Beg For Me by Sierra Cartwright
Chapter Four
Jacob was taking a gamble. A big fucking one. But the military and life-and-death black ops situations had honed his instincts and taught him to respect his hunches.
And the beautiful woman with wide, unblinking eyes and with her mouth slightly parted in shock was a submissive. Even if instinct hadn’t told him that, her stunning art would have.
Elissa was capable and resourceful, no doubt. Strong enough to live her life on her own terms. While he was at her family’s pub, he’d studied her. She managed the place well, took care of the customers, and had been polite but direct when she told him it was time to leave. And then, outside, she’d been resolute in her determination not to go with him.
In addition to being attracted to her, he respected her. And there was no mistaking the fact that the male subject in the image she was working on resembled him.
The kiss last night had proven that she was interested in him. The question was, what were they going to do about it? He wasn’t inclined to ignore it, but getting involved with a client was beyond stupid. He didn’t take unnecessary risks. Or hadn’t, until now. Elissa was no ordinary woman, and he’d never had a reaction to a woman like he did to her.
He continued to wait, wondering if she’d go on. If she didn’t, that was answer enough, and he would respect her boundary.
The next move was hers entirely.
“You’ve already seen more than most people.” Ambiguity hedged her response, and she knitted her fingers together around her glass, maybe to disguise her nervousness.
“I appreciate your belief in me.” There was no gift more valuable.
“But for me, I guess the question is, who are you, Jacob? Beyond someone Hawkeye trusts with my life? A man who lives far away from the world, in his own private fortress? Someone who gets what he wants?” She tilted her head back to look up at him.
On some level, the fact she remained where she was and he stood so near, towering over her, was the first step in the dance that might culminate in a D/s experience. “Are you asking if I understand what I’d need to do to satisfy your need to submit?”
Her breath whooshed out, and her face turned a charming shade of scarlet. There was no artifice about her. Because of the life he’d lived, he appreciated that as much as a cool summer breeze. Jacob couldn’t get enough of her.
“That’s not exactly what I meant. I wouldn’t have put it in those words.”
“So how would you have put it?”
“I wanted to know about you and your experience.”
It was a fair question. “On some level, I was always aware that I was a Dominant. When I was in college, I attended a club in New Orleans and mentored under the owner. Once I’d explored the dynamic, I understood why none of my attempts at dating had progressed into something more permanent. The most important thing about BDSM is the amount of honesty it requires.” He studied her expression as he raised an eyebrow.
Clutching her glass even tighter, Elissa nodded.
“Would you like me to be blunt?” He waited for her nod before going on. “I think I’m right about you.” He shrugged. “But that’s for you to admit when you’re ready. I’m interested in pursuing this conversation—and you—but only if you’re willing.”
“That’s…” She took a sip of her wine. For courage? “You’re definitely direct.”
“As honest as I can be. You deserve that. So whether you tell me I’m wrong and we pretend this—and your reaction to my kiss last night—never happened is totally up to you.”
“You’re not wrong, but I wasn’t expecting this. It feels a bit surreal.”
Her soft admission meant a lot to him, but they would proceed at her pace. “We can always address this again at another time.”
The wine sloshed gently against the sides of the glass, telling him her hands were shaking.
Hoping to take away some of her tension, he crossed the room and returned with a chair, then took a seat across from her. It brought them closer together, inviting trust rather than creating a disparity.
“So everything with you is safe, sane, and consensual?”
He studied her. “Of course.” While he knew plenty of people who embraced RACK—Risk Aware Consensual Kink—he hadn’t had a relationship that had ever developed that far. He understood the appeal. And perhaps with the right partner and enough time, he was open to the possibility. As it was, he continually communicated with his submissive to ensure her comfort and pleasure.
“Without emotional manipulation?”
What the fuck?He scowled. But when he spoke, he kept his voice low. “Is there something I need to know?”
“Look…” She stood and slid her tumbler on the desk before striding to the window. A few seconds later, she turned to face him. “Maybe I’m not ready for this. Can we have this conversation somewhere else? Maybe a bit later?”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
“Maybe after dinner?”
“I’m cooking.” He shrugged. “The one thing that’s my specialty.”
She gave him a small smile that told him she appreciated the reprieve. “I’ll be over in a while, after I shut down my computer and straighten my desk.”
