“That’s it, baby. I knew you could do it.” He caressed her breasts, her belly, her neck, teasing her everywhere while he praised her. “One more, baby. Do it for me.”
She tipped her head into his palm as he cupped her chin. She gasped for breath as she waited for the inevitable whir of the vibrator to start up again.
He let her rest this time first. Almost too long. She was just coming down from her high when she was yanked back to full arousal.
“Control, baby. Fight it.”
For him, she would. For Carlton, she would master this desire of his.
And she did, luxuriating in the deep grip of her channel as waves of pleasure took her into another dimension…without a movement or a sound.
As she endured his test, she had two thoughts. One, that if she passed this test he might declare her trained and break off their arrangement. That idea made her stomach clench. Because her second thought was that she was deeply in love with Carlton and never wanted this agreement to end.
Chapter Sixteen
On Sunday morning, Carlton decided she could sit on the furniture. When he first told her, she was shocked, but she’d misunderstood completely. His new position for her wasn’t on a chair, but on the table itself.
She sat naked, one foot from the edge of the table at his chair, her legs bent, her feet planted, her knees spread wide.
Carlton liked to sit between her legs, and who was she to argue? It was sexy as hell having him watch her pussy while he ate and fed her.
“What time are you supposed to be at your parents’?”
She rolled her eyes. “I was hoping you’d forgotten and we could let that one slide.”
He lifted a brow and smiled. “Nope. You need to face them. Your life is in a holding pattern while you let that fester.” Carlton pushed back from the table, loaded the dishwasher and wiped his hands on a dishtowel. He leaned against the counter, his legs crossed, his stance making her lick her lips. “What time, baby?”
“One.”
He padded forward, lifted her from the table and set her on her feet. “I set clothes on the bed for you.”
She cringed. What would he choose for her to wear to her parents’ house?
“Don’t look at me like that. They’re decent.” He headed for the living room. “Oh, I forgot shoes. They’re in the orange box to the left inside the closet.”
“Got it, Sir.” She wiggled her ass at him as she left the room.
Margaret made quick work of dressing in the outfit he’d set out, grateful for the jeans and soft sweater that wouldn’t leave her feeling vulnerable at her parents’. He’d even included a bra. No panties, but she could live without them under her jeans.
She headed for the closet next. Orange box… It was high and she reached up on tiptoes to nudge it forward so it would topple into her hands.
It came down, just as she’d planned, but unexpectedly it careened into her hard, the lid falling off, and the contents flying into the air.
Not shoes, to her surprise, but papers…and photos…and documents…
She squealed, but not loud as the mess rained all around her. Ugh. Wrong box.
She kneeled on the floor to gather all the pages and stack them up to put them back in the box.
And then she froze.
Her breath caught in her throat. Slowly, her eyes glued to several photos, she lowered herself to the floor and sat on her ass. Her hand shook as she reached for one of the pictures. Her eyes scanned the pieces of paper, memories from a lifetime ago. Carlton’s memories.
Karen.
Her name was on everything. Soft, feminine handwriting covered the pages as she glanced around. Heart-shaped doodles scrawled on the corners of notebook paper. Love letters.
Oh God.
Her gaze went back to the picture gripped in her hand. She scrambled to grab several others and laid them out in front of her.
A chill went down her spine. “Fuck,” she whispered.
“Baby, are you—” His words cut off as he stepped into the closet and found her there, pieces of his past circling her, reaching for her, taunting her.
For a brief second, she felt sorry for him. He’d loved this girl so much he’d kept her alive in an orange box in his closet.
But then her focus landed on the picture in her hand again and she dropped it like a hot potato. Her vision blurred. Rage like nothing she’d ever felt swarmed in to eat her alive. She leaped to her feet and jumped away from the remnants of a life that was no more. Or was it?
“Baby…” He reached for her.
She jerked from his grasp, backing into the bedroom, her fists squeezing tight at her sides. “Carlton.” Disbelief crowded her brain, fogging it, making it difficult to think or feel properly. And then she screamed, “She’s fucking me! You, you, you—”
She shook her head, trying to clear it, make sense of this insanity. She glanced back at the floor. Karen stared back at her, smiling, mocking her. Or was it a mirror?
“No, baby. Let me explain.” He inched toward her, palms out, pain in his voice.
Not the kind of pain she was feeling, but more of a sorrow from being caught red-handed.
“Explain what?” she shouted. “Explain that you found a woman who looked just like your old girlfriend and thought you could replace her? That’s fucked up, Carlton. Even for you.” She heaved for oxygen. She needed to get out of there. She spun on her heel and ran for the bedroom door.
“Maggie, no.” Carlton was right behind her. He reached for her forearm, but she yanked it from his grasp.
“No. Don’t touch me.” She twisted in circles, looking for her purse. It was by the door, of course, where it always was. She took long strides to get there, heedless of her bare feet.
All she cared about was getting the fuck out of the house, and now.
“Baby, stop. Sit down. Let me talk.” He kept to her back, not touching her, but not giving her an inch of space either.
