by Lexi Blake
“Everyone cares on some level.” He could remember the taunts, the stares, the people who looked through him like he hadn’t been there at all. He’d tried to make himself numb, but even now, it hurt. Years later and he could remember those eyes on him.
She shrugged. “I guess I haven’t met anyone I thought enough of that their opinion could make me feel bad. Not that I don’t have friends. But my friends like me. So far I haven’t fucked that up.”
“Even with the person you took a knife to?” He was still reeling a little from that revelation. He’d known whoever he would hire would be good with weapons, but he’d thought about guns. Not knives. There was something odd about thinking Kayla might have a couple of weapons on her at all times.
“Owen? Nah, he took it well. He said it didn’t bug him at all. Said it happened to him in pubs all the time, and that I believe. He could be obnoxious.” Her smiled faltered. “He went to Damon and explained that it was his fault. He tried really hard to get me out of trouble.”
“Are you still friends?” Something about the way her expression had shifted made him wonder.
“Yes, but he doesn’t remember what happened. It’s sad that he doesn’t remember all the reasons I care about him.” She seemed to shake something off and her smile returned. “He had a work-related accident. Fucked up his memory. But that’s not what we’re here for. I looked over the contract and there are only a few things I have some questions about. You want me to surrender my phone to you whenever you ask. Is that because you’re worried I’ll cheat or you’re worried I’m working for a newspaper?”
Well, she didn’t have problems being forward. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
Except for his dick. His dick was very sure how it felt. His dick had been hard since the moment she’d turned and told him she didn’t like being referred to as a toy.
How did he make her understand the world she was walking into? “Would a hundred thousand dollars help you out?”
She sat back. “I’m sure a hundred K would help almost anyone. Are you saying that’s what I could make if I was writing a story on you?”
“One where you could prove the rumors about my sexual proclivities, that would be the basement price. It could go much higher.”
“I don’t get it. I mean I do,” she replied. “You’re superhot. People are interested in how you get down and dirty, but I don’t see why it’s such a biggie.”
“In this day and age, a story like that would ruin my career. If the people at The Reef talked, I would be done.”
“But BDSM is consensual.”
“And Jared Johns didn’t kill anyone,” he pointed out. “The accusation is all that matters today. He didn’t do anything wrong, but that scandal has deeply affected his career. The show got canceled. Oh, it lasted another two seasons, but as popular as it was, it should have gone on for ten years. Now Jared’s a free agent and he’s struggling to find work, and it’s all about the stain on him. Perception is everything, and the truth, well, the truth changes from one person to another until all that matters is opinion.”
She thought about it for a moment and seemed to come to some decision. “That’s rough, but I understand. I’ll write down my phone password. You should feel free to check it whenever you like.”
“And what will I find? Anything interesting?” He wasn’t going to be a bastard and demand it right then.
“I play a lot of Angry Birds. Way too much. I like to take pictures of food because I always tell myself that someday I’ll start a food blog, but I never do. I read a god-awful amount of romance novels. If you make fun of me, we’ll have trouble because I sometimes get overly involved and it’s almost like they’re real people. I text with my friend Tucker all the time. He sends pictures of things he finds fascinating or weird. He finds a lot of things fascinating.”
There it was again. A nasty twist hit his gut like it had when he’d walked out and caught her hugging the broody bodyguard. Jealousy. Possessiveness. He told himself it was because he was signing a contract with her, but he hadn’t felt this caveman-like in years. It wasn’t a pretty look on him.
“He’s a friend, Joshua,” she said quietly, as though she could read him like a book. “I think of Tucker as a little brother. A real little brother. He’s a bit like a toddler, except he wants sex instead of food. Nah. Along with food. He eats a lot. They all do.”
“Sounds like an interesting man.” The fact that this Tucker wanted sex didn’t help. Of course the kid wanted sex. That was probably what all the texting was about. Josh was absolutely certain that Tucker found Kayla fascinating.
God knows he did.
“He doesn’t remember either,” she explained. “My company was involved in a case a while back. We were tracking a woman, a doctor who developed a drug that erased the memories of soldiers. Once they were free of their pasts, she would retrain them, almost imprinting them on herself. Like ducklings, except with high-powered weaponry.”
That was interesting. That would make an excellent movie. He leaned in. “Super soldiers. She was trying to make soldiers free of conscience and loyal only to her. I take it since we haven’t been overrun by these guys that she failed?”
“We took her out,” she replied. “But we found a whole group of men whose memories she wiped. They had been her experiments, and without her around, well, ducklings need someone to lead them. One of those ducklings was Tucker. We call them the Lost Boys. It’s odd how their brains work. They remember things like what a toothbrush is, and a couple of them easily remembered how to drive a car, but they don’t know what their names are or whether or not they left someone behind. They don’t know if they’ve ever been in love or what sex feels like. Well, Dante knows because he snuck out one night. It’s okay. We had him tested and everything. But that’s why I won’t stop texting with Tucker. I’m one of the few people he knows.”
