Mastered (The Enforcers #1) (16 page)

Eager to comply with his wishes, she quickly did as he instructed and he pushed forward another inch, eliciting a gasp from both of them.

“Do it, Drake,” she whispered. “You won't hurt me. You'll never hurt me. Take me. Make me yours. Please. I
need
you. So much. I need you. I need
this
.”

He groaned and seemed to wage an inner war with himself, but her “please,” or maybe that she'd said she'd needed him, seemed to push him over the edge and he surged forward in a forceful lunge that seated him to the balls deep inside her.

Her eyes flew open as she was bombarded with a hundred different overwhelming sensations. And not one of them was pain. She tightened her legs around him. She dug her nails into his shoulders. And she arched upward to take as much of him as she could.

Still, he thrust back and forth in a slow rhythm, sinking as deep as he could before withdrawing until the tip on his head barely breached her opening, and then he would languidly glide back to his fullest depth.

Evangeline had never felt anything more beautiful in her life. And she never would. She knew that as surely as she knew the sun rose every morning. Her orgasm was blooming like a flower unfurling under a ray
of sunshine, and she felt Drake tense above her and knew he was as close as she was. The night he'd brought her to orgasm in his office had been a fast climb to an overwhelming explosion that had left her shattered. This was something so much sweeter, yet no less intense or shattering to her senses. This wasn't merely physical, as it had been then. Her heart was already fast becoming involved, and she was helpless to stop it.

“Together,” she whispered. “I'm so close, Drake. I can't—won't—last much longer.”

“Then let go. We'll go together,” he whispered in her ear.

The world blurred around her but the one thing that remained sharply in focus was Drake's face above hers, him kissing her with breathless passion and tenderness shining in his eyes. Finally it was too much and she latched on to Drake, wrapping every part of her body around him as she began to shatter into a million pieces, like stars scattered haphazardly across a clear night.

He emitted a hoarse shout and then carefully lowered himself onto her body, his hips still gently pumping into her body until finally they stilled and they lay quiet and breathless in the aftermath of something Evangeline had no words for. For something that defied explanation.

Now she knew what it was supposed to be like, and her only regret was that Drake
hadn't
been her first. But no. He'd told her this
was
the first—
he
was the first. Eddie was forgotten, never to be remembered again. Now there was only Drake.

“Be right back, my angel,” he whispered. “Need to get rid of the condom, but you don't move.”

As if she could. She was utterly boneless and couldn't move if she tried. A few seconds later, Drake crawled into the bed with her and turned them on their sides so they faced each other.

He cupped her cheek and caressed softly. “It won't always be like this. But you needed it this way this time. The way it should have been your first time instead of that asshole hurting you, taking his pleasure
and giving none in return. You should have been handled with care and cherished and made love to as tenderly as a woman ever was. I meant what I said. I want you to consider
this
your first time and forget the other dickhead ever existed.”

Oh but the man had a way of slipping right past her barriers and setting her world to rights, as crazy as that sounded, considering he'd done nothing but upend her world ever since entering it.

She snuggled into his arms, warm and sated, and couldn't resist running her hands over the muscled walls of his chest and abdomen. Over his shoulders and well-defined arms that bespoke a strict training regimen. This was no man who spent all his time behind a desk, eating good food without care for his body.

He stroked his hand through her long tresses, pausing every once in a while to press a kiss to her temple, her forehead, her lips and even her eyelids.

As some of the hazy euphoria subsided, his earlier words floated back to her and she cocked her head back so she could look at him in the dim light cast only by one lamp in the room.

“Drake?”

“Yes, Angel?”

“What did you mean?”

He kissed her softly before pulling away. “About what?”

“When you said it wouldn't always be like this. What did that mean?”

He cupped her jaw, his eyes suddenly serious. “You know what I am, what I want and what I expect.”

She nodded.

