Out of the Darkness (Untwisted #2) Page 4

  I was seriously keyed up after my meeting with Stella, but that wasn’t the only reason that my mind was in overdrive; returning to Club Twist for the first time in many months had prompted long-buried thoughts to return to my mind. It wasn’t often that I allowed my mind to slip back to childhood memories, I had good reason to deliberately avoid it, but for some reason tonight’s occurrences with the naïve Stella had sent my mind tumbling back to where it had all started, the very reason that control had become so important to me.

  Closing my eyes I set my head back on the sofa and begrudgingly allowed the plush luxury of my hard-earned London penthouse to melt away, and be replaced in my mind’s eye by the tatty, pale yellow walls of my childhood bedroom. God I had hated that crappy wallpaper …

  Suddenly I was ten years old again and my father was leaning over me, muttering under his breath about what selfish, ignorant children he had fathered. If I looked up I knew that my father’s eyes would be bloodshot and enraged and that the weird lumpy vein on his temple would be pulsating wildly like it was about to burst.

  But I didn’t look up.

  I’d learnt many years ago as a young boy that I never looked Father in the eye. Never.

  Not unless I wanted the beating of a lifetime that would bruise my behind so badly that it would stop me riding my bike in the garden for at least a week. Riding my bike within the garden fences was the only time I was allowed to leave the confines of the house, and as such, it was precious to me and not something to be toyed with.

  Don’t look up.

  Thinking about it, I couldn’t actually remember the last time I’d looked anyone directly in the eye. Not my father, mother, teachers, or even the boys in my class. It simply wasn’t allowed at home so I’d extended the habit to all areas of my life. Not that the boys at school mattered, they all thought I was a freak anyway and avoided me like a plague victim.

  The exception to the rule was my little brother Nicholas. I often looked Nicholas in the eye when I was trying to calm him down and stop him crying after one of Father’s beatings. Which was basically every evening in those days. For whatever reason poor Nicholas always seemed to get it worse than I did, but while I was powerless to stop my father’s onslaughts I made it my duty to be there to pick Nicholas up afterwards.

  Clenching my teeth, I watched as my father unbuckled his belt and slid it from the loops of his trousers. I didn’t need to ask what was coming next, that much was obvious, all I could do was thank my lucky stars that father was wearing the broad brown belt today and not the narrow black one. The black one hurt so much more.

  The black one was usually saved for Nicholas.

  I would beg my father to use the black belt on me instead of my younger brother, but my requests were always met with derision. ‘That boy needs discipline more than you. You understand that I’m doing this for your own good to help you understand the world. Nicholas just screams like a big baby and lashes out at me. Biggest fucking mistake of my life, that kid. Needs a fucking cane, not just a belt,’ my father often muttered.

  Somehow, over the many years that I endured the beatings I came to believe some of what my father said, not the things about Nicholas being bad, I would never believe anything bad about my baby brother, but the words about myself. Maybe I did need to be taught right from wrong; maybe my father was simply doing this for my own good. I learnt to respect the relationship with my father, and I suppose I almost regarded the older man with a reverent respect for how he controlled everything within the sphere of our home.

  He controlled everything. I wanted to be like that.

  Chapter Five – Stella

  An insatiable bout of nerves kicked in to my stomach at approximately 1.37 p.m. the following day when my phone rang and I received the results of my tests. Up until this point, I had managed to forget about that evening’s planned meeting with the sexy Adonis that was Nathaniel Jackson. Well, not forget so much, but push it to the back of my mind so I could at least pretend to be a normally functioning human and do something productive with my day.

  The nurse was very sweet on the phone, patiently explaining everything, and as expected I got an all clear. Once I had hung up my heart began to hammer in my chest, something which seemed to be happening quite a lot lately.

