At His Mercy

by Tawny Taylor

  At His Mercy

  by

  Tawny Taylor

  Copyright ©2012 Tawny Taylor

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  Books By Tawny Taylor

  Wild Knights

  Wicked Knights

  Wanton Knights

  Wild, Wicked & Wanton

  Dark Master

  Decadent Master

  Dangerous Master

  Darkest Fire

  Darkest Desire

  Claim Me

  Wicked Beast

  Prince of Fire

  Girl Enslaved

  Dirty Little Lies

  Triple Stud

  Enslaved by Sin

  Double Take

  Behind the Mask

  Plays Well with Others

  Lust’s Temptation

  Wrath’s Embrace

  Burning Hunger

  Torrid Hunger

  Everlasting Hunger

  Slave of Duty

  Flesh to Flesh

  Compromising Positions

  Breathless

  Pleasing Him

  At His Mercy

  Ties That Bind

  Heart Throb

  Burn For You

  Her Lesson in Sin

  Touch of Fire

  His Dark Kiss

  Playing for Keeps

  Your Wicked Game

  Make Me Burn

  Make Me Shiver

  What He Wants (Submitting to the Billionaire)

  What He Demands (Submitting to the Billionaire 2)

  Sometimes freedom can only be gained through captivity…

  Elena Caine has secrets. The kind that could devastate her life if they’re revealed. And now a selfish bastard is dragging the skeletons out of her closet. She’s being blackmailed. There’s no way out. Then the quietly seductive Dom Kyler Pierce decides to blackmail her too. As Kyler and Elena face their common enemy, overpowering sexual heat sizzles between them. They want each other. Need each other. But happiness may be beyond their reach. For this determined Dom and reluctant submissive to have any chance at love, Elena must learn the most essential lesson of Dominance and submission—to trust her Dom. Especially when she is on her knees…and her world is tumbling down around her.

  (Previously published as Blackmailed)

  Length: Long novella, approx. 30,000 words

  SAMPLE

  “Will you tell me why you’re so angry?”

  He looked away.

  Her nerves crawling, she watched his throat work as he swallowed. Nothing.

  “You won’t give me a chance to explain?”

  “I don’t know if I can believe anything you say.”

  Where did that leave her? This man, whose eyes were cold as icicles, held her job in the palm of his hand. Her job, the medical insurance that paid for her brother’s treatment. Her entire future. She couldn’t get any more desperate than that. “What will it take to prove to you that I can be believed? I stayed. Right? You didn’t lock me in. You won the bet, and I didn’t leave, even though I wanted to.”

  “Yeah, well, that could also be because you didn’t want your pretty little ass hauled to jail.”

  “I’m not sure that would be any worse,” she said, frankly. “I mean, you’re throwing these threats around, acting one way one second, totally different the next. It’s confusing. Scary.”

  Her eyes were burning, darn it. Her nose. Don’t cry. He’ll think you’re trying to manipulate him.

  She blinked several times.

  His eyes narrowed, his gaze becoming even chillier. Sub-arctic. “There you go with the waterworks again. I see now. Whenever you get backed into a corner, you throw the switch, the tears start to flow, and you’re off the hook.” He crowded her, grabbed her chin, and glared into her eyes. “It doesn’t work with me anymore. I know the truth about you now. I know you’re fucking Matt Becker, and you’re itching for a promotion—from the whore of a sales manager to the whore of a vice president.”

  She felt sick. Was that really what he believed? “No, I’m not sleeping with Matt. You’re wrong.”

  “Funny.” He dragged his thumb over her lower lip. He walked her backward, until her back hit the wall. He thrust his arms forward, caging her head between them. “But if you’d just come to me, I’d have fucked you. You could’ve had your vice president. In fact…” He dropped his head and kissed her roughly. His tongue thrust into her mouth, in complete domination.

