Black Listed

by Shelly Bell

  No, not a blob.

  Ants.

  Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands.

  Her gaze fell upon her wrist.

  Black ants crawled over it.

  Slapping at her hand, she backed out of the room until she slammed into a solid form.

  A person.

  She screamed as she spun around and punched the intruder in the gut. She was raising her leg, preparing to knee him in the nuts, when she realized his identity.

  Sawyer.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” she asked, noticing he’d changed from his suit into jeans and a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled, exposing his forearms.

  The timing of his arrival tonight and this break-in couldn’t be a coincidence.

  Was that why he’d left the wedding reception early? To ransack her condo and terrify her as a means of revenge?

  Sawyer bent at his knees, and the next thing she knew, he had her airborne and hanging over his shoulder in a fireman hold as he stormed down the hallway. “I think the more important question is what the hell is going on? Who did this?”

  The nerve of him! Who did he think he was coming in here and playing hero? It set her nerves on edge.

  She tried wiggling off him, but he smacked her butt and held her tighter. “Why don’t you tell me? I’ve lived here quietly for the past several years without incident, and in one night, I run into you and then come home to this.” Her dress slid up her thighs. If he didn’t put her down soon, she’d flash her neighbors.

  He brought her outside and practically dropped her on her feet. “You think I had something to do with this?”

  Slightly dizzy from hanging upside down, she leaned on the brick wall of her condo for support. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  “Well, believe me when I tell you this.” He tipped up her chin, forcing her to look at his face. “I had nothing to do with it. And to prove it to you, I’m going to call 911, like you should’ve done as soon as you realized someone had broken into your place.” He stepped away from her and pulled a phone from his pocket.

  Panic surging, she grabbed his wrist. “No, don’t call the police.”

  “Are you serious?” He covered her hand with his own. “Annaliese—”

  “Stop calling me that. My name is Lisa now.” She couldn’t handle the way her body reacted when he said her real name. As if it belonged in his arms. Preferably naked. She had to stay detached if she was going to save them both.

  His jaw tightened. “You’ll always be Annaliese to me, and right now, you’re still my wife. So that makes you my responsibility.”

  His wife in name only. She’d never truly belonged to him, and she never would. “I’m no one’s responsibility but my own. I’ll deal with this mess. You can go now.” She whipped her hand away from him and gestured to the parking lot.

  He squinted at her arm. “What is up with the ants crawling on you?”

  Smacking the ants off her, she shuddered. Even if she managed to kill all the bugs, she’d still feel them on her skin until she showered. “Check the bed. Someone left them as a present for me. I hate ants. Always have.”

  He paused, folding his arms across his chest, and glared, assessing her. “This isn’t random, is it?”

  In her view, nothing was random. Everything had its reason, and everyone had a motive. “No. Whoever did this wanted to scare me.”

  And it had worked, although she’d never admit it out loud, even to Sawyer. Especially to Sawyer. If she gave into her urge to turn to him for comfort, she wasn’t sure if she could ever make herself leave again. But she wasn’t the submissive Annaliese anymore, the girl who’d worshipped the ground Sawyer walked upon. She was Lisa. Cool. Collected. Capable. “It’s someone from my past.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because he left a note.” Damn, she’d left it inside on the floor of her room. “All it said was ‘gotcha,’ but I think I can safely assume this wasn’t a random break-in.”

  “Pissed off a few people, have you?” He casually rubbed the blond scruff lining his jaw, but there was nothing casual about the fire in his eyes.

  Good. At least it was something. She couldn’t stand the dispassionate blankness his gaze had exuded at Benediction. If she was going to figure out how to get rid of him, she needed to be able to read him well, like she had all those years ago. She need him riled up. Angry at her. “Did you think you’re the only one I conned in my lifetime? There’s at least a half dozen people who would pay to kill me.”

  He stalked toward her and grabbed her shoulders, backing her up against the wall. “And how many of them did you marry?”

  As he looked down at her, breathing heavily, his eyes full of lust, she couldn’t lie. “Only one. Only you.”

  His eyelids fluttered shut, and he buried his nose into the side of her neck, inhaling deeply as if taking in her scent. “Guess that’s something, huh? I’m special, then.” She swore she felt his lips caress her skin before he lifted his head and gazed into her eyes. “So why don’t you want to call the police?”

  “What am I going to tell them? There’s a handful of people who want me dead because I cleaned out their bank accounts? There’s no reason to call them. I don’t need them asking questions and looking into Lisa Smith’s background. I’ve survived this long by keeping my head low and staying out of trouble. I’ll hire a crew to clean up the place, and I’ll change my locks.” Or run far away where no one would ever find her again.

  This time she wouldn’t let her guard down. She’d go back to the persona of a mousy secretary and not think that she could have a semi-regular life with friends and a career. She hated the idea of leaving the friends who had become more like a family to her than her actual blood relatives.

  He toyed with the ends of her hair. “Do you have any clothes to change into?”

  “Yeah, I have a bag in the car with the clothes I wore as I set up the wedding. Why?”

