Desired

Desired [Book 1 of the Stripper Chronicles] by Karen Monroe Atlantic Bridge www.atlanticbridge.net Copyright ©2006 by...

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Desired [Book 1 of the Stripper Chronicles] by Karen Monroe

Atlantic Bridge www.atlanticbridge.net

Copyright ©2006 by Karen Monroe

NOTICE: This eBook is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution to any person via email, floppy disk, network, print out, or any other means is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment. This notice overrides the Adobe Reader permissions which are erroneous. This eBook cannot be legally lent or given to others. This eBook is displayed using 100% recycled electrons.

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Published by Liquid Silver Books, Imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana. Copyright 2006, Karen Monroe. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the authors. This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

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Dedication To Tina, Jen, Dee and Adrianna. Thanks for helping me along, and decreasing the asshole factor ... you all know what that means.

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Prologue Ameril Haverton walked outside, inhaling the crisp night air. "Where's your car?" She glanced at John, the tall reed-thin bouncer, and replied, "It's over there. I got here late so I had to park kind of far away." "No problem, Amy." Ameril looked at John quickly. She had told him her real name was Ameril several times, but he didn't seem to get it. She shook her head, deciding it didn't matter, and walked quickly toward her car, John trailing a few steps behind. The parking lot was nearly empty, only a few vehicles remained. Most of them were run down and beaten up by life, so it was natural that a shiny white Hummer caught her attention. Wonder who that belongs to? It seemed out of place among the beat-up Fords and Hondas. She clutched her purse tighter and quickened her pace. "Do you know who that car belongs to, John?" "I've seen it here a few times, but I've never seen the person driving it. It doesn't belong to one of the girls, though. I would have remembered that. Do you think I should check it out?" Ameril thought John should check out a brain, but kept the thought from voicing. She was a little leery, though. A strange car parked in the lot of a strip club closed for the 5


evening didn't bode well. It was common knowledge strippers carried large amounts of money after work. This was the reason John escorted her to the car. He would be the first line of defense if someone jumped out attempting to rob her. She looked at John, gauging his stature. She should have asked Fred to escort her. He definitely would have been better protection. Moving toward her 2000 Dodge Neon, Ameril looked through the large back panel window of the H2. Someone was sitting inside. Her pulse quickened, and she reached inside her purse, intent on retrieving her cell phone, her pace quickening toward her car. It could be someone's boyfriend, but she wanted to be ready just in case. Her shoulders jumped when she heard a car door slam. Stiffening, she turned toward the noise, cell phone in hand and ready to run like hell. She wanted to get a good look at her attacker so she could finger them in a line up. If she actually made it to a line up, she amended. It wasn't a mugger approaching, but the man's purposeful look scared Ameril more than a would-be robber. Jake Macmillan "Don't come any closer," John said, fear trembling his voice. Jake didn't pause. "I have some Mace in my pocket. I don't want to spray you, buster." Ameril rolled her eyes to the stick figure of a man standing next to her. Some bouncer. 6


"It's okay John. I—I know him." Ameril wished there wasn't a grain of truth to the statement, but she did know the tall, handsome man walking toward them. Knew him better than she would have liked to. "I told you not to come back here," she said angrily. Since killing and maiming weren't in the cards tonight, she faced this new threat with a measure of ease. A small measure of ease, she rectified, but still some nonetheless. "And I told you not to order me around like some lackey," Jake said in a strong voice, shifting his narrowed brown gaze to John. "Tell him to go," he ordered. Ameril opened her mouth to tell Jake where he could go, when John answered, forestalling her angry tirade. "I'll leave when Ameril tells me it's okay." Ameril reassessed her earlier evaluation. John has some balls after all. It was a lighthearted thought, and would have brought a smile to her face if it weren't for Jake's menacing gaze. He turned toward her, his statement clear as crystal. "Either you tell him to go, or I make him go." She swallowed the lump in her throat, and gestured to John. "It's okay. I'll be alright." She reached in her wallet for his customary tip, thinking he deserved a little more than the ten-dollars she'd planned on giving him earlier. Jake was quicker though. He already had a large wad of cash in his hand, and peeled off what looked to be a hundred dollar bill. "Wow! Thanks." 7


Ameril rolled her eyes. So much for bravery, she thought. Give the man some money and he left her defenseless. She shook her head, and waited until John was out of hearing distance. "Is that it? You think because you have money everyone's obliged to do what you say?" She stared at Jake angrily. Jake sighed loudly. "I'm tired of playing these games with you, Ameril." "What games?" she asked in fury, turning rapidly to walk toward her car. She could hear the sounds of his steps, pounding the pavement behind her. "You know what I'm talking about," he said. "No, I don't know what you're talking about," she lied, almost to her car. Ameril did know what he was talking about though. It would be the same thing he'd said consistently for the past three weeks. He wanted to see her, wanted to get to know her. She thought after their sexual encounter in the private room three weeks ago she'd seen the last of him, but that wasn't the case. Jake kept coming back to the Classy Lady, though she categorically refused to dance for him, and repeatedly told him to "fuck off." "How long are you planning to keep this up?" he asked, his voice very close now. Ameril struggled with her car keys, ignoring him. She couldn't deal with a man like him; didn't want to deal with a man like him. She thought her best friend Alex was out of her mind for even contemplating getting involved with Steve, 8


Jake's brother. She had called her several different types of fool, but her friend turned a deaf ear. She knew it was only a matter of time before Alex got hurt. Ameril planned to be there to help her pick up the pieces, but she would be damned if she would join in the madness. "Will you just go away," she hissed, fighting for control. Her hands shook so badly, she keyed her own car trying to open the door. "I'm tired of this, Ameril. I want you. You know I want you," Jake said calmly. His words sent a tremor of ache through her body. NO! She would not give in. Not give in to this man, his money, or his domineering ways. No matter how much her body craved surrender. She snorted. "Well, I don't want you." "You are a liar," he said softly, turning her roughly to face him. Her keys dropped to the ground, and she stared up into piercing brown eyes. "No," she protested, but it was too late. Jake's lips descended and their mouths fused in a blaze of overwrought passion. He backed her against the car with the hard planes of his body, and it felt like aftershocks shook the ground. His mouth tender, he swept through all her barriers, his tongue invading like a bold conqueror. He tasted like pungent cognac, and the essence of the man himself. Ameril felt buzzed and amplified, like a current of electricity. 9


Their tongues mated in sensual bliss, and she was unable to deny the swift arousal in her body. Over and over their tongues swirled inside each other's mouths, devouring one another. Ameril gave in to the raging inferno, and entwined her hands in Jake's thick brown hair, pulling him closer. A car horn blared suddenly in the background, and Ameril froze. "Get off me," she spat, wiping her mouth and pushing Jake with all the strength she possessed. He stumbled back, and tried to grab hold of her again, but she quickly bent to pick up her keys. Holding them out in front of her like a weapon, she said forcefully, "I don't know what your problem is, but if I see you skulking around here again, I'm going to call the cops." It was a bluff. She would never call the cops, but she didn't want to play this game. She took a deep breath, and stared at him determinedly. Instead of looking worried, like a normal man might, Jake smiled. "Call them, Ameril. Call anyone you want, but I'm not leaving here. I've told you that before." He stepped closer, ignored her outstretched arms, and pulled her body flush against his. The press of his arousal poked against her stomach. "I always get what I want, Ameril. And I want you." "Stop this. Please don't do this to me," she whispered. Jake thrust her away from him angrily. "I could kill him," he uttered. 10


She looked at him in confusion, and tried to regain the control he had taken so ruthlessly. "Who?" "Whoever made you so afraid. What's his name, Ameril?" She licked her lips nervously, but feigned ignorance. "I don't know what you're talking about. For the last time, leave me alone." Jake shook his head, and looked skyward, as if he needed answers only divinity could give. When his gaze fastened on her, she saw the resolution blazing. "You still don't get it do you? This thing between us is not going to go away. I'm not going to let it go away. Do you understand that?" Ameril shivered as a cool Northern wind passed and it chilled her to the bone. She was dressed warmly, in a heavy cream colored sweat suit, but it felt like the temperature had dropped to below freezing. She turned her back to him, and finally after a few tries opened the car door. "I won't be your plaything, Jake. Not now. Not ever." Jake placed a restraining hand on her shoulder before she could slide into her seat. "Have dinner with me?" "It's two in the morning. There aren't any restaurants open." She tried to shrug loose from his grasp, but he tightened his grip and held firm. "There's a twenty-four hour diner down the street," he replied. Ameril's eyes widened in shock. She knew there was a diner down the street. A lot of the girls went there after their shift. They served great omelets, and home-style hash browns. She and Alex both loved the food and had gone there often. 11


"I-I have school tomorrow. I can't go," she said, and flushed from the small lie. "Liar. Tomorrow's your day off." Her body stiffened instantly, and she turned furious blue eyes to Jake. "How do you know I don't have school tomorrow? Have you been following me?" A deep flush highlighted his bronze skin, and he looked away from her gaze. "You bastard! How dare you invade my privacy? Who in the hell do you think you are?" "It's not like that." "Listen to me, Jake, 'cause this is the last time I'm going to tell you." She stared at him, making sure she had his full attention. "Stop coming to the club. Stop bothering me, and don't you ever invade my privacy again. I swear to you, if you do I'm going to make you sorrier than you've ever been in your miserable life." She slid into the driver's seat, and angrily stuck the key in the ignition. She leaned over to close the door but it wouldn't budge. "Let go of the door, Jake," she ordered. "Apparently, you're determined to do this the hard way, Ameril. I'm warning you. Don't play with fire. You will get burned," he said softly. "Just let go of the door. I'm tired and want to go home." "I tried to do this the easy way, Ameril. I tried to give you time, but you've forced my hand." Ameril nearly flinched at the intense look in his eyes. She didn't understand the cryptic words, but more than that, she 12


didn't understand the tingles of passion pooled in the pit of her belly. She was grateful he couldn't see inside her. If he could, he would know what it was costing her not to throw her arms around him in surrender. She verged on losing a dangerous war. A war she was determined to win at all cost.

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Chapter 1 One month later "C'mon babe, I got a million songs in my head. What do you want to dance to?" Ameril cocked her head to the side, watching as a stream of men plowed through the turnstile of the Classy Lady. The melodious piano intro from Coldplay's "Clocks" drummed through the speakers, and she tapped her fingers against her thigh, harmonizing with the music. Glancing down at her smooth expanse of legs showcased by a super short, spaghetti-strapped, one-piece, dark red, velvet mini skirt, Ameril was surprised. For the first time in her five years of dancing, her knees were shaking. She shifted her apprehensive gaze toward Fred, AKA, Fred the Man. "I don't know. I don't know what I feel like. I can't decide." "Am, this isn't like you, doll. Why don't you go for Metallica? You're the only girl in here who can dance to them." "Or maybe we should go for some old school, some Duran Duran maybe? Ameril shifted her gaze once more. "I don't know. Why don't you choose something? I just want to get it over with." "What's the stress, hon? The men are horny, and there are plenty to go around tonight. You could dance to Pat Benatar and it wouldn't matter." 14


The flickering, multi-colored glare from the stage cast shards of light into her eyes, and without conscious thought, her sight settled on a glittering, familiar gaze. "Just play something. I don't care what it is," she muttered. "You don't have to go up there, ya know?" Startled, Ameril broke free of the powerful stare, jutting her chin forward she clenched her teeth in determination. "No, I'll be fine. Just play anything. Go with something you think will be best." "Are you sure?" "Yeah, play whatever you like. I'll be fine." "I doubt that, doll. But, how about we go with a set of classic Soundgarden?" Fred grinned, wriggling his eyebrows as he twisted knobs in his lighted DJ booth. "Rusty Cage? Outshined?" The corners of Ameril's lips lifted as memories of grating guitar strings played in her head. "Grunge is good for me." "Alrighty then. Go on and get dressed. Take your time. I'll keep the crowd hot until you're ready." Ameril yearned to assure Fred she was ready, but as her eyes fixed on the marble-topped, rectangular stage, sparkling lights like shiny candy for the taking, she knew she wasn't. Shutting her lids, she waited a moment before lifting them again, her breath catching as her eyes, again, clashed with a dark, heated stare. The whoops and hollers echoing through the club reminded her of jungle-like mating calls of animals, wild and frenzied with lust. 15


The pungent aroma of musk hung heavy like the smoke from Indian incense, teasing her nostrils. The blaring music ricocheted through her eardrums with the beat of her desire. Ameril couldn't stop the jitters trilling down her spine. She didn't feel the fun she normally felt. Fear tightened the muscles in her stomach, forcing her head to turn away from the piercing, intent look. Blinking at Fred's expectant gawk, she finally stuttered, "Jjust give me a c-couple of minutes, o-okay." "You got it, sweetie. Holla at me when you're ready." Ameril nodded and walked toward the dressing room. Her shoes slid against the soft carpet, the pointy soles catching and making her stumble. She took a deep breath and picked up her feet, resisting the urge to glance over her shoulder to see if those memorable brown eyes were still watching. As she reached for the golden handle of the dressing room, the door swung wide, causing a shaft of light to spread across her eyes. Ameril recoiled against the glare, before blinking Flavia Rodriguez's petite, brunette stature into focus. "I was about to look for you. Rachel says you have to go on stage." Flavia gasped, pulling Ameril inside with undue haste. "I'm about to go on. I was just coming in to find a new outfit." "No! I told her you couldn't because of that weirdo." "He's not a weirdo..." Ameril stopped herself, realizing she was protecting the very man she was scared shitless of seeing. 16


Regrouping, she walked past Flavia, pushing her way into the dressing room. "Don't stress it. Tell her I'm about to go on." "Are you sure? You've been a basket case ever since this dude started coming into the club. You haven't even been on the stage in a month. Maybe you should go home, Ameril. There's no need to tempt fate." The suggestion had a lot merit. Ameril pondered it before dismissing it out of hand. She had to get this over with. "I can't, Flav. I've got bills and they won't get paid if I don't make any money." "Well if you're sure. I guess you should. But, be warned," Flavia's face scrunched into a pensive frown, "he's got a look about him tonight." "What do you mean?" Ameril asked, taking a seat in one of the vacant leather chairs. "I mean that since he's been coming here, I've never seen him look so dangerous. Seriously girl, I don't think you should go out there." "I don't really have a choice. Do I?" "I'm for real, Am. Don't go out there. This guy means business. I don't know what you did to him. And frankly, I don't want to know, but trust me when I say he is serious." That really wasn't a surprise. Ameril was about to open her mouth to repeat the trite 'I'm fine' expression, when a loud commotion across the room halted her before she could speak. "You don't dance for my customer, Bitch! I told you that before!" 17


"It's a free country, Cynthia! And you don't own him!" Ameril rolled her eyes and shook her head, reaching to grab the make-up case sitting near her heeled feet. She had wanted to change clothes, but the arguing changed her mind. "I can't believe those two are at it again," Flavia murmured. "You'd think they'd do a duo for the guy and save themselves the hassle." Ameril chuckled in spite of herself. "But then they wouldn't be able to fight all the time. Where would the fun be if they didn't?" "Personally, I think they're gay and trying not to fall in love." Glancing over her shoulder at Amber and Cynthia, she took in their flushed postures and eager combative stares. Hmmm ... there was something sparking between them. Guffawing, Ameril remarked, "I wouldn't doubt it." Smiling, she turned back toward the mirror to apply more makeup, her mind tuning out the argument, music and Flavia standing over her like a guardian angel, so she could concentrate. An image of a woman with long, golden blonde hair and wide, pale blue eyes mimicked her every movement, and Ameril dropped her hand to lean closer to the mirror. Once upon time, long ago, she had liked working for the Classy Lady, but now with Alex gone, things weren't the same. Alexandria Houston, her best friend, had worked at the club for the last two of the five years Ameril had been 18


dancing. She smiled, remembering walking Alex around her first day. Dan, the Jerk, was still the manager, and Fred had been about twenty pounds lighter. Melissa and Rachel were still dancing. The Classy Lady had been different—the same really, but different for her. A part of Ameril wished to return to those days of old, when times were simpler. But deep down inside, she knew she couldn't. The growing restlessness inside her soul wouldn't go away. The haunting eyes following her every move were watching—always watching—making her want things Ameril knew she shouldn't. Blinking back the sudden moisture in her eyes, Ameril knew she'd been dancing too long. She had never planned on making this a career. Yet already she felt like she'd been at it for eons. Closing her eyes, Ameril turned away from the mirror, the decision clear. Tonight would be her last dance. And after that ... Jake Macmillan could go to hell! "Are you sure you want to do this, Ameril?" Flavia asked, tapping her on the shoulder to regain her attention. Ameril stared once more at the woman in the mirror, before turning what she hoped was a determined gaze toward Flavia. "Yes. It's time." Fred's loud voice echoed through the club with insistence, causing heads to turn and anticipation to heighten. 19


"Alright, gentlemen, we have a special treat for you. Get those bills, hundreds I mean, ready for the treat of your lives. Tonight, I'm bringing to the stage a special lady. She's been missing from action for a while, but she's back with a vengeance dancing to one of my favorite bands. So, be prepared to moan ... scream ... and holler ... FOOOORRRR ... Amy!" Ameril didn't feel the carpet beneath her feet or the men staring at her with lust. It was as though the world faded away, so only she could hear the music pounding through the speakers. Swaying her hips, the high stilettos moved her body in captivating angles as she walked up the stairs, the strident strings of Soundgarden's "Rusty Cage" echoing loudly. The music took hold of her like it always did, and Ameril lost herself, letting the beats lead her motions, her hips bumping in sequence and rolling with a rhythm she knew looked pagan, forbidden. Grabbing one of the poles placed at the end of the stage, Ameril bent forward, sweeping her long golden tresses until the strands rested between her legs at the base of her spread ankles. The super-short skirt she wore rose to just under her butt cheeks, highlighting her muscular limbs. The crisp, red satiny material of her g-string stretched until it nestled like a glove against her shaved pussy. As she trailed one hand up the soft curve of her inner thigh, teasing and enticing, Ameril swayed her hips back and forth with flourish, before finally raising her head so she stood straight and tall. 20


Tensing the muscles in her arms, so they acted as an anchor, she kicked both her white stilettos from the floor. Inherent motion rotated her entire body with the force of inertia, and Ameril held to the golden symbol of virility, while her long legs formed a tilted 'V'. Loud, raucous cheers greeted her skilled, acrobatic movements, but she tuned the sounds out once more, concentrating on her actions and the music. Bending her left leg at the knee to clasp the pole, making sure to keep her grip firm, Ameril slid downward like a talented enchantress until the tips of her shoulders touched the floor. Her back now resting prone, she let her thighs fall wide to the side, utilizing her hands to caress the clothed portions of her breasts and stomach; the strident rhythms making her hips grind against the floor. Dark, dirty green bills floated around, drifting about like tributes to a heathen goddess. Indeed, she felt powerful and very aware. Rolling onto her stomach, the men in the club hollered again as she rose on all fours like a female panther stalking prey. Ameril couldn't hear them, though. All her senses were frozen on the one man amongst the crowd who didn't cheer. She almost flinched backwards when he rose suddenly from his seat. His thick, wavy dark brown hair tousled, as though he'd been running his fingers through it repeatedly. His jaw clenched into a merciless frown of retribution. He's going to leave, Ameril thought, while at the same time cursing herself for feeling anything about it. 21


Yet ... he didn't. Instead, the darkly clad figure sat back down, his large, manicured fingers clutched around a silver money clip. Without a care, he tossed the money on the stage. Ameril paused, knowing what that meant. The bills would be nothing but hundreds, probably thousands of dollars. The course of his actions was crystal clear. Jake Macmillan had made it known numerous times. He would pay anything and everything for her—and he would not be denied. Ameril couldn't help the slight prickles of awareness moving down her spine. His commanding ways should frighten her, but instead she felt a pull so strong she had difficultly denying it. She should be outraged. Instead, she felt a slow burn of warmth generating deep inside her belly, the feeling spread, moving outward and into her limbs. Scowling, she pushed the dangerous feelings from her body with force, and lowered her head to sweep her hair along the black-topped stage. Fred only played two minutes of each song, and if her internal counting was correct, "Rusty Cage" would soon be followed by "Outshined". Ameril usually liked to wait to take her clothes off, the first song being the intro—the prelude to desire. Yet this time, things had to be different.

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Creeping toward Jake, Ameril arched her back, pushing her cloth-laden breasts downward so her distended nipples scraped the floor. Jake narrowed his eyes, staring at her with a hard, cold expression. Specters of vulnerability crawled across her skin, but still she pressed forward as her ears picked up on the abrupt shift in the music; to the beating drums telling her the rhythm had changed. Shifting back onto her haunches, Ameril undulated her body until both her legs pushed outward. She crossed her ankles to steady her movements until she landed horizontally in front of Jake, her heels facing him. From this position he'd be able to see her body highlighted by all the seductive bumps and curves. Without conscious thought, her thighs fell to either side, allowing him—and only him—an up-close and personal view every man in the club was aching to glimpse. Her hands touched her g-string, pulling the fabric so it massaged against her clit. She knew the fleshy lips of her pussy were peeking past the thin line, but Ameril didn't care. She was angry, frustrated and hurt. The reckless need to punish Jake was all she could think about. This is what he wanted, a body designed to please him. Well, she'd show him. Rocking on her spine to bring her legs beneath her so she could rise to a standing position, Ameril looked down at Jake with fury rioting through her pores. The dangerous emotions coursing through her body were in tune with the violent song blaring from the speakers. Beats 23


roaring in her head like drums of war, she grabbed one of the spaghetti straps on her shoulders, pulling on the thin material until it left her skin to reveal one plump breast. Antagonism, dark and scorching hot, fired the blood in her veins. She hated the way he made her feel, and even now when she was in control Jake easily held the reins. The crowd cheered, but Ameril kept her stare glued to the dark, powerful man below her as she walked in a slow circle above him, finally tearing free the rest of her dress. Clad now in only her red g-string and stilettos, she kicked loose the material pooled around her ankles, absently watching it float to the back of the room. Two quick and hasty moves later, she removed her flimsy panties. Jake stayed still, his hands pinned to his side, a muscle ticking in his jaw, his eyes promising retribution later. Ameril lifted the corners of her lips in return, taunting him, but her smile wasn't one of seduction, it was one of challenge. Lowering on all fours like a sleek cat, she slowly rocked forwards and backwards, her actions mimicking a man—this man in front her—fucking her from behind. Her naked body flushed from her dance, Ameril crawled closer toward Jake, using the golden rail around the stage to steady her until her lips were inches from his face. The people in the club would think she was working to entice him, but she knew better. "Is this what you want?" she asked, her free hand grazing across her breasts. "You want to fuck me?" 24


The look blazing from his eyes answered the question without him even uttering a word. As he leaned closer, Ameril could see Jake's chest heaving with exertion. "You push when you should retreat, Ameril." "I'm trying to make a point," she gritted through clenched teeth, frowning at his fearless expression. "This is it! No more. I won't be back here tomorrow or the next night. Find some other girl to fixate on and leave me alone." Even though the music played loudly, there was deafening silence after her statement. Jake's lips pinched tight. Under the colored lights the angry flush highlighting his cheeks made him look harsh— unforgiving. "Go put some clothes on before I beat your delectable little ass, Ameril." "You don't own me, Jake. This thing between us ... it's over and I better never, ever see you again." Jake smiled, but Ameril could still see the anger sparking in his eyes. "Get. Off. This. Stage. Or I swear to God, Ameril, you will regret this moment for as long as you live." Rearing back, she couldn't help but take note of the seriousness in Jake's tone. Her eyes wide, she rose shakily on her heels, ignoring the shouts around her, ignoring the fact that the set was still playing. Moving toward the stairs, not even pausing to collect her money, Ameril ran like a fleet-footed gazelle. Absently she noticed Flavia standing at the bottom of the stairs, a worried look in her eyes. 25


"I'll get your stuff and deal with Rachel. Get out of here ... while you still can." Ameril took heed of the words this time, and ran as fast as her stilettos would allow for the dressing room, remembering Jake's heated words. Don't play with fire. You'll get burned.

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Chapter 2 Ameril hit the door like the hounds of Hell were biting at her heels. She couldn't get in the dressing room fast enough. Breathing harshly, she leaned against the wooden panels, trying to catch her breath. Her knees shook and she grabbed them, bending over to steady their restless shaking. She didn't care about the gazes staring at her. Nor the hushed silence stealing about the room. The only thing on her mind was getting out of the club as quickly as she could. Kicking off her five-inch heels, she walked with haste on her normal 5'4" frame, toward her locked possessions located in the back corner. When she kneeled next to her three-foot, gold trimmed green chest, Ameril recounted the numbers in her head, twisting the knob of her combo lock until it fell open in her hand. Pushing up the lid, she dug around until she found a comfortable t-shirt, a pair of sweats, and brassiere. The stale scent of body spray hung in the air, and she wiped at her nose, huffing, as she donned the bra and reached around her back to fasten the clasp. Next she pulled on her t-shirt, sweats, and a spare set of running shoes she kept for emergencies. "You're not planning on leaving are you?" Gasping, Ameril started, looking up into Rachel Carter's narrowed hazel-green stare.

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"I-I have to go. I can't work tonight," she sputtered to the newest manager of the Classy Lady. "Some things have come up and I have to leave." Rachel shook her head, peering down. "Ameril, I can't keep tolerating this. You are one of the best performers, but your behavior of late has been shoddy. When Melissa comes back, I'm going to have to tell her about this." Anxiety trilled down her spine. This conversation was taking too long. Jake would know she was leaving ... and he'd be waiting. "Fine! Tell her. I don't care. I have to leave though." "What in the world is going on? Is there someone out there bothering you?" Flinching, Ameril paused for a moment, her fingers clutching her purse. She would have liked to say Jake Macmillan was harassing her, but she couldn't lie about the situation—or him. She was the problem, her own restless desire for a man who scared the living daylights out of her made for a complicated life. She really couldn't explain all that to Rachel. Closing the lid of her chest, locking and twisting the combo lock, Ameril pulled the thick fall of her hair from her collar, before shifting to face Rachel. "Look. I just have to go. There are a lot of things going on right now, things I can't discuss. If you're going to fire me, fine. But, I have to go." Rachel scrutinized her for a moment longer, slanting her chin to the side before a faint resignation appeared in her 28


eyes. "Get out of here. Just be sure to call tomorrow, so I know you're safe." Ameril lifted her lips, hoping it resembled a smile, before pulling the strap of her purse higher on her shoulder. "Thanks, Rachel. I appreciate it." Hesitating, she stared around the room. "Can I use the back door? The one near the private areas?" Rachel inclined her head again and sighed, "Sure." Why didn't she tell Rachel this was her last night? Shaking her head, Ameril decided it didn't matter. This would be her last night at the Classy Lady. She couldn't take one more moment here because she knew Jake would never give in. As the depressing thought of leaving a place she'd learned to call a second home careened in her mind, she turned her head to look once more at the dressing room. She grinned sadly, memories invading her mind, before dismissing the thoughts and moving toward the exit. If she was lucky, she could make it out the back entrance without being noticed. Pushing open the door leading into the dim interior of the club, Ameril waited a moment for her eyes to adjust. Hazy shapes formed into solid images and she stepped forward, moving against the walls like a thief stealing from the coffers. "Ameril," a hushed voice called, sounding above the music. With a frightened gasp, she turned to face the whispered tones. "What is it, Flav? I'm about to leave." "I know, but I wanted to give you this," Flavia murmured, thrusting a fist full of money into nerveless fingers. "I got 29


your clothes too, but I'll put them in my locker. I'll cash you out with Rachel from my own pocket, and you can just pay me back later." "Thanks," Ameril said, her chest tightening with gratitude. "May the blessings of the Goddess go with you, girl, 'cause you're going to need them." Blessings of the Goddess? "Thanks again Flav. I just hope somebody's something is with me." Laughing, Flavia grabbed hold of Ameril's arms, pulling her into a light embrace. "They are. Trust in yourself, you can handle this. Everything in your life has prepared you for this moment. Remember that." Ameril wasn't sure about that. Nothing in her life had prepared her for Jake Macmillan. Smiling once more at Flavia, she turned and rushed out the door. There were really only three things a person could do if they were being stalked. Call the police. That was the most careful and well thought out plan of attack. Hide out or move to another town. That was a less developed idea, but still very efficient. Or ... they could try and ignore the threat. That was the notion risked by fools and idiots Ameril admitted to herself, as she peeked around the shadowed corners of the building. She'd definitely been on the course of plan number three. 30


Sighing, careful to keep her breathing quiet, Ameril realized she might have done a lot of things different, but none of that really mattered now. The only important option was getting to her car and driving off. Glimpsing her Dodge in the distance, she figured it would take her a full thirty seconds to reach the driver's side if she ran like hell. Yanking her keys from the bottom of her handbag, she tossed a look at her feet. Just Do It. Heeding the motto, Ameril moved rapidly, her legs pumping in a sprint. The light above her glared, and she cursed under her breath, wishing she could have some darkness. Her red leather purse bounced at her side, and she placed a hand against the soft material, keeping it closer to her body. She was almost there, the dusty exterior of her car gleamed in the yellowish lights, and she breathed deeply, fumbling with the keys. A thick, plastic insignia rubbed against her fingers and Ameril grasped the electronic opener in her hands, aiming it to open the door. Even from a distance, she could hear the click of locks snapping open and she stumbled slightly in relief. The length of the parking lot still stretched between her and the car, so she ran faster, her soft soles pounding against the pavement. She would make it. She could feel success beating in tune with the rapid pace of her heart. There wasn't anyone following her. Jake wasn't following her. 31


Landing against the door with a huff, Ameril grasped the cool metal of the door handle. The whishing sounds of cars speeding by sounded in her ears, and she pictured herself as one of those speeding motorists, riding off into the night. Opening the door, ready to get inside, Ameril wasn't prepared for the large hand slamming it shut, or his other one hand grasping the heaving column of her throat. "Are you going somewhere?" Dropping her keys, she sputtered, "No ... just go away, Jake. I don't want this!" "I'll tell you what you want and don't want from now on, Ameril. And, you already know these little games you play are useless." His harsh voice whispered against her ear. "Now it's my turn to play with you." "Please go away, Jake. I don't want you," she gasped, her chest pounding with the effort. "You are such a liar. You don't think I can't feel the trembling?" His frame pressed closer, his large, hardened cock pushed against her buttocks. "You don't think I know what you want ... what you need?" "You don't know anything about me. I'm just a body. Someone you want to fuck! Someone you want to control." "Is that the reason why you went on stage and showed those men what's mine?" His hot breath muffled in her hair. "I told you not do that." She leaned forward, his grasp against her throat lessened, and Ameril laid her head against the metal of her car. "You don't own me, Jake." 32


