by Erika Wilde
“Don’t.”
The one-word warning was sharp enough to cut glass, and she swallowed hard but didn’t flinch or cower. “Does it . . . hurt?”
His mouth twisted sardonically. “Not physically.”
Which left emotional and mental pain still on the table. Clearly, there were unpleasant memories attached to those scars, and whatever they were, Maddux wasn’t inclined to share. Then again, so far Maddux hadn’t struck her as the kind of man who opened up easily about any part of his life.
He released her hand and immediately got out of bed. Without a word, he went into the bathroom, shut the door, and returned a few minutes later. Ignoring her, he went to a chest of drawers, retrieved a pair of jeans, and pulled them on over his black boxer briefs.
“When you’re ready, I’ll meet you in the kitchen for breakfast and to go over a few ground rules for living here.”
And with that, he was gone. She exhaled a sigh, rolled to her back, and stared up at the ceiling, realizing that this was going to be her new normal for however long Maddux decided to keep her. A life with guidelines and rules and getting whiplash from his shifting moods. Oh, joy.
Last night, after he’d stormed out of the bedroom after kissing her, she’d had the thought that she could have walked out of his penthouse and left him and the situation behind. She could have called authorities and claimed kidnapping or tried any other number of ways to escape, but there was one thing that was most at stake that made her determined to remain and serve whatever sentence Maddux had in store for her.
She wasn’t staying because of the possibility of having her father’s massive debt forgiven, or the chance of Maddux releasing all her dad’s assets back to him, because there was no guarantee of either. No, it was ultimately her father’s declining health that kept her from walking away. Because if she didn’t stay, she knew things would be worse for her dad, and the thought of losing her only parent—even if he had wronged Maddux and his siblings—was distressing enough to make Arabella follow through on the agreement she’d made.
She’d made a deal, and she would honor it.
With that pep talk, she got out of bed and went to the enormous bathroom that was half the size of the bedroom and like a luxurious spa. On one side was a long, sleek vanity with a heated towel rack at the end and some kind of fancy toilet. Opposite that wall was a huge glass-enclosed and marbled cubicle that combined numerous overhead showerheads and massage jets built into the wall, along with a gigantic soaking tub that had to have been custom-made to accommodate Maddux’s size. Even if he spilled water over the rim, there were numerous drains on the floor to catch it all.
Considering how much Arabella loved baths, she’d at least enjoy that bit of luxury while she was here, she thought with a smile.
But right now, she had orders to meet Maddux in the kitchen, but as she stared into the bathroom mirror, she realized she had no clean clothes to change into, no makeup remover or even a brush for her hair. Until she retrieved some of her own things from home, she improvised by wiping away the smudges beneath her eyes with a tissue, brushed her teeth with her finger, and tried to tame her disheveled hair before joining Maddux in the luxurious kitchen, still wearing the T-shirt he’d put her in last night.
The delicious scent of bacon and coffee made her stomach grumble, and she found her captor standing at the stainless-steel stove, cooking the strips of pork. The sight of Maddux’s bare, toned physique distracted her for a moment. His skin was tanned and smooth, and the way his muscled back tapered from his wide shoulders down to his narrow hips was nothing short of a work of art. The kind she could admire for hours for all its perfection.
He must have heard or sensed her presence, because he glanced over his shoulder to look at her. His expression was neutral, which she supposed was an improvement from last night’s irate mood and this morning’s grumpy disposition.
“There’s orange juice, or fresh coffee if you prefer,” he said, returning his gaze to his task. “Creamer is in the refrigerator.”
“Okay,” she said, and went straight for the caffeine.
Since he had a cup already filled with coffee near him by the stove, she assumed the extra one on the counter was for her and poured the steaming brew into the mug. She added a spoonful of sugar from the glass dish he’d set out and a dollop of creamer to smooth out the taste.
She took a few sips, savoring the bold flavor before asking, “Can I help you with anything?”
