Perfect Submission (5 page)

Her invitation means the world to me. Even
though women like Nicole and Lulu have shown their friendship to be
shallow and meaningless, Olivia is proving that I do still have
real friends left.

The cab pulls up at Cam’s apartment. I give
her a quick hug and then climb out, hurrying inside in case any
journalists or photographers are lurking around.

The apartment is silent. I drop my purse by
the door and look around. I’m right back where I started this
morning, with thoughts of the past whirling through my head,
impossible to keep at bay. I feel so powerless. Cam has his lawyers
and investigator doing everything they can, but there’s nothing for
me to do but wait.

Wait, and think about everything I’ve done
wrong.

I climb the stairs. Cam’s private playroom
is elevated above the main penthouse, the glass walls giving me a
view of the city at dusk. It’s so removed from everything, I can
tell why he calls it his sanctuary. There’s something so calming
about the space, rich with meaning, even aside from the toys and
implements that are racked neatly on the walls. In here, I can
breathe.

I sit on the floor with my back against his
chair, watching the city. I used to dream about New York when I was
a kid. To someone from Tallahassee, it seemed like the most
glamorous place in the world. I would read all the glossy fashion
magazines I could get my hands on– no matter they were out of date,
dog-eared copies I paged through in the library or in waiting rooms
– and picture myself here. Living a fabulous life, with my own
swanky apartment and a closet full of amazing clothes; eating in
all the trendiest restaurants and partying all night in the hottest
clubs with all the friends I’d make.

My dreams came true. Most of them, anyway. I
came here, I’ve lived that life. But being on the brink of losing
everything has made me realize just how empty that lifestyle was. I
spent so much time and energy trying to fit in with Nicole and Lulu
and society bitches like them. I faked smiles, and pretended I
cared about silly things, and all for what?

To be on the inside? To pass for something
other than what I am?

I feel a sadness welling in my chest. After
everything we’ve been through, they only see me as some worthless
junkie’s kid.

A killer.

“Isabelle?”

I look up. Cam is in the doorway. He moves
closer, concern on his handsome face. “Olivia called me, are you
OK?”

I exhale. “I didn’t have a breakdown, if
that’s what you’re worried about. Well, only a little one,” I add,
remembering how I sprawled all over the floor in front of everyone.
“Now I have to find another hairstylist. Except, I guess I won’t
need one in jail.” I try to lighten the mood, but the joke falls
flat.

Cam holds out his hands. I take them. He
pulls me to my feet. “Isabelle…” he cradles my cheek in his hand.
“It won’t come to it, I promise you.”

“Maybe it should.” I give a defeated shrug.
“Maybe they’re right. It’s in my blood, isn’t it?”

“Is that what those women said to you?” Cam
looks like he’s about to punch the wall.

“It’s what everyone’s saying. Online, on the
news. And they’re right.” I feel a knot forming in my chest, but I
bite back my tears. I’m done crying today. “I grew up in foster
care, and no one gave a shit. My mom’s a junkie jail-bird. It was
stupid of me to think I could ever outrun the past.”

“You’re nothing like what they say,” Cam
insists. “You’re more than that.”

“Am I?”

“Yes. It doesn’t matter where you come from,
Isabelle, it matters who you are.”

Cam leads me to the chair and pulls me down
on his lap so I’m cradled against his body. I snuggle into his
solid, muscular frame. His arms hold me gently, stroking my hair
with one hand. “You don’t see what I see when I look at you,” he
tells me, his voice so warm and reassuring. “I see your strength.
Your courage. Your beauty. Not the mask you put on to face the
world,” he adds, turning my face to look him in the eyes. “But the
real you.”

I feel a warmth inside. “I don’t feel
strong,” I whisper. “I feel like I’m falling apart, always needing
to be rescued by you, or Olivia, or someone.”

“Are you kidding me?” he grins. “You’re
stronger than you realize. You’re the one who convinced me to take
you on as my sub. You walked right into the club and got on your
knees. You wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“I was scared as hell,” I admit, remembering
that night. “I thought you were going to tell me to get out. That
you wouldn’t want me.”

He holds me tighter, and I feel his lips
against my ear. I suppress a shiver.

