Controlling Krysta Page 2

  Unfortunately, it had been a week and a half, and Mason seemed to be avoiding her instead of trying to spend time with her.

  Dix couldn’t leave him like this.

  He picked up the contract that lay on his desk, wondering if this was really the right thing to do. But it was the only way he knew to get his brother to interact with the one woman he’d shown interest in since Jenn died.

  He grabbed his desk phone. “Krysta could you come into my office, please?”

  She came in wearing a slim skirt in a light tweed fabric and matching blazer. With her glasses on, she looked like a sexy college professor.

  She was perfect for his brother.

  “What can I do for you?” she asked. She always spoke in that tone that combined professionalism with the slightest hint of sarcasm. Dix really liked her.

  What if she found this offer so appalling he lost her as his receptionist and Mason’s lifesaver all at once?

  He took a deep breath. “I accidentally eavesdropped on your personal call the other day.”

  “Accidentally?” She folded her arms and raised her eyebrows.

  “I was walking by the copy room.”

  “It takes about a second to walk by. What could you have possibly heard?”

  Damn, she was too smart to pull anything over on. He was going to have to be blunt about the situation.

  “You’re hard up for money to finish school.”

  Her arms dropped to her sides. “Yeah. I lost some funding unexpectedly.”

  “Maybe there’s a way we can help each other.”

  “Really?” she asked suspiciously. “And how would we do that?”

  Dix thought that, first, he’d better be sure this wasn’t going to backfire on him. “Are you attracted to me?”

  She took in a surprised breath. Probably didn’t expect that from her boss.

  “Define attracted,” she replied. She was likely trying to buy time to figure out how to answer without pissing him off.

  “I mean, do you fantasize about sex with me or having my babies or anything?”

  She burst out laughing. “No, I can see that you’re attractive, but you’re not really my type.”

  “Good,” Dix said. “And what about Mason?”

  The humor drained from her face. She opened her mouth and closed it a couple of times. It was fun to see her speechless, for once.

  So, she was actually attracted to his weird brother, but she didn’t want to admit she was hot for a guy who’d be better patient material than perspective boyfriend.

  Dix didn’t wait for an answer. “Krysta, my brother’s kinda checked out of life for a while now. He had several bad years when our mom’s Alzheimer’s got worse.”

  She grasped the back of one of the guest chairs. The concern on her face reassured Dix that telling her the truth was the right thing to do.

  “Then, she died and he felt responsible. Six months later, his wife was killed in a car accident.”

  Krysta gasped.

  Dix knew Mason would hate that he was telling her this. He never spoke about any of this stuff.

  “God, I’m really sorry,” Krysta said. “I didn’t know…”

  Dix realized that instead of giving her two reasons to do this, he could use a three-pronged approach with her—sympathy, practicality, and professional curiosity.

  “Before that, he was just hyper-organized and particular about things. Afterward, he took on a lot of OCD symptoms and germaphobia and replaced friends with dead animals.”

  Slowly, Krysta paced around the chair and sat down. She put her elbows on her thighs and rested her cheeks in her hands.

  After staring at the floor for several moments, she looked up at Dix and said, “Well…it all makes a lot more sense now.”

  Dix picked up the contract, walked around his desk and perched on the edge.

  “Here.” He handed her the papers. “I’m afraid if Mason goes on this way any longer, he’ll be permanently fucked up.”

  She seemed surprised at the choice of words, but took the contract.

  “This is the one way I know that might snap him out of it. If you cooperate, there’s ten thousand dollars in it for you, besides your salary.”

  She glanced down at the contract then up at Dix again. “Ten thousand dollars? What the hell do you want me to do? You know I’m not a qualified psychologist yet.”

  Shit. Here we go.

  “I want you to agree to be disciplined. Punished. Completely dominated by Mason.”

  “A sex slave?”

  Dix saw the shock on her face and was afraid he’d made a terrible mistake.

  *****

  I sat staring down at the contract, unable to read a word. The phrase Dix had used

  —“completely dominated by Mason”—kept going through my mind over and over. Each time it did, my insides grew hot.

  I squeezed my thighs together in answer to my clit’s cry for attention.

  Although I’d been terribly tempted in the past, I’d avoided websites discussing BDSM

  or novels portraying it.

  As a future psychologist, I knew I would tell my patients that these kinds of fantasies and sexual role-playing were completely normal.

  But since I was afraid my interest in bondage and discipline in the bedroom came from my sexually repressed religious upbringing, I didn’t want to go there. I wanted to believe I had completely escaped that lunacy.

  What would happen to me if I let go and lived the fantasy?

  Would I become completely dependent on a man to make decisions for me?

  Eventually become someone’s good submissive wife like I’d been brought up to be?

  Or would I become addicted to the lifestyle and start frequenting weird sex clubs?

  It wasn’t only the thought of being a sex slave that was tempting to me. It was the thought of being Mason’s sex slave.

  What was it about him that made me find excuses to knock on his office door so I could ask him unnecessary questions?

  “It’s a lot of money,” Dix was saying. “You get it even if he doesn’t take the bait. But if there’s physical contact without gloves or condoms, there’s a five thousand dollar bonus.”

