Betting on Fate
Author: Katee Robert
Date: 2014-12-24 08:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Contemporary; Fiction; Adult; Erotic Romance; M F Romance; Contemporary Romance; Erotica; Bdsm; Romance
Description: *This time, all bets are off...* Penelope Carson loves to steal clients from Will Reaver. Yet something in her business nemesis's icy blue eyes makes Penelope... *nervous*. It certainly doesn't help that the man is the living embodiment of a Norse god. A controlled, powerful Norse god. Which she really should have remembered before she made a bet with him—because losing means becoming Will's personal submissive for a week. There's nothing Will would like more than to have Penelope kneeling before him in complicit submission, her fiery dark eyes inviting him in. *Challenging* him. But their bet
Publisher: Entangled: Brazen

This time, all bets are off...

Penelope Carson loves to steal clients from Will Reaver. Yet something in her business nemesis’s icy blue eyes makes Penelope...nervous. It certainly doesn’t help that the man is the living embodiment of a Norse god. A controlled, powerful Norse god. Which she really should have remembered before she made a bet with him—because losing means becoming Will’s personal submissive for a week.

There’s nothing Will would like more than to have Penelope kneeling before him in complicit submission, her fiery dark eyes inviting him in. Challenging him. But their bet takes Will and Penelope deeper than either of them have ever been. Where control is an illusion, and boundaries are pushed aside. And where hearts become the stakes in a game that neither Dominant nor submissive can win...

Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author

Explore the Serve miniseries…

Owned by Fate
Exposed by Fate
Mistaken by Fate

Also by Katee Robert

Come Undone series
Wrong Bed, Right Guy
Chasing Mrs. Right
Two Wrongs, One Right
Seducing Mr. Right
Out of Uniform series
In Bed with Mr. Wrong
His to Keep
Seducing the Bridesmaid
Meeting His Match
Mistaken by Fate
Sanctify series
The High Priestess
Queen of Swords
Queen of Wands

If you love sexy romance, one-click these steamy Brazen releases…

One Night of Sin
Down on Her Knees
No Romance Required
Down for the Count

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 by Katee Robert. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Entangled Publishing, LLC

2614 South Timberline Road

Suite 109

Fort Collins, CO 80525

Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

Brazen is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC. For more information on our titles, visit www.brazenbooks.com.

Edited by Heather Howland

Cover design by Heather Howland

Photography by Jenn LeBlanc/Illustrated Romance

ISBN 978-1-63375-190-3

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition January 2015

To Mom. For all the support and always knowing the right thing to say.

Chapter One

Penelope Carson smiled at the man across the desk. She’d nailed her presentation, and John actually looked really excited about the plans she had for the Falcon Bar. She all but had this deal signed. “Thank you for your time.”

He stood and shook her hand, and she tried not to hold his limp handshake against him. Her father had always told her that a handshake was the best way to get a read on a man, and John Starker was coming across as a weak-willed follower.

She took a deep breath, and dialed her smile up a notch. Business was different now than it had been a decade ago. She was bringing Carson & Associates into the future. That meant letting go of some of the assumptions of the past—and making a significant amount of personal sacrifices along the way.

It didn’t mean she had to enjoy his sweaty palms, though.

“When can I expect to hear from you?” she asked.

“I have a few more interviews today, but the decision will be made before tomorrow evening.”

It would have been nice if he told her he was sending the other consultants away, but she understood. Manhattan might have enough failing businesses to keep her living in luxury until she was an old woman, but word got around. John was covering his ass, and she could appreciate that even if she didn’t particularly like it. “Wonderful.”

“I look forward to working with you.”

She left the room with a bounce in her step. He’d all but confirmed his choice, other consultants or not. Tonight, she was celebrating. Penelope nodded at John’s secretary, Rochelle, but the woman didn’t greet her like she expected. Instead, she raised her eyebrows and motioned somewhat frantically. Weird. Penelope followed the motion and froze.

Will Reaver stood with his back to her, his attention apparently on the announcement board near the door. Damn it, what was he doing here? Even as the thought crossed her mind, she kicked herself for asking it. Of course he’d be here. They often crossed paths in competition for accounts, and it looked like this was just another in a long list she’d snatched out from beneath his nose. She put a little more weight into her steps, her heels clicking over the wood floors.

She didn’t flinch when he turned, but only because she’d had a chance to prepare herself. Will’s face always made her miss a step. It didn’t seem to matter how much she despised him or how often they shared vicious little conversations—one look into those icy blue eyes and her stomach started doing somersaults. It started again now, her nerves increasing as the distance between them decreased. He looked like some sort of Norse god who had decided to throw on a suit and play at being a respectable human being. Except that wasn’t right. He wore that suit like he’d been born in it, his wide shoulders filling it out to perfection and his slacks hinting at equally massive thighs beneath the fabric.

Crap. She jerked her gaze up, but it was too late. He’d caught her checking him out. One of his eyebrows inched up, his painfully perfect mouth twitching into something that on another person would be a smile. On Will’s face, it was a smirk. “Penelope.”

She stopped just out of reach. Not that his touching her was really a concern—he seemed to go out of his way to avoid even the smallest chance of brushing against her. “Will.”

As she stood there, it was an effort not to count the paces between them. She felt like a gunslinger in the Old West, meeting this man at high noon, ready to duel to the death. It was a silly notion, but she couldn’t shake it.

He looked her up and down. “My twin told me the strangest story a while back. Apparently while speaking to him, you insinuated that you and I had an intimate history.”

“Did I?” She most definitely had. It was too much fun to pull at Will’s whiskers, and doing it via his twin had been an added bonus.

“You did. Don’t do it again.”

Annoyance flared that he thought he could dole out commands and she’d automatically obey.

“Will Reaver.” Rochelle’s voice saved her from saying something unforgivable in front of witnesses.

They glanced at the secretary and then Will turned back to Penelope, all expression gone from his face. “I’ll be seeing you.”

She hated how he could do that, could rile her with a few choice words and then walk away as if none of it really mattered. She made herself stand there and wait for him to disappear through the office door. To do anything else would reek of running away, and she refused to give him the satisfaction. As soon as the door closed behind him, she turned a smile on the secretary. “Thank you so much for calling me, Rochelle.”

“Sure thing, Pen.” The older woman grinned right back. “Your father was one of the best, so of course I’d make sure his daughter was on the list when John needed a business consultant for the bar.”

She kept her smile from becoming strained through sheer force of will. Her reputation was growing, but her father had over a decade to make a name for himself. If she wanted to surpass that—and she very much did—she’d have to set aside any possible distractions and put all she had into getting new accounts and making them successful. As amusing as she found poking at Will Reaver, in the long run it didn’t matter what he thought of her.

The only thing that mattered was she had that contract all but signed, and as a result, was one step closer to her goal of being New York’s premier business consultant.

She fished her phone out of her purse and dialed Addison. The best way to get over how much Will unsettled her was to start the celebrations. She checked her watch as the phone rang. Four in the afternoon. If she moved now, she shouldn’t have a problem securing a reservation at the newest up and coming restaurant—courtesy of Carson & Associates.

Addison finally answered, sounding out of breath. “Pen! I didn’t expect to hear from you.”

“I know we have plans next week, but I just landed a huge account. Meet me for drinks?”

“I wish I could. I have plans with Caine tonight.” A murmur in the background. “Okay, fine. Technically, I have plans with him right this second.”

Heat rushed to Penelope’s face as she realized there was a decent chance she’d just interrupted something intimate. “Oh lord, I’m sorry. Just pretend I didn’t call.”

Addison laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you next Monday, though?”

“Definitely.”

“Perfect. Talk to you then.”

Penelope hung up, feeling curiously adrift. She and Addison had been good friends for the last few years—they got together for a drink whenever they could in between pursuing their own careers—but ever since her best friend had gone down to Tennessee to match a CEO and come back with him as her boyfriend instead, it seemed like things had shifted. It was only a matter of time before he proposed, and they were already talking about a family and a life that was completely foreign to Penelope. She loved seeing Addison happy and wouldn’t change that for the world, but she couldn’t help feeling…left out.

She turned down the street and started walking. Having a family and children was everything Addison had ever wanted—and had never let herself believe she’d have a chance at again. It was wonderful to see her finally on the cusp of realizing her dreams.

Those things weren’t on Penelope’s horizon now, and she wasn’t sure they ever would be. She liked the way things were. She loved her job, loved taking a business on the brink of ruin and turning it into something else—something successful. She’d single-handedly taken her father’s dream and brought it to the next level, and the pride in his eyes when she filled him in on each new account was worth more than gold. How could a relationship or new family compare to that?

Dad had tried to have both, and it almost ruined Carson & Associates. If that wasn’t an argument to shelve thoughts of wasting time in her personal life on some relationship that wouldn’t last, she didn’t know what was. There were no guarantees once you brought another person into your world. She’d seen how her mother undermined everything her father was trying to do with his consultant business. She couldn’t afford to end up with someone who would do that same thing.

She shoved the thought away. It was all a moot point, anyway. She’d had nothing even resembling a relationship, and that was just the way she liked it. Penelope ignored the pang inside her at the thought and resolutely turned to planning her celebration for one. If Addison was busy, there was really only one place to go.

Serve.

She’d have a drink and head up to one of the upper floors and see if there was a submissive in need of a good time. She grinned. Yes, this was even better than drinks. She’d play for a bit, and head home to sleep and wait for the call confirming that she’d secured the Falcon account.

Penelope pictured the look on Will’s face when he found out that she’d won yet another account away from him and grinned. Tonight was looking up.

…

Will Reaver walked out of his meeting with John Starker feeling on top of the world. He’d had a flicker of consternation when he realized Penelope Carson had presented before him—she had the nasty habit of stealing his prospective clients—but that quickly disappeared when he realized how attentively John was listening. Then the man had gone and all but promised the account to Will.

He permitted himself a smile as he strode onto the street and hailed a cab. What to do to celebrate? His twin, Garrett, was out of town on some mission or other, so partying with him wasn’t an option. Will briefly considered calling Uncle Rodger or his father or even his little sister, Sara, but discarded the idea almost before it’d taken form. Ever since Garrett had finally settled down with the electrifying Ridley, they had turned their fledgling matchmaker sights on Will. Sara wasn’t as bad in some ways, but she was also sneakier, and the fact that she’d had a hand in orchestrating Garrett and Ridley’s relationship only made her ego that much larger. Five minutes in their presence and Will would already be hearing about how the neighbor down the street was a really nice lady, and so was Rodger’s client’s daughter and so on. It never ended. Then he’d be fielding questions about when he was going to bring a nice girl home and move on into that next stage of life.

Will had an easy enough answer for them—never.

There were plenty of excuses for why he’d stay single until kingdom come—he was too busy, he liked a very specific brand of sex that most people couldn’t handle, he didn’t particularly like children—but they were just that. Excuses. The reality…

The reality was that he wasn’t meant for marriage or fatherhood or anything of that nature. A serious relationship—any relationship beyond a few nights—meant a loss of control that was unforgivable. Relationships changed people, made them unrecognizable. Quite frankly, the reward wasn’t anywhere near compelling enough to withstand the risk. He’d leave that up to Garrett or, heaven forbid, their little sister, Sara. He shook his head and rattled off to the cabbie the address of the one place he could go and slip free from the mundane aspects of his life.

The cab fought through evening traffic towards the meatpacking district, but Will tuned it out, focusing instead on his encounter with Penelope. He’d caught her ogling him again, but that moment had quickly gone the way of all their encounters. He didn’t know what it was about her that got under his skin so effectively, but he found himself speaking without thinking when he spent too much time in her presence.

Being a business consultant was a cutthroat way of life, but she wasn’t any more mercenary than the rest of the people in their field. And he could almost—almost—admire her for using that southern belle persona to her advantage. But ever since she stole Hell’s Belles out from beneath him, they’d been butting heads whenever they got too close. It would be significantly easier to avoid her if they weren’t in constant competition for the same accounts.

He paid the cabbie and stopped on the sidewalk to look at the building in front of him. Serve. He’d been going there on regular basis since it opened, grateful to have a place to scratch his itch—so to speak—without having to worry about the lines blurring. There were plenty of unattached subs who enjoyed a few hours of his time and were content with that. He was content with that. Will scrubbed a hand over his face. Well, he had been. Something had changed in the last few months, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. The relief he usually felt after a satisfying scene wasn’t anywhere near as strong as it had once been. No matter how often he went there, he was losing that contentment he’d prized so highly.

But tonight wasn’t the time to worry about that. He had a lucrative deal that would be signed tomorrow and would catapult his company to the next level. Tonight was for celebrating.

Will pushed through the doors, nodded to the bouncer, and headed straight for the gaping mouth that framed the elevator to the upper floors. He wasn’t opposed to a drink or two before playing, but right then all he wanted was to be surrounded by his people and sink himself into a scene with one of his regulars. Afterward, maybe he’d celebrate with a glass of the good scotch the establishment had stocked down in the bar.

The elevator doors opened on the second floor and Will had barely made it three steps into the room when his gaze landed on Penelope. He almost froze, but he’d had nine years of practice at hiding what he was feeling, so he managed to keep going with only the slightest hitch in his stride. She stood talking to a Dom he’d seen her speaking with some regularity, her tight curls pulled back into a cloud around her head. She must have found time to change because she wore a deceptively simple white dress that set off her dark skin to perfection. It was always white with her, which never ceased to put him in mind of a sacrificial virgin.

A joke if ever there was one because, as far as he knew, she only played Dominant.

There was something about her, though, something that called to him on an instinctive level. He’d never been able to put his finger on exactly what it was about her that never failed to drive him up the wall, and tonight wouldn’t be the night that changed. Will was only on her radar as an obstacle, the same way she was a thorn in his paw. Usually. Right then he was having a hard time remembering why he avoided her.

Before he had a chance to decide what he was going to do, she turned and saw him. The front of her dress dipped down between her breasts, the material following their curve and leaving no doubt that she wore nothing beneath it.

Jesus.

She smiled—he’d seen that expression enough times to know she was about to go in for the kill—and sauntered over to him. “Fancy meeting you here.” Her southern accent was dialed up to an eleven, a sure sign that she was about to insult him. “I was sure you’d be at home, crying into your whiskey bottle about losing another account to me.”

What was she talking about? “You’ve gotten your wires crossed. The Falcon account is mine.”

Instead of looking worried, she only smiled wider. “You’re so adorable when you’re being dense.”

“I’m not the dense one in this conversation. John’s going with my company.” A flicker of doubt tried to worm its way through him, but he smashed it. It didn’t matter what information she thought she had—that account belonged to him.

“Are you confident enough to bet on it?”

He wasn’t a betting man. Bets left things up to chance, and Will despised chance and everything else he couldn’t control. He might have John’s assurance that he had this deal, but John must also have said something to Penelope to make her this self assured. What did she know that Will didn’t?

He opened his mouth to make a sharp comment and change the subject, but what came out was, “Of course I am.”

Her dark eyes flashed with victory. “Perfect. When I win, you’ll wear my collar for a week.”

Every part of him rebelled at the thought. Play sub to anyone, let alone her? Absolutely not. He didn’t get his rocks off on his knees, and he never would. Will took a deep breath, forcing down his irritation. She might think she had this in the bag, but he would show her otherwise. A low scream cut through the relative quiet of the public play room and they both glanced over to the woman on the spanking bench, her skin already red. Even as they watched, the Domme swung the paddle again, coming down on the sub’s ass with a meaty smack.

He turned to Penelope. “I’ll take that bet, but if you lose, you’re putting yourself in the same position—submissive to me.” Even as he spoke, he knew he should take it back. He might have a pesky desire for the woman, but that didn’t mean he wanted to actually go there with her. Except he did. He wanted her obeying his every command, if only because of how much it would piss her off.

He let the words settle between them, taking a perverse delight in the shock on her face.

“I—what?”

He took a step forward, crowding her a little bit. “You’ll be my own personal submissive for seven days.” Will paused, enjoying the way her eyes went wide, but then her reactions actually registered with him—reactions he’d seen too many times to discount. There was no reason for the dilated pupils or the quickened breath or the flush working its way over her skin—no reason except desire. She might hate him, but she liked the idea of submitting. I’ll be damned. “Unless, of course, you’d rather not risk it?”

Her smile died. “Nice try, sugar. You’re on.” She held out her hand.

Wondering if he was making a horrible mistake, Will took her hand. He couldn’t help but notice how soft her palm was against his, or how she shook a little bit when he tightened his grip briefly. He smiled to himself. Oh, yes. Penelope might be the type to take a man out at the knees, but all signs pointed to her having a submissive streak a mile wide, a submissive streak no one else seemed to know about. The idea of having her on her knees for him had been amusing, if only to tweak her a bit. To have her there and craving his command? Christ. The very thought had Will’s body tightening with anticipation.

He couldn’t wait to see her in his collar.

Chapter Two

“It will be a pleasure doing business with you.” Will stood and shook John’s hand, his mind already skipping ahead to the steps necessary to get the renovation portion of the proposal rolling. “I’ll talk to my contractor and have him come give a bid Monday morning.”

“Wonderful.” John laced his hands over his massive stomach. “I look forward to working with you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to call your competitors and let them know we went in a different direction.”

“Of course.” He didn’t allow himself to smile until he’d cleared the building and was striding down the sidewalk. Though he’d been certain of victory, Will had learned early on that there were no sure things in this world. Winning the bet with Penelope was the icing on the cake. His smile widened as he pictured her reaction to hearing the news.

Unable to help himself, he typed out a quick text. I expect your list of hard limits in my inbox by noon. His phone rang almost instantly. “Will Reaver.”

“Did you get it?”

Not Penelope, but his little sister, Sara. He turned the corner and headed uptown. It was blistering cold, but he needed to stretch his legs and work off some of his energy before he sat down and went over the paperwork one final time. “With all those connections you’re so proud of, shouldn’t you already know the answer to that?”

“Naturally, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear it from the horse’s mouth. So, horse, speak.”

He chuckled. “I got it.”

She whooped so loudly, he had to hold the phone away from his ear. “I knew it! The Falcon Bar is owned by Emperor. They’re a big deal. They have their little claws in a third of the businesses in Manhattan.”

“I’m aware.” That was part of the reason he’d pulled out all the stops on this proposal. Emperor made a habit of scooping up small businesses, though Will’s sources reported that a full fifteen percent of them failed within their first five years after takeover, which was exactly what had happened with John and Falcon. If Will could prove his value by making the Falcon Bar a success, there was a decent chance they would keep him on retainer and do away with accepting bids from the competition.

“We have to celebrate. Garrett and Ridley just got back from Paris, and you know Dad and Uncle Rodger don’t actually leave the city if they can help it. Family dinner.”

“I already have plans.” Assuming Penelope actually followed through on the terms of the bet.

“That was quick.” She barely paused a beat. “Is it a woman?”

“Sara.”

“It’s a perfectly legitimate question. It’s high time you settled down.”

He snorted. “You first.”

“God forbid. You know better.”

“And so do you.” Relationships weren’t part of the plan. They were full of twists and turns and impossible to ever control fully, and Will had no interest in them. It was a moot point, however. He would have his hands full with Penelope for the next week, and that was sure to keep him distracted from his growing ennui. If not her, then definitely the new account.

Sara sighed. “If I plan something for next Thursday, do you think you can clear your busy schedule?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Good boy. Now, I’ve got to go convince a certain Congressman that his indiscretions are going to get him into trouble.”

“Be careful.” Neither Will nor his identical twin, Garrett, had been too thrilled when their baby sister joined Uncle Rodger’s fixer company. Their uncle was more than capable of taking care of himself—and Sara, as well—but even knowing that didn’t quite smother the worry that one of these days she’d go to fix a problem and end up in over her head.

“I’m always careful.” She hung up with a laugh that did nothing to comfort him.

He put it from his mind the same way he did every situation that he couldn’t control. His sister would be fine and the less he knew about what she was doing, the better for his stress level. He hailed a cab and gave the address to his office. Then he sat back and considered what the night might bring.

Would Penelope submit?

That was the question of the hour. He found her as attractive as she was rage-inducing, and he allowed himself a full five minutes to imagine her inky eyes going wide and filling with the distance of sub-space. That expression, the one of blissed out contentment, was something he craved nearly as much as the sight of his markings on a woman’s body. To be allowed to glimpse both on a woman who inspired such conflicting emotions in him?

He wanted that more than he’d expected.

All that remained to be seen was if his instincts about her being a switch were correct. He’d seen her dominate subs from time to time, and she was a natural at it. If she truly had a submissive side… He smiled. He was going to enjoy the hell out of bringing it to the fore.

Will paid the cabbie and climbed out onto the sidewalk. His office was on the small side—just enough room to hold his secretary and an office for himself. If things with Falcon went well, he’d have to expand and bring another consultant on, but for now it was just Marissa and him.

She looked up as he walked through the door. “You got it.”

As if she’d never expected otherwise. “I did.”

“I knew it.” She grinned. “I’ve set up a meeting with you and Jim Jones Monday morning.”

“Thank you.” He moved past her desk and paused in the doorway to his office. “Any calls?”

“Just one. She asked to be put through to your voicemail.”

She. He would wager he knew exactly who had left a message. “Perfect.” Will shut his door and moved around the desk to sink into his chair. Even though the message light called to him, he forced himself to boot up his computer first. While it went through the start-up process, he listened to the message.

Penelope’s voice slid through the phone, sweet as honey. “I’m not going to back out, despite your underhandedness, but only because, unlike you, I have a shred of honor. Check your email.” She hesitated, and he could almost see her gathering her courage. “But if you believe for a second that you’re going to get a simpering submissive, you have another think coming.”

He carefully replaced the phone in its cradle. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Her refusal to roll over and play dead only made the lure stronger.

He logged into his email and saw her note immediately. Will considered it as the document downloaded. This was the deciding factor. Penelope could say that she was adhering to the bet until she was blue in the face, but if she wasn’t honest about her hard limits, she could effectively end this before it began. The document she’d sent was nearly identical to the one Serve used. He found himself holding his breath as he scrolled down the list. There were precious few boxes marked with definitive nos.

Breath play. Blood play. Age play. Fair enough. It was good to know she drew the line somewhere. As for the rest? Sharing and exhibitionism were marked with maybes. Pain play, bondage, and sex were marked with interested.

Will sat back, the room seeming to twist around him. He hadn’t expected this. Hell, he hadn’t dared hope for this. She would have been well within her rights to put sex on the hard limit list. To have that avenue suddenly available… He scrubbed a hand over his face. This was going to require more preparation than he’d expected.

A quick check ensured he wasn’t missing anything of importance in his email, and then he surged to his feet and grabbed his coat. Marissa jumped when he opened the door. “I’ve a few errands to run. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off and start your weekend early?” He was gone before he heard her answer.

Whether she realized it or not, Penelope had declared her trust in him. Will would have to be a bastard not to reward that. He smiled. He was most definitely a bastard, but he was going to reward her in spite of it.

…

Penelope hugged her coat tighter around her as she stepped out of the elevator. This was actually happening. If she were a smarter woman, she would have found some sort of loophole that would let her off the hook, but the truth was that she hadn’t tried too hard.

If she backed out of this bet now, she’d never live it down.

Or that was what she told herself.

She’d been relieved when she’d gotten the second text from Will, commanding her to meet him at Serve. He had an excellent reputation, but that didn’t mean she’d be comfortable showing up at his house at ten o’clock at night. Serve was the better—safer—option. Triple checking the phone, she headed down the hallway to the private rooms. Though she knew of them—some were owned by the more prominent Doms at Serve—she’d never had the pleasure.

It took more courage than she could have dreamed to open the door and step into the shadows. Penelope blinked, trying to find her bearings. There was a bed pushed against the far corner and what looked for all the world like a small sitting room arranged next to it—two small sofas, each with their own end tables and lamps. One of them was occupied, and Will drew her attention like a moth to the proverbial flame. He didn’t say anything, simply raised his hand in an unspoken command.

She forced herself to remain where she was, mostly to prove to herself that she could. “Will.”

“Come here, Penelope.”

Instead she turned to examine the bedding. There was no comforter, which wasn’t surprising since she doubted anyone ever actually slept in it, and the sheets were silk. Of course they were. She moved closer and ran her finger along the deep green fabric. “Fancy.”

“You’re late.”

Yes, she was. A small defiance as such things went, but she wasn’t about to show up exactly on time. It would make it seem as if she were looking forward to the next seven days—which she most certainly wasn’t. She laced her hands behind her back so he wouldn’t see them shake and turned to face him. “Traffic was a bear.”

“And here I thought you were showing up late to be deliberately disobedient.” The small smile that pulled at his lips made her stomach leap. He didn’t look angry—or even bothered. Instead, he looked like she’d just delivered him a delightful gift. Pity. Will motioned her closer. “Sit down. That’s a direct order, Penelope.”

The only alternative was to stand by the door while they had this discussion, which had already started to feel ridiculous. Her heels sunk into the thick carpet as she crossed to him, her nerves piping up as she got within touching distance. Was she supposed to kneel? Join him on the couch? Strip? It struck her that she was totally and completely out of her element. She may have dominated plenty of subs over the years, but she’d never been on this side of things. Going from Domme to scening with the Ice King, let alone as his submissive, was like going from the kiddie pool to being thrown off the high dive. Had she really thought she could handle this? She was so far in over her head it wasn’t even close to funny.

Will’s face was mostly in shadow, but apparently he could see her expression just fine. “Take a deep breath, Penelope. I’m not going to bend you over the arm of this couch and fuck you until you beg for mercy.”

The yet hung unspoken between them.

She fiddled with the buttons of her coat. “I think this is the first time I’ve heard you swear.”

“It won’t be the last.” He motioned to the spot on the couch next to him. With his arms over the back of the sofa, it would put them entirely too close together. There would be no way to avoiding touching him.

She laughed softly. Avoiding touching him? She’d agreed to act as submissive to his Dominant for a week. There was going to be a significant amount of touching going on. Her heart sped up at the thought of his big hands on her, even as she told her heart that it was a fool.

She sank onto the spot he’d indicated, taking the opportunity to study him. She’d never seen Will in anything but suits, and tonight was no exception. The only concession he’d made to the late hour was leaving a few shirt buttons undone, showcasing a delicious slice of his throat and upper chest. She realized she was staring, but refused to drop her gaze. “Let’s get this negotiation out of the way.”

“Penelope, you seem to be under the mistaken impression that you’re in charge.”

No, she wasn’t. She was just scrambling to keep as much control as she possibly could. The thought of giving him… everything… made her both hot and cold, all at the same time. “It’s customary to talk before we start.”

