Only to wake up and find out someone had gone shopping. Evidently she’d been asleep longer than she intended—or maybe he was just speedy with his platinum gold card. Racks on wheels like they used in hotels were lined up at the foot of the bed bearing a ridiculous array of shimmery fine things that must have cost a fortune. Boxes of shoes. More flat lingerie boxes.
Stunned, she sat there gaping, glad he’d at least popped in like the fairy godmother and then left again so she could try to soak it all in without an audience. Running her fingers over an entire rack of beautiful formal gowns—where the hell did he think she was going to wear all this stuff? Her shop in the garage?—she had to smile.
Even if I’m pissed as hell.
His game was clear. He was already building up the count before he’d even recovered from his introduction to her crop.
Evidently he had something extravagant planned, because the rack closest to the bed only held one dress with its own stack of boxes. After his story about growing up on the fishing boats and his father’s love affair with the sea—not to mention Donovan’s selection of all blue lingerie—it didn’t surprise her the gown was a sumptuous blue-gray. What did surprise her was how perfectly it matched her eyes.
He’d also selected an entire set of lingerie, including a tiny scrap of a thong, a garter belt and bra in a soft, shimmering silver matching the strappy metallic heels. Silk stockings so sheer and light they might as well have been made from spider webs. The bra was going to heft her breasts as high as any corset and the dress’s neckline was so low it would almost reveal her bellybutton. Okay, that was an exaggeration, but he was definitely going to have a hard time keeping his eyes off her cleavage.
In the chair beside the bed, he’d left her overnight bag of her own things. Jeans, comfortable shirts, tennis shoes. On top, he’d left a note for her.
Lilly, choose what you’re most comfortable with. I’ll love either outfit. Remember to increase the count either way.
P.S. Come hungry.
He’d only signed a D at the bottom of the note. Disappointed he hadn’t used Lover Boy or Sexy Beast, she looked at her old familiar comfortable clothes and then the sexy expensive gown. She didn’t recognize the swirling V of the label, which probably meant it was even more expensive than anything she could imagine.
Increase the count either way. Silly boy. Grinning, she had to put on the gorgeous dress just to see the way he looked at her.
She went in search of a shower, which ended up looking like a Roman bath. Shaking her head, she found a vast array of products, even some which would probably help tame her hair. A whole tray of perfumes and lotions was on the vanity, but she turned them all down. Most scents didn’t agree with her unless they were all natural essential oils. He probably had some of those around too—since they were extremely expensive per ounce—but she didn’t care to take the time to sort them all and find one that wouldn’t break her out.
Staring at herself in the full-length mirror, she had to admit the dress looked incredible. Her breasts were framed by the deep neckline, lifted by the plunging bra beneath. The dress wasn’t as tight as the wiggle dress she’d worn on their first date, but it wasn’t as forgiving either. No ruching hid the roundness of her stomach, the fullness of her hips. I really ought to lose twenty pounds. She sighed at the thought of giving up pie. I’ll have to walk Hank extra tomorrow. And give Donovan an extra hard workout.
That made her smile.
She didn’t have any idea how long he’d been waiting for her after delivering all the surprises, though surely if he needed her up by a certain time, he would have added a time to the note. Set an alarm. Something. It was nearly eight before she finally headed downstairs to find him.
The house was well lit but completely empty. At least he’s not throwing an impromptu cocktail party. I suck at mingling with people I don’t know.
She followed the delicious smells to the kitchen. Ricardo and Annette both were hard at work at the humongous eight-burner stove but chatting like old friends.
“Miss Harrison, you look gorgeous this evening.” Annette wiped her hands on a towel and then gestured her to follow. “Mr. Morgan’s out on the terrace.”
“Thank you,” Lilly replied. “I hope I didn’t keep him waiting too long.”
Annette laughed. “Not at all. Trevor’s been entertaining him.” As they walked, Annette added, “Trevor’s my son and we had a tough go there for a while. The chance to live on such an incredible property and manage things while he’s in the city is a once in a lifetime opportunity, but I’m even more grateful to Mr. Morgan for taking an interest in my son and giving him responsibilities around the house. He’s helping us out more than he could ever know.”
