He continued, moving higher with each blow.
She cried out, but after a moment of fear and panic, sank back into the scene. She’d longed for the dull, broad pain of the paddle and knowing that each blow seared her with the word cherished magnified the experience.
“One more.”
“Please,” she replied.
He brought it across the fleshiest part of her, forcing her forward.
Pain exploded.
Then he turned up the vibrator to a high setting and moved in front of her.
“I’m going to come,” she said, the words a request, a whimper.
“Yeah, Zee, in just a second, baby. I want to see you. All of you. No hiding from me, ever.” He pulled off her mask and tossed it toward his bag.
“Sir!”
He put a thumb on her clit and a finger inside her, pressing the bullet against her, seeming to rattle even the plug.
Helpless to do anything else, she ground her heels into the floor.
Then he curled his free hand around the chain running between her clamps and tugged. With that, she went into sensory overload and screamed out again as she climaxed.
“A gag next time, maybe, Sir,” the Dungeon Monitor suggested.
“Are you kidding? And miss that?”
The man gave a thumbs-up and walked off, leaving them alone.
Kennedy turned off the vibe.
The scene had brought them closer, she felt it, hated it, but was helpless to do anything about it. Each time she saw him, she lost a little more of herself to him.
“You’re sensational.” He took the vibrator from her pussy before setting to work on her bonds. Finally, with exquisite care, he unclamped her nipples. “We can go into the restroom to remove the plug, or it can stay until we’re home,” he said.
She weighed her options. “I’ll wait.”
Since others were standing in line for the equipment, he helped her to sit on a nearby couch, then returned to the square to repack his bag and wipe down the club’s equipment.
Mackenzie knew better than to protest when he pulled her onto his lap. This was a battle he always won, and she’d grown weary from waging it. How many more defeats were there in her future?
“As I said earlier, I’m insanely proud of you, Zee,” he said, uncapping the water bottle and holding it for her to take a sip.
With the way her hands still shook, it was probably a good thing he held onto the drink. “That was more intense than anything else we’ve ever done. There were a couple of times I was doubting myself, and you,” she confessed.
“I never doubted you. Or us.” He tugged off his mask before pulling back on her hair. “Zee, I’m in love with you.”
“In…”
“Love. And I want us to get married. The timing isn’t roses and champagne, but I’ve told my family and—”
“Kennedy. Don’t. Please.” She scooted away, sloshing water all over the couch. “Please, stop. We agreed.”
“You agreed,” he countered.
At some point, she’d have to admit the truth to herself. It was getting harder and harder to resist him because he was wearing her down. Every time she saw him, hung out with him, she became a little weaker.
She wasn’t just addicted to his delicious dominance. She was addicted to him.
It destroyed her, but she knew she had to end this. He was larger than life, everything she’d told herself she wanted. Unyielding and caring. But that came at a cost.
Mackenzie wasn’t wired to enjoy living life under the microscope of press scrutiny, black-tie events and familial expectations. She didn’t want to have to go into a building through the back entry, dash through kitchens, use freight elevators.
The loss of her personal life would be complete if she married him. He’d end up seeing the truth eventually then regret what had happened. Hell, even she’d seen the fallout from his breakup with Chantelle. When this ill-conceived marriage of theirs didn’t work out, it would be tabloid fodder.
And the real truth was, right now, she was unattainable, and that made her more desirable. They were good together in D/s scenes, but that wasn’t enough. He was in lust, and that was no basis for a relationship. “Can’t you see? You’re being insane. I’m not the right kind of woman for you.”
“And what is it you think I need?” His voice stung like a lash, deliberate and nasty.
“Someone ready to settle down and have children. We’ve talked about this. Someone with a much better pedigree, whose family empire can merge with yours. Imagine the glee the press would have when they uncovered my past. And when you finally realized I was right?” It would crush her. Refusing him was the right decision for both of them. “Kennedy, I’ve told you. I’m sorry. I… I…”
She floundered and he didn’t help her out.
He folded his arms across her chest. Implacable.
“One day, you’ll send me a thank-you note.”
“Like hell. You think I’m not seeing this correctly, well let me tell you what I do see. You’re exactly the right kind of woman for me. Loving. Concerned. Kind. I’ve seen you with your friends, I know you even take care of the neighbor’s dog. You’re smart. You’re submissive.”
She put a little more distance between them.
“You’ve taken everything I’ve given you physically. You’re stronger than you think you are. Even when you don’t think you can do something, you turn to me. Together, we get you through it. You’re bolder than any woman I’ve been with, a constant delight and surprise. I will never forget seeing you, naked and spread for me on the patio. Then again, at the Old Bronwyn Building. You wore that lingerie hoping I’d see it. Tell me I’m wrong.”
She said nothing.
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
“No.” The word had lodged in her throat. “I did hope you’d see the outfit. I bought it more for you than for me.”
“Here’s what else I see, Mackenzie…” His gaze seared her. “You’re an emotional coward.”
She recoiled.
