Eternally Yours: Bliss Series, Book Six Read online

  Eternally Yours

  Bliss Series, Book Six

  Deanndra Hall

  Celtic Muse Publishing, LLC

  Contents

  A word from the author …

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  About the Author

  Also by Deanndra Hall

  Eternally Yours

  Bliss Series Book Six

  Copyright 2014 Deanndra Hall

  Celtic Muse Publishing, LLC

  P.O. Box 3722

  Paducah, KY 42002-3722

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

  This book is a work of fiction

  Names of characters, places, and events are the construction of the author, except those locations that are well-known and of general knowledge, and all are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental, and great care was taken to design places, locations, or businesses that fit into the regional landscape without actual identification; as such, resemblance to actual places, locations, or businesses is coincidental. Any mention of a branded item, artistic work, or well-known business establishment, is used for authenticity in the work of fiction and was chosen by the author because of personal preference, its high quality, or the authenticity it lends to the work of fiction; the author has received no remuneration, either monetary or in-kind, for use of said product names, artistic work, or business establishments, and mention is not intended as advertising, nor does it constitute an endorsement. The author is solely responsible for content.

  Formatting and cover design by Drue Hoffman at Buoni Amici Press, LLC.

  Editing by Tick-Tock Editing.

  ISBN: 9781945370427

  Disclaimer: Material in this work of fiction is of a graphic sexual nature and is not intended for audiences under 18 years of age.

  A word from the author …

  Lucien was a mystery to me. He’s mentioned briefly in Brian’s book, but that was about it. With his story, however, we get an understanding of why Brian was raised by his father and stepmother. We also know Lucien’s family background.

  I love how honorable Lucien is. He’s the epitome of integrity in everything he does and says. He’s a dedicated school counselor who’s afraid a teenage girl will accuse him something he hasn’t done. He’s a well-educated biracial man, and assumptions leave even his speech patterns questioned by some. He’s still working through the misplaced guilt he feels over his mother abandoning her family, even though he had nothing to do with it. And when his usual stoic and stuffy personality gives way to being funny and silly, you can’t help but love him.

  Through it all, he knows who he is, and tapping him for the challenge he faces in this book was the right call on everybody’s part. He embodies everything the lifestyle stands for, and for that, I respect him even more. I think you will too.

  Happy reading,

  Deanndra

  Chapter One

  The roll-up door on the moving truck slams down and I stand there, watching them drive away. Now comes the part I dread.

  Boxes everywhere. I thought I got rid of a lot of stuff, but it looks like I kept more than I intended. I grab one, peek inside, and try to figure out where it goes when my phone rings. Instead of answering with the customary greeting, I just blurt out, “I could use some help over here!”

  “We’ll be over shortly!” my brother, Brian, says with a laugh. “We’re actually picking up food. Thought you might be hungry.”

  “God, yeah. Famished. That’s great. See you when you get here.”

  “In just a little bit. Bye.” He hangs up and I sit there, holding my phone.

  What in hell have I done? I’ve moved from France to San Francisco to Seattle. At this point, I’m about as far away from Paris as I can get. I wouldn’t mind moving back to San Francisco someday, but I’ve got no interest in going back to Paris. None. Ever.

  When Brian and his wife get here, I’ve got about three boxes unpacked and I’m standing in the kitchen, bewildered. I’m grateful to Brian for the job and the apartment, but honestly, there’s something about this place that just isn’t working for me. It’s like I can’t get the flow of the rooms or something. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s grossly uncomfortable. “Pizza!” he says as he plops the box down.

  We spend the next thirty minutes talking and eating. I like Brian a lot. Love him? I don’t know him well enough, even though he’s my brother. I never met him until I was nineteen and he was twenty-three or twenty-four, and we’ve never lived in the same city until now. Come to think of it, we haven’t spent a single holiday together. Ever. Our history is … strained. I suppose that’s a good way to put it. I’m hoping to change that.

  When we’re finished eating, Cirilla starts working on some things that she thinks will make the apartment more “liveable,” whatever that means. “So, how’s your dad?” Brian asks as he takes another piece of pizza.

  “He’s okay, I suppose. I haven’t talked to him in a couple of months. Sounds terrible, I guess,” I mumble as I’m eating.

  “Not really. Look how long I went without seeing or talking to Celine.”

  “Yeah, but nobody can blame you for that.” The bite of pizza I was about to take can wait. We need to talk this out, and this looks like a great time. “Look, Brian, I want this to be a chance for us to forge some kind of relationship. I’m sure there’s a bad taste in your mouth from all of that, and honestly, I couldn’t believe it when you asked me to come into the company. So if at any time you―”

  “Stop. It’s not your fault that our mother left a three-year-old boy and ran off with your father. You had nothing to do with that. Am I jealous that you had her for all those years? Yeah, I guess I am, a little. But Dad married Darlene and she was a great mom to me. I barely remember your, our, mother. I was tiny. What I remember is Darlene making my lunches, taking me to ball practice, tying my shoes and folding my laundry. I called her Mom. Our mother didn’t cross my mind for years and years. If I were mad at anybody, it would be your dad. I mean, he knew she was married and he went ahead and did what he did.”

