Temptation to Submit (2 page)

“Do you think it was the booze?” Dimitri asked.

“No, I don’t.” He smiled at his friend. “Want a lift?”

“Hell no. I’m heading back into the bar. I’ll get a taxi.” Dimitri clapped Atticus on the back. “I don’t want to be around when she wakes up.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“Because she is going to wake up pissed, and she’s got a mean right hook.” Dimitri laughed and headed back to the busy bar.

Atticus drove Victoria back to the hotel, negotiating Las Vegas traffic with half his attention, the rest focused on the woman passed out in the back. He parked the car and then dealt with his precious cargo. “Wake up, Victoria.”

“Where are we?” she murmured.

“Your hotel.” He moved closer to lift her into his arms, but she waved him away and climbed out of the backseat, giving him a mouthwatering view of her legs. When she rose to her feet, she was unsteady and gripped his arm.

It was a good thing that ConFed had reserved the whole floor of the hotel where the senior executives stayed. Atticus slipped through a seldom-used back door and supported Victoria, who could barely walk. Still, it was a pleasure and a torture to manhandle her into the elevator.

He was prepared for her to be deadweight. He wasn’t prepared when she curled around his body and threaded her fingers in his hair. “I wonder if you taste as good as you smell,” she murmured, and before he had a chance to stop her, she pressed her lips to his.

It took every single ounce of control he had to keep his hands still. He wasn’t cold beneath her touch, but he didn’t take over. If she had been sober, he would have devoured her, stripped her, and fucked her right there.

She hummed and licked his upper lip. “You do taste as good as you smell,” she whispered.

He reached up and pulled her arms away. “You don’t have my permission to touch me, Victoria,” he said sternly.

She dropped to her knees and mouthed his cock through his pants. “Then give me permission, Finch. I want to suck you.”

Damn it. Atticus closed his eyes for what seemed like an eternity, the warmth of her mouth making his head spin. She licked his trousers, and he almost came in his briefs. Instead, he gripped her hair and yanked her head back. “No.” Fuck. It was like razor blades saying that one word.

She struggled to get closer, to put her mouth on his cock. He hauled her to her feet by her hair, and she slapped at his hands. “Ow! Let me go, you bastard.”

He let go of her hair to grip her arms and pin them behind her back, forcing her to face him. “You’re drunk. You’ll regret it in the morning. When I give you permission to suck my cock, Victoria, you’re damn well going to remember it.”

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. He roughly guided her toward the hallway and dragged her to his room. She remained quiet as he opened the door and led her inside his hotel room.

“You’re wrong,” she said when he shut the door.

He turned around, and she fell to her knees, head bent, hands clasped behind her. Jesus, she was beautiful. Her black dress fit her curves perfectly. She was at least five feet seven, taller in those killer heels she was wearing, so when she knelt, she was gorgeous. Her blonde hair was loose and flowing, her green eyes were hidden from him as she focused on his feet, and her tits—what he could say about her breasts would make erotic poetry seem tame.

“What am I wrong about, Victoria?” he asked as he was still frozen at the door.

She raised her head and met his gaze. “I wouldn’t regret it.”

He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. He wanted her so much, had wanted her for so long, and now she was offering it all to him. But no matter what she said, she was impaired.

Finally, he strode toward her and bent down. He pulled her to her feet and whirled her into his arms. Without another word and working on adrenaline alone, he lifted her off her high heels and carried her into the bedroom.

He put her down at the end of the bed and unzipped her dress. While he undressed her, she stroked his hair, his face, his arms until he was ready to go against his better judgment and fuck her brains out.

When he unhooked her bra, she moaned. He had to stop and close his eyes for a moment as he realized she was wearing garters. Fucking garters.

He couldn’t help that his hands trembled a little as he unsnapped one and then the other and pulled the belt off. Then he rolled her stockings down. Her scent slammed into him like a steam roller, and he had to stop again. All the while, her hands were busy touching him, driving him crazy.

She obliged him by lifting her hips with a smile as he removed her lacy panties. Naked and warm, she clung to him as he slid her farther up on the bed. He pulled a blanket over her and took her face in his hands.

