Windy City: The Complete 5 Book Series

by Measha Stone

  And damn if that didn't mean even more to him.

  Chapter 16

  Erin found herself being glared at over the breakfast table on Thursday morning. She'd woken up a little early and made breakfast, as she did every morning. But she had also gone to his workout room. That was where he had found her, walking as fast as she could without running, on his treadmill. When he questioned what she was doing, she had said she was working out. Duh!

  It took him all of three seconds to get her naked and begging before she told him exactly what she was doing. She wanted to be more fit. Like him. She knew she wasn't ugly, but she wanted to be more toned to be able to handle a sterner bondage like she'd seen in some of the movies she watched. He hadn't laughed, but he had given her nipples a few tweaks over the fact that she found herself lacking in any way. The tweaks drove her arousal through the roof, and before she could cultivate an excuse, he had her bent over the weight bench and fucked her hard until she screamed from two orgasms that fully exhausted her.

  "Do you not want me to use the weight room?" She poked at her scrambled eggs.

  "You can use any room in the house." He sipped his coffee, still glaring.

  "Then why are you looking at me like you can't decide if you want to strangle me or beat me?"

  "No decision needed there. Beat you. Every time." He flashed a grin, then went back to glaring.

  She put her fork down. "What is it, Bradley?"

  "Are you going to stay away from Jonathan?"

  "We already talked about that," she reminded him.

  "Yes, but agreeing with something post-orgasm isn't really an agreement. Now, tell me the truth."

  "I can handle Jonathan. I don't need you to do that for me." She picked up her plate and brought it to the sink. She needed to get to work early, get the new color scheme over to Sean.

  "That's what I thought." He sighed.

  "Bradley, the week's almost up," she said quietly, facing away from him. The more she thought about it, the worse she felt, but she didn't want to continue playing like they were in a real relationship when they both knew it was just a fling.

  "Yes, it is. You're right."

  "So, we don't need to pretend, okay? I mean, I'm not going to be able to finish everything with the house in the next two days, so I'm going to have to deal with Jonathan." She rinsed off her plate and placed it in the dishwasher.

  "Why do we have a time limit?" He was sitting in his chair, looking as dangerous as ever with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyebrows raised. The clear blue of his eyes struck her as the sunlight peered through the window. The man was beautiful, even when he looked at her with such fierceness.

  "We agreed on one." She closed the door to the dishwasher and set the timer.

  "If we made it, can't we reset it?"

  "Bradley, I have to get to work. Can we talk about this later?"

  "No. You won't want to talk about it then either. You push it off, hoping it will just go away. Like you do with the house and Jonathan. Like if you avoid those issues, they will disappear."

  How did he manage to do that? Every time she built up a wall, he merely flicked his wrist to knock it down.

  "Do you want to end this between us?" Although his expression remained stoic, vulnerability laced his question.

  She looked at him, really looked at him from across the kitchen. End it? Hadn't they already agreed it would end after the week was over? But, no, she didn't want that. She didn't want to let go of him, of what they were building. "No, I don't want that."

  "Then don't let it end." He stood up from the table and pointed to the floor beside him. "Come here and kneel." She walked to him, no longer thinking about work, about Sean, or anyone else. Gliding to her knees, she put her hands on her thighs and looked up at him. "See? See how natural and confident you were? I have no desire to end this. I don't want you to go home. I want you to stay here. I want to keep going." He sat back in his chair, straddling her with his knees and cupping her face, pulling her to him.

  "I thought you didn't do long-term relationships."

  "And I didn't think you wanted anything more than a rebound." He ran his thumb over her lip. "I propose we let this go. Keep moving along with it and see where it takes us. Maybe it lasts, maybe it doesn't, but, Erin, this is the first time in a very long time I've wanted to take a chance." His glower smoothed out, and she could see the sincerity in his eyes. "If you're afraid I'll do what he did—"

  "I'm not." She shook her head. "Jonathan was always selfish. He gave very little to our relationship. You aren't like that. Just because he was a coward doesn't mean every man is." She'd seen enough of Jessica's broken hearts to know men could be cruel, but she always told her she'd find her prince, and Erin had to believe she'd find her own one day too.