"I do own you, body and soul, Ameril. You'd best never forget it either," he muttered, before pulling at the cinched waistband of her sweats. "I had wanted to take this slow, but you pushed and pushed and pushed. Now you have to pay the consequences. I would ask if your pussy is wet, but I don't need to because I know it is. I could see it from the stage," he muttered. Feeling her pants drop to her knees, Ameril tried to struggle against Jake, but the hand on her neck moved to clutch her nape as his large frame pressed her harder against the car, halting any further movement. Dimly Ameril realized that in her haste she'd forgotten to put on underwear, leaving her vulnerable. With just a simple flick of his wrist, she was open to Jake, the cooling breeze of the night caressing across her naked buttocks. Distant portions of her mind continued to struggle against his dominance, but as his rich cologne scent fanned around her, the need to submit, the desire to give over all control, pulsed through her. The tip of Jake's cock pushed into the folds of her wet cunt, and her mind screamed with desire. Her hips bucked, welcoming him further into her. I want him. Lord help me. I want him so bad. He thrust deep inside. Hard and strong just as she remembered; Ameril was powerless to oppose the virile thrusts lifting her to her tippytoes. "Who does this pussy belong to?" 33


"You!" she panted, feeling the full length of his cock pumping over and over. "Tell me who it belongs to. Say my name, so I know it belongs to me." "Oh God, Jake! You OWN me. I swear to God!" Jake groaned, leaned his chest against her back, his thick girth pounding into her flesh. Ameril's breasts smashed against the window of her car as he continued to stroke, plunging into her body without remorse, his testicles slapping against the tissues of her cunt. "Then why were you up on that stage showing all those men the body that belongs to me?" "I-I don't know. I-I didn't mean it. I-I swear. Please ... please don't stop," she whimpered. "Do you want me to keep fucking you, Ameril?" "Yes," she moaned, helpless under the onslaught. Jake growled, released the hold on her neck, and clasped both his large hands on her waist to lift her tennis-shoed feet from the ground. Now completely on a level with his pulverizing thrust, Ameril screamed for mercy, hearing her heated cries echo into the night. Shifting her blurry gaze, the door of the Classy Lady materialized, and Ameril realized they were still in the parking lot. Anyone who happened to come out of the club would see them. There would be no denying what was going on. "Someone will see us," she moaned, knowing she'd be helpless to stop Jake if he wanted to show the world their lust. 34


"You don't want them to see me owning you," Jake gritted, "but you'll show them your body?" His logic was astounding, but with the pleasure rippling through her, Ameril could do no more than scream again. Jake fucked her like their very lives were at stake, deeply thrusting into her pussy. She had no control whatsoever over the hard, plunging strokes. Clenching her palms, her fingertips scratched against the surface of her car as cascades of sheeting fire washed through her, and suddenly an orgasm, unlike any she'd ever known, rocked her body. The clenched muscles of her pussy contracted on his cock, and Jake grunted low in his throat, his body tensing— hardening—with expectant release. "God, baby! I just want to take care of you. That's it," he breathed, seconds before hot fluid splashed against her insides. Cars rolled by and the bright lights of the parking lot continued to shine, but Jake kept his cock lodged inside her pulsing pussy. Out of control and daunted by the power of their mating, Ameril laid her head against the cool metal of her Neon, breathing erratically. She needed another minute or two to regroup, but a sudden, loud spate of guttural laughter made her tense in horror. Jake acted quickly, wrapping his muscular arms around her upper torso, his cock shuddering inside her sensitive pussy as 35


he walked them toward the darkened concealed corner of the parking lot. Shadowed in the darkness, Ameril waited, her breath blowing out in smoky gasps. Several doors slammed at once, and the sound of an engine turned over. The crunch of tires rolling against the pavement signaled the departure of their unknowing companions. Sighing, she let her body droop with languid tiredness. The weight of her frame sagged, and Jake finally let her feet fall to the ground. As soon as her shoes touched the pavement, she was unsteady, wobbly. Easing against Jake's hard planes, she used him like an anchor, even though a part of her mind knew that was a bad idea. "Relax, baby. I've got you." Lowering her head until her chin rested against her chest, Ameril sighed. "I know you've got me, Jake. Problem is you don't want to let go." "I can't, Ameril. When I close my eyes at night all I can see is you." "I can't do this, Jake. You-you and I ... we aren't suited." He turned her limp body to face him. His handsome, shadowed face peered down at her. "Says who?" Jake asked. She wished there was better light. The haunting darkness made her want to believe in the veracity of his words. "What do I have to do to make you trust me, Ameril? I've already put everything..." he stopped, exhaling noisily, "everything on hold for you. But I still can't make a move 36


until you say you're ready. I need you, Ameril, like I know you need me." Stepping away, Ameril grabbed at the sweat pants pooled around her feet. "I can't ... I'm not the girl you want. I-I just can't..." "Can't what?! Tell me, Ameril. What the fuck is this all about?" "I can't be the person you need me to be. I just ... can't," she whispered, her chest pummeled by the emotions reeling inside. Jake stared at her for a long moment, his eyes narrowed to brown slits of fire. The harsh angles created from the darkness of the corner made him look grim beyond measure. "That's not good enough." "Well, I don't know what else to tell you," she screamed. "I knew you'd be determined to do this the hard way. Get your things. We're leaving." "I'm not going with you, Jake." The pupils of his eyes dilated until the color appeared almost black. He stepped forward, his tall frame seductive, yet menacing at the same time. "You're not?" Ameril couldn't stop the frisson of fear and desire crawling through her belly. A part of her knew it was insane to want a man whose power made her fear him in the extreme, but she couldn't help herself. The trepidation heightened her arousal, making her aware of his smell, his stance ... his mood. "I can't keep doing this, Jake. You're driving me crazy," she sighed, nervously running her fingers through her hair. 37


Determination blazed from his eyes. "Get your things," he repeated. Right then and there, Ameril knew Jake wouldn't take no for an answer. Shaking her head, she felt her will bowing to his. "Where are we supposed to be going?" "You'll find out when we get there."

38


Chapter 3 Jake ground his jaw hard enough when Ameril pulled against his hold that he thought he might break a molar. "I want to know where we're going." She had no idea what type of fire she was playing with and it was best to keep it that way ... for now. Narrowing his eyes, he kept his voice controlled. "I said, you'll find out when we get there." "I won't go with you unless I know where we're going." "Did you think I was giving you a choice?" Ameril looked startled, her mouth forming a delicate moue. "There are always choices, and I'm choosing not to go with you. So forget it." "But I just told you, Ameril. You don't have a choice." "I'm not going with you, Jake!" He laughed, listening to the tremor shaking her voice. "But you want to." A telltale blush highlighted the oval shape of her face. "That doesn't mean I should." Ameril stood so close to the precipice of desire, she was bound to plummet. He didn't want to hurt her. The gleam in her crystal blue eyes made him yearn to hold her close, assure her everything would be alright, but he couldn't let this situation continue on any longer. Regretting that there wasn't another way, he lifted her chin so her gaze was level with his. "Is this all you have with 39


you?" he asked, inclining his head toward the red leather bag lying on the pavement. "Is this all you have with you," he asked again, enunciating each word. "Yes," she whispered, trying to avert her eyes, but not, he noted, trying to pull away from his body. The first step in overcoming her resistance had been accomplished. Since he had met Ameril, that fateful night over a month ago, he'd taken it upon himself to discover everything about her. He'd watched her enough to know when she was discontent, angered, or worried. He also knew, first hand, when she was pleased, happy and excited. Right now though, she looked scared, aroused and desperate. He'd cataloged each of her expressive features in his mind, reviewing them at his leisure, wondering what chemical compositions in her body made her act the way she did. Feisty and bold. That was the way he would describe his beautiful and spirited lover. She had a temper. She was determined when needs be, and she was loyal to her friends. All those qualities were to be admired ... cherished. As he stared into her upturned face, he knew he was the only man for her. His soul called to hers. At night, when the ambient sounds of the city would quiet, his mind and body reached for hers. He wanted Ameril with him ... forever. No other woman would do. 40


He knew what days she worked at the Classy Lady, so then and only then would he come to the club. He never danced with any of the other painted face beauties, he kept his whole focus on Ameril, waiting and watching. She'd come, see him and leave. That had been the pattern at first. The few times she did stay, she didn't dance with anyone, but after a couple of weeks had passed, she began to take a few customers behind the smoky glass walls leading to the private couches. Each time she disappeared behind the barrier with some intrigued, following fool, he had to restrain himself from going in after her. He knew those moments were meant to scare him, hurt him. The few times they'd spoken in the intervening weeks, Ameril always had a choice repertoire of curse words and platitudes lined up. The last time they'd spoken, he told her what he would do if she ever danced for another man, or on stage, again. His words had been hard, cruel even, but he'd been deadly serious. He'd known, even then, that he put her in an unenviable position. Of course, she had to work, but the time was fast approaching to bring her rebelliousness to heel, and Jake felt pushed to the limit. Up until tonight, she'd followed his dictates. Tightening his jaw with suppressed fury, Jake thought back to the sight of her lithe, enthralling body ascending to the stage. He had, at first, felt a consuming surge of lust, but 41


when his gaze roamed around the room, looking into the eyes of the men staring at her. His desire had turned into a rage. She'd defied him, pulling the very card that had been saving her ass all along. He had told her there would be consequences, now she was going to find out for herself. "Get your keys and your purse." Several moments passed but Ameril didn't move. "Fine then, we'll leave it here," Jake growled, pulling her away. "Wait. I-I'll get them," she muttered, retrieving her handbag. Unerringly, his gaze fell to her heart-shaped ass and his cock twitched with desire. Jake knew, deep down inside his soul, every portion of her body was made for him. He could never have enough of her, and what he felt for Ameril revolved around more than just sex and domination. He nodded toward her car. "Lock the doors," he commanded. Mutinously, she raised her hand, pointing the electronic opener and triggering the locks. Jake smiled. "Good girl," he murmured. "You're learning." **** "Wake up, Ameril." Startled, Ameril immediately woke, twisting in the plush leather seat, pinned by the safety restraint crisscrossing her torso. 42


Wiping a speck of sleep from her eyes, she looked past the open car door at the line of trees reaching up to the emerging dawn. Drops of dew twinkled from the leaves, and in the distance she could hear the squeak of birds crying aloud. The fresh scent of unpolluted air teased her nostrils. Looking around, Ameril surmised that they must have been driving for a long time. They'd left the club around midnight, but already the bright haze from the sun filtered around, making her blink. "Where are we?" "At my brother's cabin in Mammoth Lakes." Ameril frowned, her brows creasing. What the hell? Mammoth had to be at least six hundred miles from the club. "What are we doing here?" she asked, still fastened to her seat, her hands resting in her lap, fingers twitching. Jake leaned his head to the side, peering at her. "Get out of the car," he ordered. Staying silent, Ameril observed his rude behavior with mute resistance. "Don't make me carry you inside. I guarantee you'll not like the results if I do." Resting one muscled arm against the roof of the vehicle, Jake blocked any escape she might have thought to make. As she raised her gaze, Ameril stared into his face for a brief moment before running her eyes down the rest of his body. Jake looked rumpled—well as rumpled as a rich and powerful man could look—in his dark gray pants and expensive black, buttoned shirt. His hair bore the distinct 43


resemblance of someone who had spent hours running fingers through it. But his brown eyes were sharp, alert. He didn't look tired in the least. More moments passed as Ameril debated whether or not she should get out of the car. Again, her gaze roamed around the lush, green scenery, the cackle of wildlife echoing in her ears. Sighing, conceding this first round to Jake, Ameril undid her seat belt and lifted her stiff legs, flexing at the knee, before stepping on the crunchy ground beneath her feet. She wobbled, shuddering with fatigue. She hadn't slept in a passenger seat since— Banishing the errant thought, she looked up at Jake. "Is force the only way you know?" "It's the only way I know with you. Now please let's get into the house. It's cold out here." "Don't make me think you're suffering." Ameril glared at him. "I know you're not cold." "No, but it is time to go inside. I'm not going to let you sit out here all day." "Why not?" "Because I said so. Now move it." Ameril rolled her eyes before stepping under the fixture of his arm. "You were a bully in school, weren't you? A big mean, bully who stole other kid's lunch money for the hell of it, right?" Ignoring the spate of laughter behind her, Ameril walked up the driveway, careful to keep her features poised. The imposing structure took her breath away. 44


A huge log cabin, like something from the prairie days of old, stood nestled amongst the magnificence of nature. Painted in a light brown color, offsetting the rich greenery, the house brought forth ideas of home and hearth. Everything about the place beckoned to easier, softer times of the past. The half circles of logs lining the frame, the swinging bench gracing the front corners of the porch, swaying haplessly with the wind, the thick-framed windows placed strategically around the exterior. Modern, yet aged, Ameril had never seen a more beautiful building. "This place is magnificent," she wondered aloud, impressed. "My brother and I helped to build it," Jake answered, pride evident in his tone. "You and ... Steve built this?" she asked, unable to stop the disbelief in her voice. "We didn't do it all by ourselves, but we did spend an entire year here hammering, sawing and lifting." Shaking her head, Ameril glanced at him. "Why?" "Because we both needed it," he said simply. There was more behind his quick retort than Jake let on, Ameril knew, but let it go because she already liked him too much. More knowledge about him would make it harder to let him go, and she would have to let him go. A cold wind blew through the trees, shaking leaves and dislodging pinecones. Ameril rubbed her bare arms, goose bumps rising along her flesh. Stepping forward, she looked over the house once more, before turning her gaze toward the forest in the background. 45


Turning back toward Jake, she lifted her chin, gathering her strength. "I don't know why you brought me here. I won't be your little woman." "But you're already my woman, Ameril," he disagreed, closing the gap between them, his heated hands caressing and warming her skin. "I don't know what I have to do to convince you of it, but I am determined. I know what I want. And ... I want you." Ameril laughed. "This isn't the Cro-Magnon era. You can't just drag me off by my hair. I have a job, school ... and things I need to do." "Tell me, Ameril. Look at me and tell me you don't shut your lids at night and see me behind them. Tell me, honestly," he paused, grasping hold of her cold hands, "but you have to look at me and tell me this." A rush of air escaped from her lungs, mixing with the howling wind. "I can't deny that, Jake. I-I can't say that I don't think of you, but this ... thing between us. That's all it is. Just a thing," she whispered. "It's more than that, Ameril." "Jesus, Jake. I don't know what to say! You want me to tell you that I can't stop thinking about you ... then fine. I can't stop thinking about you. But none of that matters! You and I can't be together. This..." Ameril yanked her arms from his grasp, putting some distance between them. "This isn't going to work! I have a life a-and it doesn't include you." Jake clenched his fist, his breath whistling through his teeth. 46


Afraid she had pushed him too far. Ameril took a hasty step back. "Your life and mine are threaded together, Ameril. Believe me, I've thought about it. I will have you. There's nothing you can do to stop it." "What if I want to stop it?" Jake smiled, his pearly white teeth straight and glistening. "You are most welcome to try." Ameril expected that answer, but still she frowned at him, hoping to convey her displeasure. For as long as she had known Jake, his dominance, determination and zeal were the most glaring aspects of his personality. She'd known that, yet still had thrown a gauntlet to him the first evening they'd met ... five thousand dollars for a dance. That's what brought her to this juncture. Had she heeded Alex's fraught tension that fateful night, and turned around to head back toward the dressing room, she wouldn't be standing here today. But she'd been drawn, almost against her will, toward him, and from that day forth, things had never been the same. Her gaze moved over Jake, and tingles coursed down her spine. At the time, she'd denied the feelings to herself, and Alex, but later when he kept coming back to the club, she couldn't stop the feelings from taking control. Nevertheless, the fear of his encompassing nature allowed her to keep her distance.

47


Now, as she stood here looking at him, a scant three feet separating them, Ameril wondered what it was about Jake that had made her step to him so boldly? She'd spent a lifetime raised in the school of hard knocks. She knew danger when she saw it, knew when to confront, when to retreat. So, why did you ever go up to him in the first place? The question in her mind begged to be answered, but Ameril shook her head, turning away from Jake to look back at the cabin. "I have to go back on Monday. If you want to have a weekend fling ... fine, but this can't go any further. I-I don't want it to go any further. I can't be the person you want." The sound of crunching gravel sounded behind her. Lowering her head to her chest, she waited as his rich fragrance of spicy, tantalizing cologne surrounded her. Arms like steel bands crossed her chest, nestling under her breasts, pulling her close to a heated source of warmth ... and comfort. "We'll see about that." The heated words were whispered across her ear and it was as though a storm of anxiety released in her body. She bowed down to the feelings, afraid and beguiled. She couldn't help herself. Again her gaze lifted toward the vivid, encompassing scene around her, and the severity of the situation finally dawned on Ameril.

48


She was alone with a forceful, demanding and dominant man, one she was drawn to even as everything in her tried to resist. If she couldn't stop Jake from taking control of her life, no one would be able to save her. No one.

49


Chapter 4 Ameril followed Jake into the house. She would have liked to say her feet moved with reluctance, but she walked behind him willingly, her eyes wandering over the mahogany paneling in the foyer with admiration. "If you want to get cleaned up a bit, there are three bathrooms down here. The one through that door is the main one. The other ones adjoin to the bedrooms. Through this door here is the kitchen. Margie keeps it well stocked with non-perishable items, but I'll give her a call later and I'm sure she'll bring by some other stuff." He smiled, leading her through the large interior of the den. "She'll even whip it up into something edible, since I don't think you'd survive my cooking." "Not much of a chef, huh?" Jake laughed. "I have other talents," he murmured, pointing upstairs with a smirk. "There are five bedrooms, three upstairs and two downstairs. The whole layout is pretty basic, so I don't think you'll have any problems getting around." Ameril shook her head. "I'm not going to familiarize myself with your house." "Steve actually owns it, but over the years it's become a retreat for the entire family." "I'm not family though, am I?" she grumbled. "You and I both know why we are here, and it's not for rest and relaxation." 50


"Give it a break, will you," he sighed. "If I only wanted to fuck you, we could have stayed in that parking lot." Ameril opened her eyes wide at his crude words, before she blinked back the sudden welling of tears. "Yes. That's my point exactly. You didn't have to bring me here. The whole friggin' world is at your fingertips. What do you want with me?" "You still have a lot of things to learn, Ameril, if you can't figure that out for yourself." "I know what it is. I'm your new novelty. Some little toy for you to play with." "You cheapen yourself by saying that." "How dare you," she gasped, taking a step closer, wanting to slap his arrogant face. Jake shook his head, his eyes narrowing as he took a step toward her. "How dare me? For more than a month now, I've let you lead me around in circles. I've let you play the tune because I wanted to give you time ... space." He took another haunting step forward, his gaze scary. "I don't know whose mistakes I'm paying for, but the cost will be settled, Ameril. I will not play these games with you any longer." He turned, stalking away, though before he reached the stairs he called over this shoulder, "Don't even think of leaving either. I will come after you, and I can guarantee that I won't be as nice as I am now." With that, Jake finally left the room, marching up the steps, leaving Ameril all alone with her thoughts. For a moment, she debated about taking the keys lying on the small coffee table. She could drive herself home. It would 51


take a while, but she'd get there. The only thing stopping her was that she seriously believed Jake's threat. He would come after her. There wasn't a shadow of doubt in her mind. Truly, he was a man of his word. No matter how hard she tried to avoid him, she'd have to face him eventually. Still pondering the consequences of such an action, she made her way to the bathroom Jake had mentioned so she could wash up. She would have loved to take a shower, but since she didn't have any clothes to change into. She'd have to settle for a quick birdbath. Finishing up, a groan of hunger rumbled through her stomach. Turning the bottom of her wrist upward so she could look at her watch, she realized that the last time she'd eaten had been hours ago. Starvation, even if a part of her did want to go on a hunger strike, wasn't acceptable. She made her way through the swinging doors on her right, remembering Jake said it led to a kitchen. Ameril took a moment to admire the layout, complete with an island countertop stove, top-of-the-line appliances, and numerous mahogany cabinets. The kitchen matched the rest of the house's rustic, homey interior, and as she searched through the refrigerator, she frowned over the numerous bottles of water. She hoped the freezer would have more to offer, but was disappointed as she stared at trays of ice cubes. The house was beautiful, but barren didn't begin to describe the inside of the refrigerator. Crossing her fingers, Ameril moved on to the cabinets.

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When she opened them it was as though a band of angels' sang a full-bodied chorus in her head. Before her was an array of freshly canned, homemade goods. She grabbed the nearest one, reading aloud the handprinted label, complete with an expiration date. "Minestrone." Pulling down jar after jar, she continued, "Beef and Vegetables. Chicken n' Dumplings. Harvest Stew." Ameril moved on to the next cabinet "Apples. Peaches. Cherries." There was a whole range of goods. Everything that could be canned was up in these cabinets. She was sure of it. The question of her hunger solved, she moved around the kitchen to find some bowls and cutlery. She decided on the chicken and heated it in the microwave. For a dessert, Ameril settled on the canned peaches. Minutes later, full and pleasantly sated, she rinsed out the dishes before wandering through the rest of the downstairs area. She had no idea where Jake had disappeared to upstairs, but she had no plans to go and find out either. She needed to find a phone so she could call the club and Alex, but as she searched through the numerous rooms downstairs, she couldn't locate one. Settling on the sofa, she figured she'd call from her cell when she had another quiet, Jake-free moment. "I see you made yourself comfortable." Jake's deep voice startled Ameril, and she jumped up from her seat, her hand pressed to her chest. "Jeeze. You scared me." "Sorry, that wasn't my intention." 53


He sounded sincere. She almost believed him. "That's why you crept down the stairs without making any noise, right?" "You looked so involved. I didn't want to disturb you." Reluctantly Ameril's gaze wandered over his masculine frame. She took in his untucked, white buttoned shirt, black chino pants and slicked-back damp hair. Jake looked like a pirate. The only thing missing was the eye-patch. "Well, you scared me," she murmured, glancing away from him. "So, now that you've gotten me here. What are you going to do with me?" A slow grin spread across his face. "That sounds like an open invitation." "It's not," she denied, even though her body heated from the inside out. "Good. I don't think I could hang in any case. I just drove for six straight hours. The only thing I want is some food and some sleep." Ameril frowned. She wasn't supposed to be disappointed because he didn't want to have sex. What in the hell was wrong with her? "You have enough canned goods in the kitchen to feed a small army. I don't think food is going to be a problem." "Margaret Neri, a woman from town, comes by periodically and cleans. She also keeps the place well stocked for unexpected visits, but I need something a little more substantial than soup. There's a diner in town that serves breakfast all day," he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows at the doubtful look she gave him. 54


"I already ate." "Well, there's no law that says you can't watch me eat. Plus, we need to get you some clothes." Ameril pinched her lips tight. "I'll make do with what I have," she grumbled, looking down at her worn sweats. A few extra items wouldn't hurt and she definitely needed some, but she'd crawl across hot coals before she indebted herself to him. "Did you hear me giving you a choice? We are going to get something to eat and buy you some clothes," Jake paused, punctuating his command, with a casual shrug, "and that's it. So, grab your purse and let's go." Ameril wanted to argue, but she knew it would be futile. Moments later, seated next to him in his luxurious SUV, Ameril marveled at his stamina. "Aren't you tired?" "Yes, but now's not the time to sleep." "So, you're forcing yourself to stay awake?" "I'm doing what needs to be done." Jake's words struck her as odd. Most people didn't do what they needed. They responded to situations through habit and instinct. Choices would present themselves, but oftentimes folks traveled the easiest path, ignoring what needed to be done. Ameril had seen enough of that in her life to know it was true. Jake's quick acceptance of responsibility figured highly in his statement and Ameril filed the information away for later investigation. 55


She wanted to take a moment to glimpse her surroundings, but the ride to the diner was quick, taking no more than ten minutes. Jake was so fast parking the car in a spot near the entrance she barely had a moment to notice the other vehicles. There seemed to be quite a few for so early in a morning. Not wanting to take her purse inside, she reached inside, grabbed her small, pocket size wallet, and stuffed the soft leather handbag under her seat. Most of her personal identification, as well as her money and credit cards were located inside the small compacted leather. If she needed to leave quickly she could do so comfortably, leaving behind everything else. "How did you find this place?" she asked, opening the door to step onto the loose gravel. "I own it." Not at all surprised, Ameril shook her head. "I didn't mean the diner. I meant how did you ... or your brother find this place ... as in to live?" "It was a fluke really. Steve came up here to look over a resort he was thinking of buying." Ameril shifted her gaze to the traditional styled buildings across the street, glimpsing a lot of gourmet food stores and specialty shops. Obviously, this was one of the main thoroughfares of the town. Even though it was early morning, patrons were already bustling and moving to and fro. Most of them looked to be tourists or California weekend travelers. A few stood near a large fountain located near a brick lined structure that 56


resembled a court house she'd once seen pictured in an architecture magazine detailing America during the turn of the century. The city had obviously spent a great deal of money restoring the quaint charm to this town, and Ameril only needed one guess as to why. "So what, you and your brother rode in here like the great white hope and saved the dying town from bankruptcy?" She didn't mean to sound so condescending, but once the words had erupted she couldn't hold back. Jake slanted his eyes. "Yeah, something like that." "I'm sure the grateful citizens threw you and your brother a ticker tape parade. Bet that made you real happy." "Not really," he paused, "but my mom enjoyed it." Stopping in her tracks, Ameril sighed in exasperation. "Don't you ever get sick of controlling people? It can't be a lot of fun." "I don't know about that ... having someone who will do whatever you want, whenever you want." His long fingers, cooled by the breezy wind trailed along her jaw. "It's pretty intoxicating." A strong sense of awareness raised the delicate hairs on her arm as rampant desire tingled through her flesh. She wanted to deny it, reject the helpless feelings if she could, but as she stared into Jake's heavy lidded eyes, the feelings were too powerful to ignore. She took a deep breath, the fragrant fauna of her surroundings cascading through her nostrils, bringing life, 57


death, and every other inherent offering of nature to the fore. She felt like a fly caught in an unyielding web. "Why do you want this from me, Jake? You know I'm not capable of giving you what you want." "You're the only one for me, Ameril, the only soul that matches mine. Do you think I'd let that go?" As if waiting for an answer he tilted her chin upward, holding her gaze steady. "Nothing you do, will ever make me forget that ... nothing." "But I can't be that person, Jake. You already know this." "You will," he reiterated. "You will." A helpless entreaty caught upon her lips. What could she say? The man was like an earthquake determined to shake her loose. "Jake, you want more than I can offer, more than I could possibly hope to give. Please ... let me go." His gaze became flinty, hard like titanium. "No," he answered implacably, opening the clean, glass doors of the diner and ushering her inside. Ameril wanted to say more, but the hand against her back kept pushing her forward. Delicious smells assaulted her, freshly brewed coffee, baked bread and sweet, spicy cinnamon. Even though she wasn't hungry, her stomach responded to the thought of good food. Ameril spied the checkered top tables and booths decorated with numerous faux flowers. A long, brown counter stained from long years of use, ran from the entrance to the opposite wall, with four old-fashioned cake dishes spaced 58


evenly on top, housing what looked to be homemade coffee cake. In spite of herself, Ameril smiled. Right before she'd left Oklahoma, she'd dined in a restaurant just like this, one filled with goodness and warmth. It was probably the only tactile, happy moment she'd ever had in the OK state. She could still remember the waitress who had served her a platter of eggs and bacon for free before she boarded the bus headed toward Los Angeles because she said that Ameril looked like she needed it. "Jake! What are you doing here?" A loud, feminine voice called out. Startled, Ameril turned and watched as a petite, gray haired woman of about fifty rushed from behind the counter, a floral print hand towel flapping from her shoulder. Jake stepped forward, a wide smile on his face in greeting. "Margie, you know I can't resist your cooking for long." "Naughty boy. You'd say anything to appease an old woman." Ameril hoped they would continue to ignore her, but as she took a step back, attempting to blend in with the décor, Margie's piercing green stare halted her mid-stride. She took another step back, hoping to become invisible, but... "And who is this?" Jake moved his hand without turning his head and grabbed a hold of her waist, like he had radar in his fingertips. He pulled her forward, "Margie, this is Ameril Haverton." Jake inclined his head forward. "Ameril this is Margaret Neri." 59


Gingerly shaking the proffered hand, Ameril vaguely noted that Margie had soft, smooth skin, almost like the combination of butter and flour. "How do you do?" she asked, helplessly drawn to the woman's buoyant charm. "Oh, I could be doing better, but for the time being I'm doing fine, though I have to say seeing Jake here has really brightened my day." "You say that every time you see me, Margie. I'm starting to think it's not true," Jake teased. "How can you say that?" Margie threatened him with the snap of her towel. "I'm always glad when you stop by. It means you've taken a break from the hustle and bustle. Is Steve with you?" "No, he's in Washington with his fiancée. Her loud, excited shriek caused the other diners to turn and stare at them. "What? Steve's getting married? To who? When? Oh my gosh!" Ameril flexed her fist. The thought of Alex's impending marriage brought a flood of feelings she'd rather forget about, and she pushed them to the back of her mind. Margie kept talking a mile a minute, and somehow in between fielding endless questions, Jake finally found a way to steer them toward an empty booth in the corner. "Goodness. Where are my manners? Here I am jabbering away and I bet you two are hungry. Hold on and let me get you both some food." The talkative woman bounded away before Ameril could tell her she wasn't hungry. Sighing, she tried to scoot to the 60


other side of the 'U' shaped booth, valiantly trying to put more than an inch between her and Jake. "You know, you don't have to sit so close." "Yes, I do." "Why?" "Because I'm tired and might fall over. I need you to prop me up." Ameril snorted. "I haven't even seen you yawn." Jake smirked, flashing his pearly white teeth in a dashing smile. "What can I say, baby. You invigorate me." Margie returned with two large glasses of OJ, a plate of buttered toast and a small bowl of jam. "Jerome is already preparing your pancakes, sweetie, but I know how much you like my marmalade." "Thanks, Margie." "And you, dear, what can I get for you?" Ameril shook her head. "I'm not really hungry. I had something to eat earlier." She smiled at Margie's crestfallen expression. "One of your homemade soups actually. It was really good." "For breakfast? No-no, that won't do. Why don't I get you a nice helping of my potato pie with some bacon and eggs?" Margie frowned. "You're not on one of those low-carb diets, are you?" "No," Ameril assured her. "Good, I can't understand that myself. It's not healthy to stuff yourself full of meat." "But I'm really not hungry." 61


"Nonsense. I'll go put your order in," Margie said, completely oblivious to any denials. Ameril felt as though she was being sucked down a drain, like someone had pulled the plug on her life. Glancing under her lashes at Jake, sitting to her right, she knew immediately who that someone was.

