Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Thayer
I want her so badly that I can hardly think. I can hardly breathe. I’m so damn obsessed with my need to really make Savannah mine, I’m driving myself insane.
I hold her against me after she climaxes, breathing through my own need to fuck her, so damn hard it hurts.
But I can’t take advantage of her like that, and after everything she’s been through, that’s exactly what I’d be doing. She came to me for protection. I don’t regret putting her over my lap and I definitely don’t regret making her climax, but if I make love to her—
“Would aftercare include making love?”
Yeah, baby. With you, it absolutely would.
I love the way she feels against me, small and vulnerable and submissive. She clings to me like she needs me, and it’s been so damn long since I’ve felt needed.
I know a part of her wondered if what we did was real or not, and that’s my fault.
I can’t let go of the fact that we’re not supposed to be together.
Only a douche would take advantage of a girl who’s barely legal and practically family, and I pride myself on not taking advantage of women.
It can be hard sometimes, when women bring themselves to Le Luxe, ready to submit and eager to please, but I didn’t earn my position by fucking them over.
Real? Goddamn. Nothing in my life has ever been more real.
I run my hand through her hair, willing my pulse to stop. To give her the aftercare and attention she craves. I hold her to my chest until her breathing slows and settles.
“I need you safe, Savannah,” I tell her.
“I know.”
I run my fingers through her hair. “If the people after you find you, they’ll hurt you.” I clench my jaw and tell her the truth. She can take it. “I’d have to kill them.”
She doesn’t respond but catches her breath before she finally whispers, “Really?”
“Of course.”
“They call you The Savage, Thayer,” she says softly. “Why?”
I grit my teeth. I’m not sure I want to tell her. Where did she hear that?
I just earned her trust, and don’t want to do anything that jeopardizes it.
“I know who you are,” she says softly. “I know who Fabien is. I’m not as ignorant as you all may think.”
“I didn’t think you were—”
There’s a knock at the door. She looks at me with widened eyes before she looks down and realizes she’s naked on my lap. My dick throbs and I stifle a groan. Hello, blue balls.
“Get dressed,” I say in a low voice, as I guide her off my lap.
The sight of her running to get some clothes makes me stifle a second groan.
Jesus.
I rise, adjust myself, curse under my breath, and head to the door. I peek out. Cosette stands with a small black bag over her shoulder, biting her lip.
I blow out a breath. Totally forgot about the haircut.
“Just a minute.” I look over my shoulder to see Savannah’s wearing a little dress, likely with no panties on underneath in her haste to get covered. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
“Is this okay?”
“Yeah, baby,” I whisper tightly. “You look great. It’s Cosette.”
I open the door. “Hi,” I say with a smile that probably looks threatening because I swear Cosette cowers. “Come in.”
Savannah smiles warmly at her, looking as natural as can be, as if I didn’t just spank her ass and make her climax on my lap. But when her eyes drop to Cosette’s bag, her smile falters.
Poor girl doesn’t want to cut her hair. Who could blame her? Someone with highlighter-pink hair’s making a damn statement and changing that on her will mute her.
“Are you ready?” Cosette asks gently.
Savannah lifts her chin and nods. “I’m ready.”
It’s a big step, moving past her old self and into the new. A clear declaration that she isn’t who she once was anymore.
“Okay, let’s head to the bathroom. It’ll be easier to clean up in there, and it’s nice and spacious.” She looks over her shoulder at me. “Sir, they told me to remind you your guests will be here at ten o’clock.”
“Thank you.”
I take out my phone as Cosette covers the toilet seat lid with a towel. Savannah sits, draws her shoulders back, and lets out a breath.
My guests. I know exactly who’s behind this.
Me:
Lyam, why the hell do I have guests coming here at ten? I didn’t book anything. You have anything to do with this?
Lyam:
Shit. I totally forgot. I meant to tell you I booked them.
Me:
Who?
Lyam:
New slaves to apply as willing servants.
I blow out a breath. Willing servants are women who consensually agree to frequent our club unattached. If chosen, they become available for single members of our clubs for hire. I knew he was behind this.
Me:
Can you handle this, please?
Lyam:
I can’t, I won’t be there until two.
Me:
Fabien’s gone. What about Mario?
Lyam:
Needed back in the U.S.
Me:
Gwen?
Lyam:
Day off. Want me to reschedule?
Me:
No. They’re arriving soon. I’ll do it. Thanks
I don’t want to take Savannah with me to interview potential new hires, but I’m not comfortable leaving her unattended. I wasn’t supposed to have any engagements this morning.
