ARROGANT PLAYBOY (60 page)

“What’s your point?”

“One phone call, Cortland. One
phone call is all it would take for your father’s little empire to come
crumbling down.” I fold my arms. “There goes your father’s business, your job,
your brothers’ jobs, and your family’s livelihood.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Am I, Cortland? Because I have
to ask, are
you
crazy enough to
destroy everything your father has ever worked for because you’re a spoiled lap
dog refusing to release his toy?”

His mouth parts but nothing
comes out. He shakes his head and glances out the window. I’d assume he’s
trying to gather his thoughts, but I’m certain his head is full of mostly dead
space and memorized You-Porn videos.

“I want to see her. I want to
hear her tell me she doesn’t want to be with me. I’m not going to be broken up
with by some arrogant asshole in a three-piece suit who walks around like he’s
better than everyone.”

“I
am
better than everyone.” I flash a wolfish grin. “That’s the
kicker. I’m better than you. I’m better than 99.9% of the men out there. And
that’s what makes me better appointed for someone like Bellamy. She deserves a
real man. Not some idiot flinging threats like a monkey throwing feces in his
cage.”

“You’re something else.”
Cortland hangs his head, and I’m not quite sure why he hasn’t fled the building
yet.

Does he really think he’s going
to win this argument?

“This discussion is over,
Cortland. You and Bellamy are done. You will say nothing to her parents about
her or anything you think she has or hasn’t done. You’re never to contact her
again, and if I hear you so much as
thought
about trying to contact her again, I’ll make my phone call.”

“You don’t scare me.”

“Then you’re a goddamned
moron.” I lean forward, picking up the receiver on Bellamy’s phone and dialing
831 for building security. “I suggest you leave now, because if you don’t, I’ll
be more than happy to have you escorted off the premises in handcuffs.”

Cortland licks his lips,
glaring at me. I’m sure he’d love nothing more than to spit in my face, and
part of me wishes he’d pull something because I’m craving a physical release
something fierce.

“Five seconds, Cortland.” My
fist clenches at my side, aching and restrained.

He hesitates before shaking his
head, his laser stare never leaving me until he brushes past me. Fortunately
for him, our shoulders didn’t graze, or we’d have had ourselves a good,
old-fashioned sparring and not of the gentleman variety.

“Gary, you there?” I speak into
the receiver to the security guard. “Make sure Cortland McGregor exits the
premises. And he’s not allowed in this building again. Blacklist him.”

After a careful inspection of
Bellamy’s things, I ensure nothing has been taken or moved out of place before
heading back to my office.

“Where’d you go?” she asks,
stepping out of the bathroom and wrapped in a fluffy towel. Her creamy skin
glistens, and it takes everything I have not to gnaw on my knuckles as I feast
on her elegance. Her bare feet graze the carpet before she rises on her tip
toes, leaning against the doorway and flashing a devilish smile.

“Took care of some business.” I
straighten the knot of my tie and take a seat at my desk, refusing to let her
out of my sight because a freshly showered beauty is the most exquisite thing
in the world. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

“If you’re not too busy being
all mysterious,” she says, sauntering toward me and bending to pick her clothes
off the floor, “would you mind letting me know if I could get dressed? Please?”

“How do we ask?”

“Please, Master, may I get
dressed?”

“You may.” I yank a drawer open
and pull out two tiny clamps. “But first.”

“What are those?”

“They’re for you to wear,” I
say, eyeing the pointed peaks of her round breasts.

Her eyes grow wide. “They look
painful.”

“My goal isn’t to hurt you,
Bellamy. We’ve gone over this before.” I wait for her safeword, which never
comes, so I squeeze the clamps over her soft pink buds. They spring awake once
more. Lucky for her these are meant for novices, beginners. They’re not
painful, just stimulating. “You’re to wear these under your clothes until five
o’clock tonight. They’re inconspicuous, so no one will know they’re there.
Except for you. You’ll notice them at all times, and you’re to imagine I’m
touching you. And by the end of the day, you’ll wish I was touching you, but
sadly for you, I have to attend a dinner with my brother and Odessa since they’re
flying home in the morning.”

She pouts her bottom lip and
promptly winces.

“How do you feel, Angel?”

“Tender. Sensitive.” Her
fingertips trace the plastic clamps lightly. “But in a good way.”

“Perfect.”

