The Man I Desire (The Man I Need Trilogy #2)

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by Loretta Steel


  ‘I didn’t know where you were. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.’

  ‘The police? But I wasn’t missing?’

  ‘I’d like to know where you are, that’s all. It’s not safe out here alone. What if you fell?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, and I meant it. I knew he cared, I knew he wanted to protect me. But how could he if he didn’t know where I was?

  ‘Come here,’ he said, smiling.

  I allowed him to embrace me. He stood like a barrier between the wind and I.

  ‘I worry because I care. I care because-‘

  ‘Don’t say it.’

  ‘I love you,’ he said.

  But I still wasn’t sure I felt the same way about him. I liked him a lot. Did that count?

  BLAKE

  What man doesn’t fantasize about his girlfriend’s reaction when he threatens to turn her over his knee? Every man has the desire to put an end to misery.

  Ezra wasn’t the first and she wouldn’t be the last to end up in that position. It goes on behind closed doors, a secret society, a rare breed of men who refuse to be subordinated by a woman. Through the ages in all societies women expected it, even accepted it as part of the deal of marriage, then feminism took over and decided to abolish it. They only succeeded in keeping it quiet. Silencing the very act that saved marriages and created a calm household. Even Ezra seemed to understand this.

  The very act of baring Ezra of her modesty aroused me, and I knew by the way she writhed about on my lap that it aroused her too. She was wet as she climbed off me. I felt her pussy graze my denim covered knee and I wished to god to take her right there and then. But that would ruin the moment. She needed to feel accountable. She needed a clear head. She needed to process things. I understood that.

  I kissed her hard, sending shockwaves of pleasure down my loins. I wanted to kiss her better. To taste her. But to do so would detract from the point I was trying to make so I held on to her with kid gloves and didn’t fall for her whining apology, knowing exactly where she was trying to take me.

  ‘Touch me,’ she said.

  ‘Not now.’

  ‘But I need you.’

  ‘Your sexual feelings are a result of our closeness. But that’s not how it’s going to be.’

  ‘You can’t deny me sex.’

  ‘I deny you the right to control me.’

  Her eyes sparkled, but she didn’t back away. She allowed me to hold her. Her need to feel cherished outweighed her need to nurture. She knew how far she could push me. I had reassured her that no matter what she said or did I would be there for her.

  ‘Okay,’ she said.

  Ezra might have felt vulnerable, powerless, weak even but I saw a strong, independent, capable woman who had let go of her need to control and had given in to her deep-rooted desire to be loved. Loved enough to be taken in hand. Loved enough to submit to me.

  Because despite what the media leads you to believe women don’t fall into these kinds of relationships by accident. Neither are they forced into them kicking and screaming. Ezra walked into it willingly, with an open heart and her head held high. And for that, I loved her more. That attraction is not from seeing her cry or from seeing her sore. I had no intention of hurting her, above what would be expected. I felt honored she had chosen me to show her the way. She respected me to decide for her what was needed.

  What I hoped was for her to learn to love as I had done, because I had fallen for her, completely.

  EZRA

  The week continued in a blur of happiness and serenity; a kind of peace I’d never known before took over us both. I was in a quiet contemplative mood when it dawned on me that it might have had something to do with Blake’s refusal to let me get away with the things I had done when we’d first met. It might also have had something to do with the fact we were miles from anyone and the cottage was always filled with the sounds and smells of fresh linen being washed, home cooked meals and the radio blasting classical music from Blake’s office upstairs.

  I felt as though I’d wandered into an old western film, and I couldn’t help liking it. It was an easier way of life. All the usual daily stresses of work and commuting were gone. Except of course, for Blake they had only worsened. He spent most evenings traveling home. We barely saw one another during the week. The only problem was, I knew the honeymoon period wouldn’t last forever. I was trying to eek it out for as long as possible. But real life doesn’t work out like a western. There isn’t always a happy ending. And sooner or later, I was going to have to accept that I wasn’t on holiday. This was my life now, like it or not, I’d made a decision, and being the stubborn woman I am, I wasn’t going to admit to Blake that I’d probably bitten off more than I could chew. I didn’t want him to think that I’d lost faith in him. Because I hadn’t. But, I guess, I’d started to lose faith in myself. I wasn’t sure if I could stick to the arrangements we’d made. I wasn’t sure I could continue forth on the path to mastering submission. It was going to take a lot to change my deeply embedded attitude.

  BLAKE

  Each time I returned home, Ezra seemed to have drifted further into her own head. I’d begun to suspect that she was suffering some form of mild depression. My only concern was that she felt she needed to change her whole persona, rather than just the way she spoke and behaved when she was angry or scared, which these days wasn’t often at all because she didn’t seem to be able to feel anything.

  I was used to her emotions taking over her head, not the other way around. She hadn’t bothered to brush her hair when I returned from another long day at the London office, and I noticed her eyeliner was smudged. Ezra would never leave the house without a fine coating of foundation applied to her already perfect pale skin. But there was none covering her dry complexion. No lipstick accentuating her soft lips.

