A Scotch for the Road - Part 12

[flighty_dreams]

TITLE: A Scotch for the Road
AUTHOR: flighty_dreams
WARNINGS: Slavefic. NC-17.  F/m.
WORD COUNT: 4,547 (this chapter)/ story so far (over 30K)
SUMMARY: A slave enduring a party encounters more than he bargained for.
NOTES: Thanks to aurila for her assistance.
FEEDBACK: Always welcome, even if it's just to say that you read it.

 

Part Twelve

  

Life was hectic lately.

Her family’s company had many branches, but Jenna was involved in the electronics side of things. She didn’t run the whole department—her father ran a business, not a family charity—but she was high up in the hierarchy. Her father gave her the trickier of positions—cutting deals and contracts with other companies for equipment and transport, among other things. It was difficult work, but she was enough her father’s daughter to enjoy the negotiations.

Her work at the company was the only thing her dad had ever been proud of her for. Excelling in school, participating in extracurricular activities, and acquiring her university degree were all expected for a Vanlean-Warren; actually contributing to the family business afterwards was far more noteworthy. Too many children of the social elite ‘lazed about,’ in her father’s opinion. Jenna couldn’t disagree with him there.

Recently she and a few other Vanlean employees had been brokering a deal with Nobok Industries, a large corporation that produced microchips. As reputable and admired as Vanlean International was, it still had plenty of competition. The alliances and feuds between the Families were ever-changing, and for a corporation just reaching Family status, the waters were best tread carefully. So it was expected that Nobok’s executives would take their time and keep their options open as long as they could. The decision, once made, could never be undone.

But it left her working longer hours than she would’ve liked, especially when she had Brett waiting for her at home now. God, she wanted to sink into his arms and pretend nothing else existed. She’d settle for a warm bath and some coddling, but what she really longed for was a vacation.

Her pleasant thoughts of all the things she could do during a week spent alone with Brett were interrupted by her office phone’s ringing. It was her assistant of course; no one could call her without going through Rita first. Unfortunately, her mood didn’t improve any when she learned who the caller was.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hello, darling. I won’t keep you long, since I know you’re busy.”

Jenna smiled ruefully. She said that, but her mother also had trouble remembering to stop talking. “I can spare a few minutes.”

“Good, good.” Her mother paused, and Jenna waited with growing dread. “I’d like you to come over for dinner tonight.”

Damn. She was glad her mother couldn’t see her grimace. Keeping her tone even, she said, “Tonight? That’s a little last minute.”

“I know it’s in bad taste.” In her mother’s mind, last minute invitations were nearly as grave a sin as child molestation. “But it couldn’t be helped. Your sister is coming home a day early, and she’s bringing that new boyfriend of hers with her.”

“Todd or whatever his name is?”

“Yes, Todd. So come to dinner tonight,” her mother said in her usual steamrolling fashion.

“Mom,” she said, annoyance sharpening her tongue, “I’ve been swamped at work. I’m exhausted. I don’t want to go anywhere tonight.”

“You can relax here, Jenna.”

Not likely. “Why can’t we have this another night?” she asked, sidestepping.

“Because Todd is meeting his brother tomorrow, and they’ll be busy for the next week.”

Jenna wondered if this Todd had the same definition of ‘busy’ that she did. “Then just go on without me.”

“No, no. I want you there.” Her mom was relentless.

Jenna rolled her eyes. “I’m sure there’ll be enough of you to vet him properly.”

Her mom laughed. “I’m sure. But that wasn’t my reason for wanting you here. Victor and his new girlfriend are coming too, so it will be the whole family together again. It’s been months since that happened.”

Five months, Jenna calculated. Stacy had only come home one weekend during the last term. How her sister was able to manage that, especially when she was the youngest, Jenna had no idea. Serena Vanlean-Warren was a force not easily thwarted. But when Stacy had last visited, Victor had been away, off ‘gallivanting’ as her mother would say, which accounted for her dramatic moaning that they hadn’t been together in months.

“Mother, I’m sorry, but we can do this another time.”

“Jenna.” Reproach filled her mother’s voice, and Jenna braced for the oncoming guilt trip. “How can you reject your family just so you can sit at home alone?”

Jenna cursed silently. “Because I’m too tired to be social.”

“You use that and other excuses too easily, Jenna Claire. That’s why you haven’t had a boyfriend in so long.”

Hand tightening on the phone as if it were her mother’s neck, Jenna struggled to remain diplomatic. “You presume too much, Mother. I have to get back to work.”

 “Are you coming or not?” asked her insistent mother.

