Read The Denim Dom Page 16


  She let out another soft whimper. Her pussy already cramped, aching for another round with the vibrator.

  * * * *

  Tony hoped he didn’t end up with a wet spot on the front of his jeans. He enjoyed the glazed look that had returned to Shayla’s eyes upon starting the rope class.

  It was like Christmas had arrived and brought him a shiny new toy to play with.

  One he didn’t ever want to let go.

  Patience.

  Not necessarily one of his strong suits when faced with something he badly wanted. He hated it when people were labeled, by themselves or others, as a “natural submissive.” Yes, some people took to certain aspects better and more quickly than others.

  Shayla, he could see, had readily taken to sensual play. He suspected their night in the dungeon would bring a lot of eye-opening experiences for her. If all went well, he planned on asking her over to his house for more private play on Sunday.

  He’d already told Jenny he wouldn’t be able to DM that night because of Shayla, so his time was free.

  By the time the class ended, he’d put her in two more basic ties, mercilessly teased her sexually until he knew she had to be hornier than hell, and suspected he might need to run to the men’s room again to rub another one out when they finished.

  Why did I take sex off the board? Oh yeah, because I’m an idiot, apparently.

  No, he wouldn’t ask her to put sex back on the table. Wouldn’t even mention his condition to her. Tonight was about her and letting her experience what the BDSM world had to offer while building her trust in him. Patience was hard, but worth it.

  She was most definitely worth it.

  No one he’d played with in the past several years made him feel like this regardless of the level of play. The pure wonder on her face as she discovered new things, and he got to experience them along with her, reminded him of all the good there was in this lifestyle he’d chosen.

  And for the first time in a long time, he realized he didn’t feel the aching loneliness that had plagued him for so long.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Seth slung the rope bag over his shoulder and headed out to their car. “Are you guys coming to dinner with us?” Leah asked.

  “Yes,” Tony said before Shayla could answer. “We’re taking my car. We’ll be along shortly.”

  “Okay. See you there.” Leah left the play space.

  Tony looked at her. “How are you feeling, pet?”

  She nodded. “Good, Sir.”

  “You don’t mind we’re driving over alone, do you?”

  Shayla suspected he wanted to talk in private. “No, Sir. I don’t mind.”

  “Good girl. Go get cleaned up. I’ll get my bags loaded.”

  She headed to the bathroom, marveling at the already fading ligature marks left on her flesh from the pink rope. It hadn’t been frightening at all. Not with Tony’s skilled hands winding the rope around her…and teasing her into a sexual frenzy.

  She looked herself in the eye in the mirror.

  I’m going to take this all the way. No matter what else he wanted to do to her that night, she’d do her best to go along with it. His enthusiasm had proven infectious, and she didn’t want it to end.

  She gathered her things, including her glasses, which she’d almost forgotten, and met him out at his car, where she found her hunch had proven correct.

  “Why did you move to Florida so suddenly?” he asked once they were underway.

  She took a deep breath. “I needed a fresh start.”

  “A breakup?”

  “Yeah. Yes, Sir, I mean.”

  He didn’t take his eyes off the traffic. “I need you to be able to talk to me. To confide in me,” he said. “No matter how uncomfortable it feels. I need to know these things so I don’t accidentally do something douchey along the way and trigger you.”

  She was letting him have unfettered access to her lady parts. If she couldn’t talk to him, she was seriously fucked in the head. “I caught my ex downloading porn. Most of it extreme BDSM porn. He downloaded it to my computer at home. He used his laptop for work and apparently didn’t want to risk it. He thought since he’d set up a different user account on my computer that it wouldn’t show up. I found out he’d spent about a thousand dollars on it.

  “He swore he’d stop, that he’d never do it again.” She picked at her cuticles. “He even proposed to me after being together nearly eight years at that point. I was stupid enough to believe him and we planned our wedding. The whole nine yards.”

  “But he did it again?”

  “Yep. Yes, Sir.”

  “Tell me what happened.” They pulled up to a red light and he looked at her.

  “I caught him, only this time it was over fifteen grand, and on credit cards he secretly took out in my name. I called the wedding off, told everyone what he did, and left his ass. Moved to Florida after a friend of mine put me in touch with Bill Melling and he offered me a job.”

  “I’m surprised you’re doing this story.”

  “Believe me, so am I. I thought maybe it would give me some answers.”

  “What did you feel?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  He arched an eyebrow at her.

  Inwardly, she sighed. This discussion had yanked her out of the emotional happy place she’d blissfully existed in since turning herself over to Tony hours earlier. “What do you mean, Sir?”

  “When you found out what James did the second time?”

  The muscles in her abdomen tightened dangerously as she fought back a rising rush of anger, turmoil, and bile in her gut. She remembered every second of that afternoon. Finding the mail on the back floorboard of her car, where he’d forgotten it behind the driver’s seat after borrowing it. The PO Box address she didn’t know about, but her name was on several of the bills. The way she got a paper cut sliding her finger under the first envelope’s flap to open it. How her hands trembled when she pulled the credit card bill, several pages long, out of the envelope and tried to make sense of the charges.