“I only meant that our lovemaking won't always be as it was tonight. I enjoy a variety of methods of sex. Rough, soft, hard, sweet. Bondage, spanking, you at my complete mercy, me in control at all times. I enjoy kink. I like the idea of my woman being available to me at all times. And after tonight, there will be no condoms. When I come, it'll be inside you,
not a damn rubber. I'll provide you my most recent lab results, and I'll set up an appointment immediately so you have birth control.”

Her eyes lowered a moment, but he caught her chin and tipped it back upward, question hovering in his gaze.

“What if I disappoint you, Drake?” she asked hesitantly. “You know I'm not experienced. And that I have no experience in your . . . world. Or with your expectations.”

He smiled and kissed her again. “First, I'm going to delight in teaching you everything you need to know to please me, just as I'll learn what pleases you. And second, as long as you give me what you gave me tonight—your surrender, your sweetness, your complete and utter submission—you will never disappoint me, Angel. You shine, baby, from the inside out, and it's the most beautiful fucking thing I've ever seen in my life. You won't disappoint me. It simply isn't possible. I, on the other hand, will likely disappoint you, frustrate you and anger you on a regular basis. I'm a demanding bastard and my demands will, at times, be extreme. But if you stick with me, Angel, if you stay with me and tough it out, and if you don't take back the trust you've granted me, I guarantee you're going to enjoy the ride.”

Once again Evangeline awoke, snuggled warmly in Drake's bed. Only to find it empty. As she'd done the morning before, she reached over to feel any lingering warmth from his body only to find the sheets chilled, though the indention of his body was still present.

She sighed, wondering if the man ever slept. He obviously kept unusual hours, although he had been home at six the previous evening. Was that an exception for her? Or was his being at his club at four in the morning the exception because she'd kept him waiting?

Who knew? But after last night and her agreeing to . . . well, she wasn't entirely certain what she'd embarked on. Oh, he'd been clear enough on his expectations and the kind of relationship they'd have, but there were still a million questions circling her mind. What sane person wouldn't be questioning such a circumstance? But then a sane person wouldn't be in a man's bed for the second morning in a row barely even knowing the man in question, much less have agreed to submit to him in
all
things.

Her hand brushed over something hard against the softness of the sumptuous sheets and she frowned, sitting up. She pulled the covers up
to cover her breasts and then laughed. Who was she hiding herself from? There was no one here.

She eyed the box with trepidation, recognizing it as being almost identical in shape and size to the gift he'd presented her with the night before. Her hand went automatically to the necklace he'd given her that still hung around her neck.

Her heart sank. Was this another outrageously expensive gift?

There was a note beside it, but she couldn't bring herself to read it before opening the box that sat there as if taunting her. She made quick work of it this time and opened the jeweler's box to reveal a stunning pair of diamond solitaire earrings.

Oh. My. God.

All she could do was stare in absolute befuddlement. They were huge. She had no idea what constituted a carat, but these had to be in the multiple-carat class of diamond earrings. She hadn't seen
rings
with diamonds this big. And she was supposed to wear them? What if one fell off? What if she lost one?

She could probably buy a house back home with what these earrings cost. It made her faintly ill to be holding something so valuable in her hands, and she hastily set them away and picked up the note.

Jax will come by the apartment at one o'clock to pick you up and bring you to the club. Dress casual, but bring something dressy and sexy to change into later. You'll spend the day with me and come home with me from the club late tonight. I hope you like the earrings. You outshine them any day of the week, but I want my angel to sparkle. Plan to have lunch and dinner with me.

She sagged. Was he purposely keeping her off balance by throwing a new man at her at every turn, or was he simply introducing her to
each of the men he insisted would accompany her any time he wasn't with her?

She stared at the glittering diamonds and knew now she'd have to wear them or risk angering him by rejecting his gift. She would just pray one didn't fall off or she didn't misplace them when she took them off at the end of the evening.

Then when she checked the time, she panicked. Drake had told her Jax, whoever he was, would be there at one. It was ten past one now! She
never
slept this late. Even after a long shift, she was always up before the others. There were too many things to do, too many responsibilities to take care of.

