by Holly Hart
I shake my head. “Ass,” I mutter.
Harlan stands up. “Speaking of…” He says. “How about you give me a little twirl?”
“I’m not your Barbie doll,” I mutter, pulling a face at him.
“You aren’t?” Harlan replies, teasingly. “In that case, tomorrow’s going to go really badly for you…”
“You can’t do that!” I say, standing up indignantly. “You can’t just keep dropping hints and not tell me anything!”
The truth is I’m desperate to know what Harlan has planned. I’m nervous as all hell. Knowing him, it’s going to push me to the very edge of what I can take. And then over.
Harlan reaches out and takes my hand. He pulls me towards him, spinning me in the process – and I’m pretty sure I see his eyes drop to take a good long look at my ass.
“Hey!” I protest – weakly. “I was asking you something.”
Harlan shrugs. “What can I say, darling?”
I shiver at the sound of that nickname. No one’s ever given me one before. It feels so good to be wanted. Good enough that I know I would do pretty much anything for this man. Even – and I hate it – wait for his surprise.
“I’m a difficult man,” he continues. “And I guess if you want us to stay together, you’ll have to get used to it.”
Stay together!
My brain’s still reeling at the suggestion that Harlan and I might have a real future together. But I turn professional Skye on, and silence the storm of curiosity now raging in my mind.
“Or change you,” I threaten. “Because trust me, I could. Hell…” I press my body against his, form a fist, and rap my knuckles gently against his head. “This little black box ain’t nothing. I could hack into it over a long weekend.”
“We already had one of those,” Harlan grins, looping his arms around my body and holding me tight. “And you didn’t manage to.”
I hike my eyebrow up. “Didn’t I?”
Harlan’s eyes flare with understanding. He knows as well as I do that the time we spent together in his cabin changed everything. We went from being two people, pulled together by mutual need, to being something much, much more.
Friends, lovers even.
A couple?
Harlan’s only reply is a kiss. I think it says everything. His lips graze mine, and his arm – hooked around my lower back – pulls me in tight. I feel his cock start to grow, and I resist the urge to shake my head.
He’s insatiable!
Then again, that’s exactly what I want. I want a man who can’t help but want me. I need a man who can’t help but need me. And Harlan is exactly that.
“Down, cowboy,” I say, my eyes twinkling as I pull away from Harlan’s searching kiss. “We’re waiting for tomorrow, remember…”
“Are we?” Harlan replies with mock indignation. “I never said anything about that. I just said to be ready tomorrow…”
I hear a thump outside my apartment – on the landing, but I ignore it. I’m used to people coming and going at all hours. It’s part and parcel of living in an apartment block in the middle of New York City. Between the college kids partying on the ground floor, and the old couple, who live by the roof moving furniture up and down at all hours of the day, there’s always something.
“You hear that?” Harlan says, crinkling his eyes. “Sounded like –”
I tangle my fingers into Harlan’s shirt. “Leave it,” I say, biting my lip suggestively. “I’ve got something more interesting in mind…”
Harlan frowns a second longer, but then shrugs. “Okay. I guess tomorrow can wait.”
“Aren’t you a gentleman,” I wink.
THUD.
“Skye!” A hoarse, slurring voice calls out. “I need you, doll.”
No, no, no. Not tonight. Not tonight of all nights.
“Who’s that?” Harlan says, his head snapping towards the door. “Want me to sort it out?”
My head slumps forward, impacting against Harlan’s solid, muscular chest. Any other time, I would have rubbed my sore forehead, but right now I’ve got bigger problems.
“No,” I groan.
“Seriously, Skye – if you’ve got some asshole neighbor bothering you, I’ll deal with it.”
My cheeks start burning red with a surge of embarrassment. I know I’ve explained my past to Harlan, but it’s one thing to talk about it in the quiet comfort of his cabin in the mountains – quite another to have it come surging back to life when he’s right here by my side.
