Traded for Love (25 page)

“Even if
you
aren't hurt, she might be. What about her feelings?”

“You feel sorry for
her
? I'm stunned that you can care about a woman who tried to steal your husband. But, in answer to your question, no, I don't think she's hurt. After all,
she
left
me
.”

“So, you
wanted
to stay with her?”

He sighed. “Not particularly.”

“Why keep her around then?”

“She was of use to me for a while and then she wasn't. Simple as that.”

“That's not simple, Jack, that's cruel.”

He nodded. “I'm aware of that.”

“And you're not sorry? Not to her or me?”

“I want to fix things with you, Emily,” he said, approaching me. “I don't believe being sorry makes a difference in that. I don't believe in regret, though I do believe it was a little foolish now. I think that feeling bad about the past is a waste of time.” He set his arms on my shoulders. “The important thing is that we're both willing to move forward, into the future.” His eyes drifted to his hands. “Sorry, I didn't mean to—”

“No.” I stopped him from moving away. “I want you to touch me.” I was shocked by my own request, stuck in disbelief that after everything he'd done and said, I still wanted him.

He smiled in response and drew me closer.

In the warmth of his embrace, my world seemed complete once more. This was right. This was good. This was what I'd promised to do when I married him—love him, cherish him, hold him.

(Jack)

“I love you, Jack. I don't care if you're sorry. I just want to move on,” she said softly, nuzzling me in a childish, but adorable way.

I ran my hands over her back. “I love you too, Emily.” It was a sad, sorry lie, but I knew she believed me. “As long as we work together, I think we can come back from this.”

When she pulled back, I saw she was crying. “All I've ever wanted to do was be with you. You mean so much to me. I thought my heart was breaking when you said you'd cheated on me, but to hear you say you didn't love her … ” She pressed her wet face to the breast of my jacket. “I'm so relieved. I want to be the only woman you love.” She sniffed loudly. “Just me, Jack. Tell me it's just me.”

I gave her a tight squeeze, took her chin in my fingers and lifted it. I looked into her trusting eyes. “It's just you, Emily. Nobody else.”

Our lips met. I could taste her tears. I knew I was the reason for every single one, and couldn't help but knowing there would be more.

I knew I was dead wrong for it.

But I'd told her, hadn't I?

I didn't believe in regret.

The kiss warmed us both. The sweetness in her voice had aroused me and I couldn't help but harden just a little at the fact that she was mine again. I knew little sessions like this were necessary to fully captivate her. The seduction of my little wife was far from over. There was much more to be done.

I still had to test my new knowledge of D/s relationships on her.

As our tongues mingled, I could feel her nipples stiffening through the fabric of her blouse. She threaded her arms around my neck, clinging to me in desperation.

Naughty girl
, I thought.
She wants me already
.

She broke the kiss and whispered against my lips. “Let's go into the bedroom.”

Just as I was about to give her some kind of spiel about waiting for a little while longer—because my plan was to make her crazy with waiting—my phone rang.

It was the perfect way to keep her excited. I let out a feigned sigh. “Let me see who this is, honey. I was expecting a call from work.”

Reluctantly, she stepped back with a small smile on her face.

I pulled my phone out. It was an unknown number.

“It's J.B.,” I lied. “I'll be back in a minute.”

The phone continued to ring as I stepped out, down the hall, and into my office.

“Hello?” I answered.

“It was cute, that you left your phone number for me to find.”

My heart stopped in my chest. It was
her
.
Chastity
.

“Liked that, did you?” I smirked.

“It was definitely smart. Having Jerome give it to me was a nice touch.”

“He's a good kid. Does what he's told.” I sat down at my desk. “Did you like the bracelet?”

“It's very nice,” she answered.

“I picked it out with you in mind,” I said in my regular charismatic way. There were a few moments of silence. I grew uncomfortable with it and an emotion I didn't expect to feel came through. “I hope you know I never meant to hurt you.”

She laughed musically. “It's alright.”

“Did you … recover and everything? You're okay?”

“I'm fine. Really.”

“Will you have time to meet sometime? Alone?” My eyes fell on my printed itinerary for the next few weeks. I would have gladly canceled any of those meetings for her.

“What about now? In about an hour?”

