Slave To Love

by Bridget Midway

  The son tag made Jace bristle. He continued sitting and listening to what Rich had to say.

  Rich leaned back against his desk and looked down at Jace. “I did a little research. The quality of your work is impeccable. No complaints from buyers or customers. I’d be a fool not to want to associate myself with you and your work.”

  Jace felt a “but” coming.

  “However, the real estate market is down. No one is buying so these new homes you’re building are sitting there, collecting dust.”

  Jace gritted his teeth for a moment before he spoke. “I admit that turnover has been slow. But it’s always steady, and I always make a profit.”

  “Yes, you do. Another reason I found your proposal attractive. And you’re a fighter. I like that.” Rich patted Jace on his shoulder. “I’d like some time to consider your offer.”

  Jace nodded, but inside he wanted some confirmation that he had this deal. “Is there anything you need or want to know in order to agree to this union?”

  Rich sighed. “You had mentioned my rise from my humble beginnings. You are correct about that. I’ve worked hard to establish an honest and spotless brand. I don’t want that perception tarnished. I’d be more than willing to work with you as long as you do nothing to put a stain on my brand.”

  Jace nodded. He understood, especially nowadays, how perception equaled reality to some people.

  “I’ve worked hard to make sure that my customers are satisfied.” Jace continued pushing his impeccable company. “You don’t have anything to worry about with me.”

  Rich smiled. “I like hearing that. I’ll like it more when I’ve had some time to digest all of this information and do some of my own research. Make a follow-up appointment with Harvey at the desk for a month from today. I’ll be happy to give you my decision then. Deal?”

  The weight of the world fell off Jace’s shoulders. He stood to shake Rich’s hand. “Sounds fair. Thank you.”

  “Probably not the answer you were hoping for today, but don’t be disappointed.” Rich stood.

  Jace pulled his hand back from him. “I am, but I understand. I would have been surprised if you had agreed right here on the spot.”

  “Had I said yes today, would you have told me to think about it some more first?” Rich studied Jace like Jace knew he’d done during countless other business deals.

  This shark of a mogul didn’t get to his spot by resting. He swam the waters and kept an eye out for smaller, weaker prey.

  “No, I wouldn’t have. Because I know what I’m able to offer. You wouldn’t have been disappointed.” Jace picked up his jacket and case that contained his tablet and papers.

  “As long as everything comes back clean on you, in a month’s time, we’ll be doing business together.” When Rich beamed, his gleaming teeth almost blinded Jace.

  Jace took a step back. “Thank you for your time.”

  As instructed, Jace made the appointment with Rich’s receptionist. In exactly a month, he would be in league with the big boys.

  Too pent up to wait for the elevator, Jace took the stairs down from the twentieth floor to his rental car in the basement. He’d never been one to put all of his eggs in one basket, but he felt good about this meeting. Unlike the other meetings he’d had before this one, Rich didn’t say no.

  With each flight down, Jace thought about his future. He would no longer live in Eagan’s massive shadow. Jace would be the big deal. He would be the Morton people talked about instead of Eagan.

  As soon as he got back to the hotel, Jace packed up his belongings. To feel some sort of normalcy again he needed to get back home, back to what he knew. If he truly felt that way, he would get back into BDSM.

  Kitty had a point. He had turned away from his true self because of some damn book series and his brother. If he wanted to be authentic, he would go back to being Christian Jace instead of Jace, and he would embrace his kinkier tendencies.

  Too bad he’d given away or discarded all of his old implements. All the whips had been trashed. His play furniture got new homes with old friends. He even tossed his large black book of play bottoms’ names.

  Jace took the next flight back home. With it being last minute, he had to endure long layovers and a very late arrival time. By the time he’d gotten to his house at one in the morning, he went from beyond exhausted to dead tired.

  He dragged his suitcase into his home. It didn’t take him long to find all his furniture gone. Large production lighting and cameras sat in the middle of his now empty living room.

