Claimed

by M. Never

  “Up for a little surfing after this?” Michael asks with his big brown eyes as the tests are handed out.

  I shrug. “The rest of the day looks pretty wide open.”

  “That’s what I like to hear.” He grins, picks up his pen, and starts writing.

  I WATCH FROM THE BEACH as Michael rides in his last wave of the day. He’s quite the hottie—all tan skin, dark hair, and flat stomach. Michael was a military brat and lived all over the world, but he says Hawaii is home. When he was seventeen, his mother relocated to California, but Michael refused to leave. So, family friends took him in until he was able to support himself on his own. We’re kindreds like that. He put off school until he had enough money stashed away to work part time and still live comfortably. By the looks of him, his plan is working out just fine.

  He runs up the beach with his surfboard under his arm and his body dotted with water droplets. As I watch him approach, I can’t stop myself from imagining another face grinning at me from the shoreline—one with crystal-blue eyes, a seductive mouth, and tattoos on his skin. A face that haunts me when I sleep, and is impossible to find when I’m awake.

  “Ellie? El? Where’d you go?” Michael asks pulling me out of my daydream. I smile, hiding the embarrassment of being caught.

  “Nowhere, I’m right here.”

  “Sure about that, gorgeous? You looked like you were visiting la-la land.”

  “The ocean must have put me in a trance.”

  “The ocean, huh?” he pokes fun.

  I smack his stomach. “Okay, maybe it was a totally hot surfer. But he’s gone now.” I pout.

  “You think you’re funny?” Michael raises his eyebrows devilishly.

  “I think I’m hilarious.” I start to giggle nervously.

  “Let’s see how funny you are after I throw you in.” He lunges at me.

  “Michael!” I screech as he hauls me over his shoulder and jogs toward the water’s edge.

  He then tosses me in and wrestles with me under the water. I come up for air, gasping and laughing all at the same time.

  “You’re a jerk.” I splash him.

  “And you’re hilarious, remember?”

  “Yes. And now very wet.” I wade back to the shore.

  “Is there a better way to be?” he asks salaciously.

  I roll my eyes and splash him again. Men.

  Once dry, Michael picks up both boards. “I’m going to the North Shore to surf tomorrow,” he tells me as we walk to our cars. “Want to come? There’s supposed to be a kickass party on the beach, too.”

  “That sounds like fun,” I tell him as he slides my surfboard into the backseat of my Jeep.

  “Perfect. I’ll pick you up around noon. I have to work in the morning.”

  “I’ll be ready.” I smile. I am nowhere near skilled enough to surf North Shore waves, but I like hanging out on the beach and watching everyone else. Especially Michael.

  “You know, I can come over later tonight if you want.” He steps closer to me and puts his hands on my hips, smelling of salt and sand. “That way I don’t have to wait a whole twenty-four hours to see you again.”

  “Is that such a torturous amount of time?” I flirt.

  “For me, yes. You, I wonder sometimes.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I question him.

  Michael doesn’t answer; instead, he leans in and presses his lips firmly against mine. I kiss him back, but the fire doesn’t burn as brightly on my end. I’m trying, I really am, but the past and all these crazy feelings I have are holding me back.

  Michael sighs when I pull away, pressing his forehead against mine. “One day, whatever demons are inside of you are going to have to come out. And when they do, I’ll be right next to you.”

  I stare into Michael’s big brown eyes. They’re so sweet and kind. I almost feel guilty for keeping all my secrets from him. But what would he think if he found out about my past? That I was owned? Or that there’s an hysteria of conflicting desires inside me that I can’t make heads or tails of? I don’t respond because what can I possibly say? I can’t make him any promises or give him any guarantees.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I kiss him chastely on the lips.

  “I’m counting on it.” He spanks me playfully on the ass, and I’m flooded with a million emotions, and way too many memories to even count. My breathing speeds up and my head feels light as I climb into my Jeep. “You’ve been such a good kitten; it spared you from ten.” I try to hide everything I’m feeling as I turn on the car, unsure if Michael senses anything is off. I say one last goodbye, and then speed away with the ghost of Kayne’s hands stinging my ass.

