Chapter 6
Chapter Six
NOLA
My legs feel like jelly as I close the door to Caleb’s office behind me. The hallway stretches before me, too bright, too long, my body floating somewhere between pleasure and shock.
Three steps down the corridor and my knees still wobble.
I smooth my dress for the tenth time, certain anyone who looks at me will know exactly what happened in that office.
That Caleb Asher’s fingers were inside me minutes ago while I tried to maintain professional composure. That I failed spectacularly.
The compound feels different now. Less intimidating fortress, more intimate minefield. Every corner might become the next place he decides to touch me. Every surface a potential spot where he could bend me over and—
I bite my lip hard enough to hurt. Nope. Not going there. I need to collect myself. Need to remember why I’m here, what my job actually is. Something about schedules and emails and not getting fired for having an orgasm at my desk.
The marble floor is cool beneath my bare feet as I walk. Two days ago I was interviewing for this position, terrified and desperate. Now I’m padding through hallways like I own them, and I can still taste strawberries and his mouth on my tongue.
I round the corner toward the main living area, intending to grab coffee before returning to work, when I nearly walk face-first into Franklin’s chest. His usually impassive face is different today.
Tight around the eyes, jaw clenched. On anyone else it would barely register, but on Franklin, it’s basically a five-alarm fire.
“Ms. Vance,” he says, his voice strained despite its formal tone. “Forgive me. I didn’t see you there.”
His attention is somewhere else entirely, gaze darting toward the front entrance, then back to me.
“Is everything alright?” I ask, momentarily forgetting the state of me in the face of his obvious distress.
“A slight... complication.” His hands, usually perfectly still at his sides, twist together briefly before he forces them back to attention. “A time-sensitive package was delivered to the Cooper Hills pickup point. It requires signature within the hour.”
“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”
Franklin’s eyes darken.
“It’s specialized equipment for Mr. Asher’s security system upgrade. The courier won’t hold it beyond noon, and Mr. Asher was quite clear about its importance.”
“So you’re heading into town to get it?”
“That’s the difficulty.” Something like genuine regret crosses his features.
“The butcher is delivering the specialty meat Mr. Asher requested for tonight, and someone must be here to receive it in the next twenty minutes. There’s no one else available, and Mr. Asher is still on his call with Mr. Davis regarding the security breach. ”
The security breach. The reason Caleb switched so abruptly from lover to CEO, leaving me trembling in his office like a guitar string someone plucked and walked away from.
“I could go,” I offer before I can think better of it. “To Cooper Hills. For the package.”
Franklin’s eyebrows lift a fraction of an inch. On him, that’s basically a gasp.
“You’re willing to drive into town?”
“Of course.” I shrug, as if it’s nothing. As if the thought of leaving the compound without Caleb’s knowledge doesn’t send a thrill of both excitement and fear through me. “If you tell me exactly where to go, I can be back before Caleb... Mr. Asher... even notices I’m gone.”
Franklin hesitates, his gaze sliding toward Caleb’s office door at the far end of the corridor. Finally, he reaches into his pocket and extracts a set of keys.
“The black SUV in bay three,” he says, his voice dropping slightly. “The package is at the Cooper Hills Mail Center on Main Street.”
I take the keys, cool metal against my still-warm palm.
“Should I tell Mr. Asher I’m going?”
Franklin’s gaze flickers again toward the closed office door.
“Perhaps better not to disturb him during the crisis. I’ll inform him if necessary.”
Which means he won’t. I know Franklin well enough by now to read between the lines of his silences.
“I’ll be quick,” I promise, already turning toward the garage entrance.
The garage is cavernous, housing a collection of luxury vehicles I’d need three lifetimes and a different zip code to afford.
The black SUV sits waiting, sleek and powerful.
I slide into the driver’s seat, the leather cool against my bare legs where my dress has ridden up.
The engine purrs to life beneath my touch, and something lifts in my chest. Something that feels suspiciously like freedom.
I ease the SUV forward, following the underground passage that leads to the security gate. The tall metal barrier parts automatically as I approach. Then I’m past it, on the winding road that leads down the mountain, and the bubble of laughter that escapes me is half disbelief, half exhilaration.
