FOK (Wall Street Royals) Page 11

  He took a seat beside her. “Tell me what you like most about being a submissive.”

  “Sir?” She asked, her eyebrows narrowing.

  He picked up a muffin and pretended to examine it while he spoke. “Do you prefer the service aspect or the letting go and giving control to someone else part? Or is it a combination of both?”

  She blinked and shifted in her seat. “I’m not sure I’ve ever looked at it that closely before, Sir.”

  “You haven’t? That’s unexpected.” He worked to keep his expression neutral even though her discomfort lifted his spirits. After beating himself up for the last few weeks, alternating between being upset with Celeste, and not knowing what to do about either, tonight he was finally moving forward.

  “Why is that, Sir?” Alex asked, and he reminded himself it wasn’t over yet. He had a little more work to do.

  He didn’t answer, but picked up a knife and cut the muffin into four even parts. “A submissive who enjoys service will often try to anticipate her Dom’s needs. But I’m sure at times she wonders how to do so if she doesn’t want to do anything without his consent.”

  “I’m -”

  “I didn’t ask a question,” he growled, and she stopped. “The submissives I brought up might appear different, but they have one thing in common. Do you know what that is, Alex?” She looked him in the eyes, but was more interested in the knife he still held, and didn’t reply. “Since that was a question, I expect you to answer. I have to say, your trouble with these basic concepts is startling. It makes me wonder if you have the lifestyle experience you claim.”

  “No, Sir,” she said. “I don’t know what they have in common.”

  “When their Doms ask a question, they only speak the truth. They are completely honest.” He took a bite of one of his muffin pieces. Chewed and swallowed. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He counted to ten before speaking, enjoying watching her squirm. “Did Celeste Walsh come by my office on your first day of employment?” He asked, daring her to look away.

  “I don’t remember the exact date, Sir.”

  “I’ll give you one more chance to be honest. What did she want?”

  Alex shrugged. “She didn’t say, but she had two containers of muffins with her. I suppose she wanted to give them to you.”

  “And you’re only now telling me this?”

  “You were busy. I told her she shouldn’t bother you.”

  “So you do remember the day?”

  “She came by with muffins. It was inappropriate, and she didn’t have an appointment.” She kept talking. Why? Did she think it strengthened her case? She was only digging an even deeper hole. “All I knew was she was that scholarship chick…”

  Her voice trailed off, and he realized she was staring at his right fist. He’d crushed the rest of the muffin piece into crumbs.

  He brushed them from his hands. “You recognized her?”

  “Her picture had been in the paper. She was the first female in four years to win the Murphy scholarship, and she won the year Barbara wasn’t in charge of auditions. Everyone assumed you either had fucked her or would, eventually.”

  He tried his best not to wince. Her words were everything he’d feared, but even knowing that, if had the ability to go back and change anything, he wouldn’t. Not one minute.

  Alex’s mouth had the barest hint of a smirk, and he knew there was one thing he’d change.

  “You know?” Her smirk was full blown now. “I think I want to take my resignation back.”

  She thought she’d won. It would be funny if it wasn’t so pathetic. “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

  “You can’t fire me for any of this. I’ll slap you with a sexual harassment lawsuit so fast your head will spin.” She crossed her arms in a take that move, daring him to try.

  He allowed her a few seconds of victory before washing his hands of her for good. “I have no intention of firing you for anything we’ve discussed tonight.”

  She was a smart woman. Her smile faltered. “That’s good to know.”

  “I’ll fire you for time card falsification.”

  “What?” Her voice shook.

  “There’s a vicious rumor the private exit on the third floor leading to the underground garage doesn’t have a camera, but that's all it is, a rumor. All those times you worked until nine at night?” He shook his head. “Not only did it record you leaving before four, it also recorded you returning right before nine, leaving you just enough time to swipe out the main door.”

  He would have eventually caught on to Alex’s deceit concerning her time card. But it was Celeste’s driver, who spent so much of his time watching and waiting, and his casual mention of seeing Alex at odd times, that prompted Lance to look into his assistant’s records.

  Alex stood up. “I think I’ll leave now.”

  Lance nodded. “I think that’s for the best.”

  “Getting rid of me doesn’t change the fact that you’re old enough to be that girl’s daddy.”

  That she considered her statement to be either a deterrent or an insult filled him with unexpected mirth. He winked at her. “Thank fuck for that, right?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Celeste decided London was her favorite city so far. It wasn’t because everybody considered it the orchestra’s home base. She loved the people, the landscape, the history.

  History had been her second favorite subject in school, after music. This was her first trip to Europe, and she couldn’t help but feel awestruck as she walked through places she’d only read about and saw buildings older than any her homeland could boast.

  It was one of the orchestra’s last days before heading back out. They had a concert tonight, one tomorrow afternoon, and right after that, they leave for Edinburgh. Several of the musicians who’d toured last summer tried to tell her she’d like the Scottish city better, but she didn’t believe them.

