by Tara Sue Me
Not that he thought for a second he might stop her. He couldn’t. Not with the way she played. With Celeste, playing violin involved her entire body. She swayed at times. Others, she held still. No matter what, though, her face was a myriad of expressions while she held the bow and touched the strings as she would a lover.
She kept her eyes closed the entire time, and Lance felt as if he were peeking at a private or intimate moment. Her performance was one of the most erotic things he’d ever witnessed. In fact, music had never aroused him the way it did when she played. Never had he been so thankful for a table. He’d hate for her, or anyone for that matter, to see the erection her playing caused.
He wondered if anyone else had offered her a scholarship and this audition was just for fun? Had such passion filled all of her pervious auditions? Was she always so euphoric while she played? It was borderline obscene, and he loved it. He wanted more of it.
He wanted her.
She held him captive until the last note sounded and even when its echo had disappeared from the room, she held still, not yet releasing him from her spell. Until she moved, he didn’t breathe.
Finally, she opened one eye and then the other, looking around almost as if she’d forgotten where she was. That wasn’t possible, though, was it? She looked toward where he sat, the room's lighting did not allow her to see him, and for a second looked as if he'd caught her doing something naughty.
Holy hell. Did she get turned on playing the violin? He didn’t know, but damn it all to hell, he would find out.
She remained on stage, clearly expecting him to dismiss her. He didn’t feel bad in the least keeping her waiting. Her feet shifted the slightest bit. The small movement was so far the only hint she wasn’t near as calm as she portrayed.
He picked up a paper from the pile in front of him and made it a point not to look at her when he spoke. “You’re twenty-five?”
“Yes, sir.”
Her unexpected use of ‘sir’ sent a shock throughout his body. He opened his mouth to tell her she didn’t have to call him ‘sir’ but shut it just as quickly because he’d have added “Yet.”
He kept his gaze even and uninterested when he lifted his head. “You’re significantly older than most of your peers auditioning today.”
She remained silent, and he nodded in approval. Yes, she would be a fun one. “Why are you only now applying to Juilliard?” he asked.
“After I graduated from high school, my grandmother came to live with us. My mom couldn’t both watch her and do what she had been doing with the family business. I took over my Mom’s role so she could care for her mother.”
“What was your mother’s job?”
“She was the pastry chef at our family’s restaurant.”
Impressive and not listed on her application. “You worked as a pastry chef for seven years?”
“I wasn’t always the pastry chef. Sometimes I waited tables and sometimes I washed dishes.”
He nodded, not interested in the past, and definitely not interested in listening about her washing dishes. “Why the violin? Why now?”
She shifted her gaze to somewhere beyond him, and her eyes took on a faraway look. “Because it’s my time now. My time to stand on my own and to make something of myself. Because I love the violin and nothing would make me happier than to play it every day. And because I don’t want to work in a restaurant all my life.”
And she shouldn’t, he thought. Not with the way she’d just played that piece. Working in a restaurant would waste her talent, and he couldn’t allow that to happen. Not when he had a way to ensure it wouldn’t.
He stacked the pile of papers in front of him and tapped them on the table. What was the name of the woman working on stage who ushered the applicants on and off? She’d introduced herself when he’d first arrived, but he hadn’t made note of it, deciding it was a detail Richard could worry with. Which did him no good since he gave the man the boot.
“Thank you, Ms. Walsh,” he said to the waiting woman on stage and smiled inwardly at the curt nod she gave in response and how she turned to walk away as if he’d excused her. “I did not say I excused you.”
She froze and turned. “But you said -”
“Do not make it a habit to repeat back to me what I said. I have no trouble remembering my words, especially if I spoke them mere seconds before. What I said was, 'Thank you, Ms. Walsh' which in no way sounds like, ‘You are excused.’ Now, move back to where you were.”
While she took the few necessary steps to return to her initial spot in the middle of the stage, he addressed those still waiting and the woman whose name he couldn’t remember. “That’s all for this year. Thank you for coming. You’re excused.” Ignoring the muttered protests, he turned his attention back to Celeste. “See how that works? The ‘you’re excused’ part?”
She gaped at him in shock though. Probably wasn’t hearing anything at all. From the look on her face, everything he said went in one ear and straight out the other. He didn’t say anything else to her. Best she learn from the start how he operated.
