Make Me, Sir

by Cherise Sinclair

  “You don"t want—”

  “I do want.” He took her hand, moved his grip to her undamaged forearm to remind her who was in charge, and pulled her to her feet. “I appreciate you letting me interrupt your morning, ma"am, sir.” Without releasing Gabi—she"d make a run for it, he knew—he politely shook hands with her stunned father.

  Then he simply dragged his insubordinate sub out of her parents" house.

  She tried to rebel again when he opened the car door for her. “Listen, this is not—I don"t want—”

  “Gabrielle.” He cupped her cheek and looked down into her velvety brown eyes.

  “Get. In. The. Car.”

  Gabi scrubbed her hands on her jeans and tried to show an impassive face as Marcus drove through the city. Didn"t he understand this wouldn"t work? Was he like some…some predator that gave chase if their prey ran from them?

  “If you keep all those thoughts inside, your brain will explode,” he said lazily.

  He steered the car to the curb and took her hand in his. “We can discuss this right now, or we can wait until after lunch and then have at it. Your only choice is when.”

  God, why did the determination in his deep voice turn her insides to liquid?

  She swallowed, wishing she saw a future for them. But look at him. In a suit, as always.

  Then again, the way he"d acted at her parents" house… He"d been rude to them. That wasn"t like him at all. I’m so confused. “Later. Please.”

  “All right, darlin".” He brushed her lips with a soft kiss, leaving her longing for more. After pulling a cell phone from his suit, he punched a number and a second later said, “We should get there in about thirty minutes.” The cell went back into his pocket.

  “Who was that?”

  “I thought since I"ve met your family today, you should meet mine. My grandparents will join us.”

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  What? She looked at her jeans and peasant top in horror, then stared at him.

  “Marcus, I"m not dressed for a nice restaurant.” Dear God, is he insane?

  His lips quirked. “I"m not sure if that"s a compliment or insult. You didn"t worry about your appearance when you thought it was only me for lunch.”

  Her mouth dropped open. She hadn"t, had she? “Ah…”

  “You no longer think I"ll judge you by what you wear. We"re making progress, I do believe.” He tugged at the puffy sleeve of her top, the elastic letting him pull it down to expose her shoulder. He kissed the bare skin and murmured, “As it happens, I rather like this top.”

  Great, her clothing was not only too casual, but the kind he"d want to play with. She pulled her sleeve up.

  He pulled it down.

  She was doomed.

  He was still smiling ten minutes later when he turned his car into a drive. She frowned at the sign. “We"re going to the Animal Kingdom?” Mr. Suit and Disney?

  “Are you allowed to live in Florida if you don"t like Disney?” He chuckled at the amazed look she gave him. At a guard station, he slowed to give his name and was waved on.

  Not long afterward, Gabi stared in wonder as they walked through the African-themed lobby of the Kidani Lodge and down a spiral staircase to the Sanaa Restaurant. Hanging baskets mingled with pottery-jar lamps. Colorful cloth hangings and beaded mosaics decorated the walls. Tree branches seemed to dissolve into the thatched ceiling. She stopped to stare. “This is amazing.”

  He smiled. “Wait until you see the view from the windows.” After slinging his gym bag over his shoulder, Marcus set his hand low on her back, guiding her toward a table where an older couple sat. His grandparents. In tan slacks and a short-sleeved shirt, the silver-haired man had keen eyes with a sunburst of wrinkles at the corners, a Roman nose, and a stern jaw. He rose as they approached.

  “Gabrielle, this is my grandfather, Ben Atherton, and my grandmother, Abby.”

  His grandmother had tousled white curls, softly wrinkled skin, and an infectious smile.

  Marcus kissed Gabi"s fingertips and finished, “And here is my very reluctant girlfriend, Gabi Renard.”

  Reluctant. She would kill him…somehow…the minute they were alone. “It"s nice to meet you both.”

  “Gramps,” Marcus said, “her father is William Renard, a lawyer with Thompson and Dunn International. You might have met him.”