“Harsh words? Not as harsh as having the perfect woman for you turn up her nose and refuse your proposal again and again. You use your single and loving it mantra as a shield, not as a motto. There’s nothing wrong with being happy by yourself and being complete unto yourself. You were. You are. You’ve gained a lot, learned a lot and no doubt grown a lot. It’s all made you into the woman you are. The woman I love. But you have to ask yourself this, is a lifetime of being alone, the potential loneliness and isolation, better than the idea of taking a risk on love? When you’re ready to let down your shield, call me.”
He stood, putting real distance between them.
“But know this, I’m done playing by your rules. I want a relationship, a real one like mature grown-ups have. We don’t have to get married right away if that scares you. We can go slowly, but you do have to admit to me, your friends, family, co-workers, the world, and most importantly to yourself, that we have a relationship. I won’t settle for less.”
His words stripped off a piece of her heart. “I think you should take me home,” she said, voice raw with unspoken emotion. “Unless you’d like me to call a cab?”
Chapter Eleven
“Mackenzie Farrell,” Julien said.
“I beg your pardon?” Kennedy looked over at one of his truest friends. The Night of Infamy had bound them more surely than anything else could have.
Right now, Julien looked absurd.
They were both poolside, stretched out on chaises longues at an exclusive resort in Mexico. La Playa del Sur was owned by a microchip manufacturing company that hoped to earn Julien’s business, even a tiny sliver of it. During the peak season, the place was packed with tourists. But this weekend, thanks to Julien’s star status and the fact that it was the off season, the resort was playing host to Reece’s bachelor party.
So far, only he and Julien had arrived.
Svetlana had been sent to fetch Grant from his cave in New Mexico. Kennedy suspected
Grant had stalled on purpose, just hoping the Russian spy would be sent to collect his skinny ass.
Reece was still en route, scheduled to arrive within the hour.
So he and Julien each had a personal waitress and limitless mojitos, and they were enjoying the reflection of the sun off the pool water. Right now it was a pleasant change from Boston’s frozen tundra.
“Your shorts and T-shirt are killing me, man,” Kennedy told Julien.
“I think it’s the sun. No clouds. Makes it worse.”
“No. I think it’s the clothing that makes the clothing look hideous.” The orange shirt had probably had sleeves at one time, but someone had lopped them off with a pair of scissors, transforming it into a hacked-up, psycho tank top. “You could have worn black shorts.”
“These were handy.”
These being a pair of lime green basketball shorts from a favorite team. They hung down past his knees. He’d added magenta sandals and a purple hat. At least it had Aldrich Enterprises logo on it. “Wait. That color sucks. I didn’t give it to you.” He thought back through the years. “Did I?”
“No. I took it when I was in your dad’s office one time. I think we were nineteen or something. I needed something to hide the bottle of booze I also procured.”
“Stole.”
“It wasn’t like I didn’t intend to return the decanter. Anyway, Mackenzie Farrell, codename Dar in the scene, which is short for Darlene, after her paternal grandmother.”
“What the fuck?” Kennedy sat up.
“She has a decent education, no pedigree, one cheating, loser of an ex-husband, a step-mother, a stepfather, a dad who’s on marriage number three and six thousand various step and half-siblings and some that are no longer steps, but I don’t know if there’s a name for that or whether that means they should be counted or not.”
“You’re a man of vast intelligence.”
Julien lifted his glass in acknowledgment.
“But questionable dress.” Though Mackenzie would say the same about him. If he hadn’t had three mojitos, he might be pissed at Julien and his nosy meddling. But since the fourth drink was now being delivered by a waitress who was wearing little more than a smile, he was more inclined to forget annoyance. “I’m curious.”
“Karyn did the legwork, though I’d like to take credit for it. She liked Mackenzie when she met her at the gallery said it was the first time you’d ever admitted you were actually into someone. She was afraid you might fuck it up with your usual prick-headed moves.”
“Karyn said that?”
“I might have embellished,” Julien said. “But I’m sure that’s what she meant. She was afraid you were going to be kinky as fuck and that Mackenzie would run and tell all to the gossip rags. Two broken engagements in as many months? The tabloids would chew you up and spit out your dick. Hellllllllo, darling.”
Julien’s waitress had returned with another mojito though his was still half full.
“Trade you,” she said. “You’re so hot, I know your ice has melted.”
“He’s so hot?” Kennedy asked. He lifted his sunglasses. “I think you’re confused. It’s the reflection from the shirt.”
The woman giggled. “I meant it’s so hot. You know. The weather.”
“The weather,” Kennedy repeated when the woman moved off.
“I thought she liked me.”
“I’m sure she does. All that fashion sense. What’s not to love?”
“Exactly right. So what gives with your non-girlfriend girlfriend? I want every last dirty detail.”
“None to give. She decided she wasn’t the right one for me and that I was too demanding for her.”
“You don’t say?”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“How fast did you move? Did you give the woman a chance to breathe, or did you tie her up and beat her and try to drag her off to your lair?”
Kennedy winced. It hadn’t been like that. Had it?
