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  The fierce sense of possession in the thought startled him—not his normal reaction to a woman he wanted. That kind of thought lived solely in his head but with Beth it was visceral, something primitive in his gut that screamed she was his.

  He continued to watch her moving around the outer office, admiring her grace and efficiency. He imagined slowly removing her clothing until all she wore were the heels and stockings—her legs were made for them and they’d draw attention to a pussy he would order her to keep smooth.

  The thought of teaching her what D/s was really all about energized him in a way the scene hadn’t for quite some time. This woman belonged in his playroom—and in his bed.

  Sideswiped by the thought, he realized that he was thinking of Beth—and had been for some time—in a context he’d never explored before, that of being involved in a full emotional, physical relationship with a sub wearing his collar.

  In the past, he’d trained subs and collared them to show that they were under his protection while in training but he’d never had a committed relationship with them. He’d also had physically intimate relationships with other subs but without feeling any need or inclination to give them a collar or even to take them to his bed at his house in the country.

  With Beth, though, he wanted his collar round her pretty neck and her sweet body warming his bed, both at the apartment and back at the house.

  The remainder of the afternoon passed well enough—apart from the fact that by four o’clock, it was getting really difficult for Adam to conceal the hard-on he was getting every time Beth came into his office. Or more to the point, when she left it, he found himself lusting after that gorgeous, curvaceous rear as it swayed out of the room, anticipating which implements he would use to bring a rosy hue to her skin.

  The end of his day brought a particularly tense teleconference that Adam was glad to see the end of. He sat back in the executive chair, closing his eyes to try to relieve the tension that was building in his temples. Ever since the explosion that had left its mark on his back fifteen years earlier, he’d been prone to getting these headaches. Still, it was well after five-thirty—the office would be silent and empty when he left to make his way to the club.

  “Mr. Granger, is there anything you need before I go?”

  You. On your knees, between my legs, and hold my cock in your lovely mouth. Don’t suck—if you do your beautiful backside will get twenty.

  He pushed aside the errant thought. “Thanks, Beth—you go and enjoy your weekend.”

  Uncharacteristically, he missed the fact that she didn’t say goodbye. What he didn’t miss was the cool fingers suddenly massaging his temples. Dear God, don’t let this be a dream.

  “Keep your eyes closed,” came her soft voice. “Is there any medication you take for these?”

  He shook his head briefly, unwilling to shatter the moment by speaking. Her touch was gentle but insistent and it was all he could do not to let out a moan of pure pleasure when she started to give him a head massage.

  Silence stretched out and time stopped. The universe held its breath. She was wearing his collar and those wonderful fuck-me heels and he was going to show her what a gloriously sexual animal she was.

  “I hope your head’s starting to feel better, Mr. Granger.”

  Her voice came from somewhere in the direction of the door, drawing him out of the sensual fantasy playing in his mind. He opened his eyes and saw her standing there, jacket on, bag at her feet and knew that if he was taking her back to the apartment tonight, she’d get well and truly fucked whether his headache had gone or not.

  “It is.” How was his voice so steady? “Thank you, Beth—you have a healing touch.”

  She glanced briefly toward the floor, clearly embarrassed by the compliment. He’d have to do something about that during the course of her training. Lowering her gaze like that as part of her submission was one thing—being embarrassed by compliments, especially from him, was something he would not permit.

  “You’re welcome, Mr. Granger. I’m sorry but I have to go now—my bus is due.”

  What on earth had come over her?

  Beth felt her face flame with color as she waited for the elevator. Having fantasies about the man was one thing but actually touching him like that when he was vulnerable, was about the worst idea she’d ever had, and she’d had some doozies in her time. Wasn’t she the one who was determined to remain at more than arm’s length? Thank God she wouldn’t have to face him tomorrow.

  Three years of wanting had finally caught up with her. She’d seen him every working day in that time, witnessed the number of women who had passed through his life and nothing had diminished what she felt for him.

  She sighed unhappily, wondering what he would be doing tonight and who he might be doing it with. He may not have dated for six months but the drought could end at any time.

  The journey home seemed to take longer than usual. When she finally arrived there, she closed the door of the one-bedroom flat behind her and made a beeline for the shower. It was only when she was standing under the hot, soothing cascade that she gave in to the mortified tears of embarrassment that had been threatening ever since she left the office.

  It had felt so good to finally touch him, when she gave in to that stupid impulse to ease away his headache. She’d seen him with them before and her tender heart had ached through not being able to do anything to help. Today she could bear it no longer and had rushed in where angels would fear to tread.

  When she had no more tears left to cry, she emerged from the shower. Drying herself quickly, she wrapped a towel round her sodden hair and pulled on her soft, fleecy dressing gown. She wasn’t going anywhere tonight—no change there, then— so she poured herself a glass of wine, switched on the TV and channel-surfed, trying to find something half-decent to watch, which would take her mind off the fact that another lonely weekend stretched ahead of her.

  Her mind, though, had other ideas. It kept tantalizing her with memories of the way his skin felt, the heady, masculine scent of him…and fantasies of what it would be like to be the woman who shared his bed.

