Young, Allyson - Wishes (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Allyson Young

  * * * *

  Kennedy shifted her purse to the arm that held the sack with the wine bottle in order to free the hand holding the keys to her door. She held the keys between her knuckles, making them into a pretty fair weapon. Old habits. She had interviewed twice today for PA positions, and both looked promising. One was with an oil company director and the other for a CEO of a popular fashion outlet. Kennedy had liked both men and would find it hard to choose between the two if the jobs were offered to her. She had a week to wait and three more interviews lined up between then and now, so she was confident that she would once again be gainfully employed. She wasn’t used to quiet, empty days, particularly when her recent time with Madison and Alberta was spent ignoring a really big elephant in the room or working hard at not thinking about that big elephant. But for now, all she could think about was getting into some comfortable clothes and pouring a big glass of wine.

  The biggest part of the elephant stood outside her apartment door. Actually, he leaned against the doorjamb, his arms folded across his chest, totally relaxed. Kennedy began to back up slowly. Graham wore tailored pants and a short sleeve button-down shirt, his feet shod in nice leather slip-ons, but he still reminded her of a dangerous animal, one she had already poked with a stick.

  “Ms. Johnson,” he rumbled. “I wonder if I might have a word with you?”

  Kennedy continued to back away. “Okay,” she said carefully. “We can talk on the sidewalk.” She wondered if she could club him with the bottle of wine if he rushed her.

  Graham chuckled. “I assure you, Ms. Johnson, you have nothing to fear from me. We are not at the club, and in any event, you are more than capable of taking care of yourself.”

  Kennedy shook her head. “Uh-uh. Sorry. I don’t know how you found out where I live…” She stopped. How could they do this to her? They were supposed to be her friends!

  “Go away, Mr. Alexander. Go. Or I’ll call the police and report a stalker.”

  She watched as Graham visibly turned on the charm, working hard at being convincing and trying to look as nonthreatening as possible. “Could I take you to dinner, then?”

  Kennedy wheeled and took off for the main door of the building. Graham uncoiled his broad frame and beat her to it. He must have accepted that she was afraid of him, for he backed up, holding up both hands in a gesture of surrender.

  “Ms. Johnson,” he spoke quietly, “I owe you an apology and would really like to just talk with you.”

  Kennedy pushed through the outside door to mingle with the pedestrians on the opposite side of the street.

  Chapter Three

  Kennedy huddled over a hot chocolate in the little diner she had stumbled into after making a fool of herself. Graham had scared her for sure, and she had slipped back into a time where running and hiding might have saved her if only she had had the option. But this time she was running from herself, too, from that strange attraction. She couldn’t even use humor or sarcasm to coax her brain into minimizing it. She had read everything she could download on BDSM that night after she got home and thought she understood him. But she knew that she would never get the drop on that man again, and so he wasn’t safe to be around. The problem was, she didn’t want to be safe. She didn’t want to get hurt, either, although she really didn’t think Graham would hurt her. Erotic pain was different than other pain, apparently, and that over-the-knee spanking had underscored that fact. But she preferred not to think about pain. No, Graham Alexander wouldn’t hurt her, except to take everything, as a Dom, that she had to give and leave her empty and alone. That was what truly scared the shit out of her. She couldn’t give anyone, let alone a man, that kind of power. It was too bad the future kind of stretched out there, looking pretty empty. Sighing, she called Madison from her cell. They had a brief, if spirited, exchange that ended with Madi apologizing and offering her the use of her extra bedroom. Kennedy refused the offer and took heart that Madi was done with her meddling.

  Graham was nowhere to be seen when she went back to her apartment. After locking up, she changed her clothes and found her biggest wineglass. She curled up in the tub chair and sipped, carefully keeping her mind empty, until hunger pangs reminded her that lunch had been a very long time ago. Kennedy fixed herself a peanut butter sandwich, ignoring the caloric intake, and chewed it down while she ran a bath. Wine, peanut butter, a hot bath, all comfort for her. She would read a mystery while she soaked and then climb into bed, swathed in her coziest pajamas, and read some more until she fell asleep. The job hunt would fill her time until she conquered her feelings and stray thoughts.

