Trent
“I’VE GOT TO GO, KEN,” I told my agent when the security system notified me that the front gates were opening. “At this point, there’s nothing more for you to worry about. I’ve taken security into my own hands.”
“Don’t do this, Trent. I—”
I hung up the phone.
My guests for the evening had arrived and I intended to spend the next few hours relaxing and getting to know the two people who’d somehow become my sole focus, not explaining to my soon-to-be-ex-agent why my face was being plastered all over the place in recent days.
I glanced at the monitor, watching as the gates closed. The security guards I had stationed outside would ensure unauthorized people weren’t allowed in. I’d learned a long time ago that a gate alone wouldn’t keep people out. In fact, the house in California had increased security as of late due to a paparazzo managing to make his way onto my property. Thankfully, no one had been there at that time, but I was no longer willing to take any chances. Hence the reason I’d hired bodyguards for Clarissa and Troy.
Being famous certainly had its rewards. I was constantly offered free shit because someone wanted to use my name to advertise their product, I didn’t have to wait if I wanted to go somewhere, and people tended to ask how high when I said jump.
On the other hand, there were far too many noses in my business. It didn’t matter what I was doing, someone was always there to watch me, to attempt to catch me off guard. They were waiting for me to make a mistake, do something inappropriate, pick my nose, chew with my mouth open. I could say I’d gotten used to it, but that was a lie. I fucking hated the intrusive paparazzi and their need to be all up in my business. But I had learned to deal with them.
A few minutes later, when I heard the alarm system chime, signaling someone coming into the house, I reached for the remote and turned to click off the television. I stopped when I saw my picture flash across the screen. Yep, and there I was again.
Curious as to what story they were running now, I clicked the volume up.
“Yes, that’s right, Linda. We recently learned that Trent Ramsey’s assistant has moved into his Texas home with him. According to the company who handled the move, it was a rush job. Which makes me question how close the two of them are,” the male reporter stated.
Wow. That was fast. I hadn’t expected them to pick up on that for at least a couple of days.
“I’d say they’re pretty close, Mario. I mean, Troy Shelton has been working for Trent for three years, but even Trent’s past assistants were never invited to move in with him.”
It killed me that they referred to me by my first name as though we were friends.
“Exactly. Even Hilda Krause, the woman who worked for him the longest, never lived with him. So, I think this one must be special.”
Linda giggled. “Maybe Trent’s doing things differently these days. What with his salacious ventures into the BDSM club scene, perhaps he needs someone to be a little closer. Were you able to find out anything?”
“I was. As most people know, the intensely private assistant to Mr. Ramsey is Troy Shelton, the only child of Franklin Shelton, CEO of Kryptic Technologies. I was able to find out that Troy has experienced a series of break-ins recently. The police reports I was able to get my hands on stated nothing was stolen and no one was hurt.”
“Repeated? As in more than one?”
“At least eight confirmed, although one report said Troy had not reported all of them.”
“I assume he wasn’t home during them,” the woman said.
“Not that we’ve uncovered. Although that doesn’t lessen the seriousness of the situation.”
“I agree,” she added. “Were you able to get a statement from his family?”
“We reached out to his parents, but we received no comment,” the male reporter explained.
“Is it true that Troy and his father had a falling-out a few years ago?” the woman asked, obviously not as interested in facts as she was gossip.
“It’s true,” the man confirmed. “Troy resigned from his position with his father’s company, and not long after that, he was working for Trent.”
“Which begs the question, is that the reason he went to work for Trent?” the female reporter asked. “Or perhaps Trent is the reason they had the falling-out in the first place. Maybe a relationship between the two caused issues between Troy and his father.”
Footsteps sounded behind me and I glanced over my shoulder to see Troy and Clarissa stepping into the room.
“We’re—” Troy’s words were cut off when a picture of him flashed up on the screen. It was one they must’ve snapped yesterday during the move, because he was talking with a man wearing the moving company uniform.
“I’d say that’s a possibility, Linda. According to someone close to Troy, we’ve learned that he has a way with not only the ladies but also with men. Our source—a young man employed by Kryptic—was more than willing to divulge a past relationship with him. An intimate relationship.”
“So, it’s feasible to think that Trent and Troy have taken personal assistant to a whole new level? A relationship, perhaps?”
“Precisely. It’s an interesting turn of events. Considering Trent is thirty-five and he’s never been married, I have to wonder whether or not he’s been in the closet all these years. Maybe this is his way of coming out.”
“Perhaps this was the reason for his meeting with the lawyer,” she continued.
“Honestly, I don’t think the two are connected. While we don’t have all the details yet, we’ve learned some new things about Miss Tinsley.”
Knowing they would likely start bashing her because that was what they did, I clicked the television off and turned to face Troy and Clarissa.
I noticed instantly that Troy’s face was stark-white and Clarissa wasn’t faring much better.
“Good evening, sunshine,” I said to Clarissa, moving closer, drawing her attention away from the television.
“Good evening.”
