Mikhail

After a restless night of going over and over what Reuben had said, along with Carver and even Hoss, I wasn't in the mood for a whole lot of bullshit today. However, I had work to do, so I locked myself in my office and got to it. The good thing was a lot of the time I worked variable hours. I liked to be available on the floor as much as I could at night, but there were still things I had to do, which required me to be awake and working at least part of the time during the day.

Today, a big shipment of alcohol was coming in. Sure, the managers and Reuben could handle it, but I wanted to see what they sent. The last couple of times before I left, they had shorted us. While I was away, they did it once again with Reuben. He'd called them and issued the final threat if it happened again, without them calling to tell us why, then we were changing vendors. They'd assured him it wouldn't happen again.

I suspected they had some people with sticky fingers who thought no one would bother reporting one or two missing bottles. I doubted they were doing it for personal use. Most were expensive bottles, which would fetch a good price if they sold them. Well, they were wrong. I cared. I was working in the back when Reuben came in. He had a concerned expression on his face. I straightened up from what I was doing, which was counting bottles against the order. "What's wrong?"

"You're needed out here. Carver is here and he's upset. He wants to show you something."

An uneasy feeling crept into my stomach. I put down my tablet and went out to see what was wrong. It was early, so we hadn't opened for the day yet. There were only a few staff members working. I got into the main bar area and saw him standing at the bar with a thunderous look on his face. When he saw me, he came marching over. He stopped a couple of feet in front of me. He didn't say hello or anything. All he did was hold out his hand with his phone in it.

"Carver, I'm surprised to see you here at this time of day. What's this?" I asked, not taking his phone.

"You need to look at those pictures," he muttered darkly.

Taking his phone, I lit up the screen and glanced at the picture he had pulled up. I admit I was curious what kind of pictures he wanted me to see. I hissed as I saw the dark bruises on ivory skin. I knew without him saying a word it was Tajah's skin. I flipped to the next one and saw the same thing, except they were on the opposite shoulder. I raised my eyes to him.

"He fucking marked her," I growled. Reuben stood behind me, looking over my shoulder and saw the same thing I did. I could feel his anger coming at me in waves.

It was one thing to mark a woman's skin as part of consensual play, but this way wasn't to be tolerated. They had to hurt and not in a good way. He'd marked her and it offended me to see his prints on her. Or at least marks I hadn't placed there while ensuring her pleasure. The thought of him infuriated me and thoughts of me with her aroused me. I was fucked in the head but I didn't care. In the wee hours of this morning, I'd come to a few conclusions. I hadn't said anything to Reuben or made a move, but this changed things.

"Why did you show me those?" I wanted to be sure we were on the same page.

"I did it because she made me promise not to beat his ass. She's worried it'll get me disbarred or thrown in jail and killed. I don't give a damn, but she does."

"And you think I'll go handle him?"

"If not you, then someone you trust. I've heard the rumors about you. I don't know if they're true or not, but if they are, I want him to know he'd better never come near her again. I have no doubt he's probably already gone to one or more of the other clubs. If she runs into him at any of them, I want him to walk away."

"Other clubs? You've got to be kidding! Those aren't the places for her. Why didn't you stop her?" I almost shouted.

"I tried! She said she couldn't promise not to go, but if she did, she wouldn't go alone. I told her I'd go somehow. She's determined to do this series right and that means research. I can't stop her, so I'll make her as safe as I can. Scaring the hell out of this bastard helps with that."

"You let me worry about Dominus. I'll take care of him. I need these," I muttered as I fiddled with his phone, then sent them to mine. Once I had them, I handed him his back. "There's no goddamn way she's ever going to one of those places. You tell her… never mind. I'll tell her. She's reinstated here, but with a few caveats she has to agree to."

"Mind if I ask what those are? Not that I'm not glad you reconsidered banning her, but I'd like to know."

"The rules are between her and me. If she chooses to share them, that's on her. Don't worry, they're nothing harmful. And I'll take care of this situation, but it's gonna take time. Bear with me. It's my fault for giving the bastard a second chance that she has these. I'll make it right. You have my word." I held out my hand. He took it and gave it a hard squeeze.

"I'm trusting you to do this. If you don't, I'll do it myself, even if I do break my promise. She'll hate it. One thing she detests is promises not being kept. She's had too many broken to her in her past."

His remark made me curious but I didn't ask. I wanted to find out more about her, but from the source. I knew from the report I read from Outlaw that she was thirty-three and she was divorced. She had no kids and her marriage ended eight years ago. I was dying to know why. What was her ex-husband like and why had they parted ways?

"I won't let this go. I knew he might've bruised her, but seeing those, nope, he's not walking without repercussions. Being banned isn't enough. Consider it taken care of."

"Thank you. I hate passing this along."

"No worries. Is there anything else I can do?"

He shook his head no. "Not that I can think of. When do you think you'll talk to her about coming back here? Should I tell her you'll be calling her?"

