The Dom: Steamy Boss Romance (Manhattan Records Book 2)

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The Dom: Steamy Boss Romance (Manhattan Records Book 2) Page 8

by M. S. Parker


  I made it to four before I came.

  My legs were weak when I climbed out of bed, but I was still in better shape than Ashlee. By the time I returned to the bed, she’d already passed out. After I’d cleaned her up, I took her into my bedroom without a second thought.

  It wasn’t until I climbed in next to her that I realized how much I was looking forward to this part of the night too. For the first time in my life, I wanted to fall asleep with a woman in my arms, and the realization freaked me out.

  Fortunately, I was tired enough to push that aside and wrap my arms around Ashlee. I was asleep before anything else could occur to me.

  Sixteen

  Ashlee

  This was not my bed.

  That was the first thing I realized when I woke up. The second thing was that someone had their arm around me. A muscular arm attached to someone who smelled really good.

  Everything came rushing back to me, and my eyes flew open. Nate was still asleep, his face only an inch or so from mine.

  Right. I was at Nate’s place. I’d talked to Finley. The three of us had eaten dinner. Nate and I’d had sex. But this didn’t look like the same room where we’d been the last time I remembered being awake.

  I was naked under the sheet and comforter, but I suspected Nate had cleaned me up before bringing me in here. He’d taken care of me, the way I’d known he would. As intense as last night had been, I’d never once felt like he didn’t have me. I was always safe with him.

  And it was because of how he made me feel that I’d wanted to please him. It was how I’d managed to endure that last, overwhelming, half-painful orgasm. The pleasure I’d felt had come as much from the pride I’d seen on Nate’s face as it had from the physical aspect of things.

  He hadn’t said anything, but I knew he’d been as stressed about Finley learning the truth as I had been. Still, he’d taken care of me and not himself. Now it was my turn to take care of him.

  I eased my way out of his grip and headed for the bathroom. My entire body ached more than it ever had before, and that wasn’t even counting the way everything between my legs was still throbbing. I was pretty sure that I didn’t want anything coming into contact with my clitoris at any point in the near future.

  Even the thought of washing made me frown.

  When I got out of the shower, I braided my hair rather than drying it, then went back into Nate’s bedroom, half-expecting him to already be awake, but he was still sleeping. In fact, he was now laying on his stomach, and the covers had shifted with him, leaving that gorgeous broad expanse of his well-muscled back bare for me to ogle for a minute before trying to decide what to wear.

  I hadn’t brought any clothes with me yesterday, so my choices were limited to what I’d been wearing last night and finding something in Nate’s closet. It didn’t take long for me to opt for the latter. I pulled a t-shirt from his top drawer and tugged it over my head. It hit me mid-thigh, which left plenty of skin bare, but I didn’t mind.

  I ambled into the kitchen, the tiles cool under my feet. I was hungry, and I knew Nate would be too when he woke up. The least I could do for him was make breakfast. I wasn’t quite up to his culinary skill level, but I could put together some basics at least.

  Toasted bagels with cream cheese. Two pears. And some cereal that surprised me with the cute cartoon character on the front. If I hadn’t known that he didn’t have kids, I might’ve thought he kept that stuff for his visitation weekends, but I’d already learned that Nate’s personality had a couple aspects hidden to pretty much everyone.

  The way his face lit up when he came out of the bedroom told me I was right. That cereal was one of his little things, something I was privileged to see, and it warmed me, knowing that I had a little piece of him that very few other people had.

  “Thank you for making breakfast,” he said as he poured himself coffee from the pot that’d just finished brewing.

  I watched to see how he took his drink, filing the information away for future use. I was surprised at how much I liked being able to take care of him. This entire dynamic between us was different than any sort of relationship I’d ever imagined, let alone what I would’ve pictured for a ‘nontraditional’ sort of thing.

  Non-vanilla? I made a mental note to research some terminology and then remembered that Nate had told me that he was going to be my teacher. I needed to find out if that included general definitions, or I could end up getting punished again.

  I blushed as I remembered how much I’d enjoyed my punishments so far, though that wasn’t a sentiment I would’ve felt comfortable sharing with just anyone. Before I’d gotten involved with Nate, I never would’ve understood the appeal of something that sounded humiliating, or worse, cruel. What we’d done hadn’t been either of those things. A little embarrassing, maybe, but that had been more because of the standards society had ingrained in me from a young age. What things were ‘acceptable’ and what weren’t. Even as open-minded as I’d been raised by my ‘different’ mothers, there’d still be certain things we hadn’t discussed.

  “There’s a whole lot going on in that head of yours right now, isn’t there?” Nate asked before taking a bite of his bagel.

  “There’s usually a lot going on in my head,” I admitted. “My mom always says I think too much about everything.” I took a sip of the coffee I’d poured but essentially ignored. It was still hot enough to be good.

  “What are you thinking now?” he asked, the interest in his eyes genuine. He wasn’t just making small talk because he felt like it was expected of him.

