Traded for Love Page 12

  This is stupid, I thought, trying to dismiss it all. This was just a nice day out. I'll just have to forget him and move on. Nothing was ever going to come out of this. I was just entertaining the idea that … that … Fuck, what did I even want from him? What did I even want out of this situation?

  You were stupid, that's what it was, I told myself.

  I had to face the facts, I'd foolishly tried to plant seeds where there was not even a remote chance of sun.

  This whole escapade had just been a weak attempt at ignoring the truth, but it came back in full force now.

  I was taken.

  I was Jack's.

  And I had no right to enjoy myself, even a little bit, with another man.

  Oh, the damned guilt.

  A few minutes later, Drake tapped me on the shoulder. I stood up and avoided his direct gaze.

  “I'm sorry about your appointment. It would have been nice to eat these together.” He held out a small bag bearing the Savage Sweets logo. He'd taken off his apron, and I was reminded about everything that had gone on in the past few hours. I could see the coffee stains I'd left behind on his clothes, and remembered that I was covered in similar splashes of the bookstore's sub-par brew. There was an adorable streak of flour on his shoulder and a dab on his tan cheek.

  “I've got to go. I'm late,” I said, taking the bag.

  Even though I couldn't managed to look at him directly, I could feel him smiling. “I hope you enjoy them.”

  I turned and walked out of the bakery without saying goodbye.

  I didn't owe him anything, and he didn't owe me anything.

  And that's the way it should have been.

  And that's the way I thought I wanted to leave it.

  Good Dom, Bad Dom

  (Jack)

  I checked my watch as I heard the door open and close in the foyer.

  That must be Emily, I thought.

  She stomped up the stairs and passed the office without giving it so much as a look.

  Granted, I was home early, but I would have assumed she would have at least checked to see if I was in.

  “Emily,” I called.

  She halted just past the door and came back. Her face was red¸ though there were no signs she'd been crying.

  “What's wrong?” I asked.

  “Nothing. I'm just feeling a little hot.” She wiped her forehead.

  “What happened to your shirt?”

  She shook her head. “I spilled coffee on myself. That's why I came home. To change.”

  I quirked a brow, surprised she was even speaking to me considering the argument we'd had earlier. Even though I wasn't really sorry about what I'd said, I knew that if I apologized, it might smooth things over.

  I set aside the latest poll results and sat up in my chair. “Come in for a minute, would you?”

  She seemed suspicious, but nonetheless came into the office and stood by the guest chair.

  “I wanted to say I'm sorry for what I said earlier, about Katherine reminding me of you.” I tried to sound as sincere as possible.

  The surprise on her face was palpable. “Sorry? You?”

  I clasped my hands on the desktop. “I was in a bad mood. I didn't mean it. I hope you'll forgive me.”

  Suddenly, her eyes filled with tears. For a moment, she just stared at me. “Oh, Jack.” When her eyelids slid closed, black mascara streamed over her cheeks. “Of course I forgive you.” She sniffed loudly. “I said some nasty things, too. I never believed any of it.”

  “It was a stupid fight, wasn't it?” I asked with a smile.

  She walked around to the back of my desk and dropped to her knees, laying her head on my lap. “I love you, Jack,” she whimpered. “I'm so stupid sometimes.”

  I petted her head, running my fingers through her hair. “No need to get so upset. We're both just stressed out, you know? We both just need to relax.”

  “I just miss you so much,” she sobbed. I felt her tears sink through my pants and onto my skin. “I'm just so lost and confused. I'm so lonely.”

  “I know I'm busy with the campaign.” I lifted her chin. “That's why I came home early today, because I thought it would be nice to have a day off with just you, me, and Katherine. What do you think?”

  “Oh, Jack, do you mean it?” More tears streamed from her eyes. “I would love that.”

  “Good. Go and get changed out of that stained shirt, and get the baby ready. I'll tell Dante to gas up the car.” I wiped her tears, just like any good husband should.

