Executive Orders (closed for Momadness)

Samantha's eyes fell to the thumb-drive Everett placed carefully into her open palm, and she closed her fingers around it, heart pounding in her chest. He was giving up his leverage? Was it over? Was he saying goodbye? Did he want her to go? Or was he…

"I have loved you ever since before I was hired on with you. You just never knew it."

She blew out a short breath, tightness squeezing her throat. She thought back to the bitchy boss who treated every executive assistant she'd ever had like they were worthless. Like they were beneath her notice except to run whatever ridiculous errand she felt like sending them on. "You must have been so disappointed," the whisper barely made it out past the tears blocking her breath.

She looked up into Everett's eyes, blinking back the wetness flooding her eyes. "What Mistress EllenX said…" she paused, "I ran because it scared me."

Everett opened his mouth to speak, but Samantha interrupted. "It terrified me… because I wanted it. In that moment, when she spoke the question…"

So, when is the wedding you two?

She looked directly into Everett's eyes, swallowing hard. She would be as brave as he was… she had to be. "…I wanted it more than I've ever wanted anything in my entire life."

A wide smile lit his face and he reached for her, leaning in for a kiss, but she pulled back abruptly, standing to pace the small room. "But there's so many things…" She watched the light in his eyes dim.

"You've opened me up," she shot a small grin at him, "literally as well as figuratively." She turned, still pacing. "You exposed…" She slapped her hand over her mouth with a giggle. "ok, I didn't mean for this to be so…" She dropped into the armchair opposite the couch.

"You uncovered a part of me that I had hidden even from myself. The part of me that loves being controlled, being coerced. The part that aches to submit. You found Sammy." She blushed, smiling at him.

"I don't want to let that go. I can't. But I don't know if I can be Sammy 24/7. What would our relationship be like when I'm not?" She looked down at the thumb-drive in her fist. "I want to find out. I want to figure out if we can even have one."

She stood again, tucking the thumb-drive into her bag before tossing it and her wrap on the chair behind her. She bent, reaching down with a seductive smile as she grabbed the hem of her knitted dress, shimmying as she drew it up and over her head, tossing it aside.

She planted her hands on her hips a moment smiling at the heat in Everett's eyes. The sheer red lace bustier and ruffled garter hid nothing, only accentuated her already hourglass figure. She let her hips roll with a soft, sensual sashay over to where Everett sat and she dropped to her knees, spreading them wide as she settled back.

"But I don't intend to let go of my Master while we try to figure out the rest of it." Her eyes drifted down to the thick bulge pressing against the fly of his jeans and she squirmed, her tongue unconsciously flicking out to lick her lips. "I need him too much." She tore her eyes away from his jeans to look up into the eyes staring down at her with an indecipherable expression. "I think I… love him."
 
Samantha's heart pounded. Her pulse roared in her ears. She had to get out. Now. She couldn't listen to another word. She grabbed up her dress and had it slipped over her head, her bag and wrap in her shaking hands before she reached the apartment entryway. She could not face her reflection in the hall mirror. Humiliation… mortification drained the blood from her face. Her eyes were dull pools of pain.

Pain fast morphing into fury.

She slammed the door behind her, storming down the apartment steps and outside to hail the first cab she saw, giving him the address of Evie's brownstone.

Consumed with ever growing rage, she had no memory of the ride, or paying the cabbie after he dropped her off. She only became aware of the dull throb in her palm when she realised she was pounding on Evie's door, shouting her name.

The door had barely begun to open when Samantha pushed her way in, wild, "who the hell do you think you are!?" she screeched. "How dare you!"

Evie calmly stepped aside, "Sam," she arched her brow with a sarcastic, "won't you come in?"

"You set me up!" Samantha raged, pacing, "you've been playing me all along. I thought you were my friend!"

"He told you." Evie sighed. "I am your friend." She stood her ground, arms crossed, radiating calm. "He's perfect for you. He's exactly what you need. I could see that the moment I met him."

"That's not your decision!" Samantha shook with outrage, finger pointed in Evie's direction. "You had no right!"

"Sam, I know you. You need this." Evie tilted her head, studying Samantha, "even now, you're still wearing his collar."

Samantha paled, fingers lifting to the collar still locked around her throat. She took a deep breath. "It's locked on." She glared at Evie. "Either you get it off me now, or I'll cut it off myself later."

Evie sighed. "I might be able to pick the lock, just a moment." She walked into the other room and came back in a matter of minutes carry some slender metal tools. Samantha lifted her chin and Evie stepped closer, working the lock open. She dropped the opened collar into Samantha's hand.

Samantha tossed it back. "Keep it. I don't want it anymore." She turned to open the door.

"Wait! Where are you going?"

Samantha didn't look back. "He doesn't want me." The pain of that still tore through her. She shrugged, dropping her head. "And I don't know if I can ever trust you again." She closed the door sharply and walked down the steps to hail another cab.

Evie sighed and turned back to the kitchen, setting the empty collar on the island as she picked up the phone and dialled Everett's number.

___

As Samantha settled into the cab, her phone chimed for an incoming email. She picked it up to look and saw that it was incoming from her work address. She hesitated a moment and then sighed, opening it. She scanned it and her heart dropped. It was Everett's resignation.

He couldn't be clearer than that. He wanted nothing more to do with her. That's what all his speech boiled down to… it was fun while it lasted but now it was over. He didn't love her. He loved the woman he'd watched on the news. The mask that she wore for her public persona. The woman her adoring fans loved. The woman that the real Samantha was definitely not.

She wondered now if that little scene with the other woman was for her benefit. Certainly he hadn't known she was going to arrive, but had he noticed her standing there? Was it his way of letting her know how unwanted submissives would be treated? Was it Everett's way of warning her to stay away if she didn't want the same scorn?
Her phone rang, startling her out of her painful musings. She hesitated, but checked the number. Bill McLean. Executive Producer of the Sunday Newsmagazine. She answered. "Yes, Bill. What can I do for you?"

"Samantha, I need you. Desperately!"

"Sorry, Bill. Not today."

"Sam, please. That jackass Stone is drunk off his ass again. I need someone on air in his place in 2 hours!"

"I can't, Bill."

"Sam! We're desperate. It's just a simple location shoot. Please!"

Samantha hesitated a moment, thinking. "Bill. Call Everett Johnson. He can do it."

"Your assistant?" Bill squawked.

She sighed. "Not anymore."

She heard a low chuckle. "Cut another one loose, did you?"

"Not exactly. He wants bigger and better things. He'll be great."

"You sure about this, Sam?"

"I am. Don't let him refuse you either. If CNN or MSNBC hires him out from under you, you'll be kicking your ass for the rest of your career when they trounce us in the ratings."

"All right. So I guess first thing tomorrow you're on the hunt for a new assistant, hey?"

"First thing next week. I'm taking a few days. I need some personal time."

"Everything okay, Sam?"

"Fine. I just need some time away. Thanks, Bill."

"OK. I hope you're right about this kid."

"I am. You'll see. Talk to you next week, Bill."

"Ok, next week. Thanks, Sam."

She quickly closed the call and turned off her phone, settling back for the long drive.

___


Samantha eased out of the driver's seat and stretched. After getting home and packing a small bag, she'd headed back out, told Douglas she'd be out for the foreseeable future and not to worry. Then she'd climbed into her SUV and started to drive.

Locking the SUV, she walked along a winding sandy path in the grass, headed toward a towering old oak tree. Settled in the shade of that tree were two small headstones. She knelt down, eyes filling with tears. Poppi. Nana.

Within a few minutes, she heard a throat clearing behind her. "Excuse me, ma'am, but this is private property. I'm going to have to ask you to leave." She looked up. "Oh, Ms. Noelle! I'm sorry, I didn't recognise you!"

She smiled sadly. "It's alright, John. I've been away far too long."

"You should have let us know you were coming, my dear. We'd have got things ready for you."

She stood, brushing the grass off her knees. "I hadn't really planned it. I just needed to get away for a while. No one knows to look for me here. I can have a little privacy." She sniffled, tightness filling her chest. "I came to work, John. Not to relax. You and Mary take care of this place, not me. What can I help you with?"

John smiled, recognising the sadness she was trying to hide. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, leading her away from the two little markers. "Well, let's just head back to the house and let Mary know you're here. Then we'll see if we can find some work in the garden, or the orchard for you. I'm sure Mary's ready to start canning up a storm."

Samantha smiled, it was almost like walking beside her Poppi again.
 
John led Samantha into the big, cheery kitchen. The warmth and heavenly smell filling the air testament to the afternoon's activities, even without seeing the pies lined up on the counter. "Mary, look who's come to visit."

The short, rounded figure turned, dusting the flour off her hands. "Ms. Noelle?" She stepped closer, opening her arms wide, "there's my dear… come to Mary."

Samantha sniffled, slipping easily into Mary's hug, much to the older woman's surprise. Mary looked over Samantha's shoulder to meet John's concerned gaze. "There, there, dear." Mary released the hug, stepping back to the counter. Lifting a large cookie off the cooling rack, she dusted the extra flour off on her apron before handing it to Samantha.

Samantha sat at the large island, offering a small smile of thanks, taking the still warm treat and biting into it. Soft buttery sweetness melted across her tongue. "Mmmmmm… Mary," she moaned, around her mouthful. "Delicious as always."

"You're just in time, dear. I was about to start on the bread, and these old arms could use a break from kneading dough. Think you could handle that?"

Samantha nodded. How had she never noticed before just how kind John and Mary were to her? "That sounds absolutely perfect." She walked over to the sink, and turned on the tap to wash her hands. "I haven't baked anything since before Nana…" she swallowed, taking a deep breath. "You measure and tell me what to do. I'll knead."

Mary nodded. Many a loaf of bread had served to help her work out her own frustrations over the years. If some mindless physical activity was what she needed, it was something Mary could provide. "Well, all right then." She began to measure out ingredients, explaining each step to Samantha, and together they went to work.

When Samantha next looked up several hours later, rolling her stiff shoulders, Mary was pulling the first batch of loaves from the oven. "Now you brush the tops of these with butter, and I'll throw in the next batch."

