is already craving him. Like heroin, one dose of him isn’t enough.

After soothing my bum with butter, I remove the bandages from my knees. Thankfully, they healed rather quickly. The wounds looked worse than they felt. Now, my knees are covered in new pink
flesh. Squeezing some Mederma onto my fingers, I coat my new skin, hoping to prevent scarring. After slipping on my denim shorts, Jack Daniel’s tank top, and a pair of black BOBs I shoot a text my father to let him know I’ll meet him at the café instead of him picking me up. Though he knows what I do for a living, he doesn’t know where I perform. Miami is full of strip joints, and the odds of him finding DD are slim to none. Our club isn’t a tourist attraction, and we don’t advertise with those trashy stripper lights flashing on top of the building, or acrylic paint of dancers on the windows. Only Miami’s high-class men and women know our whereabouts.

Fifteen minutes later, I arrive at the café. Walking in, I see
Paul wearing grey suit pants and a pastel pink button-down. I have to hand it to him, there aren’t many men who can make pink look good, but he wears it well. Catching sight of me, a huge smile spreads across his wrinkle-free face. Seems Mom isn’t the only one taking advantage of Botox.

“Piper,” he smiles, spreading his arms and inviting me in for a hug. Reluctantly, I walk into his arms and let him give me a quick squeeze. Holding me at arm’s length, he observes me from head to toe. “My, my,” he
tsks, shaking his head. “What a beautiful bombshell you’ve grown to be,” he finishes. Backing away from his reach, I shiver from his use of words. A beautiful bombshell is not how any father should describe their daughter. It’s perverted and plain creepy.

“D
o we have a table?” I ask, wishing this lunch away. He leads us to a booth near the back of the café, of course, next to a table filled with at least five college girls. Once we’re seated, an attractive redhead comes and takes our order. As our waitress walks away, my dad’s eyes travel the length of her legs and settle on her ass. Twisting her hips a bit more than necessary, she looks over her shoulder and winks. Really? Clearing my throat, I get his attention.

He spreads the napkin over onto his lap and takes a sip of lemon water. “How’s your mother?” he asks, his eyes fighting to remain focused on me, and not the giggling girls next to us.

“Fine, I guess. What brings you to Miami?” Before he’s able to respond, the sizzling redhead brings our salads and places them on the table. When I see his hand tickling the outside of her leg, I kick his shin. “Ouch,” he howls.

“Move along,” I snicker, mocking her laughter and waving her off. Rolling her eyes, she tears our ticket from her pad and tosses it on the table before walking away.

Checking my phone, I see it’s a quarter to three. “Listen, I don’t have long. I need to get in some practice before work tonight. Is there something you need?” He hasn’t bothered to come down to see me in over five years. Why now?

“See, I met someone. She’s not like other women
; she’s more. She isn’t clingy, needy, or bitchy. She’s independent, a free bird, and she doesn’t expect anything from me. She resides here in Miami. Ironically, she’s a performer, too,” he explains. Well, fuck a duck, I can’t believe I let the thought of him coming here just to see me cross my mind.
Stupid girl, Piper.

“Ah, I see,” I nod, taking a few bites of my salad. Taking a sip of water, I gather my keys and stand. “Well, best of luck to you
. And if you want your relationship to work, you should probably stop feeling up random women in public” I spit out, tossing a twenty on the table to cover my meal.

“Piper, calm down. Here, put this back into your purse,” he insists,
following behind me as I storm out of the café and race to my car.


I don’t need you to pay for my meals,
Paul
. I don’t need a damn thing from you—never have. I was a fool to think you came here with the sole purpose of seeing me, such a fucking fool,” I mutter, opening my car door.

“Paul? That hurts, princess.”

“I’m not your goddamn princess.”

“That’s enough
. I am your father, and you will watch your language and tone with me,” he warns.

