Explicitly Yours Series

by Jessica Hawkins

  “I want to celebrate,” he continued. “But I have no one. I’m alone. So I walk into a strip club looking for anybody, but I see this girl on stage with long, black hair and kitten ears on her head—furry black triangles. She looks over her shoulder and directly at me with the bluest eyes. She’s got this body men kill for and is wearing a fucking—are you still with me?” He gestured up and down at her. “It looks like a bikini made of goddamn diamonds. It’s so bright, it almost blinds me when the spotlight is on her. She’s the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen. I have to have her. Her.” He pointed into the distance. “That one. I pay for Cat Shoppe’s most expensive room. I pay to see her dance, for her attention. She gets so close to me that our legs touch, even though that isn’t allowed. She’s flirting. I tell her I need her—I’ll do anything, pay anything for her. I offer her a grand, but she shakes her head. Five grand. She just smiles. Ten thousand dollars. She looks me right in my eyes, bats her lashes like a little cunt and says—”

  “I’m not for sale,” Lola whispered.

  “That’s right,” he said. “But you were wrong, weren’t you?”

  Lola wavered on her legs, reaching back to steady herself on the mattress. She narrowed her eyes on him, recalling the young, handsome man from that night. “That was you at Cat Shoppe.” Her entire body shook. “You knew who I was on the sidewalk at Hey Joe?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why? Why are you doing this?”

  “You thought you were too good for money I broke my back to earn. Because you couldn’t give me that one fucking thing on the most important night of my life. Because—” He faltered, leveling his eyes on her.

  For a brief second, he looked as pained as she felt. The whole thing was made even more shocking by the fact that there were depths to him she hadn’t even scratched.

  He’d earned that money so he would be enough. So nobody could turn him down or walk away from him, because in his eyes, everybody had a price. Perhaps he was right. She’d once thought she could never be bought, no matter the amount.

  “I hurt you,” she said, hating the break in her voice.

  The pained look vanished. “I promised myself nobody would ever make me feel that way again. There would be nothing my money couldn’t buy. And then there you were again out front of Hey Joe, just as beautiful as that night ten years ago. It was like no time had passed. And when you returned my tip and insisted there was no connection between us, I was just as weak.” He splayed his hands over his chest. “You’re the only person who does this to me, Lola. You’re a threat to everything I’ve worked for.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not a threat. I didn’t hurt you on purpose. You...you can’t do this.”

  “It’s done. I’ve proven anything can be bought. Today, I get back the power you took from me.”

  “I am not a thing to be overcome. I’m a person.” She clutched her throat. Her skin was burning. “If this were true, you would’ve told me after the first night.”

  “I tried, believe me.” He crossed his arms. “But you, so stubborn, had to go and say that buying someone’s body didn’t count. It had to be their heart.” He hesitated only a moment, but he’d gone too far down whatever path he was on. He couldn’t seem to stop himself, even as Lola’s heart broke right in front of him. “I was going to end it there, but you wanted to play. And as you know, I’m not one to turn down a challenge. She thinks her heart isn’t for sale? I’ll buy that too, I thought. You only have yourself to blame for loving me.”

  A challenge. That’s what this had been about. Conquering her, teaching her a lesson, winning a game. He’d been dropping hints along the way, most likely for his own amusement. “Fuck you,” she uttered. “You think my life is a game?”

  He uncrossed his arms and ran both hands along the bridge of his nose. “It was until it wasn’t. I realized tonight, with you in my arms, telling me you love me, how wrong I’ve been. But I promise you, from the first minute, I meant everything I said, Lola. I never lied about how I felt. I want you—”

  She scrambled back so fast when he reached for her that she landed on the bed. “Don’t you dare fucking touch me.”

  He grabbed the comforter on both sides of her and pulled it, sliding her back toward him. He jerked her to her feet by her biceps. “You want to test me? You’ll lose. Want to fucking run away from me? You can’t. Fight me all you want.” He kissed her hard. “Hurt me. I can take it. But you can’t outrun me. You’re strong, but you’re not strong enough to take me on. You might as well give in.”

  Her knees threatened to buckle. There was undiluted pain and frustration in his voice. He loved her, even if he couldn’t say it. She loved him. And she’d never wanted to hurt anyone worse in her life. She looked him in the eye and said, “I want my money.”

  It took a moment for anything to register on his face. His mouth parted. “Your money?”

  She had to fight not to look away from him. He’d hurt her, and words were all she had. She struggled to push him off. “That’s all you’re good for. All I am is my pussy and all you are is your money. So give it to me so I can go.”

  He tightened his grip. “That’s not true, and you know it. That isn’t what we are.”

  She dug deeper. Sank her claws into her pain. What he’d done deserved her worst. “Go buy some more people, and get the fuck out of my life. Build your empire and run it all by yourself. Alone. No matter how much money you spend, you will never have me, and you and I will never have what Johnny and I do.”

  He tilted his head with a jerk as if his lid were about to fly off. “Liar. Earlier you said—”

  “Earlier I was hysterical,” she spat. “I thought I was going to die. I don’t even know what I was saying. I love Johnny, and I just want to go home to him.”

