Hard Lessons

by Jasmin Quinn

  He walked past her to the bar, shedding his suit jacket and tie on a bar stool. “Why didn’t you ask me?” He poured a scotch and returned to the living room, sitting at the end of the couch nearest her chair. He was close enough that he could reach out with his hand and snatch her. She saw the white of his knuckles as he held the glass and thought he might do exactly that, but she wasn’t going to be put off by her fear of him. She needed to say her piece.

  “How was I supposed to do that, Jack?” She leaned towards him, narrowing her eyes. “You haven’t been around. You haven’t returned my calls. Jesus Jack, Hector has more access to you than I do.”

  “I’ve been a little side-tracked, Mira. You know, sweeping up what little is left of the club.” He knocked back half the glass of whiskey in a single swallow. “Is this why you stayed up? To give me shit because I haven’t been paying enough attention to you?”

  “No.” Hurt was starting to replace Mira’s anger and she didn’t want that. She didn’t want either. She wanted them both to be grown-ups, to have an adult conversation. But she was having trouble managing Jack, realized this would always be the case. She took a sip of wine, trying to conceal the shakiness she felt inside. He was angry tonight, about something. Not this, not really, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t take it out on her.

  “Then what, Mira? I’m tired and in need of a blowjob or a good fuck. If either of those are on offer, then you have my attention. If not, make it fast.”

  You’re such a fucking asshole, Mira thought, but didn’t say. Instead, “Why didn’t you share the terms of Sophia’s work contract with me?”

  Jack took a breath, another swallow of whiskey. “Sophia’s work terms are none of your business.”

  “It’s illegal to make someone work non-stop, seven days a week around the clock.”

  Jack snorted. “Sophia’s illegal. She’s grateful she has a job, that she doesn’t have to sell herself on the streets.” He drained his whiskey and slammed the glass down on the table. Then, without warning, he knocked the wine from Mira’s hand, the glass hitting the floor, the wine cutting a red swath across the plush white carpet. He gripped her arms and pulled her to her feet as she resisted.

  “Jack, I just want to talk!”

  He kissed her, hard and bruising, pulling her body to his, so close she could feel the firm ridge of his erection. Then he released her. “How long are we going to play this fucking game?” he seethed. “I don’t have time for it.” He paced away. “I haven’t got time for your bullshit! Who the fuck cares about Sophia, she’s not overworked, she has one job to do and it’s not particularly difficult. She… you… in your little white tower, thinking I give a shit about bullshit labour laws!”

  Mira’s eyes burned. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and tried to keep herself from stammering. “You’re not being fair.”

  He returned to her, towering over her, his face inches from hers. “You know what’s not fair? Someone’s out there tearing my empire down, brick by brick. Last night, another of our warehouses was raided. We managed to repel the fuckers, but we have one man dead and two critically injured. All three of them have wives, girlfriends who care whether they live or die. And each fucking time this happens, Rob and I lose ground!”

  Mira licked her lips, her throat dry. It must be bad. He never shared his business with her, didn’t confide in her, didn’t trust her enough.

  He ran a shaky hand through his head, then took a step back. “You,” he bellowed as he pointed at her with a long threatening finger. “Follow my fucking rules!” He pinched her chin between his thumb and fingers, forcing her head up, his dark eyes searing hers. “There will be no more passes!” Then he gripped her by her bicep and propelled her forward. “Get the fuck to bed!”

  Mira fled, down the hall to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. She was trembling, afraid, angry, but also not, because she understood now, her timing was terrible. She knew about the bombing, but he’d never said a single word to her about this being one of many attacks. She knew he was distracted, knew it was business, but hadn’t realized how bad it was. And she picked this night of all nights to confront him about Sophia. She stripped off her clothes and slid into her T-shirt, crawled into bed and turned out the lamp. Then she lay there, her mind a hailstorm of thoughts, none of them productive or settling. Finally, her exhausted mind collapsed and folded her into oblivion for a few merciful hours.

