Caught Up In You
Roni Loren

CONTENTS

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

Extract Need You Tonight

About the Author

Also by Roni Loren

Praise for Roni Loren

Copyright

About the Publisher

Dedication

To my grandfather, Ron, who buys my books but (thankfully) doesn’t read them. Thank you for always being such a supportive force in my life. I’m proud to be named after you.

ONE

“You know, picturing someone naked this early in the morning isn’t good for your health.”

Kelsey LeBreck leaned forward to get a better view through the kitchen’s pass-through, smirking at Nathan’s jab but not tearing her gaze away from her subject. “Hush and keep flipping his eggs.”

But of course her co-worker ignored that command. “I mean, think how long you’ll have to wait before you can get home to your vibrator and imagine Mr. Tall, Dark, and Loaded rocking your world. You’re going to be so pent up and distracted, you’ll screw up everyone’s order.”

“I do that anyway.” Except his. Never his. Though, that wasn’t really an accomplishment, considering he always ordered the same thing.

“Yet you still get better tips than Chandra.”

“I’m charming that way.” And desperate. When that tip meant the difference between being able to pay for a tank of gas instead of riding the bus, she could channel so much sunshine and sweetness, even the grumpiest customer couldn’t be mad at her for long.

“Are the muffins ready to go in yet? Darryl’s going to be here any minute and you know how he gets if shit is late.”

“Working on it.” Kelsey blindly stirred her muffin batter as she watched Wyatt Austin adjust his glasses, fold his newspaper just so, and then spread out a stack of documents on the table in front of him. He had a way of moving that was somehow graceful and efficient all at once. Like he’d figured out the most streamlined way to do each and every thing so that he could fit the maximum amount of work into every minute of the day.

And maybe he had. God knows his schedule was more predictable than the sunrise. At six fifteen every weekday morning, he would walk in the cafe with his newspaper tucked under his arm and his own travel mug of coffee. He’d sit at the same table in the far corner, the one that provided him both a view of the television on the wall and the least amount of glare for his laptop screen. She knew that only because she’d finally asked him one day why he chose that booth all the time. When she’d joked that he sat there because it was her section, he’d just offered that enigmatic smile of his—one that had promptly made her forget the last order she’d taken from the table before him.

“You need to stop torturing yourself,” Nathan said from behind her, the sizzle of the griddle playing soundtrack in the background. “From what I’ve heard, the suit doesn’t date. And he’s not gay either. Believe me, I’d be the one serving him eggs and sausage if he were.”

She snorted and finally looked back at Nathan. “Sausage? You’re going with that one, really?”

He held his arms out to his sides and gave her a come-on-how-could-I-pass-that-up look.

“How do you even know this stuff? And you, with the fetish for skater boys, would go after Wyatt Austin, CEO-in-training? Please.”

“I love the shit out of that strong, silent type. They’re usually crazy good in the sack. Like they’re saving up all that intensity just for you.” He shrugged and turned over a row of bacon with his spatula. “And money never hurt anybody. I’m not above being a kept man.”

“You’re a top.”

“And so are you, baby girl. But that hasn’t stopped you from your mad, passionate love affair with Mr. In Charge.”

She sighed and turned back to her batter, grabbing a ladle so she could scoop it into the muffin tins. It was a mad, passionate love affair. He was the absolute perfect boyfriend for her right now. Delicious to look at, panty-dampening to fantasize about, and completely and utterly unattainable.

Nathan set a plate next to her and slid the egg white omelet and two slices of turkey bacon onto it. “Order up. Now, if you’re not going to give up on this crush, why don’t you take this plate over there and ask the guy out?”

She spun to face him, muffin tray in her hand. “Did you forget to take your meds today? I’m a waitress and wannabe baker. His family owns an entire company.”

“So the fuck what? He has more money than you. Big deal. Doesn’t mean he’s better than you. In fact, he’d be a damn lucky bastard to get a date with you. Hell, I’d take you out just to get these secret muffin recipes of yours.”

She handed the pan to him, picked up Wyatt’s plate, and kissed Nathan’s cheek. “Thanks, hon. But if I’ve learned one lesson in life, it’s that fantasy is always better than reality.”

He gave her a sly smile. “But fantasy can’t have breakfast in bed with you the next morning.”

No. But it also couldn’t break your heart.

Or break her.

Kelsey turned on her heel and pushed through the kitchen’s swinging door. Time to serve breakfast to her imaginary boyfriend.

* * *

Wyatt sipped his coffee and flipped through the reports he’d printed out last night. The profit margin was still in decent shape, but their client numbers had suffered a significant dip over the last two quarters. Their competitors Merrill and Mead were doing some mighty fast talking and had stolen two of Austin and Associates’ top clients—two clients who Wyatt had been making a shitload of money for. So God only knows what Tony Merrill had promised them to get them to leave. Or maybe Merrill was outright spewing lies about A&A. That’d be his style. The whole thing was giving Wyatt a twitch and a headache.

“Egg white omelet with spinach and cheddar and two slices of turkey bacon, extra crispy.”

Wyatt looked up from the papers, momentarily startled at the interruption. Damn. Usually he made a point to watch Kelsey’s swaying walk over to his table, and he felt a pang of disappointment over missing the morning highlight. That walk and smile were a big part of the reason he’d started driving four blocks past his building to eat breakfast at the Sugarcane Cafe.

His brother, Jace, had introduced him to the place and to Kelsey a few months ago, and Wyatt hadn’t been able resist the temptation of being served by her each morning ever since. The woman could make that retro blue-and-white diner uniform look as sexy as high-end lingerie—not that it had stopped him from picturing her in the latter anyway. “Thank you, Kelsey. This looks great.”

“My pleasure. Anything else I can get you, Mr. Austin?” She smiled with a head tilt that made her blonde ponytail swing behind her.

He’d imagined very, very naughty things involving that ponytail one too many times. Cool it, Austin. “Tell me about the muffin du jour.”

She leaned over and grabbed the discarded sweetener packets he’d used in his coffee, inadvertently giving him a glimpse of the golden curved flesh peeking through the collar of her shirt. “Of course. Thinking of breaking tradition and ordering one today?”

He raised an eyebrow.

She shook her head, but there was humor glinting in those blue eyes. “It’s fresh raspberry made with a touch of vanilla and a citrus-infused simple syrup poured over the top to make them extra moist and tart.”

“Sounds delicious.”

“But you don’t want one,” she said, confirming his standard answer before he could give it. “You know, one day I’m going to bake one that sounds so enticing, you’re not going to be able to help yourself.”

“Is that right?” he asked, fighting a smile. Truth was, he didn’t eat sweets that often. He kept his diet as regimented as his schedule. Discipline in all things. But he loved hearing her describe her food and watching the pure pride that starched her shoulders and brightened her eyes.

“Yep. It’s a personal mission of mine,” she said resolutely, her hand on her hip.

“What is?” he asked, leaning forward onto his forearms, holding her gaze. “To tempt me?”

Her eyes held his for a long beat before they shifted away. She pressed her lips together, smoothing her gloss. “Um …”

He realized too late how low his words had come out, how laced with innuendo. He quickly straightened in his seat, dragging his attention back to his work in front of him. Too young. Too sweet. Too messy. “Bring me one of those muffins, Kelsey.”

There was dead air for a moment, as if she were righting her thoughts, then she said, “Oh, of course. Right away, sir.”

But when she turned on her heel to go, a soft curse passed her lips. She spun back around, and he looked up to find her wearing a please-don’t-hate-me expression. “What’s wrong?”

She peeked back toward the kitchen. “I forgot. They won’t be ready for another fifteen minutes. I got in a little late from my overnight job and didn’t get them started on time.”

He frowned. “You work an overnight shift and then spend all morning here?”

“I only do the other job a few nights a week,” she said hastily. “Usually the timing works out, but there was an accident on the interstate this morning and …”

He held up a palm, silencing her. “I’m not worried about muffins not being ready, Kelsey. But I am wondering when you find time to sleep and take care of yourself. And frankly, I’m a little concerned that you’re driving a car and working in a kitchen with no rest. That’s dangerous.”

Her gaze darted downward, a pink tinge washing over her cheeks. “It’s fine, really. I’m used to crazy schedules and don’t really need a lot of sleep.”

“And both jobs are necessary?”

She looked back at him, and he could see her lingering embarrassment over the conversation. He should be polite and let her off the hook. Her personal business was her own. But the thought of this vibrant girl working herself to the bone to get by wasn’t sitting well with him.

“I’m saving up for culinary school. This job pays for the basics. The other goes into my school savings.”

“I see.”

“Excuse me,” a nasally voice called from a few tables over. Snapping fingers accompanied the annoying interruption. They both turned. A pinched-mouthed woman had her bony hand in the air, trying to get Kelsey’s attention and beckoning her like she was an errant puppy. “I’m out of coffee.”

Wyatt sent the woman a quelling look, and she quickly looked down at her cream-cheesed bagel with a well-I-never huff. He brought his attention back to Kelsey. “Go ahead and take care of your tables. God forbid anyone has to wait a second for something. And let me know when the muffins come out.”

“Yes, sir,” Kelsey said, clearly relieved to be released from the conversation.

And though he was always at his desk by seven sharp, he lingered over his omelet today, taking the time to enjoy the hum of conversation around him and the sight of his favorite waitress doing her job.

Kelsey checked on him once and brought fresh coffee, but in between that, she was a nonstop machine of smiles, banter, and serving prowess. Even when she got something wrong, Wyatt watched in fascination as she won the person over to her side. Hell, she had one older man smiling and apologizing to her when she served him oatmeal instead of cheese grits. He’d patted Kelsey’s arm and joked that his wife must’ve put her up to it since he was supposed to be cutting back on calories anyway.

It was like watching a master-level demonstration in social sparkle. If he had to make all that small talk and feign interest in all these people’s woes and requests, he’d lose his fucking mind. But Kelsey seemed to thrive on it, like she fed off the energy in the diner. She was magnetic to watch.

By the time she made her way back to him with the fresh-out-of-the-oven muffin, his reports and laptop had gone untouched. She set down the plate and laid a fresh napkin next to it. “Hope it doesn’t disappoint after all this time.”

“Oh, I have no doubt it will have been worth the wait,” he said, watching her instead of looking at the muffin.

“Anything else I can get you?”

A hotel room and an hour of your time. Maybe two hours. Or a weekend. But he shook off the tempting thought. Yes, he came here every day to enjoy the presence of his pretty waitress. But he’d always done it with the knowledge of look but don’t touch. Like enjoying a fine piece of art. Meant to be observed, appreciated, even turned on by, but not meant for consumption. Beyond the fact that she was probably at least a decade younger than his thirty-seven years, Wyatt had learned to steer clear of the ones who nudged that old, buried desire that lay sleeping in the recesses of his past. And Kelsey didn’t just nudge it; she fucking assailed it.

“No, this will be all. Thank you.”

“Enjoy.” She gave him a bright smile and sauntered off, the walk just as impressive from the reverse angle. He liked that she moved around with the confidence of a woman who knew she drew attention from the opposite sex and was okay with that—no apologies or self-consciousness. She wouldn’t be the type to insist on doing it in the dark.

Awareness stirred below his belt as he imagined peeling her out of that uniform, tasting that pink-glossed mouth. He shifted in the booth. God, he needed to make some time to get laid. His body was reacting like a fucking teenager drooling over the head cheerleader. Ridiculous. Ever since his colleagues-with-benefits thing had ended with Gwen two months earlier, he’d been working too much to seek out anyone else. But if he didn’t set something up soon, he was going to have to stop coming here and putting temptation in front of himself.

He watched Kelsey maneuver toward the front of the restaurant as he broke off a piece of the muffin and put it in his mouth. Wow, that was good. Moist and still warm and not too sweet. The balance of flavors was complex enough to stand up in one of those frou-frou bakeries where they charged you six bucks for a pastry. No wonder the girl wanted to go to culinary school. He was no chef, but he recognized skill when he tasted it. And she was wasting that in some hole-in-the-wall cafe.

Not your business, his mind warned him.

Wyatt glanced at the clock on the wall. He hadn’t shown up this late for work in longer than he could remember. His assistant was probably all aflutter, wondering if he was dead on the highway or something. Mr. Routine had deviated. Call the press! His phone was on vibrate in his laptop bag, but he had no doubt there’d be messages.

But right when he was about to pull his gaze away from Kelsey and grab his cell out of his bag’s pocket, she halted mid-step, panic freezing her features. Wyatt followed her line of sight to the man who’d walked into the diner. Stocky and spiky-haired with a mean set to his mouth, the guy looked like a human version of a hyena. Kelsey turned quickly toward the kitchen, the tray in her hand wobbling, but the hyena had already locked his sights on her and was making his way in her direction.

A cold feeling crawled up the back of Wyatt’s neck, his protective instincts going on full alert. This man meant trouble. Without moving his attention away from the guy, Wyatt gathered his papers and laptop and tucked them in the bag, preparing in case he needed to intervene.

Kelsey was on a hasty path to the kitchen, but before she could slip behind the counter, the guy laid a hand on her upper arm—a grab, really—and leaned next to her ear to whisper something. For a casual onlooker, the gesture would probably appear friendly, like someone she knew giving her a message. But even from behind, Wyatt could see her body go ramrod straight, could see that she didn’t want this person near her. He had the instant urge to break the guy’s nubby little fingers for daring to touch her.

She nodded stiffly and set her tray down on the counter. The guy nudged her toward the back end of the restaurant. She ventured a quick glance toward the kitchen as she took a step away from the counter, but the kid manning the griddle didn’t seem to notice anything was going on. Wyatt was already on his feet though, heading in that direction. He didn’t want to make a scene if this was, perish the thought, a lovers’ squabble or something. But he’d learned to follow his instincts in business and they never let him down, so he wasn’t going to distrust them in a situation like this.

