Dungeon Time (Play at Work) (4 page)

Her big move didn’t matter when her best friend’s life was in danger.

Did Mr. Masters know? He and Mr. Marks were close associates, but surely he wouldn’t approve of his behavior.

Thoughts tumbled through her head until finally the four glasses of wine and emotional upset wore her down and she fell asleep in
the car full of all her worldly possessions.

***

Edward waited in Randolph’s office, sleeves rolled up, hunched over spreadsheets, for over fifteen minutes before emerging to find out what delayed him. Frowning, he scooped up a woman’s handbag from the floor and straightened just as Randolph emerged from another office.

“Everything okay?”

The man rubbed his hand on his trousers and winced. “It is now.”

“Uh oh
. I take it that’s Mona’s office?”

Randolph nodded. “It is.” He paused. “Would you mind if we rescheduled? Something suddenly came up.”

Edward considered asking, but one look at the grim expression facing him and he decided not to intrude. “No problem. I have other things I can do this afternoon. Let me grab my jacket, and I’ll get out of your way.” What had Mona done? It couldn’t be too bad; she was crazy for his friend. He approved of her effect on the man, usually. “Just don’t be too hard on her.”

Randolph’s eyes gleamed. “That’s half the fun.”

“Hmm, true.” They paced back to the executive suite, and Edward buttoned his cuffs and pulled on his suit coat. “I want to stop by reception before I go.”

Randolph sat down and rummaged through a drawer. “Oh, right. Good luck.”

Surprised he didn’t offer any more words of caution, Edward left him holding a broad, flat paddle and headed for his own goal.
Anna.
His pulse sped as he neared the doorway to her area. He hadn’t realized how much he counted on her saying yes.

Women generally did say yes to him. But they were ones who frequented the club scene. Those who’d heard of his reputation as a stern Dom and sought him
for that. Anna knew him only as a stuffy businessman who came by for meetings with her boss. According to Randolph, Mona hadn’t shared any of the kinkier aspects of their life with her. She claimed Anna would be shocked—sweet, traditional girl that she was—although she had recently begun borrowing some of Mona’s erotic romance novels. At least she knew their world existed—if only in fiction.

Even if she said yes, would Mona warn her “sweet, traditional” friend off? He slowed outside Mona’s office door,
but soft sniffles from inside kept him moving. No need to embarrass her. He’d ask Edward to talk to her later, request she not do anything to blow his chances until he had a chance to show Anna his real interest.

He’d have to tell her about his life as a Dom, or they’d run into someone from the club scene at the grocery store, and wouldn’t that be special. But he wanted a date or two first. Time to get to know one another.

Step one: ask the girl for a date.

When was the last time he’d done that?

High school.

Turning a corner, he moved with purpose through the archway into reception.

“You’re not Anna.”

The middle-aged black woman glanced up from her computer screen and smiled. “No, I’m Trudy, her supervisor. Can I help you?”

“No, that’s fine,” he muttered, disappointed. “I just wanted to thank her for…for her courtesy earlier.”

“She isn’t in, but I will let her know.
Is there anything else?” He shook his head and the woman turned her attention back to her screen.

Edward headed out the door, at a loss. He’d spent so much time gearing up to talk to Anna, the letdown left him adrift. He’d
arranged to be away from the office all afternoon, in conference with Randolph. Although his plans had fallen through, he had no desire to return. Perhaps he’d go for a run or…well, he didn’t know what. But he couldn’t sit around and wait for her. He needed an excuse to return—to finish the project he and Randolph had begun that afternoon, of course.

I’ll come back tomorrow. Shit
, tomorrow’s Saturday.
After all his preparation and nerves, he’d have to wait until Monday to see if she’d go with him to…dinner? Or a movie? Was that still what vanilla people did on dates?