After Donovan’s story about how he’d grown up alone with his mother, Lilly was far from surprised he’d be especially sensitive to a single mother’s needs with a teenaged boy. “He knows, because he was that boy growing up.”
Annette laid a hand on her arm, halting just inside the sliding glass door. Outside on the stoned terrace, a romantic dinner had been set up with a small intimate table, lots of candles and soft lighting, flowers everywhere, and a chilled bottle of wine waiting for her to step outside. But what made Lilly’s heart swell in her chest, blocking her breath, was the sight of Donovan. He sat with his back to her, so she had no idea what he wore, other than it was something dark and formal. No doubt it cost a mint. Yet he hung his arm out over the side of his chair and was patting on Hank, her smelly, hairy dog he’d jokingly complained about all the way out from St. Paul.
Trevor threw a ball across the backyard and Hank went running after it, barking excitedly. The ball bounced off the low stone wall and before the dog could fetch it, Trevor caught it and tossed it back to Donovan. Laughing, he waited until Hank was a foot away from leaping on him and ruining his expensive suit, and then threw the ball back to Trevor.
Donovan laughed and the sound brought tears to her eyes. Mr. Moneybags, playing keep away with a boy and a dog. Be still my heart.
“Mr. Morgan cares about you a great deal. I can see it in his eyes. I just wanted to be clear up front I never had any expectations of anything more. That isn’t our arrangement at all, Miss Harrison.”
“I understand. I mean no offense, because I’ve already seen how much he depends on you, but you’re not exactly his type.”
Relieved, Annette actually winked at her. “And you are. The sexual tension sizzles whenever you’re in the room with him.”
Some women might have blushed. Others might have lied or tried to brush off such a comment. Lilly lowered her voice to a husky timbre. “You ought to see him sizzle behind closed doors. But please, call me Lilly. I only get formal when I’m trying to make him sorry for playing Mr. Moneybags.”
It’d be nice if she could be friends with Annette, especially if she vacationed very often with Donovan. But it might get…awkward. The help would know absolutely everything in the house and he was a very proud man. He wouldn’t want Annette to gossip about him, especially with the woman in his bed.
“Trevor and I have a guest house on the edge of the property.” Annette looked back outside, a smile twitching her lips. “It’s very far away from the main house. So you should have lots of privacy.”
“Mr. Morgan does appreciate his privacy,” Lilly agreed with a smile. “Speaking of which, I’m afraid I made a bit of a mess in the bedroom earlier today. I knocked over a lamp.”
“You did it? Mr. Morgan claimed he busted the lamp. He seemed quite proud of losing it, even though it was a matching set.”
Lilly laughed. “He was very proud of it. Hopefully I won’t break his bed again.”
Annette’s eyes flared with interest but she didn’t ask for details Lilly wouldn’t be able to give. “Trevor is usually busy with his job during the day helping with the landscaping, but if he’s ever a nuisance, just let me know. I’ll reassign him elsewhere.”
“I’m sure it won’t be a problem.” Hank notice
d her and came running over to the glass, drawing Donovan’s attention.
Slowly, he stood and turned to face her, his dark gaze locked on her. His shirt was gorgeous pewter blue that matched her dress, his suit a darker navy. No tie, shirt open, again, revealing the need she had yet to fulfill for him. Soon, lover boy. Getting you a collar is my top priority once we’re back in the city.
Annette slid the door open for her and Lilly gave Hank a firm “down” hand gesture to keep him off her dress, though she did squat down and scratch behind his ears. “Are you being a good boy?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Donovan said in a low, gravelly voice. A secret just for her.
She looked up at him, surprised he’d even hint so much before his employee, but he didn’t even look at Annette. His eyes were locked to her cleavage. No surprise there. “No, you weren’t, Mr. Morgan. There are entirely too many expensive new clothes I can’t possibly accept in the bedroom.”
