Masters for Hire

by Ginger Voight

He kissed me again, but this time it was cut short by the pounding on the door. Clearly Simon heard the commotion and had come to check up on me. Oliver stood, straightened his clothes and his hair, and stalked away from the desk. “Fix your dress,” he snarled. “You are a goddamned lady.”

  My hands shook as I did as he said, smoothing my hair and my dress before I attempted to pick up the mess around my desk. Finally Oliver unlocked the door, swinging it upon to find Devlin. He glanced behind Oliver to me.

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  “A vase of flowers fell,” Oliver told him, smooth as silk. “Must have been because there was so many.” He extended his hand. “Congratulations, by the way. I’m Oliver Lavoie.”

  Devlin stared at his hand for a long moment before he finally brushed past him to walk over to my desk. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded, though my hands still shook as I straightened what I could. Devlin looked back at Oliver, who smiled at both of us before he turned on his heel and left.

  “What’s going on, Coralie?”

  I shook my head. I knew that if I told Devlin what had happened, he’d have (rightly) throttled Oliver on the spot. It was another complication we didn’t need. It didn’t matter what Oliver said, or even did. He was mad, that was all. And he’d get over it, just like Father.

  Until then, I knew I had to keep the peace. Like always.

  I could make this marriage to Devlin work; it would just take a little finesse. I could hide his past and get him work with the store. I could smooth over things with Father, who would come to see that my marrying Devlin wasn’t the end of the world. And I could stay out of Oliver’s way while he reconciled himself with the idea that he wasn’t going to marry the boss’s daughter like he planned.

  Hell, I could probably even set him up with someone new. Someone better suited for him.

  But his kiss still burned my mouth. It was almost ironic to me that had he done that from the start, I would have never hired Devlin in the first place. I just wanted to be wanted, but he had never seen fit to show me that he was capable of that. Instead, he took it for granted that I’d come running whenever he snapped his little finger.

  It would do him good to see that approach wouldn’t work for long.

  Devlin studied me from where he stood. “Did he touch you, Coralie?” he asked.

  “What?” I said as my eyes shot to his. “What makes you think that?”

  He grabbed my face in his hands, studying my swollen mouth. “You tell me.”

  I slapped his hand away, averting my eyes. “It doesn’t matter what he does or doesn’t do. I’m married to you. And that’s all that counts.”

  “You’re damned right it is,” he told me. “Because if he even thinks about putting his hands on you…,” he started, but couldn’t even finish the threat. That scared me more. “Get your purse. We’re going to lunch.”

  I nodded, too overwhelmed to argue. All of this had been a little much. I was exhausted. I was stressed out. I just needed a little break from the crazy, but apparently it was not to be. Devlin wrapped his arm around me and guided me out of my office, passing Oliver in the hall. “Where are you going now?” Oliver called.

  “She’s taking an early day,” Devlin informed him coldly. “It’s still our honeymoon.” He crashed his lips on mine, to obliterate every single memory of any other kiss before it. Oliver glared after us as we disappeared down the hall.

  Devlin practically threw me in the car and broke a handful of traffic laws to get to his downtown apartment, where he tugged me by the arm until he could close the rest of the world behind us. “Devlin,” I started, but he wasn’t having any of that.

  “Shut up,” he growled under his breath as he pulled me to the bedroom, where he lifted me up and tossed me on the bed. He tore off his shirt before he landed on top of me, with another ferocious kiss. When it broke, he grabbed my hands and raised them above my head, clasping them tight with one large hand as he held me prone so he could look me in the eye.

  “You’re never going to lie to me again, Coralie,” he said.

  “I didn’t–”

  “Shut up,” he repeated, only this time deathly quiet. “I am your husband. And you are my wife. And you’re never going to lie to me again. Do you understand?”

  I nodded, too intimidated to speak.

  “I waited my whole life for you, and I’m not going to lose you because some rich, entitled asshole decides he now wants to stake a claim. He can’t have you,” he informed me in an angry whisper. “You’re mine.”

  I licked my suddenly chapped lips.

  “Oh, don’t do that,” he warned, and I felt him stir against me. “We still have a few things to settle first. We’re going to set a few things straight. There are new rules now, because there have to be. You see, I have to put up with their bullshit, and their insults, and their thinking they’re better than me, because that’s the price of being with you. And I’ll swallow it all, because I am trying to make it easier for you, so you can keep your job and your family and your perfectly privileged life. I’m the only one on your side in this. Do you get that?”

  I nodded again.

  “But I’m the dog shit on their shoes. They’re going to do anything and everything to break us apart, including Mr. Wonderful back there manhandling you because he thinks that’s what you want. He knows you got fucked hard by a real man, and he’s trying to step up to the plate. But the game is over, and I won.”

  “You did–” I tried to agree, but he wasn’t done.

