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The setting for the Sheila & K'avir stories is the Star Trek Mirrorverse. Anything Star Trek-related are the intellectual property of Gene Roddenberry. All other characters, planets, star systems and content not within said scope are my own.


Discipline (11/12)

“Kissin’ You” (Remix)  Total
“I’m So Into You”  SWV
"Toxic" Britney Spears
“Can’t You See”  Total
“Lose Control” Silk
“Nobody’s Supposed to Be Here” Deborah Cox
"Love Will Be Waiting at Home"  For Real

About two hours later, he entered my apartment, looking amazing as hell.  I was still on my couch, just sitting with my feet tucked under me, listening to Coltrane's Blue Train.  I looked over at him and he came and sat next to me on the couch after loosening his tie and removing his coat.

Max looked at the end table and then at me.  “Champagne and chocolate strawberries?  It's barely noon.”

“It’s been that kind of day.”

He gazed at me for a long time.  "So I can't afford you, eh?"

I looked at him, keeping my emotions tight.  "Maybe not.  I'm not cheap.  Or easy."

"And I'm neither broke nor weak."  He put a hand on my thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze.  "Iolanthe.  Beautiful.  What does it mean?”

“Violet flower.  It’s Greek.”

He extended his hand.  “Miss Iolanthe J.  Rothschild, my name is Max J. Stanford.  I must say it’s an honor to meet you.”  He gave me that smile that I adored.  “What’s the ‘J’ for?”

I took his hand and he kissed my fingers.  I couldn’t help but smile back.  “Hi Max.  A pleasure to meet you too.  J is for Justine.”

“Now that that’s out of the way,” he said, scooting closer to me, “…we need to talk.”

I sighed as I looked at him.  “You start.”

Max took my hand and began to play with my fingers.  “Tell me what you want, what you need.  And I don’t mean sexually.  I have the answer to that.”

I gazed at him.  “I like things the way they are, Max.  What we have, well up until our last night together, was beautifully uncomplicated.  We understood each other, knew each other’s secrets, and could please one another.”

“Last night together?  Please don’t say that our first time making love was the last.  I won’t hear of it.  You know, I can do better.”

I smiled. Lord, if that was true…  “No, I just meant that we haven’t been together since then.”

“It may have been uncomplicated for you, Io,” he said.  “But for me, it was torture.”


“I did whatever you wanted because I wanted to be around you.  I’m drawn to you, same as you are to me.  Do you remember how this started?  I let you dictate things because I understood your need to be in absolute control, and it was satisfying until I began to want more of you.  I knew that you could see it in me; I knew that you knew I wanted more, but you ignored me. I'm not good at being ignored, especially when I want something.”

I sighed, remembering the re-negotiation and the absolute boldness of him standing naked in my doorway.  “Go on.”

“Why wouldn’t any man want more of you, more with you?  You act as if that’s an impossibility, like you can’t have it unless you don’t want it.  And you want me, Iolanthe.  I know this like I know the taste of you, the feel of you.  You want me as much as I want you.  I don’t understand why you won’t act on it.  What's the problem, girl?”

“Things get complicated, Max.  I need for my life to be simple.”

“This is simple.” he said.  “When I told you that I couldn’t wait to get home to you, I meant it.  It gets frustrating for me because I want to be with you outside of this place; to be on your arm in public, to date you, to let the world know that I want to be with you.”

"I don't date," I said.  I don't have time for the game-playing.

"Neither do I," he said.  "I don't have time for the usual bullshit, but I want to date the hell out of you."

“I can’t let that happen,” I said, thinking about Kelton.  He wanted to be with me too.

“Why not?”

I sighed and looked at Max, my lip poked out.  “I don’t know.  I’m a mess.  I don’t know why; I just need for things to be nice and tight and uncomplicated.”

He continued to play with my fingers.  “We're adults.  Why should we have a complicated relationship?  We’re extremely compatible.  I like you, a lot.”

“Do you know that I was married once?  Briefly.  He couldn’t handle my drive, and by that I mean my need to make it to the top by any means necessary.  He said he could, but he couldn’t.  We were married less than six months, and that’s probably the only really big mistake I’ve made as an adult.  What he really wanted was a wife who wouldn’t make more money than him, and who would pop out a couple of rug-monkeys.  Even though he knew up front that I wasn’t that kind of woman.  He made my life messy for two years.”