Annette headed back to the door but she winked at Lilly. “We’ll start serving in a few minutes, Mr. Morgan. Trevor, why don’t you take Hank over to our house for a while?”
“Sure thing, Mom.”
“Thank you, Annette. And yes, Miss Harrison, you can and will accept those things. It’s payback for what I did to your other set of clothes.”
Annette chuckled but kept right on walking and shut the door behind her.
Shaking her head, Lilly joined him at the table and allowed him to seat her.
“What’s the count, Mistress?”
She watched as Donovan sat in his seat, turning his chair to face her. He was able to sit without wincing, so she hadn’t done too much damage to his fine ass. “I was going to say zero.”
He shot a dark look at her as he poured them both a glass of wine. “After all that work locating exactly what I wanted and then getting it here so quickly so it’d be available before you woke up? Zero isn’t acceptable.”
“There are only so many bruises a body can take, Donovan. It’d be better—”
“No.”
Annette returned with a rolling cart and began setting items on the table, so Lilly had to wait to retort. Each moment only ratcheted up her irritation more, and worse, he knew it. A smile played on his lips and he started chatting up Annette to keep her delayed as long as possible.
“Do you know of any woman who’d turn down a rack of designer dresses?”
“Oh, sure, lots of them, Mr. Morgan.”
“You’re not helping my cause here.”
“We women have to stick together. But if I could pull off the same dress and look that good, I’d wear nothing else.”
Startled, Lilly had to glance down at herself again. Sure, she’d known the dress and bra would do incredible things for her boobs, but it wasn’t all that, was it? Annette had the much more traditional tall and willowy figure designers seemed to prefer. “It’s easy to look good in a well-made dress.”
“No, it isn’t. Some designer dresses wear you, not the other way around. You just have this sense of confidence and sensuality that makes the dress come alive. You have very good taste, Mr. Morgan.” Annette’s voice rang with a deeper sense of meaning Lilly couldn’t miss.
Her stomach started to feel a little funny. Jumpy. And the loaf of artisan bread he was breaking open with his hands didn’t make her mouth water.
“Yes, I do.” It’d be impossible to miss the heat smoldering in his eyes. He slathered butter on the bread and set a piece on a saucer in front of her but she could only stare at it, her throat tight. “Impeccable.” He waited until Annette left and then leveled a challenging look at Lilly. “You hate it when I tell you no above all else.”
She nodded, but her irritation had disappeared like a puff of smoke.
“Aren’t you going to eat your bread? Maybe I need to put more butter on it.”
“No.” He started to reach for it and she slapped his hand. “I said no. I’m thinking.”
He settled back in his chair and sipped the wine, dark eyes intent, not missing a thing. “I don’t think Mr. Moneybags is the problem this time. We were doing well until then. So what is it?”
She met his gaze straight on so she could watch the way his face betrayed him. “You’re falling for the Mistress.”
He didn’t wince, flinch, pale, redden or look away. “Yes, I am.”
Her stomach churned harder and she wrapped her fingers together in her lap. “It’s to be expected in a way. I just need to make sure I control how deep I let you fall.”
His eyes narrowed even more. “This isn’t something you can control in me, Lilly.”
“It’s my job to control it. I’m giving you what you need, something you’ve never had before. Your own words. It’s natural to start having romantic thoughts, confusing the heart for the needs of your body.”
“My heart’s not confused at all.”
“I’m just trying to protect us both. I’ve seen subs fall hard for the dominant in the scene. Outside the scene, it’s a different story. It can be tragic when the relationship doesn’t work and they lose the magic in the scene as well.”
“Ah. So you think I’m falling for the Mistress only, not the whole package.”
“You don’t know me, Donovan. The real me.” She said it softly, gently, but hurt still flickered in his eyes. “We haven’t discussed the other sides of my life at all. I haven’t even asked you about what your ideas for the stained glass will be this entire weekend. You’ve wined and dined and fucked Mistress L and she thanks you for it most appreciatively but don’t start thinking she’s all who’s sitting here with you tonight.”
