Claiming

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Claiming Page 11

by Tara Sue Me


  Damn him for knowing her so well. She jerked away. “In one of your better dreams, maybe.”

  He ignored her barb. “I know because you make my blood race and my heart pound and I’m not going to ignore it forever.”

  She breezed past him and opened the door. “I don’t expect you to ignore it forever. Ignoring it for the next fifty years will suit me just fine.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. No need to walk me out. I know the way.” He hesitated at the door and turned back. “We were great together once, Meagan, and frankly, I think we’d be even better now. If you change your mind . . .”

  “If I change my mind, I’ll have myself committed.”

  He tipped an imaginary hat and left.

  ***

  She thought that would be the last she heard or even thought about Luke for a long time. Since she’d already made up her mind not to go to his club anymore, she wouldn’t see him there and the truth was, they really didn’t travel in the same social circles.

  But even though she didn’t see him, she wasn’t able to banish him from her thoughts quite as easily as she thought she should. After the day he stopped by, he popped into her mind at the most inopportune times. Like when one of the Doms she casually played with happened to call. She told herself she turned down his offer of playing because she was really busy with work, but deep inside she knew better. It was because of Luke.

  Since he’d mentioned taking erotic pictures of her, whenever she thought about playing with anyone, an image of him came to mind.

  A week after his visit, she finally got around to putting the magazines away.

  That, she decided, was that.

  But two days later, she sat at her desk, trembling, as she reread the e-mail on her screen for the fifth time.

  It’s reckoning day, bitch. I bet after all these years, you thought no one knew what you did seventeen years ago. That’s exactly what I wanted you to think. But now it’s time to pay up or be exposed for the lying whore you are.

  Luke DeVaan has some things I want and you’re going to get them for me. I don’t care how you do it. I’m sure a slut like you can think of something.

  We’ll start easy with a little test. Find out the location of his next building site and reply to this e-mail. You have three days. If you fail, you will be punished.

  Don’t fuck up,

  The Taskmaster

  Seventeen years ago? She swallowed. She had been so certain only her brother knew what happened that summer. If the person who sent the e-mail had any idea, it could not only damage her life and her brother’s, but also ruin the reputation her father had worked so hard for.

  The e-mail address was generic. She drummed her fingers on her desk and tried to think of someone she knew that could discreetly look into who it belonged to. The problem was she’d have to let them read the e-mail and she did not want to go into what happened that summer seventeen years ago.

  Damn it.

  She wasn’t going to the police, obviously. Not without thinking this through more. And she wasn’t about to give into the demands. Which left her doing nothing.

  It was probably no more than a game of chicken and she wasn’t interested in playing. With a nod of her head and few quick keystrokes, she deleted the e-mail.

  She tried not to think of it in the days that followed, but it was difficult. She kept wondering who it could be, what exactly they knew, and what they were going to do at the end of three days. Hadn’t she always heard that you weren’t supposed to give in to blackmail demands? That things would only escalate?

  At times, that thought was enough to convince her she’d made the right decision. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case the majority of the time.

  On the third day after receiving the e-mail, she admitted she couldn’t focus on anything. She jumped at every unexpected noise, looked over her shoulder constantly, and dreaded every moment her e-mail indicated a new message had arrived.

  When her phone rang shortly after lunch, she almost didn’t answer it. But a quick glance at the display told her it was Abby calling. With a sigh of relief, she hit the CONNECT button.

  “Hey, girl,” she said. “What’s up?”

  “Umm, I’m not exactly sure.” Something in Abby’s voice, along with her words, set off her internal alarm. “I just got this e-mail.”

  Meagan’s stomach fell to the ground. She didn’t want to ask, but she had to. “What kind of e-mail?”

  “It’s, ah, a naked picture of you.”

  Her grip tightened on the phone. “What?”

  “I don’t recognize the e-mail address and the message says, ‘Your boss is a slut.’”

  Meagan closed her eyes. Shit. “Forward to me?” she managed to get out.

