Lace Touches (Devious Jonases Book 2) Read online

  Footsteps sounded. The door snapped closed.

  Then I heard nothing.

  Did he leave?

  I braved a peek through the clothes and didn't see him. He'd wait me out, let me come out on my own. Sir was nice, and polite and, all around, a kinky gentlemen. Who was I? A single mom, trying her best not to disappoint her kid. Melanie would do better with Sir. I searched the rack for clothes and found a black lace dress. It would fit me. I pulled up my shirt, my arms stretched above my head.

  A hand captured both my wrists. I yelped, as Sir dragged me out of the closet. He wore a black suit, a lilac tie slung over his shoulder, and no shoes. I stared at his toes. In the hotel, Sir had always been dressed, and seeing his feet made the situation intimate. He forced my head up, tucked a stray hair behind my ear. "Stay here." He released me and leaned on the horse, his legs crossed at the ankles. He thrust his hands into his pockets. I stood there in my bra, holding my shirt between my hands.

  "Your name is Kate," he said.

  "Yes, Sir."

  "Yes will do for this conversation."

  I nodded.

  "How's Guff?"

  He wanted to know about his dog. I could talk about this dog. "He's a good boy."

  "He chewed my sofa yesterday."

  "I'm very sorry about that, Mr. Jones. I only stepped outside—"

  "Tyrone."

  "Yes, Tyrone. I only stepped outside for a phone call. Personal but important and only five minutes. Guff did some chewing, but I think it's minor. Fixable. I put him on timeout."

  "Dog's have timeouts?"

  "Guff has a timeout."

  "Explain this timeout to me."

  "Well, I tell him he shouldn't have chewed on his daddy's sofa—”

  "New, imported sofa."

  "His daddy's new, imported sofa," I repeated and gulped. "And that his nanny couldn't possibly afford to replace the new, imported sofa. I walk him to the corner, and make him face it and sit there for five minutes."

  "Does it work?"

  "No. Nah. Guff doesn't sit. His tail wags, and he spins in circles. He’s still a puppy, so—you know—they chew things."

  “Which is why I hired you.”

  “Right.”

  "So what should I do about my damaged sofa?"

  "Have it reupholstered."

  Sir’s eyes narrowed. "Thank you, Miss Kate. And what should I do with dog sitters who don't do their job?"

  I hung my head. "I'm sorry about the sofa."

  Sir walked to me and hooked a finger under my chin. "Wrong answer. What I should do with the bad dog sitter is put her on timeout." His lips tilted, and he bent to whisper in my ear, "Get with the scene, Kate." He kissed my neck. Shivers ran down my body. His lips didn't leave my neck; they trailed to my collar bone.

  I gripped his shoulders. "A scene?"

  "Mm-hm. It's perfect. You've been a bad girl."

  "I haven't been bad."

  "I say you have, so you have."

  "Yes, Sir."

  "There you go." He retreated back to the spanking horse and looked around the room, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Never used this room before. This is gonna be fun. I'm thinking a cane."

  Oh hell no. Later this afternoon, when I helped my kid with his homework, I needed to sit on my ass. "I'm asking for a paddle."

  "Maybe. Depends on your dress. Which dress did you choose?"

  "The black lace one."

  "Wear the dress, then stand in the corner and chant your real name. Melanie’s all but history."

  I lost my night job. My disappointment probably showed on my face, because Sir said, "You can break the scene at any time. You know how this works. What’s the matter?"

  "I need that job."

  "You don't need that job, you need a better day job. We will discuss your job placement after I've fucked you at least twice. Get in the closet, change, then get in the corner."

  Reluctant, my feet didn't move.

  "Go!"

  I scampered to the closed, stripped, and pulled over the dress. It clung to my body and barely covered my ass. Of course, no panties was a given. I didn't need instructions, but I knew I needed stockings. "The stockings?"

  "Don't got any."

