Chapter 16
Pouringlavender-scented bath salts into the tub big enough for four people, Zar fills the bubbling water before he climbs in with me.
“You’re a godsend,” I sigh.
My muscles ache from last night, and my sore pussy is checking into early retirement, too.
But who are we kidding? She’ll be healed and back on the job by next Saturday.
I don’t remember much about falling asleep last night. Exhaustion claimed me. I wanted both men to crawl into bed and hold me while we slept, but that didn’t happen.
I rested my head on Luca’s chest while he had Zar rub arnica gel over the places where my body had been bound. It soothed the soreness and helped with bruising.
I drank a Gatorade for Luca and snacked on banana slices and pistachios for him, too. He made Zar do the same. Luca made sure we were nourished before he said, “I need to be there when Gia awakes.”
I understood. I would never argue with him about that.
But before Luca left, he opened the velvet box and presented me with a thick gold link necklace. At its center hung a square-cut ruby surrounded by tiny diamonds. When Luca wrapped it around my neck, it fit like a collar, and I touched it, not knowing what to say.
“I had words prepared,” Luca said, “but you leave me speechless, Belle.” He leaned down and kissed my hair. He lingered there before he said, “And you broke my rules.” He lifted, eyeing us. “Both of you. So I’ll give you this—if you honor me and wear my collars, you’re promising you won’t try to break me again.”
He looked from me to Zar, and for a moment, Luca was humbled, asking us not to tempt him again. Like my heart, the moment felt too fragile to speak, so I just nodded yes.
Luca kissed my forehead, “Goodnight, ma flamme,” before he climbed out of bed.
I looked at Zar, wondering if he’d stay. His smile was gentle, but he climbed out of bed, too. If Luca couldn’t sleep with me, Zar wouldn’t either. The two friends healed something last night, and Zar wasn’t risking our future.
Luca tucked me in while Zar promised, “I’ll be back in the morning with coffee.”
“We’re doing brunch tomorrow,” Luca pronounced, “as a family.”
They left together, turning off most of the lights, and I hugged my pillow, content, knowing they’d come back.
Sloshing in the tub, Zar reclines opposite me, sipping a mimosa while I sigh at the warm coffee he brought, too. It soothes my throat. I don’t know how many times I screamed last night, but broken glass fills my neck.
And is it weird being naked around Zar?
No, nothing feels weird with him. We’re not best friends. We’re not lovers. Yes, we’re subs together, but we’re also just…us.
It’s pure silent relaxation until Zar informs me, “He sent me with the suitcase from your suite and your clothes for brunch, too, darlin’.”
I roll my eyes. “That name’s not sticking either.”
He flicks water at me. “Why not?”
“Because,” I flick him back, “you sound like Matthew McConaughey saying it, and it’s weird now because you’ve licked my pussy, too.”
He chuckles. “So you don’t want my boy, Matthew, licking your kitty?”
“You know him?”
“Yeah, he’s a good fella,” he drawls. “When your family owns the state of Texas, you meet all its prestigious residents.”
I study Zar, like really study him. He’s beyond sexy. Yes, his dark hair and eyes are seductive. His body is drool-worthy. His cock is incredible.
But it’s him.
Zar can go from sounding like a Harvard-educated CFO to a Texas cowboy in a flip of a phrase. He’s a southpaw who throws a vicious left hook. He can be stern, but he’s so sweet with Gia and polite to everyone, but he doesn’t put up with Luca’s grumpy bullshit unless it’s Saturday nights.
“Do you ever talk to your family?” I ask.
“I talk to my little brothers.” He swirls his mimosa. “I let them bitch about their billions. My mom sends me birthday cards, but to my dad, I’m a ghost, and it’s fine by me. We never got along.”
“Do they know about Luca?”
