His Boss, Her Dom Read online

  He shook his head. "No, Ma'am. I was chosen because I do a lot of walking around here, but I'm not a local. In theory that means I can find my way about and no one will know me. Of course it'll be Murphy's law some ex-ned will have moved here and I’ll be wanting his signature on something." He grimaced at the thought of some of the neds—petty criminals he'd crossed swords with in the past—who'd love the excuse to do him over. "But hey ho, I'll cross that bridge if I need to."

  She dipped her head in agreement. Jamie watched, narrow-eyed, and quelled his cock, which was showing signs of interest in her unconscious subbie position.

  "Then I'll see you as soon as you can get back. Aim to stop for supper." She blushed again. "If that doesn't put you out?"

  Now her voice was hesitant, less commanding, more subservient perhaps? "Si…so?" She went the color of the rosy Rome Beauty apples in the bowl on the work surface and looked at her feet

  There's that hesitation again. What a mass of contradictions she is. I wonder what was she going to say before she changed her mind? Sir, perhaps? It took all of his determination not to take hold of her hair or her chin and force her to look up at him. Then to push her onto her knees, and demand she assume the position.

  Come on, wishful thinking won't make a Boss a sub. Not in the real world anyway and this is all too real, body armor if necessary and all. But, damned if I didn't wish she were a sub—my sub.

  Chapter Three

  Hells bells does he know how dominant he is? Of course he does, it oozes out of every pore. Eva cuddled a whimpering Russ and watched thoughtfully as Jamie drove off. Russ had taken to Jamie and would have willingly accompanied him on the rest of his round if she'd let him. That was surprising. Ever since she'd got him from the dogs’ home as an unwanted puppy, Russ had very much been a one person dog.

  Russ apart, she needed to be careful. She was going to slip up big time if she wasn't. Every fiber of her subbie being wanted to kneel and ask to submit to him. But as the letter told her she was to take another week's leave, and have a 'dalliance' with the new postie, she'd need to be careful. A dalliance in the name of work was one thing. A dalliance because she wanted to submit to him was another. She was still his superior officer, and in charge of this case, or whatever they chose to call it. Case was a bit of a misnomer. All she'd mentioned was a lot of very expensive top of the range cars were driving up the lane, and the same cars weren't coming back. It seemed that had interested some people in the force, hence Jamie the new postie, who filled his uniform rather nicely.

  Mind you if I remember rightly, he fills his police one to perfection as well. Shit he's young though. Cougar is okay, right? Well it doesn’t matter in the lifestyle so sod it. But this isn't the lifestyle or Dommissimma. She put the dog down and watched abstractedly, as he turned around in circles and settled in his basket. Then she went on with her internal argument.

  Damn it, does dalliance cover a bit of subbing? Probably not, more's the pity. And he doesn't recognize me anyway. It was probably just as well. To be the superior to the guy who had you almost bare ass naked strapped over a spanking bench and flogging you until you flew, could cause a few problems. Best not to bring it up unless he did. Not until after. If, she thought despondently, there was any chance of an after. He might throw a wobbly because she hadn't been open and honest with him. After all, he was a Dom, and even in the short time she'd played with him in Dommissimma, the BDSM club she went to in Glasgow whenever she got the chance—which wasn't often—she knew damn well he was a good one.

  Why is life so bloody complicated? Oh fuck it. Eva decided it was time to pull up her big girl panties and get over her mump. She'd always been a sub, never wanted to be a Domme, and was happy and comfortable with that. However that part of her was separate from her work persona where she was in charge. There she was his superior officer—even if only for the time being—and she couldn't forget it.

  Later, was later, as her cliché-ridden boss had a penchant for saying, along with, 'now was now', and 'no time like the present'. As well as 'priorities take precedent'. Which was so bloody obvious that Eva always wanted to snigger when she heard him utter it.

