Chapter 11
Deacon
“You don’t have to wait.” Charlotte gave me an anxious look.
“Stop chewing your lip, please,” I said.
She released her lip, licking away the faint trace of blood on it.
“Good girl,” I said, hoping to ease her obvious angst, but for once, my praise didn’t help.
“Really, it’ll start,” she said.
“That’s good. Climb in and start it,” I said.
She looked up and down the road, already starting to shiver a little. “Okay, right. Yes, I’ll do that.”
She opened the door, wincing at the squeal it made and the rust that drifted down to litter the snow like dull flakes of blood. She climbed in, and I put my hand on the door so she couldn’t close it.
“Go ahead,” I said.
With a look of hopeful desperation, she turned the key. The car made a wheezing whine before dying. She grimaced and pumped the gas before turning the key again. This time, the car started, but the relief on her face disappeared when it belched out a cloud of black smoke and died again.
Chewing on her bottom lip again, she tried a third time. The car wheezed and groaned but didn’t start, and I leaned down. “It’s not going to start, Charlotte.”
She nodded and yanked out the key before stuffing it into her purse. “You’re right.”
She rubbed her forehead, and I said, “Did you want me to Google a tow truck company?”
She hesitated. “I don’t, uh, currently have the funds for a tow truck.”
“All right. Call an Uber, and I’ll wait with you until it comes,” I said.
“There’s a bus stop not far from here,” she said. “It’s only a five minute walk.”
I studied her. “Do you think I don’t know where the bus stops are in my neighbourhood, Charlotte?”
For the first time, she showed a little attitude. “I think you’re rich enough that you don’t have to worry about where the bus stops are in your neighbourhood.”
I was happy to see some fire from her. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was worried about how exhausted and stressed she looked.
“I know the closest one is back on the main road, and it’ll take at least an hour for you to walk to it. Call an Uber, Charlotte.”
Her lips thinned out, and she looked away.
“You don’t have enough money for an Uber?” I could hear the surprise in my voice, and two red spots appeared high on her cheeks. “How exactly are you planning on getting your car towed out of here?”
“It’s payday tomorrow,” she said before sliding out of her car and slamming the door shut. “Good night, Mr. Steele.”
I caught her arm as she started to march down the road. “Charlotte, wait.”
“I’m exhausted and want to go home,” she said.
“I’ll give you a ride home.”
She laughed a little bitterly. “That’s definitely against the rules, and I don’t want to be fired by the sisters.”
“I won’t tell them if you don’t,” I said.
She didn’t move, and I stepped closer, sliding my arm around her waist and pulling her against me. “I’m not asking, Charlotte. I’m telling you that I’m giving you a ride home. Now, be my good girl and get in the car.”
“Yes, Mr. Steele,” she said in defeat.
Half an hour later, I parked in front of an older apartment building in a section of town that wasn’t quite the bad part but bordered it more closely than I liked. I shut off the car as Charlotte unbuckled her seatbelt. “Thank you so much for the ride home, Mr. Steele.”
“You’re welcome.”
She opened her door and looked startled when I did the same. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’ll walk you to the lobby,” I said.
“Oh, it’s fine,” she said. “This is a safe neighbourhood.”
“I doubt that’s true.” I slammed my door shut and joined Charlotte on the sidewalk. I took her hand, scanning the area around us before walking her to her building. She used her key to open the door and gave me another faint smile.
“Thank you again.”
“You’re welcome.” I touched her elbow. “I’m going to ask you to break another rule, Charlotte.”
She blinked at me. “What rule?”
“I’d like us to exchange cell numbers. If your car breaks down again on the way to my house, you can call me directly.”
She started chewing on her bottom lip, and I used my thumb to tug it free. “Don’t do that, Charlotte.”
She fidgeted under my gaze before saying, “I don’t want to be fired.”
“You won’t be,” I said. “I promise I won’t tell the sisters you gave me your number. I’d be fired as well, remember.”
She fidgeted a bit more before nodding. “Yes, okay. We can exchange numbers.”
“Good.” I took out my phone and handed it to her. “Add your number, please.”
She added it and gave it back to me. I immediately texted her, and she smiled a little when her phone chimed. “Did you think I gave you a fake number?”
I grinned at her. “Of course not, but now you have my number. I’ll be booking you for our usual Sunday. If your car breaks down, call me.”
“All right. Thank you,” she said. “And I’m sorry again for missing our session this evening. I’ll contact the sisters in the morning and let them know it was all my fault.”’
I shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. Shit happens, right?”
“Yes.” She paused in the doorway, looking a little like she was contemplating inviting me in before she said, “Good night, Mr. Steele.”
“Good night, Charlotte.”
* * *
Riley
I tuckedmy scarf tighter around my neck and jammed my hat onto my head before pulling the bell. The bus stopped, and I made my way to the middle door. It opened with a loud whoosh, and I stepped out into the cold air.
