Sweet Submission

by Roxy Sloane

I say brusquely. “You’re all set now.”

  “Cam.” Isabelle grasps my wrist, and the heat of her touch is almost too much to resist. She tugs me back toward the tub, gazing up at me with a question in her eyes.

  “Will you help me out?”

  I swear I almost see desire flaring in that gaze, but I must be wrong.

  As difficult as it is, I keep my eyes averted while I help her out of the tub, trying to ignore the way my hands feel against her bare, wet skin. But as I reach for the towel, she’s suddenly pressing into me, her body molding against my torso, those perfect lips crashing into mine in a desperate kiss.

  It’s incredible. Hot but sweet, and eager as hell. Wrapping my arms around her, my aching cock pressed against her, I can’t resist returning the kiss, plunging my tongue deep into her mouth to demand her surrender. I lift her up so I’m holding her in my arms.

  Isabelle makes a whimpering noise. God, she has no idea what she’s doing to me. I could make her come like she never has before. It would be so easy.

  But I can’t.

  Everything about this is wrong. I feel like I’m taking advantage of her vulnerability and I’m not that kind of man.

  I gently put her down and move away, furious with myself for losing control. But one thing is certain: it can’t happen again. I won’t allow it. I grab the towel, opening it and handing it to her as I walk toward the door.

  “Get a hold of yourself,” I mutter. I’m not sure whether I’m talking to her or myself.

  I stalk from the room, slamming the door shut behind me. I can’t believe I’m leaving Isabelle standing in there, ready and wanting, but I know she doesn’t need a man like me.

  FIVE: ISABELLE

  The door slams shut behind him, breaking through my haze of desire.

  What are you doing?

  What was I thinking? I was trying to forget tonight, to bury myself in his body and leave the icky memories of Brent behind, and instead I completely embarrassed myself. I just felt so grateful to him for helping me, for being so tender. I wasn’t even thinking.

  Cam was gentleman enough to rescue me from that scene at the Underground and I responded just like the tramp Brent says I am.

  I bite back my stinging tears and towel myself dry with the huge fluffy towel Cam left me. Pulling on a luxurious white bathrobe, I head to the adjoining bedroom.

  The room is beautiful: decorated in a sophisticated style with a four-poster bed and an antique-looking dresser. I take a deep breath, trying to settle down. Everything’s going to be OK, I tell myself. Nothing bad is going to happen in a place with eight-hundred thread count sheets.

  I smile wryly at my old joke. Growing up, I was so sure that money would solve everything. That rich people were happy all the time. Why wouldn’t they be? They had everything they could want. They didn’t know about the stress and desperation the rest of us felt, what it was like to struggle every day just to get by.

  But now I know differently. I may be surrounded by luxury, but I’m just as messed up as before, maybe even more so. I shiver, wondering if that’s how Cam sees me now. Looking at myself through his eyes, I’m sure I must seem ridiculous. Pathetic and needy.

  I know he’s never liked me. Whenever we’ve seen each other before, he’s been totally uninterested. Polite but cold. Distant. Almost like he didn’t see me. Like I didn’t matter.

  But tonight, something changed. He saw me at my lowest point—and didn’t turn away. He was kind, he didn’t judge me. And then…

  I fall back on the soft bed and sigh. My body is still aching with lust from his masterful touch. Every moment when he was washing my hair felt charged. Even now, my nipples tighten to remember it. I’ve never had a man touch me like that: tender, but bold. And absolutely sure of himself. I was so turned on, I couldn’t believe it. And I felt passion when he kissed me, real desire. Nothing furtive or tawdry, just pure passion. I was so sure he felt the same way.

  Until he cut the moment short and practically bolted from the room. Of course he didn’t feel the same about me. He was doing a nice thing, and I totally misread the signs.

  But I can’t deny my feelings. The way my body responded under his hands. The purely animal heat that set me on fire. His touch felt so good, so natural.

  I could hardly hold back from dragging him into the tub with me. The whole time he was washing my hair, I wanted his hands on my breasts. His strong fingers on my aching clit. His cock sliding in and out of me to some wild, unstoppable rhythm.

  It was like being touched for the first time. My body waking up from a deep sleep.

  I didn’t know it was possible to feel this way. So alive. Every nerve tingling with desire and pleasure.