She rounded on him with her hand on the door to the garage. “Don’t.” She held up a hand. “Let me go, Carlton. I swear to God, if you have a decent bone in your body, you’ll let me go.” She didn’t know where she would go or what she would do, but she did know she needed to get out of this house for now and think. She needed space.
He stopped, close enough she could see his chest rise and fall, feel his breath hitting her shoulders. She didn’t meet his gaze. She lowered her voice. “Let me go, Carlton.”
He nodded. “I hate you driving like this.” His hands shook at his sides.
“I know.” It was ironic that his worst fears had all tumbled together into one moment in time, but it couldn’t be helped. He was going to have to get over it. “I need to get out of here. You have to let me. We’ll talk later after I’ve had some time.”
He nodded again.
Carlton gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles hurt. Maggie had been gone for an hour. Too long. Eventually he couldn’t take the stress any longer. He’d paced a hole in his carpet.
He’d gathered up the mess in the closet and stuffed it back in the box. He berated himself for his stupidity. He was worried out of his mind.
And then he’d gotten in the car. She surely had gone to her apartment. He knew she wouldn’t go to her parents yet. It was too early in the morning, and besides, it would be hard for her to go there even under the best of circumstances. Her car wasn’t at her apartment or her office. That left one place, and he pulled into the parking lot of Emergence, breathing out the biggest sigh of relief ever.
He gave a silent prayer to whoever would listen up above and then turned off the car and dragged himself to the back entrance of the club.
He let the door shut hard behind him, announcing his arrival, and followed the sound of voices to Jason’s office. When he finally rounded the corner, his shoulders slumped in relief
. No matter what, he was just glad she was alive. If he never had the opportunity to touch her again because of his damn stupidity, he could at least rest easier knowing he hadn’t caused her to crash her car on the way over.
She sat on the couch, curled in a ball with her knees pulled to her chest, a throw tossed over her legs. Her face was red from crying, dry streaks from tears on her cheeks. She held a wad of tissues in one hand and several littered the floor next to her.
Jason sat in a chair nearby. He turned toward Carlton, a wan smile on his face. As Carlton stepped farther into the room, Jason stood. He nodded at Carlton and left without saying a word, closing the door to his own office behind him.
Carlton eased into the seat Jason had vacated. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
She stared at him, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands. Her tears had probably dried up before he’d arrived and now fell anew. “Tell me.”
He looked at her, trying to decide what she meant.
“Tell me when you decided I was not a replacement for your dead girlfriend. Or did you?”
“Of course I did, baby.”
“When? Before you fucked me for the first time? Was it before you took me as your submissive? Was it before I fell so hard for you I can’t stand to be without you?”
“Yes. Before all of those things.” He sucked in oxygen at her last words.
She swallowed visibly. “I’m not Karen.” Her voice was weak. “I can never be her. And I’m not a replacement.”
“I know that.”
“Tell me more.”
He knew exactly what she meant this time. He leaned forward, wanting to be closer to her, but not risking her wrath by touching her. “The first time you came to the club, you took my breath away. I thought you were a ghost. That was a year and a half ago. I almost couldn’t stand to be in the same room with you for fear I would inadvertently reach out and touch you to see if you were real.
“You were with Lori. You weren’t mine to touch.”
She stared at him, not moving, so he continued. “Yes, you looked like her. Like Karen. The resemblance was uncanny at first. But then I got to know you, and you’re nothing like her. Your personality is so distinct there’s no comparison.
“Eventually I forgot most of the time that you even looked like her in the first place. You took on your own glamour with your uniqueness. Your smile lights up a room with genuine delight. Your complex mind is a wonder to behold when you’re in the zone. And your submission…baby…your submission is humbling.”
She stared at him for long moments, holding his gaze. Finally she licked her lips and wiped her eyes with her tissue. “Tell me you haven’t been sleeping with a dead girl.”
He let a tear of his own slip down his face. “I’ve never looked into your eyes with my cock inside you and thought of anyone but my Maggie. I swear.” He lowered onto his knees in front of her, bringing his face close to hers.
“Your Maggie?”
“Yes. Mine.” He took a deep breath. It was time to get his head out of his ass. “You’re mine, Maggie. I’ve been an ass to pretend otherwise. I was scared. I never wanted to fall in love again with anyone. When Karen died, she took a piece of me with her. I’ve lived without that for all these years. And then you waltzed into my office and sucked the life out of me with your submission. I love you so much it hurts. You’re my life, Maggie. My soul. I’ve never felt this way before, not with Karen, and not with anyone since then.” He tentatively took her hand and turned it over to kiss her palm and then place it against his cheek.
“Do you have any other secrets lurking around you need to divulge? I can’t take much more of this, Carlton.”
He exhaled as a smile spread across his face. She was going to forgive him. Give him another chance. “None. I promise.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.” He leaned closer. “Please come home with me.”
“Get rid of the box.”
“Done.”
“Don’t ever call me by her name.”
“I would never.”
“I’m my own person.”
“I’m so very clear on that.”
