Tell Me - Ashe Barker Page 0,5
it. He looked to be a little older than she was, perhaps in his mid-thirties, and smartly dressed. Thea loved a man in a well-tailored suit and Tony was the epitome of male elegance. His dark grey jacket and trousers were immaculate, his crisp white shirt pristine. He removed his burgundy and grey striped tie as they sat in the bar and unbuttoned his collar. Thea thought she might dissolve into a puddle at his feet.
Tony’s physical perfection was just a part of his appeal though. He was unfailingly courteous, he smiled a lot, and when he invited her to accompany him back into the dungeon she was more than happy to drape herself over a spanking bench for him. He had never disappointed her, delivering just the right level of intensity to satisfy her craving for pain. Submissive to her core, Thea rarely attracted anything approaching discipline from her Dom, but on the rare occasions he did harden his tone with her or raise a disapproving eyebrow her pussy melted. She just quivered, her desire for his dominance bringing her to her knees every time.
She had scened with no one else since that first time with Tony. She had no desire to. He had set the standard as far as she was concerned and no other Dom would measure up. He had set the bar high, yet she didn’t even know his last name. She had no wish to know. Tony was her guilty secret, he existed here at The Wicked Club. In this place, with this powerful Dom, she could let herself go, safe in the knowledge that the Thea who stripped in public and orgasmed on a growled command, was a world away from the prim, efficient woman who inhabited her everyday life. And never the twain should meet.
“Sweetheart, are you falling asleep?”
“What? Oh, sorry…” Thea’s musings came to an abrupt end, disturbed by her Dom’s soft voice. His aftercare was intoxicating, but Thea knew she could postpone the inevitable no longer. “I need to be off.”
“Do you have a taxi booked?”
“No, I wasn’t sure how long we’d be.”
“I’ll call one, while you get dressed. Unless you want me to drop you off?” He raised one eyebrow, his expression mischievous. They both knew she absolutely refused to accept a lift home. Ever. It was better that no one at The Wicked Club knew where she lived, even Tony. He often offered, and she always turned him down.
Ten minutes later, decently dressed in her long overcoat, which completely covered her fetish outfit beneath, Thea scrambled into a taxi at the foot of the entrance steps in front of the club. She lifted a hand to Tony, his smile and sexy wink as the vehicle pulled away causing her pussy to clench despite the bone-deep satisfaction he’d already provided.
Tony always did have that effect on her. That’s what made him so dangerous.
Chapter Two
“Twenty five thousand? How the fuck did this happen?” Tony tossed the sheaf of documents onto his desk and strode to the window. The street scene outside wasn’t exactly peaceful or calming, but it was infinitely more soothing than the mayhem contained in those pages.
“Someone screwed up, that’s how.” The quiet, measured tones of his PA belied the direct nature of her words. Isabel Barnard had worked for him for the last ten years, and for his father before that. She knew Tony appreciated plain speaking, and had no objection to it herself. “Your predecessor didn’t want to pay out for good legal advice so his head of HR—now your head of HR—managed the case himself. He turned up at the tribunal with incomplete documentation, he wasn’t rock solid on the right procedures, he couldn’t demonstrate…”
“Okay, okay, I get it. A car crash, right?”
“Right. The tribunal took a coach and horses through our case, found for the claimant on all counts.”
Tony surveyed the street below for several more seconds, then turned from the window with a sigh. He scowled again at the papers spread on his desk but the message they contained hadn’t improved since the last time he perused them. Dart Logistics, his newly acquired logistics and distribution company had just ended up on the wrong end of an industrial tribunal ruling and had been ordered to pay the complainant compensation of twenty five thousand pounds to soften the blow of his allegedly wrongful dismissal. As far as Tony could make out his ex-employee hadn’t put in a full week’s work for nearly four years, and