Chapter 6 GRAYSON #2
Maybe if they got out of the office, away from the club, he’d thought.
After a phone call to Rio to keep an eye out for the stools being delivered to the new arena, he asked about going back to her apartment.
He’d been over perhaps twice before, but nothing stood out to him about those times or her place.
“I’m sorry it’s not in better shape, Sir, I wasn’t expecting company.”
“It’s fine, Miss. Go lie down.”
So here they were, and he was barely interested. He’d teased her, and pushed her to the edge several times without letting her cum at first, until she was shaking and whining. He hated whining, so he’d quickly forced her over to shut her up. She’d cum with a keening wail he’d choked into silence.
Where was the fire, he thought, the resistance? He knew Brittany wasn’t his style of sub, and that submissives ran the gamut from entirely pliant to… not at all.
Maybe he was wrong in asking Brittany for company tonight, he mused, his eyes running over her as she strained against the velvet ties she’d given him to tie her up. Her knees were half bent, and every part of her was open to him as she lay face down.
Maybe it was wrong of him to use her, he thought again, but Brittany had never minded being used. If anything, she preferred it. Being used in bed gave her the rights to use her Dom out of bed. It worked for her; didn’t work for him. He wondered what Alexis preferred.
Doe-brown eyes flashed in his mind again, and he shot the rest of the whiskey back, burning his throat. Reminding him of a smirk as he’d scalded himself on a jalapeno popper. His dick came to attention. Goddammit.
He climbed behind Brittany, quickly sheathing himself in a new condom, and drove into her hard, making her cry out. Grayson deliberately wiped his mind and sought release. She would definitely have bruises in the morning.
It was only once he was in a too-small shower, barely able to breathe through the overpowering scent of vanilla, that he realized how much of a mistake he’d made. Brittany had wanted to shower with him, and almost cried when he said no.
So there she was, talking at him on the other side of the curtain, because she’d insisted he could shower first. While normally he would let his sub clean up first, he wanted out. Everything she did was grating on his nerves.
“-and I don’t know what your plans are for the morning, Sir, but I was thinking maybe we could do breakfast at that place on Germantown?”
Grayson frowned, quickly using a dollop of honey shampoo to wash up with instead of her sweet, flowery body washes. He almost used one of them before realizing the damn bottle was full of glitter. Jesus.
Another thing about Brittany - she always wanted the best, the most expensive, and to be seen. She had a mercenary streak in her and she was pushy about it, in her submissive way. And if he said no, she’d pout.
“I’m not spending the night,” he said, hoping the finality of his tone would be the end of the conversation.
To his relief, silence reigned as he finished rinsing off.
A relief that was short-lived as soon as he pushed back the shower curtain.
Brittany wasn’t pouting now - she was furious.
From the sex, her makeup had smeared, and he was being glared at from behind raccoon eyes and offset contour.
If he hadn’t felt the brief glimmer of guilt, he would have found it hysterical.
But this situation was his doing, and he needed to treat her fairly.
“Brittany,” he said, intentionally leaving out the Miss, “I asked you if you wanted to get together tonight. You said yes. I’ve told you several times that I’m not your Dom, and I meant it. I have no interest in a relationship right now. I’m sorry if you thought otherwise.”
She stormed out of the bathroom, which was a relief.
Back in the bedroom, he found his clothes in a pile by the wall, instead of where he’d left them carefully folded on her makeup table.
He rolled his eyes. She’d always been dramatic, but he didn’t know she was this immature. This was unacceptable.
“Brittany,” he said, using his Dom voice.
She came to the doorway, arms crossed, with a petulant look on her face.
“Is there a particular reason you threw my clothes on the floor?”
She wouldn’t meet his eyes and shrugged. Grayson sighed.
“You’re behaving like a child. Pick up my clothes, and put them back where I had them.”
Brittany sneered. “I don’t have to, you’re not my Dom.”
Enough was enough.
He walked over to her, slowly. He kept eye contact and lowered his head. She shifted away from him until her back was against a wall, where he casually put a hand around her throat. And lifted. She was light. He waited.
Instead of fear, he saw lust in her eyes, and was disgusted by the realization. Manipulative bitch. She was acting like a brat just to get this response from him. He could turn the tables easily enough.
He waited. Her face turned red. With mild disinterest on his face, he waited. Her face was mottling purple by the time fear registered on her face, and she began scratching at his hand. He put her down but kept her pressed against the wall.
“Pick. Up. My. Clothes,” he whispered.
Heaving in breath, she glared up at him before stomping to the other side of the room. She scooped them up and unceremoniously splayed them on the bed, spending just enough effort to straighten the shirt and the pants. He hung up his towel, unashamed of his nakedness.
Under her scowl, he got dressed, taking the time to adjust his hair in one of her many mirrors.
He was at the door before he remembered something. The power dynamic still wasn’t perfect yet. She needed to remember who was on top.
“Brittany?” he called.
She hadn’t left the bedroom, and came to the doorway.
“I noticed you’ve been late a few times recently to work. Don’t let it happen again.”
Grayson knew it was a petty move, but it put her firmly in the place of employee.
Employee only. They held eye contact a long, tense moment before he closed the door behind him, relieved it was over.
He’d gotten his release, but this sure as hell wasn’t worth it.
This was what he meant when he told Lexi that he wasn’t interested in maintaining a sub right now.
His phone vibrated as he got into his Lexus.
Miss Alexis
See you in the morning.
Bring a water bottle.
Wear workout clothes.
He smiled wryly as he turned up the volume in his car for the ride home. It seemed it was his night for bossy women. This one, however, he didn’t mind as much as the bratty behavior. At least Lexi was straight forward.
Would you like
me to bring
you anything?
Grayson didn’t consider it strange that he would offer to bring Alexis breakfast when he’d been nauseous at the idea of having breakfast with Brittany.
They would keep it simple, he determined. A breakfast sandwich, maybe some coffee. She’d have to tell him what she liked. Before he drove away, he looked up where he might stop near her gym on his maps.
Miss Alexis
What? Like what?
No.
Stop being weird.
I’ll see you at 7.
Grayson blinked at his phone. Stop being weird? It was weird of him to offer to bring her something? A potential submissive? A potential employee he was trying to win over, she thought it was weird.
He laughed until his ribs hurt and pulled out of the parking space. The tension that had crawled inside his skin eased. He didn’t think of Brittany again, nor did he see the curtains twitch as she watched him drive away.