Waiting for Me (4 page)

I’d been trying to alleviate some of the pressure, but if she made herself any smaller,
she’d disappear. The anger I’d felt in the car when she brought up her ex roared back
to the surface. I’d kicked the wasp’s nest.

“I thought I had a great love,” she said, her voice low and cradled in hurt. She released
a bitter chuckle that turned the salty air to frost. “Well, maybe not a great love,
but it was love. I loved him all of my life. We were best friends for forever, and
when my...” Her voice splintered and the urge to find this boy and beat him bloody
returned with a vengeance.

She drew a lazy circle in the sand with her pointer finger, concentrating on its contours.
I didn’t even have to break a sweat to know that whatever he’d done was the reason
her reservation had changed from two tenants to one...and he was the last thing she
wanted to discuss.

No problem. Any more talk of a man who brought my tiny gladiator to her knees would
result in using my resources to make his life hell.

“How about you?” She broke the silence. “What happened with you and Delilah?”

I wanted to discuss Delilah James even less, but she’d opened up to me. Picked at
a fresh wound; I could do the same. “First off, there was no me and Delilah.” I looked
out at the water, blue and gray and crystal. I backtracked to the night I met the
celebrity darling. “My company, Mason Acquisitions, was holding a charity benefit.
My marketing coordinator had been teasing a special celebrity guest, and the room
went wild when Delilah strutted onto the stage.”

I remembered the slinky red number that clung to every curve, the coy little smile
on her lips. She’d sought me out, fucked me with her dark brown eyes. That night I
had her in the bathroom, wrists bound with my tie as I fucked her until she couldn’t
walk straight. That memory should have made me hard as a rock, but time and drama
drained all pleasure from every tryst we’d ever shared.

“What we had was purely physical—”

“But you were photographed out,” Melissa insisted, still tracing that damn circle.
It was as if she was trying to convince herself that she was right about me. Conveniently
not looking into my eyes to maintain her grip on her confirmation bias. “You were
clearly more than just fuck buddies.”

“Because some tabloid said so? Please,” I scoffed. “It’s in their best interest to
sell their product, scoops on the famous. And who wouldn’t buy an ‘exclusive’ on the
billionaire and the A-list actress?”

She stopped her rotation. “So you two just hooked up.”

“That’s right,” I nodded, even though she’d never know it since she’d turned her attention
back to the water. I followed the line of her jaw, the stubborn set of it unyielding.
“Lunch, dinner, drinks–all of the above can be enjoyed by friends, despite popular
opinion.”

“But you’re not friends anymore.”

“Correct,” I said bluntly. “Our arrangement suited both parties just fine until she
asked for more. I distanced myself and that’s when I discovered letting Delilah James
in my life was an error, to say the least.” A colossal fuck up was closer to the truth.
She started showing up at my office and my home, unannounced. Her calls and texts
became incessant. I ignored my legal counsel when they suggested a restraining order,
and then she released the Kraken...her legion of bloodthirsty fans. Texts, calls,
even one package with white powder that forced us to evacuate Mason Acquisitions headquarters.
Even though it ended up being flour, the damage was done.

“So you really don’t do relationships?” Melissa asked gingerly. “Not ever.”

Her face flitted through my mind. Not Delilah,
her
. A slice from my past that choked my heart.

“I don’t do relationships anymore.
Didn’t
.” I corrected quickly as Melissa’s eyes narrowed. I put the past back where it belonged—behind
me. The pull of Melissa was as strong as the waves that rushed to meet the sand. I
brushed her hair from her eyes. “With you, things are different.”

She nuzzled my hand, then squeezed her eyes shut and pulled away. “I’m a challenge,
or a novelty since I’m nothing like the women you usually dat–” She paused. “Fuck.”

“I admit, you are quite the challenge.” She popped her eyes open, murder in the bright
blue things, but a reluctant smile was on her lips. Her smile burned brighter than
the sun. I wanted to stand in its light and let everything else fade away. She moved
her hand back to the sand, ready to pick back up with the circle. It was her nervous
tick that betrayed her. Even though she acted like she was so sure of me, she wanted
to be wrong.

