Loran

 

 

 

Meeting my brother is always infuriating. My hands are clenching around the wheel the entire drive home. I told him to leave me alone with this, and his response is to blackmail me? Is he fucking serious?

I'm beginning to feel like an idiot for helping him out all those years ago. I was the idiot who took the blame for his tax fraud by acting as his bookkeeper and the main IRS point-of-contact for the business when he failed to file and pay his personal income taxes. He was stealing money from the payroll tax account, big fucking amounts of money. There's no excuse for what he did, especially because it almost ruined our family's business. By redirecting all the blame to me, I saved his neck and received what was left of his generous trust fund, in addition to his blood promise about discretion in regards to my dark desires that have gotten me into trouble more than once.

Maybe it was mistake, even though it left me with more money than I had before and more than he has today. Our deal enabled me to have the financial means to build something of my own, a business that's unrelated to my family and closer to my interests. Marketing automation software is something I understand, something in which there’s a lucrative future. It wasn't easy to build, but it's my own, a successful business that's growing daily.

And now he's fucking threatening to bring all of that down, even though it's hard to see how on Earth he thinks it could be done. I know he's looking for something to hold over my head, and it annoys the fuck out of me that I was stupid enough to bring myself into a situation where there's actually something to be discovered in the first place. Something that could destroy my business and my entire life.

Well, it's not exactly something, but someone.

Someone who's already taken so much from me, even though I was the one who took her.

If she ever gets out of my house, if she's ever discovered by anybody, if she ever speaks to anybody about what I did to her, then I'm done. My brother would have an easy job of it, if he's the one to find out about her first.

Of course, that will never happen.

I can feel my mood lighten when I approach the house, knowing that she's waiting for me inside, her green eyes filled with that adoration I‘ve fought so hard to deserve. The collar around her neck has only made her more delicious to me, and the way her natural hair color is coming  back, a little bit day by day, is the most beautiful sight. It's almost as if the transition is a visualization of her transformation as she spends time with me, like the true Ruby is slowly reappearing from underneath everything that masked her true self when I first met her.

I'm calm by the time I drive up the driveway, slowly approaching a house I never thought would feel as much like home as it does now. I've never spent as much time here as I have during the past three weeks. And I've never spent this much time with any other woman before.

She's changed so much. And so have I.

Ruby might be the end of me, but I'm sure as hell going to enjoy every single moment I have with her until then.

I get out of the car and hurry up the stairs to the front entrance, ideas about how I'm going to spend the rest of the day with my little toy bouncing back and forth inside my head. She has been a very good girl lately, only giving me reasons to punish her by choice, teasing, and playing, testing her limits. If I don't watch out, she'll turn into a little brat soon. She's just so goddamn good at playing with my head. Seeing her laugh gives me just as much satisfaction as seeing her moan and cry. I always thought that tears of pain were the most beautiful thing on a woman's face, but that was before I saw Ruby's dazzling smile.

I head upstairs before joining her in the basement, changing out of my clothes and washing my face. Both actions help me wash away the remnants from the horribly annoying meeting with my loser brother.

If I was any more of a silly idiot, I'd be whistling as I make my way downstairs. The effect she has on me is undeniable, and as good as it feels, it's also troubling as fuck.

She's standing in position when I open the door, her vibrant green eyes fixated on me, holding up the leash that's attached to her collar in both hands, and wearing nothing but a black negligé that shows off her round tits. I couldn't wish for a more perfect toy.

The only thing that's unsettling is the look on her face. It's unusually serious and tense.

"What's wrong, my toy?" I ask, as I approach her in wide but calm steps.

She looks up at me as if I was hiding something from her, as if she suspected me of being up to something.

"Nothing," she whispers, but I know it's a lie.

A moment later, we both hear it. The front door opens, and it’s followed by the thud of heavy steps as someone walks into the house.

I can't believe this is happening, but she's the one who's faster, using a moment of confusion on my part to dash past me, exposing yet another weakness. I've failed to lock the door behind me, allowing her to swing it open before I'm able to grab her.

The sounds of her screams for help fill the air by the time she's running up the stairs.