He cocks a grin. “Well, now, how do you mean? Do they know that my college roommate and best friend is my boss, the CEO of The Mercier Hotels? Yes. Do they know that I get off on him yanking my collar and whipping me until I come? No. Do they know that I really like the taste of his hard cock in my mouth? I sorta didn’t know it myself until last night.”
“So, that never happened before? Between you two?”
“A lot never happened before last night.”
I brush his leg with mine. “Are you alright with it? Like, it’s what you wanted, right? You’re not mad at me, are you?”
“Nah,” he says. “You’re what’s making us finally work.”
“So you weren’t working before? You weren’t happy?”
He sets his flute down on the wide edge of the spa tub before raking his fingers through his coal waves. The late morning sun fills the high window in the luxurious bathroom. We have two more hours until brunch, and we need this talk.
I need to know more about Zar.
I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t want him to feel second to me, but why does that already feel like the case, though I don’t want it to be?
He takes too long to answer me, so I ask, “Zar, what do you get out of this? Why do you want this with him? With us?”
“It’s simple.” He reclines, draping his arms over the edge of the tub. “I was raised to be a Grade-A entitled asshole, to use my privilege to use others—the good ol’ American way. The problem is, when an even more entitled asshole raises you, you start hating everything he stands for. You want to be nothing like him. So, I get off on giving it away. Power. Privilege. Pussy, too. I like submitting because honestly, I have enough trust fund money that my father can’t touch that I could dominate all, but I don’t.”
“So that’s why you like submitting to Luca?”
“Yeah.” He grabs the bottle of shampoo on the edge of the tub. It’s nestled beside an array of Mercier Hotel spa products. Filling his palm with pearly liquid, he says, “No one else has enough power to do it. I’d laugh in their face. But Luca has that way, doesn’t he? He’s so damn Dom he doesn’t need dollars to own you. That’s why I get off calling him ‘Owner’ and you call him ‘Master.’ We’re free under his control.”
“But you love him, too. I saw it last night.” I reach out, silently asking for the shampoo. He hands it over, his other hand sudsing up his waves.
“Yeah, we love each other. Like best friends and all.”
I dunk under the water, saturating my hair before I emerge with a little splash and he declares, “Dayum, you look like a mega-babe mermaid.”
“Shut up.” I grin, pouring a dollop of shampoo into my palm. “And keep lying to yourself that y’all are just best friends because I know what I saw last night.”
“I know what I saw, too.” He gets playful, forming his hair into a shampoo faux hawk. “You two are falling in love. You know it, right?”
I shrug. “Just like you two are.”
“No.” He laughs. “We’re different.”
“How?”
I amuse myself, too, dividing my hair into two sections, trying to form horns on my head but my hair’s too long, and they flop like donkey ears, making Zar chuckle.
“Because,” he says, “I don’t want a wife, kids, or a picket fence. I don’t want a husband either. Look up ’traditional’ in the thesaurus, and I’m the antonym.”
I twirl my bubbly horns. “Then what do you want?”
“I wanna live my life like I damn well please. No rules. No expectations.”
I look him in the eye. “No love? No family?”
“Is that what you want? Love? Family? A husband? Because careful,” he gently warns, “he may break your heart. You may never get it with him.”
I pause, searching my heart, imagining how I’ll be sitting beside Gia with Luca on the other side of her and Zar on the other side of me in a couple of hours.
We will feel like family, like Luca’s version of the family he wants, but will it be enough for me?
“Yeah, I want it,” I answer, not knowing how I’ll truly get it. “You want it, too; you’re just afraid to admit it.”
Sheepishly, he grins, and it’s cute. Zar ducks under, all the way, yanking my ankle so hard that he pulls me under, too.
We emerge laughing, bubbles streaming down our faces. The shampoo threatens to burn my eyes, so I don’t open them. But I sure hear the deep “ahem” of an amused man watching our splashing spectacle.
“Do you need rubber duckies, too?” Luca asks while I wipe my eyes so I can open them.
