Enraptured Read online

  “Sorry, Marc, but she deserved to know,” Lauren said again.

  Roman nodded. “Well, do you feel better now, Jessica, now that you know?”

  “I do,” she said. “I feel a lot better, actually. Thank you.” She looked down at the check in her hand. “Sir, I think you made a mistake—this is for too much.”

  “I don’t make mistakes like that,” Roman said. “The club wasn’t paying you enough if you couldn’t afford to eat the food you sold. I’ve given you a raise.”

  “Well, when you put it like that,” Jessica said, “thank you, very much.”

  Elisabeth was still standing by the fridge, holding the pitcher of orange juice in one hand. “Jessica, may I speak with you please?”

  Jessica looked at her in surprise, having almost forgotten she was there. Was this wrong? Did she fail some sort of test? “Sure,” she said, and set the check on the granite countertop, wondered if she should leave it there, then picked it up again. There was nowhere to put it. “I need to go get my clothes from the cabana anyway.”

  “Good, you can join me for some juice.” Elisabeth followed her out of the kitchen.

  Jessica held the check in her hand and quickly folded it so the obscenely large number on it was hidden. Did Elisabeth know about tributes? Or did she think that Jessica had just done something bad?

  “Honey, please don’t take this the wrong way,” Elisabeth said, and Jessica felt her stomach churn. That was the worst way to start off a conversation.

  “Okay.” She headed toward the cabana, feeling the need to clothe herself. She’d had enough of being nearly naked for the day.

  “I was like you, broker than you, probably, when I met Trevor,” Elisabeth said, closing the cabana door behind them. Her huge diamond ring flashed on her hand. “I know firsthand how easy it is to get blinded by the billionaire lifestyle. These guys throw around money like it’s nothing. When I complained to Trevor about that, he gave me two million to donate to the charity of my choice.”

  Jessica’s jaw dropped. “Two million dollars?” That kind of money was unthinkable to her.

  “Yeah. So I think you can understand that however many zeros are on the check Roman just handed you, it’s not a big deal to him.”

  “Okay,” Jessica said. “So if it’s no big deal, that’s good, right?”

  “No. Because it is a big deal to you. I can see it in your eyes.” Elisabeth handed Jessica her sundress, and she quickly pulled it on over her suit.

  “I’m not after anyone’s money, Elisabeth. I mean that. I don’t know how to make you believe that, but it’s true,” Jessica whispered. “I feel weird about this whole thing.”

  “You feel weird about it because you just sold yourself for—” Elisabeth grabbed the check from Jessica’s fist. The move surprised her so much that she just let the piece of paper go without a word. “For forty thousand dollars. You’ve sold yourself.”

  “It didn’t sound like I was selling myself when we were all in the kitchen,” Jessica said, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. “Lauren gave me a hug and everything.”

  “I’m telling you this for your own good. Don’t shoot the messenger,” Elisabeth said, and handed her back the check. “Look, Roman is used to completely dominating women. I’ve been trained by him. I know his methods. Are you willing to be in debt to Roman? Roman, not Lauren. Even if he acts like it’s a gift and not a debt?”

  “Oh my God,” Jessica said, and sat down on the teak stool in the changing room. “I don’t know. I don’t want to be in debt to anyone.”

  “Then you shouldn’t accept his money. Just go to work at the club and see Lauren when your schedule allows.”

  “But that’s the thing, my schedule doesn’t allow that.” Jessica looked at the check in her hand, at the money that could change everything for her. “I’m skipping sleep to be here today, and I have to work tonight. I can’t do that all the time, I’ll turn into a zombie.”

  “Do what you want to do.” Elisabeth stood and picked the orange juice back up. “Just go into this with open eyes, that’s all I ask. Don’t think this isn’t going to obligate you to Roman. Sooner or later, he’s going to find a way to get you to pay him back.”

  “That wouldn’t be so bad,” Jessica said. “Roman’s a great guy.”

