Arching her brows, she looked at Jackson over the corn but continued to eat in tidy but extremely efficient rows across that cob without missing a single kernel.
“Donovan had some estate planning for me to complete.”
Finished with the corn, she set it aside and picked up a chicken leg that was almost big enough to wield like a club. “Let me guess, he had about a thousand trees killed?”
“Not at all. It only took a couple of sheets of paper to give you everything he has.”
Her voice was so soft that he barely heard it. “Excuse me?”
“No prenup. He gave you everything. Even if you change your mind and don’t marry his sorry ass.” Jackson laughed, but it sounded odd in the heavy silence. “I thought you’d be thrilled.”
“What woman wouldn’t be,” she replied, her voice curiously flat.
Jackson looked at her and then his friend. Donovan had flattened both hands on the table, entirely focused on her. He practically vibrated with expectation. If he’s waiting for her to throw herself into his arms with joy, he’s going to be waiting a very long time.
“Change it,” she said in that still, achingly soft voice. “Now.”
“No,” Donovan replied, just as softly, though his hands trembled. “What’s the count?”
What the hell? Is he actually scared of her? This curvy, sweet-faced woman with the gentle voice who practically melted in his arms?
“Don’t you dare make me embarrass you in front of your friend.”
“What’s the count?” Donovan repeated. “And I don’t care if he knows. If I cared, I wouldn’t have asked him to stay for dinner or told him to tell you why he’s here.”
“You don’t care if I know…what?” Jackson asked. “Should I leave?”
“Yes,” Lilly said at the same time as Donovan replied, “No.”
“If you tell me that one more time so help me God…”
“What?” Donovan taunted, calmly picking up his fork again. “What will you do?”
“If we didn’t have company, I’d bend you over the fucking table and beat you within an inch of your life.” Her voice lowered, each word rougher, meaner, until goose bumps broke out on Jackson’s arms. “Every motherfucking night. For a month. And I wouldn’t let you come once no matter how much you begged me to fuck you. How’s that for a challenge, Mr. Morgan? Is that what you wanted me to say in front of your college buddy?”
That voice. God. The power vibrated in every nerve of his body, thrumming his very bones. Jackson could only stare at her, letting her words sink into him. So that’s what Donovan’s up to. Somehow, I never knew, even though I’m not shocked either. How could I be when I want the same thing?
“Pretty much,” Donovan replied with a wry little smile at his friend. “So you see why I’m willing to give her everything I own?”
“Yeah.” Jackson had to clear his throat. Sweat trickled down his back and if his friend’s hands had been trembling before, that was nothing compared to the earthquake shaking his entire body. “Where do I get one?”
She slammed her chicken leg down on her plate, splashing gravy on the linen tablecloth. Slowly, she pushed to her feet. She might have been just a little over five feet tall, but damned if she didn’t loom. “Where do you get one…? Are you fucking for real?”
He worked all day everyday keeping his emotions buried. He couldn’t do his job if he let his emotions rule him. He had to stay cool, calm and fast on his feet. But more, he had to always push. Look for that weakness in his enemy and figure out how to exploit it, while knowing his own weaknesses and hiding them as thoroughly as possible.
Even from myself.
All of those denied emotions roiled inside him, threatening to explode. He pushed himself to his physical limits every single day, keeping his body on the edge of exhaustion with a little pharmaceutical help as needed. Not enough to seriously addict him. He was careful. He had to be.
If he was too exhausted to think, he would sleep instead of lying awake and thinking of all the things he wanted and couldn’t have. Never had. On top of all those repressed needs, the most violent emotion threatening to bubble free was rage.
Rage that Donovan found her first.
He couldn’t help but provoke her so she’d be as furious as him. “Evidently I’ve been fucking for fake all my life.” He used his most arrogant voice, designed to drive the opposing counsel mad. “Where did you find her, Donnie?”