The man was moving at a casual pace, but he was clearly guiding a reluctant Kelsey to the back exit. Wyatt let them stay a few steps ahead, so he wouldn’t be noticed. But if the two slipped out the back door, he was going to have to get involved. No way was he letting that punk get Kelsey alone in the alley.

“Mr. Austin! Wait!”

Wyatt turned, the instinct to respond to his name automatic, and the other waitress was waving a hand at him and holding his bag. “You forgot your things.”

“Put them behind the counter for me. I’ll be right back.” He quickly turned back toward the exit, but the heavy door was already closed. “Fuck.”

No longer caring who saw him, he jogged toward the door and shoved it open, blinking for a second so his eyes could adjust to the sunlight. “Kelsey.”

A small gasp.

He turned to the left to find Kelsey pressed up against the dirty wall and hyena-man looming over her, his arms braced on each side of her. Trapping her.

“It’s all right, man. Go back inside. I’m just having a little chat with my girlfriend,” the guy said, his easy tone not matching the spark of menace in his dark eyes.

Red leaked into Wyatt’s vision. “Get your fucking hands off her, or we’re going to have a problem.”

“Oh, really, GQ? What are you going to do?” He moved one hand off the wall and grabbed a knife from his waistband. “You going to choke me with your necktie?”

Kelsey’s gaze darted to Wyatt’s—but where he expected to see fear, he saw rage. He had only a split second to figure out she didn’t plan to stand by and let him handle things. “Kelsey, d—”

But before he got his words out, Kelsey jerked her knee upward, hitting the guy square in the nuts. The howl of pain echoed down the alley as the guy doubled over, and Kelsey ducked and juked left out of trajectory. Acting on pure adrenaline, Wyatt launched himself at the guy linebacker style, going straight for the arm wielding the knife, and slammed the guy’s hand against the wall. The knife clattered to the ground, but the guy swung at him with the other fist.

The punch landed against Wyatt’s jaw, almost knocking his glasses off his face, but the pain barely registered because the desire to maim, torture, and annihilate was burning like a bonfire in him. This scumbag had threatened Kelsey. Sweet, beautiful Kelsey. He grabbed the guy by the throat and smashed him against the wall again, using the extra inches of height he had on the guy to his full advantage. “You want to hit me again, asshole? Try it. Swing at me and give me a reason to choke you.”

Hyena’s eyes flooded with challenge. “Empty fucking threat. You know that bitch piece of ass isn’t worth getting a lifetime in jail.”

Wyatt’s grip tightened. He’d never thought himself capable of killing another person, but in that moment, he would’ve enjoyed ridding the world of this trash. He bared his teeth as he pressed just a little harder against the guy’s windpipe. “Oh, really? You’re going to count on that? I have lawyers so good that I could choke you right in the middle of the fucking restaurant and be lauded in the papers as a hero. So don’t. Fucking. Tempt. Me.”

The guy’s eyes bugged a bit at that, whether from the threat or the pressure on his throat, Wyatt didn’t care. Hyena wet his lips, and his voice came out hoarse. “Fine. Just let go, man.”

Police sirens wailed in the background, echoing against the buildings.

Wyatt eased the pressure and smiled. “I’ll be sure to do that. In a minute.”

The guy closed his eyes, sagging in Wyatt’s grip.

An hour and an ice pack later, Wyatt sat on the back steps outside the restaurant, watching as the last cop car pulled away. He’d asked them to make sure to not release details of the event. The last thing he needed was the press picking this up. His father would love that. Kelsey, who’d been standing at the end of the alley, turned around. She had her arms wrapped around herself and carried a hollow look in her eyes.

When she got close, he lowered the ice pack and saw the tears that shimmered in her eyes. “I am so sorry, Mr. Austin. Is it bad?”

He set the ice pack aside, pushed himself to stand, and dusted off his slacks. “Please, I think we’ve moved on to the stage where you can call me Wyatt. And I’m fine. I’m more worried about you. Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head and a thousand responses seemed to touch her lips in rapid time, her mouth twitching. But after a few too many failed attempts at speaking, she simply flung herself at him, stunning him with a hug. His arms went out to his sides as if they’d forgotten the proper response to being embraced, and he looked down his body at the woman he’d so often imagined touching.

“Thank you,” she whispered into his shirt.

God, she was warm. And her scent … Who’d have ever thought bacon and maple syrup could smell so goddamned perfect on a woman? The thought that anyone would want to harm her had his rage firing up anew.

Unable to hold back any longer, he gave into the urge and wrapped his arms around her, holding her against him as she let the adrenaline and the emotions drain out of her.

The back door of the restaurant cracked open, and the kid from the kitchen peeked out, concern weighing heavy on his boyish features. He’d come outside a few times to check on Kelsey, and Wyatt had instantly liked him. “You okay, baby girl?”

Kelsey stepped out of Wyatt’s embrace with an apologetic smile and swiped at her face. “I’m fine, Nathan. Thanks for checking on me. And for calling the cops.”

“I’ve only got an hour left on my shift. Want me to give you a ride home after?” Nathan asked, looking between her and Wyatt.

“I—”

“I’ve got her,” Wyatt said, cutting her off.

Kelsey’s head whipped around. “Mr. Au— Wyatt, you don’t have to do that.”

“You worked all night and you’ve had a hell of a morning. You don’t need to be waiting around here. I want you in bed.”

Nathan’s eyebrows disappeared beneath his shaggy bangs.

“Resting,” Wyatt clarified.

Kelsey actually gave him a half smile on that one, some of the color coming back into her cheeks. “Yes, sir.”

He should’ve told her to drop the sir. But for reasons he’d rather not examine at the moment, he wasn’t in a hurry to stop hearing that little gem roll off her lips.

He pressed his hand to the small of her back to lead her back up the stairs, reciting in his head: Too young. Too sweet. Too messy.

TWO

Kelsey stared out the side window of Wyatt’s BMW, trying to get her skin to stop crawling and her heart to stop its attempt to bust out of her chest. When Howie Miller had stepped into the restaurant, it was like being yanked back eighteen months—her life rewinding and then hitting the play button at the shittiest part.

Well, almost the shittiest part.

She’d been so careful. Had picked up and moved her whole life to a completely new area. She’d even registered her apartment and all her utilities under another name. And the cops had said they would never reveal that she’d been the informant. But the look in Howie’s eyes when he’d pushed her against the wall had said he knew exactly whose information had put his brother in jail. If Wyatt hadn’t followed her out there and distracted him … She didn’t even want to think about it. In that world, being a snitch was a capital offense. And Howie had looked more than ready to mete out her punishment.

Wyatt, who’d been quiet for the last few miles, glanced over at her. The lingering anger over what Howie had done hovered there in the tense lines of his face and his grip on the wheel. He looked as if he wanted to beat up the guy all over again. “What did that punk want with you? I’m guessing it wasn’t a random attack.”

“No, it wasn’t,” she said, turning back toward the window, wishing she didn’t have to have this conversation with Wyatt. Wyatt, who only knew her as the chatty waitress and his brother’s friend. Nothing else. None of the ugly stuff. She’d hoped it could remain that way.

“Was he an ex or something?”

She grimaced, the idea making her stomach turn. “God, no.”

Wyatt blew out a breath like that was the best news he’d heard all day. “Then what?”

She glanced down at her hands, fiddling with the silver bracelet she’d treated herself to when she’d celebrated her first year sober. That day had felt like such a fresh start, like a new life was there for the taking. But apparently the dregs of her past were determined to stir up and muddy everything again. “I helped put his brother in jail a while back. He wasn’t supposed to know it was me, but I guess he figured it out and was coming to pay me back.”

“Christ,” he said under his breath as he took the turn toward her apartment complex. “Thank God he’s going to be behind bars now, too.”

“Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts,” she said dryly.

Wyatt flexed his fingers against the steering wheel again, those big, beautiful hands of his knotted with tension. “You need to file a restraining order on him when you get home. Just to be safe.”

She had to fight back the scoff that wanted to jump out of her throat. Restraining orders were worth about as much as the ink used to sign them. In her experience, they usually just served to instigate the person further—like waving a flag at a crazed bull. “Sure. Will do. My building’s the one there on the right.”

“You’re humoring me,” he said, displeasure coloring his tone as he swung the car into a parking space.

“I’m sorry,” she said, letting her head fall back against the seat, exhaustion setting in now that the adrenaline had left her system. How long had it been since she’d slept? She couldn’t quite remember. “I’m not trying to be flip. I just—everything was going so well and now I have this to deal with. I want to throttle that asshole.” She opened her eyes, staring forward. “Is it supposed to be this hard to live a drama-free life?”

She caught his smirk in her peripheral vision. “Some people would call drama-free boring.”

She turned her head toward him. “Boring sounds amazing.”

He smiled fully now. His jaw was still a little swollen from the punch, but that didn’t reduce the impact of the expression. God, he was gorgeous when he let that grin slip through, lighting up all those dark features and revealing the dimples hidden beneath. He smiled so infrequently that it felt like a gift each time it happened, like she’d won some secret contest.

She stayed where she was, enjoying the close-up view of him too much to look away. But in the small space of the car, the ocean blue of his eyes darkened behind his glasses the longer she sat there, his humor morphing into something decidedly more intense. Heat seeped through her in a slow roll, the playful fantasizing about her fictional boyfriend becoming more of a desperate itch for the real thing.

Wyatt reached out, his large palm cradling the side of her face. “You’re too young and too sweet to have so much history in those eyes.”

She wet her lips, her cheek tingling beneath his touch. “I’m not that young, Wyatt. Or that sweet.”

He stared at her, that blue gaze boring into her with the precision of surgeon’s knife, and she thought he was going to lean over and kiss her. She wanted him to. Even though she knew it was a ridiculously bad idea, knew that the minute she crossed that boundary with him, she’d be just another woman he’d bedded. She was well aware of the score with guys like him. Had tripped down that path a few too many times in the past. Wealthy men didn’t date women like her—they entertained themselves with them.

But all Wyatt did was brush a thumb over her mouth, swiping the moisture she’d left there, and then lowered his hand with a softly expelled breath. “Come on. I’ll walk you up. You need rest.”

She blinked, the loss of his touch like a cold wind against her face, and tried to drag herself back to reality. “Oh. Um, don’t worry about that. I’ll be fine.”

But he was already opening his door. “I’ll feel better if I see you safely inside. I rarely get the opportunity to feel chivalrous.”

She laughed, breaking some of the tension that’d been thrumming through her body from the imagined almost kiss, and pushed her door open to climb out. “Is there a white horse to ride up the stairs?”

“Nah, he’s in the shop.” He offered a little bow and a bent elbow. “Will my arm suffice, fair lady?”

She tilted her chin up in her best imitation of haughtiness. “I guess that will do.”

He smiled and took her hand, linking it around his arm. “Lead the way.”

If Wyatt had any opinions about her modest apartment complex and its peeling paint or sagging stairs, he kept the judgment off his face. She knew he’d probably never spent a night in anything with less than five-star accommodations, but she wasn’t going to bother being embarrassed about where she lived. She’d worked hard to get her own place on the decent side of town and even if it wasn’t much, it was hers.

She guided him to her door and reluctantly released herself from his hold to slide the key into the lock. There was a note taped above the doorknob, and she suspected it was the landlord telling her rent was a day overdue. She grabbed it and turned the knob, stepping inside.

She expected Wyatt to follow, but when she turned around, she found him leaning against the doorjamb like a vampire who needed permission to cross the threshold. “You can come in if you want.”

His mouth lifted at the corner. “Probably better I don’t. Leaving the car was hard enough.”

So she hadn’t imagined the almost kiss. She set her purse down on the breakfast bar, debating whether or not to push the issue. Even nudging a toe down this road was a bad idea. But she couldn’t help herself. The question that had been hovering in her mind ever since that first week he’d started coming to the restaurant spilled out. “Why do you come to the cafe every morning? Jace told me where your building is. It’s not convenient.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Because I like you.”

She absorbed that for a second, the matter-of-fact way he said it. The answer didn’t shock her exactly. He wasn’t one of those guys to throw lines at her and shamelessly flirt, but she could tell when he looked at her that he wasn’t just concerned about getting her attention for a coffee refill. However, mixed in with that subtle interest, she always sensed some underlying layer of distance. Like he was watching her from the other side of bulletproof glass. “So why didn’t you kiss me in the car?”

He pushed himself off the doorframe and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Same reason.”

“Right.” At least he was honest. Message, loud and clear. If they slept together, she would never seen him again. “You don’t date.”

“No, I don’t. Not very dateable, I’m afraid.”

“Sure, with the good looks, your own company, and the penchant to save waitresses in dark alleys, women must run away in horror,” she teased. “Come on, you know you could have your own season of The Bachelor and fill Texas Stadium with the contestant casting call.”

His curving lips had an edge of resignation to them this time. “Women like me on paper. But the reality isn’t as bearable. I work from seven in the morning to past ten most nights. I’m a control freak in all aspects of my life. And my social graces leave a lot to be desired.”

“Meaning, you can be an asshole.”

He shrugged, unapologetic. “My tolerance for others is limited.”

She had already gathered that about him. The glare he’d sent that customer who’d interrupted them today could’ve bent the silverware. “Yet you visit me every morning.”

“You’re exceptionally tolerable,” he said, stepping inside finally and picking up the note that must have fallen to the floor when she’d set her purse down.

His comment and having him only a pace away from her—in her apartment, alone—had her thoughts disintegrating for a moment. To stop herself from moving even closer and embarrassing herself, she went for the safety of humor. She tilted her head and batted her eyelashes in her best southern belle impression. “Oh, Mr. Austin, you say the sweetest things. You should write poetry.”

He chuckled and handed her the paper, his hand lingering against her fingers for a few extra seconds. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ms. LeBreck. Try to stay out of trouble until then.”

“Will do my best.” The loss of the skin-to-skin contact left her feeling even more alone than she had a minute before. She looked down, unfolding the paper in her hand to have something to do besides grabbing the lapels of his jacket and taking the kiss for herself. “Thanks again for everything today. I’m really sorry you had to get inv—”

Her words stuck in her throat like a wad of taffy as she stared down at the drawing on the page—a very familiar, distinctive D.

