“Go on.”
“Then two years is plenty of time for you to set plans in motion for BHI’s future, help my father see we need some restructuring. I’m not suggesting it won’t be a lot of work. But I’ve already seen what you can do when you focus your energy.”
“Well played,” he approved.
“As for addendum A—”
“The one outlining your role as my submissive.”
A pretty shade of pink stained her cheeks, and she swirled her straw before looking up at him. “I’m willing to agree to all of that in exchange for the two-year concession.”
“You drive a hard bargain.”
“Which means we have an agreement,” she said.
“I’ll send you a revised copy today. We can be married Friday afternoon.”
Slowly, she nodded. “I wondered about that time you had blocked off on your calendar.”
“For you.” Then he amended, “Us.”
“You’ll handle the arrangements?”
“If that’s what you want. If it’s important to you that you make the plans—”
“It’s not.”
He wondered how true that was. But her eyes gave nothing away. “I have a friend who’s a judge. We can go to his office. Or I’m sure he’ll be willing to meet at mine.”
“Let’s go to his. Fewer people that we may have to explain to.”
“As for witnesses?”
For long minutes, she toyed with her straw. He wondered belatedly if she’d even taken a sip. “I don’t want to invite anyone.”
Julien’s words about every woman wanting a wedding haunted him again. But then, he reminded himself, it didn’t mean she wouldn’t have a real one. Just not to him.
That thought brought him up short. The idea of her with someone else, looking forward to the future with another man, pissed him off, though rationally he knew it shouldn’t. “I’d like you to move in sooner, rather than later.”
“How soon?”
“Tonight.”
This time, she met his gaze fully.
“We’ll need to touch base with your mother and ensure we have an agenda put together for the meeting. We have a script that we need to write, and we’ll want to practice it so it flows well. It would be nice to have your mother’s feedback on it.”
“She’d love that.”
“It will be easier to do if we’re together.”
He saw the battle rage across her face. First came her frown of denial. It was followed by her rolling her head in a slow motion. Finally, she gave him a sharp nod. “Agreed.”
What he didn’t tell her was that he’d be there to hold her, protect her, shore her up when doubt about her dad, about them, crept in. “You can pick me up after work, and we’ll go to your house to pack up a few things.”
“With the way you’re dressed?”
“I have a change of clothes in my office.”
“Of course you do.”
“We’ll get a crew for anything big, but the two of us should be able to manage the personal items that you’ll be needing.”
She moved the drink to the side. It was still full, and condensation dripped down the outside of the plastic cup. “Is fast the only speed you know?”
“I’ve learned that we don’t always have as much time on the earth as we think we do. Tomorrow we have the board meeting. Wednesday we need to select rings. Pick me up at five?”
“I should get back,” she told him, and her voice sounded strained.
He nodded.
After dropping her back in front of BHI, he returned to work. The first thing he did was call up their prenuptial agreement. He changed the term of the contract to two years and made the confidentiality agreement more expansive, noting the information could be shared as long as they were in accord. Before he sent it to her for perusal, he couldn’t help but scan addendum A.
Already, she’d been incredible during their sex play, adventurous and eager. He couldn’t remember having been with anyone who was more perfect for him.
The opportunity to have her in his bed every night vanquished the doubts that Julien’s words had raised.
Satisfied, he sent it over to her then got back to work.
A few minutes later, she sent him a fairly standard non-disclosure agreement. Smart woman. Within half an hour, she sent him back the prenuptial contract.
Confused, he opened it and didn’t immediately see any changes. Instead of assuming there were none, he opened a program to compare the two documents. There was a change, to addendum B.
Wife does not cook.
He grinned.
Instead of revising the contract, he sent her an email.
Husband agrees.
Within minutes, she informed him that their duly revised prenuptial had been forwarded to her personal attorney for further review and reminded him that the lawyer would no doubt advise that his addenda would never stand up in court.
In that case, I’d like dinner on the table at 5:30 every night.
Her reply was almost instant.
