Bound (Forbidden Series - Book 1)

by Anne, Melody

  Blake was good at reading people. He knew who he should go into business with and who he shouldn’t. He also knew who he should sleep with and who he shouldn’t. And he knew that he should send Jewell back to where she came from. Immediately.

  He just wasn’t ready to do that.

  “Go and shower,” he told her, needing a few minutes alone to regroup.

  “Okay. Where?”

  From her position in the entrance to his living room, she took it all in, her eyes wide. He tried to see the apartment from her point of view. Yes, it was large. Very large. Blake liked having a lot of space. Not much furniture cluttered it up, and he had absolutely no knickknacks.

  The only semblance of an emotional connection in the entire room was a framed photo of him and his brothers that was hanging on one wall. Tyler had brought it over while Blake was away, and the pest had hung it up without permission. Blake had vowed to take it down, but it was in the exact same place five years later.

  He was reminded of his unfulfilled vow when he saw Jewell gaze at the photograph. He didn’t want her getting any ideas about him, thinking that he was anything other than a cold man with one thing on his mind. The picture showed him smiling, showed a softer side of him. That side wasn’t real. It had just been a moment — a small moment in time. He rarely — very rarely, — allowed such things to happen.

  “The shower you will use is up the stairs, third door on the right. That will be your bedroom.”

  Jewell jumped at the sound of his voice, and when she didn’t move immediately, he swiftly loomed over her, making her flinch.

  Good. He liked to keep her off kilter. He wanted to shake her from the innocence she pretended to have. Damn it for its deceptiveness. It made him want to protect her, and that was ridiculous. She didn’t need protection; she knew all too well what she was doing. She could put on the innocent act all she wanted, but it wouldn’t change where they would end up, and it wouldn’t change the fact that he would cast her aside when she was no longer of any use to him.

  “When I tell you to do something, I expect you to move immediately,” he said, reaching behind her head, tugging her hair, forcing her head up so she had no choice but to look at him.

  “I’m not arguing with you. I was just looking for the staircase,” she said, a bit of fire in her tone.

  Yes, he’d startled her, but she wasn’t cowering in front of him. Interesting. He debated for a moment whether that pleased him or not, then finally spoke. “We could just head straight to the bedroom if you prefer.”

  Without giving her a chance to answer, he bent down and took her lips, then drove his tongue inside her mouth, desperate for another taste of her.

  Completely shaken once again, now by the immediate current of electricity that shot straight to his groin, by the erratic beating of his heart, by the sudden blankness enveloping his mind, Blake pushed harder, trying to drive the feelings away. Lust he could handle, but he couldn’t accept any sensations less easy for him to master.

  Pulling her even more tightly against him, he plundered her mouth, greedily swallowing the groans she couldn’t hold back and then raising her passion higher. Now desperately curious to feel his effect on her, he slid his hand inside her waistband and curved his fingers around her smooth behind before dipping them between the front of her legs and entering her wet heat.

  He was indeed a predator, and it felt so good. Leaning back, he looked into her half-closed eyes. “You respond well,” he said, mingling praise and a bit of mockery in his tone.

  Her reaction was swift and fierce. She jerked back and — only because he allowed it — moved a step away from him.

  “I’m just doing my job,” she said before turning and leaving him behind, proceeding to the staircase in a measured walk, showing him that she wasn’t running in fear, but going of her own free will, and paradoxically doing what he’d told her to do.

  He took a step toward her, then stopped himself. He would let her have this one small victory. He didn’t want to break her spirit too soon; if he did, he’d lose interest. He knew quite well that he could have her on her knees within seconds, begging him to enter her slick heat, but part of the reason he was so intrigued by this woman was that she didn’t just roll over and let him have her.

  Yes, she obeyed his orders, but he’d be a fool to miss the fierce pride in her expression, the self-loathing she felt for desiring him. He should be furious, should return her right away, but didn’t he sleep with enough women who cowered and kowtowed, and with so little effort on his part? He was sure Jewell would succumb, too, but wouldn’t the journey to her downfall be much more entertaining?

  That thought didn’t sit right with him, and Blake marched over to his liquor cabinet, poured himself a stiff drink, and swallowed it swiftly before refilling his glass. She had power, too much power, and he needed to take that from her, get it all for himself.

  Yet he was enjoying her reactions to him. Damned if he knew why, but he was also enjoying the fire that seemed so easily to light up within her eyes.

  Blake walked up the stairs, entered her bedroom, and looked over at the closed bathroom door. Hearing the shower running, he found himself wanting to join her, wanting to speak to her. What was her story? How had she ended up at Relinquish Control? And why in the hell did she fascinate him so much?

  Leaving the room, he went into his own and shed his clothes. As he climbed into his shower, he decided against spending the night in the same bed with her. He wasn’t in control enough to know how he would respond when he sank inside her, and he couldn’t take the chance that he might be consumed by any emotion.

  He really might have to send this woman back.

