Saving My Submission BN (2 page)

Liar.

A noise of disbelief rumbled in the back of his
throat.

“I had fun. We got to burn off some stress, but it’s
late, and I’m tired. Besides, I need to get back to my sister’s house. She’ll
worry.”

“Worried, huh? Does she always treat you like you’re a
teenager?” he chuckled in disbelief.

I flashed him a sarcastic smirk and shook my head.

“You have a cell phone, right?”

“Of course.”

“So don’t you find it ironic that it hasn’t rung once
since we came to the loft?” He cocked his head and stared into my eyes, delving
far deeper than he had a right to. “Tell me what this is really about, little
one.”

“Stop calling me that,” I hissed. “I’m not your little
one. I’m no one’s
little one
.”

I tensed as Joshua clasped his hands on my shoulders
in a gesture meant to calm. World War III raged within and I had to force
myself to stare at his face and not cast my eyes toward the floor.

Shit!
His very
touch seduced my submission and threatened to reduce my walls to dust. He was
living, breathing kryptonite to my self-restraint, and it pissed me off.

Sucking in a shaky breath, I planted my fists on my
hips. “Look, Joshua, the whole Dom/sub thing isn’t for me.”

“Okay. I can respect that. But that still doesn’t
explain why you’re dressed and running out the door like…” He frowned. “Like…
I’m a one-night stand.”

Busted.
While I had no intention of making a love connection with him or any other man,
I’d established internal rules about one-night stands. Knowing I’d have to cope
with the onslaught of guilt afterward, I usually kept my hormones in check,
shying away from casual bed-hopping. Not the case with Joshua Lars. No, star
struck, I’d tossed my principles out the window and bedded the man without a
second thought about the consequences for my actions. Shame would come—probably
in the morning, if not sooner—and I’d have to swim my way to the top of my
remorse. But first I needed to find a tactful way to get out of there without
crushing Joshua’s fragile male ego even more.

“It’s not like that at all,” I lied…
again
. “I… It’s simply time for me to go before
my sister files an Amber Alert,” I replied with a forced chuckle.

Joshua’s sour expression didn’t change. Obviously he
didn’t find my poor attempt at humor funny in the least.

“So you say, but I still don’t buy it, my frightened
little bird,” Joshua challenged, stepping closer. “At least let me drive you
home.”

“Frightened? That’s crazy. I’m not the least bit
afraid of you.”
At least not
physically.
Emotionally, you scare
the
beejesus
out of me.
“Really, I’m fine. I
would never ask such an inconvenience.”

“You didn’t ask… I did, and it’s not an
inconvenience,” he whispered, inching closer still. “Let me drive you home,
Mellie.”

“Ah, I already called a cab.”

His body tensed at my rejection. “I see. When do you
go back to Phoenix? I’d like to see you again before you leave.” His words were
clipped and matter-of-fact.

“I’m… I’m not sure. Ah, maybe a week or two. Give me a
call tomorrow. Maybe we can arrange it before I go.”

Stepping back, I put some much-needed distance between
us. It was either that or strip off my clothes, release the bulge beneath his
straining zipper—
dammit, why did I have to look
at his cock
—and wrap my body around him again. No. I couldn’t afford to
do that. He’d crawl so deep inside me that I’d never want to leave. My only
salvation was to bolt for the door. Get as far away from the intimidating
artist as possible, and never go back.

“I will.” He smirked. Striding toward me, he leaned in
close. His warm breath fluttered over my ear and I trembled. “You can run,
Mellie, but you can’t hide.”

“Only children run away, Joshua. I’m not a child,” I
scoffed.

“No, you’re definitely all woman. But you’re
definitely running away from what you truly are, and we both know it.”

I opened my mouth to refute him, but snapped it shut.
I’d lied enough to the man. “Good-night, Joshua. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Spinning on my heel, I all but ran to the door.
Wobbling down the stairs trying not to fall, I raced outside, sucking the cool
night air into my lungs. Peering up and down the street,
goosebumps
prickled my arms and anxiety pumped through my veins as I mentally willed the
taxi to appear.

