by Alex, Demi
“Okay. I’ll be right back.”
“No hurries, Phoebe.”
She stopped mid-stride. “How did you know my name?”
“You are Dane West’s Phoebe, no?” The older lady lowered her glasses on her nose and looked over the wire frames at Phoebe. “You’re exactly as he described.”
“He told you about me?”
“Of course, he did, honey. He dropped in first thing this morning and added you to his account.” Nodding her head, Granny showed her approval of his actions and choice in women. “He needs a good girl who can also cook. Since he’s been back, the boy barely eats. We have to sneak casseroles into his refrigerator while he’s fiddling with one of those spiffy cars he likes to put together.”
“No wonder he had tons of Tupperware in the pantry, but only some spices, and I think a bottle or two of designer-style oil.”
“That’s for his omelets. Dane would survive on eggs and bread, if we didn’t interfere.” She chuckled, pointing out the door. “Hurry. It’s the second building on the right once you cross the street. Doc likes to get home for an early lunch these days.”
* * * *
Ended up that Doc Jenkins was a veterinarian, who was in search of a receptionist to man the front office, especially while he made “barn” calls. He offered Phoebe the job and expected an answer the next morning. Phoebe only had to find an affordable place to stay in order to give him a yes.
Oh, how she hoped she could stay. After the past few weeks, she welcomed a break. No more demented boyfriend to kick her out of her house. No more sleeping out of a car. And, no more looking into dark alleys to avoid danger. It seemed too good to be true, so she kept pinching herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.
Returning to the market, she scanned the bulletin board and tore a strip of paper from an ad for a room for rent. Granny, named Wilma Brady, was a wealth of information, and was happy to offer her directions to Beatrice Maxwell’s home, so Phoebe could inquire in person about the room.
Pinch.
Damn, that hurt. She was awake.
“You’ll love it at the Maxwell house. Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell passed away a few years back, so now the poor girl lives by herself in that big house. She’s surrounded by kids all day long because she’s our elementary school science teacher, so I know she’d appreciate some adult conversation with a nice girlfriend closer to her age. I’m sure you’ll be comfortable there. It’s proper.”
“Proper?”
“Yes. You know the old saying.” Granny pointed her index finger and shook it for emphasis. “You don’t give the milk away for free, or they don’t buy the cow.”
Heat filled Phoebe’s cheeks. Anxiety pinged against her skull. What else did the granny know? Staring at the countertop, careful not to make eye contact, Phoebe pulled the damp twenty-dollar bill from her pocket. “Of course, ma’am.”
“Dane put you on his account, sweetie.” Mrs. Brady pushed the bag into Phoebe’s arms and shooed her toward the door. “That means you don’t pay.”
“I want to surprise him. I want to do this for him.” Balancing the bag on her hip, she tried to stand her ground and give the storekeeper the money. “It wouldn’t be me doing for him, if he pays. Please…”
She shook her white head, soft tendrils falling from her bun. “Sorry. There are times when a woman needs to abide by her man’s wishes and make him happy. This is such a time for you.” Leaning close, she placed a real grandmotherly kiss on Phoebe’s cheek and forced her fingers closed on the paper. “Making lunch for him, making it with care and love, means much more than paying for it with money. Stop arguing with an old woman and go cook for your man.”
Mrs. Brady’s last words turned in Phoebe’s mind as she peddled beneath the brutal sun. Care and love. Cook for her man. Care and love. Her man.
“Dare to dream,” she breathed, peddling faster.
* * * *
“Phoebe?” Dane walked through the living room and to the bedrooms, but the woman was nowhere to be found. He had no idea where she would go in the one hundred degree heat without a car—and he’d made sure she’d be without a car by disconnecting the coil wire once again. If her stubborn mind had decided to run errands in the next city, she would have been sitting on the side of the road after a few miles. He needed to get those parts and hurry and fix the Caddy. He couldn’t even think of her stranded… Stranded and vulnerable.
