by Maya Banks
With that she pulled away, winked saucily in Faith’s direction, fluttered her fingers in a wave good-bye to her, Gray and Micah and then she sashayed off, leaving Micah there gaping like an idiot.
“Damn it, I just fell in love,” Micah said in a loud voice to Faith and Gray.
Serena laughed and kept walking.
CHAPTER 5
D amon stepped from the small crowd of people he’d been conversing with, nodded politely as he passed another couple on his way to the hall. He was usually content to make the rounds at The House and make sure his guests were happy, but instead Serena occupied his thoughts. He was eager to begin the process of turning the upper level into an auction house for Serena’s fantasy. His reality.
As he started to duck into his office he saw Micah Hudson walk out of the common room and head for the exit.
“Micah,” he called.
Micah paused and turned around to look at Damon. “Hey, man.”
“You heading out so soon?” Damon gestured toward his office. “Want to have a drink?”
There was a brief hesitation before Micah ambled forward. “As long as you have something decent. That pussy shit you drink is way too fine for my redneck taste buds.”
Damon cracked a grin. “Your taste buds could use some refining. Leave it to me.”
He motioned inward, and he and Micah entered the office. Damon flicked the lights on and headed for the liquor cabinet while Micah slouched into one of the leather chairs near the desk.
Micah fumbled in his pocket and took out a nearly empty package of cigarettes. He got up and leaned over Damon’s desk for the wooden ashtray that Damon kept more for decoration than for actual use and dragged it back toward him.
“You mind?” Micah asked even as he put the end of the cigarette between his lips and flicked the lighter.
Damon shrugged. “Your lungs. I take it you’ve had no luck quitting?”
“I’m down to one or two a day,” Micah said with an air of indifference. “Pop nags me. I’ll quit. Eventually.”
“So why were you heading out so early?” Damon asked as he touched each of the tops of the bottles. Finally he settled on a very nice aged scotch. Way too sophisticated for Micah, but it gave Damon a reason to make fun of him.
Micah grunted in response. He took the glass that Damon handed him and eyeballed it suspiciously. Before responding, he sniffed it cautiously and put his lips to the rim.
Damon settled into a chair across from Micah. “So? How is it?”
“Not bad,” Micah mumbled as he took another drag of his cigarette.
Damon smiled. “And why were you checking out early? Hot date?”
Micah snorted. “Like I’ve had one of those in a long time.”
“By choice, I’m sure,” Damon said.
A shadow crossed over Micah’s face. “Yeah, man, by choice.”
Damon raised one brow but didn’t press the point. There were other things he wanted to discuss anyway. He watched Micah inhale, savoring the hit for a moment before exhaling a long plume of smoke. “So,” he said casually. “What do you know about Faith’s friend Serena James?”
“Besides the fact that she’s hot?” Micah flicked his cigarette at the ashtray then took another swallow of the scotch.
“Her hotness is a given. Any guy with eyes can ascertain that much,” Damon said dryly.
“You interested?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“Not your type,” Micah said with a shake of his head.
“What makes you say that?” Damon asked with only mild curiosity. “I think she might be exactly my type.”
“What do you know that I don’t know?” Micah asked. “You’ve got one of those smug, shit-eating grins. Serena . . . she’s hot. Infinitely hot. Strong willed and well, hot. I’ve flirted with her, and she’s given as good as she gets for sure.”
“Not to mention she’s driven, intelligent, motivated, honest and confident in her sexuality.”
“But not submissive,” Micah said. “Don’t go knocking on doors closed to you, man. Wasn’t once enough?”
Damon smiled. “Do you know what sort of business Serena runs?”
“Yeah, fantasy fulfillment, and not the fun kind.”
“Well, she wants her own fantasy fulfilled. So she came to me.”
Micah leaned forward in interest. He snubbed out his cigarette and fixed Damon with a keen stare. “Are we talking sexual fantasy here?”
“She wants to be owned,” Damon said. “A slave. She wanted me to arrange for her to be sold in an auction at the house.”
“And of course you didn’t think of me,” Micah grumbled.
“No one else will have her but me,” Damon said quietly.
Micah studied him for a long moment. “Staking your claim, huh?”
Damon nodded. “She intrigues me. I want her, and she wants what I can give her. I’m willing to see where it leads.”
Micah was already shaking his head. “I can’t believe you signed on for this. Not with the way you view role-playing.”
“Who says it has to be a role? I’ll give her the real thing—”
“And she’ll give you fantasy,” Micah cut in.
“Your concern is touching,” Damon said with amusement. “I have doubts that the woman I want exists, or if she does, I don’t have a prayer of finding her. For now I’ll take what I can get.”
Micah’s expression sobered. A spasm of grief flickered in his eyes before they became cold and unreadable. “She exists, Damon. There are women out there who crave what we can give them. Once you taste it, you can’t ever let go of it,” he said with a note of sadness in his voice.
Damon studied him oddly, but Micah looked away and drained the last of the alcohol from his glass.
