The Submission of Alistair Ingram (15 page)

He
lifted his glass and clinked it against hers. “I haven’t had much time to think
about my career since yesterday afternoon. My mind’s been engrossed elsewhere.”
He winked, and her smile grew wider. He watched her over the rim of his glass
as they each took a sip. “Cozumel is not out, just delayed for maybe a week.
But I will have you alone on the beach. At night. Under the moon. In the wet
sand.”

She
squirmed in her chair, and he knew the image he planted in her imagination was
getting to her. “I’m hungry for dessert,” she said, pushing her plate away.

“What
will you be having?”

Bethany
leaned over the table, and she watched as she drew a lazy line down the top of
his hand with a red fingernail. “Hmm…I have a craving for bananas foster.” Her
eyes darted up to meet his. “And you.”

Alistair
grabbed his cell phone and texted his driver to bring the S.U.V. around. “I
hope you’re planning on whipped cream on top. I know I am.”

*
* *

Alistair
backed Bethany into his bedroom, and the two of them undressed in a frenzy. She
couldn’t wait to have his bare skin pressed against hers again. Now that the
wall that had separated her from intimacy for the past ten years was torn down,
it was all she could do tonight to not throw herself at his feet and beg him
not to make her leave the bedroom for dinner. Somehow, she’d made it through.

“We
forgot the whipped cream,” he said, his lips sliding up her neck.

“I
don’t care.” Her breath caught as his hands grasped her breasts and pinched her
nipples. She had to have him and wouldn’t wait one more second. “I want you
inside me,” she said, her voice husky with need. Bethany wrapped her legs
around him and rolled her hips against his. “Please.”

“Anything
you want,” he said, shifting to find her entrance.

The
feel of him, hard and hot against her had Bethany writhing under him, arching
her back in anticipation. With one hard thrust, he filled her. She cried out and
clutched his shoulders, greedy for more. He’d released the wanton woman inside
her and now she’d never get enough.

“Faster,”
she pleaded. “Harder.”

Alistair
grasped her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the bed. Standing, he pulled
her butt up off the mattress and hooked his arms around her legs. He touched
some secret spot inside of her that released sparks of magic through her entire
body. She couldn’t feel her fingers or toes, or any part of her except where he
pumped sensations of ecstasy into her. “G-God!” she cried, barely able to form
thought, let alone words.

The
sound of wetness and skin coming together and the smell of sex made her even
hotter. She felt herself squeezing him tighter, beginning to throb around him.

“You
feel so fucking good,” Alistair said, groaning.

She
slipped her fingers through her wet folds, spreading two of them wide around
his cock where it entered her. She wanted to feel him—feel them coming
together.  Her V’d fingers stroked him, and her palm rubbed against her clit,
taking them both to the brink.

“I’m
going to come,” she said, grasping at his muscled stomach. “Come with me.”

He
groaned and threw his head back in answer. The feel of him pulsing inside her
threw her over the edge into pure bliss. Wave after wave rolled through her.
Time stopped as the pleasure mounted, and she never wanted it to start again.

As
her orgasm finally ebbed, she opened her eyes. Alistair was staring down at her
with an indiscernible expression on his beautiful face. “What?” she whispered.

He
shook his head and smiled slightly. “You’ve ruined me for any other woman.”

All
she could think of was kissing him, over and over and never stopping. “Come
here.” She crooked her finger, desperate for his mouth on hers.

He
leaned down slowly, tilting his head, his lips whisper close.

Bethany’s
cell phone rang.

Master
and Servant.

Home
Is Where The
Heart
Hell Is

Bethany
froze, stiff underneath Alistair. Her heart thudded in her chest. Her eyes
widened, finding his.

“I’m
answering it,” he said, crawling off of her.

“No!”
Up on her knees, she grappled with him, grasping for his arm, but he was too
strong to hold.

Across
the room in two strides, Alistair whisked her phone out of her suitcase and
jabbed the answer button. “Has anyone ever told you to fuck off?”

Bethany
wrapped her arms around her knees and held her breath as he began to pace the
room.

“None
of your
fucking
business who I am. You will never call this number
again. If you do, I promise you will be in a world of fucking pain my man.”

He
stopped and let out a derisive chuckle as he ran his hand through his hair.
“No, I’m not her new Dom. She’s done with that shit.”

Alistair’s
face darkened, making Bethany’s stomach roll. God only knew what was being said
on the other end of that phone conversation.

Suddenly,
Alistair ripped the phone from his ear and threw it with an angry growl of
frustration. It hit the wall. The battery flew off the back, and the screen
shattered.

Bethany
pulled the duvet up around her and lowered her forehead against her knees. She’d
brought this into his life—made him lose his temper, his control. She felt his
hand rest on top of her head.

“I’m
sorry. I’ll buy you a new phone.” He sat beside her and gathered her in his
arms. “I think we have a problem. You need to call the police. The bastard said
he broke into your condo.”

“What?”
Panic zinged through her chest. She imagined her ex going through her
belongings, destroying everything he hadn’t already destroyed in her life.

“Don’t
worry,” Alistair said, stroking her hair. “You’re safe here.”

Bethany
scrambled to her feet and grabbed her clothes from the floor. “This isn’t about
being safe. It’s about being trapped.” She threw her dress on the bed and
covered her face with her hands. “I will never be free of him.”

Alistair
stood in front of her and pulled her hands from her eyes. “You aren’t trapped.
Who cares if he broke in? You’re here now. Let the past go. He’s not in your
life here with me.”