  It was really happening. Tonight I was meeting Nathaniel Jackson, my proposed dominant, also known as my ‘bad boy incarnate’, in the privacy of his apartment. Who knew what might happen …

  ‘Oh my God!’ came a shrill shriek from down the corridor, interrupting the start of my fantasy. ‘Was that him calling? Was it? I wanted you to put him on speaker phone so I could hear the sexy voice you were telling me about!’ Kenny, my flatmate, came dashing into the lounge flushed from the exertion of running down the three-foot long corridor, and then skidded to a halt by me as he doubled over to catch his breath in a style that was typically dramatic, and typically Kenny. God, he was such a drama queen.

  ‘No, it was just my test results coming through. He’s not going to call me, we’ve already arranged the details for tonight,’ I explained in a tone that was far calmer than I felt.

  ‘True,’ Kenny agreed, standing upright again and suddenly looking no worse off for his run. ‘You can’t disapprove of my enthusiasm, Stella, my love life’s so dull that I’m living vicariously through you, sweetie,’ he said with a dimpled grin that made his goatee beard wiggle.

  I raised my eyebrows at him. Since we had started sharing a flat together two years ago Kenny had been through more men than I could ever count; his love life was anything but dull.

  My eyebrows rose even higher as I watched him grab a bottle of brown liquid from the kitchen counter and swig from it.

  ‘Ugh, Kenny, what the hell is that?’ I asked, wincing at the disgusting gunk in the bottle that closely resembled something I’d dredged up from the bottom of a pond when studying geography at school.

  ‘I’m on a new liquid diet, vegetable smoothies only,’ he informed me primly. ‘This one is parsnip, beetroot, and …’ His eyes went to the ceiling as he tried to recall the ingredients. ‘I can’t remember, but apparently it’s very good for speeding up my metabolism and increasing weight loss,’ he informed me airily taking another swig then holding the drink out to me.

  Grimacing, I gingerly sniffed the bottle before gagging. Ugh, forget pond bottoms, it smelt like something you might find decomposing in a long lost rubbish bin. Kenny was always on some new fad diet, not that he needed to lose weight, but the contents of that bottle smelt truly grim. ‘And it’s good?’ I enquired warily.

  ‘Nah, tastes like crap,’ Kenny said dismissively, making me snort with laughter. ‘Anyway, stop trying to change the subject away from lover boy, I still can’t believe you didn’t get a picture of him to show me,’ he grumbled with a pout, tilting his hip out and resting on the kitchen counter.

  ‘Yeah, and exactly how would I have managed that, Kenny?’ I asked with a grin, trying to imagine pulling out a camera and asking Nathan – Mr Intense and Moody – to ‘say cheese’ for a picture.

  ‘By telling him that your gay flat mate needs to check him out and make sure he’s hot enough for you before you bed him,’ Kenny replied swiftly with a challenging lift of his brow.

  Bed him. Oh God, I was going to be bedding Nathaniel Jackson at some point in the very near future. The thought suddenly hit me with such force that I felt quite light headed and had to grab onto Kenny for support as my legs went rubbery below me.

  ‘Whoa! Easy, girl!’ he said, holding me up and leading me over to one of the stools before fetching me a glass of water with a worried expression on his face.

  ‘God, I can’t believe I’m doing this,’ I murmured, placing my head into my hands to try and steady my spinning brain. My stomach suddenly felt like it was promptly going to rid itself of my sushi lunch and I was fairly sure that I was now sweating profusely.

  Turning to Kenny I punched him in the arm, hard. ‘More to the point, I can’t believe you b
loody well talked me into it!’ I mean seriously, what kind of friend persuades their mate to go to a sex club and pick up a dominant? One look at Kenny and his outrageously tight jeans and small pink waistcoat gave me my answer. A friend with absolutely no morals when it came to sex; a friend just like Kenny.

  Taking several deep breaths I calmed myself enough to clear the dizzy spell that was rushing through my head and my sushi thankfully stayed intact. Ugh, raw fish floating in the toilet bowl would not have been a good start to the afternoon.

  Glancing at the kitchen clock, I noted that I had about five hours left before my meeting with Nathan. Just five hours. No doubt they would pass in the blink of an eye given my current state of agitation.

