Breathless Trilogy

by Banks, Maya

  Of all the things she thought he might say, that hadn’t been one of them. She stared in astonishment at him as she tried to process the fact that he’d just offered her a job. Good God, she’d been well on her way to making a giant ass of herself. Her cheeks tightened in humiliation.

  “I have a job,” she said. “You know that.”

  He made a dismissive gesture with his hand and a sound of impatience erupted from his throat.

  “It’s not a job worthy of your capabilities and education and you know it.”

  “It’s not like I intend this job to be forever,” she defended. “They’ve been good to me and they’re shorthanded, so I promised I’d stay on until they can hire someone else.”

  He gave her a look of impatience. “How long have they been telling you that, Mia?”

  She flushed and dropped her gaze briefly.

  “You’re cut out for more than being a cashier in a pastry shop. Jace didn’t spend all that money and you didn’t spend all that time in college to pass out donuts.”

  “I never intended it to be long-term!”

  “I’m glad to hear that. So give your notice and come to work for me.”

  He leaned back, staring intently at her as he awaited her response.

  “What exactly is the job you’re offering me?”

  “You’d be my personal assistant.”

  Just the way he said the words sent a shiver down her spine. The emphasis on personal couldn’t possibly be mistaken.

  “You don’t have a personal assistant,” she accused. “You never have. You hate them.”

  “It’s true you’d be my first in a long while. I trust that you’d prove a very capable employee.”

  It was her turn to study him. Her eyes narrowed as she took in his intense, brooding expression.

  “Why?” she asked bluntly. “What is it you want, Gabe? And while you’re at it, explain last night. Because I’m at a complete loss.”

  His smile was slow and deliciously arrogant. “So my kitten has claws.”

  His kitten? She didn’t miss the significance of that little word.

  “Don’t toy with me. Something else is going on here. Why do you want me to come to work for you?”

  His upper lip worked up and down and his nostrils flared as he stared across the desk at her.

  “Because I want you, Mia.”

  Silence fell, cloaking the room, suffocating except for the loud pulse in her ears.

  “I d-don’t understand.”

  He smiled then, a predatory smile that slid over her like the smoothest silk. “Oh, I think you do.”

  Her stomach flipped and butterflies swarmed her chest and tickled her throat. This wasn’t happening. It had to be a dream.

  “What you suggest isn’t possible,” she said. “If I work for you…we can’t…”

  “Can’t we?” he asked mockingly. He leaned farther back into his chair, indolent and confident as he turned to the side to stretch his long legs. “The purpose of your working for me is so you’d be at my side at all times. And I’d have you when I want and how I want.”

  Heat infused her entire body. She fidgeted in her chair, her hands twisting together.

  “This is overwhelming,” she confessed. It was lame. Completely lame as a comeback, but what else was she supposed to say? She was utterly speechless.

  Her heart was about to beat out of her chest. She knew there was more to this than his words. There was a wealth of meaning in those dark eyes. She felt hunted. Stalked.

  “Come here, Mia.”

  The firm but gentle command washed through the haze of confusion. Her eyes widened as her gaze found his, and she realized he was waiting for her to come to him.

  She rose, her legs shaky, and she rubbed her hands down her jeans in an attempt to steady herself. And then she took that first step and walked around the edge of his desk to where he was still seated in his executive chair.

  He reached for her hand and once he had his fingers twined with hers, he tugged her down onto his lap. She landed awkwardly but he sat farther up and shifted so she was nestled against his chest and tucked into his side. With his free hand, he delved his fingers into her hair, twisting the strands around his knuckles while he held on to her hand with his other.

  “The relationship I’m proposing is not a traditional one,” he said. “I’ll not have you walking blindly into it without knowing exactly where you stand and what you can expect from it.”

  “Big of you,” she said dryly.

  He gave her hair a slight tug. “Little minx.” His eyes became half-lidded as he stared into her eyes. He disentangled his hand from hers and lifted his fingers to her lips where he traced the outline of her mouth with the tip of his index finger. “I want you, Mia. And I’ll warn you now. I’m very used to getting my way.”

  “So you want me to work for you and you want…me. Physically, I mean.”

  “Oh yes,” he murmured. “Definitely.”

  “And this relationship you propose. What exactly do you mean by nontraditional?”

  He hesitated for the briefest moment. “I’ll own you,” he said bluntly. “Body, soul. You’ll belong to me.”

  Whoa. That sounded so…heavy. She couldn’t even wrap her brain around it. Her mouth went dry and she tried to lick her lips but stopped when she remembered his reaction when she’d done it moments earlier.

  “I’ll guide you through this,” he said in a more gentle tone. “I’m not going to throw you to the wolves. I’ll be patient as you learn your way through the kind of relationship I expect.”

  “I don’t even know what to say right now,” she blurted out.

  His hand slid over her jaw and to her cheek. They were on eye level, their mouths just a few breaths apart.

  “I think this is where you tell me where I stand with you,” Gabe prompted. “Do you want me as badly as I want you?”