“You’re his anchor.” When her brows rose, he shook his head because she’d obviously misunderstood. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way. You’re a touchstone for him, a landmark. He doesn’t understand much, but when he knows you’re around, he can handle it.”
“I guess so,” she agreed. “I like that. I’ve been a person in need of a landmark once or twice in my life. Anyway, I suppose what I’m trying to say is you can freely read my text conversations with Tucker. And hey, if you want to call him, he’s a big fan. He loved that movie with you and the talking baby where you solve crimes.”
Josh groaned. Maybe Baby and Maybe Baby 2: Baby B Tripping were a part of his career he would rather forget. “No. That was not my finest moment. In my defense, I was young and hungry. Like actually hungry.” He chuckled as he sat back. “I’ll understand you have a family and you like to talk to them. And I’ll try to cool the caveman act with Burke. The truth is the guy kind of scares me.”
“Was it an act?”
“No.” That was the hell of the thing. “It was an instinct, but it’s not one I have often. I try not to be too possessive of anyone or anything. I happen to know it can all go away tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” she replied. “I suppose I know that, too.”
“Was there something else you were concerned about? I tried to keep the business side to the work contract and the D/s to the personal. You do have days off, but I would like forty-eight hours’ notification in order to make plans. You’ll receive your schedule on Sundays, and I expect you to follow it as much as possible. You coordinate security with Shane and Declan, but first and foremost, you’re with me. You will receive a weekly allowance…”
She held a hand up. “Let’s call it a salary.”
“This is not part of your salary,” he replied flatly. “This is part of your upkeep. You’ll receive an allowance for clothes and anything else you need to maintain a flawless appearance when we’re out in public.”
“And when we’re private?”
“When we’re private, I’ll prefer you with little to no clothes at all,” he admitted.
“Then maybe the back of your house shouldn’t be made of glass,” she pointed out with a grin, referring to the floor-to-ceiling windows that ran all three floors of the house and offered picture-perfect views of the Pacific.
“Luckily, I also have shades that come down with the push of a button,” he replied. “Mrs. Glendower only comes in twice a week. She leaves food with instructions on heating, and she cleans on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Otherwise, it’s you and me and the bodyguards, who know how to knock before entering.”
“All right.” She glanced back down at her plate as though she wished it wasn’t empty. “I saw in the contract that you already set up appointments for me. Hair. Nails.” She picked up a pen and scratched through one section. “I’m not getting Botox, Joshua.”
“It was merely an appointment with a dermatologist. Everyone has a dermatologist. I wasn’t suggesting you get anything at all done, simply giving you the option.”
“I’ll do all the mani-pedis and blowouts you like, but don’t try to change my face,” she said. “I will take the gym membership, although there’s such beautiful nature out here I’ll probably jog every day.”
Damn it. He reached over and put a hand on hers. “I think you’re gorgeous.”
“But you require perfection.”
He pulled her hand in between his. “I don’t. Look, I had that contract brought up when you were a nameless, faceless woman. I told the lawyer to draw up language that covered all the bases that could possibly be needed. I’ll cancel the dermatologist and change all your appointments over to an exclusive spa I know. Facials and mani-pedis and mimosas.”
“I thought I wasn’t allowed to drink.”
He winced. “Again, written for a nameless, faceless probably alcoholic woman. Kay, I’m not an optimist. I’m kind of the opposite and prepare for the absolute worst. It’s not a pretty part of me, but it’s who I am. So here…”
He let go of her hand and turned the contract around, quickly slashing through the mandatory self-care section that also stated if her breasts weren’t acceptable, that he would pay for the augmentation. Jesus. What had he been thinking? He wrote out to the side.
Party A will be clean and presentable at all public functions.
He initialed. “That’s all I need.”
“Does that mean I don’t get the clothes?”
Finally, something he could give her. He’d been starting to worry that he was going to fumble his way through the entire night. “You can have all the clothes you need. I promise. Your personal shopper will be here in the morning to get you ready for next week. Before we head to the set in Mexico, we’ll go out to Rodeo for the day and get anything you need.”
“Cool, because my wardrobe is probably not up to snuff red-carpet wise.” She glanced down at the beach, the end of day light making the sand shimmer like jewels.
The silence lengthened between them. As did his cock because they were leaving the small-talk portion of the evening. She was lovely and she’d passed his tests. She wasn’t running away as fast as she could, so she seemed to have accepted him.
There was no reason to not have her.
The need for his restraint was gone and he could indulge.
“Kayla?”
Her eyes came up, a flash of recognition there. “Yes?”
“Are you going to sign the contract or do you have more questions?”
She picked up the pen sitting on top of the contracts that would bind the two of them together for the next six months. They would reevaluate the relationship at that point in time, but for the next six months, she was his. His bodyguard. His submissive.
Bought and properly paid for. He would take care of her and she would give him what he needed.
She signed with a flourish and sat back, a gleam of curiosity in her eyes.
He was curious, too, and there was zero reason to not satisfy their curiosity. Hard and soft limits had been gone over. They would find their communication style as they went along. But first she should understand that he was in control.
“Come sit on my lap.”
She didn’t hesitate. She stood and turned, shifting so she could maneuver her way onto his lap.