What do attorneys know, anyway?
He appreciated her attempts to make things easier between them. She didn’t have to, he knew. So her efforts were doubly appreciated.
By the time she pulled up to the curb a few hours later, he was dressed in casual clothes and waiting for her. To her credit, she was two minutes early.
“You don’t mind if I drive?” she asked when he shut his door.
“Why? Are you terrible at it?”
“Of course not.” She checked her mirrors before pulling onto the street. “I thought it might be something that you wanted to control.”
“I appreciate that. But, no. My father’s accident was a random-odds thing. A tire cut by debris, combined with speed and the angle of impact.” He could discuss that part of it dispassionately. He’d read the report, saw the logic, could recite the facts. It was the emotional loss that he’d never sorted through.
She stopped for a traffic signal, and he looked at her. Since it was after hours, she’d taken off her jacket, leaving her arms bare.
“What?” she asked, glancing over at him.
“I’m thinking about later.”
“What part?”
He swept his gaze over her, his intention clear, and her breath caught.
“Oh. That,” she said.
That
was real—and good—between them.
He suggested they stop at the local hardware store for boxes then he asked a customer service representative for help finding the black electrical tape.
“Electrical tape?” Lara asked as they headed toward the appropriate aisle.
“For your nipples,” he reminded her.
She gasped. “You can’t be serious.”
“You never know.”
The whole time they checked out, she looked from him, to the tape, then back.
While they drove to her house, he asked if she had a favorite local Chinese restaurant.
She handed over her phone and told him the name. “It’s under my favorites tab.”
“What do you want?”
“Mongolian beef. Spicy. And crab wontons. And eggrolls.”
“You hungry?”
She shrugged. “I missed lunch.”
He called in the order and asked for it to be delivered around six-thirty. After he hung up, he said to her, “Why am I not surprised you ordered the spiciest thing on the menu?”
“How do you know that?”
“The man on the phone said so.”
Suzy-Q greeted them when they got out of the car.
First, she put her giant paws on his shoulders and gave him a sloppy upstroke kiss. Then she did the same to Lara.
Mrs. Fuhrman came running out of her house, wearing pink rollers in her blueish-purple hair and waving a leash.
“I’ve no idea what’s gotten into her,” the woman said. “She never misbehaves.”
Connor met Lara’s gaze and they both suppressed their smiles.
Connor clipped the mastiff mix back onto her leash and turned her over to Mrs. Fuhrman.
“You’re the moving man, aren’t you?”
“You could say that,” he replied, grabbing a handful of boxes from the trunk.
“We’ll miss you, Lara,” Mrs. Fuhrman said. Then, making soothing sounds to Suzy-Q, she took the dog home.
“I’m convinced she sends the dog over here,” Connor said.
“It’s the only way she gets to talk to a handsome man.”
“In that case—”
“Wait. I take it back.”
“You think I’m handsome,” he said.
“I forgot about the colossal ego.”
He grinned. “Can you grab the bag with the electrical tape?”
She shot him a scowl, but did as he asked.
Inside, he began to tape boxes together, and she answered the door when the food arrived.
She set it all out on the counter, then took out paper plates and napkins and two bottles of Shiner Bock, his favorite beer. And it was Texas made.
The whole time she worked, her gaze kept straying to the electrical tape. “Seriously, what’s it for?”
“Your nipples.”
She sighed.
They went into the backyard to eat, and he had to concede the place was gorgeous.
He uncapped the beers, and they touched the tops together.
She demolished a couple of wontons and an eggroll before diving into the Mongolian beef. The amount that she consumed before taking a drink surprised him. “So the choking thing on the crushed red peppers last night was an isolated incident.”
“I told you.”
For a few minutes, they sat together on the swing, and he understood what she meant about her house. It was an ideal place for backyard barbecues, for family time. Definitely a contrast to his urban fervor.
“Only thing that could make it perfect is a hot tub,” she said.
If he lived here, he’d definitely install one.
They returned inside and she cleaned up the kitchen.
