Beck and Call(9)

By: Abby Gordon

Her plan worked until she opened the desk drawer to store her purse the next morning.

There was a brown paper-wrapped package with her name in block letters.

Just then her phone rang. Jumping, she reached out and answered it.

“Serena Traydon.”

“Good morning,” said a deep voice. “Is Keith in yet?”

“Not yet, Mark,” she said stiffly, sitting down.

Dammit! Why hadn’t she checked the caller ID? She clenched her jaw. “I just walked in myself. You’re in early.”

“Always,” he stated firmly with his usual superior tone. “Is there room on his schedule to see me today? About noon?”

“I’ll check with him when he comes in, to make sure,” she replied coolly.


Beck And Call

“I need to talk to him, Serena,” he pressed. “Just put me down. For old times’ sake.”

“There were no ‘old times,’ Mark,” she said firmly.

“Serena,” he pushed.

“I’ll tell him you called and then give Claire the time.”

Hanging up, Serena shivered. Never, ever be alone with someone who makes your skin crawl!

That lesson had been well learned! How someone as sweet as Penny Davidson could be engaged to a dog like him Serena really couldn’t understand. Unless Mark was pulling the wool over the younger woman’s eyes in a huge way.

Serena shook her head. She knew better than to worry about the entire world. Her eyes went to the innocent-looking package and she reached for it.

“Oh, Lord,” she breathed. Her trembling fingers moved along the smooth surface of the paper. “What on earth could this be?”

She was almost afraid to find out. Once let out of its tightly locked box, her sexual awareness refused to be put away. Already her dreams were becoming more than she could handle. And it didn’t help that Keith was the man in them!

“I’m worse than Pandora,” she muttered, putting the package on her lap. “And just about as naïve to actually open this thing. I’ve no idea who put the first book on my desk.” Her fingers moved along the edge of the paper and loosened the tape. “Much less this one.” Serena’s hands stalled and she simply stared at the package. “What on earth has gotten into you, Serena Marie? You are doing things your mama didn’t raise you to do. She raised you to be a good girl and you are…,” Serena sighed. “God! I am so tired of being a good girl. I want to live a little.” A small giggle escaped her nervous lips. “And I liked the first book. What can it hurt to open this one?” 21

Abby Gordon

With that, she pulled the wrapping off and saw a note taped to the book. The words were typed.


Do not be afraid of how the books make you feel.

I want you get in touch with a side of yourself that you haven’t explored. The first book was to open your mind to different erotic possibilities. I hope this second book also arouses your senses even as it introduces you to my world.

I am a sexual dominant and feel quite confident that you are a sexual submissive. I want you to be my

sexual submissive. A submissive is not a sex slave. I respect your intelligence and your accomplishments too much for that. I want you to fulfill your talents, Serena, even as you enjoy the many erotic lessons I have planned for you.

If you want nothing to do with this, then turn the wrapper inside out, tape the book up and put it in the recycling bin in the employee cafeteria during your lunch hour. I will not contact you again.

If the possibility of such a relationship intrigues you, however, then ask someone else to get lunch for you and avoid the cafeteria so there is no confusion.

Just read the books and I will contact you. You will not know who I am at first. I realize this may be alarming, and I will do what I can to reassure you that your safety, as well as your pleasure, will always come first with me.


A dominant

Hands shaking, Serena lifted the note and stared at the cover—a nude woman on her knees, with her hands bound by a cloth in front of her, a blindfold over her eyes, and a gold-link collar around her throat. And she was smiling. Over her head, in discreet silver letters— Rights and Responsibilities in a Dominant/Submissive Relationship.

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