9. 9 MCKENNA
9 MCKENNA
Woodward Avenue is busy this morning as we pass by tourists, taking selfies in front of the sites and crowds of people with shopping bags.
But my mind is too scattered, going in a million different directions to enjoy the experience.
My body aches, reminding me of everything Adrian did to me last night. It sets off a fresh wave of desire.
We stop to cross the street and I refuse to move.
“Come on, Mckenna, we have an appointment.”
But I take three steps back from the crosswalk and lean against the cool brick of some art déco building.
I am rebelling, but I need this moment.
From the time Adrian woke me up from an interrupted sleep this morning, I felt out of my skin.
He showered me in a very clinical, no-nonsense way and then ushered me into the dining room. Instead of feeding me scraps this morning, a butler brought out my favorite cup of tea, along with fresh crusty bread and all the breakfast trimmings.
But I knew something was up when Adrian smirked as he watched me devour fresh strawberries.
“Aren’t you having any?” I said it to break the silence.
“No,” Adrian leaned forward and took my chin in his fingers. “I had the sweetest treat in the middle of the night, Mckenna.”
My cheeks heated with shame.
The realization that it wasn’t a dream slammed into me with the cold water of truth.
I kind of knew that Adrian’s lips against mine, his muscled chest under my hands, and his throbbing cock were real.
But I was so exhausted it felt like a dream.
Until that orgasm.
“You took what you wanted.”
“When I want to, remember that, Mckenna. Who do you belong to this weekend?”
“You, Sir.” I hate myself for saying it.
“That’s right. Here’s how today is going to go. First, we have an appointment with a stylist. You need something to wear other than those rags you brought,” he said, pressing a finger against my lips. “Before the engagement party, Ava is performing at the Orchestra Hall.”
“No,” I close my eyes.
“Oh, yes.” That snarky tone of his voice tells me that he knows exactly how much I’m not going to enjoy this
“That’s so like her, to have a performance and then a party all about her right after.”
“Yeah, she’s quite pleased with how the schedule worked out.”
“Want to skip the engagement party and go to Hawaii?” The cool, angry gaze in his eyes told me that I said the wrong words.
“No, I do not. Hurry up, we are leaving in five minutes.” Adrian stood from the table. I willed myself not to feel bad about hurting his feelings, but I couldn’t pull it off. The stark truth is, I never wanted to hurt him.
“She’s really playing over there?” I gesture now to the massive building on the corner, the Orchestra Hall.
“To a sold-out crowd of two thousand, she’s debuting a score from her new album by Jean Phillipe.”
“And your parents are coming?” A wave of panic rolls through my body.
I don’t want to face them. I’m angry that they left my father to fend for himself.
“No, they are away and will host another party for Ava this summer. The wedding is next year. The groom-to-be, Oliver, is from Detroit.”
“Lucky him to be getting her.”
“Let’s go, Mckenna. You will be on your best behavior tonight.”
Adrian pulls my arm, and I come off the brick wall.
We cross the street, and while I’m not a bitter person or a jealous person, I do wonder why good things happen to a bitch like Ava.
She terrorized me all through our childhood and into our teen years, and if it wasn’t for her, maybe things would have worked out differently.
I swallow bile as we pass the Orchestra Hall.
If it wasn’t for Ava, I would have said yes to Adrian at least once.
Ava made my life hell and relished in it.
My only saving grace was I was better at riding horses than her. Horses terrified her. She’d ride but interact with the horse as little as possible, and she never placed in competitions. Even when she’d cut my strips and blame it on the staff.
I remember the look on her mother’s face when she realized it was Ava who had damaged my tack. But they always let Ava get away with everything because she was a prodigy and needed to be protected.
Eventually, her parents gave in to her demand to stop riding–they always gave in to her -and my competition life got easier. I went on to win the State Championship and several National Junior titles.
“Here we are.” Adrian steers me up the steps of an old brick building.
He presses the doorbell, and a moment later, the heavy wooden door swings open, revealing a petite woman with red, frizzy hair.
“Mr. McIntyre, it’s so nice to see you again. I’ve put aside some gowns at your request. Come, this way.”
“Thank you, Veronica.”
My head reels as Adrian pushes me to follow the woman. Her high heels clack on the thin carpet as she leads us down a long hallway to a room with white walls and racks of dresses on the perimeter of the room.
The place is elegant and upscale, with pedestal vases of flowers by the doorways, mirrors everywhere, and tear-drop lights offset the pot lighting from above.
The shoe display makes my mouth water. The shoes are organized from darkest to lightest on the floor below the rack.
A slender woman with a French braid is waiting with her hands clasped in front of her.
