Willow

Pike is silently ordering the staff around the small VIP room, not saying a word, yet they jump to his every whim.  Every nod of his head. Or raise of his chin they interpret and do his bidding.

The space is lush and dark, lit from above and below with golden chandeliers and silver lamps that cast glimmering light on every dark surface.  It’s filled with the smells of sauces, prime rib and grilled vegetables.  The warm scent of vanilla from the candles caps off the overwhelming attack on my senses.

Whitney and Adam are drooling over the buffet.  Pike insisted.  Something that he wanted to do for us.  Even as it’s being set out before us I’m still shaking, battling the conflicting feelings that race and stomp around inside of me.  

Every few seconds Pike looks over at me, confirming us.  He won’t look away until I meet his eyes.  My panties are soaked, my body still on a hair trigger, ready for the slightest touch that I feel from Pike would set off another orgasm.

“Did you know this was his place?  I mean I knew about Lord Tower, just from stories and things I heard.  But I didn’t know who he was in real life. Did you?”  Murphy crosses and uncrosses her legs.  She’s sitting next to me on the onyx velvet of a sofa so soft it takes an assist to get your ass back up and out.  “I mean, when you were growing up, did you know?  Did you realize your stepfather was part of...”  She swivels her head up and all around, then her eyes comes back to my face.  “...this lifestyle?”

Since we walked in the club I have been wide eyed in disbelief at the things I’ve seen.  I’m not totally naïve.  I know about BDSM and there’s the movie and books that everyone but me seems to have read and seen.  But here, in this place, it’s unlike anything I imagined. It’s elegant.  There’s a glamour and restraint about the place and the people here.  It’s not the sex fest I might have expected.  It’s something else.

Sure, I’ve managed to catch a glimpse of a few scenes that would have most of the Daughters of the American Revolution clutching their pearls, but it’s not tawdry.  None of it feels dirty or perverse. As a matter of fact, I feel safe and at ease here.  

“No.”  I shake my head.  “Never.  Not that I ever asked.”

Pike raises his chin toward me.  When we finally came back downstairs, he told me he needed to take care of a few matters after he made sure the buffet was set up and that I ate something.  He also made sure I drank a bottle of water and asked about ten times about my friends, what they were doing with their lives now, where they lived and how we’d arrived.  

“Well, your stepfather was hot before—“

I cut her off. “He’s not my stepfather.”  My voice sounds harder than is reasonable, and I soften it before adding, “Not anymore.”

She cocks one of her elegant arched eyebrows higher, a slight smirk playing on her lips. “Okay then.  Your former stepfather was always hot.  But, Jesus, Willow.  Do you know who he is?  Lord Tower is like a legend or something in this lifestyle.  Whitney’s been trying to get into this club for a year.  She’s been babbling on and on ad nauseam. But she didn’t know your...”  She clears her throat. “...she didn’t know Pike was Lord Tower.  The story goes that he is some kind of master, but that he hasn’t engaged with or touched a woman in years.  Kind of ironic.  Instead he just mentors, oversees and runs this place.  Doesn’t play or get involved.  Not anymore.  Rumor is he had his heart broken.  He had a one and only, and when she left he vowed he would never touch another woman again as long a he lived.  I’m not sure if it’s true or not, but makes for a damn good story.  Imagine, a man like that all alone...it’s a crime.”

She raises her voice on the last word and raises a hand, wiggling her fingers in Pike’s direction, but I immediately smack them back down.

“Stop it.”  I’m not sure if I’m more irritated that she’s flirting with him or about the little back story she’s just shared.  “Don’t embarrass me.”  I add, trying for some cover in case she caught the intensifying green glow in my eyes.

“Whatever.”  She rolls her eyes.  “I saw him on CNBC a couple weeks ago.  Richards’ Holdings is about to merge with some telecom something or other.  Will make a billion dollars in share price in a day, or a gazillion, or some decadent, over the top number.  He’s hot as fuck, the CEO of one of the most successful equities firms in the country and a Dom who I would let turn me ass up any day.  And you used to call him Daddy.”  She screws up her face and I give her a little kick.

“Stop it.”

“So what did you guys talk about, anyway?  You were gone for over an hour.”

“Nothing.”  My face turns hot.  “Just catching up.  Last time I saw him was hard.  I think we both needed to...”

I let it go there, my voice falling silent as Pike steps into our circle.  His hand rests on my shoulder as he nods at Whitney, who immediately uncrosses her Victoria Secret legs and opens her knees an inch.  I roll my eyes and look down at my flat canvas shoes, wondering if my feet would ever tolerate the five inch heels that Whitney wears everywhere but to bed.

Actually, who knows, maybe she wears them there too.

I’m a little wistful, thinking of what just happened up in Pike’s office.  The things we said to one another.  In hindsight it almost makes me cringe.  But in the moment, it felt so right.  So perfect.  Like a gift you’ve waited to open for years.   There was no shame, just this strange sense of belonging and peace.

And lust.

Don’t forget the lust.  Because when he dropped that first ‘Daddy’?  I was done for.

“Food is ready.”  Pike’s deep voice covers me like a favorite comforting blanket.