He started rubbing my arm.  “You’re so soft.  I love your skin; it’s completely unmarked. I could lie in bed with you all day and not need another thing.”  He sighed. "Pity you don't allow yourself to be photographed."


“I married young," he said, "Two years before I inherited my grandfather’s company.  I put my efforts into making MJS what I knew it could be and not into my marriage.  She had an affair and I let her go.  There's no animosity.  I do have two beautiful children who live with her in Atlanta.  I see them every couple of weeks.”

“How old are they?”

“Fifteen year-old twins; a son and daughter.  Max V and Maia.  My heart.  They’re the best thing from my marriage.  I love my kids.”

Hearing him say that made me feel warm.  “I never wanted children. I didn’t really want to get married, but he wanted to.  I’m simply not wife material.  I love my job, I love what I do.  While I enjoy being at the helm of RF&L, I actually miss being in the courtroom.  I miss verbal vivisection.  I miss slaughtering my opponents.  I miss the blood in the water and moving in for the kill.  I...miss...winning.”

“You’re a shark,” he said, rubbing his nose against my shoulder.  “A tiger, a wolf.  You’re an apex predator.  You’ve left nothing but corpses in your wake, and I find it sexy as hell that you’re so ruthless. Your reputation precedes you, Iolanthe.  I've followed your exploits for some time and I always wondered what you looked like. Reading about your takedowns used to make me hard and I wanted you to work for me.  Game recognizes game.”

“I know you’re not talking,” I said, staring into his eyes.  “Maximilian J. Stanford?  Your reputation is legendary. 'Negative fucks given,' is what people in the industry say about you.”  Too many lawyers I know represented clients whose lives had been destroyed by his brutal efficiency.  He was a beast.  So was I.  Perhaps we were well-suited.

He kissed my shoulder.  “You smell so good.  I wish you would come work for me. Think of what we could do, with our super powers combined.  I'm hard now just thinking about it.  We could rule the world.”

“You’re out of your fucking mind.  Besides, you don’t need me.  You stay on top.”

“My grandfather would be proud.  Dad, not so much.”  He shrugged.  “Now that you know about me, I need to know how it affects our relationship.  It doesn’t need to be complicated.  I’m not looking to remarry, and I certainly don’t want more children.  I just want you.  With you, I don’t have to be M. J. Stanford.  I can be the man you burn for.”  He looked at me.  “I thought my heart was going to explode when you said that shit this morning.  I wanted to fall to my knees and worship you.”

"Boy, quit playing."

"You say that a lot."

"'Cause it's true.  You're a fucking goddess.  You deserve to be worshipped."

“Why do you want me?”

He looked at me like I was crazy.  “You have to ask?”

“I suppose not, but what in the world would we do?”

“Be together,” he said, matter-of-factly.  “I see no reason why what we have should change.  I just want more.  Sometimes you travel with me and I with you.  Sometimes we buy groceries.  I cook, you know.  I’d love to cook for you.  I don’t know." He shrugged. "You can continue to give me baths and wash my hair.  I could paint your toenails, feed you cake and blow bubbles in your belly. We can have pillow fights and you can strip for me.  We can dance and eat grapes in the kitchen and make love all over the place.  Let’s just be.  Stop putting up boundaries and let go.  Stop trying to control this.”

“People will know.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

“You’re Max—”

“Woman, I know who I am and I know who you are.  You act as if everyday random people on the street know my face or yours.  You didn’t know who I am and I didn’t know who you are until today.  No one cares about us, Io.  We’re just regular people.”

“You’re a billionaire.”

“And you’re a millionaire how many times over?  Let’s not make this about money.  What’s that got to do with me making you breakfast in the morning?  What’s it got to do with you washing my hair?  What does it have to do with what I'm going to do to you in the next ten minutes?”

“Don’t you have an estate somewhere with a team of servants?”

“I didn’t grow up like that, and I don’t need all that.  Are you going to hold it against me?  Whatever your issues, let’s deal with them now and get them out of the way.  I make terrific omelets. I prefer English muffins as opposed to toast.  Bacon is a food group and I like waffles with fresh blueberries and warm maple syrup.”

