Chapter Ten
Dinner
Amy
Peering around the door frame, the nervous energy swirling in her stomach knotted. Five men were waiting for her in Kyle’s enormous dining room, all of them dressed in fine-looking suits and quaffing the bottles of red wine she’d left on the table, while she trembled in the same kinky outfit she’d worn for Kyle on numerous occasions.
At least he saved me from the initial torment of serving them drinks .
She pressed her lips into a hard line as she watched the guy with the dark blond hair nearest her drain the latest bottle, her anxiety rearing. Kyle had offered to deal with the wine so she could focus on delivering the food, but if they were running out of bottles, then she’d have no choice but to get in there and replace them.
Time to put on my big girl pants. Her fingers tightened on the wooden frame. I’ve got this.
She knew she did. She’d overcome greater adversity with Kyle in the last few days than she’d ever thought was possible, and, in that time, she’d started to learn about herself. Whatever happened, she could handle five men… even if the dread tethering inside her begged to differ.
“The first course is ready, lassie.”
She turned at the sound of Leonard’s voice, simultaneously agitated and relieved by the news. Avoiding Kyle’s guests since their arrival had seemed like a plausible plan, but hiding from them wouldn’t work for much longer. Better that she got in there and faced them. Maybe that would quell the rising waves of trepidation in her tummy.
“Thank you, Leonard.”
“He has ye back in that costume again, I see.” Leonard grinned, eyeing her breasts as she stepped forward.
“I like the outfit.” Reaching for the first of five small plates of Caprese salad, she was once again struck by how little her near-nakedness appeared to bother her around Leonard anymore. Sure, she didn’t love the guy, and she’d have preferred not to be dressed that way in front of him, but after days of dancing to Kyle’s drum, there was an ease to her movement that had been sorely lacking before. “I think I look rather good in it.” She lifted her chin, daring him to defy the point, and the stunned glint in his eyes conveyed how little he’d anticipated her pushback.
“Aye.” His hands rose in a gesture of conciliation. “Ye do.”
“Thanks.” She suppressed her wry amusement at his discomfited response.
Let him feel awkward for a change. She was fine with that.
At first, she’d been ashamed to be dressed up like a naughty maid for their employer—she thought she was too old, too ugly, and too damn unworthy of the attention—but being half-dressed a lot of the time and experiencing pleasure from Kyle seemed to have forged an unexpected benefit. She’d grown accustomed to being virtually nude, and in doing so, an odd acceptance of herself had settled over her. She wasn’t as young as she used to be, but her body was still beautiful, and despite the way she’d treated it in recent years—thanks in large part to her limited finances—she deserved to finally be at peace with that concept.
Kyle and his constant desire to see her, she realized, had helped her become more comfortable with her own body. His passion for her was enveloping, like a protective veil, and meant the judgment of others, like Leonard, was less effectual than it used to be. Taking the first two plates from him, she could only hope the defensive quality would extend beyond the chef to Kyle’s friends.
She crossed the floor to the door she’d concealed herself behind and pulled in a deep breath. This was it. She’d go in there with the same confidence she’d just exhibited to Leonard and make Kyle proud.
Fuck it, I’ll make myself proud!
She still hadn’t had the opportunity to speak to Kyle about her trial ending or what happened next, but she knew what he expected from her that evening, and there was a strange solace in that.
Pushing the door open, the click of her shoes resonated around the immense room, ending whatever conversation had been flowing at the other end of the table.
“I have your first course, gentlemen.” Apprehension shifted her into gear, forcing her chin to rise as she started the long and agonizing walk down the length of Kyle’s oversized table.
“Aww, here she is.” Pride echoed in Kyle’s voice, and as her gaze flitted to his out of instinct, she watched him motion in her direction. “The lady of the moment. Guys, may I introduce Amy.”
Multiple pairs of eyes fixed on her with glaring interest.
Fuck.
Her feet hesitated momentarily until she compelled her attention back to the plates and commanded her shoes to keep moving.
“We have Caprese salad for starters.”
She didn’t know why she’d felt the need to announce the dish. Certainly, neither she nor Kyle had talked about doing so, but in the intensity of the moment, with all of their combined concentration drilling into her, she was frantic for someone to speak.
