Chapter 7
Deacon
“Christ, that sounds like a nightmare weekend,” Leo said.
I could barely hear Leo over the background noise. “Where the hell are you?”
“The club,” Leo said.
“You’re at the club on a Sunday?”
“Yes, Dad,” Leo laughed. The noise dimmed, and his voice got clearer. “Why do you keep going to see them, Deacon?”
“Because they’re my parents,” I said.
“Yeah, but they don’t give a shit about you. All they care about is your money. How much did they ask you for this time?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Technically, Dad didn’t ask. He just played the ‘they were my parents, they should have given me the money’ guilt game the entire two days.”
“He’s really fucking good at that game,” Leo said.
“Tell me about it.”
“You know you have nothing to feel guilty about, right? Your grandparents left their billions of dollars to you because they loved you and you were fucking good to them and because your dad and mom were nothing but goddamn leeches to your grandparents for their entire lives.”
“It’s not billions of dollars, but yes, I know I don’t need to feel guilty,” I said.
Despite my agreement, Leo was on a roll and getting himself worked up like he often did when the topic of my parents came up. “And it’s not like your parents are hurting for money. Maybe they’re not multi-millionaires like you, but I’ll eat my fucking underpants if they don’t have a cool mil in the bank right this very fucking minute.”
I laughed. “Considering how often you change your underwear, are you sure you want to take that risky bet?”
“First of all fuck you. Second, you gotta cut them out of your life, man. They don’t want anything from you but the money your grandparents left you, and they’re not fucking good for your mental health,” Leo said.
“It’s easier said than done,” I said.
Leo’s voice softened. “Yeah, I know. Listen, you should join me here at the club. It sounds like you could use a little pick-me-up after the weekend you’ve had.”
“It’s almost six and freezing outside,” Deacon said.
“So, what? You act like you’re seventy-five, not thirty-five,” Leo said. “Live a little, old man.”
I laughed. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’d rather not start the new job tomorrow looking like I’ve been up all night fucking multiple women.”
“Who says it has to be multiple? Pick one good girl and release some of the tension,” Leo said. “It’ll be good for you.”
“I don’t need to go to the club for that,” I said. “I’m using the agency again, remember?”
“I remember. You still haven’t told me how it went with the new girl.”
“Good,” I said. My dick hardened just thinking about Charlotte on her knees. “Really good, actually. She’s a total newbie but has great potential and, so far, no bratty tendencies.”
“I can’t believe you let her in after she was late,” Leo said. “You’ve changed, buddy.”
I laughed. “Trust me, if you’d seen her standing on your doorstep, you would have let her in, too.”
“So, she’s as hot in person, huh?” Leo said.
“Hotter,” I said. “Besides, she didn’t know about my tardiness rule. She does now, and I’m confident she won’t be late again.”
“I hope she works out for you, but just remember - don’t get attached.”
“I won’t get attached,” I said. “I learned my lesson with Eloise.”
“All right. You sure you don’t want to join me at the club? There are some hot as fuck ladies here tonight,” Leo said.
“I’m sure,” I said.
“Okay. Good luck with the new job tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll kill it like you always do.”
“Thanks. Later, Leo.” I ended the call, tossing my phone on the island and staring blankly at the fridge. I should make dinner and decompress with a good book and a hot bath before bed. My day would start early tomorrow, and while I wasn’t worried about starting my new job, being well rested would make the first day go more smoothly.
Or, I could text the sisters and see if Charlotte was available for a last minute play session.
I picked up my phone and sent the text before opening the fridge and studying the contents. I grabbed a beer and made a quick sandwich from leftover roast beef, adding some raw veggies to a plate with hummus before sitting at the island to eat. After nearly two days of listening to my parents’ constant badgering, the silence of my home was a welcome relief. I scrolled through Facebook as I ate my sandwich and veggies.
Twenty minutes later, as I was scraping the final carrot through the last dredges of hummus, my phone dinged with an incoming text. Excitement and trepidation mixed in my belly, and I opened the message from the sisters.
A wide grin crossed my face. Charlotte was available for a play session, and she’d be here in half an hour.
