Bound Beneath His Pain: A Dirty Little Secrets Novel

by Stacey Kennedy

His jaw clenches twice before he speaks again. “Well then, let’s hope you can deliver on the promises you are making here.” He moves his pen quickly over the document, changing the terms, and initialing the changes. “You’ll need to bring three signed copies of the offer when you arrive at Holt tomorrow morning.”

  “Perfect.” I accept the papers from him. “Now, one more thing before we finalize this.”

  Both of his brows shoot up. I can only guess he’s not used to having anyone dismiss a meeting—which, of course, is exactly why I said it. But the other reason is I’m concerned about my employer. “Before I sign this contract and agree to move to Holt, what is going to happen to Richardson?”

  By the way he straightens in his seat, I wonder if I hit a nerve. I realize I’m asking a question that is totally none of my business, and when he folds his arms, closing himself off to me, I become a little nervous about his answer.

  “You’re worried about a company you’re considering leaving?”

  I can’t get a read on him. His expression is showing very little, so I reply, “Richardson gave me my start. The way I see it, I owe it some loyalty. And I want to know what your plans are.”

  He’s watching me closely; a section of his jet-black stylish hair falls free. “Why does it matter? Richardson’s clients will be moved to Holt and all deserving employees will be hired on in some capacity.”

  “Exactly my point,” I fire back. “What makes them deserving? Is your decision based on how much they made last year?”

  Finally there’s a crack in his unreadable expression, and I can tell by the widening of his eyes that my question surprises him. “What they bring into the company is taken into consideration.” He pauses, and his attention lingers a little too long on me, like he’s sizing me up. “Would you expect it not to be?”

  “In business, I do expect that,” I say with a shrug. “But what if they had a bad year? Take Sandy, she’s a longtime agent for Richardson—she lost her husband this past year and has been struggling.” His lips part, but I continue before he can cut me off. “Another employee, Jacob, recently found out that his young daughter has cancer. These are things that you don’t know about the people who work here. So, yes, I’m asking what will happen to them.”

  He scrapes his fingers across his square jaw, and I notice his face is ridiculously chiseled, like the rest of him. “Your concern here is that your friends—”

  “They’re not my friends,” I correct him.

  He snorts softly. “You’re this worried about co-workers?”

  “Yes.” Because if I didn’t say this now no one would. Micah is intimidating. I’m experienced at handling men like Micah and ensuring they don’t railroad people. These are things that need to be said, because Sandy and Jacob both deserve to keep their jobs, regardless that they had low sales last year.

  Money isn’t everything.

  His finger continues to stroke his chin from left to right when he asks, “If I say I plan on dismantling Richardson and can’t save every job, you would refuse to move to Holt, even if that means you would lose your job?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  I can tell he’s honestly interested, not judging me, so I’m bluntly honest with him. “I refuse to work for a company that can’t see past the bottom line and doesn’t care for its employees and treat them as people.”

  He’s watching me again, and yet he’s completely unreadable. He wants inside my head, I’m sure of it, and I feel, for this second, that if I let him in he’ll awaken me in ways I’ve never known. I’m tempted to reach across the table and—

  A knock on the door jerks my focus there, finding Anderson peeking his head inside the meeting room. “Yes?” he drawls.

  I’m reeling, fighting my way back from the promise of satisfaction in Micah’s eyes, and trying to understand how in the hell he alerted Anderson that he needed him, when Micah rises from his chair. “Instruct the team to stop dismantling the company. Tell them to give me a report on Richardson’s financials ASAP. And keep all Richardson staff on board here, unless anyone willingly wants to move to Holt.”

  Anderson frowns, stepping farther into the office. “Didn’t you say shut down this—”

  “You heard me.” Eyes still intent on me, with that sexy little arch curving the side of his mouth, Micah asks me, “I’ll see you at Holt tomorrow, Allie?”

  “You will,” is all I can say.

  And just like that, he’s gone, and I’m alone, dragging in heavy breaths through my mouth.

