Slave To Love (2 page)

Ananda. No way would Jace’s mother dare call her by her BDSM scene name, Begonia. Hell, Jace didn’t know if his mother had seen the
Love My Way
TV show and knew how her first born met his wife of five years. Then again, Jace hadn’t seen the show at all when it had aired or when it came to online streaming sites or on repeat on Cine-tastic.

“I don’t doubt that.” He looked at the door again.

“Bad liar.”

Jace dropped his gaze to his mother. “Why do you think that I’m not telling you the truth?”

She snickered. “A mother knows.” She put her hand to the side of his face and urged him to bring his head down so that she could kiss his cheek. “See you inside. You’ll be great.”

Aileen turned to the grand ballroom. Jace watched her until he could no longer see her. When he turned, he saw someone else who had become like his brother Eagan but couldn’t exactly be classified in the same category, and it had nothing to do with him being African American. Since he worked for Jace, Jace had to keep the boundaries set.

Aaron Slater strolled into the hotel with his wife, Cherryce, hand in hand. Aaron’s golden brown skin tone looked like a stark contrast against Cherryce’s dark mahogany complexion. They did look good together.

Although he did love Aaron like a brother and trusted him, seeing him so happy in his long-term marriage forced Jace to look away. He couldn’t bear to view something he could never have.

“Hey, man. What are you doing out here?” Aaron slapped palms with Jace and pulled him in for a half-hug. “Shouldn’t you be in there, getting ready to drop some knowledge?”

“Needed some time to myself.” Jace leaned down and gave Aaron’s wife a kiss on her cheek.

“You look so handsome.” Cherryce smiled. She nudged Aaron’s side. “See. I knew I should have brought that girl from church.” Her deep Bostonian accent came through even when she tried to whisper.

Jace took a deep breath and kept his mouth closed for fear of offending the only people not related to him who had his back. Cherryce, with her kind, brown eyes, always tried hooking up Jace with different women. The women she chose for him didn’t match his type. Too bad that didn’t deter her.

“Drop that, honey.” Aaron raised his hand up to Jace. “It’s my man’s night.”

“Yeah, you two go inside. I’ll be there in a minute.” He patted Aaron’s upper arm as he walked by to go to the ballroom.

Jace glanced at his watch again before peering at the door. Eagan wouldn’t be showing up tonight. He didn’t know why that news shocked him. Even before their father had passed away, Eagan had started pulling himself back from Jace and their mother.

Eagan couldn’t have blamed his aversion to Jace on BDSM. Both participated in that. At least at one time they did, just not in the same circles. The fifteen-year age difference prevented Jace from mingling with Eagan’s clubs and groups.

Once
Love My Way
aired, Jace stopped all association with the lifestyle. He had been his own man before the show. Then people thought he’d became a Dom because of Eagan. Part of that had been true. Jace knew he wanted to be a Dom before he knew what to call his predilection.

To be seen as a copycat and worse pushed Jace to the edge. With a few exceptions, he hadn’t looked back on his old life. As he stared at the front door, his former life came waltzing through it.

In a sea of beige and muted colors in the hotel, Michelle Jaxon, his last serious relationship, strolled into the place like a dream. She gasped when her gaze met his. She tried pretending not to notice him, keeping her head down and her stare averted.

“Michelle?” Jace called out to her.

She stepped up her pace.

“Hey.” He approached her. Before he could touch her arm, her breath caught and she stumbled back.

“Don’t touch me, okay.” The African-American woman folded her arms over her chest and glanced around as though looking for an escape route or an ally.

Jace didn’t think she would need either one to talk to him. He took a step back. “I wanted to say hello. It’s been a long time since we—”

“Please, don’t remind me.” She shook her head. “I looked at you and thought I was the luckiest sista in the world.” She smirked. “Tall, gorgeous man. Broad shoulders. Good body. Intelligent conversation. Then you got weird.”

Jace never thought he would have been classified as a weirdo. He knew he should have stuck with his circle of friends. He liked Michelle. She seemed down to earth and, more importantly, down for anything.

