by Hannah Ford
His other hand slid over my hip and down to the bottom of my skirt. He tugged the fabric up gently.
I started to look away from him, the way I knew he liked, but he stopped me.
“Eyes on me, baby,” he said, his tone sharp. “I want to see your pretty face while I do this.”
I returned my gaze to his, my heart thrumming against my ribs. Wanted to see my pretty face when he did what? I wondered, slightly panicked. But I forced myself to relax, to give myself to him the way he wanted. I knew he would never hurt me, would never push me past the point of what I was comfortable with.
He pushed my thong to the side slowly and rubbed the knuckles of his closed hand against my clit as my breath hitched. Then Callum unfurled his fingers, and I felt something small and U-shaped against my pussy and then he was pushing it inside of me.
My hands were on his biceps and my grip tightened. “Callum –”
“Shhh,” Callum said. “Just relax. It will be easier if you relax.”
I did my best to do as he said, relaxing my body against him as he finished pushing whatever it was inside of me. When he was done, my pussy was full and there was a gentle pressure against my clit.
“What is it?” I asked.
“A hook vibrator,” he said, fixing my skirt. “It’s on a blue tooth remote control that’s connected to my phone.”
A remote control! What in the crap?
“Can you feel it?’
I nodded. It was inside of me, stretching my pussy and hooking up against my clit. It wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly, but I was definitely aware of it.
He kissed me again, his mouth minty fresh. “It’s small,” he said. And then he grinned wickedly. “That’s how we’ll start.”
* * *
When we got outside, Callum’s car was parked against the sidewalk, and his driver handed us each a Starbucks coffee in one of their trademark white-and-green paper cups.
“Oh,” I said, startled. “Thank you very much.”
Once we were settled into the back of the car and on our way, Callum pulled out his iPad.
“What kind of real estate are you thinking of buying?” I asked as I sipped my coffee, grateful for the warm liquid. I could feel the vibrator inside of me, and I shifted on the seat, trying to get comfortable. But all that did was cause me to start feeling hot between my legs. I willed myself to stay still.
“You cannot stay in that apartment anymore,” Callum said. “Not after what happened this morning.” He pushed the screen toward me. On it was a Zillow listing for a gorgeous apartment right near the Archway offices. The ceilings were high, the outside light shining through floor-to-ceiling windows and spilling over the wide-planked hardwood floors. The kitchen was filled with sleek granite countertops and a shiny subway tile backsplash. I swiped through the pictures, each one more beautiful than the last.
It was two bedrooms, two bathrooms, with outdoor space and a tiny room for an office. The walls were painted in shades of soft blue and deep chocolate. It was elegant and gorgeous, but it was a girl’s apartment for sure.
Even the furniture – cream-colored sofas and dark oak accent tables piled with sleek fashion magazines – skewed feminine. Callum would never have been interested in living in an apartment like this.
Which meant he was buying it just for me. Well, for me to stay in.
The price tag? 2.6 million dollars.
“It’s beautiful,” I said.
Callum nodded in satisfaction. “We’ll go look at it tomorrow night. I’ll let my agent know.”
“Okay.” I bit my lip. “And I’ll… I mean, I’ll be staying there?”
“You will live there.”
“By myself?”
“When I’m not able to be there, yes.”
“What does that mean, when you’re not able to be there?”
“When I’m away on business. Or when I need to stay at my own apartment.”
He didn’t elaborate on what “when I need to stay at my own apartment” meant, but I had a pretty good idea. It was when he started feeling too close, or when he thought I was getting too attached.
“Adriana,” he said, as I turned to stare out the window. “Look at me.”
I did as he asked.
“You seem upset.”
“I just don’t understand why I can’t just stay with you. You know, at your real apartment. I don’t have to move in with you or anything. I’ll still have my own apartment.”
Callum set the iPad down, then moved closer to me on the seat and took my hand. “I told you. I don’t have women at my apartment.”
