Lyon on a Leash (14 page)

Was she regretting her decision to bring him to Atlanta? Or was this one of her quirky things she’d warned him about? He didn’t know, but this week was a test for them. If things didn’t pan out, instead of returning to Memphis to pick up his car for a permanent move, he’d simply be going home. His chest tightened at the thought.

“Let me give you a tour of the place.” Arms stretched upward, she twisted side to side before striding ahead of him. His gaze landed on her perfect ass. Since they’d had sex, the teasing and playfulness had stopped. He missed the way her eyes darkened right before she said something completely off the wall. And the pleasure that lit her face when she discovered what she considered a shopping bargain. A hundred fifty dollars for a purse was no bargain, in his opinion. He’d changed that opinion when he saw the same bag in a department store for four hundred.

They were both dealing with a lot of changes, but he missed her easygoing, laid-back antics from when they’d first begun this journey.

“All the bedrooms have private baths. This can be your bedroom for when you stay in the main house on weekends.” She walked into a room down the hall from hers. “Or you can pick one of the other rooms.”

The room was done up in yellows and oranges, with hints of red, reminding him of sunrises and sunsets. There was a large picture of a couple frolicking in water beneath the setting sun, hung over the queen-sized bed. He stared at it for a few moments, allowing the beauty and simplicity of the piece to flow over him.

“This is fine,” he said, pleased that their bedrooms were on the first floor. Plus, they were positioned off the same hall.

She smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes, but she seemed genuinely pleased. “Good. There’s a space here you can turn into your office later. For now, you can set up a space in the room over the garage.”

The space she wandered into received a lot of natural light, was a nice size, and wasn’t too far from the kitchen. Had she done that on purpose? Not that it mattered; he could work here with no problem. “This’ll work fine. Thanks.”

She nodded and went down the hall a bit. “Here’s the kitchen. And Marcus….” She waited until he looked at her. “Food is prepared here, no kink. No sex. Nothing like that. I don’t want any naked bits near where my food is prepared.”

He nodded. There were so many other places they could play. Losing the kitchen wasn’t that big of a deal.

“We entered the mudroom through the garage.” She pointed to the door they’d entered earlier. “You can either come into the kitchen or head to the living room from the mudroom.”

He nodded, appreciating the layout. Bringing in groceries from the garage would be a breeze, but it was great to be able to bypass the area if he wanted to go straight into the living room or her bedroom. He was impressed with the size of the kitchen and high-quality appliances.

“This is really nice. You spend a lot of time in here?” he teased, picking up a crystal wine flute with tags still stuck on them.

She snorted. “No, not much. Those were a gift.” She pointed to the other three glasses that made up a set. “That’s as far as I got with them.”

Chuckling, he moved from counter to counter, opening drawers, acquainting himself with where things were.

“I guess we need to go grocery shopping. There’s not much food here.” She closed the cupboard above the counter.

“You look like you’re ready to fall down. What if we go out, grab a bite to eat, and shop tomorrow?”

Her hand flew up to cover her yawn. “No. I think we need to get this done today. Give me a few minutes to rest. We can leave in an hour. Go ahead, unpack. Check upstairs and the basement. I’ll answer any questions when I get up or while we get groceries.” She walked out of the room without a backward glance.

Leaning against the counter, he looked around at his new domain. “Not much food? What does that mean?” Curious, he walked over and opened the refrigerator. There was a jar of mayo, half-empty bottles of ketchup and mustard, three types of olives, some dated yogurt, and wilted lettuce. The almond milk was dated as well. Opening the cabinets he saw dishes, small appliances, and cutlery. Puzzled, he stepped to the door he thought led to the laundry room. Instead, it was filled with shelves. Empty shelves. She was wrong. There was
no
food. His stomach growled in disappointment.

Grocery shopping became his number one priority.

“First things first,” he murmured as he left to climb the stairs in the garage to his living quarters. The door opened into a sunny, furnished bedroom. He was surprised by how large it was. Dropping his luggage inside the room, he walked around, gently touching the wood headboard, matching dresser, and chest. A large flat-screen TV hung on the wall, along with a digital clock and department store pictures. He opened the door to the bathroom. It was about the same size as the one in his condo back home. All in all, this was a comfortable space with plenty of room to set up a temporary office. Temporary, that was the word. To get what he wanted in the end, he needed to integrate his life with his Mistress’, and that would be harder if he lived over here.

After unpacking his personal items, he returned to the main house to peruse the area set aside for his eventual office. He liked the openness of the space. His drawing board and other work tools would fit nicely. His clients knew he was on vacation and wouldn’t be back until next week. That would give him more than enough time to have things up and running upstairs. He hummed as he envisioned working here. So far, his current Mistress appeared steadier than his previous one. That was a good thing.

As usual, thinking about his work brought him both inner peace and excitement. He set up his laptop and turned it on to check his emails. A catalog job he had bid on a month ago had been awarded to him.

“Oh yeah,” he murmured as he read the terms and the payment schedule. This was right on target. He’d take the first payment and open an IRA at the bank. At the age of 33, he’d never given much thought about retirement. But after his Mistress required it of him, he’d realized she was right. A savings account would only go so far. He needed to prepare for his future. After returning a few emails, he pulled up one of his favorite websites.

They had discussed menus and various foods while in New York. There were some special dishes he wanted to prepare for her. As he clicked on the recipes, they automatically downloaded the required ingredients in the right quantities, so the items became his grocery list. He continued with all the recipes he planned to prepare. When he checked out his list, he was surprised both by how long it was and by how many items overlapped.

Next he added basics: milk, eggs, sugar, flour, and so on. They needed to discuss the types of wines she liked with her meals and anything else she wanted in the house to munch on. Armed with a basic food list, he relaxed, knowing he had some direction. He glanced at his watch. The hour had come and gone. He supposed she was still resting.