  I drive around until it’s dark, just letting my idle thoughts wonder. “You are so sexy. I can’t tear my hands or my lips or my eyes off of you. You’re my most prized possession. I meant it when I said I would kill for you, Ellie. I’d do anything for you.”

  I pull into my little apartment complex a few hours later, park, and then just sit in the car under the cover of night. I clutch the steering wheel and rest my forehead on my hands. How would I even begin to look for him? Someone who doesn’t exist, at least on paper. Maybe I should put an ad on Craigslist. Desperately seeking slave owner.

  It’s official. I’ve completely lost my mind.

  I think what I really need is a big glass of wine, a bath, and a sleeping pill. Maybe a dozen of them.

  As I get out and walk to the front door of my duplex, I resolve to put Kayne Roberts behind me. Right now, this second. My life is good, I’m living out my dreams, and I have an amazingly sweet guy who is trying his damnedest to be everything I need. What more can one person ask for? “No matter where you go or who you’re with. You’ll always be mine.”

  I walk up the steps to the second floor landing like I’m dragging rocks. I’ve been bugging the super for weeks to fix the porch light. I hate coming home late and not being able to see my front door.

  “You know, Ellie,” a male voice says from behind me, and I nearly jump out of my skin. “The first rule of protection is self-awareness. And a young, beautiful girl like yourself, sitting in her open Jeep all alone in the dark, just begs for some sick pervert to pounce.” Jett emerges from the shadows, the small light from his phone illuminating his features. I freeze in place for a split second before I tackle him. “Jett!” It’s an involuntary reaction.

  “I missed you, too, sweet thing.” He chuckles, squeezing me hard. I’m overwhelmed with emotion as Jett holds me in his arms. And in Jett fashion, he hugs me for as long as I need.

  “Do you make a habit of lurking around dark porches?” I ask shakily, “Or just mine?”

  “Depends,” he answers flippantly, releasing me. I can’t see much of his face, but I can make out the shadow of his smile.

  “What are you doing here?” I gain my wits while wiping away the stray happy tear from the corner of my eye.

  “Do you want me to tell you while we’re standing in the dark, or shall we go inside and talk?”

  “Inside.” I quickly unlock the door and flick on the lights with Jett right behind me. My apartment isn’t anything extravagant, it’s nothing like the opulent room Kayne kept me in. My most expensive piece of furniture is a Pottery Barn couch. I figured I was going to be doing a lot of studying in my little living room, so I might as well be comfortable. I haven’t regretted my purchase for one minute.

  “Do you want something to drink?” I ask nervously. Why am I suddenly nervous?

  Jett watches me with entertained eyes as I fidget around my apartment, opening and closing the refrigerator door like I have OCD.

  “I’m good, Ellie, but maybe you should have one?” He raises his eyebrows suggestively. I grab a water from the fridge and sit down on the couch. Jett follows, plopping down beside me. “Hmmm.” He bounces a few times. “Comfy.”

  I nearly burst out laughing.

  “It’s good to see you smile,” Jett says.

  “It feels good to smile,�
� I tell him. There’s a few seconds’ pause.

  “Why are you here, Jett? Not that I’m not happy to see you, it’s just so out of the blue.” I’m not complaining, trust me.

  “I’ve come to deliver a message.”

  “A message?”

  “From Kayne.” He pulls an envelope out of the back pocket of his jeans and hands it to me.

  I take it, inspecting it curiously.

  “Open it,” he urges.

  My hands start to tremble, and my heart starts to pound as I rip it open. You wanted this, I remind myself—repeatedly. I pull out the contents of the envelope, and am now thoroughly confused. “A plane ticket?”

  “There’s something else,” Jett informs me. I look inside the envelope again, and pull out the thin piece of paper that was hiding under the ticket. I unfold it to read its contents, and just like before, only one word is scribbled:

  I can’t explain what seeing that word does to me. It unleashes so many sparring emotions, it feels like they’re trying to kill me.

