Chapter Four
Chapter Four
“You should squeeze the tomato gently to make sure it’s firm, but not so firm that it has no give.”
Niles looked up from the display of tomatoes and turned to face the woman standing next to him. “Brandy?”
“Vine-ripened are best,” she added. “They’re much better if they’re not picked when they’re green.”
Here, in a small market in the mountain town of Granby, he barely recognized her. He hadn’t expected to run into someone he knew, and this woman bore little resemblance to the woman he’d scened with a few weeks before.
Her beautiful face was bare, without even a hint of mascara, and she’d pulled back her thick blonde hair into a ponytail.
Instead of the skimpy dresses that he was accustomed to, she’d selected a black sweater and a short skirt with black tights, along with comfortable-looking suede boots wrapped in some sort of fur cuff. A magenta scarf completed her outfit.
Simply, she arrested his attention, and he couldn’t look away.
The scent of her, fresh, like a crisp autumn morning, walloped him.
Like they had every day since they’d scened together, images of her naked body tied up and waiting for him flashed through his mind, leaving him aroused and not at all convinced he wouldn’t slam her up against a wall and fuck her right here in public.
“And make sure there are no external blemishes.”
“Ah,” he said. “Thanks.” He put down the tomato he’d been holding and attempted to harness his runaway thoughts.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
That night at the Den—after he’d taken her to the dungeon—Damien and Gregorio had pulled him aside and given him hell.
Brandy was an excellent sub and even better employee.
More than that, Gregorio thought of her as a younger sister.
Though Niles had assured them that he had no intentions toward any woman, including her, Gregorio hadn’t backed off.
Niles had no doubt the man could—and would—fuck him up if he harmed Brandy.
And now, in this moment, with her standing a scant few inches from him, he sure as hell had ideas, and they weren’t honorable.
If he were smart, he’d excuse himself like she had after the scene and be about his business.
But he didn’t budge.
Instead, he thanked her for her advice and made small talk, like polite people did when they were trying to pretend they were better than Neanderthals. “Is it that obvious I don’t know what I’m doing?” And he might starve if he didn’t eat out or have a housekeeper who shopped for him once a week.
“I’m sure it would have been fine.”
“Really?”
“No. That was a lie.” She smiled. “It would have been tasteless, dull. Boring. And you don’t like those things.”
Fuck.
Was she flirting with him? “You’re right.”
“I didn’t know you lived up here,” she observed, tipping her head to one side.
“I don’t. I’m staying at a friend’s cabin. Most of the time he rents it out, but it’s between seasons right now, no real hunting or skiing, and the summer vacation season is over.”
“But it’s a great time to see the aspens turn.”
“And listen to the elk bugle.” He should end the conversation right here. But hunger burned in his gut.
He’d avoided the Den since that night because he didn’t trust himself to resist his impulses.
Never in his life had he reacted to anyone this way.
“Your place is nearby?” he guessed.
“It is. I’ve been up here about two years. I left Denver after The Great Disaster.”
“Taking it that’s not a movie?”
“Definitely not.” She blinked, as if trying to clear her mind. “It was a period in my life that I’d rather forget.”
Goddamn, how he understood that.
“I was looking for a fresh start, and I’ve been lucky to find work doing some marketing for one of the smaller ski resorts and a couple of the towns around here—web design, social media, that sort of thing.”
Odd that he’d never considered that she had a job outside of being a submissive at the Den. Then again, over the last few years, he’d thought of precious little beyond what he’d lost.
“Are you any good at barbecuing?” she asked.
The question caught him off-guard. “You’re asking a man who can’t select a tomato?”
“The two can’t be compared. Men will cook if flames and danger are involved. It’s genetic. A badge of honor, even.”
He laughed. “That sounds sexist.”
“Is it true?”
“I’ve lit a grill a time or two,” he conceded. No way could he be considered a gourmet, though.
“With matches or a flamethrower?”
“Both. Why do you ask?”
