BeyondAddiction (14 page)

Leaning her head back against the seat, she closed her eyes,
swallowed and tried to dispel the sick feeling still lingering in her stomach.
She’d been nauseous and shaking ever since she answered the phone and heard his
voice. He had that effect on her even now. The man was pure evil yet she
couldn’t seem to break her sick fascination or his mesmerizing grasp, despite
how much time had passed. How was it that she still allowed him to maintain
this invisible hold?

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

She was a smart woman who’d been enticed by a facet of the
BDSM lifestyle she didn’t really understand, something that—she was ashamed to
admit—aroused her beyond belief. And she’d fallen into a sexual hellhole. How
was it possible that after all she’d been through, after the near-destruction
of her mind, her
body
still craved what Brian offered? How sick was
that? When she’d left him—or more specifically, when Claire had literally
dragged her out of his house—she’d hidden herself away, first at Claire’s then
at her new place in the rural Hill Country, healing until she’d met Cord.

Now she was here, in his house, in the kind of relationship
she hadn’t ever thought she’d have, with a man who mastered her with love and
care. Who taught her what a real D/s relationship was about. She simply could
not
let anything connected to Brian touch him. Or them.

I won’t see him tomorrow. And I won’t answer any more of
his calls. Tomorrow I’m blocking his number. I’m done with him. Done!

Unexpectedly she felt a burning awareness on her wrists, a
memory of the periods Brian had left her bound for extraordinary lengths of time.
He’d always protected the skin. She was at least grateful that, despite
everything he’d done, he’d had an aversion to marking any visible parts of her
body. But suddenly the sensation was there, and she rubbed her skin as if to
wipe it away.

Stop this! Stop it now! Don’t let yourself get sucked in
again. You’re smarter than this!

She sat there for some minutes, breathing slowly, trying to
blank her mind. When she was sure she had herself under control, she took a
moment to refresh her lipstick and run her fingers through her hair before
getting out of her car. She wasn’t sure if Cord was out with the hands checking
the cattle or in the stable with the horses, but she really, really needed to
see him.

To have him hold her and kiss her.

To punish her and then drive her to intense orgasm.

First, she decided, she’d go inside and change into jeans
and boots before hiking through the stable or riding out into the pastures. But
when she let herself in the back door, she heard voices coming from Cord’s den—his
and another she didn’t immediately recognize. And Cord did not sound happy.

“I understand what you’re telling me,” he said, “but I
should have some control over my own guest list.”

“I agree,” the stranger answered. “But when someone who has
this much clout asks a favor, it’s not really a favor. You know what I mean?”

“I’m not a stranger to financial politics, Lee.” Cord’s
voice had a harsh edge to it. “I just labored under the foolish misapprehension
that here, as opposed to in the cities, it didn’t come into play.”

The man’s laugh was tinged with bitterness. “Don’t be
fooled. It’s even stronger here, where there are fewer top players and more to
be gained. Arm twisting can be really painful if you resist.”

“So you’re telling me I really don’t have a choice.”

“Not at all. You can choose whatever you want. You just need
to weigh all the consequences.”

Fallon couldn’t hold back anymore. She stepped through the
doorway. Cord sat behind his desk, tension in every line of his body. In one of
the deep leather chairs facing him was their host from the party the other
night, Leland Grange. He didn’t look much happier than Cord. And they both
looked startled to see her.

Cord recovered first. “Hi, sugar. Aren’t you home early?”

She nodded and forced a smile. “A little. Just figured I’d
quit early today and catch up on the lists for the party.”

“Now see?” Grange said. “That’s just what I’m talking to
Cord about. The guest list. And by the way, real nice to see you again.”

“Thank you.” She wore her best public-relations face and
used her most professional public-relations voice. This was business, not
personal, although everything that affected Cord had become personal to her.
“Is there something we can help you with?”

“It’s handled,” Cord said in a tight voice.

“Well, actually,” Grange drawled, “‘handled’ isn’t exactly
what I’d call it. Maybe you can convince Cord to change his mind.”

She frowned. “About what?”

“Adding someone to the guest list for the private opening
party.”

