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  No Easy Way Out

  Tara Tennyson

  When Ruthanne meets Daniel, he opens her eyes to a new world of power games—and he’s always the boss. A blowjob in her office? Making love in a limo? All in a day’s work.

  But what Ruthanne doesn’t realize is that Daniel’s desires include more than she can handle—multiple partners, sexual sadism and enormous dildos are on his wish list. She knows she has to finish things before he makes her do something she will really regret. But her life is so entangled with his that there’s no easy way to extricate herself.

  Then she meets Ed, whose surveillance equipment seems to provide an answer. But to be free of Daniel, she has to submit to the worst humiliation yet. Will it prove to be worth it?

  Inside Scoop: Ruthanne’s sexual journey contains many darker BDSM elements. Some of the situations and scenes may be disturbing to some readers. It is not for the faint of heart.

  An Exotika® contemporary BDSM erotica story from Ellora’s Cave

  No Easy Way Out

  Tara Tennyson

  Chapter One

  How had she gotten mixed up in this?

  Smack. The paddle came down on her behind and she flinched and cried out.

  “Does it hurt?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “How many more?”

  “Just until you’re nice and pink.” Smack. He brought it down hard again, sending shock waves through her flesh.

  She closed her eyes tight, trying to block out the sharp, stinging pain.

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  “Yes. Please.”

  He rubbed between her legs and she moaned.

  “You’re so wet. I don’t think you do want me to stop, do you?”

  She shook her head. “No, yes. I don’t know.”

  He touched her again between her legs and she pushed against his hand, wanting him to touch her more, harder, to make her come finally.

  “Do you want me to stop?“

  “No,” she admitted.

  “Do you want me to make you come?”

  “Yes.”

  Smack. He hit her hard again, the paddle coming down across her buttocks.

  She wondered how much of the redness on her buttocks would show on the film and whether Daniel would keep doing it if he knew he was being filmed.

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, please,” she replied.

  “That’s better.”

  * * * * *

  This wasn’t what she had imagined that day when Daniel had come into the office.

  He’d demanded to see Ian, the department head, and said, “I want someone new, someone interesting. Call them all in. Let me have a look at them.”

  And Ian had done so. Every single member of the team, all eleven of them, had crowded into Ian’s office while Daniel leaned against the desk looking coolly at them.

  Ian outlined Daniel’s business interests and his PR requirements, emphasizing what an important client Daniel was. By important Ruthanne knew he meant rich. And you could tell he was rich just from looking at him—a suit that fit so well it had to be made-to-measure, leather shoes, gold tiepin, heavy watch, slightly gray hair but a face unlined and lightly tanned. He was rich, ridiculously successful and good-looking and he knew it.

  Daniel waited for Ian to finish, then started firing questions at people. “What was your college major?” he asked Dermott.

  “What use is that to me?” he snapped when Dermott told him.

  Dermott blushed and stumbled, trying to justify why a science major might come in useful in PR.

  “What’s the most original thing you’ve ever done?” he asked Katie.

  She described a PR stunt involving balloons with messages on them. It was original and fun and Ruthanne expected Daniel to be impressed.

  “Did it work?” he asked.

  Katie described some of the outcomes, the publicity the company had gotten.

  “Come on,” he said, “Don’t fudge the issue. Give me the bottom line. How much more money did they make as a result of employing you to do their PR?”

  Katie hesitated before she told him. It was a small sum but they were a small company and they had been pleased.

  “Peanuts,” he said abruptly. “If I want those I’ll steal them from the monkeys at the zoo.”

  Ruthanne was starting to dislike him intensely. And Ian was just standing there, letting him cut them down one by one.

  “And you,” he turned to Daphne, who was by anyone’s standards a bit kooky- looking. “If that’s your idea of how to present yourself I wouldn’t consider letting you loose on something that mattered.”

  Daphne blushed bright red and stared down at her admittedly rather odd-looking shoes.

  He turned back to Ian. “Is this it?” he said. “Is this all you can offer?”

  “I am happy to carry on leading on this myself,” said Ian. “I can put together a small team on this; make sure they’re the best of the best.” He smiled confidently but Ruthanne could tell he was worried by the way this was going.

  “No,” snapped Daniel. “You’re getting stale. And I want some new ideas. And if I can’t get them here I’ll go elsewhere.”

  “You.” Daniel stared at Ruthanne and she felt instantly on edge. “Do you have any skills at all that might be useful?”

  She stared back at him and then described her background in marketing, her use of social media analytics and her approach. Her anger made her clearheaded and cold. She didn’t really care if he was impressed or not.

  When she had finished the room was silent. Everyone was waiting for his judgment.

  He just sighed and turned to someone else. “What about you? How would you tackle this?” He laid out a complex problem liable to generate negative publicity across a wide client base.

  Ruthanne wasn’t listening. She was too angry that he hadn’t even had the decency to say anything. Had he even listened as she’d spoken?

  Then Ian was ushering them all out of the room. Ten minutes later Daniel left.

