Page 15 of Crave Me
I pushed back the leather chair, rolling it slowly and stood. I flinched as the silk shirt stuck to my healing skin and tugged it away from my back before walking around the desk. As I moved toward him, he pushed back his chair. Metal legs scraped on wood floor. He moved back just enough for me to squeeze between his knees and my desk.
“You’re still in pain,” he said, clearing noticing the way I was still flinching. “Have you changed your dressing?”
“No. I was going to call Gabby tonight and see if she’d help me.”
His tongue licked his upper lip. “I see. I believe I made it clear I would help you.”
“You weren’t my Dom then.”
His lips stretched, wicked with an evil grin that made me shiver. He unwrapped his arms from his chest and placed his palms at my hips—too gently to be dominating, too firm to be relaxed. His thumbs pressed into the sensitive area just inside my hipbones and I jolted straight up.
“And now?” His voice lowered. “Do you have a Dom?”
I’d already committed. As much as it excited and hurt me, this was the man I’d always wanted.
“Yes, sir. You’re my Dom.”
His hand patted my hipbone, skirted along the thin materials of my clothing before resting at my waist. “Good girl. Tonight, I’ll be at your place at eight. I’ll bring dinner. Wine. We’ll take care of your wounds, bathe you, and we’ll discuss contracts and negotiations. Understand?”
Tonight? From his arrival to now he’d had me completely off-balance. Firm and gentle. Demanding and curious. Giving me everything I wanted, holding it out in front of me like a carrot on a string. But damn, there was no other answer to give him.
“Yes, sir.”
He pushed me back gently, slowly. My ass hit the edge of the desk as he stood up. His chest brushed against mine, hands ran up my sides until he cupped the back of my neck.
“Good job, Little Bird. I know you’re nervous, and I know I’ve hurt you, but from here on out, it’s my job to take care of you. Trust me, Chloe, and I’ll give you exactly what you claim you always wanted.”
I stared at his throat. He’d already told he wouldn’t give me what I wanted. “Okay, sir.”
His thick, warm lips pressed against the top of my head. “Get back to work and I’ll see myself out. Take it easy for the rest of the day.”
He sauntered past me, opened and disappeared through the door to my office before I could say anything. Not that I had anything to say. Instead, I had hours to begin planning exactly how I’d take thirty days and use them to my advantage, so when he left me at the end of this, he didn’t take my heart with him.
* * *
I tightened my grip around my keys and hurried down Pearl Street toward my apartment overlooking the river. I had a car and a covered parking space, but unless it was pouring rain or below zero, I preferred walking the five blocks back to my apartment. A newly built building just off the river and Pearl Street, I lived in the heart of downtown. The brewery on the main floor of my building was somewhere I frequented so often most of the wait staff and managers knew me by name, almost like my own personalCheersbar. I skipped the door to the Folton Brewery, into the entryway of my own building.
“Hello, Miss Reynolds,” the doorman and security guard Frank said as I entered the modern lobby. I loved everything about this building, especially the modern main gathering areas. Light wood tables on gunmetal table legs, furniture that could have all been shipped from Ikea, much like my own apartment. As soon as I entered my building, my stress levels always evaporated.
That night was no different.
“Hi Frank,” I said and walked up to the main reception desk. “I’ll be having a visitor at eight tonight. His name is Simon Delgado. Can you please go ahead and buzz him up when he arrives?”
All visitors had to be announced, like I lived in a hotel. It was perfect for me. With my busy schedule, I was able to have concierge service, food delivered from the Brewery at a small, additional charge, and a twenty-four-hour exercise room I rarely used because I enjoyed hitting up the yoga classes at the gym where I’d met Tyra. It served all of my needs. Most of the residents were all my age, single or newly married. It wasn’t uncommon for many of us to gather on the rooftop deck during the summer and enjoy the warm weather while we had it.
Frank scribbled down the information I gave him on his blotter. He’d enter the information into the computer later, but he was older and averse to technology. He still preferred paper and pen, claiming it was faster for him.
“Will do, Miss Reynolds. Anything else I can do for you this evening?”
“No thanks. Have a good night and take care of yourself.”
“Always do,” he called to me as I turned and walked toward the elevators.
I didn’t have to wait long and by the time I entered my apartment, excitement was bubbling inside my veins. I tossed the keys and my purse onto the built-in shelving in the hall as I entered, removed my fall coat, kicked off my heeled boots, and slid them under the shelving in their correct space. I hung my coat in the entryway closet. My apartment was small but I didn’t mind. Other than my love of clothes and shoes and accessories, I lived on very little.
Everything was stylish with a modern, European flair. Definitely not anything similar to the country kind of home my parents had maintained. But something had attracted Simon to Cassie years ago, and a part of his attraction could have been because of the conservative home we’d been raised in. Despite her supermodel beauty, Cassie was as conservative and Midwestern as they came.
From our looks and goals to our political leanings and style, if there was any sort of spectrum to how we lived, we were always on opposite sides. How could a man love a woman like her, and turn around and want a woman like me?