  Barefoot, I found my way to the nearest corner, where I braced my hands on the wall, hung my head, and chanted my name until a hand fisted into my hair. He yanked, and my head followed, a gasp of pain escaping my lips. Sir wore a leather mask. Only his plush lips showed. I licked mine when he tugged my hair harder, right before he kissed me.

  Melanie's hard limit—poof. Gone.

  The kiss was unexpected. I wasn't prepared, and my knees wobbled at the taste of him. Our tongues stroked, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, and I moaned into his mouth. I could make out with him all day. Which was how I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t stop either.

  Sir broke the kiss first and spoke with his lips touching mine. "I want to know if you've had a more recent blood test."

  "I showed you all my blood work and haven't had sex with anyone else since. I'm clean, but I'm not on the pill or hormone-based prevention. Those things make me crazy."

  "You've been my girl for a while, then?"

  I said nothing.

  He yanked my hair.

  "Yes, Sir."

  "And I deduct that you want to use condoms now."

  "Yes, Sir."

  He patted my cheek, then slapped it and gripped my jaw. "Don't make me read between the lines again. I could be wrong. Yes?"

  "Yes, Sir." I felt myself wet. He pecked my lips, while his hand traveled to my breast. He squeezed, and I yelped at the pain and the lace on the dress scraping against my sensitive nipple.

  He tugged my nipple and produced training clamps from his pocket. The dress ripped, leaving enough room for my nipples to come out. Sir clamped them, and I squealed at the pain, then groaned as he tucked the clamps' chain between my teeth.

  He slapped my bottom. "Stand with your legs shoulder-width apart. Brace your elbows on the wall. This’s gonna sting."

  A slash of a whip through the air came from the back. Then a sting on my asscheek. Ouch. A crop. I groaned and spread my legs a bit wider, though I wanted to rub my arousal between my thighs. I hoped Sir would flick between my legs. He didn't. Instead, he hit my bottom at the same place three times. Before I caught myself, my hand flew out and rubbed.

  A hand fisted my hair and yanked back. "Kate's a bit adventurous. Should I hog-tie you? Hmm?" He pulled the clamp's chain, and I howled as one snapped off. "Oh no. No adventure."

  "Are you sure?" He twisted the tortured nipple, and I gritted my teeth. A soft breath brushed my ear. "Hands off, or I can hurt your hand. Ten more for the rubbing puts you at fifty. What do you say?"

  "Thank you, Sir."

  "Mm-hm. See how I'm nice? Could be until my hand tires. Up to you. Ready?"

  "Green".

  "That a girl."

  I bared the first ten. For the next ten, I started drifting off, and the following hits I wet so much, I began begging him for a sting over my pussy. Instead of hitting my wet opening, he tapped it gently, teasing and playing. His fingers replaced the crop soon, one inside my back hole and one inside my pussy. He pumped me from behind, and I pushed back against him, to find the hardness between his legs. I wanted to take him into my mouth, and I told him so, but I didn't get his cum.

  A gel cooled off my back hole. Sir snuck a hand around my hip and rubbed my clit with furry, while the tip of his hard cock probed my asshole. Under his expert fingers, I wiggled, seeking my pleasure, too flushed with arousal to care if he fucked my ass or my pussy. In the back, my hole stretched, trying to acclimate his width, and Sir cursed, removed my nipple clamp.

  I breathed through the orgasm threatening to spill without permission and closed my legs.

  He pushed inside my ass.

  I gaped, a silent scream, and took comfort in his large palm warm over my lower belly, his hard body enveloping me in a cocoon, and the kisses he placed
on my neck as he told me what a good little anal whore I made. Some women didn't do names, but I did, and him calling me names was my undoing.

  I panted and said, "This little whore needs to come."

  "Why?"

  "To please her Sir."

  "And if Sir doesn't want her to come?"

  "This little whore will beg."

  "How does my dick feel?"

  "Gigantic."

  "It's not even halfway inside. In the future, you can look forward to the rest of it."

  In the future. This made me smile. Sir took notice and pumped faster, hit something inside that made my pussy flutter. Oh boy. I had to come. I begged, and when he didn't respond, I held onto my orgasm and came only after I heard him bellow my name.

