1
Chapter One
“Ms. King,” the receptionist said. “Mr. West will see you now.”
I stood, wondered for the twenty‐fifth time what I was doing, and went to open the door leading
to the office I’d traveled across town to enter. On the other side was my darkest fantasy, and by
stepping inside, I’d be making it a reality.
he fact my hands didn’t shake as the door opened and I walked into his office. I was proud of t
Step one: done.
Nathaniel West sat at a large mahogany desk, typing on a computer. He didn’t look up or slow
his strokes. I might as well not even have entered, but I dropped my eyes just in case.
I stood still while I waited. Face looking at the floor, hands to my sides, feet spread to the exact
width of my shoulders.
p on Nathaniel’s desk gave a muted light. Outside the sun had set, but the lam
utes? Twenty? Had it been ten min
He was still typing.
I counted my breaths. My heart finally slowed from the rocket speed it’d been racing at before
I entered the office.
utes passed. Another ten min
Or maybe thirty.
He stopped typing.
“Abigail King,” he said.
2
I started slightly, but kept my head down.
Step two: done.
I heard him pick up a stack of papers and tap them into a pile. Ridiculous. From what I knew of
Nathaniel West, they would have already been in a neat pile. It was another test.
He pushed his chair back, wheels rolling over the hardwood floor the only sound in the quiet
room. He walked with measured, even steps until I felt him behind me.
A hand lifted my hair away from my neck, and warm breath tickled my ear. “You have no
references.”
No, I didn’t. Just a crazy fantasy. Should I tell him? No. I sho u ld remain s ilen t . My h ear t b ea t
faster.
“I would have you know,” he continued, “that I’m not interested in training a submissive. My
submissives have always been fully trained.”
to b as what I wanted. To be under a man’s control. Crazy. I was crazy e here. But it w
No. Not any man. This man’s control.
“Are you sure this is what you want, Abigail?” He wrapped my hair around his fist and gave a
gentle tug. “You need to be sure.”
tain he heard my heart beating, but I stood where I was. My throat was dry, and I was fairly cer
ned to his desk. He chuckled and retur
“Look at me, Abigail.”
I’d seen his picture before. Everyone knew Nathaniel West, owner and CEO of West Industries.
The pictures didn’t do the man justice. His skin was lightly tanned and set off the deep green of
his eyes. His thick dark hair begged you to run your fingers through it. To grab on it and pull his
lips t
o your own.
His fingers tapped rhythmically on his desk. Long, strong fingers. I felt my knees go weak just
3
thinking about what those fingers could do.
Across from me, Nathaniel gave the faintest of smiles, and I made myself remember where I
was. And why.
He spoke again. “I’m not interested in why you decided to submit your application. If I select
you and you are agreeable to my terms, your past won’t matter.” He picked up the papers I
recog e ” nized as my application and ruffled through them. “I know what I ne d to.
I recalled filling out the application—the checklists, the blood tests he’d required, the
confirmation of the birth control I was on. Likewise, before today’s meeting, I’d been sent his
information for review. I knew his blood type, his test results, his hard limits, and the things he
enjoyed doing with, and to, play partners.
We stood in silence for several long minutes.
“You have no training,” he said. “But you’re very good.”
Silence again as he stood and walked to the large window behind his desk. It was completely
dark, and I saw his reflection in the glass. Our eyes met, and I looked down.
ok away.” “I rather like you, Abigail King. Although I don’t recall telling you to lo
I hoped I hadn’t messed up beyond redemption and looked back up.
“Yes, I think a weekend test is in order.” He turned from the window and loosened his tie. “If
you agree, you will come to my estate this Friday night at six exactly. I’ll have a car pick you up.
We’ll
have dinner and take it from there.”