“Take your time.”
Forcing himself to push away thoughts of a relationship with Elissa, he strolled back to the main house, automatically scanning the area to be sure everything was quiet. So far, there’d been no reports of unusual activity on the ranch. An hour ago, he’d checked in with Hawkeye. There’d been no further attacks that the firm knew of. No one was relaxing their vigilance, but it was possible the anthrax sent to Inamorata had been an isolated incident.
Even if it was, that person needed to be found.
As he seasoned steaks, images of Elissa, and her art, filtered through his brain. And he remained enthralled by the one she’d been working on. She’d done an excellent job of capturing the Dominant’s features. There was appreciation in his eyes, and he wondered if she’d seen something similar in his.
When she finally entered through the sliding glass door, he looked across at her. There was nothing more perfect. Like she belonged. A future with moments like this would work for him.
“Hey.” She slid her glass onto the counter.
“Steaks okay?”
“From your cattle?”
“And dry aged. Nothing but the best.” Earlier, while she was working, he’d tossed a salad and baked some potatoes. “There’s a bottle of red wine on the island. I took it out of the fridge earlier to reach room temperature. Will you grab it?”
Only their second meal together, and already they were working like a team.
“Merlot?”
“Do you like it?”
“One of my favorites. Not too heavy.” After she handed the bottle to him, he uncorked it and poured them each a glass.
Once again, they agreed to eat outside, and she set the table while he fired up the grill.
When he joined her, she took a small breath, and for a moment he thought she was going to say something. But with a tiny shake of her head, she settled for thanking him.
As they dined, he decided to follow her lead. If she chose not to mention their previous conversation, he would honor that. And when she asked about his upbringing on the ranch, he ended up revealing more about his family history than he’d ever told anyone. “I mentioned my mother already. She was an only child and hated living out here. Right after she graduated from high school, she moved to Los Angeles.”
“Bright lights. Big city.”
“She got pregnant in her early twenties and moved back home. I never knew my father.”
“That has to be tough.”
He shrugged. “My grandparents did the best they could. I didn’t make it easy for them. Something I’ll always regret.”
“And your mom. Where is she now? Still in California?”
“I’m not sure.” The answer was much more complicated than that. The truth was, he didn’t know. Hawkeye had gotten her out of the hellhole that was her life in Mexico. She hadn’t thanked him for the help and was furious when Jacob pulled strings to have her admitted to rehab. After a few days, she’d checked herself out and disappeared.
With Hawkeye’s vast resources, there was no doubt Jacob could locate her. But she’d made it clear she didn’t want to be found. “She has problems with addiction.”
“I didn’t mean to pry.”
He wanted to know her deepest secrets. Fair was fair. “I was two or three when she left for the second time. Said the stress of dealing with a kid was too much.”
“I’m sorry.” Elissa placed her fingers on the back of his hand. The touch was both gentle and reassuring. And he absently wondered how long it had been since he’d experienced either. Odd. Until this moment, he hadn’t missed it. And now the need for connection blasted through him like the roar of a freight train. “She abandoned you?”
“You could say that. Or that she did what she thought was best for me. Or what she needed in order to save herself.”
“That’s generous of you.”
“Is it? Would it have been better for her to live a life she hated?”
“Did she ever come back?”
“Never. When I was little, she made an occasional attempt to stay in touch. She called a couple of times and sent birthday cards often enough that I’d be excited to get another the next year. I’d check the mailbox several times a day for weeks, looking. Hoping.” His grandmother would give him a slight smile, but there’d be pain in her eyes when she saw his disappointment. “I gave up when I turned nine.”
Elissa winced.
For a long time, neither spoke. Then, seeming to realize how intimate her touch was, she drew her hand away.
“My grandparents did the best they could. And they were both great people. Grandad insisted I go to college so I’d be ready to inherit the ranch. At eighteen, I saw that as a curse. And maybe I have a bit of my mom in me. I wanted to see the world. There had to be something beyond these fenced-in acres. They worked from sunup to dusk and rarely took vacations. I couldn’t imagine that for the rest of my life. So after I got my degree, I joined the military instead of coming home and repaying everything they’d done for me.”
“I get it. Family expectations are complicated.”
