by Claire Adams
"We understand your feelings for Kayla are strong, but you can't let it interfere with your business decisions. Throwing out all the work Keith has done so far would be incredibly expensive, and buying out a model's contract from a different company is a huge waste of company resources." My CFO, Steve, had the nerve to back him up. Now that was two assholes I had to fire.
"I've shown you plenty of other models that will work for a much cheaper rate and have the availability we need. Just pick one of them and let's move on," Keith said with a tired sigh.
"I don't want another girl. I only want Kayla." I knew I sounded like a pouting child, but I didn't care. She was the love of my life, and if she wanted a big paying modeling career, then that's what I was going to give her.
"Kayla is a sweet girl, but you're letting her make you irrational." Angela just had to put in her two cents worth, too. Fuck. Had everybody in this damn company turned against me? Putting her hand on mine from across the conference table, she said to me softly, "This isn't like you. What do your business instincts tell you?"
I pressed my hands to my eyes, trying to clear my head. My staff was filled with intelligent people whose opinions I'd always been able to rely on. If they were all telling me I needed to gain some perspective on this situation, maybe they were right; but how could I? Try as I might, I couldn't separate the feelings of my heart from the thoughts in my mind.
Slamming my palms against the table, I said adamantly, "This is the right decision. I know you all think it's just because I love her and I want her back, but that's not it.
“Kayla is a damn good model and beautiful as hell. The issue of Speed Magazine with her on the cover was the biggest selling month to-date, and the All-American has brought in better sales numbers for the short time it's been on the market than any other bike we've released.
“That's not because I love her and it has nothing to do with our break-up and the fact that I want her back. That's a testament to her as a high-end model. She is professional, hardworking, and has that ‘it factor’ that gives her massive appeal among the public.
“We'd be fools not to hire her as the face of our company, even if it means paying huge amounts of money to buy out her contract at R.E.B. Whatever it takes to make her happy is what we're going to do."
"So you want everyone here to turn this company upside down to make your ex-girlfriend a star just so you can win her back?" Keith sounded annoyed, and it took all my effort not to punch him out.
"No, I expect my hired employees to follow the directives given to them by me as the CEO and owner of this company, and that directive is to do whatever it takes to secure the model of my choosing as the center of a new advertising campaign. We've launched plenty of them in the past, and this one is no different. So, make it happen."
"Only this time, we're not talking about some ingénue we can hire for cheap. You want me to find your missing girlfriend and coerce her with bribes of money and fame until she finally accepts the job in hopes that she'll come back to you."
"No. Okay, yes. There is a part of me that hopes that I can win back her love if she is working for this company, but that's not all of it. I really do want her to be the face of our ad campaign.
“I think she'll do the best job of any model I've seen, and if securing her to take the job means you have to promise her that she'll have absolutely no contact with me, then that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. I want her for the job weather she ever talks to me again or not."
"Really? So, if she says she'll only take the job if you are outside the building anytime she's around, then you still want me to make the offer?" Keith asked, looking flabbergasted.
"Yes. I'd rather she got the job of her dreams and was happy, then to have her come back to me and be miserable," I said honestly.
Angela blinked in surprise. "You really do love her, don't you?"
"You know I do. You saw me when I was drunk off my ass the last time we were broke up. In fact, you were the one who encouraged me to commit to her," I shot back at her.
"I know, but I thought you were in love with her the way men usually love a woman: selfishly with their own agenda first on their mind. I figured you liked having her around because she made you feel good; I didn't realize you loved her enough to want her to be happy even if it meant you had to sacrifice your own selfish desires."
"Well, when you put it that way, neither did I," I said, and a little smile of chagrin curled the corners of my mouth.
"Look, I don't know about any of that psychobabble. All I know is I love Kayla and I want her to be happy. She wants to be an international modeling star, and that's what I'm going to make sure she gets.
