Crave Me Read online

  I gritted out, “How noble of you.”

  “I’m not noble. I’m a Dom, and as one, my primary concern is the safety of a sub. You have this one chance to take me up on my offer, or I walk.”

  Despite my anger, I still wanted him. What a mess I was. Perhaps I could use this and get the best of both worlds. I could screw Simon Delgado out of my system, and find someone better for me in the long run. He was right. My family would never accept him even if he ever decided he liked me.

  “Fine,” I hissed, seething and allowing him to see how angry and hurt I was. “I accept.”

  Lines wrinkled his forehead as his eyebrows arched into two perfect points. “Excuse me?”

  Pushing down all my anger and the pain, I relented. “Thank you, sir, I accept.”

  “Very good. Now come here and stand in front of me.”

  My gaze flickered toward the door to my office. He wouldn’t take me here, would he? “Perhaps we need ground rules, sir.”

  “We’ll get to rules later. Before our first session. But for now, I’ve given you a command.”

  I pushed back the leather chair, rolling it slowly and stood. I flinched as the silk shirt stuck to my healing skin and tugged it away from my back before walking around the desk. As I moved toward him, he pushed back his chair. Metal legs scraped on wood floor. He moved back just enough for me to squeeze between his knees and my desk.

  “You’re still in pain,” he said, clearing noticing the way I was still flinching. “Have you changed your dressing?”

  “No. I was going to call Gabby tonight and see if she’d help me.”

  His tongue licked his upper lip. “I see. I believe I made it clear I would help you.”

  “You weren’t my Dom then.”

  His lips stretched, wicked with an evil grin that made me shiver. He unwrapped his arms from his chest and placed his palms at my hips—too gently to be dominating, too firm to be relaxed. His thumbs pressed into the sensitive area just inside my hipbones and I jolted straight up.

  “And now?” His voice lowered. “Do you have a Dom?”

  I’d already committed. As much as it excited and hurt me, this was the man I’d always wanted.

  “Yes, sir. You’re my Dom.”

  His hand patted my hipbone, skirted along the thin materials of my clothing before resting at my waist. “Good girl. Tonight, I’ll be at your place at eight. I’ll bring dinner. Wine. We’ll take care of your wounds, bathe you, and we’ll discuss contracts and negotiations. Understand?”

  Tonight? From his arrival to now he’d had me completely off-balance. Firm and gentle. Demanding and curious. Giving me everything I wanted, holding it out in front of me like a carrot on a string. But damn, there was no other answer to give him.

  “Yes, sir.”

  He pushed me back gently, slowly. My ass hit the edge of the desk as he stood up. His chest brushed against mine, hands ran up my sides until he cupped the back of my neck.

  “Good job, Little Bird. I know you’re nervous, and I know I’ve hurt you, but from here on out, it’s my job to take care of you. Trust me, Chloe, and I’ll give you exactly what you claim you always wanted.”

  I stared at his throat. He’d already told he wouldn’t give me what I wanted. “Okay, sir.”

  His thick, warm lips pressed against the top of my head. “Get back to work and I’ll see myself out. Take it easy for the rest of the day.”

  He sauntered past me, opened and disappeared through the door to my office before I could say anything. Not that I had anything to say. Instead, I had hours to begin planning exactly how I’d take thirty days and use them to my advantage, so when he left me at the end of this, he didn’t take my heart with him.

  * * *

  I tightened my grip around my keys and hurried down Pearl Street toward my apartment overlooking the river. I had a car and a covered parking space, but unless it was pouring rain or below zero, I preferred walking the five blocks back to my apartment. A newly built building just off the river and Pearl Street, I lived in the heart of downtown. The brewery on the main floor of my building was somewhere I frequented so often most of the wait staff and managers knew me by name, almost like my own personal Cheers bar. I skipped the door to the Folton Brewery, into the entryway of my own building.

