Which was why she avoided them, but looking at Tiffany she had to wonder what she’d cut herself off from. Tiff and Ally were her girls. And she hadn’t hesitated to make her opinion plain when Ally had screwed up. She’d told Ally she’d fucked up and that she was mad but she still loved her friend.
Again, Big Tag’s words seemed to float in, haunting her. Would she even call Ally and Tiff after she’d started her new job? Or would it be easier to let them go in favor of more superficial relationships?
“I’m scared of how much I feel for Eric,” she admitted quietly.
Tiffany clapped her hands together. “I knew it. I knew you were madly in love with him.”
“Not in love.” She wasn’t sure she had it in her anymore. Being in love was too much work, too much potential for disaster. “I like him. I care about him and I’m not sure how to ask for what I want.”
Tiffany grinned. “You say ‘hey, hot chef Dom, you should really tenderize this beef.’”
“She’s going to need a ride home,” Charlotte said. “Too bad her training Dom isn’t here. As for you, you need to be honest with Eric. It’s hard to openly talk about these things, but it’s important. Intimacy and sex are things most of us view as private and dirty and taboo. We’re so much happier as human beings when we acknowledge our needs and don’t try to fight them because they’re outside the norm. He won’t be shocked. He’ll like the fact that you’re talking to him.”
“He’ll definitely like the fact that she wants to have dirty sex with him,” Tiffany said with another giggle.
Her friend was cutting loose tonight and it worried Deena a little. Tiffany wasn’t the girl who got drunk at parties. She tended to be the one who looked after everyone else. If someone was going to make a scene at the boss’s party, it would be Jenni.
Deena sighed. It looked like talking to Eric was going to have to wait. “I’ll think about what you said, Charlotte. I better take this one home.”
Tiffany’s nose was a nice shade of red when she looked up at Deena. “I don’t need to go home. I’m partying.”
The very fact that she’d used the word “partying” gave Deena pause. Tiffany was a fun girl, but she didn’t party or overdo anything. She was a serious artist, more thoughtful than wild. “We can party at your place.”
She was going to feel like hell in the morning, and Deena wanted to be able to tell her friend that she hadn’t done anything embarrassing in front of the boss.
“Deena, I need to speak with you for a moment,” a deep voice said.
Shit. Tiffany might not be able to avoid the boss because Sean Taggart stepped into the room, and he seemed to be in full-on authoritative mode. His eyes were slightly narrowed, his shoulders squared off, and his voice deep. Was he pissed? “It’s all right. I’m going to take her home.”
“I don’t know why we should go home. All the beer is here,” Tiffany said, pushing her hair out of her face.
“I’ll have someone take her home. I think Sebastian was planning on leaving soon. He’ll take care of her,” Sean said. “You have something else you need to do.”
Sebastian seemed like a perfectly nice man, but Tiffany was her responsibility. “If you need me to help set up the buffet, I’m more than happy to do it, but she’s my friend. I have to make sure she’s all right.”
Sean stepped up and looked down at her. “I admire that, Deena, but Sebastian can handle her. You have something else to do and it won’t wait. Don’t worry about Tiffany. Sebastian will treat her well. He doesn’t put this out there often, but he’s a trained Dom and I would trust him with Grace.”
That was about as good a recommendation as Sean Taggart could give.
Tiffany managed to stand on wobbly feet. “I can take myself home.”
“No, you can’t,” Deena shot back.
“Deena, I need you to go upstairs, last door on the right,” Sean ordered in a tone that brooked no argument.
“Am I supposed to get something out of there?”
“Oh, you’ll definitely get something.” He put a hand on Tiffany’s arm to help steady her. “Come on, Tiff. Let’s get you home.”
Charlotte watched as Sean eased Tiffany out of the room. There was a small smile on her face that Deena could only describe as mischievous.
“What’s going on?” Deena asked, suspicion creeping in.
