
Wishes
Kennedy moved to Austin for a fresh start. She didn't bargain on being exposed to a whole new lifestyle when her friends take her to a BDSM club and she runs afoul of one of the house Doms. Kennedy's history should have precluded any interest in Graham, no matter how hot the man is, but he pursues her with utter determination until she submits. Occasionally. When Graham's last serious relationship shows up and claims he has a child, Kennedy realizes that she doesn't know the man she loves at all. Still, she supports him as only a woman who loves her man can, despite her heartbreak and sorrow, and her own wishes have never seemed so unobtainable.
Genre: BDSM, Contemporary
Length: 48,933 words
WISHES
Allyson Young
EROTIC ROMANCE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance
Copyright © 2011 by Allyson Young
E-book ISBN: 1-61034-969-5
First E-book Publication: November 2011
Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
If you have purchased this copy of Wishes by Allyson Young from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
Regarding E-book Piracy
This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.
The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.
This is Allyson Young's livelihood. It's fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Young's right to earn a living from her work.
Amanda Hilton, Publisher
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to Tina, who went through hell and came out on the other side with integrity and purpose.
WISHES
ALLYSON YOUNG
Copyright © 2011
Chapter One
Kennedy Johnson wondered what the hell she was doing here. When she had agreed to a night on the town with Alberta and Madison, she thought they would hit a couple of bars and drink too much, tell lies, and ogle cowboy butts. When they made her change into a little black dress and stilettos, plus fix her hair and makeup, she changed the supposition in her head to some nice restaurant, followed by drinks in the lounge where they would drink too much, tell lies, and ogle cowboy butts. This town was chock-full of cowboys, real and pretend, and many of them were really hot. Kennedy might be new to Texas, a damn Yankee in fact, but she was really enthusiastic about fitting in. She used to like men, she used to like sex, and they both seemed available and possible here. The problem was, no cowboy really seemed to fit the bill for the sex part and her pickiness was leaving her in a veritable dry spell. She was picky for good reason, however. She sighed and looked around the huge room, wondering again what she was doing in a sex club.
Alberta and Madison had giggled and acted so excited about the surprise. The building had looked much like a warehouse from the outside, albeit with good security and an amazing fleet of expensive vehicles in the parking lot. Once they had been passed inside, Kennedy was overwhelmed by the sexuality of the place. There was a bar and dance floor that pulsated with a heavy rock beat. A few dozen people gyrated in sets of twos and threes and even fours. Some seemed to be wearing Halloween costumes made out of PVC or strips of cloth that barely covered their naughty bits. Harnesses abounded in stark contrast to beautifully tailored suits. Kennedy thought it was like kids playing naughty dress up. Her friends dragged her to a room down the hall swathed in red and black velvet hangings and showed her furniture and implements more suited to a medieval torture chamber. Madison whispered that there would be a scene enacted later on and she could hardly wait. Ally's eyes were bright with anticipation, too. Well, Kennedy could wait forever. She had figured out the sex club part and had moved past the fetish label to BDSM. Good grief, Ally and Madi had turned into perverts in the two years since they had moved here. And to think that she had followed them to the city because of their entreaties that she would love Austin, not to mention the job opportunities for someone with her background. Of course, it was a perfect opportunity for her to have a fresh start, too. Just not at a sex club.
She tagged along behind her friends, taking the guided tour, and learned that there were rooms for various sexual interests and fantasies available for members' use. Kennedy was in the club on a visitor's pass and wondered how she could make her escape without totally offending her friends. She idly noted the large numbers of cameras situated in crucial areas throughout the club. She supposed they were for security purposes and hoped no one was watching her halfhearted attempts to look interested and impressed by her surroundings.
From his position in the security booth, Graham observed the club scene and noticed the little woman standing slightly apart. He mentioned her to Patrick. At Patrick's request, the security guard in the booth zoomed the hall camera in on the brunette's right hand and confirmed the visitor's wristband.
"She looks bored, wouldn't you say?" suggested Patrick as he glanced sideways at Graham's face.
Graham shrugged. "I just noticed her wandering pretty much on her own and wondered if she had slipped in past security," he answered his friend. "We don't need another reporter infiltrating the club."
He watched Patrick's face harden. "Run the number," Patrick ordered the guard.
"Kennedy Johnson, sir." The man provided the information quickly. "Sponsored by Madison Starr."
Patrick relaxed. "Little Madi," he nearly purred, to Graham's surprise. "She mentioned a friend moving here from Connecticut. I'd forgotten I gave her permission to bring her friend."
"You still fixated on that redhead, buddy?" teased Graham.
Patrick shrugged. "There's something about her for sure. I'm not going to rush it."
Graham hid his surprise. His friend hooked up or played with subs. He didn't pursue one woman. "Well, let me know how things work out. If you need a third..."
Patrick's face hardened again, "That won't be necessary."
Holy shit, not necessary? Patrick never fucked a woman alone or in private. What the hell was that about? Whatever, he hoped Pat knew what he was doing. Women and long-term relationships were a deadly mix. He knew this from personal experience and was himself content to be one of the house Doms. He had his control needs met and the sex was rocking without the personal shit that messed things up. And Patrick, as the owner of Pleasure, had followed the same line of thought, at least until Madison Starr.
Graham turned his attention back to the woman visiting with Madison. Below average height, curvy, which often was an issue for women, being worried about their weight, whereas he loved curves. She had really thick, dark hair piled up on her head, so probably long enough to spill down her back. The camera gave the impression of regular features, not beautiful, but attractive, her mouth sporting a full bottom lip perfect for...crap, what was he doing? Screening for a sub? He didn't even know the color of her eyes or her skin. Well, she was white, but was she ivory, or porcelain, or maybe peaches and cream? Graham dragged his eyes away from her face. Kennedy Johnson. He didn't think she would be back to the club, judging by her demeanor. She looked...amused. Now that was annoying. Ms. Johnson could use a lesson in manners. What the hell? He needed to get a grip. She had no idea she was being scrutinized and was probably being polite and appropriate where it counted.
"Mr. Alexander!" The guard's bark broke his reverie. "There's a problem in the discipline room."
Graham stared at the screen. Two Doms were squaring off over what appeared to be an uncollared sub. Christ, where was the decorum? Clearly he needed to exert more control over screening memberships if this sort of thing could happen. He grabbed his single tail and wrapped it around the waist of his leather pants as he made his way out of security and went down to take care of the fracas.
The two Doms broke apart at the sound of the whip cracking over their heads. No actual punches had landed. It had been more of a shoving match, a marking of territory. They stared at Graham, indecision in both of their faces.
"Explain, gentlemen," he invited silkily.
The older of the two rolled his eyes. "Sorry, my man," he offered. "George and I planned to share this little one until she changed her mind."
George added, "She played us, Graham. And we fell for it."
Graham didn't question the authenticity of either statement. He knew both of these men. Knew they were auditioning subs and that they had often shared in the past, although Luke was the more dominant and he suspected George could and did switch. He turned his attention to the wide-eyed sub, who instantly knelt and avoided eye contact. It was Alice, up to her old tricks again. He couldn't believe two old hands like George and Luke had fallen for it.
"Alice," he said, using his dark Dom voice. "Explain."
Graham knew what she wanted but was damned if he was going to give it to her. Better to deny her as a more effective form of punishment. He waited. Alice whimpered and crouched lower.
Kennedy watched the drama unfold with the same intensity she would have accorded a high school drama. Part of her wanted to applaud their sincere efforts, and another part wanted to throw popcorn. Big boys and their toys. And that great-looking guy in the leather pants just took the cake. He had to know that the twit on the floor was full of shit, with all that fake cowering and submissive action, but he played the authoritarian type just like Kennedy's old high school principal. Somebody was going to get their comeuppance and probably publicly. Kennedy felt a spurt of condescension. She knew the real thing. Madi and Alberta were both spellbound, all agog, and breathing hard.
Kennedy felt laughter bubbling up and put her hand over her mouth, hoping she looked properly awed instead. The hot guy's eyes swept the room and naturally locked with hers. Crap, he knew she was hiding mirth and couldn't know it was nearly hysterical. Kennedy dropped her head and wheeled around, heading out, fast. She made her way down the hall to a restroom and just managed to get inside before the laughter spilled from her lips. She laughed until her stomach hurt, belly laughed for the first time in a very long time. She didn't need her shrink to explain to her that she was reacting to the play on violence and sexuality, but she also felt like some part of her inside, a frozen part, melted a little, because it was pretend, a game, and no one got hurt. That big man was a walking wet dream and was so in control. Holy shit, she needed to get herself under control and the hell out of Dodge. She dampened a paper towel and dabbed at her wet eyes, trying to get rid of the smeared mascara when the door flew open.
Mr. Hottie stood framed in the aperture. Looking really pissed. Kennedy dragged her eyes from his reflection and tried to focus on repairing her makeup.
"Ms. Johnson."
Kennedy jumped. He knew her name.
"Ms. Johnson," he repeated.
Kennedy's tongue came unglued.
"Do I know you?" she asked in her best personal assistant's voice, the one guaranteed to put lesser beings in their place. She had perfected that voice in defense of her former employer, a man who got bogged down in the details and clamoring of others unless she kept him focused. She had been a terrific PA and would be again.
"I'm Graham Alexander, one of the resident Doms of Pleasure," he announced.
Kennedy bit back another snort of laughter. Please, this was like a parallel dimension. Still, she was essentially a polite person, and she would do her best to get out of this without giving further offense. Because she somehow knew that she had offended this Graham Alexander, and that was unfortunate. He seemed broader than he was tall, although he still towered over her. His bare chest was muscled to perfection, every abdominal and pectoral muscle defined, his biceps large, his forearms corded, and his large hands looked very capable. Very strong-looking thighs, outlined as they were by the material of his pants, supported narrow hips. She wished she could see his butt, and avoided staring at the bulge in the front of his leathers. Realizing she was checking him out, she looked him straight in the eyes, which, incidentally, were an amazing shade of silvery gray framed by lashes any woman would kill for. His nose was a blade, his mouth sensuous but not overly full. He kept his blond hair tied back in the nape of his neck. He looked like a Viking warrior. He turned her on, and she marveled as yet another part inside of her, a part she thought might have died, that she explained away by calling herself picky, woke up with a start.
He was looking back at her, and the very focus of his gaze, as well as the emotion glittering in those gray eyes, took her breath. He knew she was looking and liked what she saw, that she was aroused. Well, whatever. He had to know he was gorgeous and not for the likes of her. At least she could feel turned on, for surely there were no rules against that and no consequences. She resigned herself to a dressing down. She would apologize for whatever she needed to and ask him to call her a cab. Madi and Alberta were on their own. Kennedy wouldn't judge her friends, but she was not interested in this kind of entertainment.
Belatedly, she acknowledged his introduction. "Nice to meet you. I'm sorry if my reaction was inappropriate. I'm new to this type of thing, so if you'll excuse me, perhaps I can catch a cab."
Graham surveyed her from head to toe. Kennedy stood mute under his scrutiny. Tit for tat, as it were. She knew what he was seeing. She was fine with who she was, having long ago accepted the extra fifteen pounds she carried. Positive body image was one thing she hadn't lost over a year ago for some reason. She dressed to accommodate it, tastefully and expensively, and she also knew that while she wasn't beautiful, she had good bones and nice eyes. Men liked her hazel eyes, or so they said, because they changed color all the time to reflect her moods. Her hair was a nice shade of dark chestnut brown and one her best features. She left it long in order to style it or simply tie it out of the way without any fuss. Kennedy projected confidence and found it to be the very best form of armor.
"I wondered if the club made you nervous?" he suggested.
Kennedy shook her head. She wasn't saying another word in an effort to avoid further insult. How could she tell him she thought it was like grown-ups playing dress up, trying to find sexual pleasure given jaded appetites? To each their own. It simply wasn't for her, although she somehow felt free, no small part because of him, she was sure.
"I expect an answer when I speak to you." Graham growled at her, using his bulk to intimidate.
Kennedy wasn't intimidated. Turned on, but not intimidated. This take-charge man might like to be in control and have his own way, but he wasn't cruel. She intuited that fact and didn't question it. She knew bad guys when she met them, even if her gut instinct hadn't saved her before. She had done all the right things. It just hadn't been enough. If she had met Graham Alexander somewhere else, she would be thinking seriously of trying to let him know she was really interested and available. If that made her slutty, who cared?
"I'm not nervous, simply amused," she answered. Shit, there was her lip again.
"Amused," he bit out. "Scornful? Contemptuous?"
"No," she answered. "I don't care what others do if they consent and no one gets hurt. I just find the props and the pretend amusing."
She watched Graham visibly tamp his temper down. But he had asked, and she had answered. He said, "No one getting hurt would be a matter of opinion and personal choice, Ms. Johnson. You came to Pleasure. You knew the rules."
"I didn't," Kennedy protested. "It was a surprise, or else I wouldn't have come."
"Not very forward thinking of you, Ms. Johnson. You'll find out what happens when rules are broken."
Graham reached for his phone and called Patrick. "I'm dealing with our visitor tonight," he advised. "Jordan will have to cover for me."
Patrick sounded incredulous. "She wants to do a scene with you?"
"No. This is about her lack of manners."
"Graham, this is unlike you, buddy. Think twice. You could be starting something you can't finish," warned Patrick.
Graham smiled darkly at Kennedy, who was looking pretty incredulous herself. "It'll get finished for one of us." He hung up on Patrick.
Graham had barked out orders quickly in order to follow this intriguing woman in case she left the building before he could at least get close to her, even once. Alice had been barred for two weeks from the club and the Doms barred for one. The scene was cancelled, much to everyone's chagrin, so they would police the three people involved as a reminder not to let it happen again. In addition, he had just given up the advantage. She would figure out he had checked on her and learned her name. He pressed onward.
"Cite those rules now, buster," Kennedy ordered.
Graham stared at her for a moment, stalling for time while he mentally compiled something that sounded credible. He couldn't believe her feistiness. He was used to women immediately recognizing his dominant status and accommodating him.
He prevaricated smoothly, "Intolerance is in direct infringement of the rules for visitors. Our members pay a large fee to belong to this club and should be able to expect total acceptance. No telling how many people saw you run out of that room choking with laughter. You probably ruined the evening for some of them."
It seemed that Kennedy could hardly speak. "Are you nuts?" she managed to choke out. "You were probably the only person who noticed because you seem, well, you seem to notice everything. How did you know my name by the way?"
Graham winced inwardly. She was quick, this lovely little woman. Smart, gorgeous, banging body, feisty, maybe late twenties. He hoped he read her correctly and that she would eventually relinquish control sexually, if only to give up some of her burden. He just knew she had been in charge all of her life without making that choice, and that she hadn't begun to explore her full sexuality. There was something else about her, too, but well defended. He would need time to figure it out.
"As you say, I notice everything, and when you were smirking during the tour, you stood out as a potential problem." He loosely wove the truth. "I was not the only person who noticed your intolerance, and I'm sure your friends are feeling badly, too."
From the look on her face, Graham surmised that Kennedy had forgotten about her friends. He watched as she gathered up her bag and moved toward the door, and he changed his stance to block her way.
"I decide when you leave and where you go, Ms. Johnson," he informed her.
It seemed Kennedy felt she had had enough. She shoved at him and tried to slip by. Graham spun her to face him and dropped his shoulder, pushing it into her belly. He straightened with her, wrapping his arm securely over her thighs, ignoring her shrieked threat. He stooped to pick up the purse she had dropped in her efforts, and she fell silent at his display of strength. He felt her abdominal muscles tighten and a shudder run through her. He hoped he was reading arousal. She then renewed her efforts, pounding on his back. Graham slapped her ass and she froze. It not only got her attention, it probably stung, and it may have reminded her that her dress was now up near her waist, exposing her panties.
"Put me down right fucking now." She nearly growled. "You might get away with this with your members, but I'm going to the police if you don't let me go."
Graham laughed, pulling the door open and making his way with her down the hall. "And you'd tell them you went to an infamous sex club, a BDSM club, where someone, what? What do you think is going to happen, Ms. Johnson? And if you don't clean up your mouth, it will add to your punishment."
Kennedy shut up and quit fighting.
Graham knew that Kennedy was saving her strength for any opening he might give her. Like that would happen. He hadn't thought this through, but she was his for the evening, maybe the night. He would play it by ear, unusual for him, but the challenge and this hot woman had him so hard he was actually uncomfortable. He had no doubt that she would be fucking him within the next hour or less and begging for it. He loved how she had entered into the spirit of things. He entered the code for the closest private room, flipped the occupied sign on, and kicked the door shut behind him. Without the code, no one could get in or out. He moved to the bed and dumped his furious package onto it. He crossed his arms and waited. Kennedy rolled and came off the bed on the opposite side to stand and face him. She said nothing, simply watched him after noting that he had tossed her purse onto a dresser as far away from the bed as was possible. Graham broke the silence first.
"Remove your clothing," he ordered.
"In your dreams," she answered.
"If you don't strip, I'll do it for you, and you'll have nothing but rags to wear home, Ms. Johnson. Your choice."
Kennedy gave a little negative shake of her head and simply waited.
Graham fought a sense of elation. This little woman was going to make him work harder than he had ever worked for any female. He prowled toward her, prepared to make his move to seduce her, assuming she would try to cross the bed and get past him to the door. She simply stood and watched him get closer, never taking her eyes off of his. Graham was a bit confused but took advantage of his size and reached out to pull her to him, grasping a shoulder and hooking his fingers in the neckline of her dress. She moved easily into him, and for a moment, he was pleased with her submission until she dropped her shoulder and slipped away.
Graham turned quickly and was able to catch his elusive prey. He managed to drag Kennedy flat against him, and she went limp. He wasn't fooled this time. Someone had taught her some self-defense moves, and he needed to be prepared. He swiveled onto the bench at the foot of the bed and placed Kennedy across his lap, trapping her legs between his own and holding her shoulders down with the weight of one hand. Aside from her fast breathing, she made no sound, although she had to know what the position meant. Surely she knew the game, for she wasn't protesting. Graham pulled the little skirt of her dress up to her waist and ran his hand over the curve of her buttocks, covered in lacy white briefs. She shivered under his touch but still said nothing. That wouldn't do. Graham loved the little sounds women made when he disciplined them. It aroused him and let him know how the discipline was being received.
"I'm going to paddle your fine ass, Ms. Johnson," he told her, "and you will count for me. If you don't count, I'll keep at it until you do. You will receive ten smacks for your intolerance and another five for your resistance."
Graham pulled the scrap of lace down to Kennedy's knees and noted the intake of her breath. Good, she was going to comply. He began to smack her buttocks, alternating, making sure he covered the whole surface of her bottom, but being careful to only pinken the skin. Kennedy's skin was ivory and probably quite sensitive. He waited for her to count, but she did not, even when he reached the tenth smack and rubbed her buttocks all over to spread the sting and the warmth. Stubborn wench. He knew her bottom was stinging and hot, yet she gave no indication aside from a stiffening of her body and a clenching of her buttocks. Graham decided to up the ante and slid his fingers between her buttocks and down to her pussy. Before he could check for her arousal she bit him, nearly piercing his leathers, grinding away at the side of his calf.
Graham shot to his feet, dislodging Kennedy's teeth in the process, and struggled to hold her at arm's length without releasing her. Her dress was still up around her waist, and he couldn't miss the sable hair covering her mound. Her breasts heaved with her fury, and he nearly backed away at the depth of color in her eyes. They shone nearly golden with rage and something else. Could that be terror? Surely not. He was certain she was attracted to him, and he felt her need to submit. He couldn't be that wrong considering his years of experience.
"You leave me no choice but to restrain you," he managed to advise her. "You will accept all of your punishment regardless of your resistance, and you have just added another ten."
"Fuck you, you asshole freak," Kennedy finally broke her silence. "How dare you hit me? I am going to castrate you."
Graham managed not to smile. She was just a little thing, but she looked like an avenging fury and she just wouldn't quit. He bet the spanking got her wet, and when he had tried to touch her, she hadn't wanted him to know. He loved that she had such spirit, and he was lost in his desire for her. He pulled her closer and bent slightly to lift her onto the bed where the restraints awaited on all four corners.
Kennedy literally saw red. She had thought she would rather take her chances, and maybe have the proof that someone had molested her. Providing the police with ruined clothes would back up her report of an assault. Kennedy turned her thoughts away from the circus that would ensue when she reported him, but she would do it. Maybe Mr. Hottie wasn't as smart as he looked. And he wasn't crazy either, just determined and controlled. Her life, at least, wasn't at risk. She was then overwhelmed by too many conflicting emotions. The terror she buried deep was creeping out of its hole. She had been carried on his shoulder, told to strip, spanked until her bottom hurt, and now he was going to spank her some more. The perverted behavior had infected her. Her nipples were hard behind her molded bra and therefore not yet obvious to him, but she was hot and wet between her legs despite the warning messages her brain was sending. Her body liked the spanking. How could that be possible? If she thought she could just fuck this stud, then she would go all obedient on him, but she worried he would want and take far more than that. Far more than she was willing to give. She didn't know how she was going to stop him, but she had to try and forget the fact that her traitorous pussy was aching for him to fill it. She really hadn't minded the spanking, but if he restrained her, she would be helpless, and she knew she would regress and lose it. She was too ashamed to be part of that horror show, and he wasn't going to listen to her explain, nor did she want to embarrass herself. She took a deep breath and counted on her thick hair to protect the top of her head.
Kennedy slammed her head up and into Graham's chin with all the force she could muster, and he sagged to the floor, knocked nearly unconscious, his arms falling away from Kennedy. Kennedy felt pretty woozy herself but was able to hitch her underwear up and stagger to the door, only to find that it required a code to exit. Pounding on the door confirmed the thickness of the panels. No one would hear her. She was so in trouble now. Memories overwhelmed her aching head, and she fought despair, unable to think clearly and differentiate. She had one last weapon and guessed she would go down fighting. If Graham Alexander diddled her, he would pay big time for the privilege, and she would find a way to fix him later if she could. Kennedy slipped her shoes off and held a stiletto in each hand. Anything not to fall back into being that victim she once had been.
Graham pulled his torso up onto the bed and cradled his jaw. Christ Almighty, what had he gotten himself into? Submissive women loved having their control taken away so that they could enjoy all aspects of their sexuality without shame. Could he have really misjudged Kennedy Johnson that badly? And how nuts was the woman, anyhow? If some other creep really wanted to hurt her, rape her, even kill her, she could have sealed her fate with her physical outburst. She had fought to the best of her ability, but she was still locked in a room with him, and he would soon be recovered enough to deal with her if he was that kind of man. Except then he looked up and saw her circling with the business ends of her shoes in either hand. Graham knew she was going to clobber him with those heels, maybe put an eye out, and he nearly laughed at the fact that he had been brought to his knees by a little woman.
"Uncle," he croaked past a split lip.
Kennedy froze. "What?" she asked.
"I give, you win," Graham answered her. "Zero, seven, six, one."
"Excuse me?"
"That's the code for the door." Graham slumped back on the bed and got one leg up. He hoped she wouldn't hurt him too much before she left.
Kennedy rushed the door and entered the code, breathing a sigh of relief when the handle turned. She toed on her shoes and turned to grab her purse when she looked back at Graham. His lip was bleeding, and already she could see a knot forming on his chin. He looked a weird color to her and seemed unconscious. Her head hurt a lot, so maybe she had broken his jaw. Leaving the door wide open and setting her purse down for a quick exit, Kennedy went into the adjoining bathroom and soaked a washcloth in cold water and grabbed a towel. This might be a really stupid move, but she wasn't afraid anymore. She hesitantly made her way over to Graham and carefully placed the cold cloth on his face, jumping back when he twitched. His eyes opened a fraction, and he studied her for a moment and then drifted off again. Kennedy mopped up the blood and then went back for another cold cloth. She fashioned a compress as best she could and knelt to tug his boots off, managing to lift his other leg onto the bed. She then propped a pillow behind his shoulder to keep his head turned sideways and pulled the coverlet loose to drift the one half of it over him. He was breathing, she had provided first aid, and he was conquered. Nothing left to do here. Kennedy left the room and found her way to the front door without a challenge. She had to walk nearly a block before she could flag a cab and resolutely refused to think about the evening. Madison and Alberta would soon learn that their new entertainment was not for her, and she absolutely wouldn't examine her body's response to that incredible but perverted man. At least she hadn't degenerated into a screaming idiot.
Chapter Two
Graham scrunched his eyes against the pervasive overhead light.
"Turn the fucking thing off," he groaned.
"What the fuck happened to you?" asked a familiar voice.
"Kennedy Johnson," he answered, without thinking.
Patrick went absolutely motionless and silent, and then he dissolved into laughter. Loud, head-jarring, cruel laughter.
"Fuck off," Graham advised, struggling to a sitting position. He felt like he had gone ten rounds with a far bigger opponent than his little woman. Well, maybe not his. Yet. But then he had been trying not to hurt her, just restrain her and keep her from killing him. That had to count toward explaining why he was the one with the sore jaw and split lip. Not to mention the throbbing in his head and the probable bruises on his legs. At least his balls were intact.
"C'mon for breakfast and tell me all about it," Patrick offered. "I thought you'd taken her home until the cleaning staff said the room was still occupied. By you. Alone."
Graham staggered to the bathroom and used the facilities then threw cold water on his face and chest. He really didn't want to see what he looked like but cautiously peered into the mirror. Not too bad. Kennedy had kept the swelling down by applying those cold cloths. What the hell was her skull made of anyhow? He didn't think he had a glass jaw, but she nearly had him down for the count. And the sight of her with those deadly stilettos. Graham shuddered, and his cock filled. Kennedy had no idea what she had unleashed.
Patrick extricated the whole sorry tale over a huge, cholesterol-filled breakfast after swearing not to breathe a word to another soul. He obviously smothered more laughter, probably because Graham was having trouble chewing the bacon.
"I thought she was going to kill me," Graham confided.
Patrick raised his eyebrows. "And I take it you aren't finished with her?"
Graham smiled around his split lip. "Not hardly. No playing fair the next time."
Patrick looked hard at him. "You aren't going to hurt her," he stated flatly.
Graham reared back as if he'd been struck. "Of course not! But I'm wise to her moves now, and she still has another fifteen coming. I think she liked her spanking, Pat, and next time I'll find out for sure."
Patrick smiled and devoted himself to finishing his meal. Between bites, he said, "I hooked up with Madison last night. She told me a little about Kennedy, and maybe you should talk to her first. I don't think she'll tell all Kennedy's secrets, but she cares about her friend and will want only the best for her."
Graham shrugged. "I need to get her phone number and address, anyhow. And I'm a great believer in knowing my enemy." He paused. "Want to tell me what's up with you and Madison?"
"I can't explain it myself, Gray," Patrick answered quietly. "She's different somehow, and I want to date her, God help me."
"Whatever I can do, buddy, to help. If you need time off or whatever," Graham offered. Patrick? Dating? Mr. I'll train 'em and fuck 'em and pass them on. That Patrick?
The two sat quietly, lost in their thoughts until the server came to clear the table.
Kennedy shifted her purse to the arm that held the sack with the wine bottle in order to free the hand holding the keys to her door. She held the keys between her knuckles, making them into a pretty fair weapon. Old habits. She had interviewed twice today for PA positions, and both looked promising. One was with an oil company director and the other for a CEO of a popular fashion outlet. Kennedy had liked both men and would find it hard to choose between the two if the jobs were offered to her. She had a week to wait and three more interviews lined up between then and now, so she was confident that she would once again be gainfully employed. She wasn't used to quiet, empty days, particularly when her recent time with Madison and Alberta was spent ignoring a really big elephant in the room or working hard at not thinking about that big elephant. But for now, all she could think about was getting into some comfortable clothes and pouring a big glass of wine.
