Switched (Sin City Fets Book 1) Page 6

  The weight of her warm soft body eases my breathing and heart rate. I doze off with her in my arms. But I wake up a little while later and shift her to lay beside me and climb out of bed, hoping not to wake her.

  I’m afraid to even admit it to myself, but I was falling just as much as Candace in that moment when I was deep inside her. And those self-doubts surface again. What if she’s not ready for this? Ready to let go and give me all control? Ready to accept my collar and be my submissive?

  I get dressed, pulling my loose tie over my head, not bothering to tighten it. I look over at Candace as she stretches and yawns, the blankets come off her, revealing those beautiful tits of hers. Her hair is a mess and she glows with that look of being thoroughly fucked.

  I pull on my suit jacket and lean down to kiss her forehead. “Rest baby girl. You have two more days to decide if you want to wear my collar.” I leave her then, walking to her bedroom door.

  “Wait!” She leaves her bed, rushing to me and drops to the floor on her knees. She bows her head and lays her open palms on her lap. “I present to you, Sir. I give my body, my mind and my heart to you. I want to wear your collar and be your submissive.”

  Those words Candace speaks hits me right in the gut. I lean down and smooth my hand down her dark hair. “Take my hand, Candace.”

  She lifts herself up off her knees and stands there peering up at me. Her nakedness makes my dick jerk, and I’m ready to fuck her again. Without heels, she’s so much shorter than me, as she leans her head back to look up into my eyes.

  I pull her to me and kiss her with a tenderness I never thought I had. “My beautiful baby girl. I’m so honored that you’ve given me this privilege. I promise to love and cherish you for as long as you will allow me.”

  Chapter 17

  Candace

  A week and a half has passed since the night I knelt before Drake, and it had to be one of the most precious moments of my life. For so many years I had to be the one calling the shots and now I’m given the opportunity to have a break, to just be Candance. I don’t have to be Miss. I’m just me.

  It was a little odd the first few nights at the club. Some of the regulars were looking at me a bit odd, surprised that I had decided to switch. I can’t blame them for being shocked, it’s not exactly like I had expected it to happen either. But Drake is relentless, and at the end of the day he knew exactly what it was that I needed. Freedom, the freedom from the weight of being a Mistress. I love parts of it, in having my submissives come to me, rely on me and give me their trust. Although, I needed certain things that I would never be able to get from them. The only person I’d be able to get those from would be another dominant – Drake.

  For years I had let my own personal needs go instead of recognizing and making sure I was doing what was best for me. I feel that I failed them or let them down in a sense. If only I had realized years ago what I truly wanted, then some of them could have gone on to have better relationships then what I could offer to them.

  Today, I spent all my time driving around Vegas and having sit downs with every single one of my clients. They’d known a little bit, and it was vague at that. Previously I’d told them that I was taking time off but didn’t go into the specifics. Today was the day where I explained to them that I needed a change, and that I’d help each and every one of them find a better fit for them.

  My last visit today was going to be the hardest and I knew that. A deep, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach had haunted me all day until I arrived at Chase’s. I texted him and told him that it was best we meet upstairs, where I could speak to him privately. To my surprise he was already waiting for me at the front door, dressed clad in an Armani suit. He’d only dressed this way when he had business to attend to.

  “Candace,” he greets, his tone of voice sounding a bit salty. Almost like he’s angry at me. I wouldn’t blame him if he is, I most certainly deserve it.

  “Chase, you look well.” I reply, offering a half smile.

  “What is it you’ve come here for? I haven’t seen you in weeks, not even a peep and all of a sudden you’d like to have a sit-down discussion with me.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest and stares me down. “I have five minutes, and I will not be sitting down.”

  I snicker, shaking my head at what is nothing more than a childish play. “I’ve come here to explain to you why I am no longer going to be offering my services to anyone. Indefinitely, I will not be in the same line of work. After some thought and much deliberation, I’ve decided that it would be in the best interests for me to switch to a less stressful role, and to find a better fit for you as your Miss.”