Instantaneously, a
sinister laugh escapes me. “I’m sorry, but signing your name on a piece of paper doesn’t make you a father. Putting your daughter before your whores, and showing her the attention a father should give his little girl, so she doesn’t have to seek it from a room full of rich, drunken pricks three nights a week, does. You have done none of the above. You,
Paul
, are nothing but a sperm donor,” I retort, sitting in my car and slamming the door shut.

Picking up my phone
, I call Dean. “Hey, gorgeous,” he answers.

“Hey, handsome.
Are you at the club? I’m about ten minutes away and wanted to get in some practice before taking the stage,” I explain.

“I’m not there now, but I will be in about five minutes.
Shit,” he grumbles, paper rustling in the background.

“What is it?”

“I forgot the financial analysis at the house. Dammit
, listen, I wanted to tell you sooner, but I haven’t had the chance. Sailor will be stopping by periodically over the next few weeks tying up loose ends. I don’t want you to worry, because I’ve spoken with Beast and he won’t let him anywhere near you,” he promises.

“Sailor
was drunk last week. He won’t hurt me sober,” I assure him, just as I did Ryder.

“I know, but as I told you before, that’s
no excuse for his actions. His ass is fired, and that isn’t changing, but this analysis is something only he can finish. I’m sorry,” he apologizes.

“Don’t be. It’s fine, really.”

“I’m going to go back to grab the analysis, but Beast and Sailor should be at the club already. Go ahead and practice, and I’ll get there as soon as I can,” he informs.

“Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.” Ending our call, I continue my drive to DD. I feel like I should be nervous, but I’m not. Call me stupid, but I honestly believe Sailor won’t h
urt me.

When I pull behind the club, I don’t see Beast’s car, but it’s possible he parked in the front parking lot. Going to the back door, I twist the knob and the door is unlocked.
When I get inside, I remove my denim shorts and change into a pair of booty shorts. Pulling my hair up into a bun, I hear a loud thud come from Dean’s office. I thought he was going back home?

Glancing around the corner, I see that the door leading into Dean’s office is ajar. Again, another thud sounds. Going over to check on him, I peek i
nside his office. What I see makes me instantly nauseous, because that used to be me sleeping with the enemy. Sailor has Starlet bent over Dean’s desk with his hands in her hair, fucking her like the dirty skank she is.

Hitting the door with my hand, I slam it open against the wall. Sailor looks to me, eyes wide as saucers and mouth agape
. As if touching Starlet is acid to his hands, he pushes her away and comes for me. “Pi-Piper,” he stammers.

Taking a few steps back and tossing my hands out in surrender, I shake my head. “No explanation needed, Sailor, none whatsoever. I
couldn’t care less who you dip your dick in,” I affirm.

“No? Then why do you look like you’re going to be sick? Admit it, baby, you wish that were you my cock
was buried in,” he pants, half grinning.

“Believe me when I tell you I have no desire to have your adulterous dick anywhere near my body.” Turning my back on him, I walk
toward the stage, only to be stopped when Sailor leaps and captures me with his massive arms, grinding his Starlet coated erection into my back. “This is yours, baby, but you can only keep a man waiting for so long. What you won’t do for your master, another bitch will,” he whispers into my ear.

“You are not my fucking
master, Sailor. You’ve been replaced. Now, get the fuck off me,” I roar, ramming my elbow into the side of his ribcage.

Once his arms release me, I dash through the curtain and scream for Beast. To my surprise, it isn’t Beast who comes to my rescue
. It’s Ryder. “Jesus Christ, beauty, what’s the matter?” he asks, staring behind me. I don’t have to look to see who’s coming onto the stage. Ryder’s red face, flaring nostrils, and protruding veins in his neck tell me it’s Sailor. “Motherfucker,” Ryder spits. “Did he hurt you?” he asks, already walking to Sailor.

“No,” I blurt, taking his arm and pulling him back to me. “Ryder, please. Don’t,” I plead.

