Undisclosed Desire: An Alpha Billionaire Romance: + bonus novel (16 page)

I sound like a robot. Like someone who has rehearsed her lines for this interaction.

“No, thank you,” he says, mimicking my tone. “I would like to know what made you run upstairs, though.”

I pause. My hands are still wrapped around the carafe that I just placed on the table. I don’t know what to say. Right now, I feel rather stupid for my actions.

Did I really believe that there was a paparazzo waiting for me downstairs? Now, in the safety of my own home and with Evan standing next to me, the thought of someone waiting downstairs in a car to take a picture of me seems quite unlikely. In the end, I didn’t even actually see a camera. I just thought there might be one.

I shake my head.

“Nothing,” I whisper. “It was stupid.”

“Don’t say that,” Evan says. “You looked scared. And very shaken. There must have been something.”

He approaches me. I can feel his hands gently wrapping around my waist from behind. His familiar body warmth, his smell.

I instinctively lean back into him and close my eyes as he starts planting little kisses on the back of my neck.

"Tell me," he whispers. "Or I'll punish you for lying to me."

Evan

She shakes her head.

"No, it's really not –"

I interrupt her with a strong bite at the left side of her neck.

She flinches and tries to get away from me, but her struggle only causes me to tighten my grip around her waist and my bite. My teeth are sinking deep into her skin, just as they did on that dreadful day. The day we got caught.

The memory pains me as much as it pains her, but I don’t know if it’s the reason for her exclaiming a desperate “No!” while I’m sucking on her skin like a vampire.

"No, huh," I say, interrupting my bite. "Don't you ever tell me 'no' when I ask you to share something like this with me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir," she hisses.

"Now tell me," I order. "What caused you to run back upstairs? What scared you?"

She rolls her eyes. Something I will remember.

"Paranoia," she says. "I might have had a little... panic attack."

I turn her around and force her to look up at me by placing my finger beneath her chin.

"Tell me," I repeat, fixing her with my eyes.

There’s nowhere for her to flee and my sincere interest breaks the protective walls she created to keep herself safe. Caught and exposed like this, there is no room for anything but honesty.

"I thought I saw someone," she says. "In a car. A guy. He was just sitting there in a parked car, doing something. It was creepy. I couldn't figure out what it was, but I thought he might have a... camera."

I sigh, lowering my eyes with disappointment.

"I am sorry," I say, feeling helpless. "You have no idea how sorry I am to put you through this."

She really does have no idea. I have been in anguish over my idiotic behavior since the day it happened. I want to blame Roy for everything, but I know that wouldn’t be fair. While he didn’t do a perfect job of keeping me – and Nicky – safe from the kind of shit I was happy to get rid of after Sheila left me, he is right when he says that I haven’t exactly made things easy for him.

When I see Nicky’s hurt and sad face, I can’t help but blame myself for the pain she’s experiencing. I know what she feels like, because I’ve been in her shoes before.

"You might not believe this," I say letting go her chin. "But I know how you feel. Very well."

"Do you?" she asks.

I nod.

"Something very similar happened to me," I say. "While I was dating Sheila."

Her eyes flicker at the mentioning of Sheila’s name. It must be the first time I’ve ever started talking about her without Nicky pestering me with questions beforehand.

"We wanted to hide our relationship from the spotlight," I continue. "Which – as you know – didn't go very well. We were exposed during an outing together. Just a simple dinner. Surprised by paparazzi. Sheila didn't expect them and was overwhelmed by the whole thing. She didn't handle it very well."

I look at her, intently observing even the slightest hint of a reaction on her face.

"She failed me," I proceed. "Just like I failed you a few days ago. "

"You did," she agrees.

I nod, conscious of guilt.

"I should have protected you, showed my appreciation for you, covered you from those hordes," I say. "Instead I tried to hide you away. At that moment, I honestly thought I was doing the right thing – for you and me. But I realize now, I didn't. If anything, I made you feel the same way Sheila made me feel back then."

I pause and look at her with a serious face.

"I know how you feel," I repeat. "And I hate myself for making you suffer this way."

"Why did you do it, then?" she asks.

I sigh. "I can't tell you, baby girl. I really can't. It was what came to mind at that moment."

"I am not only talking about that moment," she presses. "But the days after, too. You didn't warn me that those pictures might get published. I hardly heard anything from you. And you didn't pick up your phone..."

"Yes, you're absolutely right," I agree. "That was shitty behavior on my part. And I want to make it up to you."

"How?" she wants to know.

"Honesty," I say simply. "I will tell you everything you want to know. About me. About me and Sheila. You deserve to have your questions answered."

She raises her eyebrows quizzically.

"Did you lose interest?" I ask.

"No," Nicky hurries to reply. "I just didn't expect this."

I smile. "Good, I like to surprise you."

She clears her throat. We are still standing somewhat awkwardly next to her kitchen table. She distances herself from me, but beckons me to follow her.

"Let's go to my room," she suggests, "I don't like standing here."

She makes an effort to turn around and walk out of the kitchen, but I grab her wrist and hold her back.

"No," I say. "I want to talk to you first. If we go into your room, I guarantee you, I will rip your clothes off and fuck you senseless."

Her eyes widen and she blushes, which doesn’t make things easier. I want nothing more than to make things up to her the best way I know how to, but I want to get these things out. I want to tell, I need to.

"Would that be so bad?" she asks. “If we’d play a little and then—“

I smirk at her.

"My cute girl," I whisper. "I missed you. A lot more than you think. I'd devour you like no other. I crave you."

"Well, then –" she stutters, but gets interrupted by me again.

"But we need to talk first," I urge. "We really do."

I pull her back and plant a little kiss on her forehead. Then, I beckon her to have a seat.