  “I told you to shut up,” he repeated in a low, firm voice that invited no argument. “I don’t want to hear lies. I don’t want to hear excuses. I know what happened back there. And the only thing I want to hear from you is the truth. I’m going to ask you again. Did he touch you, Coralie?”

  I gulped hard as I stared into those stormy eyes. “Yes,” I finally answered. “He kissed me. I didn’t kiss him back,” I asserted quickly, but he cut me off.

  “I know you didn’t. And I know why you didn’t want to tell me the truth. You’re afraid I’ll go beat the shit out of him.”

  “You said you would,” I said in a tiny voice.

  “That’s right, because no one touches you but me. I told you that in Vegas, remember?”

  My eyes fluttered closed as I remembered that night. I nodded. “It doesn’t matter what he does, Devlin. I love you.”

  His voice softened. “I know that, too. And that’s why I will fight for you, Coralie. Even if I have to fight you to do it. Do you understand?”

  I nodded and he finally bent for a soft kiss. My insides ignited like a rocket. He released my hands at last, allowing his hand to trail down my arms to cup my face. His thumb brushed against my lips. “My mouth,” he claimed softly. “Say it.”

  “Your mouth,” I whispered. His hand slid lower, to cup my full breast.

  “My breast,” he murmured, before kissing his way across my chest. “Say it,” he whispered.

  “Your breast,” I responded, and gasped when he released that breast for his hungry mouth.

  Finally his hand disappeared between our bodies, tugging free the skirt I had worn to work that morning. His fingers shoved aside my panties. I gasped as he spread me apart and targeted my clit with one skilled finger. “Say it,” he said.

  I gulped hard as his fingers danced against me. “Yours,” I whispered, barely even a squeak.

  “What’s mine? Say it,” he demanded a little louder.

  I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come out.

  “You know you want to say it,” he said, his fingers moving against me until a gasp escaped my parted lips. “It was what you were searching for before you met me. I could hear it in your voice the very first time I spoke to you on the phone. I heard the hunger. I heard the frustration. I knew in an instant that you needed to find the naughty bad boy who could take you to your rawest form. Someone who could set you free.”

  My head tilted back as my body respond
ed to him. He was absolutely right in everything he said. This was what I had wanted. I didn’t want to do boring anymore. I wanted to be swept off of my feet and taken in hand. And now, here he was, doing exactly that.

  “I’m not your little fancy fuck-boy anymore, the one you can shelve at your convenience as easily as you can whistle for me to come running. There are new rules now, baby. I’m your husband. You belong to me,” he whispered as he slipped two fingers inside. I cried out at once. “In this bed, in my arms, you will become everything you ever dreamed you could be. I can teach you everything you’ve ever wanted to learn. But you have to be ready to submit, Coralie. You have to be willing to obey. You follow and trust me to I lead. You do that, and I will be your slave. For life.” He teased me right to the brink of another mind-blowing orgasm. I whimpered, practically in tears, silently begging for release. “I’m going to ask you again, and this time you’re going to answer me. What’s mine, Coralie?”

  I couldn’t fight it anymore. I didn’t even want to. “Your pussy,” I finally said, though softer and more reticent.

  He fingered me furiously until I bucked against his hand. “Say it,” he commanded.

  “Your pussy,” I cried before I came so hard I nearly blacked out.

  “That’s right,” he murmured against my ear as he nuzzled my neck. “I’m the only one who gets to touch you, to taste you, to fuck you. Say it.”

  “You’re the only one,” I gasped, my throat dry, my brain fuzzy.

  “And what do you want me to do to you, Coralie?”

  I couldn’t even think straight. My entire body was on fire for him. “I want you to fuck me.”

  “Why?” he asked in a hot whisper against my ear.

  “Because I’m yours,” I answered dutifully.

  “Say it again,” he instructed.

  “I’m yours!”

  He positioned himself between my legs. “I’m going to fuck you now, Coralie. I’m going to take you, because you’re my wife, and you belong only to me. But let me make this perfectly clear. From this day on, if anyone, anywhere, puts his hands on you and you don’t tell me, I’m going to see that as the ultimate betrayal. Do you understand?”

  I nodded. He rubbed himself against me, making me crazy like only he could. He had memorized my body for a week solid, and he knew just how to make it sing. I was powerless against him.

  “Do you accept these terms, Coralie?”

  “Yes,” I finally breathed, and with one confident thrust, he claimed me at last.

  “This is our marriage vow,” he told me as he began to stroke. “The only one that counts. I’m yours, and you’re mine. We’re all we’ve got, Coralie. Tell me you know that.”

  I nodded again. I would tell him anything he wanted to hear. I would give him my last breath if necessary. I belonged to him, heart, mind, body and soul.

  “Tell me you love me,” he begged against my ear.

  “I love you,” I said, and I meant it, one hundred percent. I clutched him tighter into my body, which made him shudder against me.

  “God, I love you,” he murmured before he crushed his mouth upon mine. “Every breath. Every heartbeat. It’s all for you. I can’t lose you. I won’t,” he moaned, his eyes closed, as he pummeled inside of me like he was running from the devil himself.

