Author's Note: This chapter contains some Mature content

Riley was waiting for him in the car when he finished signing autographs and posing for pictures outside the stage door at eleven that night. He'd showered and changed back into his suit, this time adding the tie that Riley had given him after their trip to St. Barts.

Although Ashe would have preferred Riley to stay at home, he understood her desire to accompany him. Catriona hadn't just attacked him. She'd attacked Riley too. Because of that, she needed to be there.

"Shouldn't we do this together?"

"Can't I at least sneak a look at the dress?" asked Ashe as he settled into his seat. "I can hear it." He could smell it, too.

"That's because it's made of latex," said Riley, blushing. "No, you may not."

Ashe arched an eyebrow. "Do you mean to tell me that you're denying Sir a look at your dress?"

She bit her lip, grinning. "Yes."

He glared playfully at her, one eyebrow raised. "Shall I punish you later for your disobedience?"

"What's the big deal? It's just latex."

"True, but it's on you, petal. To me, that's a big deal," said Ashe. "I hope Vivian included lube."

She giggled. Ashe had sent her to a private sex shop in the Village to help her find what she needed for the evening. "Thank goodness she told me what it was for, or I'd have thought she was assuming too much about us when she suggested lube."

"You need it to get the dress on and off," murmured Ashe, reaching toward her. She slapped his hand away.

"I said no, Sir Ashe," she said with mock severity.

Ashe grabbed her wrist, and she gasped. This time he was serious. "Why don't you wait for me at home? Dave will drive you back."

"We talked about this already, remember? We're in it together."

She was determined, he realized, but did Riley really understand what she was getting involved in?

"Come here," he said, pulling her gently toward him as he leaned back against the seat. "Sit on my lap."

"No," Riley protested. "I don't want you to see what I'm wearing."

Ashe fixed her with a stern gaze until Riley pouted and moved toward him, straddling his thighs. Ashe slid his arms inside her coat and around her waist. She was wearing a pink latex dress with a high collar and a keyhole opening which emphasized her cleavage. It hugged her waist before flaring at the hips, the hem barely clearing her upper thighs.

"I'll definitely be tearing this off you, Riley," he murmured, pushing in a stray lock of hair that had escaped her high ponytail.

"I was hoping you would," she said, kissing him softly on the lips before wiping the traces of lipstick from his mouth. "But not before you set that woman straight."

"You'll be seeing a different man at that party, Riley," he murmured. "Do you understand that? This isn't like any event you've ever been to. You'll see things you've never seen before. Some may appear cruel to you, even if they're all done with consent."

"I can handle it. Will there be cameras?"

"Not as far as I know. There shouldn't be," Ashe replied. "Everyone who attends knows that their privacy is protected at such parties, that's why they use different names—"

"You didn't on your contract," Riley pointed out.

"That was because the contract was private. You're right, though. I still used my name during those parties, because I was young and made decisions with my prick rather than my head," he replied, watching her face register shock when she heard him use such a word outside of the bedroom.

"How do you expect to reason with her at a party like this? She unsettles you, Ashe. I hate to admit it, but she does."

"What do you expect me to do, Riley? Let her continue doing what she's doing—dragging out your past, paying Sid for more information about you? Like you said, what if she puts two and two together about Paige and Gareth and the triplets? I suppose they can take care of themselves, but you are my first concern. She has no reason to hurt you, but she's doing it. Much as I hate being placed on the defensive with Catriona, I can't just stand around and do nothing. What she's doing has to stop, and it's going to stop tonight."

She didn't speak for a few moments. "You're just there to talk to her, right?"

"Of course. Catriona crossed the line when she sent you that corset, and especially the collar," said Ashe, his thumb stroking Riley's cheek absently as he spoke. "If we go through with this, then you must do exactly as I say without any objection. Do you understand me?"

She nodded.

"Say it," Ashe said firmly. "Tell me you will do as I say."

"I'll do as you say," Riley whispered.

"Then you should let Dave drive you home," he said softly, running his fingers through her ponytail.

Riley frowned. "No. I want Catriona out of our lives as much as you do, which means I have every right to be here with you. If you don't want me here, is it because you still have feelings for her?"

"The only woman I have feelings for is you," he said. "I wouldn't go through this farce with Catriona if I didn't love you more than life itself. I'm tired of her trying to hurt you, and I know I've hurt you too by not telling you about her before."

Ashe pulled her face toward him and kissed her, not caring if he smeared her lipstick. She should really sit back on the seat again and buckle her seatbelt, but he wanted to hold her for as long as he could. Why did he feel so vulnerable?

"What's the worst thing that could happen?" asked Riley with a reassuring smile as she wiped her lipstick off his mouth one more time.

Everything, Ashe almost answered, though he smiled and nodded, inhaling the scent of her skin one more time before releasing her.

