The Submission of Alistair Ingram (16 page)

Wallace
lifted is hands in the air. “Why? You get this part, the public buys the story
about the whore in Vegas training you and life is good.”

Alistair’s
fist smashed down on the casting director’s table. “Don’t ever call her a whore
again. You have no idea what you’re talking about or how wrong you are.”

“Jesus,
Ingram,” Wallace said, folding his arms. “I’ve seen this happen before. An
actor on his way up to the top gets snagged on some bitch’s long red nails and
she drags him all the way back down.”

“Don’t--”

“She’ll
bury you!” Wallace bellowed, pointing a fat finger at Alistair.

To
his utter astonishment, Alistair was calm. None of this mattered anymore. “How
is she going to do that, Henry? By being exactly what I need in my life?”

“Until
you find someone else,” Heather said behind him.

Alistair
ignored her. Anything he had to say to her would only cause her pain. He had
never cared about her even a fraction of the way he cared about Bethany.

“Good
luck with your film,” he told Wallace, and strode away, eager to get off the
lot. He had to find a way to get Bethany back in his life.

*
* *

Bethany’s
condo was still a wreck after two weeks of cleaning it up. Her neighbor had
helped her lug her couch, which had been slashed all to hell with a knife, to
the curb. She finally got all of the broken glass out of the carpet after about
one hundred times vacuuming it, and all that was left was to patch the holes in
the walls and paint.

Even
though she hadn’t returned to work at Dolls & Doms, Mark let her spend her
nights there in her bedroom lair. Sleep was practically impossible. She
couldn’t stop the fear of her ex finding her, somehow getting past the gate and
all the security the club had in place. Every little noise sent her cowering in
the corner of her bed, praying he hadn’t found her.

She
knew he was still there—in town—lurking and waiting for the right time to
pounce. Their break up was less of a break up and more an escape. She filed the
paperwork for a divorce and disappeared. All she left behind was her collar.

Alistair
ran rampant through her mind as she spread spackling onto the wall in her
hallway. She longed to feel the safety she felt in his arms. The security of
being with someone who accepted you for everything you were and weren’t.
Someone who didn’t want to hurt you.

She
missed him. Terribly.

He’d
made good on his word and replaced her phone, and it was all she could do not
to dial his number that he’d programed into her contact list. He needed a life
of normalcy—as much normalcy as a Hollywood actor could have.

She
was too old for him. Had too much baggage. He’d find someone else and be happy.

The
thought made her nauseous as she moved on to patch the next hole in the wall. What
would she do when faced with his image on T.V. kissing another woman, a
gorgeous Hollywood starlet?

She
would die.

Bethany
sank back against the stair step behind her and rested her forehead in her
hands. How could she let him go and get over him? It was going to be
impossible.

A
knock sounded on her door. The unexpected noise and visitor terrified her. She
didn’t move a muscle. After a few minutes, the doorbell rang, and a red card
slipped under her door.

Bethany
eased forward to retrieve the card. It had her name on the front. She peeked
out the window to see a black S.U.V. driving off down the street.

Vaya con Dios

Alistair
paced beside his rental car outside the airport in Cozumel. His insides were in
knots. She hadn’t responded to his card—the letter—the plane ticket. What an
ass he’d be if he was standing there waiting, and she didn’t get off the plane.
He even had flowers wilting inside the car, champagne on ice back at the cabana,
and a drawer overflowing with Snickers bars.

She
had to come.

He
leaned against the car and waited, watching as a plane taxied overhead and dove
toward the runway. It had to be her flight. Right on time.

The
sun beat down on him, making it even harder to breathe as people began pouring
out of the terminal doors, rolling their luggage toward waiting hotel motor
coaches. His eyes darted from one to another. Every blonde woman made his heart
rate spike. Where was she?

Travel
agents ushered groups to their destination, taxi drivers flagged down weary
travelers, and still…no Bethany.

Alistair
let his head fall back, and his shoulders sink, practically melting into the
side of the car. The sky was the brightest azure blue—beyond imagining, a color
that screamed happiness on a private white sand beach with clear, crystal
water…and he’d never felt so miserable in his entire life.

He
spun around and dug his keys from his pocket as he rounded the front of the
car. At least he’d tried to get her back, if he ever even had her at all.

“Where
are you going, Pretty Boy?”

The
deep, throaty, silky laugh sent fire racing over his skin. He licked his lips
and grinned, turning to face her. “You came.”

She
flashed him a mischievous smile. Her hair was back in a braid. He couldn’t wait
to unwind it and run his fingers through the soft strands. “You didn’t think I
would?” She nodded to his keys in his hand.

Alistair
met her at the edge of the sidewalk, took her suitcase and set it beside him.
“I was about to go back and get shitfaced on champagne all alone to drown my
sorrows.” He grabbed her and lifted her off her feet. “Now I don’t have to.” He
kissed her, soft and slow, feeling every inch of her lips against his, lips
he’d dreamed of night after night and never thought he’d get to touch again.

Her
body relaxed against his, her fingers threaded in his hair, pulling his mouth
even closer, tighter against hers. There was no mistaking it—she’d missed him
too.

He
set her back on her feet and grabbed her bag. “Let’s get to the cabana. I have
two weeks’ worth of time to make up for.”

