Bejeweled and Bedeviled
An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
Bejeweled and Bedeviled
ISBN 9781419915703
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Bejeweled and Bedeviled Copyright © 2008 Tiffany Bryan
Edited by Briana St. James.
Cover art by Syneca.
Electronic book Publication April 2008
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/)
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Bejeweled and Bedeviled
Tiffany Bryan
Dedication
To my hubby, Jeff—the Sir Geoffrey in the very first novel I ever wrote and the man who brings me roses for no other reason than to cheer me up and express his love. There are so many things to thank you for, but since space is limited I’ll just list a few. All the support and inspiration you’ve given throughout the years. The hours you spent lounging at my back, nagging me for the next pages of my current work so you could read them. Your unwavering and fierce support of my writing. Never once complaining about the money spent on the pursuit of my publishing dream. For being a great dad to our children. But mostly for giving me the peace of mind in knowing that no matter what life throws my way, your loving hand will be extended for me to reach for.
I love you—Wifey.
Acknowledgements
To the most wonderful bunch of friends and critique partners a writer could hope for. Thank you all for your constructive input and support throughout the years.
Kathy Fuller, Chris & Kathy Kraft, Nelson Kirsch, Chris Nolfi, Christy Carlson, Jane Sabo and Kim Porter.
Special thanks to: Mary Ann Chulick who knew when a good swift kick was in order. Raelene Gorlinsky for the opportunity to submit to EC. Briana St. James, my editor, for helping make this story the best it could be.
Trademark Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Gucci: Gucci America, Inc.
Trilliant Cut (aka Trielle, Trillian, Trillion): Henry Meyer Diamond Company of NY
Velcro: Velcro Industries B.V.
Chapter One
SEXUAL BOUNDARIES—Are yours real or imagined?
Kayden Starling moved her gaze from the top of the centerfold article in the four-month-old issue of Tell it Like it Is to the short questionnaire on the adjacent page.
Name A Sexual Act That Both Fascinates and Repels You.
If you’d be willing to try it with complete anonymity—all related expenses paid—and will agree to a confidential interview, reply to the P.O. box provided below.
From the thousands of entries submitted, six lucky readers were handpicked.
Kayden knew because TLI was her baby. The survey, her brainchild.
What the hell had she been thinking!
She didn’t regret the inspiration. It was the best idea she’d had since the magazine’s inception two years ago. It was the getting personally involved part she was doubting.
The project had hatched from a conversation thread on TLI’s new blog of things you’d never be caught dead doing in regard to sex.
Kayden couldn’t help but smile. Give a group of women an open forum of obscurity, real or alcohol induced, and the subject inevitably turned to sex.
They were high on the issue’s success and it was under the proverbial alcohol-induced umbrella that the six women who comprised TLI’s executive staff were enticed into making a personal pact of their own. The general nightclub roundtable consensus—Why the hell should the readers have all the fun? If six follow-up issues were as good for sales as projected, wouldn’t twelve be even better? Irrefutable pocketbook logic no woman contemplating her next pair of Gucci winter boots and matching bag could resist.
So they’d enthusiastically tossed their names into the bowl containing those of the lucky readers picked.
Kayden leveled a jaundiced eye at the fishbowl rimmed with genuine birthstones at the corner of her desk. Purchased at the Bling Your Pet shop on the first floor of the building, it held the remaining ten names for the drawing. A reader, the first name to be drawn, was currently mink-deep in her taboo sexual fantasy of being a rich man’s mistress.
Kayden’s name had been drawn next.
The very reason the owner of Club Kimberlite, Chicago’s most exclusive BDSM and submissives training club, was waiting in the lobby to see her.
A situation that caused her heart to pound and her pussy to throb. Kayden was hard-pressed to say which reaction caused her the most concern.
She loved strong, dominating men. Hell, she netted them like a pheromone-soaked spider web. It was when their dominance spilled out of the bedroom into her everyday life that her independent nature balked.
He was a Master Dom with an impeccable reputation, she highly suspected the only time the word boundaries entered his thoughts was when he was walking over them.
A stickler for her magazine’s reputation, she’d done extensive research. The information on the elusive Mr. Hunter Trielle had been much harder to come by than the details of his reputable establishment. But Kayden had found enough about the man to feel, if not comfortable, at least completely safe with the situation.
She glanced at her notes, still up on her computer screen. Kimberlite—a rock in which diamonds are formed.
An apt name for a club reputed to produce the “jewels” of the submissive world.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the time display at the bottom of her screen.
Six o’clock.
She drew in a deep breath and let it pass through her lips in a slow exhale.
Even if the man had showed up unannounced, without a single attempt to get an appointment, three hours was a long time to keep him waiting. Not a great way to start off with someone you were about to give carte blanche over nearly every aspect of your life and body. Even if it were only for two weeks.