  Ben"s bushy brows drew together. “I"ve made his acquaintance, although I don"t recall having him in front of my bench.”

  Marcus closed his hand around Gabi"s and murmured, “He doesn"t always sound like it, but Gramps was a judge before he retired.”

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  I complain about lawyers, so I get to eat lunch with a judge? This so isn’t fair.

  “Very into rules and regulations. Pretty narrow-minded, I thought.” Ben tilted his head at Gabi and gave a considering look. “If what my grandson says about you is true, I bet you had him fit to be tied, young lady.”

  Her mouth dropped for a second before she recovered. “Yes, I"m afraid I did.”

  “Please sit, everyone,” Abby said.

  Marcus seated Gabi and kissed her cheek. “I"ll be right back, sugar. I want to change.”

  And the bastard abandoned her without looking back.

  * * *

  After a quick change of clothing in the restroom, Marcus strode into the restaurant. When he saw Gramps sitting alone, he froze, then spotted Gabi at one of the giant windows with his grandmother. The two appeared mesmerized by the giraffe striding past. He let out a sigh of relief, realizing he"d been worried the little sub would flee. When Marcus sat down, his grandfather glanced at the two women a few feet away. “She"s polite, but she doesn"t intimidate worth a damn. I do believe I like her.”

  Marcus snorted. “You would. Unfortunately, the problem is getting her to stay.

  She thinks I"m the same type as her parents, and you"re right about his personality.

  Her mother is worse.”

  Gramps"s mouth flattened into a line. “Renard is a pompous bastard and wound up tighter than an eight-day clock. You"re nothing alike, son.”

  “Hopefully I can keep her around long enough to realize it.”

  “We ordered for you, by the way. Your young lady has an adventurous spirit, at least in foods.”

  The bread sampler had arrived before the two women returned to the table, laughing and chatting easily. Nana could put anyone at ease, and Marcus smiled.

  He kept realizing how much Gabi was like her.

  His sub"s eyes widened when she saw him. What? Oh, the clothes. After she sat down beside him, he leaned over to murmur into her ear, “I spend most of my time in jeans, sugar. Sorry to disappoint you.”

  She grinned. “You"re trying to destroy all my illusions, aren"t you?” She lowered her voice, “By the way, you have a fine ass. Sir.”

  He choked. And hardened instantly. He gave her a “you will pay” stare, and she actually giggled.

  When he looked up, Nana beamed at him in obvious approval. Well then. Now to win over his grandfather. If his grandparents approved, so would the rest of the Atherton clan. Marcus leaned back in his chair and smiled at Gabi. He"d bet her 234

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  previous Christmases had been formal, cold affairs. Dignified. When he took her to his parents" home in rural Georgia, she was in for a shock.

  “I"ve been admiring your hair, Gabi,” Nana said. “As it happens, I"m thinking of putting a few pink or green streaks in mine just to shock the ladies in my bridge club.”

  Marcus"s mouth dropped open, and Gramps sputtered like a badly tuned engine.

  “I think you"d shock more than just the ladies.” Snickering at the men, Gabi fingered the blue strand in her hair. “You"re braver than I am—I never planned to do something quite so permanent.”

  He"d thought she"d done it as a show of defiance—although the blue was rather odd, considering how she liked coordinating colors
. “So why did you?”

  “My job has unexpected…benefits.” She gave him a rueful look. “I went to see a teenager who"d had a…bad experience, but she refused to talk with me. Wanted me to leave. But then she said she"d planned to dye her hair.” Gabi"s eyes darkened.

  “It"s a girl thing, trying to change ourselves as if we can change our lives too.”

  Marcus took her hand. He"d have to ask someday how she"d changed herself as a teenager.

  “Anyway, I volunteered to help, and halfway through, I got enthused. When I smeared blue on my hair, well, she started to laugh and…” When Gabi"s fingers tightened on his, he knew the girl had talked and shared undoubtedly horrific memories with his compassionate woman. “We had a nice chat, and I discovered I rather like the blue. I went back last month to have her put some more in.”

