Masters for Life

by Ginger Voight

  “Deep down I know that you’re an opportunistic asshole who will do or say anything to get $250,000 you didn’t earn.”

  “Two for two,” he agreed again. “But at least I’m honest about it, which is more than I can say for your husband.”

  “My husband loves me.”

  “Your husband is incapable of loving anyone,” he informed me.

  I thought about Aileen and Darcy. The way Devlin loved his family invalidated anything this grifter said. “Project much?”

  “All the time,” he admitted with that same shit-eating grin. “But again, at least I’m honest about it.” He held up the bottle he still carried. “Got a glass?”

  With a sigh I walked to the bar, where I fetched one champagne flute from the rack. He was endlessly amused as I handed it to him.

  “Not going to join me for a toast?”

  “Nope,” I replied. “No matter what you think, this is not a date. You were hired specifically to help me work out.”

  He nodded as he walked over to the sofa, where he plopped before he uncorked his bottle of champagne. “As you wish,” he said before he filled his glass. “You want to improve yourself. Who am I to stop you? Surprised you want to lose any weight though, after what happened with Suzanne.”

  I gritted my teeth. I knew this was still the same game he played. “What happened with Suzanne has nothing to do with me.”

  “Are you kidding?” he chortled. “Sweetheart, it has everything to do with you.” He patted the seat beside him on the sofa. “Come sit down next to me. Let Uncle Caz tell you the story.”

  I hesitated a long moment, staring at him from where I stood at the bar, my arms crossed over my chest. His gaze never wavered.

  “Come on, CC. Aren’t you just a teensy bit curious?”

  I tipped my chin. “Whatever happened with her I could find out from my husband.”

  “No, you can’t,” he corrected softly with a knowing smile. “Because your husband won’t tell you one damned thing.”

  I could only pray he didn’t see how hard I gulped.

  “Like I told you before. I know Devlin a lot better than you do. I knew him way back in Vegas, when we both worked for Suzanne at the casino. I got to see the whole sordid thing go down.” He took a long sip of his bubbly drink before he settled back into the sofa. “At first, I thought he was insane to chase after her. She was the boss, after all. Plus she didn’t look at all like she does today. She was heavier, of course, much heavier than you,” he added as his gaze swept over me. I held myself tighter as a result. “But that was not what made her ugly. You could just tell there was something off about her. This one time,” he started as he made himself even more comfortable, “one of our cocktail waitresses ran afoul of the good Mrs. Everhart by getting a little too close to one of her boy toys. You have to understand that’s what we all were. Every single one of us. All of the men she hired looked like Dev or me, and we all belonged to her in some form or fashion. That’s what happens when someone starts filling your pockets with loads of cash and special gifts. It keeps you on the chain.”

  As much as I didn’t want to, I found myself drifting a little closer to the sofa. He went on with his story.

  “So we’d take it whenever she danced dangerously close to inappropriate behavior, like a lingering touch, or standing too close, or flirting. If she were a man and we were all women, the ACLU would have taken her apart with a pair of rusty pliers. But because she’s a harmless, frustrated woman, who couldn’t even get her husband to look at her twice because he was chasing all the dancers and showgirls, no one ever thought anything about it. It gave her free reign to prey on all the men who depended on her for their livelihood. The really smart guys, like Dev, would never have reported it anyway. They’d just use it to their advantage. And that’s what he did.”

  I sat on the other end of the sofa. I knew I had landed on his web, but he had tapped into the one area where I was most vulnerable. I wanted to know about Devlin’s past, and I knew that I’d never get this kind of information from Devlin himself.

  “He flirted back. He was just as brazen. He stood a little too close. His touches lingered. Basically he saw an opportunity and he took it. He offered his services to get her into shape, much like I’m doing for you,” he added with a smile as he tipped me his glass, “and soon they were spending quite a bit of time outside of the casino. Rumors quickly followed that they were having an affair. He started dressing in nicer clothes. She started shedding the extra pounds. He tamed her southern hairdo and began to dress her in clothes that accentuated all her best qualities, Darcy’s designs of course. Meanwhile he kept living larger and larger. Sound familiar?” he asked before he took another sip.

