Domination: Surrender Book Two

by Donahue, Tina

  “For the band. We never talked about it like you wanted. You didn’t look at the notes on my phone either.”

  He strode toward the house, talking over his shoulder as he put distance between them. “You can read them to me on the way to your place. We’ll discuss the video then.”

  Chapter 11

  Max gripped the steering wheel, driving slower than he had since taking driver’s ed. Cars tailgated his Beemer then whizzed past when they could.

  Jacquie cleared her throat. “Do you want to hear more?”

  He nodded. Speaking was too difficult.

  She read her other ideas from their fateful night at Surrender.

  Nothing she said registered. When she paused, he bobbed his head in response, urging her on, not wanting her to stop. Dragging out this drive for an hour or more wasn’t possible, neither was asking her to spend the night as he’d wanted. Come morning, his disquiet concerning any relationship would kick in and she’d wonder why he’d opened up to her only to go moody and distant. Wasn’t fair to her or him. They’d had a great time and now it was over, never to happen a—

  The GPS voice sounded. “Turn right at the next intersection.”

  He wanted to give it the finger, but rolled to a stop at the light.

  A horn blared behind him.

  Max glared into the rearview mirror at the driver.

  Jacquie touched his arm. “The light’s green. You can turn.”

  He didn’t want to, but completed the action, his speed barely registering.

  The GPS voice clicked on. “In two hundred yards turn right.”

  Hating the bossy directions, time slipping by, and his impossible need, he drove his Beemer at a crawl and passed the designated location.

  The voice said something he didn’t hear.

  He reset the device.

  Jacquie touched his thigh.

  His cock stiffened, its length growing and edging toward her hand. He looked at her then away. “What?”

  “My street’s back there.” Jacquie pointed behind herself. “You missed it. But that’s okay.” She rested her hand on her leg rather than his. “The trees and bushes hide the sign. If you keep going on this street and turn left, you’ll get back to the main road. Leave me here and I can walk to—”

  “I’ll drive you.” He made a hard U-turn, the oncoming car blasting its horn, Jacquie gripping her seat.

  Once at her place, he couldn’t breathe, wanting only to run and hating himself for it.

  “I had a good time today. Thanks.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

  He squeezed his fists, not daring to touch her. If he did…

  “Hope your work tomorrow goes well.” She popped her door. “If I get any new ideas, I’ll send them to you.”

  She didn’t have his email address. He didn’t offer it. “Night, Jacquie.”

  Disappointment touched her eyes. Her brief smile didn’t chase it away. “Night, Max.”

  She left and sprinted toward the apartment building.

  Even after she disappeared from view, he didn’t drive away, ambivalence eating at him. Go or stay his sole options.

  Cursing himself, he left.

  * * *

  Jacquie sagged against her apartment door, not wanting to think about what just happened with Max. She’d been on fix-ups with guys who had zero interest in her and they’d been less unglued than he had when they dropped her off.

  He wanted her. No one could convince her otherwise, the longing on his face obvious. The same as what Andy tried to hide from her when he’d said goodbye.

  “What is with you guys? Loving someone won’t kill you. If anything, I’ll die first.” From sheer frustration. She hit her door then rested her forehead against it.

  Her phone rang.

  Max. Andy. Both?

  She dug her cell from her purse and brought it to her ear. “Max?”

  “No.”

  The deep voice wasn’t Bree. “Andy?”

  “Uh-uh.”

  She needed to start looking at the display before she answered. “Who is this?”

  “Devlin.”

  Her pulse raced.

  He breathed hard, sounding pissed.

  “Hey.” She cleared her throat. “I didn’t expect… How are you?”

  He mumbled something she didn’t catch, except for the names Max and Andy, which sounded loud and clear.

  This wasn’t going well. “I’m sorry, what did you say? I didn’t hear you.”

  “Are you free tomorrow evening?” More rough breathing. “If you’re free…”

  “I am.” She pushed away from her door and paced. “But only after work. I get off at nine.”

