Chapter 3
Gage
I pace back and forth in my living room, cursing. Nic isn’t answering her phone.
At least I know where Leah is. The entire day, I texted and called her. I called Dmitri. Their silence caused me to fear the worst.
If only she’d stayed. We could have talked about the problem and developed solutions together.
At the very least, we might have discussed strategies going forward.
She’ll need to know how to avoid the press, how to extricate herself from difficult questions, and how to disguise herself or find alternate exits when necessary.
The subtle art of evading bad PR has become second nature to me, but Leah has no experience in the matter.
I want to help her.
But she no longer trusts me.
Why should she, when my past has reared its ugly head to ruin her present?
I don’t blame her for running. But I wish she had told me where she was going.
The living room windows are too large, even though they’re mirrored to keep anyone from seeing in. It’s a feature of the building. To soothe my paranoia, I’ve even tried looking through the windows from the outside to check. They’re fine, they show nothing.
And yet, right now, I feel exposed. Visible. Scrutinized.
When Leah and I saw the reporters and paparazzi outside my building this morning, I struggled to breathe. My hands were shaking so hard, I had to grip the steering wheel to keep myself grounded. I hid it all from Leah, but the feelings of panic remain.
Turning off the lights doesn’t improve matters. I am an insect beneath a microscope, examined, studied. Pinned in place.
No, not pinned. I can escape.
I move to the bedroom. Here, the curtains are closed. I leave the lights off and sit on the floor. My back rests against the bed. I slow my breathing, force my shoulders to relax.
As my panic fades, a new emotion takes its place. Anger. How dare Nic do this to Leah? What gives her the right to thrust herself back into the spotlight with my name on her lips? She stole everything from me, all those years ago. Now she’s back to do it again.
I call Nicola again. This time, I leave a message. “Please, Nic. Take down the post. Retract your accusations. Leah has done nothing, and you know this.”
After ending the voicemail, I text her. Call me and ask for what you want instead of spreading lies .
Again, no response. I know she sees the message. She has probably listened to my half-dozen voicemails.
But she’s toying with me.
I make one more call, to a number I haven’t needed in fifteen years.
* * *
Leah
Two days after Nicola Johnson’s post, the internet is still buzzing with my name and likeness.
I’m not going out this week—I’m too afraid of reporters.
This means I do my tutoring over video call.
All of my students are thrilled because it means less effort and time to get together.
Thankfully, they don’t bring up my recent infamy.
It seems like my scandal hasn’t reached them; AoG is probably too far before their time.
Dmitri came home from work last night with my laptop and a suitcase full of my clothes. “Gage thought you might want these. He’d like you to call him.”
I winced. “I’m not ready.”
“You’re not ready to call him. But you’re ready to scroll through all the hate on VideYou?”
“VideYou?” I scoff. “For your information, I’m looking at PhotoGram.”
“Fuck, Leah. Stop it—it’s bad for you.”
Maybe it is bad for me, but the next day finds me doing the same thing. I bounce between sites, soaking in the negativity.
Dmitri sits on the other end of the couch. A reality show featuring mechanics and classic cars plays on TV.
He nudges my leg with his foot. “Let’s get out of here.”
I don’t look up from my phone. Comment after comment after comment. She’s a whore. He could do soooo much better. I bet her pussy is all stretched out . They don’t stop.
Each one hurts, but I continue to read, gobbling up the vitriol and hatred.
Dmitri yanks the phone from my hand.
“Hey!” I scramble toward him and try to get it back.
He holds it out of reach. “I said, let’s get out of here. This isn’t healthy.”
It’s healthy enough. I get up on my knees and reach for the phone.
“Do you remember what happened last time I held something out of your reach?” A smile quirks his lips.
“My panties.” The memory heats my blood. That night, the sex we had—it makes me tingle, just thinking about it. Still, I have a goal. I make a swipe for my device, but miss. “You stuffed them in my mouth. Are you going to stuff my phone in my mouth?”
“Don’t tempt me, little girl.” His muscles strain his shirt sleeves as he holds the phone away. His teasing smile holds a challenge, but I can also tell he’s serious about winning this game of keep-away.
I know he wouldn’t put the phone in my mouth, though. I lurch up once more in a futile effort to get it.
“That’s it.” Dmitri grabs my wrist and spins me around.
Suddenly, I’m lying face-down on his lap, unsure of how I got here. “Dmitri! What the hell?”
His cock is half-hard and getting harder against my stomach. I wiggle against him. Maybe I can seduce him into letting me have my way.
“If you’re gonna act like a brat, I’m gonna treat you like a brat.” He pats my ass. “Remember your safe word, because you might need it.”
“I—what?”
His hand comes down on my butt, the thud dull through my sweats.
“Hmm. That won’t do.” He pulls down my pants. “Nice undies, baby.”
Through the haze of my embarrassment and shock, I try to remember what underwear I have on today. In typical male fashion, Gage only packed my sexiest pairs. I think these are creamy lace with embroidered red roses.
Smack . Dmitri’s hand comes down. Not too hard at first, but after a few spanks, he adds more force.
I stubbornly keep quiet. He wants to take my phone and treat me like a child? Fine. I can’t stop him.
Except I could stop him. One little word, red , and it ends.
I purse my lips. I won’t safe word out. Not because I’m trying to be tough.
Not because I’m trying to prove a point.
It’s because the pain and the power are distracting.
For the first time since Sunday morning, I’m not thinking about my problems. There’s only me, Dmitri, and the warm heat blooming over my ass.
It doesn’t hurt much at all. In fact, the heat is arousing. More importantly, it’s comforting. Cleansing.
My eyes fill with tears.
I need these spankings. I fucking relish them. Every one that lands adds another element of heat, another crack of pain, another blossom of pleasure.
