Reluctant Surrender

by Riley Murphy

  She had, but Ethan wasn’t John. And she was stronger than she thought she was. If he was right about her, and he had no reason to think he wasn’t, she was going to learn something about herself during their time together that would change her life forever. She’d gain an intimate knowledge that would alter the way she looked at a real man when next she came across one. He’d give her that gift in exchange for the one he wanted from her.

  He spotted a small tube of lip gloss next to the chair leg and picked it up to examine. Nude. How appropriate. He recalled her on her knees hastily gathering up the other items that had toppled out of her purse and smiled. That ass of hers sticking up begged to be spanked. Heated. Played with. She was unaware of the challenge she presented to him. She fired his primal instincts to dominate. The fact that she had no idea what was happening between them only stroked his triggers more. She was completely oblivious to the fact that she was bending to him because he was stronger-willed than she was and he was patient enough to enforce that will upon her no matter how uncomfortable she became. It was a situation that would only get worse for her each time she came in contact with him because she liked it and didn’t know why. Worse, she wanted to deny it.

  “Did she sign?”

  Ethan slipped the gloss into his pocket and turned to Alistair. “Yes.”

  “Good. I’m sorry you got stuck with the task, but it’s less than two weeks. It will go by quick. You’ve got too much money invested to let it slide at this point.”

  His mention of money reminded him. “Did you say something to Ted and David about the loans I authorized?”

  “Yes.” Alistair checked the document on his desk before putting it in the folder. “Someone has to watch your back. This is business. I know they’re your friends.” He shrugged. “They’re my friends too, but that doesn’t mean we lose sight of what’s right. You can’t keep footing the bill for their mistakes.”

  This was the one thing that aggravated him about Alistair. Business was business no matter what. There were no exceptions and he always took it upon himself to throw his attorney weight around even when he was expressly asked not to. If it weren’t for the fact that he’d help Ethan gain guardianship over his little brother after their parents had died, he probably would have let him go a long time ago.

  “You’re a good attorney and I’d hate to fire you for overstepping the line. When I okay a loan I don’t expect you to attach any guilt to it, do you understand?”

  “Listen, E, I was only trying to cover your ass. Legally, you know?”

  “Sure, I know. Hopefully you won’t have to and we’ll be able to turn this situation around without losing our shirts on the place. That’s the endgame here.”

  “Good luck with that. You’ll have your hands full with her. She’s a brat.”

  “I’ve tamed a few of those in my day.”

  “Yeah, but she’s—” Alistair stopped shuffling files and glared. “She’s not one of you people. Remember that. The last thing we need is for her to turn the tables on us and sue. I’m good.” He tapped the file. “I’ve got you covered eight ways from Sunday here, but someone could find a hole if they searched hard enough. So, keep your distance with her.”

  Ethan walked to the window and examined the parking lot. There she was. Rummaging through her purse to find her car keys. He would have loved to tell Alistair that the only distance he intended to be between him and Colin Reneaux was the thickness of skin, but he didn’t want the guy losing any sleep over it. Instead he waited until she pulled out of the parking lot before he turned around. “It’s funny, when you refer to me on intimate terms you say, ‘you people’ and when you refer to me where there’s a dollar sign attached it’s ‘we’. You might want to think about how that comes across to me, Al.”

  “W-what?”

  “Don’t worry about Colin Reneaux. I’ll take care of her.”

  “Yeah, sure you will. I’d like to be a fly on the boathouse wall when you have to deal with her temper. She repeatedly hung up on me and she blocked my emails. I finally had to have her served to get her here today.”

  Ethan wanted to laugh, but he knew how sensitive Alistair was about being ignored so he held himself in check. “What’s this about the boathouse? I thought we’d be staying in the mansion.”

  “No can do. Inspections aren’t completed and besides, without security there’s no legal way around staying overnight at the place. The boathouse works because it’s deeded to you personally. So knock yourself out.”

  “I was counting on staying in one of the suites.”