“But if you say you want to keep me safe…” I trailed off. “It just doesn’t make sense. Why do you have to spend millions of dollars on another apartment when you have a perfectly good one?”
“It’s just how it is.”
“And what have other women done when you’ve brought up this arrangement? Have they been okay with it?”
“I’ve never bought an apartment for another woman.”
I swallowed, not sure if I was flattered or offended. “They’ve all stayed in that other apartment? The one we were at this morning?”
“Yes.”
My chest squeezed at the thought of the dozens, maybe hundreds, of women who’d been in that apartment, tied to the bed. All of them beautiful, all of them feeling lucky to have Callum.
“Even your girlfriends?”
“I’ve never had a girlfriend.”
I gaped at him. “You’ve never had a girlfriend?”
“I don’t do that,” he said simply, like it was totally normal for a man of his age to have never had a long-term relationship.
We were pulling up around the corner from my office now, and the car rolled to a stop.
“I told you, you shouldn’t get too caught up on things like where we’re living,” Callum said. “It’s just an address, Adriana.”
Not to me, I wanted to say. But it wouldn’t have made a difference. He was determined to see things his way, and besides, I had agreed to his terms. He’d been upfront with me about how things would be, and I’d known exactly what I was getting myself into.
“You’re going to be late,” he said. “We’ll have dinner after work. I’ll pick you up here at seven.”
I nodded before I realized it wasn’t a question but a command.
He leaned over and kissed me goodbye, his freshly shaved skin brushing against my cheeks, the faint scent of his spicy cologne sending shivers down my spine.
“I’ll miss you, baby,” he murmured.
“I’ll miss you, too.”
I got out of the car and began walking down the street and around the corner toward Archway, dodging in between the other morning commuters, all of us in a hurry to get to work.
With every step, the tiny rubber vibrator inside of me rubbed against my clit, making me aware that I was Callum’s, that he owned every part of me.
I thought about last night, what he’d done to me, his hands grabbing at my tits, his balls in my mouth, his chiseled body pushing against mine, his hard cock buried inside my pussy.
My panties started to get wet, and I slowed my pace, trying to calm my heart and my body. I couldn’t arrive at work all worked up. I needed to be calm and composed when I finally told Kiersten about what had happened with that music executive Dean, about how he’d given me his card and told me to call him and set up a meeting.
I stopped a few feet from the entrance to my building, then reached into my purse and pulled out my compact, surveying my reflection in the mirror.
I actually didn’t look too bad.
My hair was neatly pulled back, my makeup was soft and natural, and my cheeks had just enough color to make me look happy, but not like I’d spent the night getting punished and fucked by a man who refused to call himself my boyfriend.
It was still strange, though, knowing the secret I was keeping– that there was this twisted, damaged relationship I was participating in. No one would know to look
at me that I had a curved vibrator inside my pussy, that I had marks on my ass from where I’d been whipped with a belt for wearing a sexy dress, that I’d been denied an orgasm for two hours last night before getting my pussy covered in cum while Callum had said the nastiest, dirtiest thing to me that I could ever imagine.
You like being dirty, don’t you, Adriana? You like being a dirty little slut for me.
I shivered and stared at myself in the mirror. I looked exactly the same and yet somehow, I hardly recognized myself.
“Adriana!” Someone was calling my name from across the street, and I looked up sharply. “Adriana!” the voice called again. It was coming from a few yards away, over by the Peet’s coffee cart that was set up on the sidewalk.
I looked over, peering through the crowd.
Kiersten.
She was standing with another woman, one I didn’t recognize, her hand wrapped around a large coffee, her nails painted blood red.
“Oh!” I said, embarrassed that she’d caught me checking myself out in my mirror. How long had she been standing there watching me?
I rushed over to the coffee cart, almost colliding with a teenage boy eating a breakfast sandwich on the way.
“What are you doing out here?” Kiersten asked when I got there, not unkindly, but not exactly kindly, either. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek low ponytail, her highlights sparkling in the morning sunlight.
“I was just um, fixing my makeup before I went into work.”
