His Contract: Legally Bound, Book 1 (5 page)

Chapter Eight

“Do you want to break or should I?” she asked.

“I’m a little rusty. You go for it.”

The words “Yes, Sir” formed on her lips, but she managed to clamp her mouth shut before she said them out loud. That would’ve made things even more awkward, given how obvious it was that Jack was annoyed at being stuck with her.

Well, she was annoyed now too. At him, at how Damien’s training was drilled into her, at Nick for dragging her out and then leaving her alone with someone who wouldn’t even look her in the eye. God, what an idiot she was for thinking about Jack last week. She smacked the cue ball hard in her frustration, but she knew what she was doing. Her shot sent several balls scattering into various pockets.

“Nice shot,” Jack murmured, his tone approving.

Lilly hid her smirk. Pool was a pastime she’d grown up with. Her dad had a table in the basement, and had spent many an evening teaching her and Nick how to hold their own.

“Solids,” she declared as she sank another with little effort. When she scored a third time, Jack’s eyebrows rose but he remained withdrawn, his lips pressed together in a tight line.

Lilly frowned back. She wasn’t about to stand here with him and not say anything at all until the others came back.

“How was your week?” she asked. It wouldn’t kill him to talk to her. And a part of her wanted to challenge him. To see if she could dig under that gruff exterior and get a repeat performance of last week’s look.

“Busy,” he answered.

“Busy’s good.” Lilly scratched and stepped back. “I like staying busy too.”

“I gathered from Nick’s comments.” Jack put down his drink and began rolling up his sleeves. “How long have you worked at the firm?”

“Six months. How long have you been at Harvard?”

“Fifteen years.”

He lined up his shot, and her body went molten at the sight of him stretched out long and lean. Older or not, this man was
fit
. She would’ve asked if he worked out, but that was a stupid line, and besides, the flexing muscles in his forearms were proof enough that he did something athletic in his downtime. She watched as he pulled his right arm back, and caught a glimpse of a small arc of white that crossed his wrist. It was curved, raised and angry looking. Whatever caused it must have hurt a lot.

Jack scratched, and when he stood, he glanced down to where she was staring. He quickly jerked his sleeve down.

Lilly’s cheeks flamed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry.”

He looked away, shook his head and let out a heavy exhale. “No, I’m sorry. It’s nothing. Just an old injury.”

She blinked, oddly soothed once again by the soft cadence of his voice. It curled around her like a ribbon, making her knees go a little rubbery. A moment passed before Jack filled the silence.

“So,” he said. “Quite a change, coming from Illinois to Boston.”

“It was, but I needed to get away.”

Her sudden honestly surprised her. She blamed his voice and that weird, wobbly feeling in her legs.

Scanning the table for her next move, she asked, “Have you lived here long?”

“Massachusetts, born and bred. We moved from Springfield to Boston when Brady was little. He’s been following me around ever since.”

“We younger siblings are the worst, aren’t we?” she asked, happy to feel the conversation shift into more comfortable topics. “I was like that with Nick. I’d chase him everywhere.”

“My wife once joked that Brady would’ve come with us on our honeymoon if he could.”

Lilly’s stomach plummeted. “You’re married?”

Jack cleared his throat. Seconds felt like hours. “I
was
married. She passed away.”

An odd mix of relief and sadness filled the void in her belly. “I didn’t know.” She peered up at him. “Can I ask what happened?”

“Cancer.”

The grief on his face made her heart ache. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” He took a breath and exhaled heavily again. “So, why the no-go on the bar exam?”

Lilly stiffened, her muscles going rigid. “It’s like I said last week. I’m not sure I want to be a lawyer,” she said, hoping he’d drop the subject.

He didn’t.

“And yet you apparently have the reputation of a workaholic.” Jack looked at her quizzically, as if she were a puzzle piece he was trying to fit. “Something must have happened to change your mind.”

“Did you actually fool yourself into thinking I belonged to you?”

Hot tears pricked at her eyes. Lilly looked at the floor.

Jack moved next to her. “Did something happen?”

