Fire and Honor

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Fire and Honor Page 25

by M. S. Parker


  The fact that she'd done that for a complete stranger intrigued me.

  Hell, she was pretty much the only thing that intrigued me at the moment.

  Then the person who'd come into the room stepped close enough that I could see who it was. My heart twisted, suddenly too full of emotions.

  Tall, muscular despite his age. Dark brown hair streaked with white. Emerald eyes that looked sadder than they had in a long time.

  “Oh, kid. What'd you do now?” The old man shook his head as he pulled up a chair.

  Father Doron O'Toole. The closest thing to family I had.

  My throat felt like it was tightening around the tube, and my eyes stung. I appreciated the fact that he was here, but I didn't want him to see me like this. Weak. Helpless.

  Destroyed.

  I motioned with my right hand. We'd been pretty much sticking with the 'blink once for yes, twice for no' line of communication, but this wasn't something I wanted to play a guessing game with. I'd had one thought repeating over and over in my head since I'd woken up. I'd tried to push it away, tried to think of something else, but now that he was here, I needed to tell him.

  After a moment, he saw what I was doing and found a pad of paper and a pen. He set it on my bed and put the pen in my hand. It took a moment before my fingers could grip it correctly, and even then, I knew my handwriting was shit. It didn't matter though, as long as it was legible.

  When I held it up for Father O'Toole to read, I knew I'd managed at least that much.

  Four words.

  Four shaky words.

  I want to die.

  Continues in Dom X Vol. 2. Grab the complete 5 book Box Set of Dom X now. On SALE for a limited time. CLICK HERE to download the complete Box Set and keep reading.

  Chasing Perfection Vol. 1

  1

  Devon

  As I used the expensive linen napkin to wipe the wine from my face, I was glad I'd ordered white instead of red. My dry cleaner would be able to salvage my dress shirt. I was still pissed, though. A perfectly good glass of Chardonnay wasted in a fit of childish temper.

  “You're breaking up with me?” The beautiful blonde who was still in the midst of the previously mentioned temper tantrum had pushed back from the table and was now standing to deliver her indignant monologue. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  I opened my mouth to tell her to sit down and be quiet, but she didn't let me speak.

  “After everything I've let you do to me?” Her face was starting to get that red, splotchy look that happened when fair-skinned women let their temper get the best of them. She looked around at the other diners, most of whom were no longer even trying to be polite and ignore the scene.

  “I let you tie me up for your little games!” She was almost shrieking now. “You fucking spanked me!”

  Shit.

  I could see the expressions on the other men and women, saw their eyes darting towards me. Some of them recognized me. That was not acceptable.

  I stood and crossed to her in two long strides, putting just an inch between our bodies so we weren't touching, but she was forced to look up at me. I glared down at her and spoke in a low voice, the one that demanded submission.

  “You are behaving in a manner most unbecoming, Miss Paine.” As it always did when I was trying to control my temper, the faint accent that usually tinged my words thickened until I sounded more like the teenaged boy who'd first stepped off the plane from Venice. That just made me more angry. My next statement was nearly a growl. “You know what happens when you misbehave in public.”

  Her mouth snapped shut.

  I watched her swallow hard and the anger in her face drained away, replaced by lust. I preferred that look on a woman's face. Lust was easy to control.

  I took a step back and motioned for one of the waiters who'd been nervously standing in the shadows.

  “Yes, Sir?” the man asked nervously.

  “Bill me for the meal,” I said. “And a bottle of wine for each table as an apology for the disruption of your guests' meals.” I glanced at the waiter. “And add a thirty percent tip for your aggravation as well.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  I turned my attention back to my soon-to-be former lover. “Follow me.”

  I didn't bother to check if she was following as I walked towards the exit. I kept my eyes forward, my head up, expression blank. The only thing that betrayed what was bubbling under the surface was my lips pressed in a thin line. I stepped out into the balmy autumn night, not pausing to see if she was coming. I walked around the corner and into the narrow alley that separated the expensive Beverly Hills restaurant from the boutique next door. Less than a minute later, she appeared, stepping into the alley without a moment of hesitation.

