by Measha Stone
When he’d returned home from picking up the Chinese dinner and found Jessica’s mat replaced by Melody’s old purple one, he’d lost his composure.
She’d tried everything to get him to hold her, to kiss her, and when that didn’t work she’d tried to get him to punish her.
“Melody, the problem isn’t that I don’t want to have love, the problem is I don’t love you!” he finally stated the case bluntly.
She moved away from him as though he had struck her across the face.
“I love someone else,” he said in a softer tone.
She didn’t speak to him. She went to the bedroom and changed into her fluffy pajamas. Her shoulders slumped and her feet dragged; she was deflated.
He’d taken her to the airport in silence. Only when they’d arrived at the security line did she turn to him.
“I’m glad you found love,” she said somberly. “I’ll let you two be. New York is full of men.” She hadn’t tried to hug him, just walked away and stood in line, and Royce had let out a long breath of relief.
The ringing of his phone brought Royce back to the present moment. He hit his knee on the coffee table as he ran to grab it.
“Hello?” His voice sounded eager to his own ears.
“Royce! Hey, there.” His editor friend was on the line.
Royce’s shoulders sagged, as he sat on the couch.
They exchanged small talk before Larry got to the heart of the matter. “I think I received the resume from your friend. Arrived this morning. She doesn’t mention you, but from what you told me of her, sounds like she’s the one.”
“Oh, yeah?” Royce raised his eyebrows. He thought Jessica would at least have let him know she’d completed the project.
“She has absolutely no experience, but her writing and her passion for books shines right through this cover letter. I’ve been trying to call her for an interview, but I can’t get through. Do you have another number for her, a work number maybe?”
“No, not her work. She’s probably at home tonight. I was about to head over there; I’ll ask her to call you.” He walked to the closet to get his coat and was out the door before the line disconnected.
“Mr. Bradford!” The doorman stopped him in the lobby.
“Yes?” Royce said in a hurry.
“I wanted to apologize. I tried to flag your lady friend down, to keep her from going up while you were out. But she rushed right past me. I didn’t catch her in time. When she came back down, she looked…well…she looked as crushed as I’ve ever seen a woman.” He wrung his gloved hands.
“What are you talking about? What lady friend?” Royce was getting impatient.
“Jessica. While you were out getting dinner the other night. She flew in here.”
Understanding hit Royce, knocking the wind out of him. Jessica had gone up to the apartment and was greeted by Melody. He imagined what Melody had said to her. The mat. Jessica would have noticed the purple mat.
He wanted to ring Melody’s neck. But first he would deal with Jessica.
He took off in a dead run down the street.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Will she or won’t she?
Work had been exhausting. The meeting with the plaintiffs had taken all afternoon and had turned her stomach every moment. She’d listened while Jeremy spun his web of half-truths and spewed out flat apologies. All of the papers had been signed. Some of the money would be returned, most of it wouldn’t. None of it seemed legal, but when you played with words as attorneys did, everything was legal.
Royce never left her mind. Always, he sat on the edge reminding her that the pain she felt in her chest resulted from her stupidity. Because she’d let him in. She’d allowed herself to feel.
She’d made it clear from the start; they were casual. No feelings. No expectation of love. She hadn’t listened to her own rules and now she paid the price.
A bottle of wine to go with a new book sounded excellent. She went to her small kitchen to pour herself a glass. A loud thumping caught her attention. She put the bottle on the coffee table on her way to the door. She hadn’t heard the buzzer from downstairs.
Her breath caught in her throat when she looked through the peephole and saw an angry Royce standing in the hallway. His eyebrows were crunched together, his eyes dark, and he was out of breath. He raised his fist to bang on her door again.
She pulled it open. He stumbled to keep from falling on his face.
“Jessica.”
“Royce.” She forced levity into her voice.
“You haven’t been answering your phone,” he accused and entered her apartment.
She watched him take in her home with a little apprehension.
She didn’t want him in the apartment at first in part because she didn’t want that intimacy. Then it became more that she didn’t want him to see her collection.
The front wall could be described more accurately as the front window. Six large windows looked out into the street with a bench acting as storage and seating beneath them. The wall holding up the front door housed a small flat screen television pointed at the secondhand loveseat she owned. The third wall, that also had the entryway to the dining/kitchen area could not be seen, nor the fourth wall. Books lined up from the floor to the ceiling.
Royce stared open-mouthed at the bookshelves.
“I had it on silence today. That meeting closing out the 401k client was this afternoon,” she half lied and pushed the door closed.
He turned to her and held up one finger.
“I was busy and didn’t want to talk.” She folded her arms over her chest. She wished she didn’t care at all that she was standing in her oversized football jersey and her black stretch pants. “What are you doing here? This is out of bounds.” She tried to look annoyed, but she wanted to kiss him. Her chest tightened at the thought of him touching her, after he’d touched that blonde.
“Jessica, I know you met Melody.” He stood in the middle of the room, taking up half the space with his size. “You misunderstand.”
