Under His Control (For His Pleasure, Book 18) (6 page)

Kennedy’s frustration was growing, but she didn’t know what to do about it. If Easton wouldn’t respond to her, about the only thing she could do was to show up at the office and confront him.

Bad idea.

Yes
, she thought.
Bad idea. But he’s leaving me no choice.

Now you’re just talking crazy.

She decided to sleep on it. In any case, she was growing tired. Meeting with Nicole and Riley had taken a lot out of her.

Kennedy got in the bath and tried to just let it all go, all the thoughts of Easton, the fears, the rejection, the loss and humiliation.

She really tried, but her mind kept replaying scenes as if she were in a movie theater and her life was being replayed on a closed loop.

She saw herself holding that damned birth certificate that had changed everything, destroyed her old life in one fell swoop.

Kennedy flashed forward to telling her professors and family and acquaintances that she was quitting MIT and moving to New York to pursue a job in the advertising and marketing industry.

And then, the biggest flash of all—meeting Easton.

Seeing Easton in the darkened hallway that night when he’d made her undress and stand naked in that strange room of that even stranger club.

Easton spanking her in the office.

Easton telling her to take his cock into her mouth.

She was getting excited. She hadn’t been planning it, but somehow, sitting in the warm bath water and thinking of Easton, it had simply crept over her body.

Kennedy thought of him and slowly began to touch herself, imagining Easton’s hand on her, imagining his cock inside of her.

The water splashed softly, lapping the sides of the tub and then lapping faster as she began rubbing her clitoris with urgency, her legs tightening as her feet pushed against the inside of the bathtub.

She pictured Easton sliding his manhood into her, pushing through, and even though Kennedy had never taken a lover before—in that moment, she knew exactly how it would feel.

And it felt amazing, and she was going to come, and God she needed to come.

Needed to release all the tension and angst that had built up inside her.

Just at the pinnacle of her excitement, and the wave of pleasure that was rolling through her body as she readied herself for the inevitable climax, she heard a vague thumping sound.

She sat up in the tub, her feet splashing back down into the water again as she did so.

Now she perked her ears up.

It was knocking. Somebody was at her apartment door.

Easton.

Finally, she thought, he’d gotten her text and decided to just come and see her in person.

And perhaps he’ll come in and then I’ll be glad I didn’t climax, because maybe
he’ll want to finish what we started in Nicole and Red’s bathroom the other night.

Kennedy got quickly out of the tub and threw on her bathrobe. She tied it tight, but not too tight. She left it open enough to reveal the swell of her breasts, enough to perhaps give Easton pause when he understood how little there was between him and her.

Just a bit of cloth, a loose knot that could come undone as easily as unhitching a latch.

She glanced at herself in the mirror as she ran out of the bathroom.

Her hair was slicked back and she had no makeup on, but Kennedy didn’t think it was anything terrible. There was still color in her cheeks, and all in all, she kind of thought it might appear sexy to him.

Or not.

As she swung open the door to her apartment, she momentarily saw Easton’s chiseled face staring at her with want and hunger.

But then she blinked and the face changed back to Blake, which was all it had ever really been. Blake. She blinked a few more times, stunned that it hadn’t even occurred to her that Blake would show up at her door.

“Hey,” he said, grinning wryly. “I guess I caught you in the middle of…something.” His eyes scanned down to her breasts, and she inadvertently cinched her bathrobe tighter around her, clutching the robe closed.

“I was taking a bath,” she said, still out of breath from rushing to the door.

“Remember, I said I’d drop by today?”

“Yes, but I guess I forgot after all,” she told him, unable to hide her disappointment.

He sensed it and his mouth tightened. “Sorry I disturbed you,” he said.

She noticed he was holding a bottle of wine. God, how had she not even noticed that until now? He was wearing a blazer and jeans, and he’d obviously wanted to impress her.

“You brought wine,” she said, holding out her hands.

“May I come in?”

