Chapter Ten

Will spent most of the morning wrapped up in plans for the Falcon Bar. During the last few years the bootlegger theme had been wildly popular, but it was time for the wheel to turn again—and he planned to be on the first wave of the next big thing. With the growing popularity of shows like the Chippendales and their various competitors, Will had argued that the women of this city were a clientele just waiting to be tapped. The bar simply needed the right balance between crass and classy, and patrons would come through the doors in droves.

There would be the potential problem down the line of employing men who fit a specific mold, but he—reluctantly—planned on bringing his little sister in for that part. Sara might be difficult, but she had excellent taste and he knew she would understand and help realize his goals.

If she could keep her hands off the men.

He sighed and sent another email. Hiring dancers was a problem for another day. Right now, he had the get the building back up to code, which was a herculean feat on its own. He glanced at his phone. He and Penelope hadn’t spoken since he left her that morning in his bed with a note and a pot of coffee brewing in the kitchen. It was a bit foolish, but he’d at least hoped for a text when she woke up.

After last night, he felt like he’d taken two full steps into a world he no longer recognized. He’d broken rule after rule since taking Penelope on as his submissive, each one easier to blow past than the last. There were good, concrete reasons to have those rules in place, but he couldn’t remember a single one right then.

He picked up his phone before he could think too much about it and called. As the line rang, he wondered if she’d pull the same disappearing stunt she’d tried the other day. Will grinned. It’d be a pleasure to hunt her down and repeat that encounter.

But she answered. “Hello, Sir.”

He closed his eyes, doing his damnedest to keep his body from jumping to attention at her husky tone. “I didn’t hear from you this morning.”

“I had to be in the office early—though obviously not as early as you. Thank you for the coffee, by the way.”

There was something off with her tone, but he couldn’t be sure without being in the same room as her. Easy enough to fix that. “Meet me for dinner.”

A beat of silence. “I actually have plans tonight.”

He waited for her to continue, disappointment and something like jealousy souring his stomach. Christ. This was why he held so tightly to his control—the second he let it go, everything went sideways.

Penelope rushed on, “I’m sorry. If I’d known we’d be in the middle of this… But I didn’t when I made the plans. My friend, Addison, started seeing someone seriously last year and I don’t see nearly enough of her. Tonight has been planned for over a month, or I’d just cancel.”

It struck him that she was feeling just as much out of her element as he was. Though that fact should prove them both idiots, it reassured him a little. He shook his head. What the hell was he thinking? They weren’t in a high school romance. She was his submissive. She bowed to his will.

And she was looking to him for permission.

He pushed back the strange concoction of ugly emotions vying for control. “Have dinner with your friend, pet.” He waited for her exhale of relief before continuing, “But I expect you on my doorstep afterward. And, this time, you will be wearing nothing but the coat and heels. Is that understood?”

“I… Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.” His gaze landed on his computer. “Are you in your office?”

Another pause, shorter this time. “Yes, Sir.”

“Skype me.”

She laughed. “It would be my pleasure.”

A few seconds later, the icon popped up. He hung up his phone as he clicked the link, holding back a smile as the screen changed to show Penelope. She had her curls back today, and was wearing an orange dress that covered her from collarbones down to her wrists. “Stand up, pet. Let me see.”

She didn’t hesitate, rising and tilting the screen down so he could see that it hit her around mid-thigh. It was entirely too easy to imagine sliding his hand beneath the hem and touching her there. As he watched, she inched the bottom of the dress up, obeying but taking her time about it. When it finally reached her pussy, he exhaled harshly. “Do you ever wear panties?”

“Not when I know I’m going to see you.”

The answer, as unexpected as it was welcome, had him sitting back in his chair and scrubbing a hand over his face. She’d planned on seeing him at some point today, dinner plans or no. It shouldn’t matter…but it did. “Knee on the desk.”

The angle was ideal for seeing her from the waist down, but he found himself craving her expressions. “Do you remember how you refused to touch yourself?”

Her hand shook. “Yes, Sir.”

“I found that incredibly disappointing. Do it now.”

She switched her grip, using one hand to keep herself bared for him while she dipped a finger into her folds and drew her wetness up around her clit. The barbell shone as she touched herself, little circles just the way he knew she liked it. He kept his hands on the arm of his chair, white knuckles preventing him from unzipping his slacks and stroking himself. “I have something special planned for you tomorrow.”

“You…do?”

“Yes. Which means tonight’s plans are up for debate.” He hissed out a breath as she slid two fingers into herself, thrusting once, twice, a third time, and then going back to circle her clit. “And I’m inclined to take suggestions.”

…

Why did he keep asking?

Penelope closed her eyes, but she had the image of Will’s impenetrable blue gaze imprinted on the back of her lids. He’d always seen too much, and now he was asking it as well—just like he had ever since this thing started. It had been easy enough to tell him what she wanted when his body was pressed against hers and his hands were on her. Now, with their only connection the computer screen, it was significantly more difficult.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him. Last night had burst through more barriers than she could count, and waking up to Will’s note and coffee he’d made waiting for her… It left her feeling curiously raw. She’d been considering calling him all morning, needing to hear his voice, needing to have his arms around her to stop the world from spinning.

“Penelope.”

There was no reprimand in his tone, only a firm reminder of who was in charge. He’d asked her a question, and he expected an answer. Which was a problem, because she had two desires warring within her. She wanted him to guide her into finishing what they’d started, following the desire coursing through her to its natural completion.

