To Sir (19 page)

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Authors: Rachell Nichole

Tags: #BDSM; Multicultural

BOOK: To Sir
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But all he could do was picture her pale, relaxed face as she’d curled up in bed after he’d tucked her in. She’d been so exposed in that moment, it had taken all his iron will to walk out of that house and not climb into the bed beside her.

He wasn’t sure what had come over him, but he was neglecting his duties at the club. Yes, they were back open, but he didn’t think it would be for long. If the senator didn’t shut them down for good soon, the bank would. He still couldn’t believe he’d let the club’s finances get so precarious that they were relying on membership every single month to pay their bills. With all the security he and Dusty employed, coupled with the bar staff, the rent and taxes, the upkeep of the building, the maintenance on the toys, and the insurance, they were screwed. They were going to have to raise the fee
and
bring in at least 10 percent more members than they currently had to pay even half the bills.

In this climate, with the uninformed and scared population of Spartan getting whipped into a frenzy by Senator Johnson, membership was hard enough to maintain, let alone grow. He clenched his hands into fists. What the hell was he going to do? For a guy who prided himself on always being in control, he sure was sitting on his ass and doing a whole lot of nothing as his life fell apart around him.

He’d sent his parents half of what was left in his savings account yesterday after another failed meeting at the bank. He’d offered those bloodsucking bankers every cent he and Dusty had, and they told him it still wouldn’t be enough. He had to pay off the balance of the five-year loan by the end of the month, or the bank would foreclose on the club.

Chase shoved his cell into his pocket, grabbed his wallet and keys, and headed out the door. There wasn’t much he could do about the club right now, since Dusty was off with his lover and the banks were closed for the night. But there was something he could do about Liz. He folded himself into his car. It was one he wouldn’t own for much longer if he didn’t get his shit together, and saying good-bye to his car, his house, and his club all at once might be too much to bear. Just the thought of it was like taking a razor blade to the throat. At least his parents would have enough to pay off some of the medical bills. He could comfort himself with that. Right up until the point when he was asking them if he could move back in with them after he failed.

He drove with quick, angry movements through the city and toward the outskirts of town where Liz lived. He pulled into her empty driveway. Not knowing if the lack of her car was a good thing, he jogged up the stone path to her door. Whatever was going on, that door better as hell be locked. He knocked, listening intently for any noise within. It hadn’t occurred to him that she wouldn’t be here when he arrived. He banged harder on the door. No response.

He rang the doorbell, but there was nothing but silence inside. He took a deep breath and put his hand on the door handle. It turned with no resistance, and he swore. He opened the door a few inches and called, “Liz? Are you home?”

Damn it. If this woman were truly his sub, he’d have to tan her hide for once again leaving herself vulnerable. Hearing a muffled noise coming from the back of the house, he pushed his way inside and closed the door behind him, flinging the dead bolt.

He turned and almost tripped over a half-empty pizza box. The place was in more disarray than it had been the other night. Good God, she was a complete slob. He’d never be able to live like this. Everything had a place in his world—in his office, his club, in his house. This would drive him absolutely insane. Like in-need-of-being-committed insane.

He picked his way carefully through the living room, poked his head into the disastrous kitchen, then continued down the hall. As he got closer to the back, the noise got louder, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. He opened a door on the right. Bathroom. Cleaner than the rest of the house by a margin, but empty of Liz regardless.

His heart slammed. “Liz, damn it, where are you?” he bellowed.

Still no response. With shaking hands, he opened the next door, real fear building in his chest at what he would find. Liz sat slumped at a desk, fingers flying over the keys, mumbling to herself. Earbuds dangled from her ears and explained why she hadn’t answered the door.

“Hey,” he said.

She started, her head snapping up and her gaze searching frantically around the room. “What the…”

She pulled the headphones off. Her hair was disheveled, no longer sexily tousled but a tangled mess. It looked like an office supply store had vomited all over her desk. “Are you all right?” he demanded.

“I’m fine.” Her voice was already starting to heat with ire. Good. She’d scared him half to death, for crying out loud. Now his fear quickly turned to anger of his own.