  That was when it dawned on me. He was afraid to lose me. For the first time in my life, someone was afraid to lose me. Someone needed me. Someone wanted me. Someone was willing to fight anyone and everyone to have me.

  It was every dream I ever had realized.

  “You’ll never lose me,” I promised as I held on for dear life. He needed me, and I would never let him down. “I’m yours. Always.”

  “God, baby,” he moaned as he buried his face in my neck. “Coralie,” he panted before he lost control with a primal yell. He held himself inside of me until the last shudder past, and then collapsed against me.

  We didn’t speak for long moments afterwards. What more could be said?

  But as night fell, and I cuddled up to this man I barely knew, in this strange new place, so far away from everything I was and everything I knew, I wondered again just what the hell had happened to me. I was no stranger to chaos, but this? It was an entirely new ballgame. It only took two weeks, but Devlin Masters had turned my whole world upside down. And I had let him, because he had an unbreakable hold on me, one that started with the very first night we met.

  Two weeks ago…

  Two weeks.

  In just two weeks we had experienced every nuance of a new relationship, complete with a breakup and an indiscretion thrown in for good measure. I had no idea where to go from here, or what to expect, especially if this afternoon was any indication.

  I didn’t really know what I could expect from him because I didn’t really know him, aside from the fantasy he tailor-made for me like every other client before. That had been his job, and he had done it well.

  That meant that each and every day that followed promised to be one more layer to pull back, to see what life with Devlin would throw at me next, and I had no idea what was coming anymore.

  I only knew one thing:

  I loved Devlin Masters more than I ever thought I could love anyone, so I was locked in for the ride. And it wasn’t just because we were married. It was because I couldn’t picture even one day of my life without him. I’d rather have a screaming argument with Devlin than a nice dinner with Oliver. I wanted the chaos. I wanted the adventure. I wanted the uncertainty and the passion and the intensity of living life on his ledge.

  It still made no sense, and I wondered if I had lost what was left of my mind. But I knew as sure as I drew my next breath that I was going to hang on to this man and this marriage as hard as I could, no matter what anyone had to say about it.

  Devlin Masters was mine now, every bit as much as I was his. And I was going to fight for him, even if that meant that I had to fight him to do it.

  #ItWasOnlytheBeginning…

  END OF BOOK ONE

  They were two completely different people from two completely different worlds. Within two weeks they were married, for better or worse.

  Their whirlwind romance did nothing to prepare Devlin and Coralie Masters for what awaited them back at home. Powerful forces outside of their marriage work nonstop to tear them asunder. There is much more to fear than her family learning the truth of how and why they met.

  Ultimately his powerful seductive hold over her cannot protect her from these troubling new developments. One thing becomes crystal clear. They may be married, but they’re still strangers.

  They love each other. They want each other. They can’t stay away from each other.

  But will it be enough?

  Hold onto your seats, folks. It’s about to get complicated.

  The Groupie Saga titillated you. The Fullerton Family Saga broke your heart. Now, Book Two of the Masters Saga, MASTERS FOR LIFE, turns up all the Ginger Voight angst, drama and sex you’ve grown to love all the way up to eleven. And it’s COMING SOON!

  Intended for readers 18+ for graphic sexual content.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

  Ginger Voight is a screenwriter and bestselling author with more than twenty published titles in fiction and nonfiction. Her nonfiction works cover everything from travel to politics, while her works of fiction range from romance to the paranormal, as well as dark “ripped-from-the-headlines” topics, such as those featured in her book Dirty Little Secrets.

  Ginger discovered her love for writing in the sixth grade, courtesy of a Halloween assignment. From then on, writing became a thing of solace, reflection, and security. When she found herself homeless in L.A. at the age of nineteen, she wrote her first novel in longhand on notebook paper while living out of her car.

  In 1995, after she lost her nine-day-old son, she worked through her grief by writing the story that would eventually become The Fullerton Family Saga. In 2011, she embarked on a new journey: to publish romance novels starring
heroines who look like the average American woman. These “Rubenesque romances” have developed a following thanks to her bestselling Groupie series. Other titles, such as the highly-rated Fierce series, tap into the American preoccupation with reality TV, giving her contemporary stories a current, pop-culture edge.

  Ginger isn’t afraid to push the envelope with characters who are perfectly imperfect. Rich or poor, sweet or selfish, gay or straight, plus-size or svelte, her characters are beautifully flawed and three-dimensional. They populate her lavish fictional landscapes and teach us more about the real world in which we live, through their interactions with each other, and often through gut-wrenching angst. Ginger’s goal with every book is to give her readers a little bit more than they were expecting, with stories they’ll never forget.

  For more, please visit gingervoight.com. Follow Ginger on Twitter (twitter.com/gingervoight) and “like” her author page on Facebook (facebook.com/gingervoight) for all the latest news on her public appearances and new releases.