He was quiet for a long moment, and she forced herself to relax and pretend her nerves weren’t strung tight. Finally Will said, “I received your list. Is there anything you’d like to add to it?”

She thought back over the list. When she’d been going through them, she’d done her best to be honest. There were plenty of things on that list that made her nervous to be on the receiving end, but only a small handful that sent her into a full on panic. The whole point of a healthy BDSM pairing was that the people involved were perfectly honest with each other. She might dislike Will on a personal level, but she couldn’t think of a single sub he’d mistreated.

“I don’t…” Her stupid pride made her want to keep her mouth shut, but she couldn’t lie to him. Not about this. “I’m not sure I’m into anything beyond midway through the pain scale—light flogging and paddling.” She’d never used a toy on a sub that she hadn’t used on herself, and pain could be used to make pleasure sharper, but she wasn’t a true masochist.

“Understood.” He considered her. “You realize you’re allowing for sex of all flavors.”

Was she supposed to restrict that? Heat rushed to her face, a toxic combination of shame and embarrassment. “Yes, well—”

His finger against her lips stopped her words. “Do you want to take sex off the list?”

Hell no. She bit back that response and went for a more measured, “No.” It was the truth. Sometime in the last twelve hours she’d done more than resign herself to having sex with Will Reaver. Good lord, a small part of her was looking forward to it. She couldn’t let him know that, though. Giving her body to him was one thing, but her mind had to remain her own. It had to.

“Good.”

She hated how that little word made her warm all over. She didn’t even like this man and she already soaked up his praise like a cat being stroked. Keep it together, Pen. This is all part of the game and you’d be a fool to forget that.

Will continued to watch her as if staring past her skin and into her soul. It was everything she could do not to shift under his gaze. “I will lay out my terms. If you’re agreeable, my collar goes around your neck and we begin.”

“You won the bet. You don’t have to rub it in my face.”

“I might have, but that doesn’t mean I’m treating this any differently than I would a normal contract.”

His sharp words stole some of her thunder. She straightened and looked away from him, though it was more difficult than she would have anticipated. Her gaze landed on the rack on the other side of the room. It wasn’t quite a St. Andrew’s Cross, but there was no mistaking how her body would curve against it, her hands bound straight out on either side of her, her legs spread wide. She shivered at the image.

She’d always been on the other side of things. She was the one who guided her subs past their initial nerves and into a scene that would satisfy them both. She was the one who decided what direction things would go, and who would call a stop once she’d wrung every last bit of pleasure from her submissive.

There was no opportunity for control on this side of things.

“Once you understand what’s expected of you, any infraction will be met with a suitable punishment. Do you understand?”

Punishment. The thought shouldn’t be enough to have her nipples perking up, but her body apparently found the idea of being on the receiving end intriguing. “I understand.”

He reached out and undid her coat buttons, one at a time. “I expect you to obey every command I give you as if it were the word of God. The sole exception is if you intend on using your safe word.” He parted her coat and slid it off her shoulders, leaving her in the dress she’d chosen specifically for tonight—in direct defiance of his orders to show up in her underwear. It was all about the little things.

The dress was simple to the point of being modest—except for the hem that hit the tops of her thighs—but it was what was beneath that she’d taken entirely too much time to pick out: a sheer white bra and panty set, complete with white garters and nude hose. What would Will think of those?

“Tell me your safe word.”

“Dracula.”

Will raised his eyebrows. “You hold me in such high regard.”

Of course he’d know she was referring to him—a little dig. “Maybe I just like the book.”

“No lies, Penelope. I won’t allow it.” He dropped her coat on the other side of him. “You will answer me honestly, regardless of how uncomfortable the answer makes you. Do you understand?”

That made her more nervous than the thought of sex. It indicated that he wouldn’t be satisfied with her body—that he wanted full mental submission as well. She licked her lips. “I’ve done this kind of thing before, sugar. I got it.” But that didn’t mean she’d obey.

He sent her a look that said he knew exactly what she was thinking, and it amused him. God save her from amusing Will Reaver. He pulled gently on one of her curls, and watched it spring back into place. “You only play with female submissives.”

“What’s your point? Everyone has a type.” She liked the softer feel of the women, the sweet edge of their submission.

“So they do.” Heat flared in his eyes, the break in his icy expression so unexpected that she forgot how to breathe. Will was painfully attractive as the Ice King. With something like desire burning through those blue eyes? She shifted, her skin suddenly too tight.

He was devastating.

“If for any reason you think I’m asking for something unreasonable”—his tone told her how unlikely he found that—“you will use your safe word and I will respect it.”

Something in her chest relaxed a little even as her desire ramped up. The safe word was sacred among people in this lifestyle, but there was something about him saying as much in that calm, confident tone of his that set her at ease. She had an out—an out he would respect. If things got too heavy, or if she stopped being able to swim and started to actually drown, there was a life raft within arm’s reach. “I’m sure I’ll find plenty unreasonable. It is you we’re talking about.”

He ignored that. “While I don’t find High Protocol necessary the majority of the time, I do expect you to address me correctly.” His blue eyes drilled into her. “Say, ‘Yes, Sir.’”

She’d known this was coming. The bet had said the loser played collared submissive, and a sub with a collar didn’t get the option of obeying only during a scene. As her Dom, he could issue a command in the middle of the day and she’d be expected to drop everything and do as he told her.

This was exactly the reason she’d been so keen to avoid a relationship. She didn’t have the time or patience for someone who could potentially distract her.

It’s just a week, Pen. Seven measly days. You can last that long. She put a little chirp into her voice, making the words just this side of disrespectful. “Yes, Sir.”

“We’ll have to work on your cheekiness.” He traced a finger down her sternum, stopping just short of the curve of her breasts. “Now, let’s begin.”

Chapter Three

Will had intended to take things slow. No, that wasn’t strictly the truth. The truth was that he had the irrational impulse to do exactly what he’d described to Penelope—fuck her over the arm of the couch they were currently sitting on. It didn’t make sense. He usually had a plan going into a scene, and he felt most alive when he was putting it into motion, one strike at a time. There was no room in his life for frantic fucking and desperation.

Even knowing that, it was still a struggle to remove his hand from her skin. She was soft in all the right places, and she smelled entirely too good for his control. The fact she kept up a steady dose of borderline disrespect only amused him—because she obeyed in the end. She would hiss and scratch and make snarling comments, but she would end up on her knees because that was ultimately where she wanted to be. He hadn’t misread the signs before—she truly did crave submitting, even if it seemed to make her uncomfortable.

Or maybe it was submitting to him that got her back up.

She looked away again, drawing his attention to her hair. It was twisted back from her face, the kinky curls bobbing. Her hair was something he’d always found intriguing because it was so wild and uncontrolled—the exact opposite of Penelope’s attitude. Even when he’d witnessed her scening with a submissive, she was totally and completely buttoned up.

“Stand.”

She started to, and froze. “I don’t think so.”

Will sat back, noting the way she shivered when the space opened up between them. This would be interesting. “Stand, Penelope.”

“No.” Her body went tense, as if it was trying to obey despite her words. “You’re not going to touch me without my permission.”

Annoyance flared, but was quickly drowned out by anticipation. If he wanted to have a sub crawling at his feet and begging, there was a whole club full of them outside the room. What he wanted—what he was coming to recognize that he needed—was this woman and her defiance. “Tell me your safe word.”

Confusion flashed across her face for a second before she hid it. “Dracula.”

He grabbed her wrist and hauled her forward, the momentum landing her in his lap with her ass in the air. Before she could struggle, he pressed his hand to the small of her back, pinning her in place. He let himself look his full since she couldn’t see his face in her position, no matter how much she twisted. He’d known Penelope had a body that made his mouth water, but with her dress up around her hips, there was little more than a scrap of white cloth covering her. He couldn’t stop himself from touching the pair of dimples at the bottom of her spine, the indentations a perfect fit for his thumb.

And her ass… Will used his free hand to trace over that deadly curve. Christ, she was magnificent.

“Let me go!”

Magnificently pissed. He slapped first one cheek and then the other, using enough force that it would actually hurt. “I have simple rules, Penelope, and I expect them to be obeyed.” He spanked her again.

She reached around to smack him, but he easily pinned her wrists behind her. Then he waited while she cursed and threatened. When she took a breath, he cut in, “Do you want to use your safe word?”

“Damn it, no.”

“No, Sir.” He spanked her again, and then palmed her ass, her skin so hot it practically scorched him through her thin panties. “Say it.”

Her breath hissed out. “No, Sir.”

“And, to clarify, you gave me permission to touch you the moment you entered into this agreement.” He squeezed her ass and closed his eyes at how good she felt beneath his hands. “You’re mine, Penelope. You’d be wise to stop fighting it and be an obedient submissive.” But a small part of him hoped she wouldn’t give in that easily. She was a breath of fresh air. Just thinking of how he’d bring her to heel and tame that smart mouth of hers was enough to make him hard.

“Not likely, Sir.” She twisted and gasped when her stomach came in contact with his cock. She went still. “Ah…”

“I’m not unaffected.” He slid his hand down to cup her between her legs. Will almost groaned when he found her panties soaked. “And neither are you.”

“I—”

“Truth, pet.” The nickname slipped out as easily as his fingers slipped beneath the fabric separating him from what he wanted. He traced her opening, fighting for control, fighting to keep things moving at the pace he’d set out, and not rush forward. The moment she knew how close to the edge he was, she’d do everything in her power to push him over. He couldn’t afford that, especially during their initial interaction.

Even knowing that, he couldn’t help sliding first one finger and then two into her. The feeling of her pussy clenching around him was enough to have him fighting back a groan. He wanted to drive himself into her, to lose himself in her.

Fuck. He wrestled his impulse under control, but only barely. “Would you like me to make you come?” He tried to keep his tone even and chilly, but the words came out hoarse with need.

“N—”

“Truth.”

Her breath sobbed out and she went limp, her head almost touching the carpet. “Yes, Sir.”

Thank Christ. He didn’t waste any time pushing a finger into her again. Her wet heat tightened around him and, this time, he couldn’t hold back a groan. “How long?” She didn’t answer, so he worked a second finger into her. “How long since you let a man touch you like this?”

“Will—”

He withdrew long enough to rip her panties off, leaving her bare from the waist down, except for her garters. It was a picture meant to be marveled at, and he had no problem showing his appreciation. He lifted her, keeping a hold of her to ensure she didn’t topple over, and pulled her in to straddle him. She caught herself on his shoulders as he spread his legs, forcing hers wider. He took in her wide eyes and the way her body shook with each breath she took. She was right there with him.

Good.

He traced his thumbs beneath the strap of the garter, up to where it wrapped around her waist, and then down to the dip where thigh met pussy. A glint of metal caught his eye. “Pierced.” He parted her, revealing the curved metal barbell that nestled up against her clit. “How long have you had this?”

“A few years.” She bit her lip. “I got it after I graduated college.”

“Because of a boyfriend?” He rolled his thumb over it, contemplating the possibilities and attempting to convince himself he didn’t truly care what her answer was.

“No. It was something I wanted, so I got one.”

No hesitation and no questioning. She’d wanted something, so she’d gone out and pursued it. “Do you do that with everything in your life?”

“Yes.” She caught herself. “Yes, Sir.”

He sat back, sliding his hands down the outside of her thighs to cup her knees. “Show me how you like it.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

He took one of her hands off his shoulder and pressed it between her legs. “You want an orgasm? Give yourself one.”

…

They’d gone from zero to a solid sixty-five in three seconds. Penelope stared into his blue eyes, frozen by the heat there. If she’d thought the flash before was shocking, the sheer desire written over his face now was enough to leave her reeling. He wanted her—though want was too mild a word for the look he raked over the front of her body, branding her to the core.

“Take off the dress.” He eyed it with something like distaste. “I gave explicit instructions—only your underwear.”

That brought her back to reality. Will being rude. Surprise, surprise. “Sugar, I wasn’t going to walk around New York City with only a coat between me and the rest of the world.”

His hands coasted up her body, skimming the dress off her and tossed it aside. “Next time, you’ll be wearing nothing at all underneath the coat.”

Crap. Her nipples tightened at the thought of being basically naked and surrounded by unknowing people. Naturally, the bastard saw her reaction. “Touch yourself, Penelope. My patience is wearing thin.”

She actually stroked her clit a few times before she realized she’d just obeyed without a fight. They’d been in this room less than ten minutes, and she was already well on her way to being a good little sub. She watched his face, the way he followed her fingers’ movement getting her hot despite herself. “Did you know?”

“Hmm?” He moved his hands back up her thighs to stroke the straps of her garters.

“Did you know you were going to win when we made the bet?”

He finally raised his gaze from where she touched herself. “I suspected.”

She remembered how cocky she’d felt, more than willing to rub Will’s face in her success. She’d been a damn idiot. “You’re an asshole.”

He didn’t so much as blink. “And you’re a disobedient sub. Do you know what I do to subs who disobey?”

She had a feeling she was about to find out. She pushed off his lap, well aware that he could have easily kept her in place if he was so inclined. “I’m sure you’re all too eager to show me.”

That damn heat in his eyes was answer enough. To her everlasting shame, she felt an answering need rising beneath her skin. She crossed her arms over her chest. “We negotiated. That’s enough for tonight.” She needed some time and space to get her head back on straight and remember that she had no business feeling anything as dangerous as desire for this man.

“On the contrary. I’m not done with you yet.” He had her up and over his shoulder before she could draw the breath to rip him a new one.

She bit her lip as he carried her across the room, hating how being hauled around by him made her body pulse with the beat of her heart. It shouldn’t make her squirm to be tossed over his shoulder like a sack of flour, but her body wasn’t listening. “You’re insufferable.”

“You’re not the first one to say so.” He dropped her on the bed with enough force that she bounced.

She immediately clenched her thighs together, refusing to let him in. “Apparently hearing it wasn’t enough to make you change your ways.”

“Open your legs.” The command lashed her, his tone harsher than anything she’d heard before.

Penelope flinched and obeyed. She caught herself halfway through the movement and tried to reverse it, but his hands were there, spreading her knees wide. He used his grip to haul her to the edge of the bed so her ass was halfway off the mattress. Will pressed her knees up and out, and then met her gaze. “You will hold this position.”

She forced herself to respond. “And if I don’t?”

“Then you’ll receive your first punishment.” He looked her over. “I don’t expect it to be your last.”

Her mind raced in circles, torn between wanting—needing—to know what her punishment would be, and the desire to obey him. She was losing ground, and fast, but she still tried to rally. “Are you going to fuck me, Sir?”

He went still, looking at her like she was crazy. “Normally, women don’t consider fucking me a punishment.” He let go of her legs and stepped back, that damn amusement back on his face. It was official—she hated amusing him. “For that, I think you’ll wait for the pleasure.”

Which pleasure? Even knowing she should be happy that Will was holding off having sex, disappointment soured her stomach. It might be bad for her mental health, but the truth was that she wanted Will Reaver inside her and driving her out of her mind. He never had sex with his subs in the public playroom, but she could imagine how well he took care of them by the expressions of exhausted contentment on the women’s faces after they left a private session with him.

Jealousy she had no right to tightened her chest. He didn’t hold back with those other women, but he was going to make her wait? Maybe she’d miscalculated. She kept very still, holding the position he’d maneuvered into and tried to put a contrite expression on her face. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

He laughed, a deep sound that seemed to start in his stomach and roar outwards. Penelope stared. Had she ever heard him actually laugh? Chuckle, maybe. But an actual laugh? No, never.

Will shook his head. “I suspect this week will be anything but dull with you wearing my collar.”

As if just remembering something, he turned and walked across the room, leaving her lewdly splayed. She had the hysterical thought that she should consider herself lucky this was happening in private and not where everyone on the third floor of Serve could see.

She doubted she’d be so lucky for the rest of the week.

He returned with a collar. “I contemplated white, but white is a color you’ve taken as your own.” He ran the thick black leather through his hands. It was stitched with a floral pattern that might be roses, a surprisingly pretty and feminine touch. “This is to mark you as mine. You will wear it whenever we are alone together, as well as the moment you set foot through Serve’s doors.” Will leaned over her, his hips lining up with hers, the ridge his cock made beneath the fabric of his pants rubbing against her clit, and fastened the collar around her neck with excruciating slowness. He kept shifting as if trying to get it in a better position, and each movement sent a zing of pleasure through her. She bit her lip to keep a moan in, but she couldn’t stop her hips from rolling against him.

The collar was heavy against her throat, but it was the look on his face that made it hard to draw a full breath. He bracketed her throat just beneath the leather. “My collar looks good on you, pet.”

The weight of his body on hers made her whimper. He was so…big. Larger than life. It was everything she could do not to wrap her legs around his waist and beg him to take her now.

That shocked Penelope back to herself. She might be his sub for the week, but she wasn’t about to beg him for anything. She tried to take a calming breath, but all she got was a lungful of his woodsy scent.

He leaned back, the move settling him more securely between her thighs. “It’s a struggle, isn’t it?”

As much as she wanted to pretend she had no idea what he was talking about, it would be a lie. She wanted to stick it to him in whatever way she could, but she wasn’t going to disobey his command to be honest. It was the one thing that chafed the most, but it was also the most necessary thing he’d done tonight. If the trust broke between them, this thing was broken beyond repair. Trust was essential, no matter how it aggravated her to give him so much as an inch.

Will stroked a thumb down her temple. “Obey me, Penelope, and I’ll reward you until your body is brimming with so much pleasure, you won’t be able to walk for hours afterward. Is that so much to ask?”

It didn’t sound terrible, but that was the problem. The second she stopped fighting him, she was his. Their agreement might only last a week, but who was to say he wouldn’t pull some Dom trick and manipulate her out of a business account when they met next? She couldn’t give him the keys to the kingdom, no matter how much a small part of her wanted to. So she closed her eyes and told the God’s honest truth. “Yes, Sir.”

Chapter Four

Will had suspected Penelope would respond in a contrary way. He thrust against her once, twice, and a third time, until her breath hissed out. She was close—she didn’t have to open her eyes for him to know that. It was tempting to finish her off, to perhaps kiss his way down her body and taste her, but he forced himself to move back. She whimpered, the sound so delicate and sweet, he actually took a step toward her before he caught himself.

No. If he allowed her to top from the bottom tonight, then she’d continue to attempt it for the rest of the week. The only way this would work was if he created solid boundaries now and held to them. It was never something he’d had a problem with before, but at the sight of her pussy glistening in the low light he was in danger of forgetting all the rules.

“Up.” He barely recognized his own voice. He sounded like he’d been smoking a pack a day for the last ten years.

She blinked. “What?”

“Up, Penelope.” He grabbed her upper arm and hauled her to her feet. “And the next time you forget to address me properly, I’m going to put you over my knee.”

“Sure you will, Sir.”

“Better.” Her legs seemed to be shaking and her breath came in short gasps that had her breasts nearly spilling out of her white lace bra. The white garter did nothing more than frame her ass and pussy, an effect only enhanced by the nude thigh-highs. She was temptation personified, and he was reluctant to follow through on the punishment he’d decided on.

Will gave himself a mental shake and walked to the chest at the end of the bed to grab his bag. There would be plenty of time in the next seven days to play with her to his heart’s content. Right then, it was vital he set the standard. “Remove the bra.”

She only hesitated half a second before obeying. He smothered a groan at the sight of her dark nipples puckered up as if begging for his mouth. Not yet.

“This way.” He opened the door and stepped out into the public playroom. The spanking bench in the back corner was empty, which was perfect for his purposes. Penelope had marked ‘maybe’ for exhibitionism, and he was about to see just how serious she was about exploring it.

He turned to find her hovering in the doorway, her gaze jumping between the various couples engaged in scenes and the group of Doms and subs who lounged on couches situated near the elevator. The bench was on the other side of the room from the group, so the only people who would see anything were those already occupied with their own activities. It would give the illusion of being out for everyone to see while still maintaining a small amount of privacy.

In short, it was a good place to start.

When she didn’t seem all too inclined to step into the main room, he held out his hand, meeting her gaze in a silent demand for obedience. She frowned and stepped out to place her hand in his. “I don’t want whatever you have planned, Sir.”

“You don’t want anything to do with me, so that’s hardly surprising.” He led the way around the scening couples and pointed to the bench. “I believe you know what is required.”

“And I believe that you’ve got a stick shoved up where the sun don’t shine, sugar.”

He grinned at her ass as she leaned over the bench. “You know, pet, I think I’m starting to enjoy the way you talk dirty to me.”

“Was that a joke, Sir? I didn’t realize you were capable of making them.” Her accent was so thick it slid over him like honey on a warm day.

Will casually smacked her ass. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me. Now be a good girl and grip those bars on either side of you.” When she did, he nudged her feet farther apart. “Be very still and very silent and I’ll give you a reward after the punishment.”

“Doesn’t that nullify the need to punish me, Sir?”

He spanked her again, a light smack meant to get her attention. “Silence, pet.” He crouched and went through his bag, touching each instrument before finally settling on a paddle. It had round holes carved into the wood, so it would hurt, but it shouldn’t be enough to push her over the edge. It would take some time to establish where her personal boundaries stood and, while he had no problem cozying right up to the line, he’d do his damnedest not to cross it. There was no joy to be found in traumatizing someone, and any Dom who thought otherwise was quickly found out and banned from Serve.

“Seven.” He palmed her ass, giving it a good squeeze before he released her. “That’s the number of times you’ve disobeyed tonight, and that’s that number of strikes you’ll receive. Do you understand?”

Her breath hissed out. “Yes, Sir.”

He didn’t hesitate, bringing the paddle down on her ass with a smack. The goal was to ease her into the harder blows so her endorphins kicked in and pain became something closer to pleasure. She jerked, but other than her hands tightening around the bars below her, she didn’t respond. He waited a full three seconds, seeing if she’d safe out, but she seemed to be bracing herself for the next one. Good. He brought the paddle down flat across her ass, pausing between each strike to ensure she didn’t need to stop, counting aloud.

Five. Six. Seven.

Will dropped the paddle onto his bag and circled her, stroking a hand up her spine to cup the back of her head. Every muscle was relaxed and limp, the sign of a submissive deep in the bliss of subspace. Still, it was necessary to check, since this was their first time scening together. “Penelope?”

“I’m…good.” Her voice was a little distant, a little dreamy, and that tone hit him like a lightning strike, searing through his body to his cock.

He moved back around and went to his knees behind her. “You pleased me greatly, pet.” He pressed a kiss to one cheek and then the other. “Are you ready for your reward?”

He massaged the back of her thighs while he waited, his thumbs bare inches away from her center. Her extremely wet center. Yes, it was safe to say Penelope thoroughly enjoyed light pain play.

Finally, she seemed to gather herself enough for an answer again. “Yes…Sir.” In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to surge to his feet and bury himself deep inside her.

Christ, what was wrong with him?

He never lost control—ever—and certainly not in the middle of a scene with a sub who was blissed out. Will closed his eyes and took a deep breath, but all he could smell was her desire. Focus. Her reward.

He had intended to take her back into the private room and reward her there, but he didn’t trust himself to hold to the plan once he had her stretched out on that bed again. After coming so close to losing it twice already, the lesser of two evils was to reward her here and then finish up the scene.

Or that was what he told himself as he leaned forward and dragged his tongue over her center. She tasted… There were no words to describe how she tasted, or the sweet sounds of need coming out of her mouth as he took his time savoring her. He dipped down to flick her clit with his tongue, and her entire body went tense. Ah, so that was something she liked.

Because this was meant to be a reward, he kept doing that, again and again, until she came apart around him, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. Will gave her one last long lick and rested his forehead against the back of her thighs, trying to remind himself of all the reasons he couldn’t follow this through to its natural conclusion.

Not yet.

He stood and scooped Penelope up. The dungeon monitor nodded at him as he passed on his way back to the room. Everything he needed for aftercare was there, and he wasted no time wrapping her in a blanket and sitting with her on the couch where they’d first started negotiations. He rested his chin on the top of her head and held her as her shivers from the combined adrenaline of her orgasm and spanking eased, and her breathing returned to something like normal. There was a part of him that wished she didn’t bounce back quite so quickly, but when she raised her head, he released her.

“That was…”

He pulled the blanket more firmly around her. “If I see you to a cab, will you be okay getting home?”

She blinked, and he could almost see her walls coming back up. “Of course.”

It was better this way. He hadn’t anticipated the strength of his response to her, and the only way to get back onto stable ground was to remind her of the fact she hated him. For the first time in as long as he could remember, it was a struggle to retreat behind his cold mask. “Get your sleep, pet. I have an eventful day planned for you tomorrow.”

…

All Penelope wanted to do was to curl back up in Will’s lap and close her eyes for a bit. Her body felt strangely disconnected, and her head was fuzzy as if she’d just downed a bottle of wine. She’d known pain could turn to sharp pleasure between one breath and the next, but experiencing it for herself was something else entirely. Experiencing it in the capable hands of Will…

She shook her head and tried to focus. He wanted her to leave. He’d just said as much. She struggled to her feet, wobbling a little and wondering how she’d managed to keep her heels on this entire time, and reached down to pick up her bra. He watched her as she wrestled it on and then slid into her dress, his blue eyes unreadable. Had he worn that same non-expression the entire time he was beating her and then going down on her?

I don’t think so. Not when his voice had dropped and roughened when he talked to her, and he’d shown those little glimpses of heat. No, he was affected, whether he wanted to be or not.

It struck her that maybe he wanted to hustle her out of there because he had a secondary sub set up. The night was young and he was no doubt still wanting to scratch his itch. He certainly hadn’t gotten off with her. Hurt rose, and dampened the strange fog around her. There was nothing in their contract about being exclusive, so of course he’d be seeking pleasure elsewhere tonight.

She shrugged into her coat, her muscles protesting the movement. All she wanted was to curl up and sleep—to do something to maintain the feel-good sensation currently leaving her body. She paused at the doorway, waiting for… She wasn’t sure. For him to tell her to stay? For him to rush over and take her against the wall? Penelope shivered at the thought, then forced her spine straight. She’d promised herself that she wouldn’t beg Will for a damn thing, and she wasn’t about to break. Not now, not ever.

So she opened the door, part of her still expecting him to call her back, and walked out. Nothing. She caught a few curious looks from people as she made her way around the perimeter of the room and to the elevator. The doors closed without interruption, and only then did she allow herself to sag against the wall. “This is so incredibly bad.”

