by Laura Bailey
Surrender to me
(The Obsession Series)
Laura Bailey
All rights reserved. Circ 2013
Prelude
He removed his black suit jacket. He loosened his tie and took it off. He wore a suit remarkably well, tailored so carefully to the outlines of his figure, the definition of the muscles in his thighs clearly visible. He walked to her and put the tie around her eyes, pulling it behind her head and knotting it. She could see nothing now. Just hear his voice.
He stood back, taking in the sight of her, still fully clothed, but bound and blindfolded. His erection, which had begun as he had touched her wrists, made it difficult to slow himself down. He just wanted to take her now; and yet every moment he spent with her felt sensual on its own.
He retrieved the contract. “Ok, so I am going to read the contract aloud for you, given that you are not in a position to read it yourself. And by the way, whether you fiancé has been cheating on you is beside the point. You, being his significant other, makes you liable for my financial loss. So, what I have stipulated in the contract is that; You are to be available to me at all times; you are to allow me to do whatever it is I need to do to you sexually; and you are to satisfy every request I make of you sexually.
He stood in front of her, sinisterly seductive, a smile she could not see, on his face. He approached her, his hand going to her cheek, stroking it softly.
“Just to clarify; you will be mine whenever I need you. Starting now. And there is something I have so badly wanted to do to you since the moment I set eyes on you.”
Chapter One
Tara walked up the stone steps to the entrance of the club with trepidation, nerves tensing her stomach. She smoothed down her skirt and checked her hair in one of the glass windows as she pulled open the entrance door. She practically bumped straight into the man; her head still slightly turned to the glass window, she had failed to see him exiting with speed. Storm-tossed eyes stared down at her; emerald green and deep as the sea on an autumn day; bracing and alive.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” His face inches from hers; his chest broad and firm, pressed hard against hers. She flushed, taking a step backward and almost losing her balance in her heels.
“My apologies, Ma’am.” His voice was deep; his eyes searing her in their intensity, as he took her in. His presence an overwhelming force, setting off a visceral feeling deep within her that she did not recognise. He moved sideways to get past her and down the steps.
Disconcerted, she was lost for a moment before she took hold of the door again and entered. Inside the lobby she looked in awe at the grandeur of the marble floor, the magnificent sculptures, and the fine art paintings. It was an incredibly impressive location. She walked as calmly as possible to the reception desk. A pretty, well groomed receptionist greeted her.
“Hi, I have a meeting with Damien Lawson.”
“Yes, he is expecting you. He asked if you could make your way to the Bar and he will meet you there.”
“Oh, ok, thank you very much.” Tara looked around.
“The Bar is straight through there, behind you.”
“Lovely, thank you.”
She turned and saw the entrance through an archway across the lobby. She hated entering places on her own, particularly a formal establishment like this, and especially a gentlemen’s club. She wished he had arranged for a different location. His office would have been better, surely. But she had little option except to meet him where he had stipulated. Garnering her confidence, she walked head held straight, into the Bar. Plush, opulent, luxurious, were the words that came to mind as she glanced around; rich leather sofas, fine wooden chairs, smooth polished tables, a distinct air of refinement. The occupants were all men, well-dressed in sports jackets or well-cut suits. Tara quickly walked toward the Barman.
“Good Evening, Madam, What can I get you?”
“Oh, I’m here to meet with Damien Lawson. Would you know if he is here?”
“He was Madam; he asked that you meet him in here. He said he will be back shortly. In the meantime, would you care for a drink?”
“Could I have a whiskey please?”
“Bourbon?”
She could never get used to the slight nuances between English and American language; having spent her entire life in London.
“Yes, thank you.”
She hardly drank at all, but quite welcomed the opportunity for some Dutch courage at this moment.
“I will bring it over for you.”
“Thank you.” Tara turned, unsure quite where to sit and slightly intimidated by the eyes of the Bar’s occupants.
She chose a window seat with a table, on the left, half way down the room, thinking she could pass the time looking out of the window whilst she waited, instead of having nothing to look at whilst everyone else in there would look at her, a woman alone. The Barman brought over her Bourbon and it looked like a double. She quickly brought it to her lips and drank, hoping to dampen the nerves in the pit of her stomach. She had been feeling tense and anxious pretty much constantly since her fiancé, Michael, former soldier turned private contractor, had vanished. His disappearance had brought her here tonight. After ten days with no word; and since discovering he had drained their joint bank account, Tara had been in a state of worry. Not only had he disappeared without trace, he had taken all of their money. Stranded here in Washington D.C. in an empty apartment and no job, Tara had begun to look for answers. This was the Special Forces Members club, where Mike was a member. She was waiting to meet his boss, after several days of trying to get hold of the man. It was her one hope of finding out what had happened and where Mike was. She sipped her drink, waiting.