“And I love you.”
“I—” His throat caught. He blinked. “What?”
“You heard me.” She smiled again.
“I know. But just to be clear?”
“I love you, Carlton. Even though that was a shitty thing to do and you should have told me, it doesn’t change how I feel.”
“I should have told you. You’re right. Can you say that one more time?”
“I love you.” She didn’t wait for him to kiss her. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him first, a deep, sensual kiss that curled his toes and made him melt into her body, right in Jason’s office.
Margaret’s palms were sweaty as she stared at her parents’ front door. After a morning that had ripped her in two and put her back together, she was exhausted. But Carlton had convinced her to keep this lunch date and face her fears.
She’d worried about driving here by herself. Carlton hadn’t said a word. Of course he had no idea about her other fears. She knew she should have come clean with him that morning about her concerns and the notes and the possibility that someone was following her. But she’d been too exhausted to fight that battle, and everything had been so perfect. She hated to ruin the moment. She would tell him later. Adding that to the stress of facing her parents and facing his dead girlfriend hadn’t been in the cards this morning.
And she figured she would surely be safe in the middle of the day in a residential neighborhood. She hadn’t noticed a single person following her today. Not now and not earlier when she’d fled to see Jason at his office.
She could hear voices inside. She knew she was the last to arrive. She’d intentionally come late and hoped to leave early. The less time she spent at the house, the better. Especially since she couldn’t very well confront her parents about her childhood issues on a day when the extended family was also present.
She finally lifted her hand and knocked. It seemed silly since these were her parents, but she didn’t feel like this was her home. She wiped her hands on her jeans as she waited. She was glad for the outfit Carlton had chosen. It was perfect.
When the door finally opened, her mother stood there with a beaming smile on her face. “What are you knocking for?” She grabbed Margaret with both hands and pulled her in for a hug. It actually felt good. She hadn’t seen her mother in months. “Come in, honey. Come in.” She pointed over her shoulder. “Your aunt and uncle are already here. And your cousin Robbie.”
Margaret cringed as she followed her mother into the living room. She hadn’t seen Robbie in years. Something about him had always rubbed her wrong. Uncle Rocky and Aunt Barbara had three sons. All of them were older than Margaret. They were close in age and had seemed more like friends to each other than brothers. They’d given her the heebie-jeebies even as children.
Of course it might have had something to do with the fact that she considered them egotistical bigots like her parents and their parents. Even as a child, she’d hated them. They’d gang up on her and taunt her like a little sister instead of a special cousin. Her dad would always tell her to toughen up. He actually encouraged them to bully her, saying she was weak and needed better influences in her life.
“Hey, squirt.” Robbie was the first to greet her when she entered the room, and of course he couldn’t say something adult and polite. No, he still talked down to her like she was a child.
She chose to ignore him in favor of smiling as warmly as she could conjure at her aunt and uncle. She hadn’t seen them in months either, not since the last holiday function. Even at twenty-seven years old, she felt as though they smiled back at her condescendingly, with some sort of misguided disapproval.
It unnerved her, but she stuffed it to th
e back of her mind.
Her uncle spoke first, even before her father. “How’ve you been?”
“Good. Work is good.”
“Are you still with that accounting firm?”
“I am. I love it there.”
Her father cleared his throat. “Nice of you to grace us with your presence.”
Margaret fought to keep her face straight and her body from quivering. Don’t let him get to you. She took a seat in the armchair next to the couch, crossing her legs and tucking her hands under her thighs to keep from fidgeting.
“Can I get you something to drink, dear?” her mother asked.
“I’m fine, Mom. Thank you.”
Luckily, everyone’s attention was diverted to Robbie when he began to ramble on about his latest accomplishments in advertising. The man was thirty-four years old and he still needed to steal the limelight to prove himself worthy of his parents’ respect.
Margaret’s mother spoke again when Robbie finished his discourse. “Margaret, why don’t you and Barbara come out back with me? It’s such a nice day. We can sit on the patio.”
Somewhat relieved, Margaret followed her mother through the kitchen and out the back door. Barbara copied her, right on her heels.
It was pleasant outside. Plus, something about the open air eliminated some of the tension that filled the inside of the house like a gaseous substance waiting for the right moment to explode.
They chatted pleasantly for several minutes, and Barbara and her mother took turns questioning her about her job. Pointedly, neither one of them asked her about her love life. And thank God for that.
Margaret’s mother glanced at her watch. “Oh. The roast should be about done. Margaret, would you please go give your father a fifteen-minute warning?”
Margaret tried not to roll her eyes. After all, this had been her mother’s way ever since Margaret could remember. She’d always let her husband know at precisely what moment dinner would be served. The man hated when his food wasn’t ready on time.
Margaret nodded and turned to enter the house, thinking this day wasn’t going as badly as she’d expected. Of course, with her aunt, uncle and Robbie in attendance, she had no intention of confronting her parents about anything. That alone had lifted a huge weight off her shoulders. At least for today.
Bound to be Tempted: Emergence, Book 4 Page 20