Maid For His Submission (15 page)

BOOK: Maid For His Submission
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Tosh didn’t dare inquire further, she could hear determination in his voice and it almost frightened her. Coming from a warm family unit, she didn’t understand how he and his father could have been so disjointed in the end or what brought them there.

“What about your mother?” she boldly asked.

“As far as I know she hasn’t seen me since I was four. I think she passed a couple years later, but I couldn’t tell you for certain.” Guarded and tight she could hear him constructing borders in his voice, trying to protect her. Tosh didn’t want to push too far and make him shut down. She quickly considered her options.

“Good night, Richard.” Retreating to sleep, she hoped he wouldn’t seek comfort in someone else's bed. “Until tomorrow.”

“Good night, my postulant.”

Scotch slushed over the rim of the short glass, sitting as a victim in the way of Richard’s hands once he forcefully closed his laptop. His New York office was dimly lit by display shelves along one wall. Beneath the shelves was a leather sofa stretched out with a pair of discarded slacks and a button up white shirt. In the three days he had been in town, Richard had only slept one night in his over-priced Plaza room. Anxiety was working better on his sleeping habits than a boat load of double espressos.

Picking up the glass with one hand, he brushed at the puddle of amber liquid with his sleeve, only managing to smear it over the leather blotter. So much of his father’s office was out of character for him, but the mess he was leaving behind was as foreign to him as the cheesy Dogs Playing Poker canvas print that hung over his father’s old bar. As a boy he had spent hours looking at that same print, dreaming up movies in his mind to the classic pop art. Thomas had given him a velvet copy when he had purchased the building in LA as a house warming present for his penthouse. That night they had burned it happily in the living room fire while the two of them enjoyed hours of scotch, pizza, and each other.

Swigging back the last mouthful, Richard clumsily set his glass on the bar and reached for the half empty bottle of one-hundred-year-old scotch—his father’s favorite.

She had asked him about his father, but what could he say?

Even more lost was when she had enquired about his mother. She had vanished from his life when he was four and about that same time his father had found work and women to out-weigh him on the scale of priorities. They shared week night dinners together and all of Richard’s birthdays, but every weekend and holidays he found himself left in the Manhattan apartment alone with a maid and a bodyguard. It was a lonely, cold childhood, and Richard had learned from those years to depend on himself. He was only fifteen when he met Thomas at a summer camp. The Camp of Kids Forgotten. There they had found a kindred spirit in each other with a connection that neither of them fully understood but deeply appreciated. It wasn’t love, but rather a brotherhood. Richard had surprised himself this night calling Tosh and not Thomas when he was desperate for a friendly voice. She had broken in where no one had ever managed and it was leaving him feeling very vulnerable.

Plugging the top of the scotch bottle with the cork, Richard carried the glass to the sofa and moved the discarded clothes to the floor, making room for himself. He had come to this city to finally claim his birthright, and instead was wishing he could whisk his postulant to his cabin outside the city and lock the two of them away.

Three knocks followed by his name disturbed his growing drunkenness.

“Mr. Daniels,” three more knocks, “Mr. Daniels.” The third shift security guard paused long enough to hear that there was no suspicious noise. “I have a lady here who says you sent of her.”

Damn, he had forgotten about Abigail. There was little Richard was up for tonight and fighting off her big tits wasn’t something he wanted to do tonight. She came on stronger than a hungry python in a pool full of swimmers. If it wasn’t for her amazing mind with numbers and the potential of a lawsuit for wrongful termination, he would have let her go a while ago, but he was stuck with the red headed piranha for the time being.

“Let her in.” Finishing another glass, he clumsily stood up and stumbled over to his father’s desk and moved aside his papers to find the hidden button to unlock the office door.

The lock released with a loud click and a curly mound of dyed red hair bounced in.

“I could have your job for—” Her nasty tone left the security guard pale, and Richard’s stomach started to turn.

“John, what’s the problem?” Richard asked, cutting off the shrews threats.

“Nothing, sir, only I tried to explain to the lady that you didn’t wish to be disturbed.”

“He practically tackled me in the lobby.” She defended herself, but the protest was quickly cut off.

Shaking his head in denial, John was wise to keep his protest silent, already familiar with how the bitch could bite.

“Thank you, John. I appreciate it.” John bid his new employer a goodnight and closed the door behind him.

