ARROGANT PLAYBOY (61 page)

DANE

“Sleep well last night?” I bump
into Bellamy outside the elevator bay Friday morning.

“You’re cruel.”

She pushes past me, hoisting
her bag over her shoulder, but I take her by the wrist and pull her back. It’s
early yet. We’re the only ones here.

“You’re brave to speak to me in
that tone. You’re lucky I don’t take you over my knee right here.”

I pull her into me, locking her
into a hold.

And then everything changes.

She’s smiling.

Wearing the stupid grin of a
happy girl with sparkling eyes and looking at me like I’m the best thing that’s
ever happened to her. I release her, and her pretty beam fades.

“Have I redeemed myself yet?”
Her blue eyes widen, and she tugs her lower lip between her teeth.

She needs that sweet release,
the one I’ve been withholding all week. Her body begs for it as she wriggles
before me, hardly able to contain her fidgeting in my presence. I’m staring at
the human version of a cat in heat, and I’m the only one who can help her.

Like I said before, sex is
power.

I take her hand and lead her to
my office, and she locks the door behind us like a good sub.

“Tomorrow.” I release her and
take a seat on top of my desk, my hands gripping the ledge of the wood in order
to deter myself from gripping every womanly curve of her sinfully delicious
body. “Tomorrow, I’m hosting a party at Golden Oak. You’re to be at my side the
entire time.”

“What…kind of party?”

My arms cross, and I smirk.
“Don’t worry. It’s not a kink party it’s a gala. You’ll be dressed in an
evening gown and nothing that won’t reveal anything I’m not willing to share
with the rest of the world.”

“I’d ask why you’re springing
this on me at the last minute, but I’m sure it’s just another one of your
tests.”

“You know me well.”

“I’ll be there. I’m going to
have to sneak out. And I can’t stay the night.”

“You have to stay the night.”

Her jaw hangs. “It’s not that I
don’t want to. I’d love to.”

“I won’t pretend to completely
understand your particular situation at home, but I will say that overnight
travel will be a required part of this job in the very near future. At some
point, you’ll need to figure out a way to make it work.”

“I’ll plant the seed with my
parents next chance I get. You understand I can’t just spring something like
that on them.”

I reach for her and pull her
close, inhaling the scent of her clean hair. I’m not sure why I’m doing
it.
 
I’m not an affectionate man,
and I’m certainly not one to offer up romantic gestures willy-nilly. Maybe it’s
the tension I’ve created, and maybe in tormenting her, I’ve tormented myself as
well, but she’s fucking irresistible, and I can’t help myself not to touch her.

In less than forty-eight hours,
I’ll get my sweet release, and if she’s a good girl, she’ll get hers. I’ve
dreamt of plunging my cock deep into her pussy on a nightly basis since the day
I first saw her, and I’ll move Heaven and Earth to ensure it happens.

“I’m having a dress delivered
for you this afternoon,” I say.

“Is it small enough to slip
into my weekend bag?”

“No.” My palm rakes against her
back, falling lower and lower still until it reaches the gentle curve of her
ass and fills my hand with a firm squeeze. “I’ll bring it to Golden Oak. You
take care of your hair and makeup, and then you can slip into it as soon as you
arrive.”

“You’ve thought of everything,
haven’t you?”

“I told you, you’d never have
to worry about a thing, did I not?”

I leave her side and wander to
the other end of my desk, pulling out a drawer and handing her a red Cartier
box.

“Here,” I say. “A replacement
for the necklace you broke.”

 
She holds my gaze, frozen.

She hated that necklace. I’ve
never seen a woman tear off a Cartier diamond necklace like that before. And
amidst all the word vomit happening that particular day, I distinctly recall
her comparing it to an animal collar, which she heavily resented.

 
I crack open the box and present a pair
of champagne diamond earrings. Two warm, golden stones set in rose gold dance
in the natural sunlight. “Try them on.”

