The Submission of Alistair Ingram (8 page)

His
only answer was the door opening and closing and her heels clicking as she
walked away.

Unbreakable

“Hey!”
Alistair yelled from inside the men’s room. “Bethany!” She heard a bang like
he’d kicked the wall.
“Mistress!”

Oh,
he was pissed. Pretty Boy needed some time to cool down.

Bethany
stood in the lobby plunking quarters into the beverage vending machine. She was
dying for a Sprite.

“This
is
not
fucking funny!”

It
wasn’t meant to be funny. She pressed the button, and the bottle of soda
dropped to the bottom of the machine.

“When
I get out of here, you are so fucked. Do you hear me? Are you out there?”

She
grinned and took a sip of her Sprite. She was fucked regardless. Her ex would
find her if she ever went back to Vegas. She was homeless, jobless and toying
with a Hollywood Pretty Boy.

Not
her style, but with Alistair, she couldn’t resist. He was such an egomaniac.
Breaking him would prove she was no man’s sub. No man’s Doll. Ever since
stepping foot into Dolls and Doms ten years ago, she’d been trying to prove it
to herself and everyone else. She didn’t need to be taken care of, wouldn’t be
treated like a pet and left for dead. She’d learned her lesson and turned over
her leaf.

She’d
done well wielding a whip instead of being the one chained to the bed. Better
than she expected. She’d shown herself she was strong. She was independent. She
was still alive.

One
beautiful face from the big screen sauntering his happy—and insanely nice—ass
into her life wasn’t going to turn her world back around.

She’d
break him.

He’d
learn.

“Bethany!
Get your ass back in here and let me out!”

She
glanced out the windows to the parking lot. The S.U.V. wasn’t back yet. She
still had time. She sat on a bench and took another sip of her soda.

The
doors swung open, and two older women walked in. One had a cane that made loud
thumps on the floor every time she took a step.

“Hello?”
Alistair yelled.

The
women looked at each other and kept creeping slowly on their elderly legs
toward the women’s room.

“Get
me out of here!”

Bethany
swung her crossed leg and sipped her Sprite, smiling at the two women.

“Does
someone in there need help?” the plump one in pink asked, pointing to the men’s
room.

She
shook her head. “He’s fine.”

“Are
you sure?” The woman turned her gaze to the men’s room.

Bethany
nodded, still smiling. “I’m sure.”

“Maybe
we should call the police,” the woman with the cane said, raising an eyebrow
and shooting Bethany with a narrow gaze.

Bethany
shrugged, took another sip and screwed the cap back on her soda. Out of the
corner of her eye, she saw the black S.U.V. pull into the same parking space it
had occupied ten minutes earlier.

“There’s
our ride,” Bethany said, standing and strolling past the two women. “I should
probably unlock him now.” Making a show of it, she searched every pocket in her
handbag. “Hmm…wonder where I put that handcuff key.”

Startled,
the women hurried into the women’s restroom. Bethany laughed as she took long,
even strides back into the men’s. “Miss me, Pretty Boy?”

He
let out an evil laugh. “You’re screwed. You know that, right? This won’t stand
without payback.”

She
pushed open the stall door and stood in front of him. “That’s not the best way
to get your Mistress to let you out of cuffs. Maybe you need some more time.”

“No!
You’re crazy! Get me the fuck out of here!”

Darting
a hand out, she ripped his blindfold down around his neck. His eyes blazed with
anger.

“Eyes
down,” she commanded.

He
didn’t obey.

Bethany
stepped forward, straddling him, pressing her chest against his face. She
pulled the back of his hair so he was looking up at her. “How did you know I
didn’t leave the building?”

Alistair
glared at her. “I didn’t.”

She
tugged his hair harder. “You kept yelling for me. You knew I was in the lobby.
How did you know?”

He
pulled against the handcuffs. “Let me go.” His voice was deep, cold. Lethal.

Bethany
lowered her lips to his, brushing a kiss across the corner of his mouth, his
cheek, his chin. “Tell me,” she whispered. “How did you know I was out there?”

He
didn’t speak. She lowered herself down onto his lap and ran her hands up and
down his chest. He was tense. Bethany realized she’d really freaked him out.
But, she hadn’t pushed him too far. He had to admit it to her.

She
traced the rigid cord down the side of his neck with her tongue. He tilted his
head toward her. Finally, a response. She was getting somewhere.

She
lowered her hands to his abs and kneaded her fingertips slowly while she kissed
and sucked his neck. “Tell me,” she whispered again.

“I
didn’t think you’d leave me,” he said, turning his head to capture her lips.

She
moved, and he caught her jaw. The rasp of the stubble on his chin as his mouth
worked back and forth across her skin made her back arch. He felt so good.

“You
trusted me,” she said. “Didn’t you?”

Alistair
lifted his head, stopping his delicious trail of kisses. “I wanted to.”

Bethany
wove her fingers into his hair and stared him in the eyes. “You do, and you
will.”

“I
thought you said I shouldn’t.” He leaned forward, and she didn’t move this
time, letting his lips crush against hers. The flick of his tongue seeking
entrance sent a scorching wave of heat through her body.  She sighed, relaxed
into him and parted her lips.

The
kiss was different. It wasn’t a battle for control. It was a giving in. Him to
her…and damn if it wasn’t her to him.

She
jerked back and jumped up with the realization. Her heart collided with her
ribcage.

“What?”
Alistair stared at her. “You’re afraid again. I’m not mad. Don’t freak.”

Bethany
shook her head and knelt to retrieve the handcuff keys from her duffle bag.
“I’m not freaking.”

