Under His Command (For His Pleasure, Book 17) (13 page)

Something about the way he asked the question set off alarm bells in her mind.

He knows. Somehow, he knows. But how much? Does he somehow know
everything?

That seemed impossible, but Kennedy anxiously ran her fingers through her now snarled hair. “It’s been interesting,” she laughed. “Easton is a great boss but he’s dealing with a lot of pressure, so of course we’ve had a moment or two.”

“But nothing you…object to?”

“Oh, no. Definitely not.” She shook her head over and over again.

“Good,” Red said, smiling grimly. “I just want to make sure you two don’t let the craziness get to you. Easton seemed a bit touchy at the end of the night tonight.”

“I think he just had a little too much beer.”

“Maybe so.” Red stopped at a room. “This is yours. Bathroom attached.

There’s towels, shampoo, toothpaste and toothbrushes, soap. Feel free to use it all, Kennedy.”

“Thank you so much Red. I’m really sorry for the inconvenience—“

“Don’t be silly,” he waved her off.

“And please, tell Nicole I’m sorry too. I feel awful that I used her bikini…”

“She didn’t care at all,” Red assured her. “No need to apologize.”

“Okay.” She smiled and looked away, touched by his consideration.

“Get a good night’s sleep, Kennedy.” He walked off down the hallway and she watched him go, feeling warm and cared for in that way she’d been hoping might happen.

She just hadn’t expected it would be Red Jameson to make her feel it.

***

Kennedy had thought she was going to bed.

She’d intended to.

But somehow, instead, she’d found herself wandering the darkened hallways of the Jameson mansion, looking for Easton’s room.

Maybe I’m drunk, or maybe I’m simply taking an opportunity
.

Her pulse quickened with each step. Anyone could find her wandering. If Nicole or Red did, she’d say she got lost trying to find her way to the kitchen for a glass of water. It was a dumb lie but better than nothing.

Finally, she found Easton’s bedroom. The door was actually slightly ajar, but the light was off.

Kennedy asked herself if she was really going to do this.

The answer was an unequivocal yes. It was time to go for it. It was time.

His door creaked open, allowing the subtle light from the hallway to cast illumination over the bedroom.

Easton was lying on top of the covers with nothing on but his boxers. He was lying face up, his arms thrown out wide, head turned sideways. His chest moved up and down slowly.

Kennedy closed the door behind her softly. Then she began to undress.

She removed her heels and then slipped out of her cocktail dress. As the dress hit the floor, Easton startled awake.

“Huh?” he said, sitting up on his elbows. “Who’s there?”

“It’s me,” she said.

His eyes seemed to adjust to the darkness. “Kennedy, what are you doing?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“Are you naked?”

“Absolutely not.” She walked towards him, her nipples stiffening in anticipation.

“What the fuck is going on?” he said.

“You tell me.” She slid onto the bed next to him and moved within a couple of inches of him, where she could feel the furnace of his body heat against her skin.

Easton turned to her, his chest rising and falling more quickly. “We can’t do this.

We’re in Red’s house.”

“His mansion. I don’t think he’ll hear us.”

“That’s not the point and you know it. Besides, it seemed to me that you would have rather gone into Red’s room if you could have.”

Kennedy laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I saw the way you looked at each other, the way you kept talking to him and laughing at his fucking jokes all night.”

Kennedy reached out her hand and touched his bare chest, slowly tracing circles on his skin. “If you only knew how ridiculous that is, Easton—“

Easton grabbed her wrist and pushed her hand down on the bed. Then he reared up and pushed her back onto the bed and climbed on top of her, pinning her other hand to the bed as well.

She felt the pressure of his full body weight, his legs against hers, his stomach.

She even felt that part of him, straining against his boxers, full against her most private, untouched place.

“I don’t think it’s ridiculous,” Easton said, his breath on her face, his lips practically touching hers. “I don’t think it’s funny. And I don’t know what gives you the right to tell me otherwise.”

“If you want to believe that, I can’t stop you,” she said.

“And we agreed that this part of things had to stop. We agreed and you broke the agreement.”

“I never agreed to it.”

“Yes, you did.”

“I never wanted to stop,” Kennedy whispered.

“You have no fucking clue what you’re getting into.”

“I want to know. Show me.”

