Unleashed: Declan & Kara (Unleashed #1-4; Beg for It #1) (39 page)

Now the world actually
was my oyster. Richer than I’d ever dreamed and now Kara had walked
back into my life and agreed to give herself to me for a week. I had
everything I’d ever yearned for. I should be licking my chops,
satisfied as a rich man at a lavish Christmas dinner. But here I was
all worked up, unable to sleep, forced out of my apartment, torqued
up and pacing, all over some girl? Any second now, I could feel it, I
would start dreaming of her and me. I’d start smiling and humming.

I’d hated Harlan at
the time. But he was right. He’d been back then, and he was right
now. I wasn’t the man for her.

Even now that I had the
money, I wasn’t the full package. I was a broken man. I’d never
be the picket fence dad fussing over the BBQ with the neighbors and
their kids over for Sunday after church. I didn’t play that way.
And the way I actually played, real down dirty and nasty? Kara might
pretend, but she didn’t play that way either. We were still living
in different worlds, her and me. Kara belonged married and tucked
away in a snug little cabin, wrapped in sweetness and love, expecting
a new baby to make three. And here I was spanking the fuck out of her
and planning to do more, much more.

Six years ago I’d
done the right thing. I’d cut things off, left her without hope and
without a trace. It had been hard. It had torn me up, if I had to be
honest about it. But what had got me through was I knew it was the
best thing for her.

There was no getting
around it, ending it would be the best thing for her this time
around, too. I didn’t want to give her up. I wanted to keep her
with me, hold her tight. But even now I could tell one week wouldn’t
be enough. I was a possessive madman and I’d drag this thing out,
beat it into the ground until she was dying to get away from me. I’d
ruin her, dragging her into my dark world of submission and
domination for pleasure.

And then I knew what
would happen. Inevitably, our differences would surface. I’d get
frustrated. She’d get hurt. We were cut from different cloths and
she might want to make a quilt out of it all, but it wouldn’t work.
It would end, slowly, painfully, with massive damage and wreckage.
This time around the crash-and-burn would be of epic proportions.

But there was no way it
would work between us, not the way she’d want. I wasn’t the
Christmas sweater, baseball in the backyard with our kids type of
guy. I’d never known my father. My junkie of a mother had passed
away two years ago. An overdose, no one there to help her, she’d
died alone. I had no brothers or sisters, at least that I knew of. I
literally had no family and no experience of it, either. You didn’t
grow up like I did and then just flip a switch. You learned things
over time, commitment, responsibility, intimacy, the sacrifices
parents made to create a stable, loving home. Or you learned the
opposite. Once you’d seen all the darkness life could bring, I
didn’t see any way over into the light. I simply wasn’t capable
of it. I’d gone through the last 27 years a lone wolf. I’d go
through however many more stretched out in front of me the exact same
way.

Playing games with Kara
was too fucking dangerous. I didn’t play with fire. I did
controlled burns, when I could see the exact path it would take and
knew precisely how and when I could put it out. You had to know when
to let the beast out of the cage. I wouldn’t do it anymore, not
with Kara. My hard, aching cock? I’d find someone wet, willing and
ready to take care of all of my needs. Someone who’d walk away the
next morning and I wouldn’t give her a second thought.

I would end this now,
terminating our agreement. I would write Kara a check and leave it
out on the kitchen island. Later in the morning, by the time she woke
up I’d already be out at the office. She’d take her money and
run.

Because Kara was only
sticking around for my money, anyway. If I didn’t have that, she
wouldn’t be here. I’d be a forgotten memory, some ranch hand who
got her off one summer.

I was used to women
wanting me for my money. It made things simple. They liked the money
first and foremost, and they liked my power inside and outside the
bedroom. It was enough to keep a steady stream of them coming,
literally and figuratively. Somehow with Kara, though, the thought
twisted in my guts. It made me feel scooped out and hollow.

Since when did I care
about shit like that? My innermost thoughts and feelings? Fuck that.
Too much depth dragged you down. Shallow was just fine for me.

The solution was always
there, you just had to have the balls to find it. And stick to it
once you had. We weren’t going to New York tomorrow. I was ending
this bargain.