Visiting stylists for a special evening out, like when my father got an award, or we went to a concert or play, used to be a regular part of my life, and grief swirls in my belly for all that I lost.
My mother and I left with a bag each of whatever we could grab while the Feds raided the house and our handbags.
At the time, I didn’t think it weird that my father had given me eight thousand dollars in cash the week before and put it in an envelope in my favorite Armido bag. I didn’t tell anyone about that, and I won’t. It’s helped my mother and I survive all this time.
“This is Cath. She’s helping us today. Mr. McIntyre, I put aside the suits you requested. Your custom Indochino suit arrived this morning. It’s lovely. I think you’ll like it.”
“I appreciate how fast you work, Veronica. But we need to focus on Mckenna.”
“Yes, I can see that.” Veronica steps close to me and takes my hand. She tugs me to stand on a white circle on the floor.
She and Cath slowly walk around me in a circle. “She has flattering hips.”
“An okay figure,” Veronica agrees.
In the mirror, I catch Adrian’s lips twitch.
With an effort, I stand still and let them do their assessment. “I want something that shows off her figure and draws the eye to her.”
“It’s Ava’s night. I don’t want to take her spotlight.” I put all the sarcasm I can into the words.
Adrian lifts an eyebrow. “The sun can’t take Ava’s spotlight.” He steps right in front of me, and I feel like I am prey about to be eaten. “I want everyone to know that you are mine. I need to show you off.”
“If I had her figure, I’d want to be shown off too,” Cath interjects.
My face burns red, but the way Adrian’s looking at me makes my pulse race, and I hate myself for it.
I am also relishing this moment because it’s been a long time since I was fussed over.
“A gorgeous figure, to be sure. What about this one?” Veronica takes a blue shimmery dress from the rack to her left and holds it next to me.
“Too dark of a blue,” Adrian says.
“Yeah, though it does look great with her complexion. She should get her hair taken care of. I can see the frazzled ends.” Cath frowns.
“She’s booked in for a hair appointment later today. I don’t like the blue. Can we see that gold number?” Adrian says.
“Of course,” Veronica says.
The gown is a dark gold color, and it’s gathered at the waist with a shimmery overlay.
“I’d like her to change into that one, please,” Adrian says.
Cath takes the gown and hangs it up on the empty rack.
“Mr. McIntyre, I have to suggest this one.” Veronica takes a light pink dress off the rack, and my stomach sinks to the ground.
I can’t recall the designer, but I have seen Ava wear this type of dress before. I can just imagine how she’d sneer at me.
“No. I need something more revealing,” Adrian says.
“We have this green one here. It’ll bring out her eyes,” Veronica says.
The green dress is sheer on the skirt with a cut up the leg that’d show a lot of skin.
“Yes, put it on the keep rack,” Adrian says.
“What about this burgundy gown with the cape shoulders?” Cath plucks out a gown with flowing fabric.
Adrian tilts his head. “I need to see her in it. I trust there are undergarments set for Miss Moran to try?”
“Whatever she needs, you can pick. I have pulled some that will go well with each dress, and after I take her measurements, I can better advise,” Veronica says.
“Perfect. Not that I want her to wear much under the dress, but options are good, aren’t they, Mckenna?” Adrian lifts my hair off my neck, and I feel about two inches small.
“Yes, Sir.”
I like objectification. I’m not going to deny it.
And the way they talk about me as if I am not here, how Cath points out my dark circles, and Veronica tsks at my dry hands, makes my stomach turn with shame on the edge of desire. But how Adrian raises an eyebrow or tilts his head, his gaze filled with distance, is what makes me wet.
“There is this sparkly dress with a low back; it might be what you want for this evening,” Cath says.
She takes it off the rack, and it glimmers in the room’s light. The gown has a black lacy underlay with many sparkles.
“She’ll definitely try that on. We have enough to get started, ladies, if you’ll excuse us?”
“Of course, Mr. McIntyre, if you need us, there is a buzzer by the door,” Veronica says.
“Help yourself to refreshments,” Cath says, indicating a sideboard with a platter of fruit, pastries, and a coffee service.
The two women leave, and Adrian slides his hands under the silky shirt he picked for me to wear today.
He takes it off and throws it across the room.
“What gown do you like, Mckenna?”
He claps a hand against the nape of my neck, tilts my head so that I am staring into his eyes. I swallow, not wanting to answer because I know the burgundy dress isn’t his pick.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s what you like, Sir.”
He traces my bottom lip with his thumb. “It’s a direct question, Mckenna. Answer.”
“The burgundy one.”
“Ah, the one that hides most of you. It is classic, beautiful, and elegant. All the things you once were.”