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Chapter 5 Ameril had never seen a person pack away so much food in her life. Gaping at Jake, bewildered, she wondered where in the world it all went. There wasn't an ounce of fat on his muscular body. Already on a third stack of pancakes, she mused, there was no way he could eat like this on a regular basis. Jake relished each and every bite, licking at his fork and curving his lips in a smile of satisfaction, the expression on his face almost ... orgasmic. Blinking, upset at the sudden, sexual turn in her thoughts, she looked down at her own plate, taking in a mouthful. Margie was right. Her potato pie was excellent, tempting Ameril to eat more even though she wasn't hungry. When Jake leaned back, sighing and patting his rock-hard stomach, Ameril peeked over at him, grinning. "Don't stop now. You haven't licked your plate clean." "I thought you might like to try some," he murmured, leaning close to plant a gentle kiss on her neck. Ameril flinched, but didn't draw away. "No thank you," she whispered. "C'mon." Jake speared a piece of pancake with the tines, holding it close to her lips like she was a small child. "It's delicious." The thick juice from the syrup, apples and butter dripped onto the table, and onto her shirt, but Jake didn't seem to 63


care. He leaned even closer, his hot breath washing across her face. "Just one little bite," he cajoled, his tone heated with unveiled seduction. "I guarantee you'll like it." Reason, every single reason why she shouldn't, fled under a torrent of desire and Ameril inclined her head closer, accepting his offer. The tangy sweetness of the tart apples and rich maple syrup delighted her taste buds. Ameril chewed slowly savoring, her eyes glued to Jake's heated stare. "Is it good?" he asked seductively. "Yes." "Do you want some more?" Ameril knew Jake wasn't talking about food. She wanted to shake her head in denial, but it was like an electrical current had short-circuited her brain, magnetizing her body to his. His lips mere centimeters from hers, she could almost taste his essence just as strongly as the sweetness from the cinnamony pancakes coating her tongue. She shouldn't, but the need was so strong—so desperate— it was near impossible to resist him any longer. Without conscious thought, Ameril leaned into his embrace, sealing their mouths with a gentle kiss. Jake growled against her before his tongue caressed across her parted lips, his arm tightening around her waist to pull her closer into his embrace. The noise from the surrounding diners faded into a muffled lull as the kiss deepened into something powerful, erotic and heady. 64


Over and over Jake slanted his mouth across hers, taking command and pushing her boundaries to the maximum. The fact that he tasted of sweet, doughy pancakes made it harder to resist the drugging kiss. And the way he nibbled on her lips, sipping at them like fine wine, had her leaning closer for more. Jake was an expert kisser, and he knew it too. Like everything else, he took control, leading Ameril where he wanted her to go. His fingers trailed down the column of her neck, skimmed her aching nipple, and rested at the stretchy, cinched material of her waistband. Ameril started, gasped, and tried to pull away, her eyes darting around the crowded restaurant. No one was paying them the slightest bit of attention. All the other patrons were either engrossed in deep conversations, or hearty helpings of food. It was as if they were alone-but they weren't and Ameril was keenly aware of the fact. "Stop. Not here," she whispered. Jake smiled, and continued like he hadn't even heard her, the look in his eyes said he wasn't concerned about the time or the place. Ameril wondered again what in the world had possessed her to leave the club without any panties on. Though she figured, stifling a restless moan as his thumb glided by her clit, a thin scrap of underwear wouldn't have been much of a defense. Jake was like a marauder, taking whatever he wished— whenever he wished. 65


Ameril jumped slightly when he slipped one long digit into her aching pussy, her restless cunt clamped around him, sucking his finger deeper inside. Sweat beaded her brow, and she bit her lip to keep from groaning, desperately looking around the diner. "Shush, relax. No one is watching," Jake whispered. The look in his eyes was scorching hot as he continued to finger-fuck her cunt—sometimes using two fingers, sometimes three—but his index repeatedly strayed to her clit, rubbing and caressing the aching bud. She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out as a tight ball of fire began to unfurl in her belly, spreading first to her legs then upwards toward her breasts. She was having difficulty maintaining any semblance of control. Ameril gripped the table as terrible tremors shook through her body. She was so close to climaxing, she felt as though a cauldron of hot elixir had been poured over her body, singeing her nerve endings. Flexing and clenching the muscles in her vagina, she bowed her head, hoping to muffle the helpless cry careening up her throat. Any moment now she was going to burst into a thousand pieces. "Don't fight it, Ameril," Jake whispered close to her ear. "Let me give you what you want, what you know only I can give." God! His fingers felt like flexible pieces of steel designed to please, and his words were driving her crazy. She remembered what his hard cock felt like as it fucked inside her body, first slowly then harder and harder. Her body was 66


on fire, her mind giving in to the burning flame, she was ready— "So, did you two enjoy your meal?" Like a cold draft of water, Margie's voice washed over Ameril, intruding into thoughts a nice, sweet, matronly woman had no business being in. Jake, however, hardly seemed to notice. Lifting his head, he grinned. "It was wonderful. Thanks." "Anytime, dear." Margie's gaze swung toward Ameril, her eyes crinkling around the corners. "You still have a lot on your plate. Didn't you like my potato pie?" There were only two answers Ameril could have given, but Jake had yet to remove his fingers from her pussy. Thinking really wasn't an option. "Yes," she breathed, choosing option number one. "Oh well, I guess I could box it up for you, but eggs don't taste good if they aren't fresh. I mean, microwaves are great and all, but I've never understood why folks would want to re-heat eggs. It takes like five seconds to make them. I guess it's okay for meat and stuff, but eggs ... well ... that's just disgusting." Margie looked like she wanted to say more, but she shook her head, grabbing for the plates and cutlery on the table. "Why don't I come by later this evening so I can cook you two some dinner," she paused, picking up the glasses. "I've got Jenna with me though. Will that be a problem?" "No. Not at all, I'd love to see her," Jake assured, finally slipping his fingers from Ameril's twitching pussy. "Why don't you come by around six o'clock?" 67


"Is that okay with you, dear?" Ameril wondered why Margie would even bother to ask. Though, as her eyes wandered dazedly toward Jake's possessive hand burning like a brand on her waist, she figured they did look like the happy couple. If only she knew. "It's fine with me," Ameril muttered, though her body was still attempting to recover from Jake's ten-minute onslaught, and the crotch of her sweats felt like a giant flood had passed through. Jesus! She needed to cum—right here, right now—it really didn't matter where. Margie turned to leave, her gray hair flapping on a breeze. Ameril dropped her head, breathing in and out as she tried to regain some control. She looked up as Jake lifted her hand to his mouth, her gaze holding his as he licked and sucked the sticky cream from his fingers. The sensual curve of his lips caused another wave of awareness to roll through her body. "You alright?" he asked, his voice pitched low with mocking innocence. Her teeth clenched, she glared at him "No, I'm not alright. I thought food and sleep were the only things on your mind." "I lied." Ameril wanted to reach up and slap Jake across his handsome face. The smug bastard! She was only able to refrain from hitting him because he did give her a few moments to compose herself before hastily ushering her out of the diner. 68


The air served as a balm to her tingling nerves, and Ameril inhaled a deep breath taking in the cool essence of nature. Her body was violently aroused, but since the only person capable of providing satiation made her want to hurt him, she figured some needs were better left alone. Wrenching her wrist from his hand, Ameril marched toward the car. "You coming?" "We need to get you some clothes." It was on the tip of her tongue to tell Jake to "go to hell", but as she thought about her lack of panties, his neverending quest to get inside her pants, and her own rioting demands, she figured that discretion was the better part of valor. She reckoned a crowded store and more clothing might be the only deterrents she could muster. A thick pair of jeans, some bulky sweaters and some granny-panties would help— at least she hoped they would. Turning toward him, she smirked. "Sure. Let's go." **** As the cool haze of morning cleared away under the heat of the afternoon sun, Jake kept his hand on the small of Ameril's back, propelling her down the crowded street Her austere profile gave away little of her thoughts. No doubt his crazy, mixed up lover was trying to figure more ways to thwart him. Little did she know that he had made it his mission to out talk, out think, and out maneuver her at every turn. Ameril didn't stand a chance. No matter how hard she struggled. Already, he'd succeeded in putting her on edge. 69


Though, Jake admitted to himself, he had hated to see the torment on her face when he pulled his fingers free of her wet, clenching pussy. The desire to assuage her—fuck her tight channel with hard, unyielding strokes—was present, but weighed against the thought of branding Ameril to him, gave Jake strength to resist the temptation ... for now. For the time being, his recalcitrant lover needed to remain unfulfilled. "We've already passed a whole bunch of stores. Where are we going exactly?" Ameril's sudden question surprised Jake out of his reverie, and he glanced at her curious expression. "Just a little further up to Miller's. They have a better range of clothes," he answered easily. She seemed to accept this, and he smiled to himself. Although Miller's did have a wide selection of apparel for men and women, there was another reason why Jake wanted them to go there. The large dressing room with its floor length mirrors would be perfect for the first training he had in mind, and considering he owned the store, there'd be no problem convincing Jeremiah Miller it was time to take a break. Content with his plan and glad that his long buttoned shirt obscured the thick bulge in his pants, he grimaced as another wave of pulsing awareness pounded through the length of his cock. Christ! He ached for release—ached to be inside Ameril's sweet, hot cunt. He knew if he didn't get inside the heaven of her pussy soon, he'd go out of his mind. 70


When a large panel of thick glass painted with swirling, white letters came into view, Jake almost let loose a cry of triumph. Pulling Ameril to a halt when she would have continued on, he waved his arm in a sweeping gesture. "Here we are." She frowned, peering at the glass. "Miller's General Store?" "A play on words, believe me. You won't find anything general about this place." Ameril didn't look convinced, but conceded to his gentle tug with little protest. A bell just above the door tinkled with chimes of their arrival, and Jeremiah, spotting them, walked from behind the counter, a happy grin spread across his face. "What in the hell are you doing here?" "I was in the neighborhood and I thought I'd come by for a visit." Placing a proprietary hand on Ameril's shoulder, he smiled with indulgence. "Plus, the little lady here needs some clothes." Making quick introductions, Jake watched with mild annoyance as Jeremiah frankly appraised Ameril from the top of her golden blond hair to the bottom of her scuffed tennis shoes. "Pleased to meet you, Ameril. Unique name by the way, does it mean anything?" She shook her head. "Not that I'm aware of." "That's good. My brother's kids have to carry around a dictionary to explain their names." Ameril laughed. "I've always thought the nurse at the hospital may have spelled it wrong, and maybe it was supposed to be Emerald because..." Ameril stopped mid71


sentence, and Jake knew she felt embarrassed by the small amount of personal information she'd let slip. Turning the topic in another direction, Jake intruded into the uncomfortable silence. "Looks like you've gotten a lot of new stock." Jeremiah waved a hand around, a proud look stamped on his face. "Yeah, we've had a lot of success expanding our higher end merchandise." Jake nodded in approval, happy that he'd kept the manager on board. Jeremiah Miller was a shrewd businessman. Although this store, like many others, had been floundering before he and Steve came along, the injection of capital in the city, and in businesses like Miller's and Margie's, had boosted a lot more than just revenue. Hope, and the boundless zeal to succeed, had been restored. Jake wasn't usually a sentimental person, but a part of him was warmed by the fact that he'd been able to help. Ameril began to twitch, shuffling her feet from side to side. Jake smiled at her restlessness, and steered Jeremiah away from further talk of marketing strategies and product dilemmas. Business was the last thing on his mind—at least any business that didn't concern fucking Ameril's sweet, little pussy. "I'd better get this woman some new clothes, Jeremiah. You know how they can be," he said with a wink. When Ameril looked over her shoulder to flash him a hot, angry look, Jeremiah chortled. "Sure, Jake. I don't want to 72


get you into any trouble. Let me know if you need anything," he said, before walking back toward the counter. Jake grinned. Give me a few moments, pal, and then I'll need for you to leave. There was only one other customer in the store at the present, an older woman who was picking her way through a row of multi-colored summer dresses. She looked up, smiling briefly, before returning to her perusal. "I don't appreciate you and your buddy talking about me like I'm not here." Amused by Ameril's prickly nature, Jake shrugged and lifted a lock of her hair so he could twirl it around his index finger. "You're too serious." Ameril growled under her breath, slapping his hand away. "Correction. I'm realistic," she muttered, moving off to inspect several folded pairs of jeans on a small table to the left. "I don't like you or anyone else thinking I'm your little woman. And that's what the end of that conversation was all about." Jake refused to rise to her bait. "If you say so." "Why don't you go somewhere? I'm sure there are a hundred more important things you could be doing rather than bugging me." Her words infuriated him, and he narrowed his gaze. "Nothing is more important than you, and it's time I prove that." he muttered. Her pupils dilated, and Jake's lust heightened at the erotic fear in her eyes. 73


Staring down for a few more moments, making sure his words sank deep into her psyche, he released her to turn away.

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Chapter 6 A nervous trill of anxiety started Ameril's heart racing. She watched, aroused, fearful, and agitated at the same time as Jake stalked toward the counter to speak with the paunchy, prematurely balding Jeremiah Miller. After a few moments, Jeremiah nodded at Jake and then turned to walk through the store, heading for the only other person in it aside from herself. The elderly woman browsing around in the back greeted Jeremiah with a placid smile. Blinking, her mouth open wide, Ameril strained her ears to listen to their conversation. "Ma'am, I'm afraid I need to close down for a moment, so I can go grab a bite to eat. I'd be pleased to offer you a discount if you came back." Mortified, Ameril waited for the response. "Sure. What time will you be opening again?" Jeremiah glanced over his shoulder, first at Jake then to Ameril before looking back at the woman. "I think in a ... couple of hours." Whatever they said after that was lost because a low buzz began to ring in her ears. She felt hot, suffocated, and gazed in pure disbelief as the store emptied, leaving her alone with Jake. The bell above the door tinkled like a bell tolling for her soul being sold to the highest bidder. Maneuvered, like a rook on a chessboard, Ameril knew she'd been neatly trapped. She bowed her head and waited. 75


There wasn't anything more she could do. She was sure Jake had been planning this whole scenario since they left the diner. And, if she were honest, her desire to thwart him was part of the reason she stood alone with him now. Again, she'd been her own worst enemy. The soft sounds of falling footsteps cleared away the clamor in her head. Her heartbeat tripled its pace. Desire, rich, dark and seductively hot, encompassed her limbs, gluing her feet to the floor. With every step, Jake drew closer, until like a shadowed mist, he stood over her, looking down with a keen, shrewd stare. Helpless under his domineering stance, Ameril dropped her eyes, refusing to meet his stare. "Look at me." Ameril shook her head, mutely resisting. "Look at me," Jake commanded again, his voice soft. She shook her head again, attempting to hold on to what little bit of sanity she had left, knowing if she lifted her eyes she'd be lost to him ... again. Jake sighed. He placed one long finger under her chin, raising her head so she had no choice but to stare at him. "I've been patient with you, Ameril. I know you've needed time to sort through the mixed thoughts in your head, but this can't continue any longer." He grabbed hold of her hand, pulling her toward the two large dressing room doors. "I know you say you don't want this, but I know deep down, you do." Although his words should have blinded her with fury, they had the opposite effect. Her pussy flooded with moisture and 76


a tight knot unfurled in her stomach. Nerves on edge, her breath quickened as Jake pushed open the large, corral-type doors of the dressing room. Her heart kick started into a furious tattoo at the sight of a large, cushioned purple chair, three floor length mirrors, one directly in front of her, and another two flanked on either side. Jake slowly sat down in the chair, taking an inordinate amount of time to settle himself. "Take your clothes off," he commanded in a strict voice, his eyes dark and compelling. Hundreds of words raced through her head in rebuttal, but nothing emerged except a silent gasp, a desperate entreaty for him to—stop—don't stop—go away—never leave. Confused by the ambiguity of her desire, Ameril stayed motionless, her arms flush against her sides. The lump in her throat grew until her mouth was dry, forcing her to swallow. She felt light-headed and breathed a sporadic breath to push more oxygen into her brain. "Ameril. Take. Your. Clothes. Off." This time, his words were stark. She could hear them, over and over, echoing through her eardrums. Her mind and body were at war with each other—one begging her to run—the other begging her to stay. She literally felt torn between her wants and needs, the true reason why she'd run so fast from Jake ... crystal clear. The dominance of his nature did scare her, but it was her own submissive need to answer that made her feel as if she was walking with a ghost. 77


Caving in under paramount pressure, Ameril closed her eyes, realizing that for all her running, she'd ended up running right back to him because that's where she ultimately wanted to be. Unable to deny her need any longer, she lifted her hands toward the edges of her shirt. "No. Take your pants off first." Ameril thought of refusing him for a split second. The need to rebel was there, but no matter how hard she tried to resist the pull, a part of her desperately ached to submit to Jake. Pushing her sweats down without a word, she rose on her tippy-toes to step on the backs of her shoes to remove them. Jake stopped her, his hand lifting with an imperious gesture. "Did I tell you to take your shoes off?" Silence ensued, but Jake's gaze demanded a response. "No," she whispered, shaking her head. "Then leave them on," he ordered, his voice firm. Ameril nodded, and removed her sweats, leaving her shoes and socks on. "Now, take the rest off." Her bulky, large t-shirt came away with ease, as well as her bra, and she tossed the items to the floor, next to her pants. Swallowing against the sudden dryness in her mouth, her eyes automatically strayed toward the reflective glass behind him. "Look at me, Ameril. You're not allowed to look in the mirror yet."

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Rebuked, she returned her gaze to his. Waiting, apprehensive with arousal, as his eyes perused her from head to toe. He was silent for so long and his stare was so piercing, Ameril began to shake violently. The tremors started low in her belly, working outward. Unsure if he even wanted her anymore, a whimper, a helpless cry, escaped from her lips. The noise seemed to spur him to action, and he stood abruptly, kicking away the mound of clothes at her feet. She wanted to please him. Had she failed? Had she driven him too far? Afraid he might leave, she reached out and grabbed hold of his wrist, pulling him closer. Jake blinked, as if coming from a daze, seconds before his mouth swooped down toward her lips. His kiss was filled with uncontrolled passion. Ameril reveled in the way his tongue mated with hers. Curling her body around him like a cat, she rubbed her breasts against the satiny material of his shirt. Spasms of need made her moan aloud, her pussy quivering and oozing warm, syrupy fluid onto her inner thighs. This is what she wanted. Jake's lips on hers, his body pressed close, the hard bulge of his erection nestled against her stomach. Enthralled by the feel of him, it took a moment for her to realize that Jake was no longer kissing her back. His lips were pliant, but unresponsive. Slowly rearing back, she peered into his eyes, perplexed by the indulgent expression on his face. 79


He smiled back at her, trailing his hands down her back. "Now you get to see what I see, Ameril. Turn around and face the mirror." Gasping in extreme awareness, she immediately obeyed him, her eyes widening at the decadent 3-D perspective. Visions of watching Jake's hard cock slicing into her pussy flashed into her mind. Electricity sparked hot inside her body, and a current of desire arched down her spine. "Put your hands flat against the mirror, and step as close as you can," he ordered, utilizing the hard press of his body, and the flat of his palms to demonstrate, "like this." Ameril shivered at the coldness, her breath whistling through her teeth. Her nipples, already puckered, glanced against the mirror, and the sensation of being hot then suddenly cold made her pant with aroused shock. Unable to resist, she rubbed against the cool glass, luxuriating in the hard smoothness. Jake bucked his hips forward, pinning her in place. One lone fist clenched around a hunk of her hair, wrapping it around his wrist like a cord, pulling her head back until her neck arched. She stared up into his eyes. All traces of indulgence had been wiped from his face. "Don't do that again," he gritted. "You wanted to look at yourself, so I'm letting you look. But you don't get to please that beautiful little body, Ameril. Not unless I tell you to. Now ... look into the mirror and don't move again." Fear and desire wound around her nerves, sensitizing her mind. The amount of control Jake was able to exert over her 80


body in so short a time was astounding. It was hard to tell where he began and she ended. Shutting her lids, she waited until he released her hair, before looking back toward the mirror, her body rigid with strain. Jake must have sensed the last threshold of her resistance had been conquered because he leaned close against her, his lips trailing hot, wet kisses along the indented curve where her neck and shoulder met. "Good girl," he murmured, his hands praising her as well by sliding across her stomach and into the crease of her pussy to play with her clit. A blaze of lust stormed the sensitive tissues. The flood seeping from her orifice slicked Jake's fingers until they slid against her like warm, caressing silk. The fact she was helpless to stop the onslaught, her body frozen in place by the strength of his will, heightened the pleasure racking her body. Desperate for release, she shuddered as a tidal wave of pleasure hastened toward her. Nearly collapsing under the torment, she was thankful for Jake's strong arms wrapped around her. She would have fallen to the floor if it weren't for Jake holding her upright. "Such a good girl," he murmured, turning her to face him and kissing her gently. "And your pussy is so sweet." Jake licked one glistening finger. "So delicious. I'm going to fuck you now. Just the way you like it, slow then hard, then harder and harder until you cum all over my cock." Nodding, she raised her arms, eager to remove his clothes so she could feel his cock inside her. 81


Jake shook his head. "No. Stand there." Braced against the mirror, Ameril licked her lips in anticipation as Jake slowly began to unbutton his shirt. Weightless, like she was floating in an orbital plane of bliss where the two of them were the only two things that mattered. Her body revved up at the sight of his naked chest and stomach, at the light smattering of hair thickening into an enticing line leading down into the waistband of his trousers. His belt came off next, causing his pants to drop low on his waist, and her breath hitched in her throat. "Take your shoes and socks off." His voice commanded seductive surrender. "Now come here. I want you to help me take mine off." Walking toward him, her eyes never leaving his face, she knelt at his feet slipping his shoes free. "Good girl," he murmured, staring down. "Now, my pants, unzip them." Her hands were hesitant—shaky—as she pulled down the zipper. This would be the first time Ameril would see Jake completely unclothed, and her body quivered in anticipation. The moment his cock sprang free—jutting, long and thick— vivid images of Jake feeding from her pussy that long ago night at the club flashed behind her eyes, making her hungry to taste him. Unaware, she began to sway closer toward him, her mouth wide and ready to suckle his cock. Jake slid his fingers in her hair, gently pushing her away from him. 82


"No, I want to fuck that sweet little pussy. If you promise to be a good girl, I'll fuck that sweet mouth of yours later." Ameril whimpered at the thought of his thick, large cock sliding in and out of her mouth. "Do you promise?" She'd have promised the moon and stars. "Yes," she whispered. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice laced with lust. "Now stand up so I can give you what you truly want, baby." She didn't think she could move, much less stand, her body felt as if it was in a state of turmoil. Jake must have sensed her desperation because he grabbed hold of her shoulders, sliding her upward along his body. Skin met skin, the contact electric. Heat poured through her veins, sparking a firestorm of desire. Jake sighed harshly, and placed both his hands on her buttocks, lifting her from the floor. Ameril wrapped her arms around his shoulders as her thighs gripped tight around his waist, poising her aching pussy above his cock. "Tell me who owns this pussy," Jake muttered, his eyes twin flames of need. "You, Jake. Only you," she gasped. Burying his face in the crook of her neck, he growled, "Tell me again who owns this pussy." Suddenly, the breadth of his penis filled her to completion, the strength of his thrust bouncing her up. She screamed, "You!" 83


Jake didn't say another word as his cock rammed, over and over, into her quivering pussy. He took no prisoners with his puissant thrusts, his powerful legs supporting her as he drove his shaft upward with sure, quick strokes. Trapped in a world of pleasure, she rushed headlong into the furious tidal wave of lust and desire, gripping Jake's hair to pull his face upward for a kiss of passion. The heat from his searing lips added to the flames licking at the insides of her cunt as his cock repeatedly slammed inside her. Unable to withstand the building pressure, Ameril burst into a thousand pieces. The haze of climactic bliss left her breathless as she cried a scream of pure joy into his mouth, tears streaming down her face. Jake clutched her tighter, one large hand caressing her buttocks, as he joined her in the oblivion. Still overcome by the torrent, Ameril blindly recognized her body being settled into the nearby chair. Jake, nestling his head against her stomach, lowered himself to his knees, his body shaking as well. Several long pant-filled moments passed before Ameril felt her heartbeat slowing and her breath returning to normal. She opened her eyes, though she couldn't remember when she closed them, and stared at Jake, his rich chocolate stare level with hers. Tenderly, he wiped the tears from her face with the tips of his thumbs. "My sweet love, so passionate and feisty. I'm sorry I made you cry," he murmured. Ameril nodded, accepting. 84


Jake leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. "But I didn't have a choice." She nodded again. "I need for you to trust me, Ameril. Trust me completely. Not just with your body, but with your mind." His voice so soft with need, she could almost hear the inner torment of his body. Caressing her knees before standing, Jake looked down from his superior height. "Can you trust me, Ameril?" Bereft of an answer, not knowing what to say, she turned away, afraid he'd see past the shadows that had to be echoing in her eyes. She did want to trust him, but she was afraid of giving away so much control of her life and happiness. Experience had taught her once that power corrupted ... and absolute power corrupted completely. "I don't know. I-I just feel so lost, like-like I don't know up from down. What you ask for is scary." A dark, haunting silence echoed. Even though she knew there was a world outside of the store, it felt like nothing except the two of them existed. "Then will you at least give us a chance? Give me a chance to prove I would never hurt you?" he asked, sliding his fingers into her hair. "That's all I ask for, Ameril. Just a chance." Ameril trembled as his questions ran through her mind. Her gaze traveled upward and collided with the spent evidence of his desire. A wave of emotion she wasn't really ready to examine swept through her, but she dismissed it, struggling to find her voice. 85


"Okay. I'll give you a chance, Jake."

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Chapter 7 As she stood in the lone bathroom at Miller's, wiping Jake's sticky seed away from her thighs, Ameril still wasn't sure what made her say those words. Clenching the wet towels grasped in her hand, she flicked them into the nearby garbage with a snort of disgust, wishing her fears could have been tossed away as well. She wasn't sure what was worse—the easy control Jake had commanded of her mind and body, or her own helpless need to submit to him. Why do I desire a man I know wants to control me? Everything about Jake, from his unswerving determination, to his powerful presence, smacked of the type of dominant sexual nature Ameril had rejected years ago. The type of nature she'd sworn off after her experience with David Windham. She'd never understand the needs in her body. The needs that made her want to submit and be controlled, but she'd made a vow to never let those feelings hold sway again. Yet, like bad déjà vu, here she stood, trapped in the same boat, prisoner to the desires of another. How she hadn't learned her lesson after the mental and physical beating David had bestowed was a question better left for when she obviously had more sense in her noggin. Shaking her head, Ameril washed and dried her hands before pulling her sweats back up. She didn't really feel like facing Jake, but she'd already been inside the bathroom for 87


over ten minutes. No doubt he would come looking for her if she didn't eventually show her face. Plus, she needed to get some clothes, so she could take a real shower. Birdbaths were very overrated, and she felt just a tad bit icky. Frowning at her reflection, she smoothed her fingers through her hair, attempting to tame the unruly mess. A real comb, a brush and a can of hairspray would have been best, but wishful thinking wouldn't make her hair look any better. With one last frown at the mirror, she opened the door. The first thing she glimpsed when she walked out was Jake, his hip resting against a display table, dressed and ready, his hair remarkably tidy. An embarrassed blush crawled up her skin, and she glanced away from his composed features. "Take your time looking around. We aren't in any rush," he said. "I thought you would be tired," she mumbled. Jake shook his head. "I can last for a few more minutes." Ignoring the double entendre in his words, she nervously picked through a colorful rack of shirts. "I'll just get a few things. I-I mean we're only staying here for the weekend, right?" "Although I'd love to keep you here forever, Ameril, I know you have school." "What about you? Don't you have to get back to work ... or something?" He stared at her, and the gleam in his eyes made her hand still. "I'm on vacation right now." 88


Ameril nodded, deciding there wasn't a need for further conversation. The original plan of arming herself with jeans and bulky sweaters seemed foolish now. The season was already edging into summer. Although it had been cool this morning, the glaring sun promised a warm day. Quickly deciding on a pair of black sweat pants, two colorful buttoned tops, some Capri pants and lightweight PJs, she opted for just one pair of jeans and one pink knitted sweater. Her tennis shoes would do well enough for footwear, so she bypassed the few ladies shoes showcased against the wall. Turning toward the register, thinking she had enough for another couple of days, a thought, like a shout in the dark, stopped her cold. Underwear! There was no way she was leaving this damn store without some of those. Moving toward the back, she grabbed a few frilly-lace undergarments, and frowned at their sexy design. Well, she figured, at least she'd have some on. Picking up a couple of brassieres for good measure, she finally joined Jake at the counter. Ameril gestured to the clothes in her arm. "I can't just take these. Maybe I should leave some money on the counter," she said, remembering the wallet in the pocket of her sweats. Jake was quicker though, quickly retrieving three hundred dollar bills from his own wallet. Ameril lifted a brow. "You know, credit cards are safer." He smiled, flashing a toothy grin. "Cash only, remember." 89


Was he going to repeat everything she'd said to him that night at the Classy Lady? Setting the clothes on the counter, she pulled the tags, opting to ignore his little comment. "That's way too much," she said, adding the figures, and motioning toward his money. "Don't worry about it." Must be nice to never have to worry about being broke. They left the store a few minutes later, after she'd bagged her clothes and written a 'thank you' note to Jeremiah. The middle-aged man probably thought she was some sort of slut, but she was grateful to have more to wear than just a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt. Plus, she was truly grateful to finally have some panties. The morning coolness had evaporated under a blazing sun, and a quick glimpse at her watch revealed that it was nearly noon. The streets were now crowded with patrons, many carrying shopping bags or munching on hot dogs. She glanced over her shoulder at Jake, who was checking that the door had locked behind them, when a full-bodied yawn racked her frame. "You tired?" he asked, smoothing his hand down her hair. "Yeah, though I don't know why. I slept the whole ride here." "Probably just wrung out. It has been an eventful morning." Ameril blushed. "You can say that again. What about you? I'm sure you're ready to fall on your face." Jake laughed. "I could do with a bit of sleep." 90


