Requested Surrender (8 page)

She shook her head and went to collect each one to read them.
Hot, hot, hot, hotter, more hot, on fire, sizzling
, until she got to the last one stuck on a beautiful arched wooden door and read,
Quick, come in before you burn up
. That made her chuckle.

She didn’t knock and once she was in she realized she probably should have as this was David’s office. His big and well-appointed office where he sat talking on the phone.

“I said eight hundred thousand and not a penny more. I don’t care about that. No.”

He hadn’t looked up so she figured she could sneak back out and wait a few minutes before she knocked, but he must have spotted her.

“Wait, Lacy. Stay.”

She swung around and gestured to the phone in his hand. She really felt bad about interrupting him.

“Listen, Alistair,  make it work. I have to go. Something important has come up. Yes, more important. I know. Thanks. Bye.”

Lacy was prepared to wait. If he didn’t mind her being in his office while he worked, then she could deal with it. She walked over to one side of the room and studied the painting hanging over the fireplace. Although it was more pop art than traditional, it worked well in this space. And of course the subject matter fit David perfectly.

“It’s titled
Time To Hang It Up
. That’s every Dom’s worse nightmare.”

She spun around and frowned. “Don’t you have something more important to deal with?”

“I do.” He came around the desk and sat back against it. “And I am. How did you sleep?”

Was he always so good looking? What was with the butterflies in her stomach? Was she really his “something more important” this morning?

“I slept fine.” When he tilted his head and crossed his arms over his chest, she was instantly reminded of what he had going on under that suit. The recalled image caused certain parts of her to go all tingly. Not good. What she needed was distraction. The painting. That would do. She twisted around and took another look at it. It depicted a modern day robot brandishing a whip above a woman’s reddened bottom.

Turning back she asked, “A Dom’s nightmare? I don’t get it.”

“If you’re only going through the motions you have no business handling the whip.”

“Oh.” She nodded. Made sense.

“Salvador Dali?”

She followed his point to her shirt and said, “Yeah,
Daddy Longlegs of the Evening - Hope
, it’s one of my favorite paintings of his. I love this top.”

He leaned forward and squinted. “Hm. I don’t see it.”

“Not everyone gets Dali.”

He dropped his arms and stood. “Oh, I get him, but I don’t see where you indicate your love for the shirt. Your patented smiley face with the words
, I’m completely delighted,
beneath it appears to be missing.”

“Ahhh,” She drew out the sound for effect. “You saw the paddle then?”

“I did.” He walked over to her and she expected him to say something more about her defacing his prop when he surprised her by asking, “Do you know what legend says about the daddy longlegs spider? Folklore has it that if you see one in the evening you’ll have good luck. Amid all the chaos?” He pointed to her shirt again, “Dali saw hope.”

He was so close she could feel the heat that poured off him, or maybe it was her own heat. In any case, she wanted to fan herself. She couldn’t look away from his probing gaze either. How had it happened? For a month and half she’d kept her emotional distance and now after their first real physical encounter she was one big responsive-to-him mess.

“Did you mention something in your first note about breakfast? I’m starved.”

She wasn’t and she probably wouldn’t eat a cereal flake given that she wanted to dive all over him at the moment, but she’d try to act natural. At least until she got a handle on this overwhelming lust.

“Yes I had—” A buzzer went off and he frowned. “That’s Andrew. I’ll only be a second. I had him set the table up over there, by the bay window.”

Lacy headed in the direction of the window, but not before she watched him walk back to his desk. This David was almost the David she was used to. Almost.

“Lacy?”

She turned before she sat down in one of the upholstered parson’s chairs. “Yes?”

“Did you make your bed before you came down here?”

“Yeah.” She went to sit down and then hesitated. “Wait, was that why Andrew buzzed you? Wasn’t it good enough?”

“It was fine. Sit.” When he took the chair opposite her on the other side of the table she waited for him to say more. She definitely heard a ‘but’ in there somewhere. “But the beds are changed on a daily basis so there’s no need for you to go through the trouble.”

She dropped her napkin on her lap and frowned. “Daily? Who are you, Oprah Winfrey? I hear she does the same thing.”