His voice was so warm and calming. It brought her back to the present and anchored her there. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Can you tell me about it?” he asked, but she shook her head. “Lilly, look at me.”

His tone hadn’t changed, but the timbre of his words echoed with a strength and confidence she couldn’t place. Without thinking, she looked up at him, and found herself unable to move, locked in his stare.

“Whatever’s haunting you, you need to let it go. I know a thing or two about being chained to your past, and it’s no way to live.” His gaze drifted over her like a caress. “Don’t be like that. You’re too beautiful to be so sad.”

For a second, she couldn’t remember how to breathe. “Thank you,” she said softly.

“You’re welcome.” He was looking at her so intently it almost made her feel naked. “I have to ask—how old are you?”

“Twenty-eight. Why? How old are you?”

“Forty-four.”

She smiled, happy to finally have that question answered. Jack smiled back and raised an eyebrow, his expression playful. “Does that bother you?”

“No—”
Sir.

Shit, she’d almost said it again.

Lilly’s face rushed with heat, and Jack’s eyes grew hooded. His gaze traced her cheeks, the shape of her nose, her lips, slow and deliberate, before meeting hers again. He licked his upper lip, and that slip of tongue made Lilly’s breathing quicken. She imagined what his mouth would feel like on her neck, if his stubble would rasp against her skin. The thought made her lick her own lip in response. It was a move Jack caught, and suddenly his gaze was no longer mischievous.

It was hungry.

“Geez, you’d think they’d have more than two stalls in this place,” Cassie announced, returning to the table.

Her arrival broke their connection. Jack quickly stepped away.

Lilly faced the pool table again, feeling like she’d lost a chance at something. She wanted it back again, even though her flying heartbeat told her that
something
might be better off left alone.

Jack closed his front door and leaned against it, as if doing so could shut out what he’d felt tonight. As if it could shut Lilly out. He’d wanted to murder Patrick for leaving him alone with her, and yet, during that short time, he’d forgotten how for the last year it had hurt to do anything more than breathe.

Hearing she was at least older than Josh was a small comfort. His age, however, seemed of no consequence. He’d thought she hadn’t read anything into the question, that the attraction that was driving him out of his mind was all one-sided, but Lilly’s blush said otherwise. As did the quick pass of her soft, pink tongue over gorgeously full lips.

Jack groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face, then looked at his scar. He could only imagine what Lilly would think if she knew where it came from, what kind of life he’d lived. The Dominant he once was.

He closed his eyes and saw Eve in their playroom, the two of them beginning their scene with practiced words.

“You are mine, love.”

“I am yours, always, Master.”

Grief shouted from the past. But the image was quickly replaced with one of Lilly looking up at him in the bar. How would she react if he ordered her to strip for him? Would all of her skin bloom with the rosy hues he’d seen on her cheeks? Jack’s mind traveled to a place where he had her bound and naked, telling her to bare everything to him—body, mind and soul.

Realizing where his thoughts had strayed, he tried to shut the fantasy down but it was too late. Lilly had flipped a switch in him, waking the part that had been buried under the ashes of Eve’s death. And now that he’d opened that door, he didn’t know how to close it again.

Chapter Nine

It was late into the afternoon on Valentine’s Day when Lilly finally glanced up at the clock. She’d been staring at her computer screen for so long she could still see lines of text before her eyes.

She’d spent the day poring over the Giordanos’ laboratory database. It contained a ton of information—months of data from the company that hosted their logs. It was nothing more than an internal logging system, but after hours looking at it, she felt like she’d taken the LSAT in Hungarian.

Lilly studied the column containing the random lines of numbers she’d been pondering all afternoon. It bugged her, not being able to figure out what they stood for. There were about ten numbers on each line, too long to be dates or social security numbers. The column was titled “MOD_dt”, which she’d tried googling, but everything she found was technical garbage.

Frustrated, Lilly turned toward the window. Snowflakes were falling softly, white laced with pink from the waning sun. Across the cement horizon, Cambridge and the redbrick buildings of Harvard camped against the Charles River Basin.