  She smiled and kissed my hand, then got up to obey my orders.

  It was amazing what a few loving words could do for her. She was susceptible to me, which is exactly the way I wanted things today.

  Soon, we all set out in the back of the limo, heading over the bridge to Rockefeller Center. I sat beside Katherine's car-seat. She stared at me almost the whole time, as though she didn't know me. I reached my finger out to her and she eyed it skeptically.

  “She's probably a little tired,” Emily said, fidgeting with the neckline of her blouse. “I had to wake her up to get her ready.”

  Katherine's penetrating gaze was disconcerting. She really looked a lot like Emily, except my wife's look was far more trusting. Katherine looked as though she could see right through me, and she did not approve. I was determined never to garner that look from her again, though I knew it was a long-shot. I knew I wasn't a very attentive father. There would no doubt be many times in her life when she and I didn't see eye-to-eye, or when we frustrated each other.

  The rest of the ride was fairly quiet, but as soon as the limo door opened onto the sidewalk of west 8th street, the silence was sucked out, and replaced by the noise of people and cars. I helped Emily take Katherine out of her seat and we stepped out onto the sidewalk.

  We were in front of the Michael Kors store. I buttoned my blazer as Dante approached with our stroller. “Stay in the area, please, Dante,” I said, giving a crisp hundred-dollar-bill from my wallet.

  “Yes, sir,” he said, taking the bill and closing the limo door behind us. I took the baby from Emily and got her into the stroller.

  When I turned, I saw Emily look up at the store's sign. Her face changed from relaxed to horrified. She let out a barely audible, “Fuck.”

  I rested a hand on her back. “What is it?”

  She blinked rapidly and seemed to snap back to herself. “Oh! Nothing. I just realized I … forgot my purse … at home.”

  “Good thing we're here, then.” I wiggled my eyebrows at her.

  She giggled. “Oh, gosh. I have enough purses.”

  “There's no such thing as a woman with enough purses,” I corrected. “Come on. Let's go in.”

  With that, I swept her inside, pushing the stroller for her so her hands were free to shop.

  She drifted from shelf to counter and back, eyeballing several bags. I busied myself at the counter, looking at the baubles under the glass.

  As I rounded a corner, Katherine began to cry.

  The sound grated on my nerves.

  I went around in front of the stroller and crouched low. “What is it?” Her face was red and wet. I reached out for her hand, but she wrenched it from my fingers and pounded her fists on the sides of her seat. “Katherine, stop crying.”

  She only screamed louder.

  “Katherine!” I shouted impatiently.

  Her screams stopped as she snapped to attention, her eyes wide in shock.

  For a moment, I thought perhaps I shouldn't have raised my voice at her. Instead of happiness or willful obedience, she seemed more afraid of me than anything else. I stood upright, staring down at her. Her body trembled with sobs.

  I was unsure of how to correct what I'd done, and confused as to whether I should.

  After all, she'd stopped crying.

  “Good girl,” I said, moistening my chapped lips.

  Turning on my heels, I surveyed the outlet to see where Emily had wandered off to.

  She had
two bags in her hands and was casting her gaze between them.

  I walked up behind her and leaned over her shoulder. “Why not get both?”

  She snickered. “Both seems a little much.”

  “Nothing is too much for my girl.” I kissed her cheek. “Go on. Treat yourself. I know you don't shop that often. I've got too much money for you to have to choose.”

  She laughed. “Okay, Mister Money-bags. I'll get both.”

  We walked up to the counter and had the clerk ring up our purchase.

  Buying her things felt good. I knew there was very little I could do to make her married life happier. There were worse things than spending the millions that sat in the bank on her. I had to keep her in style and happy, after all.

  After a trip to Facçonnable, I'd forced her to buy six-thousand dollars’ worth of clothes. She came out of Olympic Tower with a new pair of Jimmy Choos. I wasn't nearly finished, though.

  I called Dante back and we climbed into the car.