She and Cord had spent hours refining the list, making sure
to invite movers and shakers from all over the state but at the same time
keeping the list exclusive so the invitation would have more punch to it.

“Why don’t you tell me who it is?” she asked Grange. “I’m
sure if he or she is important enough, we’d be happy to include them.”

Cord sat forward in his chair. “No. We wouldn’t. And that’s
final.”

Now she was
really
curious. “Who is this person?”

“A real player on the global stage. He could steer a lot of
business your way. And the bank would really appreciate it. Do you know of
Brian Willoughby?”

Fallon had to sit down in the other armchair before she fell
down. She hoped she didn’t look as sick as she felt.

Brian
here
? At their home? Tainting the very place
where she lived? She clenched her hands, steadying herself, digging for some
semblance of control. “We’re aware of Mr. Willoughby,” she told the banker.
“Both of us are. And Cord has his reasons for not including him at this event.”

Grange sat forward in his chair. “I’m sure you think they’re
good ones, but Brian was insistent that he attend this particular event.” He
shrugged. “I don’t know why but he expects me to make it happen.” He paused.
“Would you by any chance have an answer to that?”

Cord started to answer but Fallon held up her hand. This was
her mess. She’d handle it.

“I have an…unpleasant connection to Mr. Willoughby. Cord is
just trying to protect me.”

“I’m real sorry to hear that. But maybe he wants to make
amends.”

That’s not even close to what he wants.

She sighed. How to handle this? But Grange interrupted her
thoughts.

“In any event, folks, I think I’m going to have to insist.
Brian could use any bank for his domestic interests and he chose us. We want to
keep him happy. If you don’t want to send him a separate invitation, I’m afraid
I’ll just bring him along with the wife.” He looked at Cord. “He could do you a
lot of good, Cord. A lot. But he could also do you a lot of harm. I’m trying to
protect your interests as well as ours.”

No way would Fallon let Brian hurt Cord’s business. She
could do this. She
could
. And maybe this would be the chance to show
Brian she was finished with him. Settled into a good life with Cord.

And maybe she’d even convince herself at the same time.

She focused on Grange. “Please tell Mr. Willoughby we’d be
glad to have him join us. In fact, let me get you an invitation to pass along.”

“Fallon—” Cord began.

“It’s okay,” she assured him. “Truly.”

She made her way to the bedroom Cord had turned into an
office for her and plucked an invitation from extras on her desk. Pausing for a
moment, she forced herself to take some deep breaths, hoping it would still the
shaking in her hands. Digging for every shred of self-confidence, she marched
back to the den. She held the envelope out to Grange.

“You’ll see that he gets this?” she asked.

“I will. And thanks.” He turned back to Cord. “Willoughby is
a major presence everywhere, but the bank also values
your
business,
Cord. And we’re invested in you. When it comes to some folks around here, the
names you can boast on your guest list are almost as important as how much
money you have. I wouldn’t want to put myself or the bank in the middle of a
pissing contest between you and Brian Willoughby. That wouldn’t be good for
anyone.”

Again Fallon jumped in before Cord could say anything. “We
both understand. Whatever the problems between us and Brian, we’ll put them
aside to accommodate your request.”

The smile he gave her was big and almost as false as a pair
of knock-off boots.

“Glad to hear it. Glad to hear it.” He pushed himself out of
the chair. “Thanks for this.” He indicated the envelope.

“Glad we could help. Cord?” She turned to him. “I’m going
upstairs to change.”

She nearly ran from the den, racing to their bedroom where
she collapsed on the edge of the bed. Her heart was racing and her palms
sweating. How could she do this? How could she smile and be polite when Brian
was silently digging into her mind every minute he’d be there? But the ranch
and the event center meant too much to Cord. He’d poured a lot of money and
sweat equity into it and she’d be damned if she let someone with a power-hungry
personality destroy it.

She’d just have to make sure she had her act together when
he arrived. Be cordial but cool. Polite but nothing more. And avoid him as much
as possible.

She was ashamed to think something she’d done—someone she
was still affected by—could intrude on her relationship with Cord and
potentially ruin his livelihood. Maybe she deserved Brian’s worst for being so
stupid in the first place, but Cord certainly didn’t.