  “A lot,” I admitted. He made a motion with his hand, wanting me to continue. “I was wondering if what this was between us would be considered non-traditional or not-vanilla, or if there was a better word for it. And that made me think that I needed to research…except you’d told me that you wanted to be the only one teaching me. That led me to punishments…” I let my voice trail off as I revealed the reason I’d blushed.

  “I see,” he said thoughtfully. He finished off his bagel, brushed the crumbs from his fingers, and then reached for the cereal. “I don’t like calling sex ‘vanilla’ like that’s some sort of insult. I happen to like vanilla-flavored things.”

  That wasn’t where I thought he’d take the conversation, but I was more than willing to follow him. “Do you think ‘non-traditional’ is better?”

  He shrugged. “I generally use whatever terms are acceptable wherever I am or whoever I happen to be talking to, but I’ve never really thought about it other than the whole ‘vanilla’ thing. What do you think we should call it?”

  I loved that he asked my opinion, but I had no idea.

  Until I did.

  “Maybe we can just say that it’s ours, and we don’t need a label. We’re together and what that means for that particular aspect of our relationship isn’t anyone’s business but ours.”

  He reached over and lifted my hand to his mouth, brushing his lips across my knuckles in one of those tender gestures that didn’t seem to exist anywhere outside of historical romances.

  “It’s ours. I like that.” He squeezed my fingers before setting my hand back down again.

  The phone he’d set next to his plate buzzed, breaking the moment. He gave me an apologetic smile as he glanced down at the screen, but I wasn’t bothered by it. He was the CEO of a huge company, and this wasn’t some planned getaway where he’d promised to leave work at the office. I was the one throwing his schedule off by being here.

  His mouth flattened, and all of the humor left his face. Not just the humor either. Creases appeared at the corners of his mouth, and a shadow passed over his eyes. Despite how serious he now looked, he didn’t tap his screen and instead flipped the phone over.

  “A break from the real world sounds like a good plan for this morning.” His smile was strained, and it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  “I’m all for that,” I said, reaching out for him this time. “But if you want to talk about what’s goi
ng on, you can tell me anything. You told Finley I’m your girlfriend and being there whenever you need to talk is the sort of girlfriend / boyfriend thing I want us to have.”

  For nearly a minute, I waited in silence, certain he’d thank me but turn our conversation away from whatever was on his mind. When he spoke, however, I could hear the undercurrent of relief in his words.

  “I have two brothers, one older, one younger.”

  Common enough information, but I didn’t say so.

  “A little more than ten years ago, my younger brother, Joshua, and I had a falling out, and he ended up moving to L.A. We haven’t spoken since.”

  My heart broke for him. I knew all too well what it was like to lose a member of the family, not by death, but by choice.

  “Now, he’s back in New York, and he wants the family to get together.”

  He pulled his hand free from mine and poured milk over his cereal. It wasn’t until he began to eat that I realized he wasn’t going to add anything else. I finished off my pear before saying anything, not wanting to seem like I was pushing him.

  “You don’t talk about your family much.”

  “That’s intentional.”

  His tone was terse, but the attempt he made to smile told me my question wasn’t responsible for the tone.

  “Has Stu said anything about you going to the Golden Words release party next week?”

  The change of subject was intentional too, I had no doubt, but I wasn’t going to call him on it. While it may have felt like the two of us had been together for a while considering the emotional rollercoaster we’d been on from moment one, it hadn’t been long at all. Even shorter if we only counted the time from when we’d accepted that we were in a relationship. We’d eventually get to the point where sharing our pasts would be as natural as the physical part of our relationship was, but until then, I’d take each situation as it came.

  “I’ve been working on the guest list, and I’m not on it, so I think it’s pretty safe to say Mr. Hancock isn’t considering it.”

  “Good.” Nate grinned at my surprised expression, and I was relieved to see that his humor was creeping back. “If you’re not going as an employee, I can take you as my date, and there’s no conflict of interest.”

  I wasn’t sure that was entirely true, but I wasn’t going to turn down being on Nate’s arm as something more than I had been before. Being with him was what made all the other shit worth it.

  Seventeen

  Nate

  The expression on Finley’s face when he knocked on my office door told me that this wasn’t going to be a friendly chat. He had something on his mind, and it didn’t take much imagination to figure out what it was even before he spoke. I doubted he’d been thinking about anything else this past weekend. I wouldn’t have if I’d been in his shoes.

  “Do you have a few minutes?” he asked. His tone was polite, but there was a steel to it that he’d never had with me before.

  If I said no, he’d ask when we could talk, and it would only put off things. That wouldn’t be good for either of us. Better to get everything out in the open as soon as possible.

  “Sure.” I turned my attention away from my computer and gave it all to him. I folded my hands in front of me and waited for him to sit. When he did, I gave him the opening to get the conversation going. “I’m assuming you’re here about Ashlee.”

  “I am.” He seemed to struggle to find the right words and finally sighed. “Look, Nate, I’ve known you for a long time, and I like to think that I know you better than most.”

  He paused, waiting for a response.

  “Both true.”