  “I know. You do know that I have an older half brother who’s Dad’s by another relationship, right?”

  Brian’s eyes go wide. “No. Had no idea.”

  “Yeah. He’d done this before, but the surprise was that he stayed with Mom. He had a reputation for busting up marriages and then walking away. Mom was the second woman he’d done that with and gotten pregnant. He didn’t stay with Stanislav’s mother. At least he stayed with mine, um, ours.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong. Dad is a great guy. He just couldn’t seem to help himself.”

  “And you?”

  I just smile. “That’s why I felt so relieved when I found my inclination as a Dominant. It’s taught me a lot about self-control and self-discipline. And I needed that in my life. After all, I lived with two people who did whatever impulsive thing felt good to them. I still can’t imagine walking away from my young child the way she did you.”

  “Ah, don’t think about it. I try not to. At least I got to see her once before she died.”

  “But
it shouldn’t have been that way, Brian. I still … I’m sorry. I’m probably dredging up a lot of shit you don’t want to deal with.”

  He shakes his head and smiles. “It’s okay. I think you’re carrying some guilt that’s not yours to carry, but I understand why. You had no culpability in that. You were an innocent just like I was. As I was growing up, when I found out Darlene wasn’t my real mother, I wondered for years what horrible thing I did that made Mom run away. Now I know it wasn’t me. It wasn’t Dad. It was a character flaw, one that I can proudly say I don’t carry. I don’t think you do either, at least not from what I’ve seen.”

  That makes me chuckle. “If you ever even think you see that character flaw, pull me up short, please? I don’t want to be that person.”

  “If you’re afraid you might be, you never will be.” He stands and picks up his paper plate. “Let’s kick the asses of some of these boxes and see if we can get you at least partially settled.”

  “Do you have some work for me?”

  “Do I have some work for you? Do Dominants have floggers? Of course I have some work for you! The business Trish and Sheila have dredged up is more than Cirilla and I can possibly handle. So yes, I’ll have some work for you Monday morning. But for now, settling in comes first. Come on. Let’s tackle some.”

  We work for the rest of the evening and as we’re there, shoulder to shoulder, I feel a warm camaraderie growing. Having a brother? I think this is going to be a good thing.

  Having a brother who owns a BDSM club? That’s a great thing.

  * * *

  It’s only my second time here. The first time was the night before Brian and Cirilla’s wedding, and we had a bachelor party of sorts for him at the club. Along with the general membership, Clint, Steffen, and Dave came. It was a lot of fun. They invited every submissive Brian had ever scened with at the club to come and talk about what they did with him. That was hysterically embarrassing for him! As each woman finished, she handed him a pair of panties. One by one, as they talked, we tied the current speaker’s panties to the ones of the woman before her, side to side, and made a banner of sorts out of them. Talk about colorful! At the end of the evening, we all went outside the back door where he symbolically burned the panties. Can’t say I’ve ever seen that done before, but it was a lot of fun.

  But I think the most fun was the look on members’ faces when Brian introduced me. All night long, someone would come up to talk to him and he’d say, “Oh, by the way, I’d like for you to meet my brother, Lucien.” They’d turn and then, even though they were careful, their jaws would drop. I’d like to think it was because of how incredibly good-looking I am, but I know better.

  It was because I’m black.

  Okay, that’s only half true. My mother, well, she was Brian’s mother too, and she was as white as they come, but my father is a black Frenchman, and his parents were Senegalese. They lived in Saint-Louis on the West African coast, but they moved to Paris so my dad could be educated there, and they changed their name from Darboe, a Gambian name, to Pelletier, a decidedly French name. Even though we had the same mother, Brian and I look absolutely, positively nothing alike. No one would ever guess we were brothers. Since he looks nothing like Mom, I have to believe he looks like his dad, and I look like mine.

  So all night long they’d say, “Oh! You’re Brian’s brother? Nice to meet you.” Then they’d kind of walk away like we’d lied to them or something. Now that I think about it, it was pretty damn hysterical. My sense of humor grew when I started college in San Francisco, and at least now I have one. Before I got there I was a pretty stiff son of a bitch.

  Tonight I’m here not as a partygoer but as a Dominant. My dad would be appalled. I can hear him now: “Denigration of any particular person, regardless their sexual proclivity, is an indicator of a flawed character.” In other words, I’m a piece of shit because I flog women. Never mind that they ask me to, oh no. It’s still wrong.