“Kelsey?” Wyatt’s voice filled with concern. When she didn’t respond, he came toward her. “What’s wrong? You’ve gone white.”

She closed her eyes, a wave of nausea and raging anger rolling through her. A firm hand grabbed her elbow, steadying her. She took in a deep breath through her nose, trying to keep the temptation to lose her shit at bay. She’d been here before. She could handle it.

Of course, before she could’ve taken a shot of whiskey and smoked a cigarette. But neither of those options were available anymore. This time she was on her own in every way.

“He came here first,” she said, her voice sounding flat.

Wyatt took the paper from her fingertips. “Who? Miller?”

She nodded, trying to regain her internal composure so that Wyatt didn’t notice how she was running around and screaming on the inside. “I need to get out of here.”

“Wait, what?” Wyatt asked as she pulled away from him.

“Miller’s part of a much bigger operation—the D-Town Players.” She headed toward the closet on the far side of the living room and yanked it open, a plan trying to form in her swirling brain. How long had they been standing here talking? What if someone was already heading this way? Where the fuck was her suitcase? “That note is letting me know they know where I live.”

“Fuck, Kelsey,” Wyatt said, lines deepening around his mouth. “How involved is this? Is it some sort of street gang?”

She shook her head, squatting down to move a few boxes at the bottom of the closet. “They’re much more organized than that. I don’t exactly know how big it is. I was never privy to that.” She dragged her overnight bag out of the back corner and turned around. “I just … dated some prick who was a drug runner for them back when I was too stupid to know better.”

She watched the distaste cross Wyatt’s face, and her heart died a little. One of the things she loved most about her brief times with Wyatt was how he looked at her like she really was the sweet, innocent thing he believed her to be. Like she was something precious and fragile. Unlike everyone else she knew, he hadn’t looked at her through the filter of her past and all the mistakes she’d made when she was using. Or through the even darker glass of being a victim. Only a handful of people knew what she’d endured at the hands of her mother’s murderer last year. But once someone knew, that was all the person saw—assault victim. Now streaks of that ugliness were tainting the bright little bubble of space between her and Wyatt.

“Where are you going to go?” he asked, shutting the front door behind him and bolting it. “My company has corporate apartments we rent. You can stay in one of those if you need a place.”

She shook her head. The last thing she wanted was some handout. “Thanks, I appreciate it, but I can stay at my sister and her fiancé’s place.”

That was a lie. She wasn’t going to put Brynn and Reid at risk on her behalf. Not again. Reid had taken a bullet the last time he’d rescued Kelsey, and her sister had almost ended up dead. But Kelsey couldn’t tell Wyatt where she was really heading. He’d already found out enough of her secrets today. The last thing he needed to know was what she did as her night job.

Wyatt frowned, obviously not thrilled with that plan, but he nodded. “Pack your bag, and I’ll drive you.”

“I have a car downstairs. I just take the bus some days to work to save money on gas.”

“Then I’ll follow you there to make sure you’re safe.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but what was the point? In truth, having someone watch her back as she left the apartment wasn’t a bad thing. The D-Towners were probably just trying to scare her, but she also knew they were capable of a lot worse than that, so she wasn’t going to take any chances. “Thanks. Guess you probably shouldn’t have stuck around for that muffin today. You’d be tucked safely in your office by now none the wiser, making people their millions.”

He shook his head. “Best decision I’ve made in a long time. The millions will still be there tomorrow.”

And now, because of him, she would still be around, too. “Thank you, Wyatt. Really. I’m so—”

He held up a hand. “If you apologize one more time for something that is absolutely not your fault, you’re going to see my mean side.”

The threat shouldn’t have sent a hot shiver through her, but it did. The image of the quietly intense executive losing some of that nothing-phases-me exterior called to her in a way she couldn’t even define. The feeling was foreign, frightening. The fact that he’d shut down the possibility of them sleeping together was probably a very, very good thing, even if her hormones hadn’t quite jumped on board with that plan yet. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

“I’ll be here.” Wyatt sat down on her loveseat, pulled out his cell phone, and started scanning through emails as if he’d wait forever if that was how long she needed.

She stood there watching him for a few moments longer than necessary, knowing that this would probably be the last time she’d have him this close. Sure, she’d be able to hide out for a few weeks, but this wasn’t going to go away anytime soon. She’d thought she’d escaped undetected the last time, but clearly they’d discovered the role she’d played in Raymond Miller’s downfall. And if D-Town was determined to hurt her, she wasn’t going to be safe anywhere near their territory.

She let out a long breath and turned her back, heading toward her bedroom. Wyatt didn’t know it, but their fictional love affair was about to come to a quick and quiet end.

Because she was going to have to leave her life here in Dallas.

And leave him.

THREE

Wyatt leaned back in his desk chair, scanning the report on his computer screen and only half-listening to his father prattle on. Wyatt didn’t have the patience for a Bill Austin lecture on a good day, much less this morning. After showing up at the Sugarcane Cafe for the second week in a row to find no Kelsey, Wyatt had left with heartburn and a bloodstream full of frustration.

Her co-worker, Nathan, had been like a fucking Navy SEAL with his ability to withstand interrogation. Wyatt had prodded the guy up one way and down the other trying to get information about Kelsey, even offering to pay Nathan for the information. But all the cook would reveal was that she was safe and that he didn’t know where she was, which was bullshit of course. That kid knew exactly where she was.

He admired the guy for being protective of his friend, but the not knowing was like a thorn burrowing into Wyatt’s brain. The whole situation was out of his control and that was completely unacceptable. He hadn’t been able to concentrate for shit since he’d last seen her. He’d even driven by her sister’s house like some lame stalker to see if her car was there. It wasn’t. And when he’d knocked on the door to the house, no one had been home.

Then this morning he’d come in to find a message from the cop who’d handled the alley incident, letting Wyatt know that the asshole had made bail. Kelsey’s attacker was out there, roaming the streets like nothing had fucking happened. Our brilliant legal system at its best.

“Wyatt, you were supposed to handle this,” his father barked. “You can’t just say no to big-time clients because you feel like it.”

He huffed his annoyance. “I was busy this weekend. And I don’t eat deer, so why would I waste time shooting one?”

His father made that frustrated noise of his, like the hiss of trapped steam leaking out of a pipe. “Wyatt, you—it isn’t about the deer. You know that.”

Wyatt minimized the screen and turned toward his father, bored with this conversation already. He had bigger things to worry about than some self-important client getting his pride hurt over a declined invitation. “I bet the deer would beg to differ.”

His dad’s palm landed on top of the desk, a soft smack but pointed nonetheless. “This isn’t a joke.”

Wyatt closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. “Didn’t say it was.”

His father tugged at his necktie and tightened it again, obviously trying to regain his trademark Bill Austin composure. “Dirk Billings wants to trust the guy handling his fortune. He wants to feel connected to him. Like buddies.”

“And sitting for hours in a wooden box with guns and cheap beer to shoot something I don’t even eat is going to accomplish this?” Wyatt shook his head and straightened the papers on his desk. “If he wants trust, he needs to look at my record and talk to my other clients. If he wants to feel connected, I’m more than happy to schedule regular phone calls or meetings to go over his portfolio. I spent last weekend analyzing the numbers from last quarter. We have some quirks in there that don’t make sense. That’s what I needed to spend my time on. Not hanging out in the woods doing tick checks with a windbag.”

The thought of being caught in a deer stand, making chitchat with a guy who thought the South should’ve won, was Wyatt’s personal version of hell. He’d end up turning the gun on his client instead of the wildlife. That wouldn’t be good for the company image.

His father’s skin went ruddy, his hold on his anger obviously dwindling. “Ignoring this part of the business is not going to work anymore, son. Merrill and Mead are giving that level of personal service to their clients. They’re stealing them away from us with good ol’ boy wining and dining. Or golfing and hunting as the case may be. Those imbeciles don’t have anything on you when it comes to the financials, but if you don’t learn how to play the nicey-nice game, we’re going to keep losing big fish. You want that jerk you graduated with to woo away all of our clients?”

Wyatt’s jaw clenched at that thought. Tony Merrill had been an arrogant prick in graduate school, and time had only seemed to enhance those attributes. Wyatt had received a jovial email a few months earlier from Tony thanking him for sending over one of his best clients. Jerkoff. “When their net worth starts going down because Tony doesn’t know his ass from an alligator, they’ll return.”

“They’re not coming back, Wyatt,” his father said quietly. Too quietly. Wyatt had feared that lethal tone when he was a kid. It usually meant fire and brimstone were coming.

“Don’t panic, Dad.” Wyatt turned back to his computer to click open the next page in the report. “You’ve got the Carmichael retreat at the end of the month. And you always come back with new clients from that. You handle the ass kissing and spouse charming, and I’ll keep their business here with the results I can get them.”

His father shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “I’m not going to be able to attend the retreat this year.”

Wyatt’s hand stilled against his mouse, and he spun his chair back toward his father. That retreat was a must. Business leaders killed to get invitations to the exclusive trip put on each year by real estate tycoon Edward Carmichael. On the surface, it was billed as a relax and unwind trip for executives and their spouses. But that casual, guards-down atmosphere was where deals were made and partnerships were formed. “What are you talking about? That retreat was responsible for three of our biggest new clients last year.”

“Your mother has threatened divorce. So we’re going to a thing,” he said, giving a near imperceptible shrug.

Wyatt stared at him, the words not quite making sense at first. Divorce? His parents had never had what anyone would call a loving relationship. His dad wasn’t an easy man to live with and had cheated more than once. But he and his mom had always seemed to have a mutual agreement to stay together—like a polite business arrangement. “A thing?”

“Some counseling vacation.” He scoffed and tightened his tie again. “As if that could be called a vacation. All that touchy-feely hippie bullshit. But she’s going to leave me if I don’t go with her.”

“Jesus, Dad.”

His father waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t start the pity party. It’ll be fine. I think your mother just had some white light moment when she had that heart attack and is getting loopy on me. We’ll do this, I’ll buy her something nice, and we’ll move on. We always do.”

Not with that attitude. But Wyatt kept the comment to himself. If his mom wanted to make a run at a happier life, he wasn’t going to begrudge her that.

“Which is why I’m going to need you to handle the retreat and not fuck it up.”

Wyatt was still reeling from the previous news, but of course his father wasn’t going to linger on anything non-business related for long. “Me? I can’t go on the retreat. Who’s going to handle things here why you’re out? I’ll just cancel it this year. Carmichael will understand.”

A muscle twitched in his father’s jowl. “No. He won’t. We’ll be cut right off the guest list for the future. I’ve been working on getting that family’s accounts for years and I’m this close. One rebuff and it’s gone. Plus, Tony Merrill will be there. If we cancel, we may as well hand our clients over to him with a bow around their necks.”

Wyatt leaned back in his chair, rubbing his head, the thought of attending a Carmichael retreat curling dread in his stomach. Wyatt had never been, but he knew it wasn’t anything like the business conferences he attended. This was a schmoozing trip. No workshops, no meetings, it was all about rubbing elbows and kissing ass.

And Wyatt didn’t kiss ass.

“I’m not going on some trip to tell people how fucking fantastic they are. I’m not a salesman.”

“You will, and you better become one fast.” His dad pinned Wyatt with a hard look. “You are supposed to step into my shoes when I retire. But if I dropped dead tomorrow, you’d be woefully unequipped.”

Wyatt could only stare back at him. “Unequipped? What with the doctorate, the decade of experience, and a record that could lap anyone else here?”

“If this business was one hundred percent numbers, no one could even attempt to challenge you. Not even me. You’re brilliant, Wyatt. But half the job of being a CEO is selling yourself, the image of the company, and generating new business. It’s politics. For people to trust you with their money, they have to want to work with you, to like you.”

Wyatt clenched his teeth, having flashbacks from his high school years. He’d won a lot of awards, but the popularity contest was one he’d never had a shot in.

“You need to show me you’re capable with this part of the business. Otherwise, you’re starting to make me wonder if you’re the right person to take over the top spot when I step down.”

Wyatt’s fingers dug into the arms of his chair, cool steel in his voice. “Excuse me?”

That position had been decided since Wyatt’s first IQ test in grade school. Like an Olympic athlete, his whole life had centered around getting groomed and trained for this role, especially after his father had realized that his other son, Jace, had absolutely no interest in taking over the family business.

Wyatt thought of all the things he’d turned down, walked away from, or not tried because he was on this path. Because he was the “good” son, the heir apparent. All the hours and blood and sweat he put into this company. Now that role was up the air?

“My first responsibility is to this company,” his father said curtly. “You know I’ve never given you anything simply because we share DNA. You’ve earned everything you’ve gotten so far. But now you need to earn this. If I don’t think you’re the best candidate, I won’t hesitate to give it to someone else. Eric has been in line for it for years and has as much experience as you do.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Look at my face,” his dad said, using the same words he used to say to Wyatt when he was a child. “Does this look like my kidding face?”

Wyatt made a sound of disgust. “You’re a cold-hearted sonofabitch sometimes.”

“I am. That’s what gives me my edge, son. If I made decisions based on emotions, you’d have grown up in some shithole in the suburbs. This is a weakness of yours, and my future CEO can’t afford weaknesses.”

“I got it,” he snapped, bitterness leaking into his words.

“Good.” His father pulled a paper from the inner pocket of his jacket and laid it on Wyatt’s desk. “That’s a list of people going whose business we want to acquire. Do whatever it takes to get them.”

Wyatt unfolded the paper and scanned the neat list of typed names. Some of the biggest players out there were listed of course. His father always aimed for the outfield. But Wyatt’s gaze snagged on the name at the bottom of the page. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Andrew Carmichael? If you think I’m going to go kiss Andrew’s ass, you have an—”

“He’s the biggest fish on that list now. Ed’s health has been in the shitter lately, and he’s handed over lots of responsibility to Andrew, including this year’s retreat. Retirement is probably inevitable within the year. So you need to work the son. And you two used to be friends. Use that.” His father straightened his coat.