“What the hell are you doing? You don’t answer your phone, you don’t return my messages, and you don’t answer the door, which was unlocked,
again
, by the way. I could have been any crazy off the street barging in here.”

“You’re not?”

He refused to be sidetracked. “What are you doing?” It was clear by the state of the house she hadn’t been taking care of herself.

“My job, thank you very much. And I would appreciate the solace to continue. So if you don’t mind…” She left the rest unsaid and replaced the earbuds. He was being dismissed? Not a fucking chance.

Chase stomped around her desk, barely avoiding a footstool that had been so covered in papers he hadn’t realized it was there. He half closed the laptop on her fingers. She glared up at him, and he tugged an earbud out.

“Go away,” she said.

“Not happening. When was the last time you ate?” he asked.

She shrugged, but he could tell by her face that she was thinking hard about it. That meant it had been longer than it should’ve been, and he couldn’t take it anymore. “I know this whole writing thing is your job. But look at you. Do you even know what day of the week it is? Have you set foot outside since I left you here three days ago?”

“It’s Friday, I ate last night, and I’m in my writing cave, so no, I haven’t gone outside. I’ve been doing a bang-up job of taking care of myself and having a successful writing career for a decade now, so I think I actually know what I’m doing. I’m not Susie freaking Homemaker. So what? You don’t like the way I keep house, don’t come here. Since you’re so versed in my unlocked door, you should maybe use it to leave. In fact, I’ll walk you out so I can lock up behind you.”

Christ, she was infuriating. She stood up and brushed right past him as if he wasn’t there. He followed her down the hall to the kitchen. She grabbed a half-filled mug off the counter and dumped the dark liquid down the sink, then reached for a pot of sludge. God, how old was that coffee? She poured it into the cup and put it in the microwave, all the while ignoring him. He advanced on her, but she kept her back to him.

He leaned into her body, placing one arm on either side of hers, resting his hands on the counter in front of the now beeping microwave. “Let me at least take you somewhere to eat,” he whispered low in her ear. If she thought she could pretend he wasn’t there, she had another think coming.

Her body stiffened against his, and he knew he had her undivided attention, if not her acquiescence.

“I’m not hungry,” she said. “And I have a lot of work to do.”

He nuzzled her neck, pressing a kiss right below her earlobe. She shivered, a soft pant escaping her lips and betraying her reaction to him, despite her efforts to treat him so aloofly. “I’m sure an hour-long break won’t be that big a deal. How far in the book are you?” he asked in between kisses. He leaned harder into her body until she bent forward, grinding her ass provocatively against his groin. He groaned. Three days he’d tortured himself, told himself he had to wait, had to savor the time until he would have her again, knowing he wanted her to come willingly. But he’d been too weak. He burned with the desire to possess her. She was wearing the least sexy outfit he’d ever seen—pink fuzzy bunnies on her shirt, and loose black pants, complete with bunny slippers—yet he couldn’t keep his hands off her. In fact, he reached up to thumb her nipples through the thin fabric of her pajama shirt.

She arched into his hands, begging for more with her body, even if she hadn’t voiced the words yet.

“Chase,” she whispered.

“C’mon.” He thrust his hips into her. “Let me feed you.”

“You play dirty.” She glared at him over her shoulder, but the heat in her eyes was lust, not anger. And he knew he’d won.

“Damn right, I do.” He slammed his mouth against hers, pouring all his three days of frustration into the kiss. Passion ignited between them, and he released her breasts to turn her in his arms. She kissed him back with as much fire, clutching the collar of his black shirt and holding him close.

Finally, he pulled back, breathless and painfully aroused. “Go shower,” he ordered.

For a second, she looked like she might protest. She rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue. Then she let go and stood back on flat feet. She padded away from him in her slippers, and he couldn’t help reaching out and smacking her behind. “That’s for leaving the door unlocked.”

She yipped and held her backside, glaring at him in earnest now.