  “Hello, Miss Reynolds,” the doorman and security guard Frank said as I entered the modern lobby. I loved everything about this building, especially the modern main gathering areas. Light wood tables on gunmetal table legs, furniture that could have all been shipped from Ikea, much like my own apartment. As soon as I entered my building, my stress levels always evaporated.

  That night was no different.

  “Hi Frank,” I said and walked up to the main reception desk. “I’ll be having a visitor at eight tonight. His name is Simon Delgado. Can you please go ahead and buzz him up when he arrives?”

  All visitors had to be announced, like I lived in a hotel. It was perfect for me. With my busy schedule, I was able to have concierge service, food delivered from the Brewery at a small, additional charge, and a twenty-four-hour exercise room I rarely used because I enjoyed hitting up the yoga classes at the gym where I’d met Tyra. It served all of my needs. Most of the residents were all my age, single or newly married. It wasn’t uncommon for many of us to gather on the rooftop deck during the summer and enjoy the warm weather while we had it.

  Frank scribbled down the information I gave him on his blotter. He’d enter the information into the computer later, but he was older and averse to technology. He still preferred paper and pen, claiming it was faster for him.

  “Will do, Miss Reynolds. Anything else I can do for you this evening?”

  “No thanks. Have a good night and take care of yourself.”

  “Always do,” he called to me as I turned and walked toward the elevators.

  I didn’t have to wait long and by the time I entered my apartment, excitement was bubbling inside my veins. I tossed the keys and my purse onto the built-in shelving in the hall as I entered, removed my fall coat, kicked off my heeled boots, and slid them under the shelving in their correct space. I hung my coat in the entryway closet. My apartment was small but I didn’t mind. Other than my love of clothes and shoes and accessories, I lived on very little.

  Everything was stylish with a modern, European flair. Definitely not anything similar to the country kind of home my parents had maintained. But something had attracted Simon to Cassie years ago, and a part of his attraction could have been because of the conservative home we’d been raised in. Despite her supermodel beauty, Cassie was as conservative and Midwestern as they came.

  From our looks and goals to our political leanings and style, if there was any sort of spectrum to how we lived, we were always on opposite sides. How could a man love a woman like her, and turn around and want a woman like me?

  Moving to the kitchen, I uncorked a bottle of wine and poured myself a glass of Malbec before heading to my room, where I slowly took off the silk shirt and leggings I had on and dressed in something more comfortable.

  Since Simon had said he’d give me a bath and take care of my wounds, instead of changing into something seductive, I threw on a thick, fuchsia colored robe and fresh underwear, knotting the belt tightly at my waist.

  I pushed the frosted glass door shut from my bedroom to the bathroom, and washed the makeup off my face. I was rubbing lotion into my skin when my buzzer sounded from outside the other door to my bathroom, signaling Simon was on his way. I took another sip of wine, closed the door to the bathroom, and was at the entryway door to my apartment when three firm knocks echoed on the other side of the dark wood.

  Even knowing it was Simon on the other side, I rolled to my toes and checked the peephole before pulling the door open and stepping back so he could enter.

  “Hi,”
I whispered, my voice instantly going soft. His large frame consumed the doorway as he stepped through, his gaze instantly dropping to my robe. Dressed in what I’d seen him in earlier, his hair a bit more messed up like he’d scrubbed it with his hands, he was just as insanely attractive as he always was.

  My hand went to the knot at the belt.

  “You changed.” His voice rumbled, neither approving nor disapproving, but maybe slightly amused.

  “You, um, said something about a bath, so I didn’t see the point in putting other clothes on when I got home.” Heat infused my cheeks. I tore my gaze from him and to the bag of food in his hand. Cardonna’s was one of my favorite Italian restaurants. The scent of garlic and their world famous carbonara sauce made my mouth water. “Are you coming in?”

  He stepped inside and I closed the door, having to maneuver around him in the narrow hallway.

