Carrie's Answer (3 page)

Marcus wasn’t convinced, and at the moment it was all he could do to keep from climbing over the table and punching his best friend in the mouth, and then going over and mashing Jenner’s mouth, which was currently attached to Carrie’s knuckles and traveling up her arm.

“She knows what she wants.” Daniel’s voice lost its hint of mockery. “She knows why she wants it and is exploring her options. Brady accepted her application, so when she asked, I agreed to sponsor her.”

Marcus shook his head and walked away before he seriously hurt his best friend. What the hell had the man been thinking? Carrie in this place? She was too…too…innocent. That’s what she was, too damn innocent to know what she was doing.

He made his way straight to Carrie and Jenner’s table and stopped in front of them.

“Marcus, it’s good to see you,” the tall, brown-haired Dom acknowledged him.

Marcus’ eyes cut to the other man, currently rubbing the palm and playing with the fingers of
his
assistant.

“Excuse us,” Marcus said, gently removing her hand from Jenner’s and guiding her to her feet.

Jenner let go of her but raised a speculative brow at Marcus as he pulled her toward the door.

“Marcus, what are you doing?” Her startled cry didn’t slow his pace at all until they were outside and in the parking lot.

He started walking up and down the aisles of parked cars. His anger was off the charts and he didn’t trust himself to slow down and face her.

“Where is it?” he barked, pulling her down another row, trying to find her blue Dodge Intrepid.

“Where is what? What are you doing?” Carrie planted her feet, forcing him to stop or pull her to the ground.

“Where the hell did you park?”

She shook her arm loose. “I came with some friends.”

Marcus grunted. Yeah, some friends, bringing her into a meat market like this. It wasn’t safe for an untried woman like Carrie.

She may have talked a good game to Daniel, convincing him to sponsor her, but Marcus knew damn good and well she had no real clue what this lifestyle was like. He hauled her out of the parking lot and around to the back of the building.

“Quit manhandling me,” she cried.

Marcus froze where he stood. She thought this was rough treatment? He took her upper arms, walking her backward until her back touched the concrete wall. Her brown eyes widened, hopefully out of fear, but he wasn’t quite sure.

“Manhandling you?” His voice low, deep and dangerous, he watched as she trembled. “Carrie, where do you think you are exactly?”

She raised her chin a notch. “I know exactly where I am and frankly it’s none of your damn business.”

“Then you know that this doesn’t even come near to the ‘manhandling’ you’d get from one of the Doms inside.”

“Jeez, Marcus. How stupid do you think I am?” She shook her head at him pityingly. “The manhandling I’d get in there would be about ultimately feeling good, and it would be something I agreed to in advance. We’re not having sex here. You’re trying to intimidate me.” She snorted at his glowering expression. “Big difference, boss-man.”

Marcus’ chest heaved in frustration and shock. His cock hardened when she raised that small chin in defiance. And her sassy mouth was just begging to be silenced by his. At this moment he wanted nothing more than to shove her against the wall and show her what it really meant to be
manhandled
. All of his instincts screamed at him to take her now. The thought shook him to the core. It had been years since he’d had such an animal reaction to soft female skin.

“It’s time to go home. You don’t belong here.” He was getting her the hell out of here. No fucking way was Carrie staying another minute so some asshole could feel her up, or worse take her into one of the VIP suites. Hell, he needed her gone so that it wasn’t
him
taking her back to his suite and giving her exactly what she’d come here to discover.

Carrie placed her hands on Marcus’ solid chest and pushed hard. He stepped back and straightened, not touching her but still preventing her escape.

He exhaled, obviously trying to calm himself down. Maybe he realized that yelling at her wasn’t going to help.

“Carrie, it’s natural to be curious after the whole divorce thing and the media coverage, but that was so long ago. What do you hope to gain by coming here now?”

“This isn’t about you and your divorce. This is about me.”

His gray eyes turned stormy as he took a step forward. She pressed herself into the wall. He was altogether too close.

“Are you sure, Carrie? Are you sure you didn’t get just a little bit curious after all the stuff you heard and think it might be fun to experiment?” He inched even closer, his anger still present despite the softening of his voice.

“I know you stumbled on some things in my bathroom at the office. Is that the reason you’re here?” His hand traveled down her jaw as he made her face him.

“Tell me, did you fantasize about being tied to my big leather chair while I worked a toy deep inside you?” He traced a lazy path down her chin, past her neck. “I bet I could make you purr, drive you insane for my touch, my cock, my whip.”

Carrie’s face flamed. Oh shit, this was her boss talking to her like this. The one man whose touch, whose cock, whose whip she’d dreamed of. She should have been furious. If any other man had treated her this way, she would have been. Instead her thighs trembled as the images Marcus described flashed though her mind. She swallowed the moan threatening to break free.

“Marcus, you’re a horse’s ass, do you know that?” She was pleased her voice came out firm and strong. She was even more pleased when his eyes widened in surprise at her condemnation. He was a harsh man and people rarely ever disrespected him on any level.