“We’ll discuss ignoring me for three days later.” It wasn’t necessarily the ignoring that had gotten to him the most. It was the worrying, the wondering if she was okay, if she had decided she couldn’t handle the darker side of herself and run away, if she’d hurt herself or gotten hurt.

“Now scoot,” he said, cupping her ass and giving her a gentle push.

Surprisingly, she held her tongue and sauntered down the hallway. He followed her movements with his gaze until she disappeared into the bedroom. Where she would be getting naked. Again. He clenched his hands and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. God, this woman would be the death of him. A moment later, he heard water running and knew she must be in an en suite bathroom.

Needing to do
something
while she was only a few yards away, naked and wet, Chase turned to the kitchen and started picking up. He had to scrub some dishes vigorously to keep himself distracted. He cleaned like a machine, washing and drying dishes as he went, putting them away. He wanted so badly to be in that shower with her. Punishing her, fucking her, kissing her. Hell, just touching her. But her needs had to come before his own. And right now, she needed a hot shower, a full belly, and if the dark circles under her eyes had been any indication, she was also in serious need of a bed. The boring, sleeping variety.

When the kitchen was in some semblance of order, meaning he could see what color the countertops were and not every surface was covered in dirty dishes, he moved on to the dining and living rooms. He got rid of the half-eaten pizza and its box, a couple of other takeout containers and random trash. Anything he wasn’t sure what to do with, he piled on the sort-of-cleared-off table.

He glanced at the clock. He must be moving faster than he thought, because it hadn’t really been that long since she’d gotten in the shower. He went back into her office and unburied the few dishes on the desk. Her computer beeped, and he lifted the screen a bit. Battery dying. He dug out the cord and plugged it in. And he couldn’t help the way his eyes were drawn to the words on the page.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Liz demanded from the doorway.

He started, looking up. “I was cleaning. Your computer beeped. I plugged it in.”

She had a towel wrapped around her lithe body, and it took all his concentration to focus on her face instead of the way the rivulets of water ran down her skin, begging to be licked.

“Why are you cleaning? Nobody asked you to do that.”

“Well, somebody has to.”

His cock twitched as she stalked toward him like a panther. God, she was hot. And pissed. Her eyes snapping fire, she reached across the desk and closed the laptop with a
click
. “That is none of your business.” Her voice was like ice.

How could he take such pleasure in angering her?

Instead of answering that he’d wanted to take care of something for her, he shrugged. “I’ll bring these into the kitchen and let you finish getting ready.”

“I don’t think I’m in the mood to go anywhere with you. You’re
cleaning my house
, for crying out loud. And don’t pretend that you weren’t trying to read my whip.”

“Your what?”

“Work in progress. W-I-P. Don’t get too excited.”

Too late. The minute the word
whip
had passed her lips, his cock had sprung to full attention, his mind filling with delicious images. She rolled her eyes. He grinned. That action should piss him off instead of turn him on more, but damn it,
everything
this woman did turned him on.

He moved past her, lest he yank that towel off right now and find something in this mess to tie her down to the bed with. He was so fucking hard he could barely walk.

She followed him into the kitchen. “Seriously?”

He set the new dishes in the half-empty sink and turned. “Look, it was a mess in here. It bothers me that you live like this. You
have
to take better care of yourself. And if you won’t,
I
will.” He wouldn’t back down on this.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake! It’s fine. Stop cleaning. Go sit down or something.”

“As if I could find a clean surface on which to sit?” he teased.

She stormed toward him, her finger waggling until it almost touched his nose. “Now you listen here, buster. I didn’t ask you to come in here and tell me how to clean my house, when to eat, or how to live my life. I may have tolerated a bit of your attention the other night, but I’m a grown woman and—”

He silenced her with a kiss. She resisted, refusing to kiss him back. He wrapped his arms around her and crushed her body to his. He tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth. The more she fought him and his dominance, the more he wanted to pounce and force her submission. The past three days of separation and worry made him want to have her more, regardless of his reservations. He could have her, seduce her into this lifestyle one inch at a time. And as long as he kept things light and fun while they explored her darkness, as long as he didn’t get too attached, he’d be fine if she decided to run again. Pissed off but fine.

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