His Every Need (4 page)

“Ow, stop that.” She tried to yank out of his grasp, but he tightened his hold.

“Don’t be such a baby. It’s only a scratch.” Drawing a folded white handkerchief from
his pocket, he wrapped it around her finger and applied pressure.

This time when she tried to pull away, he let her go. She clutched the handkerchief
and resumed walking. She didn’t look at him, didn’t ask any more personal questions.

With his hand on her bare back, he led her to the house, through the dining room,
to the foot of the staircase, where he’d felt her up earlier in the evening. Her cheeks
grew warm thinking of his hand on her breast, squeezing it like he owned it. Which,
for the next two months, he did.

But that was nothing compared to what was coming. She was going to have to show him
the whole enchilada, let him touch whatever he wanted. She was on the verge of freaking
out when he gazed down at her with a mocking smile.

“Good night, Miss Campbell. Try not to dream of me.” He ran his fingers down her spine
before striding toward his office.

She stood alone on the bottom step, completely confused. Her heart slowed to a steady
beat, and the threatening tide of panic began to subside.

So, that was it? No sex? He must be playing another game, one that only he knew the
rules to. But she was too tired to figure them out tonight.

Grateful for a reprieve, she whisked off her shoes and, grabbing the hem of the dress
with her uninjured hand, lightly ran up the stairs to the safety of her room. She
shut the door behind her and locked it. It wouldn’t keep him out, but at least she
might have some advance notice if decided to barge in.

She went to the bathroom and unwrapped her scratched finger. The initials embroidered
on his handkerchief read TWB. Trevor William? She scoffed, glancing at herself in
the mirror.

“You’re an idiot, Allison. Who gives a crap what his middle name is? The man was about
to take over your house and kick your family out on the street.” No matter how many
flowers he planted or how gently he wrapped her bloody finger, he owned her ass. And
she’d better remember that.

In the bedroom, she removed the dress, letting her hand drift over the expensive fabric
before hanging it up in the closet. Then, she threw on a pair of men’s boxer shorts
and an old, faded T-shirt before grabbing the phone off the side table. Allie needed
to call her father and explain the situation. She could only imagine what Monica told
him, and he must be worried by now.

He answered on the first ring.

“Hey, Dad.”

“My God, Allie, what the hell is going on? Monica said you’re living with Trevor Blake.”

“Sorry I couldn’t talk to you in person, but when I came to see Mr. Blake about the
loan, he offered me a job,” she said, forcing enthusiasm into her voice. She didn’t
want her father to suspect anything was wrong.

“Allie, he’s throwing us out of our house. You can’t work for that man.”

She sank down on the bed and, plucking the gray duvet with two fingers, took a deep
breath. “I’m going to be his assistant, Dad, and in return, he’s going to forgive
the debt you owe and pay off the mortgage and the rest of the medical bills.”

“Why? Why would he do that, Al?”

She hated lying to him. But it was necessary. “He liked my initiative. I’m not getting
much of a salary at this point, but I have room and board and I’ll gain a lot of experience.”
She winced as she said the words. She didn’t really want the kind of experience a
man like Trevor Blake would give her.
Hot, consuming sexual experience
.

Her father laughed. “That’s amazing, Allison. I’m so proud of you.”

He wouldn’t be proud if he knew the truth. She closed her eyes and kept her voice
light. “Can I talk to Brynn?”

“Let me see.” He came back a minute later. “She doesn’t want to talk right now, but
she’ll come around. She doesn’t like change and you left so suddenly…”

Allie cleared her throat. “Okay. So, what are you going to do about work?”

“When have I ever not worked?” He sounded testy, then sighed. “Sorry. I haven’t been
completely honest with you. I, uh, sold off all my tools a couple of months ago. The
business has been in trouble for a long time.”

She closed her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you.” He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “And I guess
I didn’t want to admit I’m a failure.”

“That’s not true. Don’t say that.”

“It is true. Anyway, I’ve started doing some odd jobs for a friend, fixing up some
rental properties, repairing old appliances on the side. It doesn’t pay much, but
since Mr. Blake has forgiven the loan and offered to pay off the medical bills…Allie,
you can’t know what a relief this is.” He let out a sob and sniffed a couple of times.
“Sorry, I just can’t believe he’s doing this. Thank him for me.”

