Command (29 page)

“Betting on them, are you?” Julien asked when she met him near the elevator.

“Better than your shoes.”

“Like walking on air,” he said with a sigh.

The security guards joined them.

As they descended, a hum of voices met them, even from outside the elevator.

The doors slid open and the noise grew louder.

“Ready?” he asked.

“I can’t believe how exciting this is.”

“This, Aria, is why we do what we fucking do. We make the world a better place. Never forget it. Never forget why we do what we do.”

The security guards flanked them, and a partition she hadn’t noticed slid open.

Suddenly, they were in the midst of hundreds of screaming, yelling people.

Julien pulled a permanent marker from his pocket and started autographing anything put in front of him. It took them twenty minutes to make it to the front door. A ceremonial key was stuck in the lock. The thing was huge, with a showy, great big red bow on it.

Inside the sparsely stocked wooden, glass and chrome two-story retail space, a platform had been set up. Reporters were already near it, waiting along with a film crew.
Shocking.

She knew he’d make an announcement, broadcast through speakers, then they’d go inside the store. Employees and some of his first-ever customers would join them, along with winners from a lottery set up over the previous few days. Mackenzie and Kennedy would be on hand. Another of Julien’s college friends, Reece, along with his new wife, Sarah, would also be there to congratulate not only Julien, but also Kennedy, on the opening of the building.

Was she the only one who noticed the only key person missing was Grant?

If Julien wasn’t concerned, she told herself she wouldn’t be, either.

With the precise timing that was a hallmark of everything Bonds did, his theme song rocked the entire building. Some people made an entrance. He could make one after he’d already been signing autographs for twenty minutes.

At the top of the hour, the music silenced, and so did the crowd. Julien turned on the lapel microphone.

He strode through the area, shaking hands as he said, “I’d like welcome you to the opening of Boston’s Bonds at the stunning State Street Plaza. Without you, Bonds wouldn’t exist. Come inside. Let us change your world.”

He cut the mic, moved to the front door. Amid flashing lights and people crowding around to take pictures and video, he turned the key. Then with a smile and a cheery wave to the crowd, he opened the door and ushered her through.

They waited for a few minutes while lottery winners and loyal fans were brought inside. All the while, he worked the crowd, listened to people’s ideas, held court.

Then, from the podium, he talked about the impact their products had on lives. One fan shared a story of her extended range phone making a call when others couldn’t, and it had enabled her to save a life. Another shared a small story of a child finally understanding a math concept through one of his apps.

Finally, he introduced Kennedy. “Thank you for building such a supremely cool place for me to have a store.”

Kennedy thanked Julien for signing the building’s first lease. He presented Bonds with a ceremonial certificate.

Tenant #1.

Then Julien introduced her, said they’d be seeing more of her at future events.

She waved, made a small curtsey.

Then he continued. “Most of you know, if you’re here today, that Bonds wouldn’t have been possible without Kennedy’s initial belief and investment.”

Kennedy remained silent.

“And you know that I’m not the real genius behind the company.”

A number of people clapped. There was a wolf-whistle, too.

“You, asshole! Off with your head!” Julien called.

The crowd roared.

He never tried to speak over people, instead he waited until things quieted.

“And you know that the person who worked night after night in the early years was Grant Kingston.”

Her heart stopped. She hadn’t been expecting that recognition for Grant.

“Nothing would be possible without Grant hanging out, putting together components, taking shit apart—wait. Did I say that out loud?”

The crowd cheered raucously.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the man, the legend who was Bonds and is the future of Bonds—Grant Kingston.”

He emerged from the crowd and went to the podium.

Her pulse swarmed in her ears. The world seemed to vanish beneath her feet. She didn’t hear a single word he was saying. Damn Julien. All along, he’d known Grant would be here, and he’d said nothing.
Nothing.

Grant began to speak, and it didn’t matter what he was saying, she realized.

