Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve
With one of her palms on his chest, she pushed back a little so she could see his eyes. “I beg your pardon, Sir?”
“I need a gorgeous date. Dinner, dancing. At the Moline in downtown Denver.” Until the words came out of his mouth, he’d had no real intention of attending the event.
His Aunt Mame chaired the event every year.
In the past, he and Eleanor had been regulars, but since her death, he’d declined every invitation.
This year, his aunt had informed him she’d reached the end of her patience. If he didn’t show up of his own free will, she would come to his house and drag him into her limo by his ear.
Niles was too smart to underestimate the steamroller that was Mame. “You’d be doing me a huge favor.” He smoothed Brandy’s hair back from her face so he could see her expression.
“The Moline?” she repeated.
The historic property housed one of Denver’s boutique hotels. It was fancy, upscale and was located on the fun and interesting Sixteenth Street Mall. Aunt Mame loved the fact that, on any given night, it was possible to see a wide range of humanity, from up-and-coming buskers to convention goers, sports stars, executives, and politicians. Since there were some excellent restaurants along the street, almost anyone who spent time in downtown Denver could be seen passing by.
“I’m confused, Sir. Do you want me to attend as your submissive?”
“Good God, no.” Mame and Denver’s wealthiest would be scandalized. “As my companion.”
“I’m not sure what to say.”
“Yes is the perfect answer.”
She pursed her lips. “Maybe I don’t know how to behave in public.”
“Try again.”
“Maybe you don’t want me to get to know your friends. How will I answer questions about how we know each other, where we met, what I do for a living?”
With the mutinous set of her jaw and the way she worried a strand of hair, he read her anxiety. Coming from someone so self-assured, the reaction shocked him. “There will be no questions.”
“It’s not that easy, Sir.”
“It is,” he countered.
“Maybe for someone who lives life like you do,” she countered.
He went still.
His beautiful Brandy was walking a tightrope between expressing her fears and pissing him off. Keeping his flash of frustration under control, he tightly asked, “What the hell does that mean?”
“Look, Sir, I didn’t mean to offend you. We don’t move in the same social circles. I love to scene with you, and I appreciate your coming to my barbecue, but a fundraiser at the Moline isn’t for me.”
“Why not? Great food and expensive champagne, along with an excellent dancing companion.”
Even that didn’t elicit a smile from her.
“It will be filled with rich people, along with boring and insipid conversation.”
“Precisely.” He grinned. “Which is why you need to go with me…to ensure I don’t die of boredom.”
Her laugh scattered some of the growing tension. “I’m sorry, but I don’t do pretentious anymore, Sir. Not that I ever did it well.” She slid from his lap and crossed to her own chair, putting some distance between them. “My type doesn’t belong there.”
“Your type?” he echoed, stunned. “What the actual hell does that mean?”
“I’m not from your world.” She raked her hair back, and he read hurt and wariness in her eyes.
Something had happened to put it there and he wanted to know what the hell it was.
“We both know it.”
“No.” Total bullshit. She belonged anywhere she damn well pleased.
Refusing to accept what she said, he went on, “We sure as hell do not know that.”
“My background…” Looking into the distance, she trailed off.
“What about it?” he demanded. “Who the fuck hurt you?” I’ll kill them. “Made you believe that shit?”
Like she had earlier, she looped some strands of hair around a finger. “What I do for a living…”
Brandy scooted as far back in the seat as she could and drew her knees to her chest, as if to protect herself.
“You know that I moved up here about two years ago.” She met his gaze. Then, in a rush, she forced out, “After Reyes Northrup and I broke up.”
Niles froze.
Northrup?
An old, established, and respected Denver name.
Reyes’ father had made money—lots of it—in oil a long time ago. His trophy wife and kids lived high off the profits.
“His mother never pretended to like me.”
I’m not surprised. “Shawndra is a social climber and a bitch.”
Brandy’s mouth opened for a moment. “You know her?”
“Yeah. You can’t take her personally.”
“I tried not to.” Brandy gave him a ghost of a smile. “But you can’t deny that she cares about her kids.”
