Breaking The Mold Page 7

  Time to unravel him.

  “I think your new car is perfect for you; it’s obnoxious and sexy. But under that hood, a whole angry fire burns. Just like deep in you.” I stared at him as I finished my beer. “You’re forgetting; I’ve watched you here since you were a wee twenty-two. I know more about you than you’re willing to admit. I can give you what you need, Graves. Think I’m wrong? Step into a dungeon cell with me for an hour, and I will make you doubt everything you think you know.”

  “Fuck you, Paul.”

  “Hey, if it makes it easier, you can even call me ‘daddy.’”

  Anthony stood, his chest heaved, and the fire in his eyes burned brightly. This would be the best time to get him in the dungeon. Chain him up and let him fight with himself. He had a lot of anger in him...a lot for me to beat out of him. It would truly help him.

  “Anth.”

  The good samaritan, Matthew Reid, appeared. It’s no fucking wonder he’s best friends with Everett too. Everett and the good Dr. Reid are such perfect assholes. But not Graves. Graves is far from perfect. He has holes, chips and stress fractures on top of one angry, dark soul. And he was ablaze now.

  “Warren, give me a beer and another Coke,” Matt stood behind the barstools that separated Anthony from me.

  Matt picked up the glass of Coke and pushed it into Anthony’s hands and then picked up his beer bottle.

  “Let’s take our drinks outside, Anth,” Matt said as he turned his fucking back to me. “What’s that all about?”

  “It’s nothing,” Anthony said.

  The two headed toward the patio as my eyes followed them. The doctor may have prevented Anthony from taking a swing at me and starting a physical fight, but I ignited a mental firestorm in the Prince of Irons. But hell, I would have loved for the prince to take a swing.

  After they were out of my sight, I turned back around and picked up my beer bottle, hoping I had some left. And fucking Blake was leaning on the bar facing me. I raised my eyebrows at him.

  “What? I was telling him that I thought his car was nice.”

  Blake sat down next to me as Warren brought over his glass of whiskey. I was trying to calm myself down because there was no place for anger in this club. As I tried to just sit there quietly, Blake’s words instantly reminded me of my focus.

  “How is Amy? Did she enjoy her first bondage scene?”

  Amy.

  I felt the kick in my stomach at the mention of her name.

  “She is good, and she did enjoy the scene. A few nights ago, she had a small bout of sub drop. She called me in the night needing reassurance. I stayed on the phone with her until I felt she was doing better. I hated hearing her like that. I wanted to drive over to her.” I looked up at Blake. “Kind of crazy, huh?” I asked my best friend at one time.

  “Ah, well, love makes one do things they normally wouldn’t. It looked like a positive scene for her.” I smiled as Blake took a sip from his glass. “It’s a shame that your concentration and focus was pulled into another dungeon cell.”

  Fucking Blake. I knew he saw me looking in Anthony and Everett’s cell at their scene. I tried shifting blame even though I knew it probably wasn’t going to work.

  “If he wasn’t so loud when he comes, perhaps those around him can concentrate on their scenes,” I said as confidently as I could.

  And as expected, Blake laughed. He shook his head and then brought the glass to his lips again.

  “That’s very mature of an experienced Dom to say,” Blake sarcastically jabbed.

  We both knew it was a weak attempt. Fucker comes over here to rattle me. It wasn’t going to work. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his two subs, Kelsie and Noah, cleaning a small area.

  “How do you prevent Kelsie and Noah from fucking?” I said in hopes of rattling his cage.

  “They don’t fuck. They’re like brother and sister,” Blake calmly said and turned his attention to the pair.

  “Brothers and sisters can fuck,” I commented.

  “Not in my house,” Blake quickly added. “And cut the crap, I know what you’re doing, and you should stop before you embarrass yourself.”

  I continued to look at Noah. He was approaching thirty and was a sturdy framed young man. Noah was built well and looked like he could withstand a lot. He wasn’t built like Graves, though he takes a heavy hand from Blake’s wife. I’ve witnessed it before and Noah takes it well. He’s obedient and waits to be told when it’s done.

  Graves was the type that wouldn’t take it well. At least, not in the beginning. Not until he understood what it would do for him. He’s the type that would fight when struck. And fuck, I want to see that fire and feel it in my hands as he struggles.

  “Are you and Amy exclusive?”

  “Sexually, yes,” I was proud to report. “Scene-wise, she understands that I may sometimes have needs that she can’t meet yet.”

  “Heavy scenes.”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s why you’re here tonight?”

  I immediately took offense. He made it sound like he didn’t even want me here. I loved Irons and needed this club.

  “I pay my dues here just like every other member. And yeah, I need a scene. I have a lot built up.”

  Blake studied me for a moment and then glanced at the two young female subs kneeling in the unattached sub area. I’d break those girls being in the mood that I was in, and I knew that Blake detected it as well.

  “Tell me, if you could scene with anyone tonight, who would you pick?”

  My head screamed Anthony. I needed to play rough and with someone who could take it. But admitting that to Blake probably wouldn’t be wise.

