“Five seconds, Cortland.” My fist clenches at my side, aching and restrained.
He hesitates before shaking his head, his laser stare never leaving me until he brushes past me. Fortunately for him, our shoulders didn’t graze, or we’d have had ourselves a good, old-fashioned sparring and not of the gentleman variety.
“Gary, you there?” I speak into the receiver to the security guard. “Make sure Cortland McGregor exits the premises. And he’s not allowed in this building again. Blacklist him.”
After a careful inspection of Bellamy’s things, I ensure nothing has been taken or moved out of place before heading back to my office.
“Where’d you go?” she asks, stepping out of the bathroom and wrapped in a fluffy towel. Her creamy skin glistens, and it takes everything I have not to gnaw on my knuckles as I feast on her elegance. Her bare feet graze the carpet before she rises on her tip toes, leaning against the doorway and flashing a devilish smile.
“Took care of some business.” I straighten the knot of my tie and take a seat at my desk, refusing to let her out of my sight because a freshly showered beauty is the most exquisite thing in the world. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
“If you’re not too busy being all mysterious,” she says, sauntering toward me and bending to pick her clothes off the floor, “would you mind letting me know if I could get dressed? Please?”
“How do we ask?”
“Please, Master, may I get dressed?”
“You may.” I yank a drawer open and pull out two tiny clamps. “But first.”
“What are those?”
“They’re for you to wear,” I say, eyeing the pointed peaks of her round breasts.
Her eyes grow wide. “They look painful.”
“My goal isn’t to hurt you, Bellamy. We’ve gone over this before.” I wait for her safeword, which never comes, so I squeeze the clamps over her soft pink buds. They spring awake once more. Lucky for her these are meant for novices, beginners. They’re not painful, just stimulating. “You’re to wear these under your clothes until five o’clock tonight. They’re inconspicuous, so no one will know they’re there. Except for you. You’ll notice them at all times, and you’re to imagine I’m touching you. And by the end of the day, you’ll wish I was touching you, but sadly for you, I have to attend a dinner with my brother and Odessa since they’re flying home in the morning.”
She pouts her bottom lip and promptly winces.
“How do you feel, Angel?”
“Tender. Sensitive.” Her fingertips trace the plastic clamps lightly. “But in a good way.”
“Perfect.”
“You’ll return them to me before you leave for the day,” I say, standing and grabbing a nearby portfolio. “I’m going to run a few errands, and then I’ve got a presentation to give at the local energy co-op.”
Tugging her bra into place, she stops when the lace cups catch the clamps. Bellamy winces. “You’re just going to leave me all day? Like this?”
I place the portfolio aside and strut up to her, dragging my hands down the sides of her bare arms to get one last touch before she’s covered up again. My lips warm at the thought of kissing her ruby pout before I go, but I won’t.
She needs to want it, and she needs to want it now. It’s part of her punishment. I spent the better part of a week and a half craving her, fantasizing about all the things I wanted to do to her. It all came to a peak just before the night I was to finally take her as mine. The rug was swept out.
My punishments always fit the crime, and in this case. Bellamy is going to want me, no need me, more than she’s ever needed anything in her young adult life…
Because last weekend, that’s how badly I needed her.
TWENTY-TWO
BELLAMY
They say it’s not the package that counts but what’s inside.
And that’s precisely why my heart jumps into my throat when I pull out the weird, c-shaped, rubberized toy Dane gifted me on his way out of the office today.
Monday it was the nipple clamps.
Tuesday it was an hour in a chastity device while he tickled and teased every part of me without so much as going near the fiery furnace between my thighs.
Wednesday it was the elaborate restraint system that held me spread eagle while he examined every part of my body, describing it in the most sexually stimulating way he possibly could, and then proceeding to explain, in detail, what he would do to me if I weren’t still on punishment.
Today, it’s this contraption…
A wireless vibrator controlled only by him.
He’s been screwing my mind all week, but this feels like a move in the right direction.
Finally.
I’m to insert it the moment I get the text tonight, and he’s going to tease me from wherever he happens to be at that time. The caveat? I’m still not allowed to orgasm.
I shove the box under my bed and tuck it behind a group of empty shoes boxes. I would absolutely die if anyone in this household happened to see this. My only hope is that the thing is quiet, because this is an old house, and these walls are paper-thin.
The clock reads seven, which means it’s time to help get the younger kids to bed. I hop down the hall and take the stairs two at a time until I land in the family room and promptly help my mothers pick up puzzle pieces and Legos while the kids pretend like they’re doing the work.
I know that trick…
“It’s so weird not seeing Cortland this week.” My mother bends to reach for a stuffed rabbit and tucks it under her arm. “Have you heard from him, Bellamy?”
“I haven’t. He’s probably busy working.”
The truth is, I have absolutely no clue what happened.
It’s bizarre.
I thought it was odd he wasn’t here after work on Monday, but I let it go thinking he’d text or call me like he always does. And Tuesday, when I came home, I fully expected his car to be parked out front but it wasn’t. By Wednesday, my father was beginning to get worried, so I put on a good face and called Cortland, leaving a sweet voicemail when he didn’t answer. He wasn’t even at Bible study that night.
But today? Thursday? Still nothing.
Not that I’m complaining.
I’m jumping for joy on the inside, praising destiny and karma and whoever else had a role in removing Cortland McGregor from my life.
“Something’s up. I can feel it.” Summer dumps a handful of Legos into a plastic tote and snaps the lid. She’s always claiming she’s sensitive or something, like she can predict the weather or the outcome of a baseball game. My father would scold her if she ever said she was psychic. We’re not allowed to talk about anything in this house that the Bible condemns. “I mean, a man just doesn’t turn cold. Something happened. Are you sure you two didn’t have a falling out? You seemed a little distant on Saturday when his family was here.”
Oh, so it’s automatically my fault?
“Oh, yeah? I thought everything went well. I had a great time,” I lie. “Maybe he’s traveling for work this week. Or maybe he changed his mind or met someone else. It could be anything. I’m not going to stress about it.”
“I might have your father give Walter a call to find out what’s going on,” Mom says, chucking a velveteen rabbit into a basket of animal stuffed orphans in the corner.
“That’s not necessary.” My face pinches and I swat her offer away. “We’re adults. We’ll figure it out. Plenty of fish in the sea.”
Maybe I should be moping around like some heartbroken princess, but I couldn’t hide my relief if I tried so I’m taking the calm and cool approach.
“You were so crazy about him, Bellamy,” Kath sighs from across the room. “I’d hate to see you get hurt.”
Trust me, ladies. That’s one thing you will not need to worry about.
“Can we not talk about this? You guys are stressing me out.” I turn my back to them so they won’t see the enormous grin consuming my face.