Carrie's Answer (2 page)

Stirling was a master at guilt and humiliation. Marcus had avoided most of it by being the cold, calculating businessman that his father was. He knew that was where his need for total control came from. For him, that need for control had spilled from the boardroom to the bedroom.

He was rereading the article for the tenth time when Carrie Anderson came into his office. Shaking her head, she folded the paper up and tossed it in the trash.

“Marcus, stop doing this. You’re giving her what she wants.” Her calm, soothing voice broke him from his self-loathing. She placed a fresh cup of coffee in front of him.

He eyed his assistant bleakly. “You knew, didn’t you? What I like? What I want?”

Her soft round face pinkened as she nodded. “Yes, I knew. I overheard Karen talking a time or two.”

He tried to hold back a wince. God only knew what venom Karen had spewed in Carrie’s direction.

She continued in a matter-of-fact voice. “Then Daniel and Matt, well they aren’t exactly discreet.” She was trying to make him smile but Marcus couldn’t quite manage it.

“Why are you still here?” He hated the way his normally commanding voice was barely above a whisper.

Carrie grabbed his hand, and when the physical contact of her silky skin made him jump slightly, she only tightened her hold.

“I will only say this to you once, and then we will never talk about it again. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Karen is a vindictive woman who will fight tooth and nail to make you look bad. Don’t let her get to you.” Her other hand came to rest on the top of his head. “You’re stronger than that.”

She let go and walked to the door, pausing to turn halfway around to meet his defeated gaze. “Just for the record, I read that article and I don’t think you’re depraved. You are a good man, Marcus Worthington.”

Closing the door quietly behind her, she left Marcus alone, a small amount of warmth filling his chest for the first time in days.

He was damn lucky to have Carrie here. Her words fluttered in his head, repeating over and over again. He sipped his coffee and picked up the phone to call his lawyer. It was time to end this.

Before he could dial the number, Carrie burst back through the door. Her eyes were huge and she spoke in an unsteady voice.

“Marcus, you have to get to Harper Grace Hospital, it’s your father.”

Chapter Two

Five Years Later

Marcus closed the last button on his black silk shirt, his gaze glancing over the drowsy blonde lying on the red satin sheets. She was naked, sprawled on her flat stomach. Her ass was still a delightful pink from his hand, and she was sated and silent, his personal favorite kind of woman. Marcus owned this private room in the club Velvet Ice. He occasionally allowed his lovers to stay the night if they chose, but he never did. The idea of spending the night in the same bed with one of his lovers made him nauseated.

A rustle of fabric behind him drew his attention away from the sleeping woman.

“Come on, I’m thirsty.” Daniel opened the door, and Marcus followed his best friend out of the VIP suites and into the low-lit hallway.

They passed another couple going into a private room. The woman wore red leather from head to toe. She was holding a leash attached to a collar worn by a very well-known Detroit businessman. Marcus acknowledged the couple with a slight nod. The club contract stated clearly that all members’ identities were confidential. To outsiders, the third-floor VIP suites were no more than a rumor. The rest of the place looked like any other high-end club, full of men and women who came to drink and dance.

Since Marcus had helped the owner bankroll Velvet Ice, his room was forever his and he would continue to play whenever he chose.

“What’s wrong? You have that look on your face,” Daniel asked as he opened a door that led to a winding staircase.

Marcus raised an ebony brow. “What look?”

They made their way down the stairs, which opened into the large second-story dance floor. This place was also off-limits to the general public, but for those who couldn’t afford the private rooms it was the next best thing. All the tables surrounding the room were full, so Marcus led the way to the smaller bar area, away from the music and noise. Grabbing a booth in the corner, he waved the waitress over.

She nodded, already knowing what the men’s drink orders were. Marcus slouched comfortably, placing an arm across the back of the booth.

His friend looked at him expectantly.

“I don’t know what the hell you want me to say.” He glanced up with an absent smile as the waitress slid his beer in front of him. Her perfect white teeth flashed when he slipped her a twenty. She slid her hand across the table, placing it on his. She lightly pressed his hand before taking the twenty and moving away.

Daniel watched her mile-long legs in a micro-mini leather skirt slink away on five-inch stiletto heels. “
That’s
what I’m talking about. She wanted you.”

Marcus grunted. “No, she wanted a big tip.”

Daniel laughed. “She did everything but wear a neon sign saying
fuck me
on it.”

Marcus shrugged. The waitress wasn’t any different than any of the other women in the club. Nice to play with but that’s all.

“See,” Daniel complained. “There it is again, the fucking
look
.”

