The Enticement: The Submissive Series Page 7

  “Thanks. If I decide to write for you, I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll have to think about what I could do for the first post. I don’t particularly like any of these suggestions.” I raised an eyebrow to make sure she was in agreement with me, and at her nod, I continued. “I’d like to do something completely different for the first post. Something, like you said, not necessarily new, but for certain something most people wouldn’t have seen or read.”

  “Yes, keep going.”

  “Something that appeals to the population at large. It has to have a hook to draw them in. And after they finish reading it, they want to come back and read the next post.” I paused, trying to think of something that met that criteria.

  “Sort of like an author who ends a chapter with a cliff-hanger and you can’t put it down, but have to keep going,” she said.

  “Right. Or like when they end the entire book on a cliffhanger.”

  “Exactly like that. I have a love/hate relationship with those types of books.”

  “You know, I was a librarian before I had my second child and stayed at home.”

  She leaned forward, all curious like. “No, I had no idea.”

  “That’s what I was doing when I first became a submissive for the man who would be my husband.”

  “Interesting. There might be something there. The librarian with a kinky side. Or something about the quiet type. Maybe how you can’t judge people.”

  “I feel like I need to write these down. These are great suggestions.” I especially liked the one about judging people. I often found myself doing that, even with those in the lifestyle. Not as much now as I had years ago, though. And though I tried not to assume anything about people’s sex lives, something about Meagan made me think she had experience in the BDSM lifestyle. “One thing I have to remind myself is that even if you know someone’s kinky, you can’t automatically tell which role they fall into.”

  “Abby, I have a feeling you are the perfect person for this position. I sincerely hope you give serious thought to accepting it.”

  * * *

  I sent Nathaniel a text as soon as the meeting was over and I was in a cab headed back to the penthouse we owned in the city.

  Meeting went great. Will tell you all about it when you get home.

  His reply was immediate.

  So glad to hear. Have been thinking about you all day. Can’t wait to hear the details.

  I smiled and typed back a quick “Love you” before calling Elaina to see how the kids were doing. Nathaniel wouldn’t be off work for another three hours, so to help pass time until we left for the estate, I got out a notebook and pen and began to brainstorm on possible topics for the first post.

  I’d jotted down only a page of notes when the sound of the door opening caught me by surprise. I stood up. Housekeeping wasn’t due until the next day and the building manager would have sent either Nathaniel or me a note before using his master key to enter.

  I broke into a silly grin when Nathaniel walked into the room.

  “Hey,” he said, wearing his own silly grin.

  “You’re early,” I said, walking over to him. “I wasn’t expecting you for another few hours.”

  “Like I could work without knowing how your meeting went.” He dropped his briefcase and the corner of his mouth quirked up. “So, tell me the details.”

  “Mmm.” I reached up and slipped my hands under the lapels of his suit jacket. I pushed it up and off his shoulders. He shrugged out of it and when it fell to the floor, I said, “You’re looking at the latest employee of WNN.”

  A huge grin covered his face and he pulled me into a tight embrace. “Of course they love you. They’d be crazy not to.”

  “It wasn’t just me. They really liked my writing.”

  “It’s a package deal. They go together.”

  “Come here,” I said, taking his hand and leading him to the couch. “I’ll tell you all about it.”

  We sat on the couch for hours, he on one side and I on the other with my feet in his lap, and just talked. I told him all about the meeting and how I was brainstorming ideas for the first post. He was always a good person to bounce things off of.

  He started a sensual massage of my feet while I explained the details of the position and how things would work. When I’d finally told him everything, he grew serious.

  “I’m proud of you, Abby. I think this is going to be a wonderful opportunity for you.”

  “Thank you. I’m really excited about it.”

  “As you should be.”

  I took my feet from his lap and shifted so I was beside him. “How long do we have until we have to leave?”

  He slipped an arm around my shoulders. “Todd was going by the estate when he got off work, so another hour or two.”

  “I have an idea on how we could spend that time,” I murmured, drawing close to him.

  His hands entwined in my hair and his breath was warm against my skin. “Come here and tell me all about it.”

  “There’s a phrase writers use.” I traced the button on the top of his shirt, circled it a few times before unbuttoning it. “‘It’s better to show, not tell.’”

  His breath caught as I continued undoing his shirt. “I think I’m going to like your new job.”

  * * *

  Hours later, we were at home and the kids were in bed. Nathaniel asked me if I wanted to go for a swim since I didn’t head for bed like I typically did, but I told him I needed to get my thoughts together for my first post and do his required meditation. I didn’t plan to write it yet, but all evening my fingers had been itching to get something down on paper.

  I took a blank journal and curled up in the library on a couch with Apollo at my feet. I wrote down a few things, planning to later look over all the ideas and decide which one I wanted to do first.

  My phone buzzed and I looked down in surprise to see it was Christine, the wife and submissive of the man who had mentored Nathaniel.

  “Hey, Christine.”

  “Abby! It’s been ages! How are you?”

