To Love and Submit (4 page)

Ten minutes later, Mandy and Rachel sat back and studied the new complete profile. The photo they’d used had been taken about two months earlier at a party. The picture flattered her slim, petite figure, and her long, blonde hair looked sleek and sexy.

“I think that’s about it,” said Mandy, reaching out to pour herself another glass of wine only to find the bottle empty. “Bloody hell, Rach, you finished the wine. Anyway, let me read your bio out to you and if you want to change anything just stop me. Okay?”

Rachel nodded drunkenly as Mandy started reading, “‘I’m a twenty-eight-year-old girl from London who is looking to explore her sexuality with a fun but firm Dom. I’m new to BDSM and hope to meet a sensitive, patient man, in his late twenties or thirties, who will show me the ropes—pun intended’!”

“Are you happy with that?” Mandy raised her eyebrows at Rachel, who was looking worried.

“Shit, Mandy. What if someone actually responds?” whispered Rachel, feeling a twinge of apprehension deep in her stomach.

“Well, that is the general idea.” Mandy rolled her eyes and clicked the save button.

Suddenly, the idea that her fantasies may become real seemed terrifying. After all, fantasies were safe and she could control them, but a real life Dom? A shiver ran through her and she reluctantly acknowledged a feeling of delicious anticipation rather than doubt.

“There, it’s done. Now we wait and see if anyone sends you a message. Let’s see if there’s anyone interesting in the recommended search.” Mandy winked at Rachel and they both shifted their chairs a little closer to the computer.

They started scrolling down the long list of potential Doms. The first one they looked at sounded like a right wimp—

I’m a 25-year-old straight man. Want to meet a nice girl who will let me tie her up.

His picture didn’t exactly do him any favours either, he looked around sixteen and about as dominant as a kitten.

The next one was the complete opposite of the first—

Strict Dom wants compliant sub to train. Must be willing to submit 24/7.

The man in the photo looked like an axe-murderer. Rachel glanced at Mandy, who gave her a nervous smile. This wasn’t exactly what she had been expecting.

The next one was even scarier—

I’ll tie you up and whip you till you beg me to fuck your tight little arse
.

The guy in the photo actually looked fairly normal, which made him seem even more terrifying.

“Bloody hell, Mandy, what have we done? I should never have agreed to this.” Rachel felt panic setting in as she imagined being stalked by wicked sadists and big, bad Doms.

“Chill out, Rach. There’s no way people will be able to see your contact details. My advice is to sleep on it tonight and tomorrow we’ll check if there are any messages in your mailbox. If you don’t like the look of any of them just click the decline button and wait until you hear from someone you do like the look of.” Rachel fiddled nervously with her hair and watched as Mandy pushed her chair away from the computer and fixed her gaze on her.

“Okay, babe, you’re pissed and have to face the boss from hell in the morning so you’d better get something to eat before you go to bed.”

“Thanks for reminding me,” groaned Rachel, suddenly feeling deflated again. The last thing she wanted was to go to bed where her imagination would undoubtedly run riot. “I’ve got a much better idea. Let’s go to the pub and get pissed out of our heads.”

Mandy stood up and stretched. “Tell you what, we’ll go to the pub for one quick drink and then stop off at the takeaway on the way back. Come on, slap a bit of lippy on, girl.”

“God, you’re so domineering,” said Rachel with a grin, feeling her spirits begin to lift again. “It’s a shame we’re not gay, because you’d make a great Domme.”

* * * *

“Rachel! Come here, please,” Adam Stone’s voice bellowed as Rachel took her jacket off. She pulled a face and stuck her tongue out at his door. She had hoped he wouldn’t be in yet or would have at least given her a few minutes to get settled before he began his attack.

“Yes, Mr Stone,” she called back and headed into his office with all the enthusiasm she could muster.

“I’d like a word. Would you bring me a coffee first, though.” It wasn’t a request, it was an order. “And bring one for yourself.”

Oh God, this sounded serious. “Yes, Sir,” she answered. She couldn’t meet his eyes so she lowered hers and looked at the floor, but not before she noticed a very faint smile on his lips.

