Surrender Page 4

  “But—”

  “Don’t. Don’t wreck this for me, Joss,” I snapped, letting my tone tell him I didn’t want or need his interference.

  “Is he . . . doing anything inappropriate? Or making you do anything you don’t want to do?”

  I knew why he’d asked that. He’d heard the same rumors about Maldonado that I had.

  “No, though I’m not crazy about filing,” I added, hoping the joke would lighten things up. “Never have been.”

  Finally, my brother’s expression changed a little. He was still suspicious. I could see it in the tightness in his jaw. But at least now he wasn’t ready to rip off anyone’s head. “If he does anything, tries anything, you’d better tell me.”

  “I will.” A lie. But, whatever.

  Joss took a step toward his room, pausing next to me to give me the side eye. “Something about this sounds fishy.”

  “So far, everything’s good. I swear.” If he knew I had come home from work with my torn underpants in my purse, he might disagree. I was going to have to dispose of them carefully.

  “O-okay. I’ve sent my resume out to a few companies and I’m meeting with an employment agency tomorrow. I’m going to find another job. I’m the man of the house. That’s my responsibility.”

  If he had done what he just said, that was encouraging. “That’s good.”

  Outside of the third degree I was given about my new job, I was very happy about the way this conversation had gone. With the news about the employment agency appointment, Joss was sounding more like the Joss I’d hoped he would someday become. If it wasn’t all an act, we might be turning the corner.

  Maybe my prayers had finally been answered.

  The next morning, my phone started ringing the instant I stepped into the shower. And it didn’t stop. Not while I washed up, or while I shaved my legs, or while I finally got annoyed, cut off the water, and wrapped myself in a towel.

  I answered with a grouchy sounding, “Yes, sir?”

  “Pack an overnight bag.”

  Click.

  I glared at the phone, then tossed it on the bed. “Good morning to you too,” I grumbled as I stomped into some clean panties.

  I dressed in something work appropriate and travel friendly, then went down to the kitchen for some coffee. Caffeine. I needed caffeine. Lots of it.

  After getting the coffeemaker going, I went down to our storage cage in the building’s basement, dug out a small carry-on suitcase, and hauled it upstairs to pack. On the way up, I filled a cup of steaming hot happiness and slurped my way back to my room.

  Assuming I was supposed to be packing for one day, I packed enough clothes for two, just in case. Work clothes, underwear, makeup and hair stuff, shoes . . . and one sexy something, just in case he was expecting it. And the contract, which I hadn’t read yet. After the drama of last night, I hadn’t been in the right frame of mind to tackle it. I was rolling the packed suitcase down the hall and finishing up cup number one of coffee when Joss poked his head out, took one look at my suitcase, and growled, “What the hell?”

  “Business trip.”

  Joss rolled his bloodshot eyes. “Yeah, right.”

  “A business owner does go out of town on business trips, you know. Especially ones who have branches in other states. And they usually take their administrative assistants with them.”

  “The bastard knows what he’s doing,” my brother seethed through gritted teeth. “Don’t let him treat you like a whore.”

  Rage pulsed through me at the sound of that word. “Oh, he won’t. I won’t let that happen. I’m no man’s whore.”

  That seemed to take a little fire out of Joss’s eyes. “Demand separate rooms.”

  “I will.”

  His gaze zoomed up and down my body. I was wearing a pretty conservative outfit. Slacks, a blouse, and cardigan sweater. Two-inch pumps. My hair was neat but also fairly conservative, smoothed back into a low ponytail. “I hope this is all legit. But something tells me it’s not. We’ve both heard the rumors about Maldonado, that he’s a sick bastard who sleeps with his employees and then fires them.”

  “No, I haven’t heard that rumor,” I lied. “Do you have any proof?”

  “No, but—”

  “When you have some proof, then bring it to me and I’ll decide whether I want to keep this position or not. In the meantime, he’s paying me good, the work isn’t bad, and neither are the hours. We need the money.” I didn’t add the part about how a lot of my money had been going to lawyers to keep his butt out of jail.