* * *

It was eleven-thirty when they arrived at the Upper East Side townhouse, Ashe wearing a wool coat over his suit with a scarf wrapped around his neck to protect his throat. This was the last place he wanted to be, standing out in the cold when he could be warm at home in front of a roaring fire with Riley by his side. Maybe they'd be dressed in comfortable pajamas, reading a book on the couch with her head on his lap—she with one of her mother's books of poetry and he with the latest literary bestseller, or a screenplay. Miss Bailey would be on top of her cat tree, watching them with supreme indifference.

Ashe felt he had no choice. What Catriona was doing had to stop. He just wished that Riley wasn't with him.

Dave opened the passenger door, and Riley stepped out. Ashe thanked him, saying, "We'll see you tomorrow."

Dave hesitated for a moment, glancing at the brownstone in front of them where two men stood outside the front door, warming their gloved hands. Then the driver nodded and wished them goodnight before driving away.

As he walked up the steps Ashe found himself squeezing Riley's hand, then he let go as if remembering where he was and why he was there.

"Sir Ashe, I presume?" asked a burly doorman, barely sparing Riley a glance.

"Yes."

"Follow me," said the man as he opened the door. From now on Riley was Ashe's submissive, as he had reminded her in the car, and everything he told her to do she would have to obey without question. She must walk behind him on his right so that whatever he needed, she'd be there to service him.

"I know you won't let anything happen to me," she had told him just before they left the car. "I trust you."

Ashe walked in with Riley trailing behind him, stopping to allow her to slip the coat off his shoulders. He wished he had as much trust in himself as Riley had in him. This was his old world, where he'd traded his soul for fame and lost his sister in a battle of wills with the woman who had made him.

"The mistress is waiting for you in the playroom," said one of the men standing by the door. "Follow me."

As they followed the man through the hallway, Ashe saw people stop and stare. If this were like most play parties he attended in London, there would be other celebrities just like him in the privacy of the rooms, maybe a rock star or two and even a member of Parliament. In LA they were usually out in the open, a sign to the other guests that this was the place to be. But Ashe didn't want to go back to the time when he'd been an active participant, not when he hadn't come here to play.

He felt eyes watching them and wondered how much they knew about his life with Catriona. Did they believe that the BDSM contract was real and not merely a prop as the PR company claimed? Did it matter?

Bondage, discipline, sadomasochism—he had loved it. There was no point in denying that, behind the elegant facade, the farm boy who'd made good was a man who loved to master everyone and everything he touched, no matter how subtle his domination. How easy would it be to slip back shamelessly into his old ways, in the company of those like him?

He inhaled the smell of PVC and latex that hung in the air, the wax candles that adorned the walls and even the unmistakable scent of cowhide from a flogger in action somewhere inside the rooms. He could hear the sound it made, the snap followed by the sound of leather tails hitting flesh. Faint though it was, it echoed in his mind. It was intoxicating.

The hallway opened up into the dining area with its long wooden table bedecked with entertainment. In this case, two women pleasuring each other as couples watched from their seats. Other than leather collars around their necks and jeweled butt plugs, they were naked. Ashe heard Riley gasp behind him.

"Keep walking," he murmured as they continued along another corridor, this one leading to a flight of stairs. The house was grand, with marble steps and ornate wooden paneling, reminding Ashe of a private museum on the Upper East Side. As they reached the second floor, Ashe heard the sound of a flogger followed by a whimper, and then another and another. He smelled the scent of arousal hanging in the air, knowing that this was all Catriona's doing. She wanted him to remember. Another whimper emerged from another room, a muffled groan from behind a gag.

Why did he have to come?

The man led them to the last room, knocked softly and then opened the door. "She's in the middle of a scene, but she's expecting you."

As Ashe and Riley stepped inside the darkened room lit only by two wall lamps and candles set on a table with tools he used to be familiar with, Riley caught his hand and pulled him away. Ashe stood fast, aware that Catriona was not alone with her submissive. There was another Dominatrix with her, and they had an audience of fellow party goers seated in ornate chairs positioned along the wall. Some wore masks that covered half their faces.

In the center of the room was a woman wearing a collar and a leather harness suspended by her wrists, her stance wide from a spreader bar attached to her ankles. She moaned as Catriona, dressed in a black latex outfit that clung to her curves, her dark hair pulled in a tight bun behind her head, attached a clothespin to the woman's labia. Rows of clothespins pinched her creamy white skin, from her nipples down to her belly and inner thighs. Hardened red candle wax dotted other parts of her skin. Her head was covered with a hood with openings for her nostrils and her mouth. She was drooling.

"Oh my God! Ashe, this ... this is crazy," Riley whispered as Ashe stopped to look at her just as the door shut behind them. She brought her hands to her mouth, whimpering at the sight. Not even Ashe's expression of disapproval could prompt her to remember her promise. But of course, Riley would forget the rules. This was not her kink, and she was no submissive, not here. Wasn't that what he'd been trying to tell her?

