Vow of Devotion: 2nd Novel Addition (One Urge, One Plea, Keep Me Trilogy)

by Scarlet Wolfe

  “You gotta great woman, Damon.”

  “Yes, and so do you. How are Renee and Isaac doing?”

  “Good. I don’t recall what sleep feels like, but otherwise, they’re great. I think you don’t want to come by out of fear of Renee asking you and Alayna to babysit.” George smirks.

  “I’m sorry. This merger and planning a wedding is taking up a lot of my time, but we wouldn’t mind babysitting occasionally. I know Alayna is dying to.”

  I entwine my hands behind my head and lean back in my chair. “After seeing the bags under your eyes every day, I’m fine with not having my own for a few years.” I smirk back at George, and now he’s rolling his eyes.

  “I just deal with it. The kid is worth it. What else can I say?”

  “I know, but you’re an old man. I can wait a handful of years.”

  “OK, now, you’re hitting below the belt.”

  “It’s probably the most action it’s seen in a while.” I burst into laughter and throw my head back.

  “Ha ha, fucker. I can’t lie; sex is about nonexistent.”

  Jerking upward, I sit straight in my chair.

  “I was joking, man. Are you serious?”

  “Yes, Damon, it’s called sleep deprivation. I can’t say going without has been that difficult. We’re both too exhausted to make the effort. It’s gotten a little better, but we’re far from frequent.”

  “Oh, that sucks. I couldn’t handle that. Babies might have to be off the table completely.”

  George shakes his head. “Every time I think you’re less selfish, you prove me wrong. Trust me. You could do it if you had to.”

  His phone rings, and he’s pulling it from his pocket in seconds. “Hi, Renee. No, I can talk a minute.” George flips me off as he goes out the door. He’s the only one in this building who could get away with giving his boss a big F-you.

  Alayna

  “He wants me to what?”

  “Phillip Channing wants to write a novel with you.”

  “The Phillip Channing. Val, every one of his books are made into motion films.”

  “Why do you think I’m calling?” my agent asks sarcastically. “I have the biggest damn donut waiting here on my desk. Say yes, so I can hang up and eat it.”

  “Yes, a thousand times yes, but why would he want to collaborate with me when he’s abundantly successful?”

  “His agent confided that he is losing some popularity with the younger women. They are sick of his unhappy endings. You write remarkable happily-ever-afters, so here we are.

  “I will email you his contact info. You will probably need to meet up with him a handful of times. He lives in Malibu, California, and will insist on you coming to him. Eventually, there will be PR with signings and television appearances.”

  I’m silent as I imagine giving Damon this news.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “No, not at all.” Oh, that’s such a lie. Damon is jealous beyond belief. I don’t think it’s because of an insecurity with himself. It stems from his fear of losing me. Plain and simple.

  OK, not simple whatsoever.

  “Great, I’ll send you his contact information. Let me know how it goes.”

  Ending the call, I smile. This could be a huge step forward in my career since it will broaden my audience and give me positive PR. Aside from breaking to him the travel details, I’m excited to tell Damon the news, so I dial his cell.

  “Hi, how is your morning going?” I ask.

  “Better now. Did you know that babies cause you to get zero sleep and possibly no sex?”

  I giggle. “I have heard the rumors.”

  “George is more low-key than me, and he’s even struggling with it.”

  “You will make a great father, Damon, and we would adapt to the changes. I promise we will still have sex.”

  “Damn straight, but I’m good with waiting to start a family. I’m still selfish and want you to myself.”

  “That’s sweet–I think. I have some news. Phillip Channing wants to write a book with me.”

  Damon chuckles lightly. “The sappy Phillip Channing?”

  “Yes, but those sappy stories have made him hugely successful.” I hear a sigh.

  “I’m aware. He’s always plastered on the papers, magazines and television. That’s great, Alayna.”

  “I think so, too. I’m waiting on his contact info. I will call him then and work out the details. I will probably have to meet with him a few times.”