She’d been doing fine until he bent her over that bench and spanked her with the paddle. She’d heard rumors of the man’s skill with his various toys, but going through the full Technicolor experience…there were no words. By the second strike, she had been fighting not to arch into the strokes, had been relishing the stinging, had never wanted it to end. She’d forgotten everything but the expectation of his next strike, his next touch.

What had she been thinking, betting away a week of her life to that man?

She took a deep breath and exited the elevator, winding through the crowd to the front door, her head held high. It didn’t matter that most of these people were strangers and she had nothing to prove to them. She had something to prove to herself. Penelope didn’t make a habit of self-deception, but it was still aggravating to admit that she wouldn’t last another six days without sacrificing things that she couldn’t afford to lose.

It was too late to back out. Even if Will would allow it, her pride wouldn’t let her give that much ground.

Which meant she needed something else to occupy her time and keep her focused. If she had business concerns to deal with, it would be easier to regulate her nights. Or that was the theory.

She was so busy planning, she nearly ran into the man standing in front of her before she realized he wasn’t going to move. Penelope looked up to see Nolan, the general manager of Serve. He nodded as if he’d been waiting for her. “Will wants to make sure you get into a cab all right.”

She blinked. “I’ve been catching cabs all my life, sugar.”

“All the same.”

Another way he was exerting control over her. She bit back a sharp reply, because it wasn’t Nolan’s fault she was cranky. She’d go along with this—for now. But next time he saw her, she’d figure out a way to get the upper hand. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He opened the cab door and waited for her to slide in before he shut it firmly.

She sat back, her thoughts swirling as the cab lurched into motion. Will said he had big plans for her tomorrow, but he hadn’t given any indication as to when she could expect to hear from him. Penelope huffed out a breath. No doubt he’d call at the most inconvenient time and expect her to jump at the snap of his fingers.

Her stomach flipped at the thought.

God, no. She wasn’t going to give him any more control by obsessing about what tomorrow would bring, or by sitting on her phone, waiting for his call. That was exactly what he wanted. If he thought for a second that she was looking forward to seeing him again, he’d hold off just to mess with her. Unacceptable.

Penelope crossed her arms, trying to ignore the way her body pulsed with the remains of pleasure and pain that wasn’t pain. Despite her best efforts, Will had played her better than any instrument. Worse, he knew it.

It didn’t matter. She’d find a way to keep it from happening again.

She just had to figure out how to get the power back in her hands, and fast.

Chapter Five

Will hung up the phone, fuming. Three phone calls to Penelope, all unanswered and unreturned. Her receptionist had said she was out of the office with no plans to stop by for the rest of the day. She was dodging him, making him work for her time. He dropped his cell onto his desk. He’d fully intended to have her here for lunch, to implement his plan to start breaking through her walls and giving her more pleasure than she could have dreamed. Knowing he was the first one to dominate her made him want to set a standard no one else could live up to.

It was selfish and wrong and more than a little vain, but that wasn’t going to stop him. She’d pushed him closer to losing control than he’d been in nearly a decade, and he couldn’t help the desire to punish her for it.

But he couldn’t damn well do so when he couldn’t locate her.

It was Saturday, yes, but she would be in the office just like he was. She was too married to her job to be anywhere else. Will sat back and tapped his steepled fingers against his lips. He could always go to her office and wait for her. The very idea irked him—his time was too valuable to be spent on a lobby couch, reading magazines and cooling his heels. But he had to do something, because he couldn’t allow her to get away with this infraction.

He pushed to his feet and headed for the door. Marissa looked up as he passed her desk. “Do you need something?”

“No. I’ve got a lead to run down, so forward my calls to my cell.”

“Sure thing.”

The winter air slapped his face, but the temperature did nothing to cool his ire. He set off, eating up the distance with his long strides. Carson & Associates was a handful of blocks away, and he needed that distance to get a hold of himself. What was he going to do? Burst in there and turn her over his knee?

It wasn’t an option, no matter how pleasing he found the idea.

Like it or not, he was trapped by the same set of rules Penelope was now flaunting. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—put her career or professional image in danger. It would be inexcusable, even if he wasn’t acting as her Dom for the next week. He was supposed to protect her. Push her to her limits, yes. Stretch her boundaries in ways she never would have considered, of course. But harming her in any way? Unacceptable.

He clenched his hands and forced them to relax. She would be punished for making herself scarce, but it would be in a controlled environment—no matter how much he wanted to put her in her place as soon as he laid eyes on her.

Will took a right, finding the business sign a few doors down. The door led up a narrow flight of stairs and into a surprisingly roomy office. It was colored in tones of fall, all warm beiges and browns with a few burnt orange pillows as counterpoint. He’d expected something more industrial or streamlined to go with Penelope’s ball busting attitude, but perhaps he should have considered her southern roots. Every part of this waiting room was designed to relax a client, to make them comfortable and get them to lower their barriers. He was impressed despite himself.

A man who barely looked more than sixteen sat behind the receptionist’s desk. His eyes went wide when he took in Will. “Can I help you?”

“Point me in the direction of Penelope’s office.”

The man’s eyes darted to a hallway leading to a set of three doors. “She’s not in, but I can take a message.”

He was lying through his teeth. Will turned on his heel and stalked down the hallway to the last door, which had her name on a plaque outside it. He opened the door without knocking then kicked it shut behind him, cutting off the babbling receptionist.

Penelope sat behind a desk that was bigger than his, her phone pressed against her ear. He crossed his arms, waiting.

“I’m going to have to call you back, sugar,” she told the person on the other end of the line, then hung up without waiting for an answer. “What are you doing here?”

“I could be asking you the same question.” He jerked his chin at the door. “Your receptionist seems to be under the mistaken impression that you were out of the office for the day. And your phone must be broken, because that’s the only possible reason I can come up with for you not returning my calls.”

“Or maybe I had things to take care of and didn’t feel like going another round with you.”

“That’s a shame, pet, because it’s not your call.” He reached behind him and locked her door, the click absurdly loud in the silence of the room. Will waited for her to protest, but she merely raised her eyebrows in a challenge. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you provoke me for the sheer pleasure of receiving a punishment.”

“That’s absurd.”

Was it? He rounded the desk, taking in her clothing with a single sweep of his gaze. Today it was a fitted dress that hugged her curves, framing the mounds of her breasts to perfection and covering her to her knees. It was a startling green that made his mouth water. “If you’re aiming for modest with this dress, you’re missing the mark by miles.”

Penelope snorted. “You don’t know a lot about women’s fashion.”

“I know enough. Up.” He motioned.

“Are you going to spank me, Sir?”

He didn’t miss the interest that lighted her eyes at the thought. So, he’d been right. She was deliberately provoking him to get a specific response. “Hands on the desk.” He moved the chair out of the way so he could stand behind her. Christ, she had a body that went on for days. Between that and her attitude, was it any wonder she tempted him in ways no woman had in his living memory?

Will allowed himself to slide his hands down her sides to cup her hips. “You want me to spank you.” He kept going, hooking his fingers beneath the hem of her dress. “You loved it when I did last night.” With one swift move, he peeled her dress up, baring her from the waist down. As he’d suspected, she was missing a vital part of her wardrobe. “You’ve been sitting here all morning, fantasizing about my doing it again.”

“You have an overinflated opinion of yourself. I haven’t spared you a thought since I left that room last night.”

“Liar. I’ll tell you a secret, pet.” He nipped the back of first one thigh and then the other. “Are you listening?”

“You’re not exactly giving me a choice.”

“You always have a choice.” He paused. “Do you want to use your safe word?”

She muttered several uncomplimentary things about him under her breath. “No, Sir.”

He rose and pressed himself against her, setting his hands on either side of hers on the desk, bracketing her in. Despite her bold words, her body shook with each brush of his lips against her ear. “If you want something, all you have to do is ask.”

She cleared her throat. “Excuse me?”

“It’s my job—my privilege—to take care of your needs.” He stroked her wrists with his thumbs. “You don’t have to act out to provoke a response. Simply ask.”

…

Simply ask?

Penelope held her breath, not sure what would come out of her mouth if she let it. At this moment, it was a toss up between a hysterical laugh and a confession that would give him everything he demanded. She jumped when he nipped her earlobe. “That was an order.”

Why hadn’t she gone with her gut and worked from home today? Every time she saw his name on her cell, her heartbeat picked up, and it took a full ten minutes to settle down and get back to her list of potential future clients. He was messing with her ability to do her job—which was exactly why she’d kept her dating life on such a tight restriction. But she and Will weren’t dating. Not by a long shot.

She’d never thought he’d actually consider coming to her office if he’d been told she wasn’t there. Obviously she’d underestimated Will. It was a mistake she refused to make again. She took a shuddering breath. What did she want? So many things that were impossible to put into words, most of which were well beyond his reach, and thankfully so. If she was going to successfully maintain her distance during this, having Will deliver her wildest dreams wasn’t going to help.

But she could give in, just a little, to allow him to think he’d won this round. He wouldn’t let this go until she answered him, or that was what she told herself. “I want you to make me come again.”

“Hmm.” He shifted, one of his hands moving to cup between her legs.

The contact made her breath catch in her lungs. The feeling only got worse when he gently slipped his fingers through her folds, directly over her clit. It was a struggle not to rock against him. “Oh God.”

“This is what you wanted?” He kept up that motion, the friction sending sparks through her entire body.

More. She wanted so much more. But she bit her lip to keep that demand inside.

He knew—damn him, he always seemed to know—because he stopped. “There’s something else.”

No. Yes. Maybe. She closed her eyes, trying to fight against the desire turning her brain to mush. This should be enough. She didn’t have to give him anything more. “I—”

“Tell me, pet.” His voice roughened, just like it had last night. He used his foot to nudge her feet wider apart, his hand still cupping her. “What do you want?”

Her fingers dug into the desk. “I want you to take me with your fingers, mouth, and…and your cock.” She felt him groan, even though he didn’t make a sound. Had she shocked him? Good. She simultaneously wanted to make him pay for forcing her to admit this, and never wanted him to stop touching her. So she kept talking, hoping to drive him as out of control as she felt. “I want you to fuck me on my desk and cover my mouth with your hand so no one can hear me screaming.”

“Do you think you deserve it after the way you’ve acted this morning?” His breath was definitely more ragged. She almost wished she could see his face, to see if he still wore that cold mask or if that delicious heat was back in his eyes.

“No, Sir.”

He laughed hoarsely. “You’re right.” Before disappointment could take root, he kept going, “But I’m inclined to be forgiving, just this once.” He pushed a big finger into her, the feeling nearly making her eyes roll back in her head.

“Why?”

“Because, pet, honesty should be rewarded.” A second finger joined the first. “And next time you disobey me to prove a point, I want you to consider how well I reward good behavior.”

As if there were any chance of her forgetting this. With his body against hers and his fingers slowly fucking her, it felt like Will had imprinted himself on her very soul. It was scary—terrifying, really—but he didn’t give her the opportunity to think too hard about it.

He released her and spun her around to lift her onto the desk. With her dress bunched up around her hips, it left her bare from the waist down. Apparently that wasn’t good enough, though, because he tugged down the top of her dress, freeing her breasts. “Christ.” He palmed them, something in his eyes that she had no name for. On any other man, she’d call his gaze worshipful, but this was Will. She had to be misreading the signs.

“Spread your legs.”

She obeyed. This was what she’d wanted, after all. By declaring the terms, she’d managed to wrestle control from him—or at least that was the theory. Right now she and control weren’t on speaking terms. She watched, her heart in her throat, and he undid his pants and freed his cock. Oh. My. God. It was directly in proportion with the rest of him, which meant it was big enough to make her shake. It had been so long since she’d had sex—seven long months. She’d played at Serve, but that was a line she hadn’t chosen to cross.

The fact that she was doing it now, with Will, was almost enough to clear her head. Almost.

But then he pulled a condom out of his pocket and rolled it on, and any argument she could have come up with to end this now disappeared as if it’d never been. Stop before she felt him inside her? Absolutely not. She wanted this—even if she would regret it later.

He used his hand to guide the broad head of his cock through her folds, notching it at her entrance. She whimpered, rolling her hips to take him inside her, but he stopped her with his hands on her hips, murmuring, “I almost forgot.”

“Wait!”

But he was already stepping back. She stared down dumbly at him as he went to his knees in front of her. Will’s blue eyes were stormy. “You had very specific desires, pet.”

What was he…? Oh.

Her thoughts shorted out as he sucked her clit into his mouth. She gripped the edge of the desk with white-knuckle force to keep herself from lacing her fingers through his blond hair. She may be getting everything she asked for, but there were still lines she didn’t want to cross. So she kept from touching him as he fucked her with his tongue the same way he’d fucked her with his fingers. Just when she was on the edge of losing everything to his oral assault, he rose and resumed his position. There was no hesitation this time, though. He shoved into her, spearing her to the hilt, his groan a match for the one that slipped from her lips at the intrusion.

I am having sex with Will Reaver.

Before she could truly start to panic, he moved, pulling nearly all the way out of her and then thrusting home again. A low moan escaped before she could stop it, and he gave her a kiss that she felt right down to her clit.

Will moved back a little, adjusting his angle, and wrapped an arm around her lower back. Then he covered her mouth with one of his massive hands and thrust again. In this position, he rubbed against every hot spot she had. Her eyes drifted shut of their own accord, and her body moved against him like he was some kind of sexual puppeteer, controlling her reactions.

His voice rumbled in her ear. “I always take care of what’s mine.”

A small part of her whispered that somewhere between dictating what they would do and him actually doing it, she’d lost control. She should be pushing to regain it, but she was too lost in the sensation of him moving within her to care. Pleasure built with each stroke of his cock, with each rasp of his breath in her ear, with the knowledge that if he didn’t have his hand over her mouth someone would hear her moans.

Will whispered, “Come for me, Penelope.”

Her body obeyed before her mind had registered the command, her orgasm racking her body and forcing her to draw him closer. She’d clutched him to her at some point, though she was at a loss to say when, and her fingers dug into his sides. He gentled his movements, letting her drift down from that high place he’d driven her.

He kissed her forehead and pulled away. “Good girl.”

She watched him dispose of the condom and refasten his pants over that impressive erection. He didn’t come. While she was still trying to process that, he captured her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “If you pull a stunt like this again, you won’t like the results. Are we clear?”

Penelope nodded, not trusting her ability to speak.

“Good.” He walked around the desk and stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “I expect you at Luigi’s tomorrow night at seven. Do not be late.”

She waited until she heard the door close to exhale. What the hell had just happened?

Chapter Six

Will spent the rest of the Saturday and all of Sunday in agony caused by his own actions. As soon as he’d left Penelope’s office, he’d cursed himself. It had been a foolish power play that accomplished nothing but an aching case of blue balls. As soon as he hit the street, a part of him wanted to turn around and finish what he started. But no. Holding back was proof that he hadn’t lost the control he valued above all else. Control that felt dangerously close to slipping.

He swirled his scotch, staring at the amber liquid. He’d gone to her office with the full intention of punishing her for her disobedience. But seeing the desire written all over her face, and recognizing that she fought him so hard because she wanted exactly what he could give her… He never should have asked her what she wanted. He never should have called her his.

She wasn’t. Penelope wouldn’t stay past the seventh day she’d promised him, and he shouldn’t want her to. It was a longer assignation that he’d ever indulged in, for precisely this reason—it was nearly impossible to retain the distance he needed when spending such a sheer amount of time with a submissive.

The fact that it was this submissive had nothing to do with it.

He checked to make sure she hadn’t appeared yet. He’d purposefully shown up early to allow time to ground himself, with the added bonus of creating an environment where she’d feel like she was coming into his territory.

Satisfied she was nowhere in sight, he dialed his phone and waited for the call to connect. Nolan answered in his usual, “What do you need?”

Will had always like that about the man—he never failed to cut straight to the heart of things. “I wanted to thank you for seeing my wayward sub to a cab the other night.”

“It was no problem. It’s my job to make sure there are no problems.” As manager of Serve, Nolan kept things in line and made sure the owner, Jonah, wasn’t bothered by the tedious day to day tasks that came with owning one of the predominant BDSM clubs in New York.

“I have another favor to ask.”

“What’s that?”

Will hesitated. He cleared his throat, annoyed all over again. This was a completely legitimate plan, and one he’d implemented with submissives in the past with no problems. He told Nolan what he wanted, and the man didn’t hesitate.

“I can make that happen. What night were you thinking?”

Tonight. But what came out of his mouth was something else altogether. “Wednesday.”

“Will do.”

“Thank you.” He hung up, preoccupied with his impulsiveness. It wasn’t a trait Will normally had to deal with, and he wasn’t pleased with the new development. He needed to prove to himself that he wasn’t unduly connected with Penelope, and there was one surefire way to do so. But apparently his mouth had sprouted a mind of its own, because now he had three days to burn before he could put things into motion.

He looked up at the exact moment that Penelope walked through the front door. She once again wore white, this time a floor-length dress with a golden band around her waist. The dip wasn’t anywhere near as daring as the dress she’d worn at Serve the other night, but seeing the barest hint of the curves of her breasts made his blood rush south. She’d done something to her hair that replaced her tight curls with larger wavy ones.

He was surprised to find he missed them.

She made her way to his table, and he stood to pull out her chair. “You look exquisite.”

“You’re in a remarkably good mood considering how our lunch interlude ended.” She leaned forward, drawing his gaze down to her chest. “Have you been playing with yourself since I saw you last?”

So, the gloves were off. He sat back, feeling as if they were once again on solid ground. “Can’t stop thinking about that orgasm, can you?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, sugar.”

“I don’t have to. I felt your screams against my palm as you came around my cock.”

She jerked back. “That’s déclassé, even for you.”

“You didn’t think it was déclassé when I was inside you.”

Penelope shook her head. “As delightful as this has been, I think it’s more than clear that we shouldn’t spend time together outside of our arrangement.” She moved to stand.

“Sit.”

She dropped back into her chair, glaring daggers. “What do you want, Will?”

That was the question of the hour. He almost wished he’d never made this bet because it’d changed things, even if he still wasn’t sure what was altered. All he knew was that, for the first time in years, he found himself looking forward to something besides closing an account and turning a business from a money pit into a success. It had to be the challenge Penelope presented that made him feel like this, because no other explanation made sense. He wanted to bend her to his will, to show her that if she’d simply stop fighting him for a while, he’d give her everything she ever wanted and more. He wanted control.

At the same time, he enjoyed Penelope’s defiance.

“Order, pet. You’re not leaving until we’ve finished dinner.”

“You, Sir, are an ass.”

“So I’ve been told.” He motioned to her menu, and waited for her to pick it up before he did the same. He’d been there enough times to know what he wanted, so he merely watched Penelope. She had been the bane of his professional existence for so long that it was strange to be sitting across the table from her. But now the memories of his various defeats were mingled with the events of the last three days. Her, naked but for her garters, bent over the spanking bench. Or spread for him on her desk, her body shuddering as he brought her to orgasm. He licked his lips, half sure he could still taste her there.

Perhaps she was right. They obviously fit well enough in the bedroom. Why was he pushing this dinner?

Even as he asked the question, he knew the answer. He needed distance. It seemed like every time he touched her, he lost a little more of his hard-won control. By forcing them to spend nonsexual time together, he was effectively reinforcing the truth—he didn’t feel anything other than agitation for her outside the bedroom, and never would.

The waiter appeared and took their orders, but was gone before he could be an effective distraction. Then it was just Will and Penelope again, staring across the table at each other. He asked, “How did your family end up here?”

Her eyebrows inched up. “Well, I suppose the same way other black folks—”

“Christ, Penelope, that’s not what I meant and you know it. You have a Georgian accent and you live in New York. Obviously you grew up in the South, so what brought your family north?”

“Why are we doing this? You don’t really care about the answer.” She picked up her wine glass. “Is this the punishment you were too distracted to give me yesterday?”

She thought spending time with him was a punishment. He shouldn’t be surprised. Hadn’t he just been thinking that they could barely stand each other? But some nameless emotion wormed through him, making him frown. “Answer the question.”

She sighed. “I was born in Savannah, and we lived there until I was ten. Around then, my grandfather decided he was ready to retire and pass the family business on to my father. So we relocated.” A shadow flickered through her eyes, but she banished it almost immediately.

He wanted to know what caused that shadow. “Do you ever think about going back?”

“Trying to get rid of the competition?” She gave a mirthless smile. “No. There’s nothing for me in Savannah.”

Her tone seemed to indicate that there was something in Savannah—something she’d rather avoid. “So your father took over the business.” He hadn’t had much interaction with any Carson other than Penelope, and he was suddenly curious as to what kind of parents created a woman like her—strong and bold, with a take no prisoners attitude. “What about your mother?”

…

Penelope forced herself to keep her grip light on the wine glass. If she let Will know that he was dancing across forbidden territory, he’d never let the subject go. She wouldn’t cut herself just so he could watch her bleed. “My mother…” She trailed off, not sure what to say.

Her mother wasn’t a bad woman, but she’d never understood Dad and his need to carry on the success of Carson & Associates. Even at ten, Penelope had known her mother hated New York, hated being taken away from her family in Georgia. She’d lasted less than two years before she’d presented Dad with her ultimatum—the business or his marriage.

She’d moved back to Savannah within the month, and she’d never quite forgiven Penelope for only coming to visit during the summers, or for going to school in the North, despite the fact that it was Harvard. To Mom, she would always be Micah Junior.

A constant memory of the man who could never be enough for her.

Penelope took a sip of her wine, aware she’d been silent too long. “My mother and I have a complicated relationship.”

She expected him to pounce on her hesitation, to exploit it and force her to explain what she meant. But Will nodded as if he understood. It struck her that she didn’t know a single thing about him outside of his business and sexual reputation. “Are your parents from here?”

“Yes. My siblings and I grew up in New York.” He caught her questioning look. “I have a little sister, and you’ve already met Garrett.”

He and his twin were like something out of a romance novel, each too big and brawny and beautiful to exist, let alone for there to be two of them. And they had a little sister. Penelope paused to consider what it would be like growing up with Will as a brother. “Your sister didn’t date much, did she?”

He laughed, surprising her so much she almost dropped her glass. Two laughs in three days. That had to be some kind of record. “Sara has a mind of her own. She always has, despite every man in our family wanting to protect her.”

Penelope had always wanted siblings, especially during those lonely summers in Georgia, being carted around by her resentful mother. But she’d trained herself a long time ago to stop wishing for something that would never happen. “I like her already.”

“I suspect she’d approve of you as well,” he said, then sat back, like the very idea shocked him. She’d never meet his sister, or any other member of his family. This thing between them had an expiration date—which was a relief. Dating Will Reaver? Falling for Will Reaver? The very idea was laughable.

Penelope kept the conversation moving before things could get truly awkward. “And your parents? Are they still around?”

“My father and uncle.”

She was about to make a joke, but the expression on his face stopped her. She knew enough about old pain to recognize it when she saw it. Apparently she wasn’t the only one with mother issues. It was tempting to prod him, to see what other information she could learn. Was his mother dead? It would certainly explain a few things. Penelope had spent nearly two-thirds of her life without the tender loving care that came with a maternal relationship, but she’d seen her friends and their mothers. That kind of thing softened a person.

Really, she should be thankful her mother was such a resentful… God, she couldn’t call her names, even in her head. Her upbringing was too deeply ingrained. She showed respect for her parents, even at the times when they didn’t deserve it.

She stared at Will, wondering where to take the conversation from here. His favorite color? If he liked long walks on the beach before he took a flogger to his submissives? Maybe they could talk about the weather. She took another sip of her wine. “I—”

“You went to Harvard?”

He looked as strained as she felt. She stopped herself from asking him again what they were doing. He obviously didn’t know any more than she did. Someone needed to show up to put them both out of their misery. Except… She wasn’t completely miserable. This strange conversation wasn’t painful, exactly, just weird. “I had my pick of schools, but that was always the one I had my sights on.”

“Only the best for you.” He said it without any condemnation, as if she’d just confirmed something he suspected. “You’re a worthy opponent.”

She laughed. “Well, every hero needs a villain counterpart.”

“I agree. The question is, which of us is which.”

“Well, obviously I’m the villain. They always have a better wardrobe.”

He focused on her, searing her to the bone. “There is that. Your clothing is inspirational.”

There was no mistaking his meaning. She leaned forward, liking the way he seemed to drink in the sight of her. Now, finally, they were back onto solid ground. She knew how to verbally spar with this man, and she recognized how easy it was to take a half step sideways and turn that flirting into sparring. It was so much better to take that path than to find out more about him.

Because she wanted to know more. Even knowing it would be a mistake she may never recover from, she itched to put together the puzzle that was Will Reaver

She smiled. “If you think the dress is inspirational, you should see what I’m wearing underneath it.”

Chapter Seven

Will recognized what Penelope was doing, but he chose to allow it. This whole conversation had filled him with the unsettled feeling that he was walking along the edge of a cliff, and one wrong step would send him hurtling over. It was far safer to move back to sex, even with the potential loss of control threatening.

“Show me.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“You heard me, pet.”

She looked around, obviously registering that he’d chosen a table a small distance away from the rest, where he could sit with his back to the wall. Which meant no one behind Penelope could see her front. Still, it was a risk and they both knew it. He was testing her, seeing exactly how far her obedience would go. Would she risk getting escorted out of the restaurant because he demanded it of her?

Apparently the answer was yes.

She leaned forward even more, shrugging the strap of her dress off her shoulder and exposing her breast. His gaze dropped to her dark nipple, already puckering as if wanting his mouth there. The force of his desire had him gripping the table to keep from reaching for her. Dinner was supposed to be a slow seduction, one that left Penelope begging for more. Right then, she didn’t look like she was in danger of begging for anything.

No, she was grinning at him as if she knew just how close he was to dragging her to a nearby bathroom and fucking that look right off her face.

She replaced the strap just as the waiter walked up with their food. She was all bright eyes and thanks to the man, but the secret smile on her lips said she knew Will couldn’t take his eyes off her. He’d seen her all but naked, but there was something about that illicit peek that just did things for him. He wanted her, and he wanted her now.

He ate with a single-minded intensity, but his entire focus was on her. She kept running her finger down the dip of her dress, adjusting here and there and giving him glimpse after glimpse of those dark nipples. Christ.

His fork scraped his plate and he looked down to find it empty. He couldn’t even remember what the damn food tasted like. “You have thirty seconds to finish your meal.”

“Are you feeling a bit overheated, Will?”

He met her gaze. “From this moment on, you know the proper way to address me.”

