by Marie Force
“I’m happy for you.”
“I’m happy for me, too.”
“Are there pictures of this new man?”
“Of course.” Marlowe pulls her phone from her back pocket and scrolls through, her face going soft with pleasure at whatever she’s seeing. Damn, she has it bad for this guy. She hands over the phone to me. The photo is of the two of them together, wearing big smiles. The guy is gorgeous, with dark wavy hair and stunning blue eyes.
“Whoa. He’s beautiful.”
“I know. It’s sort of intimidating to be with a guy who looks like that first thing in the morning.”
She’s in such a great mood that I decide to bite the bullet regarding Emmett. “So, while we’re on the subject of men and dating, it seems that I’m seeing someone, too.”
“Emmett, right?”
My mouth falls open in shock. She already knows? Did he tell her?
She lets loose with the big ringing laugh that made her a star. “Do you honestly think you’ve been fooling anyone with the way you stare at him or that he’s succeeded in hiding the way he stares right back at you?”
I swallow hard. Yes, I thought I was doing a rather great job of hiding my massive crush from the others. And he stares at me? I didn’t know that. “I guess I’m not the actor you are.” I can feel my face getting red.
“It’s okay. I get it. He’s hot.”
“Ridiculously. But I understand that it’s not really appropriate…”
She waves her hand dismissively. “I trust you both to be professional at work, and if things don’t work out, to keep it out of here.”
My heart sinks at the possibility of it not working out. “Of course.”
“Then I don’t see a problem—and congratulations. He’s a great guy, and he’s lucky to have you. I think you’ll be good for him. He doesn't talk about it, but he’s had a rough go of it at times.”
I want to beg her to tell me what she means, but I know she never will. There’s no way she’d ever betray his trust. And besides, I’d never ask her to.
“He seems… Reluctant to get involved.”
She nods. “He would be.”
Why? I want to ask so badly. But I don’t. I’m going to have to ask him. But will he tell me?
“Just be patient with him. I think you two could be amazing together.”
“Really?” That this incredible, accomplished woman thinks I’d be amazing with her friend is overwhelming to say the least.
“Absolutely. He’s so serious all the time. You’ll put some sunshine into the dark corners inside him.” She checks the time on her phone. “Oh crap. I’ve got to run. Hair appointment and then nails. Got to be presentable for the festivities this weekend.”
Of course I already know her schedule, but I don’t remind her of that. Before she leaves, I fill her in on the conversation I had with the guy organizing the benefit and watch as her eyes narrow with displeasure.
“I let him know that shit’s not going to fly,” I add.
Marlowe’s smile stretches across her face and makes her eyes dance with delight. “Go get ’em, tiger.”
I roll my eyes at her. “You want me to tell them you’re not available for the benefit?”
“Nah, I’ll do the gig, but I’ll have a talk with him beforehand to let him know what he’d better not say if he ever wants my help again. Thanks for the heads-up.”
“No problem.”
“Okay, I’m off. Text if you need me.”
“Enjoy the pampering.”
“Oh, I will.”
She goes to an exclusive salon in Malibu where she’s tended to in a private area, which she prefers to people coming to her home. Before I worked for her, it never occurred to me that for someone like Marlowe, everything she does has to be planned in advance to ensure she’s safe from the paparazzi, not to mention the adoring public that think nothing of interrupting her private life. She loves her fans and goes out of her way to accommodate them, but not when she has foils in her hair.
I spend the rest of the day focused, working my way through a long to-do list for Marlowe and helping Aileen sort a larger-than-usual mail delivery. Even though I keep busy, the day seems to drag. I don’t see Emmett again until five thirty when he walks by my office, gives a knock to the window and keeps moving.
My heart does a cartwheel at the sight of him and his not so subtle reminder that we have plans. I clean up my desk, grab my purse, phone and keys and head out, making sure he’s gone before I step into the lobby. Aileen has left to pick up her kids from school, so there’s no one there to see me leave right on time, which is a rarity around here. We’re so busy all the time that we can rarely finish a workday by the official five-thirty quitting time. But nothing could keep me at work late tonight when I have very important plans with the man I love.
I take the elevator to the lobby, and he’s there, waiting.
“Come with me.” He places his hand on a palm scanner that opens the right-side elevator.
“Where’re we going?”
With his hand on my lower back, he guides me into the elevator. “No talking unless you’re asked a question.”
The elevator doors close, and I swallow hard, filled with expectation and anticipation.
He keeps his hand on my back in the tense seconds it takes for the elevator to go down a level.
I want to ask him what’s down here, but I’m not allowed to ask anything, so I bite my tongue.
The elevator doors open into darkness.
Emmett takes my hand and leads me through double doors with the Q logo etched into the glass. He flips on the lights, revealing what looks like a nightclub at first glance. Then I see the large cross and the stage with something that resembles gym equipment, but that’s not what it is. A lightbulb goes on, and I realize that if the Quantum logo is on the door, that means… Oh my God.
I glance at him.
He’s watching me. “What do you want to know?”
“How do they keep this a secret?”