Samantha inhaled deeply, savouring the smell of warm, fresh bread and soft, melting butter.

John came back into the kitchen, "Smells like pure heaven in here, darlin'." He nuzzled his whiskered chin into Mary's neck.

"Oh, stop it, you!" Mary giggled, pushing him away.

John grinned, turning to Samantha. "Your phone has been buzzing away something fierce in the other room there, miss."

"It has? I didn't even notice." Samantha was a bit surprised that she hadn't. The peace of this place had so completely filled her, she had forgotten the rest of the world for the last few hours. "Excuse me, please," she smiled to them both, "I should probably check it."

She wiped her hands on her apron as she lifted it over her head and dropped it on the counter. As she headed into the entryway where her bags were still sitting, she heard the phone go off again and quickly grabbed it up, automatically checking the number.

"Hello? Bill? I told you I'm taking a few days. What part of that didn't you understand?"

"Sorry, Sam, change of plans."

"Um… no. I'm sorry, Bill. You forget who you're speaking to. You and I both know that I can call my own shots. I'll be back next week. Not before."

"Just listen, Sam… you were right, ok? The Johnson kid was fantastic. Stone's out and Johnson's in as the new anchor for 'Eye on Sunday'."

Samantha smiled, momentarily thrilled for Everett. It was the first step to everything he wanted. He must be so excited. She couldn't wait to… the smile faded. She wouldn't be sharing this moment or any other moment with Everett. He didn't want her. Now that he was on his way, he didn't need her anymore.

"That's great, Bill, but it has nothing to do with me."

"oh, but it does. The network's investing in this kid, big time. They've got the broadcast online already and they've ramped up the ad cycle to get people watching, but he needs more exposure. They've scheduled him for a one-on-one interview with Ms. Samantha Noelle on 'Fox 'N Friends' tomorrow morning."

"What?! NO way, Bill. Just no."

"It's non-negotiable, Sam. Sorry. They've already started the promo ads. You're going to introduce Everett Johnson to all your fans as the man to watch. Tell them all how you plucked him from a lowly assistant's job and got him his dream. It makes a great rags to riches story. Viewers will eat it up."

"Jesus, Bill, you didn't tell him that, did you?" What would he think? That he owed her? That she wanted his gratitude? No, no, no.

"He knows you recommended him for the job."

Samantha groaned audibly, struggling not to throw the phone across the room. Everything was spinning out of her control.

"Listen Sam, I'll email you the script. Sorry, but this is the deal. No choice. If he's going to be the new anchor, then he's getting the one-on-one with you tomorrow morning. No interview, no anchor position. This is coming straight from the top."

"And if I refuse?"

"He loses his shot. And honestly? I'm not sure you and I will keep ours. You know how the network is… success is all theirs. Failure… that never is."

She sighed, trapped. "You have no idea what you're going to owe me, Bill. No fucking idea."

Bill chuckled, "You can collect from the kid instead."

Samantha couldn't share the laugh. "Good-bye, Bill." She ignored his protesting squawk and turned off her phone. Let them all sweat!

No matter how much she might wish things were different, she wouldn't chase after Everett. She'd offered herself to him, knelt half-naked at his feet, and he'd rejected her. He didn't want her and she couldn't blame him.

He deserved someone young and vibrant and emotionally whole, someone who could be a proper submissive. Not someone like her… someone old and emotionally damaged, someone who continually fought him and ran away at every opportunity.

That knowledge didn't leave her heart any less broken.

She turned to head back into the kitchen and say her good-byes to John and Mary. She had a long drive back to the city, and if she had to face Everett first thing in the morning, she needed to sleep in her own bed tonight. Assuming she got any sleep at all.
 
Samantha tossed in her bed, flipping from her left side to her right and back again, sleep eluding her. It didn't help that she usually slept best oh her back, but the fresh tattoo made that impossible. Each twinge was a constant reminder, not that her circling mind needed it. Every image winding through her mind was of Everett.

Everett's mouth on hers… forceful, fiery kisses that drove everything but him from her mind. Kisses that branded her as his down to her very soul.

Everett's hands… fisting in her hair, spanking her ass, bruising her hips with his fingerprints as he pounded into her.

Everett's cock… fucking her, filling her, claiming her in ways she'd never been taken before. Making her his.

His.

NO! Not his. He doesn't want that. Doesn't want me.

He's got what he wanted now. He's an anchor. His dream job.


Samantha found herself staring at her laptop, watching Everett's debut online. His voice washed over her. His eyes were bright and shining. His enthusiasm was obvious and infectious. This show would definitely be his catapult into the big leagues. Her wide smile faded. He truly will be gone.

By 4 am she'd given up on the tossing and turning and just decided to get up and get into the studio. She took a quick shower, removing the bandage from her tattoo and smoothing some lotion over it. She could feel that it was beginning to scab over.

She couldn't look at it. It was the only piece of Everett she had left and she couldn't regret it, but the pain of losing him was still too fresh to make seeing it anything but heart-rending.

She skipped breakfast, doubting she would be able to hold anything down today. Pulling on a white blouse and her black suede pencil skirt, she slipped into a pair of red leather pumps and hesitated only a moment before adding her fire opal earrings as a final touch. She didn't spend much time on her hair or make-up, knowing Janine would take care of it when she got to the studio.


---


"Sam?"

She turned in the make-up chair to glare at Bill, not deigning to answer.

"What the fuck did you do to yourself?"

She arched a brow, smoothing her short blond hair. "What? You don't like it?"

Bill crossed his arms over his chest. "Everyone here knows what a ball-busting bitch you are, but to try to sabotage the kid already? You were the one who recommended him for chrissake!"

Samantha paled. "What are you…"

"You just couldn't stand for that attention to be on him instead of you. Is that it? Real nice, Sam. So much for the kid's big break." Bill shook his head. "It's gorgeous, but you couldn't have maybe waited until tomorrow?" He turned toward the door, calling over his shoulder. "Kid's already out there waiting. You're on in 15," and he walked out the door.

Samantha turned back to the mirror, tears filling her eyes, only sheer force of will keeping them from spilling over.

"Ms. Noelle?" Janine, her stylist, whispered, "It really is beautiful… but I have an idea if you'd like to try it…"

Samantha blinked, looking up into Janine's smiling eyes as the stylist nodded toward a long line of wigs on the shelves behind her.

Nine minutes later, Samantha left her dressing room, hair swinging in long chestnut waves down her back just as it always had, make-up perfect, no sign of her inner turmoil in evidence from the cool expression on her face. She pointedly ignored Bill's shocked and grateful grin as she walked passed him, head held high.

She walked over to the interview set, barely sparing a glance for Everett, fighting to maintain her cool, disinterested expression, to give no sign of the nervous yearning filling her belly. She was unprepared for the jolt of being so close to him again. Of the nearly overwhelming urge to throw herself at his feet.

Shocked, she looked away. She was Michelle. Humiliation warred with irritation. This was what he had reduced her to… Samantha Noelle… desperate, pathetic… no different than that low class bitch she'd seen throwing herself at Everett.

The director waved for her attention, counting down the feed and Samantha took a deep breath, pasting on a bright smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, and announced her interview with Fox's newest Sunday night anchor right after the commercial break.

She waited through the countdown, licking her lips and brushing her hands over her skirt, smoothing it.

"4…3…2…1…"

She smiled brightly into the camera, "welcome back." Turning to Everett, she forced the smile to remain in place. "So, Everett, welcome. And congratulations!"

"Thank you… Samantha."

"So, I'm sure all our viewers would like to know… how does it feel? Anchor is a position that every reporter aspires to… something of a dream job, isn't it? Tell us all a bit about how you got here."
 
Samantha felt her jaw drop, her eyes widen, and fought to keep both reactions minimal. Only long experience with maintaining her professional appearance in an interview saved her.

It had been quite a while since she'd read Everett's resume, and she'd admittedly only glossed over it at the time, not so much because she trusted HR, but because very few of her assistants lasted long enough that she needed to know any personal information. The bio Bill had emailed her for a refresher, sent along with the questions they wanted asked this morning, hadn't really been necessary, but she'd read it all the same. Samantha Noelle was always prepared.

Only she wasn't. She felt the flustered blush rising in her cheeks. She was not prepared at all for the incredible compliments that Everett was offering. A privilege? To work for her? A privilege to run pointless errands? To fetch her coffee or her dry cleaning?

His greatest honour was to work with her? She blinked, ducking her head a moment and running her hand through her hair, tucking it behind her ear.

Bill, watching from behind the scenes, whistled softly, whispering, "Holy shit, would you look at that! The Ice Queen is blushing!"

"No, truthfully, it was my privilege to work with you. You know how I feel about supporting our troops. Veterans are always at the top of my list when I'm hiring." She smiled into the camera. "Which I guess I will be again since I just lost my best assistant. I don't imagine there's anything I can do to convince him to give up the chance of a lifetime and come back to work for me!" She flashed a quick smile toward the studio audience and looked back into the camera. "We'll be right back after a quick commercial break, and we'll take a few questions from our viewers."

"And we're clear! Sixty seconds, people!"

Samantha fidgeted in her seat, looking everywhere but at the man seated across from her.

It's almost over, she promised herself. Just get through the next few minutes and he'll be on his way. You won't ever need to see him again.

Janine had stepped in to quickly adjust her hair, brushing a little more powder across her cheeks, as another stylist smoothed the shoulders of Everett's jacket. Grateful for the reprieve, Samantha took the opportunity to draw a few deep breaths in an attempt to steady her thrumming heartbeat.

"4…3…2…1.."

She smiled, "and we're back with Everett Johnson, Fox's newest anchor and brand new host of Eye on Sunday. I think we have a question from our studio audience. Josh?" She looked up, catching the eye of a young boy in the front.

As the boy asked a question about how he got started as a journalist and Everett answered, Samantha sat back, watching how animated he became, how he engaged with his audience. It was the same enthusiasm he'd shown when…

No. Don't go there. Forget any of that ever happened. He has.

She pushed it out of her mind, focussing instead on the last question she had for Everett, while he was still busy answering audience questions. Her eyes widened and she glanced up, catching Bill's eye as he stood off-camera, watching the interview. She shook her head, no.