I giggled.  I was nervous and I couldn’t help it. “I don’t know how not to control things, Max.  I’m disciplined; I’m content as long as I have what I need.”

“I refuse to believe that you’re satisfied not having orgasms, or not having someone in your bed, or not having the intimacy I know we share.  If you were, we wouldn’t be here.  You wouldn’t keep your door open for me and I wouldn’t for you, if you didn’t want what we already have.  Do you want me, Io?  Do you want to let this go?”  He kissed my shoulder again.

“No,” I said.  “I don’t.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I just didn’t see this coming, and I usually see the train before I jump off the tracks.  When you followed me the other night and we ended up fucking on my dining room table…”

Max smiled.  “Don’t forget the floor, this couch, your bed, the shower…”

I continued.  “I didn’t expect you to follow me.  I really expected you to stay put because you always stay put.  But you didn't.  You followed me…naked…somebody could have seen you!—You didn’t push things until you wanted to kiss me…and the next thing I know, we’re making love.  I was trying to avoid that.”

“Surely you didn’t think I would just let you keep running away from me, especially when you knew that I wanted you. This isn’t rocket science, Io.  It’s not even kitchen chemistry.  I want you and you want me.  I'm a man, you're a woman, and we want each other.  There’s nothing complex about it.”

I found myself blabbing.  “There’s a guy…”

The look in his eyes changed immediately.  “You mean you got a man?  The fuck is wrong with him?” 

I wish I could have gotten a picture of his expression; it was priceless.  “No, he’s not really my man, but we’ve been dating, and he likes me.”

“You like him?”

“I do.  He’s fun, and he’s funny, he makes me laugh and he takes me places…”

“Is that right?"

I smiled at him.  "Yeah. He thinks I don't laugh enough and he's right."

Max looked thoughtful.  "And?”

“I was honest with him.  I’m always honest with men.  I told him there was someone…that made his pursuit of me…complicated…and he thought it was ridiculous.”

“How so?”

“He said to me, ‘Either the bloke wants to be with you or he doesn’t.’  Then he mentioned something about said bloke being beaten with a cat-o'nine tails for keeping me guessing.”

“Not realizing that you’re the one hedging your bets.  But if you want to be spanked, all you need do is ask.  Happy to put my hands all over that ass.”

I smiled at him and deftly ignored that last part.  “If he suspected, he never said.  He came on strong, but I drew the line in the sand…almost quite literally.  I don’t date my subordinates, but you had my head all messed up and I had to think…needed to think…”

“How did I mess up your head? I'm curious.”

I took a breath and looked him directly in the eyes.  “I burn for you,” I said.  “And I like burning like this.  I come home every day instead of going out and being sociable because I want to be with you.  Time away from my home is time away from you. You get me. We don't really have to talk; we can read each other.  You see me.  With you, I’m…my desire for you is consuming, Max.  I love touching you, I love the way you feel, the way you sound, the way you look when I please you.  I do love the taste of your skin and the taste of you.  I love the way you feel inside of me, when you kiss me, when you taste me…when you bite my nipples and my ass…I love how hard you make me come…I feel like I could lose complete control with you.  Sometimes it terrifies me that I feel that way, and I feel like it shows, that everyone can see how weak you make me.  Keeping it here, in our apartments, protects my secret, keeps me safe.  I ran from you because I was afraid of you, of your power.  I just can't seem to keep it together when you're around.  I almost fainted this morning when I saw you standing in my conference room.  For all of my self-discipline, all you have to do is tug and I'll come undone.

A long time passed before he spoke, but he continued to hold my gaze.  I didn't regret a word of what came out of my mouth.  We never lied to each other.  “Jesus, woman…” he said.

“I don’t know what else to say,” I said.  “But being with him in the way we were took my mind off you long enough to think clearly.”

“What stops you from losing control with me?”

“I don’t want to lose my head.”

He looked thoughtful.  “Those are the shoes you had on today, right?”

I looked over where I kicked off my black patent Louboutins.  “Yeah.”

“Do you mind putting them on for me?

I leaned forward and put my shoes on.  Then I looked at him.

“Sit on my lap,” he said, adjusting.

“In this dress?”  I made a face.  It was a contoured fit.