  The tabloid headlines at the grocery store spoke of Micah as being ruthless. But that’s not the guy I met today. Charming and seductive seems like an impenetrable armor to mask a certain dark intensity about him.

  I press my hands flat on the table, hoping the coolness of the wood eases the fire in my veins. My nerve endings are tingling. My panties are soaking wet. But there’s a truth I cannot ignore besides the heat he awakens inside of me.

  Men like Micah don’t do something out of the goodness of their heart. He made this choice because I asked him to.

  This is his leverage over me.

  And now I owe him.

  Chapter 2

  Micah

  An hour later and back at Holt, I stride down the hallway, away from my corner office, and reach the meeting room far from the hustle and bustle of the reception area. Through the glass wall separating the meeting room from the hallway, I see three men sitting on the black leather swivel chairs around the racetrack-shaped steel conference table. Behind them, the two exterior windows face the Golden Gate Bridge, and the shining sun is glistening off the steel today.

  When I open the glass door and enter the meeting room, the group of men are in a casual conversation and greet me with nods. I take my seat in the chair at the head of the table, facing the men I consider friends. But our long friendship isn’t the only thing that binds us. We’re the sole owners of the four sex clubs in the city, and in the dark rooms of our clubs, we’re better known as the Dominants’ Council (DC).

  Few know of our true identity and we like it that way. But even as I sit here now, I realize that I don’t think of my position as owner in the DC as I once had. My decisions are no longer based on privacy or on how to get my kinky sex fix, but are based on financial choices. And from recent conversations, I can only guess the men around me feel the same way.

  “Before we begin with business,” Gabe O’Keefe announces, after the door closes tightly, secluding us from the well-accessed hallway. Holt’s offices and meeting rooms might have glass walls showing us off to all passersby, but the seals around the door ensures us our privacy. “You, my friend, have a problem,” he says to Ryder.

  “Do I, now?” Ryder Blackwood scrapes a hand over his buzzed-cut dirty blond hair. “What kind of problem?”

  “A serious one, I’m afraid.” Gabe offers him a file folder.

  Ryder glances through the papers within, looking a bit disturbed. “Unbelievable.”

  “What’s going on?” Darius Bennett asks, leaning closer toward the documents, his brows drawn over his chocolate brown eyes.

  Ryder offers Darius the folder. “Hadley Winters, the daughter of the Senator I guard, is playing at Gabe’s club.” Ryder made his multi-millions creating the best security detail in North America, but he still likes being in the field and getting his hands dirty.

  Darius scans the picture before handing the file to me. I find the photo is of a beautiful blond woman, who’s blindfolded, gagged, and bound to a St. Andrew’s Cross. Angry whip lashings cover nearly every inch of her body. I sympathize with Ryder’s position immediately. It’s his responsibility to ensure Senator Winters is safe and his reputation falls under that umbrella, I’m sure.

  Though at the same time, I have other thoughts on the matter. I narrow my focus on the woman’s face in the picture. She looks to be in her mid-twenties, therefore legally allowed to be in Gabe’s club. “Besides that Hadley is Senator Winters’s daughter, I’m not
seeing a problem here.”

  “Look at the next page,” Gabe states.

  I flip the photo over, finding a document stating that Hadley has been written up twice at Gabe’s club for unsafe behavior. Gabe’s more involved in his club than the rest of us. Ryder, Darius, and I all handed over control of our clubs to someone within whom we trusted to handle day-to-day business, though Gabe remained the go-to guy for his club.

  “I’m worried for her well-being,” Gabe says softly. “She’s beyond reckless. Twice now they’ve pulled her from a scene because she’s not safe-wording out when she should be. I watched a video of her, and believe me when I say she’s not playing safe.” He gives Ryder a knowing look. “Hadley is protected in my club. But one more instance like this and she’ll be banned.”

  Ryder draws in a deep breath before speaking. “She shouldn’t be there to begin with. If TMZ got ahold of this…” Posture stiff, he rubs the back of his neck. “When did she join Afterglow?”