Her gaze dropped to the notepad beside her phone.
Fourteen days.
Three hundred and thirty-six hours.
Twenty thousand one hundred sixty minutes.
One million two hundred nine thousand six hundred seconds.
But who was counting?
After another calming breath, Kayden closed the file and shut down her computer.
Her attempt to reach the intercom button was curtailed by a soft knock on her door, followed by a curvy, petite form slipping into the room.
The tiny smirk on the copy editor’s face made Kayden sigh.
“You can’t keep him waiting forever.” Trista’s pink, glistening lips morphed into a grin. “Come on, smile. Unlike the rest of us, you won’t have to spend any more time agonizing over your decision.”
“You’re so full of crap. All you’ve been talking about this past week is rigging it so your name is picked next so you can pack yourself off to your secluded week of ménage a trois.”
Trista shrugged and sauntered over to plant herself in front of the desk. “I’m trying to psych myself past the repels stage and focus o
n the fascinates.” She stuck her hand into the fishbowl for a quick swirl through the folded, multicolored paper penises. “And it seems to be working. I get so wet thinking about it, I had to lay in an extra supply of batteries for my Big Boy.” She expelled a weighty sigh.
Kayden laughed, and with usual after-hour abandon, pressed the intercom button and spoke loudly. “Shayla, get my broker on the line. Ask him to sink a bundle in whatever brand of batteries Trista uses in her vibrator.” Sitting back, Kayden grinned.
Until the reason for the goofy smile on her friend’s face sank. She dropped her forehead onto her desk. “Any chance in hell he didn’t hear me?”
“Nope,” Trista emphasized with a loud pop of her lips.
Groaning softly, Kayden sat up. “Anyone else out there?”
“Just Consuela. This is the third time the old crone’s been up to vacuum the lobby. Between her and the foot traffic from nearly every female in the building tramping through on some trumped-up errand, including subscribing to TLI, your procrastination is wreaking havoc on our rug fibers.”
“You’re kidding?” Kayden sat up straighter.
Her friend shook her head. “The upside is we just broke the record for single-day subscription sales.”
“I suppose that’s something.”
“He’s gorgeous. With a capital G.” A dreamy sigh followed the statement. “It seems no one is impervious to his strong, silent charms. Hell, this is my third trip through and I’ve lost track of the times Morgan, Kendra and Harley have given Shayla a break from her secretarial duties to keep him company while he waits. And I gotta tell ya, not one of us would have a problem kneeling at that man’s feet with mouth open wide.”
“Yeah well, I appreciate the offer and if I find myself in need of any help, I’ll be sure to call.”
Trista ran a tongue across her lips, kicking up the shine. “I know I speak for the group when I say, night or day, you got my number.”
Kayden rolled her eyes. “All right, point taken. Give me five minutes and have Shayla show Mr. Gorgeous in.”
Exactly five minutes later, her door reopened.
Resigned to her self-inflicted fate, Kayden looked over the top of her secretary’s curly red head to the tall, dark-haired, gut-wrenching hunk behind her and became immediately ensnared in his piercing amber gaze.
One thought went through her mind.
She was about to go skinny-dipping in some very dangerous waters.
* * * * *
“Mr. Trielle.” Kayden stood and extended her hand over the clutter on her desk, catching Shayla’s thumbs-up as she quietly exited.
“Hunter.” Instead of offering his right hand, he used his left to capture hers and draw her out from around her desk. He held her gaze for several intense seconds before indulging in a slow, arousing perusal of her body.
Feeling exposed down to her darkest secrets, she warded off a shiver and gave free rein to her irritation. “Would you like me to strip and turn around? Wouldn’t want you to miss anything. That’s why you’re here, right? To size me up?”
“An enticing offer, Kayden.” He released her hand. “If I thought it stemmed from anything other than a feeling of vulnerability, I would take you up on it.”
She frowned. “It has nothing to do with vul—”
“Don’t.” His voice stern, he cupped her chin in a grasp that was no less commanding for its gentleness. “I will tolerate many things during your training. Lying…is not one of them. Neither to me, nor yourself.” He loosened his hold to run his thumb over her lips, leaving an electrifying fizz in its wake. “Not until you learn the limits of my tolerance and the consequences for exceeding them.”
Caught in his compelling gaze, Kayden fought the urge to rock up on tiptoes and offer up her mouth for his plundering pleasure. The thought of where else he might plunder caused a flood of sensation between her legs. “Now why don’t we sit and discuss my terms for our agreement. Then perhaps we’ll revisit your generous offer.”
Freed of his hold and potent gaze when he turned to take the chair in front of her desk, Kayden felt both relieved and bereft. It wasn’t until she was firmly reseated in the position of power behind her desk that his words registered. “Your terms? What about mine?”
