There was only one element missing and that was Beth. It took very little effort on Adam’s part to picture her on the well-padded spanking bench, her hair streaming toward the floor while he administered a sound spanking to her luscious behind.
The playroom was conveniently situated right next to his bedroom and while a very small number of specially selected subs had been honored with sessions in there, none had ever found their way to the sacrosanct domain of his bedroom. His ex had been the last woman in there and she’d left enough bad memories to last a lifetime.
Then maybe it’s time you made new memories.
The voice was soft and gentle—the voice was Beth’s. The picture in his mind changed, became a slideshow of different images—she’d be on her knees in front of him, her body gracefully poised in the first position, her long hair draped over the swell of her breasts or she’d be tied to the bed in the playroom. Or curled up next to him while she slept, exhausted from the pleasure he’d demonstrated her beautiful body was capable of experiencing and the aftercare with which he’d brought her back from subspace.
And there was no denying it. He opened the bedroom door and stared at the huge bed—Beth was the first woman he’d wanted in it for a long, long time.
The weekend had been something of an epiphany and it had gone a long way toward explaining why he’d felt so out of kilter for the last six months—ever since his last birthday and the growing awareness of what his life had become.
Scenes at the club no longer left him satisfied. If anything, they had the opposite effect, leaving him acutely aware of the emptiness of certain aspects of his life…of a growing need for one special sub with whom he had an emotional connection as well as a physical one. The early starts and late finishes at the office were not so much due to the demands of business as his reluctance to spend too much time in an empty apartment.
He wanted someone there. Specifically, he wanted Beth.
For a reckless moment, Adam let his imagination run away with him—Beth as his sub, in his life 24/7, both at home and in the office. Not only would he have her there beside him at work, she’d also be coming home with him. A leisurely dinner together, some time to relax and then he would lead her to the bedroom and take ownership of her—everything she was, everything she thought, everything she felt.
It had been one hell of a weekend.
The best thing he could do now was get down to some work. He closed the bedroom door and went downstairs, heading for his well-equipped office.
* * * * *
From Beth’s perspective, Thursday morning came round far too quickly. She purposely got to the office at a ridiculously early time, hoping to beat Adam there. Although it wasn’t part of her job, she collected the mail on her way in, rather than leaving it to the admins who would arrive a couple of hours later. At the end of the security inspection, she had been very relieved to take back possession of the office keys.
Dan Chesterfield had given nothing away regarding the exercise and it was impossible to read anything into his usual breezy attitude. He’d chatted briefly with her and then taken his leave of her—strolling away, one hand in his trouser pocket, whistling tunelessly.
Beth really needed to focus on something work-related. Writing rather than retail therapy had been her indulgence of choice, so now she was hoping that she could face her employer without blushing, given his role as the blueprint for her Dom—the Dom in her book, she reminded herself sternly.
“Beth, what the hell are you doing here so early?”
Caught off guard, for a moment she floundered then grabbed the lifeline of her sense of composure—it had always served her well during the time she’d worked for Adam. She looked up at his handsome, if somewhat annoyed face.
“Good morning, Mr. Granger,” she greeted him. “Thank you for the last few days —it was most unexpected.”
He made a dismissive gesture. “You didn’t answer my question. It’s 6:30 in the bloody morning.”
Her hand indicated the stack of mail. “The office has been closed for three days and emails and phone messages have piled up, too. I wanted to make an early start on the backlog.”
His steely gaze moved from the pile of envelopes back to Beth. “That isn’t your job. I pay a team of admins to look after that crap, so you can take it all back to their office. Now.”
Beth’s breath caught in her throat. She’d never heard that tone in his voice before. It was a tone that was intended to intimidate and it sent a delicious shiver up and down her spine.
“Beth.” His commanding voice drew her mind sharply back into focus. “I said now. And when you’re done you can come into my office.”
And with that he strode off into said office without a backward glance, leaving Beth to deal with an instinctive compulsion to obey. Almost as if she had no control over her own legs, she stood up and left the office, heading for the one shared by the team of admins.
On her return she went straight into Adam’s office. He’d shed both his jacket and tie, dumping them unceremoniously on the sofa. He was seated at his desk, his forehead resting in his hand while he studied a document. Without thinking, she folded his tie and placed it on the coffee table and took his jacket to hang it in the small closet.
She had no idea that Adam was watching her keenly from under his hand—and even if she had been aware there was no way she would have guessed that her graceful movements were sending all sorts of thoughts through his mind and his body.
Today she was wearing a smartly tailored black skirt, with a silk blouse in dove gray, the ever-present black, sheer, fully fashioned hosiery with a Cuban heel—and today’s fuck-me shoes were the iridescent peacock-blue pumps with the narrow ankle strap that was attached to the shoe at the back of her heel. Four-inch heels on the shoes, of course and when she reached to replace the hanger with his jacket on it in the closet, he virtually broke into a sweat at the way she extended her left leg for balance, the elegant point of her toe almost balletic in form.
“You wanted to see me, Mr. Granger?”
