Unrestrained

by Hill, Joey W.

  She fixed a polite smile on her face. Larry was a good board member with excellent business acumen, an asset to Summers Industries. It didn’t matter that personally he was a chore for her to handle. In the scheme of things, it was a minor aggravation, one she could manage.

  Larry had never touched her while Roy was alive. Roy didn’t give a rat’s ass about maintaining the courteous Southern façade a woman often did in such a situation. He would have pulled Larry aside on the golf course, told him to stop touching his wife or he’d put a five iron up his ass. And break it off for good measure.

  “As usual, the event has gone splendidly,” Larry noted. “The guests look very happy, and the silent auction totals are already well beyond a hundred thousand. Your foundation is matching whatever’s raised this year?”

  “As always.”

  She was just sorry Roy wouldn’t be there to present the check to the community center that Dale, Neil and Lawrence supported. He’d always enjoyed that part immensely. Not the actual check presenting, because of course the cameras had to be there, a necessary evil to help promote the charity in the community. Roy liked staying after the reporters left to take a personal tour, meet the volunteers involved, and learn even more about what they did. He’d enjoyed making money, but he’d equally enjoyed the results of what could be done with it, large or small. Surprising and delighting her with a rare bonsai, or giving the local Salvation Army a twenty percent budget boost, it didn’t matter. He saw the value in either gesture.

  “I visited the community center you chose to receive the funds this year. They seem in great need of the money.”

  “They are. I hosted an event for some of the boys at my home recently. And the board voted for that, not just me, Larry.”

  “Of course. But you are the tip of the spear, aren’t you?” He gave her a friendly smile that she knew wasn’t really friendly at all.

  “Well, the tip doesn’t get very far without the rest of the spear propelling it.” She glanced past his shoulder. Dale was talking to Matt Kensington, head of Kensington & Associates, and his lovely wife, Savannah, CEO of Tennyson Industries. She wished she was over there. She’d only spent a brief amount of time with Matt and Savannah at events like these, but she’d intended to get to know them better, because their charity interests often overlapped hers. Interestingly, the way the two of them greeted Dale, it was as if they already knew him. She wondered how they’d met.

  “I’m sorry, Larry, I was distracted. You were saying?”

  “I said”—his brow creased, reflecting his irritation at her lack of attention, but he could be like that—“your escort was an excellent choice. Having a member of the armed services here makes Summers look very supportive of the military, always a good message to the community.”

  “Summers is very supportive of the military. It’s why last year’s auction proceeds were divided between the USO and Wounded Warriors, and we had fifty veterans and their spouses attend the event.”

  Larry had no sense of the true significance of that uniform. Or of the sacrifices that went along with it. Dale, a strong man in the prime of his life, had suffered a debilitating injury that forced him to find a new path when his life had been the SEALs. And he had. He’d refused to let his leg give him an excuse to be any less than what he’d always demanded of himself. She thought of what he’d said about trotting his injury and service out to serve a good cause. Hearing Larry talk about it just that way made her understand what he’d meant.

  To add to her growing annoyance, Larry had made his predictable move, sliding his hand from its proper place on her waist. Not low enough to be improper, but low enough she felt the forced intimacy, the touch of his smallest finger on the upper rise of her buttock. It made her want to recoil from his touch. He’d done the same thing when she danced with him at the first of these events after Roy’s passing. He’d invited her onto the floor, leaving her no polite way out of it, but that one dance had cured her of wanting to be in any other man’s arms for the rest of the night. At that time, she’d wondered if she’d ever want another man to touch her, even in passing. She’d ached with longing for the unique intimacy of Roy’s arms around her.

  Over time, though, she’d realized it was just Larry that made her feel that way. Now she knew she didn’t want Larry touching her anywhere that was her Master’s alone to touch. She found herself fighting an overwhelming urge to end the dance with all the tact of a sledgehammer. Fortunately, someone else took care of that.

  “Athena.” Dale was back, and she barely suppressed her sigh of relief. She could certainly handle one middle-aged board member with wandering hands, but the night had been going so well, she resented having to do so. “I’m sorry to interrupt your dance, but Ellen says she needs you for a few minutes, to help sort out a problem with the vendor awards.”

  “Of course. Thank you for the dance, Larry.”

  —

  Dale watched her nod to the man, her gaze meeting Larry’s squarely. Good girl. She didn’t avert her gaze from him at all, didn’t give the bastard any sense he had the upper hand with her. Her dealing with him being an asshole was obviously a regular thing. He’d confirmed that with Ellen when he asked the assistant if she’d be willing to be part of his conspiracy to get Athena away from Larry without making the bloody scene Dale actually preferred.

  The admin had followed his gaze, rolled his eyes. “Definitely,” the woman murmured. “You’d think that married prick would take a hint.”

  As Athena moved away, he and Larry strolled with her to the edge of the dance floor. However, once they stepped off of it, he put out a hand to stop Larry from leaving his company. Athena disappeared in Ellen’s direction.

  “You seem like a very astute man, Larry.”

  The board member paused, his brow lifting. “Excuse me?”

