Grounded (20 page)

I didn’t answer.
 
He already had me incoherent as he made good on his offer.
 

He pounded into me relentlessly, one hand pulling my hair, the other rubbing my clit.
 
He brought me over, again, and then again.
 
He was merciless.
 
I was completely wrung out by the time he let himself come with a rough groan, grinding deep inside of me, the hand in my hair moving to my chin.
 
He gripped it hard as he watched me.
 

He gave me one swift kiss before pulling out of me.
 

He left me where I was, leaning against the door for support, my arms still tied, while he moved to the desk.
 

He cleaned us both as well as he could with just tissues.
 
He kissed me deeply but softly, a romantic kind of kiss, while he untied my wrists.
 
He pulled me against him, supporting me while I regained my balance, massaging the feeling back into my wrists slowly and thoroughly.
 

“I love you, Bianca,” he said when he finally pulled back.
 

“I love you, too, James, but that doesn’t give you a free pass.”

“No, it doesn’t.
 
Being your Dom does that, Love.
 
I’ve compromised far more for you than I’ve ever done for anyone or anything in my life.
 
Controlling you sexually is something I won’t be bending on, but I’m pretty sure you already knew that.”
 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Mr. Amenable

James was in a remarkably better mood as we returned to our group.
 
We stayed for hours, laughing and joking with my friends.
 
He was even friendly with Damien, though the man couldn’t get within six feet of me without James grabbing handfuls of me to prove a point.
 
Though, if I was fair, he rarely kept his hands off me when we were together, Damien or no.

Damien, for his part, was giving James even less of a reason to be jealous than usual.
 
He was distracted and quiet.
 
He spent most of the night shooting Jessa baffled looks.
 
I found that strangely encouraging.
 
Maybe there was something there.
 
It could have been that he just took it personal that she hadn’t enjoyed their one-night stand, but I was hoping it was more than that.
 
I caught a little snippet of their conversation as the night was winding down, when Damien had managed to corner Jessa just behind where we’d been standing and chatting with Murphy.
 

“Hey.
 
Are we good?” Damien asked her, his voice worried.

“We’re fine,” Jessa replied in a flat voice, sounding anything but fine.
 

“I feel like a jerk.
 
I didn’t know you felt that way.
 
Frankly, I thought you’d forgotten about the whole thing, since you never mention it.”

“Don’t worry about it, Damien.
 
One unhappy customer out of a thousand should hardly mess up your average.”
 

He cursed, and I couldn’t help it, I glanced over at them.
 

Damien’s back was to me, but Jessa was facing me, and I saw her face clearly as she rolled her eyes.
 

“I didn’t know it was bad for you.
 
It wasn’t bad for me.
 
In fact, it was pretty amazing.
 
I’d like to…make it up to you, if you’d let me.
 
You could show me what you didn’t like
—
help me work on my technique.”
 

Jessa snorted loudly.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one shamelessly eavesdropping.
 
Murphy started swaying and singing,
“Player’s gonna play…”
   

“Here’s the thing, Damien.
 
It was a hell of a lot more than your technique that wasn’t working out for me.
 
The pining for a chick that’s never going to look at you twice thing was the biggest turn off, and the fact that you didn’t bother to clue me in about your little hang-up before we hopped in the sack.
 
I never do the casual sex thing, and the way you turned into a stranger the second we were done reminded me very clearly why.
 
Sex is not just a bodily function for me.
 
I require some semblance of intimacy with the act, and you wouldn’t know intimacy if it punched you in the face.
 

“I hear you’ve been celibate for the last few months,” Jessa continued mercilessly.
 
“Waiting for a chick
that is never going to want you.
 
You’re not an idiot, you know she’s not going to leave her drop-dead gorgeous, so fucking hot that they look like they want to fuck each other in public, billionaire boyfriend for you.
 
It’s just another crazy-ass way for you to avoid real feelings.
 
The only way you could be good in bed for me would if you became a complete person, not just some
shell of a man
that doesn’t have a middle ground between putting women on a pedestal and degrading them with meaningless sex.”