Allie felt a lot of things toward Trevor, but gratitude wasn’t one of them. “I’ll
come by tomorrow and check in.”

“By the way, we’re out of paper towels. And coffee filters.”

“Paper towels are under the sink and coffee filters are in the pantry, third shelf
down.” She pressed her lips together. He was going to fall apart without her. This
was a mistake, moving in with Trevor. But what choice did she have?

***

Allie was awakened by tapping, then a rattle of the door handle. Disoriented, she
rubbed her eyes and tried to figure out where she was. Right, Trevor Blake’s house.
She stumbled out of bed and unlocked the door. Standing on the other side of it was
a middle-aged, round-faced, cheerful bundle of energy with curly red hair.

“Good morning, miss,” she said in an English accent. But hers wasn’t fancy, like Trevor’s
and Arnold’s. “I’m Frances. Sorry I wasn’t here yesterday to greet you proper. My
day off.” Clad in a black dress and black tennis shoes, she hustled into the room
and pulled back the curtains, flooding the place with light.

“Nice to meet you,” Allie said before she walked back to bed and huddled under the
blankets. She couldn’t do cheerful this morning, she was too exhausted.

“Time to rise and shine. Mr. Blake is waiting on you.”

Allie groaned and checked the time. Seven o’clock wasn’t early, but she’d spent the
night in tears. Her eyes felt swollen and grainy. “Tell Mr. Blake to stuff it.” She
pulled the covers over her head.

Frances laughed. “Oh, I won’t be doing that. Come on now, love.” She played tug-of-war
with the blankets but managed to yank them out of Allie’s clutched hands. “You need
to get up. Mr. Blake says you have a full day ahead of you.”

Allie glared at Frances but stopped herself. It wasn’t Frances’s fault she was in
this mess. Sitting up, she pushed a stray piece of hair out of her face. “Okay, I’ll
be down in a few.”

“I’ll have a nice cup of coffee waiting for you. How do you take it, love?”

She was beginning to like Frances. “Lots of cream and sugar, please.”

As Allie climbed out of bed, she had to wonder what Frances and Arnold thought about
her. Did they know she was Trevor’s mistress? She was probably one in a long line
of women who stayed in this room, servicing Trevor Blake. She shouldn’t care. He’d
be on to the next girl soon, and Allie could get back to her family.

She washed quickly and changed into a pair of faded jeans and a blue T-shirt.
Screw
the
makeup.
If Trevor Blake didn’t like her face in its natural state, he could suck it.

Just like she had sucked his finger last night. He’d stroked his hand absently up
and down her back as she took him in her mouth. His hand against her skin…

No, focus
. She couldn’t afford to get distracted. He was waiting on her, and she needed a clear
head. She trotted down the stairs and ran into Frances.

“I was about to come and get you. Mr. Blake is getting a mite peevish. Follow me,
dear.”

“Aren’t we going to the dining room?”

“No, until last night, we hadn’t used it in years.” She came to a stop in front of
a doorway that opened to a blue and white room. It seemed cheerful and homey—and not
a knickknack in sight.

Allie poked her head in the door and the rich smell of coffee called to her. Trevor
was already seated at the table, BlackBerry in hand.

“Don’t stand there hovering, Miss Campbell. You may have all day, but I assure you,
I do not.” He never looked up from his phone as he spoke.

She sat at the opposite end of the table, as far away from him as she could get. Arnold
waited by a sideboard.

“What would you like for breakfast, miss?”

Trevor set aside his phone and looked up. “Give her some of everything, Arnold.”

She glared at him. “Hey, English, I’m in the room, and I can answer for myself.”

He quirked a brow. “You’re a bright little ray of sunshine this morning, Miss Campbell.
And do sit next to me. We have things to discuss and I feel as if I’m looking at you
from across a football pitch.”

With a sigh, she moved down the length of the table, but before she could pull out
a chair, Arnold was there, pulling it out for her.

Frances placed a cup of steaming coffee on the table, and Arnold gave her a full plate
of bacon, eggs, sausages, and toast. She smiled at them. “Thank you.”

“That will be all for now,” Trevor said. “You’ve got quite a fan club going, you know.”
He nodded toward the door that Frances and Arnold had exited.

“I’m sure they like all your mistresses.” She didn’t look at him as she placed her
white linen napkin on her lap.

