by Andra Lake
“You’re welcome,” I said embarrassedly and glanced away before continuing. It was obvious he was waiting for the answer to his question. It was the reason he was trying to get to know me and make me trust him. I had to remember that, despite how I might feel.
“You asked if I will give it a shot, and as much as seeing your pictures surprised me, I can’t do what you want.”
“You can’t work for me?”
I shook my head. “I would feel like a prostitute. Especially moving into your guest bedroom.”
Dallon nodded and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “That was crass. I didn’t think that through very well.” He sighed, ran a hand through his hair. “Despite my experiences with women, I feel like I have very little experience with women.”
I smiled a small smile and took a sip of my wine. He wasn’t doing so bad, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.
“I can see how you took it that way. The thing is, I don’t view you that way—I don’t view any woman that way—but I wanted you to be there all the time. I was selfish.”
“I’m kind of surprised you wanted that, to be honest. I mean, I thought you were the type of man that was with a lot of women and wouldn’t want to make them breakfast, let alone have them move in.”
He narrowed his eyes at me again and I wished I hadn’t spoken. The wine was making me too bold. I waited for him to speak, feeling both uncomfortable and needy.
“This was different. I wanted the situation to work between us and had no idea how to go about it. I didn’t originally plan for anyone to move in, but at the end of the session, the idea just... popped into my mind.”
This surprised me. I’d honestly believed that having a live-in plaything had been his plan all along.
“I wanted to take more photos that night, but I knew that I had to stop. We hadn’t signed a contract and I was afraid I’d gone too far. I should say, I knew I’d gone too far. I was worried you might run.”
I looked down, grateful that he’d admitted that. I hadn’t thought he’d seemed worried about me running at the time—in fact, I’d thought he’d seemed arrogant—but now I was starting to wonder whether I had just made assumptions about Dallon King based on his job, looks, and the confident and commanding way he held himself. He’d appeared to me to be a man that was used to getting what he wanted and had life work out for him. I’d assumed women didn’t turn him down.
“And then you did,” he said, finishing both of our last thoughts.
I bit my lip. It felt like he was waiting for an apology, or maybe I felt like I should, but I didn’t. I shifted in my chair before finally responding with another question I had been dying to ask.
“Is that one of the reasons you’ve been so persistent? Because you’re not used to getting turned down?”
He smirked. “If only I were that easy to figure out.”
I smiled. I had to agree with that.
“So, your place,” he said, changing his demeanor and effectively ending the tension that had been building between us. “Do you have a picture of it?”
I would have lied, but I felt like my phone was burning a hole in my purse, and we had promised to be honest. Reluctantly, I dug through it and pulled out my phone. I found the picture, but when he reached to take the phone from me, I pulled back suddenly.
His brows shot up quizzically.
“You have to promise not to get all judgmental about it.”
He looked offended. “Why would I do that?”
“Because your place is gorgeous, and I am going to be living in a studio apartment in Brooklyn. Besides, Sam already gave me the lecture.”
“Hmm,” he said, taking the phone from me. “That doesn’t make me feel too good about your new place. You should work on your openers.”
I watched as he scrolled through the three pictures I had, his face impassive. Maybe he sensed me staring at him and had turned on his poker face.
“Okay,” he said and handed me back my phone.
My mouth fell open. I wanted to punch him. “That’s all you’re going to say? You’re not even going to pretend to like it?”
He shrugged. “Why would I?”
I crossed my arms. “Because it’s the courteous and socially acceptable thing to do.”
He splayed his hands and sat back in his seat. “You know how I feel. I’d rather you live at my place.”
“Still?”
“Still.”
We stared each other down, me glaring and his gaze like steel. He’d admitted he knew it was crass, and yet he made no attempt to hide that he still wanted it. If we lived in a different century, we could be having a conversation about me becoming his mistress.
I had a feeling he wasn’t going to back down.
“I think it’s time for me to go home,” I said, standing up and picking up my purse.
“As you wish. Arnold will take us.”
“Us?” I froze.
“Yes, I’ll accompany you home.”
“I’ll be okay, thank you.” I turned quickly, slinging my purse on my shoulder and starting toward the door.
“Wait,” he said in his commanding tone. I paused and heard him push back his chair, and then he was in front of me, blocking my path. “You’re not taking the subway at this time of night. It isn’t safe.”
Oh wow, he was good. I rolled my eyes for his benefit, but somewhere I was secretly pleased. Whether or not it was for the right reasons, it felt nice to have someone worry about me. I watched his lips as he made the call and wondered again what it would be like to kiss him. He was probably a very good kisser.
Dallon snapped his phone closed. “I don’t have to accompany you, but I’m going to stick around until the car comes and make sure you’re safe.”
“Okay.” I rolled my eyes again.
He frowned. “Hasn’t a boyfriend ever made sure you’ve gotten home safely before? Taken care of you?”
I glanced away, betraying that no, I’d never had a boyfriend like that.
Dallon grunted. “Makes sense.”
I knew what he was getting at—that I was distrusting and skeptical—but I wasn’t going to let him get to me. “Thank you for looking out for me.”
