Chapter 8

Watching the video didn’t help anyone. Olivia was so pissed she was practically seeing red as she paced around the office and Patrick and Lexie weren’t much better.

Not only had Olivia and Luke’s return interrupted a pretty hot and heavy make-out session that was definitely leading to something more, but both of them were nearly apoplectic at Olivia’s car being vandalized in the parking lot, and there was nothing usable on the security camera. They’d called Kincaid, who had immediately turned around and come back to the club to view the tape; he’d be able to submit it for evidence along with the report of vandalism, but unfortunately he wasn’t going to be able to do much else.

From the tape they couldn’t even be sure if the person was a man or woman. 

Luke had watched as closely as he could as the bulky form, completely obscured with a massively puffy coat, scarf, and hat, moved into the view of the cameras, across the lot, and only paused for a moment before singling out Olivia’s car from the others. They quickly scratched the insult on her door and then hurried off. Wherever they’d parked, it had been far out of sight of any of Stronghold’s cameras, which meant they probably knew the cameras were there.

“Roland,” Lexie fumed from her place on Patrick’s lap. Her presence on top of him was probably the only thing that was helping him keep his anger coldly contained, he’d been close to throwing things when Lexie had finally pushed him onto the chair and sat on him, demanding he hold her. Patrick had responded immediately to his sub’s request, keeping a rein on his anger while going into comforting mode for his girlfriend. Luke wished he could do the same with Olivia, she hadn’t stopped pacing from the moment they’d gotten into the office. “It has to be Roland. After our run in with him at the club? He called you that.”

“Unfortunately that doesn’t count as actual proof,” Kincaid said, apology and frustration heavy in his voice. Standing by Patrick’s desk, he was keeping an eye on the whole room, watching Olivia rather warily. “I’ll try to find him on my personal time to have a word with him, just in case, but there’s no way to actually know it was him. We definitely don’t have enough to bring charges or even get him to pay for it.”

“Fuck!” Olivia yelled, smacking her hand against the file cabinet she’d just reached in her travels across Patrick’s office. Everyone flinched at the harsh sound as it echoed through the room. Shit, that had to hurt. Luke jumped up, hurrying over to take hold of her hand, which she was now shaking out. He cupped it from underneath, frowning at the redness of her palm. When he looked up, she was staring at him, almost bemused, her expression and voice both gentler than they had been a minute ago. “It’s fine, Luke. I’m fine. At least, I will be.”

She sighed, and the energy and anger seemed to drain out of her, leaving just upset and resignation in its wake. Turning hers and Luke’s hands around, she patted the back of his hand—actually looking a little calmer—before pulling away, going to lean on one of the padded armchairs in front of Patrick’s desk. Luke followed a little more slowly, trying not to appear like he was hovering while still doing his best to hover protectively over her.

He didn’t know what to do and he didn’t like it.

The same helpless feeling everyone seemed burdened with right now.

“There’s seriously nothing we can do at all?” Patrick asked with a growl. 

“Not really,” Kincaid said, his own voice much more strained than usual. The big, usually quiet, authoritative man was furious.

“I just want to go home,” Olivia said, sounding tired.

“Not alone.”

“Not by yourself.”

“I’m going with you.”

Kincaid, Luke, and Patrick all spoke nearly on top of each other.

Olivia’s lips flattened out as she pierced them all with a coldly silver gaze in turn, starting with Patrick whom she was facing—and had been the one to declare he was going with her—then to Kincaid, and ending with Luke. He looked back at her, calmly and just as implacably as the two Doms. The bedroom was the only place he was submissive.

“Someone needs to go with you,” Patrick said, drawing Olivia’s attention away from Luke. “You know I’d be saying the same thing, male or female, dominant or submissive, if their car had been vandalized here. Whoever did this—maybe it was Roland, maybe it wasn’t—they know who you are. You were targeted. For all we know, he or she made a stop by your apartment as well or is there now. I wouldn’t send anyone in this position home without backup.”

******

Sighing, Olivia knew Patrick was right. Which just made her feel both more tired and angrier. If this was Roland’s work she was going to dig out his heart. With a spoon.