On the other side? She inexplicably wanted a damn hug.

It was stupid. That wasn’t what they were, heart-to-heart chats or not. The sex was so good, she should just roll with it and not ask for more, because the asking opened herself up for rejection. After the things she’d shared with him, she didn’t know how gracefully she’d be able to handle him telling her that comfort wasn’t part of the arrangement.

She opened her eyes to find Will’s narrowed. “Sit down, pet.”

“Yes, Sir.” It came out as barely more than a whisper. She sank into the chair, her legs shaking with the denied orgasm and the impending emotional turmoil. Though she tried for a carefree smile, it died before it became reality.

Will leaned forward, studying her. Seconds passed, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just stripped her bare and seen everything she was trying so hard to hide. “Don’t move.”

“What?”

“That was a command, Penelope. Do. Not. Move.” Then he was gone, ending the call and leaving her staring at her desktop and wondering what had just happened. She pulled her dress down, trying to tell herself that it didn’t matter. Coming would have been nice, but her body was so deliciously used from last night that one more orgasm might actually kill her.

Liar.

She sipped her tea, doing her best not to notice the way her hand shook. What game was Will playing? Was he on his way over here, right now? Her pulse kicked up a notch at the thought, even as common sense tried to pipe up and point out that she had a meeting in less than an hour with a potential client. His showing up would take valuable time that she should use to prepare.

But, lord, how she wanted to see him.

The line between bet and something deeper had blurred, and she felt like she was up to her chin in quicksand and sinking fast. The more she struggled, the deeper she went. But when she stopped struggling, things didn’t magically rectify themselves. She dropped her head into her hands. “You’ve gone and gotten things good and messed up, sugar.”

She was so embroiled in her misery that she almost didn’t hear the door open. Feeling eyes on her, she lifted her head and blinked, as if that would make Will disappear. “I have a meeting.”

“Cancel it.” He shut the door softly behind him and locked it. He circled around her desk and lifted her into his arms without so much as a by your leave, and then sat in her chair with her in his lap. She considered protesting, but the delicious heat of his body was already working its way into hers, and his scent wrapped around her, more comforting than any blanket. With a sigh, she relaxed against him, burying her face in his chest.

This. This was exactly what she’d needed.

She could almost hate him for knowing that without her saying a word. Maybe she even would hate him later, but right now she took what he offered and didn’t question it.

A frisson of fear tried to ground itself inside her. A woman could get used to this kind of comfort. Hell, a woman could get used to everything Will Reaver brought to the table. With his arms around her, she didn’t care that she might be blowing her chance at securing an important client, and she didn’t care that her assistant Curtis was bound to start asking questions about the Norse god who kept showing up and locking himself in her office with her.

She didn’t care about anything but extending this moment indefinitely.

“You should have told me.” He stroked a hand down her spine and back up again.

There was no mistaking his meaning. He’d told her at the very beginning that he expected her to communicate her needs, no matter how difficult she found it to do so. Out of everything she’d done so far, it was the hardest thing he’d required, the one place where she seemed to constantly disappoint him. She fisted her hands in his shirt. “I didn’t know how.”

“And it took me entirely too long to realize something was wrong.” Another stroke. “It seems like we’re destined to continue to make missteps around each other.”

“I’ll try harder next time.” The words were out before she had a chance to rethink them.

Will cupped the back of her neck, drawing her up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. “We both will.” And, God help her, but her whole body warmed to know he was going to try to take better care of her.

This isn’t forever. There are only three days left. Then it’s over.

She didn’t want it to be over.

The realization that had been brewing since dinner last night stuck in her throat. She wanted more than three days with Will. But how was she supposed to say as much? He’d very clearly laid out the terms, and she’d accepted them. If she changed her mind now and demanded more than he’d ever offered? He’d dump her before the end of their agreement.

“What’s going on in that busy brain of yours?”

“Nothing.” The word came out too fast, a clear indication of her lie.

He waited. Her heart beat faster knowing that he was content to sit there until she told him the truth. She and the other Dominants played at this type of thing, but they had nothing on this man. No one had anything on this man. She shifted, realized she was fidgeting, and tried to stop. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Still, he stared. She looked away. “I really would prefer you leave it alone.”

“It’s causing you pain.”

Which meant he wasn’t going to let it go until he had his answer. She slumped back against his chest, wishing it were easier to speak this truth now that she couldn’t see his face. His hand kept up its steady motion, comforting her even as he pushed her past her comfort zone.

She could tell him now, or she could tell him later. The outcome would be the same regardless. Penelope shored up her courage, and then laughed at the thought. If she were truly courageous, she’d get to her feet and put some distance between them. She’d tell him to get out of her office and let her work. She’d do anything except pull her knees up so she was totally and completely surrounded by him. “I’m reluctant to end this.”

His hand stilled. “Say that again.”

Could her humiliation get any worse? Apparently the answer was yes. She gritted her teeth. “Seven days seems like a very short time.” A very short time, and yet endless.

“You want to keep our contract past the expiration date.”

Not a question, but an answer was demanded all the same. “Yes.” She braced herself, waiting for whatever reaction came her way.

His grip tightened, and she braced herself to be set aside, but Will only pulled her up until she was kissably close. “I’d like that as well.” Before she could process this turn of events, he kissed her—a deep, drowning kiss that swept away every single one of her fears and left only need in its wake.