F*ck Toy: A Dominatrix Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Sybil Swift

  “Uh, I’m not sure what I can do, really, um, yeah…” Noah trailed off and coughed into his fist. “Let me go back into the office.”

  Before she could ask anything else of him, Noah shoved up from the chair hard enough to make his knees crack and he winced, nearly brought down like a felled tree by the sharp pain. He shook it off, unable to meet her gaze. Instead he walked down the main hallway toward the office with her eyes glued to him, practically a laser through his spine. When he shut the door to the office, he threw himself into the creaky, peeling and cracked leather office chair and steepled his fingers. He needed a moment to breathe, to think, to form a plan that he could translate into sentences and repeat as many times as needed before he’d hopefully get them right.

  But no matter what he said, it wouldn’t be the right thing. There was no way to fix an error like this, at least not without bothering his sister, Judy, while she was on her vacation. Sure, she was his best friend, but that didn’t mean he could rip away her hard earned tranquility. One phone call would set her off like a geyser of rage. He scrubbed his palms over his face, pushing the chair back and forth with one foot on the floor as it tilted and his jaw clicked together. There had to be a better way to avoid the whole mess. He had to keep her here.

  “Man up, use your big boy voice, and be a persuasive son of a bitch.” The verbal pep talk only made his mouth dry, throat constricted as he tried to swallow and failed. “Flip the switch.”

  Chapter Three

  “I’ve got to go. I can’t stay here.”

  “I don’t mean to put my foot in my mouth, but you’re in no shape to go to the bathroom, let alone leave. That must have been some night you had last night, if it made you pass out. If I were you, I’d at least consider staying the night to rest up for the trip to wherever the hell you came from.”

  “No, thank you. I just need to find my bags.”

  “Uh, I unpacked them in one of our guest bedrooms last night. I figured when you woke up you wouldn’t want to bother with it and that’s normally what the professional staff do when this place is in season.”

  Oookaaay. It was getting harder and harder to keep her cool. Her stomach gurgled and her hands drifted over her abdomen as if to quiet it. He’d pawed through her clothes—a stranger she wasn’t even on a first name basis with—and she had no clue what her mother had packed before stuffing her into the town car. Nightmares of lacy frilly thongs, or worse, plain cotton, high-waist support panties flew through her thoughts.

  The best thing to do was to go downstairs, throw everything back in her luggage, and leave. Though, first came calling a cab, because she had no idea how prevalent they were out here, or how far they had to drive in order to arrive at their destination.

  She charged downstairs noticing that where’d she’d come in the night before held several guest rooms. She poked her head into a few before finding her purse on a shabby chic, white wicker night table next to a fluffy, king sized bed. After several seconds of rooting in her purse her guts twisted tighter than a tightrope. She took a heavy seat on the bed.

  “You’re a real winner, Chloe,” she sighed loud enough to make any Emo fanatic proud.

  “What do you need?”

  Were men genetically incapable of knowing when women needed their space?

  And now she was being an ass, even if it was in her own head. No excuses. Her mouth tightened into a thin line, but when she met his eyes she forced a smile, knowing she didn’t need to be snippy because he wasn’t a mind reader.

  “By any chance do you have a phone I could use to call a cab? I left mine in the town car last night. And, is there a name I could call you by, you know, to thank you?”

  “My name’s Noah.”

  “Thank you, Noah.”

  “I wouldn’t be thanking me yet. You’re really not going anywhere tonight or probably for the next several days. Polly doesn’t believe in telephones.”

  “So what happens when there’s an emergency around here? How do you call anyone for help?”

  “We normally try not to have emergencies. If things get really bad I can walk three miles down the road to a pay-phone.”

  “What if you can’t walk?”

  “What if?”

  “Well, I’m sure you’re willing to give me a lift to a bus station or airport. Anything really. I’ll pay you—”

  “I really don’t need the money.”

