ReclaimedSurrender (6 page)

“I’m sorry he’s busy.”

“Busy working or busy playing war on his so-called break?
Never mind.”

She told herself it really shouldn’t matter as long as he
got the work done, but how much work did he get done in the course of a day? A
day that had hour-long breaks, two-hour lunches and finished before five
fifteen.

She was still mulling this over when she turned into her
driveway and parked. Given the amount of time Michael apparently took off and
measuring that against the amount of work he did turn in, she was left
wondering where he found the time to do it all. He still didn’t do as much as
she did, however, so they’d have to speak about this and come up with an equitable
plan. That decided, she dropped her keys in her purse and sighed. Time to focus
on other things, namely what her determined husband had planned for her today.

“Rene?”

“In here.”

She didn’t bother to take her coat off and went directly
into the living room. He was there seated on the back of the couch. He had on a
pair of faded jeans and a camel-colored turtleneck. The width of his shoulders
blocked out her view of the fireplace and once again she marveled at his size.
She’d always teased him about it. When she’d first met him she’d joked that he
would have made a great Viking, if he didn’t have black hair. At the moment he
looked so relaxed, so handsome she almost smiled at him. She probably would
have if she hadn’t spied the gauzy thing draped in his hand.

“What’s that?”

He held up the little bit of nothing and said, “Your outfit
for today. Put it on.”

She wasn’t surprised. She’d been waiting for this. With Rene
having carte blanche owning the week as he did, her only surprise was that this
bit of dental floss hadn’t come out sooner. But just because she’d been
expecting this didn’t mean she was going to agree with what he wanted without
even trying to negotiate some quarter in the deal.

“I’m not putting that on unless…”

She’d let the words hang in the hopes he’d be drawn in and
give up something, but it wasn’t to be.

“You are putting it on and there’s no unless about it.”

She shrugged out of her coat and laid it over the couch.
“What if I don’t want to?”

“What you want doesn’t matter. This is all about me. So,” he
leaned forward and brushed her bangs to one side behind her ear, “here’s your
choice. You can either put this on right now without complaint or I will do it
for you and you can complain all you want. Pick one.”

“Pick one? Either I do it your way or you make me do it your
way. That’s my choice?”

“My week. My rules.”

She tried to stand strong against his “brook no defiance
demeanor” and failed miserably. “Fine, but I’d just like to remind you that
you’re supposed to be getting back into my good graces and threatening me like
this is not a smart place to start. That’s all I’m saying.”

He stood and she was nearly nose to nipple with him. This
wasn’t good. She didn’t look up at him. She refused to until he growled,
“Careful, Alexis.”

Hating the thrill that coursed through her at his reprimand,
she snatched the piece of lingerie from his hand and stepped back. “I’m not the
one who’s careless.”

Crap. When she saw his expression darken she wished she
could grab those words back.

His voice was deathly calm. “I get to be whatever I want
this week. Remember that, Alex.”

Swallowing hard to tamp down her fear, she turned away. She
intended to go upstairs and change before she said something worse than she
already had, but his voice halted her at the bottom step.

“Wait.”

She stopped and hoped he’d continue to speak from a
distance, but no such luck. He came up right behind her and the heat of his
whispered words flooded her ear and drained right down to her center. Crashing
in delicious tingles and twangs that made her shiver.

“Do you remember what I said about the britches, Alex?”

Nodding, she closed her eyes.

“Good, because for
that
careless remark they’re
coming down. All the way down. Your ten minutes is now eight. Tick-tock.”

Alexis shut the guest bedroom door and leaned against it.
Breathe
.
She knocked her head on the raised wood panels and mentally berated herself.
Stupid,
stupid, stupid.
When Rene was in the zone, and he was in the zone at the
moment, she couldn’t compete with that.

Tick-tock.

Right. Quickly she stripped off her clothes and told herself
it was the excitement of being home in the middle of the day when she should be
at work that had her feeling jittery, but it wasn’t. It was the revved-up fear
of spending the rest of the day with Rene. The old Rene, who didn’t ask for
permission. A man who took what he wanted and demanded more from her most times
than what she was prepared to give. Until he somehow talked her into it. Or
made her beg for it.

* * * * *

Rene waited for Alexis to reach the bottom of the stairs and
held out his hand.

“What?”

“The robe. Cough it up. It wasn’t part of the outfit.”

“But it goes.”