“No. Sit at the counter.” He pointed a finger toward the nearby kitchen nook area. “The bacon is almost crisp, and after that I’ll scramble some eggs. Is that an acceptable breakfast for you?”
“Yes. Of course,” she said, sliding onto one of the chrome and leather stools. “I’m not a fussy eater.”
“Good to know.” He removed the bacon from the frying pan, then heated up a clean one with a slice of butter for the eggs. “There’s a pen and pad of paper right there in front of you. Make a list of what you like to eat, and anything else you want or need, and I’ll get it ordered and delivered later today.”
Ahh, the ease of online shopping. She picked up the pen and jotted down a few of her favorite snacks and things she could make for her lunches to take to work, which she needed to talk to him about at some point. She might be indebted to him for the foreseeable future, but she still had obligations and commitments to fulfill.
“Other than breakfast, do you have anyone who cooks for you or provides meals?” she asked curiously.
“No.” He poured a bowl of beaten eggs into the buttered pan. “I have a housekeeper who comes in once a week on Thursdays, but when it comes to cooking, I’m pretty self-sufficient.” He looked her way with a slight, rare smile. “And if I’m not in the mood to make something myself, there’s always Grubhub.”
Spoken like a true bachelor, she thought in amusement. “I’d like to make dinners if that’s okay?” she asked, because it was something she enjoyed. “I’m pretty creative and I’m used to cooking for myself and Father on a regular basis, so I might as well make myself useful here.”
Another deliberate glance her way revealed eyes that were dark and hot as they dropped to her mouth. “Bella, I’ll make sure you’re plenty useful,” he murmured huskily.
She shivered, and it wasn’t with trepidation, but anticipation. Her traitorous nipples tightened against the T-shirt she wore, and he smirked as his brazen gaze lowered and noticed her body’s reaction. God, she was absolutely shameless when it came to this man, and at least the attraction was completely mutual.
He returned his attention to their breakfast and scooped some of the scrambled eggs onto two separate plates, one of the dishes heaped double the size of the other serving for himself, along with strips of bacon.
“I’ll be sending two of my security guys to collect your things from your father’s. They should be here by this afternoon,” he said, changing the subject. “If there is anything that is missing once your personal effects arrive, let me know and I’ll make sure it’s retrieved.”
He set a dish in front of where she was sitting, while he remained standing on the other side of the counter, facing her. She picked up her fork and pushed it through her fluffy eggs. “I can always go by myself and collect what I need.”
“No.” His voice was adamant, as was the implacable gleam in his eyes. “While you’re under my authority, you may call and talk to your father on the phone, but any visits with him or to your home will be supervised.”
Startled by the vehemence in his tone, she blinked at him. “Why?”
“Because I don’t trust him to be alone with you,” he replied succinctly. “And right now, until I decide differently, you’re mine.”
She opened her mouth to argue how ridiculous that demand was, but he gave his head a firm shake and cut her off. “My rules, Bella,” he said, his voice a low, uncompromising growl. “And you will abide by them.”
She bristled at his boorish attitude. If he expected her to turn into
a meek and passive female at the snap of his fingers, he was about to learn, if he hadn’t already, that her small stature didn’t mean she was docile. “And if I don’t?” she dared.
He slowly set his fork down on his plate as the corner of his mouth curled into a wicked smile that was both a threat and a promise. “Then it would be my pleasure to punish you accordingly. Don’t underestimate the persuasion of a good, hard spanking, Bella. Trust me, the burn of my handprint on your smooth, bare ass will be a stark reminder for days of why it’s not in your best interest to defy me.”
Gulp. Her face flamed and she stared at him wide-eyed, stunned to realize that the thought of being bent over his lap and feeling the smack of his palm against her tender flesh actually made her squirm restlessly on the barstool. Holy crap, was she one of those women who’d enjoy being dominated by a man sexually? Or got off on experiencing a little pain with their pleasure? She couldn’t deny the images in her head definitely aroused her.