  Kate.

  Chapter 4

  Tyrone

  Spent, I barely held my little whore as her knees weakened. I braced a hand on the wall above her head. She hooked her hands on it, as if holding onto dear life. My dick inside her ass twitched once more. If someone had told me my whore would walk into my house and wait for me inside my playroom, I'd refer them to my shrink. Entire weeks spent daydreaming and planning on how I'd get her from whore to girlfriend without losing her, and I never came up with this situation.

  I’d lucked out. In the business for the money, whores were working girls, not girlfriends. Not even lovers. Kate was in it for the money, and now I wanted to know if she were in it also for me. If she wanted money, she’d bill me for this. Perhaps she'd leave her dog-sitting job and never return. Locking her in my house sounded great.

  I bent and kissed her shoulder, then withdrew and slipped off the condom. I flicked the rubber into the bin, then sighed and buried my nose into her hair. Orange-blossom shampoo.

  I wanted to lick her all over.

  In a very creepy way, I wanted to keep her locked up down here in my dungeon, so that I could come and violate her ass and pussy whenever I wanted. If I told her my intentions, she might run away screaming, so I said, "I made coffee."

  Kate chuckled. "I didn't know how to work the machine."

  "I'll teach you. Wanna come upstairs?"

  She spun around and faced me. Man, she was pretty. Her big brown eyes were wide, her long brown hair was mused, all out of the tight ponytail she came in with, and when she rose on her toes to peck my lips, I knew I had her. Kissing was a hard limit. I took a chance and broke our agreement. I couldn't help it, and I'd need to apologize, even if it wasn’t harmful. Hard limits should be respected, and I knew better. For now, however, I smiled like a high-school kid who just a got his first blowjob.

  "Sir?"

  "Yeah, baby. What is it?"

  "Maybe you could find me a blanket."

  Tyrone, you dumbass. "Of course." I looked around the room, found no blankets, no couches, no soft cuddly things of any kind, so I picked her up and carried her upstairs into the living room, where my dog happily growled at the dildo on the floor. I plopped Kate on the couch and ordered her to stay. Both dog and Kate stayed until I returned with espressos and a blanket my cousin’s kid left at my house last time I hosted a family barbeque. It was pink and half the size of an adult blanket.

  I sat down next to Kate, wrapped her up as best as I could, then moved her onto my lap. "I cuddle," I proclaimed. "So you know."

  "I imagine you do."

  "I just don't bring subs to my house. Usually, I go to Club Cage. Ever been there?"

  "No."

  "You'll go this Saturday."

  Kate’s lips tipped up. "Yes, Sir.” Guff sprinted out of the living room. "Should I worry about Guff chewing on the dildo?"

  "No. You should worry about my new sofa he chewed yesterday."

  "But I only stepped away for five minutes."

  "Ruined my new sofa."

  Kate scrunched up her nose. "I didn't think he could damage anything in five minutes."

  "That makes two of us."

  Kate

  Embarrassed, I cleared my throat. "I'm sorry."

  "Brand new sofa. Haven't even unwrapped it."

  "I feel terrible. Are you gonna fire me?"

  "My mother brought that sofa from their house, and I hate the damn thing. Only needed a reason to throw it out.”

  “Oh my god. You're evil.”

  He squeezed my hip. “Called you in early today because I wanted to ask you to dog sit in my house for a week, when I go on vacation." He kissed my neck. Shivers ran down my body. He trailed his lips up and nibbled my earlobe.

  I gripped his shoulders. "I can't stay here for a week. I have... obligations at home."

  Sir paused and straightened. "Are you married?"

  "No."

  "Boyfriend?"

  "No."

  "Mom, Dad, grandparents who can't take care of themselves for a week?"

  "No."

  He picked up his phone. "Hello," he said and attempted to say much more, but someone on the other line must've interrupted him, because he groaned. The person spoke for a minute, before Tyrone said, "Dylan, quit yappin’ at me. I found a date for the cruise, I'll email you the details for the reservation." A date? My crushed heart must've showed on my face, because he kissed my cheek. “Her name’s Kate.”