The biggest part of the elephant stood outside her apartment door. Actually, he leaned against the doorjamb, his arms folded across his chest, totally relaxed. Kennedy began to back up slowly. Graham wore tailored pants and a short sleeve button-down shirt, his feet shod in nice leather slip-ons, but he still reminded her of a dangerous animal, one she had already poked with a stick.
"Ms. Johnson," he rumbled. "I wonder if I might have a word with you?"
Kennedy continued to back away. "Okay," she said carefully. "We can talk on the sidewalk." She wondered if she could club him with the bottle of wine if he rushed her.
Graham chuckled. "I assure you, Ms. Johnson, you have nothing to fear from me. We are not at the club, and in any event, you are more than capable of taking care of yourself."
Kennedy shook her head. "Uh-uh. Sorry. I don't know how you found out where I live..." She stopped. How could they do this to her? They were supposed to be her friends!
"Go away, Mr. Alexander. Go. Or I'll call the police and report a stalker."
She watched as Graham visibly turned on the charm, working hard at being convincing and trying to look as nonthreatening as possible. "Could I take you to dinner, then?"
Kennedy wheeled and took off for the main door of the building. Graham uncoiled his broad frame and beat her to it. He must have accepted that she was afraid of him, for he backed up, holding up both hands in a gesture of surrender.
"Ms. Johnson," he spoke quietly, "I owe you an apology and would really like to just talk with you."
Kennedy pushed through the outside door to mingle with the pedestrians on the opposite side of the street.
Chapter Three
Kennedy huddled over a hot chocolate in the little diner she had stumbled into after making a fool of herself. Graham had scared her for sure, and she had slipped back into a time where running and hiding might have saved her if only she had had the option. But this time she was running from herself, too, from that strange attraction. She couldn't even use humor or sarcasm to coax her brain into minimizing it. She had read everything she could download on BDSM that night after she got home and thought she understood him. But she knew that she would never get the drop on that man again, and so he wasn't safe to be around. The problem was, she didn't want to be safe. She didn't want to get hurt, either, although she really didn't think Graham would hurt her. Erotic pain was different than other pain, apparently, and that over-the-knee spanking had underscored that fact. But she preferred not to think about pain. No, Graham Alexander wouldn't hurt her, except to take everything, as a Dom, that she had to give and leave her empty and alone. That was what truly scared the shit out of her. She couldn't give anyone, let alone a man, that kind of power. It was too bad the future kind of stretched out there, looking pretty empty. Sighing, she called Madison from her cell. They had a brief, if spirited, exchange that ended with Madi apologizing and offering her the use of her extra bedroom. Kennedy refused the offer and took heart that Madi was done with her meddling.
Graham was nowhere to be seen when she went back to her apartment. After locking up, she changed her clothes and found her biggest wineglass. She curled up in the tub chair and sipped, carefully keeping her mind empty, until hunger pangs reminded her that lunch had been a very long time ago. Kennedy fixed herself a peanut butter sandwich, ignoring the caloric intake, and chewed it down while she ran a bath. Wine, peanut butter, a hot bath, all comfort for her. She would read a mystery while she soaked and then climb into bed, swathed in her coziest pajamas, and read some more until she fell asleep. The job hunt would fill her time until she conquered her feelings and stray thoughts.
Madison called the next morning, waking Kennedy from a sleep filled with strange and distracting dreams. She ignored the familiarity of the man filling the starring role.
"Morning, hon!" Madi's happy voice grated in her ears. "Do you have time for breakfast today?"
"What time is it, Madi?" Kennedy croaked.
"Maybe seven or so. I don't know. I'm hungry and want to have breakfast with you."
"When?"
"I'll pick you up in half an hour, and we'll swing by to grab Alberta."
Kennedy stifled a groan. Madi was trying to make up for giving that man her address. Now it was up to her to make nice back.
"Okay, but I'm not dressing up," she groused.
"Whatever, but it's a nice place," Madi trilled happily before she hung up.
Well, shit. Kennedy rolled off the bed and padded over to her closet. She yanked a sundress off its hanger and found a shrug. The weather was fine, the air-conditioning lethal. It was a wonder people weren't dropping like flies with pneumonia. Probably they were used to it, but she couldn't afford to get sick. Kennedy quickly washed up and then braided her hair, leaving a few tendrils loose to soften the look, and applied a little makeup. The sundress fit perfectly, displaying her breasts in an understated way, the fabric slipping over her and softening her curves, falling to just above the knee. Dressy sandals with a little heel and a large straw bag completed the look. At least for a summer in Connecticut. Well, it was what she had in her wardrobe, and it was what she would wear in Texas, confident it made the best of her shape and looks.
Madi was waiting outside in her little sports car, so Kennedy slipped in beside her and they were on their way. Madi looked like the runway model she was when the mood struck her, dressed in a beautiful linen dress with matching pumps and understated gold jewelry. The morning air felt delicious after her restless night and Kennedy closed her eyes to better enjoy it.
"Whatcha thinking about?" asked Madi.
"Just enjoying the weather, Madi," she replied. "Aren't we picking up Alberta?"
"She wouldn't get out of bed," huffed Madi. "She met some guy at the club the other night, and that's why we hardly ever see her."
Kennedy wondered if the guy might be Graham Alexander, then quickly pushed the thought away. "I hope he's a nice person, Madi. I know that most of the men who go to that club are, well..."
Madi's laughter cut her off. "They're mostly Doms, Kennedy. It's okay to say it. But I think Alberta is involved with a switch, you know, somebody who likes to dominate and be dominated. You know how Alberta gets. He might be perfect for her."
Kennedy chewed on that information for a while. She loved her friends but was beginning to think she had never really known them. How could that be? They had been friends since grade school, inseparable. Sure, Alberta was the alpha bitch, and Madi the follower, mostly always acquiescent. Kennedy did what she wanted to do. Sometimes she would go along with Alberta, but other times she would walk away. Madi hated that when it happened, hated controversy. But then Alberta would give in, and Kennedy would rule for a while. Kennedy thought she had always been an independent type. She had to be, in her family. If one didn't take care of oneself, then no one else stepped up to the plate. Her parents probably loved her, their only "accident," but had been neglectful, allowing her to scramble up on her own, learning right from wrong from some pretty special neighbors and teachers, who also provided crucial supervision and discipline. Her parents had both died in a car accident just before she graduated college. All in all, she hadn't turned out too badly and life had been going pretty well until just over a year and half ago. Until her boss's nephew.
Kennedy breathed and grounded herself just like the therapist had coached her to do, and the feeling of being closed in passed. A bit of self-talk and she was good to go. Damn that Graham Alexander for stripping her of her control and infusing it with arousal. It all wove together, and how was she ever going to cope if he didn't keep his distance? Because she knew he hadn't given up. She didn't know how she knew that, but she did, just as she had known the sun was going to rise this morning. She would resist of course, but she didn't appreciate the work ahead of her to dissuade him.
Madi pulled up to a restaurant that featured valet parking. This was going to cost. Madi came from money and only modeled when she liked the product, so for sure, Madi was picking up this tab. Kennedy had money in the bank on top of her savings. It had been termed severance pay, but it was really conscience money. It spent the same though. However, she needed enough to live on until she got another job, and eating out all the time, especially in this kind of place, wasn't part of her life plan at the moment. They climbed out of the car, and the valet whisked it off. Kennedy followed Madi inside, blinking at the sudden transition from bright sunlight to muted lighting.
"Patrick!" Madi called, rushing across the room past the hostess to throw her arms around a tall, dark-haired man who cuddled her close and dropped a kiss on her hair.
Kennedy followed more leisurely. She should have known that Madi would have a man in every restaurant. She smiled indulgently, mirroring the look on the guy's face as he helped Madi into a chair. He was clearly nuts about her friend, so he was okay in her book. The alarm bell rang in her head as his name registered. Patrick. Not a really common name these days. Where had she heard that name recently?
Kennedy stopped by the table and fixed a look on her friend. Enough was enough. If Graham Alexander popped out of the woodwork, she was going to stab him with one of those lovely, silver bread knives lying on the table and then slap her friend silly.
Madi looked up and her, and her face sobered.
"Kennedy?" she said. "This is Patrick Morrison. He..."
Kennedy broke in, "I know who Mr. Morrison is, or at least where he works, Madi. Don't get up. I'll get a cab."
"Ms. Johnson." Patrick's deep voice froze her in her tracks. He clearly didn't like her treatment of Madi, and while she could admire him for his loyalty, what about Madi's loyalty to her?
She stared at him and waited him out.
"Madison was certain you would not come if you knew I would be here, Ms. Johnson," Patrick stated, giving her a dark stare. "However, I would be obliged if you would have breakfast with us and hear me out. Madison cares about you and would not do this if she believed it wasn't in your best interest."
"Quite frankly, Mr. Morrison, I'm not certain Madi, or Alberta for that matter, know what is in my best interest anymore. I don't think I know them anymore. I have tried to make it clear to Mr. Alexander that his attentions are not welcome, and yet he persists. It is upsetting, and I won't put up with it." Kennedy turned to leave, avoiding the tears now standing in Madi's eyes.
"Actually, Ms. Johnson," he advised, "this has nothing to do with Graham, although you should know he is my best friend and I will of course defend him unless he acts in a way that is indefensible. The purpose of this breakfast is twofold. Madison insisted that I meet you because we are in a relationship, and she wanted me to meet her best friend. You are hurting her with your stubborn attitude. Secondly, I understand you are in need of a job, and I am in the market for a personal assistant."
Kennedy tried not to gape like a fish. She closed her mouth with a snap and searched for words. "I apologize to you both. My mistake. Congratulations, Madi. And you, Mr. Morrison, I hope you realize what a wonderful woman you are in a relationship with."
The "and you'd better not fuck her over" didn't have to be added. It hung there in the silence like the unspoken threat that it was.
"Call me Patrick please, Kennedy. I do so appreciate loyalty. Will you join us so we can discuss the PA position over breakfast." It wasn't a request, and Kennedy heard the order in his tone and balked.
"Sorry, Mr. Morrison. It's likely I already have a job judging from the way my last two interviews went, and I quite frankly have no interest in being a PA for someone who works in, or for, the kind of club you are connected to. Madi, I'm sorry, but I am so done with surprises."
Madi sighed as she watched her best friend leave the restaurant. Patrick pulled her close and kissed the top of her head.
"Kennedy has been through a lot, Patrick," she reminded him. "And Alberta and I have changed over this past while, or at least come into ourselves. Kennedy doesn't understand that yet. I shouldn't have pushed her so hard."
"I convinced you that Graham would likely be the perfect Dom for your friend, Madison," Patrick reassured her. "You are correct in recognizing a woman who desperately needs to let someone take over for her, even if it is just in the bedroom. Kennedy quite obviously carries too heavy a burden. But we have tried our best. It's now up to Graham."
Madison shook her head. "Graham will not control her, Patrick. Truly he won't. She's different than I am. Iwant you to take charge. I need you to. I trust you one hundred percent with my whole self. Kennedy doesn't trust anyone now, not even me, and because of what I just did, she's alone."
The tears slipped out of her eyes and flowed over her cheeks, unchecked. Patrick held her and rocked her gently.
Kennedy walked for miles and miles in the general direction of her apartment. She found herself on residential streets lined with mature trees and wondered at the luck of the people, the families who lived there. The longing she felt for such a life was something she rarely allowed herself to consider, but it was there, nevertheless. It was a lot to ask for, a husband, a house like one of these in a similar neighborhood, a child, maybe even a pet. A vision of Graham Alexander, dressed in those tight leather pants, his chest bare, rose up in her head, and she choked back hysterical laughter. Time to find a cab.
By the time she got home, Kennedy was regretting her long walk. Her feet were sore and blistered and not a little swollen, and she was sunburned. She was preoccupied with her discomfort and didn't notice who opened the door of her building to allow her to precede him. But she smelled him, a warm, manly smell mixed with a hint of citrus. Enough. No more running.
"Why are you here?" she demanded.
Graham stared down at her, his gray eyes warm somehow, a tiny frown marring his brow.
"Patrick called and said he had offended you. I've been waiting for hours for you."
"I hardly need to explain where I was..." Kennedy stopped, about to do just that. What was it with this man? She had to get away from him.
She turned away and tried not to obviously limp. Instantly he was at her side, firmly removing the keys from her hand, moving ahead to open her apartment door. Kennedy wanted to cry. She was sore and tired and couldn't do this anymore. She ducked her head.
"Do you want me to carry you?" Graham asked.
Kennedy didn't trust her voice so shook her head and made her way into her apartment. She sank down on the nearest surface, which just happened to be the couch, and reached to unfasten her sandals. Graham was already kneeling beside her and gently pushed her hands away. He eased the offending footwear off and tensed at her hiss of pain, which was coupled with relief.
Fuck, that little noise she made sent all the blood to his cock. It was the same little hitch of breath he had heard when he spanked her. He was some kind of deviant for sure. Kennedy's feet were clearly hurting, and here he was wondering if he could get a look up the skirt of the cute little dress she was wearing. He looked at her face instead and saw that she had leaned her head back on the couch, her eyes closed. She had gotten a whole lot of sun, and while some kind of sweater thing had protected her shoulders, her forearms, neck, and face were really pink. So were her calves and the tops of her feet. Her silky, ivory skin was going to peel if he didn't help her out. At least that was what he told himself.
After his initial plan of charm and seduction had backfired and he had scared his little woman, he thought he might have sabotaged his hope of connecting with her. Except it felt like he had no choice. If that made him a stalker, well, tell that to his cock, and his gut, too. Mostly his gut and maybe another more important organ just north of his gut. Shit. He heard about lightning striking other men and had felt sorry for them. Now there could be a pity party for him. Time to try Plan B.
Graham located the bathroom and began to fill the tub. He found some white vinegar in the door of the fridge and soaked a washcloth in it. He and his little woman were going to have to invest in washcloths the way they were using them for injuries. He went back to find Kennedy still in the position he had left her and marveled that she was asleep.
"Honey," he said by her ear, "Kennedy, wake up."
Kennedy sat up with a start and nearly cracked him in the face with her forehead. Good God, he was going to need disability insurance around her.
Kennedy looked at him through narrowed eyes. "Why are you still here? Go away."
"I'm going to help you with that sunburn, honey, and fix up your feet," he advised her.
"I'm good. I can take care of myself. Thanks," she added as an afterthought.
Graham ignored her and pressed the cloth on her forearm. Kennedy went rigid at the initial touch, and then, as the discomfort of the burn obviously diminished, she laid her head back again and allowed him to apply the cloth to her arms and her face. She stiffened again when he touched her neck but gradually relaxed. Graham carefully folded her dress up to a modest length before he treated her legs, trying to show respect, and was rewarded when Kennedy sighed her appreciation. Her bonelessness quickly dissipated when he then swung her up into his arms and walked with her to the bathroom.
"Put me down," she ordered through clenched teeth.
"Relax, honey," he assured her. "I've run a cool bath for you to soak in for a bit, and then I'll work on your feet."
"You are not going to be in the bathroom with me, Graham Alexander," Kennedy stated.
Graham controlled himself.
"Get into the tub, Kennedy. I'll wait in the other room. Drink some water."
Kennedy locked the bathroom door and stripped off, tossing her clothes into the hamper. The cool bath restored her equilibrium and body temperature, and the bottle of water rehydrated her. Now if only she could get out and find him gone. She winced when she put her weight on her feet, but they weren't as swollen and the blisters were minimal. She would need a bunch of foundation tomorrow to calm her pink skin tone down, but the vinegar seemed to really help. She was grateful to Graham but resentful, too, that she had needed his assistance. Well, she hadn't really needed it. If she had come home and not found him there, she would have taken care of herself like she always did. It had felt nice to have someone coddle her, though. Resolutely, she pushed away those thoughts and dried herself off. Shit, her robe was in the bedroom, and these towels just barely covered her, sarong style. Well, she couldn't stay in here all day, so she carefully opened the door and slipped through it to hurry to the bedroom and find her robe. Graham scooped her up the instant she exited the bathroom, and she couldn't contain a little scream.
"It's okay, honey," he crooned, "I just don't want you walking on those feet for a few hours. They'll heal faster if you don't."
Kennedy tried to think how important it was for her to have healthy feet at her job interview tomorrow and not about how good it felt to be held against his hard chest, his warmth so reassuring...
"I'd like my robe." She broke the moment.
"The towel works fine, honey," Graham cajoled.
The tops of her breasts were on full display, round and creamy to his gaze, and her silky thighs pressed against his arm. He wanted to lay her down on that queen-size bed of hers and ease the towel apart. He would explore every inch of her and taste her pussy. Somehow he dragged his mind back to the matter at hand and set Kennedy down on the couch, rather than spook her by taking her into the bedroom. He had the aloe lotion all ready on the coffee table and sat beside it, taking both of Kennedy's feet onto his lap, carefully avoiding the evidence of his arousal. His shirt hung outside his jeans, but provided a pretty flimsy barrier to her gaze.
Kennedy held herself rigid and had her bottom lip between her teeth. Her eyes were fixed on him and weren't the gold of rage this time, but more a warm, golden, sandy color. Graham didn't know for sure what that color meant, but he thought it might be a cross between apprehension and arousal. At least she wasn't terrified. Her eyes went green when she was scared. Graham badly wanted to kiss her and lick that pouty bottom lip of hers before he balanced the head of his cock on it. His woman was all but naked, and he was so close. It should have felt strange because he wasn't in leathers, there was no contract, he wasn't training her, and yet, it felt like coming home, tending to Kennedy, taking care of her. He took care of his subs, too, but this was different. Kennedy would have to embrace some of his lifestyle because it was a big part of him, but first things first.
Graham slicked his hands with lotion and began to massage Kennedy's feet, paying attention to her arches, smoothing the areas where the straps of her sandals had cut in. The blisters would have to wait until they filled. He carefully worked his way up over her ankles and then massaged her calves. Kennedy had long since relaxed and allowed herself a few moans of pleasure, and Graham took heart. He gently separated her knees as he slid his hands up and down the inside of her calves. He could smell the scent of clean, warm woman and a hint of arousal. It was decision time, and he hoped he made the correct one.
"You owe me fifteen, Kennedy," he said into the silence.
Kennedy tensed. He waited.
"Can't you just fuck me?" she asked, keeping her eyes closed.
"Kennedy."
She reluctantly opened her eyes and met his.
"I intend to fuck you and more, honey, but you owe me fifteen. It's who I am, sweetheart."
She nodded.
"Say it."
"All right. I'll take the fifteen," she bit out. "But I'm not counting."
Kennedy thought hard and fast. She wanted to fuck this man. She wanted to fuck him more than she had ever wanted to fuck anyone in her entire sexual life. His magic hands and his proximity had made her pussy weep, and she didn't care if he knew. It seemed like fate. Everyone was pushing them together, and he was not going to go away. Although maybe he would if they did the deed. She couldn't go there. Better to take this opportunity.
Graham lifted her right off the couch in another amazing display of strength and carried her to a dining room chair that had been pulled away from the table. Kennedy gritted her teeth at his foresight. The arrogant bastard. He thought he knew her. He would find out that maybe he didn't know her as well as he thought.
Graham left her the towel, maybe recognizing that she had already made a concession. He turned her over his lap and trapped her legs with his own, then pulled the towel up to bare her buttocks to his gaze.
"You have such a beautiful curve to your ass, Kennedy," he told her, "all plump and silky. I look at it for hours. There's no need to count this time, little one, but if I miscount, it will be on your head."
Graham began to smack her buttocks, alternating as before, but adding a little more heft to his swing. By the count of ten, Kennedy was squirming against him and knew that he would know her spanking was arousing her further, that she had moved past the sting to the pleasure.
"Hold still, or I'll add another five," he ordered.
"I can't," she gasped.
"You can. Show some self-control."
Kennedy froze at his acerbic comment and thought about biting him again. The leathers had precluded her from sinking her teeth in, but she thought jeans wouldn't prove to be such a barrier.
"And if you bite me again, Kennedy"---Graham stole her thoughts---"I will restrain you and lick you until you beg me to let you come. But I won't."
That little bit of advice had successfully settled her, and she wasn't on the edge in the same way. The final five smacks served to push her right up there again, especially when Graham gently rubbed her cheeks and the warmth permeated right down to her pussy. This time, when he slid his fingers down to explore her labia, Kennedy allowed it. When he pushed a finger up inside of her to lubricate it and then circle her clit, Kennedy whimpered despite herself. She missed this. She missed orgasms. Graham penetrated her with two fingers and unerringly found her high spot, feathering a fingernail over it, and she clenched, hard. When his thumb pressed her clit, Kennedy let herself go over and inhaled the moment.
"You have no self-control, honey," Graham murmured as he pulled her up onto his lap, the towel slipping to the floor. "I'll teach you how to wait, and then your orgasms will be truly memorable."
"That one was pretty fine, buddy," Kennedy offered. "I haven't..."
"What, honey? Was that the first one in a long time?"
Kennedy swallowed but saw nothing but patience and kindness in his gray eyes.
"Yes."
"How long?"
"Over a year, maybe eighteen months, but who's counting." She tried to laugh.
Graham cuddled her close. "It's okay, honey. I've got you."
Kennedy suddenly began to cry, impervious to her nakedness and him being totally clothed. She cried hard, for everything, for her sore feet, her sunburn, her tattered soul, and all of her losses. She cried until the tears dried up, and she hiccupped her breaths. Graham's shirt was soaked with her tears, and still he held her and rocked her.
When she settled, he carried her to the bathroom and wet yet another washcloth, gently cleaning her swollen face, patting her puffy eyes. He pressed a kiss on her adorably red nose and then took her lips despite himself. She opened for him like a flower, and he kissed her until neither of them could breathe. Graham took her to the bedroom and gently laid her on the mattress, having already pulled the covers to the foot of the bed.
"I want to inspect my woman, Kennedy," he gritted out. He was impossibly hard now and had to move forward before he burst.
Kennedy lay, acquiescent, and solemnly watched him strip off his shirt and his jeans. His boxers barely contained his erection, and Graham saw her shiver when she looked at him there.
"It's okay, honey." He read her perfectly. "I won't hurt you, I swear."
When she relaxed, he added cheerfully. "Unless you ask me to or you deserve another spanking, that is."
His voice deepened. "Spread your legs, Kennedy, and put your feet flat on the mattress. Now."
Kennedy did as he asked, and his arousal spiked as he looked at her spread pussy. Graham moved between her legs and opened her labia further, stroking the lips and then pushing two fingers into her opening. He teased her clit, sensitive from her previous orgasm, from its protective hood and pinched it to attention.
"Beautiful," he breathed. "So pink, so juicy."
Graham nosedived between her legs and made a meal of her pussy. His pillow talk had really turned her on if the wetness of her was anything to go by. He lanced his tongue everywhere, his teeth nipping and teasing as his hands slid beneath her buttocks and held her up to him for better access. When he sucked her clit hard, he felt her nearing another orgasm and how she struggled to contain it. Graham pulled away and slithered up her body, the material of his boxers rasping on her tender flesh.
"Good girl, Kennedy," he praised, wiping his face of her juices. "You'll get there again soon, and the wait will be worth it."
Graham began to pay homage to her breasts. He marveled at how soft and round and warm Kennedy's breasts were. He was a pussy man, although fucking ass also ranked right up there, but these babies were made for sucking. She tasted wonderful, almost as good as her sweet pussy had tasted, and her moans convinced him that he needed to really worship her breasts. He would clamp her nipples another time and maybe connect them to a clit clip, but he would need to ease her into things. She had taken her spanking well, and followed his orders to display, so it might not be as difficult as he thought. Graham heard Kennedy making sounds that indicated she might again be chasing an orgasm. Just from breast stimulation. Holy shit, he had hit the mother lode with this woman. His woman. Graham rolled away to pull his boxers off and slide on a condom. He knew she was wet, but she was small and tight and he was so close to going off. He would get up inside her somehow and hope to maintain his control. Patrick would rib him forever if he knew how she made him struggle. Oh right, Patrick had lost his own control over a certain redhead.
Graham inched his way up into Kennedy, her slick pussy walls giving way as he inserted himself then clasping him sweetly. He would not hurt her, but it took all his control to get inside without doing so.
"I can't wait, sweetheart," he managed to say. "Hang on."
Kennedy wrapped herself around him as he then pounded into her, reveling in the sex, the heat, and the power. His cock battered her cervix and pressured her G-spot as he stretched her. He wanted her to come again with him inside her, and he ground his pelvis against hers. Graham stilled above her and held himself hard, reaching down to pinch her clit as he did so. Kennedy came with intensity, and Graham ejaculated, filling the condom, the residual clenching of her vagina milking him until his balls felt sucked dry. He slumped over her and opened his eyes to find her looking at him, her eyes now a golden brown. He kissed her gently and rolled off to the side, pulling her with him. She fell asleep in his arms, him still inside of her, and Graham couldn't wait for morning, well, afternoon, to come. He hated to waste time sleeping when he could be awake with his woman.
Chapter Four
Kennedy woke in a room filled with late-afternoon sunlight. Graham slept on, holding her closely to his chest, although his penis had slipped from her. She tried not to analyze what had taken place since she let him into her apartment because it now felt like she had invited a vampire inside. He could never be kept out now and would bring her incredible pleasure while keeping her under this thrall. What if he sucked her dry? She wondered how she would find the strength to run, and to where. The experience had been incredible, and he was still with her. Sooner or later, he would push her with that lifestyle of his and the BDSM would trigger her PTSD, and she couldn't live through that.
She watched him sleep. He looked almost harmless in repose, despite his enormous chest and biceps. With face relaxed, the dominant man at rest, Kennedy could almost convince herself that it might be different, but she knew better. How to ease him away from her and give her enough time to move on with her life, sans Graham? He hadn't noticed or felt her scars yet, or if he had, their passion hadn't given him time to remark on them. The doctor had assured her that the marks were nearly invisible, but she felt them. She knew they were there. And Graham would find them and ask her about them. He wouldn't let her prevaricate, and that would push her over the edge. She would freak out on him.
Kennedy closed her eyes against sudden tears. She had wept out so much ugly pain in his arms. How could he do that to her, break her down that way? But according to her readings, that was what some Doms did best. Therapy, according to Graham. Too big a risk, too much to lose, despite her feelings for him. He was possessive of her, but that, too, was a Dom thing. She wanted a white picket fence life. She deserved it, according to her therapist, but wanting and needing and getting were rarely on the same page, and she was in bed with a fucking Dom. She carefully extricated herself from Graham's hold, wondering that he could still sleep, and then realized he had probably worked all night at the club. Fucking her was probably the second or third event for him in a twenty-four-hour period. That hurt. She would take the unexpected time alone to build some inner walls to defend herself.
After a quick shower, Kennedy put on staid white underwear and a matching cotton bra then drew on a pair of sweatpants and a loose T-shirt. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, the braid having been undone by Graham at some point earlier. She brushed her teeth vigorously but eschewed makeup and hoped she looked like a serious woman who was not interested in further sexual activity. She made her way into the kitchen and began to put the ingredients together for biscuits once she had dumped a container of frozen stew into the microwave to thaw. She'd heat the stew in the oven and bake the biscuits alongside. She couldn't think further than that and sat staring into space, waiting for the microwave to stop. Depression fell over her like a wet, cloying blanket as the memories crept into her subconscious.