“You really want to know?”

“Yes,” she sighed.

Suddenly, he sprang off the bed. “Then get up. Get up right now.”

She sat up and stared at him. “What—“

“Don’t ask questions. Not one more fucking question. Get your clothes and go out to the hallway immediately.”

“The—“

“Just do it.”

Kennedy did as she was told. She walked past him as he stared at her, his eyes burning in the darkness. She bent down, grabbed her heels and dress, and walked out of the room and into the hallway.

A moment later he met her out there, only now he was getting dressed again. He pulled on his pants and then a white t-shirt over his muscular torso. “Come on,” he said roughly.

She followed him for a few moments, and he led her back towards the main area of the house. Kennedy was getting nervous. The closer they got to the kitchen and sitting room, the more the chances that they’d run into someone.

And she was half-naked.

Finally, when they got almost to the kitchen, Easton swung open a bathroom door and hit the light. “Go inside,” he said.

She walked inside and he followed her in, closing the door behind them.

She stared at him, her eyes like saucers. Her legs shook.

“Get down on your knees, slut,” he said.

She licked her lips. She’d never done any of this before. She wasn’t sure what to do, how to react. If he wanted oral sex, she would be totally inept at it. She’d never even really kissed a man before.

But still—this is what you wanted
.

So Kennedy slowly got to her knees, and Easton stood with his legs apart, watching her. She was looking directly at his belt line now, and she could see the intimidating bulge in his pants.

“Do you like to suck dick, little slut?”

Kennedy cleared her throat. “I—“

“Say it, little slut. Say how much you want my cock in your mouth.”

“I want your cock,” she said softly. And she did. But she was also terrified.

What if she gagged? What if she was so bad he laughed at her?

Easton stepped even closer, so that his feet were straddling her legs. “Unzip me, bitch. Fast.”

Kennedy reached out and began unzipping his pants. Slowly, she revealed his boxer shorts, and she could see the outline of his cock. It was mere inches from her face.

“Take me out,” he commanded.

Her breath came faster. “Okay,” she whispered. “Okay.” She slowly put her fingers into the hole in the front of his boxers and felt the hard, but smooth shaft of his manhood.

“Now take it out and put me in your mouth. And you better take it all.”

Kennedy pulled him through and his erection slid into her hand. He was huge.

She had nothing to compare him to, but even so, he was very large. She knew that an average man was about six inches, and Easton had to be much, much more than that.

“I’m not sure I can take it all,” she offered. “Maybe I can suck just the head?”

He looked down at her. “Did you just really say that?”

“I’m not all that experienced, Easton. I’m sorry.” She sat back, deflated.

He continued looking at her. “What does that mean?”

“I’m afraid you won’t be impressed with me. I haven’t been with many men...or really…any.”

“Jesus,” he said, stepping back and putting his cock away, zipping his pants.

“What the hell is this? Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

She got up, imploring him. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“You’re a virgin.”

She met his eyes and nodded. “But…but I want you, Easton. I want you to be my first.”

He passed a hand over his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me. A virgin.

And…you want me…” he trailed off, his eyes glazing over as he thought about it. “I have to go,” he said. “And so should you, Kennedy.”

“Go where?”

“Go back to your room. Go to sleep and pretend this never happened.”

A second later, he was gone, and Kennedy was left alone. She stood there, completely undone and ashamed and blown away by what Easton had said and done to her. The rejection had been total and complete.

In her state of shock, she didn’t even bother getting dressed first. She just opened the door to the bathroom and walked out, holding her things, intending to go back to her bedroom and hide under the covers.

Only when she exited the bathroom, she saw someone rounding the corner. At first she thought it was Easton coming back for her, and her heart leapt in hope that maybe he was going to apologize for his horrible reaction to her secret.

But it wasn’t even him.

Red Jameson was wearing sweats and a t-shirt, staring at her, looking like he’d just woken up. “Kennedy? What’s going on out here?”

She burst into tears. “I’m sorry…I…I’m so sorry.”

He backed up. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. Can I just go to sleep? Please? And you won’t say anything about this to anyone?”

Red’s eyes were concerned and disturbed. “Did someone—did anybody hurt you?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I just got confused. I should go.”

“If something happened, you need to tell me,” Red continued. “We’ll deal with it.”

