Authors: Laura Bailey
Bound and gagged, she looked extremely appealing to the most animal of urges that had started running through him at the sight of her, but he hadn’t done it for that reason.
“Now. I can talk without your constant interruptions. I need you to listen very carefully. The police came to my office two days ago, asking about the disappearance of Mark Chambers.”
Despite the uncomfortable position she was in, her eyes widened in concern.
“I guess they are asking all his known associates, and given my membership of the Club, that would include me. It’s very possible that they have re-traced his last movements, and given how well known he was in D.C., many people in that coffee shop could have known or recognised him, because of the location that it was in. He would also have been seen with you at the Club, on two occasions. There’s also a small matter of me shooting one of his hired mercenaries who Chambers had sent to kill me.”
She had not known about this last part.
“I only shot him in the leg, but now he’s free to talk. I can’t see him having any loyalty to a dead boss; that type would have allegiance only to money or the threat of prison. If the cops find out about him, he’ll talk just to evade any charges hanging over him, and the profession he is in, he won’t have a clean record. The police will lean on him.”
He paused, considering how to tell her the rest.
“I don’t know if you are aware, but the U.S. has an extradition treaty with the U.K. Whilst the evidence would be circumstantial at best; they won’t find Chambers body, but they can still charge people with murder without a body. The police would have come to you in London. You have no experience of interrogation techniques do you? Just one wrong word Tara and you will send me to jail for a life sentence.”
As he said it, he couldn’t have looked more menacing, and she saw him for the fearsome man he could be. Instantly she thought of her plan to drop him in it. He would make a terrifying enemy. She feared he could even read her thoughts and a chill ran through her.
He leaned close to her face, his eyes locked on hers,
“The point I would like you to understand is that you must be very careful to ensure that you do not talk in any detail at all to the detectives. If you show any hint of knowledge of this crime; if you implicate me in any way, or yourself, they will charge you for covering up a murder. You will be charged as an accessory to murder.”
He bent down over her, his eyes locked on hers as she lay across the desk uncomfortably bound and gagged.
“Do you understand? You will go to prison for a very long time. Our justice system over here is a lot harsher than yours in the U.K. You would get locked up for years; and likewise, so would I. I cannot put this strongly enough Tara. At no time are you to talk to the Detectives on your own. I have a very good lawyer who will accompany you if they require you for questioning. Not one word. You have no idea of the danger you are in. Do you understand me?”
She nodded, her head on the desk, hoping that he could see from the sheer look on her face that she fully grasped the situation, hoping he would remove the belt from her mouth. But he showed no indication of doing so.
“You and I are going to have to stay close and keep things very much between ourselves my dear. Hence the idea of you working here. I couldn’t bring you over as a girlfriend; I don’t want them to put two and two together and see a clear motive. I couldn’t call you to tell you this; I had to go through Joseph. The police could very easily be monitoring our phones.”
He looked at her, the sight of her submission, her body restrained across the desk.
He continued, trying to regain his focus, “The position you find yourself in physically Tara is of nothing compared to how it will feel if they come to take you away to jail, if you do not do as I say.”
He was frightening her deliberately, fully intending to scare her into fearing the worst case scenario.
“Of course, they would also use leg chains too, but I don’t have any of those in the office. I’m sure you can imagine it though, when they come to take you away; and a voluptuous woman like you, you’d be sure to draw a lot of attention, if you understand my implication.”
He moved behind her, the sight of her round soft buttocks through her dress so inviting. “I’m sure the male guards would be very keen to escort you.”
She felt as his hand reached between her legs, clasping her there possessively, his breath hot against the back of her neck as he took her in his hand, as he began rolling his fingers on her, rubbing against her clitoris through her panties.
“You know what those jail guards would want to do to you don’t you? They’d want to bend you over and fuck you, just like this.”
Reaching for her dress and pushing it up over her buttocks, his hands reached for her panties and pulled them down her thighs.
Stepping back for a moment, he took in the sight of her, bent over and displayed for him, her panties halfway down her thighs, her pussy exposed to him, the most exquisite sight of her sex.
His leg went between hers, pushing them wider apart.
He pushed two fingers of inside her as she heard his zip being pulled down. Pulling out his cock, rigid and straining hard to be inside her, he pulled his fingers out of her, raised them to his face, and inhaled the scent of her that had haunted his nights in her absence.
Without warning, he pushed his cock straight into her, through the wetness that had gathered as he had rubbed and stroked her ready for him.
His hands went around her, reaching her breasts and holding onto them as he drove inside her, his thighs locked as he stood behind her, arching into her with deeper thrusts, then slowing himself down to take longer with her, to savour the feel of her gripping his cock like she never wanted to let it go.
“This is what they would want to do to you. To fuck you hard, like this. But that’s not going to happen. Because you’re mine, Tara.”
His cock reached the very depths of her, he heard her low moans for him.
Grabbing her hip with one hand and the back of the belt with the other, he forced her head back, making her arch closer to him so that he could penetrate her even deeper if that were possible, and with an anxiety for her that heightened his arousal even more, he pounded into her, fucking her with an urgency, obsessed by the knowledge that he would never let anyone else touch her; that she was his, permanently. That he would never let her go.
As he came hard into her, the rush of adrenaline that ran through his body in his heightened state threatened to overwhelm him, the release of his emotions so extreme.
Pulling gently out of her he rearranged his clothing, never having meant to take things this far physically with her in his office.
He lifted her up from the desk and removed the belt quickly from around her mouth. Taking hold of her face with his hands, he kissed her lips gently. With the knife he cut the handcuffs from her wrists and rubbed on them softly, anxious that he had hurt her. He pulled her into his arms and held her in silence for a long time, stroking her hair, wishing he were lying in bed with her.
