To Seduce And Satisfy

by Abby Gordon

  “Yeah,” she nodded, slumping against the back of the seat. “She had one weekend of incredible bliss and he said he’d be over Monday night, Hammond attacked and she hasn’t heard from him since. She calls and leaves messages, but he never picks up and never calls.”

  “Asshole,” muttered the man behind Quincy. “It wasn’t her fault, whether or not Hammond did rape her. You and Claire saved her and…”

  “I like you,” Debbie grinned.

  “Thank you,” he winked. “Ryan’s not really a bad guy, just a bit of a chauvinist. Not his fault. His father was an asshole.”

  Debbie glanced at Ryan, who was glaring daggers at Oscar. Deciding that everyone had enough to deal with it, she decided to let it pass.

  “It happens to the best of us,” she nodded, looking at Ryan who gave her a wary look. “Guess we both need more caffeine before we’re around people in the morning.”

  Quincy backed into his spot and shut off the engine. In the way she was beginning to love, he caught the back of her head and looked at her.

  “As long as he doesn’t take his coffee the way I do mine,” he murmured before kissing her.

  “Yeah, okay, find a room, you two,” Ryan muttered.

  Chuckling, Quincy released her. Winking, she waited for him to come around to her door. When the elevator doors opened, both MacLauren and Hancock were waiting. Word had definitely gone ahead of them, she realized.

  “Hammond made bail?” Quincy asked as they headed down the hall toward Keith’s office. Paul and David were already there, standing by the windows. “He’s roaming the streets?”

  “Supported by my half-brothers and others in my family,” muttered the CEO. “Dammit, I don’t understand how they can keep doing this. There has to be a reason.” He paced about his office before sinking into his chair.

  “We have to assume that, having failed at this, he’ll try an attack at Debbie’s apartment,” Ben started. “It’s not safe for them to go back there.”

  “What?” Debbie whipped her head around. “I live there and…”

  “You’ll move in here,” Keith interrupted. “There are several smaller apartments above the office levels. I’ve already called Kendra, the concierge. She’ll be here in a few minutes to take you around. You can have whichever one you want.

  “What about Serena?” Debbie whispered. “I don’t want her to know about this. She’s dealing with enough, but is she going to be safe? She’s just down the hall and Hammond’s already gone after her once.”

  “She can’t positively ID Hammond as her attacker this time,” Paul said. “Claire can only say that he sounded like her boss. That can be argued against as Claire didn’t like her boss, et cetera. You actually saw him. You are the one a jury would have to weigh his alibi against.”

  “Serena’s got three of my best men either with her or in the next apartment,” Ben assured Debbie. “She is never alone.”

  Nodding, Debbie relaxed slightly, then trembled. Wrapping her arms around her body, she glanced at Quincy.

  “Adrenaline let-down,” he murmured, stepping up and holding her.

  “Keith?”

  Debbie saw a curvy, fortyish woman in the doorway. Dark brown hair curled around a heart-shaped face with lively, pale blue eyes that were startling against the light, coffee-colored skin.

  “Kendra, this is Debbie and Quincy. Please show them the apartments on the list I gave you and give them the keys to whichever they choose,” Keith spoke. “Quincy.”

  Debbie saw an index card passed and frowned. Her curiosity was piqued when Quincy blinked then smiled. Kendra beamed.

  “Wonderful,” she enthused. “I’ve been hoping those would fill up with some nice people. Now, you just come with me and I’ll show you around. Some already have some furniture in them while others are completely empty.”

  Realizing she wouldn’t be going back to her apartment, Debbie froze. Her gaze went from Quincy to Keith and Ben. Her boss nodded in understanding.

  “I’ll send men over now. They’ll pack everything up and move it to whichever apartment you pick. I just need your key.”

  “Thank you,” she nodded. She slid the apartment key off the ring and handed it to him. That reminded her of something else. Leaving Quincy, she went to Paul, who gave her a suspicious look. When she crooked her finger, he lowered his head so she could whisper. “Quincy took me to Gray Shadows last night. I’m sorry about the way I’ve been. And thank you for looking out for me.”

