In these thoughts, Slany took some comfort.
"You said we'd talk, Nick," she said. She couldn't hold it in any longer.
Nick calmly nodded, his placidity making her more anxious instead of otherwise.
"Does it have anything to do with why you were freaking out about my security earlier?"
"I wasn't 'freaking out.'"
"You know what I mean."
He just stared at her, and Slany's heart stopped at the idea of another spanking so soon after the last one. As it was, she was fidgeting in her seat, even with the extra cushion he had brought from the sofa to put on the kitchen chair.
"I want you to move in with me,” he said.
Okay, don't blow up, girl. Take a deep breath, and let's analyze whether or not that was
an order from an arrogant, overbearing Dominant, or a request driven by a man's sincere need
and wish to have you near.
Nick gently squeezed her fingers. "Slany?"
"I'm thinking about it."
"There's nothing to think about. I want you with me, where I can keep an eye on you."
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Terms of Surrender
"Gee, you make such a romantic proposal," she murmured, and could have sworn she saw him blanch. Just like a man. Mention marriage, love, or any variation thereof, and they wanted to turn tail and run away.
Slany snatched her hand out of his and lurched to her feet, running towards the living room before he could stop her.
She paused at the door, unlocked, and flung it open. "I want you to leave."
Nick stood several feet away, arms folded across his chest, and damned if his superhero pose didn't make her vagina quiver.
Don't you just hate when that happens?
"Unless you can pick me up and throw me out, I 'm not going anywhere."
"Isn't that just like a man to throw around his superior weight and strength?"
"You know better than that." He advanced. The muscles in his jaw worked as he clenched and gritted his teeth.
"I know no such thing." Her voice trembled, and she mentally cursed her weakness.
Nick pried her hand from the doorknob and firmly closed the door.
"That doesn't change anything." Slany pivoted to leave, didn't know where she was going, didn't know how to get away from him without leaving her own damn house because as she knew he would, the man followed her, instantly on her heels. She whirled on him. "You're not giving me another beating," she said.
"If I thought it was necessary, I would. But I'm trying to avoid that and appeal to your common sense and logic, Slany."
What were those? She didn't
have
common sense and logic where this man was concerned. She seemed to have forfeited each the night she'd gone home with a relative stranger and let him handcuff her to a bed while he'd fucked her senseless, and she'd enjoyed it.
She knew that wasn't exactly true. There was nothing strange about Nick to her.
Her heart knew him, knew he wouldn't hurt her. At least, not intentionally.
"Slany, will you listen to reason?"
"You haven't said anything that sounds reasonable to me yet. Just made some out-of-the-blue command for me to move in with you."
"It wasn't a command." He leaned in to brush his lips across her brow, and Slany shivered beneath his tenderness. "It was a request."
She peered up into his eyes and saw the affection and sincerity there, and right below these, something else that startled her: fear. "A request?"
He nodded, lips pressed together in a grim line as he pulled her close. "But make no mistake about it, if I have to, I'll take you kicking and screaming to my house and have your friend Peyton bring the stuff you'll need to function later on."
"Let me go." Slany pushed against him and came up against a stone fortress in his encompassing arms and chest.
175
Gracie C. McKeever
"No."
"Nick, please…"
"This isn't up for negotiation."
"Bastard," she grumbled.
"I'll be that. I'll be anything you want me to be, if it'll keep you safe."
"Safe from what!"
He looked at her, and she had an instant to see the fear again before he wiped his expression clean.
"Nick, you're scaring me."
"Good. You should be scared." He released her at this, took her by a hand, and led her to the sofa. "Sit."
She did, glancing up at him as he paced in front of her, leashed power and energy punctuating his every step and making him look like the proverbial panther on the prowl. The lean muscles of his chest and back rippled, his sectioned abdominal muscles tensed, hands clenched into fists at his sides.
He came back to crouch before her, took her hands in his. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm not trying to scare you, and I'm sorry."