  She hurried along the sidewalk on her way back to the hotel. It was later than she had planned to return. She still needed to shower and dress before the group practice Mr. Danielson insisted on before every performance.

  As she turned the corner to reach the door, she noticed a man standing nearby. He caught her eye because he looked familiar, but it wasn’t until she grew closer she knew why.

  He was the man who pointed out her hotel on her first day in London. Now that she thought about, she didn’t think this was the first time she’d spotted him after that day.

  Her heart pounded, and she called herself all kinds of names for not paying closer attention. Damn it, she was a single woman walking alone in a foreign country. She tried not to think about the two thousand things that could happen to her in a strange city.

  The man took a step toward her as she grew closer. She stopped and held out her hand. “Do not approach me.”

  He did a double take, and she took advantage of his shock to slip past him and into the hotel’s lobby. She made a beeline to the front desk and informed the staff there what had happened.

  Trying her best to put the incident behind her, she went up to her room to get ready. Even though it was four in the afternoon, she still had a full day’s work ahead of her and she needed to prepare.

  Celeste felt on the edge for the rest of the day. What started out as a small bother during practice, grew into worry by the beginning of the performance. It had to be because of that man; there was nothing else it could be. She told herself there was nothing to worry about, but hell, she watched the news.

  Most of the time she liked that the stage lighting hid the faces watching from the audience, but not tonight. Tonight she wanted to see everyone in attendance and because of that damn lighting, she couldn’t see anything. It made her antsy.

  “What the hell is your problem tonight?” the second chair violinist asked her during the intermission.

  She cringed. “Sorry, I thought I was hiding it better. It’s nothing. Just personal shit.”
<
br />   “Get a grip on it,” he said. “You’re freaking me out.”

  Celeste nodded, gave herself a good talking to, and closed her eyes to find her calm. She thought she’d done a good job until it was time for her solo and she almost messed up a few of the pizzicatos.

  Not that anyone noticed, she thought with a snort, walking with a group back to their hotel. The only person she knew who might even come close to noticing would be Lance.

  God, she missed him. As she walked back to the hotel with a group of her fellow musicians, she could admit that truth to herself after being apart for almost a month. All the reasons she’d told herself to forget him ran through her head. They hadn’t known each other that long. They’d only been together physically the one weekend. The entire thing was crazy stupid.

  All the reasons no longer held up. She missed him. Bottom line.

  Back at the hotel, they all packed into the elevator. Everyone was in high spirits and full of laughter tonight. London was over and they’d be moving on tomorrow. The thrill of a new city and adventures wove itself around the group and into their conversations, infecting them all.

  Everyone except her.

  “Are you coming down to the bar, Celeste?” One of the young women asked.

  “No, I’m exhausted. I think I’ll call it a night.”

  They didn’t seem to mind, and they didn’t try to change her mind. Not that she wanted them to, she would be crappy company tonight. She told them goodbye and continued up the elevator to her room.

  Stepping off on her floor, she allowed herself to admit why she was upset.

  She thought he’d come for her in London.

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. She hadn’t had any communication with him at all. He didn’t know her schedule and likely as not, didn’t care to. Yet, even with that knowledge, she still harbored a dream that because they were in London for so long, he’d show up. He hadn’t, and it hurt more than she wanted to admit.

  Tomorrow, she’d get on the tour bus with a big smile and chat sunshine and rainbows with everyone else.

  Tonight, she would eat large amounts of ice cream and watch sad movies so she could cry and not feel like a loser.

  She unlocked the door, pushed it open, and froze.

  She always left the light in the bathroom on. Always and without fail. It wasn’t on and the only light in the room came from a small lamp on the entrance table.

  Fear burned through her body and her heart pounded somewhere in her throat. He was here. The man who had been following her. He’d broken into her room and waited for her.

  She tried to move, but got caught up inside her mind, listening to everything it said to do and yet unable to get her body to act on anything.

  Turn the light out? But why since he knew where she was?

  Swing her violin at him? That would break it.

  Put the violin down and run.

  Or just run. Hell, do something.

  What if he had people waiting outside?

  Maybe he was outside.

  Was he even inside, and if so, why he wasn’t saying anything?

  The knock on her door made her jump.

  “Celeste?”

  Lance?

  She had to be hearing things.

  The knock came again.

  “I know you’re in there, I just watched you walk in.”

  She looked around the room. Empty. Had she left the lights like that? “Lance?” She spun to the door, realizing he was standing outside.

  Hands that seconds before refused to move, now shook with impatience and fumbled with the doorknob. She pushed, and the door flew open, revealing not one but two men.

  Her eyes drank in the sight of him, but any sense of relief drained away the second she looked at the man beside him. “You.”

  “I apologize if I caused you any stress, Ms. Walsh,” the man who’d been following her said. “You must believe it was not my intent.”

  “You don’t get to tell me what I believe.” She refused to pretend like he didn’t know her from earlier in the day. “Who are you, anyway?”