  Dale met his gaze. Larry had blue-gray eyes, and they tended to shift a lot, a common trait in a man who had specific weaknesses of character. “A woman who can care for her husband until his death, run his company successfully even while grieving”—one who has the courage to reach out for love again, though he held that thought to himself—“deserves your admiration and respect. I suggest you start giving them to her.”

  Larry curled his lip. “Is that a threat?”

  “No.” Dale shook his head, offering a smile he knew was more a baring of his teeth. “She doesn’t need me to fight this battle for her. She can whip your ass any day of the week. She proves it with every board meeting, doesn’t she?”

  He shifted closer, laid a friendly hand on Larry’s shoulder, and now his gaze became a lot less friendly, despite the casual pose. “I don’t need to protect her from you in the boardroom or in your business, Larry, but I sure as hell will protect her from any man’s unwelcome advances, because that part is my job. Starting now, the twisted passive-aggressive mating rituals end. She fully recognizes them for what they are, and she and your wife deserve better from you.”

  Larry’s eyes were turning to gray frost, and somewhere inside his misguided brain he was probably thinking about a highly unwise remark. To thwart it, Dale increased his grip on his shoulder, a not-so-subtle warning. “If you don’t listen, you and I will have this conversation again, only there will be a lot less talking. I don’t really give a shit about your lawyers or your money. They only mean something to you, not to me. You take that however you want to take it, as long as it results in one thing—you never putting your hands on her again the way I and everyone else here just saw you do. Including your wife, despite the vodka tonic she just knocked back to try and blind herself to it.”

  “How dare . . .”

  Dale held Larry’s gaze, challenging him to finish the sentence. Whatever the man saw in his face, felt in the grip of the hand on his shoulder, made him shut his mouth. He pivoted on his shiny, expensive shoe and disappeared into the crowd.

  Satisfied, Dale we
nt to find Athena. She’d answered Ellen’s question, some obvious thing the clever admin had made up, and though she was engaged in another conversation, more mingling, he could tell by her casual sweeps of the crowd she was looking for him. It felt good to have that connection with her.

  She was a true Southern lady. A thickheaded idiot like Larry would mistake the unflagging politeness, the genteel manners, for vulnerability. He wouldn’t understand that he continued to be defeated and rebuffed because of the steel core beneath. She understood what he was all about, but she was raised to deal with such things with a shield of politeness, not aggression.

  Fortunately, Dale had a different code.

  Stepping up behind her, he put his hand exactly where Larry had laid his. The easing of her shoulders, her slight shift that pressed her hip and buttock against his leg, made his reaction toward Larry all the more fierce, even as it made him all the more protective toward her. Since he figured he wouldn’t win any points kicking the shit out of one of her board members behind the building, he focused on the latter, stroking her skin, letting her feel he was there, standing at her back.

  Christ, he really was in love with her. Simple as that.

  —

  It was a worthwhile but always exhausting event. The night air was a little cool when they left, so Dale shed his jacket, placing it over her shoulders. When Ellen came out to speak to the departing guests as well, Athena saw her note Dale’s chivalrous gesture. She sent a woman’s smile toward her boss, and it felt good to smile right back about it.

  Athena held the heat and scent of him around her as they got into the limo. She fingered the stripes on the sleeve, felt the faint scratch of the wool against her skin. As he put his arm around her, she leaned against his shoulder, a wonderful thing to be able to do. He didn’t make her talk, recognizing she was tired, and their silence was comfortable. He took her hair down, pocketing the pins, and then played with the strands. His fingers caressed her collarbones and shoulder where the dress left her skin bare.

  She noticed Rex glancing back at them. He was her usual driver with the car service she occasionally used, and he was obviously making the same mental adjustment her staff had been making these past few weeks, seeing her with someone different. The good thing was they all seemed to like Dale. She did, too. Probably far too much for her own good. But he’d said he loved her, hadn’t he?

  She didn’t want to go down the insecure and entirely female path of wondering if it meant the same thing to him that it meant to her. Or how long he would stay with her, what their relationship was about and what he was thinking—Lord, please not that. Pushing it all away, she brushed a kiss against his throat. She slid her arm around his waist, holding him closer as his arm tightened around her. He pressed his lips to her forehead.

  “Tired, girl?”

  She nodded. “Will you stay with me anyway?”

  He touched her chin. “Nope, sorry. If I’m not getting some acrobatic sex from all this dressing up, I’m headed out.”

  His teasing gave her a tiny smile. But as he bent to let his lips touch hers, his blue-green eyes were a tropical night sky. His words, spoken low to share only with her, were serious and intent.

  “I’m with you for more than that, Athena.”

  Her heart beat a little faster, her fingers curling into his side. “That makes one of us,” she managed. “I’m only using you for the acrobatic sex.”

  He chuckled. “Don’t forget about my gardening skills. Those are pretty impressive.”

  “True.”

  She was still smiling as they pulled up to the house. Dale handed over a generous tip before she could reach for her purse. He really was stubborn about some things. It didn’t rankle tonight, though. In truth, there was a part of her that respected his stance on such things, understanding the message he was sending.