  "Good. So, you'll stay away from Jonathan unless I'm with you?"

  "Sometimes he just shows up. You can’t be with me every second of every day." She tried to pull away from his hands when he gripped her chin tighter.

  “You can send him away, you can call me, you have options, Erin.”

  “I can’t promise something like that.”

  "I see." He let her go, then stood. "Well, maybe if I show you what will happen if you disobey me, you'll work a little harder to be sure to do as you're told." He put his hands in her hair and dragged her to her feet.

  "Bradley!" She tried to swat his hand away, but he wouldn't be deterred. He pulled her toward the kitchen stools, kicked one away from the counter, and pushed her down on one.

  "Grab the legs," he ordered, and gave her head a little shake when she didn't immediately obey. Once her hands were wrapped around the legs, he threw her skirt up over her back. "A thong?" He slid one finger beneath the strap nestled between her cheeks. "Well, that makes this a little easier."

  Erin braced herself for what she thought she knew was coming. She hadn't expected what came next. His hand came down. Hard. No light touches, no warm up smacks, just forceful slaps that kept coming. She screamed and fought, bucking against him. His only response was to place a firm hand between her shoulder blades to keep her down as he continued to wail on her unsuspecting ass. Where the hell was the warm up? When her feet slid out beneath her, he paused only long enough to put her back in place, positioning her ass even higher in the air.

  He remained completely silent as he spanked her, leaving a fire burning in her ass after each stroke of his hand. She made enough noise for them both. Knowing he wouldn't let her up, wouldn't let her go until he was finished, she dropped her head, released the tension in her shoulders, and surrendered herself to him.

  "There we go." He moved his hand from her back and wrapped it around her waist, pulling her ass up even higher before delivering the last stroke—the hardest of the bunch.

  She lay over the stool, letting the tears fall without shame. He had lit her ass on fire, and it had only been a warning. He didn't soothe her like he had the first time he'd spanked her. This time, he stood beside her and let her collect herself. Once her breath evened out and she was no longer sniffling, he helped her to stand. He smoothed down her skirt and turned her to face him. His hands were rough as he wiped away her tears and righted her hair as best he could.

  "I'll ask the question again. Unless I'm with you, will you make every attempt to stay away from Jonathan?" She nodded. "Words, Erin."

  "Yes, Sir." And she would. Going through that again wouldn't be possible. The memory of it would be replaying in her mind all day long. He kissed her, tasting every bit of her, exploring her mouth. There lingered a possessiveness to his kiss that gave her the comfort to lean into him, to respond openly to him. His lips, his scent, everything about him at that moment drove her libido into high gear. Just as quickly, he broke off the kiss and pulled her to his chest, hugging her tightly. Her own arms snaked around his waist, and she nuzzled into him.

  "And if you get another envelope today in the office, call me. Don't open it, okay?" He kissed the top of her head.
r />   "Okay."

  "Now, George is going to drive you to work. I've kept you later than you were expecting, and I don't want you to be late." He left her standing in the middle of the kitchen, dazed and completely aroused. When he returned to her side, he held out her purse to her. "Oh, and tomorrow night's dinner is your pick, from what I was told. Let me know where you'd like to go, and I'll get reservations."

  "Dinner?" Tomorrow would be Friday. "Oh, I'll let Jess know I can't make it."

  He shook his head before she was done speaking. "No, you won't. No more hiding. No more putting things off hoping they’ll go away. You'll need to explain what happened and what's going on. They're your friends. They aren't going to judge you." He assured her of something he couldn't promise. Of things he knew nothing about.

  "Would it be okay if we just did dinner here?" She dug out her phone and began to send the message out. Bradley had that look in his eyes, the one that warned her against arguing further, and her ass couldn't take another spanking.