It was just so stupid if it was him, but she honestly couldn’t think of anyone else it might be. Kincaid had asked her all the standard questions, but she didn’t have any exes, she didn’t think any of the submissives in the club had a grudge against her or had shown any special interest in her. Well, except for Luke, but he definitely hadn’t been the one to key her car. 

“Fine, I’ll take Luke,” she said, enjoying the way the man behind her—who was doing a halfway decent job of not looming over her even though he obviously wanted to—jumped in surprise. At least he hadn’t expected that. Just in case Roland, or some other deranged idiot, was waiting there for her, she wasn’t going to have Lexie come home with her—and there’d be no keeping her away if Patrick accompanied Olivia home.

She wanted Kincaid to go pass off all the stuff to his co-workers down at the police station now rather than later. She had a feeling Patrick would get on her nerves with his bossiness if he came home with her right now, and she wanted a chance to soothe Luke’s agitation. Lexie and Patrick could take care of each other, as upset as Kincaid was he was also handling himself, but Luke was definitely struggling.

He might not be her sub, but she did feel some responsibility towards him. Plus, she could use a little soothing of her own. His presence made her feel a little better, especially when he’d come over to check on her after she’d smacked the filing cabinet. The others wouldn’t have dared to. Or assumed she didn’t need to be checked on. Which she didn’t. But she’d still gotten a little warm and fuzzy from knowing he cared. Unlike a Dom, he hadn’t tried to reprimand her or given her a look for harming herself, he’d just been concerned. Olivia was becoming more and more sure Luke was a service submissive, even if he didn’t realize how it affected his behavior on a day-to-day basis.

Olivia turned towards him slightly. “If that’s okay with you.”

“That’s fine,” he said, a little glint in his blue eyes that made him look almost mischievous. She shot him a repressive look, her lips pursing, but for some reason that just made him grin wider.

“All right then,” Kincaid said, interrupting Olivia and Luke’s sexual tension-laden stare down. “I’m going to the station.”

“I’m going to—” Patrick started to say, but Lexie twisted in her seat on his lap.

“Home,” she said, quietly but firmly. “There’s nothing more you can do here and I want to go home please.”

There was a small pause and then Patrick sighed, the air and protective anger funneling out of him all at once. Olivia knew how he felt. “Okay Pixie, we’ll go home.”

Despite everything, Olivia couldn’t help but smile as she stood, indicating Luke should go with her. She was glad everything had ended up working out between those two; they were good for each other. A work romance gone right. Of course, Patrick was the boss in both the bedroom and everywhere else, so the dynamic was totally different.

Stepping back outside, some of Olivia’s anger and upset came rushing back and she paused for a moment to turn and look at Luke, wanting a bit of distraction. He had his head down and was on his phone.

“Sorry,” he said, finishing up whatever he was typing and moving a little more quickly. “I was just asking my brother if he can swing by and take my dog for her late night walk.”

“Oh… I’m sorry, I didn’t even think—” she started to say, but he interrupted her with a wave of his hand as he pushed his phone into his pocket.

“I wouldn’t have volunteered if I didn’t want to or if it would cause me problems. My brother only lives five minutes away from me and Molly adores him. He spoils her way more than I do.” 

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

The air between them seemed to stretch for a moment, but Olivia turned away before their sexual tension could rise again. She didn’t want to use Luke as a distraction from her upset over her car, and right now she couldn’t be sure that wasn’t part of his attraction.

******

Olivia’s apartment was warmly welcoming with a lot of light, modern wood furniture and soft, relaxing colors. He’d expected a lot more red, but apparently she kept that particular color confined to her wardrobe. Everything in her apartment was cream, beige, a muted orange like a sinking sun, and dark forest green. The building had a front desk but that wasn’t much security considering there wasn’t even anyone standing behind it when they arrived, so he could understand why Patrick had wanted someone to go home with her and why she hadn’t protested.