  “I thought you stayed until the place closed.”

  That had been a one-time deal for her, because of him and the other guys. She and Bree generally stayed an hour after the club opened to make certain nothing needed their attention and then they split. Bree to her three guys. Jacquie to her dreary apartment. “No. I come in at noon or one and work during the day. Is nine too late?”

  “It’s perfect. Gives us time to sleep before the following afternoon when we’ll—”

  “Wait.” She halted and chewed her thumb. “I have to be at work then.”

  “You can’t take off? You don’t have any sick or vacation days?”

  She’d racked up several, not using them because there wasn’t anything she particularly wanted to do. Thank God, she hadn’t taken them to mope around here. “I’d need to ask Bree. Can I put you on hold for a sec?”

  “Sure. Tell her to say yes.”

  Jacquie laughed and phoned Bree.

  She answered on the first ring. “Hi.” Male laughter sounded in the background. “Everything okay?”

  “More than you know. I’ve been with Andy and Max so far and have Devlin on hold.”

  “Wow. You’ve been busy. Why are you calling me?”

  “Uh.” She sucked her lip.

  “Yeah?”

  “Is it okay if I take the day after tomorrow off? Devlin wants to—”

  “You got it. Fill me in on the details later.” She laughed. “Quit tickling me.” A screech. “Tav! Lucius! Damn. Cody!” She ended the call.

  That was easier than Jacquie expected, Bree had loosened up considerably since she’d surrendered her heart to her guys. Jacquie took Devlin off hold. “I browbeat Bree into saying yes. Where are we going? What should I wear?”

  “Nothing.”

  She gripped her kitchen chair, not from surprise or dread, curiosity. “What?”

  “If you must get dressed, whatever you wear when you kick back is fine. I’ll take care of everything else. My driver will pick you up at Surrender at nine sharp.”

  She would have been surprised if he didn’t have a driver. “Sounds good. See you tomorrow.”

  “You bet you will.”

  * * *

  Devlin tossed his phone on the sofa in his studio. Time to get back to his music for the new songs.

  He’d already made arrangements for his time with Jacquie before calling to learn if she was agreeable to seeing him. He figured she would be. Throughout the morning and afternoon, his confidence nosedived when he kept phoning and she hadn’t picked up.

  His stomach dropped.

  She’d thought he was Max then Andy, yearning and pleasure in her voice when she’d said their names.

  What the fuck did you guys do with her?

  He should call them and find out, except he didn’t want to know.

  When he identified himself, astonishment rather than pleasure sounded in her voice. She took too long to warm up.

  After their night at Surrender, he shouldn’t have waited to phone, but hadn’t believed Andy would have the courage to call her and Max simply wouldn’t, which left a clear path for him. Now he was third in line.

  And hating it. He had to make their time together as good as—or better—than what she’d experienced with Andy and Max. Devlin wasn’t eager to show them up, bu
t he didn’t want them or her leaving him in the dust either. When she and he parted, it would be on his terms, no one else’s. And they would part once their play ended. The same for Max. Andy the only wild card in this.

  Andy and Jacquie becoming exclusive wasn’t something Devlin wanted to imagine. God, if they got serious and she haunted their sessions and concerts while he still craved her but couldn’t touch… He’d be living a nightmare similar to what Paul, George, and Ringo suffered through when Yoko crashed their scene, making their friendship with John history.

  If he and the guys ended up in the same situation, Devlin still wouldn’t have her.

  No way was he going through such crap. Ignoring his music, he grabbed his phone and made different arrangements for her no one could top.

  * * *

  At 8:45 the next evening, Jacquie checked her phone. Neither Max nor Andy had called. She muttered an oath, hoping the day after tomorrow wouldn’t be the same as far as Devlin was concerned—their date over and him disappearing, never to be seen or heard from again.

  “Cheer up.” Bree leaned against Jacquie’s desk. “You only have fifteen minutes till show time.”