“Oh, no, that’s okay. I told you, I’m not looking for love.” She raised her right shoulder to her ear, trying to appear indifferent.
“Melody is an old girlfriend. She came into town unannounced. She wanted to get back together,” he explained, stepping toward her.
Jessica sidestepped him and grabbed the bottle of wine. A barrier. “Okay, that’s fine.” She hoped she sounded casual.
“I put her on the first plane back to New York,” he added.
“The next morning,” she offered.
“Yes. After spending the night sleeping on my couch.” His tone deepened.
“Okay.” She stared at him with what she hoped was a bored expression.
“You are hiding again.” He pointed a finger at her.
“I can hide as much as I want to. This is my apartment.” Switching the bottle from one hand to the next, she said, “I’ve been thinking. I don’t think this is working for me anymore. It’s been fun and all, but I think we can stop now.” She wondered how her mouth could so easily say things her heart didn’t mean.
His eyes narrowed, and he clenched his fists.
She attempted to look nonplussed. “Melody seems like a wonderful girl. I’m sure she can kneel for you, and take all sorts of beatings for you. I’m not interested.” She swallowed hard and straightened her spine.
Royce slumped. She’d hurt him.
“Okay. I’ll let you have tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow. Pick up the phone when I do.” His voice sounded threatening.
“No. I’d rather you didn’t,” she said to his back, while his hand rested on the door handle.
He froze, and she followed his gaze to the floor. Next to the door sat her shoes neatly lined up on a pink mat, one that matched his.
Royce turned to her, taking his time. His eyes still dark, locked on hers. He was back in control. He was determined.
“Why are your shoes by the door?” he asked, his voice hard.
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br /> “I don’t know,” she lied.
“That’s two, and I told you I wouldn’t give second chances. Tell me what happened with Melody. What did she say?” He removed his coat casually and placed it on the hook behind the door.
She gripped the wine bottle with both hands. “She said you were out getting dinner,” she answered honestly.
“And?” He waved his hand in a circular motion as though to pull the information from her.
“And that you’d be home soon, and she needed to get the table ready.” She lowered her voice unintentionally. Hearing Melody call Royce Sir had been the most painful part of the conversation.
“Tell me what she said…exactly.” Royce stepped toward her, unbuttoning his sleeve.
She tried to fight off the raging emotion that rose in her, but it was too strong.
“She said, ‘Sir will be back any moment and I have to prepare the table,’” she recited out loud as she had so many times in her mind over the past three days.
Royce winced visibly at the word sir. “When she called me Sir—which I had told her to stop doing—how did that feel?” He rolled up his sleeve.
“Royce—”
“Answer me,” he snapped. He did not shout, but his voice was more firm than she’d ever heard.
She took a deep breath. “I hated it.” She put the bottle on the coffee table and sat on the couch.
“Melody is part of my past. She understands that now. You are my present and my future.” He softened his voice and unbuttoned his other sleeve. “I should have told you about her, for that I’m sorry. She’s been sending gifts weekly, and I should have known she wouldn’t just go away.” He stopped in his movements to look her in the eye as he gave his apology. “She tried her damnedest to get me back in her bed. I had no interest in her bed or anything else she offered. She wasn’t you.” He rolled his second sleeve up.
Tears pooled in Jessica’s eyes as he explained. She should have known. She should have given him a chance to tell her all of these things before shutting him out again.
“Now, enough about my lack of communication and on to your transgression.” He walked to her and pulled her off the couch before she could utter a word of protest. “Where is your bedroom?”
“Why?”
“I don’t think the passersby should see your bare ass being tanned.” He motioned to the windows. She sucked in her breath as he stepped toward the dining room. “I’m sure I’ll find it.” He pulled her along and quickly found the bedroom door. It wasn’t difficult—there were only two doors to try.
Once in the bedroom, he kicked the door shut and half shoved her onto the bed. She looked up at him. Too many things were reeling through her mind. He hadn’t gone behind her back. He hadn’t been playing with her heart. He had been exactly what he’d seemed, what she found herself falling in love with.
“Now, tell me again why you haven’t called me back in three days.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
His strong stance didn’t intimidate her. His eyes burning into her, exposing raw feelings and unexplored emotions, jumbled her nerves. “Because I thought you were seeing someone on the side, and I was a toy to you,” she answered with a shaky voice.
He nodded. “You are not a toy to me,” he stated, enunciating each word clearly.
She wiped her eyes. “I know.”
“Why do you keep a mat by your front door?” He barreled ahead.
She took a steadying breath and fondled the bedspread with her fingers. “Because it made me feel closer to you.” His face softened with her answer.
“I’m adding a new rule. If I leave you a voicemail, you have two hours to call or text me back. You are never to disappear like this again.” His voice turned ragged. It was her turn to nod. “I want to strip you down and whip you.” He ran his hand through his hair. His voice sounded rigid. “I should punish you for your lies, and for hiding your feelings and disappearing on me.” He sounded indecisive, unlike him.