“You look stunning.” The white halter dress showed off sun-bronzed skin covering toned arms and shoulders. She looked good enough to eat.
“Thank you.”
“Troy?” I glanced over at him.
My assistant’s eyes were still locked on the blank television screen.
“Troy?” I repeated.
Clarissa reached over and placed her hand on Troy’s arm, obviously realizing his distress. The simple move had my body hardening. I wasn’t sure what was so appealing about seeing her touching him, but…
“I’m so sorry,” Troy sputtered. “I can’t believe they’re running a report claiming I’m … that I’m…”
“My newest love interest?” I filled in for him.
His eyes widened, and his face paled even more.
“That doesn’t bother you?” His voice was pitched a little too high.
“Why would it? You, of all people, know the things they’ve said about me over the years.”
I’d heard damn near everything. Everyone knew the reporters were looking for a story and if they couldn’t find one, they simply made it up. At one point, I’d been accused of being inducted into the Church of Scientology by Tom Cruise, dating a woman in her nineties, having three girlfriends at one time, and looking into leaving acting and becoming a MMA fighter.
Knowing Troy would have to come to terms with this on his own, I placed my hand on his shoulder and turned him so we could leave my office. I took Clarissa’s elbow and steered them into the foyer, past the dual staircases and into the living room.
“What time will the food arrive?” I asked Troy.
He didn’t answer.
“He said seven,” Clarissa offered helpfully. “Do you think he’ll be all right?”
I chuckled. “I’m sure he will.” I stopped at the sofa and nudged Troy until he sat down. He was still staring blankly. “Let me grab some wine while we wait for dinner to arrive.”
I found Zeke and Ra
nsom standing in the kitchen. “Feel free to take a couple of hours off,” I told them. “You have free rein of the house. Whatever you need.”
“Sure thing, boss man,” Zeke said with a smirk before he ushered Ransom out of the room.
As I headed for the wine cellar, I grabbed my phone and dialed the security guard at the main gates, informing him we had food coming and asking him to deliver it to the house when it arrived.
Once that was done, I located what I was looking for, and with a smile on my face, I headed back toward my guests.
I was extremely curious to see how tonight was going to go.
Whether they realized it or not, those reporters had just made my job a whole lot easier.
After all, they’d given Troy a glimpse into my intentions.
Troy
I COULDN’T FEEL MY HANDS.
Perhaps I was going into shock.
How in the hell did this happen? A picture of me—of all people—plastered on the big screen while reporters talked about how someone from my past admitted I’d been in a gay relationship. That was absurd. I wasn’t newsworthy.
Not that I cared that was made public. I’d never tried to hide it. My father might be a hard-ass when it came to business, but he never gave me the impression I would be less in his eyes because of who I chose to spend my time with. So, I didn’t have parents to keep that from, either. I merely kept it to myself because it was difficult to explain that I was into both women and men.
However, it bothered me that my boss was being dragged into this scandal. The press was accusing us of having…
No. I couldn’t even fathom it. Fucking hell.
Trent had every right to fire me for this and I honestly wouldn’t blame him if he did. The last thing anyone needed was to have rumors being spread about their sexuality.
“Troy, are you all right?”
The sweet, feminine voice drew me out of my thoughts. Clarissa was sitting right beside me, her cool fingers on my forearm. For a brief moment, all thought fled and the only thing I could focus on was how smooth her hand was, how good her touch felt.
During the drive from her house, we’d talked endlessly. Mostly about the crazy shit she was explaining on that limit list. There was some seriously weird shit people were into. Granted, I found myself somewhat intrigued to experience a few of those things. We’d laughed and somehow managed to fill out at least a quarter of the first page before we arrived.
I peered over at her. “I’m… I think I’ll be fine.” Just as soon as I got out of there, everyone would be fine.
“I’m sure there have been a million rumors about Trent over the years,” she said softly. “He probably shrugs them off.”
I could see Clarissa’s point. Sort of. Trent wasn’t the sort to dwell on what anyone thought of him. “But have they ever claimed he was gay?”
She giggled. “Not that I’ve heard, no.”
“See? So this is—”
“It’s harmless is what it is.” Trent’s deep voice boomed as he stepped into the room. “What I choose to do in the privacy of… Well, what I choose to do is no one’s business but mine and those who are willing to do it with me.”
I glanced up to see he was carrying a bottle of wine and three glasses.
“I really should go to my … room,” I told him, getting to my feet. “Crap. I should really find another place to—”
He nudged me right back down onto my ass. “Don’t move.”
While I did exactly as he instructed—practically frozen in place—Trent proceeded to pour wine in each of the glasses.
“Look, Trent. I know this isn’t what you signed on for, so…”
As he handed one over to me, our eyes met.
“Does it bother you that they’ve claimed we’re in a relationship?” he questioned, a smirk curving the corner of his mouth.
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” I admitted.
“Good. Then neither of us is worried. So, for the rest of the night, I refuse to allow you to think about it. And if you do, then…” He took a sip of wine, then grinned back at me. “You’ll be punished.”