My phone buzzes with another text from Fabien, informing me that he and Nicolette have left and checking in on Savannah, then another message from someone at home asking about the security detail for Maman.
I reply to an inquiry about our new building manager, and scan through a detailed update from our head of security.
I’m so fixated on catching up on business I’ve neglected, I finally look up.
I blink and stare. Savannah’s long hair pools on the floor around her like discarded ribbons. In front of me sits another woman.
I’d forgotten how Cosette’s a magician with a pair of scissors.
When Savannah turns to me, I’m transfixed with the soft pink of her cheeks, the perfection of her pursed lips, her bright eyes somehow enhanced by a shorter cut.
“We’ll need to dye it, sir,” Cosette begins.
“But the cut for now will make it easier for her to wear a wig. The dye job will take several hours. When should we begin?”
“Tonight. We’ll have time then.”
Savannah blinks in surprise. “We?”
“Of course. I’m not going to leave you to do this alone. I know it’s a big change.”
While Cosette puts away her things, Savannah’s eyes are fixed on me. “Thank you.”
I swallow and nod. Of course I can’t leave her to do this alone, but I didn’t know it meant so much to her.
Cosette stands, slings her bag over her shoulder, and smiles at me. “See you tonight, then?”
I nod. “Tonight. Thank you, Cosette.”
As she walks to the exit, we follow her. “And one more thing.”
Turning around to face me, she nods. “Yes?”
I keep my voice low. “I want to keep a low profile with Savannah. She’s here for a reason, and I don’t want to put her safety at risk.”
“Of course, sir,” Cosette says, inclining her head. “I understand.”
“Thank you.” I shut the door behind her.
“Do they all call you that?” I turn to see Savannah standing behind me, her arms crossed over her chest. I have no idea what she’s talking about. She has little wisps of hair on her face and clothes. I reach over and brush it off her nose.
“Call me what?”
“Sir. Since when have you gone from Thayer to Sir?”
Is she jealous? She’s totally jealous.
“I’m the owner of a kinky sex club, Savannah,” I say in a low voice. “Yes, of course they call me Sir. Not only out of respect but because it’s who I am here. Many of our clients don’t even use their names. I don’t demand it, though. Sometimes, Thayer works just as well.”
I take her by the hand and lead her to the bathroom. “We have to go to a meeting shortly. You’ll need to clean up and get your wig on before we go.”
I wish she was mine. She wouldn’t be showering by herself. I’d join her, wash her hair and body and choose her clothes. But she isn’t mine, and she isn’t ready for any of that yet.
So I let her go.
Nodding, she steps into the bathroom and grabs a towel. “I’ll be ready quickly. Thayer?”
“Yes?”
She steps out of her clothes, giving me a quick glance at her absolutely perfect body, before stepping into the steaming shower.
“Have you and Cosette ever been a thing?”
I normally don’t talk about my past or my relationships, but I feel she deserves to know the truth.
“No. I don’t ever get personal with women who work for me.”
She sticks her head out of the shower. “So that crosses me off the potential hire list, eh?”
I give her a withering look that for some reason makes her giggle before she goes back into the shower.
“Oh my God!”
I can’t see her through the fogged glass of the shower door.
“What?”
I’m sliding the glass shower door open before she can respond. Hot water drenches me immediately.
“My hair!” she gasps. “It’s so short! There’s like nothing to lather!”
I breathe more easily, but it doesn’t stop me from slapping her wet ass. I enjoy my red handprint on her naked skin.
“You scared me. Thought something was wrong.”
“I scared you?” she says, clearly amused. “I didn’t know I had that much power.”
I blow out a breath and shake my head, sliding the door shut. “Finish up, Savannah.”
You have way more power than you think.
I go back into the room and change because my clothes are sopping. I glance at the time. We have to move.
My phone buzzes with a call from our head of security.
“Yeah? Any luck?”
“No, sir. The coast is clear. I suspect it was falsely triggered.”
We’ve been trying to find the source of our security breach with no luck.
There was nothing out of place on the dance floor, and when we scanned our security footage, everything was as it should be.
Then who triggered the alarm? Call me paranoid, but I’ve learned over the years to trust my gut instinct.
“Thank you.”
I call Maman’s bodyguard just to be safe. “Yes, sir?”
“How’s everything there?”
“Fine, sir. All calm. Your mother went shopping with her sister today, and everything went as planned.”
I hang up with him and text Fabien.
Me:
You two still traveling?
His lack of response tells me he is traveling or something’s wrong, so I text Nicolette next.
Me:
How are you two?