He was communicating passion, raw, unharnessed passion. He held the crowd, and her, captivated.

She drank him in, that misbehaving lock of hair that fell across his forehead. Those blue eyes that seemed to look not at her, but into her.

The arms capable of such tenderness and such precision with a flogger.

And that voice…

He wrapped up each person individually the way he had her.

No matter the passage of time or space between them, she was as stunningly in love now as she had ever been.

Her heart resumed a normal pattern, and she was able, finally, to hear as he spoke of the past and hinted at the ways that Bonds intended to change the world. He didn’t name the ‘Hello, Molly’ project, but he invited the crowd to imagine a world that might one day exist.

In his own way, he paced, rocked back and forth, gestured. And she didn’t mind the hideous shoes one bit.

And then…

Shadow walked from the back of the room and climbed up onto the podium.

Her knees sagged.

He’d done it. He’d created a hologram that looked and behaved like a living creature.

The dog barked.

“Sit.”

The dog stood still, wagging his tail, tongue lolling out of his mouth. And people cheered.

In mock frustration, he turned back and looked at it again.

The dog wagged its tail.

He raised a finger. With a soft growl of protest, Shadow sat. Then when Grant went closer, Shadow lifted a paw to shake.

“Bonds fans, say hello to Shadow, the world’s first holographic pet.” As he’d spoken, he allowed his voice to rise to a stunning crescendo.

The roar of the crowd shook the store.

Across the room, he sought her out. She gave him a thumbs-up before she joined everyone else in the clapping.

Shadow bounded up the stairs to meet a holographic image of Julien, then security opened the door to let the first fifty people through the door.

Chapter Thirteen

Grant clamped his hand on her elbow and drew her to the side of the room. It wasn’t private, and it wasn’t quiet. But to her, no one else existed.

“Are you able to escape from this place?” he asked.

“I have a room upstairs.”

“Can I have a minute of your time?”

“I don’t know.”
Yes.
This was either her dream coming true, or potentially another devastation. “You may have to earn it.”

He grinned.

As he often had, he placed his fingers against the small of her back as he guided her to the exit.

Julien stopped them on the way out. “It was the boots,” he said.

“Don’t push your fucking luck,” Grant snapped.

Julien smiled then turned and posed for a picture while he held one of their first-generation tablets.

She and Grant didn’t speak until the elevator arrived. She had nothing to say and too much to say all at the same time.

The moment the doors closed, sealing out the din, he had her up against the back wall. He grabbed her hands, pulled them over her head.

He looked her into her eyes.

She couldn’t breathe or think. God help her, she needed this.

“Give me a word,” he said, voice raw with the same kind of passion she’d heard downstairs.

“Yes,” she said.

He took her mouth. He kissed her, ravaged her, loved her.

Then he put a hand between her legs and stroked her pussy through her tights. She closed her eyes, linked her hands around his neck then gave him the surrender he demanded.

When the elevator slid to a stop, they composed themselves and smiled at the people entering the car.

“I apologize,” he said as they walked down the hall. “I’ve been thinking about that for weeks.”

She waved her key in front of the card reader and the lock snicked.

He reached around her to open the door then he followed her in.

The space suddenly seemed smaller than the elevator had. She didn’t offer a drink, and she kept him in the small sitting room area. With how combustible she was with him, she wasn’t going near a bed.

“You said I had to earn a minute of your time.” To his credit, he moved to the small bar area rather than crowding her.

“You do,” she said. “You can start with some explanations. Why are you here? At the event? And in my room.”

“It’s the boots.”

She tried to smile and failed.

“Well, actually, it is. I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you. The first few days after you left, I was pissed. At you. At me. I felt you wanted something I couldn’t offer.”

She leaned against the entertainment center. “That’s probably true.”

“And I knew you had every right to demand it. It was me who was too fucked up to deliver it. After that…” He paced. “I pulled my head out of my ass. I wanted to be the kind of man who deserved a woman like you. Honestly?”