“I hope it works out for you,” Micah finally said. “Serena seems to be a very passionate woman. Not someone I would have pegged as slave material, but she is indeed beautiful and spirited. I know you’ll take good care of her.”
“I plan to,” Damon murmured.
“Am I invited to the auction?” Micah asked in sudden mischief.
“Fuck off,” Damon said crudely. “You’d only outbid me and complicate the issue.”
Micah grinned. “A beautiful naked woman being sold can certainly add to a man’s insanity.”
Damon set his now-empty glass down on the desk and hesitated before finally deciding to say the next thing on his mind. It was forward, and it wasn’t usually his style to be so intrusive with friends. But that was just it. Micah was someone he counted as a friend.
“When are you going to quit living in the past, Micah?”
Micah turned sharp, angry eyes on him, and just like that, the mild, amused mood vanished. He transformed into someone dark and angry. Tormented. Damon regretted his impulse even as he recognized the need to prod Micah from his status quo.
“Maybe when you do?”
Damon shook his head. “I’m moving on. I’m taking Serena as my slave.”
“You’re fulfilling some hokey fantasy for a woman who wants to play at having a master to spank her ass a little and throw around some authority. You and I both know it ain’t real, and you pretending won’t change that.”
The words came out angry and clipped, but Damon didn’t take offense. He was probably the only person Micah had ever confided in about the events that had brought him to Houston to begin with—a fact that Micah was probably regretting about now.
“Let’s just drop it,” Micah said when Damon started to respond. “Before we both say things we’ll regret.”
“Consider it dropped,” Damon agreed.
“And for what it’s worth, I hope you find what you’re looking for,” Micah said.
“I’ve already stopped looking,” Damon said quietly. “It’s kind of hard to look for something you’ve stopped believing in.”
CHAPTER 6
S erena read over the file of a prospective client with a frown of concentration as s
The middle-aged gentleman wanted to be a whale for an evening. He wanted the guise of an ultra-wealthy player, someone sought after by the casinos and his every whim catered to. He wanted an expensive car, a gorgeous woman on his arm. Serena rolled her eyes a bit at that, but hey, arm candy was part of his fantasy and so she would do what she could.
Her mind was already racing. An appointment to have him appropriately attired. Expensive suit, all the necessary accoutrements to polish the façade. She could arrange for a limo to take him over to Lake Charles, Louisiana, where one of her casino contacts would meet him with all the panache afforded their regular gamblers.
She’d need to call and arrange it for a time when the casino wasn’t already accommodating their real high rollers. The money the client gambled would be his own and it would be his choice whether to spend it, but the glitz and bowing and scraping would be arranged by her.
It was a win-win situation for the casino because they could in reality gain a new regular, and, in turn, she would benefit by making her client very happy.
If only everyone could be this simple.
She was interrupted when Carrie buzzed the intercom.
“Serena, Mr. Roche is on line two for you.”
Her heart fluttered and slammed against her chest as she reached for the phone. Had he only just now gotten around to reading her e-mail? Would he have anything to say about the fact that she’d presented herself as the client? Oh, why hadn’t she just come out and been honest and straightforward from the beginning?
“Mr. Roche,” she said smoothly as she put the phone to her ear. She was proud of the fact that her voice didn’t come out in a croak.
“I thought we’d agree you’d call me Damon.”
His lazy drawl gave her a warm buzz, and she immediately relaxed. “All right . . . Damon. What can I do for you?”
“Well, I hope it’s what I can do for you. Are you free for lunch?”
She smiled and loosened her grip on the phone. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. He didn’t act any different now that he knew it was her looking for a man to make her his slave.
A cringe worked over her shoulders. She was really going to have to find a better descriptor for her fantasy.
“I’m intrigued,” she said. “I’m free. Now what is it you’re going to do for me?”
A light chuckle sounded in her ear. “Meet me for lunch, and I’ll tell you.”
“A man who teases,” she mused. “Okay, I’ll bite. Where would you like to meet?”
“I’ll send a car.”
“No,” she said after a moment’s thought. “Why don’t I pick you up this time? We’ll eat on my turf.”
There was a slight pause.
“Ahh, you’re a man used to getting his own way.”
“Always,” he said in a husky growl.
A shiver worked uncontrollably down her back, and her nipples puckered against the silk of her bra.
“I like to give a man his way in appropriate circumstances,” she said lightly. “I tell you what. You come pick me up and we’ll eat at my choice.”
“I’ll be there in half an hour,” he said silkily.
“I look forward to it.”
She was smiling as she replaced the receiver. She leaned back in her chair and flexed her toes under her desk. What the hell she was doing flirting with Damon Roche when he was lining up another man for her was beyond her, but the devil just took over when it came to the man.
Had he found someone already? Nervousness scuttled around her stomach and gave her a slightly nauseous feeling. Could she go to bed with a complete stranger? More than that, could she place her well-being, her trust, her entire self in his hands?
Maybe she hadn’t thought this through adequately.
A worried frown tugged at her lips, and she rubbed her face with her hands. It wasn’t too late to back out. She could meet Damon and tell him she’d changed her mind, right?
