The Rules (8 page)

“Of course you won’t.” His brows furrowed. He shook his head. “Did I mention wanting you to quit your job?”

“No, but—”

“You aren’t quitting your job, Amelia. End of discussion. If you still want to quit after you’ve opened that last package on the kitchen table, I’ll be happy to oblige. But not now, not when I’ve just gotten you. I want you in my office. I want to know where you are at all times.” His hands gripped my legs and pressed them open wider. “I want this pussy naked and available, and I want to know that it’s in my building. We clear?”

We were so totally
not
clear. “Cade,” I shook my head while I spoke, “this is ridiculous. I would never dally with someone I worked with under any circumstances. And in this case, it’s too late. The damage is done. I can’t go back there. I’ll find another job.”

Cade grinned. “Dally?”

I rolled my eyes. Of all the things I said, he wanted to make fun of my word choice. I squirmed, fighting to scoot out of his reach.

He held me tighter. “Don’t move away from me, Amelia. We’re having a discussion.”

Exasperated, I lifted both hands and threw them in the air, causing myself to land flat on my naked back again. I spoke to the ceiling. “Nothing about this day has remotely resembled a discussion, Cade. You clearly run a dictatorship. If this is how you treat all your women, no wonder you don’t have a girlfriend.” I regretted those last words the second they left my lips.

In less than a second, Cade Alexander was on top of me. He straddled my torso, planted his knees on both sides of my body, and grabbed my hands to lift them back over my head. “Ms. Kensington.”

I flinched at his use of my formal name all of the sudden. And even though he was totally manhandling me, his body hovering over me, his face inches from mine as he forced me to meet his gaze, my damn nipples were hard.

“Let me set a few things straight. First of all, I’m a Dom. I don’t do girlfriends. I haven’t had a girlfriend in years.”

I winced.

“Second of all, just so you know, submissives do not generally make their own choices. Doms do not generally lay out a selection of options and let their sub choose. Now, I realize this is foreign to you. And if I thought for a second you couldn’t handle this, we wouldn’t be in this position. I tested you this morning. I knew already you were perfect for me. Hell, I knew it the moment you first walked by my office two weeks ago, your thick wavy hair bobbing behind you, your long graceful fingers separating papers expertly, a smile on your face that told me there was no other place in the world you’d rather be, that you’d hit the lottery when you landed yourself a job at my company.”

I tried to soak in everything he said. I pulled my legs together and squeezed them tight against the growing arousal mounting as his gaze penetrated me and he let me in on just how long he’d been watching me.

“I knew, but I wanted to be sure. My knowledge was further confirmed when we shared that drink Friday night. There you were in
my
bar dressed in your sexiest black dress, wearing those fuck-me shoes, and perched on a stool looking like the world was your oyster.”

His
bar? Of course. Did he own the entire city?

He leaned in, the inches closing as I held my breath.

“I knew you were submissive when I led you away from your friends without a word from you and plied you with my favorite Chardonnay.”

Yep, my sex could get wetter. He wanted me. Bad.

“And then this afternoon.” He let his eyes close for a second and inhaled a long, slow breath before he continued, “Baby, the look on your face when you got here was priceless. You were fit to kill.”

“I thought—”

“I know what you thought, and that was exactly what I wanted you to think. If you had shown up devoid of emotion and simply dropped off my purchases, then I would have been worried.” He grinned.

“Baby,” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “you’re mine.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he released one of my wrists and set two fingers on my lips.

“Don’t say anything right now. Just think about everything I’ve told you. I’ll get Arthur to take you home. I want you to search deep inside yourself this evening and take a good look. Think hard about how it makes you feel when you do my bidding. Let go of the anger and place your attention on the tight ball of need in your belly, the one that threatens to explode every time I give you a command.”

I held my breath.

“Even now,” he whispered, “even while you’re fighting a war inside your mind, your pussy is dripping wet. Is it not?”

I didn’t move.

“Baby, is your pussy wet?”

“Yes, Sir,” I mumbled.

“That’s my girl. And that’s what I want you to focus on. We can have all the discussions you need while I train you, but remember, the end result is always your pleasure, and mine. Submitting to me will open your eyes to a world of satisfaction you can’t imagine. That’s my promise to you.” He released my wrist and eased off my body until he stood on the floor.