“Thank you, Amy.” Kyle sounded as though he was repressing the urge to laugh at her performance, and her insides tightened at his mocking tone. “Please serve Roger and Stuart first.” He signaled to the men farthest away from him to indicate who he meant.
“Yes, sir.”
She cringed inwardly at the reply, attempting to placate her embarrassment at needing to refer to Kyle that way by reminding herself that all members of his staff did the same, Leonard and Stevens included. But somehow, it was different when she did it. She knew it, and so did Kyle, and she sensed the atmosphere in the room would ensure the strangers did, too. No doubt Kyle had already shared some of those ‘differences’ as excruciating anecdotes with his peers over wine. Her muscles tensed at the perturbing thought.
“Lovely.” A man sitting opposite her sneered as he picked up his wine glass. “And you pay her for this?”
“Yes.” Kyle’s gaze was steely as Amy’s eyes darted to his for reassurance. “Amy has been in charge of cleaning and dinner service this last week. It’s been wonderful.”
“I can see why,” came the reply from the guy with the glass.
Flushing, she paused at the man nearest her, leaning to his side as she placed the salad on the table in front of him.
“Me, too.” He turned, drinking in the look of her cleavage before she could straighten. “That’s the kind of help around the house I could get used to.”
She gulped at her rising humiliation, moving around the outside of the men to serve the guy with the glass. It was one thing to revel in Kyle’s attention but something else to acknowledge the way all of them seemed interested. Sadly, the bodice of her outfit left little to the imagination—that had been the point—and it left them gawping as she moved to deliver the second plate.
“She has great tits,” the man who’d ogled her breasts decided.
“Yes,” Kyle concurred, his voice nearly a purr. “And lovely legs, too.”
Everyone seated seemed to strain to see her assets, though no one left their seat. As she placed the second plate down, the silent amplification of energy in the room ballooned, intensifying her heightened anxiety.
What was Kyle playing at, drawing all of their focus to her at once? Admittedly, he hadn’t promised her the evening would be a bed of roses, but he’d offered her solace and affection, which she’d construed to mean he’d look after her.
Evidently not.
She didn’t consider openly talking up her alleged ‘best traits’ while she was dressed up and on display for his friends to be ‘protecting her’, but then, what had she expected? She knew Kyle a little by now, didn’t she? She knew the kind of man he was and what he enjoyed. Hell, she’d relished many of his perverted little games herself, and she’d found surprising succor at his feet.
But that’s not the same. She heaved in a breath. I never wanted to be flaunted like this.
She shot him a glare, hoping he’d decipher the look for himself, but to her horror, he only appeared to be celebrating her dismay, his lips widening before he spoke again.
“One of the most amazing things about Amy,” Kyle went on, “is that she simply adores attention like this.”
What?
She blinked at him, praying she’d misheard his words, but the salacious grins on the men’s faces, coupled with her growing blush, said otherwise.
“Adores how ?” The man she’d just served glanced up at her as she backed away.
“All of this.” Kyle gestured around them. “Being exposed and being of service.”
“Really?” The man beside him spoke that time, his brown eyes shining as he appraised the look of her. “And where did you say you found her again?”
Kyle laughed. “Amy and I kind of ran into one another, didn’t we?” His attention slid to hers, joining every other man in the room.
“Yes, sir.”
Christ, it was excruciating being paraded around and still having to answer him in the same demented way he demanded. Unbearable, yet undeniably stimulating.
She pulled in a breath, wanting to refute the conclusion, but the simmering at her core said otherwise. On some level, at least, Kyle was correct—she was enjoying being shown off in front of his friends.
“You lucky bastard.” The guy who sat beside Kyle shook his head. “But then, you always were, weren’t you?”
“I’ll go back for more plates, sir.” She was already shuffling toward the door before she spoke, desperate to be out of the room. It was one of the largest spaces in the otherwise colossal expanse of Brock Hall, yet it seemed as though all the oxygen was being sucked out of the air.
“Go ahead.” He waved her away with one hand, already embroiled in more laughter with the others as she edged away.
At my expense, no doubt.
She swallowed, reaching behind her for the door to offer a reprieve. Pushing it open with her backside, she retreated to the relative sanctuary of the vestibule.
“Ye took ya time!” Leonard scoffed. “What the hell happened in there?”