  “Ellie?” Jett’s voice sounds far away. I look up at him not even realizing I started to cry.

  Jett takes my hand. “I know you went through a lot. We all did. But if there is any chance you can forgive him, get on that plane tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” I study the ticket. Yup, tomorrow’s date, to “Bora Bora?”

  Jett shrugs.

  “How is he?” I ask guardedly.

  Jett shoots me a sad smile. “Better, now that he stopped drinking and started showering again.”

  “Did he really take me leaving that hard?”

  “You have no idea, Ellie.” His tone is bleak.

  “Why didn’t he come himself?”

  “He didn’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable. Although, personally, I think he’s just afraid of your right hook.” Jett winks.

  I roll my eyes. “It probably didn’t even hurt.”

  “Ellie, you slapped him so hard, I felt it.”

  “He deserved it.” I defend my actions.

  “I suppose on some level he did. But what he really deserves now is your forgiveness,” Jett implores me. “Not just what he deserves, but what he needs.”

  I crush the envelope, ticket, and piece of paper to my chest conflicted. This is what I wanted, so why am I having such a hard time coming to terms?

  “I can’t make any promises I’ll be on that plane.” It’s the truth. It’s time to pull the trigger, and I’m hesitating. I’m pretty sure instances like that can get you killed.

  Jett just nods. “It’s your choice. A car will be here to pick you up at noon. Think about it, Ellie.” He puts his hand on my knee and then stands up.

  “Are you leaving?” I follow his movements worried.

  Jett nods. He looks the same—A shock of blond hair, turquoise eyes, and a quiet air of authority.

  “But you just got here.”

  “I did what I came to do. Now it’s time to go.”

  I frown.

  “If you make the right decision, you’ll see me again,” he says with one finger under my chin.

  I look away. I have a lot of thinking to do, and not a whole lot of time to do it. I stand up and reluctantly walk Jett to the door.

  He stops just before he leaves, looking at me with those with penetrating eyes. “This is his last attempt, Ellie. If you don’t show up, he’s disappearing, and this time it will be for good.”

  I respond silently with a confused expression. He kisses me on the cheek then vanishes into the darkness.

  Disappearing for good?

  I WAIT IMPATIENTLY IN THE car while Jett and Ellie’s silhouettes move slowly around her apartment. I can’t stop my leg from shaking or my heart from hammering. As soon as I saw her pull up, I wanted to rip her out of the car and crush her body against mine. I wanted to feel her lips and smell her skin and taste her sweetness. I want what we had back, every single thread of it.

  It feels like hours have passed by the time Jett leaves Ellie’s apartment. He slips into the driver’s seat and turns on the engine without a word. I wait for a report, but he just throws the car into drive and pulls away. I burn a hole through the side of his head as he rolls the window down and plays with the radio.

  “Are you fucking serious right now?”

  “What?” Jett asks aloofly as his hair flutters in the wind.

  “Are you going to tell me what she said, or do I have to beat it out of you?” I ask crazily.

  “First of all, you wish you could kick my ass. Secondly, all you had to do was ask me nicely.”

  “Jett,” I growl. “This is not the time for fucking around. Is she coming or not?”

  “I don’t know,” he answers directly, and my heart drops out of my chest.

  “She still doesn’t want to see me?”

  “I don’t know that, either.”

  “Well, what the fuck do you know?” I erupt.

  “Jesus, chill out. I know if you keep acting like this you’re going to be minus one girl and one friend.”

  I put my hand over my face and let out a frustrated sigh. I don’t think I can survive living one more day without Ellie.

  “Please, Jett,” I say as calmly as possible. “Tell me what you do know.”

  “Much better, cocksucker.”

  I glare at him out of the corner of my eye.

  “I think she wants to see you. She still seems conflicted. But she did ask about you.”

  “What did she ask?” I’m starving for any morsel of information I can get.

  “She asked if you were okay. And why didn’t you come yourself.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  “It’s anyone’s guess.”

