Hold My Hand

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Hold My Hand Page 1

by Paloma Beck




  Hold My Hand

  Paloma Beck

  Aubrey has been hurt in the past, discouraged and degraded by a heartless father. Still, William sees something in her that won't allow him to walk away. Instantly drawn to her but intuitive enough to take it slowly, he courts her. Then he bargains, persuades and seduces until he ensnares Aubrey with his commanding nature. Despite the fight she puts up in accepting William's lifestyle, the bonds he places on Aubrey give her a freedom she desperately needs. And together, they heal old wounds and find their perfect love.

  This contemporary BDSM-lite Romance contains explicit sex scenes,

  including consensual adult spanking.

  Hold My Hand

  Paloma Beck

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright 2013 Paloma Beck

  The right of Paloma Beck to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  The story contained within this book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the author. The only exception is for a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Edited by Perk It Up Editing

  Cover Art by Erin Dameron-Hill Graphics

  Trademark Notices

  Diet Coke, Coca Cola Company

  Amazing Grace, John Newton, published in 1779

  Dedication

  For Ducky. You Are Perfect. To Me.

  And for Bill, who made me laugh when life wasn’t so funny.

  Acknowledgements

  An author doesn’t write a book in isolation. I’d be remiss not to acknowledge those who supported me in my writing. First, to my book club whose friendships have colored my world. To Tyra Berger, for her proofreading talents and even more than that, for her intuitive suggestions that made the story stronger. To Natasha Knight, for beta reading when I needed new eyes to look at my characters and their story. To Joelle Casteel whose insights grounded my characters with authentic behavior.

  A person doesn’t live in isolation. I’ve been blessed with a supportive family. To my parents, especially my father who taught me a love for reading through his example. To my sisters Elaine and Linda who instilled in me a belief that I could do anything. To my husband Michael for allowing me the freedom to pursue my dream. And finally, love to my boys, for your indulgence every moment I spent writing instead of mothering. You are my reason.

  Paloma Beck

  http://PalomaBeck.weebly.com

  Chapter One

  He whispered, hold my hand.

  Late for work, I took the corner to the coffee shop at a quick pace, too focused on my phone call with my sister to notice the man walking out of the coffee shop before I ran into him. The coffee he held in his hand spilled down the front of his starched dress shirt but left me completely untouched. I stuttered out an apology, blushing furiously, offering to get him a new coffee, napkins, anything to make this dreadful scene end. You clumsy, stupid girl.

  I knew him. He came into the coffee shop –where I made his coffee- nearly every day. This moment though was the first time I’d actually spoken to him beyond the serving basics, but it was so not the first time I’d seen him. I’d noticed him coming in and out of the coffee shop where I worked for months. Sometimes he’d stay and read, always a classic novel that I too had read in college. Mostly he just ordered his coffee –tall, decaf, black– and be on his way. Even then, though, he always watched me pour it, knowing I too was watching him through my downcast eyes. I felt it even then that he was all knowing though we’d never spoken. He’d only nodded his head at me as I handed him his cup each day.

  Today was different. His kind eyes held a hint of irritation but also interest. We were going to talk about something other than his coffee. I hoped my voice wouldn’t fail me.

  “Dinner.” It was just one word but he needed to say no more. I understood and nodded my agreement.

  “Yes sir.” My answer provided me with the first smile I’d seen on William’s face. It was more a grin, a cat-catches-the-canary kind of grin that froze me in place. Had I been more intuitive then, I would’ve known of the things to come.

  “Very good. Tonight. I’ll come here to meet you at seven.”

  He walked away from me then with nothing more said. I froze, realizing that I’d agreed to have dinner with this man I hardly knew and wasn’t certain I even liked. To be honest, he frightened me a bit. To be even more honest, he excited me a lot, the kind of excitement I’d never known. He incited that warming feeling in my belly I was unaccustomed to before him. He was dangerous and a girl like me should stay away from a man like him. Nevertheless, I didn’t and now I couldn’t go back on my word.

  I turned to watch him get into a dark vehicle. A large man closed his door behind him and went around the driver’s door. Once he was seated, the car pulled away. He had a personal driver. Who was this man?

  My workday dragged on as I tried hard to dismiss all thoughts of what was to come tonight. I’d never gone out on a date with a man. In college, I preferred my studies and the few times I did go out, I wouldn’t exactly call those boys ‘men’. They certainly were nothing like William. Since graduating, working at the coffee shop and writing my first novel consumed my time. Truthfully, I’d never been very interested in dating. I’d left behind one terrible man –my father– and didn’t need to have a man in my life. Oh, they attracted me; don’t get me wrong. I read tempting historical romances all the time but men weren’t something I wanted in my life. I’m not sure men like that –the kind of man I wanted- existed in this time so I lived a quiet, solitary life that kept me happy enough.

