Accidental Slave (22 page)

Not only that, once he was onboard, it would free up some of her time. She had promised both Cole and herself to pull back some. There was no real reason she had to put in the kind of hours she did—not anymore. Her one weakness, one she was quick to admit but loathe to address, was a difficulty delegating. She knew she needed to make the effort, not only to prevent burnout before she reached thirty-five, but because it was nearly impossible to sustain a personal relationship when one was always either at the office or passed out from sheer exhaustion.

She had been doing better this past week, leaving earlier than usual and, more often than not, going to Cole’s place to spend the night. He still continued what she thought of as his gentle dominance. The thing was, as each day passed, she found herself wanting more. He’d laughed off her request to try a little experimenting in the playroom, which had pissed her off. He kept telling her she wasn’t serious. What did he know about it?

He wasn’t the one who woke up in a sweat, rope and leather weaving through her dreams, leaving her breathless. She loved when he used scarves to tie her wrists and ankles to his bedstead—somehow the feeling of helplessness heightened her sexual experience. And when he spanked her, which he had begun to do on a regular basis, sometimes so hard she was left with faint bruises, yes, it hurt, but it hurt so good.

Did that make her a masochist? Because she got off on the pain? It wasn’t so simple, and she was beginning to appreciate that on a personal level now. Somehow during the course of the spanking the stinging pain of his palm seemed to shift, to metamorphose into a stinging pleasure.

It wasn’t that it no longer hurt—it was that she was beginning to experience the pain, or more accurately, the sensation, differently.

Whatever was happening, she knew the sex that followed the spanking sessions gave her the most intense, incredible orgasms she’d ever experienced in her life. She couldn’t help but wonder how much more intense they might be after a sensual flogging, while bound to the X of the St. Andrew’s Cross, or bent over the padded spanking bench in Cole’s playroom.

“Don’t you agree, Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth looked up, realizing she hadn't heard a word either man had said for the last five minutes. Hoping she wasn’t agreeing to something she’d regret later, she smiled brightly and nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Well then.” Art stood and brushed at his pant legs. “Let’s seal it with a drink, shall we?

Maybe get some dinner. There’s a Japanese place I’ve been wanting to try.”

“Not me, thanks,” Elizabeth said quickly. “I’m sorry.” She smiled toward Gene, who smiled back. He was short and dumpy, his brown suit wrinkled and ill-fitting. Quite a far cry from the perfectly dressed and stylish Gary Dobbins. Nevertheless, he had a brilliant reputation in the ad business, and from what she’d observed at their two interviews, would be a pleasure to work with.

She extended her hand and shook his warmly. “I’m very pleased you’ll be coming onboard.

I wish I could go out with the two of you tonight, but I’ve got a prior obligation.”

“Not a problem,” he assured her.

She finally made it to the Plaza and spied Cole sitting at the bar, talking to, or rather listening to, a very attractive if somewhat over-made-up lady who was leaning toward him, ample cleavage offered for his inspection. The woman put her hand on Cole’s sleeve, tossed back her very expensively-dyed blonde hair and laughed a trilling little scale Elizabeth could hear from across the room.

Elizabeth experienced a twinge of jealousy, but she wasn’t really threatened. Cole was just being polite, she was sure. She stood back a moment, admiring him from a distance. He looked so elegant in his suit—she was used to seeing him in jeans. She knew he dealt in million dollar real estate deals as a matter of course, and his apartment was located in one of the most expensive parts of Manhattan, but so far it hadn't made much of an impact.

Probably because of her busy schedule and limited time, so far they’d spent most of their time in bed, in the Jacuzzi or eating takeout at his kitchen table. This evening, seeing him in his suit, the elegant sapphire cufflinks on the fine white sleeves showing beneath a pearl gray silk suit that looked as if it had been tailor-made for him and probably had been, she was reminded this guy had some serious bucks.

She wondered how many women pursued him, not because they particularly cared about him as a man, but saw him as a meal ticket, a sugar daddy, a way out. She was glad she didn’t even have to think about those kinds of things. She had her own money—she had her own life.