  “Simon? Is everything okay?” He hadn’t said much. Hadn’t changed his expression. I had no idea what was going on in his swirling blue gray eyes, behind those plastic frames of his I loved so much. Why was a man in glasses so sexy?

  He held up the bag of takeout. “Does your oven having a warming feature?”

  “Yes.”

  He turned and headed toward the kitchen at the end of the hallway. It was the length of one wall. Instead of cupboards, painted gray wood shelves showcased my bright stoneware and teal Le Creuset stockpot. I stood in the spot where he’d left me, too stunned by his question to move. I’d expected dinner, negotiations, and a bath.

  Something told me my expectations were about to be radically altered.

  Chapter Six

  Simon

  Was she trying to torment and tease me? Entering Chloe’s small and modern apartment, I’d expected to find her in jeans or yoga pants and a T-shirt, the common outfits she wore when I was around her years ago. In her ridiculous robe, so long it covered her toes, and her hair thrown into a mess at the top of her head, her face completely void of the makeup I’d seen her wearing earlier, threw me off balance—like so much of her tended to do to me.

  Taking time to train her was a mistake. I just hadn’t realized how big of one it was until my heart pounded so hard against my chest at the sight of her. I needed my hands on her.

  Now.

  “Where’s your bathroom?” I asked, turning. Her back was still pressed against a door in the hallway where I’d left her. At least I wasn’t the only one off-balance.

  “In here.” She opened the door behind her, walked backward through it, and disappeared.

  I followed. Last night when I’d brought her home, I had found her room immediately but hadn’t bothered turning on lights. Now, with it on full display, I was curious. The place was small, but that wasn’t the problem. Years ago, Chloe used to be messy. She’d drop her suitcase in the living room of her parents’ house and by the end of her stay, her clothes would be scattered all over the place. More than once Cassie lamented the mess. I couldn’t remember the amount of times I’d tripped over shoes she’d left sprawled wherever she’d decided to kick them off. Now, her place could be a showroom. Tidy, almost too clean, and nothing like the girl I remembered.

  I met her in the bathroom and gestured toward the sheet of frosted glass to my left. “What’s that?”

  She slid it open. “The door to my bedroom.”

  Huh. Last night I’d walked down the hall to find her room. Around the corner was a matching door like the one she’d opened on the far side of the bedroom. “That takes you to the living room?”

  “You don’t like it.” Her voice was soft, timid. She sounded disappointed in a way I hadn’t expected. Did it matter to her if I liked her place?

  “There’s a lot of white.” It was a non-answer but I shook it off. I’d wanted to come to her house tonight to learn more about Chloe, apart from what I’d known of her around her family. So far, she’d shown me she was completely unlike any of them. But she also wasn’t like the girl I remembered. I’d figure out later if it were a good thing or not. “Go sit on your bed while I draw you a bath. Do you have gauze and cream for your wounds?”

  She nodded, looking uncertain and still sad. I ignored the pale coloring on her cheeks and curved my hand around her shoulders, gaining her attention. “I told you to go to your bed, Chloe.”

  “Of course, yes. Okay.” Her tongue darted out, swiping across her bottom lip, but I couldn’t read her. Not like I could always read her before. Mostly because I’d always only ever seen her happy. Confident.

  Uncertainty curled a tight knot in my gut but I pushed through it. I’d already ruined one Reynolds sister. I needed to ensure through all of this, I didn’t ruin another.

  “First aid kit is under the sink,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. Timid. Fearful.

  I hated it.

  I also ignored it and crouched over the edge of her large soaking tub, hidden again behind another immobile frosted glass door. Her place was like living in at the North Pole. I started the water and after it warmed, I pushed off the edge of the tub and grabbed the medical kit under the sink.

  I found her in her bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her belt was still knotted at her belly and she was sitting on her hands. Feet tapping mindlessly on the gray and white rug beneath her bed. Flashes of pink on her toenails darting out from beneath the behemoth of a robe she had on.