  Brent has never touched me that way, so deliberate and sensual. With Brent, even when I was turned on, wanting it, the way he rushed always made me feel used afterward. Empty. Like I was just means to an end. But Cam handles me like a master. Like I was made for him.

  Now, I find myself wondering what it would be like with Cam, to let him make love to me, tenderly, passionately. The warm blue eyes, glinting with a ruthless sensuality. Firm muscles flexing in his arms as he tenderly held me down…

  I can’t help imagining his hands on my body. When I was in the tub, I swear I could feel his excitement like some invisible force between us, drawing us together like magnets. And when we kissed…a jolt of electricity shot straight down between my thighs.

  My body wants him. It shocks me to realize that I do, too.

  Slipping off the soft robe and now completely naked, I stretch out on the bed, my hands stroking my skin. Running over the fullness of my breasts. I reach down, finding my most sensitive spot. I stroke softly, and the pressure sends shivers through me.

  Who is Cam, really? I thought I had him pegged. Mr. No-Nonsense Businessman. Effortlessly charming but still so cold and self-absorbed. But alone with him tonight, I sensed something much more passionate.

  I’m already wet, thinking about him. Just down the hallway, so close, he could come and find me like this at any minute… Just push the door open and see me spread on the bed, touching myself. The thought makes me hotter. I dip my fingers into my own juices, dragging them up over my clit. Hot bursts of pleasure spread through me.

  He would stand in the doorway, watching me. Not do anything at first, just let his eyes rove over me. Then, when I was moaning out loud, he would cross the room and—

  Suddenly, a noise cuts through my fantasy. My phone is ringing on the dresser. I try to ignore it and lose myself, but it rings again. And again.

  Annoyed by the intrusion, I finally snatch up the phone and check the screen.

  Brent.

  Seeing his name on the display is like a cold shower. He’s left three voicemails and I see seven missed calls. He’s been trying to reach me ever since I left the club with Cam.

  My stomach drops. It won’t be good. He gets so angry when I don’t answer my phone.

  Shaking with anxiety, I bring the phone to my ear and press play on the first message.

  “Isabelle! What the fuck?” His voice comes angrily. “You can’t just take off with any random guy who comes along. Paxton was totally pissed that you bailed, and you embarrassed me. I promised him a good time tonight. With you.” I could hear music and noise in the background; he must have called from the Underground as soon as I left.

  Next message. Now, he’s even more furious. Slurring, drunk.

  “You selfish bitch! Paxton and I were working out a deal and you totally blew it for me. He just left. This is all your fault. You better come home right now, Isabelle. You don’t want to fucking see what happens when you pull this shit with me. Get back here. Now.”

  I delete it. Then I listen to the last message. Brent’s tone has changed. He’s all honey and sweetness now. Playing the nice guy. But I know it’s just an act.

  “Isabelle, my darling sister. I’m worried about you. Where are you? Why aren’t you taking my calls? OK, I admit I went a little overboa
rd.” He laughs nervously. “Maybe I misjudged the situation. I thought you understood what we were doing in the club. Thought you would enjoy it, a fun little fantasy. I was wrong. I see that now and I’m sorry. Please come home. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I’ll be waiting.”

  I throw the phone down in disgust. Brent thinks his half-assed apology will make up for the way he treated me?

  It always did before.

  A voice in my head reminds me that Brent’s screwed up in the past. Over and over, and I’ve always forgiven him, every time. No wonder he thinks a few sweet words will make me come running back to him.

  But this time is different.

  Anger rises inside of me. He pushed me too far—and forced me to face everything I’ve been ignoring all along. How selfish he can be. How cruel. How he treats me like a plaything, and expects me to take it all without a word of complaint.

  I’ve been blind to it, still acting like that naïve sixteen-year old who worships the ground he walks on. Feeling like I owe him for every good thing in my life. But I’m all grown up now. And I realize something: I’ve changed.

  I want more. I deserve more.

  Cam’s face flashes in my mind. I catch my breath. That moment with him in the bathroom may have been a humiliating mistake, but it showed me a passion I’ve never experienced with Brent. Even knowing that Cam wants nothing more to do with me, it makes me realize that I can’t settle for less anymore.

  Brent’s been your whole world for years now. Without him, you’re all alone. What