She brushed her hair back from her face. “I’m having a small get-together this afternoon at my place. Nothing fancy. Just a few friends. But the neighbor who cooks the hamburgers had to go out of town. I need a replacement.”
Why the hell were they still talking? “Are you asking me to be your chef?”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far. Cook is fine.”
He socialized only with a select group of people he knew well and who didn’t pry into his personal life or try to set him up with their available female friends. His friends understood his need to be alone, and they honored it. This woman, though, had intruded on his privacy at the Den and now she was trying to drag him to a gathering where he knew no one. Boldly, she was treading where no one else dared go.
“I bet you’re wondering what’s in it for you,” she went on.
No.In fact, he was trying to think of an excuse that wouldn’t crush her and make him feel like the world-class asshole that he was.
“Dinner,” she told him, even though he hadn’t asked. “It’s a potluck, and you know how that is. No one brings dishes they’re bad at. So there will be lots of salads, several kinds of dessert, including cheesecake, and all the beer you can drink.” She cocked her head to one side and smiled at him. “And you’ll have my undying gratitude.”
Why the fuck was he considering it?
“I’m desperate,” she confessed, going on as if she’d sensed an opening. “Since I’m the hostess, I have a million things to do, and I know I’ll forget about the burgers and burn them or get impatient and take them off too soon.” She looked at him with wide eyes, as if it didn’t occur to her he’d refuse.
In her world, no doubt friends helped one another. Niles had never been the neighborly type. “Brandy, I don’t—”
“They’re a good group of people. I promise.”
If they were close to Brandy, there was little doubt. “I’m sure they are.”
“I’ll owe you a favor. Please say yes.”
Good God.There was no way to refuse this woman anything. At the Den, he’d thought of her as a beautiful, compliant submissive.
He’d underestimated her.
She had the relentless determination of a bulldozer. But she’d approached him with such guileless trust that he wanted to help, despite every sound reason not to. “I can spare a couple of hours this afternoon.”
“Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.” She did a little two-step, and an older couple smiled at her enthusiasm. “Thank you, thank you. I’ll even pick out your tomatoes. In fact, all your produce. How’s that for gratitude?”
Fifteen minutes later, his basket was full, he’d been educated about the reasons to select heirloom vegetables, learned how apples were graded, exchanged telephone numbers, and she’d provided him with directions to her home.
“See you around three.”
She wasn’t asking, she was telling.
Then, with a soft smile, she raised on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Sir.”
With a little wave, she gripped the handle of her basket, and she strolled off.
What in the hell had just happened?
Niles had come to town for a few staples and a bottle of Scotch, just a few things to get him through the weekend, and now a wisp of a woman who was supposed to be a submissive had maneuvered him into doing something he wouldn’t do for any other person on the planet?
And damn if her small expression of thanks hadn’t made him want to wrap up the moon and give it to her.
He didn’t have to wonder how long it had been since he’d shared a small, intimate moment like that with a woman. To the minute, he knew.
Until now, he’d believed that his personal ache had been buried under layers of regret. But Brandy, with her genuine delight and unrestrained appreciation, awakened a part of him that he’d thought had been banished forever.
With a sigh, he headed for the junk food aisle and justified his action by telling himself potato chips were made from vegetables.
Niles hoped to run into her in the checkout lanes. If he did, he’d load her groceries into her vehicle. He didn’t see her again, and he wondered why it bothered him.
After he arrived back at the cabin, he started to put away his food. He held the tomatoes and considered them. Refrigerator or countertop? Did it matter, really? Maybe it did. No doubt Brandy could write a dissertation on it.
Despite himself, he smiled.
Deciding to put them in the refrigerator so they’d last longer, he changed into a long-sleeved flannel shirt before heading outside to chop some wood to stockpile for the upcoming few days.
Up here, nights were already damn chilly, and surely snow wouldn’t be far behind. Doing physical labor was part of the reason he was allowed to use the cabin at no charge.
