by Evie Hunter
‘But not so busy I won’t expect you online at ten tonight.’
She looked up then. ‘But –’
He kept his voice stern. ‘You thought I’d let you off?’
‘Well …’
‘Not going to happen. But I have another account on Yahoo. Any time you need to chat to me, call Michael Delaney and I will answer.’
He had no idea why he gave her that account name. It was his private one.
‘Who is Michael Delaney?’
He didn’t want to think about that. ‘No one. Just a name I use.’
He changed the subject. ‘Are we clear? I’ll expect you at ten sharp. And Abbie?’ She met his eyes. ‘We are going to take this seriously.’
She nodded. He dressed quickly and kissed her before he headed to LA.
Abbie couldn’t wait for the weekly service clean. She dug out the vacuum cleaner and swept up the feathers. She would probably be finding them for weeks. They had already made their way into the bedroom and bathroom. Little souvenirs of Jack, all waiting to ambush her.
She washed the dishes he had used the night before and poured the iced water into the sink. She looked around her. The apartment was restored to its pre-Jack state and she had never felt so miserable. She needed caffeine and Kit.
The coffee shop was crowded with Sunday morning customers, all enjoying brunch. She flopped down into a chair opposite Kit and a waiter arrived to take her order. ‘No fruit, no healthy smoothies, I need blueberry pancakes and coffee, lots of coffee.’
Kit sat back in her chair. ‘Aha, the post-coital special. How was your date with Kevin? Or do I need to ask?’
Abbie flushed. She had completely forgotten about Kevin. He had taken her out to dinner and she had abandoned him. She flipped open her phone. She had to call him and apologize.
‘Abbie, put the phone away and talk to me.’
The waiter returned with coffee and Abbie took a grateful sip, savouring her first caffeine hit of the day. ‘The date with Kevin didn’t go so well.’
‘Let me guess. Jack?’
‘How did you …?’
Kit stirred her berry smoothie with a straw. ‘You have that Jack expression on your face. The one you wear when he’s on your mind. So, tell me exactly what happened and please don’t spare the details. I’m a professional, I can take it.’
‘Bitch.’ Abbie grinned at her. ‘I’m so glad I’m not paying you $200 an hour. I’d be flat broke in no time.’
‘Honey, I will pay you $200 an hour to hear what Jack Winter is like between the sheets. Now, spill.’
‘Well, I went to Mamma D’Inzeo with Kev –’
‘Skip dinner, hon. I’ve already eaten. Fast forward to the Jack part.’
Abbie cringed when she remembered the restaurant. She would never get a reservation there again.
‘Jack turned up at the restaurant and caused a scene.’
Kit’s eyes widened. ‘Bad Boy Winter hits New York. I wish I’d been there to see that. OK, what happened next?’
‘We had an argument in Mamma d’Inzeo’s and …’
‘Back up there a minute. Please pinch me and tell me that Ms Prissy did not have a screaming match in a public place.’ Kit’s delighted laugh could be heard three tables away.
Abbie flushed. People were beginning to stare at them. ‘Will you please be quiet?’
‘Sorry, sorry. Oh god, I wish I’d been there.’
‘There was a moment when I wished you were there too, so I could give you a piece of my mind.’
‘Huh?’
‘He let slip that he’s the Dom your friend set me up with. He’s the one I’ve been telling my secrets to every night, the one who’s supposed to be helping me explore my submissive side.’
‘Oh, Abbie,’ Kit said. ‘I don’t know what to say. Paloma is very discreet about her Doms. I didn’t know she knew him, though I suppose they would have been on the same scene here before he went to LA. I’m really sorry.’
‘It’s OK. You’re forgiven.’ If it hadn’t been for Kit, she wouldn’t have connected with Jack online.
‘So, what happened when you found out?’
‘I threw a jug of iced water over him.’
Kit covered her mouth. Her cornrow braids bobbed up and down as her shoulders shook. After a few seconds she regained her composure and took a long sip from her smoothie.
