The Drake Restrained Compete Collection: Part 1 - 4 (The Drake Series Book 7)

by Lund, S. E.

  “I’m one of your biggest supporters, Judge. You’d make a fantastic candidate. You have my vote.”

  Ethan smiled at that. After a round of introductions, he waxed poetic about my father and their time in ‘Nam together and how Ethan had been ‘watching over’ me for the past decade. Then, Ethan narrowed his eyes and examined me as if coming to a decision.

  “I’m having a little get together on Friday with a dozen or so of my closest friends and supporters to talk about my campaign. I’d be really pleased if you could join us.”

  A feeling of warmth for Ethan flooded through me. “I’d be honored.”

  “Drinks at six thirty. Dinner at seven. Then we talk strategy.”

  I nodded. “Sounds great. I’ll be there.”

  “Oh, and why don’t you come by a bit early? Say sixish. Katherine will be joining us for dinner. You two seemed to hit it off at the party and it was so good of you to patch her up after her fall in the alley. She can show you some of her photos of Africa.”

  Adrenaline surged through me at that. Ethan was inviting me to come by and spend time with his beloved daughter, making my little seduction of Katherine all the easier.

  “That would be wonderful,” I said, smiling. We shook once more and I left the men alone, feeling guilty that the two of us were ambushing poor Kate this way. With Ethan and I united in the goal of pushing us together, she didn’t stand a chance.

  I felt only slightly guilty, of course.

  Friday couldn’t come fast enough.

  I pushed through my day, trying to keep my mind off the dinner and my plans for the lovely Ms. Bennet. I had a class in the morning, afternoon rounds and then checked in on all my patients before rushing back to my apartment to shower and change.

  I picked out a dark suit with a deep blue shirt and black tie for the event, wanting to look serious but stylish. Serious for the big wigs that Ethan would be introducing me to, and stylish to catch Katherine’s eye.

  There was more than a little adrenaline pumping through my veins as I drove from my apartment in Chelsea to Ethan’s Park Avenue building.

  I entered the parking garage, using the code Ethan provided so I could use the underground guest parking, going over my plan of attack one more time. I’d try to get Kate to talk – about her time in Africa, of which I was truly interested – and about her mother. If I could, it would raise the intimacy level between us. Revealing information to a stranger about your personal life, especially things that were painful, tended to break down the walls between you.

  Once two people commiserated about deaths in the family, especially of a parent, they were no longer strangers.

  They were intimates, and that was all I needed to get a little closer to Ms. Bennet’s very ripe little body, and between her thighs.

  I smiled to myself as I took the ornate elevator to the penthouse.

  She’d be shocked that I was there. I had no doubt that Ethan wouldn’t tell Kate I was coming. I had the sense that he understood that Kate was on the shy side when it came to men.

  She needed a little push…

  Someone buzzed me in and a servant opened the door to Ethan’s luxurious apartment.

  “Dr. Drake Morgan,” I said to the young woman who smiled and took my overcoat.

  “Please come in. I’ll let Judge McDermott know you’re here.”

  I entered the apartment and searched around, looking for Ethan, but he wasn’t in sight. In the living room, I saw Katherine sitting on one of the sofas, a look of such surprise and horror on her face when she saw me that I almost laughed out loud.

  Oh, Kate, Kate, Kate… Could you be any more transparent?

  A pink flush spread over her face and she frowned only slightly before forcing a smile. I smiled back, my hands in my pockets, feeling like the cat who swallowed the canary. I stood and waited for her to get up and invite me in, wanting to make her as uncomfortable and off-center as possible.

  "Doctor Morgan," she said, her voice quiet. She stood awkwardly and smoothed her dress, which was black velvet, the deep neckline showing off the creamy swell of her cleavage.

  I drank her in like a man dying of thirst.

  "Ms. Bennet," I said softly, my gaze lingering on her, moving from her head to her shoes and back. "You look… breathtaking."