I put my hand over hers, stopping her. “And you’re not a novelty. You’re...” I searched
for the right word to describe how powerful this attraction was. It hit me and my
lips curled as I said. “Mine.”

****

I
abided her silence for the duration of the ride back to the house, but when she threw
open her door and marched towards the studio, the Dom in me reached his limit.

“Stop right there.”

She did, then caught herself and whipped to face me. “I don't respond well to orders,
Logan.” Her nostrils flared. “Or being reduced to some possession that you own.”

I frowned. “That's what this is about?”

“'You're mine'?” she spat. She jerked her thumb backward, pointing at herself. “No,
I'm
mine
. Most of my life I was my dad's. I did everything to make him notice me. To make
him see me. Even after I followed in his footsteps, I fade into the sea of his other
employees. The only way he gives me a second glance is if I screw up.” Her voice wavered.
“I belonged to Jason. I was his, I told him things, gave him pieces of me, but it
wasn't enough. He was everything to me, but to him I was replaceable.”

The tears that built in her eyes stirred the fire in my gut. “Any man that ever made
you feel like you were something to be discarded—”

“But don't you do the same thing?” she said tersely, tears threatening to spill down
her cheeks. “You play and then you move on to the next. If Delilah freaking James
can't hold your attention then how—”

She hitched a breath as I held her, one hand cupping each cheek. Holding her steady.
Forcing her to look me in the eye and hear every word.

“You're not Delilah.”

She sucked in a gasp, her cheeks darkening like she was offended. “Oh, I'm aware I'm
not a—”

I muted her retort with my lips. She didn't even put up a fight, her lips parting
willingly with a tortured moan. It was the most beautiful surrender, my tongue dominating
hers, dueling with hers, trying to put her worries to rest. She could stop putting
Delilah on a pedestal, because she wasn't even a blip on my radar. Every part of me
was tuned into Melissa. I felt the way she sucked in a breath when I took her bottom
lip between my teeth and tugged. I felt her body becoming liquid and fluid beneath
my touch. I pulled back, still holding her. Not wanting to let go. Her eyes were shut,
lips still pursed like she was reliving the kiss.

They fluttered open, her bruised pink lips trembling as she drug her tongue across
it, collecting herself. “You're playing dirty.”

“That's the only way to play,” I said huskily. I traced the outline of her lips with
my finger, already planning its next destination. Down the nape of her neck, skating
over the curvature of her breasts. Lingering at the nipple, flicking the nub as desire
gripped her and stubbornness faded. Just as I was about to put my plan into action,
I met those wild blue eyes and paused. I was the reader, so good at gauging reactions
and determining how virtually anyone would proceed in any given situation, but she
was evaluating
me
. Lip stuck out defiantly, but eyes electric and waiting for my touch.

I trailed my finger down, noting the nervous swallow and slight tremor that rippled
over her body as I stroked her collarbone. Even though I knew she’d be evasive, reluctant
to admit what her body was shouting, I asked her anyway. “What are you thinking, Melissa?”

She nibbled on her bottom lip, heat spreading across her face like wildfire. “Currently?”
She sniffed, struggling to regain her composure. It was too late for all of that.
She could deflect, but I could feel the lust radiating from her. Warm and lush and
inviting. If I slipped my hand inside her pants and thrust my fingers inside her,
I knew she’d coat me in her juices. From the way she tore into her lip, she wanted
me to make it easy for her and just do the thing we both craved: take her. The need
in me wanted to push her back against the palm tree and fuck her hard. The Dom in
me refused to make it so easy.

My fingers fanned out and clutched her throat. Not tightly, she wasn’t ready for that
yet, but firm enough that I had her attention. Most women would have responded to
the gesture in a disgusted, appalled fashion. Melissa’s breath quickened and her eyes
widened in wonder.

I relaxed my hold slightly, smiling on the inside. “When I ask you a question, I expect
an answer.”

She licked her lips, her eyes dropping. When she looked back up, she gave me a grimace
of a smile. “What was the question again?”

“What are you thinking?”

Her lips quivered and my cock pulsed uncomfortably against my fly, wondering what
her answer would be. Hoping for the words ‘I’m yours’, but not naïve enough to expect
it.

