Surrender To Me (Surrender Trilogy Book 2)

by Raven J. Spencer

  “I told you I wasn’t…”

  “Yeah, that’s the story anyway. You know, Ryan and I dreamed about what it would be like once we’d paid of the house and it would be all ours. It was going to take a long time. We didn’t mind. Now, this is something that feels too good to be true. I want to be grateful, but…I don’t know.”

  “Please accept it. I can imagine what it looks like to you, but I assure you, it’s not like that—and I am happy. You shouldn’t doubt that. There’s nothing wrong with accepting this gift.”

  “Do you mind?”

  We both turn around to see Muriel standing in the doorway. She has obviously decided that the window of leaving me alone for a moment has been big enough.

  “Whatever,” I say, and we turn our conversation back to the subject matter, book boyfriends and manipulative lesbians. That’s the beauty of fiction, it’s contained within the story, the book, it stays with you for a while, but remains in context. Real life is a lot more complicated. There are really so many shades of grey. I refuse to think it’s even a possibility, that I’m nothing more to Carter than an additional, new thrill, that she took illegal measures to save me just to find out if she could.

  It’s not true.

  * * * *

  I almost forgot about the little gift, but when we have breakfast the next morning, Carter hasn’t. I’m intrigued and a bit concerned—will I be able to concentrate at all?

  “Just give it a try,” she advises. “If you don’t like it, that’s okay.”

  “I’d like to try.” That wouldn’t be like me, to say no to something she suggests. I was hardly able to resist her in those days when I couldn’t be sure about her motivation. Now, as long as I’m able to define the boundaries of my own identity, I’m willing to give everything to her. For better or worse. “How are we going to do this?”

  Her smile, as usual, is not just warming my heart. Moments like this, all the conflicts, Haley, Jimmy, Colette, seem far away. When it’s just us, everything is easy and clear.

  “I’ll help you when you’re ready to go. I promise you it won’t keep you from doing your work. However, it can make your orgasms more intense.”

  Cheeks burning, I chuckle. “I’m not sure I could deal with that.”

  “We’ll see,” she says, amused. “I’ll check on you at lunchtime.”

  “Whatever that means. I guess I’ll find out.”

  I’m glad about the lighter tone. That means everything is going to work out, Colette is going to heal, and the man who took her will be brought to justice. My friends will eventually understand that I’m not suffering from a delayed Stockholm syndrome…We can be happy.

  Carter waits for me, sitting on the side of the bed when I come out of the master bathroom, excited for what she has planned for me. I have no idea what to expect—we play with different elements, a bit of bondage, the occasional toy, but this is new.

  “Don’t get my clothes wrinkly,” I warn her when she gives me a gentle push.

  “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”

  The fleeting thought of how many women she might have done this to, passes my mind. It’s silly. She married me.

  “And don’t take to long either, I don’t want to be late.”

  “A bit bossy today, aren’t we?”

  “Look who’s talking.”

  I lean back, my thighs falling open, relaxing into the warm touch of fingers probing carefully. Or I could just forget about the workday and…I gasp as her fingers enter, making sure I’m ready. I so am. She coats the curious objects with a lubricant, unhurried and calm as if this was something completely ordinary, then inserts one at a time. Her fingertips brush my sex in a tender, tantalizing gesture, then she gets to her feet.

  “That’s it?”

  She looks at me with some regret. “Believe me, I’d love to do a lot more, but I don’t have time this morning. You’re good to go. I’ll see you around lunchtime, okay?” Carter leans down to kiss me, and then I get up too. It’s strange, I would have expected more of a sensation…I’ll give it a chance though. On the bright side, this is clearly not something that will keep me from getting work done.

  Or so I thought.