She had loved her job in Connecticut. She was hired right after graduating from college. Alex Demars had been a wonderful boss, a kind and caring man, ill-suited to head up a business in such a cutthroat industry, but he hadn't asked for it. He stepped up to fill his brother's role after the man and his wife had been killed in a car accident. Alex knew he wasn't the CEO his brother had been, but for the family's sake, he was willing to try. He was smart enough to surround himself with talented people and take advice and guidance from those he trusted. Alex knew people inside and out, and he was an excellent judge of character. Kennedy was jarred from her reverie at the beeping of the microwave. She forced herself to her feet and filled a small roaster with the stew and set it to bake in the oven. The biscuits began to take shape under her hands as she remembered.
Kennedy replaced a woman who had worked for Alex's brother and was well into retirement mode. She had hung on for a few years but had finally convinced Alex that he needed to find someone else. Kennedy soon learned that her job was to keep Alex focused and protect him from those who would waste his time while ensuring that he didn't feel isolated from his staff. She knew that she had become invaluable to him, and her salary reflected it, not to mention being included in his family. Alex's wife, Susan, was a gracious woman, unthreatened by the much younger Kennedy's proximity and involvement in Alex's life. She could have been the mother Kennedy longed for. And then she met Randall.
Randall was Alex's brother's son, the eldest of three children orphaned by that car accident. Alex's and Susan's nephew and twin nieces had moved in with them following the loss of their parents, and Kennedy found the girls charming. They were close to graduating from high school and seemed to flourish in Alex's and Susan's home. Randall, on the other hand, had been asked to leave two colleges for behavior that was never discussed within Kennedy's hearing, although it might have helped her to avoid what happened later had she known what he had done. Not that she didn't know there was something wrong with Randall. She treated him with total civility but remained aloof and was careful not to be alone with him whenever she visited Alex and Susan.
Randall would watch her when she visited, sometimes in the same room, but more often from a doorway or the stairs. It gave her the creeps, and from time to time Susan would look at her and visibly close her lips over something she wanted to say. Alex would glare at Randall and motion him to leave but seemed powerless to do anything more. Kennedy didn't want to stop going to their home for a meal or a celebration, didn't want Randall to spoil it for her, but she was close to doing so before Randall...
Graham stalked into the kitchen and pressed against her, slipping his arms around her waist and then lowering his mouth to her neck.
"I wondered what smelled so good," he rumbled, "and now I'm torn between you and whatever you have cooking."
Kennedy began to cut out the biscuits and lay them on the cookie sheet. Graham tensed and stepped back from her, moving around the island to look at her face.
"Kennedy."
She was helpless against his dark Dom voice and raised her head to look at him.
"What happened, honey?" he asked gently. "And don't lie to me."
Well, if he wanted to know, then he would know.
"You happened to me, Graham, you," she said. "You want honesty? Well, I hope you can take it because here it is," she said bitterly.
"You tracked me down. You wore me down. Well, good on you, the man of experience. And now my head is fucked. I'm back to where I was a year and a half ago, and I don't have the strength to do it again. No!" Kennedy fairly shouted it at him when he moved to interject. "I'm going to say it all."
She shoved the cookie sheet in the oven to give herself time to breathe and continued.
"I tried to stay away from you. I begged you to stay away from me. This isn't fate, Graham. This is fucking doom, my doom. I'm losing the hold I had on my life because of your lifestyle, and I can't do it. I just can't. I can't allow pain, even erotic pain, to combine with sex."
Kennedy crumpled to the floor and covered her face with her hands. She had no more tears, but her eyes burned and her chest ached. She felt Graham pick her up and tried to find the strength to resist but had none. He shushed her and rocked her on his lap after he sat down with her on the couch, but she couldn't find any comfort. She wanted to disappear, fade away, die. She was tired to death, and he had done this to her, ripped her defenses away in a few short hours. He and the memories would absorb her, consume her.
"Honey," he crooned, "you don't have to do anything alone. I'm here now. I'll help you."
Kennedy couldn't answer, so she just huddled like the sack of shit she was. After a while, Graham helped her to a chair and served up the stew and the biscuits. He patiently made her eat a few mouthfuls before taking care of his own hunger. Then he cleaned up. Kennedy listened as he called someone named Jordan and asked him to take his shift. It appeared he wasn't leaving, and she wished she could tell him to go and let her be by herself.
Graham was concerned by Kennedy's retreat into herself. When he asked her if she had any medication to take, she had shrugged, and no coaxing or insistence elicited a verbal response. He felt hugely guilty and anxious about her earlier accusations. What if he had indeed set her back? She needed to talk to him, tell him what had happened to her. He couldn't fix what he didn't know was broken. It never crossed his mind to leave her alone as she had begged him to or take her to a doctor. Kennedy was his, and he hadn't imagined her response to him that afternoon. Graham was good at puzzles. Now, all he had to do was start putting the pieces together.
He started by removing Kennedy's clothing. She didn't resist until he got down to her modest white panties and even then made only a token effort. She smelled of soap and woman, and he decided to take the time to examine every inch of her. It felt like the right thing to do, and he didn't question it. He laid her on the bed and turned on both bedside lamps and the overhead light. Kennedy tried to curl around on herself when he did that and pushed at him when he positioned her flat on her back with her legs spread and her arms above her head.
"Go away," she said petulantly. "What in hell are you doing?"
"I'm inspecting my property, wench," Graham advised her. "I didn't do a proper job this afternoon."
Kennedy squinted her eyes against the glare and sat up, shielding her breasts with one arm and covering her pussy with her other hand.
"Do not cover yourself, Kennedy," Graham ordered.
"Fuck you," she snarled, albeit halfheartedly.
"I'll tie you down if I have to, or you can lie back and let me explore you."
Fear warred with anger in her remarkable eyes, and fortunately, anger won. It pulled her from that weird state of isolation. She came up off the bed so quickly that she nearly got past him, but he managed to get an arm around her and toss her back onto the mattress where she bounced, her breasts jiggling prettily.
"It's me, honey," he reminded her, "and I won't do anything you won't like in the end."
"I'm no one's property, you bastard."
Now there was his girl. Not that he was going to let her get away with her attitude.
"On your back, legs spread, hands over your head. Now."
Graham yanked his belt off when she didn't immediately comply and lunged to cover her with his bulk, effectively wrapping her little wrists up and managing to secure them to the brass headboard. He speculated that he would probably have just minor bruising from the crack he took on his cheek from her lethal skull and congratulated himself on avoiding her teeth all together. He rummaged through her dresser until he found enough scarves to fashion ankle restraints, then timed her kicks well enough to hold a leg and tie her into place. Then he stripped and climbed onto the bed beside her.
Kennedy couldn't believe the highs and lows she had just experienced. She truly was a nutcase. Postcoital depression? No, it was more than that. And now she was tied down and totally exposed under merciless light for his freaking inspection. If depression was anger without the enthusiasm, then what the hell was this feeling? She was pissed off, embarrassed, a little anxious, and a lot aroused. She couldn't take the low that would inevitably follow more fantastic sex with Graham and tried to find the words to tell him.
"Please," she tried.
"Please what, honey? Too late for apologies. Ten."
"I don't mean that, Graham. Please listen to me."
Graham frowned at her. "Then tell me."
"I liked what happened earlier, and then afterward I crashed. I really hadn't felt that bad since, well, since someone hurt me eighteen months ago." Eighteen months, eleven days, and sixteen hours to be exact.
"I just don't have the reserves," she continued, "I can't keep coming back. You can't do this to me."
"Honey, I am not your doom. You and I have something together, and I'm not letting you push me away. We'll work through this together, sweetheart. We will."
"You aren't listening to me, Graham. You were bothered by my crash in the kitchen right? Well, you ain't seen nothing yet, buddy, if I go off on you."
"I've seen your temper, honey, and it makes me hard. I have never put up with that behavior before from any woman, so I know that you are special," he assured her.
"I'm not talking about my temper, Graham," she said darkly. "My temper is part of me, and I will never lose it. I'm talking about a full-blown PTSD episode. Like a military vet breakdown. There, I've said it."
"What the fuck happened to you, honey?" he asked, as he stroked her soothingly.
Kennedy shivered. "I might lose it if I talk about it."
"Honey, I want to earn your trust. Do you think telling me as much as you can and letting me support you through it might do that for you?"
"Untie me, Graham. Turn out the lights. I'll try."
"Nope, I won't do that, sweetheart. I'm no shrink, but I know that whatever happened to you is all connected with your body and a lack of control. I'm going to take care of you and shoulder your burden. But you're going to have to dig deep for courage and face things without hiding."
Kennedy closed her eyes and thought about it. The choice had pretty much been taken away from her but in a different way than that horrible time. Graham wasn't Randall. She could choose not to tell Graham, and he would continue to explore her anyway and wouldn't leave. Maybe this way she could work through the horror because she believed he would accept her. It was a risk, but she believed. She trusted a man she had just met and didn't question why or how that was.
Kennedy relaxed into Graham's caresses and told him about getting her first job as a PA with Alex, and how she had loved it as well as the opportunity to be included in Alex's family. She knew he watched her face and managed to look at him from time to time as she continued her story. When she described Randall, she felt Graham tense a little and her eyes flew to his. She was reassured when he dropped a kiss on her forehead and told her that she should always rely on gut instinct.
"I knew he was twisted inside, somehow. I knew he had done some really bad things. I didn't know what they were until it all came out later. The betrayal by Alex and Susan was the worst, you know. I trusted them. I cared about them, and they cared about me, unlike my parents! They knew what Randall was capable of and covered for him because he was family and because Alex mourned Randall's father. Maybe if they had told me, I would have taken action earlier and he wouldn't have..." Kennedy lost her voice.
Graham laved her nipples and stroked the sensitive undersides of her breasts. It felt so good and so caring and gave her the strength to go on.
"Randall showed up at closing time one day. I had never seen him in the office before. Alex had already left, and there was just me on that floor. I told him he would have to leave as I was on my way out when he blocked the door and gave me this look. Something evil stared at me, Graham. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I see that evil. He had tortured and killed animals when he was just a kid and no amount of therapy had fixed him. Alex paid off somebody at both of the colleges Randall went to, and there are only rumors, but it sounds like he attacked women there. I don't know the details, but he was probably working up to, well, working up to me."
Graham kissed her tenderly and then kissed his way down her body to nip and lick the inside of her thighs. Kennedy moaned and wished he would kiss her pussy. She felt her moisture slip out of her vagina in preparation for him. Graham speared his tongue into her and thrust in and out then retreated to kiss her thighs while he tangled his fingers in her pubic hair.
Kennedy tensed. He would feel them if he moved another fraction of an inch.
"Tell me, Kennedy. Tell me. Share your pain with me. Trust me."
"He told me what he was going to do to me, every little detail," she went on. "It shouldn't have been believable, but it was. He wasn't even twenty years old, Graham, but already a full-grown monster. I screamed for help and tried to fight him. I tried everything I knew except trying to reason with him. You can't reason with someone who isn't human."
Graham continued to stroke her from shoulder to hip and then smoothed his hand over her mound again. She tensed, but he didn't seem to notice anything. Maybe he thought she was just uncomfortable with talking about it. Except she wasn't uncomfortable. She had told Madi and Alberta a condensed version and her therapist nearly everything, but she had never told a man what another man had done to her. Even the police officer who took her statement at the hospital had been female. She was restrained and exposed, yet safe, and it felt liberating to tell it all. She most certainly had issues if this was therapeutic for her, but she didn't want Graham to leave.
"He hit me with his fists until I fell. I must have passed out because I don't remember him taking my clothes off."
Graham stretched out alongside her and rested his head against the side of her neck, his steady breathing giving her the courage to continue.
Graham didn't know how he was going to contain himself, but he was not going to let her down. Kennedy needed to finish this and find out that what she feared, his rejection, wouldn't happen. Their burgeoning relationship was different. And he wasn't going to let her have one of those episodes either. He knew he could help her control herself and get through it. Part of him didn't want to hear anymore. It was worse than anything he had imagined because it wasn't nearly over. The scars on her left breast were minuscule, just a fine line or two, but he had noticed. And he had felt the faint raised tissue under her pubic hair earlier. He just hadn't realized how they had been inflicted. Kennedy had endured and survived something he couldn't even wrap his head around, deliberate cruelty and violence, so at odds with what he practiced. No wonder she was scared of him, so confused. He had rushed her. He felt so possessive of her and also so enraged that he hadn't been there to protect her.
"He assaulted me, of course, and punched my face when I wouldn't suck him." Kennedy's voice was now flat.
Graham moved over her and kissed her, stealing her breath. He rested his forehead on hers and let his bulk warm her. He couldn't let her retreat into herself while she recited her story like it was about someone else. After a few minutes she went on.
"I think I went somewhere else in my head because it all felt far away after a while. And that made him angrier. He had a knife, a long filleting knife."
She began to weep silently, and Graham released the restraints to gather her close, petting her hair and rocking her against him.
"He showed me how sharp it was by chopping off a piece of my hair and threatened to put my eyes out with it. Instead, he cut my pubic hair off. He was so rough, and I felt the blood running down my thighs. He laughed and smeared it around. He told me he'd fuck me again just to see how it felt, if I'd be wet this time."
Kennedy took another deep breath, and it seemed that she borrowed Graham's strength, for she continued. "I was screaming and crying, and he was laughing. He looked insane, waving that knife around, my blood on it. I decided to block him out again, and he knew it. He slapped my face until I opened my eyes and told me he was going to cut my breasts."
Her voice came out all in a rush, "He started to cut me, and then there were people everywhere and lots of shouting, and Randall let me go. I found out later a security guard had noticed Randall enter the building but not leave. It was after hours, so they started a search. They walked in on us..."
Kennedy pushed away from Graham and rolled to find a tissue from the bedside table. He pulled her back while she dried her face and held her tight.
"I went to the hospital, and I saw a dentist, too. I healed physically, but the dental work took a really long time. I went for therapy, and that took even longer to get to where I am now. Alex and Susan came to see me in the hospital and apologized. They didn't say what they were sorry for, and I didn't ask. They left a letter that provided me with a reference to cover my forced absence from the workforce, a statement that my medical and treatment bills would be covered, and a check marked severance pay. I took the money and considered it my right."
Graham said, "I'm not going to fill up the silence by going on about what you already know, that none of what happened is your fault. I do want to know two things. Firstly, do you have any idea what a remarkable, resilient woman you are? And, where is that dirtbag?"
Kennedy stared at him. "I find that I like your opinion of me, although I don't feel that way all of the time, Graham. I strive for it though. And Randall is dead. Killed by another inmate while awaiting trial. His death is what gives me the strength to go on because he would have waited forever to have another crack at me, and I would have lived in fear of that until I died."
They cuddled in silence. Graham wished for Randall to be reincarnated so that he could kill him again.
"Can you tell me what you think about us, Kennedy?" Graham then asked.
"I'm attracted to you"---she shrugged---"and I obviously trust you to allow you to spank me and then tell you more than what I have told maybe four other people."
She smiled at him. "I like the sex for sure, and that's a big bonus, Graham, because I didn't really think I would ever want to fuck someone again."
Graham decided to go for broke. "I'm attracted to you, I'm hot for you, but it's more than that, honey. I'm set on you, and I'm not going to go away. So we have to find a way to make this work."
Kennedy bristled. "I'm not keen on ultimatums or pushy men, Graham, and you seem to meet both those criteria."
"I will expect your total submission in the bedroom, honey, that's no lie, although it will not always be about restraints or discipline."
Kennedy shook her head. "Can't do total, Graham. Maybe eighty percent, but there will be times that I will want to take charge and explore the softer side of you. That means you will need to trust me. And you have been warned. I may have a meltdown. Can you handle it?"
Graham wavered. "I absolutely can, and I will. Ninety percent."
Kennedy laughed. "Eighty-five."
"Done."
"Now, outside of the bedroom, you won't pull the caveman act, right?" she asked.
"I would hope that we would be partners in our relationship, Kennedy. We can discuss things and make decisions together when it affects both of us, and that will be most of the time. I promise to try to listen and consider your opinions and feelings. But you have to know that I have a strong personality."
"No shit," Kennedy said dryly. She wiggled out of his arms and gasped as he pulled her back.
"Where are you going?"
"I want a shower, Graham." She huffed.
"I'll help," he announced.
Kennedy tried to protest, but he swept her ahead of him and had her in the tub, the water running at the perfect temperature, and then crowded her against the tile wall. She closed her eyes as he soaped his hands and washed her from head to toe, paying special attention to her breasts and between her legs. Her arousal began to build, and when he shampooed and conditioned her hair, she nearly moaned out loud. No one had taken such good care of her, not even when she had been little. It felt wonderful, and she went with it.
Graham spoke in her ear. "I want to shave your pussy, honey. And don't go all tense on me. I don't care about those little marks. I just want to be able to lick and suck and touch all of it without any barrier. It will feel really good."
Kennedy looked at him. His face was stark with arousal, his amazing eyes stormy. "I'll get waxed."
Graham's eyes went silver, and she knew she had challenged him. Then he visibly processed things and relaxed. "This time, honey," he agreed. "But I'll do the maintenance. It's my pussy, too."
Kennedy shoved him. "I'm not a freaking car!"
Graham laughed and pulled her to his wet chest. "Poor choice of words, sweetheart. Do we have an agreement?"
He was like a dog with a bone. "Okay."
Speaking of bones, Kennedy was very aware of Graham's enormous erection poking her abdomen, the water from the shower making it slip and slide against her. She reached up to her hair to rinse the conditioner and lubed her hands with it. When she stroked Graham from base to head, he hissed and hardened even more. She swept her thumb over the slit and then followed the vein pulsing along the shaft, squeezing the base with her other hand. It was satisfying to feel him rise on the balls of his feet.
"This is the fifteen percent, Kennedy," he gritted out. "I didn't give you permission to touch me."
Kennedy ignored him and rinsed him with her hands, gently stroking. She dropped to her knees and enveloped him in her mouth, amazed that she couldn't take all of him, although she tried. She sucked him and used her tongue in unpredictable motions, concentrating on relaxing her throat so that she could take more of him. She tried everything she had covertly read in those risqué women's magazines. He slid his hands through her wet hair and began to guide her head.
Kennedy fought to swallow everything Graham gave her. She hadn't thought about him coming in her mouth. It just felt natural. But she wasn't prepared for the volume and the heat. He tasted salty and earthy, and she liked his flavor. There had to be a first time for everything, but he didn't need to know that. His head was big enough. Oh, bad pun, Kennedy. She rested her head on his thigh and caught her breath.
Graham reached down and tugged her to her feet, bending to crush her mouth with his. He was a goner. He was whipped. He was all those trite sayings men said about other men. Well, those men were just jealous or didn't know what they were missing. He tasted himself in Kennedy's mouth, something he hadn't done before despite the variety of sexual things he had done with women over the years. Their essences blended together like the finest whiskey. And now he was getting poetic. Jesus. He had looked down at Kennedy blowing him. He had wanted to stand in front of her, her on her knees on the bed, her hands tied behind her, so that he could teach her how to blow him the way he liked it. But damned if she hadn't gainsaid him, and he liked it and her style. She had been so focused on him, and her mouth was really talented. Graham had fought coming with everything he had. He hadn't been sure about letting her have control despite how good it felt. He worried that she was so little and had to stretch her back and neck up so high to take him. The bed would have made it easier for her. Then she had sucked him to the back of her throat and gulped. His balls had drawn up, and he shot down her throat in never ending streams without warning. Fuck! Where had that come from?
"Graham," she whispered against his lips. "I have to get some sleep. I have a job interview in the morning, and it will take some doing to make myself look presentable."
Graham snapped into Dom mode. He glared down at her beneath the now cooling spray of the shower. "You won't ever put yourself down, Kennedy. You challenge my opinion of you when you do that."
Kennedy pushed at him. "Get over yourself, Graham. I'm talking about paring my burn down to a dull glow instead of looking like an idiot who doesn't have enough sense to come out of the sun."
She had done it again. He was chagrined at his assumption. Kennedy was full of self-confidence. She knew and accepted her imperfections without obsessing over them. He'd nailed it when he complimented her resilience and strength. Still, he felt the masculine need to bluster.
"Just know that I'll redden your ass if you indulge in self-deprecation."
The little minx stuck her tongue out at him and hopped out of the shower quicker than he could imagine. He threw the curtain open, but she had already grabbed a towel and escaped. Graham hurried after her and took her down to the bed from behind, smacking her wet bottom as he did so. Kennedy shrieked in outrage and tried to buck him off. As if. He quelled her struggles with his weight and pushed his hardening cock between her ass cheeks, smiling as she immediately stilled.
"I'm going to fuck this nice little ass, Kennedy." He growled. He waited, hoping he wasn't wrong, that she was aroused and not opposed to the idea.
"Not without making sure I can take you, you big knucklehead," she replied.
"Name calling, honey," he told her, "gets five. And I'm keeping track of your cursing, too."
"Bullshit, Graham," she jibed. "You just want a reason to spank me because you like it and it gets you hard. Now get off me. I can't breathe."
Graham rolled off of her and pulled her on top of him. He held her head in his hands, enjoying the silky ropes of her hair sliding through his fingers. "You like to be spanked, Kennedy, so who's bullshitting who?"
He watched her eyes darken to that tawny gold he attributed to arousal.
"Maybe I do. Maybe I don't."
Graham was up with her in his arms and had her over his lap in an instant. He gave her seven hard smacks and then shoved a finger up her. Wet. Really wet. He flipped her onto the bed, pulled her up onto her hands and knees, and plunged into her pussy from behind, this time without pause, loving her gasp as she accommodated him. He pushed on her back to flatten her chest against the mattress and slipped a finger between them to use her juices as a lubricant. He had nothing with him and doubted his little honey had lube. Maybe baby oil, but he couldn't wait. He circled his wet finger around her rosebud opening, and she clenched on his cock. Her breathing escalated, too. He pushed a little, and his fingertip slid inside. He left it there for a bit before steadily pushing in. He got to his first knuckle before she tensed, and he immediately stopped.
"Relax, Kennedy, and push back on me," he urged. "That's my girl, just a little harder."
Graham knew from experience that Kennedy would have a hard time processing the feelings his finger creating in her ass. She would want it out, but she would want it deeper. She was relaxing and pushing back at the same time now and clenching on him, and his cock was swelling to meet it. Graham slowly slid his finger out and then back in. In and out.
"You're a natural at this, too, baby," he crooned above her, "a terrific mouth, hot pussy, and now an ass that just loves to be fucked."
"Do something," she choked out. "Move or fuck me or something."
Graham chuckled. He would buy Kennedy her own glass plugs. He liked to see everything when he inserted a plug, and some of the new plugs were hollow, too, and could be filled with water of any temperature. If Kennedy liked anal play, then he would be really happy to accommodate her. And he'd buy lots of lube, too. In the meantime, he needed to fuck her and let her sleep. While he knew a job would cut into their time together, she needed to work, just as he did. Well, he really didn't, but that was something he didn't share or think about. As he withdrew his finger to her protests, it struck him that Kennedy might not be totally accepting of his job. Well, he'd give up the sex in any event, and they would figure out the rest.
The blowjob had taken the edge off, and Graham was able to settle in for a long ride. He pumped and thrust against Kennedy's whimpers and moans, memorizing every clasp and slide of her tight channel. He worshipped the lovely length of her back and the soft round buttocks bumping his pelvis. He pulled her up and held her against his chest, looping her arms around his neck and helping her lock her fingers together to hold her in place. The angle let him touch her G-spot and gave him access to her breasts. He pinched and pulled the nipples until she whimpered in protest against the sensation, and bit down on her shoulder just where her neck joined. The dresser mirror reflected the most erotic scene. Kennedy was stretched and bowed back against him, her breasts lifted for his touch, her neck arched, her mouth partly open, and her eyes shut tightly. He could see where they joined, and it pushed his control as he saw the glistening of her sex as his cock slid in and out of his view up inside her. She would look even more beautiful when her pubic curls were gone and he would be able to see her clit. Graham finally leaned forward and thrust hard, reaching around to push and squeeze Kennedy's hard nub. He roared his release just as she went over, and he collapsed beside her, his cock sliding out in a great gush of liquid that soaked her thighs and dripped to the sheet.
Holy crap. No condom. What had be been thinking? He never, ever fucked without coverage except in that one previous relationship. He was in a business that was highly vigilant about the spread of STDs, let alone making babies. She was going to kill him.
"Kennedy?" he said, carefully.
"Mmmm?"
"Honey?"
"Go away, Graham. Sleep," she mumbled, never stirring from her near-crouching position, just as he had left her.
"Kennedy, honey, are you on birth control?"
"Uh-huh." And there followed a little snore, more like a breathy inhalation.
Thank God. Graham had just gotten used to finding the love of his life. He couldn't even think past that. Although Kennedy's baby would probably look like the two of them, maybe with her terrific eyes and his blond hair. Dark hair and gray eyes would be cool, too. What the fuck? Stop right now. She'd have a girl and the two of them would make him crazy. And why the hell was she on birth control? She hadn't had sex for over a year and a half, probably longer because you couldn't count what that asshole did to her. He wanted to wake her up and ask, but he'd sulk on it and wait until morning.
Chapter Five
Kennedy woke to Graham's mouth on her breast. The man was like the freaking ever-ready bunny. She wasn't a morning person, and a quick glance at the alarm clock had her pushing him away to slide off the bed and scuttle into the bathroom. Good God. Her hair had dried every which way and she had love marks all over her torso and neck. Son of a bitch. Her face glowed like a sunset, and she felt puffy. There was dried semen from her pussy to her knees. She was going to talk to that man about using condoms. He fucked other women for a living after all. Holy crap. She was a train wreck and had a job interview in just over an hour, and she'd finally just thought about his actual job? She jumped into the shower, but not before locking the bathroom door. Graham would probably want to bang her in the shower or something, and she was so late. She raced through her ablutions and wrapped up in towels before throwing the door open. Graham stood there looking supremely pissed. Too bad for him. Kennedy zigged and zagged and managed to slip under his arm and make it to the bedroom before he had a chance to touch her or even open his mouth. She knew he had followed her to the bedroom, but she was on a mission. Her closet awaited, and she hoped she could find something to cover the evidence of a night of debauchery.
"Kennedy." Graham's voice had that dark timbre she was beginning to associate with his Dom side.
"I'm late, Graham, and I really like my space in the morning," she advised. "Besides, you are causing me no end of problems."
To her surprise, Graham sat on the bed, gloriously naked, his cock jutting up and tapping his belly. For a moment Kennedy was mesmerized then tore her attention away and turned it back on sorting through her closet.
"I'm causing you problems?" he asked, very quietly.
"Graham, we don't even know one another, and our habits and stuff are going to take time to discuss, time I don't have at the moment," she said, tossing a white blouse and gray pencil skirt over her shoulder. Nope, the material was too heavy for this weather. Maybe the blouse with the A-line flowered skirt. Good to go. There were open-toed pumps in a blue that would pick up the colors in the skirt somewhere in her closet.
Graham watched as she shimmied into an underwire bra and matching boy shorts. Then he reached out and hauled her onto his lap.
Kennedy put her nose to his. "Graham, please. I have less than an hour to get ready and get to my interview."
"Why are you on birth control?"
Kennedy stared at him in amazement. "What?"
"Why are you on birth control?"
