“What?” he asked. “I’m not drunk. I’m fine. And so are you. You’re fine, so fine … ” Nate said, drawing Charlie closer to his side.
Natalie glared at Nate. “Hey, she has a boyfriend. Just because she’s here having a drink with you doesn’t mean she is going to jump into bed with you.”
“Fuck off, Natalie! I don’t see him here now.”
“Either you let her go, or I’ll bash your fucking face in, you prick!”
The craziness, the noise, all of it was suddenly gone when she heard his voice. Charlie felt the heat of his palm on the nape of her neck as he drew her backward into his embrace. Natalie looked smugly at Nathan, and Nathan for his part tried to look tough, but he was no match for Declan.
But in that moment, none of that mattered.
I’m in a shit load of trouble.
Charlie felt it in the way Declan was holding her. His body was tense, poised, and ready to strike if Nathan even made so much as the slightest move toward her.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at the office, Charlie,” Nathan said as he walked away.
“I think I’m going to give Ms. Flynn a ride home,” Declan informed Natalie. “She’s had too much to drink.”
Without another word, Declan led her out of the bar, not releasing her until they reached his car. She stumbled a bit as he opened the car door, his blue eyes ablaze with fury.
“Do not speak. Get. In. The. Car.”
Charlie did so without hesitation, buckling her seat belt as Declan slid into the driver’s side and started the engine. Music blared to life, but he punched a button on the dash, silencing it. The gentle rocking of the car had Charlie clutching her stomach, the nausea churning.
They reached the hotel in record time. Declan came around to the passenger side and opened the door helping Charlie out. He lifted her into his arms and carried her into the lobby and over to the bank of elevators. Once they reached his floor, Declan unlocked the door and carried Charlie inside, straight to the bathroom, where he lifted the toilet seat. Gently, he placed her on the floor in front of it. At the sight of it, Charlie puked. Declan held her hair back from her face, rubbing her back in soothing circles as she purged all the alcohol from her system.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Pearse,” Charlie said as she passed out.
***
When she awoke the next morning, Charlie felt like a stampeding herd of buffalo was roaming free in her head. She sat up, grimacing, surprised to find herself in the warm confines of a bed. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, trying to get her bearings. She glanced around the room. His hotel suite. His bed. Declan.
Charlie glanced to her right, but Declan wasn’t sleeping beside her. In fact, the sheets were undisturbed. She clamored out of bed, smoothing the front of Declan’s football t-shirt. She tiptoed out of the bedroom, and spotted Declan lounging in the leather chair, her journal in his hands.
His hair was damp, like he just got out of the shower, and he was barefoot, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a dark shirt. Normally, he would want her to come to him, but Charlie stood frozen in place unsure of what the protocol may be for this type of situation.
Declan glanced up from Charlie’s journal, his stare meeting hers before she hesitantly dropped her gaze to the floor. Suddenly everything from last night came surging back.
“Mr. Pearse, I—”
“I don’t recall giving you permission to speak,” he said, his voice growing deeper with his anger.
Charlie immediately shut her mouth, fighting back the need to cry. She hated displeasing him. She should have trusted her instincts and not gone out last night, or at the very least texted him.
“You have twenty minutes. Go shower and dress.” He turned away, ignoring her now, his dismissal cutting Charlie deeply.
In the bathroom, Charlie shakily turned the taps to the shower on. She stripped out of his shirt and climbed under the warm water, allowing the shower to wash away last night’s bad decisions. She was physically clean, but Charlie knew she wouldn’t feel better until she had earned Declan’s forgiveness. She wrapped a towel around herself, and brushed her teeth before entering into the bedroom. Declan had laid out an outfit for her to wear. Her head was still pounding, but she refused to complain.
She pulled on the nude lace bra, and the matching panties. Next, she grabbed the green sweater, and the jeans he left for her on the bed. She twisted her hair up into a knot and walked back out into the living room.
Declan spared her a glance and held out his hand. “Here, take these. I’m sure your head must be killing you.”
Charlie took the offered pills, downing them with a glass of water. She took the glass to the kitchenette area, rinsing it out before placing it on the counter, and returning to her spot next to Declan.
He sighed heavily, placing Charlie’s journal face down in his lap. “Kneel.”
Charlie dropped down in front of him, her head bowed.
“I expected more from you.” He sat forward, reaching out to place a finger beneath Charlie’s chin, and lifted her head so that she could see his face. “I’m so disappointed in you.”
Charlie’s hands trembled, her eyes watering and spilling over at his words.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, shaking her head. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Pearse.”
He shot her an impassive look. Her apology meant nothing to him.
“Do you deserve to be punished?”
“Yes, Mr. Pearse.”
He arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Do you want me to punish you?”
“Yes, Mr. Pearse.”
He shook his head, his eyes looking cold. “And you were learning so well.”
Chapter Eight
Aside from his burgeoning relationship with Charlotte over the past month, everything else in Declan’s life returned to the same routine he had prior to his transfer to London. Today wasn’t any different – grabbing a bite after the league basketball game. Yeah, I’m going to stuff my face with a burger and wash it down with some beer, get over it. He and Owen were usually the late arrivals, but today they were the first ones there.
“So tell me about this Miss Flynn,” Owen said as he surveyed the menu, and then snapped it shut. Declan had no idea why he bothered to even open it. Owen always ordered the Steakhouse Burger.
“Charlotte’s very driven and absolutely brilliant. She finished her undergrad in three years and is taking grad courses online while working at Pearse as a researcher. She really is well-versed in …”
Owen shook his head and shrugged as if to say, What the fuck are you talking about? Owen was brilliant in his own right, but he held no interest in the inner workings of a publishing house.
Declan continued. “Anyway, a few weeks ago, when you were off punishing your new pussy, Aaron set me up on a blind date with Charlotte. He’s engaged to her older sister, Michaela. Apparently Michaela has grown tired of Charlotte throwing herself away on books and was determined to get her out of the library and into someone’s arms.”
The waiter brought their drinks, and they explained they were waiting on a couple of others.
Owen glanced back at him. “So does big sister know that little sister is to be your submissive?”
“No, I don’t believe so. Besides, it’s early for that sort of declaration. I haven’t exactly collared her yet.”
Declan didn’t miss the way Owen’s eyes widened. “You’re thinking of collaring her already?”
He waved Owen’s shocked comment off.