Slave To Love (13 page)

He held the container in front of her. “You were right. Thanks.” He started to move toward her, which made her back away and go to the counter again.

“Now that I know you like oatmeal, I can have that made for you.” She took a bite of her eggs, then picked up a piece of bacon.

“Why?”

She slowed down her chewing as she watched him by the stove. “What?”

“You don’t really know me. Why would you concern yourself about preparing my meals?” He pulled out a pot and filled it with water.

“I don’t know. I like to cook. I took a lot of lessons and watched a ton of cooking shows. I don’t mind preparing food for people.” She scanned the area in front of her. “The crew should enjoy all this.”

“You’re going to make someone a great submissive.” Jace shook some oats into the pot before he turned to her. “Don’t make the mistake of doing something because you think that’s what you should do in your role.”

Taren crossed her legs as she sat on a barstool. “What do you mean?”

Jace turned to her. “Don’t
play
a submissive. Be one.”

She blinked at his candor. “I don’t think I’m playing a role.”

He studied her for a moment before turning back to his food.

“I haven’t been a submissive before so I wouldn’t know how to play being one.” She picked up her fork to start eating again, but suddenly lost her appetite.

“Were you a Domme?” Jace asked as he stirred his oatmeal.

“No.” She shook her head even though he had his back to her. “I’ve never been in the lifestyle. I’m new to all this.”

Jace dropped his spoon into the pot and glared at her. “Let me get this straight. They’re having a woman who has never served anyone before be the person to decide who should be her Dom or Domme? How would you know what you want?”

Taren blinked, not expecting to get questioned about her experience. She thought that if she made the show, her desire to be a part of this world would have been evident. Now she had to convince this stranger what she really wanted.

“I knew this show would be a train wreck.” Jace shook his head. “I didn’t know how bad it would be until now.”

She steeled her nerves to lay herself out on the line. “I want to learn. I want to be a part of this process because I think about it all the time. I would really appreciate it if you didn’t bring in your negativity. If you don’t believe in me, then maybe you should be the one to go.”

Chapter Eight

Jace nearly burned his oatmeal as he engaged in a heated exchange with Taren. He never expected her to bite back like she did. How dare she tell him to leave his house. Only she didn’t know he owned the home, and she really didn’t know how involved he’d been in the creation of the show or his past as a Dom.

Hearing that she had no background in BDSM at all concerned him. Would she see spanking and whipping as abuse? Could she walk around a play party naked? Would she truly be willing to serve beyond a day or week or even a month?

In his past, Jace had played with experienced subs and broken in new ones. Sometimes teaching new submissives about the lifestyle could be fun. Being away from the play for so long, he couldn’t imagine trying to bring someone into his way of life, or rather his old way of living.

Taren’s wide-eyed innocence coupled with her fighting spirit made her intriguing. That didn’t mean she would do well on the show or as a submissive.

“Do you know anything about BDSM?” Taren pivoted in her seat.

Jace made the mistake of panning down her body first before he answered. Even at her petite frame, she exuded a womanly quality. She looked like long legs, long arms, and a sensational rack comprised her body.

“I know enough to know that if you don’t approach it the right way, you could be eaten alive.” Deciding to give up on breakfast, he dumped his overcooked oatmeal into the disposal and ran the water until it all went down the drain. “I know that you need to be damn sure you want to be a submissive or slave to do it. If you’re unsure, it’ll break you.” He walked up to her. At his close proximity, he caught her musky scent. He’d almost expected to smell something flowery. Again, she surprised him. “I know that Doms and Dommes want someone willing to expose themselves, emotionally and physically. If you can’t do that, then you need to quit now.”

When Taren remained quiet, Jace started to head toward the front door. He still needed food. At some point, he would need to get Taren away from the house so that he could get into his office for his files and work. If he wanted to, he could go up the back stairs to a door that connected his office to a balcony.

“People are always expecting me to give up, to quit.”

Jace stopped moving and turned back to her.

