Authors: Desiree Holt
She was sure he did. Fallon had the distinct feeling that
people anticipated his every word and provided what he required even before he
asked for it.
“The color of your eyes is striking, Fallon. I don’t think
I’ve ever seen actual violet eyes before.”
“Th-Thank you.” Why was she stammering again?
“You should wear something that accentuates them, as well as
your magnificent hair.” He reached across the table and captured a few strands,
letting them slide over his fingers. “I’m going to have a shopper send
something to your place. Wear it Saturday night when I pick you up.”
She finally found a shred of sanity. “To my house? Wait,
wait, wait. We just met. You can’t buy me clothes.” She tried to clear the fog
from her brain. “And Saturday night? I think I have plans.”
“Cancel them.” He said it as if there was no question that
she’d acquiesce. That it was a foregone conclusion. “I’ll pick you up at
eight.”
Fallon opened her mouth to say something but the door to
their private little room opened and a waiter wheeled in a cart containing a
silver ice bucket. A bottle of wine rested in the bed of crushed ice. The
waiter looked at Brian and, at his nod, uncorked the wine and poured a small
amount into a crystal goblet. Brian took it, let a few drops rest on his tongue
then gave his silent assent to fill the two wineglasses.
“To us.” Brian smiled at her as he touched his glass to
hers. “Yes, definitely to us.”
Fallon lifted the wine to her lips and drank as if she had
no other choice. She had the sense that her world was about to change
drastically.
* * * * *
The present
Fallon hated driving into San Antonio. The trip the other
night with Cord had been her first in more than a year. Otherwise she had her
boundaries. She’d go as far as The Rim or La Cantera, two high-end open-air
malls, but that was it. Fortunately, the restaurant that served her client’s
favorite designer coffees was at La Cantera, so she was still in her comfort
zone.
She’d really had to discipline herself to attend the event
with Cord the other night, more than he’d ever guess. Nothing in the city
appealed to her anymore. The specter of Brian hung over the landscape like a
black fog, coloring everything with evil.
She was well aware of the fact that she’d gone into the
relationship willingly, but occasionally found herself wondering if that was
truly the case. Claire still held to the blood-chilling idea that Brian might
have drugged her during those last months, to keep her placid and willing and
subservient. Just the thought of those days and weeks made her stomach knot,
both arousal and fear swirling inside her like a potent cocktail.
The man was so magnetic, so powerfully attractive. He knew
just what to say and do to reel her in. Even now, while building a healthy life
with Cord, just the mention of Brian’s name stirred up all those memories she
thought she’d buried so deeply.
I love Cord. I love him. I want him.
She had to keep that in mind, always.
Cord was her anchor, the lamp that lit her way.
Growing up in a household as a middle child with
overachieving, unemotional parents and siblings had put Fallon on the road to
the person she’d eventually become. She wasn’t a star in the fields of medicine
or law or science or business, as her parents and siblings were. Summer
internships with public relations companies had shaped her future and led her
down a career path she enjoyed. But the lack of emotional support on all sides
had left an insecurity that continued to lurk even as she’d slowly crafted the
strong, confident woman the world saw when they looked at her.
It also left her with an anxiety where men were concerned.
She’d managed to cut her family out of her life by moving a thousand miles
away, but how did she reprogram herself to make better choices? She didn’t even
know what she was supposed to be looking for. She was drawn by BDSM originally
because she thought it would provide the punishment she subconsciously felt she
needed for being less than expected. Luck or a guardian angel had been with
her, though. The Dom who’d trained her and the others she’d scened with had
taught her it was more about sexual fulfillment than debasement, and she had
finally begun to believe in herself.
She often thought it strange that, considering her
background of emotional neglect, she was a natural sub. A therapist had
explained once that in a healthy D/s relationship, her needs were equally as
important as those of the Dom. But she’d stopped those sessions before her
conflicts were even partially resolved, unwilling to completely strip herself
emotionally bare.
The short succession of men in her life had varied, from
white-collar professionals to those who made a living working with their hands.