“Perhaps. And while the top of your head is as delightful as the rest of you, eyes
on me.”

Picking up a piece of toast, she lifted her head. “Yes?”

“You need to sign these.” He set a stack of papers in front of her. “My lawyer put
these helpful little pink strips to show you where.”

She dropped the toast and wiped her hands. After eyeing the papers with suspicion,
she peered up at him. “What are they?”

“You said you wanted everything in writing. This states that I’m paying off all your
family debt and in exchange, you will grant me whatever favors I desire.” Holding
the pen, he smiled. “No matter how perverse.”

Allie gasped. “It does not say that.”

“Read it if you don’t believe me.”

She could, but what difference would it make? That’s exactly what she was doing: giving
him sexual favors in return for money. Basically, she was attesting to the fact that
she was a whore. She snatched the pen from his hand and signed next to all the pink
strips.

“Excellent.” He handed her the BlackBerry he’d been fiddling with. “I’ve programmed
in my numbers.” He reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out
a credit card. “And I have a personal shopper waiting for you. Simmons will take you
anywhere else you need to go.” He scanned her
Get
Lucky
in
Vegas
T-shirt. “I took the liberty of compiling a list.”

“You did what?” she asked, still reeling from the sex contract. Now he was going to
dictate what she wore? “You made me a shopping list?”

He pushed back from the table. “No appreciation necessary. Seeing you in a natural
fiber will be thanks enough.” He scooped up the papers she’d signed and patted her
head as he left the room.

“Wait,” she called, but he didn’t come back. Damn him.

She rubbed the top of her head where he’d patted her. Allie was getting tired of his
condescension. But what could she do about it? She’d just signed papers to make her
role official. She couldn’t back out now.

Maybe that’s why he hadn’t wanted sex last night. Maybe he was waiting to get all
the details down in legalese.

Fingering the embossed numbers on the credit card, she frowned. Some women would kill
for this opportunity, to live here, to have all their expenses paid—to have sex with
Trevor Blake. She wasn’t one of them.

She tucked the card in the pocket of her jeans. Then, plucking a strip of bacon from
her plate, she went to find Simmons.

Allie had the blond chauffeur drop her off at home first. While he remained in the
car, she let herself inside. Since she was rarely home by herself during the day,
she stood in the living room, taking in the quiet—except for the high-pitched whine
of the refrigerator. Somehow, her dad never got around to fixing it.

Making her way to the kitchen, she surveyed the damage. A carton of milk had been
left on the counter, coffee grounds were spilled in the sink, and a dirty pan sat
on the stove. She hoped her dad had at least remembered to make Monica and Brynn lunch.

Allie put the milk away and found the pork chops from yesterday still in the fridge,
so she wrote her dad a quick note on how to prepare them and propped it next to the
coffeepot. And she needed to remind her father that Monday was trash day. He always
forgot.

She washed a load of laundry and cleaned up the kitchen. Then, taking one last glance
around, she knew she couldn’t put it off any longer. It was time to go to shopping.

***

Six hours later, she was exhausted. Nancy, her nice but rather manic personal shopper,
made Allie try on more clothes than any one person could possibly need. And as Simmons
and Arnold made trip after trip from the car to Allie’s room, she watched the bags
pile up around her. For what she’d spent at Agent Provocateur on underwear, she could
have bought a used car.

“Why don’t I bring you a cup of tea, miss?” Frances asked from the doorway. “Then
you can have yourself a nice hot bath, and I’ll put these things away for you.”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll put everything away myself.”

With a frown, Frances looked at the dozens of bags littering the room. “But it’s my
job.”

Some of the things on Trevor’s list were pretty risqué—barely there thongs with ruffles,
completely transparent teddies, and sheer waspies—corset-like bands that circled the
waist with garters dangling from them. She’d never seen one before today. She was
used to buying her underwear in packages of six.

“I don’t mind,” Allie said.

“All right, but I’m bringing your tea, and that’s that.”

Once Frances was gone, Allie pulled out the more questionable purchases of the day
and shoved them in a dresser drawer. This really was mistress wear.

The fact that Trevor had specifically requested all this made her stomach knot in
worry. The man obviously knew what he wanted, was used to women wearing this type
of thing. Allie was comfortable in an old T-shirt and pajama pants. Trevor’s other
women must be in a completely different sexual category. Allie would never measure
up. Not that she cared what Trevor thought. If he didn’t like her lack of technique,
too bad. Maybe he’d send her home.