I hated that I wanted to beg him to fuck me. That’s how aroused I was.

Cade tapped my pussy. “This is mine, Amelia. I know you’re horny right now and probably want to pull my hair out, but don’t act on that. Not tonight. Keep your greedy fingers to yourself and concentrate on what I’ve told you. Report to work as usual in the morning and do your job. Judy goes to lunch at noon every day for one hour. I want you to come to my office five minutes after twelve. Are we clear?”

I nodded. He had me under a deep hypnosis. There was no escape. And as he’d suggested, I wasn’t at all sure I wanted to escape.

Cade reached for his phone. “I’ll have Arthur pick you up.”

“Sir, that’s not necessary. I have my car here, and I’ll need it in the morning to get to work.”

He hesitated a moment and then nodded. “Okay, but please drive safely. It’s late. From now on, when you come to my house, Arthur or I will pick you up.” He set the phone aside and kissed my forehead.

My belly dipped. He was overbearing. There was no doubt about that, but his overprotective side was kind of endearing.

Chapter Five

I woke up gasping for air, my eyes instantly wide, my hand between my legs. The first thing I did was yank my fingers away from my pussy and stare at them in disbelief. Never. That’s how often I’d awoken stroking my clit.

Instantly, my mind wandered to Cade’s rule about touching myself. Not that I could be blamed for this one. I’d been asleep.

I glanced at the clock—fifteen minutes before my alarm would go off. I curled onto my side and snuggled under the covers. I was wide awake but had no desire to climb out of my bed yet.

I’d slept hard. Thank God. As soon as I’d stepped in the house the night before, I’d taken a long bath and pondered the day’s events. When my thoughts became a hodgepodge of no new resolutions on my part, I’d dried off and climbed into bed. Again I’d lain there, staring at the ceiling and worrying my bottom lip until it was swollen.

This morning I had a decision to make. Go to work and face this new world I’d fallen into, or hide under the covers and pretend my stint at Alexander Technologies never happened.

The thought of never seeing Cade again was more than I could stomach. The thought of
seeing
Cade again was also more than I could stomach.

The man was intense. His rules were intense. His expressions were intense. I had no idea if I could even begin to live up to his specifications.

But if I didn’t try, I would spend the rest of my life wondering “what if?”

Yep. I had to get out of this bed and get in the shower. I would need the extra time to attempt to shave. There was no way I was going to take the risk of stepping into Cade’s business without doing so. I would put nothing past him. The chances he would check to make sure I’d done as he’d demanded between now and five o’clock were high.

I slid from my warm cocoon and headed for the bathroom. I stripped off my tank top and panties and dropped them in the hamper. Cade had instructed me not to wear panties at any time. I’d struggled with the idea for about two minutes last night before deciding there was no way I was going to sleep naked. I couldn’t do it. Not yet.

Shaving was a task that proved far more difficult than I anticipated. It was impossible to see everything between my legs, and I needed a third hand to hold my folds apart. Not to mention I became aroused every time I touched my pussy anywhere. And when had I begun to think of my sex as my pussy?

That infuriating man and his words.

I managed, barely, and dressed in a skirt that reached almost to my knees, the longest one I owned. If I wasn’t going to wear panties, at least I needed the added protection. My blouse was also more conservative than usual. It was a deep royal blue and therefore hid my bra completely. This didn’t mean I wore one of my less attractive, more functional bras. I didn’t want to take that chance, either. I donned my favorite black lace bra and buttoned my blouse one more button than normal.

By the time I stepped into the office, I was a ball of nerves. I worried someone would be able to tell by looking at me that I’d spent the evening with the boss, letting him have his way with me.

Moriah looked up from her desk and smiled. She was just settling in herself. It was ten till eight. “Hey Amy, how’d it go yesterday?” She cringed. “Was it bad? I told you it might take you all day. I’m surprised you aren’t still out satisfying that man’s whims.”

I shrugged. I’d rehearsed this conversation in my head on the way to work. “It was fine. Not too bad. And I eventually got it all done. Thank God.” I rolled my eyes as though I were so totally over the incident.