* * *
It wasquiet enough in the house to hear the front door opening. My stomach tensed, and I had to work hard to keep my body still and calm. Charlotte was light-footed, but I still heard the creak of the second stair from the top and the click of the bathroom door as it shut.
I grinned. Her refusal to drive without underwear or a bra was cute as hell. I sucked in a deep breath, more nervous than I usually was during a play session.
Maybe because of how quickly you lost control at the last one?
I grimaced. I had lost control, and the urge to take things further was tough to deny. Knowing that Charlotte wanted it had only made it more difficult. I’d only meant to kiss her, to test her reaction and confirm she wasn’t afraid of me. Her desire was immediately obvious, and the taste of her lips, her soft moans, and her magnificent breasts had nearly wiped out my self-control. The way she’d rubbed her little pussy against my leg, looking for her pleasure… fuck, what it had done to me.
If my alarm hadn’t gone off, reminding me our playtime was over, I would have undoubtedly touched her soft cunt, and made her come all over my fingers until she moaned my name. I couldn’t even say goodbye at the last play session. I’d stayed right where I was at the coffee station until I heard the front door close. Then I’d gone straight upstairs and jerked myself off to the memory of Charlotte’s kisses and her lush body rubbing against mine.
My dick was already hard as a rock, and I adjusted myself roughly before scanning my office. The play scene was set and ready to go. I had a document on Charlotte’s desk for her to type. It was just an old contract I’d printed off the internet, but I hadn’t had much time to prepare.
My gaze drifted to the filing cabinet. A stack of file folders sat on the floor beside it. I’d gone through the cabinet and pulled a bunch, mixing them up and stacking them on the floor. They were all dummy files with fake names, and most contained only one or two sheets of plain paper, but it worked well as another ‘job’ Charlotte could do while she was here. And as a bonus, I’d get to see plenty of her plump ass as she bent to do the filing.
I heard Charlotte’s footsteps in the hallway, and I quickly stared at my laptop, deliberately not looking up or acknowledging her when she entered the room. I checked my email and even managed to reply to one or two while keeping Charlotte waiting on her knees for nearly five minutes.
Normally, I would make her wait fifteen minutes. It was a good test, especially for those new to this type of play, but my own enthusiasm wouldn’t let me wait a second past five minutes. I looked up, pride washing over me when I saw Charlotte kneeling on the cushion exactly as I had instructed. My girl was doing so well already.
I studied her closely. Her dark hair had been straight and sleek the last time she was here. This time, it was a delightful mass of curls piled on top of her head, with a few stray curls framing her face.
My clothes were casual tonight - a Polo shirt and jeans, but she wore business attire. The scoop neckline of her pink top showed off her tits and the fabric hugged the curve of her stomach. My dick pressed against my jeans as I imagined pulling the neckline down so I could feast on her perfect naked breasts.
She’d paired the top with a dark gray pencil skirt and stockings. I itched to run my hand over the smooth skin of her legs. I should have told her to lose the nylons as well.
So, you’re planning on doing more than just kissing tonight?
I stood. Why shouldn’t I? Why wouldn”t I reward Charlotte if she was a good girl tonight?
Some men looking for a woman to be their good girl believed punishment and being strict were the keys to success. They were wrong. If they found a woman who blossomed under that type of guidance, then the woman didn’t have a praise kink, at least not the praise kink I was looking for.
I might crave a woman’s obedience, but I wanted her to give it because it made her happy and because being my good girl fulfilled a need for her, not because she was looking for punishment. It’s why I didn’t care for brats. While I had no problem being stern and even doling out the occasional spanking if necessary, ensuring she knew how special she was, how happy she made me, and giving her the praise she craved were the real keys to success.
I stood and crossed the office to stand in front of Charlotte. She kept her head bowed and her hands in her lap, but her fingers tapped against each other, clearly showing her nervousness.
“Good evening, Charlotte.”
“Good evening, Mr. Steele.” Her voice was as soft and sexy as I’d remembered.
“You’ve followed my instructions very well,” I said.
She smiled happily at me. “Thank you, sir.”
“You’ll find a document to be typed at your desk,” I said.