  * * * * *

  A couple of hours after he left the office, Adam was propping up the bar at Club Apollo, slowly sipping his way through his third Scotch of the evening.

  He was dressed in black leather and boots, the flowing white shirt unbuttoned from top to bottom—not a typical item of clothing for a Dom, but Adam had his reasons. He had no interest in acting out a scene tonight, hence the whiskey, but he did have a lot to think about.

  Dan on the other hand was indulging in a scene in one of the private rooms with one of the unattached subs. Adam hadn’t seen him since he arrived but had been told that Dan had taken one of the subs for a little bondage and discipline.

  He looked around the club. It was busy tonight—the place was thronged with people in various states of dress and undress, milling around the lounge, bar and public rooms. The private rooms were fully booked too.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he watched a Dom he didn’t know leading his sub around on a leash. The sub was collared, naked and barefoot. If he brought Beth here she’d be dressed, albeit provocatively. She’d be here to be shown off, not shared—in any way.

  Adam sighed. Making Beth aware of his personal interest in her was a risk but it was one he was prepared to take. After all, wasn’t his old regiment’s motto, “Who dares, wins”?

  “Well?”

  Dan’s voice drew him back to the present from thoughts of a possible future. The sub his friend had been with was joined by a couple of her giggling friends and was clearly very satisfied by the time spent with Sir Daniel, if the pink glow of her backside was anything to go by.

  “Well what?” Adam feigned more interest in his glass of Scotch than was strictly warranted.

  “Have you decided what you’re going to do about Beth?”

  “How did you know I was thinking about her?”

  Dan sighed and rolled hi
s eyes. “How long have we known each other? Exactly. It’s in your face, Adam. And I hope that,” he glanced in the direction of Adam’s drink, “means you’ve already played?”

  Adam shook his head. “Dan, something happened today and I need to work out the best way to take things forward.”

  His friend took a step back, eyebrows raised. “Now you’re intriguing me. Is this to do with Beth?”

  Adam nodded. The amber fluid in the glass he held reminded him of the highlights in Beth’s hair.

  “Wanna talk?”

  The darker of the two men raised an amused eyebrow—Dan, getting all touchy-feely? No wonder he was looking in the opposite direction, as if pretending that someone else had uttered the two words. “Shut the fuck up, Dan,” he said without a hint of animosity. “I’ll deal with it.”

  “So are you going to train her or fire her?” The blond man’s voice was deadly serious and so was Adam’s when he responded.

  “I’m going to do the only thing I can to resolve this.”

  * * * * *

  It was gone two in the morning when Adam returned to his apartment. He’d left Dan at the club enjoying yet another scene with another willing sub. He went straight to the bedroom, shed his clothes and headed for the shower.

  The hot water felt good hammering down on his tired body. It had been a long day. He’d been in the office earlier than usual for the conference call with Japan, spent another day around the woman who gave him a hard-on just by breathing and found out that there was a chance that she was a sub-in-waiting. More than enough for one day.

  Dry now, he padded back into the dark bedroom to look out over the city from his refuge on one of the upper floors of the exclusive block. She was out there, somewhere in all those twinkling lights. He wondered what she was doing. Sleeping, probably. If she’d been in his bed sleeping was the last thing she’d be doing.

  He put a hand around his painfully hard erection and began to masturbate, the other hand on the wall braced for support. This had been his only release for the last six months and it looked like tonight was going to be no different.

  Then his hand stilled. Were the mechanics of a physical orgasm going to do it for him this time?

  Adam found himself thinking back to the time when he’d discovered that he was a natural Dominant. He and Dan had been in the States on a training mission with their U.S. counterparts and while on a forty-eight-hour leave, they’d discovered the club that had changed their lives. Gone were their preconceptions of BDSM being all about kinky sex—it didn’t even have to include sex at all, yet it could also be a whole lifestyle.

  Over time he and Dan had completed the training and become masters of the art. Adam learned that he wasn’t into the lifestyle aspects of D/s—his preference was for sexual Domination when it came to his personal life, although he had also found a great deal of satisfaction in training subs who were looking to lead a submissive lifestyle.

  Adam loved women—the way they smelled, the way they tasted, the way they felt, all the glorious textures of the human female body—and he could say with confidence that every woman with whom he’d enjoyed any kind of D/s relationship, he’d left happy and fulfilled…except one and that had been his ex-wife.

  By the time she’d gotten around to yelling at him about his filthy perversion, the love had long gone and her words hadn’t been able to wound the way she’d intended. He blamed himself. He should have told her about his preferences when it looked like their relationship was getting serious, long before marriage was on the radar.

  He’d just understood that he was never going to be able to help her and the only thing he could do for her was let her go. It hadn’t stopped her taking everything she could get her claws on—but the divorce, once declared absolute, was just that. Absolute. He had no idea where she’d gone or with whom and by then he hadn’t cared about either.

  Adam dropped onto the massive bed. Beth. Something primitive stirred inside him. He pictured her lying face down on this bed, her beautiful head hanging over the end, pillows under her belly and hips so that she was in the perfect position for him to take her. She was restrained of course and begging her Dom to fuck her.

