Her lips purse as her blue heels click on the cement sidewalk. “I doubt it. If he hasn’t mentioned anything to you yet, he probably doesn’t want to talk about it. The doctors say it’s going to be any day now. If Dane’s a little more on edge than usual, that might be why.”
He’s always on edge. I’m not sure I’d be able to tell the difference at this point.
“I see,” I say as we trek into the lobby and approach the elevator.
When we hit our floor, we walk side by side past the reception desk where the gaggle of gossiping girls stand. I’m not sure how or why Dane tolerates that, but it never seems like they’re working. Odessa shoots them a glare, and they all glance away like they share a brain. She’s a deflector, that woman.
“You ready?” A dark haired man in a casual linen suit rounds the corner and hooks his arm into Odessa’s, but she immediately retracts as if she knows he’s doing it to annoy her. Must be Beckham because he looks almost like a cut-and-paste version of Dane, only with a bit more playfulness in his stormy eyes. “Where’d you go?”
“Coffee,” she says, nodding at me. “And it was on you, so…thanks.”
“My pleasure,” Beckham teases, one eyebrow arched. He wears the same dimples, dark hair, and hollowed jaw as his brother.
“It was great meeting you, Bellamy,” Odessa places her hand across the side of my arm. “I’m not sure how long we’ll be around this week, but I’m sure I’ll run into you again.”
I duck past them and head into my office, waking up my computer to check my email. Not that I usually have any. I’ve yet to do any real, actual work in this place. My heart jumps into my throat when I see an email from HR asking me to head down to her office as soon as I get a chance.
This is it.
I’ve approached the end of the road.
I just want to forget this ever happened and move on.
Thank goodness my tears are all dried out. I stiffen my wobbly legs and rise up, pulling my shoulders back. I’m going to march in there, take it like a grown woman and spend the rest of the day in the city because I don’t have a car to get home, and my ride isn’t coming until five.
“Hey, Laurie,” I say a few minutes later, popping my head into her office.
She pulls her glasses off and sets them down, reaching across her desk for a stack of paperwork.
“Have a seat,” she says.
My heart thuds hard and deep, but I force a smile. I’ve been raised to grin and bear things, and this situation would be no exception.
She places a form in front of me and hands me a pen. “You forgot to sign your background check authorization.”
“Oh.” A shaky laugh settles in my throat as I grab the pen and sign my name on the line. “Is that all?”
“That is all.” She slips the form from in front of me and places it in a nearby stacker tray. “Carry on.”
FOURTEEN
BELLAMY
Sick relief swirls in my belly on my walk back to my office, and I stop dead in my tracks when I see Dane’s doors wide open. I haven’t seen him since my little episode this morning. I take a few hesitant steps toward his doors.
I’m going for it.
I’m going to take the high road, apologize, and pray we can both move on from this and resume our training. For twenty grand a month, I’m more than happy to swallow my pride.
“Dane?” When I enter, I see him standing by his window, a tumbler in his hand filled with amber liquid and stones. He turns around slowly, and the tiniest sliver of me swears his face lights up when he sees me, but it could easily be half wishful thinking and half my imagination.
“I’d tell you to come in, but you’re already here.”
“The doors were open.” I point behind me.
“Shut them.”
I follow his orders and amble up to his side, hanging my head. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
He takes a generous sip and says nothing for a moment, just looks down at the traffic below.
“Why did you cry this morning, Bellamy?” he asks after a period of deafening silence. “I promised I’d never abuse or humiliate you, and I need to know what to do so it doesn’t happen again.”
“The accusation involving the family friend,” I say. “And the condescending tone. They were hurtful.”
“My delivery,” he says, “isn’t agreeable with everyone all the time. It’s something I’m aware of and something I have no intentions of overhauling anytime soon. But I respect that I should choose my words a bit more carefully around you. I’ll work on that.”
He leaves his empty glass on the window ledge, and I pick it up because it seems like something a sub might do. At the wet bar I rinse it out, pat it dry, and place it upside down on a towel.
When I return to his desk, where he’s staring vacantly ahead at his computer screen like he’s checked out, my heart aches. I’m sure it has to do with his uncle, but I wish he’d open up so I could at least be there for him.
“Everything okay?” I run my hands behind my thighs, tucking in my skirt, and take a seat across from him.
His gaze lifts from the screen to me, and his brows furrow as he pulls in a heavy breath.
“Take off your shirt,” he orders. “Take everything off.”
My nipples wake in response to his command, and my fingers trail my buttons, popping them one by one as he pulls a black satin ribbon from his top desk drawer. It’s the same one from the pink box yesterday, and he uncoils it in his hand before rising and coming toward me.
“Stand.” There’s a desperate, hurried undertone in his single, biting word. And he moves like a man who’d do anything to feel an ounce of something normal again – whatever normal might mean to him.
The moment my clothes are lying in a heap on the floor, he turns me around, taking my wrists behind my back and tying them together with the smooth ribbon. With his hand gripping the bend of my elbow, he leads me to a leather-wrapped Chesterfield sofa and presses me into a seated position.
His fingers work his button and zipper until his fully erected cock is mere inches from my face. We lock gazes for a second, and he holds the tip of himself up to my mouth. My lips part as I accept his velvet smoothness into my mouth. My tongue runs the underside of his head, dragging along the ridges and coming back to swirl the tip. With my hands tied tight, I can’t control my movements as well, and I have to rely on the steady bucking of his hips to keep the momentum going.
But maybe that’s the point. His whole world is falling apart, at least I assume, and he needs to control everything about this situation.
My mind reminds me to stop psychoanalyzing him and suck his cock. I’m not here to figure him out, and clearly I’m nothing more than a couple of holes to fill to him.
“Harder,” he says, thrusting deeper into my mouth. It wasn’t like this the last time, and it takes everything I have not to gag. The head of his cock hits the back of my throat with every insertion, and my eyes water.
It was fun last time. This is unpleasant. At least it’s not painful.
His hand grips my chin, pressing my mouth tighter around his engorged erection and creating a tighter seal as he pumps himself into me. His cock writhes and unloads, and the warmth of his orgasm drips down my throat. He’s too deep in my throat for me to even taste.
When Dane’s finished, he pulls himself from my mouth and zips up before sitting down next to me and untying my wrists. I wipe the tear tracks from my cheeks, hoping he doesn’t think he made me cry.
“You know, Angel, if you’re ever not comfortable with something, you just need to say stop. That’s your safeword.”
“I know.” The ceiling fan above blows cool air on my naked body, and I clutch the sides of my arms as I hunch into a ball.
“There may be times,” he says, “when I push you, test your limits. There might be times when I’m craving more of an intense experience with you.”
I nod.
Dane removes his jacket and slips it over my shoulders before reclining back into the Chesterfield. He reaches for my arm and pulls me on top of him.