That had to be the understatement of the year. The man had to have been up for at least twenty-four straight hours. A slight twinge of guilt, and another blaze of the undefined emotion that had swept her earlier, ricocheted beneath her breasts making her heart spasm erratically. Dismissing the thoughts because she was too tired to examine them fully, Ameril slipped her hand into his, and smiled up at his surprised expression. "In case you do fall and I have to drag you to the car," she teased. Immediately all traces of merriment banished from Jake's eyes and he pulled her close for a short, passionate kiss. Blinking up at him, Ameril pulled away with reluctance. The silent ride back to the cabin took an extra five minutes because there were more cars on the road. Eventually, the traffic lulled as they turned the last corner leading into the private drive. Ameril undid her seat belt and retrieved her purse from under the seat, slinging it over her shoulder before exiting the car. She opened the back door and swiftly grabbed the shopping bag sitting on the back seat. Jake stepped out of his side of the vehicle, walking around the front of the car to stand beside her, his eyes flicking downward. "I'll carry that." Handing him the glossy white bag, proudly proclaiming "Miller's" in cursive black lettering, she smiled in thanks before the corners of her lips dropped at the high-pitched beeping coming from her purse. "Damn," she muttered, pulling free her wailing cell phone. "I must have forgotten to charge it." 91


What Ameril didn't say was she had a charger in her car, and had actually planned on giving the phone some juice on her way home. "Do you need to call someone?" Jake asked, frowning. "Well ... yes. I need to call the club. I left there in a hurry, and I don't want anyone to worry. Plus, I want to call Alex and let her know where I am." She looked askance at him and glowered at the submissiveness in her voice. If she needed to use a phone, she should be able to use it without having to ask for permission. "There's one inside in the study," he answered, his easy tone stealing away her anger. "After we get you settled, I'll take you to it, so you can make your calls." "Thanks," she muttered, since it was the only thing she could say. She followed him up the steps leading to the exterior platform of the house, and waited for Jake to unlock the front door. He stepped aside, allowing her to enter first, and she glanced at him momentarily. She wouldn't have picked him for the gallant sort, but apparently there was more to him than she'd thought. "Go ahead and go on up. My room is the second door on the right. Take a shower and get comfortable." Jake peered at her, before handing her the bag from Miller's. "I have a few calls to make myself." "O-okay," she mumbled, peering over her shoulder as she walked away. 92


**** Jake waited while Ameril climbed the stairs to the second floor landing, watching until she finally disappeared around the corner before sighing and placing his head in his hands. God! He was so damn tired. Surprised the weariness in his limbs didn't lay him flat, he walked shakily toward the study. He did have to make some phone calls, but if truth be known, he needed a moment alone. Although the first hurdle had been accomplished, the race was still on and he wasn't fooled into believing the battle for her heart was over. Of course, there wasn't a shadow of doubt in his mind the victory would be his, but he wondered briefly what other trials his intractable lover had in store. No doubt, she was up in their room thinking of more ways to thwart him. She was so intransigent about having a relationship with him, about believing there could be something tangible— viable—between them. Jake knew most of that stemmed from the confusion and fear within her, but for both their sakes he had to convince Ameril to trust him. Flouncing down into the large, high backed executive chair in the study, he sighed, ready for the challenge even as his body begged for rest. The lone phone in the house was concealed beneath a hidden compartment inside the large, cherry and oak desk. "Out of sight, out of mind," his mother said when she had the furniture delivered. 93


Lifting and sliding back the lid, he grabbed the handset and first called Constance, his secretary, at home. "Okay, Mister! Where in the world are you? Steve says you're at the Summit, but you're mother has been calling non-stop for the past week. You missed the fundraiser, and you didn't even show up to the hearing in Washington. What in the blue blazes is going on?" "I am here at the Summit, Connie. I have some personal issues that need to be taken care of." "Personal issues?! Personal issues greater than your own mother? Jake smiled to himself. He knew Constance had a soft spot for his mom, but still. "I will call my mother, don't worry. I'm calling you though to find out if there's anything important going on I should know about." Constance cleared her throat, and he could almost see the blush highlighting her skin at his rebuking tone. "Well, you have about a million messages of course, but the only important thing I can think of off the top of my head is Webster Crouse. He called wanting to know if you reached a decision about Pryco." Crouse. Of course. He wanted to know if his offer had been accepted. "If he calls again tell him I haven't decided, but if he keeps calling the answer is going to be a resounding no." Constance chuckled. "I'll tell him." "Okay, so is there anything else?" "No, but please call your mother, Jake. She's worried and I don't know what else to tell her." 94


Constance used the voice she reserved for him and her grown children, the motherly tone that pleaded, in a commanding way, for him to do what she asked. "I'll call her," he assured. Placated, Constance relayed a few other things, most of it having to do with the uproar Grace, Steve's secretary, was feeling due to his brother's impending wedding. "He told her to cancel all of his meetings for the next month because he wanted to spend some uninterrupted time with Alex," Constance huffed. "The poor woman had to call the Prime Minister of Egypt for God sakes!" Jake laughed. "Did she speak with him?" "No, but she had to deal with one of his assistants, and from what she told me, that man hasn't even learned the word no." Connie's chortle sounded low, vibrating through the phone lines. "You better never do anything like that, mister. If I ever have to call anyone's Prime Minister, I will quit." "I'll remember that," Jake said, shaking his head, "Anything else?" "No, I can't think of anything, but if I do I'll call you, okay?" After Connie managed to guarantee a few more promises to call his mother, Jake disconnected the call. Still holding the receiver to his ear, he dialed a new number. Steve picked up after two rings. "You know, bro, you really should call mom. She's burning up the phones lines because I, unfortunately, have my cell on." Jake sighed. "I'm going to call her right after I hang up with you." 95


"While you're at it, call Marie too. She has no life and loves to call me in the middle of the night when I'm busy." Jake could just imagine. The last time he'd called during the nighttime hours there had obviously been something more important on Steve's mind. "No worries. I'll call her. So, the hearing went off without a hitch?" "Yes and no. Senator Harcourt was his usual, surly self." "He must have pulled some serious strings to get on the Finance committee. I've always wondered what ace he has up his sleeve." "You and me both, but I'm thinking even with him dissenting, things will still go in our favor." "They didn't vote then?" "No, they wanted to review the matter further. And let me tell you now, if they do decide on another hearing, I won't be in Washington for it." He'd never heard his brother talk this way. Business was— had been—Steve's life. "I'm surprised to hear you say that," Jake said truthfully. A light chuckle sounded through the phone waves. "Well, I got other things on my mind. And since you obviously can take some time off, I think I'm entitled to do the same." Jake ignored the taunt. "So when are you coming back home?" "Probably tonight, Alex keeps mentioning school and exams." Jake could hear a feminine voice in the background, murmuring what sounded like sweet nothings. Laughing, he shook his head. "So, what are you two up to?" 96


"I'm taking Alex on a tour of the capitol." Jake could hear the smile in his brother's voice. "She's never been to Washington before, and she wants to go everywhere. Right now, she's taking pictures." "Did you take her to the Smithsonian?" "No, we just left the Aerospace museum, but we're headed there now. What's up with you though?" Jake stared around the room, listening absently to the ambient sounds echoing from the receiver before taking a shallow breath, and rushing ahead with the news he had to tell his brother. "I'm at the Summit." "Yeah, I got caller ID." "I'm here with Ameril," he said. A decided pause sounded, and Jake heard his brother swear softly. "What are you doing at the Summit with my fiancée's best friend, Jacob?" "It's complicated ... and I can't really get into it now." "You better try. The last thing I need is this shit muddying up my life." Jake's jaw set, and his fist clenched tight. "What Ameril and I are doing is none of your damn business!" "When you start screwing around in my territory it becomes my business," Steve muttered. "Your territory? Alex is yours and Ameril is mine. That's the territory, Steven, and you best never fucking forget it either." Hanging up on his brother, Jake immediately sighed in regret. 97


That call hadn't gone the way he'd planned. He figured Steve would be mad, but saying Ameril was a part of his territory had pushed him to the limit. Ameril belonged to him, and no one else. He thought briefly about calling his mother before deciding against it. Jake knew she worried, and he hated to cause her any sort of pain, but he also knew both Constance and Steve would assure his mother he was fine. He also declined phoning Marie. Undoubtedly, both his mother and sister would severely blister his eardrums when he did phone, but for the time being, he was too tired to face any more recriminations. He had enough to deal with in regards to Ameril and the tumultuous feelings she aroused. Knowing the battle with Ameril was still far from over, he rose to make his way toward the bedroom. He hoped she'd already taken her shower. Right now, all he wanted to do was wash his body and crawl into bed next to her. Though, knowing Ameril, he'd probably have to coax and tease until she capitulated. Bone weary, Jake mounted the stairs. After the depressing conversation with Steve, he was even more determined to bring Ameril to his hand. His entire family might descend on him tomorrow, and more so than ever, he felt time was paramount. The sounds of the shower echoed around his room, and clouds of floating steam drifted about. Smiling in gratitude, happy to have a bit of luck, Jake stripped quickly before walking into the connecting bathroom. He knocked on the thin Plexiglas door before opening it wide. 98


Ameril stood directly beneath the nozzle, her head bowed. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, entranced by the way the water sluiced down her naked body. "I'm just about to get out," she murmured, blinking, her eyes bright blue. "No need, it's big enough for the two of us," he said, joining her to step under the spraying nozzle. "I-I really should be going." "Stay with me. You promised to give me a chance," he murmured, pleading. "Don't go." Although she looked unsure, Ameril nodded, and Jake felt a sense of triumph burgeoning in his soul. Since the moment he'd met her, the need—the desire—to be close with her had burrowed under his skin. Pulling her into his arms, he ignored the joy and fear inside his heart, and reveled in the feel of Ameril. He couldn't lose her. He just couldn't.

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Chapter 8 The first thing Ameril noticed when she opened her eyes was the darkened gray sky outside the window. Glancing at the nightstand clock, she grimaced at the time. Damn! I haven't done anything since I got here except eat, sleep and fu— Hastily dismissing the errant, but appropriate, thought, her eyes surveyed the room for signs of Jake. Earlier, he had muttered something about getting up, but she'd been too caught in the thrall of sleep to do more than grumble and pull a pillow over her head. He'd laughed, smacked her behind, and told her to "shake a leg". Sighing because she really didn't feel like moving, Ameril crawled out of bed to walk toward the bathroom. She emerged a few moments later and looked around for her clothes. She remembered folding them and putting them on top of the dresser before she'd taken her shower earlier. But now they were nowhere to be seen. Perplexed, she searched the room. She was near to thinking Jake had thrown them away, when she wrenched opened a drawer and at last saw all her clothes, folded just as she remembered, inside. An odd feeling began to grow in her chest. There was something very intimate about having her possessions mingled amongst his. Ameril knew she shouldn't read too much into it. Granted, he'd probably put her clothes in the 100


drawer to get them out of the way, but she couldn't help thinking there was something more. Picking up one of the shirts she'd purchased earlier, she sat down on the bed and stared out the lattice framed window. In the heat of passion she had promised to give Jake a chance, but in the clear light of approaching dusk, her choice seemed ridiculously foolhardy. Doubtless, most women would give their eyeteeth for a man like Jake Macmillan. Handsome, rich and debonair, he was a walking dream. Yet, most women didn't have a nightmare like David Windham in their past to compare. Dropping the shirt, Ameril stood to walk toward the window, watching absently as the wind swayed through the trees, her mind remembering a past she'd rather forget. At the tender age of eighteen, she'd been released from the care of the state with a few bucks and a "good luck with the rest of your life". Eager to leave Oklahoma, she'd boarded a bus headed for Los Angeles. She'd wanted some excitement and a chance to make a good life for herself. California had seemed the perfect place. Amazed by all the bustling activity, it didn't take long before she found a job waiting tables in a restaurant, and for the next year, she'd pinched pennies while staying in seedy motels until she finally had enough for a deposit on a small studio apartment. Later that same month, she enrolled at a local Junior College. Ameril wouldn't have gone so far as to say her life had been perfect, but she was self-sufficient and independent. Two things she craved after the hectic uncertainty of fostered 101


living. However, the day David Windham sauntered into her life, all of that changed. A handsome, well-to-do marketing consultant, he'd dined often at the small cafe where she worked. When he first asked her out on a date, Ameril remembered being flattered. Although other men had approached her in the past, David was unfailingly polite. He'd made her feel special—wanted. As usual in relationships that go sour, at first things were fine, more than fine actually. David introduced her to a whole other world of art, culture and fine living. He'd been like a gentle, determined tutor. After six months of dating, he'd asked her to move into his spacious Century City apartment. Ameril had been hesitant at first, but slowly David wore her down, convincing her that living with him would help defer cost and give her more money for school. He was so loving and attentive, she pushed away her uncertainties and packed her meager belongings. David had always been dominant in bed. She'd never asked him about it before because she liked his rough edges. Though, when he began to push her boundaries more and more, she finally worked up enough nerve to ask him if he enjoyed being dominant. To this day, she could still recall the look on his face as he stared at her, weighing her question. The very next night he'd taken her to a club located in the heart of downtown. On the surface, Boudoirs, had been an upscale dance hall complete with flashing lights and crowded bodies, but as she toured the lower, private echelons. Ameril realized much, 102


much more was contained within the dark, forbidding underground. She would have liked to say that she'd been disgusted by the purveyance—the sights, smells and sounds—but her body had tingled with arousal. Even to this day, she couldn't deny it. David had sensed her intrigue and spirited her home. Within moments of stepping through the door, he introduced her into the true world of dominance and submission. Heady, erotic and totally encompassing, Ameril had fallen into the life with ease. She never understood what made her crave the things she did, but resisting had felt like denying her soul to breathe. Nevertheless, within a few months, the gentle lover she knew began to change like the wind. David's dominance, once fascinating, began to strangle her. She couldn't leave without telling him where she was going. The few friends she'd made were suddenly unworthy. Her interests dismissed, she was regulated to his companions, his wants and his desires. Tolerant of his demeanor as part and parcel of the life they'd lived, she'd taken it in stride. It wasn't until she adamantly refused to reject her acceptance to UCLA that his attitude flipped for the absolute worse. The first time he'd slapped her, she'd forgiven him. The second time, she'd cried, hoping he would apologize. The next time it occurred, David didn't even look sorry. He'd raped her, beaten her and taken her car keys. The worst part was even after the traumatic event, she hoped there was some way to bring back the loving man 103


she'd once known. Ameril figured if she could learn to please him better things would go back to being normal. They never did, and the gentle sexual dominance he'd previously shown turned to cruelty. Sighing, Ameril turned away from the window, and walked back toward the bed, slowly removing her cotton pajamas. She didn't think Jake was totally like David, but there were enough similarities to put her on edge. How could she protect herself from a man like him? When she left Windham, she'd left penniless, without a friend to call upon, but she'd been able to get away. After a year, she had even re-applied to UCLA. Yet, and Ameril recognized this intuitively, she would never be able to get away from Jake. His money and power made him a force to be reckoned with. He was ten times as daunting as David had ever been, and if he wanted her, she'd never loosen his hold. Slipping on her shirt, and grabbing the Capri pants from the drawer, she quickly dressed, feeling foolish for rehashing so many bad memories. For nearly ten years, she'd learned to put her experience with David out of her mind. She'd dated other guys, graduated with a bachelor's degree and was nearly finished with law school. She had made a life beyond what David attempted to ruin—the life she had always dreamed about. She'd be a fool to put herself in a position where she might lose it all again, but her hunger for Jake was growing despite her convictions to the contrary. 104


Desperately needing to talk to someone about her fears, Ameril wished she'd been able to get hold of Alex earlier, but when she called her cell phone she'd been put through to voice mail. Frustrated, she'd left a message briefly explaining that she was with Jake and then phoned the club to make her apologies to Rachel. Melissa had answered, surprising her because the buxom brunette was supposed to be on vacation. Wary about explaining the situation, she'd given her some half-baked excuse, and told her she was sick. Lost inside a tumult of emotions, she took a deep breath, glanced once in the mirror, and made her way down the stairs. As much as she would have liked to stay inside the room, hiding away, Ameril knew she'd have to face the music eventually. Most of the lower interior was ablaze and a tinkling, childish laughter echoed. Continuing toward the sounds, she pushed open the swinging kitchen door, slightly surprised by the homely tableau. "Well, looks like someone finally decided to join us." Embarrassed, Ameril smiled at Margie as she took a small step over the threshold. "Sorry, I-I overslept." "No biggie, you're just in time for dinner." Margie walked toward the large, round oak kitchen table, pointing a large cooking spoon at the small little girl seated to the left of Jake. "This little munchkin here is my granddaughter." She moved closer to tousle the child's soft auburn hair with her free hand, commanding in a firm voice, "Say hello Jenna." 105


"Hello," Jenna squeaked in return, her attention clearly focused on the game of cards she was playing with Jake. Ameril mumbled a reply between 'hey' and 'hello', and stood awkwardly in the doorway, searching for a way to ease her rising tension. Swinging a curious look at the relaxed, composed Jake, she questioned with her eyes where she was supposed to fit into all this. Adding to her discomfort, Jake grinned and patted the chair next to him. "Jenna's a serious 'Go Fish' player. She's already beaten me once, but I think this time," he gestured toward a small stack in front of him, winking, "I've got her on the ropes." Jenna shuffled her cards and squinted at Jake with a determined look. "Though, I may need you to look over her shoulder a few times," he murmured, playfully staring the child down. Jenna set back in her chair, her expression affronted. "No! Look at his cards. He already has three books! If he gets another, he'll win." "I don't think I can be of any help," Ameril muttered, shifting her gaze back and forth as she took a seat. "I've never played this game before." Dismissing her lack of knowledge with a wave, Jenna peered across the table. "Just tell me all the cards he has in his hand." Margie stopped swirling the pot on the stove, glancing over her shoulder. "Jenna!" "But Granny, he asked her to cheat first." "Jake!" 106


Ameril couldn't help it, she burst out laughing. "Yeah, Jake," she said, mimicking Margie's matronly voice. The game went quickly after that, with Ameril holding up fingers and making signs to Jenna behind Jake's back. He peered at her a couple of times, but accepted defeat when Jenna triumphantly showcased her final book. "That's two times in a row. Now you have to admit that I am the greatest 'Go Fish' player ever!" "Yeah, you're the greatest player ever," Jake mumbled, tugging on the ends of Ameril's hair. "Of course, you did have help." Margie tapped her spoon against the pot. "Okay, well now that's settled, I think it's time for us to eat." Ameril felt her stomach growl in response. She hadn't been hungry when she came down earlier, but she smiled gratefully at the steaming helping of food in front of her. "This looks really delicious." "Thank you, dear. Actually, it's a new salmon dish I'm trying out for the diner, seared salmon with mango salsa, red potatoes and veggies. Take a bite and tell me what you think." Jenna giggled, digging in as well. "We're all Granny's guinea pigs," she pronounced. "That's Guinea pig, and don't talk with your mouth full," Margie admonished, taking a vacant seat. "So, what do you do, Ameril?" Nearly choking on her food, she gasped, hastily swallowing a mouthful. "I ... uh ... I'm a dancer," she mumbled. 107


"Oh! Really? What kind of dancing? Classical? Ballet? You've definitely got the calves of a dancer, but I'd guess you were a little tall for ballet." Ameril looked at Jake. Help, she screamed at him, only her lips formed a silent 'O'. She wasn't embarrassed about her job, but she didn't want to get into a discussion about stripping in front of a child. People always seemed to have endless questions whenever she brought the subject up. "I'm not trained," she finally murmured, staring back down at her plate, hoping Margie would get the hint and move on to another topic. She didn't have to worry though because Jenna suddenly barged into the conversation with her own tale. "I danced the lead in my school's Christmas play last year. My best friend, Rowan, wanted it but our teacher said I had better timing." Fascinated by the young child's enthusiasm, and extremely grateful for the change in discussion, Ameril encouraged Jenna to continue by asking a lot of questions. Enthusiastic to have a ready audience, the young girl regaled them about the performance. She even wrung promises from Ameril and Jake to attend the next one later that year. "You can bring your parents to!" she exclaimed. Startled, Ameril jerked her head up. Again she looked at Jake, hoping he'd intercede with some thoughtful, witty response, but he only smiled, lifting his brows as though he too was waiting for a response. "I'm afraid that's impossible," she murmured, looking out toward the windows of the kitchen before focusing on the 108


child once more. "I don't know who my parents are, so they really couldn't come." Undeterred, Jenna continued, "Are you adopted?" "No, not adopted." "Well ... how did you grow up then if you weren't adopted?" Out of the mouths of babes. "There are many ways to grow up, Jenna. Some people have parents and some people don't. I'm one of the people who don't." Strange, she had never explained her life in such a way, but saying it didn't make her feel any less a person. Truth be known, she actually felt a sense of relief. The uncompromising, wonder-like acceptance in Jenna's gaze brought to light a point of view she'd been loathe to think about. Her experiences had molded her, and at times she was envious of folks like Alex, who had parents, but Ameril knew that without the rough upbringing, she'd be less than she was now. Without the facets that had hewn her into shape, she'd be a different person. And truth be known, she enjoyed the being she was now. "Okay, so no parents. But, you've promised to come and I'll be looking for you." Ameril smiled happily. "I'll be there Jenna. You can bet your bottom dollar on that." "Bet the bottom dollar. Granny says that all the time, but I don't understand what it means. How can you bet your bottom dollar?" 109


"It means you can bet your last penny on it, Jenna," Jake said, reaching across the table to flick her chin. "Well ... I have a whole jar of pennies..." And again, as if something of momentous importance hadn't just occurred, Jenna moved on to the heaps of change she'd saved in the jars her parents had given her. The evening moved along swiftly after that, with both Jake and Margie volunteering stories of their youth. Relaxing into the discussion, Ameril shared what tales she could about her invariant childhood, laughing about some of the craziness she'd endured. All in all, it was one of the best nights of her life. When Margie rose and began to gather the empty dishes Ameril nearly begged for her to stay. "You don't really have to go do you?" "Yes, I've got to get this munchkin home. It's already way past her bedtime." "No it's not. Mom let's me stay up." "But tonight isn't one of those nights, dear." Smiling with a knowing grin, Margie began ladling leftovers into empty Tupperware. "Besides, Jake and Ameril need to get some sleep. They got here really early in the morning. And, if we want to see them tomorrow at the Melting Festival than we've got to let them rest." "The what?" Ameril asked. "The Melting Festival," Marge clarified. "It's the city's summer festival here in Mammoth." "They've got lots of food and dew-drop chocolate ice cream," Jenna chimed in. "It's really, really fun, and they 110


have horses that take you on a trail. Oh ... please say you'll come. I want you to meet Rowan." Staring into the child's expectant face, Ameril could do no more than nod her head, even as she glimpsed the smiling, knowing looks between Jake and Margie. She'd been maneuvered, once again, but she wasn't upset. Jenna's boundless enthusiasm was contagious, and Ameril found herself looking forward to the event. "I'll be there," she assured. "Great," Margie piped, "make sure you come to my booth so you can taste some of my famed cherry cobbler." Laughing, Ameril nodded again. "Make sure you save me a piece. I know the line will be around the block if your famous potato pie is any indication." Beaming smiles, along with promises to meet at specific locations, were the last things Ameril was left with as she watched Margie and her granddaughter bundle into their small SUV with a fond sense of regret. "I'm glad you liked them," Jake whispered in her ear, coming close to wrap his arms about her. "They're really nice. What's not to like?" "I don't know. You can be difficult at times. It's hard to gauge what will make you happy." Ameril sighed. "Is that what you're worried about? What will make me happy?" "You have a lot to learn if you don't know that I am supremely worried about what makes you happy, Ameril. Most times, that's the only thing I think about." 111


Turning in his arms, she peered up at him. "Yet, you seem so sure you can make me happy." "We wouldn't be here if I thought otherwise." Tired of fighting the battle within herself, she laid her head against his chest. "I'm not in the mood to be dominated tonight, Jake. Can you just love me without any commands or punishments?" Jake didn't answer verbally. He led her upstairs to his bedroom and slowly undressed her. There on the large king size bed, he showed her, over and over, how much he could love her.

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Chapter 9 The Melting Festival turned out to be one huge gathering of locals and tourists. Ameril figured the name probably had more to do with the large icicle shaped mascot than anything else actually melting, since she learned it was warm and sunny in Mammoth Lakes for the better part of the year. There was a ferris wheel and a few other low tempo rides for children, but the true highlight was the long line of booths in what was dubbed 'Sticky Sweet Alley'. Funnel cake, cotton candy of every flavor, and the specialty of the festival, dewdrop ice cream, abounded. There were also plenty of vendors, most of them consisting of local artisans, who plied everything from homespun glassware and rock paintings to elaborately designed gossamer wings for children and adults. Jake purchased a huge pair of white angel wings, and murmured in her ear, "I can't wait to see you wearing these as you ride me." All day he'd been whispering things like that, or crowding close so he could kiss or touch her. She felt ready to scream because she knew he was deliberately putting her on edge. Flushed, she turned away, looking for an escape as he made arrangements to have the item delivered, and spotted Jenna and her young friend, Rowan. Waving, she called them over, smiling at the glittery paint covering their faces. "Well, don't you two look gorgeous." "Chloe did it," Jenna said, flicking her hand in excitement at the two huge balloons on her cheeks. 113


Rowan not to be outdone showcased her whiskers and cat nose. "I wanted to be a cat." Ameril laughed. "I see. Actually, the more I look at you. I'm thinking with your red hair and green eyes, you should change your name to Calico." Rowan grinned, and pointed up at her face. "You should get one too, Ameril. I mean not a cat or balloons, but maybe something like a heart or flowers because you're so pretty." "No way am I prettier than you two munchkins," she enthused, tweaking each of their ears. Both girls laughed happily, before grabbing her hands and pulling her toward a large booth with a queue of children in front. She didn't need to look over her shoulder to know that Jake had followed. She could feel the heat of his stare traveling over her like a caress. After waiting in line for nearly twenty minutes, with Rowan and Jenna chatting away about the upcoming talent show, Ameril sat for her face painting. Chloe was a young woman with a multitude of tattoos and streaked purple and black hair. From all appearances, she'd look to be society's biggest rebel, but the huge smile and open, unguarded look in her eyes reminded Ameril of someone who wanted to experience life to the max regardless of what people thought. Peering down with the vivid regard of an artist sizing up a canvas, she chuckled. "I don't really see you as the hearts or flowers type. I'm thinking ... exotic, mysterious." Chloe looked over to Jake, who stood at the edge of the booth smiling benignly. "Am I right?" 114


Jake shrugged. "She's always been a mystery to me." Turning Ameril's chair to the left, away from the glaring sun, she swirled a clean brush in a jar of thick, bright, glittery blue paint. "I've got the perfect design," Chloe said, grinning. The grazing touch of Chloe's paintbrush against her skin was cold and Ameril jumped a few times from the tickling bristles. Jenna and Rowan were allowed to stand inside the booth, and she judged from their wide-eyed stare that whatever Chloe was meticulously weaving across her face was exciting and fascinating to the girls. After five solid minutes, Chloe finally leaned back, waving an arm like an effusive Italian. "This is soooo perfect. I gotta take a picture." Before Ameril could protest, she'd snapped a Polaroid. "You look so hot. I'm not even going to charge you for this. It'll be worth the price when everyone gets to see it. It's like friggin' free advertisement." Feeling like a dressed up Christmas ham, Ameril swung her gaze in a wide arc. "Would you mind giving me a mirror?" "Oh, yeah, here you go," Chloe volunteered, handing her a large oval shaped mirror. Sure she was going to have to run to the nearest bathroom, Ameril was entranced by the beautiful, pagan markings along the right side of her face. She looked like a tattooed Amazonian princess. The swirling, interconnected patterns highlighted her doe shaped eyes and high cheekbones. Rowan and Jenna clapped with enthusiasm, reaching up with eager hands to touch. 115


"No way kiddies, it has to dry first," Chloe gently reprimanded. Jake, who so far had stood silent, stepped forward and lifted her chin with one long finger. Raising her gaze, Ameril was seared by a flash of heat. He looked ready to fuck her on the spot. If there weren't a ton of people milling about, along with curiously fervent children near by, he probably would have. "So, what do you think?" Chloe asked, moving back some to let Jake view his fill. "She looks wild ... untamed," he answered, his voice low and guttural. The wealth of hidden meaning in his words wasn't lost on Ameril, and the images careening through her mind made her aware of every aspect of his masculine, commanding persona. Chloe chuckled, making her start like a guilty child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. "Give it ten minutes to dry before any kind of strenuous activity, okay?" Knowing her cheeks were probably beet red, Ameril glanced at Rowan and Jenna, who thankfully were occupied elsewhere. Even though she and Jake insisted on paying, Chloe remained steadfast. "No! Just walk around and tell everyone to stop by. Besides, you're helping me, really. You're the first adult I've had all day, plus you're drop dead beautiful. It's like free advertisement. When folks see you they'll be sure to line up for real tattoos at the shop." Ameril became convinced of the validity of Chloe's suggestion later after several gaggling teens, and a few old 116


timers, remarked on the intriguing design. Following orders, she pointed them to Chloe. She and Jake continued to walk around the fair after Rowan and Jenna had run off to be with some of their other friends. Ameril kept stealing fleeting looks at Jake, before finally voicing the thoughts rolling around in her head. "You're really enjoying yourself, aren't you?" "Surprised?" "Frankly, yes. It's hard to imagine the rich and powerful Jake Macmillan as the festival type of guy." Jake nodded, as though accepting her assessment. "I'd be lying if said I did this on a regular basis, but I think everyone is entitled to a moment to stop and smell the roses." "Is this what you're doing? Stopping to smell the roses?" "On any given day, I usually work about sixteen hours. There are thousands of people, directly and indirectly, depending on me for their livelihood. Simple luxuries like this," he waved an arm around, "are a blessing." "But you have enough money to never have to work." He laughed. "Can you really picture me jet setting around the world?" A couple of days ago, she wouldn't have had a problem seeing that, but the more time she spent with him, the more Ameril found it hard to imagine him as a flagrant, about-thetown play boy. "No, I guess not," she murmured. "You're too dynamic to just sit on your ass all day." "Why Ameril, I think that may be the first compliment you've ever given to me." 117


Pinching him, she teased, "Don't let it go to your head, buster." "Oh, I'm sure you'll never let me get too full of myself." Jake's comment, while on the surface flippant, underlined a deeper meaning she was finding harder and harder to resist. "I don't know how I can stop that when you're already full of yourself." "Confidence, my dear, it's only confidence." Ameril smirked. "Yeah, right." Shaking her head, she motioned toward the stage in the center where a mike and speakers were being set up. "I promised the girls I'd root for them. Let's go." The talent show was open to anyone with guts enough to get on stage and perform. Everyone was applauded equally for their spirit, even if they weren't very good. Ameril struggled to contain her giggles through two horrible performances of Earth Angel and Brown Eyed Girl, the latter song by a besotted husband to his very pregnant wife in the crowd. Rowan and Jenna danced to the Jackson Five's, Rockin' Robin, like two little adorable sprites, and for them, Ameril cheered the loudest. But, the competition was blown away by a tall, ebony skinned beauty who belted out a rousing rendition of Destiny Child's, Survivor. Margie was the emcee, and she presented everyone who had performed with a small, plastic icicle. The winner not only got the trophy, but a two hundred fifty dollar gift certificate to Miller's General Store.