All of these gowns are elegant and beautiful and classic, but the way he says it is making the others feel like rags, somehow.
“Yes.”
“Do you wish it was different?” He presses his body against mine, his solid muscles cradling me as he tilts my head down even more.
“I wish my father was in his lab and my mother and I hadn’t lost our home. Yes, I wish a lot of things were different.”
“What else was different?”
“That I wasn’t standing here with you.”
The anger flashes in his eyes, making them dark pools. He lets go of me abruptly. I stumble towards the floor, catching the rack for balance.
“How much did I bid on you again?” he touches my leg with the toe of his shoe, and I scramble back. His tone of voice is calm and steely.
Adrian would never hurt me.
I remind myself of that as I force myself to exhale.
Even after I gave that interview to the journalist.
But his hard tone makes me think he would hurt me. The air is heavy with that threat between us.
“Four million dollars.”
“I thought you were worth that much, Mckenna. I didn’t want anyone else to win you. I know the 500k is not going to get you back to the life you’re accustomed to, but it’s enough to finish your education—enough to look after your mother.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You must remember that.” He bumps his toe against my leg, wraps my hair in his fist and wrenches my head back. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Who owns you?”
I lick my lips. The cruel look in his eyes is raising fiery sensations along my arms. “You own me, Sir.”
He tugs my hair roughly, then abruptly lets it go, stomps to the rack, and pulls off the black shimmery gown. “Put it on. This is what I want you to wear tonight.”
He flings the gown on a sofa behind him, and I take off my clothes, my hands shaking.
“I might as well use that pretty mouth.”
My throat goes dry. I curse my body for how it responds to his demand. But I get on my knees and slide my hands up the back of his legs to his belt.
“This is a reminder to think before you speak, hellion. That mouth should be wrapped around my cock or quiet. I’m going to fuck it hard and fast, and I swear there better not be a single drop of my cum on the floor.” He unzips his pants, and his cock springs out.
It’s big. And I remember how it tasted in my mouth, ached holding it on the car ride over to his house.
His eyes are blazing with anger and raw need.
My nipples are hardening in the cool breeze.
He grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls. There’s a drop of pre-cum on the slit of his cock, and I lick my lips. I encircle his cock with my fingers and take the head into my mouth, running my tongue over the drop of cum. He makes a sound as his hand presses against my nape and I suck his cock.
His musky scent fills my nostrils, and my heart beats against my chest like a trapped bird.
I don’t know why he is angry right now, but he’s taking it out on me.
I lick, lapping his length. He lets out a curse and then thrusts his hips into my face. I stretch my lips to accommodate his girth and keep my mouth open and relaxed.
“That’s it, that’s so damn pretty. I wish you weren’t, Mckenna. Maybe then I could actually hate you.” His cock pistons into me, his anger the force that is driving his speed.
I’m afraid it’s going to slip out of my mouth, but I concentrate on keeping my jaw relaxed, and his cock slides even deeper past the bump on my throat. I want his cock in my pussy that’s clenching with need. Juices are running down between my legs. He thrusts his hips, pushing his cock further into my throat. I whimper around it, wanting more and hating myself. But the feel of him in my mouth is ramping up my own pleasure.
“Damn, you are so fucking hot and tight, and I’m going to go so deep. Swallow me, hellion.”
I close my mouth on his cock, taking him even deeper as I swallow. His cock slides deep in my mouth and is the only thing I am aware of.
It’s so much he thrusts even further down my throat. He eases the hold on my hair and lets out a deep growl of pleasure, setting off a fresh wave of desire racing across my skin. I want him to touch me.
When he strokes my cheek with the back of his knuckles, I cry out, rocking my hips forward.
His touch zings straight to my pussy, and it throbs with the want, the need for him to touch it, to give me relief.
Oh, God. I hate how much I love this and that is sending a keen shiver of shame down my spine as I swallow his cock again as he thrusts forward, letting out a hiss between his teeth.
He slows down his pace, and I chance a glance upwards to see the anger in his eyes has cleared, his expression is back to being softer, and he’s looking at me as if he gives a damn.
His cock feels thick and heavy in my throat. I swallow, and just as I think I can’t take it anymore, he eases it out a fraction and pivots hard into me.
I work my jaw and swallow, and my throat is dry, but my mouth fills with saliva.
“Make me proud, hellion.”
Warm liquid shoots down my throat.
I swallow as fast as I can, partly because I’m afraid of the consequences, but also—and I hate myself a little for this—because I do want to make him proud.
“That’s a needy slut, swallowing every last drop of my cum.” I whimper as my lips work to stay sealed over his cock. When I’ve swallowed every last drop, he releases my hair and slides his cock out of my mouth. “You’re a beautiful woman, Mckenna.”