The woman with the name he couldn’t remember stepped out the shadows and onto the stage. She held one hand like a shield over her eyes, probably trying to see him better. “Mr. Braxton?”
“Yes.” He knew what she would say, and he didn’t want to hear it. After gathering together the few things he’d brought in, he walked to the stage.
As expected, as soon as his foot hit the first step, she appeared before him, flustered and flipping through pages on a clipboard. “There are three more violinists waiting backstage, and we haven’t even started the brass group and….” Her voice trailed off when she looked up and saw him shaking his head.
“No,” he said.
“No?”
“There will be no more auditions for this year’s scholarship.” Having made his way up the stairs to the stage, he turned to Celeste. “Get your things together and come with me.”
Big Swinging D
Don’t Miss Isaac and Maggie’s Story
Big Swinging D: Term used for the baddest badass on Wall Street. That guy. The one other men want to be and that women just want.
* * *
Maggie Warren has always been unfocused. She hops from job to job, and relationship to relationship. Most of the time, she’s not even looking where she’s going. Which is exactly what happens when she runs into Isaac Gregory, trips over her feet, and dumps a year’s worth of compost all over his hand-stitched suit and one-of-a-kind leather shoes.
* * *
Isaac’s never met anyone like Maggie. She’s nothing like the women he works with, or the submissives he typically dates. Sure, she’s got a knockout body and a wit to match, but she’s a free spirit and hopelessly scattered. He should not be attracted to her. But he is.
* * *
After hearing she’s between jobs, he offers her his recently vacated Personal Assistant position. She readily agrees, but isn’t sure why he’d hire her. He’s her exact opposite: structured, organized, and controlled.
* * *
Boy, does he like control. And it intrigues her, especially when she discovers his private life.
* * *
Isaac’s not surprised when Maggie grows more and more interested in both of the worlds she sees him in: the public boardroom badass and the private well-respected Dominant. He tells her if she’s interested, he has a plan. A plan so hedonistic it could only be proposed by the man nicknamed the Big Swinging D.
* * *
But even Wall Street isn’t prepared for the fallout when the king of control falls for the queen of chaos.
Chapter One
* * *
Usually when Isaac Gregory’s control slipped at work, he’d step outside of his Manhattan office building, walk for a block or two, and return, refreshed, and back on top of his game. Today, though, he could walk to Brooklyn and it wouldn’t help. Matter of fact, if he made it that far, he’d keep going.
He’d e
xpected his first day in three years without Lillian Bancroft as his personal assistant to be tough. Likewise, he’d known she’d be impossible to replace. However, if he’d had any idea how the first half of today would go, he’d have called in sick.
Part of the blame was his. After all, Lillian had given her resignation six weeks ago, leaving him plenty of time to hire a replacement. But, in what he could now admit was a delusional case of wishful thinking, he kept waiting for her to take it back.
Which was why he was on the phone seventy-two hours ago, desperate to find a temp able to start today while Lillian packed up her desk. And, okay, telling the owner and manager of the temp agency, “I don’t care, just send whoever,” was not one of his best moves, even when he added in the fact that it was then he realized Lillian was really leaving.
His concession on that point, however, in no way excused the temp the agency sent over this morning. Just thinking about the mess waiting for him back at the office made his head hurt. In less than three hours, the temp had “assisted” him by deleting two files of documents he needed for a ten o’clock meeting. Files she shouldn’t have had access to, much less been able to delete. Then, because she didn’t want to get in trouble for the deletion, had tried to fix it, and somehow, in a move that stumped his entire IT team, ended up encrypting another.
By the time she tip-toed to his desk at nine forty-five and, with tears in her eyes, whispered she was sorry, but she forgot to tell him his ten o’clock meeting had been moved up to nine, he was done. A quick phone call, and five minutes later, security escorted her from the building.
Unfortunately, not before he overheard her bemoaning to a group of administrative staff she never even got to see if his dick was really big or if the nickname was a misnomer. Fortunately, the rest of the staff knew his feelings toward that nickname and remained quiet.
He glanced at his watch and turned to head back to the office. He had a lot to do and no assistant to help. But on the upside, he couldn’t see how his day could get worse.