“If she comes back to me, all the better. I'll treat her right and never let her go again. If she never wants to see me again, then I guess I've gotten what I deserve. As long as she gets what she deserves, and that's being a modeling star."
"Well then, there's only thing left to do," Keith said with a grin. "I've got to secure that modeling deal."
Steve was smiling, too, as he said, "Angela, get hold of Miss Brandt on the phone. Tell her we want to meet in a public location of her choosing without Mr. Colson in attendance. Do whatever it takes to get her there."
"Yes, sir." Angela smiled and gave me a little wink. "Don't worry, Ethan, true love conquers all. We'll get her for you."
It felt good to hear that, but it was a promise she couldn't keep. Days went by and no one was able to locate Kayla. Her agent hadn't seen her, nor had her lawyer, nor even the people at R.E.B. It was like she had completely disappeared off the face of the earth.
"You sure you haven't seen her, Mrs. Brandt?" my voice was practically pleading as I spoke to her mother over the phone.
"You know I'm grateful for your help with Tommy, and I think you're a terrific man, but my loyalty has to be to my daughter," she said regretfully, and I felt my heart fall. Then she said something that made me sit up straight. "You must have had heartaches before. Have you ever stopped by to visit your ex, Gwyneth Manzranni?"
"How would you know about her?" I was instantly suspicious.
"Well, you know ex-girlfriends sometimes talk. In fact, if I was in a city all alone, looking for a place to stay, I might team up with someone I had an ex in common with; but I honestly can't tell you a word about where Kayla might be staying. She's my daughter, and I would never betray her trust."
"No, of course not. Sorry you couldn't help, Mrs. Brandt." I was grinning widely.
It was late at night after a long day at work and I knew I should wait until morning to go talk to her, but I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. So, I threw on my jeans, boots, and my leather jacket over my white tee-shirt and hopped on my bike. It was a racing motorcycle and the fastest thing in my garage.
Gwyneth lived across the city up on the hills overlooking the ocean, but I got there in a matter of minutes. I was so excited; I was out of breath as I rang the doorbell. I caught my reflection in the window and quickly ran my fingers through my short-cropped hair, trying to clean up my appearance.
I heard the sound of yapping dogs as someone approached and as I heard the locks being turned. I tried to think of exactly what I could say to Gwyneth to get her tell me where Kayla was. To my surprise, it was wasn't Gwynn who opened the door, but Kayla herself.
She looked absolutely stunning, with no make-up on her freshly washed face. Her blonde hair was pulled back into the braids she liked to sleep in, and she was wearing a short, white, silk nightgown beneath a matching robe with her feet bare. I thought I'd never seen a more beautiful sight in my entire life and I longed to pull her into my arms and kiss her.
"Ethan! What are you doing here?" she gasped in surprise. For just a moment, her eyes flew open wide and her pupils dilated, like she was happy to see me, too; but it only lasted for a fraction of a second before they narrowed into a suspicious frown. "How did you find me? Did my mother talk? I'll kill her."
"Nobody talked. I actually just came here to ta
lk to Gwynn."
"Well, she's not here, so you can leave." Was that a look of disappointment on Kayla's lovely face?
"The only thing I wanted to talk to her about was if she knew if you were alright."
"I'm fine. I quit R.E.B. Jay is such a sleaze, he wouldn't stop hitting on me; but that doesn't mean I'm coming back to you. I have my career to think about, and I won't just give up on my ambitions to lay around living off of your money."
"I know. I respect that. Please, can I come in? I just want to talk for a little while."
She hesitated for a moment, so I gave her my best puppy-dog eyes, and she finally let me in.
"You can only stay for a few minutes," she warned as I followed her into the kitchen.
"Is Gwyneth coming home soon?" I guessed, but she shook her head.
"No. She's moved to New York city with Vick, so I'm leasing the place for a month until I figure out more permanent arrangements."
"So, you're positive you don't want to move back in with me." I couldn't keep the hurt out of my voice.