His eyes narrowed as her tiny hand caressed the edge of the
slim lapel, before it slid down the shimmery fabric, over one breast, across her
stomach to her hip. “Alex.” He had no intention of being swayed by her little
tease. And every intention of seeing her wicked little body wrapped up tight in
the skimpy bit of lingerie he’d bought for her. “I’m not going to tell you
again.”

The moment the buff-colored silk poured off her shoulders he
wanted to order her to put it back on. Fuck, holy fuck, the see-through lace
and near-transparent netting showed off each of her assets and he was taking
stock.

The nude-colored negligee gripped her tits like a pair of
hands squeezing on her while the netting attached to the bottom of the bra
hugged her torso to her hips where it knitted into a sexy high-cut panty that
begged to be touched. Torn. Ripped open and unwrapped.

Easy.
He sucked in a deep breath and managed to say
evenly, “The shoes are a nice touch.”

“You like them?”

He knew she was purposely over-modeling the come-fuck-me
pumps for his benefit. Pointing that long leg of hers, stretching her calf and
angling her ass out just to get him hot. “Sure, but I would have preferred to
see you wear the red ones.”

She scrunched her nose. “The red ones? My sandals with the
wedge heel?”

He didn’t bother answering. Instead he stepped aside and
motioned for her to go in front of him. “We’re going to my office.”

She made a face that said
interesting
and slipped
between him and the banister to head down the hall. Rene let her get four paces
ahead, for no other reason than to be able to watch her sweet round ass sway.

“Getting a good look?”

She didn’t bother to turn when she spoke, so he didn’t
bother to answer her.

Instead, he watched her push open his study door and
disappear inside. Only to lean out a moment later. Now she looked at him.
“Seriously?”

“Absolutely.” He pulled her reluctant form with him as he
went inside and brought her directly to the ironing board. “You’re going to do
this and I’m going to watch.”

“You,” she yanked her upper arm out of his grip and dropped
her hand down on the stack of shirts, “expect me to iron these.” She patted the
shirt on the top of the folded pile. “While I’m half dressed, in heels… While.
You. Watch?”

“Yeah and when you’re done with that you’re going to put all
those books away.” He pointed to the table in front of his massive bookcase.
“And then you’re going to polish my wood with lemon oil.”

She glared and he casually shrugged, adding, “Hey, don’t
blame me. I wasn’t the one who decided on the shoes. And as far as the outfit
goes? I’d say you’re stretching the point when you say half-dressed. It’s more
like a quarter.”

She brought her other hand down so hard on the board the
iron teetered. “You could strip me naked and I still won’t do it.”

“Hmm…?” He pursed his lips in thought and then shook his
head. “Are you sure about that?”

“Oh yeah, you want me to—”

“Alexis.” He cut her off before she got some momentum behind
her. “Be a good girl. Heat up the iron and get started.”

Seating himself on the edge of the desk, he had to hide his
amusement. She was as transparent as her lingerie when she quickly switched
gears and tried a different direction. Clearly she was ready to heat up
something, but it wasn’t the iron.

“Rene?” She came at him using the kittenish approach. All
wide-eyed and innocent. He let her push his thighs apart for no other reason
than he was a masochistic son of a bitch while he let her slip between them and
lean her curvy hip against his inner thigh.

Fucking torture
.
“What?”

“I’ve been thinking about us.”

He followed the hand she placed on his shoulder, watching as
she splayed her fingers and dragged them in a hard and sensual taunt, over his
collarbone. When she stretched forward to curl her fingers around his nape, he
had to hold back a sigh because she had a way of touching him that instantly
made him think of raunchy sex. And when her other hand landed on his knee his
stomach muscles clenched.

“Thinking, huh?”

“Yes,” It wasn’t even a whisper, more like a sigh. “And I’m
thinking— Oh!”

He caught her hand as it drew one too many circles up his
thigh. Staring down at her, he drawled, “About ironing?”

She gasped and pulled her hand out of his grip. Going the
extra mile by rubbing her palm as if he’d hurt her when he knew for a fact he
hadn’t. “You’re a bully.”

“And you’re wasting time.” He pointed at the board.

“I don’t think this is what Dr. Anderson had in mind at all
when she suggested a rediscovery exercise.”

Rene ignored her grumble and waited until there was the
ironing board and a good five feet between him and her sexy little rack. “How
do you think the exercise should be arranged?”

She snapped out the first of his dress shirts and ironed as
she spoke, “Well, I know it sounds corny, but like the examples, I see
flowers.”

