top of page
  • Writer's pictureGina A. Jones

The Colors of Ash-Chapter Fifteen




It wasn’t until I reached the bottom of the stairs, did his look morph back to all things business. “Here’s the contract,” I say, holding it up. “But I do have a few questions if that’s okay?”


He looks a bit agitated when I say this. Then he takes a heavy breath and nods. “Yes, we may discuss over dinner. Now, follow me. Dinner has been set in the dining room.”


I follow him down another hall and into a grand room set for dining. I expect to find someone here, the person who prepared the meal. But no one is here.


He pulls out a chair and instructs me to sit. Silver domes cover two place settings. Whatever it is smells wonderful. “Let’s have our dinner first, and then I will discuss any concerns you have about the contract.”


“Sounds great,” I say, taking the proffered seat.


Once Ash is seated across from me, he removes the silver cover from his plate and nods for me to do the same. He tells me we are having sea bass with baby potatoes and steamed asparagus. “It looks wonderful.” I wait for him to start, not sure which cutlery I am to use first. It also confuses me why there are rules for silverware.


He picks up his fork and takes the first bite. I follow his lead, take a bite, and smile across the table. He doesn’t smile back, only looks at me peculiarly. “Have I done something wrong?”


“No. Why do you ask?” he says, cutting into his asparagus.


I need to stop overthinking things. “I…I just want to do this…right.”


“Cinder, all you must do is follow my rules, and you’ll have nothing to worry about.”


“Yes, sir,” I say, and continue with the food.


“And I will not tell you again, and I have let it slide…since you seem to be a bit nervous. Do not call me sir until I order you to. You have not signed the contract, nor have you earned that right.”


All I do is nod and begin to eat my dinner. I’m screwing up in so many ways.


As we eat, the silence drives me crazy. And I’m not sure if I’m allowed to talk. But he didn’t say I couldn’t, yet. And why hasn’t he commented on how I look? He’s the one who picked out my clothes. Does he think I look…pretty?


“The clothes are very pretty. Did you pick them out yourself?”


“No. I have someone else for that,” he says straightforwardly. And in the comment, I feel a, so don’t feel flattered. Like he is too busy to be bothered with buying clothes for someone he knows nothing about.


“Your home is very beautiful, too. How long have you lived here?”


He drops his fork and reaches for his wine. I notice my glass is filled with more of the club soda. As he chews, he looks a bit irritated. I must be asking too many questions. But I can’t help it.


I drop my eyes from his steely stare. “I’m sorry. I…I just want you to know how much I appreciate you bringing me here, and wanting to help me out. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful.”


“Miss McIntire, you might want to wait until the contract is signed before you start thanking me. Never count your blessings…when you don’t know how much you can handle.”


My eyes shift back and forth from his to my food. I am so nervous I don’t think I can eat. I grab my glass and take a few swallows. His eyes look up over his brow at me as he continues with his dinner.


For the rest of the dinner, I remain silent. My mouth zipped shut. I will only talk when spoken to.


I wait for him to finish and stand when he does. He notices how little I ate. “Didn’t you like the food?”


“Yes, very much. I guess I’m just nervous. Please tell your cook it was wonderful.” He doesn’t say anything, only grabs the contract and tells me to follow him.


We end up in what looks like a study, with large plush velvet furniture placed around a mahogany desk. “Take a seat and let’s go over this, shall we? Tell me what you are unsure of.”


Man, where do I start? Slowly, I take a seat and sink into the chair. The thing seems to swallow me up. Pressing my lips, I glance up and tell him. “Well, I put a question mark beside the ones I’m unsure of.”


He glances over the paper and then looks back up. “Anal sex. You don’t know what that is? Or, you are choosing no.”


Of course, I know what it is. “I…I’ve never done it. I guess that’s what I meant.” There’s that steely stare of his again. Before, I thought it was kind of sexy. Now, I’m not so sure.


“I’m going to be frank with you, Cinder. You must know exactly what you will and can do to please me. There is no ‘I’m not sure.’


“I’m sorry. But I thought you were to train me?” His hand comes to his mouth as he looks to be contemplating something. “I…I do want to please you…sir, ah sorry, Mr. Sinclair.” My voice comes out weak and soft. He knows I’m scared.


“Let me put it this way, I like anal sex, and to please me, you must provide this. Is this something you will allow me to train you for?”


I don’t want to blow this, so I answer, “Yes, please.” His lips now curve into a wicked smile. I’m not sure how I feel about it.


“And what about these other question marks? Definite no, or willing to try with limits?”


“Willing to try with limits,” I say.


“Very well then. I will take these into account.”


“May I ask another question?”


“You may. But I’m growing impatient, Cinder.”


“What does…with limits mean? How will you know my limits?”


“Simple. You will use your safe word. You do know what that is, correct?”


“A word I say…and you must stop?”


“Yes. Do you have one? Or shall you use the standard, red-stop? Yellow, caution slows things down. Or, green as we all know as go.”


“Those sound pretty to the point. I’ll stay with the standard.”


“Great. Anything else before we sign and make this official?”


“Um, I don’t think so.”


“Are you ready, Cinder, to surrender your body unto me, to do with as I please? Because if you are ready to sign, to commit, I will not be taking you back to the city. As you have read in the contract, I have made provisions for you to continue your education here,” he says while glaring at me. Does the man even blink?


I swallow. “Yes,” I say, but it’s barely audible.


He pulls out a pin from inside his suit and signs his name. Next, he hands the pen and contract to me. I sign on the line and hand it over…just like my body.


“Welcome to my world, Cinder. I hope you can handle my pleasure.”


***


The Colors of Ash © 2024 Gina A. Jones rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.


This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

27 views7 comments

Recent Posts

See All

7 Comments

Rated 0 out of 5 stars.
No ratings yet

Add a rating
amsmith414
Jan 08
Rated 5 out of 5 stars.

She’s a brave girl!


Like
Gina A. Jones
Gina A. Jones
Jan 08
Replying to

Yes, she is. 🫣

Like

angie jones
Jan 06
Rated 5 out of 5 stars.

Like
Gina A. Jones
Gina A. Jones
Jan 07
Replying to

Just sign on the dotted line 🥰😎

Like

Brooke
Jan 05
Rated 5 out of 5 stars.

More please. Can’t wait till Monday 😫

Like

shannon Cheripka
Jan 05
Rated 5 out of 5 stars.

Let the training begin!! Can't wait to see how ash and cinder are together!!

Like
Gina A. Jones
Gina A. Jones
Jan 05
Replying to

🥰🥰

Like
bottom of page