Forever Wicked

Page 5

“I had a late lunch,” she lied.
He set down his fork slowly. “Do you remember what I do to subs who aren’t honest with me?”
Orgasm deprivation—hours and hours of it. Her sex tightened. Heat crawled up her cheeks. Even on an olive-skinned Italian girl, the blush would be impossible to miss.
“I see that you do.” Jason looked satisfied. “The sensual torture last time will seem minor compared to what I’ll do tomorrow night if you don’t tell me the truth now.”
Gia gritted her teeth. Until tonight, they’d never even had an argument. She’d just willingly fallen under his spell and into his embrace. Trying to resist Jason now was as futile as it was arousing.
“All right, then. I was nervous when I walked in and now I’m sick to my stomach that I let you buy me, even for a few weeks.”
With a cynical curl of his lips, he lifted his beer and toasted her. “Everyone has their price, Gia. I just found yours.”
Chapter Three
Gia tried to breathe through her nerves as she arrived at Jason’s condo the next night. The mountain of lies she’d told her family still scalded her with shame. They wouldn’t understand. Mila would tell her not to compromise herself. Her parents would be disappointed that she’d sold her morals and her body, even briefly. Her brother, if he’d been here, would have gone after Jason with cocked fists and a loaded semiautomatic.
Fabricating excuses had been far better for everyone.
As she stepped off the glass elevator that gave her aerial views of the city stretching on forever, she crept into a foyer with a water feature cascading down a glass wall. His door stood to the left. Gripping her suitcase in her hand, she glanced at her phone. Three minutes until six. One hundred eighty seconds to decide how the hell she was going to leave in eighteen days with her sanity and her heart intact. Of course, she’d had nearly twenty-four hours to ruminate on that problem. She’d come up with absolutely nothing.
Gia focused on his imposing black wood and wrought iron door, but couldn’t make her feet move. Her belly clamped. Her heart stuttered. She tried to convince herself that she could handle this, but the mental pep talk wasn’t working.
To her shock, the door opened suddenly, and Jason stood there in jeans, a long-sleeved jersey knit top in midnight blue, bare feet, and that triumphant hint of a smile she wanted to slap off his face.
“You’re on time. Very good.” He stepped back to admit her. As she entered with leaden legs, he glanced at her suitcase that had seen better days. “Is that all you brought?”
Had he expected her to bring her whole closet? “You gave me the impression I wasn’t going to need many clothes.”
“You won’t.” He shut the door behind her and took her bag. “I don’t have many ground rules while you’re here. Anything you see in the kitchen you want, take it. Don’t leave the building without consulting me. I’ve got a heated pool on the deck outside our bedroom. There’s a full gym downstairs. You’re welcome to use either as you’d like. No work while you’re here, especially on your brother’s case. We’ll discuss any family emergencies together as they arise. When we’re sceneing, you will call me Mr. Denning. Is anything I’ve said confusing?”
“No.” She supposed that since she hadn’t seen or knelt for him in nearly a year, he no longer wanted her to call him Master. That was just fine. That slash of pain didn’t mean a damn thing.
To avoid staring at him, she eyed his personal space. The expanse of a two-story wall of windows was unbroken by a drape or blind. Then again, why bother? Who could peek in on them this high up?
“Nice shoes.” He glanced down at her dressiest T-strap black heels. “What three garments did you choose to wear with them?”
His high-handed attitude made her feel like a piece of merchandise. Gia tried to keep a grip on her temper. Was he punishing her for the last year or was she seeing the real Jason Denning now that he had no reason to woo her?
“Hello to you, too. My day was hectic. How about yours?”
“It dragged by while I counted the hours until I could fuck you again.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at it. “I’m much happier now that my wait is over. And I don’t want to hear the attitude again. I’ve done nothing you haven’t agreed to, so don’t act as if I’ve insulted you.”
Technically, he was right, and that rubbed Gia completely wrong. “Should I just drop all my clothes here, get to the floor, and spread my legs? Or will I make it up to the bedroom before you’re all over me?”
Jason froze. “Do you need to reconsider your decision? The door is right behind you if you’d rather divorce now and forfeit the money.”
So cold. Where was the firm but caring Dom she’d fallen for? If she was smart, she’d take him up on this reprieve and walk out the door. But she couldn’t afford to. Besides, it wouldn’t be the right thing to do. She’d hurt him, so now he meant to hurt her back. An eye for an eye.
“No. I’m staying until the twenty-fourth.”
For a silent moment, he let her feel the weight of his anger. “Then act like it or we’ll start talking about consequences.”
Gia knew she shouldn’t mouth off to him again, but she had to ask him one thing. “Would your parents be proud of you right now?”
He shifted his weight and seemed to ponder her question. The conclusion he reached apparently amused him. “My father would. He was an absolute bastard who ate other people for breakfast. My mother would expect it. In fact, just a few days ago she suggested that I take you in hand and be firmer in my expectations. I didn’t listen to her much growing up, but I think she might be onto something now.”
His answer horrified her, mostly because he appeared dead serious. Nor did he seem to think his behavior was appalling. Oh god… She wasn’t just in over her head; he’d no doubt drown her before the night was through.
Jason had not only bought her body until their anniversary, he’d bought her soul. She’d sold it to him almost without a fight.
Gia closed her eyes in shame. “I’m wearing a sweater, a bra, and jeans.”
“No panties?” he murmured in her ear as he set her suitcase down and began circling her like a shark. She heard the rustle of him around her, felt his body heat across her skin.
“None.”
“I’m very pleased. Take everything off.”