He placed his tie on the couch to his right and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. “I have
certain expectations of my submissives. You are to get at least eight hours of sleep every Sunday
through Thursday night. You will eat a balanced diet—I will have a meal plan e‐mailed to you. You
will also run one mile, three times a week. Twice a week you will engage in strength and endurance
training at my gym. A membership will be created for you starting tomorrow. Do you have any
4
concerns about any of this?”
Another test. I didn’t say anything.
He smiled. “You may speak freely.”
Finally. I licked my lips. “I’m not the most . . . athletic, Mr. West. I’m not much of a runner.”
“You must learn not to let your weakness rule you, Abigail.” He walked to his desk and wrote
something down. “Three times a week you will also attend yoga classes. They have these at the gym.
Anything else?”
I shook my head.
“Very well. I will see you Friday night.” He held out some papers to me. “These will have
everything you need to know.”
I took the papers. And waited.
He smiled again. “You are excused.”
5
Chapter Two
The door to the apartment next to mine opened as I walked by. My best friend, Felicia Kelly, stepped
out into the hallway. Felicia and I had been friends forever, having grown up together in the same
small Indiana town. Throughout elementary and middle school we sat side by side, thanks to the
alphabetical seating arrangements. After high school graduation, we attended the same college in
New York, where we quickly learned that if we wanted to remain best friends, we should live as
neighbors and not roommates.
Though I loved her like the sister I’d never had, she could at times be bossy and overbearing.
Likewise, my need for regular quiet time drove her mad. And, apparently, so had my meeting with
Nathaniel.
“Abby King!” Her hands were on her hips. “Did you have your phone off ? You went to see that
West guy, didn’t you?”
I just smiled at her.
“Honestly, Abby,” she said. “I don’t know why I even bother.”
“I know. Tell me, why do you bother?” I asked as she followed me inside. Settling down on the
couch, I started reading the papers Nathaniel had given me. “By the way, I won’t be here this
weekend.”
Felicia gave a loud sigh. “You went. I knew you would. Once you get an idea in your head, you
just m You don’t even think about the outcome.” ove right on ahead.
I continued reading.
6
“You think you’re so smart. Well, what do you think the library will say about this? What will
your father think?”
My father still lived in Indiana, and though we weren’t close, I was certain he’d have a definite
opinion about my visit to Nathaniel’s office. A very negative opinion. Regardless, there was no way
anyone was going to discuss my sex life with him.
I set the papers down. “You’re not saying a word to my dad, and my personal life isn’t the
library’s business. Got it?”
Felicia sat down and examined her nails. “I don’t got anything.” She grabbed the papers. “What
are these?”
“Give those back.” I yanked the papers from her.
“Really,” she said. “If you want to be dominated so badly, I know several men who would be
more than willing to oblige.”
“I’m not interested in your ex‐boyfriends.”
march into a strange man’s house and let him do who‐knows‐what to you?” “So you’re going to
“It’s not like that.”
She walked over to my laptop and turned it on. “So what is it like, exactly?” She leaned back in
her chair while the screen booted up. “Being a rich man’s mistress?”
“I’m not his mistress. I’m his submissive. Make yourself at home, by the way. Please, feel free to
use my laptop.”
ped e much She ty frantically on the k yboard. “Right. Submissive. That’s so better.”
“It is. Everyone knows that the submissive holds all the power in the relationship.” Felicia
hadn
’t done the research I had.
“Does Nathaniel West know that?” She had pulled up Google and was searching Nathaniel’s
name. Fine. Let her find him.
7
All at once, his handsome face filled the screen. He was looking at us with those piercing green
eyes. One a tiful blonde at his side. rm was wrapped around a beau
Mine, the stupid side of my brain said.
This Friday night through Sunday afternoon, the more responsible side countered.
“Who’s she?” Felicia asked.
“My predecessor, I suppose,” I mumbled, returning to reality. I was an idiot. To think he’d want
me after he’d had that.
fill, girlfriend.” “You’ve got some pretty high stilettos to
I only nodded. Felicia noticed, of course.
u don’t even wear stilettos.” “Damn it, Abby. Yo
I sighed. “I know.”