  I hated to admit that it did. Everything he was saying that Dev did for Suzanne, he had done for me as well. And as much as I wanted to discount what he was saying as yet another manipulative story, Suzanne was living proof. I had seen the before and after photos. And I knew that Devlin was responsible for her makeover.

  Even when he speaks the truth, he does it for a dishonest reason.

  “Get to the point, Caz.”

  “More men started to pay her attention, which she liked. But Dev didn’t like it. Not one little bit. And that’s where the story took a most dramatic turn. This poor clueless cocktail waitress from Utah wasn’t really trying to fuck up her entire life by flirting with the handsome Devlin, who flirted right back because he was tired of watching Suzanne parade her new pets right in front of his nose. Poor schmuck probably started to really believe he was special. It wasn’t his first mistake.” He exhaled deeply as he leaned back. “Yeah, Lydia merely wanted piano lessons, ironically enough, and good ol’ Dev was all too eager to provide them, rubbing it under Suzanne’s nose that he was spending all this time with another woman. Within a few weeks she was not only fired but arrested, when one of Suzanne’s big honking baubles was found in her locker. This chick was a fucking Mormon, for chrissakes. And she went down for grand larceny, simply because she got a little too close to the boss lady’s favorite toy.”

  He let that suggestion linger for a bit. I didn’t say anything.

  “Lydia Dawson,” he finally said, to validate the story. “Look her up. Here,” he said, pulling out his phone. “I’ll do it for you. You see, I’m not afraid of the truth. I’m not going to hide it from you, because I have nothing to lose. I’m not going to distract you with my skills in bed, keeping you high on orgasms so you can no longer think or question. I’m certainly not going to shove my dick in your mouth to keep you quiet.” He found the news item he was looking for, before he shoved the phone my direction.

  Indeed there was a story about a cocktail waitress named Lydia Dawson stealing a ten-thousand-dollar ring from her boss, Mrs. Suzanne Everhart. There were pictures to support the story, and I could see that Suzanne was still in the process of her transformation. She wore clothes I knew instantly were designed by Darcy. I checked the date. It was about three and a half years before.

  He took the phone back. “She didn’t want to just get even with Lydia. She wanted to make Devlin pay for what he had done. After she got rid of the competition, she paraded a brand new boy toy around under his nose, and there wasn’t one damned thing he could do about it.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Let me guess. You were the new toy.”

  “What a smart girl you are,” he murmured. “So you must be smart enough to realize then that the hotter you get, the less he’s going to trust you.”

  “I’ll take my chances,” I snapped. My smoldering stare could have split his skull right in two.

  He appraised me thoughtfully. “Guess we better hit the gym then, Mrs. Masters. New Year’s Eve will be here before you know it.”

  “I’ve been ready for a half-hour.”

  He glanced down at his suit. “Oh yeah,” he said with a grin. He put his flute onto the table before he stood. He crossed the distance between us in two steps, before hovering over me with a different kin
d of smoldering glance all his own. I watched as he tugged free his tie, which snapped from around his neck before he trailed it across one of my wrists. My fists balled tightly, so he tossed the tie away. With that despicable smirk, he ran his hands up his sculpted chest until his fingers circled that top button. Slowly he released them, one at a time, revealing his sculpted bare chest underneath, which caught me off guard. His bold tattoos on both arms appeared to breathe thanks to his rippling muscles.

  He took off the shirt and tossed it onto the sofa next to me, before angling his pelvis towards my face. “Help me with my pants?” he said as he held his hands out to the sides of his hips, like he was presenting me with pure gold. I practically breathed fire, but I didn’t move one muscle. “No? I guess I can do it then.”

  His strong fingers unfastened his dress slacks, slowly unzipping them. His slacks fell to the floor, revealing snug compression workout shorts that hugged his defined bulge proudly. As he stepped out of his pants, I realized that he still wore his dress shoes. “Looks like you forgot something,” I sneered.

  He chuckled as he kicked off his shoes. He reached for one sock. “I guess I’ll have to go bare. Do you mind?”

  I scowled at his innuendo. “You’re such a pig.”