He just smiled, offering only a sharp nod, pointing toward Everett.

She swallowed, unconsciously licking her lips, her mouth suddenly feeling parched.

"Alright," she nodded, "we have time for one last question, and this one comes from our tv viewing audience…" she paused, forcing calm. "Allie has texted to ask… are you single or do you have a special girl? And if you don't, can I apply for the position?"

The audience howled and Samantha felt another flush steal over her cheeks. "Allie's words," she forced a teasing chuckle and a wink at the camera, hiding the nervous trembling of her hands by reaching up to play with her hair, tucking it behind her ears.
 
Samantha ignored Bill's praise as he dragged Everett away to brief him on his schedule and deliver him to his first of several interviews. She wished they could have had even just a minute in private. A few seconds even. Just long enough to confirm that he really meant what she thought he did… that he'd changed his mind. That he did want her. Was it possible? Or was she just seeing what she wished to see?

He had no reason to change his mind.

But he had no reason to string her along either. He'd given her the pictures. He's got his dream job.

Or was that the reason? Now that he'd given up his leverage over her, was he just trying to use flattery and feigned emotion to get back into her bed? To get her back on her knees?

She sighed, heading back to her dressing room. He was going to be too busy today for them to have that minute together anyway. She settled into the chair and offered a half-smile to her stylist. "Thank you, Janine. You're a lifesaver. It worked like a charm. At least, no one seemed to notice the difference." She lifted the curtain of hair off her neck. "I'd already forgotten how hot this is under the lights though," she chuckled. "Let's lose it, shall we?"

"Yes, ma'am," Janine smiled, peeling off the wig and brushing out and restyling Samantha's own hair.

Twenty minutes later, as Samantha headed toward her own office, she saw Susan Richards from HR standing there next to a tiny, timid-looking little thing with a nervous smile.

"Susan?" Samantha strode up to them. "Were you looking for me?"

"Samantha." Susan nodded, cool and disinterested. "Yes, I understand that you're going to need another new assistant." She managed to put a slight emphasis on 'another' without changing the lack of expression on her face.
"Yes," Samantha nodded, "my last assistant has-…"

"Yes, yes," Susan interrupted. "We know." As if it were obvious that HR would be among the first to know. She turned to introduce the young woman beside her. "This is Annie Harrington, your new assistant. Annie? I'm sure you know Ms. Samantha Noelle."

Annie smiled widely, reaching out to enthusiastically shake Samantha's hand. "oh, yes! I do indeed. Such a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Noelle! I'm so looking forward to working with you!"

Samantha smiled and nodded to Annie, glaring slightly at Susan. "But I haven't even started to interview…"

"No need," Susan interrupted again. "Annie is your girl."

Annie giggled, blushing. "yes, ma'am. Anything you need, ma'am. Just let me know. I'm so happy to be here. This is just the best day of my life!"

Oh lord, she's Pollyanna. Samantha sighed. Her cellphone chimed and she pulled it out to answer it. At the same moment, Annie jumped with a startled squeak, diving toward the desk to grab at the telephone, colliding with Samantha's hand. Completely caught off guard, Samantha couldn't hold on to the phone and it went flying across the outer office, skittering across the floor and under a desk.

"Oh no! Oh, Ms. Noelle, I'm so sorry! I'll get it," Annie scrambled after the phone, clambering under the desk to pull it out, waving it in the air. "Got it!" She stood up. "oh."
She walked slowly back to where Samantha still stood. "I think you're going to need to replace it." She showed Samantha the shattered black screen. "Let me do that. My first job for you!" Annie smiled widely.

It was on the tip of her tongue to send Annie packing, but Samantha hesitated. Hadn't she been regretting how she'd treated Everett? This was her opportunity to mend her ways. By giving Annie another chance. Besides, it would be worth it just to see the shock on Susan's face when she didn't fire another assistant on the spot.

"Thank you, Annie. Please have this one replaced and bring the new one to my office."

"Yes, ma'am!"

Samantha swallowed a sigh. Hopefully the enthusiasm would ease soon. Turning to head into her own office, she settled behind the desk, working through the first stack of correspondence.

When she looked up again, several hours had passed and her new cellphone was sitting on her desk. She hadn't even noticed Annie bring it in. Picking it up, she flipped it on to check for missed calls or messages.

Her heart flipped to see several calls from Everett's number, but there were no messages left. Her IM chimed and she jumped, almost dropping the phone. It was from Evie, and she ignored it.

Noticing an earlier IM waiting from Everett though, she held her breath and opened it.

"Please stop running, Sammy. If you don't want me, say it and I will leave you alone. If you do, meet me in your office, tonight at 8. I love you."

She blew out the breath she'd been holding. He loved her?

He loved her?

Grinning wildly, she stared at her watch, willing the time to move faster. She stood, pacing around the office. Staring with a blush at the coffee table, the couch, even her desk. Remembering herself bound, on display, on that very table. Being fucked so thoroughly bent over her own desk.

He would be here any minute! Should she sit? Should she kneel? Should she put on the collar or cuffs from her little toy chest? Oh why hadn't she kept his collar? She wanted it. More than anything, she wished she was holding it at this very moment.

She glanced at the clock. Where was he? Everett was always punctual. He wouldn't be late. Was something wrong?

She waited a moment longer, then shook her head. What was she doing? His office was right next door. No need to wait and worry. Just go check. It wasn't an order. She wasn't wearing a collar.

Checking her watch once more, she stood and walked out her office door toward Everett's office. His new assistant, that office slut Maria stood in her way, blocking the door to his office.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Noelle. Mr. Johnson is out of the office. He has a big interview at the White House tomorrow. He thought it made more sense to leave tonight than to go in the morning. I can't allow you in to his office without his permission." She grabbed up some random paperwork off her desk. "I just came back to get some papers we forgot. I'm meeting him at the airport shortly."

Samantha glared, but before she could question her, Bill McLean stepped off the elevator and walked over. "There you are, Sam. I've been looking everywhere for you. I need you to come with me."

"Bill," she warned.

"uh uh uh," Bill grinned, wrapping an arm around Samantha's back and leading her to the elevators. "no arguments. Your assistant," he nodded with raised eyebrow.

"Annie," the girl offered.

Bill winked. "Annie, can lock up your office for you."

Samantha cast a glance back at Everett's office and sighed. He was on his way to Washington tonight anyway. She glared back at Bill. "You owe me, Bill," she muttered.

"Yes, I do," he grinned. "And I am ready and willing to pay up."

Annie giggled, offering Samantha's purse over. "Your office is all locked up, ma'am, and here's your bag."
Samantha accepted the bag with a soft sigh. "Thank you, Annie. Please, go home and get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow. Bill, I'm all yours."

Bill tossed his head back with a loud laugh, wrapping his arm around Samantha's shoulders. "If only!"

"Ass!" Samantha growled.

"Shrew!" Bill teased back as the elevator doors closed behind them.

A few mintues later, after straightening their desks and sorting a last bit of paperwork, both young women headed toward the elevators, pressing the button and waiting.

Everett's door flung open and he hurried over to Samantha's pulling a key from his pocket and unlocking her office door. Finding the office empty, he pulled the door shut again and pulled out his cell, started typing a quick text.

"She's gone."

Maria's voice, coming from the dark by the elevators, startled him.

"She left with Bill McLean. I'd have thought any man would be afraid of getting frostbite on his dick with that bitch, but they looked pretty cozy."

Ignoring her, Everett hit send on the text and waited.

Unnoticed behind the closed door, Samantha's cellphone chimed softly on the couch in her office.
 
Samantha sighed, taking another swallow of her drink. Why on earth had Bill insisted she come here of all places? Toby Keith's latest song roared across the dance floor as she rolled her eyes with a wince, wondering how soon she could make a graceful exit. At this moment, she would settle for any exit.

She glanced over at Bill and his wife flirting with each other in the corner and wondered again why she needed to be the third wheel on what looked to be a fun date for them. She didn't need a babysitter, and this was certainly not anyplace she would choose to spend her time.

"Hey there, darlin'," a low voice drawled behind her and she sighed again, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "what's a pretty little thing like you doing here all by her lonesome?"

Samantha rolled her eyes, spinning on her stool to look at the man behind the drawl. "Excuse me?" she let the icy disdain fill her voice, coldly staring up and down his body. He looked like some kind of pathetic Village People, Magic Mike wannabe. Granted he had a stunning physique, and was easy on the eyes… but… there was no substance there.

Nothing of the intensity, the pure power that Everett had… no sense of controlled passion, no answering yearning in herself. The only urge she felt with this one was to squash him like a bug.

She glared. "I think you've mistaken me for someone who cares," she shooed him with a careless toss of hand. "Away. Go. Now."

Without waiting for his response, she turned and walked away, weaving between tables toward Bill and Helen. Enough already. "Listen, Bill," she half shouted, to be heard over the loud music, "I don't know why you wanted me here tonight, but I'm going to call it a night. Nice seeing you again, Helen." She smiled and nodded.

"No, wait, Sam! Sit down."

"Bill…"

"Just for a minute. Listen. The network has set you up to do a couple interviews in Washington tomorrow. They figured since they were sending one of the corporate jets anyway for the kid, two birds with one stone. You can hitch a ride and maybe give him a couple pointers on the way. I've already emailed you both portfolios. You need to be on the plane by 5:30 am."

Samantha raised her eyebrows, lifting her palms wide. "And the reason for this?"

"You said I owed you one," Bill grinned.

Rolling her eyes, she grinned, "for bringing me to this place, you owe me two! Good night, Bill."

"5:30!" He called after her retreating back.

She only waved, not breaking her stride.

The next morning she made a single, quick stop at the office to pick up her missing phone, finding it laying on the couch just where she'd left it, and to email Annie and let her know that she would be out of the office all day and request some research she wanted done for the next day.

As she walked out again, she glanced over to see Maria sitting at her desk, but no sign of Everett. Either he wasn't in yet or he was already waiting at the airport. She picked up her pace, hurrying to the elevators.

Striding quickly through the lobby, she called over her shoulder to the receptionist, "Is the limo to the airport still waiting?"