“Sure,” she said, not wanting him to, but feeling she had to let him anyway. She accepted the bottle.

Blake walked inside, while Kennedy went and got two glasses. In her mind, she tried to picture herself telling him that she was tired and not feeling up for wine and conversation, but couldn’t quite bring herself to actually speak the words.

Blake stuffed his hands in his pockets and ambled over to the kitchen. “I can open it if you’d like,” he said.

“No, I can do it,” she replied, suddenly not wanting Blake to do anything for her.

Ever since his angry reaction to the fight that didn’t quite happen with those young men, Kennedy found that her entire opinion of Blake had altered. Maybe it wasn’t fair to judge him based on just that one poor showing, but she did anyway.

Kennedy poured each of them a small glass, not even filling hers half way.

“Cheers,” Blake said, clinking glasses.

“Cheers.” She raised her glass and sipped. The wine wasn’t very good either—

she restrained herself from grimacing as the aftertaste hit her tongue.

Blake sighed. “So, what’s new, Kennedy? Are you looking for work yet?”

“No,” she said, a bolt of annoyance rushing through her. She didn’t like the way Blake was staring at her apartment, smugly holding his wine glass and seeming to ask personal questions as if it was his right to know.

You’re not my boyfriend, Blake
, she thought.

He glanced at her. “Well what’s the plan?”

“I don’t know,” she said, swirling the red wine around in her glass. “Probably just going to read a book and go to sleep.”

He chuckled. “I meant as far as everything with your job and Eaton and Nicole and the rest of it.”

“It’s Easton,” she said, and her tone was a little harsher than perhaps was warranted.

Blake raised his eyebrows. “Sorry, I didn’t know you cared so much how I pronounced his name. Kennedy, the guy treated you like dirt.”

“He didn’t treat me like dirt.” Kennedy put her glass down and walked past him.

“You seem angry with me. Did I do something wrong?”

She ran a hand through her still wet hair. “I’m just tired,” she said. “I was taking a bath when you knocked and I guess I’m a little frazzled.”

Blake scratched his nose, then wiped at his lips. “I feel like we’ve been on the wrong foot ever since I lost my temper with you.”

“It’s fine,” she said. “Really, I think I’m just tired. I probably shouldn’t have even answered the door.”

He blanched. “Wow. Okay.” He shook his head and put his wine glass down.

“Look, I’ll go.”

Then she felt awful, seeing how rejected and forlorn he looked. “No, don’t…Blake, I’m sorry for being rude. Really, I didn’t mean it. Finish your wine, at least.”

He turned to her. “I like you, Kennedy.”

“I like you too.”

He stepped forward. “The thing is, I feel I’ve been patient but I’m not getting any signs about how you feel towards me. Are you interested in your boss still?”

“Of course not,” Kennedy said, her response purely instinctive. The thought of what she’d been doing in the bathtub prior to Blake knocking made her almost laugh out loud like an insane person.

“I hope you’re not,” Blake said. “Because the thought of you letting that jerk use you that way makes me sick.”

“I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. I haven’t even spoken to him.”

Not for lack of trying though.

Suddenly, Blake reached out and caressed her cheek. “You deserve so much more than him,” he said softly. His eyes were soft as he leaned forward to kiss her.

Kennedy put her hands out and stopped him, his chest pressing against her palms as she moved away from the unwanted kiss.

“Blake, I don’t…”

“Shit, I’m an idiot,” he whispered, backing away. His face was pale. “That was obviously not something you wanted from me.”

“I’m just in a weird place right now. I don’t think it’s a good time.”

“But maybe someday you’d want that?” he asked. His expression was pitiful, hopeful and distressed and pained all at once.

Kennedy knew that look. She’d felt that way too many times to count. “Maybe someday,” she lied.

He nodded slowly, as if allowing himself to accept the lie. “Yeah, that makes sense. I get it. I do, really.” He smiled and scratched his nose again. “Maybe I should just go. I’ve done enough damage.”

