My Russian Master (Service & Submission Book 3) (23 page)

Jason whistled. “Shit! That is one sore ass, girlie. You may need to take the day off tomorrow for recuperation.” He then directed his next comments to Maxim. “How’d you get that shine and lovely shade of red with slight hues of purple, Mr. Volkov?”

“Thank you for noticing. I used my hand and a beautiful mahogany hairbrush that was three inches wide — no more, no less.”

“Well, I have to say it’s a work of art. And I’m sure it’ll be very effective.” He addressed Caroline once more. “You may turn back around, Caroline. Normally, I would feel sympathetic toward you, but this is a serious offense, girl. You cannot take endanger your health like that. Putting yourself at risk is a definite no-no.”

“She will regret this before the night is over, if she isn’t already. Go to the weight room and find a corner to stand in.” A sharp edge had slipped back into his voice.

“Yes, Sir,” she murmured, quickly fleeing the room.

Chapter Seventeen

D
erek and Mark each sat with a tumbler of whiskey in their hands waiting for Derek’s attorney Tom to call. It didn’t matter that it was only two o’clock in the afternoon. Apparently, Caroline’s attorneys had contacted
The Gazette
requesting proof and physical documentation for their claims. That was when the scheme had fallen apart.

The Gazette
had told them they’d received a confidential phone call informing them that Caroline Turner had an illegal immigrant residing in her house as a fitness chef. They produced the phone conversations with not one employee at the Immigration Office, but two, both stating that they had no legal documentation for a Maxim Volkov. They listed the date and time of these conversations.

End of story. Or was it?

Derek took another phone call from his attorneys.

“Derek, this is Tom Burns.”

“Hey, Tom.” Derek muted the twenty-four hour news channel, leaning back in the chair to look out the picture window across the room, taking in the beautiful view of Manhattan below.

Tom sighed loudly. “We got a problem going on here today. A big problem.”

“Great. So let’s handle it.”

“I wish it was that easy. How well did you know those employees at the Immigration Office?”

Derek paused a moment, weighing how much would he share with his attorney. “Well, I didn’t really know them at all. My assistant knew them from past employment there. Why?”

“Seems that you may have relied on people that weren’t worth their weight in shit.” The sound of shuffling of papers could be heard over the line. “Maxim Volkov produced
all
the legal documents required to be in the United States. Originals with the raised seal. He’s here legitimately — and has been here with a green card before.”

Derek raked his hand through his hair. He’d prepared himself for it to fall apart, but not this damn quickly. He wanted her reputation sullied in the meantime. It wouldn’t matter if the story changed later on — the damage would’ve been done. Now, he’d have to let Mark take the fall of having poor contacts — and as a result be the defendant in the inevitable libel suit to come. “Son of a bitch! These employees gave their word. We trusted them.”

“Did you trust them, or did you seek them out to destroy Ms. Turner?”

Derek lowered his voice. “I don’t think I like what you’re insinuating, Tom.”

“I’m not insinuating — I’m asking. It hasn’t been a secret at either Miller & Sons, or Turner Marketing — or in Manhattan, for that matter — that you two don’t get along. You’ve been enemies for a long time, so I’ll ask again: did you trust those employees? Or did you seek those employees out and use them for what you hoped would be her demise?”

“They assured us that he had no legal documentation. We went forward with the information given to us by their employees.” Derek threw a pencil across the room at the wall.

Damn him!

He wouldn’t have his name ruined now because of these employees.

“We’ll be in touch, Derek. I’ll contact Caroline’s attorneys and work out a plan. This may go sour for you — and we might end up having to fight a libel suit. Be prepared.
The Gazette
, more than likely, will come after you too. I’ll talk to you if not today, then tomorrow.”

“I’ll be anxious to hear how this progresses. Thank you, Tom.”

An hour later they were sitting in the office, sipping whiskey and waiting for the attorneys to call again. Mark had been in touch with the Immigration Office and it looked like the employees, with a little prodding — and assurance that they would not suffer retaliation — not only spoke up, but sang like fucking canaries. How did it fall apart this quickly? Not only would he
not
be receiving Turner Marketing on a silver platter, but he would more than likely face defamation of character suits from both Caroline and
The Gazette
. If he lost, he’d have to pay — dearly.

As part owner of Miller & Sons, Derek wouldn’t lose his job — but more than likely Mark would lose his. He’d have to make sure that Mark was compensated handsomely to care for his family in the interim.

Derek already had his marketing and sales people on this, trying to salvage his company’s name.

But this had gone very poorly.

“I don’t know where it went wrong, Derek. These are good employees. They were paid handsomely. It
should’ve
gone better than this. Without a hitch.” Mark shook his head, swirling the caramel-colored liquor in the glass.

“You did your best. Damn that fucking bitch!” Derek couldn’t sit a moment longer — the adrenalin made it impossible. He had to pace. “I’ve been trying for years to conquer her. It’s like there’s a force field around her that I just cannot penetrate.”

“I know, Derek. You’ve been at this for a while now. Maybe it’s just time to let it go?”

The phone in Derek’s pocket rang. He pulled it out, hitting the speaker button and resting it on the coffee table.

“Derek.”

“Derek, it’s Tom. As I feared, this is becoming a mess quickly.” Derek drank down the rest of his whiskey in one swallow, walking over to refill the glass before sitting down again.

“Those employees sang — loudly. You assholes paid them to say there were no documents?” Tom, normally an even keeled person who exhibited very little emotion, shouted. “What were you thinking?”

“It would’ve worked if they hadn’t broken so quickly. That damn woman deserves everything she gets!” Derek was dizzy with anger. She’d made him look like a fool again!