“It’s five in the morning, and I haven’t slept. What do you want?” He wasn’t in the mood for games tonight and preferred her on the west coast, keeping him as far away from her threats of sexual harassment as possible.

“Nice to see you too,” the viper replied.

She didn’t wait for an invitation, tossing an over-stuffed envelope on his desk before turning around to take a seat on the leather couch. Lifting one leg up—to suggestively draw focus between her thighs—she crossed her legs and leaned into an elegant pose. Richard had always liked the sensuous glow of real silk stockings on a woman's legs and hers were exceptional, but even in his half drunken state he wasn’t an idiot. Sitting behind his desk, Richard reached for the letter opener with his father’s initials engraved on the handle.

“What’s this?” Slipping the opener under the glued down flap, he slowly slid the edge along the fold, ripping the envelope open.

“Your friend called the office in Santa Monica and said that something had arrived for you at the wrong address, so I volunteered to pick it up since I was already on the red eye out here for the Trans-Cartel meeting this afternoon.”

Tuning her out, Richard reached into the envelope to withdraw a large stack of papers; the cover letter was titled
Life Trust
. Too dizzy to think much of it and still distracted from missing Tosh, he pushed the papers out of the way and stood up from his desk. Richard was smarter than Abigail thought and knew that alone in his new office with her at this hour was the last place he should be. Picking up his coat, wallet, and keys, he left the office saying only ‘good night’ to her in his exit. Today would be another day of long meetings with accountants and investors, and he’d only had a couple hours to sleep off the scotch and try to look trustworthy and presentable all the while he was frustrated that he would have to break his promise to Tosh and not return when planned.

“I should have brought her with me,” he told himself, stepping into the elevator alone and pushing the button for the ground floor to catch a cab to the Plaza.

Chapter 13

 

 

 

Subject: Business

To: Tosh Autry

Miss Autry,

This is to inform you that Mr. Daniels Scheduled return to L.A. has been delayed.

From the office of Abigail Andrews

 

The Fax had come in at five in the morning, screaming at her. Tosh held the paper with a devastating grasp as if the words had been her death sentence. She had suspected the night before that he would be calling her today to apologize for being held over a day or two more. He had called it a merger, but now she knew that merger had to have some relation with his father’s death, but why did she have to hear this from Thomas and not Richard? Every hour that he was away she felt more and more disconnected with him, and Tosh didn’t like it.

It was such a cold message with no thought or feeling behind it. Wondering if it was all thanks to the big “A” or was she simply following his orders. Was she now nothing more to him than a faxed cancelation? Digging her phone out of her purse, Tosh turned it on to see no service. Her last line of communication to him was nothing more than a portable game system now that her service had been canceled. She had tried her best to conserve the use, hoping she could keep her bill low enough so it could be used for emergencies for one last month, but even the basic package had become too expensive for her, and Tosh was still a week away from her first pay check.

Crashing into a wall, the phone’s screen shattered on impact. One piece of paper had brought reality to ravage all the happiness in her life. Tosh had nothing keeping her here now. She was only living in his penthouse by invitation, and Tosh was going to have no other choice but to move in with her parents. His intent couldn’t have been more obvious in having her send the fax rather than if he had sent it himself.

Pouring herself a cool glass of water from the fridge door, Tosh tried to calm herself before picking up the home phone to call her folks. She would make this only a short stay until she could get on her feet and she would be sure that this time she wouldn’t ask for any handouts beyond her old bed to sleep in. Tosh was a new woman who was growing into her independence and no longer the professional college student her father had accused her of being three weeks ago. She had decided to call them when she returned from work that day, but first she needed to swing by the student center and see if the Assistant Event Coordinator job for the art department was still open. If she was going to be on her own, then she was going to need money, and without living on Richard’s schedule, she was going to have more time on her hands.

Getting dressed before her breakfast appeared on the counter thanks to Stephanie and hours before Richards morning call, Tosh headed out for the day, leaving his cold fax discarded on her bed. Tosh held in her tears for as long as she could and managed to keep her eyes dry until after the receptionist bid her good day. Once on the street and wishing she had gas for her car, Tosh let the water works flow, wiping her eyes dry with her work apron.

I will always tip for every cup of coffee I buy from now on.