“You haven’t done any damage, Blake.”

“Listen, I want to take you out again. I don’t expect anything, I just really enjoy your company.”

She sighed. “Sure. Of course.”

God, Kennedy, you wimp. Now you’ve gone and given him hope. What is wrong
with you?

He started backing towards the door. “Maybe the day after tomorrow? Dinner?”

“Let’s not make any definitive plans right now. I’m tired and not in the right place to think about schedules.”

“Okay,” he said, grinning ruefully. “I’ll take the hint.” He opened the door and made as if to leave, but then stopped again.

Oh God
, she thought.
Can’t you just leave already?

His voice became husky. “But I will try again, Kennedy. I have to.”

His eyes met hers and she felt a chill run through her. “I hear you,” she said.

“Loud and clear.”

“Talk soon. And sleep well.” He gave one last smile and then left.

***

Kennedy was restless.

She went and got the wine and poured more of the sour tasting stuff into her glass.

She drank a bit more of it, noticing how it tasted better now that Blake was no longer in the room with her.

She checked her cell, a new wave of frustration and disbelief rushing over her, as she saw no new calls. Then she decided to check her work email, just in case.

Why would he email you at work? He knows you’re fired and you have no good
reason to log in. You’re probably locked out of the system already.

Kennedy was grateful that she’d decided to finally spring for the extra few bucks to get Wi-Fi in her apartment. Otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to do this, but she’d figured it would be necessary to work from home at times and didn’t want to keep going to the café to do so.

Her hands shook ever so slightly from the rush of adrenaline that flooded through her body as she thought about potentially seeing an email from Easton.

You won’t be able to log in. No way. Big companies are notoriously careful to
stop ex-employees from accessing their network.

Except I’m not an ex-employee yet.

You might be. He hasn’t called you yet. That might be because you’ve been fired
already.

As she brought up the login screen for the network, she clenched her teeth, typing in her username and password.

“Please,” she muttered. “Please still work.”

And as if by magic, the login was successful and she was able to check her work email. But immediately her hopes were dashed, as she’d gotten no new emails from Easton.

Kennedy took another sip of wine, letting the burning liquid pass down her throat, warming her and giving her another hit of courage.

Okay, so he didn’t try and email me
, she thought.
No reason he would.

But maybe it’s time that I take things into my own hands. Maybe I still have a
card or two left to play.

This time she tried to access Easton’s work calendar. He’d locked her out of it previously, but a devious voice told her that maybe he’d changed it back to allow her access.

And why would he do that?

Stop asking dumb questions
, she told herself, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she tried to log into his calendar.

Before, she’d been disallowed.

This time, Easton’s calendar popped up. Kennedy sat back, staring at her monitor.

He gave me my access back
, she thought, almost too stunned to continue. But then it occurred to her that Easton Rather never did anything by accident.

If he’d given her access to his personal calendar, that meant he secretly wanted her to know what he was doing and when he was doing it.

There was a reason for this.

You’re being crazy
.
Just stop.

Another large gulp of wine and she was scrolling through his extensive list of meetings and obligations.

When she arrived at the current day, her heart nearly skipped a beat.

Most of the day included Easton’s normal activities. A meeting with Red (about me?), another with the accounts department, lunch with one of the board members. Later that day, he had an interview scheduled with ESPN online, about something to do with a famous client they represented in the sports world, surely.

But it wasn’t the day’s events that made her catch her breath. It was what she found as she scrolled into the nighttime hours.

She’d never before seen Easton put anything on his schedule past six or six-thirty in the evening.

Only now she saw something entered for eleven o’clock that night.

CHURCH SERVICE
.

That was all it said. Church service.

And yet that was everything, wasn’t it? Because she knew what that had to mean, just as Easton would know that she’d understand the reference.

There’s no way he entered that information so you’d see it. How could he know
you’d go and try and look at his schedule after you’d been supposedly fired and locked
out of his calendar?