  Yeah, he definitely loved this woman. He wanted to pull her into his arms; he settled for running a finger down her cheek.

  She gave him a suspicious frown. “What?”

  “You please me more than I can say, Gabi,” he said softly. A pretty pink colored in her cheeks. That first day he"d seen her, he"d known it would be a delight to watch her flush.

  “Um. Thank you.”

  Smiling, he handed her a piece of the traditional naan bread. She scooped up some hummus and took a bite. When she closed her eyes in pleasure, he remembered she"d had the same expression when sucking his cock, when he kissed her, when he bent her over… He shifted in his chair, needing to drag her to the hotel room he"d rented. Right now.

  Across the table, his grandfather exchanged amused smiles with Nana. Totally obvious, was he? He found he didn"t care in the least. But he had work to do here, and he might as well start off by killing two birds with one stone. “Gramps, do you remember the woman I introduced y"all to at the beginning of the summer? Celine?”

  Beside him, Gabi stiffened, her face turning poker bland as she sipped her drink. Nana, in contrast, appeared appalled at his rudeness at talking about a previous girlfriend.

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  “I remember her,” Gramps answered. “Sugar wouldn"t melt in her mouth.

  Spineless.”

  “Good description.” Marcus glanced at his little sub. Open shock. The first crack in her believing what Celine had said. Excellent. Now to confront it head-on.

  “She has a problem with honesty as well. Apparently she"s telling people we"re in a relationship and that I love her.”

  Gabi choked on her drink.

  “Ah, a witness? What did she tell you, darlin"?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I"m not on the stand, so watch it, Mr. Lawyer.”

  A snort of appreciation from Gramps.

  Marcus put a finger under her chin. “Tell me, Gabrielle.”

  “She told me you love her because she never gives you any back talk. Whatever you want is what she wants.”

  “You fancy a biddable woman?” his grandfather said in disbelief.

  Nana tsk-tsked at him. “Of course he doesn"t, dear. Now hush.”

  “Do you really think I"d enjoy someone I can walk all over?” Marcus asked, running a finger down her cheek. “Do you realize how boring that would be?”

  “But…” From her confused expression, that"s exactly what she believed.

  “I see. We"ll discuss that later then.” He let his anger with her show. “Do you think so little of me you believe I would”—the memory of his grandparent"s presence made him revise his language—“ah, take you home if I was involved with someone?”

  “No.” Her gaze dropped. “Not at first. But she said, straight out…”

  “She lied, Gabi.” Marcus leaned an elbow on the table. “A few dates doesn"t make a relationship, and aside from occasional scenes, I"d stopped seeing her well before you. She didn"t take the hint, so I told her, rather bluntly, a couple of weeks ago that I had no intention of doing…anything…with her again.”

  Brown eyes met his, and he saw her temper spark. “She lied to me? Out-and-out lied?”

  Marcus smothered his smile. “I"m afraid so, sugar.”

  Her growl sounded like a higher version of Nolan"s.

  Gramps slapped his hand on the table. “So what are you going to do about this woman?”

  “You have any suggestions, Gabi?”

  She thought for a moment, and her lips curved. “Whatever you want is what she wants…so what if you wanted her to spend an evening with Ma—” She cut the word off and flushed slightly. “With Sam?”

  Marcus stared at her, then roared with laughter. “You possess an evil mind, little brat.”

  “Is Sam ugly or something?” Nana asked.

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  “No. Actually Sam"s a very nice guy, but he has a rather well-known kinky side.” Marcus winked at Gramps. “He"s a hard-core sadist, Nana, and he has a fondness for whips.”

  Gramps barked a laugh.

  Nana"s eyes widened. “My goodness, how do you meet such interesting people?”

  She tapped a finger against her lips, then nodded, shocking him—and Gabi—

  completely. “That would be a fine predicament to put her in, bless her heart, and an appropriate consequence for her lying.”

