Page 43 of Dare to Love Again

“Goodnight, lass.”

He waited while she buckled up, taking a few fumbling tries with trembling fingers. Before he closed the door, he leaned in. “Next time, no black leather. Something clingy in pink,” he suggested. “Lace would be a nice touch. But no panties in the club, lass. Master’s orders.”

When she stared back at him and nodded dazedly at his orders, he grinned.

“Drive safe,” were his last words before he shut the door.

Esme navigated the deserted streets of West Hollywood then turned north toward home, the soft glow of streetlights casting long shadows across her path. While she drove, she puzzled over his unusual no-sex-at-a-sex-club approach. She replayed the evening in her head; the memory causing a smile to curve her lips. Feeling a mix of confusion, excitement, and hope, she shook her head and tried to tamp down the last one. It was too early to think of anything beyond their next session. But oh, how she wished for the superpower to make time move faster and make it Tuesday already.

Chapter 11

EVEN THOUGH SHE’D SPENTmost of the weekend napping a lot, she didn’t feel the least bit rested. She placed the blame solely at Master Finn’s feet for leaving her well spanked, thoroughly kissed, but humming with a burning, unfulfilled need. She’d gone home, dumped dry food in Phin’s bowl then went to the garage and dug through several storage boxes to find her vibrator. Batteries were the next search since the little pink bullet had sat mostly unused ever since her disappointing forays to the public clubs a few years back. After that, she’d sublimated her need for sex with work, something which had been surprisingly easy.

Evidently, with some women, the libido was like a light switch. Once turned off, it stayed off until something jolted it back on.

In Esme’s case, the jolt was a tall, dark-haired dom with compelling green eyes and a sexy Irish accent. After her long stretch of dormancy, it was like blasting into sexual overdrive. And following her session Friday night, breaking her dry spell with Finn was all she could think of. She’d pretty much worn out her little pocket-buddy vibe by the time Monday morning rolled around.

While seated at her desk, she couldn’t detect any lingering effects from the spanking. No tenderness or heat, not even the tiniest ache, although other adjacent parts didn’t fare so well. That it resulted from self-induced pleasure was disappointing. Good thing her batteries were nearly dead, and she had two days for her clit to recover until she saw him again.

Pushing all thoughts of sex, the club, and Master Finn to the back of her mind, she booted up her computer. When she slid out her keyboard, the fluorescent-green sticky note in the center made her frown.

Morales brief past due. Get it done.

“Idiot,” Esme uttered under her breath.

She’d laid the file on her boss’ desk along with three others before he’d come into the office and turned it upside down Friday afternoon. But what did she expect when, at least once a week, he couldn’t find the glasses perched on top of his head or the cell phone in his hand? He reminded her of the absent-minded professor.

Esme let out a sigh, tired, even though the day had barely started. It shouldn’t be this way. She’d had such high hopes for this job.

Shortly after moving to LA, she’d received a job offer from Shoemaker, Reinhart, and Associates. She’d been thrilled to find something so quickly, especially working for an experienced litigator with over thirty years in private practice. Rather than an overbearing, arrogant stereotype, Robert Shoemaker, the senior partner, was a friendly, fatherly type who loved to teach. But shortly after she joined the firm, he retired because of health issues.

This left her reporting to Gerald Reinhart.

In his mid-forties, Gerald was still a fit, good-looking man. He knew it, too, and used it to his advantage with the ladies, which had led him down the path to divorce, twice. His ex-wives, according to him, had taken him to the cleaners. Esme felt this was appropriate payback for a cheating spouse, but she kept her opinion to herself.

Gerald didn’t bother her, and in the time she’d worked at the firm, she’d never heard of any monkey business going on with any of the staff. He was all business at the office.

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