From what they could see, no one had been by, but she’d invited him in for a drink anyway. One which he’d happily accepted. Nick had been happy to walk Molly, so Luke didn’t need to rush and he took Olivia’s invitation as a really good sign. He’d gotten a couple of really good openings with her tonight and he didn’t intend to waste a single one.

Even though part of him still wished she’d been the one scening with him during class, if not scening with him had resulted in the rest of it then he couldn’t really complain. Whatever made her more comfortable.

He sat on the couch with the beer she’d gotten for him, trying to casually look around her room without appearing too nosy as she settled into the chair across from him. Too much to hope she’d sit on the couch next to him, he supposed. But she looked good against the soft, dark green fabric of her armchair; even relaxed despite the button down shirt and dress slacks she was wearing. Leaning against one arm, she took a long sip of the white wine she had poured for herself before focusing on him again.

“So.”

“So,” he responded, with a small smile. “Eventful night.”

The small laugh he received in return warmed him far more than the beer did. Here, more than anywhere, she was a little different. Not softer exactly, but less guarded. Less obviously commanding. Relaxed.

“I still can’t believe that fucker keyed my car.” 

“You sound like you agree with Lexie about it being Roland?” he asked, although not skeptically since it sounded the same way to him. Luke had never met the guy but he’d been listening to what the others had said. The man sounded like a complete ass. The kind of guy who thought he should be able to just do whatever he wanted without ever considering the people around him. Self-involved and narcissistic, not to mention a misogynist. Focusing on the Domme who had kicked him out of her class—which meant he couldn’t play as a Dom at Stronghold—rather than the male owner of the club. He’d also probably been unable to find anywhere else to play, according to Patrick, who had done his best to blackball the man in all the clubs.

Roland had a bit of a history with Stronghold’s parking lot, apparently, attempting to accost Leigh in it on his way out when he’d been expelled and now tonight. Assuming it was him tonight.

“I mean, who knows,” Olivia said, but she wasn’t very convincing. Luke raised his eyebrow at her and she shrugged. “Yeah, I think it was probably him. The timing is too coincidental. We run into him one night where he starts screaming at me and the next night my car is keyed? I also probably like the idea of it being him because I already don’t like him and I also don’t like the idea of two people out there disliking me enough to key ‘cunt’ on my car.”

The way her lips twisted when she said ‘my car’ made him want to get up and give her a hug… but he didn’t know if that would be okay so he stayed put and just gripped his beer bottle a little tighter.

“I don’t like the idea of there being one,” he muttered, and was rewarded with another small smile, a little sparkle of amusement making its way back into her eyes.

“There’s probably quite a few who would like to,” she said almost teasingly. “Just not many who would actually be cruel—or stupid—enough to follow through. I’m pretty sure even my Baby Doms really hated me at least once or twice while they were going through their initial training. After all, they have to experience everything they want to put a submissive through.”

“Should that make me afraid?” he asked, grinning wider at the sight of a truly relaxed, flirty Olivia. Even more so than she had been when he’d stopped by to chat with her during the afternoon. The office was her space, but it wasn’t truly hers in the way her apartment was. There, she felt the weight of her position as manager and his as silent partner in the club. Here, she didn’t seem to.

At least, that was the only explanation he could think of for the subtle but definite change in her demeanor.

A slow smile spread across her face. “Perhaps. You did leave a lot of options open on your survey.”

Arousal stirred, warring with a touch of anxiety—because he had left a lot open due to his own inexperience and his desire not to shut himself off from anything that could ruin any chance he had with her from the beginning.

“Oh yeah?” he said, the challenge coming out of his mouth before he could think about it. “Why don’t you show me?”

A fire flared in her silver eyes, turning them to liquid heat as one finely arched brow lifted. The wine glass twirled slightly between her fingers. Her lips didn’t purse though; he finally got to see the smile she was always suppressing. A little twist of her mouth, one side curving up in almost in a smirk with just a touch of wicked that sent blood surging to his cock in sheer appreciation of how sinfully gorgeous she was.

“All right, cupcake.” She straightened up, sitting regally like a queen on her throne, one forearm on each armrest. “Come here.”

Luke started to get up.