When he bent to kiss her, she met him halfway. He invaded her mouth, demanding a response. She tasted of whiskey and chocolate. It reminded him that she was not sober, and he tore his mouth from hers. “Damn it, Victoria, you’re driving me—”

He stopped, interrupted by a very loud snore. “Damn, damn, damn,” he snarled and rose from the bed. Control. The woman shredded it every fucking time. It took several deep breaths and repeating the same mantra he’d been muttering for months to calm his frustration.

It was the most stirred up he’d ever been in his life. He was usually the more restrained of his circle of friends, though Tony had him beat on the most laid-back. Raised on Eastern ideals but filled with Western ambition, Atticus often found himself split between the more serene reaction to life and the Dominant, aggressive side that reared its ugly head every time he was in the same room with Victoria Rodgers.

With another muttered oath, he spun away from the bed and went into the living room part of the suite to pour himself a drink. He was, no doubt, out of his mind to keep Victoria here, but she was too drunk to get back to her room, and he didn’t want anyone to see her in that condition. Hopefully, she hadn’t been seen when she’d hauled off and hit him in the bar.

Her coworkers wouldn’t cut the accounting secretary much slack. They already resented her involvement in the negotiations with ConFed during the takeover. For many months, Atticus thought she hadn’t known that her insistence on being a part of the negotiations was viewed as a betrayal of some sort.

But Atticus’s mind went back to a night two months ago that revealed she’d known from the beginning. Two of the software managers had joined negotiations for a few weeks to hammer out specific deals with marketing contracts Sunsoon had before ConFed had bought up the stock and taken over the company.

One of the managers, Jerry Arnold, had made several biting remarks during the meetings, which Victoria had ignored. The comments had skirted personal attacks that made Atticus’s jaw clench. The final straw had been when Arnold made a direct comment about Nell.

“Where is the Dragon Bitch anyway?”
he asked.

Victoria’s head snapped up.
“If you mean Nell, she’s in another meeting.”
She shot a glance at Atticus.
“And I’m sure our little inside jokes aren’t very interesting to Mr. Paulus. Let’s keep it professional, Jerry.”

“Professional?”
Jerry said with a sly smile.
“I’m always professional. And loyal.”

Victoria sighed.
“Is that a stab at me?”
She narrowed her eyes and pointed her pen at him.
“Look, Jerry. I’m well aware that everyone thinks I shouldn’t throw out the welcome mat to ConFed when they bought us out. But I think we were lucky,”
she said, and Atticus had to focus not to show his surprise.
“All in all, ConFed is willing to keep your sorry ass working, and Sunsoon was heading for layoffs. So why don’t you cut the crap. Either you’re going to stay and work hard, or quit. Your choice.”

Jerry opened his mouth and then shut it abruptly. He nodded sharply, and the meeting went on smoothly.

In fact, Jerry had been more forthcoming about software expenditures. That hadn’t stopped Atticus from marking the asshole for relocation to the San Francisco office.

No, she hadn’t had it easy the last six months. It wasn’t going to get any easier either. Tony had decided that Atticus would run the Los Angeles accounting office, and that made Victoria Rodgers his secretary.

She’d assaulted him in public. She’d gotten drunk and disorderly at a ConFed conference. Her punishment was not going to be what she hoped it was. Atticus was sure that she hoped he would spank her, fuck her, force her into the contractual obligation she’d signed under the fraternization clause.

But he wasn’t going to do that. When she did declare that she wanted to be in a Dominant/submissive relationship, she was going to have to beg him to be her Dominant.

He drained the whiskey from the glass. Yeah, right.

* * * *

“Wake up, Ms. Rodgers. Your phone is ringing.”

Tori vaguely heard her ringtone and tried to open her eyes. Damn. What the hell had she been thinking last night? She tried to swallow, and the taste in her mouth was awful. She reached out her hand for her phone, and someone shoved it toward her.

“Hello?”

“Tori?” Nell’s voice sounded strange. And way too chipper for this early in the morning.

“Where the hell did you go last night?” Tori sat up and almost immediately lay back down as the room spun and her stomach heaved.

“It’s a long story and one I won’t go into. I’m here with Mark—”

“You’re with who?” Tori practically screamed it. She’d assumed that Mark had taken Nell back to her room, not that he’d stay all night. When Tori had accused Atticus, it had been more to needle him, not because she believed it.