“What’s the count?” He kept his voice even but his eyes were the window to his soul and he was both furious and determined. I have to protect him, even from himself.
With a sigh, she picked up the bread and nibbled on it. It was too delicious to waste. “How bruised is your ass?”
“Doesn’t matter. What’s the count?”
She fought not to roll her eyes. Silly boy. “One blow for each dress is too much. Let’s go with three. I’ll make them good and hard to compensate.” But not on your ass if you have any hope of sitting in your office Monday morning. I’ll have to use your back and thighs. No hardship there.
“Then four. And I told you I want you to design the glass. I really have no idea or inclination what symbols or theme to use.”
“I know the main color theme should be blue.”
He smiled but it wasn’t light and happy. “And I know your favorite color’s red. Quiz me some more, Lilly. Or is red only Mistress L’s favorite color?”
“Mistress L wears whatever color her clients ask her to wear,” she said with a deliberate arching of her brow. Low blow there, because she was wearing his dress. “But Lilly’s favorite color is red, I agree. What’s my favorite food?”
“Dessert,” he said immediately. “Specifically pie, followed by bread and butter. Your favorite wine is moscato,” he added, reaching over to splash a little more in her glass. “But when you get nervous, you can’t eat at all. You don’t like to get up early, and then you fall asleep every time you get the chance. You sleep so heavily you don’t even hear me bringing in boxes for half an hour and cleaning up the latest casualty of war.”
“Mistress L was exhausted.”
“So Mistress L often sleeps in her client’s beds?”
Her eyes flared before she could control her reaction. Ouch. Definitely a low blow.
“Tell me, Lilly. Exactly how many times has Mistress L fallen asleep with her sub? Give me the number and we’ll add it to my count. Or better yet, why don’t you tell me how many times Mistress L has come in the past with a submissive.”
She stared back at him, unable to answer.
“That’s what I thought. So I’m still stuck at four, aren’t I?”
Ricardo brought the first course himself. “French onion soup. Given the lady’s preference for bread, I made sure to cut the slice nice and thick so she has a good meaty bite. Enjoy
.”
She dropped her gaze to the bowl and took a deep, shaking breath. As rich as the broth smelled, he’d probably cooked it all afternoon. Melted cheese ran over the sides of the bowl, nicely toasted. Donovan was already cracking the delicious crust of bread to get to the sweet caramelized onions below, but she hadn’t picked up her spoon yet. Not until this is resolved.
“I have a proposition, then.”
He set his spoon back in the bowl and reached over to squeeze her hand. “Anything.”
“No more Mistress L this weekend.”
His thumb rubbed lightly on the back of her hand but he didn’t immediately reply. To fill the silence, she explained. “It’d be better for your health anyway, both mentally and physically. I put you through the wringer today already. We both need a rest. Let’s just be ourselves. Enjoy a nice lazy day tomorrow. Then we’ll see about the thrashing I promised you.”
Still he hesitated, though his thumb continued that soothing, maddening circle. She couldn’t stand it and had to speak again. “I can’t beat you every single night, Donovan.”
His lips quirked. “I’m not asking you to, but I suppose your arm would get rather sore.”
“Exactly. Not to mention your backside.”
She could feel his eyes on her, cataloging every little twitch and tightness. Lightly, she gave a little tug of her hand but he refused to let go. In fact, he turned her hand over and began to draw circles on her palm. Those soft little brushes made goose bumps break out on her shoulders and she shivered.
“If I agree to wait for the thrashing, do I get to make love to Lilly tonight?”
“Sure,” she shrugged nonchalantly. “You had her earlier today too.”
“No. That was a hard, frantic, delicious fucking, pardon my language, Miss Harrison. I want to make love to you tonight.”
“I don’t know if I can give up Mistress L completely.” She meant it as a warning. If he thought she could just lie back and be passive in bed, he was sorely mistaken.
The Billionaire Submissive (Billionaires in Bondage) Page 14
