ARROGANT PLAYBOY (64 page)

Read ARROGANT PLAYBOY Online

Authors: Winter Renshaw

BOOK: ARROGANT PLAYBOY
4.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
TWENTY-SEVEN
 
 

DANE

 

“What’d you do?”

Bellamy waits for me outside
the elevators first thing Thursday morning.

I grip my briefcase and step
off. “I’m going to need you to be more specific.”

She’s smiling, so at least
there’s that. “I went to Bible study last night. Cortland wouldn’t say a word
to me. Literally. Not a single word. He was a freaking mime. I’ve never seen
him that way.”

I square my jaw. “Weird. Maybe
he changed his mind about you? People do that, you know. One minute they’re
obsessed and the next minute they discard you like yesterday’s trash.”

“No, no.” She walks in step
with me, her words hurried and excited. “Something had to have happened. He
wouldn’t just do this.”

“Are you upset?” I unlock the main
doors and let her through first. “Heartbroken?”

“Hardly.” Her voice has a
slight squeal to it, and she hasn’t ceased to smile since the second the doors
parted and I saw her standing there in her waist-cinching pencil skirt and the
red heels she knows I like on her. “This is the best thing that could’ve
possibly happened.”

“Maybe a bit of an
overstatement.” I lead her down the hall to our offices. “But I understand what
you’re saying.”

“I know it was you.”

I stop, staring ahead at my
door, my key pressing an indentation into my fist. If I tell her I helped her,
she might get the wrong idea. The last thing I need is for her feeling like I’m
some jealous boyfriend when all I ever wanted to do was the proper thing. A
woman being harassed and coerced by a jackass like Cortland McGregor called for
a slight intervention. The stars aligned. Opportunity knocked. I simply
answered.

“I’m not sure what you’re
talking about.” I slide my key into the lock and twist it.

“Thank you, Dane.”

***

I don’t trust myself to fuck
Bellamy this week.

Not after last weekend.

Not after I accidentally made
love to her.

That’s exactly what it was too.

I could spew all the lies and
bullshit about going easy on her and taking her virginity and not wanting to
ruin her first time, but the fact of the matter is, I made love to her.

I tasted her arousal. I
caressed her flesh. I claimed those cherry lips. I plunged myself into her with
an animalistic hunger I’d only ever experienced once before.

It can’t happen again.

End of story.

TWENTY-EIGHT
 
 

BELLAMY

 

“Dane’s looking for you.”
Brenna peeks her head into the filing room where I’m seated on the ground
organizing an enormous stack of paperwork Marlene handed me the second I asked
if she needed help with anything.

Lesson
learned.

“He’s back?” I climb up, heart
racing. I’d looked for him earlier, but his office was empty. He must’ve left
without saying anything to anyone because even Marlene had no clue where he
went. “Tell him I’ll be right there.”

I brush the carpet fibers from
my knees and strut down the hall, stopping when I see him standing outside my
office. His face is twisted, pained almost, like a wince, but not a physical
wince, it’s more emotional.

He opens my door, ushering me
in, and locks it behind us.

Dane lunges for me, his fingers
yanking the hem of my blouse out of my skirt. “Who am I to you?”

I giggle, but not because I’m
trying to be cute. “What? Why are you acting like–”

“Answer the question.” He yanks
my top over my head before pressing his mouth into the flesh of my neck. His
teeth nip my skin before his lips pull my flesh between them. The fiery sting
tells me it’s going to leave a mark.

Dane spins me around, placing
my hands behind my back and wrapping the shirt around them, tying it tight. He
bends me over my desk, his hands gripping the back of my hips.

“Who owns you?” He leans over
me, the heat of his words warming my bare back. His fingers tug at my skirt,
inching the fabric up until my thong-covered ass is exposed. He snaps the band
of my panties, sending a sting rivaled only by the slap he gives my exposed
cheek.

“You,” I say, my cheek pressed
against the cool wood of my desk. “You own me.”

“And what am I?”

“My master.”

His hips press into me, and the
outline of his erection rubs against my bare flesh. The faint clink of his belt
followed by the quick zing of his zipper sends a warmth between my legs before
I have time to process what’s happening.

The crinkle of a foil packet
precedes the pressure behind me, as Dane presses his cock into me with one swift
insertion. His thrusts are angry. Fast and prompt, like he’s got somewhere to
be. With my hands still tied, Dane takes me.

He doesn’t speak.

He barely breathes and he
certainly doesn’t touch me more than he has to.

This is nothing like Saturday
night.

Pressure builds between my legs
thanks to the hot friction, but I know he’s going to finish soon. This isn’t
about me. This is about him. And I get it. That’s how it’s supposed to be. I’m
here to serve him, to pleasure him. I’m on the payroll solely for that purpose.