It’s praise, and I flush from the compliment.
Do I wish it was a good girl?
Yes, but anything is better than that detached, angry tone he’d used with me.
“Now, put on the gown.”
He tucks himself back in as if nothing happened.
I stand and have to force myself not to brush against his body as I walk by him.
I take the gown from the couch. The soft fabric in my hands is so luxurious that I almost cry.
The shimmery beads are delicate, and the black lace underlay is so delicate.
Taking my time, I step into the gown, holding the bodice to my chest. “Can you zip it up please, Sir?”
“Yes, Mckenna,” Adrian steps beside me and carefully zips up the gown.
“Yes, this is perfect. Pick whatever shoes you think will go with it.”
“Thank you.” I brush the skirt with my trembling fingers and spin, catching sight of the low back.
I feel like a princess.
“This is a beautiful dress.”
“You make it beautiful. All eyes are going to be on you tonight.”
I stride over to the mirror, my stomach in a knot of nerves. Adrian said nice things, but it chafes me at the same time.
Especially because my body doesn’t care what my mind is warring with. My nipples are beaded because in this dress, you can’t miss that.
“I know you said you wanted to see everything, but I think this shows my nipples.”
“I like these nipples.” Adrian steps behind me, his lips brushing my ear, and he presses his hands against my breasts; the sequins are rough against my sensitive skin. His muscular form is increasingly familiar to me and he grabs me as I try to leave his embrace. “You’re mine, hellion.”
I can’t help the gasp as he grazes my neck with his teeth. My belly flutters as he licks the flesh of my neck. “But you’re right. We will have to cover them up to take you out in public.”
He lets go of me, steps back and I feel discarded and curse myself for craving his touch. “Veronica said she had undergarments.” He picks up a box from the bench and pulls out a beautiful bra and panties set, puts it to the side and pulls out a pair of nipple covers.
“They really did think of everything. Those are exactly what I need.”
“They’ll stay on?” His tone is back to being cool and detached as I spin to face him.
“Yes, I’ve used them lots of times.” Like we’re talking about the weather.
“Like when?” He cocks an eyebrow.
“What do you mean?” I channel all the haughtiness I can into my tone.
Adrian smiles, and it feels like all the angst between us is suspended, but a new tension is in the air. “Give me an example of an event. You and I were both at where you wore those. I want to recall if I noticed.”
A hollow feeling settles over me as my mind whirls through the glitzy events. That was my life once, and it isn’t anymore, and being reminded of it hurts.
“The innovation awards.” I turn from him so he doesn’t see me blinking back tears.
“Your dad was so happy that night. My father told me Davis was sure he wouldn’t win.”
“His success always surprised him. He isn’t a bad man," my voice wobbles.
“You wore that gray lace dress with those thin straps.”
“Yes, a floor-length skirt with flowers and spaghetti straps.”
“I liked the soft curls in your hair. We’ll tell the hairstylist to do that. Get dressed. Time for the next appointment.” He steps behind me and back to that detached way. He unzips my dress. I want him to brush the hair off my shoulder, to cup my ass. I shake off the silly thoughts of wanting.
“What am I going to wear under the dress?”
He smirks. “These will work,” he says, reaching inside his suit pocket and dropping a lacey pair of sheer underwear into my hand.
“Oh no.”
“Yes, my little hellion. I am going to use you well tonight. They are vibrating panties controlled with an app on my phone.”
“Oh God.”
“God doesn’t control your orgasms. Tonight, I will.” His smile is all cocky and evil as he gazes at me.
My cheeks are blazing hot, but my pussy is throbbing. My mouth is dry as I anticipate being in a crowd of people, squirming in my theater seat. He can’t be serious.
“I can’t wait either.” He brushes a stray hair off my face and that single touch makes me crave him even more. “Here.” He holds open a small pink shopping bag.
I drop the panties in, along with the nipple covers. “Good, hellion. Get changed now.”
“Yes Sir.” The whole time, my heart is racing with anticipation as I throw my clothes on. Before I have my shoes on, Veronica and Cath are waltzing back into the room.
“Did you decide on shoes?” Veronica asks.
“Those black ones,” Adrian says, pointing to a pair of Jimmy Choo pumps with flowers on the side.
“Very well. Should I deliver the gown to you?”
“Yes, please, and the shoes. And this one, too.” Adrian picks up the burgundy cape dress from the rack.
“Good choice,” Cath says.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“Don’t say that I don’t reward you, hellion.”
Veronica smiles, and Cath ducks her head.
This man is going to ruin me in more way than one.