by Measha Stone
The project should have been simple, a brochure for Sean’s floor and tile store. However, Sean didn’t seem to know what he wanted. She could relate to that.
She’d been going back and forth about the house, Bradley, and the mysterious letter that had been delivered. Too many decisions at one time, and her mind was running on fumes. Sean only made the fog heavier. “Bolder. Got it. I’ll get a new proof to you by tomorrow.”
With a nod, he walked out of her small office, which she would swear at one time probably served as the broom closet. She plopped down in her chair and rubbed her temples. The pain in her head wouldn’t ease up, even after three doses of aspirin and several cups of coffee.
“Hey, there.” Brenda, her assistant, walked in carrying a large envelope. “This was just dropped off for you at the desk downstairs.”
Erin thanked her and took it from her. She recognized the handwriting right away. “Brenda? Did anyone notice the person who dropped it off?”
“It was weird. Charlie said some kid walked into the lobby and gave it to him. The kid couldn’t have been more than twelve Charlie said.” Brenda shrugged, and fiddled with the earpiece in her ear. She pressed the button and walked out of the office answering the call.
Erin looked down at the envelope and sighed. She still hadn’t decided what to do, and the situation just continued to barrel down at her. Sliding her envelope opener through the crease, she held her breath.
One piece of paper. No photographs this time.
On his home computer you will find his financial portfolio. Copy this file and have it ready by Saturday. I will contact you with further instructions about the drop.
Her phone danced on the top of her work desk, making her jump. She glanced at her screen. Bradley. It was a simple question: would she be home for dinner. She needed to tell him about these letters. It involved him, it would be the right thing to do. Responding that she’d try, she turned her phone off and tucked it into her back pocket. She needed to think, to process everything.
“Jonathan’s on line one for you, are you in?” Brenda’s voice broke through the phone speaker.
“No.” Erin hadn’t meant to shout, but there really was only so much a person could handle at one time. Deciding she needed to get some fresh air, she grabbed her purse and headed out. She informed Brenda she would be gone for the afternoon and made her way out onto Michigan Avenue. She eyed a salon that she’d been debating on trying for some time, and made the decision to go for it. She’d deal with everything else later.
*
The spa appointment took a lot longer than she’d planned. At first she’d been glad they had a cancellation and could fit her in as a walk in. Instead of just getting her haircut, she decided to go all out and had a massage as well. She ignored the time, and by the time she was done being all gussied up, it was well past six. Bradley would be home way before her at that rate.
He’d taken to doing most of his work during the day, and going into the club for only a few short hours at night. If at all. When the cab pulled up to the front door of his house, she could feel the tension seeping out of the house. George walked out of the garage and gave her a pointed look as she thanked the cab driver.
“It was faster to grab a cab.”
The older man raised his eyebrows and nodded toward the door. “Faster, or easier? Taking a cab didn’t require you making a phone call to him, and that’s what you were trying to avoid.” She stared at him for a moment deliberating on his mind reading skills.
“Is he angry?” She adjusted her purse on her shoulder and looked toward the closed door. New flower pots had been placed on the steps leading up to the house, she noticed. All of her favorites were in each pot.
“He is rarely angry, Miss Erin.” George turned to go back into the garage. “Your new hairstyle is very becoming by the way,” he called over his shoulder as he disappeared through the door.
With a shaky breath she stepped up the last two stairs and slid her key into the door. Bradley had insisted she have one for the week. Everything seemed to be moving so fast with him. The initial idea of a weekend fling had morphed into a week-long fling, and the idea of leaving him soon still didn’t sit well with her. She kept hoping to get him out of her system, but he sat in her thoughts all day long. Spending the night away from him the previous night hadn’t settled her nerves like she had hoped. It only made her more on edge, and restless because he wasn’t nestled in bed with her, pulling her to his body and covering her with his heavy arms and firm legs.
She needed to tell him about the letters. First thing. He deserved to know.
Pizza. He’d ordered pizza for dinner. She groaned inwardly, making her way to the kitchen. One of her favorite things to do was to make his meals for him, and he’d ordered pizza because she hadn’t been home to cook, and she hadn’t even messaged him to let him know where she was.
He sat at the island of the kitchen, eating a piece of the pizza over the box. His eyes locked on her the moment she stepped into the kitchen, and he dropped the slice back into the box. She didn’t know how he react at seeing her, but she hadn’t expected relief.
“I’m sorry.” She put her purse on the counter and slid onto a stool at the island, facing him.
“Is this how you apologize?” His dark tone surprised her, and she quickly saw the stern dominant in his expression. That was exactly the wrong way to apologize. They’d spent several hours over the course of the week going over every position he deemed acceptable for different situations, and sitting across from him was not where he expected her when she gave an apology.
She stepped off the stool and moved to a cleared area of the kitchen. Slowly she pulled her blouse over her head and slipped her bra off her body. The cool air of the room drew her nipples to attention, but she did her best to ignore it. His eyes were on her, watching every move she made. With as much grace as she could muster, she unbuttoned her slacks and pushed them down her hips, pushing them to the side with her foot. Hooking her thumbs into the thin straps of her panties, she pulled them down and placed them with the rest of her clothing.
