Bound (Forbidden Series - Book 1) (8 page)

              Jewell felt as if she had sandpaper in her eyes. She didn’t want to open them, didn’t want to wake up. It had taken her hours to fall asleep the night before. When she was slipping on the pajamas she’d found laid out on her bed, she’d heard Blake’s soft footsteps in the hall outside her room. He’d paused by her door, and she’d held her breath.

             
She wasn’t sure whether it was from anticipation or fear. But when he continued walking, she’d let out her breath and slid onto the bed, her knees unable to hold her. She had listened for him to return, and a long time later, when she heard his footsteps again and he again paused by her door before continuing on, her body had tensed — just like before.

             
Only then had she finally been able to nod off and forget her troubles. Now, she was gripping the covers beneath her chin and forcing her eyelids together, afraid of what she might see if she opened them. He might be sitting there watching her. Though she knew he wasn’t there — she couldn’t explain why; she just knew. But still, she had a sick feeling in her stomach.

             
Finally, fully aware that she’d never get back to sleep, ever so slowly she lifted her eyelids. She was on her side and facing the empty expanse of the huge bed. It took a moment, but she noticed a piece of blue paper on the pillow beside her.

             
She gazed at it as she worked on sitting up. Her name was written neatly at the top. Did she want to read what it said? There was also a small box sitting next to the note, and she was certain she didn’t want to know what it held.

             
But this is what she’d signed on for. She knew she couldn’t get out of it, so, ignoring the box for the moment, she reluctantly lifted up the note and unfolded it. She read through it twice, her cheeks flaming before she looked with disgust at the box.

             
What had she gotten herself into?

You did well last night, but you have a long way to go before I am pleased. I’ll be at work, but I want you to be thinking of me while I’m away, so use the device in the box immediately after you wake up. Keep it inserted all day. Do not take it out! I will do so when I’m ready for you. You’ll find a list of instructions on other matters sitting on the kitchen counter. I will be back at six this evening, and I expect you to be ready and waiting for me.

Blake

             
Jewell picked up the box gingerly, with a moue of distaste, and just stared at it. Did she really want to see what was inside? Did he know she hadn’t been with a man before? He had slipped his finger inside her. Had he been able to tell they wouldn’t fit together? Was the device meant to help somehow?

             
That seemed the most logical explanation if he wanted her to insert something
there
.

             
When she lifted the lid, she found a bullet-shaped device that had her blinking at it in question. It was really quite small, and that didn’t make sense if he wanted to stretch her out to accommodate his impressive size. She twisted the thing in her fingers and wondered why in the world he had given it to her. And what would happen if she defied him?

              If she did this, though, would it make sex with him less painful? How? She didn’t seem to know anything anymore, and that was almost worse than anything else. She remembered a time when she’d been excited about the idea of having sex for the first time. Didn’t everyone say how magical it was? Instead of finding magic, she was selling her virginity to someone she didn’t even like — from what little she knew of him.

              What did that make her?
Stupid question.

             
Tears threatened, but she wouldn’t let them fall. None of this was about her. She would do whatever it took to protect her brother, to keep her promise to her mother, who’d been a wonderful parent and her best friend. Jewell missed the woman so much that she still ached.

             
Yes, things could be a lot worse. Yes, Blake was cold, yes, he was demanding, and yes, she knew he wanted to take all he could from her. But at least she was attracted to him, even if it disgusted her to feel that way.

             
She picked up the “bullet” and the small tube of lubricant that accompanied it and moved to the bathroom, deciding she needed another shower before she did anything. Just looking at the device made her feel dirty.

             
When she climbed from the shower, the steam hanging in the air, she picked up the toy and applied the lubricant, following the directions that were included in the box. Then, standing before the mirror, she placed the tip of the device at her core and began applying pressure.

             
The pressure of it going inside made her stop. It wasn’t pleasant, not pleasant at all — the metal was cold, too. She tried to pretend it was a tampon. She’d inserted one of those a million times, and this thing probably wasn’t even as large. So it couldn’t be any more uncomfortable, right?

             
It was just so demeaning, dammit. She grimaced as she started to push the foreign object all the way in. But she was so dry. “Come on....you can do this,” she said to her reflection in a strained voice.

             
Gritting her teeth, she pushed harder and, with the help of the lubricant, the toy finally slipped into place, sending a strange sensation through her body. She shifted on her feet, closing her legs together, but with the toy there, it just felt awkward to stand that way.

             
After a few minutes, the foreign sensation subsided and she was left with just a slight discomfort, the sense of having something where it shouldn’t be. Mission accomplished. She moved to the bedroom and searched her small suitcase for something to wear.

             
Once she was dressed, she began walking from her room and made her way down the stairs, the object shifting inside her with each step. Then, to her complete shock and horror, she began to feel an intense arousal as something bizarre happened. She stopped where she was and that’s when she realized that the object was vibrating inside her.

             
When she reached the last step, her breathing grew slightly heavy, and her nipples were hard. If this was how she would feel all day long, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing when Blake took her — even if she did hate the guy.

