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Boss

Page 8

by Sierra Cartwright


  “No. I imagine you don’t.”

  “I understand you’re interested in BDSM?”

  Scorched air rushed out of her lungs. She couldn’t think or breathe. “What?” she managed, but even she realized it sounded like an admission rather than an incredulous question.

  “The manager of Deviation called my brother this afternoon. Seems your friend Andi sent an email inquiring about bringing a guest to this Saturday’s event.”

  Oh my God. She allowed her shoulders to collapse against the buttery leather seat.

  “Of course, all requests are vetted before a pass is approved. My brother Connor recognized your name. And I’m curious why you want to go.” He grabbed the safety belt then reached over to buckle her in. “Dominance or submission? Maybe bondage, Ms. Lane? Or are you perhaps a bit of a masochist?”

  His face was inches from hers and his fresh, spicy, scent was potent, further scrambling her thoughts. Something deep inside her compelled her not to look away, even though she wanted nothing more than to vanish.

  “Which is it?”

  “I…”

  “Submission?”

  Unsure how to answer, she nodded slowly.

  “I will teach you whatever you want to learn.”

  Oh God. Yes. No. Yes. She was terrified, thrilled.

  “Hang on, Ms. Lane.” There was no smile on his face, nothing but cold, calculated intent. “Your life is about to get interesting.”

  Chapter Four

  “Are you going to invite me in?” Nathan asked after he’d parked near her condominium building on Caroline Street.

  Since he’d first set eyes on her, he’d been captivated.

  When Connor had called a couple of hours ago, Nathan had been speechless. So much so that his brother had checked to be sure they were still connected.

  From the little he’d known about Kelsey, Nathan would never have suspected she had an interest in BDSM and he’d asked a dozen questions, enough to ascertain that it had been a female friend who had called and not a Dom or sub calling on her behalf. Connor had said he didn’t have any further information, and Nathan had been determined to discover the rest.

  Only one thing was sure in his mind. If she was interested in learning about D/s, she would do it under his guidance.

  He’d ended the call and searched her out, only to see that she’d left for the day. His fucking watch had shown that his heart rate was elevated. Nathan had told himself that wasn’t possible. But as he’d stared and focused on regulating his breathing, the number had decreased.

  Because he’d skipped his usual morning workout, he’d decided to spend some time in the fitness center while he thought through the best way to approach her.

  And the moment she’d walked into the cardio area, he’d known it. All his protective senses had gone on alert, and he’d seen her in a completely new light.

  He’d noticed her surreptitious glances and the way she’d turned her head the moment he’d acknowledged them. When he’d walked past her after lifting weights, he’d made his decision. Talking to her outside work was more appropriate. And he’d been honest earlier. Once he’d made a decision, he acted on it.

  He’d been waiting a couple of minutes when she’d exited the ladies’ dressing room. And he’d registered her reaction to seeing him.

  The same attraction he felt had been reflected in her wide, hazel eyes, in the way she’d parted her lips and the way she’d paused. He’d known that getting her to go out with him might take a little persuasion, but he was determined.

  Something hot had arced through him, searing him with possessiveness.

  He turned off the engine and angled his body to see her better beneath the overhead streetlight. “Kelsey?”

  “Uhm…” She looked at him and brought her chin up. “This is awkward.”

  “Is it?”

  “You don’t think so?”

  “Tell me why you do.”

  “Isn’t it obvious? You’re my boss. My job depends on pleasing you.”

  “Would you like me to fire you?”

  “What?” She threaded her purse strap through her fingers. “Will you be serious?”

  “I am. If you working for me stops us having an honest discussion about this—”

  “About what?”

  “The attraction we both feel.”

  “I…” She let out her breath.

  “Deny it,” he told her. “Go ahead. But I’ll know if you’re lying.”

  “Mr. Donovan—”

  “Nathan,” he reminded her.

  She squeezed her eyes closed for a long time.

  Patiently, he waited.

  She eventually looked at him again. “I’m not sure I’ve ever felt more uncomfortable.”

  “We could discuss it inside. That would enable us to have a little more distance between us. Make no mistake, though, we will talk, either tonight or in the future. I have questions, so do you. We both want and deserve honest answers.”

  For a few more seconds, she fiddled with her purse strap. “I’m nervous.”

  “Thank you for saying so. And you don’t need to be. It would be more disconcerting for you to show up for work tomorrow knowing Connor had told me you were going to Deviation. You’d be wondering what he’d said, guessing at my reactions, thinking that maybe you should resign. Let’s put it all on the table, have a look at it, discuss it, see where we are.”

  “You’re making this sound very…” She let go of the thin strap of leather that she’d been playing with. “Reasonable.”

  “Good. It should be.” For now.

  “You can leave your car out here,” she said, pointing across the street.

  Which meant she was inviting him up. He was unaccountably happy about that.

  “Or there’s a parking garage.”

  “Perfect.”

  He followed her instructions and navigated to the guest spaces. After he’d shut off the engine, he came around to open her door then grabbed her duffel bag.