  His lips thinned. “Fine.”

  I gave him a hug. “I promise, Kameron Maldonado isn’t going to treat me like his slut. I wouldn’t put up with that.” I glanced at my watch. “Now, I need to get going. I’m assuming we leave sometime this morning. I wouldn’t want to cause a delay by being late.”

  “Fine. Call me later. When you get wherever you’re going.” He grabbed me and hugged me hard. “I would feel like absolute shit if something happened to you because of me.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen.” I squeezed back, then stepped away. “Gotta go.”

  “Be careful,” he shouted after me as I race-walked to the door.

  “I will!”

  I had to break a few speed limits to get to work on time, but I made it with not a minute to spare. Leaving my suitcase in my car, I hurried inside, poked the elevator button at least five times, and counted the seconds before the bell chimed. The door rolled open, and my heart jumped.

  My new boss was standing there, giving me mean eyes.

  “You’re late,” he said.

  “Technically, I’m on time. The elevator—”

  “We have to leave now.” Stepping out of the car, he steered me toward the exit with a hand on my back. “Where’s your suitcase?”

  “My car. I didn’t know if I should—”

  “We’ll pick it up on the way out.”

  As we stepped out of the building, a black limo rolled to a stop directly in front of us. The driver scurried out and opened the door. I sat. Kameron sat next to me.

  His jaw tensed. “You haven’t gone shopping yet.”

  “I haven’t had time.” I felt my face warming as I recalled yesterday’s lunch hour. “I tried going during my lunch—”

  “And I let you leave early yesterday.”

  “Yes, okay. You did. But something urgent came up.”

  “What?” he barked. “What came up?”

  “That’s none of your business. You’re my boss. Not my husband. Or my father.”

  Much to my surprise, he chuckled. “Point taken. Again.”

  A little amused by his reaction, I glanced at him. His lips were curved into a lopsided semismile. It was a sexy expression.

  “We’ll get some shopping in later today,” he said. “New York has a few decent places to shop.”

  “New York?” I echoed. I’d always wanted to go to New York. Correction, I’d always dreamed of going to New York. The Statue of Liberty, Times Square, the art galleries, Coney Island and, of course, the Museum of Modern Art.

  “We’ll be there for at least three days. If you didn’t pack enough, we’ll take care of it after we land.”

  Without thinking, I volleyed back, “Yeah, well, if you’d been a little more forthcoming when you called, I would’ve known how much to pack.”

  That earned me a full belly laugh. And a scowl. “Touché, Miss Barnes. Though I should punish you for being so outspoken. . . .” His expression once more turned wicked, and my skin started burning.

  Punish me? What exactly did he mean by that?

  4

  During the entire one-hour flight on the company’s private jet (I didn’t know the company owned a private jet!), Kameron worked on his laptop, leaving me to amuse myself. Fortunately, I’d downloaded a book onto my phone. It wasn’t a gripping page turner, but it was better than staring out the window and counting the minutes. Or staring at Kam like a goon while he worked.

&nb
sp; For some reason, despite the fact that he’d basically blackmailed me into some sort of sexual arrangement I didn’t understand (because I hadn’t yet read the contract he’d given me), I just loved to look at him. And every time I did, I discovered some small thing that made him that much sexier.

  After we landed, Kameron spent the limo ride to our destination on the phone while I gawked out the window. I read the signs as we crawled through clogged streets. Water Street, Broadway, West Street. Lots of cars and taxis and people and signs. It was almost too much to take in.

  “Your first time?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said, shifting to look his way. “It’s so . . . busy.”

  “That, it is.” He tucked his laptop into his briefcase. “We’re stopping at the condo first, to freshen up. My first appointment is in a couple of hours, so you’ll have a little time to relax and orientate yourself.”

  “Sounds good.”

