by Tawny Taylor
Books by Tawny Taylor
“Stark Pleasure” in Yes, Master
Darkest Desire
Dangerous Master
Darkest Fire
Decadent Master
Wicked Beast
Dark Master
Real Vamps Don’t Drink O-Neg
Sex and the Single Ghost
SURRENDER
TAWNY TAYLOR
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Books by Tawny Taylor
Title Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
DARKEST ECSTASY
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
YES, MASTER . . .
DANGEROUS MASTER
DARKEST FIRE
Copyright Page
For David
Acknowledgments
A special thank you to my awesome editor, Martin Biro.
Martin, you’re the best!
1
I closed my eyes. I pulled in a long, deep breath. I exhaled. My mind was racing, images flashing behind my eyelids.
Those eyes.
The sharp blade of a nose.
The chiseled jaw.
Those lips.
Those lips.
My heart was pounding. Hard. I felt a little dizzy.
I hadn’t even talked to him yet. How would I ever convince him not to throw my baby brother in jail?
Pull it together, girl.
Twenty-three. Twenty. Three. That was how many times I’d heard Joss say, “Abby, I’m in trouble. Big trouble,” since our father died. Twenty-freaking-three times too many.
I knew Joss could pull through his crap and get himself together, so I shouldn’t have bothered stepping in to drag him out of one scrape after another. But I did. Because, despite his long, difficult struggle with addiction, Joss was a good person. He didn’t go out of his way looking for trouble. Trouble seemed to always come looking for him.
And this time there might not be anything I could do about it.
Breathe.
If Kameron Maldonado, owner of MalTech Corporation, decided to report my brother’s alleged crime to the police, he could end up in jail. For years.
My brother. A felon.
Breathe.
My brother. In prison.
Breathe.
The only family I had left, gone.
Breathe.
My sweating palms were sticking to the leather couch. I dragged them down my thighs. My scratchy polyester skirt wasn’t going to dry them. But I wiped my hands on it anyway. When I heard the door to my right rattle a little, my heart skipped a beat. I jerked my head, glancing at it, then at the young woman sitting behind the reception desk directly in front of me. She was staring at a computer screen.
I glanced at my watch. Twelve twenty-five. I’d been sitting here for almost a half hour. My appointment had been at twelve.
God, this was torture.
The doorknob rattled again, and once more panic charged through my body. My head spun. The door swung open, and my breath caught in my throat.
Kameron Maldonado stepped out, moving out of the doorway. He was smiling over his shoulder at the man behind him. “We’ll get together later this week to talk about the details. Thanks.” Kameron extended a hand, and the man shook it.
The visitor returned Kameron’s thank you and then, as he passed me, gave me a fleeting look before waving good-bye to the receptionist.
I turned my attention back to Kameron. He was standing next to the door, looking at me.
“Abigail Barnes?” he asked.
I nodded, stood on wobbly legs that felt boneless and heavy. Not expecting a handshake, but preparing for one anyway, I dragged my palms down my legs again as I shuffled toward his office.
After a quick, formal introduction and a brief handshake, Kameron closed his door behind me, circled his desk, and stood, waiting for me to sit in the chair facing him.
My stomach twisted.
Of all the situations Joss had put himself in, this was by far the worst. He had put not only his job in jeopardy, but mine too. Somehow I had to convince this man not to fire us both.
I sat, back straight, body stiff, heart thumping so hard I could hear it.
“How can I help you, Mrs. Barnes?”
“Miss,” I corrected. My mouth was dry. I licked my lips, but that did nothing to help. My tongue was as dry as the Sahara.
He nodded. “Miss Barnes.”
“I’m here on the behalf of Joss Barnes. My brother.” A huge lump of something coagulated in my throat. I tried to swallow it. It didn’t budge. I tried again.
Kameron’s brows lifted. “Are you all right, Miss Barnes?”
Swallowing a third time, I nodded.
He stood, strolled to the cabinet recessed into the wall behind me, and opened a door. Within a second, he was standing over me, a cold bottle of water in his hand.
I accepted with a weak “Thank you,” unscrewed the cap, and sipped.
“Better?” he asked as he leaned back against his desk.
I nodded.
Looming over me, he crossed his thick arms. God, he was big. Intimidating. Extremely intimidating.
“Your brother is in serious trouble, Miss Barnes. If what I heard is true, he not only violated more than one clause of his employment contract, but also broke the law. I was told he stole company property and sold it. I can’t let that go with a warning.”
We were so screwed.
Feeling utterly defeated, I nodded. “I understand.” My nose was starting to burn. Dammit. This was just too much. It was all too much. Our father’s death. Mom’s disappearance. And my brother’s rebellion and addiction. I was a fighter. I was a survivor. If I hadn’t been, my brother and I wouldn’t be where we were today. But I was too young to deal with this much crap. Every time things started to turn around, something new would come up and drag me right back down into the gutter.
When would life stop kicking me around? When?
