Mutual Release (45 page)

How in the hell could a guy like him – bossy and overbearing – make her feel like she’d finally found her match? She put a hand on his hair and watched him sleep, memorizing his face, grinning when Buddy the cat started purring from his spot curled against Evan’s side.

Then she heard it again – the distinctive Smartphone ring tone – coming from the vicinity of the living room. She sighed and crawled out of the warm nest of sheets and man, observing Mr. Adams was a very sound sleeper. He hardly moved, even though the sun was streaming in through the large window right in his face.

She wrapped a towel around her naked body and wandered out, seeking the source of the noise. Finally she located his leather bag in the foyer and tugged the device from a side pocket. An Ann Arbor number appeared on the screen, and about ten calls had been made from it in the last thirty minutes. She bit her lip, trying to decide if she should answer.

Finally she made her way back to the bedroom and put the ringing phone to Evan’s ear. He jerked awake, sending the cat to the floor with an unhappy yowl.

“Sorry. You’re being summoned.” She handed it to him and tucked herself back under the covers.

Frowning, he propped up on an elbow. “Hello? Oh sure, put her on.” He flopped back on the pillows, arm over his eyes. She tucked into his side and slid her hand beneath the sheet, loving the warmth of his skin, especially the lower she went. He shifted his hips when she gripped the impressive erection he sported. “Hi Mom,” he said, grinning down at her when she gasped and took her hand off his cock and stuck her tongue out at him.

She sighed with contentment. Her usual knee-jerk response to anything good in her life – to wave it off and think “it won’t last” or “give it a few minutes, something shitty will happen” – didn’t make its usual appearance. She just lay there, running her palm over the light covering of hair on Evan’s chest as he talked, her mind utterly blank.

“Yes, I know. Yes, I did. Thanks. As a matter of fact, she’s right here with me. Want to talk to her?” She looked at him, puzzled, mouthing the word
no
. But he nodded and handed her the phone.

She sat up and took it from him, unsure why the woman even remembered her, much less wanted to talk to her. “Hello, Mrs. Adams. Happy New Year.” She glanced over at Evan who was on his side, up on an elbow watching her, his face unreadable.

“Hello, my dear.” The woman’s voice was strong, confident. “I just wanted to remind you to treat my son extra well today.”

“Oh?” she asked, puzzled. “Why today in particular?” She smacked the hand away which was creeping up the inside of her thigh. He retaliated by tweaking her nipple so hard she squealed. “Oh, no, I’m fine, sorry. Saw a mouse.” She shot him a serious look but nearly dissolved into laughter when she saw him arching his eyebrows at her and holding an unlit candle. “So, anyway, what is so special about today?”

She listened, nodded, kept slapping his hands off her body, then hit the end button and put the phone on the side table. She crossed her arms over her chest and settled her face into an angry expression. He drew away, puzzled. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

“So, I hear we have something to celebrate. You were gonna hold out on me how long with this tidbit?”

“I don’t celebrate birthdays,” he declared as he started to get out of bed.

“Well, that is a shitty attitude, especially considering your damn birthday is on New Year’s Day, and your mother just told me to make it special for you. Hey… I know a great way to start.” She yanked him back, pushed him down and kissed him, loving his taste and feel all over again.

He gripped her hair, and the kiss took on an urgency that matched how his body rose to the occasion, pressing against her in a way that made her sigh into his mouth before breaking away to stare at him. Dear God, she was doomed. He was amazing. She would have to guard her heart very carefully. But in the meantime…

“Birthday blow job, coming up!”

* * * *

Evan sat sipping orange juice and watching Julie stretch, as she prepped for a run on the beach. He shivered, realizing he was on the verge of something that felt permanent, even as his brain shied away from it. In all his various and odd hookups, when he’d determined he couldn’t deny his own need to dominate, not once had he had this strange, quivery feeling in his gut. Yes, he was possessive of the women he messed around with, but nothing had consumed him like this.

Julie Dawson had become something to him he had only heard about – a soul mate – one who could very possibly kill him. He smiled as she bent over, stretching out her long, lean hamstrings, then he walked over and ran a hand across her Lycra-clad ass, loving how his body responded to her. Jesus, but he wanted her again, right now, like this, in front of the entire fucking world. He shoved the caveman away and gave her a healthy smack, making her jump, and fill his nose with the familiar aroma of her desire.

“Like that, don’t you, Daredevil?” he said mildly, sipping and keeping his palm on her hip. He needed to find a jewelry store and had to make some calls to set up tonight’s program. She was here, with him, and they were alone for a couple more days. And he had a plan of action which might backfire, but one that, if he got his way, would end all this stupid dancing around the fact of the matter: they were meant to be together. “Go on, get your run in. I have some shit to do.”

She kept her ass in the air, bending over one leg then the other.

“Stop teasing me,” he said, using his best “I mean it” tone. She wiggled her hips in response. “You really are something else altogether, aren’t you?” And she was. A textbook submissive when prompted, working her slow way towards trusting him, but a firebrand independent bitch by nature. He sighed, then wandered back inside, worried for his sanity, but never more certain of what he truly wanted. The conflict rolled around in him making his head pound and his stomach churn.

He dropped into a chair just inside the main room and watched her stick earbuds in her ears and take off down the beach. By the time she was a small dot on the horizon, he dropped his eyes to the phone he’d been clutching. Evan had never felt his loner status more keenly than at that moment. He wished he were the sort of person to reach out, to call someone, likely Jack, to bounce this whole thing off him. But he wasn’t. He reflected Julie was the same in many ways – she had no close girlfriends he’d met or heard about. Just her, her job, her trusty assistant… oh, well, and her husband, of course.