  The limo pulled up to one of the many towering buildings I’d admired. This one had a gray stone façade on the first floor and red brick on the many floors above. The driver opened our doors, and out I stepped. Before following Kameron to the glass entry, I craned my head to look up. One, two, three . . . ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, or was it fourteen? Fourteen floors. We stepped inside. Wow. Glossy wood paneling, a gorgeous chandelier overhead, an information desk to the right, and sleek, white leather couches on the left. We angled through a wide opening just beyond the information desk, to the elevators.

  This was New York luxury.

  In the elevator, I watched the numbers illuminate as we zoomed up, up, up. We stopped on the fourteenth floor. Together, I carrying my purse and he his laptop case, we stepped out into a neutrally decorated hallway. And within minutes I was standing in a spacious living room, looking out across blue water and the Statue of Liberty. “Wow.”

  “This place was a steal for the location. And it has a pretty decent view.” Kameron stepped up beside me. “Let me show you your room.” He took my hand, weaving his fingers between mine, and pulled. Reluctantly, I followed. We traveled through the living room and down a hallway. He opened the first door. “Your room.” Pulling me in, he motioned to another door set off the side. “Your bathroom.”

  My gaze swept across the luxurious space. The bed was huge, neatly made with crisp white bedding. The walls were painted a soft gray. Darker gray curtains flanked the window to the right of the bed. And directly across from the bed stood a sleek, white dresser with a flat-screen television hanging on the wall.

  I felt like I was in a five-star hotel. “This place is . . . insane.”

  “It’s really quite simple. I’ve toured some condos that would take your breath away.”

  “I can’t even imagine.”

  “I didn’t want to spend a great deal of money on a place here. I don’t spend a lot of time in the city. I just needed someplace to sleep.”

  “Just someplace to sleep.” I chuckled as my gaze hopped around the room again. “You and I live in such different worlds.”

  “Do we?” He placed his hands on my shoulders and turned me toward him. “Are our worlds really so different?”

  “Of course they are. Look at this place. I live in squalor compared to this.”

  “And I was raised in a trailer park,” he said, his thumbs dragging over my collarbones. “We had a single-wide mobile home. We lived there until I was twelve, then moved up to a bungalow in Redford.”

  This shocked me. I’d always assumed he had come from money. As that old saying went, it took money to make money. So he’d somehow gotten his hands on capital to build his father’s business into the huge conglomerate it was today. “I’m sorry if I made an unfair assumption.”

  “No need to apologize. It’s a common misconception. One I usually don’t bother to correct. But . . .” His brows pulled. His lips twisted. “Hmmm.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” He looked into my eyes for a moment, and I felt like the world had stopped spinning. His head started dipping down. He was going to kiss me. Ohmygod, he was going to kiss me.

  I closed my eyes and held my breath and silently waited for his lips to find mine. When they did, I sucked in a little gasp. His mouth pressed against mine, possessing it, claiming it. It wasn’t a soft kiss. It wasn’t a tease. Not at all. And when I parted my lips to pull in some much needed air, his tongue slid inside, filling my mouth with his sweet, intoxicating flavor. Our tongues met, tangled. And with each stab and stroke, more of my body warmed. My chest, my face, my stomach, and farther down. Between my legs. One of his hands skimmed down to my breast, cupping it through my clothes.

  My spine tightened, arching forward, pressing my burning flesh harder into his hand. A soft moan bubbled up my throat, echoing in our joined mouths.

  I could hardly believe this was happening. I was in a beautiful apartment in New York City. With a man who threw away more money than I made in a year. And he was kissing me, touching me, like he couldn’t get enough. Like I made him burn as hot as he made me.

  I let my hands wander over his clothed form, imagining the muscular body that lay hidden beneath the soft wool jacket and smooth cotton shirt. But as my hands inched down to his stomach, he grabbed my wrists and jerked them behind my back.

  Startled, I tried to pull away, but he yanked me roughly, forcing me against him. His eyes were dark, his eyelids heavy, as he looked down at me.

  “Do you remember what I said earlier?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

  “When?”

