Wanting Wilder (3 page)

Two extremely tall, well-built men and an average-height woman occupied seats at the kiosk located strategically to prevent the entry of unauthorized persons into the rest of the building. They wore navy blue security uniforms that seemed tailored to fit each person.

Lydia smiled inwardly at her clothing choice. At the core, it was a simple business skirt and matching blouse. The peach fabric managed to be both soft and serious. It brought out the rosy glow of her skin without making her appear sallow. The cut flattered every curve on her body and did a great job of camouflaging the flaws.

Wearing skirts had always made Lydia feel the power of her femininity. Today’s skirt slimmed her hips and emphasized the shapeliness of her legs. The cut of the blouse somehow lengthened her torso. Lydia had always been short, but she’d never considered herself petite, two attributes people assumed came hand in hand.

They didn’t.

She had arrived the night before, an entire day early. She liked to be early. A company car would have been waiting for her at the airport if she had notified them of her change in plans. As it was, she had rented a car. Being a native Michigander, she felt the need for a set of wheels all her own.

Thanks to Micah’s insistence on flying to Michigan for the interview, Lydia had never been to Vermont. She’d never even vacationed there. Now she would call it home.

The refrigerator had been stocked by someone who knew what kinds of food she liked. The apartment, much too large for one person, covered almost one thousand square feet, and it came furnished. Lydia had brought a few pieces of her furniture, which the company had shipped at their expense. Those things had been integrated into the rooms by someone with a professional decorator’s eye. The rest of her belongings were being stored somewhere.

The high-ceilinged rooms were nice, and the master bedroom was huge. The bed didn’t seem overly large at first, but when she stretched out on it, she realized how freaking big it was. The size of the room disguised the mass of the bed. She could share the bed and never come into contact with her companion.

Since her clothes and other personal things had been unpacked into that room, Lydia had dumped her luggage inside and crashed on top of the covers, the soft bed enveloping her like a lover’s arms. She had slept solidly.

In the morning, she realized one whole glass wall revealed a spectacular mountain view. When she opened the heavy sliding door, she could hear her neighbors breakfasting on their balcony, but she couldn’t see them. She could have dined on her balcony naked, and nobody would be able to see. Well, unless one of the people in those distant houses that dotted the side of the mountain had a telescope.

She pasted on a friendly, authoritative smile as she approached the kiosk. The woman smiled back, her bright face open and friendly. The men flanked her. They examined Lydia closely, their stony faces concealing every thought.

They were exceptionally handsome men. Both towered above her by more than a foot. Muscles flexed under their shirts, straining at the fabric. The one on the right had brown eyes and brown hair clipped short in a military style. The one on the left had blue eyes and brown hair that he had let grow a little longer, though it was still very short.

She directed her attention to the woman. “I’m Lydia O’Neill.”

The woman’s smile grew. “Ms. O’Neill. I’ve been expecting you. I heard you like to get an early start.”

Lydia nodded and admitted to something so many people considered a fault. “I am a morning person.” Never mind she was an entire day early.

“Me too,” she said. “I’m Eva Miroslav, the head of building security. These are my assistants, Pete and Sam.”

From the way she gestured, Lydia deduced that Pete had the brown eyes and Sam had the blue eyes. Both had perfected the interrogation stare. They used it like Doms accustomed to getting their way. Lydia refused to show the discomfort prickling down her spine.

Eva pushed a manila envelope across the counter. “You’ll find your ID and key card in here.”

Lydia ripped the top of the envelope and reached inside. She clipped the plastic picture ID to her blouse and slipped the key card into her purse. “Thanks,” she said. “Any idea where my office is?”

Sam stepped forward. “I’ll escort you upstairs.”

Pete extracted a cell phone from his pocket. “I’ll contact her security detail. He’ll want to know she’s here.”

Lydia lifted a brow. “Security detail?”

“Company policy,” Eva said. Her wide smile grew wider.

Though Lydia hadn’t seen much of the town, she had definitely researched the crime statistics. In the past five years, only one crime had been recorded, and that had been shoplifting. She blinked. “Why do I need a security detail?”

