Delete…
Delete…
File…
Delete…
Respond…
When my inbox is almost clear, I see an email from Laurie in HR from earlier in the afternoon.
Dane,
Background check came back clear.
Laurie
“Good,” I mutter before forwarding it on to my guy, the one who checks on things beyond credit history, criminal records, and identity confirmation.
I never used to run such extensive background checks until Jenessa. Now I won’t sleep with a woman until I know every goddamn thing there is to possibly know about her. Only I have to go about extracting that information in roundabout ways. Asking a woman these types of things doesn’t always guarantee the truth, and it also has a tendency of making them think you give two shits about getting to know them on a personal level. I’d prefer to avoid complications if at all possible.
Roger,
Full report on this one. Need ASAP.
Dane
I attach her signed consent form and hit send.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and my heart skips without permission when I wonder if it might be Bellamy, texting to thank me for the bezel-set diamond necklace.
Nope.
It’s Beck.
YOU EAT YET?
I type back, NOT HUNGRY.
ODESSA AND I WILL BE AT TAVERN PARK DRINKING BEER AND EATING PIZZA. JOIN US OR BE LAME.
My palate prefers a different kind of dinner tonight, one that lies between the curved thighs of my sub. I meant to reward her for the impeccable mouth-fucking earlier today, but I wasn’t quite in my right frame of mind, and when I saw that I’d fucked those cherry lips so hard she gagged, I had to bring us both down.
I’m not a man who ever prefers cuddling, but I’m not about to subject a novice to sub-drop. I’d never do that to Bellamy, so I held her in my arms, warmed her with my heat, and pretended not to enjoy it when she nuzzled her cheek up against my chest.
I reach for my phone again and pull up Bellamy, my thumbs hovering over her number. But the second I realize I’m halfway smiling, I throw my phone down like it’s carrying the bubonic plague.
Screw that.
I’ll see her when I see her.
In the morning.
On all fours.
Wearing the necklace that tells the world she’s taken in all senses of the word.
She’s lucky I didn’t get her an actual collar.
SIXTEEN
BELLAMY
I clasp the gold chain around my neck and flip the visor up before turning the engine off. It’s not tight by any means, but a constricted sensation creeps around me.
I’m not an animal.
And I fully understand that physically I belong to him. I know what I agreed to. But I didn’t know I’d have to wear something twenty-four seven to remind me.
It’s almost worse than Cortland proclaiming at Bible study last night that he’d spent the afternoon looking at promise rings for me. It took every ounce of strength in my body to give him my ring size with a smile on my face.
When I climb out of the Land Rover, I click the button twice just to hear the sonar beep an extra time then stand back and admire how sleek and sexy my new ride is. I worried about explaining this beautiful beast to my family, but my father took it exceptionally well. I think he was just relieved he wouldn’t have to buy me a new car. The Chrysler should be out of the shop next week, but I’m going to tell my father to sell it. By the time I’m done working for Dane in a few months, I’ll be able to afford something one-hundred-percent mine.
“Dane’s not in today,” Marlene says when I walk past her desk that morning.
I stop short, cocking my head. “Is everything okay?”
“Death in the family.” She presses her hand across her heart. “He might be in later today, but we’re not sure. He’s with Beckham right now. Private burial on Saturday. That’s all I know.”
My heart aches for the man with the ice-block heart who’s probably suffering in silence, not allowing anyone to comfort him. I wish he’d let me be with him. Granted, I’m not his girlfriend, but still. I could at least serve him by offering my support.
Then again, he made it clear earlier in the week that I’m not in his “inner circle.”
I slip the diamond necklace off when I get to my desk and place it in an organizer tray in my top drawer. If he’s not here, there’s no sense in me wearing this. Pulling out my phone, I send him a text.
SORRY FOR YOUR LOSS, DANE. I’M HERE IF YOU NEED ANYTHING.
Send.
He doesn’t respond, and like some spineless pushover, I can’t help wanting to do something more to please him. I yank the drawer out and fish around for the necklace, slipping it around my neck and taking a selfie. It’s just my décolletage, the photo centered on my necklace. I leave out my face and cleavage, as I’m not about to make his day of mourning about sex or teasing.
I examine the photo and send it to him without a caption before taking the necklace off once again and tucking my phone back in my purse. He can do with it what he wants, but I refuse to take it personally if he doesn’t respond. He’s busy, and I know family comes first.
My morning consists of playing solitaire and making too many trips to the break room for some Earl Grey tea from the Keurig machine. My afternoon consists of way too many bathroom trips thanks to said tea, and a little light Internet browsing. I’ve never actually shopped online, but I type in any store name I can think of and add a dot com to the end and squeal like a schoolgirl when the website pops up. I’m not sure why my father needed to block all these websites. It’s not like looking at shoes or bags would be some gateway to the darkest corners of the World Wide Web, but try telling him that.
When it’s time to go, I grab my necklace and then check the doorknob of Dane’s office, making sure he didn’t sneak in at some point in the day.
Locked.
I check my phone for the millionth time that day to see if he got my texts. They show as received, but he still hasn’t responded.
I just hope he’s okay because I know he’d never admit it if he weren’t.
***
“I never see you anymore.” My sister, Waverly, comes into my room that night and throws herself across my bed. “You’re always working or with Cortland.”
“It’s called being an adult,” I say, picking at my nails. I need to paint them again before work tomorrow.
“Cortland’s been coming over almost every night this week,” she laments.
Though we were spared tonight. He had to help a cousin move into a house. Thank God for small favors.
I lift my gaze in her direction. “You don’t like him?”
Please say you don’t like him.
She rolls her eyes. “No, it’s not that. I mean, he’s perfect for you. And dad loves him. Mom too. Everyone really. It’ll just be weird when you’re married, and you won’t be here anymore.”
“You’re going to college in the fall, right? You don’t plan on sticking around?”
“Dad said I could go if I got a scholarship and if I’m on my best behavior the rest of the school year.”
“When are you not on your best behavior? You’re the golden child. I don’t think it’s possible for you to be any more perfect than you already are.”
She draws her knees up to her chest and rests her chin on top of them. “Try telling Dad that. It seems like no matter what I do, he thinks I can do better. One of these days, I’m going to snap.”