Lyon on a Leash (17 page)

She stepped closer to the door and glanced upward at the numbers. “That’s good. I wish you luck.” The doors opened and she walked out without a backward glance.

He walked toward the area his Mistress told him. Hands in his pants pockets, he looked around the busy office. Some people sat around talking; others moved briskly through the halls. He stopped in front of the desk he’d been told to report to.

“I’m here for Ms. Knight.”

The woman looked up and then did a double-take. She took so long to say anything, he wondered if he’d left his fly open. Not wanting to draw attention to that area if he didn’t have to, he decided to ask for his Mistress again.

“I’m here for Ms. Knight,” he said, louder this time.

She shook her head. “Oh, I’m sorry. I…I heard you the first…she’s not back yet…I can call, no she’s in a meeting…she said she had a lunch date. Is that you?”

He wondered at the surprise in the woman’s voice. “Yes.”

She sat back in her chair and stared up at him.

What was wrong with this woman? “Ms. Knight is in a meeting?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yes. She should be here in a few minutes. Would you like some coffee? Some tea? A date?”

“Huh?” He frowned and backed away from the desk.

Her face turned cherry red as she slapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. Please, please don’t tell Vera. She’ll be mad at me. Please. I’m sorry.”

He waved her down, even though he remained a distance from the desk. The woman was off. “No problem.”

“It’s just you don’t look like the guys she normally has lunch with.”

Really
? He waited to see if she had more to say about his Mistress. As curious as he was about the type of men who came before him, he didn’t appreciate this woman repeating or disclosing things she shouldn’t.

“That’s beside the point.” She inhaled. “If you’d have a seat over there, I’ll send her a text letting her know her appointment has arrived.”

He nodded, crossed the small space, and sat. Five minutes later, his Mistress walked around the corner. That morning, she’d asked him which outfit he preferred, a dark green pantsuit with black piping or a rust-colored skirt set. The green looked great next to her creamy complexion and reddish hair. She’d worn his choice. He tried to read her mood but was distracted by the tall, fair-complexioned man who followed behind her, trying to get her to slow down and talk to him.

“Vera, I wasn’t done. We have a few more things to discuss.”

She stopped and sent Marcus a smile. Her smile said she’d handle this and reminded him of his promise not to fight in her office. From this distance, he noticed her freckles and knew she must be losing patience.

He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, flexing his biceps, stretching the polo he wore across his chest.
So this is Gerard Brinks, I can take him
. They were probably equal in height, but Marcus believed he was heavier, wider across the chest than the man.

“You told me I’d get a brief on that case. Did I miss something?” she said to Brinks.

Brinks’ jaw clenched.

Marcus smiled at his frustration and leaned back to watch.

“No,” Brinks gritted out.

“Gerard?” Marcus turned as the woman from the elevator stood a few feet away, glaring at the scene in front of her.

Brinks returned her frown. “Yes?”

“I’d like you to join us for lunch.” She glanced at Marcus.

Brinks followed her movement and stared at him.

“Lunch?” he asked, without taking his eyes from Marcus.

“Yes,” she snapped. “Let’s go now. Ms. Knight has a lunch date and you’re making her late.”

There was silence. Marcus applauded the old bird’s panache for drama. The disdainful look on Brinks’ face was telling.

“Really?” Brinks drawled, as he looked at his mother-in-law. “How do you know that?”

She shrugged. “Let’s go. Horace is waiting. I told him I’d come fetch you.” She spun on her heels and walked off.

Brink’s gaze swung back to him and then to his Mistress. “That true, Vera? You have a lunch date?”

She nodded and walked into her office. Amy followed. Brinks looked over at him and walked slowly in his direction. “You her new toy?”

Marcus looked at the pompous idiot and remained silent.

“I hope you don’t think going to lunch with her means anything. It doesn’t. She’s taken.”

Marcus stood.

Brinks backed up a bit.

Marcus had been wrong. He was taller and much wider than Brinks. As he looked down, he couldn’t help but let his lip curl. “You’re right. She
is
taken.”

Brinks stiffened. “Don’t be a fool.”

“The only fool in this room is the man keeping his in-laws waiting over a woman he will never have.” Marcus spoke softly so no one else could hear.

Brinks jerked back and stared up at him with so much venom, Marcus knew he had just made an enemy.

“Don’t be too sure of that, boy.”

Rage ripped through Marcus at the slight. He remained still, using all of his energy to rein in his fury. The man taunted him as though he were a boy not in control of his emotions. He gave Brinks a nasty grin.

When he could speak, he struck another blow. “Oh, I am very sure,” Marcus said in a deliberately cocky tone. His anger evaporated as Brinks’ eyes widened and his jaw tightened before he finally stalked off.

Marcus turned as his Mistress’ door opened. She and her assistant walked out. Purse on her shoulder, she looked at him. “Ready for lunch?”

“Yeah, I’m hungry.”

She smiled as she moved out ahead of him. The first person they encountered was a sullen Brinks and his in-laws. Based on the scowls on their faces, they didn’t appreciate his keeping them waiting.

His Mistress nodded and walked around them. Marcus held open a door for her and leaned down, pushed back her hair, and whispered in her ear, fully aware of how intimate it appeared.

“I rode up the elevator with the older woman when I got here earlier.”

Her brow rose, but Vera remained quiet.

“She had a lot to say, most of it negative.”

“I bet.”

“I think she liked me until I told her I was here for you.” He brushed his fingertips across the freckles near her nose.

She grunted but a smile twitched on her soft lips.

“There must be something in the water here, because she’s under the mistaken idea that you run after men.”

“Nooo.” She rolled her eyes, laughing softly as she leaned into his chest.