He smiled when Buddy, the cat with his bum leg and a half-chewed ear, took up his newly staked claim to Evan’s lap. He’d never had pets growing up and hadn’t really missed it, but he already knew he liked this animal. Appreciated its simultaneous independence and neediness.

Evan rubbed the cat’s one good ear, gritting his teeth at the memory of how frantically furious he’d been the day he figured out what Julie had done. He had not even thought twice about contacting James, and once Julie’s legal husband had been reassured Evan was not some murderous stalker, he’d been delighted to hear about their budding relationship. The two men had talked for almost thirty minutes and ended with James’ instructions on how to find the condo caretaker to let him in so he could surprise her.

James’ last words had sent a chill down his spine. “I like you, Evan. You sound like the sort of man Julie needs and could love. But please know I will never allow her to be hurt again, by anyone. Don’t be that guy. And all will be well.”

Evan had stifled the urge to ask why the hell the two of them stayed married in the eyes of the law. It made him more than a little uncomfortable and was something he was going to want remedied sooner rather than later. No matter how platonic that relationship was or why it started, he had no interest in sharing her in any way, shape, or form.

His phone buzzed, and he smiled when he saw it was the club he’d contacted yesterday on his way down here. He had something to give Julie, something that required ceremony in a the proper setting. He’d reserved their spots at
Caliente
, one of the most exclusive BDSM-lifestyle destinations in the entire United States, located in a building that boasted a five-star restaurant, a giant dance club, several stories of million-plus-dollar condos, and a giant spa. But the ten-thousand-square-foot basement was where he and Julie were headed tonight, after his appointment at Tiffany’s.

As if reading his thoughts, Buddy jumped down and sat, tail twitching with a look of “you sure about this, bro?” in his feline eyes.

* * * *

The long run gave Julie plenty of time to think. As she slowed to a jog, then a walk on her way back up the beach, she was surprised to find herself in the grip of a very strong urge to sit down and cry. So much of her yearned to be near Evan all the time – hell, she’d even admit she was getting to where she
required
it to keep some sort of personal equilibrium. And while she was beginning to understand that dynamic, acceptance was still a long way off. She had never
required
the presence of another person to make her happy. Even as a little girl she’d preferred playing alone, reading or making up elaborate stories in her head, and acting them out in whatever crappy apartment she and mother occupied at the time.

Keeping people at arm’s length was her specialty. Men in particular, thanks to her early trauma and knee-jerk instinct not to trust anyone. But Mr. Adams had marched into her office, and her life, with his six-pack of beer and irresistible personality. And now she was a weepy, clingy, borderline sex-crazed mess. A tiny thrill of anger lit her brain. How had he done it to her? And what would happen when he was through and ready to move on to the next “submissive” who crossed his path?

She looked down when she realized her hands hurt from clenching her fingers so tightly at the thought of her man in anyone else’s arms. Shaking her head as she walked up to the condo patio, she put her palms on the cool tile wall around the pool and commanded herself to get a firm grip. He was not “hers” in any way. He was a hot guy, currently obsessed with having sex with her in ways she’d never experienced. Period.

Her inner self-preservationist was sending all sorts of messages of the “keep your emotional distance” kind. He wouldn’t be around long. She determined not to let her need for him show, even if he pulled another Dom act. Giving in or up, or letting go, or whatever the hell it was he wanted from her could be faked. And she would do it – she had to – or risk getting her newly tender heart ripped in two.

She squeezed her eyes shut ignoring a new and highly annoying buzz of warning. Evan would never accept anything but a hundred percent of her heart and soul. And he’d know from a mile away if she was faking.

Sighing, she kicked off her running shoes, stripped down to her skin, and dove into the deep end of the pool. It was only about eighty degrees outside but James had made sure the caretaker cranked up the pool heater, stocked the fridge and bar, and God knows what else – oh, yeah, let Evan just come on in to meet her. She stroked through several laps trying to exhaust herself and her clanging brain. It didn’t work, although by the time she hung on to the side of the pool, breathing heavily, she had at least made peace with her resolve: she would not let Evan Adams get to her.

She’d have fun with him, sure, but the rest of it had to come to a screeching halt. No matter how badly she never wanted it to end. It was a matter of survival – hers. She hauled herself out of the pool and stumbled inside for food and a shower with a heavy heart, but a clear mind.

Chapter Thirteen

Julie watched as Evan fiddled with his beer glass, adjusted his tie, and kept looking out onto the dance floor. A slow-moving something she finally pinned down and identified as jealous fury built in her chest when she followed his gaze to the mass of people and saw some slutty chick with long black hair, dressed in leather pants and a halter top, shaking her skank groove thing while staring right back at Julie’s man.

The whole evening was off, somehow. He’d been quieter than usual when he got back from his mysterious errand, but came bearing yet another killer dress – dark maroon this time, scandalously short, with a sexy low-cut neckline perfect for her figure – so she’d left him alone with his brooding for a few hours.

She did some work, evaluating sales numbers for the last quarter, while Evan stared at football on the television. She’d look up every now and then to comment on the action. After his initial surprise at her interest and knowledge about the game, he got quiet again, so she resumed ignoring him. Actually, the alone time was good for her even in his presence. But the second she realized that, she glanced up and caught him staring at her with a look of wonder on his face. She leaned on her elbows and stared back.

“What are you thinking about right now, tell me, quick, without letting your brain tell you what you should say,” he’d demanded, his voice low.

“I’m thinking that I should cut at least four breweries out of my book, hire two more warehouse workers, go ahead and upgrade my inventory computer system and…” She’d tapped her fingernail against her teeth. “Oh, yeah, that I need to send my new sales guys to Cicerone – you know, ‘beer expert’ – training, buy a new printer for the business office, and make my reservations for the National Beer Fest before all the good Denver hotels get booked.”