  Marcus smiled at Gabi. “Means you"ll need to come to Tampa for the show, darlin".”

  “I…I…” She averted her eyes. “You know, we should eat while the food is still warm, don"t you think?”

  Well, he might have won a battle, but obviously the war was not yet won.

  * * *

  The time with Marcus"s grandparents had been wonderful, Gabi thought, as Marcus opened the door to his hotel room. Damn, they were fun. His grandmother volunteered at various Tampa wildlife rescue groups, had tried to draft Gabi into helping, and been disappointed to hear she lived in Miami.

  In contrast, his opinionated, pushy grandfather had deliberately prodded Gabi with idiotic statements, rather like poking a stick at a caged monkey. Finally when he"d complained about the money going to health insurance for children, she"d lost her temper and ripped his logic to shreds. He had a roaring laugh almost as wonderful as Marcus"s. After he caught his breath, he"d told Marcus, “She"ll do.”

  They liked me. Yes, most people did, but she"d never expected approval from Marcus’s family.

  And Marcus hadn"t acted stuffy at all. He"d held his own with his grandfather, bantered with his grandmother, and every time he laughed, heat streaked down her spine.

  “C"mon in, sugar,” Marcus said, holding the door open for her.

  “I can"t believe you took a room in a Disney resort.” The African decor continued in the room, with warmly golden tones, wood carvings, and bright patterns on the bed—the very big bed. She looked away.

  “Since you like the panthers at that cat rescue place so much, I thought you"d enjoy this.”

  He"d remembered. Warm fuzzies edged aside some of her nerves.

  After pouring two glasses of wine, he walked onto the balcony. “Come here, darlin". Let"s talk.”

  Just like that, she felt as if someone had wrapped a big hand around her throat, cutting off her voice. Her feet wouldn"t move until he curled his finger up in a “come here” motion.

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  Fine. They really did need to get this over with. She joined him on the balcony, sipped the smooth pinot noir, and pretended to watch the animals on the grassland.

  Talk. How could she make him understand? Even if he thought he wanted her, he didn"t. He wouldn"t. She mustn"t let him push her into something he"d regret.

  “What are we talking about?” she asked lightly. The low murmur of conversation came from other balconies, a little boy yelled in frustration, someone had their music turned to a loud rock station.

  Marcus frowned and shook his head. “This isn"t going to work.”

  Her hopes that should never have arisen drained away when he pushed her back into
the room and closed the balcony door. “Okay.” Her voice didn"t shake.

  Much. “I didn"t think it would.” She set her glass on the small table in the sitting area.

  He tilted his head in puzzlement and then smiled, grabbing her hand as she headed for the door. “No, darlin", I mean we can"t talk on the balcony. There"s too many people around. And you don"t appear capable of rational discussion at this point.”

  “What?”

  “We"ll try irrational first.” He grasped the bottom of her blouse and pulled it over her head. Before she got past “Marcus!” her bra followed the top onto the floor.

  “What are you doing?”

  He chuckled, ignoring her attempts to keep him from yanking down her jeans zipper. “What do you think?”

  “This…this isn"t talking.”

  “Sure it is. Now just stand right there, sugar.”

  When she stepped back instead, his frown and the stern set of his jaw stopped her cold. She"d learned to obey the trainer far too well. Before she collected her resolve, he"d removed her jeans and thong.

  “Marcus…” She forced the words out. How had she let this go so far? “This isn"t a good idea.”

  He stepped closer, touching her cheek lightly with his fingertips. “I missed you, Gabi.”

  The open emotion in his low voice shook her, the pull toward him as hard to fight as a riptide. “No,” she whispered.

  “You are appallingly stubborn,” he said under his breath. He tugged her hair and stepped back.

  She hauled in a breath.

  “So let"s have a look at you.” His gaze ran down her body, leaving a wake of heat in its path; then his eyes darkened. He brushed a finger over the black bruise on her left breast. “How did this happen?”