Bellamy’s hand glides over her
chest. “They’re beautiful, Dane. Thank you.”

“I know you hated the
necklace.”

“I did.”

She takes the box and removes a
diamond earring, cupping it in her palm and examining the facets and the way
they dance in her hand.

“These are still an item of
ownership,” I remind her. “But I hope this one will make you a little more
comfortable.”

“These I can do.” There she
goes with that smile again, the one that gives her rosy cheeks a faint glow and
sends a shimmer to her sky blues.

This isn’t good.

BELLAMY

My heart pounds hard in my
ears, the same ears donning an exquisite pair of champagne diamond earrings.

The house is asleep. It’s just
past ten. My father is sleeping at Kath’s tonight, and my sister and mother are
out cold. A soft glow from the light above the kitchen stove lights the path
down the stairs, and my keys are clenched tight in my hand, ensuring they don’t
make as much as a jingle.

I’m a vision of mascara and
lipstick, hair-sprayed hair, and Dane’s favorite perfume. Jeans and a t-shirt
hug my body now, but they’re only temporary. Within an hour, I’ll be squeezing
myself into the most elegant Italian silk dress I’ve ever laid eyes on.

I take the steps one at a time
and in slow motion, my sweaty palm slicking down the oak railing. When I make
it to the landing, I take a deep breath and tiptoe to the front door, pressing
my body weight into the lock in an attempt to muffle any clicking sound that
might echo through the quiet house.

A gentle snap and the careful
twisting of the knob precede my freedom, and I pull the door closed behind me
soft and slow. My heels click loud against the concrete of the front porch, and
I waste no time yanking them off and sprinting barefoot in the grass until I
get to the Land Rover.

As soon as I’m in, I press the
ignition, and it comes to life, purring like a sleepy kitten. I glance up at
the house one final time, ensuring it’s still as pitch black as it was when I
left it and press the HOME button on the GPS.

“Forty-six minutes until you
reach your destination,” the robotic woman’s voice informs me.

***

His road is dark and lined with
a canopy of thick, ancient oaks and smack dab in the middle of nowhere. I
spotted his estate from down the road, shining like some sort of beacon. A
lavish party is happening behind those walls, the kind of event I never
would’ve dreamt of being a part of in a million years.

I stop at the gate and press
the call button.

“Golden Oak,” a man says
through the speaker. “Name please?”

“Bellamy Miller.”

The black metal gates clink and
part, and I drive forward, pulling up to a two-story porte-cochere and parking
behind a white limo. A young man in a tuxedo runs to my door, opening it and
doing a double take when he sees I’m in jeans.

My cheeks flush hot. I don’t
think I’m supposed to come in this way.

“Is there another entrance?”

“
Mademoiselle
?” An older French woman in a gray dress comes out of
the shadows. “
Mademoiselle
Miller
?”

“Y-yes.” I point at myself.

“This way, please.”

She takes me by the crook of my
arm and pulls me to a side door, whisking me up a private set of stairs. The
faint lull of conversation mixed with laughter travels up the winding stairs.

“
Monsieur Townsend
is expecting you.” She smiles until her gaze
falls to my jeans and t-shirt.

I follow her to a grand suite
where my dress is hanging up against a tri-fold mirror.

“Anything you may need is in
the en suite bath,” she says, glancing at her watch. “Fifteen minutes. I’ll
wait out here and take you down.”

“Thank you,” I say. “What was
your name again?”

“Mathilde.”

“Thank you, Mathilde. I’ll be
just a minute.” I shut the door behind her and tear out of my clothes, careful
not to unravel the flawless chignon I managed to twist my hair into before I
left. A black lace thong and matching strapless bra rest in a pale pink box on
a tufted chair in the corner. I slip into those and step into the black evening
gown. A final spin in front of the mirror, and I’m ready.

When I pull the door open, I’m
not expecting to see Dane, but there he is.

