The Denim Dom (Siren Publishing Sensations) (17 page)

His eyes met hers through the glass door as he reached out to push it open. Unable to help it, her gaze dropped to her feet for a moment before she looked up again. He wore a friendly smile and extended his hand.

She’d reached out to hug him, and they did the awkward hug-handshake dance before settling on a hug. “Nice to see you again,” he said. “Glad we didn’t scare you away last weekend.”

“Everyone’s been really nice. That’s why I want to make sure I write the best story possible. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong impression about what you all do. I want to make sure I’m accurate.”

He held out his arm, indicating for her to go first, and they approached the hostess stand. He held up two fingers and they were led to a booth.

Once settled, with their drink orders placed, he leaned back in his seat and smiled at her. “So what did you want to talk about tonight?”

* * * *

Tony admitted his curiosity had run overtime after her phone call the night before. Over the phone Shayla sounded more timid than ever, a woman wanting to ask something and apparently afraid to spit it out. He’d found her discomfort amusing and endearing.

Not to mention the sadist in him got a little twist out of it in the bargain.

He knew she’d spent the day before with Leah, Loren, Tilly, and Clarisse. He wouldn’t be nosy and ask what they talked about, but he couldn’t help wondering if her call to him was a result of it.

She laced her hands together in front of her on the table, her eyes trained on them. When she spoke, her voice sounded so soft he had to sit forward to hear her.

“You said you’ve trained submissives before,” she said.

He slowly nodded and folded his arms on the table in front of him. “Yes?”

“And you teach, too? I mean, I know you teach the whip class, but you teach other stuff.”

“Yes?”

“How much do you charge?”

He thought maybe he’d misheard her. “I don’t understand.”

She still wouldn’t look at him. “How much do you charge to train a submissive?”

“I don’t.”

That forced her gaze up to his before it dropped to her hands again. “But I thought you said—”

“When I train a submissive, it’s because myself and the person have reached a mutual agreement to pursue that. That’s personal, not a business transaction. I’ve never charged to train a submissive. I don’t hire myself out to do that. Now, I’ve taught private sessions on technique with rope bondage, whips, that sort of thing. But the relationship between a Dominant and their submissive is a personal one. At least, it is for me. I know there are people out there who claim to make a business out of training submissives and slaves, but I’m not one of them. What I do in my personal life is for pleasure. The only reason I even accept money for my classes is to cover expenses and time, not to make a profit.”

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed. Her hands disappeared from the table into her lap. “Okay. I’m sorry. I misunderstood you.”

He took a chance and dropped his voice. “Shayla, look at me.”

Her eyes fluttered everywhere and anywhere but where he wanted them until she finally met his gaze. He waited until her eyes were steadily focused on him and nowhere else.

“What exactly is it you’re looking for?” he asked in the same soft, even tone.

He didn’t miss the way she swallowed, the way her throat worked, the pulse point clearly visible under her flesh.

I’d love to pull her head back and nibble all the way down her neck.

He forced himself not to budge as his erection painfully sprang to life in his pants.

“I want to go through training as a submissive. To see what it’s like from that side firsthand. I…I think that’s the only way I’m going to really understand all of this for my articles.”

He let her soft words hang in the air for a moment as he tried to process what she’d said. He couldn’t move, couldn’t sit back. The urge to adjust his pants would be too great, and he suspected what she’d just said had taken every ounce of her courage. He didn’t want to make a wrong move and scare her off.

“You want me to train you?”

Her eyes flickered away, but he waited her out. Her hazel gaze eventually returned to his again. “Yes. If you’re interested,” she quickly added. “I mean, I know you’re busy and if you don’t have the time, or don’t want to, it’s okay. I understand and it won’t hurt my feelings.”

Part of him wanted to reach out and pull her into his arms. A thick layer of insecurity lay behind her walls, of that he was now certain. She’d been rejected somewhere down the line and had taken a massive hit to her self-esteem as a result. He didn’t know exactly how or why, but he’d seen it plenty of times before in others and recognized it all too well.

Of course, he knew he could be wrong, but he doubted it.

“Is this really just for your story? No other reason?”

She nodded.

“Is any of it for you personally?”

He thought at first she wasn’t going to answer him. Then she softly said, “I don’t know. Maybe.”

He allowed himself to slowly lean back in his seat, his palms flat on his thighs under the table. He studied her, noticing the way her gaze dove away from him, down and to the side again, to the dessert menu propped up at the end of the table by the window.

I’ll have to work on that first.
She would have to learn to accept direct eye contact with him, to hold and maintain it no matter how uncomfortable it might feel to her.

He realized what he’d just thought and knew regardless of the outcome, he’d probably already made up his mind the other night when they were talking at the club.

He’d just never thought he’d have a chance to make some of those fantasies come true.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll do it.”

Shocked because of her certainty he’d say no, she looked up at him. His even, steady gaze never wavered from hers. Heat filled her cheeks again as her dreams about him came rushing back to mind.

In her dreams, he’d born that same intense look.

“Really?”

Instead of answering he looked away from her as the waitress returned with their drink order. “Ready to order?” she asked. “Or do you need a couple of minutes?”

He picked up his menu, which had lain unread in front of him. “Just a couple more minutes, please.”

When they were alone again, he tipped his head toward her menu. “Let’s get our orders put in and then pick up this conversation in a few minutes.”

