Текст книги "Sweet Surrender"

Автор книги: Maya Banks

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

CHAPTER 3

Gray leaned against the brick of the apartment complex and watched as Faith struggled to heave two large grocery bags out of her backseat then nudge the door shut with her hip.

He started forward, reaching for the bags when he was close enough. Wide, startled green eyes flashed up at him as she took in his presence.

“Here, let me help you with that,” he said.

She relinquished them, still staring at him in surprise. Though they both lived here—Pop owned the apartment complex and Connor, Nathan and Micah also lived here—he and Faith hadn’t yet crossed paths since he’d moved in.

He made his way to her door and turned back, waiting for her to unlock it. She cocked her head to the side.

“How did you know which apartment was mine?”

“Your brother told me,” he said with a shrug.

She frowned. “Connor’s usually so tight-lipped. I’m amazed he’d tell you for fear you’d break in and murder me in my sleep.”

Gray chuckled. “Is that your way of saying he’s a little protective of you?”

“No, he’s just cautious,” she said as she slid the key into the lock. “And private. Very, very private. It’s not like him to offer personal information.” She opened the door and gestured for him to go inside.

“Does it bother you that he told me your apartment number?” he asked as he shouldered by her. “I merely offered to keep an eye out since my unit is so close by.”

She followed him in and shut the door. “No, it doesn’t bother me.”

“Well, then, now that we’ve settled that, where do you want the groceries?”

She pointed toward the kitchen. “On the bar, please. I’ll put them away later.”

He took his time walking across the living room, glancing around at the interior of her apartment. From the impression he’d formed of her, he’d expected pink, maybe yellow, lighter pastels. Girly colors and decor. Frilly shit draped from one end to the other. He couldn’t have been more mistaken.

The apartment was decorated in rich, dark earth tones. There was a decidedly masculine feel to the furnishings. Burgundies, dark blue, greens. The couch and love seat were dark brown leather, and they actually looked comfortable, like they were sat in and not used solely for decoration. She was an interesting contradiction. One that intrigued him greatly.

He set the groceries down and glanced over at the telephone. Looked like a standard land line. Easy enough to tap, only he’d have to get into her apartment when she wasn’t around and make damn sure she never found out about it.

He’d gleaned enough information from Micah and Nathan to know that she was fairly routine in her comings and goings. Most weeknights she stayed home. Friday and Saturday nights she spent out with the guy she was currently dating, and Sundays she usually went over to Pop’s. She occasionally spent time over at her brother’s or at Nathan’s or Micah’s place, but for the most part, she appeared to be a loner.

When he turned back around to face her, he found her studying him, her eyes hooded and wary. There was a subtle curiosity in her gaze, despite her reserve. Like she couldn’t quite figure him out. Join the club, babe. He hadn’t exactly been able to figure her out either in the short time they’d been acquainted.

Her arms were crossed, folded protectively over her midsection. They inadvertently plumped her breasts, pushing them upward until they strained against her shirt. He could just see the outline of her nipples, pressing gently outward.

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked politely, though her body language told a different story. She wasn’t comfortable with him here. In her space.

He smiled. “Thanks, but I have to go. I’m meeting Micah for drinks.”

She pulled a face. “I know what that means.”

He arched his brow. “Oh?”

She laughed huskily. “If it’s Micah, it’ll involve lots of gorgeous women, usually brainless gorgeous women, okay, make that half-dressed, brainless, gorgeous women.”

“Sounds like my kind of guy,” he drawled.

She flushed again. “I didn’t take you for the brainless type.”

The corner of his mouth went up. So she’d been analyzing him. Very interesting. And she didn’t take him for the brainless type. Good observation, though it could have been a lucky guess. Frankly, he’d rather suffer a case of blue balls before getting his dick wet in a chick with more dead space than a black hole.

“I like the half-dressed part,” he said with a grin.

Faith rolled her eyes. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Ah, dismissed. He retreated. No sense spazzing her out. He’d meet Micah, throw back a few, then he’d head over to the office to tap her phone. He’d wait until she was at work to get into her apartment.

As he walked toward the door, her soft voice brushed over his ears.

“Thanks for the help.”

He turned his head. “Anytime.”

Faith watched him go with an odd hitch in her breath. She hadn’t expected to see him again so soon after their first encounter, but then she imagined they’d be bumping into each other a lot, given they worked together and lived in the same apartment complex.