“No.” Her voice dipped, lilted with both amusement and sexual heat. She nodded to the floor. “On your hands and knees, cupcake. I want to watch you crawl to me.”

Crawl?

Luke’s spine stiffened along with his cock.

No, part of him said. He wouldn’t do that. Couldn’t.

Yes, said the rest of him. Look at the way she’s watching you. Look at the way she’s leaning towards you. She’s not asking because she wants to humiliate you. She’s telling you to do what makes her hot.

******

Watching the changing expressions on Luke’s face was fun. Curiosity, interest, wariness… they were all there, the kind of mix which piqued her dominant side and made her want to get out her toys and play with the innocent subbie in him. Then she’d ordered him to crawl to her and the expressions she really thrived on had finally made an appearance. Pride, reluctance, desire, uncertainty, trepidation, arousal, acceptance.

She had to admit, she hadn’t been entirely sure what he would do.

But he’d been throwing down gauntlets left and right, trying to push her in his own way, trying to maneuver around her. So now she’d been the one to throw down a gauntlet and see what he made of it. If he was going to back up all the talk.

Never taking his eyes away from hers, he took one last drink from his beer bottle and then reached out and placed it on the coffee table. Then he got down on his knees and started to crawl.

He wasn’t graceful. He wasn’t quick. And he wasn’t entirely happy about it. 

But he was crawling.

Olivia’s heart rate picked up as she watched him coming. Before he reached her, she put her own half-finished wine glass on the end table next to her chair, wanting both hands free to touch him. After all, he deserved a reward. And watching this confident, reluctant man get on his hands and knees at her demand was making her hot.

“Good cupcake,” she murmured when he reached her, sliding her fingers into his hair and tipping his head back as he knelt the way he’d been shown in class, just in front of her chair. Hands on his thighs, knees spread apart, and close enough to her chair that she didn’t have to lean forward much. She saw the surprise and appreciation in his eyes before she lowered her lips to his for a hot kiss. 

A very hot kiss. Maybe even hotter than the one in the parking lot because she was no longer feeling any hesitation.

He’d come home with her. Had done a very good job of not acting like her boss for the entire time she’d known him. Was submitting to her even though she hadn’t made it easy for him.

With him kneeling in front of her, she had even more control than before… and the lack of their winter coats was very nice. She gripped his hair in one hand while the other caressed down the back of his neck, exploring the shorter hairs her fingers found there as she explored inside his collar, and then across his nice, broad shoulders. His muscles tensed and relaxed under her hand as he kissed her back, pushing upwards against her, and then halting as she held him in place by his hair. She could feel his excitement surging higher under her lips, feel his shoulders bunch as if to lift his hand, and then stop… pause… settle.

With a final nip to his lower lip, Olivia pulled away, leaving him hot-eyed and panting. She was feeling a bit breathless herself, her breasts swollen inside of her bra, itchy against the silky lace, and her thighs were pressed together in excitement. Glancing down his body, she could see his cock bulging at the front of his pants.

“Are you sure you want me to play with you tonight?” she asked him in a low, sultry voice, sliding a nail along his jawline. Her other hand was still in his hair although she’d gentled her grip just a touch. “I’m in a bit of a mood after seeing my car, cupcake. I might not play nicely.”

“Feel free to take out your aggression on me, ma’am,” he said with a cocky grin that she was tempted to make him regret. 

But she needed to be gentle with her new toy until she knew exactly how much he could take. 

And she wanted to go slowly for herself, because she still wasn’t entirely convinced this wasn’t a terrible idea. 

She could work off a little of her stress though. The real question was, how far was she willing to go with him tonight?

******

If Olivia didn’t do something with him, Luke was sure he was going to explode. He hadn’t thought crawling across the floor for a kiss would be something that would turn him on, but doing it for her… and hot damn, that kiss. Worth every second of feeling awkward and vulnerable and silly on all fours. Olivia obviously hadn’t thought he was any of those things—except maybe vulnerable and he had a feeling she liked that part.