The road curves and dips before me, cutting through pine forest. Each turn takes me further from the compound, from Caleb’s watchful eyes, from the cameras that track every movement.
The windows are down, mountain air rushing in to cool my flushed skin.
I haven’t driven anywhere in months. Haven’t been behind the wheel of anything, let alone something that probably costs more than every car I’ve ever ridden in combined. It feels ridiculous. It feels amazing.
“Daddy,” I whisper experimentally into the empty car, testing how the word feels on my tongue outside the heat of the moment.
It sends a little thrill through me, followed immediately by a wave of embarrassment so intense I actually check the rearview mirror, as if someone might be sitting in the backseat judging me.
Two days ago I was sleeping on a friend’s couch, desperately hunting for any job that would keep me off the streets.
Now I’m driving a hundred-thousand-dollar SUV down a mountain, my body still humming from orgasms given to me by a man who wants me to call him Daddy while I work.
My life has gone completely off the rails. I’m not even sure there were rails to begin with.
Cooper Hills appears ahead, a small cluster of buildings nestled at the base of the mountain.
A dozen or so structures line the main street: general store, diner, hardware shop, the mail center.
It looks like a movie set of a small mountain town, too picturesque to be real.
The kind of place where everyone knows everyone and strangers get noticed immediately.
I park in front of the mail center. The package is waiting as promised, a brown box about the size of a laptop, surprisingly heavy for its dimensions. I sign for it with a flourish, then head outside into the sunshine.
And then I just... stand there. On the sidewalk. Package tucked under my arm. Blinking in the light like a mole that’s surfaced after months underground.
I’m not ready to go back up the mountain. Not yet.
Across the street, the Piney Creek Diner’s windows glow with warm light. A muffin and coffee would be heaven right now. And Caleb’s call with Davis will probably last at least another hour. What’s a few more minutes?
The bell above the door jingles as I enter, and the smell of coffee and baked goods wraps around me like a hug from someone who actually means it.
I order a blueberry muffin and coffee, then slide into an empty booth by the window.
The vinyl is cracked and the table is sticky in one corner and it’s the most normal I’ve felt in days.
I’ve barely taken my first bite when someone slides into the seat across from me. My head jerks up to find a woman with sharp eyes and a sharper bob staring at me with undisguised curiosity.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” she says, setting down her coffee mug. “You’re still alive.”
I blink at her until recognition dawns. The woman from the Wren Agency who processed my application. The one who warned me about Caleb’s “particular requirements” with a meaningful look that makes far more sense now than it did then.
“How on earth are things going up the mountain?” she asks, leaning forward, voice dropping low.
“Fine,” I say. “Things are... going well.”
She stares at me like I’ve just announced I survived being mauled by a bear.
“Going well? Honey, do you know how many girls I’ve sent up that mountain in the last year? Fourteen. And how many came back with all their sanity intact? Zero.”
Something tightens in my chest. Possessiveness, pride, a strange mix of both that I don’t want to examine too closely. “Well, I’m fine.”
“Clearly.” She laughs and raises her coffee mug in a mock toast. “You must be made of sterner stuff than the rest.”
Heat floods my face as I take another bite of muffin. If she only knew what “going well” actually meant. If she knew that I’m currently sitting here with my thighs still tingling from this morning and a word I can’t say in public lodged in the back of my throat.
“Just fine,” I murmur, unable to meet her eyes.
She watches me for a moment longer, then nods as if confirming something to herself. “Well, good for you. And good for him. Man needs someone who can handle... whatever it is he does up there.”
I think of Caleb’s fortress, his cameras, his control. The way he touched me this morning, claimed me, made me feel like the center of his universe before dismissing me without a backward glance when work called. The way that dismissal stung more than it should have.
“Yeah,” I say softly. “I think maybe I can.”
The bell jingles again, and the woman glances at her watch. “Well, I’ve got to run. But seriously, good for you, honey. Whatever you’re doing up there, keep doing it.”
She disappears through the door. I finish my muffin slowly, stretching these last minutes of normalcy before heading back up the mountain. Back to Caleb. Back to whatever awaits me there.
Fourteen girls. All gone within weeks. What makes me different?
I don’t have an answer. I’m not sure I want one.
The SUV purrs to life, and I point it back toward the mountain.