"Oh, for Christ's sake, Graham." She huffed. "I've been on the Pill on and off for years to regulate my cycle." She stopped and pulled back to examine his face.
"You're jealous," she stated. "Well, buddy, if I was fucking somebody else, I can assure you that you wouldn't be in my bedroom. I told you earlier. Now back off. And I still want you to use condoms until we talk about your job."
Graham fought the urge to spank her. He'd be smacking her ass ten times a day for the rest of their lives at the rate she pushed him. And he didn't really want her any other way. He felt badly that he had needed to ask about the birth control, but he couldn't let it go. Damn it, he was freaking possessive of her.
"Sorry, honey," he apologized. He never apologized to women. What did that make him? How was she changing him?
"That's what I mean about not knowing one another," Kennedy complained as she took advantage of his change in demeanor to slip off his lap and find her deodorant and fragrance. She turned to face him as he avidly watched her get ready.
"We should have a date later and talk," she suggested.
Graham mentally ran through his evening schedule. "I work at ten, honey, so I'm yours until maybe nine."
"Your job is something we are definitely going to talk about, Graham."
Graham kept his mouth shut. He knew a challenge when he heard one, but now was not the time. Besides, when had he ever watched a woman dress before? He wished she would leave the panties off, but that wouldn't be appropriate. Kennedy was so cute when she hitched that little skirt up and it flirted around her knees. The high-necked sleeveless blouse seemed a bit schoolmarmish to him, but then he realized she had to cover some marks he had left on her. No wonder she was a cranky pants this morning. And she said she wasn't a morning person. Well, that would work because he usually didn't get to bed until dawn or later. But then he might want a piece before he went to sleep. Crap. When would they fit in all the training and the sex if she got a day job? She really needed to consider Patrick's job offer. Then they would work the same hours, and he could use the club to train her. Except she might get it into her head to want to train him. That freaking fifteen percent.
He watched Kennedy add silver earrings and bangles to her outfit and step into her pumps. She sashayed into the bathroom and covered her blouse with a towel. Graham saw that she toned down her red face with foundation and a light powder and added a touch of mascara and lipstick. She looked healthy, like someone who spent a lot of time outdoors, and not like a pale damn Yankee or someone who forgot how lethal too much sun could be. She then wound her hair up into a relaxed knot and skewered it near the top of her head with what looked like two chopsticks. Graham was fascinated.
"What about breakfast?" Graham asked her from his relaxed position in her bathroom doorway. "You look really nice, by the way."
"Thanks. I'll grab a coffee and something down the block before I catch a cab, babe," she told him. "Lock up, okay? I'll meet you at Ringo's at six."
Kennedy drifted her lips across his, snagged her bag, and was out the door before Graham could get past being called babe. As an endearment, well, he had hoped for something a bit more manly. But he would take babe the first time she had referred to him as anything other than Graham. Or asshole. He thought he'd grab a few more hours of sleep before heading to the club to change and get ready for their date. He felt a bit of trepidation but was really quite thrilled at the idea. Pussy whipped.
Chapter Six
Graham surveyed the scene in front of him and worked hard at keeping his focus. He scowled anyway. The sub was gorgeous in her submission, her skin pinkened and glowing from the flogger. She had slipped into sub space some time ago, and her Dom was now using a vibrator to full effect. Graham should have been enjoying her cries of ecstasy and looking forward to her blowing him while her Dom fucked her from behind, but instead he was flaccid and bored. Oh, he'd done his part well. He had coached David through the process in order to provide the best experience for both him and Lana and would ensure Lana had an additional orgasm before the night was over, but he simply wasn't interested and engaged the way he should be. David already knew that Graham wouldn't be touching Lana for any personal sexual purpose and had accepted it with only a lift of one eyebrow. David was new at BDSM, but he liked to share, and so did Graham until Kennedy crashed into his life. If the wench had kept their date tonight, or last night, seeing as it was now three o'clock in the morning, then maybe he wouldn't be in this state of mind. His cock filled at the thought of Kennedy, and he recalled her phone message.
"Hi, babe. I'm leaving this at the club because someone didn't leave me a contact number, so hope you get it. It's Kennedy." Like he wouldn't know that voice. The call had been forwarded from Patrick's office, accompanied by an innocent sounding but teasing introduction from the woman who managed their answering service.
"I can't make our date. I've been called back for a re-interview and can't miss it. And Graham? Don't go all dominant on me. I'm not avoiding you. Call me."
Kennedy already had a window into him. She knew he would not take rejection well and wanted to make sure he was aware that this was a situation in which she couldn't put him first. If she worked for Patrick, then this kind of thing wouldn't happen. He was going to talk with her about it as soon as he finished his shift. She might not be a morning person, but he needed to see her and maybe convince her that morning exercise in the form of strenuous sexual activity was a good idea.
Kennedy woke to the sounds of her doorbell. Someone was leaning on it. She struggled groggily out of bed and padded down the hall. Who else could it be other than Graham? She missed him. The re-interview had been a bust, and so she had spent a quiet evening alone reflecting on him and wishing she hadn't cancelled their date. But missing him didn't necessarily counteract her irritation at being woken up at the crack of dawn. The sun wasn't even up yet. Although Graham probably was. She checked through the peephole, and there he was, glowering at the door. She threw the bolts and let him in.
Graham had her wrapped up before the door closed and was kissing her like he hadn't seen her for a week. Kennedy couldn't breathe, and her knees literally buckled. He released her and scooped her up, striding to the bedroom where he stripped her of her nightshirt and pushed her onto her back on the bed. He had his shirt partway off before he descended on her pussy, and Kennedy nearly screamed at the sensation of his wet mouth and stabbing tongue. She was now fully awake and decided he was much better than even a dark coffee laced with cream to get her juices flowing in the morning. Pun intended. She raced to orgasm, and he scrambled up her body to shove himself deep inside of her. Oh no, no, no, no. She pushed at his shoulders.
"Graham, stop!" she nearly yelled.
He froze and lifted his head to look down at her, his eyes silver with arousal, the skin taut over his cheekbones.
"Condom, Graham, for God's sake," she ordered.
Graham rolled off her and fished in his pants pocket. He hadn't even taken his pants off, just pulled his cock out. This was insane. He had thought about her all night and all the way over. His foot had been like lead on the gas pedal, and he was lucky to avoid being pulled over. All he could think of was claiming his woman and control had gone out the window. Insane. He sat up and faced away from her, trying to breathe through his arousal and calm down. Her hand stroked down his back, and he shivered at her touch.
"Fuck me, Kennedy," he apologized gruffly. "You make me crazy."
"Well, you make me crazy, too, babe, so suit up and get back to where you left off."
He sheathed himself and climbed between her legs. All thoughts of a fast, dynamic rut dissolved before the look on her face. She looked beautiful, her hazel eyes smoldering that sandy gold, dark hair spilling across the pillow. But the best of all was the wide, welcoming smile she gave him. Graham pushed up inside of her and held himself above her, watching her, locking eyes with her, as he thrust slowly. They built together, and when Graham saw her face tighten and felt her begin to ripple around him, he picked up the pace and swiveled his hips. He groaned his release as Kennedy whimpered hers. He sank down on top of her, and she enveloped him with her warmth. Again, it felt like coming home.
Kennedy finally slipped her legs from around his waist and dropped her arms to the mattress. "I need to breathe, Graham. Get some sleep."
Graham rolled off of her. He disposed of the condom and then pulled her against his chest. He spooned into her back and dropped into slumber.
When he next opened his eyes, Kennedy's side of the bed was empty and sunlight flooded through a crack in the blinds. It was nearly one o'clock, and he felt as though he had had the best night's sleep of his life. His only regret was that he hadn't woken to find his woman beside him. He wanted to be able to pull her on top of him and have her ride him as a wakeup call or maybe suck him with her luscious mouth. Graham thought he would never get tired of making love to her. It felt like making love because it didn't feel like fucking, although there would be lots of makeup sex, too, what with her attitude. He swung out of bed and went prowling for her. A note on the counter held in place by a little dog figurine caught his eye.
Shit, they were like ships passing in the night. The sex was great, but he found himself really needing to talk to Kennedy and get to know her. He wanted to know about childhood and her favorite foods, where she wanted to travel, everything. He found a casserole in the fridge as promised and shoved it in the oven. His little woman was domestic, too. He found he liked being taken care of. Subs owed their Doms, too. It wasn't just about Doms giving. Not that Kennedy was his sub. She was nobody's sub, and he would do well to remember that. But so far he was adjusting okay even if he really did have plans to try and train her. Graham went off to shower and shave, finding the bag he had dropped just inside the door that morning placed at the foot of the bed. He was glad she hadn't unpacked for him, but that seemed like Kennedy. She respected his space just as she expected him to respect hers. Another adjustment, and there was going to come a time when he and she would butt heads, but probably only in the bedroom. Probably.
Graham sat at the breakfast bar and ate the most incredible egg and bacon casserole he had ever tasted. He wasn't sure he had ever had the dish before, but it tasted amazing. It had everything in it from bread to eggs to bacon and cheese. Kennedy had added some kind of spice he couldn't identify, but he sure liked it. She had set the coffeemaker up, too, and he felt her presence even if she wasn't there. He had cleaned up after his late breakfast and was making the bed when he heard the apartment door open and two thuds. That would be Kennedy kicking off her shoes. How he knew the sound he wasn't sure, but there you had it.
Kennedy stood in the bedroom doorway. "Too bad you wasted your time making the bed, babe," she purred as she unbuttoned yet another high-necked blouse. "We're just going to mess it up again."
Graham watched as she let the blouse float to the floor and Kennedy's breasts, covered in a scrap of lace, came into view, decorated with whisker burn and love nips. His cock filled instantly. Almost lazily she popped the front clasp of the bra and her breasts spilled out, the bra then joining the blouse. She unzipped the skirt and it slithered down to pool at her feet. She stepped out of it and walked to him, taking her hair down as she did so. Holy shit, she had no panties on, and her mound was bare. She had something in her hand, and as she bumped into his chest, she raised that hand to dangle a bottle in front of his face.
"See this, babe?" She nearly growled. "This is a lotion that's supposed to cool and treat tender skin after waxing. I bought a bottle, Graham, because I had my pussy waxed just for you and I fucking well have super tender skin!! You had better fix it."
Graham absolutely didn't laugh. He put that chuckle far away in the recesses of his brain. He didn't know the ins and outs of waxing but suspected it was a little uncomfortable, and if he laughed or did anything else inappropriate, then Kennedy might conduct a little wax experiment on him. He did his own manscaping with a razor and moustache scissors. He very gently took the bottle from Kennedy's hand and carefully read the label.
"Lie back on the bed, honey," he urged, "and I'll get a towel for you."
When he came back with a towel, Kennedy was flat on her back in the middle of the queen-sized bed, her legs spread and well apart, her feet flat on the mattress. Her head was elevated on two pillows as she tried to peer between her legs.
"I couldn't even put my underwear back on, Graham," she whined.
"Oh, honey, I'll take care of you," he promised, willing his hard-on to subside at the sight of her naked labia, although he could see how red and swollen she was even from the foot of the bed. She had done this for him, and now he wouldn't be able to fuck her! Shit, he was a pig. He needed to get his priorities straight and quit thinking with his cock. Graham knelt between Kennedy's thighs and tenderly applied the lotion, being careful not to touch her clit or allow the finger that seemed to have a mind of its own slide up her vagina. Kennedy winced and made a little hissing sound at first and then relaxed as the moisturizing topical anesthetic did its job.
"The woman who tortured me said a cool cloth would help as well," she suggested, and Graham hopped up to find another washcloth. He was definitely investing. He ran the water just under lukewarm and found another towel. He pressed the cloth between her legs and was rewarded with another appreciative moan.
"Uh, did that woman say when you could have sex again?" he ventured.
Kennedy was silent for a few moments, and Graham thought he had probably opened his mouth too soon.
"Two to three weeks," she finally answered.
"Two to three weeks!"
Kennedy burst into laughter. "Oh, babe, the look on your face. No, silly. The tenderness should be gone overnight. But you have to keep on with the lotion and the cool cloths until then."
Graham figured he had entered the twilight zone. He never got teased. He was the boss, damn it, and no one messed with him. Well, at least not inside the club. The laughter bubbled up and out, and he felt years younger. God, this woman might be the death of him, but what a ride.
"I'll take care of you, honey, and you'll just have to figure out another way to take care of me," he advised her.
"Okay, babe."
"The breakfast was really good," Graham said. "Thanks."
Kennedy stretched, and his eyes followed the movement of her breasts. He stood and had his clothes off in an instant, loving how her eyes widened at the sight of him naked and then turned the color that signified her arousal. He strode to the bathroom and grabbed her baby oil, pouring a pool into his hands and lubing his cock as he went back to her.
"Graham," she protested.
He straddled her waist and stroked her breasts until they shone with oil. "Here's one of the ways you can take care of me, honey," he advised.
He placed his cock between her mounds and pressed her breasts around him, beginning to slide back and forth in the tunnel he created. It felt great, and when the head began to bump her chin, Kennedy obligingly tilted down to let him push just inside her mouth, the head resting on her plump bottom lip and looking as hot as he knew it would. The sight of his cock emerging from between her breasts and then pushing into her lips made him harder and he began to fuck in earnest. When his balls started to draw up in anticipation of his climax Graham pushed himself further into Kennedy's mouth and let himself go when she closed her lips around him and sucked the head hard.
"Hold it all in your mouth, honey, hold it all," he nearly begged her, then withdrew when he finished spurting. "Now swallow."
The sight of her holding and then swallowing his entire load was incredibly erotic, and Graham tenderly stroked her face then pressed a kiss on her nose.
Graham suddenly realized that Kennedy was waiting on him. It wasn't like him to deny a woman an orgasm unless she was being punished, and he certainly wasn't punishing Kennedy. He must seem a bit slow on the uptake today, and if he didn't figure it out shortly then there might be hell to pay.
He moved back between her legs and carefully spread her labia. He paused to slip a pillow beneath her butt so that he could have better access without touching her sore folds. She was already wet. Blowing him had turned her on, and he was elated. He teased her clit out and then penetrated her with two fingers, using his thumb to press and circle her little nub. The baby oil helped him avoid putting too much friction on the lips of her pussy, and from the way she was clamping on him, he wasn't hurting her at all. In for a penny. Graham pushed his other lubricated thumb against her anus and steadily applied pressure until he got past the muscles at her entrance. He rotated his thumb in cadence with the one on her clit, and Kennedy began to arch into him. His thumb slid in as deep as the webbing of his hand would allow, and she felt incredibly hot and tight. He rotated it again to press against the fingers on the other side of the thin membrane that separated the digits and pushed down on her clit. Kennedy screamed her release and flooded his hand.
When Graham returned from the bathroom after washing up, Kennedy was on her side and breathing evenly. He cleaned her up from behind, being careful to avoid rubbing too hard, and tossed the cloth. He wasn't tired but couldn't resist spooning with her. When she woke up, he would introduce her to a butt plug. They could go out for dinner and start the delayed "talk." She might as well be uncomfortable from front to back and get it all over at once. He wasn't budging on that.
Chapter Seven
"No, Graham, that's not fair," Kennedy struggled to pull out of his hold.
"Eighty-five percent, honey," came Graham's inflexible answer.
Kennedy had just come back from the bathroom after waking up refreshed from her nap and ready for dinner with Graham to find him sitting on the bed beside a mound of pillows, a glass butt plug in his hand. She backed up and protested, but he wrapped her up in his arms and pushed her, belly down, over the pillows.
"But my pussy still stings," she bargained.
"This will take your mind off your pussy, Kennedy," Graham suggested. "Now get that little butt in the air."
"If it hurts, you had better stop, Graham," she warned.
"You like anal play, honey, and it'll burn a bit at first and feel pretty full, but you'll get used to it."
"And you know this how?" Kennedy had stopped struggling, but her tone was dark.
"I've put butt plugs into lots of women, Kennedy. It's part of my job. And most of them like it and have told me how it feels. Any who don't like it don't have to have one. Not even for punishment. I thought about an inflatable one, but these are better for me."
Kennedy simmered. "Better for you?"
"Honey, anal play and anal sex are great for lots of people, men and women. I won't fuck you there if you don't want it, although I really hope you do. But the plug is nonnegotiable. You liked my fingers in there, so you are going to try a plug." Graham went on. "And I love to see a glass plug enter a woman's ass because you can see the ring open and the pink beyond it. It arouses me."
Kennedy fought a huge spurt of jealousy and wished she could slap him. How fucking insensitive. She didn't want to hear about his other women, let alone be compared to them. Her eyes filled with tears of rage and hurt, and she ducked her head so he couldn't see them.
"Honey?" Graham rolled her onto his lap. "Kennedy, what's wrong? Please tell me those tears aren't your way of denying me."
Kennedy dashed the tears away with an impatient hand. "You are so fucking insensitive, Graham. Whatever. Just get it done."
"Uh-uh, honey." His voice took on that dark tone. "You explain right now, or I'll encourage you. Good communication is essential in any relationship."
"Fine. How would you like it if I described my intimate sexual acts with the other men I've fucked?" she asked. "Do you want to hear why I like blow jobs or why I swallow?"
She watched Graham shake his head and hopefully fight his own jealousy. "No, honey. I'm sorry. I'm used to being frank because of the club. I won't talk about other women, or at least I'll try not to. And never, ever think that I am comparing you, Kennedy. There is no comparison. Believe that, honey."
Kennedy was taken aback by how emphatic he sounded. Well, okay.
"I do, Graham. But I was jealous."
Graham loved that she was jealous, but there was no need. No one in his past meant anything to him, not even Jennifer, although he thought she did at the time. He would have to tell Kennedy about Jennifer before someone else did. The club had its shit disturbers just like anyplace else, and if he had his way, Kennedy would be spending a lot of time there with him. He stroked Kennedy's back and whispered that she really had no reason to be jealous, and she relaxed. He spread her back onto the pillows and grabbed a tube of lubricant. Kennedy's rosebud winked up at him, and he nearly groaned at the thought of taking her there. He had the insane urge to confide in her.
"Kennedy?" he asked.
"Uh-huh?"
"I've taken butt plugs, too, honey, as part of my Dom training. I know from that experience that you'll be okay with this, so trust me."
"I trust you, babe."
Graham lubricated her anus and then inserted the narrow nozzle inside to add a fair amount there. He coated the plug and then began to push it into Kennedy. She tensed, and he urged her to relax and press back and outward, pleased when she complied. He had chosen a larger plug than usual because she had liked the play and wasn't too hard to penetrate. The glass let him see the whole process and aroused him significantly just as he had explained to her. But this time it was Kennedy's virgin ass he was preparing, and his cock seemed to appreciate that even more. He slowly turned the plug as he pushed it in, and Kennedy's whimpers changed to something more breathy. She was getting off on this, just as he believed she would. He carefully slipped a finger through her slit to seek out her clit, the lube and her own juices helping him slide along. He pulled the plug out a little and pushed it back in, circling her clit as he did so, and Kennedy began to undulate ever so slightly. By the time he had the toy seated, she was humping his hand despite her tender folds, and he pinched her nub to push her over. She shrieked into the mattress, muffling the sound but confirming that he had made the correct decision to push her. By this time tomorrow night he would be taking her ass if he could move her up to the bigger plug in the morning. Unless she had another freaking job interview. This work stuff was interfering with his life.
The restaurant was full of intimate diners, and Graham was amazed at how comfortable he was in the setting. Kennedy looked beautiful in a silky yellow dress that hinted at cleavage and worshipped the rest of her curves. He wouldn't let her wear panties, slipping a small harness on her instead to support the plug. The harness fit between her sensitive labia and didn't chafe, but he knew her clit felt the slide of the soft leather. She would be so ready for him tonight. The padded booth helped her to sit in reasonable comfort, and he had slipped her one of those ubiquitous washcloths to put under her because of her anxiety about soiling her dress with lube. Despite the plug and the harness, or perhaps because of them, she had participated in their date with enthusiasm. She told him about her early years and her lack of connection to her parents. He liked how she gave credit where it was due to the folks who rallied around her, but he also recognized her strength of spirit and determination.
Kennedy talked about her interest in business and how she had learned of her skill at supporting those people in charge. She didn't long for that position herself, content to work behind the scenes. Graham was impressed with her loyalty to her friends and sensed the compassion and tolerance behind her acerbic wit and feistiness. Her face was so beautiful when animated, and he could see the lovely spirit in her. He never wanted to break that spirit but longed to free her from her burdens by making her his and taking care of her.
Graham became aware that Kennedy was staring at him in amusement.
"Earth to Graham," she said.
"Sorry, honey, just thinking about you."
She narrowed her eyes. "Right, what body part or what sexual act?"
Graham laughed. "Not about that, honey, believe it or not. Just thinking that you are as nice inside as out."
Kennedy gave him a measuring stare but didn't respond.
Over coffee, she said, "So, your turn, babe. Fess up."
Graham concealed his stiffening from her and smiled. "Not a whole lot to tell, honey. New York State originally, came out here for college, decided higher education wasn't for me. I've been on my own since twenty-two. I met Patrick at a BDSM mixer. He was teaching proper restraints, and it spoke to me. I've always been a take-charge kind of guy in the bedroom, and I guess I found my niche."
As he hoped, Kennedy was distracted by the reference to his job. She told him she was sorry about him having no family because she well knew how that felt, and he chose not to correct her. He really didn't have a family that he acknowledged, and he simply didn't talk about them to anyone. Patrick knew a little because of something that took place where he got involved. Kennedy was alone, and for intents and purposes, so was he. They would make a good match of some kind.
"Give me the short version of what a shift entails, Graham," she said.
"I train subs, honey, sometimes with a Dom, sometimes without."
"Details, babe," she insisted.
"All subs come with a file that they have filled out. They express their interests and preferences and note what they do not want to experience," Graham said.
"So, are we talking about spankings, floggings, whippings?" she asked.
"Yes, and there are some other forms of discipline that provide erotic pain to enhance orgasm," Graham added.
"I don't really care what those are, babe. I want to know more about the sex part. I'm not having sex with you if you're fucking other women."
Graham didn't mind the demand. He would have preferred to tell her that it had been his prior decision to abstain, but somehow her jealousy and insistence that he be faithful to her felt right.
"I haven't fucked another woman since I met you, honey, and you can take that to the bank. I expect the same fealty from you."
"No problem," Kennedy agreed. "So, no intercourse, anal or vaginal, no blow jobs, no touching."
"Honey, I have to touch. I told you I insert plugs. I also use dildoes, vibes, nipple clamps, clit clamps..." He trailed off at the look on Kennedy's face.
"Holy shit, Graham. No wonder you like your job so much. Do you finger fuck them? Eat them?" she snapped.
Graham took a deep breath. "I might have to," he admitted.
"Then we are done, Graham, sorry, but I can't do it. It's just too much for me. I'd be thinking about you doing it. And it would get between us when we are in bed," she choked out.
"I'm not giving you up, honey," Graham answered her, crowding her into the corner of the booth. He slipped a hand up her skirt.
Kennedy pushed him. "Quit trying to make me agree by seducing me, asshole."
"Ten," he advised quietly.
"Whatever." She nearly spat.
Graham threw money on the table and forcibly escorted Kennedy toward the door. His libido was raging out of control at her rejection, and he wasn't going to put up with it. He ignored the startled looks of the other patrons at his brusque behavior and realized that Kennedy had her public face on. He was indeed being an asshole, and he looked it. He forced himself to slow down and act fairly naturally.
The drive back to Kennedy's was silent, and he could feel her fuming. He changed his mind and turned toward the club.
"Where are you going?" she asked, her voice thin and high.
"To the club," he answered. "You need to see for yourself what we do there. It's a service, a job, and the subs mean nothing to me other than being valued clients. The physical release I used to get was a fringe benefit. I won't get anything now but knowing the job has been well done and the subs don't get hurt by some wannabe."
Kennedy remained silent, but he hoped she was processing his explanation. He didn't know any other way to work at the club. Unless he just trained Doms and Jordan took the subs. Jordan liked training subs better anyway... He didn't want to give up his job, although he might, for Kennedy. Crap. Pussy whipped.
Kennedy watched Jordan put a fairly new sub through her paces. Part of her envied the woman's ability to give up control and accept what he gave her. It was highly erotic. Intellectually, she supposed she could accept that the woman wanted to be well trained in order to be placed with a Dom. Especially when she didn't have one to train her. Viva la capitalism. There was a job for every vocation that she could see. But her heart couldn't accept the fact that it would be Graham bringing that sub to orgasm, working her clit with his fingers, maybe sucking it. She was amazed at how possessive she was. She simply couldn't share. She didn't see Graham exchange a telling look with Patrick and leave.
Kennedy forced herself to look at Graham and froze when she realized he had left the room. She looked to Patrick, who smiled at her reassuringly.
"Graham will be up next, replacing Jordan," he told her. When Kennedy tensed, he added, "You can't make a decision until you see him working, my dear, so if you care for him at all, give him this."
Kennedy nodded and turned to stare at the monitor. Thank goodness the security guard had been sent on break. He had apparently worked there for years and had probably seen everything, but it still felt really awkward. Having Patrick there felt awkward, too. This was so personal, so intimate. Not like watching porn.
The screen filled with a shot of a young woman, wrapped in a thin robe, entering on the arm of a large, older man. Graham entered behind them. Even without audio, Kennedy could feel his imposing presence. It seemed to shore up the tentativeness exhibited by the other man, who turned to the woman. She immediately removed her robe and folded it, kneeling before him and setting the robe on the floor beside her. Graham clearly said something, and she adjusted her position. Graham looked like a Norse god in his tight leather pants, his bare chest glistening in the lighting, the single tail hanging from his waist. His hair was tied back the way it had been the night she met him. Now the sub was fully presented to both men, her breasts lifted, legs spread to show her ass and labia. Kennedy noted that Graham didn't stare at her but coached the other man how to touch her for better display. He then spoke to the sub, who rose to walk to the cross-like structure in the center of the room.
Graham pointed out the restraints to the other man, who followed his instructions and effectively bound the woman. Graham showed him how to check the restraints. Kennedy then realized that Patrick was quietly explaining what was taking place as she watched. Graham modeled the use of the flogger and stepped back to watch the other Dom's technique, stepping in only when it was needed. Patrick explained sub space to her and the degree of force subs required to reach it, as all were different and needed to be watched carefully. That was Graham's job. No sub should be hurt if it could at all be avoided. Erotic pain was one thing. Pleasure had rooms where hard-core pain was provided, but Graham only monitored there. Kennedy was relieved. Patrick went on to say that Graham was the best with the single tail he had ever seen. He never drew blood, and the marks faded within a day or two. Subs apparently asked for him especially.
Kennedy observed the woman being pleasured with a variety of toys, but her own Dom, not Kennedy's, administered it all. She was a bit startled to think of Graham that way, but there it was. Graham coached and watched and certainly he was not unaffected. Kennedy could see how his leathers bulged. But she wasn't unaffected either. So, she mused, he could coach and watch but not touch. Maybe she could cope with that. Patrick was now watching her, looking a bit amused. She looked away so that he couldn't read her thoughts. These Doms. They thought they knew it all. When the older man moved to fuck his woman from behind as she knelt, he gestured to Graham. Graham gravely shook his head and gave a tiny bow, then left the room. Kennedy understood that he had turned down a blow job. Oh, they had so much to work through.