  “Fuck.” He lowered his head and shook it.

  Ananda had already gotten started. He couldn’t blame her. He’d told her he would be gone for over a month and that she needed to get her shoot done by the time he’d gotten back. He had hoped she wouldn’t be this efficient.

  As he headed to his bedroom, a place he hoped no one had touched, he heard noises coming from the kitchen. The clanging sounded like pots and pans behind knocked together. If the crew still milled around his home, he would tell them to go on home.

  He crept toward the kitchen and stopped at the doorway. He first spotted the white, silky robe that sat on the counter by the entryway before he saw the vision in pink cotton panties dancing around in his kitchen while listening to some energetic song on her iPod.

  She had her hair pulled up in a messy bun on top of her head. Since she only wore panties, he wanted to see her turned around to view this stranger’s breasts. Her skin tone looked like finely sanded oak with a golden-colored varnish. She glowed. It didn’t help that with a light sheen of sweat, she also glistened.

  The song hit a section with a hard, rhythmic beat that made her jump up and down. Each time she landed, Jace felt his heart pounding in the same beat. He wanted to be out of his stuffy slacks and button-down shirt if for no other reason than to be able to feel her skin against his.

  She hadn’t turned around yet, but from behind he imagined her being the beauty Ananda had captured in a picture, the one from his event. As soon as he thought that, she twirled around as part of her dance move and froze when she saw him.

  Holy shit. It had been her. She stood there, no bra, small panties, and the cutest expression on her face, only a few feet from him. The Dom in him wanted to approach her. He had to play it cool…for now.

  Chapter Seven

  The woman in Jace’s kitchen screamed, then peered down at the robe that lay under his hand. Jace had no designs to move his hand or give her the robe. He let the smooth material slide through his fingers. The sensation made him think about her body. Could she be this soft, this smooth, this enticing?

  She covered her chest with her arms as she looked around to find something else to hide her perfectly rounded tits.

  “Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!” She looked behind herself and grabbed a paper towel from a holder.

  Instead of ripping off one towel, she did several pirouettes to wrap the top portion of her body with the paper products. In one of her twirls, she picked up a pan and held it in the air while she gripped the towels close to her body.

  Jace liked seeing her ready to defend herself. He had to show her that he wouldn’t hurt her. If he could muster enough strength to do so, he would have smiled. For now, he raised his hand in front of her.

  “Take it easy. I’m supposed to be here.” Jace spoke in a low tone to keep her calm.

  “I didn’t think anyone else would be here.” She pushed some stray hairs from her face. “The crew left hours ago.” She looked out of breath once she mummified herself in a cocoon of flowery towels.

  If he were an unscrupulous man, he could get through those towels and her panties. Shit, he had said he didn’t want anyone associated with this show, especially the lead submissive. What the hell was wrong with him? Had he been that hard up? No, this woman looked that damn good.

  “This is my second time meeting you, and I still don’t know your name. Who are you?” Jace asked. He wanted to know this force of nature’s
name above anything else.

  “Who are you?” She pointed to him with the pan. “Are you stalking me? The last group that left said I would have the house to myself. What is a builder doing here?”

  Great. She already felt comfortable enough to claim his house as her own. He would have to snap her out of that line of thinking.

  “This is the house where the show is being filmed temporarily. You won’t be here that long. Let me ask again. What is your name?” He hoped his tone registered his true feelings.

  Jace had had a rough day. He wanted to come home, get a quick shower, and take a long nap. Although he found this woman stunning, he didn’t have time to verbally spar with her like before.

  She shifted her weight back and forth before turning off the music. She started to head toward him, but the towels remained tethered to the holder. She ripped off her paper dress from the roll and waddled toward him. “Taren Kerrigan.” She extended her free hand to him while still keeping the pan in her other hand. “I’m part of the show. How are you involved in all this? Are you a contestant?”