  “Well, I’ve never heard him described that way by anyone who doesn’t know him,” Elisabeth chuckled. “So maybe you know him better than I thought. Just . . . be careful. That’s all.”

  “I will.”

  Elisabeth left the cabana, leaving Jessica alone to think about what had just happened. But the walls were thin, and she could easily hear what Elisabeth murmured on her way out the door.

  “Hope you like to be tortured.”

  Jessica put her head between her knees, and breathed.

  Chapter Five

  Roman sat alone in his living room, grateful for the calm after everyone had gone home.

  It had been an interesting party. The guest of honor had really done an outstanding job.

  Jessica looked incredible lying over Mistress Lauren’s lap, getting that spanking. Her moans and little kicks of her naked legs had been so sweet. He had to experience that for himself. Lauren clearly could tell he was interested, or she wouldn’t have suggested he spank her new sub.

  But why had Jessica declined? She had said, quite distinctly, “Don’t let Roman spank me.”

  Roman groaned. Maybe he’d freaked her out by telling her he was a sadist. But he couldn’t help that, it was part of him. Still, anyone who’d been spanked by him—and there were a lot out there—would agree that he never pushed them past what they could take. Women rarely safeworded with him, because he carefully monitored their reactions to make sure they were having as exquisite an experience as he was.

  Still, her rejection stung. But why? She was just a girl. A silly, pretty girl. And way too young for him, surely.

  And yet . . . she’d agreed to come back to his house. She’d accepted his money, a substantial sum. Well, to her at least. So she was interested, in BDSM if not in him.

  But if Lauren trained Jessica under his own roof, in his dungeon . . . then he’d have plenty of chances to find out how kinky she really was. And maybe Lauren would throw him a bone and offer Jessica the opportunity to be taken in hand by him at another time.

  The image of Jessica, sweet Jessica, bound, naked, and cuffed to the wall of his dungeon flashed through his mind. His mansion was the epitome of modern luxury and design, but the dungeon was a purposeful nod to an older era. An era where real dungeons existed, and not those cheerfully called “playrooms” by the kinky-lite set. Yes, he went to his dungeon to play. But it was also the heart of his home.

  It was where he’d fallen for Elisabeth.

  No. Don’t think about her. No need to think about her. That’s over.

  Besides, Jessica was a born submissive. She just needed to be trained. The way she innocently discovered her own wet pussy after that spanking, his heart about stopped. She was going to be able to work on that, to draw out more of her own arousal and find out exactly what got her hot.

  Roman just wished he could be the one to show her, instead of Lauren.

  He looked up at the television, which played an old I Love Lucy episode. He liked I Love Lucy, specifically the episodes where Ricky spanked her. There were a few, and even more where he threatened it. Too bad for Ricky that Lucy wasn’t more like Jessica, ever eager to please.

  Fuck. His cock swelled in his pants. He’d had an erection earlier and never gotten relief, and now that it was back, his balls ached with need.

  None of his staff stayed in the evenings after dinner, so he laid his head back on the black leather sofa and turned off the TV with the remote. Sliding his hand to his pants, he quickly unbuttoned them, unzipped the fly and ran his fingers over his length.

 
He imagined Jessica kneeling before him, her hands tied behind her back. If he had her there, tied like that, he’d hold her coconut-scented blonde hair and ask her to open her mouth. When her pretty pink lips parted, he’d thrust inside her mouth, letting her suck him. If she didn’t take all of him, he’d push forward, holding her head still until she relaxed her throat enough to let him in.

  He imagined her gagging, tears coming to her eyes. He imagined pulling out, caressing her cheek, and hearing her say . . .

  “More, please, sir, I need more.”

  Roman came hard. His breathing slowed after a moment of desperate panting, and he lifted his head, his eyes still closed. In his mind, Jessica was there, smiling at him.

  Jessica couldn’t sleep, and she had to be at work in an hour. No, wait. She didn’t. She could start sleeping at night again, like a normal person.