  “Can we come inside?” Lance asked. His voice was rough, and he stood rigid and tense.

  “Sure.” She took a step back and to the side to let them pass, glad they stopped just inside and didn’t walk further into her room. She looked up at Lance and wanted to pinch herself to prove she wasn’t dreaming. He didn’t look at her, keeping his eyes directed at anything other than her. The thought hit her that he was holding onto his control by a thread and if he shifted his gaze, it’d be all over. Or, more to the point, he’d be all over her.

  The time away from him had not lessened her body’s reaction to him. Being in the same room with him, sharing the same air, made her want to strip her clothes off. Looking at him, she fought the desire to kneel at his feet. But his eyes told her they had a lot of talking to do.

  She forced her gaze to the man at his side. “Now will you tell me who you are?”

  He grinned and slapped Lance's back. “I like her. I really do. She has a lot of spunk, kind of reminds me of someone. Just don’t be stupid and let her get away.” He turned back to Celeste and held out his hand. “Ty Bancroft. It is a pleasure to finally meet you. Sorry for all the secrecy, but I needed to keep an eye on you and this one,” he jerked his thumb toward Lance, “thought if you knew who I was you’d run.”

  Celeste could only stare. This was Lillian’s ex-husband?

  “I let you apologize and introduce yourself,” Lance said. “Now it’s time for you to leave.”

  “You’re no fun,” TY said, but opened the door. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

  “Once or twice.”

  “Bye, Celeste.” Ty waved until Lance closed the door in his face.

  Though she had thought about Lance showing up in London, in her mind, they’d always skipped this part. They would go from the elation of seeing each other, straight to bed, somehow breezing by how they wound up in London in the first place.

  Lance turned away from the door and she knew by the look in his eyes that he wasn’t skipping anything. She should say something, but she didn’t even know how to address him.

  “Lance…” She started and then promptly stopped because he shook his head.

  “No,” he said, in the same rough voice he’d used with Ty. He took a step toward her. “No words. Not from you. Not right now.”

  One minute he stood off to her side and the next he was before her pushing her back, his eyes blazing with something she couldn’t name. She blinked and found herself against the wall with Lance towering over her.

  He rested his hands above her head, his lower body trapping her as he looked directly in her eyes.

  “You left me.” His voice came in a ragged whisper, inches from her face. “Fucking left me without a note, a text, or a screw you.”

  Oh, no.

  His lips claimed hers with a brutal and barely controlled power. She tried to pull back, but he moved his hand to cup the back of her head and drew her closer. He deepened the kiss, and she was lost. Lost in his touch, his power, his taste. This was more than a mere kiss, however. It was a claiming born from a sense of urgency and desire and something in her answered. Trembling, she ran her hands up his back and rejoiced at his shuddered response.

  Oh, yes.

  All too soon, he drew back with a moan, and even though she didn’t want to, she opened her eyes, not knowing what to expect.

  He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his expression blank. “You have a lot of explaining to do, little girl.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lance vowed before either of them left the room, she would tell him everything that happened from the time he’d left her in the bed that morning until she convinced his grandmother to take her to the airport.

  He’d know why every text went unanswered and every phone call unreturned. Why she didn’t send word to anyone that she was fine and uninjured. He wanted her to know and understand the implications h
er actions had, even if she had not anticipated those implications.

  It would not be a pleasant chat and he had little doubt there would be tears, but he had to ensure she knew his expectations and the consequences of not meeting them. She was not a newbie sub who needed to learn the rules. She was an experienced submissive who needed to know her Dom would follow through with what he said.

  Unfortunately, that meant he needed to keep her arm's length until all the talking was out of the way. No more touching and, for sure as hell, no kissing.

  Lance hadn’t meant to kiss her. Not at first anyway. His plan had been to sit down and talk like two rational adults about what drove her to leave without so much as a note.

  But then she’d opened her door at his knock and the look on her face had cut him right where he stood. It was fear, deliverance, amazement, and something so dark it had no business being near her, all wrapped up and waiting to see who was on the other side of the door.

  Hearing her call his name in a questioning whisper made his soul ache.

  And the way her expression morphed upon realizing it really was him? And even though she knew as well as he did that they had at least half a dozen things to discuss before they could think about moving on, she still lit up the world around her with her smile? He was only surprised he’d been able to keep his hands off of her until Ty left the room.

  “Before you say anything,” he said, because her eyes grew wide with a hint of worry at his words. “I want you to acknowledge I’m here and understand why.”

  Fuck. That wasn’t the right thing to say either, not based on the way her eyes grew even bigger.

  He tried again. “I’m here because I want to be and I want to know what caused you to go from my bed to an international flight in less than twenty-four hours.” He led her to the nearby couch, sat down, and motioned for her to do the same. “If I didn’t give a shit or if I didn’t want to understand what drove you away, I would still be in New York. But I had to come and talk with you because whether or not you felt the same, I was falling for you. In my mind, we were at the beginning of something new I was excited about.”