“No,” I answer, blinking up at him. “But I sure did like those rubber fuckies you used on me.”
“Rubber fuckies?” He laughs. “That’s what we’re calling dildos now?”
“Hell, no,” Zar chimes in. “Y’all already ruined ‘red’ and ‘pinkie’ for me. I ain’t sayin’ ‘rubber fuckie’ in a scene. I gotta draw the line somewhere.”
Luca walks to the vanity. Dressed in his usual dark suit, white shirt, and no tie, everything he wears is Dom By Design, I swear. Grabbing two rolled towels, he offers one to Zar, then holds one open for me.
I obey, rising from the water, bubbles streaming in rivulets down my naked flesh. Both ogle me, but Luca holds me in his admiring gaze. Silently, he makes me stand there, nude and dripping, while his stare marks every inch that’s his, making me feel beautiful before I let him wrap the towel around me.
“I need to shower, too,” I insist, and they watch.
Zar stays in the tub, his towel resting on the edge as Luca sits beside him. I rinse off in the steamy glass enclosure, adding conditioner to my hair. Their silent admiration is turning me on, but I’m not breaking Luca’s rules. It’s Sunday, and apparently, only Saturday is Sex Day. Well, Sorta Sex Day.
“How do we do this?” I ask, shutting the water off. “At brunch? From now on?” I pull open the glass door, taking the towel Luca has stood to offer me again.
“We do it like we have been,” Luca answers while Zar climbs out, making quick work of drying off, too. “It’s us, Gia, Celine, Abbey and Harper. It’s no different.”
My glance flicks down to Luca’s left hand. Like a slap, it hurts.
His wedding band is back on.
“But it is different now,” I challenge him. I may be wearing his jeweled collar. I may never take it off, but I will speak my mind. “It’ll be obvious. Gia will sense it. Abbey and Celine, like all women, can smell a secret a mile away. They’re going to know.”
Luca lowers his brow. “Let them wonder. I don’t answer to them. And we always act innocent around Gia. She can never know about us.”
I catch Zar over Luca’s shoulder, raising his eyebrow my way, like an “I told you so” while he tugs on a fresh pair of boxers.
And I want this to work. This will take time. Luca won’t change in one night.
“Okay,” I answer. “For Gia,” I tell him before he leans down, tenderly kissing my cheek.
“We’ll greet you in the lobby at noon,” he insists. “Take your time.”
They leave. Zar must get dressed in the bedroom while I remain in the bathroom, and I do take my time. I want this brunch to be perfect.
I want to win.
Yes, I want love, family, and husband, and I want it with Luca. It feels right. It has to be right with the way Luca looks at me. And I want Zar with us, too, if that’s what he wants.
But either way, patience is required to win this fight. I can endure for months.
Why?
Because the brunch outfit Luca had Zar deliver to me in a Mercier Hotel white and gold garment bag is breathtaking. Luca even sent fine lingerie, too—white silk lace panties and a matching strapless bra.
Call Julia Roberts. Tell her I’m giving her a run for her money because I feel like a pretty woman with auburn hair, a ruby necklace, and a grumpy, dominating client.
But my dress is sapphire, not red like hers was in the movie. Mine is strapless and made of satin crepe with soft drapes, snug around my waist and hitting below my knee. It’s elegant, showing off my tattoos and new jeweled collar, too. The silk tag inside says “Alex Perry,” and I don’t know who that is, but I know Luca picked this out. This and the new Louboutin nude patent pumps. I know their red sole. I binged Sex in the City. I know they’re ridiculously expensive.
Giving me these luxurious clothes is Luca’s way of making it up to me. Like, I wouldn’t notice that his wedding band is back on.
We may love it when he degrades me on Saturday nights. I’m honored to be his “whore,” to be his sub, too. I get off on it. He does, too.
But by day, in front of others, he’s dressing me like a lady—his lady—who belongs on his arm. And he doesn’t want me to hide who I am. Now that he knows the story behind my tattoos, he wants me to wear them with pride.