As he expected, she was compassionate rather than judgmental. Maybe she understood because of the way she ran her family’s business.
“They didn’t tell me Grandad was sick, or that they needed money because of the downturn in beef prices. They got behind on some of their loans and had to sell off parts of their holdings. Which is why I went to work for Hawkeye.” The pay was beyond anything he’d imagined. It wasn’t for the love of black ops. It was for the opportunity to redeem his selfish mistakes. “I wasn’t there when he died. And my grandmother had to manage everything herself.” Regret was his constant companion.
“You were young.”
“Every day I’m grateful for what I have.” In the military, he’d seen things that would haunt him forever. While working for Hawkeye, he’d done things that would haunt him forever. The world was big—that was true. But home was where he’d healed. He’d been there for his grandmother and continued the Walker legacy. “The connection with the land, the responsibility…” He glanced at Saddle Mountain, then back at Elissa with her beautiful, soulful eyes. “I’ve recognized it for what it is. A privilege, rather than a burden. But it’s not for everyone. It can be lonely, and the winters are long.”
“There are trade-offs, though. Right? The peace. I’ve been really creative out here.” She looked into the distance for a moment. “I know you don’t work for Hawkeye anymore. But it seems like a part of you. Like the biometrics and the panic room. Normal people don’t live like that.”
“No?”
“You mentioned the loneliness. Is there part of you that misses being an agent?”
“I’ve chosen to live in the present. I told him to fuck off when he first approached me about this job.”
She traced a bead of condensation as it wended its way down the side of her glass. “Then why am I here? Why did you change your mind?”
“He showed me a picture of you.”
She stilled.
“There was no way I could say no.”
“And why the name Operation Wildflower?”
It’d been fanciful, maybe. But it fit. “Your eyes.” He took a drink of his merlot. “Reminded me of columbines. They were my grandmother’s favorite. I’d pick them for her, and she always pretended they were the greatest gift ever.”
“My mom was the same with dandelions.” She grinned. “But when you think about it, it means we wanted to give them a gift, and when you have no money, what else do you do?”
He liked the way she saw the world.
The sun moved toward the horizon, and she shivered.
“We can clean up here, then finish our wine near the firepit while we watch the sun set.”
“That sounds perfect.”
Within minutes, their chores were done, and they were back outside. He held a lighter to the kindling. It caught almost right away, and a soft crackle filled the air.
He sat on one end of the couch, and she curled up at the other beneath a blanket he’d carried out for her.
The first hint of orange brushed the high, wispy clouds.
“It’s impossibly quiet out here.” She took a sip of her wine.
“You’re happy in the city?”
“To be honest, I’ve never really thought about it. It never occurred to me to move away from my parents. I went to college, got my own place, but my parents and the pub mean the world to me.”
“The constant movement.”
“It’s electric in a way, never silent. Kids playing. People coming and going at all hours—myself included. Parties. Even noise from televisions. But this…”
“I’ve grown accustomed to it. You can hear the world in a whole new way. The birds. The wind in the trees.”
“Horses neighing.”
“You were watching.”
“I couldn’t help myself.”
It was an intimate confession, one he didn’t respond to, choosing instead to allow the time to unfurl as she wanted.
“You had a rope on the saddle.”
Jason hid his grin behind his glass. “I know how to use it.”
As usual Waffle appeared from nowhere, leaping onto the couch, to land between them. She head-butted Jacob’s leg before plopping down to clean herself.
“Where does she go?”
“She patrols the property, and she has a pet door entrance into the garage. She has a bed, and when it gets cold, I have a heat lamp to keep her warm.” He stroked the feline’s head. “We haven’t had a single issue with mice or skunks since she took up residence. Even the raccoons seem to have packed up their babies and moved somewhere else.”
“She earns her keep.”
For a few minutes, Elissa watched as the sun sank behind Saddle Mountain. Then she faced him and took a deep breath. “Have you ever had a submissive?”
Though the question didn’t surprise him, her directness did. “As in a twenty-four-seven relationship?” When she nodded, he answered. “No.” Guessing she was looking for a more detailed answer, he examined his own motivation, maybe for the first time. “My lifestyle has never been conducive to that kind of commitment. In the military, I was Special Forces, and I deployed a lot.” He shrugged. “Then after Peru—”
“So you were there.”