  In the early part of my relationship with Nathaniel, he’d taken me to Paul and Christine’s house in New Hampshire for a weekend. Though we had been in a power exchange relationship for months, that weekend had been the first time I’d ever seen anyone else play. It had been an eye-opening experience for me in many ways.

  One of the things I’d taken away from the weekend was the knowledge that I wanted to mentor new submissives. Now, as I chatted with her on the phone and we caught up with each other, I realized that the blog would be another way for me to mentor.

  I told her as much.

  “It sounds like a wonderful opportunity,” she said. “I think it’s important to show the public what BDSM is and what it’s not.”

  “I hope I can do that.”

  “There was a case here recently where a submissive was stalked and later assaulted as she left a club one evening.” There was a rustling of papers. “I printed out the newspaper article on it because she came to one of our meetings about a year ago.”

  I vaguely remembered Nathaniel mentioning the incident. But I never heard what happened.

  “Here it is,” Christine said. “They didn’t find the man who did it. The sad thing is the way the media painted the woman. They twisted it so much, it came out sounding like the woman had asked for it.”

  Nathaniel hadn’t told me that part. “That’s horrible. That poor woman.”

  “Assault is never justified, but to hear some people, it wasn’t that bad because she was kinky.”

  “What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

  “Right? That’s what Paul and I said. We had a group discussion about it.”

  “Let me get my hands on the person who said that.”

  She laughed, but with a touch of sadness. “
How about instead you get your hands on a keyboard and work on fighting the battle that way.”

  “Kind of like the mighty keyboard instead of the pen?”

  “Exactly. If you can educate just one person, then maybe that person will tell someone else and they’ll tell another person and before you know it there won’t be any more stories like that one in the newspaper.”

  “The sad thing is, some of the public might see the assailant as what a Dom is like,” I said. “When I worked at the library, I once overheard a group of women talking about BDSM. Two of the ladies were trying to explain the difference between BDSM and abuse. It was so hard not to jump in and give my opinion. After all, that was the first time I’d ever come across a group talking about BDSM in my library.”

  “Yeah, that must have been strange. But now look at the great opportunity you have to educate so many people.” Her voice dropped a notch. “And I can’t wait to brag to my friends about the famous writer I knew back when she was a novice submissive.”

  “Blogger,” I corrected. “I wouldn’t say I’m a writer yet. I’m a blogger.”

  “Semantics, Abby.” I pictured her rolling her eyes at me. “It doesn’t matter what you call it.”

  We talked a few more minutes before saying our good-byes. By that time, Nathaniel had made it back in the house, having decided to swim by himself. He came into the library and shook his head at me, showering me with water droplets from his hair.

  I shrieked and held my hands up. “What are you doing?”

  “Getting your clothes wet so you have to take them off.”

  I brushed the water drops off my arm. “There are better ways to go about getting me naked.”

  “But this was more fun.”

  I loved seeing him so lighthearted and playful. Almost made up for him getting me wet.

  “I’m going to get you back,” I threatened, trying to think up something evil and mean I could do to him in return.

  “I look forward to it,” he said with a wicked grin.

  “Well,” I said, standing up. “You’ll have to wait. I still have the thirty-minute meditation you assigned me.”

  His grin fell. “Damn. I didn’t expect that to bite me in the ass.”

  It wasn’t the first time I wanted him to bend a rule or tell me I didn’t have to do something he’d commanded. And just like all the other times, I knew he wouldn’t change his mind about my assignment. So I gave him a quick kiss and headed upstairs.

  Chapter Six

  Three weeks later, Meagan called the Friday morning after my first piece went up.

  “Abby!” she nearly yelled and I held the phone away from my ear. “You won’t believe it! It’s fabulous!”

  “The post generated a lot of hits?” I guessed.

  “It’s beyond that. It is a hit. It’s beat the next-highest story on WNN by nearly double the number of hits in its first twenty-four hours.”

  I was stunned. My piece?

  “You’re speechless. It’s okay. I was, too. Your idea to play up your husband’s wealth was brilliant. People are all about rich, good-looking Dominants.” She took a hasty breath. “If you keep generating this much interest, we’re going to have to rethink your role. But, hell, we’ll talk about that later. Let’s celebrate! Free tonight?”

  I could hardly keep up with her, the way she bounced from one topic to the next. “What?”

  “Let’s go to a club. Me and you. Tonight!”

  “Tonight?” My mind calculated all the things I’d need to do. “Let me call Nathaniel and arrange for someone to watch the kids. What time and where?”

  We made arrangements for her to come by the penthouse and then I called Nathaniel.

  “I think it’s a great idea for you to go out and celebrate,” he said. “We’ll spend the weekend in the city?”

  I thought that would be perfect and we arranged a time to meet at the apartment so he could watch the kids. I buzzed around the house, packing a few things and walking around in a general daze. I still couldn’t believe my piece had generated so much attention.

  “You’re the real deal, Abby,” Meagan had said before we hung up. “You’re the wife and submissive of one of the wealthiest men in the city. Who just happens to be one of the best-looking, too. Of course, your readers don’t know what he looks like, but still.”