  “The other guys haven’t called. They won’t, will they?” She ground her fist against her forehead. “Once my time ends with Devlin, I’ll be back here alone and unwanted.” She dropped her hand. “Why’d you let me do this?”

  Bree leaned away. “I’m your boss and friend, not your parole officer.”

  “Do you think they’ll call?”

  “No idea.” She gestured to Jacquie’s cell. “You could phone them. Women taking the lead is allowed during this century and especially in this state.”

  Maybe when the week ended Jacquie would contact them, or maybe not. Her stomach kept cramping.

  The intercom buzzed. Jacquie depressed the button. “Yes?”

  “Your limo’s here.”

  Bree pumped her fists.

  Jacquie stood, her legs shaky. “Wish me luck.”

  “You don’t need it.” Bree hugged her. “You have a voice. Use it. Demand to know what their intentions are. Settle for nothing except a firm answer.”

  Easy for her to say. Her guys were here tonight, ready to party with her until dawn. “I’ll think about it.”

  She ran to the front and halted past the entrance, not knowing which limo was hers. Several waited in the lot for their exhausted yet sated clients to emerge from the club. Being a chauffeur had to suck given the endless downtime cooling their heels.

  Someone tapped her shoulder. She spun around.

  A staffer dressed in a snug tuxedo pointed. “The one over there is yours.”

  The liver-colored vehicle looked similar to what the Royals drove. Jacquie stepped closer and stilled. It was a freaking Bentley.

  Upon seeing her, the driver snapped to attention, his uniform crisp and professional. “Evening, Miss.”

  “Hey.” She lifted her hand. “Mind if I ride up front with you?”

  A frown creased his forehead but disappeared quickly. “I think it’s best you remain in the back. I’m certain Mr. Howe would expect and prefer it.”

  Devlin wasn’t even here, yet he called the shots. “Whatever you or he says.”

  Once inside, she fondled the leather seat as she might Devlin’s bod. To the right, a small refrigerator hummed. A TV screen faced her, a Dominant Men video playing, the camera trained on Devlin.

  Perspiration shone on his bare chest, fireworks behind him illuminating and lightening his hair. His leather pants couldn’t have been tighter, his bulge larger.

  She gripped the seat and whimpered.

  The Bentley took off, purring like a panther. She knocked on the dark glass between her and the driver.

  He lowered it. “Yes, Miss.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the destination Mr. Howe requested. There’s an intercom to your left. You can reach me from there by depressing the button.” The glass whirred up.

  Alone, she fooled with the TV, replaying Devlin’s closeup two, three, four, twenty times. Looking at Andy or Max seemed like cheating, even though it wasn’t. Why she thought this screwy arrangement would work between her and three guys wasn’t something she could figure out.

  Given the Bentley’s increased speed, they’d left the PCH and entered the freeway. Where they were heading, she didn’t know. The windows were too dark to see out or for anyone to glance in. She depressed the intercom button. “Are we nearly there?”

  “We still have several miles. I’ll let you know when we approach our stopping point.”

  It arrived slower than she’d expected yet quicker too, the vehicle leaving smooth roads to travel over rougher terrain. Where in the world are we? Her palms grew wet, her mouth dry, arousal drenching her pussy.

  The Bentley stopped.

  Her door opened. Devlin smiled.

  She drooled, her insides quivering. His black tee clung to him like skin, underscoring his muscular form, the short sleeves revealing his powerful biceps. Snug jeans rode low on his hips. A black leather cuff hugged his wrist.

  She wanted to smell it and him. “Hey.” She slipped her hand into his.

  After helping her from the limo, he eased her close.

  They kissed as if a decades-long war had separated them, her tugging his clothes, him doing the same to hers.

  Needing air, she broke free.

  The chauffeur had driven away, leaving them in the wilderness, except it wasn’t. Above them, the Hollywood sign shone, pushing back the dark. Beyond them, on this ridge, tiki torches surrounded a large cushion—big enough to hold them both—the illumination a soft gold rather than white. A picnic basket sat to one side, plates and utensils sparkling in the light. The night warm, breeze mild, stars shimmering.

