Rapturous (18 page)

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Authors: M. S. Force

BOOK: Rapturous
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“You’re in a big rush, huh?”

“Apparently, this scene was just added to the film at the last minute, so they need the info pretty quickly.”

“I’ll give him a call and see what I can do.”

“If you could not mention who I am or who I work for, that’d be best. I’d hate to get the rags talking about the guys.”

“Say no more. I understand completely. I’ll get back to you shortly.”

“Thanks, Tenley. I really appreciate it.”

“Anything for a friend.”

We say our good-byes, and I force myself to get back to work on the plans for the Mexico trip as well as Flynn and Natalie’s trips to Rome and Prague. I have a long to-do list after yesterday’s foundation meeting, too, including trying to find a place to hold the carnival. Flynn’s parents offered up their Beverly Hills home,
but he wants me to give the board several options to choose from before any final decisions are made. I think he’s worried, and rightfully so, about inviting the public into his parents’ home.

I hear back from Tenley after lunch that Devon Black will see me at ten o’clock tonight. My body tingles with anticipation of what I might learn from him.
 

“Do you want me to come with you?” Tenley asks.

I want that so badly I can barely speak. “Do you want to?”

“Sure. Sounds like fun. I’ll pick you up at nine, and we’ll get a drink before we go.”

I’m more relieved than I let on that I won’t have to go alone. “That’d be great. I’ll be ready.”

“See you then.”

I’m not proud of how I spend the rest of my afternoon—surfing the Internet for as much information as I can find about BDSM, dominance
and submission, the lifestyle itself, the people who enjoy it and the emotional as well as physical elements. As I read, my imagination runs wild as I picture myself at Hayden’s mercy while trying not to picture Flynn and Natalie doing the stuff I’m reading about.

It’s fascinating in every sense of the word. I drop so deep into the rabbit hole of intrigue that I’m completely startled when Mackenzie
pops in to tell me she’s leaving.
 

“You’ve been quiet today,” she says.

I wonder if my face is flushed from my research. “A lot going on.”

“Oh, well, see you in the morning.”

“See you then.” A glance at the clock on my computer tells me it’s five thirty. I feel guilty about how I totally wasted this afternoon, but it was for a good cause. It’s in the best interest of everyone at Quantum if
Hayden is happy, and I intend to make him happy. I clear the history on my browser twice and then do a check for keywords to make sure it actually cleared. I shut down the computer rather than putting it to sleep, hoping that will provide even more assurance that no one will be able to see what I’ve been up to.

Not that I expect anyone will check on me, but one can never be too cautious when
searching for information about BDSM while at work. I grab my keys and purse and head to the elevator, aching twice as much as I was earlier. I’m dreaming about the painkillers I left sitting on my counter at home when the elevator dings.

It opens, and there’s Hayden, slouched against the back wall. He straightens when he sees me.

“You go ahead,” I say. “I’ll take the next one.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.
We can share a freaking elevator.”

“Fine.” I step in and turn my back to him.

“So this is how it’s going to be?” he asks on the way down.

“How what’s going to be?”

“You and me, avoiding each other, not speaking, that kind of stupid shit.”

“When did I avoid you or not speak to you?”

“Just now when you told me you’d take the next elevator.” He moves closer to me. His lips brush against my
ear and his hands squeeze my hips.

I want to sag into his embrace and let him hold me and comfort me and tell me it’s all been a big mistake. Of course we’re meant to be together. How can it be any other way? But I remain stubbornly still, hoping to send the message that I’m unaffected by his touch when I’m anything but. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“I want you to bother me.” He rubs his hard
cock against my back, and just that quickly, my body says
yes
to him even as my brain says
hell no
.
 

The elevator arrives on the ground floor with a ding. Before the doors can open, he reaches around me to press a button that keeps them closed.
 

“Be with me tonight,” he growls in my ear.

I want to. God, I want to, but we can’t go forward until we accept each other for who and what we are. I
want to accept who he is, and I want him to let me into that part of his life. Until he’s willing to do that, freely and without reservation, I don’t see a way forward for us. That thought depresses me profoundly, but it helps me to stick to my plans rather than giving in to his powerful allure.
 

“I’ve got plans.”

“Cancel them.”

“No.”

“Addison, I’m coming over later—”

“Don’t bother. I won’t
be home.”

“I’ll wait.”

“It’s your time to waste as you see fit.”

I wrench free of his hold and press the button to open the door, walking out ahead of him. I’m acutely aware of his gaze on me as I walk to my car, trying not to limp as I go. When I reach my car, I glance over at him, prepared to tell him to have a good night. I catch him looking around the parking lot, his gaze landing on a
nondescript sedan parked on the far side of the lot.

I immediately put two and two together to get that he’s put me under surveillance. So that’s how he’s going to play it. Well, two can play at that game. I get into my car without another word to him. I drive away and watch the sedan pull out a short distance behind me, far enough that I won’t get suspicious, but close enough that I can’t get
away.

