by Kira Blakely
Reaching out, I let a finger trail over one of her shoulders. “You’re incorrect though, princess. I like having you to myself. It’s why I’ve brought you to my island retreat. This is about you and me, about whatever has been smoldering between us since we met. You can’t tell me you didn’t notice me right off. Your gaze never strayed from me the other day; you never took your blue eyes off me.”
“I… I can’t completely lie about that, but this is like going from 0 to 60 in no time. I’m trying to read you, Drake, because I have no idea what you’re thinking.”
I shrugged and leaned back in my seat. “That’s all part of my charm.”
***
Mrs. Johnson took Belle back to her wing the minute we landed. I sensed a lecture coming from Leonard St. Croix, and I had exactly fuck all interest in that. I didn’t need a knowing glance or an impassioned speech from Leonard about how I needed to give up romancing her and just stick to actual business. I knew what I wanted, what was burning through my veins. I could feel it in the way my cock throbbed and my balls were tight and heavy with need. Just being near Belle left me horny as fuck. It was something wild and almost inhuman running through me, something beastly. I needed her, and I’d wanted to touch her in the worst way.
That was why I came back to my private quarters right away. We had dinner scheduled later tonight, but if I didn’t take the tension off, then I wasn’t going to make it.
Surging into my bathroom, I slipped quickly out of my suit and tossed the pants and shirt into the hamper. I tried to avoid the mirror. The images I saw there, like the anchor and the logo, brought me back to Iraq. Back to the war and things I wished to God I could change. But still, out my periphery, I caught sight of the sleeve of tattoos up my arm, the “Semper Fi” declaring my loyalty to the Marines. I got it at eighteen, when I was young, fresh, and on my first leave. Now, it’s almost a bigger pain to me than my other mark, the one I try to avoid at all cost. I’d consulted with doctors about getting it removed and the cost wasn’t an issue, of course, but the ink for the sleeve was very dark, harder to remove than most would have thought and I was too busy with meetings to be out of it for a week or more with laser treatments. I’d do it someday and soon, but I needed to make sure my company wouldn’t fall apart during my recovery. So, the tattoo remained, a reminder of my sacrifice written deep into my skin.
As far as the Marines went, I’d never trade the camaraderie, the amazing men and women I served beside were still the best people I’d ever known. But it had its own tolls, the life that I couldn’t deal with, that I buried with sex and booze, with long nights out on the strip. I could run from it, or at least I could try, but I never seemed to run far enough, never blacked out quite enough. I always ended up back there somehow.
Usually in my nightmares.
The steam rose from the shower, and I slipped into it, placing my palms on the tile on the back wall and hunching over, letting the hot water splash over me, cleaning me, as if that was something I could ever be after—
No.
Not now.
Now, I was going to be absorbed by Belle, by the woman I wanted, from her fabulous, rounded breasts—not too huge or fake, but just right—to her amazing, pillowy lips that I’d been fantasizing about for days. That would ease my mind, would ease the trouble rolling through my mind. Keep me from slipping back into my nightmares.
I lathered up the soap and placed my hands over my cock. One hand was cupping my balls, which were tight with need still, almost ready to go, and the other was stroking my long, thick erection. I closed my eyes and thought about her, about the brown hair I wanted to fist as I pumped into her mouth. I thought about that creamy skin that I longed to stroke and mark while I was fucking her. I thought about everything I could have with her.
I could have everything this month, and I wanted it. I didn’t want to be cautious or follow the rules. I was goddamn Drake McManus, top of the Fortune 500, and I made the rules, always had.
Now I had Belle where I wanted her, where I’d craved to have her.
I thrust into my hand, feeling my balls tense, and I pumped harder, the rhythm of my strokes getting more intense, the heat of the shower merging with the heat pumping through my veins, and I was on fucking fire, consumed by heat as thoughts of her drove me on. I came then, shooting all over the tile, my jizz thick against it.