  "If that's what you want, sure. We can order in." He wiped a strand of hair from her face. With the new length, she hadn't figured out exactly how she wanted to style it, so leaving it down with curls around her face seemed to be the easiest for the moment.

  "I can cook." She continued typing. "We don't usually meet until around eight. That gives me plenty of time to make dinner and drink a few glasses of wine."

  He gave a hearty laugh and swatted her ass playfully. "No wine. I haven't seen you take a sip of liquor since I've known you. I get the feeling you have a low tolerance."

  She snorted and finished typing out the minimal details for the group.

  Dinner at eight tomorrow night.

  "What's your address? Or should I just tell them the big ass mansion on the south side of the park?"

  "Brat." He took her phone, and she let him put his address in. "George is outside waiting. I have a meeting tonight with Alex and the other two owners. It will probably run late, so don't wait up for me." He handed her phone back and kissed her again. "Fuck. You taste too good to let go."

  It was her turn to laugh. "You know, if I have to explain, then so does Alex. He's owned that club for months now and hasn't said a word to any of us."

  "Let's just get everyone in one room first." He eyed her. "Don't forget, if you get another envelope…"

  "I know, I know. Don't open it and call you right away." She waved a hand in the air and turned to leave, but his hand gripped her arm, spinning her back to face him.

  "You interrupt me a lot," he said with narrowed eyes. "Perhaps you've forgotten who is on top and who is on the bottom around here."

  A chill ran through her, and for a moment, she forgot how to breathe. "I'm sorry, Sir." She focused on his lips, wanting the warmth of them on hers.

  "Hmm. I'm sure you aren't. But we'll have a lesson in manners soon enough." He gave her a grin that electrified her senses, then brought his lips down on hers. It didn't last long, the kiss, but the effects of it would last at least through lunch. He walked her to the front door and gave her a pat on the ass to get her moving down the stairs where George stood holding open the car door.

  Erin made it through most of the day without worrying about the house or threatening letters she received. She even managed to get two projects done and began a third that had been slotted for the following week. After thinking to herself she should start every morning off with a spanking to keep her productivity up, she was caught laughing in her office. Alone.

  "Um…everything okay?" Brenda asked, placing the mail and a coffee on Erin's work table.

  "Oh. Yeah. Just remembering something funny." Erin waved a hand, hoping to dismiss the topic, but Brenda must have noticed a change in Erin and wouldn't let it go.

  "Hmmm...I don't think so. I think there's a reason you haven't been taking Jonathan's calls, and I think that reason explains the guy standing by my desk with all those flowers.”

  "What?" Would he have come to her work? Her cheeks flushed. She walked around her desk, making a small attempt to look casual as she headed for Brenda's desk. All she found was a large bouquet of flowers. She sighed. In relief? In disappointment? She couldn't quite figure out which. They'd agreed that morning to keep their relationship going, to let it ride and see where it took them, so why was she so skittish about him appearing at work?

  "Wow, he must be some guy." Brenda plucked the card from the flowers and handed it to Erin with a grin.

  "How do you know they aren't from Jonathan?" Erin held the card in her hand.

  Brenda snorted. "Right. I've known you for five years, and not once has he sent so much as an email to this office. I'm not sure what happened, but whatever it was, I can't say I'm sorry it didn't work out between you two." Brenda shrugged. "Sorry. It's just…well, it never seemed like he was as invested as you. The more you tried, the more he ignored the effort."

  How did Brenda see that so clearly with only minimal exposure to him, and it took for him to walk out on Erin for her to see it? "No. You're right. We broke up a few weeks ago, but he checked out months ago."

  "Did he hurt you?" Brenda's protective side shone through. Having only a causal relationship with her assistant, Erin wouldn't have expected such loyalty, but she could see Brenda would have gladly smashed in Jonathan's nose if she told her the whole truth.

  "He did, but it didn't last long. Turns out, he did me a favor." Erin smiled.

  "So, who's this guy?" Brenda pointed to the envelope. "Open it."

