Model Fantasy by Abby Gordon
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental. Model Fantasy COPYRIGHT 2011 by Abby Gordon All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. Contact Information:
[email protected] Cover Art by Angela Anderson The Wild Rose Press PO Box 708 Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708 Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com Publishing History First Scarlet Rose Edition, January 2011 Published in the United States of America The author of this work of fiction acknowledges the following trademarks: Lexus: Toyota Motor Sales, Inc. Chanel: Chanel, Inc. Lufthansa: Deutsche Lufthansa AG Mercedes: Damler AG
Dedication Mom and Dad - thank you for roots to grow and wings to fly, and showing how real love stories never end.
PRAISE FOR AUTHOR
Abby Gordon AND HER BOOKS “I was enthralled with this story from the very beginning… Abby Gordon writes a wonderful and sensual story that should not be missed.” ~Reviewed by Gabrielle http://goteroticromance.blogspot.com/2010/04/beck-and-call-byabby-gordon.html?zx=a715334048608b79
“You get an emotional journey that merges with unexpected twists and turns. The result is something that captures your attention and entertains throughout. A definite must for the TBR list, especially for fans of the BDSM genre. Be sure not to miss Beck and Call.” ~Reviewed by Fern http://whippedcream2.blogspot.com/2010/03/beck-and-call-byabby-gordon.html?zx=1b79a2c5c4eda0f2
“Beck and Call is a sizzling hot romance with an edgy BDSM theme… I thoroughly enjoyed “Beck and Call” by Abby Gordon and look forward to her next masterpiece.” ~Reviewed by Delenn http://www.nightowlromance.com/nor/Reviews/Delenn-reviewsBeck-And-Call-by-Abby-Gordon.aspx
Chapter One Raising his glass, Grant Franklin sipped his water and nodded to a business associate at a nearby table. Everywhere he looked at the high-end, damn-near-impossible-to-get-a-table restaurant were people who came to see and be seen. Elegant furniture, classical music, polished silver, linens pressed to perfection, and fresh flowers on every table. It was the perfect setting for those who wanted their business and social peers to consider them just like everyone else. People like those at his table. “Damned near drove off the road into the mailbox,” Ben Hancock was saying. “Thank God I was going slow. The bump as we hit the curb gave me enough time to straighten out.” “You mean,” Grant’s cousin Bronson laughed. “Thank God there was no one on the sidewalk at two in the morning.” “You didn’t tell him where he was headed?” Ben’s older cousin Brian frowned. “I didn’t have a clue where we were going. I was too damn busy looking at the damn billboard!” The men all laughed. “And she wasn’t a brunette? Bron, I’m impressed.” Grant grinned, leaning back in his chair. “God, what a woman.” Ben shook his head, picking up his glass. With impassive faces, two waiters smoothly cleared their soup bowls and set their entrees before them. Keith MacLauren nodded. “I heard that it’s already in the top ten downloads of all time,” he offered his expert opinion, having an international 1
Abby Gordon
innovative software company. “It nearly crashed the servers in Japan.” “No woman’s that beautiful.” Grant finally shook his head. “You have to be exaggerating.” “Actually,” Brian spoke up in his heavy Boston Brahmin accent. “They’re not too far off the mark.” He reached down and lifted the old-fashioned leather briefcase he used. Flipping it open, he pulled out a heavy business journal and handed it to Grant. “Open and drool at your own risk.” Giving the younger man a sardonic, yeah-right look, Grant lifted the front cover, blinked and promptly turned the magazine to get the full effect. Slender, blonde, and a come-get-me-if-you-thinkyou’re-man-enough expression on the most perfect face he’d ever seen, with roses strategically placed on her breasts and the juncture of her thighs. “And God created woman,” he breathed. “I’ll take one, please.” “I saw her first,” Ben objected with a laugh. “What’s her name?” Grant wondered. “Francine,” Keith told him. “Lincoln, but I think she’ll only need to use her first name from now on. The Journal’s the only magazine with a two-page spread of the advertisement and…” “Ad? Who gives a fuck what she’s selling?” Bron grinned. “This is how to get a hard-on,” murmured Grant as he felt the beginnings of one stir in his slacks. “Can you imagine having her in your bed? You’d never leave. Never get any work done.” “Just your bed?” Boone queried in his low rasping voice. “Good point.” Grant nodded with a slight smile. “Having her in your bed might be an afterthought.” Those at the table chuckled. They were all members of an exclusive, secretive club that had been founded over fifty years earlier for those with 2
Model Fantasy
certain sexual tendencies. While the Club catered to a variety of tastes from the mild to the extreme, the men gathered leaned toward sexual domination. Grant had been sponsored by a maternal uncle and, in turn, had sponsored the others dining with him. All highly successful in their professional lives, they helped each other maintain the façade of normalcy with public appearances, including their weekly lunches. As the conversation swirled about him, Grant sipped his water and studied the model. He could just imagine her in his penthouse playroom. That slender body draped over a spanking bench as she waited for whatever discipline he’d decided on. Or secured to the St. Andrew’s cross, with the cascade of gold hair framing her face as he teased her with a soft leather crop. Or slung in his newest addition—a swing that left her pussy, ass, and mouth available, depending on how he wanted to fuck her. “Back to earth, Grant,” Bronson murmured. “Having her would garner a helluva lot more attention than you like.” Grant’s body stiffened at his cousin’s words and he gave him a hard look with blue eyes that had been compared to the Titanic’s iceberg. His cousin knew better than to refer to the hell Grant had been through five years earlier. A former girlfriend had created a scandal by claiming she was pregnant with Grant’s child. The paparazzi had surrounded the entire Franklin family like piranha for weeks. Their younger cousin Heather was just now emerging from the shell she’d retreated into. Bronson had turned the event into a reason to make stalkers and paparazzi cases his priority and Grant had withdrawn from society completely. These lunches were practically the only time he went anywhere besides the Club. “Yeah, it would.” He slowly nodded. He closed 3
Abby Gordon
the magazine. “She probably wouldn’t be much anyway.” “Hey, Brody finally decided to show up.” Ben smiled, seeing the last of their group weaving his way through the tables. Collapsing into his chair between Grant and Brian, Brody reached for the drink they’d had waiting for him. “Mondays should be outlawed,” he growled. “Let me show you something to cheer you up,” Grant suggested, starting to open the magazine. “Seen it, not interested.” Brody shook his head. “What’s your problem?” Brian wondered. “Rose moved out.” “So? She’s eighteen now.” Bronson frowned. “It’s only natural that your sister would want to move out on her own.” “She moved in with Lily,” elaborated Brody, finishing the drink and raising the glass to signal for another. “One of her trustees and a secondary guardian.” Bronson nodded. The lawyer of the group, he shrugged. “At least you know she’ll be well supervised.” “Not hardly,” snarled Brody. “Lily’s pregnant and says it’s mine.” None of the men moved. Grant’s eyes skimmed over the stunned expressions at the table. Pulling from his memory, Grant tried to recall Lily’s face and could only picture her with her arms around Rose at the funerals for Brody’s parents. “I don’t even remember seeing you with her in public,” Grant said slowly. “That’s who you’ve been with at the Club,” Ben whispered, dark eyes widening in shock. “Your father’s financial protégée? Shit, Brody!” “It’s not mine,” stated Brody firmly. “I’ve been told by someone I trust implicitly that she hooked up 4
Model Fantasy
with someone in Tahoe when she went there…” Grant held up a hand and Brody fell silent. He took a deep breath and chose his words carefully. God knew he’d been innocent against Sheila’s accusations, but if Brody had actually taken Lily to the Club and been seen with her by Ben and probably others, then there was a chance she was telling the truth. Grant knew better than to automatically paint her in the same light as Sheila. “Brody, let me get this straight. She went to Tahoe to take care of your sister after your parents were killed in a helicopter crash, and you’re saying she fucked someone and is trying to pass the baby off as yours. I get that right?” “In a nutshell, yeah.” Brody nodded. “Have you lost your fucking mind?” Brian asked him, his shock as obvious as everyone else’s. “How can you be so damned sure it’s not yours?” “I just know, all right?” insisted the man as a second drink was placed before him. “Better bring another now,” he told the waiter. “Of course, sir,” came the quiet murmur. “I know I’m not the father,” Brody whispered. Grant could see the anguish in his eyes. “Yeah, Ben, I took her to the Club. We knew we had to keep it quiet, but…” He downed the drink. “I sure as hell never expected her to do this. And for Rose to take her side.” He shuddered, but Grant couldn’t be sure if it was from the drink hitting his stomach or the emotional pain. “I’m not sure which hurts more. My sister, for crying out loud!” “Shh,” Grant warned him, glancing around as a few heads turned. “I haven’t heard about any of this, so I’m assuming Lily’s keeping it quiet.” “For now,” Brody replied, mouth twisting. “Until she realizes that having Rose will cost both of them.” “What do you mean?” “I just talked to the other trustees. We’re 5
Abby Gordon
reducing Rose’s allowance by half.” “I sure hope your source is right,” observed Bronson. “Because if Lily sues for a paternity test and it’s proven that you are the father, then both Rose and Lily will have your ass.” “It’s not mine,” Brody said quietly. Grant could hear the pain and conviction in his voice. “All right.” Grant shook his head at Brian who had opened his mouth. Ben looked like he was also in shock. The Hancocks were a tight family who put each other first, and he could see how upset the three were with the situation. Brian and Ben seemed pissed on Brody’s behalf, but Grant was surprised to see Boone glaring at Brody. “We get that, Bro. What next?” “Next?” “What are you going to do now?” “Get drunk,” Brody replied with a sigh, apparently already feeling the alcohol. “Sounds like a good idea.” Ben nodded. “There are times in life when getting stinking drunk is the only logical action. I think this might be one for Brody.” His gaze swept the table. “I don’t have anything planned so I’ll stick with him.” The other men nodded. Lunch continued, a bit more solemn as everyone kept an eye on Brody. Leaving the restaurant, Grant, Keith and Brian walked the four blocks to the building Keith had inherited from a maternal great-aunt. MacLauren Computing occupied three floors from the thirtieth down, while Grant’s executive headquarters for Franklin Enterprises had the two below. Below were other offices, including Bronson’s legal suite. Above the business section were elaborate apartments and penthouses. The New York contingent of their lunch party lived there. Brian lived in Boston, while Boone preferred his cabin in the Connecticut woods. 6
Model Fantasy
“Good afternoon, sirs,” the doorman greeted them, stepping aside as he opened the door. “Hello, David,” Keith returned. “Anything new happening?” “Mr. Henderson just arrived with Mr. Ashby and Miss Traydon.” “Excellent,” nodded Keith as they entered the building. “Henderson’s been in California for a month.” “Expanding again?” Grant wondered. “Lots of opportunities out there,” the younger man told him. “I’m surprised you’re not out there already.” “Don’t give him any ideas,” Brian warned him. “I’m not sure how he keeps track of everything as it is.” “Delegation, my dear boys,” Grant replied with exaggerated pomposity, placing his hand on his chest. “Delegation, a firm priority list, and regular visits to the Club to relieve stress.” “I’m not at the point where I’m so big that I need to delegate,” Keith smiled. “Serena, hold the elevator!” he called to a slender blonde ahead of them. Her head swiveled and Grant saw the startled recognition in her eyes. “Speaking of stress relief,” Brian murmured as the woman stepped in and reached out to hold the doors open. “Who is she?” “Serena Traydon,” Keith replied as they joined her. Two other men were already inside. “Serena, Grant Franklin and Brian Hancock. Tom Ashby and Jake Henderson.” There were greetings all around and the conversation turned to business. Grant glanced at the young woman who had retreated to a back corner. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, wearing a pale green shirt-dress that skimmed her 7
Abby Gordon
curves. Quietly, she tracked the discussion, eyes moving from one man to the other. Those sea-green eyes though lingered on Keith. Grant smothered a smile. If she had any idea what Keith preferred sexually, she’d be screaming to get out of the elevator. That thought reminded him of the model. Would a woman who posed like that be interested in sexual submission? He doubted it. That would really make her too perfect.