“It’s not security in the bodyguard sense,” Eva said. “He’s responsible for your orientation. Don’t worry. You’ll love him. Everybody does.”

Eva twitched, and her complexion turned decidedly pinker. Lydia frowned, but she didn’t pursue the line of questioning.

“Thank you,” she said to Eva. With the tilt of her head, she indicated to Sam that she was ready to proceed to her office.

* * * *

The owner of Elmhurst topped off Wilder’s coffee as he listened to Pete’s update. His buddy sounded amused, but he refrained from voicing whatever had tickled his funny bone. Wilder nodded his thanks to Lloyd, who grinned and wandered to the next table. After a few seconds, Wilder pressed the button to end his call and slid his cell into the pocket on his loose jeans. Trust their uptight new executive to throw a wrench into his meticulously constructed plans before he was able to put anything into motion. Her flight wasn’t scheduled to arrive for three more hours, yet Pete had just informed him that Lydia had collected her ID packet and was now in her office.

She wouldn’t be allowed to assume her position until he cleared her for duty. Oasis management firmly subscribed to the belief that nobody could orchestrate the fulfillment of another person’s dreams until they understood what it was like to have at least one wish become real.

And Lydia hadn’t filled out her paperwork properly. An incomplete fantasy wasn’t impossible to fulfill, but it was damn difficult. Wilder had been unable to read between the lines enough to figure out what she really wanted. Sure, she’d attended to the checklists of permissions and hard limits, but he had the feeling she hadn’t read the questions too closely. Inconsistencies were also difficult to navigate. It was a good thing he remembered many of her preferences from their too-brief encounter eight years ago.

No, that was a lie. He remembered all her preferences in vivid detail. When Micah had returned from his trip with a shit-eating grin, Wilder hadn’t been worried. Finding someone with the perfect combination of traits to work at Oasis wasn’t easy. Procuring her was a feat worthy of celebration.

Then Micah had revealed Lydia’s name and the close-up head shot that would be her personnel photo. Wilder’s heart had lodged in his throat, and he’d struggled to choke it back down. There was no way in hell he could refuse to be the one to fulfill her wish—he’d maim anyone who tried to take his place—and her incomplete profile ceased to be an issue.

He remembered the way she’d responded to his flogger. He’d been drawn to her from the moment he saw her watching the show on the stage with horrified fascination. He’d been more than happy to take over for Des, the regular Dom.

He pictured the way she had looked afterward, during aftercare, and the memory of having her that close came flooding back.

* * * *

8 years ago

She lay on the sofa, her limp body soft and her head off in that place subs went when they were blissed out. He examined the exposed skin on her chest above the cut of her shirt and below the cuffs of her shorts. If he’d known her for more than a half hour, he would lift her shirt and have a closer look, just to make sure her skin was all right. He was certain she was fine, but he did prefer a visual check.

Bright light flooded the room, affording him a much better look than the one he’d had in the dim club lights. The employee break room was off-limits to almost everyone. Neither Wilder nor Micah worked at the club, but Wilder knew the owner well enough to take a turn onstage, and his family held a lot of sway in the BDSM community. That gained him access and privacy.

He couldn’t stop staring at her. Long, straight black hair fell in disarray around her oval face. Her big, round eyes were closed, but every now and again, her dark lashes would flutter, and he would remember the vulnerability in her light brown eyes as she had looked up at him beforehand and listened to him speak.

He traced his gaze along her cheekbones, admiring her elegant bone structure. And then he looked at her full, generous lips. He’d never kissed an African American woman before. In the small Vermont town where he lived, he hadn’t encountered very many people who weren’t white. He wondered if her lips were as soft as they looked. He could imagine himself drowning in her kiss.

Never in his life had he seen anyone so unbelievably beautiful. And responsive. She had arched and undulated under his flogger as if she was made to be there.

He didn’t know much about destiny, but when he’d asked for money to come on this trip, his father had scowled and refused. His mother had handed over the funds and told his father it was meant to be. His father’s demeanor had changed, all irritation gone.