  Erin felt her face flush again as she tore open the envelope and pulled out the card.

  I hope for his sake you've kept your mouth shut. Enjoy the flowers. The florist next to the funeral home does wonderful work.

  "Erin?"

  “Who brought these? Who was it?” Erin asked.

  “Just a delivery guy—young, I don’t know. Why?”

  Brenda's voice sounded like it came from miles away. Erin turned and walked into her office, leaving the flowers on Brenda's desk and gripping the card so hard, she nearly tore the paper.

  "Erin, you okay?"

  "Fine. I'm fine." Erin shut her door and went to her chair, sinking into it and grabbing her phone. She needed to tell Bradley; she'd promised him. Before it had only been her reputation at stake, but now, it was his life. If whoever was sending these letters found out she told him, he could be killed.

  "Jonathan's on line two." Brenda interrupted her panic attack. "Not in?"

  "No, ask him to shoot me an email. Tell him I'm in meetings all day." Maybe that would get him to leave her alone for a while. "Brenda? Throw those flowers away."

  Putting her head down on her desk, she took a few calming breaths. But the walls continued to push inward on her.

  Chapter 17

  Erin checked on the chicken baking in the oven for the third time before turning her attention to the potatoes simmering on the stove. The clock reminded her she had only twenty minutes before everyone would start arriving. Dinner would be ready on time, she had no worry there. It was the inquisition that would take place once everyone arrived that turned her stomach.

  Bradley, sensing her concerns, promised her he wouldn't let the questions get out of hand. If she became uncomfortable, she was to signal him, and he would steer the conversation on to other things. As glad for his help as she was, she knew his idea of uncomfortable and her idea were probably two very different ideas. He had told her more than once she needed to work through her discomfort, both in and out of bed. She held no doubt this evening would be another instance where she would have to push herself through it.

  When the doorbell rang, her stomach shot straight to her shoes.

  "Ready?" Bradley waltzed into the kitchen wearing his black slacks and blue button-down shirt. He hadn't changed from his afternoon meeting, except to remove his tie and coat. It occurred to her she hadn't asked him about his meetings. She knew very little about what was going on with the club, other than he and Alex were making some sort of a deal with
the other owners.

  Fearing for his life, having to bring him the worry from the arrival of the flowers, and avoiding Jonathan had taken up all of her time, leaving her completely selfish and ignorant of what was happening with him. He stood near the double oven and smiled.

  "Damn, that smells good. Come on, let's greet our guests." He held out his hand to her. She wiped her hands on the dish rag and walked around the island to slide her fingers into his.

  "I'm sorry." She gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.

  He wrinkled his brow. "For what?"

  "I never asked you how your meeting went. I was preoccupied with my own problems. I'm sorry for that."

  He gave her hand a squeeze. "You did nothing to be sorry for. You've had a lot on your plate this past week and have taken it all beautifully." He brushed a curl from her cheek. He'd been so proud of her when she’d told him about the flowers, the shine in his eyes had sent her heart fluttering as though he'd stroked her body with his fingers. "I owe you an apology, though. I never told you how beautiful your new haircut is."

  She felt the heat in her cheeks and looked away as they walked down the hall to greet her friends. George had already opened the door and allowed the entire bunch into the hall. "Shared a cab," Kelly explained before Erin could even ask.

  "Well, come in." She forced a smile and let go of Bradley's hand to take a bottle of wine each from Kelly and Jessica. Both ladies eyed Bradley with suspicion as he led them to the living room while Erin went to get glasses.

  When she returned, she placed the glasses on the bar. "Uh…Bradley, would you mind opening the bottle for me?" He took the bottle from her trembling hands and gave her a slow wink and nod toward the empty chair next to where he sat.

  "Go on, I'll get the wine."

  "I can do it."

  "I'm aware you can serve the wine, but I'm telling you to go over there." The command was given in a low enough voice the others didn't overhear, but if she was going to argue, she’d lose.