  That jarred me out of my thoughts. “Without condoms?” I repeated. “Who has sex without condoms nowadays?”

  “You had a physical for health insurance when you came to work for us. Mason won’t do anything with a woman without being shrink-wrapped. And, since our mom died, he gets a physical every quarter, so he’s as safe as it gets. Are you on birth control?”

  “Yes,” I answered. This was all too bizarre, and way too personal to discuss with a man I wasn’t even planning to have sex with. I stood suddenly. “I can’t believe what you’re asking me.”

  “It’s a win-win. You get the money you need regardless. My brother has a chance to move on with his life. And there’s all kinds of psychology for you to study.”

  The money was tempting. The psychology was tempting. But Mason was by far the most enticing part of the scheme. I remembered the fantasy where he grabbed me and…

  No! There was no way I could even consider being a sex slave.

  My curiosity still got the better of me. “Why’s the glove-condom thing so important?”

  “Because the last woman my brother had any skin contact with was his wife. He claims it’s a germ thing, but I’ve seen him shake hands with male business associates without even flinching.” Dix threw his hands out and shook his head.

  I didn’t like seeing Dix helpless like this. It was all wrong. He was born to be cocky. It worked for him.

  A sense of sadness came over me as I replayed what he’d said about Mason.

  “Fear of intimacy,” I said, more to myself than to him. “The two women he loved most died a few months apart. He’s trying to protect himself from intimacy because it’s brought him emotional pain in the past. The gloves are a physical manifestation of his need to shield himself emotionally.”

  �
�Wow. I just thought of it as post-traumatic stress disorder or something.” Dix raked his hand through his hair. “But it sounds like you hit the nail on the head. He needs you, Krysta.”

  My heart flipped over. At that moment, I sort of loved Dix.

  Not in a romantic way, but I loved him for caring so much about his brother. And for being so much more than I gave him credit for when I met him. But I couldn’t possibly do what he was asking.

  “I’m sorry…” I took a step toward the door.

  “Hold up.”

  I stopped. Dix stared at me thoughtfully for a moment. His gaze dropped to his desk.

  He pulled a pen up from the leather pencil holder, then dropped it in again.

  He took a deep breath. “Let me ask you something.”

  “Okay.”

  “Are you turning me down because it makes you sick to imagine getting that close to my brother?”

  “No!” I replied way too adamantly. “Mason’s handsome and smart and—”

  Dix looked up at me and I was stopped short by the naughty grin spreading across his face.

  I’d walked into his trap. I was way too passionate in defending his brother, confirming Dix’s suspicions, no doubt.

  “None of this is relevant, anyway. I hold a bachelor’s degree and a master’s degree and you want me to prostitu—”

  “No!” Dix said it so loudly I halted mid-word. “I want you to help someone I care about, and this may be the only way to do it. And I want to help you in return. Take the contract home and think about it tonight.”

  Dix grabbed his hat off the corner of his desk and left the room.

  *****

  Oh, I thought about it all right. I couldn’t think of anything else. In fact, I spent the entire night in an argument with myself.

  This is wrong. Having sex for money is degrading. Why have you put all this work in if you’re going to turn yourself into a prostitute?

  Think logically. You need the money to finish school. Women take dinner and gifts from men all the time and have sex with them. What’s the big deal?

  And all the time, the voices I didn’t want to hear were whispering in the back of my head.

  Dominated by Mason. Mastered by Mason. Touched, teased, tormented by Mason Maddox.

  Each time I let the thoughts slip into my consciousness, my nipples puckered up tight and my panties dampened.

  What would he do to me if given the chance?

  You don’t want a man to rule you. Don’t give him that much power over you. You gave Brandt the power over your heart and he broke it. What will Mason do with power over your body?

  I slipped naked between my cool sheets, pushed away all thoughts, and willed myself to sleep.

  I stood in Mason’s office, my heart pounding against my ribs.

  “You’re late to work,” he said. “You know the rules. Take off your clothes.”

  My chest heaved with excitement, but I couldn’t let a man treat me that way.

  “You don’t own me,” I said.

  “Oh, but I do.” He lifted the contract and waved it.

  I stood there, undecided. He strode over and grabbed the two sides of my blouse at the neckline. He pulled them apart violently, sending buttons flying through the air.

  I was appalled at his barbaric behavior. But I’d never been so turned on in my life.

  Using one hand, he pinned my wrists over my head against the wall. With his free hand he pinched one of my nipples, hard. His mouth closed over the other breast. He sucked and bit at me like a ferocious beast.

  Mason let go. “Take off your skirt while I get my whip.”

  My pussy contracted at the word “whip.” I creamed my panties.

  I awoke, throbbing and wet, realizing that, since I was naked, I’d actually creamed my sheets.

  Imagining I was still with Mason, I reached down and spread the moisture from my pussy throughout my slit.

  “Bend over my desk,” Mason said in my mind, as I rolled my wet finger over my clit.

  His demanding voice was all I needed. I stiffened. Then I jerked and shuddered through an incredible release, working my clit until I’d milked the last spasm from my body.

