by L. Steele
* * *
My phone buzzes.
* * *
Alphahole: I know what you’re doing and it won’t work.
Alphahole: You sure you want to go down this path?
Alphahole: Don’t make me come up there. You’ll regret it.
* * *
My heart beat ratchets up. My pulse begins to race. Don’t give in to him. Don’t.
There’s a banging on the door. I jump.
13
Saint
* * *
The door opens. I glance down, then past the blonde who stands there, to the dark-haired woman who’s captured my imagination.
I tilt my head and she juts out her lower lip. Oh, I’d like to bite down on that glistening flesh and teach her who exactly calls the shots around here. I jerk my chin and she crosses arms.
"Saint."
I look down at the blonde haired woman, "How are you, Amelie?"
She looks me up and down, "you here for Victoria?"
I try to move past her, she plants an arm either side of the door frame. I pause, glance down at her, "Is there a problem?"
She frowns, "you tell me." She taps her foot on the floor, "Is there, Saint?"
Huh? "What do you mean?" I scowl.
"You treat her good." She lowers her voice. "You hear me?"
I meet her gaze, allow my features to take on an expression of sincerity. "Always." I raise my hand, "you can trust me to do what's right for her." I say honestly.
"Amelie." Victoria springs to her feet, then crosses the room. "You were leaving, weren’t you?"
"Was I?" Amelie frowns, then turns around.
Victoria nods, "Yes, you were."
Amelia takes in a breath, Victoria’s gaze widens, and Amelie tosses her head. "Fine, be like that, V, but you owe me."
Victoria’s mouth curves in a smile. Her features light up. I blink. She's fucking beautiful. I want her to smile like that at me. The hell am I thinking? I draw myself up to my full height.
Her green eyes twinkle, "I promise I’ll make it up to you." She says.
Amelie nods. She marches to the crowded table in the center of the room, and picks up a handbag. Turning, she moves toward me. "You better not hurt her."
"Amelie!" Victoria’s mouth falls open.
I chuckle, "I won’t do anything to her…"
Amelie frowns, then jerks her chin.
"I promise." I glance down at Amelie.
"I'll hold you to that." She scowls, then brushes past me.
I straighten, "Nothing that she doesn’t want me to, that is."
Victoria stiffens. "What was that?"
I saunter inside, "Oh, you heard me all right, so don’t pretend otherwise." The door closes behind me with a snick.
Victoria pales.
I prowl forward; she takes another step back.
I reach her and she stumbles to put space between us; her hip grazes the window sill. She stiffens.
"You afraid?"
She raises her head, "No."
I swoop down, grab her waist, and twirl her so she faces the window pane. She squeaks.
I lean in, slap my hands on either side of her, "I hate liars."
"I’m…" her breath hitches, "not lying."
I step back, so quickly she flinches. Then turn my body, so I am at right angles with her. "Last chance."
Her spine stiffens and she shoots me a glance. "Told you, I’m not."
My palm connects with her butt with such force that her body jolts forward and she braces herself on the window. Her cheeks turn fiery. "How…how dare you?"
"Don’t challenge me."
She opens her mouth and I bring my hand down on her arse again. Her shoulders jerk; her breathing grows ragged.
My dick is instantly hard.
She turns around, bites her lips, then her gaze narrows with intensity. She makes a low sound deep in her throat. Her fingers flex. Every part of her tenses, until she’s fairly vibrating with anger.
I chuckle.
"It’s not funny."
"You're right." I draw my gaze from her hair messed about her shoulders, down to the turn of her dainty ankles. "What it is, is fucking arousing."
She pulls back her shoulders, "This is all a joke to you, isn’t it?"
"On the contrary," I flex my fingers.
She swallows.
I crack my neck.
Her pupils dilate.
"I take disciplining you seriously."
She raises her nose, "Forget it, it’s off, it’s…"
"Turn around, face the window."
She scowls.
"Do it."
She firms her lips.
"Now."
She swivels to face forward.
I plant my feet between her legs, shove them apart. Her spine arches and her shoulders knot. I wait…wait… A gust of wind blows through the open window. Her hair flows about her face. She half turns. "Why the hell don’t you—?"
I raise my hand and spank her arse. She huffs. And again. Her knuckles whiten and her face falls forward. "Stop."
"Shut up."
I slap her rounded flesh again and a low moan bleeds from her lips.
All the blood drains to my groin, my cock lengthens, and my balls grow heavy. Jesus, fuck. I’ve barely touched her, and I already want to be inside of her. I need to get ahold of myself. Need to stop her little cries from coiling in my belly, from affecting my presence of mind… Focus, focus, on her. Her needs. What she desires. Only her.
I spank her again and her entire body trembles.
Once more. Her legs buckle. She straightens, then draws herself up to her full height.
"Don’t ever question me again."
She stays silent.
"Get me?"
She jerks her head.
"Say it."
"Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes… Sir."
"Good girl."
Her pupils dilate. Shit, she liked that. I hadn’t meant to compliment her yet. She has to work for it. I have to make this challenging on her, else she’ll see right through me.
"Let’s get out of here."
I pivot, stalk to the door.