  He leaned over me, backing me up against the cushion of the sofa, one arm on either side of me. “We’re all animals deep down, baby.” His gaze liberally drifted towards my mouth. “So what do you say? Wanna burn some calories, Mrs. Masters?”

  With a growl I scooted out from under his arm and rounded the other side of the sofa. He straightened with an even wider smile before he followed, trailing his laughter behind.

  Once we got to the gym, his demeanor changed. He wasn’t playful or seductive. He barked orders at me to get me moving. If I slowed down, he’d pop off with comments like, “Come on, girl! Get that ass in gear. You’re either going to show me I’m wrong in six months, or you’re going to show Devlin what he’s missing. Show your dad,” he added, most evilly. “Show everybody! Give me that Fuck You Body, CC.”

  “I hate you,” I gritted between clenched teeth, but I didn’t stop. In fact, I worked harder. The sooner I got “in shape,” the sooner I could be rid of this obnoxious asshole.

  “Hate me all you want,” he shrugged. “I’m not the one you’re hurting by half-assing your life, sweetheart. Knees up!”

  After an hour and a half, I could barely move. He handed me my towel. “Not bad, Mrs. Masters. Not bad at all. You keep that up and even I’ll want to fuck you myself come New Year’s Eve.”

  I glowered at him. “Weren’t you the one trying to come onto me upstairs?”

  He towered over me, bracing against the machine with his arms as he stared down at me, making sure I was close enough to see each and every contour of his body. “Oh, I’d fuck you now. I fuck people I don’t want to fuck all the time.” He caressed another lock of my hair. “But if you’ve ever been fucked by someone who really wants to fuck you, then you know being wanted is better.”

  “I already know that,” I snapped. “I figured that out the first night I spent with Devlin.”

  We headed towards the elevator. “Ah, yes. Devlin. The Master,” he added with a sneer. “Look at this joint, CC. Do you really think he could earn a place like this if he didn’t make every woman he fucked feel that way?”

  I held up my fist, showing my large wedding set. How I wished I could punch his hateful face with it. “Not every woman got that.”

  “Touché,” he grinned. He leaned against the wall of the elevator. “And I can guarantee you’re going to get nice and fucked tonight, so he can prove to you both what kind of manly man he is. So you’re welcome.”

  I rolled my eyes and said nothing.

  “Maybe you like it. Maybe this is part of the fantasy for you. Get him all worked up so he goes wild for you. That’s gotta spice things up a bit. How many orgasms can you attribute to me, CC? Really?” I wouldn’t even dignify that with a reaction. So he leaned closer. “Just be careful. If you’re still thinking babies, you should probably think again. It would be exceptionally stupid if you got knocked up at the stage of the game. It won’t change anything. By the new year, you will be alone.”

  I was just about to whip around and scream in his disgusting face when the elevator door opened to the fifteenth floor. I stalked the remaining twenty or so feet to my apartment. The door was unlocked, which meant Dev was home. I took a deep breath to brace myself as I let us into the darkened apartment.

  I reached for a lamp, which cast a mellow light across the large living room. Devlin sat in one of the chairs, still in his suit from work, his shirt open at the collar, his tie long abandoned. He held a crystal decanter in one hand. It was once full of expensive Scotch, but he had all but drained it. I could smell it all the way across the room.

  He waited until we got a little closer before he said anything. I realized that Caz’s discarded suit was draped across the arm of his chair, with the shoes right on the floor next to him. It sent an involuntary shudder through me when I met Dev’s murderous gaze. His voice was every bit as malevolent.

  “Nice workout?”

  “Fabulous,” Caz grinned. “Your wife is quite… flexible. And that stamina. Wow.” He ran a hand down his glistening chest, along his skin tight shorts, near his pronounced package. Devlin’s cheek twitched as he tried to keep his composure. It only made Caz try that much harder to get under his skin. “But I’m sure I’m not telling you something you don’t already know.”

  I was afraid that Dev’s head might actually explode. I crossed over to him, where I reached for Caz’s clothes. Devlin circled my wrist in his fingers, tightening his grip without even looking at me. Instead he stared straight at Caz. “They’re his clothes. Let Caz get them.”

