“You didn’t need to tell me anything because it’s not like you would listen to me anyway. I’m not down for what you want in a relationship.” She shook her head, making her perfectly coifed hair flip back and forth in front of her face.
Her assessment of him felt like a stab in his heart. Jace liked to think when he had performed as a Dom that he had been one who did listen to his submissives and slaves. He understood that the relationship had to be a two-way street, even if he had been the one to direct the traffic.
Billy Bob waddled out to the lobby area. This time he sidled up to Michelle. When he wrapped his arm around her waist, the pieces fell into place. First Eagan had been a no-show, and now Michelle dated a troll man without a name. At every turn, Jace felt like a loser despite being recognized for his achievement in his industry.
“I see you met the love of my life.” Billy Bob squeezed her in close to him. “Michelle, this is—”
Jace cut the man off. “We know each other.” He waited to see if Michelle would fill in the blanks about their six-month union nearly a year ago.
“Titus said that after the ceremony tonight, he wanted to talk with some other builders.”
Titus. Damn, Jace had been way off in his guess.
“He’s planning on expanding.” Michelle turned to him and smiled, a first since she’d come into the hotel. “He’s going to be huge.”
“And I have this accounting genius by my side to thank.” Titus kissed her cheek. “She gave me the strength to be all I could be.”
Jace couldn’t decide which hurt him more, hearing about Titus’s plan to expand a business similar to Jace’s or the fact that his former flame found happiness with someone else, someone who apparently appreciated her more than he had.
Jace peered over at the doorway to the ballroom. The organizer waved her hand to usher them back into the room.
“Looks like it’s show time.” Titus patted Jace on his shoulder. “See you in there.”
Michelle looked away from Jace as she walked arm-in-arm with her new man. Jace strolled by them at a faster pace to get to the person running the show.
“You’re not announcing the winner now, right? Are you all serving dinner first?” Jace pointed into the room.
The slender, older woman blinked. “Um, yes. Dinner will be served. Then we’ll announce this year’s winner.”
“Great. I need five minutes.” He didn’t wait for her to respond. Jace darted off down a side hall, careless of where it led. He needed some space after encountering his past and coming to terms with his future.
****
Twenty-two year olds like Taren Kerrigan didn’t want to spend Friday nights out with their parents. Her father made her feel obligated to come to this industry event under the guise that he could pick up new business and Taren could possibly meet someone—a man her parents would like, someone like her father. Taren felt stuck between her helicopter duo, who made sure to always keep a hand on her.
Consuella and Del Kerrigan flanked both sides of Taren as they sat at a table with a group of Del’s employees from his insurance company, no one Taren knew. Not that it mattered. Her parents kept their full attention on her.
“What am I doing here?” Taren didn’t bother lowering her voice or whispering. Since she sat between her parents, she had to project for both of them to hear her.
“I told you. Homeowners need insurance companies. I want these builders to refer to us with their buyers.” Del straightened his tie.
Taren’s father had always been a stable influence in her life, her rock, and always overprotective. At her age, Taren didn’t need or want his protection. She wanted freedom. She yearned to live.
“Fine for you and Mom.” Taren pointed to Connie. “I don’t need to be here. You’re not accepting an award. Some guy I don’t know is. I shouldn’t be here.” She shook her head.
“I know what you mean.” A young, white, thin man, who sat across from her, winked.
Taren pretended to gag. She didn’t need someone else acting empathetic to her plight.
The man blinked and looked down at the table.
“You’re being rude.” Connie patted Taren on her arm and nearly hissed in Taren’s ear.
“No.” Taren pushed back from her. “I’m being real. I’m not needed here.”
A waiter came to their table with a huge platter full of plates of food. He placed a plate down for each guest. Taren peered down at the rubbery chicken covered in a light-colored sauce with sallow corn and anemic pieces of carrots next to it.
Connie turned to the waiter. “The lights in here won’t be turned back up too quickly, will they?”
“Mom, please stop.” Taren held her mother’s wrist.
“Stop what? Stop caring? I can’t do that.” She shook her head.
Connie had cut her hair short in the back of her head and left the rest of her dark brown hair with crisp curls made by a curling iron. Her blood red lipstick gave her lips a deceptively sinister appearance. As always, her stylish mother made Del match his outfit to hers. Or maybe they made that decision together, that she would rock a red lace dress while he sported a black suit with a red shirt and black-and-red tie.
Together, the three of them looked like the picture-perfect African-American family. If someone took their picture right now, Taren wouldn’t have been smiling.
Taren leaned over closer to her mother. “Mom, after this, the three of us need to talk.”
“It might be late. You really need to get your sleep.” Connie picked up her fork and knife and started cutting into her chicken. “We can talk in the morning.”
“No, it has to be tonight.” Taren shouldn’t have waited so long to break the news. Every time she’d tried bringing it up, her parents found ways to shut down her request.
“Why don’t you eat your dinner? It’s going to get cold.” Without taking a break, Connie reached over to Taren’s plate with her fork and knife, and began cutting Taren’s food up for her.
