The Izzy and Seb Collection: The Evermore Series Books 1, 2 and 2.5

by Rachel De Lune

  Seb is proficient as ever with the preparations. The smell of the steak adds to the mouth-watering sight of Seb in the kitchen. It only causes my frustrations to grow.

  Previously, when I met Seb at his apartment, I expected to learn what submitting to someone felt like, making my yearnings previously locked away behind a computer screen a reality. Even in the beginning, we both knew why I was there. Now, there’s been nothing for me to focus on, nothing to occupy my mind or try to show that I want to do as Seb tells me. There is an air of uncertainty. It creates an anxiety that’s new. The anticipation bubbling through me like champagne falls flat.

  “Are you going to sit there and stew all evening, or will you share what’s on your mind?” Seb breaks through my thoughts, and I try to right my frowning face. I know what will happen if I try to hide that I am preoccupied.

  “I was just thinking about today, that’s all.”

  “And that has had you scowling at me for the last five minutes?” His brows rise in question.

  “I didn’t realise I was scowling. Sorry. I just… well…” Seb’s stance turns tense. He takes the pan from the heat and comes round to stand over me. His hands cup my face so I have nowhere to look but at him. His aqua eyes pierce mine, daring me to be anything but honest with him.

  “Today was different from what I was expecting.”

  “Go on.”

  “I thought that there would be more of a challenge, something that I would struggle with so I could show you how much I want to please you. Or something that was naughty or sexy that I could do for you.” I whisper my thoughts and search his eyes for his answer.

  “There isn’t always a challenge for you, Isabel. Before, I tested you and pushed the boundaries of your submission, sexually. It was the only avenue open to me given our circumstances. Now you’re mine. My options have expanded.” His lips draw back into a satisfied smile. “You made me so fucking happy this morning. The submission you show by dressing in the clothes I’d like you to wear, bringing me coffee in the morning, greeting me at night with a glass of wine—these small things all make up the days when you’re submissive outside of the bedroom. It indicates to me your desire to please me, just as much as something that you may struggle with.”

  “You like the simple stuff? Not just the sexual submission?”

  His hands slip from my face, no longer holding me to his gaze, and move to stroke my hair, soothing me as he answers.

  “Yes. For me, the control is part of who I am. I’ve not found a woman who could meet my… wants. You do. In every way. We’ll learn together. That will need communication. Do you understand?” He pulls my hair back, sending shivers of expectation down my spine.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good girl.” He crushes his lips onto mine, punishing them with his force. His grip on my hair is tight and adds to the edge of pain that mixes with the delicious pleasure of his tongue. Deep, sensual thrusts have me whimpering with need. He pulls back, and only his grip on my hair keeps me from sagging like a rag doll.

  “Tell me how you feel, Isabel. After talking to me, I want to know what you’re thinking.”

  Thinking? Don’t stop kissing me. I clear the lust that’s invaded and think back to the words he spoke to me.

  “I was… relieved that today wasn’t too hard. I didn’t want to disappoint you like I always managed to before. I can do this. I want to, but I expected more. It felt like something was missing. I was frustrated.”

  “Sexually?”

  “Mmmhmm.” Heat flashes to my cheeks, proving I can still blush for Seb.

  “You associate submission with me dominating you in bed. I like that. It will certainly make my life easier when I want you wet and waiting for me all day. Having you follow my instructions, be mine to control, that soothes a part of me, and I’ll look forward to the next day that I can control you.” He inches my legs apart and runs his hand up my thigh to skim the damp fabric of my thong.

  “Sir…” My plea is past my lips before I can stop it.

  “Not quite yet. I’ve almost ruined the steaks but we still need to eat. I’m very pleased that you opened up and talked, eventually. Thank you, Isabel.” Seb releases me and steps back to the kitchen to rescue the abandoned steaks.

  “We’re just going to eat?” I can’t keep my disappointment from my voice.