  I’d discovered no connection between Abe and my sister. Leaving me with no choice but to accept that my sister’s murderer must have been David Poole, now buried in the London cemetery. I wasn’t feeling good about letting it lie, but I had no choice. I had more pressing concerns to contend with.

  EZRA

  I was tired. I hadn’t bothered with the housework, filling my time instead with reading and drinking tea. He’d got home from work tense, and the energy in the room shifted the moment he took in the mess. I knew it was my responsibility. My only responsibility, but I was still struggling with having to contend with the chores whilst he ate lunch with clients and faffed about in his office, making calls and filing paperwork.

  He’d offered me the job of being his secretary, but the position wasn’t what I’d had in mind as I pictured him working. I imagined I’d spend far too much time bent over his desk and the thought excited me. We’d never get any work done. I’d offer him my seductive smile and tease and flirt with him until he gave in, giving me what I wanted.

  He tutted, but I ignored him because he wasn’t mad. He smiled and glanced around the room at the piles of magazines littering the coffee table. The carpet not vacuumed for days spread with crumbs. The dirty laundry still waiting to be washed on the kitchen floor. I knew his mock annoyance meant ‘what have you been doing today?’ but how could I tell him?

  I’d managed to get a signal online and had discovered via Google that Blake had been right all along, not that I was going to admit that to him, of course. Tyler Black was on license and living in a small supported housing complex with his mother, Joan. He hadn’t attempted to leave the city since his release from HMP Marshfield six weeks earlier. Which meant that Maddie had been the only person responsible for breaking into my flat and leaving notes (not that she’d had to actually break in as I’d given her a key), calling me from withheld numbers, and dumping a cat in my apartment. The cat may have climbed up the fire escape to enter, but I hadn’t ruled out Madison’s prior knowledge that I hadn’t owned a cat since Tyler had buried one in front of me.

  I snapped out of my self-absorbed misery to hear Blake’s voice intruding on my thoug
hts.

  ‘Could you wash my pinstripe suit?’

  ‘I’ll do it later,’ I mumbled to Blake. And he turned towards the stairs.

  As he showered and changed into something I noticed the receipt on the table, left deliberately in view for me to see. He’d booked us a table at an Italian restaurant. I felt guilty for not having the balls to thank him when he returned to the room a while later. I made my way upstairs, dressed, combed back my new short bob haircut he’d paid for, and slipped on a pair of tights. Now that it was colder, the end of summer rubbing away, I decided on a pair of heeled boots with fur lining to keep the chill in the air from seeping through to my toes.

  I was glad to be out of the house, when he opened the car door for me to get in beside him. The car smelt clean and I felt under-dressed in my little black dress. The one I wore a lot. It was Friday and the week had been hectic and stressful for Blake who’d had to rearrange an investigation and cancel a last minute meeting. Paperwork was ‘flooding in’ apparently, and I got the impression he wanted an answer to his invitation to work with him. But how could I work with the man I slept with. He would be my boss. The dynamic would be unsettling, and so I did what I always did in uncomfortable situations and pushed it to the back of my mind. Denial was a reaction of the weak he’d told me a few days ago, but I didn’t care.

  The meal went well, but my mind wasn’t on the meal. My thoughts kept retreating back to my conscience which told me to run for the hills. What are you doing letting him take over? Why are you worrying over housework when you’re young and childless? Only boring couples go out for meals?

  I wanted to go out clubbing. I wanted to get drunk. I wanted Blake to sweep me off my feet and treat me like a princess. He was far too old for me. Ten years was a long time when you thought about it. I was bored and it showed.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked from across the table.

  ‘Nothing,’ I said, placing another forkful of pasta into my mouth, hoping it would stop me from screaming with irritation.

  I was in a foul mood by the time we left and felt like snapping his head off, so decided it would be easier to keep my mouth shut. I feigned tiredness, and as he drew the car up outside the house the overwhelming feeling to run took over me once more. I was fighting an inner demon, the very one he’d warned me about.

  ‘When you feel like it’s too much you know that your old ways are trying to take over. To banish them you need to be honest with yourself. Look at the problem, find a way to solve it and move on,’ he’d said.

  But I was stuck. I couldn’t get past the over-thinking stage to even begin to search inside myself for the answers. And I had no intention of looking at my issues. There were too many of them to deal with so I sat silently, listening to the drumming rain hitting the shiny car bonnet.

  ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

  ‘No.’

  I continued staring ahead, watching the rain fall down onto the willow trees and off again, springing to the floor in droplets, coating the grassy ground so that the mud sloshed into puddles beneath it.

  ‘I’m here for you, no matter what.’

  ‘I know,’ I sighed.

  I could tell that my silence was grating on him, but I couldn’t find the words to explain my misery, least of all to him.

  He placed a hand on my arm to soothe me, but it only ignited my nerves further. I moved away from his touch and shook my head.

  ‘If there’s something bothering you and it’s affecting us both then I really think you need to talk about it.

  ‘You need to let off steam, you mean?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘You heard.’ I could no longer bridle my tongue, The words felt good as they fired off one by one, landing like bullets on Blake, who sat there and listened thoughtfully.

  ‘You need to vent,’ I said.

  He replied, but I wasn’t listening. Too self-absorbed to see the damage I was doing, yet again.

