Under His Control (For His Pleasure, Book 18) (9 page)

“Kennedy,” he said, his hand starting to reach for her.

She walked faster, practically sprinting away from him. “Blake, please—I don’t want to discuss this any further.”

“Listen, can’t you just hang on for one second?”

But she was already going down the stairs. “No, I can’t,” she called back, her face flushed, sweat starting to prickle her forehead.

By the time she got out to the street she was angrier than ever. Now she realized she’d been correct that Blake was keeping his door open in order to spy on her comings and goings.

Who did he think he was, anyway?

She determined to keep her distance from him from now on and shut down further conversational attempts on his part. She had Easton, the last thing she needed was somebody like Blake trying to poison her against the man she was dedicating herself to.

Eventually, she calmed down. By the time she got to the office, she had practically forgotten all about Blake. He was just a little fish, and she had much, much bigger fish to fry.

After all, Easton was waiting for her, and he’d certainly be watching her now.

When Kennedy arrived, Easton was already in his office with the door closed, talking on the phone. She could hear his voice, muffled, coming through the door as she entered the suite and put her things down on her desk.

It was funny how easy it was to come back after thinking she’d been fired.

She slipped back into the job as comfortably as putting on a pair of heels.

Everything fit, everything was right, and Kennedy was humming to herself as she made a cup of coffee.

When would the training begin? She wondered, sitting down at her computer and checking her email.

Easton had sent her some files to print out and make copies of for some office meeting later that day. Simple, routine stuff, but it made her feel valuable.

She had work to do—that was enough for now.

Besides
, Kennedy reminded herself,
Easton already told you that Red gave him a
strict warning to knock off the funny stuff.

They had to pretend to be completely professional at all times while on the job.

No hanky panky.

But just knowing that there was more made it all so delicious and wrong, yet completely right at the same time.

Kennedy got to the task at hand, making the copies and then putting them in binders. As she was doing so, Easton emerged from his office, slipping on his suit jacket.

“Morning,” he said.

She turned and smiled at him. Her senses were buzzing, heightened. “Good morning to you,” she replied. “Just a few more minutes on those copies you asked for.”

Easton nodded. “Great. Leave them on the break room table when you’re finished.”

“Anything else you need?”

Easton’s eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second. Kennedy’s heart began beating faster. Her question had multiple meanings, and she hadn’t intended that to happen. For a long moment, the question seemed to hang in the air between them.

But then Easton buttoned his suit jacket and the tension dissipated. “I recorded a few meetings from the last few days and I’ll need you to take dictation on those when you’re done with the binders. The recorder is on my desk, you can go ahead and grab it—start at the beginning. Make them into meeting minutes and distribute accordingly.”

“I’ll get right to it.”

“Good.” He stared into her eyes for longer than seemed strictly necessary.

Nicole felt her nipples harden again. “I’m so glad to be back,” she said.

“I’m heading out of the office for a bit,” he told her. “See you when I return.”

She was disappointed that he didn’t tell her where he was going. “Okay, see you then.”

He turned and left the suite and Kennedy’s spirits sank. She knew it was immature of her to have wanted him to say something else, something more. He hadn’t even said that it was good to have her back. In fact, nothing much had changed between them except that Easton really was intent on keeping things professional in the office.

And no further instructions had been sent.

Maybe he’s having second thoughts
.

The idea terrified her. She hurried to his office and retrieved the small recording device he’d mentioned. Before listening to it, Kennedy considered the possibility that this recording device in actuality contained the “instructions” that Easton had indicated she would be receiving from him.

But then she pressed play and the dull, droning voices of a typical office meeting began coming out of the speaker.

It really was just basic dictation after all.

Her spirits had fallen lower than before, and Kennedy was truly crestfallen. She just hoped Easton hadn’t taken back his offer from yesterday. She would do anything to keep him interested, if he’d only give her half a chance.

She sat down and began typing out the meeting minutes, her eyes glassy and faraway, her fingers typing as if they had a mind of their own.

***

Easton hadn’t returned, and hours had passed.

Meanwhile, Kennedy’s imagination had begun running wild. She’d started picturing Easton going back to the club to find that horrible blonde woman. Perhaps they were already laughing together about that pitiful virgin who’d tried to steal him away.

She’d even started to fantasize about the blonde woman sucking Easton’s cock, and Easton moaning with pleasure, telling her how skilled she was and how right he’d been to go back to her instead of attempting to teach a silly virgin how to do these things.

Kennedy was right in the middle of her awful fantasy when a text came through her cell phone.

It buzzed on the desk next to her and she jumped a little.

Grabbing the phone, she looked at it, blinking her eyes to make sure it was real.

The text was from Easton.

On your lunch break go to H&R Restaurant. Be there @ 12:15 sharp. No
excuses.

Kennedy reread the text at least ten times before responding, just to make sure she hadn’t hallucinated it.

She wondered if maybe this was something work-related, but knew it was impossible. This was part of the other thing. And it made total sense, because on lunch break, they would technically be out of the office.

The rules didn’t apply unless they were at work.

Her heart was hammering a steady beat in her ribcage, and she was flushed with excitement and anxiety. She only had twenty minutes to get there in time, and she didn’t even know were the restaurant was located.

Checking Google, she found that it was only a few minutes walk.

Just in case, she decided to leave the office immediately and get close enough to be sure to enter the restaurant at exactly the appointed time.

The entire way over, as she walked, Kennedy tried to prepare herself mentally.

Anything he asks, you must do it. If he wants you to put his cock in your mouth and suck it, you have to do it, even though you’re scared and have no experience. If he wants to fuck you, take your virginity—

At the restaurant
? She thought.
That doesn’t even make sense. How would he
take my virginity inside a busy Manhattan restaurant?