  “You take far too many liberties with me,” he murmured, looking as if he might gobble me up at any moment. “I didn’t say you could touch me.”

  “Oh.” My face flushed. “I’m sorry, sir. I thought you’d—”

  “I didn’t say you could touch me,” he repeated.

  A little quiver buzzed up my spine.

  Walking, he forced me backward until I was trapped between the wall and his scrumptious body. I didn’t mind that so much. No, it was actually quite nice. He was warm too, and the heat radiating off him only amplified the burn sizzling in my blood. A wet, pounding need was thrumming between my legs, and I longed for him to rub it away.

  Still holding my wrists behind my back, he kicked my feet apart. “I can’t wait to punish you,” he murmured as he nibbled and licked my earlobe.

  Instantly, my left side was covered in goose bumps. I tipped my head to the side and closed my eyes. Ahhh, he did things with his teeth and tongue that no man had ever done to me before. He nipped just hard enough for me to suck in a little gasp and tighten all over. Then he gently laved that same spot, soothing the burn. Within seconds, I was hot and cold, shivering, breathless, and dizzy.

  My hips were rocking back and forth, my wet tissues rubbing against his thigh. But the ache was only getting worse. I couldn’t take any more.

  “Please,” I murmured.

  “Please what?” Releasing my hands, he warned, “Keep them behind your back.”

  I nodded. “Please,” I repeated, unable to articulate what I craved.

  He unbuttoned the waistband of my pants. “I like skirts,” he stated as he pulled the zipper down.

  “Yes, sir.” I wriggled while he pushed my pants down to my ankles. Then, at his unspoken prompt, I lifted one foot and then the other so he could remove my shoes and pants.

  His hands skimmed up the outsides of my legs, coming to a rest on my hips. He pulled them, forcing them forward, and pushed his thigh against the damp crotch of my panties. It felt so good, and yet I craved more. So much more.

  “You’re wet.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You’re warm.” He pulled his leg out and replaced it with a hand, cupping my crotch. A fingertip teased my slit through my panties.

  I shuddered. “Yes.”

  That fingertip pushed deeper, forcing the sodden material between my labia. “You want to come, don’t you, precious?”

  “Yes.” I slid my feet wider apart, opening my
self to him.

  He hooked his fingers, sliding them between my panties and my simmering flesh. “You need to come.”

  So dizzy I could barely stand, I grabbed his shoulders as I fought to keep from falling over. Never had I wanted a man to touch me this much. Never had I been so desperate for relief. “Yes. Please.”

  “I didn’t give you permission to touch me,” he snapped. Moving too fast for me to process, he jerked away, leaving me stumbling and staggering.

  “I’m sorry, sir.” Unsure whether I should stay put or follow him, I took one faltering step forward.

  “You must learn to obey,” he said in a chilly voice that cooled my burning blood a little. If this stuff was a game, he took it very seriously. Maybe a smidgen too seriously. “Didn’t you read the contract?”

  “N-no.”

  “Why not? You insisted I give it to you last night.”

  “I intended to read it last night. But, like I said, something came up. I’ll read it as soon as I get home.” Dammit, didn’t he expect his employees to have lives outside of work? He was expecting so much, maybe too much. But because my livelihood depended upon playing these games with him, I apologized without a second thought, “I’m very sorry, sir. I’ll do better. I promise.”

  His cold expression softened a tiny bit. It was enough to allow me to take a deep breath. “On your knees.”

  I dropped to my knees, grateful for the plush carpet underneath them.

  “Hands behind your back.”

  I clasped them behind my back, as commanded.

  He pulled his tie from his collar as he circled me. Stopping behind me, he leaned over my shoulder. “That’s more like it. I have no patience for disobedience. Do you understand?”

  A shiver quaked my body. I was nervous and unsure, but also oddly aroused. “Yes, sir.”

  Smooth, cool silk circled my wrists, sliding across my skin. It felt nice. Not so nice, though, when it tightened, binding them together.