week with her, he knew he could do it. She was a natural submissive, and she was just beginning to learn it when their seven days came to an end.
“I mean it. What is going on with you? Is it a woman?”
Jason stood and whipped his jacket from the back of the chair. “Look, Pepper, thank you for caring.” He took her by the shoulders and looked her in the eye. “Really, I mean that. But…you’d be well advised to mind your own business on this one.”
“If you’re going to keep me four hours late every single night, I think I have a right to know what the hell is going on, boss.”
“Okay, great. We’ll have dinner one day, and I’ll tell you all about it, okay?”
She nodded, and he released her arms, taking long strides to reach the door before she could call him back. He didn’t know where he was going. He couldn’t go home. There were too many memories of her there. Even in his bedroom because he had stupidly brought her up the stairs and laid her out on the silk sheets and focused all his attention on the nuances of her body in what was meant to be the cruelest of the tortures he’d visited on her. Somehow, instead of hurting her, he’d only managed to scar himself.
Maybe he could go get a drink somewhere? No. He wasn’t in the mood to run into somebody he knew, wasn’t in the mood to drink alone, wasn’t in the mood to call anybody. He stepped into the elevator, walking into a cloud of somebody else’s perfume. Perfume that smelled like Laura’s. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, submerging himself in her scent. There were still a few items in the dungeon that smelled like her, too, even though everything he’d used on her was either clean or sterile. Maybe it was just his imagination. Or her memory haunting him.
He practically fled from the elevator into the parking garage. He couldn’t spend the rest of his life like this. But he couldn’t get her out of his mind, either. What if he found somebody else? Somebody just like her, with red hair and blue eyes and pretty titties…no, somebody opposite of her. Somebody with raven hair and generous curves—maybe even a trained sub so he wouldn’t have to fight so much. Laura had lived up to her end of the bargain, but she’d been so willful.
Jason had invested equal amounts of energy into thinking about Laura and avoiding her, so the sight of her in the parking lot brought him to an abrupt halt. She was five or six cars down the row, standing next to the driver’s door with her head down, thumb traveling quickly over the screen of her phone. She wore oversized dark glasses, and her hair was free of pins, partially obscuring her face, but he still knew it was her. He knew every intimate detail of her body, and he would recognize her at any distance, in any situation.
She was too engrossed with her phone to notice him. He had time to turn back to the building. No, why would he do that? He actually wanted to talk to her. Running from her wouldn’t do him any good, even if that was his first impulse. A part of him was angry at his uncertainty—what was there to be uncertain about? Laura belonged to him. She was his . That’s why he kept the black band he wore on his right wrist the entire week she was in service to him. Their bargain may have been for seven days, but something had happened between them. Had she felt it, too? Or was she happy to be rid of him?
“Well what the fuck am I supposed to do?” Her angry question traveled across the parking lot with perfect clarity, breaking his paralysis. As he got closer, he saw her yank the Bluetooth out of her ear and slam her fist against the closed door. He heard the thud, too, and quickened his pace, eager to reach her before she could do her smooth (extremely sensitive) skin any further damage.
“Laura!”
She spun around to face him, but it was impossible to read her expression. Was she happy to see him? Or angry? If she took off her glasses, he would be able to
“I mean it. What is going on with you? Is it a woman?”
Jason stood and whipped his jacket from the back of the chair. “Look, Pepper, thank you for caring.” He took her by the shoulders and looked her in the eye. “Really, I mean that. But…you’d be well advised to mind your own business on this one.”
“If you’re going to keep me four hours late every single night, I think I have a right to know what the hell is going on, boss.”
“Okay, great. We’ll have dinner one day, and I’ll tell you all about it, okay?”
She nodded, and he released her arms, taking long strides to reach the door before she could call him back. He didn’t know where he was going. He couldn’t go home. There were too many memories of her there. Even in his bedroom because he had stupidly brought her up the stairs and laid her out on the silk sheets and focused all his attention on the nuances of her body in what was meant to be the cruelest of the tortures he’d visited on her. Somehow, instead of hurting her, he’d only managed to scar himself.
Maybe he could go get a drink somewhere? No. He wasn’t in the mood to run into somebody he knew, wasn’t in the mood to drink alone, wasn’t in the mood to call anybody. He stepped into the elevator, walking into a cloud of somebody else’s perfume. Perfume that smelled like Laura’s. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, submerging himself in her scent. There were still a few items in the dungeon that smelled like her, too, even though everything he’d used on her was either clean or sterile. Maybe it was just his imagination. Or her memory haunting him.
He practically fled from the elevator into the parking garage. He couldn’t spend the rest of his life like this. But he couldn’t get her out of his mind, either. What if he found somebody else? Somebody just like her, with red hair and blue eyes and pretty titties…no, somebody opposite of her. Somebody with raven hair and generous curves—maybe even a trained sub so he wouldn’t have to fight so much. Laura had lived up to her end of the bargain, but she’d been so willful.
Jason had invested equal amounts of energy into thinking about Laura and avoiding her, so the sight of her in the parking lot brought him to an abrupt halt. She was five or six cars down the row, standing next to the driver’s door with her head down, thumb traveling quickly over the screen of her phone. She wore oversized dark glasses, and her hair was free of pins, partially obscuring her face, but he still knew it was her. He knew every intimate detail of her body, and he would recognize her at any distance, in any situation.
She was too engrossed with her phone to notice him. He had time to turn back to the building. No, why would he do that? He actually wanted to talk to her. Running from her wouldn’t do him any good, even if that was his first impulse. A part of him was angry at his uncertainty—what was there to be uncertain about? Laura belonged to him. She was his . That’s why he kept the black band he wore on his right wrist the entire week she was in service to him. Their bargain may have been for seven days, but something had happened between them. Had she felt it, too? Or was she happy to be rid of him?
“Well what the fuck am I supposed to do?” Her angry question traveled across the parking lot with perfect clarity, breaking his paralysis. As he got closer, he saw her yank the Bluetooth out of her ear and slam her fist against the closed door. He heard the thud, too, and quickened his pace, eager to reach her before she could do her smooth (extremely sensitive) skin any further damage.
“Laura!”
She spun around to face him, but it was impossible to read her expression. Was she happy to see him? Or angry? If she took off her glasses, he would be able to
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