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“No, I’d much rather she confront me with what she’s doing.”
Fritz smiled. “This is just my personal opinion, but sometimes subs need a little help.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you happen to have a time set up to play with her again?”
“As a matter of fact I do, next weekend.” It would be their last photography session. He thought back to the night before and how before they went to bed, everything seemed to be headed in the right direction.
He’d been momentarily stunned when she admitted she wanted to continue seeing him. He was surprised she didn’t pick his jaw up off the floor and hand it to him.
“We normally start at ten and go for as long as we want.” There was no way to know how long this last session would take. Sometime before Saturday, he needed to pull all the photos together to ensure he had what was needed for the book.
“I have a way to get unresponsive subs talking,” Fritz said. “If you want, I can outline it for you, or if you’d like a third, I’m willing to help.”
“Yes, I’d love to hear your thoughts.” He looked down at his desk and at the mess he called his calendar. Meagan’s name was listed every Saturday. He didn’t want to think about how lonely his Saturdays would be without her. Screw that. How lonely all his days would be without her.
What the hell, Meagan? What the hell? he asked himself for what seemed like the five thousandth time.
For the life of him he couldn’t figure out what she was doing in his office. His mind went wild trying to decipher her motives. Was she trying to sabotage him?
He couldn’t fathom that notion. Not after the previous night. If these past few weeks had been an act, she deserved an Oscar. She’d been too genuine in his arms. He prided himself on knowing when a sub was pretending. He’d bet his house that she was not pretending last night.
Some small part of him tried to convince the rest of him that maybe she was only wanting to look at the pictures of herself. After her first midnight visit to his office, he’d pulled her close and brought up in a roundabout way that he wanted her opinion on the photos he’d taken so far.
He listened as Fritz discussed his plan. It was unlike anything he had ever done before. It was beyond anything he’d ever contemplated. It was perfect.
* * *
Luke knew Meagan would probably figure out something was up. While no one had ever said he wore his heart on his sleeve, it wasn’t hard to know how he felt. He hadn’t called her all week, and they’d exchanged a few texts back and forth, but nothing in detail. Nothing to do with their feelings for each other.
On Saturday she watched him with curious eyes, looking for something, anything. He schooled his features so he wouldn’t give anything away. In order for this to work, she needed to be completely caught off guard. She complied with everything he asked her to do quickly and with no complaint. Any other day, he would be thinking of ways to reward her. But not today.
Fritz waited in the room off the studio. There was a two-way mirror, so he was able to see the entire session. Luke wondered if he was able to pick up on Meagan’s unease. He probably could; after all he was a very experienced Dom. He thought ahead to the scene Fritz had planned. Was it the right thing to do?
He wasn’t sure. But he knew he had to do something about Meagan’s visits to his office.
You could just ask her, he told himself. But he knew Meagan. It wasn’t that she would be dishonest, but he wanted to ensure he was told the entire truth.
The day before he had looked over the pictures he had from their previous sessions. There weren’t that many he needed to take today. Which was a good thing. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep up the “everything’s great, everything’s fine” facade.
As he took the final shots for the book, he mentally prepared himself for the scene to come. You have to do this, he told himself. You have to know.
“I think that’s it for the bondage scenes.” He took a deep breath and scrolled through the last few pictures he had taken.
“Is that all? Should I get dressed?” She was naked at the moment, and Fritz did not want her to start out that way.
He nodded to a hanger he had on the far wall. “Go put a robe on.”
She raised an eyebrow at his odd request. Normally, he would have her remain naked or else he’d have her get dressed. To have her put on a robe suggested something else would follow the session. If she was smart, she would pick up on the fact that something was different today.
But again she didn’t hesitate. Not the Meagan of today. The Meagan of today was off balance enough that she didn’t want to misstep. She quickly put on the robe and went back to kneel in the middle of the room.
“As you probably imagined,” he said, “we aren’t quite finished for the day. In fact, I have invited someone to run the next scene.”
He didn’t miss her sharp intake of breath or the way her body tensed.
“What’s your safe word, Meagan?”
“Red.”
“Very well. There is a room off to the side. On your right. The gentleman joining us is already in there, waiting.”
“May I ask a question, Sir?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to be in the room, Sir?”
“No, but the room has two-way glass, so I can see. And I’ll be able to hear.”
Meagan glanced warily at the closed door and bit her bottom lip. Luke considered calling off the scene for a second. But only for a second. He needed to get to the bottom of this. And in doing so, to let her know that deceit had no place in their relationship. Assuming, of course, that they’d still have a relationship after today.
She threw her shoulders back, held her head up high, and walked through the door.
* * *
Her heart was about to pound straight through her chest. Meagan was certain it was beating so loudly that anyone within a six-foot radius could hear it. She came to a stop as soon as she passed through the door.
What the hell?
A man faced her, one hip leaning against a desk. Tall and lean, but with an air of self-assurance and strength. She didn’t know him, but he looked vaguely familiar. Her mind scrambled to try to place him. Opening night. Luke’s club. He talked with Nathaniel after Cole left with Sasha. She remembered a German accent.
“Ms. Bishop,” he said, and she’d remembered correctly. He was German. “Come in and have a seat. My name is Herr Brose.”
She didn’t know why she was so scared. Honestly, he was a rather good-looking man. In fact, good-looking might be an understatement. In his tailor-made dark suit, he was downright dashing. But there was something in his demeanor, a hint in his expression, that told her the suit was simply the sheep costume and underneath, he was a very dangerous wolf.
“What exactly are we doing, Herr Brose?” The words were difficult to get out since her mouth was so dry.
“You are not the one to be asking questions. That is my job. I’m not one to let things slide; however, we’ve never met and I can tell you’re apprehensive. So this will count as my good deed for the month. It won’t happen again.” He nodded toward the chair. “Go sit down.”
Her legs shook so b
adly, she was surprised they carried her, but she walked over to the chair and sat down. He moved toward her with a grace that surely had to be at odds with his height.
“Arms on the armrests,” he said. “Palms up.”
Her fingers trembled as he bound her by the arms.
“Legs spread.”
She instantly obeyed and wasn’t shocked when he tied her legs to the chair legs. When he finished, he stood up and looked down at