“Any other issues with my orders?” he asked calmly as he took a bite of his crispy bacon, his too casual attitude belying the undercurrents of lust flowing between them. “Or maybe you’d like to sass me one more time and find out what I’d like to do to that warm, lush mouth of yours to remind you who is in charge here?” he challenged.
She absently bit her bottom lip, which, in hindsight, probably wasn’t the smartest idea considering how avidly he was staring at her mouth just hoping she’d oppose him. God, what did it say about her that she was tempted to issue a smart-ass remark just because she was curious to know what it was like to submit to such a powerful man? The thought of giving herself over to Maddux’s desires made her weak in the knees.
She smartly remained quiet, and he took her silence for compliance.
Maddux went back to eating his scrambled eggs, as if he hadn’t just turned her inside out with a shameless kind of wanting. “So, now that you understand the repercussions of defying me or any of my orders, here is your own personal key card to the building and the elevator,” he said, putting the credit-card-like piece of plastic next to her on the counter that already had her name on it. “When you use the key card, it will notify me when you come and go from the penthouse or the building and what floors you might stop on with the elevator. Tempest and Hunter live on the two levels below mine, and if they aren’t home or don’t want visitors, they can lock out their floor, as can I.”
All Arabella could think about was the fact that this key card essentially had a tracker on it. And why not, since MadX-Tech was the king of all things security? “So, basically you’ll be stalking me?” she asked wryly.
“No, not stalking,” he replied, unoffended by her comment. “I’m going to keep track of you, because you’re an asset and I always protect what’s mine, Bella. You’re no exception.” Finished with his breakfast, he pushed his empty plate aside.
“And what about work?” she asked, feeling more exasperated by his restrictions, even though she’d willingly signed up for this. “I have a job and I don’t want to give it up.” She’d go stark raving mad if she had to sit around in this pristine penthouse castle all day and night.
“I wouldn’t expect you to give up your position as a digital data analyst and curator at the university library,” he said, stunning her with the fact that he knew her job description and where she was employed. “You’ll be assigned a private security detail who will be with you at all times when you leave this building, and he’ll make sure you’re dropped off safely at work and picked up when you’re done, as well. He’ll report directly to me.”
“That is ridiculous and unnecessary,” she said, the irritable words slipping from her before she could censor them.
He arched a brow and crossed his arms over his chest, his stance more imposing now. “This isn’t a negotiation, sweetheart. If you don’t like my rules, you’re free to leave.”
Maddux’s comment was casual, but it was the hard look in his eyes that told Arabella that if she walked out, her father’s life would collapse as a result, and she wasn’t ready or willing to take that chance. She’d knowingly traded her life for her father’s, and this unsparing man in front of her wouldn’t let her go without exacting some kind of vengeance from her father in return.
“Okay, fine.” She pasted on a fake smile, but her annoyance remained and she couldn’t keep it from seeping into her voice. “Your rules, your way, Mr. Wilder. Got it.” She even saluted him for good measure. “Maybe you might even want to inject me with one of those human tracking devices just to be on the safe side.”
Her deliberate impudence made his golden-brown eyes flare with something so searingly hot and purposeful it stole her breath and sent warning signals throughout her body.
“Last night I thought I was dealing with a sweet, compliant female. But today this impertinent mouth of yours is pushing all my fucking buttons,” he murmured, shaking his head as he slowly rounded the counter toward her, each step ratcheting up her rapidly beating pulse, especially when she caught sight of the solid, immense column of flesh outlining the front of his jeans.
Clearly, the buttons she was pushing were purely sexual ones.
When he stood next to Arabella, he grabbed her chin between his fingers and tipped her head back so she was forced to look into his blazing eyes. “I seriously think your mouth is begging to be taught what happens when you push and provoke a man who has no issue disciplining insubordination,” he said, sliding his thumb up a few inches and pushing it between her parted lips until it invaded her mouth and rubbed erotically against her tongue. “I’ve already warned you once this morning, and what you don’t seem to understand is that my dick would be more than happy to provide that lesson, Bella.”