“Sometimes wishes get granted. Be careful though. Some wishes make our backsides ache.” Charlotte winked and Deena was left standing in the middle of an empty parlor. She glanced toward the stairs. There was nothing else to do. It wasn’t like she was going to walk away.
She started up the stairs and hoped curiosity was on her side.
CHAPTER SIX
Deena opened the door and felt her eyes widen immediately. Of all the things she’d expected to find, Eric standing there looking deliciously yummy without his shirt on wasn’t it. She supposed she’d expected some sort of practical joke. The guys she worked with were good at those.
There was no humor in the way Eric was looking at her now. He stood in the middle of the room, right in front of…was that a spanking bench? She glanced around feeling somewhat like a mouse who’d walked right into a trap. She was in a private playroom. Chef’s private playroom.
Why was she in Chef’s private playroom with Eric? Her Dom. Her mind was starting to work overtime. Yep, she was in a private, beautifully done torture chamber with a man who had the right to punish her.
She stared for a moment, trying to grasp what the hell was going on. Eric was standing there, his shirt off, all those gorgeous muscles glistening. “Hi. Uhm, are you supposed to give me something to take down to the party? Chef told me to come up here. Is he doing a demo? I kind of thought this was a PG party, what with Grace’s son being here and all.”
He stepped forward, his bare feet moving over the hardwoods. She thought for a moment that he was moving toward her, but he stepped around her, passing her and moving to the door. She heard the door close and the snick of a lock being set into place.
“The party is certainly PG,” he said, his voice a bit rough as he moved to stand in front of her. He was so tall. He towered over her, seemingly taking up all the space around them. “What goes on in here will be anything but. Now, Deena, it’s far past time for us to have a long discussion about what happens to submissives who lie to their Doms.”
“Lie?” She hadn’t lied to him since those first couple of days. Well, mostly. She didn’t tell him everything, but then he didn’t need to know the things she didn’t tell him. Maybe the best and easiest way out of all of this was to give him some truth in exchange. It was obvious to her that someone had talked about what happened last night. “I’m sorry. My stalker diner came in and he did try to grab my ass, but I handled him. It was fine.”
His eyes flared and she realized she’d made a mistake. “He did what?”
“That wasn’t what you were talking about?” She hadn’t lied about anything else. Even that had been a lie by omission.
“No, but I’ll add that to your punishment. I’m talking about the fact that you lied to me when you said you didn’t go to Master Ian and request a new Dom for your training period. You sat there and looked at me and lied. You said you had gone in there to take him his lunch and that was all you talked about. I happen to know that isn’t true. Unless you intend to tell me that Master Ian is the one who lied.”
She was not even going to go there. A smart girl knew when she was caught. If she thought Eric could get a little spanky, she didn’t even want to know what Master Ian would do to a sub who lied about him. The man had been an assassin at one point, if the rumors were true. “Nope. He did not lie. And I did take the man his lunch. I also had a very quick conversation with him about the possibility that you weren’t the right training Dom for me, though I have changed my mind since then.”
He stared down at her and if those gorgeous eyes of his had laser beams, she would have been dead then and there. “Don’t try my patience, Deena. And don’t think for a second that giving me big doe eyes is going to change my mind about punishing you. I told you that night I wouldn’t forget and that punishment was coming. Here’s the way this is going to go. You’re going to take off your clothes. You’re going to fold them neatly because you have a party to attend afterward. You will then move to the mirror where you will lean over and grab your ankles, presenting your ass for my punishment.”
“I’m going to do all those things? Any reason why I’m not using that very nice spanking bench?” Her voice was a little shaky, her hands already beginning a fine tremble because his voice was mesmerizing. This was not the happy, smiling Eric she was used to. This was not the man who held doors open for her and made sure she always locked herself inside her apartment before he would leave. This wasn’t the man who made her a plate after work every night, always making certain she got the best of whatever they’d made.
This was the Dom and he wasn’t a pushover.