  “Because it looks like everything you own has been ruined, and as sexy as you look in that dress,” he said, his gaze raking down the length of her body, “I doubt you want to wear it at the hotel.”

  No way could she stay in his hotel room.

  It was hard enough to pretend she didn’t still love him, but the more time she spent with him, the harder it would be to maintain the charade. “Hotel? I’m not going—”

  “You are.” He spoke as if she didn’t have a choice, which if they were in a scene would really turn her on, but in the real world only managed to piss her off. “You’re going to stay with me until we figure out who did this to your condo. It’s not safe for you to be alone right now.”

  “I don’t think that would work out too well. I can stay with a friend until my place is cleaned.”

  He snaked an arm around her waist and tugged her to him, bending to whisper in her ear. “Have you already forgotten your promise to me? I own you for seven days, and that means if I want you staying with me, you’ll stay with me.”

  She shivered. It had nothing to do with the night air and everything to do with his display of dominance. “Six. Last night was the first, so we have six nights left.”

  He chuckled. “Last night didn’t count. You hadn’t agreed to my terms yet. So seven.”

  Intending to push him away, she placed a hand on his chest but instead found herself drawing closer. “Have you always been this bossy?”

  “Yes. You never minded it before.” He tipped up her chin, his thumb caressing her cheek. “In fact, I remember you loving my bossiness, especially that time when we played CEO and the secretary.”

  “In my defense, you made a hot secretary.”

  He bit her earlobe. “Maybe next time, I’ll let you be the secretary.”

  She fought against the wave of pleasure rolling through her pussy. “So cliché.”

  “There’s nothing cliché about you and me. Now are you coming with me, or do I have to pick you up and carry you again?”

  She was losing
control.

  Control of her body.

  Control of her mind.

  Control of her emotions.

  Grappling to regain some sense of restraint, she moved away from him and crossed her arms over her chest, as if that would give her some protection from him. “How do I know this isn’t all part of some wicked plan for revenge against me? You make me fear for my life, you swoop in as the hero, and then steal me away so you can cut me up into a million tiny pieces and feed me to the fish.”

  He shook his head and snorted. “I’m the owner of a multi-billion-dollar conglomerate, not a mafia enforcer. And if you still don’t believe it wasn’t me who did this to your condo, talk to the people working the front desk at the hotel last night. They can vouch for when I arrived and when I left.” He clenched his jaw. “Is that what you need to trust me?”

  Trust him? How could she trust him when she’d spent her entire life telling herself that everyone had a motive to lie?

  But at this point, she didn’t have a choice. She needed him to divorce her.

  She had to see their agreement through.

  Even if it destroyed her.

  Chapter Six

  “NICE ROOM,” LISA quipped, standing right inside the door of Sawyer’s penthouse suite. The suite came with two bedrooms, a living room with a long S-shaped couch, a large desk, and a full kitchen with stainless steel appliances.

  Why did a single man need all this space? And how long had he planned on staying?

  As if he couldn’t get enough distance between them, he stomped past her, draping his jacket on the back of the couch before leaning on the wall across the room from her.

  This hot and cold act from him was annoying her. One moment he couldn’t take his hands off her, and the next he kept his distance.

  Maybe she wasn’t the only one who was confused.

  He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Just because I lost billions of dollars doesn’t mean I’m not rich.”

  She jolted. “I didn’t take billions from you.”

  Just a few million dollars. It was still a crime, but it wasn’t as if he didn’t have money to spare. What did he mean that he’d lost billions?

  “Didn’t say you did.” He rubbed his jaw distractedly and then gestured to the open door beside him. “Anyway, make yourself at home. You can take this room. Use the shower, and get some sleep.”

  Clearly, he wanted to change the subject. She filed it away for later, along with the dozens of other questions she had for him. The problem with asking him questions was it opened the door for him to ask her questions. Questions she couldn’t answer, no matter how much she wanted to.

  The sun had already risen high in the morning sky, its rays streaming through the wall of windows. Although she wanted to take a long hot shower to wash the creepy-crawly sensation of bugs from her skin, she couldn’t afford to be alone with her thoughts.

  She decided to take a play from his rule book, avoiding eye contact and remaining detached as she went into her temporary bedroom and dropped the bag with her clothes on the bed. “I don’t have time to sleep. I have to get to work.”

  And away from him before she did anything stupid like confess everything.

  He loomed in the doorway, gripping both sides of it as if the entire room would collapse if he let go. “It’s Sunday. And I thought I told you to clear your schedule.”

  “Yes, well, despite your insistence otherwise, you don’t own me. I need to go into the office and finish up some things if I’m going to take time off this week.” She headed into the bathroom, expecting him to give her some privacy.

  No such luck. He followed her in and turned on the shower. “Anything changing between now and this afternoon?”

  Other than losing a bit more control over her life? She sighed, too exhausted anymore to fight. “No.”

  “Then you’ll get a few hours of sleep before you go,” he said decisively. “But first, let’s take a shower.”

  He peeled off his shirt, gifting her with the first glance of what her husband hid underneath his clothes.