Felicia shook her head and clicked the next link. I looked away, not needing to see another shot
of the blonde goddess.
me.” “Hello, baby,” she said. “Now, I’d let him dominate me anyti
I looked up to see a picture of another handsome man. Jackson Clark, New York quarterback,
the caption said.
“You didn’t tell me he was related to a professional football player.”
I didn’t know. But it’d do no good to tell Felicia any of this—she was no longer paying me any
attention.
“I wonder if Jackson is married,” she mumbled, clicking on links to bring up more information
on hi be we can pull up more detail on the blonde chick.” s family. “Doesn’t look like it. Hmm, may
“Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“Nope,” she said. “Nothing to do but sit here and make your life miserable.”
“Show yourself out,” I said, walking into my bedroom. She could spend all night digging up
8
whatever she wanted on Nathaniel—I had reading to do.
I took the papers Nathaniel had given me and curled up on my bed, tucking my legs up under
me. The first page had his address and contact information. His estate was a two‐hour drive from
the city, and I wondered if he had another property, closer to town. He had also given me the
security code to get through his gate and his cell phone number should I need anything.
Or in case you come to your senses, that annoying smart part of my brain chimed in.
The second page had the details of my gym membership and the exercise program I would
have to follow. I swallowed the unease thoughts of running brought up. More details followed on the
strength and endurance classes he wanted me to take. At the bottom, in very neat cursive, was the
name and number of the yoga instructor.
Page three informed me I’d have no need to bring any bags with me on Friday. Nathaniel
would provide all the toiletries and clothing I needed. Interesting, that. But what else did I expect? It
also contained the same instructions he’d given me earlier—eight hours of sleep, balanced meals—
nothing new there.
Page four listed Nathaniel’s favorite meals. Good thing I could cook. I’d look closer at those
lat er.
Page five.
Let’s just say page five left me hot, bothered, and waiting for Friday.
Chapter One
“Ms. King,” the receptionist said. “Mr. West will see you now.”
I stood, wondered for the twenty‐fifth time what I was doing, and went to open the door leading
to the office I’d traveled across town to enter. On the other side was my darkest fantasy, and by
stepping inside, I’d be making it a reality.
he fact my hands didn’t shake as the door opened and I walked into his office. I was proud of t
Step one: done.
Nathaniel West sat at a large mahogany desk, typing on a computer. He didn’t look up or slow
his strokes. I might as well not even have entered, but I dropped my eyes just in case.
I stood still while I waited. Face looking at the floor, hands to my sides, feet spread to the exact
width of my shoulders.
p on Nathaniel’s desk gave a muted light. Outside the sun had set, but the lam
utes? Twenty? Had it been ten min
He was still typing.
I counted my breaths. My heart finally slowed from the rocket speed it’d been racing at before
I entered the office.
utes passed. Another ten min
Or maybe thirty.
He stopped typing.
“Abigail King,” he said.
2
I started slightly, but kept my head down.
Step two: done.
I heard him pick up a stack of papers and tap them into a pile. Ridiculous. From what I knew of
Nathaniel West, they would have already been in a neat pile. It was another test.
He pushed his chair back, wheels rolling over the hardwood floor the only sound in the quiet
room. He walked with measured, even steps until I felt him behind me.
A hand lifted my hair away from my neck, and warm breath tickled my ear. “You have no
references.”
No, I didn’t. Just a crazy fantasy. Should I tell him? No. I sho u ld remain s ilen t . My h ear t b ea t
faster.
“I would have you know,” he continued, “that I’m not interested in training a submissive. My
submissives have always been fully trained.”
to b as what I wanted. To be under a man’s control. Crazy. I was crazy e here. But it w
No. Not any man. This man’s control.