“Oh. Hi.” I bite away a smile,
feeling my face flush from the way his eyes devour me from where he stands.

“I heard you were here,” he
says, pushing into the dressing room and shutting the door behind him. “I
couldn’t wait.”

“Who’s impatient now?”

“Watch the way you speak to me,
Bellamy.” He reaches behind me, giving my rear a pinch. “Did you forget who’s
doing the tying and cuffing tonight?”

“Are you threatening me,
Master?”

I’m flirting with my Master,
and I’m not even sure that’s allowed, but he’s letting me. Something about him
feels different lately. Our dynamic has shifted. He’s lighter around me,
shedding layers perhaps. I’m not sure he knows he’s doing it, but I’m not about
to point it out.

He leans in, nipping my
earlobe. The heat of his breath against my neck sends goose bumps down my arm
that travel a bit further and exacerbate the warmth that’s resided in my core
all week. The gentle scratch of the lace fabric against my cleft is torture,
but being pressed against a tuxedoed Dane who looks about three seconds from
ripping my dress off is even more so.

A knock at the door disrupts
our private party.

“
Monsieur
.” It’s Mathilde. “You’re needed downstairs. The caterers
would like a word with you, and Senator Harris would like to say goodbye before
he leaves.”

“A senator?” I ask. “What kind
of party is this again?”

“A charity gala.” He takes my
hand in his, leading me down the stairs like a debutant. Before we round the
corner to the final set of stairs, he turns to me and stops. “You look
beautiful tonight, Bellamy.”

“Thank you.” I reach for my
champagne earrings, twisting them.

“Tonight you’re my date,” he
says. “Stay next to me. You don’t need to walk behind me or hang your head.
Tonight you just need to be yourself.”

Dane brings the top of my hand
to his lips, offering a small kiss that only serves to reiterate that I’m a
classy lady tonight.

We float down the stairs hand
in hand, all eyes on us the moment we hit the landing. A pianist plays on a
polished Steinway in the corner, and I instantly recognize Chopin’s
Nocturne 20
.

“Chopin,” I say with a happy
sigh.

“You like Chopin?” A server
with a tray of champagne passes, pausing before us long enough for Dane to grab
two flutes.

“I don’t like. I love.” Growing
up, our music options were always relegated to classical or Christian. Chopin
was my Nirvana. My musical escape.

Everything about this night has
my name on it.

“Your drink of choice, if I
remember correctly,” he teases, handing me a flute.

“Thank you.” I lift it toward
him before taking a sip, my gaze traveling toward the haunting tune coming from
the back of the grand piano.

“Do you play?” he asks.

“My sister does,” I say. “I
took vocal lessons. She took piano.”

“Dane, thank you for the
entertainment tonight.” A burly man with gray-flecked temples pats Dane on the
back.

“Senator Harris,” Dane says.
“Thank you for coming. Your donation is much appreciated. As is your support.”

“He does good work, this one.”
Senator Harris grips Dane’s shoulder tight, flashing a politician’s toothy grin
and letting his paw fall. A round-faced woman in an emerald evening gown smiles
from behind him. She must be his wife. I offer her a knowing wink and a nod,
from one date to another, and she returns my gesture with a smile.

I lift the flute to my lips,
pulling in a careful sip that doesn’t smudge my lipstick. “So what’s this
charity? What kind of work do you do?”

He studies my expression and
lowers his drink. “I sponsor lost boys.”

“Lost boys…” I glance around
the grand hall. “Like the boys who get kicked out of FLDS compounds when
they’re teenagers?”

I’ve heard a handful of tragic
stories, mostly involving teenage boys being edged out of fundamentalist
communities by corrupt elders bent on skewing the male to female ratio.

“Exactly.” He places his hand
on the small of my back.

“That’s an interesting charity
to adopt,” I say. “What made you want to get involved with lost boys?”

He clears his throat, his gaze
scanning the room before returning to me.

“Because I was one.”