  Her knees wilted, bumping his. “How? When? Wow.”

  He buried his face in her hair. “You’re surprised?”

  “Yes. I never… This is… Won’t cops show up and chase us away?”

  “I know several on the force. They moonlight doing security at the concerts. They’ll keep everyone away.” He slipped his arm around her waist and advanced to the cushion. “Good thing too.”

  “Why’s that?”

  After helping her down, he sat. “Because of you.”

  “Me?” She touched her throat. “What did I do?”

  “Nothing yet, but you will.” He fingered her tee and jeans. “Get naked.”

  Jacquie wasn’t certain if he was kidding or not. “Huh?”

  “You heard me.”

  She had to run her tongue around her mouth to moisten it enough to speak. “You’re serious?”

  “Never been more so.” He pulled off his tee and dropped it on the cushion.

  His spicy fragrance and musk enveloped her. She swayed.

  “You’re not keeping up.” He unbuttoned his jeans and lowered the zipper, exposing his thick curls.

  She rubbernecked for a better look, wanting his fragrant thatch, dick, balls, and mouth. “Okay.”

  “Okay what?”

  “Whatever you say.” Her sandals and clothes flew. Somehow, she’d stripped faster than him, helping to tug off his biker boots and socks.

  Naked, they drank each other in, wind caressing them, tiki torches and the moon providing enough illumination for them to see, while the distance, vegetation, and bright city lights hid them from view.

  An unrivaled scene.

  She weakened, her heart pounding.

  He eased her to the cushion and unfolded himself over her, his pecs brushing her nipples, their curls mingling, mouths joining, his kiss tempting and seeking, gentle rather than harsh.

  His tenderness awakened feelings she’d tried to dismiss, baring her innermost emotions to him. They made out as if time no longer existed, enjoying each other at their leisure, stopping to simply look at each other.

  He couldn’t have thrilled her more.

  She kissed his bristly chin. “How did you think of this?”r />
  His gaze drifted past, his manner uncharacteristically shy. “Will you promise not to laugh if I tell you?”

  “Of course.” She cupped his face so he’d look at her. “How?”

  He shrugged. “Read a couple romances. The kind you like.”

  Getting diamonds from him wouldn’t have thrilled her as much. Jewelry and other stuff were about having enough wealth to impress a woman. Taking time to please her as the person she was meant something. “Thanks.” She kissed him, not letting go until his chest pushed against hers as he struggled for a full breath.

  She eased her mouth from his and smoothed his hair. “Did you enjoy it?”

  He blinked several times. “Yeah. Why’d you stop?”

  “I meant the books.” She stroked his small nipples. “Were they good?”

  “Not like this.” He claimed her mouth and rolled them over, putting her on top.

  A plane jetted overhead.

  She flinched and put her hand on her ass to cover herself.

  Devlin eased it away. “Don’t worry. They can’t see. Even if they can, they don’t know who we are. Sort of like the voyeurs at the club.”

  She couldn’t argue with his reasoning. “Are the rubbers in the basket or your jeans?”

  “Neither.” He cupped her ass and pushed his hips into hers. “We’ll mess around later.”

  Didn’t make sense, unless… “We’re going to play in the Bentley?”

  “Nope. Somewhere you’ll never guess. For now, though…” He eased her from him, pushed up then helped her to a sitting position. “We’re going to eat since this is your preferred time for dinner.” He pulled the basket closer. “When we were last together, you barely had anything.”

  Except for his cock and balls which were definitely something. Jacquie wanted them more than anything else. “What do you mean my preferred time?”

  “Exactly what I said.” He pulled out two foil-wrapped packages, each a foot long. Subs.

  Even covered, scents from meatballs, marinara sauce, and cheese perfumed the air. “Ohmygod. Are those the kind with the toasted buns?”

  “What else except your fave?” He handed her one.