"Wait."
I keep walking.
"Wait, please… Sir."
I pause. "What is it?"
"You are aware that you need to get to know me first, right?"
I shoot her a glance. "What does that mean?"
She locks her fingers together, "As a Dom… You need to understand me as a person before you…"
"Before I start training you?"
She nods.
"Too bad, this is how I do it."
She frowns, tucks her elbows into her sides.
"You know you’re acting like a selfish prick, don’t you?"
"Took you this long to figure that out, Sweetheart?"
She brings her fingers up to her mouth, then tucks them behind her back, "So now what? I follow you?"
"Yes."
"What about my clothes, my things?"
"Leave them."
"What?"
I yawn, "Did you forget that you’re mine for the next 30 days?
"I don’t get it, what do we do for this much time?"
I smirk.
She flushes.
"My, my, what a filthy mind you have, my little Gigi."
She draws herself up to her full height, "Don’t call me that."
I plant my hands on my hips, "I’ll call you what I want, when I want, and you’ll answer to it."
She bites her lower lip and my gaze drops to the pulsing flesh. A growl rips from me, "Any more questions?"
She tips up her chin, "I'm not leaving without proper footwear."
Before I can say anything, she marches over to the shoe rack by the door, and exchanges her ballet pumps for stilettos. Images of taking her from behind when she's dressed in nothing but those heels fill my mind. Fuck.
She turns to me.
"Well?" I tilt my
head.
She glances to the side, then back at me.
I draw in a breath. Patience, patience. "Out with it."
“My phone."
I follow her gaze to the device on the armrest of the only chair in the room. "What are you waiting for? Take it with you, will you?"
* * *
Half an hour later, I ease my car up to the curb in front of Selfridges.
"Wow, the place hasn’t changed at all." She peers up through the window.
"Why should it? It’s a hundred-year-old department store; tradition is what it’s all about."
"Is that what you like?" She turns to me, "Tradition?"
"Money." I turn off the engine. "And everything it can buy. That’s what I like."
"Can’t fault your taste in vehicles." She runs her fingers over the dash and my cock instantly twitches.
Fuck, this reaction to her every move is crazy. I reach for the car door, "You like my chariot?"
"Chariot?" She shakes her head. "Whatever. Please don’t answer that. And what’s not to like?" She opens the car door on her side, "It’s a macho car."
"I’m a macho man."
She blows out a breath. "I should have seen that coming." She steps out. I follow suit, zap the doors locked, then walk around to her.
"You prefer to drive yourself?" she asks.
"Always." I glance down at her. "I never trust another man with my possessions."
She brings her fingers up to her mouth, chews on a fingernail. The way her mouth sucks on her digit... Fuck me. The blood drains to my groin. How the hell do I get her to stop that, huh?
I swoop out my hand and grab her wrist. "Bad habit," I growl.
"So are you." She tosses her head.
I chuckle. "We agree on something there." I bring her hand to my lips, suck on the very same fingertip that she had placed inside her mouth.
She swallows, "Uh, can I have my hand back?"
"Never." I lower her hand, weave my fingers through hers because… Why the hell not? Then stalk into the department store.
Once inside, I release my hold on her, instantly missing how her small hand felt in mine. Soft, fragile; to be treasured and protected. Ridiculous. I prowl forward, leaving her to dawdle behind.
She glances around the aisles, the displays, then pauses. "Saint?"
I continue on.
"This is ridiculous," she mumbles.
"What did you say?" I growl.
"I meant… uh! Sir?"
My dick instantly twitches.
"You may speak."
"Where is everyone?"
"Gone."
I increase my pace.
Her footsteps speed up.
"What do you mean, gone? It’s the weekend, not to mention the first week of December. The busiest time of the year for shoppers…"
"So?" I pause and she almost stumbles into my back. My fingers twitch to help her, so I tuck my arms in my sides. She scowls, then draws herself up to her full height.
"So where are the customers, the salespeople?"
"I told them I was coming."
"Ah!" Her gulp is audible. "So…so they cleared out the place?"
"Yep."
She stares, "What about the business they’ll lose?"
"What about the business they’ll gain from me and the rest of the Seven?"
"Right."
She marches ahead.
"Victoria."
She doesn’t turn back.
"Gigi."
Her shoulders stiffen, and I can’t stop my lips from quirking. So fucking prickly.
"Stop or you’ll regret it."
She tosses her head, "I am regretting ever coming to you."
"Admit it. You’re secretly looking forward to what I am going to do to you."
"Yeah, sure, I spend all my days and nights wondering only about that."
"I knew it."
She jerks her head around to stare at me, "Do you believe everything that feeds your ego?"
"Always."
Her gaze widens, "It’s useless having a conversation with you."
I prowl toward her, stopping so close to her that my shoes bump her ballet pumps. "Poor Victoria, always so in control, always knows her mind and what she wants…. Or so she thinks."
She tips her head back, all the way back, "I don’t think, I know."
"What you are, is too damn uptight."
She grits her teeth.
"See, that’s what I mean." I whisper my knuckles over her jaw and her breath hitches. "You’re too focused on containing all of that passion inside of you. You think you want to direct the course of your actions, when all along, you’ve been waiting for someone to come along who can force you to relinquish control."