  “OK, does he live in New York?”

  “No, Malibu.”

  “Well, I’m sure he can fly here.”

  “Yeah, um, I don’t think I get to make the demands.”

  “You don’t need to be flying off to Los Angeles to see him, either.”

  That tone was rude and uncalled for.

  “I wouldn’t be flying off to see him. It would be to work with him. There is a big difference. If that’s what he requests, then I’m going.”

  “Oh, really? Maybe we need to discuss this further at home.”

  “It isn’t up for discussion. It’s my job, and you should be understanding of this.”

  “And you’re supposed to be my submissive. I’m demanding that you stay here.”

  “We recently agreed I’m to be your submissive when we’re in scene only. Now, when it’s convenient for you, I’m to be submissive outside of the bedroom. Is that what you’re implying?”

  “Oh, there are plenty of times it’s outside of the bedroom, young lady.”

  “You know what I meant.”

  “Touch your garter, Alayna.”

  “I’m fully clothed.”

  “Do it, and I’m Sir.”

  I scrunch my forehead as my pussy becomes wet. Sometimes I wish it didn’t happen this easily. My hand traces over the outline of the garter that shows against my thin, black yoga pants. I sigh as I stand and remove them, along with my thong. I want this, and he knows it.

  My fingers roam over the white lace adorned with oval diamonds and tiny sequins. Balls of pearls roll beneath my fingertips as my muscles tighten, wishing his dick was between them. “I’m touching it.”

  “Are your panties off, and are you in your office?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good, sit in your chair and prop up that leg,” he orders.

  “Done.”

  “Circle the entire garter with your fingers … slowly.”

  “Yes, Sir. I’m doing it now.”

  “Let your head fall back, and slide your fingers inside your cunt. Hold them still, and tell me how wet you are even though I’ve pissed you off.”

  “I’m extremely wet, Sir, and yes, I’m pissed at you.” I’m breathing laboriously through the phone as I battle to keep my fingers still.

  “Are you moving them?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “You may. In and out. Say it to me.”

  “I’m moving them in and out, Sir. They’re sopping wet as I wish it was you moving inside of me.”

  “God, yes, Alayna, tell me what you want.”

  “I want your cock buried deep and tight inside of me.”

  “Fuck, yes, rub your clit.”

  I do as he instructs, moaning and rubbing.

  “Damn, all the sounds have me sliding my hand over my dick, baby. Rub it until you come. Do it just like that.”

  “Sir, I’m com …” My orgasm seizes me, and I’m unable to continue speaking for what feels like a long, glorious minute.

  “You don’t play fair, but I’m still going to Los Angeles,” I finally say as I gasp for air.

  “Go to our room. I’m coming home.”

  Damon

  Every time we have phone sex while I’m at work, I end up at home. I’m tearing into the penthouse before noon as I imagine Alayna naked and sated in our bed.

  While stripping off my tie, she lazily opens her eyes to gaze at me.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “There’s nothing wrong with you traveling to see him. I just d
on’t want to be away from you.”

  My sensual being smiles. “Thank you, and I knew that was why you were being difficult. I love that you miss me when we’re apart.”

  After I’ve removed the rest of my clothing, I climb onto the bed. “Roll over. I’m going to at least entertain the idea that I’m fucking you into submission as I fuck you from behind.”

  Chapter Three

  Alayna

  “Wake up, Alayna.” Hearing my name, I flip open my eyelids. Damon is dressed for work and smirking as he stands over me.

  “It’s five-thirty in the evening. Tell me you haven’t been asleep since I left to go back to work at one o’clock.”

  I yawn. He has to be kidding. I glance over at the clock.

  Shit, how did I sleep this late?

  “Why in the world have I been so sleepy lately? I have to get going. I’m having dinner with Curtis.” Climbing off the bed, I give Damon a quick peck on the cheek and head into the restroom.

  I’m peeing as he knocks on the door. “What, Damon?”