“What are the most important things for you to take for now? We need to get through the next few days and we should get back to my place as soon as we can to give us adequate time to work. We can come back over the weekend and take care of the rest of the stuff.”
She nodded. “Shoes. Clothing. My notebook computer. Well, all my electronics. Running shoes. Workout clothes. My curling iron. Brushes. Makeup. Shampoo.”
“Magnolia soap.”
“I think I left some at your house.”
“It will be all gone tonight.”
“It will? Okay, then. Magnolia soap.”
“What do you want me to pack?”
“Actually…none of it. I want to be sure I have what I need.”
“Okay. You pack. I’ll load the car.”
“That will work.”
“But first…”
She was headed toward the bedroom, but she stopped. “Yes?”
He cut off four pieces of the electrical tape and lined them up along the kitchen counter. “Unfasten your bra.”
“What…?” she asked, but her voice had a dreamy, rather than outraged, quality.
“I want you aware of addendum A. And nipple clamps would be cruel. You’ll be aware of the tape, though.”
“Connor… Sir…”
“Unfasten your bra, Lara.”
She reached beneath her shirt and did so.
“Now lift your shirt.” He picked off two of the pieces and went to her.
He squeezed her nipple gently, then harder. Then, when she closed her eyes, with even more force. He tugged it, yanked it, made it hard, pulled her onto her toes and caught her when she moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck.
He kissed the side of her neck, inhaled her scent, unable to get enough of her. She’d said she’d had a rough night, but the truth was, so had he. He’d wanted her with him, thought about her, considered all the ways he wanted to claim her and make sure she knew she was his.
He set her back from him. While her nipple was still like a tiny rock, he put the tape on, in the shape of an X.
“That’s…”
“How is it?”
“Tight. Uncomfortable.”
“On a scale of one to ten. The lower end merely being an irritant.”
“Two,” she replied after some consideration.
“Good. Now the other one.” He repeated the process, tormenting her until she moaned and begged him to either stop or let her have an orgasm. “That’s the reward for finishing the move,” he replied. He went over to the kitchen counter for the other pieces of tape. After the second X was in place he nodded, pleased. “Incentive,” he told her. For both of them. “You’re welcome to refasten your bra or leave it off, your call. But if I had my way, you’d wear a white T-shirt and that demi-bra you wore to my office last Friday.”
“I think a sports bra,” she countered, “so I feel nothing and my breasts don’t move at all.”
He followed her into the bedroom and watched her change into a pair of shorts. She hesitated before pulling out a white T-shirt. Then deliberately, very deliberately, she opened her second drawer and selected a demi-bra.
He was reminded, again, that she was the perfect sub.
She pulled off her blouse and tossed it onto the covers of her unmade bed. Then she removed the bra she’d worn to work.
Finally she put on the demi-bra, and he moved into adjust it for her, folding down the little line of lace and positioning her breasts in the cups so that he could see most of the electrical tape.
She didn’t protest, and she kept her gaze on him. Trust was there, and he treasured it. Through her shirt, he traced the X on each of her breasts. “I can’t wait to take it off later.”
“I think it will hurt.”
“I’m sure it will.”
Lara closed her eyes and pressed her lips together.
“Your responses are intoxicating,” he told her.
“I think the tape feels tighter.”
“Even better. Now let’s get on with it.”
She turned away, and he swatted her ass. Giving a yelp, she headed for the bathroom.
A few minutes later, he took a box to her. She’d piled a bunch of personal effects on the vanity, and he said, “Go ahead and pack other stuff while I handle this.”
For an hour, they worked together. She’d pull out her items, he’d put them in a box, seal it and stow it in the car. “Anything else?” he asked, heading back inside after filling up the trunk. “We’ve still got room on the back seat.”
He found her on the floor, kneeling in front of her nightstand. She quickly closed the drawer.
“What do you have?”
“Nothing I need. It can stay here.”
“Show me.”
“This.” She opened the drawer and pulled out a small bullet vibrator.