She chanced a glance at him. He sat with his arms over his chest, watching with an almost bored expression. Her actions got her into the mess, she couldn’t blame him for not being thrilled about it. Trying to do her best, she moved down to her knees and placed her hands on the cold tile of the floor. She pushed herself forward until her breasts touched the ground, and her forehead rested on the floor. Arms out to her sides, she crossed her feet at the ankles. Hoping she had managed the “T” look he had taught her she began her apology.
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“For what?” His voice felt distant, rooms away even though she knew he was only a few feet from where she lay.
“I’m sorry for not responding quickly to your messages yesterday, and for not being home this evening without telling you what time to expect me.” She closed her eyes, no need to stare at the white tile beneath her. The coolness of the floor did help to alleviate some of the flush of her cheeks. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t here to cook your dinner.”
The grating sound of the stool scraping against the floor as he moved echoed in the room. Heart racing, she felt a desperate need to see him, to know he was still in the room. He didn’t leave her waiting, his fingertips touched the top of her head.
“You cut your hair.” A few strands were lifted, she imagined him wrapping it around his finger.
“Yes, sir.” Would he be upset she hadn’t asked permission? Was she supposed to?
“It’s curly now.” He dropped the lock of hair and moved lower down her body, his fingers sending chills down her back as he made his way down her torso.
“Because it’s short.” Did he not like it? The weight of her hair had kept the natural curls at bay, leaving only waves. Now without the weight to drag the curls down, she sported a head full of soft curls.
“Mm hm.” His hand rested on her ass check, not moving. “As much as I love you
r cooking, I don’t expect you to cook every meal. You have a life and a job. I do, however, expect an answer when I ask you if you’ll be home. And if you are held up, I expect to know.” His fingers curled into her flesh, his nails bit into her flesh, but she managed to keep silent. “Now, what kept you away yesterday?” He went back to smoothing his hand over her ass, rubbing away the burn his nails left behind.
Yesterday. “I told you, I was tired.”
“I know that.” He gave her ass a warning slap. “I want to know why. What happened?”
She took a steadying breath. Could she tell him? She didn’t have the energy to go into everything that had happened, and if she told him Jonathan had been at the house and about the pictures, he’d want more information. He wouldn’t let her take care of it all herself.
“Erin.” His nails dug into her again. “If you are trying to figure out what to tell me and what not to tell me, let me clear up the situation for you: tell me everything. We don’t keep secrets from each other. Ever. And you don’t fucking lie to me.” He dragged his hand over her ass, scratching her with his nails. She wiggled, and he gave her half a dozen hard smacks to her thighs.
“Okay!” She took several deep breaths, keeping herself in position while he began to run his fingers over her ass again. “When I stopped back at the house Jonathan showed up. He wants to put the house on the market right now. We argued, but he’s giving me a few more days.”
“Do you want to sell it?”
“I don’t know.” She wanted to turn around, to see his eyes, to feel his arms around her. Not stare at the damn floor while having the conversation. “Can I turn over now?”
“No.” He stepped over her, and she could feel him near her, hovering over her. “What else happened?” His hands gripped her hair and yanked her head back. His face was only a mere inch from hers, blue eyes focused on hers. “Be a good girl and tell me everything, and you’ll be rewarded. Be a bad girl and keep your secrets, and you’ll be used and put to bed hungry for more than just your dinner.”
She closed her eyes, but only briefly then took a deep breath. “I got a letter. Pictures of us from the auction.”
“What?” His eyes narrowed. “Someone had pictures?”
“Yes, of us leaving the club.” She swallowed hard. “I didn’t know if I should tell you, or what to do. Another one showed up at work today.”
“At work?” He sounded pissed. “What did you do? Did you see who brought it?” Her scalp burned from his grip, but she continued to answer his questions.
“No, Brenda said it some kid dropped it at security downstairs.”
“What did you do then?”
Knowing he was going to hate her answer, she forged ahead anyway. “I took the rest of the afternoon off. I went and got my haircut, and had a massage. It all took longer than I thought it would, that’s why I’m late.”
A darkness entered his gaze. Not of arousal. “Get me the letters.” He released her hair with a little shove and stepped away from her. She managed to get to her feet and to her purse without tripping. Her hands shook as she handed the two envelopes she had shoved into her purse over to him.
He glared at her while opening them and pulling out the contents. When he walked away to read the letters she folded her arms over her stomach. “Were you going to tell me about these, or is just because you missed dinner that you found yourself in this position?” He didn’t look at her when he asked his question. Maybe he was too angry look at her, maybe he’d toss her out.
“I was going to tell you. Just as soon as I figured out what to do.”
He was at her side in seconds. “Figured out what to do?” His voice hadn’t raised, but it still sent shivers through her. “What did you think you were going to do? Were you thinking…”
“No!” She turned to face him. “I wasn’t going to get the file.” No matter what he thought, she couldn’t let him think that.