He skipped the chainsaw in favor of a good old-fashioned axe.
Hefting the substantial weight, he repeatedly brought it down in smooth, powerful moves.
There were dozens of logs to split, and that suited him fine.
The physical exertion might banish the sudden and stark image of Brandy kneeling naked in front of him, her legs spread as she waited for his attentions.
An hour later, muscles straining, sweat beaded on his brow, he sank the tool into a log and stood upright, stretching his sore muscles. He opened the top buttons on his shirt before striding back inside.
Even though he’d drained his energy, he hadn’t exorcised the images of Brandy. And when he saw the rug near the fireplace, he pictured her there, looking up at him, anticipation in her gaze.
Annoyed with himself, he headed for the shower.
Unbidden, his cock throbbed, and as he stood beneath the warm water, he stroked himself.
Ejaculating didn’t vanquish the sexual energy he felt when he thought of her. In fact, it seemed to make it worse.
Niles set the spray to a hot, punishing pulse that hammered his shoulders.
As he stood there, the truth about his own reactions hit him.
Brandy’s curvy body and long blonde hair appealed to him. When he factored in her direct communication and the way she’d kissed his cheek, as if it were a natural impulse, he was done for.
No way should he attend the function at her house.
He didn’t want to meet her friends, answer curious questions, or learn anything more about her. If he went to the party, people would assume they had a relationship.
Even me?
No matter what, he needed to keep distance between them.
If his desire became too strong, maybe they could hook up at the Den under the watchful eyes of Damien and Gregorio.
Then at the end of the evening, Niles could walk away.
Wasn’t that every man’s fantasy? Dominating a willing, beautiful submissive, having a hot fuck, and no awkward moments afterward?
Niles turned off the faucet.
Maybe for some. Maybe even most.
But another, deeper and more undeniable truth seared him.
Not me.
Despite his self-preservation instincts, he wanted to know her better, glimpse her in her natural element, surrounded by fun and laughter.
All the things he didn’t dare want.
Rather than drying off, he wrapped a towel around his waist and strode to the closet to grab a tight-fitting pair of boxers from a chest of drawers.
He selected a pair of newish jeans and a long-sleeved, metal-gray T-shirt. Since he was going to be relegated to the outside, he reached for a pair of hiking boots. Definitely not his usual attire for a date.
This isn’t a fucking date.
He was in charge of the grill. Nothing more.
An hour later, in his sports utility vehicle, he had to remind himself of that fact.
Then he wondered if he’d always been so good at lying to himself.
Only one car was parked in her driveway.
He’d planned to arrive early, and it appeared his timing was perfect.
When he stepped out of the vehicle, he was greeted by a cacophony of barks, one ferocious and the other one a higher pitch, but lower volume.
Should be an interesting afternoon.
After grabbing the bottle of wine he’d brought as a gift, he headed for the house. It was a cottage-type with two doors, one at the front and another on the side.
A silver metal tub filled with ice and beverages stood beneath the carport, so he surmised that was party headquarters.
A moment later, she flung open the door and greeted him with a broad smile. “Master Niles! Welcome to my humble abode.” She looked at the two dogs that were doing a small dance behind her and commanded, “Stay back.”
The animals obeyed but continued to vocalize their excitement and wag their tails.
He’d wondered how she would address him, especially as she would be having other people over and they had no agreement outside the Den.
Her words pleased him—a ridiculous amount.
Everything about this woman turned him on. She still wore the short skirt that showed the curve of her hips. While he liked the sight of a woman’s bare legs, he had to admit the boots and tights were doing it for him.
Getting her naked later would be even more rewarding.
Distracting himself, Niles extended the bottle of wine.
Their fingers brushed as she accepted, making him think of the way she’d touched his wrist before they’d parted at the Den.
“Thank you. You didn’t need to bring anything. You’re the chef, not a guest,” she teased.
“I was hoping this would work as a bribe,” he said. “Maybe someone else can cook while I eat those desserts you mentioned.”
