Sweet Surrender

by Rebel Wild

  I take a meeting with Lyle while I eat the turkey sandwich with the works that Reagan had Sampson bring me. Damn, that woman knows exactly how to feed me.

  “So, you and Reagan, huh?” Lyle says to me.

  “How the hell do you know?” This better not have come from her gossip-buddy and my soon-to-be ex-assistant if she ran her mouth about Reagan coming to see me earlier.

  “You’re sitting there giving oral sex to a sandwich with a big ass grin on your face. One only a man that’s just been fed by his girlfriend would have. That and I saw her ordering it at the deli.”

  “So, you assume she’s my girlfriend and not one of my fuckathoners? She could very well be my sub, you know?”

  “I doubt it. I think the only sub you’re fucking up is that sandwich.” I almost choke laughing. “And he laughs now. This is going to be fun to watch.”

  “What?”

  “You falling in love and—”

  “Hell no, fuck that. Not me. I’m not into that love shit.”

  “Before she walked through your door, you weren’t into the relationship shit either, but I knew the moment you laid eyes on her that was it for you.”

  “Bull shit.”

  How could he possibly know that? I didn’t even know it. I was completely annoyed by Reagan when I first saw her.

  “I could tell by the way you were completely annoyed by her when you first saw her,” he says. “She got deep under your skin minute one as much as you tried to pretend you were giving no fucks.”

  “You have got to be messing with me,” I tell him. “And you know damn well I’m not into that happily ever after love shit.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that so you’ll believe it. I was the same way before I met James, remember?”

  “You were worse. You broke out in hives at the mention of the word love.”

  “Right. But he blew through every wall I had up. He was my game changer and I think Reagan’s yours.”

  “I’m never letting that happen.”

  “I hate to break it to you, darling, but it’s already happening and you can’t control it.”

  “Don’t call me darling and let’s get back to the issues at hand.”

  “Whatever you say,” he says, ignoring my glare as he opens up his laptop again.

  “I couldn’t even sleep without her last night.” I blurt out with a heavy breath.

  He stops mid keystroke and stares.

  “You are so screwed,” he tells me, before refocusing on how to announce my new relationship when I’m ready.

  “I know.”

  Before I call it a day, I text Reagan to see if she wants to eat out tonight to celebrate her new position. She would rather stay in so I have Ginger prepare something special for us. I also instruct her to leave a special dessert for us to indulge in privately a little later.

  I spend the next two hours hold up in my home office with Sampson teaching me to sign. Admittedly he is a much better teacher than YouTube. When I figure this out, I’ll have Reagan teach me all the bad shit I can sign to her in the bedroom.

  “Sampson, I need to ask you a personal question about your sister.”

  “Of course.”

  “Did she ever try to get her hearing restored? Was there a way?”

  “Not for my sister, unfortunately. But if you’re curious to know if Miss Montgomery’s hearing can be restored, it could be a real possibility. Are you going to try and help her?”

  “I think I’ll research it a little more before I broach the subject. I’m at a loss as to why she hasn’t done the procedure yet if it is at all possible. I wouldn’t want to bring up a bad memory for her unnecessarily. Don’t mention it to her.”

  “Not at all, sir.”

  “Oh, Mr. Dixon,” Ginger says as I walk into the kitchen to check on dinner. “Miss Montgomery arrived about ten minutes ago. She’s in your room getting changed.”

  “Thank you, Ginger. Everything smells terrific.”

  “It will be ready to serve in about another half an hour.”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  I hear the water running in the shower so I slip off my clothes to join Reagan.

  Her back’s to me and the view of her ass has me rock hard. I try to think of the best way not to scare her. The last thing I want is her having images from the movie Psycho as she showers. She’s probably too young to even know what that is. I decide to just go for it. She startles a little when I wrap my arms around her but she quickly relaxes into me. She turns in my arms and her lips find mine. I relish in the feel of her wet skin beneath my hands. She feels so fucking good in my arms. Showering has never felt this satisfying.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I can stay wrapped up like this forever,” Reagan says, leaning into me while I spoon her.

  We’re both still in our robes just fresh from the shower. I turn her head slightly so she can read my lips.

  “That could be arranged,” I tell her. “You’re welcome to spend every night here if you choose.”

  “You’d get sick of seeing me.”

  “Not a chance. I like having you around.”

  I smirk at her when I hear her stomach growl.

  “Tell me that didn’t sound as loud as it felt?”

  “No can do, baby. Let’s get you dressed and fed.”

  “This is absolutely amazing,” she says of the lamb with rosemary and red steamed potatoes Ginger made for her celebratory dinner.

  She gets butter on her thumb and sucks it off. The sight of her pulling that thumb out of her mouth has me dripping with precum. Clearing my throat, I push my dick away from my zipper and refocus on eating.

  “So, tell me, how was your first day?”

  “It was great. Mr. Baylis is so easy to work for. He was kind of weird around me at first but once we hit our stride, we were off and running. I thought he was just going to make me his secretary with a fancy title, but he’s letting me participate in everything he’s doing. I think I can learn a lot from him.”

