Her Secret Dom (20 page)

They arrived in front of her building in ten minutes. Sick to her stomach, she opened the car door, but Jared’s voice stopped her.

“Sleep well,” he said. “I love you.”

She dared not look back at him. “Good night,” she managed and walked away with quick steps.

* * * *

Jared stared at the door to his apartment, realizing with a start that he recalled almost nothing of the drive home from Pam’s. Flashing lights and the muted sounds of traffic—that was it. Apparently, he’d been on autopilot for the entire ride.

Shaking his head, he let himself in and switched on the overhead light. He blinked as its harsh glow flooded the small foyer. Behind him, the door’s high-tech locking mechanism engaged with a sharp click, and something inside him shriveled at the utter finality of the sound.

Muttering a savage curse, he slammed a fist into the wall.

He watched with an odd sense of detachment as the paint and plaster crumbled to his feet. His numbed brain barely registered the searing pain in his hand.

Turning away from the mess, Jared threw his jacket at the coatrack and crossed over to the sofa. He dropped onto the cushions and cradled his head in his hands. What a colossal fucking disaster. He’d done everything he could to make amends, but it all had blown up in his face anyway.

Jared peered down at the dark leather of the sofa. He reached out and stroked the smooth surface. Only hours before, he and Pam had been laughing and playing in this same spot. Now all was quiet. Too quiet.

His stomach knotted as the silence turned oppressive.

But caving in to despair wasn’t an option. Time to take action.

With a deep exhalation, he whipped out his cell phone and texted,
Hey, asshole. Video chat. Now.

A response arrived in less than a minute.
Go away. Was sleeping. Mañana.

It’s important.

Seconds later,
Two minutes. Need to piss.

Jared entered the master bedroom and booted up his laptop. As soon as the program opened, his younger brother’s cranky face filled the screen.

“What the hell’s so important it can’t wait?” Alexander grumbled, rubbing his bleary eyes with the heels of his hands. His jet-black hair stood on spiky ends, a silent testament to his interrupted slumber.

Jared studied his younger sibling. Despite his own misery, he couldn’t control the smirk spreading over his face. Alexander must be one scary-looking bastard to the casual observer. Like all the Marlowe men, he was tall and large-framed, but years of training in the fight club he co-owned outside DC had sculpted and strengthened his body to almost superhuman levels. This, and the ink covering much of his upper torso and arms, made him quite a sight.

“How’s the club going?” Jared asked, choosing to ignore his brother’s surly attitude.

Alex shrugged. “Same old. It’s doing all right. Expanding. Still some fun to be had from it, I guess.”

This coming from the man who lived for all things extreme and physical. The fight club combined mixed martial arts, kickboxing, and Brazilian jujitsu. Alex was well versed in them all. His real passion was kickboxing, and he’d once competed professionally.

“You can go always back to competing if you’re feeling bored,” Jared suggested.

“Hell, no,” Alex countered. “Getting a little old for that shit anyway.”

Jared frowned. “You’re only twenty-eight,” he said.

“Twenty-eight isn’t so young in that world. Competing ages you fast. Fighting professionally is hard on the body.”

“Especially if your opponents like to fight dirty,” Jared said, referring to his brother’s last professional match. The other fighter had resorted to landing several dangerous and illegal rabbit punches to the base of Alex’s skull to compensate for his inferior fighting skills, and Jared had watched helplessly as the referee kept on giving useless warnings instead of disqualifying him.

Alex shrugged again. “I took care of that bastard quick enough,” he replied with satisfaction.

“Damn right,” Jared said. In fact, Alex had knocked out his opponent with a flying punch, followed by a perfectly executed Muay Thai roundhouse kick to his carotid artery.

Disgusted with the whole scenario, Alex called it quits that night. When his trainers pleaded with him to reconsider, he refused and vowed to focus on his new fight club.

Speaking of which… “The club’s expanding, you say?” Jared prompted, trying to stall before spilling his guts.

Alex leaned back and stretched his long legs atop the desk. “Yup. Just got a contract to train some military. Should be a good gig.”

“Great news. So who are you training? A bunch of jarheads?” Jared asked.

“Yep,” Alex replied. “Giving them a few pointers to enhance their hand-to-hand repertoire.”

“The old man will be proud.”

Alex grunted in disbelief. “Yeah, right.”