  “Face the wall, palms flat against it.”

  I could see her fingers trembling as she did as she was told. She knew what was coming, and the fact that she was here meant that she accepted it, wanted it. She was always free to walk away at any time. I knew she wouldn't, though. They never did.

  I closed the space between us and slid my hands under the hem of her shirt. I had instructed her to wear the two-piece dress combination rather than a full dress for just this reason. Of all my lovers, Sami had been one of the most contentious – and not always in an enjoyable way – requiring far more discipline than the others. It hadn't been a difficult decision to end our... encounter.

  I pulled down her skirt and tapped her bare calf. She lifted one leg, then the other, kicking away half of the twenty-five hundred dollar garment. The top came down to the middle of her ass, leaving the rest of her bare. Like all my women, she didn't wear panties in public. I preferred easy access at all times. I only allowed those who needed it to wear a bra. Sami didn't.

  I wasn't interested in her breasts at the moment, however. I ran my hand over the firm globes of pale flesh and felt her tense. I smiled and drew my hand back.

  The first crack echoed in the alley, sounding louder because of the silence between us. She didn't make a sound until my hand made contact for the third time, the skin on her ass already starting to turn a delightful shade of pink.

  “Ahhh...” It wasn't exactly pleasure, but it wasn't pain either. Sami was in that place where the two were starting to join, but her body hadn't sorted out how it wanted to respond.

  I spanked her harder, reminding her that this was a punishment for her behavior. It wasn't meant to truly hurt her, but she needed to feel it. My palm was starting to sting and I was starting to wish I'd thought to bring a belt. Used correctly, it worked as well as a flogger to bring my submissive right to that edge.

  I didn't stop until her breathing began to hitch and I could see the moisture between her legs. Only then did I reach into my pocket for one of the little packets I kept on me at all times. I tore it open, unzipped my pants and rolled the condom down over my throbbing cock.

  When I stepped up behind her and nudged her legs further apart, I could feel the heat radiating off of her ass. She wasn't going to be able to sit comfortably for days. I lined myself up and thrust into her pussy with one hard stroke.

  She keened as I buried my full length inside her. She was wet, but still so tight that it was almost painful for me, but I didn't stop. I grabbed a handful of her hair as I began to pound into her. I could feel her body quivering around me as I tugged on her hair. For as much as she'd made it sound like I was the one who wanted it rough, she got off on it just as much as I did.

  I could feel the pressure building in my stomach and knew I was close. I'd been wound too tight from the moment she'd started her tantrum, and spanking her had just made it that much worse. I put my mouth against her ear.

  “Come if you can, but I'm not helping you.”

  She growled in frustration, but I ignored her. My own release was too near. I lowered my head to the place where her shoulder met her neck and took some of the skin there into my mouth, sucking on it, nibbling it with my teeth. We were done, but I'd make sure
she'd remember our last time together.

  She was making whining little mews now, pushing back to meet my thrusts, forcing me even deeper. I put my hands on her hips and held her in place as I slammed into her, biting down on her neck as I came. She wailed, her body shaking around mine, further proof that I wasn't the only one who liked what I'd done.

  I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the waves of pleasure wash over and through me. I let out a breath and took a step back, hearing her hiss as I slid out of her. She staggered, as if her legs couldn't hold her, and then rolled so that her back was against the wall, propping her up. She gave me a cat-ate-the-canary kind of smile.

  I discarded the condom and tucked myself back into my pants. I pulled out my wallet and withdrew a twenty. “Here.” I tossed it towards her. “Take a cab.”

  I saw the shock settle over her and resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Had she really thought this meant we weren't done?

  “Danny will be your agent from here on out. I don't want to see your face again.” I turned and started towards the street where my car would be waiting.