  She rummaged in the fridge and found the ingredients to make paella. If Jamie didn't like seafood he could have a quiche. The garlic made her pause for a second, but not to put it in, on the off chance of getting close up and personal, was stupid. It was work, not play of any kind. However, just thinking about playing with Jamie, Master Jamie, made her knickers wet. Eva gave into temptation, put the paella in the bottom, simmering oven of the Aga and took herself upstairs for a short and fast session with her bullet. It took three climaxes before she was sobbing and spent and slumped limply on the bed. The memories of his crop on her ass, and the tight nipple clamps he attached to her nubs, and linked them with a chain he attached to her clit and pulled on to apply pain, featured in most of her wet dreams and climax inducing fantasies. This had been no exception. Her pussy was soaked and her juices coated her thighs and the fingers she'd used to help her bullet, and increase stimulation. The pulse between her cunt and ass throbbed hard and with each beat, more of her juices spurted out. She hadn't come so hard, or needed to, for many a long month. Work had been so demanding the nearest she'd had to a wet dream had been falling asleep in the bath.

  Now, with the reappearance of Jamie, it seemed that her libido roared back with a vengeance. She could only hope it stayed that way, and every climax wasn't a solo one. Eva got off the bed and went to shower. Something niggled her. Why hasn't he recognized me as his sub from that night? Logically there was no reason why. When she'd taught him her hair was in a tight, neat bun, and she seemed to remember, dyed blonde for some strange reason. In the club, it had been long and black—she'd forgotten how often she changed hair color—and tied up in a tight plait. Not only that, she'd called herself Clara, her middle name. Not Eva, Evelyn or the diminutive Evita, which she loved. Athol Donaldson, one of the Doms had laughed at her. "Clara, Evita, who's to know why? You'll be sub, subbie or whatever your Dom decides. You might even be girl or slu…"

  "Do not say that word." Eva had forgotten whom she was talking to. "Not to me, not ever. I won't be called a slut ever."

  Athol had narrowed his eyes. "I hope you've put that down as a hard limit then," was all he said. She hadn't but after that exchange she'd met Jamie, and forgotten all about it. Now it all came rushing back. Safe words, hair… all of it.

  Here, now, her hair was long, loose and curly, and she'd let it go back to its natural russet-brown. Plus, today was one of her no contact lens days, and she'd worn overlarge sunglasses.

  By the time Jamie reappeared, she was once more calm and she hoped collected. Russ announced Jamie's presence by rushing to the back door and yipping excitedly. It was nothing like the deep growls he gave when a stranger approached.

  The knock on the wooden panels made the little dog jump up at the handle and tug on it. He'd got the knack of releasing the catch perfectly.

  The door flew open to show Jamie standing there in dark blue denims and oh my. Eva swallowed, her mouth dry, and pushed her specs back up her nose—a tight black t-shirt. Now her thong was wet and chafing. That was so how she remembered him. Except when he'd removed the t-shirt to wipe his forehead, and hers with it. Even now she remembered his scent, mingled with both their sweat, as he stroked her skin, and whispered, "good, puss, oh so very good."

  Eva pressed her legs together to stop her cream escaping, and sliding down her legs. She really shouldn't have put the short floaty skirt on, but vanity made her want to look her best.

  Jamie laughed. It would, of course be too much to ask for him not to notice her awkward movement, or not to know what it meant.

  "You did say we were off duty?" he asked in a deep and to her horror— pleasure— she couldn't decide which—dominant and commanding voice, as she led the way into her comfy lounge.

  How on earth she stayed on her feet, Eva had no idea. "Yes." Would he hear the tremble in he
r voice, and know how much effort it cost her not to kneel. "This is our time I guess, until we start to discuss work and what to do about the house next door. Why?"

  "Because I think we need to sort some things out, don't you, puss?" His gaze stayed on her face, his eyes unblinking and his expression neutral. There was no inkling as to what he thought.

  "You knew?"

  He shook his head. "Not until now, but there was something niggling me, and I couldn't put my finger on what it was. You might be my boss, and a Ma’am at work but you showed not one Domme tendency. Everything about you shouted sub to me, and I couldn't figure out if it was wishful thinking or what. Then when I showered it hit me. The way you looked at the floor reminded me of someone, even if your face didn't. At work, your hair was tight in a bun, and it looked a lot lighter. You reminded me of a schoolteacher I used to lust after. I dreamed of taking down her hair and tying it around her wrists. It seems I had Dom tendencies even then."