  The thought calmed her. She pulled the comforter off of her and raised the futon into a couch again.

  She’d better tell the club, though. Even if the owners knew already, her manager needed to hear from her. Pulling out her cell phone, she texted her manager and explained what happened. All of it, including that Roman Chase himself was covering her expenses for the rest of the year so she could train at his house. That was the truth, and the best excuse she could think of for not going to work at a BDSM club.

  Still, getting a message back that said, “Of course, don’t worry about it. Have fun and be safe,” surprised her. Not that it should. Who knew that Brooks Wild Chase owned the whole club? Certainly not her. Although it did sort of make sense now, why their booth was always kept empty and waiting for them, even if they didn’t show up for weeks at a time.

  Wow.

  Still, she was having second thoughts after that talk with Elisabeth. Jessica didn’t like the idea of being indebted to anyone. She’d never be able to pay back the money—the only thing she had to offer him in return for his generosity was herself. It was like Elisabeth had warned her. Whether she liked it or not, if she went through with this then she was effectively selling herself. But like Lauren said, the money wasn’t given as a loan. It was a gift, a tribute.

  Right?

  But Roman was a little terrifying. Gorgeous, yes. And definitely awesome. She loved how he was so stern to everyone and then seemed to lighten up a bit when he was around her. She made him laugh!

  Jessica shook her head, realizing she was smiling like an idiot just thinking about him. But when she’d actually been at his house, and Lauren asked her if Roman should spank her, she’d frozen. But not because she didn’t want to feel Roman’s hands on her. That turned her on, it did. It was worrying about looking stupid in front of him. She was so new to the whole scene, and it was her very first spanking. Maybe after she had some experience under her belt she’d feel more confident submitting to a Master like Roman.

  She should have let him spank her. Damn it. She’d missed out on a really great experience out of fear. He would have taken good care of her—she knew because at the club she’d watched him scene with other girls from her perch behind the bar.

  She had a clear view of the Saint Andrew’s Cross, and Roman loved to cuff women to it and whip them. They loved it too, they made that abundantly clear. Most of the girls Roman trained ended up with other Doms, though.

  Why? How could anyone train with Roman and not want to stay? If she’d been as lucky as Elisabeth, and had both Trevor Brooks and Roman Chase wanting to be her Dom, she’d have gone with Roman in a second.

  God, that hair of his! She loved how the long brown locks got into his face. It made him look like a rock star. He was way better than a rock star, though. But probably just as unattainable.

  Except . . . she was going to be at his house a lot for the next few months, it seemed. She’d have a chance to get to know him on another level, one that she’d never be able to reach by just drinking lemonade and eating cookies with him over the bar at WhipperSnapper.

  Jessica put her futon back down, since she was tired after all. And tomorrow would be a long, intense day if it was anything like she imagined.

  But when she imagined being in Roman’s dungeon with Mistress Lauren, she didn’t picture Lauren. No . . . she wanted Roman to train her. To watch her.

  That was the goal, then. To get Roman to want to train her. How could she pull that off, though, if she was supposed to be Lauren’s sub to Domme?

  I’ll just have to be the best sub I can be, and let Roman see for himself that he wants me. Unless . . . well, Roman liked to fix things, right? To help train untrainable subs?

  Maybe what Jessica should really do was come up with an issue that needed superior training, training that only Master Roman could provide.

  She giggled. No need to play games. She was new enough to the whole thing that she’d probably manage to screw it up all on her own, without having to try. It still didn’t make sense. Why her? Why would anyone, much less a man like Roman, want a college-dropout who not only knew next-to-nothing about BDSM, but was also a liar? Yeah. He was right when he’d said she needed to tell her parents she’d left NYU. But her job barely paid her rent—her parents were highly subsidizing her meager lifestyle with checks every month. If they found out she’d left school, she’d be cut off. Have to go home to Denver.