I was gasping for breath afterward, inclining my head up to catch the water in my mouth. My knees shook, and an idea came to mind, something that would move too fast even for such an arrangement, but something I was dying to do. I would be surprising Belle after dinner, and I hoped she accepted what I’d be offering.
If she resisted, I’d work hard to convince her, seal that deal.
It was what I did.
Chapter Four
Belle
I didn’t know how to take all this in. When we landed, I was confronted with the ultimate tropical paradise, a giant compound with a huge wraparound porch in a pale peach color. It looked like it would be at home in Havana or in any Spanish island, even if we were in the Bahamas. Rationally, I knew that Drake was rich, a type of rich my father had always worked and scrabbled toward but could never reach. But it was another thing to see it in person, to see a mansion the size of the average college dorm looming up from the sand and surf. God, the place even had wings. I know because his older, slightly rounded housekeeper, Mrs. Johnson, was showing me to the direct opposite side of the house—-no, estate—from where Drake was headed.
It took quite a few minutes of walking down labyrinthine halls before we reached my bedroom. I gasped at the tropical island paradise that awaited me: white wicker furniture, a four-poster bed with mosquito netting hanging down from it, and soft, pale lilac walls. Walking farther into the room, I spied an open door that led into a closet overflowing with clothes. I hadn’t checked the labels yet, but I was sure they’d be designer ones, only the best for me this month. I’d had some money growing up before the business went bad, and I liked a fancy dress as much as the next girl. Still, it had been years since I’d even thought of pampering myself. We’d had such a hard time since my father’s money troubles and my mom’s sickness had affected things.
Nevertheless, it felt like a magnet was pulling me closer to the amazing assortment of finery, as if playing dress up could help this crazy stunt make sense.
“You don’t have to look so sad,” Mrs. Johnson said as she set my suitcase down on the bed. “Drake is many things, and while he’s sometimes too brash and too cocky, he’s a good man. When I first started as his personal housekeeper, I hadn’t been here more than a year when he came to my rescue, like an angel.”
“How so?” I asked, my interest piqued.
“When my granddaughter was born, she needed a heart transplant, and he arranged to get her to the top of the list, no questions asked. Little Sabrina’s sixteen now and talking about prom and college.” Her eyes welled up with tears. “I never thought that I’d see that, not when we first got the news. He’s done similar things for so many of his employees and the children in L.A., his charity work. His gifts go beyond what you could imagine he’s capable of. He paid to move Leonard’s family to the safety of the United States from Haiti and has an apartment set up for them as well. Like I said, Drake may come off as gruff or strutting his stuff, but it’s a front. I think you’ll grow to understand that.”
I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the grease in it from the flight and wishing for a shower before dinner. A seven-hour flight, no matter how luxurious, was a pain in the ass. “You don’t have to give him the hard sell. It’s not an infomercial, Mrs. Johnson.”
“Penelope, please, dear,” she said, patting my shoulder. Her eyes were kind and lined with age, which for some reason made me tear up. I think it was because I was scared I’d never see my mom grow that old. And she wouldn’t, not if we couldn’t afford the right treatment. “Are you all right?” she asked, pulling an actual handkerchief from her pocket.
&n
bsp; I took it gratefully and dabbed at my eyes. “It’s just… you know why I’m here, that we need this deal to go through so the company can survive in some form—even merged with his—and my mom can keep her health insurance. It’s so hard.”
“Shh, I know this is going to work out. You need to get a nice hot bath, and I’ll set out your clothes. Don’t worry about anything tonight. Just enjoy dinner with Drake, and you’ll see. He’s a good man. I promise that.”
***
I felt like a princess.
That was a stupid thought. I should feel violated. I’d practically been sold to Drake in exchange for a better deal for my father’s company. And yet I felt like I was in a fairy tale. The diamonds hung at my throat and my fingers trailed over the thick, heavy stones. The dress was a light pink silk that hung low over my breasts and stopped at mid-thigh on my legs. I was showing far more than I intended, but it was so very hot on the island, and it felt amazing to have the light fabric over me after a cool shower.
