“I was going to fly back tonight anyway, but I snagged an earlier flight so we could celebrate your promotion.” He chuckled. “But I think you might have celebrated a little too hard already?”
Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. “Not at all, I just had one glass of wine. It was a bunch of work people that went to dinner with me. The falling was, unfortunately, all my complete lack of coordination.”
“I think you’re pretty coordinated.” Thomas smiled down at her. “So, if you’ve only had one glass of wine, then having a cocktail with me isn’t out of the question?”
“Once I get some dry clothes on, cock sounds fantastic.” Maddie grinned at him when he started laughing, and then he squeezed her ass and turned them towards the steps.
“Alright, beautiful, let’s get you changed. Then I’ll happily give you one of each.”
“That sounds like a perfect celebration, but – wait, shit, I dropped my phone when I fell. Can you see it? It’s got a bright blue case.” Trying to turn around carefully, she looked for it, but it was hard to see in the dark, and the lights from her building weren’t helping much.
Thomas pulled his phone out and flipped the flashlight function on, and a moment later he let go of her to reach down and pull the little miracle of technology from a pile of slush. “Got it, but we’re going to want to dry it off quickly.”
“Fantastic,” Maddie groaned and he nudged her up the steps.
“Go on, I’ll work on it while you change. No need for you to get sick standing out here in wet clothes.”
“Right.” As soon as they were inside, she turned and kissed him. “Thank you, Thomas.”
“I haven’t even done anything yet,” he grinned, and then kissed her again. Nipping at her lips before leaning her back to deepen it – right in the middle of the lobby.
Grinning like a fool, she pulled away and pressed the elevator button. “You’ve done more for me than you could possibly know, and you are the perfect end to an already wonderful day.”
“Oh, I have a few ideas for how we can make it even better.”
“Really?” Her voice was a soft purr as she pulled him with her into the elevator, and after she’d pressed floor six he pushed her against the wall, shamelessly capturing her mouth. It was delicious, but they were both in way too many clothes for this to be happening. Not to mention they were on camera, in her building’s elevator, and she was starting to shiver from the snow that had soaked into her gloves and her jeans.
Thomas’ laugh sent a thrill down her spine when the ding signaled they’d arrived at her floor. “I’m going to need you to get changed quickly, because my plans are just getting more elaborate the longer I’m thinking about them.”
“Plans,” she repeated as they stepped into the hall, and she pulled him in the direction of her apartment.
“I’m thinking one drink to toast your promotion, and then I’m going to tie you down to the bed and make you come over, and over, and over.” He leaned close to her ear as he spoke, and she practically panted.
Definitely need to get changed. Fast.
“I’m all yours.” She smiled, but just before they got to the door she flinched, remembering he’d never seen her place. “I do have to give you fair warning, my apartment is kind of small, and so it’s pretty much always a wreck.”
“Now I’m curious.” Thomas watched her as she dug in her massive purse for her key, and fiddled with the lock until it finally turned over. In the hall light she finally had the chance to check him out. Dark slacks, with shining shoes, a black peacoat that fit him like it was custom cut – which was completely possible – and his warm, brown hair seemed to have been styled by the wind to look absolutely perfect.
Ridiculously hot.
Maddie shook her head, and shoved the door open. As soon as the lights came on she groaned, because her apartment looked worse than she thought. Dirty clothes scattered across the floor, a pile of unwashed dishes in the sink, and then Thomas moved in behind her. “Please, just, ignore all of it. I swear I’m not this big of a wreck all the time.”
As she hurried over to the corner of the room that held her dresser, her clothing rack, and the laundry basket of stuff she still hadn’t put away – Thomas looked like he was struggling not to laugh.
“I know, it’s tiny, but it’s an expensive area and I don’t need much.” She stripped out of her soaked gloves, and tossed her coat over the empty end of her clothing rack, before she sat down on the floor to pull off her boots.