He didn’t acknowledge her statement. “I went to work for Hawkeye. Then when we nearly lost the ranch, I knew I needed to be here for my grandmother. She deserved that.”
She propped a pillow behind herself, bringing her a little closer to him. “You’re a good man.”
“I’ve done some things I’m not proud of. Bad things.”
“All of us have regrets.”
Some were easier to live with.
The fire crackled and hissed, and the automatic outdoor lights turned on. They weren’t bright—rather they provided enough illumination to add ambience and safely maneuver around.
He’d enjoyed the patio more since she arrived than he had in the past few years. Though she hadn’t been here long, she was already affecting his life.
Last night, it had taken him over an hour to fall asleep. He’d told himself it was because he heard every one of Elissa’s movements and was concerned for her safety. But the truth was so much more.
As a man, as a Dominant, he noticed everything about her—feminine curves, rumpled hair, feisty attitude, talent, loyalty to her family, even her unintentional submissive air.
It’d been years since he had such an intense reaction to any woman. He’d taken a shower and jacked off while he was in there. Since that hadn’t helped much, he’d masturbated a second time. The rest he eventually managed to get was light and fitful.
When he didn’t go on, she placed her glass on the wicker table. “So you’re not much for relationships?”
He hadn’t been.
When he didn’t respond, she went on. “I think they give our lives meaning.”
Jacob had few friends, even fewer close ones. Maybe he was missing out.
“Have you thought about kids? Having someone to pass the ranch down to?”
“My grandparents want the land to stay in the family.” But managing the holdings was a hell of an obligation, and developers had offered a lot of money for the property.
He could have a nice life somewhere else, debt free, with no responsibilities. Despite the temptation, he’d never been able to sign the papers. The work was meaningful, offering him satisfaction that couldn’t be bought. And he knew his forebearers had struggled and sacrificed. It didn’t seem right to turn his back.
She wrapped the blanket a little tighter around herself, and he stood to toss another couple of logs on the fire.
“What about you? As far as relationships?”
For a moment, she studied the crackling fire, as if deciding how much to reveal. “My first paying commission as an artist was from a Dominant. And that was my introduction to the lifestyle. Before we got started, both he and his submissive gave me an education. We talked about their relationship. I guess the biggest surprise for me was that they each said they received more than they gave.”
He sat back down, a little closer to her than earlier, and she didn’t scoot away.
“I loved being around them. It seemed as if they had their own form of communication. There was a reverence to it that I’d never seen before.”
While he hadn’t experienced anything like that, he, too, had witnessed it.
“I wanted something similar and was naive enough to think it was automatically part of a committed D/s relationship. You know, as if something magical happens the moment you agree to wear a Dominant’s collar.” She tipped her head back and stared at the moon for a long time.
Was she talking about one of her relationships? Despite an impatience that was uncustomary for him, Jacob remained silent, allowing her the space to sort through what she wanted to say.
“His name was Robby.”
“Go on.”
She wiggled around until she was facing him. “I met him at the club, and a couple of months later, I moved in to his apartment.”
Undoubtedly she’d left a lot out.
“It was a mistake. Maybe my worst. He had rules about everything, and they changed continually. It got to the point I couldn’t do anything right, and I was in trouble all the time.” She looked away for a moment. “If I loved him, I’d try harder. Do better.”
Anger flashed through him. She was special, to be protected and cared for. “Was it some sort of fucked-up punishment game with him?”
“Not necessarily. He was an expert at giving me the silent treatment and withholding sex and affection. He’d sleep in the guest room. Most times, he wouldn’t tell me what I’d done wrong. He refused to attend my family’s Christmas gathering. When I asked, he told me I knew what I’d done wrong. To this day, I still don’t understand it.” She shook her head and gave a helpless shrug that knocked him in the solar plexus. “His coldness would go on until I begged for forgiveness. And he never immediately granted it. I’d have to earn it a bit at a time. Cooking him special meals, sexual favors.” She shifted, as if the confession had emotionally drained her. “I mean, that’s part of BDSM—well, of any relationship, really. Right?”
“No.” He shook his head. “There’s a big difference. I get that no two relationships are the same, but there needs to be an agreement and reciprocity. Both partners need to get what they want. BDSM is not about one person’s selfish need to be in control. And vanilla relationships should be the same way.”