"There's obviously something for me to be concerned about, if not outright terrified."
"I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
Seeing this side of him, his alarm and determination, made Slany soften. She put a palm against a lightly whiskered cheek. "Tell me, Nick. It's going to be okay."
He closed his eyes and sighed.
Slany's heart jumped when he next opened them to stare at her before proceeding to tell her about that weird phone call he'd gotten, what he thought had happened to Kate and another former co-worker in New Jersey, and flipped Slany's world on its ear.
Her throat suddenly turned dry, and she found it hard to breathe, but licked her lips to try and circulate the saliva and get her lungs and vocal cords to work again. "Do you hear what you just said?"
"I know what it sounds like."
"It sounds like some freaky serial killer is stalking you, and by default, stalking me."
He caught her by the shoulders. "I'm. Not. Going. To. Let. Anything. Happen. To. You.
Understand me?"
"Is that what you said to Kate and Lorraine?" she asked, and immediately regretted it when she saw the devastated look on Nick's face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."
"Kate and Lorraine were just acquaintances compared to you. I didn't feel a quarter of the things for them that I feel for you."
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Terms of Surrender
She wanted to be excited he had come so close to saying the all-encompassing words, but right now, their importance paled in comparison to what he and she were discussing—that someone was threatening her life, threatening both of them.
How could she doubt him under the circumstances?
"Nick…"
He looked at her.
"Ashton…he, uh…made a pass at me on the way back from Buffalo."
"What?"
"I'm sorry, Nick. It's just that I'm used to handling my own battles, and I just didn't think anything of it until—"
"You should have told me."
"I'm telling you now."
"Don't be a smart ass."
"My ass already smarts. Perish the thought."
"With good reason." He smiled, and Slany couldn't help grinning back, despite her ass smarting. She'd be the first to admit she'd deserved it.
"So, my moving in with you is all part of your securing me from this…" She didn't want to say killer, wanted to hold out hope that Kate and Lorraine were still somehow alive, as remote as the possibility. "Stalker?"
"Not entirely." Nick buried his face in her crotch and wrapped his arms around her waist, deeply inhaling her silk kimono-covered pussy. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you, Slany. I
can't
lose you."
Slany swallowed over the lump in her throat. She seemed to be doing a lot of this lately.
She buried her hands in his wavy hair, reveling in the contrasts of hard, strong, indomitable man in her lap, at her feet, and baby-soft silken curls beneath her fingers. "You won't lose me, Nick," she whispered, "and I won't lose you, either."
177
Gracie C. McKeever
Took a big chance going into her office only several minutes before she was due to
arrive, but so much easier to leave a hard-copy than an e-mail, even if it meant breaking and
entering. Skills were good, but could never be considered a computer whiz, and e-mails could be
traced. What was left was not as easily traceable.
Watching them come in this morning together was enough to make the stomach turn,
especially seeing how clingy the slut was, draped over Nick like a cheap stole.
Pacing in the stairwell several steps away, waiting for her reaction, because it promised
to be memorable once she got a look at the present left for her: a subtle, but powerful message.
But she didn't go into her office, not for long, not long enough to see it. She left with Nick,
her musky, cloying scent in her wake.
Damn!
Leaving the stairwell and heading towards the office to peek inside and ensure no one
was there, that she had, indeed, left. Turning to leave when someone bumps—
"Oh, hey, Jeremy! What's up?" Yvette brightly greeted.
"Just dropping off some mail."
"This early?"
"I had some stuff left over from the weekend, and I wanted to get a head start."
"Oh, like me. I was about to drop something in Her Highness' box, too. Have you seen her around yet?"
"I think I saw her in Nick's office. I'm surprised you missed them."
"They must have gone in while I was away from my desk." Yvette said, then smirked.
"They sure spend a lot of time in closed-door meetings, if you ask me. But…" She leaned close for a conspiratorial whisper, "we all know what kind of meetings are going on."