“I’m not judging, Maddie. I spend most of my nights in my office, on a very uncomfortable couch because I’m too lazy to use the blow up mattress tucked in my closet.”
“Really?” She stared at him as she stood back up to shimmy out of her jeans, which were even more disgusting than she’d guessed when they’d been out on the street. Her hands and legs were grimy, and she really needed to wash off.
“Yep. A lot of the representatives sleep in their offices.”
“But you’ve got that huge, gorgeous house,” she hurried over to the bathroom, the only door in the room besides the one to the hall, and watched him shrug.
“It’s a big, empty house. No point in sleeping there alone when I just need to be back at the office. Usually less than twelve hours later, you know?” He smiled at her, his eyes trailing down her bare legs. “I think I might have to fuck you in nothing but a sweater, because that looks good on you.”
“Is that a promise?”
“Well, maybe in the morning. I want you completely naked when I tie you up.” The subtle edge to his voice made her shiver for entirely different reasons than the lingering chill on her skin.
“I –” Maddie’s voice failed her for a moment, and then Thomas raised his eyebrows at her. “I am going to clean up, and make myself look at least somewhat presentable. Quickly.”
“Quickly sounds perfect.”
She shut the door before she wasted more time, and turned on the bath to get some warm water going. While it heated up, she scrubbed her hands in the sink, rolling her eyes at her reflection. Only she would wipe out in front of her own apartment building, right in front of one of the hottest, most amazing men she’d ever met.
“Where’s a towel for your phone? Or do you want it in rice?” Thomas’ voice was hard to hear over the bath, but she shouted back.
“I don’t have rice, but there should be a towel in the laundry basket by the rack of clothes!” Grumbling to herself, she grabbed her face wash. The make-up she’d put on that morning was raccooning around her eyes, and since she had a few minutes she might as well fix it.
Before he ties you to his bed?
She bit her lip as she visualized it, remembering the way he liked to tease her to the edge as he licked her, holding her against his mouth so she couldn’t escape.
You should be getting ready.
Cursing herself for getting distracted, she scrubbed at her face, using make-up remover on her eyes, and then patted dry so she could sit on the edge of the tub to rinse off her legs. Her knees were sensitive to the touch, and she was sure she could see the beginnings of bruises where both had landed on the ice, but at least she hadn’t twisted an ankle. Scrubbing as fast as she could, she washed the soap off her legs and then made sure the tap wasn’t leaking as she called out, “I’m almost done!”
She didn’t catch his answer as she grabbed a towel. Hair brushed, teeth brushed, and then some quick make-up. Mostly focusing on her eyes so she at least looked alive, instead of a pale, freckled mess. Practicing a smile in the mirror, she frowned at her hair, but gave up because she’d taken too long already and she knew it.
“Thomas?” Maddie stepped out of the bathroom, still trying to tame the impossible frizz, and then her heart stopped. He was sitting at her desk, her laptop open, and she knew what was on the screen before he even turned around. “I can explain.”
“Antoine was texting you while you were getting ready. He asked if you’d finished the article for him.” Thomas t
ossed her phone onto the bed, raising his eyes to hers. “He called you as well, but I thought it might be awkward if I answered.”
“Thomas, wait –”
“I was confused, because I thought you didn’t write articles at work. I was even trying to think of some explanation, and then I saw this.” He held up the job offer from the Post, and it felt like the floor dropped out from under her. She wanted to speak, but his expression was something she’d never seen. Cold, hard – angry.
“I –”
“You’re a fucking reporter?” He almost shouted the question, sounding more like an accusation than anything else, and then he let out a bitter laugh as he stood up. Pacing away from her desk, he clenched his fist around the pages of the offer, crumpling the edges. “I can’t believe I fell for your bullshit. I can’t believe I brought you in there!”
“Please, please listen to me. I wasn’t going to –”
“What, Maddie? Or – wait – is that even your fucking name? Who the fuck are you? Tell me! Who the hell have I been fucking for the last two weeks?” His voice was a roar when he asked the last question, his footsteps carrying him towards her until she backpedaled, tears springing to her eyes.