I pluck out my make-up bag from the suitcase I packed yesterday for our big night and wear a bit more than usual. Carefully, I blow my hair out, too, letting it fall in natural waves. When I’m ready, I study myself in the mirror’s reflection, and it’s obvious.
I have changed.
I may be a proud girl from a trailer park, but I also look like the beautiful rich bitch who owns this hotel too.
God, I wish Maren and her cunty crew could see me now.
It’s noon, and the golden elevator takes me down two quick floors to the lobby. When they ding open, I’m greeted by a vision that blooms a smile across my face.
“Well, hey, Champ!” Wade, my mentor and the first man I worked with at HGR Security is taking the day shift, covering the elevator.
“Hey!” My hug with him is genuine.
If I had a father figure, Wade would be him. We catch up about his wife and kids, then he asks me about work, “They making you dress this fancy to blend in?”
“Yeah,” I answer. “It’s a rough gig. I suffer in Gucci every day. Is this your new post? Covering days?”
Paint me double-relieved. Brooke doesn’t stand a chance if Jameson covers most nights and Wade covers most days.
“Yeah,” he answers. “Until Redix Dean starts shooting his new show in Savannah next year. He and Daniel Pierce.” He shakes his head. “Can you imagine their crazed fans? We’re already planning their security now.”
I can imagine.
And I can’t escape how my world connects to my friends and job. Charlie, my boss, is married to Daniel Pierce. Cade, my close friend, is married to Redix Dean. And Luca, my new secret Dom who gave my clit torturous pleasure for hours last night, is close friends with Redix, too.
Oh, and I’ve watched Redix and Cade get fucked by their lover, Silas Van de May. And we’re all friends with Stacey and shop at Delta’s, so my world is a steamy, forbidden one.
If Luca insists that our relationship stays secret, it will be a powder keg if our story ever blows up.
“Any developments?” I ask Wade.
“Nah.” He tsks. “I bet she lays low for months. Even if she sneaks in using a disguise, she’ll see us by the elevator and know what’s up. Maybe that’ll do the trick.”
I shake my head. “Brooke Turner won’t ever give up. It may take time and patience, but she’s obsessed with having Mr. Mercier.”
Irony strikes me how much Brooke and I are alike. We want Luca, but we can’t have him, so we tempt him, hoping we can make him change. The only difference is that I’m fighting for Luca’s heart, while I fear Brooke may take his soul. She may take Gia somehow.
Speaking of…
I quickly wrap up with Wade and turn to see them waiting in the lobby for me.
Once Gia spots me, she runs to hug my legs, and I can’t resist. I lean down and scoop her up. “Hey, kiddo.” Even though I’m in a fancy dress, I don’t care. I rest Gia on my hip, carrying her back to Luca, Zar, and Celine, waiting for me.
“You look pretty,” Gia says. Poking my necklace, she asks, “What’s this?”
She may be five, but she’s observant. I fear Gia can see so much because this feels new. This warmth in my heart. This feeling of her belonging to me, too. This terror I feel that something may happen to her and the fierce fight I feel to protect her.
I squeeze her tighter, answering, “It’s a gift.”
“From who?” she asks while I approach my new…who?
Family? Isn’t that what Luca called us? He called me family, too.
And how he’s proudly watching me, dressed for him and holding his daughter? Hot rocks fill my throat. Because Zar’s looking at me the same, like he cherishes the sight, too, and there are moments I don’t know what to believe.
Who is Gia’s real father?
And what happened to her mother?
Darby Mercier died on the Ravenel Bridge in a car accident on July Fourth just before midnight. That I know. It’s public record.
But what factors caused the accident? And why does Luca feel so guilty about it?
