“We’re free,” he said. “Now, let’s disappear.”
He kissed her as she led him from the courtroom. She saw Brian Dedalus in front of them. He turned as they reached the stairs.
To Padme’s horror, at the last moment, she saw the gun in Brian’s hand. He leveled it at Enver, and it all happened in a second. Padme threw herself in front of Enver, pushing him down as Brian fired the gun and she felt hot metal slam into her belly.
“Fucking bitch!” Daedalus’ shirt exploded with red as the other agents took him down, but he managed to get off another shot, this time aiming for Padme deliberately. The bullet ripped into her stomach. Adrenaline flooded her body, and she was more concerned with Enver than herself.
He was underneath her as Padme flipped over to check Enver wasn’t shot. There was so much blood. “Are you hit? Are you hit?” She was frantic now, her hands roaming his body searching for wounds. Enver’s eyes were huge, full of pain. He shook his head.
“No, baby, it’s not my blood. It’s not my blood. Oh God, Padme … someone help her, please. He shot her …” He was screaming now as Padme realized that her whole body was on fire and that the blood soaking them both was her own.
Someone pushed her aside and grabbed Enver, yanking him up as he screamed for someone to help her. Padme lay on her back, barely able to breathe as she watched Enver, still shouting with his eyes fixed on her, reaching out his arms toward her as he was being dragged away by his protection.
“I love you,” she whispered as the darkness flooded her vision …
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The Dom’s Demons “A Submissives’ Secrets Extra”
By Michelle Love
She says she loves me, but I know love doesn’t exist …
Isabel is trying to take my heart. Well, I’m not about to give it up to her or anyone.
No matter how much I crave her gorgeous body and the way it succumbs to mine every time we’re together.
My blood runs rampant with darkness.
If she doesn’t stop trying to take my heart, Isabel will feel the fire of the demons that reside within me.
No, Isabel will never win my love. I can’t let her. I can’t let her hurt herself by loving me.
Lust compels me to have her luscious body, though—bend her to my will.
Isabel should run, but she stays instead, tempting me with love and her ever-yielding body.
Will the demons win? Will I hurt her beyond repair? Only God knows.
Grant
My hand slides over her round ass. It’s creamy, smooth, and it should be getting my dick hard by now, but it’s not. I thought picking a random woman off the floor of The Dungeon of Decorum would help me get Isabel off my mind, but it’s not working.
Ignoring my limp dick, I push the girl, whose name I don’t know and don’t want to know, down on the hard, wooden surface of the spanking bench. Trying to get out of my own head, I ask, “Have you been a bad girl?”
She laughs sexily. “Very bad. I think you might need to spank my bad ass.”
“So you came here for punishment, did you?” I put my hand on her back to hold her still as I pick up the belt off the table of torture devices and slap it against my thigh.
“Yes, master.” Her words ignite a fire inside me, in a bad way.
“I am not your master. I am merely the man who will dole out the punishment you want. Do you understand me?” I smack her ass, and a bright red mark appears on her right cheek as she lets out a shriek.
I did it much too hard. I’ll have to rein that in a bit. Pure anger is flowing through me, like a hot wind that threatens to take me over.
“You’re not my master. Yeah, I get it. Ow!” She looks over her shoulder at me, her long, black braid falling across her other shoulder. “You take this shit pretty damn seriously, don’t you?”
“You want to leave?” I take a step back and hold my arm out in a gesture to the door. “Be my guest. You asked me to come here. I didn’t ask you. Do you want to see the real side of BDSM or the candy-ass version? Because, with me, you get the mother-fucking real deal. Do you understand that?”
She’s perfectly still for a moment, staring a hole in me. “I’m new to this.”
“Then you should get yourself a man who is also new to this, shouldn’t you? You vanilla little twat.” I suck in my breath, unsure of why I just called her such an ugly thing. “Go. You should go now.”
She takes my warning and hauls ass out of the room. I fall onto a chair that’s meant to restrain a submissive and bury my face in my hands.
Why did I do that?
Why did I lose control?
Is Isabel worth me losing my mind over? And why do I feel this way?
I know what’s best for us. I know I’m not the man she thinks I can be. So why can’t I do it? Why can’t I go back to being me?
I need a drink, and fast. And some manly talk, too. Fuck, I need something and I need it now.
Putting my shirt back on and pulling on the tuxedo jacket too, I push my hand through my hair to fix it a bit, then walk out of the private room, alone.
The hallway where the private rooms are located is dark with intermittent red and green lights above each door. The sounds near the doors with the red lights tell me the occupants are all getting what they came here for.
Moans, groans, and the snaps of various whips and chains make my heart pump that much harder.
Damn, how badly I want to join in. What dreams I had about the first night and all the debauchery I would take part in. But Isabel and her damn want for something real with me has ruined it all.
I head straight to the bar when I get out of the hallway and stop dead in my tracks as I see her sitting at it, a man talking to her much too closely.
What the fuck is she doing?
“Isabel!” I shout across the room, like a mad man.
I move with great speed across the rest of the room and find my hand on the shoulder of the man who dares to get that close to the woman I’ve just been intimate with in front of them all.