  His hazel eyes bore into hers for a long moment.

  “Claire cares about you,” he said simply.

  “And I care about her,” she replied.

  He nodded and she returned to Quincy. As they followed Kendra, she heard Keith ask, “Is that something I want to know about?”

  Debbie didn’t mean to be indecisive. But with everything that had happened, she barely paid any attention to the first three apartments Kendra showed them. Only as they stood at the door of the fourth and a little boy ran out of one of the other two doors on the floor did Debbie blink and become aware of her surroundings. He whooped and ran to them, touching the door and then running to the elevator.

  “Alec Lexington,” a woman shouted through the open door. “Come back here.”

  “I win,” he crowed, clapping his hands. “I reached the box all by myself.”

  A harried, slightly overweight young woman appeared. “Alec, what am I going to do with you?” she gasped, shaking her head as she smiled at the boy dancing in the hall. “Your mama and Aunt Rose are going to go crazy when they realize…” her voice trailed off as she saw the three at the other door. “Good morning,” she whispered. “Hello, Kendra.”

  “Good morning, Elle,” Kendra smiled. “Keith asked me to show Debbie and Quincy some of the empty apartments.”

  Pale blue eyes lit up. “Neighbors? That would be wonderful!”

  “Yeah,” Alec shouted. “Neighbors.”

  Elle scooped him up in her arms. “He’s not always this loud,” she said hurriedly, backing up into their apartment. “He’s really a good boy. Really.”

  “I’m sure he is,” Debbie smiled. “It was nice to meet you.”

  Elle turned bright red even as she smiled back. A second later, the door closed over Alec’s protests. Debbie looked at Kendra.

  “Who are they?”

  “Alec Lexington, son of Lily Lexington, and Elle Custis-Jefferson,” came the reply as she keyed in the access code. “Ms. Lexington is…”

  “I know her,” Debbie nodded. “She’s my financial advisor. I heard she had a son, and that Rose Custis lived with her. Is Elle a relation?”

  “A cousin,” Kendra nodded, opening the door. “I don’t know the details.”

  Debbie smiled.

  “And even if you did, you wouldn’t gossip about them,” she murmured. “I can imagine the tales you could tell.”

  “If I thought about it,” Kendra replied smoothly.

  Debbie looked around the entryway. She’d heard all the rumors, practically from the moment she’d started working for MC. Nearly five years ago, Brody and Rose Custis’ parents had been killed in a helicopter crash in the Rockies. Brody had done a complete personality change and become a tyrant over his younger sister. As soon as she’d turned eighteen, Rose had moved in with Lily, one of her trustees. Lily had been pregnant, refusing to name the father. None of the three involved had ever commented on the rampant gossip that Brody was the father and refused to believe it and Rose had been reduced to near poverty because she took Lily’s side. Debbie couldn’t remember a cousin named Elle but that certainly added a new twist to things.

  Twist.

  Debbie came to a full-stop in the middle of the kitchen. Brody was a sexual dominant. If their names had been linked, that meant Lily had been his submissive. They both lived in the same building. Keith was friends with Brody, Ben, and… suddenly Debbie’s head swam as she remembered something each of the apartments Kendra had shown them had in common—a room wit
h a coded entrance. At first she’d thought they were panic rooms she’d heard the famously wealthy had. Now, with her growing knowledge of those around her, she wondered if they were something else.

  “Problem, babe?” Quincy asked, coming in from the dining room. “I like this one better than the others. I like the fireplaces,” he smiled.

  “And the coded rooms?” she whispered. He paused, looked at her and nodded slowly. “This one,” she stated. They were in it at the moment, and it felt right. And the other apartments had been on floors with no other occupants. Debbie was too used to some activity, to having neighbors nearby. And for some reason, something about the startled, pleased expression on Elle’s face tugged at her. “I want this one. I don’t know how much it is, but…”

  “I’ll work it out with Keith,” he smiled, kissing her swiftly. “Go to the coded door while I talk to Kendra.”