  “For fuck’s sake, you read women like tarot cards, and you can’t tell if she wants to see me or not?”

  “I think she does. I also think she’s scared.”

  “Of what?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe you slapping a collar on her and locking her in a dark room?”

  “That isn’t fucking funny.” I can’t stop myself from smirking. “I did love her in that collar, though.”

  “Didn’t we all.”

  Jett pulls up to our destination. I stare idly at the plane. “Let’s do this.” He slaps me on the arm.

  I nod with a knot the size of Texas in my throat. I’m half considering driving back to Ellie’s house and throwing her over my shoulder so she has no choice but to come with me, but I don’t think that scenario will fly. I don’t want her to feel forced or like she’s being backed into a corner. I want her to come because she wants to. I want her to see for herself that I’m not the tyrant she believes me to be. Yes, I love dominance and submission, but I also love Ellie in any way I can have her. She controls the playing field, and I’ll abide by her rules. Even if that means changing who I am. For her, I would do it. For her, I’d do anything.

  “Clock’s ticking, Kayne.” Jett slams on the hood of his Chevelle.

  I take a deep breath and get out of the car, carrying with me the most lethal arsenal on the planet.

  Hope.

  I LAY AWAKE STARING OUT the window at yet another clear blue Hawaiian morning.

  After Jett left last night, I skipped the bath, and went straight for the wine and sleeping pills. They helped me relax, but in no way provided the restful night’s sleep I was hoping for. I tossed and turned, dreaming about majestic blue eyes, a firm hand, and clashing feelings. Throwing the covers off, I get out of bed. In the kitchen, I pick up the envelope that has the plane ticket and note stuffed inside. I pull out the white folded piece of paper and stare at the word written in his handwriting: Cupcake. That one single word holds so much power it could be deemed a deadly weapon. “I’ll use it so you know you mean more to me than just sex.

  “Do I?”

  “Yes, baby. So much more.”

  It’s amazing how you can get handed exactly what you want and not feel anything like you thought you would. I thought this would make me h
appy, make me excited, but all it makes me is anxious. I stare at the word for what feels like forever, finally deciding I have to see him. I need to figure out if what I’m feeling is real or just a psychotic episode. And if I’m going to do this, I need to go shopping! A girl can’t reconnect with her ex-slave owner wearing the tattered old rags she calls clothes hanging in her closet.

  In record time, I change into a denim miniskirt and tank top, throw my hair into a ponytail, and grab my keys off the kitchen counter. I’ve given myself exactly four hours to shop, shower, and pack, leaving one hour to hyperventilate before the car picks me up.

  I DUMP MY HAUL OF sexy little sundresses, underwear, and bikinis onto my bed. Not bad for a few hours’ work. I pack in a hurry, leaving out the white tube dress with hot pink embroidery on the hem and the strappy wedge heels I fell in love with at first sight. I shower and blow-dry my hair then attempt to apply some makeup. Where is Jett when I really need him? Luckily, I received a crash course at the MAC counter after one of the makeup artists witnessed me trying to apply eyeliner. After she had rubbed the crooked lines off my eyelids, she informed me that all I really needed was a little eye shadow and a few thick coats of mascara. Then she applied a shimmery brown powder all over my face and stained my lips a bright pink. She said the secret to makeup is using just enough to enhance my natural beauty. I believed her, because when I looked in the mirror, I still felt like myself only sexed up a bit. It really is amazing what a little makeup can do.

  I’ve come pretty damn close to recreating her masterpiece.

  I’m barely finished getting ready when there’s a knock at my door. My heart freefalls into my stomach. It’s time to go. I open the door to a tall, nice looking man dressed in black with a driver’s hat on. “Miss Stevens,” he addresses me professionally.

  “Yes.” My voice is small.

  “All set to go, ma’am? Can I carry your bags?”

  I can’t see his eyes behind the dark glasses he’s wearing, but his wavy brown hair is tousled at the nape of his neck and his grin is relaxed, mischievous almost.