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Ameril winced, heat suffusing her face, as the paunchy Jeremiah Miller stepped on the stage to hand the winner her certificate. Jake laughed at her shocked expression, and kissed her gently. "You're blushing." "And it's all your fault. I can't believe you closed down the store to-to screw around. He probably told the whole town I'm some sort of tart." Cavalier like only the truly rich could be, he shrugged. "Jeremiah would never say a word." "How can you be so sure?" Looking over, his gaze became hard like flint. "Because he wouldn't like the consequences if he did." There wasn't a doubt in her mind that Jake was deadly serious either. She didn't know everything about him, but she was positive very few people ever attempted to cross him. The power he held over others should have frightened her, but she found herself peeking at him under the veil of her lashes, vividly imagining his raw animal magnetism. Deepseated yearnings unfurled in her belly as her breathing accelerated to match the rampant longing crawling through her limbs. Jake narrowed his eyes, cocked his head to the side, and Ameril could see the change—the dominance—overtaking his body. "Are you ready to go?" Even his voice had taken on a commanding note. Falling deeper into a chasm of lust and submission, she was prevented from answering by the timely—or untimely— 119


arrival of Rowan and Jenna, flushed with happiness from their talent show performance. "How did we do?" they both squealed at the same time. Wide eyed, Ameril took a hasty step away from Jake. "You guys were great!" "My dad said even though we didn't win, we were the best," Rowan chirped. Jake smiled, though his eyes lingered a moment longer on Ameril before looking down at the two cherubs jumping up and down in front of him. "And your dad was right." "Next is the auction for the heart foundation. You have to stay for that too. Granny said I could go up because Grampy's going to bid on me. You can go up too, Ameril. I'd bet you'd get a million gazillion dollars," Jenna steamed ahead as usual, issuing orders like a well-trained, four-star Admiral. Ameril shook her head, peering first at Jake then Rowan and Jenna. "Wait a minute, slow down. What is the heart foundation?" "It's a charity for people with bad hearts. They give them money so they don't get sick," Rowan volunteered. "Oh please, you gotta go up, Ameril. Don't be shy," Jenna pleaded, jumping up and down. Staring down at the angelic faces, she tried to think of a plausible excuse the two determined six year olds would accept. Mentally grasping at straws, she jumped when Jake smacked her rump, urging her none too gently toward the stage. "Go ahead and go up. You might just fetch a million gazillion dollars," he said, winking. 120


Ameril didn't like the sound of that, especially knowing he could give a million gazillion dollars without batting an eyelash. "Don't you dare," she whispered furiously over her shoulder. "It's for charity," he called, laughing at her thunderous frown. "Don't worry. I won't let anyone else buy you." "That's very reassuring. Why don't you go up there?" "Perish the thought. Who would bid on me?" Who indeed? A hunk like Jake would probably start a riot. Laughing at the image of little old ladies digging out their pocket books, she grinned at him evilly. "Afraid?" "Mortally," he answered. Rolling her eyes, Ameril walked away with Rowan and Jenna to stand behind the stage, listening intently as Margie extolled the terrible facts associated with heart disease. "Heart disease is one of the leading causes of death in the United States. It affects men, women and children equally. The sad fact is many of the diseases can be prevented or offset by early detection. Yet people often ignore the warning signs because of the high cost of treatment and care, which can range anywhere from fifty to one hundred thousand dollars. The Save a Heart Foundation offers free testing and services for low-income families, or anyone who needs it. This year, to help raise some of those much needed funds, we've agreed to hold a small auction." The crowd began to cheer and Margie raised her hands for silence. "Now, don't think of it as buying someone. The Melting Festival is definitely not promoting that! Think of it, instead, as a chance to save a heart, with the added bonus of proving your love. Okay ... so 121


I'm going to start the auction with a wonderful little girl who is the sparkle of my eye, Jenna Michela Neri, my granddaughter." Margie motioned for Jenna to come on stage, and Ameril smiled as her short little legs literally skipped up the stairs. Someone from the crowd yelled, "One hundred dollars." "Two hundred dollars!" "Three!" Ameril, watching like a spectator at a tennis match, listened with one ear as Rowan provided the play-by-play, explaining that the two men bidding were Jenna's dad and Grandfather. "Sold to the handsome man in the back for five hundred dollars," Margie preened, smiling fondly at her husband. Next up was Rowan, who was the subject of a bidding war between her mother, father and a good looking young man who had to be her brother. Next was a teenage girl who waved excitedly at a well-built lad wearing a green and gold lettermen's jacket. He offered fifty dollars, but was quickly out done by the girl's scowling father. The muffled, "Aww Dad" made the crowd and Ameril laugh. After her was the serenading crooner, whose pregnant wife volunteered the highest sum yet, one thousand dollars. A thunderous burst of applause sounded, and Ameril tried to scoot further back as the 'line of auctioned' began to thin. She'd always been a good sport for charity, but she'd rather write a check than go out on that stage.

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Finally everyone, except her had done their part, and she began to breathe a sigh of relief until Margie's booming voice singled her out. "I think we're missing someone." Frozen in place, Ameril tried to blend into the wood next to her, but Margie's eagle eyed gaze found her easily. "Bring your butt out here, young lady. If my six year old granddaughter could do it then you can bet your bottom dollar you can." "No, I'm going to write them a check. Actually, I've got cash so they won't even have to go to the bank," she said, waving her arms in denial. Margie fixed her with a relentless stare, pointed at the stage, and said in a no nonsense voice, "Get out here." Startled by the changing of a woman who'd gone from matronly auctioneer to demanding and hardnosed in a matter of seconds, she walked up the few steps leading to the platform of the stage. "Oh look," Margie praised. "Doesn't she look like a goddess with that beautiful design on her face?" The crowd murmured an agreement as a yelping howl of joy sounded from the back. Chloe ran up, undaunted by the amount of attention she stirred. "And if anyone wants to know, I did that! You can have the same if you come by my booth. Or ... if you'd like something more permanent then be sure to come by Chloe's Tattoo Parlor, located on the corner of Bartley Street and..." Margie frowned, but looked like she was trying to contain a bout of laughter. "Thank you, Chloe." 123


Rebuked, the eccentric vendor faded back, but not before giving Ameril a huge thumbs up. Well, at least she's enjoying this! "Okay, so now that we've got the plugs out of the way, why don't we start the bidding?" "Fifty dollars!" This was from the young guy in the lettermen jacket, who promptly received a punch to the arm from his disgruntled girlfriend. "One hundred dollars," Two childish voices chimed at once, and Ameril smiled as she waved to Rowan, Jenna and their respective sets of parents. "Two fifty!" Unsure who yelled the amount; Ameril peered around the crowd looking for the mysterious bidder until her eyes clashed upon a dark, heated stare. "One hundred thousand." Jake didn't even need to shout, his voice carried with the silencing effect of a trumpet blast. Margie, who looked completely floored, recovered with amazing aplomb. "Well ... since I don't think there are any other takers, please give a round of applause to Jake Macmillan and his beautiful companion Ameril Haverton for their generous donation. And-and many thanks to everyone who participated, this is sure to be a-a day to remember for Save a Heart and the Melting Festival." With the crowd parting like the red sea for Jake's tall stature, Ameril waited, helplessly reminded of another stage, and another time when she had looked down on him. Then she'd been naked and weary, afraid to lose his dominant nature, but now she stood waiting—hoping to unleash it. 124


Chapter 10 Jake accepted numerous hearty pats on the back as he walked toward the stage, but his eyes were reserved only for Ameril. She looked so beautiful standing there, her blond hair haloed by the sunlight with the intriguing, glittery tattoo swirled upon her face. An overwhelming surge of emotion soared beneath his chest plate, making him feel as if his feet took flight above the ground. Conscious of the eyes upon them both, Jake schooled his features as he helped her jump from the platform. Though, as her body slid against his, he couldn't resist placing a passionate kiss on her lips. Cotton candy, sweet sugary confection and the pure taste of Ameril coated his tongue until he felt breathless. The roaring, clapping crowd buzzed in his ears, but it didn't matter in the least. "Are you ready to go now?" he murmured, holding her close because her body was shaking. "Yes. Please take me home." Her sweet submissive tone set off a five-alarm fire in his cock, and he gently pushed Ameril in front of him to hide his growing erection. Waving goodbye to Rowan, Jenna, Margie, Chloe and the other gawking onlookers, who were staring at them like they were some sort of rock stars, he steered them toward the car laden parking lot. 125


The quiet drive back took longer than he liked due to the incoming and outgoing festival traffic, but soon enough he was pulling into the cabin's long winding driveway. Shutting off the engine, Jake sat for a moment, breathing deeply. As difficult as it was to control the unbridled demands of his mind and body, he needed to be sure of Ameril. Sliding his right hand into the crowning glory of her thick blond hair, he turned her head so she faced him. Steadily she looked at him, her luminous eyes a mixture of anxiety and desire. Though she was seated, still and motionless, the emotions raging from her were like pheromone smoke signals. His eyes narrowed with lust, the well of need he'd been holding so firmly in check cracked under the pressure. Handing her the keys, he ordered in a surprisingly sturdy voice, "Get up to the room, take your clothes off and sit on the bed to wait for me." Ameril blinked, but reached for the door handle without a word or a murmur of protest, even her body language spoke of the need to submit to him. As Jake watched her move toward the house, a roil of burning hot lust-filled lava poured through his veins, firing nerve endings, synapses and his pulsing, rock hard cock. He needed—craved—to have Ameril beneath him, her body pliant as he dominated her from head to toes. There was no explanation for this need, hadn't been one since he discovered the hidden desires at the age of nineteen 126


when a bout of rough sex unleashed something buried deep in his soul. All he knew was that it was there—and prevalent. Most of his sexual acquaintances were impressed enough by his money and stature to do whatever he wanted anyway, but he'd yet to find someone who desired to submit to him because of him. That is, until he'd found Ameril. To this day, Jake would never understand what it was about her that drew him like a lodestone, but he was lost from the very moment she stepped on the stage at the Classy Lady. He could still remember thanking God that she wasn't the woman Steve had had his encounter with a year ago. He couldn't even imagine what would have happened if he and his brother desired the same woman. Thankfully, Alex, not Ameril, was the one who had ensnared his brother. Jake gave a breathless laugh as he reflected back to that night, and Ameril's ridiculous challenge. If she had thought an outrageously priced dance would make him flee then she'd had another thought coming. He wanted her, and by then nothing on earth could have prevented him from having her. Yet her useless ploy had played right into his hands, effectively allowing him to trap her by her own demands. He'd brought Alex into it because he didn't trust Ameril not to back out once the deal was made. The fates played their cards then just as they were playing them now, and again he was presented with a moment that would decide the very balance of his life. Although her body had been accepting at Miller's, Jake knew her mind had resisted. But the look she'd given him 127


before exiting the car told him clearly, this time, Ameril's mind and body were in accord. Now it was up to him to show her that he deserved her trust. Jake had never been so supremely aroused in his life. Just the thought of Ameril waiting—naked—made him quicken his steps up the stairs. The smell of rich oak wood, fresh flowers placed earlier by Margie, and contained lust tingled through his nostrils. Jake didn't know if the blazing sun or his wild lust was responsible for the increased temperature, but one thing was for certain. His body felt ready to explode. Mounting the last step, he took a gulp of air to steady his nerves. Even though a part of him wanted to burst through the closed door, pin Ameril down and fuck her with hard, deep strokes, the stronger emotions of cherishing, protecting and pleasuring his beautiful, spirited lover were more powerful. These two divergent desires allowed him to slowly push open the wood panel, his body controlled and ready. Ameril sat on the edge of his king size bed waiting for him, just as he commanded. Her nude body was flushed, but her breasts were plumped, the nipples distended. She looked like a heathen offering, complete with a ritualistic tattoo on her face, and his cock jumped beneath his pants at the thought of taming her. The sunlight offset the deep rich burgundy of the down comforter as his eyes encompassed every aspect in the room. 128


He'd never dominated a woman here—ever. And Ameril was the only woman to grace this bed. Lust and possessiveness coalesced in his mind, tangling with the obsessive yearnings in his body, the idea of firsts not lost on him. He could have stared at her forever, but his body demanded that he move closer. Inhaling the rich fragrance of her arousal, Jake walked across the room to stand in front of the bed. He spared her face a minute glance before pushing her thighs apart to gaze at her fleshy, puffed cunt. The large bud of her clit was swelled, peeking through the lips of her pussy. Moisture had collected so the super soft, shiny skin radiated under the refracted light. Standing this close, the sweet smell from her body wafted stronger. "Did you touch yourself?" Jake asked, already knowing the answer to his question, the thought of her deft, nimble fingers caressing her pussy without his permission hitching his desire upwards by a notch. Ameril looked away, blowing out a breath. "Yes." "Why?" "You were taking too long." Normally, he might have let a transgression like this slide, or only punished her for a minor infraction, but he knew Ameril was testing his will power—testing the levels of his control. "And here I was thinking you were such a good girl to wait for me. But you didn't wait at all, did you?" Trailing his fingers along the inner lips of her cunt, Jake used his other hand to 129


turn her face toward his, saying in a hard, commanding voice, "Why don't you show me what it was you were doing before I got up here?" Ameril widened her eyes, appearing as though she wanted to protest, her body rigid. "What do you mean?" "Lie back on the bed and play with yourself." "But-but, I thought you were going to fuck me." "Lie back on the bed and play with your pussy, Ameril." Nostrils flared, her blue eyes narrowed into icy blue slits, and she stared at him, her jaw clenched. "No," she uttered, like it was the final word in the matter. Jake, in tune to the rebellion within her, positioned his body so he towered over her frame. "Fine, since you don't want to cum. You can watch me." Disengaging his hand from her cunt, Jake quickly left Ameril to walk into the en suite bathroom, emerging moments later with a bottle of lotion. "What's that for?" "You need a lesson in obedience and patience." "So, you're going to smear me with that." "No. I'm going to show you what you missed by not following my orders." "I don't need you for an orgasm, Jake." Not fooled by her insubordinate tones, he smiled. "Good," he murmured, sitting down in the large cushioned chair adjacent to the four-poster bed. Unzipping his pants, he freed his cock, and watched her eyes widen. "Then I guess we'll both be pleasured." 130


Flipping the cap open, Jake tipped the bottle and squeezed until three dollops of cream fell into his hand. His eyes trained on Ameril, he smoothed the thick liquid onto his hard shaft, looking on as her head trailed up and down with his unhurried motions. "You're supposed to be pleasuring that beautiful pussy of yours, Ameril," Jake reminded, hard pressed to ignore the tingling from his groin. Focusing instead on her pleasure, he again let his gaze roam between her thighs. "Show me how you like to please yourself." There was no dissent this time. Ameril spread her legs, her fingers latching to her pussy as she slithered one hand between the folds . Jake was sure she wasn't aware of the fact that her gaze remained riveted—entranced—on his cock, and the motion of his stroking hand. He was sure she didn't know that every single time he'd stop to assess her, she gave a breathless gasp. Even knowing all this, Jake watched over and over as Ameril finger fucked, pinched, and flicked at her glistening cunt, his own desire mounting to unparalleled degrees. Ameril looked so determined, but no matter how much she moaned, climax seemed just out of her reach. "Cum," Jake urged, his hand continuing to move up and down on his member. Her eyes were so wide he could see the milky whites around her pupils. "Let me touch you," she pleaded. 131


"No. You like to pleasure yourself. So, I want to see you cum all over those pretty fingers." "I-I can't. I have to touch you." "Beg me." Jake let the domination in his voice carry across the room, though he kept his tones low and hushed. "Please." "Let me know what it is you want, Ameril." "Please let me touch your cock, Jake. I'm b-begging you." She looked so pretty—so submissive—sitting there, her body bouncing back and forth as though restraining her legs from acting out. A pulsating jolt hardened his erection so it felt like molten steel, the spider like veins bulging against his palm. He was leaking fluid from the tip now, enough to wet his fingers with copious amounts of warm, sticky pre-cum. Tossing the bottle of lotion aside, he stared at her, his eyes narrowed with intent. "Do you like sitting there watching me jerk off?" Jake didn't require a response. Ameril must have known it because she stayed silent, her gaze shifting to the corner. "Look. At. Me. Ameril." Her eyes returned to his, but she couldn't hold his purposeful stare for long, her gaze immediately falling back to his cock. The only sounds in the room were from the seconds ticking by from the overhanging wall clock. It was like everything not associated with time had stopped; even the air was still. 132


Jake waited, sensing the penultimate moment of Ameril's surrender. "I'm sorry," she whispered, raising her face to his. "Please let me touch you. I promise to do anything you ask," she paused, and the glazed look in her eyes spoke of truth. "Anything." Her words served to heighten the pounding ache in his groin, and even though his mind relented to her entreaty. Jake pinned her with a hard look. "You better." Crooking his finger, he beckoned her to come before him. The lesson had been achieved. Jake knew this before Ameril's breathless pleas. But to truly tame her, he had to have her desire completely and firmly within his grasp. When she stood before him, legs shaking, and her body barely upright, he ordered, "Kneel." Not even a second passed before Ameril fell to her knees. She looked at him, then at his cock, seemingly spellbound within a haze of lust. Raising her hands, the tips of her fingers hovered centimeters above his silken, hardened flesh. Jake knew she wanted to touch him, but the fact that she waited for his permission pleased him greatly. The longing in her bright, blue eyes was like sheer torture on his control. Yet rewarding her so soon after her defiance would be foolish, and he needed to be doubly sure Ameril understood the intrinsic nature of both their desires. "Who do you think can pleasure your body more, Ameril, me or you?" There wasn't even a flicker of uncertainty across her visage. "You, Jake ... only you." 133


"Be sure, Ameril," he muttered, titling her chin so she was forced to look into his eyes, "because that beautiful cunt of yours isn't allowed to cum unless my cock is buried deep within or I tell you to. I'll punish you severely the next time you try to please that pretty pussy of yours without my permission. Do you understand?" "Yes," she breathed. "Yes, Jake. I promise to never do it again. Now please ... please let me touch you," she begged. "I hurt so badly." The trembles in her body, desperate signs of her submission, affected him like nothing ever, but he knew her desires were angling her mind into orbit too soon. He had to take control of the lustful anxiety rioting through his feisty lover, or she'd be a wreck when he finally pushed his cock inside her hot, tight cunt. And, Jake assured himself, he would be pushing his cock inside her very soon. Groaning at the thought of sliding into her heated pussy, he clutched Ameril close to him, the strength in his arms pulling her from her knees. "Such a good girl ... so beautiful. I'll make the ache go away, baby. I promise." His murmured words of praise and seduction eased her, and Jake stroked Ameril's hair, continuing to speak softly as he held on to her lithe, shaking frame until the quakes subsided to dull vibrations. Now it was his body clamoring with an unrelenting ache. Primed and ready to fuck, his cock pulsated strongly, and Jake knew Ameril felt it. 134


She moaned, and leaned closer, rubbing her face against his hair. "Can-can I touch you now?" Even though the tethered lines of his control were fraying at the edges, Jake shook his head. Ameril was submissive, completely within his control at this point, but he needed to accustom her to the level of dominance that would always, and eternally, belong to him. He just needed her prone, legs wide, so he could fuck her, fuck her, and fuck her. Then she'd know for certain. "B-but you said I'd been good," she murmured, slight pools of tears making her eyes bright with unfulfilled passion. "Yes, you have been a good girl, so sweet and compliant. That's why I'm going to give you what you really want, Ameril. Now, get back on the bed. Grab the headboard. Lie there and don't move." The slight flicker of erotic fear in her eyes ticked off another wire of his control. The edge was drawing closer, and Jake wasn't sure how much longer he could stop the restless urges in his body from taking over. The rushing blood in his cock caused his unruly member to beat so strongly, he could almost hear the whizzing in his brain. Nearly out of control, he quickly stood to help Ameril up from the floor, propelling her toward the bed. She crawled across the mattress on all fours, her ass high in the air, her cunt puffy and prettily aroused. The powerful tether Jake had been holding on his emotions finally snapped. Dominance, pleasure and power slammed together until the only thing left was throbbing, unswerving need. 135


Ripping off his clothes, Jake was on her in a second, his cock lodged so deep inside her cunt Ameril screamed with a mixture of pleasure and pain. Lifting her arms above her head, Jake fisted her hands around the wrought iron headboard. "Don't move them," he growled. Ameril shuddered and tossed against the pillows, her head rearing back, her spine arching so her pussy pushed up against his cock, taking him—impossibly—deeper inside. Jake growled at the tight fit of her sheath, braced both his hands on the side of her body, and pushed Ameril's thighs apart with his spread legs, so he could pound into her warm, wet flesh the way he'd been wanting to ever since he stepped through the door. The feel of her clenching pussy was heavenly, hellish and completely consuming. He'd never experienced anything like it. Her body was like an anchor against the crashing waves of desire, and Jake held on for dear life, afraid to lose her to the current. "I love you, Ameril," he moaned, his soul spitting the words forth though he knew she wasn't ready to hear. "Jake!" The final tumult for the both of them had reached the end, and Jake came in a torrent of hazy bliss, with Ameril's clenching pussy sucking more and more from him as she joined him, crying out in orgasm. Collapsing against her, spent and sated, Jake caressed the sweaty edges of her hair. 136


Ameril looked tired, but the flicker in her eyes, and the fact that she'd yet to release the headboard, told him exactly what he needed to hear. Bowing his head against her breasts, he said the only thing he could. "It's okay, Ameril. I know you love me too, but you don't have to say it, right now."

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Chapter 11 "Trouble sleeping?" Ameril looked over her shoulder at Jake, before rolling her eyes back toward the picturesque scenery off the bedroom veranda. "Well, since I'm standing out here at one in the morning. I'd say yeah. I had some trouble." Silence engulfed them as a cool fresh breeze chilled her skin, ruffling deciduous leaves in the distance. The glow from the crescent moon cast a pale, shadowed light on the surroundings, creating utter darkness in the areas covered by thick, green foliage. Owls and other restless creatures of the night hooted and ticked softly, their calls merging with the whistling wind. In another time and place, Ameril might have been spooked by the eerie setting, but it reminded her so much of herself, and her life, she felt content. Leaning further against the railing, she took a deep, steadying breath. "David Windham," she finally said, breaking the silence after a few more moments had passed. "You asked me that night at the club what his name was," Ameril paused, and turned around to look at Jake. "It's David Windham." She'd expected a shout of triumph, maybe even a curious glance; yet Jake remained stoic, the milky light contrasting against his bronze skin and silky black pajama bottoms. Ameril figured it was his stillness that gave her the will to continue, though she wasn't really sure. Words were 138


careening around in her brain, and she couldn't stop them from coming forward. Blowing out a breath, she stared into his eyes. "Young girl meets a handsome guy who turns her life up side down. I'm sure I don't need to regale you with all the gory details. You're smart enough to figure it out on your own." "Did he hurt you?" Her teeth clenched with remembered pain. "Yes. He hurt me." Jake sighed, and again the wind stirred with restlessness. "But I am not him. I will never be him." "Right, you're the guy who's filthy, fucking rich with thousands of people and a billion dollar company at his disposal." She shrugged. "The whole world is your oyster." Jake narrowed his eyes. "Don't try to compare me to him, Ameril. I would never, ever hurt you." "How am I supposed to know that? Everything with you is wrapped around control! You say you love me, but in the same breath you want to dominate me. How is that supposed to be love, Jake? How is that any different than what David wanted?" Growling, Jake took a step forward. "I told you not to compare me to him. I am nothing like that bastard. Do you think we'd be having this conversation if I were?" "Don't try and turn this around on me." "Why not? Are you the only one allowed to paint the pictures here?" "I know what you're doing, Jake, and it won't work," she muttered. 139


"What am I doing?" He quickly closed the distance between them, grabbing her arms to pull her flush against this body. "Take a look around you, Ameril. Take a look at everything that's been going on between us, and tell me who has all the power in this relationship, me or you?" "That's just my point. Relationships shouldn't be about power and control." "Love is power, and lust is control." "I don't want to be in love with you, Jake!" Once the words had left her mouth, a terrible ache burned in her chest. Ameril felt the hot richness spreading beneath her breasts as her heart beat with a ferocious pace. "Then there is nothing more to be said. We're leaving tomorrow, and I'll take you home. After that, you'll never have to be bothered with me again." Jake turned away, his spine straight, his carriage proud and his head held high. He was leaving. He was going to forget she'd ever existed. He'd probably forgotten about her now. She should let him go. But she couldn't. NO! No, he had to stay and be with her. She couldn't let him go. "I'm sorry," she yelled, running after him to throw her arms about his waist. "I didn't mean it. Please don't leave me." 140


Sobbing against his back, she gripped him like a vise, and let loose all the emotions bubbling inside until there was nothing left. It was just her, Jake and the howling wind. "I'll be whatever you want. Just-just don't..." Jake shuddered, and turned so rapidly she nearly fell down. "Enough of this back and forth shit, Ameril. Enough! Tell me right now, right here that you want to be with me!" "You'd said you would give me time," she whispered. "And I will, Ameril. But you need to make a choice because we can't keep doing this." Sliding his fingers into her hair, he pulled her close, tilting her head upward so she was forced to stare into his stark, uncompromising gaze. "I do love you, and I'm willing to let you tie me in knots until you're ready to trust me with your heart. But, you have to take the first step." There seemed to be an "or else" hovering in the air. She could hear the sentiment even though Jake hadn't said it. Strangely though, the succinct finality running through her brain made Ameril realize the choice truly was hers. He would not force her hand. She could end this if she wanted. The decision was up to her. "I want to be with you, Jake." The words, so simple, left her breathless. Jake leaned his head to one side, wiping away an errant tear that had fallen to her cheek. "Are you sure?" Ameril laughed. "No, but I don't want you to leave me. It's like I can't imagine myself without you."

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There was something missing from her statement, words that begged to be said, but she wasn't ready, and she pushed them aside, focusing on the here and now. "Thank you for saying that. I know it wasn't easy for you," he whispered, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on her lips. Leaning further into his embrace, the fraught tension eased away into something more potent and powerful as his lips continued to slant across hers. Ameril took the lead, entwining her arms around his neck so she could pull him closer. "We shouldn't be doing this," he murmured, though his mouth still caressed hers, "especially if we want to get back at a decent time." The gripping vise around her heart eased as she fingercombed his luxuriantly thick, brown hair. "We don't have to get back that early." "Don't you have class?" Ameril lifted an eyebrow, pulling his head toward hers again. "Yes. But it's not until five, and Professor Gomez won't boil me in oil if I'm a little late." "He won't, will he?" Jake said, picking her up to carry her back into the bedroom. "Higher education must be easier than what I remember." He tossed her on the bed, but not before peeling away her lightweight, cotton pajamas, his gaze alternating between her bald, shaven cunt and bared breasts. "I think you're getting off easy." "He's a nice man," she whispered, her body responding to the look in his eyes. 142


"Is he now?" "Yes." "Tell me about him while I stick my tongue inside your pussy." Wow! Was he serious? "Is that an order or a request?" Jake chucked softly as he removed his pants, his naked cock jutting thick and long. "I don't know. What do you want it to be?" Having been served with a full helping of choices this night, and slightly surprised by Jake's unusual, lighthearted sexual moment after the laden tension on the balcony, she teased, "Am I exempt from punishment?" "No." Disheartened, she pushed herself into the pillows. "Well, in that case, I won't ask." "Ask?" Jake commanded. Smiling, Ameril raised up. "I want a night without retribution. Just one night where I-I can command you." "You want to dominate me?" "Just for one night, Jake." "Why?" Ameril stared at him, her eyes flickering. "I don't know. I-I just want to do it." The look he gave said he would have preferred something else to happen. "Fine. What do you want?" "Uh ... I'd like for you to eat my pussy," she ordered, though her voice lacked the stringent quality so easily found in his. "You want me to eat you out?" 143


God! He made it sound so much better. "Yes," she murmured. "Where do you want me?" His head between her thighs was a good idea. Pointing, Ameril eased her legs apart, pulling the lips of her pussy until she knew her clit was revealed. She did avoid pleasuring herself because she really didn't want to be punished for that later. "Here," she finally said, "Lick and suck my clit really slow." "You want it slow, or do you really want it fast so it makes you pant with pleasure?" Fast or slow? Fast or slow? Fast or slow? "I don't know, Jake. Just lick it." Leaning his head to one side he looked at her strangely. "You have to tell me what it is you really want it, Ameril. How am I supposed to know how to please you otherwise?" "You didn't ask me this before," she said, referring to the last time he'd insistently sipped from her pussy, the first night they'd met. "That's because even then, I knew how you wanted it." "How?" Jake smiled then, leaning forward to place his head against her bare stomach. "You're high strung and high maintenance. It's in your nature to be indecisive." "So, lick it fast then lick it slow." "You sure you don't want me to lick it slow then fast." He was driving her crazy! "YES! Do whatever you want. Just lick my pussy!" Jake laughed richly as his head dived between her legs. 144


Ameril didn't need to worry about how he pleased her because he did so in spades, his tongue moving slow then fast and all around like he was on a serious mission of intent. Arching into his grasp on her hips, she gave way to the efficient, smooth feeling of his mouth, bouncing her ass up and down as she literally tried to connect her pussy to his face. The slurping, sucking sounds he made added to her building lust. Jesus! It was as though he wanted to eat her alive. His tongue wriggled like a snake up and down from the crack of her anus to the orifice of her cunt. She moaned loudly, her eyes rolling back in her head. Jake fed from her pussy over and over, sticking or twisting his tongue inside both holes of her body until she screamed from multiple orgasms and came in his mouth so many times she thought he might gag on the fluids issuing from her body. The bed had to be wet from them both, but he didn't stop. Jake buried his face between her legs, sucking her entire cunt into his mouth. Slow then fast ... then fast then slow ... then slow then fast. He repeated each motion thrice before rearing back to stare at her, his eyes hazed over with arousal. "Now, what do you want?" Ameril leaned back into the pillows, breathing out a shallow breath. "Oh, Jesus ... don't ask me that. Make me cum some more. Please." "You like cumming in my mouth?" 145