Frances reappeared with a tea tray. “Make sure you eat, now. You hardly touched your
breakfast. I’m going to run you a bath.”

Falling onto the bed, Allie grabbed a sandwich and ate. She had finished her second
cup of tea by the time Frances reentered the room.

“All ready. In you go, and I’ll put away the rest of your things.”

While being waited on still made her feel like a diva, Allie gave in. With a smile
of thanks, she slipped into the bathroom. Humidity from the hot water made her skin
damp, and the tub brimmed over with frothy bubbles that smelled of lavender. She hadn’t
had a bubble bath since she was a little girl.

Quickly shedding her clothes, she pinned up her hair before sliding into the water.
God, it felt good—soothing and warm. She’d just started to drift off when the door
opened. Thinking it was Frances, she smiled and opened her eyes to find Trevor staring
at her.

Allie’s heartbeat kicked up a notch. “What are you doing in here?” Granted, it was
a stupid question, but he’d taken her by surprise. She sank further into the suds
and slapped an arm over both breasts as if she were a virgin in a Regency novel. She
knew she was behaving like an idiot, but that didn’t stop her from covering the girls.

“What do you think I’m doing? Taking tea with the queen? I’m here to speak with you,
of course.” He’d removed the jacket and tie from this morning, undone a couple buttons
at his throat, and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. With his black hair and wicked
gray eyes, Trevor looked sexy and disheveled. He strolled into the room and parked
on the side of the tub. Stretching out his legs, he made himself at home. “Did you
have a good day, Miss Campbell?”

“Shopping on a rich man’s dime. Oh, yes—I’ve reached the pinnacle.” Every word carried
the sting of sarcasm.

“You haven’t come close to the pinnacle, Miss Campbell. And you’ll know when you’ve
reached it, because you’ll be screaming my name.” His eyes met hers as he scooped
his hand into the tub, skimming her thigh in the process. She skittishly shifted her
leg and watched him, her attention fixed, as he brought a palm full of bubbles to
his lips. He blew them at her, and a bubble blob landed on her nose.

He laughed when she crossed her eyes to stare at it. Swiping at it, she left an even
bigger blob on her face.

“Allow me.” Trevor bent toward her. He was so close she could see the lighter flecks
of silver in his eyes. Softly, he brushed off the bubbles. “There.” He slid one finger
across her jaw. “Did you get everything on my list?”

He still didn’t move back. His clean scent teased her and mixed with the lavender.
It was a compelling combination. The open collar of his shirt left a V-shaped gap,
exposing the hollow of his throat. Allie’s gaze flickered to the pulse beating there,
lifted over his stubble-covered chin, lingered for a brief second on his firm lips,
and finally, she stared into his eyes. “Your list was ridiculous.”

He held her gaze for a moment before brushing her lips with his own. Then, straightening,
he again trailed his hand through the bubbles, but this time, he lowered his fingers
into the water and found her leg. She froze when he slid his palm along her calf,
rubbing down to her ankle until he held her foot. “My lists are never ridiculous.
You can try everything on for me after you get out of the tub.”

She tried to pull away, but he kept a firm grip on her heel and took it out of the
water, placing it on his leg. He didn’t seem to care that his pants were getting soaked.

“Forget it, English. I spent the whole day trying that stuff on, and I’m not going
through it again.”

He began kneading the bottom of her foot, and his soapy hand slid up the arch, to
her toes, then back down to her heel. He increased the pressure right where she needed
it. “So you don’t enjoy shopping?”

“Maybe your other mistresses love it, but I don’t.”

“You seem very preoccupied with my mistresses, Miss Campbell. Afraid you won’t measure
up?”

Again, she tried to pull her foot from his hands, but he held on and continued to
massage. She wasn’t going to lie—at least not to herself—his thumbs pressing into
her arch felt wonderful. She almost sighed in pleasure but caught herself at the last
second. She barely refrained from thrusting her other foot in his lap and having him
rub that one too.

“So, you do this type of thing all the time?” she asked.

“Rub women’s feet?”

“Pay them to have sex with you? If that’s the case, God only knows what you’ve caught.
You could be a walking petri dish.”