  Chase’s face contorts as he realizes what it is that I’m saying. “You’re going to be a submissive?” He questions, and I nod. “You… of all people?”

  I nod again. “Yes. I am.”

  “Where did this decision come from?” Chase asks, and I know very well that he doesn’t understand why I’ve made this decision.

  “There have been a few things going on in my personal life, and I’ve had to re-evaluate what is the best for me, given some changes that have occurred. This decision isn’t one that I made lightly, Chase. I’d been thinking over it for the last few weeks, for as long as I haven’t been speaking to all of you. I needed time and space to reflect what I needed, and what would be the best for all of you. I could never bear to continue being a Miss to anyone if my heart was no longer in it, and while I love you all dearly, I know that I’m not in the best mindset to give you all what you need and deserve.”

  Chase nods, relaxing his arms a bit as he looks at me. “I’m glad that you’re doing something for yourself for once instead of putting our needs above your own. I am curious though, if you know of anyone who would… appreciate my tastes.”

  I smile, seeing the sweet Chase come out of his shell. “Yes, I do in fact. She’s beautiful, blonde, a lawyer. Feisty as hell and quick on her feet, but also extremely compassionate.” I saw Miss. Sharpe at the club two nights ago. It was awkward as heck when we locked eyes. I’ve only ever seen her in the professional light, and never in a personal one. Had no idea she was part of the lifestyle and had never once seen her in the club. It turned out that the other day was her first time in and that she usually goes to her club in her hometown of L.A. every couple weeks, when she flies out for business. We both got to talking and I realized that she’d be a great fit for Chase, if he’s looking for something more serious. “Her name is Nora Sharpe. She’s a criminal defense lawyer, and did I mention she’s gorgeous?”

  Chase chuckles. “You might have mentioned it.” I dig into my purse and pull out one of her business cards, handing it out to him.

  “Give her a call, go out for dinner. You never know what will happen. I could be wrong, but I really think you two could get along well, but Chase…,” I pause, wondering how I should word this for him. “She’s not looking for an arrangement like you and I had. She wants something real, someone to come home to every night and hold, maybe even a father for her kids. I’m not sure, but she wants something that she can hold onto. Are you ready for that?”

  “Yes, I have been for a long time, Candace. I only stuck to our arrangement because I knew it was the only way I could keep you, and I didn’t want to risk losing you forever. It seems like life had different plans for us, though.”

  I nod in agreement, “Yes, it sure seems that way.”

  Chapter 18

  Candace

  “You need to leave, Jackson. I think you’ve had enough. Go get in the cab that Thomas called for you and sleep it off,” Dennis urges him. He’s one of the bartenders who works at Club Crimson, a sweet kid who is a kinky fuck himself. Every time I stare at him, I swear he’d be the perfect match with my old girl, Lusy. Those two… jesus, I’d kill just to watch them go at it.

  “I haven’t had enough!” Jackson belligerently argues with Dennis, shoving him out of his grip. It’s obvious that he’s plastered, and Dennis did the right thing by tak
ing his keys and calling a cab for him. Jackson shoves at him again and at this point I feel it’s my cue to stop staring from the sidelines and interject.

  Normally, I’d sit back and let Drake handle it, but he isn’t here. So, that means I don’t have any problem being the alpha bitch we all know I am and handle the situation. Jackson is a nice guy, I don’t know why he’s decided to go and get this drunk tonight. I wonder if he lost really bad again at one of the casinos. I take a deep breath and shake my head, hoping that isn’t the case. I don’t know how the man has a shoebox to his name with his struck of no luck. He’s been on a losing streak for months…

  “Hey Jack,” I say to him, all smiles. “What’s been going on tonight, bud?”

  He twists his nose up at me and looks around. “Where’s the better? He always said he would win. I want to know if he lost too!” I can barely make out the last bit as Jackson throws his head in every direction looking for something. I have no clue what it is that he’s searching for.

  “What are you looking for?” I ask, needing to figure this out for him.