Six years ago I’d
done the right thing. Now, I’d do it again. It would be hard, but I
could do it. Hell, people cut off their own limbs and lived to tell
the tale. Life was pain.

I’d end this
arrangement. I’d give her the money she needed, no strings
attached. It had to end with Kara. Because that girl was kryptonite.

Kara

I woke up early Monday
morning in Declan’s king-size bed, buzzing and humming. Not with my
usual type of activity, the urgency of getting to work, the daily
need to Get Stuff Done. This was different. This buzz came from
within, my mind and my body.

Part of it was because
I was about to go to New York City. Declan and I were going to fly
there today. I’d been on a plane exactly twice in my life. The
biggest city I’d ever spent time in was Boise, and now I was off to
The Big Apple!

But the other part of
it, the real reason for my buzz if I were completely honest, was what
we’d be doing while we were there. Sure, we’d do some sightseeing
and that would be super fun. He’d mentioned a black tie gala at the
Met. He might as well be taking me on a space shuttle trip to Mars
for all I knew about it. I had no idea what to expect, but I bet it
would be amazing.

But really, we would be
in New York to fulfill our bargain. We’d spend the week drowning in
debauched sex. I’d serve him, doing whatever he wanted, submitting
to his discipline, bound to Declan. I had a feeling he’d been going
easy on me last night, having me dress up as a French maid, making me
work for him. It made my knees buckle, but I knew he had much more in
store for me, much darker fantasies.

I should be freaking
out. I should be packing up my things and planning my escape. I
shouldn’t be slick between my thighs, thinking about how much I
loved his punishments. Stretching between the sheets, I looked down
and remembered I was wearing Declan’s t-shirt and boxers. They
smelled like him. I inhaled, deep, and like an animated film I could
almost see myself surrounded and intoxicated by the aroma, as if a
sorcerer were working a magic spell on me. I thrummed and tingled and
that ache began again deep inside of me.

Last night he’d had
me begging for him, out of my mind, squirming and panting as I wore
next to nothing pressed up against his massive mahogany desk. The
cool, hard wood had bitten into the exposed flesh of my soft ass as
I’d offered myself to him. I’d kept my palms on either side of me
on the desk as I let him stroke and caress my skin. His fingers had
slid in and out of my pussy so slick, so easy. I’d never been so
ready.

He’d made me say
dirty things for him, tell him how I was wet for him and beg him to
let me come. No man had ever done anything like that to me before. I
never could have imagined doing it, never mind loving it, craving it.
I’d felt so out of control, hurtling downward on a roller coaster,
the rush and thrill of it overwhelming every thought until all I
could do was put my hands up and scream.

And then he’d sent me
into the bath, telling me I could play with myself. But in his
gravelly, commanding voice, he’d said, “You may not come. You
only come for me.” Oh my. I fanned myself. I was clearly out of my
league.

Up into the bathroom, I
washed my face and brushed my teeth with the toiletries he’d sent
to me Friday night. I couldn’t believe that was only three days
ago. So much had transpired since then.

The clock on the wall
said it was six thirty. Back in real life, the day would already be
in full swing. Our foreman, Bill, and the other ranch hands would be
up and about, starting in on the day’s chores. I’d already be at
work, serving up the smiles along with breakfast at the diner.

I got back into bed.
This was a week of debauchery, after all. And what would a wanton,
fallen woman do? She’d climb right back into the king-size bed and
luxuriate in the softness of the sheets, the fluffiness of the down
comforter, that’s what.

Where was Declan? I
didn’t think he’d climbed into bed with me last night. Was he
already at work? There was so much that I didn’t know about him.
And now we were traveling to New York, into a whole next level of
wealth, glitter, power and privilege. What kind of circles did he
travel in when he was there?

What sort of women did
he spend time with there? Because I wasn’t stupid, I knew Declan
had to always be surrounded by women. Who did he play with when he
was in New York? All I really had to go on were TV and movies, and
based on those there seemed to be two kinds of women in that city:
rich, cultivated and educated at the finest private schools,
sophisticated and worldly beyond measure. Or models. I hoped very
much we didn’t run in to any of them while we were visiting.