I answered without any hesitation. “Sure. Where? I can get us a hotel room.”

“That won't be necessary.” I could hear her smiling, the little minx.

“Where then? Your place?”

“I live with Drake, remember?”

At the mention of his name, I frowned. “I don't care where it is. I just want to see you. Now. As soon as possible.”

“Miss me that bad?” The words were like warm syrup on my ears. I imagined her mouth shaping them and got fully erect just
thinking
about her lips.

“Honey, you have no idea … ” I said huskily. “I've wanted you since I left you last time. I went back but your idiot
handler
kept me from entering the club.”

“He's
not
my handler,” she said. The irritation in her voice was palpable. “I've got to go, but I'll text you the address where I want to meet. I'll be there in an hour.”

The office door opened and I straightened up. Emily came in. “I'll be there in an hour,” I answered as professionally as possible. The call ended.

“Going somewhere?” Emily asked.

I cleared my throat. “J.B. scheduled dinner with me tonight and I completely forgot.”

Her look of disappointment came complete with puppy-dog eyes. “You can't cancel?”

“I'm sorry, honey. I can't.” I stood up and slid my phone into my pocket. I went over to my wife and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I don't
want
to go, but this meeting is important. Believe me, I'd rather stay.” I pulled her against me, so she could feel the poetic evil of the erection I was sporting—not for her—but for the woman I was ditching her to go see.

“I'll be waiting for you when you get back,” she said sweetly.

So devotedly
.

I gave her a soft kiss on the lips and a healthy squeeze before leaving her.

Since Dante had just gotten my Ferrari F12 serviced and gassed up, I chose it for tonight's excursion. My guess was Chastity didn't care about my money, but I didn't think showing it off would hurt my chances either.

I pulled out onto Main Street and began driving toward the closest bridge, though I wasn't sure yet where we were meeting yet. My phone chirped and my drive-mode app read me the address. I entered that into my GPS.

The location was all the way in Queens, which was around thirty minutes away
without
traffic. Despite that, the trip was a blur. I didn't care when some asshole cut me off on Roosevelt Avenue. All I could think about was seeing her again. In the end, I was no better than a lust-drunk teenager.

I came to the end of the line and had to check my location twice. It was some hole-in-the-wall burger joint. I'd never spent much time in Queens. Coming from money, I'd never really had any reason. As I got out of the car, I suddenly wished I
hadn't
brought one of the most expensive cars in my garage.

Then I saw her. She was walking down the street toward me. She blended in well with her tight jeans, tank top and denim jacket. Meanwhile, I stuck out like a sore thumb … in my
suit
. Her hair was gathered up into a loose braid at the back of her head. She'd painted her lips bright red.

That stunning mouth spread into a smile when she saw me. It suddenly didn't matter that we were in a rougher area than I was used to. I was fine as long as she was there.

“You look beautiful,” I said clumsily.

She chuckled. “Thanks.”

“I'm not used to seeing you outside the club.”

“Yeah.” She rocked up on her toes. “Want to go inside?” she asked, tipping her head at the ramshackle building behind us.

“Here?” I looked up at the sign. “Wouldn't you rather go somewhere else?”

“Nah. Wedge's is the best place to get a burger in these parts.” She walked ahead of me up to the door. I held it open for her. The act of chivalry must have amused her, because she paused to grin before entering.

Inside the establishment, a man in a greasy apron stood at a grill working on an order. Another cook moved between the register and fryer without missing a beat. Several people sat the bar while others filled the sparse tables that populated the dining area. The place was poorly ventilated, and what little light that filtered in through the dirty windows caught the fragrant smoke and steam wafting out from the kitchen. The black and white linoleum floor was worn at some spots. The red booths had seen better days.

I was uncomfortable there and yet I followed where she led, as if I were a bird following a fish into a lake full of blue-collar fish. A pair of burly gents glared at me when we took seats a few tables over, but turned back to their meals after, I could only suppose, deciding I wasn't a threat.

“Are you
really
sure you wouldn't rather go somewhere else?”

“That was an F12 you drove up here, wasn't it?” she asked abruptly.

“Yeah.”

“If I'm correct, that's the 2015 Berlinetta Lusso. V12 engine, aluminum body, around 700 horsepower, 500 foot-pounds of torque?”