“That’s what my mentors told me. It took an embarrassingly long time for me to really understand what was going on and to realize how to heal from it.” She looked away for a moment.
When she refocused on him, she gave a small smile. “I guess that was my way of telling you that I don’t date and that I confine my interactions to scenes at the club. And I haven’t done that for a long time. Not since my dad got cancer, and I needed to take on more of their responsibilities at the pub.”
He’d heard that from Hawkeye. But the pain that flitted through her eyes made Jacob’s gut clench. He had an unusual—not entirely unwelcome—compulsion to soothe her.
Leaning forward, he reached for a wayward lock of her hair. “May I?”
“Uhm…” She held his gaze even as she drew in a shallow breath. “Yes.”
His knuckles brushed the softness of her cheek as he tucked the strand back into place. He lowered his hand without touching her again. Fuck. The need to have her was a physical ache.
“Earlier, you said you were interested in pursuing me if I was willing.” Her voice was the barest whisper.
He waited.
“I’m willing.”
Around them, the entire night became preternaturally silent. He heard the sound of his own heartbeat. His cock hardened. He’d never wanted anything more. “Tell me what you’re offering. Friendship? Sex? Or do you want to submit to me?”
* * *
Heat seared Elissa’s lungs,and it was then she realized she was holding her breath.
Admitting she was interested in him was one thing. Telling him what she really wanted was terrifying.
At the club, the Doms were vetted. And she had been going there for so long that she knew most of them, at least by reputation. This, though, was entering uncharted territory. She trusted Jacob, but it had been so long since she’d been with someone new. Though attraction sizzled, she needed walls of protection around her vulnerabilities. “There would need to be rules, as well as a safe word.”
He nodded, as she expected he would. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“I’ll go with red.” She appreciated that he kept distance between them while they negotiated, but it would be so much easier to have the conversation if she were in his arms.
“And yellow for slow?”
“Yes.”
“And your limits?”
“Because we haven’t played together, I want to go slow.”
He offered a quick, disarming grin. “Rope?”
Of course he’d remembered that from their earlier conversation. “Yes.”
“Impact play?”
“Nothing too hard, at least for now.” She shuddered, recalling a painful experience with Robby. “No canes or knife play, ever. Those are a hard limit. And nothing that would be permanent—I mean not that we’d have time for that, anyway.”
“Agreed.” He nodded. “Anything else?”
She shook her head. “If I’m gagged, I want to be sure I have a safe signal.”
“Of course. As we discussed, safe, sane, consensual. I don’t play dangerously, and I’d never put you at risk.”
While he hadn’t needed to say that, she was glad he had. It helped tamp down the tiny whispers of apprehension.
“And sex?”
Was she ready for that? The truth was, yes. She’d gone without a physical connection for so long that it consumed her. “As long as we use condoms.” Robby had been awful about that. He hated the things, and he’d start with one on because she insisted, but sometimes he’d take it off during intercourse. Because of that, she ended up going on the Pill so he couldn’t get her pregnant unless it was a joint decision.
In retrospect, that she’d even made that decision should have given her a clue that the relationship was in trouble. When he discovered what she’d done, fury had consumed him. He’d left for three days, and when he returned, he refused to have sex with her. Instead, he insisted on her servicing him. His anger burned for more than a month.
“And as for your rules?”
“We need to agree this is a temporary arrangement. Like we’d have at a club. It doesn’t mean anything. When this is over, we’ll walk away and forget each other.”
“Sorry, Elissa.” He shook his head. “I can’t agree to that.”
She scooted as far away from him as possible.
“You’re not some random woman I can fuck and forget.”
At his raw crudeness, she flinched.
“I’m sorry you’re offended. But that’s not how this works.” He took a breath. When he continued, his tone was low, but his words were measured and uncompromising. “You matter to me, and you have since the moment I saw your picture. I can’t dictate your emotions, and if you want to detach sex from your feelings, go ahead. But don’t expect the same from me.”
The force of his reaction stunned her. The men she played with were happy to scene and then go back to their regular lives. She hadn’t expected him to be any different.
“Those are my terms.” He paused to study her. “Now it’s up to you. Do you still want to play?”