  When she woke up, the sun was streaming in through the window, warming her. She shot straight up as she realized the lateness of the morning. Fuck, another rule broken. She was late for breakfast. She didn’t change, didn’t brush her hair as she hurried out of room, through the dining room to the breakfast alcove. Jack was sitting there, coffee cup in hand, but his table setting was untouched, his phone no where to be seen. He was waiting for her.

  She slid into her seat, dropped her eyes to her plate and said, “Sorry I’m late. I overslept.”

  “Look at me, Mira.” His voice was cool, dispassionate. He was back in control again.

  She looked up and into eyes as dark as storm clouds.

  “Now say sorry, so I know you mean it.”

  She exhaled a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, Jack.”

  He nodded as he reached for plain omelets. One for each. He served her, then himself. Like he did every morning they ate together. Always her, then him. And he’d eased off on her about the amount of food she should eat, didn’t force her to clean her plate as long as she made a good effort.

  She softened a little. “Can you tell me what’s going on, Jack. Maybe I can help.”

  His eyes stroked her body. “In what way? You’re hardly in any shape to take down the enemy.”

  “No,” Mira countered feeling a tingle of heat at his perusal. “But I am a lawyer, I have a nimble mind. I could help you figure out who’s attacking you.”

  Jack shook his head as he ate a forkful of cold omelet and grimaced. “I don’t want you involved in any of this.”

  “I’m your lawyer, Jack. I can help.”

  Jack slapped the table with the palm of his hand. “I said no!”

  Mira jumped at his sudden explosion, then pressed her lips together. She was there for one reason. To keep Rob out of prison. She understood, she had no other utility. Her fucking eyes were leaking again and she swiped at them angrily as she picked up her fork and stabbed at the disgusting cold omelet. It wobbled like jelly.

  Jack stood, drawing her attention to him. “I have to go. But I’ll be back late this afternoon. We’ll have dinner together.”

  Mira nodded, her voice threaded with relief as she said, “Okay.”

  “Dress up for it, Mira. Formal. You have what you need in your closet, wear hose, a pair of heels, put on some make-up. Pretend you like me. Pretend you want me to fuck you.”

  “Don’t be crude, Jack.”

  “Dinner’s at 8 in the dining room. Don’t be late, Mira.”

  Thirty-Three

  Mira was stunning as she entered the dining room. She was on time, dressed in a sleeveless black dress that dipped seductively low in the front and the back and draped to her ankles, a side slit exposing a sexy calf. She wore a four-inch pair of stilettos and considering she spent most of her days barefoot, still managed to walk elegantly. She’d taken time with her hair and makeup and even her fingernails were buffed and painted a light shade of cinnamon. Jack’s heart stuttered or was it his cock? Maybe both.

  He’d been a bastard the past two weeks, which was part of the reason he avoided her, but he hadn’t lied to her last night when he told her about the constant hammering at his business holdings. His investigator contacted him last night, someone thought they got a glimpse of his ex-wife. He found that both jarring and absurd. Isabelle here in Vegas was pretty fucking remote. Last he knew, she didn’t have a death wish. He told the investigator to track her down and bring her in, but no one could find her. It was all just bullshit and it infuriated him. Then when he got home last night, a
nd Mira was there, challenging him, he almost lost it on her.

  But he didn’t. Even in his fury, his reason kicked in, telling him he couldn’t. This woman, Mira, had his heart from the day he met her. He loved her. She needed to know that truth if they were going to find a way back to each other. He took full responsibility for where they were at. He understood her anger, her fear. He understood her downward spiral. But he also understood the relationship between a sub and her owner. When he’d laid out the rules for her, she’d submitted to them. It was thrilling to watch, and he so wanted to take her then, but he knew he needed to move her forward cautiously. He didn’t want to force his will and scare her off. He understood her reticence.

  He stepped up to her, took her hand in his and raised it to his lips, gently stroking the back of it. She shivered and he felt a heated tug of his cock. She was still responding to his touch. That was what he needed to know. That he wasn’t dead to her, that she wanted him. He just had to coax her back to loving him. “You’re beautiful, Mira.”