“We need to talk.” Maybe if Michelle knew that Jace had stopped his involvement in the BDSM lifestyle, she would see him differently. If nothing else, they could at least be friends.

 “I didn’t come here for you.” Michelle peered around him. “I’m seeing someone else.”

“I’m happy for you.” His mother couldn’t accuse him of lying again.

Jace had suspected that Michelle would move on to someone else, someone safe, someone vanilla.

The brief relationship they had might not have worked out for them, but Michelle carried a shapely, voluptuous frame that Jace liked holding at one time. Her rich
café au lait
complexion complemented her dark brown eyes. She’d even cut her hair to a short ’do where the back looked like she kept it shaved close to her head and the front she left long and sweeping over one eye.

When they had dated, Jace loved staring at her full lips. Now she kept them in a tight line like she fought to hold back the venomous words she wanted to spit at him.

He hadn’t intended on scaring her when he’d shown her a black scarf as a potential blindfold. Until her, he hadn’t thought about his old lifestyle in years. She’d taken the spanking during sex very well. The mention of whips and canes had her running for the hills.

“I hope he treats you right.” Jace clasped his hands together to keep from touching her.

“He doesn’t want to tie me up and whip the skin off my back.”

A couple standing close by glanced at Jace and Michelle for a moment when she made the inflammatory statement. Jace took a couple of steps away from them in the hopes that Michelle would follow. She hadn’t.

Jace kept hit tone forceful and even. “I didn’t either, had you allowed me to explain.”

“You didn’t need to tell me anything because it’s not like you would listen to me anyway. I’m not down for what you want in a relationship.” She shook her head, making her perfectly coifed hair flip back and forth in front of her face.

Her assessment of him felt like a stab in his heart. Jace liked to think when he had performed as a Dom that he had been one who did listen to his submissives and slaves. He understood that the relationship had to be a two-way street, even if he had been the one to direct the traffic.

Billy Bob waddled out to the lobby area. This time he sidled up to Michelle. When he wrapped his arm around her waist, the pieces fell into place. First Eagan had been a no-show, and now Michelle dated a troll man without a name. At every turn, Jace felt like a loser despite being recognized for his achievement in his industry.

“I see you met the love of my life.” Billy Bob squeezed her in close to him. “Michelle, this is—”

Jace cut the man off. “We know each other.” He waited to see if Michelle would fill in the blanks about their six-month union nearly a year ago.

“Titus said that after the ceremony tonight, he wanted to talk with some other builders.”

Titus. Damn, Jace had been way off in his guess.

“He’s planning on expanding.” Michelle turned to him and smiled, a first since she’d come into the hotel. “He’s going to be huge.”

“And I have this accounting genius by my side to thank.” Titus kissed her cheek. “She gave me the strength to be all I could be.”

Jace couldn’t decide which hurt him more, hearing about Titus’s plan to expand a business similar to Jace’s or the fact that his former flame found happiness with someone else, someone who apparently appreciated her more than he had.

Jace peered over at the doorway to the ballroom. The organizer waved her hand to usher them back into the room.

“Looks like it’s show time.” Titus patted Jace on his shoulder. “See you in there.”

Michelle looked away from Jace as she walked arm-in-arm with her new man. Jace strolled by them at a faster pace to get to the person running the show.

“You’re not announcing the winner now, right? Are you all serving dinner first?” Jace pointed into the room.

The slender, older woman blinked. “Um, yes. Dinner will be served. Then we’ll announce this year’s winner.”

“Great. I need five minutes.” He didn’t wait for her to respond. Jace darted off down a side hall, careless of where it led. He needed some space after encountering his past and coming to terms with his future.

****

Twenty-two year olds like Taren Kerrigan didn’t want to spend Friday nights out with their parents. Her father made her feel obligated to come to this industry event under the guise that he could pick up new business and Taren could possibly meet someone—a man her parents would like, someone like her father. Taren felt stuck between her helicopter duo, who made sure to always keep a hand on her.

Consuella and Del Kerrigan flanked both sides of Taren as they sat at a table with a group of Del’s employees from his insurance company, no one Taren knew. Not that it mattered. Her parents kept their full attention on her.