Leonard helped me out to the back veranda and then led me over the boardwalk to where a table was set up on Drake’s private beach. Out there, it was just him, me, the food set out on the table, some twinkle lights and an actual string quartet set out on a platform for me. That was quite the showstopper, and I hadn’t expected to see anyone else out on the beach.
“You got me string players?”
“I wanted to be classy for you,” he said, standing and pulling out my chair as best as he could on the sand.
As soon as I pulled up to the table, I kicked off my flip flops and leaned with my elbows against the surface. “This is so beyond what I expected.” I gestured to the diamond necklace I wore. “Mrs. Johnson… Penelope was kind enough to pick this out for me for the night. She has a whole case of choices, and she doesn’t have to do that. This is supposed to be business.”
He reached out and squeezed my hand. “You know that it’s not just about business, and that it never has been. I want so much more from this month.” He chuckled, a low rumble that made warmth flare in my belly. “If I only wanted to talk business, you know I’d have invited Maurice. As it is, he’s really not my type.”
His eyes, so like warm chocolate, shone back at me under the moonlight. I couldn’t stop staring at them, just as I hadn’t been able to back in the boardroom. He was mesmerizing, and there felt like so much lay beyond those depths, beneath that scar on his left eyebrow, that left him looking like a dangerous Jason Mamoa.
When we were younger, Carol used to joke with one of her loser high school boyfriends that chicks dug scars; maybe she was right.
“I know, but it’s all so much.”
“Afraid I’ll kick you to the curb when we’re back in California?” he asked, pulling the silver domes off our meals of excellently prepared salmon. The scent of dill made my mouth water. “Isn’t that what you think?”
I picked up a fork and poked at my meal, at the flaky morsels that I was probably too nervous to eat much of. “I know that you’ve gone through most of the Hollywood roster. Any starlet under thirty has been on your arm. I don’t want to do that. I… romance should be special.”
He laughed, and suddenly that sound didn’t appeal as much. Drake dug into his own meal and chewed a bit before he finally answered. “Princess, how much more special could this be? You have a private villa to yourself, your own servant for a month, and anything you ask for, I can get.”
“I’m sure you do this for all your conquests. But you can’t give me anything I truly want. My mother—” I cut myself off, unwilling to divulge my mother’s illness and the true reason why I agreed to this trip.
He frowned. “Right, your mother. She doesn’t actively engage with the company, so I didn’t do much research on her.”
I stilled; it was probably too much of a weakness to admit to her illness in front of him. He might talk a confident and cajoling game, but he wasn’t necessarily safe, wasn’t a man I could trust any part of myself with, let alone my heart.
“Mom isn’t made for business,” I said. It was technically true now. I poked at some rice, and then nodded up at him. “So, why the Bahamas? I assume you have houses in every corner of the planet. Luxury compounds from Thailand to Chile.”
“I don’t travel as much as you’d think,” he conceded. “Oh, I do for business, but I love L.A.”
“The smog, traffic, and everyone posturing for position?” I was incredulous. “L.A. drives me crazy. It’s why I had to get away to college at UC San Diego and why my family liked to get away to the lake when times were good. It’s too hard being there all the time, too fake.”
“Travel can be hard though,” he admitted. “I’m always on call for premieres or emergency client consultations. I like the personal touch for some of the biggest hitters.”
“I can’t imagine J-Law or Tom wait much.”
He chuckled. “Depends which Tom. I… I don’t always like traveling if I don’t have to. Adjusting to new surroundings, not knowing all the angles. At home, I keep to certain routines, the clubs I know, the eateries, that way I know how to exit fast.”
I frowned. “You think that crowds of dissatisfied customers will come for you with pitchforks?”
He shook his head. “Back in Iraq, things were rough.”
“Oh,” I replied, not sure of what to say.