  “Oh, sweetheart. We’re going to eat first, then I’m going to get you really comfortable in our bed. I’ve been thinking about you all day, and I have a few ideas that you might be more contented with than just wearing the clothes I’ve selected for you.” Seb’s sexy smile shows the promise to his words. The bubbles return, fizzing through me in excitement for what Seb will do to my body.

  “Ms. Fields, it’s Mr. Osbourn. Your husband has failed to acknowledge the divorce petition, so I’ll be seeking it to be served to him by a court bailiff.”

  “Can’t we simply proceed?”

  “Not without proof he’s received the petition.”

  “But he has. He came to my house and threatened me.”

  “I’m very sorry, Ms. Fields, but we need to be able to prove it. If he has threatened you, I can look at filing for an injunction against him.”

  “What would that do?”

  “Depending on what injunction you apply for, it can help protect you against harassment or threats. Especially if you think he might escalate to violence. If he breaches the injunction he can be arrested.” I think about what Mr. Osbourn says and remember the look on Phil’s face when he was about to hit me.

  “Can I think about it? I just want to get the divorce over with. He can’t actually stop me from divorcing him?”

  “No, but he can make it a drawn-out process that will likely cost you both a lot of money.”

  “Will you… Will you keep me posted?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you.” I end the call feeling defeated already.

  “That didn’t sound fun. Everything okay?” Jess asks, concern clear in her voice. We arranged to meet over lunch as we’ve not seen much of each other since I moved out.

  “Not really. Phil hasn’t returned the acknowledgement of receipt. It’s a form that tells the court he’s received the divorce petition. I now have to prove he’s received it before we can move proceedings along. God, why is he doing this?”

  “Oh, sweetie, I know he’s being a dick. Have you heard from him since the other evening?”

  “No. And I don’t want to after what he said. He threatened me, and if you weren’t there, I’m sure he would have hit me.” I grit my teeth and force the tears back down. I want to be strong, but right now, it’s difficult to remember that. “He’s going to make leaving him so much harder. He doesn’t want to split the house, either.”

  “He can’t do that, can he?”

  “He can object to what I proposed. He can’t stop the divorce, but he’s going to do everything he can to hurt me. I just want it to be over.”

  “It will be. How’s Seb?”

  “He’s good. We’re good. He hasn’t said anything about it, but I know he wants me to be finished with Phil as soon as possible. I think that’s why he wanted me to move in so quickly. It’s his way of tying us together.”

  “Well, that and he adores you.”

  My cheeks heat at her reassurance of Seb’s feelings. “Thank you for meeting me for lunch. I needed to get out today. Plus, I miss being able to talk to you quite so freely.”

  “Hey, that was your doing. Nothing to do with me.” Jess holds up her hands in mock protest.

  “Don’t let me get lost, okay?”

  Her playful expression falls from her face. “Hey, you won’t. I don’t even know what you mean by that, but it won’t happen.”

  “It’s just that there’s so much I’m unsure of, it’s daunting. The new relationship with Seb is moving really fast. Yet I’m not even divorced. I want to close that part of my life, but Phil’s not making it easy. I don’t feel in control of how my life is pro
gressing. I feel adrift, like I’ve lost part of me, of Izzy.”

  “It’s just new to you. That’s why you’re feeling lost. You aren’t, trust me. If you feel like you might be, then you call and we’ll talk it through, okay?”

  “Thanks, Jess, for being there for me. Again.”

  “Always.” We hug and my throat clogs with the relief that Jess is in my life. Despite my fears or my worries, she’s always there for me.

  “Right, I need to go. You have a report to finish for Mark and an ex-husband to divorce. I’ll see you soon. Stay strong.”

  Jess heads out of the restaurant and I try to absorb her words. I feel anything but strong at this moment. I’d hoped, at the beginning of this, that Phil and I could work things out between us, amicably, like adults—acknowledge what we had, and decide to move on. He must have been unhappy. Why else would he be seeing other women? That’s the reason I ended up finding Seb.