“What am I doing here?” Taren didn’t bother lowering her voice or whispering. Since she sat between her parents, she had to project for both of them to hear her.

“I told you. Homeowners need insurance companies. I want these builders to refer to us with their buyers.” Del straightened his tie.

Taren’s father had always been a stable influence in her life, her rock, and always overprotective. At her age, Taren didn’t need or want his protection. She wanted freedom. She yearned to live.

“Fine for you and Mom.” Taren pointed to Connie. “I don’t need to be here. You’re not accepting an award. Some guy I don’t know is. I shouldn’t be here.” She shook her head.

“I know what you mean.” A young, white, thin man, who sat across from her, winked.

Taren pretended to gag. She didn’t need someone else acting empathetic to her plight.

The man blinked and looked down at the table.

“You’re being rude.” Connie patted Taren on her arm and nearly hissed in Taren’s ear.

“No.” Taren pushed back from her. “I’m being real. I’m not needed here.”

A waiter came to their table with a huge platter full of plates of food. He placed a plate down for each guest. Taren peered down at the rubbery chicken covered in a light-colored sauce with sallow corn and anemic pieces of carrots next to it.

Connie turned to the waiter. “The lights in here won’t be turned back up too quickly, will they?”

“Mom, please stop.” Taren held her mother’s wrist.

“Stop what? Stop caring? I can’t do that.” She shook her head.

Connie had cut her hair short in the back of her head and left the rest of her dark brown hair with crisp curls made by a curling iron. Her blood red lipstick gave her lips a deceptively sinister appearance. As always, her stylish mother made Del match his outfit to hers. Or maybe they made that decision together, that she would rock a red lace dress while he sported a black suit with a red shirt and black-and-red tie.

Together, the three of them looked like the picture-perfect African-American family. If someone took their picture right now, Taren wouldn’t have been smiling.

Taren leaned over closer to her mother. “Mom, after this, the three of us need to talk.”

“It might be late. You really need to get your sleep.” Connie picked up her fork and knife and started cutting into her chicken. “We can talk in the morning.”

“No, it has to be tonight.” Taren shouldn’t have waited so long to break the news. Every time she’d tried bringing it up, her parents found ways to shut down her request.

“Why don’t you eat your dinner? It’s going to get cold.” Without taking a break, Connie reached over to Taren’s plate with her fork and knife, and began cutting Taren’s food up for her.

The young man across the table who had spoken to her before gave her a look of pity. No way would Taren take that from some guy she didn’t know. She grabbed her mother’s wrists and moved them off her plate.

“Mom, stop.” She released Connie and had to take several deep breaths before continuing.

“I was only trying to help. You need to know that it’s okay to ask for help.” Connie placed her utensils down on her plate.

“How are my two firecrackers doing over there?” Del nudged his elbow against Taren’s arm.

Because Taren and her mother had the same short stature, her father liked calling them his firecrackers. As a kid, Taren didn’t mind. As an adult, she had to start speaking up for herself.

She looked at her father first. “I’m moving out of your house.” Then she turned to Connie. “The moving truck will be by tomorrow.” Then she volleyed her gaze from Del to Connie, waiting for a reaction.

“No, you can’t move.” Connie picked up her utensils again and started cutting up her already macerated meal.

“I am moving. I’ve put in a deposit for the apartment. I’ve put in my change of address. I’ve even started moving things over there on my own.” Taren placed her hand on her mother’s arm and felt her flinch at the connection. “I need to go out on my own and do things. I’ll be fine.”

Connie remained quiet.

Taren turned to Del. “Dad?”

He stared at her for a moment. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

No one listened to her. Her parents acted like Taren hadn’t said anything, or that the news she dropped didn’t mean anything. She had imagined what it would be like for someone to make all the decisions for her. In her mind, it would be sexier than this.

She recalled one of her favorite TV shows,
Love My Way
. A BDSM dominant looking for a submissive on a reality TV show. The Dom, Eagan Morton, seemed so masterful yet sexy. He told each of the contestants what to do, what he wanted. In that scenario, the feeling of being told what to do seemed different than what she’d had with her parents. Maybe because the contestants had wanted that life. They’d had a choice.