"I prefer to talk to her myself and without her knowing I'm gonna do it. It's for a reason. I won't delay, I promise. I don't want her going to any of those other clubs, either."

We ended our talk not long afterward. Reuben had unashamedly stood there the whole time listening. I raised my brow at him after Carver left. "Well, wanna weigh in, Mr. Nibshit?"

He chuckled. "Nibshit, am I? How else can I keep you straight? So, did I hear you right? You're gonna tell her she can come back? I'd like to know what the caveats are," he said with a grin.

"All you need to know is they involve her and mentoring."

"Oh, you're letting me be her mentor! Thanks, man," he said with a smirk.

I couldn't hold back my growl. He heard it and smiled bigger as he practically ran out of the room. I heard his laughter come up the hallway a few seconds later. I swear, if he wasn't my best friend, I'd probably kill him. But he wasn't my concern right now. I'd planned to call her later and ask her to drop by so we could talk. After seeing those bruises, I couldn't wait and I wanted us to talk somewhere she would be more comfortable. Her home would do. I hoped she was there. Dropping in unannounced wasn't good manners, but I didn't want to chance her putting me off. I was afraid she'd be so upset about what happened and she wouldn't return. I couldn't let that happen. Ready or not, Tajah Michaelson, here I come.

Two hours later, I was standing at her apartment door. I'd gotten her address from the application she'd filled out for Lustz. After checking the wine had all been delivered, which it was, I'd gone to shower and change. I was caught on my way out the door by one of the floor managers, Freddy. He wanted to talk about ordering new chairs for the bar. Some were showing wear and tear. He could've asked Reuben, but since he saw me first, he asked me. After I told him to write it up and submit the whole proposal, I left.

The drive to her apartment wasn't too far. Without traffic, it only took me twenty minutes. During the busy time of day, it would take more than a half hour. She lived on the first floor of a three-story complex. I didn't like it as soon as I saw it. A first-floor apartment meant anyone could enter easily through her windows. At least on the second or third floor, they'd have to put a bit of effort into it.

I had no idea if she was home, but I knocked anyway. I was about to knock again when I heard the sound of locks being undone. She had an apprehensive look on her face when the door swung open. I felt tongue-tied for a couple of seconds, as I saw her in a pair of shorts and a tank top. They hugged her body, and it was even better than I imagined. What loosened my tongue was seeing the fingerprints on her shoulders. My anger came back full force.

"Mr. Ivanova, what in the world are you doing here?" she asked in surprise.

"Please, call me Mikhail. I came to talk to you. I hope that's alright. I took a chance you'd be home since you work from here, I presume. Or do writers have office spaces? I'm not sure now that I think about it," I told her with a smile, hoping she'd relax and I could chill my anger. The urge to reach out and run a finger over her bruises and take care of her was almost overwhelming.

She smiled. "No, most of us don't have separate offices, and working from home is a major perk of my job. Won't you come in? I don't think my neighbors should hear our conversation." She stepped back and held the door open for me.

Walking in, I took in her space. It wasn't huge, but it was done up to be comfortable and pretty, without being overly feminine. It was very tidy, too. The only thing I saw out was a laptop and a glass on the coffee table. She gestured to the couch.

"Won't you have a seat? Can I get you something to drink?"

"Thank you, but I'm fine," I said, going through the niceties as I took a seat. I hoped she'd sit next to me. When I passed her, the smell of her hair had wafted up and it made me want to bury my nose in it and sniff her. Less than five minutes in her presence, and she was teasing my beast. Not now, I ordered myself. She did join me, but she sat as far away as she could. She clasped her hands in her lap.

I started the conversation. I prayed it went well. "Tajah, is it alright to call you that or do you prefer Ms. Michaelson?"

"Tajah is fine. Forgive my bluntness, but I can't imagine why you're here, Mikhail. I believe we said all we needed to the other night at the club. Unless there's something I need to do to withdraw. If so, a phone call would have sufficed."

"No, there's no paperwork, but I believe I owe you an apology. I didn't let you explain what your idea was for the research you want to do at Lustz. Also, I wanted to let you know, Dominus is no longer there. He's been banned."

"Ah, okay, I'm glad to know, but why would you come all this way to tell me that?" She appeared puzzled.

"Because you won't have to worry about running into him or having him harass you again when you're there."

"When I'm there?" she asked slowly.

"Yes, when you come back. Although, there are a few stipulations to that. I'm here to tell you the ban on you can be lifted. It's that and the stipulations I came here to talk to you about, but first I have something else to ask you."

"Okay, go for it."

"How badly do those hurt?" I pointed to her bruises. I had to resist touching her skin. I wanted to wipe them away with a touch, after kissing them better first. God, she was driving me crazy.