“No chance, Master Niles. This afternoon, you’re all mine to command.”
He arched an eyebrow.
She kept a straight face for all of three seconds before grinning. “I tried.”
They both knew he was a Dom and wouldn’t relinquish that role. Still, her easy banter made it easy to relax, and he was glad he’d come.
“Shall I uncork it for you, Sir?”
“I’ll do the honors, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course, Sir. Thank you.”
She stepped aside so he could enter the kitchen. Since the tiling on the floor was worn, he presumed her friends and family all used this same door, and that added to the welcoming feel.
Now that he was inside with the door closed, the dogs bounded over. One was a massive brindle something-or-other that was the size of a pony, and she had a pink bandana around her neck. The other was an overweight, black, snarling dachshund.
“I would have warned you about my menagerie,” she said, “but I didn’t want to scare you off.” She waved her hand, about waist level and both canines quieted. “That’s MW,” she said, pointing at the smaller dog.
“MW?”
“Meanie Wienie.”
He laughed.
“I don’t want to give him a complex, so I just call him MW.” Brandy placed the bottle of wine on the counter and retrieved a waiter’s corkscrew from a drawer that contained several hundred gadgets he’d never seen before.
“Since it’s not summer, it’s not a big concern, but he has an, uhm…”
Niles waited.
“Foot fetish, of sorts. He bites big toes. Not ankles. Not feet. Just toes, big ones.”
Out of his element, he blinked. “Rescue dog?” he asked.
“How did you guess?” she replied with a wry twist to her mouth as she placed the corkscrew next to the bottle. “They’re one of my weaknesses.”
That she collected unwanted animals didn’t surprise him.
Had her heart melted in a similar fashion at the Den when she’d caught sight of him sitting outside by himself? “Do you do it with humans, too?”
“No.” When she spoke again, emotion caught in her voice. “Not anymore.”
“Meaning you used to.” Why am I prying? It’s none of my business.
“I’ve spent a lot of time trying to break myself of that habit. Animals are far easier to deal with than people. They’re more honest. Anyway, the Great Dane is named Dana.” She shrugged.
“Original.”
“A little girl chose it.”
“I didn’t know there were brindled Great Danes.”
“I didn’t either until the rescue service asked me to take her in.”
“They seem like nice dogs,” he said.
Both animals, as if on cue, sat. Dana offered her dinner plate-size paw to be shaken.
“I try to teach them some manners. Success is measured in varying degrees.”
Niles shook Dana’s paw first, then he crouched to pet MW. The animal promptly rolled to his back and offered his belly to be rubbed. “He likes attention.”
“He’d get more of it if he didn’t bite toes.”
“He seems fine to me.” After playing with the dogs, Niles stood to rinse his hands. Bowls and cutlery had to be moved aside, and she made no apology for her mess.
The kitchen cabinets were painted white and were complemented by dark-blue laminate counters.
Knickknacks adorned the shelf beneath the window. An old-fashioned stove, large refrigerator, and a seen-better-days dishwasher made the place feel homey, lived in.
It was quite a contrast to his enormous space that was filled with stark marble, steel, strategic decorator lighting, and satin nickel fixtures.
For the first time, he found his life lacking.
Brandy moved in next to him and offered him a towel to dry his hands.
With the newcomer sniffed and welcomed, the dogs wandered over to their beds and curled up.
“Now that they’re settled, may I offer you a beer? Bottled water? A glass of the wine you brought?”
“Wine.”
“For me, too, if you’re okay with sharing?”
“I was hoping you’d join me.” He put down the hand towel then uncorked the bottle.
After she removed two glasses from a cupboard, he accepted them from her.
“We’ll let it breathe for a minute,” he said. “And in the meantime, you can greet me properly.”
“I…” Her eyes widened as she sucked in a breath and looked up at him. “Honestly, Sir, I’ve wanted to kiss you since you walked through the door.”
There was that raw honesty he appreciated so much.