“My
life here with you? Alistair, what are you talking about? I can’t just stay
here forever. I have to go back.”

He
dropped his hands and took a step back. Maybe he was realizing how crazy his
words were too. She wasn’t anxious to leave him, but things between them were
moving at light-speed.

Bethany
took his face between her hands. “There’s no hero in this story, and no happy
ending. You need to believe that.”

He
shook his head. “There are always happy endings.”

“I
have to go back and see the damage.” She turned from him and grabbed her bra
and underwear.

Alistair
grasped her wrist. “I’ll go with you. You’re pressing charges, right?”

“You
can’t leave. The audition for
Hues of Black and Blue
—remember?” She
pulled out of his grip and began dressing.

“Shit.
Well, I’ll miss it then.” He sat on the bed watching her.

“You
will not. You waltzed into Dolls & Doms a few days ago. You’re not giving
up your shot at this movie because you got stuck with me and my drama.” She
fastened her bra and pulled it up over her breasts.

“First
of all, I’m not stuck with you. Second, I hadn’t even planned on auditioning
for this movie for real, and third, I’m going with you.”

There
was no way she was going to let him miss his shot at getting the lead in a huge
movie. Not because of her and her asshole ex. She gripped a fist full of his
hair and yanked his head back. “Listen to me carefully, Alistair Ingram,” she
said, using her best Black Betty, authoritative voice even if there wasn’t a
trace of Betty left inside her. “I don’t want you there. You will not come
there. I’m leaving, and you’re staying. That is final.”

He
scowled at her. “And when will you be back?”

A
man like Alistair Ingram didn’t need a woman like her in his life. He could
have anyone he wanted and just about anyone would be better for him than she
was.

Damn
it all to hell, she knew letting him in, getting close, would crush her heart
and soul. She let herself fall and now she’d have to suffer when she smacked
the pavement at rock bottom. “Never.”

“I
don’t accept that,” he said, standing and pulling her against him. “One phone
call and that’s it with us? No. That’s not okay with me.”

Fight
or flight was setting in, and she had to make him see reason before she lost
it. “What kind of relationship do you think you can have with me? I’m a Dom at
a private men’s club in Las Vegas, Alistair! Nobody in your elite Hollywood
circle will accept me. I’ll ruin you! I won’t do it.”

He
looked like she’s slapped him in the face. “You’re going back to work there?”

“Where
else would I go?” It was a lie. She’d never be able to play that role again.
Not after him. Not after…

He
pushed her away. “I don’t know you at all. I thought you’d broken free of all
of that. Of Betty and your past. Guess it was all a lie.”

She’d
never wanted to reach out and hold someone so badly in her life.

It
wasn’t a lie. But she had to let him believe it was.

She
slipped on her shoes and picked up the broken pieces of her cell phone, leaving
the broken pieces of her heart in its place. “Can you call me a cab to take me
to the airport, please?”

“My
driver will take you.”

She
couldn’t look at him. The cool tone in his voice was bad enough. It was hard to
believe they’d been so close only minutes earlier.

Bethany
missed him already. A hole was starting to form where he’d weaseled his way in.
She didn’t know how she’d get over him, or if she even would.

She
zipped her suitcase. Alistair dressed and left the bedroom. Watching him walk
out hurt more than she could stand. Her knees gave out and she landed on her
suitcase on her butt. Tears were inevitable. She couldn’t hold them back if she
fought with everything inside of her.

It
was all too much. This kind of pain hurt a thousand times more than the night
she suffered the beating that left scars on her back. This kind of pain was
what she’d been avoiding her entire life. The kind that left you open, raw and
bleeding from the inside.

Absence Of Torture

It
had been two weeks since Alistair sat on his couch with his back to the front
door and heard her walk out.

Two
weeks since his driver carried her bags to the fucking S.U.V. and dropped her
off at the airport.

Two
weeks of struggling every god damned day not to call her. She had a phone—he’d
made sure to send her a new one—she could call him if she wanted to talk to
him.

She
didn’t though.

He
wasn’t used to this. He’d always been the one doing the leaving.

“Ready,
Alistair?” the production assistant asked.

Was
he ready? Hell, he’d never been more ready. He needed to take out this anger
and aggression somehow and auditioning for the role of a Dom would do the
trick.

“Sure.”
He walked on the set. The director—one he’d never worked with before---motioned
for him to wait just one minute.

“The
actress auditioning with you is on her way out,” he said.

Alistair
nodded and picked up a small riding crop. It reminded him of Bethany. No. It
reminded him of Black Betty.

He
tossed it back down on the table full of toys. He never wanted to see Black
Betty again.

“Sorry,
I’m late,” said an all too familiar voice.

Alistair
spun around to find Heather Winston striding onto the set. “No,” he said,
shaking his head. He cut his eyes to the director. “Whose idea was this? Is
this some kind of fucked up joke?”

“Oh,
come on Ali,” Heather said, smiling coyly and running a finger down the center
of his chest. “It’s not like we’ve never been naked together before.” She
stepped closer. “It’s not like we’ve never--”

“This
isn’t a game to me.” Alistair pushed past her and walked off the set, stopping
in front of the casting director. “I’m withdrawing myself from consideration for
the part.”

“Don’t
be rash.” From the corner of the room, Henry Wallace stepped forward. “You and
Heather make a great pair. People love you together. The two of you in this
movie is like striking gold.”

Alistair
felt sick. The puppet masters of his career kept weaving his personal life with
his professional one, and it had to end. Now. “You’ll have to strike gold with
someone other than me.”