She jerked back, some of her smugness disappearing. “Yes, Sir.” No questioning. No pushing the limits of his patience. He wasn’t fool enough to believe she wouldn’t start digging in her heels as soon as she got her wits about her, but he didn’t plan on giving her the chance. He paid, tipping the man well, pushed to his feet, and held out his hand for her. She barely had time to slip her hand into his before he was towing her behind him, out of the restaurant and onto the street.

Will had every intention of hailing a cab, but he made it all of three steps before he had to give into the desire to touch her. He pulled her into his arms, his attention landing on her lips. He didn’t make a habit of kissing his submissives. It sent the wrong message and complicated something that didn’t need to be complicated.

But he might die if he didn’t taste Penelope right that instant.

So he did. He took her mouth even as he cupped her ass to line her hips up with his, showing her just what he thought of her being a little tease. She went soft in his arms, eagerly opening her mouth to take him, her tongue meeting his halfway.

He took the two steps to bring them flush against the alley wall, grinding against her until she moaned for him. There was nothing he wanted more than to yank up her dress and take her right there against that wall. It wasn’t a punishment, and it wasn’t a reward—it was something he needed more than he needed air to breathe.

A whistle brought him out of his lust haze. He lifted his head and found they’d acquired an audience at some point. Two college-aged kids stood a little way down the block, nudging each other and grinning like they’d just won the lottery. Penelope’s eyes were glazed over and she arched against him in an attempt to take back his mouth. He almost let her. Will didn’t mind an audience, but not like this.

He stepped back and gently guided her to the curb where he hailed a cab. It was on the tip of his tongue to rattle off his home address, but he changed his mind at the last moment and went with Serve. Things were already confused enough without taking her home with him. At the club, they would be able to retain at least the semblance that this was because of the arrangement and not because he wanted her so badly he was tempted to make a move right there in the cab.

He managed to control himself until they reached their destination. He kept a hold of her hand as they made their way to the elevator and up to the second floor. There, he paused, reality intruding.

Public sex wasn’t discouraged by any means, but it wasn’t something he indulged in. Ever. But taking one of the private rooms almost defeated the purpose of coming here in the first place. He was losing control. He hadn’t had it since their food arrived, and the fact he’d almost taken her against a damn wall was clear evidence that he needed to put on the brakes—and quickly.

So he let go of Penelope’s hand and took a step back. “Strip.”

She blinked. “What?” When he waited, she shook her head as if stepping out of a daze. “Ah, right. Yes, Sir.” She put an ironic edge on the last word, as if she knew exactly what he was doing.

It unsettled him, even as he told himself that it was fully within his right to guide things to his satisfaction. He folded his arms over his chest and watched her slip out of her dress. Once again, she wore nothing underneath. If the public nudity bothered her, she gave no sign, and he battled down the strange urge to cover her up. It didn’t make the least bit of sense, especially considering he’d never had a problem with other submissives being stripped in the main play rooms before. “Your collar?”

She pulled it out of her purse, and warmth kindled in his chest at the knowledge that she carried it with her. It was par for the course, but it still pleased a deep, secret part of him. The same part that wanted his marks across her skin and to fuck her until her entire world narrowed to him and only him. Irrational. Insane. Definitely dangerous. But he couldn’t kill those urges any more than he could end this arrangement before the seven days were up.

He stepped around her and buckled the wide collar around her throat, a part of him instantly settling at the sight of it there. This collar marked her as his, at least as far as the patrons of Serve were concerned. No one else would touch her without his permission.

One of the three St. Andrew’s Crosses was empty, and that’s where he led her. “Stay here.” Before she could respond, he turned on his heel and headed for the lockers down the hall. He always kept a bag of toys there, and tonight he was going to need most of them to get himself under control.

He did his best to ignore the small voice whispering that it wouldn’t be enough.

…

Penelope kept her gaze on the floor, half-worried that she’d mistakenly make eye contact with someone and have to find a hole in the ground to crawl into. They wouldn’t approach, though—the collar around her neck assured of that. The fact didn’t help the embarrassment climbing up her chest and neck at being left without a stitch of clothing between her and the rest of the room.

Where was Will? Surely he wouldn’t make her stand here for hours? She’d seen it done before—there were as many different ways to play BDSM power games as there were people to play them.

She was so busy resigning herself to spending most of the night waiting for him that she jumped half out of her skin when he appeared at her shoulder. “God, sugar, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” The hard look on his face nearly sent her to her knees, and she had to fight not trip all over herself to apologize.

“Spread your legs.”

It took her a few seconds to obey, because she was still trying to process the change in him. Dinner may have been a little awkward, but that kiss afterward had set her afire. To go from that back to Ice King was extremely jarring.

A little sliver of betrayal cut through her, but she did her best to banish it. The evening they’d just passed was the exception, not the rule. This was Will, from the hard set of his mouth to the non-expression in his eyes. The man she’d just ate with and enjoyed teasing was the phantom. She simply had to remember that and keep her guard up until their time was done. Really, she should thank him for not lulling her into a false sense of security after dinner.

Easier said than done.

He knelt before her, and her traitorous body perked up in anticipation. She could still feel his tongue between her legs, driving her to orgasm. But apparently that wasn’t on the books tonight.

Penelope stared as he pulled a dildo out of his bag. What in God’s name is he planning? He didn’t look up at her as he smeared a dollop of lube onto it, taking her obedience as a matter of course. She bit her lip, trying to decide if she should protest. “Will?”

He still didn’t look up. “Do you want to use your safe word?”

No, but she’d like a little reassurance. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she closed her eyes. Somewhere in the course of the evening, she’d started expecting him to treat her as if she really mattered to him. Stupid. Whatever little slice of peace they’d carved out earlier, there was a line in the sand that they still stood on opposite sides of. And they always would. She had to remember that, no matter what else she gave him, she couldn’t give him her heart.

He’d crush it without a second thought.

She took a deep breath. “No, Sir.”

“Good.” He slid the dildo into her in one smooth move, filling her nearly as completely as his cock did. She shifted, but went still when he shot her a look. “Hold still.” Next came the straps, sliding up her legs and hooking around her waist, holding it inside her. Ignoring his look, she rolled her hips, trying to get comfortable. That’s when the buzzing started. A vibrator?

Will stood and turned her around to face the St. Andrew’s cross. She hesitated, but then raised her wrists to press against the upper arms. The wood was rough against her bare skin, a direct contrast to the delicious sparks already starting to spread through her body because of the vibrator. That conflicted feeling only got more pronounced as he cuffed her wrists in place and then did the same with her ankles, leaving her splayed for anyone to see.

She rolled her hips again, and she could have sworn she heard Will curse. Maybe he wasn’t as unaffected as he acted? Testing him, she did it again. Oh, yes, he was definitely affected.

He stepped closer, pressing himself against her back much the same way he’d done in her office. “I’m feeling generous, pet. I’m willing to allow you to choose the instrument.”

A little shiver worked its way through her. She hated that shiver. She didn’t want to be so influenced by him when he stood there behind his mask. So she reached for the attitude to give her some necessary distance. “This is what you call generous?”

“The crop, the paddle, or the flogger?”

He gave her nothing. It made her want to curse and holler until he gave some kind of reaction. “Why not all three?” She regretted her words the second they were out of her mouth.

“Very well.”

Oh shit.

He lifted her hair and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, his tongue playing along the sensitive skin until her knees buckled. “Trust me, pet.”

Easier said than done. She’d been around the block enough times to know that it was the Dom’s job to push boundaries, and she’d delighted in doing exactly that with the subs she played with. She didn’t imagine Will was any different. But she wasn’t a true masochist—or as experienced as the subs he seemed to play with regularly. He knew that. Surely he wouldn’t take things too far?

“Breathe, Penelope.”

The shock of hearing her name out of his mouth steadied her a little. She had her safe word, though she’d never heard of a sub using one with him. He asked for her trust and she’d do her best to give it. She let out a shuddering exhale.

“There.” He ran a hand down her spine. “Keep breathing. Tell me your safe word.”

“Dracula.” It was barely more than a whisper, but he heard her.

“Good girl.” He checked her cuffs one last time and stepped back. “We’ll start with the flogger.”

Chapter Eight

Will swung the flogger, warming up his wrist, watching Penelope tense at the whistle of the flails through the air. It wasn’t as pleasing a sound as the cane, but it was still one of his favorite toys. He’d purposefully picked a lighter variety, since he’d never used one on her before. Typically he played with the harsher end of the pain spectrum. Canes were his favorite, but…

Not tonight. Perhaps not ever with her. Canes went well beyond the medium pain scale that she’d said she was comfortable with. It was something that he’d be willing to explore with a long-term sub—helping them find out where their limits really stood—but seven days wasn’t nearly enough time to go there.

And seven days was all he had.

Damn it. He was supposed to be getting them back onto solid ground—not thinking about what something past a week would look like. Will swung the flogger again, watching the way her back tensed. She didn’t know where the blow would hit, only that it would fall, but she wasn’t panicking or showing any true signs of distress.

Good.

He flicked the flogger out, giving it a little snap. She jerked as it hit her shoulder, but no sound escaped. Not that he expected anything else. The woman was nothing if not strong. Will kept the blows raining down on her, starting on her right shoulder and moving to her left, working down her back. Halfway through she started begging, begging him to stop, to keep going, to never touch her again.

It was only when she sagged into her bonds that he set the flogger aside and picked up the paddle. He was careful with the first swat, because she might still be tender from the other night. On the third smack, the breath sobbed from her chest, and her entire body shook. Will frowned. She should be out of her mind with pleasure. Had he misjudged her? He stepped closer. “Penelope?”

“Dracula.” The word was so faint, he had half a second to think he’d misheard. Horror replaced desire, and he rushed to get her out of her bonds. I took it too far. “I’m sorry, pet. Fuck, I’m so sorry.” How had he missed the signs? She’d been fine. He could have sworn she was right there with him. Goddamn it. It was his job to keep the scene from dancing too close to the edge, and he’d botched it.

He supported her as he unbuckled the strap around her waist and dropped the vibrator to the floor. Will swept her into his arms. She whimpered a little, and he felt like the worst kind of monster. He slipped into an empty private room and nudged the door shut with his foot.

This one was set up nearly identical to the one they’d used the other day, so he moved to the couch and pulled a blanket from the chest in front of it. Penelope’s shivers stopped a few moments after he wrapped the blanket around her, but she kept her face pressed against his chest and clung to him. He set his chin on the top of her head and waited, letting the fact sink in that it was over and she was safe. It had been a long time since he’d made such a misstep, and the fact he did it with her made things that much worse.

Because he knew exactly why it had happened.

He’d been so caught up in pushing them both away from what he considered dangerous ground that he’d swung them too far in the other direction. She’d trusted him and he’d abused that trust, intentionally or not. “I’m sorry.”

She took a breath and looked up, but he didn’t let her speak yet. Will placed a single finger against her lips. “Don’t say it’s okay, because it’s not yet. It will be, but you’re still in a place you shouldn’t be because I screwed up. So know I’m sorry, and that I’ll make it right.”

“You always were a know-it-all.” Her smile wasn’t as bright or sharp as normal.

“It’s a sickness.”

She laid her head back against his shoulder. “Look at you, making jokes again.”

“It’s one of my best kept secrets.” Though he could count on one hand how many people thought he had a sense of humor and still have fingers left over.

“Obviously.” She sighed and sat up. “I’m okay. More or less. I don’t know what happened.”

“I pushed too hard.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t read your distress until it was too late.”

“I…”

He needed to know exactly where things went wrong so he’d never make the same mistake again. He refused to make the same mistake again. “I knew you were mouthing off when you said you wanted all three, but from our previous conversations, I’d thought we were well within your boundaries.”

She ducked so he couldn’t see her face. “I did, too. It was just… I was fine and then…”

He held her close, as much for his comfort as for hers. “I won’t let it happen again.”

She lifted her head and rolled her eyes, some of the spunk he liked so much reappearing. “You mean the godlike Will Reaver actually makes mistakes? The world must be ending!” He wasn’t sure what his face showed, but she laughed. The sound wasn’t as carefree as he’d have liked, but it was a move in the right direction. “Surely this isn’t the first time you’ve messed up, sugar?”

“You’d be surprised.”

…

Penelope frowned, the last niggling fear slipping away. “You can’t be serious. Everyone makes mistakes.” Even she had botched a scene once or twice with a new sub.

“I don’t.” He kept touching her, as if to reassure himself that he hadn’t done permanent damage. She could have told him he hadn’t. Yes, she’d been frightened to the point where the strength of her reaction surprised even her, but she wasn’t hurt. Not really. It was as much her fault as his that they were in this place. She should have warned him that she was dancing close to the edge of her comfort level and beyond, but she’d gritted her teeth and been determined to ride it out. Idiot.

But then, she wasn’t laboring under the impression that she never made a misstep, either. “That’s impossible.”

“Not when I’m firmly in control.” He looked away. “I’ve had…issues…this week.”

Issues maintaining control? It appeared they were more in the same boat than she could have dreamed. She licked her lips, debating. She could come clean now and tell him that she was on an edge just as rickety as his. Or she could let him twist in the wind.

It wouldn’t make much difference in the long run, though—she and Will had an expiration date no matter which way she looked at things. But at least in telling him, she wouldn’t feel so vulnerable.

Or maybe she was just fooling herself.

Even knowing that, she couldn’t let this stand without some sort of reaching out. It would hurt him to do so. The thought should make her happy, but it only left her cold. She twisted the edge of the blanket. “I didn’t expect the level of my reactions.”

This was it. This was the moment when he’d take her confession and use it against her. Maybe it would be a sharp comment designed to make her shrink in upon herself. Or maybe he’d simply torment her for the next four days with the knowledge that she loved what he did to her.

It doesn’t matter. I can get through it.

“I didn’t, either,” he said. “It’s not a comfortable feeling.” He stroked a hand down her back, so lightly she barely felt it. “I value my control above all else. I can’t let go of it.”

She shifted, trying to get a better view of his face. “Everyone loses control sometimes.” Just like everyone made mistakes. She seemed to be doing both more and more often these days. She wanted to do whatever it took to wipe that tortured look off his face, and that desire was dangerous in ways she couldn’t begin to contemplate. Fall for Will? Only if she wanted a broken heart and Carson & Associates hurt in the fallout.

But she didn’t get up and walk away, even though she knew she should reverse the shrinking emotional distance between them. “I know we haven’t exactly been best friends up to this point but…you can talk to me.”

He leaned back, taking her with him, and tucked her against his chest so she couldn’t see his face. “It is imperative to maintain control in all things. If you don’t…” He exhaled harshly. “I watched what can happen to a man when the world around him falls apart because he didn’t hold onto things tightly enough, because he gave up control in every way that counts. I refuse to allow that to happen to me.”

Who? She sat there, thinking. The pieces clicked together with a snap—the fact he refused to talk about his mother. She’d wondered if his mother had died, and maybe that was exactly what had happened. As someone with similar issues, she could see how someone would crave control to battle those types of demons. Wasn’t her father’s way of dealing with her mother—by almost letting Carson & Associates tank—enough to scare her into promising herself she’d never let that happen to her? “When did she die?”

His body was so tense, it was a wonder it didn’t break apart into a million pieces. “She’s still among the living for all I know. I haven’t seen or heard from the woman in nearly ten years.”

Not dead, then. Penelope closed her eyes and wrapped her arms more firmly around him. “What happened?”

For a long moment, she didn’t think he’d tell her. “To this day, I’m not exactly sure. It was as if our life was good one day and everyone was happy, and the next she said she wasn’t happy—hadn’t been for a while. And then she was gone.” A shudder worked its way through his body. “It destroyed my father, turned him into a stranger. He let her get close, and when she left, she took part of him with her.”

Left. She let that truth settle over her. What kind of woman walked away from her children and never looked back? Penelope might have issues with her mother—a huge understatement—but she’d never doubted that she was loved. Understand her? Not in the least. But she cared in her own way. She couldn’t imagine what her life would have been like if her mother just washed her hands of the whole thing as soon as her marriage to Dad was over. Or, worse, before it was.

Anger rose, slow and steady with each beat of her heart. How dare that woman hurt her children like this? Some things were supposed to be sacred in this world, and that was one of them. Will had spent the last ten years trying to control every aspect of his life because of what happened with his mother. It made her want to kick something.

Instead, she shifted to straddle him and rose until they were eye level. God, he looked wrecked, his Ice King mask long gone, his blue eyes holding a decade’s worth of sorrow. Had he ever let it out? Even as she thought the question, she knew the answer. Of course not. She’d bet that he’d woken up the morning after his mother left and decided that he was going to keep control of himself and his emotions to avoid ending up hurt like his father—and then he never stopped.

She might not be a doctor of any nature, but even she knew that a soul wound could fester the same as a physical wound. Penelope cupped his face with her hands. When he didn’t tell her to stop, she stroked his cheeks with her thumbs. “I’m going to tell you something, and I need you to listen to me. Are you listening?”

His mouth quirked up. “I’m not one of your subs.”

Maybe not, but it wasn’t her dominant streak demanding its due now. No, it was a fierce protectiveness rising up inside her, making her want to obliterate this one memory that had been driving him for so long. It wasn’t possible, even if he was willing. But maybe she could help. “Your mother was a damn fool. When something is broken, you fix it. You don’t up and declare yourself unhappy and then walk away.” Even if her mother had done something similar, though to a lesser degree. They weren’t talking about her issues right now. “Only a coward runs when they should fight, and that’s exactly what she is. You deserved better than that.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were feeling protective of me.” His hands coasted up from her knees to her hips. “You don’t have to. I’m not that teenager anymore. I’m past it.”

No, he wasn’t, but you had to deal with things in order to get past them. “Some things you can’t just shake off through sheer force of will.”

“Then you don’t know me very well, pet.” He continued his upward movement, pushing the blanket off her shoulders. She considered arguing further, but she wouldn’t get any more out of him tonight. The fact that he’d admitted anything at all was victory enough.

Penelope rocked back a little, her thoughts tangled and racing. When had she decided that she wanted to get beneath his exteriors? Just a few hours ago, she’d been sure that she wanted to keep as much distance between them as possible—keep things sexual only. But she couldn’t fight the need to smooth that look off his face any more than she could fight the desire to run her fingers along his jaw.

She tried to maintain her reason as he palmed her breasts, and studied his face. She was still a sub to him—one with an expiration date. Which was a good thing. No matter what a mess her emotions had become when it came to this man, she couldn’t afford anything longer than this week. He was too dominant, too distracting, just too much.

Tonight, she could do.

And tonight was about doing what she could to help him. She couldn’t let him walk out of this room still dealing with this old hurt. He might never talk about it again.

But how to do it?

Even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew. The greatest gift she could give him was submitting completely without a battle. She’d fought long and hard to keep part of herself out of his reach, and that might be the very thing she needed to comfort him in the only way he’d accept.

She framed his face in her hands, her heart aching at the pain naked on his face. “Command me, Sir. Take me any way you want me.”

Chapter Nine

Nothing tonight had gone like Will had planned. From the dinner to the kiss on the street to the botched scene to confessing things he’d never confessed before. He’d half expected Penelope to lay on the accent, call him ‘sugar,’ and use the new information to put him firmly in his place. Instead she’d become as fierce as he’d ever seen her.

And now here she was, offering him everything.

He kissed her because there was nothing else to be done. No words could encompass his gratitude, or the sheer level of emotions rolling through him in waves. He’d never been so off the rails in his life, but he couldn’t have stopped if he wanted to. With this woman in his arms, her tongue twining with his, he didn’t want to.

So he didn’t.

Will pushed to his feet, taking her with him, and walked them to the bed. He carefully set her down on the edge. “On your stomach.”

She crawled fully onto the mattress and obeyed, watching him as he folded the blanket and set it aside. There was nothing but trust in her dark gaze—a trust he would do damn near anything never to betray again. No more mistakes, especially not where this miraculous woman was concerned.

He found the special balm Nolan kept stocked in all the rooms and climbed on the bed to straddle the back of Penelope’s thighs. “Thank you.”

“For what?” She sighed at the first contact of his hands on her skin, spreading the balm into the area he’d taken to with the flogger.

“For…” For not despising him for accidentally taking things too far. For not throwing his weakness in his face as he deserved. For turning around and offering her submission in a priceless gift. “For everything.” He went over her back, taking the time to massage the tight muscles along her shoulders and neck, and then working his way down her spine to the flare of her waist. It was only when she was limp and making little moaning sounds that he pressed a kiss to the small of her back. “Turn over, pet.”

She responded immediately, rolling onto her back and spreading her legs. If he couldn’t see the desire gleaming between her thighs, all he had to do was take one look at her expression. Need was written across her face, need he was only too happy to fulfill.

“Good girl.” He used his fingers to part her and flicked her clit with his tongue. She whimpered, so he did it again. “Your taste drives me to distraction.”

She moaned, but then her fingers were in his hair, tugging him upward. “Kiss me.”

Will was only too happy to grant that demand. He crawled up her body and kissed her, letting his weight sink onto her a little. She ran her hands down his sides, and that feeling of being touched, of her fingers against his skin, had him closing his eyes. He kissed her again to mask his response, but he couldn’t help growling against her mouth when she lightly raked her nails down his back. “Harder.”

“Yes, Sir.” She obeyed, and he couldn’t stop the uncontrollable jerk of his hips at the sparking of pain she left in her wake.

Condom. He needed a condom now, because he was dangerously close to throwing caution to the wind and slipping inside her. One last kiss and he climbed off her long enough to grab one from the chest at the end of the bed and roll it on. She was on her knees as he moved back to the bed and she met him at the edge of the mattress, kissing him as if she couldn’t stand the distance between them any more than he could.

He lifted her, and she didn’t hesitate to wrap her legs around his waist. Palming her ass, he slid her down his cock, until they were joined as closely as two people could be. She clung to him as he moved her up and down, her movements got more frantic and pressure gathered in his balls, demanding release.

She broke the kiss long enough to say, “God, Sir, that feels so good. You feel so good.” Penelope shifted her grip to his shoulders, her body moving in a wave as she fucked him where he stood. He held her easily, enraptured by the picture she made. And she was his. His.

It was almost too much. He had to close his eyes or risk losing it before she did. “Now, pet. Come on my cock.”

“Happily, Sir.” She kissed him again, her moans becoming his air as her pussy tightened around him, milking him until he had no choice but to let go. He walked them to the nearest wall and shoved deep again and again, coming so hard it was a wonder he managed to stay on his feet. All the while, she never once stopped kissing him.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just taken them somewhere from which they could never come back.

…

Penelope carefully dressed, her body still shaking from that orgasm, her back tender from the whipping Will had given her earlier. She couldn’t quite look at him, not sure what the next step was. That had been… There were no words to describe how good that had been. He’d taken care of her, touching her as if she was something priceless. And the sex. Good lord, her legs still weren’t steady after what they’d just done.

She didn’t want to leave him, didn’t want to get into a cab alone and go back to her empty apartment, but she wasn’t sure she could ask him… What? To come with her? To take her home? She slipped on her shoes and stood. Tonight had already taken them off the deep end. She refused to be the one responsible for pushing them even further.

Not when she so desperately needed to get her feet back on solid ground.

Will finished putting his toys back into his bag and stood. “Penelope.”

Now she had no choice but to look up, obeying the command in his tone. He held out a hand and pulled her to her feet. She expected him to release her the second he was sure of her balance, but she was sorely mistaken. He maintained his hold, leading her from the room and down the hall to the elevator. The public play room had mostly cleared out, but she could feel the eyes of the remaining people on her. The Ice King didn’t hold hands, and there was no other description for what they were currently doing.

The elevator ride to the main floor went far too quickly. With each passing moment, she became more and more sure she didn’t want to spend the rest of the night alone—and that if she said as much, Will would accommodate her. Hadn’t he told her time and time again that all she had to do was ask?

But things had changed tonight. By her comforting him and finally submitting fully, they’d crossed the line from physical into emotional. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, and this wasn’t going to be the moment when she figured it out.

They passed through the bar area while she was thinking hard, and then they were outside, standing before the row of cabs waiting to ferry people home. It was now or never. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t quite make the words come—didn’t know which words she wanted to come out. Damn it, she was better than this. She hadn’t been a coward the first twenty-six years of her life, and she wasn’t about to start now. “Will?”

“Come home with me.”

She nearly sagged against him as the command registered. He’d taken away her choice, taken away the need to decide what she wanted. For now. She nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

He held the cab door open for her and then followed her in, not giving her a chance to scoot to the other side of the bench seat before her pulled her against him, tucking her against his side. Her pent up breath released in a rush that left her dizzy. This. This was what she’d wanted—what she’d needed. The sex had been beyond outstanding, but aftercare was even more important in a way. She closed her eyes, and let herself sink into him and the safety he represented. It was so strange to be on the other side of things, to be the sub in need of comfort, though she knew from experience that the Dom got nearly as much out of aftercare as his or her submissive did.

It seemed like two seconds later that he was gently shaking her awake. “We’re here.”

She exited the cab, blinking blearily. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s okay.” He reclaimed her hand and led her into the building. She got the impression of industrial decor and then another elevator ride flashed by. God, she must be more tired than she’d thought, because she was having a difficult time focusing.

Will walked to a door halfway down the hallway and opened it. She paused just inside his apartment, taking in the same industrial style as the lobby. It was all very cold and clean and looked as if it were a model home instead of a place where someone actually lived. She moved to the kitchen with its empty sink and polished counters. Yes, he definitely didn’t spend much time here.

He stood in the entranceway while she wandered, as if waiting for her verdict. She turned to him and shrugged off her coat. “Where’s the bedroom?”

His smile was a reward in and of itself. “This way.”

The room to which he led her held all the personality that the rest of the place lacked. The comforter was thick and deep blue, and there was even art on the walls. She went to examine the pieces, surprised to find they were Agatha Turner, a photographer renowned for her classy nudes. The trio of pictures were all couples and sensual enough to have her heartbeat picking up, despite how exhausted she was.

“Penelope?” She turned to find him in the bathroom, holding a toothbrush still in its package. He caught her look and shrugged. “I don’t have many overnight guests, but I prefer to be prepared.”

Just like he did in every other aspect of life. She crossed to him, pressed a kiss to his cheek, and then went about brushing her teeth. It was strange to do this next to someone, which was silly considering what they’d spent the last three days doing, but this was a side of Will she never anticipated witnessing.

He stripped and she followed suit, climbing into that massive bed and nearly moaning when the mattress seemed to suck her down. “This bed is positively sinful.”

“I know.” Instead of letting the distance between them stand, he pulled her over and once against tucked her against his side. She thought about protesting—this was too intimate in the wake of the rest of tonight’s events—but sleep pulled her down before she could follow through.