Once safely in the privacy of the small kitchen, she buried her head in her hands, wishing she could go home. She’d rather have been anywhere else at that point as, apart from having to face Mr Stone again, she was also nursing a very sore head. The one drink at the pub last night had, of course, turned into several and it had been eleven o’clock before they had finally stumbled out of the pub, bypassing the takeaway and instead stopping off at the late night off-licence on their way home.

With a bottle of wine in her bag and all her woes forgotten, Rachel had loudly sung a song by Nine Inch Nails she’d heard a few times—something about meeting your master—and Mandy had had to threaten her with a spanking if she didn’t quiet down. This had reduced them both to tears of laughter as they’d crawled up the stairs to the flat on their hands and knees. They’d tried very hard to be quiet as they’d made their way up, but the more they’d tried, the more they’d giggled until they’d both collapsed on the landing, holding their stomachs from laughing so much.

Once safely inside the flat, Rachel had opened the wine, a screw top this time, and poured them a huge glass each while Mandy had logged on to the computer to see if Rachel had any messages on the BDSM site yet.

“Oh my God,” Mandy had squealed, “you’ve got eight messages already. Come and see.”

And they had sat up until two o’clock finishing the wine and laughing at the messages, none of which warranted a response. A couple of them sounded okay, but only okay, and the rest were downright scary. One of them was demanding a slave and another wanted a Domme to dominate him, but also wanted a female sub that he in turn could dominate.

“You could do that,” Rachel had giggled to Mandy, who had then practically fallen out of her chair, laughing.

“Yeah, so you’d better watch out, sub.”

“Seriously, hon,” Rachel had said, trying her best not to slur her words too much. “You’d make a great Domme, you’re so bossy.”

“Thank you very much,” Mandy had laughed. “Tell you what, if you don’t end up meeting someone, I could always spank you with the hairbrush if it makes you happy.”

“Ooh, I nearly forgot to tell you, Mr Stone threatened to spank me today.” Rachel had felt a surge of heat shoot through her body at the memory of his words. Just imagining Adam Stone spanking her had been enough to make her horny—until she’d remembered that she hated him.

“You’re joking?” Mandy had stared at her friend in shock.

“Nope. He said that in different circumstances he’d put me over his knee.” Rachel had then held up her glass and tried to focus her eyes on Mandy, who seemed to have developed a double. “I don’t think I was meant to have heard it, but I did.”

Their conversation had then descended into complete smut and they had both eventually fallen asleep in each other’s arms on the sofa, only waking up when they’d heard Mandy’s alarm clock ringing loudly from her bedroom.

Dragging herself out of her drunken sleep, Rachel had been seriously tempted to call in sick. In fact, if she’d been working for Joe she would have, but even through the foggy haze in her head she’d realised that Adam Stone would never let her get away with that. Just the thought of him made her feel sick and it had taken all her strength, along with some painkillers, to make herself presentable enough to meet his standards.

How the hell am I going to get through today?
She switched on the coffee machine and tried to ignore the pounding in her head. He’d said he wanted a word. Shit, what did that mean? Was he about to fire her? Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing—at least she would be able to go home and get some sleep, with the huge advantage that she’d never have to see him again.

Five minutes later, she stopped outside his office and took a deep breath to steady herself. She looked down at the two steaming cups of coffee she was holding and willed her hands to stop shaking. She felt like a kitten about to come face to face with an angry Rottweiler, and it was with a heavy heart that she fixed a false smile on her face and prepared to face the wrath of Adam Stone.

Chapter Four

Mr Stone was on the phone when she entered his office and he nodded briefly at the chair opposite his desk, instructing her to sit. She remembered the coasters this time, although she was sorely tempted to put the mugs straight onto the desk just to wind him up. If he was going to fire her anyway, she might as well fight back in some way.

But the tiny dose of defiance didn’t last long and she obediently sat down and waited for him to finish his call so he could begin his onslaught. As she waited, eyes downcast, she felt strangely calmed by the sound of his voice—so deep, velvety and sexy. He pronounced his words as if each one had a special meaning, placing nuances and expression in all the right places. In fact, his voice and articulation reminded her a bit of the Shakespearean actor and
Star Trek
captain Patrick Stewart.