“Yes. You should.” She hopped from the bed, pulled the jersey over her head and dropped it on the floor. Her stretch pants slid easily from her body, leaving her completely exposed to him. She stood before him nude, her face hot from her blush. She kept her hands at her sides.
He stepped to her, wrapping her hair around his hand. A rush of sensations ran through her scalp and into her spine. Their eyes met. Then she looked at his mouth.
“So natural,” he whispered, keeping his lips just a breath away from hers. He began to knead her breasts and used his foot to kick her legs apart. His hands traveled down her body and found her wet and ready for him. “I’m not going to punish you now. Later you’ll come to me, and you’ll ask for your punishment.” He thrust his finger into her slick pussy. She grabbed for his shoulders to keep herself steady.
“Not now?” She breathed against his ear.
“No. Now I’m going to fuck you.” He sounded determined. Hungry. He gave her a little shove, and she fell onto the bed.
He peeled off his clothes and returned to her, kissing her belly and making his way up to her mouth. His fingers parted her and danced over her clit.
She reached for his cock and wrapped her slender fingers around his base. He growled into her mouth. She tortured him with slow strokes and delicate pressure while he tormented her with quick thrusts of his fingers followed by a pinch of her breast.
“Please fuck me,” she whispered into the air.
He looked up at her from where he nibbled her breast. “Since you ask so sweetly.” He bit her nipple then moved between her legs.
She bent her knees and held her legs spread for him, ready for his entrance.
“Such a good girl,” he ground out at the sight of her.
He drove into her, and she cried out from the sensation. He filled her completely. They rocked together, in unison. She clung to him with need and anticipation. He cradled her in his arms as he plunged into her wet depths.
“Play with your clit,” he commanded.
She bit the corner of her lower lip, then slipped her hand between them. Her obedience turned them both hotter until they were going to explode with the passion. She rubbed her clit with her middle finger.
One glance at herself playing with her pussy brought her to the edge. He looked down and closed his eyes. She could see he was close too.
“May I please come? Please,” she begged, no longer afraid that he knew her need.
“Yes, come now. Now.” He pumped harder into her, and they both cried out as they fell into oblivion together.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Happily Ever After
Royce sat in an armchair of his apartment, reading a book. Jessica’s passion for books had rekindled his own. The morning after what she titled “The Misunderstanding”, he’d thumbed through her collection of books. The woman who didn’t believe in love had a library of over three hundred romance novels. She would never stop surprising him.
He heard rustling behind him but continued to read. He heard a throat being cleared and turned in his seat.
Jessica stood in the doorway to the bedroom. The ribbon holding her hair in a braid was the only clothing she wore. In her right hand hung his leather belt, folded in half. She walked to him, her hips swaying in the manner he enjoyed.
Reaching him at the chair, she slid to her knees. He watched her take the humbling position she had once declared she would never do.
No, she would never stop surprising him.
She held the belt in the palm of her hands and held it up. An offering.
His gaze remained steady on her. She took a deep breath. His chest filled with pride and with love.
“Sir, I am ready to accept my punishment, if you are ready to give it.”
“I love you so much.” He caressed her cheek.
“I love you too, Sir.”
He took the belt from her hands and helped her to stand. They walked to the bedroom hand in hand.
About The Author
Measha Stone
lives in a quiet suburb outside Chicago with her husband and three kids. She has loved romance novels since being introduced to them in high school. Now as an adult, she has taken her love of romance and thrown in her love of all things kinky and erotic to create her own fantasy world.
To learn more, or contact Measha visit her at
www.meashastone.com
www.meashaswritings.blogspot.com
Follow her @Meahsa_Stone
Like her on facebook www.facebook.com/authormeashastone
Secured Heart
Chapter One
Why, hello there!
The cab pulled up in front of the nightclub at quarter to ten on a Thursday evening. Kelly paid the driver, stepped out onto the sidewalk and looked at the line curling around the club entrance. It would be a long wait. Resolved, she stepped to the back of the line.
As clubs in the city went, Krush met two of her three requirements. The bathrooms were clean and the drinks were strong. It did not meet her requirement of a large ratio of men to women, especially on Thursdays, but she would take her chances.
The swirling colors inside the club took a minute to adjust to as Kelly stepped into the main room. The music she heard during her thirty minute wait from the street vibrated the floor and the walls as it continued to thump the evening away. Swarms of people moved about on the dance floor. While the DJ stood on stage behind his table of cables and spinning records holding one earpiece of a headset to his ear. He wore only a vest with his jeans, tattoos covered every inch of his arms and chest.
“Kelly!” A large hand pulled on her arm, yanking her from the crowd. They reached a small table in the corner of the room. “What are you doing here?” Alex yelled into her ear.
She shrugged in response. “What I always do. What are you doing here?” She yelled back, scanning the crowd.