A faint answer of "yes, ma'am" followed her as she strode out the lobby doors toward the limo. The driver held the door open and Samantha smiled, thanking him as she slipped into the seat.

A rough, quiet, "Sammy," had her whipping her head around to stare at the man who growled her name, nervous butterflies swarming in her belly.
 
Samantha slid over, making room for Everett and Maria in the limo. She met Maria's suspicious look, not bothering to hide her disdain for the other woman. As if Samantha Noelle would be intimidated by anyone's assistant!

She could feel the heat of Everett's hip pressed against her own as he sat next to her, but she refused to relax into it. Not with Maria's hawk eyes on them.

He pulled out his phone and started quickly typing and she was unsurprised when her own phone chimed, announcing a test message. Letting a few moments tick by first, Samantha finally pulled up her IM and read the message.

"We need to talk on the plane. Your collar is missing. Does that mean what I think that means? I love you and I don't want to lose you."

She turned to watch the scenery flash by outside the car window, listening to Maria go on and on about serving Everett and satisfying all his needs. Did he not realise what the bitch was saying? Anger began to coil in Samantha's belly. Why didn't he do something? Make it clear he wasn't interested? The anger began to freeze into a little ball of ice. Unless… maybe… he was interested.

She lifted her phone and began to type rapidly.

"Really. As I recall, I was wearing it when I stripped and knelt for you in your apartment. You weren't interested. Remember?" Tears filled her eyes, blurring the screen, but she blinked them back. "I was making a point with Evie. I made her take it off of me. If you want it back, she has it." She looked out the window once, more before turning back to her screen. "I couldn't wear it on air anyway."

She pushed send and waited for the swoop to let her know the message was sent. Then she shut the phone down and tucked it back into her bag. There was nothing more to say. She didn't know what game he was playing at by continually insisting that he loved her when his every action said otherwise. Obviously he had no interest in being alone with her.

She folded her arms over her chest, turning away from the other two occupants of the limo and back to watching the scenery fly by outside. She'd spent a lot of years as an investigative reporter. She could take a hint.

She would NOT be Michelle. She blinked back more tears. She would not chase after a man who didn't want her. No matter what he said. No doubt Maria would happily distract him and he would forget about whatever game it was he was trying to play soon enough.

It was probably a good thing that they wouldn't have to endure this flight alone together after all.

***
 
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Samantha settled in the back of the news van, leaning her head against the cool window. She knew she was taking the coward's way out… running, again… but she needed to think. Definitely was not ready to face Everett again after his text.

… I never turned you down. You ran….

Her mind raced. Was that true? She cast her thoughts back. She'd avoided thinking about it as much as she could, but she was sure… hadn't he…

He'd told her he loved her. He confessed about knowing Evie, about knowing what Samantha did alone in her office. He said he protected her secret.

oh god… he hadn't.

He was right. She had run before he even had a chance to reject her. But if he hadn't turned her down, then he really did… love… her?

Her phone chimed, and she eagerly grabbed it up, opening the IM.

"I will be home tonight at 7PM. I still remember your schedule and you should be free and in town by 6PM. You will come to my home at 7PM sharp. If you don't show, I will understand what you mean and will leave you alone. The ball is in your court."

Smiling widely, Samantha read and re-read the text message. He hadn't given up on her. She could sense he was frustrated, unhappy with her behaviour. She suspected she might even be facing some discipline this evening. But truthfully, she wasn't too happy with her behaviour herself. She couldn't deny that she'd earned his disappointment.

She lifted her phone and started quickly typing. "I'm yours. I'll be there. I promise."

Just as she hit send, she heard Jason shout, "FUCK!" Time slowed down… tires squealed, the van spun out of control, glass shattered. Her phone went flying out of her hands.

--

Awareness returned with bright lights shining in Samantha's eyes. She blinked, mouth dry, every part of her body aching.

"Ms. Noelle? Are you awake? Ms. Noelle?"

She blinked again, Annie finally coming into focus. "Annie?" she spoke in something between a croak and a whisper.

"You're fine, Ms. Noelle. You're in the hospital. You were very lucky. No broken bones, just a slight concussion. They're only keeping you overnight for observation since you live alone."

Samantha winced, "Jason?"

Annie's shoulders drooped. "He swerved to miss a moose, but the van rolled. I'm afraid Jason didn't make it."

Samantha's eyes drifted closed, tears leaking.

Her eyes flew open as she grabbed at Annie's hand. "Time? Phone?"

Startled, Annie glanced at her watch. "It's 9:30pm, ma'am." She hesitantly patted Samantha's hand. "Your phone was shattered. I guess I'll be getting you a new one. Again." She smiled. "Is there someone you would like me to call for you? Family, or a friend?"

Samantha barely hesitated. "Everett. Please."
 
Samantha laughed. "I had a concussion. I was a little confused. I'm not sure I even recognised Annie last night when I asked her to call Everett for me. I was just calling for my poor harried assistant, as usual."

"And here we thought nothing could rattle that hard head of yours!" Bill winked.

She grinned, releasing Everett's hand to lift hers, scratching at her eyebrow with her middle finger. "Har-dee-har-har."

The entire group chuckled, moving in to settle bouquets on the few available spaces left. Everett stood, heading toward the door. "I think that's my cue. Bill, just letting you know, I may be a little late today." He grinned. "I'm heading home for a shower."

Samantha glanced up, a tiny little frown crinkling her forehead.

"Tomorrow's soon enough, Everett, take the day," Bill nodded. "We'll let you know when Jason's memorial is set."

Everett nodded his thanks to Bill, smiled at Samantha and headed out the door.

Samantha turned to look at Heather. "Thanks, but you all didn't need to come down. I'm fine. They've promised I can go as soon as my doctor comes by for morning rounds and okays it."

Heather smiled, patting Samantha's hand. "Of course we had to come."

They sat for a few awkward minutes, discussing the weather, the hospital room, anything but the accident. Finally Samantha couldn't stand it anymore. She deliberately yawned widely, letting her eyes droop half closed. "I'm sorry," she winced, "I didn't sleep too well last night, I'm still exhausted. Would you mind…"

"Of course, of course," Heather nodded. "You just get some rest, dear." Heather, Todd and Fred shuffled out of the room, Bill hanging back a moment after the others had gone.

"We just wanted to make sure you're ok, Sam," Bill shrugged. "Helen has insisted I invite you for dinner. You know I can't deny that woman anything."

She chuckled. "I know. Tell her I'll think about it. And thanks."

"Done." Bill hesitated a moment longer. "She told me to tell you to bring Everett if you like."

Samantha's mouth dropped open, her eyes wide. "I don't…"

Bill held up his hand. "It's not my business. Now that he's not your assistant any longer, there's no company policy expressly against it." He hesitated a moment and drew a breath. "Just… you might want to keep it quiet for a while. You recommended him for the job, and he's only just started. I don't want to see anything get in his way. Or yours."

"Bill…"

He waved his hand, stopping whatever she was going to say. "Sam, if he makes you happy, don't let anything come between you two. Even me."

"thank you, Bill," Samantha smiled, "and thank Helen."

Bill turned to walk out the door, sidestepping the doctor as he headed into her room.

"Ms. Noelle, you're looking much better this morning, how do you feel?"

After finishing his exam, the doctor smiled at her, making a few notations on her chart. "Everything looks good. I'm comfortable releasing you this morning. Do you have a ride home and someone to stay with you for at least a few hours?"

Everett answered from the doorway with a grin. "She has a ride home if she wants it."

Samantha's smile was incandescent. "She does. She definitely does."
 
Samantha stepped back from Everett's embrace, glancing once toward the closed, but not locked, door to her room. Bringing her eyes back to his, she could see the nervous tension beginning to grow in the tiny pinching around his eyes.

Holding his gaze with her own, she slipped the straps of the dress off her shoulders and shimmied it down over her hips, letting it drop to the floor. She flushed slightly, wishing that her body wasn't currently peppered with massive, purpling bruises.

Reaching behind her back with a slight wince, she unfastened her bra and tossed it aside onto her hospital bed. Stepping out of the dress as it lay on the floor, she bent to pick it up and shook it once before laying it on the bed as well.

She eased to her knees, raising her chin, but keeping her eyes lowered. She raised her arms to lift her hair up off her neck.

"Your slave would offer herself for her Master's collar, if it should please you."

She hesitated a moment and then looked up into Everett's eyes, tears sparkling in her own. "I do love you, Everett. So much more than I ever thought I was capable of loving anyone ever again. I want you as more than my Daddy or my Master. I want you as my family. You and your daughter both."

Her eyes dropped a moment, then resolutely lifted back up to meet his. "I know I haven't been a good person. I'm probably not the best role model. I've been more trouble to you than anything else." She blinked against the tears, swallowing heavily. "But I promise you, I can do better. I will do better. For you."

She hoped every bit of love and longing she was feeling was blazing from her eyes and evident in her voice. "Please, Master. Collar me. Make me yours forever. Be my family."
 
Samantha stood at the hospital entrance waiting for her Master to return. A soft, dreamy smile curled her lips and her eyes drifted closed. She reached up, curling her fingers around the silver lock at the base of her throat. Cradling it. Protecting it. This collar would never come off if she had any say in it.

The rev of an engine alerted her, and she opened her eyes just in time to see Everett pull up in a '68 Mustang Convertible. She barely taken a single step when he jumped out of the driver's side and dashed around to open her door and help her ease into the passenger seat.

She squeezed his fingers, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder and pressing a quick kiss of gratitude there as he pulled away, buckling her in and slamming the door shut. Smiling as she watched him move quickly back around to the driver's side, she waited until he was once more seated behind the wheel before leaning across the console to murmur, "thank you, Master."

Everett smiled, caressing her cheek lightly as he brushed his thumb across her lips. "You're mine to take care of now, pet. Forever."

Samantha pursed her lips, kissing his caressing thumb. "Forever," she whispered.

They pulled out of the parking lot and turned onto the street, merging easily into the flow of traffic. Stopping at the first red light, Everett eyes slid over to Samantha and he raised a brow.

