Tymber Dalton - The Denim Dom

“I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing after the other night.”

“Good. I’m good. I actually had a sit-down with Tony Sunday night.”

“Oh? How’d it go?”

“He seems like a really nice guy. Very patient with my questions. Thank you for introducing me to him.”

“Awesome. Listen, I know you work, but Leah, Tilly, and I usually get together on Thursday mornings for a girls’ day. We’re going up to visit Clarisse this week to take her out to brunch to celebrate the baby. We wanted to know if maybe you could get the time off to come with us?”

It was on the tip of Shayla’s tongue to say no. That she had too much to do, too many things on her plate. But it would be a lie because she knew Bill Melling encouraged his staff to take exactly these kinds of opportunities if it meant their assignments would benefit.

“Let me check with my boss in the morning, but I think I can make it.”

“Great! Just send me a text and I’ll let you know when and where to meet up with us. You can ride with us if you want.”

Something about Loren’s hopeful tone stayed any hesitation on Shayla’s part. “Sure. That’d be great. Thanks.”

Shayla got off the phone and stared at her laptop, where she’d opened a blank document. With the pot pie growing cold, she leaned forward and typed.

Last weekend, a group of friends gathered around a table at a local restaurant and discussed their week, their jobs, their lives, graciously inviting this writer into their inner circle. Nothing distinguished them from anyone else in the restaurant.

Except that an hour later, after dinner ended, they all met up at a local private BDSM dungeon club to continue their evening.

She grabbed her beer and took a long swallow as she reread the opening. Slowly nodding, she set her beer aside and started typing again.

Two hours later she had a thousand words, a cold pot pie, and her beer buzz was a thing of the past. Happy with the rough draft, she carried the plate and empty beer bottle to the kitchen.

Her feet stopped cold at the sight of the letter on her counter.

Dammit. I really need to get the fuck over that.

She dumped the trash and scooped the letter and check up. The check she stuck in her checkbook after filling out a deposit slip for it. She’d drop it by the bank in the morning. The envelope she ripped into tiny pieces and threw away.

The letter…

She left it folded but couldn’t bring herself to rip it up.

Instead, she shoved it in her kitchen junk drawer and slammed it closed before heading to her bedroom.

Maybe it was the beer, or perhaps James’ letter had triggered it, but Shayla found her sleep plagued by sexy, seductive dreams.

Mostly of Tony Daniels tying her to a bench and using a flogger and his hands on her bare ass before forcing a vibrator between her legs to make her orgasm. Knowing it was a dream didn’t lessen the impact on her. Various scenarios flashed through her brain at warp speed. One minute he had her spread out, naked, on the suspension bar while he used a singletail to raise welts on her ass. The next, she was spread-eagle on her back while he used a large dildo to fuck her dripping cunt.

She awoke Wednesday morning dazed and horny and without enough time to try to get herself off before she had to get ready for work.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

“But you know, if you don’t think I should be out of the office that long—”

“Nonsense,” Bill said. “I think it’s a great idea. They obviously like and trust you or they wouldn’t have invited you along.” He stared at Shayla. She’d snagged his attention upon arriving at the office that morning, wanting to get it out of the way as soon as possible. “You’re a big girl. You don’t need me to make your decisions for you. As your boss, I’m fine with you taking the day to go with them. If you’re looking for a reason not to go, that’s on your shoulders.”

Shayla swallowed. In the sober light of day, that was exactly what she was looking for. The journalist in her rationalized spending a day candidly talking with the women would likely bring insights for several articles.

Some deep part of her hesitated. She knew her dreams the night before played no small role in her newfound reticence.

Her alarm had awakened her just as her dream-self began to scream with pleasure, and she wondered as disorientation faded if she’d actually started to climax in her sleep.

The fact that she’d discovered her panties were soaked contributed to that possibility.

The dream unsettled her on a number of levels. That she’d yearned for the freedom to let go to someone she trusted with her health and safety. That she felt viscerally attracted to the hard edge in the man’s green eyes as he pointed at the floor and she sank to her knees.

That her heart raced at the feel of a heavy leather collar being buckled around her throat.

Unfortunately, the dream wouldn’t vanish by the time she finished her first cup of coffee, as most of her dreams usually did. This dream tenaciously hung on, solidifying in her mind the more she tried not to think about it.

“Shay?”

Bill Melling stared at her from the other side of his desk.

“Oh, sorry.”

“You look lost.”

She slowly nodded. “I’m beginning to feel a little that way.”

“The offer to reassign is still open.”

Despite her dreams the night before, she shook her head. “No. I’m going to see this through to the end. They’re nice people who’ve agreed to open up to me and share an intimate part of their lives. I’d rather not pawn it off on someone else at this point.”

He smiled. “Then have a good day tomorrow.”

Shayla returned to her desk and texted Loren. Within a minute, she had a reply text from Loren with the time and address.

Accompanied by a smiley face.

* * *

Dream Tony returned to her that night. She knelt on the floor at his feet as he buckled a black leather collar around her neck and snapped a leash to it.

“Come.”

Without hesitation, she crawled on all fours behind him, feeling her pussy tingling with anticipation at what was to come.

Hopefully, her.

He led her to a bench like the one at the club and bound her to it, hand and foot. A blindfold slipped over her eyes.

As her pulse spiked, she felt a hand between her legs, fingers unerringly finding and stroking her clit, working harder, faster.

“Why don’t you come for me?” he whispered into her ear.