“I hired a PI to track her down. She didn’t like that much and told me to go to hell the very first day.”
“Yeah, I could see that. Do you think said PI could track down one for me?”
“You keep saying one.” Her voice cracked with ice, making both men at the table flinch. “You mean a Mistress? A Dominatrix? Is that what you fucking want, Jackson Montgomery Warring?” She moved around the table toward him, and it was all he could do to remain in his seat. Not to flee—to move to meet her. Stand toe to toe with her. And see how quickly she could put him on the floor. “You want a woman like me, is that it?”
She planted her butt on the table beside him and dropped her hand onto his shoulder so hard he flinched again. He might have thought she was a soft, pretty woman, but she was showing him otherwise. Quickly.
“You think this is a game? So did he in the beginning. Now he wears my collar. Now he strips his clothes at my command, kneels at my feet and begs me to whip his ass until he can’t sit at his desk without moaning. Is that what you want too?” She walked her fingers down his chest and he shuddered, unable to control the instantaneous flood of lust that thundered through him. He didn’t care if she was his best friend’s fiancée. Already taken, claimed, ringed and promised. He couldn’t think with her energy humming all around him, breaking through his defenses.
“Sure. I’d be up for that.” He clamped a hand around her wrist and fought not to drag her palm down to his crotch. Most of the time, he forgot he even had a sexual organ. He was simply too tired to think about a physical need that he denied for weeks, months on end. “I’d take the collar and I’d sure kneel at your feet.” He tugged on her hand, trying to bring her closer. “I don’t know about the pain part but if it works for Donnie, I bet it’ll work for me too.”
“Then you’d best watch out, Jackson. My sexy beast won’t like it very much if I have to grab his friend’s cock to keep him under control. Will you, dear?”
“Hell no,” Donovan growled. In fact, he grabbed the back of Jackson’s chair and dragged him away from the table.
Away from Lilly.
“Keep your hands off her, Jack. She’s mine. Nobody touches my Mistress but me.”
Panting hard, Jackson tried to bring himself back under control. His head buzzed, his stomach cramped, and yeah, now he understood why the hell his friend’s hands had been shaking on the table. His entire body pulsated with the need that suddenly became more demanding than the need to breathe. He started to stand, but Donovan seized his shoulders and slammed him back down in the chair. “Stay.”
“It’d be better if she said it.”
Lilly laughed and hopped down off the table to return to her seat. “I don’t give orders to anyone but Donovan now. Sorry.”
He couldn’t help but watch her like a starving wolf, with Donovan glowering and threatening to beat his head in if he even thought about putting a finger on her. “What now? You woke the beast in me. It’s not going to be happy with retreating to its cage any time soon. You did this, Donnie. You made me come here. Now fix it.”
“Fix it?” Donovan finally returned to his chair too. “What the hell do you want me to do?”
“At least give me your PI’s number.”
“Boys.” She interrupted with just enough power threaded through her voice to get their attention. “Don’t you think the only Mistress in the room probably knows a few other Mistresses she might call
upon in an emergency?”
Chapter Two
Watching Jackson stiffen and frown at being called a boy was almost as fun as teasing her very own submissive. If possible, he was even more sleek and svelte than Donovan, a shorter package of expensive, tailored suit and cunning intelligence. A consummate performer, he controlled everything about his responses; no facial tic or casual flick of his hand was accidental. But with just a hint of what a Mistress could do for him, he’d lost all control of himself to the point that his friend had to plant him in his chair and keep him there.
By the glower on Donovan’s face, he didn’t appreciate his friend’s reaction. Not at all. Careful, Lil. I’m guessing there’s some kind of past between them with stolen girlfriends or something to put that edge in him.
“So what are you into, Jackson?” Her chicken was getting cold but that wouldn’t ever stop her from eating it. Not Chris’s, which was better even then Grandma’s. “That’ll give me a clue who to call.”
Loosening his tie and shrugging out of his coat, he took his time answering. “I don’t know.”
