Submit to Me

by Sappharia Mayer

  "Well," she said breathlessly, "that was unexpected."

  Kade stepped back. He wanted to adjust his painful erection but only shifted slightly as he took his position back on the couch.

  Without a word, he picked up the bandage off the table and held it up. Jessica nodded her acceptance. Kade kept his movements gentle and unhurried as he lifted her foot and set it on his leg. He pulled on the shoe and Jessica winced in pain. Her ankle was swollen to the size of a small grapefruit.

  "I want to see if it's more than sprained. This will hurt," he said with confidence but hated the look of pain in her eyes.

  Jessica grit her teeth as he moved her ankle and foot to different angles. Periodically he heard a hiss of breath or felt her leg tense against him. When he was satisfied it was only a bad sprain, he wrapped the bandage in place.

  Kade picked up the other ice pack and twisted it until it gave a satisfying pop. With her foot still resting in his lap, he placed the ice pack against her ankle.

  "Now that we have you sorted"—he nodded toward her ankle—"what brings you to this fine establishment this evening, Detective?"

  Chapter Eight

  Jessica stared at Kade. Her mind was spinning. How could he move so easily from their kiss back to business? And what was up with this big man caretaking act? She worked to keep her dispassionate outward composure, but her body was a racing mix of arousal and pain. It was a heady combination.

  She ran her hands down her pants to calm her frayed nerves and inhaled deeply to regain her own control. His eyes never wavered from her like he was taking in the most minute information.

  "How long has the club owner been away?"

  Kade's reaction told her she'd hit a nerve. Two can play at the observation game, big boy, she thought to herself. He shifted uncomfortably on the couch but not enough to jostle her ankle still lying across his leg.

  “A few weeks," he replied.

  "Define a few," Jessica pushed. She wanted answers. Something wasn't adding up in this situation.

  "A small number, a handful, not many, hardly any, more than one," Kade said with a smirk.

  Jessica pinched the bridge of her nose. The strain of the day was wearing on her, and she wasn't up to this game play. A wave of exhaustion hit, and she closed her eyes and tried to refocus on the best way to get Kade to give her more information on what was going on around here.

  "Maybe we should take this up tomorrow, Detective," he mumbled.

  She shook her head and forced her eyelids back open. The coolness of the ice pack on her cheek worked through the bruise she knew was forming, and her body screamed for rest.

  "If you'll just tell me what I need to know, then I can be on my way," she tossed back.

  "With all due respect, you are in no shape to drive, and this conversation would be best when you are well rested."

  His tone told her he would not budge, and she was tired of fighting for her own position today. "Mr. Kinkaid, I can take care of myself. The faster you tell me what is happening here, the faster I'll be out of your hair." Her words slurred slightly, and she pushed against the chair to sit up straighter. The move jostled her ankle, and she winced as pain ignited through her leg.

  "Obviously," he said dryly.

  "Are you always this stubborn?"

  "Yes. Especially when it comes to making sure the people around me are well taken care of."

  "I'm not one of 'your people,' Mr. Kinkaid," she said as her eyes drifted closed again. Jessica fought against her traitorous body, but the need to tap out pulled on her like a heavy blanket across her senses.

  "You are under my roof, so to speak. So for the moment, you are part of 'my people.'"

  His deep voice soothed across her senses. Just for a minute, she thought. I can close my eyes for just a minute.

  Darkness drifted across her senses as sleep demanded its due. In her dreams, strong arms cradled her body against a broad warm chest. She let out a soft moan as her body melted into his. The man in her dream carried her through the maze of a castle, up and downstairs and through breezy passages until he carefully lay her upon a gloriously soft bed. With a soft kiss to her forehead, the world faded away.

  The smell of bacon mixed with coffee urged Jessica to wakefulness. She sighed with contentment until pain seared through her body. Jessica's eyes shot open, and she scrambled for the gun under her pillow. When it wasn't there, panic rose, and she sat straight up. The bedroom was beautifully decorated with a modern minimalist style, leaving much of it open and airy.

  She looked down and realized she was still in her now very rumpled suit. Pain streaked through her ankle at her sudden movements, and she groaned when the rest of her body followed its lead. Everything in her told her she'd better have gotten the license plate of the truck that took her out because it was the only explanation for feeling this poorly and not remembering drinking too much.

  Sounds from the other room drew her attention, and she focused on the words. She needed to assess her situation, locate her gun, and figure out where the hell she was right now.

  "Is she awake yet?" a distant male voice asked with a tone of amusement.

  "Not yet. She went through quite a beating. Her eye was almost swollen shut last night, and somehow she sprained her left ankle, but I don't think it was that bad. She was walking on it when she came into the club. A couple of days of rest and stability and it should be good again."

  "You know she will want to kill you because you did the whole damsel in distress and whisked her away to your lair," the distant male replied.

  "She's no damsel in distress, I assure you. And it's not my lair. I borrowed the apartment because it was close. She fell asleep in the chair for Christ's sake. What was I supposed to do? Put her in a car and risk killing herself or someone else because she fell asleep behind the wheel?"

  There was a long silence.