My hands were shaking as I lifted them to drag my thumbs under my eyelashes. My eyes were burning now too. A sob was sitting in the pit of my stomach, but I was holding it in. Holding my breath.
I needed to get out of there. I couldn’t cry in front of this man. No. No-no-no. I stood too fast and felt myself stumble. He caught me, hands clamped around my upper arms. Our gazes locked.
Something really strange happened. A crazy, unexpected bolt of electricity charged through my body. I heard myself gasp.
His eyes widened slightly. “Don’t go.” He gently forced me back into the chair. “I haven’t finished yet.”
What was there left to say? Was there any chance he was going to help me?
Afraid to hope anything decent could come out of this mess, I nodded and waited.
He released me, stared down, arms crossed over his chest once again. “Your brother has put me in a hell of a position.”
“Is there anything I can do?” I asked, my voice cracking.
His eyes narrowed slightly. He tipped his head to the right. “Why? Why are you so willing to put your neck on the line for him?”
What kind o
f silly question was that? “He’s my brother.”
“But he just about got you thrown out of here. You understand that, don’t you?”
Just about?
Just about!
I wasn’t fired yet.
“Yes, sir. I do,” I said, screwing and unscrewing the cap on the water bottle I clasped in my hand. “If my brother was a complete lost cause, I wouldn’t have bothered trying to help him. I would’ve let you fire him. Hell, I would have stood by and watched him be arrested, too. But I can’t. Because I know there’s more to this situation than you and I know. He’s not a bad guy. Sure, he’s hit a bump or two lately. He’ll get it figured out.”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe there is more to this situation than we know. But, say he is guilty. What do I do with him until I figure out what really happened?”
“Good question.”
“If he did do it, how could I risk keeping him on, knowing he might steal something else?”
“Another good question.”
Leaning closer, he placed one hand on each arm of my chair, trapping me. I felt myself pushing back into the chair. I could smell his cologne, could see the flecks of silver-blue in dark, dark gray-brown eyes—the color of my favorite chocolates. I could feel the warm caress of his breath on my face.
My heart jerked again. But this time it wasn’t because I was afraid. No, I was . . . warm. I was breathless. I was staring at his lips and wondering what they might taste like.
What was going on?
“How long have you been working for us, Miss Barnes?”
“T-two years,” I stuttered, my gaze locked on his mouth. What was he getting at? What was he thinking?
“Hmmm.”
My gaze inched up, following the line of his aristocratic nose to those dark eyes again. I saw something there, the flicker of something obscure, something wicked. My heart rate tripled, quadrupled, maybe. “Sir? Please don’t fire me. My job is our primary source of income. Our father died. It’s been really hard on us both, but especially Joss. He was only thirteen and a boy with no father—”
He leaned closer. “I’m sorry about your father.” I was trapped, his body like a big wall hovering over me. Why was he standing so close? Why was he looking at me like that?
“Sir?” I murmured when he inched even closer. I’d never had a boss act this way with me before. If I didn’t know better, I would swear he was . . . he was . . .
His head dipped down. Now, his mouth was hovering over mine. Not inches. No. It was a tiny fraction of an inch from mine. His breath softly caressed my lips. Warm. Sweet.
Was he going to kiss me?
Was he expecting some kind of bribe? A payment in return for my job?
I was frozen. Shocked. Unable to move. Unwilling to move. It was wrong for him to use his position to try something like this. Wrong. Illegal. Unethical. Immoral.
But, wow, was he a beautiful man. Sexy. Intelligent. Mysterious. I wanted him to kiss me. My lips were tingling already, and he hadn’t even touched them yet. My blood was pounding hard through my body, too. My heart was slamming against my breastbone. I let my eyelids fall shut, enclosing myself in darkness and swirls of red.
“Miss Barnes?”
“Sir?” Something soft brushed against my lips. And again. Little sparks of electricity sizzled and zapped under my skin. Heat whooshed through my body, up to my face, down between my legs.
The intensity of my body’s reaction took my breath away. And still I couldn’t move. A crazy impulse popped into my head. I wanted to throw my arms around his neck, tangle my fingers in his silky hair, and pull him to me.
I can’t do that. I can’t.
“I’m not going to fire you,” he whispered. As he spoke, his lips grazed mine. The touches were minute, almost imperceptible. And yet the effect was mind-blowing. I wanted more. I needed more. A real kiss. Lips. Tongue. Teeth. Full body contact.
“Thank you.” I shuddered. My fingers wrapped around the seat of the chair.
“Before you thank me, you need to know one thing.”
“Yes?”
His mouth claimed mine. At last. And ohmygod, what a kiss it was. It started out smooth and gentle, a slow, patient seduction. But within seconds, his tongue traced the seam of my mouth. And once I opened to him, I was swept up into a wild, thrashing world of carnal need. His tongue stroked and stabbed, possessed. His hands cupped my face, holding me captive. I couldn’t escape. I didn’t want to escape. I craved more.