She lifted her eyes and stole a quick glance at him while he was facing the window to the side of the desk. What was it about him that turned her into such a quivering wreck? Well, apart from his good looks of course. She studied his perfect face, the slight kink in his nose only adding to the beautiful masculinity of his face. She had come across handsome men before, plenty of them, but none with that extra ‘something’ that Adam Stone had. What was it? Charm? Yes, definitely, although she had yet to be on the receiving end of it. Nevertheless, he undoubtedly possessed it in abundance. But it was something more than that.

Suddenly, Mr Stone turned back to face her and she quickly diverted her eyes back down to the carpet. Why the hell couldn’t she look him in the eye? Yes, she was scared to death of him, but she wasn’t normally such a wimp. She’d squared up to much scarier men than him before, her strong will easily winning her arguments, so why did he have this effect on her?

Mr Stone exchanged final pleasantries on the phone before hanging up and returning his attention to her. “Sorry about that.”

His smooth voice lured her momentarily into a false sense of security—he certainly didn’t sound like he was going to tear strips off her and fire her. “Rachel, look at me,” he commanded, as she continued to stare down at the nondescript carpet.

Bastard
, she thought, and slowly raised her eyes to meet his. She involuntarily shifted slightly in her chair as his eyes met hers. A stray lock of hair had come loose from the chignon she had struggled with that morning, and she nervously tucked it behind her ear. She took a deep breath and braced herself for the verbal assault.

“I owe you an apology.” His voice was calm and smooth with no trace of anger.

What? She was so unprepared for this that she just stared stupidly at him for a moment or two before his words started sinking in. Shit, what should she say? Was he trying to trap her by being nice before he suddenly went in for the kill?

Mr Stone sat back in his chair and smiled, a natural, friendly smile that sent little butterflies fluttering deep down in her stomach. “I was completely out of order yesterday. I’d had a bad start to the day, then I got the call from Lucy and on top of that my ex-wife was giving me grief.”

Someone actually dared to give him grief? God, she was brave. Rachel finally smiled back at him, relaxing as she accepted that he wasn’t still mad at her. “That’s all right,” she said, as evenly as she could, considering that her insides felt like they had been put through a spin cycle.

“No, it’s not all right. You were helping me out, without notice, and I took my bad mood out on you. That was unfair and unprofessional of me.” His eyes, which had seemed so cold and hard yesterday, were warm and sincere. The spin cycle picked up speed.

“You must have been pretty mad when you found out about Lucy,” muttered Rachel, trying to find an excuse on his behalf.

Adam Stone frowned. “Is that what you think of me? Christ, I must have been a complete shit yesterday.” Shaking his head, he fixed his eyes on her, demanding that she held his gaze. “Of course I wasn’t mad, I was worried. Lucy and Pete are very special to me so when I heard that Lucy had pre-eclampsia I was extremely concerned.”

“Oh.” Rachel looked away, now ashamed for thinking so badly of him.

“That’s why I wasn’t here when you turned up yesterday,” he continued. “I’d popped down to the florists in Covent Garden to order her some flowers—I wanted to choose them myself.”

Rachel tried to imagine Adam Stone in a florist shop personally picking flowers to make up a beautiful bouquet. The image couldn’t have been further from the one she’d had just five minutes ago. She smiled at him and felt a warm flush run through her body.

“Do you accept my apology?”

“Yes, of course.” How could she not accept the apology of a man who personally chose the flowers for his PA’s bouquet? She fiddled nervously with her hands in her lap, unsure of what to say or do next.

“Good, thank you.” He smiled again, one that easily reached his eyes and made his dimples reappear. “Now, do you have any plans at lunchtime?”

Oh, was he going to make her work through lunch? Her head was still sore and she badly needed some food to help soak up the remainder of last night’s alcohol. With an effort not to look too upset, she shook her head. “No, Sir.”

“Good. Mirage is already booked so we’ll leave just before twelve thirty.” Then his tone changed again, returning to the stern and detached voice she was getting used to. “Now, about your shorthand, or, rather, lack of it. Do you audio type?”

Rachel nodded, mutely. Lunch? Had she got that right? Was he taking her to lunch?

“Good, I had rather hoped you could, so I dictated a tape this morning.” Without another word he handed her a small tape and inclined his head towards the door, curtly dismissing her.