Graham pushed into the security booth and locked his eyes on hers. Kennedy stepped into him and wrapped her arms around him, taking in his scent. He relaxed and nuzzled her hair, returning the hug.
"I can live with that, Graham. Can you live without what Jordan did?" she asked, her voice muffled by his chest.
"I can if Jordan is okay with it and Patrick has no problem. But, sweetheart, there will be times when I will have to touch..."
"Then make it fucking clinical," Kennedy snapped.
Patrick laughed. "Jordan will be in heaven. He doesn't have the patience to train Doms like you do, Graham. If you're sure..."
"He is," Kennedy informed him.
Patrick came to face her. "I would like to talk more with you about the PA position, Kennedy."
Graham interjected, "Kennedy and I have some unfinished business, Patrick, so let's have breakfast tomorrow and discuss it then, okay?"
Kennedy was startled but kept quiet as Graham put her up and over his shoulder and nearly ran down the hall with her. She could hear Patrick laughing behind them. Graham chose a room at random and punched in the code. Déjà vu. Kennedy found herself on the bed, her dress pulled up and off before she could take a big breath. Graham was then pulling off his leathers and opening the wardrobe, so she reclined on the bed in her bra and harness and watched his muscular butt emerge. She so wanted to pat it, but this was probably an eighty-five percent time.
Graham came over to her. "Roll over, honey," he ordered.
Kennedy complied and felt him undoing the harness. The butt plug was gently pulled out, and she clenched on emptiness. It hadn't been totally uncomfortable once she got used to it, and now she felt at a loss. The feel of more lube and a much larger hard presence at her anus made her gasp, and Graham smoothed a hand down her spine then held her firmly as he pressed and swirled a larger plug inside. This one was harder to adjust to, and she squirmed at the pressure.
"Relax and push back and out, honey. That's it," he crooned. "You look so beautiful here, I can't wait to push my cock inside."
Kennedy still wasn't sure about anal sex. Graham was really well endowed. However, she trusted him not to injure her and really hoped she would like the sex itself. The feeling of Graham sliding the bigger plug in and out, twisting it until it was seated firmly, was kind of hot. She wiggled against the bed.
Graham immediately flipped her over onto her back. "Uh-uh, honey, you get to come when I say you can."
Kennedy kept quiet only with great restraint. Eighty-five percent. She sure didn't negotiate that very well. Graham carefully parted her labia and slipped something up inside of her. Between the new invader and the plug, she felt pretty full. The thing inside her pussy began to tremble, and Kennedy felt her eyes pop open, especially when Graham fit something over her clit and it, too, began to vibrate, but at a different speed than the one inside her. Holy shit.
Graham pulled her to her knees, his face dark above her, his eyes positively stormy with desire. He placed her near the foot of the bed, and his cock jumped in front of her face. Graham fisted his hands in her hair and held her head steady.
"Open."
Kennedy obligingly opened her mouth, and Graham pushed inside.
"Close your mouth around my cock and don't let go. If you do, you will wrack up a punishment. I'm going to fuck your mouth, and you will take it, do you understand, Kennedy? Keep your hands on your thighs at all times, or I'll tie them behind your back."
Kennedy nodded, or as much of a nod she could give with a mouth full of cock. The vibrating at her sex was making her lose her focus as it worked her toward the edge. Surely Graham wouldn't mind if she let go when she came. It would be hard not to.
"If you come before I say you can, another punishment. And Kennedy, I'm not talking about spanking. You like that too much."
Kennedy realized that she had pushed Graham hard tonight with her rejection and her demands. He was retaking control. She wasn't sure she liked it, but on some level she was so aroused that her body was urging her to go with it. So she did.
Graham steadily fucked her mouth, at first with shallow thrusts, then with deeper ones. At times she couldn't breathe as he held firm against the back of her throat, and she couldn't get even a small breath through her nose. But she didn't gag, and he didn't hold firm any longer than she could manage. She wanted to use her hands on him, but she wasn't ready to be tied up, so she refrained. She fought to stave her climax off and was glad she didn't have to do anything to pleasure Graham because she couldn't seem to focus. Graham tensed and began to ejaculate down her throat. Kennedy swallowed again and again, trying to take him all. He pulled out and stroked her cheek then pressed his thumb against her lips. He had been just the right height for her in her position, and while her jaw ached a little, her neck and back were fine.
Graham sat on the bench. He motioned to his lap.
"Get over my lap, Kennedy," he told her.
Shit, she had forgotten his edict in the restaurant. Something about their conversation had bothered her, eluded her, but now wasn't the time to think about it. She awkwardly made her way over to him, trying to hold the toys inside of her. Graham trapped her legs between his and shoved her head forward. His superior strength and intent kind of thrilled her. She was so turning into a pervert. The first smack stung like fury, and she whimpered. Graham grunted above her. He probably liked to hear her response. The next five came fast and furious and with no predictable pattern. Kennedy whimpered in earnest, and the remaining blows nearly pushed her over. She felt Graham harden against her thighs. The night was not over.
Graham lifted her and laid her back on the bed, her knees at the edge, her feet dangling toward the floor. The plug pushed deeper in this position and pressed against that damn vibrator. She couldn't hold off much longer now that there wasn't the spanking to distract her. Graham knelt between her legs and turned up the vibrator, his other hand that rested on her belly being the only thing that kept her from rising straight off the mattress.
"Why do you like blow jobs? And swallowing?" he asked, as her clit began to heat and swell.
"What?" she managed.
"Blow jobs. Swallowing."
"Oh God, Graham, please, I need to come," she begged.
"Answer me."
Kennedy took some deep breaths and tried not to come. She came apart despite herself. When she was able to open her eyes, Graham was staring at her. He sighed and shook his head.
"No self-control. A punishment is in order, Kennedy. And then you will answer my question."
Kennedy found herself up against the bedroom wall. Her hands were secured above her head to hooks on the wall and her ankles tied to other restraints near the floor. Graham had removed the vibrators, but the plug was still up her ass and her position against the wall seated it firmly. Graham popped the front clasp of her bra and her breasts spilled out. The look on his face made her thighs clench. Gone was the slightly supercilious, disengaged mask he wore when he was teaching the older Dom. Graham was putting it all out there for her. She wondered if he would lose his membership in the society of Doms. Better not say that out loud. Her sense of humor always cropped up when she was apprehensive. Graham had something in store for her, and maybe she wouldn't like it. Kennedy wished he'd get it over with.
Graham sucked her nipple hard, and it pulsed right to her apex. Her breasts had always been sensitive, but Graham knew just how to touch her. When he let go, she felt a pinch. Holy shit. He had clamped her. Holy shit. Kennedy writhed against the bite of pain and tried to shrink away when he repeated the process on her other breast. It was too much. She couldn't process it and opened her mouth to tell him so when he blew across each sensitive nub. Kennedy shrieked at the sensation and gasped for more, but he withdrew.
"Blow jobs, Kennedy. Swallowing."
Kennedy tried to resist and watched him reach out to tap her left nipple. The tiny sting reverberated through her and spiraled to her pussy. When he reached for the right nipple she gave up.
"I rarely did blow jobs before, Graham. And I never swallowed. I was pulling your chain."
Graham gave her what she was coming to recognize as his Look.
"Honest, babe. I like your taste. Never liked anyone else's. Please."
"I can attach a chain to the clamps, honey, and do a little pulling of my own."
Shit. He just couldn't let anything go. Something for reflection later, but in the meantime Kennedy wanted to talk him out of the chain. She was used to the clamps now but knew that would change if he upped the ante, so she kept silent.
Graham carefully inserted the tip of one finger between her still tender labia and unerringly found her clit. He traced light circles on it, and she moaned. Her orgasm began to build. The plug felt huge all of a sudden, and her nipples sang. Maybe one more and she could rest, unless Graham needed another release. He was going to pleasure her to death. This time her climax crept up on her like little cat feet, and she shuddered, only to scream and go over again when he popped the clamps free. The restraints held her when she sagged, and then Graham was there to hold her and release her. He carried her to the bed and pressed gentle kisses on her sore nipples.
"You are beautiful in your submission, Kennedy."
Kennedy heard the words, but they didn't really register. Submission? Her? Graham must know he had it wrong. He had restrained her and made her talk. That wasn't submission. They were going to have another chat tomorrow. Kennedy didn't submit, and if Graham thought he was training her, he had another thought coming. But for now she felt boneless and totally relaxed.
Graham held her close and admired how her hair flowed to cover her shoulders and breasts. He was hard again, had been since her spanking, but she was sore and he had pushed her tonight. There was always tomorrow, and the day after. He couldn't imagine a life without her, and he was going to introduce her to every little kink he could. He didn't need it all the time, but there would be things she liked, and once he learned everything she needed, their sexual life would be complete. He only hoped she wouldn't want another man to join them because he didn't think he could handle that. Maybe he should rethink this whole idea about easing her into the lifestyle. Kennedy wouldn't look amiss with a whip in her hand. She was such a contrast. All the same, she really liked sex and trusted him. That was the most important thing for him. On that thought, he drifted off, resolutely not considering that he hadn't given himself the opportunity of trusting her with his whole self.
Chapter Eight
Kennedy was clearly giving Patrick's job offer some serious consideration, and Graham watched her in anticipation. Having Kennedy in the same building as he lived in twenty-four-seven had such an appeal. He didn't need any space from her. He wanted her around all the time, and while waiting to be with her sexually built his need, being able to turn to her at virtually every free moment seemed absolutely perfect to him. Plus, the club had everything he needed for his kink and control needs.
After she chewed and swallowed the last piece of crisp bacon she had filched from Graham's plate, Kennedy said, "How about a three-month trial period, Patrick?"
Patrick nodded. "That would make sense, Kennedy. I appreciate that you working here, living here, and having a, well, a relationship with Graham, all under one roof might be somewhat overwhelming."
"I'm counting on having one of your private rooms as a refuge from time to time, Patrick," she said ruefully.
"Hey!" Graham was offended.
"Babe, this is going to take some adjusting on everyone's part, and my work is just as important to me as yours is to you," she advised.
Graham hardly heard the words. It felt like Christmas. At least the kind of Christmas he had experienced since connecting with Patrick and his own kind.
"I need to make arrangements for my place, let my other job prospects know, the usual," Kennedy continued. "How about two weeks from now?"
Graham took her on a tour. Kennedy was amazed at the size of the place. Patrick had his own sumptuous quarters on the top floor while Graham and Jordan had large suites on the next floor down. There was an empty suite, and Graham told her they would eventually recruit another house Dom. Patrick's office and meeting rooms took up yet another floor and also featured a large commercial kitchen with a chef and wait staff and an adjoining atrium. Graham explained that the atrium was the usual place to eat, but there was room in each suite to dine as well as a small kitchenette. The fourth floor gave way to storage. All sorts of strange furniture was placed around the rooms, and Kennedy recognized some from her recent perusal of BDSM websites.
"We keep current furniture, tools, and toys, honey," Graham explained, "But we store the rest. There isn't a big market for used BDSM stuff, and we sometimes bring it back down. The new things are often fads. Nothing like the old tried and true." He leered at her when he said that, and Kennedy's pussy moistened.
The next floor held some private rooms and suites that out-of-town members rented when visiting, and they were fully equipped for play and rest. Kennedy mentally chose one as her sanctuary for when Graham made her too crazy. She had already seen the clubrooms, the dance floor, and the bar, the private playrooms and public ones. The dungeon was in the basement as was fitting, and she hated it. It was clean and well done, but it was dark and menacing. Only certain members had the code to the dungeon, and Graham explained that hard-core BDSM was allowed only on certain occasions when he or Patrick were available for monitoring and extra security provided. Collaring ceremonies were held there, and sometimes branding took place. Graham confirmed that piercing and tattooing were also services that were provided. Kennedy made it clear to Graham that she would never attend anything in the dungeon, and he didn't argue.
"Do you like working there, Graham?" she asked.
He shrugged. "If Patrick can't, I fill in. I'm not into breaking skin and making people bleed, honey. Patrick brings in Doms who are into that and are good at it."
Kennedy shivered, and he hugged her. "I won't work the dungeon anymore, honey. Promise."
Graham took her to the atrium for coffee, and she felt his arousal. It had waned in the dungeon, and she was glad of that. Her own had disappeared, but she knew Graham was now thinking about her ass. She was, too, to be honest, the butt plug having been removed in the shower that morning under Graham's interested care after some water sports because her labia were healed. He had then suggested an anal douche with such a hopeful look that Kennedy acquiesced. Alone. With the door locked. Who knew with these pervs? Now she was antsy and full of anticipation, and Graham probably sensed it just like she was attuned to him.
"Honey, we need a nap," he suggested.
"My place?" she asked, hopefully.
"How about if we christen my, our quarters?" he asked.
"I guess," she agreed. She wanted to try this, but still...
Graham didn't leave her time to think on it. He hustled her to his suite and had them both out of their clothes in record time.
"On the bed, sideways, Kennedy, with a pillow under your belly," he ordered as he disappeared into the bathroom, his cock straining at his own belly.
Graham returned to the bedroom and simply stopped. His woman was spread over a pillow, her bottom in the air, her legs apart. Her glorious hair flowed around her shoulders and spilled onto the white sheets. She looked beautiful and incredibly sexy. He ached to ream her and dug deep for utter control. He had to make this the very best experience if he wanted to fuck her ass in the future. And he most certainly did.
He stroked Kennedy's back from her shoulders to her thighs, loving her tiny shudders, until she relaxed. Then he spread the lube over her anus, carefully pushing the nozzle inside to fill her up. She opened to his finger, and he began to stretch her, first with one, then two fingers, opening her. The plug had done the job, for she wasn't tensing at all.
"Honey, relax, push back and outward," he told her.
"Yeah, yeah, I remember. C'mon, Graham, I'm done with this waiting."
Graham's eyebrows arched into his hair. All right then. He fitted his cock to her rosebud and pushed without pause. He slid right past the muscle and in deep, the lube smoothing the way. She felt so hot and tight. She lay placid and relaxed under him, and he enjoyed the moment. Most women would be fighting it, bucking, and it took away from the sensation. Kennedy was a gem. Then she clenched, and he nearly winced at the pressure.
"Graham, you have the cock, remember?" Kennedy's voice was strained and impatient.
Graham pulled back and nearly out of her body then surged back in, over and over. Kennedy arched back into him and moaned and whimpered into the bedding, her fists clenching. Graham went for broke. He pulled all the way out and shoved back inside several times, then waited for her opening to nearly close before doing it again. Kennedy was screaming by then and rocking against the pillow. He surged deep, his balls slamming against her labia. He forced a hand between them. Kennedy's hand was already there, and they dueled for contact with her clit. Graham shoved a finger up her when she won the contest and bellowed his own release as she went over, her muscles squeezing the life out of him. Holy fuck. He couldn't breathe, and his temples had probably burst.
Graham slid beside her, their combined sweat making little slurpy sounds as his skin parted from hers. She lay there, splayed, sucking in air. After a time, Graham pushed himself up and staggered to the bathroom to clean up. Kennedy was fast asleep when he got back, but he washed her, too, and pressed a kiss to the small of her back. He worked her little frame up farther and climbed in beside her, wrapping an arm around her sweaty belly, simply enjoying his good fortune. He loved this little woman. His little woman. She was the whole package.
The next several months were a learning experience for everyone. Patrick found it difficult to relinquish any part of the business at first, despite wanting to have more time alone with Madison. He and Kennedy squared off on many occasions until she earned his trust. Then, perhaps with the relief of knowing things were getting done properly and on time with only his minimal direction and attention to those matters requiring it, Patrick backed off.
Kennedy was amazed at the number of holdings Patrick had, and arranging more efficient records streamlined his business. She privately wondered if Graham knew how successful and wealthy Patrick was but kept Patrick's business confidential from everyone, including Madi. She and Madi saw one another mostly in the morning when Graham and Patrick were sleeping after working all night, and she relished the personal time with her friend. Alberta had moved in with her "switch" and seemed oblivious to any of the other people in her world. Madi was hurt by Ally's abandonment, but Kennedy was far more understanding and less impacted. Ally would be back once the novelty wore off, and Madi would forget how hurt she had been until Alberta pulled the same shit the next time. Although, Patrick might have something to say about that friendship. Kennedy wouldn't allow anyone to control her life the way Patrick did Madi's, but Madison had never appeared so content and happy. She actually gained a few pounds and, while she still looked tremendous, no longer had that frenetic manner about her. Madi was in love, was well loved and cherished. Kennedy ignored her own envy. She had fallen in love with Graham, probably the day he tended to her sunburn and sore feet. She would never have given up her apartment, sold off the few things she had kept from her childhood because they wouldn't fit in the living quarters at the club, and cancelled her job interviews and refused the offer she had received from the oil company, unless she was willing to take a chance on a long-term relationship with Graham. Because she loved him. She liked the sex and some of the kink, but it was the whole man who drew her. He seemed to be just who he appeared to be, a take me as you find me kind of guy, and honest, caring, and fair. Kennedy had figured out that Graham lived for the present and the future. She loved him without reserve and trusted him wholeheartedly.
They fought from time to time, and she was aware that the whole club knew about their disagreements. The odd time it was because Graham pushed her too hard and wouldn't listen until she tuned him in, but mostly it was about his tendency to meddle in her life and choices. He didn't tell her what to wear. The club had a dress code, so she really only needed a couple of casual changes and a nice evening outfit for those occasions when they had time off together. He didn't tell her how to invest or save her money. He didn't tell her how to wear her hair or what makeup to use. It was more his assumption that he always knew what was best for her. If Kennedy was totally honest with herself all the time, she would likely concur with Graham. He always had her best interest at heart. It was just his highhanded Dom attitude that accompanied his meddling. But they argued, then they worked it out and were happy together. If Kennedy wanted more from the relationship, she closed her mind to it. Graham would tell her he loved her if and when he meant it. She wouldn't be the first woman in history to be patient and wait for her man to tumble to that fact. Kennedy had always taken risks, and while she knew that being rejected by Graham would devastate her, she was willing to take the chance that he would never do so.
Graham tended to paddle her ass when she didn't speak up, when she didn't ask for what she needed, when she retreated from him in anger or with hurt feelings. It felt strange to be forced to communicate because of a spanking, but the makeup sex was even better. He kept trying to introduce her to the lifestyle in tiny increments, and Kennedy sometimes went along, although her rules were hard and fast. No cameras, no observers. Sex, even kinky sex, with Graham was personal and intimate. He never challenged her rules until one evening a few months after she had moved in. Graham convinced her to allow him to put her on the St. Andrew's cross.
Kennedy had had a long, tiring day sorting out some issues with one of Patrick's side businesses. She personally didn't think the IT company was worth the time and effort. Techs were a bunch of prima donnas by the very dint of their profession. They didn't take direction well, mostly because they didn't listen, being too focused on their technology. Patrick expected the staff to fall in line, and it was like a thorn in his side. Kennedy had finally worked out a compromise but knew it would be an uneasy truce. She had joined Graham for a quiet dinner in the club atrium, and he decided she should relax. Kennedy knew what that meant to Graham. She would have preferred a long soak in the hot tub, followed by a massage and maybe some vanilla sex. But not Graham. She was too tired to think up convincing excuses, and the next thing she knew she was naked and bound to the cross. She had resisted it so far, although had made the acquaintance of the spanking bench and the stocks. She didn't really like the paddle, although the soft flogger touched her somehow.
"If you hurt me, Graham, I'll wait until you are dead asleep and you won't like what you'll wake up to," she threatened.
Graham laughed. He was wearing his leathers and nothing else, as he circled her and examined her naked form.
"Threats from a woman hanging, restrained on the cross, honey. Tsk, tsk." He chortled.
Kennedy watched as he took a huge dildo from the wall cabinet. Oh boy. That was going to stretch her a little. He lubed it and filled her. Kennedy gasped and took some time to adjust, while Graham played with her breasts. She had just settled when he showed her the nipple clamps.
"Babe, not those, not now, please," she nearly whined.
She had a log up her pussy, and he was going to flog her next. Enough. Graham suckled her until her nipples were elongated enough to take the clover clamps. Kennedy hissed at the pain, arching and trying to dislodge him. He gently licked the tips, and the pain diminished and a warm flush replaced it, spreading down over her belly to her sex. Kennedy waited for the blindfold, but Graham must have thought the sensations were enough for her to experience without it. He stepped behind her, and she heard the whistle of the single tail. Holy shit. He was going to lash her. Not whip her with those nice, supple leather tails of the flogger.
"Graham!" she screamed. "Not..."
The first lash hit her shoulder, and a fine line of warmth and sting lanced across it. The second followed before she could take another breath to demand that he stop. The third, fourth, and fifth were laid in increments down her back to her buttocks, and by then Kennedy wasn't counting anymore, just feeling. Her vagina, stretched as it was, clenched hard on the rubber toy, and her nipples pulsed. She felt alive and rejuvenated and wondered at it. Her plan to fix Graham's wagon later might have contributed, but when he began to lay stripes across her buttocks, Kennedy found herself going someplace else. Intellectually, she knew it was endorphins creating the high and, for a moment, panicked. She was afraid of dissociating. But that was when she was alone. Graham was here with her. She would be okay. So she gave over to the moment. When he came around to lash her breasts and belly, Kennedy was moaning for the touch, nearly begging. She wanted to come, to experience it all, and vaguely heard Graham promising her soon.
She felt the presence of someone else in the room, and her eyes flew open. Graham was striping her back and buttocks again, more fiercely, and her concentration was slipping as she arched and begged. Patrick was there, in front of her, his eyes hot and admiring. Kennedy wanted to tell him to get out, to leave, that she was naked for God's sake, but he reached to her sex and held the vibe in his hand to her clit while Graham laid a final hard lash across her thighs. Kennedy shattered into a million pieces and seconds later went over again when Patrick released the clamps as Graham wrapped his arms around her waist to support her.
When Kennedy next opened her eyes, she was cuddled on Graham's lap. He was kissing her hair and murmuring nonsense. She was exhausted if relaxed, although her nipples were sore and her skin tingled and felt tight. Graham lifted her and strode to their quarters. Kennedy just knew the security guard was getting an eyeful and that they probably passed clients in the hallway, but she didn't care at that moment. Graham set her on the bed on her side and left for a moment to return with a cool, soothing lotion that he smoothed over her breasts and belly. He then addressed the skin on her back, buttocks, and thighs.
"I wish you could see your skin, Kennedy," he murmured. "You mark beautifully. So pink. But don't worry, honey, there won't be anything there in the morning, aside from a little tenderness."
Kennedy didn't answer him. She had to face Patrick in the morning. Graham she would deal with. When she had some strength. Patrick was a different matter, being her boss and all. But he wasn't getting away with this scot-free. She didn't care if it was his business, his profession. She was his PA, and his PA's nipples and clit were none of his business. Jesus.
Patrick acted like nothing had changed when she saw him at breakfast the next day. She knew he hadn't said anything to Madi because she could read Madi like an open book. Small mercies. Kennedy waited for hours until she had a moment alone with Patrick.
"Patrick, I need to speak to you," she began.
"Kennedy?" he answered. "It will never happen again unless you wish it. And if you are honest, it was amazing. You are absolutely beautiful in submission, my dear, and Graham is a lucky man."
Kennedy was bereft of speech for the first time in her life. She wanted to smack her boss, hard. Sure, the experience had been amazing. But he was her boss, and he had seen her, not just naked, but naked and bound, being whipped. And he had brought her off, twice.
"It's what I do, Kennedy," Patrick reminded her, obviously reading her thoughts. "No need to thank me."
Kennedy nearly launched herself at him and then burst into laughter. Who would ever have thought that she would be working in a sex club and enjoying the benefits?
"Thanks for the one-time-only deal," she managed.
Patrick raised an eyebrow and smiled. Bastard. She stormed out of his office and sulked in hers for the afternoon.
Graham, on the other hand, was fighting prickles of anxiety and anticipation. His little woman hadn't mentioned her evening on the cross or Patrick's involvement. It had bothered Graham to have Patrick touch Kennedy, even with a vibe, and even to just release the clamps. Having Patrick see her in her amazing submission was a different story. Sharing that experience meant everything to Graham. It made it forever, having a witness. But he didn't want anyone else to touch her. She belonged to him. Patrick had reluctantly agreed to help and allowed that he might ask Graham to assist with Madi on occasion, but both men had a silent agreement about the touching. There was no need for words. But Kennedy wouldn't talk about it with him, and he knew she was either sublimating or plotting revenge. He didn't like either idea. He hadn't even had his own release that night with his woman, although he had taken care of himself in the shower. Surely that was worth a few brownie points.
His apprehension grew a bit with each day that passed. After one pouty day, Kennedy and Patrick had resumed working together comfortably. Kennedy didn't resist Graham's sexual overtures, although he resisted the kink, except for asserting his control. He began to think that she had let it go. At least he tried to convince himself of that. He worked ten nights straight in order to cover for Jordan while the man went to visit his sick mother. Patrick took the subs, and Graham picked up everything else. He nearly fell into bed on day eleven and only managed to pat Kennedy's ass. The sex had been almost perfunctory the previous mornings, but Graham needed his woman, and she had welcomed him, even if it meant waking her earlier than she preferred. Kennedy had somehow moved past her crankiness in the mornings, and Graham suspected she had adjusted for him.
Graham came up from a deep sleep slowly, like rising through layers of dark silk. He felt relaxed and the bone-deep exhaustion seemed gone. The room was darkened, and the sheets were cool against his skin, although he felt the need for one to cover him. He reached for it and came up short. Son of a bitch. She had shackled him to the bed. He was so going to tan her ass when she let him go. She wouldn't sit for a week, and he'd have her kneeling for him every fucking morning with no release for her. Shit!
"Morning, babe," Kennedy drawled. "Sleep well?"
"Release me, wench." Graham growled as his eyes adjusted to the dimness.
Kennedy stood from her seat at the end of the bed and crossed the room to flick on a light. Holy shit. She was naked except for a tiny G-string and silver pasties. A jewel winked in her navel and at either ear. Her hair was swept up on top of her head with a few tendrils tickling her shoulders. She had lined her eyes with dark kohl, and her lips were scarlet. Graham's cock jumped to attention. Maybe he wouldn't spank her. He'd just fuck her senseless instead. He watched her approach the bed. She seemed really tall, and when she rested a foot beside him he realized why. Kennedy was wearing six-inch stilettos. She was his wet dream personified.
"I don't think so, babe," she said sweetly and licked her scarlet mouth. "I thought we'd make sure you are stress free for the day. You are always such a big help to me when I'm tired and stressed."
Graham stifled a groan. "You won't like your punishment, Kennedy," he threatened.
"And you won't sleep well for the rest of your life, babe, wondering what I'll have planned for you next."
This was insane. He was the Dom. He held eighty-five percent of the power in this room. No way was this a fifteen percent opportunity for Kennedy.
"Let me go, Kennedy," he tried again, staring her down while trying not to look right up her sex. He could smell her arousal.
"I wonder if Madi is free today?" Kennedy suggested.
"Kennedy." Graham wanted to sink right through the mattress and into the floor. She wouldn't. "Honey, I know this is about including Patrick."
"No, Graham, this is about breaking one of my only two rules! He's my freaking boss! If I find out you broke my other rule, then both Madi and Ally will be joining us the next time."
"No, sweetheart, there was no camera. I promise. I couldn't do everything you needed that night. I had to ask Patrick. I trust him. He might need me to help with Madi sometime." Graham immediately wished to rewind that statement.
Kennedy went nose to nose with him. "If you touch Madi, I will make your life a living hell. Do you understand me, mister?"
