Page 34 of First Touch

Until that moment, when Amber’s boyfriend lay sprawled across the living room couch, his feet bare, his jacket off, his tie loose, and told me to crawl. Instantly, my mouth grew moist and my belly knotted with the firm ball of arousal. Because being told to do something so demeaning, so perverted, so shameful… it thrilled me.

I put the bag in my mouth and started to bend down, but he stopped me again. “First, take off your clothes.”

I did. Without hesitation.

He watched me as I stripped. “The other day,” he’d said, “you mentioned hating how sweet and nice modern-day romantic heroes are. I saw that” – he’d nodded at the bag from the briefcase – “and thought you might appreciate it instead.”

His statement piqued my curiosity, but I soon forgot about it. Because when I’d gotten down on all fours, the ceramic floor had hurt my knees and the bag had pulled at my teeth. It swung as I’d crawled, and the way it hit my breasts had been uncomfortable and humiliating.

But the more uncomfortable I had felt – the more humiliated, the more sick and twisted – the more I had been aroused.

Liam’s expression had only added to my desire. He’d watched me like I was an animal, like I wasn’t a person but a pet, meant to be dominated and lorded over.

“You aren’t like Amber,” he’d said, and I hadn’t had to ask what he’d meant. Amber wouldn’t have gotten on her knees on a hard floor let alone gotten wet between the legs from such a degrading act. Amber wouldn’t be turned on by the prospect of pain or submission.

No, I definitely wasn’t like Amber.

I never did make it to the couch. Liam pounced before I’d even crawled midway across the room. He pounced and he bound my hands with his tie. He spanked me. Hard. Punitively. He fucked me roughly, mercilessly. When he’d finished, he’d left bruises on my wrists and arms and breasts.

He’d marked me in other ways, ways that couldn’t be seen. With the truth he’d taught me about myself. With the names he’d called me as he’d pounded into me, the names that had sent me over the edge. “Whore.” “Slut.” “Bitch.” He’d marked me as dirty. He’d marked me as submissive. He’d marked me as not Amber.

And that terrified me.

I’d cleaned up by the time Amber got home. When she’d knocked on my bedroom door to ask if I wanted to go out with her and Liam to grab dinner, I’d told her I had a headache. Later, when she’d left Liam sleeping in their bed, she’d come to check on me.

“I think it’s time to move on,” I told her. “Liam is fine, but he can’t buy us all the things Rob could. Is this what we want for our future? We could have so much more.”

She’d been reluctant, but she was a good friend and said she wanted me happy more than she wanted Liam. I suspected she also believed she really did deserve more than he could give her. We were gone within the week.

It was longer before I got around to looking at the gift he had bought me, the one I’d carried across the room in my mouth. It was an early copy of Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier. For a long time, I refused to look at it. I hid it under my bed and pretended it didn’t exist, pretended that the things that had happened with Liam, the things he’d shown me about myself, weren’t real. Weren’t true.

Turned out it wasn’t as easy to run from those revelations as I’d thought it would be. And when they came to the surface again, they were even more painful – physically and emotionally – than they’d been coming from Liam.

CHAPTER 11

My legs were jelly as I drove to Reeve’s house Sunday morning. I’d left more than an hour early even though he was only thirty minutes from my house via Mulholland Drive. I had a feeling he wasn’t the type to keep waiting. When I found his place, I turned around and parked a block away. Then I waited.

Patience had always been one of my strong suits. It was required when hunting men the way Amber and I had, and somewhere along the line I’d learned that anticipation paid off sexually. But anticipation was not to my benefit with Reeve. I’d already lost two nights of sleep thinking about him, about his kiss, and despite what I’d said to him, my vibrator had done nothing to relieve the throb between my legs. While it was helpful to be genuinely interested in a man I wanted to get close to, I recognized that the intensity of my attraction to Reeve was a weakness. It distracted me. It made me vulnerable.

It didn’t help that I was wearing nothing under my maxi dress. I was bare, easily accessible, and it made me sensitive and horny just because of the naughtiness of no panties. And it was only going to get worse when I stripped completely to get in the pool. Though he hadn’t specified that he wanted me naked when he’d delivered his invitation, he’d suggested it earlier, and I refused to play cautious. I wanted him to see me as strong. He needed me to be a challenge. I’d be of no interest to him if I were easy to break down.

Had he broken Amber down as well? Or had he restrained from dominating with her? It seemed unlikely to think he’d ever hold back, but on the other hand, Amber and I had shared more than one man who loved her one way and fucked me another.

But Reeve hasn’t even fucked you. What if he wasn’t what I thought he’d be in bed at all?

I chuckled at myself. Man, I was sure making a lot of assumptions. He could very well be all bark with no bite and all my anxiety would be for nothing.

Funny how disappointing that thought was.

At exactly ten to the hour, I turned my car on and headed back to Reeve’s house. He was at the end of the cul-de-sac. The driveway curved so I couldn’t see the house from beyond the entrance gate. I pulled up to the intercom and rolled down my window to hit the buzzer.

Before I touched it, though, the gate opened. He was waiting for me. A small shiver ran up the back of my neck. Followed by an internal eye roll at myself. I was so fucking pathetic – being delighted because someone who knew I was coming was looking out for my arrival. As if it meant he was excited for my visit instead of just that he knew how to be a good host.

I continued to chide myself as I followed the drive around the bend. Then the house came into view and the shiver that ran through me had nothing to do with Reeve and all to do with the magnificence standing before me. It wasn’t the largest home I’d ever been in, nor the most extravagant, but it was exactly the style I loved best – modern with clean lines and lots of windows.

My Prius felt out of place in front of the multicar garage that likely housed Aston Martins and Bentleys. Being in this environment, I realized I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed the stuff. I’d spent years with the luxury – jewels, boats, clothes, cars. While I’d never loved material things like Amber had, there were certain luxuries I had gotten used to. And even though I had the pride of knowing everything I owned now was mine outright, I couldn’t say I didn’t miss nice things. Which meant there was yet another level to my excitement as I followed the walk up to the front door. Reeve was a very rich man. And so far, it seemed he had very nice things.

He also seemed to like feeling safe. I’d spotted two suited men with guns patrolling the yard, and if I saw two, it meant there were four. Plus the guards he likely had inside. It was one thing to have a security system, but this was overkill. I’d been at A-list celebrity parties with less people packing.