  *****

  That night, true to his word, William entered the coffee shop at exactly seven. His car waited outside. He was dressed impeccably as always and instantly commanded the space as he entered. My breath stuttered as I looked my fill before instinctively lowering my lashes. I was grateful I’d gone home to put on a skirt. It was simple and not nearly as elegant as the clothes he wore. I could never match his caliber but at least I no longer bore the stained jeans of my workday.

  He stepped right to me where I stood near the counter talking to Gabby. She worked the night shift and was the closest person I had to a friend. “Aubrey, you look lovely.” Taking me by surprise, he used his forefinger to raise my chin and force my gaze to meet his. “I’ve never seen you in a dress. It serves you well.”

  My mouth suddenly dry, I swallowed down the lump of panic rising in my stomach as my heart rate accelerated. “Thank you.” Something to his touch caused me to come undone as if William were too much, too great for me. After all, I’m just Aubrey, no one special.

  “Shall we go?” William offered his arm to me and I was willingly captured. My random thoughts fluttered away. My body pulled flush against his side as we walked out of the shop and into the warm evening air.

  “Ma’am,” his driver gave a slight nod of the head as he opened the door and gestured for me to enter. I did so without a sound. To say I was overwhelmed was an understatement.

  “Do you care for steak? You eat meat, my sweet Aubrey?” He referred to me as his - clearly, this was just how he spoke. Still my heart thundered and I was sure he could hear it. It made no difference because he must already know what he did to me.

  “Yes sir.” My answer brought about that grin again, an amazing smile that both warmed and terrified me because the fleeting thought that I’d do anything for that smile ru
shed through me. I was caged by him like a bird with clipped wings. I could flutter but I couldn’t escape though I’m not certain I’d want to even if I could.

  “Wonderful,” he answered with a twitch on his lips and a glint in his eyes, “My close friend owns a restaurant just a few blocks away. I’ve reserved us a table.”

  “That sounds nice.” I’m nearly certain that’s what I said though with my head spinning, I couldn’t be positive. The heady scent of William surrounded me as I sat in his car so close to this man I hardly knew. It was warm and delicious, the scent so masculine, a dense musk causing a haze to fill every fiber of air I breathed. I allowed silent minutes to tick by, wishing he’d say something and, at the same time, scared of what he might say.

  When I looked at him, he was smiling at me with one side of his mouth quirked up and his eyebrows drawn down over his eyes as if he was puzzling me out. I felt the same way. I wanted to know him, who he was and what he wanted with me. I wanted a closer look into this man I’d allowed myself to fantasize over for months.

  The restaurant wasn’t far and we were there before the silence became awkward. As we got out of the car, William told Baylor, his driver, not to wait for us. Baylor smiled at me, nodded his head and returned to the car. I couldn’t imagine life with a driver and wondered what William’s life must be like. It must be so different from mine and again I couldn’t grasp why he’d asked me to dinner.

  We were seated immediately as we buzzed past a line of people waiting. Our table was small, in a corner and I noticed right away how private the space was. No one passed us but a single waiter who came to turn down the linen and flip our glasses. There was too much silence but I had no fitting words to offer. I wasn’t used to being with a man, or on a date. In fact, the scene was so surreal that I nearly felt as if I were watching myself through a photographer’s lens. This couldn’t be me.

  “I’m pleased you agreed to dinner.” His words washed over me.

  “I don’t understand why.” The words escaped my lips and there was no way for me to harness them before William let out a hearty laugh. He was amused by me, by my insecurity, and I blushed, the scarlet red of uncertainty stole across my cheeks.

  “Aubrey, you underestimate yourself. And I plan to teach you otherwise.”

  “You plan to teach me?” He threw me with his assertion and I looked towards him though I still had trouble making eye contact.

  “My sweet Aubrey,” his hand cupped my jaw, his thumb stroked my cheek and his mouth so close that I felt the words more than heard them, “I’ve watched you for a very long time now. And in this time, I’ve come to discover just as I first suspected. We are perfect for one another.”

  I gasped and he just smiled. Then he chuckled before placing a warm kiss on the tender spot beneath my ear where his words had been only moments before. Suddenly there was nothing but us, nothing but a warmth in my stomach that I didn’t understand. I shivered and chuckled. Then in a reprieve, he moved back as the waiter arrived with wine.

  I observed him, again from under lowered lashes as the waiter poured some into William’s glass and waited for him to taste it. When William nodded, the waiter filled his glass and then began to fill mine.

  “No thank you. I don’t drink.” I’d been speaking – I was sure because I could hear the words but the waiter looked only to William who shook his head. The waiter filled my glass and left. The bottle was on the table and sat between us as another example of our different lifestyles. It gave me something to look at, a distraction of sorts, as hummingbirds took flight in my stomach.

  “You’ll enjoy this. I promise you.” William sipped from his glass but I still didn’t pick mine up. He watched me, evaluating me, assessing me. I was a bug under a microscope and I began to squirm. I had never liked to be in the spotlight. Attention had never been gracious with me. You worthless tramp.

  “Don’t fidget. It’s unbecoming.” William stated a fact and I obeyed. My squirming ceased and he smiled. I’d earned his smile. Relieved, I returned the smile with one of my own.

