Deep Longing (Bend to My Will #4) (4 page)

“I haven’t seen Lana so hooked on a guy before,” Vivienne said. “Trace has cast a spell over her.”

Jacob laughed. “I think it’s the other way around.”

The evening was relaxed. They listened to music and ate the dinner Colette prepared. Vivienne even had a glass of red wine. After the cook left for the day, they sat on a long ivory-colored sofa and talked more. Vivienne asked about some of the artwork displayed on the walls. And Jacob talked about Europe, the art museums there, and other places he’d been.

Vivienne’s perfume filled his senses, and Jacob noticed how her blouse draped just so over her breasts. She smiled at him, and her green eyes reflected the desire he felt. After days of being close to her without touching, Jacob’s self-control was strained to the limit.

Seeing that Vivienne craved him too was a turn-on. Her blond hair framed her lovely face, her lips full and ready for kissing. Jacob pulled her close, kissing her hard and deep. When Vivienne moaned, he plunged his tongue next to hers.

The hot kiss incited him, and Jacob reached under Vivienne’s skirt to feel her wetness. She made a sexy sound in the back of her throat, and leaned over to kiss him again. Jacob breathed into her, tasting her, and wanting more.

When Jacob stripped off his pants, Vivienne reached out and fisted his cock. “I missed you, baby,” he growled. Quickly he undid the buttons of her blouse, then unclasped her bra. Overcome with the need to feel her lush breasts, he cupped them in his palms and sucked greedily at her nipples.

Vivienne panted softly, digging her hands in his hair. Then Jacob turned her onto her belly, stretched out on the sofa. He lifted her skirt, and with one hard yank, ripped off her panties. Tossing them aside, he squeezed her firm ass.

“You’re mine, baby,” Jacob said, then he slid his achy cock into her pussy. Fucking her from behind was erotic. He leaned up, stroking into her and admiring her fine ass. She was tight around him, and so damn wet. “Fuck,” he said.

As on the edge as he was, Vivienne cried out and her pussy pulsed as he stroked her hard. She clawed at the sofa as she climaxed, and Jacob exploded along with her. A welcome feeling of satisfaction flooded him as he collapsed over her and kissed her shoulder.

When Jacob sat up, he pulled her onto his lap. “You felt so damn good, baby.”

Vivienne touched his cheek. “So did you…so very good.”

The sexy interlude left Jacob feeling more complete than he had in days. Being close to Vivienne sparked emotion that he would need to deal with…later. But that night, it was enough to be with her. Late in the evening, they went to his bed, where she snuggled against him and closed her eyes. Jacob buried his face in Vivienne’s hair, breathing in her scent. Before falling asleep, he softly whispered her name.

Chapter 4

After Vivienne left the next morning, Jacob went for a run. She went back to her apartment to get dressed, and organized for work. Even while she’d stayed at the penthouse, he’d gone for early runs, while Vivienne had still been sleeping.

Jacob followed his usual route through the park, enjoying the moderate temperature and low humidity. That wouldn’t last, as by midsummer, he’d be soaked with sweat during a run. The trees were lush, and the grass a vibrant shade of green. The morning sun warmed the sky, burning away the coolness of the night.

The run gave Jacob some fresh air and a bit of freedom. It was during such workouts that he often came up with ideas for his company or solutions to issues. But he wasn’t in business mode yet. Vivienne had just left, and her presence still lingered.

As Jacob reflected about his concern over Vivienne’s welfare, he was relieved that he had the sense to change the agreement. She would call if needed, alleviating any worry. But there was a bigger issue that needed his attention.

The relationship had changed, and Jacob was largely responsible for that. Letting Vivienne sleep in his bed, and enjoy privileges that any other submissive wouldn’t be allowed, clouded the arrangement with tones of romance. A submissive should sleep in her room, or, if disobedient, on a mat on the floor.

Sleeping in the master’s bed was not permitted. Jacob had stuck to that rule, strictly, until Vivienne. But there was no going back. Having welcomed her in his arms at night, it would be no easy matter to reverse that decision.

Yet such intimate moments gave Vivienne the wrong impression. Jacob couldn’t blame her for envisioning a different sort of relationship than they had. After all, he had taken her on dates, then shared the playroom with her, which sent conflicting messages.

Then there was the kissing. In a moment of weakness, Jacob had given in to the urge to kiss Vivienne. And what a kiss it had been. His lips tingled at the memory of her soft lips on his. Such an act thwarted his ability to keep her at arm’s length.