Agreeing to this
arrangement with him was such a huge risk with such crazy high
stakes. If it ended badly, the crash and burn would be so
devastating. When it ended, I reminded myself, not if. When it was
over at the end of the week. When that happened, I was going to need
to walk away with my head held high and never look back. The only way
that would happen was if I kept some emotional distance in the days
ahead. I had to stay aloof, remember this was a transaction. I could
play with my body but I needed to keep my heart firmly under wraps.

Back six years ago I’d
been such a buoyant balloon, so high off of him and the feel of his
kisses, his hands. Those nights together, just a handful, had felt
like the world. Back as a teenager, in his arms I’d soared with
unfettered rapture. I’d seen moonbeams and stardust shooting
overhead, a huge, shimmering promise of joy. He’d tilted my whole
world on its axis and I’d welcomed it with open arms.

Then he’d left
without saying a word. No note, no goodbye, he’d just up and gone.
I’d walked around his empty cabin, opening up the cabinets and
drawers looking for something to prove it wasn’t really happening.
Like in one of those drawers I’d find a secret love letter tucked
away, giving me directions where to meet him and telling me how he
couldn’t stand to be apart from me, not even for a minute.

The joke was on me. I’d
fallen for him hard, but he hadn’t felt the same way. To him, it
had been a few nights of fooling around, not enough to make him stay
interested. I knew I didn’t have the experience he was used to. I’d
probably bored him to tears. While I’d been exploding in fireworks,
he’d probably been checking his watch, counting the minutes until
he could dash.

The crash after that
high had been as bad as any junkie’s, maybe worse. I’d been so
lighthearted before he left. I’d been a naïve kid. That phase had
lasted a long time, I had to admit. My father had done a good job of
sheltering me, maybe too good a job. The thing about a protective
shelter was the shock once you emerged out of it. You didn’t always
have the skills and background to know how to deal with the storm.
I’d had to learn it all the hard way.

I’d been a complete
idiot. I’d sat in Declan’s empty cabin, crying. I’d cried a lot
more after that, too, moping and dragging myself around like I’d
been hit by a bus. My father hadn’t seemed to notice. That had felt
good, for the most part. I felt pathetic enough without my father
getting annoyed and frustrated with me on top of it. I felt enough of
that about myself already. But sometimes I did wish I had a mother
around, someone who might notice that my skin had faded into a gray
pallor and I’d lost about 15 pounds because everything tasted like
sawdust. Maybe I could have cried with a mother, instead of alone in
my room or while folding laundry or watching some sappy movie showing
me exactly what I didn’t have.

Six years ago I’d
fallen completely off the deep end and it had taken me a long while
to swim back to shore. I’d been so crazed with lust and what my
teenage brain had interpreted as love that I’d blinded myself to
reality. That hadn’t worked so well for me. I hadn’t worked the
poison out of my system for years. I think I still had some left in
me now.

You’d think all those
memories would get my guard up. The intensity of the pain. The way he
could flip the switch in him, making me feel the heat of the sun,
then suddenly turning off to leave me alone on the dark side of the
moon. You’d think I’d be panicking over the huge gamble I was
taking, once again placing myself within his power so completely. I
wasn’t any more experienced. I was just as vulnerable, if not more
so. I had much more to lose now.

And I did have alarm
bells ringing in my head. Make that emergency evacuation sirens
blaring. But the problem was, the rest of the noise strumming through
me, electric and wild, was even louder. It was like trying to think
rationally while inside a raging inferno. You couldn’t do it.

Normally, I was a good
girl. I worried and worked. But not right now.

Right now, in Declan’s
huge bed in his lavish penthouse, I brought a finger down and slipped
it under the elastic waistband of the boxers I was wearing. True, I
didn’t have any more experience now than I had back in the day. But
Declan sure made me want to get it. I wanted the experience, with
him. Here in Declan’s bed he worked his dark magic on me like
always, just his scent and the memories of what he’d done to me
depriving me of all reason.