  He continued, “I’ve watched you go through girlfriends and ‘partners’ the same way every time.”

  Also true, but I didn’t say it this time because I knew where he was going with this.

  “You can’t treat Ashlee that way.”

  I appreciated that he didn’t dance around it. “I don’t, and I won’t.”

  “I value our friendship,” he said, “but I don’t know if it would survive if you mistreat her.” He held up a hand to stop the protest I was already forming. “I know you’d never abuse her. You’re not that kind of man. But you’re also not known for your kindness, especially when it comes to relationships. You treat them like business transactions, and I only ever speak up about it when it affects the company. But not with Ashlee. Even if she wasn’t working here, I’d have to tell you that you can’t fuck around with her heart.”

  I was torn between wanting to tell him that I was grateful that he was looking out for the woman I cared about and flipping him off for acting like he had any right to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do.

  What came out was neither.

  “You don’t know Ashlee.” The words sounded harsher than I’d intended, and I took a second to soften the next statement. “For all we know, she might not be your daughter.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I believe her.”

  “I do too,” I agreed, then clarified, finally giving voice to the thought I’d had running through my head ever since she told me her story. “I believe that she believes. I don’t doubt that she went to that clinic and saw your name. I don’t doubt that she is certain she didn’t make a mistake.”

  “But you think she did.”

  I shrugged. “I think that there’s a chance, and she hasn’t let herself consider that. It was a quick look. Your name may have caught her eye for other reasons. The records could be wrong. There are some valid possibilities.”

  He was silent for nearly a full minute, and I didn’t interrupt him. It was a lot to think about. Any other man would’ve demanded a paternity test right off the bat. Or at least after the shock had worn off.

  Finley hadn’t even blinked. He’d accepted her story without question. Well, he’d had questions, but none of them had been about the validity or accuracy of her story.

  “You think I should dig a little deeper,” he said at last. “You want me to take this lovely, sweet young woman and pick apart her story so I can know for certain that she shares my DNA?”

  “I don’t think a paternity test would be too much to ask,” I admitted. “Do you both want to get involved in each other’s lives as father and daughter only to find out at some point down the road that she was wrong?”

  He stood up. “If Ashlee wants to talk to you about this, that’s her choice, but unless she does, you need to stay out of it. How she and I handle things is between us. It’s not your concern.”

  He walked out before I could tell him that it damn well was my concern. Anything to do with Ashlee was. She was part of my life, and I wasn’t going to see her hurt by anyone.

  Except my history warned that it would probably be me who’d hurt her in the end.

  Eighteen

  Ashlee

  I was starting to believe that my relationship with Nate might work. Things had already gotten calmer now that Finley knew about me. Sure, it was bound to be a little awkward between him and Finley. One was my father, and I was sleeping with the other one, and they were friends. That sounded like the perfect recipe for awkwardness.

  But everything else was looking up, and I was sure that they’d get used to it.

  The best thing about today, however, was the fact that it was sunny and warm. Considering it was still the first week of April, that was practically a miracle, and I intended to thoroughly enjoy my walk back to the Manhattan Records building after my lunch.

  As I came inside, I waved at the temp manning the reception desk and got a smile back. Today was Wayne Ray’s second day, but I was pretty sure he still felt intimidated by the sheer scope of his duties. Not that he let anyone see it. When I’d first walked over and introduced myself yesterday, I’d learned that I’d gone to school with his sister, Sandra. She and I had been more friendly than friends, but she’d been the one who’d helped me keep up with my classes the times I’d missed to take care of my mother. The very least I could do was help her broth
er.

  And right now, it looked like he needed all the help he could get. An absolutely massive man, close to six and a half feet tall with broad shoulders, was walking toward the desk from where one of the security guards loomed, guarding access to the elevators.

  As I got closer, I heard the stranger confirm my guess about what was going on. “Your guard over there said I need to talk to you if I want to get any farther than this lobby.”

  “Um, yes, sir,” Wayne said, his fingers twisting together as he stared up at a man far larger and more intimidating than him. “Do you have an appointment with someone in the building?”

  “I’m here to see Nathanial Lexington. Manhattan Records.”

  I stepped up next to the stranger, and he glanced down at me. Unruly strawberry blond hair and light blue eyes…and some familiar features. A suspicion nibbled at the back of my mind.

  “I work there,” I said. “Maybe I can help you.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Wayne breathe a sigh of relief. I didn’t blame him. I wouldn’t have wanted to tell someone who looked like this guy that he couldn’t see Nate without an appointment.

  “Hi.”

  The guy smiled, and I knew who he was before he said it.

  “I’m Joshua Lexington, Nate’s brother.” He held out his hand, and I shook it.

  “I’m Ashlee Webb, Nate’s girlfriend.”

  His eyes widened, but I wasn’t offended. Besides the fact that I didn’t look like the women Nate usually dated, I’d already suspected he hadn’t told them about me. The only way any of them would’ve recognized me would’ve been if they’d seen pictures of Nate and me, and even then, I wouldn’t have been mentioned as a girlfriend.

 

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