by Ts McKinney
With an all-consuming dread, I sat down in my chair, pulled the envelope out, and straightened the edges from where I’d crumpled it earlier. Had he gone back to the penthouse while I’d been at the police station, answering questions? Had he sent it through somebody and Landon put it with my things? Hell, maybe the fucking tooth fairy had given it to the Easter Bunny, and he’d handed it off to Santa Claus.
I braced myself, tried to wrap a protective cocoon around my heart, and carefully opened the envelope. His messy writing was there, mocking me, but wrapping around my heart at the same time. With a heavy heart, I started reading.
Dear Sweet (cause that was the sweetest fucking night of my entire life),
I hope you’re reading this because the assignment is complete instead of me being dead. Haha. Just kidding. I know that you’ll be my knight in shining armor and rescue me before too much damage is done to this gorgeous body of mine. First of all, I didn’t wake you before leaving because I know we’ve crossed too many lines, made things too unprofessional. To be honest, I wasn’t sure you’d even let me go. That wouldn’t have been cool and would have pissed me off…which would have led to you having to discipline me. Okay, I’m rambling because I’m nervous. I don’t have much time, but there are things I needed to say, just in case something goes wrong.
You were right, Seth…I was experimenting. I was curious. You see, I’ve never been in love before and I wanted to know what it felt like, even though I knew it probably wouldn’t end the way my fantasies played out in my head. I broke every rule known to man and the agency. I made things personal when they should have stayed professional. Trust me, I didn’t mean for it to happen, but once I started falling, I couldn’t stop. No, I didn’t want to stop. It felt too good—too perfect.
I fell in love with you, Seth. Couldn’t help it. You’re pretty damned lovable, especially when you try hard not to be.
Anyway, I know there’s a really high chance this was all a game for you. I understand that—it should have never been anything more. You’re a damn good Dom, but I know that doesn’t mean you are supposed to fall in love with your sub…especially your borrowed sub. I’ll deal with it if this was nothing more than a job for you.
After the mission ends, and we’ve saved the day, I’m gonna disappear—go back home and hang out. If you’re interested in something more, you know where to find me. If you don’t come, I’ll completely understand. Either way, thank you for giving me something I’ve never had before and never thought I’d have the chance to enjoy. Being in love makes me feel giddy. It’s the most wonderful feeling in the world. I hope you find it one day, even if it isn’t with me.
Forever Yours,
Sweet Tart
I stared at the crisp white paper in front of me. It had the logo of the apartment building emblazoned across the top. I remembered Baker swiping it from the front lobby, laughing like he’d really pulled off the heist of the century.
When had he…
That meant he’d written it…
Oh, fuck. He’d written me this note the night he’d left our penthouse, intending to walk straight into the hands of danger.
He loved me? Two weeks had passed. Two long weeks of me suffering a pain that touched the very core of my soul. Two weeks where he’d thought I wasn’t coming for him. Two fucking weeks.
I snatched up the letter and trotted toward Landon’s office. My heart felt like it might explode. Was he still waiting? Had he given up on me?
I didn’t knock. I stormed straight into his office like I owned the place.
He looked up at me long and hard, and said, “You aren’t quitting on me, Seth. The hurt you’re feeling will pass. I promise. I can’t believe you’ve lived this long without having your heart broken. Consider yourself lucky, most of us have been through it double-digit times by the time we reach our late twenties.”
“I need to take some time off, Landon,” I said, my voice sounding strange because of the excitement I wasn’t even trying to contain.
He closed his laptop and asked, “Why?”
“There’s been a misunderstanding. I need to see Baker. No, it can’t wait, so don’t even suggest it. I’m going home, grabbing a bag, and heading straight to the airport. You’re gonna have to either deal with it or fire me.”
He laughed. “You’re going to see Agent Daley?”
“Damned straight, I am,” I answered. I felt the stupidest grin on my face but could care less if I looked like a lovesick moron. I was.