“Phoebe? Sweetheart?” Dane called as he pushed open the door leading to the kitchen. Her computer sat on the table, still on, and open. He ran a finger over the mouse pad and an essay of sorts flashed to life. Not wanting to intrude, but needing to see if there was a hint of where she might have gone, he read the few paragraphs on the screen.
Wanted… She certainly was. He wanted her.
He hadn’t wanted any woman since he’d stepped back on American soil. Losing Miriam, an informant turned friend, to her psychotic cousin because she wouldn’t let him protect her, had stripped him of any desire for a potential relationship with another woman. He’d argued he didn’t deserve the honor of a woman’s trust if he couldn’t protect a friend. But in all honesty, no woman had been worth risking the pain of loss. No woman until Phoebe. She was irresistible.
He continued to read Phoebe’s story, delighted she felt wanted and treasured in his arms. Little did she know how true her feelings rang deep inside him. He more than wanted her.
A chat window popped open.
Bitch. You can’t block me. I know your password.
Excuse me? Dane typed, fisting his hand and needing to punch the bastard, named EricRules1025, for calling his Phoebe a bitch.
Give me the fucking bracelet or I’m going to the cops.
Bracelet? No way had Phoebe stolen anything from him.
Yeah. You know, that expensive strand of diamonds I gave you for your birthday.
That was a gift. Dane tapped on the keyboard and waited to see if asshole would respond.
Bitch. It cost me a fortune. I want it back. If I don’t get it by Friday, I’m coming to beat your skinny ass and tear it off your wrist.
He was threatening her? No fucking way.
Dane hit the video call button.
“Did you just say you’re going to hit a girl? My girl?” Anger boiled past his throat. “Dick face, I’m speaking to you.”
Phoebe’s pretty-boy ex sat in his leather high back chair, a large glass pane behind him showcasing the skyscrapers beyond his office. “Who are you?”
“I’m the guy that’s going to tie that fucking bracelet around your tiny balls so tight, then watch them turn blue and smoke a cigar until you beg me to cut them off.”
“Hey. I have no beef with you.” Pushing away from the screen, asshole squirmed in his seat. “I don’t even know you.”
“But I know you.” Dane pointed at the screen. If he could have, he’d have the pretty boy hanging by his silk tie and dangling outside that window. The asshole was trembling and his fear fueled Dane’s anger more. “You’re a tough guy that likes to make himself feel important and strong at the expense of a woman. Well, not my woman. You come within ten miles of Phoebe I’ll smell you and be on you in seconds. If you ever—ever—threaten her again, I will hunt you down and make you regret the minute you see my face.”
“Hey, man. It’s just a bracelet. She can have it.”
“And don’t you ever sign in to any of her accounts again. That’s invasion of privacy and the authorities would like to know about such an upstanding businessman hacking other citizens’ accounts.”
The asshole used a tidy, white hankie to wipe his face.
“Sign off, dick head. Sign off now, or I’m going to be in your office before you have the—” Dane snorted his disgust. The chat box had gone blank before he’d had the chance to finish his sentence. “Fucking pussy.”
Chapter Nine
So Much More than Hot
Dane checked the patio between the house and the garage, then the garage itself, and not
iced the bicycle missing. Semi-relieved, he guessed she’d gone for a short ride and was safe. He returned to the house in order to finish installing the floor in the second bedroom and work off his worry. He’d give her half an hour before calling the sheriff and going in search of the stubborn woman.
As he worked, the conversation with her ex played in his mind, and his worry grew. In less than five minutes, he threw his hammer against the wall, putting a nice hole in it, then practically jumped down the stairs and into Phoebe.
“Where have you been?” He took her shoulders and pulled her against him.
“Missed me much?”
“I’ve been worried about you,” he replied, cupping her red cheeks and placing a kiss on her heated lips. Thankful to have her in his arms, to taste her reciprocated desire, he dropped his forehead against hers. “And yes, I’ve missed you.”
