Submission (3 page)

“Leather or lace?” The Countess’s
tone was more firm and her fingertips brushed the riding crop that she’d
dropped on the table.

Preferences. This was about
Joanna’s preferences in matters of sexual fantasy. “Leather,” she said, simply
choosing one option. She made to pull down her bra, but the Countess stilled
her with a fingertip. That fingertip slid over the nipple, playful now, and
Joanna held her breath.

“Velvet or satin?”

“Velvet.”

“Rope or ribbon?”

Joanna tried to hide her shock.
The Countess was watching her closely. “Ribbon.”

“Shackle or duct tape?”

Joanna felt her mouth work in
silence. “I’m not sure.”

The Countess clearly disapproved
of this non-answer. Joanna had to try harder. “Blindfold or gag?”

“Blindfold.”

“Chocolate or whipped cream?”

Again, Joanna was flummoxed, but
she went for one choice. “Chocolate.”

“Man or woman?” The Countess
smiled when she asked this, her gaze bright upon Joanna.

“Man.”

The Countess made a mock pout. She
finished her wine, then swept to her feet. That navy cloak swirled around her
with theatrical flair.

Joanna felt her senses return to
her. How could this woman go out in the world in such a costume and not be
noticed? What was in her perfume that made Joanna act in such an uninhibited
way?

Was she passing the test? It was
impossible to read the Countess’s thoughts.

“I must excuse myself for a
moment,” the Countess said and Joanna knew that she needed the restroom. “Will
you be fine here alone for a moment?”

“Of course.”

The Countess picked up the riding
crop and exited the room in a maelstrom of swirling velvet.

The room seemed larger and emptier
once devoid of her presence.

And safer. Joanna shook her head.
She pulled down her bra, then stood up and straightened her clothes. She didn’t
like how wet her underwear was, and wasn’t going to recall how fantasizing
about Mike had made the interview easier.

Mike. He was a classic fantasy
date - the tousle-haired, easygoing, captain of the football team type. Loyal
to his friends, handsome, easy-going, possessed of a good sense of humor and a
single dimple.

If she’d met him anywhere other
than work, she might have asked him out for a coffee.

But she’d only met him because
they worked together. Joanna would never break company policy, and besides, she
was sure Mike dated women who were more relaxed than her. Women who weren’t
ambitious or hungry for success. Joanna couldn’t have been more different than
that.

She pulled a mirror from her purse
and checked her face, halfway expecting to find red lipstick smeared all over
her face and breasts. She was surprised to discover that the Countess used some
kind that didn’t smear. She was more surprised to see how brightly her eyes
sparkled and how her cheeks were flushed pink. Her lips looked more full, and
her hair was loose, as if she’d been thoroughly kissed.

She had been.

She combed her hair back to order,
re-establishing her trim appearance. She couldn’t do anything about her lips,
though. Joanna straightened her shoulders, tucking her shirt in again. If this
had been the entrance exam, she had to think she had passed. That was when she
realized something.

The Countess had taken her riding
crop.

She wasn’t coming back.

Which meant Joanna wouldn’t be
able to follow her or see her car.

And she probably
hadn’t
passed the exam.

No! Joanna erupted from the room
and flew across the restaurant so fast that she nearly collided with a waiter
carrying a fully loaded tray. The older man called after her, but she pushed
open the door and stepped into the street. It was still pouring rain, the
pavement slick with water. Several blocks away, she could just see the red
taillights of a car disappearing into the night.

She swore, just as the older man
reached her side. He held up her raincoat, the coatroom boy standing slightly
behind him with her umbrella. Joanna shrugged into the coat with his
assistance, deciding what she’d ask him first.

But he was ready for her. As soon
as she turned to face him, he retreated into the restaurant. “Good evening,
Joanna,” he said and firmly shut the door between them.

She heard the deadbolt turn in the
lock and knew he wouldn’t answer the door.

She knocked anyway.

There was no response. She might
as well have been pounding on the door of an empty house.

Joanna stood there for only a
moment, the chill of the night sliding into her bones. She swore, then turned
and marched back toward the subway station, defiance filling her veins.

