Slave To Love (14 page)

“Yeah, how’s the conference? Are you in your room?”

Shit. Jace had told Aaron he had planned on going to a conference this week. Until the meeting with LaMarca, he had looked forward to the conference and getting up with his industry buddies.

“I skipped the conference. I’m back home.” Jace kicked off his shoes and leaned back in his chair. Before Aaron could question his decision, he continued. “My original plan didn’t work. I’m going to have to try something else. I needed time to come home and regroup.”

“Okay.” A pause lingered before Aaron spoke again. “Come over to dinner, man. You sound like someone with the world on his shoulders. You don’t need to be. Let someone help you.”

Jace shook his head. “I’m good. I may need to take some time for myself, but I’ll be around.”

“I’ll watch out for things here. Don’t worry about it.”

“No, I’ll be reachable. I’ll talk to you later.” Jace disconnected the call.

He tried to do some work but his mind ran over too many things. He stood and went to the window. Activity in the house seemed to have settled down. Jace wondered if Taren wandered through his newly remodeled home alone. Plus, hunger gnawed at his belly. With his late breakfast and working through lunch, he had become ravenous.

Jace walked out of the guesthouse and made his way over to the main house. When he walked through the back door, silence met him initially. Then he came face to face with his dream space. His family room had been transformed into a Dominant’s fantasy.

At one side of the room sat a huge St. Andrew’s cross, complete with wrist restraints hanging from the top peaks, and ankle straps at the bottom. He moved over to the piece of equipment and ran his hand over the thick, smooth wood. Black leather padding covered the center.

When he turned to the right, he spotted a padded sawhorse. He could see Taren leaned over on this piece of equipment, her pert ass in the air waiting to get a proper flogging. He slid his hand over the top bar, recalling the times in his past that he used this toy.

To his left sat a high-back wooden chair. The oversized piece furniture looked too substantial to do anything with as far as play. He touched the back of the chair and found some movement. He tipped it back and found that the whole chair tilted backwards almost to a reclining position. With the straps on the arms and legs, he imagined the device would be perfect to tickle a poor submissive or run a feather over her body.

A red padded platform occupied the center of the room. It looked to be made of the same wood as the chair and cross. Besides play, Jace saw himself having sex with Taren on it, thrusting hard into her until he made them both come. Yes, he definitely needed to stay away from her, but didn’t know if he could.

All types of implements covered the other walls. Paddles, whips, chains, handcuffs, canes, floggers of all types, even violet wands. He even found two stations for wax play and needle play. A chain hung from the ceiling. With a remote he saw on the wax play station, he pressed a down button, which lowered the chain.

Damn. In a day, the crew created his ideal dungeon. He wanted a play area like this. As soon as he thought they had missed one crucial item, his gaze fell upon two oversized couches, perfect for aftercare.

Jace walked toward the kitchen at the same time Taren headed in that direction. She ran into his chest.

“Oh, so sorry. I didn’t know you had come in.” Taren took a few steps back. “Interesting, huh?” She nodded her head toward the room.

He nodded. “What do you think?”

Taren parted her lips like she wanted to respond, but stopped. “I have dinner if you’re hungry.”

Jace had to crack her to find out what she thought about all this. Could she be a submissive if she couldn’t voice her opinion about the toys?

Chapter Nine

Taren remained quiet throughout dinner, a first for her. She liked dinnertime. Or maybe she enjoyed it with her parents. The three of them did all of their talking over meals. Jace seemed content to keep silent, only letting out a grunt of appreciation here and there whenever he tasted something he liked. He took a bite of his fried pork chop and moaned.

“You like it?” She picked up her glass of iced tea and took a sip.

“It’s okay. You made all of this?” He swept his hand over the table full of food.

“This is nothing. It’s just the two of us. I like it better when I can cook for a big group.” She smiled as she recalled all of her family get-togethers. Would doing this show ruin that bond? “My mother never taught me to cook. She would get me out of the kitchen whenever she was in there. So I taught myself. I’d watch cooking shows, take a class here and there. I didn’t let someone telling me no stop me.”