Damien had hurried down the steps, away from the woman, needing to make the call in private. Although it was quiet enough in the Bar, he just couldn’t be sure of who might hear him and some things he preferred to keep to himself. Urgency was his primary concern, although in the back of his mind he was processing the woman. Such blue eyes, deep and dark, soulful, sad even. Long auburn hair framed her face which was paler than most. He walked far enough away from the building to make the call.
“Mac, tell me the news?”
“Nothing yet Damien.”
“Not good enough Mac, get your act together. I want information, today. You’ve got two hours.”
Damien hung up, irritated by the lack of progress and frustrated at having to wait. He had patience; he had had to use it on many assignments in his career, but this was personal. This time his patience was running thin. For now, he would wait; but when it called for action, he wanted to be a part of it, that was for sure. He took a walk through the streets, deceptively suburban though they were a stones throw from Union Station in downtown D.C. He often marvelled at how such quiet streets could exist so close to the heart of the Capitol. He found them relaxing and for their proximity he was grateful. That their Club was amongst these streets was a blessing; away from the bustle of the centre yet close enough for the many business meetings he would go to as CEO of Pantheon Security.
He needed to know Mike Hutchins’ location; and he would take it from there. He should get back to the Club where he had said he would meet Mike’s fiancé.
Waiting for him, the bourbon had helped take the edge off her nerves, but she still felt out of place. She didn’t see any other women in the place. Outside it was completely dark no
w and the solitude enveloped her as she stared into it. He mind flashed back to the image of the man she collided with on the steps.; the fire in his eyes, the visceral feeling they caused inside of her, unfamiliar to her, yet inciting.
The Barman approached and asked if she would like another but she declined, needing to keep a clear head. Moments later she heard footsteps behind her; men had been coming and going as she had sat there and she doesn’t think anything of it.
“Tara?” A voice from behind her.
She turned her head to look up. It was him; the man she had run into. Confused, she answered him.
He walked around to the front of her. “I’m Damien Lawson.” He couldn’t hide the flicker of recognition on his face. “So we meet again.” He looked amused. She felt embarrassed, again.
“I apologise for keeping you waiting. Can I get you a drink?”
“Thank you, bourbon please.”
She agreed, only to buy herself time to find some composure. She did not want to be drunk for this meeting. She felt hugely awkward again, and at a disadvantage, which she hated.
Returning, he placed her drink in front of her.
“Now, what would you like to know Ma’am?”
The scrutiny in his eyes was intimidating. His physical presence alone almost overwhelming. He was broad shouldered, toned. His frame was solid. His upper arms held muscle definition. A man who exuded physical power. He almost scared her.
“As I mentioned in my telephone call, Mike has gone missing. He disappeared ten days ago and I want to know what has happened to him. When he went away on jobs before he always told me beforehand that he was going, and always contacted me if he could whilst he away. I know that wasn’t always possible so I was used to that; but he has never gone away before without telling me.” At this point, she didn’t disclose to him that he had also drained their joint bank account.
“Of his disappearance, I am well aware.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“That I do not know.”
“Why?”
“Excuse me?” Anger flickered in his eyes.
“You’re his Boss.”
“Lady, I know that.”
“Then can’t you tell me?” desperation was creeping into her tone.
“Of his location, I was hoping that you would be able to tell me.” His hand rested on his chin, in questioning mode.
“I don’t understand what you mean?”
“I need to know his whereabouts; rather urgently. I don’t know his whereabouts, and that concerns me deeply.” What he didn’t tell her was that he was actually more concerned about the whereabouts of the $5million in company funds that had disappeared at exactly the same time as Mike. That he had millions more, was extremely wealthy, was beside the point. He wanted that money back. Badly. His eyes were piercing into her. His hands now flat on the table. She was fascinated by his controlled movements. She could imagine them in motion, on the attack. She felt disturbed by his revelation.
“I was hoping you might shed some light on the matter?”
“I don’t know anything; that’s why I came to you.”
“Mmm. Is that so?” He smiled but it wasn’t one of friendliness.
“I’ll give you 24 hours.”
“Pardon?”
“24 hours.”
“For what?”
“To decide that the right thing to do is to tell me.”
A stunned silence fell over the table. Her eyes darted around as though searching for clarification from somewhere to tell her what the hell was happening here. Anger rose inside her.
“I came to you.” She gesticulated with a finger.
He did not rise to it. Couldn’t have looked calmer.
“That is true,” he considered, “However, subterfuge is a common trait in my line of business, so you wouldn’t be the first.”
“How dare he? He may be a fierce looking opponent but she was furious. She had been through absolute hell worrying about Mike and now he was accusing her of something she didn’t even understand.
“I don’t do subterfuge, Mr Lawson. I just want to know where Mike is. That is my concern.”
