Then there was the type like Jennifer, Suzanne, and Rachel, who each had lasted all of two months in total.
Jennifer was of the variety who tried to slip into my bed in the hopes that I’d take the personal thing to a whole new level. Thankfully, I hadn’t been in my bed that night, so it had been fairly easy to fire her when my cleaning lady found her.
I’d caught Suzanne naked in my trailer, waiting for me to come back from the set. I’d turned right back around and sent the assistant director in to fire her.
Rachel had been the worst. She had insisted she was a submissive—after I’d hired her, mind you—and kept dropping hints that she was a bad girl and needed a spanking. Needless to say, I had fired her when the grocery delivery boy found her naked and presenting herself in my foyer.
So, yes, I had experience with both types.
In my defense, I’d only ever hired women. So, when Troy applied for the job, I had instantly jumped on the opportunity. Well, maybe not instantly. I’d checked his references. If it mattered, his father had said he was a great assistant, but good ol’ Franklin had wanted his son to do more with his life. After a nice chat with the old man, I’d thanked him, then called Troy and offered him the job.
We’d been going strong for three years. Sadly, as of late, getting him to show up had become an issue. While I was pretending not to be worried about it, I couldn’t keep from thinking that the repeat break-ins he had experienced were related to me. Although he didn’t seem to have associated them with me, I knew better.
Hence the reason I’d insisted he move into my house and hired a bodyguard to keep an eye on him going forward.
Of course, I’d used the excuse that I needed him at my side, twenty-four seven as the reason he was moving in. And I did, so it wasn’t too much of a stretch. Personally, I took offense when Luke McCoy called me a diva, but I had to admit, I was spoiled. I wanted an assistant who was willing to drop everything for whatever I needed, and I was willing to pay accordingly.
Troy was that guy.
Mostly.
For whatever reason, I’d kept him out of this aspect of my life. I honestly didn’t know why that was either. I didn’t feel threatened by Troy. I knew he wouldn’t go to the tabloids and blast my personal business across the front page. But I’d still been hesitant to introduce him to this world.
In hindsight, I figured it had more to do with the fear of scaring him off. As I’d said, Troy was a great assistant. I’d come to depend on him, so I worried that he wouldn’t be able to handle the darker side of my world.
That wasn’t the case anymore. I was ready for him to be part of it.
In more ways than merely my assistant.
As I typed in the code to disengage the electronic lock, my thoughts drifted back to that incident in my office a short time ago. I had no clue what came over me or why I’d suggested I test him. There was absolutely no doubt in my mind Troy Shelton was submissive. Every bone in his body spoke of an inherent desire to serve, a deep need to please. It was more than obvious.
Yet I found myself wanting to see it for myself.
And I had.
What worried me most was my reaction to him.
Okay, fine. Worried probably wasn’t the right word. I wasn’t exactly worried that my dick had stirred when he had gone to his knees so easily. I was a sexual man. A dominating man. I was also a visual man. The fact that Troy had gone to his knees at my command… I was sure my reaction was completely rational.
However, the fantasies I’d been having of him and Clarissa for the past year were what had me worrying. I knew that these thoughts were a little more than mere curiosity on my part. For one, I’d never been with a man. Yet there was a very powerful need to dominate Troy, to strap him down and slide deep inside the tight depths of his body.
And sure, if the tabloids got wind of that, they’d no doubt have a field day, announcing I was confused about my sexuality. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I was confused. But if the press did get wind of it—and I suspected they would—then we’d deal. I wasn’t the type to shy away from my own desires. Not even if they took me by surprise.
“This does not look at all like I expected,” Troy announced when we walked into the main area of the fetish club known as Devotion. The lights were off, the bars shut down, the glass-enclosed rooms sterilized and waiting for their next guests.