I cinched the backpack straps tighter on my shoulders, pulled on my mittens, and, bending my head against the wind, started the walk toward Mr. Steele’s house. The sun shone brightly, but it was bitterly cold, and it didn’t take long for my body to go numb despite the layers of warm clothing I had bundled myself into.
I walked faster, swinging my arms hard and fast to get the blood pumping. It would take me about an hour to walk to Mr. Steele’s house, and I burrowed my face deeper into my scarf. I was thankful he had booked me for Sunday afternoon, not evening. Although the bus would still be running even after an evening play session, walking in the cold darkness would be even more unpleasant.
By the time I was halfway there, I was already dreading the walk back. My lungs ached from the cold air, my legs burned, and I felt frozen to the bone despite wearing so many layers of clothing.
It couldn’t be helped, though. I’d gotten my car towed to a mechanic, and while Marvin could be fixed, it would take all of my extra cash from my paycheque, plus everything from what I made today with Mr. Steele. I didn’t even have enough left to pay for an Uber ride to Mr. Steele’s. And if he didn’t give me his usual hundred dollar tip, I’d need to get real creative with my meals for the week.
I carried on grimly, my breath puffing out and causing little icicles to form on my scarf that poked at my sore bottom lip. Thursday and Friday had gone a little better with Mr. Rainer in that he’d ignored me rather than berated me. Of course, I had obsessively and repeatedly gone over everything he gave me, looking for even the tiniest error, before giving it to him. He couldn’t be angry with me if I was perfect, right?
The two days had been draining mentally and physically, but I hadn’t made a single mistake. My perfection hadn’t been noticed or praised, and I hated that it bothered me. I disliked Mr. Rainer, so my need for his approval ate at me. What was wrong with me that I needed to be liked and respected by everyone I met? It was exhausting and pointless. This praise kink thing could be overwhelming and exasperating sometimes.
You’ll get your fill this afternoon.
Just that thought alone made me happy. I walked even faster, despite my burning legs, anxious to get to Mr. Steele’s house for the praise I craved.
* * *
I arrivedat Mr. Steele’s with fifteen minutes to spare. I stepped into the deliciously warm house, my cold body moving stiffly as I removed my winter boots and slid my backpack to the floor. I hung up my jacket, stuffing my scarf, mittens, and hat into the pockets, and grabbed my backpack. It felt weird to be wearing something other than work clothes in his house, but the thick hoodie, two t-shirts, leggings and the jogging pants I wore over them had kept me from freezing to death.
You sure about that?
I ignored my inner grumbling as I walked up the stairs to the guest bathroom. The house was quiet and peaceful, and I already felt a little better just being here. Soon, I would be Mr. Steele’s good girl and the restlessness and anxiety I’d felt all week would disappear.
I took my carefully folded work clothes from the backpack, muttering a curse when I realized I had forgotten my nylons. Quickly, I stripped off my clothes and put on my work clothes. I slipped into my heels, hoping Mr. Steele wouldn’t be upset that I wasn’t wearing nylons.
Despite all the clothing layers, my body was numb, my cheeks were bright red, and I couldn’t stop shivering. I stuffed my clothes into the backpack and checked my phone before turning it off and throwing it on top.
I had one minute to get to his office and hurried down the hallway. Mr. Steele sat in his usual spot behind his desk, and, like before, he didn’t look up from his computer when I entered the room. I sank to my knees on the cushion beside the door, bowed my head, and folded my cold hands in my lap.
The coldness in my bones, the burning in my legs, and the achy sting of my bottom lip faded away. Peace and a sense of purpose washed over me, and I embraced it fully. This was what I needed, what I craved.
I expected Mr. Steele to make me wait like he had before, and I hid my shock when he stood only a few seconds later and walked toward me. I kept my gaze on my lap and my back straight, waiting eagerly for his greeting.
“Hello, Charlotte.”
I lifted my head and smiled at him. “Hello, Mr. Steele.”
A scowl creased his forehead, and my anxiety shot to the surface. Shit, what had I done wrong?
“Stand up, please,” Mr. Steele said.
I stood, wincing at the sting when I automatically started chewing at my damn lip.
“Your cheeks are bright red, and you’re shaking.” Mr. Steele took my hands. “Your hands are freezing. Did your car break down again?”
I shook my head quickly. “No, it’s still at the mechanic.”
Disapproval flashed across his face, but before I could apologize, he pulled me toward the couch in his office. The fireplace was already turned on, its bright flames sending warmth and light over the sofa. Mr. Steele sat and patted his lap. “Sit down, Charlotte.”
I hesitated. I wasn’t a small girl and didn’t do things like sit on a man’s lap. Hell, I even got self-conscious about being on top during sex. I was so busy trying to keep most of my weight off of the guy while still looking sexy that climaxing in that position was impossible.