Chapter Ten

Will spent most of the morning wrapped up in plans for the Falcon Bar. During the last few years the bootlegger theme had been wildly popular, but it was time for the wheel to turn again—and he planned to be on the first wave of the next big thing. With the growing popularity of shows like the Chippendales and their various competitors, Will had argued that the women of this city were a clientele just waiting to be tapped. The bar simply needed the right balance between crass and classy, and patrons would come through the doors in droves.

There would be the potential problem down the line of employing men who fit a specific mold, but he—reluctantly—planned on bringing his little sister in for that part. Sara might be difficult, but she had excellent taste and he knew she would understand and help realize his goals.

If she could keep her hands off the men.

He sighed and sent another email. Hiring dancers was a problem for another day. Right now, he had the get the building back up to code, which was a herculean feat on its own. He glanced at his phone. He and Penelope hadn’t spoken since he left her that morning in his bed with a note and a pot of coffee brewing in the kitchen. It was a bit foolish, but he’d at least hoped for a text when she woke up.

After last night, he felt like he’d taken two full steps into a world he no longer recognized. He’d broken rule after rule since taking Penelope on as his submissive, each one easier to blow past than the last. There were good, concrete reasons to have those rules in place, but he couldn’t remember a single one right then.

He picked up his phone before he could think too much about it and called. As the line rang, he wondered if she’d pull the same disappearing stunt she’d tried the other day. Will grinned. It’d be a pleasure to hunt her down and repeat that encounter.

But she answered. “Hello, Sir.”

He closed his eyes, doing his damnedest to keep his body from jumping to attention at her husky tone. “I didn’t hear from you this morning.”

“I had to be in the office early—though obviously not as early as you. Thank you for the coffee, by the way.”

There was something off with her tone, but he couldn’t be sure without being in the same room as her. Easy enough to fix that. “Meet me for dinner.”

A beat of silence. “I actually have plans tonight.”

He waited for her to continue, disappointment and something like jealousy souring his stomach. Christ. This was why he held so tightly to his control—the second he let it go, everything went sideways.

Penelope rushed on, “I’m sorry. If I’d known we’d be in the middle of this… But I didn’t when I made the plans. My friend, Addison, started seeing someone seriously last year and I don’t see nearly enough of her. Tonight has been planned for over a month, or I’d just cancel.”

It struck him that she was feeling just as much out of her element as he was. Though that fact should prove them both idiots, it reassured him a little. He shook his head. What the hell was he thinking? They weren’t in a high school romance. She was his submissive. She bowed to his will.

And she was looking to him for permission.

He pushed back the strange concoction of ugly emotions vying for control. “Have dinner with your friend, pet.” He waited for her exhale of relief before continuing, “But I expect you on my doorstep afterward. And, this time, you will be wearing nothing but the coat and heels. Is that understood?”

“I… Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.” His gaze landed on his computer. “Are you in your office?”

Another pause, shorter this time. “Yes, Sir.”

“Skype me.”

She laughed. “It would be my pleasure.”

A few seconds later, the icon popped up. He hung up his phone as he clicked the link, holding back a smile as the screen changed to show Penelope. She had her curls back today, and was wearing an orange dress that covered her from collarbones down to her wrists. “Stand up, pet. Let me see.”

She didn’t hesitate, rising and tilting the screen down so he could see that it hit her around mid-thigh. It was entirely too easy to imagine sliding his hand beneath the hem and touching her there. As he watched, she inched the bottom of the dress up, obeying but taking her time about it. When it finally reached her pussy, he exhaled harshly. “Do you ever wear panties?”

“Not when I know I’m going to see you.”

The answer, as unexpected as it was welcome, had him sitting back in his chair and scrubbing a hand over his face. She’d planned on seeing him at some point today, dinner plans or no. It shouldn’t matter…but it did. “Knee on the desk.”

The angle was ideal for seeing her from the waist down, but he found himself craving her expressions. “Do you remember how you refused to touch yourself?”

Her hand shook. “Yes, Sir.”

“I found that incredibly disappointing. Do it now.”

She switched her grip, using one hand to keep herself bared for him while she dipped a finger into her folds and drew her wetness up around her clit. The barbell shone as she touched herself, little circles just the way he knew she liked it. He kept his hands on the arm of his chair, white knuckles preventing him from unzipping his slacks and stroking himself. “I have something special planned for you tomorrow.”

“You…do?”

“Yes. Which means tonight’s plans are up for debate.” He hissed out a breath as she slid two fingers into herself, thrusting once, twice, a third time, and then going back to circle her clit. “And I’m inclined to take suggestions.”

…

Why did he keep asking?

Penelope closed her eyes, but she had the image of Will’s impenetrable blue gaze imprinted on the back of her lids. He’d always seen too much, and now he was asking it as well—just like he had ever since this thing started. It had been easy enough to tell him what she wanted when his body was pressed against hers and his hands were on her. Now, with their only connection the computer screen, it was significantly more difficult.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him. Last night had burst through more barriers than she could count, and waking up to Will’s note and coffee he’d made waiting for her… It left her feeling curiously raw. She’d been considering calling him all morning, needing to hear his voice, needing to have his arms around her to stop the world from spinning.

“Penelope.”

There was no reprimand in his tone, only a firm reminder of who was in charge. He’d asked her a question, and he expected an answer. Which was a problem, because she had two desires warring within her. She wanted him to guide her into finishing what they’d started, following the desire coursing through her to its natural completion.

On the other side? She inexplicably wanted a damn hug.

It was stupid. That wasn’t what they were, heart-to-heart chats or not. The sex was so good, she should just roll with it and not ask for more, because the asking opened herself up for rejection. After the things she’d shared with him, she didn’t know how gracefully she’d be able to handle him telling her that comfort wasn’t part of the arrangement.

She opened her eyes to find Will’s narrowed. “Sit down, pet.”

“Yes, Sir.” It came out as barely more than a whisper. She sank into the chair, her legs shaking with the denied orgasm and the impending emotional turmoil. Though she tried for a carefree smile, it died before it became reality.

Will leaned forward, studying her. Seconds passed, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just stripped her bare and seen everything she was trying so hard to hide. “Don’t move.”

“What?”

“That was a command, Penelope. Do. Not. Move.” Then he was gone, ending the call and leaving her staring at her desktop and wondering what had just happened. She pulled her dress down, trying to tell herself that it didn’t matter. Coming would have been nice, but her body was so deliciously used from last night that one more orgasm might actually kill her.

Liar.

She sipped her tea, doing her best not to notice the way her hand shook. What game was Will playing? Was he on his way over here, right now? Her pulse kicked up a notch at the thought, even as common sense tried to pipe up and point out that she had a meeting in less than an hour with a potential client. His showing up would take valuable time that she should use to prepare.

But, lord, how she wanted to see him.

The line between bet and something deeper had blurred, and she felt like she was up to her chin in quicksand and sinking fast. The more she struggled, the deeper she went. But when she stopped struggling, things didn’t magically rectify themselves. She dropped her head into her hands. “You’ve gone and gotten things good and messed up, sugar.”

She was so embroiled in her misery that she almost didn’t hear the door open. Feeling eyes on her, she lifted her head and blinked, as if that would make Will disappear. “I have a meeting.”

“Cancel it.” He shut the door softly behind him and locked it. He circled around her desk and lifted her into his arms without so much as a by your leave, and then sat in her chair with her in his lap. She considered protesting, but the delicious heat of his body was already working its way into hers, and his scent wrapped around her, more comforting than any blanket. With a sigh, she relaxed against him, burying her face in his chest.

This. This was exactly what she’d needed.

She could almost hate him for knowing that without her saying a word. Maybe she even would hate him later, but right now she took what he offered and didn’t question it.

A frisson of fear tried to ground itself inside her. A woman could get used to this kind of comfort. Hell, a woman could get used to everything Will Reaver brought to the table. With his arms around her, she didn’t care that she might be blowing her chance at securing an important client, and she didn’t care that her assistant Curtis was bound to start asking questions about the Norse god who kept showing up and locking himself in her office with her.

She didn’t care about anything but extending this moment indefinitely.

“You should have told me.” He stroked a hand down her spine and back up again.

There was no mistaking his meaning. He’d told her at the very beginning that he expected her to communicate her needs, no matter how difficult she found it to do so. Out of everything she’d done so far, it was the hardest thing he’d required, the one place where she seemed to constantly disappoint him. She fisted her hands in his shirt. “I didn’t know how.”

“And it took me entirely too long to realize something was wrong.” Another stroke. “It seems like we’re destined to continue to make missteps around each other.”

“I’ll try harder next time.” The words were out before she had a chance to rethink them.

Will cupped the back of her neck, drawing her up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. “We both will.” And, God help her, but her whole body warmed to know he was going to try to take better care of her.

This isn’t forever. There are only three days left. Then it’s over.

She didn’t want it to be over.

The realization that had been brewing since dinner last night stuck in her throat. She wanted more than three days with Will. But how was she supposed to say as much? He’d very clearly laid out the terms, and she’d accepted them. If she changed her mind now and demanded more than he’d ever offered? He’d dump her before the end of their agreement.

“What’s going on in that busy brain of yours?”

“Nothing.” The word came out too fast, a clear indication of her lie.

He waited. Her heart beat faster knowing that he was content to sit there until she told him the truth. She and the other Dominants played at this type of thing, but they had nothing on this man. No one had anything on this man. She shifted, realized she was fidgeting, and tried to stop. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Still, he stared. She looked away. “I really would prefer you leave it alone.”

“It’s causing you pain.”

Which meant he wasn’t going to let it go until he had his answer. She slumped back against his chest, wishing it were easier to speak this truth now that she couldn’t see his face. His hand kept up its steady motion, comforting her even as he pushed her past her comfort zone.

She could tell him now, or she could tell him later. The outcome would be the same regardless. Penelope shored up her courage, and then laughed at the thought. If she were truly courageous, she’d get to her feet and put some distance between them. She’d tell him to get out of her office and let her work. She’d do anything except pull her knees up so she was totally and completely surrounded by him. “I’m reluctant to end this.”

His hand stilled. “Say that again.”

Could her humiliation get any worse? Apparently the answer was yes. She gritted her teeth. “Seven days seems like a very short time.” A very short time, and yet endless.

“You want to keep our contract past the expiration date.”

Not a question, but an answer was demanded all the same. “Yes.” She braced herself, waiting for whatever reaction came her way.

His grip tightened, and she braced herself to be set aside, but Will only pulled her up until she was kissably close. “I’d like that as well.” Before she could process this turn of events, he kissed her—a deep, drowning kiss that swept away every single one of her fears and left only need in its wake.

Chapter Eleven

She wanted more.

The sheer elation making Will’s heart pick up was irrational and a little terrifying, but he would worry about the implications later. Just then he had his submissive in his arms, kissing him for all she was worth. His submissive, who’d just trusted him enough to put herself completely out on the line. He kissed her harder, using his grip on the back of her neck to tilt her head so he had better access to her mouth. She was so soft in his arms, so goddamn courageous.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had someone actually fight for him. One could argue that asking for more time wasn’t truly fighting, but combined with how fierce she’d become last night at the thought of him being hurt, and the comfort she’d so readily shared… Penelope was a gift. A gift he had no intention of squandering. He lifted his head enough to say, “I’ve left you wanting.”

“What—ah.” She opened her legs for him as he snaked a hand down and did exactly what he’d imagined while they were video chatting. He slipped beneath the fabric of her dress, finding her as hot and wet as he’d known she would be.

“Do you need something to hold you over until tonight, pet?” He worked her while he waited for her answer, enjoying the way she clenched around his fingers as he adjusted his angle.

Her breath came in harsh pants, her nipples pebbling beneath the thin fabric of her dress. Christ, she wasn’t wearing a bra again. This little submissive seemed custom created to drive him wild, and he had every intention of returning the favor. “You know what I want.” There was something so incredibly intoxicating about hearing her whisper filthy things she wanted from him and then providing them for her. For this woman, he wanted to go above and beyond and enact every single fantasy she’d ever had.

Which was why he had something special planned for tomorrow night.

“I want…” She spread her legs wider, wantonly rolling her hips to meet his fingers. “I want you to keep touching me.”

“You like this.” He circled her clit with his thumb, pushing a third finger into her. “You love knowing we’re in your office and anyone could hear us.” He nipped her earlobe. “Do you want me to fuck you in one of the themed rooms at Serve? Open the glass and take what’s mine where everyone can see?”

Mine.

Yes, that term fit so well it almost hurt. She was his. He’d said it before, but it felt different now. Meaningful. As if he’d admitted something he’d kept secret for longer than he could remember.

“Yes, Sir.”

He do it for her. That and so much more. “What else?” He gentled his touches, teasing her while he waited for her response.

“Fuck me, Sir. Bend me over my desk and fuck me.”

Christ. He closed his eyes, fighting for… Will wasn’t sure what. Something. This woman kept him on his toes at every turn, and the sheer delight he got from her was something he never expected. “Up.”

She scrambled to obey, taking the same position she had the other day, her forearms planted on the desk, her legs slightly spread. He sat back in the chair, enjoying the view and enjoying the way she twitched even more. “Close your eyes.” He didn’t need to see her face to know she’d obeyed—her body quivered the moment she did.

He pulled her dress up, careful not to actually touch her skin with his fingers, to bunch around her waist. Her dark skin gleamed in the bright office light, and he couldn’t resist nipping the curve of her ass. She jumped, her muscles flexing beneath his mouth. There was nothing he wanted more than to keep teasing her, but she’d made a request and he was more than inclined to grant it.

So he stood and undid his pants, shoving them down just far enough to free his cock. Thank Christ he’d thought to pocket a condom on his way out the door or he’d have had to get creative. He ripped it open, loving the way she shuddered at the sound. Will took his time rolling it on, making her wait, effectively reminding her who was in control—despite the fact that he’d never felt more out of control in his life. He barely tested to make sure she was ready before he shoved home. Her gasp was music to his ears, but any thought he’d had to taking this in controlled, measured strokes disappeared at the feel of her clenching around him.

He pulled almost all the way out and thrust into her again, using his hands on her hips to bring her back to meet him. The sound of flesh meeting flesh filled the office, punctuated by their sharp breathing. He was already close, too close. Will gripped the back of her neck and used his hold to bring her upright. She twisted around enough to kiss him, and the intimacy of their position floored him. He kept a hold of her neck and used his free hand to reach around and stroke her clit. She went wild around him, her orgasm making her entire body shake. No matter how hard he tried to hold on to his control, his body wasn’t listening. Pressure built in the small of his back, and he was helpless to do anything but thrust into her until he emptied himself.

He sank back into the chair, pulling her with him. Then he just held her, his mind perfectly blank, his body sated in a way it hadn’t been during even the best scenes before Penelope. It wasn’t enough. He already wanted her again, and their bodies hadn’t even cooled from the last time. The woman was a drug in his blood, drawing him closer even as part of him warned that he was far too close to the ledge already.

…

After Will left, Penelope’s day went to hell faster than she could say hullabaloo. She was late for her meeting, and then botched her presentation. From the looks the owners exchanged during the whole thing, they were surprised she could string two words together coherently. She knew their reputation going into this—they almost never hired women for consulting jobs—which was why she’d needed to be at one hundred percent.

Something that was impossible with her body still aching from what Will had done to her in her office.

She left the meeting with her tail tucked between her legs, knowing damn well that she wouldn’t be hearing from them again, then gotten back at the office only to have Curtis give her a grin that made her hair stand up. His gaze raked her in a way that had her wishing for a shower. “So does working here get me even better perks than the competition gets?”

There was no mistaking his meaning. Her stomach lurched, but she straightened her spine and looked down her nose at him. She’d never been anything but professional and courteous with this ass and this was how he repaid her?

Weren’t you worried about how this thing with Will would affect you professionally? Now you know, sugar.

She tried and failed to smother the voice. Right now there were bigger, scummier fish to fry. “Curtis Young, I sincerely hope you aren’t insinuating what I think you’re insinuating.” She marched to the hallway leading back to her office and turned. “You have ten minutes to get your things and get out of my sight. Do not expect a positive reference.”

She strode to her office, but not fast enough to avoid hearing his muttered, “Slut.”

Penelope locked her door behind her and leaned against it. He hadn’t been the best receptionist, but replacing him right now would take time and effort she didn’t have. She caught herself reaching for her phone to tell Will about the new development, and made herself drop it into the top drawer. As unfair as it was, his insistence at showing up in her office was part of the problem.

After promising herself that she wouldn’t let her personal life negatively affect Carson & Associates, she’d gone and done exactly that. What a mess.

With the loss of the Falcon account, she needed to buckle down more than ever. She had needed to secure the account she’d botched today.

Maybe asking Will to extend things past seven days had been a horrible mistake.

Before that thought could take root and truly terrify her, she powered down her computer and grabbed her phone out of the drawer. Addison answered right away. “Please tell me you’re not calling to cancel.”

“I’m not.” Though there was part of her that wanted to do just that and go home and hide under her covers. It was insane how one person could feel so wonderful and so terrible, all at the same time. But cancelling on Addison wouldn’t do anything except give her entirely too much time to think and freak herself out. She needed this break more than she ever could have guessed when she’d made these plans to begin with.

“Good! I feel horrible enough that I’ve barely seen you the last few months. I don’t think I could handle another set of cancelled plans.” Addison laughed.

This was exactly what Penelope needed—a little slice of normalcy in the middle of the whirlwind that her life had become. “I was actually going to see if you were free a little earlier. I was thinking we could get a few drinks before dinner.”

“That sounds like perfection. I’ve had one hell of a day.”

“You and me, both.” They made arrangements to meet at a bar down the street from where their dinner reservations were, and hung up. Penelope wasted no time in grabbing her purse and heading for the door. The front desk was empty, and Curtis had cleared off with a decent amount of Post-Its and pens if she had any guess. Ass. But at least she hadn’t had to face him again. It was cowardly to admit she didn’t have it in her for another confrontation, but that was the God’s honest truth.

Penelope locked up and went back to her apartment long enough to change into something more suitable, but she paused before getting dressed. She’d specifically been going without underwear because she knew it tested Will’s ironclad control. Tonight? Tonight she was going to go all out. He’d said to show up in nothing but her coat, but she’d seen how his eyes had lingered on her garters that first time. She dug through the drawer until she found what she was looking for.

If he was so busy focusing on what she had under her coat, maybe he wouldn’t notice how off she was when she got to his place. She could use some mind-blowing sex that came without the deep, soul-baring questions.

She cabbed it over to The Blue Moon, and found Addison waiting for her. The little redhead looked much the same as she had the first time they’d met—young and innocent, as long as you didn’t see the wicked gleam in her green eyes. She jumped to her feet. “I swear to God, Pen, at some point I really am going to follow through on my threat to steal your clothes.”

She laughed. “I missed you, too.”

“It’s been too long, and it’s all my fault.” Addison looped her arm through Penelope’s and tugged her through the door. The Blue Moon was small and intimate and trendy. Usually when she was actually able to stop by, it was standing room only, but they were still early enough tonight that they had no problem finding a table in the far corner. They ordered drinks and then sat back. Addison wasted no time getting down to business. “Clothing aside, you look different.”

“Thanks?” Different? She certainly felt different. It was more than the feeling of Will imprinted over her entire body. She simultaneously felt light as a feather and as heavy as an anvil. Every time she was with Will, nothing else seemed to matter—which was exactly the problem. Other things did matter. Her job mattered. Her professional persona mattered. Orgasms were great and all, but they wouldn’t keep the lights on if Carson & Associates became the laughing stock of business consultants.

Her father would never forgive her for running the business into the ground. She would never forgive herself.

“Seriously. You’re, like, glowing, but you look like you might throw up.” Addison frowned. “Actually, it’s kind of worrisome. You aren’t pregnant, are you?”

Penelope choked on her drink. “No.” Even the thought sent a cold chill through her that she couldn’t shake. “Definitely not.”

“I was joking.” Addison scooted closer, her green eyes worried. “I didn’t realize you were seeing someone.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to deny it, but if she didn’t talk about this with someone, she was going to explode. She would just keep their origin story, such as it was, to herself. “It’s recent.” When Addison wiggled in her seat like a puppy, Penelope hurried to add. “And not serious.” Even though it felt serious.

But she couldn’t give Addison any ideas. As New York’s premier matchmaker, she could be worse than a terrier when she had the scent of romance. She’d been trying to match Penelope up with her clients ever since they met.

“Deny all you want, I knew something was up. I just thought you were still riding high from getting that account last week.”

Another downer. “I didn’t actually get it.” And she’d botched her chance to slip in a replacement account without missing a beat. The company wasn’t exactly hurting in the financial department, but losing the Falcon had been a blow, a big one. Screwing up the meeting today and potentially burning a bridge to any more accounts with that company? That was even worse.

“What? I thought it was a sure thing.”

“I did, too.” But instead of the anger she should’ve felt at the admission, all she wanted was to curl up in a corner and rock until this all went away. It was weak and unforgivable and she stuffed the feeling down as deep as she could. She hadn’t gotten where she was in life by hiding when it came time to make hard decisions.

She just didn’t know what decision she’d make if push came to shove—and that scared the crap out of her. “I don’t know what happened. This guy… He’s taking away my edge. I need my edge.”

“Then let’s start with him. You can’t drop a bombshell like that and then just change the subject and pretend it never happened. We’re friends and you’ve been dodging my matchmaking efforts for years, which means I need all the dirty details.” She grinned. “Did you meet him at Serve?”

She’d initially been reluctant to tell her friend about the club, but Addison took it in stride even if she didn’t understand Penelope’s need to dominate. Really, she couldn’t have asked for a better friend. “Sort of. We’ve been aware of each other for awhile now.”

“Don’t make me have to pull each little piece of information out of you.”

She smiled. “He’s big and blond and is a total and complete control freak.” It was all too easy to picture Will, that icy look on his face melting to one of desire. “He wears a mask, but those moments when it slips are priceless. And it doesn’t hurt that he makes my knees weak and, well, let’s just say that I’m more than satisfied in the bedroom.” And office. And public playroom. She shivered at the thought.

“Wait a minute—you make him sound like he’s a Dom.”

“He is.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve never really said much about it because I’ve never gone to the other side of things, but I’m a switch. I lean Dominant, but I’ll submit to the right person.” Was Will really the right person? There was no question that he called to that part of her like a flame called a moth, but there were the other parts of her life to consider. “This guy…he’s really something.”

“I know that look. You’re smitten.” Addison shook her head. “I never thought I’d see the day when Penelope Carson would lose her head over a man, but I’ve never been so glad to be wrong.”

Something in her chest leaped at the thought, but instantly tried to curl in on itself. No matter whether it was seven days or twenty-seven, this thing with Will would have an expiration date. It had to—a fact that was becoming more and more clear with each passing hour. If she couldn’t put her company first, then what had to give was Will. “It’s just a temporary thing. It has to be.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself. You’re all starry eyed and bewildered like you just got hit by a train and don’t know which way is up. It’s the one I’ve been wearing since I met Caine, even if he drove me up the wall at first.”

She started to argue, but made herself stop. The more she protested, the more Addison would think she was right. Instead, she focused on the real problem. “It doesn’t matter if I like him or he makes my stomach tie up in knots or anything else. I completely dropped the ball in a meeting today in a way I never would have if he hadn’t shown up at my office and…” She cut off that real fast. “And then I had to fire Curtis because he thought Will showing up meant it was a free-for-all.”

Addison’s jaw dropped. “I knew he was unprofessional, but that’s extreme.”

Maybe. Or maybe she was inviting it by having insanely hot sex in her office on the other side of paper-thin walls from him. “If I keep this up, I’m going to tank a business that my family has spent three generations building.”

And that, more than anything else, was enough to scare her right down to the bone.

Chapter Twelve

Will checked the clock for the fifth time in five minutes and then cursed himself for looking again. Penelope hadn’t set a time that she’d be over, and he refused to intrude on her dinner with her friend by commanding her presence. No matter how much he wanted to.

That was the crux of the problem. He wanted to see her again, almost desperately, despite the fact that he’d been inside her less than twelve hours ago. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of—letting his desire for her cloud his mind and drown out everything else. There was too much on the line for him to be distracted now. Securing the Falcon account was a small victory, but it was only the beginning. He had to actually make the bar a success. He needed to be completely focused and in control to accomplish that

If he was smart, he’d text Penelope and tell her that he’d see her tomorrow. The plans he had in place for the evening were guaranteed to settle him, and that was the important thing. He picked up his phone, and frowned at the text message waiting for him. He must have forgotten to take it off silent after his last meeting with the contractor this evening. Another lapse.

He pulled the message up. On my way.

Nothing else. Will glanced at the time, and figured he had a moment to take a shower before she got there. He’d just pulled on his pants when the buzzer rang.

He allowed her up, and any plan to take his time went right out the window the second she walked through the door. Her hair was a wild mass around her shoulders, and she looked flushed and windblown and entirely distracting. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

Which was when he realized she was shaking.

He pulled back and searched her face, seeing a flicker of anxiety. “What’s wrong?”

“Not tonight.” She shook her head. “Please, Will. I don’t want to talk about it tonight.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to demand details, but she’d asked for a reprieve and that was something he could give her. They would talk about whatever was bothering her, though. So instead of pressing for more, he asked, “What do you need from me?”

“You. Only you.” She took a step back and unbuttoned her coat while he watched, shrugging it off in a smooth move that left her in a pair of black thigh highs, garters, and heels. And nothing else.

He closed the distance between them and kissed her again, tasting wine on her lips. She melted for him, and the feel of her breasts against his chest shorted out his higher functions even as she went for the front of his pants and shoved them off him. He needed to be inside her. Now. But he had to make sure he took care of her first. Will lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist.

Common sense had him walking to his bedroom instead of taking her right there against the wall. Condoms. They needed condoms. She slid against him, nothing between them. All it would have taken was one sharp thrust and he’d be inside her. She moaned. “I need you.”

Christ, he needed her, too. He didn’t say it, though, wanting to keep something back. Needing to. He kissed her again as he sat on the edge of the bed, blindly reaching for the top drawer. As she nipped her way along his jaw, he rolled the condom on. “Now, pet.”

She didn’t waste any time sinking onto him, her eyes sliding shut with something like bliss. He loved seeing that expression on her face and knowing he was the cause of it. And she’d come to him. Was it possible she felt as out of control as he currently did? He leaned back, giving her full access to his body. “Take what you need, Penelope. Fuck me. Ride my cock exactly how you want it.”