Jenna had made a point to call her regularly this week—although not too much to be suspicious. She hoped to keep her mother happy enough that she wouldn’t feel the urge to come over. If her mom visited, Jenna wouldn’t bother hiding Brett any longer. At that point her secrecy would become ridiculous.

“Fine, I’ll come,” she agreed reluctantly.

“No need to make it sound like torture,” her mother complained.

There was no way to win with the woman. “Mom, I’ll see you tonight.”

The call finally done, Jenna stifled the desire to slam the receiver onto its cradle. A glance at the contract on her desk made her shudder.

The last thing she needed tonight was to put on a cheerful smile for her family around the table. The presence of the other people there would underline that she was the only Vanlean-Warren sibling without a significant other—or at least one that was socially acceptable. It would only be a matter of time before her family started asking questions about her social life, and then a few minutes after that her mother would tell her about so-and-so’s son who was so handsome and eligible. Meanwhile her siblings would join in at times, mocking her single status. Or worse, her mom would invite a potential boyfriend to dinner without telling her, and she’d be forced to make conversation with the (probably) arrogant jackass all evening.

Either way, by the time she got home, between exhaustion and dealing with her family’s barbs, she wouldn’t want to do anything but stumble into bed. There went her plans with Brett tonight.

Brett. It was Friday, and after ordering in with Jason yesterday, Brett was supposed to make an elaborate dinner tonight. She had to tell him not only to not bother, but that she also wouldn’t be home until late.

Sighing, Jenna reached for the phone again. Coward that she was, she was glad she wouldn’t have to see the disappointment on his face. It was hard enough to deal with her own.

 

 

Brett’s return remained a secret for two more weeks.

She visited her parents once more and called regularly, satisfying her mother. She hadn’t retracted the order she’d given Brett that first night to ignore phone calls, so when it rang that night, she answered it.

“Ms. Vanlean-Warren, your brother is here to see you,” the slave doorman informed her. He manned the entrance while the security guard monitored the building.

What the hell is Victor doing here? Jenna wondered. He rarely visited her, and never without asking first. Had Jason told him? If he had, he’d soon lose a vital part of his anatomy.

“Thank you, send him up,” she said, knowing there was nothing she could do about it now.

She tossed the phone onto the couch and approached Brett anxiously. “Victor is here.”

He was tense already, expecting bad news, but it worsened upon hearing it. She embraced him, tucking her head against his shoulder as his arms surrounded her. “It’ll be all right. We knew it would happen.”

His lips brushed her hair. “What do you wish to do, Mistress?”

“Just play our expected roles, as we discussed.” She lifted her head, meeting his eyes. “Brett, don’t take what he says seriously.”

His gaze was sad and tender. “I’ll try, Jenna.”

Despite the unhappy situation, she couldn’t help smiling. He hadn’t said her name in a long time. She kissed him, just a closed press of lips before she pulled away. There was no time for more.

When the doorbell sounded half a minute later, she followed him to the foyer. Like I’d leave him to greet my brother alone. Gesturing for him to get the door, she leaned against the wall in a casual pose. Appearing nervous would imply she had something to be ashamed about.

Victor didn’t welcome Brett back with candy and flowers. Upon seeing her slave, surprise froze his features for a second, before his expression darkened with anger. Pissed, his eyes flew from Brett to Jenna. “What the-”

“Hi, Victor,” she said, her tone breezy, like her brother wasn’t a step away from a conniption.

Stepping through the open doorway, Victor ignored Brett and stalked towards her. “What’s he doing here?” Sneering, he nodded at Brett, who was closing the front door.

“I bought him,” she said, her tone conveying that the answer was obvious.

“You what?” he said, looking at her as if she were crazy. “What were you thinking? You already made an embarrassment out of yourself over him once.”

Jenna couldn’t stop the flinch; she didn’t need a reminder of how her family had reacted last time. But she took her own advice to Brett and pushed her brother’s words aside. Her voice edged with frost, she told him, “I’m free to buy a slave if I wish.”

“Any other one, but not this one!”

Face stony, she glared at him, but he kept going.

“A sweet girl to warm your bed would be perfectly acceptable, or even a different male, as long as you kept in mind his proper place and continued dating real men.” Jenna’s jaw clenched at her brother discounting Brett’s manhood, but she let him finish. “Be sensible, Jenna. Return him.”

As if he were a pair of shoes, not a person. How she bit back the snarled Never on the tip of her tongue, she didn’t know. “No.”