What the fuck?

Joshua had waved some Dominant magic wand and
presto—every emotion I’d buried raged back to life in a fiery conflagration of
confusion.

As a cab pulled around the corner, the sound of a
slamming door behind me split the night. I jerked a glance over my shoulder to
see Joshua striding toward me, the statue of the kneeling woman gripped in his
hand. His unreadable expression disturbed me.

“You forgot something,” he announced evenly as he
thrust the delicate sculpture toward me.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t thinking…
I
…”

“No, you were too busy running for your life.” He
scowled.

“I… it’s… a… so generous of you,” I sputtered, taking
the fragile piece from him. “Thank you so much for… everything.”

As I struggled to string a damn sentence together, a
ghost of a smile tugged his lips.

“I’ll be in touch with you
soon
, little one.” Leaning in, he placed a
chaste kiss on my cheek then stood back, watching until I was safely inside the
cab.

I gave him a little wave as the taxi pulled away, and
it took every ounce of strength not to turn and look back. Four blocks later my
heart stopped pounding and my breath evened out.

Dammit, how the hell
did you get yourself into such a cluster fucking mess?

“Prince Sheik Abbas,” I murmured, staring down at the
statue.

~ Six Days Earlier ~

Startled awake by my ringing cell phone, I sat
straight up in bed. The first thought that blasted through my brain was the
fear something dreadful had happened to my sister, Savannah. A rush of
adrenaline shot through my system. My heart thundered in my ears. Blinking at
the clock radio on my nightstand, the eerie green numbers illuminated three
thirty-seven a.m. A whimper of terror seeped from my throat as I squirmed free
of the twisted covers. Flipping on the bedside lamp, I squinted as I snatched
up my cell phone.

“Hello,” I answered fearfully.

“
Meelee
?
It’s Abbas calling. I have fantastic news.”

My shoulders slumped and panic slowly melted from my
veins when I realized it wasn’t Nick or Dylan—my sister’s Masters—on the other
end of the line. There was only one man on the planet that butchered my name so
brutally…the same man who had zero concept of time zones outside his native
country of Dubai.

“
Your
Majesty. Do you have
any idea what time it is in the U.S.?” I moaned.

“I do not think you understand what I am saying to
you,” he continued, ignoring my question. The lilt of his sensual velvet accent
soothed my jagged nerves. “I have wonderful news to share,
Meelee
.”

Scrubbing a hand up my forehead, brushing the hair
from my eyes, I blinked several times, attempting to adjust to the bright light
that filled my room.

“Yes, I’m listening, Abbas.”

“Joshua Lars is back!”

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, my heart
skipped a beat as I sat up straight. Abbas had my undivided attention.

“
Meelee
, are you still
there?”

“Yes, I’m here. Joshua Lars?” I repeated as a streak
of anticipation rocked through me.
“Where?
When?”

“
Sheecago
.
It will be his first exhibit in five years,
Meelee
.
Is this not the best news I could give you? I want his art,
Meelee
.
You will go for me and purchase them. Yes?”

“Of course,” I replied absently.
“An
open exhibit?
When? Do you know the date?”

“I have all the information you need. That is why I
called.” He all but purred in my ear.

“Why haven’t I heard anything about this?” A flash of
irritation ignited within.

“It is private. Joshua is only giving this treat to
his special customers. And I, of course, am his special customer.”

“Indeed you are, Abbas. How do I get an invitation?”

“I will see that it is arranged for you. Now listen
carefully. You must buy it all for me, Melee.”

I choked back a snort. “Surely you realize they won’t
let me purchase
everything
, your Majesty.
I don’t know yet how many pieces he’ll have up for sale.”

“There are many pieces,
Meelee
.
I have sources that tell me this. Joshua has…. how do you say? Ah… hibernating
since the death of his wife and daughter.” Abbas spoke softly, as if honoring
the artist’s loss.

“Which gallery in Chicago?
And when?” Yanking open the drawer of my nightstand, I shoved my over-worked
vibrator aside and snatched out a pad of paper and a pen.

