A Jade's Trick (Lilly Black's Jaded Series Book 1) (33 page)

She's a switch!  With long, dark hair like mine, she's plain and waifish, and instead of being naked like the rest, she's wearing a bra and cotton panties like the ones Cain was so anxious to get out of my underwear drawer.

"Did she bleach her hair for you after this was taken?" I tease.

"They're not all blondes, Evan." 

"Name one brunette other than this girl and myself, and your fake marriage to Lucy doesn't count."

"Uh..."  Cain drags it out, and I just roll my eyes at him.

"So what's the deal with Anabelle?" I ask.

"Anabelle..." he sighs.  "Anabelle seemed like the perfect submissive, not the kind I like to break, but the real thing, and curiosity got the better of me.  I thought I could mold her into anything I wanted, but in the end, I just couldn't go through with it."

"Why not?"  Aside from the fact that she looks like a limp dishrag...

"She's a grown woman with sexual sensibilities of a 13-year-old girl.  Her romantic ideals were so juvenile and naive, I felt like a pedophile just negotiating with her." 

Good thing I'm so jaded,
I think, knowing that deep inside, I am not much different, my sexuality frozen in time at just about at the same age as hers.

"So you broke it off?" I ask.  "Was she crushed?"

"Devastated.  It was over a year ago, and she still just sits across the room and stares at me every time I have to suffer through one of these functions.  I'm so glad you're coming with me this time, Evan.  It will be so much more interesting to me now."  He has a devilish look in his eye.

"Interesting?"
I snipe, displeased by the weak adjective.  "If interesting is the best you can give me, then just to keep things
interesting
, you'll be wearing my panties beneath your tux."

"Oh, really?" Cain asks as if he's challenging me.

"Really."

"Keep talking like that, and I'll drag your ass to the dungeon right now," he threatens.

"You really don't understand how this Domme/sub thing works at all, do you?"  I indicate myself as Domme and him as sub as I say it.

"We're making our own rules."

"Then I propose a new one.  If you hope to find yourself strapped to a the wall in
my
dungeon at any point in the near future, you'll focus so we can get this over with." 

"Yes, Domina," he sneers.

"Will you ever learn to say that without sarcasm?"

"You'll have to teach me," he says, smiling.

"Or beat it out of you," I say.

"I think I'd respond better to reward-based training," Cain says, mischievously, but I ignore him.  We have to finish this or I am not walking into a country club where all of the pretty, little blonde dolls Catherine has hand-picked to bear her grandchildren will be watching me, judging me, and waiting for me to fuck something up and embarrass myself.

I direct Cain's attention to the stack of folders with a firm stare, and just as I close Anabelle's folder, something catches my eye on her bill of health.  She was a certified virgin.  I don't mention it as Cain opens the next folder, and I notice that the doctor's name is the same as Anabelle's file and the one before that.

"So all of these women have the same doctor?"

"She's my doctor.  She's on call whenever I need her."

"So you don't trust other doctors' results?" 

"It's not in my nature to trust, Evan, especially not like I trust you," he says, then he gives me a suspicious look.  "Of course now that I see how easy it is to get you off, I'm starting to wonder if the whole 'no man can make me come' bit is just a scam you use to make a man become obsessed with going down on you."

"Why?  Are you obsessed?" I ask.

"I am completely obsessed with your pussy, Evan." 

"That works both ways," I admit.

"I don't follow." 

"I meant that I am obsessed with yours as well."

"With my what?" he asks stubbornly.

"With your cock, Cain Ballantyne.  I am obsessed with your cock.  Happy?"

"No.  Tell me more about my cock."

"After you finish telling me where it's been," I say with a wry smile.  Cain relents, and we quickly blow through several more folders.  Then we come to the one I've been dreading.

Cain doesn't even need to open the folder because her image is already burned into my retinas, and though I already know most of the answers to my five questions, he tells me something new and much more interesting.  He tells me about the night he discovered that she had been poking holes in condoms.  He called his doctor immediately, and she came to his apartment in the middle of the night to give Elizabeth a pregnancy test.  It was negative.

"What would you have done if she had been pregnant?" I ask.

"Fucking killed her," Cain says coldly, then his expression softens and he sighs.  "I probably would have done the right thing, and I despise her when I think about how she could have trapped me before I ever met you." 

"Yeah, me, too."

"She called me the other day," he confesses, and my eyes fly open wide.  "I let it go to voice mail."

"I want to hear the message."

"No you don't.  She was just being a bitch, threatening to violate the Non-Disclosure Agreement."

"What are you going to do?" I ask.

"I had my attorney take care of it.  It's not the first time an ex-sub has made that threat," he says dismissively, "but even after all that, I still wanted you so much I let the NDA slide."

"And regardless of what I may have said, I wanted you so much I would have signed it."

"I know," he says, and there's that smug grin that drives me crazy.

"So what would have happened to Elizabeth if she had violated it?"

"Just a big legal mess, but the damage would already be done if it got to that point.  That's why I have these."  He opens the next folder and indicates the small computer disk stapled inside.

"The video contracts?" 

"They're more than just contracts."

"Oh," I say, and then without evening thinking, I find myself asking to watch them.

"Are you sure you understand what I was implying?" Cain asks, his brow furrowed.

"Sex videos, right?"

"And you want to watch them?"

"I don't know.  Maybe," I say indecisively, but I am actually curious as fuck about those little storage devices now.

"I'm not saying no, but let's get through Saturday night, and revisit this later.  Okay?"

"Okay.  So who's next?" I ask as Cain closes the folder.