  He leaned against the side of the doorjamb running a hand through his curls and shot her a grin that stood the hairs on the back of her neck up on end. There was no doubt in her mind that if she had been in the mood for a rebound—Noah was a fine choice.

  “I’m going to pack up, walk the three miles, and catch myself a ride out of here.”

  “You sure you want to do that? Fee to get in here isn’t exactly cheap.”

  “Not like I paid it.”

  “True, but are you in a hurry to confront the person that packed you in a car like a toddler and sent you here to confront whatever emotional bogeymen are haunting your head? Wouldn’t it be easier to pass the time here? If only to get some satisfaction from the high fee another person will be paying for your time?”

  Chloe muddled over his thinking, because she had to admit—as much as she wanted out of here and back to her predictable life—some kind of revenge against her overprotective, crazy mother sounded damn good. Maybe she’d only been trying to help in her misguided way, but sending her to relationship rehab?

  “I think I’ll be extending my stay for a week. Can you change the charges?”

  “I’ll make the call to your benefactor right now.”

  “You just said there aren’t any phones,” she gritted incredulously through her teeth.

  “I wanted you to consider all your options before running out on me. There’s an office here. How do you think we run the place? Morse code?”

  “So you lied to me?”

  “Sorry,” he mumbled, coughing into his fist.

  “Seriously? That’s all you’ve got?”

  “Do you still want me to make the call?”

  Despite the fire burning in her gut, she wanted to know more about him.

  “Lie to me again and I’m out of here.”

  “Okay, I get it. I didn’t mean it like that. Really, I’m sorry.” His hand squeezed her shoulder before dropping away and she met his frowning expression with one of her own. His eyes behind his glasses flicked away and then back—regret was palpable when he swallowed, flexing his fingers at his sides.

  “Make the call. I need to get out of the city for a good long while anyway.”

  “At least we’ve got more pancakes.”

  Noah chuckled, a rich sound that made Chloe think of crackling logs in a fireplace and a warm, chocolaty drink. But he didn’t wait for any kind of answer. Instead he vaulted up the stairs three at a time—while whistling. She flung herself back on the bed, arms akimbo.

  Another flash of Eric’s face—his normally laughing blue eyes as pitying as if he’d kicked a puppy. He was only supposed to be away for a week for work. But the business men in China had really liked him and corporate had kept him until their legal clients we’re satisfied. Three months had gone by since they’d put him up in a penthouse suite for the immediate future. He always called, sent sweet love letters or emails, and Eric never forgot one stupid holiday.

  Except for yesterday, Valentine’s Day, when she’d asked for an early face to face video chat and Eric had signed on like normal—with an odd, jittery look and his nervous, throat clearing gesture. He’d closed his eyes, breathed out. She’d chalked his weirdness up to a bad day, about ready to say something to let him know she was on the call.

  Until her fiancée had leaned back in his computer chair and she’d gotten a glance at the brunette between his legs, her slim, Hello Kitty manicured hands gripping his naked hips. His hand threaded through her hair with a low moan. Needless to say, Eric had been engaged in more oral action than on their video chat—and she’d
made him call their relationship quits that very second.

  Chloe slipped her palms across her face and exhaled with a whoosh.

  She shouldn’t spare one more thought for the prick that’d left her high and dry after she’d shared more than six years of her life with him. But the idea that his dalliance wasn’t a onetime thing—Chloe shuddered and dug her nails into the bedspread.

  “Consider that your last recollection of the past.”

  With a reserve of energy she didn’t feel, Chloe bounded up from the bed. Not the best idea, considering her brain’s penchant for rattling around in her skull the minute she moved because of her hangover. Maybe she could get Noah to make a Bloody Mary to take the edge off before she left? Chloe climbed the plush carpeted stairs back up into the living room.

  “Since it looks like we’ll be spending a bit of time together, care to enlighten me on why you took a reservation when it’s off season and your sister wasn’t even here to run it?”