  “You okay?” I asked. Timid and nervous was one thing. Fearful wouldn’t do.

  I needed her ready and trusting me, but most of all, I just wanted to get my large hands all over her tiny frame. Feel every curve of her body. Glide my tongue along the crease of her ass. Trace her freckles across the bridge of her nose and taste her everywhere to see if she smelled like fresh springtime.

  Fuck. My dick hardened, pressed against my jeans again. She had me acting like a randy teenager and not a man who prided himself on self-control.

  “This is weird,” she finally said, lifting her head until our eyes met.

  The fear in them stunned me. “What’d you think was going to happen? I dated your sister, Chloe. Did you think during our time together, we wouldn’t have to deal with it?”

  “Have you?” she asked, bottom lip trembling. “Have you dealt with it?”

  Nope. I hadn’t. I didn’t even want to. I also wouldn’t admit it. She wanted a man to take control, and I was the guy to do it.

  “Untie your belt and remove your robe.”

  Her eyes snapped up to mine and her lips parted. Arching a brow, I didn’t move a muscle until her trembling hands tugged at the belt. Once it was removed, I set the medical kit down on her bed and stood in front of her, watching every slow and hesitant movement she made.

  “Do you know what I think, Chloe?”

  Her hair flopped and bobbed as she shook her head.

  “I don’t think you’ve ever really been a submissive.”

  She tried to interrupt me.

  “I think you want to, but I think, in some way, you’ve always had the upper hand when it came to men. They probably tied themselves in knots knowing they had your delicious and sexy as hell body beneath theirs, but in the end, you both ended up frustrated. Do you know why I think that?”

  She licked her lips, gaze flicking around the room to everywhere but me. “Why?”

  “Remove the robe. Lie down, now.”

  The familiar spark flashed in her eyes again and this time, I grinned at her. She was so screwed with me. I’m sure she pulled the guys she dated around by her dicks. Sure she might have submissively asked to be played with, maybe spanked. Maybe she bought fluffy pink handcuffs and teased them, or cuffed herself to her bed and waited for the guy she was with to get the hint. But I wasn’t fooled. She’d never chosen to submit. She’d held all the cards.

  Once she had done what I ordered, I admired her back, the de
licate curve of her spine and flare of hips. Tan lines told me exactly how teeny her bikini had been last summer.

  Need burned inside me and I pulled my gaze off her ass to her eyes. “I think you’ve always been the one in control, because every time I tell you to do something, your eyes flash like you want to stab me with an ice pick. I’m sure you’ve played before, but I don’t give a fuck what you’ve done with other men. Tonight, and moving forward, you need to realize that when you’re my sub, you’re mine. All of you. Your body, inside and out, belongs to me to do whatever the hell I want with it, whenever I want.”

  Her jaw tightened and her eyes narrowed into a bratty little glare. Fuck. We should have done negotiations first. Had we, I’d deliver a spanking for her obstinate expression.

  “You mean for a month.”

  I pulled myself out of my fantasy of watching her small ass jiggle from the slaps I wanted to give her, and how red her skin would turn.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You said my body was yours to do with whenever you wanted it, but you meant a month like you made clear in my office earlier. Right?”

  Teasing little seductress.

  My lip curled. My hand flexed to deliver the spanking she so desperately needed without knowing. To get control of myself, to not push too fast, something I’d learned after my years with Cassie, I spun on my heel and went to the bathroom. I shut off the water and took out towels before returning to her room, smiling when she was in the same spot.

  I went to work quickly, pulling her skin taut before removing the gauze and bandages so it didn’t hurt her. I still cringed, my jaw tightened in anger as I took in the mess on her back.

  It was obvious she’d never really submitted. Jared had probably seen how green she was, figured she’d jump at the opportunity to be whipped, and yet she had no idea what her limits would be or what she needed.

  My job was now to teach her limits, until she could learn to trust and submit while still holding on to her confidence.