Of course you can, moron.
It wasn’t as if this was some make-or-break business deal. It was sex, and she could say no at any time.
Feeling better about her options, she slipped her shoes back on and stood. A quick trip to the bathroom would tell her if she had any major repairs to do on hair and makeup.
Twenty minutes later, she walked into the lobby and was glad she’d chosen dressier heels today. They directed attention to her legs, which she knew without false modesty had drawn a man’s stare more than a few times. Her skirt clipped the top of her knee, so she had plenty to show.
To her surprise, Damon was striding toward the door of the office complex. She smiled in greeting as he entered. He was dressed casually, as casual as a man could look in expensive slacks and polo shirt.
“You’re early,” she said as she checked her watch.
“I try to never keep a beautiful woman waiting,” he said with easy charm.
“Good philosophy. Are you ready then?”
He offered his arm but didn’t wait for her to take it. He reached with his other hand and enfolded her fingers in his firm grip before tucking it securely under his elbow.
They walked into the warm air, and she looked around for the Bentley. Instead, he guided her toward a sleek, black BMW parked in front of the entrance.
He opened her door and settled her inside before walking around to the driver’s side. As he slid in beside her, she glanced appreciatively at the interior.
“You drove yourself,” she said unnecessarily.
“It would appear so,” he said with an amused smile. “So, where are we going?”
“Cattleman’s. Do you know where it is?”
He grimaced. “Why beautiful women like you and Faith hang out in that place is beyond me.”
“It has character,” she said with a straight face. “But if you hate it, we can go somewhere else.”
He pulled into traffic and maneuvered down the busy street. “No, I agreed to go to the place of your choosing, so Cattleman’s it is.”
“You’re a snob,” she said smugly.
He cast her a surprised glance and then evidently saw she was teasing him.
“Not a snob. I just enjoy . . . let’s just say I enjoy the finer things.”
Serena nodded. “Nothing wrong with that, but I have to tell you, I’m a beer and onion ring type girl.”
“Barbarian,” he said in mock horror. “I have nothing against some greasy finger food and a good beer, but I don’t turn down a well-aged steak and a good glass of wine either.”
“Mmmm, steak. I love steak. I love meat. I’m a total carnivore. Cattleman’s has great steaks.”
“I’ll be amazed if you don’t order a girly salad. What is it with women always ordering salads, anyway?”
She pretended to consider. “Well, I’ll order a salad if it has steak in it.”
He laughed. “Then I guess we’ll have steak for lunch.”
They drove into the parking lot, and when Serena reached to open the door, Damon stopped her with a hand to her arm.
“Let me,” he said.
He got out and walked around to open her door. Then he extended his hand down to her. Tiny little sparks shot up her arm when she slid her fingers across his palm. He pulled gently, and she stepped out to stand beside him.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
Again, he tucked her hand under his arm and walked her toward the entrance. When they walked inside, the hostess greeted them, and Damon leaned in to murmur quietly to the young woman. She smiled immediately and nodded. Then she motioned for him and Serena to follow her.
They were seated across the room from the bustle of the lunch crowd. Serena settled in and raised an eyebrow as the hostess left.
“Bribery?” she asked. “This area is usually closed for lunch.”
Damon smiled. “Let’s just say I’m used to getting my way.”
Serena snorted. “We’ve already ascertained that.”
“I wanted a place we could speak privately,” he said. “I have something for you.”
“Oh?”
Her heart slammed against her chest when he slid an envelope across the table toward her. She hadn’t even noticed that he’d carried it from the car, but then her concentration had been on other things. Like how damn good he looked.
With trembling fingers, she opened the envelope. Before unfolding the pages, she looked up at him in question. She was fairly certain that this was what she’d asked for, but now that it was here, in front of her, she was a little frightened and a whole lot unsure.
“You hesitate,” he said quietly.
“I’m nervous,” she admitted.
“Quite natural. Are you having second thoughts?”
She flushed. “You never said a word about the fact that it was me . . .”
He shrugged. “I figured you had your reasons. You don’t owe me an explanation.”
She stared down at the paper then slowly opened it. Age, address, physical details, appearance, characteristics were all listed first. Her eyes flickered over the sheet as she tried to take in as much of the information as she could at once.
No criminal record, stable job and income. Her gaze shot back up the page, and it was then she saw the name staring boldly back at her. Damon Roche.
She gasped sharply, and she yanked her head up to stare at Damon. “I don’t understand.”
He raised one brow as he studied her intently. “Don’t you?”
“Why?” she demanded.
If he’d intended to catch her completely off guard, he’d certainly succeeded. She was so rattled that her hands were shaking, and sweat beaded her forehead.
“Why not?” he asked calmly.
“Don’t play with me. This wasn’t our agreement.”
“Our agreement was that you wanted me to find a suitable man for a sexual fantasy situation. I’m that man. I don’t see the problem.” He leaned forward in his seat and pinned her with his stare. “Would you prefer a complete stranger take you and possess you? If we had not met as we did, if someone else had set up our meeting, would you object to my being the man who controls your fantasy?”
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