“It’s not my neighbor,” I mutter, mortified, “you can’t fix this problem.”
Harlan squints at me, not understanding. It’s my fault, I’m not making it clear. I don’t want to explain the situation.
“Then what is it?” He says.
I sag into his arms, holding onto him for the last couple of seconds, feeding off his strength. Tears are prickling at the corners of my eyes. I’m so tired of this –yet I’m still the man’s daughter. I don’t have any other choice. He’s all I’ve got left.
“It’s my dad,” I admit, my throat choking up, as if fit to burst into tears.
Harlan pushes back. “Oh, Skye…” He says with a crushing look of pity on his face that hurts more than any words of his could. “You told me, I just –”
“Didn’t understand,” I say briskly, straightening myself up and preparing for what’s about to come. “It’s not your fault. There’s no way you could have. But I need you to leave.”
Harlan blinks. I can’t tell if he’s hurt or relieved. “I can stay,” he says firmly. “Help out.”
I shake my head and step back, wringing my hands. “No – it’s better if you don’t. And…” I tail off.
Harlan frowns, “And…”
“When you leave, just pretend –, pretend –”
Harlan nods his understanding. “Just pretend this was nothing more than a friendly dinner,” he says.
I nod. “I’m sorry, Harlan,” I say. “This isn’t how I wanted tonight to end…”
Harlan hugs me and gets ready to leave, “me neither, darling. But I’m not going anywhere.” He grins, as if realizing the absurdity of what he just said. “In the long run, I mean.”
“I know,” I smile wanly. “I know.”
There’s another – “thud” – outside, and then my dad’s voice echoes in the hallway. “Skye…” he slurs, “Skye!”
“I’ll go,” Harlan says, grazing my cheek with his lips. “And about tomorrow… it can wait.”
“No!” I say, startling myself with the intensity of my reaction. Somehow it feels like if I let dad disrupt tomorrow, like he’s done the last ten years, then I lose. “That’s the last thing I want.”
“Okay then,” Harlan smiles. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
And just like that, he turns to leave. I walk to the door without another word needing to be said. I kiss him once on the lips, close my eyes briefly, and then loosen the latch. I mouth, “thank you…” silently at him.
Then louder, I say. “Thanks for coming around, boss. And –”
I stop, my mind drawing a blank. I’m no good at this playacting thing.
Harlan takes my cue and runs with it.
“It really wasn’t a problem,” he says – while stepping over my father’s drunken body. I wince at the sight of the man’s matted ginger hair. “I’m just glad I got you the papers in time for you to sign.”
“Yes, yes,” I say, latching onto Harlan’s idea. “The papers. Thanks again.”
We share a smile at the absurdity of this role-playing. After all – of all the role-playing I thought I might do with a man like Harlan Wolfe, this is pretty tame! And then he walks toward the stairs.
I let my head drop forward for a second, then my eyes pass over my dad’s sprawled body.
“Skye…” He moans, holding his thumping head. “Who was that?”
“No one, dad,” I mutter. “Let’s get you inside.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Har
lan
Today’s the day.
I can barely believe it. Poppy is still on her school trip for another couple of days, almost the longest we’ve ever been apart. But that’s not why I’m excited. I’m excited because today’s the day I’m going to give Skye her first orgasm ever.
It sure as hell won’t be her last.
Because when I make her pop, I plan to keep on going. Skye’s going to be my girl – forever. I’ve never seen a girl as beautiful as her. And she will be just as beautiful when I walk her down the aisle as Skye Wolfe.
Hell, that’s got a ring to it, doesn’t it?
Skye Wolfe.
My wife?
Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. First thing’s first – I need to make her come. I need to show her what she’s been missing all these years. I’m going to.
I’m going to give her a night she’ll never forget. Then again, I’m going to fuck her so completely I doubt she’ll even be able to remember it!