Wilder knew his mother was never wrong. She was reputed to have a sixth sense. Wilder wasn’t sure he believed in the concept, but he knew better than to argue with his mother, and he had really wanted to come on this trip with his buddy Micah. He hadn’t been looking for anyone special, but the moment he saw her standing below the stage, watching the event, he got that feeling in his gut, the one his dad had talked about having the moment he’d set eyes on Wilder’s mother.

She was the one.

A knock at the door interrupted his musings. He opened it a crack to find a woman standing there, hands on hips in a pose that promised she would brook no crap from anyone. Wilder recognized her as his submissive’s friend.

He opened the door wider and offered his hand. “Hi. Come on in. She hasn’t come around yet. I’m Wilder.”

She pushed past him, rushed across the room, and bent over his dream woman’s still form. “What did you do to her?”

“Subspace. It’s like being high, only without drugs. She’ll come around any minute now.”

The friend glared at him. “What happened up there? The other guy didn’t flip me around and whip my front.”

Wilder winced. “Flog. He flogged you. Whipping is different, not for beginners. You didn’t like it as much as she did. I probably shouldn’t have taken her this far, especially her first time and especially because I don’t know how she feels about that level of exhibitionism.” He came to stand next to her, if only to be closer to the woman he desperately wanted to kiss. “I didn’t catch your name.”

She snorted. “I didn’t throw it at you.” She bent over her friend and shook her arm. “Lydia. Lydia, honey. Wake up.”

“She’s not asleep.” Her name was Lydia. It was suddenly the sexiest name he’d ever heard.

The friend shook Lydia harder. “Lydia. Girl, it’s time to go back to the hotel.”

“She can hear you. Stop shaking her like that.” He eased the friend out of the way and sat on the edge of the sofa near Lydia’s hip. He caressed her cheek and spoke in his sternest voice. “Lydia, sweetheart, open your eyes. Your friend is here, and she’s worried about you.”

Lydia’s eyelashes fluttered again. This time they opened. She focused her caramel-colored irises on him. “I’m okay. I just don’t feel like I can move.” Her voice came out a little slurred.

He grinned, reveling in the pride of his accomplishment. “You can move. You’re just really relaxed. Let me help you sit up.”

She blinked and nodded. He slid his arm under her shoulders and lifted. Her bare thigh pressed against his hip, and he felt her heat through the cotton of his pants.

A spark passed between them, and he knew she felt it too. Blood rushed to her cheeks, darkening them just a shade. She met his gaze and looked away, and he fell for her. He had no idea why her shyness pulled at his core, but it did.

She held the back of her hand to her cheek. “What happened to me?”

“Subspace. For some submissives, a good flogging can take you to a place that’s peaceful and calm. It looks like you’re one of them. You did it on your first try too. That’s pretty impressive.”

She stared at him with utter serenity. “You did this to me? That’s so sweet. I don’t even know your name.”

“Wilder.” He grinned at her raised eyebrow. Serene, yet not so far gone that she couldn’t show a bit of humor. “I’m here on spring break, as you seem to be.”

“Lydia, are you okay?” The friend’s voice cut through their intimate moment.

She looked past him, surprise replacing her inner calm. “Brigit. I’m sorry. I must have freaked you out. You were right. That was incredible.”

Brigit giggled, a liquid sound at odds with her husky voice. “Leave it to you to find a way to get special treatment from the employees. Nobody else passed out and had to be carried off the stage.”

Wilder stood, moving out of the way to let Brigit check over Lydia for herself. He was glad she had a friend to look out for her well-being. “I don’t work here. I just know Des, the Dom working the stage. He needed a break, so I took over for a little while. Des wouldn’t have gone as far as I did. He does this in public all the time. I don’t.”

Lydia smiled at him, her attraction a palpable force on the air currents. “I’m glad you took over for him.”

So was he.

* * * *

Present day

Of course, at the time he’d thought it was the beginning of something beautiful. She’d been new to the role of submissive, and he’d been the first to help her uncover her hidden inner masochist. It had ended up being short-term, a few days of bliss followed by years of silence. He’d looked for a woman who could impact him the way Lydia had, but he hadn’t found anyone with her combination of sweetness and fire.