“Okay, why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?” Marcus noticed the serious expression that settled over Daniel’s face.
Uh-oh, here we go.

“You’ve lost something, Marcus.” His friend scooted closer. “You didn’t enjoy yourself tonight. Hell, you haven’t enjoyed the last few times we’ve shared, not like you used to.”

“You enjoyed it enough for both of us,” Marcus tried to joke his way out of the conversation. He wasn’t up for psychoanalysis tonight.

“Bullshit. You haven’t been into any of the games lately.”

Marcus drained the rest of his beer. Holding up the empty bottle, he signaled for another one. “I don’t know what’s wrong. Work’s been a bitch. I’m tired of chasing after Matt. And Meredith? Well, we don’t even need to go there.”

That, Daniel would understand. Matthew had always been a wild child, and Meredith had never quite recovered from the double blow of Marcus’ condemnation of her budding sexuality and his own subsequent fall from grace. The memory of her tear-stained face as they’d all but dragged her out of the club still haunted Daniel.

Two more bottles of beer appeared on the table in front of them.

“You’ve been dealing with them for years. They haven’t changed, you have.”

Marcus caught the waitress by the wrist. “Scotch, double.”

She winked and left.

“I’m not in the mood for this conversation. Drop the subject.” Marcus exhaled. How the hell could he explain to his best friend that he was tired? The kind of tired you felt deep in your bones. His life had finally started getting back to normal, yet he was empty. Sure, fucking was great, and there was no shortage of willing submissives to play with, especially when you were wealthy.

He looked around the bar at the multitude of beautiful women dressed in their designer club wear. Smiling with capped teeth, enhanced breasts displayed to their best advantage, they were living dolls, and each and every one of them left him cold. They relieved the physical need in him, allowed him to indulge in his dominance and to release the worst of the pressure, but there were no feelings there. No connection.

Hell, to anyone else his life looked perfect. CEO of one of the most prosperous businesses in the Midwest, single, rich, but it wasn’t enough for him anymore. God, he felt like such a sap but all he wanted was a woman who didn’t desire anything more from him than to submit. To allow him to give her more pleasure than she ever knew she wanted or needed.

That woman, he realized, didn’t exist anywhere.

“Heeey, Daniel.” A musical male voice spoke from a few feet away. “Long time no see.”

Marcus hid his smile as a perky couple approached the booth.

Daniel slid closer to him. “I’ve been busy.” He didn’t look up from his drink.

Marcus held back his laughter. It was rare to see the smooth Daniel Ellis squirm but this preppie-swinger-wannabe couple managed it easily.

This time the petite, redheaded female half of the couple spoke. “John and I were hoping to run into you again.”

Daniel looked relaxed. Only Marcus noticed the small lines of tension around his blue eyes.

“John, Susan, I told you the last time was really the
last
time.” Daniel was being cold and abrupt, entirely unlike his usual suave self.

Amusing as the situation was, he supposed it was time to come to his best friend’s aid. It would serve the arrogant bastard right if Marcus got up and left his ass alone.

Sending him a wicked smile, Marcus slid his hand across the table, covering Daniel’s fingers with his own. The couple, whom Marcus had privately dubbed “Bondage Barbie and Ken”, stared at Marcus for a brief moment before flicking their gazes back to Daniel.

Daniel grabbed the gesture—and Marcus’ hand—like the lifeline they were, flipping up his own hand to wrap around Marcus’ fingers.

“Besides,” Daniel added, finally looking up at the couple. “My schedule is pretty full.”

Only Marcus saw the relief in Daniel’s sultry smile.

The couple colored, murmured their goodbyes and turned, trying to hide their embarrassment. They left the room without looking back.

Marcus smiled at Daniel’s scowl. “What’s wrong, Danny-boy? Break another couple’s hearts?”

Daniel caught the bartender’s attention and signaled for another round. “Broke their hearts? Let me tell you about John and Susan. She’s fucking the pool boy, and so is he. Neither of them bothered to inform the other. I found out and disengaged myself from the situation.”

Marcus barked out a laugh as Daniel continued. “I don’t know who was more broken-hearted, John, Sue or the pool boy. He hit on me too, and I let it slip when I informed them that I wasn’t going to see them again. It was a nice two weeks but, damn, it’s been over three years now. I am not traveling down that road again.”

“Well.” Marcus smirked. “You’ve gotta give them points for being persistent.”

Daniel gave him a sour look and reached for his fresh drink. Both sat silent for a moment then Daniel glanced back at his best friend. “Why doesn’t it bother you?”