He picked up his briefcase, shoved his laptop inside, and said, “Well, in that case, I’ve been authorized to use the company jet.” He stood up and started toward me. “I’ll call the airport on the way and it should be ready to leave by the time we go by both our houses and grab what we need.” He passed by me and headed straight for the elevator. “You coming?” he yelled over his shoulder.
“Hell, yeah, I am,” I answered. “The company jet? How did my personal life rate the company jet?” I didn’t really care, I was just thankful I’d get to Baker even sooner.
As the elevator doors slid together, Landon said, “Oh, honey. I don’t think it was your personal life that scored the jet.”
Chapter 12
Baker
The doorbell blasted through the house, interrupting my nap and pissing me off at the same damn time. How many goddamned times could she possibly forget the code to my locks? She’d practically moved in with me when I’d returned from my Miami assignment but, even after two full weeks and one day, three hundred and thirty-seven hours, she still forgot the code to my locks over half the time. I considered ignoring the annoying chimes and not hitting the automatic unlock from my remote but knew she would simply keep hitting the doorbell—she was antagonistic like that.
I reached for the remote, hit unlock, turned my back to the bedroom door, and buried my head into a pillow. Maybe she would take pity on me and drop off what she’d picked up at the store and then leave me in peace. Pity parties required peace so, therefore, I needed peace because I was hosting the most impressive pity party in the history of mankind.
I hadn’t lost my composure until the third day. On days one and two, I kept telling myself he would come for me. There was absolutely no way I could have fallen madly in love with someone who wouldn’t…or couldn’t love me back. It just wasn’t possible. The doubts hit me on day three. I was sick on day four. Angry on day five. Furious on day six. Deep, dark depression had settled in on day seven and that motherfucking bitch hadn’t left. To be honest, she didn’t look like she’d be leaving anytime in my near future.
I would have starved if Sammie hadn’t force-fed me…literally. With two broken wrists, I was about as useless as a human could be. The jury was still out on whether I should be thankful that Sammie stepped up or blame her for not letting me die just to end my torment.
When I heard her footsteps coming down the hall, I decided to blame her for all my misery. In a way, it was her fault. She’d been the one to suggest me for the assignment. She’d been the one that told me I’d be a perfect sub for him—yes, I refused to say his name, even inside my head. She’d been the one to ship me off to Colorado with a pat on the head and note in my pocket.
Bitch.
I wanted to hate her but couldn’t. It wasn’t her fault that I hadn’t been enough for…him.
The footsteps stopped at my doorway, but I could feel the eyeballs drilling into my back. I thought about pretending to be asleep, but then remembered that I’d had to hit the remote to unlock the doors. Since that wouldn’t work, I’d try being mean. Maybe that would make her finally walk out on me, once and for all. “So help me, Sammie, if you come at me with more food, I’m going to bitch-slap you. I’m not even kidding either. I can feed myself. I can do everything for myself. Please leave. I just need some peace and quiet. I’ll be back in the office next year. I promise.” I’d only been with the agency long enough to have earned two weeks’ vacation, but I didn’t care. They’d be lucky if I ever wal
ked through the office doors again. She could fire me if she wanted to. It wasn’t like I needed the money, my grandparents had left me a hefty trust fund.
That was me—trust fund baby. Heavy on the cash, light on the love.
The story of my life.
“Hey, Babe,” a husky voice said. No, not a husky voice. The husky voice. The husky voice that I’d thought belonged to me.
I whipped around and, sure enough, there stood Seth…right in my bedroom doorway, looking all hot and fucking perfect. Well, other than the fact that he looked tired, with black rings under his beautiful gray eyes. When I looked in the mirror, I saw the same thing. “Wh…what are you doing here?” I stammered.
Seth was in my house!
He took a deep breath, and answered, “I came for you, Baker.”
I didn’t take a deep breath—just roared, “Did you fucking walk from Colorado?” I would have thrown a pillow at him if my wrists weren’t broken and in casts. “Are you serious? It’s been two weeks, Seth. Two long fucking weeks! What? You had to see if you got any better offers before you settled? What’s the story? Please tell me. I’m all ears.”
Don’t jump up and tackle him. Don’t jump up and tackle him. Try to find some dignity hidden deep down inside. Just try!
