The Game (13 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Les encouraged me to settle on the plush couch in the living room with my wine and
left me to wander deeper into the house.

For several minutes I pondered my options. I had arrived here uninvited. I hadn’t
even called or texted Riley first. He might not appreciate me barging into his home,
especially when he wasn’t there.

I swallowed my fears, set my wine on the coffee table, and took a deep breath. Riley
wasn’t the sort of man who would be angry with my unexpected visit, but more importantly,
he would be angry if I kept the fact that Christine had taken over my department a
secret.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, trying to slow my racing heart and gather
my brain cells into something coherent before I faced him.

And that was the last thing I knew before a hand landed on my shoulder and soft words
filled my ear. “Cheyenne. Baby.”

Confused, I blinked, staring up at Riley.

His brow was furrowed, but he smiled as I came awake.

A delicious scent filling the house. Red sauce? Tomatoes… Garlic… Basil… Yes. My stomach
growled. My eyes widened farther, and I bolted upright, knocking a soft throw blanket
off my upper body to pool around my waist.

Riley sat on the coffee table, his face inches from mine. “You okay?”

I glanced around. Geez. “What time is it? I must have fallen asleep.”

Riley chuckled. “You think?”

My face heated. That hadn’t been my intention. Then again, I hadn’t slept enough in
days, especially the night before. I swallowed. My gaze scanned the room and paused
when I saw a woman in the kitchen, her back to me as she leaned over several steaming
pots on the stove. Justine. How had I slept through her cooking?

Riley brushed a lock of hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear. “Talk to me.”

I met his gaze. I decided to just spill it. “I have a new boss.”

“Yeah?” He frowned.

“Christine.”

“What?” He nearly shouted as he jumped to his feet and ran his hands through his hair,
making it stand in disarray. Instead of looking ridiculous, it made him even more
attractive. My mouth watered, but now was not the time to drool.

“That was my reaction too.”

“So you showed up at work today and found that crazy bitch in your space?” He stepped
around the coffee table to pace the center of the room.

“No. Yesterday.” I bit my lower lip.

Riley stopped pacing to face me. “Yesterday? Why the hell didn’t you tell me then?”

“I wanted to handle it myself.” That had been a bad idea. I rushed on to explain myself.
“And there was hardly time. As soon as Christine got her claws in me, she put me to
work until late last night. I didn’t have a chance to breathe, let alone make phone
calls.”

Riley’s mouth fell open, but he sucked in a deep breath, seemingly deciding against
his next words, and shook his head. “Tell me what happened.”

“She knew I worked there.” I shivered, recalling the way she’d met my gaze first thing
yesterday morning, a smirk on her face.

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t see how even Christine could have pulled that off. I know she’s certifiable,
but managing to land a job where my woman works in that short period of time is beyond
the pale. She would have had to pull some major strings.”

I didn’t add anything. He was right. I was as perplexed as him. Besides, I was hung
up on the way he called me his “woman,” uncertain if I found that terminology endearing
or annoying.

Nevertheless, somehow Christine had done exactly that.

“Did she do anything?”

I rolled my eyes and gave a sharp chuckle, pushing the blanket off my legs and standing.
I at least wanted to add the few extra feet to my height if I was going have this
discussion. “You could say that.”

Riley scowled. “Tell me.”

I smoothed my hand down my wrinkled blouse and adjusted it at my waist where it had
come partially untucked. “She waited until the end of the day yesterday to toss a
project on my desk—a project that was not part of my job description, mind you. I
worked on it until after ten o’clock and then emailed the final edits back to her.
She called a staff meeting for early this morning, inviting everyone but me, and then
proceeded to make a spectacle of me when I came in late, pointing out what a horrible
job I had done and demonstrating this fact by projecting a sabotaged version of my
work for everyone to see.”

“That bitch. So, that happened this morning?”

“Yes.”

“And you still didn’t call me.”

“Can we maybe not harp on that fact?” I should have called him. “Amy warned me you
would be livid if I didn’t tell you.”

That was the wrong thing to say. “So, you made time to call Amy, but not me.” He set
his hands on his hips and pressed his shoulders back, making him seem even larger
than before. Formidable.

“I wanted to handle it myself,” I mumbled.

I jumped when I heard the lid of a pot clang in the kitchen and turned to find Justine
still at work over the stove. She paid no attention to us, but I felt weird having
this discussion in front of her.

Les wandered in at that moment and went to his wife, whispering something in her ear.
She nodded and bustled around some more.

Riley cleared his throat, but before he could speak, Les beat him to it. “We’ll be
leaving in a moment, sir. Is there anything else you need?”

“No. Thank you, Les. And Justine, that smells fantastic. I’m sure we’ll devour it.”

Justine turned around, and I was granted a view of the front of her for the first
time. She smiled broadly, two dimples appearing on her cheeks. She appeared to be
about the same age as her husband, perhaps late fifties. Her hair was curly, short,
and graying at the temples. She was just slightly overweight—the kind of weight a
woman would carry after she had kids.

I loved her immediately.

“I hope I didn’t wake you, dear,” she said. “I tried to be quiet. You looked like
you needed your nap.”

I smiled. “I must have been exhausted. Never heard a thing. And considering how good
it smells in here, I must have really been out.” Normally there was no way I would
have slept through someone cooking behind me, and this wasn’t even my own home.

“I tossed that blanket over you. You were shivering.”

“Thank you.” I didn’t love her. I adored her.

