Temptation & Trouble
7
G age arrived at his London penthouse at nine thirty p.m., frustrated and hungry. He had planned to review his VC team’s assessment of a small software startup, but his concentration was shot. He’d made excuses and canceled dinner with his mother to get back to London a day early. When Garrick questioned him, he denied it had anything to do with seeing the new girl in her uniform.
She looked as tempting as he’d imagined. It took all his resolve not to go up to the bar. Instead, he’d watched her for an hour from his office video feed, like a perverted voyeur.
Disgusted with himself, he left the club and went home to burn off this pent-up energy in the gym. He couldn’t get the vision of Brynne out of his head. When he pulled her in from the rain, smudges of mascara had marred her fair skin, and wet strands of auburn hair were stuck to her rosy cheeks. She’d been breathless and infuriated, hammering the doorbell, but when she saw it was him, all the fire went out of her eyes and her shoulders sank. She was on the verge of tears. Thankfully, his callous remark remedied that, and she looked like she wanted to punch him instead.
No matter how amusing it was, he did not need this distraction. He had not yet forgotten being made a fool of. Sierra had him believing she loved him and his dominant nature, and he’d been attracted to her classic, flawless style. She never had a hair out of place, and she was not prone to messes—emotional or otherwise. She was just like him. Oh so carefully contained .
There was further damning proof that he’d lost his edge. By failing to do his usual background checks, he had never uncovered the dire state of Sierra’s finances. She came from old money; however, the family coffers were dwindling fast through a series of poor investments and her father’s gambling. Gage viciously pummeled the speed bag as another realization dawned on him. Sierra didn’t mind being tied to his bed because it meant she didn’t have to participate! She could lie there, taking one for king and country. He’d been blind and stupid, seeing willing submission, in what was, in fact, indifference. That his mother loved her should have been his first clue. Sierra needed a rich husband, and it was clear she would do just about anything to get one, including selling herself to the devil.
He was done and had zero interest in doing dinners or making small talk. For now, he was content to look down the barrel of celibacy. While his mother was seeking a judicial appointment, he would remain under the radar. That meant no visits to UK clubs—even the underground ones.
His mother had almost lost her mind when he told her he was opening a fetish club. It didn’t matter that he used another name in London. She was certain they would somehow link it back to her. In three years, no one had made the connection.
Although he never fully unleashed his dominance with Sierra, it was there, locked away, waiting to be freed. His fists were aching, but his mind was clear when he finished his boxing routine.
After a hot shower, he found a serving of spaghetti Bolognese in the fridge, compliments of his housekeeper. He poured a glass of Brunello di Montalcino and opened the rooftop patio doors to let the sounds of the city drift in. His phone pinged.
Garrick: All is quiet. We’re closed for the night.
Gage: Thanks, man.
Garrick: We might have a problem. Dimitri is back in London. He has set his sights on Tink.
Gage leaned back and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Not Dimitri. He was one of the first members to invest, before they had a following. While Gage appreciated the referrals of several foreign billionaires, he didn’t like the man. Once he learned of Dimitri’s failed bid to buy the building Dominus was housed in, he became even more guarded.
Gage: Fuck. Call me.
Gage picked up the call the moment it rang. “What happened?”
“His comrades spent a few hours polishing off a bottle of Stoli. Tink was the only one in the bar when he came in.”
“Where the fuck were Bill and the security guard?”
“Bill had gone to the cellar, and the guard was called upstairs.”
“Unacceptable.”
“I agree. Anyway, he got under her skin. Mel came back and brought him the drink he ordered.”
“I’m sure that didn’t go over well.” Gage knew the man and what kind of service he demanded.
“No, it didn’t, but I smoothed things over. Brynne brought him a tea before I sent her home.”
“And she didn’t dump it in his lap?” Gage secretly hoped she did so he could mete out a punishment.
“No. She maintained her cool. I’m not sure what she said to him before she left the table, but he laughed like I’ve never heard before.”
Gage rubbed his chin. “We’ll need to keep a close eye on him. And, G, I want to know why security left the floor. His ass should be out the door.”