She got a startled look on her face as she glanced down at herself. I realized she'd forgotten they were exposed. She automatically put her hands up to cover them. I moved closer and grabbed her hands to prevent it, breaking one of my main rules of no contact without consent.

"Don't. I'm so sorry I didn't get there before he had a chance to do this to you. I brought you something, which will help with pain and make the bruises go away faster."

"How?"

I reluctantly let go of her hands and reached into my pocket. I wasn't dressed in a suit today. I wore jeans, a collared-shirt, and a blazer. I took out the tube and handed it to her. "This is arnica cream. It comes in gel form, too. It's often used for bruises and soreness. It increases blood flow and stimulates the body to heal itself. You'll be interested in this for your research for your books. It's often used in our lifestyle for those liking hard impact play and other things, which can leave bruises or other marks."

"Wow, thank you. I didn't know that. I'll put some on later. That's actually fascinating."

She went to take it, but I held onto it. Before she could ask why, I twisted off the cap and squeezed a small amount on my fingers. "Here, you'd better put some on now. Those are damn dark. Let me do it." My voice dropped to a low murmur.

I had to touch her, and I had to care for her. It was an impulse I couldn't ignore. The Dom in me needed to give her aftercare, even though I hadn't caused these and she wasn't my sub. I waited a second or two to see if she'd say no. When she didn't, I reached the rest of the way and touched her skin. I felt her shudder. I rubbed gently. Jesus Christ, I was right. Her skin was like silk and so warm. I made sure to thoroughly rub it into her first shoulder as slowly as I could. As I did, I talked to her.

"Do you want to hear what the stipulations are?"

"I do, but first why did you change your mind? You seemed adamant you didn't want me there."

"I was and then I listened to what Reuben and Carver told me, and I thought about what I witnessed that night. I had to reconsider my stance. You hadn't caused any trouble. Dominus was out of line. It should've never gotten to that point, so I decided to give you a chance to prove to me all writers aren't the same."

"All writers? What does that mean?"

I switched over to the other shoulder. "I've had past experience with writers, reporters, and such who claimed to want to write about the club and our lifestyle. Every one of them ended up writing stories, which essentially vilified us and our choices. We've been called deviants and a whole lot worse. Early on, it almost destroyed my club. Different doesn't mean wrong. We may not like the same things as what the mainstream does, but we have as much right to do what makes us happy within reason. I don't tell those couples how to live or what they should or shouldn't do in the bedroom, so why should they be allowed to do it to me?"

"Mikhail, I don't disagree with you. It's my desire to portray things accurately, which led me to want to join your club. Everyone I asked, who would know the answer about which was the best place to explore kink, said the House of Lustz. I admit, there's a sense of the taboo and mystery about your world, but it also intrigues people or at least it does me. That's what led me to want to write about it. I don't think anyone is deviant. Well, I take that back. Rapists and child molesters I'll never understand or condone their behaviors. The people who go to Lustz won't be kink-shamed by me. If I don't understand their attraction to certain things, so be it. I'll either not portray those things in my books, or I'll make sure to have someone more knowledgeable in it proofread what I write."

"I totally agree with you about those two kinds of people. I hope you mean the rest because if you write or say anything I consider libel or slander, I won't hesitate to make you regret it," I warned her.

She leaned back so my hand fell from her shoulder. A feeling of bereft hit me. "You don't need to threaten me."

"It's a promise, not a threat. And to make sure you get the full picture, and the proofreading you mentioned, I have stipulations."

"Fine, hit me with them."

"One, you will never observe anyone in an enclosed room, at least not alone. You must be where you can be watched over. It's for your protection. Two, you may ask anyone questions as long as they agree to participate. Three, you will only get your mentoring on the various forms of kink and the intricacies of the life from one person, your mentor. Four, do not come to the club if your mentor isn't there. Five, when you write, your mentor will read what you wrote to ensure it is depicted appropriately."

"And who assigns my mentor and what is this person's qualifications? How did you decide who will do it? What if he or she can't be there when I can?"

"I chose your mentor and there won't be problems aligning schedules. His qualifications are that he's been in the life for two decades. He's considered a master in being a Dom. He often gives demonstrations and answers questions about most aspects of our lifestyle. If he doesn't know it, he'll find you the answer. Finally, he'll ensure not only do you get a thorough education, but he'll keep you safe from any kind of unwanted attention. No one will act the way Dominus did."

"Well, he sounds like he's too good to be true. Who is this expert and when can I meet him? Are you even sure he'll want to do this? It'll mean a lot of his time."

"He's eagerly waiting to start. Time is of no consequence. He can start right away. And his name is…" I paused before telling her, "Mikhail. I look forward to our partnership."

Her mouth fell open and astonishment spread across her face. I tried not to smirk. Yeah, when I was done with her, I hoped not only would she be in love with the life, but she'd be sharing my bed. I was committed to making her mine. A one eighty from where I was even a couple of days ago, but sometimes, I was learning, that was the way it went.