“Everyone who walks in this door is under an NDA. Members pay a one-million-dollar initiation fee.”
“Holy crap.” I take another long look around. “Are all of the Quantum team members?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
My mind is racing. Flynn, Natalie… Does Natalie participate in this scene? I try to picture Flynn as a Dominant, and… I can’t go there. He’s my friend’s husband.
“Want to play?” Emmett asks, pulling me out of my spinning thoughts and back to the present with him. “The club is closed until eight, so we have the place to ourselves.”
I’m not sure how I feel about playing with him here where people from our office come to hang out and do other… things. Even though the club is closed, any one of them could walk in and see us. “I… I think I’d rather go back to your place.”
“Let’s go, then.”
“Is that okay?”
“I’m the Dom, but you’re the boss.” He ushers me out of the club. “It’s a big deal that I showed you the club. I hope you understand—”
“I won’t say a word. I swear.”
In the parking lot, we go our separate ways.
“Don’t get lost,” he says as he walks away from me.
“No chance of that.”
I force myself to move slowly, not to run and risk tripping, not to speed or crash into the car in front of me. Let there be no delays to keep me from him any longer than necessary. As it is, it takes close to forty minutes to get to his place in Santa Monica, and I lose sight of his car after twenty minutes. I punch in the code for his garage, pull into my usual space—and yes, I love that I’m now a regular at his place—and head for the elevator. I’m so excited to see him that my heart is going crazy and every other part of me is zinging with the awareness that I’m seconds away from him.
When the elevator doors open, I step out and collide with him. Before I can register my surprise, he’s wrapped an arm around me and lifted me off my
feet to walk us both into his condo. He kicks the door shut behind him and lets me slide down the aroused front of him until my feet hit the floor. Hottest thing ever.
“Hello to you, too,” I say, amused by the enthusiastic greeting.
He’s removed his suitcoat and tie and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a hint of well-honed chest that has me licking my lips.
“I don’t like that skirt,” he says, interrupting my latest licking fantasy.
Startled by the comment, I say, “Why not?” He’s got my brain so scrambled that I have to look down to remember which one I’m wearing—black-and-white-polka-dot pencil skirt with a white peasant top that leaves one shoulder bare, showing off the black bra I’m wearing under it. I was rather proud of this outfit and the three-inch red pumps I wore with it. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Shows too much.”
I turn my head to try to see the back. “What’re you talking about? It covers me almost to my knees!”
He cups my ass and squeezes. “Shows. Too. Much.”
His possessiveness is the greatest turn-on I’ve ever experienced. “No one is looking at me.”
“Are you for real right now? Everywhere you go, guys look at you.”
“No, they don’t.”
“Yes, they do. I’ve seen it more times than I can count.” He leans in close to me, so close, his nose is a hair from mine. “I don’t like it.”
“It’s not my fault.”
“Yes, it is. You’re too sexy for your own good—and mine.”
“How is that my fault? Do you expect me to wear a burlap sack?”
“That would work for me.”
“I’m not sure what’s happening right now.”
“This is what you said you wanted—the real me. Here I am.”
Oh, so this is some sort of test. I get it now.
“You still want me?” The question is asked in the usual gruff tone, but there’s a hint of vulnerability to him that touches me deeply.
I don’t blink or hesitate. “Yes. What else you got?”
“So much more, but we need to get one thing clear right now. I want you to tell me that you know for sure I’d never hurt you in any way. You don’t need to ever be afraid of me. That’s very important to me.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it, Leah. We might get rough or wild in bed, and I may be bitchy, as you put it, but you’re never in any danger here. Do you really get that?”
“I do. I told you, I’m not afraid of you hurting me physically. I’m more afraid of you giving me this much and then deciding you don’t want me anymore.”
He takes my hand and places it over the hard ridge in his pants. “Feel that?”
As if I’ve been scalded by the heat of him under my palm, I say, “Uh, yeah?”
“Been like that since I kissed you in the office. Can’t get rid of it, can’t get the taste of you off my tongue, can’t stop thinking of how incredible last night was, can’t stop counting down to when I can touch you again. I had an appointment this afternoon with the doctor who stuck needles in my dick, and even then, I couldn’t stop thinking about you and how it felt to be inside you. There’s absolutely no chance I’m going to decide I don’t want you anymore. If anything, I’m afraid I want you too damned much.”
Is he really saying these things to me or am I dreaming this? I have to be dreaming, because nothing this amazing ever happens to me. And then I’m furious with myself because of the tears that flood my eyes.
“Aw, fuck, don’t do that. Do not cry.”
I reach for him and bring him down to me, kissing him with the wild, uncontrollable love I feel for him. As he responds with equal ardor, I realize in a moment of crystal clarity that I’ll never feel for anyone else what I do for him. I want everything with him. I withdraw slowly from the kiss. “Will you tell me why it’s so important to you that I never feel afraid of you?”
His jaw twitches with tension. “Maybe. Eventually.”
I can live with that. “What did the doctor say?”
“He couldn’t believe I had sex with my battered dick.”
“Did we make it worse?” I ask, horrified.