  Alistair blanched. “With her? No way.”

  Buzz.

  Alistair held up one hand and pressed the intercom button with the other. “Yes?”

  “Zach Jones is here to see you.”

  “I wasn’t expecting him.”

  “No sir. He’s here because the woman you had him serve got him fired and he wants to speak to you about a possible case against his company.”

  “Give me a minute and then send him in.”

  “Is this the guy who served Colin?”

  “Sure is. Fuck. I’ve had Zach processing clients of mine on the side for five years. Five years and his boss was never the wiser.” He shook his head. “I wonder how she knew where to find him? She’s trouble, E. And she’s just cost me a grand a month. Shit. I’m telling you. You better stay away from her.”

  Ethan left Alistair’s office feeling more alive than he’d felt in years. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been anticipating spending time with a woman he intended to train. He agreed with his friend too. Colin was trouble, just the kind of trouble he needed to pull himself out of this lackluster funk he’d been in for over a year.

  Pausing before he engaged his car in reverse, he thought about her. She was going to be a handful, but he didn’t mind. Hell, who was he trying to kid, he was looking forward to handling her, big-time. Guiding her in her metamorphosis. Calming her restless spirit. That was the challenge. The hill to climb and the site to claim. Sure she needed to be cracked open. Explored. Plundered the way he knew she secretly craved to be, but more than that she needed guidance and understanding. She needed…

  Him.

  His every thought over the last few weeks had been how he would accomplish this for her. She wasn’t some seasoned sub looking to go to the next level. She was a woman walking on a tightrope. One who’d been forced to shore up her defenses and deny her deepest desires because she’d been wounded. Hell, everyone had scars but hers were fresh and raw, he got that. He had to tread carefully. He didn’t want to scare her, yet he wouldn’t coddle her either. Just like her tightrope, he’d have to walk a fine line if he hoped to get her to surrender to him. Yeah, he liked the thought of that.

  She’d be on her knees. Naked and waiting for his attention. Her hair would be down and her lips parted. With shoulders back and breasts thrust forward she’d eye the shine on his shoes. Anticipating his touch or directive. He didn’t intend to go easy on her. If she wanted what he had to give she was going to have to work for it. He’d learned long ago that anything easily acquired was never truly appreciated.

  And he would be appreciated.

  Trill.

  When his phone went off a second time he answered it. “Hey, Ted.”

  “Hi. I just got a call from Alistair.”

  He wasn’t even out of the parking lot and the guy was sticking his nose in things that didn’t concern him.

  “He says you were hoping to score a suite at The Carlyn for you and The Iron Lady.”

  Ethan wasn’t going to tell him to quit calling her shit like that because it would only make him do it more. “So?”

  “You’re not planning on Topping her, are you? She’s straitlaced conventional and Roman Catholic to boot. You don’t want to fuck with that combination. Trust me. If you don’t have the wrath of ‘good’ citizens coming down on your depraved head, you’ll have fire and brimstone to deal with.”

  Ethan bit bac
k a sigh. “I can’t imagine you called me just to discuss social and religious mores.”

  “Hell no. You know me. Every man for himself when it comes to a possible lynching or divine retribution. I don’t expect you to have my back when the reaper comes a-knocking for me. I promised Al I’d say something to you about it and I did.”

  Ethan shook his head. “Great. Anything else?”

  “Yeah, since you’re not going to listen to me on all that—can’t say as I blame you there, that would be like the pot calling the kettle black—I thought I’d do you a solid. I called down to the city to one of my buddies and had him push up the final inspections. You may not be able to sleep there, but you’ll be able to use the facilities without fear of any inconvenient interruptions.”

  “That was a good thought. Thanks.”

  There was a pause, as if Ted expected him to say more but he wouldn’t. In fact he was just about to say bye, when Ted finally asked, “What is it about her, E? I don’t get it.”

  Ethan weighed his answer carefully because at the moment he wasn’t sure he understood what was driving this. “I’m feeling it.”

