I look into the dark depths before me, seeing what I always see, the young man who likes to taunt me, practically torture me with his very presence every day. But there’s something else in there, something almost… vulnerable, needy, as if begging for my help.
I decide to be honest. “Not of you, Nathaniel,” I whisper. “Just… just of what you could do.”
His eyes fall to my lips then meet mine once more. “And what’s that?”
I swallow, trying to decide what I should say. What if he hasn’t thought of all the things he could do with this information? If I tell him what I fear, it could just give him ideas. But of course, this is Nate Black we’re talking about. I’m sure fifty different scenarios entered his brilliant mind the moment he saw what he walked into. So again, I go with honesty, because that’s just who I am.
“You… you could ruin my life.” I try to keep my voice strong, but the last word comes out in a whimper, my chin wobbling.
I hear people approaching from the side of the building where the underground parking lot is located, but Nate doesn’t move. And the people don’t say anything as they enter the club through the door right next to us, probably thinking we’re a couple in the middle of a role-playing scene or something.
“You’re right, Ms. Richards. I could.” His gaze falls to my lips once more, and he leans in. I close my eyes, bracing myself for his kiss, my heart pounding in my chest so hard it makes my nipples hard beneath the lace of my bra. But the kiss never comes. Instead, I feel the sharp edge of his chiseled jawline against my cheek as he whispers in my ear, “So how about we go back to your house and talk about what you can do to assure that doesn’t happen.” It’s an order more than a question. And I nod in agreement this time instead of questioning him.
“O-Okay,” I reply quietly, gripping my key fob.
He takes a step away from me, and I’m confused by my body’s reaction. It’s not relief I feel when he finally gives me space. It’s a sense of loss I don’t understand. As if my security blanket has been taken away from me, leaving me exposed and cold in the night. I shiver, even though the temperature outside is mild, so I tuck the neck of my trench coat closer to my chest.
“After you, Ms. Richards,” he says, and gestures for me to walk before him in the direction of the parking garage entrance. We don’t say another word to each other on the short walk up the sidewalk and around the corner, and I’m surprised when he follows me down the steps, because one has to have a special pass when you enter through the vehicle entrance for the gate to open. But then I realize he’s not going to his own vehicle. He’s escorting me to mine.
My doors automatically unlock when I get near it, and as my hand reaches out to grab the handle on my driver side door, Nate beats me to it, pulling it open for me. “Thank you,” I murmur, folding myself inside. And then before I know what’s happening, his big body is in front of me, taking away all of my oxygen he’s so close, his form much too big for my little car. “W-what are you doing?” I squeak, and then I hear the click of my seatbelt being buckled.
“Don’t worry, little mouse. Just making sure you’re safe,” he tells me, and his deep voice and the amusement in his tone make me shiver.
“Th-thank you,” is all I can say as he slides himself back out, bracing one hand on the top of my door and the other on the roof as he stays bent to look me in the eyes.
He gives me a small smile that does little to ease my anxiety. It’s more like the cat that got the canary, a dark and nerve-wracking but sultry edge to his expression as he watches me. “Be careful driving. I’ll be behind you,” he orders, and I nod.
“All right,” I whisper.
“I overheard you say you were meeting someone here. It would only be polite to let them know your plans for the night changed.”
My chin wobbles. Hot tears prickle the backs of my eyes. He’s ruining everything. My one night that gets me through the rest of the week. My dose of submission that allows me to function and make decisions every other day. And the added knowledge that he did overhear Dixie and me talking just makes everything ten times worse. He now knows things about me I never wanted anyone else to learn, much less a student, far less my boss’s son.
I don’t realize a tear has escaped until I feel his gentle finger wiping it away from my cheekbone.
“Ah, don’t look so sad, Ms. Richards. I’m sure we can work something out.”
I don’t know what to make of his words. Are they a threat… or a promise?
I guess I’ll find out soon enough, because he steps back and closes my door, tapping the roof of my car like he does my desk every day after his parting words. And like always, it makes me nearly jump out of my skin. I blow out a breath and start the car, seeing him nod at me through the window before he turns and makes his way up the stairs to the sidewalk.
I send Lancelot a text apologizing, telling him I won’t be able to make it tonight. He sends one back immediately saying he’ll miss me but not to worry about it. I’m sure he has a line of submissives waiting for the chance to experience his flogging expertise.
The thought makes me bitter. If it weren’t for Nathaniel Black IV, then I would be excitedly awaiting my Dom’s arrival inside the club. Instead, I’m putting my car in reverse, backing out of the parking space, and heading home to see just how thoroughly Nate plans to ruin my life.
Chapter 5
Nate
Seeing her exit the parking garage, I pull away from the curb and fall in line behind her, no longer needing to keep a distance and make sure my presence stays hidden. She knows I’m following her, back to her house, back to where she spends her nights after she gets off work every day after I’ve spent an hour making her squirm.
Does she think of me once she gets home? Does she obsess over me the way I do her, never escaping my face even when I’m not around? Does she think of me when she lets those other men… do things to her, things that make her come over and over again?
My hands tighten on the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white, and my nostrils flare with rage and jealousy. It’s ridiculous, I know, to be jealous over Evelyn being with other guys when I’ve been with just as many if not more girls. What’s fucking me up is imagining this new reality, when I’d thought she was so innocent, pure, even virginal. How many times had I thought about taking her virginity while I’d fucked my fist? How many times had I pictured pulling out of her and seeing my cum mixed with her blood? Now I know that will never happen, and instead, Ms. Richards is….
No, I refuse to think of her as a freak. She’s no more a freak than I am. She just obviously has needs that have to be fulfilled in a not-so-traditional way. A way that seems to be the opposite of mine, and the perfect match at the same time. She desires to be mastered? To submit and give herself over to someone and allow them to bring pleasure to her willing body repeatedly… until she can barely walk?
She’s exactly what I never knew I could even dream of. Someone who would take my dominance happily, want it, crave it, get off on it over and over.
But I’ve never let that side of me loose before.