“Well, you don’t have to tell me twice.  I could eat a horse.”  Murphy slaps her hands on her knees and is on her feet.  She saunters past Pike, brushing against him with a flirty smile.  He remains stone still.  Those fingertips of his on my shoulder nearly pin me in place, they feel so heavy.

“We think Murphy has a hollow leg.”  I force a smile and Pike regards me intently.  

“I remember.  She once ate six crèmes brûlées in one sitting.  I recall your friends quite well, Caramia.  Although Adam is new.”

His attention to detail always astounded me.  He remembers the most subtle things.  I could never get away with anything when he lived with us.  Not that I was all that mischievous, but even if I was, I knew from the first weeks with my stepfather there would be no putting anything over on this man.

“Adam’s been around.  He just didn’t come to the house.  Mom didn’t like his family.  You know how that goes with her.”  I swallow hard as Pike lifts his fingertips and grazes my cheek.

“I do remember that, yes.  She has her ways.”  

Pike is also eternally polite and diplomatic.  He’s Switzerland in more ways than one.

I rub my fingers over my eyebrows, trying to make peace with how we are here chatting like distant cousins after what just happened.  In his usual fashion, Pike picks up on my distress.

“Princess.”  He lowers his voice, shifts around in front of me and crouches down, his hands coming to rest on top of my knees.  “Tell me what you are thinking.”

I glance over to see my friends all filling their plates with heaps of gourmet food.  The staff are fawning all over them as they serve and smile.  Pike and I are invisible.

“Tell you what I’m thinking...”  I repeat, licking my lips.  “Not sure I’m able to do that in less than a hundred thousand words.  And I don’t think we have that kind of time.”

His hands squeeze my knees.  Hard enough to catch my attention.  “We have all the time you need.  I’m right here.”  His green eyes pierce my resolve and I’m a little girl again.  The little girl who grew up without a father.  The older girl who fell head over heels for the dark haired, calm man her mother married.  

When she wasn’t even sure if love was real.  

When thick glasses and a back brace for her scoliosis only served to separate her more from any dream that she could ever be anyone’s princess.

He leans in, waiting for me to give him my full attention before he speaks in a low, growly voice that hits me directly in the clitoris and takes hold of my very being.  “I meant what I said.  You’re mine.  Do you like hearing me say that, Caramia?  That you belong to me?”

My tummy does eight kinds of back flips and I nearly gasp out another quick orgasm right here.  He says it with such confidence.  There is no question in his voice, no hesitation or doubt.  

“This is crazy.”  I mutter, lowering my head and tugging at the fingers on my left hand with my right.

Pike immediately takes my hands, cupping each distraught digit into the clamshell of his larger, more powerful hands.  Smiling, shaking his head.  “Crazy...  Crazy is us not taking this night for what it is, Princess.  Fate and coincidence stand separated by a fine line, but tonight was fate.”   He starts to stand, pulling my hands and me up with him.  “Now, I’m going to insist you eat.  So you are welcome to make your own plate, but I prefer to do it for you.”

The way he says it makes me want to give him what he wants.  To please him.  So I nod and bite my lip.  “You know what I like.  My taste hasn’t changed much.”

The smile that opens his lips, flashing the world’s sexiest teeth, warms me from toes to nose.

“Thank you, princess.  Taking care of you pleases me more than you will ever know.  Why don’t you go sit with your friends?  I’ll be right there.”

I look over and realize I didn’t even notice Whitney, Adam and Murphy sitting at a round table, already digging into their plates of food.  I laugh and turn back, just as the light catches in the slightest tip of silver hair that dusts Pike’s temples.  It is in contrast with the precision cut of the rest of his near black hair.  He looks the same to me, only better.  How is it that men age so well?  He was stark, raving hot years ago, but now?  

Jesus.

It’s exponentially hotter.  I swallow hard as he sets his hand once again in the small of my back, waiting for me to step forward before he follows.  He sends me to an open seat at the table with my friends.  I know I should be wondering just what I was thinking, letting myself do those things with him, and I chastise myself silently for getting swept up in the moment. After all, I’ve never believed in fate.

Or that there is one mate for us in this world.

But all those beliefs are swept away by Pike’s scent, filling my nostrils, making my heart beat faster.  My insides seem to move around as I think of him as a man. Not as my stepfather.  

Could we have really known, all those years ago, that we were meant to be this?  Certainly not when I was a child.  I was too young and Pike is a man of honor and integrity. I’ve never been more sure of that than I am right now.

When he left, he left for me.  Because the pain it caused him was no match for what he felt would be the best for me.  Only what he didn’t realize is how safe I felt during those years he was with us.  How safe I felt whenever he was near.  Then, when he left, the empty hole inside me could never be filled.

“Sit.”  He pulls the chair out and I jump.  I didn’t even realize he was back.

He’s standing next to me with a plate of food and I see a peace in his eyes that I don’t remember seeing before. I let myself drift into a world where we could be together.  A day when no one will care who we used to be to each other. Who my mother is or who Pike is to the outside world.  Not this man, this Lord Tower that stands next to me right now.

If I’m being realistic and honest then I should say there’s no future here, shouldn’t I?  It’s madness to believe otherwise.  A future life for me and my former stepfather?

No.

Absolutely not.

Madness doesn’t even begin to describe it.

And yet I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.

I belong to this man.