“Let’s get out of here, hon. Leave these two to their evening.” Les tugged on his
wife’s arm.

“Just let me finish up here, and we’ll be out of your way.” She turned back to face
the stove and bustled about finishing her preparations.

“Thank you, Les. Justine. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Riley didn’t take his gaze off me.

I shuddered, working hard to hold his gaze, not wanting to seem like a pushover.

We stayed that way until Les and Justine made their exit, the door shutting with a
resounding click as though it was much louder than it should have been.

I tucked my lips into my mouth and watched as Riley padded up to me. He gently pulled
me to the center of the room by my bicep and then his fingers trailed down to my hand.
As he lifted it to his lips and kissed my knuckles, I tipped my head back.

“I’m sorry about Christine. If I suspected she would have interfered in your life,
I would have done something about it. I can’t believe she would stoop this low after
all this time. I’ll deal with her tomorrow.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want you to deal with her. I’m a big girl. I’ll handle my
own battles.”

He frowned at me. “This isn’t your battle, Cheyenne. It’s mine. She’s my ex, and I
won’t have her intimidating you. I’ll handle it.”

I shook my head with more force. “No. Riley, I’m serious. If you swoop into my place
of work and throw your weight around, no one will respect me. I need to fix this myself
with my head held high. I can do it.”

Bile rose into my throat at the thought of having my new boyfriend come in and rock
the boat at Talent Marketing Group. I wasn’t ready for anyone in my office to know
I was even seeing him, let alone have him pull strings to make my life easier.

He stared at me for several seconds before blowing out a breath. “This discussion
isn’t over.”

I didn’t move. There was nothing more to say. There was no way he would drop the subject
entirely, but I felt like I had at least made my point in round one.

“I’m starving. Let’s eat, and then we can talk some more.”

As good as the house smelled from Justine’s cooking, my stomach was in knots. There
was no way I could swallow yet. “I’m not hungry. You go ahead.”

He narrowed his gaze at me and inhaled long and slow before speaking. “Submit to me
then. It will help you relax. Redirect your attention to following my instructions
and focus on how your body reacts to my commands.”

I considered his proposition as a shiver shook my body. My heart rate increased at
the idea of letting him control me in the middle of this strife.

Was it the right thing to do?

We stared at each other in a standoff. He was waiting on me. Patiently. Giving no
indication one way or the other as to his thoughts.

I needed this. I needed his commands to help center me and give me something different
to focus on. He could erase Christine from my day with just a word. Finally, I nodded.

In a calm, flat voice devoid of any telling signs, he stated, “Take your clothes off,
Cheyenne. I want you on your knees in front of me.”

I flinched, not expecting those words.

“Now, baby. Don’t hesitate when I give you a directive.”

He lowered himself into an armchair, crossed his legs, and rubbed his chin with the
fingers of his right hand nestled on the arm of the chair.

So casual.

“Cheyenne,” he warned.

Shocking me, my panties grew wet. It was unreasonable. Why would I grow aroused by
this man ordering me to strip for him on the tail end of such a serious discussion?

My fingers shook as I reached for the buttons on my blouse and slowly slipped each
one through its hole. I was really doing this. Letting this man shift gears and take
control of my every move. We had resolved nothing. He hadn’t agreed to stay out of
my business. Taking a one-eighty, we were switching from an argument about how to
handle his ex to a full-blown D/s scene.

And it felt right. Even with my heart racing and my hands shaking, it felt like the
perfect decision. I was stressed beyond measure. Why not flip things upside down and
escape for a while?

Naked.

I stared at his unwavering face, the intensity in his gaze making my nipples harden.
He looked like he wanted to devour me. And I was loath to admit I liked the idea.
Even if we were diverting from our discussion, it was worth it if he wanted to fuck
first and talk later. Maybe we could have a calmer, more rational discussion after
a good fuck.

I shrugged the sleeves of my white blouse down my arms and laid it on the coffee table.
Next I lowered the zipper on my navy skirt and let it fall to the floor. I swooped
it up and set it next to my blouse.

Standing before this man who filled the entire room with his presence, I blew out
a breath. I was down to my matching pink lace panty set.

“Take off the rest, Cheyenne.”

I shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d ordered me around like this all weekend—two
straight days. That had only been two days ago. No part of me should have been surprised
at his demands.

And yet…

I inhaled sharply and popped the front clasp on my bra, lowered it down my arms, and
tossed it on my other clothes. Next, I dipped my fingers into the sides of my panties
and bent down to extract them from my feet.

Now I was naked. Far more naked than just the removal of clothes. I was exposed. As
if he could see into my soul.

I couldn’t keep myself from crossing my arms over my chest as goose bumps rose on
my entire body.

Riley didn’t bother to comment on my actions. He simply gave more commands. “On your
knees, baby.”

I lowered to the floor where I was, several feet from him. My thighs quivered.

“Knees wider. Shoulders back. Face the floor. Clasp your hands at your back.”

I followed his instructions easily. He’d taught me all this over the weekend.

My nipples stood at attention, and I squeezed my eyes shut in an attempt to deny to
myself that I was aroused. The wetness leaking from my pussy threatened to run down
my spread legs.

“Good girl. When I tell you to strip, do it without hesitation, and always assume
this position unless I instruct you otherwise.”

“Yes, Sir.” I spoke the words so softly I wasn’t sure he heard them. I was stuck on
him calling me a “good girl,” as if I were a child. It caused an incongruent mix of
emotions. I liked being praised. But did I like the words he chose?