“Interesting.”

The last time he’d tried the petal brigade to soften her up
after they’d fought she’d thrown them at him. She may have even called him a
chauvinist, he couldn’t be sure. Damn, she had exquisite tits. Every time she
angled the iron this way or that, they jiggled and bounced. He couldn’t seem to
look away, so he figured he’d better put something more between him and those
soft mounds, just in case.

Shoving off the desk, he went to sit behind it. Careful to
hide the hard-on he had going that generously filled out the denim fabric down
his right pant leg. The material strangled him like a vise.

“Romantic dinners too. Maybe a movie or a Broadway show.”

Okay, now he knew she was making shit up. He’d taken her to
the most popular show on the planet and her major complaint with it?
They
sang every word.

He swung his legs up onto the corner of the desk and stacked
one ankle over the other, asking, “So where was my dinner and flowers? You had
a whole week.”

She stopped pushing the iron and scowled. “Your flowers? I’m
not the one who’s in the wrong here.”

Wrong answer.
Taking a deep breath, he clasped his
hands back behind his head and snapped, “Keep ironing.” She did but it wasn’t
pretty. If there weren’t some serious holes in the fabric of that shirt he’d be
surprised. “And don’t forget the starch. I like my collars stiff.”

“Careful.”

Alexis was being as careful as she could, considering she
wanted nothing more than to press her cheek against the cool leather-bound
books in front of her and close her eyes. This was heaven. With one of Rene’s
hands wrapped around her naked thigh and the other one digging into her
lace-covered hip, she was hot as hell and breathless.

For the past twenty minutes he’d been keeping her steady on
the rolling ladder attached to his bookcase. At first she’d balked about having
to play librarian, but that all changed two books into the job when he put his
big hands on her. The recollection of what those powerful hands could do to her
wasn’t far from her every thought.

“Here,” he passed her the second to last book and murmured,
“top shelf, left.”

She stretched and extended herself, clutching the book
against her breast, when his warm palm slid intimately down her inner thigh and
stopped by her knee with a squeeze. That firm but gentle claim sent sensual
shockwaves rippling along her nerve endings from her toes to her temples. The
sensations melted her insides as she pushed the book quickly in place and
grabbed hold of the shelf for support.

“Last one, Alex.” His voice was husky. Dark and tinged with
authority. “Finish the task.”

“Okay.” Was that her sounding all breathy and quiet? She
came down a step and went completely still. His one hand remained curled around
her hip, but the other one, the one that had squeezed her, now rode up. Softly,
slowly. His fingertips trailed along her skin with promising pressure. Teasing
her flesh and encouraging goose bumps to peak. Butterflies tickled her stomach
as her nipples hardened like tiny stones and spiked through the delicate lace
of the lingerie. She arched forward and let them graze the wood frame of the
ladder. Mmm…that supersensitive part of her connecting with that much cooler
surface got her quaking all over.

“The book. Focus, Alexis.”

Trembling, she slipped the last book in its place and took a
moment before she righted herself on the rung. Silently groaning as Rene’s hand
directly connected with her center. His knuckles brushed against the core of
her, making her inner muscles squeeze up tight. The heat sizzled as he
deliciously held that intimate contact for a few hold-your-breath seconds. Good
Lord. Blood pounded in her ears and adrenaline rushed and surged, spiking so
high she got lightheaded. Wanting and waiting for him to do more.

Biting her lip, she closed her eyes and willed herself to
breathe as one of his fingers traced a path over the elastic ribbing of her
panty. Slowly he followed the curve where her thigh met her torso, sending a
series of white-hot tingles right to her belly. The achy and building tension
that pulsed to life in her clit bordered on being painful. Triggering a need
and desire for him so strong she swayed and clung to the ladder with a moan.

He must have heard it because abruptly the tantalizing
suspense ended and his hand slipped out from between her legs. She almost
wilted from the loss.

“Come on. I’ll help you down.”

A shaky breath later she nodded. She knew he expected her to
descend the way she’d gone up. Facing the wall of books, but she had no
intention of doing it that way. His way. Instead she turned until she
precariously towered over him for a change.

“Alex.”

Ah, so he wasn’t as unaffected as he made it seem. She’d
seen the hungry lust in his eyes before he could hide it. “Yes?” She braced her
palms on his shoulders and pushed off, confident he’d catch her.

And he did. “You little fool. In those heels you could have
fallen.”