As he held her, he understood that he was coming on a little strong. They hadn’t even arrested him yet; although they could do, but there was something else, deeper inside him that he found more difficult to admit to. He knew that he had welcomed this as an excuse to bring her back. That in the worst possible way it was the perfect excuse to be reunited with her. He knew that the evocative and erotic dreams he had of her would not have gone away in time; that he would always have wanted her back, would never have stopped craving her.
As he stroked her hair, he said, “If the detectives ask you, they can know we were involved. They may come across the email you sent me from London, referring to the money I gave you. It’s obvious from what you wrote that we were involved. That’s fine. We met, had a casual, purely sexual relationship, and I got you back here to work for me, because our Companies work closely together, that’s all. Nothing suspicious there. I’m going to set up a meeting for you with my Lawyer.”
Still trying to process the threat of them both ending up in jail, she heard his description of their relationship as casual sex. It thundered in her ears. She pulled out of his arms roughly, pulling her skirt down to cover herself and shot him a look that was pure evil.
“You’re priceless,” she spat the words out.
Not even looking at him, she walked to the door, slamming it as hard as she possibly could behind her. She saw a couple of heads look up suddenly at the noise.
Storming out, she waited for the elevator to come.
Just ‘casual sex.’ How insulting could he be? Every time she thought he had a semblance of feeling for her, his body displaying it in the most tender of caresses; his arms holding onto her like he would never let her go; his eyes searing hers with unrestrained emotion; he did something worse.
She left the building, refusing to play along with the charade of pretending to work for him, seething from his callousness, walking fast along the sidewalk with no idea of where she was going.
Stopping only when she had tired herself out, she went into a coffee shop and sit down.
Mad as hell and hurt beyond belief again, thoughts of vengeance ran through her mind, despite the fear she had of him as an opponent, but she tried to remain rational, tried to calm herself down.
She sat for a long time drinking coffee, resisting the need to cry, knowing that they were stuck together regardless until the situation resolved itself; but she felt as though she were spiralling out of control.
She had booked a hotel for the night, before she had left London, intending to fly back tomorrow. Damien needed her to stay, because of the situation they were in, Joseph had no idea she was over here already, and now it looked like she would have to stay regardless of her intentions.
She was stuck with a cold-hearted bastard who she had vowed revenge on, and now she was under threat from the police. She could not believe the mess she had got herself into.
Standing up to go to her hotel, she suddenly realised she had left her suitcase in Damien’s office. She would have to go back.
When she reached Damien’s room, it was empty. For that she was extremely grateful, not relishing another run in with him so soon.
Pulling her case, she began to walk out to the elevator when he came up behind her suddenly, as if from nowhere, grabbing her arm and walking out with her.
“Where are you going?”
“To my hotel.”
“I will pick you up for dinner at eight. What hotel is it?”
“No, thank you.”
“What is your hotel? I can find out, but it would be simpler to tell me.”
He was always so damn capable and confident, overwhelmingly so and at this moment she hated him.
“The Sheraton.”
As the elevator came, she pulled her arm free and got in.
Outside she grabbed a cab to the hotel.
After checking in, she went to her bedroom. She went straight to the bathroom and ran a bath, needing to try to relax, to calm down after the unexpected and shocking turn of events.
Damien sat back at his desk, thinking. Could her really trust this woman who he had killed for, who seemed to display such reckless temper and wildly fluctuating moods; who had given herself to him with such abandon, from the very beginning, and yet withdrew so frequently in anger? Did she really feel anything for him, beyond the sexual? His body craved her constantly and he never stopped thinking about her; the moments of calmness they shared, were more intimate than anything they did sexually; the rare stillness of grace when she had lain in his arms a week ago, were memories that would never leave him, that soothed his soul, that tamed and healed him.
He needed her more than he could ever have thought possible.
Chapter Twenty Four
As 8pm arrived, she made her way down to the lobby and out to the sidewalk. In a tight black cocktail dress and outrageously high heels she stood waiting for him.
She had told herself she would not meet him tonight. That he could rot in hell. Then she remembered who she was dealing with. If she did not appear at eight o’clock, he would merely find out her room number and come for her. He would break the door down if he had to. Of that she had no doubt.
And yet, though still furious with him, she responded to him automatically, so naturally. She was drawn to his power, his presence, his strength of will; the like of which she had never encountered before. His dominance, the protectiveness he displayed toward her, astonishing despite everything they’d been through. She craved his arms around her, his chest pressed against her, his lips on her neck. No matter how temporary their union was destined to be, she knew she was addicted to him.
When he pulled up to the hotel in his Ferrari, she watched as he walked toward her, his stride purposeful, the power in his body undeniable, and she remembered it unleashed in the times he had taken her to bed.
He came to a stop in front of her. He took hold of her arm as he towered over her and led her down the sidewalk, Tara struggling to keep up with his stride.
Turning into a side alley, he pulled her with him, almost toppling her over in her heels, and he put a steadying arm on her back.
As he pinned her to the wall he saw her vulnerable, delicate face, and a sudden rush to hold her came over him, a warmth spreading across his chest, a longing for her that went far beyond the sexual. His hand came to her face and he softly stroked her cheek.
“I’ve missed you,” he said simply; his hands holding her face as he stared into her dark eyes.
His mouth took her lips gently, brushing them with his as he held her, their reunion tender, his hands holding her face gently until the hunger grew and he became more demanding.
He was hard as he pressed against her. His hand went to her leg and he pushed her dress up her thighs.
His hands returned to her face, he couldn’t stop kissing her. There was so much he wanted to do to her, to every part of her body, but here in this alley was not the place to do that.