Logan stalls, fixing Rebecca with his sternest look, but she glares back belligerently. Finally, he turns to me and says, “How and where exactly did you negotiate Ava’s new limits?”
Logan and I have been friends for almost twenty years, and I know a lifeline when he throws it. “We did a scene at Lemongrass at the Aria to discuss her new limits.”
“So it was recorded? And televised?” Logan presses.
“Yes.”
He turns to Rebecca. “Sorry, Rebecca, a verbal agreement on camera is as valid as if it were written. Would you like to purchase something different?”
Her eyes flash. “Fine,” she says with a sneer. “If she doesn’t trust her Dom enough to give him what pleases him the most, I think she should be denied her pleasure.” She makes a show of studying the list of punishments. “I’ll purchase the chastity belt outfitted with both an anal plug and a dildo for Ava to wear for the next twelve hours. Extra large. Maybe that will teach her to deny her Dom.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to publicly reprimand Rebecca for suggesting that I’m not teaching my submissive appropriately, but Logan shoots me a warning look, and I know he’s already blurred the rules to save Ava from being flogged. The mistake was mine, and I know better. I should have written it down. Rebecca’s watching me closely, and I realize she’s trying to get a rise out of me. I swallow my words, but inside I’m seething.
I barely listen as Luke and Tessa go up to make their purchases. I don’t hear what Luke buys with his winnings, but Tessa’s request grabs my attention. “For being such a bitch to Ava for the past few weeks, I want to buy a punishment for Rebecca.”
Although I can tell Logan’s trying to remain unbiased and not react, I can see the admiration in his eyes.
“Fair enough. What would you like to buy?”
“I want Rebecca figged and spanked. Maybe that will teach her not to be an ass.”
I can barely contain my laughter, and I wink at Tessa as Ava and I head back upstairs. Ava, being my sweet and tenderhearted girl, is more worried about Rebecca.
“Tessa’s right. Rebecca needs to learn a lesson. And although her ass will be on fire, she’ll survive,” I assure her. I cup her cheek with my hand, rubbing my thumb across her lush lower lip. Rebecca’s punishment for Ava, while directed at me as much as at Ava, will be tough on my submissive. She’s not used to wearing either a plug or a dildo for any substantial length of time, and wearing both will no doubt make for an uncomfortable night. “Will you?”
She takes a deep breath. “I can survive anything when I’m with you.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ava
The next afternoon, Roman and I are lounging by the pool when Tessa appears.
“Can I borrow Ava?” she asks Roman. She’s fairly dancing with anticipation. “It’s an emergency.” She glances down at her crotch. “The, um, female kind.”
Roman’s eyes narrow. “You have more than earned a few minutes with your friend, Tessa. You don’t have to lie.”
Tessa swallows hard. “Okay. Um, thank you, Sir.”
He smiles then, and it transforms his face. “Thank you for what you did for Ava last night.” He turns to me. “Go see what Tessa wants.”
As soon as we’re out of earshot, she says, “I want to show you something.”
“Okay,” I say, puzzled as I follow her into the cool air-conditioned lobby of the hotel.
“Are you okay after last night?” she asks with concern, studying my face.
I wince. “It wasn’t that bad. I was kind of sore this morning, but I was, um, more frustrated than anything.”
She flashes me a knowing look. “Roman better have taken care of you,” she says with her hands on her hips.
I laugh and then immediately blush at the memory of exactly how Roman had taken care of me this morning after he’d removed the plug and the dildo, giving me an orgasm so intense I’d screamed his name. Several times.
We’ve stopped at a door that says STAFF ONLY on it, and Tessa pushes it open, dragging me inside. I look around at the stacks of towels and cleaning carts.
“Why are we in the maid’s closet?” I ask suspiciously.
She grabs my arm, pulling me over to a small TV. “I want to show you something.”
She turns the TV on and selects a program from the drop-down menu. Seconds later, the face of a female anchor from a popular entertainment news show fills the screen.
“
The Power Games
, the wildly popular reality show being filmed at the soon-to-be-opened Club Helix, an opulent BDSM-themed resort in Las Vegas, is taking the world by storm,” she says, flashing her brilliant toothpaste-commercial smile. “We’re down to four couples, all voted on by the now more-than-five-million pay-per-view audience, and America is dying to know who’s going to win.”