  Christ, Dan was right—she was perfect sub material. His perfect sub.

  And if she did see herself as the green-eyed female protagonist she’d written about…if she had a secret desire to submit to a Dom…would she really want to make that fantasy a reality? Fantasizing about D/s relationships was one thing but the reality of them was a whole different prospect. Hell, even he was still learning about Domination and submission and about himself.

  Adam rolled over onto his stomach, trapping his erection between his belly and the bed. His muscular buttocks clenched, fighting the urge to move as if she were under him.

  How could he get her to the apartment? Wine her and dine her, bring her back here and say, “Oh by the way, Beth, I’m a Dom and I want to own you, body and soul.”

  Yeah, that’d work. The thought dripped sarcasm. Even if she really had submissive tendencies, an approach like that would probably still scare her off. With his thoughts going in unproductive circles, eventually Adam fell asleep, overcome by mental exhaustion.

  It was a pity it wouldn’t last.

  Chapter Two

  On Monday morning—after a weekend that felt much shorter than usual—Beth arrived in the office to find a message from her employer, informing her that he was going to be in Amsterdam for a few days and would be back in the office on Thursday. Part of her was relieved but it was really just delaying the inevitable—she’d still have to face him on his return.

  The next part of the message caused her eyebrows to rise in disbelief—she was to close the office for three days, give everyone paid time off and hand the office keys to Dan Chesterfield so that he could perform a thorough security sweep.

  By ten o’clock the offices were deserted, save for Beth. She was just waiting for Dan and his crew to arrive so that she could hand over the keys as instructed and then she too could go and make the most of the unexpected break.

  “Good morning, Beth!” Dan breezed into the office, his usual tsunami-like charm offensive sweeping all before him. “Good weekend?”

  “Yes, thank you, Mr. Chesterfield. I certainly wasn’t expecting Mr. Granger’s message when I arrived this morning.”

  Dan perched a hip on the corner of her desk, looking very masculine and it had to be said, attractive in his formal business suit. He gave a sarcastic snort. “You know what the old man’s like. Once he gets an idea in his head, he has to do something about it and we all have to jump.”

  She had to agree—her employer did like getting his own way. That was one of the traits that made him an ideal model for her fantasy Dom.

  Ten minutes later Beth had completed a final check of the offices and returned to Reception, where Dan Chesterfield was waiting for her.

  “Do we have the all-clear, sweetheart?”

  “I believe so, Mr. Chesterfield,” Beth replied, almost on a sigh. She held up her hand. In the palm rested the keys to the offices, the safes and the climate-controlled vault. Her eyes, fixed on the keys, became very serious. “I’ve been responsible for these keys for three years. It’s not a responsibility I give up lightly.”

  “Worry not, my angel,” he said blithely, plucking the bunch of keys from her hand. “You can leave everything in my hands. Go and treat yourself to some retail therapy,” he suggested with a playful wink.

  Beth shot him a look, one eyebrow raised. Men! They never did grow up. Even Adam had been known to throw his toys out of the pram occasionally, in the adult male version of a tantrum that would have done a four-year-old proud.

  “Thank you, Mr. Chesterfield.” She fixed her gaze on his way-too-handsome face, trying to make that gaze as steely as possible. “Just you make sure you look after this place, or I’ll—“

  “You’ll what, dear Beth?” he prompted, not bothering to hide his amusement at the prospect of a threat fr
om a woman at least four inches shorter—and that was with heels on—and conservatively, a hundred pounds lighter than him.

  “I’m not sure, but I’ll do my best to make it dire!” she promised. “Good day, Mr. Chesterfield.”

  Dan watched her leave, admiring the feminine grace she displayed so naturally and considering what he’d just learned about Beth Harrison. A woman who didn’t give up responsibility very easily—perhaps that was the challenge that would convince his friend to take action.

  With a thoughtful look on his face, Dan checked the time—his crew would be arriving in a few minutes but there was time for a quick phone call to a man who was in Oxfordshire rather than Amsterdam, as he’d claimed.

  “Adam? Beth’s just gone. You know, she really is too lovely to take her responsibilities so seriously all the time—you need to do something about it. What? You are? About fucking time! I’d ask you if you were planning to share her, but I’m kind of attached to my family jewels.”

  At the end of the call Dan pocketed his phone, his mouth curving into a very satisfied grin. He’d helped Adam set up the playroom at his house in Oxfordshire. If only Beth knew what was awaiting her…

  Adam ended the call, inwardly digesting what his friend had told him.

  He’d spent the weekend obsessing about Beth, trying to figure out the best way to take their relationship from a purely business footing to a more personal one. By midnight on Sunday he had decided that he needed a few days’ distance from his assistant to ensure that he came to a sensible and workable decision. The fictitious trip to Amsterdam presented the ideal camouflage.

  He also needed to make sure that the playroom was ready for her. It would be very easy to create a playroom just like the club but he’d wanted something modern and clean, where the dark intimacy was created not by the décor but by the lighting, the drapes and the equipment. With Dan’s input, he’d achieved that.