Nearly beyond coherent at this point, her eyesight wavered. "Yes," she moaned. "What if I want to cum in your mouth?" She swallowed at the thought. "Please, let me suck your cock." "You're supposed to command me, Ameril," Jake breathed, his body already moving around the bed so his large, jutting erection hung thick and long over her lips, the blunted, mushroomed tip brushing across the fleshy surface. "I-I don't want to dom-dominate you anymore, Jake. Please let me suck your cock. I need it," she begged, senseless to everything but the taste, touch and feel of Jake Macmillan. Sinking his hands deep within her hair, he stared at her. "Are you sure you're done?" "Yes," Ameril groaned, not caring that she hadn't dominated him one bit. "Yes, I'm done." The reaction to her words was swift and merciless. Gone was the tender lover who had carried her into the bedroom. He'd been replaced by the domineering man she craved. Yet there wasn't time to think about it any longer, her scalp tingled as he roughly shoved his cock inside her mouth. "Suck it. Show me how much you want my cock." Bursts of moisture erupted in her mouth, easing the invasion, and Ameril sucked greedily. She'd never tasted anything so good in her life, and she wanted more. Jake must have read her mind because he held her head still, repeatedly stroking inside. Dewy drops of his pre-cum 146


saturated her tongue until his shaft hardened like a pike and a flood of semen shot down her throat. Lapping every last ounce, the sounds of his harsh breathing and muttered curse words filled her with immense warmth and satisfaction. After the final trembles had left his body, Jake collapsed against her, his face turned toward hers. "Fuck," he sighed. "I think I need to let you dominate me more often." "Yeah, right," she mumbled, not even impressed by his attempt at a joke. "No, I'm serious. That was fantastic." Flipping over on the bed, she gave Jake her back. "You are such a liar." "Well, parts of it were fantastic anyway." Ameril chuckled as she settled deeper into the mattress, a comfortable silence settling across the room, in tune with the languid peace of her body. Without warning, Jake pulled her into his arms, raining a light spatter of kisses across the back of her neck. "I want you to quit working at the club, and move in with me. I'll take care of you from now on." Stunned, even though she'd been expecting this, she inhaled a shallow breath for courage, knowing he wouldn't like her answer. "I don't think that's such a good idea. We barely know each other." "We're in bed together ... right now. I think we got past the knowing stage a while back." Rolling her eyes, she looked away. "You know what I mean." 147


"Are you going to be difficult about this?" "Is it going to matter if I am?" "We need to be together, Ameril, holding each other like this every night." God! It was so very tempting. "This is all moving so fast, Jake. Can't we just slow down and date, or something." Turning her around, so she lay flat on her back, he looked down at her, his eyes had a piercing intensity. "How about we compromise then? You quit the club and I'll move in with you?" "That's not a compromise. It's the same exact thing." "Okay, no living together for now. Quit the club and I'll buy you a house near mine, preferably next door." "You know the only thing that doesn't keep changing about all this is me quitting the club." Jake bowed his head, and sighed against her breasts. "I'm two steps from murder every time you're in there, Ameril." Even though she had already planned on leaving the Classy Lady, she didn't want to give in too easily. Plus, she needed to let him know she would not, under any circumstances, be his kept woman. "So, I quit my job and depend on you for food, clothes and shelter. From my perspective, that doesn't sound like much of a compromise. And what happened to giving me time? You're just steamrolling me into what you want." Jake groaned, nuzzling against her skin. "I'm a good guy, Ameril." Laughing because he sounded like a little boy who had his toys taken away, she caressed a lock of his hair. "I don't want 148


to rush into anything, Jake. I'll quit, but I won't move in with you, okay? Let's just take this slow, see what develops. Besides, I'm really messy and I can't cook worth a damn." Lifting his head, he wriggled his eyebrows, looking adorable with his pouting expression. "I have two housekeepers and a cook," he offered. "No dice." "Well, it was worth a try," he muttered. "So, what are you going to do about employment?" Not really wanting to give a lot of thought right now, she shrugged. "I'm sure I'll find something. Maybe I'll look into a couple of internships." "Why don't you come and work at Macmillan Enterprises?" "Absolutely not." "You can work in the legal department. You can even go through the whole interview process if you want." "Stop while you're ahead, Jake." "C'mon, you're acting like it wouldn't be a real job. I'll have you know, Macmillan Enterprise only hires the most talented people." He smiled, and tweaked her nipple. "And you, baby, are very talented." "No," she said, shaking her head. "I will not work at your company, Jake. End of story." Sighing, he dropped his head back to her chest. "So let me pull some strings and get you a job at Bright, Miller and Stover." Ameril blinked. Bright, Miller and Stover was one of the most prestigious law firms on the West coast. Their coveted internships were the crème de la crème, and they actually 149


paid well too. "Can you do that?' she asked, tempted by his offer. "Mmm hmm, they handle a lot of our cases, and Donovan owes me a couple of favors." "Donovan Miller?" His hand tightened on her breast, and Jake slowly lifted his head, narrowing his eyes. "You know him?" "No, not personally, but I studied one of his cases for an exam. He's a brilliant lawyer." Smirking, he leaned forward and kissed her. "I could have been a brilliant lawyer." "Too bad you decided on the millionaire path." "Billionaire," he corrected. Ameril smirked. "Whatever." "Can I make the calls?" She shouldn't let him, but Bright, Miller and Stover was a chance of a lifetime. The connections she'd make, as well as the knowledge she'd receive would be worth the concession. Besides, it wasn't like she'd be the first person to come in through the backdoor instead of the front. She could prove her herself, without help from Jake's indomitable influence. At least she hoped she could. "You won't tell anyone there about us, will you?" "I'll tell him you're a good friend of the family. How's that?" Probably the best she could hope for under the circumstance. "Okay, do it." Ameril was sure she'd made a huge mistake, judging by the triumphant look in Jake's eyes, but she let it go because 150


the night was no longer young and she was tired, the emotional whirlwind from earlier beginning to weigh on her. Though it would probably be professional suicide, she could always walk away from Bright, Miller and Stover if things didn't work out. The thought helped to ease her doubts ... somewhat. "Go to sleep, baby. You'll see. Every thing is going to work itself out." She didn't want to admit it, but Jake's murmured words helped to ease her as well. Sighing, she snuggled deeper into the warmth of the mattress and his body pressed against her, thinking tomorrow they'd be back in the real world, the idyllic cabin setting miles behind them. Though there was one last thing on her mind, and she couldn't go to sleep without asking, "How come you never mention anything about birth control, or protection?" "Because I knew you'd bring it up eventually," he yawned. She should have expected his cavalier response. "Well, I'm on it," she muttered. "Just in case you wanted to know, and I'm clean if you were wondering." "Go to sleep, Ameril. We have to leave early tomorrow. And, for the record, I have no diseases, and I'm gainfully employed. I already knew about you though." "How?" she shrieked, trying to shift in his arms. "Go. To. Sleep." "You know the domination doesn't extend outside the bed, Jake."

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"Really," he said, laughing. "Well, I guess it's a good thing we're in a bed then. Now go to sleep before I put you to sleep." Leaving off on arguing with his stubborn butt any further, she pulled the blanket higher until it rested against her neck. Jake kissed her shoulder, and within moments it was lights out for him. As she drifted off to sleep, the sounds of Mother Nature's creatures called outside the window. Ameril decided to let fate take its course—for better or worse.

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Chapter 12 Ameril had just gotten home from school and was washing dishes when several loud knocks, shook her door. Blinking in confusion, she set down the plate she'd been cleaning, dried her hands, and walked to the mini size foyer in her apartment, squinting through the peephole. Surprised by who was on the other side, she let them in without the standard, "who is it?" "Oh my gawd! Are you alright?" Alex asked, bursting through the door as soon as Ameril opened it. Alex gripped Ameril tightly in a hug. Lessening the asphyxiating hold, just a bit, she peered up at Alex who was taller by a couple of inches. "I'm fine, but how did you know I was home?" "I talked to the asshole himself." "Jake?" "Yeah, I've been blowing up his cell phone ever since I left the club this afternoon." "Wait a minute. Why were you at the Classy Lady?" Ameril asked, disengaging the arms around her neck and closing the door behind them. "Are you kidding? Rachel was going to put out an APB if she didn't hear from you, and I was so worried after I got that call from Jake." "You talked to him twice?" Ameril asked, feeling like a squawking, questioning parrot. 153


"Yesterday morning, he called while Steve and I were leaving the airport. Why? Didn't you know? He said you were busy." Ameril shook her head. "No, I didn't know, and I wasn't busy," she gritted, remembering back to the morning of the Melting Festival. "He said he had to use the phone, but I didn't know he was calling you." "Bastard! Did he hurt you? 'Cause if he did I'm going to his house right now to rip his dick off!" Ameril couldn't help it. She laughed outrageously, doubling over because her stomach hurt from the tight clenching muscles. Catching a breath between giggles, she shrieked, "Thank you, I soooo needed that." Alex didn't look happy, or amused, instead she peered at her like she had lost her mind. "Jeeze, what is wrong with this picture? I'm freakin out, and you're acting like you're watching Comedy Central." Yet again, another bout of giggles hit her, and Ameril stumbled to the couch. "I-I'm sorry, man. I'm not laughing at you. It's just..." "Will you stop?!" Alex screamed, stamping her foot and throwing her purse on the floor. "I was enjoying a wonderful time in our nation's capitol with my fiancé, who now might not even be my fiancé, when I turned on my cell to find nine," Alex popped both her hands in front of her, wriggling her fingers, "nine messages! Five from Flavia, who says you'd been kidnapped. Three from Rachel saying she's going to call the police if she doesn't hear from you, and one from you, missy, telling me you're at some cabin with Jake. I have been 154


absolutely out of my mind with worry, and I just had a wicked, terrible fight with Steve because he knew where you were all along and he didn't tell me when I asked him the first time. AND ... you're fucking laughing!" Alex's angry words immediately sobered Ameril. "I'm sorry. I wasn't laughing at you, or anything. It-it's just this weekend had me all topsy-turvy, and it seemed so isolated. But to find out other people were experiencing a little bit of the craziness was ... funny." Staring into her friend's, narrowed, green gaze, she amended, "Not funny, I mean." "Christ, Ameril. What in the world has been going on? I know about you and Jake, but it isn't like you to just up and disappear." "I know, and I'm sorry for worrying you. I guess I wasn't really thinking about how it would look at the time. I did try and call you though," she mumbled, bowing her chin to her chest. "Yeah, but you didn't explain a single solitary thing about what was going on." Alex sighed, and sat down on the couch. "Look, I'm sorry for berating you like a mother hen. I just got so frantic after Steve told me about..." "Told you what?" Darting her eyes to the corner of the small apartment, her friend stood and began smoothing the fabric of her jeans. "He just mentioned a few things to me after Jake had called him." She'd bet Steve had told Alex some things, but she doubted it was just a few. And, when in the world did Jake talk to his brother? 155


Feeling like a reveler who at the last minute understood they had never been invited to the party, Ameril began to pace. "And you thought I was somewhere tied to a bed being beaten with a horse crop?" "Yeah, that's what I thought," Alex said, sitting down again. "And it freaked me out because I know you're not into anything like that. I thought he might be hurting you." A scalding flush of embarrassment heated her cheeks, and Ameril flinched, lowering her eyes to the carpeted floor. She'd never told Alex about her relationship with David Windham. She trusted her friend not to judge, but some secrets were better off dead and buried. Though, now that the cat was definitely out of the bag, she felt uncomfortable having part of her life laid bare. "But, he wasn't hurting you, was he?" Alex sounded unsure, her voice a bit off key. Looking up at the ceiling, Ameril stopped trying to wear a hole in the floor, and exhaled a long-suffering breath. "No," she answered simply. "I don't want to pry, but I need you to explain some of this. I mean, what happened? How did all this between you and Jake start?" "Don't give me that, Alex. You were there too. Remember?" "I didn't mean that night..." "Will you just drop it? Jake likes to give orders when he fucks, and I like to take them. Is that what you wanted to know?" 156


"Ameril, it's just hard to understand!" Alex rose from the couch as graceful as ever. "You never once mentioned anything was going on between you two? Why didn't you tell me?" Blowing a puff of air, Ameril turned her back, not wanting her friend to see the anguish in her eyes. "Come on! Would you really have appreciated me saying, 'the brother of the man you're screwing wants to dominate me in bed and is scaring me shitless?' You've been so wrapped up in Steve, the only conversations we have are about him!" "That's not true." "Yes it is! After that night at the club, you two basically started shacking up, and the only times we talked you were either confused about Steve, deliriously happy with Steve, or ridiculously upset at Steve. There wasn't really a chance to talk about me, and what I was going through!" Turning around, Ameril expected to see Alex spitting mad with fury after what she'd unloaded—some of it fair, some of it not—but the last thing she figured to glimpse was the blanched expression on her friend's face. Whatever anger she'd been begrudging, banished at the startled, depressed look. "You're right. I have been too much into Steve," Alex said dismally, falling back to the couch with a huff. Immediately riddled with guilt, Ameril took a step forward and offered a conciliatory hand. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of that, and I am happy for you and Steve." "Yeah, but that doesn't excuse my behavior. We're friends, best friends, but I, obviously, haven't been acting like one. I 157


should have known what was going on between you and Jake, or at least been available so you could have talked to me about it. This whole thing with Steve and I is moving too fast. I've let it take control of my life," Alex stopped, looking up with a guilty gaze. "And, I've let it take control of the lives of my friends too." "No, Alex. It's not..." Just then Beethoven's Symphony No. 3, Eroica, jingled a warbled blare of polyphonic tunes from Alex's hip. Alex started, before pressing a hand to her hip, almost like she wished to stop the intrusive rings from her cell phone. Ameril, knowing the classic was one of her friend's favorite pieces of music, ventured a guess, "Is that him?" Rolling her eyes, a determined look came over Alex's face as she pinched her lips, and removed the sporty, slim Motorola from the custom case holder clipped to her jeans. "Steve? ... It's not important ... No, listen to me. I have something to tell you ... That doesn't matter, will you just listen? ... I-I don't think we should get married." Oh no! Ameril listened to the one sided conversation, a sense of dread filling her soul. The only thing worse than having one Macmillan brother after you was having two Macmillan brothers after you, and she knew Alex's hastily uttered words would not only bring Jake's wrath, but Steve's as well. Hoping to stop her friend from making a huge mistake, she waved her arms and began jumping up and down to get her attention. 158


Alex ignored Ameril's frantic calls, dropping her head forward so her long burgundy reddish locks fell forward over her face. "I'm not upset, Steve, and I'm not making quick decisions. I just think we should wait ... But I've been abandoning my friends because of you ... They wouldn't even be a thing if weren't us ... Yes, I love you, Steve, but I'm saying we should wait." Alex flipped her cell closed, finally staring up with a pained expression. "He said he's on his way over." Jesus! "How does he know where I live?" "He's rich, Am. He knows. Plus, I'm sure Steve would ask Jake if he really wanted to find out." Well that was just great! "Get your purse." For all her previous bravado, Alex stalled, her posture saying she wasn't sure about moving. "Why don't we just wait for them? Then we can tell them what's on our minds." Ameril loved Alex, but her friend could be seriously dense when it came to men. "Riiiighhhtttt. Get your shit; we're going," she muttered, grabbing her own bag from the counter. **** "What did she say?" Jake was more than a little curious, especially since Steve had just thrown his very expensive cell phone against the wall in his office. "She said she wants to wait to get married," his brother muttered, looking ill at ease for even having to say it. "I'm 159


telling you now, Jake, fix this shit, or I'm going to have your ass." "I don't know what you'd like me to do..." "This is your problem! And somehow, someway, it's come into my life, and now I have to pay the price for you and your bullshit. Things were fine between Alex and me before you began this crap with her friend. Now, after all this, my fiancée wants to wait. So, start again about what you don't know." Jake hated feeling like an errant child set to task; he was so well beyond that phase. He stared at his brother with all the antagonism he could muster. "Any issues you have with Alex are not my and/or Ameril's issues!" "Don't 'fuckin fool yourself. I'm letting you know, from now on, if I have an issue because of you and Ameril, then it is an issue for you too." Standing from his large, executive chair, Steve glared at him. "This is why I didn't want you messing around with her friend. Alex is very sensitive, and she's taking this shit as a personal affront." "This shit?" Jake said slowly, his voice cold. "I know you are not referring to my relationship with Ameril as shit, Steve. So, why don't you take a moment to re-phrase that last comment?" "Give me a break! You're known for fucking women like there's no tomorrow. You've never even had a girlfriend." Jake opened his mouth to refute, but Steve stopped him by slashing a hand in the air, "and Buffy Menken doesn't count since you left her at the prom so you could fuck some other chick." 160


Did I do that? Jake could barely remember what Buffy Menken looked like, much less leaving her at the promotional dance. "I don't usually have a problem with your swinging dick, bro," Steve continued, "but when that appendage starts to get in the way of my life, I'm going to have serious problems with it all the time!" Exhaling a breath, Jake plopped down in one of the two, large chairs in front of his brother's desk. He'd give any amount of money to be ensconced again with Ameril at the cabin. In hindsight, their time there was like a dream, an unparalleled illusion blocking out the rest of the world. He had known there would be consequences because of their quick escapade, but he truly hadn't expected the backlash he was facing now. After he'd dropped Ameril at the Classy Lady, so she could pick up her car and head to class, Jake made his way to Macmillan Enterprises. The multi-structured, slick looking office building greeted him, along with Constance, his sister, Marie, and his brother, Steve. He couldn't even make it toward the haven of his office, before they corralled him in the lobby. His secretary handed him a thick pile of messages, glared at him and walked away. Marie wasn't nearly so circumspect. She kicked him the shin, pointed her finger into his chest, and let him know she was calling mom "right now". Steve was the worse, however, with his accusing eyes and cold silence. Jake had been ready to turn around and walk out, but there'd been no escaping his brother's fury. 161


Shepherded into the private, executive elevator, he'd been forced to endure his brother's rant, which still hadn't stopped. "The part that really gets me is I covered for you with mom and Alex, thinking I was doing you a favor, but this is the return I get for trying to help you out." "I'm a grown man, Steve. I don't need you to cover for me with anyone," Jake retorted. "Look, you wanted to get your rocks off. I have no problem with..." He had enough of the innuendo, leaning forward he slammed his closed fist against his brother's desk. "Shut your fuckin' mouth with that shit! I love, Ameril, so whatever you're implying needs to stop." "Jake, you've only known her a few weeks at best." Lifting one imperious eyebrow, his expression clearly said the pot should never call the kettle black. "And?" Steve had the good grace to appear sheepish before regaining his seat. "I'm only saying this isn't like you." And wasn't that the truth! As Steve so adroitly pointed out, he'd never taken any woman as seriously as he took Ameril. There had never been a spark, any type of igniting flame that made him want to hold to them for long periods, unlike Ameril who fired his blood with an unquenchable fever. It wasn't just lust, though he did lust after her hot body. She fit him and made him whole. She was like the missing link to his mystery of life. "I love her," he said simply, tuning back into the conversation. 162


His brother didn't look convinced. "Well, if that's the case then this problem shouldn't take you long to fix." "I'm still failing to see why I need to fix anything between you and Alex. As you've been yelling for the past hour, my dick shouldn't be in your business, and I agree with that because I don't want your dick in mine either." Satisfied he'd gotten the last word. Jake rose from the chair to stride toward the door. He'd only come into the office this evening to gather a few files. Constance, as well as the rest of the staff, were competent and capable of handling his absence, but there were a few things in the works only he could oversee, mainly the Pryco merger with Leslie Crouse worth over a billion dollars. "When you called that first time, I sort of let slip a few things about your ... sexual proclivities," Steve called out. Halting dead in his tracks, Jake turned and glared at his brother. "What are you talking about?" Ignoring his question, Steve persisted, unperturbed. "Alex assured me there was no way her friend would ever be into anything like that." Jake wasn't really concerned about how his brother had found out about his preferences, considering the rarified circles they both ran in. He would have been more surprised if Steve didn't know, but to share that with Alex had him clenching his fists in steaming anger. He wasn't embarrassed, hardly, but he knew Ameril would be, and he couldn't stand for that. "What gives you the right to share my personal business with your girlfriend?" 163


"The fact that you're sleeping with her best friend does," Steve responded, his voice quiet, but laced with authority. "The fact that you absconded with said friend in the middle of the night from her place of employment, nearly causing the police to be called. And lastly, and this is the important point, the fact that you put Alex and I smack dab in the middle of your shit storm. Do I need to keep explaining the facts here, Jake?" Even though Steve's words made a lot of sense, he still couldn't get past his fury. "That still didn't give you the right," he muttered, teeth clenched. "Absolutely, and just for the record, I could care less about what you do and how you do it, but you involved a lot of people in this because you were so hell bent to get your hands on Ameril. I know a lot more about this than I should ... a lot more, and I'm not going to make assumptions about you two; but you gave away your rights to privacy by not handling this appropriately." Not even close to being mollified, Jake shook his head. "What would you like me to do, Steven?" "For starters, sit down and stop glaring at me like I've done something wrong." From his point of view, whether or not Steve had done something wrong was debatable, but Jake knew if he didn't give in one of two things was going to happen. Either they'd continue arguing, or they'd come to blows. Not in the mood for either event, he sat back down near the desk.

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Expelling what sounded like a grateful sigh, his brother pressed the large red button on his multi-purpose telephone. "Grace, get Malone on the line." There was a minute's pause before Matthew Malone's deep, rich, New York accented voice filled the air. "Malone." "Matt, where's Alex right now?" Jake suppressed a smile, not in the least surprised that Steve had placed a shadow detail on his fiancé. He, himself, had planned on putting something similar on Ameril as soon as he had a chance. "Wait one," Malone responded with military crispness, and a click sounded as he placed the call on hold. Returning a few moments later, he gave them the detailed report. "She left the apartment of one Ameril Michelle Haverton about twentyfive minutes ago, and is now at a bar," a male chuckle crackled through the speaker, "called D.B. Cooper's Last Pull." "Thanks. Give Grace the address for me, will you?" "Sure thing, Steve, do you want me to assign some more men?" "No, just make sure that they don't leave. My brother and I are going to be headed that way." "Consider it done." After Malone had disconnected, Steve leaned back in his chair. "Do we take your car or mine?" Jake thought for a moment, before responding, "Neither. You wanted me to fix this, so we're going to do it my way."

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Chapter 13 "Here you ladies go, two blended margaritas, doubled up on the Cuervo just like you asked." Ameril, already inebriated from her first drink, smiled at the freckle faced, bleached blonde, buxom waitress, and reached for her purse. "You are a life saver, Trista." "No need doll. See those gentlemen over there? They graciously volunteered to pay in exchange for your phone numbers." "Tell 'em to fuck off! We're in a hate-all-men mood tonight," Alex said, jumping in. "Well, I won't say that, but I'll be sure to let them know you're not interested." Trista turned away, laughing, and headed back toward the bar and the two young guys sitting at the bar stools staring at them. "Wow, you're a bitch, Alex." Her friend took a long draw from the pink straw planted in the middle of her glass before answering, "I'm in a bitchy mood. What else do you expect?" "Not a damn thing, girl," Ameril yelled above the din of music and chatter. "I'm just wondering if it's your plan to get rip-roaring drunk, so I can join you." Lifting her glass for a toast, Alex blinked like an innocent schoolgirl. "Me? Drunk? Now, you know nice young girls from Michigan never drink to excess." "Yeah, but us party girls from Oklahoma do, so now what?" 166


"I'm your buddy to the end. If you wanna get drunk." Alex took another long swig from her margarita. "Then I'm going to be right there with you." Smothering the giggle in her throat because she knew her friend still felt guilty, Ameril looked over her glass, saying seriously. "It just happened, this thing between Jake and I. You shouldn't blame yourself, okay." "You wouldn't even have met him if it weren't for me." "True, but if I had met him and you weren't there, this would still be going on." Alex's cheeks reddened and Ameril could almost see the wheels turning in her brain. "What's it like, the whole domination, control thing?" "Different," she responded truthfully. Adding, "And it's not for the faint of heart either, just in case you had any ideas." "Do you like it?" Smiling, she bypassed the straw and dragged from her own drink, needing a bit of Dutch courage. When she rested the base of the glass on the high standing circular table, she peered at Alex. "Do you think I'd let him do it if I didn't?" "I don't know. The Macmillan's are a powerful bunch of people. Steve has a way of getting whatever he wants. It's difficult to deal with at times." Having been branded with her own form of Macmillan, myway-or-the-highway justice, she laughed. "Tell me about it. Jake's law unto himself, and he doesn't give a shit what people think." Alex shook her head. "They are so super rich, Ameril. I mean, I've seen Steve's name on the Forbes list, but you 167


can't imagine what all that money entails until you are part and parcel within it. Anything, everything, they want can be had, gotten or bought. While we were at the Smithsonian, there was this part cordoned off because they were refurbishing the interior. Steve called the director, personally, and made them open the section. Just for us, mind you. I was shitting my pants because it was a new exhibit not set to be revealed until next year!" "Wow," Ameril murmured. "That's not all. You should have seen all the people fawning over him at that senate hearing. He acted like it was no big deal, but believe me, it was a big deal for them." "Is that why you told him you wanted to wait to get married?" Alex picked up her drink, but set it down nearly as fast. "Yes ... partly. I just don't know if I'm capable of living up to their standard. His family is cool, way cool. But, I want a simple life. I don't know if I can deal with all his extras." "There's a big rock on your hand that says you will." Twisting the carats around her finger, Alex stared at her glass. "I didn't pick this. Steve said he wanted me to have it. I only let him because it was the cheapest one in the store. It cost like fifty grand, though." Ameril hoped no one else in the seedy bar figured out how much money the ring was worth, or they'd have some trouble trying to get out. "You do love him though, right?" "Yes, desperately and hopelessly, but the question is do you love Jake?" 168


Did she love Jake? The question had been pole-axing her brain since the moment they'd left the cabin. Although he repeatedly said the words, she didn't know how to respond. Fear, unrelenting desire, and unparalleled lust were what she felt most. Generally, it was just fear though. Not knowing what to say, Ameril settled for the unvarnished truth. "I don't know. There was a man, a long time ago, who hurt me really badly. I'm not sure if I can trust another person like that again." "This has to do with the whole dominance/submission thing, right?" "Partly," Ameril replied, throwing her friend's word back at her. "So, what part of it has to do with Jake?" Alex sounded more curious then condescending, and Ameril silently thanked her friend for not judging. "Everything you mentioned. He's rich, powerful and I wouldn't stand a chance if he tried to hurt me." "I never said Steve would hurt me. In fact, I know he would never do that. I'm just afraid of his money." "How do you know he'd never try and hurt you? What would happen if you made him mad? "You think he's not mad now? Guaranteed, he's scouring the streets looking for me." Alex sounded so assured and confident, Ameril started, expecting to see Steve Macmillan at the door of the Last Pull. "Damn, don't scare me like that!"

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Laughing, Alex took another drink. "He loves me. It took me a while to figure that out, but I know he does love me. I just don't know about the rest of it." Not sure what to say, Ameril fell into her own hazy world of remembrance. Jake's hand on her breasts, the look in his eyes as he stared down at her, his cock pushing into her heated pussy over and over. The dominance would always be a part of him, but then again submission would always be a part of her. As much as she'd like to deny it, the truth was the truth. Focusing back on the conversation, she stared across the table at Alex. "So, why are you here with me then?" "Because you're the best friend I've ever had, and if I'm going to be anywhere drowning my sorrows, it should be with you. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you before, but I promise to be here from now on. No matter what happens between you and Jake." Tears welling in her eyes, Ameril looked away because a bar wasn't really the place to get emotional. Unless of course, you wanted everyone to know you were drunk, which of course she wasn't—yet. "And I'm sorry for saying what I did earlier. I'm so extremely happy for you and Steve it's not even funny. You deserve all the blessings, Alex, and I mean it." "So do you, Ameril. So do you." "The love coming from this table is great," Trista said, intruding smoothly and grabbing their empty glasses. "Shall we go with another round?" 170


Ameril giggled. "Yes, keep bringing them until we pop." "I don't want you two ladies to pop, but I'll bring you two more margaritas." "This time, I'm going to pay for them," Alex insisted, reaching into her bag. "Sorry, but it's already been covered." Playfully gagging, Ameril pretended to stick her finger in her mouth. "Please don't tell me it's from the two punks at the bar?" "Nope, these are from some real men." Trista inclined her head toward the corner. Alex and Ameril followed her gesture. "And they said to tell you that whenever you guys are ready to go. They're ready to leave." Immediately placing her head in her hands, Alex muttered something that suspiciously sounded like, "Oh shit." Ameril would have followed suit, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from Jake's. Damn that man! He had a knack for catching her unprepared. "I take it you know them?" Trista asked, emptying the remnants from their glasses in a nearby plastic tub. "That's an understatement," Ameril mumbled. "Honey, if I was you. I'd get my ass up from those chairs. Every female who isn't deaf, dumb and blind has been eyeing them for the past ten minutes." Alex raised her head, staring around, dumbfounded. "How did they know where we were?" "I can't tell you that, hon, but they're here now, and between me and you. I don't think they'll wait forever." 171


Ameril was sure of that herself. The look in Jake's eyes said he wouldn't wait long. If she forced him to move there would be consequences to pay later—much later. "Don't worry about those drinks. I think it's time we left." Trista smiled and turned away, but not before calling over her shoulder, "A woman after my own heart." "You do know no matter where we go, they'll follow, right?" Dragging her gaze back toward Alex, she frowned at her friend. "I can see them, and of course I know this." "So you're suggesting we calmly go over there and leave with them?" Sighing, Ameril shook her head, resigned. "I don't think we have a choice." "Well, why did you send Trista back? I could have used another drink." Alex, who had the benefit of sitting with her back to Steve and Jake, raised her hand to flag down the waitress. "You ladies still here?" "Did they already pay for the drinks?" "Yes, I was about to bring their money back to them." Decent of her, Ameril thought. Trista laughed, and leaned forward conspiratorially. "I'm normally not so nice on the men because I figure if you want to buy the ladies a drink then you better be prepared to have your money lost, but the tip they gave me to bring that message made my night. And, since I know you guys are going to go with them. I'm going to be kind this evening." 172


Considering Jake didn't carry anything under a fifty-dollar bill in his wallet, Ameril could just imagine. It never failed to amaze her that the rich stayed so rich when they seemed intent to give money away like it fell from trees. At the Melting Festival, Jake had divided up all the notes in his billfold faced with any president under Ulysses S. Grant, and split them between Jenna and Rowan. When she had raised an eyebrow at him, confused. He shrugged. "They're too bulky." Alex had said the Macmillan's were "super rich", and though she hadn't spent a lot of time with Jake outside of Mammoth, where the pace was slower than in its cousin cities to the south. She had a good idea of his wealth, and like her friend, was a bit freaked out by the extras. "Well, bring us those two drinks. We aren't going to leave until we've had them, and you go right on over there and tell them that, too." Trista chuckled at Alex's comment, but returned a few moments' later, carrying two large glasses of icy green margaritas filled to the brim. Pulled from her thoughts, Ameril angled her gaze toward Jake. He had changed out of the comfortable linen slacks and t-shirt he'd been wearing earlier, and into expensive, tailored business attire. The only thing missing from his ensemble was a necktie. Steve, who sat next to him, was similarly attired, but he had a tie on. "What are they doing?" Alex asked, sipping slowly from her drink. 173


Ameril hadn't even seen Trista set hers down. Sucking the thick liquid through her straw, a bout of brain freeze made her clench her teeth. "They're just sitting there watching us," she muttered. "You think we should go over there?" "Probably, but let's finish our drinks." "I can't believe you didn't see them come in." "Thanks. Since I was doing my level best to get drunk, I'll let that pass," she snorted. "I think Steve's going to be really pissed at me," Alex said, her voice barely audible above the clattering sounds around them. "I don't want to wait to get married, Am. I love him, but all this stuff between you and Jake made me realize how very little we have in common." Narrowing her eyes, Ameril glared across the table. "What do Jake and I have to do with you and Steve?" "Nothing really, it just was all so crazy, though. Flavia saw you two in the parking lot, and when she told me I was worried. I kept thinking the Macmillan's have struck again." Embarrassed, Ameril looked down at the table. "What happened had ... nothing to do with you and Steve though, Alex." "I know that now, but it just highlighted a lot of the doubts I have in my mind. It was like I set Jake on you, and I figured you'd hate me for it." "It's more than just the money that bothers you, isn't it?" Ameril asked, seeing past her friend's vague words. "Yes," Alex breathed, looking away. "I called my parents before we went to Washington to tell them I was getting 174


married. My brother was there at the house, and he recognized Steve's name. He asked him for a loan." Alex scowled fiercely. "Interest-free, of course." "Did Steve give it to him?" "Yes, but he had this really weird grimace on his face while he was talking to Paul. I just don't want him thinking my family is a bunch of crumb snatchers because we aren't rich." Strange, Ameril had her own problems with Jake's excessive wealth, but her tribulations had more to do with his near unlimited resources. As proven by the fact that both Macmillan brothers were seated at the Last Pull less than an hour after her and Alex had left the apartment complex. There were any number of ways they could have found them so quickly, and that's what scared Ameril most. Jake's money, per se, didn't make her feel inadequate, or unworthy. She accepted it as just a part of his life. Reaching across the table, she grabbed Alex's hand. "I've got news for your girl. From what you've told me, your brother is a crumb snatcher, and you could be marrying a hobo and it wouldn't matter in the least to him. Paul would still hit 'em up for money. But, I seriously don't think Steve would be marrying you if he thought you were a crumb snatcher." Alex laughed breathlessly. "Thanks friend. I don't think I'm a crumb snatcher either." "So, should we go over there now?" Ameril asked, trepidation causing her heart to stutter.

