Chapter Eight
Dinner Plans
Amy
“I know Jonah said thank you already, but I’d like to second it, sir.” Amy turned as Kyle closed the door to his office, finding herself back in the now familiar surroundings of the rosewood paneling. The room had inspired both agonizing ignominy and euphoric rapture over the time she’d been there. “You’re doing so much for my family. I’m eternally grateful.”
“You’re both extremely polite.” He wandered over to her, grazing his palm across her suit-covered backside. “I think he’s just a young guy who needs guidance.”
“Yes.” She glanced out of his window at the sprawling lawns. “It’s been tough on him and his brother since Graham died, and well…” She turned her head to find him right there at her side, the intoxicating scent of his cologne daring her to go on. “I’m only one person.”
“I’m sure you’ve done everything you can for them both.” Kyle murmured the words into her ear, the resonance of his voice sending a chill racing along her spine. “I find you most obliging whenever I require you.”
Her lips curled at his inference. “Yes, sir, but it’s not quite the same thing.”
“No.” He pressed his lips to the side of her neck before walking around his desk and easing into his recliner. “I suppose not. Let’s talk about the plans for this evening.”
“Yes, sir.” Directing her hands into the small of her back, she eyed him watching her, wondering what he was thinking. “I was going to ask what you expected of me, sir.”
It was strange, she realized, how easily the subservience came to her now. Initially, she’d balked at even using the word ‘sir’, but now it left her lips like a reflex, and she found herself naturally slipping into the stances he’d told her he appreciated. Hell, she was surprised she wasn’t already on her knees for him.
She’d found an unusual calming headspace in the submission. Not because she was worth less than him or because he wielded power, but because she found she wanted to kneel. After so long struggling and often failing to manage all of her responsibilities, it was good to relinquish some of the strain to Kyle. His commanding aura was easy to trust, and the more time she spent around him, the more that faith built. She hardly second-guessed his desire to help her anymore. Whatever his motivations, the man had been nothing short of an angel.
It helped that he wanted her to kneel, and she fondly recalled the times he’d praised her for her surrender. There was always something unnerving about the way his compliments washed over, as though his approval had become the oxygen she needed to breathe, but increasingly, she couldn’t get away from the sense that she yearned to succumb, regardless. She longed to feel the steadying hand of his guidance on her spiraling life and, critically, to explore that buzz of sensual carnality that seemed to be born from his dominance.
Understandable the sexual chemistry between them might not be, but Amy had already decided she wanted more of it.
Much more.
“I have guests attending this evening.” Reaching into his top drawer, he produced a crisp piece of paper and pushed it across the desk to her. “These are their names.”
She edged forward, taking in the list of male names.
“These gentlemen are my closest friends, little girl. I want their evening to be exemplary.”
“Yes, sir.”
Her gaze rose to meet his, and she realized he still hadn’t clarified what her role would be. What she did know, though, was that Jonah was to be dispatched for the night, and it seemed only men were on the guest list. Her tummy twisted at the consequences of those two variables. What was Kyle planning that meant he wanted Jonah out of the equation?
“Leonard will prepare a four-course meal.” He leaned back in his chair. “Then we’ll retire to the drawing room for drinks.”
“Okay.” Her breath sped up as she paused. The logical part of her insisted she resist the question burning inside her, that it was better not to know the answer, but the lack of certainty was doing little to quell her raging anxiety.
“Will you require me to serve you all, sir?” She hesitated, conscious of her nipples straining beneath her shirt.
“What a ravishing idea, Amy.” His knowing smile assured her that her service had been his idea all along, but he kept up the facade. “Thank you for offering.”
“I…” She was pretty sure she hadn’t offered, but she sensed arguing would likely only see her ass reddened before his friends arrived, so she bit back on the counter threatening to leave her lips. She could live with playing waitress for the evening. It shouldn’t be her job, but hell, knowing her and Kyle, they’d manage to make it sexy. Only one genuine fear lingered in the back of her mind, and realizing he was waiting for her response, she knew she’d need to face it. “Will I have to be bared?”
She inhaled, holding her breath as she awaited his verdict. There was no reason she should have to be bared in any circumstance—not for her employer or any man—but they both knew how things had changed in the last few days. Her initial revulsion to the idea had shifted into something hot and submissive, and frankly, had it not been for Jonah’s presence in the house, she’d have been happier being naked most of the time.
She liked being accessible to the man who seemed intent on mastering not only her finances but also her mind, and she supposed, over the time she’d been at Brock Hall, the notion of being naked around him had become normal. Being bared in front of other people, though—strangers—was a stark and disconcerting contrast. Surely, he wouldn’t expect that of her?
“That’s an interesting question.” His sardonic tone reverberated along her back, revealing his answer.
Yes, he expected her to be bared. Kyle expected her compliance on just about anything he suggested.
Trepidation tightened as that concept settled over her. He’d bare her to his friends, showing her off the way another guy might show off a racing horse or new car. The insinuation was clear— she was his for the duration of the trial, at least, and if she wanted the money and the devastatingly great sex to continue, she’d concur with his way of thinking.
“Oh, God.” Shuffling forward, she gripped at the edge of his desk. “You will, won’t you, sir? You’ll bare me and ask me to serve them all like a cheap whore.”
“Come on, now.” He leaned across the desk for her hand. “We both know how much an order like that would turn you on.”
“Maybe, but…” She grimaced, the weight of all the possible scenarios playing out in her head like a bad dream. He’d have her debase herself for his approved audience, and the worst of it was, she would probably be aroused by the denigration. “I don’t even know these men. What will they think of me?”