8
Model Fantasy
Chapter Two Four years later Francine shivered outside JFK terminal and hailed a cab. Hesitating only a heartbeat, she gave the driver Kevin’s address. It wasn’t too late, she smiled, relaxing in the seat. She could surprise him, they could make up, and everything would be all right. Still imagining Kevin’s surprise and delight, she misunderstood the startled look by the doorman at Kevin’s building. Of course he was surprised. She wasn’t supposed to be back from Fiji for another week. “Hello, Thomas,” she greeted the elevator operator, stepping into the car. “Mr. MacLauren’s floor, please.” Pulling her wheeled suitcase, she exited the elevator and pulled the key out. Inside the door, she left her suitcase and slipped off her shoes and coat. From the direction of the bedrooms, she could see a light and dimly heard music and voices. Puzzled, she moved silently down the hall and peered through the half-open door. She stared in disbelief. Kevin, her fiancé, was on top of a woman. Fucking her. And not just any woman. Strawberry blonde hair streamed across the snowy white pillowcase. Francine’s hand covered her mouth. Delilah. Kevin’s hips slammed back down and the up-and-coming model cried out. One more up and down and Kevin’s shout jolted Francine out of her stunned stupor. Unable to breathe, she backed away and shuddered. Impossible. Inconceivable. She had to 9
Abby Gordon
have imagined it. She took a step back toward the door and heard his voice. “God, you’re good! Better than that Ice Queen I’ve been trying to thaw.” He snorted. “It’s a thankless task, but the publicity of dating Francine has been worth it.” Unable to bear anymore, Francine whirled and rushed back down the hallway. Snatching up her shoes and coat, she grabbed the handle of her suitcase and fled the apartment. In the elevator, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. Only now did she realize tears were sliding down her cheeks. “You all right, miss?” the operator asked, his finger hesitating over the button to close the door. She was in public. Appearances had to be maintained. Taking a deep breath, she wiped at her face and looked at him. “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you, Thomas.” Seeing knowing expression in his eyes she felt her pride shatter around her. “Obviously, I will not be coming by anymore to see Mr. MacLauren.” He nodded. She saw the wariness in his eyes, as if he expected hysterics. She would not give anyone, especially Kevin, that satisfaction. “I’ll need a taxi,” she told him. “Would you call down and ask to have one waiting?” “Yes, miss,” he replied, picking up the elevator phone. On automatic pilot, she put on her shoes and coat. By the time they reached the ground floor, the only sign of her tears were faint tracks on her high cheekbones. The doorman had a cab waiting for her. “Where to, miss?” Francine hesitated. She couldn’t bear the thought of going to her apartment. There were pictures of Kevin everywhere and memories… She shook her head. 10
Model Fantasy
“The Franklin Hotel.” There were advantages, she sighed, to being recognized. The cab driver was beaming, eager to take her picture and asked for an autograph on the full page ad in a magazine he had in the front seat. Smiling, despite her heartache, Francine obliged him, tipping generously. Going inside, she went to the front desk. “Yes?” the clerk asked, staring in disbelief. “I don’t have a reservation, but would like a room. A suite if one is available.” “Yes, ma’am,” the young woman replied, typing away. Half an hour later, after a hot shower had eased the tension in her muscles, she curled up on the bed and picked up the phone. “Felicity?” she whispered. “I…” The sobs came as she poured out everything to her older sister. “Francine, you remember what I told you after Eddie?” “Yes,” hiccupped Francine. “Well, this case calls for something more drastic.” “Like what?” “Several stiff drinks. Now, I want you to go down to the bar, tell the bartender you want four or five drinks and then he is to have someone make sure you get back to your room safely.” “Felicity, I can’t do that! I don’t…” “I know, sweetie, but this occasion demands it. You’ll be fine. I know it hurts like hell right now, and I wish I was there...” she growled. “Hell, I wish I had that bastard alone for five minutes to teach him some manners. Doing that to my baby sister... Asshole!” “I wish you were here, too.” Francine sighed. “Why can’t I find someone like Tom? You sure he 11
Abby Gordon
doesn’t have a long-lost brother somewhere?” “You don’t need Mr. Right, sweetie. Right now, you need Mr. Stud to burn up the sheets and blow your mind.” “But Kevin said…” “No! That man is a waste of oxygen, understand me?” Felicity exhaled in a whoosh. “Go down to the bar, get your drinks and when you get back in your room, dream of an incredibly hot guy who makes your every fantasy come true.” “Okay,” sniffed Francine. She would take Felicity’s advice. She didn’t want to think. She didn’t want to feel. She just wanted… Well, she didn’t know what she wanted, but she knew who she didn’t want. Splashing water on her face, she repaired her make-up and smiled at her reflection. She knew she didn’t want anyone like Kevin. Her fantasy man would be absolutely incredible in every way—attractive, physically strong, accomplished in life, smart, and the most fantastic lover a woman could imagine. He would sweep her off her feet and make sure she was sexually satisfied. Dressed simply in trousers and a light silk blouse, Francine headed down to the hotel’s only open bar. Off the lobby, the dark-paneled room had booths around the walls and tables placed far enough apart that an inebriated patron wouldn’t have too much trouble walking through them. The widescreen TV at the end of the bar showed commentators discussing the first half of the basketball game. Sitting on a stool near the middle, she reminded herself of Felicity’s directives as the black-vested bartender came toward her. The man didn’t seem surprised at her requests and put a tall frosted glass in front of her. Idly, she sipped it while watching the Knicks’ game. A couple drinks later, as she debated ordering 12
Model Fantasy
from the appetizer menu, two men in exquisitely cut suits came in, black cashmere coats over their arms. One held a cell phone to his ear. They came toward where she sat. Great. The last thing she wanted to deal with was men. Even if they were incredibly good-looking. They took the stools a few feet away from her. In front of the bartender. She smiled to herself and took a large swallow. Could she be more caught up in herself? The bartender was there, so of course they would go there. Focus on what Felicity told you to do, she reminded herself, staring at the neon pink parasol in her drink. That’s what you’re doing here. “Mr. Franklin,” the bartender greeted with a smile. “Mr. Hancock. What can I get you tonight?” Francine kept them in her peripheral vision as their whiskey was put in front of them. Sex fantasies, Felicity had said. She didn’t even know where to start on that one. She picked up the straw and twirled it between her thumb and forefinger. “Fantasies,” she whispered, tapping the straw against the rim of the glass. “What kind of fantasies? What would I like?” “Problem?” She looked over and saw that the man called Franklin was still on his cell phone. Hancock, with dark eyes and dark hair cut short, was studying her. “Just following orders,” she told him. The effects of the alcohol had her focusing on her words. “It’s very important to follow Felicity’s directions to the letter.” “I know all about following orders,” he replied. “Maybe we can help. What were her directions?” “Four or five good stiff drinks, tell the bartender to make sure someone got me safely back to my room, and then dream about every fantasy coming true.” “What kind of fantasy?” 13
Abby Gordon
Hancock gestured at Franklin and the two moved to flank her. Francine sipped on the frothy pink drink and studied the man on her right. He was handsome but she didn’t feel anything. And when he frowned, she realized she had said it aloud. The other man laughed and spoke into his phone. “Ben’s not quite the lady-killer after all, Grant. He just got shot down at the hotel bar by Francine Lincoln.” “Very funny, smart-ass,” Ben shook his head. “How about Bron?” She looked at the man on her left. His dark blond hair was a bit longer and light blue eyes promised all sorts of adventures. But she didn’t feel anything. With a sigh, she took a big swallow. “I guess Kevin was right. I am an Ice Queen.” She raised her glass. “All hail, Francine the Ice Queen.” As she finished her drink, Ben shook his head. “Maybe he didn’t know how to fulfill your fantasies. Maybe the problem was him. Not you.” She cocked her head to one side and considered that. Ben gestured to the bartender for another round. “You think so?” she whispered. “What are your wildest fantasies?” “Oh, they’re too wild.” She giggled. “I mean, I hardly dare even think about them.” “I doubt you could shock us,” Ben told her. “Unless you’re talking orgies to rival Rome at its worst.” Francine’s eyes widened slightly and she blushed. “No, nothing that wild. At least, I…” “How many men?” “Just one,” she whispered as the bartender put another drink before her. “What does he do first?” “Well, he…” Francine chattered on, describing in 14
Model Fantasy
detail her deepest darkest desires to two strangers. “Grant,” Bron hissed into the phone. “You’re not going to believe this. Keep quiet while I put my cell on speaker so you can hear.” In the middle of getting the security report, Grant scowled at the speaker phone on his study desk. He’d been distracted enough when Bronson had mentioned Francine Lincoln being in the bar. And now Bron was going to put her on speaker? Maybe she had a horrible speaking voice and that would help him deal with the sexual fantasies that were coming fast and furious. Ah, hell! He opened a drawer and pulled out the magazine, flipping out the double-sized layout of her body sprinkled with rose petals. He could feel his body reacting to the sight. “You were saying, Francine?” Bronson said. “Finish your drink and tell us more about your fantasies.” There was a pause and he heard a thud, as if someone had put a glass down. “Um… Oh, what the hell.” She giggled. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be spanked. After I’ve done something I shouldn’t, of course. Like the man told me not to touch him somewhere and I did anyway, or had an orgasm when he wanted me to wait. I read about that once,” she sighed. “I’ve never done it though.” Grant clenched his jaw. Her voice was clear and distinct. It would have been too much to ask for her to have a shrill, harsh voice. “Is that all you would want done?” He heard Ben’s low words ordering another round. “I read something once,” came the husky voice. “Oh, thank you, but this will have to be my last drink. What was I saying?” “You read something?” Bronson prompted. 15
Abby Gordon