She nodded. As she reached for her menu, she realized her hands trembled. She opted to lay it open, flat on the table in front of her, and stare down at it. She didn’t want him to see how badly his acceptance had rattled her.

Part of her truly had expected him to say no. Well, that had been the fantasy best-case scenario. Worst-case, she’d anticipated her reaction if he’d laughed in her face at the suggestion. Not that she’d honestly expected that from him, but she wanted to be prepared regardless.

After the waitress returned for their orders and left with their menus, Tony leaned forward again. “What are your expectations?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Are you looking for just an afternoon to experience stuff, or did you mean you wanted me to train you the way I normally would a submissive, or what?”

“How would you normally train a submissive?”

He smiled. “Normally, she would be my girlfriend and the process would involve lots of sex and orgasms. I would, of course, remove that option from the table for you under the circumstances. Unless you didn’t want it removed.”

Her pussy fluttered at the thought. She reached out for her water glass to take a sip and had to use two hands because they trembled so badly. “Oh,” she managed.

She couldn’t read his expression. “And I want to confirm there isn’t a boyfriend or significant other in your life who might take umbrage with this process. If there is, I need to have a sit-down with him before we do anything.”

“No. I’m single.”

“Okay.”

“Would I need to sign a contract or something?”

His lips pressed tightly together as if he was trying not to laugh. “No. If someone’s not adult enough to hold their end of a deal, a contract certainly won’t keep them in line. Besides, they’re not legally binding.”

“I thought some people use them.”

“Some people do. I don’t. I never have. If someone’s word isn’t good, I’d rather not be in a relationship with them if it takes a piece of paper to keep them honest.”

“Okay.” She buried her hands back in her lap. “Where do we start?”

When he smiled, she realized how handsome he was. “Right here.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Unlike the idiots who think submissives and Dominants magically bond together on the basis of labels and common kink, I am a firm believer that if you can’t be friends with someone, then you surely can’t be in a D/s relationship with them. There’s two-way trust that must be established. I won’t top someone I don’t have some sort of an emotional connection with, and I don’t want someone submitting to me who doesn’t trust me.”

“Oh.” She nodded and took a deep breath. “Okay.”

“You look relieved.”

“I…I just didn’t expect it to be so…” She didn’t know what word her brain grasped for to insert into that statement.

“Boring?”

She could tell from the way the corner of his mouth quirked up that he wasn’t upset. “Normal,” she said.

He reached out for his iced tea. “I think the word you’re looking for is ‘vanilla.’”

* * * *

It’d taken every ounce of his will not to burst out laughing. She was so cute and so naïve. She had no preconceived, desperate desires to act out. No “do me” demands to make upon him.

If nothing else, it’ll be a way to have some fun.

And drive away his loneliness for a while.

While they ate, he purposely kept the conversation light and away from anything remotely resembling BDSM. He wanted to know about her tastes in reading, music, TV, movies. What she enjoyed about her job. Her past.

When he tried to guide her toward discussions about previous relationships, she nimbly danced around it.

Opting not to force the issue, but adding it to a mental checklist of topics he wanted to pursue later in private, he let the subject drop. “So about tomorrow’s whip class.”

“Yes?”

“It starts at two. I’d like you there by one.”

“Why so early?”

“Because I have things I want to go over with you in private. I have a key to the club, don’t worry.”

“Okay.”

He stared at her until it became an uncomfortable silence. She finally caught on and asked, “What?”

He raised an eyebrow at her. She’d have to learn sooner or later if she was serious about going through this process with him.

Either that, or she’d quickly come to enjoy spankings.

She frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“‘Okay’ isn’t the answer I wanted.”

She looked confused. Somehow, he kept from rolling his eyes at her. “The correct answer would be, ‘Yes, Sir.’”

“Oh. Sorry.”

He cleared his throat.

“Yes, Sir,” she said.

He smiled. “Good girl. And tomorrow, I want you to wear the black sundress you wore Sunday night when we met at the restaurant. No bra, and no panties unless you have a thong to wear under it.”

He barely held his amusement in check as her cheeks flushed with color. “No panties?”

“Like I said, you can wear a thong. But no, no panties. Unless you’re on your period.”

Her mouth opened and shut like she was trying to decide whether or not to argue. If she was going to balk at his orders, this would be the first one she’d challenge.

“Yes, Sir,” she finally whispered.

He broadly smiled at her, delighted to a nearly giddy level that she agreed to his demands. “Good girl.”

* * * *

Part of her bristled. Then she realized she’d asked for this.
Duh
.

She didn’t have a thong.
I’ll have to go shopping for one tomorrow morning.

“I can’t and won’t make you submit to me,” he continued. “That’s not something that holds any interest for me. Either you want to, or you don’t. If you want to then I expect you to respond not with
yeah
, or
okay
, or anything else like that. Yes, Sir. No, Sir.”

“Anything you say, Sir?”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “There is a term for submissives who like to mouth back. They’re called SAMs.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Smart-assed masochist.”

“Does this mean I’m expected to keep my mouth shut and do as I’m told?”

“No, not at all. It simply means there are, within the context of our D/s dynamic, proper ways to express yourself and your opinion. I’m not saying this is the way everyone does it, but it’s the way I do it. I don’t mind disagreement. It’s how that disagreement is presented. I expect a submissive of mine to behave in a respectful way toward me at all times regardless of whether they agree with me or not.”