  Tried to make sense of line after line of charges to the same few websites.

  How her body felt like it simultaneously burst into flames of rage and grew deadly cool at the same time as her brain struggled to process what it was she read.

  The list, the all-too-familiar list of charges.

  The credit card she damn well knew she’d never applied for, even though the bill was in her name. Repeating with the other envelopes, other credit card bills.

  The way she collapsed, crying, at the latest check she received from James just days earlier.

  Fuck.

  “I really don’t want to talk about it,” she quietly replied. “Sir,” she added. “Not right now. I want to enjoy tonight. I’ve had too good an afternoon with you to let that talk spoil my mood.”

  “Fair enough, pet. I do, however, want to talk about it at some point. Soon.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I need to ask you this. If he was to show up on your doorstep tomorrow with the money to pay you off and asked you to take him back, would you?”

  She shook her head. “Not a snowball’s chance in hell. Fool me once and all that crap.”

  “You don’t think he’ll ever come down here and get violent with you, do you?”

  “No. Part of me wishes he had hit me, as sick as that sounds. I’d like to think I would have left him sooner if he had.”

  “Don’t blame yourself, pet. We all do silly things in the name of love, sometimes.”

  She let out a little snort.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I told the others. Leah and Tilly and Loren and Clarisse the other day when we were together. They pretty much said the same thing.”

  “Well, then. That should tell you something, right?”

  “Yeah, but every time I look at how much I now owe because of him it makes me sick to my stomach.”

  “Yeah, I guess that is rough. He’s paying you of
f though?”

  “A little at a time. I don’t know how long it’ll last. I won’t count on him following through.”

  “Can I ask one more thing and then I’ll let it drop for tonight?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Why didn’t you press charges? That’s not meant to sound judgmental. I’m just curious.”

  “I keep asking myself that same question. I only wanted gone. Out of there. Either he was going to pay me back or he wasn’t. He damn sure couldn’t if he lost his job and was in jail.”

  “What does he do?” He glanced at her. “Sorry, I did say one more thing. You don’t have to answer that.”

  “No, it’s okay, Sir. He’s a CPA, if you can believe that. Works for a pretty large firm in Cleveland.”

  “Wow. Okay, again, sorry, but have you checked your taxes to make sure they’re okay?”

  She smiled. “I always filed separately from him and I did my own. He always offered to do them, but mine were so simple I used the software. I’m actually looking forward to not having state income taxes to file now.”

  “Smart pet.”

  “I didn’t know how smart at the time, but yeah, I’m glad I stuck to my guns on that one.”

  He reached across the seat and laced his fingers through hers. “No more questions about that. I’m sorry. Anything you want to ask me? Fair’s fair.”

  She looked at him, studying his profile as he drove. He was a handsome man. To her, at least. “Tell me about your divorce.”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t want kids. I told her that from the beginning. I made no secret about it. She said she was okay with that.”

  “She wasn’t?”

  “Nope. Apparently not. She spent the first several years hinting and trying her best to get me to agree to it. I refused. When she realized I really meant it and that I had scheduled an appointment for a vasectomy, she turned into three gallons of crazy in a two-gallon bucket.”

  Shayla laughed. “And that’s why you’re allergic to drama?”

  “I had a low tolerance for it before that, but yes.” He gently squeezed her hand. “I mean it when I say I don’t want to be a douche. This is supposed to be fun for both of us.” He glanced at her before returning his eyes to the road. “I need you to talk to me. I can’t read minds. I expect you to call me out if you think I’m out of line. I want a submissive, not a doormat. I expect you to have opinions and to express them. I want to be worthy of your trust.”

  She felt the lump grow in her throat and swallowed it back. She squeezed his hand. “I don’t think you’re a douche, Sir,” she quietly said. “And a lack of trust is because of me, not because of anything you’ve done. You’ve been great.” She laughed. “This afternoon was fantastic.”

  He pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot. “I feel honored that you’ve put what trust you can in me.”

  “Well, Leah, Loren, Tilly, and Clarisse all speak highly of you.” She smiled. “I got the impression that Tilly isn’t someone who trusts people lightly.”

  He laughed. “No, she’s not. She’s been through a lot, which you’ve probably already heard from her.”

  “Yes.”

  Loren and Ross had also arrived and stood with Seth and Leah in the restaurant’s foyer, waiting for them. Tony gently grabbed Shayla’s arm to stop her.

  “Hold on, pet.” She looked up at him and spotted his devilish grin. “I’m not going to force you to wear a leather collar in a vanilla restaurant on your first outing with me.”

  She felt her face heat immediately as he reached to the back of her neck to unbuckle the collar. She had forgotten all about it.

  Loren giggled, but Shayla sensed it wasn’t mean spirited. “Don’t worry, I do that all the time. Ross is always having to remind me to take my collar off.”

  Tony handed it to her to slip into her purse before they found their way to their group of tables.