She knew from Connor that Gray was a Dallas cop on leave after his partner had been killed in the line of duty. According to Nathan, Gray wasn’t much of a talker. He and Connor should get along famously then, because Connor was as tight-lipped as they came.

Micah and Nathan on the other hand…they more than made up for Connor’s seriousness with their antics. Fun loving. Not a serious bone in their body.

Faith grinned. Just where Gray would fit into the eclectic mix was anyone’s guess.

She turned to put away all the groceries, and when she was done, she poured herself a tall glass of tea before heading to her computer.

Setting her drink to the side, she slid into the chair and moved the mouse to bring up the screen. She opened her browser and typed in the address for Google.

Now, what to search. She sat there a long moment, staring at the empty search field. What was she looking for? Did it have a name, this nebulous craving twisting inside her?

Maybe she should be Googling what to do when you lost your ever-loving mind. Finally she opted to type in a variety of words. Maybe by narrowing her choices a bit, she wouldn’t be inundated with superfluous information, and if she were really lucky, she’d actually get one or two sites that weren’t porn.

Dominance. Control. Hmmm. What else? Oh wait, back up. Male Dominance. Control. Submission? No, that just sounded wrong. Okay, so she’d just go with Male Dominance and Control for now.

Oh, geez. Research statistics. Was this actually a research topic? Maybe she could find a hunky professor willing to bend her over and…ohhh the possibilities. She started scrolling faster, trying to outrun the erotic images swimming in her head.

Spanking. Tied hand and foot. A man having complete power over her. Bending her, making her submit.

Taking care of her.

And there was the biggest attractant of all.

She sighed as she clicked through countless useless pages. Impatient, she typed in another series of search words.

Dominance. Control. Bondage.

At least these looked more promising. She scanned the topics and clicked on a few of the offerings. Her brow furrowed as she began reading about female submission.

Honestly, she’d never considered herself a submissive person. Yeah, she wanted a strong man. Someone who didn’t have to ask. Who was confidant enough to act. But did that make her submissive?

She wrinkled her nose. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to read up on it. At least then she’d have a better idea of how to find this elusive creature: the dominant male.

God, she made it sound like an endangered species. But in today’s world, she supposed they were. A dying breed. Emasculated by a politically correct society.

Great. Now that she’d figured out what she wanted in a man, she was going to discover there was no such animal.

She clicked until her finger was numb. Read well into the night, her eyes glued to both the fascinating and the downright bizarre. Honestly, she had no idea there were so many people out there who shared her desires, and certainly not so many women. But strangely, it didn’t make her feel any less isolated.

She heaved a sigh as her tired eyes perused yet another listing. Just as she was ready to give it up for the night, an ad on one of the pages caught her eyes.

She leaned closer. Houston. The address was Houston. For an exclusive, private, members-only club. “Specializing in themes of dominance, bondage and a variety of fetishes guaranteed to satisfy even the most discerning palate.”

One of her eyebrows went higher. Thought highly of themselves, apparently.

Intrigued, she clicked on the ad and was transferred to a surprisingly sophisticated website. Not your average trashy porn site high on shock value.

It was discreet, a website that could host a variety of different businesses. Subdued colors. Easy on the eyes. No pop-ups or flashing little boxes screaming that you just won an iPod.

Her pulse fluttered as she read on. Membership was exclusive and only open to a limited number each year. Security was a high priority, and the “club” wasn’t a flashy, neon-sign-bearing business in the heart of Houston’s downtown. Instead, it was a stately home in the northern outskirts of the city. Big wrought-iron gates. High security fences. No sign advertising what went on behind closed doors. Basically a meeting place for like-minded individuals.

She shivered. Could it be that easy? Somehow she doubted it. But where else was she going to start her search? Her cursor hovered over the telephone number listed on the site. She reached for the cordless phone she kept by the computer and punched the On button.

For several long seconds, she listened to the dial tone. When it started its obnoxious loud beeping to let her know it was still on and she wasn’t dialing, she turned it off and stared at the computer monitor.

Then she turned the phone back on. And off. And on. Cripes. What could possibly be so bad about calling the place? It wasn’t like they could reach through the phone, snatch her bald and leave her tied up and naked on the floor. Though, if the guy were hot enough, she might be up for it.