Garrick was apologetic. “I’ll handle it, Gage. Don’t worry. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thanks, man. Have a good night.”
By the time Gage went to bed, he knew what he had to do. If it was in her best interests, maybe he could reconcile how much of a prick he was going to be. The only consolation would be the amusement it would bring, however short-lived.
Gage arrived at the club by three o’clock on Friday afternoon. He’d worked from his penthouse most of the day, digging deeper into the financials of the company he was considering investing in. The club was still quiet when he found Garrick alone in his office.
“Hey.” He strolled in and took a seat. “Did you speak with Bill?”
“Yeah, I made it crystal clear that someone must always be on the floor. I told him Dimitri showed an avid interest in Tink and that under no circumstances was she to be left alone with him.”
“Good. And the AWOL security guy?”
“Tore a strip off him—and told him the safety of our staff was the most important element of his job, and if he failed at that ever again, I would fire him.”
Gage decided to share his plan with Garrick. “I am going to compel Tink to quit. We both know that Dimitri hates to lose—and he’s recently discovered that it was my political connections that won me the real estate deal, even though he outbid me by a million pounds. And now with this infatuation with Brynne? I don’t like it.”
Garrick paused and studied Gage. “He has always skated the line, but never crossed it. He doesn’t want to lose his membership. We’ll keep a close eye on him.”
“Listen, she’s a novice and cannot handle a Dom like him. That’s why I need to get her to quit. It will just be easier.”
He could read the doubt in his friend’s eyes. “How do you plan to do that? She strikes me as a determined little thing.”
“Aye, you are right. But for her own good and my peace of mind, she needs to go.”
Garrick shook his head. “It’s a pity. I’ve taken a liking to the little spitfire. Why don’t you just sack her?”
Gage looked at his friend, wondering if he was entertaining similar carnal thoughts. That didn’t sit well with him. “No, I intend to teach her a lesson. She came here playing at being submissive, and I don’t believe she is. I’ll put it to the test. By the time I’m done, she will give up and quit.”
Garrick’s mouth crooked. “I hope you’re right, boss.”
Brynne was at the paper early on Friday so that she could finish by four thirty and be at the club on time. Jared was in Liverpool on assignment, so they didn’t catch up. She had everything with her and was at the back entrance with plenty of time to spare. She ate a homemade ham and cheese sandwich and had a quick shower before changing into her uniform. As she put the outfit on, she mumbled under her breath, “Chauvinists still rule the world, Brynne. Get used to it.”
Melinda arrived as she was finishing her makeup. She wanted to know how everything turned out last night. Brynne shared the incident at the bar and Garrick coming to her rescue.
She put her hand reassuringly on Brynne’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t worry, Ivanov has several girlfriends—all stunning and all submissive masochists. He will bring one or more of them to the Arabian fetish night. Hopefully, he was just having a bit of fun with you.”
If that was his type of woman, did that mean he was a Dominant sadist? Brynne shuddered. “I sure as hell hope so, Mel. I’ll see you upstairs.”
The guests kept her and Melinda running until Bettie arrived around seven o’clock to provide cover. Many of the guests were in for dinner and drinks before going upstairs later. Several of them flirted and told her how lovely she looked in her uniform. It was easy to blush and laugh off the teasing.
Garrick came into the bar and summoned Brynne over. “I need you to collect Gage’s dinner from the chef and take it down to his office. He has already placed the order, and it will be up shortly.”
“Sure. On it.”
Brynne found the main kitchen and asked someone to point out the head chef. He was the man barking orders and checking the plated entrées. Waiters scurried around collecting orders.
“I’m here for Gage’s dinner,” she said when he looked up impatiently over the prep table.
“Okay, miss, it will be a few minutes. Wait over there, you’re a distraction to my cooks. They are liable to burn something if you stand there in your little tart’s outfit.”
His dismissive wave set her teeth on edge. Brynne felt conspicuous and moved out of the way. Mel told her that only men served in the main dining room. Members could bring their wives and girlfriends on the weekends for dinner. They relegated tarts to the lounge.
Her mouth watered when she saw the grilled pork chop, mashed potatoes, and green beans. As she was prepping the tray, the chef snapped at her not to forget the soup.