The fingers wouldn’t stop, relentlessly pushing her toward the edge of climax until, finally, her body arched…

And she awoke to find her hand buried inside her panties as the last vestiges of her orgasm waned.

Gasping for breath, she tried to swim out of the hold of sleep on her system. As what happened finally sank home, she let out a harsh laugh. It was still four o’clock in the morning and she suspected she wouldn’t get back to sleep.

Damn, I need to get laid.

* * *

After her restless night, Shayla was anxious for a distraction. Any distraction. She was grateful for the chance to spend the day with the women. They met at Loren’s house before piling into Tilly’s SUV to make the trek north to Pinellas County, where Clarisse lived.

Shayla, sitting in the backseat with Loren, had a chance to get to see some of her adopted state as they headed north on I-75. When they reached the Sunshine Skyway Bridge, Shayla sucked in a breath. “Wow. That’s beautiful.”

“Want me to pull over for a minute?” Tilly asked. “There are rest stops at either end. Great views.”

“No, that’s okay.” The waters of the Gulf of Mexico and Tampa Bay met at the bridge. Today the wind was low, the water looking nearly glassy except for low rollers and the occasional boat wake breaking the surface.

“You’ve never been here before?” Loren asked.

“No. First time I’d ever been to Florida was when I came down to interview for the job in person. And then I was too busy, between that and finding an apartment, to do any sightseeing.”

“Why did you decide to move to Florida?” Leah asked.

Why indeed? Hell, these women had been more than open with her. She suspected they would hold her confidence if anyone could.

Not to mention she’d seen them naked and vulnerable.

“Well, and I’d appreciate if this didn’t get spread around, but I needed a fresh start.” She took a deep breath and spilled the story, surprised at how relieved she felt at the end of the telling.

“You’re a better woman than I am,” Loren said. “I would have had his ass put under the jail.”

Shayla shrugged. “That wouldn’t have gotten me anywhere except saddled with the apartment and utilities and a long fight to get the credit card companies to forgive the debt and go after him. Where I am now, my monthly bills are nearly fifty percent cheaper, there’s no state income tax, he has paid back some of what he owes me, and I don’t have to worry about him showing up at my front door.”

“Well, there is that,” Tilly agreed. “Can’t say’s I blame you there.”

“What’d your parents say when you told them?” Loren asked.

“They were supportive. My dad wanted to go beat him up and wring his neck.”

“I like him,” Tilly snarked.

Shayla smiled. “Fortunately, they were safely up in Minneapolis and not in Cleveland. So James’ neck was safe. They didn’t like that I wanted to move all the way to Florida, but they did support me when I convinced them it was the best thing for my mental health.”

“How do you like Florida so far?” Leah asked.

“It’s different. Good different,” she added.

“Why the hell would he pay for porn?” Tilly pondered.

Leah looked at her. “Seriously, Til? That’s your question?”

Tilly shrugged. “Guy’s got to be pretty damn stupid to pay that much for porn when so much of it is readily available for free.” She glanced in the rearview mirror and made eye contact with Shayla. “I mean, yes, obviously it’s pretty shitty for him to rob you like that in the first place. But to me, that just piles stupidity onto his criminal asshattery.”

Shayla laughed. “I hadn’t thought about it like that. I guess you’re right. And I appreciate you letting me talk about this. All my friends and most of his wanted to kill him when they found out what he did. It’s nice to be able to just talk about it. I lost a couple of friends when I took him back the first time. I hadn’t told all of them what he’d done, just a few. They told me I was an idiot to forgive him then. I guess they were right. But I loved him. I didn’t think he’d do it again. I definitely didn’t think he’d rip me off the way he did. I didn’t know how badly he’d destroyed his credit the first time around.”

“Love makes us do things against our better judgment sometimes,” Tilly said. “And we all do stupid, silly stuff in our lives in the name of love. And, eh, not to sound like a bitch, but you might want to get tested for STDs in case he’s lying about more than you know.”

“Oh, believe me, I already did that. I did that before I left Cleveland,” she said, remembering the humiliation she felt having to ask her doctor for the tests.

“Good. I mean, not good that you had to get it done, but good they were negative.”

Shayla smiled. “I know what you meant.”

Clarisse and her men lived in a small, upscale private gated community on a bayou in Tarpon Springs. When Shayla got out of the car and stared up at the large stilt home, she realized just how tiny her apartment was in comparison.

Their master bedroom is probably bigger than my apartment.

Tilly led the way upstairs, where Clarisse greeted them with smiles and hugs. “Ready for brunch?” Tilly asked her.

Clarisse patted her stomach. “The morning sickness has settled, so that’s a huge yes.” A tiny Yorkie ran into the foyer, where he screeched to a halt before he began barking.

“Bart! That’s not nice.” Clarisse scooped him up, quieting him immediately. “Sorry. He thinks he’s lord and master of the place and we humans are here to serve him.”

“Has he stolen any more butt plugs?” Tilly asked.

Shayla laughed. “What?”

Clarisse rolled her eyes. “We’ve lost more butt plugs to this little dog than I think we’ve even owned.” She set him back on the floor. “He’s a klepto. Don’t worry, he only steals clean ones. But I’m seriously beginning to wonder if some of our friends aren’t bringing butt plugs with them and sneaking them to him as a joke. I’ve found butt plugs stashed in his bed that I know we didn’t buy.” She directed her next comment to Shayla. “He likes them as chew toys.”