“It is the most beautiful view,” he says quietly from beside me.
When I look over at him, I realize he was looking at me when he said that. “You’re not even looking out the window,” I say with a raised eyebrow.
“I was talking about you.” He steps toward me and cups my cheek in his warm palm, his thumb traces my cheekbone. “Why is the forbidden always the most enticing?” he whispers so softly I almost miss it.
“I’m not forbidden.” I step close enough to him that I have to tilt my head back to keep eye contact.
I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. His hand ghosts down my face and over my jaw to my throat. He wraps his hand loosely around it and grazes his lips over mine. The contact is so light and brief, I wonder if I imagined it.
“That’s where you are so wrong, Claire.” He steps back and pulls his hand away. I feel the loss of his warmth when a chill runs down my body. He moves to his desk and opens a drawer before reaching in and pressing a button. “I’m about to show you something that my sisters don’t even know about. I trust you’ll be discrete.”
“Of course.”
“Okay.” He walks toward one of his bookcases and pulls it away from the wall. “I have a server room back here where I do my more questionable work.”
We step into a dark room with racks of computer equipment. It’s loud and hot as we walk down a little corridor to a plain desk with several monitors all over the place. Griff walks over to a filing cabinet and punches in a code on the keypad. He opens a drawer and pulls out a small box.
“This is proprietary technology for a company I’m starting with Con. It’s a tiny camera that can be attached to clothing or, in your case, a bag.”
“What’s the name of the company going to be called?” I take the camera that is smaller than my pinky nail. “Tools for Psychos? A one-stop shop for all your stalker needs.”
“Tsarina has jokes,” he says drily as he takes it back from me. “I’ll put it on your sweater, so you know how to attach it.”
I draw a quick breath as his knuckles lightly graze my chest. As if he can sense my desire, he moves toward me, filling the space around my body with his. He’s not the biggest man I know, but his presence fills the small room.
“It’s magnetic, so you just have to line it up. It is water resistant, and the case is titanium so it’s strong, don’t worry about beating it up. Give me your phone, and I’ll set up the program that you can control everything with. I’m thinking you’ll be able to put the bag somewhere that you can record your class. No one will know.” He tests the hold of the magnets on my shirt before stepping back.
He takes my unlocked phone and plugs it into one of his computers. I look around the room while he starts downloading the program onto my phone. Everything is neat and orderly, even the pens are lined up perfectly. I reach down and move one, so it’s just a little out of line with the notebook beside it, smirking to myself at the possibility of causing even just a tiny bit of chaos.
I turn around and gasp. Griff is standing right behind me. I don’t know how I missed him moving towards me. He sets my phone down and puts both hands on the desk on either side of me, pinning me between them.
“I’m very particular about where my things go on my desk, Tsarina,” he says in a low purr. “Bad girls get disciplined.”
I know exactly what I’m doing when I reach behind me and swipe a pile of papers onto the floor. “Oops,” I say insincerely.
His entire demeanor changes; his eyes darken, and the lines of his face sharpen, making him look stern and mature and so sexy I’m ready to strip right here. His hands circle my waist firmly, and he spins me around. He steps forward, pressing me between his front and the desk.
His hands move up under my sweater causing goosebumps to follow in their wake. His lips leave a wet trail from my bare shoulder up the side of my neck to the hollow below my ear. My head falls back against his shoulder as he pushes my bra up and over my breasts. He pinches my nipples hard, causing a wave of heat to travel from my head straight to my pussy. He remembers exactly how I love to be touched.
“Good girls get rewarded,” he whispers in my ear. “Do you want to be a good girl, Tsarina?”
“Yes,” I whisper back, rubbing my ass against his very obvious erection.
“Good.” He steps back. “Pick up the papers and straighten my pen.”
I turn, annoyed as fuck, but when I look up at him some part of me inexplicably wants to obey him. It’s a deep desire to please him, and in this moment, it’s beyond my comprehension as to why I feel like this. I break eye contact first and bend down to pick up the papers I dropped. I straighten the pile and set them back where they were before fixing the pen’s position.
“Turn around.”
I follow his directions wordlessly.
“Bend over the desk.”
I do as I’m told, and he slides his foot between mine, spreading my legs apart. He pushes my sweater up my back and kisses a line down my spine. He reaches around and unbuttons my jeans. I take a shuddering breath as one of his hands slips inside my jeans and runs over my panties, which are already wet for him. He teases me with several light strokes.
Right as his finger slips under the side of them, my phone vibrates on the desk, startling both of us. We look at it at the same time and see Con’s name on the screen.
“Fuck!” Griff pulls his hand out of my pants and leaves the room so fast my head spins.
I fix my bra and button my jeans before looking at Con’s text. He wants me to pick up ice cream for Lilith on my way home. Fucking terrible timing. I walk out of Griff’s little bat cave and find him pouring a glass of whiskey.
“We can’t do that again,” he says before tossing the entire glass back and pouring another.
“Right,” I say coldly. I’m not going to beg, no matter how much I crave his touch. I walk out of his office without looking back.