She whispered her thanks, grateful she didn’t leave without it. After grabbing the cutlery and a napkin, she headed downstairs. Two flights down in high heels, while balancing a tray, winded her. Why couldn’t the arrogant prick get his own dinner?
It was difficult to knock, so she kicked the door twice with the toe of her shoe.
The beast growled a reply, beckoning her to come into his lair.
She tried to twist the doorknob and almost toppled the tray. “It’s locked!”
Seconds later, the door swung open, and he glowered down at her. She scowled back, but he had turned away, pointing imperiously to his desk. His phone was to his ear while he paced to the other end of his office. Brynne didn’t see an empty space to put down the tray, so she waited to ask him to move his papers. She saw a very erotic scene on his computer screen and wondered if that was happening somewhere in the club.
She pulled her eyes away from the monitor when she heard him finishing his call.
“Thanks, Cole. That sounds great. See you then.” Gage hung up the phone and scowled at her. “What took you so long? And why didn’t you cover the dishes? My food is probably cold now.”
This is a test. Just a test. Don’t throw the soup on him. “I didn’t see any covers. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“It better not.” He crossed his arms and looked expectantly. “What are you standing there for? Put the tray down.”
“The food is getting even colder while I’m standing here waiting for you to move your papers. Unless you don’t care if I plop this right down on top of them?”
He glared at her. “How considerate of you.”
She rolled her eyes while he gathered the documents. He was baiting her, but she would not fall into his trap.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to get you a fresh entrée?” Her voice dripped with saccharine sweetness.
He looked sideways at her, and she couldn’t conceal an impish smile.
“I’m sure,” he snapped. “But you can replenish my ice. And you forgot the bottle of sparkling water I ordered.”
“Oh, certainly. I’ll get right on that. Sir .” She hurried to the door.
“Aren’t you forgetting something, Red?”
She turned around, her face blank.
He pointed to the ice bucket on the credenza.
“Oh, how silly of me!” she trilled, putting her hand to her open mouth. With an exaggerated sway in her hips, she swept up the container and sauntered out.
As soon as the door was shut, expletives spewed out of her mouth. “Pompous son of a bitch!” She stomped up the stairs to the bar kitchen and threw the watery ice in the sink. As she refilled the bucket, she eyed the box of salt on a shelf nearby. The prick deserved it—but it could get her fired, or worse.
Brynne was leaving when Mel flew through the door into the kitchen. “Where have you been, Tink? We could use your help.”
“Sorry Mel, I had to get his royal highness dinner from upstairs. I’ll be right back after I take his water and fresh ice down.”
“Seriously? It’s for Gage?”
“Yes, why?
“Because he usually eats in the dining room when he’s here. And he has a fridge in his office stocked with water.”
Brynne looked at Mel, and her hands balled into fists. “I knew he was yanking my chain. That bastard. He has his own fridge?”
“Uh-huh, in the cupboard behind his desk.” Looking worried, she added, “Wait, what are you going to do?”
Brynne’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing he doesn’t deserve.”
The office door was closed, so she had to put the bottles down to knock and open the door. As she bent to pick up the Perrier, ice spilled out and flew across the hardwood.
“Oh shite!” She scurried to the sideboard to put everything down. “Do you have a garbage bin?”
Gage rolled his chair back and handed her the small wastebasket. He watched her with a smirk on his too-handsome face.
Brynne bent down to pick up the melting cubes. She heard him inhale and realized she was giving him an eyeful. Pleased to get a reaction, she deliberately bent at the waist to collect the rest.
“You missed some under the coffee table.” His voice sounded strangled.
“Oh! Thank you, sir,” she said sweetly, and got on her hands and knees to find the rest. She heard his chair creak. “Do you have a spare napkin so I can wipe up the water? I wouldn’t want anyone to slip.”
“It’s fine,” he ground out. “Take the tray and get back to work.”
“Of course, let me get that.” She went to the side of his desk, and he handed her the tray. She glimpsed another naked woman on his screen. That one was tied spread-eagled on a four-poster bed, blindfolded. The dishes almost tipped off the tray, but she righted them just in time.