  She made a funny face of embarrassment – half-smiling, half-frowning, hiding her smile inexpertly behind a hand.

  I offered her my hand, wanting to shake hers and kiss her knuckles. She slipped her hands behind her back as if she were afraid to touch me for fear I would ravage her right there on the plush oriental carpet – which I wanted to do, of course.

  Good. I wanted her to think of me that way. Such an image would make me all the more irresistible. I kept my hand extended, unwilling to retreat and just then, Ethan walked into the living room. He was still buttoning his vest when he came over.

  "Oh, Drake, there you are."

  Immediately, Kate held out her hand and I took it and kissed her knuckles, my eyes never leaving hers. Finally, after making my point, I turned to Ethan.

  "Judge McDermott," I said, extending my hand, using the formal form of address to reinforce his dominance over us all. "Thanks once again for inviting me tonight."

  Ethan shook my hand, his other hand on my shoulder. There was a gleam in his eye that said he was pleased to see me treating Katherine with such courtesy.

  "Drake, please, I insist you call me Ethan," he said, sounding like an old drill sergeant with his gravelly voice. "I see you've already spoken to Katherine. Come in and make yourself comfortable."

  Ethan turned to Kate. "I invited Drake here a bit earlier than our other guests so you could give him the tour and show him your photographs from Africa." He turned to me. "They're really good and intimate, telling the story of her trip. You want to understand what makes my daughter tick? You see those photos. Very artistic. She has real talent. I have to take a call or I'd join you myself."

  Kate looked completely flummoxed. "Of course," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  "Good, good,” Ethan said, rubbing his hands together. “The others should start arriving in a while. Get Drake a drink, dear. Be a good hostess for me, will you? The bartender had to go get more wine and Elaine is still busy getting ready. Heath isn't here yet."

  He left the room, smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

  Oh, Ethan… You’re making this far too easy. If the prize was anyone less desirable, it would have been a bit too easy, but the prize was Katherine.

  I couldn’t help but smile a bit smugly at Kate, who stood there, her cheeks red.

  "Would you like a drink?" she said, the dutiful daughter and hostess. She pointed to the bar in the dining room.

  "Know how to make a vodka martini?" I asked, trying with all my might to keep a smile of triumph off my face.

  She went to the bar and rustled around in the cupboard, retrieving a martini glass and a shaker, some vodka and vermouth. I watched as she placed some ice in the shaker, poured in a few ounces of Stolichnaya vodka and then added a splash of vermouth. She shook the mix for a moment and strained it into the martini glass like a pro.

  "Lime or olive?" she asked, pointing to the small tray of lime zest and olives.

  "Lime would be nice," I replied, enjoying the fact that she was serving me – like a good submissive would.

  She added a twist of lime zest into the martini glass and held it out to me.

  "How's that?"

  "Perfect." I took a sip, all the while staring at her over the rim. It was good. It was perfect. "Where'd you learn to mix a martini?"

  "I was a cocktail waitress for a few years during my undergrad. I trained as a bartender."

  "That's right," I said, smiling to myself. "Dave said you're paying your own way using scholarships and working part-time." I shook my head. "Stubborn girl. You're not having anything?"

  "No. I tend to get a bit argumentative when I drink. Soda and lime for me."

  I chuck
led softly at that. "I like argumentative."

  "I thought you were a Dom."

  "I am, but that doesn’t mean I like dumb women," I replied. "So you get a bit loose-lipped when you drink? That tells me that you usually hold your true opinion close to the vest and only let out your honest thoughts and emotions when under the influence of some kind of mind-altering substance. Alcohol. Serotonin. Dopamine…" I said, my voice trailing off. "I'll keep that in mind in the future."

  She frowned at that, no doubt disliking the fact that I was assuming we even had a future, and that I was planning on using alcohol or some other substance to loosen her up.

  Which I most definitely was planning to do.