“Yes, sir.” She stood, and I watched the sway of her perfect ass as she walked to her desk. I returned to mine, watching surreptitiously as Charlotte started to work.
She squinted at the screen and the document, and I said, “Charlotte if you usually wear glasses for reading, you should wear them when you’re here.”
She glanced up, her face reddening. “I don’t wear glasses, sir.”
“You should be. When was the last time you had an eye exam?”
“Recently,” she said before admitting, “I’m supposed to wear glasses, but I haven’t ordered them yet. It’s been, uh, a very busy time.”
“This isn’t something you should put off,” she said.
“I know. I’ll do it soon, sir,” I said.
She returned to her document, and I tried to work while waiting for her email. It was impossible. Already, I was itching to kiss her again, to touch her and watch her fall apart in my hands.
When my email dinged, my dick automatically hardened like it was Pavlov’s dog hearing a bell. I opened the email as Charlotte knelt on the cushion beside my desk. I cupped the back of her head, urging her to rest her cheek on my thigh. She did it without hesitation, and I was pleased that the tension I’d felt from her the first time she was asked to do this had disappeared.
As I pretended to look over the document, I tugged lightly on one of the curls piled on her head. Her hair was so soft, and the faint scent of strawberries wafted from it. I tugged another curl. “Is your hair naturally curly?”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
I glanced down at her. Her eyes were closed, and the look of contentment on her face as I played with her hair was the sweetest aphrodisiac for me. I loved how trusting she was after only one play session.
Without opening her eyes and her voice shy, she said, “Do you prefer it straight or curly?”
“I like both,” I said.
“I usually straighten it for work,” she said, “but, um, I didn”t have time because this was last minute. I was in the tub when the Twisted Sisters texted me.”
My dick immediately reacted to my internal image of Charlotte naked and wet in the tub, but my brain homed in on something else. “The Twisted Sisters?”
She froze against me, her eyes popping open. She gave me a wide-eyed look of horror. “Oh God, please don’t tell them I call them that. My friend gave them the nickname, and I know it’s not nice, but it’s lodged in my brain now.”
I laughed, running my fingers through those soft and bouncy curls. “I have a friend who calls them the twin grannies.”
The sexy sound of her laugh made my dick twitch with need. “That almost feels worse than the Twisted Sisters.”
“Oh, it is,” I said. “I thought Catherine was going to gut Leo with her nails when he said it.”
She stared up at me, those pretty dark eyes wide again. “He called her that to her face?”
I nodded, and Charlotte laughed again. “Wow… Leo is a brave guy.”
I felt a stupid little niggle of jealousy at the admiration in her voice. Christ, what the fuck was wrong with me? I pressed her cheek against my pant leg again, my voice terse when I said, “Enough talking, please. I need to finish looking over the document.”
Charlotte immediately tensed and dropped her gaze to her lap. “I’m sorry, Mr. Steele.”
Shit, I really needed to be gentle with her. She was sensitive, and while that didn’t bother me, it meant I’d need to be careful in how I praised and disciplined her.
I lightly kneaded the back of her neck. “You have nothing to apologize for, Charlotte.”
She relaxed again, and I gave the document a cursory look before saying, “Well done, little Charlotte.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said happily.
I squeezed her neck gently. “I need you to do some filing, please.”
“Yes, sir.” She rose gracefully to her feet, and I quickly looked away when it put her breasts directly at eye level. The urge to lean forward and suck on the faint outline of her nipple through her shirt was nearly impossible to deny.
“Is your filing system alphabetical?” she asked as she walked to the filing cabinet. She bent to pick up a file, and I forgot how to fucking speak as I stared at her ass in her tight skirt. Fuck, I wanted to squeeze that perfect ass while she sat on my face, and I ate her sweet cunt.
“Mr. Steele?” Charlotte asked.
My dick a steel pole in my jeans, I said, “Yes, alphabetical.”
The lust nearly overwhelming me made my voice a low rasp. I cleared my throat as Charlotte glanced at me. “File them alphabetically by label name.”
She studied me briefly before nodding. “Yes, Mr. Steele.”