My assistant, Jennifer, sprints into my office with a small black box in her hands. “I’ve got it,” she pants, thrusting the item towards me.
“The one from your top drawer, just like you asked.”
I open a door that looks like it should lead to a walk-in filing cabinet, but is actually just a pullout mirror. Just one of the little toys I had installed in this place, and one of the boring ones, at that.
“Thanks, Jen,” I say, checking myself out in my reflection.
I’m wearing a black tuxedo, white shirt, and leather shoes that have been shined within an inch of their life. For some reason, that’s one of the things I still do myself. It is strangely therapeutic – just a man, a tin of polish, and a rag.
It’s like meditation, I guess.
“Um, boss?” Jennifer says, chewing her lip anxiously.
I throw her a look over my shoulder. “Is everything okay? Because if it is, head home. I’m done for the night.”
I see a tumult of emotions play out on Jen’s face. I think I know what she’s about to ask me, but I want to hear if she’ll actually say it. I’ve given her an out, an opportunity to walk away without possibly provoking my anger.
She doesn’t take it.
I knew she wouldn’t. Because if Jennifer was the kind of person who could be that weak, I simply wouldn’t have hired her. After all, I do my homework.
“Boss – did I screw up?” She asks. “Only, I don’t see anything on your calendar for tonight, and –”
She tails off.
I grin, shooting an ostentatious look at my dinner outfit. “I’m all dressed up like I’m going on a date,” I say.
“Yeah…”
“Don’t worry about it. Tonight is…” I pause, thinking about how best to phrase what’s going to happen. “…Private.”
“Okay.” Jen breathes a sigh of relief. “I guess that’s fine, then.”
I smile at her. “Thanks, Jen. You did a good job today.”
Then I frown. Something’s been bugging me all day, and I’ve only just realized what it was. “Hey – did Garibaldi ever call back? It slipped my mind.”
Jen’s face turns ashen. I know that’s how I should feel about the prospect of tussling with a man that devious, but somehow I don’t. I’m way too excited about tonight.
“Shit –! I mean, no. Nothing through my office, anyway.”
I chew the inside of my lip. That’s strange. I knew I should have returned the man’s call straightaway. He’s too dangerous a player to simply leave hanging. Hell, I almost spilled the beans to Skye last night, and that would’ve been a terrible idea.
There’s no good in involving her in matters like that, after all. I’m supposed to be protecting her, not throwing her to the wolves.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say. “We can sort it out tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?” Jennifer asks anxiously. “I can stay late –?”
“Don’t worry about it. If he needs to speak to me that badly, he’ll call back,” I say, though I don’t truly believe it myself.
The fact that he rang in the first place is enough of a warning – a warning that apparently I’m too drunk on lust to take.
But what could one more night hurt?
“You head home,” I smile, dismissing my assistant. “I’ll finish up here.”
“Yes boss.”
I turn back to the mirror, straightening my jacket, and trying to ignore the sense of foreboding that is now gnawing at my stomach. The smart thing to do would be to cancel tonight and make sure that all my bases are covered. But the smart play is rarely the right one.
And the right thing to do is to give Skye the release that has eluded her all these years – the release that only I can give her.
I turn, bend down, and unlock the bottom drawer of my desk. A single gold-embossed, ivory black enamel box sits inside it, a small envelope on top. I haven’t touched it since it was delivered – hand-couriered – to my office two days prior.
I glance at the envelope, and tuck it into the breast pocket of my dinner jacket. I don’t need to look at what it contains. It’s an invitation – an invitation to Manhattan’s most exclusive club – to a club that doesn’t even have a name.
It has a very simple list of rules – a list that’s only one line long. You never, ever reveal the Club’s existence.
I open the box to reveal two finally sculpted masks. Skye’s is more elaborate – black, lined with gold thread, extending all the way to her cheeks. My breath catches in my throat as I picture my beautiful girl wearing it. Mine is rather simpler – a black and silver eye mask.