  William reached across to my wine glass and brought it towards me. “Taste and see,” he said softly again close to my ear.

  He couldn’t possibly know he’d just quoted one of my favorite hymns but it left me breathless. I couldn’t resist following his instructions and opened my mouth as he placed the smooth glass on my bottom lip. The warm liquid splashed onto my tongue. I rolled it around in my mouth as I’d seen William do. Then I swallowed, and then groaned, literally groaned as the wine coated my throat. I’d discovered nectar, overwhelmed as I was by the new sensation of this drink and the multitude of tastes that bloomed on my tongue. The warmth radiating down my throat to my belly was soothing. It was unlike the blessed wine I received each Sunday at mass. This wine was bursting with delights I’ve never known.

  “You like it.” I liked his smile more. I liked his words against my skin more still.

  “Yes.” I reached for the wine glass but he held it to my lips again. He used one of his large hands to move my hands to my lap and held them there. His eyes never left mine and neither of us spoke another word as he served me sip after sip until my glass was empty.

  “Your cheeks are flushed. It’s beautiful,” he paused to look at me in that darkly delicious way he has, “absolutely beautiful, sweet Aubrey.”

  I said nothing because I didn’t know what to say. I just sat, blushing, with my hands in my lap where he placed them.

  “This is where you say thank you sir.” He guided me even in our conversation. He was teaching me as an instructor teaches a student.

  “Thank you, sir,” I repeated after him and earned myself another smile. I realized then with absolute clarity, I’d do anything for that smile.

  Our meals came next. As the waiter laid the plates on the table, a delicious dish of steak and vegetables was placed in front of William. Another plate with scallops sat near it, slightly between us. Yet another plate with what appeared to be creamy potatoes sat between us still. I watched for something to be placed in front of me but there was nothing more.

  “Anything else, sir?” The waiter asked William.

  “No, thank you. It looks fantastic,” William replied and dismissed the man.

  “What about me?” I asked softly, confused.

  “We’ll share. I’d like very much to feed you.” William spoke slowly and clearly but I still shook my head as if to clear it. No one had fed me since I was too young to feed myself.

  “I can feed myself.” It seemed obvious but I said it anyway.

  “Indeed.” He nodded once and surveyed the food, clearly unconcerned with my mild protest. “But I would prefer this.”

  “Does what I prefer matter?”

  “On occasion, Aubrey; but for now you’ll indulge me. Won’t you?”

  I looked back down at my lap as he began to cut the meat. I allowed him to feed me from his fork. It was awkward but I didn’t feel like a child, as I originally feared. He watched me chew. This simple act –his eyes on me so intently– caused me to fidget despite his earlier warning against it. I drank when he drank, that deep nectar continuing to warm me, calm me.

  “You’re watching me like a hawk. Do I scare you?” His grin told me he wasn’t offended but I worried anyway.

  “No,” I answered honestly, because I realized when forced to consider the question I’m not frightened by him as much as by my own reactions to him. I’d not felt this way towards a man before and it left me uncertain, to say the very least.

  “Do you like being fed?”

  I considered this next question and knew my answer in truth but couldn’t bring myself to say the words, to acknowledge the feelings that were rolling through me. I chewed my lip and held my tongue.

  “You will not lie, Aubrey, nor will you ignore me. I asked a simple question that requires a simple reply. Do you like being fed?” His words demanded I answer.

  “Yes.” My voice was quiet but I knew he heard me when I saw his l
ips quirk into that devastating smile of his.

  When the plates were nearly empty, his next words came as if he were reading my mind. “Would you like to know what I want from you, Aubrey? Perhaps it would soothe your nerves.” His finger stroked along my cheek until it rested gently on my lower lip.

  “Yes.” The word was nearly a sigh; and I regretted instantly his finger leaving me.

  “I want you. I want your submission,” he paused, taking my wrist in his hand and stroking across my pulse point. I’m certain he felt my pulse pick up. “’Your submission’ sounds lofty but is really quite simple. I ask for obedience, for you to trust me to oversee your pleasure.”

  “You mean with… i–in the bedroom?” I stuttered in my question but had no idea what I was saying, so far from my comfort zone. These were waters I never imagined myself in. I’d heard the term, read a regency romance with a submissive once, but never imagined discussing such a thing with a man.

  “There and other times as well, mostly at home while we’re by ourselves. You’ll learn when. I tend to be strict but I also enjoy times when I can relax with my submissives.”

  “Your submissives? There would be more than me?”

  William chuckled. I amused him. “No, sweet Aubrey, but there have been others in the past. I found monogamy agrees with me.”

  “Monogamy.” I had no idea why I repeated him except that I was in these unchartered waters and felt myself drowning.

  “One submissive, one dominant. You and me only. Do you understand?”

  “Yes. N-No. I know hardly anything about dominance and submission. I only understand their definitions; but what do they have to do with me?” My cheeks were burning red. I knew this without looking into a mirror. I’d never imagined speaking to a man about such things. Definitely not.

 

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