“Friends? That’s quite a revisionist history there, Dad.” The guy had made grade school painful and high school a fucking nightmare.

“Come on. You can’t still be hung up on stuff that happened so long ago. So he liked to pick on you. He was just threatened because you were smarter than him and got more attention.”

Wyatt gritted his teeth. Childhood teasing he could’ve forgiven, but Andrew had upped the ante when they hit high school. When Wyatt had been chosen for a prestigious scholarship over Andrew, the bastard had retaliated by getting Wyatt’s longtime girlfriend tipsy at an after-prom party and then fucking away her virginity on Wyatt’s bed, making sure Wyatt walked in at just the right moment. Wyatt’s one and only fist fight had ended with a naked Andrew knocked out in the middle of the hallway.

“I want him on our roster.”

“There are other big players we can go after. We don’t need him.”

“We do and you’re going to get him.” His father stood and pulled out an envelope. He dropped it onto the desk. “Nancy in travel has already changed mine and your mother’s reservations into your name. You need to let Nancy know who you’re bringing with you.”

Wyatt picked up the envelope and looked at his father. “Who I’m bringing?”

“This is a plus-one trip. Most of the events are for couples, so don’t be the asshole who shows up solo. And for God’s sake, don’t bring that woman you brought to the charity ball. She had about as much personality as a shoehorn. You need someone who isn’t going to be afraid to mingle and flirt. The prettier your date, the more the other guys will be interested in hanging around you two.”

Oh, this was getting better and better. What was he supposed to do, call up the rent-a-girlfriend-for-a-week service? He worked fifteen-hour days and most weekends. Like he’d told Kelsey, dating didn’t exactly fit into that schedule. He’d had a colleagues-with-benefits thing going for a while with a woman who worked in the building next door, but they’d stopped their Saturday night meet-ups a while back when she’d decided she needed more and had laid out an ultimatum for him. He didn’t do ultimatums.

But regardless of his father’s opinion, he would’ve been faced with the issue anyway. Because there was no way he was going to show up to this thing and face Andrew without some knockout on his arm. It was petty, but he didn’t fucking care. “I’ll figure it out.”

“That’s what I want to hear. Get to planning, son. You leave in a week.” And with that, his father headed out of Wyatt’s office, riding that high horse he so loved to be on.

Wyatt leaned his head back on his chair, tipped his glasses up, and ran a hand over his face. Part of him wondered what would happen if he stood up and walked out. Quit. The fact that his father would even consider giving someone else the CEO position was enough to tempt him to do so. He had enough money to live whatever the hell kind of life he wanted. He didn’t need to be here.

But even the thought sent a gash of loss through him. He loved his job and fed on the play of numbers, on the win of making the right decisions, on the high of knowing he had the answers where others couldn’t see them. This was his life.

If he walked away, what would be left? He didn’t even know who he was outside of this place.

No, he needed to figure this shit out. The socializing aspect of business had always been his Achilles’ heel, but it wasn’t an unlearnable skill. At least he hoped it wasn’t. He could figure out how to play the game. And if he had a beautiful woman with him who did have some social finesse, all the better.

And he had just the woman in mind.

That is, if he could fucking find her.

Wyatt picked up his phone and hit the speed dial.

“A call in the middle of a work day from the suit? Is the building on fire? Have zombies taken over the city?” his brother, Jace, asked, grin evident even over the phone.

“Is there such a thing as a work day for you?” Wyatt lobbed back. “Or do you just sit around while your staff waves you with giant fans?”

“Hmm, there’s a thought,” Jace said, something squeaking in the background. “I’m actually working very hard trying to get the lighting right on a display of high-end glass dildos. Important stuff.”

“Clearly.”

Jace chuckled. “So what’s going on? I know you didn’t call to shoot the shit.”

“How do you know that?”

“Come on, Wy.”

Wyatt frowned. Was he really that bad at the social thing? Even with his brother? Probably. Yes. “Remember back when I helped you out with the Diana situation, and you said you owed me?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I’m ready to take you up on that.”

“Name it, brother. If it’s in my power, I’ll do it.”

“I need you to help me find Kelsey LeBreck.”

FOUR

Kelsey stared down at the sweat-glazed back of Hawk Nichols as he sucked in a deep breath, bracing for her next blow. She strolled around to stand in front of his prone form, making sure he heard her boots clicking deliberately along the cement floor of the dungeon room. She’d strapped him down on all fours along a padded spanking bench about half an hour ago, and he was already flying high. Keeping the braided leather cat in her right hand, she touched Hawk’s fingers with her left. They flinched slightly, still warm. Circulation was good.

She had to watch it with this kid. The twenty year old was the star receiver on his college football team, so pain was part of his daily existence. And he craved the edge of being under her hand, the place the pain would bring him. But she couldn’t trust him to call his safe word if she went too far. Once he slipped into subspace, the bulky athlete was as vulnerable as a kitten. She ran a hand over his damp hair, and he nuzzled her palm and moaned—the simple touch her reward to him for taking so much.

“You still with me, sub?”

“Yes, Mistress. Please,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Please.”

She knew what he was begging for. Her flogging hadn’t gone to the intense place he needed yet. He was still hovering on the precipice, waiting to lose himself to it all. “You’ve done well tonight, sub. You know you’ll be rewarded.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” His fists flexed and released, flexed and released, the need quivering off him. His cock hung heavy and hard between his spread thighs despite the boot laces she’d used to bind his scrotum and the base of his penis, and she knew he had to be desperate for relief by now.

She ran her fingers along his spine as she made her way around him. He really was a beautiful guy, though still a little lost. They were only separated by a few years in age, but she felt lifetimes older. Hawk had this unvarnished innocence that she doubted many had seen. Big and intimidating in looks, most people probably gave him wide berth and never looked deeper. But he was as gentle a soul as she’d ever met. A gentle soul who craved a bit of brutality.

His father, of all people, had dragged Hawk into The Ranch a few months ago when he’d discovered his son had been burning himself with candle wax while masturbating. One night, Hawk had used the wrong type of candles and had used them too close to his skin. He’d ended up with second-degree burns in hard-to-explain places, and his father had dragged the information out of him.

Most parents would’ve probably hauled the kid into a therapist, thinking he was sick and self-harming. But Hawk’s father had been part of the scene in his past and, after talking with his son, had recognized Hawk’s behavior for what it was. He’d made the kid promise that if he took him to a place where he could get what he needed that he’d never play like that alone again. The next week he’d brought Hawk to The Ranch and had plunked down the hefty membership and session fees without a blink.

Ever since, Hawk had been a weekly client for Kelsey, and she’d grown quite fond of him. Though, her heart still broke a little each time she saw the guarded look in his eyes. She knew that besides his father knowing, this was a big secret for Hawk. Even his girlfriend, who he seemed to adore, didn’t know. Kelsey knew what it was like to keep those heavy secrets and wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

But she couldn’t fix that for him. She didn’t have that kind of power. But she could at least give him this. She released Hawk’s right hand from the leather cuff and drizzled warmed lubricant into his palm, then she squared herself up behind him, her heart picking up speed beneath the laces of her corset. She reached down and removed the bindings from the base of his cock. “You have permission to touch yourself, sub. But you’re not allowed to come until you’ve taken all ten of my strokes. You understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, his voice now shaking with anticipation.

Kelsey took a steadying breath. This was always the hardest part for her. She enjoyed the power and rush of being a top, but unlike many of her fellow doms, sadism wasn’t in her blood. She didn’t derive pleasure in giving pain for pain’s sake. She administered the pain because it was her job, and her satisfaction came from giving a sub what he or she needed. And for Hawk, seeing him let go for a few moments, getting some catharsis, would make it worth it.

She raised her arm high and then, using all her strength, lashed Hawk’s backside with the cat. The braided leather strips striped along his back and buttocks, the sound of leather meeting flesh filling the cavernous space and mixing with the thudding rock music she’d put on in the background. Hawk tried to rear up, the bench rattling a bit from his brute strength, and he moaned loud and long. His fist slid harshly up and down his cock as she landed the next blow.

She worked him hard over the next few minutes, her arm aching from the exertion and her skin going damp and prickly. Hawk jerked and writhed in his bindings, a caged beast on the verge of losing his fight for control. But the sounds he made were pure ecstasy, the intense pain launching him to that plane of nothingness he craved.

Kelsey landed the last hit and watched in fascination as her sub exploded at the precise moment she’d ordered, his body going stiff, his hips thrusting forward, and his release spilling over his fist as he fucked his hand. A man lost to himself and to the world for a few exquisite seconds. Freedom.

Beautiful.

For some ridiculous reason, she had the urge to cry. She dropped the cat to the floor and sank against the wall, sliding to a sit, exhaustion sapping her. She knew she should stay on her feet, stay in the position of power, but he couldn’t see behind him, so he’d never know. She pulled her knees to her chest, her body throbbing and aching with unmet need, but not for Hawk. She never slept with her clients. She didn’t even allow them to touch her. But seeing the intensity of another reach their sexual bliss often left her craving her own.

And tonight there was something even uglier pressing at her. Jealousy.

It wasn’t an emotion a domme should feel toward her sub. She was supposed to gain her satisfaction from his submission. And Hawk had submitted beautifully tonight. But as she watched Hawk lying there bound, breathing hard, and blissed out, she felt the ugly emotion creep up.

“Lady K?” he whispered after a few quiet minutes, snapping her from her souring state.

“Yes.” She pushed herself to her feet, turned down the music, and started unfastening the rest of his bindings. “You okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “I was just wondering, how long before the marks go away?”

She frowned and ran a gentle hand along the angry red stripes on his back. “You know I wouldn’t leave you with anything long lasting, sweetheart. I’ll never betray the contract we set up at the beginning. Do you need me to stop leaving even temporary ones? There are other things I can do that won’t leave any evidence.”

“No, please don’t stop,” he said quickly. He turned his head to find her, his eyes still a little glazed and his hair flopping over his forehead. “I like seeing the marks. Sometimes … sometimes I jerk off again later after a session while I look at the markings in the mirror.” His face flushed at the admission. “But I’m … I’m going to see my girl tomorrow night.”

Kelsey sighed. “Sit up for me, Hawk.”

He followed her directions, and she handed him a towel to clean himself up and another to drape over himself.

Once he was covered and seemed to be coming back into his head, she asked, “Is this girl important to you?”

He kept his eyes down as he cleaned the evidence of what had just happened off his hand and thigh, shame obviously creeping in. Kelsey hated that, hated that he was still struggling so much with this part of himself, that the beast of guilt was such a relentless one. She wished she could just snap her fingers and take that hurt away from him. But she knew that road was going to be a long one for him.

“Yes, ma’am. I think I love her.”

She sat down on one of the chairs by the wall and braced her forearms on her fishnet-covered thighs. “Look, hon, I know you’re hoping I can beat this out of you, but that’s not how it works. You need to consider that these desires may not go away.”

His head dipped and his blond hair fell farther down his forehead, shielding his eyes.

“And I know there are people who manage to walk both sides of the line.” Like me. “But living a double life is not a fun option. Have you ever considered talking to your girlfriend about this? Feeling her out? You never know, she may be open to it.”

He snorted and shook his head. “Christina is majoring in elementary education and barely even curses. We didn’t sleep together until after we’d dated for six months. She’s sweet and innocent and … she’d be repulsed by me if she knew.”

“Maybe you’re not giving her enough credit,” Kelsey said gently.

He hauled himself to his feet and walked over to the hooks he’d hung his clothes on. He pulled on his boxers and jeans, then gingerly eased his Got Beer? T-shirt over his head, wincing when the material hit his back. “No disrespect, Lady K. But you don’t understand. You live in this world. I don’t. I won’t. I want a normal life with a normal girl.”

Kelsey tried to keep her expression placid, though the implication stung like little pieces of glass in her skin. I don’t want to be a freak like you. “I see.”

Hawk halted, his face falling, then he was crossing the room, getting to his knees at her feet. “I’m so sorry, Mistress. That … that didn’t come out right. I say stupid shit sometimes.” His expression turned earnest. “You know how thankful I am for what you do. I would never—”

“Shh,” she said, caressing his hair. He instinctively lowered his head and gave her invitation to stroke him. She knew Hawk hadn’t meant it to insult her. He was scared. And frankly, he was right. She didn’t have a normal life and never would. This week had been proof positive of that. She couldn’t even maintain an imaginary “normal” relationship without it getting fucked up. “It’s okay. And you’re right, I’m the last person who should be handing out relationship advice. I suck at them.”

Hawk lifted his head, his eyes a little wide. Probably because it was the first piece of personal information she’d ever shared with him—or any client for that matter. She was usually good at keeping the boundaries clear when not in a scene. “Is it because of this? What you do?”

She smiled. If only it were that simple. “No, hon. Not because of this.”

His lips parted as if he was going to ask more questions, but her look must’ve warned him off. He gave a little nod, bent all the way to the floor to kiss the top of her boot, then rose to his feet. “Thank you for tonight, Mistress.”

“My pleasure, Hawk.”

He gave her a shy smile, then before walking out the door he pulled something from his pocket and set it on the table by the door. Money.

A tip.

Even after all that happened this week, the simple gesture gutted her, cut right through her, letting everything spill out. She’d tried to have a real conversation with someone, and he’d paid her for it.

She didn’t know what was more depressing—the blatant reminder that she was only a hired hand or the fact that she couldn’t afford to turn down the cash. She leaned her head against the wall and tapped lightly.

But she wasn’t left alone in her ruminating for long. The door squeaked open a few seconds later and Marc, one of the managers, poked his head in. “Hey, Kelsey. Grant said to send you up when you were done with your session. He set aside a few minutes to talk to you.”