He held her in his strong arms, letting her slide down on
him until they were eye to eye. Only his gaze wasn’t on hers. No, his eyes were
examining her lips as if he wanted to gorge on them.

Automatically she tilted her head back to give him better
access. Loving the spicy scent of him. The crushing pressure of his arms around
her. The heat. The hardness.

“Alex?”

His husky whisper acted as a physical stroke between her
legs where she was heated and moist. Ready. He leaned down, coming close. Her
pulse slammed in time with her rapid heartbeat. She closed her eyes, parted her
lips and—

“It’s time to polish my furniture.”

He set her down so fast she stumbled back and fell into a
jarring sit as her butt got hooked on a ladder step. “Wh-what?”

“My wood? Polish? Remember?”

She blinked and followed the direction of his point toward
the large cherry-wood credenza. Right on top of that there was a glass bottle
and an oil-covered cloth. It took her a few seconds to recover and clear her
desire-mush brain, but when she did, she huffed a slice of bang out of her eyes
and frowned. “What did your last slave die of?”

She didn’t have the chance to lamely quip “being overworked
and underpaid” because he growled, “Exhaustion. Now move. Break time’s over.”

Yeah, and so was her sexual buzz. “I’m tired.”

“Alexis.”

She narrowed a look up at him, wondering how he managed to
make her name sound like a threat and a punishment at the same time. It really
was a talent. With a deep breath she stood and sauntered past him, but the
haughty demeanor she was going for was kicked down a notch the second he
smacked her ass as she went by.

“Hey.” Rubbing her stinging butt cheek with one hand, she
picked up the fancy bottle with the other. It was her homespun lemon oil
concoction all right. One cup of olive oil to a quarter cup lemon juice. What
did Rene call it? Her tree-hugger special. Salad dressing for furniture.

Putting it back down, she absently toyed with the cloth,
adjusting the tented wrinkles and folding and unfolding the edges, while she
tried to figure out her feelings.

That took all of thirty seconds. There was no figuring out
to be done. She was hot for him. Anger or no anger. That was the truth. Maybe
it was time they put what happened behind them. Time for her to forgive him for
what he’d done and make him promise never to do it again. Why couldn’t she have
found a birth control pill that worked for her? It would have made all this so
much easier.

“Rene?”

“Yeah.”

Her hand fell away from the cloth. Knowing he was right
behind her, she tilted her head to let him see that she was considering things.
“I don’t see how me doing our chores is getting
us
anywhere. I mean,”
she turned and shook her hair behind her shoulders, “it makes no sense. Why
don’t we just,” she shrugged, “you know, do it.”

“Do.” He sat on the arm of his Burmese leather chair. “It?”

“I’m sure you’re not loving this intimate awkwardness
either. It’s as if we’re virgins or something.” She made a face. “Maybe we
should think about rediscovering each other kind of like ripping off a
Band-Aid. It’s over fast and then we can relax and do it without the worry.”

“I’m not worried.” But his look told her she should be.
“Start polishing.”

“Why should we prolong the inevitable?”

“Are you telling me you’re ready to beg me to get back into
my bed?”

She blinked, wondering where he’d gotten that idea. “No.”

His lips pressed together and his eyebrows arched. He didn’t
need to say the words
that’s why
because they were written all over his
face.

“Fine.” She turned and snatched the oil and cloth off the
credenza and then whirled back around. “But this is no way—”

He held up a hand. “To get back into your good graces?”

Her nod may have been curt, but the look that accompanied it
was mutinous. At least she hoped it was.

“Honey, if I thought I had done something wrong and I needed
to get back into your good graces because of it, I would have already done so
six months ago. This whole time hasn’t been you denying me. Far from it. It’s
been me denying you. But now that I’ve discovered it’s not totally your fault
I’m prepared to forgive you.”

“You? You’re prepared to forgive me?” She nearly dropped the
lemon oil. His audacity knew no bounds. “It’s been me denying you. A-and…” She
knew it was childish but she did it anyway. She raised her chin a couple of
notches and sniffed. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m not ready to forgive you.”

That lofty comment was ignored while he zeroed in on
another. “You deny me?”

He was totally amused. His dark eyes sparkled and his
gorgeous lips curled up in the wickedest, most infuriating grin imaginable.
Damn him. “Yes.”

“Babe, if I wanted to get into your pants or your mouth or
any other part of you I desire, it would take me less than five minutes to do
it.”