  “Do you want me to try to figure out who sent it? I’m sure Nathaniel—”

  “No.” Meagan couldn’t even fathom bringing Abby’s husband into this. For starters, the man didn’t like her. And there was no way she wanted him to see her naked. She shivered. “No, thank you. I’m pretty sure I know who it is.”

  She was surprised how easily the lie fell from her lips.

  “Okay.” Abby didn’t sound convinced. “If you’re sure.”

  “Yes, completely. Just forward it to me and I’ll take care of it.”

  “Let me know what you find out.”

  “Will do.” But Meagan was sure she wanted to involve Abby.

  Abby didn’t waste any time getting off the phone and within seconds of disconnecting, the e-mail arrived in Meagan’s inbox. She looked at it, not really wanting to open it, but knowing she had to. With a sigh, she clicked on it and watched as it opened on her screen.

  In the brief moments since Abby mentioned the picture, she’d wondered what sort of naked picture it was and was horribly afraid of the answer all at the same time. That weekend with Luke, their first and only, he’d taken some shots of her. Did those pictures even exist anymore? She didn’t know, but she sure as hell would find out.

  The truth, when she saw it, made her heart skip a beat. It was definitely her and she was naked, but the most alarming thing about the photo—she was in her house. And from the date stamp, it was taken this morning as she got ready for work.

  She reached for the phone to call the police, but her fingers hovered just over the numbers. How could she bring up the picture without telling them about the blackmail? And if she mentioned the blackmail, she’d have to confess about her brother. Shit. She couldn’t contact the police after all.

  She drummed her fingers on her desk, trying to figure out what to do next when her laptop pinged with a message.

  I see you decided to go about this the hard way.—Taskmaster

  Beyond the message, what freaked her out more was that it was sent via interoffice chat. Holy fuck, did the blackmailer work for NNN? Her fingers flew over the keyboard.

  Who are you? How did you get that picture? Do you work here?

  The reply was almost instant.

  I don’t think you’re in a position to ask questions.

  She was typing out a reply when the next message popped up.

  You have 24 hrs to get me the next club’s location. You think that picture’s bad, wait until your entire office sees the ones you actually posed for.

  He knew and he had the pictures. Damn it, Luke. But in reality she should have been cursing herself. She was the one who allowed him to take the pictures in the first place.

  Fine. You win, she replied.

  I always do.

  The interoffice chat box disappeared and she picked up her phone to call the IT Department.

  “Hello, Ms. Bishop, how can I help you?”

  “Can you tell me which employee has the chat name Taskmaster?”

  “Management doesn’t allow nicknames like that.”

  She took a deep breath so she wouldn’t take her anger out on the poor guy who had the bad luck to take her call. “I know that. Can you do a quick search anyway?”

&nb
sp; “Sure, I don’t have anything better to do. Hold on.”

  From the other end of the phone came the sound of typing and then silence.

  “No, ma’am. No Taskmaster.” He made no attempt to hide his I-told-you-so tone.

  “Thank you,” she said and hung up.

  What were the odds someone hacked into the company’s computer system? It would make sense. Especially since the chat message arrived almost immediately after she opened the e-mail. Or had someone simply hacked into her computer?

  Either way, it looked as if she was going to have to talk to Luke sooner than she’d anticipated. With a sigh, she reached for her phone and dialed.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, Luke?”

  “Meagan?” His voice was tinged with disbelief.

  “What the hell did you do with those pictures of me you took fifteen years ago?”

  There was silence from the other end of the phone. She got up and closed her office door. “I’m waiting.”

  “Which pictures?”

  “Don’t which pictures me. The ones of me naked. Do you have them?”

  “Jesus, Meagan. What’s this about? Of course I have them.”

  “Can anyone get to them?”

  “Not unless they go through me first.”

  His assurance didn’t ease her panic. “I want them.”

  “Okay. No problem.” He paused before continuing. “Is everything okay?”

  Her heart had stopped pounding once he told her she could have the pictures. She took a deep breath and tried to sound normal. “Yes, it’s only someone I know had some pictures leaked and I thought about the ones you had.”

  “Should I bring them by your office?”