“Christian Joyce Gallery.
Thursday...
next Thursday,
Meelee
.
At seven o’clock,” he
informed.

Christian, you little
son of a bitch! That prick hadn’t breathed a word of this to me. Oh, his frilly
little princess ass was all mine!

“Thank you, Abbas. I actually know him. I’ll call him
when the gallery opens and make sure I’m put on his guest list. Unbelievable,”
I whispered trying to wrap my head around the unprecedented news. “I’ll start
making arrangements right away. Is there a monetary ceiling you’d like me to
stay under?”

“Oh,
Meelee
.
Money is insignificant.” For Abbas it was. The man had more money than he could
spend in ten lifetimes, and wouldn’t that just suck? “No limit. Abbas will pay
any price.”

“I understand.”

“My heart thanks you,
Meelee
.”

“You’re welcome, Abbas. I’ll call you from the gallery
with a total.”

“No need. I took the pleasure and wired money to your
account so you can purchase many treasures for me,
Meelee
.
You will keep the rest. It is to show you many thanks.”

I almost choked in astonishment. “Thank you, Abbas.
That is overly generous of you.”

“That will make me pleased.
Now, one
last question.
When will you come to me and be one of my wives?”

I snorted. “We would fight day and night, Abbas. I
don’t like being told what to do. Besides, I’m lousy when it comes to sharing
my man with others.”

“But I would make you feel like my one and only,
Meelee
. You have special place in my heart. It would be an
honor to own you.” His voice teemed with seduction.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Being part of a
harem held as much appeal as a sardine milkshake. “Good night, Abbas. I’m going
back to bed.”

“Dream of me,
Meelee
.”

“You know I will.” I chuckled and hung up.

Wow!
Joshua
Lars… out of seclusion.
I shook my head. This was going to knock
the art world flat on its ass.

Climbing out of bed, I padded to the bathroom before
making my way to my office to boot up my computer. Four hours and two pots of
coffee later, I called Christian. With a saccharine sweet chastising, I busted
his gay little balls for not informing me of Joshua’s comeback. Christian was
contrite in a whining-groveling sort of way. After vowing he’d never leave me
in the lurch again, along with a promise to overnight an invitation, I accepted
his apology and hung up.

Five minutes later I had my airline ticket booked;
however, finding a room proved more of a challenge than I’d expected. Every
metro Chicago hotel was booked for some stupid festival. Squandering another
two hours perusing design articles online, I finally picked up the phone.
   

“Sanna?”

“Mellie?
Oh, how bizarre. I
was just thinking of you.”

I couldn’t help but smile. My little sister had
blossomed from a wallflower into a vibrant woman since falling in love with two
men… her Masters. A pang of envy pierced my heart. Never in a million did I
suspect that Savannah would be attracted to the BDSM lifestyle, but her total
transformation proved she’d found her bliss. She was no longer a quiet, shy
bookworm. Dylan and Nick had helped her break free of her chrysalis and she’d
blossomed into a stunning, submissive butterfly.

I
was
happy for
her; happy that her path hadn’t ended in a fiery death, like mine.

“Uh-oh, what did I do now?” I teased.

“Nothing, dork. I just miss you. You’re not packing to
go anywhere soon, are you? I’d really like you to come to Chicago for a visit.”

I sensed a hint of desperation in her voice. “What’s
wrong?”

“Nothing.
I’m just… it’s
nothing.”

“You’re what?” My over-protective sister DNA zipped to
high alert. “Did Dylan and Nick do something to you… something they shouldn’t
have?”

“Oh, good god, no!” she shrieked. “I’m just missing
you. After you broke up with Enrique I thought you’d come for a visit so we
could drown your heartache in a gallon of ice cream. But you never came… you
just got more wrapped up with work.”

“I got swamped with clients. Besides, I was the one
that called it off. There wasn’t any heartache it was mostly relief. He got way
too serious. I told you that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But you were with him a long
time—a lot longer than any of the others.”