Momentarily confused, Samantha hesitated. When he reached over the console to slide his hand from her knee up her thigh, she remembered their cab ride and immediately spread her knees wide.

"Good girl," Everett smiled and Samantha felt a rush of pleasure at the praise.

His warm, rough hand stroked over her thigh again, pushing the skirt of her dress up out of the way as he reached the juncture of her thighs, teasing and petting at her wet pussy.

Samantha moaned, head falling back, tossing side to side as she clutched at Everett's arm. "please…"

"Sweet ride you got there!"

Samantha's eyes flew open to see the leering grin of a man leaning out his truck window looking down into the convertible. She quickly ducked her head, blushing, pressing her face against Everett's arm.

"What I wouldn't give to take 'er for a spin sometime!"


She wasn't sure if he was talking about the Mustang or not, but she didn't dare look. Everett's hand didn't hesitate, continuing its soft stroking of her pussy, swirling around her clit. She could hear the grin in his voice. "Sorry, friend. This ride's all mine and I don't share."

The light changed and Everett hit the accelerator, revving the engine as he roared away, leaving the truck behind.

Samantha squirmed, writhing against her Master's fingers. All his. She was all his. "Master, please…" The tormenting fingers were pushing her higher and higher, closer and closer to the precipice. The tiniest brush of his fingers against her clit sent a jolt through her entire body, nipples throbbing in time with her aching, empty core.

She bit her lip, clenching her fists, fighting to hold back the orgasm threatening to send her trembling into the abyss.

"please, I can't… please… I need… Master!"
 
Samantha fought to hold in the giggles threatening to burst free. Jarvis would never approve.

She cleared her throat with a small cough. "Gentlemen!" Her best Samantha Noelle in charge voice rang through the bedroom.

Both men turned in her direction, the butler with the smallest nod of deference. Though not releasing his tight grip on the fireplace poker, he did lower it slightly. His eyes turned to Samantha, but his focus remained on the young man pushing in front of her.

Everett's eyes sparked, and Samantha could not read his expression. Was his irritation directed at her butler, or at her? Did he expect her to defer to him when it was clearly unnecessary?

"Jarvis," she pressed at Everett's arm but he refused to budge, leaving her to peek around his shoulder, forcing her expression into serious lines. "My apologies. Introductions should have taken place when we arrived and not in my bedroom. This is Everett Johnson. Mr. Johnson will be staying with me. Permanently. He will have complete access to our home."

Blushing slightly, she tugged at Everett's arm, bringing his attention back to her. "Everett, this is Alfred Jarvis." She bit back a small grin. "Jarvis is my butler… well, he's butler, chef, gardener… he's pretty much my everything."

Her smile faded slightly as a strange, unreadable expression sparked in Everett's eyes.

Everett's phone chimed and he checked it. "Damn. I have to go." He looked intently at Samantha. "We will talk later. We definitely have some things to discuss." He leaned down to press a light kiss to her forehead, whispering into her ear, "Do not forget who owns you, pet." He straightened up and stepped back. "I guess I can leave you in Alfred's capable hands. You get some rest now. Doctor's orders." He turned and strode out, calling over his shoulder, "I'll be back."

"My apologies for intruding, Madam," Jarvis bowed slightly, "if you'll excuse me, I should return to my duties."

"No apologies necessary, Jarvis, thank you." Samantha settled back into the bed, picking up the novel laying on her bedside table.

Fifteen mintutes and 2 pages later, she tossed the book aside in annoyance, bored. It was not holding her attention at all.

She curled her fingers around the lock at her throat, smiling. That simple gesture, just holding it, confirming its presence was somehow calming. The peace, the comfort of being owned, of being Everett's washed over her.

Her mind drifted, wondering again at the strange expression in his eyes before he left. Was he irritated with her already? Had she displeased him? She ran over the short conversation carefully in her mind again and again. Was it that she took charge? It was her home. Jarvis was her butler. It was her place to calm things and make introductions. Wasn't it?

Or was it something else? Was he upset at her announcement that he would be living here with her? He was a public personality now. He couldn't stay in his small, easily accessible apartment. But maybe he wanted his own place? She sighed. Would he be willing to let her move in with him? She would happily live in his little apartment if that's where he wanted to stay. As long as she could be with her Master, she didn't need anything else.

A tiny frown puckered her brow. It couldn't be Jarvis that upset him… could it? He couldn't have been worried about leaving her alone with Jarvis. That was just ridiculous.

She shook her head. This whole thing was ridiculous. She was probably worrying over nothing. It was probably all in her imagination. That's what comes of boredom. It was time to find something to occupy her mind, other than worrying about nothing.

Pushing back the covers, she sat up slowly, her entire body aching. Reaching for her soft, chenille robe with a tiny hiss, she wrapped it around herself, hiding the worst of the bruising. She slipped her feet into her fuzzy bunny slippers, she shuffled out the bedroom door toward her AV room.

"Madam," Jarvis appeared immediately at her shoulder. "You are supposed to be resting."

"It's alright, Jarvis. I'm not planning to do anything strenuous. Just a little work on the computer." He drew a breath to protest further, but she quickly interrupted, "would you mind bringing a cup of tea and a sandwich to me in my office? Thank you."

Two hours later, she sat up straight and stretched her aching back. Jarvis and long since brought and cleared away the small snack she'd asked for, and she'd worked her way through a long list of emails and research files. She winced again. The long hours parked in front of her computer hadn't done much for her aching muscles though.

She glanced at the clock. She just had time for a short soak in a hot shower, and she could still be safely back in bed by the time Everett got back. She smiled, planting one palm on the desk and the other on her chair's armrest to push herself up.

A few short minutes later she was easing into a steaming shower with a soft sigh. So good. She picked up a soft sponge and ran it gently over herself. She let her head fall back, eyes drifting closed.

She set aside the sponge and used her hands, caressing her breasts, stroking her mound. The barest hint of stubble caught her fingertips and she picked up her razor, making quick work of it, until her pussy was once again as bare and smooth as a baby's bottom.

She stood under the steamy spray a few minutes more, her stroking fingers moving more boldly, tweaking her nipples, circling her clit. Remembering Everett's hand playing with her pussy in the car on the way home, sending her higher and higher.

She moaned, her pussy throbbing. Time to get out of the shower. She stood, water cascading down her body and she stepped out, wrapping herself in a warm towel. After patting herself dry and smoothing lotion over her skin, she slipped back into the satin nightgown and eased back into bed.

Her entire body throbbed with need. She craved her Master's hands, his cock. She licked her lips with a tiny moan. He'd needed only 2 fingers this morning to bring her to a shattering climax in his car, but what she really craved was his cum. She wanted it. She needed it like she needed air to breathe.

She whimpered, eyes clenched tight, head tossing side to side, as she pressed her fingers into her pussy, rubbing her throbbing clit.

"Just what do you think you're doing?"

Samantha's eyes flew open to see her Master standing in her bedroom doorway, arms crossed over his chest.
 
Samantha arched her back with a gasp, pushing her breasts up. Cool air rushed over them to replace the warmth of the wax and her nipples puckered tightly. "Master!" She could feel the blood rushing to the surface, her flesh pinking up where the wax had been peeled away.

Everett leaned over, swiping his tongue across the heated flesh, before catching one nipple in his teeth and tugging.

Tossing her head back with a hiss, Samantha strained against the cuffs, lifting as much as she was able, pressing her nipple into his teasing mouth. "More, please…"

He was in no hurry, and no amount of her begging increased his pace. She pleaded, she twisted, shuddering in her bonds. Only when her skin began to lose its rosy glow did he slide lower, focussing his attention on the last globe of wax.

He settled close between her thighs, reaching out to slowly, slowly peel the wax shell away from her throbbing pussy. As soon as she was bared again, he leaned close, blowing softly across her incredibly sensitised flesh.

"Master!" she cried out, hips sawing against empty air, "please, Master, I need!!"

Everett grinned, laving his tongue through her soft folds, spreading his saliva and her own juices over her bared pussy and blew another soft breath. The contrast of heated skin and cool breeze sent Samantha spiralling skyward, pushing her ever closer to the edge.

"please!" she gasped, straining to get closer to him.

Watching her intently, Everett wisped his fingers over her sensitive skin, his thumb barely circling her clit.

Samantha moaned, writhing under his light caresses, each only enflaming her need more without offering enough to satisfy it. "Master, please!"
 
Everett slid the blindfold down over Samantha's eyes and she tipped her head, rubbing her cheek against his hand before he pulled away. Bound immobile as she was, gagged and blindfolded, it was the only expression of her devotion that she had left.

He patted her on the head and walked away.

Holding utterly still, she listened intently, trying to track his movements, but she lost him when he left the room. She shifted minutely, feeling the ropes tug. She scowled behind the blindfold. The ropes were intensifying the need she was already aching with, but even if she could manage moving more than a fraction of an inch, the chastity belt she was locked into would ensure that she couldn't get the friction, the satisfaction that she craved.

It was entirely unfair! Yes, it might have been her own lack of control that had gotten her caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Literally. But who was the one who'd turned her into such a desperate, needy, insatiable little slut? Who taught her to crave his cock, and then left her alone and unsatisfied? Who denied her even the tiniest taste of his cum and went to work, leaving her home alone?

Daddy, that's who!

And who was being punished for it? Sammy! Bound up tight, when he knew that would only make her even more aroused, and locked into chastity.

So unfair!

She heard footsteps return and something being set onto the nearby end table. He moved around, shifting things, then a soft click. Seconds later, a soft, cool breeze wafted across her bared flesh, in sharp contrast to the warm, wax-sensitized skin.

Shifting with a soft moan, Samantha could feel shivers running along her skin, her nipples puckering to tight, aching points as the fan oscillated, blowing cool air repeatedly across her body. Her pussy throbbed, but there was absolutely nothing she could do to alleviate it.

The doorbell rang and her heart pounded. Evie!

She heard footsteps moving away and a few moments later heard Everett's voice.

"Ahh... Evie. Come in. Good to see you..."