  Chloe sat back across from him and took a slow drink of her juice, using the added time to get a closer look at his slightly freckled face. Cute. Whatever attraction rose up tightening her throat she quickly squashed it down. A man had gotten her here in the first place. If it wasn’t for her mother’s penchant for psychological healing, without the aid of television and a quart of ice cream—she would be surrounded by piles of good books, take-out, and new workout DVD’s she wouldn’t attempt to use for a solid month.

  When Noah caught her watching him, she deflected her stare to the bookcase behind his head, cringing at the A to Z self-help tomes. When she came out of rehab she might have more of a complex than when she went in last night.

  “Didn’t feel like turning down company. Plus I could use the extra hands around the house getting the place weatherproofed for hurricane season.”

  Chloe had to cover her mouth to keep from shooting citrus out of her nose.

  “Nice plan, right?” He waggled his dark brows and took another bite of bacon.

  “You purposely let me come here because you were looking for a playmate while you babysat the house?”

  “You’re much more fun than building model cars and searching for the meaning of life.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Plus, I won the genetic jackpot. You’re quite the looker,” he said it offhand, meeting her eyes, and winking with darkness in his gaze that left nothing to imagination.

  “What are you, sixty years old?”

  “That was a compliment, in case you’ve never heard one.”

  “Yeah, great going, complimenting a woman who probably just got out of a debilitating relationship, is emotionally vulnerable, and ready to kick some ass. What a charmer you are, Noah.”

  He cleared his throat, picked up his plate, and headed toward the kitchen. Despite her resolve to let his comment slide off her back, she’d opened her big mouth. But more than anything she wished she could close her eyes to get the image of his fine ass out of her mind as the swinging door closed behind him. Pathetic didn’t cover it. She needed another dictionary definition. What were the odds of finding a dictionary in this house?

  Was she even thinking about staying? The idea was idiotic at best. In a house with a total stranger in the middle of nowhere for any span of time—when did that choice go from you’re crazy, to eh, it’s workable? The fact that she managed to miss kind of a big decision when she was the one making the choice in the first place made her feel like she’d come to the right place for her discombobulated mental state. Yet…she trusted her gut. There was something to women’s intuition and Noah didn’t scream psycho killer. Of course, she didn’t think they made a t-shirt for that type of thing. But either way her first layer of apprehension peeled back with the knowledge that she had basic knowledge of self-defense and there were plenty of knick-knacks around the house to double as weapons should the need crop up.

  It would be an adventure, right? He wasn’t keeping her here. She could leave and walk away—literally—at any time.

  “Oh, by the way—”

  Noah stuck half his body through the swinging door, large fingers splayed across the pastel green paint. He licked his lips, mouth shaping into a wolfish grin that left her fingers twisting together in her lap. Noah raised one of his hands in the air.

  “One, I’ve been told I’m not relationship material. Two, I’m great rebound sex in case there isn’t anything else in this boarded up hole to occupy your mind. And last, but not least, if you want to kick my ass on behalf of my species that’s all well and good—I’m a gentleman, I’ll let you—but you bet your sweet ass you’ll be playing nursemaid afterward. And that’s with the kinky outfit, or no deal.”

  There were no words. Chloe sat there without a single retort even close to her mouth. Was he kidding? Before she could regain her senses he’d popped his head back into the kitchen, and water ran in a loud rush. Almost, but not quite, blocking out the joy in his gruff laughter as it echoed through the door. Gentleman, yeah that was a joke. He was a gentleman like Rhett Butler wasn’t a cad—and Rhett was the best bad boy of ‘em all.

  She should know, she’d only watched that movie over a hundred times growing up because it had the prettiest cover in her mother’s old movie collection. No matter what, Rhett was a cad. And, though she tried not to be flustered, Noah gave off the same swarthy I-know-what-you-look-like-without-your-clothes-on vibe.

  So what if she’d tried a relationship with the solid, wet-blanket, Ashley type and that hadn’t exactly worked out? That didn’t mean a damn thing.