She blew out a breath and nodded. She’d made a request earlier to talk to her boss, but she hadn’t expected him to free up time so quickly. She wasn’t exactly looking forward to the conversation, but hopefully, this would solve her immediate problem. “Thanks. I’ll be right up.”

Kelsey sat in the cozy waiting area outside the office of Grant Waters, owner and operator of The Ranch, and tried to keep her nerves in check. She’d worked part time at the BDSM resort for the last six months and had experienced nothing but great interactions with Grant, but she still couldn’t stop her knee from bumping up and down. The man was downright intimidating, and she knew what she was about to ask was outside the rules.

A few minutes later, the door on the other side of the room opened and filled with the impressive outline of the tall cowboy. His girlfriend, Charli, stepped out from behind him, a little flushed-faced and sending an apologetic smile in Kelsey’s direction before turning back to Grant. She pushed up on her toes and gave him a quick kiss. “We’ll finish this … discussion later?”

“Count on it, freckles,” he said, tugging one of her red locks, his adoration for Charli like rays of warmth beaming off him. “Meet me in the barn when you get home from work.”

“You got it, cowboy.” A visible shudder went through Charli, giving Kelsey a good idea of what the barn would entail. Grant wasn’t considered the Master of The Ranch for nothing. He hadn’t played publicly since he’d gotten together with Charli, but Kelsey had heard stories of how intense of a dominant Grant could be.

And though she had a fair dose of jealousy over the couple in love, Kelsey couldn’t help but smile for them. She’d met Charli when Charli had first come to The Ranch and had liked her instantly. And she knew both Charli and Grant had gone through a lot to get to this point.

When Charli turned around, she headed Kelsey’s way and gave her a quick hug. “Hey, gorgeous, haven’t seen you around in a while. We should grab dinner soon.”

Kelsey returned the hug, standing up in the process. “Definitely. Give me a call.”

Charli gave her one last pat on the arm and headed out, leaving Kelsey with Grant. That alone was a testament to how strong of a relationship the two had. How many women would leave their guy alone with a chick in thigh-high boots and a corset?

Grant nodded in Kelsey’s direction. “Come on in, Kelsey. Marc said you wanted to chat.”

“Yes, sir.” She followed Grant into his office, the warm woods and stone of the room matching the rustic feel of the rest of the resort, and sat in the chair across from his desk. “I had a few questions about my position.”

He settled in his large chair and adjusted the blinds behind him so that there wouldn’t be a glare on her face. “Sure. Shoot.”

She clasped her hands in her lap, trying to keep herself from fidgeting. “Some things have come up in town again, and I think the only way out of them is going to be to move away for a while.”

His dark eyebrows lifted. “What kind of trouble, Kelsey? If you’re struggling with your sobriety, there are things …”

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” she said, her words rushing out. “This is old trouble that won’t seem to go away. I think I just need to cut my losses and start over somewhere else. But I need to have more of a nest egg to do that. I thought maybe I could start taking on a few trainees to earn some extra money.”

Grant frowned and leaned back in his chair, considering her in a way that made her want to bow her head. “The requirements for my trainers are very clear. Both sides of training are required. And you haven’t done the submissive part yet. Believe me, I understand why you haven’t been able to do that portion. After what happened to you last year, I can only imagine how frightening that could be. I wouldn’t want anything to trigger those memories for you. But it wouldn’t be fair or safe to make an exception. I need my trainers to understand and experience both sides firsthand.”

“Right.” She looked down at her hands, not surprised by the answer but disappointed. She’d tried to do the thirty-day submissive immersion twice now because being a trainer was more lucrative than being a part-time domme like she was now. But each time the day to start had gotten close, she’d cancelled at the last moment. And she hated that. Hated that her attacker still held any power over her at all. Davis hadn’t been a dominant, he’d been a sociopath and rapist who’d held her against her will, beat her mercilessly, and tortured her for the three days he’d had her. She obviously knew that wasn’t what submission entailed. Yet, she still hadn’t been able to take that step with anyone.

Grant sighed and leaned forward, setting his chin on his clasped hands. “Kelsey, can I be honest with you?”

“Yes, sir,” she said quietly.

“I hired you because you’d been through a lot, and I wanted to give you an opportunity to get on your feet. And I think discovering your domme side has helped you gain confidence that the men in your past had stolen from you. You’ve blossomed these last few months.”

Warmth gathered in her chest at the compliment. “Thank you.”

“But dominance is not your natural state,” he said, his eyes meeting hers. “You’re more than capable of being in that role, but I can tell you have to work hard at it.”

She frowned, his matter-of-fact assessment like a bucket of cold water over her head. “I don’t understand.”

His too-keen eyes evaluated her. “After a session, you don’t look satisfied or fulfilled. You look spent. And I know you don’t use your membership benefits here. The only people you dominate are the ones paying for the privilege. You don’t play with anyone for your own enjoyment.”

She glanced away, focusing on a spot over his right shoulder. Truth was, as sexually pent up as she could get, she never had the desire to take up one of the submissive members on their offers. She’d been abstinent since about a month after the attack. The first few weeks afterward had been filled with a backslide into drinking and far too many one-night stands. She’d been on a mission to erase the memory of that last person who’d touched her by having any and everyone in her bed. But after waking up hungover in some strange apartment, parked between a guy she’d picked up at a bar and his girlfriend, she’d hoofed it to her therapist and returned to The Ranch to ask for her job back. And thank God she’d done those two things. She didn’t even want to think about where she’d be otherwise.

Dominance really wasn’t about getting off for her anyway. It was a release of different sorts. It kept the hungry demons at bay—the whispers of old addictions, the threads of insecurity, the temptation to tumble backward and not feel. It centered her. “I just haven’t found someone who interests me yet.”

“Hmm,” he said, obviously not buying that ocean-front property in Arizona she was trying to sell. “Or perhaps you’ve got a longer and more important journey left on the other side of the equation, and what happened to you blocked you from accessing that side of yourself. When you first approached me last year, before Davis, you wanted to do the submissive part first. It was what you were drawn to.”

She shook her head. “I’m not a submissive, Grant. Men have controlled me all my life. I can assure you, I gain no satisfaction from being at someone’s mercy.”

“Or maybe you’ve met the wrong someones.”

“Well, there’s no fucking doubt about that.”

He gave her a kind smile. “I could see if some of the clubs in Dallas are looking for part-time dommes, if you’d like. You could earn extra money that way, though their screening processes for members are going to be more lax so you may get some jerks in the mix.”

She shook her head. The last thing she wanted were guys who thought dominatrix equaled prostitute. No way. As she sat there, frustration started to morph brick by brick into resolve. “No. I’m tired of this. Davis is dead and letting him haunt me means he wins. Fuck that. I need to try again.”

Grant watched her for a long moment, then nodded. “I’ll tell you what, darlin’. You find a dom you’re comfortable with to complete the other half of your training and when you’re done, I’ll be more than happy to let you take on a few trainees or a small class. And if you do well with those, I’ll even recommend you to The Plantation in New Orleans. They pay well and are looking for new trainers. It’d get you out of town and a place to stay rent free.”

A ticket out of town and more money? It was exactly what she needed. “That would be amazing.”

“Do you want me to ask Colby if he wants to take you on? Or maybe Kade Vandergriff? Kade’s looking for a sub, though I think he prefers one who is going to submit to the full experience.”

“No.” She adored Kade, but didn’t want to muddy the waters with a friend. She didn’t need to take the training to that level to get the benefit. “I’d prefer to keep sex out of the training.”

“Not a problem,” Grant said, making a note on a pad on his desk. “I’ll talk to Colby later and see if he’s interested.”

She wet her lips. Colby was a friend and a good guy. She’d assisted him in more than one training class, but the thought of submitting to him left her feeling hollow inside. However, the sooner she could get this done, the sooner she could put some real money in her pocket and get the hell out of town. “Thank you, Grant.”

He gave a quick nod, though he looked more resigned than pleased. “Anytime, Kelsey. But please make sure you’re truly ready to do this and that this is the job you want. I think you have potential to be a terrific trainer, but unless you feel a passion for that role, the position will drain you dry. A nice paycheck won’t fill in the gaps.”

She glanced away, her body feeling heavier in the chair than it had a moment before. The Ranch had been her saving grace after she’d recovered from the attack. It had provided her a job, structure, and a group of friends who had treated her like family. She loved the strange, alternative world that existed behind its gates. But despite the good people, the posh resort, and the luxury of the surroundings, she never felt more excited than when she was crammed in that tiny, hot kitchen at the Sugarcane concocting a new recipe and chatting with her customers. That was what put the froth in her coffee each morning. That and serving her favorite patron …

But that dream was going to have to be put on hold for a while. Culinary school would have to wait. Her life would have to wait.

Again.

Perhaps payment for former sins was never really done.

But at the very least, maybe she could put a vicious ghost to rest.

FIVE

Wyatt leaned back in the seat of his brother’s car, plucked off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes, a blinding headache booming behind his lids. “Half of me is hoping you’re fucking with me about this and that you’re going to say ‘just kidding’ when we pull up.”

Jace glanced over at him, wryness tugging at the side of his mouth. “Sorry, brother. ’Fraid not. But if you’re going to give Kelsey shit about this, I’ll turn around right now. Just because she’s not as innocent and vanilla as you thought she was shouldn’t make a difference.”

“It’s not that,” Wyatt said with a tired sigh. “It just makes the favor I was going to ask her for a little more complicated.”

“Why is that?” Jace asked, merging into the other lane and throwing a what-the-fuck glare at the interminably slow driver they were passing.

Because it made her even more enticing. Because the idea that the sweet waitress had a down and dirty side made his cock ache. Because the thought of her submitting to his will had old desires burning holes through a wall he’d erected a long time ago. “Because I don’t … do this.”

“You used to,” Jace said pointedly.

“Don’t start.”

“No, I will fucking say what needs to be said, Wy,” Jace said, irritation cutting through his normally laidback manner. “You think you can turn that shit off? That you can simply pack it away in a neat little box and pretend that isn’t part of you? You may be able to convince yourself of that, but I saw you in action in college. Don’t forget who brought me to my first play party.”

“I didn’t bring you. You followed me.”

“And thank God I did because I might never have figured out what all the stuff I was feeling meant.”

Wyatt shook his head and adjusted his glasses back in place. Jace was the one and only person in his life who knew Wyatt had been in a D/s relationship when he was in graduate school. But his brother also knew what had happened and should know better than to push him on this. “I’m glad you found your thing. But I have no interest in traveling down that road again.”

“Right. Because I’m sure you find that scheduled Saturday night fuck very fulfilling,” Jace said, throwing him a look. “Pick up dry cleaning, shop for groceries, screw fuck buddy of the month.”

Wyatt scowled. “It’s not like that.”

“I bet you even put it on your calendar,” Jace said, on a roll now. “Do you draw in a little heart there? Or maybe a happy face?”

Wyatt grunted, but had to wrestle back a smile on that one.

“Holy shit!” Jace said, his expression lighting like a dog who’d stumbled upon a favorite bone. “You do put a smiley face, don’t you? You sick fucker.”

He shrugged. “I may put a star.”

Jace laughed hard at that, his eyes watering with the effort.

“And for the record, the woman I was … spending time with is not in the picture anymore. So no more Saturday night appointments.” And really, Wyatt hadn’t felt any regret over that. Their get togethers truly had become about as interesting as picking up his dry cleaning. He got more out of one morning at the diner with Kelsey than a slew of Saturday nights with Gwen.

“Fantastic. You’re unattached and in lust with one of my favorite women. Perfect time to live a little and have some fun.”

Wyatt stared out the window, watching the dark of night creeping over the fields. “No, it’s not. Even if I wanted to try this world again, Kelsey deserves better than what I can offer. You know I’m not cut out to do all that relationship stuff. My life doesn’t have room for that. I’ll end up hurting her.”

Jace smirked as he pulled off the road and took a left onto a half-hidden driveway. “And what makes you think she’s looking for a relationship, genius? You’re getting all noble and shit, but why would you assume all women are pining away for roses and a ring? Kelsey’s been through a lot—much of which has been caused by men.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, sensing Jace was talking about more than drug dealers being after her.

A flicker of regret passed over this expression. “It’s her story to tell, not mine. But all I’m saying is that I doubt she came to work at The Ranch because she was searching for the One with a capital O.”

Wyatt focused on the large cedar building looming in the distance as he absorbed Jace’s words. Why had he assumed that? Maybe that wasn’t what Kelsey wanted at all. He’d met those women out on a husband hunt all the time. Girls like that flocked to guys like him—ants to a Popsicle stick. They got wind of his money and position and were already building dream houses on the beach in their minds. He could smell it on them like over-spritzed perfume. He’d never gotten that vibe from Kelsey, not even a whiff.

“Maybe you’re right,” Wyatt admitted.

Jace leaned out of the car to press his finger to a machine at the entry gate, then turned back toward Wyatt. “I’m always right. I thought we’d established this by now.”

Wyatt sniffed, so used to his brother’s ego that he didn’t bother to respond to it. “This whole plan might work out after all.”

The gates in front of them swung open, and Jace pulled forward. “Oh, and one thing I forgot to tell you.”

“What’s that?”

He sent a sly grin Wyatt’s way. “Your sweet waitress who I know you’re weaving filthy slave fantasies about?”

Wyatt grimaced but didn’t deny it.

“Yeah. She’s a dominatrix.”

“She’s a—” Wyatt’s head dropped back against the seat. “Ah, fucking hell.”

* * *

Kelsey stripped down in the locker room and donned the standard black bra and panty set that most female submissive trainees wore at The Ranch. Colby had also told her to wear a basic leather collar for their first session. She knew why he’d made the request. He’d obviously sensed her reluctance to take the role even in their initial limits negotiations and wanted to put that psychological symbol in place early. And it’d been a powerful one. The minute she’d fastened the simple strip of leather around her neck, her heartbeat had picked up speed and her skin had gone clammy.