  “The question is, is she?”

  “Yes, but she doesn’t know it.”

  “Is this a mentor thing or…”

  Ethan rubbed his thumb over the brown leather cover on his steering wheel and shrugged even though Ted wouldn’t see it. “I don’t know. Ask me the next time we talk, okay? And hey, if I call on you, you’ll be available, correct?”

  “I’m always ready to help with the process.”

  “Good, I was hoping you’d stay at the cabin. You’ll be closer if it turns out I need you.”

  “She’s got you worried.”

  “Not me worried about her. More me worried about me.”

  “That strong?”

  He wasn’t going to lie. “Yes. I can’t explain it. No matter how hard I’ve tried to rationalize this I’ve got nothing.”

  “I think I know.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Unlike Jade, this woman needs you in a healthy way.” Ethan hung up and stared at the fat raindrops that splashed against the windshield. Was that it? It couldn’t be that simple and yet so fucking complex, could it?

  * * * * *

  “So, let me get this straight. You agreed to go to Silver Lake and spend time with him.” Jo Nehr tossed the glossy magazine that had a full-page picture of Ethan White on the cover. It skated across the linen duvet and hit the suitcase Colin was currently packing in a flutter of pages. “As a paid educational and business experience?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “Are you fucking crazy? That guy will eat you alive.”

  Colin paused and gave her a scowl. “Hey, don’t you think I can take care of myself?”

  Her friend scrutinized her and Colin was smart enough to prepare herself. Jo was brutal when it came to throwing out point-blank opinions. “No. Ever since John you’ve been isolated. Unavailable. Shriveled up. Huh, maybe a little time with White will do you good because he may not eat you alive, but I bet he’ll eat you.”

  “Jo!”

  Her friend fell across the bed and reached for the magazine. Lying on her stomach, legs bent at the knees with ankles crossed, she examined his image. “He’s one dead-sexy fucker, isn’t he?”

  Colin returned to stacking her clothes in the case. “Gee, I hadn’t noticed.”

  Jo snorted and tapped her finger on his lips and asked, “Do you really believe a guy that looks like this is going to keep his hands off you? I’ve heard—”

  “Don’t go there, Jo.” She didn’t want to think about that or why she’d clung to the threat of the lawsuit as an excuse, but the closer the day came, the more she realized it was just a rationalization. Ethan was the real draw. She knew it, he knew it and if Jo pushed she’d know it too.

  “Tell me you have a plan or something. A weapon or two in your arsenal?”

  She shook her head. Jo was such a drama queen. “Why? I’m not going to war.”

  “Wanna bet?”

  “He’s not my type.” She almost choked over that lie.

  Jo didn’t let her get away with it either. Turning the magazine around, she made a dubious face. “He’s,” she stabbed a finger on his forehead, almost poking a hole through the page, “not your type? Tell me another one, you bullshit faker. He’s anyone’s type, even Marnie’s.”

  “I highly doubt that.” Marnie was their gay friend who enjoyed being the man in the relationship.

  “Swear, she told me she wouldn’t kick him out of bed for eating crackers.”

  Colin closed the suitcase with a snap and laughed. “Now I know you’re lying, because Marnie’s OCD is worse than mine. She’d never allow food in the bedroom.”

  Jo flipped the magazine back around to look at it. With a deep sigh she said, “I would. A crunchy night’s sleep after the best lay of my life would be worth the sacrifice. Maybe I should go with you.”

  “Not a chance. Besides, I thought you were still boycotting the opposite sex.”

  “Seriously.” She sat up. “Tell me you’ve at least thought this through.”

  “Every which way,” she lied and patted her friend on the shoulder. “No worries. It’s a simple exchange. I give him what he needs and he gives me what I want.”

  She didn’t want to think about how intimate that sounded. How close to an actual power exchange the concept was or how little she had thought this all through. Because there was no way she was going to tell Jo that her normal, control-freak friend was working on pure instinct now.