  She was uptight. Wound up and in need of release. I’d be only too happy to provide that release. Nothing, and I mean nothing freed a woman to respond with abandon like restraints. Specifically, a pair of leather cuffs lined with lambs wool attached to a headboard. And a blindfold.

  Unable to see anything, all her other senses would be enhanced and she’d respond even more fully to touch, scent and taste. Unable to move or escape, she’d be free to respond to everything I did without guilt. Her pleasure and her orgasm would be mine, not hers. My responsibility, not hers.

  The very fact she would come – hard – while restrained and blindfolded would make everything even more intense because it would be our secret. Sharing a secret, especially one around sexuality, would cement our bond even more firmly.

  All this passed through my mind as I watched her pour herself a glass of soda with a squeeze of lime. Finally, she turned to me, avoiding my eyes.

  "How come you're here? You weren't on my father's guest list."

  "I'm one of your fathers biggest supporters,” I said. “We met in the health club the other day and I offered my support for his candidacy for the House. He said he wanted to repay me after I looked after your injuries at the fundraiser. When I heard you were going to be in attendance tonight, I was only too happy to accept."

  She frowned at that. "If you think this changes things, you're wrong."

  I made a face of mock confusion. "Changes what, Ms. Bennet?"

  She finally glanced at me. "The whole business with the research agreement."

  "That's entirely up to you,” I said, trying my best to look serious. “I'm still all yours, if you want me." I emphasized the ‘yours’ to drive home the point and said nothing for a moment to let it sink in.

  “Kate, I’m so glad your father invited me. I've wanted to meet you ever since I met your father and he started talking about you, but he never brought you anywhere in public. I think I was a bit infatuated with you just from his description of you." She frowned, but said nothing so I pressed on. "You took photographs while you were in Africa? I'd love to see them. See into that mind of yours and what makes you tick."

  "I don't know what my father meant by that,” she said, frowning. “What makes me tick. They're just photos." She started off down the hallway, her steps stiff, her back straight as if she were steeling herself. "They're in the study."

  I followed her, wondering why she was so uptight about showing me her photos. Once we were inside the study, I closed the door behind us and took her arm, turning her around gently to face me.

  She stared at my hand on her arm and I finally let go.

  "I'm sorry if you're unhappy that I'm here," I said and stepped closer to her. I wanted a moment of intimacy between us to break down her walls, overcome her shyness. Break the ice. "Your father wanted me to come early so that you and I could get to know each other. I'm glad he did."

  "Why would he want us to get to know each other?"

  "I guess because I said I thought you were a lovely young woman and wanted to get to know you better."

  Her cheeks flushed. "I thought you weren't the kind of man someone like me should get involved with."

  "You won't let me live that down, will you?" I said and laughed softly. Me and my big mouth, warning her off like an infatuated badboy in love with the girl from the right side of the tracks.

  "It's just that it would have been nice if I knew he invited you beforehand."

  I stepped closer and pinned her against the huge mahogany desk. She held her glass of soda between us as if she could use it to protect herself from my advances. I could easily take the glass out of her hand and kiss her right now, and part of me wanted to for I suspected that if I did, she would be totally confused and upset, but at the same time, would most likely kiss me back. But just in case she responded differently, I held back.

  I intended to kiss her tonight.

  Now just wasn’t the right time.

  "Would you have found some excuse not to attend?"

  She was quiet, turning her face away. "I would have liked the choice," she said. "But of course, my father always has to have things his way."

  "He's quite a dominant man himself."

  She looked up at me, finally, but avoided my eyes. Oh, Kate...

  "I can't seem to escape them.”

  "Maybe that's because you don't want to."

  That made her back stiffen. Perhaps I’d gone a bit too far, touched a raw nerve.

  "I left home to get away from him. Listen," she said, pointing a finger at me, focusing on a button on my suit jacket instead of my eyes. "I can't have anything to do with you, do you understand? I'm writing my research paper about climate change so unless you know something about that, you and I have nothing to talk about."

  I clucked my tongue. "You're trying too hard, Kate.”