His face became a blank mask. “If I recall, it was your idea to barter your services.”

“I didn’t hear you protesting.” She sank further into the water. “I want you to wear
a condom. Every time.”

“That’s terribly unfortunate, Miss Campbell. I like to ride bareback, feel every sensation
as it were. No barriers. Just my skin against yours.”

Now her cheeks were on fire. But she wouldn’t back down. “Tough. I’m not taking any
chances.”

Sighing heavily, he shook his head in mock sadness. “Though it will be a tremendous
sacrifice, I suppose I could glove up. But just so you know, it won’t be the same.”

“You’re still not funny.”

He continued to rub her heel, edging toward her ankle. Switching up the pressure,
he’d rub firm circles into her muscles one minute and use a soft caress the next.
Then, with deliberate, leisurely strokes, his hands glided up her calf to circle the
back of her knee. The look in his eyes dared her to stop him.

And she should have. She should have protested, slammed her legs together, but she
didn’t move. She was mesmerized by those gray eyes, the slick hands, and the skillful
fingers dancing across her skin. It had been so long since anyone had touched her
like this. She wanted more.

Leaning slightly forward, Trevor’s fingers trailed even further north. When he reached
her inner thigh, his grazing touch was so light it almost tickled. His hand moved
closer—closer to her aching core.

Her mouth parted. Just another inch and he’d reached it.

Then he slowly, too damn slowly, slid one finger inside her. Closing her eyes, Allie
held her breath, waited for him to move.
This
shouldn’t be happening
. She didn’t even know him. But it felt too good to stop.

“Open your eyes.”

Heart pounding, she heeded his command and watched his impassive face as he slipped
another finger inside her. Scissoring them, he used his thumb to trace around her
clit. Back and forth, those fingers came together and slid apart, alternately stretching
and filling her. She’d never felt anything so delicious.

In only moments, an orgasm rocked through her body. Allie’s eyes drifted shut as she
arched her back. With one arm still hiding her breasts, her hands clenched into fists
and her toes flexed.

“Look at me,” he said softly.

Once again, her eyes flickered open. Trevor’s jaw tightened, his was breath choppy.

As he continued to move within her, waves of pleasure rippled from her pussy outward.
The cooling water lapped over her hips until the aftershocks subsided. But as her
body relaxed, Trevor’s fingers stayed buried deep inside her. “The next time you come,
Miss Campbell, you will scream my name. Count on it.” Then he gave her an arrogant
grin and very gently removed his hand from her body.

Angry at herself for being such an easy mark, for being so desperate that she virtually
panted for his touch, she plunged her free hand into the water and fumbled around
for the loofah. She flung it at him with her left hand, but it still managed to hit
him square in the chest with a wet thud. “Get out.”

He rose to his feet, his now-soaked white shirt transparent and plastered to his sculpted
body—his defined pecs, his lean abdomen. He was every bit as hard and ripped as she’d
imagined. She wanted to touch that chest and see for herself how firm it was. Skim
her hands over each and every abdominal ridge.

And then she noticed his erection. His very large erection.

“Don’t stare, darling. Unless you’d like a closer look?”

She should be embarrassed, but instead, she actually wanted a closer inspection. How
big was it? How thick? Her heart pounding, Allie pulled her gaze away from his cock.
It was more difficult than it should have been. “Get. Out.”

With a smile, he walked to the door. “See you at dinner, Miss Campbell.”

After he was gone, Allie took a deep breath and submerged herself beneath the bubbles.
But she couldn’t wash away the memories of Trevor observing her when she was at her
most vulnerable, the way he carefully watched her reaction with his heated gaze, never
taking his eyes from her as his fingers moved inside her. It was more intimate than
anything she’d ever experienced. And she didn’t even like him. So how was she supposed
to face him after that?

***

Standing at her bedroom door, Allie smoothed her hand down the front of her light
blue dress. Okay, so Trevor finger banged her earlier. Hardly the end of the world.
And he watched her have an orgasm. Big deal. It was a biological reaction. Like sneezing.

And she shouldn’t be embarrassed about their condom conversation either. That was
just taking care of business. True, she was on the pill. Had been for years. She started
in college and kept up the habit, even though no man had been anywhere near her since…Trevor
Blake. He had been near. He’d been inside her.