She hoped Jace got the message loud and clear. When Taren put her mind to something, she accomplished her goal.

“You’ll make some foodie Dom or a big man very happy.” He smirked. “Or woman.”

She giggled, but the thought hadn’t escaped her mind that the best person who could show her the ways of this new lifestyle could be a woman. The relationship didn’t have to be romantic for it to work. Taren wanted to feel challenged and protected.

“So being a good cook would make a Dom or Domme happy?” She picked at her meal while waiting for an answer.

“Being able to deliver the best at what is expected would make a Dom or Domme happy. So if he or she wanted you to be able to sing a lullaby each night before bed, you had better be able to sing like Mariah Carey. Or if your Dom wants a hand job or oral sex, you can’t be a prude.” Jace stared at her while he ate.

He reminded her of a lion devouring an elk, and looking at her as his dessert.

“So sex is involved in these relationships?” Taren started to feel some heat consuming her body.

“A good BDSM relationship involves—”

She interrupted him. “Safe, sane, and consensual, right?”

“Yes, that’s the credo. But, to be with a Dom or to be a submissive, there has to be a high level of trust mixed with some vulnerability. Everyone is exposed here, and I don’t mean physically.” He wiped his mouth before he continued. “Subs and slaves are sometimes asked to be naked because BDSM play is about sensations.” He picked up his knife. “Close your eyes.”

Taren peered down at his hand and looked back up at his eyes, the same ones that reminded her of a ravenous lion. She shook her head. “No.”

“Why is that?” He moved closer to her.

She cleared her throat and peered off to the side for an escape route. “I don’t really know you to trust you. You scare me.”

Jace nodded. “Fair enough. That was my intent. Had you closed your eyes, I would have done this.” He set the knife down very carefully so as to not make a sound. Then he picked up a clean napkin and swirled it over Taren’s bare arm.

The sensation stiffened the hairs on the back of her neck and over her arms. Unexpectedly, her nipples hardened. She tried curving her back in to make them less noticeable, but the tightness of her shirt would have given her aroused state away no matter her position. She pulled her arm back and touched the spot that he tickled.

“If you were going to do that, why act like you wanted to hurt me? That felt very nice.” She rubbed her tingly flesh to recreate the feeling, but couldn’t.

“It’s all a mind game. People don’t ride roller coasters to take naps. You aren’t doing this to learn how to knit. You like the unknown, the fear, the extremes. You want to experience the pain and the pleasure. Am I right?” He picked up his fork and continued eating. When Taren didn’t answer, he continued talking. “If you’re doing this for some other reason, you’re going to be disappointed. You can’t find love. You can’t find a soul mate. You can find the person who makes you forget your problems for a while. You can find a like-minded individual who won’t judge you.”

“You know a lot about BDSM.” Taren rubbed her hand across the back of her neck. “Are you into it?”

Jace didn’t answer. He served himself another helping of rice and gravy, and kept his head down as he ate.

Not content to let the conversation go, she pressed on for more information from this sullen roommate. “Are you married?”

“No. I told you before that I’m not the marrying kind.” He shoved a roll in his mouth. “Have you found your Mr. Right yet?”

She hadn’t expected him to ask anything about her. “No. Being here has taken the pressure off my family and friends to set me up with guys I have no interest in dating. I had a boyfriend back in high school but that’s it. Since then, I’ve only been concentrating on my studies and work.”

“Please don’t tell me that high school for you was only like two years ago.” He chuckled.

“No. Maybe five.”

His eyes widened. “How old are you?”

She swallowed. “Twenty-two.” She jutted her chin out to give off a serious and determined demeanor. “I’ve graduated college. I’m old enough to drink. I know what it is I want.”

Jace laughed. “Hardly. Your egg hasn’t finished cooking yet. Give it a few years. You’ll figure yourself out.”

She threw her fork down. “I’m so sick and tired of people telling me what it is that I want and need. I’m capable of figuring out my own life. I don’t need help or advice.” She balled her hand into a fist and slammed it on the table. When she noticed Jace’s laughter, she pressed him for information. “How old are you?”