"Sir Ashe! You're finally here!" exclaimed Catriona as she nodded her head approvingly at her submissive's whimpers. Then she directed the other Dominatrix to flog the submissive's back and thighs before she walked toward Ashe. They were soft hits but enough to cause pain as the submissive gasped. "When your manager called to say that you weren't coming alone, I had to make sure to give your guest a show she'll never forget. After all, isn't this one of the ways you used to take your time with me? The hood, the clothespins, the flogger? You used to chain me to the bed, too. That way, I was always ready for your pleasure. Remember?"

"You can stop now," Ashe said through gritted teeth, feeling Riley retreat behind him as if doing so would erase the sight before them.

Catriona peered at Riley, amused. "I'm afraid she's going to be ill, Sir Ashe."

"Catriona," said Ashe, his voice so deep it sounded like a growl. He stood with his back straight and his head held high, for despite how poorly Riley was taking everything in, he was determined to remain focused on what he'd come here to do.

"Doesn't it feel good to be back where you belong?" Catriona asked, her voice taking on a hypnotic quality. She walked up to him and lifted an elk-hide flogger, tracing its leather tails against his cheek. "Shall we play? Maybe you can do the honors?"

"No play. I came here to speak to you," replied Ashe, feeling the room swim for a second. He took a deep breath and fought to regain control. Was he really as exhausted as Lance had warned?

Catriona took another step forward, her face inches from his. It was as if she hadn't heard him or refused to listen. This time her voice was soft as she continued. "Just you and me, love, as we used to be. Just imagine the things we can do together. I doubt your sorry excuse for a submissive could endure half what I could for you."

Suddenly Ashe gripped her by the neck with one hand, and with the other, he grabbed the bullwhip she had dared to run across his cheek. The action took Catriona by surprise, and her eyes widened, but the look of fear was instantly replaced with triumph.

She had won.

"That's my Sir ... my Master," she whispered, gasping as Ashe adjusted his hold to feel her pulse throbbing under his thumb. Once upon a time, this was the norm for them, his hand around her neck as he exercised his control over her.

Catriona had been more than just his submissive. She'd been his slave.

"Ashe, what are you doing?" Riley asked, but Ashe was too angry to think of anything else but the woman in front of him. In the center of the room, the Domme continued to flog her submissive, pausing to run her gloved hand over the reddening skin.

"Wasn't I good to you?" Ashe rasped.

"Everyone's watching us," Catriona whispered as he tightened his grip. Wasn't this what they used to do when he'd claim her all those years ago?

"Let them," he said through gritted teeth. "Isn't that what you want, attention? Acknowledgment that without you, I'd be a nobody?"

She didn't answer but stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Did I not give you everything you needed when we were together?" he continued, trying to mask his anger and disappointment as he heard Riley sob behind him. He knew then that it was too late. He'd already lost everything the moment he'd set foot in the brownstone. "Did I not trust you with everything I had, even with my sister whom you swore you'd treat like family? But you didn't. Instead, you treated her like a toy for your friends' amusement. A thing they passed around for their pleasure."

He let her go then, and Catriona's face turned pale. "I never meant to hurt Hazel, Ashe. I swear it. I didn't know."

"After what you did, didn't you ever wonder why I never went back to you, not even to speak to you, knowing the many ways I could have hurt you? Hazel made me promise not to, no matter what happened. I've kept that promise, Catriona, and I intend to go on keeping it even though you're determined to destroy the woman I love."

"I should never have come here tonight, not even to talk sense to you." Ashe continued. "All this makes no sense at all. Nothing you've done to get my attention makes any bloody sense. How dare you send Riley a collar!"

"A collar!" Catriona shook her head, frowning. "Why would I do such a thing?"

"Ashe, let's go. Please!" This time, Riley's hand was firmly around his wrist, pulling him. "If you don't leave now, then I'm leaving—alone."

Catriona scoffed. "Are you going to let her get away with telling you—a Master—what to do? Is that what you've become, Ashe? Her slave?"

Although Riley had pulled open the door and left the room, Ashe turned to face Catriona. "You can call it whatever you like, Catriona. I call it love, something you forgot when we were together."

By the time Ashe caught up with Riley, a car was double-parked in front of the building, idling as they descended the steps slowly. She wasn't used to the high-heeled boots which slowed her progress through the mansion. The driver's door opened, and Dave stepped out.

"I thought I told you to go home," said Ashe.

"I know, sir," replied Dave, clearing his throat. "It's a long walk to Fifth Avenue to catch a cab at this time of night."

"Is it true, what she said? That's how you used to be with her?" Riley whispered as Ashe opened the passenger door. "And then, what you did to Catriona, choking her. You scared me, Ashe. I didn't recognize you."

Riley could barely talk, still in shock at what she'd seen and heard. It wasn't for everyone, and certainly not for her. If only she could see why he never wanted it for them.

"It's not your world, Riley, and it's no longer mine either." Ashe sighed, suddenly exhausted. "I don't know what to say to you."

"I don't think we've got anything else to say. I should have listened to you, Ashe. I should have stayed home." She stepped into the car, her gaze straight ahead. As he closed the passenger door, he knew she was right.

There was nothing left to say.