  “As long as he’s not passing all of his responsibilities on to you.”

  That asshole better not be taking advantage of her eagerness.

  “He’s just guiding me. He’s doing a lot of hand-holding while he trains me.”

  Red flags are waving in the back of my head. I need to keep an eye on Baylis and his “hand-holding” ass. I barely pay any attention to middle management. I leave that to Jim, my general manager, but I think I may have to get involved with the day-to-day operations.

  “Oh, my God, Reed,” she says, then stops to chew the bite of lamb she took. “Mmm,” she says, swallowing it. She follows it up with a sip of wine. I’m sitting here with my knife and fork frozen in my hands, waiting for her to continue. “How well do you know Row Boat House?”

  “They make luxury apartments out of old cruise liners,” I say, finally cutting into my lamb. Now it’s her turn to sit and wait and she’s right, it is good. “They’re one of our biggest contracts,” I tell her before picking up my wine and tasting it.

  “They just acquired a new ship and Mr. Baylis is designing the whole thing. Each floor’s going to have an ancient world theme. They’re transporting pieces from Egypt, Greece, Spain, all over the world. We’re talking art, furniture, fabrics, the works.”

  “Sounds like you’re ready to sink your teeth in. It’s a big project.”

  “Huge.” Her fork hits the plate with a clatter. I smile as she stretches her arms out to emphasize the point before picking it back up again. “It’s barely getting off the ground, but the CEO, Ace Barnes, she’s been all over social media. She has a huge presence and her ads are everywhere. Mr. Baylis let me sit in on the meeting with her. I was trying hard not to overreact, but I couldn’t help it. I was fangirling.”

  I have to laugh at her.
I love seeing her this excited about something.

  “But the best part is Mr. Baylis let me give feedback on the design ideas and they listened to me. I couldn’t believe it. I got to give my opinion and they listened.”

  “Of course, they listened. I’ve seen your designs. They’d be fools not to. It seems like you like the job, baby.”

  “I do. I had the best day ever and it’s all because of you. How can I ever thank you?”

  “I’ll come up with something.”

  She laughs but my dick is serious.

  She insists on cleaning up since Ginger cooked. My poor housekeeper’s at a loss as to what to do. No one’s ever extended an offer like that to her before. Not that I entertain much at home. She’s figuratively floored when I tell her I’ll help Reagan clear. She gets over it once she realizes I’m letting her leave early and she makes herself scarce.

  “Okay, I think I got it,” I tell Reagan as I fumble around with the settings on the dishwasher. She stands quite entertained by me not knowing a damn thing about how to work it. “Am I that amusing to you, Miss Montgomery?”

  The fact that I couldn’t figure out how to clean her dress and had to call my dry cleaner service to pick it up would have her in hysterics. Apparently, you’re not supposed to throw leather in the washing machine so it was dumb luck I didn’t ruin the damn thing.

  “Extremely. I like seeing you struggle with something. Usually, you seem overconfident and dare I say over-prepared.”

  “It’s all part of being powerful, baby. Megalo, remember?”

  “How could I forget. Is that why you were drawn to the lifestyle? The power it gives you?”

  “I haven’t thought that deeply about it.”

  “Oh,” she says. I only stare at her, waiting for her to continue. “It’s just that most men with your level of success are in it for the opposite reason. They want to relinquish the power they have in their everyday life. They enjoy being told what to do. It’s a release for them.”

  “I see you’ve thought that deep.”

  “I told you I’ve done my research and don’t try to deflect the question.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “And yet you haven’t answered.”

  “Fucking is my number one go-to for negative feelings, or for any feelings for that matter. If I’m happy, I fuck; sad, I fuck; celebrating, I fuck; mad, I fuck. If it’s Monday, I’m fucking Mandy—”

  “Who the hell is Mandy?”

  “She’s just pussy, baby.”

  “Oh.”

  She walks over to the island and sits on the barstool.

  “Oh?” I walk over to join her.

  “Mmm hmm.”

  “I can see your mind working. What is it? You’re not jealous of a throw-away, are you?”

  “No. It’s just that I’m curious by nature and you keep tossing out more bread crumbs on the path that leads to you. I’m just a little bird trying to peck it all up.”

  “What bread crumbs have I tossed?”

  “Your problem with getting close to people for one—”

  “I don’t have a problem.”

  “Oh, really, Mr. Two Week Contract with no intimacy and bullshit.”

  “Am I that transparent?”

  “I’ve just been paying very close attention.”

  “What else have you noticed?”

  “The fact that you have a collection of exquisite toys, but wasn’t planning on using them until you met me. And now you tell me you use kink to compliment your feelings, which is fine but I’m concerned about the negative ones. I’m sure if I ask you, you won’t tell me what the negative feelings are.”

  “I told you I wasn’t the easiest guy.”

  “I don’t mind that. I don’t even want easy. I just want to know you. I feel like I’m missing a lot of pieces to the puzzle and I’m left filling in the blanks. I get you like to club hop and fuck girls, but what I don’t get is the dousing of holy oil on commitment.”