Ribbon streams out behind them as I pick them up. My heart pounds in my chest as I realize the significance of what I have planned for Skye tonight. It’s going to be the first night of the rest of both our lives.
Because it’s no masquerade ball I have planned.
Tonight’s the night that I pledge myself to Skye Warren. And the night she places herself in my hands, and surrenders – mind, body and soul.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Skye
I feel like a hurricane is raging through my stomach. Screw butterflies, if they were flying in the tumult I feel in my gut, they’d be ripped to shreds. I don’t know what Harlan has planned for me tonight, but I have a feeling that it is going to test my every last boundary.
Will I be able to handle it? Will I be able to handle him? I’m picturing Harlan unleashed, and that’s as terrifying an image as it is tempting.
I just don’t know the answers to my fears. How can I even hope to ask the question without a hint as to what Harlan has in store for me?
I simply can’t.
I check myself in my bedroom mirror one last time. The black silk dress Harlan had sent over for tonight – a throwback to the early days of our relationship – is elegant, yet luxuriously sexy. For once I don’t mind that he’s picking out my clothing.
Especially when he sends jewelry as magnificent as this necklace now kissing my throat...
I have a feeling that everything is about to come to a head, that Harlan’s plan is going to be made clear. Harlan was so struck by our breakthrough on the topic of control a few days ago that I know if he’s returned to it, there must be a reason.
For now, I’ll just go with the flow.
The beautiful, silk evening dress caresses my ankles, almost completely hiding a pair of thousand dollar Italian heels that look so delicate it’s hard to believe they can bear my weight without snapping. My ears sparkle with tens of thousands of dollars’ worth of diamonds, and my hair tumbles gleefully over one shoulder.
And that’s just what’s on the surface.
Beneath the black silk dress is black lace – lingerie I wouldn’t have dared to wear just a couple of weeks ago. The underwear isn’t so much skimpy as it is forthright – a statement of sexuality so dominant I can’t help but wonder if I have any right to wear it.
It seems made for another woman – a more confident woman, a girl who knows ho
w to use her body, not someone who’s barely scratching the surface.
But then, I muse. Maybe that’s who I’ll become tonight.
My phone buzzes on my wooden bedside table. I glance down, stepping back out of my own head, and free the phone from its charging cable. A simple message is written on the lock screen.
“I’m downstairs.”
Harlan doesn’t bother signing his name. After all, who would dare interfere with his woman? No one in this city, I daresay. I tremble with a mixture of fear and delight at the thought of what his wrath would be like if someone threatened me.
I can’t help but think they wouldn’t last the night.
I rush downstairs. The elevator ride is a blur, and when its doors open, Harlan’s waiting for me, dressed in a black tuxedo that seems to have been sprayed onto his body. His shoulders are outlined perfectly by the expensive material, his bowtie messily knotted with rakish exuberance.
“You made it,” he growls. His eyes widen, and flicker across my body as he appreciates my new look. “I thought you might back out of our little agreement.”
“Should I be worried?” I ask.
The tempest in my stomach has abated slightly, but it’s still rumbling away. I trust Harlan, but maybe that’s the thing that will bring me down…
Harlan holds out his arm and beckons me to join him. “Quickly,” he grins. “Before the elevator steals you back up…”
I link arms with him, and elbow him gently in the torso. It feels like hitting a brick wall. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Harlan guides me to the limo waiting outside, and opens the door for me. He holds his tongue until we are sitting next to each other on the back seat. The privacy screen is up, and we’re hidden in our own world. The limo engine rumbles and we start to move.
“Maybe nervous,” Harlan allows, “would be a better word to use than worried.”
I hike up my eyebrow. “So I should be nervous? That’s… disconcerting.”
“Yes, and no,” Harlan says softly, stroking my forearm. “Everything I’ll do tonight is for a reason, Skye. I’ve never done this with any other woman, I promise you that. But…”