  Emily changed Katherine's diaper in the back seat.

  “I'm hungry after all that walking,” she said, easing against her seat with a smile.

  “Then we'll have to have some dinner. But, first, we have one more place to go.” I pulled out my phone and looked around on my navigation app.

  “Where?”

  “You'll see,” I said with a smile.

  I tapped the partition and Dante rolled it down.

  “East fifty-seventh and fifth, please, Dante.”

  “Right away.” He rolled the partition up.

  “What's at fifty-seventh and fifth?” Emily asked, quirking a brow at me.

  “You'll see when we get there.” I chuckled and looked over at the baby. She was fast asleep in her car-seat. “We should have Dante take her home to Donna. We can have dinner together on our own.”

  She reached out and adjusted Katherine's shoe, which had been knocked askew during the diaper change. “That might be good. We did interrupt her nap.”

  We rolled up to the corner and Dante opened the door for us.

  I got out and helped Emily to her feet. “Dante, please so kind as to take the baby home. She's asleep. I will send Donna a message to be ready for her at the door.”

  “Yes, sir.” He packed back into the car and was off.

  Emily looked up and down the street, having no idea that she had her back to the store I intended to take her into.

  I spun her.

  Her eyes widened. “No, Jack.”

  “I wanted to close out the day with something really special.” I ushered her into Tiffany & Co.

  “This is too much,” she said, her hand over her mouth.

  “No, it's not,” I whispered in her ear.

  We were immediately greeted by a gentleman in a dapper suit. “Good afternoon. My name is Angelo. Would you like some assistance in finding a particular item today?”

  “I think we would like to see your diamond rings,” I said.

  “Diamond … rings?” She was so stunned, that the sentence broke with the impact like glass. I loved the look on her face.

  The salesman talked as we walked. “You'll want to come this way. We've just gotten a new shipment of beautiful settings, if you're looking for something new. If you're going for a more classic style, we also have our Tiffany setting. Our diamonds are set in a variety of metals from silver to eighteen-karat gold and platinum.”

  Emily looked like she had the breath knocked out of her as we sat down at a diamond rings counter. There were any number of them in the case, none of which she was prepared to choose from.

  “What about that one there?” I pointed to a three-stone ring with all manner of cuts set in platinum.

  “That is one of my favorites,” Angelo said. “The center stone is an ascher-cut diamond at around two carats. It is an ideal-cut, D-color, VVS1-clarity stone. Truly one of the prettiest stones we have in the case,” he gushed. “Would you like to try it on?”

  Emily coughed. “It's bigger than my engagement ring.”

  “Think of it as an early anniversary present,” I said, putting an arm around her. “Try it on.”

  She took off her wedding set, and slid the platinum sparkler on in its place. She gawked at it for a few minutes.

  “What do you think?” I asked.

  “It's breathtaking.” She turned her hand so flashes of light bounced off the ring and into her eyes.

  “We'll take it,” I said.

  “Wait!” Emily piped up. “How … much is this?”

  “$49,650,” he said.

  “Jack. No.” Emily took the ring off and set it on the glass.

  “It's a gift, Emily. The money means nothing to me. You mean everything.” I had no idea whether she could tell if I was lying or not. I tried to sound as believable as possible. Hell, even I wanted to believe it. I'd wanted to believe it since I chose her as my wife, but I'd never been able to convince myself she really meant everything.

  “Why don't you think about it first?” She was looking into my eyes so earnestly, with such worry about the expense. Silly Emily.

  “I don't need to think about it. I want you to have it.” I picked up and held the ring in front of her hand. “I want you to wear it out of the store, and everywhere else you go.”

  She swallowed hard and put her hand out cautiously. I slipped the ring on, just as I had put the wedding band on the day we were married, on the day I'd promised her the love I could never give her.

  A tear slid down her cheek and she threw her arms around me. “I love you, Jack Duncan. I love you.”