She kicked off her shoes and curled up on the bed, head on
the pillow, hands tucked beneath her cheek, eyes closed. That’s the way Cord
found her when he came into the room.

“Girl.” His voice was soft and commanding at the same time.
“I think we need to have a talk. Then possibly a punishment session.”

“Yes.” She nearly sobbed the word. “You should punish me for
bringing that man into our lives.”

His fingers stroked lightly against her cheek, a soft
caress.

“You leave him to me, girl. Everything will be fine.”

But she just knew it wouldn’t. Not at all.

The party was in full swing. The main room of the renovated
event center was filled with people, the air humming with the symphony of
dozens of voices. Absolutely everyone on the list had accepted and shown up.
They might have come out of curiosity, Cord thought. Checking out the
interloper, so to speak. But as he moved through the room, stopping to converse
with one group then another, the feedback on both the event and the venue was
gratifyingly positive.

He stole a look at Fallon standing beside the high pub table
she’d set up to one side, pointing out items on one of the brochures to a
couple clearly focused on her every word. If anyone could sell this place, he
knew she could. She had an incredible natural talent for drawing people in.

She glanced up as if sensing his eyes on her, and he
swallowed a smile. Even at this distance he could see her slight nervousness.
Her breasts pushed against the soft fabric of her blouse and he could visualize
the nipple rings shielded by the satin of her bra. They were a stamp of
ownership only he could see. Only he knew they were there. His cock hardened at
the thought.

For the past few days she had been edgy. He hoped it was
just the anticipation of the party and a desire for its success, and not
anything to do with Willoughby.

She said she’d tell you. Keep remembering that.

He made sure the group he was talking with had their drinks
and directed them to Fallon with any questions. As his gaze wandered over the
crowd, it stopped on the people just coming in the doors. Leland Grange handed
over his invitation and ushered his wife into the room. But it was the man
entering with them who Cord focused on.

Brian Willoughby was a big man in every sense of the word.
Cord judged him to be at least six foot six, with muscles barely disguised by
the custom-made sports jacket he wore. His blond hair stopped just above his
collar, framing a face that could have been chipped from ice. Only his eyes
showed any life, twin blue flames that darted everywhere.

Cord saw the moment he spotted Fallon and watched as he
started toward her. Grange touched Brian’s elbow, gesturing toward the bar, but
the other man just shook his head. He mouthed the word “later” and continued
moving through the crowd, focused on Fallon.

Cord focused on
Willoughby
, just the sight of the man
making him clench his fists in silent rage.

That fucking bastard. I’d toss him out on his ass if I
could. I know damn well he’s the reason she’s so screwed up. Killing him would
be too mild for—

His thoughts cut off as he realized there was something
about the look on Willoughby’s face the disturbed him, made him very uneasy.
Cord offered a polite excuse to the man who had just come over to talk to him
and headed toward Fallon. He arrived at the pub table just as Willoughby did,
and slid his arm protectively around his girl. Claire had appeared as well, she
and Cord flanking Fallon.

“Cord Jamieson.” He held out his hand. “You must be Brian
Willoughby. Leland mentioned you.”

Rage flared in Willoughby’s eyes as he looked from Fallon to
Claire to Cord. His handshake would have been a bone-crushing grip to another
man but Cord gave as good as he got. Willoughby’s eyes narrowed but he released
his hand and looked at the woman next to Cord.

“Hello, Fallon.” Despite the short greeting, his words
dripped with venom.

She nodded her head once. “Brian.”

Cord could feel her trembling against him and he tightened
his arm, drawing her closer. Claire made it obvious she wasn’t moving either.
Cord saw the other man’s mouth tighten as he tried to keep his anger under
control.

“I was hoping we could have a drink together, for old times’
sake.” His smile was anything but pleasant. “I believe you owe me one.”

What the fuck does that mean?

Cord cut off whatever Fallon might have said. “Maybe some
other time. She’s very busy working tonight.” Nodding to Claire, he urged Willoughby
away from the pub table. “Let me get you a drink and show you around.”

It was obvious the other man didn’t want to move but it was
equally apparent he couldn’t refuse without creating a scene. A man like him
would never let others see he wasn’t in control. When he followed Cord to the
bar, however, the fury vibrating from his body was almost palpable.