  She led him up a flight of stairs then exited in her hallway.

  Her building was in a vibrant area, near museums, the medical center, restaurants. By comparison, his house seemed a bit isolated. That was something he really hadn’t paid attention to until now.

  “Watch out.” She put an arm across his chest to prevent him from taking a step forward.

  A small plastic ball rolled past them. It appeared to have some sort of furry, honey-colored creature inside. “What the hell?”

  “Sinbad.”

  “Sinbad?”

  “Mr. Martinez’s granddaughter left her hamster at his house about a year ago. She supposedly never came to get him, but I think the truth is that he likes the company.”

  Nathan shook his head. “That’s a hamster?”

  “Sinbad,” she repeated.

  He looked at her to see her smiling. Damn. He wasn’t just attracted to her, he liked her. The way she’d defended Seward was admirable. Even if he didn’t agree with her, he appreciated her fierceness and loyalty. The way she’d interacted with Marvin, knowing his work schedule, told him she cared about people. And now…this. Patience, even good humor, when a fuzzball prevented her from getting to her condo at the end of the day. “Okay. I’ll ask the obvious. Why is there a hamster rolling down the hallway in a ball?”

  “He’s getting his exercise.”

  “Of course. I should have known.”

  The ball hit the far wall, and somehow the thing—Sinbad—figured out to move to the other side to get the ball moving again. Impressive. And he had no idea whether that was unusual or not.

  Sinbad rolled past them again, and he heard a door open down the hallway.

  “Hi, Mr. Martinez,” she said.

  The man was wearing a red fuzzy robe that appeared to be covered in fur that matched the color of the hamster. His feet and legs were bare, and his combover had seen better days.

  “Hey, Kelsey.” Mr. Martinez bent to pick up the ball as the hamster approa
ched. “I’ve got some peanuts for you.” Without another word, the man entered his apartment, focused only on the animal.

  “That could be one of the most bizarre things I’ve ever seen.”

  “Doesn’t everyone take their hamster for a walk?”

  “I honestly have no idea.”

  “What kind of pets did you have growing up?” she asked, leading the way to her condo.

  “We didn’t have any. There were dogs at the ranch. Cade still has a monstrosity of something. Sheepdog, I think. I don’t know how it sees.”

  “No pets? Ever? Not even a goldfish?”

  “Nothing.”

  She slipped her key into the lock and jiggled the mechanism a couple of times before it released.

  “Do you have building maintenance?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “That could be dangerous. Or you could get locked out.”

  “It’s on my to-do-when-I-have-time list. I’d need to arrange for time off from work to meet a repair person, and that never seems convenient.”

  “There are Saturdays,” he replied.

  “And I go into the office on some of those,” she said. “Or I take care of other errands.”

  “You could ask your boss for time off.”

  She met his gaze. “How is he with that? He seems to be a bit of a tyrant.”

  “You could always make up the time.” Since he knew she was still smarting from their earlier clashes, he didn’t take a bite of the bait she’d tossed him. “Like on Christmas, for example.”

  “Grinch.” But maybe because of his response, her word had no hostility.

  He’d remember that in future. Backing down from an insult didn’t come naturally for him, but he’d get further with this woman if he engaged only when the stakes were high.

  And truthfully, he probably had earned a reputation as a tyrant, whether deserved or not.

  He followed her inside, then she closed the door behind them.

  “No security locks?”

  “I’ve never had any issues,” she replied as she dropped her purse on a long, granite-topped table. She met his gaze in the starburst-shaped mirror that hung on the wall above it. “Besides, we have a guard hamster on this floor.”

  “That’s not good enough for me.”

  “I’ll look into it.”

  Probably not before he did.

  “You can put my gym bag anywhere. I’ll take care of it later.”

  He dropped it on the floor and had a look around. Over the years, Houston had seen many older buildings rehabilitated and converted into apartments and condos. But this appeared to be a newer building, and her unit had an open floor plan.

  A small, well-designed kitchen stood off to the right. He didn’t immediately see a dining room table, but the kitchen bar had a placemat as well as a laptop computer.

  Off to the left was a fireplace and mantel. An oversize television sat atop a modern stand in the corner. A cream-colored leather sectional was strewn with vibrant-colored pillows and a turquoise throw. A metal-and-glass coffee table was littered with piles of magazines, and the local business journal was folded in half and open to page three. The area was cozy, inviting.

  But her condominium’s most compelling feature was the set of French doors leading to a balcony. Even though it was dark, he could see distant lights from downtown skyscrapers. Every day when she woke up, her first view was of the city.

  Nathan was the second owner of his house. Though he was still inside the 610 loop, his neighborhood counted as his version of suburbia. He’d opted for a commute since he could get more value for his dollar, and he’d gambled that it would be a good long-term investment.

  In contrast to her view of concrete and activity, he had landscaping designed by the local gardening club, complete with a pond. The back yard was lush with oleander bushes, bougainvillea and other tropical plants, including bamboo.