It made her think of Jack, and how he’d looked at her with burning eyes and told her she was beautiful. She’d barely been able to think about anything else since. The way he stuck in her thoughts was a complete mystery to her, as was her reaction when he told her to look at him. She’d obeyed his command without thinking. Damien had ingrained that response in her, but she didn’t know why Jack triggered the impulse. He’d confirmed his age, so it must have been his older, more powerful presence that caused it. Nothing more to it than that.

She picked up the dress hanging from the back of her cubicle and headed to the ladies’ room to change, slipping the sheath over her head. The fitted, ruched fabric clung to her body, a lover in the form of a little black dress. It hugged her shoulders and stretched out along her collarbone, the hem licking above her knees.

The dress reminded her of what it was like to feel sexy and strong. Confident.

It had been a splurge—a reward for procuring the summer associate position at Damien’s firm. She’d worn it the night he and her colleagues took her out for drinks to celebrate. Later that night, it was in a ball on his bedroom floor.

The sharp tang of memory made Lilly cringe. She could’ve worn something else tonight, but the dress fit the event, and she wanted to wear it. Maybe if she did, she’d be able to find that confident version of herself again.

Downstairs, Lilly flagged a cab. She texted Cassie that she was on her way during the ride over to Newbury Street and the row of brownstones where Nick’s gallery opening was, but didn’t get a reply. When the driver pulled up to the curb, Lilly eyed the line of people going in and out of the building. She could hear a trance beat vibrating all the way from here.

She paid for her trip and went inside. The narrow space was lit with hot track lights, dozens of people standing around in clusters of excited conversation and clinking glasses. Lilly checked her coat, slipped her black wristlet purse over her arm and searched for a familiar face among the crowd.

She wasn’t looking for Jack. She wasn’t.

A server passed by and offered her a glass from a tray of decadent-looking beverages. She took one and sipped slowly, relishing the sweet burn. Glass in hand, she concentrated on getting lost in the art hanging on the whitewashed walls. She paused by one of an elderly couple holding hands as they reclined on a park bench, completely absorbed in the contented looks on their faces when someone tapped her shoulder. She whirled around to see Nick’s smile, the tips of his hair turned to a shining halo by the bright lights.

“Hey,” he said. “I thought I’d never find you.”

“I’m not surprised. This place is packed.” She beamed at him. “The turnout is incredible.”

“Did you see my photos?”

“Not yet.”

Nick took her hand, drawing her to where his work was displayed, and stepped back to let her take it in.

His work was exquisite, each shot offering only a snippet of the moment he’d captured: a man’s hand tenderly cupping a stubbled cheek, two masculine fingers curled around one another, a baby girl being kissed on each cheek by two pairs of fatherly lips. They were intimate, quiet, the emotions reflective of the kind of love she’d always been proud to watch him celebrate.

“They’re amazing,” she said.

“You’re biased.”

“I’m right.”

“I’ve already sold six pieces. And
Framed
wants an interview with me.”

“Congratulations! I told you this would be great.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re a genius.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Enjoy the show. Gabe and the others are around here somewhere. I’ll find you later.”

Lilly watched him disappear into the crowd. She was so proud of him, but a tiny part of her was jealous. She wished she’d done something by now that he could be proud of too.

A server passed by, and she handed him her empty glass, hesitating before plucking another one from the tray. What the hell. It was Valentine’s Day, she was single and her career was dead-on-arrival. Drinking under those circumstances was a moral imperative.

After wandering through the rest of the gallery, she ran into Brady at the bottom of a staircase. A striking redhead she recognized as his wife stood by his side.

“Hey, Lilly. I don’t know if you’ve ever met my wife, Samantha. Sam, this is Nick’s sister, Lilly.”

Samantha’s smile was even more stunning than her hair. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” she said.

“You too.” Lilly tilted her head to look toward the second floor, where heady music pulsed. “What’s up there?”

Brady winked at her. “The sexy pictures. You coming?”

She glanced up again. The music thumped and echoed, the bass deep and intoxicating. She took another swill of her drink, then downed the rest of it and placed the empty glass on a tray.

“Sure. Why not?”