He gave me a small nod. Together, we left the bar and stood on the street, waiting for the car. Suddenly it felt like we had just met again, not like we’d spent the last hour or so talking over drinks and getting to know one another. The realization saddened me.
“When do you move into your new place?” He asked to break the silence.
“Tomorrow.”
“Has your friend—Sam—moved out?”
“She did a few days ago.”
He cleared his throat. “Do you need any help?” he asked it in a tone that sounded like he either didn’t want to or wasn’t sure if he should offer.
“I’m good. Thanks.”
Arnold arrived and Dallon opened the door for me so I could climb in. Instead, I gave him a curt nod and said, “Have a good night,” before turning and walking away. Behind me, I heard him curse softly. I’d only taken a few steps when he appeared in front of me, his arm on my elbow.
“Don’t be infuriating. Get in.”
“Let me go, Mr. King,” I said, my eyes shooting daggers into his. For some reason, I felt like I could burst into tears on the spot. “I’m taking the subway.”
His cheek twitched, but he released me. “Please get in the car. It isn’t safe.”
“I’ve been taking it for a while now. I’ll be fine.” I moved past him, conscious of the way he balled his hands into fists, as if holding himself back. But he let me pass.
“Goodnight, Miss Clair,” I heard him say over his shoulder.
Chapter Seven
When I got home, I called Jeremy.
“Hey, Amy! How’s it going?”
“You told him where I work?”
There was a moment of silence on the line before he responded, sounding guilty. “Yeah, I kind of did. I take it you’re not pleased?”
I sighed and sat down on my bed, wrapped the covers around me. “He showed up.”
“I kind of expected he would.”
I frowned. “Why’d you tell him?”
“It wasn’t like I meant to. We just had a meeting with their firm and I was making small talk with him. I told him we have a mutual friend and then he started asking questions about you.” Jeremy paused for a moment. “He seemed very interested in you.”
So Jeremy had used me to make conversation with Dallon King. I couldn’t really fault him for that; he didn’t know what had happened between us.
“What’s going on with you two, Amy? Why is it such a big deal he went to your work?”
I sighed. “It’s nothing, Jer. I’m sorry for freaking out. I was just surprised and Dallon King can be… pushy.”
I could practically hear Jeremy’s smile. “That’s because he wants you. It’s Dallon King’s way.”
I was glad we were having this conversation over the phone so he couldn’t see me blush. “Yeah, well, nothing is going to happen.”
Jeremy laughed. “Sure, Amy. Look, I’ve got to go—I’m out with Isobel’s friends. I take it you’re not coming by anymore?”
I had been so caught up in my own drama, I’d forgotten Jeremy had wanted me to meet his new girlfriend that night. Who was the bad friend now?
“Oh jeez, I’m sorry, Jer—I totally forgot when he showed. And then we went for drinks. Another time, okay?”
Jeremy chuckled. “All right, Amy. Have a good night.”
“You too.”
I hit END and ran a hand through my hair, let it fall around my shoulders messily. My phone pinged and I opened my text messages to find them empty before checking my email.
Dearest A,
Thank you again for letting me keep the pictures. I’m lonely without the other ones, however ;).
Thank you also for spending the evening with me. Please let me know that you made it home all right,
—D.
I blushed as an image of Dallon King with his trademark, piercing blue eyes appeared in my mind, winking and telling me that he missed the other pictures. I swallowed hard. With shaky hands, I opened up my email and looked at the picture he’d sent me, one of the two that I had deleted. It was now the only copy of the spanking photos that existed—if I could trust that Dallon had really deleted the trail, that is.
His words ran through my mind: “I’m not asking if you enjoyed getting spanked, though I’m dying to ask.”
No.
I could feel myself getting riled up again, despite the nice time we’d had together, so I closed my email, jumped out of bed and paced my room a few times before I began changing.
How could anyone like getting spanked?
As I marched into the bathroom and began brushing my teeth, my anger grew until I was fuming that he had actually had the balls to ask me that question. I was also angry that it was getting to me.
No, I did not like getting spanked, thank-you-very-much, Mr. King!
I shoved my toothbrush back into the holder and stared at my flushed expression in the mirror. There was no doubt he’d liked it, however—that he was into that sort of thing. But was I?
I closed my eyes, and all I could see was an imagined image of me bent over his bed before his hand came down with a smack. The way I must have looked! It was beyond embarrassing. The memory of how it went down seemed burned into my memory.
I’d heard the snap of the shutter and then he’d approached me, his hands on my bottom and then my thighs…
I shivered, went back to my room and wrapped myself up in my covers again, unable to stop the memory from playing out again in my mind.
He spanked me and the shutter went again, and then he slipped his fingers between my legs…
I threw the covers over my head. He’d tested whether or not I’d liked it… And liked it or not, my body had given him the answer he’d wanted. It didn’t matter what I told him now; he’d asked me the question because he believed I did. Maybe he wanted me to realize it too. Maybe he planned to make me so confused and unsure that I would go to him and accept his deal, dying to find out the answer.
