Page 225 of Entering Stronghold

“My mom would have grounded me if my room had looked like this,” Lexie said with a snort, heading for the kitchen. If Patrick was going to hang around berating her, instead of doing something more interesting to show his displeasure, then she was going to have a glass of wine while he did it. She kicked a few shirts out of the way to make a path, and she swore she could actually feel Patrick’s eyes boring into her back.

Truthfully, her apartment rarely looked quite this bad; she hadn’t been able to find the shoes she’d wanted to wear tonight, and so she’d had to open up a couple of the many boxes she hadn’t gotten around to unpacking yet, in order to find them. Plus, putting together an outfit always meant trying on a couple of possibilities, and she hadn’t had time to pick everything up and put it in the closet before Master Michael had picked her up to go to Stronghold. She didn’t mind having clothes all around for a night or two, as long as nothing was actually dirty in the house. Her kitchen and bathroom were clean, that was what counted.

“Why haven’t you unpacked yet? You’ve lived here for months.” Patrick stood framed in the doorway of her tiny kitchen, blocking her way out. Lexie just shrugged as she opened up one of her cabinets, pulled out two of her four wineglasses, and picked up the bottle of wine sitting on her counter. It was half-empty because she liked to have a glass every evening while she was winding down, watching television from her chair.

“I’ve got the most important stuff unpacked,” she said, nodding her head at the kitchen cabinets before handing him a glass of wine. He took it, but just held it as she took a sip of hers, both of his arms still crossed over his chest. “You know how it is. I got the stuff I used on an everyday basis put away, and then things just got busy. Two jobs, hanging out with friends... most of the stuff that’s still in boxes are clothes for the winter, shoes that I don’t wear that often, and little knickknacks. No point in unpacking those until I have some furniture to put them on.”

“Where is your furniture? You can’t tell me you parents didn’t let you take any.”

Lexie rolled her eyes, leaning her hip against the kitchen counter since it was obvious Patrick wasn’t going to move aside and let her out of the narrow space. Her kitchen was just a narrow galley with counters and cabinets on either side, with a stove and a fridge. There wasn’t even a dishwasher.

“Yeah, but I wanted to pick out my own. And I knew if I brought any to use, I would never get around to actually getting my own. This way I’m motivated to save up my money for the stuff I need,” she said, with a grin. It was a good way of getting around her tendency to spend money on things like going out with friends and actually focus on getting the stuff she wanted. Having furniture to “make-do,” for her, would mean she would end up making do with the same stuff for years. Living like this gave her a lot more motivation to save her money for the big pieces. She almost had enough for the gorgeous queen-sized storage bed she’d fallen in love with at a discount furniture store. Yeah it was discount, but it was still pretty. Plus the extra storage underneath the actual bed would come in handy, and the salesman had said it only needed a mattress, not a box spring. Since she already had two queen-sized mattresses, that wasn’t a problem.

Patrick sighed, uncrossing his arms, and he took a gulp of his wine. After another moment, he took another gulp. Normally he didn’t drink wine so quickly, she must really be getting to him. Hiding her smile behind her own glass, Lexie took another sip of hers. She’d thrown enough of her “weird logic” his way over the years that he never bothered to argue with her about it anymore. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

The segue was so unexpected Lexie was caught completely off guard. She blinked, feeling like she’d just spun around really quickly. “Um... nothing until the evening, and then I’m going over to Angel’s for some girl time. Well,” she amended, grimacing a bit, “if she still wants me to.”

“She’ll be fine,” Patrick said, with the unconcerned air of a Dom who didn’t think anything of turning a naughty subbie’s ass bright red. “Tomorrow I want you to clean up this place, and unpack everything that’s clothing or shoes. What time are you going to be at Angel’s?” He placed the half-full wineglass down on the counter as Lexie frowned at him, her ire picking up.

“Six o’clock, but-“

“Good, I’ll be by around five thirty then.”

“Excuse me,” Lexie said, heatedly, as she put down her own wineglass a little harder than usual. The liquid sloshed over the side, but she didn’t care. She was too busy walking after Patrick who had turned his back and started to leave as soon as he’d made his infuriating announcement. “Exactly what makes you think you have the right to tell me what to do in my own apartment?”