I can do this, Kelsey reminded herself.

Surprisingly, despite the trauma with Davis, fear wasn’t at the forefront of her mind. She knew Colby wouldn’t physically harm her. There wasn’t even a doubt there about that. She was more knotted up about what this submission could open in her. She tried not to think of all the men she’d yielded to in her life. None of those relationships had been D/s based, but the blind trust had been there all the same. When she let her guard down, she could lose herself in a guy. Each time thinking this was going to be the one who didn’t fuck her over. And time and time again, she’d picked the wrong guy to grace with that hope.

Growing up, she’d thought it was her version of rebellion against her mother’s sour view of men. Her mom had told her and her sister to trust none of them, that men only did what was good for their dicks, their wallets, and their ego. But Kelsey had trundled along, reading her fairy tales and believing that she could create her own one day. And that silly girlish hope had only led her right down the path scarily close to the one her mother had ended up on. Kelsey had been used, taken advantage of, and belittled more times than she cared to remember. And now she was going to let another guy have control over her.

Even though logically she knew it was temporary and that Colby would rather cut off an arm before he ever hurt her, she was having trouble keeping her dread locked away.

She glanced at the clock and realized she had three minutes before she was due in the training room. I can do this, she repeated silently, and took a deep breath. In an hour, it’d be done. The hurdle crossed. All she needed to do was get past this first session, then it would get easier. Gathering up all the iron inside her, she straightened her spine, slipped on a silk robe and ballet flats, and headed out into the hallway. Reluctant or not, she wasn’t going to dare to be late.

Once she made her way down the hallway to the training area, Kelsey let herself in, shucked the robe and shoes, and kneeled down in the middle of the quiet room. Colby had left a kneeling pad on the floor and had made sure the temperature in the room was comfortable. Both were subtle messages to her that he wasn’t going to push her too hard this first time. But there was a blindfold sitting in front of the mat, proving that he wasn’t going to be that easy. She slipped on the blindfold, sat back on her legs, and laid her palms up on her bare thighs. Now she waited.

* * *

Grant Waters crossed his arms and eyed Wyatt before looking back to Jace. “Kelsey’s in a training session right now.”

“With who?” Jace asked. “Wyatt just needs to talk to her for a few minutes.”

“And Wyatt isn’t a member here,” Grant said, ignoring Jace’s question.

Jace groaned. “Come on, man. I signed him up for a membership a few months ago. You already have all his information and approved him back then. He just never took advantage of the gift. And you know I wouldn’t send anyone in who I didn’t trust to follow the rules. Wyatt knows how this works. He’s the one I learned from.”

Grant hooked his thumbs in his pocket, stared both of them down for a moment more, then softened his stance. “You’re lucky we’re friends, Austin. Because I would normally throw out a member for trying to pull this kind of last-minute shit.”

Jace smiled his most winning smile. “Aww, is that your way of telling me you love me best?”

Grant shook his head. “Poor Evan and Andre. How they put up with your cocky ass is a wonder.”

“They both happen to love my ass. And I, theirs.”

Grant let out a long, God-give-me-the-strength sigh and cocked his head toward the big door on the far side of the lobby. “Kelsey’s supposed to be working with Colby. If he left the viewing window open to the room, you’re welcome to observe. But don’t interrupt.” He looked to Wyatt, his gaze all business now. “If you want to talk to her, you wait for the scene to be done.”

Jace clapped Grant on the shoulder. “Thanks, man. ’Preciate it.”

Wyatt shook Grant’s hand and thanked him, but Wyatt could barely get the words out. They could go watch? Fuck. That. The thought of seeing Kelsey touch some other guy or worse, having that guy touch her, had a sick feeling gathering in Wyatt’s stomach. No way would he be able to stand by for that.

He caught up with his brother as Jace walked through a door that led from the main lobby into a hushed hallway. The dark maroon walls and soft scone lighting gave Wyatt the sense of entering into some other realm. He leaned over to his brother, keeping his voice low. “Jace, I can’t watch her with some other guy. I’ll want to—”

Jace gave him a knowing look. “That bad, huh?”

“Fuck.” Wyatt raked a hand through his hair, the wave of possessiveness more concerning than anything he’d felt about Kelsey thus far.

“Don’t worry,” Jace said. “I’ll look in first.”

Jace led him down another hallway and up a set of stairs until they ended up in a corridor lined with doors and windows. Jace walked ahead of him, peeking in and then waving Wyatt forward. “Come on, the rooms are soundproof, so no one can hear us.”

The first two rooms were empty, the third had two men and a woman in it—one guy fucking the girl from behind, the other guy fucking him. All their faces were twisted in the throes of ecstasy, and the lack of sound gave the sense of watching some porn flick on mute. Wyatt had never considered himself a voyeur, but the scene was kind of hard to turn away from. All that flesh.

“You all right, brother?” Jace asked as he turned to see what Wyatt was looking at. He smirked. “Ah, nice. Don’t think too hard on that one, though. I don’t want you traumatized.”

Wyatt looked back to his brother. “Why would I be— Ah, hell, never mind.”

Jace laughed. “Come on.”

Wyatt’s brother had revealed to him a few months ago that he’d fallen in love with not just a woman, but his best friend, Andre, too. Wyatt had been happy for Jace even though he knew a three-person relationship would be a tough journey to walk. And he’d been around the trio, saw the shared glances, the affectionate kisses. It’d been odd at first to see his brother kissing another guy, especially when Jace had been such a womanizer all his life. But the three of them were all so easy together, so loving, that it’d quickly become normal to Wyatt. However, he’d purposely not allowed his mind to travel to what all that involved behind closed doors. There were some things you didn’t want to imagine, and his brother having sex was one of them.

At the last door on the left, Jace peeked in the window and sent Wyatt a quick thumbs up. “Bingo. Found your girl.”

“She’s not my—”

“And you’re in luck, brother. She’s all alone. Looks like she’s still waiting on Colby.”

Relief sprung up in Wyatt like fucking daisies popping up around him. God, he was so damn screwed with this girl. “Can I get in?”

“Sure, the doors don’t lock here. But if she doesn’t want you in there, you’ll need to leave.” He nodded toward the other end of the hallway. “I’ll look out for Colby and explain what’s going on.”

Wyatt glanced back over his shoulder, expecting the other man to appear any second. He didn’t need to waste any time. Kelsey wasn’t going to like that he’d tracked her down here, but he had to see her again. And he hoped he could offer her a solution to both their problems.

But as he walked by his brother and saw the view through the window with his own eyes, all semblance of rational thought leaked out of his head into a puddle on the floor. Kelsey wasn’t in the domme position at all. She was kneeling quietly on a cushion with her head bowed and her long blonde ponytail hanging down her back, a blindfold covering those pretty blue eyes. A scant pair of panties curved over her slim hips, and her breasts were framed by a demi-cup bra that barely covered her nipples.

His cock nudged against his fly, all the blood in his body charging south. He’d imagined her so many times, what she’d look like stripped out of that waitress uniform. But the fantasy wasn’t even in the same zip code as reality. She was absolutely, unequivocally breathtaking. And though he’d beat the urges down for so long, the old dominance inside him rose up like a phoenix from the ashes—ravenous and seeking.

He wet his lips. “How do you block out these windows?”

Jace frowned. “Don’t go there, Wy. You’re only supposed to be talking to her. If Colby comes down here and sees the window darkened, he’s gonna come in.”

“Then keep him busy.” Wyatt turned the knob on the door and stepped inside, closing the door behind him before Jace could say anything else. Deadly quiet surrounded him, augmenting the little catch in breath Kelsey gave at the click of the door.

Her lips parted as if to call out to whoever was there, but then, apparently remembering her role, she clamped them shut. She shifted her position slightly, her nerves evident. Wyatt glanced back through the window to find Jace sending him a warning look, but Wyatt ignored him and caught sight of the switch next to the window. Wyatt smiled, gave Jace a little finger wave, and flipped the switch. Instantly, the glass darkened, eventually reflecting only Wyatt’s image back at him.

He turned back around to look at Kelsey again, savoring the sight of her there on her knees. She looked so pristine, so lovely and lush. The stark overhead light caressed sun-kissed skin that called to be touched, tasted. A perfect gift perched there just for him.

No. Not for him. For some other guy, he reminded himself. The reality check made him flinch. This wasn’t fair to Kelsey. She hadn’t given her consent for him to see her this way. He cleared his throat. “Kelsey?”

She startled, her entire body stiffening. “Who’s there? Where’s Colby?”

Before he could respond, her hand went straight to her blindfold, yanking it off.

He held up his palms. “Kelsey.”

She blinked once, twice, then her eyes went round. “Wyatt?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to burst in on you like this.”

She glanced downward, as if remembering how little she was wearing, and scrambled to her feet. She reached for a robe on the bench behind her and wrapped it around herself with hasty movements. “What the hell are you doing here? How did you even get in?”

He stayed on the far side of the room, not wanting to make her retreat further. “I was worried about you, and no one could tell me where you were. I needed to see if you were okay. So I called in a favor to Jace.”

“Goddammit. He shouldn’t have told you anything.” Her whole face was flushed now. Part of it was clearly anger, but he also sensed shame there, embarrassment. “I didn’t want you to … This is not your business.”

He frowned, rubbing a hand over his jaw and feeling like a jackass for putting her in this position. “You’re right, it’s not. I’m overstepping bounds all over the place, but I had to see you. And God, to see you like this …”

Her expression turned pained, and she looked away. “Right. Like this. Guess you can let whatever shred of respect you had left for me go now.”

He took a tentative step closer, unable to resist the magnetic pull she always seemed to have on him. “Is that what you think? That I’ve lost respect for you? Kelsey, it’s taking everything I have not to haul you off to a private room and tie you to something so I can spend the rest of the night showing you exactly how I’d like to respect you.”

Her face whipped back his way, surprise morphing her features. “What?”

He peeked back at the closed door, hoping he still had a few minutes before being interrupted. “You’re not the only one with secrets.”

She stared at him for a long moment, and he could almost see when the awareness dawned.

“You’re a dom,” she said flatly, not looking at all happy about this conclusion.

The term sounded almost foreign to his ears, it’d been so long since someone had called him that. “I used to be.”

She shook her head and looked to the heavens. “I should’ve known.”

Wyatt crossed his arms. “But Jace told me you were, too. Why are you in here?”

All the starch seemed to leave her body as she knotted the sash around her waist and pulled the robe more tightly around her. “I’m trying to get promoted to a trainer so I can make more money. This is part of the process.”

“How much money do you need, Kelsey?” he said, the possessiveness flaring up in him again. He’d be damned if he was going to let her turn her body over to some random guy so she could get cash.

She pinned him with a warning gaze. “I appreciate your concern, but don’t get any charitable notions. I don’t take handouts, Wyatt. I can handle this.”

The door opened behind him, and he spun around to find his brother with an I-told-you-so look standing behind a man who could only be Colby. The guy was as tall as Wyatt but built like a fucking lumberjack. And he looked mad enough to swing an ax Wyatt’s way. “Kelsey, you all right, sweetheart? Or do I need to haul this fucker outside?”

Wyatt gritted his teeth.

Kelsey raised a palm. “It’s okay, Colby. He’s a friend of mine. And was just leaving. I’m sorry about the delay. I’ll be ready for our session in a second.”

Wyatt looked between the two of them. The hell she would. He stepped closer to Kelsey, thinking fast, altering his original plan. “I can offer you a job.”

“Wyatt—”

“I’ll pay you twenty-five thousand dollars for a week of work,” he said, snagging a figure out of the air. “But you’ll need to come with me right now.”

Her lips parted in surprise. “What?”

“I can explain everything to you, but not here.” He glanced at Colby and Jace, then back to her. “You don’t have to do this right now. At least hear me out first.”

Kelsey stared at him for a stretch of seconds, and he thought she was going to tell him to take his money and fuck off, but then she blew out a breath. “Fine.” She peered past Wyatt. “Colby, I’m sorry, hon. I didn’t mean to screw up your schedule. Can I take a rain check? I need to take care of something.”

Colby shrugged. “Sure thing. Gives me a good reason to cut out early tonight. I had a long week at the day job anyway. Let me know when you want to reschedule.”

Kelsey walked around Wyatt and pushed up on her toes to kiss Colby’s cheek. “You’re a sweetheart.”

His lip curled. “You wouldn’t have said that if you’d gone through my training session.”

Kelsey smiled and patted his arm before peeking back over her shoulder at Wyatt. “Come with me. I have to change, then you can walk me to my cabin and we’ll talk.”

For the first time ever, Wyatt saw the glimmer of dominance in her own eyes, the sass. He was on her turf now and he sensed the confidence of that running through her. The sight should’ve warned him off. He didn’t have a submissive molecule in his DNA. But somehow it only made him want her more.

“Yes ma’am,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting as he sidled up next to her, slipping a hand on the small of her back. “You’re in charge.”

For now.

SIX

Kelsey curled her legs under her in the arm chair, listening to Wyatt make his offer. She was still having trouble wrapping her mind around the fact that Wyatt Austin was here at The Ranch and in her cabin, chatting with her like they had some actual friendship. It was like she’d stumbled through some portal where fantasy and reality collided and morphed. But what Wyatt was suggesting was even more mind-scrambling than finding out that he used to be a dom.

“What do you think?” he asked after laying out his crazy proposal with stoic precision.

She strung together his last few sentences in her head, rewinding and digesting them again to make sure she was hearing him right. Yep. Still crazy. “So, wait a second, you want to pay me all that money to be your date?”

Small frown lines appeared around his mouth, like parentheses framing his dissatisfaction with that explanation. “Sort of. You would be posing as my girlfriend and accompanying me to events at the retreat.”

Unbelievable. She would’ve never thought the man delusional. She reached up to pull the too-tight band from her hair, releasing her ponytail and some of the pressure building in her head. “Wyatt, have you met me? I’m a waitress who grew up in a neighborhood that cops were afraid to go to at night. No one’s going to believe I’m some rich chick from out of state.”