  He raised his chin, looking down at her. His jaw worked back and forth as he breathed through his nose. He pushed her backward hard and stormed to the closet. Her chest stuttered viciously as if collapsing in on itself. She wanted to run away from him and to him in equal parts. She needed to believe in his arms around her, but every time he’d touched her, it was a lie. It was to get something from her—not just something, but the most valuable thing she had to give. Her heart.

  He reappeared with a brown package like the one he’d brought to her apartment the night before. “Here’s the other five hundred grand,” he said, tossing it. It landed with a heavy thump at her feet. “Now get the fuck out.”

  She only needed to be strong long enough to leave that presidential suite in one piece. The money was heavier than she expected, and she had to heave it from the floor into her arms. She walked right up to him, standing under his nose. “Coward. There’s a reason you had to have me that night and a reason you’re still thinking about me ten years later, and it wasn’t to win some stupid game.”

  “You’re probably right. And it’s the same reason you’re still standing here when I told you to leave.”

  She gripped the package until her fingers hurt. “You could’ve had me without the money,” she said. “You could’ve come back for me, but you were too scared to even try. Now you’ve lost me. I took your power, and that means you’ve lost your game.”

  He didn’t shy away from her anger. His green eyes fixed on her, the thick of the forest, the dark, inconceivable pit. He was a monster, but a beautiful one with his sharp, dimpled chin and mussed coffee-bean hair. If only, with his confession, he’d also been forced to shed the mask he’d used to lure her in.

  “You’re wrong. I haven’t lost anything,” he said. “Because I’m not the one who fell in love.”

  “Yes, you did. I want to hear you say it. You made me say it, you fucking coward. Now you say it.”

  “You will never hear me say it,” he said. “Get out.”

  He might as well have slapped her. She almost wished he had, because at least then she’d be able to feel her pain in a physical way, instead of as a gaping hole in her chest. “You can thank Brigitte for me. She sa
ved me from making the biggest mistake of my life.”

  Lola left the suite. She had somewhere to be and not long now to get there.

  But she wasn’t finished with Beau. He’d committed the greatest crime there was—he’d played with love. And nobody should ever be able to get away with that.

  He’d made mistakes, thinking she hadn’t been paying attention, but she had. He’d exposed his weakness to her and handed her the weapon she needed.

  He survived on power—she would take it from him.

  He was in love with her—she would use that to do it.

  As she rode the elevator down to the ground floor, she made a decision. Somehow, some way, Beau would get what he deserved. She would break him too, and she’d do it without the mercy he’d tried to afford her. He’d hidden behind his money so long, he’d never let anyone close enough to hurt him. Except for her. She was there. She was certain that he loved her—and that he’d come to regret it.

  She wasn’t sure how.

  She wasn’t sure when.

  She only knew one thing.

  Beau Olivier would be sorry he’d ever laid eyes on her.

  Afterword

  Thank you for reading Domination, book two in the Explicitly Yours Series. Keep clicking to continue on to Provocation (Explicitly Yours 3).

  Provocation

  Explicitly Yours 3

  * * *

  For Beau Olivier, control is everything. He thought getting his power back from Lola Winters meant he’d won the game, but all he did was teach her how to play. Now, Lola’s ready to take on the master himself, and only she knows the rules.

  * * *

  In order for Lola to get close enough to hurt him, she has to love him. It won’t be easy to love the devil, but it will be worth it—if it means sending him to hell where he belongs.

  1

  Present day

  Lola’s heels clicked against the hallway’s hardwood floors like the countdown of a ticking time bomb. Windows lined one side, and the rising sun striped the opposite wall with sharp-cornered shadows. The house, square between the curves of the Hollywood Hills, was renowned for its modern design. But Lola didn’t see the appeal in a home that echoed her every move. To her, it was a shell—beautiful on the outside, hollow on the inside. Just like its owner.

  She crossed the foyer on her way to the kitchen. At the entryway table, under the garish Montgolfier chandelier, she stopped to center a vase of Calla lilies—amongst such perfection, the slightest flaw glared. She slid a flower out of the arrangement and dragged her fingertip up its stem, bending it nearly to the point of snapping. Even the house’s feminine touches were stiff. Lola had once loved Calla lilies, especially the purple-hearted ones like this that were edged in white. But she’d learned to be wary of anything that thrived in such barren surroundings.

  “You’re up early,” she heard from behind her.

  Lola replaced the flower, slipping it back into its spot, and turned around. Beau leaned in the doorway, his suit straight and sharp, a newspaper folded under his arm.

  She went to him. “I wanted to say good morning before you left.”

  He checked his watch. “By the skin of your teeth.”

  She smiled thinly. Beau was punctual. That was no surprise. But when she’d fantasized about spending a morning with him, it hadn’t been anything like this—scrounging for extra minutes. Not that it really mattered.

  She put slinky arms around his neck, drew his head down to hers. “Are you hungry? I can make you something quick.”

  “What do you think?” His voice deepened as he rested a hand on her lower back, at the base of her zipper. “I’m a man who hasn’t eaten in almost three weeks.”