“Oh, yes,” she whispered, hiccupping gently. “In the story, the woman was tied to a bench, and the man put things in her pussy and ass and spanked her until she had an orgasm. Then he made her take his cock in her mouth.” “Oh, I like that one,” Ben groaned. “And a friend told me that the most incredible orgasm she ever had was when her lover took her from behind, in the ass,” Francine whispered. “Kevin did that the first time. I thought I’d hurt forever, but when Jasmine told me about her experience I wondered if it could really be good.” Grant felt his cock harden at her words. He took a deep breath and regained control of himself. Oh, yeah! He could definitely make those fantasies come true. He glanced down at the four year old ad. Did he dare? The sexiest woman in the world was describing sexually explicit scenes that he knew how to make real. Why the hell was he even hesitating? As one hand traced the woman’s delicate features on the glossy page, the other reached for the speaker phone. Even though he was in his own penthouse, he picked up the receiver. “Bronson, pick up.” “Yeah?” “Give her a Club card. Tell her if she’s serious about what she just said then another card will be delivered with directions. And that every fantasy she’s had will come true.” “You serious?” “Totally.” With the ease from many years training, Grant slipped into what he called his ‘master frame of mind.’ He was her dominant and he was responsible for her. Right now, she was vulnerable. If anyone besides Bron and Ben got to her, she could get hurt. “You and Ben make sure she gets safely back to her room. It sounds like she’s had more than she’s used to.” 16
Model Fantasy
“Can do.” “And, Bron?” “Yeah?” “Thanks, man.” “Happy birthday, old man.” Grant rolled his eyes as he hung up. His birthday wasn’t for another three months, but Bronson never passed up a chance to remind him of who was the oldest member of their group. The next morning, Francine sat up, trying to sort out what had happened. She remembered going to the bar and watching the game. There had been two men, but after that her memory was fuzzy. What the hell had they talked about? She had an image of them bringing her to her room, but a quick glance around her told her that she was alone. With a sigh, she decided Kevin had been right. She really must be an ice queen in bed. She saw the glass of water with two small white tablets. Well, at least when she decided to get drunk she ran into chivalrous men. She hadn’t found Mr. Stud as Felicity had told her to, but her dreams had definitely been erotic. A low husky voice had told her to do things, but what? She frowned and felt the slight pounding in her head. Reaching out, she took the tablets and drank the water. Pulling on her robe, she started the coffeemaker in the suite’s living room and stared out at the skyline. What was she going to do now? Not very many people knew that Kevin had actually proposed, so she didn’t necessarily have to deal with that humiliation, but she did have to deal with the fact that another model, younger and as sought after, had wasted no time in going after him. Delilah! Oh, the bitch’s action suited her name. The knock on the door startled her. Frowning, she went across the room. 17
Abby Gordon
“Who is it?” “Special delivery for Francine Lincoln.” Peering through the peephole, she could see only a man in a dark suit holding a white shoebox-size container with a red bow. Nibbling on her bottom lip, she opened the door slightly. “Who is it from?” “I was told you would be expecting it,” he told her. “I am to wait for further directions.” “Directions? Expecting it?” She shook her head and gave him a rueful smile. “I’m sorry. I haven’t had my coffee yet.” She opened the door further and took the box. Her eyes fell on the card tucked in the ribbon. The memory of something similar being put in her hand came back to her. Who? The other man had called him Bronson. Bronson had put something in her hand and told her another would be delivered. “Just a moment.” “Of course, ma’am.” He nodded with a faint smile. Closing the door, she read the elegant black letters on the ivory card. To obey is to submit. To submit is to surrender. To surrender is to find ultimate pleasure. To find ultimate pleasure is the aspiration of all and the treasure of few. “Oh, my God,” she breathed. Embossed on the lower left corner was a set of handcuffs, with slightly wider cuffs. “This can’t be happening. This can’t be real!” She rushed into the bedroom and froze at the foot of the bed. Pale and gleaming in the shadows, another card lay on the nightstand. Slowly she walked over and picked it up. The same words. Her legs grew weak and she sat on the bed. She 18
Model Fantasy
remembered something else in Bronson’s hand. A cell phone. A cell phone he had placed on the bar as she’d told two strange men her sexual fantasies. Bronson, pick up. A deep husky voice. A voice that had been strong, decisive. She closed her eyes. She had dreamt of that voice! In her dreams, that voice had commanded her to take her clothes off and wait for him in bed. To kneel at his feet. And whispered in her ear that she’d been a very bad girl and he was going to spank her. “This is what happens when your reading goes beyond what your mother would approve,” she whispered. “When you wonder what else is out there.” She stared at the box. “I should shove this box and both cards back at the delivery man and tell him to…” She closed her eyes. “I’ll only ever get this one chance. Do I dare take it? See what it’s like to have a man do whatever he wants with me? What if the guy last night was right? What if it was Kevin and not me? Do I want to be more than the Ice Queen?” Fingers trembling, she opened the box. On top of the tissue was another card. Very good, my dear. If you truly want to find pleasure, then dial speed one on this phone. I will tell you what to do to prepare for surrendering to me. For twenty-four hours, I will make every fantasy you’ve ever had come true. Even those you haven’t imagined. Francine lifted the tissue and took the phone. Hitting the buttons, she stared at the watercolor art on the wall. Was she insane? She had no idea who this man was! “Francine,” came the same deep voice. “Who are you?” “The man to make your fantasies come true.” 19
Abby Gordon
“I mean, what is your name?” “No names. This is for just twenty-four hours. No strings. No emotions. Just pure sex.” Francine nibbled her bottom lip. He wouldn’t give her his name? “I don’t know you.” “That’s the way I want it.” “This is crazy,” she said. “I’d have to be insane to even consider this. I mean…” “I heard what you said last night at the bar. I don’t believe you’re cold or anything else that asshole said. Come to me, Francine. Submit to me. Surrender yourself and I will pleasure your body.” “You make it sound so easy.” “It is easy.” Francine worried her bottom lip again. The temptation was great. “What will happen?” “You’ll be brought to a secure place. No paparazzi will be able to find you. You will be mine for twenty-four hours. After that, you will be brought back to your hotel room.” Closing her eyes, Francine took a deep breath. And realized she was trembling. In need. With desire. Glancing down, the hard points of her nipples pushed against the silk robe. She reached inside and covered her breast. The small mound swelled in her hand, wanting the rough palm of a man. He was arousing her with his voice! “Think about it, Francine,” his voice told her. “You at my mercy, my sexual mercy, for twenty-four hours. Your body mine in every way. Imagine it— you’re bound, blindfolded, and gagged, waiting for me to come to you. Now, touch yourself. Put a finger inside your pussy.” At his quiet command, she put her hand over her bare mound and dipped a finger inside. “Are you wet?” “Yes,” she whispered. How could he get her so 20
Model Fantasy
wet by talking to her over the phone? “I don’t understand.” “From what you said last night, I gathered that you’ve never been spanked or submitted to a man in anyway. Is that correct?” “Yes.” “Yes, master,” he corrected firmly. “From now on, you will address me as ‘master’ or ‘sir’. You will not know my name or…” “You’re so sure I won’t recognize you or describe you to anyone?” She frowned. Maybe he was a reporter or someone trying to trick her. “Who are you?” “I will be your master if you come to me.” His deep voice lowered. “I’m fairly certain you won’t recognize me. And I’m not worried about you trying to describe me to someone. They’d want to know how you knew me. What would you say?” A husky chuckle came over the line. “That I’d fucked you until you were exhausted? That you’d completely surrendered that incredible, sexy body of yours to me?” Francine closed her eyes and couldn’t hold back the moan. She was going to be dripping wet if he kept this up! “I…” She swallowed. “I see your point.” “I thought you might. Now, regarding safety. I’m clean, but I will be using condoms.” “I’m clean,” she whispered. “Kevin always used condoms. And I get a quarterly birth control shot because I have trouble taking pills.” “Good. Now to give you a basic idea of what to expect. Two women will meet you at the car. They will gag and blindfold you. This will emphasize your helplessness and help you get in the right mindset. I will spank and punish you in various ways, but I will not do anything that would permanently mar that perfect body of yours. And,” his voice dropped to a 21
Abby Gordon
husky whisper, “Before I let you go, I will fuck that heart-shaped ass of yours and give you the orgasm of your life.” “Oh, God!” Francine moaned. “I don’t believe I’m even considering this. This is surreal. It’s…” “It will happen,” he assured her. “Send an email to your friends and family. Tell them that you caught your ex-fiancé in an extremely compromising position and are going to be in seclusion until some point tomorrow to pull yourself together.” “From what you’ve said, I’ll need another twenty-four hours to recover,” she retorted. He laughed. Francine felt her pussy clench and flood at the deep, warm humor. “You might,” he agreed. “For just one night, Francine, you will submit. You will know what it’s like to surrender absolutely everything to a man who knows what to do with you. The clock will start the second I touch you.” “All right,” she exhaled in a rush. “What else do you want me to do besides send out an email?” “Just obey me. Completely. Absolutely. And without question.” “You don’t ask for much, do you?” She giggled. She couldn’t believe she was actually, seriously doing this! But the idea of being sexually fulfilled by a man who was already arousing her was too damn tempting to pass up. “Perhaps I should tell you that I’m the spoiled youngest child of a fairly indulgent family.” “So you were never spanked?” “I was hardly even told ‘no’,” she replied. “Then again, I wanted to please my parents …” “The way you’ll please me,” he finished. “Or do you secretly want to be a very bad girl and be disciplined? Do you want me to cuff you to a bench or a St. Andrew’s cross to punish you? Before I make you take my cock in your hot little mouth?” 22
Model Fantasy
Her eyes found the painting again. Spanked. Bound to a bench or a whatever he called it. Punished. Made to take his hard cock in her mouth. The heat in her belly spiked and she moaned. “Francine. Answer me,” he ordered. “Do you want that?” “Yes,” she breathed. “I want that. I want you to spank me when I’ve been bad and…” The mental image of being forced to submit made her moan again. “I want to submit to you.” “God, this is going to be so damn good,” he breathed. “Hurry, Francine. Do not touch yourself unless I give you permission. I want you on the edge for me.” “Yes, master,” she replied softly. Silence came over the phone. Francine started to rub her clit, jerked her hand back, then giggled helplessly. Okay, she was probably certifiable but she desperately needed the confidence boost he was offering. Even if all he wanted was to fuck the face all over the magazines, he was clearly eager to have sex with her. He wanted to be in bed with her! Before she could regret it, she opened the door. The man hadn’t moved. “I’ll be ready in an hour.” “Yes, miss,” he nodded. “Shall I wait here or in the lobby?” “I think the lobby would attract less attention.” He pulled out another card. “This is my cell number, miss. If you’ll call when you’re ready, I’ll escort you to the car.”