  But, maybe Blake and I could still patch up our friendship. We were once best friends. I decided to test the water.

  “A guy. I need to play rough and be heavy-handed.” I gestured at the two girls behind me. “It’d be too much for them.”

  “Those girls are mentally as tough as nails. But yes, I think the physical session you’re seeking would be a bit much for them.”

  I glanced over Blake’s shoulders in the direction of muffled laughter. Anthony’s laughter. He stood, holding some sub’s arms above her head while she blew him.

  I swallowed hard and tried to hide whatever the hell it was that I was feeling. When I looked up again, Blake was staring at me. He knew I was watching Anthony.

  “A scene with that man isn’t in the stars, Paul,” he said firmly.

  Anger boiled in my veins. Blake didn’t know! If I tried to get Anthony to understand then maybe, just maybe, I could get him to agree to let me carry out the kind of session I know he needs.

  “Why are you so caught up in coddling him, Blake? You’ve been doing it for years.”

  He answered my question with one of his own.

  “Why are you so caught up in wanting to harm him?”

  I closed my jaw tightly to prevent anything from coming out of my mouth. Harm? I wanted to scream at Blake. He didn’t get it; by teaching him how I learned, through actual experience, it would help him. Anthony kept a dark side hidden, and I could see hints of it. But Blake refused to see it.

  “He should have had a chance to learn through experience—”

  Blake cut me off as he turned to face me.

  “I remember your idea of teaching him during the mentoring weekend years ago. Your idea was dangerous and flawed. You showed everyone how to make a scene unsafe right off the bat. That leads to harming someone.” He finished his whiskey and stood. “Intentional or not.”

  I stared at my empty beer bottle and thought back to that day. I had my share of regrets from that scene. I didn’t do what I should have. But that’s when I caught my first solid confirmation that there was a dark soul lurking behind Anthony’s calm demeanor.

  “I would recommend that you exercise caution when negotiating a scene tonight, Paul.”

  I looked up and met his hard stare before he walked away. It was his way of reminding me to be min
dful of my mood when playing. I knew this. I knew better than to get in a stall while angry.

  “Warren, another beer.”

  I shook my empty bottle in the air and Warren brought over another cold one.

  “This is number two,” Warren added.

  I nodded at him. Blake liked the limit rule of two in the club. I understood this was for the safety of everyone. Too much liquor and consent starts coming easier and faster...which could lead to problems for Blake and the club. No one wanted problems for the club…it meant too much to all of the members.

  After I finished my beer, I went home. I sent Amy the text and tossed the phone on the bed before getting ready for bed. It wasn’t even 11:00 p.m. yet.

  J.P.: I’m home, princess.

  I tossed and turned for hours, unable to shake the constant replay of events at Irons tonight. Blake was under my skin, as was the memory of the fire burning brightly in Anthony’s eyes.

  I was the match, and he was the dry brush. It was so fucking easy setting him on fire tonight. He softened some when I reminded him that I could help him with his pain. He obviously still feels it even though his dad died over ten years ago.

  Maybe he would think about my invitation to step into a cell with me. Giving him physical pain would help remove the emotional pain. I know he tried it before with some other fuck in San Francisco. He should have let me do it.

  There’s still a chance of it…if I handle it the right way.

  Ideas ran around in my head until I felt that I had it in place. I sat up in bed, turned the light on and reached for my tablet. Opening up a blank email, I quickly typed out his email address to his Irons account. In the subject line I put “About Tonight,” and began typing.

  Graves,

  I’m sorry if I made you angry tonight. It wasn’t my intention. Consider letting me help you with those aches and pains that aren’t going away. I can help if you let me. No one has to know. Think about it.

  Paul

  I read it a few times. It was a good email. It was kind of an apology; at least, it was the kind to get him to think I was sorry, which is what I wanted. And it also lit another spark to remind him that I could help him. I clicked the option that would alert me when he reads it, that way I’d know to anticipate a response.

  Chapter Seven

  July 2011

  Amy

  “How’s the romantic sadist and more importantly, how is the book blurb?” Samantha asked me.

  Samantha finally had me on the phone. I had been dodging Samantha’s phone calls for a few days since my return for a few reasons. The main one being that I only had a few lines to the book blurb written. And they were just notes of ideas. There was nothing solid there.

  My other reason for avoiding the voice to voice interaction was because I knew she was going to ask me about my first scene. I loved it, but it seemed so intimate to me. There was something about the way I felt about it that made me want to keep it between us.

  “I’m working on it,” I said.

  “Aims, you’ve been working on this blurb for a while. You were supposed to have it done before your most recent jaunt to Vegas. That didn’t happen. Then you promised you’d do it while you were there, which also didn’t happen. You’ve been back a week, and we still don’t have the book blurb. How long are you planning to work on it?”

  I could hear the frustration in her voice. I understood that without the blurb certain things were at a standstill. I stared at the screen on my laptop and at the several tabs I had open. All of them had articles on bondage or pictures of different restraints.

  J.P. sends me some articles each day on bondage along with some pictures. Then in the evenings, we discuss the articles and he always gives me an opportunity to ask questions. I now eagerly await his emails each morning with the articles. Out of the four or five pictures he sends me each day we discuss which picture that I’d like to experience.