“Nothing happened,” she lied.

And then there were more footsteps, and someone else came around the corner.

“What’s going on? I heard voices.” It was Nicole, in her nightgown.

When she came face to face with Kennedy and Red, she stopped completely.

Red turned to her. “Honey, I think Kennedy just got confused.”

“Confused? This is confusion?” Nicole’s eyes narrowed. She looked positively enraged.

Kennedy shook her head. “No, this is…I can explain.”

She realized it was time. She had to tell the truth. Otherwise, it would all be ruined, everything she’d been working towards. Nothing mattered if Nicole hated her.

“You can explain?” Nicole said. “I bet you can.”

“I have something I need to tell you, and then this will all make sense.”

“I already know,” Nicole said, her voice low and threatening.

“You…you do?”

“Yes, I know the truth about who you are.” Nicole looked from Kennedy to Red.

Then she looked back to Kennedy. “Now get the hell out of my house. And I never want to see you or hear your name again.”

THE END OF BOOK 17

Stay tuned for book 18 in the For His Pleasure series, coming soon! And continue reading below to get a free look at the first book in Kelly’s exciting new hit series, NAKED.

NAKED (NAKED, BOOK 1)

by Kelly Favor

©
Naked. 2013, all rights reserved.

Caelyn Murphy was in trouble.

The car that she was driving down I-95 at just past three in the morning was starting to make strange noises, and the check engine light had come on, a brilliant and panicky yellow.

“No, no, no,” she moaned, taking her foot off the gas and trying to let the car coast a little while before pressing the gas pedal again. The car was shaking now, vibrating as if someone had decided to turn it into a washer and set the cycle on “spin.”

She heard grinding noises, too—and couldn’t imagine any way those noises could be just a passing thing. Something had gone very, very wrong.

Caelyn wasn’t big on praying, but she started to pray now. She wiped her blonde hair away from her face, glancing at herself in the rearview mirror and being met by a pair of wide, frightened blue eyes and a pale complexion.

There was nobody else on the road—she hadn’t seen a car in probably half an hour, when she’d passed the Charlton Plaza some miles back. There had been a few trucks and a couple of other lonely drivers then, but afterwards it was just her on this dark and lonely highway, her headlights sweeping out in front of her car as she tried desperately to outrun the pain and fear of what had happened to her just a couple of hours ago.

Pressing the gas seemed to do nothing but create ever more violent sounds from her automobile, and so Caelyn was once more forced to take her foot off the gas. She’d kicked her heels off and was driving barefoot. She was wearing the same skirt she’d had on all evening—the one that was too short and had made her uncomfortable with how much leg it revealed—and it was ripped now, just a little bit.

Glimpsing the ripped skirt out of the corner of her eye brought back memories that she was trying to forget. Caelyn closed her eyes tightly for a moment and shook her head, trying to force her mind to clear, focus on the present.

One of her knees was scraped raw, and it hurt.

Her low-cut top was stretched and misshapen from being yanked and pulled. But none of those things bothered Caelyn as much as the ache in her stomach and the burning between her thighs.

She bit her lip, wanting to scream. Her eyes were starting to fill up with tears, causing the road in front of her to double and triple in her field of vision.

Why was this happening, now, on top of everything else? Why was her stupid car betraying her too?

She pounded the steering wheel with the palm of her hand.

The car was clunking and grinding worse than ever and she was forced to slowly pull off to the shoulder. As she did so, the sound of tires rolling over gravel and sticks was an eerie reminder that, other than the sounds from her self-destructing car, the highway was almost completely silent at this time of night.

Caelyn put the car in park, killed the struggling engine and grabbed her purse. All she’d brought on her trip was one small overnight bag with some clothes and other necessities hastily thrown inside.

Sticking out of the top of her purse was the postcard that had given her the crazy idea for this trip. “Greetings from Florida” was still visible at the upper edge of the card.

She pulled the card out of her purse and tossed it on the passenger seat as she dug into the bag and grabbed her cell phone. She needed to call for help—not Triple A, since she didn’t have it.

Maybe a cab…but that would be beyond expensive on her incredibly limited budget.

The truth was, she didn’t have anyone she wanted to call.