Samantha could feel the flush creeping over her skin, sharply contrasting the cool air blowing around her. Suddenly, she was very grateful for the blindfold and gag. She knew Evie was there, but she didn't have to face her, didn't have to speak to her. She was simply an object on display. Her pussy throbbed again, a fresh surge of wetness flooding her.

The voices drew closer and Samantha concentrated on simply breathing, slow, even breaths.

She listened carefully to their movements as they walked into the room. Someone walked over to stand close to her and she prayed it was her Master.

Everett's voice spoke again, "Would you like a seat?" and his voice was close. She started to drop her head in relief, but the sharp tug between her hair and her chastity belt cut the movement short and she quickly lifted it again.

"No thank you, Everett, dear. I can't stay long."

A strong hand smoothed over her shoulder, slipping down and idly fondling one of her breasts, and Samantha could not stop herself from arching with a soft moan, pressing into her Master's caressing hand.

"You're sure? I could get you a glass of wine?"

"I'm certain." Samantha could hear the smile in Evie's voice. "When are you brining your pet back to the dungeon, my dear? None of them can stop talking about it. The show she put on… the complete control that you had… I'm afraid you've become a bit of a legend. Attendance has skyrocketed since you disappeared. They're coming out of the woodwork hoping to catch another demonstration."

Samantha felt Everett's fingers still for a moment, then resume their pinching, twisting and flicking at her nipple. His voice showed no hint of any hesitation though. "I haven't decided yet."

Admittedly, while she wanted desperately to go back, to see more and do more, she was also incredibly nervous at the thought. That night at the dungeon was where everything had gone from so incredibly, perfectly right to so terribly, horribly wrong in a matter of moments. She'd only just gotten her Master back. What if they went back and something went wrong again? She didn't think she could bear to lose him again.

"Oh, I suppose I had better return this before I forget." Samantha heard Evie's soft chuckle and her Master's fingers released her aching breast as he stepped away.

"My thanks, she is entirely too naked without it."

Samantha blushed, shifting slightly. Silence stretched and she could almost feel both pairs of eyes on her bared skin. "Indeed, she is," Evie's quiet voice finally replied. "I knew that with the proper training, for the right Master, she could be the ideal slave."

A soft caress stroked over her hair, but Samantha could not tell whose hand it was.

"I am happy to see that I was correct. Congratulations, my dears."
 
Samantha's eyes drifted shut with a soft moan as she abandoned herself to his heated kiss. Her fingers itched to bury themselves in his hair, pull him even closer, but the ropes binding her in position did not allow her any more than the tiniest leaning forward.

Even as his mouth continued to ravish hers, one hand slid down her back to smooth lightly over the scabbing covering her healing tattoo, reminding them both of the presence of his mark on her.

Leaving her tattoo, the travelling hand moved up, pulling sharply at her hair, tilting her head back. His lips moved down to her throat, licking and nipping as his other hand attacked her breast, squeezing around her tit, twisting and tweaking at her nipples.

Samantha cried out, arching her back, unable to do anything but accept, bound as she was.

Whether he actually meant it as a demonstration or was simply doing what he wanted to do with her, she understood the lesson. This was her place. She was his to use however he chose. The chastity belt was proof that her own desires were only relevant insofar as he chose to allow them.

While she was deeply frustrated by being locked into chastity, she was also grateful to her Master for it. His taking the option away from her made it impossible for her to fail him. He took control of her orgasms and her own weakness would not be allowed to lead her into disobedience in an attempt to satisfy her own desperate desire for him.

Everett stood, stepping back a half step, locking his eyes with hers as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it onto the couch, moving his hands to his belt buckle.

Samantha's eyes flicked between his heated gazed and his hands as they revealed his erect cock, inch by slow torturous inch. She licked her lips with a hungry little whimper.

Fingers under her chin, lifting her eyes up to his, Everett grinned knowingly. "Is there something my angel needs?"

She licked her lips again, swallowing before she started to drool. "Daddy's cock… please…" she whispered.

One hand fisted into her hair, holding her immobile as the other wrapped around the base of his cock. He flicked it against her cheeks, smearing his leaking pre-cum around her lips and chin.

Samantha whimpered, tongue extended, struggling to get a lick, a tiny taste of the cock he was teasing her with, keeping it moving just out of her desperate reach. The musky scent of her Master filled her nostrils, enflaming her senses, ratcheting up her need.

"please, Daddy… I need your cock, please… just a taste?" she lifted her pleading eyes up to his, straining against the ropes binding her, against his fist holding her head just out of reach of the cock she craved. "please!"
 
Samantha shifted slightly, biting back a soft whimper. Property is meant to look pretty and be silent.

Bound as she was, there was nothing she could do about pretty. Her Master had been the one to bind her, so it was probably safe to assume he did so in a position he wanted to see. She could feel the warm, tickling trails of his semen inching over her skin, still so sensitive from the wax… could feel the occasional drip from her breasts and hair onto her widespread thighs.

The last traces still coated her tongue, the scent filling her nostrils. It fed a craving deep inside her that enflamed the desperate need throbbing at her core. Made it impossible to be still, no matter how hard she tried, and equally difficult to keep quiet. Only the gag stopped her from begging outright as she struggled to keep the pleading whimpers under her breath and quiet enough to not be heard.

Property is meant to look pretty and be silent.

She straightened, lifting her chin, pushing out her breasts, reminding herself of her purpose. She was property. She existed to obey, and to please her Master.

She writhed, rolling her hips, unable to find any relief with the chastity belt in place and her hands bound to her widespread thighs. If it pleased him to watch her driven mad by unfulfilled desire, then so be it. At least he'd shown the mercy of gagging her.

She inhaled deeply, the musk of his seed still strong as the splatters covering her dried. The cravings grew and her mouth watered. She felt the blush stealing over her cheeks as her saliva built around the cock gag, drooling down her chin, even as the humiliation of it made her nipples pucker up and her clit throb wildly.
 
Samantha shuddered, moaning loudly, "Master, no… please! I can't-…" She rolled her hips. She'd been riding the edge of orgasm for hours already! Had been on the verge of it since before he'd come home and interrupted her. She'd spent hours in bondage, heat simmering in her core.

Hours where, even blindfolded, she could feel the caress of his eyes on her, every bit as strong as a physical touch. Hours in chastity, unable to ease the ache of need building inside.

She bucked her hips, fingers and toes curling. A spanking would be as much pleasure as punishment, she knew, but to be left to sleep on the floor, so far from Daddy's arms? That was a true punishment and one she had no wish to endure!

His fingers caressed her wet folds and Samantha cried out, straining against the ropes holding her immobile but for the sawing of her hips. "Daddy! I'm too close! Please don't make me…" She clamped down on her pussy, clenching her thighs as close together as she could in her position.

Don'tcumdon'tcumdon'tcumdon'tcum-…

Behind the blindfold she squeezed her eyes tightly, fingers clenched to fists as she struggled impossibly to hold back the tide. She panted for breath and with every inhalation came the scent of his seed, drying in her hair, sticking to her flesh, pushing her closer and closer.

"please…please…please…pleasepleasepleaseplease…"

Samantha whimpered, nearly incoherent with desperate, aching arousal, completely unaware of the vision she presented bound tightly to the table. Her ass lifted high, waving an invitation in the air. Her pussy rosy and swollen, dripping with her need. Her entire body glowing with a sheen of sweat, trembling uncontrollably.

"I need to cum. Please, please Daddy, please, let your poor slave cum!"

She knew an edge of panic was beginning to fill her voice, her desperation to not disobey growing with each second that he didn't answer, stroking his fingers and the head of his cock between her sopping pussy and her tightly clenched ass.
 
Samantha shifted, murmuring softly as she snuggled into the hard chest she was resting against. She didn't have the energy to open her eyes, but she pressed a soft kiss to the skin her cheek was pressed into. "thank you, Daddy," she barely whispered.

A warm, wet hand smoothed over her body in long, gentle strokes, and while she loved the soft caresses, she mourned the loss of Daddy's scent and seed as it was gradually washed away.

She moaned as those same fingers slid between her ass cheeks, stroking over her swollen, tender hole. Not with the ache of being so forcefully fucked, but with the tormenting emptiness inside that she was left with after her Master pulled away.

"I wish…" she drew in a breath, blinking her eyes open to twist up and look into Everett's eyes, "I wish I could have your cock in me always. I wish I never had to wash your cum away." She blushed, dropping her eyes a moment before lifting them back up to his. "It's only when you're fucking me… using me… that I know I'm exactly who and where I was always meant to be."

She shifted slightly to the side, curling her fingers loosely around his soft cock, gently caressing. "I was born to be Daddy's fuck doll. To be used for Daddy's pleasure. To worship Daddy's cock." She could feel the moisture welling in her eyes and ducked her head, quickly brushing it away.

"All I need is to be yours, Daddy. Please…" she whispered, "please don't ever let me go."
 
Samantha drew a breath, then blew it out, unsure how to respond. Her mouth opened, then closed again. Her mind protested, confused.

She was naked, on her knees at her Daddy's feet, still bearing the faintest rope marks on her wrists. Her body still twinged with the beautiful ache of the hard fucking he'd just given her. She was his toy. She was his pet. She was his Sammy.

And now he asked her about work? He expected her to be the hard-nosed anchor? To be his work colleague, rather than his slave?

How was she supposed to reconcile Sammy and Samantha into the same person?

She sighed with a tiny scowl. How could she not? If they were going to have any kind of life together, there had to be more in it than just sex. No matter how fantastic the sex was! There had to be conversations and common interests… work and play.

She lifted the hot chocolate, taking a small sip, savouring the warmth and smooth sweetness.

"I don't know. It's been a while since we've met, but he's always been hard to pin down. On the other hand, I am very ready to get back to work! Being stuck on bed rest is no fun when I'm home all alone." She smiled up at him, rubbing her cheek against his knee.

"I feel so out of the loop already and it's only been one day," she chuckled. "Who do they have lined up for your next interview?"
 
Samantha snuggled into Everett's arms with a feeling of pure bliss, letting the soft pleasure suffuse her expression. He leaned in to kiss her, pressing her into the bed under him. She exhaled with a long, low moan revelling in the weight of him, the sheer muscled mass of his body covering hers.