  “Amy, are you listening?” Samantha asked.

  I sat up straight in my chair and minimized my tabs then pulled up the pathetic looking book blurb document.

  “Yes. I’m on it. You’ll have the book blurb by this evening,” I promised.

  There was a long pause, and I detected we were shifting from business concerns to personal concerns. And I really wasn’t ready to venture there.

  “Amy—”

  “I said you’d have the book description this evening. I will get it done. Words just haven’t come easily for me regarding it yet.”

  “I know, and that’s why I’m a little concerned.”

  Her parent tone ticked me off, and I needed to head off the reprimanding conversation. I wasn’t going to allow her to make me feel guilty for visiting J.P.

  “Seriously? You know, I’m actually writing a book. I’ve been adding to it each day. So why are you concerned?”

  “Your focus is slipping.”

  She was wrong…kind of.

  “You’ll have it tonight. Now I’m getting off the phone to go write.”

  I sent J.P. a text letting him know I would be away from my phone for a while. We always tried letting one another know if we’d be away from our phones, that way the other one wouldn’t worry. At the beginning of each week, J.P. gave me his work schedule so I knew during the work hours, he was unavailable. Looking at the clock, I knew that he was probably getting ready for work.

  Amy: Just a heads up, I’m going to keep my phone in another room for a while so I can get this blurb done.

  J.P.: Thanks for the info, princess. Work hard and get your stuff done and tonight we’ll have a dirty phone session.

  Why do his texts make me tingle? I loved his naughty, promising texts. They made me want him more and miss him terribly.

  Amy: Ugh, now I don’t even want to work. How can I concentrate? Now I’ll just think about that all day.

  J.P.: Good. I want you to think about it all day. I want your clit swollen and waiting to be touched. Did you come this morning like a good girl?

  Amy: Yes. Morning and night, just like you’ve asked.

  J.P.: Do you have five minutes to spare for a quick call?

  Amy: Yes!

  My heartbeat began to pick up as I anticipated his call. When my phone rang in my hands moments later, I smiled and answered.

  “Princess, you have to be a good girl and work on your book description and writing today.”

  “I know, and I will. I just get so excited thinking about our naughty phone call tonight and what you might have me do.”

  J.P.’s gentle laughter came through the phone instantly making me smile.

  “Are you in your writing room?”

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “Prop your phone up and switch over to Facetime. Take your shirt and bra off, princess.”

  His voice was so sexy when he would tell me what to do. God, it’s such a turn on. I quickly complied and smiled bashfully when his face came into view. He looked so handsome. His beard was trimmed close to his face, and I could see the crisp collar of his dress shirt for work. He smiled when he saw me and then his eyes went straight down to look at my bare chest.

  “Nice, princess, those nipples are begging for attention. Thumb and index finger, Amy. Pinch them. Make sure I can see,” he instructed.

  I sat up straighter and pinched them for him.

  “Ah, harder. I called so I could hear your sweet voice cry out and make me come.”

  J.P. tilted his phone downward so I could see his pants undone and semi-hard cock in his hand. The sight of that sent a throbbing sensation between my legs. Damn, he was sexy. He left his phone there so I could watch him stroke himself. That’s an event I could sit and watch him do and never get bored.

  “Princess, you won’t get to see the white stuff until I hear you. Pinch those nipples hard, now.”

  He liked to hear me in discomfort and pain, but he’s not mean about it. It’s just the way he was. I pinched myself a little harder and then finally as hard as I could until I whined and yelp
ed.

  “That’s my naughty little princess. Look what you did, sweetheart.”

  On the screen, I saw him come. He looked like he was in his bathroom, so I’m gathering that it landed on his counter. His face came into view and his cheeks looked flushed. J.P. smiled and raised his eyebrows at me.

  “Well, now that was some unexpected fun this morning before work.”

  J.P. kept his phone propped up against the mirror in the bathroom so I could watch him take a washcloth to his cock before he tucked it inside his pants. Watching him clean and gather himself was intimate to me and I felt guilty for watching.

  “Now, princess,” he said as he washed his hands and looked at himself in the mirror. “I’m going to work, and you’re putting your phone out of sight and getting to work.”

  I nodded as he picked the phone up and walked through his house with me to the garage. I got in the car with him and then we said our goodbyes for now.

  “Love you, princess. Now be a good girl and go work…or else.”

  “Or else what…Sir?”

  J.P. laughed.

  “My dear Amy, ‘or else’ is for me to know and for you to see if you’re brave enough to find out.”

  Oh. I swallowed hard, and instantly my mind drew a blank as to what to say. God, I wanted to be what he needed.

  “I’m brave,” I said.

  My voice failed to sound brave and confident, and J.P. picked up on it and soon he was laughing again.

  “We’ll see, princess. I’m going to work now, and so are you.”

  “Have a great day, my romantic sadist.”

  “You too, my brave little princess.”

  When I got off the phone, I put my bra and shirt back on and settled down to focus on the book description for Dark Spell.