But she was very happy to have him in hers, however strange the events leading up to their meeting had been. Idly she wondered what had happened to Gary, though she was heartily glad to have seen the back of him. What was he doing now? Had he found a new job? Had he left the city? As far as she knew, he hadn't been hired at any of the Manhattan firms.

Elizabeth approached the bar. The woman pursed her lips, flashing daggers toward Elizabeth when she touched Cole’s shoulder, as if to say,
he’s mine, I got here first
.

At her touch, Cole turned to her and his face lit up, making her smile in return as warmth flooded her veins. “There you are.” He stood and took Elizabeth’s hand. She couldn’t resist a triumphant glance at the blonde.

Ever the gentleman, Cole turned back toward the woman. “It was a pleasure meeting you. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.” She gave him a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes, and turned toward the much older and less attractive man on her right.

A hostess appeared from nowhere to escort the two of them to a small, choice table near the window. Moments later two waiters appeared, one carrying a champagne bucket filled with ice, the other a bottle of fine champagne and two crystal flutes. The cork was popped and the glasses filled, then the waiters melted discreetly away.

Cole raised his glass. “To us.” He smiled.

She raised her glass and then sipped at the champagne, which was dry and delicious.

“Got held up again, hmm?” Cole’s voice was low, with no trace of reproach. Still, she glanced up sharply to see if he was upset.

“I’m really sorry,” she began. “The guy we were interviewing was late and—”

Cole held up his hand to stop her. “It’s okay, Elizabeth. I’m coming to understand this is just how it’s going to be between us. I accept that. You’ve got your career and that comes first—”

“
No
!” Several people at nearby tables looked curiously at Elizabeth. Embarrassed, she lowered her voice, but went on. “No, it doesn’t come first. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, Cole. I want more. I want of the D/s lifestyle you keep dangling in front of me and then pulling away. I want to find out for myself. I want to experience the heightened sensations I’ve read about and heard about. Please. I’m sorry I was late tonight. You have to admit, I was doing much better all week.”

Cole put his hand over hers. “It was never my intention to dangle the lifestyle at you and snatch it away. It’s not like that. It’s just…” he paused, as if gathering his thoughts. “…you can’t do this piecemeal. Believe me, I know. Not and make it something meaningful. If you’re serious about exploring the lifestyle, as you say, you have to be willing to make the commitment to it, and to me. It’s not just something you sample on the weekends. At least, that’s not what I want.

Not with you.”

“What are you saying—that you want me to quit my job?”

“Not at all. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do, ever. It’s just I honestly don’t think it would be fair to you to expect you to learn to submit while trying to juggle the rest of your life. In order to do this right, to really give of yourself the one hundred percent I would require, you need concentrated, committed time to focus. For a few weeks at least, I would need your full attention, 24/7, to properly train you. Time you just don’t have.”

Elizabeth toyed with her glass, watching the bubbles. Did she really want what she claimed to want? To find out what it was like to submit completely to another person? To willingly give up power, or, as he put it, to agree to an exchange of power?

Because she liked the sexy spankings, did it really follow that she’d thrill to the whip or flogger, to being bound and at his mercy? If she didn’t obey him, would she find herself in the cage?

Since she’d met Cole, she’d never felt more alive. And it wasn’t just because he was fun and sexy and handsome. It was what he offered—what she’d barely tasted, but had whetted her appetite and left her ravenous for more. She did want it, she realized with a sudden, blinding clarity.

Slowly she looked up. He was watching her. She felt at once hot and cold, her bones melting as she lost herself in his mesmerizing gaze.

She took a resolute breath, set down her glass and put her hands, palms down on the table, looking him straight in the eye. “I want it. I want to explore it. To find out.” Before he could object again, she hurried on.

“Listen. I have two weeks of vacation coming to me. I haven’t had time to use it since I got there. But we’ve pretty much wrapped up the interview process for Gary’s replacement, and he’s joining the firm two weeks from this coming Friday. We’re between any big pitches right now.