“Well, you’re going to pay for this, and pay for it handsomely. Caroline is suing you and
The Gazette
for defamation of character. I’m not sure what amount they’re asking for yet, but I suggest that we offer them an exorbitant sum with a stipulation that no one speaks about this. We’d have to hope that it gets swept under the carpet. I’m betting that they’ll slap a restraining order on you too. “

“Christ!” Derek slammed his empty tumbler on the table.

Tom mumbled something, then cleared his throat. “You have no one to blame but yourself. You need to cut loose this vendetta you have against her. Focus some of that damn energy on your own fucking business. You each need to do your own damn thing, and let the past be the past.”

“I hear you, Tom, and I’m leaving it alone. Find out from her attorneys what they want, and then make them a reasonable offer. Once you’ve agreed on an amount, let me know and I’ll get the Board to approve it.”

He didn’t even wait for Tom to say goodbye, hanging up before the man could say another word.

Both men sat silently, deep in their own thoughts.

This is a fine fucking mess. I’m doing just as Tom said. Time to focus on my business and leave the bitch to hers.

Chapter Eighteen

M
axim had walked Jason to the door, wishing him a good evening. He didn’t need him to stay and it would make it easier for both he and Caroline to know they were alone for what would be taking place tonight.

He walked to her liquor cabinet in the great room, pouring himself a shot of Jack as he looked out over Manhattan, at the bustle of people rushing to get home for dinner. Dusk was just settling into the sky, a light rain starting again. Spring in New York. It rained daily, and he loved nothing more than listening to the sound of it. He gulped the rest of his shot, knowing it would take the edge off. She would never know — or probably believe — that he worried before punishment sessions. The balance was delicate —harsh, but not abusive, stern, yet caring.

She needed to know that he’d
never
tolerate her hurting herself. He’d be thrashing that lesson into her soft, pillowy bottom tonight and then comfort and talk, finding out the reasons for this insecurity.

It made no sense to him that he’d become this close to her in such a short time — and unless he was wrong, she felt the same. He really liked having her in his life every day, and he wanted to see where this would take them both. When he’d walked in on her with her finger down her throat today, she’d scared the shit out of him. Just seeing her body retching, remembering her pained shouts, sent his heart racing all over again. He’d never felt himself so close to losing control.

Keeping calm had never been an issue for him. Usually he just took things in stride, finding a solution and working toward that goal. But,
this?
This had thrown him for a loop. He’d found himself wanting to throttle her, spank her, shake her and just scream until the anger dissipated. Thankfully, he knew how to control that urge, but she’d still be sore from that hairbrush. It concerned him that he may have paddled her a little too hard or a little too long, but sitting tenderly on those bruises would remind her how seriously he took her safety and health.

He took his shirt off, along with his socks and shoes. He needed his arms free of the restriction of clothing. Free to swing.

Walking into the room, he spotted Caroline, her tall, curvy, fully naked body standing in a corner at the far side of the room, just as he’d requested. As far as he was concerned, that body was perfect, his anger threatening to rise to the surface again. He needed to take the time to understand where she was coming from with this. Something lurked behind this behavior.

He closed the door, her back straightening at the snick of the latch. “Eyes stay forward. Back up one step.”

She slowly moved her feet back, goose flesh rising on the surface of her still red bottom.

“Nose against the wall.”

Her gorgeous ass pushed out in that position, and he saw absolutely no reason not to give it more attention. He placed a feathery kiss to her neck, trailing a finger from the dip at the top of her spine slowly down to the top of her ass. Taking his time, he continued along the divide, pressing and poking her anus. Her gasps made him smile. He then pushed into that dark channel, to her quiet keening.

“It’s uncomfortable, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“As it should be. You broke rules today. Standing here with my finger in your bottom will remind you that you’re a bad girl.”

She groaned, the embarrassment evident.

He slowly traced the welts with his other hand, gently testing the already forming bruises. “This backside will hurt for a couple days. When you sit and you feel pain, you will remember to eat and take no pills, yes?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“So agreeable. The defiant, misbehaving woman appears to have left with your white, unspanked bottom. All that is left is the good girl with a sore
zadnitsa
.” He pumped his finger a few times rough enough in her back hole to make her take a sharp breath.

“This ass will take my cock tonight. You have prepared it with all your activities today and again, it will remind you that I’m in charge. You do as I say and you most definitely do not damage or hurt the body I love. This woman — this gorgeous woman — is mine. No one hurts her.
Ever.
”

She looked over her shoulder with tears in her eyes. “You… you mean that?”

“Yes. I will take your ass tonight.”

“No. Not that. I mean the part about ‘this woman — this gorgeous woman.’ You really mean that?”

She seemed genuinely confused. “Yes, of course, Lena. My God, how have men treated you? You are intelligent, gorgeous woman. Has no one said that to you?”

“No. Not really. I mean I might get stupid men whistling on the street, but men can’t tell me that I’m beautiful in the workplace. Society has forbidden that behavior.” She shrugged. “And as for my social life, for the most part, men don’t seem to care.”

“Americans. I am glad.” Her eyebrows furrowed at his words. “It means you had no choice but to wait until I came to New York.” He stroked his hand down her cheek and she nuzzled into it, closing her eyes.

“I’m glad you found me, Mr. Volkov.”

“Well, you may not say that in a half hour. I’m going to use my whip on your ass and you probably won’t be happy with me tonight — or tomorrow. But you will know that I’m falling in love with you, Lena. It may seem too soon to say such things, but you fit me like a glove.”