  And she really didn’t want to go home, as much as she loved her family. This was the first time in her life that she was on her own, and she wanted to prove to everyone, including herself, that she could do it. Not that she was really making it on her own if she relied on the Bank of Mom and Dad.

  This money that Roman had offered her was the way. She looked over at the check sitting on her bookshelf. Waiting to be deposited in her account. Forty grand, holy moly.

  She wouldn’t cash it just yet. Not until she wrapped her head around it. But as far as the BAD Boys were concerned, she’d accepted the money already, in return for spending time with them.

  It seemed like a strange dream, to be granted access to their glamorous playground. Jessica didn’t belong with them. How long until they figured that out?

  How long until Roman figured it out—until he realized that she wasn’t worthy of his time, much less his money?

  Her phone rang, the caller ID lighting up.

  “Hi Mistress Lauren,” she answered.

  “Were you sleeping, hon?” Lauren asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “I wanted to make sure you’re okay with going over to Roman’s tomorrow. Elisabeth called me and said you might have some concerns.”

  Jessica’s pulse quickened, and she took a breath to keep her voice steady. “No concerns. I promise.”

  The next day, Jessica and Lauren went by themselves to Roman’s house. Marc had to work, so it was just the two of them.

  And Roman.

  Jessica smiled when Roman answered the door. “Good morning, sir.”

  “Good morning, Jessica,” Roman said. “Good morning, Mistress Lauren. Please, make yourself at home.”

  Dark shadows lingered in every corner of the large foyer, and after the bright sun outside she could barely see inside the house. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. Why did Roman keep all of his curtains closed on such a beautiful day?

  The air-conditioning raised goose bumps along her bare arms. Or maybe that was just her nerves. Despite the friendly chitchat she and Lauren had on the drive up, Jessica still couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d taken on an obligation she wasn’t one hundred percent prepared to meet. Lauren was awesome. But she wanted to be Lauren’s friend, not her submissive.

  That wasn’t to say she wasn’t interested in learning more about submission. She was. But her thoughts kept returning to Roman last night as lay on her futon, worrying herself to sleep. Not Lauren.

  “Thanks for having us,” Jessica said to Roman, hoping to engage him in more conversation. More conver
sation to put off the inevitable—her first day of training.

  He smiled but didn’t answer, so she took his cue and kept quiet.

  Lauren took Jessica’s hand. “Let’s take a tour of the dungeon first, so you can get acclimated.”

  “Okay,” Jessica said. “Roman, will you show us?” Oops. Maybe that was too forward. “Or Lauren, I mean. I’m sure you’re busy, sir.”

  Roman checked his wristwatch, a smart-looking piece that probably cost more than her parents’ house.

  “I’d be happy to give you a tour.” He led them to the back of the mansion, through a corridor as dimly lit as the main hall.

  There were lights overhead, but they weren’t on. Roman’s home was as intimidating as he was.

  Roman opened a door that seemed to drop off into nothingness, and stepped down. Peering over the edge, Jessica saw a long staircase that descended to the basement.

  She kept her eyes on her feet as she went down the narrow stairs. Falling now and breaking her neck was not how she intended to get her first dose of pain from Roman Chase’s infamous dungeon, that was for sure.

  At the bottom of the stairs, Jessica looked around her, marveling at the cavernous room.

  “The walls are real stone, imported from Spain,” Roman said.

  “This is your basement?” she gasped. “It’s huge.”

  “Well, yes,” he agreed. “We have more space out here in the country, don’t you think, Mistress Lauren?”

  “Oh stop it,” Lauren groaned. “There is no way in hell you are going to convince me and Marc to move out of Manhattan and you know it.”

  Roman smirked and walked over to the centerpiece of the room. “My own Saint Andrew’s Cross,” he said. “The one at the club is a replica created by the same designer who did this one.”

  Jessica nodded, noticing the thick leather cuffs on the cross. What would it be like to be on that thing?