“Nothing!” she snapped, conscious of how red-faced she was as she turned to collect the next two plates.
“Well, hurry!” The chef motioned for her to move. “You’ll have to take three plates at a time, lass. The next course is already on its way.”
“Look, I’ve never done this before.”
She sagged, demoralized that a task as simple as serving food seemed to be getting the better of her. But then, she realized, it wasn’t the actual deed of service that troubled her, but the searching eyes, and if she wasn’t careful, roaming hands, that accompanied it. Kyle had promised his friends would only look and wouldn’t touch her, but the ambiance in there was thick with collective desire. Who knew what would happen if Kyle got carried away and forgot his oath? Or maybe he wouldn’t notice one of the others getting ‘handsy’ with her?
Pausing by the smaller table, she caught her breath at the prospect, trying to decide whether she genuinely hated the thought of being flaunted or only thought she should despise it. She didn’t know any of those men, but she couldn’t deny the idea of being desired by them was appealing. For so long, she’d been overlooked and ignored by everyone, including the opposite sex, then Kyle had changed just about everything.
“Ye’ll have to learn.” Leonard shrugged as though the answer was obvious. “And fast! Get those salads in there!”
She leapt at his order, half-troubled that she was now acting on commands from every man in the vicinity and half-concerned that Kyle would punish her for the delay. Backing into the dining room, she dashed the latest plates to their owners, doing her best to disregard the repartee at her expense before she rushed to collect the final dish.
There was no Leonard that time, the small hallway between the dining room and kitchen empty as she picked up the white crockery and made her way back to where the men dined.
“The service is a little slow.” The guy beside Kyle blew out a breath theatrically. “But I admit, she certainly is a talking point.”
“We can work on your speed, can’t we, Amy?” Kyle’s hand slid under her tiny skirt to pinch her bottom when she placed the last plate down in front of him.
“Y-yes, sir.” She gasped, thankful the probing fingers belonged to him and no one else.
“Up until now, she’s only had me to serve.” Kyle glanced down at his Caprese. “Tonight is a larger test.”
“I say she’s doing fine.” The man on the other side of Kyle smiled, his hazel eyes warm. “It wouldn’t be easy dealing with us lot.”
“True.” Kyle looked up at her. “And where’s your plate, little girl?”
Little girl.
The words reverberated around the sizeable space, although she wondered if they weren’t only echoing in her head.
“You call her little girl?” The guy she’d served first sniggered into his glass. “What is she, forty-five?”
“It’s not about age.” Kyle’s gaze burned into her skin. “Or size. It’s about power.”
She swore the room started to spin as Kyle made his case.
Power.
The word whizzed around her head.
It was about power. He had it, and she wanted to relinquish it.
“Amy is my little girl because she serves me. That’s part of the deal we struck, and thus far, we seem to both be relishing it…”
“How?”
More than one man made the demand, although Amy never identified the owners of the excited voices. Instead, she remained rooted to the spot, unable to move a muscle as Kyle’s hand tightened on her thigh.
“Any way I say.” Kyle’s voice was smug. “But I can give you a demonstration.”
She sensed the blood draining from her face at his thinly veiled threat, but there was little time to dwell on what it might mean for her, his instructions coming before she could take another breath.
“Amy, turn toward me.”
Her feet moved, acting on instinct and the training he’d provided her with over the prior few days. Obedience had brought her the type of pleasure she’d never even known existed, as well as the reassurance that Jonah would be looked after. That type of incentive was difficult to dismiss.
“I want to show these fine gentlemen how incredible you are.” He tugged at the lace covering her left breast. “So, lose this, please.”
She watched his fingers as they reverted back to the knife beside his salad. “Sir?” In the haze of burgeoning dread and arousal, it was all she could think to say.
“You heard me.” Kyle didn’t look up that time, but the gazes of the others seared her. All four of them stared as she prepared herself for what was to come.
It wasn’t as if she didn’t know the game. Kyle had ordered her to expose herself numerous times since she’d arrived. But there was something different, something darker, about doing it in front of an audience of his choosing.