“You’ll return them to me
before you leave for the day,” I say, standing and grabbing a nearby portfolio.
“I’m going to run a few errands, and then I’ve got a presentation to give at
the local energy co-op.”

Tugging her bra into place, she
stops when the lace cups catch the clamps. Bellamy winces. “You’re just going
to leave me all day? Like this?”

I place the portfolio aside and
strut up to her, dragging my hands down the sides of her bare arms to get one
last touch before she’s covered up again. My lips warm at the thought of
kissing her ruby pout before I go, but I won’t.

She needs to want it, and she
needs to want it now. It’s part of her punishment. I spent the better part of a
week and a half craving her, fantasizing about all the things I wanted to do to
her. It all came to a peak just before the night I was to finally take her as
mine. The rug was swept out.

My punishments always fit the
crime, and in this case. Bellamy is going to want me, no need me, more than
she’s ever needed anything in her young adult life…

Because last weekend, that’s how
badly I needed her.

BELLAMY

They say it’s not the package
that counts but what’s inside.

And that’s precisely why my
heart jumps into my throat when I pull out the weird, c-shaped, rubberized toy
Dane gifted me on his way out of the office today.

Monday it was the nipple
clamps.

Tuesday it was an hour in a
chastity device while he tickled and teased every part of me without so much as
going near the fiery furnace between my thighs.

Wednesday it was the elaborate
restraint system that held me spread eagle while he examined every part of my
body, describing it in the most sexually stimulating way he possibly could, and
then proceeding to explain, in detail, what he would do to me if I weren’t
still on punishment.

Today, it’s this contraption…

A wireless vibrator controlled
only by him.

He’s been screwing my mind all
week, but this feels like a move in the right direction.

Finally.

I’m to insert it the moment I
get the text tonight, and he’s going to tease me from wherever he happens to be
at that time. The caveat? I’m still not allowed to orgasm.

I shove the box under my bed
and tuck it behind a group of empty shoes boxes. I would absolutely die if
anyone in this household happened to see this. My only hope is that the thing
is quiet, because this is an old house, and these walls are paper-thin.

The clock reads seven, which
means it’s time to help get the younger kids to bed. I hop down the hall and
take the stairs two at a time until I land in the family room and promptly help
my mothers pick up puzzle pieces and Legos while the kids pretend like they’re
doing the work.

I
know that trick…

“It’s so weird not seeing
Cortland this week.” My mother bends to reach for a stuffed rabbit and tucks it
under her arm. “Have you heard from him, Bellamy?”

“I haven’t. He’s probably busy
working.”

The truth is, I have absolutely
no clue what happened.

It’s bizarre.

I thought it was odd he wasn’t
here after work on Monday, but I let it go thinking he’d text or call me like
he always does. And Tuesday, when I came home, I fully expected his car to be
parked out front but it wasn’t. By Wednesday, my father was beginning to get
worried, so I put on a good face and called Cortland, leaving a sweet voicemail
when he didn’t answer. He wasn’t even at Bible study that night.

But today? Thursday? Still
nothing.

Not that I’m complaining.

I’m jumping for joy on the
inside, praising destiny and karma and whoever else had a role in removing
Cortland McGregor from my life.

“Something’s up. I can feel
it.” Summer dumps a handful of Legos into a plastic tote and snaps the lid.
She’s always claiming she’s sensitive or something, like she can predict the
weather or the outcome of a baseball game. My father would scold her if she
ever said she was psychic. We’re not allowed to talk about anything in this
house that the Bible condemns. “I mean, a man just doesn’t turn cold. Something
happened. Are you sure you two didn’t have a falling out? You seemed a little
distant on Saturday when his family was here.”

Oh,
so it’s automatically my fault?

“Oh, yeah? I thought everything
went well. I had a great time,” I lie. “Maybe he’s traveling for work this
week. Or maybe he changed his mind or met someone else. It could be anything.
I’m not going to stress about it.”

“I might have your father give
Walter a call to find out what’s going on,” Mom says, chucking a velveteen
rabbit into a basket of animal stuffed orphans in the corner.

“That’s not necessary.” My face
pinches and I swat her offer away. “We’re adults. We’ll figure it out. Plenty
of fish in the sea.”

Maybe I should be moping around
like some heartbroken princess, but I couldn’t hide my relief if I tried so I’m
taking the calm and cool approach.

“You were so crazy about him,
Bellamy,” Kath sighs from across the room. “I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

Trust
me, ladies. That’s one thing you will not need to worry about.

