The Academy Read Online Free Page B

turn.
    Geoff immediately assumed a contrite expression. “Of course, Ninon! I apologize. I really just meant to come over and say hello. I’m sorry I interrupted your conversation. You’ll both hear enough from me later! See you in session, Parker. Bye, Mike.” He turned and entered the crowd, immediately greeting someone else and getting drawn into another conversation.
    “The battle is joined,” Ninon said softly.
    “I wish that he was the worst of my opponents,” Chris said lightly. “You know where the real battle will be—with the spotters.” He coughed, and then added, “And the British.”
    The older woman nodded, and laid her hand lightly on Chris’s arm again. She looked sympathetic. “Yes, I have heard. Still, I believe we should gather our friends close, and be sure to listen very carefully to what Mr. Negel and his supporters are saying. It would be a shame to lose because we have underestimated the feelings of those like him. I think I shall see who else is here and in agreement. Let us share our resources at breakfast, yes?”
    For a second, Chris Parker looked almost shocked, but he recovered and nodded gravely. “An excellent idea, thank you, Ninon.”
    “No, no, thank you. And may I say, Chris, you are looking more handsome than ever! Good-bye, young Michael, and do try to calm down.” She smiled kindly, and as she turned to leave, Mike colored into a blush.
    God, this was going to be difficult! It was one thing to just be there, acting as Chris’s valet and all around flunky, being nice and polite to everyone. But he had been dreading this eventual meeting with Geoff Negel. To have it coincide with the erotic flush he had felt upon meeting Ninon was just typical of the exquisite timing that made his life so hard.
    Geoff Negel had been the first Marketplace professional that Michael had ever met, back when his first exposure to this underground world was through his Uncle Niall, a Hollywood writer. Somewhat undecided as to what his own professional life was going to look like, Michael had leapt at the chance to become a trainer of real-life slaves, and for many months, lived the idyllic life of a man for whom no pleasure was denied. But then, he screwed up royally and put his own training in jeopardy. By sheer luck, the East Coast trainer known as Anderson responded to his request for further training. Little had he known where that trip would take him, exactly how far from the warm, sheltering hedonism of Geoff Negel’s California-based house of slave training.
    He felt ashamed; as though he had been stripped and exposed before Geoff, and made to grovel like a penitent slave. Geoff hadn’t gone for all this “in order to be a good trainer, you have to know how to be a good slave” stuff. In fact, he had spoken derisively of it, confident in his own methods, his own style. To stand there in front of him behaving like a slave in training, to refuse his invitation to call him by his first name—it was humiliating. How could something that was so right, day to day, be so damn hard minute to minute?
    “Was it really so difficult?” Chris asked, in his casually maddening way.
    “Yes, sir,” Michael said. “I’m sorry I let it show.”
    “Well, it takes practice to know exactly how much emotion to display,” Chris said. Apparently, he was in a generous mood. “If your intention was to show Geoff that he could effectively humiliate you, you did well. If your intention was to make Ninon treat you like a clumsy, shy adolescent, I’d say you were marvelously successful.”
    Or, maybe he was just saving the cutting remarks for last, Michael thought.
    “Never mind that, though—Ninon has that affect on many people, regardless of orientation or taste.” The corner of Chris’s mouth twitched slightly, and Michael knew he was flashing on some pleasant memory. “If she had not produced that affect on you at first, she would have no doubt tried for something even more