His To Control (Page 10)

“Good, keep it that way.”

“You’re taking her at the club, aren’t you?”

William closed his eyes, counted to ten, and then turned back to his friend. “She needs my help. Daisy came to me, and I’m not going to let her go because of people disliking her.”

“I’m not trying to say that, William. I knew there was something going on between the two of you the moment you began to defend her.”

William flicked the badge of his keys between his fingers. Images of Daisy over his knee entered his mind and went straight to his cock. He wanted to sink into her warm heat. William wanted to hear her scream out her pleasure. What would his name sound like coming from her lips?

“No woman has ever gotten to you this way.”

“She’s not just any woman.”

“I know, William. She’s younger than you.”

“So is Amy for you, but that didn’t stop you.”

“I’m here if you need me.”

William nodded his head at his friend’s offer. “I don’t know if anything will come of my time with her. She needs something, and I’m more than happy to give it to her.

“I’ll see you around,” Gabriel said, then turned back and began walking the way he’d come.

William got in his car and drove back to the club. Peter was already back cleaning glasses. William took a seat at the bar wondering what life was going to be like. At forty-five he was already beginning to feel his years. Daisy was young and vibrant. He knew he could bring out the best inside her.

Peter put a cup of coffee in front of him. “How did it go?” he asked.

“The same as always. David and Paul are blaming Daisy for all the wrong in their lives instead of getting past it.”

“I saw that she got home safely. She’s living in my old apartment. It is a good little place.” Peter smiled.

“Dean and Laura were there,” William said. The smile on Peter’s face vanished.

“How are they?” he asked.

William knew he should tell Peter the truth, but he couldn’t do it. It was hard enough seeing Peter’s pain on a daily basis. The poor guy needed to move on.

“They’re happy.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

Silence surrounded them. William drank his coffee while Peter cleaned his glasses.

“I was wondering if you’d considered employing more people to work here,” Peter asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Gabriel mentioned at some point you had a club back in the city. A well respected and busy club. Do you think if we got some of your old employees back, we’d bring more business over here?”

William thought about it. He’d been considering using some of his old contacts to try to bring more people into his club. “It might be something I consider,” William said. “I’m going to go and look up a few friends and check out some of my contacts. Can I leave you alone for a few hours?”

“Sure, I’m going to get the bar ready, and then go and do some target practice on the coiled whip.”

William shook his head, laughing. “Target practice?”

“Yeah, I’ve got to be able to hit my target without damaging the surface. I’d never want to scar a woman, William.”

William tapped Peter on the back and started back to his office. In all of his years of training to become a Dom, he’d never thought of target practise as a description.

****

Daisy was exhausted, but a loud banging sound was interrupting her sweet and pleasant dreams. She moaned, not wanting to leave the warmth William had created inside her. When she opened her eyes and saw she was back inside her own apartment, she groaned. Dreams were a pleasure and a curse.

Would William ever consider binding her to a post and then f**king her from behind? Where were all these fantasies coming from?

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she said.

She stood up and moved down the hall toward the door. There was no security peep hole, so she had to open the door in order to see who was knocking. Her mother, Tracy McAllister, stood on the opposite side. Daisy stared at her mother. Her heart pounded as she saw the grim line of her mouth, which was always in the same bitter line it was currently sporting. She looked into her mother’s green eyes, and there was all the nastiness she needed to see.

“What do you want?” Daisy asked. She felt ten years old with her mother standing glowering at her.

“Your temper tantrum has gone on long enough. Are you going to invite me inside, or will you be as rude as some people are in this town?” Tracy asked.

Daisy didn’t want her inside her house. Seeing no other alternative, she moved aside and let her mother enter.

Tracy didn’t wait for her. She moved through to the main apartment. “This place is a tip. How can you live in a pig-sty?” Her mother stared up and down at her. “There is my answer. You’ve stopped the diet already? Wow, you’ll be the size of an elephant in no time.”

She hadn’t been able to say anything else. Daisy moved toward her small kitchen. The tears filled her eyes as she filled the kettle. Like so many times before, she forced them down as she listened to her mother curse and begin rearranging her living space.

“Why are you here?” Daisy asked when she could no longer bear it.

“What, a mother cannot come and see her daughter?” Tracy asked. She was perched on the end of the small sofa that had been left behind by Peter.

“You’ve never cared about me, Mom. Why are you trying now?”

“I’ve heard you’ve been to that horrid club we’re trying to get shut down.”

“Control?” Daisy asked.

“Yes, I can not accept you going to such a disgusting place. Have you heard what the owner is? He’s a pervert of the highest order. I want you back home where I can make sure you’re not in any trouble.”

Daisy ignored her mother. She stared out of the window and saw the sun was beginning to set. “What time is it?” she asked.

“Who cares what time it is? Start packing your things.”

“No, I’m not going home.”

“I will not let you live here.”

“Mom, this is not your choice. Yes, I’ve been hanging out at Control. I like it there.”  Before Daisy could react her mother slapped her on the face. The palm on her cheek hurt.

“How dare you behave like a slut, ruining our good name?”

Tears spilled down her cheeks. The pain in her cheek was nothing compared to the anger she felt at her mother’s words. “I’m the slut? I’m not the one who has a daughter by a married man. My father, one of the other generation of Steer men, slept with you while they were married. I’m not the slut. You are.”