“See something you like, Red?”
Brynne stared at the picture and kept up the game. “Mmm, looks interesting. Are you looking to improve your technique?”
He cleared his throat. “I have had no complaints about my technique.”
She looked at him, feigning innocence. “Oh, you let your submissive speak?”
His brows rose, and he smiled wickedly. “Of course. Eventually, I remove her gag so she can thank me properly .”
Brynne blushed deeply and backed away. “Ha, ha, funny. Well, I’d better go, and let you get back to your important porn.”
She hurried back to the lounge, which was packed. Sparring with him was exhilarating…and dangerous. If she had any second thoughts about the salt, it was too late now!
By eleven o’clock Brynne was counting the minutes until her shift was over. Thank god Dimitri the Terrible did not make an appearance. She and Bettie were clearing empty tables when Gage walked into the lounge. He stopped to chat with a few of the remaining guests. She grabbed a tray and headed to the kitchen before he got to the bar. Regretting her rash actions, she prayed he didn’t use any of the tainted ice.
Luck was on her side. Gage was gone when she returned to say goodnight to Bettie and Bill.
He gave her a taxi chit and said, “Tink, stop by Master Gage’s office before you leave.”
Uh oh . “Okay, sure. Did he say what he wanted?”
He looked at her like she had two heads. “He doesn’t have to tell anyone what he wants.” His gaze hardened. “I would hate to think you’ve forgotten that already.”
“Um, no, of course not. Sorry Bill.”
“Get going, Tink, and have a good night.”
“Thanks, same to you.” Dread plagued Brynne as she went down the back steps. What on earth had she been thinking? She was a rookie playing with a professional.
She knocked and waited, ringing her hands. The door swung open, and he stood there, looking her over. She instantly regretted not changing out of her uniform before coming to see him. Her hair had come undone, she had no lipstick left, and food stains marred her skirt.
“Please come in, Miss Larimore. I’d like a word with you.” He stepped aside, and she went toward the chair opposite his desk. “Not there. Take a seat on the chesterfield.”
She perched on the edge of the cushion and waited for the inevitable.
Gage was leaning on the edge of his desk with his arms crossed. “Tell me, do you like working here?”
“Yes, I do. I like it very much, sir.”
“I presume you read all the employment documents thoroughly and you understand what we expect of you?”
She stammered, “Yes, I understand. I want to apologize for being impertinent before. I—”
He interrupted. “Do you know what I hate, Miss Larimore?”
Her eyes widened. “Disrespectful behavior and dis-disobedience?”
“No. Guess again.”
“Um, cold food?” She didn’t think that was it, but her mind was blank.
“No, but that is on the list. I hate insincere apologies, especially when I know the person isn’t truly sorry. It’s like a lie, and I hate lies as much as meaningless excuses.” He went over to his bar and took down a bottle of scotch and a glass. He was lifting the lid on the ice bucket when Brynne croaked. “Wait. Please.”
He turned. “Excuse me?”
She wrung her hands in her lap. “I had a moment of insanity earlier and I—I put salt in your ice bucket.”
He looked awestruck and stared at her. “Salt?”
“Yes, I truly am sorry. I was angry, it was stupid.” She looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “And I guess you’ll want to fire me.”
“That’s one thing I want to do,” he said under his breath. He poured himself a straight scotch and perched on the edge of his desk. After a healthy swig, he shook his head, his mouth a hard line.
Brynne waited for the ax to fall, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.
“Let’s try this again. I’m going to ask you some questions. Your answers, and your honesty—or lack thereof—will determine if you have a job when you leave here.”
She gazed at his rigid jaw and shivered. “Okay.”
“Were you sorry that my food was cold?”
She swallowed hard. “No, but I didn’t miss the lids on purpose. I missed them because I was in a hurry.”
He nodded. “What possessed you to put salt in my ice?”
She exhaled, knowing she was damned if she told him the truth and damned if she didn’t. “When I went to get the water, Mel asked why I wasn’t helping, and I explained I was getting you dinner and then water and ice. She said you always have a supply in your office, so I felt like you were punishing me by making me run up and down the stairs for things you already had in here.”