She lifted her chin, the edge returning to her voice. “I thought you weren’t touching
me until I begged for it.”

I smirked. “I’m afraid I have to break that promise. No touching? I couldn’t not touch
you even if I wanted to.” My voice darkened. “But fucking you? That’s a different
story.”

I expected spunk. Attitude. Righteous indignation as she stomped away in a huff. Instead
her eyes darkened in kind, accepting my challenge.

So stubborn.

Such a fighter.

So fucking hot.

She slid closer, her voice low and sensual. “You want me to beg for it? Beg for this?”

She wouldn’t...oh, but she did. I gritted my teeth to keep my moan from escaping as
she stroked my cock. Even though I ached to tear the clothing from her body and push
her against the glass sliding door and slam inside her pussy, I couldn’t reward her
bad behavior. Moan or not, she was holding rock hard evidence that a part of me was
begging for
her
.

Her lips curled deviously, a smug curve that I wanted to trace with my tongue.

My voice was like gravel. “For someone that can’t admit their submissive tendencies,
you seem to have brat down.”

“Brat?” She batted her eyes with an innocence as guilty as sin.

“That’s right.” It was the last thing I wanted, but I stopped her mid stroke. I gripped
her wrist, holding her hand suspended above my engorged cock. All the blood in me
diverted to my groin. Every part of me ached to be inside her. Between her lips. Between
her thighs. But she needed to learn her place. “I’ve been playing fast and loose with
the rules, but on this, I must insist.”

Her nostrils flared defiantly. “You want me to say I’m submissive.”

“That’s right.” I strode forward, driving her backwards until she was against the
sliding glass door. My eyes raked over her, skimming the tight lines of her legs,
the curve of her hips. The tease of the core I knew was slick beneath her leggings.
The tease of her navel, drawing up and circling the taught nipple that beckoned me.
Her chest heaved up and down, matching the shuddering excitement that stroked her
cherry red lips. Her nostrils were the only thing holding on, all but releasing puffs
of smoke like a bull with a matador in its sights. Her eyes, wide and blue, were all
but begging. Begging me not to make her say the words.

I wouldn’t make it that easy.

I propped my hand on the door, smiling because I knew I had her right where I wanted
her. “There’s no point in fighting it, Melissa.” I leaned down, lips brushing her
ear. A delicious shiver rippled through her. Through me. “It’s just two words.”

She nibbled on her bottom lip. That slight show of vulnerability made me want to scoop
her up. Protect her from all harm.

“Deep down, I know that I have needs. I know that word is what I am, but saying it—”
She stopped, licking her lips and smoothing her blonde hair away from her face. “If
I say the word, I’m admitting he was right.”

“He?” I frowned. “The ex.”

She lowered her chin to her chest. “He was right to leave because what I want, what
I need, isn’t normal.”

So there it was, the truth behind why she seemed so adamantly against what was so
blatant and obvious. I gently brought her chin up. “They really did a number on you,
didn’t they?”

Her brow furrowed. “They?”

“Jason.” I gargled the prick’s name and spit it out. Although I shied from that level
of commitment myself, I had little respect for someone that said those three words
and broke my Melissa so completely. But he wasn’t the only one. “And your father.”

Her mouth hung open. “My dad? No, he—”

“Hurt you just as deeply. You felt like you couldn’t be yourself around the two men
who meant the most to you.” I knew I should let that thought sink in, but she was
so tortured that I couldn’t resist. I pressed my lips against hers. I made a promise
that I hadn’t made in a long time. A promise that was deeper than sex, deeper the
bonds of a Master and a submissive. A promise of the heart.

My forehead against hers, hands cupping both sides of her face, I looked deep into
her eyes. “You’re safe with me, Melissa. You don’t have to hide or pretend or worry
that I’ll run. I’m right here.”

Her eyes fluttered closes, her lips sparing nothing as she let me hold her. My words
rippled over her, the fight conceded, her body arching into mine. When she opened
her eyes, waves of relief and excitement tumbled and crashed. She skimmed my jaw with
her lips, the light touch waking up something inside me. Something I thought I’d never
find again.