Tears of Tess (46 page)

I ignored the
pang caused by the ‘throwing away’ remark. He didn’t. He did what the police
told him. I wouldn’t hold a grudge… unless he kept being an arrogant asshole,
then I’d punch him.

Squeezing her
back, I breathed in her scent of lavender and cleaning products. My heart
thudded with so many memories. Suzette had been difficult. So loyal to Q, and
her hard friendship hurt sometimes, but she was fierce and lived through much
more than me.

My respect for
her was a hundred fold.

Pulling away, I
said, “I’ve had time to think. Q changed me, Suzette. He took the real me and
set me free.” I smiled, remembering how fundamental birds were to Q. Speaking
in his cryptic language, I added, “He opened my cage and allowed me to fly. I
can’t help it if my freedom is here.”

She pulled back,
a sly smile on her face. “You figured him out.”

Wrapping fingers
with mine, she tugged toward the house. I put one foot in front of the other,
focusing on breathing so I didn’t pass out. My heart hadn’t stopped thrumming
since I boarded the plane. I felt sure it was nearing expiration.

“I had help from
some drunken ramblings and Franco, but yes. I’m beginning to see him. I want to
see more.” I looked around the massive foyer with its midnight blue staircase
and huge works of art. My body spun with a thousand feelings; my stomach
wouldn’t stop somersaulting.

She pecked my
cheek, closing the door behind us, locking us into Q’s world. His domain. My
future. “What day is it?”

I blinked. Crossing
timelines and datelines muddled me. “Um, Sunday?”

A smile split
her face. “It’s not a weekday.”

Oh, my God. My
heart winged, soaring around the foyer. “He’s here,” I whispered. I couldn’t
wait another moment. “Take me to him?”

Suzette grasped
my hand, dropping her voice. “I’m so happy to have you back, Ami.”

I smiled. “You
know my real name. Call me Tess.”

She grinned. “Wait
here.”

She flew up the
staircase, leaving me all alone. I linked my fingers, lost. I was an intruder
in this amazing home, asking a hugely successful man to stop being an asshole, and
take me back. To show me his ruthlessness. His compassion. To give me the life
I truly wanted.

A sound rustled
from the lounge. I spun to face a woman in baggy track pants and a sweater
three times too big for her. She walked with an air of rejection and sadness.
The moment she made eye contact, she whimpered and fell to her knees, bowing.

Time screeched
to a halt. I could only stare.

Fifty-nine.

My hands curled.
This was slave fifty-nine. My replacement. Where had she come from? Jealously cramped
my stomach, but I forced myself to relax. Franco said Q never touched other
slaves. I was the first. His last. His fucking only if I had my way.

“It’s okay. You
can stand,” I said softly, inching closer. Brown, straggly hair hung with
grease, huge shadows ringed her eyes. Her wrists were brittle thin. Aura beaten
and trodden. Everything screamed abuse.

Is this how they
all arrive?
Was that why Q seemed so
surprised, so intrigued by me? I refused to bow. I swore. I hissed.

My breathing
stopped.

I saw myself how
Q did that day: a fighter through and through. A woman not stomped into depression
or servitude. A flash of brightness in a world of sadness. I was the polar opposite
of this poor girl.

I dropped to my
knees, holding out a hand. She scuttled away, trembling.

I stood, backing
up. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you.”

“Sephena. Stand
up.”

My body clamped
and clenched and melted. His voice.
Him
. Master. Controller. Sexy as
hell control freak.

I shivered and
spun. Facing my master. My chosen fate.

Q stood halfway
down the staircase, pale jade eyes blazing with a mixture of amazement, lust,
and anger.

The air arched
and crackled, tension flooding the space. Goosebumps erupted and nothing else
existed but him.

The huddling girl
shuffled beside me, climbing to unsteady feet. I tore my eyes from Q as she
bowed and went to him.

I followed,
drawn like a magnet to Q’s power.

Q only had eyes
for me; he moved silently down the stairs. His black pin-stripe suit with aubergine
shirt and faded grey tie, whispered with every step. His polished dress shoes shone
against blue carpet. I drank in everything about him.

There were lines
around his eyes that weren’t there before. The knotted tension in his
shoulders. His whisper-thin control frayed, showing a less than perfect posture.
 

He stopped two
steps above, glaring. “
Que fait tu ici?”
What are you doing here?

I waged the
battle to swoon at his voice. My sense of hearing, so completely owned by him,
ordered me to worship. To climb his magnificent hard body, and never let him
pry me away again.

I licked my
lips, smouldering with need. The spark between us couldn’t be denied. It burned
like a tripwire, waiting to explode.

The entire time
I lived with Brax, I had no interest in sex. Now, I would
die
if I
didn’t have him. Legs trembled, body flamed, and wetness melted unashamedly. Q
erupted all my longing into a fireball, incinerating my insides.

Poor Sephena was
completely ignored.

“I came for you,”
I whispered. “On my own accord.”

His nostrils
flared, mouth parted. That mouth, oh, how I wanted to kiss it. Tongue him. Have
it all over me.

“Sephena. Go and
find Suzette. She’ll show you where the swimming pool is.” He softened the hard
edge in his tone. “Remember, you’re free to do whatever pleases you.” Q
stressed the word free. I fell a little more.

The girl didn’t
show surprise, but I sure did. How did I not know Q had a swimming pool? What
other surprises would I find? I would make sure Q kept me so I could find out.
I wanted to help in every part of his life. He needed someone.

I blinked, realizing
just how lonely he was. A parade of broken women, sharing his home, never
finding solace in them.

He worked and
slept and worked some more.

The moment
Sephena disappeared, I balled my fists. “We need to talk.”

He bared his
teeth. “We don’t need to do anything. I sent you back. What the fuck are you
doing here?”

