Chapter 18
Eighteen
Kingston
Dealing with work is a lot easier now that I know Kristin is alive and well.
She’s not at the office today, but the simple fact that she’s going to return makes my burden feel lighter.
I can only imagine how light I’ll feel when I step down from my role as CEO.
I like my life, and I want to spend more time actually living it.
I don’t need the newest and best of everything. Not a lot is required for happiness.
The sun is starting its descent to the horizon when my personal assistant, Fareed, knocks on my door. “Do you need anything before I shut my desk down for the night?”
“No, thank you,” I say, stretching my arms out in front of me. I should get going soon, too.
Then my phone rings.
The caller ID reads Joel .
“Sorry, I have to take this,” I say, my heart thumping so hard, I can barely hear the words.
“No problem. Goodnight, Kingston.”
“Night, Fareed.”
I pick up the phone. “Do you know how much fucking trouble you’re in right now?”
“Like you fucking care.” His voice is quiet, but snide. “All you care about is work, nothing else. You’re at work now, aren’t you?”
With a sigh, I say, “Yes, but that’s not all I care about.”
“You never cared about me.”
“That’s not true.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Where are you? We can talk things out.”
“No thanks, Pops. You’ll just sic the police on me.”
It’s the truth, I would. “Fine, we can talk things out right now. You need to know, I wasn’t able to care for you like I wanted.”
“You didn’t want to do shit. You left me with Mom all the time. She told me how you really felt.”
“You’re going to believe her because she’s your mother,” I say, “but she also loathes me. It’s probably too much to ask of you to ignore the programming you received at her hands.
But I loved you, Joel. I love you even now, when I’m so angry I want to throw things.
I love you even when, yeah, I would turn you over to the police in a heartbeat. ”
“Yeah, I know you would.”
He’s quiet, breathing heavily.
“Joel,” I say gently, “this doesn’t have to be the end of things.
We can talk this out. Get you some help.
I know Rayanne and Steve probably manipulated you into a lot of things you wouldn’t have ordinarily done.
” I don’t know this, but he sounds distressed.
If I could just calm him down, I could talk him into turning himself in. Or at least get him to consider it.
“It’s over,” he says. “I’m getting the fuck out of here. You’re no longer my father.”
“Joel—”
“Don’t try to stop me, or you’ll regret it. I’ll destroy what you love most.”
What the fuck is that supposed to mean? My mind immediately goes to Ella. I’m a thousand times glad that Bash and I hired Ironwood to watch over her, otherwise I wouldn’t be allowing her out of my sight.
“Joel,” I say, “think about what you’re doing. We could probably get you some help, a lighter sentence, if you turn yourself in. I’ll help you—I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
“Fuck you, you liar.”
He hangs up.
I stare at my phone for a long, long time while I let my emotions settle. Maybe I just need to accept that there’s nothing I can do to get through to Joel. I wrote him off when he was cruel to Ella, and there’s no reason to bring him back into my life. He can’t be redeemed—at least, not by me.
Needing to hear her voice and ensure she’s safe, I call Ella.
She answers almost immediately. “Hey, Daddy.”
“Baby girl. How are you?”
“I’m good. Just waiting for you and Bash to get home.”
“He’s not back yet?”
“No, he had a dinner with his new agent and some of her other clients.”
“He didn’t invite you?” I ask sharply.
She laughs. “He did, but I’m not in the mood. It feels weird being followed around by bodyguards, and I’d feel like a poser, anyway.”
I frown at the picture window behind my desk. I don’t want her to feel weird or left out.
“King, it’s okay,” she says quietly. “I really wasn’t in the mood to hang out with a bunch of people. Besides, it’s nice getting a bit of alone time. I love you and Bash, but sometimes it’s nice to hang out on my own.”
“Well, I have a few more things to do here at the office,” I say, “and then I’ll be home directly. So don’t get too used to your solitude.”
“Maybe I won’t be here when you get back,” she says with a teasing note in her voice. “Maybe I’ll go out anyway.”
“If you do, let your bodyguards know. They’ll take you wherever you want.
” And she wouldn’t have to wait for them to pick her up—I rented a suite in the building for them to use while they’re on duty, just a floor below ours.
This way, Ella can come and go whenever she wants to while still being safe.
Ella makes a hmm sound. “Maybe I’ll be a brat and go without them.”
“Don’t make me tie you up, little girl.”
“Well, that sounds fun,” she says, her voice turning sultry.
“Then stay put. I’ll tie you up tonight, wrap you up like a present for when Bash gets home. I’ll make you come again and again while we wait for him.”
With a tiny gasp, she says, “Yes, please, Daddy.”
“Stay put. Give me…” I look at the clock. “One hour.”
“Maybe I should get started now while I wait for you.”
“Don’t you dare touch that little cunt,” I say. “You do, and you’ll regret it. Do you understand me, little girl?”
“Yes, Daddy.” Her voice is even breathier.
“One hour. You can wait.”
Ella
I’m not entirely sure that I can wait. I want to touch myself now and relieve some of that delicious needy sensation between my legs…but if I wait, it’ll feel all the better, because it’ll be Kingston and Sebastian touching me.
If neither of them is home in an hour, though, all bets are off.
Sebastian texts me before I set down my phone. Thinking of you. Helena wants to meet you. And I promise I didn’t bring you up—Pat did .