"One day, when we get married, we can buy a place together that is all ours; but until then, I need some space of my own. I need to be independent and live within my own financial means."
"You still want to marry me one day?" All my hope had been restored.
"Of course, I do. We're committed to each other, and I still love you with all my heart. I just needed some space to get my priorities straight, and I figured you needed some perspective, too. Now that we have that, we can start talking about dating again."
"I'd like that. I'd like that a lot," I said and meant it. I moved in to kiss her, and when our lips met, it was even better than I remembered it being. She tasted so sweet and her lips were so soft, like the petals of a delicate flower. I wanted to make love to her right then, but we had more important things to discuss. "So, what are your conditions for dating? I'll do anything you want."
"I like the way things were. You live at your place, and I'll live at mine. We'll each work our separate jobs during the day and then meet up at night. Sometimes you can sleep over at my place, and sometimes I can sleep over at yours, and when we're both ready, we can make the step of moving in together and getting married."
"What if we worked together?" I asked with a mischievous grin, and she looked startled.
"I'm a model. I'm not going to take a job as an office secretary or steal some executive’s position based on nepotism."
"No, of course not; but what if Speed Motorcycles hired you to model for us again?"
"I already posed for the cover once. I know your magazine hires a new girl every month."
"Yeah, but now we want to hire just one girl to be the face of a whole new advertising campaign. Billboards, magazine layouts, television commercials. Everything you've ever wanted. I figured we could shoot pictures for the bike I'm designing for Tommy in Milan, and I want to make a version of the All-American called The Tour that we photograph in France and Germany. It will require that you go on an extended trip across Europe, but as CEO of the company, I would oversee the entire project and travel with you."
"Are you serious?" Kayla's bright-blue eyes lit up with excitement.
"Absolutely. I had Keith draw up contracts and Steve is prepared to cut you a check for any amount you want to get you to take the job. We'll let you have any bike in our fleet to keep, pay your travel expenses, and give you a monthly salary, plus bonuses.
“It's the deal of a lifetime and worthy of a top model. I want that model to be you, Kayla. It will make you the household name you've always wanted to be."
She looked so happy, I thought she was certain to say yes, but then she surprised me by shaking her head no.
"I would be the girlfriend of the owner who got handed a job she didn't deserve."
"But you do deserve it. You're beautiful, talented, and nobody is better at modeling bikes than you are."
"Thanks, but others aren't going to see it that way. Everybody knows Speed Magazine has a certain way of advertising. You're famous for picking a new ingénue every month and placing her on the cover. If you changed that now and made me the face of your company, everyone would know you were doing it for me."
"So what? I love my girl, and I don't care if the whole world knows it. I'm willing to turn my company upside down and change everything about it if it makes you happy. Hell, I'll sell the whole damn thing and hand you all the cash if you want it; you can use it to start your own modeling company."
"Thanks, but that's not necessary," Kayla giggled at me. "I actually have a modeling job and it's everything I ever wanted."
"What? Why didn't you say so? Tell me all about it." I was so happy for her; I could feel my heart ready to burst.
"It's for a new fashion line that Gwyneth has created. I fly out to New York next week to start shooting the catalog. There'll be a web page, magazine ads, billboards, and television commercials. I'll be shooting in Paris, Prague, Nuremberg, and Milan. It's the dream job I've always wanted."
"That's great. I'm so happy for you, and I couldn't be more proud of you. I knew you could do it. When do you leave?"
"I fly to New York Friday for a week, and then it's off to Europe for the next six weeks."
"Wow. That's a long time. I'm really going to miss you. Can we spend every night together until then? It might be enough to hold me over while you're gone; although I can't promise I won't fly to Germany to visit you while you're there."
"No," she said simply and I felt my heart break. Then she smiled and said, "Because I'm not going."
"What do you mean you're not going? You have to. This is the job you've always wanted."