Abbie was tempted to giggle. Looking back on it, she supposed it had been kind of funny. She never would have thought that she would do something so melodramatic. She caught an interested glance from the couple at the next table. There was no way that she could share the details of her encounter with Jack here. They needed to find somewhere private. They chatted about other things and then Abbie paid the bill and they stepped out into the November sunshine. The air was crisp and cold. She pulled her scarf around her neck, fighting the chill of the breeze.
Kit waved down a cab. ‘We can go to my apartment, it’s closer than yours.’
The tiny apartment had been Kit’s home since college. The loft held her eclectic collection of finds gathered on her travels in Mexico and India. A colourful silk batik throw covered one wall and a curtain of beads screened the galley kitchen. Kit busied herself in the kitchen brewing a pot of tea while Abbie settled on a cushion-laden couch: another of Kit’s charity-shop finds.
Abbie pushed a pile of Psychiatry Now journals aside to make room for the tray. The samovar had lost its gilt a long time before Kit had found it. She poured the steaming tea into mismatched cups and lit a candle.
The tea smelled of winter spice and reminded Abbie of Christmas. She wondered about the child – she was certain that Jack had been speaking to a child – who had demanded a snow globe. What if Jack already had someone? What if he was married?
She didn’t want to think about that. It was almost a relief when Kit commanded her to talk. She sat back in her chair and sipped her tea, waiting for Abbie to speak.
‘We spent the night together, or rather, we fucked.’ She smiled wryly at her choice of words. ‘Actually, we did quite a lot of other things too. By the time –’ Abbie swallowed hard. ‘By the time he was through, I was begging him to, you know. I never knew it was possible to feel like that, Kit – to give up so much control to another person – and it scared the life out of me.’
‘So it was good, then.’
‘Good doesn’t begin to describe it. I screamed for him. I never wanted it to stop.’
The slow tick of a grandfather clock marked time in the room while she tried to gather her thoughts together. Lying in Jack’s arms. Finding him shaking in the middle of the night. The phone call to the woman and child. She knew almost nothing about the real Jack. Except that she loved him.
What she had experienced with William was a shallow reflecting pool. Jack was a deep ocean that she longed to dive into. She wanted to explore every dark abyss and find the core of the man: the Jack who enjoyed pain. The Jack who spoke so tenderly to a child. The arrogant, insufferable, movie-star Jack. She didn’t know where to start.
‘Do you plan on seeing him again?’
Kit’s question cut through her reverie and Abbie shrugged. ‘He flew back to LA this morning, but we’ll chat tonight.’
‘That’s good, Abbie. The fact that you’re keeping in contact is positive. Just try to take things slow.’
‘I think it’s too late for that. I’m in love with him.’
Home had never looked so big, or so empty. Jack had landed, met Zeke at the airport to get the details of his audition the next day, and had finally got back to his Hollywood mansion. His dogs, two German Shepherd bitches named Blackie and Brownie – it was always a mistake to let your three-year-old niece pick names for dogs – had welcomed him with limitless enthusiasm and drool.
They had barked madly when they realized he was home, and raced up to greet him, jumping all over him and almost knocking him over in their excitement. He laughed, rubbed their ears and allowed them to roughhouse. He wondered
if they would be too vigorous for Abbie. She was a lot smaller than he was. They might knock her over.
Where had that thought come from? He scowled. He had an audition to prepare for, he had to stop thinking about her. Abbie was a career New Yorker. She didn’t belong here, and wouldn’t be meeting his dogs.
Of course, a nagging little voice that sounded a lot like Kevin reminded him that he didn’t belong here either. He had bought this house five years earlier and had barely touched it. His name might be on the power bill, but it wasn’t really his home. The only things he had changed were the gym in the basement and his playroom.
His invitation-only, strictly adults-only playroom. He tried to imagine Abbie there and failed. His vanilla girl would run away screaming at the sight of his A-frame and spanking bench. He took a quick look in as he passed it on the way to the kitchen. All his crops, canes, flails and ropes were neatly hung, waiting for him to use them. Blackie tried to wriggle her way into the room but Jack pulled her out.