I groaned and rolled over, curling myself into a little ball. Like it or not, his plan was working.
***
The next day, Sam and Luke arrived and helped me load up Sam’s SUV with all my stuff. They even helped me take apart my bed, Luke carrying the heaviest pieces, like the headboard and baseboard, down the flights of stairs. I must have thanked him a million times for helping me out with it, feeling bad the entire time that I hadn’t had a boyfriend to help carry things as well. Sam just put an arm around me and told me not to worry about it.
It was hard not to be jealous watching Sam and Luke interact. They seemed to just get each other the way couples do in movies, the way I’d never thought could happen in real life. My ex-boyfriends consisted of jerks and losers, starting with guys that barely graduated High School and ending with those that had cheated on me or used me in some way, usually sex or money or both. So Dallon King had been right on the money when he’d insinuated that I’d never had a boyfriend that had cared about me. It had always been me doing the caring, and I’d had my heart broken more than I cared to admit.
Dallon King would not be an addition to that list.
I watched as Luke closed the hatch on the back of the SUV and leaned down to plant a kiss on Sam’s perfect, straight nose. She smiled up at him before wrapping her arms around his waist and giving him a quick squeeze. Then we all climbed into the SUV and made our way to Brooklyn.
“How’s your place?” I asked as we drove.
Sam turned around in the passenger seat to beam at me. “It’s amazing, Amy! I’m so excited. We’re really having a great time and are going furniture shopping tomorrow.”
“That’s great,” I smiled, pushing down the twinge of jealousy that had risen into my stomach. Sam was my best friend and I was happy for her.
“So what did you get up to last night?” Sam asked.
I looked out the window and tried to sound casual. “I was supposed to meet up with Jer to meet his new girlfriend, but I went out for drinks instead.”
“Jeremy has a girlfriend that isn’t you? I’m surprised.”
I laughed awkwardly. “We’re just friends. I wanted to meet her. I guess I will another time. Her name’s Isobel.”
“Hmm,” Sam said thoughtfully. “So who did you go for drinks with?”
I sighed inwardly. Sam always wanted to know what I was up to, not just because we were best friends, but also because she was super maternal and generally interested in other people. It was one of the things I liked best about her and the reason she hoped to focus on Family Law.
There was no way I could lie to her, but I knew she would get super excited and interested once I told her who I had gone for drinks with. It would be a subject that would be difficult to skirt over in the future.
“His name is Dallon King. I met him the other day. He came into the café and asked if I wanted to go for drinks after work.”
Luke whistled loudly. “Dallon King. I’ve heard of him.”
I rolled my eyes. Great. Another one.
Sam glanced at Luke, and I could see her wheels turning. “How? Who is he?”
“He’s in securities, a high position of some sort, but he also collected donations to start a charity to protect animals. I think it’s a shelter or something,” he said, shrugging it off. “Anyway, he’s maybe thirty and super wealthy.”
“Nice!” Sam turned back to me and smiled appreciatively. “A shelter for animals… He must be a really nice guy.”
I made a noise that could have passed for an affirmation. If pressed.
“Is he good-looking?” Sam didn’t glance at Luke before asking, but I saw him glance at her.
“Yeah, he is. I think he knows it, too.”
“Arrogant?”
“Definitely arrogant. But it’s more that he is where he
is, and I’m where I am, and—”
Sam cut me off before I could continue. “I know where you’re going with that, and it’s dumb. You’re hot, smart, and a good person, Amy. If this guy has a charity for sheltering pets, he’s probably just as kind and appreciates that about you. In addition to you being hot, of course,” she winked.
“Yeah, maybe. Thanks,” I squirmed a little, not feeling comfortable receiving a compliment under the circumstances, and especially with Luke being in the car. If he weren’t, I might have told Sam I suspected there was more to Dallon King than met the eye; that he was into some sex stuff I might not be. What would the lawyer term for it be—sexual deviance?
Sam sighed loudly. “I can tell you don’t believe me. But just because Michael was an ass doesn’t mean he will be too.”
“I think she gets it,” Luke said gently and patted Sam on her knee.
“I just wish she saw how amazing she is too.”
Luke laughed and looked at me in the rear-view mirror. “Do you know how amazing you are, Amy?”
I laughed in response. “Yep. Totally amazing.”
Sam punched Luke playfully on his arm and faced forward in her seat again. “All right, let’s change the subject from the smoldering, wealthy animal lover. But I want details later.”
***
Once Luke and Sam helped me set up the bed and roll the mattress over its frame, I told them they could take off.
“I really appreciate your help and I don’t want to take any more of your time. I’m just going to make the bed, unpack a bit and put my artwork up.”
“Why don’t you come out with us for dinner?” Luke asked, eying my “kitchen” and its pathetic hotplate. I was personally delighted that the landlord Bran had thrown in a small bar fridge after I’d signed the lease.
“I’m not really hungry and want to start decorating right away.”
“Let her get to it,” Sam said, most likely empathizing with my desire to make the place livable as soon as possible.