“Bourbon,” Willoughby snapped at the bartender. “A. A.
Hirsch Reserve. If you’ve got it,” he added, his tone derogatory.

“As a matter of fact, we do,” Cord told him, his voice even.
“We researched our guests carefully. Apparently Hirsch is a pretty common
choice in these parts.”

“You could have just asked Fallon.” He took a sip of the
whiskey, watching Cord over the rim of his glass. “She knows all about my
habits.”

“I doubt if she remembers them anymore.” His attitude said
plainly,
Don’t get in a pissing contest with me.

Willoughby frowned. “You might want to reexamine that
statement. Fallon and I had something very strong. I’m surprised she hasn’t
told you all about it. And as far as I’m concerned, it’s still there. She just
needs to be reminded.”

Cord was determined to hold his temper. “Fallon’s doing just
fine without you. Excellent, as a matter of fact. Now if you’ll excuse me, I
need to see to my other guests.”

The other man’s fingers closed over Cord’s arm like iron
talons. “You’re a fool if you think she won’t come running back to me—I promise
you I’ll make it happen.”

Cord jerked his arm away. “Don’t delude yourself.”

“Ditto,” he sneered. “I can crush you, Jamieson.”

“Try it,” Cord replied coolly. “You might get more than you
bargained for.”

He headed for Fallon, who was rearranging her brochures, her
face as white as snow. Taking the papers from her hand, he placed them back on
the table and mouthed a “thank you” to Claire, who moved away.

“You need a drink. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I’ll be fine. Really.”

But when he took her hands in his, they were ice-cold and
still trembling and he read panic in her eyes. He wanted to take her back to
the house and lock her in the bedroom until everyone had left, but he knew that
would only create more controversy.

“Yes, you will be.” He put his mouth close to her ear. “A
drink, girl. And later I’ll take care of those nerves.”

* * * * *

Fallon had to admit the wine did settle her a little, but
she continued to feel Brian’s eyes wherever she was in the room, like tiny
knives stabbing at her. The dinner she’d nibbled at lay like lead in her
stomach, threatening to hurl itself back up her throat. He was obviously beyond
enraged that she’d ignored his call. That she hadn’t shown up at the hotel. She
was sure if he got her alone—

No. He’s not going to. Cord won’t let him.

Besides. She’d ignored him once. She could do it again.

One step at a time.

Of all the stupid things she’d ever done in her life—and
there were more than she wanted to recount—falling under Brian’s spell was the
biggest. But she’d been so seduced by the power of him, by the edgy nature of
the bondage games. By the intensity of her orgasms when he allowed her to have
them. She’d given him more and more control, just for those rare moments of
excruciating pleasure, for a smile from him, a reward, until she’d finally lost
herself completely.

She knew he was evil. He had nearly destroyed her. Would
have, if not for Claire. Yet he was still like a fulminating disease inside
her, tainting her relationship with Cord and invading her defenses. He wouldn’t
stop coming after her.

The question was, how long could she hold out?

Fallon gave herself a mental shake. A sickness. That’s how
she had to look at it. And she had to find a cure, a way to break the invisible
power he held over her. She looked up to see Cord watching her from across the
room, even while he chatted with some people.

Her eyes tracked over and there was Brian, sending her
silent commands.

Get a grip.

This was Cord’s big night. Every luminary, every person who
could use this facility or send people to it, was gathered in this room. He
needed her support and she’d give it to him come hell or high water. She could
do this. Especially with Claire close beside her whenever Cord was busy.

She could fall apart later.

By the time they’d said their final goodbyes and the last
person had been ushered out the door, Fallon was in a state of near collapse.
When Brian had passed her on his way out the door, he’d bent low and whispered
in her ear.

“You didn’t show up for lunch. Very bad, Slave. I
will
punish you for it. And you’d better show up the next time I call or your phony
Dom won’t know what hit him.”

“Leave him alone,” she’d hissed. “He’s not part of this.”

“As long as you’re with him, he is. Think about it.” Then he
was gone.

“You did a great job, Fallon. Thank you for everything.”
Cord nipped her ear. “A lot of people signed the book to be contacted. You’ll
be a busy person for a while.”

