The Billionaire Submissive (Billionaires in Bondage) Page 17

  He smiled. “I bought it Friday. You need the space and it’s a good investment.”

  “One.”

  He planted his hands on the desk and stood, leading in toward her. “Why are you so hungry?”

  “Because I fucking forgot to eat lunch.”

  “Two. Three for failing to take care of yourself.”

  “That wasn’t part of our bargain.”

  “It is now.”

  She held his gaze, letting her energy build to a fevered pitch, until he finally gave her what she was waiting for.

  “Mistress. I want only to make sure you’re taken care of.”

  She leaned closer and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Is that your job, lover boy?”

  “If you’ll let me.”

  She leaned back just enough to see his eyes. “Remember when I called you today? What did I ask you?”

  He swallowed. “My neck measurement.”

  “I didn’t buy you a shirt.” She turned and headed for the door, pausing to look back at him. “Are you ready?”

  His nostrils flared with each breath and his eyes blazed with emotion. Breathing deeply, it took him a moment to follow, likely because he was trying to bring his body back under control. Gathering his briefcase, he paused long enough to jerk at the neck of his shirt to loosen the pressure on his throat. “I have a question.”

  “Yes?”

  He strode toward her, all lithe power like a predator on the hunt. It made her nipples pebble against her T-shirt. “What can I do to make you curse more short of taking you shopping?”

  Chuckling, she let him take her arm as he preferred and waited for the elevator. “You don’t want to take me shopping?”

  “I don’t want to waste the time on shopping tonight. Any other day, I’ll absolutely drop everything to take you shopping for whatever you want.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, lover boy. I’m feeling very ashamed of my loose tongue tonight. I don’t think I’ll curse again for quite some time.”

  As soon as the elevator door opened, he lifted her up and had her pressed against the inside wall, high enough she could look into his eyes. “I’ll show you a loose tongue.”

  She draped her arms around his neck. “Later. Talk food to me.”

  He pressed her harder against the wall, working his knee up between her legs so she was riding his thigh. “Make me.”

  “I’m fucking starving so fucking tell me where we’re going.”

  He grinned and let her drop down to the floor. “Five. And we’re going to my favorite place for a change.”

  “I hope my clothes won’t offend anyone.”

  “Not at all.” He didn’t elaborate, which she chose to allow, simply because she relished the surprise. Where would posh Mr. Morgan take her to eat tonight in jeans and a risqué T-shirt?

  Driving down Payne Avenue was like backing up thirty years. He turned onto his old street and parked in front of the older two-story house he’d grown up in. Two large maples anchored either side of the front porch, and more large pines towered over the house in the back yard. Roses tumbled around the front and down the side of the house, all lovingly planted by his mother. Wild and overgrown, they were a gorgeous splash of color against the craftsman-style home. He didn’t have to roll down the window to remember those heirloom roses he’d given her every birthday and Mother’s Day would smell incredible.

  “Surely this isn’t where we’re eating,” Lilly said slowly.

  “No, but I can’t come to this neighborhood without stopping by to say hello.”

  Her eyes widened. “We’re here to see someone?”

  “No. Just a bunch of old memories.” He smiled but he knew it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “This is where I grew up. Until Mom passed away.”

  Lilly threaded her fingers through his. “Does anyone live here? I mean, do you want to go inside, or does it make you uncomfortable?”

  “Not at all, I love this old place. I bought it as soon as I could afford it twenty years ago. I even lived in it for a while. It was nice, actually. I felt closer to her, more connected to my roots and where I came from. Ricky lived next door and we were inseparable. We played ball in the street and rode our bikes all over the neighborhood, though we weren’t supposed to go all the way down to Payne. When we got older, we’d often sneak down to the bakery. Even then, Ricky knew his food. The most delicious crème donuts you’ve ever had.” Her stomach growled, making him laugh. “We can come back for a tour some other time. Let me show you where Ricky and I both got our first jobs.”