Jacob had to be able to deny her when necessary. How he planned to do that when she affected him so was in question. Calling it a mistake didn’t resolve anything. The problem was that he didn’t want to give up kissing, and that disturbed him the most.

The truth, if Jacob cared to face it, was that he preferred falling asleep with Vivienne close. And he had no intention of abstaining from kissing now that he’d had a taste of it. Reconciling his role as dominant with such desires was disconcerting.

Jacob’s heart sank when he thought of what he was leading Vivienne to believe. He wasn’t the right man for her, except in the playroom. Romance, dating, and relationships had not gone well for him in the past. He wasn’t cut out for sentimentality.

Although Jacob had taken precautions to keep the darkness he harbored away from Vivienne, his recent behavior might prove to be his undoing. Intimacy drew a woman closer, when what he needed was to maintain distance. She didn’t need to know about his past, or see inside him. Nor did he want her to.

The fact was that Jacob was setting Vivienne up for disappointment, and the way they were going, it would be a big one. He agonized over that. It wasn’t right. But he was greedy, and didn’t easily turn away from what he wanted.

And Jacob wanted Vivienne: to hold her, to kiss her, and to wake up with her in his bed. His conscience weighed heavy with such things, since in the end he wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. As long as they stuck to the playroom, he was on high ground.

But now that Jacob had descended into emotion and desire, he was at a loss. There was no simple way to blend the two, since they were in opposition. In the playroom, Vivienne submitted to him, unquestioningly, and if Jacob had to be a heartless bastard, he could be.

Not so in his bed. But Jacob knew women well enough to know that to ask Vivienne to shut off her feelings in the playroom was asking a lot. It was likely asking the impossible. He had ruined a good thing, and now had to deal with it.

There was no choice. Jacob would have to talk to Vivienne about their arrangement. He had to be sure that she didn’t hope for more than he could give. It was important to set things straight, get back on solid ground, as soon as he had the opportunity.

*****

Later that morning at his office, Jacob worked through the pile of papers on his desk, and his overfilled inbox. The flood of emails seemed out of proportion to his two-day absence. He waded through the most urgent matters, intent on carving out time to connect with Walsh, to find out if he had more insight on the investigation. Considering the investigator’s reliability, he probably would have let Jacob know about any new developments.

Meg came in and plopped a folder on his desk. “Here is the background on the wine producer in Chile that you were interested in. Marketing sent it over,” she said.

“Oh, good. I’ve been waiting for that.” Jacob looked up at his assistant. “Did you have a good weekend?”

“Yes, actually.” Meg pushed her hair over her shoulder. “My boyfriend took me to a Broadway play, and then dinner.”

“Nice,” Jacob said. “What did you see?”

“
Wicked
, and it was amazing.”

“I need to see that,” Jacob said.

“You do. The songs are unbelievable, and I can’t begin to describe the costumes or the set. It was like being transported into the Land of Oz. And the performances were just outstanding.” Meg grinned. “I’m going to see it again. It was
that
good.”

“Great recommendation.”

When Meg went back to her desk, Jacob decided he should take Vivienne to see the show. They were past quibbling over the semantics of dating. Now that she could call midweek, Jacob could certainly take her to see a show. Even if she’d seen it, Vivienne liked to see shows more than once. It would be great to see her enjoy it.

Thinking of Vivienne distracted him from work. Jacob still couldn’t fathom how his control had unraveled, even after establishing the rules early on. Yet Vivienne could not be confined to the playroom. Somehow she had become part of his life.

Before lunch, Walsh came to Jacob’s office. “Can we talk?” he said.

“Sure, come in,” Jacob said. “I was about to come down to see you.”

Walsh’s hair was a bit wild, like he might have been up all night, and his expression was serious. He sat across from Jacob. “We’re getting better insight into this matter with the distributors.”

At that moment, Trace stuck his head in. “Oh, I didn’t know you were busy. Just checking to see if you wanted to grab a bite, but I can come back.”

Trace Farrington wasn’t just a trusted employee, but also a loyal friend. Jacob had filled him in on the distributor issue, knowing that the man’s technical expertise might be useful. “Trace…come on in. You should hear this.” He waved toward the open chair. “Shut the door behind you.”

The difference between the two men across from Jacob was stark. Walsh was a weightlifter, and even under his shirt, muscles bulged. Trace was a ladies’ man. He kept fit but had a leaner build, and a suave demeanor. There was no dress code in IT, or investigations for that matter. So Trace wore a polo shirt and jeans. He dropped into the vacant chair.

Hardly missing a beat, Walsh continued: “I’ll cut to the chase. The harassment leads back to Williamson Imports. The multiple efforts to turn our distributors away were just a smokescreen. Once we traced each incident, it was clear that the trouble came from a single source.”