  "That was one hell of a kiss by the way," the distant man said, the smirk evident in his voice.

  "Tanner, unless you have business to report, I have better things to do with my morning," Kade replied.

  Jessica flushed at the mention of the kiss. The memories of the previous evening came flooding back in a rush. What had she done? She was investigating a crime, and she’d kissed someone who was part of the investigation. She pinched the bridge of her nose as her mind berated her for the illogical actions.

  In response, her body told her how amazing it was to have a man hover right out of reach because she'd willed it with the smallest motion. The heady combination of power and lust that filled the moment brought her body to an almost uncontrollable need in seconds.

  The internal war frustrated her. On one hand, she'd just crossed a professional boundary, and everything in her should feel shame, but she didn't. Everything in her wanted him. She knew the situation could go no further, but it would make for some amazing fantasies as she imagined all the places she wanted to feel his amazing tongue on her body.

  "Good morning." Kade's deep voice broke through her conflicting thoughts.

  "Good morning. Where the hell am I?"

  Kade chuckled. "Ah, still feisty as ever, even when someone tries to save your life."

  "I didn't think my life was in danger under your roof," she countered.

  "Which is why you are still here," he said, ending the conversation. "I've had clothes brought up for you, as I'm sure you don't want to go through the day in the same suit you slept in. Through those doors is a well-appointed bath. I'm sure you'll find everything you'll need. When you are ready, there is breakfast on the kitchen island."

  "Thank you," Jessica said, in awe of his efficiency.

  "Glad to be of service," he said with a slight nod and pivoted to exit the room.

  Jessica sat for a long minute staring at the door and wondering what world she'd just fallen into because she'd never encountered a man like Kade before.

  She hobbled into the bathroom. Large thick towels sat in perfect alignment on a shelf. The shower to her r
ight was big enough to accommodate at least three people, and everything she needed from a toothbrush to small bottles of makeup lay out across the vanity. It reminded her of a resort experience, not a place she'd crashed because she'd made a bad decision to keep working after her spar with Ben Matthews rather than going home like a sane person.

  Jessica moved near the shower.

  "Please state temperature," a male voice rang out in the bathroom.

  With a startle, she yelped as she slammed her foot onto the tile to keep her balance. Her sprained ankle didn't support her weight, and she groaned as she grabbed for the vanity top. When the throbbing eased, she looked around and re-approached the shower.

  "Please state temperature," it said again.

  "One hundred and two degrees," Jessica replied tentatively.

  "One hundred and two degrees Fahrenheit confirmed," the voice answered. As soon as the sentence was complete, the shower automatically started, and Jessica stared at it in wonder and amusement.

  Carefully she stripped out of her clothes, unwrapped her ankle, and stepped under the steaming water. Her muscles immediately clenched under the water's onslaught. Every cut and bruise seared through her skin, and she moaned in both pleasure and pain but in all the wrong proportions.

  What was she thinking to take on a guy the size of Ben Matthews? She berated herself with each new twinge. It would have just been smarter to walk away. Instead, she fell right into his chest-pounding ego fight. She might have won by getting in a solid combination of moves during what could only be described as a brawl, but it came with a high cost. There was no way she would show her face in the office with one eye swollen shut and a face with every shade of purple and yellow to remind everyone he'd gotten the best of her more than once.

  She was tired of the constant need to prove herself in a man's world. From the military to police work, every time she started over there was always at least one Neanderthal who wanted to prove the male myths were true. At five foot five, she was already a target. They always wanted to drive home the idea they thought she wasn't strong enough, smart enough, too soft, too scared, or any of the thousands of mantras of the men are beasts and women should stay home to make babies crowd.

  Even with almost a foot and a hundred pounds on her, she'd taken him down and brought him to unconsciousness with a choke hold from her knee. It was the price of constantly proving her right to be on the front lines with the men rather than being respected for her position. She'd won, but winning and walking away unscathed were two vastly different things.

  Jessica stepped out of the shower and proceeded to gingerly dry off. Taking time to put on makeup and fix her hair wasn’t a luxury she was accustomed to enjoying. She brushed her teeth as she read through the assortment of makeup. It was impressive in addressing her current problems, and she wondered at who would have thought of things like bruise cover or a concealer to cover the redness from the scratches on her face.

  Thirty minutes later, she was satisfied that she looked somewhat presentable. It was a tall order when one eye was still mostly swollen shut, but at least it was better. Wrapping the last part of the bandage around her foot, she hobbled to the kitchen and braced herself to face Kade. With each step, the memories from the night before flooded to the forefront of her mind, and she groaned. Better to set the record straight about the mistake she'd made with that kiss before everything got out of hand.

  Chapter Nine

  "Good morning, Detective," Kade said from the other side of the large kitchen island. "I hope you slept well."

  The aubergine pantsuit fit her curves much better than the boxy one she'd worn the day before. She moved across the room with a stiff grace. It was obvious her body ached, but she refused to give in to the pain.

  Once she'd reached the island, he watched as she picked up a coffee mug. Pouring the rich, hot black liquid into it, she held up a hand for him to stop when he started to speak and pointed to the mug. After she took several long sips, she looked up with a nod as if to release him.