The young man across the table who had spoken to her before gave her a look of pity. No way would Taren take that from some guy she didn’t know. She grabbed her mother’s wrists and moved them off her plate.
“Mom, stop.” She released Connie and had to take several deep breaths before continuing.
“I was only trying to help. You need to know that it’s okay to ask for help.” Connie placed her utensils down on her plate.
“How are my two firecrackers doing over there?” Del nudged his elbow against Taren’s arm.
Because Taren and her mother had the same short stature, her father liked calling them his firecrackers. As a kid, Taren didn’t mind. As an adult, she had to start speaking up for herself.
She looked at her father first. “I’m moving out of your house.” Then she turned to Connie. “The moving truck will be by tomorrow.” Then she volleyed her gaze from Del to Connie, waiting for a reaction.
“No, you can’t move.” Connie picked up her utensils again and started cutting up her already macerated meal.
“I am moving. I’ve put in a deposit for the apartment. I’ve put in my change of address. I’ve even started moving things over there on my own.” Taren placed her hand on her mother’s arm and felt her flinch at the connection. “I need to go out on my own and do things. I’ll be fine.”
Connie remained quiet.
Taren turned to Del. “Dad?”
He stared at her for a moment. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
No one listened to her. Her parents acted like Taren hadn’t said anything, or that the news she dropped didn’t mean anything. She had imagined what it would be like for someone to make all the decisions for her. In her mind, it would be sexier than this.
She recalled one of her favorite TV shows, Love My Way. A BDSM dominant looking for a submissive on a reality TV show. The Dom, Eagan Morton, seemed so masterful yet sexy. He told each of the contestants what to do, what he wanted. In that scenario, the feeling of being told what
to do seemed different than what she’d had with her parents. Maybe because the contestants had wanted that life. They’d had a choice.
After Taren graduated from college, she felt like she reverted back to her childhood days. She’d moved back into her old bedroom with her original twin bed. Her parents took care of her and her needs. They kept her preserved like a rare doll. The thought that her concerns had been dismissed so easily boiled her blood. Her heart thumped a hard rhythm. If she didn’t get herself cooled down, she would lose it.
Taren moved her chair back. “I need some air.”
“Let me go with you.” Connie started to get up from her seat.
“No. Please. I’ll be fine.” Taren never thought her fun-loving parents would be so overbearing. “Enjoy your dinner.”
Taren strolled briskly down a hallway in the fancy Cavalier Hotel. If nothing else, she could always say that she had been to the lavish Virginia Beach hotel. She wanted to do it, though, under better circumstances.
Her high, black-and-white strappy heels didn’t allow her to run as fast as she wanted, but she moved quick enough to be able to whisk by guests milling about in the lobby. At the end of a hallway, she pushed on a set of double doors to a patio.
She ended up in a place that seemed to come straight from a dream or a fantasy. Lit candles in glass vases and candlelit lanterns lined the brick patio flooring. Chaise lounges with white seating cushions lined the sides to leave room to walk down the center. Soft piano music, piped in through speakers, wafted through the still night air.
Taren sat in one of the lounges and closed her eyes. If she listened beyond the music and concentrated hard enough, she heard the ocean waves a block away crashing on the beach. At least she forced her mind to hear that, to imagine her life on the beach.
She opened her eyes and stared into the darkened garden where she caught something she hadn’t noticed before. A man stood toward the garden area with his fists on his hips.
From behind, he looked impressive. A tall white man with a head full of his own dirty blond hair and big feet would capture any woman’s attention. She couldn’t wait for him to turn around.
She noticed a white stick in between his fingers. “Lots of candles around here.”
The stranger turned around and the air escaped her body. Even in darkness he looked incredibly enticing. Shadows highlighted his sleek nose, strong jaw line, and full lips.
At first she thought he may have worked at the hotel as a front desk clerk or concierge or manager. The way he wore the suit, no way could this man be told what to do by someone else.
He moved slowly toward her, stalking her.
“Um, you can use one of the candles to light your cigarette.” She hated the habit, but felt the need to be accommodating.
The man looked down at the slender addiction between his long fingers. “I bummed this from some waiter out here, but I wasn’t going to smoke it.” He crushed it in his hand. “Old habits die hard.”
Taren’s clit throbbed as soon as she heard his deep voice. That reaction alone made her sit up and take notice of this man. As soon as he moved in closer, she noticed his light blue eyes.
Her heart pounded, and all at once, she felt like a schoolgirl again experiencing her first crush. No way could she feel this way over a stranger. She would blame this reaction on lack of food. Her dinner waited for her in the ballroom along with her parents’ overprotective nature.
“Know what you mean.” Taren thought about her parents and their need to be so overbearing.
“You look nice.” He scanned her from her head down to her toes.
She thanked the Lord that she’d had a pedicure. Taren swept her hand over her hair that she had styled in an up ’do.
“Here for a wedding or something?” He looked at the hotel. “This place is known for that.”
“No, here with my parents.” She winced as soon as the words left her mouth. “My dad owns an insurance company. We’re here for some builders event.”