“I am well aware of your terms, Kayden. You were quite meticulous in spelling them out during our e-mail exchanges. Normally, I would never have agreed to participate in anything like this. But you intrigued me.”
“Yes, it is an intriguing concept. Everyone thinks so.”
He shook his head. “Not the idea…you. The reason I decided to make this surprise visit instead of having you come to me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“People’s reactions are influenced by environment. I needed to see you in yours. Get a true sense of your wants. Your needs. Learn what I need to know to be sure we’d be a suitable match.”
“You’re kidding, right? We’ve been together all of what,” she glanced at the clock on the wall, “fourteen minutes and you’re saying you know me? Not likely.”
“It has nothing to do with time. I just needed to look into your eyes.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
He took a deep, measured breath, drawing attention to his impressively wide chest. Knowing she would feel the pleasurable weight of it in the not-too-distant future made her breasts tingle.
“Are you saying you don’t believe it?”
Not entirely sure she didn’t and remembering what he’d said about lying, she opted for a change in subject. “Maybe it would be best to get on with your terms. It’s getting late and you probably have something—someone—back at your club that needs your attention.”
“As luck would have it, I’d only recently returned from a much-needed rest in the Philippines when I came across your interesting request. I hadn’t committed to training a new sub yet.”
She almost asked if it was his arm that needed rest from whipping women into submission, but she doubted he’d see the humor in it. Taking measure of the bronzed, healthy-looking and extremely fit man sitting across from her, Kayden was seriously beginning to question her so-called luck.
This was a game, nothing more. Her body wasn’t supposed to be humming along to the tune of the power he seemed to exude without so much as a quirk of his little finger. Unnerved by her reaction to him, she attempted to regain some control by saying, “It must be nice having a private island hideaway to escape to.”
One dark brown eyebrow rose slightly.
The satisfaction she felt by his apparent surprise made her smile. A fair hand at reading people herself, she’d sensed he wasn’t a man easily impressed.
“You would have had to dig long and very deep to find that bit of information. Was it curiosity about me personally or can I assume you research everything this thoroughly?”
“Everything.”
“Club Kimberlite?”
She nodded.
“The submissive lifestyle?”
Another quick nod.
Only to regret it when a predatory smile touched his lips. “Excellent. Then I will expect much more from you as you already have a fair knowledge of what I’ll require of you.”
“I never said I knew everything. And I’m sure the experience is a far cry from reading about it. That would be like slapping a collar on a dog, snapping on a leash and expecting it to heel its first time out.”
He didn’t so much as blink at the deliberately crude parody she’d drawn. Why she felt the need to crack his calm veneer, she wasn’t sure. Nor was she sure it was wise. She suspected it was a sudden case of nerves and that he was pressing her beyond her comfort zone way too quickly for her liking.
“You know I don’t expect that of you, any more than you expect me to believe after your in-depth research, you think that’s how a Dom perceives his sub. They are loved and cherished as well, if not better in some circumstances, as most wives. That a large majority of couples living this lifestyle are,
in fact, happily married to each other.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“A perfect opportunity for your first lesson. A sincere apology is always accepted.”
She got the uneasy feeling there was a but lingering somewhere after that statement. Deciding this might not be the best time to have it clarified, she asked, “Exactly what are your terms?” A rhetorical question, since she had a fairly good idea.
The corners of his mouth lifted a fraction. “There’s only two. The first—your choice of a safe word. And I think you know what the other one is.”
“Total submission.” She didn’t bother to make it a question.
His smile widened. “Do you agree?”
Did she? She could back out. No one was holding a gun to her head. But if she did, she’d possibly be throwing away the best opportunity she’d ever have to lay to rest a deeply buried fear she’d harbored for years. And what better man than the charismatic, supremely confident one patiently waiting for her answer to test it against. “Yes,” she said with the feeling of just having consigned her soul to the devil. “I’m all yours. For the next two weeks,” she added hastily.
He shook his head. “Four weeks. More if I think necessary for you to gain full knowledge. After all, you wouldn’t want your magazine’s integrity taken into question.”
“Four!” She rose from her chair. “I never agreed to that. I have a business to run.”
“Yes, you did commit to that…and more when you agreed to my second term. I will allow you ample time to confer with your staff whenever needed. Having done some research of my own, I’ll admit to being impressed with the qualifications and caliber of the women you’ve chosen to help run your company. Intelligence and beauty are a combination few men can resist. And after all, I am but a simple man.”
Kayden smothered a snort. Simple her great-aunt Winifred’s fat ass. But if she didn’t agree, she’d have to start from square one. And that she wouldn’t do. Impeccable both in reputation and screening measures, validated by the rigorous medical and psychological exams required of anyone wishing to partake in this particular club’s training, his was number one. And she never settled for number two.