“I just went into town for some groceries, silly. It’s not a life-threatening activity.” She took his hand and led him into the kitchen, sashaying her ass in invitation. “Your pantry isn’t well stocked, and I wanted to make you some lunch.”
“Didn’t you see my note?”
“Yeah,” she said, turning and reaching on tiptoes to kiss him. “But I have something else in mind.”
Stubborn woman. She’d really be the death of him if she didn’t adhere to a few rules. “Please let me know when you have ‘something else’ in mind.”
“Yes, Master.”
That was it. The teasing tone and sexy smile did away with any lingering patience. He grabbed the loaded paper bag and stuffed it into the fridge, then swept his arm beneath her knees and carried her up to his bedroom. “I’ll show you who is master. You’ve got a lesson of two to learn about obedience. No time like the present.”
Phoebe went instantly wet. Her core pulsed, and she wondered how he was going to teach her a lesson this time. She took a deep breath, lost herself in the fresh and musky scent of man, and leaned her head against his chest. “Yes, sir.”
Groaning, he placed a kiss atop her head and pulled her closer. “You don’t make things easy, Phoebe. You just don’t.”
Placing her in the center of the neatly made bed, he pulled the covers from around her and instructed her to close her eyes.
She did, and she listened to drawers open and close, closet doors doing the same, and at last, the mattress shifted as he joined her. A set of muscular thighs found their way beneath her hands as he lifted her to a seated position and fit himself behind her. Then a silk or satin fabric covered her eyes, and she felt him tie it about her head.
“You may open your eyes now,” he said.
It was dark and unfamiliar behind the soft cloth. She shifted between his legs and touched her fingers to the blindfold. Her stomach somersaulted. “I’m not sure how I feel about this.”
“Why is that?” His voice, gravelly and solemn, moved further behind her. His legs left her side. “Answer.”
“It’s dark. I’m scared.”
“Scared of me?” A warm hand settled on her cheek, and his thumb stroked over her lips.
“No, not you. It’s the unknown, the darkness that bothers me.”
“Trust me?”
“Yes,” she breathed, shocked that she utterly trusted him, even though she’d known him less than twenty-four hours.
“Good. We’ll continue,” he replied and moved to the foot of the bed. “When you fail to tell me where you are, and I’m in the dark, I’m also scared. So to correct that action, I will hold you where I know you will stay.”
He took hold of her leg, and wrapped a leather strap of sorts around it. With a gentle yank, he secured it to what she assumed was the bedpost. She reached for her ankle, but he pushed her hand away.
“Keep them at your side and flat on the mattress.”
He unbuttoned her khakis and slipped them down, off her right leg, but bunched just below her left. “Remove your shirt.”
Her tits bounced free as she lifted the cami over her head. She held it out and waited for him to take it. She felt, rather than heard, the shirt whiz across to the other side of the room. The swoosh of air swept over her nipples, and they hardened with the anticipation of his touch. Her cotton panties, damp with desire, snaked between her folds as she moved, but he held her wrists above her head, and she wasn’t able to adjust them.
“Are you going to fuck me silly, again?”
“I’m going to let you feel what it is like to be in the dark.” Maneuvering her hands behind her back, he clasped them together. “Don’t strain, sweetheart, or the cuffs will chafe your wrists.” He returned to the foot of the bed and released her leg from the footboard, but he kept her restrained by tying it to her other ankle. “How do you feel?”
“It doesn’t hurt or anything,” she breathed, worrying her lower lip and pushing her heels against the mattress while scooting up the bed to rest her back against the headboard. “But don’t go too far. I need to know where you are.”
“Remember that,” he said, his footsteps fading away.
She waited, but he didn’t say anything else. Nerves danced in her stomach and paraded up her spine. Restrained and in the dark, fear joined apprehension. “Hottie?” She hated how her voiced trembled. “Master Dane?”
“Yes, Phoebe?”
“I’m scared. Please don’t leave me.”
The mattress moved beneath his weight. “I will not leave. I could never leave you vulnerable.” He ran his palms up her legs and over her tummy. “Please don’t ever leave me in the dark again. It scared me, too.”
