Rough Ride (Let it Ride Book 1)

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Rough Ride (Let it Ride Book 1) Page 5

by Cynthia Rayne


  “I’ve never seen you so meek.” His tone was bemused.

  What an asshole.

  “I beg to differ.” Ugh. The words popped out, and I shut my eyes, trying to center myself.

  His answering chuckle was warm and intimate, knowing.

  “Yes, you begged me last night, didn’t you?”

  His tone was husky, and I didn’t dare look him in the eye.

  Besides my face, other body parts were reacting to him—my nipples had pebbled, and I could feel a telltale curl of warmth in my lower stomach.

  “I should’ve recognized you from the start. You looked familiar, but Ravage was out of our usual context. And seeing you lying on the rug, half-naked and waiting for me…,” he drifted off. “Are you ever going to look at me?”

  “Fine.” I raised my head and focused on his forehead. It was all I could manage at the moment.

  “You were so…appealing, I couldn’t resist.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek. “Can’t we forget about it? I’ll email Veronica and say I’m no longer interested in the job so you can…do…er, whatever you like.”

  “No, that’s not what’s going to happen.”

  “Then what is?”

  “Look me in the eye, and I’ll tell you.”

  I forced myself to meet his gaze. It wasn’t easy.

  Lips parted, Malcom watched me with a hungry expression.

  “I’m about to make you a very inappropriate offer, Ms. Vincent. Before I do, I want to be very clear—if you refuse, nothing will happen to you. You’ll continue being my personal assistant until you graduate in May. Or, if you’d prefer to not work with me, I’ll transfer you to another executive, and you can finish out your contract. I’ll never reference last night or this offer ever again. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

  Too late, but I appreciated the thought.

  I swallowed. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t a total asshole. Malcolm had layers, and I was only now discovering them.

  “What offer?”

  He scratched the stubble on his chin. “I had no idea your appetites were in line with my own, so this is an unexpected opportunity.”

  Appetites was the perfect word for it. Last night had made me hungry for more—for him, for what we’d started.

  “But I knew you were different, right from the first, so this shouldn’t be such a big surprise.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re Type A, which sometimes lends itself to submission. Not in my case, of course, but more often than not. Given your tendencies, I’d like you to be my submissive.”

  I hadn’t expected him to proposition me, and I was stunned. For a long time, I said nothing, trying to absorb what he’d said.

  Malcolm let it sink in for a few more seconds.

  “Please understand, this would be a social relationship, not a financial one.”

  I seized on an obstacle.

  “You have a girlfriend.” I’d recovered from initial embarrassment and then the shock of his offer—my nerve was returning.

  “Not if you agree to my proposal. I’ll immediately end it with her.”

  Goodbye Angela, hello farewell flower arrangement.

  “What about my job at Ravage?” Although I doubted I had one after I’d run out of there last night.

  “I understand you just began, but I refuse to share you with another man.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “I wouldn’t be having sex with them.”

  “We both know sex is about more than intercourse. Can you sit there and tell me we weren’t intimate last night?” His brows lifted. “That we didn’t have some form of sex, even if it wasn’t in the conventional sense?”

  I couldn’t argue with his logic.

  “And I’m aware that we…no, I have been taking advantage of your talents with no compensation. Since I’m robbing you of another position, I’m offering you the same salary as my PA, without the insurance benefits, since you’re still an intern. Understand, you’re being paid for your work here, not what we’ll be doing together.”

  It was an excellent offer, but I still didn’t know what to say.

  “And I’d like you to start sitting in on design team meetings. It’s high time you got some experience under your belt.”

  Design team meetings!

  Malcolm was an expert negotiator. That’s what I’d wanted all along, the chance to see how an ad campaign is carried out. I might get something out of this experience yet. I was already picturing my updated resume entry with the new skill sets.

  Plus, I’d have some cash in my pocket—money I’d actually earned, not an allowance from my father. And it wouldn’t be from quasi-sex work.

  “Well, what do you say?” Malcolm leaned forward.

  On the other hand, I’d be starting a fling with my boss. According to Cosmo, it never ended well—for the woman, anyway.

  If I were smart, I’d turn this offer down. Screwing around was a bad idea, but so was the mistress job—and look where it’d led. Every once in a while, risk-taking paid off.

  Besides, this was a much better last gasp plan. I had another chance to do something wild and crazy—this fit the bill in the most pleasurable way. Or maybe I was talking myself into this because I wanted to be with Malcolm again.

  “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  “Excellent.”

  I held out my hand, and he took it. His was warmer than mine—large, strong.

  There was a long pause as we both sat there staring at one another. And in my mind’s eye, I was kneeling at his feet once more, breathless and eager with anticipation. He didn’t release me, and I didn’t pull back either.

  Malcolm’s phone rang, startling us both into letting go.

  “I have to get that. When I finish, I’ll make an early lunch date with Angela and break the bad news today.”

  Wow. He wasn’t wasting any time.

  “Come to my place tonight at eight.” Malcolm picked up the receiver and punched the hold button. “We’ll go over the particulars.” He smirked. “And then we’ll see what happens.”

  I knew exactly what would happen.