  “A month ago.” Gabe takes the folder from me and places it in front of him, lifting a brow at Ryder. “What do you want me to do with her?”

  Ryder taps his thumb against the table in a steady rhythm. Then, “Until I can figure all this out, are there any men at Afterglow you trust implicitly?”

  Gabe nods. “A couple, yes.”

  “Perhaps, then”—Ryder frowns at the folder in front of Gabe with clear fierceness, almost a protective edge even—“as a punishment for being written up twice, order her to only play with the men you trust, in a private room. Keep her as secluded as possible.”

  “Done,” Gabe agrees, pushing his dark brown, unruly hair out of his face.

  Ryder leans back in his seat and I can see his mind is elsewhere. Which only reminds me how glad I am not to worry over Lace and the day-to-day goings-on. I can deal with money. I can fix business problems. I’m not very good at emotional issues that you inevitably have to deal with at our businesses. Unless it has to do with a sweet little treat named Allie. She is something I’ll happily deal with.

  “All right, Micah,” Darius says, breaking me away from my thoughts. “Tell us what unfolded with this pushy oil tycoon out of Texas.”

  I shove Allie from my mind for now, focusing on the reason for our meeting today, and report, “Craig Harrington attempted to purchase the nightclub Elements the other day, and word on the street was he planned to open a rival club. I bested his offer and stole the deal out from under him.”

  Ryder says, “We might have to bring Craig in and discuss the matter, if he continues to pursue opening a club.” His emerald green eyes sharpen as he leans back in his chair with his fingers laced behind his head. “But I’m not sure it would be in our best interests to let him know how involved we are.”

  “I agree,” says Darius, “It could backfire.” His face becomes stern as he slaps a hand on the table. “That said, I’m glad you took care of him, Micah.”

  I nod and smile. “Demolition starts in a couple weeks and a shopping center will occupy that space.”

  “You didn’t steal the property away,” Gabe says with laugh. “You eliminated it. Way to prove a point.”

  I do it to protect us. No one in this room wants a sex scandal about our preference for the darker delights of sex, or to give anyone the chance to blackmail us. Which are all things that come with fame and power. Besides, the sex industry is a booming business, and none of us wants to lose the money flowing in from our clubs.

  “With that out of the way,” Darius says, his eyes scanning the faces in the room, “do we have any other matters to discuss?”

  Once Ryder and Gabe answer with a silent shake of their heads, I speak up. “Now’s a good time to review our plans for next quarter.” We’ve never competed with one another. And we won’t. Not ever. “Lace’s management has told me they’re doing an erotic circus theme over the next few months.”

  Gabe smacks his hand on the table. “You’re such a lucky bastard having the people you do working for you. Their ideas are brilliant.”

  “It’s not luck.” I grin at him. “It’s skill in hiring the right people.”

  He snorts.

  Gabe and I were roommates during our time at Harvard, and we were also the original members of the DC. A healthy competition streak is the bones of our long friendship.

  He tilts his chair back, stretching out his arms, addressing the others now. “Afterglow is opening its doors to swingers once a week, hoping to gain more members that way. We’re also doing submissive auctions every weekend, too. So, no competition from us.”

  Darius adds, “Masquerade is hosting Shibari events, so no conflict there for us.”

  “And you?” I ask Ryder.

  “No events for Impulse,” Ryder replies, glancing once more at the folder before looking at me. “I’ve been told the club is going back to basics and holding newbie nights teaching everything from bondage for beginners to the understanding of the power exchange.” He smiles, showing off his deep dimples. “My manager says he needs some new innocent skin to brighten up his life.”

  Laughter fills the room. It’s odd, I admit to myself. Years ago, I would’ve felt a rush over the thought of Shibari and even about a new submissive to enjoy. Now I’d seen it all. I’d done it all. The high had faded long ago.

  Though I can’t help but notice I felt a similar high with Allie today. I’m pretty damn sure I’ve never met any woman who’s smart and humble, strong and sweet, sexy and innocent, loyal and adamant, all at the same time. She’s a giant contradiction.