It doesn’t matter
, she told herself.
The point is, you need to be ready, Kennedy.

This is serious. Don’t screw this up.

Focused now, she made her way to the corner across the street from H&R

Restaurant, a modern looking place with a line already extending out the door. The people in line were the well-dressed, fancy people she associated with the very finest city establishments.

She wondered what Easton had in mind for her. Why now, why this particular place? Maybe he literally just wanted to have lunch together, perhaps to tell her that he’d reconsidered his offer from last night.

Kennedy bit her lip, resisted the urge to bite her nails.

Finally, she checked her cell and it was time to cross the street and go inside the restaurant. She pushed past the other waiting customers, excusing herself sheepishly as she did so. When she got to the front of the line, a hostess turned to ask Kennedy if she had a reservation.

But when they made eye contact, Kennedy drew a sharp inhalation and the hostess’s eyes widened as if she’d just seen a ghost.

It was the naked blonde woman from the club, the one who’d insulted Kennedy.

Only now the blonde was wearing a black dress and a nametag that said Vera.

Vera’s mouth opened and closed.

Kennedy didn’t know what this meant, but she straightened her spine and refused to back down. “I think you know what to do, Vera,” Kennedy told her.

Vera seemed to want to say something snappy and mean in return, but in the end she simply spun on her heel and stalked off towards the back of the restaurant.

Not long after, Kennedy saw Easton threading his way through the room, his eyes on hers. She tried to read his expression but came up with nothing—he was wearing an enigmatic poker face.

“Glad to see you made it on time,” he said, his voice light, yet somehow carrying an underlying menace—as if he’d expected her to fail even at being punctual.

“Of course,” Kennedy replied, feeling suddenly defensive. “And imagine my happy surprise to see an old face greeting me at the door.”

Easton gestured for her to walk with him. “You’ll find that I’m full of surprises,”

he said, taking her by the elbow as they went.

The heat from his hand caused a shot of electricity to rocket up her elbow and into her entire body, making her flush and a little dizzy.

“Are we eating?” she asked.

“Don’t press me,” he warned. He gave her a sidelong glance. “You’ll find out why you’re here soon enough.”

“Of course. I’m sorry.”

They walked to the rear of the restaurant and then went down a flight of stairs together, where there were even more seats filled with chatty patrons. Easton stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned to her. He stepped closer, his lips now just inches from the side of her face. “I want you to walk into the ladies’ room on the left, and immediately undress. Put your clothes on the floor next to you and turn your back to the door. Do not leave, do not get dressed--don’t try to hide in a stall. I want you to remain there until I come for you. No questions.” He pulled his shirt cuff slightly and adjusted his suit jacket and then walked away, back up the stairs.

Kennedy was in a state of shock. She’d tried to mentally prepare herself to give away her control, but she’d expected it to be to him. Directly to Easton.

You have to trust him, Kennedy. Remember the deal?

But this—this is different. What if he’s going to humiliate me in front of Vera, the
bitchy hostess who he brought to his private club? Maybe this is some game he’s playing
with the two of us.

It doesn’t matter. You have to do it.

She resisted. Already, she sensed her own failure. She hadn’t moved fast enough, and surely Easton would be aware of it. She was scattered, anxious, sweating and panicky.

I don’t want to do this after all. I should just leave.

No. Get in there. This is your chance to really live—take a risk. Take a damn
risk, Kennedy.

Or would you rather go slinking back to Cambridge and MIT, working on dull
class lectures in some stuffy office? That’s where you’re headed if you chicken out now.

The last thought impacted her enough to get her legs moving.

She shuffled into the women’s room, her mind racing, and as she peered under the stalls, she saw no telltale signs of anyone else in the bathroom. But she also knew it wouldn’t be long before someone did come in.

You’re going to be arrested.

The certainty of it, the craziness of what she was doing, knowing it was going to end badly for her—should have put a stop to the whole enterprise.

But it didn’t.

Kennedy quickly took off her blouse, letting it drop to the tiled bathroom floor, feeling the cool air against her shoulders as a breeze drifted down from the vents overhead. She could smell everything—the fresh scent of soap, the tang of disinfectant, and beneath all of that, the distant scents of urine and fecal matter.

Kennedy’s nose wrinkled.

She took off her skirt, and then removed her bra and panties too.

This is so wrong. How dare he? How dare he?

Her mind was shouting now at top volume.

Kennedy tried to ignore it, willing herself to push beyond the boundaries of what her intellect thought was right or logical or fair.

She was completely naked, her clothes and shoes in a pathetic little pile next to her, and she finally turned her back to the door. She stared at the far wall, and the small abstract painting that hung there. It looked like a baby had thrown a batch of watercolors at a canvas and then someone had sold it to a place looking for so-called modern art.

Kennedy realized how odd it was that she was busy critiquing a painting in this bathroom when she was standing naked in the center of it, and likely about to be dragged out in handcuffs.

How long will he make me stand here?

Her legs jittered, her hands clenched so hard that her nails dug into her sweaty palms.

Trust him. Just trust him.

Last time he’d asked her to stand naked and wait, she’d gotten anxious and started getting dressed and he’d been incredibly angry with her.

This time she intended to not be so impulsive.

But she was scared, too. The restaurant was incredibly busy. It was a minor miracle that someone hadn’t walked in on her yet. Kennedy could practically hear the scream as some unfortunate woman caught sight of Kennedy’s bare buttocks.

What if a little girl comes in?

That thought startled her.
I could end up involuntarily exposing myself to
someone who’ll be traumatized. I could hurt someone else by doing this.

Easton must be insane to think that this is something I would do. I can’t even
believe I was dumb enough to trust him. He’s a maniac. An egomaniacal maniac.