“Do as I say,” Mr. Steele said.
I sat gingerly on his lap, tensing my stomach muscles to help me balance as I mostly hovered on his thighs. He made a grunt of disapproval, and his arm slid around my hips, pulling me off balance and fully into his lap.
“Better,” he said before tugging me closer so that I was resting against his chest. He rubbed my back. “Did you walk from the bus stop?”
“Yes,” I said. “I dressed warmly, though, and changed when I got here, so it was fine.”
“You’re freezing,” he said, touching my hands again. “You can’t stop shivering.”
“It was a little colder than I expected,” I admitted. “But, honestly, I’m good.”
“Why didn’t you take an Uber?” he asked. “You said you were paid on Friday.”
“Marvin is an expensive guy,” I said.
He raised an eyebrow. “Marvin?”
“My car,” I said.
A small grin flashed across his face. “Right.”
He examined my bottom lip and I looked away self-consciously. He caught my chin between his finger and his thumb. “Look at me, please.”
My need to obey and please him had me turning my head back immediately, letting him look his fill at my lip.
“Are you ready to tell me what happened at work that caused you to do this?” He pressed lightly on my bottom lip.
“It was made very clear that I am not to share personal information with clients,” I said.
He ran his thumb gently across my lip. “I’d like to know.”
I hesitated. “If I tell you something personal, can I ask you something personal?”
“Yes, but I reserve the right to refuse if it’s too personal.”
“Fair,” I said. “My new boss started on Monday. I made a bad first impression and tried hard the rest of the week to prove to him that I was good at my job, but it didn’t work. He sees me in a certain light, and I can’t change his mind. I take pride in being good at my job, and this is my first time failing. It’s stressful to me because I want to please him.”
Mr. Steele’s body tensed beneath me, and scowl lines creased his forehead.
“Not in a sexual way,” I said quickly, “but I need his approval because my need for approval and praise dominates my life. I hate it, but I don’t know how to fix it.”
He stroked my back in slow circles. “Wanting approval isn’t necessarily something that needs to be fixed,” he said.
“It is when it affects my life so negatively,” I said. “One unappreciative boss, and I’m a wreck. I haven’t dated anyone in over two years because I am a giant green flag to a certain kind of guy. They’re drawn to me like a moth to a flame and my need for approval, for their praise, makes me blind to who they truly are. I wasn”t surprised when the sisters told me how high I’d scored on the praise kink scale. The only other chart I scored on was for impact play, and it was what Catherine called a small blip. That threw me off, but Celeste said it probably just meant I like a bit of spanking now and then from a partner.”
I fell silent, realized with horror what I’d just said, and blushed furiously. “Oh God, that was way more personal than I meant to get. Could you forget everything I said after ‘I have a new boss, and I’ve made a bad impression on him’?”
Mr. Steele laughed, and the sound of his low laughter made something pull and tighten deep in my lower belly. I ignored my urge to lean forward and brush my lips against his.
“Can I ask you my personal question now?” I said.
He nodded. “You may.”
“Why don’t you get along with your parents?”
His hand on my back stilled for a few seconds before beginning its slow circling again. “They believe I was given something that belonged to them.”
“Oh,” I said. I had no idea what he meant by that, but I didn’t want to pry. It might upset him and make him end the play session, and I needed his praise tonight. Not just for the money but for my mental health, too.
He studied me and said, “When my grandparents died, they were wealthy. They left the majority of the wealth to me rather than my parents. My parents are angry about it and have never gotten over it.”
“I’m sorry, that must be difficult for you,” I said.
He shrugged. “My parents were never that attentive. Sometimes, I think they only had me because my grandparents wanted a grandchild. But the money has driven a wedge between us that can’t be fixed - at least not unless I give them the money they believe they’re owed.”
I took his free hand and squeezed it. “Your grandparents gave it to you because they wanted you to have it.”
“They did,” he said and gave me a small smile. “Trust me, I have no intention of giving it to my parents. They are in no way destitute and live a very comfortable life. Even if I gave them money, it wouldn’t be enough. It’s never enough for them.”
We sat silently for a few minutes before he squeezed my thigh. “If you prefer not to do a play session today, I’ll understand.”
“No,” I said quickly. “No, I want to do one. Please, I… need this.”
I was embarrassed by how eager and even a little pathetic I sounded, but Mr. Steele”s smile warmed me better than the heat from the fire ever could. “I need it too, sweet Charlotte.”
Riley, I wanted to blurt out. My name is Riley, and I would love to hear how it sounds coming from your perfect lips. Instead, I said, “Thank you, Mr. Steele.”
He squeezed my thigh again. “I’ve left some work at your desk. Email it to me when you’re finished.”
“Yes, Mr. Steele.” I slid off his lap and hurried over to my desk.