“Punished?”
“Yes.”
Warmth slammed into me at the thought. I knew he was referring to his BDSM-type punishment and for whatever reason, that was enough to erase the past few minutes from my mind.
Mostly.
I turned my attention to Clarissa. “I apologize for how I’ve acted. I should’ve been showing you around.”
“We’ll get to that,” Trent stated, then angled his body toward Clarissa. “Tell me how Troy did.”
A small groove split her forehead and I could see she was confused by the request.
“When he arrived at your house,” he explained. “Was he pleasant?”
“Oh, yes,” she said immediately, her gaze snapping to mine. “Quite pleasant.”
I could tell she was nervous, but she was handling herself well. From the moment I’d stepped into her house, she’d been fidgety. Not that I blamed her. Being summoned by Trent was likely not the most soothing thing in the world. Not to mention, she’d been forced to spend the past twenty-four hours with a bodyguard invading her space. I was sure she was as shaken by the turn of events as I was. Although, she was hiding it much better than me.
Yet I realized she hadn’t complained once. No excuses, no reasons she couldn’t come over. In fact, Clarissa had been a little too compliant.
“Did you manage to talk?” he asked her.
“We did.” Her smile widened. “I explained some things on the limit list he’s filling out.”
“Did you now?” Trent grinned as he glanced between the two of us before his eyes came to a stop on me. “And how’s that coming along?”
I held his gaze. “I’m working on it.”
“Good. And thank you for picking her up,” Trent stated.
“You’re welcome.” I took a big gulp of wine. “That’s what you pay me for.”
“Actually, I don’t,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “I pay you to do plenty of things for me but being my errand boy isn’t one of them. However, in this instance, I had an ulterior motive.”
Clarissa and I glanced at one another briefly, then my attention went back to Trent. “What ulterior motive?”
“I wanted to see how well the two of you would get along.”
It was my turn to frown. “Why?”
“Because I intend to spend a lot of time with both of you.” His attention bounced between us. “Together. And separately.”
I wasn’t sure if that required a comment, but I racked my brain for something to say. I felt as though he was setting something up, but I wasn’t sure what it could possibly be.
“But there is one thing I want to make very clear,” Trent continued.
I watched his face, admiring the chiseled lines. He was so in control of every move he made. He was the type of man who was comfortable in his own skin. Not that anyone could blame him. Looking like Trent … well, I wasn’t sure anyone would complain to look like him.
“It’s imperative our relationship remains as private as we can keep it.” His eyes locked with mine. “Not because I’m ashamed of the things I do, but as you can tell, it’s only going to invite attention. And my one and only priority is to keep the two of you safe.”
I was extremely confused. “By relationship, you mean me being your personal assistant and Clarissa being…” I wasn’t sure what Clarissa was to him. “Your girlfriend?”
Trent smirked, lifting his wineglass to his lips. “No, I’m actually referring to the two of you being my submissives.”
Yeah. You could’ve heard a pin drop on carpet.
In China.
NINE
Clarissa
HIS SUBMISSIVES?
Both of us?
I could admit that I was a little caught up in everything that was going on. The reporter, the bodyguard, having been practically swept out of my house and over to Trent’s. Going ove
r the limit list. Then to watch as Troy had a minor meltdown thanks to that news report. Well, in all fairness, it was an entertainment channel. Not exactly news. I doubted most of the world cared about Trent Ramsey’s sexual orientation.
However, I was certainly curious.
“Your submissives?” Troy asked, a slight tremble in his voice.
I admired him, though. I couldn’t speak if I’d wanted to, so I was grateful he was voicing the same thoughts I had.
“Yes.” Trent’s blue eyes traveled over and landed on me. “However, that’s not something I intend to discuss this evening. I want to spend our time getting to know one another. After all, this is our first date.”
Did that sound strange? Our first date? I figured lunch yesterday would’ve qualified. Or was he referring to the three of us?
Oh.
He was referring to the three of us.
My eyes cut to Troy. He was as shocked as I was, so I could only take that to mean he wasn’t privy to this information beforehand. It certainly explained his reaction.
Or maybe I was dreaming and my warped subconscious—which obviously thought Troy was hot, too—was trying to find a way to work the three of us together.
I discreetly pinched my arm and winced. Not asleep.
My gaze wandered to Trent, then over to Troy and back again.
I had yet to figure out what Trent could possibly see in me. The man had dated supermodels. I was the furthest thing from one of those that any woman could be. I carried a few extra pounds and no amount of Pilates seemed to help. However, I wasn’t the type of girl to fret over it. I ate healthy, indulging when I wanted, and exercised a few times a week. I never felt the need to starve myself or become rail thin.
A chime sounded from somewhere and both Troy and Trent glanced down at their watches, as though they’d received some sort of alert there.
“The food’s here,” Trent acknowledged, glancing over at Troy. “If you wouldn’t mind meeting Donald. He’s bringing it up to the house.”
Their Famous Dominant Page 15