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"No!" Alex said emphatically. "Since we've been here, I've done nothing but talk about Steve, and I want to know about you and Jake. I won't leave this stool until I know." "There really isn't anything to tell. We-we're sort of at an impasse right now." "Why? Is it because you don't want to be with him?" And that's the sixty-four thousand dollar question, ladies and gentlemen. At this point, Ameril didn't have a reason why she shouldn't be with Jake. He'd gone out of his way to prove he was "a good guy"—a good dominant guy—but she knew it was only her own fears strangling the desire to be with him. But how could she explain all this? So much of her own psyche was wrapped into the fear and submission. Settling on a malleable excuse, she uttered the only words she could in the circumstance. "I do want to be with Jake. I can't tell you why, but I do want to be with him. He's like another piece of me that's been missing." "You have to be sure though, Ameril, because once we go over there. We can't go back. They won't let us." Alex, who at times could be simplistically naïve, sounded wise beyond her years, her gaze bleak and adamant. "This is your choice, and I'll stand by you, but once you make it then there won't be any going back." Already hopelessly lost when it came to Jake, Ameril stood from her stool. "Let's go over there."

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Chapter 14 The first lesson Ameril learned when she started dancing was a bit of levity always eased the moment. An icebreaker, some of the girls called it. Yet, she'd always thought of it as a tension-reducer. Some men could be ridiculously simple in their desires, and if one could circumvent the initial awkward phase then the dance would be yours. But, Ameril's skills for levity failed her at this moment because there was nothing simple about Jake and Steve, nor the stares they were directing at her and Alex. Their faces were unreadable, their postures stiff and unyielding. It was only the blazing fire in both their brown eyes that bespoke the passion simmering beneath the surface. Completely out of her depth, her feet kept her upright only because her brain said she'd fall if they didn't. The hubbub of the Last Pull faded into a distant, muffled quiet, and silence surrounded them like a warm, sheepskin blanket. Steve was the first to speak. "I'd like to talk to you, Alex. Alone." Her friend didn't so much as budge, her head swiveling back and forth between the two men. "Are you going to be alright, Ameril?" Suddenly three pairs of eyes were on her faster than a spotlight, and she felt the questioning stares from two, and a scorching intensity from the third. A muscle ticked in Jake's 177


jaw, but it was the only visible sign he showed to Alex's question. "I'll be fine," she assured, surprised her voice was steady. Alex gave Jake one last look, bit her lip, and walked away with Steve as soon as he slid from his chair. They faded into the sea of bodies crowded inside the bar. Ameril closed her eyes, gathering herself, before shifting her gaze toward Jake. "We'll give them a few moments to talk before we leave. Why don't you have a seat?" Jake seemed almost placid now that Alex and his brother had left. She wondered if the fraught tension earlier had more to do with them than her. Though, when is he ever not intense with me? The thought made Ameril chuckle. "What's so funny?" "You, me ... Steve and Alex ... it's so intense. I feel like I'm on a roller coaster with no exit," she said, only half joking as she slid into the seat next to him. "You feel that way because your nice, safe life is being disrupted." Incredulous, she laughed out loud. "Excuse me. I was abandoned as a baby, and before I could learn to walk. I had to learn to fight. I've never had a nice, safe life, Jake." "Life becomes infinitely more simple, Ameril, when you don't trust anyone. To trust is to open yourself to hurt, and you did that once with severe consequences. The only person you have any faith in now is Alex, and that's because she doesn't want anything more than your friendship," Pausing, Jake ran his fingers lightly across her jaw. "She doesn't test, 178


or judge you. But you're scared to death to give that same faith to anyone who would require something more ... intense." "That's bullshit," she rebelled. "Is it? Name all the people you trust at this moment, aside from Alex." Ameril immediately thought of Melissa and Flavia, she'd known them a long time, even longer than her best friend, and she considered them both good people. Yet, she didn't really trust them. Of course, she did like both women immensely, but she'd never felt comfortable sharing personal details, and truth be known, she didn't want to know too much about their lives either. Too much information, she would always say, whenever they had tried to persuade her to open up. A long time ago, she'd met a social worker who encouraged her in her studies. Lacie Martin had been the only individual to ever offer any type of human comfort during those difficult years. But Ameril hadn't been able to trust her either, because she'd been too scared. Twisting her fingers, she realized the only person she'd ever met who made her feel at ease, the only person who ever made her feel special, wanted and desired, was sitting right next to her at this very moment. She looked over at him then, but shook her head, afraid to let Jake know how much power he had. "Trusting people is overrated."

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Jake sighed, and grabbed her hand, stopping her restless movements. "The really sad part is you don't trust yourself, Ameril, and I could kill David Windham for doing this to you." "He didn't do anything that wasn't already done before," she murmured. "No." Jake refuted. "He destroyed what little hope you had, and left you broken ... but I'm going to make you whole, Ameril. If you don't want to believe in anything else, then please believe in that because it's the truth. I promise to give you time..." "Yeah, like a sledge hammer against a wall." "But I will test you," he continued on, untroubled by her flippant comment, "repeatedly and often because your mine and I refuse to accept anything less than the best you have to give." "You're selling yourself short with me, Jake," Ameril breathed, entranced with his powerful stare, but refusing to believe in the words that made her heartbeat pick up to a frantic pace. A loud, guttural squawk of laughter from the table next to theirs intruded on their quiet moment, bringing attention to the fact that they were still inside a seedy bar. A slight sense of embarrassment trickled through her mind, though her body was too hazed by the staunch look in Jake's eyes to pay it the slightest notice. Smiling, Jake kissed her gently. "I think Alex and Steve are done talking. Let's go," he said, grabbing her arm and helping her off the stool. 180


The surreal effect of the entire evening, as well as three margaritas, caused Ameril to feel a bit on edge. Bodies pressed against them as they moved through the crowded bar, the smell of sweat and alcohol rampant. When they finally stepped outside into the cool night air, she took a deep, refreshing breath, her gaze absently wandering toward the glistening, white Mercedes Benz limousine parked near the entrance of the Last Pull. The luxury stretch vehicle looked very out of place amongst the line of Harley-Davidsons and shabby cars parked nearby in the lot, as did the driver, with his black suit, white business shirt, black tie and black cap. Remembering what Alex had said about the encompassing nature of Macmillan wealth, Ameril felt a bit stunned when the chauffeur walked smartly around to the door, leading to the interior, and opened it with a crisp, professional flourish. "I don't want to leave my car," she protested, awestruck by the amount of wealth being tossed about. "Someone will deliver it to your house tomorrow. Don't worry." "But they don't have the keys, and what if it gets stolen, or something?" Jake lifted an eyebrow. "They won't need the keys, and if your car gets stolen I'll buy you a new one." Stifling any further complaints, he gently propelled her toward the open door. Ameril looked over her shoulder, letting her gaze tell him she didn't like being handled, and he smiled back, his stance implacable with determination. 181


She sighed, knowing she'd lost another battle and climbed inside the plush interior, Jake following closely behind. She'd never even seen the inside of a limo before, except for on TV and movies. Had this situation been normal, Ameril would have taken a second after settling herself against the lavish, tan Corinthian leather seats to view the shiny, chrome plated bars, or the three, twenty-inch plasma screens forming a triangle from the ceiling. If she'd been aware, she might have felt out of place in her worn khaki pants and light, cotton knit, red shirt, but her sight and mind were frozen on the two, writhing figures separated by the scant distance of soft blue-gray carpet. Steve and Alex were entwined in a nest of passion. His mouth pulling so strongly from one of her revealed breasts that Ameril could see the suction effect on his cheek. Both their eyes were closed in images of extreme bliss, and neither of them seemed to notice they had viewers. Spread bent-eagle, one knee braced on the floor, the other knee nuzzling repeatedly between Alex's jean-clad thighs, Steve's long frame draped the cushiony bench on the other side of the limo. Loud slurps and moans echoed in the hushed interior, and even as the car started to move, subtly jerking Ameril forward, she couldn't draw her gaze away from the lustful sight. Every inch of Steve's long, pink tongue curling, swathing and licking at Alex's rouge peaked nipples brought her body to awareness. Images of Jake's cock inside her mouth swarmed through her mind. A rush of warm fluid saturated her cotton panties as she continued to watch, mystified. 182


Steve settled on both his knees. Alex moaned when the contact against her pussy was lost. Soothing, murmuring indistinct words only the two of them could hear, Steve slowly kissed his way down the flat planes of her stomach, his deft fingers working first the straps of her shoes and then the button and zipper of her fitted jeans. Alex arched upwards, helping Steve slide the thick material past her hips and ass, the soft rustling of fabric against expensive leather sounding deviously erotic in Ameril's mind. Clad now in her unbuttoned shirt, askew white bra and matching high-cut panties, her friend looked wanton in the extreme with her legs spread and open, one foot propped against the headrest of the seat while the other twitched against the floor. Groaning loudly, Steve didn't even take the time to remove the flimsy piece of material guarding Alex's cunt. He just swept the scrap aside, and buried his head between her thighs, licking and feeding from her pussy. Fascinated by the way Steve's lips, tongue and teeth stimulated the soft folds, Ameril felt a wave of pure unadulterated lust rushing through her. Sliding her gaze toward Jake, expecting to find him enthralled with the prurient scene, she was shocked to discover his eyes singularly and wholly reserved on her alone. Another wave of lust, this one more powerful and blinding than the first, moved through her, and she began to shake, expelling a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Jake closed the distance between them, moving across the plush seat, so the hard muscles in his legs brushed up against 183


her thighs, adding more fuel to the conflagration raging inside her body. Caught, entangled within a fevered vortex of passion, she couldn't have looked away from his powerful stare if she tried. Her breasts ached to be touched, and her pussy screamed for attention. Ameril knew the hunger within had to be blazing from her eyes, but she didn't care. She needed to feel his cock, and she begged silently for him to fuck her— hard and rough—the way he knew she liked it. Responding to the unspoken entreaty hovering in the air, Jake clutched her close, kissing her, his mouth wide so he could stick his tongue inside her moist depths. Their breaths mingled as she moaned, the muscles in her cunt clenching spasmodically from the building ball of pressure in her stomach. Yet just as suddenly, he pulled away, respiring harshly, his eyes narrowed, his head cocked to the side. Ameril knew, just knew, what was coming next, and her body tingled with anticipation. "Get on your knees," he commanded. His voice, while hushed, held the usual tenor of dominance, but she didn't move—couldn't move—her gaze flicking across the sparse distance of the limo. Steve lifted his head from Alex's glistening wet pussy, and stared at them, the look on his face was curious. At the same time, Alex turned her head, the rich, lush waves of her red hair pooling on the carpet. Her expression was intrigued, but her eyes conveyed her thoughts. I don't judge you. I accept you for who you are. 184


The words didn't have to be spoken for them to be heard. Falling to her knees, Ameril bowed her head in submission, and started to turn toward Jake. "No. I want them to see." The partition window, separating the driver was closed, so the only people who would be watching were Alex and Steve. Slightly embarrassed, Ameril shifted her body as ordered, but kept her head lowered, her cheeks burning. The only sounds heard were from the loud whizzing of cars rushing past the cruising limo, making Ameril wonder if anyone outside of the driver, hiding behind his barrier, had a clue of what was going on inside. Undoubtedly the professional man she glimpsed earlier knew. She'd once read in a magazine that all limo drivers thought the passengers were fucking as soon as the dividing wall was raised. Knowing it was, or was about to be, true in this case. Ameril lowered her head further, not in shame though. She was beyond feeling ashamed. Focusing in on the moment, she began to tremble restlessly. Jake had never waited this long to issue commands, yet he seemed to be waiting for something. "Don't ever try and come between us," he finally murmured. "This is none of your business, and I don't want to have to do this again." Upset, because she figured those words were meant for her friend. Ameril started and looked over her shoulder. Jake frowned, dropped his hooded lids even further, and grabbed a hold of her tresses with one large hand, pulling her head backwards until she stared into his eyes. The ratcheting 185


effect from the pleasure and pain caused Ameril to moan aloud, and she bit her lip to stifle the surge of lust careening through her body. "Did I tell you to turn around?" he asked, his voice hot and cold at the same time. "No," she groaned, hissing and pushing her buttocks against his legs. "Since you want to be disobedient, Ameril. Why don't you show Alex how you compensate for your transgressions? Show them both how you like to please me." Orbiting within the haze of Jake's aggressive, demanding words, his rough hand tingling against her scalp, she turned on him rapidly, grasping at the buckles and restraints containing his cock. Not even a minute passed before the lower half of him was naked, and she sucked his thick, long length inside her mouth, reveling in the velvety flesh smoothing against her tongue. When Jake slid his fingers in her hair, pushing his cock further inside, she groaned at the drops of cum beckoning her taste buds. "That's it, baby. Show them that you belong to me. Suck on my cock," Jake groaned. No longer caring about Alex and Steve, no longer caring about where they were, or how they got there, Ameril lost herself in his pleasure—and hers. Her lips smacked around him, swallowing every drop of his essence, and Jake vibrated, his cock pulsing. Shuddering, he pushed her away. "Turn around," he growled deep in his throat. 186


Compliant, she twisted with the long ease of having performed a similar maneuver hundreds of times before on the stage. The soft bristles of the carpet burned slightly, but she ignored the pain now, just as she did when the hard marble bruised her knees then. Steve had returned to feeding from Alex's pussy, his mouth slanting against the soft tissues of her cunt over and over, his hands braced against her inner thighs to push them further and further apart. Alex, though, had yet to look away, her eyes glassy and unfocused as they rested on Ameril. Something completely uninhibited passed between them, more unspoken words that didn't need to be said aloud. Fuck him. I want to see it. Moaning softly, Ameril said the only thing she could to Jake. "Please," she whispered. "You're such a good girl," he responded, his voice close to her ear, his arms wrapped around her front with his hands caressing her breasts. Jake reached behind her, underneath the lightweight material of her shirt, to unclasp the hooks of her bra. Diligently he removed the rest of her clothes and shoes. He lifted her from the floor with one arm and shed her pants with the other. He placed her in his lap, his hard cock lying against the entrance of her pussy. Naked, physically and mentally, she stared at Alex, unafraid to let her see, unafraid to share this moment. 187


Jake thrust inside her cunt in one smooth motion then, causing Ameril to cry aloud, and her eyelids nearly drifted shut. Spreading her legs, she leaned forward to rock against him. He moaned, she moaned, and suddenly Alex bolted from her prone position like a wild woman, pushing Steve away from his continued eating of her pussy, so she could grab him and straddle his thighs. Her friend ripped away at the opening of her lover's expensive shirt until the buttons popped. How Alex opened Steve's pants and got to his cock was lost on Ameril as Jake began to stroke inside her cunt—faster and faster. Lost within her own world, she gave herself to the ricocheting pleasure surrounding her, falling back against Jake so she could cum ... and cum ... and cum. **** "You draw your lines of demarcation well, Jake," Steve uttered, covering the figure of the curled, nude woman resting against his thighs with a jacket, his other hand tangled in her dark hair. "Stay out of my business, Steve," Jake replied, wrapping his arms around Ameril's naked sleeping frame, which was coiled around his body and sitting in his lap. "I mean that. What happens between me and her is our business, and it has nothing to do with you and Alex." "Point taken to the extreme, bro. Don't worry." Sighing, Jake lowered his chin against Ameril's lush, blond locks, the soft feel of her hair soothing. 188


At first, he hadn't wanted to take her in front of his brother and Alex, but the need to show them, prove to them, what was between him and Ameril was real, became overpowering once all the lust began. The feelings and emotions inside the head of his beautiful love were already tenuous enough without the added disaster of someone else's anxiety and worries. Alex, as Ameril's friend, would always be there, but she too needed to see that their situation was completely different than what she had going on with Steve. Jake respected both of them, and knew they each cared, but he would not, under any circumstances, allow either of them to dictate what was right for him or Ameril. Feeling his brother's gaze upon him, he rolled his eyes, but deigned to keep from looking over. "What?" "I was thinking they like to watch each other." Jake smiled, and wallowed in the fragrant smell from Ameril's body. "You think?" Steve laughed. "We may need to schedule some time on the Golden Anchor, limited crew of course." "When?" "Maybe when they're done with this semester," his brother said, wrapping one of Alex's long locks around his finger. The idea definitely had promise, but as Jake thought about the sight of a bikinied Ameril basking in the sun on the deck of his three hundred foot yacht, another thought occurred to banish the lovely image. "I promised to get her a job at Bright, Miller and Stover." 189


Steve started forward, distressing Alex on his lap. He took a moment to soothe her, rubbing his finger against her cheek, before responding in a hushed voice, "Are you nuts? I know he's your best friend, but I wouldn't trust Donovan Miller within ten feet of Alex when I'm there, and if he even thought about being alone with her he'd be a dead man for sure." "I'm not worried about him. He won't touch Ameril." "You are one brave man, Jake. Especially since you know Donovan doesn't play by the rules when it comes to the ladies. He's hard and fast on the law, but with the women, he's just hard." Shaking his head, Steve looked shocked. "I don't care what Alex wanted to do, she would not be working at Bright, Miller and Stover." His brother's jealous streak and all-around consuming love for the woman nestled in his arms were the reasons Jake wasn't really worried about taking Ameril in front of him. Steve looked, of course. Hell! He had looked. But he knew no matter how many times they each fucked their women in the same room, same car, or even the same bed. He'd never have to worry about his brother wanting Ameril in any but an indirectly sexual way. Steve would probably try and kill him if he put his hands on Alex. Jake totally understood because he would kill his brother if he put his hands on Ameril. Sharing their experiences was mutually exclusive to sharing their woman. Yet, Donovan Miller had a reputation, and a history Steve most certainly had no idea about. Jake was sure his friend would be attracted to Ameril, but he was also positive he could control that lust. Letting out a silent breath, he 190


amended. He hoped he could control it, or the two of them would come to some serious blows. "He won't touch her," Jake assured, saying the words out loud for his brother ... and himself.

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Chapter 15 The Classy Lady was a ghost town. The few patrons inside consisted mainly of businessmen dressed in suits and bluecollar workers covered in grime. The haunting tunes of Jimi Hendrix's "The Wind Cries Mary" blared from the speakers. Ameril stood near the entryway, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkened interior before looking toward the stage. She didn't recognize the young brunette in the hot pink daisy dukes and skin tight, white tank top twirling about the pole, or for that matter, any of the other scantily clad girls milling about on the floor. She'd met some in passing, but since a lot of dancers came and went, the shifts were split between daytime and nighttime, and she had only worked the evenings. Ameril wasn't surprised by the lack of familiar faces. "Well, if it isn't a blast from the past." A beam from one of the stage spotlights temporarily blinded her as Ameril turned toward the voice. Startled to see Natasha, aka Natalie Friemam, standing right beside her. She smiled gratefully, extending a hand in greeting. "Nat, what in the world are you doing here? Are you working days now?" "No, not really, my sister and her kids are visiting from Florida. They've been driving me up the wall, so I started coming in to get away from them." Ameril had heard a few rumors about the sylphlike Natalie Friemam, but since she'd never been the type to pry, she 192


turned the conversation in a different direction, angling her head back toward the stage. "Who's that?" "Oh, that's the new girl, Magnum." "Magnum," Ameril replied, shocked. Over the years, she'd heard a lot of weird dancer names, but ... Magnum ... took the cake. "Like the gun?" "You got it in one. Her real name is Maggie though, so I guess it sort of fits. She just started working here a few weeks ago, but from what Rachel says, she's already got some regular customers. She's some sort of new age hippie, if you can believe it." Looking around at all the empty seats, Ameril frowned. "How does anyone make money with this crowd?" "I don't know, but she's making it by the boat load. I've only been in twice for this shift, but she cashed out more than I did." And that was truly saying something. Natalie Friemam was the definition of exotic. Her mixed heritage had blessed her with enticing caramel colored skin, thick, waist length midnight hair, high cheekbones, and seductive eyes. The dark satin corset she wore now, pushed her ample breasts into prominent view, and the matching colored skirt flowed around her hips, adding to the hint of intrigue and mystery surrounding the woman. The girl on stage must really have a vibe if she was earning more than this svelte beauty. Even standing next to much taller Natalie in her loose drawstring pants and t-shirt made Ameril uncomfortably aware of her plain appearance. "Wow," Ameril murmured, amazed. 193


"Yeah well, you can't win 'em all. I figure it's some sort of karma for all the shit I've been talking about my sister. I can't wait until she leaves. I love her kids, but she's a real pain in the ass." Unable to empathize with the family situation, especially since she didn't have one of her own, she nodded absently. "Is Melissa here?" Natalie narrowed her eyes, giving Ameril a probing stare. "So, the rumors are true then?" "What are you talking about?" "C'mon now, doll, I work here too, and I've seen the guy. Believe me, if I had a man like that chasing after me, I'd probably hang up my g-string too." Smiling, a wicked gleam lit her pair of shadowy eyes. "Well ... maybe not. But seriously though, I am happy for you, Am. You and Alex really hit the grand prize." Is that how everyone felt? Ameril certainly didn't feel as though she'd lucked out, her life was now hostage to a bunch of emotions she wasn't even capable of dealing with. "Anyway, Melissa's in the office. Go and talk to her." Turning away, Natalie eyed a batch of men who just entered the club. Glancing over her shoulder, she grinned before walking away. "And for the record, I got first dibs on your locker." A round of sudden applause echoed, drawing Ameril's gaze away from Natalie's retreating figure. The lithe, naked brunette was descending the steps of the stage, a fist full of dark green bills, tips from her performance, clutched in her hand. 194


As she watched her head toward the dressing room, it occurred to Ameril that though she would no longer be working at the Classy Lady, a part of her would always be here, as would a part of the club always be within her. Melissa had told her once she was a true dancer, and true dancers never retired—they just began a different dance for a different audience. At the time, she hadn't understood, but now looking around at the sleek velvet couches, shiny lacquered bar, and glistening golden poles. She realized what Melissa had meant. In the short span of a week her life had changed radically, but there would always be a little bit of 'Amy' residing inside her. A new girl came up for her performance, this one curvaceous and tall with dark brown hair and ebony skin. A lighthearted Garth Brooks started singing about love and regret, and Ameril smiled to herself, thinking with or without her, the Classy Lady would go on. Turning on her heels, she made her way to Melissa's office. **** Bright, Miller and Stover was just as Ameril imagined it would be. The cosmopolitan building, set in the heart of Los Angeles' Wilshire district, stood out like a glistening jewel amongst the heart of white-collar industry. Everywhere she looked, there were lawyers, budding lawyers and people who worked for lawyers. Nervous, she stood inside the large foyer, the blazing heat of the day banished by the cooling, sterile breeze from the air 195


conditioners. For a moment, she just watched the hustle and bustle, feeling slightly removed from her surroundings, her gaze wandering the lavishly designed interior. The ping from the elevator sounded in the distance, drawing her attention to the load of passengers departing, and she stared for a while before looking toward the two uniformed guards standing behind a great wooden desk. Ameril figured since she'd been standing in the vestibule for over five minutes, they were probably wondering if she was a deranged stalker needing to be escorted from the building. Smoothing a clammy palm against the soft material of her custard colored slacks, she straightened the lapels of her matching blazer, before hitching the strap of her purse higher on her shoulder. She took a deep breath, her hand reflexively touching the choker necklace Jake had given her this morning. Beautifully tooled, it was a wonder of craftsmanship and chic, modern design. Gleaming platinum connected five rows of beaded chain links to one large silver ring at the back of her neck. Complimenting the finely wrought artistry were two thin chains that fell, one above the other, to the slope of her breasts. In and of themselves, the chains looked benign, just a simple addition to the beautiful choker, but only she and Jake knew the true purpose of the small, removable silver clasps at the ends. Her face heated as she remembered Jake demonstrating their proper usage earlier this morning. Ameril had initially rejected his gift, like she had all the others, but after two solid hours of lovemaking, the clamps on 196


her nipples and Jake's whispered entreaties as his cock pushed over and over inside her drenching pussy, she'd fallen under his persuasive dominance like a stack of wobbly cards. He said he wanted her to have something to remind her of him during the day, and as Ameril fingered each link, images of Jake certainly did flash into her mind. She was under no illusions though. Jake had collared her, and though most of the world wouldn't recognize his expensive symbol of ownership for her it was emblazoned upon her body just as the emotions blazed through her limbs. As reluctant as she was to admit to him face to face, the marker of his dominance made her feel cherished and special. Shaking her head, she cleared the direction of her thoughts, and focused on the guards, who were eying her like she was some sort of odd, newly discovered species. Straightening her spine, she started walking toward them, her pointy heels clicking against the tiled floor. "Hello, I have an appointment with Donovan Miller." One of the men, a tall Hispanic with dark eyes, glanced at her warily. "Your name?" "Ameril Haverton." "I'll need to confirm this," he said, still staring as though at any time he would ask for some identification to prove she was who she said she was. The black walkie-talkie sitting on the edge of the desk looked ominous, and when he picked it up and spoke in a detached voice to whoever was on the other end, Ameril couldn't stop the nervous prickling in her spine. "I have a Ms. Haverton here to see Mr. Miller." 197


Thirty seconds passed while the guard listened to the hushed voice coming from the other end of the receiver before nodding, then fervently scribbling something with a pen he pulled from his breast pocket. He raised his head to peer at Ameril again, and all previous suspicions were missing from his face. "Mr. Miller is coming down to greet you personally ... a-and I'm sorry if I was rude earlier. We've had some death threats, but I wouldn't have given you the rundown if I'd known you were a friend of Mr. Macmillan's." Ameril rolled her eyes. The stoic, observant defender was gone, replaced by a sycophant who continued to babble about the error of his ways. Upset because Jake had promised not to mention the personal nature of their ... thing ... to anyone here, Ameril waved a hand in the air to stop his pleading discourse. "Mr. Miller doesn't have to come down. I'll go up." "No, he's already in the elevator, and his secretary said he was expecting you." Ameril narrowed her gaze. She knew it wasn't the guard's fault. He was just trying to keep his job. No doubt Jake had put the entire staff on alert. Planning out the choice words she'd say to him later, her thoughts were interrupted by the tinkling chime of an arriving elevator. Turning away, she mumbled a quick, insincere thanks to the guard before halting dead in her tracks. Jake was handsome, but the man moving toward her was, without a doubt, the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen. He could have been—should have been—peeled from the pages of a glossy magazine. 198


The crisp, gray tailored suit he wore molded to his tall body, and beneath the expensive looking fabric there were definitely muscles present. His face, sculpted with lines of defining angles, was pretty in a masculine way that defied description. Thick, wavy, dark blond hair fell forward over his brows, and his peridot eyes gazed so intently upon her that Ameril felt like squirming where she stood. Of course, she'd seen pictures of Donovan Miller in the law journal she subscribed to, but the grainy black and white photos didn't do the young, talented lawyer any justice. Swallowing a breath, she walked across the atrium to meet him half way, her hand extended in a greeting. Up close he was even more devastating. "Mr. Miller, it's a pleasure to meet you," she said, glad her voice was professional. Donovan Miller grinned in a way that was a little scary because his gaze leisurely perused her figure with the slow style of a male predator who liked what he saw. "Ms. Haverton, the pleasure's all mine," he replied, pumping her hand up and down with a firm grip. As soon as he released her, Ameril took a small step back. Though her body might react in the way an animal would to the physical perfection of a creature of the opposite sex, her mind rejected his hot look, and her hand flew to her neck as if to ward off his alluring charm. His easy smile vanished as his gaze drifted down toward her choker, and when his eyes rose toward her face again, the seductive intent she had glimpsed earlier had disappeared 199


completely. "Jake tells me you're a special friend of the family. How did you meet him?" The direct question unsettled her for a moment, and she struggled with a set of possible answers before deciding on the truth. "My best friend is marrying his brother." "Ahh ... no wonder." "Excuse me?" "Nothing," he said, motioning with a sweeping gesture toward the elevators. "I got a chance this morning to look over your CV, and I'm very impressed, top of your class at Southern California. That's quite a feat. Yet, and correct me if I'm wrong, this is your first job in five years?" Ameril tightened the grip on her purse as she stepped into the lift beside him. "No, I've been working in a completely unrelated profession." "What were you doing?" She could tell him she'd been working at McDonalds, but an accomplished lawyer like Donovan Miller would sense that lie a thousand feet away. Blinking back the sudden wave of embarrassment, because truly she didn't have anything to be embarrassed about, Ameril lifted her face to look at the beautiful man, her back stiff with a bit of hostility. "I was a dancer, Mr. Miller," she answered succinctly, her tone brusque. "Good," he said, surprising Ameril. "I was afraid you'd just been a student all this time, and you will definitely need some real life experience to be a success here. Jake's been a friend for more years than I can remember, but this law firm only 200


takes on the best and brightest, Ms. Haverton. Sheltered, privileged existences won't get you far." Before Ameril could respond, the doors of the elevator slid open. A dark skinned, African-American woman, beautifully attired in a designer tweed suit with stylishly coiffed hair, stood just beyond the threshold holding a manila folder in the crook of her elbow. Extremely polished, she was like a bracketing pillar of sanity against the ringing phones, loud voices and general, all around chaos. "Olivia, this is the new intern we discussed. Will you please show her to her desk, give her the complete tour of the premises and get her settled with HR?" The question, while subtly phrased as a request held the slight hint of a man used to getting what he wanted. Ameril had spent enough time dancing, and with Jake, to recognize the distinctive tones. Olivia smiled brightly, her white teeth sparkling. "Absolutely, Mr. Miller. This way please, Ms. Haverton." Stepping out of the elevator, Ameril looked over her shoulder, intending to give a parting goodbye, but the strong look of unfulfilled passion staring her down almost made her stumble. "It-it was nice meeting you, Mr. Miller. Thank you for this opportunity." His expression was one of faint regret as he waved briefly. "I'm sure you'll do fine here." **** Friend of the family my ass! 201


As the doors slid closed, Donovan Miller released a pent up sigh of frustration. Ameril Haverton had to be one of the most beautiful women he'd ever been fortunate enough to meet in his thirtytwo years. Though she was blond, and on average he didn't really prefer blond haired women, there had been something about her—an intriguing mixture of boldness and timidity. The stark gaze from her piercing aquamarine eyes nearly felled him at first glance, and his cock hardened beneath his trousers as he thought of sliding his hands in her thick, shiny tresses while her mouth licked and salivated upon his hardened flesh. Her tough exterior didn't fool him for a moment. Donovan knew, intuitively, beneath those exquisite breasts beat the heart of a submissive. He didn't need to see Jake Macmillan's blatant emblem of ownership to figure that out. He wanted her, and he almost didn't care she belonged to someone else. She was just the type of woman he wanted ... just the type of woman he needed. It was a damn shame she belonged to another. Though there had been instances in his life when he was willing to forgo his pride and honor, he'd been a friend to Jake Macmillan for too long to try and steal his woman. Besides, knowing Jake as well as he did, his friend would probably kill him. Donovan respected life too much to risk it. Jesus though!