She touched the phone to her forehead and closed her eyes. Just do it, Faith. You just want information. They don’t even have to know your name.

Taking a deep breath, she punched the On button and quickly dialed the series of numbers. She put the phone to her ear and squeezed her eyes shut in dread. Maybe they wouldn’t answer.

Her stomach gave a painful lurch when a smooth male voice offered a greeting.

“Hello?” he said again when she didn’t respond right away.

“Uh, hello,” she offered, barely able to squeeze the words from her lips. “I was calling for some information. I mean, I saw your club, er uh, your establishment on the internet.”

“What’s your name?” the man asked cheerfully.

Damn. She guessed they would know her name after all.

“It’s Faith,” she said, not volunteering her last.

“Hi, Faith. My name is Damon, and I’ll be happy to answer whatever questions you may have.”

She relaxed a teeny bit. “Well, the thing is, you see, I’m not sure what questions to ask.”

“Ah. Okay then let me ask you a question.”

“Oh. Okay. I guess.”

“What is it you hope to find at our establishment?”

“Not much of a loaded question,” she muttered.

Damon chuckled. “Don’t be shy, Faith. There isn’t anything you could possibly say that would shock me. Or make me judge you. I can’t help you if you aren’t honest with me.”

Her mouth went dry. Moment of truth. How to tell a complete stranger what it was she was looking for when she wasn’t completely sure herself?

“I want…” She sucked in another deep breath and started over. “I want a man to take control. Take. Not ask. In all aspects. Not just sexually.” She broke off, but still Damon waited, as if sensing she wasn’t yet done. “I want to be taken care of,” she finished softly.

“You want to be dominated.”

The word still made her uncomfortable, but in essence, that was precisely what she wanted. So she muttered a low agreement.

“There’s no reason to feel shame for your desires,” Damon said gently. “A woman who knows who she is and what she wants is the most beautiful of creatures.”

The compliment brought a delighted smile to her face until she realized she was giddy over a phone call with a stranger who, for all she knew, could be getting his rocks off while listening to her fantasies.

She cringed at that mental image.

“Membership is very exclusive here and offered sparingly. If you like, you can set up an appointment time to come and tour our facility. Once you’ve seen what we have to offer, then you can make a decision as to whether you’d like to pursue membership within our confines.”

She swallowed the knot growing in her throat. “I’d like that.”

“Fair warning. If you come, you should know what you’re getting into. This won’t be a trip through the halls of the manor where you’ll look at empty rooms and unused furniture. You’ll come at our busiest time. And you’ll see all.”

Her eyes widened, and she wondered just what all she would see. Her heart did a strange pitter-patter, and she realized she was excited. Looking forward to the tour.

“When can we set it up?” she asked.

“I can show you around Friday starting at 11 P.M. Things tend to get started late around here. If you give me your e-mail address, I’ll send you detailed directions and the address.”

Faith supplied him her e-mail, and they confirmed her appointment time. She thanked him for the information, and they rang off. She dropped the phone on the desk and leaned back, puffing her cheeks out and blowing a long, hard breath.

Friday. Eleven o’clock. She let out a small groan. She had all week to do nothing but wonder about what she’d see.

She licked her lips nervously then smoothed a hand over her bubbling stomach. What the hell had she gotten herself into? And worse, she couldn’t wait to find out.

CHAPTER 4

“Hey, baby doll,” Micah Hudson said as he rounded the corner into Faith’s office.

She smiled as she put down the phone. “Hey, yourself.”

He flopped into the chair across from her desk, his long legs sprawling in front of him. Arching his hips up, he fished in his pocket before pulling out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. Seconds later, he shoved one end of the cigarette in his mouth and flicked his lighter.

She emitted a sigh just as he inhaled like a man drawing his last breath.

“Micah, what have I told you about smoking in my office?”

He flashed her a sexy grin and exhaled a long plume of smoke. “Come on, Faith. You know I’m trying to quit. Down to just a couple a day. Pop gives me hell, so I can’t smoke around him anymore. You’re my only safe haven.”

She rolled her eyes. “So because I’m a softy, I get to die from secondhand smoke inhalation.” She rummaged in her drawer for one of the old plastic ashtrays she kept on hand and shoved it across the desk at him. “At least use this so you don’t get ashes everywhere.”