  Unfortunately, working in the yard didn’t relax him as he’d hoped. Instead, it seemed to demand constant attention. The bamboo was now as tall as the house and threatened to engulf it. The bougainvillea had spikes so nasty they gave him pause. Even the koi that had been so alluring during the sale were nothing more than an invitation to passing birds.

  The sight of his city in the near distance filled him with its seductive energy. Now that he saw the view from the outside looking in, he understood why his brother Connor had opted to live downtown. “Nice view,” he said.

  “I waited for this particular floor plan and sightline of downtown to become available,” she said. “It meant I spent a year longer in an apartment than I wanted, but I think it was worth it.”

  A number of framed photographs hung on the wall next to the doors. They all had a similar feel, as if they were taken by the same person. The play of light and form drew his attention? “Mind if I look?”

  She shrugged. “Go ahead.”

  He crossed the hardwood floors to study them closer.

  One picture he recognized as a sunrise over Pleasure Pier on Galveston Island. Another was of the lighthouse on the Bolivar Peninsula. A third was of a flock of soaring pelicans. The largest and most stunning was of a large, bright full moon rising over the Gulf of Mexico.

  Nathan looked back at her.

  She was standing there, silently studying him.

  “Who’s the photographer?” he asked.

  “Me. They’re mine.”

  “Yours?” He glanced back at them. “You’ve got some talent.”

  “Thanks. I think you’re being generous. I only display them because I like the sights.”

  “Galveston and Bolivar in particular?”

  “Not necessarily.” She shook her head. “To me it’s more about the ocean. Dad had a decent job, but with Mom’s health issues and the fact she stayed home with us…” She trailed off then visibly refocused. “We didn’t have a lot of extra money, so my dad would take us to the beach for vacations. I loved watching the boats in the ship channel. I always begged him to let us ride the Bolivar ferry, and he invariably agreed since you can walk on for free. There’s a restaurant in Crystal Beach where the barges pass by—really close—and I always imagined that if I reached out I could touch them.”

  And maybe her love of that had also influenced her career path?

  “Galveston isn’t far away. Even with my schedule, I can get there several times a year for short trips,” she went on. “I’ve been wanting to get to Corpus Christi, though, and maybe South Padre Island.”

  “You can do both when we go to the ranch.”

  “We haven’t talked about that yet.” She unzipped her jacket and tossed it on the back of the couch. “Can I get you something to drink? Wine? Whiskey?”

  “Whiskey,” he said. “Thanks. On the rocks, if you have ice.”

  “Make yourself comfortable.”

  He followed her toward the kitchen but paused near the mantel to look at her snapshots. They appeared to be mostly family photos. One was of Kelsey and a smiling woman, arms over each other’s shoulders. Both were wearing huge smiles. Kelsey had much shorter hair, only to her shoulders, and her friend had icy lilac-colored tresses. The metal frame had the word bestie, in block letters.

  She returned with a small glass for him and white wine for herself.

  “Do you want to show me around?” he asked.

  The ice cubes clinked in the glass as she handed it to him. “Not really,” she answered.

  He regarded her.

  “It’ll ruin your image of me as neat and organized.”

  And encroach on her personal space. “All the better.”

  “Are you serious?” She squirmed a little, and he liked that.

  “I’d like to see your place, yes.” He took a sip of the liquor. It wasn’t as fine as the stuff Connor stashed at the Running Wind, but it was more than serviceable. “I’ve been clear that I want to know all about you. Especially the things you don’t want me to know.”

  “Why?”

  “T
he Dom in me is curious.”

  Color flooded her cheekbones, staining them red. She didn’t answer. Instead, she stared into the wine, obviously composing herself.

  After expelling a breath, she met his gaze. “Fair warning, you might change your mind after looking around.”

  “I’ll take my chances.” Little did she know this was only the first of her hesitations that he intended to destroy. “Where should I put my coat?”

  “The back of the couch is fine.”

  Rather than putting down his glass, he extended it to her, and she held it without protest.

  He shrugged out of the leather bomber jacket and tossed it on top of hers before turning back to her.

  “I could have taken it for you,” she said. “That was rude of me.”

  “Yes. It was.” He looked at her, hard, uncompromising. To him, this wasn’t a game, and he was going to be damn sure she knew it. “We both know it’s happened more than once. Lack of civility is not something I find appealing, whether the behavior is intentional or not.”

  “I…er…”

  “It’s never acceptable, and it’s something I’m likely to punish a sub for.”

  “I’m not a submissive,” she corrected quickly, breathlessly.

  “Are you sure?” He made sure his voice was soft, rather than commanding. And that took a fuckton of effort.

  He watched as the twin telltale streaks of red crept back onto her cheekbones. Her reaction was perfect. Pleasing. “Are you? Or are you secretly hoping you’ll push me far enough that I’ll have no choice but to take you in hand? Do you want me to make it easy for you? Shall I remove the choice so you can pretend it wasn’t consensual?” He added the last sentence quietly, so quietly that she had to lean forward to hear him.

 

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