Her slow grin was a reward all of its own. “I think I can do that, Sir.” Her grin took on a wicked edge that had his heart leaping. “Find something to hang onto.”

She pushed him onto his back, and he let her, gripping her hips, but not to guide. The vision she created was more than worth it, her body rolling as she took him deeper, her breasts bouncing a little with each movement. He leaned up to taste her nipple, earning a moan from her.

He nipped her. “Do your worst.”

“Oh, I plan on it.”

…

Penelope lost herself in the sensation of Will inside her and the feeling of being on top, even if it was an illusion. This was exactly what she needed after today—to feel like she had control again. All the while, she could feel his gaze on her, touching her neck and breasts, trailing down her stomach to where their bodies connected. He didn’t touch her, though, not beyond his hands gripping her hips.

She rolled her hips, watching him through slitted eyes. His muscles contracted as he fought to keep still. When had Will ever been on his back during a scene? Or, more to the point, in general?

She’d bet the answer was never.

But he was, right now, for her. That meant something, whether either of them would admit it aloud or not. She leaned back, the change in angle making her breath catch in her throat. It felt good, too good. All she’d wanted when she walked through the door was an escape from her own thoughts. She’d seen the need to ask her questions all over his face, but instead of pushing her, he’d offered her exactly what she needed. And that kiss? God help her, but she was so close to coming, her body vibrated with it. She needed him with her every step of the way.

Penelope reached back and cupped his balls, never stopping her slow slide up and down his cock. He went rigid, cursing a blue streak. She saw the change in his eyes a second before he flipped her. She barely had time to process the change of position before he had her legs spread wide and her wrists above her head. “I thought I was on top.”

“I changed my mind.”

She sure as hell wasn’t complaining, not with the wild look in his eyes and his body moving over hers with barely restrained ferocity. As if he was marking his territory. The concept should be insulting, but she arched up and licked along his neck, driven to touch him back as much as he’d allow. “Let go of my hands.”

He paused, grinding his pelvis against her clit, drawing little whimpers from her even as she struggled against his hold. She bit the muscle where his shoulder connected to his neck, words pouring out of her, “Please, Sir. I need to touch you.”

For one long moment, she thought he’d ignore her and continue mercilessly driving her to orgasm. But Will cursed again and released her, slipping one arm beneath the small of her back and lifting her hips to take his cock unbelievably deep. It was not enough and too much, all at the same time. She clung to him as wave after wave crashed over her. “Will.”

He buried his face in her neck as he finished, holding her just as tightly as she held him. He pressed a kiss to her collarbone and rolled onto his back, taking her with him so she sprawled over his chest. They lay there as the seconds ticked by and their bodies cooled. She kept waiting for him to slip out from under her, to put some distance between them, but he only held her closer and pulled a sheet over them. “How was dinner with your friend?”

She went tense, but forced herself to relax. Don’t overthink yourself into a panic. There must be some way to find a balance between Will and the company. You’ll find it. You have to. But that wasn’t what he asked. She took a deep breath. She could talk about Addison until the cows came home. Addison was as safe a topic as she could have hoped for. “It was good. I don’t see Addison nearly as much as I used to.”

“Why not?”

He sounded genuinely interested, so she checked the flippant response on the tip of her tongue and answered honestly, “She moved on to the next stage of life and I didn’t. She met a guy, fell madly in love, and ended up with priorities beyond her matchmaking business. Now they’re talking marriage and children. Those aren’t even on my periphery.” Or they shouldn’t have been. Now she caught herself wondering all sorts of things she hadn’t allowed herself to consider up to this point. There was no time for those—no time to even want them. But this was just the last in a long list of things that had changed since she first offered up this bet with Will.

As usual, he skipped right past the easy and polite questions and went straight for the kill. “Do you want children?” He was so tense beneath her, it was like lying on a rock. Could he be any more obvious that he regretted the question?

She didn’t want to answer that. At all. But part of her was curious to see how he’d respond. “I don’t know. It’s never something I put a lot of thought into. My father never wanted kids, but my mother did, so they had me.” A mistake no matter which way she looked at it, or how much both her parents loved her in their own ways. Things had been good between them before they brought her into the world, at least to hear her mother tell of it. “It almost cost him Carson & Associates, and it did cost him his marriage.”

He lifted his head and tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. The rage she saw there made her heart skip a beat. “He told you that?”

Why was he angry? It was ancient history, over and done with. She shook her head, the feeling of his fingers gripping her chin sending a little thrill through her despite the topic of conversation. “He didn’t have to. It’s the truth.”

Will shook his head, his eyes icing over. “Bastard.”

“What?” She tried to push off his chest, but he wrapped an arm around her hips and kept her pinned. “Why would you say something like that? He’s my dad.”

“If he thought having children was a mistake, he never should have agreed to it. That’s a life he’s playing God with, an innocent he’s punishing for a decision he made.”

Dad hadn’t been the perfect parent, but there was no such thing as perfect. And he did love her. Her presence had just shone the light on flaws that already existed in his marriage, but that had nothing to do with him regretting she was alive. “Will—”

“Maybe it was better that she just left instead of sticking around to talk to me the way your father talks to you.”

She went still, realization hitting. This wasn’t about her father.

No, he was thinking of his mother.

She reached up, hesitant, and ran her fingers through his short blond hair. “Have you ever thought about looking her up?”

Instantly, his face closed. She hadn’t even been aware that it was open until he was, once again, Ice King. “Why would I?”

Once again, she had to fight the urge to threaten the selfish woman for walking away from her children. But this wasn’t about his mother. This was about him. “Because there are things you need to say,” she told him.

“No, there aren’t.”

It was like running headfirst into a brick wall. She pushed; he dug in his heels. “It’s not that you have to say these things to her, but you should say them. It’s not a good idea to keep stuff like that bottled up.” She’d know. Things with her mother had gotten so tense in high school that she’d stopped going down to Georgia for a full six months before her father corralled both of them into the same room and threatened to lock them inside until they talked to each other. It hadn’t magically solved their issues, but it had gotten the lines of communication back up and running. Mostly.

That wasn’t an option with Will, even if she knew the first thing about finding his mother. This wasn’t six months of angsty teen tantrums—it was ten years of abandonment. There was nothing the woman could say that would help the situation, and Penelope had every reason to think it might make things worse.

But that didn’t mean Will should keep all his feelings—those connected to his mother and otherwise—locked down. She searched his face and finally sighed. He wasn’t opening up tonight, and she’d be a fool to keep pushing. “Okay. But if you change your mind, I’m here for you.”

“I…” He frowned. “Thank you.”

She kissed him and then sat up. As wonderful as it would be to pretend that they could dance off into the future of being together indefinitely without some serious consequences on both sides, it obviously wasn’t the case. But that wasn’t something that would be solved tonight. Tonight was a reprieve.

She wasn’t ready for it to be over yet. “I need a shower. Join me?”

His expression thawed, fire replacing ice in the space of a heartbeat. “It would be my pleasure.”

Chapter Thirteen

Will had decided to pick Penelope up outside her apartment instead of meeting her at Serve. He’d already changed his mind half a dozen times today about whether to go through with the plans he’d made for tonight. The idea of sharing Penelope, even for a night, had his stomach in knots. That was ultimately the reason why he’d decided to go through with it. Things were changing too fast when it came to her. He needed at least one plan to remain in place.

In the past, whenever he’d contracted a submissive for a short-term engagement, he’d tired of her after a few days. It had been nearly a week and his craving for Penelope only seemed to grow with each hour. It couldn’t possibly last. Tonight would be proof of that. It had to be.

His phone rang as he climbed out of the cab, and he sighed when he saw who it was. “Hello, Sara.”

“You know, you never sound happy to hear from me when I call.”

Because he knew it was only a matter of time before she did or said something that would traumatize him. Again. “What can I do for you?”

“Right down to business? You’re not going to ask me how I’ve been or what I’ve been up to lately?”

“No.” When she was silent, he felt compelled to elaborate. “The last time you told me how things were going at work, our uncle and I almost came to blows over the fact that you were mugged while working. And I know if you were in some kind of trouble—again—you wouldn’t hesitate to call.” The threat of what he’d do if she didn’t call was best left unsaid. Namely, ship her out of the city to somewhere she couldn’t get into trouble. Though, with Sara, the places numbered in the single digits.

“I guess that’s a fair point.”

There was something off about her tone, and his every instinct went on high alert. “What’s going on?”

She laughed, but he’d never met someone who could lie with a smile on her face like his sister could. “Nothing. Lord, you’re worse than Garrett when it comes to being overprotective. I was just calling to remind you that we’re having a family dinner tomorrow and no excuses will be allowed for missing it.”

She was lying. He was almost certain of it. But experience told him if he pressed now, she’d end the call and then he’d have a hell of a time tracking her down. No, it was better to contact Garrett and then corner her as soon as they had a spare moment. “I wouldn’t dream of missing it.”

“Good.” She didn’t sound the least bit happy, which just confirmed that something was going on. He made a mental note to pull his twin aside tomorrow.

“I’ll see you at dinner, Sara.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He hung up and turned toward Penelope’s building. She stood just outside the doors, quietly waiting for him to finish his call. He crossed to her in two steps and kissed her, letting her know without words that he appreciated her patience. When he finally stepped back, both their breathing was a little harsh. “You look downright edible.”

It was the truth. Her hair was once again free of any confinement, and he could only begin to guess what she wore beneath the long coat. Her heels, though, teased him with altogether too many ideas. “I’m going to enjoy playing with you tonight.”

She smiled. “You don’t look too shabby yourself.” She nodded at the phone still in his hand. “Your sister?”

“The very one.” He pocketed it and used a hand at the small of her back to guide her to the curb. “She’s in some sort of trouble.”

Penelope shot him a look. “She told you that? If you need to cancel tonight—”

“Not in so many words, and no.” A cab shot down the block and pulled up next to them. He opened the door and then slid in after her. “Sara’s not the type to come running for help, even when she should. But I’ll get it out of her…” He paused, considering. The offer was out of his mouth before he could reconsider. “I’m having dinner with my family tomorrow night. Come with me?” It was tempting to phrase it as an order she couldn’t refuse, but this was completely outside the boundaries of something he was willing to compel.

She searched his face as if trying to determine what answer he’d like, which was a problem because he couldn’t begin to decide. Bringing a woman to their family dinner was asking for his meddlesome sister to take direct interest in his life—and she had nothing on his father and uncle. But he didn’t take back the offer. Hell, he didn’t want to take back the offer.

Finally Penelope nodded. “I’d like that.”

“I would, too.” And, to his surprise, he actually meant it.

They passed the rest of the cab ride in silence, with her cuddled up beneath his arm. It was comfortable and he felt no need to force the conversation, simply luxuriating in the feel of her against him. He couldn’t remember the last time he casually touched someone who wasn’t family—and even then he kept contact to a minimum. If anyone had pressed him about it, he’d claimed it wasn’t a need he had. But, like so much of his life before Penelope, that hard and fast rule bent until it was unrecognizable. He wanted to touch her, and the thought of being in the same room and not having his hands on her was damn near unbearable.

It worried him. Too much was changing too fast. Rationally he knew it was possible—even likely—that this would blow up in his face, but he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. He had well and truly passed the point of no return.

Which was the damn problem.

He paid the driver and they headed for Serve’s main entrance. If Penelope was concerned about what he had planned for her tonight, she didn’t show it. Instead, she turned those dark eyes, full of trust, on him, and his heart felt too big for his chest. Will pulled her into another kiss, unable to help himself. When he finally came up for air, he rested his forehead against hers.

This was the last chance he had to back out. She’d never know what he had planned, and Nolan wouldn’t blink at the change. The man was good like that. They could go back to Will’s place and he could spend the night driving her wild and losing himself in her.

The thought was far too tempting by half, and because it was, he said, “Are you ready for your surprise, pet?”

…

Penelope’s nerves went into overdrive during the elevator ride to the third floor. Will had taken a half step away, and it seemed the farther they got from the ground floor, the icier his expression became. She was watching closely enough to see the heat beneath the frost, but it still had her stomach doing somersaults. She shifted, trying not to huddle in her coat, and reminded herself that, with one exception, Will had never pushed her past her boundaries. It didn’t matter that she was growing increasingly off-center in her everyday life, because in this one part things were consistent. Tonight wouldn’t be the night Will threw her into the deep end.

At least she hoped not.

The doors opened and he stepped out without looking at her, obviously expecting her to follow. Her first instinct was to dig in her heels, but curiosity got the better of her. What did he have planned?

She held her breath as he bypassed the public playroom where several couples were already scening, and led her down the hall to the private rooms. The door at the end of the hallway seemed to be his destination, a suspicion confirmed when he used his key to unlock it and held it open for her. She barely made it three steps into the room when his voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Strip.”

That was simple enough—she’d done it for him a dozen times before. But as she unbuttoned her coat with shaking hands, the thrill that went through her was even stronger than the first time she’d obeyed this command, because she knew the night would bring pleasure beyond imagining. She shrugged the coat off, waiting for Will’s muffled curse or sharp breath or something in response to how little she was wearing.

He gave her nothing.

She started to turn to face him, but his voice whipped her. “The bed.” As she moved to the bed, her stomach’s flip-flops turned into full on skydives. His hand on her shoulder stopped her when she would have climbed onto the mattress. She froze, then a tiny part of her relaxed as he stroked that same hand down her spine.

A blindfold slipped over her eyes, blacking out the room as he tightened it. His voice rumbled in her ear. “Spread your legs, pet.”

She did as he commanded, tensing when he pulled them even further apart and snapped cuffs around her ankles. She tried to move, but something kept her legs apart. Her mind helpfully supplied the information—he’d put her in a spreader bar. While she was still figuring out how she felt about it, he lifted her arms over her head and strapped her wrists into what felt like an identical contraption, leaving her spread open and vulnerable in every way that counted.

No matter how much she mentally berated herself, she couldn’t help struggling, testing the bonds. It was no use. He’d fastened the bar connecting her wrists to something over her head, so she couldn’t even spin in place.

Will cupped her breasts, the unexpected contact making her flinch and sending her swaying. He pinched her nipples, just this side of pain. “I find your habit of skipping parts of your wardrobe as annoying as it is tantalizing.” His hand coasted down her stomach to snag her garter where it rested around her waist. He snapped the fabric and kept going, cupping her between her legs. “Knowing I can reach up your coat and find you wet and ready for me? It makes me hard every time we’re in the same room.” He parted her folds, one finger delving inside her. She twisted, trying to get him deeper, but he laughed and retreated.

Where was he now? She turned her head, trying to track his movements, but the thick carpet masked the sound of his steps. The door opened and closed, and she frowned. Had he just left her in here alone? Or was he standing just inside the door, watching her, waiting for her to react? The thought made her skin prickle, and it wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

He touched her again, and she couldn’t stifle a yelp of surprise. The man was quieter than a cat. “Pet, I have a surprise for you.”

That could either be something extremely good—or extremely bad. Half a dozen questions hovered on the tip of her tongue. She licked her lips. “Yes, Sir.”

“Hmm.” She could practically hear his approval as he cupped the back of her neck, his body pressing against the front of hers.

Then someone touched her from the other side. Penelope jerked, the move pushing her against Will’s chest, but the second set of hands didn’t move from her back, stroking down either side of her spine and stopping at the upper curve of her backside. “What—”

“I didn’t give you permission to speak.” Will’s voice was dangerously quiet, and she clamped her mouth shut. He waited a moment and, when she didn’t immediately jump in with more questions, his grip on her neck gentled. “A friend of mine has agreed to assist with our scene tonight. Do you understand? Say, ‘Yes, Sir.’”

“Yes, Sir.” It was barely more than a whisper. A friend? Who was it? She wanted to know—needed to know. Plenty of members of Serve participated in threesomes—and foursomes and more—but she’d never taken part. It was something she’d always been curious about, but she’d just never had the guts to go there.

“What is your safe word, pet?”

The reminder helped. A little. “Dracula.”

The man behind her snorted, but that little sound wasn’t anywhere near enough for her to determine his identity. Will let go of her neck, but he didn’t move back. “Do you want to use it?” Before when he’d asked that question, he’d made it sound like a formality—as if he already knew the answer—but this time he sounded genuinely curious. As if he wasn’t sure she wouldn’t safe out.

She actually considered it for a few seconds. This wasn’t pushing up to her boundaries—this was dancing right on the edge, ready to tip over at any moment. But…this was Will.

As if sensing her thoughts, his forehead rested against hers just like it had after he’d kissed her downstairs. “Your body is mine, pet. Mine. And I’ll do with it what I please—and that includes sharing it with who I see fit. Do you understand?”

Instead of scaring her, his words comforted her. It didn’t matter what this mystery man did to her, because he was an extension of Will’s control. This wasn’t another man’s hands on her, which felt a hundred different kinds of wrong, but her man’s. She took a shaking breath and nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Then we can begin.”

Chapter Fourteen

Will kissed Penelope to reward her for her trust, ignoring the pang that went through him. This would get them back on firmer ground. He glanced up and nodded over her shoulder at Nolan. They’d played enough before to be able to communicate without words, which was an important part of this scene. His submissive needed to trust him, to know that whoever he let touch her was an extension of his will, rather than just another man. And a perverse part of him didn’t want her to know it was Nolan.

He moved away, kneeling to open the chest at the end of the bed, watching Nolan out of the corner of his eye. The other man kissed his way down her spine. She was still tense, her mind working too hard. Well, he had a solution to put every single thought and worry right out of her head. He stood and crossed back to them. Neither he or Nolan had removed their pants yet, and he wanted to keep it that way for the time being. It was important to ease Penelope into this, until she was so desperate for whatever pleasure he’d give her that she had no time to fear.

The nipple clamps were pretty ones, with little crimson-jeweled weights hanging from them. He’d seen her put them to use before in other scenes with submissives, so he already knew the toy was well within her comfort range—no Dominant worth her salt used a toy on another person she hadn’t tried out first.

Nolan saw what he had in his hand and immediately began touching her breasts, alternating between circling her nipples and pinching them, until her breath hissed out and she arched against his touch. Will fastened the clamps carefully and pressed a kiss to first one nipple and then the other, wanting to banish the other man’s touch from her skin.

Now, it was truly time to begin.

While Nolan kept up his assault on her breasts, Will knelt and coasted his hands down her outer thighs. She instinctively tried to close her knees, but the spreader bar kept them wide. He watched her face, watched as it dawned on her that there was nothing she could do to stop them. Her lips parted, her breath coming faster. But there were no signs of actual distress and, when he drew a single finger across her pussy, he found her drenched. Good.

He licked her, his tongue following the path his finger had just taken, and the sweetest whimper escaped her lips. So he did it again. Her hips tried to meet his mouth, even as she moved the top of her body, arching into Nolan. His little submissive was beginning to enjoy the hell out of this.

Will sat back on his heels and pushed two fingers into her. From this vantage point, he could see that Nolan had claimed her mouth even as the man’s hands shifted downward, gripping her hips and pulling her back to grind on her ass. A third finger joined the other two, and her whimpers turned into full moans. “Sir, I—”

“Not yet, pet.” He could feel how close she was, her pussy tightening around him, but he wasn’t about to let her finish so quickly. He nodded at Nolan, and they both moved back, depriving her of their touch. She pushed forward and then back, another whimper slipping free.

Will rose and cupped her breast. Before she could react, he moved on. On the other side of her, Nolan was giving her the same treatment—a hand down her spine, around her thigh, feathered across her collarbone. They kept circling, until he was sure that she had no idea which man was where, and then Nolan went to his knees, taking the place Will had just occupied. The blatant appreciation on the man’s face gave rise to a wave of desire, combined with that blasted jealousy. A part of him wanted to tell Nolan to back the fuck off and keep his mouth to himself, but he was running this scene—the only saving grace that kept that ugly emotion in check.

It didn’t make a damn bit of sense. He’d played with Nolan and others countless times and never once felt this possessiveness that had part of him wanting to hit the man for daring to touch what was his. Hell, he’d invited and coordinated this entire thing. But then, a lot of things were different when it was Penelope involved and not one of his casual submissives. He’d been realizing that in waves, but this brought it home in an entirely new way.

He allowed Nolan to lick her pussy, noting how she quivered, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to arch against him or away. Will kissed the back of her neck, and the way she sighed instantly calmed the aggravated part of him. Blindfold or no, Penelope seemed to know who the hands on her belonged to. He pulled her hair to the side, kissing and nibbling his way up to her ear. “You please me greatly, pet.” More than words could describe.

“I’m…close.”

Feeling more centered or not, he couldn’t allow Nolan to be the sole provider of her orgasm. So he went to his knees behind her. The other man moved to her clit, his hands gripping her hips to keep her still. That left her pussy available to Will. He fingered her exactly how he knew she liked it, hooking his fingers to flick over that sensitive spot inside her. With his other hand, he palmed her ass. “Beg.”

“Please, Sir. Oh God, please let me come. I’ll…” She gasped out a breath, obviously inches away from coming whether she wanted to or not. “Please.”

He kissed the small of her back. “Come for me.” Only me.

Her pussy milked his fingers as she cried out, obeying him. They kept working her until she hung limply from the restraints. Nolan sat back, his shit-eating grin a clear indication of his approval. Will stood and began unfastening her wrists as the other man went to work on her ankles.

As soon as she was free, Penelope turned and wrapped her arms around him, holding him so tightly, it was as if she were trying to burrow into his chest. The contact was a balm to his soul, one he hadn’t even been aware he needed. He kissed her forehead and stepped back. “We’re not done with you yet, pet.”

…

Penelope was grateful that Will guided her to her knees because there was no way her shaking legs could hold her. And it was Will. She’d known the second he touched her, had no problems telling him from the other man. As she waited, head bowed, trying to regain her breath, his voice echoed through her mind. We’re not done with you yet. How could that single sentence serve to turn her on and set her stomach aflutter with nerves at the same time?

Hands on either side of her face pulled up the blindfold. She flinched at the light assaulting her sensitive eyes. Blinking a few times helped, and she focused on the chair directly across from her. Will sat in it, his big legs sprawled out, his cold blue eyes pinning her in place. That meant…

“Look at me, pet.”

She froze in the process of glancing over her shoulder. All she could see of the other man was his shadow on the floor. He was big, though not as big as Will, but she’d already known that. The temptation to complete the movement and see who’d had their hands and mouth all over her was almost too much to bear, but she managed to straighten and focus solely on Will. Barely.

He crooked a finger. “Crawl.”

Confusion had her pausing for a second too long, and his expression hardened. Penelope hurried to obey, her mind still whirling. Why would he ask this of her? He said he didn’t care about this kind of subservient gesture.

It took her half a second to realize why he’d given that command. The weighted clamps on her nipples swung with each move, the sensation both painful and erotic and entirely too much. She couldn’t hold back a whimper, but she kept moving. He watched her, his hands going to his slacks and slowly undoing them. The zipper was unnaturally loud in the quiet of the room, and the sound was mirrored behind her. She almost stopped moving, her thoughts tumbling over themselves. The man behind her was taking off his pants.

Since Will didn’t tell her to stop, she kept going until she had her hands on his thighs and his cock was within reach of her mouth. She licked her lips, eager to close the remaining distance, but knowing better than to make a move without his permission.

From the quirk of his lips, he knew what the restraint cost her. He cupped the back of her neck and guided his cock into her mouth with his other hand. She took him deep, running her tongue along the underside and up to circle the crown, her eyes sliding shut with pleasure. This was something she’d wanted to do for days, and being allowed to do so now… It was perfection.

She was so busy reveling in the way the muscles in Will’s thighs clenched with each down stroke, she forgot they weren’t alone in the room. Until calloused hands on her thighs spread them wide and a cock slid between her legs, rubbing against her pussy and clit, just shy of actually entering her.

Her eyes flew open, and she went still, torn between the desire to jerk away and the need to obey. Will watched her face, his expression unreadable. She tried to go back to sucking him, but the movement behind her was too much. Was he going to let this man fuck her? Was she going to let someone whose identity she didn’t know inside her?

He knew how torn she was. Of course he knew. Will drew her head up, his thumb smoothing along her bottom lip. “You pussy is mine, pet. If I want to bring in every Dom in Serve and let them have a try, that’s within my right.” He kept touching her, so gentle and almost loving, a direct counterpoint to the stranger rocking his cock against her clit. “And if I say that’s what I want, what is your response?”

No. But… She couldn’t say it. Because this was about trust, and she’d already decided to trust him. If he wanted to take things that far… He wouldn’t. She was very, very sure of that. What he was asking her for was her unrelenting trust right now, and she would give it.

She took a shuddering breath. “Yes, Sir.”

His eyes widened so slightly she was sure she imagined it. There was no other reaction, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had irrevocably changed. He slid the blindfold back in place, blacking out the world, taking the comfort of being able to see his face from her. The man behind her shifted, his cock notching at her entrance, and she held her breath, fighting against the need to protest. He’s an extension of Will. It might as well be Will behind me.

Then he moved away. She shook her head in confusion. What was happening?

Will pulled her up, turning her around and bringing her down onto his lap. He used his thighs to spread her legs wide. There was a crinkle of a condom wrapper, and then he lodged himself deep inside her. He guided her arms behind her, shackling them with one hand. “Open up, pet.”

She obeyed, jumping a little when another cock slid between her lips. She tasted herself on the stranger’s length, but she was so grateful to have this option rather than him fucking her, that she sucked him nearly as hard as she had Will. A second pair of hands laced into her hair, guiding her movements, slowly fucking her mouth as Will’s free hand palmed her between her legs and started circling her clit.

With her legs spread wide and her arms pinned behind her, she was helpless to do anything but take their cocks, though Will seemed content to play with her clit and hold her down while the stranger took her mouth.

His voice drifted from behind her. “If he comes before you do, I’ll reward you.”

Yes, please. She sucked the other man’s cock like her life depended on it, driven by the gathering pressure inside her. It would have been easier if she could use her hands, because being unable to move only made her orgasm loom closer. She set her teeth into his cock, just a little, and his hips jerked and he let loose a muffled curse. There. She sucked him deep until he hit the back of her throat, and then did it again. And again.

On the third time, his grip tightened on her hair. There was a pause, and she realized he was asking Will for permission, and then he started moving, pushing deep again and again, until all she could do was take it. Will squeezed her clit, dancing her right up to the edge, never letting up, his cock twitching inside her. If he’d thrust or moved at all, she would have been finished, but he kept still aside from the maddening circles his fingers traced over that sensitive bundle of nerves.

