The Submission of Alistair Ingram (12 page)

Bethany
swallowed hard and dug her fingernails into her legs. She was practically
panting with need for this man. “What look?”

“I’m
not sure if you want me buried between your legs or buried in your backyard.”

She
licked her lips. “Maybe I want you buried in my mouth.”

His
chin dropped, and he eyed her from under his thick lashes. The haze of lust was
so thick she could barely breathe.

“If
I didn’t have to be at this fucking interview, I’d have you on your knees in a
second.”

She
shrugged. “Guess I’ll fill my mouth with a smoothie instead.”

Alistair
chuckled. It was a dark, dangerous sound. “For now.”

She
shivered. She had nothing to fear from him. His promises were for pleasure
only. He didn’t carry the darkness inside that those in her past had. He was
safe.

She
was safe.

“Are
you ready yet?” Kent yelled from somewhere down the hall, jerking Bethany out
of her frozen mental state. She needed to get a grip.

“Almost!”
Alistair shouted back. “Get the car ready!”

“It
is, asshole!”

Striding
to his dresser, Alistair laughed. “He hates me.”

“I’m
sure he doesn’t,” she said, slipping on her sandals. “He wouldn’t be here if he
did, would he?”

Pulling
a pair of boxer briefs from his top drawer, Alistair cocked his brows together.
“He makes an assload of money off of me, so he puts up with my shit.”

“Maybe
he should spank you every time you give him shit.” She didn’t like it when he
slipped into his Alistair-bashing moods, and he was getting close.

“Maybe
you should do it for him.” Teasing, he stuck his ass out toward her.

“Maybe
I will.” She darted forward and smacked him with her open hand that cracked
against his bare skin.

“Ouch!”
He laughed and rounded on her, grabbing her around the waist. His hand came
down hard on her butt, and she gasped. Her mind reeled. Her body froze. He’d
hit her.

“Oh,
shit,” he muttered, holding on to her. “That was playful. That wasn’t real. I
wasn’t hitting you for any reason other than to play around. You know that,
right? I’d never hurt you.”

Still
locked inside herself, she felt her head nodding, stiffly.

Alistair’s
hands cupped her face, and he stared into her eyes. “Where are you? Come back
to me.” He crushed his lips into hers, and she let her eyes fall shut. His
hands were warm on her cheeks, his lips soft and firm, insistent and urgent.
His thumbs stroked her cheeks, and his tongue sought entrance between her lips.
She let him in, desperate for him to make the chill of fear recede.

He
slid his hands back into her hair, cupping her head and tilting it back. His
kisses left her lips and found her jaw, her ear, her neck. She felt herself
melting into him, relaxing in his arms.

How
long would he do this—put up with her shit like Kent put up with his? Why would
he bother? And what was she even doing here? Nobody was going to buy into the
story that she was training him as a Dom. She couldn’t even keep control of him
for more than ten minutes—hell she couldn’t keep control of herself at all.

Everything
she’d ever known, or thought she knew, about men went right out the window with
Alistair Ingram. She knew nothing.

She
knew his kiss, the way he touched her…was everything.

God
help her, she was losing this battle, mind
and
body.

Rot
and Ruin

Standing
in front of
The Hollywood Harpy
offices, Alistair shielded his eyes with
his hand and glanced around. “I thought there was a smoothie place right across
the street.” The only thing he saw was office building after office building.
“I must be thinking of somewhere else. There has to be a Starbucks on the
corner though.”

“He’s
hopelessly addicted to caffeine.” Heather Winston stepped up beside Bethany on
the sidewalk, and Alistair’s stomach dropped into his shoes. “I hear she’s
staying in our house.” Heather’s eyes bore into Alistair’s. “Word travels
fast.”

The
panic he felt intensified when Bethany turned to Heather with a smile and held
out her hand. He wasn’t sure if this was an introduction or if she’d throw
Heather on the ground and teach her a thing or two about having a smart mouth.

Reluctantly,
Heather took her hand.

“Bethany
Stavars. Nice to meet you.”

Stavars.
How could this be the first he’d learned her last name? God, good thing she was
introducing herself because that could’ve been embarrassing.

“Heather
Winston. Of course, you know that from the news coverage by now.”

Alistair
opened his mouth to intervene, but didn’t get—or need—the chance.

“I
saw quite a bit of the coverage,” Bethany said, still smiling brightly with a
hint of the-cat-who-ate-the-canary at the corners of her lips. “The mint
bowl—nice throw. You have a good arm. I bet you were a force to be reckoned
with in middle school dodge ball.”

All
of Heather’s features drew in, like she was honing in on her target. “I’m still
a force to be reckoned with.”

“What
are you doing here?” Alistair asked, not able to take it anymore. He stepped
between the two women, making Bethany take a step back behind him. He knew he’d
pay for that one later.

Heather’s
face brightened, like she’d just won the lottery and was about to tell him.
“This interview is with both of us, Darling. An exclusive tell-all, of course.”
She stepped to the side, making eye contact with Bethany again. “You’re coming
too, right? It seems only fitting to get your side of the story—you know—since
I haven’t.” The last word was spoken so sharply, Alistair could see it cutting
the air. Crazily, he pictured a ninja star spinning toward Bethany’s jugular
and almost laughed.

Ninja
star words from Heather Winston. Jesus, he had absolutely lost it. After this
mess was cleared up, he’d take a nice long vacation. Lay on a beach with clear
blue water sipping Mai Tai’s in the sun.

“Alistair
and I have the same story,” Bethany said. “There’s not much I can add.”

Thank
God. She stuck with the plan. Alistair could kiss her right now. But wouldn’t.
Not with Heather standing there.