  Instantly, her body was on fire. Yes, this was what she’d wanted last night. Pulses of liquid heat pounded down her torso to the juncture of her thighs. Despite her confusion, she kissed him back, letting the searing heat of the kiss burn away everything.

  Insanity! This was complete craziness. But she couldn’t help reacting to his kisses. She’d been waiting, ready. She moaned, stroking his tongue with hers. Exploring the sweet depth of his mouth.

  He bent his elbows, crushing his hard body against hers. Wedged a knee between her trembling thighs.

  Crazy!

  She moaned, rocking her hips back and forth, desperate to rub away the ache building between her legs.

  He suckled her tongue and she slid her hands up his stomach, whimpering.

  Her head was swimming. Her body melting. Her brain short-circuiting. She was falling, sliding down the wall, unable to remain standing another second. Her pussy rested on his knee, a support. Oh, the sensation. The glory of that hard leg against her soft, swollen tissues.

  Insanity!

  He caught her up into his arms and carried her to the bed, laid her on it and then climbed over her. More of those amazing nuclear-reactor-hot kisses. He gave her more, and she accepted him, eagerly. His hands started at the sides of her face but—much to her joy—didn’t remain there for long. Down her neck they traveled, to her shoulders, lower. He cupped her breasts and she arched her back, pushing her breasts into his hands.

  I need to stop this. Right now. Stop. Now.

  She tried to turn her head, but he caught her face in his hands again, kissing her until she couldn’t move, didn’t want to move. Wanted nothing less than his hands on her naked body, his cock buried deep inside her wet pussy.

  She’d be sorry for this later, no doubt about it. But for the first time in years, she just wanted to forget about shoulds and should-nots and let go, follow her impulses instead of her head.

  Chapter One

  “Let me guess, after last weekend’s date with a bug-eyed, tentacled alien, you can’t stop fantasizing about octopi?”

  Elena Caine snapped to, realizing she’d been blindly staring down at a pan of…was that squid? Eww!

  “Huh?” She hurried down the Asian buffet, past steaming pans of fried rice, sweet and sour shrimp, and moo goo gai pan, following her best friend Ashley to a table in the corner of the restaurant. “No. Trust me, tentacles do nothing for me,” she joked. “But horns? Yum.” The contents of her jacket pocket bounced against her hip as she dodged a toddler in a high chair, reminding her why today had been the worst day of her life.

  She’d always thought politicians, judges, lawyers—those kinds of people—were the only ones who got blackmailed. People who were bad. Or had money. Or power.

  But your run of the mill office manager? With no money, no power? Not hardly.

  So why was she being blackmailed?

  “Earth to Elena. Are you with me? What is with you?” Ashley waved a hand in front of Elena’s nose. “I haven’t seen you this dazed since that party in college. Are you high?” At Elena�
��s fervent shake of the head, Ashley asked, “Sick? Or did you OD on allergy medicine again?”

  “Well…” Elena wanted to tell Ashley about the letter in her pocket. It was so tempting, but the jerk who’d sent it had warned her not to tell anyone. Not a single person. If she did, he claimed she’d be the immediate recipient of a pink slip. And a free ride downtown…in a police cruiser.

  Considering who she was dealing with, she believed him.

  The way she saw it, she had no choice but to play along with his twisted scheme. The jerk had done his homework, known she couldn’t afford to lose her job or risk going to jail. She certainly couldn’t go to the authorities, not when the bit of information he held over her head was so…sensitive.

  He had her by the so-called balls.

  Yep, worst day of her life.

  “Whooo hoooo? Gone on another trip, or are you still here with me?” Ashley, queen of exaggeration, waved her fork in the air.

  Elena knocked Ashley’s hand away. “I’m here. Just really tired. It’s been a hellacious week at work, and I’m ready to go home and go to bed.” She lifted her diet cola and took several swallows, trying to avoid eye contact with her best friend.

  She knew that look. Ashley was going to pry.