“But you have no interest in that.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Not really. I don’t know the person being honored. I don’t even know his name or the name of his business. I’m here to enjoy rubbery chicken.” She lowered her head and voice. “And be treated like a child.”
“What was that?” He moved closer to her.
“Never mind. Are you here for a wedding?” She smiled. “Are you the groom?”
He shook his head. “Not really marrying material. What about you?”
Taren shrugged. “If it were up to my parents, I would be married off to the goober at our table because he looks safe and reliable, which means he’s boring.”
“Boring might be good for you.”
Taren tilted her head at this stranger’s assessment of her.
He continued. “You’re young.”
“And?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“You don’t know what you want yet. Sometimes it takes someone who’s been there to help guide you.”
Taren bolted to her feet. “The best decision you made tonight had to be that you didn’t smoke that cigarette. Other than that, you are dead wrong about me.” She started to leave.
“So you didn’t want me smoking?” he asked from behind her.
Despite her better judgment, she stopped and acknowledged him. “It really doesn’t matter what I want. If you wanted to smoke, I was being polite and letting you know how you can accomplish that. But I think it’s a disgusting habit. It ruins your teeth, your lungs, and your skin. You stink and you make everything around you smell.”
“Had I lit my cigarette, would you have stayed or gone back into the hotel and rejoined your party?” He took another step closer to her.
At his close proximity, she caught his intoxicating scent that reminded her of the outdoors, like honeysuckle and fresh-cut grass. “If you had smoked, I probably would have moved to another spot out here or gone back inside.”
“What if I wanted you to stay?” He inched in closer. “You know. For conversation. Would you?”
Taren returned his direct stare with one of her own. She wanted him to see that she wouldn’t be bossed around, at least not by him. She’d had fantasies about being a submissive for a strong dominant man. No matter how fine she found this man, he had another thing coming if he thought he could rule her.
“No, I wouldn’t.” She hoped she sounded convincing.
He looked like he struggled to not smile. “Interesting.” He sauntered to her. “You have a mind of your own, but you’re accommodating. You stand strong in your convictions, but can be yielding.”
Taren remained in her spot, but her knees knocked together so hard she felt her body shaking.
“You would make a good—” He glanced up at the doorway going into the hotel. “Have to go. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” He continued to the hotel. On his way, he tossed the crushed cigarette into a nearby trash bin.
With him inside, Taren exhaled and braced her hands on her knees. It felt like she had been in a boxing match with this man for twelve rounds. She ran her hand over her hair and down her black sheath dress before going back into the hotel. Taren made it to the ballroom in time to see a picture of her sparring partner on the screen behind the podium.
Had she known she’d been in the presence of one of the nominees, she would have not argued with him. Who was she kidding? Taren loved to prove a point to a fault. Sometimes that trait frustrated her parents. Taren couldn’t help it.
Taren didn’t even go to her parents’ table. She moved off to the side to see who would win.
A pale woman with jet-black hair in a bob stood at the podium holding an envelope with a gold seal to close the flap. “Now I understand why celebrities get so nervous opening these things.” She waved the envelope in the air.
A ripple of laughter filled the conference room. Taren didn’t find the statement amusing. Looking at the way her mystery man kept his face hard, he didn’t appear amused ei
ther.
“And the award goes to…” She opened the flap and pulled out a red card. “Titus Breckenridge!”
Taren looked at the man she’d shared a passionate exchange with only moments before. He remained seated. He didn’t even clap for the winner. She would have taken the lack of response as him being a sore loser. A strong, capable looking man like that didn’t seem like he lost a lot of things.
A rotund man waddled up to the podium to accept the award. He shook the woman’s hand first before making his speech. “Good evening. I’m thrilled and humbled to be named Builder of the Year by the Hampton Roads Builder Association.”
A rousing applause filled the expansive ballroom. Taren kept her arms down by her sides. She couldn’t believe that one of the nominees had been the same man who’d made her knees knock together. He hadn’t said anything when she’d voiced her displeasure about attending the ceremony. He’d listened to her.
Come on, girl. He wasn’t taking you seriously.
Taren shook her head and continued listening to Titus’s speech.
“I want to start by thanking my family for providing me the stable foundation to create my incredible business.” He paused before continuing. “My mother has always believed in me.”
Taren watched the award loser glance at the older woman next to him like he wanted to spout those same words to her had he won.
“But I must admit. I’m luckier than most.” He chuckled. “It helps to have a father who is also in the business and helped paved my way to the top, both emotionally and financially.” He stared at an attractive African-American woman sitting in the crowd. “And now I have a woman who is by my side and is my rock in every way.”
Taren glanced at her courtyard mate. He dropped his gaze to the table before he bolted to his feet and headed to the back of the room.
Taren took that as her cue to leave. She knew her night had ended poorly when she wanted to root for a man who had tried to define her within five minutes of meeting her.
She darted to the table to get her purse.
“You’re just in time for the speech,” Connie said as she pulled out Taren’s chair.
Slave To Love Page 2