Certainly not her parents. How could she explain the fact that she’d left the dorms in the middle of the night and was now en route to Florida?

Sorry, Mom, but can you send someone to pick me up? I broke down on my way
out of state. Oh, and by the way, sorry about the fact that I’m planning on leaving and
flunking my freshman year of college. I just needed to get away from it all.

Sure, that would work.

But now she had a different problem to deal with, and that was the fact that she wasn’t getting any reception on her phone. It literally said no service. It wasn’t a one bar situation—it was a
no
bar situation, which meant that she might as well not have a phone at all.

And it was very, very dark outside. On either side of the wide interstate were only woods and more woods, as far as the eye could see.

Her heart was beating fast. Especially after the night she’d had. The terror she’d experienced mere hours ago hadn’t even dimmed yet--she’d just managed to push the thoughts and memories out of her head. But now that she’d stopped moving, flashes from earlier in the night were coming back to her. Invading her mind.

Jayson, smiling.

The smell of pepperoni pizza sitting on the coffee table.

Her own voice, as if from a distance, screaming.

Caelyn suddenly threw the car door open and stumbled out, falling into the breakdown lane, her purse hitting the pavement as her hands and knees struck the ground, sending bolts of pain into her palms and up her legs.

Now she was crying, sobbing. There was the sound of an engine approaching in the distance, and then headlights clearing the rise. They were coming towards her.

Caelyn stood, picking up her purse and phone and backing out of the street as the oncoming vehicle sped towards her. In moments, it would be passing by.

Did she want to be seen?

It depended by whom. Out here, she was a sitting duck, and as bad as things had been earlier in the evening—her jangling nerves told her that things could get far worse.

If the wrong person stopped and saw a lone girl dressed scantily, with no means of transportation and no cell service in the middle of the night, on a deserted road…

The headlights belonged to a large truck. As it got closer, the truck seemed to slow almost imperceptibly. Caelyn shrunk backwards, her buttocks hitting the car door as the truck blew past, sending a ripple of wind and exhaust outwards.

And then it was gone, and she saw the break lights come on briefly in the distance before it disappeared over the next rise.

The night was dark and quiet again.

Caelyn glanced down at her cell. Still no service, and the battery was low as well.

She started to walk away from the car, just to see if she might get any bars a little further down the road. But nothing changed.

She was stuck, not knowing who to call even if she did get service on her phone.

What was next? Sleeping by the side of the road until dawn and then hitchhiking to the next stop? Using her meager funds to get a train back to Boston, tucking her tail between her legs and returning to school the next day as if nothing had happened?

An image of Jayson, grinning, appeared in her mind as if placed there by some dark magic. She willed it away.

No. She wouldn’t go back to school after what had happened tonight.

She was going to Florida, even if it meant walking the rest of the way.

Caelyn made her way back to the car and got inside. She grabbed the keys, determination written on her face as she grit her teeth. Sticking the key in the ignition and turning, she once more prayed for help.
Just let me get a few miles to the next exit,
she thought.
I’ll get off and find a hotel—an all-night gas station. Something.

The engine turned over, but the moment she tried to drive again, the grinding and complaining from the engine was so loud Caelyn actually wondered if the car was about to explode. She knew nothing about cars, so pretty much anything seemed possible at this point.

She turned the car off yet again and sighed deeply. It was over. She had to admit that her silly little plan had failed before it had even really started. She would wait a few hours until the sun rose, flag down a passing car and soon be headed back to Boston and all of the ugliness that came with it.

A sense of dread filled her stomach. She opened the car door and stepped out, walking hunched over to the grass of the shoulder and was violently sick.

It occurred to her that she’d rather be dead than go back.

She would never go back. Never.

A beam of light struck her eyes, and she squinted, as yet another pair of headlights climbed the rise and aimed for her. Once more, her heart started pounding as the headlights approached.

It wasn’t a truck this time, but an SUV, heading her way at an alarming speed.

For some reason, this time she actually wanted the car to stop. Well, that wasn’t quite true. She wanted it to stop, but she was also terribly frightened. Maybe she would luck out and it would be a nice older couple inside. Someone visibly safe and nonthreatening.

Or perhaps this SUV would pass by without a second glance, much the same way the trucker had gone by not long ago.