"And I suppose you think that someone is you?"
"I don’t think so." I drop my head until my lips are poised above hers. "I know so." I close my mouth over hers.
14
Victoria
* * *
Step away, turn away. Break this stupid sham of an arrangement or whatever the hell it is and run the hell away from him. His lips meet mine, fuse, clasp. I will not give in, will not open to him. He swipes his tongue across my mouth and goosebumps flare on my skin. He tilts his head, nibbles on my lower lip. Heat flashes low in my belly. The heat from his body swoops around me, curls into me, draws me closer, closer. He opens his mouth, sucking on mine, asking, demanding, insisting… A groan bleeds from me. I part my lips and he deepens the kiss. He simply takes. His tongue tangles with mine; he drinks from me. Fills my senses with his dark edgy scent, the hardness of his body a shield against the world. The dominance of his posture pushes down on my shoulders, holds me in place. A growl rumbles up his chest, and my nipples pebble into painful tips. My sex clenches; my toes curl. I raise my hands to his shoulders, dig my fingertips into those corded muscles—seeking, wanting. He tears his mouth from mine and steps back. Cool air assails my face, the flushed skin of my neck.
"So, I was right."
I lower my hands to my side, blink, sway. "What do you mean?"
"Your control will be mine, Victoria, " He brushes past me and I shake my head to clear it. By the time I turn around, he’s striding away and toward the elevator. He stabs the button and the doors glide open. Of course, even the cage doors would obey him.
But I won’t. Not if it’s the last thing I do.
He steps inside, then turns, "Coming?"
As I approach him, the doors slide toward each other.
"What the hell?" My jaw drops open.
He jerks his chin up, "See you on the third floor. Don’t keep me waiting."
The doors close, leaving me behind. Asshole shut the escalator doors in my face? I can’t even… How dare he? Anger pulses in my veins and adrenaline laces my blood. I curl my fingers into fists… He did it. Purposely. To rile me. To get under my skin. I will not let him unnerve me. Will not allow him to break through the barriers I’ve put up against the world. Self-preservation. Holding onto what is mine. I won’t let him in. Will never allow him to see the real me.
Oh, two can play this game. He can push. And I can pretend…to give in to him. Enough to get what I want from him: Nina's freedom, and mine. And a little bit more. A piece of myself that only belongs to me. That I’ll never share with him. Yes, that is only right.
I intend to walk away from this mess with a tangible result; one that I can stake a claim on. One which no-one else—not the Mafia, not Saint—can take away from me. That is the way out. The ultimate control over my future and his, and I’ll own it.
I’ll have the last laugh.
I pivot, walk toward the escalators. When I reach the third floor, the same eerie emptiness greets me. Beautiful displays, mannequins with gorgeous dresses. The scent of expensive perfume lingers in the air. Jasmine, roses, and a more seductive note... Pinewood maybe? ...With a darker edge of... Chocolate? I glance around and realize that I have followed the scent up the corridor.
Counters on each s
ide display designer clothes, sun wear, formal clothes. I reach a double door at the end, and when I touch one of the handles, the door slides open. My heart begins to race. I stop at the rack of dresses, drag my finger down the array: green, blue, pink… all colors except black. I reach the end, fingers poised over a vermillion sheath. I hesitate.
"Try it on."
I spin around and watch as the man I’ve come to resent steps through the door. It snicks shut behind him. The hair on my nape rises.
"Go on. It’s all for you."
"For me?" My voice trembles. Hell, I hate that he has this effect on me. And after what he did earlier... Allowing the elevator doors to close in my face... I should simply leave. But what is the point? He’ll simply track me down. No doubt about it. No, best not to show how much he upset me with that gesture, and I’m not sure why. It’s not the worst thing he’s done to me, but maybe I’d expected more from him? Maybe a more gentlemanly approach? Right. Saint may have been brought up in wealth. He may have gone to the best schools. But underneath that cultivated man-of-the-world façade, he is a rake, a man who doesn’t care about worldly pretenses. He takes what he wants. No apologies. Is that what attracted me to him? Not only… It’s the Mafia’s mandate, of course, that I win him over. Although, I’m not sure that’s going to be possible. But I can keep him occupied, take his mind off his work, his business interests, try to keep him close. And this uncomfortable friction between us can only help, right?
He crosses the floor to drop into an armchair positioned at the far end of the room.
"Don’t keep me waiting, Gigi."
A shiver runs down my spine. It’s the first time anyone has had a nickname for me. I’ve always been Victoria before this… Had insisted people call me by my full name. Saint… He’d smoothly transitioned to calling me by a completely different name and somehow it felt… Right? Doesn’t matter. This is all temporary, until I have what I want. For now, I’ll give the devil what he wants… Pretend; that’s all you need to do.
He nods toward the space in front of him. I stiffen my spine. Head toward it.
"With the dress."
I draw in a breath, turn and snatch the beautiful material off the hangar. Soft, smooth, the dress whispers between my fingers. I dig my fingertips into the cloth, then pivot and march to the center.