Confused as to where she was going, I nodded. “I think so. Something like that.”

“What'd you pay for it? Around three-hundred-and-thirty grand?”

I shifted in my chair and swallowed hard. “Yeah. A little more, maybe.”

“You're uncomfortable here, right?” She lit up a cigarette.

I picked at a chip in the table. “Not really.”

“Liar.” She laughed. “Imagine how uncomfortable I'd be if you took me to a place where that Ferrari was one in a sea of many other luxury cars.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I bought these jeans at a yard sale.”

“Point taken.”

The greasy cashier-cook came over with a pad of paper. “What'll you have?”

“Can I see the menu?” I asked.

He laughed, exposing the gold cap on one of his front incisors. “Hey Mike,” he said over his shoulder, “Richie Rich here wants to see a
menu
.” The other cook burst into laughter. “Look pal, we sell burgers, fries, and pop here. That's it.”

“I've got this,” Chastity said, turning to the cook. “We'll have two bacon-cheeseburgers and a large order of fries to share. And two Cokes, please.” The cook left us, and I couldn't help but notice Chastity's grin. “Boy, you're
really
out of your element here.” She took a puff. “Just curious. Where would you have taken me if I'd agreed to leave?”

“Uh. I'm not sure. Maybe Cipriani off of Broadway. I haven't been there in quite a while. They serve—”

“I know what they serve,” she said with a smile. “I've heard of it.”

“I didn't meant to imply that you didn't.” My mouth seemed to dry up.

She shook her head. “You're adorable. Relax.” I tried, but it was easier said than done. “Oh, before I forget—” She took something out of her pocket and set it on the table.

I narrowed my eyes. “This is the Tiffany's box,” I said, taking it and opening it. The bracelet was still inside. “I don't understand.”

“What's not to understand? I don't want it.”

“It's a gift. I want you to have it.” I closed the box and slid it back across the table.

“I can't accept it.”

I grit my teeth. “Why the hell not?”

“I don't accept gifts from men I barely know.”

“But you'll fuck them.”

She didn't seem fazed. “Sex is an equal exchange. I don't want to owe anybody anything.”

“You don't owe me anything. Anyway, I'd argue that you
do
know me.”

“What's your name?”

Hell
.
I haven't told her my name, have I?

“Jack Duncan.” Her eyebrows lifted in response. “What?” I asked.

“I didn't expect you to tell me so easily.”

I sat back in my chair and crossed my arms. “I have no desire to hide who I am from you.”

“You wear a mask in the club.”

“That's for everybody else.”

“Hm. Jack Duncan. Why do I recognize that name?” She rubbed her chin.

Her name on my lips sounded unexpectedly sexy. I couldn't wait to hear her scream it in bed.

“I'm running for a county executive seat. I'm also the CEO and primary shareholder of Duncan Enterprises.”

“Ah, right. You're on the park benches and lawn signs.” She clicked her teeth with a grin. “Never knew I was fucking a celebrity.”

“Now that you know, does it make a difference?”

She shrugged. “Not really.”

The cook came up to us with three red plastic baskets lined with wax paper. He set them down in front of us. “Two bacon-cheeses, fries, and—shit, I'll be back with your Coke.” He walked off and returned a moment later with a couple of frosty drinks. He disappeared just as soon as he'd appeared.

“I wish that you'd take the bracelet,” I reiterated.

“I wish you'd quit asking me to.” She lifted her burger. “Come here, you beautiful bastard,” she said to the sandwich. She filled her mouth with a big bite and munched on it with her eyes rolling dramatically into the back of her head. She licked a glob of ketchup off her finger. I'd never found the sight of a woman eating—messily—to be attractive, but somehow she made it so. I was still irritated by her refusal and sat with my arms crossed, staring at her. “Quit making that face at me. Take a bite.”

I heaved a sigh, and to please her, took a bite of the burger. Its patty burst with flavor. It tasted as though they'd added minced garlic to the patty and stacked the sandwich with finely chopped onion-pickle relish and smoked bacon. The pretzel buns were a perfect addition. “This is really good,” I remarked, taking a second bite. “Like, really good.” I hadn't realized how hungry I was.