  Madison called the next morning, waking Kennedy from a sleep filled with strange and distracting dreams. She ignored the familiarity of the man filling the starring role.

  “Morning, hon!” Madi’s happy voice grated in her ears. “Do you have time for breakfast today?”

  “What time is it, Madi?” Kennedy croaked.

  “Maybe seven or so. I don’t know. I’m hungry and want to have breakfast with you.”

  “When?”

  “I’ll pick you up in half an hour, and we’ll swing by to grab Alberta.”

  Kennedy stifled a groan. Madi was trying to make up for giving that man her address. Now it was up to her to make nice back.

  “Okay, but I’m not dressing up,” she groused.

  “Whatever, but it’s a nice place,” Madi trilled happily before she hung up.

  Well, shit. Kennedy rolled off the bed and padded over to her closet. She yanked a sundress off its hanger and found a shrug. The weather was fine, the air-conditioning lethal. It was a wonder people weren’t dropping like flies with pneumonia. Probably they were used to it, but she couldn’t afford to get sick. Kennedy quickly washed up and then braided her hair, leaving a few tendrils loose to soften the look, and applied a little makeup. The sundress fit perfectly, displaying her breasts in an understated way, the fabric slipping over her and softening her curves, falling to just above the knee. Dressy sandals with a little heel and a large straw bag completed the look. At least for a summer in Connecticut. Well, it was what she had in her wardrobe, and it was what she would wear in Texas, confident it made the best of her shape and looks.

  Madi was waiting outside in her little sports car, so Kennedy slipped in beside her and they were on their way. Madi looked like the runway model she was when the mood struck her, dressed in a beautiful linen dress with matching pumps and understated gold jewelry. The morning air felt delicious after her restless night and Kennedy closed her eyes to better enjoy it.

  “Whatcha thinking about?” asked Madi.

  “Just enjoying the weather, Madi,” she replied. “Aren’t we picking up Alberta?”

  “She wouldn’t get out of bed,” huffed Madi. “She met some guy at the club the other night, and that’s why we hardly ever see her.”

  Kennedy wondered if the guy might be Graham Alexander, then quickly pushed the thought away. “I hope he’s a nice person, Madi. I know that most of the men who go to that club are, well…”

  Madi’s laughter cut her off. “They’re mostly Doms, Kennedy. It’s okay to say it. But I think Alberta is involved with a switch, you know, somebody who likes to dominate and be dominated. You know how Alberta gets. He might be perfect for her.”

  Kennedy chewed on that information for a while. She loved her friends but was beginning to think she had never really known them. How could that be? They had been friends since grade school, inseparable. Sure, Alberta was the alpha bitch, and Madi the follower, mostly always acquiescent. Kennedy did what she wanted to do. Sometimes she would go along with Alberta, but other times she would walk away. Madi hated that when it happened, hated controversy. But then Alberta would give in, and Kennedy would rule for a while. Kennedy thought she had always been an independent type. She had to be, in her family. If one didn’t take care of oneself, then no one else stepped up to the plate. Her parents probably loved her, their only “accident,” but had been neglectful, allowing her to
scramble up on her own, learning right from wrong from some pretty special neighbors and teachers, who also provided crucial supervision and discipline. Her parents had both died in a car accident just before she graduated college. All in all, she hadn’t turned out too badly and life had been going pretty well until just over a year and half ago. Until her boss’s nephew.

  Kennedy breathed and grounded herself just like the therapist had coached her to do, and the feeling of being closed in passed. A bit of self-talk and she was good to go. Damn that Graham Alexander for stripping her of her control and infusing it with arousal. It all wove together, and how was she ever going to cope if he didn’t keep his distance? Because she knew he hadn’t given up. She didn’t know how she knew that, but she did, just as she had known the sun was going to rise this morning. She would resist of course, but she didn’t appreciate the work ahead of her to dissuade him.