  “All right,” she grumbled. “On to problem number two. Why do I get stuck with Casper? With Doc still in Europe until the twenty seventh, I thought it was Marnie’s turn to babysit him.”

  “No. Don’t you remember she and Lil did it when I went to New York?”

  “That was only for two days.”

  “Luck of the draw, sorry. Gee, all you have to do is check in on him. He’ll be staying with his sister.”

  “I know, the poor bastard, she’s a crotchety old bitch. Maybe he’ll get lucky and suffer another bout of angina. It would be a good time for another hospital stay.”

  “Jo.”

  “It’s true. He’d be better off even if he had to camp out in the ER. The guy might bug the shit out of me with his caterwauling about how times have changed, but I hate it when he gets hen-pecked by that shriveled-up male-slayer.”

  Colin yanked the suitcase off the bed and dropped it to the floor with a thud. “Wow, why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”

  “Collie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Besides the post series, there isn’t another reason you’ve chosen to go through with this, is there?”

  She didn’t dare look at her when she replied, “No.”

  “I won’t think less of you.”

  Now she looked at her. “Meaning?”

  Jo beamed. “Meaning if you return from this adventure a little kinky, I won’t mind, but I will expect you to teach me everything you’ve learned, okay?”

  Colin attempted a smooth nod, but it came off curt and stilted because Jo had hit on the exact reason Colin suspected she’d agreed to this craziness. To learn and not for her readers…

  * * * * *

  Later that night just as Colin got into bed, her phone beeped. She settled between the cool sheets and debated on whether to check the text. She knew it was Jo, probably razzing her with one more excuse not to go tomorrow. Then her eyes snapped open.

  What if it were Casper? Despite the fact that she’d delivered him to his sister’s this afternoon, technically she was still on duty and the man-slayer stayed up late.

  “Dammit.”

  She snatched up the phone and pressed enter.

  Are you in bed?

  Her reply was automatic. Yes. The minute she pressed send she realized who she was texting. It was Ethan White.

  Do you always answer your phone when you’re in bed?
/>   Ha! So what if she did. Yes.

  Great, I’ll have to remember that…

  Her heart hammered and those muscles low in her belly and between her legs jerked and ached. Before she could think of a reply to that he sent another one.

  Tomorrow, I want you to go to the boathouse behind the mansion. We’ll be staying there.

  The boathouse? Both of them? Why?

  The pause was so long she jumped when his text finally arrived with his answer. Because I told you to go there.

  She read it twice. Probably because she had a mixed reaction to it. On the one hand she liked how confident he was, but on the other she wanted to shoot back the coordinates to where he could go. Six, six, six—straight to hell. She drew in a breath and then let it out in an aggravated huff. She’d be the bigger person. That would be fine. What time do you want me there?

  First thing. Nine.

  No sooner did she press the O for okay when her phone beeped again.

  And, Colin, I’m proud of you for biting your finger and not texting what you really wanted to say.

  She couldn’t help it, she laughed. Had to bite my finger. You don’t like it when I bite my nails.

  I’m glad you noticed that. You have elegant hands.

  How crazy was this? She was lying in the dark all by herself and she was blushing to the roots of her hair. Thanks.

  You are most welcome.

  I’ll see you tomorrow.

  I want you to see me tonight. Dream about me. Good night.

  She read those words and gasped. Quickly, before she changed her mind and did something stupid, like text him back, she put the phone down on her nightstand and pushed it as far away from her as possible. Settling under the blankets, she couldn’t get his words out of her head.

  “How did he know?”

  Ever since the night of the opening she’d not only been dreaming about him, but fantasizing as well. Day, night, morning, afternoon and even when she volunteered at the Salvation Army on Tuesday. Selma Murdock went into one of her long spiels about sweet potato casserole and all she could think of was how great Ethan’s sweet ass would look in a pair of well-worn blue jeans. By the time Selma got to the part in the recipe where it called for mini-marshmallows she had Ethan in those jeans and out of them—