  Lola lingered a moment, their mouths close, prolonging a kiss that wasn’t just a kiss. It was a sneak preview. A tease. A warning. She pressed her lips to his like a woman who didn’t want her boyfriend to walk out the door. Like a woman in love.

  When she pulled away, one corner of Beau’s mouth curved into a smile. “Wow. Careful, or I won’t be held responsible for breaking your rules.”

  She shrugged and fixed his tie, even though it was perfectly straight. “I’ve been thinking—about us.” She glanced up at him from under her lashes. “About the rules.”

  He took a handful of her backside. “Probably not as much as I have.”

  “I’m ready, Beau. Tonight.”

  His expression didn’t change, but she caught the slight twitch of his eye. “Don’t tease me,” he said. “It wouldn’t be wise to put chocolate cake in front of a starving man.”

  Lola removed her arms to take his cheeks in her hands. “I know it’s been difficult these past three weeks—”

  “Two and a half.”

  This time, Lola flinched. As if she needed a reminder of how dangerous it could be to let her guard down for even a second. She ignored the comment. “You’ve been patient,” she continued. “I haven’t forgotten anything, but I’m ready to start moving forward.”

  With his hand on her ass, Beau pulled her against him, forcing her feet to shuffle forward the last few inches. “Why wait until tonight? I can be a couple minutes late.”

  Lola’s heart hammered once, the way it always did when Beau got like this—impatient. He could be convincing in a way that was hard for her to resist, but she had to. Giving in to him now could unravel everything. “I want it to be special—not in the doorway on your way to work. You can survive until tonight.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” he said. “I’ve never slept next to the same woman this many nights in a row without so much as a handjob. It’s miraculous I’m still upright.”

  Lola shook her head but smiled. “You are a true romantic, Mr. Olivier. I’m a lucky woman.”

  He put his knuckle under her chin to keep her eyes on him. “I’m the lucky one.”

  “Are you?” The words came out of her mouth too fast. Now, around him, she filtered everything. But today was a day she’d been anticipating for a while, and that alone was a reason to be even more careful.

  Along with excitement came a tiny crack of doubt inside her, though. It was silly. She knew how Beau felt. He was happy she was there, even if he wasn’t around all the time. He loved her, despite the fact that he hadn’t told her. He didn’t always show it, but she was his priority. She had to believe those things were true, because if not, then all this had been for nothing.

  “Am I lucky?” he asked. “I’ve been given a second chance I didn’t deserve. I thought I had it all, Lola, but I was coming home to an empty house. I just didn’t realize that was a bad thing until I started coming home to you. I’m a lucky son of a bitch. And I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”

  She glanced away, but only for a second—it was a telling habit she’d been trying to kick. Beau didn’t consider himself romantic. Lola disagreed. The rest of the world could keep their flowers and candy. For her, Beau was taking a dull hammer to his brick walls, a slow process, but one that meant more to her than anything money could buy. It still wasn’t enough.

  Despite fighting herself every waking moment, she loved him. She couldn’t have faked all the things she had without that. When he’d broken her heart, though, she’d buried that love—and she threw more dirt on it every day. Because Lola wasn’t happy. And if Beau thought she was, then he didn’t know her at all.

  “I should get to the office,” he said when she didn’t respond. “The sooner this day is over, the sooner I’ll be home with you.”

  Beau was sweeter in the morning, before the day had gotten to him. She didn’t doubt he meant what he said, but during the week, he only came home at a decent time when they had an event to attend. Those nights, he was always standing too close, touching her somewhere, as if assuring himself she was real.

  “Be home by seven o’clock.” She didn’t smile. She crossed her arms, tapping her index finger on her bicep. “And I don’t mean leave work at seven. We have a reservation at seven-thirty.”

 
“We do?”

  “I told you last week I was making dinner plans and not to schedule anything.”

  “If I did, I’ll cancel it. Now that I know what’s in store for tonight.” He tucked some of her hair behind her ear. She knew the low-lidded look he was giving her well—she got it several times a day. She’d asked him once what he was thinking about when he made that expression, and he’d just said, “Us.”

  “Listen—why don’t you let my assistant handle tonight?” he asked. “Pick any restaurant, I don’t care how exclusive. She’ll make it happen. I want the best for…”

  Lola stopped listening, pressing her lips together, her jaw tingling. She wanted to ask him what the hell made him think she’d prefer an expensive restaurant to anything else. Hell, an In-N-Out burger and a chocolate shake was enough to make her mouth water. Despite the staggering amount of cash she had stashed in a locker downtown, she was still the same Lola who wore beat-up Converse and regularly chose beer over wine.

  “You surprised me with balcony seats to the ballet last week,” Lola said, interrupting whatever he was saying. “I want to return the favor.”

  Beau arched an eyebrow. “It’s a surprise?”

  She smoothed her hand over his tie. “You’re always in charge. Just relax. Let me do this for you.”

  “I like being in charge.”

  With the drop in his tone, an unexpected thrill ran up her spine. If Beau did one thing well, it was taking charge. That was how she’d ended up on her stomach on his hotel bed their second night together, letting him have her in ways Johnny hadn’t in their nine years together. It was also the reason she had to be on alert at all times.