  “Plan on throwing me any other fastballs? Or are we not speaking because I dared to mention how beautiful your smile is and hurt your girl power pride?”

  His voice shook her out of her reverie.

  “You haven’t even seen me fully smile.”

  “I’ve seen the ghost of one. Maybe if we keep playing this “getting to know each other” game I’ll get to see more. What do you think?”

  He wiped his damp hands on his jeans leaving dark smudges that led Chloe’s eye elsewhere. She crossed her arms, determined to pay attention to the hideous, metal deep sea fish sculpture on the wall.

  “I think that you haven’t given me jack squat to go off of in terms of getting to know you. I also think, Noah, that it’s probably in your best interest to start chatting, otherwise these hands might not feel like working.”

  “Please tell me those hands will be doing other, more delightful things,” he practically purred, clutching his heart. “Oh, also, unless you’re a shrink, there isn’t much else to do around here. No radios or TV. Consider yourself promoted to first foreman. Better than reading the self-help crap, right?”

  “Oh will you can it? Jesus, I’m not sleeping with you!”

  He shrugged, making the move mean far more than it should have, while also showing off the hard muscles in his chest.

  “I never really asked, did I?”

  She couldn’t help it—she made a pure noise of frustration and glared sharp, lethal icepicks his way. What did he do? Only the second most infuriating thing ever after all his cheesy come-on’s. Noah threw up his hands in front of his body making a mocking face filled with fake terror. Eyes wide, mouth an “o,” he sprinted to the corner folding his large frame until he cowered hiding his face in between his knees. Heaven help her, a bubble of laughter floated out through her mouth and broke into pieces.

  You’re hopeless.

  Noah peeked his head out from his lap with a goofy grin.

  “That impressed you, huh? Didn’t know your host took several unwanted years of drama in high school in order to make up for failing math grades. Pretty genius performance, wasn’t it? Might have won me an Oscar.”

  Well, there was her first tidbit into the brain of her new hot—er, host. When Noah stood up from his crouch he quickly stretched his arms up above his head, leaving a delectable piece of pale flesh with a smattering of dark, treasure trail hair leading beneath his jeans. Chloe snapped her eyes away and
thinned her lips pretending to adjust on the coach and folding her legs up under her.

  “You’re getting better.”

  “At what?”

  “Nothing. You ready for your lesson on how we’re going to work together to keep this place in tip-top shape?”

  “Do I get to say no?”

  He made an obnoxious beeping noise in the back of his throat that sounded like a game show buzzer.

  “Wrong answer. But you do get handy demonstrations, your own tool belt, and dinner tonight if you do a good job.”

  “Do I get a gold star, too?”

  “I can probably figure something out for you.”

  Noah snatched her hand, a shock to her system tightening all the muscles in her upper arm. His warm palm engulfed her whole hand. Was this what it had been like when he’d carried her inside last night? Had she folded up in his arms like she fit? She swallowed and met his serious look.

  “Come on, I’ve got a whiteboard downstairs.”

  Chloe couldn’t deny his excitement. When he pulled her up and raced them down the stairs she followed—telling herself it was only because he would have dragged her anyway. But when he pulled her into a spare bedroom, it had been converted into an office with a white board that took up three of the four walls, her mind was boggled. Not one inch of board was free.

  “You’ve been busy.”

  Chloe took in the myriad of checklists, bullet points, and definitions scrawled in a neat sloping hand. One of the notations caught her eye. The roof needed fixing? He wanted her up on a slope a million feet in the air? Oh, that was priceless. With a careful eye she tried to stuff the overload of information into her brain.

  “You need to be trained.”

  Noah took a seat in the office chair, swiveling his body around a few times before he came to a full stop with his long legs stretched out. His hands were laced together in the middle of his chest, while he regarded her with an expression she couldn’t quite place—and probably didn’t want to think too hard. She went back to studying the notations.

  “This is almost everything you need to know about construction and what we’ll be doing as early as tonight. Think you can handle it all?”