  “I think you need to go to the doctor.”

  “You want to know I’m healthy, and I’m sure I am. I think I’ve been eating too many carbs is all,” I yell from the bathroom. I’m going to be visiting a doctor soon. The thought is now in his head and will reside there until I get a checkup.

  I turn on the shower and sling open the door. Sure enough, Damon is staring back at me. His shoulders are slumped, and he doesn’t blink as he likely assumes the worst.

  “I’m fine, but I will call a doctor in a few days if I still feel this run down.”

  Damon pulls me into a hug. “You’re catching on,” he says.

  “So are you. I think we’re working quite well together. Now, let me shower, so I can see my brother.”

  After my shower, I inform Curtis of how late I’m running, so he offers to drive into the city. I accept since I’ve been making many trips to Long Island to keep his stress alleviated.

  He’s sober and doing well. I can’t remember the last time he had this kind of mental clarity, and I want to keep it that way. But I’m also getting worn down, and it might be from all the running around I’ve been doing lately to ensure he stays sane.

  Picking me up in front of my building, we head south.

  “It’s after seven-thirty, sis. Are we even going to be able to get a table anywhere?” he asks after I slide into the seat.

  “Yes, Damon made a call to Sfoglia Italian restaurant.”

  “Of course he did.”

  “Don’t start, Curtis. He’s been really supportive, considering.”

  The tension my brother is holding on the steering wheel eases up. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I guess he has been.”

  Reaching over, I ruffle my brother’s strawberry blonde hair.

  “Come on, let’s have a good evening. I’ve been enjoying how much time we’ve been spending together.”

  “Me, too.” He glances over and smiles, but I sense some melancholy. From the time he sobered up until recently, he was euphoric about his recovery, but the last couple of weeks, his mood has become somber, and it worries me.

  ***

  “Any luck on the job hunting?” I ask as our waiter sets down our waters.

  “What? Since you asked me two days ago? No, no change. I have to be upfront about my charges, so no one wants to give me a chance.”

  Curtis needs a job. That would make everything better. I’m certain of it. Oooh, maybe Damon could help in this department. I’m not above asking. I will do anything to help my brother get better and experience happiness like I found.

  “I’m sure things will turn around soon. Maybe Damon could find you something.”

  My brother throws a finger out at me, almost knocking over his glass. “No, way. Don’t even think about asking him. I’m not going to be indebted to that man any more than I already am. He could’ve gotten me years in prison if he wanted.”

  “Please, let me ask if he knows of any places hiring.”

  Curtis rubs his cheek and chin with a hand before taking a drink of his water.

  “OK, but only if he knows of any leads. No more help than that. I mean it, sis.”

  “Cool. It’ll be late when I get home, but I’ll ask him tomorrow and let you know.”

  Damon

  “Alayna, what brings you here?” I ask her as she enters my office.

  “Can’t I just come by and say hello?”

  “Yes, but you’ve only been here a few times, so I figured you needed something. Not to mention, you’re spending the afternoon with Felicia, right?”

  “Oh, right. Um, I do sort of need something. Can you give Curtis a job?”

  She grins widely as if that’s going to cut it. A blow job won’t even get her what she wants. “Hell no.”

  Her lips pinch together, along with her light eyebrows. I guess a kinder response might’ve been all that was necessary.

  “Damon, please.”

  “I’m sorry, baby, but no. The man wanted me dead. Drunk or not, any one of us could’ve died that night, and I can’t forget that.”

  Her shoulders lift and drop as if she gave it a good try.

  “OK, well, can you ask around to see if anyone is hiring accountants?”

  I rise from my chair and walk around to her. My hands rub up her arms, and I kiss her forehead. “That I’m willing to do.”

  My intercom beeps, signaling that Helen is calling.

  “Mr. Lear, a Tiffany Kinkade is demanding to speak with you. I’ve tried to take a message, but she only calls back.”