Tosh thought to herself, dragging herself from the elevator with her shoes and apron in hand. After running to the school before work to turn in her application, and then struggling through a six hour shift on her feet, Tosh was thankful to have some tip money to surrender over to the three bus drivers it took to get home. They divided up the tips every Thursday and despite being a trainee Jude let her have a small percentage. It was only twenty dollars and it wouldn’t go far before next Thursday, but it was something and for now she was home and destined for a hot bubble bath.

Closing her eyes for a moment to find focus in her exhaustion, she heard the elevator doors slide closed behind her. It would probably hover there until tomorrow morning, but Tosh wished it would carry Richard back to her tonight. Stinging pain from the fax had left its mark on her, but despite the hurt, Tosh still missed him.

Opening her eyes with a flutter she first saw that the apartment was lit up from room to room. Too late for Stephanie to still be hard at work, she wondered if Thomas had come by for a drink. Pushing the glass doors open, she stepped in to hear a familiar voice coming from the office. Yelling at whoever the poor individual was, Tosh realized it was a phone conversation when it died abruptly and he came storming out into the hallway with his cell phone in hand.

“Where the hell have you been?” Richard charged for Tosh.

“You’re here.” A rush of excitement lit Tosh up, but was quickly chased away. Grasping her by the shoulders, he lifted her off the floor and his face was burning red, matching his blood shot eyes.

“Where the hell have you been!” he repeated himself, but Tosh was in shock from the violence in his voice and his tight grip. “Answer me!” he demanded, but she choked on her words and focused on the bulging veins in his neck.

Never one to lose his temper, Tosh was in shock by the violence that eradicated from him.

“I…I…”

He shook her violently and loose strands that had escaped her pony tail fell in front of her face. Flopping around in his grip like a rag doll, Tosh screamed inside her head to wake up, but she almost felt as if she was hovering outside her own body, unable to take any control.

“You weren’t here. I tried to call you, but your phone said it was disconnected and you didn’t answer here.” His hands squeezed tighter and tighter until she felt the pressure build up in her head. “You weren’t here!”

His panicked mantra was beginning to confuse her. The big A’s fax with his impersonal message was in her room. If he had been in such a hurry to get a hold of her, why didn’t the fax say so, but before she could say anything he stopped her trembling lips with a searing kiss.

He claimed her lips in a possessive strong embrace that overpowered her senses. Sinking into her bottom lip, his teeth savagely bit down in a predatory claim, and she fell apart in his arms. He broke away long enough to rip her white cotton shirt in two, exposing her simple white bra that suffered the same consequence. Hot breath scorched her naked breasts, awaking the sensitive flesh. She felt her nipple come alive inside his mouth, responding to his skillful tongue.

“Richard,” she finally managed to say.

Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back, giving herself over to his domination. Greedily he suckled, squeezed, and caressed her breasts, tugging, pinching, and biting at her erect nipples. Abandoning her bare chest, one hand reached under her skirt to make very quick work of her thin stockings, ripping the core and abandoning her sex for her breasts once more, never giving her one flick or stroke of satisfaction. The sensations were close to driving her mad with ecstasy.

Holding her ass in his hands, he lifted Tosh up. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips, bringing her wet sex against his slacks, where she felt his very hard shaft fighting against the restraint of his dress pants. Animal growls vibrated over her skin and rose up to her ears. He was an eruption of lust, carrying her across the living room to the breakfast bar. Setting her on the bar, he pulled her face to his and claimed her lips once again.

Stripping the remnants of her tattered shirt from her body, Richard tied to pieces together before wrapping them around her wrists. Securing her hands tightly, he reached up, removing a pan that had been hanging from a hook over the counter and ripped a piece of the white fabric over the hook, piercing the fibers and restraining Tosh’s arms above her head. There was enough pull in the torn bits of clothing that Tosh was able to stretch her toes to the floor, but that was not where he wanted her.

Abandoning Tosh for only a moment, Richard grabbed one of the seat cushions from a couch and placed it over the counter beside Tosh. She was confused why he would stop in the heat of the moment to provide unneeded comfort to her ass, but before she could protest his delay in taking her, Tosh was lifted up and turned around. Pressing the front of her thighs into the cushion with the weight of his body, Tosh was thankful for his fore thought.

Click, click, click.

She heard him quickly unzip the front of his slacks, followed by a shift in his weight as he reached inside his pants and through the perfectly fitted boxer briefs to guide his strong, hard, cock. Being fucked by a clothed man had always been a turn on to Tosh. The first touch from his seeking head on her backside left Tosh with goosebumps and desperate for more. He delivered to her body’s command, returning to his assault on her body, touching, groping, and massaging his way over every curve while he kissed, sucked and bit his way from her neck down to her perfectly rounded rear.

