Bejeweled and Bedeviled

by Tiffany Bryan

  “Okay. Just tell me when and where to show up with my bags.”

  He leisurely unfolded from the chair. “I like to start off slow and I also believe in a reward system. Your first gift, for agreeing to place yourself under my tutelage, will arrive tomorrow. I hope you will like it. You’ll receive further instructions then. For now, all that remains is for you to come here and kiss me goodbye.”

  She hesitated before saying, “Yes, Master.”

  “Hunter,” he corrected as she made her way over to him. “If and when I want you to call me Master, I’ll let you know.”

  “Yes, Hunter.” Refusing to portray a lamb going to slaughter, she stretched up to wrap her arms around his neck, pressed her lips to his and, with an enticing slice of her tongue, slipped into his receptive mouth.

  Had he not wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed her tight, she most likely would have melted to the floor.

  Holy shit, the man could kiss. A strong, laying-my-claim kiss that rocked her world and made her grateful for the few seconds of steadying support he provided before pulling away.

  “One more thing before I leave.”

  Unable to form a coherent word, she nodded.

  He hooked her chin onto his index finger. “If you ever keep me waiting again, for any reason, your delectable ass will take the brunt of my displeasure.”

  Chapter Two

  When the elevator doors opened to TLI’s lobby at nine the next morning, it took Kayden several seconds to realize the high-pitched whirring noise she heard was not the byproduct of sleep deprivation.

  She’d spent half the night fretting over her relinquishment of control. The other half in the throes of some very erotic fantasies centered around the heartthrob Dom to whom she’d literally given a free pass to every nook and cranny of her body. The two hours since awakening in a sheet-twisted sweat she’d wasted trying to figure out which caused her the most apprehension.

  Knowing either would take deeper thought than she was currently capable of, she focused on the more mundane issue of noise.

  Since it usually took building maintenance days to get to any reported problem, whatever had them up drilling this early didn’t bode well for the quiet, appointment-free morning she’d contemplated.

  Not in any particular hurry to hear whatever bad news awaited her, she peeled her slumped body away from the back wall of the elevator and trudged through the spacious area that served as both waiting room and secretary’s office.

  Halfway there, one of her other senses kicked in. Was that the smell of coffee being freshly ground? Her brain cells perked up at the heavenly aroma of a rich, strong blend.

  She wasn’t sure how much of the office’s slush fund Shayla had blown on what apparently was a new espresso machine, but whatever it was, Kayden’s exhausted body was casting its vote for who gives a shit, it’s worth every damn penny.

  Hastening her steps, she breezed past Shayla’s unoccupied desk and into her office. “You might’ve just earned yourself a raise, Shay—”

  Her sluggish brain taking its good old time to shift gears, words failed her as Kayden swiveled her gaze between her shoulder-shrugging secretary and the man looking every bit like a five-star restaurant maître d’. It wasn’t until he’d packed down the finely ground beans, attached the silver cup to the gleaming stainless machine, switched it on and straightened to look her way that she found her voice. “Who the heck are you?”

  “Good morning, Miss Starling. Chalmers, at your service.” He dipped his head in greeting. “Mr. Trielle is a firm believer in starting the day off with a good breakfast. “Please, have a seat.” He glanced in the direction of the small, round conference table in the corner of her office. Usually groaning beneath stacks of old projects to be filed with only a small space at one edge to work on the current one, it was now buried beneath a white linen tablecloth and an assortment of fine-dining paraphernalia.

  “I don’t eat breakfast,” she grumbled, prying her gaze away from the small, black-velvet box propped against the White-House-worthy five-arm candelabra. “Where’s the stuff from my table and how did you get up here?” Legit questions, since she knew it hadn’t been her secretary. Accustomed to Kayden’s cluttered work style and a habitual night owl like herself, Shayla wasn’t prone to arriving much before her starting time.

  “Since the folders were clearly marked, I took the liberty of filing them away. You’ll find the rest of your papers there.” With an economical movement of his hand, he indicated the wide ledge that ran the length of the windowed wall facing Lake Michigan. “Mr. Trielle says clutter is not conducive to serenity.”