She had taken up a position on the other side of the desk, directly opposite him. Her hands were clasped together in front of her—no fidgeting, he was pleased to see. He came out from under the screen of his hand and looked up at her.
“Sit down, Beth. This won’t take long.” He paused while she obeyed, crossing those incredible legs at the ankles and tucking them under the chair. Her hands remained clasped on her lap. For a brief moment, he thought about her training. The training itself wouldn’t be the problem—no, the problem would be getting her to accept what she was.
The sub who belonged in his bed, and the woman who belonged in his life.
“Do you have a valid passport?”
Beth raised her eyebrows. He got the distinct feeling that she wasn’t expecting that question. “Yes, sir. It’s good for the next four years.”
“Excellent. Clear your calendar and mine for next week. Can you book us on the first flight to Amsterdam next Monday? We’ll be returning on Thursday so can you also book us a suite each at…damn it.” He extracted a business card from his wallet, glanced at it briefly and passed it to Beth. “Here.”
She scanned the card. “Is this where you stayed this week?”
“No, I thought we’d give this one a try. If you have any trouble booking the suites, ask to speak to the manager—his name’s on the back of the card—and mention my name. Everything okay, Beth?”
“Sir, I’m a little confused as to why you need me to go with you?”
“Career development,” he replied, his tone somewhat curt due to the spontaneous nature of his improvised response. “Unless there’s some reason— “
“Oh, no, not at all. I’m looking forward to it.”
* * * * *
Normally, Beth relished the thought of the bus ride home on a Friday, but this time all she could think about was that it was another day nearer to Amsterdam, and spending time alone with Adam, without the distraction
s of the office.
And that was why her mind wasn’t on her surroundings when she left the building and became another crime statistic for the Metropolitan Police. The mugger came from nowhere, sent her flying into an awkward heap and made off with her bag before she knew what happened.
Stunned and in shock she looked around, her mind in total denial of what had just happened. The dirty, grazed palms and knees belonged to someone else as did the ankle that hurt like hell when she stood up. Instinct more than anything drove her to limp back whence she came, knowing that there was at least one person still in the office.
* * * * *
Getting changed to go to Apollo, Adam had just unfastened his shirt when he heard noises outside in Beth’s office. What the…? The office was closed for the weekend so who the hell was that? He tensed, ready to take on whoever was out there, and opened the door a crack so as not to alert the intruder.
Beth! But she must have left twenty minutes ago—what was she doing back here? He was about to go to her then realized she was on the phone. She put the receiver down and promptly burst into tears—not great, dramatic floods but heartbreakingly stifled, half-swallowed sobs that spoke volumes about loneliness and despair.
Something ugly twisted in his gut. “Beth, what’s happened?” He moved swiftly to confront her, his state of semi-undress forgotten.
She looked at him and he was struck immediately by her valiant attempt to regain her composure. “Nothing. I—” Her lovely mouth trembled for a moment. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be here. My bag was snatched and I fell. My shoes—” She looked down at the scuffed shoes sitting untidily to one side. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what else to do.”
It was then that he saw the torn nylons and the grazes to her knees—the heels of her hands were probably skinned too. “Let me see,” he commanded gently, hating seeing his so-capable assistant looking so bewildered and so vulnerable.
When he took her hands in his, Beth felt her distress start to melt away. His hands dwarfed hers but his touch was so very gentle. He examined the light grazes that were stinging now rather than just smarting and told her to wait. A few minutes later he returned, this time carrying a small bowl of hot water, a bottle of antiseptic and some supplies from the first-aid box. She tried very hard not to stare at the muscular chest only partially concealed by the unbuttoned shirt.
“We have to get you cleaned up. It’ll be easier if you take those off.“ He nodded in the direction of her nylon-clad legs.
Momentarily forgetting the damage to her ankle, Beth went to stand up, only to gasp again at the sharp pain that shot through the joint. She sat down again, waiting for the pain to subside.
Her employer was frowning at her. “What is it?”
“My ankle.” She pointed to the offending limb. “I fell when he snatched my bag. I think it might be sprained.” Her teeth bit into her lower lip.
“Here.” He stood in front of her, holding out his hands, palms up. “Let me help you up and then put your hands on my shoulders.”
There was something about his voice that quelled the protest she was about to make about managing on her own. Instead she put her hands into his and allowed him to help her. He guided her hands up to his broad shoulders so that she could steady herself while standing on her good leg.
“Tights or stockings?” His gaze held hers as he asked the question. Surely the rising tide of intimacy was just a figment of her imagination?
“Tights.” Her voice was little more than an embarrassed whisper.
She gasped as he lifted her skirt without so much as a by-your-leave. With deft movements, he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her tights and gently pulled them down over her hips. Was it her imagination or did his hands linger a little longer than necessary over the curves? And was he taking just a little too much time in drawing them down her thighs, taking even greater care when he reached her damaged knees? She looked down at the man crouched in front her and all of a sudden it was getting so hard to breathe normally. Especially when those hot, masculine hands smoothed her skirt back into place.