23
Abby Gordon
Chapter Three Not quite an hour later, she picked up the phone and dialed. In minutes, he knocked on the door and she silently followed him down the hall to the elevator. Francine wasn’t surprised that he guided her to a VIP spot just steps away from the doors. She’d already figured out that her fantasy lover must have considerable wealth and power. The rear windows of the Lexus were as dark as the car, easily blocking out the pale winter sun. As the barrier between the front and rear seats was raised, Francine felt a moment of panic. Before she could reach for the door latch, the locks clicked shut and the car moved forward. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she prayed she wasn’t making a huge mistake. She lost track of time before the car dipped into a parking garage and came to a stop. The driver opened her door and extended a hand to assist her in exiting. A shiver of fear zipped through her, warring with the lingering arousal from the phone call. Two women in silver cloaks and thick silver link chain collars were waiting for her. Silently, they took her arms and guided her into the elevator. Once in the elevator, one woman pulled out a blindfold and the other a gag. “Wait a minute.” Francine shook her head, backing up against the wall. “The master who summoned you said this was what you had both agreed to,” one said quietly. “Is this not correct?” Francine hesitated. This was it. Something told 24
Model Fantasy
her that she could still back out, but once they put that blindfold and gag on her then she was in it completely. She closed her eyes and the deep husky voice filled her head. Just obey me. “Yes,” she whispered, nodding. The women smiled in understanding when she fell silent. “This is your first time to the Club?” the second asked, while her counterpart carefully placed the black silk blindfold over her eyes. “It is. What do I do?” “Whatever he tells you to do,” the first answered. “Do not leave the room without escort. Either by him or those he has escort you.” “Why?” Francine frowned. “You don’t wear a collar. If another master found you, then he could do what he wanted with you. That is the first rule of the Club. Not even the one who summoned you could stop him.” “Right.” Francine nodded. “I’ll stay put. Thank you.” She felt the gag pressing against her lips and caught the wrist. “The one who summoned me,” she started. “Can you tell me anything about him?” The silence extended. “He has not claimed a submissive with a collar,” the first offered. “But he’s been here before, right?” “Yes,” the second one confirmed. “Do you know who I am?” Francine felt a frisson of fear race through her. This could destroy her career. What on earth had she been thinking? “Your identity does not matter. There are those more famous than you here. Once inside these walls, names do not exist.” The gag was pushed firmly but gently between her lips. “Here.” The woman smoothed Francine’s coat from her shoulders. “All that matters is submission to mastery. All that 25
Abby Gordon
exists is pleasure in whatever form you find it.” Francine nodded, keeping her eyes closed behind the black silk. The elevator slid to a stop, although she didn’t know if they’d gone up, down or sideways. From the elevator she counted thirty steps before they paused. A click made her realize they had come to a door. Led forward again a few steps, Francine felt them begin to strip her clothes. She’d been stripped and dressed by numerous people, men and women, but she’d never felt as vulnerable as she did now. This was very different! She was being stripped to be fucked by a man she didn’t know. A man she had given permission to use her sexually. She heard them move around and a door close. “Your clothes are in a closet in the room,” the first woman told her in that low, modulated voice they both used. “Now we will place you on the bed and cuff you as the master requested.” Francine nodded and managed to climb mostly on her own onto the mattress. Silk sheets? They were finer than anything she’d ever felt before, even during a trip to Japan. The women firmly but gently maneuvered her to the middle, placing her head on the pillows and spreading her hair out. Soft leather cuffs were secured around her wrists and ankles. Her arms were secured over her head just far enough apart that her thumbs brushed against each other. However, her ankles were pulled so far apart that Francine felt exposed to her core. She swallowed nervously. Not for the first time she wondered just what she was doing. She truly was on display for the man she had agreed to submit to. Would he be aroused when he saw her? Would he immediately fuck her? Or caress her? When he joined her… Her mind skidded to a halt. For all she knew, he’d been there the entire time since she’d been blindfolded. He could have been waiting for her as they left the elevator. He could have been 26
Model Fantasy
watching to see her reactions, to determine how serious she was about this. He could have… “Good bye,” the two women whispered. The door opened and closed. For a long moment, the only sound in the room was her own panicked breathing. What the hell had she gotten into? She had lost her mind. That had to be it. Or maybe there’d been something in her drinks? She wasn’t used to alcohol. Maybe she’d had too much and was really in a hospital. Rose had been rushed to the hospital the previous year with food poisoning and described how horrible she’d felt after they’d pumped her stomach. Except, her body, especially her stomach and throat, didn’t hurt the way Rose had described. Crap. That left out blaming the alcohol. Maybe she was dreaming? That or insanity seemed to be her only choices. Except… Would she be having such detail in her dreams or if she was insane? Granted, Felicity had told her to dream of her deepest, darkest sexual fantasies, but her sister had never imagined her telling them to two strange men! She shivered as she realized everything. The cards had been real. The phone and the voice when she’d dialed had been real. She had been blindfolded, gagged, stripped and bound spread-out on display for a man she knew nothing about. The door opened and closed. Her heart leaped into her throat. He was here. Francine drew in a shaky breath as she heard his footsteps come closer. They stopped and she realized he was at the side of the bed, looking down at her. The silence seemed to last for hours. What was he thinking? Was he going to stare at her all day or what? She heard a whisper of material. The mattress dipped under his weight and the gag was removed. He smelled of subtle musk and pine. A large hand covered her mouth. The palm was 27
Abby Gordon
slightly callused. “Do not speak.” The hand shifted and his thumb pressed against her lips. She nodded. “My sex slave. The sexiest, most sought after woman on the planet is my personal sex toy for twenty-four hours,” came the deep voice. Sliding inside her mouth, he stroked his thumb in and out. “Every man’s fantasy is mine.” The thumb left her mouth only to be replaced by his lips. His tongue stabbed inward to claim possession by sweeping through her mouth. She moaned, suddenly wondering if his cock would fill her with the same surety and totality. A hand covered her breast and kneaded. The sudden physical movement took her by surprise and wrung a moan from her. As she’d imagined, his hand was warm, the skin rougher and her breast ached for more. His body shifted and then his heavy weight partially covered hers. He was already nude! The sound she’d heard before he got on the bed must have been a robe he’d shrugged off. The crisp hairs of his thigh rasped against her bare legs. He was already aroused, if the erection throbbing against her hip was any indication. “This first time especially, you will be like a slave,” came the gravelly voice. “And as you are a new slave, I must inspect you. I also think I may play with you a bit.” Before she could think, the gag was pushed back into her mouth and his hand moved over her. Fingers spread, his large palm brushed over her ribs and abdomen. Her breath caught in her throat as he reached her bare pussy. For a long moment, he didn’t move. There was a firm, gentle pressure as his hand covered her. The heel of his hand rubbed her clit as the palm did her damp folds. And his fingers spread out, brushing against her inner thighs, 28
Model Fantasy
touching nerves she didn’t know she had. The heat added to hers. She moaned as her hips twitched. After the phone conversation, she knew she was more than ready for him. Surely he could tell how wet she was! One large finger slid between her soft folds and circled the entrance of her pussy. His thumb teased her clit. The finger slipped inside and hooked up. In a pinching motion, he found her G-spot and rubbed. With a moan, she twitched her hips, wanting more. His mouth captured a breast. The tugging and heat of his mouth on her nipple had her whimpering in need. Behind the blindfold, she closed her eyes, focusing on the heat spreading through her body. He’d barely touched her, but he’d known just where to touch her. Or was it that he wanted her to feel pleasure? Francine didn’t know or care. She just knew that she was being touched by a man focused on her needs. “Perfect,” he murmured, laving the other nipple with attention. “Just absolutely, fucking perfect.” Her pussy clenched around his finger and more moisture flooded her core. She moaned as more heat spread with a steady pressure against her nerves. Now, this was foreplay! Kevin had never done this to her! Francine’s brain disengaged. All she wanted was his touch. More. Deeper. Harder. As if knowing what she needed, he did just that, using three fingers to fill her pussy. Moaning as he fingerfucked her, she turned her hips toward him, wanting more. A low chuckle rumbled in the chest against her. His hand left her pussy to press her hip back against the bed before his hands left her completely. “So eager are you?” She nodded vigorously. Anxious to show him, she tilted her pelvis up. There was a low rip. Some rational part of her mind realized he was putting a 29
Abby Gordon
condom on, but all her body wanted was the hard thick cock she’d felt against her stomach inside her. Feeling his body weight shift over her, she caught her breath as he settled between her thighs. His hands shifted into position just under her shoulders. The latex covered tip of his cock pushed against her swollen lips and went no further for several heartbeats. Unable to stand anymore, she lifted her hips and managed to get him a little farther inside. He growled and thrust fully into her. He filled her, stretched her, and covered her. He was large in every way, powerful, strong and taking her body. Her mind reeled at the possession inside and out. Her cry was muffled by the gag. With her limbs stretched and his heavy torso pinning hers, she could only accept his lust. She reveled in him wanting her like this. The helplessness, the vulnerability, the submission—it was everything the card had promised. His breath was hot in her ear as he whispered to her. “This is only the beginning, sweetheart. I’m going to take care of your fantasies, but I’m going to fulfill a few of my own. By the time you leave this room, you will know what it’s like to surrender your body to a master in every way possible. You won’t be getting much sleep, because I’m going to spend most of the time fucking you. Or teasing you until you’re begging me to fuck you. I will teach you how to please me. I will spank you if you’re bad. And,” he chuckled, a low warm sound that sent wet heat gushing to her pussy. “I’ll spank you when you’re good. I’ll put toys in your pussy that will make you scream as you come. Most of all, I’ll fuck this sweet little ass of yours. And you’ll beg me to.” The hard, deep drive of his hips kept up the friction on her clit. Combined with the hot words and his breath on her ear, Francine felt the orgasm begin. 30
Model Fantasy
“No,” he told her. “You don’t come unless I give you permission.” The shock of his statement had her gasping. Reverse psychology took effect as her body struggled to understand that it couldn’t do what he’d primed it to. His next thrust sent her over the edge. Behind the blindfold, she saw bright lights as heat rushed through her. Her pussy walls clamped tight around him. With a muttered obscenity, he too lost control and filled the condom. Spent, he rested on her for a few moments. His head lifted from the pillow next to hers and she felt his fingers pull the gag off. Grateful, she panted much needed oxygen into her lungs. “Stay silent,” he told her. Weakly, she nodded, still feeling the pleasure coursing in her veins. He slowly pulled out of her and the bed shifted as he climbed off. After a moment, she heard water running before he returned. Her head turned toward him, her brow slightly furrowed. Without a word, he cleansed her thighs and pussy. Returning again, he sat on the bed. “You came without permission,” he stated. Slowly, she nodded. How bad was that? What would he do because she hadn’t been able to control her orgasm? “A slave or submissive would expect to be punished for that.” “I understand,” she whispered. “I told you to be silent. I thought you wanted to please me.” Francine saw the trap and frowned. “Good girl,” he approved. “You catch on quickly. So you’ve never been spanked? Even as a child?” Her head nodded on the pillow. “I think you’ll find that it is a very different act than what a naughty child would receive,” he 31