I just thought…maybe…things
would be different after that first night.

Dane lets out a bottled groan
and falls over me, pinning me to the desk for a moment before pulling out. He
unties my wrists and places my shirt on the chair beside us.

He made his point.

It’s just sex. That’s all it
was ever supposed to be.

***

“I’ve been asked to do some
traveling for work,” I say Saturday morning as I help my mothers prep
breakfast.

“What kind of traveling?” Mom
asks.

“Overnight traveling. Mostly
going to different conferences in different cities to help set up or man booths
and tables. Represent the company. Stuff like that,” I say, whisking a dozen
eggs in a mammoth bowl.

“You’ll have to take that up
with your father,” Summer says. “Now that Cortland’s out of the picture, he
might think of you as a woman on the prowl.”

I laugh. On the inside. On the
outside I pout. “Can we not talk about him?”

I’ve been pretending to be sad
since Wednesday when I returned from Bible study and promptly informed my
parents that Cortland had officially ended our courtship for reasons I refused
to discuss. When Waverly attempted to come to my rescue later that night, she
came armed with a box of tissues and a mug of hot cocoa. I thanked her and made
her swear up, down, and sideways never to breathe his name around me so long as
she lives. I convinced her I was so heartbroken that his name should never be
spoken around me, and I asked her to spread the word to the rest of the Miller
clan.

“Yes, Bellamy,” Mom says.
“That’s the last you’ll hear us mention him. I promise. But you will need to
discuss the work travel situation with your dad.”

“Where’s Kath?” I glance
around, making sure she wasn’t standing quietly in a corner somewhere. She has a
tendency to blend in like wallpaper sometimes.

Mom takes a break from chopping
green peppers, her eyes lowering. “She’s dealing with a bit of an issue right
now.”

Summer shoots her a look. “I
thought we weren’t going to say anything until we had all the details?”

Mom swats her away. “The cat’s
out of the bag, Summer.”

“Is someone going to tell me?”

“Kath has a son,” Mom says.
“His name is Jensen. He’s eighteen. He’d been living in Arizona with his father
for the last decade or so, and he’s gotten into a bit of trouble. Apparently
there was a physical altercation between Jensen and his father, and now
Jensen’s coming to live with us so he can finish out his senior year.”

“He’s coming tomorrow,” Summer
says. “Kath’s a nervous wreck about it, so don’t say anything. We’re going to
help her get her house in order and talk her down from the ledge.”

“Why’s she so nervous? He’s her
son?” I ask.

“Asking why Kath is nervous
about something is like asking why the sky is blue. It just is.” Mom shakes her
head, chopping peppers with satisfying cracks of her knife and exchanging
knowing smiles with Summer.

“You’ll meet him at breakfast
Monday,” Summer says. “Just make him feel at home, Bellamy. He’s family.”

***

“I guess he was beaten up
pretty badly,” I say to Waverly the following Monday as I stir scrambled eggs
over the stove. “Don’t stare or anything.”

“What happened?” she asks,
placing a pitcher of orange juice on the table.

“It’s none of our concern,” Mom
says.

“You’re going to burn those,”
Waverly says. “You know how Dad gets about his eggs not being fluffy.”

I sigh, clicking off the stove.
I suppose my mind is elsewhere today. Maybe there was a time when I might be
excited to see some fresh blood around here, but not now. My foot’s already
halfway out the door. Pretty soon, none of this will concern me. I’ll be
one-hundred percent independent. Making it on my own. Answering to no one.

Dane lingers in the forefront
of my mind, where he seems to spend a lot of time lately. I’m enjoying my
secret second life more than I ever thought I would. It doesn’t even feel like
work anymore.

Dane Townsend is quite possibly
the only man on earth who can make the act of submitting intensely pleasurable.

I sprinkle some dill into the
eggs and scrape them into a serving bowl while Waverly sets the table. Dad’s at
the head of the table, squinting at the fine print of the newspaper in his
hand. He’s a willful forty-eight-year-old man, refusing to wear reading glasses
despite three wives who gently nag him about it.

Mom squeezes an extra chair at
the end of the table for Jensen.

“Sorry we’re late.” Kath ushers
her twins in. “Everyone, this is Jensen.”

Jensen looks nothing like Kath.
He’s dark. Brooding. His muscles press against his tight t-shirt and his left
eye is black and blue. He’s not the kind of guy I’d ever want to cross, but the
way the corners of his mouth seem to be permanently upturned in the shape of a
half-smirk make him slightly less intimidating.

He zeroes in on Waverly, and I
catch her squirm. She’s super inexperienced in the dating department,
naturally, and she’s not used to being around many other guys our age.

Especially dark, handsome ones
with muscles for days and a “don’t give a fuck” attitude.