  I’m not overly aware of the hearts until Traci sends me to get some files from another office. One of the hearts is slightly bigger so it stays in place. The other one is smaller, and as I hurry along the hallway to get those files, I can feel it moving slightly. Thought and sensation merge, producing a warm liquid jolt, and I hold on to the filing cabinet for a moment. Wow. I didn’t expect that. Carter neglected to tell me that in motion, the intensity increases. I take a moment out of my workday fantasizing what her plans might be for the lunch break, and then I head back to my desk before I get all drawn in. However, I’m quick to offer going on a coffee run when Traci is jonesing for a specialty coffee later. Walking on the sidewalk among the people rushing along, who have no idea about my naughty little secret, I’m excited. Who would have ever thought that this kind of life was waiting for Penny Elliot?

  Carter comes by around noon, chats with Traci, then asks for a moment of privacy and draws the blinds. Breathless with desire, I can’t help shaking my head at how everyone is so used to do whatever she says, without ever questioning it. I’m not sure if Traci planned to have her lunch break right now, but she will.

  “How’s your day so far?” Carter asks me, eying the room as if looking for the best possible surface to…

  “Pretty good,” I say. “Okay. What do you want me to do?”

  “Oh, that’s a long list, but we don’t have time for all of it at this moment. Did you like the beads?”

  “You have yet to come up with something I don’t like.”

  She laughs. “You’re insatiable. Let’s see.”

  A moment later, I’m sprawled on my desk and certain I can never again look at Traci with a straight face, as Carter carefully removes the beads, my body clenching in reaction. Calm down, I tell myself. I still have half the workday to go before we can do anything about this.

  “Stay where you are,” Carter says when I’m moving to get up. “You didn’t think I’d leave you hanging like this? I’m not that cruel.”

  “I never said you were…”

  I’d been hoping that’s what she meant when she talked about checking on me. Here’s my office sex fantasy coming true. I really want to make it last, but when I feel her mouth on me, it’s an inevitable chain reaction, the heat and the anticipation too much. I shudder, my hands flailing as each brush of her tongue pushes me higher towards a deep, mind-blowing climax. For long moments, I’m too shaky to even think about getting up, and I’m not in a hurry with her soft touch easing me back to reality. I know that was not her intention, but the second half of the workday will be even harder now. I finally sit up, and she wraps her arms around me. “I love you,” she whispers.

  “I know. I love you too.”

  It seems like there’s something left unsaid, but Carter doesn’t elaborate. Instead, she takes the beads to the bathroom where she washes them carefully with soap and a disinfectant from a small bottle. I feel calm and serene just watching her do this. I am so blessed I found her.

  “Will you be home for dinner?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ll let you know.”

  “Okay then. Thanks for…spending lunch break with me.”

  That makes us both laugh for some reason. “Okay, hurry up,” I say. “We should actually eat some food before Traci comes back.”

  “Sure,” Carter says, but I’m almost certain her mind is on something else. I’ll have to ask her later.

  Chapter Twelve

  Carter

  In the end, it all happens very fast. A tip at the right time, a call, and when Cole Baxter silently creeps across the green grass towards the back door, he’s surprised to find a gun poking his back.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I tell him, and he raises his arms, the tension unmistakable. I know he’s going to try somethin
g, and I’m ready for it. When he swings around, I kick him, hard, in a painful place, keeping the weapon trained on him.

  “No, that’s not how it’s going to work. We have some questions for you.”

  “You’re not the fucking police,” he wheezes, as if that made a difference. Come to think of it, he’s right, it will make a big difference for him.

  “That’s right, we’re not, too bad for you.”

  Nick finally appears. “Nice to have some backup,” I mutter, and he laughs. “I think you did fine by yourself. Ouch.” He’s wincing a bit in sympathy, such a typical male reaction, even though he knows Baxter deserved it, and more, for what he did to Colette.

  Baxter took the bait, thinking the book club would be at Haley’s house, so that’s where we went. The girls are at Lara’s tonight. We were waiting for him. I’m not going to have this pig within my own four walls, so we’ll be taking him to one of the warehouses. Eventually, we’ll send him off to Colette’s colleagues, but there’s something else to take care of first. I’ll wait until Nick has him tied up in the old jeep.

