Submit and Surrender (10 page)

That gnawing terror crept in to her thoughts then, that sense that needing someone would be the worst possible thing she could do, and that she might not be able to prevent it from happening. Which turned out to be a good thing, because Adra did what she always did when she felt frightened: she held her head high.

And saw a goddamned photographer.

The man was in the bushes. The actual, real life, bushes. Pointing a camera at her while she lay out half clothed in the sun.

For a second, they stared at each other.

And then Adra shouted, “Are you fucking
kidding
me?”

She surprised herself with her reflexes. She’d always been kind of quick when she was pissed off, and the idea that this scumbag had just been taking photos of her while she contemplated the most intimate, important facts of her life enraged the hell out of her. Which must have surprised the photographer, because she actually blocked his exit out.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Adra demanded. “Give me that camera!”

“What? No!” he shouted back as Adra grabbed at it. It was huge, an easy target.

“Give me the freaking camera!”

Adra might have had the element of surprise and general shock, considering the photographer probably never expected to be tackled by a female featherweight, but that didn’t last. There was a definite moment, when they were both struggling for the camera, when it became obvious that no, this was a fully grown man, and this was not a fair fight.

“This is private property, you bitch!” the photographer screamed and yanked at the equipment with his full strength, sending Adra sprawling backwards.

And right into Ford.

She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. She recognized the feel of him. The size of him. The planes and angles of his muscled torso, the strength of his arms, the roughness of his callused fingers.

He’d caught her, the way he had before, and this time she couldn’t fight it.

She forgot about the photographer.

She forgot about her brother.

And she forgot about the looming dread she felt whenever she thought about letting herself give in to it.

She looked up at him, dazed and dizzy, as he spun her around. She felt her fingers on his chest, and couldn’t help but press into his hard flesh, couldn’t help but feel the warmth start to spread, the beat start to throb between her legs, and she thought,
Oh God, this is happening.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “Yes. I just…”

She shook her head.

“He was taking pictures. From the bushes. We got into an argument about it.”

Adra looked over at the photographer who was busily checking his camera for damage, muttering to himself.

When she looked back, Ford was still looking at her with an intensity that left her breathless.

“But you’re ok?” he asked again.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said.

“Excuse me,” Ford said.

He stepped around Adra and walked toward the photographer.

Adra couldn’t see Ford’s face, but she recognized that body language. He’d looked like that when he’d confronted Derrick for being rude on the very first day, only this time he looked much, much more dangerous. He looked like the Terminator, walking toward his target with that inexorable sense of destruction.

Whatever the photographer saw on Ford’s face, it scared the crap out of him.

“You called her a bitch,” Ford said. “And you took pictures of her without her consent. Is that correct?”

“I’m just doing my job, man,” the photographer said. He raised the camera again, like it was a means of self-defense. “Maybe she shouldn’t be out where anybody can—”

Ford knocked the camera out the man’s hands, sending it flying into the koi pond.

“
This
is private property,” Ford said. “You are trespassing. And the only reason I’m not grinding you into the dirt is because she wouldn’t like it. Adra, do you want me to hold him for the police?”

Adra knew she shouldn’t be smiling. She really shouldn’t. But that scumbag had made her feel somewhat violated, and now it felt like she had the world’s biggest, baddest pit bull on a leash.

Sometimes you just had to take a win where you found it.

“No, thank you,” she said. “The camera was enough. Now I just want him gone.”

“Are you going to let me throw you over the wall,” Ford asked the photographer. “Or are you going to climb?”

He climbed.

And then, suddenly, they were alone.

And as soon as that photographer had cleared the wall, Ford was back at Adra’s side, in front of her, running his hands down her arms, her cheek, her neck, as though he were checking for cracks in fine china, his eyes burning and his body seemingly oblivious to the effect he was having on her. She was dizzy, drunk with it all over again, her mouth refusing to form words lest they get him to stop what he was doing.

“You’re ok?”

She nodded.

“I am so sorry, Adra,” he said, his voice rough. “That was completely unacceptable. That will never, never happen again, I promise you. Look at me,” he said.

He tilted her chin up toward his, and his blue eyes locked on hers.

“I promise you,” he said.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said, legitimately confused.

“I said I’d keep these people out,” Ford said. “And I said I’d make sure you had time after this morning.”

This morning.

Adra shuddered. Just the mention of it, and the sensations poured over her again. The memory of the complete control he had over her
mind
…she’d had no idea he was such a good Dom.

No, she had. She just hadn’t let herself think about too much. No point in driving yourself crazy with what you can’t have.

Except now it was all she could think about.

“You gave me time,” she said quietly. “Plenty of time.”

“Do you need more?”

Adra swallowed. His hands were still on her shoulders, his thumbs resting on her collarbone.

“No,” she said. “No, I’m ok. It was…it was ok, Ford.”

Adra studied his face, looking for a sign, any sign at all, about what he was thinking. He hadn’t needed time to collect himself, to recover, to process. Had it really not affected him the way it had affected her? Oh God, what if it hadn’t? What if it was just routine for him, just a scene, not something that grabbed him from the inside and wouldn’t let go?

“Adra, are you all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she said, and forced herself to look away. “I’m totally fine.”

She stepped away, and Ford released her. The sudden absence of his hands felt cold.