He wondered how many times she’d repeated those words to herself. “So, she’s a saint.”
“No.” Quickly, she shook her head. “But she has always done what she thought was best for her family. I can’t fault her for that. Reyes is a sweet guy with a big heart.”
“Who can’t stand up to his mommy and has a hell of a drug problem.”
“That’s a bit harsh.”
“It’s the truth,” he countered.
He had a lot of respect for people who earned their way in life, but none at all for guys who lived off their trust funds and put the profits up their noses.
“I thought I could save him. Tried to, time and again. But when everything is magnified under the spotlight of the tabloid press, it makes it that much harder. That last night…”
“The Great Disaster?”
“You remembered.”
He had. And he appreciated that she was willing to confide in him. “I remember everything about you.”
Brandy stood and began to pace.
Immediately MW jumped up to nip at her toes.
“Sit,” he told the pest.
The dog plopped down, though he continued to move his head, tracking her feet.
Patience wasn’t Niles’s normal forte, but for Brandy, he’d try.
“I arrived home from work around midnight and found Reyes unconscious in the shower.” She blinked to clear her eyes of tears. “I called an ambulance, and I held his hand all the way to the hospital. His mother met us in the emergency room. She made it clear that she blamed me and my lifestyle for his problems.”
“Lifestyle?”
“She didn’t know I was a submissive or that Reyes liked to tie up women.”
“So…?”
“In addition to having a job at an advertising firm and helping out at the Den, I was working at a sports bar to help pay for college.”
“And the alcohol was a bad influence?”
“Waiting tables would have been scandalous enough, but it’s the type of place where the women wear white button-down shirts and ridiculously short kilts.”
“Do you still have it?”
With a small laugh, she shook her head. “Pervert.”
“A man who can’t get enough of you,” he corrected.
Thankfully, the pain he’d witnessed on her face had been wiped away.
“We met there, when he and a bunch of his buddies came in for a bachelor party. He was flirting with me. At the end of the night, his friends decided to go to Central City to play some craps, but he said he was too drunk to go with them. So I took him home—to my place.” Lost in her memories, she sighed. “It wasn’t until much later that I realized he’d been doing something stronger than shots. Sorry. Am I boring you?”
“Not at all.”
“We can change the subject and talk about something other than—”
“Go on,” he told her in the no-nonsense tone that he reserved for business negotiations.
“The next day, we went to pick up his car. He was apologetic, wanted to thank me and make it up to me, so he took me to dinner. Despite the differences in our backgrounds, I convinced myself that we could make it work, that my caring would help him get better, see how much brighter life could be. Before long, we fell into a pattern. He’d get arrested or messed up, and I’d rescue him. He’d be remorseful and promise never to do it again.”
“But he always did,” Niles surmised.
She took a seat again, this time perching on the edge. “One Sunday, he took me to a family dinner, and his mom asked how we met.”
“So you told her.” Which also explained her reluctance to accompany him to the fundraiser.
“You should have been there.” After picking up her cup again, she sipped from it. “It was like a scene from a movie. His younger sister knew of the place. His mother put down her fork and pushed her plate away.”
“I can only imagine.”
“His dad raised his eyebrows and said he’d been there once or twice, and that infuriated Shawndra.”
“How dare he be human?”
“Yeah. Something like that.” For a moment, she studied the contents of her cup before looking at him again. “She told me to my face that I wasn’t good enough for her son. And she asked him why he insisted on dating an impoverished whore.”
“Fuck.”
In a much lighter tone, she added, “To make the story shorter, we never found out what was for dessert.” She gave a rueful laugh. “Because she kicked me out. At least Reyes left with me.”
“That was the night of the overdose?”
“No. We continued to see each other after that, but we avoided his family, something else she blamed me for—taking away her son.”
“She isn’t good at accepting reality,” Niles observed.
“Anyway, it was about a year later when we saw each other in the emergency room. She called security, told them I was a prostitute, and had me escorted out.”
“Jesus.”