  He drove back down Payne, turned onto Minnehaha and down a block to reach the little corner diner he’d practically lived at. “We started as dishwashers, cleaning the nastiest, filthiest monster pots you’ve ever seen. Later, I escaped to my aunt’s house and then started working on Dad’s boat, but Ricky stayed in the kitchen and eventually took over on the grill. He never left food after that.”

  “For which my stomach is still thanking him after such an incredible weekend. Hank is happy too. He got a two-hour walk this morning.”

  Waiting at the light before pulling into the parking lot at Gus’s Family Diner, he shot a quick look at her face to gauge her reaction. He’d never been with a woman who enjoyed to eat and didn’t claim to be on a diet every time the dessert tray came by. But if she wasn’t happy… I’ll tell Ricardo to come up with something delectable with fruit and less sugar. Less cream.

  Oh hell no.

  She winked at him. “Maybe you can help me out with a really hard, sweaty, rough workout tonight. Then I can justify having a nice big juicy hamburger and fries for dinner.”

  He had to wait a few moments to make sure his voice didn’t crack with desire. “My lady’s wish is my command.”

  Gus’s Family Diner was the typical greasy spoon diner with a stainless steel counter and old-fashioned drug store stools lining the bar where you could watch the grill masters at work. Classic black and white tiles covered the floor, making the red tables and chairs pop. However, the glass tiles on the wall and shiny counters were brand new.

  “Back in my day, this was a popular place for kids to hang out after school for a fountain drink or hand-dipped shake, but like so many diners across the country, it fell on hard times as the generations changed. Kids don’t want to come hang out at a greasy hamburger joint any longer. They just stop by McDonald’s, too busy playing on their phones to even sit down and have a conversation.”

  “Let me guess, you bought this place too.”

  He smiled. “Guilty as charged. I couldn’t stand by and watch this place fall into disrepair and then oblivion. Ricky came back for a while and helped train an all-new staff. We also renovated, going for a classic, clean vibe. We’re still not making much money, but it’s nice to see the old place stay true to its roots.”

  “I had no idea you were such a sentimental man, Donovan.”

  He could only shrug like it meant nothing, but her warm approval made his stomach feel like he’d just drank a cup of hot cocoa.

  “Is there a place we can sit and spread out some sketches without getting food all over them?”

  “Sure.” He led the way to the dining room housing the same jukebox from when he’d worked here. There were a few older couples sitting at small tables, but the family-sized table big enough to seat eight was empty. “Will this suit?”

  Lilly laid her portfolio down on the table and started pulling out papers. “Perfect.” The waiter showed up, a young man, surely not old enough to even shave, to take their order. Not holding back, she stayed true to her word and ordered the biggest bacon cheeseburger on the menu with a side of hand-cut French fries and a cherry soda. She organized the papers, sorting them into some kind of order. After the waiter brought their drinks and she didn’t even notice the real cherries swimming in her Coke, Donovan realized she was nervous.

  “So what do you have to show me?”

  She looked up at him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “These are sti
ll rough at this point. Nothing’s final and far from perfect. It’s just a preliminary idea.”

  “I’m not expecting laminated proposals, spreadsheets and a PowerPoint presentation, at least not until tomorrow.”

  Her mouth quirked and she laid the first page down in front of him. “I can’t draw a lick, so these are Marie’s first sketches after I described the idea to her. First, this is the entire wall, drawn to scale with each window pane marked off. I know you said you want the whole thing done in stained glass, but I’m thinking about doing some of the panes all clear so that the colored ones really stand out. Plus if I tackle each individual window separately, it’ll allow us to install in stages as each team finishes their work, instead of trying to coordinate one massive design.”

  “Makes sense.” This picture didn’t really tell him what the windows would actually contain—it just showed which ones she planned to leave clear with some kind of pattern. “Did you decide on a theme?”

  She took a deep breath and flipped the top paper. “Boats. Specifically, your boats. I wanted to highlight your family’s roots.”