Patrick stopped and turned, his eyes suddenly so hot and hard and intense it literally knocked the breath from her body as she skidded to a halt, staring up at him. This was not how she expected him to be looking at her right now. The air around them seemed to tighten, as if his authority was a visceral thing hovering like an aura over his body.

“If you want to return to Stronghold and be trained by me as a submissive, then when I come here at five thirty tomorrow, this apartment will be clean and most of those boxes will be unpacked.”

The air in her lungs was gone. Sucked away by a strange mix of excitement and trepidation and joy and fear.

“Do you understand me, Pixie?”

She nodded, and Patrick frowned at her. Fuck. Her pussy clenched even as her gut swirled with anxiety at the expression on his face.

“First lesson, Pixie. When I ask you a question, you will respond verbally, and you will call me Sir.”

“Yes, Sir.” Air she didn’t know she had trapped in her lungs came out in a sudden rush, as her body finally released enough tension for her to talk. As if it had been waiting for his permission.

“Good girl.” Those hard eyes warmed, and he gently touched her cheek before suddenly turning and striding out the door. His voice drifted behind him even as the door closed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Holy...

Suddenly shaky, Lexie sat down hard in the middle of the floor, feeling stunned. Feeling... god, she couldn’t even describe how she was feeling, there were too many emotions rioting through her all at once. Joy, because he was finally going to let her into the club, because he was going to train her. Slight frustration... what did he mean by train? Were they dating now? Training her to be his submissive or to be a submissive? There was a pretty big difference. Anticipation - who cared what he was going to train her as, as long as he was doing it! It was a huge step, and she’d be able to show him she could take whatever he could dish out. Fear she would disappoint him... that she’d fuck this up.

Arousal. Really hot, anxious, body-tightening arousal. Who knew being told to clean up could be sexy?

A spurt of excitement flowed through her as she realized, even if he meant to train her as a submissive, he was treating her like his. This was a test. She knew damned well Patrick liked to give his girlfriend lists of chores and errands to do during the day. Most of them hadn’t lasted long. Lexie, on the other hand, had found herself floundering a bit without the structure of school.

Yeah, she had a job. Yeah, she managed to get her bills paid. But the state of her apartment was a pretty good indication of how she managed things that didn’t need to be done right away. It was just too easy to be distracted by other things that seemed more pressing than unpacking the rest of her clothes. Heck, even tomorrow, she hadn’t planned to do anything about her apartment. Maybe clean up the mess she’d made, but after that she probably would have gone over to her parents, or maybe go to Angel’s early, or gone shopping or something rather than unpack the boxes that really did need to be unpacked. Because it wasn’t like they had to be done right now.

Except, now they did. Because Patrick had told her to. Some of the ladies in her Women’s Studies classes a couple years ago would kick her butt to hear her say it, but it felt really right. What did they know anyway? Women’s rights were about women making the choices that felt good to them, and for Lexie, it felt good to do what Patrick had told her to.

Picking herself up off the floor, she started picking up some of the clothes around her. Humming softly to herself, she smiled; the wine glasses in the kitchen were completely forgotten.

Returning to Lexie’s apartment the next day, Patrick beat down the feeling of anticipation that had haunted him ever since he’d left the night before. It had felt incredibly good to give her directions, knowing he would check up on her, knowing there would be consequences. He was a bit torn about whether he’d deny her Stronghold or if he’d spank her, but either way, it was the first time in far too long that he’d exerted his dominance over a woman in any kind of real way.

Once Lexie had started working at the club, he’d stopped playing there... and since he didn’t really enjoy casual scenes, he didn’t play at home either. Hell, he hadn’t dated since Lexie started working at Stronghold, even when she was going out with that little jerk Trevor. That had driven him nuts. The little bastard hadn’t deserved Lexie at all, although at least she’d figured that out. Patrick had gotten a couple good swings in before his friends had pulled him off the dickwad. She’d brought Trevor to Stronghold for the very first theme night Patrick had allowed her to hold.

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