He grinned at her and blew her a kiss as he reached for the ashtray. She shook her head. It should be a sin for any one man to be so damn sexy. Micah was a man clearly unused to being told no over anything, and with good reason. What woman could possibly stand her ground against his wicked charm?

“You’re the best.”

He tapped his cigarette against the ashtray then looked back up at her, his warm brown eyes questioning. Still holding his cigarette between his fingers, he reached up and tucked his unruly hair behind his ear. His diamond stud earring glittered as it was exposed to her view.

A lock of hair, upset by his impatient shove, fell forward over his brow. He thrust his free hand through his hair above his forehead, pulling it tight against his head in a backward motion. When he let it go, the loose curls flopped over his head once more. She grinned at the disheveled image he presented. Somehow he just made it work. Messy was sexy on him.

“What you got going on today? Have you met Gray Montgomery yet?”

She cursed the rush of heat that flooded her cheeks and hoped like hell her fair skin, so prone to blushing, hadn’t just given her away.

“Yeah, I met him yesterday. Showed him to his office.”

“And?”

“And what?” she asked, arching a brow at him.

“What did you think?”

“Uh, I didn’t think anything. He seems nice. Quiet. Maybe a little brooding. He should fit in well around here. He and Connor could be best friends forever.”

Micah burst out laughing. “Just what we need. One more brooding bastard.”

“Well, someone has to even things out. You and Nathan give poor Connor so much shit.”

“Well hell, someone has to. Nobody should be that serious.”

Faith cracked a small smile. Finally she started giggling and raised a hand to cover her mouth. “Okay, so he’s a little uptight.”

Micah snuffed his cigarette. “A little? You could bounce a quarter off his ass.”

“Whose ass are we talking about?” Nathan asked as he sauntered in.

“Uh, well, Micah seems to have developed a fetish over Connor’s ass,” Faith said innocently.

Micah flipped her the bird.

“Jesus, man, you been smoking again?” Nathan asked as he wrinkled his nose. “It smells like a damn bar in here.”

Faith heaved a sigh of exasperation and reached into her drawer for the air freshener. Both men coughed as she sprayed a cloud of the floral-scented spray.

“I wish you guys would get off my ass,” Micah grumbled. “I’m doing my best.”

“Yes, you are,” Faith said loyally. “But in the future, I wish you’d do your best outside my office.”

Nathan chuckled and shoved his hands into his pockets. His shaggy, light brown hair curled outward over his ears and flipped rebelliously at his neck. A goatee framed his mouth and chin. It was in need of a good trim. Green eyes, full of mirth, rested underneath a set of ridiculously long lashes. Lashes that Faith would kill to have. It was so not fair that eyes that gorgeous were wasted on a man.

“When are you going to get a haircut?” she asked.

Micah snickered.

Nathan ran a hand through his hair and looked at her in surprise. “What’s wrong with my hair? You don’t bug Micah about getting a haircut, and his is longer than mine.”

“Because he looks good with long hair. You don’t.”

“Ouch,” he grumbled, shooting Micah a resentful glare.

She shook her head. “I swear you both need a woman to keep you in line. And I wish you’d hurry up and find one so I can stop babysitting your asses.”

“Or you could just volunteer for the job full time,” Micah said, shooting her another sexy look. Damn the man.

“I don’t think John would appreciate you propositioning his woman,” Nathan said dryly.

Faith tensed for a minute and sat back in her chair. “Uh, about John.”

Two sets of curious gazes focused intently on her.

“Is something wrong, Faith?” Micah asked. All the teasing had dropped from his voice, and now he sat forward, his face drawn into complete and utter seriousness.

She’d forgotten how protective they could be. That was usually Connor’s job. As much as Micah and Nathan liked to tease, they still watched over her like a hawk.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” she said, injecting the right amount of lightness into her voice. “It’s just that John and I won’t be seeing each other anymore.”

Nathan raised his brow in silent question.

“Relax. It was my decision,” she said. “It just wasn’t working. And don’t you go interrogating him.”

Another blush worked its way up her neck. The last thing she wanted was John to share the reasons for their breakup with Micah and Nathan.

“And for God’s sake don’t tell Connor,” she muttered.

They both hooted with laughter.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Micah said, an evil gleam in his eye. “I won’t rat you out if you don’t rat me out for smoking.”