Jensen grabs a chair and plops
down, still watching Waverly. I think he likes the way he makes her squirm from
across the table.

Dad folds his paper. “Good
morning, Jensen.”

Jensen nods, not returning my
father’s greeting which I have to admit is ballsy. I take my phone from my
pocket and check it under the table, half-ignoring Waverly fumbling with her
empty orange juice cup and Jensen topping it off. The guy oozes sex, which is a
bit disconcerting for an eighteen-year-old. He could be bad for Waverly, but I
have faith that she’ll remember he’s our stepbrother and not some prospective
distraction.

She’s done so well. Graduation
is weeks away. College is in three months. There’s no way she’s going to risk
any of that for a bad boy with frivolous intentions.

I tune out the conversation,
typing up a quick text to Dane, asking how New York was despite the fact that
I’ll see him in an hour. Part of me doesn’t expect him to respond. We’re not
friends. I have no business sending casual texts like this. But the other part
of me genuinely cares about what he’s doing right now.

I wish I could’ve gone with
him. I’m sure he’s stayed at some fancy hotel with a balcony that overlooks the
Hudson River. He could’ve bent me over that railing, and I’d have loved every
second of it.

My cheeks redden as I realize
I’m thinking about screwing my boss while my family is eating breakfast and
discussing benign topics. My thoughts don’t have a place in the here and now,
but I’m not quite sure how to turn them off.

Besides, even if I could turn
them off, I don’t think I’d want to.

Dane Townsend is my escape in
every sense of the word.

 
TWENTY-NINE
 
 

DANE

 

Six weeks.

That’s how long Bellamy has
been my submissive now.

I haven’t made love to her
since the first night, but I’ve fucked the hell out of her on a weekly basis
since then. She’s usually tied up, facing away from me. I can’t look into her
eyes when I’m plunging inside her. It messes me up. Makes the whole thing feel
deeper than it should.

The discipline is waning as she
learns exactly how to maneuver around me, what to say, and ways to anticipate
my needs.

Bellamy Miller officially lives
to serve me, and I should feel guilty handcrafting my perfect sub out of
someone so green and naïve, but when I hear that exquisite, peaked breath as I
gift her a sweet release, I know she’s just as satisfied with this arrangement
as I am.

And so it shall continue.

“You’re coming to Nashville
with me.” I stay to her that particular Monday, leaning in her doorway.

She glances away from her
computer where she’s actually doing work now. I give her assignments, tedious,
mind-numbing assignments everyone else claims to be too busy to complete, and
she does them without so much as a single complaint. She even thanks me for the
work and finishes most tasks on time if not exceptionally early.

I couldn’t have asked for a
better hybrid employee.

“Nashville?” she glances at her
calendar. “Oh, the conference. It’s next weekend.”

“Yes.”

Her jaw slacks. “Oh. Um. I’ll
have to figure out a way to tell my parents, but yeah. Okay. I’ll go.”

“Like you had a choice.”

She smiles, dipping her chin
but keeping her focus on me. She’s looking at me like that again. There may not
be love between us, but she’s smitten. I know that much.

All I have to do is keep her at
a distance. That should prevent this perfect arrangement from becoming null and
void, ruined and soiled. With equal parts sex and love-free commitment and
dedication, we should be able to keep this going for as long as we both would
like.

“I’ve never flown before,” she
says.

“I’ll ensure the private jet is
stocked with champagne.”

She tilts her head, smiling.

“This Friday, Bellamy, I’m
taking you out on the town.” A spark ignites in her eyes though I pretend not
to notice. “I’ll have a dress sent sometime this week, and I’ll have Marlene
book your appointments at Bellisima Spa.”

“Thank you.” Her fingers trace
her lips, camouflaging a smile. “Looking forward to it.”

It might be dangerous to take
her out on a date at this point when we’re dancing along the razor’s edge. But
she deserves it. She’s a good sub who doesn’t complain, doesn’t ask for
anything, and rarely steps out of line.

Rewarding her good behavior is
just as important as reprimanding her when she misbehaves.

“Dane?” she calls after me as I
step away.

“Yes?”

“Do you want to get lunch
today? I always eat alone, and it’d be fun to get out of the office for a
change.”

This is going to hurt me just
as much as it’s going to hurt her, but it’s just the way it has to be.

“It’s not a good idea,
Bellamy.”

I leave before I have a chance
to watch her face fall.

Other books

TheBillionairesPilot by Suzanne Graham
Keystones: Altered Destinies by Alexander McKinney
Fire! Fire! by Stuart Hill
Jenna Petersen - [Lady Spies] by Seduction Is Forever
Stewards of the Flame by Engdahl, Sylvia
The Haunting of Brier Rose by Simpson, Patricia
Stay With Me by Sharla Lovelace