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Terms of Surrender
Jeremy frowned, didn't like what she was insinuating, even if he already knew it was true.
It was one of the main reasons he had hurried along his plans just a little. He wanted to get the bitch out of his way so he could have his shot, at least to speak to Nick. He was sure if the man didn't have the distraction of an oversexed whore sniffing after him, he might have time to notice someone else who really cared about his welfare.
Okay, he happened to be a man, but in his heart, he knew that wouldn't make a difference, that given a chance, he could make Nick love him as much as he loved Nick.
"I'm sure whatever they're doing in there is none of our concern." His tone must have been more biting than he'd intended, because Yvette stiffened and glared at him.
Jeremy rushed to apologize, didn't want to raise her suspicions or make an enemy of Nick's secretary. No telling when he'd need her again.
He put a hand on her shoulder, creating an instant moment of camaraderie, just two girlfriends hanging. "Don't mind me, 'Vette. I had a long weekend with the family." He dramatically rolled his eyes at this, knew how to turn on the flaming charm factor when he had to. "You know how those get-togethers can be, honey."
"Oh yeah. I've got crazy relatives of my own." She chuckled, returned his gesture with a hand on his shoulder before turning for the office.
He'd hidden his little surprise well, for the slut's eyes only, so he wasn't worried about Yvette spotting it unless she started digging around. She had no reason to, despite Jeremy knowing she disliked Ms. Shit-Doesn't-Stink as much as he did.
She came out seconds later, hooking an arm in one of his. "Let's go down to your area for some coffee and gossip."
Jeremy smiled. It was easier than chewing nails. "Oh, honey, I thought you'd never ask."
* * * *
Love did that to a person.
But not to him. He was too organized, too controlled, too
smart
to let love rule him, to let love make him weak and vulnerable to the vagaries of so dangerous and unstable an emotion. He would not let love change his plans, or make him drop his veil to the world and come out of the shadows until he was good and ready.
No one in this office had any inkling how he felt about Slany or knew the things he wanted to
do
to her.
But the same could not be said for Vega. Everyone knew what he and Slany were doing in his office. Everyone knew what was going on between them.
Slut, whore, BITCH!
And Jeremy Keyes… He shook his head, smiling for the first time all morning with the knowledge of his little secret, of the events he had set in motion with his meticulous planning and organization and patience.
179
Gracie C. McKeever
Everyone knew that little fag was in love with Vega, and if they didn't, then they were as blind as the object of Jeremy's misplaced affection.
Sure, Mr. Italian Stallion was good looking, and perhaps had he been born female, he would give Vega a second look, could see the attraction.
Admittedly, he admired Vega to an extent, had thought once or twice about acquiring him directly, as he had acquired Ron Wells, just for fun.
But that had been before he'd discovered Vega had specialized military training, and he realized that it would have been far more troublesome than it was worth to take him.
He'd put himself up against any man, any day, but the Marines and that large close-knit Italian family made Vega a bad risk, too much work.
He already had one bulldog father on his trail that he had to take care of.
Besides, it was easier taunting Vega with the women they both knew, much more fun watching Vega squirm in the glow of
his
power and knowledge.
Soon, Vega would know exactly who was taunting him and why. Soon, he and Slany would know the passion and dedication of a real Dominant.
And they would tremble in his wake.
* * * *
She'd thought by now, after being up under each other's feet constantly all weekend, he'd have started to show some signs of tiring of her, or he would have gotten on her nerves, but neither was the case yet.
As promised, he'd taken her to his house, sans the kicking-and-screaming part and Peyton bringing over what she'd need, and she'd been there ever since.
He'd allowed her to pack the essentials (of course, he didn't think clothes and pajamas were essential, but she'd managed to slip in a couple of T-shirts and thongs with some outfits for work) before driving back to his place, where he promptly packed up his tools and locks to take back to Slany's house.