Pat Chrome, from Church of Fortune. Holy shit. I knew Pat Chrome shared one of my videos on her social, but I didn’t realize she was fan enough to actually bring me up to her agent.
I write back, Thanks for letting me know. And yeah, I’d love to meet Helena sometime .
I’ll put you two in touch tomorrow so you can set something up .
Thanks . I set down my phone and try to calm my speeding heart.
Now I’m restless as fuck. Horny and excitable.
I grab my notebook from the coffee table in front of me and find a pen. There’s no way I’m calm enough to write new lyrics, but I can definitely review some older ones. Even without a keyboard here at Kingston’s, I can think about how they go with the melodies I’ve memorized.
I lose myself for a few minutes, sprucing up a new song.
Held by your mercy, held by your word turns into Bound by your mercy, bound by your word.
What can I say—Kingston’s talk of tying me up might be having some influence.
I change the title from “Cage” to “Ropes.” From there, I work on several other changes, making all of the verses fit the new theme.
When I next look at the clock, I’m dismayed to see that only ten minutes have passed. Dammit. I want Kingston to come home now and tie me up. I think of calling him, but if I do that, he’ll only be distracted and then it might take even longer for him to get here.
Well, there’s no reason I can’t get more in the mood while I wait. I browse my favorite online bookstore and am thrilled to discover that my favorite author, Sammie Starr, has a new book out. She writes kinky erotic romance that never fails to get my libido revving.
For the first time in years, I have enough money in my account that I can buy an ebook, full-price, and I don’t have to wait for a digital copy to come through the library.
I download the book and happily lose myself in a story of how the heroine falls in love with her dad’s best friend. The older man is a common hero type in Sammie’s books. It definitely works for me. As I read, I find myself superimposing either Sebastian’s or Kingston’s face over the hero’s.
The set-up is a good one: the heroine yearns for her dad’s friend and can’t do much about it for years, until she’s graduated from college.
Then she comes home for the holidays and goes to the dance club that he owns.
She pretends she doesn’t see him and has a good time.
After all, he never wanted her, and the one time she hinted that she liked him, he turned her down.
But when two guys try to make her leave the club with them, he gets involved. Saves her. Puts the two young punks back in their place. Comforts the heroine.
Then he takes her up to his office.
As I read about what they do, my skin grows hot and tight, my pussy wet. Holy fucking shit, this is the hottest story Sammie’s written yet.
His lips were soft yet commanding as he kissed her. She moaned into his mouth, asking for more.
Yanking down the flimsy straps of her dress, he bared her breasts.
“I’ve dreamed of these tits for years,” he growled, before taking one of her bare nipples into his mouth.
She cried out at the sharp, pleasurable sensation.
This particular passage is not making it any easier to not touch myself.
Blowing out a breath of sexual frustration, I drop my phone on the couch, careful to close the app first. I wonder what Kingston and Sebastian would say if they read one of these stories, or if they knew I was reading them.
Would they disapprove? Or would they ask to reenact the scenes? The thought turns me on even more.
That’s it. I can’t sit here like this any longer. I stand up and go to the bathroom, where I pull my curls up into crazy braids. Using some sparkly barrettes Sebastian gave me the other day, I pin them over the top of my head. It’s cute. Girlish. The guys will definitely approve.
I come out of the bathroom and stretch, do a few yoga poses to clear my mind and take my focus from my needy pussy to other parts of my body. Parts that don’t crave sex. The knuckle on my middle finger, for example. Nothing needy there.
Except then I imagine Sebastian taking my hand in his and kissing that knuckle with his eyes locked on mine, and another burst of lust shoots between my legs.
Fine. My ankles. Ankles aren’t sexy.
But they will be when Kingston wraps them in rope to spread my legs apart so he can feast on my pussy.
“I give up!” I shout at the empty penthouse.
As if in response, my phone buzzes with a text. I check the screen and see it’s from Kingston. Freaking hell, if he’s telling me he’s going to be late, I’m going to tie him up and not let him go to work tomorrow.
But the message that pops up has my blood turning to ice in my veins.
Ella, your bodyguards are compromised. Meet me in the garage. I’ll be waiting .
My fingers are shaking as I text back, What? What happened?
His response is immediate. Don’t ask questions. No time. Meet me downstairs. Hurry. I’ll be in my car .
I don’t know if I should pack a bag, or what.
I’m wearing a tank top and sweatpants. Should I put on jeans?
But he said there’s no time. Where is he going to take me?
Not to Ironwood, if they’ve been compromised.
The police station? What on earth could’ve happened?
Terrence and Cora seemed perfectly normal earlier today.
But he said there’s no time. I can’t question him.
I grab a hoodie, my phone, and my purse.
Then I take the elevator down to the parking garage.
Panic chokes me as I descend. None of this makes sense.
What could’ve happened to Ironwood? Ryder and Jaxon are good guys, and I’ve liked all of my bodyguards so far.
Kingston’s silver sports car is idling in front of the elevator with the passenger’s side closest to me. He must really be in a hurry if he isn’t out here opening the door for me—something he always insists on doing.
I yank open the car door and throw myself inside.
But it isn’t Kingston sitting in the driver’s seat.
It’s Joel.
He gives me a sarcastic smile. “Hello, little girl.”