  Nodding, she went down the hall while he returned to the dining room where Kendra waited. She saw the woman briefly as she passed through the hallway before Quincy came striding down toward her. He pulled out the index card.

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  “A soundproof room,” he replied, punching in first one code, then a second. “To enter this room, your birth month, then mine.” She nodded as he slid the door to the right. “Nice.”

  Debbie stayed in the doorway and looked around. As it was in a corner, two walls were mostly windows, floor to ceiling, revealing stunning views of Battery Park and the rest of Manhattan. One wall was mirrored while the other, that had the door in it, had a large cabinet to the right that had several drawers and doors in it. Quincy paced the perimeter, muttering to himself, spreading his arms out as if measuring and mentally placing things.

  “Quincy?”

  “Welcome to the playroom,” he smiled, looking around. “I can arrange for a number of interesting things in here. A spanking bench. A St. Andrew’s cross.” He held out his hand and she joined him at the window. “All sorts of wonderful things we can try out at the Club and if we really like them, we can order our own and put them here.” Debbie felt the heat coil in her pussy as he pulled her against him. She could feel his hard cock pressing against her and wriggled, wondering if he would take her. “Not yet, babe,” he murmured, even as one hand slid down her back and gripped her ass. “But, by the time we get back after work tonight, I can have some things in here. That way I can properly spank you when you’re a bad girl.”

  “Me?” She batted her lashes at him. “When am I a bad girl?”

  “Right now,” he growled, his mouth trailing kisses down the side of her face.

  One hand pulled the silky cloth of her turtleneck down and his lips fastened on her pulse. She cried out as his other hand kneaded her ass cheeks.

  “Please,” she panted. “Please, master. Fuck me now.”

  His teeth scraped her skin as his hand left her ass before returning with a hard smack.

  “Behave,” he warned.

  Whimpering, she nodded, relaxing against him. “Yes, master. I’ll be good.”

  “For now,” he observed dryly. When he raised his head, she could see the heat in his eyes. It was mildly comforting to know that he was tempted to forget his plans and fuck her right there. He looked around and his mouth twisted in a smile. “First thing I’ll do is order a spanking bench and a few toys to use on you. I’m sure you’ll continue to earn spankings on a daily basis.”

  “Well, when you’re so good at giving them,” she replied saucily, wriggling her hips against his cock. “How can I not be torn between wanting to be absolutely perfect or absolutely horrible?”

  She twisted and slipped away from his grasp. She got to the door before he replied.

  “Debbie, we’re going to be alone all weekend. And have a room where no one can hear you.”

  Blindly, she reached out and caught the frame. All weekend. Alone. No one but Quincy to hear her pleas for him to take her. To do what he wanted to her, but, to please, please fuck her. Her fingers tightened on the wood as she fought the urge to turn around and beg him to take her right then and there. The effort had her trembling and she leaned against the wall, head bowed and her eyes closed. How the hell had her life changed so much in five days? One week ago she would never have believed anyone if they’d told her in seven days she would do anything for one man. And not just because of the sex. They were perfect for each other in so many ways.

  “Debbie?”

  She hadn’t heard him cross the room. He stood next to her and she looked up at him.

  “Do we still have to go to the Club?” she whispered. “Can’t we just come up here when we leave the office and…”

  She saw the relief in his eyes and realized he had been afraid she was going to call off everything. As if!

  “Oh, no, babe,” he smiled, turning her and bringing her back against his front. His palms covered her breasts and she was very aware of the nipple rings. “I’m showing you off and claiming you as my submissive publicly.” His lips brushed her ear. “I can’t tell you how much I want to do that. I’ve something special planned.”

  “What?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Debbie pressed her lips together in frustration, fighting the urge to ask more questions. She already knew it wouldn’t do any good. Except get her more spankings. And she had a feeling she’d get enough of those without adding to them.

  By four o’clock, she was convinced she’d done more in eight hours than she’d ever done in her life. She’d gone back and forth between meetings, leading her groups on the projects, and up to the apartment at three to tell the men where to put things. That meant getting hold of Claire because everything had been packed up, not just her things.