She made a soft, inarticulate sound in the back of her throat, and the beat of her heart skyrocketed in her chest, but it was the ache between her legs that had her instinctively, seductively closing her lips around his thumb and grazing her teeth against the pad of his finger.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his jaw clenching tight with carnal hunger as he withdrew his finger from her damp mouth and buried his fist tight in her hair instead. “Get on your knees, Bella. Right here, right now, and part those pretty lips for me.”
Chapter 9
Arabella sucked in a startled breath. It wasn’t a dare, or even a suggestion. His explicit words were a blatant, aggressive demand that jolted through her like a touch of electricity that was connected straight to her sex. Oh, God, she’d instigated this, had pushed him when she knew the repercussions because he’d made them very clear. And now she was caught in a web of her own doing and had a choice to make, and not a whole lot of time to decide judging by the impatience flashing across his features.
Even knowing she had the ability to say no and trusting that he’d back off and let her go, a very wanton and curious part of her wanted to please him, and she didn’t question her feelings or the need to give him what he wanted. She wasn’t sure what that said about her when she’d never been so brazen before, but just as she made the decision to obey, a chiming sound echoed throughout the apartment.
Maddux cursed vividly and immediately let go of her hair, though he pinned her with a stern look. “Don’t fucking move.”
Confusion rippled through her, but as soon as she spotted two people strolling into his penthouse from his elevator a few seconds later, she realized that with Maddux standing beside her, she at least covered his erection from the man and woman heading their way, giving him time to cool down.
Obviously, he hadn’t locked out his floor from any unwanted guests or interruptions. Then again, she doubted that Maddux had intended to proposition her right there in the kitchen.
They both looked similar enough to Maddux for her to assume these two were the siblings he’d mentioned, Tempest and Hunter. Gorgeous, perfectly symmetrical features and thick dark hair ran in the family, as did those golden-brown eyes . . . which were aimed curiously at her. No sign of hostility, which led her to believe that Maddux
hadn’t informed his brother and sister who she was yet. She was certain the fallout wasn’t going to be pretty.
“You didn’t tell us you had an overnight guest,” the other man said, his voice reserved as he took in the large T-shirt she still wore, which obviously belonged to Maddux. “Maybe Tempest and I should come back later to hear the details on Theodore?”
Maddux shook his head. “She isn’t the kind of guest you’re insinuating,” he corrected his sibling, who’d pegged her as a one-night stand or something similar. Her captor exhaled a deep breath before saying, “This is Arabella Cole.”
Maddux didn’t beat around the bush, and that announcement changed everything. Tempest gasped in shock, and Hunter’s entire body stiffened as he now glared at Arabella as if she were persona non grata, which she supposed she was. Jesus, her father had clearly done such emotional damage to all of them.
Tempest glanced from Arabella to her brother, her gaze swirling with confusion. “Maddux . . . what’s going on?”
“Clearly, we need to talk,” Hunter snapped heatedly before Maddux could reply.
“Yes, we do,” Maddux agreed gruffly, and jerked his head toward the opposite side of the apartment. “In my office.”
Maddux started in that direction, and Hunter and Tempest followed, but not before his brother shot violent daggers at her with his rage-filled gaze, and though his sister’s disapproving frown wasn’t nearly as threatening, Arabella definitely felt their resentment.
She remained sitting on the barstool until she heard a door close. Maddux’s office must have been well insulated, because she couldn’t hear anything after that, not that she wanted to be privy to whatever heated conversation the trio were about to have about her.
Not sure what to do in the meantime, she cleared their breakfast plates, did all the dishes, and cleaned the kitchen stove and countertops. She went back to Maddux’s bedroom and made the bed, then picked her ball gown off the floor to hang it up. She was nothing if not neat and orderly, and that wouldn’t change just because she lived in someone else’s house.