I want to have this talk now. She has handled the trouble and my shitty behavior so well that I can’t wait to see how she’ll handle the truth about me and Sheila. It’s a simple truth, but one that says a lot about what it means to be mine.

She reluctantly follows my gesture, but makes sure to cast me a playful frown.

"You sure you don't want anything to drink?" she repeats her question from earlier.

I shake my head. "Just take a seat."

She obeys and places herself opposite to me.

I look at her expectantly and she returns the same look of anticipation.

“So?” I ask, arching my eyebrows impatiently.

"So?" she repeats, cocking her head.

I chuckle at her silly gesture. "If you want to know things, you will have to ask me, sweet Nicky."

She furls her eyebrows for a moment, probably not liking the fact that I called her sweet.

"All right," she says. "So, what happened to you and Sheila? And why are you so reluctant to talk about it?"

I nod. Straight to the point, as she wishes.

"You'll know why I have been reluctant once I told you," I start. "But it may not be as surprising to you as to anybody else out there."

"How so?" she asks.

I place my elbows on the table and lean forward, piercing her down with an intense gaze.

"Because you know me," I say. "You know what I like. And you have come closer to me within just a few meetings than anybody has in a long time."

"Since Sheila?" she wants to know.

I shrug. "You may have even surpassed her."

Her eyes widen with surprise. "Oh."

"Sheila was not only my girlfriend," I continue. "She was my submissive, too. It's what I expect in a relationship. It's what I need."

"You're right," she throws in. "I am not surprised to hear that."

I smile. "Of course you're not."

"So? I am still waiting for the shocking revelation here."

My smile widens to a grin. She’s playing it cool, so typical for her.

"The problem was that she liked it, too – but she couldn't admit it. Not to herself and above all not to anyone else," I continue. "She was worried about her public image more than she was about our relationship. A lot more. It defined everything about her."

"So?" she interjects, still not getting where I’m going with this. "I still don't see the problem. What you do in the bedroom with your partner is nobody else's business. What's the big deal about keeping that part private like anybody else?"

My facial expression changes. I clear my throat and look at her with a stern expression. This is the crucial part, the part that may scare her away.

"I wouldn't let her," I say.

She frowns. "What do you mean by that?"

She is beginning to shift around on her chair, curious to see where this is going.

"I wanted to collar her," I say finally. "Putting a collar on your submissive is a deep sign of commitment and devotion. Like a wedding ring. Maybe even more."

I take another pause, waiting for her reaction. Nicky looks at me through her innocent, wide eyes, tilting her head to the side.

"You wanted to put a collar on her? Like a dog?"

I shake my head.

"More like jewelry. It would have been subtle enough to just appear like a normal silver necklace – but she would not have been able to take it off by herself. Ever."

"Oh..." she mumbles.

"You see," I continue to explain. "I am a Dominant. I want to own my partner, my sub, the woman at my side. I want to treasure her."

“Own her?” she asks. “Like a pet?”

I smile and nod.

"In a way, you could say that, yes. But it’s more than that. The devotion that comes with this is unlike the kind of love in a normal relationship," I add. "It's a stronger commitment – from both sides. And Sheila wasn't ready for that. I invested a lot in her, emotionally. And I know she felt the same way – but she was not ready to live that part of herself because it scared her."

"Was it all about appearance?" she asks. "I mean, if I understand correctly, these collars have locks. Right?"

"That is correct."

"And only you would be able to open it?"

"Also correct."

"Why wouldn't you just take it off whenever it was a problem for her," she wonders. "Because, you know, I can see why it might cause her to feel weird on these red carpet things or when she is shooting scenes and –"

"Because that's not how it works," I interrupt. "At least not for me."

"That is very... stubborn," she says.

Again, I can’t help but agree with her. "Maybe. Most people would call it that."

"So, you broke up over that?" I ask.

"Pretty much," I say. "It was a clear sign to me that she was not as devoted to this relationship as I was. I couldn't be happy this way. It's not only about publicly wearing my collar. If need be, I probably would have taken it off of her on occasion. But she never put that decision into my hands. She didn't trust me."

"That's it?" she wants to know. "That is why you broke up? Because she couldn't be the submissive you wanted? Because she denied wearing your collar in public?"

"Yes, in a way," I say. "No relationship can function without trust, let alone a relationship between a Dominant and his submissive."

"Hm," she makes. “It seems kind of silly to me to break up over something like that.”

Her words aggravate me, but I don’t let it show.

“It’s not silly at all, not to me,” I object. “You need to understand that if you want to be with me.”

"Compromises are not really your thing, huh?" she asks, winking at me.

I shake my head. "In some cases, I would rather be miserable than flexible."

She absentmindedly starts to play with the ribbon around the roses next to her. My eyes follow her movement, and as it so often happens, even an innocent gesture like this sparks a new idea in my twisted head. Images form, ideas come together. They all involve Nicky, naked, shivering with pleasure.

"Would you... do you..." she stutters. "I mean, are you planning to... put a collar on me?"

I look at her thinking, “Yes,” but saying something else.

"Maybe," I say. "Eventually. We are not at that point. Yet."

"Mhm," she replies. "Sure, of course not."

"Don't get me wrong," I add. "I like to keep that side about me unknown to anybody who is not a part of it. Since Sheila, I have been standing in the spotlight a lot more than I like. I can assure you, that I have no interest in making it public."

"And become the sexiest dominant billionaire in this country?" she jokes.

I smirk at her. "Wouldn't that be a smart headline."

She casts me a sheepish smile. "It might be true..."

"I don't know about that," I say. "But, would you like it? To wear my collar I mean."

"I don't know," she responds. She continues to play with the ribbon, lost in thought as she ponders over an idea that must sound absurd to most people. “I really don’t know.”