That hit her like a slap in the face because they both knew
it was true. He was like a drug to her. Dangerous. Her present predicament
proved that, didn’t it? She’d only spent an hour and half with him, doing
housework no less, and she was ready to cave and forgive him. She wasn’t that
weak, was she?

Yes, you are, that’s why you’ve been smart keeping your
distance.

“Less than five minutes, huh?” She tossed the bottle of
lemon oil up in the air and caught it, trying to appear somewhat cocky and
confident even though she was dying inside. It was one thing to give up your
power and another to have it taken away. “So why don’t you?”

His jaw tightened. She watched in fascination as his cheek
muscles shifted and flexed under his stubble-roughened skin as if he were
gnashing his teeth together. A moment later she knew he was because he spoke
through those pearly whites without unclenching them. “This is the last time
I’m going to say this. You are the one who has to earn your way back to me. Now
polish!”

Jumping, she took two steps toward his desk before she
caught herself. He had to know that she wasn’t going to be bullied. She squared
her shoulders and elegantly made her way to the desk, all the while mulling
over his words.
He can get into my pants or my mouth…or any other part of
me. Sheesh. What other part was there?

Oh.

She didn’t want to think about that bone of contention
between them, so she continued with her silent rant. He thought she was so
easy, did he? And he was the big, strong man? She twisted off the oil cap and
simmered. She wasn’t a pushover. Well, maybe she was, but he was the one who
made her that way.

Less than five minutes to do it.

Why was she feeling so bad about that taunt? If she put her
devious mind to work, as he frequently did his, he wouldn’t last five minutes,
she was sure of it. Her hand paused in the motion of pouring a small amount of
oil on top of his desk. Lemony scent filled the air and tickled her nose while
she watched the tiny puddle flatten and thought about putting that theory to
the test. When the idea came to her she didn’t hesitate. She angled the oil
bottle down and let the liquid rip.

Rene sat there completely stunned. His wife was polishing
his wood desk with her body. Her whole fucking body as she stretched and
retreated, rubbed and reached, slid and swiped as she oiled the far end of the
desktop by lying over it. The pungent smell of lemons somehow heightened the
experience. Damn. He should have known something was up when she went at the
task from the end of the desk instead of the front. The piece of furniture was
as long as she was tall, without the shoes.

Holy— Just then she grasped the front and back edges and
fully pulled herself in a sexy glide over the top, while her breasts squashed
out from underneath her and glistened in a tantalizing shine.

He didn’t think it could get any worse, but the breath was
knocked out of him the instant she bent her knees and her ankles crossed, one
over the other with her come-fuck-me heels pointing to the ceiling.
Sexy-as-all-hell didn’t even begin to describe the way she stole over the wood
surface, as if she were begging it to fuck her or get her off. She gave up
using the cloth and worked the oil around with her hands. Splaying her fingers
and massaging the wood like she’d worked him over when they’d had a session
with massage oil. Jesus.

He readjusted himself. His fucking pants were choking the
life out of him. He sucked in another breath. She was flexing those lush hips
of hers, grinding them into the surface, clenching and unclenching her ass as
if it were him who was beneath her.

“Alexis.”

“Mmm?”

Her purr sent even more hot blood to his cock. He didn’t think
it was possible, but he felt himself swell thicker. “Stop it.”

She didn’t of course. Instead she turned over and he was
just about to thank Christ that she had, when he saw it. Her outfit. The
nude-colored lace and netting, drenched with the oil, went completely
transparent. He could see everything. All of her better than if she were naked.

Fuck.

“Do you like what you see, Rene?” She pushed off her shoes
and let them drop over the edge of the desk. Bare feet planted, she undulated.
“Do you want a better look?”

When she arched toward him the sight was like a direct punch
to his solar plexus. Before he knew what he was doing he was standing at the
end of the desk. Staring down. Her fully engorged nipples drenched and trapped
in the oil-covered lace were the color of dark apricots and looked good enough
to eat. Saliva pooled in his mouth with anticipation of a taste. He bent
forward and would have licked his lips, but his tongue went bone dry because
just then she shifted. Slowly she pressed her shoulders back onto the desk and
spread her knees wide, exposing the heart of herself beneath the shaded veil of
netting. The sight took his breath away. It also caused him to reclaim his
sanity.

He had to maintain control, no matter how tempting she was.
This was imperative if they were going to find some balance with the problems
they faced. Losing it now would ruin the great opportunity he had to prove to
her she could trust him.