  Ashley shoved her plate away and dropped her wadded up napkin on the table. Her gaze was razor sharp and probing. “I’m worried about you.”

  “Don’t be.” Elena faked a smile.

  “You’re pale. I don’t think you’re just tired. What else is going on? Why won’t you tell me? Don’t you trust me? Is it your boss again? PMS? Your little brother?”

  The questions came fast and furious, like balls being spat from a pitching machine gone haywire, and Elena fielded them like a world-class ballplayer. Quickly and efficiently, expending as little effort as possible. One word answers. That was all Ashley got.

  Finally, Ashley gave up and went back to chattering about the new guy in the cubicle two down from hers. The one with the great butt and new ‘Vette.

  Pretending to listen, Elena picked at her dinner—what had made her decide the Chou Dofu was a good idea today? A little while later, Ashley heaved the sigh of the weary friend who felt neglected and did the little shooing motion she used on stray dogs and pigeons. “Go home and sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Okay. ‘Night.” Elena shrugged into her coat, dug her keys out of the bottom of her purse, gave her friend a quick hug and hurried out to her car, one hand in her pocket, her fingers curled around that damn letter.

  It was dark outside already—she hated fall! The restaurant’s parking lot was murky and slushy, thanks to an early snow. It wasn’t even Thanksgiving yet and already they’d had their first heavy snowfall of the year. Winter was bearing down on Michigan like a frigid white demon. She slipped and slid to the back where she’d parked. Unlocked her door, flung her purse onto the passenger seat, climbed in and cranked the engine. It started with a sputter and cough, threatening to stall. Like its owner, her ancient Volkswagen hated the cold.

  Elena hit the gas and flipped on the heater, shivering and cursing her temperamental vehicle for making her freeze her butt off while it warmed up.

  As she pulled the letter from her pocket to reread it for the bazillionth time, the passenger side door swung open. Assuming it was Ashley coming to keep her company—aka harass her some more—while she waited, she stuffed the letter back into her pocket and pulled her purse off the seat, depositing it on floor. But the body that slid into the seat was not Ashley’s. It wasn’t even female.

  Oh God. “Kyler? Hi.” Could it be a coincidence that the extremely attractive man on receiving end of her blackmailing jerk’s devious plan had just plopped into her front seat? In a dark restaurant parking lot? Probably not but she could always hope.

  Then again, they’d shared quite a few looks in the office the past few weeks. Whether she was hallucinating or hopeful, she sensed there was some chemistry between them. Maybe he had been in the restaurant and she hadn’t noticed, and he’d been dying to talk to her about…something…and he’d seen his opportunity…

  Okay, so she was really reaching. The expression on his face wasn’t exactly screaming Hey baby. Nope. More like, You bitch.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  His smile wasn’t even close to genuine. “I thought this would be the perfect place for a chat.”

  She was chilled before but now she felt like a human icicle. Maybe this was his way of asking a girl out? If that was the case, his brand of seduction bordered on creepy.

  “Well, I’m really flattered you wanted some private time, went to all the trouble of tracking me down in a dark parking lot.” Yikes! “But I’m not feeling very well and now’s not a good time, so couldn’t we continue—”

  He planted one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the headrest of her seat, basically caging her in with his arms. “Now. Is. The. Per-fect. Time.” He enunciated every single syllable.

  “Okayyyy. So what do you want to talk about?” she asked, shooting for a casual tone as she ground the back of her head into the headrest.

  Strangely, as she sat there, concentrating on regularly inhaling and exhaling, she couldn’t help but be aware of how good looking Kyler Pierce, VP of Sales and Marketing, was. There was good reason why every single female in the company, married or not, lusted after the man, at least a little. But she would never have expected him to make her so incredibly hot when he was more or less holding her hostage.

  A part of her thrilled at the thorough once-over he was giving her right now. He had the most amazing eyes and smelled sooooo good. And his mouth. Perfect lips.

  He inched a smidge closer. “I know what Matt’s up to.”