  Oh God, was this really happening? Did she dare to say the words out loud? It was like standing on the ledge of a skyscraper and peering over the edge. Wind in your face, knowing one misstep and you plummet.

  His mouth moved closer, past her mouth, skimming over her jawline, his lips just brushing her skin. He nipped at her earlobe, eliciting a full-body shiver that sent chill bumps racing across her flesh.

  “Tell me what I want to know,” he commanded in a husky voice that whispered over the shell of her ear.

  “Y-yes,” she croaked.

  “Yes what?”

  “Yes, I want you.”

  The admission escaped with a sigh, reluctantly tugged from her lips. She couldn’t even look him in the eye.

  “Mia, look at me.”

  There was something about the calm authority in his voice that registered with her. Made her hyperaware of his presence, of him as a man. And it made her want him all the more.

  She turned her gaze on him, saw the blaze in his eyes. He caught her hair again, tugging slightly as he toyed with the tresses.

  “I have a contract,” he said. “It outlines every nuance of our proposed relationship. I want you to read over it very carefully this weekend and then I want your decision on Monday.”

  She rapidly blinked, so startled that she didn’t immediately find words. When she did, her tongue felt large and unwieldy.

  “A contract? You want us to have a contract?”

  “You needn’t sound so horrified,” he said in a level voice. “It’s for your protection. And mine.”

  She shook her head in confusion. “I don’t even understand.”

  “My tastes are extreme, Mia. Read the contract and, as I said, read it very carefully. And then consider whether you can commit to the kind of relationship I demand.”

  “You’re serious.”

  His brows drew together and his lips tightened. Then he leaned over, putting his arm tighter around her waist to prevent her from toppling out of his lap. He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a thick document that was paper clipped together. Then he dropped it
on her lap.

  “Take the weekend. Read over it. Make sure you understand it. I’d like your answer Monday morning. If there are things you need clarification on, we can discuss them then.”

  “So that’s it then,” she said, still bewildered by it all. “I go home, read your contract and then we meet on Monday to finalize the terms of our relationship?”

  His lips tightened again but he nodded. “In a nutshell, yes, though you make it sound far more sterile than it is.”

  “I’m not sure it gets any more sterile,” she said. “You make it sound like a negotiation, like it’s one of your hotel or resort deals.”

  “There is no negotiation,” he said softly. “Remember that, Mia. You read the contract. You either sign or don’t sign. But if you do, you’ll adhere to those terms.”

  She smoothed her hand over the typed document and then lifted it from her lap. She sucked in a deep breath and then slid from Gabe’s lap. She had to put her free hand on the top of his desk to steady herself as she made her way back around to the front. If only her legs would cooperate.

  “How did you get here?” Gabe asked.

  “I took a cab,” she said faintly.

  He picked up his phone. “I’ll have my driver bring you back to your apartment and I’ll arrange your ride here Monday morning.”

  “You’re so sure of yourself,” she murmured. “Of me.”

  He slid the receiver away from his mouth as he fixed his gaze on her. “The only thing I’m sure of is that I’ve waited entirely too damn long to have you.”

  chapter four

  Instead of having the driver take her back to her apartment where she knew Caroline would be waiting to pounce on her, Mia had him drop her off at West 81st Street, just two blocks from where she worked on West 83rd Street. There was a small park that wasn’t often overcrowded at this hour of the morning. Mostly strollers and nannies, young preschool children playing.

  The contract was stuffed into her bag and she clutched it tighter against her side as she made her way to an empty bench the farthest distance from the playground where she could be afforded some measure of privacy.

  She was supposed to be at work at noon, but somehow she knew she was going to need time to process what she was about to read. Gabe’s autocratic demand that she quit and come to work for him echoed in her mind.

  No, she’d never planned to make her job at the pastry shop permanent, but she liked the couple who owned it. They’d been good to her. It was a place she’d often frequented, and she’d struck up a rapport with the older couple. And no, it wasn’t a job worthy of all the money Jace had put into her education. It had been an impulse to ask if the shop owners needed extra help. It bought her time to figure out her next step, and it made her feel good that she wasn’t completely dependent on Jace for her support. He’d done enough for her over the years. She didn’t want him worrying over her any longer.

  As she settled onto the bench, she glanced around her to make sure no one was close enough to see what she was reading, and then she pulled the contract from her bag and nervously peeled the cover page up so she could begin to read the contents.

  Her eyes widened as she read further. She turned the pages automatically as she battled between disbelief and an odd curiosity.

  He hadn’t lied when he said that he would own her. That she would effectively belong to him. If she signed this contract and entered into a relationship with him, she was ceding all power to him.

  There were exacting requirements that she make herself available to him at all times. She was to travel with him, be at his disposal. Her work hours were what he made them, and her time belonged exclusively to him within those work hours.

  Good God, there were even precise requirements when it came to sex.

  Her cheeks blazed with heat and she hastily glanced up, afraid that someone would see her and know exactly what she was reading. And she wanted to make damn sure no one was close enough to see what was typed on those pages.