But
she was. What the hell was that? She melted with a kiss. So much for being a
Dom and in control.

She
shoved the key into the lock of his left cuff and let his wrist loose. Moving
on to his right wrist, Alistair gently set his hand on her waist. “Bethany, I’m
not mad at you.”

She
jammed the key into the lock, got the cuff off and threw it as hard as she
could into her bag. “I’m mad at me.”

He
chuckled and sat back, rubbing his wrists. “Woman, you are seriously messed
up.”

That’s
not what she needed to hear. Didn’t he realize she already knew that? She’d
never be normal again, so he shouldn’t have kissed her like she was.

“Get
the bag,” she said, kicking the door open and striding out of the men’s room.

She
heard him behind her, heard the clink of her toys in the bag. When she exited
the building and saw the cop cars, her breath caught.

Two
officers were walking toward them. “Drop the bag,” one called, reaching for his
gun.

Alistair
dropped it at his feet. Bethany covered her mouth with her hands in shock.

This
couldn’t be happening. Those fucking old women should’ve minded their own
business.

“What’s
this about?” Alistair asked, raising his arms like he was under arrest.

“We
got a call about a man yelling for help inside the men’s room,” the officer
said, slowly approaching. The other was speaking cop-code into his
walkie-talkie. “Was that you?”

Bethany
saw the flip of the switch—Alistair was on-stage, the boyish grin taking over
his face, charm oozing out of every pore. “It was me,” he said. “I apologize
for scaring anyone. I’m an actor, and this woman is helping me prepare for a
movie roll.”

The
officer’s eyes widened in recognition and he lowered his gun. “I know you!
You’re the guy from that movie. The one with the rings and the elves, right?”

Alistair’s
jaw clenched for a brief moment. “Among other things, yes.” He held out his
hand for the officer to shake. “Alistair Ingram, nice to meet you.”

Bethany
detected the British accent sneaking into his words. You couldn’t tell by
looking at him, but she knew he was uncomfortable.

They
shook hands, and the second officer approached. “This is Alistair Ingram,” the
first said, “you know, the actor.”

“Right,”
the second officer said. “I saw you on the news this morning. Rough weekend in
Vegas, huh?” He chuckled and pumped Alistair’s hand once.

Alistair
kept his cool, smiling and gesturing to Bethany. “That was a big media
misunderstanding,” he said. “This lovely woman works in Vegas at Dolls &
Doms and has agreed to train me for a role in an upcoming movie I’m hoping to
land. I’m sure you’ve heard of the book,
Hues of Black and Blue
? It’s
hugely popular right now.”

“Right,
yeah,” the second one said, nudging the first officer. “Didn’t you say your
wife was reading that.”

“She
sure is,” the officer said, grinning. “I love that book.”

The
three men laughed. “Well, I’m sorry to have caused any problems,” Alistair
said.

The
officers waved it off as no big deal. “No problem.”

“Any
way I can get an autograph?” the second asked.

“Of
course,” Alistair said. “Got a pen and something to write on?”

Bethany
watched as he took care of business, his cool demeanor never slipping. He was a
man used to being in control. Even when he wasn’t, he acted.

How
could she even consider attempting to break him? He was unbreakable.

The
kiss in the men’s room flooded her mind.

The
only one who would get broken in this deal was her, and she couldn’t allow that
to happen. She had to get far, far away from Alistair Ingram.

Welcome
to La La Land

Alistair
couldn’t begin to guess what the hell was wrong with Bethany. She was the one
who locked
him
up in the men’s room of a rest stop.
He
was the
one who had to talk his way out of the shit storm she created when the cops
came. And she somehow had the nerve to ignore him the rest of the way to Los
Angeles?

Whatever.

He
wasn’t in the habit of begging women to talk to him, and he wouldn’t start with
her.

But
damn if it wasn’t making him fucking crazy.

The
driver pulled into Alistair’s driveway, stopping momentarily at the gate to
punch in the code.

Alistair
watched Bethany’s eyes roam back and forth across the expanse of his modern
two-story estate. He’d bought it on his—now ex—fiancé’s request, but it wasn’t
really his style. The floor to ceiling windows he could do without, and the
squareness of the entire house…it seemed unnatural for something to be that
asymmetrical. But it was his now, even though the woman who’d chosen it was
not. Thank God Heather hadn’t moved in with him yet, and he wouldn’t have to go
through the pain in the ass of getting her and her crap out.

He
should feel bad about the break-up, but he hadn’t given it one thought. It
wasn’t something he’d been serious about and wasn’t something he figured would
last more than a year anyway.

“What
do you think?” he asked Bethany.

She
shrugged. “Looks like a library. A big library, but a library.”

He
laughed. It did look like a fucking library. Or a museum. “I’ll probably sell
it.”

The
S.U.V. stopped. “Where’s the closest hotel?” she asked.

Her
words smacked him like a sharp hand to the face. “You’re not staying at a
hotel.” He gestured to the enormous house. “I have ten guest rooms. You’re
staying here.”

She
shook her head, adamant. “No. I’m not staying here with you.”

“Bullshit
you’re not. Get out of the car.” Alistair shoved his door open, slid out and
slammed it closed. He was on the opposite side before she could protest,
opening her door and grabbing her by the arm. “We’re not arguing about this.
The whole reason you’re here is because of your ex. You were on the news
because of me, and I’m not going to feel like a douchebag when something
happens to you because I let you stay in a hotel. Now get your ass inside.”

The
look she gave him could burn cities to the ground, crumble empires.