"Yes, but when I chose career over love, you proved to me that you'd do anything to make me happy. Now, I want to do the same for you. I'm choosing love over career. I'm calling Gwyneth first thing tomorrow and telling her I can't take the job. I'm going to be the model for Speed Motorcycles, instead."
"Are you sure? I just want you to be happy. That's all I care about."
"I know, and that's why I know I want to be with you. I can get a modeling career anywhere. Hell, I've had two offers for international jobs this week alone. But where else am I going to find a man who loves me as much as you do?"
We kissed then, long and deep. When we broke apart for air, I still had a burning question. "So why wait until tomorrow to call her?"
Kayla grinned at me and said, "Because tonight, I'm spending the whole evening making love to my boyfriend."
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Kayla
Ethan grabbed me hard and pulled me tightly against his muscular chest. I could feel the strength of his pectorals rippling as his abs tightened into that washboard stomach I loved to touch.
I threw myself into his embrace, melting into his kiss as his mouth overtook mine with a hunger that could not be quenched. God, it felt good to be back in his arms again. I had missed this so much; missed him so much.
He hoisted me into the air with his strong hands and set me on the kitchen counter. Dressed in nothing but a silk nightie with matching panties and a thin, silk robe, I could feel the cool granite on my bare thighs and it made me shiver. Ethan covered my body with hot kisses and I was instantly warmed.
"Let's play, master," I said to him with a naughty smile, and he gave me a wicked grin in return.
"Take off your robe," he commanded. I did as I'd been told, handing it to him with a sexy wink.
"Good girl. Now put your hands behind your back," he commanded, and again I obeyed. Taking the sash from my robe, he bound my wrists behind my back with a tight knot. Then he folded the thin, silk robe into a blindfold and tied it around my eyes, casting me into complete darkness.
"Can you see anything?" he asked. I noticed how deep and husky his voice had become.
"No, master," I replied, feeling a thrill of sexual excitement over the taboo game.
"Good. Let's see what you can feel." I heard the sound of cupboards and drawers being opened and
closed and various items being set on the granite counter beside me, but I had no idea what he could possibly be preparing.
"Let's play a game. Can you tell me what this is?" Ethan's voice asked me and I heard the distinct sound of scissors opening and closing.
"Good girl. That's right," he praised me when I gave him the correct answer. Then I felt the sensation of him cutting my silk nightie off my body, leaving me vulnerable and exposed, with nothing but a slight pair of white silk panties to cover my nakedness.
"Now, what's this?" his husky voice asked, and I felt a tickling sensation as something light brushed against my bare flesh, making my skin prickle with sensual pleasure. It took several guesses as the item caressed across my breasts, down my torso, and back up again to tickle my nipples before I came up with the right answer.
"A basting brush?"
"Yes. That's right. Good girl. That one was a little tougher. Let's see if I can give you something easier."
I heard a small clicking sound, and suddenly the painful sensation of a plastic clip being applied to my left nipple made me recoil and cry out in pain. Writhing on the countertop, I tried to escape the pain, but there was nowhere I could go and slowly I began to acclimate to it.
I knew that I could use my safe word and Ethan would remove it immediately, but I noticed a strange sort of pleasure replacing the painful pinching sensation. It radiated from my nipple all the way to my pussy, which was now wet with sexual pleasure. The pain was turning me on and I wanted more.
I drew in a breath as he applied a second clip to my right nipple. This time, I was prepared for the shock of pain and didn't cry out, but it didn't make it hurt any less. The pleasure radiating in my most intimate folds, however, reacted just as strongly and I began to squirm in my wet panties, eager for more.
"What's the matter? Getting uncomfortable?" Ethan asked, misunderstanding my squirming. He removed the clips and said soothingly "Let's see if I can make you feel better."
Suddenly, I felt the sensation of two ice-cubes being applied to my sore nipples, one on each breast. I gasped at the freezing cold pain of it, but as I grew used to it, I luxuriated in the numbing feel.