“She was next of kin.” Brandy shrugged. “There was nothing I could do. I telephoned for updates, but she’d forbidden the nurses to answer my questions. When he called me the next day, he was, as always, sorry for what had happened, but said he was tired of fighting with his mother and was sure I understood that the class distance and my perversions made a relationship between us impossible.”
Even though she had the distance of years, anguish still laced her tone.
“Last I heard through mutual friends, he’s headed to rehab on the West Coast before he marries a hotel heiress.”
“I’m so fucking sorry.”
She put down her cup. “Live and learn. Right? I did. I know my place, and I stay in my lane.”
Her acceptance of the horror she went through pissed him off. How could she think she was less than anyone? Especially arrogant assholes such as the Northrups. “Not everyone is like Shawndra.”
“Of course you’re right. You’re nothing like them. Neither is Master Damien.”
As he looked at beautiful, sweet Brandy, Damien and Gregorio’s warnings took on a deeper meaning.
The pair weren’t just worried about her because of his past with Eleanor. They knew everything she’d been through with the spoiled Northrup heir. “You deserve someone better than Reyes.”
She didn’t respond.
“He was a fucking coward. Can’t stand up to his own mother. Doesn’t work. Never behaves like an adult. Seriously, Brandy, what kind of life would that have been?”
“Don’t think I haven’t tried to convince myself of that.”
She’d loved him and had been committed to their relationship.
Did the man have any idea how lucky he’d been to find that kind of woman?
Niles had the opposite problem.
He’d thought he’d married a wonderful woman.
And he couldn’t have been more wrong.
“If you’ll go with me to the event, I promise to stay by your side.”
“That’s not a factor for me. I can take care of myself, Sir. Have been for a long time.”
“And doing a great job of it. I know I’m being selfish by asking you to go with me, but with you there, I might enjoy the function. And…” He decided to use every tactic in his arsenal. “That day, at the grocery store, you told me you’d owe me a favor if I manned the barbecue.”
Holding up a protesting hand, she scowled. “Hold on, Master Niles. You can’t—”
“Time to pay up,” he countered. “Unless you want to earn a reputation as someone who reneges on her word?”
“That’s unfair, Sir.”
“I play to win. You already know that.” He smiled in what he hoped was a charming way. “And I want you to go with me.”
“Do any rules apply to you, Sir?”
“No.”
She exhaled.
“At least think about it.”
“Sir…”
“Please?”
Brandy closed her eyes. “You’re relentless.”
“When I want something, I don’t give up until I win.”
“I haven’t agreed to go with you.”
“You will. I’ll even buy you breakfast as a way to sweeten the deal.”
“What?”
“John told me his pecan waffles have been rated among the top in the state.”
“The restaurant is probably not what you’re expecting. It’s more of a diner than anything. I can make us some eggs here.”
“Are you calling me a snob again, Brandy? You might want to watch your words.”
She worried her lower lip.
“You admitted I’m not like them, so stop thinking I’m too damn good for you and your friends. You’re walking a thin line.”
“I—” She exhaled.
“It’s breakfast,” he said, reining in his frustration. “Nothing more.”
But he was lying to both of them.
Going out to breakfast at her friends’ place represented something more than a casual hook-up or scene.
Then again, once he’d agreed to come to her gathering, they’d crossed a line.
What was happening between them was dangerous, to him.
To her.
If he were smart, he’d relent, withdraw the invite to his aunt’s silent auction, and accept Brandy’s offer to cook eggs for him.
After that, they could fuck hard, then he’d be free to return to his cabin and his normal, empty life.
But when it came to her, he was no longer behaving like a rational man. Instead, he was an obsessed asshole.
And damned if he could change his actions.
Damned if he wanted to change them.
“Do you have fishnet stockings?” he asked, desperate to ease the gnawing tension in his gut, and whatever was simmering inside her.
“I do. But if I wear them, my legs will get cold.”
“Did I ask if you’d be comfortable?”
“Oh, God.” She shifted then lowered her eyes.
This, D/s, they both understood.
Familiar ground.Where their relationship was less complicated and a shitpile less messy.
Even though he was out of line by using this tone on her, he told himself that she had a safe word and a slow word.
But still…
His damn conscience nagged at him.