Abby Gordon
drawled. Going around the bed, he released her ankles before going to her wrists. “As this is your first time, it won’t be as many.” He fastened her wrist cuffs together in front of her and pulled her off the bed. “May I ask a question, master?” she managed. “This is all new to me and…” “Ask,” he replied. “What’s the difference between a slave and a submissive? You’ve called me both and I don’t understand the terms.” “Within the guidelines we discussed on the phone, you are both.” He tugged her toward him and she stumbled forward off-balance. Strong hands caught her shoulders. “In the Club, as a rule, slaves are totally dependent on their masters. Many work here like the two who brought you to me.” “What can their masters to do them?” “Anything they want.” Francine gasped at the idea of being only a sexual being. “That is their choice,” he told her. “The only semblance to a slave you will have is sexual.” His lips nuzzled her ear lobe. “A master can use his slave sexually anyway he wants. That is what I intend to do with you.” His teeth nipped the sensitive skin. “A submissive has a few more rights, but that doesn’t really apply to the next twenty-three hours and some-odd minutes.” Trying to come to grips with that, she took deep breaths. There were women who lived in this Club. Who let their masters do anything they wanted. She couldn’t imagine being that subservient to anyone. Both nipples were gripped between his thumbs and forefingers. She moaned at the heat rising in her again as he pinched. Her legs, already weak from the orgasm, buckled and she stumbled backward. One hand caught the chain linking her cuffs. He 32
Model Fantasy
tugged her closer using the nipple still pinched. Trembling she stood before him, head hanging, out of her element and unsure of what to do. “And you? What about you? What do you do here? Where do I fit in?” Gently he put a finger under her chin and lifted her face. “Here I’m your master. Part of being a good master is being careful with your slave,” he told her. His hand eased his grip on her and hefted the slight weight of her breast. “My responsibility is to take care of your needs. That requires administering punishment as well as reward.” “What else?” “What else?” “You said part of being a good master,” she whispered. If this was just a taste of what it would be like, she would seriously consider finding out more about this whole Dominant-submissive thing. Her body was humming happily, which it had never done before. Her legs were wobbly! And the idea of more? This kind relationship beyond the bedroom? “Is there more?” “There can be,” he allowed. He’d tried that once early as a Dominant. Now nearly forty, Grant saw that he couldn’t have controlled Kalley the way she needed to be. Not then. Now he had the sexual knowledge and experience as well as the confidence beyond a playroom or bedroom where it might work. Ten years ago, he’d tried a normal relationship with Sheila and that had failed even more spectacularly. And publicly. Francine was one of the world’s most recognized faces. Even if he wanted a sub like Peter had, Grant wouldn’t be able to keep her to himself without rousing suspicion or getting the very type of publicity he loathed. Sheila had craved the spotlight 33
Abby Gordon
and been furious when he’d broken things off. That week of paparazzi hell nine years ago still haunted him. He’d dropped out of sight almost completely. As he’d expected, the spotlight had quickly moved on to focus on the next idiot foolish enough to stumble in public. Any type of relationship with Francine would put him right back in that circus. This one time was a big enough risk. “How can there be more?” Dragging himself to focus on her, he shook his head. They would never have more than this time. There was no way in hell he was going to willingly step back into that craziness. No matter how good a fuck she was. “This is just a sexual fantasy, remember? That’s it.” Francine nodded, wondering why she was disappointed at his answer. How could she be disappointed in being reminded that this was shortterm? An arm wrapped around her waist and lifted her against a muscular body. She felt herself carried ten steps before her feet touched the floor again. “What are you going to do?” “Spank you, then while you’re still secured to the bench, I’m going to fuck your mouth.” He lifted her slim body and settled her on a padded bench. The blindfold was tightened slightly. “I don’t understand. It sounds more as if this punishment,” she pushed the unfamiliar word past her lips. “Is to get you hard again so…” “This was what you wanted,” he told her, voice calm. “You said you wanted to be completely helpless, totally dominated, and fully satisfied sexually.” His mouth brushed her ear. “Well, honey, let me tell you. I aim to please.” The heat disappeared and she squeezed her eyes. She certainly felt the helpless part! To her it 34
Model Fantasy
seemed totally unfair that he got to punish her when she’d come! What was that about? He’d come too! “Nearly forgot this,” he murmured. “That’s part of the fantasy, isn’t it?” She heard him walking around, heard drawers opening and closing, and tried to discern what he was preparing next. Dammit! What had been her fantasy relating to spankings? She felt something draped along her lower back before he eased it between her stomach and the padding. A belt? What for? She tried to remember her rambling and froze. Something about dildos in her ass and pussy. Oh, God! He wasn’t… She felt him part her ass cheeks and moaned. “No, please,” she whispered, turning her head on the bench. “Kevin did it and…” “Shh, sweet slave,” came the oddly gentle voice as his hand stroked her back. “This will be different. I promise. This is just a small butt plug. It’s lubed to go in easier. Gradually, I’ll use larger ones to get you ready for me to fuck you here.” With a whimper, she felt the anal plug push past the sphincter muscle. In quick, smooth movements, he looped straps to secure the plug and then easily pushed a much larger dildo into her pussy. Francine had never felt so…full. But she had no idea what he was going to do. “Master? Please, I...” “Shh, little one,” he murmured from behind her. His hands caressed her from her buttocks up her back and along her sides. “Just take slow deep breaths and relax. I won’t hurt you. Damaging something so beautiful would be a crime.” Dragging in shaky breaths, she rested her cheek on the silk. Silk? She didn’t know diddly-squat about BDSM, but everything she’d heard involved leather. “I’m okay.” She finally nodded. “Sorry.” “It’s all right,” he told her. “You’re new to this 35
Abby Gordon
and I need to explain more to you.” He tapped the ends of the dildo and butt plug. “I think you’ll actually enjoy this punishment. These vibrate as the heat in your body increases. As your muscles squeeze them, they pulse.” “And when I orgasm?” He chuckled. Something hard—maybe a paddle—tapped her right ass cheek. “You’ll see.” “How many times are you going to spank me?” “I’m going to spank you until you’ve had four orgasms. One after the other.” “Right now?” She heard the incredulity in her own voice and knew he was the crazy one. “I’ve never had multiple orgasms. Or one so soon after, and…” “Never? Excellent,” he growled softly. “I can’t wait to see your reaction.” “I can’t,” she told him bluntly. “Because a doctor or someone with extensive knowledge of inducing multiple orgasms from a woman said so?” “I don’t think it’s possible for a woman…” Smack! She gasped as the paddle struck her right cheek. “What are…” She came off the bench as much as possible. “That hurt!” “Do I need to gag you to get you to focus?” he demanded. “If this will be your first time…” “All right,” she sighed, relaxing back down. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” A second later, the paddle came down on the left. She yelped again. “Focus.” Francine focused on her body as the paddle came down again. She had disobeyed him by having an orgasm without permission. Permission! He had been touching her, fucking her like his life depended 36
Model Fantasy
on it, but it was her fault she had an orgasm? That didn’t make any sense at all. He was punishing her. Punishing her? By putting vibrating dildos in her to push her to orgasm? That didn’t sound… A fourth smack was followed quickly by a fifth. The fifth didn’t land on an ass cheek but just above the butt plug. Her pussy tightened and she drew in a sharp breath. Both dildos had started to vibrate. As if sensing the change, he continued spanking her near the dildos. Francine pressed her forehead against the cool silk and tried to breathe normally. To regain control of her body. She did it all the time during shoots. She had excellent muscle control, which was necessary for holding the ridiculous poses photographers liked. No use. Her body didn’t listen as the spanking continued. Perspiration covered her body and moans escaped her tightly clenched jaw. The dildos were quivering like a bowstring after the arrow’s release. She thought she heard them humming. Her lungs struggling to fill as if her body was racing to the top of a cliff,. She wasn’t sure just what did it, but all of a sudden she was soaring. With an exultant scream, she flung her head back and gave in to the fire that raced through her. And discovered just what happened to the dildos. As her muscles clamped down on them, they pulsed. And expanded. With a groan, Francine felt her pussy quiver as another orgasm began building rapidly. The man spanked her again just between the dildos. Her body spasmed, jolted up and fell back on the bench. Her breathing was shallow. Holy shit! She’d just had two… Another smack just on the end of the plug. The orgasm shot through her like a Roman candle on the Fourth of July. Behind the blindfold, she saw stars exploding. 37
Abby Gordon
“Oh, my God,” she whimpered, trembling from head to toe. “I can’t take anymore.” “One more,” he reminded her. Before she could brace herself, the paddle hit the dildo in her pussy. Every muscle in her body tightened, literally lifting her off the bench as far as possible given the restraints. Electricity spun through her core, pulsing as it held her in its grip, stringing her out until she collapsed, wondering if she’d be able to move again without assistance. The paddle fell to the floor with a thud. His fingers threaded through her hair as his palms gripped her head between them. For a long moment, they stayed like that. The only sound was her panting. “Open your mouth.” Obediently, knowing she would do whatever he wanted after that experience, Francine parted her lips as wide as possible. Thick, with the vein pulsing against her tongue, his cock filled her mouth now. Eager to taste him, she explored him. Her tongue wrapped around the head, licked at the salty drops leaking from the narrow slit, and teased the nerves just below his hood. He groaned and she sucked her cheeks in. Now focusing all her energy on the cock in her mouth, Francine was determined to make him feel what she had. She had no idea if men could have multiple orgasms, but she was going to get him as close as womanly possible! She could feel his fingers tangle and tighten in her hair. The salty seepage against her tongue grew and she leaned in. If she was his, then, by God, he was hers! His body jerked as a roar seemed to be wrung from his throat. And his fluid poured down Francine’s throat. Eagerly she swallowed him, sucking him dry until with a groan, he pulled free of her. Panting, he knelt at her side and released her 38
Model Fantasy
ankles. His hand caressed her trembling back muscles. He pulled the blindfold from her before freeing her wrists. She gazed at the chiseled face of the man she’d given herself to. Not pretty-boy attractive, but rugged, with a slight bump in his nose as if it had been broken. Slight lines around his mouth and eyes told her that he was definitely over thirty, probably closer to forty. His jaw was square with a slight cleft to his chin. There was astonishment in the pale blue eyes. “Dear God, woman, any man to let you go is a fool and should be committed,” came the whisper. Exhaustion from jet-lag, the emotional turmoil over Kevin’s betrayal, and, most of all, the five orgasms she’d had swept over her. “You say the nicest things.” **** She must have dozed, because the next thing she knew she was back on the silk sheets in a warm cocoon. A heartbeat thudded near her ear and she realized the warmth was him. She wasn’t bound, gagged, or blindfolded. She was simply held as if they were a normal couple who’d had sex and were recovering in the afterglow. He literally surrounded her. Francine felt completely protected, even as she felt his erection pressing against her thigh. Protected and desired. Could a woman ask for more? A memory came to mind and she giggled before she realized it. “What’s so funny?” a deep voice rumbled at the top of her head. “I was thinking that, all things being equal, this rejection worked out much better than the first time.” “I’m flattered.” His arms tightened around her. “Although, I can’t see you being rejected once, much less twice. What happened the first time?” 39