  “Your – what is he now? Is he… your… Dom?” Jackson asks, pausing in the middle of what he’s saying. I furrow my brows, surprised that Drake has even said anything yet. I may have accepted his collar the other night, but we haven’t had my collaring ceremony. I thought we’d wait at least until that before we spoke about our relationship publicly. I mean, I don’t mind that he told his friends, but he could have given me a heads up.

  “Uh, yes. He is.” I say to him, seeing the angered look in his eyes. I really don’t understand what’s going on right now.

  “He won the fucking bet! Dammit! All I do is lose. I lose at the casino. I lose to Drake on the bet for you!”

  Bet for me? What the hell does that mean?

  My expression fades from concern to bewilderment, putting together small pieces of the puzzle but they just aren’t quite fitting, and the only person who can help me figure it out is plastered. “Jackson, what do you mean Drake lost the bet to you for me?”

  “We had a bet with Drake on whether or not…” Jackson hiccups and chuckles for a moment, “whether or not he could make you switch.”

  I take a step back away from Jackson, needing some damn space. I was a bet? I was something he had bet on against Jackson… what in the ever-loving fuck. I redirect my attention from Jackson to Thomas, who’s seated a few feet away at the bar and can undoubtedly hear everything that was just said.

  “Would you care to elaborate on what drunky just told me?” I hiss out.

  “You should speak to Drake about it, Candace. I don’t have anything to say.”

  He doesn’t have anything to say, hmm? I take my drink and toss it at the bar where he sits, watching as the glass shatters to the floor next to him. “Want to think about that answer again?” I hiss out, knowing all too well that there is some truth to what Jackson’s said. If there wasn’t any truth behind it then Thomas would’ve told me to ignore Jackson, that it was the alcohol talking, instead he’s done neither.

  Out of nowhere my phone begins to ring. I ignore it the first time, being too caught up on what is going on around me, but when it rings again and again, I know that this fucker isn’t going to stop calling until I answer. “What?” I snap into the phone, anger and hurt flooding through my voice.

  “Candace, this is the warden.” I listen as the woman on the phone tells me she’s the warden for the penitentiary that my father is held in. The formalities come first and soon thereafter the reason she’s calling becomes the topic for discussion. She informs me that my father was attacked yet again and unfortunately, they were not able to save his life due to the severity of his injuries. I shut my eyes as she tells me this, wanting it to not be true, wishing that I had gone to see him today, or done more to get him out of that hell hole. He wasn’t perfect, but he was still my father.

  The rollercoaster of emotions between finding out that Drake had made a bet on getting me to switch for him, and then being told that my father was just murdered hits me like a ton of bricks. I don’t know what to do, whether to fall to the floor and cry, or to stop breathing in general. I’m being hit from both sides and don’t know how to handle it. Of course, there isn’t a good way to handle this. Is there?

  The door to the club open and in walks Drake, he smiles at me and I can’t bear to do the same. I waltz over to him, bring my hand back and try to slap him but he’s too quick for me, grabbing my forearm and holding me in place. “I’d think twice before you ever lay a hand on me, baby girl. Now what’s the matter?”

  “You fucking betrayed my trust, making a bet about having me switch for you. What the fuck is going on in that head of yours? Did you even ever care… or was it all because of this fucking bet, so Jackson wouldn’t win. Is what we have even real?” I scream it at him, sobs spilling from my lips as tears crash down over my cheeks. “You know…” I look up at him, wanting to stare him in the eyes as I say this: “Maybe Monica wasn’t the problem, maybe it was always you.” I rip my hand out of his grip and charge towards the front door, needing to get back into the safety and security of my apartment. I need to bury myself under the covers and cry my damn heart out, for the loss of two men that I thought I could trust.

  Well, sort of.

  Chapter 19

  Drake

  What the fuck just happened? I’m furious and seething now as I scan the club, clenching my jaw while my head pounds. Everyone is staring at me, their jaws dropping and then I see Jackson. But he’s not looking at me. Instead he has his back turned, leaning on the bar looking at that young bartender Dennis.