  Had the intrusive Mr. Trielle been present, Kayden would have informed him it wasn’t the clutter that was playing havoc with her serenity, it was him. Along with all the things she anticipated he was going to do to her.

  “Mr. Fuller was kind enough to give me access to your office. Under Mr. Trielle’s assurance that should there be any ramifications, they would fall squarely on his shoulders.”

  Struggling to dispel the image of those wonderfully broad shoulders and how far she’d have to spread her legs to accommodate them, Kayden was slow to process the rest of Chalmers’ statement. “Mr. Fuller?”

  “Jimmy,” Shayla supplied.

  “Remind me later to have a little talk with our security guard.”

  “I assure you, Miss Starling, that won’t be necessary. Mr. Trielle—”

  “It’s Kayden. And this is my office. Not Mr. Trielle’s.”

  Instead of voicing the contradiction revealed in the slight shift of his expression, he said, “Very good, Miss. If you will please sit, I’ll serve you breakfast.” He turned and lifted the silver dome off the platter sitting on the cart behind him.

  Kayden nearly closed her eyes and ummmed over the mouthwatering smell of eggs, Canadian bacon and…oh crap, was that a Belgian waffle beneath a mound of fresh strawberries supporting a white, fluffy mountain of whipped cream? The scrumptious sight almost made her cave. But she needed to bring home the point that this was her place of business and no one was going to come in here and dictate to her.

  “I told you, I don’t eat breakfast.”

  Before he could say anything, Shayla’s stomach growled and drew their attention.

  “Sorry.” She smiled sheepishly. “Guess the small bowl of cereal I had before rushing out of the house didn’t quite do it.”

  “I have the perfect solution.” Kayden turned to Chalmers. “Shayla can eat the breakfast while I sit with her and have my coffee. Then you can inform Mr. Trielle that the meal was thoroughly enjoyed. Problem solved. Come on, Shayla, let’s sit down.” Intending to set her purse on the desk, noting it too had been cleaned, Kayden was stopped in her tracks by his next words.

  “I’m sorry, Miss. Mr. Trielle was specific in that you eat the breakfast. He believes that one’s body—”

  “Look, Chalmers. Your loyalty to Mr. Trielle is commendable, but maybe I didn’t make myself clear earlier.” Kayden fought to keep the irritation out of her voice. “This is not Mr. Trielle’s office. And this,” she poked herself in the middle of the chest, “is not Mr. Trielle’s body.”

  The last part netted her a raised eyebrow. Okay, so what if he did know of her arrangement with his boss. This was her turf. Over this world, she was master.

  About to tell him as much, she noticed both his and Shayla’s gazes fixed on something over her shoulder. Shit.

  “Good morning.”

  The deep, quiet voice that flowed into the room curled down her spine and infused heat into every crevice of Kayden’s body. Chin lifted, she spun to confront her nemesis.

  Smacked with the realization the man looked every bit as handsome, commanding and sinfully sexy as she remembered, her throat constricted, cinching off her words.

  “Perhaps it was I who didn’t make myself clear yesterday.” His gaze never leaving hers, he said, “Chalmers, the staff’s breakfast should be arriving at any moment. Why don’t you con
fer with Shayla on how best to have it served?”

  “Very good, sir.”

  “And Shayla,” Hunter said as he shifted slightly to let them leave. “Would you be kind enough to hold all of Miss Starling’s calls?”

  “Kayden?” Shayla, God bless her loyal soul, turned to her for confirmation.

  After a defiant hesitation, Kayden nodded. “I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

  * * * * *

  Once assured of their privacy, Hunter stood where he was for several long seconds, his gaze fixed on the stunning, stiff-chinned woman in front of him as the need to reach out and grab her diminished. An urge that had more to do with the lust hardening his cock than the sparks of open defiance in her sapphire eyes.