I head to my dad’s in Redondo Beach, fighting rush-hour traffic and paying no attention whatsoever to my tail. Gordon’s team is top notch, but they’re no match for me. I’ve already formulated my plan by the time I arrive at my dad’s tiny house in the coastal town where I grew up. Though he’s made plenty of money working as a cameraman and artist, he’s never moved from the house where he
lived with my mother before she died of a heart attack when I was twelve. He’s never gotten over losing his young wife so suddenly, and to my knowledge, he hasn’t been on a date in the fifteen years since she died. He doesn’t talk about it, at least not to me, but I know he’s still nursing his broken heart, and I hate that for him.

When he’s not on location filming, you can find Simon York in
his pottery studio, which is our fancy name for the shed behind the house where he creates his works of art. And they are art. He makes a tidy profit from selling his pots, planters, window boxes and other household items in Southern California galleries.
 

Ignoring the sedan that parks down the street from me, I walk through the house to the studio, where he’s up to his elbows in muck as usual.
 

“This is a nice surprise,” he says without looking up from his wheel.
 

I kiss his cheek and take a bottle of water from the small fridge. “Whatcha making?”

“A pot.” He reaches a point where he can stop, and the whirl of the wheel goes quiet. That’s when he smiles up at me. “How’s my beautiful girl today?”

“Pretty good. How are you?”

Dark brows furrow over chocolate-brown eyes. Growing up,
my friends used to tell me he was hot. I didn’t want to encourage that line of conversation, so I didn’t agree—or disagree. But I’m not blind. I can see that he’s incredibly handsome. “Been wondering when you were going to show your face around here after kissing that jackass Hayden Roth on national TV.”

Ugh, here we go
. “I didn’t kiss him. He kissed me.”

“Either way, my beautiful daughter’s
lips were on his.” This is said with a grimace.

“Oh please. You may be surprised to know that many people think Hayden is a catch.”

He gets up to wash his hands. Over his shoulder, he says, “I hope you’re not one of them.”

 
“What if I am?”

“Oh, Addison, come on. You’ve got to be kidding me. You could have any guy in the world. Why do you want one who has a hair-trigger temper and a surly personality?”

“That’s only one piece in a very complex puzzle, Dad.”
 

“So you’re saying I have something to worry about here?”

“It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Are you or are you not involved with him in a more-than-friends capacity?”

Flashbacks from last night pick that moment to appear in my mind, a glaring reminder of how involved I’ve already been with Hayden. “Define involved.”

“Addison!”


Yes
, I’m involved with him.
Yes
, I have feelings for him, and I have for a long time. And he has feelings for me. We’re figuring it out.”

“He’s going to hurt you.”

“Give me a little credit, will you? I know how to handle him.”

“If you say so.”

“Let’s talk about something else, such as when you’re going to get a love life of your own so you won’t be so concerned about mine.”

He rolls his eyes.
“I’m perfectly content on my own, as you well know.”

“You could be happy rather than content.”

“What’s the difference?”

“There’s a huge difference. Look at Flynn. He would’ve said he was perfectly content before he met Natalie, but now he’d tell you there’re a million miles between content and happy.”

“I hear what you’re saying, but I’m not interested.”

That’s what he always says. Every single
time this subject comes up, which isn’t as often as it used to. I’ve begun to give up on my long-held hope that he might take another chance on love. We’ll soon note the fifteenth anniversary of the day my mother died, and while I’ve moved forward, he remains firmly stuck in the past. It makes me sad when I think of him that way, but I can’t deny that he leads a full life that satisfies him.
He says it’s enough. I try to believe him.
 

“You got anything to eat around here?”

“Always.” I follow him inside, where we make dinner together and share a bottle of wine that goes a long way toward calming the nerves that attack every time I think about my plans for later.

“I need a favor,” I say after we’ve washed and dried the dishes and tidied the kitchen.
 

“What’s that?”

“Could I leave
my car here tonight? I’m meeting Tenley downtown, and I don’t want to drive.”

“Sure. You need a ride?”

“Nah, I’ll get an Uber.” I withdraw my phone and use the Uber app to summon a ride. I intentionally give a pickup address on the next street over. “They’ll be here in two minutes.” I kiss my dad’s cheek. “Thanks for dinner.”

“It was definitely my pleasure. Be careful with Hayden, you hear
me?”

“I hear you. Don’t worry.”

“That’ll be the day.”

“Love you.”
 

“Love you, too, sweetheart.”

I consult my phone and groan dramatically, which is all part of my master plan. “Damn it, they’re on the wrong block. I’m going out the back to find them.”

He sees me out the back door and watches as I go through the gate to the next block, where I find the black Toyota Camry idling at the address
I gave. I jump in the car, and the driver takes off toward my address in Santa Monica. And just that easily, I dodge the tail Hayden has put on me.

Chapter 10

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