"Okay, Kennedy. He'll have to ask Jordan."
Kennedy paced the room for a few minutes, visibly calming herself. Graham felt like he was at the mercy of a crazy woman, but a really hot, sexy, crazy woman. His cock certainly thought so. This was way past morning wood.
Kennedy flicked on another light and carried a few items to the bed. Graham strained to see what they were, but she put them down between his spread legs.
"Kennedy?"
"No more talking, Graham, just doing." With that she crawled on top of him, and kissed him with considerable passion. Graham longed to crush her to him, and the shackles rattled when he reached for her. She tore her lips away and began to lick and kiss across his chest, pausing at his nipples. She toyed with the flat circles and looked up at him.
"Are there nipple clamps for men, babe?" she asked.
Graham simply lied to her. "Nope."
"Well, maybe we could try mine."
Shit, he needed to think fast. "Not very hygienic, honey. And those are yours. I bought them for you special."
Kennedy shrugged and went back to licking and kissing him. The little pieces of hair that trailed from her head tickled and aroused his skin, and the feel of the pasties was indescribable. His abs clenched in anticipation as she moved lower, now trailing the tip of her tongue over each delineated muscle. Graham was proud that he worked out and took care of his body. Kennedy appreciated how he looked. He figured she was going to tease him to death, maybe get him to the edge and then deny him. Graham had been trained in that technique by the best, even if cock rings weren't his favorite. Kennedy was the only woman who had taken his control since, but he thought he could cope with this session. And then she would please him all day long, whenever and however he liked. Probably in the punishment room.
Kennedy stopped just short of touching his cock. She reversed her position so he could look at the globes of her ass separated by the string and the pouch of her sex, confined in the G-string. It made him hotter. And when her breasts bounced on either side of his cock, Graham had to work really hard to hold back a moan. She laved his thighs, all the while stroking him with her breasts. Maybe being shackled wasn't the worst thing after all. He could come just from the feel of her breasts. Kennedy then pressed a kiss right in the middle of his sack and darted her tongue out, then pulled away. Graham heard himself moan. She was going to break him. Damn it.
He watched her slip to the floor and pull her shoes off. The pasties were next, and when her reddened nipples came into view, his lips involuntarily opened to taste them. Kennedy giggled and tapped them both. She shimmied out of the G-string and dropped it to the floor. Graham knew the main event was up next. Kennedy moved between his spread legs and began to stroke him, using long, firm tugs, using his pre-cum to lubricate her hand. Her hands were tiny, and while Graham could take or leave hand jobs, he was fascinated by how she couldn't span his shaft. He felt supremely male. When her mouth descended and she sucked him inside on a whisper, his hips followed. She closed her teeth in warning, and Graham dropped back to the mattress and resigned himself to her pace. She nibbled and licked and sucked until he thought he would go crazy with wanting to push himself deep. It felt really good, but he wanted to come down her throat and soon.
"Kennedy," he ground out. "Finish me."
She looked up at him, her lips swollen and red, saliva glistening on her mouth, cheeks, and chin. "In good time, Graham."
He'd use the paddle instead of his hand. And spank her pussy, too. He'd use the clover clamps and maybe the new beaded dildo while he fucked her ass. His thoughts didn't distract him from what she was doing to his cock. He was dying here. Didn't she know that? It was time.
Kennedy sucked him deep and swallowed. Graham felt his orgasm start in his toes and rush up over him like a tidal wave. He felt something back between his legs, at his anus, and then a greased finger pushed inside. He tensed, trying to hold off his climax, but that diabolical finger pressed his prostate, and Graham poured himself in unending spurts down Kennedy's throat. She finally let him slip from her mouth with an audible popping sound and sat back on her haunches to wipe her lips with the back of her hand. Her other hand slipped between her legs and Graham numbly watched as she pulled herself to orgasm in a few rubs. She shuddered and clenched down on her little hand, then opened passion-dulled eyes to simply look at him. Graham saw his future there and knew he had to find a way to let her inside.
"Even Steven?"
Graham struggled to gather his thoughts. "What?"
"Are we even?" Kennedy asked.
"Well," he hedged.
"I can go again, Graham, if you like," she suggested.
"No, that's okay for now," Graham answered quickly this time. "Will you release me?"
Kennedy hopped up and her nimble fingers popped the four sets of cuffs. She rubbed at the red marks on his flesh and looked at him apologetically.
"S'okay, honey. You know those go away in a little while."
Graham cuddled with her for a few minutes until his strength returned. That had been one for the record books.
"What was with that little move at the end?" he asked against Kennedy's neck.
"You told me you had experience with plugs, babe, and I read things, too, about prostates. So..."
Graham smiled into her neck. His little woman had a dirty streak. Well, good for her. He had really liked it. His cock was a brilliant shade of red in places from her lipstick, and he hoped it would wash off.
Kennedy still worked different hours than Graham, although her day usually didn't start until the afternoon. She and Patrick would confer, and then she would take care of his regular business, saving his other, less conventional business dealings until the evening when those people were working, too. It meant that she rarely saw Graham except for brunch and dinner and on his evenings off, which were scheduled to correspond with hers. It made their time off together even more intense. The outside world rarely intruded unless she went shopping with Madi, and even then it left her cold and disinterested. Graham was her life. Madi, as her best friend, lived one floor above her, and her boss was fair and generous. The other staff got along and there was no infighting. Any issues with the members could be managed and dealt with. Kennedy needed nothing else. Surely Graham knew she was there for him if he needed her support. Surely he trusted her and maybe loved her, too. He seemed capable of it.
Chapter Nine
Graham stared at the blonde kneeling in the centre of the discipline room. Her eyes were downcast as per protocol, but he knew she had seen him and was waiting for him to respond. He glared at Jordan, but the other Dom shrugged.
"Jennifer," he nearly snarled. "Why are you here?"
Jennifer lifted limpid blue eyes to search his face. "I have a membership, Master," she said breathily, "and seeing as I am back in the city, I require the services of the club."
"Then Jordan will meet those needs," Graham advised her.
"But I specifically requested you," Jennifer begged prettily.
Graham wondered what he had ever seen in Jennifer. She was the epitome of every man's dream, tall and slender, long blonde hair, huge blue eyes, fair skin that welcomed the lash or the paddle. Her breasts were high and, although enhanced by a surgeon, were very responsive. She loved double penetration on every occasion possible, and she preferred Patrick in her pussy and him up her ass. She could deliver a blow job that made a man see stars, and she could manage a third man at that orifice if he had demanded it. And she left him cold. He knew her spirit was mean, and she was shallow and self-centered. She took and took and never gave back, although the sex and submission blinded a man.
Graham shook his head and motioned to Jordan, then left the room. He didn't miss the narrowing of Jennifer's eyes and the way her mouth flattened. Jennifer wasn't going to let this go, and he cursed himself for not telling Kennedy about her. Jennifer had worn his collar, and he had actually considered marrying her just to keep her for himself. But that had been out of sexual greed. Jennifer had found out about his history somehow and about his trust fund. Jennifer had contacted his parents to ask them to fly out and meet her, assuring them that she felt the need to do so as his fiancée in order to heal the breach between them and their son. His parents had jumped at the chance to pull him back into the fold and push him into assuming what they considered to be his rightful place in the family business. Graham then realized that Jennifer had set her sights on him because of the money he and his family had. The reunion had not gone well. His parents had left in disappointment and rage, and Jennifer had realized a cushy future was no longer in the cards. She left the city shortly thereafter on the arm of a wealthy, visiting Dom. Graham had heard that he had since died and Jennifer was now a wealthy widow. He didn't know why she was back and asking for him, but it was not going to happen. He had a woman and needed no other. Besides, Kennedy would hurt him.
Kennedy watched Graham shake his head and leave the blonde on the floor to Jordan. There was no audio, but she didn't need sound to know that there had been something big between those two. Kennedy never looked at the security feeds since that night when she had observed Graham, but she had tracked Patrick down in the booth that evening for a discussion about a document that required his signature. When Graham had entered the discipline room, he had instantly caught her eye. Patrick said nothing to her. Kennedy arched a brow at him, and he shrugged. That was such an annoying fucking gesture. Cowardly, too.
"Who is she?" she asked.
"I can't divulge that, Kennedy," Patrick answered almost apologetically.
"Doesn't matter," she said. "Graham's going to get a chance at practicing that communication he's always going on about when he's beating my ass. And if he's lucky, I won't smack him first."
Patrick watched his PA stomp from the security booth. He managed not to smile and let the guard in on his amusement. He had a role to play here, after all. He had come to really care for Kennedy and thought she would have made a terrific sister. Graham was an amazing friend and a good man, but he had, well, blossomed wasn't exactly a word to use about Graham, but he had grown somehow since getting it on with Kennedy. She was good for him. His pain about his family didn't weigh on him like it used to. Patrick assumed Graham had told Kennedy about his past. Kennedy simply accepted him for whom he was and challenged him to do better when it was appropriate. And Kennedy had blossomed, too. She would never be a sub in the true sense of the word, not like his Madi, but Graham had enhanced every bit of sexuality Kennedy possessed. Graham no longer sported bruises either. Love was grand.
Graham felt her before he saw her. Kennedy was coming down the hallway, and the hot vibes that preceded her made his senses tingle. This wasn't about their passion though. He somehow knew that Kennedy had found out about Jennifer. Shit. Nothing to worry about, Graham. You are the dominant in this relationship.
"Graham," a soft, sweet voice said.
Graham whirled. He had been so intent on the approach of his woman that he hadn't heard Jennifer come up behind him. She was still naked, and as he turned, she sank to her knees with that graceful move she had perfected, laying her head on his right foot. He made to move back, but she surprisingly wrapped her hands around his ankle and held on. Graham had a choice to kick her free or try and unlock her fingers. He chose the latter and quickly bent over to do so. She surged up to try and kiss him, her nipples stabbing, her hands now seeking to push through his hair. It was like being attacked by a cobweb.
"Back off."
Graham awkwardly straightened, and Jennifer reluctantly let go of his hair. She, too, rose to her feet, totally comfortable in her own skin, fully aware of how perfect her form and face was.
"Excuse me?" Jennifer arched a perfectly plucked brow and directed a disdainful stare toward Kennedy.
Graham felt frozen in place at the look on Kennedy's face and in her eyes.
"Back off. You are breaking protocol," she stated flatly, never taking her eyes from Jennifer's.
"And you are?" came Jennifer's haughty response, although a slight note of uncertainty colored it.
Kennedy ignored Jennifer's request for an introduction. "Subs don't throw themselves at house Doms. Your behavior is grounds for a suspension of your membership."
Jennifer flushed. "I apologize. Graham and I..."
Kennedy cut her off. "I don't need to hear your excuses. Go back to Master Jordan or leave. Your choice."
Jennifer was red with fury but nodded brusquely. She turned and rushed to the dressing area.
"Honey," Graham began.
"Not now, Graham," Kennedy replied. "I need to make sure your little bunny gets gone."
Graham watched his woman stride away. Fuck, this so wasn't going to be fun later. He should be furious with her. It was his role to deal with Jennifer. He was the Dom. He felt like he had been overlooked in the strange little event that had played out and had been talked about like he wasn't there. Much like he and other Doms discussed a sub in front of him or her. It put a person in their place, established the power ratio, and was really kind of hot. Was he a fucking switch? Nope, just in awe of Kennedy. He could have dealt with Jennifer, but it would have gotten ugly and uncomfortable because she wasn't going to let him push her away without a fight. Kennedy had known just what to do, if stepping out of her PA role somewhat. But not really. He did wish, though, that she had told Jennifer that she was his, that Kennedy belonged to him. But Kennedy wouldn't dignify Jennifer with any response. Good for her. Not so good for him later. He sighed and went to the cross room where Clark and Jeanette awaited. Jeanette wanted to move up to the double tail tonight, and Clark was a bit of a pain slut, so he would really need to focus.
Jennifer pulled her clothes on angrily, ignoring Kennedy, who stood inside the door of the dressing area, staring just over her head. Kennedy knew she had a great poker face, but she was seething inside. There was no way blondie was going to see her emotional upheaval. Kennedy knew people like blondie. They were like leeches, only with teeth, who wanted what they wanted and didn't give a shit about anyone other than themselves. If anyone gave them a hint of something, they took advantage, and they ran with it. Kennedy wanted this woman gone so that she could unwind and be ready for Graham later tonight. He has some 'splaining to do, she thought.
Jennifer pushed past her and headed for the main door of the club. "I'll be talking with Patrick. Believe it," she snarled. "I don't know who you are, but you'll be in shit."
Kennedy said quietly, "I'm Kennedy Johnson. Patrick's PA."
Jennifer's mouth opened and closed, but she didn't respond. The doorman opened up, and Jennifer shook her head to his offer of having her car brought around. Kennedy waited until the door shut behind her, then went back to her office. Blondie was competition. Well, bring it on. Kennedy wasn't going to let Graham go unless he wanted out, and he would have to be pretty convincing.
Graham eased into their quarters just as dawn broke. He had worked hard all night and keeping focused had exhausted him. He wanted to talk with Kennedy, but she hadn't sought him out, probably because she knew how busy the three Doms were. Kennedy took her duties seriously, and he appreciated that while there would never be a good time or place for the conversation they needed to have, messing up the night's scenes would have created chaos. He showered quickly and toweled off, then he slipped into bed beside Kennedy. He never brought another woman's scent to their bed. A dim light was burning in the corner. Kennedy sometimes had nightmares even now, and she didn't turn it out until he joined her.
"Honey?" he asked softly, pressing a kiss on her forehead.
"How tired are you, Graham?" she asked quietly.
"I'm beat, but I know we need to talk," he responded.
"I'm a little pissed, Graham, no, make that hurt," Kennedy replied.
Graham winced. That was his girl. No pretense, tell it like it is, Kennedy.
"Do you want me to tell you now, honey, or wait until we wake up?"
"You're off tomorrow night," Kennedy stated. When he stiffened, she added, "I rearranged the shifts, Graham, with Patrick's consent. I knew you would be tired, and I've had time to settle down. I don't want to fight with you, babe, so let's get some rest, and we'll take this up later and for however long it takes."
Kennedy rolled over and gave him her back. Graham cursed his reticence to tell her earlier about Jennifer. Stupid move on his part. Now there would be a full explanation and a visit to the past he would prefer not to make. But he knew that Kennedy would expect full disclosure, and if he didn't come across, it would hurt their relationship. It might anyhow. Graham reached around her waist and snuggled her close, relieved when she didn't stiffen or protest. He should know better than to think she would react like most women would have, in his experience. All the same, most women could have been put in their place and would back off. Graham wondered how much sleep he would get now, with tomorrow looming before him. Kennedy was already making those cute little huffing sounds that signified she was deep in dreamland. He sighed and resolutely closed his eyes and waited for her to wake.
"Graham."
Graham rolled his eyelids up a fraction and flinched at the bright sunlight flooding the room. God, he had slept after all. But what the hell time was it?
"C'mon, Graham, get up," Kennedy insisted. "Blondie is in Patrick's office and insists on seeing you. She has some sort of court document, and Patrick thinks you had better get up there." Her voice was controlled, but he heard an inflection of considerable anxiety.
Graham rolled to his feet and sat right back down. He had had maybe two hours of rest, and those had been full of strange dreams. He felt disoriented and hardly ready to face Jennifer. He didn't know what the hell was going on but was pretty concerned, although he worked hard at not letting it show.
"I've put some clothes out for you, Graham, so haul ass and make yourself presentable." With that, Kennedy left the room.
When Graham got to Patrick's office, Kennedy was already there, gathering up various files and generally looking her usual professional self. She wore the club uniform of black and white, although in her case the bottom half was a slim skirt over stilettos. Jennifer was lounging on a chair in the corner, alternately smiling sweetly at Patrick and throwing nasty looks in Kennedy's direction. Shit, should he ask Kennedy and Patrick to leave? Stay? One of them to leave? Graham wasn't a coward except when it came to messy emotional scenes. His mother had cornered the market on those, and he still cringed to remember how he had felt as a child. He was hardly a kid now, but this was shaping up to be one of those moments.
"Graham," Jennifer said, softly and seductively. "I apologize for surprising you last night. I know how you hate surprises. I should have remembered. I have something important to tell you and thought I could ease into it by doing a scene with you. You know, something familiar. I missed us."
Graham felt Kennedy tense a little, but her response wouldn't be obvious to anyone but him. He had to deal with Jennifer quickly.
"There won't be any more scenes with you, Jennifer," he stated offhandedly. "If you have something to tell me, then get on with it."
Jennifer's eyes narrowed. "I'd prefer to do it in private, Gray," she pouted.
"You came to Patrick, so I assume he has no problem being here for whatever you have to say."
"And her?" Jennifer cast a dark glance at Kennedy. "Why would Patrick's PA need to be here?"
"Kennedy is mine," Graham said quietly.
Jennifer went white, and then an ugly flush crept up her neck and spread over her face. "How incestuous, Graham," she snarked. "Still sharing I see?"
Neither Patrick nor Graham responded. Graham didn't dare look in Kennedy's direction.
"Well, Graham, I had hoped to be civilized about this," Jennifer continued. "I thought we could pick up where we left off, but if you are training another sub and are so committed..."
Graham felt no need to clarify his relationship with Kennedy. He kept silent.
Jennifer tossed a sheet of paper on the desk. It was folded into threes, but the top third bore an embossed seal and his name, right under Jennifer's. Graham picked it up and unfolded it. He scanned the document and for a moment thought he might pass out as his head blanked and his body felt weak.
"I'll want a DNA test," he managed to say calmly if quietly.
Jennifer laughed harshly. "He's yours, Graham. All you have to do is look at him. If you had married me and taken me to live with your family, all of this could have been avoided."
"Leave me your number, and I'll call you to set a time to take the boy to a doctor for testing," Graham said inflexibly. "I'm not paying any child support or having any kind of involvement until I know you are telling the truth."
Jennifer threw a card onto the desk and moved toward the office door. She stopped for a moment beside Graham and lightly touched his cheek.
"Don't throw this chance away, Gray," she murmured. "We should be together."
Silence reigned in the office for some time after the door closed behind Jennifer. Patrick clearly decided to stay out of it and made his exit quickly. Graham sank into the chair Jennifer had vacated and put his head in his hands. He longed for Kennedy to rub the back of his neck, but her feet passed through his line of vision and out again. He heard the door open and looked up to watch her leave. Fuck. He needed to follow her and make this right, but somehow he couldn't get up. He was positively nauseated to think of Jennifer raising a child, especially his child. Nathan Thomas would be nineteen months old next month. That coincided with the time they had broken up. She had named him after Graham's father, and Thomas was Graham's middle name. How would he keep his parents out of it now? Jennifer would contact them next, and they would do everything in their power to take guardianship and raise the child just like they had raised Graham. Only this time they wouldn't allow a governess to suborn their parenting style. It was too much. And he had hurt Kennedy. Shit.
The door opened again, and Graham hoped Kennedy had returned. Instead, Patrick made his way behind the desk and stared at him thoughtfully.
"Kennedy is in your quarters, Graham," he offered. "She's crying. And breaking things."
Graham just shook his head. He was simply overwhelmed by the ghosts of his childhood and couldn't seem to regroup.
"Get your ass out of here and see to your woman, Graham," Patrick said with absolutely no sympathy. "Get your shit together and take care of what matters most."
Graham's temper rose. He felt like punching Patrick and then realized it was exactly what he needed and what Patrick had intended. He would deal with Kennedy first and then sort out the paternity of Nathan Thomas. Patrick would help him work things out from there. He glared at his friend then thumped him on the shoulder on his way to see Kennedy.
Graham opened the door to their quarters and witnessed his vixen in full fury. Kennedy's hair was streaming around her face as she hurled clothing into a suitcase. The air was pungent with her favorite scent, and he could see it dripping down the opposite wall, the shattered container resting at the base. Kennedy's shoulders were heaving with emotional effort, and he could hear her muttering to herself. Fuck, what had he done? Kennedy didn't run from much.
"Kennedy." Graham used his darkest Dom voice, infused with all the steel he could muster.
She whirled and faced him. Her face was tear-streaked and splotchy with rage, her eyes red and puffy. Graham's heart swelled, and he stepped forward to engulf her in his arms. He just managed to block her knee and wrapped her up tightly, hoping she wouldn't bite a piece out of his chest.
"Babe," he murmured against the top of her head. "Honey, we need to talk."
"Fuck you, Graham," she bit out. "Fuck you to hell."
"Are you going to listen?" he asked.
"I'm gone, buddy, gone," she snarled against him, rigid in his arms. "Let go of me and get out of my way."
Graham manhandled her back onto the bed and used his weight to subdue her when she began to fight in earnest. She was so silent in her rage and hurt that he worried he might never settle her enough to tell her what he should have told her months ago. He resorted to what he knew best. He decided to trade on her passion. Restraining her cost him. Kennedy nearly bit him a couple of times, and her nails did connect with his forearms and left cheek. She wasted no time on futile verbal threats but concentrated on getting away. He didn't dare let her go, fearing he would never find her again. Suddenly, she went limp. Graham was wise to her tactics and remained on guard until she was tied, spread eagle on the mattress. Her eyes were closed, and she still made no sound other than those of her previous exertion and they began to taper off. Her breasts rose and fell in concert.
Graham decided not to kiss her lips, preferring not to lose a lip to her teeth, but rather drifted his mouth over her throat, pushing fabric aside to access the tender area where her shoulder met her neck. Kennedy shuddered under his touch, and he swiftly unbuttoned the shirt, pushing it open, pulling up her bra in order to access her breasts. He laved them, taking his time, feeling her nipples bead and harden under his touch, and he felt Kennedy's heart rate spike. Graham kissed his way down her belly, flicking his tongue in and out of her navel, and rested his cheek on her abdomen. What if Kennedy had his baby inside of her? That would feel right to him. The thought of seeing her swell and round with his child filled him with a sense of exultation. Graham knelt to pull Kennedy's skirt up to her waist. The crotch of her panties was already damp with her arousal, and he inhaled the scent of her. His cock filled and lengthened even more. He pressed a kiss between her legs then pushed the material to the side and surged up over her, fitting his cock to her opening and thrusting up inside of her all at once.
Kennedy didn't open her eyes, but her face tightened and her lips parted. Graham held himself above her, fucking her with long, slow strokes, willing her to look at him, to see how much he cared about her. Had he ever told her that he loved her? He had told her how much he wanted her, needed her, wanted to own her. Kennedy took exception to being owned, but he sure wanted to claim her. Graham couldn't remember telling Kennedy that he loved her. And now was not the time to compound his stupidity. She would never believe him, seeing it as a manipulation to keep her with him. Graham suddenly lost his erection. He truly had fucked up this time. He was a poor excuse for a boyfriend, or a fiancé, or whatever he was. He sagged away from Kennedy and moved off the bed. She kept her face turned away, but there were new tears on her face now, and he felt helpless at their appearance. He carefully released her ankles and then her wrists, but she didn't stir. Graham tucked himself back into his pants and straightened himself.
"You'll stay here until I return, Kennedy." He left the room and locked her inside, taking the key with him.
Kennedy didn't feel much of anything. Graham didn't trust her. Now that Jennifer had arrived, he no longer seemed to want her sexually even with the kink, and now he had left, locking her inside their quarters at the club to await his leisure. In Patrick's office, Kennedy had watched the blood drain from Graham's face and knew intuitively that blondie was either telling him he might have contracted some deadly disease during their time together or that he had a child. Either way, this truly sucked. She didn't need to have a talk with Graham about blondie now. It was clear that they had been a serious item in the past, but there was that reference to his family that blindsided her. What family? How had Graham not trusted her enough to share that he actually had a family? He told her he had been on his own since age twenty-two. This was unconscionable. She could cope with a child in his past. That happened to lots of people, and lots of dads didn't know about their progeny at first, and sometimes, never. But Graham had a family and didn't care enough about her to include her or trust her with his past. Kennedy had kept her poker face on in front of blondie. Graham hadn't needed any distractions right then, but she felt like someone had stabbed her in the heart. She should be feeling furious and indignant and plotting revenge, but she actually felt little that she could label. Tired, maybe. Numb. She curled into a fetal position and let herself slide toward sleep. Ah, this was familiar. When she got hurt and was done fighting, she went away.
She awoke to someone patting her cheek. She pried open her eyes and saw Madi's anxious face.
"Kennedy, please, wake up," Madi kept saying, her eyes sad, her face pale.
Kennedy pushed Madi's hand away and struggled into a sitting position.
"I'm awake," she mumbled. "What do you want?"
"When you didn't come to dinner, I got worried," complained Madi. "I came down to see you when you didn't answer your phone, and the door was locked from the outside! Patrick let me in. I thought something had happened to you."
Kennedy looked at Patrick, lounging up against the far wall. He looked back at her solemnly, and her heart broke into even tinier pieces. If Patrick was concerned, then it was the worst day of her life. Whatever. She was awake now, and it was time to do something. She might want to sleep the rest of her life away, but it couldn't be here. She wearily swung her feet to the floor, then realized her state of semiundress. Patrick had seen all of her, so it hardly mattered, but she belatedly put her clothes to rights, then staggered into the bathroom. She used Graham's brush to straighten her hair and washed her face. Her mouth felt like it was full of dirt, so she squeezed some toothpaste onto her finger and scrubbed at her teeth until she could run her tongue over them without wincing. Her toothbrush must be in her suitcase already. Fuck. All she owned was in her suitcase. She hadn't needed a huge wardrobe working at the club, and now she was starting from scratch. Well, Patrick would give her a good reference, and she could probably find somewhere cheap and furnished. She had a fair amount saved, too, so she could leave the city and head somewhere else. But first she needed to rest and recover enough if she could. A hotel would fill the bill.
Madi was wrapped up in Patrick's arms when Kennedy went back into the bedroom. She was curled back into his chest, and he had dropped his head to rest his chin on her hair. Madi had been crying by the look of her, and Kennedy fought a distant flicker envy and irritation. She both wanted what Madi had, and she wished her friend would quit being so damn emotional. It would only make things harder.
"I know I should give you two weeks' notice, Patrick," she apologized, "but under the circumstances, I hope you'll understand."
Patrick nodded. "I think it would be best if you waited for Graham to get back, Kennedy. He is going to need you."
Kennedy's head felt muzzy. "Need me, Patrick? He had me, body and soul. I would have thought that was obvious. Not much more of me to give, I'm afraid."
Patrick watched as Kennedy finished filling her small suitcase. She had seemed to pack a few toiletries, and he saw a few pairs of shoes, jeans, and some shirts. He realized she had left everything behind when she came to live with Graham and become his PA. Madi had marveled at how easy Kennedy had found it to leave even her few cherished family possessions behind because they wouldn't fit here. He hoped Graham had made arrangements to store them for her. Kennedy seemed lost and empty, and it was quite worrisome.
He tried again. "Regardless of what he learns about the child, Kennedy, he is going to need support."
Kennedy zipped her case and easily swung it off the bench. She turned to face Patrick, and her face was blank, her eyes tired.
"You are his best friend, Patrick. He has you."
"But you are his woman, Kennedy," Patrick reminded her.
"So he says," she acknowledged. "But I've discovered that he doesn't trust me. He can't share with me. He gives me only the superficial and the sexual. I can get that anywhere. He chased me down because I was what he wanted at the time. And now it's over. Seems fairly simple to me."
"But you will break Graham's heart, Kennedy!" Madi sobbed.