“Yeah.  In that sexy-ass dress. You didn’t see the looks on my lawyers’ faces when you walked into the room.  I know every single one of them caught wood when you showed up. I would have too, but I know how to maintain control.”

I stood in front of him and he looked me up and down in that way all you women reading this will recognize.  I took a deep breath, put my hands on my hips and pushed up the skirt.  His eyes almost popped out of his head.  I was wearing a garter belt.

“You had that on at work?”

“I wear a garter belt all the time.”

He closed his eyes as I straddled his lap.  Automatically, his hands went to my derriere.  “Had I known that, I would have bent your fine ass over that conference table.  Damn it, woman...” 

“You’re not supposed to know.  It’s my secret—or it was.”

He was rubbing my stocking-clad thighs, his attention diverted as he fingered the lace of my garter.  “Can’t believe you were wearing this shit,” he said.  “My ex-wife…she didn’t…it doesn’t matter.  G-ddamn, woman…How many of these do you have?  Do you want more?  I can fuckin' buy Fredericks of Hollywood for you if you want.”

“Why did you want me to get in your lap?”  I said, trying to steer the conversation back on track.

Max looked at me, mind clearly on other things.  “What?”

“You asked me to get in your lap.  Why?”

He blinked several times.  “What were we talking about again?  I lost my mind there for a minute.  Do you have those stockings with the line up the back?  Please say yes.”

I refused to engage that line of conversation.  “You asked me what stops me from losing control with you, and I said that I didn’t want to lose my head.”

His hands moved over my body freely, but he looked in my eyes.  “It’s only fair, isn’t it?”

I took a deep breath.  His hands felt good.  “What’s fair?”

“You’re not obtuse, Iolanthe.  I mean, why else would a man like me let a woman dictate the terms of our relationship to the point of controlling exactly how I should please her, when I’m well versed in sex and used to doing whatever the hell I want. Clearly, my head was lost some time ago, probably when you let me put my hands all over you.  I know I don't look like a boss, especially when I dress the way you normally see me.  I couldn't get my head around the fact that a classy lady like you found my rough edges and sweat appealing.

I stared at him.  “Max…”  He had no idea how much it appealed to me.

“It’s only fair,” he insisted.  “Let’s be equal partners in this thing, now.  I lost mine, so lose yours.  I’m not worried, so you shouldn’t either.”

I didn’t know how to respond.  He was so blasé about putting it all out there for me to know.  It is not a move I would have ever made; I play my cards close to the vest.  However, he clearly knew what I was thinking.  “I don’t care, Io.  Who am I saying this to?  The world?  No, I’m saying this to you.  And what are you going to do, girl?  Tell them?  This is nobody's business but ours.”

I put my hands on his cheeks as he unabashedly felt me up.  I literally had no counterargument to make, and I was starting to burn.  “Max…”

He linked my fingers and kissed the knuckles before giving me a look that made every part of my body tighten up.  Then he said, in what was clearly a Maximilian Jackson Stanford IV tone: "There'll be no more running, Iolanthe."

I swallowed, wondering if the air between us was hot enough to ignite.  "All right."

“Give me those lips,” he said.  As I leaned forward to give him what he asked for, he tilted his head and said, “One more thing.”


“Tell that guy to back off or I’ll destroy him.”



  1. Welp! Sorry, Kelton!

  2. Amaya, am I to understand you're leaning more towards Max than you are Kelton?

    1. I told you I was Team Tom. It could go either way...

    2. You better not do a Soprano ending Amaya, I'll come to China to find you. :)

  3. Wow...I didn't know that Max was that serious about the relationship.
    Poor Kelton, but I think Iolanthe would be best with someone much stronger than him, not just a perfect gentleman. She's hard to deal with and bonds easily with Max on an emotional and career level so I'm liking the new direction of this story.

    One more chapter left...it's already almost over *sigh*

  4. I have read this whole story and woah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I like the way you write, it flows and it never seems choppy. I can follow it easily and get lost in it. I don't know who I want Lo with. While Kelton is the romantic type, maybe he has something up his sleeves. With one chapter left I will be very surprised if she goes for Kelton and not Max because Max is appearing as the ideal candidate.

  5. This story should have point blank been about Tom Hardy it seems. I mean I'm sure everyone would've def still read it, there's basically no need for Kelton.


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