Tessa fast-forwards through a montage of images of her and Luke, Emmett and Rebecca, and Michael and Carly, and then hits Play. “However, the completely inexperienced and delicate-looking young college graduate Ava and her partner, the intimidating, gorgeous, and powerful Dominant Roman, are the ones who have stolen the show, and we’ve watched their amazing journey as Roman has turned Ava from an innocent young girl with serious trust issues into a woman who has embraced submission, trusting the man she didn’t even know six weeks ago to completely bind and suspend her from ropes during the challenge earlier this week.”
I watch with a mixture of fascination and dismay as the montage of Roman’s and my most intimate and life-changing moments flashes on the screen—my life over the past five weeks summed up in a video clip. But while it’s bizarre to see the events that have shaped me play out like a perfectly orchestrated movie, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s real, and I actually love seeing Roman’s perspective as he turns me into someone sensual, a woman powerful in her perfect submission to him. That’s it, I realize with clarity. Submitting to him and consciously giving myself over to the pain he demands empowers me.
“This is great,” I say, turning to Tessa. “How did you—”
“Shhh,” she interrupts me. “There’s more.”
“Ava is as feisty as they come, and Roman is a true Dom who’s not used to having his authority challenged, and America has loved watching the sparks fly when these two butt heads, not to mention the heat that usually follows. But while we all love Roman and Ava, Emmett, the tattoo artist Dom whom Ava arrived with, has charmed America with his easy smile and heart of gold.” She fans herself. “Not to mention those washboard abs.”
There are clips of me and Emmett now, but taken out of context, they hint at a relationship between Emmett and me—him trying to bid for me at the auction, our stolen meetings in the gym, moments I wasn’t even aware of when the camera has caught him watching me, and the night at the Helix Club where he had taken up guard next to Roman, protecting me. I can feel tears threatening to spill at Emmett’s sweet gesture. Then they show the clip of the one-on-one challenge between Roman and Emmett at Lake Mead, where both men obviously had the opportunity to eliminate each other from the games and neither took it.
“Although they’re possibly competing for the same woman, it almost looks like the two Doms have formed an alliance. But they can’t both win, and the nation is drawing lines—those who are Team Roman and those who are Team Emmett.”
“Oh, my God,” I breathe. “You were right. The audience thinks there’s a thing between me and Emmett?”
“They have a point, Ava,” she says gently. “I’ve said all along there’s more there than friendship.”
“No,” I protest. “He’s just been through a lot with me.”
I’m sidetracked by an image from the photo shoot of me bound and blindfolded that looks larger than life, even on the small TV screen.
“With less than a week left before the season finale, the audience has more questions than answers. Who will win the Power Games? Who will win Ava’s heart? And who exactly is the girl behind the blindfold? There are rumors that the new face of the Helix is the stepdaughter of presidential hopeful Anthony Sanderson the Third, although these rumors haven’t been substantiated. Sanderson has refused to comment on whether or not he is related to Ava Summers, instead vehemently maintaining his stance that pornography dehumanizes women and that he is categorically opposed to a show like
The Power Games
that glorifies violence against women.”
“That would be quite a blow to his campaign if that were the case, wouldn’t it, Ashley?” the male coanchor chimes in.
“Indeed it would, Ryan,” she says. “But since no one on the show is allowed to talk to the press until the winner is announced, we’ll just have to wait and see.”
Tessa switches off the TV, and I sit there in stunned silence. My plan has worked, although it’s going to take winning to truly ruin my stepfather.
“How did you find this?” I ask. “And how did you get in here?”
“It’s a long story,” she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I accidentally walked in on one of the maids crying, and I stopped to ask her what was wrong. It turns out her husband had been wrongly deported, leaving her alone here with their four children.” She shrugs. “I gave her the number of one of the partners at my firm, who’s offered to give her some pro bono help, and she brought me down here this morning where there were no cameras to thank me and give me this.” She pulls out a beautiful pair of handcrafted turquoise earrings. “This was playing, and I knew you had to see it.”
She looks at me curiously. “Is it true about you being the stepdaughter of Anthony Sanderson?”
