Masters & Lovers Box Set Three

I twirl my fork into spaghetti tinted a brilliant green with pesto. Spaghetti is a food which, while I’m partial to it, I normally reserve for eating in decent privacy. There’s nothing like having sauce down the front of your shirt to ruin your credibility. However, given the nature of the conversation I want to have…

…. Promised to have….

… with Ryan, I accepted his recommendation.

Won’t do any harm to pass a few compliments to his relative…

And the food is indeed excellent.

“Parmesan?” Ryan passes me the grater. “They make the pesto here. Grow it themselves in the gardens at the back.”

“Really? Great idea. I’ll suggest it to Michael and Charlotte. He’s looking to build up the hotel restaurant and she’s looking for excuses to grow things.”

And I dry up.

How the hell to begin this…?

Ryan forks up pasta, chewing, sipping at an excellent white Sauvignon and occasionally glancing up at me. After a few minutes, he says, “So, what is it can I do for you, James? I gather it’s not related to the project?”

“No, it’s not. The fact is…”

The fork perches half-way to his mouth. “Yes?”

“We had an incident with Kirstie at work…”

His face clouds over. “An incident? What’s wrong? Her work’s not up to scratch? I’ll talk to…”

I interrupt. “Her work is excellent, and even if it weren’t, it would be Kirstie herself I would speak to about it, not you.”

His feathers settling, “What then?”

My mouth is dry. I swill a little wine around my mouth. “Kirstie came into work one morning, obviously upset.” Ryan’s head tilts. “She’d been crying and had tried to cover it up under the make-up. Even if her position did not place her on the front desk meeting the visitors, that is clearly not acceptable.”

“Crying? What was she crying about?” His expression is neutral, his voice flat.

“You didn’t know?”

“No. I didn’t. If I had, obviously I’d have gotten to the bottom of it myself. So, what did she say?”

“Straight off, nothing, but later she asked to see me.”

His face tightens. “To see you? Why did she want to see you? Is this to do with Charlotte?”

“No.” I scoop up more pasta, chewing slowly to buy myself thinking time. “Kirstie wanted to talk to me in my capacity as her friend and as a Dom.”

Ryan stiffens. “What?”

to ask my advice regarding…

you correctly? You have been discussing

“Yes, but…”

forward over the

at all. Except that the only reason I had the conversation with

need your help?” He leans closer, hissing, “You think I don’t know how you met her? At the clubs in a threesome while you were having your fun and frolics? That was years

Don’t you want

bolt upright in his seat,

my own rising

won’t

“Kirstie is your sub…”

syllable could cut

Dom. But as I

pushes down into his

“So?”

tells me, I think that perhaps you haven’t

talking about James?” Once more, heads turn in our direction, this time to meet the flash from his eyes and turn away again.

Stay cool…

phrase ‘The Doms have the control. The subs have the power.’

read of it, yes.

is beginning to annoy

it is not without limits. The sub always has the final say

shifts in

sub has a safe word. And if that safe word is used, then it is for the Dom to stop whatever

not eating. The food lies forgotten in front of him and his hands are fisting. One of the waiters saunters over,

Between gritted teeth, “Fine.”

looks first to Ryan, then to me. Then he

Ryan’s gaze rises to mine. “What exactly has Kirstie being

“She tells me that…”

Choose your

when the two of you are involved, she calls her

gaze flicks away; face reddening, knuckles turning

Can’t leave it there…

Get the message home…

when you reach their limits, you have to stop. That’s how it works. Otherwise, it’s not Domination, it’s bullying;

eyes, almost black, snap back to mine. Yanking the napkin from his lap he hurls it

could have gone

spaghetti lies congealed on my plate, the virulent

a mouthful of the wine, washing it around my mouth,

Crap…

down the waiter, I call for

*****