“Are you sure this is what you want, Abigail?” He wrapped my hair around his fist and gave a
gentle tug. “You need to be sure.”
tain he heard my heart beating, but I stood where I was. My throat was dry, and I was fairly cer
ned to his desk. He chuckled and retur
“Look at me, Abigail.”
I’d seen his picture before. Everyone knew Nathaniel West, owner and CEO of West Industries.
The pictures didn’t do the man justice. His skin was lightly tanned and set off the deep green of
his eyes. His thick dark hair begged you to run your fingers through it. To grab on it and pull his
lips t
o your own.
His fingers tapped rhythmically on his desk. Long, strong fingers. I felt my knees go weak just
3
thinking about what those fingers could do.
Across from me, Nathaniel gave the faintest of smiles, and I made myself remember where I
was. And why.
He spoke again. “I’m not interested in why you decided to submit your application. If I select
you and you are agreeable to my terms, your past won’t matter.” He picked up the papers I
recog e ” nized as my application and ruffled through them. “I know what I ne d to.
I recalled filling out the application—the checklists, the blood tests he’d required, the
confirmation of the birth control I was on. Likewise, before today’s meeting, I’d been sent his
information for review. I knew his blood type, his test results, his hard limits, and the things he
enjoyed doing with, and to, play partners.
We stood in silence for several long minutes.
“You have no training,” he said. “But you’re very good.”
Silence again as he stood and walked to the large window behind his desk. It was completely
dark, and I saw his reflection in the glass. Our eyes met, and I looked down.
ok away.” “I rather like you, Abigail King. Although I don’t recall telling you to lo
I hoped I hadn’t messed up beyond redemption and looked back up.
“Yes, I think a weekend test is in order.” He turned from the window and loosened his tie. “If
you agree, you will come to my estate this Friday night at six exactly. I’ll have a car pick you up.
We’ll
have dinner and take it from there.”
He placed his tie on the couch to his right and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. “I have
certain expectations of my submissives. You are to get at least eight hours of sleep every Sunday
through Thursday night. You will eat a balanced diet—I will have a meal plan e‐mailed to you. You
will also run one mile, three times a week. Twice a week you will engage in strength and endurance
training at my gym. A membership will be created for you starting tomorrow. Do you have any
4
concerns about any of this?”
Another test. I didn’t say anything.
He smiled. “You may speak freely.”
Finally. I licked my lips. “I’m not the most . . . athletic, Mr. West. I’m not much of a runner.”
“You must learn not to let your weakness rule you, Abigail.” He walked to his desk and wrote
something down. “Three times a week you will also attend yoga classes. They have these at the gym.
Anything else?”
I shook my head.
“Very well. I will see you Friday night.” He held out some papers to me. “These will have
everything you need to know.”
I took the papers. And waited.
He smiled again. “You are excused.”
5
Chapter Two
The door to the apartment next to mine opened as I walked by. My best friend, Felicia Kelly, stepped
out into the hallway. Felicia and I had been friends forever, having grown up together in the same
small Indiana town. Throughout elementary and middle school we sat side by side, thanks to the
alphabetical seating arrangements. After high school graduation, we attended the same college in
New York, where we quickly learned that if we wanted to remain best friends, we should live as
neighbors and not roommates.
Though I loved her like the sister I’d never had, she could at times be bossy and overbearing.
Likewise, my need for regular quiet time drove her mad. And, apparently, so had my meeting with
Nathaniel.
“Abby King!” Her hands were on her hips. “Did you have your phone off ? You went to see that
West guy, didn’t you?”
I just smiled at her.
“Honestly, Abby,” she said. “I don’t know why I even bother.”
“I know. Tell me, why do you bother?” I asked as she followed me inside. Settling down on the
couch, I started reading the papers Nathaniel had given me. “By the way, I won’t be here this
weekend.”
Felicia gave a loud sigh. “You went. I knew you would. Once you get an idea in your head, you
just m You don’t even think about the outcome.” ove right on ahead.
I continued reading.