I can feel that familiar shield of emotionless composure coming down, and I’m opening my mouth to politely deflect her question when I stop myself. This is Tessa, whose readily given friendship and loyalty have humbled me from the beginning. She deserves more. She deserves my trust.
“Yes,” I say. “He did something terrible two years ago, something that had an overwhelming impact on me, and I decided I’m not going to let him get away with it anymore. This is my revenge.”
She grins at me. “I knew you were a girl after my own heart, Ava. Give him hell.”
* * * *
Roman
At dinner, Logan announces that Luke and Tessa will be leaving, and Ava is devastated. Then Logan outlines the details of the last official round of the games before the finals, and I’m devastated. I don’t know which one of us the next game is going to be hardest for, me or Ava. After dinner, Ava goes to say good-bye to Tessa, and I hunt down Logan.
Rachel opens the door to their suite, takes one look at my face, and says quickly, “I was just leaving. Take your time.”
“What the hell were you thinking?” I thunder as I walk in on Logan pouring himself a drink at the minibar. He wordlessly grabs a second glass tumbler, pours two fingers of whiskey in it, and hands it to me.
“I was thinking this was a reality TV show, and that this round would drive the ratings up and gain publicity for the hotel,” he says mildly.
“And this is what you came up with?” I ask belligerently. “Seeing if a man who’s not her own Dom can make a submissive come? Seeing if someone else can make Ava come? Motherfucker!” I slam my fist down on the desk. “How am I supposed to stand by and watch another man touch what’s mine? Especially one of the other contestants. Michael is so fucking cruel he makes me look like a pussycat; I don’t want him anywhere near Ava. And Emmett…” I sigh, shaking my head. “Well, he’s Emmett. There’s been tension between us from day one. We don’t exactly have good blood between us.”
“I actually didn’t come up with it,” Logan says, taking a sip of whiskey. “I’ve left the challenges more or less up to the team of writers unless I have a specific idea to make it better. It was my idea to let the audience vote on who gets paired, though. I thought that was pretty brilliant.”
I scowl at him.
“This challenge is the perfect test of a Dom’s control over his submissive, as well as the perfect way to showcase how well trained she is. You know as well as I do that it’s relatively common for Doms to let other Doms play with their submissives. Hell, I’ve seen you give your submissives to other Doms to fuck when they were into that. I don’t know why you’re so upset about this. You can’t be jealous. You said yourself there’s nothing more between you and Ava than a functioning D/s relationship. It’s not like you’re in love with her, right?” There’s a challenge in both his tone and his eyes.
“Fuck you!” I say, sinking down into the chair in defeat. “I can’t fall in love with her. You know that.”
“I think you already have,” Logan says quietly.
* * * *
Ava’s already in our suite when I get back. I walk over to her and wordlessly take her in my arms, inhaling the sweet scent of her as I hold her close in a crushing hug. Her arms wind around my waist as she hugs me back, her body molding to mine.
“Are you okay?” she asks quietly.
With my cheek pressed against her hair, I say grimly, “I don’t want you to do the next challenge.”
She pulls back a little, studying my face. She traces her finger lightly over my lips.
“It’ll be okay,” she reassures me. “You’ve never treated me like I’m fragile. Don’t start now. I can handle it.”
“I don’t know if I can,” I say heavily, sitting down in the leather armchair and pulling her into my lap. “I can’t stand the thought of Michael or Emmett touching you and bringing you pleasure.”
“They won’t,” she assures me. “Remember Western Night?” She smiles wryly. “You’re the cartographer who discovered me. Only you know the hidden roads that lead to my pleasure. It’ll be an easy win for us.” She stops and frowns. “But I don’t like the idea of you making Carly or Rebecca come either.”
“We could quit now and start a life together off the show,” I say, putting into words the plan that has been forming in my mind since I left Logan’s suite. “We wouldn’t win any money, but as it turns out, I have plenty of that.” I add the last part with a smile, but I’m not joking.
The look in her eyes is so tender and full of joy I’m certain she’s going to say yes.
“These games are about more than just the money to me,” she says softly. “Two years ago, someone stole something from me, and winning these games is the only way to get it back. I made his name my safe word so I’d remember exactly what I was giving up if I ever decided to use it. I’m sorry, but I can’t quit now.”