  “What’s to get? I’m not the first guy who doesn’t want to be tied down.”

  “Geez, girlfriend sitting right here.” She raises her hand.

  “That was all before you came, baby.”

  “But why, though? Did a girl break your heart and make you put up walls to protect the pieces?”

  “It was a guy.”

  “A what?”

  “My brother.”

  “Alex?”

  “My twin brother. His name was Ryan.”

  “I… I didn’t know you had a...”

  “Come here.” I take her hand leading her to the couch.

  I take out the last photo Ryan and I took together from the drawer beneath the coffee table. I hand it to her before sitting beside her. We were fishing off the Santa Monica Pier and Ryan had just caught one. It was so small you could barely see it in the picture but he was proud of it. He threw it back right after Mom snapped the photo.

  “Look at you two. I can’t tell you apart.”

  I place my hand on her thigh and she turns to face me.

  “I get you’re curious about me,” I tell her. “I’m the same with you. So, let’s just put it all out here on the table. No more breadcrumbs.”

  “Okay, what has you so curious about me?”

  “You went to a performing arts school?”

  “To study music. The piano and singing. My mom taught me the guitar, but I loved percussion. I was studying classical piano, even though I secretly liked soft rock. Carol King is my girl.”

  “You were born at the wrong time.”

  “I get that a lot,” she smiles, sweeping her hair to one side to keep it out of her way. “When I lost my hearing, I switched to design. It was my second passion. When I wasn’t at the piano, I was in my room redecorating.”

  “Would you still play the piano if given the chance?”

  “I don’t think so. Not professionally anyway. I guess I lost my passion for it. Will you tell me about Ryan?”

  “He was younger by eight minutes. He was funny, hated school unless a ball was involved. He lived for sports. He was my best friend, my better half, my partner in crime. We could just look at each other and know what the other was thinking.”

  “Did you finish each other’s sentences?”

  “All the time,” I laugh. “Most of the time we didn’t know we were doing it. We even tried pretending to be the other one, but Mom and Dad could always tell who was which.” I run my hand over my face, stalling a minute before I say the rest. “He was riding his bike home from baseball practice. It was pouring rain and the car didn’t see him.”

  ‘Oh, my God, Reed.”

  “I wasn’t there when it happened. Mom and I got there after, but I swear it’s like I was there the whole time. I saw everything he saw as if it was happening to me. I felt everything he felt when he got hit. I still do.”

  “What does it feel like?”

  “Like people who lose a leg and can still feel the pain. That’s all he left me with. Any other time I’m numb, but I can still feel that. I know it sounds crazy.”

  “It doesn’t,” she says, and I dip my head to meet her kiss. “My mom has a twin and she says it’s like that with them all the time. They can feel when something’s wrong with the other.”

  “When he died… I felt that too.”

  “I’m so, so sorry, Reed.” She runs her hands up my shoulder to touch my cheek. “Your tattoo,” she says, looking at it. “It’s your brother, isn’t it?”

  “I was drunk off my ass and in rare form that night,” I laugh. “Good thing I had that picture with me. God only knows what it would have looked like.”

  “I like it.” She puts the picture down next to her.

  “I like you and that’s unfortunate for me,” I tell her.

  “Why would you
say that?”

  “Because losing people is not something I can handle well. I tried like hell not to get close to you. I’m still trying, but you just blow right through every damn roadblock I have up.”

  “I know what you mean. When my ex dumped me, I thought that was it. That no guy would want me, especially one who could hear.”

  “I’m sure guys were waiting for a chance with you. You probably weren’t paying attention.”

  “That’s true. I’ve been in my own bubble for a long time and then you came along and stuck a big needle in it. I know losing a stupid boyfriend or even my hearing doesn’t compare to you losing your brother.”

  “Losing what you love sucks, no matter what it is.”

  “What about your family? Your parents? You talked about them that night on the pier. You still have them, right?” She bites her lip with worry as she holds her breath for me to answer.

  I tug her chin and kiss her lips, touched by her level of concern for me.

  “They’re alive and well,” I put her mind at ease. “Losing Ryan took a toll on all of us, but I couldn’t have been more loved.” Her concerned face gives way to a breathtaking smile as she puts her hand on her chest in relief. “Come with me to dinner on Sunday. I want you to meet them.”

  Her face going from concern to elation, to all-out terrified in the span of a few seconds is comical. I take her hand and lead her to my bedroom.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Of course, I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Well, it’s a… a big step, you know, meeting parents. It suggests longevity.”

  “You should have thought of that before you agreed to be my long-term girlfriend.” Her jaw drops. “Next time that mouth of yours opens, I want you on your knees.” She was about to let it fall open again before she caught herself. “And what’s wrong with longevity? Are you planning on going somewhere?”

  Surprisingly, the very notion of it is something I can’t fathom. Usually, I’m the one rushing women out of my life, but her leaving is troubling me. My world is hinging on her answer. What the hell is wrong with me? My thought process is all fucked up. Am I this fucked?