  As we drive, I remember what I know about Baxter, from Colette, from other sources. He could be quite charming if he wanted to, convincing runaways and other desperate young women that they could make a living, a killing even, easily, sending them into a perpetual nightmare of abuse, violence and sexual exploitation. No, there’s no reason to feel sorry for him, on the contrary, I think when we arrive and Nick produces the syringe with the clear fluid.

  “You’ll be okay here?” I ask.

  He’s not going to do anything without my okay, not yet, but Baxter doesn’t know that. I wonder if he feels fear now, like Colette when he broke down the door to her apartment.

  “Sure, we’ll be just fine,” Nick assures me, and I leave for home.

  I head straight for Colette’s room. She doesn’t really need the wheelchair anymore, but hasn’t done much in terms of trying to get around either. It will be some more time before the casts come off.

  “We found Baxter,” I tell her.

  She nods in acknowledgment. “Thanks for everything. I’m glad to know my colleagues will take care of him.”

  “About that…we thought this would be a good moment to find out more about how much of a network he still has. We have him in a warehouse now…I think you should be there for this.”

  Her eyes widen. “Are you crazy? You got him locked up somewhere? Carter, you need to stop doing these things.”

  “Let me rephrase this. I think you deserve to be there for this, see for yourself that he’s done.”

  I can tell there’s something changing in her demeanor, that she’s considering the options. “You remember who it is we’re talking about here, right? I promise you, no one’s going too far.”

  With some difficulties, she gets to her feet. “Okay then. Whatever you say.”

  “It will be all right. You’ll see.” I have to be certain of that. Men like him need to be stopped, at any cost, and I’ll do whatever I can to make sure he’ll never hurt anyone else, ever again.

  * * * *

  Baxter is quite cocky, even when tied to a chair and with a spotlight on him. He spits out in front of him, laughs when he sees Colette. What a despicable human being. It makes me feel a little better knowing that he’ll be behind bars with the rest of them soon, but there are too many Cole Baxters out there, and too many enabling men like him.

  “Don’t be stupid, Forbes,” he says. “We all know you wouldn’t get away with this. You can’t shoot me.”

  “Oh, I’m not going to shoot you,” I say, handing the gun to Colette. “Maybe she will, I don’t know. I don’t think anyone would actually blame her.”

  I can see a minute change in his stance, a flicker of fear in his expression. I am just a businesswoman crossing the occasional line, but he knows Colette, with the help of my lawyers, might be able to make this go away—either way. Not that it’s the plan to kill anyone, neither of us can afford to be involved in anything like that. He should suffer a bit though, for what he did to her. Right now, he can’t be sure what exactly is in store for him. They’re all the same, him, Laydon, the pretend agent who came to take Penelope away from me—they like the power and intimidation, hurting women, but they piss their pants when they find themselves on the other side of the equation. Violence is not the answer in the long run, maybe, but in some cases, it’s an acceptable interim solution. At least that’s what I’m telling myself. You can’t always take the higher road.

  Colette releases the safety on the gun and steps closer. I stand in the corner, watch him flinch. She sets the gun aside, staring at him in a silent standoff, before she throws the first punch—and another. She might not be that strong yet, but he has nowhere to go.

  She won’t go too far, but he doesn’t know that. Colette is safe. She can take care of herself, and there’s always Nick for backup, so there’s no actual need for me to be here. I feel like I have to, acknowledge and accept that not all goals can be reached with communication, that sometimes, you need to get your hands dirty. Metaphorically, of course, because there won’t be any blood on mine. Engaging with these kinds of people takes something out of you, but what else can you do? I refuse to just sit on my money, turn my back when it can make such a difference in the lives of others. I don’t feel guilty about it either.

  That doesn’t mean I feel too good right now. I can’t wait to be home with Penelope, put this behind me and plan our real honeymoon.

  Once Colette is okay to stay by herself, this will all be over—right?