  I hugged her back, turning my eyes to the clerk. “We'll take a platinum and diamond band to go with it, please.”

  (Hours Later)

  When I pulled up to Julia's town-home, she was waiting on the porch. Even though it was unseasonably chilly, and the skies were threatening to pour, she wore a short, red dress and black pumps.

  I unlocked the door for her and she got in.

  “Are you wearing the device?” I asked.

  She braced her arm on the window sill, not answering at first.

  “How long is this going to go on?” she asked abruptly.

  I grit my teeth and looked at the road. “This? Go on?”

  “How often are you going to trade me?” There was so much poison in her voice that I hardly recognized it.

  “Don't you take that tone with me, slut,” I barked. “Don't act like you didn't like what happened last time.”

  “I only liked the end.” She stared at the sidewalk as the rain came down.

  “Did you wear the device or not?” I didn't like the way she was acting. She really didn't want to push me further.

  “What's the point?” she mumbled.

  “The point is, it was an order. Go back inside and put it on,” I ordered.

  Her head spun so her eyes, dark with anger bore into mine. “Put it on her!”

  I grabbed her throat and pinned her against the seat's headrest. “Don't you raise your fucking voice at me. Don't you dare!” I leaned in and crushed my mouth against hers. She moaned in the kiss and I felt a shudder pass through her body. I backed up. “Horny, aren't you bitch? Is that why you didn't wear it? You hoped I'd fuck you, is that it?”

  “No!” She gasped frantically for breath, with both excitement and possibly fear. I hadn't been rough with her in a long time.

  “You want this. You want all this shit, don't you?” I shoved my hands between her thighs. “Open your fucking legs for me. Open that cunt for me,” I ordered, looking directly into her eyes.

  She spread her legs in the seat. “For not listening to my instructions, you're going to suffer. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Master,” she moaned, writhing in the seat.

  I slid my hand up to her pussy and nudged her apart with my fingertips. I slid a one inside her. She was already wet for me. I began pumping, thrusting full lengths in fast and hard. Before long, there were two, then three fingers plunging into her.

&nb
sp; She was eating it up. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as I brought her closer and closer to the edge.

  “I dare you to come without permission. If you do, it'll be the last time for months,” I threatened. “Go ahead and test it.” I smiled maniacally. “Feels good, doesn't it, my little whore? Are you going to come, while your master finger-fucks your pussy in the middle of the street where anybody could see? Hm?”

  I closed my hand around her throat a little tighter. Her face turned red as her gasps grew more pronounced.

  “Don't you dare come!” I yelled.

  When I felt her starting to clench, I quickly pulled my hand away.

  I watched her suffer the unspent orgasm as I got a tissue out of the glove box.

  Her thigh muscles twitched as she breathed deep and slow.

  “I should have brought you to the edge four or five more times, but we're already late.” I threw the tissue into her lap and put the car in drive. “I'll let you go without it for tonight, but if you ever leave the house without it on again, you'll get the whipping of your life. Understand?”

  She groaned. “Please … ”

  Audacious of her to beg to come, but there was no way after what she'd done. She thought by looking pitiful she'd get mercy. I smirked, not bothering to reply to her request. “Answer me, slave.”

  She tugged the hem of her dress down to her knees. “Yes, Master.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “I … I understand the consequences.” She leaned her head against the window.

  “Good. And you're not allowed to come for anyone else either,” I made sure to point out.

  “Yes, sir,” she said quietly.

  We drove in silence and reached the club before too long. Just as before, we were given masks. Julia declined hers. I didn't care either way. She wasn't the one who needed to remain anonymous.

  At the bottom of the stairs, we were greeted with the same smells and sights as the previous night. Immediately I searched the room for her, with no luck.

  “Drinks,” I said to Julia, snapping my fingers. She went in the direction of the bar without a word.

  I sat at the same couch as the previous night, hoping she'd come out of a side door somewhere.

  She has to be here, I thought, tapping my toes impatiently.