Without warning, Dmitri stops. “Baby?”
He pulls up my pants and lifts me so I’m sitting in his lap. “Oh, fuck, you’re crying.”
I hadn’t noticed. My eyes had felt teary, but I didn’t realize I was actually crying. He wipes my cheeks and kisses every tear track.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you?—”
“No—it felt good.” I wrap my arms around his shoulders.
My ass is hot and tender, but not in a bad way. My phone rests on the side table. I don’t want it anymore.
Dmitri’s gray eyes search my face. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” I sniffle.
“You’re killing me, baby.” He hands me a tissue. “You didn’t want me to stop?”
“No, I knew my safe word and everything. At first I was mad at you and I didn’t want to say it, but then…you were giving me exactly what I needed. It was cathartic.”
“I’m glad I could help.” He strokes my back. “Hey, listen. I was thinking. Come out to Kinasey with me.”
It takes me a moment to understand what he’s saying. Whenever the Montroses talk about going to Kinasey County, it’s for one reason. “Your family’s cabin?”
Cabin makes it sound more rustic than it is. The building is more like a mansion in the mountains.
“Yeah. Nobody will be using it. You can get away from the press. I’ll keep your phone on lockdown.”
I give him a pointed look. “I can control myself with my phone.”
He pats my ass. “Can you, though?”
“Shut up.” I roll my eyes and huff with annoyance. “We can’t leave town, anyway. I have to work. So do you.”
“I can take a few nights off. And you’re already working remotely.”
“I don’t know…” There are too many things to consider. Shouldn’t I stay here in case something happens? And Dmitri does have work. I can do video calls with my students; he can’t be Low Vice’s bouncer from Kinasey County.
Dmitri turns my face so he can kiss me. “Do you trust me, Leah?”
“Yeah.” I don’t even have to think about it.
“Then come to Kinasey.”
Like it’s that simple. Like my life isn’t imploding all around me.
His gray eyes peer into mine, full of affection and a touch of worry. He wants this for me and he believes it will help.
Maybe it is that simple.
I take a deep breath. “Okay.”
* * *
Dmitri
Leah smacks my ass as I unlock the cabin door. When I turn to give her a fake glare, she giggles.
“Oops.” Her eyes sparkle. “My bad.”
Her mood has improved considerably since we left the San Esteban city limits.
The whole drive up here, I couldn’t stop stealing glances at her smile, at the light shining in her blue eyes as she watched the landscape change from the valley to rolling hills to the mountains. I’ve never felt so fucking lucky.
And now, as we bring in the groceries we bought along the way, she’s flirting with me? It’s heaven.
The last time Leah and I were both at the cabin, I spent the entire weekend with a hard-on.
This time might be similar. I don’t want to push anything with her, not when she’s freaked out over her newfound notoriety.
From the way she ogles me when we put away sandwich fixings, canned goods, and fresh produce, maybe I don’t have to worry about that problem.
“See something you like?” I drawl.
She flushes pink. “Nope. I was trying to see, um, into the cupboard.”
“Right.” I pack away the canned goods and dried pasta. We have enough fresh food to last three days, and enough nonperishables to last a whole week. Gage was cool about giving me a few days off. I talked to him while Leah packed. He told me to take as much time as Leah needs.
He sounded a little jealous.
I tried not to feel smug.
This trip isn’t about love or lust. It’s about keeping Leah safe. Giving her an escape.
“You’re fixing this, right?” I asked him over the phone.
“Of course I am.”
“Well, fix it faster. She’s doing better now, but it’s hard on her.”
His voice was steely. “I’m working on it.”
I didn’t push further. I trust the guy—at least, I trust him when it concerns Leah. He wants to take care of her as much as I do.
I turn to put the beer away and catch Leah looking at me again. She’s especially adorable this afternoon, in her yoga pants and T-shirt, her hair in two little buns at the top of her head. “All right, little girl. You need something. What is it?”
“Nothing.” She shakes her head. Her face is still pink. “I don’t need anything at all.”
She’s lying.
I glance around the kitchen. It’s large, probably the size of my living room and kitchen combined. This cabin was Granddad’s wedding gift to my parents. Like most of Granddad’s gifts, it’s over-the-top luxurious.
“Remember that time you came down here in the middle of the night?” I ask.
Leah smiles. “Last time we were here? Yeah. You were sneaking one of your dad’s edibles. You looked like I caught you with your hand in the cookie jar.”
“Yeah, that time.” I laugh.
“You acted so weird. Were you high, or what?”
“No.” I take a step toward her, then another. The tile floor is cool under my feet.
Goosebumps rise on her arms. She has to tilt her head back to see my face. “Then what was it? I stood here for ages, waiting to get some leftover cake from the fridge, and you didn’t move.”
“Do you remember what you were wearing?”
She gives me a puzzled look. “Pajamas, I guess.”
“Yeah. Let me tell you about those pajamas. The top was light purple. It had lace right here.” I trace a line across her T-shirt above her breasts.
Her pupils widen, darkening her blue eyes, obliterating the flecks of amber. She sucks in shallow breaths.
“And it came up to here.” I trace a line above her belly button. “And the little shorts you wore with it? Fuck, baby. They made your ass look so spankable. I stood behind the fridge door because I was trying to hide. You made my dick so hard it was painful.”
“I had no idea.” She rests her palm against my chest, just over my heart. “I wish I’d known.”
“Yeah? Why?”
“Because then I would’ve done this.” She grabs a hand towel and folds it a few times. After setting it on the floor in front of my feet, she kneels on top of it.
My heart thunders with anticipation. All my blood roars south. “Baby girl, what are you doing?”
“Let me taste your cock…Daddy.”