Her brows drew together as she tensed and tried to find her fortitude. Would it be even harder when she had to spread her legs for him and allow him inside her, knowing he merely wanted revenge? Or would he, like before, overwhelm her with pleasure until she panted and begged? She didn’t know which would hurt more.
Slipping out of her shoes, she stepped onto the textured wood. It was solid, comforting, kind of like the floor in her dad’s den. Gia focused on that as she peeled her sweater over her head and dropped it to the ground. She tried not to think about what she was doing when she reached behind her and unhooked her bra. Not that the lace covered much, but as she removed what little protection it afforded, cold hit her nipples. They beaded. She refused to believe it had anything to do with Jason’s blistering stare.
Slowly, Jason reached out and touched her. Gia started with a little gasp. His ghost of a smile haunted her when he ran his knuckles up the curve of her waist, to the swell of her breast, brushing over the sensitive bead. Against her will, a jolt of desire shivered through her system. Her breath hitched.
“Pretty. Soft,” he whispered. “Now lose the jeans so I can see your pussy.”
Gia dragged in a shuddering breath, her whole body tense. Why did she resent him and want him so much at the same time? What mystical control did he have over her body? Or did she simply respond because she’d always loved him?
Her fingers shook as she unsnapped her pants. The zipper fell with a subdued hiss. Then she fitted her hands on the waistband and pushed them down her hips. A year ago, they’d been tight. Since then, they’d gotten so big, they fell to her knees with the tiniest shove. She stepped out of them, leaving them piled on the wood beside her sweater.
Gia stood totally bare in front of him, eyes squeezed tightly shut.
Jason took her chin in his grip. “You don’t get to escape me by closing your eyes and pretending I’m someone else.”
Lashes fluttering, she lifted her lids. “That’s not… I wasn’t even thinking of another man.”
“So this is the sacrificial martyr routine. Perfect,” he snapped. “Nothing makes a man feel more wanted than cringing.”
Gia clenched her fists. “For the next eighteen days, you can tell me where to be, what to wear, where to sleep, how to kneel, and the way you want me to spread my legs. You do not get to tell me how to feel.”
He hesitated, his stare taking her in. She wished she could see warmth in his blue eyes—something that made his strict care seem like the safety net it once had. Now it just felt like a blade he held at her throat.
Finally, he stepped back, reaching behind him to grab a fluffy white robe on a coat rack she hadn’t noticed. It was too small for him, and it made Gia wonder if he kept it here for his overnight conquests. She tried not to weep at the thought as he slipped it over her shoulders and she rushed to belt it around her waist.
“Go upstairs,” he demanded. “At the end of the hall, you’ll find our bedroom and someone waiting for you. I’ll be up soon.”
Someone? He wasn’t coming up to push her into bed right this second? Or had he arranged for another person to do his bondage dirty work first? She frowned.
Annoyance tightened his lips. “Problem?”
Whatever awaited her upstairs would allow her precious time to confront her feelings and get them under control. She’d been terrified out of her mind on the job once or twice. She’d buckled down, pushed through, and taken care of business. This required the same strategy.
“None.”
Gia swept past him and headed up the stairs. Before they’d married, she would have taunted him with a kiss and a flirty smile. Now, she risked a peek at him over her shoulder and found him watching her, unblinking and resolved.
With a shiver, she raced to the master bedroom and got her first look at his personal space. The soft lights of the recessed cans and the golden glow from a lamp on his nightstand illuminated the room, muting the view of the city. The big dark leather-tufted headboard dominated one wall and lorded over the king-sized bed, covered in white with accents of shimmering taupe. It looked like a sleek hotel room. Except for the two women who stood inside the space, both gorgeous and impeccably groomed.
“Gia?” a blonde in her mid-thirties asked.
“Yes.” Were they Jason’s lovers? Did he want her to hear their bedroom tales or something?
“I’m Michaela.” Her smile broadened, a friendly gesture that surprisingly set her at ease. Then she gestured to the woman beside her. “This is my assistant Stacia.”
The very petite, exotic brunette bowed her head in welcome. “Hello.”
What was going on? “Nice to meet you.”
“If you’ll come with me into the bathroom, we’ll get started on your hair,” said Michaela.
Her hair? Jason wanted her tresses arranged in some fancy do before he tousled her in his big bed? Then again, this was his show. She was here to entertain him.
“Sure.”
As they rounded the corner into the modern space, she stopped short. A contemporary oval tub stood alone in the corner of the room on dark slate tile. Views of the city sparkled from the two walls of windows. A double vanity with hideously expensive marble carved out not only the counters but the sinks, all in severe angles. The piece took up half the length of one wall. A massive shower ate up the rest. No curtain or glass partitioned it off. The space was designed to simply walk into, with shower heads to spray a body from every direction, as well as overhead.
In the middle of the large space, Michaela had set up a big leather chair with an ottoman and waved Gia toward it. “Please sit here.”
Getting her hair done wasn’t exactly like being waterboarded. With a shrug, she eased into the seat.
Immediately, Michaela had her hands in Gia’s tresses, fluffing and testing its texture. “Tell me what you’d like to do with your hair. I’d recommend a trim to clean up the ends. We can play with the color if you want. Your dark brown has gold tones. It’s pretty, but I can add more warmth, frame your face with some highlights. We can also give you some depth with lowlights.”
“He didn’t give you specific instructions?” If he’d paid a pair of beauticians to come to his place, she figured that Jason would want to call the shots.
“Just to bring out your natural beauty and make you happy.”
That puzzled the hell out of Gia. She’d never been a girly-girl, and highlights would just mean maintenance later that she didn’t need to deal with. Her plate was already full. But a free haircut was a free haircut.