Abby Gordon
“Oh, more than once. And I was devastated and heart-broken.” She sighed. “He was the love of my life. Eddie had sun-bleached blond hair and bright blue eyes. It was a magical summer. We watched the Fourth of July parade and fireworks together and pledged our undying love to each other. We even made our own vows. We promised to share all the smiles, all the tears, all the shouts and all the laughter,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes. “Knowing that one person, no matter what else, would always have our backs.” “What happened?” he asked in a low, concerned voice. He rolled her onto her back so he could see her face. “What did he do to you?” Her breath released in a huff. That first heartbreak had hurt so damn much! “Katie Jenkins. She had braces and was already a teenager.” Francine scowled. “I hated her. She was in high school and I was just in eighth grade.” “You mean…?” “Yep,” she sighed. “I got dumped for an older woman.” She giggled at the shocked, perplexed look on his face. “Had you there, didn’t I?” Rich warm laughter filled the air. He was handsome when he was serious, but when humor lit up his face, dear God, a woman would do anything for this man! She had known him maybe an hour and would probably crawl across the room for him. Her mind raced. Had that been a fantasy during her bar-side confessional? She hoped not. That would be a bit more demeaning than she could handle. “Shit, you reeled me in good with that.” He grinned as his arms held her tight against his broad chest. “Is any of that true?” “Every word.” She nodded, snuggling against him. “I was at that age when you’re so sure everything in life is absolutely perfect. Nothing can go wrong and no one can hurt you.” 40
Model Fantasy
“Eddie was a scumbag who didn’t deserve you,” he told her as his hands stroked her hair down her back. “I hope someone told you that.” “My older sister. She was a senior in college and came home that weekend to make me feel better. Felicity’s the one who taught me that broken hearts can be fixed by a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and a pedicure. When you’re over twenty-one, it takes alcohol to really do it.” “When did you learn that?” “Yesterday,” she sighed. “I called her when I checked into the hotel. She’s in Ohio and told me to march myself to the bar, tell the bartender to give me no more than five drinks and then have someone get me back to my room.” “You still managed to get into trouble.” “I don’t know if I’d call it that,” she replied coyly. Her hand caressed the rippling muscles of his torso. God, the man must work out for hours. “I would call it every woman’s dream come true. A real man to take charge of life, of me, of every sexual need I have and those I didn’t know I had in the first place. A woman couldn’t ask for much more.” “Neither could a man,” he agreed, his lips capturing hers. Francine gasped as he leveraged his body over hers. For a brief moment, they lay there—his heavy body on hers, hips meeting hips. His cock throbbing against her stomach. And she reveled in it. Yes, she could barely breathe and, if he stayed like that too long, he would probably crush her, but all she could feel was the maleness of him. Strength oozed from him. Not just physically, but she could see it in his eyes. This was a man who knew who he was. He was confident of what he was doing in life, his career, and with her. Her hands stroked the hard planes of his back and cupped the firm ass. She squeezed gently and 41
Abby Gordon
trailed a finger along the tight crack between his buttocks. He moaned slightly and nibbled on her ear. “Woman, you are begging to get fucked again, aren’t you?” “Please,” she whispered. “Say it. Tell me what you want.” She didn’t know where the words came from. Maybe it was the pent-up needs Kevin had never seemed to fulfill. Maybe it was the emptiness she’d felt whenever she’d listened to other women talk about how satisfying their sex lives were. Or maybe, she considered, it was just the fact that this was all a fantasy and she could let loose and not worry about anything. He didn’t seem like someone who would brag to his friends about what he had done with Francine Lincoln. “Fuck me, master. Hard and fast as if our lives depended on it. Fuck me as if nothing else matters.” The man above her growled softly. One hand left her and went unerringly to the still open nightstand drawer. Raising the square packet, he ripped it open with his teeth. Smiling, she took the condom packet from his mouth. Holding her gaze, he raised his hips. Fingers trembling, she smoothed the condom down the hard length of his cock. When she finished, she looked at his face. Barely restrained hunger burned in his eyes and she sensed he was waiting for her to let him know she was ready. Spreading her legs for him, she inhaled a ragged breath. Like a heatseeking missile, his cock found her pussy. In one stroke, he buried himself in her wet heat. “Yes!” she exulted, wrapping her legs around his. “Take me. Fuck me. Please!” “This once, I’ll let you get away with giving me orders,” he told her. She grinned up at him. “Or you could spank me again for being a bad girl.” “A very bad girl,” he agreed, seeking the soft 42
Model Fantasy
hollow at the base of her neck.
43
Abby Gordon
Chapter Four Grant found himself in unchartered territory. Despite all his training and knowledge as a Dominant, he was throwing it out the window. With Francine, he wanted to go back to basics. Missionary position, his cock inside her, her pussy hot around him, her moans and whimpers soft in his ear. Despite all the equipment in the next room—the restraints and toys he’d assembled—all he could think about was taking her in the most rudimentary, caveman-like way. Man sees woman he wants, he grabs her, pulls her to him and fucks her. It certainly seemed enough for Francine. Her hands stroked his back as he lay on top of her. When he’d thrust into her pussy, her fingers clutched at him, nails scraping his shoulders. The urgency of her grabbing at him, the shallowness of her breath, the whimpers that escaped her mouth—all pushed him further until all he could think about was losing himself in her. Hard. Fast. Take her. Fuck her. Leave his mark on her. He was a man possessed. He wanted it to last forever, yet wanted to spill himself inside her as fast as possible. She was clawing at his back, her cries louder and more breathless in her need. Her pussy was so slick, his dick slid inside her easily despite the tightness. Stroking harder, he lost himself in the rhythm. Suddenly, she arched up under him. Her pussy walls gripped him tight as a vise and pulled him with her. With a last thrust, he threw his head 44
Model Fantasy
back and roared. He felt his entire body pulse as his semen filled the condom. Deep chest heaving, he looked down at her. Oh, yeah, he thought with satisfaction. Was there anything better than totally possessing a woman and seeing that look on her face? Total satisfaction. Total exhaustion. Blue-green eyes opened and she smiled up at him. Pure repletion as she reached up and touched his cheek. “Oh, wow.” She sighed. “I don’t think I can think.” Lowering his head, he brushed a kiss across her lips. “I don’t think you need to right now,” he replied, tasting the saltiness of her perspiration on her forehead. “How do you feel?” “I’m floating,” she managed to say. “I didn’t think levitation was possible, but you proved that theory wrong.” He nuzzled her neck. A musky scent mixed with roses. The aroma reminded him of the image he’d had when he first saw her. “You remember the ad campaign you did a few years ago? You were covered with roses.” “Yeah, my first big contract.” She nodded. “It was for a perfume.” “Really?” He shook his head. “All I know is that I saw it and all I could think of was what it would be like to have your body any and every way imaginable.” “Really?” She peered up at him. “And now that you have?” She ran her hands over his chest to his shoulders. “I hope I haven’t disappointed you.” “I wouldn’t worry about that, sweetheart,” he replied as the corner of his mouth quirked up. “I can’t keep my hands off you or my cock out of you.” The warmth in his eyes meant as much as the words of approval. Words she’d never heard from 45
Abby Gordon
Kevin. Or anyone else, for that matter. “Was there more to what you imagined?” She smiled and wriggled her hips slightly. “Oh, yeah.” He smiled down at her. “Lots more.” “Like what? What’s in store for the rest of the time we’re together?” “You’ve probably figured that I’m into Domination and submission. With a touch of bondage and discipline.” “Yeah.” She nodded, smiling slightly. “That I figured out pretty quick. I’m not sure I could deal with much more hitting or anything though. I can’t have marks on my body. I have a photo shoot Monday and a commercial shoot on Tuesday.” “Wasn’t planning on it.” He shook his head. “Not too much. Although, I would love to try out a few things with you.” “Like what?” She frowned, wondering what else he would do. “Like tying you to a St. Andrew’s cross and teasing you until you came.” “You mentioned that during the phone call. What is a St. Andrew’s cross?” “Basically a large X. The submissive is secured and the Dom, that’s me,” he reminded her with a faint smile, “does what he or she likes to the sub. Within agreed upon limits.” “Wait a second.” She blinked. Had she heard him right? “Women do that? To other women? Or to men?” She stared at him in stunned confusion. “Both,” he replied easily. “But I don’t plan on sharing you with anyone, so don’t worry about that. You didn’t think about that, did you? About me having another man or woman with us.” “No,” she whispered. “I was tempted, but decided against it. I’ll be hard-pressed to get this top ten solo wish list completed, much less add another man or woman to 46
Model Fantasy
the mix.” She just looked at him. “Back to the topic. A St. Andrew’s cross is often used to secure the sub for punishment. Much like the spanking bench. A sub can either face the cross, leaving the back exposed, or have their back to the center of the cross. Depends on what the Dom wants.” “Sounds like the sub is more exposed and vulnerable on the cross than on the spanking bench,” she whispered, shivering slightly. Was she scared? Or turned on? She felt her pussy tighten and knew while it was a mix, she was definitely aroused at the idea of this man doing that to her. Grant smiled, glad she caught on quickly. He pulled out of her carefully and removed the condom. Leaving the bed, he dropped it into the bathroom trashcan and returned. She was frowning in thought and looked up at him. “What can the Dom do to the sub?” “It depends on the Dom’s mood and the scene they agree on.” “They agree on?” she echoed. “Okay, what I know would barely cover a pinhead, but I thought the Dom decided everything and the sub just went along with it.” “That’s the common stereotype,” he told her. He stretched out on his side, holding her to him. Grant didn’t understand his need to keep her close, but given that he’d fucked her three times inside an hour, it made sense to hold onto her in case the urge arose again. On cue, his dick twitched. “In reality, the sub holds a lot more power than outsiders realize. By surrendering control to the Dom, the sub actually retains control. One word from the sub and it’s over. If the Dom is worth his or her salt, the scene ends immediately. The sub has to completely trust that the Dom will honor the safe word. If there is no trust, there’s no point in doing anything at all.” “Sounds a lot like life in general,” whispered 47
Abby Gordon