He was opening up a bit, abandoning some of the cockiness that turned me off, giving me just a glimpse of the man Penelope trusted. At least he was giving me something, but I was afraid if I pushed for anything more, he’d clam up. Maybe he wasn’t even aware of how much he was putting out there.
“I had enough surprises for a lifetime,” he said, pulling up a large velvet box from his lap. It was necklace size, and that confused me. After all, Penelope had been sent with the right one for my outfit already. “It means,” he continued, setting his fork down, “that I crave control in everything I do. So, I have a few retreats, but I prefer to stay a creature of habit.”
“All right,” I offered, frowning at the box. “I don’t know if I understand.”
He cracked it open, and I gasped. A stylized dog collar, bejeweled with rubies and diamonds, with a few silver studs sticking out from it. “Do you know what it is?”
I stood up but stayed when he grabbed my wrist. “Is this a joke? Do you what? Want me to wear that?”
“I’m a Dominant, Belle, and for this month, I hope that you’ll be my sub. I won’t force you to go that far, perhaps we’ll work up to everything, but this is a promise.”
“Oh. it’s definitely a joke or you’ve gone Looney Toons,” I snapped, pulling my arm away from him.
“No,” he said, standing, and the ocean breeze carried his scent to my nose, that mix of rugged cologne and masculine musk that was pure sex and pure Drake.
Would it be so bad? A traitorous voice whispered in the back of my mind, even as my clit throbbed between my legs. For one month, the most wanted bachelor in the world wanted no one but me. Maybe it could be more. Maybe…
No.
I deserved more. I’d waited long enough for a good relationship, for more than the few disappointments in college. I wasn’t going to throw so much away to be a flavor of the month for him. I might have to do some things, but I wasn’t putting on a dog collar, no matter how many diamonds adorned it, and letting him just do anything with me. I’d read a few novels in my day and I could imagine the rest. I wasn’t willing to give him that much control over me. None of it was what I wanted to sign up for.
“What type of promise?” I snapped. “God, I understood negotiations meant more, but this is far beyond the pale, Drake.”
“Princess,” he said, setting the collar on the table. “I want to work up to everything. Honestly, in public, I filter through with the dates and the publicity stunts. But I pick my subs far more carefully, and only offer this to the few private women I feel I can trust. They aren’t just disposed of. I’m saying I want to see if we mesh well this month, see where it might go
from there…”
“But why? Why did you want any of this when you were going to walk before when we wouldn’t take your insulting deal?”
His nostrils flared, and I could tell Drake was fighting down his own anger. “First, I was offering far more than anyone else would. I was the only company to take a meeting with you, and I expected you to act reasonably and accept that. Second, I saw you, really saw you in that room.” Drake punctuated his point by pulling me flush to his torso, so close that I could feel the ridge of his erection against my body. “You’re amazing, Belle, and I want you.”
“As a submissive,” I hissed. “As some degenerate game.”
“It’s not like that. It’s about trust and about honoring what everyone needs. You’d have all the power with our play; the sub always does. Just think about it. You don’t have to answer now. We can always deal with the actual negotiations and other, milder, things. But just think about it,” he said, his lips now were perilously close to mine. So close that I could reach out and taste him.
Forcing myself to stay sane, I pulled away from him. “No, I’m not doing this. I… Goodnight, Drake,” I said, storming back across the beach, leaving my date and that damn collar behind me.
I was no one’s pet, and no one, not even Drake McManus was going to fully own me.
Chapter Five
Belle
I couldn’t believe what he’d done. I couldn’t believe any of it. Tears burned down my cheeks as I huddled in the four-poster bed that ass had given me. Who cared about lilac walls and beautiful marble accents in the bathroom, when Drake McManus was actually everything they’d said he was? For a moment, even with the forced nature of our “negotiations,” I’d thought that we could learn to build something. What an idiot I’d been, a complete fool. There wasn’t anything else beneath that scarred brow and those brown eyes but a man like so many others. He was probably just like George, no matter how he denied it.