"And my heart, Madi?" she asked softly. "Graham has been honest with me in that regard anyhow, sweetie. He never told me he loved me. He never reciprocated my love. He'll be okay. I'll call you when I get settled."
"Where are you going, Kennedy?" asked Patrick.
"Don't know. But I'll be fine. Thank you both for everything."
Kennedy wandered out to the club entrance and thanked Maurice for holding the door. She declined the offer of a cab. Her suitcase weighed next to nothing and she would walk until she became tired. Anything not to think.
Graham headed back to the club with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Nathan Thomas was indeed his son, if looks meant anything. The blood test wouldn't confirm that until at least five days from now. Nathan had been in the care of a nanny, and Jennifer clearly had no interest in him. Graham carefully concealed his own, realizing that Jennifer would use anything against him. He had learned through careful and seemingly disinterested questions that she had discovered her pregnancy shortly after marrying Layne Perry and Layne had either believed or pretended that child was his despite never managing to father any children with any of his three former wives. Jennifer had borne Nathan and promptly turned him over to the nanny. Layne had been comfortable with an heir, but his death had been premature and his will successfully challenged by his former wives. Jennifer couldn't touch Nathan's trust fund, for an old lawyer who seemed to have the child's interest at heart carefully administered it. It infuriated Jennifer, who was forced to live on what she considered to be a modest stipend that, in reality, was an amount that would carry a family of four. As Nathan grew older and looked more and more like Graham, Jennifer decided to have another try at worming her way into his family. Graham had to keep Nathan from his parents at all costs and intended to use the five days he had before the results of the DNA testing were available to his full advantage. He had no ideas, but Kennedy would have some. And with Patrick backing him, this would somehow work out. The sight of his woman trailing down the sidewalk outside of the club, pulling a little suitcase, caused him to run straight into the curb.
Graham slammed the shift into park and leapt from the vehicle. He didn't take the time to shut the door. What the fuck was she doing? He needed her help. He needed her. He was going to redden her ass before he fucked her senseless, and then she was going to help him.
Kennedy seemed unaware that a large, angry man was blocking her path. Graham recognized the look on Kennedy's face. It was one he had hoped to never see again. And right now he didn't have time for it. He frog-marched her the short block back to the club and pushed her through the door just as Maurice snatched it open.
"Bring Ms. Johnson's suitcase in, Maurice," he said. "And park my car if you would."
Not waiting for a response, Graham took Kennedy to their quarters.
"I told you to wait for me here," he stated.
"Whatever," she said and climbed onto the bed, pulling a pillow over her head. He could do what he wanted. She didn't give a shit.
"God damn it, Kennedy, I need you to help me!" he nearly shouted at her. Hell, he did shout.
Kennedy pushed the pillow away and stared at him. Graham never yelled. His voice got deeper, quieter, and infused with steel when he was challenged or she annoyed him, but he never yelled.
"Listen to me. Just listen. And if you want to leave then, you can get the hell out. But don't walk away from me until you hear what I have to say," he grated.
Kennedy pushed up against the headboard and folded her arms across her chest. Graham took a deep, steadying breath and began. He told her that he'd been born into a very wealthy family in upstate New York. His parents had wanted a son to take over the business and were determined to groom him for the position but didn't want to raise him. They had hired a governess for the job, and she had saved him. Or at least given him a different take on life that enabled him to make a choice. The family business was in arms manufacturing. Miss Trask was a pacifist.
"I hardly knew my parents, Kennedy. They traveled constantly, and my father was wrapped up in the business while my mother was a social climber. They made sure I was enrolled at the best boarding schools and any holidays home I spent with Miss Trask."
Graham explained to Kennedy that he had called Miss Trask Mother sometimes until his actual mother overheard him one day and corrected him with casual cruelty. Graham was allowed neither friends at home nor pets. He never felt like he had choices but always had to follow his parents' edicts. He couldn't challenge them, or ignore them, because they were rarely around, and when they were, his mother's scenes terrified him.
"I did as I was told because I understood from an early age that they would fire Miss Trask and hire someone more convincing."
The opportunity to pursue a business degree fit in with his parents' plans, and he chose a college as far away from them as he could manage. Then Miss Trask was let go because he no longer required a governess and she was too old to fit in and work within his parents' home.
"I had no reason to return to New York anymore for visits. It took my parents nearly a year to realize that I had estranged myself and by then I was emotionally strong enough and established enough to resist all their efforts to make me come home and work with the old man." The father who was essentially a stranger to him.
"I never touched the trust fund set up by my grandfather that became accessible when I turned twenty-one. I didn't need it. I had met Jennifer by then and it was a mailed update about that damn trust fund that alerted her to the fact that I had money. And that my family had money. Up until then I thought she was someone I wanted to be with."
Kennedy felt badly for the boy Graham had been. She understood what it was like to be neglected and lack the love and nurture of parents. She admired his ability to make it on his own, just as she had done. But why had he not told her about this until today? Had Graham thought she would be like Jennifer? That she would try to make him connect with his parents against his will so that she could have access to his money? Before she could question him, he continued. Kennedy felt her temper begin to surge again and welcomed the way it pushed her despair aside.
When Graham told her about his son, or at least the child he believed was his son, and Jennifer's treatment of the child, Kennedy felt ill. Another child caught in the same cycle. It shouldn't happen, but how to prevent it? Kennedy thought she might have some ideas along that line but needed to straighten a few things out with Graham first. She watched him sag onto the bench at the foot of the bed. She pushed away her sympathy and pushed him instead.
"I'll try to help you, but for Nathan's sake, Graham," she said. "You and I are done. I'm not Jennifer, and you should be ashamed of yourself to even go there."
Graham looked at her and said, "I didn't think you were, honey. I don't know why I couldn't tell you about my family, but it wasn't because I thought you would pull what that bitch did."
"Well, when you have a moment, you might give your reasoning some thought, Graham, because it's cost me big time. And I'm not giving you another chance to pull my heart out of my chest."
"I love you, Kennedy," he nearly whispered, desperate now.
"I told you I'd help you, Graham. No need to try and sweeten the pot. I'll find Patrick, and we'll see if there is something to be done for Nathan. You had better sleep. You look like shit."
Graham watched Kennedy leave and shut the door firmly behind her. He didn't know how he could sleep but knew good advice when he heard it. He showered and popped some painkillers before getting into their bed. The linens smelled like Kennedy, and he allowed her scent to lull his senses.
Tomorrow would be hell.
Chapter Ten
Like with Santa's elves, or maybe the tooth fairy, magic was happening while Graham slept.
Patrick called a prominent family lawyer and arranged an appointment within two hours for Kennedy, at her request. He then agreed to hire a private detective to investigate Jennifer and the nanny when Kennedy suggested it, and he indicated that he knew the perfect firm for the job. He promised any form of support he could provide, from moral to financial, and informed Kennedy that she was to focus all of her efforts on this problem as his newly reinstated PA.
Kennedy met with George Stratton for nearly an hour and had a crash course on child custody laws in the state. Stratton agreed to take Graham on as a client and advised that he would be able to file for custody of Nathan within an hour of the DNA results. He was pleased to learn that there would be additional information about the child's mother that would support Graham's application and was given to understand that Graham would be working in a very different profession by the following day, primarily as a result of learning about his son.
Kennedy then went shopping for Graham and arranged for her purchases to be delivered to the club. She next viewed two properties that Patrick owned and chose one to be refurbished immediately. A visit to an up-and-coming design firm elicited a contract whereby said property would be toured within the hour and furnished and decorated within a five-day period. Kennedy toured with the designer and was satisfied with her professionalism. The promise of future work for prominent citizens sealed the deal. Her next stop was to a jeweler, where she chose an engagement ring designed to be noticed but without being ostentatious. This she slipped into her bag.
An employment agency provided her with a list of prospective live-in nannies in case the present one proved to be unsuitable.
Her final stop of the day was at a large department store where she chose tasteful clothing suitable for a young mother and several outfits and usual paraphernalia suitable for a nearly two-year-old child, including a stroller and a high chair. She had the latter delivered to the designer with instructions to place them in the house. Kennedy loaded her shopping bags into a taxi and directed the driver to the club. She was exhausted, but the initial planning was done.
Graham woke with a sense of dread, but the rest had done him a great deal of good. His mind was clear and his body ready for action. He dressed quickly and set out to find Kennedy. He found her, slumped in a chair in Patrick's office, looking pale and wan. He went to her, but she waved him off, and he felt as though she had raised some kind of force field between them. Patrick intervened, shoving another chair his way, and Graham cautiously sat.
"Kennedy has laid some groundwork for you, Gray," Patrick said. "It's up to you if you want to follow through on it."
Graham said, "Let's hear it."
"She has retained an excellent family attorney on your behalf to seek custody of the boy as soon as the results come back. In order to persuade the judge to rule in your favor, we have a PI gathering information on Jennifer's state of mind and involvement, or lack thereof, in the child's life since he was born. I'll leave that up to the PI and our imagination as to where he is going to get that information from, but I'm sure the nanny will be our best source."
Graham nodded and thought it through. So far it made sense.
"Kennedy has arranged for one of the properties I own to be turned into an appropriate home for a young child, again before the DNA results come in. It will reflect family values and a stable environment for the boy."
"I owe you, Patrick," Graham offered.
"You owe Kennedy, Graham," Patrick shot back. "I am merely providing the resources as she requires them."
Graham looked at Kennedy, but she had her eyes closed.
"You'll have to work for me in another venue, starting tomorrow," Patrick continued.
Graham sat up, tearing his gaze from Kennedy's tired face. "What?"
"No judge is going to award custody, even temporary custody, to someone who whips women in a sex club, Graham," Kennedy advised from her slump across the room. "Hear Patrick out."
Graham subsided and resolved to hear it through.
"You have a business degree, so I've arranged for you to hold a vice president position in that IT company that has been giving Kennedy and I fits for the past month. Those techies need someone to rule and make them focus on what I want. The records will reflect a consulting role over the past several months. Not too far off the mark because you have helped Kennedy through some bad days after dealing with them."
Patrick's tone was full of amusement. Kennedy turned her face away, and Graham fought the memory of one particular night. He so wanted Kennedy on the cross again.
"You have a complete wardrobe, compliments of Kennedy, and I suggest that you try everything on so that you look the part and are comfortable in your new duds. We're still working on how to explain your work here, but Jennifer might accept a trade-off. She won't want her own role as a sub shared in court."
Graham shuddered at the thought of wearing a suit and tie, but part of his Dom persona was drama based, and he figured he could carry it off.
"But won't the judge ask about child care?" he asked. "It won't be any better for Nathan to move from one nanny to another, or even have a nanny care for him while I'm at work. That's what we are trying to avoid. My parents would show themselves as being available twenty-four-seven, and that could tip the scales."
Kennedy waved her left hand at him. He stared at the diamond and nearly choked.
"What the fuck?" he managed.
She finally looked at him, and the pain in her eyes broke his heart. "Language, Graham, please. We mentor children, remember that. If we could have found someone else to stand in as your significant other, we would have, but you've already implicated me in Jennifer's eyes. She would see through any other substitute. As it stands, she will be undermined by my willingness to leave Patrick's employ as his PA in his other 'legitimate' businesses in order to support you in raising a child you didn't know you had. True love and all that."
Graham flinched at the bitterness of her last few words. "The judge will question your commitment, Kennedy, if you use that tone."
Kennedy laughed tiredly. "Fuck you, Graham. I'll look the very picture of motherhood in court, and your child will get my attention, although with a nanny's help. I know little about children and don't intend to learn much more than the basics. No point in confusing the tyke. I expect you'll have full custody in three months, maybe a bit more. If you can retain the same nanny he has now, providing she is a good person, then Nathan will be okay as long as he connects with you. And I'll fade into the sunset."
She pushed herself to her feet. "I'm going to bed. I've taken one of the guest rooms, Patrick. Let me know tomorrow if you want to do this, Graham. I'll return those clothes if you don't, and the ones I purchased for myself. The ring will be a different story, I'm afraid. It set you back a bit."
Graham sat frozen in his chair as the love of his life dragged herself out the door and shut it quietly behind her. She had cut him off at the knees and at the same time sacrificed her life for the next several months for him. It couldn't be too late for them. He wouldn't allow it. He stood to follow her, only to have Patrick lay a hand on his arm.
"You won't move her right now, Gray," Patrick empathized. "Think on the plan, and if it works for you, we'll put it in place in the morning."
Graham went to find something to eat and sat alone in the atrium with his meal. He could find no flaw in Kennedy's plan, although the ending was skewed. He would have over three months, maybe more, to change her mind, to woo her, to show her how much he loved her. They would be living in the same house, sleeping in the same bed if he had anything to say about it, and she would, as she said, want to mentor Nathan. What better example than a happily married mom and dad. He returned to his quarters full of purpose and spent the next hour trying on monkey suits and ties. Kennedy had impeccable taste, and even the shoes fit the part. He was lucky she hadn't deliberately chosen a size too small. He would pick out a different ring for her, though. He knew her heart wasn't in the one she presently wore.
Kennedy sat beside Graham, her hand tucked into the crook of his arm as George Stratton presented the case. The judge was initially concerned about removing a child from his mother and placing him with someone who had only just found out that he had a son. However, he was provided with the nanny's sworn affidavit, which outlined that Jennifer had had virtually no contact with Nathan until the decision to seek out the child's father, hadn't even spent time with him since bringing him to Austin. He also perused several other documents that indicated Jennifer's interest in her child only as a means to an end, specifically monetary gain. He then awarded Graham temporary custody. The fact that Graham had appropriate housing, a supportive fiancée, and a more than adequate income also helped.
The judge specified that Nathan's nanny continue to be involved in his care until a later date. Termination of her services would only be as a result of a recommendation by a child psychologist and not before the expected custody trial, unless she left of her own volition. Kennedy managed not to squirm when the elderly man fixed her with a stare and suggested that she consider parenting courses along with Graham and work with the nanny so that Nathan would benefit from two knowledgeable, loving parents. He applauded her decision to quit her job and become a stay-at-home mom until Nathan was older.
Graham was open about his secondary job at the club, although not specific in the details, and it was wryly suggested that he make Nathan the focus of any extra energy. The judge decided that access by Jennifer would be denied until everything was presented at the trial.
Graham and Kennedy went straight to the hotel suite where Nathan was staying with the nanny, Lois Wright. George Stratton accompanied them, as well as an officer of the court. Jennifer wasn't there, and Lois hadn't seen her for several days since Graham's initial meeting with his son. Lois, forewarned by the PI and subsequent signing of the affidavit, willingly agreed to move with her young charge into Graham's home and continue her duties. She seemed relieved and confided that Mrs. Perry treated her like a servant. She also shared that Jennifer insisted that Nathan stay in the second bedroom because he was too active. It was nearly impossible for a toddler to live in such cramped quarters, and Lois didn't know the area well enough to venture very far with him. Graham left the court documents, along with his cell number, on the bar top, and helped to pack up Nathan's possessions. He was troubled at the paucity of them.
Kennedy drew on every reserve she had in order to cope with the emotions that surged through her. She had stayed away from Graham until that morning, focusing on the arrangements for Nathan. She hadn't allowed herself to think specifically about the little boy except as an important project, and now, seeing how beautiful the child was, how much he resembled Graham, well, he became quite real. She had always been okay with children and babysitting had been one of her teenage jobs. But while she liked little kids, none had ever made her heart swell like Nathan did when she first laid eyes on him. He was a sturdy, well-made toddler, with blond, slightly curly hair that waved around his head like a halo. His rosebud mouth and tiny nose were still childish, but his silvery eyes had his father's stamp. Nathan was naturally overwhelmed by the number of adults in the room and clung to Lois, babbling "Mama, Mama," but he didn't cry or make terribly strange noises. Kennedy decided to let Nathan come to her when he felt more secure. She wasn't going to play any major, long-term role in his life, and that parenting course idea plain sucked. There would be no children in her future, but she would have to attend for Nathan's sake. Oh, she knew she was primarily doing this for Graham, but the idea of being instructed in appropriate ways to parent was going to hurt, big time.
They all got settled in the newly refurbished house. Nathan had his own little bed in a large bedroom with his nanny rather than in the nursery. Lois insisted that she was happier to sleep in the same room with him, at least until he adjusted. Kennedy resigned herself to sharing a room with Graham for the sake of appearances. The queen-size bed had a trundle mattress, and she told Lois that should Nathan connect with them, he might want to stay in their room some nights for comfort. She felt a tinge of guilt when Lois's eyes glistened at her thoughtfulness. The trundle bed was really for Kennedy because she couldn't let Graham that close. She didn't know how he was going to react exactly, but if he wanted to see this through, he would do as she said. It would be like weaning herself, she considered ruefully, sleeping in the same room as the man she loved but apart from him. When the custody battle was over, she would be able to move on more easily. She wouldn't let herself examine the kernel of hurt and rage she had buried deep. The next move was Jennifer's, and Kennedy couldn't predict what that might be, although she had a few thoughts on it. She needed to keep her wits about her.
Graham felt like he had run a marathon. In a few short days he had changed jobs, acquired a fiancée and a son, moved to the burbs, and hired an actual nanny. He knew that Jennifer would react to his first strike and thought she would first threaten him then contact his parents. He was going to try and buy her off if he could, although Stratton had warned him about how that might look in a court of law. The longer it took her to return to the suite and discover that he had custody of Nathan, the better it would look for his case, so he hoped she was off on one of her adventures. Lois didn't even have a number where she could reach Jennifer in the event of an emergency, and Stratton had made a note of that. The PI was assembling more information, too. But Jennifer would fight dirty. Graham knew she would stoop to any low if it meant she would get what she wanted. Kennedy had foiled her to this point, but now it was up to Graham, and he planned to both follow his lawyer's advice and use his own experience to deal with Jennifer.
He hadn't seen Kennedy since they had moved into the house. It was the weekend, so it would give them a chance to help Nathan grow accustomed to them. Graham had already fallen in love with his son. He wasn't prepared for how that small slice of humanity had simply moved past all of his defenses without trying. He looked forward to those parenting classes, although he would never admit it. He didn't have the first idea of how to raise a child other than how his parents did it and, of course, Miss Trask. Kennedy would learn right alongside him, and they would be good parents to Nathan. He chose to ignore Kennedy's contention that she would remain on the periphery until such time as she could walk. Three months was a long time, and it might take even longer to deal with Jennifer. If the woman had even hinted at having maternal feelings for Nathan, then Graham would feel differently about excluding her, but he wasn't going to let Jennifer use the child. He went looking for Kennedy and found her in the kitchen, putting a meal together.
Graham moved quietly and stood right behind her. Her shoulders tensed, so he knew she was aware of him, but she didn't speak and continued to cut the potatoes she had peeled into small chunks, placing them in a pot of water. He bent to press a kiss on her nape, and she deftly sidestepped, turning to face him, the paring knife held between them. To any onlooker it wouldn't appear threatening or even as a mild warning, but Graham read it correctly.
"Can I help?" he asked.
"I'm fine, thank you, dear," Kennedy cooed.
Graham was startled by her tone and the endearment, then realized that Lois had entered the kitchen, Nathan in her arms. The boy had obviously just awoken from a nap.
"There's juice in the fridge for him, Lois," Kennedy said. "Dinner won't be ready for maybe an hour. I hope he likes mashed potatoes and meatloaf."
Lois headed for the fridge, handing Nathan off to Graham as she passed him.
"He'll need a drink, Ms. Johnson, but an hour should be fine. Nathan loves cream corn!"
"Why don't you take your son out on the patio, Graham?" suggested Kennedy. "Lois can go, too, so he doesn't get worried."
Graham was entranced with the feel of Nathan's sturdy body in his arms and was relieved when the boy relaxed against him. He wanted to talk to Kennedy, to try and bridge the gap between them, and he knew she was pushing him away. However, he knew that the sooner he connected with Nathan, the better it would be for him, so he took the sippy cup from Lois and the three of them went outside.
Kennedy set the potatoes to boil and searched for a can of cream corn. She dumped it into a small pot and turned it on low. The meatloaf would take another half hour or more, and she now had a little time to just sit and unwind. She kept her back to the garden doors so she wouldn't have to watch Graham and his son. Lois was a nice girl, she decided. Pretty plain-Jane, obviously skilled with children, midthirties. She would make Graham a good wife. He would know that Nathan was well taken care of, and he could get his kicks at the club. Although, one never knew. Lois might just be a closet sex queen. Kind of like she had become. Nope, don't go there. The next few months were going to kill her, although she could get away some evenings without raising Lois's eyebrows. Kennedy didn't kid herself. Lois was going to end up being the prime witness for both Jennifer and Graham, and Lois probably didn't miss very much. She clearly was doing this for Nathan's sake though, so Kennedy would be careful to play her part. She could hear Nathan's little squeals as he played outside and the rumble of Graham's voice and Lois's laughter. She was in a hell of her own making. Fucking martyr.
Dinner went well. Nathan ate heartily, and Lois praised the food, explaining that the hotel room service food was too rich for a child. Graham cleaned his plate and added his appreciation, so Kennedy dimpled at him prettily. She thought she might throw up. When Lois suggested that they bathe Nathan and get him ready for bed, Kennedy quickly vetoed her suggestion. She stated that she would clean up while Lois explained Nathan's bath routine to Graham. After all, she had all day to spend with him. Lois didn't bat an eye, but Graham stared at her assessingly. Kennedy gave them her most innocent look and began to clear the table. She did her best to ignore the happy noises emanating from the bathroom.
Graham watched his son snuggle under the covers and shut his eyes trustingly. Lois assured him that Nathan dropped off quickly and that she would watch television for awhile without disturbing him. He took his leave and went to the kitchen. It was in darkness, as was the living area. Kennedy must be in their bedroom. There was no sign of her there either, so he retraced his steps. She was curled up in a chair in the far corner of the family room, looking out over the front yard. She ignored his presence until he blocked her gaze out the window.
"Go away, Graham," she said. "I'm tired and don't want to talk to you right now."
"We have to talk sometime, Kennedy," he answered inflexibly. "Come to bed where we can have some privacy."
"What part of go away didn't you get?" she asked peevishly. "Today was an incredible strain, and if you want me to continue, don't add to it."
Graham surrendered. He wheeled and strode out of the room, deciding to shower and read in bed until she joined him. Hours later he went quietly back to the family room to find her asleep, still in the same chair, recent tears still glistening on her cheeks, reflected by the outside lighting. She woke as soon as he gathered her up and began to struggle.
"Settle down, honey. Lois shouldn't find you here in the morning. You have obviously been crying, and she'll start to wonder."
"Put me down," she whispered. "I'll walk."
Graham ignored her and carried her to their bedroom, setting her on her feet just inside the adjoining bathroom. She looked at him dispassionately, and he wondered how it had come to this. Surely she could get past his stupidity. She must know how much he cared for her. Kennedy shut the door in his face and locked it. He heard the shower come on. He got back into bed and waited.
Kennedy stayed in the shower until the water cooled. She spent a long time drying her hair and doing a facial. Finally, she gave up stalling and let herself into the bedroom. She wore a long, cotton gown with underwear, and had covered that with a robe. Graham was sitting up in bed reading and was bare-chested, probably naked under the sheet. She wanted to sleep in the same bed as him, to pretend they were a couple for real. She wanted him to cuddle her and stroke her hair and tell her he loved her. But she couldn't get past how he had lied to her by omission and let her fall in love with a man she really didn't know at all. How many other secrets did he have? She knelt to pull out the trundle, and Graham came off the bed like a huge cat.
"What the fuck is that?" He growled, obviously trying to keep his voice down.
"I'm not sleeping in the same bed as you, Graham, for obvious reasons," she answered calmly. "Lois thinks this is for Nathan should he need to come in to us in the night, so our cover is safe."
"Why won't you sleep with me, Kennedy? Are you afraid I'll force you?" he snarled.
Kennedy wanted to cry. "No, Graham. I'm not going to prevaricate or mince words. You know that if I sleep with you we'll have sex, or kinky sex. And I don't have sex with men I don't like and distrust."
Graham grabbed her by the shoulders and hauled her against him. "You don't like me?" he asked incredulously.
Kennedy didn't resist him. "Don't confuse love with like, Graham," she advised quietly. "I love you. I'm doing all of this for you. But I don't like you. I no longer trust you. I don't really know you. And I absolutely won't allow you to use my weakness for you against me. Because then I'll hate myself, and you, by extension. So, just accept it or let me go."
Graham's eyes burned. He was angry with her, that's what it was. She was being unreasonable and acting like a woman. She was too sensitive and needed to know too much about him. He hated pushy and intrusive women. Funny how that train of thought didn't work for him. His eyes actually were burning with unshed tears. Kennedy was always honest with him. He set her away from him, very gently, and walked on hollow legs back to his side of the bed. He crawled between the sheets and carefully put his book on the nightstand, then turned out the reading light. He heard Kennedy settle into the little trundle bed, and then the room plunged into darkness. He hoped she wouldn't have a bad dream and made a mental note to get a night light for her. He had hope. She loved him. He would respect her boundaries and try to be the best man he could be with her and his son. He would include her in everything, and she might come to see him as someone she could like and trust again.
Kennedy lay quiet for hours, listening to Graham sleep. The lines were drawn in the sand, and she knew he would respect them, that he would use his self-control to do so. She didn't feel any happier but still believed it was the right thing to do. Life had been a veritable roller coaster over the past several months and promised to be the same for the next several. Just a few days ago she had thought of moving away, of moving on. This was no different, just a bit delayed, and now much easier because Graham had accepted her dictum. Funny how badly she hurt, and it didn't feel very satisfying.
Chapter Eleven
The next few weeks flowed in much the same manner. Graham ate the breakfast that a smiling Kennedy made for him every morning, often sharing small bites with Nathan. He would kiss his son good-bye and blow Kennedy a kiss then head off to work. The work was more challenging than he expected, and Patrick was already looking ahead to having him straighten out other companies. It seemed he had a flair for it. He went home after work to a good meal and spent time with his son afterward, bathing him and putting him to bed with a story. He and Kennedy would then sit in the family room, reading or watching television. Graham would tell her about his day, and unless Lois was there, she would answer him perfunctorily, but she was unfailingly polite. If Lois was present, Kennedy would encourage the other woman to share additional anecdotes of Nathan's behavior during the day but seemed to avoid including her own involvement. They would head off to bed at the same time and sleep separately. Graham hadn't been celibate in all of his adult life, and he craved the little woman sleeping close by. He thought of no one else. He knew she had cried quietly when she realized he had installed a night light for her and lay there helplessly as he knew she would spurn any attempt to comfort her. And through it all they waited for Jennifer to make a move. Lois wasn't at all surprised that Jennifer had dropped off the grid, so to speak. Apparently that was her pattern.
Kennedy did everything domestic she could think of. She cooked, cleaned, did laundry, and generally fussed with the house, including the flower beds, all to avoid spending too much time with Nathan. She made sure he had suitable food and that his clothes were clean and fit properly, and engaged him from a distance. When Lois seemed a bit concerned about her lack of hands-on interest, she took him for walks in the stroller and read him books before his nap. She was falling in love with another man, albeit a miniature one, and it was going to kill her to leave them both. Nathan would gaze at her with Graham's eyes and toddle over to lean against her, and Kennedy so badly wanted to pick him up and hold him forever. But she couldn't do it to him. She couldn't be a presence in his life and then leave. It was so hard. It was a fine line to walk, but she managed it. Although, at great cost to herself. She hoped Jennifer wouldn't ever contact Graham yet longed for her to get on with it.