Aware that her brother wouldn’t leave yet, and afraid of what else she might say, she turned away, heading into the living room. She seated herself on the sofa, presenting an impression of serenity, knowing it would annoy her brother. A scowl twisting his otherwise handsome face, Victor followed her as Brett trailed after them.

Brett knelt to the side of them, not at her feet as was customary. It puzzled her for a moment, until she realized he was trying to stay out of the way. His rigid formal posture—hands behind his back, back straight but his head bowed—told her that he was distressed. He always hated being the focus of attention, probably because it usually didn’t turn out well for him.

Shoulders stiffening, Victor remained standing, his arms crossed as he glared down at her in disapproval. In that moment, he looked strikingly like their father.

“Now I know why Jason was acting weird when I asked him about you. He knows about the slave, doesn’t he?”

Jenna shrugged in response. So that was what had inspired this little visit. Her little brother always had been a nosy brat.

“But no one else does,” Victor guessed. “Mom and Dad are going to throw a fit.”

That was an understatement. “And your point is?”

He came over and sat down beside her, his expression shifting from angry to earnest. “Sis, if you get rid of him, I won’t tell them.” He smiled, her asshole brother thinking he was doing her a great favor. “There won’t be any need for them to know this ever happened.”

The fury within her was already epic in size, but a glance at Brett, despair hunching his shoulders, made it double in force. “How generous of you. What a sacrifice.”

Her sarcasm ignited her brother’s volatile temper. He stood, grabbing her arm to pull her up from the couch. “You spoiled bitch. Not caring what you do to our family, as long as you get to play with your toys,” he grated out, instinctively seeking to intimidate her with his larger size.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Brett get up. Shit, no. She wrenched herself away from Victor, quickly putting the coffee table between them—and herself between the two men. Her brother wasn’t a violent man, but he could be scary when angry. She couldn’t blame Brett for reading his behavior as threatening.

“Brett,” she said sharply, sending him a warning look, silently telling him to kneel back down. Reluctance was written in every line of his body; she’d never seen him move as woodenly as he did then, when he obeyed her. And the look he gave her, his eyes filled with a myriad of emotions—rage, concern, frustration—was one she knew would haunt her for a long time.

Of course her brother didn’t know when it was wiser to shut up. “At least the dog is devoted to his mistress.”

Catching Brett stiffening, she turned back to Victor, responding quickly. “First he’s a toy, now he’s a dog. You can’t decide, can you?”

“No,” Victor said, his face sobering, “I know what he is. You’re the one that’s confused.”

“I’m not confused.”

Her brother shook his head. “We thought you’d gotten past this. Mom said you were young and it was just a silly—and hugely inappropriate—infatuation. Give it some time and you’d realize what an idiot you’d been.”

Jenna sighed, willing him to understand. “It wasn’t an infatuation.”

His hand covered his eyes for a second. “Do not tell me you still believe yourself in love with this slave.”

Her mouth tightened into a mutinous, stubborn line. Unprepared for this confrontation—and how furious it would make her—she didn’t have convincing lies ready.

“Come on, Jenna! He’s just a slave, a useful servant and a fuck toy. He’s not a partner.”

Only because our world won’t let him be, she thought with frustration and despair, her heart aching.

“Go away, Victor. You’re making me tired.”

“Because I’m telling you what you don’t want to hear,” her brother replied, still riding his high horse. He gestured at Brett. “Look at him, kneeling there, not saying a word in your defense. You need a real man you can marry, someone to take care of you.”

His patronizing words pissed her off; she’d never need a man to make her decisions for her. “I can take care of myself.”

Victor rolled his eyes. “Fine, support you then. You know what I mean, don’t pretend you don’t.”

Oh yes, she knew what he meant. And Brett had all of that in him, if only he were allowed to express it. Tears stung her eyes for all that he could never be.

She glanced at him, and he was looking at her, sensing what she couldn’t say. Something fierce flashing in his eyes—that same tangle of emotions she’d caught before—he rose to his feet and came to her. Then he kneeled again, his shoulder touching her leg supportively.

Her fingers stroked Brett’s hair, the touch comforting both of them. “Get out of my home, Victor.”

 “What?” Her brother gaped at her, unable to believe her rudeness. She’d never kicked him out before. Unfortunately, she couldn’t physically toss him out the door herself.

“I’m not leaving,” Victor hissed then, glaring at her. “Not until you realize you need to grow up.”

“I need to grow up?” Jenna exclaimed, pissed that he’d refused to leave. “You’re the one who can’t hold down a job for more than a month!”

“At least I’m not riding Daddy’s coattails!”

“I work hard, you moron! No one gets a free ride from Dad!”