He leaned forward on the couch, bracing his forearms on his thighs, his features half in shadows in the lamplight. “Yes, I have met you. And what I see is a beautiful woman who can think on her feet and who has the ability to charm anyone in a room. I can get you up to speed on the finer details, the etiquette. And maybe you can help me, too, because God knows making small talk and schmoozing clients are on top of the list of things I suck at.”

She arched a brow. “You can’t be that bad.”

“No. Trust me. The universe gave all of that skill set to my brother.” His focus drifted to the hand she was using to finger comb her hair, his gaze tracking her movements with open appreciation. “I like your hair down. I never get to see it that way.”

“Thank you.” She clasped her hands in her lap, the memory of how he’d looked at her in the training room coming back to her. Even before she’d gotten over the surprise of seeing him standing there, her body had gone hot and needy at his blatant perusal of her form. Never had she had that kind of reaction to such a clearly dominant assessment. The rush of it had nearly knocked her on her ass.

But she couldn’t let herself get distracted by the bone-deep attraction he always roused in her. This was dangerous territory. The suggested deal was way too reminiscent of how her mother first started her “career.” Rich men making seemingly harmless offers. A night on the town, a few pretty things to wear, and a wad of cash to help a girl with her tough situation. What was expected in return was easy, right? Especially if the guy was good looking and charming anyway. Her mother had stepped into the trap of that fairy tale facade, and the sharp-toothed demons waiting on the other side had devoured her and spit her out, leaving her irreparably broken.

And though Kelsey didn’t want to believe that this was the type of arrangement Wyatt was suggesting, she needed to ask the question. She cleared her throat. “What exactly would you be expecting for the money?”

“Precisely what I said.”

She lifted her gaze to him. “But we’d be staying in the same room.”

“Of course,” he answered, looking a bit exasperated. “I thought that was clear.”

She shifted on the couch, the answer stinging and anger welling. “So you think because I let men pay me to beat them, that I’d just take a check to fuck someone, too?”

For a second, he looked as if she’d thrown ice water in his face, then he grimaced. “Kelsey, no. Do you honestly think I’d expect sex in return for money?”

She shrugged, her heart still beating too fast. “You wouldn’t be the first guy in my life to make that offer.”

Or the tenth.

When she’d stripped at the club, the offers had come nightly. Luckily, even in her haziest days of drug addiction, she hadn’t taken anyone up on it. But she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that she’d stayed with boyfriends much longer than she would’ve because they’d funded her habit. She bet if Wyatt knew all of that he wouldn’t be sitting here wanting to parade her around his clients. He wouldn’t want to be seen with her anywhere.

He dragged a hand through his hair, appearing to be truly pained that she’d ever been propositioned in that way, and met her gaze. “Look, I’m not good at lying. So I’m not going to sit here and pretend that I don’t want you. That I haven’t thought about you in exactly the position I found you in tonight. That sharing a room with you and not touching you isn’t going to be a challenge. But nothing has changed since the day I didn’t kiss you in the car. I’m not going to pretend to offer something I don’t have to give just to get you in bed.”

The stark honesty startled her, hitting some unfamiliar spot inside her. She wasn’t used to guys straight-shooting with her. All her life, the men she attracted were the smooth-talkers, the snake charmers, the guys with the wink-and-a-smile promises. This man wasn’t feeding her a line. If she took this money and stayed with him, he’d keep his hands off her no matter how much he wanted to do otherwise. She knew it without a shade of doubt.

But the question was, would she survive it? She hadn’t slept with anyone in almost a year and for the last few months, the man sitting across from her had been playing the lead role in her fantasies. Fantasies that had scared her, had made her want things she hadn’t been able to do with anyone else. Things she’d been dreading doing tonight with Colby …

“Thank you for being honest with me. And I know I can take you at your word,” she said, her voice steady as resolve began building in her, crystalizing.

“You absolutely can,” he assured, some of the darkness and tension lifting from his face, hope replacing it. “So you’ll do it?”

Twenty-five grand would solve her most pressing issue with the snap of her fingers. She’d be able to move and get on her feet, find another job. One magical sweep of the money wand and it’d be done. Someone else fixing her problems for her again. The carrot danced in front of her at the end of that stick. And it looked mighty delicious.

But before she could reach out and take a bite, she thought back to her session yesterday with Hawk, the way she’d felt when he’d dropped that fifty-dollar bill on the table. Did she want to be bought by yet another man? Hired help? The little spark of pleasure she got when she was around Wyatt would be twisted and tainted once money got dumped into the mix. And that spark was the only pure thing in her life at the moment.

A menacing voice whispered in her head. You’re going to trust this guy, you stupid girl? You’ll be all alone with him. He could hurt you, Kelsey. It could be a trap like last time. Why else would someone like him want trash like you?

She swiped her damp palms on her pants and mentally gave Davis Ackerman’s ghost and his ugly whispers the finger. “I’m not taking your money, Wyatt.”

His mouth went slack. “What? If it’s about sharing a room, I can get a suite with a sofa sleeper—”

She shook her head and held up a palm, halting him. “You may be able to survive sharing a room for all that time. But I won’t.”

He clamped his mouth shut, his brows quirking upward.

“I’m not exactly in the market for a relationship either, you know. I’m not searching for some guy from the castle on top of the hill to come save me from my poor, peasant life. Up until that asshole dragged me into the alley, I was pretty damn happy with where I was. And now I’m just pissed that I have to turn everything upside down because of him.”

“I wasn’t trying to imply that—”

“I’m not done,” she said, shifting her feet back to the floor and leaning forward. “What I need is a job that pays more so that I can get away from this current mess and get back on track with my plans. And what I have to have in order to get that job is for a dom to put me through a month of sub training.”

He scowled. “With that fucking lumberjack.”

She smirked. Colby would love that nickname. “Maybe. Or maybe you and I could do an even exchange.”

“An exchange?” he asked, his tone growing wary.

“I’ll go with you to your retreat and be the best pretend girlfriend a guy could have.” Before she could think too hard on it and chicken out, she slid off the chair and onto the floor, her knees hitting the cool wood and her heart trying to pound right out of her chest. “And you knock the dust off your dominance and put me through my paces for the first week or so of this. After that, you can decide if you want to finish my training or send me back to Colby for the rest.”

He made some noise in the back of his throat, and she couldn’t tell if it was a pleased sound or a horrified one. “Kelsey, I don’t … I haven’t since college.”

She sensed fear there, resistance, but it was underscored by the pure need that flared in his irises. And that alone sent more heat through her than anything she’d experienced in years. “Were you any good, Mr. Austin?”

He closed his eyes, rubbing his brow bone, as if looking at her wasn’t allowing him to think properly. “I mentored under the best. He told me I was a natural.”

She didn’t doubt it. The man reeked of power and control. And she had a feeling Wyatt Austin didn’t do anything unless he could master it completely. “Why did you stop?”

His eyes snapped open at that, a veil sliding down between them, his whole demeanor going distant. “Things got too … intense. Kelsey, I don’t think I can—”

She scooted closer, sliding her hands onto his spread knees. His reluctance only added more fuel to her resolve. He was scared, too. “It won’t be easy for me either. It’s been a long while since I’ve been with any guy. And giving over control triggers a lot of old fears in me. But with you, I feel like maybe I could do it. Like I want to try.”

He looked down at her, conflicting emotions waging a battle in the set of his mouth, the clench of his jaw. He cupped her face. “You asking me this while on your knees in front of me is not even close to fair fighting.”

She let a slow smile curve her lips. This was what she loved about being around Wyatt. He didn’t see her as the fuckup or a trauma victim or even as a piece of ass. He saw her as a woman. He saw her. And the simplicity of that felt amazing, empowering. “A week away. We both get something we need and something I think we’ve both been wanting since the day you sat in my section. And at the end, I don’t expect anything of you, and you don’t expect anything of me. Clean finish.”

He traced her cheekbones with his thumbs, and the simple sensation rocketed through her. She rarely let subs touch her, and never without permission. But even a brush from Wyatt had her swallowing hard. “I’d be taking advantage of your situation.”

“Maybe I’m taking advantage of yours,” she countered. “I’m attracted to you. I wanted you to kiss me in the car that day. And I’ve wanted you to act on those looks you throw at me in the restaurant. I was just afraid to make a move because I figured you wouldn’t like what you saw behind the sweet, young waitress image you’d assigned to me.”

He gave a rueful smile. “You are young. And I still think you’re sweet.”

“I’m twenty-five.”

He groaned. “Christ. I’m more than a decade older than you.”

“Like that matters.” She let her hands slide farther up his thighs, growing bolder there at his feet. “And I promise you, I’m not as sweet as you think.”

His gaze devoured her, and he pressed his palms into the couch cushions, as if it was taking everything he had not to reach out and pillage. “I wasn’t an easy master. You need to know that. And if I open up that part of me again, I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep it to a CliffsNotes version.”

A shiver went through her, some strange cocktail of apprehension and anticipation stirring. She knew—really knew in the deepest part of herself—he would never harm her. She’d been eye-to-eye with evil before and could sniff out the stench of it like a dog. But seeing the honest worry in the lines around Wyatt’s mouth and the tight hold of his shoulders had her wanting to curl into his lap and kiss away those fears. “You aren’t a man who does things halfway. I wouldn’t expect anything less from you in this arena either.”

He regarded her for another long moment, then finally reached out for her.

“Come ’ere.” He cupped her shoulders, his palms hot against her bare skin, and guided her off her knees and onto the couch, straddling his lap like it was the most natural spot for her to be. Like they hadn’t been simply server and customer a few weeks ago.

He adjusted her, and the hard ridge of his cock pressed against her through the thin material of her yoga pants. She closed her eyes, overwhelmed for a moment with the feel of him, his heat, the heady masculine scent she’d only gotten teasing whiffs of before. God, how long had she imagined being this close to him? Moisture coated her sex, her whole body going into melt mode at the contact. And the feeling was good—so good—to just be turned on and hot for a guy. A taste of normal.

She forced her eyes open, not wanting to miss a moment of this. Up close, Wyatt was even more potent than she’d imagined, the blue in his eyes more intense, the curve of his mouth more sensual. Male beauty tucked behind dark-rimmed glasses and a stoic’s disposition. His palms glided across her shoulders and over the straps of her tank top, then his fingers were threading in her hair. He touched her as if he were sculpting a piece of clay to create her form—a reverence and appreciation there that made everything in her want to break open. “Promise me you won’t let me hurt you, Kelsey.”

The words were so soft, the look in his eyes so stripped, that she lost her breath for a moment. She reached out and brushed the back of her hand along his stubbled jaw. “I promise.” You can’t break the broken.

With that last assurance, it was as if the tide he’d been swimming against reversed. His fingers tightened along her skull, and he brought her mouth down to his, his lips capturing hers in a soft but demanding kiss. Her body seemed to sigh into it, to surrender to the moment. But the second her muscles went lax, his tongue parted her lips, and all semblance of slow and easy fell away from them. Their tongues collided in a rush, hungry and seeking. Her hands began to roam, grabbing at his shirt, pressing against the hard, solid body beneath, wishing there were no layers between them.

All the pent-up months of wanting this man, wanting to know what he tasted like, what would please him poured into the connection between them. Everything went electric, like static coursing over her skin, heightening her senses. The feel of his hands against her scalp, the spicy scent of his cologne, the scrape of stubble against her face—it was all amplified.

This man lit her up.

And his kiss was as desperate as hers, his lips and mouth drinking her in, consuming her one stroke and nibble at a time. He arched his hips, grinding his cock against her sex and making her moan into his mouth. In that moment, she was ready for whatever this crazy agreement would entail, as long as she got to experience him like this. This untethered abandon. She rocked forward, curling her fingers into his dark blue polo shirt and holding tight, as he bit her bottom lip and then worked his way along the curve of her neck.

He lowered his hands to the curve of her hips, guiding her against him in a slow, undulating motion, his hard length teasing and tormenting her. The soft satin of her panties brushed along her now-slippery cleft, making her skin go flushed all over. When he grazed her collarbone with his teeth, she let out a pleading gasp. “Wyatt.”

“I want you to come for me,” he said, the heated command hitting her like a branding iron, marking unfamiliar places inside her. “And then you won’t be allowed to again until our trip. You understand?”

Fuck. The shift in him was so absolute, so gut-wrenchingly sexy, she could barely form her response. “Yes, sir.”

He closed his eyes, as if inhaling and absorbing her reply. Then he moved his hand between her spread legs, cupping her sex through the thin cotton and massaging her clit with toe-curling accuracy using the heel of his hand. “I can smell your arousal, love. And you’re wrong about one thing: You’re definitely sweet. I can’t wait to taste just how very.”

Her head tilted back, the pleasure crawling up her spine and climbing out in a groan. It wouldn’t take long. Even though she was more than adept at handling her own needs, she’d thought about Wyatt touching her for so long that she felt as if she’d been on the edge of this particular orgasm for months—one only he could give her.

While he continued the skillful rocking pressure between her thighs, his free hand traced up her sternum, brushing the inner curves of her breasts through her shirt, and then collaring her neck. She’d seen the move done a hundred times by doms in The Ranch’s playspaces, but never before had anyone done it to her. An overwhelming wash of pure need went through her system, the press of his palm against the hollow of her throat slaying her. She closed her eyes against the dueling sensations of helplessness and blinding desire as he held her exactly in the spot he wanted her, not allowing her to escape his erotic torment.

“Come for me, Kelsey,” he said, his voice like warm cider on a cold night. “I’ve imagined it one too many times alone in my own bed. I want to know what you sound like when you break open.”

The words sent her body aflame. Images of him slipping his hand beneath the covers at night, taking his cock in his hand and thinking of her was a little too much for her stampeding hormones to handle. His grip tightened against her throat, and the hand between her legs became more intense and precise, her swollen nub pulsing now.