  The two men stared at each other for a long moment. Finally Caz approached, but slowly. I felt Dev coil, almost like a snake, the closer he got. He raised his other arm, which made Caz stop immediately, but all Dev did was take another swig of liquor from the decanter he held. His mouth curved slightly, as if he knew how unsettled the other man had become. Caz was no longer smiling as he reached forward, deliberately and cautiously, for his clothes. Devlin had him locked in that lethal glare, while he held onto my wrist with a white-knuckled grip. I could practically feel him twitch, in anticipation of any movement.

  Caz withdrew his clothes, but his tie trailed behind. He clearly debated whether or not it was worth a second brush with Devlin to retrieve it.

  Devlin wasn’t going to let him off the hook. “Don’t forget your tie, Casper,” he murmured.

  Another unspoken moment passed between them, like an electrical current. “Keep it,” Caz said. “I know how you like ties.”

  Dev’s hand gripped my wrist even harder. I knew he was doing everything he could not to fly up from that chair throttle him. Caz must have known it too, because his smile returned. “See you next week,” he said before he finally left. Dev waited until the door closed behind him, when he dropped the crystal decanter on the floor, shattering it into worthless little bits. Only then did he let me go. I rubbed my sore wrist with my other hand, as if I had been released from a handcuff.

  Devlin took Caz’s tie into his hand, running his fingers over the expensive silk. He didn’t say anything, which made his anger even scarier.

  “Dev–”

  “Go to the bedroom and wait for me, Coralie,” he said, still without looking at me. Instead he stared at the tie.

  “Dev,” I started again, but was immediately silenced when those bright green eyes met mine.

  “Now.”

  It was such a softly issued command that it surprised me how authoritative it was. I nodded and hurried to the bedroom. I hopped into the shower, to wash away my workout, and all that implied. I slipped into a silky nightshirt before I returned to the bedroom, where I found Dev, who had stripped down to his trousers and bare feet. He was tying both his tie and Caz’s tie to either side of the top corners of t
he bed.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like?”

  I paused by the side of the bed. “It looks like you think you’re going to tie me to this bed.”

  “I don’t think I’m going to tie you to the bed, Coralie,” he said. He turned to face me. “I know I am.”

  My stomach dropped. “I don’t think so.”

  He rounded the bed to approach me. “Why not? That’s what my good girl has always wanted, isn’t it? A walk on the wild side with an alpha male, who would take her in hand and make her submit.” He stood right in front of me. I could smell the booze on his breath. “A bad boy who would take all her choices away, so she doesn’t have to bear any responsibility for all her nastiest desires. You need the baddest of the bad for a job like that, darlin.’ Someone a little…,” he trailed off as he leaned even closer, “unpredictable.”

  I shivered in spite of myself. His fingers chased the goose bumps down my arm. “We didn’t cover everything in Vegas, did we? We left a few stones unturned. Let’s turn them over. You know nothing would turn you on more than to be tied to this bed, at my mercy.”

  Again I shivered. “Devlin.”

  “For the rest of the night, until I tell you otherwise, you will call me sir,” he instructed as his eyes met mine. It was a potent look that welcomed no argument.

  “Devlin,” I tried again, this time a little sharper. He responded by stepping closer.

  “I said,” he repeated slowly, taking my chin in his hand, “you will call me sir.”

  My eyes widened as his mouth descended on mine. Despite the light bondage and submission he was suggesting, the kiss was positively gentle. He teased my mouth apart with his lips, probing my mouth just lightly enough to make me melt against him. And he knew what kind of power he had over me the minute I kissed him back.

  I was a junkie. And he was my fix.

  He wound his hand in my hair and pulled my head back so he could explore my neck. “That’s my girl,” he growled against my ear.

  He made quick work of my nightshirt, deftly unbuttoning each large button and revealing my naked skin underneath. I was a goner the minute his hands touched my body. Caz was right about one thing. There was nothing like being wanted. I could feel it in the desperate way Dev kissed me, practically choking me with his tongue. His hand curved down the arch of my spine, until he was cupping my ass in both hands and grinding me up against his hard body. “Show me how much you want this cock, baby,” he urged. “Tell me to tie you to this bed and fuck the shit out of you.”