“The world does not revolve around you and your penis. I came here because I wanted to. Do you think your need to dominate is any different than my need to…” She cut herself off. Okay, maybe she wasn’t as brave as she claimed. She wasn’t a complete stranger to this lifestyle. Her last lover, while not a Dom, had been very commanding and had shown her things she never dreamed she would like. She’d fantasized about taking it further, but he never pushed it and soon their time together had fizzled out.

This was her first time in this sort of club. She’d known Marcus came here and shouldn’t have been surprised to see him. What did throw her was his total overreaction to her presence. True, they were close as boss and employee. She knew things about his personal life and about him that probably no one else, even his brother or sister, knew. After ten years of working at Worthington, she was a valuable asset. Sadly, she realized that while she knew a lot about Marcus and his family, he knew next to nothing about her.

Marcus never asked, and Carrie never offered any information about her life outside of Worthington. He’d never looked at her as anything other than a trusted assistant who knew her job well and took care of the details.

That disinterest on his part had been one of the factors motivating her little field trip tonight. The realization that he’d never see her as anything but an efficient employee had convinced her that it was time to part company with her sexy, commanding boss.

Carrie knew it was time to get away from him. Whether she wanted to go back into the club or simply call a cab, she wasn’t sure, but it was definitely time to go.

Before she was able to turn and run, he had her pinned to the wall, his thigh between hers. Her skirt rode high as he grabbed both wrists roughly and held them over her head.

“Is this what you want?” he whispered in her ear. She shook as fire sizzled down her spine. “You want to be at a man’s mercy?” Marcus’ breath bathed her face, hot and damp and scented with liquor, his mouth a scant inch from her own. “At
my
mercy?”

His eyes blazed as they bored into hers.

“Do you want to feel my hand on your ass as you’re tied tightly to my bed and you’re unable to move?” He leaned his body into the cradle of her lower belly.

Her eyes widened as she felt the unmistakable outline of his very rigid cock through his pants.

“Answer me, Carrie. Do you dream of being stretched, toyed with, pushed beyond anything you have ever known to give your master the pleasure he demands?” His finger slid achingly, slowly down the front of her black satin blouse, traveling to her belly, where he made lazy circles above her hips.

She wanted to climb up his body, her boss, the one man she wasn’t able to get out of her head, and kiss him senseless. Marcus Worthington was front and center in all of her fantasies. Especially the ones he was describing now. His six-foot-two frame towered over her. He was fit and strong, the hard planes of his body plastered to her much softer ones. His black hair was tousled as though he’d just climbed out of bed, where she was sure he’d been not long ago. A sharp pain hit her in the middle of her chest as she imagined Marcus with another woman.

“Go home, Carrie.” He’d obviously taken her silence for denial. Or fear. “You’re in over your head here.”

“You bastard. You don’t get to tell me what to do. I’m not on company time.”

The glaze over Marcus’ eyes cleared and he jumped back as though he’d been burned. Without uttering another word, he grabbed her by the hand and dragged her to the VIP parking lot. Opening the back of his limo, he unceremoniously pushed Carrie inside. The doors locked behind her, and she couldn’t open them. After a moment, the partition glass lowered and an older gentleman looked back at her through the mirror.

“Where to, miss?”

“How about right here?”

“Can’t do that. The boss made it clear, I’m to take you home.”

Defeated, Carrie crossed her arms and rattled off her address.

Chapter Three

Marcus crumpled the neatly typed resignation letter into a tight ball, ready to throw it in the trash. Stopping, he reminded himself that he couldn’t destroy the letter, no matter how much he wanted to.

He smoothed out the single sheet as best he could. Carrie, his right hand for the last ten years, was leaving him.

She’d stood by him when his evil ex-wife divorced him, running interference and refusing to let any of the more vocal and judgmental riffraff anywhere near him. Karen had been out of his life as soon as the check he’d written was deposited into her bank account. Carrie, on the other hand, was more deeply entrenched than ever.

It had been easy to make Karen shut her mouth. She’d signed a nondisclosure agreement at their settlement hearing, and Marcus had given her enough money to ensure she would never have to work another day in her selfish life.

For a while it had left a black mark on him and the Worthington group. During that time, Carrie never judged him, never treated him any differently. On occasion, Marcus had even heard her coming to his defense with employees who felt they had the right to comment on his personal life.

He’d never commented on Karen’s accusations, some of which were true, most of which were not. The press had a field day though, branding him a pervert and deviant until the next scandal took the front pages. He was grateful for Carrie; she was his rock. He knew he could always count on her.

He’d fucked up Saturday night at the club and she’d made him pay for it every day this week. Now she was leaving the company, and more importantly leaving him behind. His stomach knotted at the mere thought of not seeing her big brown doe eyes every morning. He’d miss the sight of her generous ass twitching away from him in a huff whenever he disagreed with her.

Marcus smiled. He’d always been attracted to her, even before the divorce, but he wasn’t a cheat. He also had his own strict code about getting involved with employees. That belief had prevented him from acting on his impulses more than once where Carrie was concerned.

Finding her at Velvet Ice last Saturday had only made his fantasies that much hotter. Every night and a good part of every day since their confrontation at the back of the building, Marcus dreamed of following through on what he’d inadvertently triggered.