  Ian sent round an email thanking them all for coming to the meeting at such short notice and letting them know that Daniel would be making a decision very soon. He also warned them to be prepared for another scenario like that in the future. “In these tough economic times,” he wrote, “companies are more demanding and each of you should be prepared to face situations like that at any time.”

  “Thanks, Ian,” Ruthanne muttered to herself as she read it. “Very supportive.” She deleted the email, getting back to her work.

  Then Katie came over. “I’ve just been doing a little research on our visitor,” she said. “He is seriously rich. And he was hot.” She giggled. “I hope he picks me. I wish I hadn’t said that stupid stuff about the balloons.”

  “At least he answered you,” said Ruthanne. “And do you really think he’s hot?”

  “Yes,” said Katie. “And he’s rich, really rich. That makes him extra-hot.” She laughed, her blonde curls bouncing around her face.

  He’ll pick her, thought Ruthanne. She’s the prettiest in the office and she has great ideas. I’m just efficient and efficiency doesn’t stand out from the crowd. “He’s bound to choose you,” said Ruthanne.

  “Do you think so?” said Katie. “I hope so. I could do with a rich, handsome client.”

  Ruthanne felt a bit cross that Katie didn’t return the compliment and insist that Daniel would choose her, Ruthanne, even though they both knew he wouldn’t. Katie could have at least pretended that he might have been impressed by Ruthanne’s approach.

  “We won’t see him again,” said Ruthanne. “He’ll be off to another firm, making them feel like idiots until he finds someone who says something he likes or someone really attractive.” Ruthanne wondere
d if Katie would notice that she’d just been insulted but she didn’t. She never did. She was already talking again.

  “Ian will be mad if he leaves. He brings in over half our departmental revenue. I just hope no one loses their job.” They both looked across at Daphne’s desk, sure she’d be the first to go.

  “Oh well,” said Katie. “I’d better get back to making peanuts.”

  Chapter Two

  Ruthanne left work by herself. Katie had gone early, wanting to get ready for a date. “With a waiter,” she’d moaned to Ruthanne. “He’s really cute but a waiter! He doesn’t make any money. Why do I only ever date losers?”

  “How cute is he?” asked Ruthanne.

  “Oh, to die for. I mean he’s gorgeous.” And she’d gone on for ages about his big brown eyes, the way his hair curled over the back of his collar.

  “He sounds more like a puppy,” said Ruthanne. “Why don’t you just visit the dog shelter?”

  Katie laughed. “I could have a waiter and a puppy.”

  “Two little waifs and strays to support,” said Ruthanne.

  “Yeah.” Katie grinned. “Still he’ll do for now until a rich little puppy comes along anyway.”

  “Give him a kiss for me,” called Ruthanne as Katie left.

  “I will,” she shouted back. “And more.”

  Ruthanne carried on working. She didn’t have much to rush home for at the moment. Her last relationship had fizzled out weeks ago and she wasn’t really enjoying being single again, not when all her friends were dating.

  Perhaps she should call her ex. They could have make-up sex. Ruthanne considered it but no, it wasn’t worth it. She didn’t really want to see him again and the sex had never been that good anyway—certainly not good enough to risk him thinking it was all back on again. Before she knew it, he’d have moved half his stuff in again. They’d be staying in almost every night, he’d ramble on about work or golf. She’d pretend to listen but keep one eye on the TV. Then they’d go to bed and have tedious sex and she’d wonder if it was all worth it.

  She buried her head in her hands. No, she’d rather be single and lonely forever than give in and settle down with someone just because they were there.

  The phone rang. She picked it up automatically, although she could have left it go to voicemail given that it was well after six p.m.. “Ruthanne Ellis, how can I help you?”

  “I don’t know,” replied the voice. “But I have one or two ideas.”

  “Who is this?” she asked, the hairs prickling on the back of her neck.

  “Surely you know,” said the voice, sounding educated, cultured, slightly superior. “I’m waiting outside for you. I want to take you for dinner so we can discuss the PR work you’ll be doing for my company. We’ll swing by Reynard’s. I’m sure they will be able to fit us in. We’ll be leaving in ten minutes. Be downstairs by then. I do hate it when people are late.” And the phone went dead.

  Ruthanne stared at the phone. Who was that? Could it have been him? She quickly googled Reynard’s. Yes, as she thought—a highly expensive, utterly exclusive restaurant. You needed reservations months, years even in advance. But he thought they would swing by and get a table? It had to be Daniel Rolleston. Her stomach turned over. Had he picked her? If she had this contract it would be the kick-start her career needed. It would push her up into the big leagues.

  Her heart was beating too fast. Ten minutes! She raced to the ladies and checked her makeup, applying a little more of everything. This was hopeless. She needed hours days!—to get ready to go to Reynard’s. And she was wearing a business suit. But at least her stockings weren’t run and she had decent shoes on. She brushed her teeth quickly, then put another layer of lipstick on.

  Ten minutes! She ran to the lifts and pressed all the buttons, then stared at them, willing a lift to appear. Finally it did. Had she even closed her workstation down? Never mind. Ian would understand if this really was Daniel.

  She breathed deeply as the lift descended, trying to slow down her pulse, wanting to look calm and collected. She stepped out and walked slowly to the front of the building.