  He hadn’t been completely honest with her yesterday when he’d said one look into her eyes was all he’d required to assess their suitability. He’d known long before that. Blatant to him from the intriguing revelations hidden between the lines of her over-explained e-mails, she’d given every indication of being the kind of challenge a man of his high expectations would relish. So he’d accepted her offer. Not for the sake of some article. And sure as hell not for the sake of readying her for another man’s benefit. He was doing it because she would belong to him. Not for a month. Forever.

  “Look, I think we need to get something straight,” she said, legs slightly parted, fists jammed onto her nicely rounded hips.

  Hunter was sure it would make her even more agitated to know rather than appearing powerful, he pictured her naked, her wrists clamped to a thick leather waist restraint, ankles to a spreader bar. A position that left her helplessly exposed for his personal pleasure.

  “This is my office. You said I’d have ample time to confer with my staff.”

  “I believe the exact phrase I used was allow you.” He walked over to the table and pulled out her chair. “And you agreed to total submission.”

  Her eyes lit with another spark of defiance but instead of acting upon it, she took several deep breaths and relaxed her stance.

  “Yes, I did agree. When I’m at your establishment.”

  “There is no wiggle room in the word total. If you check the dictionary, I believe you’ll find it means complete…utter…absolute.”

  “I’m not disputing that,” she said, holding her ground. “I assumed—”

  “Assuming anything is no longer an option available to you. If you have the slightest question or doubt about anything, you will check with me for clarification.”

  One fine eyebrow arched up. A sure sign her defiance was once again about to ignite. “You’re serious.”

  “Emphatically. Now unless you intend to renege on your word, come here and I’ll serve you breakfast.”

  She didn’t immediately comply. Not that he expected her to. A strong-willed woman in a position of power, she was used to having people answer to her. The role reversal wouldn’t come easy. She would likely resist every step of the way. Rather than irritate, the thought pleased him more than she would know.

  Her deep, resigned breath accentuated an already impressive cleavage as her breasts swelled into the constricting space of her partially unbuttoned shirt. Like a near-white moon nestled in a midnight sky, the dark blue silk of her shirt provided a stunning contrast to her pale skin.

  Knowing every inch of that sweet flesh now belonged to him, to explore whenever, wherever he wanted, should have tempered his need to see her stripped of everything but the remnants of her stubborn pride. It didn’t.

  “I have never gone back on my word,” she said, slowly moving toward the chair.

  “I can’t tell you how pleased I am to know that.” She was halfway seated when he said, “Don’t sit.”

  She straightened.

  “Are you wearing pantyhose or stockings?”

  “What? Yes, pantyhose.”

  “Take them off and give them to me.” He held out his hand.

  Her eyes widened. “You expect me—”

  “Kayden.” He let his disapproval ring through. “I refuse to believe you are ignorant of the fact that, as your Dom, I expect obedience. Not after boasting of your detailed research. Therefore, if you continue in this vein, I’ll assume it’s because you want me to punish you. If not, I’d strongly advise against making me wait longer.”

  Having made an art form of studying the subtle nuances of a woman’s body, Hunter didn’t miss the slight tensing of her jaw. He had no problem with her harboring a bit of resentment. He expected it at this early stage. Welcomed it. Years of experience had taught him the subs that proved most difficult were always the most gratifying.

  He extended his hand farther. “For earning my displeasure, I’ll take your panties too.”

  “My—” She glanced at the door and turned back. “What if—”

  He narrowed his eyes.

  She captured her bottom lip between her teeth and slipped out of her shoes.

  Silently applauding her restraint, he made a mental note to take her shopping. Practical and low-heeled, the shoes did absolutely no justice to her trim ankles and shapely legs.

  He knew she was worried about someone walking in. He could have eased her discomfort by letting her know he’d reached behind him to lock the door when Chalmers and Shayla had left. And he would have, if he hadn’t gotten the impression she enjoyed pushing him.

  She was going to be deliciously difficult to train.