  ‘Enough, Ezra. I’m not the enemy here.’

  ‘You think I’m a nag?’

  ‘Do you think you’re nagging me?’

  ‘Don’t turn it around on me. Answer the damned question.’

  ‘Please don’t raise your voice to me.’

  ‘Oh, this is bullshit.’

  ‘I won’t tolerate that language.’

  ‘You won’t tolerate anything.’

  ‘Last warning.’

  I breathed in deeply, looked him straight in the eyes and said, ‘you enjoy this don’t you.’

  Because it seemed he did. He wound me up to the point of no return and then blamed me for his reaction.

  ‘I don’t enjoy being spoken to like that. I don’t enjoy being embarrassed like that either.’

  ‘Embarrassed?’

  ‘In the restaurant. You deliberately shunned me in front of the waiter.’

  ‘Shunned you?’

  ‘Ignored me, refused to speak to me-‘

  ‘I was thinking.’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘About, how … okay.’

  ‘Okay, what?’

  ‘I don’t know if I could do this forever.’

  ‘I’m not asking for forever.’

  ‘That’s not what I’m saying.’

  ‘Then what are you saying?’

  ‘I think I’m falling for you.’

  ‘You-‘

  ‘There, I’ve said it. But I’m scared.’

  ‘Scared of what?’

  I didn’t want to talk any more. I wanted to kiss him. To melt into his arms and forget this conversation ever happened. I leaned towards him but he held out his hand to stop me.

  ‘Talk.’

  His request was decent, but my body tensed at my vulnerability.

  ‘Do I have to spank it out of you?’

  How could I tell him the threat of a spanking made me desire him more? If he cared enough to stop an argument before it got out of control, if he cared enough to keep me in a peaceful, nurturing mindset, then he was doing his job. I wasn’t doing mine if I didn’t give him what he wanted.

  ‘Your interests …’

  I couldn’t get my words out. They stumbled from me like pins falling from a cushion. I wasn’t making any sense.

  ‘It’s not a kink, a fetish. You know that don’t you?’

  ‘Then what is it?’

  ‘It’s a way of being. The way it’s meant to be.’

  ‘But it’s not, is it?’

  He shook his head. ‘Why are you doing this?’

  When I thought about it, I realized that I’d continued to fend him off at every chance. I couldn’t help it. It was in my blood. My DNA. The primal instinct to, at any god-given opportunity, start a fight. The problem was I’d met a man who wasn’t afraid to end them.

  ‘I think …’ I knew what I was going to say, but the words froze in my throat.

  I was trying to see how far he’d go. I knew what he was capable of, but I had no idea where the boundaries stood. I pushed and pushed until he snapped and then when it was over I’d ask myself the same question again and again, ‘what’s his stopping point?’

  ‘Speak?’ he said, impatient.

  Was he really going to make me say this?

  I looked down at the floor, tears prickling my eyes.

  The words felt hollow and sounded wooden when they came

  ‘I’m scared you’ll lose control. Take it too far.’

  ‘I see,’ he said, realization dawning on him. ‘It’s a huge responsibility that I, not you, should concern yourself with. I’m in control of myself and I promise to only give you what you need. Nothing more.’

  I still hadn’t been given an answer, but I was assured by his soothing voice.

  I’d made this decision. I’d chosen this man. The least I could do would be to make the best of what we had. Despite my misgivings, I’d fallen for him big time. I’d fancied him from the moment I laid eyes on him because he was mine. He was everything I needed and more. He cared deeply and loved fi
rmly. He was the man I needed. But could he be the man I’d desire?

  BLAKE

  There were unspoken rules to this lifestyle. I had no problem with controlling the tempo, but I feared any misgivings Ezra had were not about us or our lifestyle choice, but about her pain threshold. Ezra feared the unknown. The most basic of all were linked to the close intensity of orgasm. The mini-death. She feared I’d go too far. That I’d break her.

  ‘I would never hurt you for real. You know that don’t you?’

  ‘I know.’

  She looked sad. I held her close and breathed in the soft scent of her hair. Noticing her dewy complexion.

  I knew there were questions she had, but I knew when to divulge them and when to remain silent. Now wasn’t the time to go over every minute detail. It would be too much information all at once and I didn’t want to scare her away.

  EZRA

  The dynamics had shifted. I felt as though I was falling through space, ungrounded. Blake was everything I had expected him to be and more, but it wasn’t enough. I was still being hounded by the press after Madison had pleaded her innocence to a reporter from prison. And I was still none the wiser as to why Madison had betrayed me and hurt me the way she had. Since I’d come off-radar I felt I was losing a part of myself. My online presence had gone in the blink of an eye the moment I’d accepted Blake’s offer of refuge.

  Spending so much time alone in the cottage had turned me into a recluse. I needed to get back to work. I was beginning to reconsider knocking back Blake’s proposal to work for him. At least it would get me out of the house and I’d have something other than the housework to do.

  He interrupted my thoughts when he appeared in the doorway clutching the phone in his shaking hand. I’d never seen him look so broken before. There he was, a man of steel turned suddenly into a quivering wreck.

 

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