  Madi pulled up to a restaurant that featured valet parking. This was going to cost. Madi came from money and only modeled when she liked the product, so for sure, Madi was picking up this tab. Kennedy had money in the bank on top of her savings. It had been termed severance pay, but it was really conscience money. It spent the same though. However, she needed enough to live on until she got another job, and eating out all the time, especially in this kind of place, wasn’t part of her life plan at the moment. They climbed out of the car, and the valet whisked it off. Kennedy followed Madi inside, blinking at the sudden transition from bright sunlight to muted lighting.

  “Patrick!” Madi called, rushing across the room past the hostess to throw her arms around a tall, dark-haired man who cuddled her close and dropped a kiss on her hair.

  Kennedy followed more leisurely. She should have known that Madi would have a man in every restaurant. She smiled indulgently, mirroring the look on the guy’s face as he helped Madi into a chair. He was clearly nuts about her friend, so he was okay in her book. The alarm bell rang in her head as his name registered. Patrick. Not a really common name these days. Where had she heard that name recently?

  Kennedy stopped by the table and fixed a look on her friend. Enough was enough. If Graham Alexander popped out of the woodwork, she was going to stab him with one of those lovely, silver bread knives lying on the table and then slap her friend silly.

  Madi looked up and her, and her face sobered.

  “Kennedy?” she said. “This is Patrick Morrison. He…”

  Kennedy broke in, “I know who Mr. Morrison is, or at least where he works, Madi. Don’t get up. I’ll get a cab.”

  “Ms. Johnson.” Patrick’s deep voice froze her in her tracks. He clearly didn’t like her treatment of Madi, and while she could admire him for his loyalty, what about Madi’s loyalty to her?

  She stared at him and waited him out.

  “Madison was certain you would not come if you knew I would be here, Ms. Johnson,” Patrick stated, giving her a dark stare. “However, I would be obliged if you would have breakfast with us and hear me out. Madison cares about you and would not do this if she believed it wasn’t in your best interest.”

  “Quite frankly, Mr. Morrison, I’m not certain Madi, or Alberta for that matter, know what is in my best interest anymore. I don’t think I know them anymore. I have tried to make it clear to Mr. Alexander that his attentions are not welcome, and yet he persists. It is upsetting, and I won’t put up with it.” Kennedy turned to leave, avoiding the tears now standing in Madi’s eyes.

  “Actually, Ms. Johnson,” he advised, “this has nothing to do with Graham, although you should know he is my best friend and I will of course defend him unless he acts in a way that is indefensible. The purpose of this breakfast is twofold. Madison insisted that I meet you because we are in a relationship, and she wanted me to meet her best friend. You are hurting her with your stubborn attitude. Secondly, I understand you are in need of a job, and I am in the market for a personal assistant.”

  Kennedy tried not to gape like a fish. She closed her mouth with a snap and searched for words. “I apologize to you both. My mistake. Congratulations, Madi. And you, Mr. Morrison, I hope you realize what a wonderful woman you are in a relationship with.”

  The “and you’d better not fuck her over” didn’t have to be added. It hung there in the silence like the unspoken threat that it was.

  “Call me Patrick please, Kennedy. I do so appreciate loyalty. Will you join us so we can discuss the PA position over breakfast.” It wasn’t a request, and Kennedy heard the order in his tone and balked.

  “Sorry, Mr. Morrison. It’s likely I already have a job judging from the way my last two interviews went, and I quite frankly have no interest in being a PA for someone who works in, or for, the kind of club you are connected to. Madi, I’m sorry, but I am so done with surprises.”

  * * * *

  Madi sighed as she watched her best friend leave the restaurant. Patrick pulled her close and kissed the top of her head.

  “Kennedy has been through a lot, Patrick,” she reminded him. “And Alberta and I have changed over this past while, or at least come into ourselves. Kennedy doesn’t understand that yet. I shouldn’t have pushed her so hard.”

  “I convinced you that Graham would likely be the perfect Dom for your friend, Madison,” Patrick reassured her. “You are correct in recognizing a woman who desperately needs to let someone take over for her, even if it is just in the bedroom. Kennedy quite obviously carries too heavy a burden. But we have tried our best. It’s now up to Graham.”

  Madison shook her head. “Graham will not control her, Patrick. Truly he won’t. She’s different than I am. Iwant you to take charge. I need you to. I trust you one hundred percent with my whole self. Kennedy doesn’t trust anyone now, not even me, and because of what I just did, she’s alone.”