Right there, in the middle of the kitchen floor, she sank to her knees.
Fuck. She was perfect. “How long do we have until the rest of your company arrives?”
“At least half an hour, Sir.”
He offered his hand and pulled her up before removing the band that secured her hair, allowing the long waterfall of blonde to fall past her shoulders in a gentle wave. “I meant it when I said I want to restrain you that way sometime.”
“Since you mentioned that, Sir, I’ve fantasized about it.”
“Then I’ll have to make sure it becomes a reality.”
“Thank you.”
He captured the hem of her sweater and pulled it up over her head.
“Pale blue?” he asked approvingly when he saw her bra.
“I figured you would expect me to go for black or red. So I wanted to surprise you.”
“You succeeded.”
That night at the Den, he’d wanted to be sure that she hadn’t offered to scene because of a misplaced sense of obligation.
But this morning, she could have pretended not to notice him in the produce department. Instead, she’d approached him and made up an excuse that compelled him to attend her party.
Over the last few years, he’d had models and actresses drop suggestive hints about hooking up, but the fact Brandy had only asked him to attend as a friend had snagged his attention and reeled him in.
“Since you didn’t give me any instructions, I went with lady’s choice.”
“Well done,” he assured her. “The color works.” The gentle pastel complemented her porcelain skin. He’d never have known he liked anything other than bold or bright.
“You might want to put the sweater on the counter or the table, Sir,” she suggested. “Otherwise, MW will think it’s his new blanket.”
“I’ve never had to consider pets when I took off a woman’s clothes.”
“Is that a problem?” She drew her eyebrows together.
“Relax, beautiful Brandy.” He ran his thumb across her forehead. “I have no issue with your four-legged friends.”
“Good. Because you haven’t met them all yet.”
“You… What? There’s more?”
She gave a quick grin. “More of everything for you, Sir.”
“Then let’s get on with it.” He reached around her to unfasten her bra clasp.
She shrugged from the straps, spilling her luscious breasts into his palms.
Immediately, his cock hardened.
Maybe he should have masturbated a second time before leaving his cabin.
“Thank you,” she murmured as he lightly squeezed.
“They need to be marked.”
“God, yes, they do, Sir.”
Her passionate intensity matched his.
Even though she was distracted, she somehow managed to deposit the brassiere right on top of her sweater.
He fondled her nipples until they beaded, then he pinched them hard.
“You’re making me wet, Sir.”
“Good.” He hitched up her skirt and placed one of his legs between hers. He dragged her closer and held her tight. “Hump my thigh like the needy, gorgeous woman you are.”
Her eyes darkened to the color of a still, deep mountain lake.
Without a word, she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck before maneuvering her pelvis so that her clit would be stimulated, even through her layers of clothing.
Niles cradled the back of her head then dug his fingers into her hair, supporting her as she began a slow, rhythmic rocking motion. He’d effectively imprisoned her, and if he had his way, he’d never let her go.
“Oh, oh, Sir.”
“I want your orgasm, Brandy. Give it to me.”
She moved faster and faster, her frantic exhalations warming his chest.
Having her in his arms seemed inevitable, and despite the difference in their sizes, the fit was perfect. “That’s it,” he told her. Then he moved one hand lower to slap her sweet ass.
She yelled his name.
It wasn’t from the pain, he knew, but from the force of her climax.
Moments later, her body went limp, and he brought her against his chest while she caught her breath.
“That… Thank you, Sir.” She looked up at him. “I had no idea you’d let me do that.”
“Me either.”
“Honestly?”
“I’ve spent plenty of time thinking about doing you.” Even though he shouldn’t have, as Damien and Gregorio both informed him. “I can’t get enough.”
“Same,” she admitted.
“So what are we going to do about it?”
“I don’t know about you, Sir, but I certainly have ideas.”
“Yeah?” he countered. “I have a few of my own.”
“I’m interested, Sir.”
“In that case, my beautiful Brandy…”