The other man’s thrusts shortened and he cursed one final time as he came. She swallowed him down, giving him a few hard sucks that she could have sworn made his knees buckle. With a hoarse chuckle, he pulled out of her mouth and then he kissed her forehead in almost the same place Will had earlier. It was a move of someone who cared, which would have been enough to make her wonder at his identity…

Except Will was already lifting her. He swept her into his arms and strode to the bed and set her on the edge. Almost immediately, his cock was at her lips. She sucked him in, her need smothering any finesse she’d had. The sound of the door shutting barely registered, but as soon as it locked, Will started talking.

“I hope you enjoyed that, pet.” He thrust deeper into her mouth, bumping the back of her throat and staying there, claiming her, removing any trace or memory of their third. His hands fisted her hair, holding her in place. “Because it is never happening again.” He pulled out of her mouth and pushed her back onto the bed. “This will sting.” He unfastened the nipple clamps, and she couldn’t hold back a breathless scream as the blood rushed back into the deprived flesh. But he was there, soothing the pain with his tongue, holding her so tightly it was like he thought she’d disappear if he paused for half a second.

Chapter Fifteen

Will couldn’t get the image of Penelope’s acceptance out of his head. When he’d threatened her with allowing access of every Dom in Serve, he’d been testing her. He’d seen the fear, the knee-jerk denial, and finally the trust. Knowing she would do that for him drove him out of his mind. He couldn’t stand the thought of any of them touching her, and he sure as hell hoped Nolan had enjoyed that blowjob, because he’d never be getting between Penelope’s lips again.

“It drove me insane seeing him licking your tight pussy.” He yanked her to the edge of the bed and went to his knees, claiming her with his mouth, driven by the need to mark his territory even though he’d given permission in the first place. “If you’d come before I gave you permission, I would have punished you. Your orgasms are mine, and mine alone. Do you understand?” He didn’t wait for a response, sucking her clit into his mouth so hard her piercing clinked against his teeth, and then tonguing her pussy, barely aware of her breathless shrieks because her hands were in his hair, her legs parting even more to give him better access. He moved back to her clit and her thighs tightened around his face, clenching him tightly as she came.

He wasn’t done. Hell, he wasn’t even close to done.

“Who do you belong to?” He stood, lifted her hips, and shoved into her. “Tell me, Penelope. Now.”

“You.” She reached for his hips, drawing him deeper even as her breasts bounced with each thrust.

“Say my name.” He needed to hear it on her lips, needed the confirmation, needed something to calm the frenzy that had blown through his control as if it didn’t exist.

“You.” She cried out, her back arching off the mattress. “I belong to you, Will.”

It wasn’t enough. He pushed her farther onto the bed, climbing onto it without withdrawing from her. He yanked off the blindfold and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly as he rocked against her, his mouth on her neck, sucking, marking her as his and his alone. She clung to him, both arms and legs wrapped around him, holding him damn near as tightly as he held her.

And still the words came. “No one else, pet. Never again.” His orgasm loomed closer, but he fought it off, needing for this never to end. “I am the last goddamn man who will be inside you, the last mouth that will taste that sweet pussy, and the only hands that will slide up your skirt. Do you fucking understand me?”

But she was too far gone to answer, her head thrown back, her pussy tightening around him until he couldn’t resist any longer. He buried his face in her neck as he came, driving into her, suddenly wishing there wasn’t a goddamn condom between them so he could fill her in every way possible.

Afterward, they lay there a long time, her hands stroking circular patterns on his back, their breathing nearly in time with one another. Sanity returned in waves, leaving Will reeling. He rolled onto his side and tucked her against him, unable to stand the thought of distance even as he thought back over what he’d said, what he’d thought.

She draped her leg over his hip and pressed a kiss to his chest. “I think you just ruined me for any other man.”

His heart skipped a beat even as his stomach fell. He twined one of her curls around his finger, searching for calm and coming up short. “Good.”

But was it? He’d been little better than an animal rutting and marking its territory. The comparison left him cold. There had been no room for control, for anything other than desperate need. He’d said he intended to be the last man to touch her, and he couldn’t take it back. The conviction settled deep within him, as certain as he knew the sun chased the moon across the sky.

Will closed his eyes. He wanted Penelope—wanted her permanently. But what would a life with her be like? A single week and he was nearly a stranger in his own skin, doing things he never thought he’d do. Would he even recognize himself a month from now? A year? Or would he wake up one day, hating the person he’d become, and do anything to get out of the trap he’d built around himself?

Was that what his mother had done?

He sat up, dislodging Penelope, and stared blindly at the wall. This realization was something he never wanted. His mother had been a selfish woman who put herself before her family and walked away from her children as if they were as disposable as old pairs of shoes. He did not want to sympathize with her, or understand her motivations, even in part.

And yet… Now he had to wonder.

“Will?”

He turned to look at Penelope where she lay on the bed, watching him with concern. She should be concerned. He was totally and completely out of control, and he wasn’t sure he had what was required to get things back where they needed to be—not while they were together.

He took a breath and made a conscious effort to push the worry away. It retreated reluctantly, hovering at the edges of his mind, ready to pounce the second he let down his guard. He’d have to deal with this—and soon—but tonight would solve nothing.

So he lay back down and smoothed her hair away from her face. “I’m fine.”

She obviously didn’t believe him, but she nodded. “Okay.”

He pulled her back into his arms, but his mind refused to settle the way it normally did when he held her. Instead, it continued to spin, offering him scenario after scenario, trying to find a way to keep his control and Penelope, too.

By the time they made it back to his apartment and he closed his eyes, he still hadn’t come up with a solution.

…

Penelope’s search for a new receptionist didn’t go well. Since she didn’t have a replacement set up via referral, she had to post the job opening to the various public forums. The crop that had shown up today to interview had been seriously lacking. Worse, this process was taking away from her ability to put her feelers out and start laying the groundwork to snag another account. It was a mess no matter which way she looked at it.

All she wanted was a glass of wine and someone to vent her frustrations to.

She caught herself typing Will’s number before she realized it. They hadn’t put a label on their relationship up to this point, but he’d been pretty clear last night that he didn’t intend to let her get away. She smiled, just a little. Even knowing he was the majority of the reason she’d been so distracted at work, she couldn’t deny how good he made her feel.

She finished dialing and pushed call before she could talk herself out of it. It went to voicemail, which was strange, but she mentally shrugged and left a message. “I’ve had a hellish day, sugar.” She stepped around two people arguing on the sidewalk. “I hope you’re bringing the wine to dinner, because I’m definitely in need of a glass—or three.” There was nothing else to say, so she fought back the urge to keep babbling and ended the call. He was most likely in a meeting or something.

She got to work on her emails, which she’d been neglecting all day. Unsurprisingly, there was no word about the meeting yesterday. She sighed. They weren’t even going to give her the courtesy of telling her that she didn’t get the job. Rude people were just part of the game—and they didn’t stop being rude when they contracted her, either. She’d gotten very good at managing a great variety of personality types without letting any of them get under her skin.

Until now.

She rubbed the back of her neck. A quick glance at the clock reminded her that most of the day was gone and she still hadn’t heard from Will. Combined with the way their last interaction had gone… There was something wrong. She carefully set her phone in her purse, reminding herself that she couldn’t expect to have him on call every second of every day. It didn’t matter that something had obviously been bothering him last night after the scene. They’d just talk about it like they had everything else up to this point. Simple.

But he had to pick up the phone first.

He’s most likely just busy. It didn’t matter how many times she thought it, it still didn’t comfort her, which was unbearably pathetic. Since when did her happiness revolve around whether a man got a hold of her or not? All she’d ever needed was Carson & Associates. That was what fulfilled her, and knowing she was taking the business in the right direction was what let her sleep at night.

Nothing made sense anymore.

She went home and showered, not sure if he’d reconsidered the invitation to his family dinner that night. It was yet another big step in a very short time, and frankly, it made her a little nervous. She hadn’t even had a chance to figure out how to balance Will with her work, and now they were throwing his family into the mix as well? It was only going to further complicate things. Maybe that was what had him worried. She certainly wouldn’t want him meeting her father so soon.

Penelope paused in the middle of drying her hair and tried to picture how that dinner would go. Would Dad be impressed with everything Will had accomplished in less than thirty years? Or would he see a distraction, one that was guaranteed to take her off her A-game and negatively affect Carson & Associates? She couldn’t even pretend he wasn’t a distraction, either. He most definitely was.

After things had fallen out the way they did with her parents, Dad had channeled all his extra time and effort into the company, pushing it into something that, if not a household name, could hold its own against the big dogs. He’d ruthlessly cut everything out of his life that could be considered a distraction, and she’d heard him mutter countless times how her mother had been nothing but a beautiful distraction.

She rubbed her arms, suddenly cold despite the steam drifting through the air in her bathroom. What if her father hated Will? She should have gone back into see John at the Falcon Bar and not pulled her punches. Following up with a potential client trying to go in a different direction was something she’d done regularly, and it had netted her success almost half the time. It was the first in a long line of mistakes she’d made in the last week, and it didn’t look like she’d be finding her feet anytime soon.

Her phone rang before she could follow that rational any further, and her stomach leaped when she saw it was the very man she’d been thinking so hard about. Was he calling to cancel? She tried to ignore the disappointment that rose and answered, “Penelope Carson.”

“I’m walking out my front door and catching a cab. I’ll be at your apartment in twenty minutes.”

She blinked. “Okay.”

“My family can be…tedious. So I only intend to stay there the minimum time required—dinner and a single drink afterward. Then you’ll make an excuse about a headache and we’ll leave.”

God, he sounded like he was planning a battle strategy instead of sharing a meal with his own flesh and blood. Worse than that, his tone was so distant, she could almost feel the ice creeping through the line, chilling her worse than her earlier worries had. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, as long as you remember your headache after dinner. I’ll see you shortly.”

She set down her phone and frowned at it. It was as if they’d gone a full week back in time and Will was once again behind the Ice King barrier that she’d been sure was gone. It was different when they scened together. She didn’t mind the mask as much then, because it was so much fun poking at him until it cracked. But now, when they were on their way to his family? It sat ill with her. There was no time to figure it out now, though. Even if he was planning on ending things, their agreement went on until tomorrow, so she was obligated to obey his orders.

Or that was what she told herself as she hurried to twist her hair back and put on makeup. She was in the process of zipping up her dress when the buzzer rang. She let loose a few choice curses, grabbed her purse, slipped on her shoes, and hurried down to the street.

Will faced away from her, his hands laced loosely behind his back. He still wore his preferred slacks and button up shirt, and it struck her that the only time she’d seen him any other way was when he was naked. The man didn’t seem to know how to lounge, and today obviously wouldn’t be the day he learned.

He glanced over his shoulder and took her in with one cool look. She stopped short. Something was definitely wrong. He kept a careful distance between them as if she carried the plague. It was official—he was most definitely not fine.

While she was still debating how to respond, or if she should even address it at all, he crossed the space between them in two strides and jerked her into his arms with enough force that she had to catch herself against his chest. He took her mouth viciously, lashing her with his tongue, his teeth raking her lip, punishing her for some mystery offense. When he took a step back, her knees buckled, but he caught her with a cursory hand on her elbow and guided her to a cab.

He still hadn’t said a word.

Chapter Sixteen

The entire ride to his father’s home, Will cursed himself for his lack of control. It was exactly as he’d feared. He’d been determined to put some distance between himself and Penelope today, proving that he didn’t need to be in near-constant contact with her. But every hour that passed was agony, and every time his phone rang, he couldn’t stop his disappointment when it wasn’t her. Just now, when picking her up, he couldn’t manage to be in her presence for more than thirty seconds before touching her.

Being in such a cramped space for the twenty minute drive only made things worse. He wanted nothing more than to pull her close and tuck her under his arm, to banish the uncertain look off her face. But right now, he needed his control back more than he needed to comfort her. More than that, he needed himself back. If he couldn’t manage that, they were through, no matter how much he wanted it to be otherwise.

So he didn’t touch her again during the ride, or when they climbed from the cab and headed up the brick walkway leading to the house he’d grown up in. Not for the first time, he wished his father had sold the damn thing instead of moving Uncle Rodger in and remodeling it. It didn’t matter if the rooms were different now or the kitchen almost unrecognizable. Will couldn’t help but see phantoms of his mother everywhere he turned.

And he hated himself for his weakness.

It was worse with Penelope at his side, a silent reminder of how everything could go sideways in the blink of an eye. She wasn’t doing anything except standing there, waiting for him to open the door and lead the way inside, but it was more than enough to undo him. She turned to him, opening her mouth to say… It didn’t matter what. He couldn’t talk about the ugly mix of emotions inside him—not now and perhaps not ever.

So he opened the door and called out a greeting that was answered by a handful of voices deeper inside. “This way.”

The clip of her heels on the wood floor followed him, the only sound she made. He knew he was being cold, knew it was confusing her, but he couldn’t stop. If he couldn’t retain the part of himself he most desperately needed when he was around her… The outcome was unthinkable.

In the kitchen, he found that the rest of his family had beaten them here. Sara rushed around the kitchen, pulling something that smelled delicious out of the oven, stirring a pot on the stove, and generally being a blonde, cooking whirlwind. She actually missed a step when Penelope stopped in the doorway, and her gaze flew to Will. He braced himself for the interrogation, but she spun on her heel and started sawing through the loaf of bread with significantly more force than necessary.

Knowing he wouldn’t escape when she finally decided to corner him, Will turned to the four people at the table—all wisely keeping away from Sara with her huge knife. His father looked like he’d aged another decade in the few months it had been since Will saw him, but there were laugh lines around his mouth, so maybe it wasn’t all bad news. With his longish sandy blond hair and weather worn face, Uncle Rodger looked more like a construction worker than the man who fixed other men’s problems, but he was the best in the city. And he was watching Sara with worry in his eyes. Will made a mental note to do some interrogating of his own—anything to get his mind off the woman standing slightly behind him.

Garrett looked up first, his face identical to Will’s—except for his hair, which he wore longer like their uncle—and the surprise that widened his eyes made Will wish he hadn’t invited Penelope. He could trust his father and uncle not to make things unbearable—at least until they had him alone—but his siblings had no such restrictions. The woman his twin currently had his arm around was Ridley, and their little slice of happiness brightened the room, which only served to shine a light on how miserable the rest of them were.

Garrett stood, keeping a hand on Ridley’s shoulder. “Penelope, was it?”

She laughed, the sound a little strained, and moved past Will to shake his twin’s hand. “Honestly, I’m surprised you remember. I think we only spoke for two minutes.”

“It was a memorable occasion.” He shot a glance at his fiancé, who blushed a fierce crimson.

Will realized he was being unbearably rude. He should have introduced Penelope the second they walked through the door. But it was too late now, because she moved around the room, smiling at his father and shaking his hand, and then repeating the introduction with his uncle. She stopped on the other side of the kitchen island, but Sara didn’t seem inclined to make it easy on her.

That finally got Will moving. He crossed to stand next to her. “Sara, this is Penelope.”

“Nice to meet you.” His sister still didn’t turn around, but the bread had taken on a smashed, misshapen look. “Why don’t you sit down? Dinner will be done in just a second.”

He moved to the massive table and held the chair out for Penelope and then took the seat next to her. It took a grand total of five seconds for his father to turn his attention onto Will. “It’s been awhile, son.”

It was a miracle the man managed to convey so much in four small words. But he refused to feel any guilt for staying away. If his father wanted to see him, he shouldn’t have threatened to set Will up with the neighbor girl. “I’ve been busy.”

“So have your sister and brother, but they manage to come around for a meal on a semi-regular basis.”

Garrett must have seen the writing on the wall because he cut in, “So, Penelope, what is it you do? I was slightly distracted when we met.” He ignored the elbow Ridley drove into his stomach and smiled. It didn’t take a genius to recognize that there had been something sexual going on between the two when the introductions were made all those months ago.

“I’m a business consultant with Carson & Associates.”

The urge rose to fill in the rest of the information—that she owned the company and that it had made leaps and bounds since her father retired and she took over. How she was one of the best in the business, and even before he’d shared her bed, he’d acknowledged that—at least to himself. Will sat back, clenching his jaw to keep the words in.

“A competitor to my twin, then.” Garrett grinned. “I hope you give him hell.”

“Sugar, you have no idea.” She shot him a look that promised hell later on, and he almost welcomed it.

He tried to shake off the melancholy mood dragging him down, but the way the conversation continued to flow, with Penelope fitting into the family dynamic like a long lost piece of the puzzle, only made it worse. Because it was only becoming more and more clear as time went on that the problem didn’t originate with her. Hell, the woman was as close to perfection as humanly possible.

No, the problem was him.

…

Penelope hadn’t been sure what to expect from Will’s family, but she was surprised to find she liked them. Oh, the sister had a set of claws and Garrett’s fiancé had been a little curt initially—understandably so, considering the only other time they’d met, Penelope had hit on Garrett—but overall, dinner had gone amazingly well.

As long as she ignored the fact that there was something seriously wrong with Will. He barely spoke, never touched her, and seemed to wish he were anywhere in the world but at this table. It couldn’t be more obvious that he regretted inviting her in the first place, but she couldn’t begin to guess why.

When dinner was cleaned up and drinks were served, the little sister turned that sharp blue gaze—so similar to her brothers’—on Penelope. She barely bad time to brace for trouble when the question came. “So, what happens if you end up married? Are you going to combine companies?”

She choked on her wine. Marriage? Combining companies?

Their father sounded quietly furious. “Sara Marie Reaver, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you today, but that was bullshit and you know it. Apologize.”

“It was a perfectly legitimate question,” said Sara. “If it’s serious enough to bring her to dinner—something Will has never done—then it’s serious.”

His sister obviously shared Will’s contrary nature. Penelope glanced around the room, taking in the tensions that showed no sign of dissipating anytime soon. Nothing good would come of staying. Penelope pushed to her feet and coughed again. “Will, I have a headache.”

He looked pathetically grateful for the escape. “As delightful as this has been, we’re leaving.” He nodded at his uncle and then strode to the door, leaving her to follow like a well-trained pet. She gritted her teeth, trailing after only because the only other option was staying there with the rest of the Reavers.

She picked up her pace as Will hit the street and turned right. There weren’t any cabs in sight, and since they were in the suburbs, they weren’t likely to find one for miles. But he obviously hadn’t thought about that when he’d walked out the door, because he was too busy throwing a temper tantrum. It was a huge lapse for a Dom. She stopped walking. “I’ll never dissolve Carson & Associates, Will.”

“No one’s asking you to.” He didn’t stop walking, but his quiet voice carried in the silence of the night.

Weren’t they? Because Sara’s question, inappropriate as it was, had shone a light on something lurking in the back of Penelope’s mind ever since she realized she was in danger of losing her heart to this man. What kind of future could they have as competitors? The logical solution was exactly what his sister suggested.

It made her sick to even think about.

She took two quick steps and put herself in his path. “Enough, Will. We can’t talk about this rationally until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong.” He stepped off the sidewalk and went around her, never breaking his stride.

“What happened to there being honesty between us? Because you’re lying through your teeth right now.” His refusal to talk only spiked her fear higher. She should have pushed him last night, the second she knew something was off, instead of letting him stew all day. She’d been under the impression that if something was truly wrong, he’d come to her and they’d talk it out.

Apparently she’d been wrong.

He finally stopped charging ahead and actually looked at her. “I was demanding honesty of you.”

What? She rocked back on her heels. “That’s crap and you know it.”

“It’s the truth.”

And now he was throwing her own words back at her. How quickly they’d fallen from that near-perfect communication of the last few days. He’d demanded she bare her soul time and time again, and she’d done it. Now, he had something that needed to be addressed and suddenly he couldn’t return the favor? Inexcusable. “No, it’s not. It’s called cowardice, which is a word I never thought would be applied to you.”

“It’s not cowardly to keep parts of myself private.”

“It is when you’re demanding total and complete transparency from the person you’re dating.”

His went still, and for a second she was sure she saw naked longing on his face. But the expression was gone in an instant, replaced by his Ice King mask. His brows rose, and his mouth went tight. She had half a second to realize what was coming before he cut her off at the knees. “We’re not dating, Penelope.”

She saw what he was doing, plain as day, because it was exactly what she was fighting not to do. Retreat. Say something unforgivable to save herself from having to make the hard decisions that a relationship with him might mean. “I’m scared, too. We’d have to be stupid not to be.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She gritted her teeth. “Fine. We’re not dating. So what do you call fucking me and growling that you’ll be the last man who touches me?” When he didn’t immediately respond, she crossed her arms over her chest, determined to break through his barriers. “Surely you weren’t suggesting I join a nunnery when you’d decided to wash your hands of me?”

Not even a flicker. “Don’t be dense.”

“I’m not the one being dense in this conversation. You can’t have it both ways, Will.” Still there was no expression on his face, as if they were discussing whether to have coffee or tea. She wanted to smash through that mask, to make his heart feel like hers—as if it were being crushed into a million pieces. “Either we’re just fucking, or you have to actually tell the truth and admit that you feel something for me beyond lust.” Please admit that you feel something beyond lust, that I wasn’t the only one falling head over heels in this thing.

Again, that hesitation, the flicker of something more, that was immediately quashed. “It’s not my fault you couldn’t control your emotions. That burden falls on you and you alone.”

Just like that, it all clicked into place. The real thing he was scared of. It wasn’t the uncertainty the future brought. It was something else entirely. “That’s not the truth, either, is it? You lost your precious control and that has you terrified.” She stepped closer, putting her hand on his forearm. “You don’t have to be scared, Will. I mean, it’s terrifying falling—”

He laughed, the sound cutting through the night air like a blade. “In love? Please tell me you weren’t going to suggest that I would fall in love with you.”

That’s exactly what she was suggesting and he damn well knew it. “Aren’t you?”

Another laugh. “Don’t make this more than what it was—seven days of good sex and power games. Seven days that happen to be at their end tonight.”

He was really going to do it. He was ending things.

Penelope took a careful step back even though all she wanted was to feel his arms around her, shielding her from this pain. The thought almost made her laugh. The thing she wanted most to shield herself from was Will. She took another step back, her heart crying out with the loss. “I suppose I should thank you.”

“For what?” For a second, he sounded like the Will she knew and had fallen for, but when she searched his face, she found nothing warm.

So she retreated behind a mask of her own. She shivered in her coat, laying on the southern accent as thick and sweet as apple pie. “Well, sugar, you were a distraction I couldn’t afford. I was off my game when I was with you.” Her throat tried to close, but she spoke past it. “With you gone, I won’t miss a step again.”

“See that you don’t, Penelope.” He kept walking, and this time she didn’t follow.

But she couldn’t stop herself from delivering one last brutal parting shot. “It’s cowardice to walk away from something when you should fight. Apparently you’re more like your mother than either of us could have dreamed.”

She thought that might be enough to get him to stop. She was wrong. Instead she watched his figure grow smaller before he finally turned a corner and disappeared. Only then did she sink onto the curb and drop her head into her hands. She should have known this was going to happen, but she’d been so caught up in how good it felt to be around him that she hadn’t paid attention to the red flags that kept shooting up with every conversation they had. She’d been willing to let things fall through the cracks of her professional life because he’d made her feel so good in and out of the bedroom. She should have known better. Hadn’t her parents taught her that love didn’t do anything but drag down a person?

She was a fool, because only a fool would cry over a man who was too idiotic to realize what he had.

She fumbled for her phone, intending to call a cab, but that wasn’t the number she dialed. Instead, it was her father who answered. “Pen?”

“Dad…” She had to pause to get her tone closer to normal, and even then it was a pathetic imitation. “Dad, I need you.”

Chapter Seventeen

Will brought the sledgehammer down on the wall, shattering the wood with a satisfying crunch. He wiped the sweat from his brow and hefted the hammer again, ready to take out the next section. He’d been there long enough that his arms had begun to take on the taffy-like feeling of well-used muscles, but it still wasn’t enough. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the betrayal on Penelope’s face, heard her offering him an easy out, offering one more chance to back away from the ledge he seemed determined to throw himself off of.

“I didn’t know manual labor was part of the contract.”

He swore and turned around, glaring at Garrett. The surprise on his twin’s face would have been comical under any other circumstances. Now, it was just annoying. “What do you want?”

“You haven’t been returning my phone calls.”

“Then you should have taken a hint.” He swung the sledgehammer again, breaking another hole in the drywall. “I needed some time to think.”

“To think about what a jackass you’re being?” When he glared, Garrett raised his hands. “We’re brothers—that means sometimes I have to shove your face into hard truths. Ridley and I saw Penelope getting into a car that wasn’t yours the other night, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out you’ve gone and fucked things up.”

“Who says breaking things off with her is fucking things up? She’s an emotional mess.” The words felt like a lie—because they were. Penelope wasn’t perfect, but the only emotional mess in their relationship was him.

“I saw the way you looked at her.”

“Then you obviously need to get a new eye prescription, because I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“How long has it been since you’ve seen her?”

Will turned away before his twin could see the truth on his face. Five days, twenty-one hours, and some-odd minutes. She hadn’t called—not that he expected her to—but a small box had shown up at his business today with the garters she’d worn last week. They occupied such a small space physically, but the emotional blow had been enough to leave a gaping wound in his chest. But then, Penelope had never pulled her punches where he was concerned. Her message couldn’t be clearer—she wanted nothing to do with him, and no reminders of the week they’d spent together. It was almost as if it had never happened. Exactly what he wanted.

Except it had happened.

That was the problem. They could remove all physical traces of each other—and, believe him, he’d washed his sheets half a dozen times, only to be convinced that he could still smell her perfume—but they couldn’t erase the memories of their time together. Or at least he wasn’t able to. Perhaps she’d been more successful on that front.

“Yeah, I thought so.”

He faced his brother, having almost forgotten he was there. “What?”

“In the last ten years, do you know how many women I’ve seen affect you at all, let alone on this level?” Garrett kept going before he could form an answer. “None. Not a single one. Until her.”

“It doesn’t mean anything.” Another lie.

“Tell me what happened.”

Will glared. “That dominance tone may work on Ridley, but it won’t work on me.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you so afraid of?”

Words crowded his throat, all the words he’d battled down time and time again, all demanding to be voiced. He tried to silence them—tried and failed. “I don’t recognize myself when I’m with her.”

Garrett frowned. “And?”

“What do you mean, ‘and?’ Isn’t that enough? It took her all of seven days to make me a stranger in my own skin. I can’t allow that to happen.”

“Did you hate the person you’d become?”