  I'd just reached the sidewalk when she screamed out, “Asshole!”

  I didn't acknowledge it as I thanked the valet, tipped him and climbed into the driver's seat. Sami was right. I was an asshole, but that's the way it had to be. Two weeks was my usual, four at the max. No attachments. Ever.

  Besides, I reasoned as I started towards home, Sami was just another no-talent, wanna-be actress, anyway. The best she could ever hope for would be bit parts in cheap, made-for-TV movies before she made the inevitable transition to adult films. She'd do okay there. She had a nice body and was a decent enough lay, though not as good as she seemed to think she was.

  Women like her were a dime a dozen. They all came to Hollywood with the same idea, that their pretty face and tight pussies would let them sleep their way to the top. And I was the top. I was DeVon fucking Ricci, one of the biggest agents in Hollywood. Nothing could touch me.

  2

  Krissy

  I leaned against the edge of my best friend's desk, watching as she put the last of her things into a plastic container. Leave it to Carrie to be overly organized. We were complete opposites that way and I knew my disorganization annoyed her as much as her tidiness annoyed me.

  Damn, I was going to miss her.

  Carrie Summers had been my best friend since we'd met at Columbia six years ago. We'd been roommates in the dorm, then moved into an apartment after we'd been hired at Webster and Steinberg. We'd met Dena and Leslie here, and the four of us were close, but Carrie and I were closer. Sometimes, I thought that we were more like sisters than friends, and I knew she felt the same way.

  “I can't believe we're having cake again.” I sighed, putting a bit of drama into it. “It's only been two months since we had cake for your graduation party.” I gave her a shrewd look. “You just wanted to feed that sweet tooth, didn't you?”

  Carrie gave me a soft smile, the same smile that she'd been wearing since she'd started making these plans. I loved Carrie, but she'd always been a bit uptight. She'd always been the one who'd needed coaxing to follow her heart and her dreams. Now, she was leaving one of the largest divorce law firms in New York to start her own pro bono law practice helping people who'd been abused, specifically focusing on the sex trafficking industry.

  “I'm going to miss you,” I said. As soon as I said the words, I wished I could take them back. They hadn't come out as light-hearted as I'd intended, and sincere emotions weren't something I liked showing in public.

  Carrie paused in her packing and looked up, giving me a puzzled look. I had to drop my gaze down to where my fingers were tapping at the edge of the desk. I couldn't meet those dark eyes. Not when it was finally time to tell her.

  “What do you mean you're going to miss me?” she asked. “I'm only going to be four blocks away. We can still have lunch together every day and meet after work for drinks whenever you want. That's the joy of being my own boss. Flexibility.”

  I pushed back my thick, glossy black hair. It was past my shoulders now and I was thinking it might be a good idea to cut it before I left. There was a big difference in the weather from here to where I was going.

  “Is this about me moving in with Gavin?”

  Carrie's question made me look up, startled. I hadn't thought she'd take it that way.

  “I thought you said you were okay with it.”

  I straightened. “I am,” I assured her. “I am. Gavin's smoking hot, and a really good guy. I'm glad that you're moving in together.”

  I was telling the truth. For a while after they'd first met, my approval of Gavin had fluctuated, but once the whole truth had come out, I'd been more than happy to put my stamp of approval on their relationship. Some people might've thought they were moving too fast, but I knew Carrie. She never would've made this decision if she wasn't sure about him, and I'd given her my full support. She deserved to be happy, and so did he.

  Carrie folded her arms over her chest and her eyes narrowed. “Well, something's weird with you. What is it, girl? Spill.”

  Dammit. Why did she always have to be so insightful when it came to me? I'd wanted to ease into this, but like most of my life, I'd fallen into it. “I'm probably leaving the company, too,” I said slowly. Carrie's eyes widened. “And that's not all,” I continued. “I'm most likely leaving New York as well.”