She was his. Held locked in place by his body, as surely as if he had used ropes or chains to secure her in the bed. There would be no escape, though as the kisses and caresses gained in intensity, she knew she had no wish to be anywhere but where she was… caught and held under her Master's control.

Daring to curl her fingers around his cheek in a tender caress, she looked deeply into his eyes, pressing her cheek into the fingers that returned her touch.

"I love you Sammy."

The deep, rumbling whisper was breathed into her ear and she stilled, eyes widening. Panic filled her for a moment, a flash of what happened the last time in his apartment when she'd tried to tell him how she felt and it all fell apart so badly. Did she dare to try to say it again? Would he pull away and deny her if she did?

The feeling swelling in her chest demanded expression. She could no longer deny it… could not hold it inside.

"I love you too, Daddy." Her eyes flicked down to his chin, then determinedly back up to lock on his eyes. "So much!" She curled into his arms, tucking her head under his chin, rubbing her cheek against his chest. "You've freed me… to be the woman I never admitted I want to be. The woman I need to be. You are my Owner," she pressed a soft kiss to his throat, "my Master," and another soft kiss, "my Daddy," another soft kiss, "only you. Always. I do love you, with everything that's in me."

Samantha pressed another, longer kiss against Everett's chin, but couldn't fight the yawn that forced its way out. She felt his chuckle and giggled herself.

"I'm sorry. It's been a long day. I'm a little more exhausted than I realised," she blushed a bit, eyes drifting closed. She felt her Daddy's arms pull her close and snuggled in, asleep before she even managed a "good night."

---

Samantha blinked, turning her face. A bright ray of sunshine beat at her eyes, the first peek of morning. She smiled to see Everett had an arm thrown across his eyes, his chest rising and falling under her cheek with the slow steady rhythm of sleep.

She stretched slowly, careful not to wake him, and as she did felt a hot nudge at her hip. She licked her lips. Was she allowed to-…? She had not been given permission. She hesitated. But she had not been denied it either, had she? Her mouth watered and she swallowed, licking her lips again. Maybe just a tiny taste before he woke up?

Slowly, slowly she eased away, sliding lower under the covers, intent on her prize. The blankets blocked out most of the beaming sunlight, leaving her in her own little dimly lit universe as she eased herself down further.

The heady scent of her Master filled her little blanket cocoon and she inhaled deeply. She extended her tongue, taking a slow, teasing lick across the cock head in front of her. Daddy's musky flavour burst across her tongue and she swallowed a moan, easing her lips around his crown, seeking more.
 
Samantha stared distantly into the mirror. She'd been preoccupied since they'd gone their separate ways when they finally made it out of bed, thinking about what Everett had said about staying at her place, unless she wanted to stay with him. Or at least trying to think about it, when she wasn't constantly side-tracked with thoughts of this morning.

Her heart thumped wildly, her mouth watering and she licked her lips reflexively. Even asleep he was her Master, taking complete control. The way he tangled his fists in her hair, holding her immobile while he came down her throat… she swallowed a moan. It had her writhing and grinding against his thigh, moments away from her own climax before he pulled her up to his side.

When she closed her eyes and concentrated, she could almost taste the seed she still craved. It was an addiction that only grew more intense with every passing moment.

She curled her fingers around the lock on her collar, letting the comfort of its weight resting at the base of her throat flow over her. Calm her. Temper the craving for him. She was his.

Living arrangements. Think about living arrangements.

While she wasn't particularly attached to her Penthouse, it had been home, and had the advantages of security and privacy. She could honestly say that she would be happy to live anywhere as long as her Master was there, including staying with him in his apartment. She did want him to know that. Realistically, he would need to get a new place anyway. As an anchor now, he was poised on the verge of becoming a major celebrity himself now, and he would need the same security and privacy that she did.

But would he rather have his own place?

Or… was it too soon to suggest they move in together? Maybe get a new place they could share?

Or give it all up and run away together? Live on her grandparent's old place. She had more than enough money to retire and support them both for the rest of their lives, but was it fair to even suggest that? Somehow she doubted that her Daddy would be content to live off his pet.

Besides, he's only just beginning to realise his dream. He can't give that up. Not now.

Living together? Definitely. To be Daddy's pet, always. That, she knew she wanted with everything in her. Where they ended up? She was content to let that be his decision. There was more than just the two of them to consider, after all. She had a vague recollection of seeing a cat scamper past while she was in his apartment.

And there was his daughter.

Samantha flushed. They still knew so little-… well, let's be honest, she knew so little. Everett probably knew every detail of her life. It had been his job, after all. But she knew so little about his. She couldn't even remember his daughter's name. Didn't know anything about their custody arrangement. How would their living arrangement affect that? She couldn't do anything to interfere with the most important relationship in Everett's life!

She blindly picked up a pair of earrings, barely glancing at them as she fixed them into her ears.

She barely registered the commotion going on in the outer offices before her own office door opened. Looking up, surprised, she saw John sweep into the room, meet her eyes with a wide grin and step forward, sweeping her into his arms for a passionate kiss.

He pulled back with a short barrage of questions and then leaned in for another kiss before she could catch her breath to respond.

Shocked into momentary stillness, Samantha didn't pull free. Instead, unbidden, she couldn't help but compare. John was a complete gentleman, holding her tenderly. Even his passionate kisses were gentle, deferential. Nothing like the fire that Everett ignited inside her.

Two weeks ago, when they'd met last… it seemed like a lifetime ago now… things were so different then. She was so different. She needed to-… she pushed slightly at John's arms and he released her immediately.

At the same moment, she registered a gasp from the doorway and looked up to see Everett and Maria staring at her. She couldn't read Everett's expression at all. Was that anger? Hurt? It flashed by so fast and was gone again, an indifferent mask slipping over in its place.

John smiled over, recognising Samantha's assistant from his last visit. "Everett, isn't it? Hey, would you mind grabbing us some breakfast? We've got a lot of catching up to do." He grinned at Samantha.

She flushed, "John, Everett's not my assistant anymore. He's the new anchor on…"

"Eye on Sunday!" John nodded. "Hey, I caught a bit of that, man. That was you? Great show! Congratulations."

Bill McLean shouldered his way past Maria into the office. "John!" he grinned, arm outstretched to shake the wrestler's hand. "Great to see you again! Here to check up on our Sam?"

John grinned back, pulling the invitation from his coat pocket. "Absolutely. And to invite her to attend the St. Jude's Make a Wish Charity Gala with me. If she feels up to it, of course."

Samantha blinked, fingers clutching at her collar lock as she stared between John, Everett and Bill. "I don't think I…"

"Nonsense," Bill waved off her protest. "The network is covering it anyway, it'll be great publicity!"

Maria nudged Everett's arm with a stage whisper. "We should get going. The bus is waiting." She shot a triumphant grin in Samantha's direction.

"Yes, Everett," Bill nodded, "better not be late for your first assignment." He turned back to Samantha. "No arguments now. You need the day off to get ready? To do whatever it is you women need to do to get ready for a ball?"

Samantha hesitated, lost. How did things get so out of control so quickly? "o-kay?"
 
Without conscious thought, Samantha accepted the arm John offered, her mind spinning frantically.

She had been dating John… more or less. They'd been on dates. He'd even spent the night on a few occasions. But that was the old Samantha. The woman who was not interested in anything serious and had been using John. Using him for a convenient companion to attend events with. Using him as a buffer. Being seen on John's arm had been very useful in warding off unwanted advances.

And if she were brutally honest, using him for sex.

Using him without any real consideration of his feelings on the matter. Looking into his eyes now, it was patently obvious that he had been reading more into their relationship than she had.

So, what about this new Samantha? The Samantha that was learning to not be afraid to love. How would she feel about dating John?

Samantha closed her eyes, concentrating on the feel of the silver lock hanging at her throat, picturing the mark tattooed on her back. Calm settled over her. That was not even a consideration. She belonged to Everett, and Everett alone. For as long as he wanted her.

No. Forever. Even if he took his collar away from her one day, Samantha knew she would always and only be his. No one else's. Ever.

She stopped in her tracks, stepping back. "John-…"

His phone rang and he held up on hand with an apologetic glance as he answered.

Samantha paced, trying to come up with the words she needed.

John ended the call and turned back, running his hands up Samantha's arms with a sigh. "I've got to run, beautiful. I'll see you tonight, ok?" He pulled her in for another deep kiss and headed to the elevator.

Well, at least I've got a few hours now to figure out how to break it off with him.


Several hours later, Samantha sat staring into the mirror, still having no idea what she was going to say. Janine had done an amazing job with her hair and makeup, her updo loose and tousled with a few artfully arranged curls trailing down her nape. Her look managed somehow to be both glamorous and understated.

A quick glance at the time and she knew she had none to spare. She stood, slipping out of her robe and into the dress the studio had sent over with Janine. Clearly they were taking this publicity shot very seriously.

She turned to the check her reflection and gaped. The dress was simply stunning. A deeply purple burgundy satin sheath that flared from her knees, it had a high collar, but was sleeveless, with a deeply plunging back. It would almost look demure from the front, if not for the sheer diagonal panel that slashed across from high under her left breast across her belly and down her right hip.

She twisted in front of the mirror. Only two tiny spaghetti straps criss-crossed her back, the plunging swag of fabric bared the long, flawless line of her spine, barely covering her new tattoo. The sheer panel showed off her ribs and navel, its low cut down her hip making clear she could not be wearing any underwear with this dress.

She wished she could be wearing this for Everett. Wished she could see the look in his eyes when he saw it.

She lifted her hand, smoothing it over her chain and lock, hidden under the high collar of her dress. No one could see it, but the weight of it was her comfort. Her security.

"Madam," Jarvis interrupted her reverie. "This package has just arrived for you, and your limo is waiting."

Samantha glanced at the package. Plain brown wrapping, no apparent return address. "Thank you, Jarvis. Please put it on my desk. It will have to wait. Cinderella is off to the ball." She winked.

Jarvis sniffed. "I hope Madam does not mean to imply that I am her fairy godmother."

"Never!" Samantha giggled. "Good night, Jarvis."

"Good evening, ma'am."