  I took her finger in mine and turned it away. Then, I took her hand and stroked her palm, wanting her to imagine me stroking her body.

  "Me thinks the lady doth protest too much and that you do, in fact, want to have something to do with me."

  She pulled her hand away and blushed profusely. "I don't like being around you," she said, her voice low.

  "I think you do. You like me. You don’t like the fact that you like me. You don't want to like me but you can't help it."

  "I don’t believe you," she said with affront. "You're …" She clenched her fists. "You're awfully certain of yourself."

  Then, she tried to escape me, but I took her arm once more and leaned in close so that my face was just inches from hers. Her perfume wafted up into my nose and I breathed in deeply. It sent a jolt of lust right to my dick.

  "Yes. I know what I want."

  "Well, so do I. And it's not you."

  She pulled her arm out of my hand and turned to the door.

  As if to save the day, and with impeccable timing, Ethan entered. He saw us and smiled.

  "There you two are." He rubbed his hands together. "Has she shown you her photographs of Africa yet?"

  I cleared my throat, still affected by her nearness. "No, she hasn't."

  "Come on, Kate. Show Drake your photos. I know he's interested. He's been there many times with Doctors Without Borders. You two have a lot in common." He took Kate’s hand and then he laid a hand on my shoulder, pulling us both towards the wall where all Kate’s photos were hung.

  Then Peter, Ethan’s chief of staff entered the room. "Judge? There's a call for you."

  Ethan raised his eyebrows. "Duty calls. I have to take that, but you two stay here. Kate, show him your photographs. I'll be back when my call is finished."

  When he was gone, I turned to Kate but she refused to look at me. She stood silent, her glass of soda clutched in her hands like a some magic amulet to ward me off.

  "You're not really going to make me tell you about my trip to Africa are you?"

  "I most certainly am," I said, my voice soft. "I'm truly interested. I've been to Africa many times. Besides, I want to see into you, Kate. Right inside. Please, tell me." I waved at the wall and watched her, not giving an inch.

  "Nothing's going to happen between us," she said, her voice low in warning. "The meeting was a mistake so you might as well forget it. There's no reason for you to see 'right inside' me. We're opposites. You vote Republ
ican. I'm a Democrat."

  I smiled inwardly but forced my voice to be serious. "None of that matters, Kate, when we fuck. All that matters is that we both need what each other has to offer."

  "We're not going to… fuck," she said, whispering.

  "Whatever you say." I couldn’t stop my smile, but turned to face the photos so she wouldn’t see it. "I still want you to tell me about these photos. Your father is really proud."

  I heard her sigh heavily in resignation. "There are a lot of painful memories in them."

  "Just the happy ones, then."

  She pointed to a large picture of her with Nigel. I leaned closer, wondering about her friendship with Nigel, who I already knew was into BDSM, having seen him several times over the past few years at private dungeon parties.

  "That's us, the day we arrived in Niger. Our driver took it. Nigel had been there before but I had no idea what to expect and so I was excited."

  I peered at the pictures and listened as she told me about her trip. She talked about working for the UN program to provide food and medical care to new mothers. The photos captured the camps, filled with refugees who were desperate to escape the horrors of war.

  She studiously avoided talking about one picture in particular, so that was the one I focused on.

  "What's this one?" I pointed to one depicting two figures alone in the vast emptiness of the African desert.

  She covered her mouth and shook her head.

  "I can't."

  I tried to turn her face gently towards me but she fought and turned away. I decided not to force her, and instead, merely touched her arm to show that I recognized she was upset.

  Then Nigel himself walked into the study.

  Damn… Just when things were starting to open up between us…

  "Kate, my dear." Nigel pushed into the study and bent down to Kate, speaking in a conspiratorial tone. "Your father let slip that Dr. Morgan was coming a bit early, and so I thought I'd be chivalrous and offer my services…"

  I bristled at that. Did he imagine he was somehow protecting Kate from me?