There was no dignity to be found. When my mouth opened again, it was to say, “Never the fuck mind—get in this bed with me!” I flipped the covers back and silently sent a ‘thank you’ prayer to Sammie for forcing me to finally take a shower this morning.
A sexy grin split his face and he was on top of me in a mere second. His muscled weight pressed me into the soft mattress and my body sang hallelujah. My hands…well, fingers since most of each hand was trapped in casts, reached up to clasp the sides of his face and I whispered, “Kiss me. Please kiss me.”
He kissed me softly, teasing my lips with butterfly kisses for a few minutes, and then shoving his tongue inside my mouth and tasting every inch of me. I gave as good as I got. His scent wrapped around me, offering a cocoon of happiness that I never wanted to leave. My legs opened wide to give him room to make himself at home. I was so happy, a stupid giggle bubbled up from my throat.
Not cool. Not cool, at all.
“What took you so damn long?” I demanded when we finally came up for air.
“I thought you left me, Baker. You’d already boarded the jet before I left the police station. Landon told me you wanted to go home.” He closed his eyes and when he opened them again, they were damp with unshed tears. “I didn’t find the letter until last night, babe. I thought you were finished with me and I kept telling myself to step aside and let you be happy. I…I had no idea you were waiting on me to come for you. It’s been hell without you in my world, Baker. Please don’t ever do that to me again.”
Frowning, I asked, “How did you not get my letter? I left it right on the countertop for you—next to the refrigerator.”
“I couldn’t go back to the penthouse after Landon told me you’d left. I…just couldn’t. I didn’t want to see all the reminders of…of what I’d never have. Last night when Ari started digging through the boxes that they’d brought back from Miami, he found the letter and gave it to me.”
“Who the fuck is Ari?” I demanded, angrily. I could just imagine some hot little twinky sub digging through Seth’s personal belongings in between scenes.
He laughed. “Ari is Arizona—Landon’s son. His desk is next to mine at the office. That’s where the boxes were.” He dropped his head, shook it, and said, “Fuck, Baker, I almost tossed those boxes without ever looking inside.” Despair made his voice sound raw. “What if I’d never seen the letter? What if we’d both just gone our separate ways, each believing the other didn’t want us?”
“That wouldn’t have happened, Tart,” I mocked. “The minute my wrists were healed, I planned on flying to Colorado to kick your ass. I think the truth might have come out then.”
He nuzzled my lips and whispered, “I’ve missed your sweetness and especially the tartness. I’m never letting you go, Baker. I hope you know that. I’ll move, or you’ll move. One way or another, we’re together. Got it?”
“Just try to shake me, big guy,” I answered.
“No more misunderstandings, lies, half—-truths, or assumptions,” he added. “We tell each other everything and never assume anything.”
“Oh, shit, guys!” Landon’s voice interrupted our private love fest. “What in the fuckity fuck is the director doing here? She just pulled into the driveway. I swear on all that’s holy that I had permission to use the company jet.”
Uh oh. There might have been one more thing I hadn’t told Seth. When I heard Sammie stomping up the stairs, I knew it was too late to try and cover my ass now. The shit was about to hit the fan.
“The director? How do you know the director?” Seth asked.
Before I could answer, Sammie rounded the corner, hands on her hips, and looking ready to rip some heads off. I wasn’t even certain it was the heads that sat on top of shoulders, either.
“Landon,” she nodded in his direction but never took her eyes away from Seth. “Agent Wilkinson,” she moved in closer, her eyes glaring, “it’s finally nice to meet you in person instead of talking on the phone.”
Seth rolled off the bed and stared at her, a confused expression on his face.