“And mine too. As I said, 24 hours. Same time tomorrow.”
With that he got up and walked away. Tara’s eyes followed him out of the bar. She stood shakily. Why would he turn the tables on her like that. What on earth had just happened?
Chapter Two
She kept her head down as she left he Bar, from the sight on any onlookers who might have caught some of the conversation. She was alone and pretty much desperate now. Walking back along the side streets toward the Metro, she longed for Mike to turn up, to clear this situation for her.
Damien had got into his Mercedes and driven off before she had emerged from the Club; his temper making him drive faster than was strictly necessary for the short distance to his apartment close by. He thumped the steering wheel with his fist, trying to decide whether to change direction and go back to the office or just call it a night. What could he achieve at the office now anyway? It was 10.30pm, and whilst the office was staffed night and day due to the nature of their work, he couldn’t see what more he could do that he hadn’t already done. His personnel, those he called on to perform tasks involving intelligence gathering and forensic accounting, with years of expertise between them, previously all ex-Special Forces, had come up with nothing on Mike or Tara. His men were some of the best in the world at what they did. He called his right hand man, Todd.
“Make sure Adam and Kane keep on her tail still for the next 24 hours; no slip ups. I’ve just sent her a warning, and I don’t want her fleeing now she knows we are onto her.” Tomorrow he would get the answers he was looking for from her. He knew all there was to know about double crossing, and bluffs; he was no longer shocked by the betrayal he had seen in his world, chasing terrorists and Persons of Interest. What stunned him when he first started; the guile of the most innocent looking of people, no longer disturbed him. It was almost a given. He knew what humans were now fully capable of, in their worst moments, and sometimes it was treacherous. She may appear an innocent woman but he wasn’t easily fooled, and Mike didn’t carry this off all on his own.
He needed to get his mind off this situation. He needed to let it go tonight. It would drive him crazy if not. He headed home, locked the car in the Garage, going up into his apartment and immediately turning on some classical music; its ability to calm him had been a blessing many a time. He needed to be up early for a breakfast meeting with a client downtown, so he went straight to bed; but her face was in his mind’s eye as he lay there awake.
Tara had spent a very restless night, sleeping fitfully and now felt dreadful; even more so as she recalled the incessant images that had run through her mind as she lay there most of the night; Damien Lawson’s presence imposing on her. She failed to understand why she saw him so devastatingly attractive in such awful circumstances, but the visions of him were so real it was like he was touching her physically with his presence, like a fever running through her; a strange carnal craving for a dangerous man. Lack of sleep, lack of food, were weakening her and she needed to pull herself together. Getting showered and dressed she resolved to go to the cafe a couple of blocks away for a good breakfast.
It wasn’t until she sat down that she suddenly realised she didn’t even have enough money to buy a breakfast. Humiliated, she left before ordering and walked back home. Cursing Mike for the hundredth time in the few days, she knew she would have to return to London soon if he did not return. She had no legal right to work in this Country, and couldn’t survive much longer without an income.
Damian had spent the day in meetings, from the morning until the early part of the evening, back to back. Although it was good for business, they sometimes bored him; he often yearned for action, missing the adrenaline of his former times. As the sun started to set, he drove through the Capitol to the Club. He was an hour or so early to meet her. He greeted a couple of other
members as he entered, engaging in a brief conversation with them, knowing most of the members here since he had been coming over the last few years, many of them having served with him at one time or another in the Military.
He opted to sit alone though and wait for her, choosing the same table from the night before. He realised how long it had been since he had sat waiting to meet a woman, not that this was a date of course, but it did make him think about it, given the appeal she held. It had been a long time without a woman. For good reason he reminded himself. Loyalty in a woman, he had discovered, was a rare find. Maybe it was the instability of his profession, but he had found that the women he had known were not too good at sticking around for the long haul. Admittedly, when he used to be away for months at a time, maybe he couldn’t really blame them. Here in this club was the closest thing he had to loyalty, family. He picked up the newspaper to read, killing time, occasionally looking out of the window to see if he would spot her coming. He found himself staring more out of the window than reading.
In the shadows outside he thought he could see her now approaching; her figure delicate in the darkness surrounding her, just her pale face visible, framed by her long hair. His eyes turned to the entrance of the bar to watch her enter. Dressed in a simple short woollen grey dress, down to her knees, he noticed that she dressed modestly, and he like the subtlety.
She stood at the threshold of the bar, looking around for him and seeing him seated at the same table as the night before. She took that as an ominous sign; like a replay of the previous nights unpleasantness was waiting for her.
“What can I get you to drink?” he asked her, standing up.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“No, really, I insist; business is always better settled over a drink. Same as last night I presume?”
“Thank you.” She looked into his face and was drawn again by the strength of his eyes, the fierce intelligence.
He rose to get them and within moments returned, glasses in hand.