Chapter 36
Genevieve
“I have a new client for you,” Leo informs me, his voice carrying through my bathroom from my phone’s speaker. “I’ll send you the meeting instructions, but you’re to be at his house at seven tonight. Give him your best, and don’t be late.”
I roll my eyes, but mutter, “Yes, Leo.”
“Let this be a reminder of the power I hold over you. I trust we won’t have any further issues, Genevieve.” With that, he hangs up. A few seconds later, an email pings in my inbox.
One line into the email, I realize that the client is Grady Blandon, the current Speaker of the House. Fucking hell.
Unease swims in my gut, my stomach bottoming out the more of the email I scan. Something tells me that I shouldn’t take this client, no matter what Leo demands. But that’s not an option, not if I want to escape this hellish hamster wheel I’m on.
“Are you working tonight?” Corinne asks, coming to stand in the doorway as I apply my mascara.
“Yep, Leo just gave me a new client. Are you?”
Her exhale is audible. “I’m heading out to meet Martin. I’ll wait up for you. If we don’t finish too late tonight, we could hit up that bar we like a couple blocks away.”
Turning in her direction, I smile. “If you’re with Martin, I’m sure I’ll be the one waiting on you.”
She groans, but the corner of her mouth twitches. We’ve developed a system where we never go to bed without laying eyes on the other first. We have a plan if one of us doesn’t come home, too. It’s not a great one, but there’s still a plan.
“How are your bruises?”
After screwing on the cap of my mascara tube, I lift my t-shirt to reveal lacy black panties to show her the mottled skin over the bottom of my ribcage. Most of the dark blue has faded into yellow over the last few days, and I think I can get away with this now.
She sighs with a shake of her head. “Good luck with the newbie,” she comments. After a moment, she smiles, adding, “How’s the internet hottie?”
He’s got to be hot, right? It’d be utterly tragic if he wasn’t. I snigger, rummaging through my small bin of lipsticks. “I think things are heating up.”
“Fucking finally,” she exclaims, clapping her hands together, making me grin as I swipe on my lipstick.
Corinne is the only person I’ve told about @livingh3ll.
She’s been in the loop since we first exchanged messages, and she’s been convinced from the start that we were meant for each other.
I’ve been slower to accept that, but there’s no denying the pull I have to him and the fluttery sensation that accompanies each of his messages.
At this point, almost nothing could keep me from talking to him.
I spend the next few minutes dolling myself up and styling my long onyx hair into loose beach waves.
I always wait until the evenings, after work, when I can curl up in bed with my emotional support messages, basking in the giddy feelings that the words on the screen elicit.
However, once I’m dressed in a silk dress and strappy heels, I can’t seem to stop myself from opening my computer screen to check if @livingh3ll has answered me yet.
He hasn’t.
Sometimes it’s days before he gets back to me, occasionally it’s a week. Still, a bubbly, nervous excitement flutters through me when I think of what he might say.
I’ve yet to be so forward in our messages. While I’m struggling to bring myself to regret it, I don’t know what I’m going to do if it scares him off.
Rolling my shoulders back, I paste on my most submissive smile. As I’m raising my fist to knock on the frosted glass of the front door, I hear the latch turn just before I make contact.
The door opens to reveal a handsome man whose face is plastered all over the news these days. Grady Blandon is in his late forties with greying temples and a smooth jaw. Objectively, he’s good looking, but there’s a smarmy snake lurking beneath his tailored exterior.
“Genevieve,” he presumes, and I force my smile to widen as I nod.
He steps aside, and I catch the way his silver wedding ring glints in the warm porch lights as I step through the doorway. He wouldn’t be my only married client. I never ask questions, and I don’t judge. Glass houses and all that.
The door closes behind me with an audible snick, and I stiffen slightly.
“Follow me,” he orders, and I obey, my heels clacking over the tiled floor as he leads me through his modern, luxury home.
He’s only one of a handful of clients who’s asked to see me at their home.
Usually, they opt for a hotel, which is fine by me.
I prefer it, actually. It’s more public.
I don’t have any bartering chips at the moment, though, so negotiating with Leo on the location of tonight’s meeting wasn’t on the table.