  “I don’t care what they do with my things,” Claire told her over the phone. “Throw them out, donate them, whatever. I don’t care.”

  “Claire, honey, talk to me,” Debbie whispered, curled up on the chair by the living room fireplace. “Is it Paul and David? What’s happened? “

  “It’s…it’s complicated.”

  “Yeah, I knew that already,” Debbie drawled. “Claire, I know about Gray Shadows. I know about the Club. Talk to me.”

  Claire gasped, then gave a little moan. “Quincy’s like them? Oh, Debbie, I’m sorry. I…I can’t talk about it.”

  The line went silent. When Debbie called both the office and Claire’s cell phone number, she went to voice mail.

  “Dammit,” she muttered.

  “Miss Sheldon?” one man asked. “What should we do with those boxes?”

  “We’ll put them in the far bedroom down the hall,” Debbie decided. As the men began carrying the boxes, Debbie called another number.

  “Paul Jensen.”

  “You hurt her.”

  “No.”

  “Paul, I just talked to her. I told her I knew about Gray Shadows, she said she was sorry and then hung up on me. Paul,” she wailed. “Claire’s my friend. My best friend. I swear, if you and David have hurt her…”

  “Debbie, I swear to you that we haven’t. Things are complicated.”

  “Complicated like the man she thought loved seducing her only to be in a threesome with his best friend?” Debbie lashed out as Quincy appeared in the entryway. “Like the two of you just wanting her as a sex slave or something?”

  “You don’t know anything about it,” Paul’s tone was cold and forbidding. “And we certainly are not treating Claire like a sex slave. I have to go.”

  The line went dead again. Debbie let her cell phone fall to the floor as she curled up and cried.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “They brought Claire’s things as well,” she sobbed. “I was trying to find out what she wanted done with them. She…” Quincy came to her, kneeling next to the chair and holding her. Debbie buried her face against his shoulder. “How can I be so happy while my only two friends are so miserable? They’ve always been there for me and I can’t do anything for them.”
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  “Shh, babe,” he murmured. “It’ll work out somehow. Maybe not the way you want, but the way it has to.” She protested slightly even as she nestled against him. “Now, you have one more meeting to get through before we get the weekend to ourselves.”

  She nodded and raised her head. Oscar and Ryan were in the entryway with a large box. Ryan carried a small leather bag.

  “Yo, Quince,” Oscar called. “You wanna tell us where to put this? It’s a bit on the heavy side.”

  “Yeah,” Quincy replied with a nod, standing. He helped Debbie to her feet and whispered in her ear. “Your spanking bench and some extra toys. Plus what you’ll wear to the Club.”

  Her jaw dropped. He winked at her before leading the two men down the hall.

  “Everything’s set, Miss Sheldon,” the original moving men came back to the living room. “You need anything else?”

  “No,” she shook her head. “No, thank you so much.”

  They left and she paused to gather herself. She wasn’t just some poor girl from the coal-mining hills of West Virginia. She was Debbie Sheldon, senior project manager for MacLauren Computing. A woman who was strong and intelligent, and submissive to a man who was even now preparing a room so he could spank her whenever she deserved it. She smiled broadly, before giggling to herself. Who would’ve thunk it?

  Grabbing her purse, she whisked out the door and took the stairs to the Programming Division five floors below.

  “Where the hell is she?” Quincy frowned as he paused at the living room archway.

  “Did you tell her to wait for you?” Oscar wondered.

  “No, and she probably headed down for the meeting,” he muttered, pulling out his cell phone. About to push the button, he shook his head and put it away. “She turns it off for meetings.”

  “You seem to have picked up on a lot of things about her,” Ryan observed as they left the apartment. Quincy pushed the button for the resident elevator. “Not to mention changed your plans completely in one week. You’re sure about all this?”

  “I’ve only been absolutely certain about a few things in my life. Joining the Army, going after the Captain, and making Debbie mine in every way possible.”