Her weight came down on him and he wrapped an arm around her waist. Damn but she made him feel big. He’d seen her take out a man twice her size, but sitting here in his lap she felt small and vulnerable, and fuck but that did it for him.
He slid a hand along her knee, letting himself indulge in the silky-smooth feel of her skin against his palm. “Did you do as I asked?”
He was well aware his voice had gone husky, deeper than normal.
“Yes, Joshua.” She squirmed the tiniest bit, as though trying to find a comfortable position. It might be difficult for her because she was sitting right on his cock, and it was harder and thicker than he could ever remember it being.
“How can I trust you?” This was all part of the game he loved. Here he could let go and play out the darker of his impulses—to control, to take, to possess.
See. Want. Have.
“You’ll have to check,” she replied. “Though shouldn’t we go inside?”
He reached out and picked up his cell with his free hand, pushing one number and connecting to the security room. He put them on speaker. She needed to understand what she was up against in order for the game to be fair. “Landon?”
“This is Burke,” the deep voice replied. “Shane’s on patrol. What can I do for you?”
“Burke, I would like to fuck my submissive on the third-floor balcony. Is anyone watching us? Can you see any cameras pointed our way?”
A low, masculine chuckle came across the line. “No, Mr. Hunt. And given the angle relative to the beach, you should enjoy your evening without worry. The only peepers I would worry about would be your next-door neighbor, and Jared is out for the night.”
“I wouldn’t care if he wasn’t. Keep up the good work.” He hung up and his hand tightened. “I would prefer when we’re playing that you don’t question me like that. I know where I want to fuck you. I know when I want to fuck you, and I’m in charge. If I want you in the middle of a crowded freeway, your only response is a yes or a no. Not to question me.”
She seemed to relax back against him, as though she was giving up the struggle and choosing to submit. “Yes, Joshua. Yes, I understand, and yes to the sex. Please.”
He liked the breathy please and loved how she squirmed. Still, he wasn’t absolutely sure she’d obeyed him, and he was a man who required proof. He slid his hand up her thigh. “Spread your legs for me.”
Her knees fell apart, and he could feel the heat from her core. He slipped a hand up until he made contact with her softest skin. No panties. Nothing but wet heat waiting for him, and it was obvious the play had cranked her up, too. His free hand eased one button on her shirt free, and then another and another until he could move in like a soldier conquering territory. No bra. Her breasts were like the rest of her. Soft and delicate. One nipple rolled against his palm, hardening then and there.
“I can see you’ve been an obedient sub,” he said, his mouth against her ear. “You need to stay that way or there will be punishment. I’m not a sadist, Kayla. I truly don’t get off on your pain, but I will give it to you if you need it. I am a disciplinarian. I gain satisfaction from your obedience. In exchange, I’ll show you how good it can be to obey me.”
He let his fingers slide over her labia, teasing her. She relaxed back against him, completely caged within his arms. He cupped her breast with his free hand while he began gently circling her clitoris.
“Do you like how that feels?” He whispered the question into her ear.
“Yes. God, yes.”
He took her nipple in between his thumb and forefinger, pinching. It was quick and hard and would flare through her like a flash fire. Sure enough she whimpered and squirmed, rubbing against his dick. Every movement sent a hardcore thrill through him. “What do you call me?”
“Joshu
a.” Her voice was breathless, the words shaky as they left her lips. “Joshua, yes, I love how it feels.”
“Do you want more?”
“Yes, Joshua. I want more. Please, could I have more?”
He started up again, a slow circle of that sweet button of hers. She was slippery and getting wetter by the minute. She certainly hadn’t lied about wanting sex, and she wasn’t being coy about asking for it. “I like it when you’re polite, pet. Something about a sub sweetly asking me to let her come works for me, do you understand?”
“I do.” Her hands clutched at his sides, bracing herself against him, while her feet had hooked around his calves, holding her knees wide for him.
“And are you thinking about who might be watching?”
She shook her head. “I don’t care.”
“You don’t care if they’re watching you from the beach? I’ve got your legs spread wide, and that soft pussy of yours is lit by the sunset. Do you think it’s all the colors of the sunset? Coral and pink? Your cream like the foam from the waves?”
“You’re killing me.” Her head nestled against his neck. “And no. I don’t care if someone is watching me.”
“Shane is going to be walking back up the beach any minute now. He’s patrolling the grounds. He could see you like this and I wouldn’t care as long as he knows not to touch,” he whispered. He rolled her nipple again. “I’m going to enjoy showing you off, letting everyone see how lovely my submissive is, but I won’t share you.”
“That wasn’t in the contract,” she pointed out. “You have the right to share me if you like.”
He pinched her hard again, the idea repugnant to him. “I don’t like. I won’t like, so if that’s a sweet kink of yours, the dry spell is going to continue.”
“I don’t need a bunch of lovers. I don’t need to be shared. I do desperately need you to put a tiny bit more pressure on me. Please.”
“Don’t hold back. I want to hear you come. Take it from me. Come all over my hand and let your Master know how much you appreciate him.”