Heather
hooked her arm through Bethany’s and started leading her toward
The
Hollywood Harpy
front doors. “You can’t stand out here on the sidewalk,”
Heather said. “You’re waiting inside, right?”

Bethany
glanced back at Alistair, looking for a lifeline. Too bad he didn’t have one.

He
followed them through the glass doors into the lobby and came face-to-face with
the reporter from Hell, Chessa Bond.

Between
these three women, the odds of him getting out of this interview with all of
his limbs—and his dick—intact were looking slimmer by the second. Maybe they
could just do the interview without him—talk about what an asshole playboy he was
and be done with it.

“Good
to see you again,” Chessa said, giving Heather a warm hug. “How are you?” The
question couldn’t have been more loaded. She wanted Heather to break down in
tears. The only question was whether Heather would play along.

If
he knew Heather—and he did—she would.

“And
you are?” Chessa asked, turning her attention to Bethany.

“Bethany
Stavars, but the name you used in the captions under my photos say Black
Betty.”

“Ah.”
Chessa raised her penciled-on brows, focusing her beady eyes on Alistair. “You
brought her home with you. The plot thickens.”

The
threat of an epic tongue lashing from Kent was the only thing keeping Alistair
from turning and getting the hell out of there. “Let’s just get this over
with.”

“I
won’t keep you long. I know you’re a very busy man.” Her thin lips slid into a
devilish smile.

This
was going to be a fucking nightmare.

“I’ll
wait for you in the S.U.V. with Kent,” Bethany said. “Nice meeting you both.”
She smiled at Heather and Chessa and took a step back like she was retreating
from an eminent attack.

Which
she was if she stayed one second longer. Kent probably shit himself in the
S.U.V. when he saw Heather and Bethany within one hundred yards of each other.
Alistair was surprised he hadn’t hauled his lazy ass out from behind the wheel
and run an intervention.

“No,
no.” Chessa said, grasping Bethany’s elbow and steering her toward a hallway
leading out of the lobby. “You’re as much a part of this story as Alistair and
Heather. Come on back to my office with us.”

Falling
into step behind Bethany, Heather slipped her fingers through Alistair’s and
tugged him along, swinging their joined hands between them. The look on her
face couldn’t be described as anything other than evil and determined. “You
won’t get away with doing this to me,” she said with a smile. “I’ll ruin you.”

Taste And Touch

“Why
don’t we start with you, Bethany? Tell us your side of the story,” Chessa said,
sitting behind her large desk with its zebra print blotter.

Somehow
she’d gotten Alistair to agree to letting her video record their interview
session. Bethany wanted to strangle him for ever walking into Dolls & Doms.
Maybe she should strangle Bradley Burton, the best man, for having Alistair’s
bachelor party there in the first place.

She
shifted in her chair, all too aware of the penetrating eye of the video camera,
and cleared her throat. “There’s not much to tell. I was working Mr. Ingram’s
bachelor party at Dolls & Doms. We thought it would be fun to role-play
some of the things I’ve been training him on for the
Hues of Black and Blue
audition. He thought his friends would get a laugh out of it. Unfortunately,
the events of the evening were misconstrued.” She folded her hands in her lap
and gave Chessa a tight smile, avoiding eye contact with the camera lens.

“So,
you’re saying that’s it?” Chessa said, clearly not buying the story.

“I’m
saying that’s it,” Alistair said. “Leave her out of this. She did what she’s
paid to do—by Dolls & Doms and by me as my personal trainer.”

Something
in Bethany’s chest lurched at his protectiveness of her, at the fierce look in
his eyes. It wasn’t fear she felt—it was something foreign. She couldn’t think
of a time when someone stood up for her before. Not even as a child.

“So,
what about the sex then?” Chessa asked. “
The Hues of Black and Blue
role
is highly sexual in nature. Are the two of you having sex?”

“No.”
Alistair spit the word off his tongue like it was poison. Like he hadn’t just
wrecked her with his fingers…with his mouth… Left her a broken mess on his bed.
But, he hadn’t lied. They hadn’t had sex and wouldn’t, even if Bethany did feel
her resolve wavering.

“Don’t
believe it,” Heather said, scooting to the edge of her chair. “He came back
that night and told me what happened.”

Alistair
shot out of his chair. “Did I
say
we had sex, Heather?” He stalked
toward her. “Did those words
ever
leave my lips?”

She
eased back in her seat. “No.”

Bethany’s
eyes darted from Heather to Alistair to the camera. This wouldn’t look good
when it got out, and there was no doubt it would. She reached out and took
Alistair by the wrist, gently pulling him back toward his chair. “Sit,” she
said, firmly.

He
did.

Heather
laughed. “She
does
have you trained, doesn’t she? Black Betty’s little
lap dog.”

“This
is fucking ridiculous,” Alistair said, out of his chair again and hauling
Bethany up by her arm. She didn’t resist. “We’re out of here.”

Even
though she knew this interview would be career suicide for him, Bethany
breathed a sigh of relief when they were back outside getting into the S.U.V.

“What
happened?” Kent said, twisting to face the backseat as she climbed in. “There’s
no way that interview was only five minutes.”

The
glare Alistair shot Kent made the hair on Bethany’s arms stand on end. “I told you
to never schedule an interview with that woman again.”

Kent
slammed his hand into the steering wheel. “Fuck. What did you do?”

“That,”
Alistair said, jabbing his finger toward the building from where he stood
outside the back passenger door, “was walking into an execution. Did you know
Heather was going to be here?”

Kent
turned his eyes to the front windshield and shrugged. “Well, I…it might have
been mentioned.”

Alistair
slammed his fist against the side of the S.U.V. Bethany about jumped out of her
skin. He gave her a regretful look and shook his head. “Why would you send me
in there if you knew what it was going to be?”