“Can we not talk about this?
You guys are stressing me out.” I turn my back to them so they won’t see the
enormous grin consuming my face.

“Yes, yes,” Summer says. “We’ll
drop it for now and think positive thoughts. And if he’s not the one for you, I
just know we’ll find you someone even better. Your father has all kinds of
connections, and you’re a
very
eligible bachelorette in our ward.”

“Come on, guys. I’ll help you
pick out your pajamas,” I grab two of the younger kids by the hand and take
them to the house next door.

By the time the house is
asleep, I settle into my room and lock the door, paging through a contraband
copy of Cosmo magazine while I wait for my text.

Fifty-Three
Ways to Please Your Man Tonight…

How
to Have Multiple Orgasms…

Be
the Best He’s Ever Had…

I check my phone and ensure I
haven’t missed any text messages. Releasing a yawn, I type up a text.

I’M
GETTING TIRED. ARE WE STILL ON FOR TONIGHT?

The phone rests face down on my
chest as I wait for his response and return to the pages of my magazine and
learn about moves and positions I never knew were possible.

My phone buzzes, though it may
as well send an electric shock straight through to my heart.

YOU
SOUND IMPATIENT.

I smile and fire one back.

IMPATIENT.
NEEDY. DESPERATE. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?

He replies ten seconds later.

MORE
THAN YOU COULD POSSIBLY KNOW
.

I zip a quick “What are you
waiting for?” back and wait. A moment later, something begins to vibrate, but
it’s not my phone. It sounds muffled. Distant.

Oh, yeah.

It’s under my bed.

I fly off, practically landing
on my knees and yanking out boxes until I get to the one containing my happy
little friend, but by the time I pull it out, it stops vibrating.

I fire off a text.

THAT’S
NOT FAIR. YOU DIDN’T TELL ME TO START YET.

My phone lights up. He’s
calling.

He never calls.

He knows not to.

I press the green ‘answer’
button and duck under two blankets and a pillow.

“Why are you calling?” I
whisper.

“To see if you’d answer.”

“You know I can’t talk,” I
whisper again.

“Fine. Don’t talk. But I want
to listen so I can be sure.”

“Sure about what?”

“That you don’t come without
permission.”

“You don’t trust me yet, do
you?” I roll to my side and slip the c-shaped toy between my folds and slip the
tip inside. I could release myself right now if I tried. Everything he’s done
to me all week has stacked up, layers upon layers, building with an unbearable
intensity.

“Of course not,” he replies.
“Are you ready?”

“Yes, Master.” I giggle and
then clamp my hand over my mouth. If anyone catches me, I’ll be a dead woman.
Thick, cherry heat warms my cheeks at the mere thought of getting caught. I
whisper, “I’m not talking again after this. I can’t, Dane. I really can’t.”

“Quiet,” he purrs. The gadget
vibrates on low, slowly teasing me. A quick pulse on high is all I get before
it simmers back down again. “Did you like that, Angel?”

I don’t answer. I don’t need
to.

He ramps it up higher. Two
seconds. Then it stops completely.

My lower back arches, bucking
against the nothingness I wish so desperately was something substantial. I’m
positive if I humped my sheets right now I’d come.

“Here we go, Bellamy.” His low
voice tickles my eardrum through the phone and lights my nerve-endings on fire.
The device buzzes inside me, steady, constant, just enough but not nearly
enough at the same time.

I want more.

I
need
more.

The gadget makes a soft buzzing
sound under my blankets. The wall behind me is the bathroom and the wall in
front of me is my parents’ room. My desperation temporarily renders the fear of
getting caught null and void.

My legs part, separating wide
and grinding against thin air. I offer him not a single moan, and I fight each
and every whimper. All he gets to hear is my breathing, which I’m quite sure
he’s using to gauge how close I am. Knowing Dane, he wants to take me to that
place just before the edge and then bring me right back just as tortured and
unsatisfied as I was when we started.

The bottom of my tongue slides
across my lower lip as the build-up intensifies. If he doesn’t stop soon, I
don’t know if I’ll be able to control this…

Dane blows a satisfied breath
into the phone. “And we’re done now. Goodnight, Bellamy.”

The device stops cold, and the
call ends.

I can’t take another day of
this. It ends tomorrow. No more edge play.

I’m desperate to come, and I’ll
do whatever it takes.