  She thanked the driver, then slid across the seat. Dale had exited the vehicle so he could take her hand, help her to the curb. As the car pulled away, he put his arm around her waist and they moved up the steps to the front door, hip to hip. He shifted away to give her room to program in the door code, but she stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

  “It’s thirty-two, thirty-three, pound.”

  He met her gaze, nodded. Keyed it in and opened the door for her.

  Since it was after midnight, the house was quiet and dark, only low-level lighting illuminating the foyer and second-level staircase. She stepped out of her shoes, sighing at the feel of the cushioned carpet through her shimmery stockings. Then she sighed a different way when Dale drew her to him. He slid his hands down her sides, to her hips. He held her to him that way as he kissed her, a long, slow pleasurable drowning. She wanted him in a way that was quiet and intense, overwhelming, like the depths of the ocean. Her earlier words hadn’t been the passion of the moment. She wanted that joining to happen in a specific place and, in this clear moment, she understood she didn’t have to direct things. She could just tell him how she felt and trust he’d understand.

  She reached up, framing his strong face with her hands. “Please make love to me, Master. In our bed.”

  He nodded, bending his head to kiss her again. This one was just as fathomless and swirling as the first, so that every part of her yearned when he finished. He drew back, but only to clasp her hand in his. They ascended the stairs in that fashion, him gripping the railing to balance himself, her holding his hand for her balance.

  Her bedroom door was open. When she was going to be out late, Lynn or Beth always left on the dresser lamp. Athena had draped the shade in a blue scarf to give the room the sense of candlelight. The scarf was new, to go with the new décor Athena had been adjusting over the past few weeks. She’d changed out some of the pictures, moving those Roy had particularly liked to other viewing places in the house, replacing them with prints that might appeal to Dale as well as herself. One of those was the large watercolor over the bed. The painting was nothing but horizontal lines, but it combined all the colors of the sea, slightly wavering, so it was obvious that was what the artist intended it to represent. Dale glanced at it, his gaze sliding over the yellow bedspread, the blue and green pillows and the white area rug.

  “The colors reminded me of your eyes,” she said without embarrassment.

  He curved his long fingers around the side of her neck to draw her to him again. As he kissed her this time, he slid down the side zipper of the dress and then pushed it off her shoulders. The fabric stretched, so that it could be taken to her ankles with little effort. But he wasn’t yet ready to do that. He stepped back, retaining her hand even when they reached the full stretch of their arms. Her breasts were held up on display in adhesive cups that molded to her like a second skin, a necessary accessory to allow for the backless dress. The upper part of the dress was now folded low on her hips, a froth of glittering sequins. She held her breath under the slow, lazy perusal that made her feel like she was utterly his, and he was pleased with what he saw.

  “Take it all off. Everything except my collar. But do it slow. I like watching the way you take off your clothes for me.” Proving it, he sat down on a chair, waiting on her.

  She might have been tired, but there were certain things he could do to her that would revive her body like electricity. Only tonight, instead of a jolt, the feeling lifted her like an ocean wave, a sense of sudden buoyancy.

  She’d played with the necklace countless times tonight, touching the pendant, running her nails under the hold of the choker. She’d been like a girl looking at her shiny new engagement ring, only her obsession was tactile rather than visual. She’d been complimented countless times about the necklace. When one woman recognized the SEAL symbol and the obvious connection to her escort, Athena noticed her eyes and mouth had softened. It was an acknowledgment of the romantic implication, if not the deeper, more potent meaning behind the choker. Her collar.

  Dale’s eyes h
ad flickered over it a few times as well. Once, when they were talking to a group of bankers, he’d had his hand on her shoulder, fingers brushing her nape. He’d slid two of them under the back clasp, tugging on it in a discreet, provocative way. She instantly lost her train of thought. He’d interjected a question, covering it, but then he’d given her a teasing look. The heat in his eyes said he liked knowing that his touch on her collar had been responsible for her distraction.

  Now she slid out of the dress. The little shimmy she made to get it over her hips earned an intrigued look from his blue-green eyes. Emboldened by it, she slid the stockings off even more provocatively, holding on to the bed post as she freed one, then the other. Due to the fit of the dress, she’d worn a thong only, and a low-rise one at that, since the back of the dress was low enough to show the twin dimples just above the seam of her buttocks. Standing in thong and bra only, she peeled away the cups. The underwires had dug into her flesh, but she resisted the urge to massage the deep grooves she was sure they had left beneath her breasts.

  Pivoting away from him, she hooked the sides of the thong and slid it down her legs, bending over as she did so. She walked over to her dresser as if she were floating through water, a sensual creature under his close regard. She laid her undergarments there and removed her earrings, bracelet . . . rings.

  She looked down at the three bands on her right hand. She’d never taken them off, for exactly the reasons Dale had guessed. Until him, she hadn’t been interested in encouraging any advances, and those who knew her widowed status had taken it for the message it was. Well, except Larry, but the man had no respect for marriage.

  Dale was behind her now. His hand slid under her arm, closed over her hand. “You don’t need to take those off, Athena. They can stay.”

  “No,” she said quietly. “Not tonight.” Slipping off the set, she laid them in the crystal dish where she’d placed the earrings.