Page 3 of Master Heimdall

“I think I know the perfect person, but I want to be sure. Other than booking hotels and transportation, what else is in the job description? I don’t want to waste your time.”

The job description was easy to share but this was a perfect time to express exactly what I preferred. I could be a tough task master, especially when it came to those I leaned on the most. I was a Dom in every sense of the word, my work character didn’t deviate much from my club persona, Heimdall.

“He or she, preferably he, would need to be able to operate quickly under stress with enthusiasm and without complaint. They would be responsible for scheduling, booking travel and accommodations as well as any extras or special requests required for each job. This is not limited to acquiring supplies, ammunition, and outside personnel when needed. This person would have to provide individual itineraries for each guard and be able to shift schedules on a dime if something goes wrong and new plans are required. I don’t need another flaky flower or pampered princess; I need a steel fist in a velvet glove.”

“Picky much?” she replied with an evil grin.

“Hey, no judgment, this is my baby and I can be as picky as I want. Colin and I’ve been interviewing for other back-office positions and you would be shocked at the special snowflakes who have applied.”

“I can only imagine.”

“It’s not the nutjobs who want to bust heads and be the next Jack Ryan that I mind so much, but why the hell would you apply to work at a security company if you are a card-carrying pacifist? We had one woman say she would not speak directly to anyone who willingly carried a gun.”

Mari’s laughter relaxed a little of the tension I’d been carrying. Mrs. Goodwin, Erik’s housekeeper, cleared our plates and laid out a tempting array of desserts and coffee. The chatter continued around us, but to me it was only a buzzing of voices as Mari and I continued our discussion on my vision for the perfect coordinator to handle logistics for G&H Security.

Mari sipped her coffee. “I believe the person I’m thinking of would be perfect. Can I send them over to your office tomorrow?”

I eyed her speculatively. Mari wasn’t beyond tricks and I hoped to hell I’d conveyed the seriousness of my situation. “This person better be legitimate, Mari. We’re friends but I’m not in the position to hire someone just because they are your friend. If you send me over one of your broken subby toys, I will take you over my knee. I don’t care if you are a Domme.” She tended to play with men and women who were so needy that I shuddered at the thought of having to work with one of them.

Mari cackled. “Oh, I’m so scared, Master Heimdall. No, this person is not and has never been under my heel. I wouldn’t dream of screwing with your business that way.”

I didn’t like the addition of the words “that way” but I trusted my friend. She batted her eyelashes at me and I nodded, even knowing I was probably getting suckered. I turned back to the dessert plates and grabbed a few treats. Hopefully, I wouldn’t regret agreeing to meet with her friend too much.

Chapter Two

Rose

Who would have believed helping a guest find a good place to buy a cock cage in Hamburg would lead to me interviewing at a place like this?

As I stood at the base of the towering skyscraper in the heart of Philadelphia, my gaze traced the elegant lines of the building reaching up toward the sky. The glass and steel structure seemed to touch the heavens. The imposing facade of the G&H Security headquarters commanded respect, and a mix of anticipation and nervous excitement filled my chest.

Mari had told me about the possible job last night; she’d made it sound almost too good to be true. I’d originally agreed to come back to the States and help her get things in order, take some time off between jobs and check out the area she called home, Philadelphia. It wasn’t that I was sure my days as a globe-trotting concierge were over, but it had been time for a change. No matter what country I had been in, everything had started to feel the same.

I suffered from restless-soul syndrome. At least that is what I called it. Completely my father’s fault as we’d moved around a lot because of his position in the Air Force. And as soon as I was old enough to be on my own, I was drawn to international positions that allowed me a fresh and exciting new start. Whenever I felt I’d learned all I could in one place, I’d leave. It didn’t matter if it was often at a monetary deficit.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed money as much as the next person, but there were so many more important things in life you couldn’t put a price tag on. Happiness, freedom, or not being on call twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

When I started my career, learning a new city or country had been a priceless experience. I ate it up like a starving woman, immersing myself in multiple languages and cultures had been my new joy. That joy had remained for me for quite a long time. I learned down the road that there was also a cost that had nothing to do with money—relationships.

I had friends all over the world, even a few lovers, but rarely true connections. It was hard to stay close when you were physically so far apart. Mari was the first person who turned out to be an exception to that rule. But she’d been more a force of nature than woman when we’d first met at a swanky hotel in Germany, where I was concierge at the time.

* * *

Days as a concierge at a five-star hotel were long but the end of my shift was temptingly close. The soft chime of the elevator drew my eyes to the doors but the tiny, beautiful woman who stepped out caught my attention. She had a commanding presence as she strode toward me that made it impossible to look away.

It was as if everyone in the lobby was entranced by her. The way she moved and the tilt of her chin made me believe that not only was she used to people staring at her, but she enjoyed it. I loved being watched but I was never as confident as she was. Did it take practice or was it something else? Perhaps she was an actress used to being on stage.

She wore a sleek body-hugging dress, with an electric-blue ombre pattern that darkened to black at the hem. The asymmetrical design highlighted daring cutouts that teased along the lines of her body. The designer red-soled heels were so high you would think she would have trouble walking in them but she strode across the marble floor with a self-assurance that was enviable. Her makeup was subtle except for her perfectly painted red lips which held a small smirk as if she were well aware of the attention she garnered, expected it even.

She was sexy with an elegance that never skirted the line into trashy. Her long wavy dark hair was a waterfall of loose waves that tumbled right down to her ass. As she glided closer to me, her eyes held mine with an interest that despite my normally straight orientation, tightened things down below.

“I’m Mari”—she glanced at my name tag—“Rose, what a lovely name. Could you possibly tell me if there is a good place nearby to purchase a cock cage?”

I couldn’t help the giggle of amusement or the expression of surprise at her request. It wasn’t that I didn’t get odd or kinky requests from guests. They were just usually far less confident when asking. Trying to recover my professionalism, I cleared my throat and straightened my shoulders.

“There are a few within a reasonable distance. WOS is the largest but my favorite is The Erotic Sex Shop, smaller in size but they specialize in kinks with higher quality products.”

“You had me at favorite.” She winked.

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