“It doesn’t matter what they think.” His larger hand encased hers. “But if you must know, I suspect they’ll be utterly fixated by you and horribly jealous that you’re mine.”
“Am I, though?” She loathed the insecurity in her voice as she asked, but she couldn’t help herself.
Kyle had done so much for her. She knew that, but she was giving him everything she had in return, making herself more vulnerable than she’d ever been and pushing herself so far out of her comfort zone that the old Amy was barely even a dot on the horizon. The idea of being paraded around in front of his friends might be perversely stimulating, but it was still downright terrifying.
“Are you what, Amy?” He straightened, lessening the grip on her hand.
“Yours, sir.” She could hardly get the words out. “I mean, I’m your housekeeper, but does that mean I’m yours to flaunt to your friends.”
“Oh, yes.” His lips twitched. “You’re infinitely mine now, little girl.”
She gulped, thrilling, nervous energy swirling inside her. She longed to be more than only a member of his staff, but she was still struggling to believe that eventuality could be real. Even after his every soft word and comforting touch, the idea that a man like Kyle would choose her seemed preposterous.
“Talk to me.” His blue stare drilled into her. “I am many things, Amy, but I’m not a mind reader. You do want to be mine, don’t you?”
The suave tone of his voice conveyed that he already knew the answer, but she supposed she appreciated him asking.
“Yes, sir.” Her brows knitted, “I really do.” Her gaze flitted from his face to his hand. “But being bared for your friends seems too much.”
“Too much?” He sounded skeptical. “Didn’t you think the same when I first asked you to wear your uniform and again when I gagged you? You always think it’s too much, little girl.”
“Maybe.” Shit, he had a point. “I mean, I don’t want to let you down, but…” Her voice trailed away as she struggled to find adequate words, and there, in that moment, she knew she’d do it.
She’d do whatever he asked of her, likely degrading herself to within an inch of her life, if it brought them both pleasure because that was another of Kyle’s magic powers—he could persuade her to do almost anything and even ensure she’d relish the act.
“But?” he prompted.
“Nothing…” She heaved in a breath as the acceptance washed over her. She was going to do it. She’d greet his friends, smile, serve them, and if he demanded it, she’d bare herself to them, too. “It’s nothing, sir.”
“Listen.” He rose, closing the distance between them in only a few long strides. Wrapping his arms around her middle, he drew her flush against his hard body. “I acknowledge your reticence to be naked around my friends, but I make you three promises which I hope will help.”
“Oh?” She hadn’t expected any agreements. “What are those, sir?
“First, I won’t demand anything you won’t enjoy, little girl.” Leaning down, he pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead.
“Okay.” She glanced up at the man who’d bowled into her life and turned her whole world upside down. It didn’t seem real, even now, that a sophisticated man like him could have swept in to offer salvation. Perhaps she would never get used to the idea. “And what else, sir?”
“Second, no one but me will touch you.” His hard and possessive tone consoled her on that point, and even though it shouldn’t have been so damn comforting, it was.
She was his—he’d said so—and that meant no other man could lay a finger on her. She shivered lightly at the dark promise of that sentiment.
“I’ve made that condition clear.”
“You’ve already spoken to them about me?” Amy glanced away, unsure how she felt about that concept.
“Naturally.” Tipping her chin so she was compelled to meet his eyes, he grinned. “You’re the reason they’re coming, little girl.”
“What?” Her head started to pound, and instinctively, she gripped his forearm.
“I’m thrilled to have you here, and… I don’t think it’s a secret how fond I am of you.” His finger stroked under her chin as he went on. “I couldn’t wait to tell them about you.”
“But?” She couldn’t wrap her head around the idea he’d been discussing her and maybe even the things they’d done with people she didn’t know. “Why, sir?”
“Why?” He laughed. “Amy, how can you even ask?”
Perplexed, she leaned into his palm and waited for him to elaborate.
“Most of my friends are as wealthy and successful as I am, but they all, for various reasons, struggle to find the right woman. It was something, until recently, we all had in common.”
The right woman?
The pounding in her head had morphed into a dull throb that seemed to resound around her body. He couldn’t be talking about her, could he? Forlorn Amy Kendal, with nothing to offer except her submission and her weary body? Holding onto his bicep tighter, she was suddenly unable to take another breath.
“They’re all desperate to meet you.” His thumb and forefinger tugged lightly at her chin. “I think they believe I’m making you up.”
“Do they know I’m working for you, sir?” she probed. “And why?”
“They know you have signed a contract with me, yes, but I have not divulged any of your personal financial matters.”
Thank fuck. She sagged against him as far as his hand allowed. “Thank you.”
“I would never do that,” he soothed, tightening the arm snaked around her middle. “Even if I like to demean you for our mutual gratification, I respect you, Amy, and I value this thing we’ve found.”
He values it. She pulled in a breath, temporarily assuaged by his explanation, despite the lulling aroma of his tempting aftershave. He values me.
Perhaps his admissions to his associates were a positive thing? Surely, it meant he foresaw a longer-term relationship with her if he was taking the time and trouble of not only talking about her but then inviting his friends around to meet her.
See me, she corrected herself. I’ll be serving them port and cheese, not making small talk.
But still, it was something. It meant something, didn’t it?
She had to believe so.
“And the third, sir?”
He’d mentioned three promises.
“Ah, yes.” His smile stretched wider. “Please me tonight, obey me and make me proud, and I swear, I’ll make you come so hard, you won’t know what’s hit you.”