Rightfully so.
“No, Sir,” she finally replied, as if she’d gone through a similar thought process to his own.
After all, she liked being a submissive, and the role was familiar and easy.
“You didn’t ask if I’d be comfortable wearing them.”
“You’ve got five minutes to get ready to go.” When she didn’t immediately move, he said, “That’s it. Get your clothes off and lie across my lap.”
“What?”
He leveled his gaze on her. “Do I need to repeat myself?”
“Here?” Slowly she stood. “Now?”
“Both.”
Slowly, she stripped off her top and dropped it on the chair behind her.
Breath constricted in his throat.
This woman.
What the hell is wrong with me?
The more he had her, the more he wanted.
This kind of attraction had never happened to him before.
If he didn’t touch her, taste her, possess her he’d combust.
The cool air immediately puckered her nipples.
He was mesmerized. “I think we should have a bonfire where we burn all your bras. I love seeing your bare breasts and hard nipples beneath your clothing.”
“If you say so, Sir.”
A sensual undertone made her voice husky, and it laced straight through him.
She removed the yoga pants with the finesse of an exotic dancer.
“Torture,” he said.
It took an agonizing amount of time for her to finish undressing.
“Let me look at you, beautiful Brandy.”
Goose bumps danced across her skin.
Despite that, she widened her stance and placed her hands behind her neck then arched her back to thrust out her chest.
“You’re sensational.” He made a slow circle with his forefinger, and she complied with the unspoken order, turning her back toward him.
Perfectly reading his mind, she grabbed her ankles. Her rear bore no traces of their night together. “Come to me.”
She rose then pivoted before sauntering toward him in a purposeful and provocative way.
Instead of casting her gaze down, she met his eyes.
“Do you have any idea how much power you hold over me?” As he asked the question, he realized even he had no idea.
After draping herself across his lap, she adjusted her position, tilting up her ass higher. Are you trying to drive me crazy?
Regardless of her intent, he was definitely losing his mind.
“Enough,” he snapped, the word sounding like a growl.
Dana made an odd sound and tipped her head. MW dashed over to see what was going on. Even Whisper slinked onto the patio from beneath a bush.
“Go away,” she told the animals.
None of them obeyed her.
“Now.” He snapped his fingers and pointed.
They all moved back.
“You’re going to have to share your tricks with me,” she said.
He rubbed her butt cheeks until she made sounds of pleasure.
“Oh, Sir.”
Mindful of the chill in the air, he brought his hand down across her ass half a dozen times in quick succession.
She remained in place, and her sounds became soft whimpers.
Then she made a small adjustment so that she could rub against his thigh.
“Getting turned on?”
“Yes.” The word was forced out past a gasp. “Always, Sir. You know how to thrill me.”
He liked having her here, in his arms, their bodies intimately connected through trust. After another few spanks to remind them both of the natural order of things, he helped her to sit up.
She curled into him, her glorious hair spilling across his chest. He held her tight and stroked her arms and legs to warm her up.
“The way you are with me… It makes me willing to do almost anything for you in return.” She angled her head to look back at him. “It’s as if no one has ever known me this well.”
She smiled in a way so enchanting he’d happily wrap up the universe for her.
Then she batted her eyelashes at him. “Especially if you were to give me an orgasm, Sir.”
“No chance. I want you aroused through breakfast.”
“But… I promise I will be. No matter what.”
Which meant that she was agreeing to go with him.
He brushed hair back from her face so he could study her.
“You know how to touch me, Sir.”
“If I had my choice, Brandy, I’d never stop.” Still holding her, he stood and walked toward the house.
“Put me down, Sir! You can’t carry me all the way inside.”
“Actually, I believe I can.”
The dogs leaped up and barked as they trailed behind. The cat twitched its ragged ear and flicked his tail in disinterest at the ridiculous commotion.
Brandy giggled as she reached for the doorknob and pushed open the back door. “In the movies, it’s not quite this complicated.”
Once the dogs were inside, he kicked the door closed and continued through the house to the bedroom where he deposited her on the edge of the mattress.
“About those fishnet stockings…”