“Mark. His name is Mark, and he’s one of the—”

“I know who he is.” She glanced up, saw that Atticus was within earshot, and lowered her voice. “Oh my God. I tried to make them let me take you home, but that arrogant fuck Paulus wouldn’t let me.” If he was listening, that was his problem. Damn it. Nell was stuck in some hotel room with a stranger, and all because they’d gotten too drunk the night before.

“I’m at the Hyatt,” Nell said in a reassuring voice. Why the hell was Nell reassuring her? “And Atticus isn’t an arrogant fuck.”

Oh yes he is
. Tori was about to argue with Nell about it, but it was a waste of time. After all, it was an old argument between them.

“He wanted me to tell you where I was.”

There was no doubt in Tori’s mind who “he” was. Mark Conners. The mysterious CEO who was almost never seen in public. She should have forced those bastards to tell her where Nell had been last night. Then Nell’s words and tone seeped into Tori’s fuzzy brain. “You’re not coming back?” Of course, Tori wasn’t in their hotel room either, but Nell didn’t have to know that. “Nell, what’s going on?”

Nell was silent for a long time. Had that bastard touched her? Tori would kill him. Right after she murdered that six-foot-four asshole in the other room. “Nell?”

“Honestly, Tori, Mark is going to be my new boss, and he wanted to work this weekend.”

Work? Seriously? “Are you kidding?” She tried not to sound desperate, like she needed rescuing, even though she most definitely did. “We put up with those long, boring policy meetings, and I thought we were going to cut loose.”

“You and Gina have fun. I’d just slow you down.” Nell sounded concerned at the idea of Tori and Gina let loose on Vegas. If only she knew.

“I want texts at least once a day.” She thought for a moment. Should she tell Nell what she speculated about Mark Conners? Probably not. “I only know what I read about him.”

Her call waiting beeped. Gina. Shit. “I have to get this,” she said to Nell. “Text me.”

She answered Gina’s call. “What the hell happened to you last night?”

“I’m going home.” No preamble. No explanation. No apology for taking the damn car. What the fuck was going on with her friends?

“What do you mean? We have a flight tomorrow.” Tori noticed that Atticus sat in the other room on his computer. Didn’t he ever stop working?

“I’m not staying here. Look, don’t ask me any questions, okay?” Gina sounded heartbroken.

“Gina, what the fuck is going on? Don’t do this. Talk to me.” Tori clutched her cell phone. “Where are you? Are you at the room? I’ll—”

“No!” The word exploded from the phone. “I can’t talk about it now. Just— Is Nell okay?”

“She’s at the Hyatt with Mark Conners.” Tori felt like her world had been shattered. Gina and Nell were Tori’s anchors, her solid ground when other things seemed unstable and uncertain. It seemed as if both of them were falling apart. Gina was the most confident of the three. Why was she running away? And what the hell had happened last night? “Gina, please. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Everything,” she said, her voice cracking. “I’ve got a ride. I’m going back with Tami and Celia. Don’t worry, Tori.”

“Don’t worry? How can you say that? Gina—”

“I’ll see you on Monday.” And she was gone.

Tori stared at her cell phone and immediately called Gina back. It went straight to voice mail.

That was it. She got to her feet and realized she was stark fucking naked. It just raised her temperature higher. What had she done last night that could result in a lack of clothes this morning? There wasn’t a good answer to that question. Her clothes were neatly draped over a chair, and she yanked them on.

Barefoot and pissed beyond reason, she stomped into the next room. “Finch, you’d better have a damn good explanation.”

He didn’t look up from his computer. “An explanation for what?”

“Don’t you dare play dumb with me. This is orchestrated by you and your buddies.” She clenched her fists.

When he didn’t respond, she huffed out a breath and searched for her purse. Once she found it, she stuffed her garters inside, grabbed her shoes, and marched toward the door.

“Stop,” Atticus said sharply, and she could have kicked herself when she did.

“I’m leaving,” she stated firmly.

“Sit down, Ms. Rodgers.” His tone brooked no resistance.

She gritted her teeth. Damn it. Why couldn’t she defy him? Why couldn’t she tell him to fuck off? “Finch—”

“If you want to keep your job, you’d better sit down. Now.” His voice was unyielding, the last word was delivered like a blow to her head, and she cringed at the sound.