According to both parents, practicing law was the only acceptable alternative to a military career for the Marlowe boys. Both were perfect choices—especially if one wished to enter politics. Not going to happen. None of the brothers were viable candidates for a multitude of reasons. Especially Alex, with those sinister-looking tattoos and perpetual five-o’clock shadow. Jared figured central casting couldn’t have picked a more convincing pirate. “Seriously, dude…go find a razor. Wear some clothes.”

Alexander took a swig of beer. “Be grateful I remembered to put on some boxers. I often go commando and I always sleep naked.”

Jared snorted. “Thanks for sharing. By the way, what are you doing drinking beer if you woke up a few minutes ago? That’s just wrong.”

“Thirsty. No bottled water left.” Alex scratched his abs lovingly and stifled a belch. Just barely.

“You need a few lessons in etiquette, bro. Jesus.” Damn, he was feeling better already. Nothing topped brotherly banter for stress relief.

A hint of a grin lit up Alex’s face. “I know how to mind my manners. Mother was a ruthless taskmaster, as you well know. I just choose not to use them around you.”

Still a pain in the ass. But objective and honest to a fault.

“I need some advice,” Jared finally stated. It hurt to admit, but he needed a fresh, levelheaded perspective. He wasn’t taking any chances with Pam.

Alex immediately withdrew his legs from the desk’s surface and planted his feet on the floor with a loud thud. He straightened and rolled his chair closer to the computer screen.

“What’s going on, Jared?” he asked. His eyes, coal black and intense, had lost their teasing glint and now showed true concern. “Everything okay with Marlowe Security? I can shoot up to New York for a face-to-face consult. Enough with the video conferences.”

A shrewd and experienced businessman, Alex had offered him some excellent advice. Jared knew he’d hire his unruly ass in a heartbeat if Alex ever showed the slightest interest in selling his share of the club and relocating to New York. What a team they’d make.

Jared shook his head. “No. The company is sound. It’s something else.”

At that, Alex’s brow furrowed. “What, then? Don’t keep me hanging.” He leaned in and gave Jared a knowing look. “It’s that cute little brunette you’ve been seeing, isn’t it? Pamela, right?”

Son of a bitch.
How’d he guess? Alex knew about Pam, of course, but Jared had never discussed the depth of his feelings for her with him or anyone. Hell, he’d even tried to hide it from himself.

Jared blew out a breath and drummed his fingers on the desk’s surface. “Yes,” he admitted.

Alex tipped his beer at him and nodded sagely. “Knew it.”

Jared stilled, a bit taken aback. Was he that obvious? “Bullshit,” he retorted. “Since when did you become an expert on human relations?”

“Since never. Nevertheless, I figured that girl had you by the short hairs months ago. You sorry prick,” he added without any real rancor.

“How?” Jared muttered, half to himself. “I’ve kept it quiet. Wasn’t really sure until recently.”

Alex gave him a pitying look. “If you could only see yourself whenever you talk about her. You literally fucking beam. I figured you were in really deep shit during your visit last Christmas, when we attended the Woodwards’ party with Mom and Dad. Do you recall Phoebe’s cousin, Lisbeth?”

How could he forget Lisbeth? Jared shuddered at the memory.

“I see you do,” Alex said with a grin.

Lisbeth had been the predator and Jared her prey. She stalked him all evening, shaking her bony ass and silicone tits at him. When he didn’t respond to her open invitation, she flirted with other men. Relieved to be rid of her, he sneaked away and found a quiet spot to sit and drink in peace.

His respite was short-lived. A tipsy Lisbeth, armed with a sprig of mistletoe, hunted him down. Leaning down to display her ample cleavage, she held the mistletoe over his head and made a fish face. After some wheedling on her part, he placed a chaste kiss on her cheek and wished her a Merry Christmas. She responded by jumping in his lap and nibbling on his ear.

Startled, Jared spilled his beer, a dark brown malt, down the front of her off-white dress. Lisbeth sprang from his lap with a piercing shriek. After laying into him, she wobbled away, muttering darkly to herself.

A truly harrowing experience.

“I remember her, all right,” Jared replied. “Your point?”

“Point is,” Alex continued, “there was a time you would’ve tapped that ass without hesitation. But you didn’t. Although Lisbeth was a hot piece, she wasn’t Pamela.” When Jared opened his mouth to protest, Alex gave a dismissive wave. “Yeah, I know, she’s really not your type anyway. Too plastic and not in the least bit submissive.” He stopped and a questioning look came over his face.