  Carrie's jaw dropped and she stared at me for nearly a full, uncomfortable minute. Then her mouth snapped shut and she gave me a suspicious look. “Are you saying this because I'm moving out? If you don't want me to go or you think I'm moving too fast with Gavin, just say so. He'll understand if I change my mind.”

  Was she serious? I rolled my eyes. “Really, Carrie? Come on. You know me better than that,” I said. “I think you and Gavin should definitely move in together. The truth is, there's a job as an associate looking my way.”

  I saw shock, then hurt, cross her face.

  “You've been keeping this a secret from me for how long? Why?”

  “I applied three months ago,” I said. “And then I had the phone interview two weeks after that. Understand why I didn't say anything?” I saw her doing the math in her head and then watched her frustration with me fade away as she realized that I hadn't told her because she'd had enough going on at the time. “I haven't exactly gotten it yet. Besides, I didn't even know if I'd get called out for a face-to-face interview.”

  “And that's what this is? Not a definite, but an interview?”

  I nodded. “They said it was down to just three applicants now. I think I have a good shot.” I paused, then added, “And even if I don't get it, I might look out there anyway.”

  “Out there?” Carrie echoed. I knew she was still putting the pieces together and had just understood that when I said out of the city, I hadn't meant Jersey. “Where's the job?”

  Here was the part I really hadn't been looking forward to. “On the West Coast.”

  Carrie took a slow, deep breath, letting it out before she asked her next question. “You mean you might move to San Francisco or some place like that?”

  “Not San Francisco,” I said. “Hollywood.”

  “Are you nuts? You want to go be some divorce lawyer in L.A.?”

  I shook my head. If she hated that idea, she was really going to hate this one. “The offer's from a talent agency.”

  She frowned. “A talent agency? What, are you trying to become an actress or something?”

  It was a mark of our friendship that I took pride in her snide remark. I found it comforting that I'd rubbed off on her over the years. “No, smart-ass,” I said. “One of the biggest talent agencies in Hollywood needs another associate in their legal department. Remember that guy, Kenny, who used to work here?”

  “The one you made out with in the elevator and then bragged about it over drinks?” Carrie's lips twitched into a grin. “Yeah, I have a vague recollection of him.”

  I laughed. Even
with as kinky as she and Gavin had gotten, Carrie was still hesitant to talk about sex anywhere that wasn't our apartment. Or, based on what I'd heard through our thin walls, the bedroom. “We did a little more than make out, but yes, that's the one. He's been trying to get back in my pants ever since. His cousin works at the agency and told him they were looking for another associate. He figured it'd be a good reason to call.”

  “Did you go out with him again?” Carried asked.

  I shook my head. “No way. He wasn't that good, or that hot.” I ignored the judgey look she was sending my way. She might keep her mouth shut about it most of the time, but I knew she didn't approve of the way I handled my romantic life. “But I did decide to send in my resumé and now they want me to fly in for an interview.”

  “When are you leaving?”

  “Monday morning. The meeting's at noon.”

  “I'm happy you have this opportunity,” Carrie said. Her eyes were bright with tears. “But if you get this job, am I ever going to see you again, or is this it?”

  I rolled my eyes again. “Of course we'll see each other.” I playfully pushed at her arm, trying to lighten the mood. This is exactly what I hadn't wanted. “I'll come visit. Or, here's an idea. You and Gavin can move to LA. Start your little sexy club out there. Give me a good place to scope out all those California hotties.”

  “Krissy.” Carrie said my name with a combination of affection and irritation.

  “And your pro bono business can be just as effective on the West Coast. There are plenty of young women being abused in California. Trust me. Probably more than in New York.”

  Carrie frowned. “That's not funny.”

  I held up my hands in a gesture of surrender. I knew I'd crossed the line as soon as the words had left my mouth. “I know, I know. Crude,” I said. “But I'm pretty sure that's a true statement.”

 

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