“Santos wanted to know if you were available to coach the second scene this afternoon,” Ford said. “I offered to do it alone, but he thinks he needs a sub’s perspective.”

Adra licked her lips. Her mouth was dry. Could she do it again? With Ford? It was like entering the Thunderdome or something. She was still wrecked from this morning.

“I can tell them no,” Ford said. “I can tell them to fuck off, right now, if you want me to. I’ll get them all out of here.”

Adra smiled. That was insane.

“No,” she said. “I said I was fine. Let’s go do our jobs.”

“Our stupid, stupid jobs,” Ford said. “Remember when you were only an agent?”

“And you were only a lawyer?”

“We had no idea how good we had it.”

No
, Adra thought.
No, we didn’t
.

“Any idea what Santos wants from me?” Adra asked.

Ford held open the door to Volare, his face darkening slightly.

“I can’t wait to find out,” he said.

As he walked Adra back inside, Ford kept thinking about this old television show he used to watch as a kid. It was the first version of the Hulk that he’d ever seen, the mild mannered doctor who, when provoked, would turn into this crazy green giant and violently save the day. Only Ford’s inner hulk was his dominant nature. And he felt like he was on the verge of Dom-ing out every time he touched Adra’s skin. Every time he saw her brush the hair out of her face. Every time he saw an emotion, any emotion, pass across her beautiful face, and that was all the damn time, because he didn’t know anyone who felt as much as Adra.

He was doing everything he could to rein in his inner Dom until he was sure. And she was making it damn hard.

And more than that—definitely more than that—he wanted to protect her.
Needed
to protect her. He couldn’t believe he’d allowed a goddamn photographer to get that close to her, but he knew his anger over that had as much to do with what had happened between them this morning as it did anything else.

After all, the damn photographer hadn’t messed with her head by spontaneously dominating her. Ford had.

That morning, with the scene, there had just been…something. Some moment. One of those crystalline moments when it was suddenly clear what was what, what needed to be done, and who needed to do it. One of those few moments that happened in a lifetime, and Ford had seized it. And it led him to the inescapable conclusion that Adra was the perfect sub for him.

No. Not just perfect for him. Adra
was
his sub. He was her Dom. They both knew it. And there was no escaping it.

There was only dealing with it.

He didn’t understand what had made her run away from him after they slept together, but now he was damn sure going to do his best to try. One thing he was sure of: it was more complicated than ‘she played games.’ He’d been an idiot on that front. He’d been a selfish, proud idiot. He should have given her more credit. And whatever was going on with Adra, whatever she hid away from everyone, whatever led her to believe that they couldn’t be together, it wasn’t just hers anymore.

It was theirs, together.

He’d walk away if that was what she needed. He would always, always do whatever she needed. And if whatever was going on with her meant that they couldn’t be together, well, then that’s what it meant. But he was damn sure going to find out why.

“Ford?”

Her voice shook him out of his thoughts. His whole world had narrowed to where Adra was, and now, all of a sudden, he was in the middle of a freaking film set.

It was insanity.

There were stand-ins being positioned about while tech guys shown lights at them, figuring out how to light the shot, there were sound guys yelling at the lighting guys, there were production assistants running around everywhere, and Santos, in the middle of it, was sitting in his director’s chair looking morose. And staring at Adra.

To be fair, so were Olivia and Derrick. And those two had had a rough day already.

“We have had to change the shooting schedule again,” Santos said.

Jesus
. This production was just one clown parade after another.

“So what do you need our help with?” Ford asked, keeping his eye on Adra. She still looked a little shaky.

Without thinking, he put his hand on the small of her back.

Shocks.

Immediate shocks, shooting up his arm, through his body, making his cock come alive. He saw Adra’s body go rigid, knew it had hit her just as hard. He removed his hand like he’d been burned.

Fuck.

“We need to do the
shibari
scene,” Santos said. He looked at Adra. “She will help.”

For a long second, Adra didn’t say anything.

“I can certainly tell you about rope bondage,” Adra began, “but I don’t know if—”

“No, you’ll do it first, to show her,” Santos said, pointing at Olivia. “We have only one shot.”

Ford knew there were important things going on, but he was fucking mesmerized. He put his hand full flat on her back, let it slide down over to her hip. Watched her breathing change. Watched her back straighten.

Knew exactly what she was feeling.

Knew exactly what she would say.

“No,” she said to Santos.

Santos opened his mouth, but Ford cut him off.

“She said no,” Ford said.

She was his, and nothing else mattered.

“Um, I can do it myself without Adra,” Olivia said into the silence. “I mean, I think I would like to know what it’s like, if there’s someone who can show me. I can practice, and that…I think that will be fine.”

Under different circumstances, Ford would be noting all the details of Olivia’s emerging interest in submission, of her curiosity and openness. He’d be thinking of the appropriate Dom to set her up with, of the right way to introduce her to the club, the lifestyle. But there wasn’t much room for anything or anyone besides Adra at the moment.

As it was, he had to tear himself away to make sure someone was looking out for Olivia.

“You’ll do it with expert supervision,” he said shortly. “I will send two masters down, one male, one female. Your choice, but you will be monitored, and they may safeword you out. They will answer any questions you might have. You will be taken care of. Is that something you can do, Olivia?”