All I can do is look at her as the man quickly leaves us alone. I don’t have to say a thing to him. “Really, Mr. J., was that necessary?” Isabel rolls her eyes, which are still covered with the mask she’s worn since the night began.
She reaches for her drink, a cranberry cocktail from the looks of it, but I catch her by the wrist, pulling her up and making her come with me. “You and I have to set some ground rules it seems.”
“Didn’t I just see you walk out of the hallway where the private rooms are?” I stop and turn to look at her, finding a frown on her pretty lips.
“Never mind about me.” I turn and tug her hand, taking her to my private sky box. It overlooks the whole ground floor—a bird’s eye view of the festivities.
Once I have her inside, I turn to her, pressing her body between mine and the door.
“Grant, don’t.”
“Do not tell me what to do.” Breathing her in, I find the animal in me going insane.
Is this jealousy?
It seems far more than mere jealousy. But it’s real, and I really hate it.
Purposely, I take a step back and turn away from her. My shoulders slump as I put my head in my hands. I’m overwhelmed by the flood of adrenaline that’s coursing through me.
Her hand is on my shoulder, soft and comforting. “Grant, things don’t have to be this way.”
Her words only make me angrier. “Look.” I spin around and grab her by her arms, stopping her from touching me. Her touch does something to me, and I can’t take it. “You have no idea the demons that reside in me. You have no clue. No one does. And that’s the way I want it. No, that’s the way I demand it to be.”
“Do you want me to resign? Is that it?” She steps around to get in front of me as she peers into my face.
“You can’t resign. The five-year contract
holds you to this place. But I don’t want you out mingling. Can you understand that? I can’t see men hitting on you. I can’t do it. You’ll have to stay in your office. At least when I’m here.”
She looks at me with vacant eyes. “I understand you, Grant. I do. But you should understand that I care about you, and I think you need to see someone about all this anger and the demons you’ve just told me about. That’s not healthy for you.”
“There’s no reason to see anyone about what I have going on in my head. It’s normal what I’m dealing with. Well, normal in my DNA, anyway.” I bite my lip, not wanting to talk about it anymore. “Now, go to your office. Do as I say and things should be all right.”
Her lower lip is quivering as she turns to walk away from me. “I’m so sorry for you, Grant Jamison. I truly am. And I will always have a spot in my heart for you. I am here anytime you need me or want to talk.” She stops just before opening the door.
I turn to watch her go, and we catch eyes. “I am sorry, Isabel.”
Her lips quirk up to one side. “Yeah, I know. And you should know this—I love you, Grant Jamison. I think I fell in love with you right from the start.” Then she just leaves me.
As I’m standing in the middle of the plush room I made for myself at the top of the dungeon I created, she just leaves me with those words echoing in my head.
She loves me …
How can anyone love a person who has done the things to her that I have done?
It makes no sense to me at all. I have never tried to get her to love me. I’ve been honest with her at all times. So how the fuck did this happen?
Stumbling to the thickly-cushioned, red-leather chair, I take a seat and look out the tinted window that allows me to look down on my members.
Masks and fancy clothes cover the people down there. People who have come here for various reasons. People who seek more than normalcy.
Isabel has accepted me with all my faults and abnormalities. And I have tossed her away like a piece of trash.
What is wrong with me?
Isabel
As I open my office door, I don’t recall ever feeling this much pain before. I don’t feel it for myself—not at all—but for Grant. The poor man has something so deep going on inside of him that it’s criminal.
How could such a strong man be that damn weak in any area?
I don’t understand it and don’t know if I want to. What darkness is behind the man?
And why do I love him so damn much?
Taking a seat at my desk, I open up my laptop. Maybe I can do a search on his name and get some idea of what has him so messed up.
I know his mother is dead and that she has everything to do with his emotional problems, but how did she die?
Just as I click on the search engine, my door opens, and there he stands, head up, smiling like nothing has happened. “Hey, I just want you to know I’m really thankful for you staying in here. I mean it.” Grant’s dark blue eyes move from mine to the laptop that’s open in front of me. He walks in, still looking at it.
I close it and look at the thing he’s coming to see me about, thinking up a reason for why it was open. “I was going to reread the contract we came up with. I think it might need tweaking for each couple. We’ve had a couple of people come in already for contracts and one of them asked for things that aren’t in there. I think I’ll make some areas in the contract where it can be tailored for each couple. Doesn’t that sound smart?”
“Yeah, it does.” He takes a seat in one of the chairs on the other side of my desk. “You okay?”
With a light chuckle, I answer his vague question, “Are any of us?”
He sighs and leans back in the chair. “Not really.”
The light way we’re talking makes me feel better, and it seems to be making him feel better too. He and I get along so well when it’s just the two of us.
I don’t know if that’s good or bad—I just know it is what it is.
“We have a crowd of three-hundred-and-two tonight. Not bad for a grand opening of a private club, boss.” I pull open the bottom drawer, where I have some Scotch hidden, and take out a glass I had been using plus one more. I place them on the desk top, fill them both, and push one over to him. “We should have a drink and make a toast to the success of your little dream.”