He picked up his napkin. “And who are you? One of your friends again? I much preferred Lacy Pembrook, owner of a kick-ass Dali t-shirt.”

She blinked as she had nothing to say to that. She wasn’t going to let him charm her.

After he waited a beat he settled back in his chair and added, “And no, I’m not Oprah, but I admire her though. She’s an epic.”

“Good to know. Strawberry?” She pushed the bowl of plump red berries his way.

“No thanks. I prefer those served a different way.”

Yeah, she didn’t have to burn any brain cells trying to figure out how that
way
probably worked. “You certainly have a lot of
preferences
.”

“Guilty.” He hiked a brow and, worse than that, he shrugged. After all the grief he’d given her over the gesture last night, here he was doing it as he continued, “What can I say? I’m a man with particular tastes.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Me, too.” Sinking back, her spine had barely rested against the fabric when she sprang forward to add, “Only I’m a woman.”

His deep grin made her want to slide under the table. “Good to know. Muffin?”

Oh for fuck’s sake. Why not? “Sure.”

She chewed without tasting. Her every thought was that maybe she was in over her head here. He’d pegged her for a wanderer, but she was fast coming to see she was a deserter. Was there a difference?

“So tell me, what’s the reason you take this getaway trip every year at this time?”

She almost choked on her bite of muffin. Where did this come from? “Who told you there was a reason?”

He didn’t even flinch, he just stared. “You did.”

“Oh.”

“Tell me.”

She thought about it for a few seconds and decided either he was really smart or she was really stupid because she was going to be honest with him. She wasn’t even sure why she was doing it. “It’s my brother’s birthday. My parents always throw a big party and I don’t like to go.”

“When is it?”

“On Sunday.”

“So, in less than a week.”

She looked down and fiddled with her napkin. “Yeah.”

“Let them know we’ll be there.”

That got her attention. “What? No.”

And her adamant reply got his attention too. He pushed his plate aside. Pushed his napkin aside and rested his folded arms on the table. “Yes.”

“You’re going to make me go?”

He wasn’t even fazed. Clearly she needed to bone up in the puppy-dog eyes department because they had no effect on him.

“We’re going to go. Unless you use an out.”

An out? Did he mean…? “My safe word?”

“It’s about limits. If you and I visiting your parents pushes you beyond what you can comfortably deal with, then yes, I mean your safe word. Tell me now.”

Oh boy. It was on the tip of her tongue to shout
cowbell
so loudly all the distant neighbors would hear, but would it be right to do that? It wasn’t the party itself, it was her family. Surely she could deal with them for a few hours. After all, it was him she had to worry about. In the coming days there might be a time when she’d have to legitimately use her out. Best not to be the wolf crier at this point.

“No, I’ll call them. It will be fun.”

“Perfect. Is there anything you should tell me about your family?”

She shook her head. Praying the word
absolutely
wasn’t written all over her face.

“You’re sure?”

She couldn’t look him in the eyes when she nodded. She remained turned away for what seemed like five full excruciating minutes, but it was probably only one, as he studied her. She could feel his gaze drilling into the side of her head. Any second now the expansive quiet was going to break her.

“Are you finished?”

That question broke something. The terrible silence and she wanted to jump up and scream,
Yes, yes I’m finished. I want to go home
, but she wasn’t a wanderer. She wasn’t.

“Yes.” Now she looked at him. “Did I read something about plans for us today?”

He stood and held his hand out toward her. “For us?”

“Yes.” She put her hand in his and went to get up.

“No.”

“But I thought…” She hesitated, looking up at him.

“Do I have plans for you? Yes.”

She didn’t like the sound of that. Not one bit.

“Lacy?” He tilted up her chin.

“Yes?”

“Are you nervous?”

She shouldn’t have been. He was softly caressing her cheek with the pad of his thumb, and his eyes no longer had that earlier intensity. Yet here she was. Nervous as hell. “Yes.”

“Good.”

When he went to turn from her, she stopped him. “Hey, why do you think it’s good that I’m nervous around you?”

“It means I’m touching you.”

