Play With Me (Pleasure Playground) (3 page)

The only response he got was metal sliding on metal and a few seconds later she yanked the door open a few inches, a safety chain crossing in front of her face.

“I pretty much figured after I walked out today, my job would be gone. So that does not make you my boss and I do not have to talk to you.”

She’d scrubbed her face clean of makeup and she wore a simple thin-strap tank top and yoga-style pants that gently hugged the gorgeous curves of her hips and legs. Without those insanely sexy shoes she wore every day he noticed how short she really was. With her petite stature and no make up she looked young. But instead of looking like a child, her clean face and simple clothes gave him a sense of sweet vulnerability. Now he wished he’d brought his camera.

“Is that what you want? To quit?” Chase shouldered the door and moved closer. “Let me come in for a few minutes so we can talk about it.” If she really wanted to leave, then he finally had his way out of the torture he’d suffered. He could simply walk away now and be done with the whole mess. He’d go to the club tonight and find a willing play partner and go from there.

You don’t want her to go
. Murphy’s mocking statement haunted him.

She looked unsure. The slight narrowing of her eyes and the tiny purse of her mouth gave her thoughts away. Patience. He normally had it in spades and he could employ it here. Let her make the decisions
for now
. Come to him. It couldn’t be any other way. For the shoot or anything else he had to ensure her trust. Nothing was more important.

After a few minutes of their showdown, she relented, closing the door and unfastening her security chain. Chase never understood why people put any faith into those silly lightweight mechanisms. It took nothing to push the door and make it break. A woman living alone in a neighborhood like this needed far better security. This may not be New York City but that didn’t mean women weren’t attacked or worse. He added that to his running mental list of things he needed to get done. A new source of security for his receptionist.

When she opened the door she stood back and motioned with her hand for him to enter. He bit back the satisfied smile as he envisioned this the first win in the many battles of will to come. Murphy was right. He wasn’t about to let her go.

Stepping into her modest-sized apartment was like walking into a different building. She’d gone to great lengths to mask the rundown place she lived in by decorating her private space in a sort of shabby Old World style. The cracks in the walls gave the purple and gold paint treatment character. The vibrant space with pillows everywhere, furniture restyled from cast-offs and more color than the average color wheel could only be described as eye-popping.

Who the hell was this woman? For the first time since he’d met her, he looked beyond the beauty and luscious curves to realize he knew next to nothing about her.

“Wow, this is quite a transformation from the rest of your building.” He walked the perimeter of the area, peering into the few doors that led off the main room. Color and style met him everywhere.

“It’s amazing what you can do with a little imagination and a can of paint or two.” She spoke quietly from near the door as if afraid to come too close to him.

“You have the eye of an artist. What are you doing working as my receptionist with talent like this?”

“It’s no big deal. Besides, I don’t have a lot of experience. Do you know how few people in this town are willing to take a chance on someone without it?” She edged to the couch and took a seat in one corner, immediately covering most of her body by hugging a fat purple pillow to her chest.

“Are you afraid of me, Eve?” He didn’t like the wary look on her face. She seemed skittish.

“I don’t know how to be with you after this afternoon,” she whispered.

Chase winced at the obvious damage his gruff behavior had caused.
Way to go, dumbass.

“I didn’t mean for you to take it personally. The requirements attached to that commission are pretty intense. Not something I would normally consider an amateur for.”

She turned away from him, but not before he noticed the lovely shade of crimson blooming across her face.

“I wouldn’t have volunteered if I didn’t have an idea of what I was getting into. I’m not stupid.”

Her insolence gave him dirtier thoughts than it should. He needed to get out of here before he did something stupid, like fuck her. His hard-on grew along with the increasing images that filtered through his mind. The couch she sat on had been created from an old wrought-iron bed frame with knobs and spindles, perfect to tie her to. Hell, the entire apartment was a rigger’s dream. The open ceiling beams alone gave him a myriad of ideas for photographs. He could already imagine her in an old-fashioned corset and leggings with her hair piled on top of her head. Her body shape would make a delicious pinup shoot.

Bettie Page had nothing on her, and a bondage artist like Murphy would think he’d died and gone to heaven in a place like this. Chase made another mental note to bring his camera the next time he visited.

First things first. “I never thought you were stupid. But there are things in the order that could send you or anyone not accustomed to them, running for the hills and well, Murphy kind of likes having you around as the receptionist.”

“Murphy likes having me around.” Not a question, but a statement that implied the question. Despite the urges this woman created, he’d come here to offer her a job and in doing so had to remain professional. So he ignored that statement instead of showing her what he thought of having her around. He reached into his jacket and pulled a small manila folder from the pocket. He laid the folder on the coffee table and pushed it in her direction.

“The rejection really wasn’t personal. Appearance-wise we couldn’t ask for a more perfect model.” He enjoyed watching her eyes widen in surprise and her mouth open to say something and then close again when she changed her mind. He could practically see the gears turning in her head as she tried to figure him out. Little did she know he thrived on keeping a submissive off balance.

“I’m not convinced you truly understand what you offered yourself up for, but I’ve decided to let you read for yourself and then decide.” He held up his hand to stop her response. “No, until you read through this you’re not ready. Even then you may not be. So I’ve outlined the exact client requirements for you and included a copy of the hard-core model contract. If, and only if, you read it thoroughly and answer all the questions in it can you give me an answer. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Her simple answer made his dick swell more. It didn’t matter that her use of
Sir
probably only came out of respect for an employer, not a Dom. The sound uttered from her lips enflamed a need that had been sizzling for weeks and it was about to burn out of control.