Francine. “Except for the part about honor and…what is a safe word? I don’t have one.” “A safe word is what the sub says if there is any pain, if things get too intense or the Dom goes beyond what they agreed on. And you’re right. You don’t have a safe word. Yet.” He trailed his fingers along her face. “That’s my fault. I lost all control when I saw you tied up on the bed.” He smiled as his semi-erect cock hardened more at the memory. “I seem to be doing that a lot with you.” “You hear me complaining?” She smiled, one hand stroking over his chest and abdomen. Her long fingers wrapped around his growing erection. “Although, I might start wondering if you’re on medication. I’ve never heard of a man getting hard again this quickly after sex.” “Must be the woman I’m with,” he commented, eyes on the pale fingers stroking his dick. “To be perfectly honest, I’m setting a few personal records.” Something very much like a purr came from her throat. “You do say the perfect things to make a woman feel wanted,” she told him. “So? Do I get a safe word? Or should I make you lose control again?” Grant opened his mouth. Before he could manage any intelligent words, she slithered down his body and pushed him onto his back. Her warm breath heated his cock a split second before she took him in her mouth. “Oh, my God,” he groaned. Francine maneuvered her body between his legs and indulged herself. What the hell was happening to her? She’d never liked giving head before, but now she couldn’t stop! Had to be the man, she decided. Had to be…because the first time with this man had been after he’d given her four orgasms in a row, plus the one when he’d first come to her. Because he had put her pleasure first and all she could think of was 48
Model Fantasy
giving him the same thing. Something told her he was a man who put his submissive first. The sub’s needs and pleasure. The sub’s discipline and punishment. He put all of that before what he needed. It didn’t make sense to her. Surely he needed to be stroked and taken care of. He needed to be pleasured and made to feel needed. So she would do that. To him. For him. He was bringing her sexual fantasies to life and she would do the same for him. It hadn’t taken her long in the other room to realize how much he’d enjoyed having his throbbing length in her mouth. His hands in her hair had tightened so much there’d been tears in her eyes. But his obvious pleasure and the feel of his rush in her throat had been more than worth it. It was a newfound power for her. And somehow she thought she understood the relationship he’d been describing. As she pulled him further into her mouth, she could see his hands fisting the sheets. Under her hands, the muscles in his thighs trembled as if he was trying to hold back, to control himself. Oh, no! She wanted that animal back. The caveman who’d fucked her wildly within moments of seeing her. Her fingers caressed his thighs, lightly tugging on the crisp dark hairs before one hand circled the base of his cock. Her other hand caressed his muscular torso, her fingernails gently raking over his chest. He hissed slightly when she flicked his nipples. The first drops leaked out and she hollowed her cheeks trying to push him over the edge. “No!” he shouted, grabbing her shoulders. He pulled her up along his body so her legs fell on either side of him. “Ride me,” he commanded in a hoarse voice. “Let me see you ride me.” He took a deep breath and she watched him regain control. “Get a condom.” Nodding, she reached into the partially opened 49
Abby Gordon
drawer and tried to open it. An intense expression on his face, he took the packet from her hand, opened it and, tossing the wrapper to the floor, quickly unrolled it down the length she was getting to know so well. His hands lifted her hips. “Put me inside you,” he told her. Her hand held his cock and she lowered herself on to him. A guttural moan came from her. “Oh. My. God.” A shudder swept through her body. Panting, she looked down at him. “And I thought you filled me before!” She closed her eyes and relished the full feeling. “I’ve never seen anything as sexual and sensual as you right now,” he whispered. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Move on me.” His hand went to where they were joined. His fingers brushed over her clit. She gasped and her hips rotated. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he encouraged. “Let yourself go. Rub against me.” Her eyes half-closed, she flung her head back and let her body move in slow circles. It drove him half-crazy watching her. He’d thought he’d been hard seeing her bound to the bed, but nothing was as erotic as watching her grind against him, focused on what brought her the most pleasure. Reaching up, he tweaked her nipples. “Oh, yes!” she moaned. “Do that again. Play with me.” He kneaded her breasts and she writhed in helpless need. “More?” he wondered. “What do you want?” “I want to fuck you,” she panted, falling forward and planting her hands on either side of his head. “I want…to feel you so deep inside me that I can’t breathe. I want…all of you. Until neither of us can move.” “Then ride me, sweetheart. Ride me hard.” 50
Model Fantasy
Giving in to primal needs, Francine closed her eyes and moved her hips. Her entire body was focused on one thing—fucking both their brains out. Heat filled her. She’d never gotten sweaty during sex, but now she could feel it covering her body. The position put incredible pressure that went deep into her pussy. She would have happily stayed there. Until he touched her clit. It had been the spark to the bonfire. When she’d shifted her hips, his pubic bone had pressed hard against her clit. And her G-spot. When she’d leaned forward, the pressure had become more intense. As he’d played with her breasts, caressed her body, she felt something else take over. Something wild and free, animalistic and hungry. All that mattered was the release. The fire built up inside and she threw herself into the flames. Just as he had earlier, she threw her head back and shouted as her pussy convulsed around his cock. Even as she came down from the high, his fingers were on her clit. Before she realized it, he was heating her back up. Rolling over, he whispered in her ear. “Come for me again, sexy Francine. Come for me hard.” As he focused on his own release, Francine cherished those words. Being called it by magazines, votes in a poll—none of that mattered. Not like it did when the words were said by a man who so clearly couldn’t get enough of her. With a moan, she arched off the mattress as she came again. And he filled her. Before collapsing on top of her. Eager to hold him, she wrapped her arms and legs around him before he could get off her. “Stay.” “I’ll crush you,” he murmured. “I’m okay,” she told him, eyes closed. “I’ve never felt so perfect in my life as I do right now.” “I may be dead tomorrow but, good God, what a 51
Abby Gordon
way to go!” He kissed her sweaty forehead and sighed.
52
Model Fantasy
Chapter Five She’d fallen asleep again. This time she woke up to hear water running. Stretching, she felt her muscles protest slightly. Parts of her were sore, but on the whole there was a deep contentment in her entire body. She looked around but didn’t see a clock. Time didn’t seem to matter right now. Although, she smiled, a shower definitely sounded like a good idea. She was sweaty and sticky. Besides, she thought, sliding out of the bed, who knew what they could do in the shower? She was willing bet her next cosmetic contract check that master could come up with all sorts of wonderful things a horny couple could do in the shower. If nothing else, she could suck on his cock again. That would definitely get things rolling. Just in case, she dipped her hand into the drawer and pulled out a couple of condom packets. The steam parted slightly as the cooler air from the bedroom rushed into the bathroom. She quickly closed the door. As the heat caressed her body, she tossed the condoms onto the counter. Through the shower door she could see the outline of his body. Her knees went weak just looking at him. He really was magnificent to look at. Broad shoulders, deep chest and rippling muscles everywhere from head to toe. Her fingers itched to touch him. “Come here,” he rumbled. He opened the door slightly. His finger crooked at her. Obediently, she went and he pulled her into the warm spray. “How do you feel?” “Wonderful.” 53
Abby Gordon
He gave her a ‘don’t try that on me look.’ “A little sore,” she admitted. “I’m not used to this kind of activity in one month, let alone a few hours.” He chuckled. “The shower will help and then we’ll eat before I show you more of what’s in the playroom.” “The playroom?” she repeated as he guided her under the water. “Is that what it’s called? You make it sound like we’re in kindergarten or something.” “Not hardly,” he drawled. “Some call it a dungeon or a toy room. Or make up their own words for it.” “Where are we?” she wondered as his ran his hands through her hair to get it thoroughly wet. He hesitated. “Can you tell me in general terms?” “We’re at a club. A very exclusive, difficult to be admitted to, club for people who like their sex a bit different than what society considers acceptable.” “You mean, tying a woman to a bed or a spanking bench and fucking her brains out until she’ll do anything you tell her to isn’t acceptable?” she wondered, running her hands over his shoulders. “Not hardly.” He smiled at her as he poured shampoo into his palm. “So, have I satisfied your needs enough for you to do anything I tell you to?” “Just about,” she admitted. Closing her eyes, she sighed as he massaged her head to work the shampoo through. There was something so intimate about her lover washing her hair. “I don’t know who you are. What you do. Or anything else about you, but…” she shrugged. “I just know that you’ve made me feel alive. More like a woman than I’ve felt in my life. It’s as if you’ve tapped into a part of me that I didn’t even know existed.” A short laugh and she shook her head as he gently pushed her back under the spray. Emerging, she wiped the water from her 54
Model Fantasy
face. “God, I sound like the sappy romance stories I stole from my sister’s bedroom.” “This isn’t a romance,” he reminded her. “This is just a fantasy.” “I know,” she nodded, a smile curving her full lips. “It’s more like the erotic stories I download in the middle of the night. I’ve always wondered if men like that really existed. If the sex could really be that good.” “How good?” he asked, now rubbing the soapy washcloth over her. “Make you pant, sweaty, hungry, burning for more until you collapsed sex.” She ducked back under the water, turning to get all the suds off. Grinning, she reached for his half-erect cock. “And you keep coming back for more. You can’t get enough no matter how many times you’ve done it. You need more.” She felt and saw the tremor that swept through him. “I’ve never liked sucking a man’s cock before. Now, I can’t get enough.” “What’s different?” he asked in a rasping voice. “Because you took care of me first. Because…” She stroked the stiffening length, tilted her head and met his eyes. “Because I could see how good it made you feel. And I want to.” She stepped closer. “I want to make you feel as good as you’ve made me feel.” She pressed her body to his and felt his dick nestle against her stomach. His arms went around her. “I know this isn’t a romance. I know it’s all a fantasy. But why can’t we make the fantasy feel as good as we can?” She went up on her toes to nibble on his ear. “What’s your ultimate fantasy? What would make you feel the most pleasured and satisfied?” “Baby, I’m having it come to life now,” he told her. His beard-stubble cheek rubbed against her face. His arm braced her waist and lifted her off the 55
Abby Gordon
tile. “I have the sexiest, most desired woman on the planet as my sexual plaything. I get to fuck you every way I can think of.” His mouth burned a trail down her neck. Lifting her higher, he pressed her against the wall and began to suckle her breasts. With a sigh of anticipation, she threaded her fingers through his hair and wrapped her legs around his waist. “And I love the way you’re thinking,” she breathed. Bracing his feet, Grant focused on making her as hot as possible. He knew he wouldn’t last long once he was inside her. She needed to have at least one orgasm before his cock entered her. Otherwise, he would be done before her. And he relished feeling her come undone around him. His hand found the bare, baby-soft skin between her thighs and began playing with her folds. God help him, but she was dripping with honey. It was like finding the promised land. And she was his. For now. The two words made him freeze and feel empty inside. No fucking way. He wasn’t getting involved with women. Especially a woman like her whose career required her to live in the spotlight. This was just sex. This was just one day. Twenty-four hours. Pure fantasy. So why the hell did he suddenly want more? He’d lost his fucking mind. She was followed by the press. It was her job to be in the press, to be seen and talked about. Her world was one he was never stepping back into. “Master?” she panted. She wriggled against his hand. “Don’t tease me. Please.” Tease. Please. Oh, yeah, he would do both, and more. With a snarl, he surged up and drove his cock into her pussy. He felt the breath whoosh out of her as her upper body impacted with the wall behind 56
Model Fantasy