He couldn’t even use his shibari skills to impress her. Wouldn’t Anna be elegant with her high, full breasts and tiny waist wrapped in silky
, cotton ropes, knots placed just so? His own pattern looping under her buttocks…. He’d rarely met a woman so inspiring. Why did she have to be an innocent?

Why did he want to make a life with one? With her
?

Maybe her absence was for the best, a sign. He should stick with what worked for him and not stray so far outside his comfort zone. If one of the cute subbies didn’t suit him, there would be more along all the time. But would Anna make a good wife for a lawyer and Dom? Even if he gave up the club life or any specific practice of BDSM, his personality would persevere.

She had captured his attention her first day in the office, when he’d strolled in to find her sitting behind the desk, staring at the ringing phone with wide eyes. The fluorescent lighting couldn’t dim the shine on her dark curls, the pink in her cheeks He’d made a joke…something silly like “it won’t bite,” and she’d laughed and relaxed. Since then, he always took a moment to chat her up, doing his best to earn one of her smiles.

Lost in remembrance, Edward slammed his shin into a small
, white sedan parked in the spot next to his car. Pain raced up his leg, and he stumbled back.
Damnit.
Glancing around to see if anyone witnessed his stupidity, he caught sight of a tumble of black curls scattered over the steering wheel of the little vehicle he’d hit.

Anna!
He panicked. Was she unconscious? Sick? He rattled the door, calling her name, and she lifted her head and pushed her hair back. Her lips moved, but with the windows up, he couldn’t hear the words. Edward pointed to the glass and his ear, and she nodded.

When the window rolled down, he reached inside and opened the door then ushered her out. He looked her over for damage—blood or a bruise that could account for her pale cheeks and drooping eyelids. He ran his hands gently over her while she leaned against the bumper, clothing rumpled, one shoe missing. Her waist was so tiny, the flare of her hips sensual and beckoning. By force of will he kept from touching her full breasts.

Finally, as he ran out of things he could check for injury without being accused of sexual harassment, she blinked and jerked back. “Mr. Masters, what are you doing?”

An excellent question. “Are you okay? I saw you slumped over the wheel and feared the worst.”

Cheeks reddened, she focused on the concrete. “I’m fine, thank you.” Anna reached for the door handle. “I have to go. Thank you for your concern.”

Edward grabbed her hands and pulled her to face him again. “Wait, just a minute. Why were you asleep in the car?”

“Please don’t make me say. It’s embarrassing.” She lifted her face, and tears swam in her dark eyes, moisture clinging to the long lashes.

He was puzzled
until he leaned in and smelled wine. He would have noticed it sooner, had he not thought she’d had some kind of accident. “Anna, have you been drinking?”

Nodding, she tugged at his grip, but he held firm. “Please let me go. I told my supervisor I was sick
. When I got to the car and realized I shouldn’t drive, I took a little nap. But I’m fine now, and I want to go home.” Her voice broke, and he took pity and released her.

“It was wise of you not to drive, but are you quite sober?”

“Yes, I wasn’t that drunk to start with, just a little too much wine with lunch, but I think Mona got in big trouble. I think…I think….”

Understanding dawned. “What do you think?”

She whispered. “I think Mr. Marks might have hit her.”

Tension whooshed out of him. Then reknotted his
shoulders. Anna had stumbled upon a situation she was ill-equipped to understand. “Are you afraid Randolph is abusive to Mona?”

She nodded, biting her lip.

“Has she ever said anything to indicate she is afraid of him or he harms her?”

“Well, no, but….”

“It’s hard to explain, and you will have to ask her yourself, but I can assure you he loves her very much. And he would never do anything to her that she didn’t want.”

This time she did jerk away. “Are you saying she likes to be hurt? That she’s co-dependent and needs an intervention?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

I’m making a real hash of this.
And nothing in the conversation gave him an opportunity to say, “Hey, Anna, how about dinner and a movie?”

Struggling to find another topic, he glanced at her car, which was stuffed to the rooftop with clothes and suitcases. “Going somewhere?”