Murphy clutched his chest, falling to his knees.
 
“I felt that right here, my friend!” he called out to Damien, not even bothering to hide the fact that we’d all been shamelessly listening to the entire exchange.

“How about we have this little chat in private,” Damien said, his tone hard.
 
We all watched silently while he grabbed Jessa by the arm and led her resolutely away.
 

She went easily enough, just muttering one loud, “Neanderthal,” as they walked away.
 

I looked at James, who’d been silent throughout the exchange.
 
“Maybe those two will work things out and start dating,” I said hopefully.

James studied me.
 
“Do you want that?”

I sent him a baffled look.
 
“Of course I do.
 
Damien needs to move on, and Jessa would be good for anybody.
 
She’s one of the most open and honest people I’ve ever met.
 
Talking to her is like chatting with a really good therapist.”

“Nah,” Murphy said, getting back up.
 
“Damien’s pretty clear about what he likes from women.
 
He likes to be ignored, not yelled at.
 
She’s not his type at all.”

I gave my little shrug.
 
“Maybe he needs to find a new type.”
 

Murphy grinned.
 
“Now wouldn’t that be awesome.”
 

Damien and Jessa never returned to the club, at least not before James and I left, and I took that as a very good sign.
 

We made our rounds, saying goodbye to everyone at around eleven.
 
James was rather quiet but sweet on the short trip back to the apartment.
 
He nuzzled into my neck, placing soft, sweet kisses there.
 
It wasn’t his usual style, but I still melted.
 

He made love to me again before I sank into a deep and dreamless sleep.
 

I was pleasantly surprised the next morning when I realized that he was traveling to Vegas with me that day.
 
I’d known that he was planning to spend part of his week there with me, but we hadn’t discussed when he was flying out.
 

We got dressed together, holding hands quietly while we made our way down to the waiting car.
 

“I discussed it with Stephan last night.
 
You don’t have to take the airport shuttle with the crew.
 
It’s at your lead’s discretion, and he gave us the green light, so you can ride with me.”
 

I just nodded.

The flight went well.
 
The whole day did, in fact.
 
There was a brief moment of tension when James found out that, though I was taking the furlough, I would still be working my regular schedule for at least two more weeks.
 
He didn’t like that.
 
I hadn’t thought he would, but I wouldn’t budge.
 

“This company gave me an invaluable opportunity that changed my life.
 
That means a lot to me.
 
They’ve asked us to stay on our schedules for two more weeks, and I won’t bail early and mess up staffing in the meantime.
 
I won’t budge on this, James.”
 

My little speech was impassioned enough that he let it go pretty quickly, for him.
 
Even if he couldn’t understand why I would have a feeling of loyalty towards a company that was on its way out, he at least respected it.
 
That warmed me.
 
He didn’t always understand me, but I could have no doubts that he tried to.
 

The next few days went like that.
 
Every possible bump in the road gave us little resistance.
 
He didn’t complain when I had to work for most of Sunday, just kissed me a lingering goodbye with a murmured, “I love you.”
 

Things were good between us.
 
Good was putting it mildly.
 
We were amazing together.
 
Things became so easy but that heat between us didn’t cool for a moment.
 
It became very clear to me just how perfect it could be between us if we just let it.
 
It all felt so perfect, in fact, that I began to get a little paranoid, always waiting for that other shoe to drop.
 

I told myself that life didn’t just have to be a series of tragedies.
 
Maybe I could just have this wonderful thing, no conditions.
 
Perhaps life would be blissfully smooth sailing from here on out.
 
I wanted to believe it, but a sick tension never quite left my gut, and my nightmares were more persistent than ever.
 

We stayed at his Vegas home that week, agreeing to stay at my little place on the next Vegas rotation.
   

On Monday, we went out to dinner with the tattoo artist, Frankie.
 
I was nervous.
 
I knew I’d made a bad impression the first time we’d met, and I wanted to rectify that, but I didn’t know the woman, so I wasn’t sure how.