At first, it seemed that that was exactly what was about to happen. But then, surprisingly, just a yard or two beyond her car, the black SUV slowed down, break lights flashing and staying on. And then it pulled off the shoulder and stopped.

Caelyn walked forward a few steps. She was far enough away to make a run for it if need be. She wasn’t sure how far she would get, but she’d try. She took out her non-working cell phone and pretended to be in the midst of making a call.

The front door of the car opened and then he stepped out.

Her stomach flipped and dropped, as the stranger stepped directly into the light from her car’s headlights. The headlights illuminated him, briefly outlining a man who was probably around her age, perhaps a year or two older—standing a little over six feet tall, wearing dark track pants and a black t-shirt. His face was like one of those teen idols from the vampire films that all the girls loved. Dark, strong features, dark hair tousled exactly the right way.

“Car trouble?” he asked, still at a distance. His voice was strong, confident and clear. It sent shivers down her spine.

Caelyn gripped her cell phone tightly, tried to breathe. Why was she scared of him? Was he bad, did he have evil intentions—or was it something else?

“My car’s making a lot of noise,” she said, finally. Her voice sounded less scared than she felt. But her legs were shaking.

The man walked to the door of her car, and now he was bathed in shadow, but closer. He moved with an easy, relaxed gait that indicated a familiarity with women—

which made sense, given his good looks. As traumatized as Caelyn was, it was impossible not to appreciate how gorgeous he was.

“Mind if I check it out?” the stranger asked.

“Sure,” she said. She liked that he wasn’t coming closer. He opened the driver side door all the way and slid inside. A moment later, the engine was revving and the sounds were back in all their glory. From outside, it was somehow even worse. She knew that whatever it was, her car was in very, very bad shape.

The stranger got out a few seconds later, leaving the car running. “I’m just going to have a look under the hood,” he explained. He had a small flashlight, she saw, and then the hood was up and he was examining something.

Caelyn was curious, but hung back, still ready to run. Her senses were on high alert and she didn’t trust this guy with his eerie, relaxed vibe and charming way. She knew now how little any of that stuff meant.

This guy could just be waiting for her to let down her guard and then he’d pounce.

How could she possibly trust him? What reason did he have for being out here this time of night?

He couldn’t have been under the hood more than a few minutes before he’d shut it and then gone back inside the driver’s side. The engine shut off with a trailing, snarling rattle.

When the stranger got out of the car this time, he did take a step in Caelyn’s direction. She took a step back, tensing her whole body, ready to flee.

He smiled from the shadows. “Relax,” he said. “I was just going to give you your keys back.” He held up his hands, showing the dangling key chain.

Caelyn folded her arms. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Can’t be sure, but I think your transmission’s shot,” he said.

“Great. I assume that’s pretty bad news.”

“It’s not good.”

“Well, thanks for trying,” she told him. She pretended to dial her phone, just to show him that she had the option to call for help if she chose.

He looked at her. “I think reception’s pretty much nonexistent out here.” She could swear the corners of his lips twitched as if to smile at her silly ruse. His eyes moved up her body, taking in her skirt, her ruined shirt, the high heels that had seemed a good idea earlier in the night.

She jutted out her chin, refusing to wilt under his gaze. Surprisingly, it wasn’t making her uncomfortable. Caelyn didn’t get the sense he was checking her out – at least, not in a sexual way. Instead, he was probably wondering what the hell she was doing out here, by herself, late at night, on the side of the road.

“Well, my phone’s getting reception,” she lied.

“Oh, that’s good.” He put his hands on his hips. “My name’s Elijah,” he told her.

“Cool. Thanks for taking a look at my car,” she said. “I appreciate it. Guess I’ll just call for a tow truck.”

“Listen, why don’t you let me drive you to the next exit, drop you somewhere safe, you can wait there until they fix up your car?”

Relief started to flood through her. But then she caught herself.

Once she was in his car, anything could happen. Anything.

He seemed nice, though.

So did Jayson.

That brought back the tremors and the sick feeling. “I should probably stay with my car,” she said.

Elijah nodded slowly. He leaned back against her car, crossed his arms over his broad chest. She couldn’t help but notice the way his biceps flexed, even under the loose material of his t-shirt. “You know it’s probably going to cost you a couple thousand dollars to have it fixed, right?”