He peered up at her. “Old enough to know that women your age will move on to the next thing that interests them faster than a blink of an eye.” He took a couple of big gulps of his tea before he said, “Thirty-five. Old enough to know better.”

She blinked. “Wow.”

Jace started to set his glass down but stopped midair. “What?”

“You look younger than that. Way, way younger. I thought you were in your mid-to-late twenties.” She chewed on her lower lip as she scanned him.

She needed to be drinking what he drank.

“Thanks. I try to watch what I eat and exercise.” He lowered his eyes and looked pensive before he released a chuckle. “Mom tried to get me and my brother into dancing. He took to it. I have two left feet.” He jutted his thumb over his shoulder. “Swimming. That’s what I love. I could stay out in the water for hours.”

“And naked, I see.” She felt her face get hot as she continued eating her dinner. “So only one brother?”

Jace nodded. “What about you?”

“Only kid. I wished I had siblings, someone to share secrets with and stuff.”

“Consider yourself lucky. You never got to be disappointed when your brother or sister let you down.” Jace’s voice trailed off to a growl before he continued eating.

Taren felt his pain as she watched him. Before she could ask him about the problems that existed between him and his brother, he surprised her with his new line of questioning. 

“You never answered me before. What do you think of the dungeon?” Jace nodded his head back to the room behind the kitchen.

Taren knew she should have moved their dinner to the formal dining room to give them some space from the play area. “It’s one thing to read about it and see this in a movie or TV show. It’s another to see it all up close. I’m glad they didn’t paint the walls red.”

“Why is that?” Jace asked.

“I don’t want this to be reminiscent of anything else anyone has seen before. I like that the walls are a light color. I want viewers to be able to see every piece of equipment hanging on the walls.” She nodded. “Yeah, this will be good.”

“For the show or you?”

Taren glanced at him before dropping her gaze to her food. “Both. I think if anything were to be hidden, it wouldn’t be the same. I want to know what’s coming at me.”

“But you may not.” Jace chopped a piece of his chop and popped it in his mouth. When she didn’t respond, he clarified. “You might be blindfolded.”

She nodded enthusiastically. “I know. And I know about panic clips and safe words.”

“From what? Books?” He snickered.

“Yes, nonfiction. I didn’t want to read anything that glamorized the lifestyle.” She smiled. “I did watch one show. Do you want to see something with me?”

She noticed how Jace stared at her, like he wanted to tell her no. Then his face softened. 

“What is it that you want to show me?” He cocked his head to the side.

“Finish dinner. I’ll clean up and then I’ll show you.” Taren tried hard not to wolf her food down, but she couldn’t help but feel like a kid at Christmas.

After dinner, she put away the leftovers and cleaned the kitchen. She banished Jace to the living room. She didn’t want him going to the family room and getting any ideas. She couldn’t help but think about him and the things he could do to her in that room.

With the kitchen cleaned, Taren stood in it for a while. She hadn’t thought about her plan before she’d blurted it to Jace. Now that the house had been transformed into the set for
Slave to Love
, the only TV in the house existed in her bedroom. They had been removed from the spare bedrooms. She didn’t know what Jace had in the guesthouse. That place would be even more intimate.

“Taren, are you okay?” Jace stood in the entryway that separated the kitchen from the living room area.

“Uh, yeah. I was thinking.” She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and walked up to him.

“Did you still want to show me something?” He looked down at her.

“Yes, but you have to come to my bedroom.”

****

Since he’d met her, Jace had wanted to hear those words from her.

“Unless you have a TV in your guesthouse.” She pointed in the direction of where Jace had been sleeping.

“Your room is fine.” He followed her.

When she opened the door, he remained frozen in his spot. She’d transformed his dark sanctuary to a bright, airy abomination. A light pastel pink shade now covered his formerly dark walls. A cream-colored rug covered the black carpet on the floor. She even had his dark comforter set changed out to something light blue. It looked like an Easter nightmare. The stench of fresh paint hung in the air.

“Wow. This room is…” He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to scream about how she came into his life and disrupted it, but he couldn’t.