  He thrilled as she flushed, dropped her eyes to his chest, and said, “Thank you.”

  “I have something for you.” He pulled a long thin white box from the inside of his suit jacket and handed it to her. She took it tentatively and held it between her fingers, not moving.

  “Open it,” Jack told her and she did, slowly lifting the lid.

  He watched her face as her eyes landed on the diamond encased necklace. Confusion flickered in her eyes, then rejection. It didn’t surprise him. He’d expected it. He had to break her resistance down, bit by bit. “You don’t like it.” A statement.

  “No… I mean, yes… it’s beautiful.” She looked into Jack’s eyes. “I can’t accept it.” She closed the box and tried to push it back to him.

  He circled her wrist with his hand, stopping her. “Why?”

  She bit her lower lip as she looked at the gift. “It’s too much. It comes with expectations.”

  This caught Jack off guard. She was still resisting her role in his life, didn’t fully understand it. He corrected her. “I come with expectations, Mira. You’re mine. I own you. You’ll do whatever I want. The jewelry is to show you how much I care.”

  Mira’s tongue touched her top lip, wetting it, her eyes glued to his. He could tell that she knew all this but couldn’t find her way to acceptance. “Your expectations are that I keep Rob out of jail. Then what, Jack? Will I have outlived my usefulness to you? Is the sex a side benefit? Will you replace me again?” Her words were soft and she was trembling as she said them, knowing he wouldn’t like them.

  And she was right, he didn’t, but he tempered his reaction. “Let’s put the necklace on, Mira,” he said as if she hadn’t spoken. He turned her from him and made her lift her hair as he strung it across her throat and clasped it at the back of her neck. He kissed her shoulder, watched as she shivered, as her nipples hardened. Then he turned her to him, tilted her face to his and brushed her lips. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Mira. Five years ago, six months ago. There’s never been another woman that holds my heart like you do.”

  Mira turned her face and pushed against his chest with her hands. “Don’t.”

  “I love you, Mira.”

  “Don’t Jack, please don’t do this to me.”

  He hugged her to him and she stiffened in his arms. “I know that you love me, even if you hate me. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you find your way back to me.”

  She struggled a little, tried to pull herself away from him, but he tightened his arms.

  “Don’t,” she said again, her voice muffled as he pressed her face to his chest. Her entire body was trembling. Not afraid of him, but afraid of his feelings for her, afraid of his deceit. He let her go and she stepped back quickly, past him to a large bay window. Looking outside to the floodlit yard rubbing at her arms with her hands.

  Jack blew out a soft breath. He’d known it wasn’t going to be as easy as a piece of jewelry and a declaration of love. If it was, he’d have been disappointed. She had her principles, her beliefs. Jewelry, flowers, money, pretty words wouldn’t sway her. It was part of why he loved her. He picked up the bottle of white wine from the ice bucket and poured a few ounces into the wine glasses.

  “Dinner will be served shortly.” He held out a glass to her. “Come sit down.”

  She turned, tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear and then returned to him and took the wine. He put his glass on the table, then held out a chair for her as she slid into it. He sat to her right, at the end of the table, in the master’s chair.

  “A toast.” He raised his glass, forcing her to raise hers. “To us,” he said simply and clinked his crystal against hers. He watched her as she held the stem of the glass between her delicate fingers, her sensuous lips as she took a small drink, the erotic bob of her throat as she swallowed it. He wanted those fingers on his cock, his mouth on her lips, his hand on her throat. He wanted to possess her body and soul. He took a shaky drink of his wine and swallowed down his raging desire.

  “What would you like to talk about, Mira?” His voice was steady, no betrayal of his growing madness.

  She didn’t hesitate. “I want to talk about the troubles your organization is experiencing.”

  His passion died a little as he barked a laugh at her response. She was so fucking tenacious. He’d wanted this evening to be about them. “Can’t you turn your mind off, Mira? Can’t you just let this be a date.”

  “Maybe it’s relevant to Rob’s case.”