  He stared down at the sketch of a yacht with Beverly penciled on its side. It was rough and loose, but Marie had managed to capture the general shape of the boat. Off to each side, she’d also sketched out larger fishing boats and even an ocean liner. Chains and anchors ran through the whole design to tie them all together. The center window pane was an eagle—the Morgan Industries logo—with chain wrapped around its leg and a massive salmon in its beak.

  For him, it was a subtle reminder of his secret desire although very tastefully done. Even the mighty eagle was bound.

  “We can’t really do the other boats justice until I can provide her pictures to go off of. I thought for sure we could do your dad’s and grandfather’s boats, and then any other family boats you might want to add. I wasn’t sure about the ocean liners. I know the chains might be too much. Would you say something, please? Do you hate it?”

  Not lifting his gaze from the chained eagle, he laid his hands flat on the table. They were trembling.

  “Oh, God, you hate it.” She reached down to drag the sketch away but he slammed his hand down on it so hard she jumped. “I have a few other ideas. Let me meet with Marie again tomorrow—”

  “No.” The raw edge to his voice made his shoulders tighten, bracing for her reaction to a refusal.

  “But—”

  “I said no!”

  Slowly, she sat down across from him. She didn’t touch him or say anything, but just waited for him to explain. Lilly waited, patient and calm. Because the Mistress would have dragged him out of his chair by his hair and bent him over the table for a healthy dose of punishment.

  How could he explain what this meant to him? That she’d walked into his life and in a single weekend moved him more than he ever expected? The high and mighty Mistress had taken the time to get to know him, the real him, where he’d come from, his family. Quietly, gently, she’d taken his very heart and captured it in a few simple sketches.

  “I’ll get you the pictures. Whatever you need. I can’t…” He had to swallow, his throat shredded like he’d swallowed a handful of razor blades, but he made himself lift his head and meet her gaze. He knew it was too intense, his heart in his eyes. But she has to know how much this means to me. “It’s perfect. I couldn’t have asked for this if you hadn’t shown me it was possible.”

  “Are you sure? I know the chains are…suggestive.”

  He traced the chain wrapped around the eagle’s leg with a shaking finger. “Yes. It’s as necessary as Beverly.” As necessary as you are to me. “You’re giving me my chain tonight. I want the chain in the picture as well.”

  “Well, yes, about that…”

  He jerked his gaze back up to hers. “You promised.”

  “I have the collar we discussed, yes. But I also purchased a training collar. It’s—”

  “No.”

  “You sure are saying no a lot tonight.” Her patience was running thin by the narrowed glare she leveled on him. “My tolerance for such impertinence goes only so far.”

  “No training collar. No play. This is real to me.”

  “I know.” She laid her hand on top of his, stilling the aimless strokes he was still drawing on the picture without even realizing it. “But we can’t rush it. In some circles, a dominant’s collar is as significant as an engagement ring. You hardly want to be engaged to me after a single weekend.”

  Oh really?

  The waiter brought their food, giving him time to sit back and study her. She’d already made herself completely necessary, vital and crucial. He was having a hard time imagining what it would be like to not have her waiting for him each day, and she’d only come to his office at five this evening. What if she wasn’t there tomorrow? If she wasn’t going to come home with him? Could he face another day without her warmth? Her foul mouth that never hesitated to tell him exactly what she thought? Her absolute passion? Her unfailing strength and determination?

  She chatted easily with the young waiter, laughing about how good the burgers smelled she might just eat on top of her artwork. Of course she wouldn’t dare, and she was hungry enough she scooted down to the middle of the table to keep the sketches clean. Donovan didn’t follow right away, but instead flipped through the rest of the pages. They were all sea- and boat-themed, salmon, crab and cod. In the margins, she’d made notes about colors, staying true to the blues and greens of the sea, the stormy gray of the sky, the ice and cold of snow. Even her overall design for the entire wall left room for him to add panels later.