His smile is devastating as he takes the glass, lifting it up. “To many years of success together.”
I clink my glass against his. “To a fruitful business endeavor.”
We each take a drink, then put the short, crystal glasses back down on the desk. “Did you buy that for this occasion, Isabel?”
“Maybe.” I wink at him, trying to keep things light. It seems to be working better that way after all.
“Great choice, and one that’s none too cheap. Macallan eighteen-year-old Scotch is pricey. You can’t afford that, can you?” He chuckles as he pushes his big hand through his thick salt and pepper hair.
“My boss pays me well. I can handle the cost of some good liquor, thanks to him.” Pulling the glass to my lips once more, I inhale the scent before I take another sip.
As nice as it is to be getting along with Grant, it’s hard as hell not to want to crawl right into his lap, throw my arms around his neck, and kiss those full lips of his that send me to a place no one else’s ever have.
But that might make this nice time with him end, so I won’t be doing that. And my door is now wide open as well. That would look so unprofessional if anyone came to see me.
But, damn, it would feel so fucking good to do just that.
“The other owners and I are going out for breakfast once we close.” He taps his fingertips on the desk next to his drink. “You coming?”
“Are you inviting me to join you all?” I’m elated to be invited by him, but I’m not showing it. I don’t want to spook that man.
“I am. You’re as much a part of the success we’re having tonight as the rest of us. You may not have put in the money we have, but you certainly have put in the time. We all are thankful to you for that.” He leans back, putting his hands behind his head and looking sexy as hell, as usual.
“Well, then I would be honored to join you all for our first after-hours breakfast.” I give him a smile and raise my glass. He does too, and we touch glasses once more. “To many, many after-hours breakfasts together.”
“Cheers to that.” He takes another drink. then looks at me over the glass. “Thanks for being you, Isabel. I appreciate the hell out of you. I want you to know that.”
And I love you.
I think it, but I don’t dare say it again. “I appreciate the hell out of you too, Grant. All of you guys. I was a poor college student when I applied for this job. I’ve already surpassed my five-year goal, thanks to this opportunity.”
“We ask a lot out of you, though.” His cheeks glow as I know he’s thinking about the part of my job that has had us fucking on a daily basis for months. But then his expression goes serious. “Now that we’ve opened and shown the members our scene, there’s no reason to ask that of you any longer. You did more than anyone could ask for. We won’t be asking you to do that anymore.”
“No more sex?” I’m dumbfounded, and I kind of feel sick.
I mean, I knew sex was off the table when we were fighting, but I kind of assumed, since he’s back in my office and things are going great, that it’s back on again.
“Like I said, we’ve already asked too much from you. I, for one, don’t want to burn you out. You’re going to be really busy now, with the members, contracts, managing the auctions, and the people in them. You have a lot on your shoulders now that we’re up and running. I won’t ask you to do any more scenes. It wouldn’t be right.”
“I could get an assistant to help me with all the other stuff, Grant. Really, I loved doing the scene.” I know I’m sounding kind of desperate and really hate that I’m almost begging the man not to put me off the way he is.
“You’re going to get an
assistant. That was the other surprise. We want you to get on hiring one you know you can work well with. You can start setting up interviews as soon as tomorrow.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and chews on his lower lip for a moment, then peers at me. “And I don’t want you out there like that anymore. I don’t want anyone to look at you that way again. I’ve also decided that you don’t need to dress so sexily. The other owners and I wear tuxes. You should look a bit more official as well. I’m thinking a nice white, starched shirt that buttons up high, not showing any cleavage at all. A nice A-line skirt in black or dark blue that goes past your knees too. Tuck the shirt in and wear a heel that’s no higher than, say, two inches. How about that? Can you do that for me, Isabel?”
“Of course I can.” I get it now. He’s jealous over me. And I like that. I like that a lot.
Pulling his hands out of his pockets, I see a small black box in the right one. He places it on my desk and pushes it toward me. “And I don’t want to see that red collar on you anymore. Wear this instead.”
Opening the little box, I see it’s a ring like the ones the owners wear. Only the proportions are small and feminine, and my heart is melting. A large, black stone rises up in the middle of a dragon’s mouth. Red flames are at the bottom of the stone. It’s made of the club’s signature colors—red and black.
I slide it onto the ring finger of my right hand, the same finger they all wear theirs on. It fits me perfectly. “Wow. Just …wow, Grant. You don’t know how special this makes me feel to you all.”
“Good. We all appreciate you and all you have done and will do for our little project here on the outskirts of Portland, Oregon. And we all thought you should have something more substantial than a red slave collar to remember your time here with us. The ring is worth a lot of money. I’m only telling you that so you don’t lose it.” He sits back and looks at the ring on my finger.
I can’t help but think it symbolizes our connection. He may not want one with me or anyone, but Grant can’t always get what he wants. We are connected, he and I. There’s not a thing he can do to end that.
Not even be a complete ass, it seems.
Vengeful Seduction_A Submissives’ Secrets Novel Page 31