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t sucking up to him!” Victor said, his tone becoming snider. “Working at the company to make Daddy proud.”

“I didn’t start working there to suck up to him!” she said, her jaw clenching. “Not like you can talk anyway. You’re happy enough to spend his money!”

Victor flushed, the hit landing. “At least I’m trying to figure out what I want, instead of just giving in to what Mom and Dad want.”

As if a life of idle aimlessness was so admirable. Her brother’s idiocy had her shaking with the urge to throttle him, but the sudden clutch of Brett’s hand on her waist distracted Jenna from retorting. She looked down, seeing the tension in his shoulders.

Annoyed with herself for getting dragged into further argument with her brother, she said, “I already told you to leave. Do I need to hold up a sign?”

His mouth a mutinous line, Victor looked ready to continue arguing, but then she heard Brett take a steadying breath beside her. “Please leave, sir.”

 They were simple words, and politely phrased, but also unmistakably an order. Addressed to a free man, they were scandalous.

Victor’s fury landed on a new target. “How dare you talk to me that way, you-”

Before he could finish, Jenna jumped in. “You’ve said enough. Get out.”

“You can’t let him get away with that.” Her brother looked horrified.

She couldn’t help herself. “First you criticize him for saying nothing to back me up, and now you’re appalled that he did.”

Exasperation overran his expression. “He’s a slave,” Victor said, as if that explained everything. She supposed for him it did. “And you’re encouraging him to forget his place.”

To that she said only, “Victor, don’t make me tell you to leave again.”

Her little brother glowered at her, intent on having the last word, as usual. “Buying him was a mistake, you’ll see.” With one last scathing glance at both of them, Victor stalked out of the room. A moment later, the front door slammed.

It was only then that Brett slumped, his body shaking. He stammered out apologies in a flood. “I was so rude, I’m sorry, Mistress… he was upsetting you, but to… I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m sorry…”

“No, no,” she said, shushing him to stem the flow. “You did well.”

He reddened adorably. “Really?”

“Whatever came over you, I didn’t mind at all.” She held him close, reassuring him with her touch. “But please don’t do it in front of my parents. My brother is ultimately harmless, but they are not.”

Tensing, he burrowed his head against her stomach. “Yes, Mistress.”

“I mean it,” she said, her voice firming. “No matter how much I’d love to see it, we can’t antagonize my parents.”

“I understand, Mistress.” There was a growling edge to his next murmured words though. “But I hate it when you’re upset.”

She sighed, feeling overwhelmed as she caught what he was really telling her. If someone hurt her, he wasn’t sure he could control himself. It echoed the feelings in her own core—like the incident at the mall that day, control was hard for her to hang onto when Brett was threatened. She’d have to do her best to keep this situation from turning any uglier than it already was.

“I’ll talk to my parents on my own.”

“No,” he denied, his fingers digging into her hips as he glared up at her. Startled, she looked down at him, and watched dismay cross his face when he realized how he’d spoken to her. Modulating his voice, he said, “Please, Mistress, I don’t want you to go alone.”

He’d softened his tone, but it was still more a demand than a plea. This behavior was unlike him—not that she was complaining, when it stemmed from concern for her—and she wondered at it. It was only as she studied him that she realized what was going on.

Brett was still furious. The remorse for speaking out to her brother and the apologies hadn’t dimmed it. He was angry because of how Victor had spoken to her and the things he’d said to her, but on a deeper level that she wasn’t even sure Brett realized himself, he was piqued by what Victor had said about him. Her brother had claimed he wasn’t a real man, that he couldn’t take care of her, and those darts had hit Brett squarely. Now he was trying his best to prove her brother wrong, as much as he was able.

She already knew Victor was absolutely wrong, but she sensed Brett needed to prove it to himself. I wish I could be what you deserve, he’d said, wrenching at her heart. If it would ease his own doubts about himself, she had to help him.

“All right,” she said, ignoring her own misgivings about subjecting him to her parents’ scrutiny. “We’ll face the music together. But you have to be on your best behavior.”

“I will, Mistress.”

At his grateful look, she tugged him up to his feet. He was still as keyed up as she was, the storm Victor had created lingering between them. Rather than ponder how soon she’d be hearing from her mother, there were enjoyable ways to alleviate their stress. And if she could help Brett at the same time, all the better.

“Brett,” she said, looking at him with intent, intent that he obviously caught, from the darkening of his eyes. “I want you.”

The turmoil within him shifted to a different kind of tension altogether. He said the familiar words, but his tone was rougher, hungry. “As you wish, Mistress.”