  Chapter Three

  The next day, I walked into the office still telling myself I would refuse Dix’s offer.

  Never mind that I had signed the contract last night after my imaginary encounter with Mason. Never mind that I’d brought it with me instead of burning it.

  None of that meant that I was going through with this.

  When Dix came in an hour after I did, he casually glanced at my desk where I’d casually left the contract.

  Without a word, he collected it and took it to his office.

  I sat staring at my computer screen in disbelief. It was done. I’d agreed to go along with pretty much anything that was asked of me.

  My fingers kept hitting the wrong letters on the keyboard as I thought of Mason, a few yards away in his office. Was he thinking about what he wanted to do to me? Was he even interested in me or was his brother completely off base?

  Finally, I managed to focus and had even started getting some work done when Dix called me into his office.

  Disappointed it was him and not his brother, I finished the page I was working on before going to see what he wanted.

  “What took you so damn long?” he said from behind his big oak desk.

  “I didn’t know you were in a hurry.”

  “Timing is everything. I’m supposed to leave the office in a few minutes for a meeting.”

  “Okay…so what’s up?”

  He stood and pointed to a piece of paper. I got closer to see what he was pointing at.

  As I started to lean over the desk, he came around to join me.

  I twirled the page so I could read it right-side-up.

  “There’s a typo, blah, blah, blah…” Dix said.

  “What?” I turned and noticed he’d taken his belt off. Maybe he was going to change before his meeting.

  “I don’t have time for the whole song and dance, but if Mason asks why, you can tell him ‘for a typo.’”

  “Why what?”

  Suddenly, Dix’s hand was on my back. He applied enough pressure to push my chest down onto his desk.

  “What the fuck?”

  “Loud is good, but it would be better if it sounds more like a gasp or moan.”

  Dix pulled my skirt up, exposing my silk bikini panties. Was it yesterday that I was having warm fuzzy thoughts about this asshole?

  “I thought the contract was for your brother’s sake!” I struggled, but he held me down.

  “Yeah, but he can be a slow starter, and I don’t have months to screw around. Time for a jumpstart.”

  Whack!

  His leather belt sliced across the delicate skin of my thighs.

  “Ouch! Shit!”

  “Maybe a little louder,” Dix said.

  I tried to turn and give him a dirty look, but he was too strong.

  Whack!

  Damn that hurt. But the pain was confusing because being held down and whipped like this caused hot tingling sensations to course through my body.

  I wondered if Mason would do this to me. The thought sent a liquid rush to my pussy.

  Whack!

  “Uhhhh!” That one sounded like a combination of a moan and a grunt.

  “Good,” Dix said. “Oh, we’d better make some marks on your ass to get him really riled up.”

  I tried to twist around again, but he held me in place. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  He wasn’t. However, instead of pulling my underwear down, as I thought he might, he pulled the sides up until my bikinis became a thong.

  I was really pissed. I didn’t want Dix staring at my ass.

  Whack!

  “Oh!” I cried out. I was strangely turned on by the stinging.

  Whack!

  My ass cheeks burned like he’d used a blowtorch on me instead of a belt.

  Whack! />
  “Fuck!” I tried to give Dix a donkey kick to the shin, but he dodged it. “No more!”

  “Fine, but I hope you have more stamina than that when Mase gets a hold of you. This oughta do it, though. Your ass is red as an apple.”

  He unhanded me and replaced his belt.

  I straightened my clothes and tried to replace my dignity.

  “Oh, don’t mention the contract to Mason,” he said. “Ever.”

  Without saying a word, I headed for the door. My mind swam, confused about whether this had been the right scene, wrong man or just wrong, period. Wait, Mason didn’t even know about the contract?

  I needed some time alone to process.

  The bathroom? The copy room? Yes, I’d go hide out in the copy room for a while. Both brothers avoided it at all costs.

  I opened the door and gasped when I nearly ran into Mason.

  Even with his mouth closed, I was sure his teeth were clenched, just like his right fist.

  Was he about to punch me?

  His eyes darted from me to his brother, who had appeared behind me.

  “Hey, Mase!” Dixon said cheerfully.

  Mason murdered his younger brother with his dark gaze. I didn’t say a word.

  “I’m headed out, now,” Dix said. “Probably be gone the rest of the day. See y’all in the morning.”

  He left me there, inches away from his enraged older brother.

  Mason stared at me for several seconds, his lips pressed together as if he didn’t trust himself to speak.

  I could have excused myself to get back to work, but I didn’t. Dix’s little act had stirred the pot, so to speak, and I was dying for Mason to finish making the meal.

  I gazed up into his eyes challengingly, and couldn’t stop my chest from heaving at the idea that we were now alone for the day.

  “Could you come into my office, Krysta?” he finally said.

  “Sure.” I walked in casually before him, pretending not to notice that he locked the door behind us.

  He came toward me, but I was disappointed when he stopped a few feet away.

  “What happened in Dix’s office?”

  I was surprised that he’d gotten right to the point. “Oh, he was…um, reprimanding me,” I replied.

  His right fist clenched again. “Are you injured?”