  And I couldn’t wait.

  Chapter Seven

  Kate

  I love Malcolm’s apartment.

  As his personal assistant, I’d seen it several times, but I’d never been here with him.

  The day had passed so slowly, minutes ticked by like hours. Although I wasn’t sure if it was anticipation or dread I felt.

  When I arrived on his doorstep, Malcolm had taken my coat and excused himself to answer the phone. For the most part, his time wasn’t his own. Most of our meetings were interrupted by knocks on the door or phone calls.

  He’d told me to have a seat, but I was too restless. I drifted around the place, trying to distract myself.

  Again, I had the urge to nibble on my thumbnail but stifled the impulse. As soon as I got home, I vowed to put a clear coat on them as an extra layer of protection. If was going to go on interviews in the next couple of months, I needed to look put together.

  Assuming I ever figured out what the hell I wanted to do with my life. But this was hardly the time or place for another freak-out.

  Malcolm had a loft apartment with high ceilings and a lot of space. The walls were brick, and the wooden floors were varnished to a gleaming shine. One wall had floor to ceiling windows, which led out to a terrace.

  I’d had a coffee break there a couple of times, looking out at the city. Gazing down at 5th Avenue made me feel small, which was strangely relaxing. But it was too chilly to go outside tonight.

  Malcolm had large black and white photographs all over the apartment. The first time I’d come here, I’d been mesmerized by his work.

  My favorite photo was a barefoot young woman in a sheer skirt. Her pose was seductive at first glance, but the photo wasn’t sexual. Her eyeliner was smudged as though she’d been crying, and her eyes were ancient, restless, even though she couldn’t be more
than nineteen or twenty.

  It was a thought-provoking piece. I wonder where she came from, what led her to become a prostitute.

  Malcolm had real talent. What had made him give up his art to pursue commerce? Sure, the money had to be better, but didn’t artistic types crave something more esoteric? Darcy was a writer and claimed she’d be obliged to write regardless of whether she sold anything or not.

  As a business major, I couldn’t relate. I loved advertising—it was so slick and packaged, devoid of any negative emotions.

  I had a sudden realization—I hardly knew Malcolm, not the real him, anyway. At work, people always put on a show, a front for their co-workers to see. Malcolm had a reputation for being a total alpha—a real bastard, but there was more to him. I’d gotten a couple of glimpses behind the cold corporate curtain.

  What hadn’t I discovered yet?

  And had I really agreed to this strange arrangement? I must’ve been insane.

  “Sorry for the interruption.” He walked back into the room, holding a bottle of red wine. “Would you like a drink?”

  “God, yes.” He’d almost read my mind. I’d have something to hold, focus on— besides the kinky sex to come.

  Smiling, Malcolm poured two glasses, and we sat on his leather sofa. I shifted positions, trying to get comfortable, but no such luck.

  Comfortable wasn’t in the cards.

  “You look thoughtful. What’s on your mind?”

  “What do you want from me?” I blurted it out.

  He raised a brow.

  “Sorry.” I ran damp palms down my thighs.

  “Do you mean expectation-wise?” Malcolm rested his arm along the back of the couch. He looked completely at ease, and I envied his laidback detachment.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll answer your question, but first—relax. Breathe, take a couple sips of wine. Tonight’s going to be special. Nothing bad will happen here. I promise.”

  I did as he asked, then tried the wine.

  It was light and fruity-tasting, although a bit dry for me. Then again, I love sweet dessert wines. Now I could legally buy whatever alcohol I wanted, so it had lost some of its appeal. Must be the forbidden fruit angle—which is why this thing with Malcolm was so damn appealing.

  The alcohol did the trick, though. The knot in my stomach eased, and I shook off some of the uncertainty.

  “Feeling better?”

  I nodded.

  “Good. Now, let me put your fears to rest. I’m a dominant man—not an asshole.”

  I couldn’t help but grin.

  “Some misogynistic bastards call themselves masters, but they’re pricks who hate women. They’d be scared shitless of someone like you.”

  An image of Seth popped into my head—the way he swaggered around the office, leering, overcompensating for something. And I’m betting it was pretty damn small. Yeah, I’d met my fair share of knuckle-dragging apes who had a problem with strong women.

  “I know the type—total dude bros with tiny junk and no manners.”

  He snorted. “Well, I don’t have a problem in that department.”

  Hello, Magnums.

  Last night, I’d gotten a preview when he’d rubbed up against me, and I couldn’t wait to see for myself.

  Malcolm smirked. “I like to be in charge in the bedroom, but you and I are equals outside of it. We’re not at the same stage in life, but you’re bright, talented, and you’ll do great things.”

  He sounded so sure about me. I wish I could share his confidence, but I loved the kind words. They gave me a little boost.

  “Good.” He slapped his knees.

  I bit my lower lip, imagining his palm coming down on my backside again and again.

  His eyes followed the movement, but he said nothing. “Since we’ve established a framework for this relationship, I’m going to lay down a few ground rules.”

  “Rules?” Uh oh. “Like what?”

  “Calm down, nothing too strenuous.”

  “Give me an example?”