“Why doesn’t what bother me?” He returned the glance. He frowned slightly at the uncomfortable expression on Daniel’s face.

Daniel’s drink arrived, along with the rest of the bottle. The waitress must have figured out this night was going to end at the bottom of that bottle for the two friends. Marcus poured himself another glass.

“Oh, come on, Marcus. Most straight guys would be fucking freaked out being naked in the same room with me.” Daniel lowered his voice when heads turned in their direction.

The strong alcohol was spreading its warmth through Marcus’ belly. “I don’t know, buddy. It might have to do with the fact that we were friends long before I discovered you enjoyed both sides of the fence.”

Doubt flashed in Daniel’s brilliant blue eyes.

Marcus shrugged. “Hey, with my proclivities I can’t very well sit in judgment. Besides, when we share I don’t think about that. I think about the woman. Of course, we may have a problem if you ever decide to grab my ass.”

His effort to lighten up the subject wasn’t working. Daniel looked into the bottom of his glass. “There haven’t been as many as people like to think.”

Marcus knew that already. While Daniel was attracted to both sexes, he hadn’t been with more than a couple of men and those interludes had been brief at best.

“At thirty-six it gets a little old being known for the money you make and the way you fuck.” As his mood became darker, Daniel’s words began to slur.

They were both a drink away from being really drunk. He gripped Daniel around the back of his neck. “I know man, I know.”

The two men sat drinking in complete understanding.

Daniel lifted his glass, and in a rare unguarded moment Marcus saw pain from the past shadowed his face. “Let’s make a toast to two of the lousiest fathers ever to grace this earth. And to the most pathetic excuse for a wife and mother who ever was born. Thanks, guys, for turning us into fucking freaks.”

“Here, here.” Marcus clinked his glass to Daniel’s.

Tipping the glass up to his mouth, he halted before the rim touched his lips.

“What the hell?” He closed his eyes, knowing he was seeing things. Opening them again, he let out a rapid string of four-letter words. It was really her. “What the
fuck
is she doing here?”

“Wha’?” Daniel swung his head around in the direction Marcus was looking.

Coming off the dance floor area and into the bar was Marcus’ faithful assistant. She looked completely edible, all wide-eyed innocence, flushed from dancing. At least, he thought, dancing had better be all she was flushed from. Dorian Jenner, a longtime friend, the cop who had probably saved his sorry life the night he’d left Karen, and a notorious Dom, had his arm around her waist.

“Woo-hoo!” Daniel hooted drunkenly. “It looks like our little Carrie has a wild streak in her. I knew I really liked her.” Daniel’s smile widened as he watched Marcus’ dark scowl. “Maybe I should go over and say hello.”

Marcus slammed his arm across Daniel’s chest. “Stay in your seat, Daniel or I’ll kick your ass.” He scooted up and out of the booth.

Daniel snickered behind him. “Where ya going?”

“To get her the hell away from Jenner and out of here before she gets in over her head,” he spat as fury burned in his chest.

Dorian lowered his mouth to Carrie’s ear.

“Oh, hell no,” Marcus hissed as she gazed laughingly up at the other man.

“Marcus, she’s a big girl, man.”

He spun around, eyes pinning Daniel to his seat. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? What’s wrong? She’s not skinny enough for you?”

Daniel put his hands up. “Whoa, hold on there, buddy. I actually think she’s pretty gorgeous, in a good-girl-next-door kind of way.”

A muscle jumped in Marcus’ clenched jaw.

“I like my girls on the juicy side. You’re the scrawny-model-loving man.”

Marcus’ chest deflated and Daniel drew a breath. “All I meant is that she’s old enough to decide where to spend her evenings.”

Marcus dragged his fingers through his hair. “How the hell does she even know about this place? Who the hell sponsored her to get in?”

A nonmember couldn’t just wander onto the second floor of the club. Those who just came to dance and have a night out didn’t own the specially made coins needed to gain access to the private and VIP levels.

And a serious Dom like Jenner wouldn’t have danced with just anyone.

He slowly turned back to the table, carefully eyeing his best friend as an appalling idea formed in his alcohol-fogged brain. “Why aren’t you surprised to see my assistant on the second floor?”

Daniel shrugged, bringing his drink to his mouth. “I may have sponsored her.” Tossing back the scotch, he wasn’t prepared when Marcus reached across the table and grabbed his shirt.

“What the hell were you thinking? This is
Carrie
we’re talking about.”

Daniel carefully removed Marcus’ hands from his shirt. “Back off, man. She asked me. I didn’t go to her. I questioned her, especially knowing who she is. She knew exactly what she’d find here.”