  We’d loved each other, once upon a time—I thought. His lack of cooperation makes me think the last twelve years has been a sham.

  As if he knows I was thinking about him, Phil’s name flashes on my phone.

  “What is it, Phil?”

  “I want you to stop this divorce bullshit and come to your senses. Why are you doing this, Izzy?”

  “Well you should have thought about that before cheating on me and treating me like crap. I want a divorce and you can’t stop this.”

  “Well, I disagree.”

  “You can’t just ignore the paperwork. You will be served the petition and then whether you respond or not doesn’t matter. I will divorce you.” I hang up and tear my way through the reception area and up to my desk.

  Phil’s attitude makes my blood boil. Frustration radiates through me and I want to scream. Why is he doing this? My phone vibrates, and I nearly hurl it across the office. Looking down, I see it’s just my alarm to text Seb. He’s been very clear on keeping him updated as to my whereabouts. I don’t mind. I thought it was nice to start with; we’d text back and forth and I’d feel connected to him. Now, I have to text him regularly and it’s just a check-in, no back and forth. It makes me feel small, and I don’t understand why they’ve stopped being personal.

  I pull up the files that I need to complete the report Mark has been asking for, and focus back on the familiar work in front of me, the area of my life I know inside and out.

  The weekend arrives, and Seb and I relax, sleep in, eat and become accustomed to living with each other. So far, it’s heavenly, and it helps that he’s a wonderful cook who likes to spoil me. Our bubble lasts until Tuesday morning when Seb has to go to London.

  “I’ll be back Friday night, but not until late.” Seb is still in bed, but I am rushing to finish getting ready for work. Lucky for me, I am busy and it will keep my mind off the fact that Seb is leaving.

  “I know.”

  “And don’t forget, I want you to keep checking in with me. We agreed. I might be in London, but that doesn’t mean I don’t need to know what you’re doing and that you’re alright. Regular messages, every other hour, and phone me if Phil so much as sends you a text.”

  “Yes, I’ve got it.” I grab my blazer from the wardrobe and my black heels, sliding my feet into them before I lean over and kiss Seb goodbye.

  “Is that all I get? I’m not seeing you for three days and all I get is a quick peck?” His sexy smile and hooded eyes betray the intention behind his comment. I walk back to his side of the bed and kiss him properly. I draw myself back before we get carried away. If I let myself, I’ll get sucked into my own tailspin about Seb going away. Keeping busy is my key. Lucky for me, that isn’t going to be a problem this week.

  “What’s wrong, Isabel?”

  “I’ll miss you and I’m trying not to think about it. Now, I need to get to work. I’ve got a client presentation at 1:00 p.m. today and one tomorrow. I’m nervous.” He looks at me and cups my cheek in his hand. My reaction is automatic; I nuzzle into him, happy to take the affection.

  “I’ll miss you, too, sweetheart. Get going. Good luck with your presentation. Remember to text me when you get to work. That’s not optional. I want to know you are somewhere safe. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

  “Okay, I will. But I can’t when I’m with clients.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “Thank you.” Any more talking and my nerves and fear would have gotten to me. Since the weekend, I’ve felt so much better, and I need to get through this separation without any drama.

  “Drive safely. I love you,” I throw back as I leave the room and pick up my bags. I can do this.

  I get into work a little earlier than usual. It gives me the much-needed time to get my head together for the client presentation later on. It’s the first one I’ve done with Mark, and I want it to go well.

  He’s been impressed with the strategies I’ve pulled together, and since Christmas, he has been giving me more projects to look over. The next few days couldn’t have come at a better time with Seb being away. I text him before firing up the computer and getting myself a much-needed coffee.

  “All ready for later?” Mark startles me as I’m pouring my liquid caffeine.

  “Um… I think so.”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. They like the work we’ve been doing, and the new campaigns have seen a positive spike in ROI.” I know all of this because I’ve been the one to run the analysis.