  I like contradictions, because I’m one myself.

  The beeping intercom breaks into my thoughts before my assistant Neil’s voice sounds through the meeting room. “Excuse the interruption, sir. Your eleven o’clock is waiting for you in your office.”

  I press the button on the intercom. “Thank you, Neil.” Then I rise from my seat and address the others, “This appointment can’t wait.”

  “Ten grand that this appointment looks great in skirts,” Gabe says with a laugh.

  “She doesn’t look great…” I move to the door and open it, looking over my shoulder. “…she looks fantastic in them.” I exit the meeting room hearing the masculine laughter fading with the door closing.

  I pick up my pace, moving around the corner, finding Neil zoomed in on his monitor, totally unaware of my arrival. He’s speaking into the phone. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Holt has meetings this afternoon. He can see you tomorrow morning.”

  I hired Neil a year ago after I officially gave up on hiring female assistants. The young females were either a distraction to me or I was a distraction to them. The middle-aged women were all bearing children and I went through two maternity leaves that left me with terrible temps as a replacement. And it seemed unfair to hire older women because of the stressfulness of managing my schedule, which is basically my life, too. So then I found Neil and haven’t looked back.

  When I enter my office, I immediately spot the leggy blonde staring out at the view of the Financial District. “Hello, Juliet,” I say, announcing my arrival.

  She spins on her heels, giving me the luscious smile that I’ve appreciated for the last three years. “Good morning, Micah.”

  My chest lightens, as it always does in her presence. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.” I wave out toward the black leather couches in the sitting area of my office. “Please sit.”

  Juliet takes her seat, settling her red dress over her knees, and smiles. “So, who is the lovely lady who’s stolen you away from me?”

  I lower into the chair opposite her, arching a brow. “How do you know that’s why I called you here?”

  She gives me a level look. “Because it’s the only reason you call me into Holt, Micah.”

  I chuckle. Juliet knows me well, probably better than anyone, maybe even better than I know myself. In her world, she’s a woman who plays a submissive role to men and enjoys kinky sex rather than regular sex. In my world, she’s a thirty-two-year-old st
unning woman who has integrity and is loyal to me.

  I have no doubt that most Holt employees think Juliet is my sister. But she’s not family, not even close. Juliet lets me live out the very darkest of my fantasies with her. There’s nothing she prevents me from pursuing.

  With her, I don’t tame the beast inside. I indulge him.

  What I give her is complete honesty, total trust, and a stable man in her life that she once told me she needed, since her father abandoned her and left her with emotional trust issues. That’s why when a new woman comes into my life that holds my interest, Juliet is the first to know.

  That’s our promise to each other.

  She flips her long curled blond locks over her shoulders. “So, get to it and tell me about this new lady in your life.”

  I lean back against the couch, propping my shoes on the edge of the glass coffee table between us, crossing one ankle over the other. “She isn’t in my life yet.”

  Juliet’s red-painted lips curve into a sly smile. “Already calling me to take a break without even a date set. I’m intrigued. Tell me more.”

  I ponder the woman I met today, deciding what to tell Juliet. Allie’s sharp and clever personality holds my interest, as does her sweet and gentle heart, but it’s the way she melted under my watchful eye that captivates me most. She’s responsive to me, and even now my cock is hardening remembering the way her cheeks flushed and her nipples became hard points beneath her thin blouse. Things I don’t need to share with Juliet. “She would impress you.”

  Juliet’s brows arch over her light blue eyes. “How so?”

  “She’s loyal.”

  “That’s rare,” Juliet acknowledges.

  “It is,” I agree, and I value loyalty. Most people in my world would turn on me in a second flat to get my money. “Today she changed my mind from dismantling a company to saving it.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Precisely,” is all I have to say. Because it’s unlike me to change my mind, and I don’t have to tell Juliet that. I never make decisions based on emotion. I make them based on profit. But today I hadn’t.