“Yeah. I hated to correct her, but being a gentleman and all, I couldn’t allow her to think wrong thoughts.” He held the elevator for her and entered afterward. Much to his surprise, Brinks and his in-laws joined them. The five of them traveled downward in utter silence.

Marcus glanced at Vera. She was so sexy, so beautiful. A curl of lust tugged inside him. But his first mistress had been sexy, beautiful and…she’d broken his heart. No. He’d keep his heart on lockdown until he was sure he could trust her.

She looked up at him with a smile.

He fiddled with her fingers. When Brinks looked down at their hands, Marcus laced his fingers with hers and pulled her closer.

A collective sigh rose when the doors opened. The old man stalked out first, followed by his wife. Brinks looked at them and walked out, buttoning his jacket. Marcus followed Vera into the lobby.

“I parked across the street. Do you want me to bring the car over?” As Marcus waited for her response, a tall, elegant blonde met Brinks and his in-laws in the lobby. Brinks leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek. She threaded her arm through his as though it were a leash to keep him close.

“Let’s get the hell out of here before she pees on him,” his Mistress said.

He fought down a laugh, placed his arm around her waist, and led her toward the glass door, all the while enjoying the knowledge he’d messed up that fool’s day.

Vera sat in her parked car, staring at the steering wheel. It had been eight weeks since Marcus had moved into the main house. He’d lived in the garage six weeks before they’d both agreed it was time for them to truly live together.

Taking a deep breath, she leaned against the headrest. The changes in her life had been phenomenal. Even now, she knew her dinner was prepared and ready for her to eat the moment she stepped inside. No doubt it would be something delicious and healthy.

Her stomach rumbled in anticipation.

Once Marcus had discovered she was a big Luther Vandross, Patti Labelle, Kenny Gee and Anita Baker fan, he’d hooked up her sound system to speakers throughout the house. When she entered, one of those artists would welcome her home. He’d prepare her bath, give her a massage, play in the dungeon with her, go for a walk or swim. And if she wanted to be alone, he’d disappear into another part of the house. Never in a million years could she have imagined living with someone could be so…so life-altering, and nice.

Most nights they slept together. Well, they didn’t exactly sleep. Some nights they lay side by side, talking. Hours would pass and either she’d talk about something from growing up or he would.

He talked about his parents, who’d been married for thirty six years. His dad worked at a pencil factory but had still taken the time to teach Marcus to hunt when he was younger. His mom worked retail but loved to cook exotic dishes, and shared recipes with him. He had one younger sister who lived in Texas with her military husband. The last time they’d seen each other, she’d been happy and pregnant. Three months later, Marcus had lost his nephew to SIDS. Following that, his sister had withdrawn and rarely talked on the phone.

“My mom would like to meet you,” he’d said one night while twirling a lock of Vera’s hair.

That had surprised her. “She does? What’d you tell her about us?”

He shrugged. “Not much. Just that we lived together and that I was happy. That’s pretty much all she wanted to know. Well, she still wants to meet you one day.”

She’d never answered him or responded by talking about her current family situation, if it could be called that. The first few months after her grandmother had died, she’d been lost and tried to keep in touch with her aunts and cousins. The pain of their rejection had gotten better over time but still burned. To this day, she wondered why she’d bothered.

Even as a child, they’d mocked and never accepted her. Whenever her grandmother wasn’t around, her cousins delighted in teasing her about her drug-addict father and teenage mother who didn’t want her. Their taunts had grown worse as she’d gotten older. They’d called her “Fat Red”, picked at her freckles, made fun of her teeth, which were huge when she was growing up, and her reddish-brown thick hair that her arthritic grandmother could barely comb. It was a wonder she had a shred of self esteem left.

They explored each other’s bodies for hours at a time. Her lips curved into a smile. Marcus was ticklish around his ribs. She discovered her feet were ticklish.

Their sex varied. Some nights it was raw, intense, and she could barely catch a breath as she hurtled over the edge. Other nights, they’d make slow, romantic love to each other. The exquisite release always brought tears to her eyes, it was that good. Hell,
he
was that good.

She glanced at her watch.
Five-thirty
. A few months ago, being home this early would have been unheard of. Now, it was her standard.

Unlocking the door, she grabbed her briefcase and entered the house. Aromatic smells of rosemary and thyme greeted her as she walked into the mudroom and hung her keys on the hook near the door. Luther was singing through the speakers as she strolled into the kitchen.

“Hello, Mistress.”

She turned and stopped. No matter how many times she saw him bare-chested with jogging shorts—his required attire when they were alone at home—the sight still caused a lurch in the lower region of her chest.

The exercise regimen he completed daily had changed his physique, giving him a broader chest with more defined pecs. His stomach had developed some nice, muscular ridges.
Warrior
.

The word brushed across her mind as she looked her fill. Although he submitted beneath her hand, there was something not quite tame in his eyes.

The feeling amplified when they were in public and someone got too close, or said something disrespectful. An implacable look would come over his face and he would move into corrective mode. She chuckled.

There had been times when she’d had to order him to stand down and allow a slight to pass. No question he took his job as her protector seriously.

“Hey,” she said, smiling.

He leaned forward, brushed a kiss against her cheek, and placed a glass of chilled seltzer water with a lime twist in her hand, all while taking her briefcase.

She traced her fingernail from beneath his neck down to the top of his drawstring shorts, and watched the pulse in the base of his neck as it sped up. Bringing the glass to her lips, she took a sip, appreciating the tickle at the back of her throat as she watched the light in his eyes burn. Blindly, she set the glass on the counter behind her and reached for the hair around his shoulders.