  If she signed, she agreed to cede power to him not only in the bedroom, but in all aspects of their relationship as well. Decisions were to be made by him. She was his to command.

  Perhaps most disturbing was that as detailed as the contract was, the actual description of what she may be required to do was vague because, in essence, everything was covered by the fact that she was to give him whatever he wanted, whenever and however he wanted it.

  In return, he guaranteed that all her needs would be met, physically and financially. There was nothing at all about emotional needs. That wasn’t Gabe’s style. She knew enough about him to know he’d hopped off the trust train when it came to women. They’d have sex. And they’d have a quasi relationship as defined by the contract, but intimacy wouldn’t come into play. Nor would emotions.

  He reserved the right to cancel the contract at any time and could if she broke any of the terms that she agreed to. It was very cold, like an employment agreement that gave cause for termination. And she supposed it was very much a double job offer. One as his personal assistant and one as his mistress. Plaything. Possession.

  The job as his PA was just a mask for having unfettered access to her. He wanted her at his beck and call in the office and on any business trips he took. But he took it a step further, because her time away from the office was his as well.

  She frowned as she reached the last page. It was all very well and good to have her read the contract and arrive back on Monday with a decision, but the contract told her nothing other than the fact she gave up all her rights and he took over every aspect of her life. There were no specifics! What did it all mean? What did he expect from her?

  Was he going to tie her to his desk and fuck her at thirty-minute intervals? Did he expect her to give him a blowjob while he was on a conference call? The only reference she’d discovered was a clause under the point referring to sex where it stated that such acts could and would involve bondage, restraint and pain play at his discretion.

  She couldn’t even wrap her brain around all that could entail.

  She wasn’t an idiot when it came to sex. She wasn’t a virgin, and she’d had steady boyfriends. But they were decidedly vanilla relationships, and she was fine with that. It had never occurred to her to break out the kink.

  It all just sounded very porny to her, and it was made sillier by the fact that there was an actual contract where she signed away the rights to her own body.

  The longer she sat here and read over it, the more worked up she got.

  She skimmed through another paragraph extolling the importance of her knowing precisely what she was getting into and that by signing the contract she agreed not to misrepresent her relationship with Gabe to any outside source, including various media outlets.

  Holy hell. Media? What was she going to do, get on Good Morning America and tell the world that she’d been Gabe Hamilton’s plaything?

  When she got to the next paragraph, her eyes widened further.

  A full physical report would be furnished to her by Gabe’s personal physician, and she would be expected to undergo a similar physical so that both parties would be ensured of a clean bill of health and to be free of diseases. And furthermore, she would be expected to take birth control, and condoms would only be provided in the event of interaction with another person who was not Gabe.

  She plopped the contract down on her lap as her mouth fell open. What the hell did that mean? Was she expected to entertain anyone of his choosing?

  Her head spun with the implications.

  She’d certainly been right to question whether she was capable of taking on a man like Gabe. He was so far out of her league that it wasn’t even funny. She’d never even heard of half the stuff detailed in this agreement.

  His comment came back to mind of when he’d said he’d be patient and guide her through his expectations. She wanted to laugh. Hell, she was going to need a full-on tour guide for this trip. Google was going to get a workout later, because she was going
to have to look up most of the stuff detailed here.

  Her hands trembled as she picked the contract up again and read the last page. This was insane. But more insane was the fact she hadn’t already torn it up and let Gabe know exactly what he could do with it.

  Was she actually contemplating agreeing to it?

  Her emotions were a mixture of holy fuck and oh my God. Part of her wanted to find out just how debauched Gabe was. Judging by this contract, he leaned pretty far away from anything resembling conventional.

  She vaguely remembered the fallout of his divorce from Lisa, but that had been several years before, and she’d been young. She knew it hadn’t been pretty and that it had affected his relationships with women ever since, but had they had this kind of relationship? Had he been burned by it? Normal people wouldn’t go to these kinds of lengths to cover every nuance of a relationship.

  Now she wondered about all the other women Gabe had been with. Not that she’d ever been introduced to any of them, but she’d heard Jace and Ash talk. If he had a contract ready at the drop of a hat, that told her it was likely one that he furnished to all his women.

  That left a sour taste in her mouth. No, she didn’t expect that she’d be any different than anyone who came before her, but it was nice to think that she was special or at least original. Not lumped in with every other female he’d slept with.

  But then she’d rather he be blunt with her and not mislead her. At least she knew precisely where she stood with him. And he had been clear that he wanted her to go in with her eyes wide open. Well hell, after reading this, her eyes were going to be permanently wide.

  She checked her watch and realized she had time to get to the pastry shop if she started walking now. She folded the contract and shoved it back into her bag, and headed in the direction of La Patisserie.

  She dug out her phone as she went, and not surprisingly, there were half a dozen messages from her best friend already. All wanting to know how it went with Gabe and threats that if she didn’t spill soon, Caroline was going to kill her.

  What the heck was she supposed to say? Somehow, typing Gabe wants me to be his personal plaything didn’t sound right, even if it would probably make Caroline swoon.