Unbidden, something Drake had said the previous evening came to mind. He'd wanted her parents' account number and routing number. She had them, of course, but how was she to explain the sudden influx of money into their account? Never once had she lied to her mother, but she was sorely tempted to tell her something outlandish like she'd won the lottery or something equally absurd.

She was well on her way to a full-scale panic attack when she heard a voice in the distance.

“Yo, Evangeline. Jax here. Drake wanted me to pick you up at one. You need to get a move on. The boss doesn't like to be kept waiting.”

She jumped and nearly shrieked but clamped a hand over her mouth to prevent sound from escaping. Her heart was racing from the unexpected fright. And then she got pissed. She was really tired of hearing that Drake didn't like to be kept waiting.

“You tell Drake that he'll just have to get over it,” Evangeline yelled crossly. “I'll be ready when I'm ready and not before.”

A deep male chuckle was her only response.

Despite her bravado, she scrambled out of bed, turning in circles as she tried to figure out what to do first. Shower. Right. Then she'd figure out what to wear. She would have to figure out how to tackle the issue
of her parents when she got to the club because she didn't have time for that kind of a phone call right now.

She was in and out in five minutes, hastily combing through her wet hair and towel-drying the strands as much as possible. Then she headed for the closet where all her things had been put.

Casual. Okay, she could do casual. Casual she was well acquainted with. It was the dressy part that she was clueless about. What exactly did Drake consider dressy?

She chose a pair of outrageously expensive but oh-so-very-comfortable jeans that made her sigh when she pulled them on. Then she grabbed one of the lacy push-up bras she'd chosen and turned her attention to what top she should wear.

The last couple of days had been cooler, though summer hadn't quite given way to fall yet, and she remembered that Drake's office felt like a meat locker, so she picked a short-sleeved cashmere sweater with a plunging neckline with folds that discreetly covered everything it should.

As for the shoes, she went straight for the sparkly pair of flats that she simply hadn't been able to resist.

And then remembering his directive, she hurried into the bedroom and gingerly unfastened the earrings from the holder in the box and slid them into her ears. Nervously, she went to the mirror to check her appearance and stood staring back at a woman she didn't recognize. Her hair was disheveled and her lips were still faintly swollen from Drake's passionate kisses. Most notably, there was a glow to her cheeks and to her eyes that suggested a well-satisfied woman. She looked almost . . .
pretty
. Then she chastised herself for already getting caught up in this make-believe world she'd been transported to and reminded herself that she was still the same average Evangeline. More expensive clothing and jewelry didn't miraculously transform her into something she wasn't, and it was dangerous to get caught up in the fantasy, even if for the barest of moments. It was thoughts like these that would set
her up for a horrendous reality check and a fall right back into the world she
really
belonged in.

Knowing she had limited time, she only applied the bare minimum makeup and a sheer lip gloss and then finished with a few swipes of mascara to highlight what she admitted was her one redeeming quality. Her eyes.

But then dread took hold, because she still had to figure out what to bring to change into later. The last thing she wanted was to make a fool of herself or worse, embarrass Drake. Short of calling him and asking him exactly what he wanted her to wear, her only other option was . . . Jax.

She groaned but what the heck. It wasn't as if she hadn't already made a fool of herself in front of every other one of his men. No reason for Jax to be excluded. He'd probably already heard about her anyway and was cursing the fact he'd drawn the short straw today. Or maybe he'd volunteered, wanting to see the train wreck in person.

Nervously she walked out of the bedroom, peeking toward the living room to see a large man sprawled across Drake's couch, remote in hand, a drink in the other.

“Um, Mr. Jax?” she asked cautiously.

Then he turned and she took an instinctive step back. Yes, all of Drake's men were hot badasses who didn't smile and were hardheaded, but this guy was huge! He had tattoo sleeves covering the length of both arms, and the design continued up around his neck, making her wonder if his entire upper torso was one giant work of art. He wore at least three earrings in each ear and his hair was long and unruly in a total “I don't give a fuck” kind of way.

But his eyes. Whoa. His hair was black as a raven's wing, but his eyes were crystalline blue. All she could do was stare mutely as he stared back, obviously waiting to hear what she was going to ask. For that matter, what
had
she been going to ask?