In fact, this would be a perfect time for me to take my vacation. So what do you think? Is two weeks enough for me to know? Do you think you could stand to have me around for two solid weeks, 24/7?”

“I think I could handle it.” He laughed, his eyes dancing. Sobering, he added, “Why don’t we sleep on it? Check with your office, give the idea some time to percolate in your head. I have to go out of town for a few days on business. If by Saturday morning you still want this, then come to me. No briefcase, no cell phone, no agenda other than a sincere desire to submit. If you change your mind, or it’s not the right time, we’re the same as before, and I’m fine with that.”

Elizabeth nodded. Though she didn’t fully understand what she was committing to, she somehow knew with unerring certainty that nothing was ever going to be the same. She was excited, even exhilarated, about her decision, and she knew she wouldn’t change her mind, no matter how many nights she slept on it. Still, she didn’t press the issue. She’d finished out her work week, get Art’s okay for a break, which he’d been encouraging to her to take anyway, and arrive at Cole’s doorstep, ready to take that next thrilling step in this amazing sensual adventure.

Cole refilled their glasses. Elizabeth raised hers and, in a belated response to his earlier toast, echoed, “To us.”

It had been easy to get the two weeks off, and though she had some qualms about being out of contact for so long with her team, she also knew it would be a good exercise for them to handle things without running to her for every little thing. And since they had no big projects on the table, it would mostly be business as usual, managing and maintaining their existing accounts.

While Cole was away she lay in her own bed each night, tossing and fitful as usual, she found herself reviewing the charred, pitted landscape of her failed relationships. Cole wasn’t the first man she thought she was in love with. There had been several over the years, each one successful, confident, handsome and good in bed. So what had gone wrong? What was it that consigned each of Elizabeth’s romantic connections to failure, sooner or later?

When she had engaged in this kind of introspection in the past, which wasn’t often, she invariably blamed the guy, whether directly or indirectly. From the moment she met a man, she placed a metaphorical set of scales on his shoulders. One side was reserved for his good points, or, as she thought of them, his assets. The other would tally his weaknesses and failures.

Naturally the scales at first tipped heavily toward his assets, piled like little gold bars on the positive side. Invariably he would misstep, resulting in a shift in the balance toward the lumps of lead that weighed heavier than the gold of his merits. It could be something as significant as standing her up for a date or being a selfish lover, to revealing himself through a careless comment to be a bigot or a sexist, down something as innocuous as telling a tasteless joke that fell flat. Though it wasn’t something she did consciously, she was merciless in dropping the little lead weights of his perceived failures onto the scale, until eventually, inevitably, it would tip into the negative, taking him down in the process.

Now, as she lay in bed alone, contemplating this new man in her life, and the step she was about to take in their exploration of D/s as a possible alternative lifestyle, she wondered how long it would be until the scales tipped against Cole.

And then something occurred to her, or rather, it hit her with a sudden, epiphany-like realization that had the force of a sucker punch to the gut. The reason her past relationships had all failed sooner or later wasn’t because her men fucked up one time too many, but because she’d consigned them to failure from the outset, by definition.

From their inception, each relationship was doomed, because instead of falling in love with a man, with the whole fallible, imperfect man, she had fallen in love with a set of characteristics and expectations. Thus it was only a matter of time before the man shouldering her heavy scales would falter and, in her eyes, fail.

“It wasn’t them. It was
me
.”

She said this aloud, sitting up suddenly in her bed, the knowledge at once depressing and exciting her. Depressing because she was forced, for the first time, really, to admit she was the problem. She was the reason she had spent so many years feeling lonely and disconnected from others. Excited because she knew this time was different.

Cole Pearson was different.

Or was it that she was different?

Yes, he was certainly the most compelling, exciting man she had ever met. She was intrigued by everything about him. She found herself responding on the deepest level to the allure of what he offered, though she didn’t yet fully understand the dynamics of a D/s relationship or how she would handle it when it was no longer a game.