Maggie Warren was late. Which wasn’t saying much, she was often late. But today, she was really, really late. She quickened her step, shifting the heavy load of compost while trying to look around the container to ensure her path was clear.
So far so good.
She hated being late.
She blamed the ‘if only.’
If only her most favorite author ever, or one of them, hadn’t released a book today. And if only she hadn’t been browsing online and saw the email alerting her with a link to purchase. And if only she hadn’t decided to buy it and read just one chapter.
Because who could stop at one chapter?
She knew she had to stop using ‘if only’ as an excuse to justify everything. But how could she when all the fun stuff was stuff she shouldn’t be doing and the stuff she was supposed to be doing was boring as hell?
“Like taking compost to the collection site,” she mumbled.
Not that taking the compost to the collection site was all that bad; it was what would happen after she dropped off the compost. Because that was when she had to look for a real job.
She didn’t have to get a job, but after almost a year and a half of working here and there and filling in where necessary, she recognized she needed the stability. Plus, she longed to be in an office where she saw the same people day after day. To be around a group of people she could build relationships with. Maybe go out to lunch or something.
And one day when she was ready, like in five years, maybe she’d find a guy she wanted to have sex with.
God, she missed sex.
Now, however, was not the time to think about sex. Not when she was carrying a massive amount of compost. Sex and compost did not mix well. At least not in her world.
With each step she grew more and more aware of her hands getting slippery. Not to mention how the sun and heat worked together to make the compost smell even worse. She hadn't thought about how she’d desperately need a shower after carting compost. There was no way around it, job hunting would have to wait for another day.
Her favorite thrift shop was just ahead and while she wouldn’t be able to go inside, the owner, Max, always had the most amazing window displays. She’d look at it closer on the way back home, for now she only wanted a peek.
Shifting the weight of the compost, she drew nearer to the window. Max must have gotten in the pieces from the estate sale he’d told her about last week. Once she dropped off the compost, she’d window shop a little and come back tomorrow.
That would be perfect. She’d stop by around noon and take Max to lunch. He had a habit of getting caught up in his work and forgetting to eat since his wife of fifty years died ten months ago.
She turned back around, making a note to call Max when she got back to her apartment.
“Mama, look!” a little boy who couldn’t have been over five yelled and ran past her.
Maggie barely kept a grip on the compost, but she managed, and breathed a huge sigh of relief when it didn’t tumble out of her arms.
What in the world had caused the little boy to run past her like that? She turned her head to see better, but no luck. Maybe if she moved over just a touch…
She hit something hard and unyielding. There would be no save this time. The container fell out of her arms. She watched in horror as it tipped over and the lid flew off. In a matter of seconds, compost covered the hard and unyielding thing, which she now saw was the most gorgeous man who ever walked on earth.
He just didn’t smell all that great at the moment.
About the Author
NEW YORK TIMES/USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR
* * *
Even though she graduated with a degree in science, Tara knew she'd never be happy doing anything other than writing. Specifically, writing love stories.
* * *
She started with a racy BDSM story and found she was not quite prepared for the unforeseen impact it would have. Nonetheless, she continued and The Submissive Series novels would go on to be both New York Times and USA Today Bestsellers. One of those, THE MASTER, was a 2017 RITA finalist for Best Erotic Romance. Over one million copies of her books have been sold worldwide.
Visit her online at www.tarasueme.com
Also by Tara Sue Me
THE SUBMISSIVE SERIES:
The Submissive
The Dominant
The Training
The Chalet*
Seduced by Fire
The Enticement
The Collar
The Exhibitionist
The Master
The Exposure
The Claiming*
The Flirtation
Mentor’s Match
The Mentor & The Master*
Top Trouble
Nathaniel’s Gift*
RACK ACADEMY SERIES:
Master Professor
Headmaster
* * *
BACHELOR INTERNATIONAL:
American Asshole
* * *
THE DATE DUO:
The Date Dare
The Date Deal
* * *
WALL STREET ROYALS:
FOK
Big Swinging D
All or None
* * *
OTHERS:
Madame President
Bucked
Her Last Hello
Altered Allies (currently unavailable)
* * *
*eNovella