  I was getting myself worked up over nothing – tonight was simply a meeting to discuss the terms of our proposed agreement, so no sexual interactions would be happening, would they? Allowing my eyes to close for a second I briefly indulged in a few moments fantasising about just how exhilarating intimate situations with a man as overtly masculine as Nathan would be. Very exhilarating, I bet. Gosh, it had been a while since I’d been to bed with a man, let alone one as sexy as Nathan, and an involuntary shudder of desire ran through me at the thought.

  Kenny must have seen my little quiver because his grin widened and I flushed as bright red as the Comic Relief nose stuck to the fridge door. I needed to distract myself, and Kenny, who was now giving me and my blush a rather odd look, so I dragged him into my bedroom to plan my outfit in advance. Once my clothing choices were settled – black skirt, silk blouse, and knee-high boots – Kenny also persuaded me to call my beauty salon for an emergency leg, underarm, and bikini wax even though I repeatedly insisted I wouldn’t be having sex tonight.

  ‘Think like a boy scout,’ Kenny said with a smirk, but his random statement totally confused me. What the hell did scouts have to do with leg waxes? Seeing my puzzled expression, Kenny chuckled. ‘Always be prepared!’ he said with a wink as he pushed me out the door towards the beauticians.

  Chapter Six – Nathan

  I was pacing my apartment so impatiently that I had practically cut a track in the carpet by my fireplace. My personally sourced and very expensive Italian carpet, which probably deserved far better treatment. I grimaced and on a growl moved my pacing area towards the more durable wooden flooring near the windows instead.

  Stella wasn’t late for our meeting, but for the last two hours I’d felt like a caged tiger. I’d deliberately opted to be without a submissive for nearly six months now, but the anticipation of my upcoming meeting with the inexperienced Stella was literally driving me to distraction with the possibilities it presented. The possibilities she presented.

  When the doorbell finally rang, I had to resist the temptation to rush across the lounge and rip the fucking thing from its hinges. Instead I paused by the fireplace, gripped the mantle, and repeated my personal mantra in my head to help me reign in my faltering control that was usually so rigidly in place. No one can control me. I am in ultimate control.

  Feeling calmer now, I donned my impenetrable front once again and opened the door, briefly allowing myself to meet Stella’s wide but confident blue gaze for the sake of politeness. I would have to explain my issue with eye contact at some point this evening, otherwise she was bound to notice and question me on it and I really fucking hated it when people did that. Mind you, most people were too intimidated by me to question it these days; perhaps Stella would be the same.

  A smirk curved my lip as I ran my gaze down her appearance. I decided that my memories of Stella from last night hadn’t done her justice, nowhere close – even with her hair pinned up and just the barest touch of make up on her face she really was exceptionally pretty, and just like last night my cock decided to twitch its approval. Frowning, I shifted my stance slightly; evidently, my ‘ultimate control’ didn’t extend to that part of my anatomy when Stella was around.

  ‘Good evening Stella, come in,’ I said, pointedly ignoring the beginnings of an erection. I am in control, I reminded myself, not Stella and certainly not my God damn crotch. Settling myself again I stood back to allow her to enter before guiding her to the sofa where I had a bottle of red wine waiting and a notepad ready to jot down the finer points of our agreement.

  ‘I assume you also got the call with the results of your tests? All clear like me?’ I asked crisply as I placed down the print out of my results before uncorking the wine. Stella nodded, pulling her own results sheet from her handbag and then briefly passing her gaze over my paperwork. From the corner of my eye I noticed how Stella repeatedly watched me when she thought I wasn’t looking. It pleased me immensely to think that she might be as affected by me as I was by her.

  ‘Wine?’ Stella confirmed her response with a small silent nod, accepting the glass I offered her. I noticed that unlike my steady fingers Stella’s hand was trembling and a sense of masculine pride swept through me at the realisation that it was me causing her to shake.

  Once we both had a drink I sat down, probably closer together than Stella might have expected, but I found myself needing to be within her personal space, something rare for me that I think surprised myself as much as it did her.

