Chapter 9 – Julian
I’m enjoying dinner with Preston when I get a call from my head of security. I know it’s not good.
“Got into an altercation at the club,” he candidly reports. “Everything’s taken care of. No police. Your girlfriend’s pissed, though.”
“What happened? Did someone touch her?”
“Some frat guy tried to move in on her while she was dancing. I attempted to put a stop to it, and he slung a wild one at me. No damage done. Nothing but his pride, sir.”
“Good work. How’s Alyssa?”
“Like I said. She’s pissed. Ruined the fun for her and the other girls.”
“She’ll get over it. Make sure she’s put into my car and taken straight to my residence.”
“Roger that, sir.”
I hang up and shove my phone into my jacket pocket. Preston looks up from his dinner, still chewing on his steak. “Problem with your girlfriend?” he asks.
“Nothing Stu couldn’t take care of. A few men didn’t know how to keep their hands to themselves at your newest club.”
“Is that a specific jibe at my expense? Because I’ll have you know that the bouncers at that place are top notch. Or so my manager there assures me.”
Typical Preston. Beyond the initial preparations, he has nothing to do with his properties beyond dropping in once in a while to party and to make sure his coffers remain filled. I don’t have anything to do with them. I’ve got my own money-making projects on the side, and so does Preston. The only reason I was so blasé about “letting” Alyssa go out with her girlfriends tonight was because he owned the club she name dropped. I should have known better. Then again, maybe I subconsciously did… hence why I sent Stu after them while I kept to old haunts I knew I could count on to watch my back.
I push my chair back and stand, politely asking the server who swings by to box up the remainder of my dinner for me to take home to finish. I do not doubt that Alyssa will be heading back to my place shortly, especially if Stu is in charge around there now. I need to beat them there and make sure she comes home to the perfect image already in my head.
Alyssa needs to learn a few lessons. Sometimes I forget how young she still is, since I’m at a point in my life where I don’t usually fool around with women whose brains haven’t fully developed yet. I should have known this would happen. A group of young women at a nightclub full of men loaded up on testosterone and alcohol. The only way this night could have ended was with them being flirted with to the point of depravity.
I don’t care what those other girls do. I only care that Alyssa knows she is not to fraternize with other men. Ever. That is one of the hardest lines she could think about crossing around me. Otherwise, I don’t ask for much, other than her time and attentions. She wants to clear going out with some friends, study groups, or family? That’s fine. I’m willing to work with that. But the moment a man in her vicinity starts sniffing around her… and she humors him? She needs to know how to recognize those moments and shut them down.
Looks like I’m going to have to show her how.
I call Vern the moment I’m in the back of a cab back to my place. I tell him what I need, and when I hang up, I already feel a ton better.
I’m not calling Alyssa. I also don’t get a text from her. I don’t need one. Stu briefly calls me back and confirms that he and my driver are about to drop her off in the lobby of my building.
Before I continue, let me make one thing clear.
I had not planned on digging into this level of our relationship so soon. If at all.
I enjoy a lot of unconventional pleasures in my life. I don’t see women as being beneath me, but I do recognize the unique place they have in the world. Now, whether that place is because of biology or the intrinsic fates of our society, I can’t say. Nor do I desire to jump deeply into it. That’s for men and women in other fields of academia to explore. I’ll sit on the sidelines and absorb what they decide and apply it to my own life however I please.
Fact of the matter is, many women enjoy submitting in relationships, and many men enjoy dominating. I’d say that Alyssa and I are definitely on the road to enjoying those types of pleasures as well, particularly in our personal lives. How she desires to conduct herself at work is something we can go over together later. For now, I want her to understand how things work personally.
There are items in my possession that will do that. But I’m not interested in many third-party tools and toys. Not when most foreplay is psychological.
I’m waiting for her in my living room when she arrives. Her sparkly blue tube dress is both trashy and chic – trashy because of the poor, cheap quality, and chic because of how good it looks on her curvy frame. The rest of her has looked better, however. Her hair is a little tangled from the wind, light rain splatter, and the sweat lining her forehead. Her makeup isn’t as fresh as it was this afternoon. Her shoes are in her hand the moment she walks into my penthouse, and the sight of relief she exhales screams that she’s happy to be barefoot again.
I let her have this small reprieve. We need to talk.
“Julian!” Has she only now noticed me? Not like I’m sitting in the dark or trying to hide in the shadows. Honestly, I’m rather put out that she’s so entrenched in her own reality that she doesn’t see me right away. “I can explain what happened tonight.”
“No need. Stu filled me in after he had to get involved. Someone tried to put their hands on you?”
She drops her clutch in one of my chairs and leans against my furniture. “Don’t know if I would put it that way. I was dancing with Cher and these guys decided they wanted to dance with us. Stu was the one who made shit awkward and antagonized the other guys.”
What my fair and young Alyssa doesn’t realize is that those men would’ve been antagonized by anything. Better for my bodyguard to be the one to do it than any of the women there. At least Stu can physically defend himself with no issues. “You were dancing with other men.”
“I know what that sounds like, but I swear…”
“No need to swear anything, Lyssa. I was under the impression that you were going out with your girlfriends to blow off some steam with female company. That was fine. What I’m not fine with is you fraternizing with strange women we don’t know we can trust.”
“But…”
“Alyssa.” I stand up with the same authority I command in the boardroom. It has the desire effect: she takes a step back, eyes wide. “Don’t be naïve. I didn’t have to be there to know that at least one of those men had decided on sleeping with you tonight. Even if you had no intention of doing so, the fact of the matter is you would’ve been in a dangerous position.”
She throws her hands up. “So what am I supposed to do? I told those guys I had a boyfriend. What do you want from me?”
Her anger is beauty personified. Passionate. Determined. Ready to go toe-to-toe with me, and I damn well deserve it. That doesn’t mean I won’t put up a fight, however. If Alyssa wants to continue growing like this, then she needs someone who will always challenge her to rethink her positions and to make compelling arguments.
That person is going to be me, by the way. I am going to challenge her every step of the way. It’s what she obviously wanted when she started working as an intern in my office.
“Come with me,” I say, gesturing her toward my bedroom. “There’s something I want to show you. That’s what I want from you.”
“Oh my God, Julian.” She rolls her eyes before falling in step behind me. “What is it this time? More whips and chains?”
No. Not that. Something like that, though.
I turn on the light in my bedroom. She stops in the doorway, flummoxed. Gasping. Too far gone into disbelief to be of any use in the world of conversation right now.
“You have got to be kidding me!” she finally says.
Oh, dear Alyssa, no man is ever kidding when he presents you with a comfortable collar and a pretty leash to go with it. That’s simply not how we function.
No, when we present our dearest women with these implements, we mean a different kind of business entirely.
“The night’s still young, Lyssa. Why don’t you and I explore what it truly means for you to belong to me?”
Honestly, I’m shocked that she doesn’t slap me, but that’s a good sign. It means we’re on the same page, whether she wants to admit it or not.