  Did I mention that while I was at the party I met Boone’s brother who was a priest? Brandt? He didn’t seem bothered by it all. Matter of fact, as I recall, he was so falling-down drunk that he didn’t seem bothered by much of anything, so take that, dear old Dad. Brandt’s only been here a few weeks, having come to perform Boone and Melina’s wedding the weekend before I moved here. There’s a story there with Brandt. I just don’t know what―yet. I’m sure I’ll find out eventually, whether I want to or not.

  I will say, Brian was pretty surprised when I told him I’d been frequenting clubs in San Francisco, and let me tell you, there are some major clubs there. Amazing places. Not like this one. Bliss is great―beautiful, actually―but it’s also smaller and homey. Some of the clubs in San Francisco were huge. And therein lies the problem.

  To me, it seemed hard to connect. Sure, I got to scene with plenty of people, and that was a lot of fun. But there were no relationships, not real ones anyway. My trips to clubs started when I was in college, and I learned from some amazing Dominants. But it seemed impossible to connect with a submissive. The biggest problem is that, since then, I’ve tried repeatedly to forge some kind of permanent relationship with a submissive, and so far, nothing. And that’s with both female and male submissives. Yeah, I’m bi, but I really lean toward women. Even so, I won’t rule out any relationship. I’m open to anything at this point. Especially after Esme.

  “Hey, brother! Good to see you!” Brian calls out from behind the bar. Clint and Steffen are sitting there and as I step up beside them, Trish comes out of the locker room.

  “Good to be here! What are you guys up to tonight?”

  “I’m watching the bar while our Dungeon Master here scenes with his submissive,” Steffen says. “Shelia’s home with the kids.”

  “He means five kids. Our three are with her,” Trish interjects. Then I see her catch Clint’s eye. “Sorry, Sir.”

  “Yes. Have a seat,” he answers and points to the floor. I watch as she kneels beside his bar stool and as soon as she’s settled in, he rests his hand on the top of her head. She looks like she’ll melt with happiness.

  I want that.

  “And we appreciate it too,” Clint says in my direction, and I know he means Sheila watching their kids. “I thought we needed to come in. Looks like I was right.”

  “I’m impressed with your submissive, Master Clint.” I know the story of how the two of them came to be together, and I also know that Clint’s dad, Dave, was her trainer. I’d freak out if I thought a woman I was scening with had scened with my dad, but they seem okay with it. That’s dedication to the lifestyle.

  “Thank you. It’s been hard fought. My Vännen likes to test me at every turn, but I like a challenge.” He tips her face up with a finger under her chin as he bends to kiss her, and she beams.

  I. Want. That.

  “Any particular submissives I might want to play with? I don’t know any of them.”

  “Well, I would’ve said Melina, but she’s off the list now,” Steffen says quickly. “What about Lilliana?”

  Clint strokes his chin. “Mmmm, not sure. I’ve watched her scening. She’s skilled, but she’s kinda whiney. If I were playing with her, I’d bust her ass.”

  “What about Priya?” Steffen asks.

  “She might be a good choice,” Brian answers. “She’s very graceful. Beautiful too. She could be a possibility.”

  “You know Master Grayson gave her a contract to review, right?” Clint asks.

  Brian’s eyebrows shoot up. “Did not know that.”

  “Me either,” Steffen adds.

  “Yep. They’re in negotiations, but from what I hear, it’s a sure thing.” Clint strokes Trish’s hair as he speaks and I swear I can hear her purr.

  Steffen sighs. “Well, scratch that.”

  Brian’s gaze shifts and I hear him murmur, “Hmmm.”

  “What?”

  “I didn’t know he was coming in tonight. I thought it would be some night next week. Can you watch the bar for me?” he asks Stef
fen, who nods in reply. “Be right back.”

  I turn just as Clint and Steffen do and catch the same sight Brian has. It’s a Dominant, an older Dominant, coming out of the dressing room, and it appears he’d scanned the room until he spotted Brian. As we watch, they disappear down the hallway together. “Wonder what that was about?” Steffen almost whispers.

  “I don’t know. Weird,” Clint responds.

  I just say nothing. There’s no telling, really. I’ve seen odd stuff happen in clubs. We sit there and chat for a few minutes until something catches my eye, and I see Brian and the Dominant making a beeline toward us. Without a word, Brian steps behind the bar and ushers Steffen out, at which time the Dominant steps right up in front of me. “Master Lucien?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Might I have a word with you?”

  I can feel my brow wrinkle as my eyebrows rise. “Certainly.” I turn slightly toward Brian and find him staring straight at me. “Anything I should know?”

  “Please don’t hate me for this, and be open to it. Please?”

  The sensation of a sinkhole opening in my gut overtakes everything, including my common sense, as I follow the man down the hallway and into Brian’s office. As soon as the door closes behind us, he points to a chair in front of Brian’s desk. “Please, have a seat.”

  The idea that I’ve committed some horrible faux pas and he’s The Enforcer passes through my mind, but I stifle the urge to laugh and just plop down in the chair. When he’s seated behind the desk in Brian’s chair, I ask straight up, “What’s this about?”