  I move quick and pull Jackson’s shoulder to face me. His eyes go wide and I smell his breath, reeking of liquor. I fist his wrinkled shirt, my nose only an inch from his. “What the fuck did you say to Candace?”

  He grabs my clenched fists and hiccups, “I, ah. I told her you won the bet!” He shoves me away.

  Jackson just fucked up everything between me and Candace now. Her trust in me has now been broken and there’s no chance in hell she will ever believe me if I told her the truth. Of how I feel for her, how she’s all I have ever wanted. How much I love her.

  I lose it and naturally react to my anger and dread as I smash my fist into Jackson’s jaw. His head flies back and he stumbles backwards, losing his footing. His arm sweeps across the bar, and glasses come crashing onto the floor along with him.

  My eyes pivot to Thomas standing only a few yards away. I see the whites of his eyes, as he raises his hands up. “I didn’t say anything, Drake. Jackson is shit faced and blubbered out everything to Candace.”

  I stalk to Thomas, shoving him off his barstool. He stumbles as his bar stool tips over, “Who fucking asked you? When I ask, you answer. Otherwise, keep your fucking mouth shut!” I look down at Jackson passed out on the floor. “He’s done in this city. I’m unleashing hell on him. The feds and local law enforcement will discover all his dirty dealings.”

  I turn away from Thomas and storm out of the club. I don’t see Candace’s car and have no doubt she just peeled out of the lot like a bat out of hell. And why wouldn’t she? I worry now for her own safety and hope she doesn’t drive recklessly.

  I speed away from the lot in the Porsche, gunning and shifting at every traffic light down the boulevard back to my private office. I sit at my desk and spin the lock to the safe under it. The four-digit combo opens the door and I fetch the valuable flash drive that stores photographs and other incriminating material of Jackson dealing coke and selling to sleezy pimps in Vegas.

  I slide the drive into the slot of one of many of my laptops and check on the files. I open a bottle of scotch, forgetting a glass and just tip up to my mouth swallowing a few good swigs. I shake my head, slamming the bottle back on the desk and run my hands through my hair. My blood is pumping hard and fast through my veins and I feel like smashing my fists into someone or something. I should never had made that stupid fucking bet with Jackson and Thomas. It was
all because of my own ego, that went to my head and my dick.

  By early morning the local authorities are given the exact locations of where he stashes his product, the names of who he deals with. And I wake up still sitting at my desk. My mouth is dry as the fucking Nevada desert and my head is pounding, like a jackhammer about to crack my skull open.

  The memories of the previous night come flooding back - the bravery and the look of fiery rage and pain in Candace’s eyes as she tried to slap me across the face in front of everyone in the club. And how my grip on her forearm was tight as a vice, and maybe even left her bruised. But the worst was knowing I had bruised her heart. No not bruised. I crushed her heart. My dark-haired baby girl. When she feels like she is falling again, will she trust me to catch her?

  My phone buzzes on the edge of the desk and lights up with a text from Thomas that Candace’s father was attacked and killed last night in prison.

  Fuck me. I wonder why Candace didn’t say anything to me last night! I suddenly realize the reason she stormed toward me the moment I entered the club and tried to slap me. It all makes sense. She would have never acted like that, even if she were as upset as she was unless something awful was just said to her. She must have just received that phone call about her father.

  Chapter 20

  Candace

  It’s been a week, a week of silence, continuing to be alone except for the few moments that Carly has been around. Half the time she’s been high, rambling on about some nonsense. Most of the time I don’t even pay attention, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the company. It’s odd having my sister around, especially since I hadn’t seen her for so long. But here she is raiding my cabinets for food and acting like a total slob. I doubt she’s even eaten in the last couple days. Considering her line of work, I wouldn’t be shocked.

  The only reason she bothered to show up is because we were burying our father. If she didn’t show up, she knew I’d never forgive her. There’s no excuse for that type of disrespect. Our father may not have been perfect, but she would show up to his funeral, and she did.