“I always wanted you,” Cam vows. His hand
slides down my neck, tracing over my skin.

I melt against him.

“I wanted you more than I’ve ever wanted
anyone,” he says, kissing my ear, my jaw, and down my throat. His
hand glides around, lightly stroking my breast.

I gasp.

“You transfix me, Isabelle. Everything about
you. I’ve never come so close to losing control as when I’m with
you.”

His fingertips brush my nipples, achingly
light. I wriggle against his lap, feeling the hard outline of his
cock pressing into my ass. Heat rushes to my core, I want him so
much.

In one swift movement, Cam lifts me by the
waist and pulls me around, so I’m straddling him. He runs his hands
down the front of my body, making me moan from his touch even
through my dress. His eyes flash darkly.

“You’re perfect,” he growls, his voice thick
now with desire. “Every part of you.”

He pushes up my skirt, reaching to brush
between my spread thighs. I moan again, feeling the light pressure
against my clit. “Cam,” I breathe, thrusting into his hand. “I need
you.”

“Not until you say it,” Cam commands. “Tell
me you’re perfect.”

I stop cold and shake my head. “I
can’t.”

“You can.” Cam strokes me again, pushing my
panties aside and burying one finger into my pussy. “You will.”

I clench around him. God, he feels so
good.

“Say it. That’s an order.” His eyes take on
that steely glint, the one that makes my pussy ache with
desire.

“I… I’m perfect,” I whisper, flushing. The
words feel so foreign on my lips. I’ve spent my life trying to
change myself: to be prettier, thinner, more bubbly, more blonde.
Yet here I sit, flawed and exposed, and still Cam can’t take his
eyes—or his hands—off me. Could he really think I’m perfect just
the way I am?

Cam unfastens his belt, pushing his pants
lower. His cock springs free, hard and ready. He takes my hips,
guiding me into position above him. I feel him pressing hard
against the entrance of my pussy. I want him inside, filling me up,
obliterating any bad thoughts.

“Say it again” he demands, bringing me down
on his dick in one thick thrust.

I moan with the feel of him, sliding deep
inside, so big. He’s waiting now, and I know I have to follow his
orders if I want more of him. And I do. “I’m perfect,” I cry, as
Cam lifts me up, then pulls me down again, spearing me with every
last inch. “Yes!” I gasp, as he finds that sweet spot, high inside
me. “Oh God, yes.”

Cam rocks into me hard. “Ride me,” he
demands, fisting my hair in his hand. He fixes his gaze on me, just
inches away. “Take what you need.”

I find the rhythm, lifting myself and
slamming back down, rocking so that my clit presses against him
with every stroke. God, it’s so good. He fits me, stretches me,
sending pleasure ricocheting through my body. “Master,” I gasp,
already so close to the edge.

“I’m here,” he growls. “Your Master is right
here.”

His lips crash down on mine, possessing me
in a fierce kiss as his cock impales me. His tongue surges deep,
his cock strokes harder. I feel his fingers playing with my ass,
rubbing against me as he pulls me closer to him. He’s everywhere,
consuming me, every part of me. I lose myself in the feel of him,
falling into the sensation until he thrusts again and I come.

He pulls back, his gaze fixed on me as I see
him come undone with me. I feel him shudder inside me, see the look
in his eyes as he goes over the edge. And at that moment, it
finally feels true.

To him, I’m perfect.

I carry Isabelle to bed. She falls asleep
almost immediately, but rest doesn’t come so easily for me.

Holding her in my arms like this just
reminds me again how right this feels. This woman is the missing
piece in the puzzle that my life has been. I found her, and now I’m
whole. Complete. What I told her tonight is true. I’ve never felt
anything like this before with any woman.

She is everything to me.

These past few weeks have only proven how
right we are together. All these years with my subs, the other
women I’ve dated, I was so careful to protect myself. Barricade my
emotions away behind this wall of self-protection and distance. But
I don’t have any defenses against Isabelle. She shatters every one
of my limits, pushes me past the edge of my self-control.

I love her.

The knowledge is almost more than I can
stand, because so much is at stake now. If I can’t protect her—

But I can’t think about that now.