4
GRIFF
I watch Claire walk out the door with a trail of ice following her. She’s got her shields back up at my rejection. It’s better this way. I know how she operates. Her cold shell will thicken back up and hide her burning, passionate heart from me.
I let myself think about how amusing it was to watch her poke at me in order to get a reaction. How fucking intoxicating it was to watch her internal battle with wanting to obey me and wanting to throw me the finger. I generally want submission to come freely, but having to work for it from her might be fun.
She felt exactly how I remembered under my hands tonight, maybe better. How soft her skin is on the small of her back. Her adorable as fuck freckle right above her left ass cheek. The whimpers she makes when I pinch her nipples.
Fuck.
I pour myself another shot of whiskey and stand at the window. My forehead leans against the cool glass, looking down the streets seven hundred feet below me. I wonder how she’s getting home. She said she gave Marco the night off. I start to worry about her when I remember she was still wearing the camera.
I pull out my phone and hesitate on the app linked to the camera. It’s an invasion of privacy. It’s unethical. It’s a bit psycho. My thumb hovers for a second, but, fuck it, I’m already in too deep. Might as well jump off the deep end. I activate the camera.
My phone fills the view of the back of a cab. The driver is talking on the phone in another language, and Claire is texting with Con. She shifts, and her hair covers the camera.
I close out the app. Now that I know she’s safe in a cab and on her way home, I let out a sigh. I’m really wishing I had someone to talk to about this right now. For obvious reasons, Con is out, and I don’t want to put Lilith in a compromising position by opening up about it with her. Levi can’t keep a secret to save his soul.
My head snaps up when I hear a knock on my door. Gwen pokes her head in and smiles at me.
“Why am I not surprised you are here late on a Friday night?” she asks as she walks over to my desk and sits down in one
of the chairs in front of it.
“I actually wasn’t working.” I weigh whether I should confide in her and how much to divulge if I do. She and I are the closest in age among all our siblings, and I trust her completely.
“Oh?” Her brow creases as she notices the way I’m gripping my glass. “Whoa. Sit your ass down and spill it.”
“I had dinner with Claire.”
Almost had her for dinner, actually.
“I see.” She waits for me to continue.
“I’m helping with her something, and we came back afterward, so I could give her something to help with it.”
“That’s,” she narrows her eyes, “incredibly vague.”
“Yes.” I communicate everything I need to with that one word answer.
Gwen nods, understanding immediately that I won’t be divulging Claire’s secrets. “Fair enough.”
“Don’t judge me.” My need to make my family proud and not disappoint them comes to the surface.
“As your big sister, it is my job to judge you,” she says with a smile, “but I’ll love you regardless.”
“I kissed her.”
Her eyes widen in surprise, and I decide to go all in.
“We slept together the night of Con and Lilith’s wedding.”
She pulls out her phone and starts texting something, her lips rolled into her teeth.
“What are you doing?” I ask, annoyed.
“Googling caskets.” She looks up at me barely holding her laughter back. “Because when Connor finds out, he’s gonna kill you.”
I glare at her, but at the same time, she’s not wrong.
“Oh God,” she catches her breath, “seriously though. Sleeping with your best friend’s little sister? I did not see that coming. I love Claire, you know that.”
I nod in acknowledgment. “Con actually texted her before things went too far. It was a bucket of ice that we both needed.”
A moment of quiet hangs between us as we study each other.
“Do you like each other, or is this just a physical thing?” She watches me think for a moment, knowing I won’t answer her out loud. “I ask because I know you. You love Connor and Levi more than friends. You three are brothers and have been since you were babies. You don’t want to risk ruining that unless you are ready to go all in. Make sure that it is real. That it is deep. That it is true. Make sure you are ready to face the consequences, regardless of what you end up doing moving forward. Because at the end of the day, Connor will choose his sister over you, and you could end up with nothing.”
I give another nod before dropping my head to my hands and applying pressure to my temples. She stands and walks over to me, places a kiss on my head and rubs my back. I listen to her heels click across my floor as she walks to the door.
“Griff,” she says from the doorway, “you could also end up with everything you deserve. I can see it in your face how much you care.” With that last statement, she closes the door behind her with a quiet click.
After sitting in silence for a few minutes, I turn on our twenty-four hour news channel for background noise. It’s clear I won’t be able to turn my mind off, so I might as well channel my energy into something productive. I open the bottom drawer of my desk and pull out the books I have on Multiple Sclerosis.
Claire is mad at me right now, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m the only person aside from her doctors who knows about her condition. I’m going to learn every fucking thing there is to know, so I can support her through this. I already hacked her records to make sure there wasn’t anything she was holding back, and I can’t lie, my chest warmed when I realized she trusted me with everything she knows.
Not that she would freely give that trust knowing I violated her privacy and a slew of laws to ensure I know everything. Her anger wouldn’t change anything though. I’ll go to any extreme to protect and support the people I care about.
I haven’t seen Claire in a couple of weeks, not since the night in my office. I had to cancel our Friday night dinner the following week for an unexpected meeting in our Tokyo office. Today she sent a text that her best friend was dragging her to some club to see her boyfriend perform.