We met her at a trendy restaurant in the Cavendish Hotel & Casino.
 
I dressed Vegas casual, in a pretty, white blouse, beige short-shorts, and pumpkin orange heels.
 
You could never show too much skin in Vegas, and the heels made the outfit just dressy enough that I could fit in anywhere.
 

Frankie was warm and friendly, hugging us both and giving me a genuine smile right off the bat.
 
I felt my tension ease.
 
She was going to make it easy on me.
 

Frankie was wearing a tight gray T-shirt that was torn so short at the bottom that I got a good look at some of her under-boob.
 
Her cutoff jean shorts weren’t much more decent.
 
Her ink-covered skin was well displayed in all its glory.
 

She caught me looking and smiled.
 
“My reality show is shooting.
 
The producers love to see the ink.
 
I swear they talk me into less and less clothing every season.
 
Next season they might just get me to walk around naked.
 

I smiled back at her.
 
She had a very nice smile.
 
Her makeup was dark, her lips nearly black.
 
Her look was harsh but managed not to detract from her pretty face.
 
With that endearing smile she was actually kind of adorable.
 
With her corkscrew black curls, she kind of looked like a grown-up goth Shirley Temple.
 

We hit it off with no problems.
 
Frankie wasn’t at all what I’d been worried she’d be.
 
I began to see why she and James got along so well.
 
She laid the charm on thick; add that to her undeniable charisma, and I saw easily why she had her own reality show.
 
I didn’t like reality shows.
 
I never saw the appeal to watching people that I didn’t like or respect make fools of themselves, but I would have bet that I’d like Frankie’s show.
 

“What would I have to do to get you on my table, Bianca?” Frankie asked with a charming smile after we’d been chatting for a solid hour.

James made a disapproving noise, and I glanced at him.
 
He was shooting an annoyed look in the other woman’s direction.
 
“Don’t hit on my girl, Frankie.”

She raised her hands in a show of innocence, laughing.
 
She was clearly unaffected by his jealousy.
 
“I wouldn’t, James.
 
You’ve got it all wrong.
 
I just think she’d look lovely with some ink on that perfect skin of hers.”

James looked far from appeased by that.
 
“Knock it off, Frankie.”

She waved him off.
 
“Oh, chill out, James.
 
I’m really not.
 
I have a girlfriend now, and I’ve never been happier.
 
Just let me have some fun.”
 

I saw his eyes move to somewhere behind Frankie.
 
My gaze followed his.
 
A huge man strode towards us.
 
He was several tables away, but I could tell from that purposeful stride and his intent stare that he was headed our way.
 

He looked…sinister.
 
And sexy.
 
He had pitch-black hair that hung straight to his massive shoulders.
 
He was so big that I would have pegged him for a football player, or some kind of professional athlete, if it weren’t for the way he dressed.
 
He wore a white T-shirt with what looked like some band’s logo on the front of it.
 
It was so tight that I could see every ridge in his six-pack, and every bit of the extensive tattoos that covered his chest.
 
His jeans looked like he’d been in a war-zone, they were so torn up.
 
His arms were covered in full sleeve tattoos.
 
I thought that he must work in Frankie’s tattoo parlor, since he was so inked up.
 

As he drew closer, I saw that his hard jaw had a five o’clock shadow that looked like it never went away.
 
He had even features, with thick brows over thickly lashed eyes, a straight, rounded nose, and a mouth made for sin.
 
He was a handsome devil.
 

He grinned as he drew close to us, flashing twin dimples that were pure trouble.

James cursed.
 
“What the hell is he doing here?” he asked Frankie.
 
He sounded very putout.
 

Frankie turned to see who he was talking about, but had the opposite reaction when she saw who approached.
 
She grinned.
 

“Tristan is getting a new tat today.
 
Of course, my producer just had to catch it for the show.
 
They love it when celebrities come into the shop.
 
Your episode is airing in two weeks, by the way.”