  Kade chuckled and slid a packet of Ibuprofen toward her.

  Jessica tore it open and downed the two pills easily, then returned to focus on her coffee. When she picked up the pot to refill the mug, he tried again.

  "There is bacon, bagels, hash browns, and I can cook you eggs in any style you wish. As I did not have an opportunity to ask if you had any allergies or preferences, I put on a basic spread. If you do, please let me know. This is a well-stocked kitchen, and I can cater to any of your needs," Kade said smoothly as he watched her reaction.

  She looked at him over her coffee mug with confusion.

  "Your captain called this morning to tell me he wanted you to attend the event this weekend. I advised him you needed to work from here for the week to prepare. It would give you an opportunity to understand the grounds layout, choose how you would like to present yourself, and heal. And before you ask, no, I didn't tell him that last part."

  Jessica raised an eyebrow in his direction. He shifted slightly but refused to move under her intense gaze. There was something about this woman that intrigued him. He'd known women who wanted to go toe to toe with men, but they often tipped the scale and lost the soft femininity he craved.

  He saw none of it as a weakness but rather a gift to be treasured. Something about her drew his attention even when logic demanded he didn't have time for such a distraction.

  "Are you always this accommodating to your guests, Mr. Kinkaid?"

  The question startled him, and a long silence hung in the air.

  "I don't understand what you are asking, Detective."

  "Do you often bring women to your apartment and fix them breakfast the next morning?"

  "Let me correct a few things before things get out of hand. First, this is Atlas' apartment. It is her secondary residence when the club or one of her clients needs her to work a large project. Second, I don't cook for just anyone, and breakfast isn't really a stretch."

  "To clarify, you've brought me into another woman's apartment, let me sleep in her bed, and used her food to cook me breakfast."

  "You make it sound far more torrid than it is, Detective." Kade smiled.

  "Where did you sleep last night?"

  "On the couch. I knew you might wake up in pain or disoriented this morning, and I wanted to be close in case you needed anything."

  "Where's my gun?" she asked flatly.

  "In the safe. I wasn't sure where you kept it, but I guessed it was normally under your pillow, and I didn't want to get accidentally shot if you woke up startled," he answered matter-of-factly.

  "Good call. I reached for it this morning."

  He nodded as if he understood.

  "Where do you keep yours?" Jessica asked.

  "I used to keep it under my pillow," he replied.

  Kade suppressed the memories, but the shudder still ran through him.

  "Based on that answer, I presume there is a reason you've moved it."

  "Yes. It's a long story and thankfully has nothing to do with it being under my pillow," he stated without elaborating further.

  "PTSD?"

  He nodded. "Now what would you like for breakfast, Detective?"

  "Bacon, eggs sunny side up, hash browns, and a glass of orange juice."

  "I love a woman who knows exactly what she wants." He grinned at her and moved about the kitchen to fulfill her request. "Orange juice with or without pulp?"

  "Either is fine."

  Kade turned, grabbed the orange juice, and poured her a large glass.

  She watched the pulp dance and swirl in the eddies of the liquid.

  "What if I'd said no pulp?" she asked suddenly.

  He looked up at her and it was his turn to allow confusion to mar his face.

  "Then I would have strained it," Kade stated as if it were the most normal answer.

  "Seriously?" Jessica asked in shock.

  "Of course. Why would one not be prepared to provide what they've offered? Or what woul
d please someone else?"

  He watched her shake her head and wished for the thousandth time since meeting her he could read her thoughts. The woman was an enigma, and he would enjoy figuring her out.

  He set the plate in front of her. A look of sheer joy rippled across her face when she bit into the bacon. Picking up her fork, she cut around the whites of the eggs, leaving the liquid yokes. Kade watched in fascination as she dissected her breakfast.

  "Aren't you going to eat?" she asked when she looked up and found him watching her.

  "I ate breakfast after my run this morning," Kade stated.

  "You don't have to babysit me. I'll get out of your hair so you can get to work," she said with an uncomfortable shift in her seat.

  "Detective, let's get a few things clear. I wasn't joking about the conversation with your captain. If you're going to attend an event here this weekend, you'll need the week to prepare. We need to get you a membership to the club, teach you the layout of the main house and the grounds, get the appropriate clothes, and pamper you in the spa. No offense, but your rough and tumble look won't fly with the membership here. Either you look the part or you give up finding whatever it is you think is here," Kade said.

  There was no question in his tone. Each statement was a fact.

  "And how do you think I fit into this world of yours, Mr. Kinkaid?" she snapped.

  "That, Detective, is a question only you can answer."

  The door to the apartment entrance chimed, and Kade hit the button on the tablet lying beside his hand to show the security camera. Samantha's smirking face popped up, and he hit the button to release the front door locks.

  A minute later, Samantha bounded up the stairs.

  "Oh Kade, you shouldn't have," she crooned as she eyed the breakfast spread on the kitchen island.

  "I didn't," Kade mumbled as he watched Samantha pour herself a cup of coffee. Across the island, Jessica watched the exchange with rapt attention, and he shook his head.