Something sexier…
Her eyes fluttered closed as the resonance of that thought traveled along her spine. He’d made it sound as though they were his old friends, acquaintances that she could get to know like any regular new couple, but as she started to wriggle free of the fabric shrouding her breasts, she was hit by just how stupid that assumption had been. There was nothing regular about her captivating association with Kyle nor the situation they found themselves in. Normal couples didn’t work for one another, and one party didn’t normally find themselves indebted to the other, and that was before she even considered the relentless sexual charge between them. Being around Kyle was one long and riveting rollercoaster.
“She’s doing it!”
She refused to lift her head and acknowledge who had spoken, her concentration focused firmly on retrieving her breasts from their safe haven. Once both were liberated to the cooler air, she forced her hands to her sides. The others were going to see her anyway, so she might as well let them get on with it.
“Lovely.” Kyle’s voice oozed with satisfaction. “Well done, gorgeous.”
Her gaze darted to his face, clinging to the iota of faith she found there. That somehow, against all odds, Kyle would still save her. That he would push her to the edge, yet stop her from falling.
It made no sense to trust him, especially in her current predicament. She despised standing there, topless for all the strangers to scrutinize, but she’d done so without complaint for him and for the promise of the pleasure she already sensed tingling in her clit.
“Wow!” The man on Kyle’s right side mouthed the word in a loud whisper. “That’s amazing. She’s lovely!”
“Yeah.” Kyle reached for her nearest breast, trailing a line over her goosing skin until he reached for a puckered nipple. “She is.”
“And she’s doing all of this for a salary?” another one asked.
“She’s doing it because she loves it.” Kyle’s attention never left her skin as he answered. “She needs this as much as I do.”
Amy wasn’t so sure about that, but she didn’t quibble the point. How could she? She had, as one of the others had pointed out, obeyed his command to partially disrobe, and she accepted, at least on some level, she’d done so because it turned her on to please him.
I do want this. Her brows knitted briefly at the disconcerting thought. What’s wrong with me?
“I always knew you were fucked up, Kyle, but this is something else.” Another voice floated past her, but once again, she didn’t acknowledge its owner. Aside from Kyle, who said what hardly mattered, she noticed the underlying sound of awe in the voice.
Whoever the men were, they were there to witness her denigration. She understood that, and when Kyle’s thumb and forefinger squeezed her tender nipple, instinctively, she appreciated the exquisite shot of pain the pinch produced.
This was what it had all been about—parading her in front of them, not only for his but for her enjoyment. She would never have believed it possible until that moment, but standing there, she considered kneeling by his feet, even though he hadn’t given her the command.
She longed to yield.
“Please, gentlemen.” Kyle’s voice soothed, even when it wasn’t directed at her. “Tuck into your salads.”
“Your assistant is a little too distracting…” The man at his left side laughed gently.
“Apologies.” Kyle turned his head to glance at her. “Looks like we’ll need some time to eat, beautiful. How about you find Chef and see if there’s a plate for you? You deserve something nice to eat for all your effort.”
“Hear, hear,” the same man retorted, picking up his cutlery.
“Yes, sir.”
Giving him the answer, she was emboldened somehow, although the reasoning was all muddled in her head. She shouldn’t be aroused at the prospect of stripping for and serving men she didn’t know, let alone empowered by the acts, yet as she caught Kyle’s eyes, she accepted she no longer cared about logic.
She would do what she had to do, what she craved. For her sons, for Kyle, and damn it, for her own hedonism. She deserved that much.
“Before you go, Amy, kneel.”
Kyle’s command took her by surprise, but she resisted the urge to query him and succumbed, falling slowly to her knees by his side. It was as though he’d read her thoughts and understood her desire to surrender. After so many days of intensity, maybe he did.
“Come here.” He beckoned her forward with his right hand, his digits burying into her tresses as soon as she’d shuffled along the floor to his liking. “I have something for you before you go.”
It was difficult to say what was going through her head as she complied, but she comprehended on some level that it was the power of his blue gaze that held her there every inch as much as his fingers in her hair. Kneeling less than five inches from his body, she waited as he lowered, twisting his body so their faces met. The adoration in his eyes was like the light of the sun—warm, comforting, and damn near impossible to resist.
“Good girl, Amy.” His hand shifted to her nape, the digits tightening at her neck. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Her gaze flickered closed as his lips neared, her body already yielding to the caress he was about to bestow.