“Uh, Seth, this is Sammie,” I said. “She, uh, yeah, she used to be called Mistress Samantha.” I grinned sheepishly. “You know, before I met and fell in love with you.” When I’d returned home from Miami, I’d been up front with Samantha right away, and told her our professional relationship, in the clubs, not at work, was officially over. I’d gushed about having fallen madly in love with Seth and revealed my hopes and prayers that he felt the same and would come for me. She’d promised he would, there was no way he did not love me back, she’d vowed. As the days passed with no word from him, she’d gotten madder and madder at Seth, threatening to fire him. I’m sure she was joking, but she also mentioned having him ‘knocked off’. Just in case she hadn’t been kidding, I’d quickly explained I’d have her ‘knocked off’ if she did. My threat hadn’t seemed to bother her much, so I added Esmerelda, her beloved dog into the mix. She totally got the picture then and never mentioned making Seth vanish again. After that conversation, it was merely chopping his balls off and feeding them to him.
It was during those conversations that I’d taken to calling her Sammie. Mistress Samantha didn’t work anymore and after all we’d shared together, Miss. Strickland didn’t fit either. We’d both settled on Sammie. I would always love her but had never considered being in love with her…not like I was with Seth. I’d known there was something different from the very first scene Seth and I shared together but had tried to chalk it up to him being my first male Dominant. It hadn’t been that. It hadn’t been that at all. My heart had recognized him immediately as my soul mate. The rest of me had caught up and agreed with the revelation fairly quickly. It was hard to imagine that we’d only been thrown together for a few days, but he’d managed to change my entire world.
Seth’s eyes were suddenly as round as silver dollars. “Your Mistress is the director of the agency? You never thought to mention that to me, Baker?”
“Thought about it,” I squeaked. “Then thought maybe I shouldn’t. Anyway, she’s my ex-Mistress…and she owns the company.”
“Oh, shit,” Landon, who had tried to be invisible up until this point, muttered. He was standing in a corner of my bedroom, trying to blend in with the navy walls. Hmmm, it wasn’t working for him. “Couldn’t you have shared some of that information with me, Director Strickland? It might have made things easier.”
“No, I couldn’t, Landon. I didn’t need Baker getting any special treatment, good or bad, because of who he associated with. I’m well aware of the tight relationship you have with Agent Wilkinson and I simply couldn’t trust you not to tell him.” She turned and stared him down. “If it had been pertinent to the assignment, I woul
d have shared it.”
After she finished silencing Landon, Sammie moved around the room until she stood nose to nose with Seth. Yeah, she was incredibly tall for a woman, and just had this thing about her. When she walked into a room, you knew she was somebody not to be trifled with. Seth straightened his back and met her gaze. “I’m sorry, Mistress. He belongs to me now.”
Those words did really nice things to my belly, like riding a roller coaster. Funny, my few days with Seth had been a non-stop thrill ride…one I didn’t intend on ever getting off of.
“Why in this world do you think I’d give him to you?” she questioned arrogantly. “When I allowed you, another Dom, to touch him, I distinctly recall telling you not to hurt him.” She stepped closer. “I also distinctly recall you vowing you wouldn’t. I accepted your word because you’re a respected Dom in the community. Now? Well, let’s just say, it all hinges on your next words, Sir,” she threatened…or maybe mocked, I wasn’t sure which.
“Because I’m in love with him.” Seth looked down at me and added, “And he’s in love with me.”
She smiled. “Well played…well played. He’s all yours.” Her grin became sinister. “He’s behaved like such a child over these past two weeks. He’ll need disciplined for that. Did you just hear him say he would bitch-slap me?”
“Yes, ma’am, I did,” Seth answered. “I assure you, I’ll take care of it.”
“Promises, promises,” I answered.
Chapter 13
Baker
I nervously paced the length of the office area, back and forth, back and forth, while I waited for Seth’s meeting with Landon to finish. It was late in the evening and the only people left on the floor of our building were me, Seth, Landon, and Ari. I shouldn’t feel so irritated since I was ninety-nine percent certain the meeting was about me and my continuous demands to be released from a medical hold, so I could return to work, but I was still antsy. Hell, if anybody should be royally pissed about the after-hours-stand- around-doing-nothing party, it should be Ari. He’d been forced to wait around on his dad to finish up discussing my future…with Seth, not me. Yeah, I was borderline pissed, so I tried to focus my mind on how we ended up where we were and how incredibly pleased I’d been with the decision. Maybe, just maybe, remembering those facts might help me feel better?