The absolute craving to have her, his way.

He ached to show her all the things she claimed she wanted, to make her feel so good, so satisfied. His cock jumped at the memory of her scent, vanilla and musk. Her very own aroma, signaling her arousal. The mere memory of her scent assaulted his senses and demanded that he claim her. He’d do anything to have that scent on his body, on his sheets.

He was crazy. After the number Karen did on him, he had no intention of getting serious ever again. Trust. His had been shattered by a woman who was supposed to have loved him. He’d never be able to give himself completely to another woman, and he was completely okay with that. But he wanted Carrie, and he wanted to be the one to train her. Not someone like Dorian Jenner. Jenner was a good enough guy but not good enough for Carrie.

The knot in his stomach expanded as he realized that she was no longer going to be his employee. Tapping his pen on the desk, he went over the possibilities that little fact might open up to him.

A plan began to take form and he felt nervous excitement for the first time in years. Anticipation crawled along his nerves as his wicked thoughts heated the blood flowing through his body.

She wanted to be a submissive? Then she would be
his
sub. He would train her, starting tonight and for as many nights as they could stand. Marcus knew deep down that any knowledge of submission Carrie had was peripheral at best. He wasn’t about to leave her fantasy to another male, one who may not have the same kind of ethics as Marcus did.

First, though, he needed to make sure she was open to the idea. That Carrie fully understood what it meant to be in his bed. There must be no doubt in her mind; her acceptance had to be one hundred percent. He’d been down the road of deception and betrayal with Karen, and he didn’t plan on ever going there again.

He and Carrie had a mutual attraction, Marcus was sure of that. Before the night at the club, he’d noticed how she watched him when she thought he wasn’t looking. How her nipples would tighten against her silk blouse when she stared at him too long. Her attraction was confirmed Saturday night. With his thigh wedged tight between hers, he’d felt her arousal hot and wet on his leg, her nipples stabbing into his chest, even her breathing had been ragged by the time he’d finished describing the things he could do to her.

He’d been afraid there would be strain between them after his performance and her reaction, and there was. She was always the consummate professional but it was there in her eyes: the uncertainly, the doubt and, he guessed, a little embarrassment to go along with it.

She’d put considerable distance between them all week. He felt it and it bothered him more than it should have. Now he knew why. He passed his hand over her resignation once more.

He wanted Carrie Anderson. He wanted her tied down, wet and panting for him to take her. He wanted her, face flushed, begging him to let her come and screaming his name when he finally did. Marcus didn’t know what being with Carrie would bring, but he wanted her enough to make the leap of faith it required to take her, to train her, to push this thing between them as far as it could go.

Carrie put the call to Meredith Worthington through, relaying the request for her to join her brother in his office in an hour. Meredith, as usual, was cool and professional.

Carrie had a soft spot in her heart for the woman. While she’d never been as forceful as Marcus or as outgoing as Matthew, Meredith possessed her own quiet charm, a warmth she’d showered on the few people allowed to get close to her. Carrie had considered her a friend, as much as an employer could be.

But Meredith had taken Marcus’ divorce and the subsequent media circus extremely hard. When the Worthington name was in shambles, Old Stirling unexpectedly dead, the controversy had affected all three siblings. But Meredith had taken it the worst, almost becoming a recluse, only going to work and home. It seemed such a lonely existence. Carrie had tried to comfort her once but Meredith blocked the attempt, telling Carrie she wouldn’t talk about family business with her or with anyone.

She’d held fast to that vow, not speaking to her older brother for almost two months, depending on Carrie to take messages back and forth. It had been a nightmarish time, and finally she told Meredith that she could no longer run interference between the siblings. Meredith apologized in that new, distant way of hers and began delivering her messages herself, but the relationship between brother and sister remained strained.

Carrie hit the intercom and told Marcus that his sister had confirmed their meeting. She swallowed hard as he asked her to come into his office. He’d read the letter she left on his desk earlier that morning. Two more weeks and she would no longer work here.

Carrie didn’t want to leave her position but she’d discovered she couldn’t work for Marcus anymore, not without her heart being broken. She loved this man more than anything, and watching him waste himself on an endless string of plastic beauty-queen wannabes was slowly sucking the life out of her.

She was no longer willing to make his dinner dates or send morning-after flowers. She couldn’t deal with fielding all the calls from the many women he dated. He changed them on a weekly basis but they were all the same. High society, rich and blonde. Willowy debutantes who wanted nothing more than to snatch a millionaire.

Oh, they knew how he liked sex. After the fact that he was a Dom was splashed across the tabloids, there wasn’t a person in the social or business circles of the city who didn’t know about it. The endless parade of women wanted to change him, make him happy having vanilla sex. Carrie wasn’t about to stick around and watch it continue. She couldn’t. Not after having a taste of that dark thrill herself. Not when she could still close her eyes and feel him pressed up against her, his cock throbbing against her as he breathed wicked words of desire and submission against her lips.

Taking a deep breath, she braced herself and stepped into her boss’s office.