It’s just as well. I need to spend some time at Seven, the club I own with Grant, a friend who graduated from the same prep school as me a few years before me. He and his friends are a lot like Con, Lev, and me, keeping their hands in many different pots.
Grant and I opened Seven as a means to an end. The Manhattan club scene is constantly changing, and we wanted ours to stand the test of time. It’s a tri-level club. Ground level is our burlesque club with performances six days a week. On Sundays, we host a drag show brunch that quickly became our most popular event.
The floor below holds our dungeon. You have to be a member, have filled out a background check, and signed an extensive non-disclosure agreement. The clientele that comes down to entertain their most wicked desires ranges from Saudi princes to politicians to movie stars. Membership is expensive and exclusive, but down there you can be yourself. If you are the CEO of a Fortune 500 company who wants to be led around by leash and collar, you are safe to do so there. Any fantasy can be fulfilled, so long as consent is freely given and boundaries are explicitly negotiated. We have in-house attorneys overseeing operations.
The level below the dungeon houses a UFC-style fighting ring where we hold unsanctioned underground fights every two weeks. It is illegal, but we run it ethically and cleanly. The dungeon and the fight club do serve a greater purpose for Grant and me. We have an incredible amount of leverage over some of the most powerful people on the planet, and we aren’t above using it to our advantage.
People give you their secrets when they feel comfortable. It’s a lesson I learned early on in life watching my sisters. If you create an environment that is safe against the outside but allows direct access inside, you can sit back and observe. Those observations can be sculpted into knowledge and thus power. I got away with so much because I held all my sisters’ secrets. Truthfully, I never would have thrown any of them under the bus, but the threat did allow me coverage for the weekends I would sneak away into the city.
I was fifteen the first time I found my way into a BDSM dungeon. It was a shady place, dirty and unsafe, but back before I knew any better. I fell in love with the lifestyle. I’ve always felt a little different. A little darker, which is impressive when your best friend is violent-tempered Russian. The drive to dominate everyone and everything in my life is so strong. I’m sure you could psychoanalyze that it has to do with being the youngest of five with only sisters. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter why I’m like this because I’ve found my niche, and I like it here.
I walk into the lobby of Seven and head upstairs for the office level. Grant has an office there, as do I, in addition to our in-house attorneys and the managers of each level. I stop and knock on Grant’s door, entering when I hear him say to come in.
“Hey,” he stands, and we smack hands sideways, “I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“I know. Things at NNC are keeping me busy. We’re acquiring some affiliates in Asia and then some newspapers out west. I spent last week in San Francisco and Tokyo.”
“Well, the good news is that things are running smooth as fuck here.” He leans back in his chair and locks his fingers behind his head.
“Is there bad news?”
“Yeah, an old friend of mine is in some trouble. I might have to be scarce for a while.”
“Anything you need help with?”
“Not at the moment, but I’ll definitely let you know if there is something.” He hands me a sheet of paper. “Here are the public scenes tonight down in the dungeon. Fire and electro play with Donovan and Mara.”
“Sounds good. Those two always put on a good show.”
“From our reservations list, it looks like we’ll be at capacity.” He glances down as his phone starts ringing. “I need to grab this,” he says apologetically.
I no
d and wave goodbye before walking across the hall to my office. I flip the TV over to NNC and pull out some paperwork from Con regarding our tech startup. I work for a few hours until Grant comes in with some takeout. We sit around and catch up on life outside of work until the doors open downstairs.
I’m chatting with one of our bartenders when I hear the un-fucking-mistakable southern accented voice of Friday Cunningham, Claire’s best friend. I step back into the shadows, hoping that they didn’t see me. It’s not a big secret that I own this place, but it’s also not something widely known. In fact, I don’t think Claire even knows.
They walk into view, strolling up to the bar. Claire is wearing a black leather dress that laces up the sides and fits like a second skin. I can’t see her legs, but I’m guessing she’s wearing stilettos because she is about five inches taller than usual. Her hair is pulled back tight into a sleek ponytail, highlighting her gorgeous face. As usual, she’s wearing very little makeup, although she did put on a dark red lipstick.
I clench my jaw so hard I think my teeth might crack when two men approach them at the bar. Luckily we have rules regarding respectful behavior in here, so the girls won’t be harassed. I should just go back up to my office and pretend I never saw them.
I’ve almost convinced myself to do that when I notice Jacob Harrington-Wells stroll through the door. He’s our one problem client, and honestly, if it weren’t for all the secrets he spills when he drinks, we would have barred him from the dungeon a long time ago. I see his predatory gaze land on the girls as he zeroes in on them like fresh meat.
My feet are moving before I can even think. “Claire,” I say as I stalk toward her.
“Hey babe,” Donovan says as he wraps an arm around Friday. He meets my eyes in a silent acknowledgment of keeping them from Jacob. She turns into his arms, and I’ve never been more grateful for his presence.
“Griff,” Claire’s face remains neutral, but her eyes gave away her surprise when I said her name out of nowhere. “What are you doing here?”
Surrender (The Titans of Founder's Ridge Book 3) Page 3
