Masters & Lovers Box Set Three

I’m crossing the floor of the lobby, thinking about the ongoing groundworks of D-site and trying to decide whether to tackle the east or the west side first. I’m not truly paying attention to my surroundings.

“Morning, Kirstie.”

“Good morning Mr Alexanders.”

*Jab elevator panel*

Lay land drains first to the east side?

Enable access via the west?

Or wait for the circular route to connect from the bridge?

Where’s that damn lift?

…

…

Reverse mental gears….

Kirstie…

Too much make-up…

Swollen eyes…

Trying not to be too obvious about it, I turn to take a better look at her. Even from the rear…

… slumping in her seat…

Not like her…

The elevator bings, but I ignore it, strolling back to the desk.

“Kirstie, is everything alright?”

“I'm fine, Mr Alexanders. Thank you for asking.”

She's painted on her business face, but as she speaks, she doesn’t look at me, keeping her eyes turned down. One thing I like about Kirstie is that she looks you in the eye…

Usually…

I take her chin in thumb and forefinger. “I expect you to look at me when I speak, Ms Jamieson...” But I cut myself short. Under the makeup she's caked on, her eyes are puffy.

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m fine.”

“No, you're not. You look terrible. Is it something I can help with?”

“No sir, it's... personal…”

I wait, giving her a silence to fill.

A flush rises up her neck, vanishing under the makeup line before it hits her face. “My sister, Erin is falling out with Ben....”

Not Ben again….

He really doesn't have the hang of people…

Why would that upset Kirstie so much?

“... so I have her crying on my shoulder and Ryan...” She stalls.

“Yes? Ryan…?”

Staring down at her desktop, “Nothing.”

little longer, but

she doesn’t want

you like to go home? I'll find

sir. I'd rather

“As you wish.”

*****

I have Kirstie on from downstairs. She's asking if you could spare her a

Aaahhh…

come up now if she wants to.

James.” Francis fixes a gimlet eye on

decide if I’m the

*****

tap at my door. I left it

“Come in, Kirstie.”

“Thank you for

but as she leaves, I close the door behind her. “Kirstie, we’re

nods, winding

What now?

fucking good at this sort

it

Nope…

Wrong…

correct myself, instead waving her across to the low seating by the coffee table, overlooking the

sits, sniffs and gulps, then hoots into a handkerchief. I sit opposite her, pour

Should I call Charlotte?

but Kirstie starts

there’s Michael of course. You always

As she knows…

slant up to

How we met…

at

rules. How it works. You really get

“Get it?”

you really understand the Dom/sub

to see where this

Ryan…

dries up again. I try a gentle

He... He thinks

not required to do anything you are unwilling to; that you haven't agreed to. That's not the rules of the game. If something upsets

that and you know that, but Ryan... Could you maybe talk to him? Explain

me to interfere in the relationship between a Dom and

she nods.

tell me what he

swallows, squirming. “It's...” But her

Crucified with embarrassment.

discussing everyday life here, Kirstie? Or

tears running furrows

Ah, fuck….

Weeping women…

Francis?

No…

Kirstie. Considering how you and I met, there can't be too many taboos in what we can say to each

and sweating, she says, “He gets

the clubs are just right for him. He can be as exhibitionist

Parking lots, elevators. Places we could be caught. He's

taking you too far, you simply

and her eyes red-rimmed, meet mine.

Shit…

can't be used isn't

time, maybe in your early