“Huh?” She followed his line of sight and jumped. “What a day this has turned out to be. I’m moving today. I need to pick up the key in—” She checked her watch. “—two hours.”

Having shifted the conversation from Randolph and Mona, he made a mental note to remind his careless friend that Mona’s office was not soundproof. “Can you move in any earlier?”

“I don’t know. I made the appointment for when I get off work. But there’s an onsite manager. I probably can.”

“Moving day is always chaotic.”

“Don’t laugh, but I am leaving home for the first time. In my mid-twenties.” She shrugged. “Lame, huh?”

He focused on
her pretty, heart-shaped face and glowing complexion, her curvy figure. His ideal wife—even if it meant he never darkened the door of a dungeon again. He pushed aside all thoughts of ropes and chains, kneeling girls, and St. Andrew’s crosses. His leather could go to a thrift store.

“Could you use some help unloading the car at your new place?”

“Mr. Masters, of course not.” Her amazement was not unexpected, and he would do whatever it took to convince her. He might not know how to deal with an ordinary date, but he hoped he could be her knight in shining armor. Or in black leather.

“Do you have anyone else coming to help? Your brothers, maybe?”

“Heavens, no. My family is very unhappy about my decision. They are old-world, traditional. Girls—and even boys—stay at home until they marry. Unless they join the army or something—the boys, not the girls. If I joined the military, I’d be disowned for sure. Girls don’t do that in my family.” She wrapped her arms around her torso. “Sorry for babbling. I took a big stand, and it will be a while before I can show up for Sunday dinner.”

He nodded, more sure than ever he’d have to stick with a vanilla life if he chose Anna for his own. “So, you need me.”

She smiled, and his world lit up. “It’s a third-floor walkup. Offer still open?”

“Give me the address, and I’ll be over as soon as I can stop by my place and change.”
What better way to get into the lady’s good graces—and her home.
“We can send out for pizza after we finish.”

They would be having dinner together after all.

Anna arrived at her new apartment in less than ten minutes. She could be at work in twenty by bike—if she owned one. And it would be one of her first purchases. She could ride on the nearby beach boardwalk on the weekends, too. Most of the women in her family started out curvy and ended up overweight, a curse she planned to avoid if possible.

Already she’d lost one fiancé to a skinny blonde.

With her clothes and boxes piled to the roof, she couldn’t see a thing out of the rear view, so she would use the side mirrors and be extra careful. Not tipsy at all, she still didn’t want to be pulled over, and the thoughts crowding her mind made it hard enough to pay attention to traffic. A quick call to her new landlord had confirmed her keys were waiting in the manager’s apartment, and the woman would be in all afternoon, so her move-in was a go.

But her relocation, the biggest thing in her life until a half hour before, paled in comparison to her shock at the turn the afternoon had taken. Mr. Masters, her boss’s big shot attorney, was on the way to help her carry her tangled belongings upstairs.

She couldn’t sort out what it meant. He always stopped by her desk to say hello, spoke a few kind words, and went on his way. Although friendlier than many of the executives she met, he’d never implied he had any personal interest in her.

Please don’t let it be pity
. He’d come upon her sleeping off a liquid lunch. How humiliating. She ground her teeth in frustration. He probably just wanted to make sure she didn’t fall on the steps and break her stupid neck, leaving his friend without a receptionist.

But that made no sense. Rumor around the office claimed he was very wealthy
, even without his extensive practice. Old money. If he just wanted to lend help to a pathetic white-collar worker, wouldn’t he have sent a laborer, maybe an office boy?

Anna found no logical explanation for Mr. Masters’ offer.

She pulled into the driveway of the beach-adjacent complex. It took every penny she could spare to rent there, but she yearned for the ocean breeze on her face. The old building needed work, its beige stucco façade showing wear. Still, she loved it and looked forward to her freedom. Her parents were all the way across the Vincent Thomas Bridge in San Pedro.