  “I know. I’m just not looking forward to the presenting part.”

  “I’ll be doing most of it. They are due in at 1:00 p.m. so let’s meet at 12:30 p.m. to run through. Beta conference room, okay?”

  “Okay.” I turn back to my coffee.

  “You’re doing really good work, Izzy. I’m glad I got you to look at the client portfolios.” Mark’s praise is very welcome.

  “Thank you.” Training people is one thing. Running their campaigns to effect significant impact on sales is something very different. I love my job, and I have found comfort in the knowledge that I’m good at this. Hearing Mark confirm it really helps.

  I’ve drilled my campaign slides to death. I know all the figures, and what’s behind them, by heart. I’m ready.

  “Izzy, slight change of plans.” Mark is standing over my desk looking flustered. “The people from Sportletic are here early. Something about a miscommunication about times. We need to present now. Come on.” Mark’s words make my stomach turn at the prospect of going through this without a final briefing with Mark. I see my phone on my desk. I’m not going to be able to let Seb know.

  “Are they here already?”

  “They are in the welcome room, giving us a few minutes to get set up. Come on… we need to do this.” I grab the files from my desk and scurry after Mark.

  Going through all of the information in my head is one thing. Repeating it aloud, with conviction, to a bunch of strangers who could pull their business from us is quite another. Three suits in their mid-thirties walk in and sit on the opposite side of the conference table. They’ve built a successful sports company, Sportletic, and are expanding to launch a new fitness app. The initial campaign we managed for them has performed well, but Mark needs to sell the next phase to ensure they stick with us. My palms are sweaty and my heartbeat has quickened. I take a final glance at my notes and my phone. There’s a text from Seb, but it will have to wait. I didn’t have time to text him my change of plans.

  Mark makes the introductions and starts the presentation. As per plan, I provide my input regarding the social media campaign strategy. All three suits pay attention, nodding along. The youngest of the three makes copious amounts of notes but doesn’t ask me any direct questions.

  It turns out that the men from Sportletic were saving their questions until the end of the presentation. Nearly two and a half hours later, we finally shake hands, confident that we will be putting our plans into action.

  “Oh god, I didn’t think they would ever stop with the questions.”

  “I kno
w. You did really well, though, Izzy. You really showed you knew the account. You should be working the client pitches more often.” My knees feel wobbly and I collapse back into my chair, exhausted from the grilling we took. “We have the same again tomorrow with Everlyn, but hopefully that will be more relaxed. They aren’t going anywhere. They just need to see a shift in direction.” I knew tomorrow would be the easier of the two.

  I peek at my phone. Two more texts from Seb.

  Good luck with the presentation later. S

  Text me back when you get this. S

  What’s going on? We agreed on this. Please text me. S

  I’m fine, the presentation got moved at the last minute and I didn’t have time to text. Love you Izzy

  I take my notes and head back to my desk. Before I reach it, my phone starts vibrating in my hand. I know who it is.

  “Hello.”

  “Isabel, can you talk?”

  “Quickly, I’m at my desk.”

  “What happened? I was worried when you didn’t respond. Did the presentation go alright?”

  “Yes, it went really well. They asked lots of questions, though, and it was a little off-putting having no time to go over it with Mark first.”

  “They moved up the time?”

  “Yes, I told you that.” I know I have to bring up my feelings about these texts. The pause on the line screams tension and I hate that, after only a few hours, we’ve lost what we had over the weekend.

  “Seb… these texts, checking in with you, it makes me feel like a child. Like you are literally checking up on me.”

  “Izzy. It may seem intrusive to you, but I like knowing what you’re doing and where you are. I also like that I’m keeping myself at the forefront of your mind. Think of it as another form of submission, doing something you know will please me. If that’s not enough of a reason, it’s a way for me to keep you beside me wherever I am, and with your situation with Phil… Izzy… when you don’t respond, I’m afraid he’s cornered you somewhere and the next call will be from Jess.”