All good men. Caring Doms. Praising her as a submissive. Each helping to build
her confidence one block at a time.
Then she’d met Brian, and her world had tilted on its axis.
She was stunned that such a handsome, wealthy, renowned man would be interested
in her, the ghost of a disappointing middle child still clinging to the
recesses of her mind. In the beginning, Brian had simply overwhelmed her,
reeling her in like a hungry fish. He appeared to respect her mind, her
accomplishments in her field. He was attentive. All the things she wanted. By
the time she realized he had adeptly dragged her into a nightmare, she was
trapped in his opulent net, unable to free herself.
He’d drawn her in so carefully and skillfully, teaching her
about extreme pain and delivering such intense pleasure, she began to crave it.
When she wasn’t with him, she had a hard time thinking about anything except
her next powerful orgasm and his praise. The pain that drove her to peaks of
pleasure at his hand.
She’d needed that full year after Claire had pulled her from
the nightmare to find herself again, constantly battling feelings of
worthlessness and the ingrained need to please.
And then she’d met Cord.
Their instant connection made her giddy with pleasure—and
frightened that she didn’t deserve it. But the emotions he stirred in, the love
she felt with him was unlike anything she’d ever had. She basked in it, secure
in the knowledge of his feelings for her, even though at times the past still
nipped at her heels. Her insecurities still lingered, making her wonder if she
really deserved him.
Or if indeed, underneath it all, she was as worthless as
Brian had made her believe.
God, just his name made her stomach clench and a feeling of
nausea roll through her. Even after all this time, she still felt as if she had
to scrub every part of her body inside and out to rid herself of the vestiges
of his control. How sick was that?
She was so preoccupied with her thoughts when she gave her
car to the valet parking attendant, she didn’t look where she was going…
Until she bumped into someone and a hand closed over her arm
.
“Well.” His mouth curved in that seductive smile that hid so
much. “It’s been a very long time, Fallon. I understood you were hiding up in
the Hill Country.”
She looked up to see
him
standing beside her, as if
conjured by her very thoughts.
Brian Willoughby was tall; taller than Cord. So tall that
when he stood next to her, he almost blocked the sun. And broad, every bit of
him hard, solid muscle. His razor-cut blond hair still fell in precise lines to
just above his collar and his deep blue eyes were still as chilly and
penetrating. Power radiated from him, a power tinged with evil that
unfortunately still had the ability to hypnotize Fallon in an instant.
At once her mind and body reacted, and she tried to push
away the programmed response. Disaster and destruction were standing right in
front of her if she didn’t get a grip. She knew exactly how junkies and
alcoholics felt while trying to dry out. Nothing satisfied the sick hunger. Yet
even knowing that, and with Claire’s conversation fresh in her mind, her body
reacted automatically.
Think of Cord.
Fallon forced herself to breathe evenly. Heat burned her
skin where his fingers rested on her arm. His touch was light but it might as well
have been steel talons. She wanted to jerk away but the message didn’t seem to
filter down from her brain.
“You heard wrong.” From somewhere she managed a hint of
defiance in her tone. “I’m not hiding at all.”
“Oh?” He lifted one eyebrow in a too-familiar gesture. “I’ve
missed seeing you.”
His fingers stroked her arm where they held her.
Ohgodohgodohgod
.
She wet her lips. “I was just—reordering my priorities.”
His eyes raked over her. “I’ve missed you.” He took a step
closer, shrinking the space between them. “You’ve missed me too. I know you
have.” He bent his head so his mouth was at her ear. “You’ve missed me fucking
you when you were bound so intricately you couldn’t move a muscle, and I could
plow into you at will.”
His tone had that same compelling quality she couldn’t
forget. She trembled at his words and the gush of fluid into her panties
disgusted her. Yet at the same time, vivid images of the scene he described
flashed into her mind and all the months dropped away. She found herself being
lulled by him again. Falling into the same trap.
No! Cord! Think of Cord!