  He almost panicked at the thought. “Not yet,” he said aloud, shocked when the two words resounded off his shower walls. Now he was talking to himself. Maybe he should spend a day with his brothers. They could assure him he wasn’t crazy or they could at least throw some light on what in the hell was going on with him.

  As Blake got into bed, he wondered what Jewell was doing right then. Was she applying some of the expensive lotion sitting on her bathroom vanity? Was she slipping on the silk pajamas he’d had laid out for her? Was she thinking about him?

  He shouldn’t give a damn, but he wanted to know what was happening inside her head. He wanted to know desperately. He’d never before brought a woman to his apartment. It was his sanctuary. It was a place to which he certainly didn’t invite strangers. That was thoroughly practical. If women didn’t know where he lived, there was less chance they would hassle him when he was finished with them.

  So why had he brought Jewell here? Damned if he knew.

  His personal assistant had been shocked when he called her a few hours earlier and told her to find night wear and women’s toiletries along with a collection of clothing that would be suited for any occasion. Of course Jewell came with her own clothing, but he didn’t like the sort of outfits McKenzie chose for her escorts.

  His assistant hadn’t questioned him, and he was grateful that he had a semblance of respect for one woman in his life. More than a semblance, actually. He liked her as a person.

  Now, if only he could find some solace in his own apartment. After fifteen minutes of lying on his bed wide awake, Blake knew the only thing that was going to help him was some intense sweating.

  He threw on some workout clothes and went out into the hall. Walking past the room Jewell was in, he paused, his hand lifting toward her doorknob for only a millisecond. He turned away and went down the main stairs, then down another set of stairs to his home gym.

  Turning the setting on his treadmill to a respectable speed, Blake ran until Jewell was flushed from his mind. Then, after climbing back up both sets of stairs, he rinsed off in the shower again and collapsed onto his bed. He was thankful when he finally felt sleep claiming him.

  Chapter Nine

  Jewell felt as if she had sandpaper in her eyes. She didn’t want to open them, didn’t want to wake up. It ha
d taken her hours to fall asleep the night before. When she was slipping on the pajamas she’d found laid out on her bed, she’d heard Blake’s soft footsteps in the hall outside her room. He’d paused by her door, and she’d held her breath.

  She wasn’t sure whether it was from anticipation or fear. But when he continued walking, she’d let out her breath and slid onto the bed, her knees unable to hold her. She had listened for him to return, and a long time later, when she heard his footsteps again and he again paused by her door before continuing on, her body had tensed — just like before.

  Only then had she finally been able to nod off and forget her troubles. Now, she was gripping the covers beneath her chin and forcing her eyelids together, afraid of what she might see if she opened them. He might be sitting there watching her. Though she knew he wasn’t there — she couldn’t explain why; she just knew. But still, she had a sick feeling in her stomach.

  Finally, fully aware that she’d never get back to sleep, ever so slowly she lifted her eyelids. She was on her side and facing the empty expanse of the huge bed. It took a moment, but she noticed a piece of blue paper on the pillow beside her.

  She gazed at it as she worked on sitting up. Her name was written neatly at the top. Did she want to read what it said? There was also a small box sitting next to the note, and she was certain she didn’t want to know what it held.

  But this is what she’d signed on for. She knew she couldn’t get out of it, so, ignoring the box for the moment, she reluctantly lifted up the note and unfolded it. She read through it twice, her cheeks flaming before she looked with disgust at the box.

  What had she gotten herself into?

  You did well last night, but you have a long way to go before I am pleased. I’ll be at work, but I want you to be thinking of me while I’m away, so use the device in the box immediately after you wake up. Keep it inserted all day. Do not take it out! I will do so when I’m ready for you. You’ll find a list of instructions on other matters sitting on the kitchen counter. I will be back at six this evening, and I expect you to be ready and waiting for me.

  Blake

  Jewell picked up the box gingerly, with a moue of distaste, and just stared at it. Did she really want to see what was inside? Did he know she hadn’t been with a man before? He had slipped his finger inside her. Had he been able to tell they wouldn’t fit together? Was the device meant to help somehow?

  That seemed the most logical explanation if he wanted her to insert something there.

  When she lifted the lid, she found a bullet-shaped device that had her blinking at it in question. It was really quite small, and that didn’t make sense if he wanted to stretch her out to accommodate his impressive size. She twisted the thing in her fingers and wondered why in the world he had given it to her. And what would happen if she defied him?

  If she did this, though, would it make sex with him less painful? How? She didn’t seem to know anything anymore, and that was almost worse than anything else. She remembered a time when she’d been excited about the idea of having sex for the first time. Didn’t everyone say how magical it was? Instead of finding magic, she was selling her virginity to someone she didn’t even like — from what little she knew of him.

  What did that make her? Stupid question.

  Tears threatened, but she wouldn’t let them fall. None of this was about her. She would do whatever it took to protect her brother, to keep her promise to her mother, who’d been a wonderful parent and her best friend. Jewell missed the woman so much that she still ached.

  Yes, things could be a lot worse. Yes, Blake was cold, yes, he was demanding, and yes, she knew he wanted to take all he could from her. But at least she was attracted to him, even if it disgusted her to feel that way.