  When Jace touched her hand, he felt something he hadn’t in years. The softness of it reminded him of the supplest leather from one of his favorite floggers. She stared at him unafraid. If he still trained submissives, she would be a good one. He like subs who knew what they wanted—no balking, not waffling.

  Jace didn’t want to lie to her. So he didn’t. “What are you doing up so late?” Avoiding her question would buy him some time.

  “I was cleaning up. I do that when I’m nervous.” She put her hand on the robe on the counter.

  When she tugged it, Jace leaned on it harder, unwilling to let it or her go. He liked having her off balance.

  “How long have you been here in—” He’d almost let it slip and said his home. “How long have you been here?”

  “Since Monday.” She pulled on her robe again. “Ananda thought it would be better to get me here now before anyone else shows up. This is an absolutely beautiful place. I would love to live here.”

  Her admission weakened him enough to relax his hold on her robe. At that moment, she pulled it from the counter, turned her back on him, and slipped it over her body. To do so, she finally put the pan on the counter. She didn’t bother removing the paper towel dress or picking up her weapon again.

  Taren turned back to him. “Are you here checking on the house?”

  He nodded. “In a manner of speaking.” He looked over his shoulder. “Have they emptied out the bedrooms?”

  Taren held her robe together at the top by her neck and at the bottom in front of her thighs. Damn, did she think he wanted to take her? Okay, so he did. He didn’t want her thinking that though.

  “Yes, except for the room I’m staying in,” she said.

  His room, he thought.

  “You probably wouldn’t want to be in those rooms anyway. They’ve taken down the doors and put up curtains.”

  Jace didn’t remember agreeing to that. “Did they leave your door up?”

  Taren fisted her hold on her robe even tighter. “Yes.” She moved closer to the pan again.

  Too exhausted to defend his character, Jace retreated. He took a couple of steps back toward the living room where he’d left his suitcase. “I’m tired. I’ll check the guesthouse and see if that’s been touched.” He turned to leave when her voice stopped him.

  “Wait. You didn’t tell me your name.”

  He turned back to her. “Jace.” He would leave out his last name.

  She didn’t need to know. Actually he didn’t want her asking about his association with Eagan. If she wanted to do this show, then she probably knew about the first show. She would know about Eagan Morton.

  “Nice.” She smiled harder. The expression lit up her entire face.

  A silence existed between them as they stared at each other. Jace wanted to know more about this woman. Why would someone so cute want to do something this depraved?

  The idea of going to bed had a less salacious connotation to him, which meant that he truly must be tired. He imagined lying in his bed next to her, but only sleeping. He hadn’t done that in a long, long time, not since Michelle. He missed having a woman in his arms. He would even take one wearing paper towels.

  Taren pushed the pots on the counter closer to the sink. “I’ll leave all this alone and head to bed myself.”

  His bedroom. Her naked body in his bedroom. Now blood started pumping in his lower region. This woman had the gift to raise the dead.

  “Good night, Taren. I’ll see you in the morning.” Jace picked up his suitcase and headed out back.

  “Good night, Jace.” Her light voice ushered him toward the back door. “Hey, if you get up early enough, I can make you breakfast.”

  Jace looked at her in the dimly lit living room.

  “I tend to cook a lot when I’m nervous.” She chuckled and slid her hand over her hair.

  She must have had a problem with what she felt. Jace noticed that when she touched her hair, she looked like she cursed under her breath, then tried tucking stray strands behind her ears. Even as a mess, she still looked sexy.

  “Don’t concern yourself about me and breakfast. I’ll be fine.” Considering he had set this woman up to meet some rough Doms and Dommes pretty soon, he didn’t need any of her kindness clouding his past judgment.

  He opened the door to the backyard and made sure to lock it behind himself. As he walked over to the guesthouse, he listened to the soothing nightly noises around him. If he concentrated on the crickets creaking and frogs croaking, he wouldn’t be tempted to think about Taren’s full lips or her juicy ass.