We wind through the dimly lit home until we step into the living room. I drop my purse into a chair when I realize this is the destination. Getting the impression that he’s going to prefer feeling in charge here, I remain quiet as he pours himself a drink, tequila, judging by the smell.
When he turns back around, he remarks, “I thought we could take the evening to get acquainted and see if we might be a good fit.”
I nod, my lips curling slightly. “Whatever you prefer, sir.”
He hums. “Leo told me you were a good little submissive.”
While I’m a switch, I gravitate more toward submission, but I’m hesitant to relinquish total control. That’s not smart in this line of work, not when I don’t particularly trust my clients.
He circles me, the sipping tequila wafting from the crystal tumbler brushing my nose as he comes to a stop in front of me. “You really are beautiful, Genevieve.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Why don’t you take your clothes off for me, and we’ll go over some ground rules.”
Reaching behind me, I unzip the black dress, the liquid silk pooling at my feet as I’m left in nothing except a lacy longline bra and matching panties. Folding the dress, I place it on the chair with my purse, unfastening my heels and leaving them neatly on the floor.
“Come kneel at my feet and look me in the eye.”
Grady sits regally in a side chair, and I do as I’m commanded, without hesitating. As soon as I’m settled, he tentatively reaches out a hand to glide through my hair as I stare into his green eyes.
“I want you to understand my expectations so we’ll both get something out of this exchange.
Every time we have a meeting, I want you to come in here and kneel in front of this fireplace, naked.
Never look me in the eye without permission, only speak when I ask a direct question, and always count your punishments.
There will be an additional ten for every miscalculation.
If you’re unsure of something or have a question, I expect you to let me know immediately and politely.
I’ll also require you to address me with respect and only ever as Grady or Master, nothing else.
Do you have a safe word you’re comfortable with? ”
I blink as I take in everything he just threw at me. Based on how seriously he’s taking things, I gather that he’s done this before. My spine prickles as I realize that I may be out of my depth here.
Tentatively, I reply, “Whatever safe word you like is fine with me, Grady.”
“Leo says that you’ve done this before. Was he lying?” His dark eyebrows furrow. Shit, I don’t want him to get me in trouble with Leo. “I prefer that the safe word be something you choose, something that’s easy for you to recall.”
“I choose red then.”
“Red,” he repeats slowly, arching a well-groomed eyebrow, his lips curling as he lifts his glass to his lips. “That’ll be your safe word. Everything will stop when you use that.”
“Yes, Grady.”
He sighs. “Now, I’m going to ask you something, and I want an honest answer. I won’t be running to tell Leo about this conversation. I simply want to know the truth.”
I hold my breath as he goes on. “Are you really a submissive? Have you done this before? In a healthy Dom/sub dynamic, I mean.”
I nearly scoff. A healthy Dom/sub dynamic. I haven’t had a healthy anything since I started working for Leo two years ago. Instead of telling him that, I shake my head.
He inhales deeply and slowly, letting it out as he glances away, seeming lost in thought.
He’s quiet for several minutes before finding my eyes again and explaining, “I wasn’t really interested in training anyone new, but there’s something about you that seems like a natural submissive.
We can shift the dynamic, and I’ll teach you.
Is that something you’re interested in?”
Everything I know about being a Domme or a submissive has come from internet deep dives.
No one has taken the time to teach me shit.
I’ve been learning on the fly, anticipating the right move or by doing what felt natural and reading whatever I could find.
I don’t actually know what it’s like to be with a real Dominant, but the thought is nothing short of thrilling.
I smile, my first real smile tonight. “Yes, thank you, Grady.”
Excitement bubbles through my veins as my nipples tighten in response to the arousal pooling in my core. Gone is any of the trepidation of meeting this man tonight, replaced only with raw, feverish exhilaration.
He chuckles, the masculine sound as smooth as his tequila, shooting me straight in the clit like Cupid’s arrow. “How about you put your dress back on, and we’ll spend the rest of our time tonight getting to know one another, establishing a baseline of trust.”
Grinning, I obey, the tension coiled around my chest loosening.