His eyes narrowed. “Maybe I wanted to test whether you would behave properly when exasperated.”
“And I failed the test,” she murmured.
“Indeed, you did. But you must have known that your behavior would have consequences?”
“Well, yes, but…” She faltered, unable to look at him.
“And yet you did it, anyway. So either you crave punishment, or you need more motivation to follow the rules.”
Her face flushed as he went on.
“In my club, we have these specific rules for a reason.”
She nodded.
He stood and paced back and forth, taking sips of his room temperature scotch. “Our members pay handsomely for helpful, pliant, beautiful young women to serve them. They pay for the privilege of flirting, teasing, and even spanking them when necessary.”
Seizing the moment, she blurted, “Could you maybe just spank me instead of firing me?”
He stopped mid-stride, his eyes glittering down on her. “You haven’t seemed to grasp that it is your job to follow orders eagerly, however tiring or humiliating they might be.”
She waited, not sure what he would do next.
“If you still want this job, you will have to be punished properly. Tomorrow evening, we will let our guests know that you’ve been naughty, and they’ll get the chance to paddle your behind in the Pareo playroom upstairs.”
Brynne’s eyes widened.
“You’ll wear a leather collar that has the name tag Bad Girl , and since you cannot seem to control your errant mouth, I may decide to make you wear a gag.”
Brynne sucked in a breath, shocked at his words. Her clothes felt unbearably tight, and she shifted uncomfortably.
Gage went and sat behind his desk and ran a hand roughly through his hair. He looked as out of sorts as she had ever seen him.
She wrestled with acute embarrassment. “Thank you for the second chance, sir.”
“This is your only chance, Brynne. I don’t waste my time with novices. Now get your ass out of my sight before I change my mind.”
She scrambled for the door as fast as her legs would carry her. She was almost through when he said, “By the way, have someone show you where the service lift is. I don’t expect you to run up and down the stairs with my food.”
She nodded and shut the door.
“Well, shit. It would have been nice to know about the elevator two days ago.”
Changing quickly, Brynne packed up and was out the back door in ten minutes. Once in the taxi, she checked her messages. Three were from Jared, and one from her dad, who was traveling around the Maritimes with his new wife. Every few weeks, he would send an update on their adventures. Brynne was glad he had found companionship after all those years alone.
Jared asked if she was working Saturday night because he was called in for a shift. She rubbed her forehead at the thought of him being there and possibly seeing her get punished.
Brynne: Hey J. I’ve missed you. Lots to tell you. I fucked things up today.
Jared: What happened?!
Brynne: Long story :-(
Jared: Uh-huh, did Master G take you over his knee?
Brynne: OMG. No, but I wish he had. He’s going to let others spank me tomorrow instead.
Jared: Oh shit.
Brynne: FML. I’m such an idiot.
Jared: Did you lose your temper??
Brynne: No, well yes. I hate he can rile me so easily. He is so calm, it’s maddening.
Jared: Lolz
Brynne: He lectured me like my high school principal. I wanted to punch him. BTW my uniform is redick. Seriously mortifying.
Jared: I am sure you look sexy as hell in it ;-)
Brynne: Pfft. I’m exhausted, my feet r killing me. I need a new pair of work shoes.
Jared: Why don’t we go shopping tomorrow?
Brynne: That would be great.
Jared: Cool. Call me at 10 to wake me up. Night Bree 3
Brynne: Night J xo.
Gage poured himself another scotch and sat on the warm cushion Brynne had just vacated. Christ, the way she pushed his buttons was ballsy. He hated to admit it, but it impressed him. Just a little.
She deserved to be tossed over his knee. God knows he wanted to, but she wanted it, too. No matter what, he had to maintain the upper hand. When she bent over and flashed her ass and then crawled around after the ice, his cock came alive. Thankfully, he had been sitting behind his desk. He rubbed his chin and thought about the punishment planned for tomorrow. It should teach her a humiliating lesson.
The extra embarrassment of an audience should deter further cheeky behavior. He doubted it and secretly hoped she didn’t give in and quit yet. The game was just getting interesting.