  Her mouth grew dry even as the room filled with steam. When she’d known Sawyer before, he’d been toned and lean, but he looked completely different now. His chest was wider than she remembered, his arms thick with muscles. Her gaze followed the light trail of hair leading from his chest down his abdomen, where she could make out the sharp contours of those muscles. She wanted to lick a path down and see if she couldn’t sate her thirst from the moisture collecting on his skin.

  Frankly, his body intimidated the hell out of her. While she’d tried to stay in shape, her body had aged over the last few years. Her breasts were no longer as perky or her stomach as flat. It hadn’t bothered her until now.

  Would he still be attracted to her?

  He must have sensed her apprehension. “It’s important you know you can use your safe word if you don’t want this.”

  She nodded. “I know.”

  But she did want it.

  Wanted it more than anything.

  Her pulse skyrocketed as he flicked open the fly of his jeans. “What safe word do you want to use?”

  “Black list,” she said automatically.

  The words held more meaning than he would ever know.

  “That’s an odd choice. Care to share the meaning behind it?”

  “No.” She forced her gaze to his face. “That’s a hard limit.”

  He paused, his eyes locked with hers as they tried to uncover her secrets. She used to joke that all he had to do was give her his “Dom eyes” and she couldn’t refuse him anything. But today she held her ground, refusing to give into him. She almost expected him to walk out. Instead he resumed undressing, his nimble fingers doing the job she wanted to do. “Any of your other limits change?” His pants fell to the floor, and in a moment, his boxer-briefs joined them.

  His cock was fully erect, long and curved, pre-come already dripping from the tip. He’d always kept himself so perfectly manscaped that she used to laugh.

  She wasn’t laughing now.

  He’d kept up his habit of trimming the dark hair that nestled his cock. She didn’t want to think about how many women in the preceding years had gotten to see that cock . . . touch that cock . . . taste that cock.

  Before last night, it had been so long since she’d had sex, she hadn’t bothered waxing herself bare, as he’d preferred her in the past.

  What was the point when she was the only one who ever saw her naked?

  “You remember my limits?” she asked breathlessly, her hands itching to wrap her hands around his cock.

  Naked and unabashed, he walked behind her. His warm breath fanned her neck as he slowly unzipped her dress. “I remember everything.”

  Her dress slipped from her body. She leaned back, resting her head against Sawyer. “My limits haven’t changed.”

  Not that she’d had many.

  As her Master, Sawyer had ordered her to completely let go of her inhibitions and society’s moral compass in order to experience a world she’d barely known existed. She’d lived for the nights he’d challenged her soft limits, pushing her further and further until she couldn’t remember why she’d ever questioned them in the first place.

  Bondage, submission, and beatings were only the tip of the iceberg. There were times he’d shown her such pleasure she could barely remember her own name. Times when they’d invited other men and women into their bedrooms and into their fantasies. Times when there were so many hands and tongues on her skin, she couldn’t count them.

  Sawyer pushed her forward until they both stood beneath the hot spray of the shower. “Good to know you’re still the same kinky girl. It must have been hell to stay faithful.” His hands worked magic on her scalp as he massaged shampoo into her damp hair. “Your best friends are all members of Benediction. Logan told me about that place. About the fantasy rooms. How did you stay away?”

  He didn’t allow her to answer, only chuckling when she shivered from the fe
el of his erection poking between the cheeks of her ass. She had no doubt its placement was intentional. He knew what got her excited.

  She moaned, arching her back into him. Just an inch and he’d be inside her. She didn’t care how or where he took her, as long as he did.

  “I bet it killed you,” he continued in a rough voice that sent tingles down her spine. He shamelessly ground his dick against her ass. “Do your friends know that underneath your conservative demeanor you’re actually kinkier than them?”

  No, they had no idea.

  They couldn’t, because she hadn’t told them anything about herself, always managing to evade their personal questions. And as good friends do, they’d never pressed her for more. “I don’t think anyone is kinkier than my friend Gracie.”

  He gently tipped her head forward, rinsing the soap from her hair. “Oh, I don’t know about that. There was that time you left the patio door unlocked, and I came in while you were sleeping—”

  “Is that what we’re doing in here?” she asked, spinning around to face him. Enough foreplay. “Having a trip down memory lane? Or are you going to fuck me?”

  His eyes darkened as his dominance reared to the surface. He sunk his fingers into her hair and pulled her toward him, lifting her to her toes. “Unless I say otherwise, you will refer to me as Master. Is that clear?”

  Her pussy contracted, arousal spilling from her. The slight pain as he tugged on her hair coupled with the way he took control sent her into the submissive headspace. “Yes, Master.”

  “You want my cock in your greedy pussy, girl?” He pulled harder on her hair, eliciting a yelp from her. “You have to earn it first.” With his hand on her head, he pushed her down. “Get on your knees and show me what you can do with that hot little mouth of yours. Make me believe you can’t live without my cock.”

  She couldn’t. She didn’t know how she’d made it this long.

  Haunted by the expiration date of their relationship, she’d have to savor each moment with him while it lasted. “This counts toward the seven nights, right, Master?”