  Penelope isn’t home when I arrive. Marlene tells me that she went out after book club, to meet some friends. Who could that be? Haley and Lara are in the club. Someone from her study group? The club usually runs late, so she comes home after, if it’s not in our house. Why couldn’t she leave a detailed message so I wouldn’t have to track her phone? I tried to be happy and playful, distract us both when I knew we were getting close to Baxter…Now, nerves get the better of me, and I’m freaking out. There are people out there who want to hurt me, and they know that getting to Penelope is the fastest way to do it. Is Muriel even with her?

  What am I paying these people for anyway?

  I take a deep breath, take another look at the location my phone screen tells me, a bar downtown. Maybe it’s not so much the actions of bad people I fear, but the thought that she could pull away one day, the day she knows the real me. I need her with me. The haze clears a little as I form a plan. I change into more comfortable clothes too. There’s nothing conspicuous on mine, but the office gear is not exactly the right outfit for the place where Penelope is hanging out with her friends.

  When I come down to the garage, the Mercedes sits in its spot. She did what, take a bus? Why? That means she might be drinking.

  There’s somewhere I should be right now, and once we’re back home, everything will be better, and we’ll be able to move on from this temporary detour. There was a time when I thought there were places I couldn’t go, and feelings I couldn’t have, and you can live with that when you have everything money can buy…Penelope changed all that.

  I take the Mercedes and leave for downtown. There’s less traffic at this time of night, and I make the drive in about fifteen minutes. The car is a dream to drive, smooth, easy to navigate. Why didn’t she take it? I wonder if she still is uncomfortable with the gift, and how much longer it will take her to understand that it’s okay to accept this one, and others, and that we’re not stealing from anybody.

  I will do my best to make her understand.

  The bouncer, a tall athletic woman wearing her blonde hair in a ponytail is giving me the eye when I enter the bar. Interest or jealousy, it’s hard to tell, but I don’t have the time or desire to explore that question.

  I find Penelope at a table in the back, with two other women. All of them have wine glasses in front of them. It doesn’t exactly look like a drinking binge, but for me, there is an urgency about this situation.<
br />
  Colette is back home, safe and sound. Nick will hand Baxter over to the authorities and make sure none of us will get into any trouble. My lawyers are on the case, preparing for every possible scenario.

  I need to feel safe too.

  “Carter,” Penelope says, surprised. “I thought you’d still be working…Marlene told me you’d be home late, so I met with friends from school after book club. Angie and Melissa—this is my wife Carter.”

  “Hi, nice to meet you,” I say, and they return similar pleasantries. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but Penelope, I need to talk to you.”

  “Did something happen?”

  I’m sorry for scaring her, but there’s no way I can explain in front of the other women. “Nothing bad. If you could…”

  “Of course.”

  She takes out her wallet and places a few bills on the table. “I’ll see you next week. Good night.”

  I grasp her hand tightly as we leave the bar, aware of the bouncer observing the scene with a wry grin. Penelope follows me without any protest or argument until we sit in the car.

  “Are you going to tell me what this is all about?” she asks. “Because frankly, I have no idea.”

  “We found Baxter,” I say, gripping the steering wheel tightly as I pull out of the parking lot.

  “Oh. Okay. That’s good news?”

  “It is. He’ll give up his contacts, no doubts. Nick is handing him over to the police as we speak.”

  She mulls this over for a moment. Penelope has learned within a short time that life with me isn’t that uncomplicated, that there’s always more. I wonder how I can explain, any of it, what happened earlier today and the chaos it has left in my mind. Colette deserved this moment, I am sure of that. On the other hand, I wish we lived in a world where men like Baxter didn’t exist to begin with. You get involved in any way, play on their level, they leave an ugly stain you can’t get rid of.

  “Is there anything else you want to tell me?” Penelope finally asks.

  I don’t know if words can make a difference, however, the woman next to me is everything that is right with the world, untainted in a way I cherish and envy at the same time. If only we were already home.