  No. Jace had to think of her as the enemy. She would be a casualty of this war. If his plan worked, she would be walking away from this experience, and, perhaps, taking Ananda and Eagan with her.

  Jace unlocked the door to the guesthouse and turned on the light. As promised, his full bedroom set had been moved to the guesthouse along with all of his clothes and toiletries. He closed the door and locked it. He would need a long, cold shower to get Taren off his mind.

  He had gone crazy over seeing her picture. The real thing proved to be more than he could handle.

  ****

  Taren dove through her suitcases, knowing full well that she hadn’t packed her trusty vibrator, but she definitely needed it. If she had known that the guy who had both excited her and pissed her off would have walked in on her half-naked dance party, she would have worn better panties.

  Each time she moved, she heard the crinkling of the paper towel wrap dress under her robe, the same robe Jace didn’t want to give up to her. He probably didn’t think she’d noticed that each time she’d pulled on it, he gripped it harder.

  When she’d stood close to Jace, his manly scent nearly dropped her to her knees. His earthy aroma and solid stature had her toes curling.

  She made sure to lock the door even though a surprise visit in her room would have been welcomed. She noticed Jace’s incredible height first. At her petite frame, everyone looked immense to her. His tallness along with his broad shoulders and big hands reminded her of a real man.

  The cleft in his chin gave his face even more charm and sex appeal. His strong jaw line, covered in a slight sandpaper grit, complemented his face well. Those mesmerizing blue eyes and his full, kissable lips had her imagining scenarios where he had her on the counter in the kitchen, sliding in and out of her like he owned her.

  She had no idea if he participated in the lifestyle. He probably didn’t as a builder. Or maybe he did. Maybe this handsome man with sandy blond hair had a wild side. Even with heavy bags under his eyes, he still looked powerful.

  Taren turned off the light in the bedroom and went to the window. She pushed one of the blinds slats up to peek into the backyard at the guesthouse. She saw the light on and some movement through the blinds. She didn’t know what she expected to see. She wanted to know more of this Jace fellow.

  Pretty soon he extinguished
the lights in the guesthouse. The sounds of crickets penetrated through the windows as she retired to the gigantic bed in the dark and moody room. She had to change that while she stayed in the home.

  The next morning came faster than she had expected, especially since she didn’t get much sleep during the night. Taren kept thinking about man in the guesthouse, the man who surprised her, the one who filled her head with fantasies. Her dreams featured Jace being firm yet kind, honest yet mysterious. When she’d awakened, Taren found her hand nestled between her thighs.

  “Stop it,” she told herself. “Remember the contract.”

  When Ananda had sat Taren down to go over the clauses of the contract, she’d made sure to point out the one about fraternizing with the crew and contestants. She couldn’t do it. If she did, the show would end and she would have to pay a lot of money in penalties, money she didn’t have as a temp.

  Taren hadn’t questioned Ananda on the clause. She’d wanted to ask why a woman who had gone through a reality TV show and made it obvious that she’d slept with Eagan would want her to avoid that same scenario. Instead, Taren had signed the contract and professed her love for the show.

  After a quick shower and throwing on denim cutoff shorts and a short-sleeved shirt, Taren went to the kitchen. No matter how many times she’d walked through this house, she always looked around in awe.

  The beautiful and exotic sand-colored tile that met her bare feet as she walked out the bedroom stunned her each time she moved over it. It looked too expensive for her to even touch with shoes. She let the cool material lower her body temperature as she headed to the kitchen.

  The openness of the rooms caught her attention next. Ananda had told her that most of the filming would be happening in the living room. The place looked big enough to hold a football team.

  Taren stepped over the lighting cords strewn across the floor. The black cables looked like snakes in slumber. She dare not disturb anything in the room.

  Although not pure white, the color scheme of the room looked like an eggshell color. The walls and trim all had an off-white appearance that made the room seem more open than before. Taren had seen the home fully furnished. She couldn’t wait to see the new furniture to make it looked lived-in again.