  He sighed, biting back his frustration. “I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow morning. Not tonight. I don’t want Rob to be a fucking third wheel on our date.”

  Mira was quiet then, running her manicured finger down her wine glass, her eyes glued to the motion. Nervous.

  Jack leaned toward her, took her fingers in his hand. “Let’s imagine we’re on a first date. No history, no knowledge, no anger. Can you do that?”

  Her eyes flashed up at him. “I’ve never been on a first date where I’ve received a diamond necklace as a gift.”

  “Mira,” Jack growled a warning and she bit her lower lip.

  “Okay,” she said, whisper soft.

  “Tell me about you.”

  “Okay,” she said again then hesitated, seemingly casting around for a starting point. “I’m an only child. My parents met and married later in life. My mom was 44 when she had me. She died of cancer when she was 62.” Mira paused for a minute, swallowed the memory, her sadness. “Dad died a year later. You know the rest.”

  A door opening and closing distracted them, then Bennett was there, setting two plates in front of them, a basket of bread. “I’ve left the dessert in the refrigerator, Mr. Creed, should you want it, and the brewer is set up so you just need to turn it on should you wish for a fresh pot of coffee.”

  “Thank you, Bennett,”

  The house manager nodded. “I shall not disturb you again tonight unless you need me.”

  “I won’t.”

  Bennett removed himself, not once addressing Mira. Jack narrowed his eyes in appreciation. Bennett was a smart man.

  Jack watched as Mira looked down at her plate. A medley of seafood sat atop a pile of mashed potatoes and asparagus. It was a work of art and smelled heavenly and he could see appreciation of it in her eyes. But she hesitated, so Jack reached over to her plate and stabbed a scallop with his fork. He brought it to her lips. “Open up,”

  She did, biting down on the fork as he slid it into her mouth. She closed her eyes and groaned her appreciation as she chewed it. “It’s delicious,” she said gracing him with a small smile.

  He pointed at her food with his fork. “Eat it then.”

  She did, tasting everything, the asparagus, the mash, shrimp and chunks of lobster and crab. She was breathtaking to watch. She’d never been deliberately reticent around food and he loved that about her.

  “Tell me what makes you special, Mira.”

  Mira’s mouth drooped as she laid her
fork down on her plate. She dabbed the napkin to her lips then took a sip of wine. “I don’t know. I’m a good lawyer. I’m tenacious, organized, I have a sharp mind and I’m very good at public relations.”

  Jack sighed and shook his head as he took a swallow of his wine. “You sound like you’re on a job interview.”

  Mira bit the side of her lower lip as she contemplated his words. “I guess I do, don’t I?”

  Jack slid a finger down bare arm, causing the skin to pebble. “How about I tell you what makes you special?”

  Mira didn’t reply, but he gave her a pass.

  “You’re so fucking passionate. I saw it the first day we met five years ago and then again in the courtroom, when you fought for the second-degree charge. It’s something that fuses with everything you do. It’s what makes you such as extraordinary lover.”

  He studied Mira as he said this. She flushed and dropped her eyes to her plate.

  “I see your compassion for people even when they don’t deserve it. I see your deep capacity for love and trust, which is why you’re so easily hurt. Your laugh unlocks my heart, your body unlocks my desire, your beauty is something I could stare at forever and never get enough.

  “I crave you, Mira. We fit together. We give each other what we need. You give me a reason to come home, a place to lay my heart, a well for my emotions. I give you the freedom to let go, to give up your control, to let me lead you, teach you, love you. Take you places you’re afraid to go.”

  He watched as tears rolled down her cheeks. She wiped her fingers under her eyes trying to preserve her makeup.

  He didn’t relent. “I want you kneeling at my feet, Mira, looking up at me with trust and love. Believing that I would never hurt you.” He reached over and drew the back of his fingers across her wet cheek.

  “How can I trust you, Jack. You hurt me.” Her voice was barely a whisper and she couldn’t meet his eyes. He heard her hesitation, the desire to give up and let him take her.