No, no, no, this wasn’t supposed to happen.
It was over, I’d decided.
I’d made my choice.
She was sniffling, backing up from him as if she were afraid of him, and fuck if part of him didn’t feel like a bastard for making her cower like that. Growling, he forced himself to walk away from her, throwing the damn offer letter from The Washington Post into a pile of clothes. He shoved his hands into his hair, pulling at it, trying to focus.
Jaxson is going to kill me.
“Thomas…” Maddie’s voice was shaky, and she was crying now, but he refused to let her manipulate him again.
“Am I in the fucking article? Was I just some mark to you because I’m in the House? Did you put me –”
“NO!” She shouted, shaking her head. “No, you’re not in there. I swear!”
“I saw you wrote about Jaxson, and Chase – and fucking Emma? You don’t even know them! What have they done to you? What has anyone at Black Light done to you?”
“I wasn’t going to publish it, I wasn’t. I swear, Thomas, just please let me explain.” Maddie walked towards him and he recoiled, backing up towards the front door.
He wanted away from her.
“I don’t want to hear it. You used me. You used me against my own friends. You used people’s personal lives as a fucking sideshow – and for what? So you could get some shit reporting job?” He laughed, grabbing his forehead as he stared at her. “Was that the promotion? Were you going to have me celebrate you destroying one of the only safe places in the fucking city for people to play?”
“NO!” She was starting to hyperventilate, her breaths turning into hiccups as she stood barely six feet away from him, and he had to squash the tiny part of him that wanted to make her sit down and slow her breathing. Maddie wasn’t his to watch over, she wasn’t his sub, she wasn’t his at all. “It’s not – that’s not it. I chose you, Thomas. I decided, I decided you were –”
“I was a fool, that’s what I was. I thought you’d been hurt, I thought that was why you didn’t understand some things – but you were just a fucking liar. You lied about everything!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Maddie had her hands in front of her, her fiery red hair in waves over her shoulders, her breaths cutting short as she sobbed. “Please, don’t leave. I never meant…”
“Why don’t you call Antoine and tell him how you feel? He seems desperate to talk to you.” Turning away, he pulled the door open and slammed it behind him as he stepped into the hall. The wail he heard as he started towards the elevator plucked at him, tempted him to go back and comfort her, to stop her pain – but she wasn’t who he wanted to hold. She was a lie wrapped in a pretty, distracting package. He wanted the girl he’d thought she was, and he hated himself for feeling anything for the woman in there now.
His head was buzzing and everything was a haze as he left her apartment building. Paul didn’t even have the chance to get out to open the door before Thomas was settled in the backseat, his rage completely out of control.
“Is Ms. O’Neill not coming?”
“No, she’s not. I need to go to the Georgetown house. Immediately.”
“Of course.” Paul nodded and immediately pulled away from the building. The drive to the house was a blur, because he spent the whole ride replaying the argument in his head. Maddie’s tears, the sobs, her pretty voice shaping even more lies. His chest ached as he remembered her pleading, but then he would remember the way her phone kept buzzing with texts from Antoine Cano.
When do you want to meet tomorrow? Had made his possessive streak twitch, but he’d pushed it down. Then came the text that had confused him: Are you done with the article?
At first he’d just wanted to sit down, and so he’d pulled out her chair, but her desk was covered in pieces of scrap paper with BDSM terms scrawled on them, quick definitions, and then he’d seen the job offer. His head had spun, trying to process it all, and before he could think about it he’d opened her laptop. The article was waiting on the screen like she’d just been working on it, and then Antoine had called, and she had come out and –
“Fuck!” He shouted, slamming the side of his hand into the door panel. Paul jumped at the sudden break of silence in the car, and Thomas forced himself to breathe slowly. “Sorry, Paul. I just got some bad news.”