She blew out her breath in annoyance. “You’re such a manipulator.”

He grinned. “But you love me.”

She smiled. She couldn’t help it. “Yes, I love you. Now get out of my office. I’ve got work to do. And so do you two clowns.” She checked her watch. “Pop’s going to have a coronary if he finds out you’re both here and not out on the job.”

The phone rang, and her stomach fell. She reached over to pick up the receiver but hesitated, willing the sick nervousness to abate. When she noticed Micah and Nathan looking suspiciously at her, she swallowed and yanked up the phone.

“Malone’s.”

Pop’s gravelly voice barreled through the line. “Faith, tell those two lug nuts to get their asses out of your office and out to the job they’re supposed to be doing.”

She burst out laughing, her relief nearly overwhelming. “Good morning to you too.”

He chuckled in her ear. “Good morning. Things going okay at the office?”

“Sure thing. You going to be around for lunch?”

He sighed regretfully. “No, Connor, Gray and I will get something out. This security system is acting all wonky, so I think we’ll be here awhile.”

“Okay, Pop, I’ll see you when I see you then.”

They rang off, and she replaced the receiver, still chuckling.

“Yeah, yeah,” Micah grumbled as he shoved himself out of his seat. “I could hear Pop all the way over here. I swear he has this place bugged.”

Nathan laughed. “I wouldn’t put it past the old fart.”

They waved at Faith then trudged out of her office. Quiet descended over the building. She leaned way back in her chair and stared at the ceiling.

Three years. For three years she’d lived an idyllic life. At times it was hard to remember the years before Pop and Connor had come for her. Then Pop had adopted her. Yeah, sure, she was an adult. A woman full grown, but she’d burst into tears when he’d told her of his desire to adopt her and legally make her his daughter. It was the first true sense of belonging she’d experienced.

And now her circle had grown to Nathan and Micah. It was an atmosphere she was comfortable in. Finally at home. Now if only her mother would fall off the face of the earth.

She eyed the phone, willing it to stay silent.

With a sound of disgust, she whirled around in her chair and stood. She would not allow her mother to ruin her day, week, month…okay year.

She stalked out of her office and made her rounds to the other offices to collect outgoing mail. When she had a sizable pile, she lumped it onto her desk to wait for the mail carrier. Then she busied herself going over the new job contracts, flagging the ones that needed Pop’s signature.

At noon, she pulled out the lunch she’d brought from home and ate it while fielding phone calls from potential clients. Micah called to say he and Nathan wouldn’t be back into the office and would be working late. Then Pop called to tell her to go home early and that he’d lock up when he came through later in the afternoon.

She smiled as she hung up. Pop always seemed to know when she wasn’t her best. He never asked intrusive questions, but he worried over her just the same. That kind of unconditional love was comforting.

The phone rang again, and she picked it up, expecting to hear Pop again. He usually got sidetracked when he called and would forget what he’d called for in the first place. Which precipitated an immediate call back ninety percent of the time.

“Malone’s,” she said cheerfully, prepared to tease Pop.

“Faith, baby, we need to talk.”

Faith closed her eyes, and her lunch burned a hole in her stomach.

“Faith, are you there? I need to talk to you.”

“I’m here,” Faith said faintly.

“I need some money,” her mother said, forgoing her usual cajoling. “I’m in a bind, baby.”

“I can’t help you this time,” Faith gritted out. “I’d appreciate it if you would quit calling.”

A shocked silence fell between them. “Faith, you don’t mean that. I’m your mother. You can’t just cut me out of your life. I need your help. You can’t turn away from me. After all I’ve done for you.”

Rage curdled Faith’s system. Her vision blurred as the anger built. “All you’ve done for me? You’ve got a hell of a lot of nerve, Celia. What have you ever done for me? I’m happy now. I have a nice life. Without you. I can’t help you. I won’t help you. Not this time. Not ever again. Please don’t call me again.”

She slammed the phone down, her breath coming in ragged spurts. Her hands trembled, and she felt dangerously close to vomiting. She closed her mouth and sucked in deep breaths through her nose, willing the nausea to pass.

When her stomach settled, she surged up from her chair, making a grab for her keys and purse. She needed some air. Needed to get away before she succumbed to the urge to start throwing things.