  * * * *

  Tony had almost let her go into the restaurant with the collar, but decided against it. He’d built her trust in him to a certain extent. He didn’t want to go blowing that, no matter what sadistic little jollies he’d get over her wearing his collar in public. At least now he had the bulk of the story from her about what happened.

  He felt outraged on her behalf. She was taking this a lot better than he would in her situation. He could understand her logic about not pressing charges despite it making her liable for the money.

  Didn’t mean he agreed with it.

  Tilly, Landry, and Cris also joined them for dinner. Tony noticed after putting in their orders that the women disappeared en masse to the restroom.

  “I think you’re about to get graded, buddy,” Seth teased him.

  Tony nodded as he sipped his iced tea. “I believe you’re right. They’re going to make sure she’s doing okay and get the dirt on this afternoon. Damn sneaky subs.” He grinned.

  Landry cleared his throat. “Speak for yourself. It’s not the sub I have to worry about,” he said as he cast a glance at Cris. “It’s the switchy bitch I married.” His playful smile belied his words. “She can be a holy terror, can’t she, Cris?”

  He let out a laugh. “You’ve got that right.”

  Ross shook his head. “They’ve adopted Shay into their ranks.” He arched an eyebrow at Tony. “God help you if you piss those women off.”

  “Not in my game plan, believe me.” The women returned from the bathroom at the same time a few minutes later. When Shay retook her seat next to him, he asked, “Interesting chat?”

  She blushed a little. He doubted she was a good liar given how easily her skin took on that sweet, pink flush. “Just catching up, Sir.”

  He carefully watched her throughout dinner. She seemed more relaxed and engaged than she had last week, now that she was familiar with the other women.

  When he started to think about what a nice tradition this would be, he snapped that line of thinking off at the source. There was an expiration date on this dynamic, unless she decided she wanted to make it a permanent one.

  He knew if things continued to go as well as they were, he wouldn’t mind that at all. Unless something cropped up, it would seem lightning had finally struck him and delivered his unicorn into his lap without him even looking.

  Funny how that works.

  He found her physically attractive, fun to play with, and interesting to talk to. They had similar interests in reading, movies, TV, and music. He hadn’t seen her apartment yet, but unless she was a nominee for her own episode of Hoarding: Buried Alive, he didn’t see anything that threw up red flags for him.

  She was obviously an independent woman. Leaving behind everyone and everything she knew to move across the country to a state she’d never been to before to take a new job had to be a huge step for her.

  When it was time to settle the checks, he picked up hers and refused to let her argue. “Leave it, pet. It’s my treat.”

  Her face flushed a little. He could tell from the way her gaze kept trying to drift down to her lap that she struggled with his order to look him in the eye. “Thank you, Sir. I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “It’s not a problem. I can afford it, and I want to do it.”

  He draped an arm around her shoulders for the walk out to his car. She fits me perfectly.

  It wasn’t any large stretch to imagine what her body would feel like next to him in bed. However, that thought made his cock ache again, so he nipped it in the bud. He liked the way she leaned in against him as they walked.

  “How are you feeling, pet?”

  She smiled up at him. “Good, Sir.”

  “Ready to play?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He stopped next to his car and took both of her hands. “I meant it when I say if something happens that you don’t like, safeword immediately. I don’t want to push you past your limits and have you hate me later. I’m not a douche.”

  “I don’t think you’re a douche, Sir.”

  “You’re really okay with
everything we did earlier? You won’t hurt my feelings if you say no.”

  “I’m really okay, Sir.”

  “Good girl. I’m very proud of you for how you handled today. You did very well.”

  She blushed. “Thank you, Sir.”

  He opened the door for her and held it. “Take your collar out of your purse.” She did and handed it to him. She held her hair out of the way while he buckled it around her neck. “Now let’s go play.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Butterflies multiplied in Shayla’s stomach at an alarming rate as they drew closer to the club. Armed with the confidence that she could stop events at any time, and with the support of the other women, she was determined to see the evening through to its conclusion.

  I hope I don’t embarrass him.

  She blinked, glad for the darkness of the car’s interior to hide her red cheeks. Where’d that come from?

  The warm thrill from his praise still rolled through her.

  I’m very proud of you.

  When was the last time she’d heard those words out of anyone’s mouth since she graduated from college?

  James had damn sure never said them to her. A memory flashed to mind, of the day two years earlier, when she’d received word about an IR series she’d written about Medicaid fraud in Cleveland receiving a state journalism award.

  She’d picked up the phone and called James about it before telling anyone else.

  His response?

  “That’s nice. I’ll talk to you when I get home.”

  How she’d bit back disappointment at his disinterested tone, swallowed her pride, and not mentioned it again to him.

  Neither had he.

  How could I have been so fucking blind for so long?

  Yet the man never hesitated to crow about his work accomplishments, even getting a tad petulant with her if she didn’t stroke his ego.

  Maybe she was the crazy one after all, and the women and men she’d met in BDSM dynamics were the sane ones. They all asked for what they wanted and didn’t settle. She’d spent eight years settling. Even before she moved in with James, once they’d started dating, she recalled times she’d changed things around in her apartment to please him regardless of how she felt about it.