While he ravaged her, he never spoke one word, but grunted and groaned, spreading her thighs and separating the cheeks of her ass to reveal his prize. Her creamy mound was dripping in anticipation, and he didn’t hesitate, driving home into her. Their bodies rocked in time to a rhythm that their hearts set, in violent passion they found perfect harmony.

Vigorously he rammed his shaft deep inside her sheath, forcing Tosh over the edge and tumbling over and over again into her drawn-out release. She had climaxed the moment she first felt his mouth on her naked breasts, but now he was driving her to the point of madness, pounding deeper and deeper, digging his fingers into her hips with a white knuckle grip. When he finally tossed back his head and groaned out, finding his release, Tosh was already falling from her clouds of ecstasy, unable to move or speak.

Kissing the back of her neck before she felt Richard slowly move along her back to pull himself free of her body, he reached up and unhooked the torn fabric from the hook and untied her wrists, kissing each one tenderly. Rolling her shoulders back, she fought the mild ache and instead focused on the pleasurable hum he had left coursing through her body.

Crossing over to the bar, Richard tucked himself back into his slacks and straightened his clothes. He dropped the tattered bits of Tosh’s white work shirt onto the bar and studied them while he poured himself a bucket of scotch straight up. Despite his passionate assault on her, he was still tense in his broad shoulders and his brow was pinched and calculating.

Letting the cushion fall to the floor, Tosh made a quick exit to her room to pull on the first bra and shirt she could reach in the dresser drawer. After clasping the bra in place, she returned to the living room, pulling a black cotton shirt on and finding him sitting in the high back leather chair that was pointed in her direction. The late afternoon light painted him in shadows, and he looked almost menacing. Slowly, he took a long drink, letting it work its way down his throat while he rested his glass on the arm of the chair, keeping a tight grip on the glass. Tosh could envision him holding a similar hold around her neck and feared his silence more than his screaming when he first came home.

Licking his lips, he took in one more deep breath.

“About eight hours ago I called your cell phone to let you know I’d be detained a couple more days than I had expected no matter how much I wanted to be here with you.”

Tosh opened her mouth to explain, but he released the glass to balance on its own and held up his hand, forcing her to close her mouth again and listen.

“I know you had mentioned your cell phone issues, but I also knew I’d be able to leave a message on the service if it wasn’t repaired and then I called the home phone, but…” Pausing to take another long swig, “but your phone informed me that the number was no longer available and when I called you at home where I had expected you to be there was no answer.”

Slowly standing, he went back to the bar and this time took a moment to open the door to the hidden fridge, adding ice to his glass before pouring himself three fingers worth. Tosh took a hesitant step back and stopped when he shot her a glare that froze her to the floor. She had never seen him so angry and for the first time she felt frightened of her loving Master.

“I cannot tell you how many times I called until I finally called the building security staff to come up and check on you.” Lifting the glass to take a drink, he stopped himself and lowered it to his side instead. He turned away from her to look at the showed patterns on the floor left by the window blinds. She could tell he didn’t see shadows or even the apartment, but that he was lost in his thoughts. “They told me there was no one at home and that they had found a cell phone smashed on the living room floor and some damage to a wall that had probably been the phone's target.

“You’ll never understand what I went through in the hours following that.” Looking up, his eyes bore a tunnel across the room, locking his gaze on Tosh. “I thought the worst. Over and over again, I questioned myself over anyone who could have taken you. I thought you were somewhere dead. I thought…I…I can’t even say the things I thought.”

“I was fine—”Tosh was silenced when Richard flung his drink across the room, smashing it on an innocent wall, splashing scotch in all directions and leaving glass and ice to litter the floor.

Stumbling back in shock, Tosh wrapped her arms around herself in protection and watched Richard walk toward her, clearing the room in a couple strides. He reached up to take her once again by the shoulders, but dropped his arms, clenching his hands into tight white knuckle fists. She could see his arm slack from the strain and two veins popped out of his neck.

“I flew out here praying all the while that I wasn’t too late and that you’d be found safe, but you weren’t here and then I heard from Stephanie how you’ve been leaving every day I’ve been gone. Do you have any idea what hearing that did to me?”

BOOK: Maid For His Submission
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