“Sit.”
She obeyed instantly and then one leg at a time, still with the utmost care, he removed the tights completely. The crouch became a kneel and she could hardly hear him telling her that “this” was going to sting a bit for the pounding of her own heartbeat.
It was the sting that broke her trance-like state and enabled her to breathe again. Her sharp intake of breath caught his attention immediately. He stopped bathing her knees to ask her if she was all right.
Although she nodded, Beth was biting her lower lip. Adam suspected that she was hurting more than she was prepared to admit. The grazes were minor but she could barely put any weight on her right foot and then there was the possibility of shock to consider. There was no way he was letting her out of his sight tonight.
“At least he didn’t get the office keys,” she murmured, her hand closing on the bunch of keys she’d left on her desk.
Adam made an impatient noise. “Sod the bloody office keys! What about your own keys? And your credit and debit cards? What else did you have in your bag?”
No cards—she’d left her purse at home by accident this morning and her keys were still in her coat pocket. “My mobile phone.”
After the theft was reported to the phone company, Adam continued with his questioning. “Was there anything with your address on it?”
When she told him that there was, it sealed the deal for Adam. She was going home with him whether she liked it or not. Furthermore, he was going to get Dan Chesterfield to check her place and make sure that everything was all right.
Beth couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. Her employer was on the phone, arranging with his friend for a check to be made on her home. Something niggled at her for a moment, then she realized what it was—Adam hadn’t asked for her address but he’d given it to Dan all the same.
With the mugging already reported to the police, all of a sudden Beth was overcome by a yearning to go home.
“Not just yet, love,” Adam said absently, concentrating on cleansing her hands. “I need to get you cleaned up and comfortable, then I need to get changed. And after that you’re coming home with me.”
No! She couldn’t possibly do that. “Mr. Granger, please.” Beth tried to regain her composure and some sense of control. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself—“
“Normally, of that I would have no doubt, Miss Harrison,” he agreed, with additional emphasis on her name. “However, would you care to explain why you’re shaking like the proverbial leaf?” He took her hand in a firm but gentle grasp, carefully avoiding the grazed area.
All of a sudden, Beth was close to tears again. Her knees were hurting, so were her hands, her ankle was giving her hell and she just wanted warmth, comfort and familiarity.
Her employer’s chest wasn’t helping, either. She knew he worked out and it showed in the hard, sculpted muscles that moved so enticingly as he worked on her injuries. Then she remembered something he’d said earlier in the day.
“You were going out this evening,” she recalled quietly. “I’m sorry. Look, I can get myself home—”
“And then what?” His voice was neutral. “You can’t walk. You need someone to take care of you.”
He stood up. “Stay here. I won’t be long.” With that he disappeared back into his office.
Beth sighed. She wasn’t used to being taken care of like this. A solitary tear trickled down her cheek and she swiped it away with the back of her hand. Now she was just feeling sorry for herself. She had her bus pass, it was in the same pocket as her keys and she was sure she could get to the bus stop.
She slipped her feet back into her shoes, wincing when it came to the right one, then stood up somewhat gingerly, taking her weight on her left foot.
Her brief cry of pain and collapse back onto her chair were timed beautifully for Adam emerging from his office. He was pulling on his s
uit jacket. The shirt was buttoned now, although he had left it undone at the collar and his tie was looped loosely around his neck.
“What the hell…? Beth, for once in your life, will you stop being so bloody stubborn and independent and let me take care of you? You’re staying with me tonight and that’s final! And stop bloody apologizing!”
The words died on her lips. How had he known what she was about to do?
“Take these.” He held out his keys—office, car and she presumed, the keys to his apartment. “I need you to lock up—I’ll have my hands full.” And with that he slipped one arm under her legs and the other around her back. Automatically, her arms went around his neck.
With her face inches from his, Beth almost stopped breathing. Her senses were overwhelmed by the feel of his arms around her, holding her effortlessly to his chest, the clean, masculine scent of him. And then all the visuals—dark eyes framed by thick, black lashes that women would kill for, clear skin stretched taut over cheekbones that would challenge the skill of a master sculptor and the rugged hint of five o’clock shadow clinging to the firm lines of his jaw.
And his mouth. What she would give to be the woman entitled place a gentle kiss to those lips…
The office secured for the weekend, they rode in the lift down to the basement car park. Beth expected Adam to let her down while they were in the lift but she remained securely in his arms. Neither of them spoke, but to Beth it felt like there was a whole subtext going on. It had to be her imagination working overtime, painting Adam into the role of the Dom in her manuscript again.
At this time on a Friday night it wasn’t surprising to see only a handful of cars there. Adam installed her in the passenger seat of his black Aston Martin and moments later the car’s powerful engine roared into life, taking them out of the subterranean cavern and into the bright lights of London.
Chapter Three
There was something surreal about travelling through the bright lights of the city, in a breathtaking car driven by an equally breathtaking man, so it was hardly surprising that Beth’s mind was a million miles away in a secret place that was warm, dark and intimate—and she’d taken that man with her.
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