The police report lists Luca, Gia, and Zar as surviving passengers. It says Luca was in the passenger seat, Gia was safely buckled in her carrier in the center back seat, and Zar was seated beside her. It said Darby was driving, but what’s shocking is the section of the report that lists “Contributing Factors” explaining how the accident happened…
It’s blank.
It’s as if Luca’s money erased the whole truth.
He says he’s a bad man, that he was a bad husband. He may swear he doesn’t deserve love, but Luca would never cause an accident that put his daughter, Zar, or Darby at risk. He’s not that kind of man; I know it.
“A special person gave it to me,” I answer Gia about my jeweled collar before Luca leans down, politely greeting me with a kiss on both cheeks.
“Ma flamme,” he dares to whisper, almost breathlessly, in my ear before pulling away.
His fingertips linger on my bare arm, holding Gia. He lets me carry her to our VIP brunch table, and I set her between us. Zar sits beside me, resting his arm across the back of my chair, while Luca does the same to Gia. We’re like the woman and daughter they share, and it doesn’t feel odd. It feels fated.
Celine gently smiles, noticing everything but not saying a word. When Abbey and Harper join us minutes later, Abbey grins, noticing, too.
I told Luca we wouldn’t be able to hide it, but we enjoy our brunch as usual, catching up on the week’s gossip about the girls’ school and karate class drama.
When I excuse myself to go to the Ladies’ Room, Abbey rises to join me. “You know,” she jokes, “since women can’t pee alone.”
“It’s okay with me,” she mutters by my side while we weave through the tables in the lavish restaurant. “You and Luca,” she clarifies.
“I…” I don’t know how to answer her. “I’m not supposed to…” What? I stop my shocked stammer because the list is too damn long.
I’m not supposed to fall in love with my client.
I’m not supposed to want to marry a man who still wears his wedding band from his first marriage.
I’m not supposed to be a second sub to the sexiest pleasure Dom who won’t fuck me.
I’m not supposed to let strangers make me come instead, per his command, or share his cock and cum with his best friend.
Holy hell, the list is long if I keep going because I’m sure as hell not supposed to tell Abbey about any of it, either. But she lets me off the hook, pushing the restroom door open for us.
“You’re not supposed to say anything,” she answers, reading my mind. “And it’s okay. That’s what I mean.” We’re the only women in the room as she turns to me. “I know how private Luca is. I know how complicated it must be. But I’m happy for him. I’m happy for you. For Zar, too.” My eyes widen, and she flits her hand. “I don’t need details. I don’t judge. I want this for y’all. All three of you. It’s about time.”
I had no idea Abbey was this wise. And I had no idea she’d support us. I’m afraid to ask her, to insult her sister’s memory, but if anyone knows, it’s her.
“Abbey, I…” I search for a respectful way to ask. “It’s none of my business, I guess, but were Zar and Darby ever?—”
“Together?” Her eyebrow raises. “I don’t know. Zar loved my sister. I know Luca knew about it, too. And Luca loved Darby so much. He was her first love. My sister was very prim and proper, but no one’s perfect. There was always something between the three of them. They could hide it like the ocean, but she died before I could ever get to the bottom of it.”
“So why doesn’t Luca hate Zar?”
Her smile is soft. “Because they love each other, too. I swear those men are icebergs. Ten percent, you can see; the other ninety percent, they hide. But you,” she reaches, affectionately rubbing my arm, “are hot enough to melt them both.”
It rushes over my lips. I have to know. “How did Darby die?”
Grief creases her pretty face. She looks a lot like her sister. “In a car accident on July Fourth. We threw a party, and they all came over. But Luca and Zar got wasted. They were on the beach, fighting about something with Darby, too, and she got upset. She rushed back inside, grabbed Gia, and said she was going home, but Luca wouldn’t let her leave without him. Zar either. So the four of them piled into Luca’s car, and she drove. But the bottom fell out that night. It was a horrible summer storm, and I guess she lost control. She hit the center barrier and died at the scene. Zar told me she died in Luca’s arms.”