  After taking a sip of wine and finding it very much to my liking I decided to get straight to the point of our evening. ‘To summarise the reason for our meeting, you have expressed a wish to enter a sexual relationship as a submissive partner, yes?’ Stella nodded jerkily. Her silence was starting to annoy me now, I had enjoyed the sexy tone of her voice last night and wanted to hear more of it, but apparently she was intent on staying quiet for the time being.

  Pushing aside her lack of voice, I continued, ‘Good, therefore as an experienced dominant in this meeting I will advise you with what I believe to be suitable limitations or expectations for our time together, but should you wish to add anything please do so.’ After a pause, I looked at her again. ‘If what I suggest makes you change your mind about our arrangement you must inform me immediately.’

  Stella briefly chewed on her bottom lip before nodding her agreement. Bloody silent nods. I was going to order her to speak in a minute just so I could hear the husky, timid whisper that she had used last night when she was nervous. It had been fucking arousing, that whisper. I wanted to hear it again. Needed to.

  ‘To satisfy both our needs it would be best if you stayed here some nights, perhaps just weekends to start with, maybe more if we are both finding the arrangement mutually agreeable. You will have time to work and relax on your own, but staying here would make meeting for our sessions much easier. When you are here, you may treat the apartment as if it were your own, feel free to use the gym, watch the television, whatever pleases you. The only exception is my office; that room is off limits.’ Once again, she nodded and I grated my teeth in growing frustration.

  ‘So, shall we start with Friday night to Monday morning?’ I suggested before briefly meeting her gaze and seeing Stella nod again. She was obviously nervous, that much was clear, but come on, speak damn it!

  ‘We won’t see each other outside of our set times unless there is a good reason or accidental meeting. That will make it easier to maintain our boundaries. I don’t want either of us to confuse what we have together as a loving relationship, that’s not what it will be. It is simply a mutually agreeable partnership … but having said that we will be exclusive, neither of us will partake in any form of relationship with anyone else either. This part is very important; I will not share you with any other man. When we meet each weekend I want your pleasure to be heightened by the fact that you have had to wait all week, is that clear and agreeable for you?’

  I saw Stella about to nod again and my irritation finally snapped, my voice taking on an autocratic tone as I added my next command. ‘If you answer me you need to do so audibly. No more ill-mannered nodding. Understand?’

  ‘Y-yes,’ she stuttered. Finally, she speaks! Only one word, but it was a start I suppose. ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled and I coul
d see in her face that Stella was slightly taken aback by my demanding tone. I almost smiled; if she was expecting something different from me then she was sadly mistaken, I was a dominant through and through, always had been, always would be, and as such I didn’t mince my words.

  While we were on that subject, I decided to clear up a few other things. ‘I’m a naturally serious man, frequently bad-tempered. Don’t expect amusing conversation or romance, that’s not what I’m about. If I’m in a bad mood you may well be on the receiving end of it, I don’t want or expect you to try and cheer me up, just deal with it OK?’ My voice sounded a little harsher than I had meant, which was probably due to my frustration at her lack of speech and the growing arousal I was experiencing from talking about our proposed agreement. I watched as Stella’s hand took on a light tremble as she sipped her wine and cursed myself for being overly harsh.

  ‘Sure, whatever,’ she said giving me a tiny tempting taste of her velvety tone, but although her voice was relatively calm, I could hear an underlying quiver of anxiety that matched her tremble.

  Christ, she was such a newbie. Should I play nice and give her an option to get out now? Although the selfish part of me didn’t want to, I relented and decided to offer her a chance to leave if she had changed her mind.

  ‘I thrive on complete control over all aspects of my life – my job, my staff, and my submissive. If that’s not something that interests you, Stella, you need to leave now.’ Almost expecting her to get up and walk out, Stella took me completely by surprise by merely crossing her legs and looking back at me expectantly.

  Well, well, I had not expected that. Perhaps she was braver than I’d given her credit for. Raising an eyebrow at her casual brush-off of my warning, I continued with the details of our living arrangements. ‘I usually cook my evening meals but you may be expected to prepare food on some of the nights you are here, would that be suitable?’ I enquired, getting back to the questions that needed discussing and hoping for more than a nod or one word answer.