He opened his mouth to confirm that he had, but nothing came out. He’d been out of control, possessive and driven and…not himself. “I don’t know.”

“Love changes you.”

“You can’t fall in love in a week. That’s impossible.” There had to be some other explanation for the ripping, clawing sensation in his chest.

“I fell in love inside of five minutes, so a week seems like more than enough time.” Garrett shrugged. “But you know that.”

“That’s different.” Garrett was different.

“Not really.”

Again, he began speaking despite his best efforts. “Yes, it is. Things are different with you and Ridley. She makes you happy and you become a better person with her. You don’t lose control.”

He laughed. “Where did you get that idea?”

Will finally set the sledgehammer aside and dropped onto one of the chairs he’d shoved out of the way when he showed up this evening. “You don’t.”

“Yes, I do. Ridley makes me crazy in the best way possible—and in the worst way possible. That’s the nature of the beast. “ He paused, as if debating if he should continue. “That shit with our mom fucked us up—all of us. We go out of our way not to talk about it, but it’s the damn truth. She broke our family when she left, and we’ve never really recovered.” He held up a hand. “I know you don’t want to get into it. But you tracked me down after that shit went south with Ridley, and you told me something that changed everything.”

“I lied.” He said it so quietly, he could almost convince himself that Garrett wouldn’t hear.

But of course his brother did. “What?”

“I told you that I had asked Dad if he regretted ever meeting mom, and that he said the good memories were worth the bad. I lied. We never had that conversation.”

Garrett stared. “You son of a bitch.”

“That goes without saying.”

But instead of yelling or whatever else Will expected, his twin just shook his head. “You’re determined enough to sentence yourself to a lifetime of misery because of fear—I know because I was there six months ago. And I’ve never once regretted taking that leap of faith.” He pushed to his feet and scrubbed a hand over his face. “You say you lied. Well, I’ll ask you this—what if you didn’t?” Then he turned and walked away.

Will stared after him for a long time, his mind whirling in circle after circle. He had lied. He’d seen his brother about to make a mistake that would make him unhappy for the rest of his life, and he hadn’t been able to sit by and let it happen.

Was he doing the same thing with Penelope?

It was far too tempting to believe the fairytale Garrett presented. He might not regret choosing Ridley, but their relationship hadn’t been a perfect happily-ever-after. They still fought from time to time, and his twin hadn’t quit his mercenary work, so there were still the painful absences.

But Garrett made it sound like it was all worth it. Easy enough for him to say. He’d been in love with Ridley since they were teenagers. There was no one else in the world for him but that woman.

Despite his best intentions, Will’s mind skirted to Penelope yet again. He’d hardly been a saint for his adult life, but no one had affected him on the level she did. Hell, he’d tried to go back to Serve two days ago, needing an escape from the memories plaguing him, and he hadn’t been able to make it through the elevator doors. It was more than not being able to stand the thought of touching another woman—he didn’t think he could control himself if he saw Penelope there with someone else, even if she was Domme to their submissive.

They were no longer an item, and he hadn’t regained an ounce of the control he’d lost during that week. On the contrary, it was as if the loss had been building for the last ten years. Penelope had been the crack in the dam, but she wasn’t the cause of the continued fracturing. He clenched his hands, itching for the sledgehammer, but the manual work wouldn’t do a single thing to alleviate his problem.

He wanted her. He…loved her, no matter how impossible it seemed for such a thing to happen in so short of a time. Will stood up and crossed to the holes in the wall. He didn’t see how things could work between them, but the thought of her with someone else was enough to make him go out of his mind. She was his.

He sank to the floor and leaned against the wall. That was the crux of the matter. He recognized Penelope as his, but he’d done a horrendous job of keeping her safe and meeting her needs. At every turn, he’d pushed her too far or put her in questionable situations with the goal of making him feel better. Plus, even if what she’d said that night was true—and there was no reason it wouldn’t be—he’d also missed that her work was suffering, something he should have been aware of and helping her with.

It was inexcusable.

He was inexcusable.

Will closed his eyes. This was the defining moment. He could choose to do whatever it took to make things right between them, or he could let her go forever.

He was moving before he finished the thought. No. He fucking refused to let her go. If she chose to reject him, that was only what he deserved, but he’d do whatever it took to make her pause long enough to really think about it.

Flowers or chocolates wouldn’t be near enough to do that. No, it was time for desperate measures.

He walked onto the street and locked the door behind him. Will turned in time to see Garrett leaning against the wall, waiting. “How did you know?”

His twin shrugged. “You might be stubborn to the point of idiocy, but you’re not a fool. You love that woman.” He pushed off the wall. “So, how are you going to get her back?”

…

Five days. Five days of languishing in misery because a man had broken her heart. Enough was enough. Penelope finished work Friday, her determination to not let Will affect her professionally the only thing that kept her coming into the office this week. As it was, Dad had made threatening comments about finding the man who left her on the side of the road and teaching him a thing or two. She’d drawn the line at him offering to come out of retirement to temporarily help her out around the office. Her personal life might be in shambles, but she wasn’t about to let it affect Carson & Associates any more than it already had. That much, she could fix.

It didn’t seem like she could fix much else.

This week, it had become increasingly clear that she’d made a misstep with Will—several, in fact. She was the one who’d pushed and pushed, pressing against his boundaries as much as he’d pressed against hers. It didn’t excuse him acting like he had the other night, but she should have recognized the signs of distress and given him some space instead of crowding him further. Maybe it wouldn’t have changed anything.

But maybe it would have.

She’d just been so scared and off-center and…

It was too late to worry about it now, though. He’d as much as said that he didn’t want anything to do with her, and she knew him well enough to know that chasing him down would only make him dig his heels in further.

So she was stuck. Because she loved that stubborn, inexcusable idiot, Will Reaver. He’d pushed her, infuriated her, and ultimately made her feel things she never had before. She’d joked about him ruining her for other men, but it was becoming all too clear that that was exactly what he’d done. After being in his arms, no other would do.

Which was a problem in so many ways.

Because Carson & Associates had suffered when she was with him. Looking back, that was as much her fault as his, though. She should have told him the midday sessions were throwing her off. If all their interactions up to the end were a good indication, he would have listened and adjusted accordingly.

It was a moot point now.

She left her office, heading for the exit, then almost stumbled over her own feet when she saw the huge blond man sitting in the waiting room. It took her two heartbeats to realize it wasn’t Will, and the burning in her throat was nearly enough to have her fleeing back to the safety of her office.

But she was stronger than that. She wasn’t about to show weakness to the man’s twin and risk him hearing how broken up she was over this turn of events. So Penelope forced a professional smile. “Garrett.”

“Penelope.” He pushed to his feet, his face and body familiar, and yet not, at the same time. It was disconcerting, to say the least. “I’d like you to come with me.”

She’d been sure that he was there to return something she’d forgotten at his father’s house, but apparently that wasn’t it. Her stomach erupted in a horde of butterflies. If he wasn’t here for that, it meant he was here because of Will. “I’m sorry, what?”

He had the grace to look uncomfortable. “My brother would like to see you.”

God, how she wanted to shake him to get some answers. If Will sent him, then maybe he’d reconsidered, an outcome she was terrified to hope for. But he hadn’t come himself. She straightened. “If he wants to see me, he knows where to find me.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.” Garrett then focused on her. If she’d had any doubts about the twins sharing BDSM tastes, they died at that look in his eyes. There was no sexual desire, but the power there made it a struggle not to go to her knees. He narrowed his eyes. “Tell me your safe word.”

“Dracula.” It was out before she could think better of it.

He nodded as if to himself, and that was the only warning she got. Garrett crossed the distance between them in a single step and grabbed her, tossing her over his shoulder as if she weighed no more than a backpack. Penelope shrieked and beat his back, but she might as well have been beating a brick wall. He moved quickly, hurrying down the stairs and shoving her into the back of a town car.

She lunged for the doors, but the locks engaged. She spun in time to see Garrett drop into the car. The woman in the driver’s seat threw the car into gear and peeled away from the curve, throwing Penelope back. She was still trying to recover when the two started talking.

The woman—Ridley—said, “I hate to say it, but this kidnapping thing is kind of turning me on.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for the future.” Garrett laughed, not even the least bit out of breath and apparently even less worried that what he’d done was illegal.

Except I didn’t use my safe word. She gave herself a mental shake. That safe word was an agreement between her and Will—not his twin and future sister-in-law. “Let me out!”

Garrett turned to look at her. “Your Dom requires your presence.”

The words sent a spike of hope through her, but she did her best to kill it. If Will was planning to apologize, kidnapping her wasn’t a good way to go about it. “He’s not my Dom anymore.”

“Take that up with him.”

She slumped back into the seat and crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, I plan to.”

Chapter Eighteen

Will paced the second floor of Serve, checking his watch yet again. What was taking Garrett so long? He should have been there fifteen minutes ago, or at the very least called to update Will on the situation. Instead, Will was left wondering what the hell was going on.

It was enough to make him worry he’d made a terrible mistake. Perhaps he should have gone with a more traditional route of asking forgiveness. But there had been little about his and Penelope’s relationship that was traditional, and it didn’t feel right. He needed her to know how important she was to him, and how much he was willing to try in order to make things work with her.

A Hallmark card simply wouldn’t cut it.

A shriek sounded as the elevator doors opened, and he turned in time to see Garrett exit with Penelope over one shoulder, Ridley trotting behind him with a grin on her face.

He glared. “What did you do?”

“She wasn’t inclined to see you.” Garrett slipped her off his shoulder, taking care that she didn’t fall when her feet hit the floor.

She shoved him away and spun to face Will. “What in God’s name is wrong with you?”

“I—”

“Did you suddenly forget how to use a phone?” She made a show of raking him from head to toe with her gaze. “Your legs seem to be in good working order, so it’s not injury keeping you from coming to me yourself.”

“Pen—”

But she wasn’t through. “I am not a dog that you can kick and then summon back to your side. You left me. You chose to change your mind about continuing after the seven days were up. You were the one who couldn’t be concerned with lowly emotions like the rest of us.”

Enough. “Penelope.” He infused enough dominance into his voice to make her pause. Not for long, either, if her deep inhale was any indication. He had to talk fast or she’d get going again. “You’re right.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re right. Everything you’ve said is correct. I’ve been an unforgivable ass.” He took a breath. “But I love you, so I have to ask for your forgiveness. I need your forgiveness.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Five days ago you didn’t love me.”

“Yes, I did. But I was being the coward you accused me of, and lied about it.” He went down on one knee and then the other. “So I’m prepared to pay penance.”

“Penance?”

“Do what you need to do in order to balance the scales between us.” Her eyes went wide as understanding dawned. Did she understand how difficult it was for him to be here, on his knees for her, in front of everyone? She must. If anyone could understand, it was this woman. “I’d do that and more for a chance to start fresh with you.”

She finally seemed to register where they were. She looked around the room, her eyes going even wider. “You’re going to submit. To me.”

“Yes.”

“What about your precious control?”

He looked up into her dark eyes, trying to see something—anything—to indicate her state of mind. For the first time, though, her thoughts were closed to him. “If I have to chose between control and you, I choose you.”

She was silent so long, his knees started to ache from kneeling on the hard floor. Finally, she said, “What are your hard limits?”

He hesitated. As tempting as it was to say she could do anything she wanted to him—as much as he found he needed that—she had to understand that he was taking this with the utmost seriousness. Which meant hard limits. “Anal and group play.”

“Anything else?” When he shook his head, she nodded. “And your safe word?”

“Falcon.”

“Fine. Follow me.”

Confused, it took him a few extra seconds to climb to his feet and trail after her. She strode to the private rooms, picking the same one that they had used less than a week ago with Nolan. The memory burned him like acid, but he didn’t hesitate to follow her inside and wait while she shut the door and turned to consider him. His confusion must have still been plain on his face, because she frowned. “This is between us, Will. I’m not going to humiliate you in front of everyone.” She circled him. “If you’re submitting during this scene—”

“Not just this scene.”

She stopped short. “What?”

“I’m not fool enough to think that a single scene can make things right between us. I’m giving you the same amount of time you gave me—seven days.”

…

If Penelope had any doubts about Will’s seriousness—and the kidnapping would have banished most of them—the time limit he put on this was enough to convince her. The man was a control freak of the highest order and he breathed dominance right along with his oxygen. For him to offer to submit to her for seven full days?

Yes, he was deadly serious.

It made her want to cry and jump for joy, all at the same time. This was a gift, and she wasn’t going to lessen it by saying it was something she’d never wanted. Instead she said, “Strip.”

He obeyed, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off with a detached efficiency that made things low in her stomach pulse. His pants followed, and then there was only him in all his glorious nakedness. She wanted to go to her knees and take him in her mouth until he lost his patience and threw her on the bed to have his wicked way with her.

But that wasn’t what tonight was about.

“The St. Andrew’s cross.”

He moved to it, with her a few steps behind, and positioned himself against it, his legs and arms spread. The sight made her mouth go dry. God, she wanted him with a desire that was beyond anything she’d ever felt before. “I’m not going to tie you. If your hands drop, you will be punished.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

She dug through the chest until she came up with a flogger. It would do for now—because Will wasn’t a masochist and he wasn’t a sub. He was there for penance. It was her duty to give it to him so that they could truly start fresh. She had no intention of taking him up on a full seven days, but she could give him tonight.

She began warming him up, keeping her strikes along his shoulders and ass, notching up the intensity until her shoulder and arm ached with the effort. She went until she could barely lift her arm, until his skin had acquired the deep red welts that she craved seeing, and his muscles shook from the effort to hold still. Only then did she drop the flogger and step back. “On the bed—on your back.”

He stumbled a little but he caught himself before actually falling. Will winced as his welted back met the sheets, but this too was a kind of purging. It felt strange to be back in the driver’s seat, especially with him, but natural at the same time. “Don’t move.”

Her slow undressing was made more than worth it by the desire and agony on his face at not being able to command her nearer. And then she was as naked as he was. She found a condom in the chest and took great pleasure in ripping it open and taking her time rolling it on his cock. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything.

She climbed on top of him and wasted no time adjusting his angle and sinking onto him. God, she’d missed this, missed it so much it hurt. Penelope opened her eyes and leaned forward until their faces were kissably close. “Say it again.”

“I love you. Please forgive me.” He growled as she rolled her hips.

“Again.”

“I love you, pet.” His hands fisted the sheets, fighting to obey her despite every instinct demanding he do otherwise. “Please forgive me.”

She kissed him, long and deep. “I forgive you.” Another kiss. “Do you know what I’d like from you for the next seven days?”

“No, Mistress.”

She nibbled his earlobe. “I want you to fuck me whenever you feel like it. I want you to make me come so often, I lose count. I want to go to dinner and sneak off to the bathroom where you take me against the wall so hard, you have to cover my mouth to keep anyone from hearing me scream. I want to wear your marks on my body.” She never stopped moving, never stopped riding his cock as she whispered in his ear.

His hoarse laugh was music to her ears. “That’s not what I intended.”

“It doesn’t matter what you intended. This is about what I want, remember? And I want you to dominate me.” She set her teeth against his neck, hard enough to hurt. “Starting now.”

He had her on her back with her arms over her head between one breath and the next. Will met her gaze, and the wonder in his eyes hit her right in the chest. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

He thrust into her. “Say it again.”

“I love you.” He let go of her wrists and she wrapped her arms and legs around him, the words becoming a chant, a promise, a benediction. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Epilogue

Penelope hurried around Serve’s dance floor and checked her watch for the fifth time in five minutes. Still late. She hadn’t expected her meeting to run long, but she couldn’t walk out when she was so close to closing the deal. She grinned. She had a new contract for her efforts, so hopefully Will would understand. He’d been exceedingly amazing in helping them both find a balance between their professional life and their personal one. It wasn’t without mishaps, but they were figuring things out.

She exited the elevator on the second floor and strode to the room he’d specified. Stopping with her hand on the doorknob, she took a deep breath and did her best to let the good and the bad of the day go. She wanted to run through the door and tell him everything, but there was a time and place for that, and Serve wasn’t it.

He wasn’t alone.

She stopped just inside the door, taking in the room in a glance. Will stood next to the bed, casually running a flogger through his hands. At his feet was a woman in red panties and little else. Penelope raised her brows.

Will briefly touched the sub’s head. “Do not move, Victoria.” Then he crossed to Penelope and guided her out the door.

Conflicting emotions rose in her, chief among them jealousy. But she held her tongue and waited for his explanation. He never did anything without a reason, and she couldn’t see him carelessly hurting her this way—or intentionally for that matter. “Well?”

“Don’t you like her? I know you’ve played with women from time to time, but I wasn’t sure of your preferences.”

It took her a full three seconds to understand. She glanced at the door. “She’s for me?”

“Pet, I would be a neglectful Dominant and boyfriend if I ignored the fact you’re a switch. When’s the last time you took the dominant side of things?”

He damn well knew it was with him and well over six months ago. She loved submitting to him. She did. But he was right. There was a part of her that missed it horribly. She caught herself staring at the door and jerked her gaze back to him. “You know, most men give flowers.”

“I’m not most men.”

If that wasn’t the God’s honest truth, she didn’t know what was. She smiled. “You got me a sub.”

“I did.” He paused. “I know you didn’t make a habit of sleeping with your subs before…”

“And I’m not about to start now.” Playing was one thing. Sex was completely another. The threesome Will had orchestrated—and he still wouldn’t tell her who their third was—had been fun, but that wasn’t something she wanted to share with others. She went onto her tiptoes and kissed him. “You’re the best.”

“Come, pet. Let’s go play with your new toy.”

She laughed as he led the way back into the room. The sub, Victoria, was a pretty little redhead, with pale skin that she suspected would redden up with the lightest of contact. Even now, a blush spread across the woman’s chest as she watched Penelope from beneath her lashes.

Running her fingers through the sub’s hair, she said, “Victoria, tell me your safe word.”

“Crimson.”

“Good girl.” She looked at Will, but he seemed content to sit on the couch and watch. The heat in his eyes was something to behold, though—he liked watching this side of her. Good. She liked him watching.

She considered the various options the room held and finally decided on the bed—the better for Will to see what she was about to do. She guided the sub up to the bed and bent the woman over it. “These panties have got to go, sugar.” Penelope slid them down the woman’s legs and threw them at Will. He caught the scrap of fabric with a wolfish grin.

The flogger Will had been playing with when she walked into the room was perfect—lightweight deerskin. She picked through the chest next to the sub, letting the woman see her pick up and discard toy after toy. The flogger would be excellent to start, but she wasn’t stopping there. She ran her fingers over a thick wooden paddle and smiled when the sub inhaled sharply. This was the one.

It felt so incredibly good to swing that flogger and watch the woman’s skin go pink from strikes she delivered. She got lost in the sensation, in the minute reactions of the sub’s body. Penelope stopped twice to check on her, but she was well and truly blissed out.

She stopped swinging when the woman’s ass was covered in thin welts and her pussy was so wet, Penelope could see it from where she stood. She walked over and ran her hands over the marks. “You’ve pleased me greatly, Victoria.”

“I… Thank you, Sir.”

She brought her hand down hard, making Victoria gasp. “As a reward for good behavior. I have one last instruction for you. Are you listening?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. You’re going to like this one.” She tangled her fingers in the sub’s hair and brought her up. She guided the woman over to the couch next to Will, careful to watch her to make sure she didn’t stumble. The sub looked confused, but expectant. Perfect.

Penelope slid into Will’s lap and kissed him. He responded instantly, opening his mouth for her, and letting her drive the contact. God, I love this man. She lifted her head and leaned over to take Victoria’s hand. “Touch yourself. I want to watch you come.”

The sub’s lips parted and her eyes went wide. “Yes, Sir.”

She settled against Will as the woman went to work, her fingers sliding between her legs as she watched Penelope. She saw the exact moment Victoria lost control, her body going tense and tight as a low moan slipped past her lips. It made Penelope’s skin feel too tight, but she wasn’t done yet.

She got up and grabbed one of the blankets stored specifically for aftercare and wrapped it around Victoria, wedging the woman between her and Will. Minutes ticked by as the sub’s shivering subsided. Penelope pressed a kiss to her temple. “I hope we can do this again sometime, Victoria.”

“Me too, Sir.” She ducked her head and climbed to her feet. “Thank you.” Then she turned around and walked from the room.

The door had barely closed when Will had Penelope under him. She went for the front of his pants as he yanked her dress up. Half a breath later, he was inside her. “We’re doing this again, pet.”

“Yes, Sir.” She kissed him, moaning against his lips as he shoved his hands under her hips, pushing his cock deeper into her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He rocked against her, the little motions sending sparks dancing behind her eyes. “Fuck, I love you so much it makes me crazy.” He shifted, lifting her so she straddled him. She wasted no time gripping his shoulders and rolling her body up and down his cock. All the pent up desire that had been building from the moment she walked into this room and realized what he had planned for her peaked, sending her hurtling into oblivion, his name on her lips.

She was vaguely aware of him following her over the edge, and then she slumped against his chest. “That was fun.”

“Marry me, pet.”

Penelope lifted her head so fast, she clipped his jaw. “What did you just say?”

He rubbed his jaw, looking slightly uncomfortable. “I had a plan. I was going to wait for the opening night at the Falcon Bar and pull you up to the roof and propose.”

“But that’s tomorrow.”

“I know.” His grin was a bit self-deprecating as he pulled a ring box out of the jacket that had fallen to the floor. “But things never seem to go according to plan where you’re concerned.” He opened the box, revealing a large princess cut diamond in a simple white gold band. It was perfect.

She started to reach out to touch it and stopped before her fingers made contact. “You’re proposing.”

“I knew the moment you took me back that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I won’t suggest we combine our businesses or any other such nonsense—the competition is good for us.”

And for their sex life.

He kept going. “I can’t promise I’ll never make mistakes, but I can promise that I’ll never stop loving you and working to be the best husband and Dom I can possibly be. Will you do me the unbelievable honor of being my wife, Penelope?”

There was only one answer. There had only ever been one answer. She nodded and let him slip the ring on her finger—a perfect fit—and then framed his face with her hands. “Yes, Sir.”

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Acknowledgments

To God. 2014 was full of some really high highs and really low lows. I can’t wait to see what 2015 will bring.

To Heather Howland and Kari Olson - Thanks for helping me beat this beast into submission and bring out the very best version of the story.

To Tessa Bailey, for all the emails and pep talks and for helping me get the Serve world just right.

To Seleste Delaney and PJ Schnyder for being there to lend an ear and help me wrestle through some rough patches. Y’all are awesome!

To the Rabble for being as geeked out about the fact that I got to slip a threesome into this book as I was. ;)

To my readers. You never cease to amaze me, and I hope you love this book as much as I do!

To Mom for always being there when I need you.

To Tim. It’s been one hell of a ride so far, and you never fail to ground me. Love you like whoa!

About the Author

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Katee Robert, learned to tell stories at her grandpa’s knee. Her favorites then were the rather epic adventures of The Three Bears, but at age twelve she discovered romance novels and never looked back. Though she dabbled in writing, life got in the way, as it often does, and she spent a few years traveling, living in both Philadelphia and Germany. In between traveling and raising her two wee ones, she had the crazy idea that she’d like to write a book and try to get published.

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Explore the Serve miniseries…

Owned by Fate

Journalist Caroline Preston arrives at Serve, the city’s hottest BDSM club, with one goal—to hate it. But then she sees him. Ripped. Rough. Eyes that could incinerate a girl’s panties. As the owner of the club, Jonah Briggs sole purpose is to ensure that his clientele get everything they need, but when he sees Caroline, his only thought is what he wants—to give the sexy little reporter the most exquisite pleasure she’s ever experienced…if she’ll let him.

Exposed by Fate

When Eliza Ballas attends New York’s premier BDSM club, she’s taken aback by the sexy Brit who assumes she’s adept at sensual arts. She needs an erotic education fast, and she knows just the man to teach her. Oliver Preston never turns from pleasure, but Eliza’s his sister’s best friend. Torn between a sense of duty and his need to make her his, he draws Eliza deep into his world of exquisite pleasure, knowing he’ll have to give her to another man…if he doesn’t lose himself to her first.

Mistaken by Fate

With seduction in sight, fashion designer Ridley Ethridge arranges to meet her potential Mr. Almost Perfect anonymously at a club that caters to erotic appetites. What happens next is both intense and satisfying—until Ridley’s blindfold comes off to reveal the twin brother of Mr. Almost Perfect. The same twin who broke her heart eight years ago before he enlisted. Garrett Reaver will be damned before he lets someone else have Ridley. They have some seriously unfinished business to take care of…and it starts now.

Also by Katee Robert

Come Undone series

Wrong Bed, Right Guy

Chasing Mrs. Right

Two Wrongs, One Right

Seducing Mr. Right

Out of Uniform series

In Bed with Mr. Wrong

His to Keep

Seducing the Bridesmaid

Meeting His Match

Mistaken by Fate

Sanctify series

The High Priestess

Queen of Swords

Queen of Wands

If you love sexy romance, one-click these steamy Brazen releases…

One Night of Sin
an After Hours novella by Elle Kennedy

When it comes to sex, good girl Skyler Thompson has always played it safe, but one look at the sinfully sexy owner of Sin, an exclusive Boston nightclub, and she’s willing to reconsider. Danger follows former MMA fighter Gage Holt like a shadow. Despite his successes with Sin, Gage can’t risk getting involved with a woman, especially one as sweet as Skyler. But Skyler’s tougher than she looks, and she’s ready to fight for her man…

Down on Her Knees
a Dare Me novel by Christine Bell

Detective Rafe Davenport makes Courtney DeLollis uneasy. She knows all too well what happens when a man has too much control, but a deeper, darker part of her is fascinated by his need to dominate in the bedroom. So when Rafe dares her to try four scenes, each designed to tease and torment, Courtney reluctantly agrees. But once he has her on her knees, Rafe realizes that she might be the one woman capable of bringing him to his…

No Romance Required
a Love Required novel by Cari Quinn

When an unexpectedly sexy night with his feisty interior designer hits the tabloids, corporate mogul—and dominant lover—Cory Santangelo asks her for a favor. Pretend to be his girlfriend for a month, no strings attached, to get the press and his family off his back. Who knew know faking it—and being tied up in those strings—would feel so good.

Down for the Count
a Dare Me novel by Christine Bell

After Lacey Garrity’s wedding day goes horribly, adulterously wrong, she shucks her straight-laced life and accepts a reckless challenge from sexy boxer Galen Thomas, her best friend’s older brother. The dare? Take him on her honeymoon instead, but will running away with the enemy lead Lacey to love?