Had something as small as a trip to the grocery store really set him off? How? Why? What had happened to make him so cautious?
She shifted from cheek to cheek, rocking on her butt and working off her nervousness.
“I wanted to show you how I felt, not scare you.” His hands moved over her ribs and cupped her breasts. “Enough of a lesson,” he breathed, sealing his lips over an aching nipple. “I can’t deny you, and I can’t deny my need for you any longer. Rise onto your knees.”
With his hands guiding her, she rose and knelt on the bed. His mouth traveled between her breasts, lavishing the excited skin with kisses. Large, calloused hands roamed over her bottom and eventually found their way to her cunt. She tilted her hips and sighed as his fingers slid between her folds and rounded her clit. Slowly, tenderly, he played with the erotic nub, building the pleasure between her legs.
Still in the dark and unable to reach for him with her hands, she found his shoulder with her mouth and followed the corded muscles up his neck and to his lips. Her tongue slipped into his warmth and security, and she lost herself in his taste. “Make love to me, Dane.”
He groaned his response, releasing her wrists from the cuffs and slipping the blindfold off her face. “It would be my pleasure, sweetheart.”
He laid her back on the bed and untied her feet. “When I make love to you, I want to feel you holding me to you. I want to feel you wanting me as much as I want you.”
Slow, tender, endearing lovemaking proved to be the most powerful of lessons. Settled in his embrace and cradled against the crook of his arm, she was in complete understanding of his need to know where she’d been. “I’m sorry for making you worry.”
He moved her hair off her face, placed a kiss on the tip of her nose, but didn’t speak.
“I wanted to surprise you with a home-cooked lunch. I needed some groceries, so I took your bike in to town. I didn’t mean to alarm you.”
“I told you to wait. I wrote I’d be back to take you to lunch.”
“It was supposed to be a surprise.” She pulled herself to a sitting position and studied his face. “What’s the big deal? Why would you get so worried?”
Throwing his long legs over the bed, he sat with his back to her and reached for his jeans. “I can’t chance you getting hurt. I couldn’t handle it.”
“How could I get hurt riding to the grocery store? I don’t think a single car passed me, coming or going.”<
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“What if your dickhead ex showed up?” Dane spat at her. “What if he hurt you?”
“He wouldn’t.” Phoebe stood and searched the floor for her clothes.
“You mean to tell me you’ve had no contact with him?”
Shrugging, she stepped into her pants. The only contact she’d had with him was to tell him to fuck off. Otherwise, she’d turned off her phone the first time he’d text her, and she’d ignored his emails. The instant message had caught her off guard.
“Not really,” she replied, pulling the cami over her head. “It’s not like we have a lot to speak about.”
Dane gripped her upper arm and turned her to face him. His gaze narrowed and his lips formed a stern line. “Really? He never threatened you?”
“Whatever. He’s a wuss. He talks tough, but he’s too lazy to do anything about it.”
“I’ve heard those exact words before, Phoebe.” He dropped her arm and walked toward the armoire in the corner. “I’ve heard those exact words from a stubborn woman, a woman who refused to take proper precautions, and who lost her life at the hands of her fanatical, but lazy, cousin. He managed to overcome his laziness to kill her.” He opened the armoire and pulled out a neatly folded t-shirt. “I can’t be in love with a woman who refuses to listen. I can’t be in love with a woman who carelessly puts herself in harm’s way. Not with riding in a jalopy. Nor disregarding threats from an enraged ex.”
“You love me?” Her legs folded beneath her, and she sat on the ground and dropped her head into her hands. “You love me?”
“Damn it.” He slammed the armoire shut. “Yes. Yes, I do love you. Don’t ask me how or why, I just do. I did from the moment you came up the drive and stepped out of that noisy car of yours.” His voice calmed, and his shoulders dropped a bit. “I couldn’t deal with it if you were hurt because I failed to protect you.”
“You love me?” Phoebe repeated, offering him her hand.
