(Tall, Dark & Handsome #2 (Sexpert #2))
By JA Huss & Johnathan McClain
Publication date: October 30th 2018
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance
I’m a just an erotic woman who likes control.
And edgy sex.
And hard men.
At the same time.
So starting an outreach class at the TDH community center to teach other women how to put the dom in dominatrix was inevitable. Even if I was only doing it to use my boss, Pierce, as my submissive example and pay him back for humiliating me in front of the whole world last summer.
I regret what I did to Myrtle. She’s the best assistant I’ve ever had and I’ll play along—for now—because I want to make things right. But... come on. Me? A submissive? Ha. Myrtle Rothschild might have the upper hand at the moment… but I’m bringing my A-game. I’m gonna take back control.
She can wear her hot, thigh-high latex boots. She can crack that whip all she wants. Hell, I’ll even let her leave marks.
But I’m about to school Ms. Rothschild in the art of who’s the boss.
And she’s about to get Pierce-d.
“This contract,” she says, placing it back on my desk and splaying her hand out across it, “is your key to being forgiven. You have asked what you can do that will make me forget and forgive what happened?” She points one long red nail down at the piece of paper. “The answer is on this page.”
I shake my head slightly and then look around the room to find the goddamn hidden cameras. Because I feel completely confident that I’m being punked.
“Okay,” I say, slowly. “May I see it? Please?”
I really draw out the please. I want to make it a sincere question. I really do. I just don’t know how one does that. Oh, well.
She gets a glint in her eye and then pushes the paper to the edge of the desk. My desk. I’m not sure how the tables got turned with her sitting in the boss’s chair and me asking her questions that conclude with ‘please,’ but here we are.
I take the paper up, involuntarily making a smacking sound with my teeth and tongue as I do, and read. Here is what I see:
In consideration of injurious wrongs committed against one Myrtle Astrid Rothschild as perpetrated by one Pierce Constantine Chevalier…
I look away from the page to glance at Myrtle, who gives me a ‘go on’ look.
Wrongs that so damaged her reputation and standing as to cause permanent harm…
“Permanent harm? I gave you a promotion and a raise! How the fuck—”
“Keep reading,” she says.
I turn my attention back to the page once more.
Mr. Chevalier agrees to make psychic reparations (“psychic reparations?”) in the form of personal subjugation at the hands of Ms. Rothschild.
“What. The. Fuck?”
She nods. “Go on.”
And whereas Ms. Rothschild’s humiliation was a public affair, with respect to Mr. Chevalier’s own public profile, Ms. Rothschild agrees to maintain silence in regard to all activities executed in the privacy of Ms. Rothschild’s… “Dungeon? What the fuck are you—?”
She rolls her index finger in a ‘keep reading’ gesture.
In exchange for his agreement to assume the role of SUBMISSIVE TO MS. ROTHSCHILD…
“This is fucking insane. Okay? Let’s just… This is fucking insane.”
But, for whatever reason, I keep reading.
… Mr. Chevalier will be pardoned and forgiven for all injuries inflicted and wrongs committed and at the conclusion of the endeavor, Ms. Rothschild agrees to never speak of it again. Agreed to and signed…
I glance over the rest of the half-baked legalese, feeling my eyes grow wider with every word I read, and finally I place the paper back on the desk, take a deep breath, and say as calmly as I can, “Are you out of your fucking mind? What the fuck is this?”
From over my shoulder, I hear the mousy voice of Valerie say, “Sir?”
“Val—What do you want?”
“Did you call for me?”
“No! I didn’t! Will you please get the hell out?”
She nods her head like she’s bowing in a Japanese tea house and ducks away. When I look back at Myrtle she’s sporting a full-on Cheshire Cat grin.
“What,” I begin, slowly, “the fuck is this?”
“Your penance,” she says. “You say you want forgiveness? You want to pay penance? Here’s your chance. I look at it like this,” she says, standing and rounding the desk to face me directly. “You publicly humiliated me.” I find myself backing up as she walks toward me, even though I don’t mean to. “You want to find a way for me to forgive you.” I’m bumping into my throne now. “I want to be able to feel like we’re even.” I fall into the seat, as she leans over me and whispers in my ear. “And this is a way for me to get what I want, you to get what you want, and nobody. Ever. Has. To know. And gee, won’t that be nice?”
Her hot breath on my ear causes my dick to jump. Which takes me by surprise and causes me to jump. I leap out of the seat and march past her.
“You’re fuckin’ bonkers, lady. You know that? You’re out of your goddamn tête!”
She just lowers her chin and smirks. Again. “Pierce… honestly? I feel like you’re getting off easy. I’m offering to sign a legally binding contract that says no one will find out about what happens between us. That’s a far greater courtesy than you gave me.”
“Jesus Christ. You really think you are Christian Grey, don’t you?”
“Sure as fuck seems like it! I mean, this idea of yours is as bizarre, incoherent, ludicrous, and derivative as that Fifty Shades shit!”
“You took this idea from that book, and the woman who wrote it took the idea from those Twilight books, didn’t she?”
“You really read Fifty Shades?”
“Everybody read Fifty Shades!”
This is insane. I find myself breathing heavily, in and out, through my nose. Stalking my office like a panther. Or a caged tiger. Or maybe a cheetah. I dunno which animal I feel like I am exactly, but it’s something dangerous and supple. That I feel certain of.
And then, quite suddenly, I hear Andrew’s voice in my head. Telling me I need to prostrate myself. To lay myself at Myrtle’s feet. If that’s what I want. If I want her to forgive me. If I want to genuinely and truly apologize and make it right.
And then I hear my father’s voice telling me to never supplicate myself. To maintain my power at all times. To always retain my dominance. And those two voices, competing in my brain, are giving me a fucking headache.
I turn to say something to her. I don’t know what exactly. Just something. To yell or to… I dunno. But when I spin and see her standing there…
I’ve known her for seven years. For seven years she has been my one constant. The most important woman in my life. I’ve not had another woman enter my world for more than a few weeks. At most. But Myrtle has remained.
And she still remains. She doesn’t have to be here. I’d like to pretend that it’s the money and the promotion, but I don’t think she cares about those things. Not really. I just don’t think it’s a guiding force for her.
I know what is. I think I’ve always known.
It’s her sense of self. Her sense of ownership over who she is. Pride in the person that she wants to be and that she unashamedly shows the world.
And I stripped her of that. I tore that from her and no amount of money or promotions or even saying I’m sorry can make up for it. Can repay it.
She is my rock. Like Andrew likes to talk about the mountains he climbs as sturdy, reliable, unshakable… that’s what Myrtle is to me.
Fuck. Is this what people mean when they talk about having a “conscience?” Because if so, this blows.
I breeze past her to the desk. I look at the paper there. Words jump off the page at me: Dominant. Submissive. Safe word. Ball gag.
Ball gag? Oh, Pierce, what the fuck are you doing?
Shit. I dunno. But I’m doing it.
I pat my jacket. I normally have one on me, but I don’t just at present. And so, without looking back, I thrust my hand out behind me and say to Myrtle…
“Gimme a pen.”
Two accomplished writers come together to create unforgettable sexy romance. JA Huss is the New York Times bestselling author of 321 and has been on the USA Today bestsellers list eighteen times. Johnathan McClain is a veteran actor and writer whose work, either performed or written, is probably airing on at least one of the channels on your television right now. You can contact them on their website www.hussmcclain.com or find them at their social links below.
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