Sudden tears spill over my lashes. I imagine the horrific scene—Luca’s tears, Gia’s cries, and Zar’s shock.
“But it’s been over four years,” Abbey eases, still rubbing my arm. “It’s past time we all move on. Darby would want us to. She’d want Luca to love again. She’d want Gia to have a family. She’d want Zar to be happy, too. And that can be you. Just be patient with Luca. He still blames himself.”
“Why?”
“Because when fate takes someone from you, you blame yourself.”
I nod, finding it hard to talk through the strangle in my throat.
I’ve gone from a girl who tried to feel nothing to a professional paid to show no emotion to a woman now with tears springing from my eyes at the mention of Luca, Gia, or even Zar.
For the rest of our brunch, I’m feeling everything, and I let myself love it. To love them. I love Gia’s giggles at Zar swiping whipped cream across her nose. Mine, too. I love how Gia crawls into Luca’s lap, and he holds her because she needs a nap. I love how Zar refills my coffee with the silver carafe on the table. And I love how Luca keeps gazing at me like I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.
By the end of our meal, my heart needs a break. I need to clear my head, see my dog, and talk to my sister.
I wish them all warm goodbyes before I’m finally alone, fishing for the keys to my car at the bottom of my purse before I stop at the sight of the man in the parking deck, leaning on my car.
Waiting for me.
“You broke the Red Rule,” Jameson says once I’m feet away. His beefy arms cross his chest. His ankles are crossed, too. He’s leaning on my driver’s door, confronting me. “He’s making it obvious,” he warns, “and you’re going to get fired or worse.”
“The Red Rule” is the nickname the officers at HGR Security have given for the rule that says you don’t fuck a client. Why?
I guess it’s for the red “inappropriate behavior” slips bad students used to get in school. I earned a lot of them growing up.
“We’re not fucking.” Still, I try to lessen the lie.
“And I’m not breathing,” Jameson huffs. “And since when do you go for a man like him? Richer than god? A possessive alpha asshole who has to prove something? And he’s a father? He acts like a family man, but he’s got dark kinks, I can fucking tell.”
I shrug. “Since when are you the jealous type?”
“Fine,” he confesses. I forgot how sexy Jameson’s green eyes are. “Yeah, I’m jealous. I wanted us to work, and I fucking tried, but you bailed. You took the HGR job in Atlanta and mailed me a ‘let’s just be friends’ card.”
“And you weren’t mad about it. So why are you being a dick now?”
“Because you need this fucking job, Scarlett.” He leans down, dangerously close to me, and I sense the camera on the concrete beam to my right, aimed right at us. “I know how much we get paid, but it’s not enough to afford that necklace, those clothes, and whatever you’re hiding. He’s not worth losing it all for. You’re good at this job. The best fucking at it.”
“I need more than my job,” I sneer.
“Well, you may lose it and him and someone’s life if you keep this shit up. You know better. Fucking is a dangerous distraction. That little girl can get hurt.”
I step to him. “I’ll kill anyone who tries.”
“What if it’s you?” He’s inches from my face, making my heart pound at the truth. “What if you hurt her by fucking her father? You know how shit can go south on this job. What are you thinking?”
“I can control it, Jameson. Don’t worry.”
I don’t fully believe myself, and he reads it in my eyes.
“Listen. I’ll protect you,” he swears. “I’ll protect that girl. Fuck, I’ll even protect your Daddy Dom because I’m paid to. But so help me, if your secret gets out of control and lives are at risk, I’m going straight to the boss.”
I snarl, “Don’t tell Charlie.”
“She’ll understand,” he argues. “Hell, she fell in love on the job, too, but she’ll need to know. She’ll have to replace you.”
“No.” I clench my fist. “I won’t let her down.”
“No.” He lurches, making me stagger back before he starts to storm away, warning over his shoulder. “You’re letting yourself down.”