“Is Ms. O’Neill alright?” The question was a strange break in normal protocol for the man, and Thomas met his eyes in the rear view mirror.
“She’s fine.”
Paul nodded, and then put his eyes back to the road, staying silent the rest of the drive, which wasn’t long at all. When the car pulled up to the curb, Thomas opened the door before it had even fully stopped. “Head home, Paul. Thank you.”
“Of course, Mr. Hathaway.”
As soon as he got into the house, dark and empty and quiet, he walked into the library and poured a large scotch. It burned, but it dulled the raw feeling inside him as he sat down and tried to clear his head enough to figure out his next steps.
First, he texted Alan that he would need to delay his return to the office another day, and then he took a big drink and called Jaxson. The line rang, and rang, and went to his voicemail. Thomas debated about what to say, but figured the discussion would be better if they were talking – because then Jaxson could tear him a new one in real time. He took a deep breath and tried not to sound as insane as he felt, “Jaxson, it’s Thomas. I need to talk to you as soon as you get this. It is very fucking urgent. Call me, or come to the Georgetown house. I’m here.”
Chapter Thirteen
Wednesday
The extended chime of the doorbell echoing throughout the house made Thomas jerk out of the chair, and then he groaned as his head pounded. Prying his eyes open he could see the unfinished glass of scotch on the table beside him, but whether that had been his fourth or fifth pour – he couldn’t remember.
Shit.
Everything from the night before came rushing back in full, horrific Technicolor, just as the damn doorbell went off again. Growling, he stomped to the front door and knew before he’d even opened it who was out front. One tall, broad frame in tailored clothes, another a little shorter, with slightly longer hair.
Jaxson had brought Chase with him. Flipping the deadbolt, Thomas pulled the door open. “I called you, Jaxson. Just you.”
“Where I go, we all go. You’re just lucky Emma had plans.” Jaxson shrugged, and pointed towards the interior. “Are we going inside for whatever emergency you’re having, or are you going to tell me while I freeze on your front porch?”
Rolling his eyes, he opened the door wide and let the two men into his house. Chase gave him a grin as he walked in. “This is a beautiful home.”
“Thank you.” Thomas kicked the door shut, the
windows shaking with the force of it, but he didn’t even flinch – he just walked back into the library and picked up his unfinished scotch.
“This is a whiskey at nine in the morning kind of problem?” Jaxson asked, crossing his arms as he paused just inside the room, Chase filling the rest of the doorway to his right.
“It’s scotch, actually, and I have a feeling you’re about to want some.”
“Why?” Chase asked.
“Because Maddie is a fucking reporter.” Thomas should not have felt the dark surge of self-satisfaction as the shadow passed over Jaxson’s face, but he did. Now, the man understood the situation.
“What?” His old friend’s voice was dangerously quiet, but Thomas had spent half the night torturing himself over every mistake he’d made, every stupid choice, and he’d numbed them all with liquor.
“Madeline O’Neill has written an article exposing Black Light for The Washington Post.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jaxson roared, but Chase just stood there silent and wide-eyed. “When does it go out? What kind of lead-time are you giving me on this colossal fuck up? God dammit, Thomas!”
“From what I understand, she hasn’t turned it in yet.” Thomas flinched as he remembered her voice, unsteady with tears, but then he pushed it away. “She told me last night she wasn’t going to, but I honestly don’t believe a fucking thing she says.”
Jaxson laughed, a bitter sound as he walked over to the scotch and poured himself a glass, and Chase shadowed him to do the same. His friend took a rough drink of the liquid and then looked up at him. “So, you discovered this last night.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I was picking her up at her apartment, and I saw some things while I was waiting for her to get ready. Then I saw the article, and…”
“And?” Chase prompted.
“I lost it.” Thomas finished the last of the scotch in his hand, letting it burn all the way down as he remembered how he’d shouted at her, the way she’d backed away from him with genuine fear.
Black Light: Exposed (Black Light Series Book 2) Page 16