Shaking his head, he says, “He said if it doesn’t hurt, do what feels good. If it hurts, stop.”
“I have questions about the things you mentioned last night…”
“About me being kinky?”
I swallow hard and nod. “Wh-what if I can’t handle it?”
“Then you put a stop to it with one word. You say that word, it’s done. No questions asked.”
“And that wouldn’t make you mad?”
He puts his arms around me and hugs me so tightly, I worry he might break me. “No, it wouldn’t make me mad.”
“Disappointed?”
“Never.” He slides his fingers through my hair, something he seems to love to do, which is more than fine with me. “Some of the Doms I know need the domination to get off, you know? I like it. Hell, I fucking love it, but I don’t need it the way they do. So no, I wouldn’t be mad or disappointed if it’s not for you.”
“Could we try?”
Those lovely eyes of his are ablaze with desire. “Yeah, we can try. Is there anything that’s off-limits?”
“I don’t know what’s possible, so how can I know what’s off-limits?”
“We’ll talk about everything before it happens.”
“Okay.”
He cups my face in his big hands and gives me a long, measuring look, as if he’s deciding something. “Go in my room and get naked. I want you on the bed with your hands stretched over your head and your legs spread as far apart as you can get them. Then I want you to close your eyes. You’ll refer to me only as ‘sir’ in there, and you will speak only when spoken to. Any questions?”
As I shake my head, my entire body trembles as if I’ve been plugged into an electrical socket. I’m humming with sexual energy. In all my vivid fantasies about what it might be like to be intimate with Emmett, I never imagined anything like the words he just said to me. I turn and walk into his bedroom, aware of him watching me go, his gaze probably fixed on the skirt he thinks shows too much. I’ll never look at this skirt the same way again, after having seen it through his eyes.
My hands are shaking as I remove my clothes and step out of the heels. I fold down the comforter and get on the bed, arms over my head and legs spread wide. He hasn’t even touched me yet, and I’m already more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life.
As I wait for him, I tell myself this is what I wanted—him, any way I could have him. I just hope I can handle his way, because I’d never want to disappoint him. I want to be everything he needs.
Every muscle in my body trembles uncontrollably as anticipation wars with anxiety. My nipples are tight and my clit is throbbing.
I remember that I was supposed to close my eyes. The darkness seals me off from the reality of what’s happening but makes me more aware of my rapidly beating heart. It makes me aware of every cell in my body, or so it seems. I feel the blood pumping through my veins and the wetness between my legs. My scalp tingles and my belly flutters.
Where is he? How long will he make me wait? What will happen when he comes in here? I want him to be satisfied with me, but what if I just can’t do it?
God, I’m a mess, and we haven’t even done anything yet.
Chapter 13
I have a drink to settle myself before I go into the bedroom. The vodka works its way through my system, calming and centering me as I contemplate the most important scene I’ve ever done. This is the first time I’ve ever truly cared about my scene partner beyond the sexual aspect. I’m always a respectful, safety-oriented Dom, but it’s never about the emotion for me. This time is different. Everything with her is different, as much as I might’ve tried to deny that. I can’t deny it any longer.
She matters to me, and I want to make this as good for her as it’ll be for me. I want her to love being dominated in bed, even if I already know
she’s going to dominate me in life. Surrendering to the inevitable brings a certain measure of peace. Do I think she and I are forever? I don’t know, but we’re definitely something I want more of, and that’s enough for now.
She says she loves me, and I’m beginning to believe she means it. Leah doesn’t say things she doesn’t mean. I already know her well enough to know that for sure. Could I love her, too? Possibly, and that’s a huge concession for someone who’s gone out of his way to keep his dealings with women at the surface level, where no one can get hurt.
I rub the spot on my chest that aches when I think about her being bullied and disregarded by parents who were disappointed not to have a biological child. I hate that for her, even if I know all too well what it was like to have parents who barely noticed they had a kid. I had my grandmother. Who did Leah have?
The thought of her lonely and afraid and persecuted by her peers makes me fiercely protective. And then I remember the guy, Tom, who wouldn’t take no for an answer, and I want to roar with the need to keep her safe and secure and protected always. Maybe I could love her. Maybe I already do. If the intense feelings she arouses in me are any indication, I’m in deep trouble where she’s concerned.
I put my glass in the sink and take a minute to gather myself, to prepare for our scene, to focus entirely on her pleasure. I want it to be so good for her that she begs me for more.
My cock aches, but in a good way. The pain from the injury is all but gone, but the ache of my need for her is so intense, it has my full attention. Knowing she’s in my bed, spread out for me to feast upon, is the single most arousing thing I’ve encountered in a life full of sexual debauchery. Nothing I’ve done before can compare to what’s about to happen with her.
Moving stealthily, I go into my room, my heart stopping at the sight of her stretched out and open for whatever I might dream up. The sweet pink folds of her pussy glisten with her arousal. Dear God, she’s sexy and innocent and sweet and feisty. So fucking feisty, and I love that about her. I love her saucy mouth and the way she says whatever she thinks, that I never have to wonder where I stand with her or what’s on her mind. I go into my closet to get what I need.