He laughs at me. “You go home? I feel like I haven’t been home in days.”
“Which is exactly why I’m making it a point to sleep in my own bed tonight,” I say, smiling at him.
He nods and for a second, I wonder if my little theory about businessmen extends to myself.
Am I just as bad as Richard is? I like to think I’m not. My employees respect me, maybe even like me. I’m generous with benefits and raises and I never yell. I pride myself on being a good boss, because I absolutely hate bad bosses.
But I’m still at the top of my game, and my personal life definitely suffers for it. I can see myself in men like Richard, or at least part of myself. Still, I’m not like him, and won’t let myself become like him.
I have my pet at home to help keep me sane.
“Well then, down to business so you can get home,” he says, and I know it’s a backhanded insult.
I choose to ignore it. Instead, I take out a contract we’ve been discussing and we dive back in, talking about the intricacies of the deal.
Richard is a hard negotiator, but I know he needs to sell. He took the recession hard a few years ago, and some of his assets are currently losing him a lot of money. This building happens to be one of those assets. I have the capital and the ability to turn it back into a worthwhile place, but Richard has to meet me in the middle first.
He’s playing hardball, though. He doesn’t want to budge an inch on any of his demands, especially not on price, and every concession I get comes at the cost of two more concessions from my side. It’s infuriating and exhausting to keep arguing about petty details, but that’s what Richard seems to want to do.
We go at it for an hour before I’m finally finished for the night. Richard is on his second martini when I lean back, shaking my head.
“Let’s stop here for the night,” I say to him.
“Are you sure?” he asks, grinning. “I feel like we’re just making progress.”
“We’ll resume tomorrow,” I say, though I want to punch him in the face.
“Sure, fine. Whatever you want,” he says. “Make a meeting with my secretary.”
I know that means I probably won’t see him for another week. Richard tosses some bills on the table, clearly overpaying for his drinks but doing it to show off. I don’t really understand that, since we both know I’m worth more than he is, but it doesn’t matter. We stand and walk toward the exit together.
“You and I, Ethan, we’re warriors,” he says to me as we’re walking out.
“How’s that?” I ask him.
“This business is all a fight. And you have to be a warrior to win it. I think you know that.”
“Maybe,” I say. “But it’s not all cutthroat.”
“It is,” he says seriously. “It’s a war, a constant battle. You have to kill your enemies, Ethan.”
“I don’t like doing business that way.”
“Then you’ll lose.” He grins at me, like he’s making a joke, but I know he isn’t.
We stop at the front door. “Okay, Richard,” I say. “Have a good night. My secretary will be in touch.”
“Good. Enjoy being home,” he says. “I’m back to the office.”
We shake hands and I walk away with a sour taste in my mouth.
On the car ride back home, I just keep thinking about how that bastard is going to keep pushing me. He’s going to keep making backhanded insults and comments until this deal is finished, just because he can. He knows he has something that I want, and he’s going to push me as far as he can.
That’s the kind of man he is. He wants to destroy things. But I’m not like that.
I want to dominate things, but I don’t want to destroy them. That’s how I feel about Aria, my little pet back home.
I want to dominate her. But I don’t want to break her. Some men, like Richard, might use her up and walk the line. But I don’t want that. I’d rather spoil her, make her feel good until she’s putty in my hands, willing to do anything for me.
My heart beats fast in my chest as I finally get home and walk inside. Jenkins takes my jacket and my briefcase. “Have Michelle send up dinner,” I say to him. “And bring me a whisky, please.”
“Of course,” he says, disappearing into the kitchen.
I pause at the foot of the stairs.
Aria is up there, waiting for me. I feel a thrill run through my body. She’s up there and she’ll do anything that I tell her to do. No matter what it is, if it’s not hurting her, she’ll do it. Maybe she’ll do it if it does hurt, just a little bit. Maybe she wants it to hurt.
I can feel my cock already getting hard as I climb the steps. My pet, my Aria, tied up to the bed. I’ll slide my cock down her throat and as I pull it back out, she’ll beg for more.
I have to pause outside of her door, heart beating hard in my chest, calming myself. I can’t go in there with my hard cock trying to break through my pants.
Once I’m calm, I knock twice and then open the door. I step inside and find Aria sitting on one of the large, soft white chairs, reading a book. She looks up at me and smiles.
“Ethan,” she says, and sounds genuinely excited.
“Hello, my pet,” I say, smiling as she tries to hide the fact that she doesn’t like that nickname. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to see you until now.”
“That’s okay. I’m keeping myself company.”
I smile at that. “What are you reading?”
“This?” she shrugs. “Nothing. Trash.”
I walk over to her and sit down in the chair next to hers. She shows me the cover and I laugh. It’s some trashy romance with a muscular shirtless hunk on the cover by a woman named Willow Winters.
“What’s it about?” I ask.
“You know, the usual. Boy meets girl. Boy fucks girl until she can’t stand it.” Aria shrugs.
I can’t help but laugh. “Sounds like great literature.”
“It won’t win the Nobel Prize, but it’s good anyway.”
“Did Jenkins bring that?”
“He did, actually.”
“I didn’t know we had that stuff in the house.”
“Apparently someone here loves their dirty stories.”
“Do you like dirty stories?” I ask her.
She blushes slightly. “I guess so.”
“What do you like about them?”
“I don’t know,” she says, looking away. I can tell that she’s embarrassed and I love it.
“Tell me,” I say. “What do you like about them?”
She pauses for a second, searching for the words. “They’re fantasy,” she says finally. “Bad things happen and people don’t communicate, but the drama makes it really hot, and the endings are always happy.”
I watch her for a second, smiling at that. It’s interesting that she specifically mentioned the happy endings as something she likes. Maybe she’s looking for her own happily ever after, but doesn’t even realize it yet.
There’s a knock at the door suddenly. I stand and walk over. Jenkins is standing out in the hall with a cart and my whisky. “Thank you,” I say to him. He nods and heads back to the stairs.