Donovan snickered. “Do you think either of us will buy that? For one thing, I’ve seen Hollywood Warring in action. You were a wild man in college.”
“I lived it up while I could, yes. I knew once I selected my firm, I’d be lucky to ever get laid again. I just wouldn’t have time.” He picked up his fork and stirred the mashed potatoes around but didn’t actually eat any. “It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t touch me. It was empty. Meaningless.”
“It didn’t touch the heart of you,” she said gently. “It didn’t fulfill you because it was vanilla.”
“Exactly.” He smiled self-deprecatingly. “I went through so many women because I was always looking for something more. I just couldn’t find it.”
Until now. With you.
He didn’t say it but even Donovan heard the implication. It made his lips tighten and his eyes shuttered again. The cold businessman mask was fully in place.
“Just to be clear up front, I don’t share. Donovan doesn’t share. You’ll have to find your own Mistress. But I know a few Dommes in the business who might consider giving you a trial run.”
“How exactly does it work?” Jackson asked. “Donnie here might have had time to try a few scenes so he knew what he was after, but I’ve never stepped foot in a club, let alone had a date with someone as powerful as you.”
“But that’s what you want. The power. The will.”
His jaw worked a moment before he nodded. “Yes.”
“You want to be made helpless. Controlled by someone else.” He nodded again and set his fork aside. Raising his gaze, he pinned her with all the unspoken need raging inside him. Well, he attempted to pin her. She let her mouth quirk with amusement but didn’t put him in his place. “But you’re not sure about pain or humiliation.”
He stiffened up a little, his shoulders rearing back. “Not exactly. Whatever Donnie’s into.”
It’s not easy for him to admit when he doesn’t know something. “How do you know he doesn’t like to be collared like a dog, chained to my bed, and forced to eat out of a dog bowl? Are you sure you’d be into that?”
His eyes widened and he cast a quick look at his friend. Donovan flipped him off. “I didn’t know people were into that sort of thing.”
She shrugged. “There’s all types, Jackson. Your kink isn’t always going to be Donnie’s or mine or even your potential Mistress’s. You’ll have to figure that out with her.”
“But his kink is your kink?”
“For the most part, yes. We’re still exploring. Someday he might want to try something that I’m not into. It’s my job as his Mistress to decide what we’ll tackle and what we won’t, but most importantly, I have to stay within his limits. We may test those limits on occasion because all of us grow and change over time, but I’ll never violate the trust he’s given me.”
“Go ahead and tell her,” Donovan said.
She jerked her attention to him. For the first time in weeks, her lover boy was blushing. “You know what he’s into?”
“The opposite of my limit. Though I can probably blame that on him.”
Jackson sighed. “I knew you’d never forgive me but I couldn’t help myself.”
It suddenly dawned on her exactly what they were talking about. Laughing, she pushed her plate away in preparation for dessert. “Let me guess. You two used to be college roommates and Jack spied on Donnie with a girl.”
“You got it,” Donovan growled with a dark glare for his friend. “Not once, but many times, until I figured out what the hell he was doing.”
“Ah, lover boy, if you weren’t so damned good at it, maybe he wouldn’t have wanted to watch you so badly.” She had to laugh again as his blush deepened. “Are you bi, Jackson? Or just a voyeur?”
“I’m not attracted to him.” Jackson didn’t blush and he met her gaze straight on without flinching. But his hands checked his cuff links, first one and then the other. “I just like to watch.”
“So if we invited you upstairs right now…”
Jackson smiled. “I’d explode.”
Donovan slammed his palms flat on the table and pushed to his feet. “No fucking way.”
“I’m not inviting,” she soothed. “Just questioning him.”
Slowly, Donovan sat back down with another fierce glare at his friend. “Now I don’t even want him talking to you. Not when it’s obvious what he’d do if I wasn’t here.”