“So I have to ask why Williamson would do something like that, when it will affect their business as much as ours,” Jacob said. “If more distributors buy direct, they lose as much business as we do.”

“Which brings up the question as to
who
at Williamson is behind this,” Trace said. “I can’t see their board calling a meeting and coming up with such a harebrained idea.”

“I was getting to that,” Walsh said. “I assume the name Daniel Kenyon is familiar to us all.”

“Shit,” Jacob said. “Kenyon’s involved?” He shook his head. “Although it doesn’t surprise me. I don’t think the man knows what
company loyalty
means. And he sure hasn’t been friendly toward us.”

“Kenyon is
mean
. That’s how he strikes me,” Trace said. “The guy is a downer.”

“Calling him
mean
is gracious,” Walsh said. “His dishonesty is no secret. I’m sure you heard about that earlier scandal he was involved in. I recapped all the details in the report, in case you want to know just how criminal the guy is.”

“That scandal hit the news like wildfire,” Trace said.

“Wasn’t it a phony wine scam?” Jacob said. Since he had been out of the country at the time, he had missed most of the blowup over the incident.

“Let’s just say that Kenyon sold counterfeit wine and netted quite a sum,” Walsh said. He tossed a folder on Jacob’s desk. “It’s all there. It makes very interesting reading.”

“So how do you counterfeit wine?” Trace said. He was a techy, not a wine expert, so it wasn’t something he’d know. Jacob let Walsh field the question.

“It’s really quite ingenious,” Walsh said. “All a wine collector has to do is to refill an authentic old bottle with a cheaper red wine, then recork it. Thus, turning a twenty-dollar bottle of Merlot into a
twenty-thousand-dollar
bottle of rare wine, within minutes.”

Jacob interjected: “Unfortunately, counterfeiting doesn’t require exactitude. The scammer can relabel an old bottle, or fill an empty bottle of an old wine with a different blend. When it comes to old wines, few people have tasted the genuine article. Plus, it’s nearly impossible to discern the authenticity of a wine by taste alone.”

“Yes, very true,” Walsh said.

“I didn’t follow the story on Kenyon,” Jacob said. “Why in the hell wasn’t he prosecuted?”

“I was going to ask the same thing,” Trace said. “There was that famous scandal, a while back, that rocked vineyards across the world…can’t remember the guy’s name. But
he
didn’t get away with it.”

“No, he didn’t,” Jacob said. “I read that he had a counterfeiting factory with thousands of fake labels for many prestigious wines from Burgundy and Bordeaux.”

“Yes, he sold millions of dollars worth of the stuff,” Walsh said. “That was a much more high-profile case. Dan Kenyon is small fry compared to that.”

“Still, he committed a crime,” Trace said.

“But that had to be proven. Rumors don’t convict,” Walsh said, “and Kenyon had something in his favor.”

“Which was?” Jacob said.

“His stepfather.” Walsh let that sink in. “Williamson Imports is a well-respected company, and Sam Williamson has many friends.”

“Are you saying Sam used his influence to kill the case against his stepson?” Jacob said.

“That’s what it looks like.” Walsh frowned. “The guy’s a crook. So whatever his motive for going against Rinaldi Imports now, it’s unsavory.”

“Find out all you can about him,” Jacob said. “Just because Williamson got him off, doesn’t mean he wouldn’t do something just as criminal, or worse, once the heat was off.”

“I’m on it,” Walsh said, and stood up. “Check out my reports. I gave you the highlights just now. But there’s more. You’ll want to read it.”

“I will.” Jacob picked up the folder the investigator had left for him.

When they were alone, Trace said, “So do you want to go eat?”

“I better skip it,” Jacob said. “I need to dig into this report. And I have a million other things to do.”

“Okay, I’ll catch up with you later,” Trace said, then hesitated.

Jacob raised his brow.

Trace grinned. “Looks like you and Vivie really have something going.”

“I’m not at liberty to divulge details,” Jacob said, refusing to share his private life. Leave it to Trace to have his mind back on women within only seconds of the meeting. He waved his friend away. “Go eat lunch.”

When Trace left, Jacob dug through the file. Walsh had uncovered a lot of information. But an important question remained unanswered: Why was Kenyon trying to undermine Rinaldi Imports?

Competition was one thing, but this went way beyond that. Daniel Kenyon’s actions were destructive, and morals seemed to have little influence over the man. Possibly he was on a vendetta. But if so, what was it, and why was Rinaldi the target?