  Eva giggled. She reckoned he was probably born with them. "I bet you played havoc with your sisters’ 'twist and make the hair grow' teen dolls."

  He raised both eyebrows. "My sisters’ dolls? How stereotypical can you get? They might have been mine. After all they were so much more fun than 'Mr. I am a soldier' or any other male doll. At least the girl ones have boobs."

  "And a key to pull down their hair."

  "And that," Jamie agreed. "Although I prefer to do the pulling myself."

  Eva clenched her legs together. The pictures that he conjured up in her mind were way too erotic for a Tuesday afternoon. Damn him! She'd already soaked her thong, and it was bloody uncomfortable.

  "Take it off."

  "Eh?" Darned if she couldn't feel the heat spreading over her skin. He had that look on his face.

  "Take your thong off. You look as if it's stuck up your ass crack."

  "Oh, my." Her face was so hot she wanted to dunk it in a bowl of water. "How, why, sheesh, that is so embarrassing. I mean, I'm…"

  "On holiday? Off duty? Wanting to kneel?"

  "Well, the first two." No way was she going to admit to the third. Not there and then anyway.

  "Puss, stop fibbing."

  "I'm… Shit, sorry but my head is spinning and my brain hurts with everything that's bombarding it."

  "It'll be more than your brain, puss, if I have my way."

  Eva couldn't help it: she dipped her head and Jamie laughed softly. "Exactly. However I digress. In Dommissimma, you had that fabulous plait. I still fantasize about how amazing you looked with it tied into your cuffs. But it was black, and at work it was blonde. I much prefer this."

  He lifted up some strands of her waist length wavy hair and wrapped it around his fingers. "I can think of so many things to do with this, and not just tie it to your cuffs. Have you ever been suspended by it?"

  She gasped and he grinned.

  "You did say we were off duty?"

  Eva shook her head. "Yes, no, oh shoot, give me a minute." She took a deep breath and steadied her racing pulse. "Okay, then, even though I'm on holiday, after the letter you brought, at this moment in time, I think I need to change my mind and say we need to be at work." Even if it was just to make herself pull back and think of the ramifications of what she'd like to happen between them. "There's a potentially dangerous situation with regards to the guys in the cottage next door, and we're the first line of whatever it seems. So as much as I'd like to bow to you…" She paused. It was the right time to be honest. "And say yes, Sir, I'm yours, I'll have to say work first."

  "And play later." It wasn't a question.

  "And play later, Sir. Right, where were we?"

  "Before I'm your sergeant and you're my superior again, I was about to say, if I put my fingers in your sweet slit now, puss, I'm sure you'd drench them."

  Eva gasped, and her juices began that sweet hot slide down her thighs once more. Jaime was correct, her thong was up her butt crack and as wet as if it was in the washer.

  "Your eyes have dilated, and your skin is covered in the sweat of arousal. Oh so nice. Now why didn't I know how the thought of Shibari arouses you so much, eh?" He tugged her toward him, and bit not too gently on the swell of her breast, which showed over her top. "Ma’am, mind you, when we played I spent a lot of time staring at your tits and your expression of need and desire to have more of what you were getting." He stopped speaking and pinched her chin between thumb and forefinger. "Clara, my puss." His tone now invited confidences.

  "Clara is my middle name, Sir." The salutation slipped out without thought or hesitation. "And the time we played at Dommissimma, and after, was the best night of my life."

  "So why the hell did you never go back?" He grabbed her hair and pulled hard until the back of her head touched her shoulder. Do you know how often I fucking looked for you, puss? Do you?"

  All thought of Ma’am and Sergeant, work and the assholes next door went out of her mind.

  Jamie groaned. "Shit, puss, I need you. And I know I can't have you, not yet."

  "Not yet. But I hope soon." Eva bit her lip, but it had to be said. "Sir, Jamie, will you be able to accept that I'm the boss? I'll have to give you orders with no thought to the real us." Eva stressed the world real on purpose.

  "I know, and I promise I won't think of punishment for being sassy." He grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. "Well not too much anyway."