Lilly didn’t try to keep the edge of hurt out of her voice. “Have a little faith in your Mistress. I think I’m more than capable of showing him his place.”
“I know you’re more than capable, but I don’t want you to have to touch him. He’ll enjoy it too much.”
She let a smirk twist her mouth as she settled back in her chair with a glass of wine. “I doubt he’d enjoy having a knot tied in his cock.”
“You never know,” Jackson drawled. “It’s been so long that might be just the trick.”
“So you don’t have any experience with a Mistress, though you liked my show of power and you’re at least a voyeur. You say it’s been a while—how long, exactly?”
“Over a year, other than…” Jackson didn’t blush, not like Donovan, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit in polite company that he’d masturbated. “Not often. I’m just too busy.”
“Do you dream?”
“No.” At the skeptical look she shot him, he continued. “I rarely sleep, so I can’t dream.”
Caution, and yes, suspicion, made her narrow her eyes and search for clues. His eyes were bloodshot and his hands were trembling, but they hadn’t been before, not until her little display, and Donovan’s hands often shook when he responded to her power. No sleeping, no sex, all work. I bet one of Ricardo’s New York chocolate silk pies that Jackson’s doping. Some kind of upper. God help him if it’s cocaine.
“I think I’ve got enough to go on for now. Let me go make some calls. Maybe I can set up a meet for you tomorrow, assuming you’ll still be in town?”
Both men rose as she stood.
“Nothing will convince me to leave now,” Jackson replied. “Not even if Ellen flew in herself to try and drag me away. At least until I see what you can do.”
“Ellen’s his mother,” Donovan explained, his brow wrinkled with concern. “You’re skipping dessert?”
“This is important.” She didn’t kiss him again, not with his voyeuristic friend watching so avidly, but she squeezed his hand. Question him. Find out all you can. She didn’t say it aloud, but he gave a little nod that he understood. “Save some for me.”
By the time Donovan led him back into the front living room, Jackson was barely functioning. The food had helped counteract the beer, but the heavy warmth in the pit of his stomach made his eyes increasingly heavy. He tried to sit
gracefully but slumped on the couch, off balance and unable to muster the will to care.
Eyes narrowed and arms crossed, Donovan growled, “How long have you been up?”
“What day is it?” He slurred the words.
“Friday. November eighth.”
“Forty-eight hours then. I think I napped in the office before I caught the plane to California, and then I came here.”
“Napped. So what, a couple of hours?”
“Thirty minutes. Maybe an hour.”
“That’s it? God, Jack, you can’t do this to yourself. Your body needs to rest.”
“I’ll rest when I’m dead.”
“That’s coming sooner than later,” Donovan muttered, throwing himself down into the chair beside the couch. “You’re using speed again, aren’t you?”
Jackson didn’t try to hide it. “Just enough to get me through the holidays. I’ll cut back then, promise.”
“Jack—”
“I know.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Been there, done that. It almost got me kicked out of college. I know the risks. I can handle it.”
“You can handle it?” Donovan’s voice rang with incredulity. “You can barely hold your head up.”
“Coming down’s hard. I meant to sleep the rest of the weekend at the office, but you tricked me into coming here.”
“It’s that bad in Chicago?”
“Yeah.” Jackson closed his eyes, muscle by muscle relaxing into the cushions. “I don’t even want to go back.”
“So don’t. You know I could use you here. Come work for me. I’ll match your salary and cut you a percentage of Morgan Industries stock. It won’t be what you’re making now, but the stress will be better. Lilly and I will take care of you.”
“I appreciate that, I do, but it’s not the money that keeps me at the firm. I’ve never felt…” He sighed and tried to open his eyes, but they were too heavy. “You’re the best friend I ever had, Donnie. I’m happy for you, I am. But I hate your guts too.”
“I know. Can you make it upstairs? You can sleep it off here.”
The Billionaire's Ink Mistress: Billionaires in Bondage, Book 2 Page 2