“What?” Jared asked, already guessing at his thoughts.

For the first time, Alex showed some hesitance before speaking. “Well, being that you’re here to talk about Pam, I’d assume things are getting serious…”

“They are. And?” Jared questioned, hiding his smile.

“By now, you should know each other pretty well,” Alex continued.

Now he was being downright delicate. Had that boy finally grown a filter? “Yes, we have become quite intimate,” Jared admitted. “What are you getting at?”

His brother positively vibrated with curiosity. “Don’t make me ask you, bro. It’s just not done.”

Alex wasn’t one to either pry or break a confidence, so Jared relented. “Yes, Pam’s a submissive…and I just found out for certain this weekend. We’re a perfect match.”

Alex whistled low. “You lucky bastard.” He glared at Jared, not attempting to hide his envy.

Jared laughed, relieved to confide in someone who understood. A Dom himself, Alex appreciated the D/s dynamics and their implications in a relationship.

“Yes, I am.” He quieted and caught his brother’s eye. “I love her.”

The softening on Alex’s face was barely perceptible, but Jared caught it. “I know,” he murmured. “Good for you.” His brother was not one to show emotion, but Jared knew his reticence cloaked a kind heart.

Alex’s demeanor turned serious. “But all that’s supposed to be good news. Now, tell me what the problem is.”

Jared summed up the months leading up to that weekend—including his deepening affection for Pam and the resulting tangle of his emotions. He confessed to his almost compulsive need to hide the overseas tragedy and to play down his privileged upbringing. He also admitted to secretiveness regarding Marlowe Security as well as his ties to Pam’s law firm.

Although Jared mentioned Pam’s date with Brian and the emergence of his Dominance, he glossed over the more intimate aspects of their weekend. Even so, he suspected Alex inferred much.

During it all, Jared tried conveying the reasons behind his actions without making any excuses. Not an easy thing to do.

Alex proved to be an excellent listener. He nodded his encouragement as facts were laid out and prodded a bit when Jared faltered. As soon as Jared finished, Alex regarded him in silence. His face remained blank, but Jared knew that sharp and calculating mind was busy processing the information.

Finally, Alex spoke. “So, do you want my advice or my opinion?”

“Both,” Jared replied. “Doesn’t make sense to have one without the other.”

“In my opinion, you fucked up. My advice is to give her some space.”

Fucked up?
Jared bit down a sharp retort, knowing his brother wasn’t placing judgment. Still, it stung.

“Yeah, I screwed up,” he admitted. “But I did try to make things right.”

Alex nodded. “True, but some of your confessions came rather late. And your timing sucked.”

“I know,” Jared said with a sigh. “I didn’t mean to be so tight-lipped. We Marlowes have always been a reserved, self-contained bunch. We keep our own counsel, even when we shouldn’t. It must be imprinted on our DNA.”

“Yes. Those traits aren’t necessarily faults,” Alex said. “But they can be hell on relationships.”

Jared rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Tell me about it.” He considered for a moment. “But there were other reasons for my silence. I wanted to shield Pam from the ugly truth. And you of all people should understand the need to protect.”

“I do,” Alex said. “Holding back about the shooting and your kinky side made sense. I can understand keeping them under wraps, at least for a while. But not your growing business or connection with Danforth.”

“You’re right. Those secrets are what really set her off,” Jared replied.

Alex arched a black brow. “Can you blame her?” he asked. “Hiding information, especially after you got to know her, showed a lack of trust on your part.”

“Hold on,” Jared protested. “I trust Pam.”

Alex held up a hand. “Your actions said otherwise. You didn’t trust her to properly handle any of it. You never even gave her the chance.”

“She said something similar,” Jared admitted. “That I didn’t trust her.”

“You’re like the old man. He pulls this nonsense with Mother and you know it makes her batshit crazy.”

Jared lunged at the screen. “What are you talking about?” he snapped. “He’s a fucking dinosaur. A relic from the fifties. I’m nothing like him.”

Alex was unmoved by the outburst. “Could’ve fooled me. Not only did you deceive Pam, you treated her like some piece of fluff who’d suffer an attack of the vapors if you told her the truth.” He paused to let his words sink in, then added, “That’s exactly how Dad treats Mother…always trying to protect her from life’s realities. It constantly backfires, but he still doesn’t get it.”