She turned to him and grabbed his lapels. “Good. Keep me
busy. Too busy to think about—anything. Please.”

He cupped her face. “He can only hurt you if you let him.
His power over you is all in your mind.
His
mind. Take my power
instead.”

“Take me inside, Sir.” She deliberately used the honorific,
something she only employed when they were in the bedroom or at times when the
outside world didn’t intrude and she could totally give herself over to him.
“Punish me. Use everything on me. Don’t stop until I bleed and scream in pain.”

He grabbed her chin lightly. “That’s not me and you know it.
Not us. I want you to know that every touch, every punishment, comes with love.
I refuse to turn you into a mindless sub I can torture and abuse, physically
and mentally.” Then his lips curved in a half-grin. “But I’ll be sure to remind
you that you need to remember who your Master is. And who
isn’t
.” He
brushed a kiss over her lips.

It wasn’t just sex. She told herself that every day. Brian
had seduced her with the sex but Cord…well, Cord had claimed her heart before
she’d even realized it.

For more than a year after Claire had pulled her away from
Brian, she’d avoided any contact with men except for business. But the moment
she met Cord at a chamber of commerce mixer, something flickered between them.
Like calling to like. He hadn’t rushed her. Pressed her. He let her adjust to
their new situation. Cord also wasn’t threatened by her independence, or the
respect she commanded in her small business circles. Rather, he dominated in a
way that illustrated his appreciation for who she was.

Brian had never valued her, not as a professional or a
person. Still didn’t. So
why
?
Why
did feelings continue to swirl
around like a vortex inside her every time she saw him or heard his voice?
After all this time, she should be immune to him!

Leaving Cord to arrange for the foreman to lock up after the
caterers cleared everything away, she went inside and directly to their
bedroom. She was standing at the end of the bed when Cord appeared, desire hot
in his eyes. A small lamp bathed them both in its amber glow. He dropped
something on the bedside table then came to stand behind her.

“Take off your clothes.” His voice was commanding, firm but
not harsh.

He watched her, not touching although she craved his hands
on her. Fallon slowly shed her clothes, one piece at a time. As she dropped
each item to the floor, she saw the heat in his eyes flame brighter. When she
was completely naked she stood there, hands at her sides, waiting for his
command.

“Spread your legs.” His voice had a rough edge to it. “Touch
yourself.”

Swallowing, she slid one hand down her stomach to the top of
her mound, easing her forefinger between lips already slick with her juices.
When she barely brushed the tip of her finger over her clit, the sensitive knot
of tissue was so stimulated by the tension of the evening and by Cord’s command
that a shudder raced through her body.

“Let me see your finger,” he commanded.

She lifted it, wet with her fluid. He bent his head, licking
it clean.

“Again. Do it again. Slowly. Up and down your slit.”

Fallon stroked herself then raised her hand again. When Cord
cleaned her finger with his tongue, he bit lightly on the digit.

“I’ve taken your essence into my body. You belong to me,
Fallon. Remember that.”

The words, more than the tone, made her tense. Brian had
used them, or similar phrases, so often that she had trouble separating the
words from the man. They reminded her of a time when her will had been taken
away, when her every breath depended on another person’s permission.

Cord stroked her arms and her hips with easy caresses until
she felt her tension bleed away. She blew out a breath.

He moved his mouth so it was close to her ear. “I’m not him,
girl. And I’m going to make sure you remember that.” He walked them to the
mirror and stood behind her. “Now. Spread your legs wider and let me see you
play with your clit.”

She did as told, widening her stance even more. He banded
one arm around her to hold her steady as she rubbed her sensitive bundle of
nerves, a buzzing feeling zipping through the core of her pussy. Cord used his
free hand to pinch her nipples and tug on the rings. Heat shot from her breasts
right to her cunt and every internal muscle in her body clenched.

“Don’t come,” he ordered. “Don’t stop rubbing yourself until
I say and do
not
come until I give you permission. I want you to always
keep in mind that your release belongs to me, in the best way possible. Not for
my
satisfaction, but for yours.” He nipped the lobe of one ear. “Do you
understand the difference, girl?” He tightened his arm around her. “Answer me.”