Then he smiled, and as with the others, that smile transformed him from a man not to be fucked with to a man who would stop traffic with only that smile. He stood and walked slowly toward her, almost as if he sensed she might run back into the bedroom and shut the door.

“Just Jax. And you must be Evangeline, unless Drake has two gorgeous blue-eyed blondes holed up in his apartment,” he said with a flirtatious grin. “Was there a problem? Do you need something?”

His voice had softened and he stopped several feet away from her, whether by coincidence or out of deference to her obvious nervousness.

“Um, yes. I mean no.” She groaned and smacked her forehead.

Jax laughed. “Which is it?”

“Yes, I'm Evangeline, and no, he doesn't have two women in this apartment. At least he better not.” She muttered the last under her breath but knew he'd heard when Jax's lips twitched and his eyes gleamed with amusement.

“They weren't wrong about you,” Jax said, cocking his head sideways, as though studying her.

Her gaze narrowed. “Who? What are you talking about?” Damn it, she knew she'd been set up as today's amusement for the new guy.

He just grinned. “What can I do for you, Miss Evangeline?”

Then she remembered the whole reason she'd come in search of Jax and wanted to die of embarrassment. She closed her eyes, her face on fire. How did she stand a chance of surviving a single day in Drake's world much less a significant length of time?

Jax softened at the sight of the gorgeous, sweet woman staring at him in obvious distress. Damn, but the others had been right. Her agitation made him want to do whatever had to be done to correct the matter. He'd laughed at Thane, Maddox and Justice when they'd extolled her virtues and told him the impossible. That she was the real deal. Too sweet and innocent for her own good but a tigress when it came to defending people she felt were wronged.

“Evangeline, what's wrong?” he asked gently. “What can I do to help?”

Oh shit. She looked like she was about to burst into tears. If there was one thing he couldn't handle, it was a crying woman.

Instead of responding, she thrust a piece of paper at him. Puzzled, he opened it and read Drake's distinctive scrawl and then looked back up at Evangeline, who was growing more anxious by the minute.

What on earth in Drake's note could cause her this much upset? It was straightforward. Typical Drake. He didn't see anything that should have caused Evangeline to react with such panic.

“What does he mean by dressy and sexy?” she asked, her voice rising with each word. “I'm
not
sexy and I have no idea what his definition of dressy is because believe me, my definition and his are miles apart. And as I'm obviously not sexy, how the hell would I know how to dress the part?”

Jax's mouth fell open. Not sexy? Was she crazy?

“I don't want to embarrass him,” Evangeline whispered, tears filling her eyes.

It was all he could do not to pull her into his arms and hug her. For God's sake. He was contemplating hugging someone? He should have known he was being set up when it was suggested that he be the one to collect Evangeline. Since she needed to meet all of Drake's men, Maddox had smugly pointed out.

Jax's lips made a firm line, and then he reached out and took Evangeline's hand, tugging her behind him as he headed toward the closet. He was no fashionista, but he sure as hell knew what looked good on a woman. Especially a woman like Evangeline. Hell, she'd look good in a sackcloth. What the hell was wrong with Drake that his woman didn't think she was sexy? Because if Evangeline belonged to Jax, not a single day would go by that she wouldn't know exactly how desirable she was.

“
You
, stand there,” he directed, planting Evangeline in the middle of
the huge walk-in closet. “Now, what you have on now is perfect for casual. You totally rock that look. I expect Drake will be in a foul mood whenever another man has to come into his office.”

She looked at him like she had no clue what he was talking about.

Jax nearly shook his head. Hell, the others hadn't been fucking with him about Drake's woman. They'd been telling him the honest truth.

“Dressy and sexy for a night at the club means something a little more glittery, fun, even daring.” Though he wondered if he should have included that last part. It might get his ass kicked by Drake if his woman showed up in something too revealing and Jax and the others had to spend the entire evening beating other men's asses for ogling
Evangeline's
sweet ass.