Pleasure doing Bussiness (Whip 3) ✔️ SAMPLE

Chapter 1

MICHAEL

Autumn, 1988

"Look! Look what I found, Ronnie!" I exclaim loudly and stick my hand out for the older boy to see while I use the other one to motion for him to hurry up.

Ronnie smiles from his place down on the ground near the river bend where we usually come to spend our free time and stands up, coming closer to see what I want to show him.

"It's so pretty, right?" I say as he inspects the small, pinkish-grey pebble, its sides smooth and shiny in the harsh summer sun.

Ronnie nods and quickly pockets it, sending me his usual wink that always makes me giddy and makes my stomach do something funny.

He then returns to his spot by the river while I continue to search for more pebbles, although my eyes keep going back to Ronnie.

The older boy head is pressed against the tree root, his eyes closed and his chin up, basking in the sunshine after days of constant rain and I think that he looks just like that pinkish-grey rock that is now hidden inside of his pocket; pretty and unique.

Ronnie's skin is dark, much darker than mine, the color of chocolate that I'm allowed to eat only when I'm especially good and finished with all of my chores and assigned Bible readings on time, which is not as often as my mother would like.

His eyes are the color of the sky and his hair dark and curly and longer than mine, which is awesome and I wish that mother would allow me to grow mine that long, instead of the short, military cut I'm forced to wear, but every time I ask, she refuses to even think about it.

"You are not a girl!" she would say, "Only girls have long hair, Michael!"

Which I think is stupid since Ronnie has long hair and he's anything but a girl, not that I've ever dared to tell her that because she would whoop me in a second.

Ronnie is also older than me, almost a grown-up, but he doesn't act as the other grown-ups do. He doesn't find me boring or annoying and he always takes me to our secret spot by the river so we can pick up the most beautiful rocks to add to my collection.

I'm not sure why no one can know about the spot, but I promised Ronnie that I would keep his secret which has made him smile in a way that only seems reserved for the people he really likes, so I made a promise to myself that I would never tell a soul if it would make Ronnie keep smiling that way at me.

Soon, the weather starts to change, the sun hiding behind big, grey clouds, and Ronnie states that it's time for us to go back home.

I nod sadly, not looking forward to going back just yet, but I know that we will both end up in trouble if we get caught up in the rain, so I stand up and clean the dirt from my knees, before joining Ronnie on our way back home.

"We'll come back tomorrow, I promise." Ronnie says and takes my hand in his, making the funny feeling in my stomach return as I smile, feeling much better than just a moment before.

∞∞∞

Present

I open my eyes and blink a few times, the oppressive darkness of the room only broken up by the moonlight drifting through the window, a drastic change from the eternal sunshine in the dream that's already drifting away.

I sigh and sit up, letting my feet fall to the cold floor in an attempt to ground myself, as I clutch my head with my hands as if that will prevent me from forgetting.

"Bad dream?" comes a question from the bed, spoken in a soft purr, before cold, thin hands wrap around my midsection and a warm mouth starts trailing soft kisses down my back.

That is the million-dollar question, isn't it?

The one I can never find an answer to, even after all these years and thousands of dollars wasted on therapy.

The dreams come every night for as long as I can remember, most of them leaving me a shaking and shivering mess for a reason I can't fathom, but it's the ones like tonight that are the worst.

Because even though I can not remember what exactly I've dreamed about, I still remember the feeling of being loved and cherished, and to wake up to a dark room, in a bed alone or with one in a long line of nameless women is devastating.

"I'll drive you home." I eventually say, because as much as I don't want to be alone again, the feeling of her mouth on me that has excited me just a few hours before is now plain wrong and I need it to stop. I need everything to just stop for a second, so I can relax and remember.

I need to remember.

"Oh. Okay." she says and leaves the bed, starting to collect her clothes before putting them on in jerky movements that scream how much she disagrees with my decision. Not that she would tell me so, she knows better than to go against a Dom, but her actions speak louder than any words and I know that I should feel guilty, and I do, but I still stay silent and join her in dressing.

She probably thought that this was going to last more than one night, after all, that was what they all did.

I know that I'm considered a catch in the club, even though I never stay with one Sub for more than a month but it doesn't matter; they still come and I still take them.

It's wrong, they are all wrong, and as much as I've tried to make it work, tried to feel something other than that hollow feeling that fills me as soon as the high of orgasm dissipates, it never works.

∞∞∞

"You look like shit." Jack says as soon as I enter the office, making me roll my eyes.

"I know." I say before pushing down Jack's legs that are currently perched up top of my desk, making my best friend pout, and then walk to my chair on the other side of the table.

"What do you want? Misha is not working today."

Jack snorts at that and sticks his tongue out.

And they call me the childish one, I think.

"I know that. He is out with Dean and his brother and apparently, I am not allowed to go with them. Something about girl's night out, which is complete bullshit if you ask me since they are all men."

"So, you were bored and decided to pester me." I say and the asshole just smirks, not even trying to come up with an excuse.

"Yup."

"Oh, and Ash came in a few minutes ago with a letter for you. I put it on your desk."

At the words, my face pales, and I have to consciously try to prevent my hands from shaking as I reach for the already familiar pink envelope lying inconspicuously at the right corner of my desk.

I don't even bother opening it, already aware of the mindless spiel that will greet me, so I just stick it in the pocket of my leather jacket and decide to not think about it just yet.

"Who's it from?" Jack asks while eyeing me up, one of his bushy brows raised slightly.

"None of your business."

"Okay, mister 'I am too important'. Since you're obviously in PMS, and I don't have even the slightest desire to deal with that, I am going to go and do anything else."

"Oh, I almost forgot!" he says just before he reaches the door, coming back to my desk.

"Here is the number of that guy I told you about. He is an old friend from the army and does private security nowadays so give him a call if you still need it."

I take the card, my eyes falling on the jacket where the dreaded letter is hidden for just a second, before turning to the piece of plastic to see what's written on it.

Krüger Private Security

Niklas Krüger, Owner