"You," he answers, his tone a low growl as he pushes all of the folders and dishes out of our way.

"But we're not finished," I argue.

"We are for now because I don't want these bitches to get inside your head.  I have you all to myself for three days, and I plan to spend every possible minute doing everything I can to make you want to quit your job and stay with me forever," he says, and as I look up into his eyes, searching my mind for the right words to say lest I make a silly joke, he places a fortune cookie on the table in front of me.  "I believe you forgot this after dinner last week."  I stare at the golden confection sitting there in its plastic wrapper, wondering why he bothered to bring it back here from the dungeon.  I remember him making a point of ordering fortune cookies with our sushi that night, but I don't remember it being a big deal that I forgot to eat it.  I look up at him suspiciously as he unwraps it, cracks it open, and hands it to me.

"It's time to surrender to your destiny, Evan," he says cryptically as I pull out the fortune.  It reads:

"This doesn't exactly sound like ancient Chinese wisdom," I complain, not looking up from the sliver of white paper with red writing.

"I think it's sage advice," Cain says, putting one hand under my chin in an attempt to lift my gaze.  While I cover my eyes, I feel him tugging at my robe, and the next thing I know, I'm being carried away with the robe hanging from one arm as I refuse to look at him.  He lays me down on the bed and sits astride my hips, having shed his robe, too, and I feel his intent against my belly.

"You'll have to move that hand sooner or later," he says, slipping one of his legs between mine to spread them as he slides his hand over my breasts and down my abdomen toward the forbidden zone.

"You wouldn't!" I snap when he slips his hand between my thighs.

"Oh, I would," he threatens, and without warning he lets one finger lightly graze me.  I grab him by the wrist with my free hand.

"Now you can't."

"Not with that hand." He laughs, and I feel his other hand taking the place of the one I now hold.

"Don't you dare!" 

"Look at me," he tries to negotiate.

"No."

"Then I'm afraid we're going to have to see if, like everything else, my touch is superior to all other men."

"A little full of ourselves, aren't we?" I say to distract him as I twist my thighs inward, pigeon-toeing my feet in an attempt to hide my scars, then I feel one finger dip ever-so-slightly lower than the others as he slides his hand over me.  Reminding myself that I can always use the safeword, I try to relax, and though his fingertip isn't nearly as smooth as his tongue, his subtle teasing is turning me on until he begins to branch out with his other fingers.  My muscles tense automatically as my conditioning kicks in.  If he doesn't stop now, he'll feel the scars, but I've become powerless to stop him.  I use the only control I have.  I uncover my eyes.

"Was that so hard?" Cain asks, his attention redirected.

"No," I say meekly.

"You could have stopped me."

"I know."

"Are you okay?"

"Depends," I say.  "What did your cookie say?" 

"The same thing," he answers, sucking the air out of my lungs with a fearless gaze.

Cain and I sleep until after noon on Friday.  We have nothing to do today but finish the last, few sub folders, find something for me to wear to the charity dinner, and play in the dungeon.  After breakfast I go through my closet to see if there's anything appropriate to wear tomorrow night, and in my morning stupor, I lay out several black dresses before I even notice what I'm laying them on. It's a new piece of furniture - a gorgeous, red velvet fainting couch, and as if on cue, Cain comes in freshly showered and smelling like heaven.

"When did you do this?" I ask, beaming.

"Do you like it?" he asks.  "I wanted black, but when I saw the red, it made me think of the night I met you."

"It's perfect!  I love it!" I gush as I throw my arms around him and kiss him on the cheek.

"There's a new mirror, too," he says, leading me over to what appears to be a thickly framed etching of St. Louis Cathedral in New Orleans.  He opens it to reveal five mirrors that fan out on stiff hinges to allow me to see myself in 360 degrees.  As Cain encircles us both, I think about how wonderful it would be to fuck him here where I could watch his body from every angle.

"You think of everything," I say, leaning my head back to look up at him as he stands behind me.

"Only for you," he says, kissing my forehead.

"So which one for tomorrow night?" I ask as I close the mirror, pointing to the dresses I've laid out.

"None of those will do," Cain says.  "You'll need a one-of-a-kind.  Get dressed.  I'm taking you shopping."

"Uhhh," I whine.

"You are the strangest woman, Evan Lucien," Cain says, shaking his head.  "What if I pick up Nicole on the way?  Will that make it more fun for you?"

"Sweet of you to offer..."

"I am not sweet," he protests, biting my shoulder.

"Forgive me, Master," I say.  "It was...thoughtful of you to offer, but I think taking Nicole shopping will only remind her that she's not coming to the royal ball."

"I thought about asking Cary to take her, but that would be unfair to Caleb."

"Unfair to Caleb?  That's rich,"  I snipe.

"I think Nicole can handle seeing Caleb with the harpy because she knows he really wants to be with her, but if he had to watch her there getting hit on and dancing with other men, he'd end up ruining his entire life before dinner is served."

"Would it be so ruined?" I ask.

"Yes," he says with an unfamiliar sadness in his tone.  "Evan, nothing would make me happier than to see Cay leave that bitch, but not if it destroys him in the process.  Our mother fucked us all up, not just me."

"I don't think you're fucked up," I say.

"I like to bind and torture women who kind of remind me of my mother," he jokes.  "What about that isn't fucked up?"

"Me." 

"You," he says, kissing me on the nose.  "Now get dressed.  The sooner we get this shopping over with, the sooner I can get you bound and tortured."

"You may as well start practicing your patience now, Playboy," I call after him as he walks toward the door.  "You won't always be the one doing the torturing."

"Then you had better start practicing your line," he calls back.