Taren stood from the barstool and glared at him. “I’m not a quitter. If you’re looking to scare me, you’ve messed with the wrong woman. I’m going to do this show. Whether you’re a part of this or not, you’ll see the real me.”

Jace almost wanted to tell her the truth, reveal his true identity. He didn’t know her that well. He didn’t need the constant questions or comparisons. For the first time in years, he did think about wanting to return to his old habits. His fingertips tingled as he imagined holding a braided handle of a flogger again. He’d gotten rid of all of those things. Hell, he didn’t even have condoms in his house anymore.

“I’m not looking for a reaction.” Jace hadn’t. Seeing Taren looking both defiant yet afraid made his pulse drum. “You do what you need to do.” Without saying another word, he walked out of the house.

He needed food. He needed to get some work done. He needed to purge the memory of Taren looking down at his cock earlier when he’d taken his swim. Although he hated the idea of leaving his home, he couldn’t imagine staying in the same place as Taren. He wanted to shake some sense into her and kiss her all at the same time. In the back of his mind, he also imagined the spitfire strung up on a St. Andrew’s cross.

He needed to stay away from her or get himself in trouble. He’d already set her up to fail by imploring Vern to get the hardest Doms and Dommes out there. He’d be interested in seeing how filming would go if Taren made it through the first show.

****

Jace. Jace. What the hell was his last name? It didn’t matter. Taren had a feeling she wouldn’t like him. He didn’t know her and he already assumed she couldn’t do something, that she would fail as a submissive. She hadn’t even tried it yet.

He’d left the house and thirty minutes later the crew showed up. They set up more cameras around the place, in between eating the food she’d prepared earlier. To stay out of their way, she ducked into her new bedroom.

She opened the windows to bring in needed light. The place reminded her of a coffin. Taren heard a knock on her open door. Royce, the set designer, stood in the doorway. The tall yet thin man smiled a lot, which showed off his deep dimples and gleaming white teeth. He kept his dark hair in a short ’do.

“Hey, sweetie.” He entered the bedroom without invitation. “We’re done decorating the bedrooms and the family room, which I guess now will be the playroom.” He winked.

Taren didn’t know what he meant, but figured she would soon.

“The camera guys should be finishing up in a few hours.” He glanced around the bedroom. “Do you like it in here?”

“You mean in this house? Yes, it’s incredible. I walk around in it and feel like it can go on forever.” She wrapped her arms around her body as she strolled up to Royce.

“I get that. The place does look like some sheik’s summer home. But I’m talking about this room.” He scanned the room again and grimaced. “It’s so sad and dour. I don’t get that vibe from you.”

Although she’d only talked to Royce that week since being at the house, she liked him. He could be so warm and welcoming and yet so biting and mean, but never to her. With her, he’d always been kind.

“It is a sad and depressing room. Whoever lives here must be a depressed person.” Taren shook her head.

Royce wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I have some extra items in my truck. I could do a little something-something to this room if you want. Then when the show is over, we can turn it back to the Crypt Keeper’s private lair. What do you think?”

Taren smiled. “What do you have?”

Royce pulled her toward the door. “Come along, dear. Let’s do some shopping.”

When they hit the doorway, they met up with Jace. He still looked as stern as he did that morning when he’d left. He peered over their heads into the room before staring down at them.

“What’s going on?” Jace asked.

“Girl stuff.” Royce lovingly tilted his head toward Taren. “You wouldn’t be interested. Or would you?”

Taren chuckled at Royce’s attempt to hit on Jace. She did wonder how he would react. Was he gay or did he swing both ways? Hell, for that matter, did the man even have a girlfriend? She didn’t notice a ring on his finger, but that didn’t mean anything nowadays.

Jace took a step back to allow them to pass. “Let me not hold you two up.”

“Your loss.” Royce pulled Taren alongside him as he went to the front door where he had a long semi-truck parked in front of the house.

He helped Taren into the back where a few household decorations remained. She walked toward the corner where rolls of rugs leaned against the wall. She put her hands on each one of them, and folded down a corner to look at the pattern. She stopped at a cream-colored one with colored geometric shapes over it. She coasted her hand over it, allowing the soft fabric to tickle the palm of her hand.