             
She found another note in the kitchen; he was reminding her to keep the toy in, that he would know if she took it out for even a minute — and he told her she was to use the elliptical trainer, which she’d find in the workout room downstairs.

             
Why? She knew she was considered underweight, but she certainly wasn’t out of shape. She’d been lifting her mother for almost two months, had been fighting for survival afterward for four more months. That last command irritated her, but there were worse things he could ask of her, so she decided not to fight it.

             
Just when she thought she couldn’t take the toy any more, the vibrating stopped, and she slumped against the counter. Was it on a timer? What in the world was this thing and how would he know if she didn’t wear it? She couldn’t risk it.

             
Blowing out a breath of frustration, she took inventory of his fridge to see what he had to offer, then pulled open the freezer and found a carton of salty caramel ice cream. With a smile of defiance on her face, knowing he would despise her choice in breakfast food, she grabbed the carton and a large spoon, then took both to his living room and sat down on the black leather sofa.

             
Popping the top of the brand-new pint of ice cream, she dug the spoon in and took a large bite. She smiled in pure bliss. Heck, the creamy, delicious stuff contained milk and eggs. That, in her book, was a healthy breakfast. The idea of eating straight from the container made her smile as well. She was sure the uptight Blake would be horrified at her manners. But the “meal” and the way she was eating it gave her comfort. Her mother had always called ice cream food for the soul. It was a true cure-all, good for any and all woes, and it wasn’t quite the same unless you ate it straight from the container.

             
As for the exercise, how in the world would he know whether she got on the stupid elliptical or not? After she polished off half of the ice cream and found herself more than full, she decided to put the rest away before it melted. Standing up shifted her toy and sent a current of electricity through her body that had her gasping. The vibrating had started up again.

             
“Oh my…”

             
After walking slowly toward the freezer — the toy was shaking her up enough — she put the ice cream back and thought about heading straight to her bathroom to remove the infernal object. But Blake would be furious if she did so. She would just have to deal with the extra stimulation for the rest of the day. Maybe moving as little as possible would help. Heck, maybe she’d even take a nap. It wasn’t as if he’d know.

             
She somehow doubted her movement was what was causing the vibration. But she didn’t know — she’d never even seen a sex toy, let alone played with one. Heck, she hadn’t thought about playing with one, if this could be called playing.

             
When the phone rang a moment later, Jewell ignored it. The call wouldn’t be for her, so why should she bother to answer? She was sure he had a messaging service, or he had his calls routed to his offices after a fixed number of rings.

             
The landline rang again in a couple of minutes, and she again ignored it. She returned to the living room couch to lay down. The sensations that rippled through her nearly made her tremble, and she’d been doing that way too much for the past day.
Whole lotta shakin’ goin’ on.

             
Half an hour later the doorbell rang, and Jewell sat up. Didn’t people who came up to his apartment need a special key or something to get into the elevator? Wasn’t there security in the lobby? Who in the world would be at the door?

             
When the bell rang again less than a minute later, Jewell knew she couldn’t ignore it. Still, what if she answered and it was someone whom he didn’t want to know she was there? Would Blake become angry with her? So many hassles! She hoped she could get through this week without any more of them.

             
While she was hesitating, the doorbell and the phone rang again at the same time, and Jewell chose the lesser of the evils. She was sure she didn’t want to speak to whoever was calling Blake, and at least his door had a peephole, so she could see who was out there.

             
When she got up and looked through the peephole, she saw a suited man standing there with a small envelope in his hand. Maybe Blake had forgotten he was having something delivered.

             
The telephone stopped ringing at exactly the same time as she opened the door. The man who stood there smiled down at her before holding out an electronic tablet for her to sign. “Jewell Weston?”

             
She was taken aback when he said her name. She blinked at him without answering for a minute, wondering whether she should admit who she was. That was ridiculous. Obviously Blake or Ms. Beaumont had sent something to her.

             
“Yes, that’s me.” She signed and then accepted the envelope. “Have a great day.”

             
Once the man left and Jewell shut and locked the door, she went to the dining room and found a penknife. Cutting open the sealed envelope, she discovered a brief note.

Turn your phone on and answer my calls!

Blake

             
She’d completely forgotten about the cell phone the agency had sent with her. She was allowed to use it only when out with a man who had hired her, but as soon as she returned to the agency, she was to return the phone so he couldn’t try to contact her without paying first. She was perfectly okay with that. But was he going to use her phone to try to harass her? Nah. No guy could be that much of a control freak.

             
When the phone powered up, she saw that six text messages were waiting for her. What in the world? Opening the message box, she found they were all from Blake. He’d programmed his number into the phone.

             
You must stay in contact with me always.

             
When I call you, answer the phone.

             
Never turn this device off.

             
Why aren’t you answering me yet?

             
Where in the hell are you?

             
If I have to come back to the apartment, you will not like the results!

             
That last message had come in only two minutes ago. Knowing she would rather talk to him by text message than in person, Jewell quickly figured out how to type a response.