  The tears slipped out of her eyes and flowed over her cheeks, unchecked. Patrick held her and rocked her gently.

  * * * *

  Kennedy walked for miles and miles in the general direction of her apartment. She found herself on residential streets lined with mature trees and wondered at the luck of the people, the families who lived there. The longing she felt for such a life was something she rarely allowed herself to consider, but it was there, nevertheless. It was a lot to ask for, a husband, a house like one of these in a similar neighborhood, a child, maybe even a pet. A vision of Graham Alexander, dressed in those tight leather pants, his chest bare, rose up in her head, and she choked back hysterical laughter. Time to find a cab.

  By the time she got home, Kennedy was regretting her long walk. Her feet were sore and blistered and not a little swollen, and she was sunburned. She was preoccupied with her discomfort and didn’t notice who opened the door of her building to allow her to precede him. But she smelled him, a warm, manly smell mixed with a hint of citrus. Enough. No more running.

  “Why are you here?” she demanded.

  Graham stared down at her, his gray eyes warm somehow, a tiny frown marring his brow.

  “Patrick called and said he had offended you. I’ve been waiting for hours for you.”

  “I hardly need to explain where I was…” Kennedy stopped, about to do just that. What was it with this man? She had to get away from him.

  She turned away and tried not to obviously limp. Instantly he was at her side, firmly removing the keys from her hand, moving ahead to open her apartment door. Kennedy wanted to cry. She was sore and tired and couldn’t do this anymore. She ducked her head.

  “Do you want me to carry you?” Graham asked.

  Kennedy didn’t trust her voice so shook her head and made her way into her apartment. She sank down on the nearest surface, which just happened to be the couch, and reached to unfasten her sandals. Graham was already kneeling beside her and gently pushed her hands away. He eased the offending footwear off and tensed at her hiss of pain, which was coupled with relief.

  * * * *

  Fuck, that little noise she made sent all the blood to his cock. It was the same little hitch of brea
th he had heard when he spanked her. He was some kind of deviant for sure. Kennedy’s feet were clearly hurting, and here he was wondering if he could get a look up the skirt of the cute little dress she was wearing. He looked at her face instead and saw that she had leaned her head back on the couch, her eyes closed. She had gotten a whole lot of sun, and while some kind of sweater thing had protected her shoulders, her forearms, neck, and face were really pink. So were her calves and the tops of her feet. Her silky, ivory skin was going to peel if he didn’t help her out. At least that was what he told himself.

  After his initial plan of charm and seduction had backfired and he had scared his little woman, he thought he might have sabotaged his hope of connecting with her. Except it felt like he had no choice. If that made him a stalker, well, tell that to his cock, and his gut, too. Mostly his gut and maybe another more important organ just north of his gut. Shit. He heard about lightning striking other men and had felt sorry for them. Now there could be a pity party for him. Time to try Plan B.

  Graham located the bathroom and began to fill the tub. He found some white vinegar in the door of the fridge and soaked a washcloth in it. He and his little woman were going to have to invest in washcloths the way they were using them for injuries. He went back to find Kennedy still in the position he had left her and marveled that she was asleep.

  “Honey,” he said by her ear, “Kennedy, wake up.”

  Kennedy sat up with a start and nearly cracked him in the face with her forehead. Good God, he was going to need disability insurance around her.

  Kennedy looked at him through narrowed eyes. “Why are you still here? Go away.”

  “I’m going to help you with that sunburn, honey, and fix up your feet,” he advised her.

  “I’m good. I can take care of myself. Thanks,” she added as an afterthought.

  Graham ignored her and pressed the cloth on her forearm. Kennedy went rigid at the initial touch, and then, as the discomfort of the burn obviously diminished, she laid her head back again and allowed him to apply the cloth to her arms and her face. She stiffened again when he touched her neck but gradually relaxed. Graham carefully folded her dress up to a modest length before he treated her legs, trying to show respect, and was rewarded when Kennedy sighed her appreciation. Her bonelessness quickly dissipated when he then swung her up into his arms and walked with her to the bathroom.