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He'd never been so aroused, or so desperate, in his life, and as the elevator climbed to the upper levels of the building he and his partners owned, he tried to get control of himself. He knew he had a reputation, some of it deserved, some not, but when he was at work he strived for a professional demeanor. The last thing he wanted anyone to see was a rock hard dick tenting his pants. He especially didn't want Jake, who was waiting in his office this very moment, to see the evidence of his arousal. Donovan knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that his friend wouldn't take kindly to the physical response his woman had inspired. Gathering himself, he used electronic beeps of the elevator as a countdown, practicing a tried and true technique to control the baser urges of his body. The trick usually worked when he was mad, but even though he had thirteen chimes to guide him, the lift just landed before his cock settled to a less agitated state. "How many messages do I have?" he asked, smilingly placidly at his efficient male secretary, Brian. "Not too many. Though Mr. Stover would like a word when you get a free moment." Donovan barely resisted rolling his eyes. Nick Stover was a great defense lawyer, but the problems in his marriage were making him really chatty of late. "Shoot him a message and tell him we'll talk later." "No problem," Brian murmured, and Donovan thought he heard a chuckle. "Though I am inclined to let you know Messers Rogit and Ho would like to stop by so they can discuss their case." 203


Figures! Nathan Ho and Artie Rogit stood to lose millions if the class action against their web-based firm ever saw the light of day. Donovan had been successful in burying most of the spurious claims in paperwork, but the news report last night on CNN, and its rival network FOX, had stirred the public, and today his office had been flooded with a ton of emails. The bogus reports of ICU's phishing practices were patently untrue, but that didn't really matter when faced against perception. "Clear a time for them later in the afternoon, and tell them to stop panicking." Brian, unruffled by his commanding voice, nodded and tapped the eraser edge of his pencil against his large desktop calendar. "You don't have any free time until the evening. I can move your conference call with Harper-Dow to tomorrow morning, but you have a date with Veronica Tellon for nine at Bizarre's. You'll definitely be late for that." Donovan had completely forgotten about his date with Ronnie, no doubt that was the reason Brian had reminded him of it. "Phone her and reschedule. Matter of fact, tell her that I'll call her later, and send her some flowers ... or some jewelry." Thinking of the beautiful, intriguing woman he'd just met, Donovan really didn't want to be bothered with Veronica's petulant ways. The model, while stunning, no longer held any appeal, plus she was a royal pain in the ass. Donovan turned to trek toward his office again, feeling a little guilty for pawning Ronnie off on his secretary. "Take tomorrow off," he said in compensation. 204


"Thanks, though I was already thinking of doing that. The woman is a complete narcissist and bitch to boot." Laughing to himself, Donovan was eternally grateful he'd taken his brother's advice and gotten a male personal assistant, instead of a female. His work life was decidedly less stressful without the added estrogen in the air. "Just be sure to be back for the last minute negotiations of the Pryco merger." "I thought all of that was done?" "Knowing Webster Crouse it's probably just getting started." "Is that why Mr. Macmillan is here?" Reminded of Jake and the beautiful woman he claimed for his own, Donovan shook his head. "No, he's here for another reason, and it has absolutely nothing to do with Webster Crouse."

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Chapter 16 Ameril threw an arm over her eyes to block the glaring rays of sunlight pouring into the bedroom of Jake's beachfront Malibu home. She liked it here—what wasn't to like—but the large panel windows made her wonder why he didn't opt for shades instead of one-way glass. Raising up in bed, she loosened the kinks from her neck, wiped the sleep from her eyes, and looked over at her sleeping lover. He looked so peaceful laying there, his handsome face soft and boyish, his lips parted, and his eyelashes forming dark crescent circles against his tanned skin. A strangled sigh caught in her throat, and Ameril swallowed the sudden lump that had formed. Six weeks wasn't a lot of time to understand a person, yet since their time at the cabin had ended, a lot of things about Jake became clearer. Mainly it was just little things most people would take for granted, or wouldn't even notice. But Ameril always noticed the way his lips curved into an easy smile whenever he was relaxed. The gleam in his eyes whenever he was happy ... or when he was just looking at her. Every other night, she insisted on going home to her small, one bedroom apartment, but when she wasn't with Jake she missed him desperately. She missed the little things. It was crazy, but it was the truth. A tear rolled down her cheek, and Ameril was ashamed of herself. If she searched a million years, she'd never be able to 206


find another man like Jake Macmillan. Though, try as she might, the walls surrounding her heart wouldn't crack. Loving Jake required vulnerability beyond anything in her comprehension. To truly love him she'd have to trust him with all facets of her soul, and Ameril didn't know if she could do that. What little faith she'd had in others had been eroded by her years in foster care, and what was left afterwards had been obliterated by David Windham. It was completely unfathomable to her why Jake could, or should, love her, but he said the words enough, and proved them with this actions numerous times. Unable to withstand the torment of welling emotions, she bowed her head, tears leaking down her face. She cried for what could have been, and should have been, but mostly she cried for her and Jake. Their relationship limbo couldn't continue indefinitely, though he said he'd give her time. It wasn't fair to keep him stranded upon her lost answers, and no one knew that better than she did. Life was meant to be lived. Some other woman needed to make him happy. There was no part of him she could truly fulfill, and eventually the writing would be on the wall. His dominant nature cried out for more, and though the latent submissiveness inside her wanted more too, she couldn't give him the trust needed. Like a catch-22, she was stuck between the dual natures of her fears. At some point, they'd reach a finale, and Ameril wasn't sure what little was left of her could stand the fall out.

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Wiping away her moisture clinging to her face, she turned, expecting to find Jake still asleep. Instead his eyes were fastened on her. He looked sad, but when he tweaked her chin, smoothing away an absent tear, he said lightly, "You're not nervous about tonight are you?" Laughing, Ameril looked away, embarrassed to be caught crying. "No, I'm not nervous," she sniffed. "Good because we don't have to go." "That's not what you said yesterday." He gave her a light smile. "The merger's already happened. This dinner tonight is just a formality for the press." Ameril had no desire to attend the gala reception for the culmination of the Pryco merger, but she was a woman of her word. "No, I've already said I would, so I'm not going to back out now." "What's wrong then?" She smiled at him, hoping the torment in her eyes had vanished. "Pay me no mind. I'm just maudlin in the mornings. Plus, I'm up an hour earlier than I should be and I need my sleep. Someone likes to wear me out at night." Jake stared at her for another moment, his assessing gaze hooded. "Well, I think I may have something to brighten your morning. Stay here and close your eyes." Since her pupils were nearly dry, needing moisture and needing the space her closed eyes would afford, she shut them willingly. 208


The bed dipped and swayed as Jake removed his large frame, before shaking again as he resettled next to her. "Can I open my eyes now?" "No, keep them closed until I tell you." A light breeze passed across her face, and the crinkling sound of crisp paper rustling against plastic echoed. Frowning, she cocked her head to the side. "I hope all that noise isn't you unwrapping a gift. Unless of course it's a really large dildo," she amended. Jake's breathy laugh fanned across her cheek. "It could be," he murmured close to her ear. "Now, open your eyes." Ameril lifted first one eyelid then the other. Not sure what to expect, because Jake was the type of guy to give her a dildo, she was amazed by the waves of black taffeta silk flowing over the edges of the bed. The dark color contrasted against the pearly white sheets, and Ameril opened her eyes wider, staring at the fairy tale dress of her dreams. Unlike Alex, she'd never attended her prom. She'd been too ready to leave Oklahoma at that point, and the silly brouhahas during her teen years never figured as a priority in her life. Plus, the few dollars she'd managed to save from her part time jobs were much better spent buying clothes and other necessities her foster parents neglected. Once, a long time ago, during a drunken revelry, she'd mentioned to Alex the type of gown she would like to have worn had she gone. Strangely, like time had reversed and suddenly fastforwarded, the dress she imagined lay before her. Timeless and classic, the elegant one piece with the full skirt and Christine corseted, strapless top was just as Ameril 209


had described, though obviously more expensive and elaborate then she'd have ever been able to envision. As her fingers lightly grazed the baby soft material, the fabric rippled like a crisp breeze beneath her fingertips. "Oh my gawd," she breathed. "Did Alex tell you?" "Yes." She lifted her gaze, feeling as if her heart would burst from her chest. "You shouldn't have done this." Jake's eyes drifted down, and he pulled another gift from underneath his pillow. The small velvet box was too large to contain a ring, but it was just the perfect size for a necklace. Shaking her head, Ameril pushed a hand forward to reject the offering. "We can never change the past. There's no use in trying, Jake." "I know that, but we can lay inroads for the future," he whispered. "Open it." Settling the box on her knees, Jake waited, like he always did, for her to make a decision. It was then she realized that never once during their time together had he ever forced her into anything. Always ... always ... she'd been willing— whether she realized it at the time or not. The safety net of this belief gave her the courage to flip open the jewelry box. Ameril shut the lid just as quickly, startled by the gleaming, radiant diamonds inside. "I can't accept these," she said, referring to both the dress and the expensive jewelry. "Why?" "Because it's too..." "Expensive ... and you think I can't afford it?" "No, I know you can, but..." 210


"You don't like them?" "No, Jake, they-they're beautiful but..." she stammered. "But, you want something different?" "No, I don't. I just-just don't think I'm..." "You don't think you're what? Not worthy? Not good enough?" Dropping her head, chin to chest, Ameril sighed, and sadly handed the box back to him. "I'm not good enough, or worthy enough. I'm just damaged goods you'll never be happy with." Jake moved so fast, she didn't have a second to react. One moment he was lying beside her and the next he was braced on top of her, one of his strong, powerful fists grappling her hair. His pull edged toward painful. She didn't have a choice but to look up. "Don't say anything like that ever again. Ever. There is nothing—nothing—more important to me than you are, Ameril," Jake growled through clenched teeth. Yet within a second of the words passing from his lips, his bright brown eyes glistened with moisture, and his head fell to her breasts. Loosening the clutch on her hair, he smoothed the baby soft tendrils rimming her scalp. "I love you, Ameril. But I'm running out of tricks here. Tell me what I need to do?" She didn't have an answer for him. She'd probably never have an answer, and a helpless tear dropped onto his shoulder. ****

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"Ta da," Alex said, spraying one last bit of hairspray onto the elegant chignon she'd twisted Ameril's hair into. "What do you think?" Tilting her head from side to side, Ameril stared at her reflection in the mirror. "It's beautiful." "You can thank my mother. She is the absolute queen of the up-do, taught me how to do this before I could walk." "I'll be sure to give my gratitude," Ameril offered Alex smiled at her, and turned the swivel chair Ameril was sitting on so they were facing each other. "You're going to look so fantabulous in that dress, but I think you need a little more blush." Seconds later, makeup applied, her friend looked satisfied with her accomplishments. "There. You're done." "I really appreciate you helping me. This has turned out to be more of a production than I thought." "Duh, of course it is. You can't prepare for a formal event in an hour. I can't even believe you went to work today. Don't they give the interns a day off?" Alex laughed. "I've been there a little over month, Alex. I don't think I'm allowed to take a day off yet. But, wait a minute, when are you going to start getting ready?" Pulling the pins free from her long red hair, a mass of curls tumbled down her friend's back. "I did my do earlier, so all I have to do is put on some makeup and my dress. No sweat." Shaking her head, Ameril twirled a burgundy long lock around her finger. "I can't believe you're going to marry a billionaire and you're still doing your own hair." 212


A furtive look came over Alex's face, and she looked away guiltily. "Can I tell you a secret?" "No, because I'm going to blab to everyone, even people I don't know." Snorting, Ameril rapped her friend's arm with a gentle punch. "Of course you can tell me." Alex leaned forward, whispering, "Steve and I are already married. We just got the license in the mail yesterday." "But your wedding isn't for another six months." "We went to Vegas a couple of weeks ago." Shrugging, Alex picked up a light pink, kohl liner and started to ring the edges of her lips. "We didn't want to wait anymore, but you have to promise not to tell anyone, especially Jake. If their mother finds out she's going to flip. We're still doing the big ceremony, but this was for us, you know." Over the past few weeks, as Ameril became more involved with the details of Alex's wedding, she'd heard a lot about Gloria Macmillan. Though they had never met, it was obvious the matriarch of the Macmillan clan lived for planning big, sumptuous events. The looming nuptials of her first born son was shaping up to be a no holds barred, no expense spared, gathering that in and of itself could have rivaled a presidential inauguration. "So, you're just going to go along as if you guys aren't married, but by the time of your wedding," and Ameril quoted her fingers for emphasis, "you and Steve will already have been married for half a year." Alex smirked, before grabbing the large blusher sitting on the counter. "Life's imperfect." 213


"I'll say." And though Ameril didn't mean to, some of her own inner torment came through her voice. Peering at her in the mirror, Alex stopped swiping at her cheeks, her face dismayed. "I gave my word to stay out of what's going on between you and Jake, but I just can't help it, Ameril. That man out there loves you. Like seriously take a bullet for you, loves you. If you don't love him back then fine, but please don't tell me you're going to throw it all away just because you're scared." All day she'd been trying not to think of what had happened this morning. Caught in a perpetual state of impending tears and impending doom, she'd left Jake's luxurious beach front mansion determined not to think about anything except work and planning for tonight. When Alex had called, asking if she needed help getting ready, she'd accepted the offer, not only because she did need help, but because she needed—wanted—to see her friend. Inhaling a deep breath, Ameril stood from her chair, staring at the beautiful, black evening gown hanging from one of the many hooks in the large en suite bathroom. "Did he tell you what happened?" "No. He didn't have to," Alex replied heatedly. "He was standing at the window when I came in looking like his best friend had died. I didn't need a road map to figure it out." "It's not that I don't love him," she admitted, sighing. "I'm just not sure I can be in love with him. Everything is just so ... so complicated." "What you're thinking about loving Jake is more complicated than actually loving him, Ameril." Throwing her 214


hands up in frustration, Alex stalked across the room to stand directly in front of her. "Jeeze! You're the strongest person I've ever met, and I hate seeing you torn all apart over some bullshit another man did to you a long time ago. I didn't want to be the one to tell you, but what happened with that other dude has absolutely nothing to do with the man you're with now." "It has everything to do with him," she said, nearly screaming. "Why? Because he likes to tie you up?" Alex said, nearly screaming back. Dropping her chin, Ameril narrowed her eyes, furiously upset. "Don't assume you can understand what's going on between us. I don't lecture you about your life." "No, you don't, but I've seen you two in action, and I don't remember you resisting too hard." "Fuck you, Alex!" "Fuck you, Ameril!" Breathing harshly, they stared at each other like two boxers after the bell had rung. Yet, just as suddenly as it had started, all traces of anger vanished. Widening her eyes, Ameril started to laugh hysterically. Alex, who looked equally stunned, joined her after a second had passed. Shrilly raucous hoots and cackles filled the air, and they both nearly tumbled trying to catch their breath. "Oh my gawd! I thought you were going to hit me or something," Alex gasped between chuckles. "I thought it about," Ameril laughingly responded. 215


Again, another bout of uncontrollable giggles assailed them before they both wheezed loudly to catch their breath. Calm restored, Alex wiped a mirthful tear from her cheek, looking contrite. "I'm sorry. I just want you to be happy, but I guess I went a little over board with my concern though." "It's okay, and I'm sorry for cursing at you." "No, I deserved it. I didn't have a right say what I did." Alex nodded her head, her long hair bouncing with movement. "You know there are studies proving anger is cathartic, helps the mind release stress and other negative emotions. A lot of psychologists are starting to use anger therapy to deal with past traumas." Ameril rolled her eyes. "I sometimes forget you're studying that mumbo-jumbo stuff." "Well, its true isn't it? I bet you feel a whole lot better about going to the reception now." She had almost forgotten about the reception—almost. Biting her lip, she looked again at her evening gown. "Any advice for tonight?" "Yeah, whenever you get cornered, just smile and look stupid." "Smile and look stupid," she repeated, confused. Alex nodded, unzipping the garment bag protecting her dress. "You'll see what I mean. Now, enough of the chatter, we need to get your gown on, and I'll need your help pouring me into mine." Ameril gave a low wolf whistle, to the slinky red number her friend had just revealed. "Wow." "You like?" 216


"Yeah, and I think Steve will like too." "Oh yeah," Alex said, smiling. "I'm sure he'll be un-pouring me out of it later." They both chuckled, and Ameril, feeling a bit more confident, turned to face Alex before unveiling her own dress. "Smile and look stupid, huh?" she asked. Alex lifted her brows, smirking. "Trust me."

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Chapter 17 Ameril, who had nearly perfected the art of smiling and looking stupid while being bored to death by a group of ladies who couldn't seem to get past the latest designer and the latest fad diet to stay in the thinly made clothes, was momentarily startled by the sudden appearance of Marie Macmillan. "I see Alex has already given you the speech." Ameril had taken an immediate liking to Jake's sister as soon as they had met. She laughed and lifted the corner of her lips higher to return a bright grin. "Yeah, the archaic smile definitely works," she said, once they were out of earshot. Marie took a sip of champagne from her long fluted glass, her eyes wandering across the enormous banquet hall. "Believe it or not, some of them aren't so bad. It's just easy to get caught in the ennui." "Ennui?" Ameril queried, giving the beautiful, dark haired woman a doubtful look. "The ennui of being rich. When you have a lot of money, life doesn't present too many challenges or surprises anymore. It's easy to get bored." "Sounds like you're speaking from personal experience," she observed. Marie shrugged. "I have it better than most, but there are moments." 218


Ameril nodded, not sure what to say. She couldn't imagine being so wealthy life became nothing more than a set of days filled with the same useless bullshit. Never ending parties like this one would have had her pulling her hair out to get away. Yet she considered, looking around at all the exquisitely dressed ladies and gentlemen filling the elite, upscale country club, there was a sort of karmic justice to it all. She realized not everyone here was like the superficial ladies they had just left. Gloria and William Macmillan were quite down to earth, and very different from what Ameril had expected. Jake had introduced her to his father, mother and sister, and they'd given her a warm smile, and seemed genuinely interested in her life. The older couple they'd been standing next to, Muriel and Roger Dean, had also seemed nice. "Well, I guess life is what you make it, and the ole adage is true. Money can't buy you happiness," she said, shrugging. "Nor can it buy you love," Marie offered, her eyes falling to the lavish diamond choker around her neck. Briefly touching the sparkling stones, Ameril looked across the room to where Jake stood surrounded by a group of other well dressed men. Their eyes connected for a short moment and a wealth of emotion crackled through the air between them. Sighing, she glanced back at Marie, unable to hold his powerful stare any longer. "No, it can't buy you that either," she muttered. She wasn't sure how much Marie knew, but she hoped Jake's sister wouldn't push the issue. She didn't want to talk 219


about what was going on between them again. Not now ... not here. Marie must have understood her silent entreaty because she gestured with a flick of her wrist, slashing at the air. "I think I better go and save Alex, her smile is cracking and she's about to lose it." She grinned once more before walking across the crowded hall toward Alex, who with her face frozen and her eyes wide, looked ready to pass out. Laughing to herself, Ameril looked around at the crowded hall. She felt like a gopher that'd fallen down the wrong hole. The glitzy gloss surrounding her was making her head spin with a crazy sense of delusion. She'd been trying to shake off the feeling all night, but nothing had worked. She needed to get away, take a moment to herself. All night she'd been unnerved by Jake's grim demeanor. After she'd dressed, she had come from the bathroom, and he paid her a minute glance before walking away and heading toward the door. Ameril had bit her lip, and had it not been for Alex she would have run away. During the car ride here, he'd stayed still like a statue, his gaze intent while it stared at nothing in particular. She'd felt like an interloper in the limo, stuck between one person who barely seemed to tolerate her and the schmooze fest of Alex and Steve. Glimpsing a small alcove in the back corner of the country club, she walked away from the crowded hall. A fresh breeze assaulted her heated face and she moved toward it quickly, hoping she could find a pathway leading to the green vales of the eighteen-hole golf course. 220


This would be her last night with Jake. She couldn't take any more of this. It simply wasn't fair to him or herself to be on this strange circular path that led absolutely nowhere. She probably should have ended it long ago, about the time he'd cornered her in the parking lot of the Classy Lady. Or better yet, before she'd fallen under the seduction that long ago night in the private rooms. Another gust of wind pushed across her face, and Ameril moved toward the cooling breeze, needing the freshening air. Strangely, the stars in the sky were all sparkling brightly this evening, making the night beautiful regardless of the dismal, depressing view of her mind. That's how she felt about most things in her life—things around her had beauty, but she was ugly from the inside. She had been surprised that Alex had continued to seek her out when they'd first met. Though they had nothing in common, the red haired, naïve girl was eager for a friend, and as she revealed later she thought Ameril would be one of the best she would ever have. Foolish, Ameril thought. She was just too self absorbed into her own pity to be anyone's true friend. Just look how she'd almost turned on Alex tonight. Maybe the best thing for her to do would be to go back to her lonely world. Circumstance had made her too cold to be lovable, or be able to love anyone in return. "Ameril? I thought that was you." The haunting voice from every single nightmare she'd had for nearly ten years spoke clearly like the apparition had suddenly appeared from nowhere. 221


No, it couldn't be him! NO! She had to turn. She had to see, but when she did, Ameril wished she'd hadn't. Her mouth opened to speak but the sight of David Windham froze her vocal chords. All she could do was gasp, and stare at him, hoping he would disappear at any moment. "I wasn't sure when I saw you earlier, but you look exactly as I remember." He moved closer then, just a hairsbreadth from her body, and she stiffened. "Over the years I've thought a lot about you. I wondered what had happened to my little trainee." His voice swept over her like an artic wind, icy and cold. Staring at his face, thousands, millions of memories assailed her. From all appearances, David was still very handsome, but unlike the first time they'd met, she could clearly see the cruelness in his dark green eyes. She wanted to speak, but fear had grabbed hold of her heart with a tight, clenching fist. She tried to breathe, tried to gasp for air, but her lungs were stunned. "You can't imagine how surprised I was to see you here." He leaned forward, and the strong scent from his cologne, sickening with its musky aroma, passed through her nostrils and she nearly gagged, making her release a breath. "That's a pretty collar you're wearing. Whoever gave it to you must have done a better job of breaking you in than I did," he sneered. He reached toward her. 222


Though a part of her wanted to flinch back, afraid he'd hurt her, she froze in pure shock. His fingers trailed along her jaw, turning her face toward the light coming from the moon like he was inspecting a cow for the slaughter. Every single nerve ending in her body rebelled against having David Windham so close, but she felt spineless, incapable of stopping him from taking control of her body. When his fingers smoothed along the stones of her necklaces, a vivid Technicolor image of Jake roared into her mind. She saw Jake clearly, laughing with her, talking with her, loving her. Her nostrils flared. She looked at David with the new light of anger burning through her chest. She no longer saw the man who had terrorized, haunted, her every sleep and waking shadows. She only saw a pathetic man who got his kicks from hurting people he thought weak. She had been ready to throw the love Jake felt for her, and the love she felt for him, away because of this sick bastard in front of her. Anger clenched her fist, and before Ameril knew what was happening she hauled back and hit David Windham with everything she was worth. Her right hand immediately hurt from the contact, but she didn't stop. "Bastard," she yelled. "I nearly let you destroy my life." He tried to grab her, but Ameril, strengthened by the rioting emotions within her, ducked his outstretched arms. She hit him again and again and again, until David finally fell to the ground, his arm raised to protect his face. 223


"Ameril, what is going on?" Jake's voice, though edged with tension, calmed her, and she suddenly realized there was a large crowd gathered around her. Wide, startled eyes peered at her, and she was sure they thought she'd lost her mind. But for the first time in years Ameril felt completely sure of her path. Breathing in short sporadic gasps, she looked at everyone before focusing her eyes back on David, who was staring at her, and this time, his eyes were fearful. "You fuckin' bastard. I can't believe I was ever afraid of you. You're nothing but garbage, and I hope someday you finally get what's coming to you." She turned around, her loose hair tumbling free from the chignon, and stared at Jake. "I'm so sorry. I love you more than life itself, and if you will still have me then I want to be yours ... forever." Jake took a deep breath, his chest rising slowly and then falling. "I will always want you, Ameril. Nothing is ever going to change that." Her heart started to slow and she took the final two steps separating them to wrap her arms around him. Webster Crouse burst through the crowed, his ruddy face more red than usual. "Jake! What in the world is going on? Why is your girlfriend attacking one of my employees?" "Mr. Crouse, I think you should really re-think your hiring practices. This merger isn't so far along it can't be reversed," Jake's father answered smoothly, his words uttered in a pure business voice that brooked no argument. 224


Startled, Ameril turned to stare at him. He looked at her briefly, then winked playfully before giving another cold hard stare to Webster Crouse. "Now, I think it's time we left these two alone," William Macmillan said, gesturing with his arms to disperse the crowed. Jake released Ameril momentarily to step forward, his eyes latched onto David. "My revenge will be a lot worse than hers will ever be if I ever see you again." He transferred his heated look to Webster, and the stocky man nodded. David began to bluster, but stopped as soon as Webster grabbed his arm to help him from the floor. "Shut up, and get to your feet. I'll deal with you later." Now that the figurative fireworks of the evening were over, everyone departed, leaving Ameril and Jake alone. "I've embarrassed you and your family," she whispered. Jake smiled. "It would take a lot more than that to embarrass my family." She started to protest, but Jake laid a finger against her lips, silencing her. "Don't say anything more about it. I'm just so proud of you." "Why?" "Because you faced up to your demons, and you conquered them. That takes a tremendous amount of bravery." "I don't think I was very brave," she murmured. "Just mad as hell. Seeing him again made me realize how stupid I've been." 225


"I won't argue with you there, but sometimes ... things of the past have to be buried before the future can blossom." Ameril shook her head. "You're a poet now." "You make me very poetic." Sighing, Ameril trailed her fingers across Jake's jaw. "I realize now that you are nothing like him, and I'm sorry for ever thinking you were. Now, after seeing him again, I don't think it was necessarily the fear that you would hurt me, but the power I'd be giving to you. I didn't trust you, Jake, but I do now. I know you would never hurt me." A fire lit his shadowed brown eyes and he stared at her. "Never," he whispered. Smiling, Ameril finally released the words that had been pounding inside her since the moment she'd met Jake. "I love you." He nodded, and his shoulders relaxed. "Good, cause I've been in love with you for a really long time now."

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Epilogue "You know you need to stop giving me gifts. Just because I'm accepting them now isn't an open call for the giving season." Jake smiled, smoothing a lock of Ameril's hair away from her face. She looked so beautiful lying there against the pillows. Rays of light streamed into his bedroom window nearly turning her long tresses to a golden hue. "This isn't a gift for you. It's a gift for us," he corrected. She frowned, looking down at the beautifully wrapped package. "How can it be a gift for us when you already know what it is?" He raised an eyebrow at her smart remark, and she laughed. "Okay, whatever you say." The thin, glossy paper gave away easily from the box, and Ameril's eyes brightened at the contents inside before opening it. She fingered the nylon ends of the finely tooled horse flogger, smiling "Awww ... For me." The End

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About the Author: Karen Monroe sails all over the world in the United States Navy. In her travels, she's had the pleasure of encountering some very sexy men of different cultures and appetites. Her stories are born from fifty percent experience (she calls it research) and fifty percent vivid erotic fantasy. Karen's love for romance novels started in the sixth grade, when a far-sighted librarian overlooked a Harlequin Temptation she had mistakenly slipped into her check out stack. After that fateful day, her writing lot in life was sealed. A stint at erotic dancing helped mold her perception of its contribution to today's lifestyle. The experience and understanding of that growing sub-culture provides Karen with the basis of some of her best stories. In addition to writing and sailing the seven seas, Karen enjoys exotic cuisines, window shopping (she's in the Navy, give her a break!) sightseeing, learning new languages, and, most important, meeting guys. She holds a Bachelor's degree in Political Science from the University of California at Los Angeles and is currently working on obtaining a Masters in English. When not out boating, Karen calls San Diego home, where she keeps a stash of one dollar bills for Ladies Night Out.

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