  Say when he bought a new boat and named it Lilly. He had to hide the smirk. I wonder how many swats that will earn me.

  Chapter Sixteen

  On one hand, she was surprised Donovan would bring her to a diner to eat after he’d flown in a Michelin chef for the weekend. But on the other, she was learning exactly how much he loved these little ties to his past, like the first place he and his best friend worked. His father’s boat. The man might have more money than he could spend in a dozen lifetimes, but what he truly valued were the memories.

  It makes me wonder what memories he’s storing up of me.

  Her stomach flipped over, an excited yet terrified little heave that made her set the juicy hamburger into the basket.

  After his adamant refusals, he was being strangely quiet now. Which means he’s up to no good at all.

  Casually, she picked up one of the hand-cut skin-on fries. “What’s the count for the day?”

  “Five.”

  “The next time you tell me no, I’m doubling it.”

  He sat up a little straighter, stacked the pages up on top of the portfolio and scooted down to the chair across from her. “Promise?”

  “You know it, lover boy.”

  He picked up his burger and took a bite. “So you said about the collar too. What does it mean to you, Lilly? I mean, deep down, does it mean an engagement? A promise? Or I am just a plaything you’re keeping around until you tire of me?”

  Careful, Lil. You have to handle this like he’s a fragile piece of irreplaceable glass. “I’ve put a collar on a sub before.”

  “That’s not what I meant. Have you put a collar on your sub? Did you ever have a sub who was wholly yours, body and soul?”

  “Not that way, no.”

  He ate silently for a few minutes and she hoped he’d drop the subject. No such luck, not with this wealthy CEO.

  “So when you put a collar on a sub before, he was just a sub. Not your sub.”

  “Right,” she said it slowly, trying to figure out where he was going with it. He wasn’t jealous or tense or upset. In fact, he smiled at her over his burger.

  “So then there’s no reason for you not to give me my collar tonight.”

  “I said…”

  “The real one. Not the training one. Donovan Morgan doesn’t do training, which ranks down there with cleaning, waiting in line or, God forbid, laundry.”


  “Or cooking,” she added, laughing.

  “Exactly.”

  She wiped her greasy fingers on her napkin so she wouldn’t drop her glass. “I just want to be clear up front. I don’t want you to be hurt in any way. That would devastate me.”

  “Crystal clear. Mistress L is not proposing marriage with this collar.”

  “Donovan, I’m serious.”

  “So am I.”

  Tipping her head, she studied him, watching for any little tic or betrayal. But he wore the consummate businessman mask perfectly. Open and charming with just a hint of a smile curving his lips that might be amusement…or smugness because I’m falling right into his trap.

  “I want it, Lilly. I want it as much as I’ve ever wanted anything before in my life. And you know what that means.”

  “You always get what you want.”

  He nodded, smiling. “You know it.”

  She hated to do it. She really did. But I don’t have a choice. I have to remind him who’s in control of this relationship, and who’s the submissive. “Your Mistress will decide what’s best for you. If she decides it’s best to start slowly, then that’s exactly what you’ll do. Or you won’t have the Mistress.”

  His face tightened, his jaws working, but he didn’t say anything. He knew better than to argue, at least for now.

  He’s getting too attached. He’s too proud, too arrogant, too confident by far. If he doesn’t go to his knees for me tonight…

  I’ll have to put him there. Hard.

  Finishing her dinner in silence, she had to admit at least to herself such a task would be far from repulsive. In fact, I can’t wait.

  Watching Lilly walk around the large, empty warehouse, Donovan planned his next move. Commence Operation Necessity.

  In other words, he had to make himself as necessary to her as she was to him. Right now, he had the disturbing feeling she could walk away without too many regrets. She might miss him. She might lie awake fondly at night and remember the way she’d destroyed his bedroom. But he hadn’t rocked her world the way she’d leveled his.

  I have to find a way to bring her to her knees at least emotionally, even if the Mistress has me on mine.