“I didn’t think that. There is no such file on any computer.” He chastised her. “Were you thinking to find this guy on your own is what I was going to ask you.”
“Oh.” She looked away, over his shoulder. The summer sun still hadn’t set, and she could see clearly into the yard. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. Seems to be the theme for tonight.”
She brought her gaze to his and took a long breath. “It would seem so.” She pushed her shoulders back and dropped her hands to her sides. He had every right to be upset with her. Those envelopes involved him, and being honest, she wasn’t sure if she would have told him at all if she hadn’t found herself face down on his kitchen floor.
“Does your building have security camera’s outside?”
“Probably. But Charlie said it was a kid.”
“The guy probably just stopped him on the street and offered him a couple bucks to deliver it to your building. There might be something on the tapes. I’ll call Kendrick later and ask him to see what he can do.”
“Why would someone want your portfolio, I mean I know why, but why go through me? And why is he dragging it all out?” He seemed okay with talking about the situation at hand and not her prior actions, and she was going to take full advantage of that.
“I don’t know. But I don’t want you involved. If you get another one of these, you give it to me right away.” His tone didn’t suggest he wanted an open dialogue about it, either.
“The first one was mailed to my house,” she whispered. “How could he know where I live? Who I am? If you do something, he’ll send those photos out.”
Bradley flipped through the photos. “No, he won’t. He won’t know I’m involved. Now, about Jonathan.”
“Ugh. I don’t want to talk about him.” She wanted him gone from her life and her memories. She sure as hell didn’t want him to be a topic for discussion with Bradley.
“Kneel,” he snapped at her. When she didn’t move quickly enough, he grabbed her hair again, and pushed her to her knees. Her hands gripped each other behind her back, and she kept her eyes on him. It wasn’t the time to struggle or to question him.
“When I ask you a question you fucking answer. When I bring up a topic, you don’t shoot it down. Do you understand that?” His voice was back to being hard, icy. When she first heard that tone with him, she confused it with something darker, something close to disgust, but she learned quickly enough it was his way of bringing her attention straight to the forefront. To get her to focus only on him and what he said to her.
“Yes, sir,” she answered quickly. His forehead pressed against her cheek. She could smell the pizza on his breath, feel the heat of his skin on her.
“Jonathan.” He clipped. “I do not want you alone with him again. If you need to go to the house, I’ll take you. If he wants to meet about the sale of the house, I’ll go with you.”
“I can handle him on my own.” She shouldn’t argue, she knew it, but she wouldn’t have him taking care of every detail of her life either. She was more than capable of being an adult all on her own. Besides, what would she do when the week ended and she was without him.
“I know you can. That’s not the issue. The issue is he’s an asshole, and I don’t want him to have the chance to hurt you. You get frazzled and then do stupid things, like hide things from me.”
“That had nothing…” Her words were cut off by his hand slapping over her mouth.
“I said you are not to be alone with him again. We don’t know for sure that he’s not the one sending these letters. He could be working with someone that knows me, knows you. You said yourself he kept documents at his home office, things he didn’t need to.” She began to talk but he shut her off again by pushing his hand harder against her mouth. “Nod if you understand, Erin.”
Her head moved up and down. She took deep breaths through her nose, watching his expression harden. He wasn’t done with her. Things weren’t going to be pleasant for her any time soon. “You are not to do anything about these letters other than what I tell you. Do you understan
d?” Again she nodded, his fingers pushed her lips against her teeth, and she grimaced. “You and I need to have a talk, but we’ll do it later. When I’m more concerned about your answers, and when you can fucking breathe enough to give them.”
Anyone else and she would have been terrified. He yanked her to her feet and walked her down the hall toward the stairs leading to his room. She heard movement in the living room and realized George had come into the house. Bradley ignored him, and she did her best to do the same while he marched her up the stairs, one hand still covering her mouth and the other in her hair.
Once in his room, he pushed her to her knees, beside the bed. “I’m going to uncover your mouth, and you are going speak only when I give you permission. You aren’t going to do a damn thing that I don’t give you permission for, do you understand?”
She nodded again, and took a deep gulping breath when his hand moved. Her tongue ran along her lips. She watched from the corner of her eye as he went into his closet. In his hand he held a flogger, and a cane. Her eyes stuck to the cane.
“You said you were sorry for being disrespectful and secretive.” He laid the cane on the bed, and draped the flogger over his shoulder. The anger was out of his voice, and she could see his arousal pressing against his jeans. This wasn’t about punishment, this was about atonement, and she would willing take what he gave her, every sensation he brought her.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Erin knelt beside his bed, her hands held behind her back, chest out, erect nipples pointed at him. Those letters made his nerves shake. Someone was using her to get to him. They’d threatened her. And there was no way he was going to let anything happen to his girl. His girl.
She thought she was going to come up with a plan to protect him from whoever was reaching out to her. His little pet wanted to protect him. A new concept for him. His girl seeking to protect him as much as he wanted to protect her. This woman was turning his world inside out.