She waited.

Earlier, at the opening, he’d timed his words and actions to generate enthusiasm and energy. Now, he allowed his voice to drop to reveal the depth of his emotion. “I didn’t trust that I could do it. I’d become myopic, shutting out everyone else. I knew you were right. So was Julien. But it took a lot for me to face it. I needed to be sure I could let go of the past. Not very noble.”

“You told me a long time ago that courage can look very different, given the circumstances,” she reminded him.

“Your strength inspired me, motivated me.”

She waited for him to continue, wanting to be sure he was willing to talk, really talk, before she took a risk by opening up to him again.

“The way I reacted that day, in the workshop, when I was an ass after what Julien said about your boots…” He exhaled. “That’s when I knew. I’d never felt jealousy like that before. I realized I cared about you, didn’t want to let you go, but damned if I knew how to keep you. Any relationship we have will be complicated. If you’re even interested. But I figured that choice needed to be yours, that I shouldn’t make it for you. So I’m here.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “And none of it’s as easy as I’d like it to be. But you’re worth it.” His voice cracked.

“Grant…” Emotion choked her up.

“I was always honest about the BDSM. I won’t live without it. We would have to negotiate, maybe reach compromises, but we can define it. It doesn’t have to define us.”

She nodded.

“As for living… I want to keep the Los Alamos house for a retreat.”

She blinked as she tried to keep up with what he was saying. He was talking in terms of a future for them, of ways for it to work.

“But I will be taking a more active role at Bonds. We can travel together. And I’m willing to live in the city.”

His words were everything she’d hoped for, and they momentarily overwhelmed her. “I’m not sure what to say.”

“I’ve missed you, Aria—in my bed, my house, my life. Come here.”

She went into his arms.

There were a million unanswered questions, a million things to sort out, but to her the only thing that mattered was the effort he’d already gone through—for Julien, for himself, for her.

He picked up her hand. While tracing the outline of her bracelet, he looked her in the eye and said, “I love you, Aria.”

“I…”

“Tell me you love me. Say yellow, or tell me you love me.”

Her lips twitched. “I love you.”

“If you’ll have me, I’ll work every day of my life to be the man you deserve.”

“There’s nothing I’d like more.”

Epilogue

“I’ve fantasized about having you back home since the day you left,” Grant told her when they were inside the dungeon at the Los Alamos house.

Home.
Aria drank in the word, savored it and their relationship. “Me, too, Sir,” she admitted.

“I want you on the cross.”

Aria shivered.

He stood there, arms folded, every inch a commanding Dom. As always, when he slipped into that tone, those actions, her brain circuits seemed to fire off more responses. It was as if she became a different person, with heightened expectations and responses.

“Undress,” he said.

She kicked off her pumps and shimmied from her skirt.

He hissed in a breath.
“Fuck me.
You wore that on purpose.”

“Me?” she asked innocently. She was wearing a lacy garter, stockings and a sheer thong. Oh yes, she’d done it on purpose. The last time she’d been here, she hadn’t had anything sexy to wear. Yesterday, she’d taken a long lunch break and spent an obscene amount of money on lingerie. Now, seeing the way his cock pressed against his blue jeans, she realized every penny had been worth it.

She continued, drawing up her blouse to reveal a matching demi bra that cupped her breasts and exposed her nipples.

“Turn around slowly. Let me admire your body.”

Aware of his rapt attention, she dropped the blouse to the stone floor as she followed his orders.

No matter how many times they were together, it was always as thrilling as the first. He always expressed his appreciation, and he always demanded everything she had to offer.

“I might have to fuck you before I flog you, little Aria.”

She smiled. “As you wish, Sir.” She’d been pissed when Julien had insisted she needed a strong man, but it turned out, damn him, that he’d been right. She craved Grant’s lash as much as his love.

“Take off the thong and go to the cross,” he said, words hoarse.