She extricated herself from his hold—but
damn it
, she
missed his touch as soon as it was gone. “I have a new life. A better life. I
could say it’s been nice running into you, but I’d be lying.”
He reached out and touched her cheek, his knuckles grazing
the skin. The contact sizzled and another kaleidoscope of memories and
sensations bombarded her.
No!
Finding courage she didn’t know she had, she backed away two
steps and glanced at her watch.
“Sorry, Brian. I really have to run.”
She deliberately used his given name rather than the
honorific. She had a new Sir, a better one, and she couldn’t muddy those
waters. Turning quickly, she strode away, never looking back, heels clicking on
the pavement. She managed to make her way through the door and to the
restaurant’s ladies’ room but the moment she was inside, she collapsed against
a wall, heart racing, pulse pounding. She brushed her hand over her forehead
and discovered it covered with perspiration. She leaned over the sink and
looked at herself in the mirror.
God!
Who was that woman looking back at her? Not the strong,
vital, sensual woman who relished Cord’s mastery. No, this woman looked as if
she’d been in a fugue state for a month. Her eyes were glazed, her skin pale,
her hands trembling. She reminded herself of the way she’d looked when Claire
had literally dragged her out of her high-priced prison. And yet…
And yet for an instant, all her defenses had threatened to
crumble and she’d been ready to fall on her knees right there in front of the
people milling around them.
What rotten luck running into Brian, especially after her
conversation with Claire. It should have been a good test, a way to prove she’d
gotten him out of her system. Instead, seeing him made her body vibrate with
need and gave her the sense that she was perched on the edge of a precipice.
And if she fell, it wouldn’t be Cord who caught her.
Even now, as Cord’s image swam before her, it was Brian’s
face she saw.
Sick. It was a sickness. She knew it yet she couldn’t seem
to find a permanent cure. So what did that say about her?
Cord will take one look at me and know. He’ll paddle my
ass and it’s no more than I deserve.
She ran cold water over her wrists and dried them, lightly
patting her face. Fresh lipstick helped, as did a swipe of blush. Glancing at
her watch, she realized she had only moments before her client meeting.
Afterward, she’d go home and immediately make herself presentable for Cord.
But he’ll know. Oh god.
* * * * *
Cord hung his Stetson on a peg in the back hall and toed off
his boots. They were covered in mud and various other substances and badly
needed cleaning, but at the moment he was just too tired. He and the hands had
spent most of the day riding the fence line and making sure every pasture was
secure before his new shipment of cattle arrived. They’d been a steal at an
auction and he couldn’t resist. The bank had extended a substantial line of
credit and that was the perfect reason to tap into it.
Everything was coming together much better than he could
have hoped. The herd was finally at the size it needed to be and in the spring
there would be new calves. The pastures of coastal hay were in good shape. And
the work on the event center was nearly finished. Next week, he’d work with the
hands who’d be leading trail rides and giving lessons and offering other guest
activities, and oversee the finishing touches to the stables.
At least he could relax where the party was concerned.
Fallon was working her magic with an ease that he admired. He smiled as he
thought about how much pleasure she brought to all areas of his life. After the
party, after the post-event details were seen to, he planned to take her away
for a long weekend where he could tie her to the bed and pleasure both of them
in as many ways as he could dream up.
Just the thought of that was enough to make his cock harden
and strain against the fly of his jeans.
In the bedroom, he stripped off his clothes and dumped them
in the hamper, then stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He was
so aroused he was almost tempted to take himself in hand and smooth out the
edge while the hot water poured over him. Then he thought about Fallon, who was
due home very soon, and decided he had much better ways to satisfy his lust.
He was just wrapping the bath towel around his hips when he
heard her moving around in the bedroom. He opened the bathroom door,
smiling—until he took a good look at her and his body tensed. Nearly all the
color was gone from her face, her soft-pink lipstick seeming like a slash of
vivid red in comparison. Her movements as she undressed were jerky, not smooth,
as usual. Her body language was that of someone who had been through an
emotional wringer.