“Tell me about your bondage experience. Have you even been restrained before?” Again she blushed to the roots of her hair, and he sighed in resignation. A complete novice would never work. He should snatch the folder and hightail it out of here. Until he noticed the sheen of tears swimming in her eyes.

“Once,” she uttered.

Chase sighed. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him, and the thought of having to drag it out of her did not sound fun. “And?”

“And I don’t want to talk about it.” She tossed the pillow aside and pulled her legs underneath her chin.

Alarm bells went off for Chase. Time to say forget it and get the hell out of Dodge. “Just tell me one thing and I’ll let it go for now. Did someone hurt you?”

The air in the room grew thick and heavy in the few seconds she didn’t answer. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and shook her head. A huge sigh of relief swept through Chase. Unfortunately stories of women being taken too far or being used badly in the name of BDSM were all too frequent in the community, and the thought of someone taking advantage of this one twisted his gut.

“I’m not looking to be rescued, Chase. I’m a big girl capable of making my own decisions. Despite my earlier behavior, I do know how to keep my emotions in check. I've paid attention to what goes on around the studio and I've studied many of your photos. But I haven’t been with a man in over two years, and I need this. It's time for me to stop wishing and start doing. Please, give me a chance.”

Chase sat stunned at her revelation. Now he definitely wanted to know more. He had so many questions he didn’t know where to start.

She picked up the folder. “Do you want me to read this now? Are you going to insist on watching me go through every word?”

Ooh, the sass. He had just the thing for a mouth like that. Unfortunately he couldn’t go there—yet. “No.” He stood and moved toward the door. “You read through it and decide by morning. Either way, you still have a job at Altered Ego and I’ll expect you at the office at nine a.m. sharp with your cute shoes and a decision.”

Eve had stood from the couch and walked in the direction of the front door while he spoke, and now he took two strides toward her. She stepped back. “If you sign that contract, there will be no going back. Everything changes, no matter how hard you try.”

Eve leaned against the door and breathed deep. Chase’s sensual threat had gone straight to her sex despite her best intentions. Hell, everything about the damned man went straight there. He personified hot sex with his gorgeous looks, but his voice was pure sin. She’d been horrified to find him at her door. Ever since she’d fled from the office today, she’d heard nothing but “no” over and over in her head. And the look on his face when he’d uttered it tortured her.

Now he’d come and gone, not with an apology but with an excuse for why he’d reacted the way he had. And a folder. She’d read his damned contract, but she didn’t care what the hell it said.

After two years of nothing but sickness and death, with no man in sight, she needed a boost when it came to getting her life back on track. This—she opened the folder and stared at the requirements—this would teach her once and for all if the fantasies she harbored could be more than mere figments of her imagination. Being submissive for Chase's camera would give her a taste of what the real thing could be.

It was no accident she’d been drawn to Altered Ego when a position opened up. Fate had shone down on her. If Chase had gone a step closer to her bedroom, he would have seen a very familiar sight. Eve had ordered more than one of his black-and-white erotic prints from his Web site and had them framed and hung in her bedroom.

When she’d decided to gut her father’s apartment and start from scratch, she’d saved her bedroom for last. Chase and Murphy inspired quite a bit of the design without even knowing it. Eve wandered into her room and curled up on the big, plush bed. She glanced at the half-empty bottle of wine she’d been working her way through before she’d been interrupted. There’d be more of that later.

Exhaling a shaky breath, she laid out the folder in front of her and opened the flap. The familiar logo of Altered Ego was emblazoned across the top of the paper with the details listed below.

Her gaze skimmed to the pertinent information she sought. Words such as “insertion,” “predicament,” and “forced orgasms” leaped from the page. Panic swelled inside her, alongside the familiar sensation of fear. She tamped down those feelings and straightened her spine.
They are just words typed out on white paper. Nothing to be afraid of.

She forced herself to breathe deep and exhale slowly and start at the beginning. This client wanted a long list of things to be included in the commission. Some would require clothes and some would not. All of them included her being restrained in some fashion, with an emphasis on rope bondage instead of cuffs or shackles.

The sessions would be long in order for Chase and Murphy to create the artistry the client requested, and her job would be to do more than simply lie there and go along for the ride. There were a myriad of emotions marked on the standard checklist. Eve turned the page, unwilling to linger on the details for too long. She wouldn’t be deterred.

The standard contract had far more detail, but Chase didn’t know she’d already seen one of these. One of the models had dropped one off last week, and since the envelope had not been sealed, curiosity got the better of her. Pretty much by signing this document, she gave permission to Altered Ego, and Chase and Murphy by way of ownership, to do anything they saw fit during a shoot.

Including sex for photographic purposes.

Nerves fluttered in her stomach at the thought of being taken by Murphy while Chase captured the pictures. A quick twinge of guilt caught her off guard, which she quickly pushed away. Good girls weren’t supposed to be this excited about the cold, clinical way these acts were portrayed in black and white. This wasn’t a date, nor was it a romance, she reminded herself. She had something to prove to herself, and she wanted to do something different. Something so far outside her comfort zone she’d never want to go back. She didn’t want to be the good girl anymore. It was time to be the bad girl.

She hastily picked up a pen she’d left lying on the nightstand, and signed across the dotted line.

Fuck it.

If she couldn’t take a chance with someone like Chase, she never would. He’d maintained a strange distance between them most of the time, yet she still got to know him a little. She trusted him not to hurt her. At least physically. If they did half of what was listed in that contract it wouldn't be easy to stay detached. One orgasm could lead to another and then what? Chase and Murphy liked to work together and they made a great team. If she got attached there would be trouble.