She
laughed—a sound he’d never get enough of—and got in the passenger side.

Alistair
shut her door behind her and savored the feeling that his world had just righted
itself.

*
* *

The
moon was full, the sand wet, and Bethany was stuffed with Snickers and drunk on
champagne. Lying naked in the surf with Alistair, she ran her eyes over his
body, following the path the moonlight played across his smooth skin, shadowing
his muscular physique.

His
fingers trailed over her breast, lingering on her peaked nipple. His eyes
studied her body, like hers studied his, like he was memorizing her. She
wondered if he was thinking what she was, and before she could stop it, the
question flew from her lips. “Where do we go from here?”

Alistair’s
eyes met hers, filled with intensity. “Nowhere. Everywhere. We could stay right
here forever as far as I’m concerned.” He gathered her underneath him, the
water breaking at their feet and rushing up to cover their bodies. “The only
problem is that the sun will eventually rise, and you’ll probably want another
Snickers bar soon.”

She
lifted her head to capture his smiling lips between her own. “I would never eat
another bite of chocolate again if we could stay right here.”

“Then
that’s what we’ll do. We’ll become beach bums and stay here until they kick us
out, living off of room service and never wearing clothes.” He tickled her side,
and she squirmed and laughed against his lips.

“You
know I have a lot to work out,” she said, stroking his hair back off his
forehead. “I have my condo to sell, because I can’t stay there if he knows
where I am. I need to find another job, and…I have issues. You know that. Big
issues that I need to get help with.”

Alistair
took her wrists and pinned them between her breasts like he had in the back of
the S.U.V. on their way from Vegas to LA. It seemed like a lifetime ago to
Bethany. In a way, it was. It was Black Betty’s lifetime, not hers.

“You’re
not getting rid of me,” he said, leaning his forehead against hers. “I know you
have things to work out. I don’t care. I spent two weeks in Hell without you,
and I don’t want to go back there again.”

The
British accent was starting to come out. Hearing it made Bethany’s throat swell
with emotion. “I don’t want to get rid of you. I just want you to be sure. You
deserve--”

Alistair
clamped a hand over her mouth. “So help me, if you say I deserve better than
you, I will toss you right into this ocean.” He lifted his hand and replaced it
with his lips, his kiss insistent and lingering. “I need you to come back to LA
with me so I know you’re safe. If you don’t want to live with me, if it’s too
soon, I’ll rent an apartment, and you can stay in the house. I want my security
team with you 24/7.”

Bethany
had a million logical reasons to refuse his offer. Hell yes, it was too soon to
live together. She didn’t have a job. People would talk—say she was a after his
money.

But
looking into his eyes and seeing the desperation and sincerity there…hearing it
in his voice. She didn’t care about logic. She wanted what she wanted and
wouldn’t deny herself for one more day.

She
nodded, her heart lurching in her chest. “Okay. I’ll come back to LA with you.”

His
mouth dropped open in shock, and he laughed. “You will?”

“You
want me to change my answer?”

“Hell
no!” Alistair rolled them over so she was lying on his chest. “You remember
when you told me not to trust you?”

Bethany
caught herself drawing hearts in the wet sand. She ran her hand across them.
“Yes.”

“Can
I trust you now?”

She
rose up to see his handsome face. Searching every corner of her soul, she
couldn’t find a reason to deny him. “Yes. You can trust me.”

Bethany
leaned down and pressed her lips to his, putting every ounce of emotion she
felt for him into her kiss. This was real. He was hers, and she’d do everything
she could to deserve it.

About Dolls & Doms And Kelli Maine

Dolls
& Doms is episodic, erotic flash fiction told every Thursday at
www.DollsAndDoms.blogspot.com
.
The Submission of Alistair Ingram is the first in a novella series based on the
episodes on the blog. Visit to see what happens next!

Kelli
Maine is the USA Today Bestselling author of the Give & Take series,
Taken
,
No
Take Backs
: A Taken Novella, and Taken By Storm coming soon. She’s
one of the founders of The Naughty Mafia hosting
The Naughty
Mafia Rocks Vegas
in August, 2013, and loves meeting
readers on
Facebook
and
Twitter
.
Updates can be found on her blog,
www.kellimaine.blogspot.com
.

Acknowledgements

Dolls
and Doms started as a fun side project for me. I wasn’t certain if anyone would
read it or like it, and I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the wonderful
comments and fans of the weekly episodes. Thanks to everyone on Facebook and
Twitter who share my Dolls and Doms posts and look forward to the next.
Alistair and Bethany’s story isn’t over yet!

Katie
Ashley, I wouldn’t know where to put a comma without you. You, Emily Snow,
Michelle Valentine and Kristen Proby are the rocks I cling to in the ever-shifting
tides of this crazy writing career. I’m proud to have you guys as friends.

Bloggers
are the life-blood of authors, and the following blogs have been greatly
supportive of me and Dolls and Doms:

Flirty
Dirty Book Blog, Book Avenue Review, Kindlehooked, I Heart Indie, Totally
Booked, Autumn Book Review, SubClub Book Club, Shh Mom’s Reading, Book Crush,
The Book Enthusiast, Maryse.net, Three Chicks and Their Books.

You
can find all of the blogs listed on Facebook and Twitter as well. Please become
a fan of their sites and support the work they do and time they give all for
the love of books!