Marcus walked through every room in the house, with the exception of hers. It was larger than he’d originally thought. The formal dining room was huge. The living room had a classy, interior-design feel. The family room was large and cozy, with a sectional in front of a large, flat-screen TV. There was a vintage popcorn maker in the corner.

Upstairs were three more bedrooms with private baths. Each bedroom was elegantly furnished with a seasonal theme. With its bright hues, his room represented summer. The fall room was done in shades of brown and rust. Winter was shades of pale blue and cream. The spring bedroom sported greens, darker blues, and some accents of pink. The amount of coordinated detail surprised him. All of this and she lived alone? He couldn’t imagine the expense, let alone the time involved, to create and implement each theme. There were laundry rooms both upstairs and downstairs. A circular loft area, bordered with bookshelves. Pictures of all kinds lined the walls. The open area doubled as a hall connecting all the bedrooms together. He stepped to the railing and looked over into the foyer. The tile gleamed, the alcoves held small vases and the curved stairway ended at the end of the entry way.

Downstairs, he opened a door, thinking it led to the basement. Instead, it led to the back yard. To the right was a full-sized tennis court. He grinned, excited at the prospect of hitting some balls. With a few long strides he reached the court. The lines were faded but still visible enough for play. The net was missing on one side. The overgrown weeds around the perimeter were signs of non-use.
Pity
. Another item on his to-do list: he’d have the net repaired and the court taken care of. Hopefully he could tempt her to play a game or two with him.

To the left, up a small distance, was a long, dome-shaped building. It was sheltered by a row of trees, affording privacy. Was that the pool she had told him about? Heading in that direction, he stopped when he reached the solid wooden door. It was locked, as it should be. He moved to one of four large windows, cupped his eyes with his palms, and looked in. A long pool was in the middle of the building. There were patio chairs lining each side. What appeared to be a Jacuzzi was at one end. There were a couple of shower heads, and doors leading to what he assumed were bathrooms or a locker storage area. He gazed through another window to look at the opposite end of the building.

A large cage was tucked away in the corner. He smiled at the hooks placed randomly on the walls. A long massage table was near the cage. Ah…he’d wondered how active she was in the lifestyle. She’d turned the pool house into a place for serious bondage.

He could imagine a long soak after a hard play session, but from what he’d discovered so far about his Mistress, she wasn’t a sadist. Inflicting physical pain didn’t appear to rate high on her list. He released a sigh. Wearing stripes on his back from an intense session was a badge of honor for him, not to mention the endorphin high. Perhaps they could come to some sort of compromise. It was something to think about.

The more he looked at the hooks and cage, his imagination took off. He could see her securing his cuffs to the hook or locking him in the cage. His adrenaline spiked as he wondered when they’d have time to play. He couldn’t wait. With some hesitation, he returned to the house to see if she was ready to go shopping.

“I wondered where you were. Did you see the pool?” she asked as he re-entered the house.

“Yes. I hope we can play out there soon.”

Looking rested, she’d changed into jeans, a short lavender blouse, and short jean jacket. Her reddish-brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, highlighting her perfect features.

“We will. Did you see everything?” She picked up a set of keys from a hook.

“I haven’t made it downstairs yet. I like the bedrooms. You did them based on seasons, right?”

Her chest lifted as she beamed. The small space between her teeth drew his eye. He ached to slide his tongue over it again.

“Yeah, I told the decorator I wanted each room to have its own personality. I’m pleased with how it turned out.”

Someone else had decorated the rooms? The knowledge dampened his enthusiasm a bit. Was she that busy? Would she have time for a relationship? He squashed that thought as he grabbed his grocery list and followed her to her car.

There were two in the garage. Her Mercedes, and a mid-sized SUV. She went to the Mercedes. It was apparent she had no idea what kind of grocery shopping he planned to do.

“Mistress, I think we should drive the SUV. I need to stock up on supplies.” That was putting a serious spin on things. He planned to buy everything from spices to steaks.

Her brow creased as she turned back to look at him. He waited near the larger vehicle. Indecision riddled her features.

“It
is
empty.” She sounded resigned. “Tell you what, follow me and we’ll take both.”

He nodded, certain he’d fill both vehicles. She pulled a key off her ring and handed it to him. She glanced at the paper in his hand.

“Is that your grocery list?”

He nodded.

“You plan to buy all that?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“This is going to take some time, huh?” She rubbed her forehead as she met his gaze.

“Probably, since I don’t know the layout of the stores. Maybe we can grab a bite to eat first or halfway. But we do need food in the house.”

“I know. I know.” Frustration coated her words. “I hate grocery shopping.”

He jerked in surprise. “We spent two hours in the store yesterday for you to decide on a pair of boots. How can you say you hate shopping?”

“Grocery shopping. I don’t like to grocery shop.” Her voice rose. “There’s a big difference.”

Skeptical, he nodded. “One feeds your belly and the other feeds your…?”

“Soul. Finding the perfect pair of shoes to protect your feet while complementing everything else you have on is a challenge. It feeds your soul when you meet that challenge.”

He didn’t believe that for a moment, but remained silent.

“It does,” she said, her tone stubborn and petulant.

“Okay.”

She glared at him and returned to her car. He got in and started her other vehicle. Fifteen minutes later they were in the store, each with a cart. It took him a few minutes to become oriented with the store, but not long to fill his cart. He was surprised his Mistress stayed close by and only put the items in her basket that he requested. After both carts were filled, they checked out and placed the items in the truck. They worked well together as a team and it wasn’t long before both vehicles were filled, as he’d expected. The wine store was last and she insisted on purchasing her “own damn wine”.