  “And you can write,” Nathaniel had added when we talked. “Don’t sell yourself short or think it’s just because you married me. It’s what you’re writing that people are responding to.”

  Once Elizabeth made it home from preschool, I loaded everyone into the SUV and we took off to our penthouse. After arriving, I sent Nathaniel a text letting him know where we were and he sent one back saying he’d be getting home early.

  I tried to keep my mind occupied. Elizabeth and I baked cookies, and after Henry’s nap, we all went for a walk in Central Park. We would pass people and I’d wonder if they’d read my article. Surely the odds were good at least some of them had. I hid a smile as we left the park; it was like I had a secret.

  Nathaniel was home when we made it back. I gave him a quick kiss before heading to the bathroom to get ready. It’d been a long time since I’d been out to a club. I sorted through my closet, trying to decide what to wear. I finally settled on a short, black, one-sleeved lace dress. I loved the way I looked in it and it would be perfect for clubbing.

  I pulled my hair into a loose knot, put on some makeup, and slipped into my heels. On my way out of the bedroom, I twisted in front of the full-length mirror.

  Not bad, I thought. Not bad at all.

  Nathaniel was in the living room with the kids and he gave a low whistle when I entered the room. “You look incredible.”

  “Thank you.” I leaned over and kissed him. “Maybe you and I should hit the town soon.”

  “Mmm.” He ran his hand over my ass. “It’s a date.”

  “You’re missing a sleeve, Mommy,” Elizabeth said.

  “Oh no, baby. It’s supposed to be like that.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “That’s silly.”

  “I suppose it is a little silly.” I gave her a hug and kiss and told her to be good for her father.

  “We’ll be fine,” Nathaniel said, as I told Henry good-bye. “Elizabeth is going to invite Henry and me to a tea party. She promised I could wear her purple boa and that she’d serve the cookies you two made earlier.”

  “Sounds like a great evening.” My phone vibrated with a text. “Meagan’s downstairs. I’ll see you guys later.”

  Meagan was waiting for me in the lobby. I was a bit surprised to see her wearing a trench coat.

  “Is it supposed to rain?” I asked, after she gave me a bone-crushing hug.

  “No, I just didn’t want to show off my outfit.” She raised an eyebrow at my dress. “Ready?”

  “Let’s go.”

  She hailed a cab and once inside, I leaned back and took a deep breath while she gave the address to the driver.

  “Ready to have some fun?” she asked.

  “So ready.”

  The drive took a bit longer than I thought it would and when we pulled out of the city, I turned to Meagan.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “A new club. Well, the club’s not new, but the management is.”

  I looked out the window again. “And it’s where?”

  “Almost there.” She pulled out a compact and checked her reflection and patted her hair. Satisfied, she looked up and gave me a grin. “I’m going to buy you a drink when we get there. I had a meeting this afternoon with the execs and they are over the moon with you.”

  I relaxed a little. “I’m so glad it was successful.”

  She nodded. “Here we are.”

  I got out of the taxi and looked around. It was nothing like I expected. There was
no music, no lights, no people. What we had pulled up to looked like a warehouse and there wasn’t even a name posted out front. What the hell kind of place is this?

  As we approached the building, the door opened and a massive bald guy stepped out.

  Meagan trotted up to him. “Derek.”

  The bald guy nodded. “I’ll take the coat.”

  “Thank you, Sir.” She slipped out of her raincoat and I couldn’t stop the gasp I made. Under the coat, Meagan wore only a tiny pair of underwear and a black leather corset.

  The doorman gave a grunt of approval. “I’m working the front for another half hour, but I’ll reserve us a room for later if you’d like.” He glanced up at me. “Your friend can join us if she loses the dress.”

  “We’ll see,” Meagan replied. “And no, she can’t.”

  “Meagan,” I said, as understanding dawned. “What kind of club is this?”

  “A BDSM club,” she answered without so much as blinking. “What did you think it was?”

  Now that we were closer, I heard the rhythmic thump, thump, thump of a bass inside the club—and it matched the thumping of my head. I spun around to face Meagan.

  “What the hell?” I asked.

  “What?”

  “You’re a sub?”

  She lifted a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Actually, I only sub for men. I top women.”

  Her matter-of-fact confirmation of being in the lifestyle didn’t surprise me. I couldn’t say the same for her role. “You’re a switch?”

  “I suppose. If you have to put a name to it.”

  “That’s awesome. I don’t know many switches.” I wondered if she’d let me interview her sometime. “Let’s get a drink.”

  “I can arrange that.” She snapped her fingers at a scantily dressed waitress. “Michelle, bring my friend here a cosmopolitan.”

  The waitress bowed. “Yes, Mistress M.”

  I shook my head and looked around the club for the first time. It was dingy for lack of a better word and smelled like sharp arousal mixed with sweat. Everything was gray and had a general run-down look. Paint peeled off several walls and the concrete floor was stained. Red and blue strobe lights flashed in a corner serving as a dance floor. In the opposite corner, two men were setting up a demo.