“Well, lucky you. And the best news is I haven’t received a commandment from the seventh floor demanding your service again today.” She held out a piece of paper. “Margie needs you on four this morning. She’s overloaded. She was beside herself when I said she could borrow you for the morning. If you finish, just check back in with me after lunch.”

I took the page she handed me and nodded. “Will do.” Every attempt to behave like it were any other day was difficult. My mind constantly returned to yesterday. The visions of me lying naked and exposed to Mr. Alexander’s view would not abate. It was difficult to concentrate. It all seemed like a dream. People didn’t really live out experiences like the one I’d been through yesterday.

I stuffed my purse in my drawer and headed to the fourth floor with my printout from Margie. I spent the entire morning working diligently on a spreadsheet she needed straightened out. Apparently she’d had a temp who seriously botched the entire spreadsheet.

Margie was shocked and relieved when I handed her the finished product at five after twelve. “You did the entire thing?” She stared at the numbers on the printout I’d made for her.

“Yes. Isn’t that what you needed?”

“Yeah, but it took Shelly three weeks to create this mess. It took you three hours to fix it.” She smiled at me and set it aside. “Bless you. I’m going to sleep much better tonight. And I’m going to call Moriah and tell her your talents are once again wasted on the first floor.”

“Thanks, Margie. I appreciate the compliments.”

“No problem.” She waved me off. “Go to lunch.”

I headed for the elevator, my knees shaking and my hands fisted at my sides as I waited for the elevator to arrive. As soon as I entered and reached to push the button, my finger shook and I lost my nerve. I stood there for long moments, my hand hovering in the air. And then I hit
one
. I needed to get out of the building. Suddenly the air was stifling. I couldn’t breathe.

Moriah wasn’t in the office. Thank God. I grabbed my purse and made a beeline for the outside. I needed oxygen. I needed to clear my head.

I did not need lunch.

My stomach roiled at the idea.

Instead I walked. I strapped my purse over my arm and ambled through the streets of downtown Atlanta, gazing up at the buildings, trying to think.

It was hot. Hell, it was June. Of course it was hot.

I didn’t care.

I couldn’t do this. It wasn’t me. It didn’t matter that every time I thought about Cade my insides bunched up with need. It didn’t matter that visions of him hovering over my naked body last night made my mouth so dry I couldn’t lick my lips. Nor did it matter that I wanted to throw myself at him and toss caution to the wind just to know what it would feel like to have a man inside me with the intensity I knew I would see in his eyes.

That wasn’t me.

I wasn’t that girl.

I was straight-laced. A good girl.

My parents were so proud of me, they bragged to all their friends about my education and my job. Granted, they had to fib a little to make my job interesting, but they trusted me when I’d made this decision. From two hours away in small-town Georgia, they had no way of knowing about my day-to-day experiences. I could paint any lovely picture I wanted about my job at Alexander Technologies. And I did.

My breath hitched when I considered telling them I’d resigned after only two weeks with the company of my dreams. How would I explain that to my parents?

Yeah, Mom, Dad…my boss…well, he’s kinda into BDSM and he wanted me to strip for him and do his bidding
.

Ugh.

I kept walking. My cell phone rang, but I ignored it. Text messages came in too. I could hear the beeping in my purse, and it unnerved me. My girlfriends didn’t usually call me during the day.

Cade
.

It was hot, but the thought of him hunting me down on the streets of Atlanta made me shiver.

The man owned the company. If he wanted to get his hands on my cell phone number, all he had to do was ask someone in human resources.

I stared up at a tall building by my side, covering my eyes with my hand to keep the glare down. The mirrored walls made the sun even brighter. How did they keep the outside of a building so pristine? For a moment it almost looked surreal, as though out of a cartoon. The edges too perfect. The glass too shiny. The reflection too intense.

I dropped my face, feeling that perfection and taking it with me. Two weeks ago, I’d been that building. All the cards had lined up in my favor. I’d jumped up and down when I received the news that I would be working for Alexander Technologies. I’d gotten my hair cut and styled to perfection. I’d bought new clothes I couldn’t afford that hung in my closet in perfect rows, my shoes beneath them. I’d even had my nails done so that everything about me screamed “professional and ready to work.”