  Her stomach dropped to her toes. Crap! Now what? Beg forgiveness and hope he could somehow dig her out of this mess? But that would require her telling him everything.

  Oh God! She couldn’t!

  “I don’t know what you mean. Up to? Isn’t Matt always ‘up to’ something? I wouldn’t think that would be worthy of wandering around in a dark parking lot—”

  “It most definitely is.” He inched back a bit. Not enough in her opinion, but a little. She was grateful. “What’s he got on you?”

  “Me? Nothing.” Her face flamed, totally giving away her guilt.

  “Then why are you going along with it?”

  “With what?” She was an absolutely terrible actress. The worst. But sadly, she couldn’t give up the act.

  Anger flared in his deep blue eyes, the shade of a night sky. He slammed his fists against her seat, one next to her shoulder, the other down closer to her waist, and she froze. The breath she’d just managed to suck in blasted up her throat.

  She’d known Matt was playing uber-dirty, that the eventual outcome would mean the worst for Kyler—the loss of his job. A position that probably paid a lot. But did that give the man any right to bodily threaten her?

  No. But she still had no idea what she could—or would—do about it.

  She wanted to cry. She was trapped between these two power-hungry, manipulative jerks, out to ruin each other. And it was so unfair! She was just the office manager. The girl who filed their paperwork and answered their phones. She shouldn’t be ducking punches and evading blackmail threats.

  If only she had a way out of this!

  She felt her eyes filling with hot tears. Her nose burned. She blinked, focusing her gaze on the radio’s display, the glowing numbers blurring as the tears built up. She dragged a hand across her eyes and waited for him to say something. She wasn’t going to speak. She couldn’t.

  “Fuck,” he grumbled.

  She’d agree with that sentiment.

  Kyler inched back a little more. “Don’t cry. I can’t stand it when women cry.”

  “Believe me, I’m trying not to.” Still staring at the radio, she sniffled, wiping some of the annoying wetness from her eyes again.

  “That fucking bastard.”

 
; She’d agree with that sentiment too.

  He turned, slumping back against the passenger seat, and she inhaled her first full breath in ages.

  What now? The silent but vulnerable thing seemed to be working for her. Kind of. No sense switching gears now.

  “His plan won’t work without you.” Kyler seemed to be thinking aloud. Thus, she didn’t comment, just let him continue following his train of thought. “So, if you aren’t there to help him, he’s SOL.”

  Sounded like a good plan to her, but what exactly did that mean? If she didn’t show up to work on Monday morning, as planned, and plant the evidence he was supposed to deliver to her this weekend, Matt Becker was taking the proof he had about her to Human Resources…and the entire board of directors…

  And the police.

  * * * * *

  Kyler wanted to punch something—no, someone. That fucking shithead, Matt Becker, that’s who he wanted to beat.

  Using the office girl. The adorable, sweet and very proficient office girl. Manipulating her. Not only was it illegal but it was low. Showed exactly what kind of guy Becker was.

  Competitive, Kyler could respect. Coldhearted criminal, he could not.

  Sad thing was, if a friend hadn’t tipped him off, Becker’s scheme would’ve worked, and he would’ve found himself without a job within a couple of weeks, regardless of the ten years of hard work he’d put in with this company. A flawless record and sixty percent growth in sales since he became VP wouldn’t save him. He’d lived and breathed that fucking place to get it to where it was. Becker was not taking that away from him.

  He sensed Elena was being forced to go along with Becker’s plan, but she wasn’t talking. Why? If he were in her shoes, he’d have spilled. VP of Marketing and Sales trumped Becker’s Regional Sales Manager. She should be grateful and relieved that he’d found out, telling him everything and letting him clean up whatever mess Becker had already started making.

  Instead she was sitting there crying. Not that she was blubbering and bawling. No, she was sniffling daintily, little chin quivering, and swiping at tears seeping from a set of pretty brown eyes that were wide and innocent and wary.