“You, my dear, have excellent taste.” Royce sidled up next to her. “It’s pretty and it’s expensive.” He leaned down and whispered the last part to her.

“Oh, maybe I shouldn’t choose this one.” She let it go and started to look at the other rugs.

“No, honey. You go for what speaks to you.” Royce hoisted the rug and carried it to the opening where he had his crew waiting for him. “Take this to the main bedroom.”

“I thought we were done decorating that room.” One of his young crew members wiped his brow as he looked up at Royce.

“Thank goodness you’re not paid to think but just lift heavy things and do as you’re told.” He pointed to rug. “Pick that up.” Then he pointed to the front door. “Move it.”

The young man sighed. “Fine.” He picked up the rug and carried it in the house.

“I was young once but not that young.” Royce shook his head. “What else?”

“I really shouldn’t be doing this. Did Ananda say this was okay?” Taren crossed her arms to prevent herself from touching something else expensive that she would like.

“Don’t worry about that. You’re going to be here for a while. You deserve to be happy. You are the center of attention. Pick what you like. Your boy Royce will make magic.” He beamed.

She smiled. This would probably be the last time she could be selfish. She might as well enjoy it. “I wish we could paint the walls.”

Royce exhaled. “I’m so glad you said that.” He went to the end of the truck and scanned his crew. “Hey! We’re not done.”

His crew stopped moving around to give Royce their full attention.

“We’re painting the main bedroom.” Royce seemed happier about his decision than his employees. He turned to Taren. “You may have to sleep in one of the other bedrooms tonight because of the paint fumes. But, by the time the show starts taping, you’ll have your peaceful oasis.”

Taren hugged him. “Thanks so much for caring. I mean that.”

“Don’t let that get out. People will think I’m nice and shit.” He shivered. “Don’t need that.” He glanced at the house. “So what’s up with six-feet of sexy in there?”

She shrugged. “He came here last night. I assume he’s the caretaker or something. He avoids the question when I ask if he’s a contestant, which makes me think that he might be the producer or director.”

Royce furrowed his trimmed eyebrows. “Huh, I thought the director was a woman. I’ve only talked to Ananda about this project, but I could have sworn the few times she talked about the director she referred to the person as a her and not a him.” He helped Taren out of the truck. “Maybe he’s transitioning. That’s the in-thing now, you know.”

Taren doubted that sexy man could have been a woman at one time, not with what she saw between his legs. She wouldn’t know for sure until she got to talk to him.

****

As soon as Taren and that guy walked out of Jace’s bedroom, Jace quickly went to his office, unlocked the door, and grabbed everything he would need to do his work. He came out of the room and locked the door behind himself by the time some kid came to the room with a rolled up rug that he’d thrown to the floor.

Before Jace could inquire about it, he figured he needed to leave before Taren returned and asked him questions, like why he needed items from the office. He would have to be honest with her. What did he have to lose? Being honest with Michelle had been necessary. He had been dating her.

Jace had no plans to date Taren. The woman subjected herself to doing a reality show. Then again, he had agreed for this show to be taped in his home. What did that make him? Jace didn’t want to think about it.

He sequestered himself in the guesthouse. Even on a Sunday, he worked hard. He called Aaron first.

“Is this you calling to let me know you’re accepting our open invitation to come to dinner in the future?” Aaron asked.

Through the phone, Jace heard Aaron’s two young boys laughing and running. The sound stimulated lots of memories. First he recalled how he used to run after Eagan as a kid. With a fifteen-year age difference, Eagan had become like a second father figure, one with enough time and energy to play with him.

Then Jace thought about his chances of having a wife and children. Wife? He couldn’t even hold onto a girlfriend.

He shook his head. “I’m calling about that tile.”

Aaron snickered. “A week later? I told you I would take care of it. It came the next day. It’s all installed. It looks nice.”

Jace rubbed his head. “Lots going on right now.”