--

Maria sat slumped on the bus, glaring at the closed door to the back bedroom. Everett had disappeared back there again, as soon as they came back from the diner and hadn't come out since. So far this trip had been a total bust in terms of gaining his attention. She had hoped that getting him away from the Ice Bitch might help, but nothing.

Eugene had made it clear he'd be happy to distract her, but she had her eye set on bigger fish.

To top it off, the guys insisted on turning on the network's coverage of the Charity Ball! Couldn't they be normal guys and turn on a game or something?

The door to the back bedroom opened and Everett stepped out, rubbing his belly. "We got any antacid's in here?"

Maria jumped up, "I'm sure I can find something somewhere."

A loud wolf whistle distracted her, and all eyes turned toward Neil and Henry. "Take a look at that! Shit, that Samantha Noelle is a fuckin' hot one!"

Scowling, Maria turned to peer around the men crowding the TV screen.

"Didn't you used to work for her, Johnson?"

There was no answer and Maria turned to see Everett staring, eyes locked on the flickering image of Samantha Noelle, smiling and laughing, tucked against John Cena's side.

--

This is work, Samantha reminded herself sharply, you're a professional. Show the audience what a good time you're having.

She sighed, wishing she could be anywhere else. Preferably wherever Everett was.

John's arm slid around her waist, his hand settling on her bare back. She tensed, but just barely managed not to pull away. She closed her eyes for an instant, imagining it was Everett's arm curling around her. His hand would skim the deep fall of the back of her gown, fingers teasing along the hidden mark, his mark, that only the two of them knew was there. A tiny reminder of her place. A tease for what would happen after the ball…

She smiled, leaning into the arm surrounding her, forgetting for a moment that it was not her Master at her side.
 
Samantha's right hand fluttered up to her throat, pressing against the hidden chain and lock. Master! Her eyes darted around the room, desperately searching for the one face that was not there. Needing him to appear on this stage, appear and claim her. Save her from having to answer this impossible question.

Camera flashes exploded incessantly, all eyes were on the three of them.

Samantha looked to John, adoration and hope shining in his eyes.

She turned to Carolina, positively bouncing in her excitement to be a part of her hero's big moment.

How could she deny either of them? How could she humiliate John and break this little girl's heart in front of an audience of millions?

Everett would understand. Wouldn't he? He cared about people. He was the one who opened her eyes. He would see that in this moment she just couldn't shatter this little girl. Not here. Not tonight.

"Yes." The whisper barely sounded in the silence of the room, but the high-pitched squeal that let loose from Carolina's throat clued in the audience waiting breathlessly for Samantha's answer. Thunderous applause and whistles drowned out everything else as John lifted the ring and slowly slid it onto Samantha's finger before standing and enveloping her in a tight hug, lifting her and spinning her in a swirling circle as Carolina clapped and giggled.

Samantha leaned close, pressing her lips to John's ear to be heard over the crowd. "Give Carolina a spin, too. She deserves it."

Stepping back as John set her down, she smiled as peals of excited giggles followed John lifting Carolina and spinning her around, thanking her for all her help. Samantha looked down at the stunning ring sparkling on her left hand, a little shell-shocked.

As they stepped down, handing the stage back over to the Make-A-Wish festivities several camera crews followed.

"Ms. Noelle, were you surprised?"

"Mr. Cena, you looked nervous. You didn't really have any doubts, did you?"

"Ms. Noelle, can we see the ring?"

Bombarded by questions, Samantha felt John curl his arm around her waist and she put on a smile for the camera, holding out her left hand to show off the sparkling masterpiece on her finger. "Now please," she nodded to the cameras, "we appreciate the excitement and the well wishes, but John and I don't want to distract anyone from the important work being done here tonight, alright? Thank you."

Waiting a moment for the cameras to focus back on the stage, Samantha turned to head back to their table, immediately bumping into Bill McLean and his wife.

"Congratulations, Sam. John." Bill swept her into a hug.

"I-… thank you, Bill." Samantha's eyes darted around the room, even though she knew she would not see the one face she longed to.

Helen leaned over, rubbing a hand up and down Samantha's arm, a tiny frown creasing her brow. "Are you alright, dear?"

"She's fine, she's fine," Bill grinned. "Just a little surprised. That was the whole idea, hey John?"

Samantha nodded absently, covering Helen's fingers with her own. "He's right. I'm fine."

Helen grinned. "Well, then, let me see this ring!"

--

Maria's attention was split. Keeping one eye on the spectacle on the TV, while watching Everett's reaction closely. This could be her chance to bring his attention around to her. She despised Noelle. The Ice Bitch had cost her at least one position in the network that she was aware of… who knows how many more. But if playing the sweet and sympathetic assistant paved her way into Everett's good graces, she could do that. Whatever it took.

She watched Cena spin Noelle around, saw her press her lips against his ear. Judging by the soft gasp from next to her, she'd guess Everett saw it, too.

"Is your stomach still bothering you, sir?" she murmured, daring to stroke her hand slowly up and down his back. "Let me go find those antacids for you."

She stood to head to the bathroom at the back of the bus when she heard Eugene's voice.

"Holy shit, take a look at that rock!"

Maria glanced back and felt a curl of envy in her belly. She could work for a decade and not be able to afford a ring like that! And that bitch Noelle could probably buy it for herself a dozen times over.

She glanced at Everett, saw him staring at the ring filling the TV screen.

"A woman would have to be insane to turn down a rock like that!" She let wistful envy fill her voice, aiming it at Everett. He deserved a better woman than that Ice Bitch. She just needed to show him that a better woman was right beside him for the taking. Then he'd forget all about Samantha Noelle.
 
"Mr. Cena," a young woman hesitantly taped John on the shoulder, interrupting their dance, "I'm sorry, but it's almost time for the second round of presentations. The Ferdinand trailer is cued up and ready to roll and the books and Ferdinand toys are all here for the donation to St. Jude's. I just need you to come with me."

John hesitated a moment, looking at Samantha.

She nodded, smiling. "Go. I need to visit the powder room anyway." It was not entirely a lie. She needed an escape, and a quiet moment in the privacy of the washroom would serve as well as any.

She needed to catch her breath. To think. More than anything else she needed to hear her Master's voice. To know that he understood that she'd been trapped in that moment, but she would only ever be his. She lifted her hand to press against the hidden lock at her throat, its reassuring weight soothing her.

Eyes caught on the sparkling ring on her finger, John smiled, pressing a quick kiss against her fingers. "I won't be long."

Samantha smiled absently, thoughts already turning to Everett. Darting quickly in and out among the crowd, oblivious to those calling her name, offering congratulations, she pushed through the lobby doors, down a long darkened hallway, to the furthest powder room she could find, grateful to find it empty.

Settling in one of the chairs lining the far wall of mirrors, her fingers were flying almost before she sat down, immediately pulling up Everett's number, firing off a short text. "BY NOW YOU'VE SEEN OR HEARD. I CAN EXPLAIN."

She sighed. This would be so much easier to say, but she couldn't wait to see him in person, and texting would be more private than speaking if anyone suddenly came in. Before she could even decide how to explain phone chimed for an incoming text.

"NOTHING TO EXPLAIN. HE CAN GIVE YOU MORE THAN I CAN. CONGRATS. HOPE YOU'LL BE VERY HAPPY TOGETHER."

Samantha could only stare, the phone trembling in her fingers, the tightness in her chest squeezing the breath from her body. How could he…? Didn't he…? Her fingers hit the call button of their own accord, all thoughts of privacy gone.

"Hello?"

Maria's voice answering Everett's phone stopped Samantha's desperate speech in its tracks.

"Hello? Ms. Noelle?"

"W-where's Everett?"

"He just stepped into the shower." Was that satisfaction in Maria's voice? What was she doing in his room? Painful possibilities filled Samantha's mind, shot daggers into her heart.

"We were watching the Gala. Congratulations, by the way. You're a lucky woman, to snag such a good man." If she didn't know Maria better, Samantha might have believed she was sincere. "Did you want me to give Mr. Johnson a message for you? I'm sure he'll be out soon."

"n-no. No, it wasn't important. Thank you." She disconnected the call before she had to listen to anything more that Maria had to say, dropping her phone to the counter and burying her face in her hands with a sob.

--

Maria smiled as the call abruptly disconnected. Hesitating only a moment, she quickly scrolled through the logs, erasing the record of the call and text from Samantha's number before carefully replacing the phone on the bedside table.

By the time Everett returned, panting and sweaty from his long run, she was ready.

"Mr. Johnson. Good evening," she smiled. "I've finished your unpacking for you and set up the computer and video feed so we can go through the dailies from this afternoon when you're ready."

Everett looked around, the suspicion fading from his eyes just a bit.

Maria bit back a smile. Perfect. "I'm guessing you'd like to shower, so I'll just slip into my room and perhaps order us something to eat? Pizza, maybe? I could call Neil to join us as well. We could discuss tomorrow's shots."

Now Everett was looking more surprised than suspicious. "OK."

--

Samantha heard the door to the powder room open and sat up quickly, grabbing a tissue from the box on the counter and dabbing at her eyes.

"Samantha?" Helen McLean peeked around the door. Seeing her, she stepped in, quickly closing the door behind her. "Are you all right, dear? Oh. I can see that you're not." Concern filled her features. "Where's that young man of yours?"

"Everett's on a Dining With Friends shoot…"

Helen's eyebrow lifted. "He's where?"

Samantha blinked, realizing what she just said. "I mean… John… John went to do the Ferdinand presentation to St. Jude's."

Helen sat down on the chair next to Samantha's, picking up her hand and patting it softly. "In all the years we've been married, I've never told Bill this… but … I was seeing someone else when Bill proposed to me."

Samantha stared, at a loss for words.

"I've never regretted my choice," Helen continued. "You just need to make sure you're following your heart. And don't wait too long to decide, dear. Better a broken engagement than a broken heart."

Helen patted her hand again. "Although, I'm afraid no matter which way you decide, someone is going to end up with a broken heart."

Samantha nodded, wiping again at her tears before it ruined her mascara. She was very much afraid that it was already too late, and the broken heart would be her own.
 
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