‘Come out of there, you brat.’
She whined like a puppy. Jack laughed and rubbed her head, but wouldn’t allow her in. Neither of the dogs was allowed in, but that didn’t stop them being insanely curious.
Tyrell, his personal trainer and personal assistant, strolled out of the kitchen. ‘Good, you’re back. I’ve got a two-hour training session planned for you: weights, cardio and Pilates.’
Jack groaned. Tyrell was ruthless in the gym.
Tyrell grinned nastily. ‘And after that, the real torture starts. You’ve got a full body wax, then a facial scrub, eyebrow shaping, hair styling and a spray tan.’
Jack cursed. The glamorous life of a Hollywood A-lister. His sister thought it was hilarious that he had to spend more time on his beauty routine than she did.
20
By the time he finished his workout and endured hours of manscaping, the only thing keeping him sane was the prospect of getting online to Abbie. He counted down the minutes until it was ten in New York, and then logged on. She was already online, waiting.
That was all it took and his cock swelled. Even after hours of workouts and torture, Abbie only had to write the word ‘Sir’ and he was erect.
He didn’t think he had hurt her, but there had been marks on her skin this morning.
Jack allowed himself to smile when he remembered the state of her apartment after they were finished. Her sitting room was awash with feathers and her bedroom was a mess.
He was impressed by her commitment to her work and how good she was at it. He would never forget the first sight of her jumping into his plane. In the jungle she had admitted that the interview with him was just a ploy to get on the plane, and that time she had only gotten away from the bad guys by the skin of her teeth. It worried him.
He was surprised by how much he wanted her to be careful. He never interfered with his subs outside their sessions, but this was different.
That was the question that mattered. It seemed to him that no one looked after Abbie. He was surprised by how much he wanted to.
Wild orchid is typing.
He could feel her shock and outrage vibrate through the internet. God, he loved pushing her.
He wondered what names she had been about to call him. Something very refined, he was sure.
Yes! She was going to do it. He held his breath while she fiddled with her laptop. A box opened up, showing a quick glimpse of Abbie’s face. Her mouth was slightly open and she looked flushed. She was turned on by this. The angle changed and panned down Abbie’s T-shirt, something loose with a bold design, to her yoga pants. What would she do now?
; She untied the drawstring, shimmied and allowed the black pants to fall out of sight, leaving her in a skimpy pair of green panties. Sure enough, there was even a little white bow, which trembled with each breath. His erection surged to hard, throbbing life.
She stood there for a minute, displaying herself to him, before she switched off the webcam and typed
She had no idea how much.
Wild orchid is typing.
He groaned. He was facing a cold shower before bed.
The buzz of her cell phone woke her and Abbie patted the bedside table trying to find it. With one eye open, she stared at the display. It was Kevin, and it was almost noon. She had tried his number several times the previous day but he hadn’t picked up and she still owed him an apology for the horrible evening in Mamma d’Inzeo’s.
She rolled over. ‘Hi, Kevin.’
‘Awake at last. You must have had a late night.’
‘Um …’ She didn’t want to admit how late or why.
‘How is Jack?’
So much for keeping their relationship discreet, but he was probably in contact with Kevin almost every day. ‘He’s fine, gone back to LA to audition for some big part.’
‘Poor bastard. It’s still the most nerve-wracking part of the business. So, what do you say we meet up and have coffee? I can’t ask you to dinner again. Jack would kill me.’
‘Lunch would be good.’ Abbie rattled off the address of her favourite coffee bar and tumbled out of bed.
Ninety minutes later she was sitting opposite him at the same table she and Kit had shared the day before.
‘I’m sorry,’ they both chorused in unison and then laughed.
‘Sorry, Abbie. I wouldn’t have hit on you if I had known that you were still involved with Jack. He won’t tolerate anyone else near his women.’
His women. Was that what she was? One of Jack’s women.
‘I didn’t realize I was,’ she said.