This wasn’t over. She was going to
find a way into the Plume, no matter what it cost.

***

“She’s lying,” Athena said as she
strolled into the back offices of the Plume. “Just as I thought.” She threw off
her cloak with disgust, and peeled off her domino mask, casting it across his
desk. “I like to suck men off,” she said in a high voice, obviously mimicking
someone. Then she exhaled and shook her head. “What a lot of garbage. How
stupid does she think I am?”

Rex would have to have been dead
to not realize his partner was in a mood. She was always passionate when she
felt badly treated. A dozen slaves would be screwed senseless tonight before
Athena was satisfied.

He ignored her, just as he always
did when she was like this.

It pissed her off, just as it
always did.

Athena propped her hands on her
hips and glared at him. “Did you hear me?”

“Of course, I did.” Rex put out
his hand and she surrendered the pendant, slapping it into his palm. She threw
herself into a chair, watching sulkily as he removed the recording device
hidden in the pendant’s setting and plugged it into the USB port of his computer.
The interview with the reporter Joanna began to replay and he froze in shock.

Not this Joanna.

He knew
this
Joanna.

He’d fantasized about this Joanna
since high school.

The last thing Rex wanted was to
let Athena guess the truth, so he hid his reaction even as he fixated on the
video. His Joanna. Here at the Plume.

“Like I said, she’s lying. She’s
so uptight that her secret fantasy must be getting bran cereal on sale.” Athena
glanced around the office, petulant, her booted foot swinging as if she’d like
to kick something. “Isn’t there any wine? I hate wasting my time.”

“We take turns with the
journalists,” Rex reminded her. “That’s the deal.”

Athena exhaled. “Well, you get the
next
two
.”

Rex touched his headset to talk to
the bartender on the Plume’s closed communication system. He heard the volume
of noise in the bar, the music and the laughter and the clinking of glasses,
and was glad it was a busy night. Tony replied promptly and crisply. “Tony,
will you have Sonja bring Athena a glass of champagne? She’s been working hard
tonight and needs some solace.” Tony agreed and disconnected.

“Sonja?” Athena gaze sparked with
curiosity. “Who’s Sonja?”

“New slave. You’ll like her, even
though she only speaks Swedish.”

Athena smiled. “Not a gorgeous
blonde Valkyrie, just for me?”

Rex winked. “Just for you. Do you
want her gift-wrapped?”

“Not tonight.” There was a hungry
gleam in Athena’s eyes now, and she leaned forward to brace her elbows on her
knees. Rex could see all the way down her cleavage and knew it wasn’t an
accident. She knew he loved lush breasts like hers.

“See what I mean?” she said,
jerking her head toward the computer screen. “Liar, liar.”

“Were her pants on fire?”

Athena snorted. “Hardly. It was
glacial down there.”

Rex took the excuse to watch the
video closely. Joanna was as beautiful as he recalled, and as much in control
as he remembered. He’d never seen her surprised or doing something impulsive.
Even her clothing was so crisply tailored as to be austere. She seemed bent on
hiding her femininity and did it so well that he was shocked when her breasts
were revealed.

They were magnificent, larger and
creamier and rounder than he could ever have expected. He touched up the volume
at her unwitting moan, feeling himself get hard. Joanna with secret fantasies.
He realized belatedly that Athena was watching him intently. “Looks like you
really got to her. Good job.”

“So, she’s not dead.” Athena’s
eyes glittered with unhappiness. She hadn’t wanted him to notice that moan.
“She’s still a liar and a journalist.”

“Which is worse?”

“Does it matter? We don’t need
either around here.”

Rex couldn’t help himself. He
played the recording again. Joanna’s voice had deepened since high school,
turned a little bit husky in an enticing way. He found her innocence, the way
that Athena had shocked her – and done it so easily – exciting. He
thought about awakening her, proving to her that she was a sexual being, giving
her a real taste of pleasure and desire.

On the recording, she confessed
that she preferred leather. He smiled. Bullshit.