  My entire body stiffens, and I fight the need to clench something since I’m holding Alayna’s shoulders.

  “Threaten to call the cops,” I yell, causing Alayna to jump.

  “No, take the call,” she says.

  “I don’t need to hear whatever bullshit she has to say.”

  “I want to hear.”

  “No, and I mean it,” I say through gritted teeth. “Helen, threaten to phone the police.”

  “Hmph,” Alayna says with her lips pursed again. She pulls free and crosses her arms. “You’re stubborn, and I’m leaving.”

  “Alayna, this is ridiculous. We agreed she was out of our lives no matter what.”

  “Yes, but I don’t believe she would call you at this point unless there was a new development.”

  “One where she has thought of another way to extort money.”

  “You won’t know unless you hear her out.”

  “No, and I’m about to bend you over this desk.”

  “Um, your intercom is still on,” Alayna says with a lift of an eyebrow.

  My eyes widen before I’m stomping to my desk. Helen clicks the intercom off as I reach for it. I look back to Alayna.

  “I have a meeting, but you’re being bent over my desk at home as soon as I get there, so be ready.”

  After strolling to my side, she tilts her glowing, green eyes up to look at me. A smirk plays along her lips as if she has the upper hand, and lashes bat at me. She’s getting too brave.

  “OK, I’ll be ready. I can’t wait actually.”

  Leaning up, she kisses my cheek and walks toward the door. She doesn’t look back before exiting, and I’m at a loss for words. She’s hot when she’s submissive, but I’m finding the unreserved Alayna even sexier.

  Alayna

  “So, was Seth mad you were bringing me to this appointment instead of him?” I ask Felicia.

  “No, he said as long as he can be at the ultrasound he’s fine with it. He’s too busy to take off work today, anyway.”

  My hand covers my stomach as the feeling of nausea hits me. “Alayna, are you OK?”

  “Uh, yeah, I think I’m just nervous for you.” Another wave of heat and nausea crash over me, and I feel sweat beading above my lip. “OK … I’m more nervous than I thought.”

  Jumping to my feet, I fly out of the examining room. My eyes dart from side to side as I scurry down the hallway for a bathroom, but
I’m not going to make it.

  I come to a little cubby area where the nurse takes the patient’s blood pressure and weight, and I spot a small garbage pail. I grab it and begin to vomit. Pulling it closer to my face only makes me gag more, so I throw up harder this time.

  “Oh, god, are you contagious?” an extremely pregnant patient asks as a lady in scrubs brings her toward the confined area. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

  “No, I’m sorry. I think I’m nervous for my friend.”

  The young brunette, with a messy updo, suddenly grins and raises her eyebrows.

  “Maybe you’re pregnant.”

  The nurse or aide, I’m not sure which, gives me a look over and lifts her eyebrows, too, like she agrees this is possible.

  “Oh, no, I can’t be. I get a shot.”

  “That doesn’t mean you can’t get pregnant.”

  “It doesn’t?” I ask, sounding shocked.

  “I think you should be seen, so we can determine if you are sick with an illness … or not,” says the blonde lady in scrubs.

  Oh, no, this isn’t happening.

  “I’m here with my friend. She’s counting on me to be there for her.”

  “Yes, but you shouldn’t be in the room with her if you are ill with a virus. Let’s get you checked in at the front desk and into a room.”

  Leaning over, I read the name on her badge.

  “Look, Nurse Becky, I would prefer to stay in the dark. My fiancé just informed me he would prefer to put off having a family for several years, so the last thing I need is to have to tell him I’m pregnant before we’re even married.”

  My finger is wagging, I’m sweating profusely, and I believe there might be puke in my hair. She points to the chair in the cubby area and then looks to the pregnant woman.

  “Please have a seat. I will be back shortly.”

  Taking the garbage pail from me, she gently takes hold of my arm. “Miss, let’s tell your friend you’re not well and get a pregnancy test. You need to know. We can register you in the room.”