Ryder looks down to me. “I’ll fucking kill him. You say the words, and it’s done,” he vows.

“I know, but he’s not worth you rotting away in the penitentiary
. Come on. I need a drink,” I persuade, nodding to the bar. Even though I want nothing more than to rinse Starlet’s nastiness from my back, I need to calm Ryder down. Dragging him to the bar, he keeps his eyes on Sailor, sending a silent warning to keep his distance from
his
possession—me. Pouring us a glass of vodka and cranberry juice, I ask him, “Are you sticking around here all night?”

“I planned
on staying until your performance was finished. Then, I thought we could go back to my place,” he answers, finally averting his eyes to me.

“Oh, yeah?” I wiggle my brows, hoping to allay his anger.
Thankfully, I get the response I was aiming for.

The corners of his lips twitch as I cross my eyes
, and stick my tongue out while continuing to wiggle my brows. “This is a side of you I haven’t seen yet,” he laughs.

“Yeah, well, I’ve never cared about making someone else happy,” I shrug.

“What is it with him and you anyway? What’s your history with him?” Sipping my drink, I look around to make sure no one is within hearing range. “Sailor is the one who introduced me into the world of BDSM. He was my first and only master, until you.”

“Go on,” Ryder urges, thoroughly interested in
mine and Sailor’s past.

“We
were together for an entire year before I discovered he was a married man. Not only was he married and living a double life, which I had no clue about, he and his wife were expecting their second child. As soon as I found out I was his secret sub, I ended things between us,” I explain, finishing my drink.

“Did you love him?”

“Unfortunately, I did,” I answer, honestly.

“And now?”

Why do I feel like I’m under investigation? “Now, I feel nothing for him.
Enough of the drilling. What about you? You said you got burned, what happened?” Standing from the barstool, he leans over the bars and kisses my head. “That’s a story for another day, beauty. Right now, I’m going to help Beast move the tables for the party this evening. You go ahead and practice. I give you my word he won’t come within ten feet of that stage.”

 

***

             

Dressed in my turquoise mirrored bikini, I sit at my station and let Gemma straighten my mane. Earlier she told me the man she’s been seeing is coming in tonight to see her perform.

“You’re not nervous, are you?” I ask, acknowledging her unusual silence.

“Just a little,” she shrugs, flattening the last strand of my unruly waves.

“Don’t be, babe. You’re going to rock it, just like you always do,” I encourage.

“I’m not worried about performing, I’m going to blow Andrew’s mind with what I have in store for him,” she winks, setting my straightener onto the vanity.


Anything you care to share?” Gemma lets out a shaky breath, and I catch sight of a tear rolling down her cheek. Why did I ask? This is why I don’t have many girlfriends. They’re too damn emotional. Standing from my chair, I turn and give her an awkward one-arm hug. “You don’t have to tell me anything, Gem. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“I’m pr
egnant,” she mutters. Okay, that’s not what I was expecting to hear.

“How?” I ask, pulling her into Dean’s office for privacy.
“Obviously, I know what causes pregnancy, but I don’t know how it happened. You’ve been going for your shot, right?” Dear, God, please let her say no. We all go to the same GYN for our Depo-Provera injections Dean pays for, and if her dose was ineffective, most likely ours are too. We are all screwed.

She bows her head and sobs. “Gem, answer me. Did you go for your injection?” I panic.

“No,” she croaks. Thank God, hallelujah! Maybe I’m being insensitive, but I have no desire to become a parent.

“Have you been to the doctor? If you’ve only taken a home pregnancy test, it’s possible the results could be a false positive. I’ve heard of that happening to several women,” I console. Sniffling, she swipes her tears away. “No, I haven’t seen anyone. However, I
am doubtful all six tests are false positives.” Agreed. What do I say now? Showing affection isn’t my best asset. Actually, it isn’t a quality of mine at all.

BOOK: Sexed Into Submission
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