She followed them up the steps and stopped on the balcony, held up by a line of people streaming in and out of a room guarded by maroon velvet drapes. Cassie hurried out from behind them, lines scored into her forehead, lips pursed with tension.

The alarm on her face was quickly replaced with a smile when she saw Lilly. “There you are. Come downstairs with me?”

“Now? But I want to see what’s in there.”

Cassie looked from Lilly to Brady and back. “I don’t think those photos are to everybody’s liking.”

“Why not?” he asked. “I heard they’re hot.”

The curtain rippled and Gabe wandered out, grinning. “Damn straight they are.”

Emboldened by alcohol and curiosity, Lilly stepped toward the entryway, turning around once to smile at her friend. “They’re only pictures, Cass. How bad can they be?”

She pulled the curtain open, and her eyes adjusted to a room that was darker than she expected. Red and white lights hung from the ceiling, setting a feverish hue to the photographs spread out on black walls. As soon as she saw them, she understood why Cassie tried to stop her. They were frozen reflections of wrists held roughly down, of faces drowning in ecstatic pleasure, exuding the delicate balance of control and abandon found in dominance and submission.

It was everything she’d learned to crave and ran away from.

“Spread your legs. Show me what’s mine.”

She drifted toward a snapshot of a finger on an upturned chin, the owner’s other hand holding the chain to a studded choker. Lilly ran a finger along her neck, feeling the absence of the exquisite pressure of a collar.

Held down. Chained up. Fingers on her throat. Tongue against her clit.

Another photo, filled with the ravenous expression of a submissive on her knees, looking up at her Master with both desire and fear. Lilly had kneeled like that under the heavy command of Damien’s stare.

“I know how badly you want to come, but not yet. Not yet.”

She moved on, each picture tiptoeing through her memories and dragging them into the light. Hands locked in cuffs. A fistful of hair being grabbed by masculine fingers. Her scalp tingled, her wrists longing for the splintering pleasure of that leather embrace. A palm print painted onto someone’s backside, and ghostly sensation whispered across Lilly’s flesh, reminding her how long it had been since she felt the delectable pain of a spanking.

He gripped her hair, and she hated how much she loved it.

God, she loved it.

A dam collapsed. There was no denying that she ached to feel this again. Even in the face of Damien’s lies and deceit, Lilly remembered how, within the blinding release of his restraints, she actually felt whole.

Her trance gave way when Brady called out, “Jack, where’ve you been?”

She felt him before she saw him. The sensation of being watched drew her eyes to where Jack was standing in the corner. His gaze traveled down the length of her dress and back up again, his body taut and motionless.

“Here,” Jack replied, his eyes focused on hers.

“Uh, guys?” Gabe said. Lilly turned, and the effort it took for her to break from Jack’s stare was almost painful. “We should go downstairs. They’re going to toast the artists now.”

“Be right there,” she said, but didn’t move as the room began emptying out.

“You coming, Jack?” Brady called over his shoulder.

“In a minute.”

Brady shrugged and walked through the curtains. Cassie gestured to Lilly, but she waved her on, promising she’d follow. She didn’t want to leave yet. She wanted to stay a little longer and drink in the imagery around her.

She
wanted
Jack.

Turning to face one wall of photos, she felt his gaze on her. He stalked closer, until he was right behind her.

“Joining the others?” he asked softly.

She felt out of control, her body flying apart where she stood. “Not yet.”

“Still looking?”

“Yes, Sir.”

The instant the word slipped free, Lilly winced and bowed her head. It came so naturally—she couldn’t help it. But through the haze of humiliation, she heard Jack’s breath catch.

“What did you say?” His voice was gravelly. Husky. She didn’t answer—she couldn’t—and he stepped around to face her. “Lilly.”

He captured her chin with his forefinger and thumb, lifting it gently. There was a question in his eyes as they searched hers, and then his expression shifted into something else.

Something she recognized.

“I want to take you someplace quiet,” he said.

It wasn’t a question. It was a command.

It suddenly became clear what had drawn her to him. Why he’d stepped in and taken over her thoughts.

Jack was a Dominant.