I look at her sleeping, and brush some of
her hair aside. She smiles in her sleep, and I wonder if she’s
thinking of me.

I always rejected the idea of love, in a
way. I thought it would make me weak. Less of a man. Less of a Dom.
But loving Isabelle makes me feel stronger than ever. She’s showing
me what it means to be truly responsible for a woman, to hold the
power over her pleasure and pain in my hands: not just her body,
but her heart, too.

It’s humbling how much she trusts me.

This love is sacred. Something precious to
be cherished and protected. At all costs.

I pull her body closer. Cradled in my arms
with her silky hair on my shoulder and my hand on the curve of her
hip, I stay awake, guarding her from nightmares as she dreams.

I wake up knowing one thing for sure: I need
to figure out who this mystery witness is, and that means getting
the information from Brent. I don’t know how he’s doing it, but
every instinct says that he’s behind this somehow.

He can’t have me, so now he’s out to destroy
me.

Down the hall, Cam is fixing a perfect
cappuccino. He’s dressed for work, looking panty-meltingly gorgeous
in a suit and tie, and it strikes me again how lucky I am to have
him in my life.

He looks up and smiles at me, but there’s
still worry in his eyes. “I can blow off my meetings, if you want,”
he says. “Stay here with you for the day.”

As much as I love the idea of spending the
day in bed with Cam, I know he has commitments he shouldn’t be
breaking, not on my account. And he’s already helped me so
much.

I shake my head. “I’m OK. At least I know to
keep a low profile now. If I steer clear of the paparazzi and
society bitches, I’ll be fine. Promise. I just wish there was
something I could do,” I add, moving to sit at the kitchen counter.
I reach for a fresh bagel on the platter, and take a frustrated
bite.

Cam drops a kiss on my cheek. “I know it’s
hard to wait around like this, but your court date hasn’t been set
yet. Jake is hunting down information about the case, and our
lawyer is doing everything he can on the legal side, too. You’re in
safe hands, I promise.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” I
ask. “Maybe if I tried to talk to Brent—”

“No.” Cam cuts me off. His face turns dark.
“You can’t go near him, do you hear me, Isabelle? He’s dangerous
and angry, you don’t know what he’ll do. Better if he thinks he’s
won for now and lets his guard down, so my people can figure out
what he’s up to.”

I reluctantly nod.

“Good girl,” Cam murmurs, kissing me again.
“I’ll be home early tonight. I’ll make you dinner,” he adds,
trailing his hand down my body. He kisses me slowly on my lips,
before taking his briefcase and leaving.

The door closes behind him. I’m all
alone.

My mind races. Cam told me not to speak to
Brent. A direct order. But nobody knows Brent like me: he’s
dangerous, sure, but he’s also arrogant and stupid sometimes. We’ve
been stuck two steps behind the police ever since my arrest, but I
know that if I push him right, Brent couldn’t help but spill the
beans just to lord it over me. His quest for revenge could destroy
my whole life. But I won’t let him.

I can’t wait for everyone to fix this mess
for me. I need to do it for myself.

I feel a stab of guilt. Disobeying an order
from Cam goes against everything in our relationship. But how can I
sit around when they’re going to so much trouble for me?

If I can solve this, if I can get the
information we need, then this will all go away. Cam won’t have to
worry about me like this. I won’t have to hide out, away from the
press and all my former friends. He won’t have to spend all this
time and money on investigators and legal fees.

And I’ll be able to put the past behind me
for good.

Going to Brent now is a risk, but I need to
take it – for all our sakes.

I take a deep breath and find my cell phone.
I speed-dial the front desk at my old apartment building – the
apartment where Brent is still living, rent-free.

“Hello, this is the Dunsmore.”

“Andre, is that you?” I ask, recognizing the
voice of my favorite doorman. “It’s Isabelle Ashcroft.”

He’s silent a moment, and I hold my breath,
hoping he’s still an ally.

“Miss Ashcroft, are you alright? We’ve had
all sorts of people waiting around for you here.” There’s nothing
in his voice but concern, and I exhale with relief.

“Yes, I’m fine,” I say, giving thanks that
nobody knows I’m staying with Cam. I guess all the press and
attention has been on my old building. “Listen, I need a favor. Is
Brent home today?”