  "It won't be easy," Eva said. Why on earth she was laboring the point she had no idea. Unless it was so she could tell him in no uncertain terms that she'd warned him, more than once. Eva was under no illusions about how hard she could push her staff. She wasn't a Domme, and never would be, but she was a boss. "I'll be in charge, no switching and no Dom like glares when you disagree with me."

  "You malign me." He shook her until her head swung forward. "Plus you're casting aspersion on me as a man and a Dom. I do not like it." Jamie's voice was harsh, his hands tight on her shoulders and she whimpered.

  "Sir, red, you're hurting me."

  He stopped so suddenly she jolted and then she was cuddled close to him. "Oh, puss I'm sorry, shh I'm so, so sorry. I missed you. I missed you like I'd miss a limb. And all after only three hours of play." He kissed her neck and her lips, very gently. "And the night that followed. Forgive me, puss. Let me make amends.”

  The only thing Eva could think was that now she was safe. She put her arms around him and sighed in pleasure. "Nothing to forgive, Sir."

  Chapter Four

  "You, my sweet puss, are too generous. In my defense, all I can say is that I've looked for you every bloody week from then until now. Because it was the best night of my life as well."

  She'd looked shocked at his statement, as well she might, Jamie thought, as he held the shaking woman in his arms, and knew he never wanted to let her go.

  That one special night all those months ago had shown him what he needed from a sub and made him vow he'd accept nothing less, and preferably with her.

  Athol Donaldson, one of the Administrators, had been on duty as his Dungeon master and remarked how well they gelled, but with all Jamie's persuasive powers on high, he still wouldn't part with any more information other than her subbie name, which of course Jamie already knew. All Athol would do was promise to pass on a letter from Jamie, in which he asked Clara to contact him, and sub for him again.

  Even though he argued and pleaded, Athol had been adamant.

  "Not even if you get on your knees mate, and that I'd love to see." Athol had told him. "You know the rules as well as I do. Suck it up, buttercup." He'd stuck one hip out in a parody of a torch singer and pursed his lips. "Or I'll be forced to take action." He hadn't said what action, and Jamie didn't ask. Athol was one of the most laid back and easygoing people Jamie knew until he reached boiling point, and then he blew big time. At that point everyone ducked, and Jamie was no different. He'd backed off and changed the subject.

  To his sorrow, Jamie never heard a word from or seen hair or hide of Clara-Eva until that afterno
on.

  "You looked?" Eva asked him in a small voice. "Really? I've been so busy, I haven't had the chance to go back to Dommissimma since then."

  Gone was his boss, the woman in charge. Instead, once more she was the woman he remembered who subbed so beautifully for him. Her whole demeanor changed and Jamie wondered what would happen if he asked her to… sod it, in for a penny.

  Jamie dropped his arms from around her and she looked up at him with a puzzled expression on her face. He spoke before she had a chance to and before he gave into temptation and punched the air. She hadn't deliberately stayed away.

  "Long and hard. Like how my cock feels at the moment. Hell, shall we have a cuppa? And Ma’am, perhaps you could fill me in on our next steps."

  Eva looked at her watch, and ran her tongue round her lips. It was erotic, arousing, and he was damn sure it made his pre-cum stain his boxers.

  "It's well past lunch time. We'll start work at five and do a late shift. Now how can we pass the next hour?"

  He had an idea about that.

  "Assume our position, puss." Would she remember? Would she do it, or would she pull rank, even though her words and gestures were a definite invitation?

  She did. Her eyes widened and she ran her hands over her hips in a nervous gesture.

  "Sir."

  Very gracefully Eva knelt on the floor and nuzzled his cock over his denims. It responded as if in cue, and hardened to the point of pain.

  "Lovely, puss. Do we carry on?" Shit, he hoped she said yes. Surely they could do what they wanted in their spare time? "Oh I know not now, but later? After we sort the crap out?

  "Sir?" Eva sounded puzzled.

  "Play," Jamie said.

  Russ woofed.

  Jamie laughed. "Is that an I'm okay go play, or a lazy sod get back to work woof?"

  "Oh, definitely the former, Sir, but—" Eva bit her lip.

  Ross gripped her chin, hard enough to inflict pain without bruising. "So for the next hour you're mine? My puss?"