Jennifer blew into Graham's office exactly twenty-one days after he had picked up his son from the hotel suite. She looked used up and worn around the edges, despite the designer clothing and expensive makeup and hairstyle. She threw the court documents at him.
"What the fuck is this shit, Graham?" she shrieked.
"I would think they are self-explanatory, Jennifer," Graham responded calmly as though he wasn't in the fight of his life.
"I'll fight this all the way to the Supreme Court, you asshole. I'll out you as the pervert you are, and they'll hand the kid over to me so fast," she threatened.
"You can do what you like, Jennifer, but consider how you know of my perversions, and think of what the judge might think of yours," Graham suggested.
Jennifer shut up for a moment, her mind clearly ticking over.
"I suppose that little priss Lois is looking after Nathan," she complained. "Layne hired her. He thought she was perfect."
Graham nodded, and added, "And of course my fiancée is caring for him as well."
Jennifer's eyes narrowed, and she nearly spat at him. "That chubby little PA? Nathan is my child, not hers."
"Nathan is my son, Jennifer, and he is in my custody. I decide who cares for him. If you want to challenge that fact, better find yourself a high-priced lawyer. And Nathan's trust won't pay for your legal fees either."
Jennifer changed tactics. "C'mon, Gray," she wheedled. "We had something together, and Nathan came out of that. We can have it again."
"You wanted my money, my family's connections, Jennifer. Not me. And I no longer want you. I haven't for a long time."
She smiled coyly. "How do your parents feel about their grandson?" she asked.
Graham shrugged. "It doesn't matter, Jennifer. They are older. They have their own lives. They would hardly be interested in raising a toddler."
Jennifer pounced. "You haven't told them. They would probably move heaven and earth for a child to inherit the business. I'm sure they would welcome the news, and the bearer of such good tidings."
Graham shrugged again. "Your choice, Jennifer." He really didn't want to fight a custody battle on two fronts, but he didn't know how to dissuade Jennifer.
She suddenly dropped into one of his guest chairs. "I haven't got the money to pay for a lawyer, Gray. And you probably know everything I have done in the past years, right up to yesterday."
Her voice took on a bitter twist. "Patrick is probably backing you, the bastard. Well, I can't fight you, but your parents can. If I can't have Nathan, you won't either."
"Why do you want a child you haven't spent time with since he was born?" Graham asked curiously.
Jennifer laughed. "Because he's my ticket, Graham. Not that you'll get me to say that out loud to anyone else. Layne died without making sure I'd be well taken care of, but he didn't forget about Nathan, oh no. Your kid and Layne just ignored that fact. I don't have a maternal bone in my body, and Layne knew it."
"So, if you have enough funds for the life you want to live, then you wouldn't need Nathan?" Graham queried.
Jennifer looked at him, greed and speculation in her eyes. "What's it worth to you, Gray?"
"Uh-uh, Jennifer. I'm not buying my son. And if my parents offer, the courts will hear about it, and that won't go over well. You can't afford a lawyer, although you can probably get legal aid. Which will put the case off for years probably, and you'll be on short rations the whole time. My parents might apply for custody but won't pay you a dime because of how it will reflect on them and hurt their application. So you're essentially using a little boy as a pawn because you can't have your own way. Go for it. I like my chances."
Jennifer appeared lost in her thoughts, and Graham waited impatiently for her to leave. He stood to open the door for her when she gave him an imperious wave to sit down again.
"If I marry again and the father adopts Nathan, the trust fund reverts to the estate and is dispersed. I would get some of it," she confessed. "Enough to live on really comfortably when you include my stipend. And I have someone lined up for down the road, but he needs to divorce his wife first."
"So if you marry me and adopt Nathan..." she continued.
Graham interrupted her. At least she wasn't interested in him for old times' sake.
"I'm marrying Kennedy. But, if I adopt Nathan or whatever I need to do, now that his paternity is no longer in question, then maybe the same rules apply to his trust fund without you having to marry and have your husband adopt Nathan. I don't care about the money."
Jennifer jumped up and tried to throw her arms around him, but Graham held her at bay, filled with distaste.
"I'll sort it out, Jennifer, but you will sign a confidentiality agreement if things play out."
She nodded enthusiastically. "Call me, Gray. Soon." She left his office as quickly as she had entered it, but in a far different mood.
Graham immediately phoned his lawyer and arranged an appointment. He would go home and collect Kennedy, and they would...but she would have no reason to stay any longer if things played out. Jennifer would be out of his life, his parents wouldn't have an opportunity to interfere, he would have full guardianship of Nathan, but Kennedy would leave. He must have done something terrible in a former life to deserve this. No, he had simply withheld a huge part of himself from the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and she no longer liked him as a person. Fucking wonderful.
Kennedy knew something was up with Graham from the moment he walked in the door. The situation seemed utterly domestic. Nathan had already become excited when his father came home and would toddle over to him. Graham would scoop him up and blow kisses into the child's neck. Nathan would shriek and laugh. Lois had been teaching him how to say "Dada, Dada," and Kennedy hoped she would be around when the child spoke those words to Graham. Graham typically would then carry his son over to Kennedy, whether she was cooking dinner or curled up in a chair where she had been watching Lois and Nathan play. He would press a kiss on her cheek, and she would force a smile. Dinner would proceed with Nathan banging his spoon on his high chair and feeding himself with pride. Lois and Graham would compliment her cooking and then take Nathan off for his bath and bedtime routine. But tonight Graham was preoccupied. He cuddled Nathan but was fairly silent during the meal and insisted that she help Lois with the boy while he cleaned up. Nathan protested, and Kennedy distanced herself to let Lois calm him and get him organized for bed. Kennedy's anxiety grew, and once Nathan was down for the night and Lois ensconced in their room in front of her favorite television show, she tracked Graham down to the bedroom.
"What's going on?" she asked him.
"I saw Jennifer today," he answered.
Kennedy's stomach roiled. This couldn't be good.
"I'm meeting with Stratton tomorrow, and there may be a way out of this without a custody battle or any involvement by my parents," he advised.
"Oh, well, that's good, right?" she asked.
Graham nodded, but his eyes were somber.
"What is it?" she asked. "Don't think to leave me out of the loop, Graham. Don't dare."
"I don't want you anywhere near Jennifer, honey. You set her off, and she might back out if she gets to thinking about you and me."
Kennedy huffed. "There is no you and me, Graham, but I get it. I'll stay clear. But I want to know what happens tomorrow and what the plan is."
Graham said, "I won't hold anything back, Kennedy. I promise."
He looked so sad that Kennedy nearly put her arms around him. She didn't understand. If there was an easier way out of this, wouldn't that be great for the little guy? It would solve so many issues. And she could leave sooner and not have to pretend and suffer the way she had been. She had been learning about Graham over the past weeks, learning the whole man. He had dropped all of his defenses in Nathan's presence, and she had seen his pain as he struggled to learn how to parent his son. He had initially been awkward and rigid, uncertain. Kennedy didn't know any men who would allow a nanny to teach them about children. For Graham, who had been a dominant male in his own element at the club, it had to be a humbling experience for him to turn white-collar and parent a child, never mind maintaining the cover relationship with her. He offered up little snippets about his own childhood to Lois while Kennedy was within earshot, and it was hard to hear what he had to say. It made Kennedy want to scream in pain and rage at the neglect she, too, had experienced. She found herself liking Graham a little as she came to think that he was finally being real and openly honest. And she missed being with him, sleeping with him, having sex with him, if she was honest with herself. Her hurt and disappointment over how much of himself he had withheld from her had waned and seemed less important. She was caught in a trap of her own design. She had set a time limit and Graham had accepted it. He no longer tried to seduce her. He didn't even look at her the way he used to, like he could have her for lunch. He had changed, changed for the better, or maybe just come into his own, and there was no room for her in his life. Once Nathan was safe there was no further need for her to stay. She had fucking mental health issues for certain, and Graham would be better off without her. On that happy thought, she locked herself in the bathroom to get ready for bed.
Graham stared at the closed door. He thought Kennedy was going to open up to him. He had felt something from her, something different than the forced gaiety and arm's-length attitude she had adopted over the past weeks. But she had visibly pushed it down and retreated. Well, as soon as he settled things with Jennifer, Kennedy was going to participate in a discussion about the future. He didn't know if he could tie her to the bed and keep her there for as long as it would take without freaking Lois out, but maybe Lois could go shopping or something, take a little vacation for a day or two. He could both look after Nathan and talk Kennedy around. His son slept soundly and through the night. He would just have to plan things properly. It killed him to know that his woman was two strides away from him every night, and hiding it from her to spare her the pressure nearly did him in. The whole fucking thing was such a farce. Christ, he could roll over and onto her and into her! But not until he could ensure Lois wasn't home. He didn't think the nanny would understand.
George Stratton promised to look into the technicalities of Nathan's trust fund, but cautioned Graham to stay out of it and let him handle things from there. A judge wouldn't look favorably on Jennifer's viable plan to access the fund, and Graham didn't need to get painted in the same manner. Now all Graham could do was wait and hope.
Chapter Twelve
Kennedy sat with Nathan in her lap. She had cooked breakfast, cleaned up, and then cleaned the house. She was starting the laundry when Lois asked her to take care of Nathan so that she could have some time to herself. Kennedy suddenly realized that Lois hadn't had a day off since they had moved in and felt terrible.
"Of course, Lois, how insensitive of me!" she exclaimed.
"It's really not a problem, Ms. Johnson," Lois assured her. "But I need to do a few things like banking and what have you, and wouldn't mind not having Nathan attached to my hip while I do it." The nanny laughed as she said it, clearly not being serious.
"Take the whole day, Lois, please, and if you would like to stay downtown overnight or longer, I'll arrange for you to have a suite at my former boss's hotel," Kennedy offered. "Do you need time to go back to your home..."
Lois looked tempted for a moment and then shook her head. "Let's see how Nathan does without me for a day. He should be fine, but his father won't be home until later so..."
Kennedy heard the tone in Lois's voice. She didn't dare look at the nanny, concentrating instead on sorting the wash.
"I'm sure we'll manage, Lois," she answered, fighting not to let any emotion color her response.
"Ms. Johnson," Lois ventured carefully, "I know it's really none of my business, but I feel a huge responsibility for Nathan and I will have to talk to the judge, too. You are a really nice person and so kind, but you seem to want to keep your distance from the little guy."
When Kennedy shifted and turned away, Lois hurriedly added, "Not that you aren't good to him, don't get me wrong. It's just like you don't want to get too close to him, and it makes me wonder if you really want to be his mother."
"Nathan has a mother, Lois, even if she apparently isn't interested in him," Kennedy said quietly. "And Mr. Alexander truly cares for his son. I assume that you are going to stay on for some time, so Nathan doesn't need yet another person totally involved in his care, and I have no intention of replacing his mother."
Lois didn't respond other than to say, "I'll take you up on the offer of the little car and be back after dinner to say good night to Nathan."
Kennedy let the laundry sit while she read to Nathan, enjoying the feel of his little body in her arms and his excited utterances at the pictures in the book. He leaned into her trustingly, and she fought tears, but not successfully. The child touched her face in wonder and wrinkled his own. She sniffed her emotions back and laughed for him until he settled against her again. They played with his assortment of toys, and he willingly ate the lunch she provided then went down for a short nap. Kennedy threw the laundry into the dryer and wished for the moon. She wished for Graham and Nathan to be her family. She wished for another baby to complete them. She wished to stay in the nice suburban house even if the fence was redwood and not white picket. She wished she were dead so that she didn't have to feel this way.
Nathan loved his stroller ride to the park, and Kennedy sat with the other young moms, all watching the children work out the pecking order in the sandbox. Kennedy so wanted to feel included and let herself pretend for a little while. Nathan didn't really call her anything, although he cried out for her when a little girl took his shovel, reaching up with his little arms. The other moms asked curious questions, and she fended them off without offending anyone, but it strained her. Time slipped by, and Kennedy realized that she would never make it home in time to make supper. She bundled Nathan into his stroller and experienced a mini Graham temper exchange, but they were on their way without too much fuss. Graham's SUV was already in the driveway, and Kennedy had a brief moment of panic, knowing that he would be wondering if something had happened. He met them at the door and took Nathan from her arms without comment, hugging his son and taking him off for a change and wash. Kennedy resigned herself to a quiet evening and opened the freezer to try and find something to feed them.
"We'll go out to someplace that kids can eat at tonight, Kennedy," Graham spoke from the hall, setting a struggling Nathan down on his feet.
Kennedy managed to stop the toddler's charge before he slammed into her and lifted him to head to the fridge and find him some juice. She sat him in his high chair with a sippy cup and offered a cookie. Nathan immediately began to chew on the biscuit and then managed the cup with both hands.
"I'm sorry I was late getting back and didn't leave a note, Graham," she began.
Graham shrugged. "Lois called to say she would be late, so I figured you had Nathan out somewhere."
"Oh, okay. Well, you take Nathan and go then. I have laundry to fold and some ironing to do."
"Get your fucking purse, Kennedy." He growled. "Enough of avoiding me, of avoiding Nathan."
"Graham!" she gasped. "Nathan will repeat that word. You know he will."
"I don't know anything of the kind because you won't talk with me about him. You are putting off those parent classes. You're playing at being his big sister or some such shit."
"'hit," Nathan said cheerfully around a mouthful of cookie.
The expression on Graham's face nearly made Kennedy laugh, but she restrained herself.
"Get your purse."
Kennedy meekly accompanied Graham and Nathan to the vehicle. Graham strapped Nathan into his car seat, ignoring the child's protests, and then distracted him with a stuffed toy. He drove in silence, his stifled emotions pouring over her. Graham pulled into a mom-and-pop restaurant that was attached to a child's play zone. Kennedy didn't even know those things existed, but they were apparently quite popular to judge by the number of vehicles in the lot.
They found a place to sit and ordered their meals, and then they took Nathan to the bouncing tent, full of multicolored balls. He moved in to sit with the other children fearlessly and was soon throwing balls and rolling and bouncing with the best of them.
"He's going to be cranky tonight," Kennedy observed.
"Why?" Graham asked flatly.
"Because he played hard at the park after his nap and he'll be overtired," she explained.
"Well, I guess we'll just have to manage it," Graham replied.
Kennedy bit her lip and avoided looking at Graham. He seemed upset and hostile. She wondered what had happened.
"Did you hear from George today?" she asked.
"No."
Kennedy waited, but there was nothing else forthcoming. She moved to rescue Nathan from a tumble and gently chastised him when he pushed at her. He was already overtired, and she didn't look forward to the meal.
Nathan didn't like the food he was offered. He refused to try to feed himself and refused to be fed. He squirmed and writhed in this high chair and threw whatever he could reach. Graham looked more and more like a thundercloud, and Kennedy didn't know if she should intervene or just let him figure it out. Graham hadn't seen his son in anything other than a sunny mood because Lois and even Kennedy both knew how to head problems off with a good routine and had the luxury of a well-ordered household to do it in. She ate her meal quickly and watched Graham's patience grow thinner.
Graham pushed his plate away and dropped some cash on the table. He cleared Nathan's tray and wiped the child's face and hands despite Nathan's protests and then scooped him up. Kennedy followed the pair out to the vehicle, not sure if she was amused or trepidatious. Nathan screamed and cried all the way home, and Kennedy hoped Lois wasn't back yet. Graham didn't try to calm Nathan, apparently having accepted that distractions weren't going to work when his son hurled the stuffed toy at the windshield. He carried the angry little person inside and turned to Kennedy.
"Does he need a bath tonight, or can we skip it?"
She shrugged. "Sometimes a bath calms children, but I don't know about Nathan. I haven't seen him like this."
Graham efficiently stripped Nathan and stood him in the tub after checking the water temperature in the handheld shower. He quickly lathered the boy with gentle soap and sprayed him to rinse off the suds. Nathan stopped carrying on at the sensation, staring at his father in shock. He didn't protest being dried off or fight being dressed in pajamas. Graham tucked him into bed and kissed his forehead. Nathan looked at Kennedy and stretched out his arms to her.
"Uh-uh, little guy," she whispered. "You aren't playing your dad and I against one another."
She blew him a kiss and touched his foot, then left the room.
Graham joined her in the family room shortly thereafter where she was folding the laundry.
"Is he asleep?" she asked.
"He is, the little brat," Graham said grimly. "I guess I've graduated to stern daddy."
Kennedy smiled to herself and turned to set up the ironing board when Graham put her over his shoulder.
"What the fuck are you doing?" she nearly shrieked, trying to modulate her voice so she wouldn't wake Nathan.
"Language, Kennedy," he said, slapping her ass. "I'm taking you someplace where we can have a discussion."
Uh-oh. Discussions before weren't just verbal. But Graham wasn't interested in her sexually anymore, so....then why was he pulling the caveman act? Graham literally dumped her on the bed, and she bounced much like Nathan had at the play center. She caught herself and watched as he opened his shirt and pulled it off.
"Take off your clothes, Kennedy," he ordered.
Kennedy shifted her weight and decided to make a run for it. She didn't know where this was going. Oh for fuck's sake, of course she did. Graham was going to have sex with her. There were restraints at all four corners of the head-and footboards and the covers had been pulled down to the floor. She wanted to let him. She wanted to participate but would lose her good intentions if she did.
"No."
"Fine," Graham acknowledged. He locked the door and flipped the baby monitor on.
"If you don't care what happens to those nice matronly clothes, I sure don't."
Kennedy took exception to his statement. "These matronly clothes, as you so nastily refer to them, are perfect camouflage." She pushed away the memory of her earlier conversation with Lois.
Graham, now down to his boxers, stalked to the bed.
"No more talking, Kennedy."
He grabbed her as she tried to roll away and then quickly tied her wrists. She fought silently, but he thought her heart wasn't in it, and he escaped with no damage. His weight across her upper legs effectively held her until he could secure her ankles.
"What if Lois comes home?" she hissed at him.
"What if she does?" he replied. "Nathan is in bed, the house is secure, and we have retired early. She will understand even if she hears you making passionate noises."
"You prick. You're so sure of yourself. Well, the last time I seem to remember a little problem."
Graham flushed. "That's unlikely to happen again, honey. I'm back on top of my game."
Kennedy closed her eyes. What did that mean? Graham hadn't been getting laid anyplace else unless he managed to fit it in over the lunch hour, which, come to think of it, wasn't such impossibility. So why did he need her? How had she come to appeal to him again?
"What are you thinking?" Graham growled.
She shook her head.
"C'mon, Kennedy. You've never been anything but honest with me."
"I was just wondering what makes you want to fuck me, that's all."
Graham was on her instantly, fisting her hair, forcing her to look at him. "Does this"---he gestured to his cock, hard and erect, behind the fabric of his underwear---"does this look like I'm not interested in you, Kennedy?" he asked.
"That time I couldn't whatever, perform, had nothing to do with you and everything to do with the blow to my entire psyche."
He pushed to his feet impatiently and began to look through her top drawer, expelling a satisfied sound when he found a pair of scissors.
"Don't, Graham," she pleaded. "I'll take them off. I swear I will."
"I'm not listening anymore, Kennedy, until I have a question I want you to answer. And you will answer. I'm done with this playacting and trying to second-guess you. I don't give a shit if I have to fight Jennifer or my parents for Nathan. Losing is not an option, so that is on the back burner. You are my priority, and I'm not letting you push me away. So shut up."
Kennedy was infuriated at his arrogance and secretly turned on. Damn him. He was the old Graham with a flavor of the new and improved. Still, she wasn't going to make it easy for him.
Graham could almost read her mind, and he smiled with grim satisfaction. Hopefully Nathan wouldn't wake, at least until Lois came home, and that wouldn't be for hours. The nanny had indicated that she would be taking in a late show unless asked to return home earlier. He had some time to spend with his woman if he could control himself. It had been much too long. He set to work hacking her clothes off, smiling evilly when he found her wearing a sexy bra and matching panties. The housewife for the world to see, the seductress under those boring clothes. She whimpered when he cut them off, and he resolved to buy her a drawerful to replace them. Kennedy hadn't waxed. He couldn't blame her. She hadn't gone anywhere or done anything for herself since stepping into her role as his fiancée. Still, it was his pussy, and he decided to take the time to shave her.
"You aren't to do that," Kennedy threatened when Graham came out of the bathroom with several towels and her razor. She snarked at him when he ignored her. He hoped she wouldn't wax him in his sleep. She lay quiet and still as he spread her labia after propping her up on a towel-covered pillow and lathered her mound. When Graham put his thumb on her clit as he shaved around it, he knew she nearly went over. He knew her body so well.
"No orgasms for you, honey," Graham advised. "At least not until I get some satisfactory answers."
Shit. She really needed some pleasure and didn't especially want to draw this out. She'd just have to see what he wanted to know. When he wiped her clean of the lather and pressed two fingers up inside of her, Kennedy wanted to tell him everything. Immediately. Graham left her to dispose of the towels and razor, returning with a vibrator, lube, and an anal wand in his hands. It looked like he was serious. Kennedy wanted to beg, anything to have him fuck her, take her, and satisfy this need that had been ignored for so many weeks.
Graham slipped a hand beneath Kennedy's bottom and pushed his middle finger against her anus. She tensed against him, but he increased the pressure and the lubed digit slid past the tight muscle and past the first knuckle. Her gasp and involuntary flinch made him harder. He pushed another finger in to join the first and spread them in a scissor like motion, reveling at the sounds she made and the sight of her juices beginning to coat her labia. He bent over for a taste and lapped her from anus to clit, eliciting louder whimpers. Her flavor was as he remembered it, sweet and tart all at the same time. She smelled wonderful, and he buried his nose against her clit, inhaling her and then pushing his tongue as high inside as he could. Kennedy writhed against his face and began to pant. Graham instantly pulled away and returned to stretching her back opening. When she protested, he slapped her pussy.
"Quiet!" he snapped. He nearly smiled at the look she gave him. Gone was the happy housewife of the past weeks, and in her place was his wench, his hotheaded vixen.
Graham replaced his fingers with the anal wand, sliding it deep then pulling it nearly out of Kennedy. He repeated the process until he had it seated as far as he could. Kneeling between her legs he then pushed the vibe inside her vagina and turned it onto the lowest setting. He'd thought about using a dildo, but he could use his cock to better advantage than any toy, and the vibrator provided more opportunities. He watched Kennedy fight the initial sensation then relax into it, so he turned the vibe up. She leaked more moisture to his fascinated gaze, and he lubricated his other fingers with her juices and slid them over the hood of her clit, slowly pushing it back until her little red nub poked out. Kennedy began to thrash her head on the pillow, and her breathing shortened. Graham pulled away from her clit and waited.
She opened her eyes again and stared at him, passion clouding them. "Please, Graham, I haven't had an orgasm in a long time."
"And whose fault is that, honey?" he asked, casually moving the vibe so that the curved end pushed against her G-spot.
"Yours!" she nearly shrieked.
"Wrong answer, Kennedy." Graham began to fuck her ass with the wand and turned the vibe up to its highest setting while avoiding her G-spot.
"It is, too! Please, Graham."
Graham backed off and waited for her look at him again. "Here's your choice, Kennedy. You can come now, and as many more times as I choose to make you, or you can wait for it and talk to me."
He saw that Kennedy bit her lip. Orgasm upon orgasm probably sounded wonderful to her after her dry spell. Except she would also know that he wouldn't stop until he decided she had had enough. And then he'd find another way of making her talk if she didn't share even then.
"I'll wait," she said.
Graham turned the vibe back on and almost lazily manipulated the wand. "Tell me what you want."
"I want to come!" she begged.
Graham pulled the vibe out and slapped her pussy, hard.
"Tell me what you want."
Kennedy closed her eyes and then popped them open when he slapped her newly shaved labia again. It stung, although it felt arousing, too.
"Look at me and tell me what you want. You know this is not about sex. Tell me," he insisted.
"I want this life. I want you and Nathan and I want to live here with you both. I want a dog! I want to have a baby. There, now you know. All of it is what I have really wished for."
Graham leaned over and sucked her clit into his mouth then released it, leaving her on the edge.
"I told you, Graham. I did."
"I thought you didn't like me," he said softly.
Kennedy nearly sobbed. "I didn't. I'm still hurt that you would withhold so much from me. And I'm scared you'll do it again. But I like the person you've become, maybe the person you've been all along but wouldn't show me. And that fucking hurts, too, Graham. And I thought you didn't want me sexually anymore."
Graham straddled her waist and hung over her, his nose nearly touching hers.
"I'm sorry, honey. I've been sorry all along. I'm not sure I know what stopped me from sharing with you, except it absolutely wasn't that I thought you were anything like Jennifer. I think I was afraid that if I told you about me, then it would make it real, and then I couldn't deny it anymore because you are so fucking accepting of me. And I didn't think I could face me." He kissed her hard. "And I want you so badly on a sexual level that you aren't going to be able to walk tomorrow."
He continued, stroking her breasts as he told her, "We are going to get married once we find a proper ring and a venue. And we'll get a dog as long as it's a real dog and not one of those ratty things. And I'll knock you up as soon as I can, starting tonight. Throw your pills away. What?"
Kennedy had winced involuntarily. "I haven't been on birth control since I decided to walk, Graham. I thought it would help me resist you more."
Graham smiled at her, rolling one nipple between his fingertips then pinching it. "You're on, honey."
"Graham?"
"Yes, honey?"
"If you ever withhold from me again, I won't walk. I'll hurt you. Do you understand?"
"I won't," he promised. "And you are about to be reminded that you need to be open with me. We've wasted some time here, and I don't appreciate doing without when you have been secretly wanting this."
Kennedy said, "Please, babe, can't we call it even?"
"Fifteen, Kennedy," came his answer. "The first five are for shutting me out."
Kennedy didn't resist as Graham released the restraints and rubbed her ankles and wrists to get the blood flowing again. She shuddered as he pulled out the vibe and the wand but went willingly over his lap, his erection stabbing her side. The first five smacks hurt. A lot. But she endured them, feeling Graham's frustration and pain.
"You'll make every effort to be a full part of Nathan's life," Graham announced before he administered another five.
Kennedy began to weep as the strain of the past few weeks started to drain away. She didn't know what the last five spanks were for, but they morphed into arousal, and her pussy wept for Graham. Graham pulled her up and hugged her before pushing her gently onto her back, spreading her legs wide apart as he did so. He moved over her and fitted the head of his cock to her and pushed up inside with one move that filled her and made her gasp. She wrapped herself around him as he began to move against her in deep, heavy strokes. Her release built, and she set her mouth against his shoulder to muffle her cry as she went over. He filled her with his semen, shuddering and groaning as he did so, and pulled her closer, if that were possible, before moving to take some of his weight from her. They lay entwined in silence, their hearts beginning to slow and their breathing subsiding, as one.
The baby monitor spat forth a furious wail. Their son had impeccable timing.
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Allyson Young now lives in cottage country in northern Manitoba with her husband of twenty-three years and assorted pets, having lived and worked all across Canada. Her two children are grown and either away at university or now working for their own living!
Allyson worked primarily in human services and has seen the best and the worst of what people bring to the table. She has written for years, usually short stories or poetry, published in small local papers and the like.
After recently reading a novel by Sophie Oak, she was inspired by the humanity behind the intense sexuality, believing that this is truly how life should be, any kind of loving relationship being worth the long, hard slog. This has led to her own venture of penning erotica.
Also by Allyson Young
Ménage Amour: Away
Available at
BOOKSTRAND.COM
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com