“Oh.” She looked me up and down, her eyes sliding over my outfit. I couldn’t tell from her face whether she approved or not. “Do you want a coffee?”
I didn’t want a coffee. I’d sipped the one Callum’s driver had given me on the way here, and then I’d left it in the back of the car. The caffeine was making me too jumpy. But I didn’t want to say no to her, either. Maybe getting a coffee with Kiersten would allow us to bond a little bit, and then I could very gently bring up the thing about Dean giving me his card.
“Uh, sure.” I turned to the barista. “I’ll have a caramel spice latte.” I mouthed “I’m sorry” to the man standing behind Kiersten who I was basically cutting in front of. He gave me a tight smile.
“You remember Aubrey,” Kiersten said, stepping to the side.
Crap.
My stomach dropped.
Aubrey Zane was standing next to Kiersten, a glittery white baseball cap pulled down over her forehead, her long hair pulled back and tucked underneath it. She was wearing a pair of faded jeans that hung low on her tiny waist, a crisp white t-shirt under a cropped camo hoodie, and no makeup. Her face was gorgeous even without makeup, her skin poreless, her lips full, her eyebrows a perfect arch.
She was biting her lip and texting on her phone, and she didn’t even glance up.
Which was fine with me.
Had Callum kissed her?
The thought filled me with acidic jealousy. Aubrey had been with him last night when I’d called. Had they kissed? Had he held her hand? Was he planning on seeing her again? I realized sickly that Callum and I hadn’t worked out the parameters of our relationship, that although I’d basically signed my life away to him, we hadn’t discussed what the rules were for him. Was he allowed to see other people?
“Yes, it’s good to see you again, Aubrey,” I said, even though we hadn’t actually ever officially met. But I had to say something – Kiersten would think it was weird if I didn’t.
Aubrey sort of waved at me, a gesture that was half-acknowledgment, half-dismissal.
“Okay, well, I’ll see you upstairs, Kiersten,” I said, accepting my latte from the barista, ready to rush into the Archway building before Aubrey could recognize me.
But Aubrey looked up then – I wasn’t sure why.
She was disinterested at first, her eyes automatically going back to her phone. But then she did a double take, and her eyes widened.
“I know you,” she said.
“This is Adriana,” Kiersten said, her voice falsely cheerful as she took a sip of her coffee. “She’s one of our publicity assistants. You two should talk about some of the promos we have planned for you.”
“What?” I asked, surprised. Why the hell would Kiersten want me talking to Aubrey about publicity plans? Kiersten didn’t usually want me talk to anyone about anything-- she thought I was incompetent. Besides, the publicity push for Aubrey’s book was pretty much done.
Aubrey had done some morning shows when her book had first come out, and she was scheduled for a few more, along with one of those Good Morning America live outdoor concert things. But as far as I could tell, the publicity push was over.
“Adriana is one of our brightest young assistants,” Kiersten was saying. “I’m sure you two will have a lot to talk about.” And then I got it. Kiersten knew Aubrey’s book was a bomb. She knew it wasn’t doing that well, and so now she was happy to foist Aubrey off onto me.
She would make me meet with Aubrey and then task me with a bunch of busy work that anyone with half a brain could do, like running a facebook giveaway or going down to Aubrey’s good morning America concert and handing out free books to her tween fans.
“No, I know you,” Aubrey said thoughtfully, seemingly not listening to anything Kiersten had just said. “I saw you last night.”
“What?” Kiersten asked. She sounded surprised that I would be anywhere that a famous pop star would be. Not that I blamed her.
“You were at Callum’s last night,” Aubrey said. “You were waiting for him at his apartment.”
“Callum Wilder?” Kiersten asked. Her mouth set into a thin line and her hand tightened around her coffee cup. Her words echoed through my brain. If I find out there’s anything going on between the two of you, you will be fired immediately.
I wanted to deny it, but I was afraid that would just make me look more guilty. It would be Aubrey’s word against mine. Who would Kiersten believe? A quick look at her face told me she would for sure believe Aubrey. Kiersten might have been done with Aubrey as an author, but she’d always had her suspicions about me.