“Wyatt.” His name was more plea than anything else. Every muscle in her body seemed to contract, bracing for impact.

“Let go,” he said softly.

At that last whispered command, blessed release crashed over her, wrenching a sharp, keening cry from her throat. Her hips bucked against his hand, shamelessly seeking every bit of pleasure he was willing to bestow upon her, as she rode the wave of orgasm.

“That’s it,” he said, still holding her in place, though there was grit and strain in his voice. “So fucking gorgeous.”

She shuddered hard, and her breath came out in ragged gasps.

“Good girl,” he said softly, the two words holding pride, endearment.

And as if he knew the exact second where she couldn’t take anymore, he moved his hand away and eased her against him, pressing her forehead into his shoulder as she panted her way down from her peak. His fingers caressed her back, tracing her spine. But the relaxing move didn’t hide the fact that his erection was a prominent and insistent pressure against her hip.

“You okay?” he asked, brushing a gentle palm over the back of her head.

“I’m fantastic,” she murmured into the curve of his neck. She shifted her weight, languidly reaching down to clasp the hard ridge of his cock through his slacks. “Now it’s your turn, handsome.”

He grabbed her wrist, not roughly, but firmly enough to halt her movement. Startled, she sat back to face him, and he brought her hand to his mouth, kissing the inside of her wrist. “Tonight was for you.”

“But I want to make you feel good, too.” And that was the damn truth. She couldn’t wait to touch, to explore, to pleasure him. Her mouth watered at the thought of sliding down between his knees and taking that thick cock between her lips, to finally know what he tasted like.

“And that’s not your decision,” he said with a faint smile, though she could see he was more than tempted. His whole body was taut, tense—hungry. But he didn’t move. “We’ve made a lot of agreements tonight. Big agreements. I want you to have time to think this through before I take it any further.”

“You think I’m going to change my mind?”

He eased her off him, setting her against the arm of the couch and pressing a soft kiss to her mouth. “I hope you don’t, but tonight has been a whirlwind, and our judgment may be a little fogged with desire at the moment. I know mine always is when I’m around you.”

She smiled at that.

“We head out in a little over a week. I can be patient. I’ve waited this long to have you. Surely I’ll survive a few more days.”

She glanced down at this tented slacks, lifting an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

He gave her a look that seemed to say touché. “I’m going to send a driver for you and a personal assistant to help you over the next few days. They’ll make sure you’re set up with everything you need for the trip.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he gave her don’t-even-try-it eyes. “And I don’t want to hear any reports of you arguing with them about me buying things for you. This is an important business function and, as my companion, there will be an expected level of dress. It’s my responsibility to provide that for you. If that feels wrong to you, you can give the stuff back after we’re done.”

She pressed her lips together and nodded.

“And you will come and stay with me at my home the Friday before we leave. We need to come up with a plan, a story of how we met, the little details that couples know about each other.”

“Okay.” Nerves fluttered in her belly as the haze of pleasure mellowed and reality set in. She was going to have to really work hard at pulling this off so she didn’t let Wyatt down in front of his colleagues. He was putting a lot of faith in her.

“And until then”—he put a knuckle beneath her chin—“you will not train with anyone, you will not pleasure yourself, and you will get some rest.”

The authoritative tone sent a soft hum through her veins. “Yes, sir.”

“And just so you know, I consider our arrangement, as temporary as it is, an exclusive one. I expect you to be faithful to me from now until the end of it. I don’t share.”

Her shoulders stiffened. Knowing that he was heading home turned on and pent up poked at her mind like bony fingers. Did he have some girl he saw on the side? He wasn’t dating anyone, but she doubted a man like Wyatt was a monk. She hated the crackle of jealousy working its way through her, but she couldn’t help it. “And you?”

The corner of his mouth lifted, as if amused by the question. “I would never disrespect you that way. The exclusivity goes both ways.”

She released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding on to.

“And if you change your mind about any of this …”

She reached out and grabbed his hand. “I’m not going to change my mind.”

He gave her fingers a squeeze. “’Til Friday, then.”

“’Til Friday.”

And with that, he gave her another gentle kiss and was gone.

The second the door closed behind him, the vacuum his absence left behind walloped Kelsey. It was as if all the warmth in the room had just disappeared. She grabbed the throw from the back of the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders. She’d lived alone for the last year and had enjoyed the solitude, but she had the instinctive urge to call after him. To ask him to stay here with her at the cabin. Something in her settled when he was close by.

And that terrified her more than anything had in a long time.

The last thing she needed was another addiction.

And Wyatt Austin was turning out to be a very, very tempting drug.

SEVEN

“You’re going to what?” Jace asked once he and Wyatt were back on the highway heading toward Dallas.

Wyatt leaned against the headrest, his body still buzzing with unreleased energy and his better judgment starting to sneak back in now that his head was clearing. “I know. She should’ve just taken the money.”

“Ha. That would’ve set up a nightmare of a trip. Her being on your arm all day as your girlfriend and then sharing your room at night, possibly your bed. You would’ve spent most of the trip jerking off in the shower to keep your hands off her. Sounds like fun for all.”

It would’ve been tortuous. But at least it would’ve been safer. “I don’t want to hurt her.”

“So don’t.” Jace glanced his way, headlights from a car coming in the opposite direction flashing across his features. “I know it’s been a long time for you, but you’re still a master of self-control. You’re not going to lose your shit and do something stupid. That’s my style, not yours. You know how to do this. Pay attention to her signals, sift out what her needs are, and then push her to her edge.”

Wyatt sighed and rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses. “I don’t know if I’m as calm and in control as you think.”

“Did you fuck her tonight?” Jace asked, shifting his gaze back to the road.

“No.”

“Would she have let you?”

“Yes.” And he’d wanted to. God, had he wanted to. “It wasn’t the right time.”

Jace gave a triumphant smile. “See. There you go. Proof positive you’ve still got it. Because believe me, not many men would walk away from a willing Kelsey LeBreck. That girl is temptation personified. I’ve seen male subs grovel at her feet for the mere privilege of serving her a glass of water.”

“She got on her knees for me, man,” Wyatt said, looking out the side window, almost talking to himself. “I was ready to say no, that there was no way I could do this, go down that road again. But seeing her there, I couldn’t fucking stop the urge. The need to claim her welled up and took over. Orders started falling out of my mouth like I was possessed by some former version of myself.”

Jace reached out and gripped Wyatt’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Welcome back to the dark side, brother. We’ve got cookies. Hope you enjoy your stay.”

Wyatt turned his head, his tone deadpan. “You’re not helping.”

His brother laughed. “Come on. You’ve got a beautiful woman willing to play slave to you. And your business retreat issue is fixed. Embrace that. You’ve made this agreement. Now keep your word and stop stressing about it.”

Wyatt sagged in the seat. His word. That’s what he’d given Kelsey. And he didn’t go back on a promise. Plus, if he was honest with himself, he was already in too deep to walk away. How Kelsey had felt against him tonight, the way she’d melted under his commands had lit a fuse that wasn’t going to burn out easily. Even the sound of her voice, those soft cries as she came kept replaying in his head like some song he couldn’t shake.

He had to have her. And not only in his bed, but surrendering to his will, being his.

He prayed that a week would be enough, that he wouldn’t get consumed by that need like he had with Mia …

Because if he stripped Kelsey of even one ray of the light that seemed to shine from her, he’d never forgive himself.

You’re older now, more in control, he reminded himself. He wasn’t some lovesick college student. This was a sexual arrangement, not a relationship. Kelsey was not Mia.

Yeah. Now to get himself to believe it.

“Bring me to your place before you drop me off at mine,” Wyatt said, shoving the worries back into the dusty, dark corners of his mind and refocusing on the task at hand. He needed to take a page from Jace’s book and live in the moment for a change.

“Okay. How come?”

“Because I’m going to need you to open up Wicked for a private shopping session tonight. It’s time I use my investor discount, don’t you think?”

Jace’s grin was pure mischief. “I thought you’d never ask. Hope you’ve got an extra suitcase to bring on the trip, bro. Because you’re about to get the kink hookup of the year.”

* * *

Kelsey sat on a bench outside of The Ranch, her leg bumping up and down as she waited for Wyatt’s driver to pick her up. She was suddenly having visions of those scenes in Pretty Woman where the stuck-up shop owners were giving Julia Roberts shit because they thought she was trash. Kelsey glanced down at her simple white sweater and jeans, hoping her outfit didn’t scream “Imposter!” to anyone who looked too closely.

And what was Wyatt’s personal assistant going to think? Would Wyatt have told him or her that Kelsey was some new woman in his life, or would he have told the person the truth? The latter made her stomach churn. She’d been on the other side of judgment in her life too many times to count. She should be used to it by now—the upturned noses, the whispered comments, the passive-aggressive remarks. But, though she was more practiced at her outward response these days, that kind of judgment still chipped away at her with painful accuracy.

So when the limo pulled up a few minutes later, Kelsey had gone into total mannequin mode—her smile stiff and her fingers clutching her purse like it held the Hope Diamond. But when the back door swung open and a petite, dark-haired woman slid out, all of Kelsey’s anxiety sloughed off her and puddled on the ground, relief swooping in.

“Evan?”

“Hey there.” Evan Kennedy smiled and hopped onto the curb to give Kelsey a quick hug. “You look so surprised. Wyatt didn’t tell you who was coming?”

Kelsey squeezed Evan back before releasing her. “No. He said a personal assistant. That’s all I knew. But man, am I glad to see you.”

“Same here, sweetie. Wyatt asked Jace if he could borrow me to help you out with ‘girlie’ stuff.” She did air quotes complete with an eye roll. “I swear. You’d think I was taking you out to buy your first tampons or something.”

Kelsey laughed, so relieved to see Jace’s girlfriend that the sound came out giddy. She and Evan weren’t particularly close, but she’d gotten to chat with her a few times at The Ranch when Evan wasn’t occupied with both of her dominants, Jace and Andre. And Evan had never been anything but warm and welcoming toward her. “I hope I didn’t take you away from anything important.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Hell, no. I photographed two weddings and a sweet sixteen party this weekend. I need a day away. Especially when said day includes riding around in a limo and shopping for you with someone else’s credit card.”

Kelsey smiled, even though the idea that Wyatt was buying things for her still sent uneasiness through her.

“Plus, Wyatt helped Jace and I out with a crisis last year, and I’d do just about anything for that guy. He’s good people.”

The driver came around the front of the limo with a polite smile. “Ready, ladies?”

Evan grabbed for Kelsey’s hand to tug her toward the car, her delight evident. “Yep, whisk us away, Henry.”

Both of them climbed inside, and Kelsey had to hold back her gasp at how luxurious the inside was. She’d been inside limos a time or two for bachelorette parties and such, but she could tell instantly by the buttery soft seats and the embossed A&A on the glassware that this wasn’t rented. This one was owned. By Wyatt’s company.

Wyatt owned a fucking limo, probably many, and one day would own an entire company. It wasn’t news, but seeing it right there in her face definitely rocked her a bit. It was easy to normalize Wyatt when he was sitting in the cafe drinking coffee and reading the paper, imagining that he was just an everyday guy who happened to wear designer suits and have a big job. But Kelsey had never really allowed herself to think too far past that, to truly grasp that this man existed in a world of filthy, filthy wealth.

And she was about to enter into that universe to try to deceive it into thinking she belonged there.

She was way out of her depth. With this ruse. And this man.

She tucked her hands beneath her legs, sitting on them to fight the instinct to grab the handle of the door and hop right back out. This was why Wyatt had given her time to change her mind. He knew things would look different in the daylight. But she’d made an agreement and didn’t plan on backing out now.

They rode into the city, Evan providing a steady stream of chitchat to keep Kelsey’s mind from spiraling down into the pit too far. But by the time the driver had stopped in front of the city’s swankiest shopping district, the concerns were starting to tiptoe in again like thieves trying to hijack her remaining resolve.

Evan directed Kelsey into the first shop, where a young brunette flashed them a perfectly practiced smile and led them to a private dressing area that had posh leather couches, champagne, and a tray of canapés set up for them. She motioned to the space like a Vanna White wannabe. “Mr. Austin let us know what types of things you’d need for your upcoming trip, Ms. LeBreck. So our stylist took the liberty of assembling some outfits for you to try on. He said you preferred classic lines with an edge of sexiness. Obviously, if these don’t work, we can go through the store and pull some more looks for you.”

Kelsey stared at the racks of dresses and outfits that lined the far wall of the room. Next to them, accessories were set out on a table, grouped by color and level of dressiness. She cleared her throat. “Um, thank you. I’m sure I’ll be able to find what I need. This looks great.”

The girl beamed as if she’d personally designed all the clothes in the room. “Would you like me to help you get started?”

Evan glanced at Kelsey, then back at the girl. “I think we’re okay right now. But we’ll call for you if we need any assistance.”

The girl nodded and breezed out, leaving Kelsey and Evan behind with the clothes, champagne, and classical music.

Evan shook her head, watching the door close behind the girl. “I can’t believe people actually get to shop like this.”

“Seriously.” Kelsey walked over to the rack of dresses, reaching out to feel the jewel-colored fabrics, the luxurious material gliding over her fingers. Handwritten price tags hung from each one, some costing more than her monthly rent. She grabbed one tag, running her thumb over the outrageous number.

“I can hear you panicking,” Evan said, stepping behind her. “You okay?”

Kelsey peeked back over her shoulder. “You do mindreading on the side?”

Evan sent her a sympathetic smile. “Sorry. I live with two doms. I’ve picked up on a few things. You went all stiff.”

Kelsey dropped the price tag and let a shimmery cocktail dress slide over her hand. It was all … so much. Too much. She headed to the side table with the champagne, but moved past the alcohol and grabbed a sparkling water instead. “I’ll be all right. I think it’s starting to set in that I’m actually going to do this.”

“Which part?” she asked, her pale blue eyes showing true concern.

Kelsey took a long gulp of water. “How much did Wyatt tell you?”

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