Without waiting for an answer, Julien continued amusing himself. “I would like to hear more about the tying up and beating part. What does she like best? The snappy bullwhip? I always wanted one of those. And I wanted to wear it on my hip, like old-fashioned sheriffs did with their guns.”
“You wanted to be like that Harrison Ford character.”
“Not at all. I wanted to be able to do things like, oh, remove a woman’s buttons at ten yards.” He took a drink. “Before I melt my ice.”
Julien’s words were still tumbling through his mind and he was only half-listening to the man’s monologue.
“The glasses?” Julien asked.
“Sorry,” he said, tuning back in.
“I know you hate the outfit.” He took off his shades. “But the glasses are okay, right?”
“Hold on. Are those regular sunglasses?” He recognized the brand name, but there was a bump on the side, near Julien’s right eye.
“Been watching porn while you were somewhere deep in the remorseful depths of your psyche thinking about the voluminous mistakes you made with one Mackenzie Darlene Farrell.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“About the porn? Or the fact that Karyn was right and you fucked up a potentially good relationship?”
Grant and Svetlana arrived. Kennedy wasn’t certain what had happened between Santa Fe and La Playa del Sol, but Grant was grinning like a man who’d had a frontal lobotomy, and it wasn’t until after she’d left and his second drink had been consumed that he was able to use his voice.
“Glad to have you with us,” Julien said, gazing at the waitress sent just to take care of Grant.
“You look like hell,” Kennedy observed.
“The Genius wants me to bend the Theory of Relativity. That assignment’s a bit tricky.”
“I think I should reassign you to something we can get to market a bit quicker. A new idea I’m thinking about. Game changer. I think you need a break,” Julien said.
“What a fucked-up thing for you to say,” Kennedy returned. “When was the last time you slept?”
“What day is it?”
Julien was bizarre in his sleep habits and eating habits. He could go for days on celery and peanut butter, though Julien insisted that wasn’t true, just an Internet rumor. Some days he had almond butter instead.
When Reece finally arrived, Julien had already taken a nap. Grant had changed into trunks that were a normal navy blue color and was cutting through the water, lap after lap, making Kennedy a bit dizzy and feeling like a slacker.
Reece accepted a drink and grinned when Julien proposed a toast. It was clear Reece couldn’t be happier than to be heading down the aisle.
Though he was delighted for his friend, and gave himself part of the credit for the reconciliation, Kennedy was wallowing. He’d told Mackenzie he had no interest in winning skirmishes. He wanted to win the war. And the war was for her hand in marriage. Now, though, he was wondering if he had made a tactical error. If so, what the hell was he going to do about it?
“After you regale us with all the wonderful stories of your upcoming nuptials, we’ll get on with talking about Kennedy’s shattered heart.”
“I brought Scotch for that,” Reece said. “I think I need to repay a favor.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Kennedy said.
* * * *
“Touchdown!” Bella screamed.
Without much enthusiasm, Mackenzie clapped for the Patriots.
“Did you see that pass?” Bella demanded, as if Mackenzie hadn’t been in the same bar, sitting across from her. “Did you see it? Right into the end zone!”
She lifted her glass and Bella took the distraction, clinking the rims together.
“Bet you could sell that jersey right this minute and pay next month’s mortgage,” Bella said after taking a hearty swallow.
Though she’d told herself not to, she’d worn Kennedy’s jersey.
True to his ultimatum, she hadn’t heard from him.
After he’d dropp
ed her at home following their scene at The Hub, she’d spent half an hour in the shower. It had taken forever to get the plug out, and it had burned worse, she was sure, because she hadn’t been able to stop shaking. The next day hadn’t been any better. She’d carried her telephone with her from room to room, convinced he’d contact her.
Even though they’d had a previous disagreement, he’d helped her get in contact with Niral. And he’d texted her right before the meeting, letting her know he was thinking of her.
But not this time.
Monday morning, she’d followed all the rules that accompanied a quick break up. She’d deleted his old text messages, removed his contact information from her phone and even deleted his private email address. She’d cleared her browser search history so the sites she’d looked at for information on him were not easily accessible.
None of it had helped her get over him. It just meant that her phone went everywhere she did, just in case he reached out.
“All right,” Bella said. “What gives?”
“I’m not sure where to start.” Absently, she traced the design on the coaster.
“How about with the obvious? Where’s Kennedy? I thought he’d come with you.”
“I have no idea,” she confessed. “We haven’t spoken for three weeks.”
“So what happened? He seemed like he was really into you.”
“He was. Is. I think.”
“And?”
“He proposed.”
Bella had been lifting her glass to take a drink and she stopped. Slowly she put it back down. “So? He did that every day.”
“Yeah.”
“So what the hell is different this time? And why the hell are you moping?”
“I said no.”
“Like no, no? Like as in, don’t ask me again?”
Mackenzie sighed miserably.
“Okay. Let me get this straight.” She put a finger in her ear as if trying to clear it out in case she hadn’t heard correctly. “Kennedy Aldrich is one of the richest men on the planet, not to mention, he’s nice, decent, into your kinky shit, and he’s not a troll. He’s not a troll, is he?”
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