  “No.” She made up her mind quickly. It wasn’t that much of a decision: her life versus talking with Luke about his offer. “Why don’t we get together and talk about the photo book thing. You can bring them then. Can you meet tonight?”

  ***

  Luke shook his head as he shoved his phone back in his pocket, but he couldn’t keep the grin off his face. Meagan called. And she said she wanted to talk about the shoot. He couldn’t fathom what had changed her mind, but he was glad it did. He knew there was a reason he never got around to telling Rick, his partner bankrolling the book, that she wasn’t interested and they’d have to find another model.

  Even better, she’d asked him to dinner. Granted, she insisted it was a business dinner and not a date. “So don’t go getting any ideas,” she’d said.

  Useless words, he almost told her. When it came to her, he had nothing but ideas. Still, for the time being, he’d play it her way. The important thing was they were going to have dinner and at least talk about the upcoming photography project. He smiled. It was more than he thought possible after visiting her office.

  He’d never quite forgiven himself for the way things ended with Meagan all those years ago. Young and relatively inexperienced, he’d taken the cover shots of her and later that night invited her to dinner, which led to round after round of hot and heavy sex. He had been on top of the world: his photography was doing well and he had Meagan in his bed. She’d been his every fantasy come to life: smart, sexy, and willing to experiment in bed. He’d never been in love before, but during those short few weeks with Meagan, he’d fallen hard and fast. So much so that he didn’t stop to think about anything other than how perfect things where.

  But a more experienced photographer, one he considered a mentor and friend, found out about his affair with Meagan and strongly suggested he call an end to it. Luke didn’t regret ending the relationship. Looking back now, it was unprofessional and sent the wrong message to any potential models. He did, however, regret that she’d been hurt. Seeing it from her perspective, he’d gone from hot to cold in a matter of days.

  He couldn’t change the past, all he could do was make the present better.

  He pushed open the door to his latest BDSM club and nodded at the security guard. Nathaniel West had messaged him earlier, asking for a brief call, and Luke expected his phone to ring any minute. If he had to guess, he’d assume it was about the club the two men planned to build in Wilmington, Delaware. Damn, he hoped it didn’t interfere with the picture book. He knew Meagan said she only wanted to talk, but he knew he could convince her to do the job if he could just talk to her about it some more.

  Construction in Delaware might throw a kink in his plans.

  His phone rang as soon as he sat down at his desk. “Nathaniel, hello.”

  “Hey, Luke. Thanks for agreeing to talk on such short notice. We’re heading out this afternoon and I’m not going to be easily accessible for the next week.”

  “Going somewhere fun with Abby?”

  “And the kids. We’re going to our chalet in Switzerland. First time we’re taking the kids.”

  He felt a ping of jealously. Nathaniel was one lucky SOB with his gorgeous wife and submissive, and they had two great kids. But he also knew that, just like anything worth having, the Wests worked hard on their relationship.

  “I hope you and Abby manage to get some alone time,” he half joked.

  “That’s what nap time is for, my friend.”

  Luke laughed. “I hear you. So tell me what’s going on.”

  He heard Nathaniel sigh and a chair squeak as he leaned back. “I heard back from Fritz Brose.”

  Fritz was the contractor they wanted for the Partners Club in Delaware. He’d been recommended by Cole Johnson, one of the senior group members. Luke had never worked with Fritz, but had heard of him and, after talking with Fritz in person, both he and Nathaniel knew he was the man for the job.

  “What did he have to say?”

  “His schedule isn’t going to allow for him to be in the States for any length of time, much less to start on the club, for at least another six months.”

  Luke breathed a sigh of relief. “To be honest, that’s not bad news for me. I potentially have a project that’s going to take up a lot of my time. Six months would allow me to complete it.”

  “Same for me. I’m rearranging my executive staff in New York and I need to focus on that. Well, when I get back into the country, that is.”

  “Do you want me to call Fritz back and tell him we’re okay with the time frame?”

  “No, I can take care of it.”

  After he got off the phone with Nathaniel, Luke leaned back in his chair and smiled. For the moment, everything was going his way. Now he just needed to get Meagan on board. . . .

 


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