Nicolette:
Other than being totally freaked out at the thought of my sister alone with you, fine, thanks.
I smirk to myself. She’s ballsy sometimes.
Me:
You have a problem with that?
Nicolette:
Oooooh, yeah. But she’s an adult and so are you, so…
She sends an emoji with a zipper on a smiley face. I take a minute to think before I reply.
Me:
Thanks. I promise she’s safe with me. I’ll take good care of her.
She hearts my text. I put my phone in my pocket.
What exactly does it mean to take care of someone like Savannah?
“Okay! I’m ready!”
I turn around to see Savannah in a tight-fighting black dress that looks like it’s made of crepe paper. No fucking way is she wearing that.
“You are not going out in that.”
“Young lady,” she says, with her hand on her hip. “You forgot the young lady.”
“Fine. You’re not going out in that, young lady.” I take a step toward her. She’s a sassy piece of work and a ray of sunshine all at once.
Looking down, she sighs. “Why? I thought it would be appropriate in a club like this, no?”
“If you were available? Maybe. When you’re with me? No way in hell, woman.”
“When I’m with you?”
I pretend I don’t see the longing in her eyes. I pretend I don’t hear the yearning in her voice. I’d destroy this woman and won’t let myself do that.
“You know you’re with me because I promised your sister I’d protect you.” I step away from her so I don’t lift her in my arms and kiss the fuck out of her. “If I can’t trust you to pick out something half decent, I’ll do it myself.”
Apparently, she’s getting used to me because my acerbic tone doesn’t even faze her. “Oooh, so we’re playing that game now? Where you pick out my clothes?”
I close my eyes and exhale. This isn’t a game. It never was. Does she have any idea what the stakes are?
I turn to face her. “Savannah.”
Paling, she puts on a brave front. “Yes?”
I blow out a breath. Fuck it.
We’re going to interview new hires. She’s with me for an indefinite period of time.
And Jesus, if I don’t have this woman…
I clear my throat and point to the floor in front of me. When I speak, my voice comes out in a low growl. “Come here.”
I love the way her cheeks flush. I love the way she holds my gaze as she walks over to me. I love how the energy between us crackles, like she’s a live wire and I’m about to be burned.
When she reaches me, I pull her closer. I weave my fingers in her short, damp hair and admire its length. “Still perfect for pulling,” I whisper. When I tug her hair, her eyelids flutter closed and she moans, low and deep and hungry.
I can’t help brushing my lips across hers.
She tastes so good, I want more. When she licks my tongue, I moan against her lips, unable to control myself.
I lift her up by the ass, and her legs quickly encircle me.
I deepen the kiss and claim her mouth, I bite her lip and revel in the sharp gasp of pain and the way she moans.
I’ve never wanted anyone so badly in my life. Every other woman before her is a wisp of imagination, nothing more than a fading dream whose plot lines I’ve forgotten. I already know making love to her would be fucking unforgettable.
I pull away with reluctance. “We have to go,” I mumble with a growl.
“Where to? They can wait,” she says, reaching for my collar.
“Savannah,” I groan. “I have to do interviews.”
“Fuck the interviews,” she whispers in my ear, giving me one more kiss. I kiss her back, then release her, slide her onto the floor and give her a warning look.
“Don’t tempt me, woman. I mean it. If you tempt me again—”
“You’ll show me the closet?” she asks hopefully.
I narrow my eyes at her. “No, I’ll tie you to my bed and bring you to the edge of climax and leave you there.”
“Thayer!” she gasps. “You wouldn’t!”
I give her a stern look. “I would. Happily.” My imagination quickly darts down the dark alley of what orgasm denial would look like with her.
Fuck.
“Okay, alright,” she says. “What do you want me to wear?”
I swallow and walk over to the wardrobe where I’ve instructed my staff to put clothes I picked out for her. I choose a slim-fitting pair of black jeans and a low-cut pale blue cashmere sweater.
“This is the softest thing I’ve ever felt,” she says. “It’s like wearing a cloud!”
My chest swells. I tug a lock of her hair. “You like it?”
“Love it.”
Once she’s dressed, I open a small black box I’ve kept on top of my dresser. “The final piece,” I say, opening the box. My heart turns when I see the fine links of metal and the heart-shaped lock. I lift the collar and hold it up for her. “You’ll wear things to indicate you’re with me.”
She watches silently, her lips slightly parted, as I slide the necklace around her. I lock it and slide the key into my pocket.
“I’m not sure how they’ll know that I’m—”
I slide the second piece of the necklace out of my pocket and she eyes it warily. I snap the chain on her neck.