  Wait. What? "Excuse me. It's not me going on the cruise, is it?" I said.

  "No, it's some other Kate I know." He winked.

  "But I can't."

  Tyrone ignored me. "There will be three of us," he told his brother.

  I waved my hand. "Woohoo, there. I can't go. I have obligations."

  "How old’s your kid?"

  I paused, pinched my lips.

  Tyrone raised an eyebrow.

  "He's seven, but I can't introduce him—”

  "Seven," he told Dylan, then said to me, "My brother says that's great, because cousins are going and they got Shawna. She's five. Good luck to your kid. We'll have a blast."

  Click.

  I blinked at him. "Are you crazy?"

  "Only about you."

  He flirted. Melanie would say something inappropriate, but Kate was a mom. "I'm not sure what to say. Jason is not ready to meet men."

  "He won't be meeting men. He’ll meet a man, and not until later."

  "Jason has school, and I can't leave him."

  "Jason doesn't have school during the summer, which is when we're going on a cruise."

  "But that's more than half a year from now."

  "Kate Wapp, by then, I'm gonna marry you."

  Well, damn. Sir wanted a real woman, and not a fantasy. He would also give my son and me some space. Wait until I'm comfortable enough to introduce the two. Granted, Tyrone could be a bit overassertive, but his take-control attitude worked for me. Having had to take care of my son and myself for years, I didn't mind having a man take over our care.

  Should I say yes now or later? I opted for later but kissed him back now.

  Afterword

  Hi! Thank you for reading. What’s next? Leash Binds and you can read the preview now.

  Leash Binds

  Dylan Jonas, the dominant I'd been avoiding for two weeks, walked away from his table, heading for the bar. As he shouldered his way through the crowds on the main floor of club Cage, I contemplated where to go, where to hide. Panic rising, I looked around the full bar, half-made vanilla shake in my hand. It was a leather-mask night. I could pretend I didn't recognize him and... and... nothing. I was still stuck at work. Damn him. He never came on Fridays, because his youngest brother frequented Cage on Fridays.

  Dylan sat at the bar and threw a mane of dreads over his shoulder. He slipped the leather mask off his face, hazel eyes on me.

  I smiled.

  He smiled back, not recognizing me. Since I wore a sad puppy mask and had switched shifts with my twin sister, to avoid him, I decided to deny my very existence. Hardly anyone could tell us apart, so I’d pretend I was my sister—something we hadn't done since middle school. So far, so good. I squared my shoulders, certain he didn't recognize me.

 
He narrowed his eyes, head titled left.

  Uh oh. I chickened out and ducked.

  Above me, Sam, the owner of club Cage, greeted Dylan. "You Jonases should have a family reunion here."

  "Invite my vanilla parents?" Dylan asked.

  "Invite your cousin. What was her name again?"

  "Married."

  "Not that one. The other one, with the pink hair."

  "Also married."

  "Aren't they all?" Sam looked down at me, raised an eyebrow. "Hello there, pup. Are we playing, or what are we doing here?"

  "I'm just... A spill." I got my rag and wiped the clean door of the mini fridge. Kept polishing the metal. Blew on it a little.

  "There are twelve people at the bar, plus a Jonas boy,” Sam said. “Drama is inevitable. In other words, we're busy."

  The Jonases helped out with the club. They sponsored events, which got Sam new equipment. They had their own private rooms and even a penthouse suite above the club. Sam joked with the Jonases, but he also made sure they felt at home around here.

  I gulped and braved my way up, eyes on the floor.

  "Nessa, my sweet puppy," Dylan said. "Where the fuck have you been?" Read More…

  About the Author

  Misty is a pen name of a dystopian romance author who writes fun, sexy & short contemporary reads that won't leave you hanging in the end. Meet the hero of the next in the series in a bonus epilogue for Lace Touches HERE.

  Meet me at

  mistykayn.com