“No,” she countered, “as you wish.” His confusion made her add, “For your pleasure, Brett.”

The sudden gleam in his eyes told her he wouldn’t protest, not in his agitated state. Still he hesitated though, uncertain.

Well, there were ways to remove all hesitation. Not expecting any visitors tonight, she was dressed casually. The sweatpants she wore slipped to her feet as she loosened them.

He swallowed, his gaze raking her bare legs before floating back up to her face. “Are you sure, Mistress?”

Her brother had hurt the little pride Brett had left—his pride in serving her. She wanted to show him that he meant more to her than just the services he provided for her.

“Oh, yes.” She scraped her nails down his chest through his shirt; not viciously enough to hurt, but hard enough for him to feel it. “Do as you want. Don’t hold back.”

Message received, he no longer behaved. All his frustration and lust was given an outlet, and suddenly she found herself pinned against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist. Her shirt roughly pushed up, she groaned as his teeth fastened on her nipple, his fingers pulling on the other. When he kissed her, his tongue thrusting into her, she responded in kind, aggressively kissing him back. He was hers, all of him, even this rough, demanding side.

Her pulse quickened at the edge of savagery in the air. They’d had sex many times before, and in different ways—rough, tender, teasing, desperate—but never quite like this. It was exciting to learn there was still more to discover.

Fisting one hand in his hair, she pulled his head back, exposing his throat to her. Her lips fastened high on his neck, sucking and biting the sensitive spot beneath his jaw. He moaned, his fingers digging into her waist as she marked him.

When she paused for breath, his lips found hers again, groaning against her mouth. She loosened her legs from his waist, her feet unsteady when they touched the ground. Bracing her firmly against the wall, he slid downwards, nipping and kissing his way down her body, impatiently pushing her shirt aside.

She hissed when he reached the junction of her thighs, the fever in her blood already at a high pitch. She pushed her panties down, tilting her hips towards him as her fingers tangled in his hair.

“Brett,” she growled.

His tongue worked its magic, doing what experience had taught him she liked best. The world narrowed down to the pleasure he brought her and the cries he wrung from her. She came, nails pressing into his shoulders. Any thought that they might have shifted their focus solely onto her pleasure instead of his vanished when she looked down at him. Kneeling before her, a satisfied smile accompanied the hunger in his eyes.

Hooking two fingers into the ring of his collar, she tugged him onto his feet. Smiling, she turned them so that he was against the wall now. She leaned her body against his, legs still unsteady, and her hip rubbed the hardness straining against his pants. Into his ear she murmured, “What would you like to do next?”

He shuddered, but his voice came out clear enough. “This.”

Brett pulled her shirt over her head, baring her to his hungry gaze. She let him drink her in for several moments, naked except for the panties that had caught around her knees. Stepping out of them, she rubbed his arousal with the heel of her hand. He groaned, his eyes fluttering closed before fumbling to unfasten his jeans.

When she pushed his hands away impatiently, he actually growled, telling her how far gone he was. Freeing him, she stroked his length, but he didn’t give her much time to savor the throbbing, sensitive skin.

Turning them, he pulled her legs around his waist and pinned her flush against the wall again. She gasped as he plunged into her, taking no care. Wet and eager for him already, it didn’t matter. For a moment he paused, concern filling his eyes as he came back to himself. “I’m fine, don’t goddamn stop,” she said, and he didn’t.

Overwhelmed by the feel of him moving inside her, she looked into his caramel eyes, fascinated by the dark tangle of emotions in them. The pounding of the wall against her back was a faraway thing in comparison.

She kissed him again, as if she could swallow down his earlier frustration and anguish in truth. Brett was hers; she would always take care of him.

The pressure within her built and built, until suddenly it became too much, sending her over. She moaned his name as she clenched around him, and then he was falling too, falling hard, even as he anchored her against the wall.

As her head cleared, she laughed breathlessly. She’d be feeling this tomorrow, but it had been worth it.

When he came back to himself he blanched guiltily, his hands gentling on her. “Are you all right, Mistress?”

“Yes, Brett.” She grinned. “Sore, but great.”

Head bowing, he seemed to hear only the negative part. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“No, no,” she interrupted. “I am not complaining.”

“Really?” he asked, his cheeks turning pink. After the way he’d just taken her, this bashfulness was doubly cute.

Passion had burned away the negative emotions from before, she was glad to see. She placed her palm against his cheek, and he leaned into the touch. “Really.”

He turned his head, kissing her palm with reverence. “May I carry you to bed, Mistress?”

She smiled. “Oh yes, you may.”

 
Part 13