  She picked up the “bullet” and the small tube of lubricant that accompanied it and moved to the bathroom, deciding she needed another shower before she did anything. Just looking at the device made her feel dirty.

  When she climbed from the shower, the steam hanging in the air, she picked up the toy and applied the lubricant, following the directions that were included in the box. Then, standing before the mirror, she placed the tip of the device at her core and began applying pressure.

  The pressure of it going inside made her stop. It wasn’t pleasant, not pleasant at all — the metal was cold, too. She tried to pretend it was a tampon. She’d inserted one of those a million times, and this thing probably wasn’t even as large. So it couldn’t be any more uncomfortable, right?

  It was just so demeaning, dammit. She grimaced as she started to push the foreign object all the way in. But she was so dry. “Come on....you can do this,” she said to her reflection in a strained voice.

  Gritting her teeth, she pushed harder and, with the help of the lubricant, the toy finally slipped into place, sending a strange sensation through her body. She shifted on her feet, closing her legs together, but with the toy there, it just felt awkward to stand that way.

  After a few minutes, the foreign sensation subsided and she was left with just a slight discomfort, the sense of having something where it shouldn’t be. Mission accomplished. She moved to the bedroom and searched her small suitcase for something to wear.

  Once she was dressed, she began walking from her room and made her way down the stairs, the object shifting inside her with each step. Then, to her complete shock and horror, she began to feel an intense arousal as something bizarre happened. She stopped where she was and that’s when she realized that the object was vibrating inside her.

  When she reached the last step, her breathing grew slightly heavy, and her nipples were hard. If this was how she would feel all day long, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing when Blake took her — even if she did hate the guy.

  She found another note in the kitchen; he was reminding her to keep the toy in, that he would know if she took it out for even a minute — and he told her she was to use the elliptical trainer, which she’d find in the workout room downstairs.

  Why? She knew she was considered underweight, but she certainly wasn’t out of shape. She’d been lifting her mother for almost two months, had been fighting for survival afterward for four more months. That last command irritated her, but there were worse things he could ask of her, so she decided not to fight it.

  Just when she thought she couldn’t take the toy any more, the vibrating stopped, and she slumped against the counter. Was it on a timer? What in the world was this thing and how would he know if she didn’t wear it? She couldn’t risk it.

  Blowing out a breath of frustration, she took inventory of his fridge to see what he had to offer, then pulled open the freezer and found a carton of salty caramel ice cream. With a smile of defiance on her face, knowing he would despise her choice in breakfast food, she grabbed the carton and a large spoon, then took both to his living room and sat down on the black leather sofa.

  Popping the top of the brand-new pint of ice cream, she dug the spoon in and took a large bite. She smiled in pure bliss. Heck, the creamy, delicious stuff contained milk and eggs. That, in her book, was a healthy breakfast. The idea of eating straight from the container made her smile as well. She was sure the uptight Blake would be horrified at her manners. But the “meal” and the way she was eating it gave her comfort. Her mother had always called ice cream food for the soul. It was a true cure-all, good for any and all woes, and it wasn’t quite the same unless you ate it straight from the container.

  As for the exercise, how in the world would he know whether she got on the stupid elliptical or not? After she polished off half of the ice cream and found herself more than full, she decided to put the rest away before it melted. Standing up shifted her toy and sent a current of electricity through her body that had her gasping. The vibrating had started up again.

  “Oh my…”

  After walking slowly toward the freezer — the toy was shaking her up enough — she put the ice cream back and thought about heading straight to her bathroom to remove the
infernal object. But Blake would be furious if she did so. She would just have to deal with the extra stimulation for the rest of the day. Maybe moving as little as possible would help. Heck, maybe she’d even take a nap. It wasn’t as if he’d know.

  She somehow doubted her movement was what was causing the vibration. But she didn’t know — she’d never even seen a sex toy, let alone played with one. Heck, she hadn’t thought about playing with one, if this could be called playing.

  When the phone rang a moment later, Jewell ignored it. The call wouldn’t be for her, so why should she bother to answer? She was sure he had a messaging service, or he had his calls routed to his offices after a fixed number of rings.

  The landline rang again in a couple of minutes, and she again ignored it. She returned to the living room couch to lay down. The sensations that rippled through her nearly made her tremble, and she’d been doing that way too much for the past day. Whole lotta shakin’ goin’ on.

  Half an hour later the doorbell rang, and Jewell sat up. Didn’t people who came up to his apartment need a special key or something to get into the elevator? Wasn’t there security in the lobby? Who in the world would be at the door?

  When the bell rang again less than a minute later, Jewell knew she couldn’t ignore it. Still, what if she answered and it was someone whom he didn’t want to know she was there? Would Blake become angry with her? So many hassles! She hoped she could get through this week without any more of them.

  While she was hesitating, the doorbell and the phone rang again at the same time, and Jewell chose the lesser of the evils. She was sure she didn’t want to speak to whoever was calling Blake, and at least his door had a peephole, so she could see who was out there.