“Is that all?” She gave an exaggerated snort. “Believe me, you nailed doing that last night. That was the best orgas—hey!”

He pulled her over to one of the leather loungers that sat opposite his desk. One minute she was trying to disengage her hand from his and the next she was bent over the arm of the chair. Before she could push herself up from it, he held her down with one hand and pulled her pants and thong down with the other.

“David!”

He didn’t say a word as he bent over her. At first she thought he was going to screw her right there. But then he remained fully clothed even though he pressed himself intimately against her. His heat and the power of him was the best kind of aphrodisiac but, then he began raining light kisses on the side of her neck. Biting and licking so lightly she wanted more, and when he slid his hand between her and the chair and played with her breasts through her shirt, she moaned. He plucked at her nipples and pinched them hard until she flexed her bottom back into him praying he’d get the unspoken message.

Oh God, he did. Just as he’d done last night, he slid a finger into her. Deep, really deep, and all her inner muscles remembered him. They clutched and squeezed around him, only this time instead of working her into a slow building frenzy he went right to the spot. Caressing it hard, but oh so good. Too good. She didn’t even have time to enjoy the explosion as her body moved forward before her mind had a chance to catch up.

“Jesus Christ!” She gasped when he let go of her and stood back. She didn’t move for a moment while she tried to calm her racing heart. Licking her lips and pushing the hair out of her eyes, she was going to pull up her pants, but he beat her to it.

“David.”

He actually lifted her by the pants so she slid right down into her thong first and then her Levis as he bounced her. Not very ladylike or elegant, but effective none-the-less. After she did up the zipper and refastened the button she blew the hair off her cheek and spun around to look up at him. “What was that all about?”

There wasn’t a hair of his out of place. He looked as dead sexy now as he did when she first saw him this morning. Aggravating to the extreme especially when she had a good idea what she currently looked like. She was going to scan down to confirm her suspicions, but his words stopped her. Actually, the tone he spoke them in made her stand straighter and pay attention.

“I can
touch
you like that anytime I want, and your body will always give into me. The reason being is that, right now, your submission is about as deep as my penetrating you. So where’s the challenge in that? When I request your submission, it will be immeasurable.” He reached out and pulled her into his arms, enveloping her in an embrace that was solid. Warm. All consuming as he curled down and whispered in her ear, “Would you like to know why?”

She didn’t trust herself to speak, as she brushed her forehead against his chest in a nod.

“I want to touch the parts of you no one else has touched. I want to own the piece of you that has yet to be discovered. So stop resisting. Let go. Let it happen.”

It felt so good being crushed against him that she closed her eyes and sighed. “I agreed to stay with you, and I will no matter what.”

He leaned back and forced her to look at him. When she did she was surprised to see a sparkle of amusement in his eyes. “Although I appreciate the sentiment, I don’t want you merely coping. I want you craving. Me.”

He kissed her then. Not the teasing, sexy let’s-get-to-know-one-another-in-a-romantic-sense kind of a kiss that they’d shared while they flirted with each other over those dinners. This was an open mouthed, hot, deep, I-fucking-want-to-know-you-in-the-most-basic-biblical-sense-possible kind of kiss. It sapped her will. Her strength and her balance when she collapsed against him with a groan. Sinking her hands his hair, she fisted those coarse strands as she anchored herself for better access to his mouth.

By the time he broke the embrace she was glad to see that she wasn’t the only one breathing hard. He was quicker to recover, though, as he cradled her cheek and brushed the pad of his thumb over her lips, drying them. When he was done, he cleared his throat and stepped back.

“About those plans? You aren’t allergic to dust, scared of dark places or afraid to be alone for hours at a time, are you?”

He didn’t wait for her to answer. He only turned and headed toward the door while all kinds of things popped into her head. Him blindfolding her, tying her up and leaving her in his basement for the balance of the morning. Or maybe in an outdoor shed? No, as she headed after him, she decided those things were probably too common for a guy like him. A car. An old antique car that hadn’t been driven in a really long time that he kept parked in a garage somewhere on his estate. That could be dusty, dark and a place to be abandoned for hours at a time.