Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 149137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
“It’s always contractual. Always. Most people merely don’t see it,” she replied. “I like the idea that it’s all on the table. It’s one of the things that attracts me to the lifestyle. You should understand that I haven’t dated the way other people my age did. I was a studious teen and then I was an operative. My brain doesn’t work the same way. I don’t need you to pamper me or boost my ego. We can make this work by being honest about what this relationship is.”
“And what is it?”
“You’re my boss and I protect you, and we fuck like rabbits when the time is right. Oh, you’ll probably spank me, too. Other than that, I hope we can find something that resembles friendship.”
Friendship. He wasn’t sure about that. He had few friends, but he rather thought this was a woman who made them easily. At least on the surface. She would use that guise of friendship to keep the emotional stuff at bay.
He stepped back even though his instinct was to lean over and let his mouth find hers. No. He wasn’t going to give in to that instinct. They weren’t going to be friends. He wouldn’t give her the safety of distance. Master and submissive.
He had a sudden and deep hunger to peel apart her layers and find the woman on the inside. It was a dangerous impulse, but one he couldn’t quite deny.
The key was to open her up to him while he held that essential piece of himself apart.
“Again, don’t be late,” he said solemnly. “You won’t like the punishment that will come.”
“I won’t be, Joshua.” She turned and walked out, her feet utterly silent against the concrete.
As though declaring her game. She would feint and hide. He would pursue and find.
For the first time in a long while, he was ready to play.
Chapter Three
Kayla watched as the driver turned off PCH and made his way to Old Malibu Road. The Range Rover made quick work of the turn, a perfect California vehicle. It would be capable of handling the beaches that were to her left as well as the Santa Monica Mountains to her right.
She was surprised though at the turn. She’d expected to go the opposite direction, up into the canyon where the houses were huge and the security was simple. The houses in the canyon were separated by acres of land and high-tech fencing. The canyon and mountains themselves were natural security measures. Above, the view would be stunning and privacy insured.
But Old Malibu Road didn’t lead up into the mountains, and here the houses were stacked against each other.
“He lives right on the beach?”
The older man tipped his head. He’d introduced himself as Barry when he’d picked her up, insisting on taking care of her luggage himself. “Yes, ma’am. He lived here with his first agent for a few years and moved back in when she left the house to him after she died. He’s got several houses, of course, but those are mostly for show. Investments, I think he would say. This is where he lives. He prefers it down here, and honestly, for the most part it’s perfectly quiet. It’s only every now and then we get someone disrespectful.”
She glanced out, seeing the multimillion-dollar houses that lined this road. They would all have a front row view to the Pacific Ocean.
Like the small house she’d grown up in.
You’ll always be able to hear the ocean, Kay. No matter where you go. You’ll close your eyes and hear that sound and you’ll be home where you’re so loved, my darling girl.
Fuck. She was not going there. This was Malibu. Not Santa Barbara. This was a job. Not home.
She wasn’t sure she had a home anymore. It was funny because while her fathers had told her she would always be able to hear the ocean and think of home—and she did—it was the moments when their kind voices broke through all the crap in her head that truly sent her into a tailspin.
It was better to concentrate on the job at hand. She’d received a text that she would be picked up at five thirty at her hotel and that she should feel free to check out.
Everything was a go even after how badly she’d bungled things earlier.
“How long have you worked for Mr. Hunt?”
The driver was an older man, likely in his mid-to-late sixties. He glanced up, his eyes meeting hers. “I don’t work for him. I’m retired now and sometimes help out the members of the club with odd jobs. He doesn’t keep a driver on retainer. He’s a bit of a loner, that one.”
Cool. She felt more comfortable around a lifestyler. “Dom or sub? Wait. Let me take a stab at it. You bottom for your wife.”
He winked at her in the mirror. “For over forty years. Miss her like crazy. I don’t play anymore. No need to now that she’s gone, but I do like the camaraderie. I like that people remember Mistress Glo. That’s for Gloria.”