Crap, crap, crap.
My mouth went dry and I licked my bottom lip.
Aubrey’s expression was morphing from disinterested to shocked, her face displaying the kind of dazed disbelief of a girl who was used to getting exactly what she wanted.
“Yes, well,” Kiersten said, straightening her shoulders. “Aubrey, you have somewhere to be, you said?” Her voice was even, but I could hear the tiniest crack breaking through, the smallest chink in her carefully controlled façade.
“Yeah. I have an appointment with my stylist.” As Aubrey spoke, her bright green eyes never left mine. Her look of shock was turning to one of anger. People who were used to getting what they wanted didn’t handle it the well when they didn’t get their way.
From down the street a ways, a limo was waiting, and a harried looking woman, most likely Aubrey’s assistant, popped her head out of the window. “Ms. Zane?” she called. “You’re going to be late.”
“I’m coming, Sheila,” Aubrey said. She was still staring at me, her eyes shooting daggers.
“We’ll see you soon, Aubrey,” Kiersten said.
But Aubrey didn’t answer.
Instead, she slid her gaze from mine and began to walk past me toward her waiting limo.
As she brushed by, she stuck her arm out, elbowing me hard in the ribs. I stepped back, trying to move away from her, but Aubrey pushed into me harder, squeezing her paper coffee cup until the top popped off, dumping an entire twenty-four ounces of French roast all over my carefully chosen outfit.
* * *
“This is unacceptable, Adriana,” Kiersten fumed a few minutes later as we stepped onto the waiting elevator and she pushed button for our floor.
I swallowed nervously and pawed through my bag, searching for a napkin or a tissue. My sweater and blouse were soaked with coffee, and the fabric clung to my skin, hot and sticky. The coffee hadn’t been warm enough to leave a burn, but it
was definitely enough to sting.
“Kiersten, I’m so sorry, it’s not…” I took in a deep breath. I was discombobulated, the thoughts spinning around my head. I had no idea what to do. Lie? Tell the truth? I decided to go with a half-truth, and play up the sympathy angle. “I was going to tell you about this,” I said, hoping my voice sounded calm and confident. “The truth is, see, there’s this man, Jason. He worked at a company that Callum took over.”
Kiersten was staring at me as the elevator soared up the floors. Usually the elevator made at least one stop for someone else to get on, and I was praying that would happen now, that someone would get on and give me at least a few seconds to collect myself.
“He found me last night at a Barnes and Noble,” I continued, realizing that I was beginning to sound like a babbling idiot.
“Callum found you at a Barnes and Noble,” Kiersten repeated incredulously. Her eyes wrinkled around the edges as she frowned at me, and I wondered if perhaps she was older than I’d first thought, or if it was just the fact that she was scolding me that made me think that. Her eyeliner was done in a sharp black, slightly pointed at the ends. It was obviously coordinated to go with the outfit she was wearing, a black flared suit jacket with a matching skirt. But all it did right now was make her look more terrifying than she already was.
“No, Jason found me at Barnes and Noble. See, he wanted Callum’s number because – ”
“Save it,” Kiersten snarled, holding her hand up. “Just save it.”
The doors opened onto our floor, but Kiersten made no move to get off.
Instead, she just stood there in the elevator.
I wasn’t sure what to do, so I just stood there too, not saying anything. My blouse was still stuck to my skin from where Aubrey had dumped her coffee on me, and I resisted the urge to pull on it.
The elevator doors closed again, but the elevator stayed in place.
“It’s over for you,” Kiersten said quietly.
“What? Kiersten – ”
“No.” She shook her head. “No, I told you from the beginning that if you had anything to do with Callum Wilder, you would be fired immediately. Now you’ve put me in a horrible position, because obviously I can’t fire you. Callum’s book is too important to us, so I’m stuck with you. But you’ve made an enemy in me, Adriana. And that is not something you want to do.”