  * * * * *

  Kayden bit the inside of her cheek to keep from arguing further. Lord knows what he’d ask for next. Most likely her skirt. Then she’d be two measly articles away from naked.

  Not that she would have minded had the circumstances been different. Trista hadn’t exaggerated when she’d said Hunter was gorgeous. Over six feet of well-packed muscle stuffed into a black turtleneck that intensified the gold hues of his eyes and beige pants that hugged a trim waist and thick thighs. Had he not already been rich, he could’ve made a lush living modeling for any number of top men’s fashion magazines. With the rapidness of a photo shoot camera, her mind pictured him in various stages of undress. Tux. Polo and jeans. Just jeans. Swim trunks. Naked.

  Her thoughts came to a screeching halt. Damn. Fully clothed he could have half the female populace of Chicago dropping their panties with the crook of his finger. She could only imagine their reaction to seeing him naked. That she would soon have that privilege—

  Already off balance trying to get one foot out of her pantyhose, she teetered and threw out her hand to catch the back of the chair. Instead, she latched onto a thick, solid forearm when Hunter thrust out his arm.

  Startled, she looked up.

  When she was stable, he withdrew his arm and asked, “Better?”

  She nodded.

  “Among the many things you will need to learn is that when I ask a question, I will expect a verbal answer. It will eliminate the chance of misunderstanding in the future. Another is that from today on, in all things, you will look to me for support. I will always be here to catch you.”

  “I’m not used to depending on—”

  “You will be.” He skimmed the backs of his fingers down her cheek and along her jaw.

  Oddly calmed by the tender gesture and not quite sure what to say in response to his declaration, she focused on her task and freed her other leg. Silently bemoaning the loss of her pantyhose, she offered them to him.

  “Thank you.” A small smile stretched his lips as he accepted them, balled them up and, with a light toss, made a perfect two-pointer into her waste can.

  “Hey.” She stepped forward.

  He grasped her wrist. “Leave them.”

  Kayden shot an annoyed glance at his hand before transferring it to his face. “Those were brand new.”

  His brow rose in warning.

  “Fine. I’ll leave them. I have plenty more at home.”

  “Where they will stay,” he stated evenly. “As long as we are together, you are forbidden to wear them. Now the panties.”

&n
bsp; Shaking her head, she stepped back.

  Still in possession of her wrist, he reeled her back in.

  Braced for a scolding, she was struck motionless when he laid gentle hands on her forearms.

  “I wonder what it is you are so afraid of.” He slid his hands up and over her shoulders to bracket her neck. “That you won’t like submitting…” He lightly traced the rims of her ears with his thumbs, his eyes warming at her resultant shiver. “Or…that you will?”

  He claimed her mouth for a mind-numbing kiss. Had he not, Kayden would’ve said that for someone who supposedly knew women so well, he was way off base this time. Of course, it would have been a lie. The truth was he was much too close to the truth for comfort. Because in a forgotten place, deep down where she’d buried it a long, long time ago, stirred the scary suspicion that he was right. Then as now, unwilling to face her fear, she surrendered to his kiss, the slow, languid swipes of his talented tongue. His large, capable hands spreading warmth as they slid down over her arms, then under them to capture her hips and draw her close.

  The unexpected nudge of the long, solid ridge of flesh that met her stomach made her gasp.

  He pulled his head back, his soft, throaty chuckle stirring butterflies in her stomach. “The sooner you stop fighting me, the sooner we can get beyond the basics and onto the more…pleasurable aspects of your being my submissive.” Holding her still with his hands, he put his mouth next to her ear and whispered, “You want that, don’t you? To have your pussy played with—filled.” He nipped her earlobe at the same time he thrust his hips.

  Kayden swallowed a moan generated by the simultaneous stimulus of his warm breath, deep voice and obviously eager cock. Want it? Wanting wasn’t the issue. She’d wanted him since he’d set foot in her office. Before that. Since she’d unearthed a rare newspaper photo taken at a charitable event to establish college scholarships for underprivileged women. How a dull black-and-white picture could project so much power and charismatic sensuality defied logic.