6
“You think you’re so smart. Well, what do you think the library will say about this? What will
your father think?”
My father still lived in Indiana, and though we weren’t close, I was certain he’d have a definite
opinion about my visit to Nathaniel’s office. A very negative opinion. Regardless, there was no way
anyone was going to discuss my sex life with him.
I set the papers down. “You’re not saying a word to my dad, and my personal life isn’t the
library’s business. Got it?”
Felicia sat down and examined her nails. “I don’t got anything.” She grabbed the papers. “What
are these?”
“Give those back.” I yanked the papers from her.
“Really,” she said. “If you want to be dominated so badly, I know several men who would be
more than willing to oblige.”
“I’m not interested in your ex‐boyfriends.”
march into a strange man’s house and let him do who‐knows‐what to you?” “So you’re going to
“It’s not like that.”
She walked over to my laptop and turned it on. “So what is it like, exactly?” She leaned back in
her chair while the screen booted up. “Being a rich man’s mistress?”
“I’m not his mistress. I’m his submissive. Make yourself at home, by the way. Please, feel free to
use my laptop.”
ped e much She ty frantically on the k yboard. “Right. Submissive. That’s so better.”
“It is. Everyone knows that the submissive holds all the power in the relationship.” Felicia
hadn
’t done the research I had.
“Does Nathaniel West know that?” She had pulled up Google and was searching Nathaniel’s
name. Fine. Let her find him.
7
All at once, his handsome face filled the screen. He was looking at us with those piercing green
eyes. One a tiful blonde at his side. rm was wrapped around a beau
Mine, the stupid side of my brain said.
This Friday night through Sunday afternoon, the more responsible side countered.
“Who’s she?” Felicia asked.
“My predecessor, I suppose,” I mumbled, returning to reality. I was an idiot. To think he’d want
me after he’d had that.
fill, girlfriend.” “You’ve got some pretty high stilettos to
I only nodded. Felicia noticed, of course.
u don’t even wear stilettos.” “Damn it, Abby. Yo
I sighed. “I know.”
Felicia shook her head and clicked the next link. I looked away, not needing to see another shot
of the blonde goddess.
me.” “Hello, baby,” she said. “Now, I’d let him dominate me anyti
I looked up to see a picture of another handsome man. Jackson Clark, New York quarterback,
the caption said.
“You didn’t tell me he was related to a professional football player.”
I didn’t know. But it’d do no good to tell Felicia any of this—she was no longer paying me any
attention.
“I wonder if Jackson is married,” she mumbled, clicking on links to bring up more information
on hi be we can pull up more detail on the blonde chick.” s family. “Doesn’t look like it. Hmm, may
“Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“Nope,” she said. “Nothing to do but sit here and make your life miserable.”
“Show yourself out,” I said, walking into my bedroom. She could spend all night digging up
8
whatever she wanted on Nathaniel—I had reading to do.
I took the papers Nathaniel had given me and curled up on my bed, tucking my legs up under
me. The first page had his address and contact information. His estate was a two‐hour drive from
the city, and I wondered if he had another property, closer to town. He had also given me the
security code to get through his gate and his cell phone number should I need anything.
Or in case you come to your senses, that annoying smart part of my brain chimed in.
The second page had the details of my gym membership and the exercise program I would
have to follow. I swallowed the unease thoughts of running brought up. More details followed on the
strength and endurance classes he wanted me to take. At the bottom, in very neat cursive, was the
name and number of the yoga instructor.
Page three informed me I’d have no need to bring any bags with me on Friday. Nathaniel
would provide all the toiletries and clothing I needed. Interesting, that. But what else did I expect? It
also contained the same instructions he’d given me earlier—eight hours of sleep, balanced meals—
nothing new there.
Page four listed Nathaniel’s favorite meals. Good thing I could cook. I’d look closer at those
lat er.
Page five.
Let’s just say page five left me hot, bothered, and waiting for Friday.
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