My palm itched
to slap him, to knock some sense into him. Was he clueless to the pain he
caused? Or so suffocated by his own, he couldn’t think straight? Everything I planned
to say flew out of my head; I folded to the floor.

A submissive
talking to her dominant. But I wasn’t a submissive. I was the woman who would
steal Q, just like he stole me. He had no choice. I wasn’t going to give him
one. “Master…Q…Quincy… ”

He sucked in a
huge gust of air, suit rustling as he shifted.

“My name is Tess
Snow. Not Sweetie, or Tessie, or Honey. I’m a woman only now realizing what
she’s capable of. I’m no one’s daughter. I’m no one’s girlfriend. I’m no one’s
possession. I belong to me, and for the first time, I know how powerful that
is.”

I stared at the
marble, laying my heart at his feet. “I came back for the man I see inside the master.
The man who thinks he’s a monster because of his twisted desires. The man who
rescues slaves and sends them back to loved ones. I came back for Q. I came
back to be his
esclave,
but also to be his equal.”

My voice trailed
off as my throat clogged with passion. “I came back to be your everything… just
like you’re becoming mine.”

My heart thudded
like a drum, roaring in my ears.

He stepped
closer.

Shoes appeared
in my line of vision. His voice echoed dark and thick. “You don’t know what
you’re offering.”

I lifted my head,
boldly wrapping a hand around his ankle. “I’m offering you my pain. My blood.
My pleasure. I’m offering you the right to whip and fuck. To debase and harm.
I’m offering to fight your needs with my own. I’m willing to join you in the
darkness and find pleasure in excruciating pain. I’m willing to be your
monster, Q.”

I dug nails into
his trouser leg, voice aching with truth. “We’re the same.”

With a snarl, he
yanked his foot away, prowling into the library. I looked after him, shocked.
Damn, he was hard work.

I stood and
followed, locking the huge glass door behind us, flicking the switch to turn
the glass from see-through to opaque. Privacy descended and tension threaded
between us, exploding into the realm of scary with need. I could see it: hot ribbons
of crimson lust, glittering with stars of want and intoxication.  

Q bent over his desk,
pinching the bridge of his nose. The dark room whispered of sin, compelling
wrongness. Books full of erotic stories looked down from dust-free shelves, encouraging
me to finish what I started.

I returned to Q.
But he had to work, too. He owed an apology, an explanation. He owed me his
heart.

Q whirled away,
pacing, running a hand over short hair. Eyes flickered to me and I tried to read
the burning feelings in his gaze.

“You can’t force
me to leave, as I came on my own freewill. This may be your house, Q, but you
don’t have the strength to throw me away twice.” I hoped to God I was right.

He growled under
his breath, prowling, never stopping.

Standing in the
centre of the room, I watched. Letting the beast roam, expelling excess angst.
While he paced, I talked.

“That night,
before you sent me away, was the best night of my life. The marks you laced me
with lasted a full week. Every time I looked in the mirror, or touched a bruise
in the shower, I grew slick for you. You visited my dreams. I woke to aching
wetness and an empty heart.”

My skin grew
hot, remembering how many wet dreams I enjoyed under his brutal demands. I
loved how his fingernails left faint scars on my ass.  “Flashes of memories
haunted me at the supermarket, at university. I could never escape you.”

He stopped
pacing, his gorgeous, angled face frozen in need.

I tiptoed
closer, murmuring, “I
ached
for you to dominate. I
throbbed
for
you to fuck. I
missed
you. I missed the man I know is in there, but you
never let me see.” I held up my wrist.

His eyes flashed
down and he grabbed me, lightning quick. “
Merde
.”

I stifled a moan
as fingers kissed the bird fluttering in its prison of barcode, whispering over
the number fifty eight.

“Why?” His voice
was tortured, wavering and gruff.

“Because you set
me free.”

Eyes locked on
mine, angry. “You’re insane. I warped your mind. After everything I did…
everything you went through because I kept you. How can you speak such lies?”

I cupped his
cheek, wincing as sparks zapped my fingertips. I couldn’t touch him without pain.
It seemed only fitting.

“It’s not a lie.
You showed me who I truly am.” My heart grew warm with steel and iron. “I’m
strong enough to fight you. I want to give you everything, but only if you give
me what I want in return.”

“You really are
insane. I hurt you—you should run and never come back.” Fingers lassoed around
my wrist, tugging me closer. “I’m not something you can tame. I’m not a man who
will sprout poems and treat you nice. I’m. Not. That. Human.”

I swallowed
hard, buffeted with Q’s temper and rage. “Did I ask for poems and niceties? No!
If I wanted those, I would’ve stayed with Brax.”

Q froze,
nostrils flaring. Hardness etched lines around his mouth. “Don’t mention that
name to me again.” His icy cold voice scattered goosebumps on my spine.

I’m losing. He’s
not seeing
.

I slapped him.

My palm smacked
satisfyingly against rugged five o’clock shadow. He reared back in shock, then
his whole deposition crouched into hunter—killer—monster. “You go too far.
Leave before you regret it.”

I wanted to
stomp my foot like a child. Throw a terrible tantrum to get him to open his
eyes. Forcing words between clenched teeth, I said, “I want
you
. I want
your complexities, your shadows. I want your whips, and chains, and brutality.
Listen to me! I’m willing to give you a slave who will never break, if you give
me what I want in return.”

Q cocked his
head, finally some shred of amazed compression glowed. “And what do you need in
return?” he murmured, so close I breathed his question.

My body went
from strong and defiant to fluttering and delicate. “I need you to care for me.
Promise you’ll share your life and not shut me out. I want to know who Quincy
is. I want to belong to Q. I want you to be honest with yourself that I mean
something to you, too. Do you have that in you, Q? To care for me completely,
so I can give you what you need?”