  A man in a uniform was waiting. “Miss Ellis?” He bowed slightly.

  “Er, yes.”

  “If you would care to follow me the car is waiting.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” She then wondered if you should thank servants. How would she know?

  She followed him out to where a big shiny car waited. What was it? Not a limousine, something that looked older, more English. A Rolls-Royce maybe? The uniformed man held the door open and she got in. It was big inside and she looked around, trying to stop her mouth from falling open.

  Daniel was sitting there smiling, a glass of what looked like whiskey in his hand.

  “So glad you could make it. I don’t think I have formally introduced myself. Daniel Rolleston, CEO and owner of Rolleston Industries.”

  She smiled and held out her hand. “Ruthanne Ellis.”

  “I know.” He shook her hand. “So a bite to eat and we’ll talk business?”

  “Of course.” She wished she’d spent the afternoon familiarizing herself with his company and his business interests like Katie had.

  “So. Does this mean…” How could she ask him if she’d gotten the job?

  “Does this mean?” he repeated, smiling.

  “That you will be staying with our company?”

  “It might mean that. It might not. It all depends. On you. On tonight.”

  No pressure then.

  “You look tense. Are you tense, Ruthanne?”

  “No, no,” she lied.

  “You don’t have to worry. I was a bit of a beast this afternoon, wasn’t I? But I promise I won’t be like that tonight. I’ll behave myself. I don’t bite. Well, not very hard.” He laughed.

  Ruthanne laughed with him but she didn’t believe a word of it.

  “Drink?” he offered.

  She shook her head. “Thank you but no.”

  “You do drink?” he asked.

  “Yes but I need to keep a clear head.”

  “Not tonight. We won’t talk too much business. I just want to find out if we can get along. After all if you are managing the PR for my company we’ll have to spend a lot of time together. I don’t want to have to spend my time with someone dull.”

  “Okay,” she agreed. “Just a small white wine.”

  They arrived at Reynard’s. Ruthanne kept her face blank when really she wanted to jump up and down and shriek “I’m at Reynard’s” and then point at all the famous faces she could see and run up and ask if she could have her photo taken with them. But she didn’t. She stayed calm, storing it all up to tell Katie. In fact she might disappear to the ladies’ in a minute and text Katie.

  Of course there was a table for Mr. Rolleston. The waiters ushered them in.

  She sat down and stared blankly at the menu. French really wasn’t her strong point.

  “What do you fancy?” asked Daniel.

  She blushed slightly and admitted that she didn’t really know what half the things were.

  “Don’t worry. I think I know what you’ll like.” He ordered for her.

  He was charming and sweet and nice, quite a different person from the man who had grilled her that afternoon. Gradually she relaxed. He seemed to think she was charming and funny too, encouraging her to talk, to tell him about her family, her college days, her hometown, anything except work really. But all the time she was waiting for him to turn to her and throw a killer question out and watch her squirm as she failed to answer it.

  The food was delicious. Ruthanne wasn’t sure what she was eating and she didn’t like to ask but it was heavenly. If she hadn’t been here she’d be at home on her own eating whatever was left in the fridge or sending out for a pizza. But here she was, sipping ridiculously expensive wine, eating food that looked like a work of art on the plate, being charmed by a rich, handsome man.

  At the next table sat someone she’d seen reading the news o
n her favorite breakfast-time channel. There was a woman with him who she recognized from a soap she didn’t like to tell anyone she watched. This was the life she’d dreamed of when she moved to the city after college—not living in a damp apartment eating pizza and getting drunk on cheap wine with her girlfriends.

  Then the meal was over. They’d had coffee and some delicious little chocolates and he was driving her home. He leaned back and looked at her. “So, Ruthanne,” he said, “Do you think we can work together?” He was looking at her, searching her face.

  “Yes,” she smiled. “Of course.”

  “I can be difficult. Demanding even.”

  “You’re the client.” She was still smiling. “That’s your right.”

  “Yes. It is, isn’t it? But I need to know that you’ll be…” He paused. “Shall we say amenable to my demands?”

  She froze. What was he asking her? “Yes,” she said slowly. What else can I say?

  “Good.” He laughed, breaking the tension. “I’ll try not to be too unreasonable.”

  She laughed too then. She had read too much into it. He was just being charming again.

  She got home feeling delighted. She had been to Reynard’s, she had secured a hugely important client—probably saving a few of her team’s jobs at the same time—and she had had a really lovely evening with a really lovely man. And Katie was right. He was hot. And she was going to be seeing him again, a lot. Perhaps this was the start of something really good.

  She phoned Katie as soon as she got home. “Are you busy?” she asked.

  “Intermission.” Katie laughed. “I’ve sent him out to get us some food. We’ve worked up quite an appetite so far.”

  “So it’s going well then? For a first date?” She couldn’t resist reminding Katie.

  “I know, I know,” said Katie. “I shouldn’t do this on a first date. But he is just irresistible. He kissed me and that was it. I had to bring him home straight away, get his clothes off and get to it.”

  Ruthanne started laughing. This was typical Katie. She could never play the waiting game. “I hope he appreciates it.”