  “We’ll start with an easy one. Your orgasms belong to me now. You aren’t allowed to touch yourself without my express permission.”

  For a moment, I was speechless. Hmm…actually that rule was kinda hot.

  “Okay.”

  Although, perversely, I wanted to touch myself even more. I already knew I’d be thinking about him later tonight while I showered. I hope he was planning on letting me come. Last night would’ve been the best sex of my life if we’d had a chance to…close the deal.

  “Good. For the next order of business, we need to talk about titles. I want you to call me ‘sir.'”

  “Sir, huh?” I beamed. “I knew you liked it.”

  Malcolm cocked a brow. “Yeah, I did.”

  “I guess that’s why you haven’t fired me, huh? And why you bought me the cupcake, which was delicious by the way. You’ve wanted me for a while.”

  His expression gave away nothing, but I was right—I just knew.

  “Why sir and not master?”

  “A master is a dominant who’s offered a submissive a collar. It’s an established, exclusive arrangement, and we aren’t there at the moment. We might never get to that stage. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” It suited me fine. I was dipping my toe into these kinky waters and wasn’t ready to dive off into the deep end quite yet.

  “You learn fast. Good girl.”

  Surprisingly, the term was a turn-on. Probably because praise had been rare in my house.

  “Next order of business, there’ll be no other men or women for you, but me. I’ll return the favor, and I won’t be playing with anyone else. I believe in monogamy. Any questions?”

  Malcolm was a bit old-fashioned, but I didn’t mind so much.

  “So that means you won’t be going to Ravage?”

  “I won’t need to, if I have you.” His eyes locked on mine.

  And I swallowed. “I guess not.”

  “I need to know what turns you on and what leaves you cold.”

  After poking around on the internet, I had some idea, but what looked hot and what felt good might be two different things.

  “I haven’t done much, so I’m not sure.”

  He nodded. “Then we’ll try some things, and you can decide if you like it or not. What I’m aiming for is mutual pleasure.”

  “Really?”

  “What?”

  I shrugged. “Since you have the dominant role, isn’t it all about you?” At least, that’s the impression I’d gotten from my limited knowledge.

  “Was it all about me last night?”

  A flood of sensual memories turned my face red again.

  “No, I guess not.”

  “A selfish bastard would only care about his own pleasure. Sex is a Venn diagram. Remember those from math?”

  I nodded.

  “What turns me on is in one circle.” To illustrate his point, he held up a hand. “And what turns you on is in another.” Malcolm raised his other hand, then he overlapped the two. “There’s bound to be common ground, and those are the areas we’ll concentrate on. Pushing you to do something you hate isn’t sexy to me. I want you fully invested—willing and eager.”

  My mouth went dry.

  The more he spoke, the more aroused I became. He had a delicious way with words, and I remembered all too well how talented his hands had been.

  But there had to be some catch. He had to have some sort of secret agenda. In my experience, all men did.

  “Seriously, what do you really want from me?”

  “You’d run screaming if I told you.” Malcolm shifted closer, and I resisted the urge to move back.

  I gripped the wine glass. “Try me.”

  “At Ravage, I was paying for a service, but with you, I want it all. I’m not looking for a body to fuck. True, I want something wild and passionate, but I need a connection—a deep bond with a sub.”

  It’s a good thing I was seated because my knees went a li
ttle weak.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can fuck a woman, no problem. I’m not bad looking, I’m wealthy, and a good lay, but I don’t want just anyone.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re so cocky.”

  “You’ll get used to it. And this is going to sound like a line, but it’s the truth.” Malcolm leaned even closer to whisper in my ear. “When I kiss you, I want you to forget everything else. I want to fuck you—all of you—body, heart, mind, soul. I want to know you, Kate, better than I know myself.”

  It sounded like Malcolm wanted to crawl inside my head and poke around a bit. I’d never given so much of myself to anyone.

  And I wasn’t sure if I was capable of so much.

  Sure, I had screwed around and played kissy face, but nothing so intense, so serious. I sure hadn’t bared my soul to anyone.

  Was I ready? I wasn’t sure.

  “Talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  He was right—part of me wanted to run, but I wanted him more. But I refused to make him any promises.

  “I’m willing to try, see what happens.”

  “You aren’t all the way sure?”

  After a moment, I nodded. I wondered if it’d make him angry.

  But the tension in his shoulders released. “I’ll never be upset with you, if you tell me the truth. We’ll take it slow and steady.”

  He made it sound so simple, but I wondered if I could let my guard down and let him in.

  “Any other rules?”

  “I reserve the right to add to or tweak the list, but one more came to mind. When we’re alone together, I want you naked in my presence.”

  Oh, the images that flitted through my mind.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Instead of speaking, Malcolm gave me a commanding stare.

  Then it dawned on me.

  “Oh, you want me to strip now.”

  “Yes.” His tone was even, but firm. “Now.”

  I stood and faced him.

  Unlike last night, this was all too real. This was Malcolm, my boss, and I was his intern. He wasn’t my dream lover, and this wasn’t an erotic fantasy.

  Yet somehow, this was even racier.

  I’d been battling an attraction to him for a very long time.

 

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