The fingers stroking his hair were both arousing and soothing, and he was both a bit surprised and intrigued by how much he liked having his hair played with. One nail skimmed the scruff on his chin and then ran down the side of his neck, pressing hard enough to scrape right on the edge of being painful. He could feel all the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck rising and his cock pulsed as she silently examined his expression.

Holding still and not reaching for her took an incredible amount of willpower because he was feeling so impatient.

“Let’s take this off,” she murmured, a smile curving her lips as her nail dragged down the front of his chest to the first button of his shirt, which she easily popped open at the same time she finished her sentence.

Now Luke did move his hands, to the next button on his shirt and began undoing the front as Olivia sat back slightly to watch. He’d never had a woman just sit and watch him undress before for the sheer appreciation of just seeing him do so. Especially not one who had already seen him a lot more naked, but looked as interested in the process as if this was the first time. Is this how women felt when they did this for men? Sexy and exposed at the same time? He’d had a number of women undress in a sexy manner for him, but he’d never had it the other way around before. Never even thought about it till now.

Once his shirt was fully unbuttoned, Olivia leaned forward again, letting out a soft little sigh of appreciation as she slid her hands under his shirt and over his shoulders, pushing it off of his body. Her palms and fingers were soft against his skin, making him ache to be touched more than the light caress of her hands as his shirt slipped to the floor. As if she could read his mind, Olivia obliged, running her hands down his chest, over his pecs, and making him groan and shudder as she touched him. When she reached his nipples, her fingers swirled, paused… pinched.

Luke hissed.

“Geezus, woman.” He fisted his hands at his side at the hot pain as the tiny buds throbbed, his cock pulsing in the same rhythm.

“What happened to ‘ma’am’?” she asked, her lips curving with sadistic amusement as she twisted.

He gasped. Felt his legs tremble. Groaned. Fuck that hurt. And felt good. At the same time.

It had been years since he’d felt like a novice at anything sexual—even though he’d had occasional insecurities after Samantha had dumped him, he’d never really thought anyone had anything new to show him. Olivia made him feel like he hadn’t had enough imagination. She definitely did. And here he’d offered himself up as a canvas to work off her aggression, obviously thinking with his dick more than his brain.

“Fucking hell, ma’am,” he responded with a groan. When she released his nipples they still felt hotly pained, tender like he’d never experienced. Then she placed her hand over the bulge at the front of his pants and he stopped giving a shit about how his nipples felt. His back arched, head tipping back, hips thrusting forward, and his hand was atop hers before he could think about it, trying to curve her fingers more firmly around his dick through his pants, because it felt so fucking good.

“Hands off,” Olivia ordered, her voice suddenly sharp and displeased, and Luke nearly whimpered, jerking his hand away from hers like he’d been burned. But she was a beautiful and benevolent sexual goddess, and she kept her hand right where it was on his needy cock. “Behind your back, cupcake, to help you control yourself. And stand up.”

Standing up with his hands behind his back, each hand cupping an elbow the way she’d instructed in class earlier to make the position easier to hold, wasn’t easy but he managed. Their respective heights put the bulge of his cock right in front of her face, her hand still just holding steady over his pants and driving him fucking wild with just that small amount of constant pressure. 

Her smile widened as she began to undo the front of his pants, like she was opening a present to herself, and a groan rumbled through his chest as he struggled with keeping himself still. This was definitely not what he was used to, but fuck him if he didn’t like it. Actually… just fuck him. Please.

“Mmmm, very nice,” she said, her voice sultry as his cock sprung out, achingly hard and bobbing in front of her. He was about to say something flirtatious, hopefully witty, back when she curled her fingers around his length and pumped.

Slowly.

Firmly.

Gliding her hand back up along the shaft to thumb the wet fluid gathered at his tip.

His voice caught in his throat, strangling him.

Damn the woman had a strong grip. His knees wobbled, threatening to buckle, and for some reason he found himself gripping his elbows tighter as if that would help. Strangely, it seemed to.

“I think,” she mused, giving him another slow stroke that made him tremble. “I would like you on your back on the floor.”

Stroke.

“Hands behind your head.”

Stroke.

Release.

He groaned in disappointment.

“Down, cupcake. Now.”