A moan swept up my throat, echoing in our joined mouths. Finally able to move, I lifted my hands, sliding them up his arms. I could feel the bulge of thick muscles under his crisp, starched dress shirt. They moved over his wide shoulders. My fingertips brushed silky curls at his nape.
Ohmygod, what was I doing? Kameron Maldonado was kissing me. The owner of the company! His tongue was stroking mine. One of his hands gliding down the column of my neck. The other slid to the back of my head. My scalp stung as he fisted a handful of my hair and pulled, forcing my head to one side.
He growled.
I groaned and licked my lips. They tasted like him. Sweet. Delicious. The swirls behind my eyelids were spinning now, and my heart was doing leaps in my chest.
His tongue flicked along the pounding pulse beating beneath my skin, down my neck to the ticklish spot at the crook. There he nipped me, and a shock wave of heat blazed down my body. Goose bumps coated my right arm. My nipples hardened.
Inside my head, I just kept saying, Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod. I was lost in sensation, overcome with need. Eager to feel his weight and heat pressing against me, I pulled. But he didn’t budge. The hand that had been at my neck inched lower, the palm sliding down to cover my breast. I whimpered, arched my back, pushing into his touch.
“Miss Barnes, you don’t have to do this to keep your job,” he murmured against my neck.
“I . . . I know.” I didn’t really know anything. I had no clue what this meant. I had no idea what would happen after it ended. But I did know I wanted what was happening and wished it would never end.
He kneaded my breast through my clothes, and I bit my lip, stifling a cry. “I want you,” he said.
“I . . . I want you, too.”
“No.” He palmed my face. “Open your eyes.”
I did as he asked, and my breath left my lungs in a soft huff. Wow, was he sexy. His hair was slightly messy, the curls a little unruly and wild. I’d never spoken to this man before. I’d only seen pictures of him down in the company cafeteria. In the pictures he looked good, but not anywhere as amazing as he did right now.
“I want you to be my assistant.”
Was he offering me a promotion? And if he was, what kinds of strings were attached? There had to be strings.
“I . . . don’t understand,” I admitted.
“I’m offering you a job. You’ll be my assistant. You’ll be paid a salary that should meet your needs, and you’ll have access to a company car, expense account, and business phone. But there is one condition, a fairly significant one.”
I could imagine what that condition would be, considering where his hand was.
I felt the heat draining from my body as my brain started functioning. Reality was like a cold, hard slap to my face. It stung.
I would have to sleep with Kameron Maldonado. Not because I found him incredibly sexy. Not because I wanted to. But because I had to. I would be one of those women, the kind that fucked their bosses to get a job.
Me. Pretty-but-not-beautiful me.
I’d never, ever thought I would even consider such a proposition. For one thing, I’d never expected to have something like this come up. I wasn’t a perfect ten. With a chest that was a little too small and hips a little too wide, eyes a little too big and wide-set and a jaw a little too narrow, I wasn’t exactly Playboy Playmate material.
But it seemed Kameron Maldonado didn’t care....
“What about my brother?” I asked.
“He’s going to be let
go. But I won’t report what he did to the police or to my associates. It’ll be kept between you and me. This is why I need you working as my assistant. Depending upon the fallout, I may need your help.”
“I’ll do anything I can to help.”
“Good. I expected you to say that. And, as far as that condition I mentioned . . .” His hand inched down my stomach, stopping just above my pubic bone. “I’m accustomed to getting exactly what I want, when I want.”
Despite the fact that I was so aroused, my panties were sodden, I whispered, somewhat coolly, “In other words, to keep my job, I have to sleep with you?”
“No, you’ll sleep with me because you want to. I won’t ask you to do that. I’ll only ask you to allow me the liberty to touch you whenever, however, and wherever I want.”
That was some “condition.” But it wasn’t exactly what I’d expected. By having pulled the actual act of intercourse off the table, Kameron had made it a little more palatable to me. I wouldn’t be forced to have sex with him. Though I could almost believe he was telling the truth when he said I would want to. The way he touched me made me melt. What girl could resist?
After a few moments I nodded. “You have yourself a new assistant.”
“Very good.” The hand that had been resting, hot but softly, above my mound wandered down my thigh. It found the hem of my skirt. “Open your legs for me.”
The way he’d said that made me melt, his voice husky. So, so sexy.
My face burning, I parted my knees slightly and watched as his gaze inched down my body. He placed one hand on each of my knees.
“Wider, Abigail.”
Oh God.
I moved them wider apart.
He shook his head. “Lift your hips.” He slid his hands under my butt and raised it off the chair. Then he pushed my skirt up and forced me back onto the chair. Now I was sitting there with my skirt wadded up around my waist and only a pair of cotton panties between his eyes and my most private parts.
What would he do next?
Hands on my knees, he pushed so they were opened in a wide vee. He visibly inhaled. “You smell so good, Abigail.”
My insides clenched. I felt a gush of liquid heat saturate the crotch of my panties. Already I was aching for him to touch me there, to slip a finger into my aching center and stroke. I couldn’t believe it. A throbbing need was building deep inside. With every second that passed it was getting worse.