She liked to suck men off. Also
bullshit, but her words planted an image in his mind, Joanna’s full lips locked
around him, her eyes closed, that little moan…

The weight of Athena’s attention
– and disapproval - bore down on him. “You like the skinny ones with big
breasts,” she said, her tone unkind. “Always have. She’s just your type. Dark
hair, dark eyes, swinging tits.”

Rex heard the jealousy in Athena’s
tone. He knew he was right when she got up and came to his side, running her
hands over his shoulders.

“You can’t convert them, Rex.
She’s not one of us. She just wants to ruin everything.” She bent and kissed
his ear, whispering. “Don’t let her.”

Rex didn’t respond. Athena was
right about his tastes.

She was also right about journalists.

Too bad he could so easily imagine
teaching Joanna a lesson or two.

He watched the video again. When
she confessed to wanting to be enslaved to a relentless master, he became rock
hard. Rex was just the man for the job. He’d crack her wide, break her open,
teach her what and who she really was.

And love every minute of it.

He swallowed, as those full lips
shaped the words, noticing when her voice became more husky, when she caught
her breath. He wanted to replay the sound of that soft moan a couple of
thousand times, the one she hadn’t realized she’d made, the one that had been
torn free of her.

It might be the most erotic sound
he’d ever heard.

No, he wanted to be the one to
make her moan like that.

“You like her.” Athena’s tone was
waspish as she rapped her fingertips on him.

Rex tried to hide his interest.
“I see something, maybe a secret she doesn’t even know she has.”

Athena scoffed. “You see a snatch
so tight that it’ll keep you coming all night long.”

The suggestion did nothing for
Rex’s ability to pretend to be disinterested.

Athena – of course –
noticed. She leaned down, pillowing her breasts against his shoulder, her
perfume embracing him. “What you’re not seeing is the story she’ll write after
she finds out your secrets.”

“No one finds out my secrets.” Rex
smiled at the very idea.

“Well, you’d better take just as
good care of the Plume’s secrets.”

“Don’t I always?” Their gazes
locked and held, rare antagonism snapping between them. They seldom disagreed,
and when they did, the tension made the air crackle. They’d defeated it with
sex before, so Rex guessed what Athena would suggest before she did.

“We could share Sonja tonight,”
she said, smiling slightly.

On another night, he might have
been tempted. On this night, he wanted to think about Joanna – how he
could have her without risking the club’s privacy.

“I have a better idea,” Rex said,
knowing exactly how to change his partner’s mood.

“There are no better ideas.”

“You don’t even know about my
surprise yet.”

She watched him, wary yet interested.
She flicked a finger toward the screen, returning to their disagreement. “I say
we shut the bitch out.”

Rex shook his head. “She won’t
take no for an answer that easily. Look how much she likes to be in control.”
He leaned back, artfully avoiding Athena’s hands, and braced his own hands
behind his head as he watched the recording again. “No. We’ll teach her a
lesson. That’s the only thing that will get rid of her.”

“But…”

“No.” Rex glared at Athena,
pulling rank.

She looked away, tightened her lips
and swallowed. Then she turned a smile on him and sauntered closer, clearly
intent on making up. She threw one leg over him, sitting astride him and
planting her hands on either side of his shoulders. He felt her softness
against his erection, even through the layers of their clothes. She smiled and
moved her hips, grinding herself against him.

“What about putting that to good
use?” she murmured. “We could kiss and make up.”

Rex caught Athena’s nape in his
hand and gave her a deep kiss. He wrapped his other hand under her butt and
stood up, carrying her with him. She would have wrapped her legs around his
waist, but he set her down on her feet and headed for the door.

Athena pouted. “When are we going
to have fun together, Rex?”

“Trust me. You’ll think this is
fun.” Rex opened the door, finding Sonja just arriving with a glass of
champagne. “Come with us,” he said to her, caressing her under the chin as if
she were a cat. “The more the merrier.” She looked blank, not understanding,
but he beckoned to her with a finger.

“Oh, I like the sound of that.”
Athena snagged the glass of champagne, gave Sonja a kiss and followed him down
the corridor to the club.