her. The lust rose up hard and fast in him and demanded an outlet. Demanded release. In her. He nearly slipped on the tile and froze. Francine gave a small scream and clutched at his shoulders. Trembling, she buried her head against his neck. He swore under his breath. She was trusting him to keep her safe. Not be so horny that he got them both injured in the shower. Oh, shit. He’d forgotten a condom. “Shh,” he murmured. “It’s all right. It’s all right. I need to get a condom.” “On the counter,” she whispered, nuzzling his damp skin. “God, you taste so good.” Grant didn’t move for a moment as the words resonated. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had said something like that to him. Or the last time a woman had been as open with him. One hand slid over his arm and down his ribs. A second later, long, slender fingers were teasing his balls. “Oh, hell,” he muttered. “Not here, though. Tile’s too damn wet. We’ll slip and kill ourselves.” His left hand reached out and turned the water off. Clutching her to him, he shoved the door open and saw the packets next to the sink. Barely resting her dripping body on the counter, he set speed records getting the damned thing on. He glanced around. Where to take her? The closed door was a step away and in a heartbeat he had her against it. She cried out as her body collided with the door. He barely heard her—nothing else mattered except the force of him surging into her. Her hands scrabbled along his shoulders to hold on, but the speed and force of his thrusts were too much. All she could do was press her hands against the walls to brace herself. Grunting, he gave a final thrust and felt his cock drive deep as he released into the condom. Lifting his head, he caught his breath. Talk about 57
Abby Gordon
submissive positions! Palms flat against the wall, eyes closed, and a soft surrendering expression on her face. Again, the thought of having her beyond this time came to his mind, but he dismissed it. Now it was fantastic, but lightning couldn’t strike twice. Take what he could and let it go. That had been his mantra for nearly a decade. It had served him well so he would stick to it. Part of being a Dom was ensuring the sub’s pleasure. She hadn’t orgasmed so he would take care of that. Easing out of her, he smiled at her whimper, at the way her hands reached for him. As if to keep his cock inside her. “Stand up, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I’m going to eat your pussy.” “What?” She frowned. “Don’t tell me no one’s ever licked your pussy.” He cocked an eyebrow as he knelt before her. “No one’s eaten this?” His fingers parted her folds. Francine shrugged. “Um, my ex-fiancé didn’t like to, but I have a feeling nothing you do to me is going to come close to what might have been done to me before,” she replied, eyes wide as she looked down at him. She left the words ‘or after’ unspoken. But he understood. And liked the idea of her comparing him to other men. Until he thought of men touching her after him. Anger at the unknown men flared. His hands gripped her thighs and she gasped at the roughness. Ignoring that, he began nibbling just above her bare folds and then went straight for the tiny nub jutting out from its cover. She cried out as he took her clit in his teeth. Two fingers stabbed into her pussy and stroked hard and deep. Just as he had sucked on her nipples, he drew her little nub into his mouth. Her soft mewling spurred him to push her further, faster. He hooked his fingers inside her and pressed his thumb just 58
Model Fantasy
under her clit. In seconds, she exploded, drenching his mouth. Hungrily, he lapped up her sweet juices. When her fingers tightened in his hair, he smiled. She was close again. “Not yet, sweetheart,” he told her, standing. He wanted to teach her about patience, how waiting could increase her orgasm. He hadn’t considered Francine’s wakening sexual needs. “Please,” she begged, pressing close. “Please.” “Food first.” Spoiled by his previous attentions, Francine shook her head and rubbed her breasts against his chest. “One more?” she whispered. Her hand wrapped around his cock. “Please?” Grant inhaled swiftly as his dick reacted to her attention. Damn thing! If he didn’t get control of the situation, he might as well have himself tied to the bed! Stepping back, he caught her wrists. “I said, not yet,” he repeated firmly. And struggled to bite back a laugh at the petulant look that appeared on her face. Keeping his own expression stern, he lifted her chin while holding both her wrists in his other hand. “Are you spoiled already?” “I just want…” “I know what you want, but you have to wait.” “Why?” she demanded. “You want it, too!” “Because someone has to have control and that is me.” “I thought you said the sub had ultimate control and…” Her eyes darted sideways at him and he caught the gleam through the gold tresses. Growling, he picked her up, tossed her over his shoulder and walked out of the bathroom. She’d gone too far and she’d known what she was doing. She’d been trying to see what she could get away with and 59
Abby Gordon
he was going to show her. Going through the bedroom, he knew exactly what to do. When he’d been describing the St. Andrew’s cross, he’d seen her reaction. The spanking bench had turned her on, but the idea of being tied and completely exposed had really made her hot. So he went straight to the far corner and set her down. “What—” The word was swallowed up in a gasp as she looked up. Before she could back away, as if he would let her, he had her wrists secure and knelt to maneuver her legs into position. “What are you going to do?” she whispered. He glanced up and smiled. Her satiny skin was dripping again. He slid a finger inside and felt her clench around him. God, she was hot! “What am I going to do?” he repeated softly, locking her ankles into the cuffs. He stood and pressed his body against hers. “Whatever I want.” He dipped his finger in her pussy, pulled it out and pressed it against her back opening. “You’re going to enjoy me fucking your ass.” “No.” She shook her head. “It will hurt.” “Then why was it part of your fantasy?” He pressed his fingertip into her anus. “I think you like a bit of pain with your sex. Not pain with penetration, Francine. That’s different. I think you want someone to take control of you and give you no choice about what is done to you.” “The thing you used before was smaller than you are. And...” She shook her head. “It was a fantasy,” she whispered. “That’s all.” His finger went to the next knuckle. “Mmm, but fantasies are windows to what we really want,” he said in her ear. He felt the tension in her body. “You just needed a man to take you in hand and push you beyond what you thought possible or right. You needed someone to possess 60
Model Fantasy
you, sweetheart. Deep down inside, you had a hunger, a need for someone to control you, to demand that you surrender control to him. A man who wanted nothing more than to fuck you silly. Lucky for you that you found me. I know how to do what you need. I know how to take care of you in every sexual way. Including here.” His finger was all the way in and he held his breath as the muscles nearly cut off the circulation. “I’m scared,” came her whimper. She rested her cheek on the center support. “I’ve been hurt and…” “Shh,” he murmured, wrapping his free arm around her waist. “I won’t hurt you. Before I fuck your ass, I’ll do everything I can to make sure you’re as ready as possible. All right?” He brushed the damp strands off her face. “I’ve never deliberately caused pain to a sub and I’m not about to start with you.” He held his breath. Slowly, she nodded. He exhaled in relief. “I’ll put a larger butt plug in you now to start that preparation.” “Yes,” she agreed. “Master?” “Yes?” “I’m sorry for doubting you. You haven’t done anything to hurt me. I’m just…I’ve just got a lot on my plate right now.” He nodded, carefully easing his finger from her. Pressing his lips to her temple, he felt her relax in his embrace. “You’re learning quickly, sweetheart. It’s a pleasure to have you at my command.” Her head fell against his shoulder. His hand tangled in her hair and pulled her face further back. Hungrily their mouths met. His other hand covered a breast. She was soft, warm, pliable, and so damn eager! He suddenly wished he had secured her the other way. He could be inside her right now. Inside that hot pussy of hers. He growled and she 61
Abby Gordon
whimpered, wriggling her butt against his cock. “God, I’m not sure which of us is more insatiable,” he whispered, trying to catch his breath. He closed his eyes, content to hold her for a moment. “You ready for the butt plug?” She nodded. He could see the apprehension in her eyes, along with the trust. Going to the cabinet, he was aware of her gaze following his every movement. When he pulled out the smallest plug, he heard her moan. Turning around with the plug and lubricant in his hands, he saw that she’d turned her head in the other direction. Her slender body trembled against the polished wood. He understood. He’d seen subs go through this before. Even though she trusted him, they were about to go into unknown territory for her. Conflicting emotions were racing through her. She was in a world she didn’t know, despite her fantasies. She was with a man she didn’t know. She was helpless and vulnerable to whatever he wanted to do to her. “Francine?” he spoke in a low voice. “Are you all right?” She took a couple deep breaths before slowly raising her head. After another deep breath she looked at him. The courage of a sub could not be underestimated, Grant realized. And the majority of subs he’d come across were women. Could a man have that much inner strength? That much grace and trust to submit so completely to another person? He didn’t think he could. “I am now,” she replied softly. Standing next to her, he touched her cheek. “I’ll be watching your body for any signs of pain,” he assured her. “But, if you can’t handle something, tell me immediately. Discomfort for a few minutes is one thing, but if it doesn’t feel right, speak up. Tell me. Understand?” Her wide blue62
Model Fantasy
green eyes held so much trust. “We haven’t come up with a safe word for you yet. Any ideas?” She frowned and remembered the silk on the spanking bench. “Silk or leather?” “Silk if everything is good and leather if anything is bad. If anything, at anytime, hurts, you say ‘leather’ and I’ll stop immediately. If I ask how you’re feeling and you’re all right with everything we’re doing, just say ‘silk’.” “I understand. Thank you.” She smiled. “Now, I’m going to put this in to get you ready for my dick here.” She nodded. Again, her eyes tracked his movements as he lubed the plug. He knelt behind her and lifted her ass cheeks so they parted. The puckered hole beckoned him and he put the tip against it. “That’s cold!” “Not for long,” he told her. Steadily pushing, he inserted the plug all the way. For a moment, he admired the firm, round, white ass before him. His hands smoothed over the smooth skin of her ass and thighs. “You really are the perfect woman,” he murmured. “No wonder everyone wants you to represent their product.” “I’m not perfect, just photogenic.” she stated, meeting his eyes. She shrugged. “Yes, the money is great, but the attention can actually get ridiculous at times. I won’t mind when the next ‘it’ girl comes along.” “Well, I’d say you had good fortune there.” He smiled up at her. Her words seemed genuine, but he’d learned not to trust words from a woman. “Ready for your punishment?” “Punishment for what?” She frowned. “I lost track.” “For acting like a spoiled child,” he reminded 63
Abby Gordon
her. “Well, if I’m spoiled, I’d say that’s your fault,” she answered pertly. “My fault?” “For being such a good lover that I can’t get enough of you.” “Uh-huh.” He nodded, standing and brushing her long hair over her shoulder to leave her back bare. He went to the cabinet. “Nice try, sweetheart. He opened the top drawer and pulled out one of his favorite toys—a soft tipped cat o’ nine tails. It wasn’t so much for punishment, but for teasing a sub and keeping them on the edge. If she thought he’d taken her to the brink before, she’d be nearly incoherent by the time they were done with this scene. Francine stared at the device in his hand. Several leather strips hung from a leather-wrapped wand. He was going to use that on her? No fucking way! He stepped toward her and she opened her mouth. Before she could speak, he raised his arm and swung it around. She gasped as the leather hit her back. Not from pain, although it did sting a bit. More from just being struck than anything. Now he trailed the leather strips up her leg, and she closed her eyes. Okay, now she got it. He was going to tease her with this thing. She bit her bottom lip as he pulled it away. The strips came down and wrapped around her right hip. He repeated the action continually, leaving little of her back untouched. And she felt her ass cheeks tremble from the effort of keeping the plug in. He went to the cabinet and picked up a bigger plug. With a small moan, she rested her forehead against the center support. He pulled the plug out and carefully pushed the bigger one in. To Francine, the new one felt twice as big, but she knew his erection 64
Model Fantasy
was even bigger. “All right, sweetheart?” he whispered in her ear. “What’s your word?” “S…silk,” she gasped. “The plug,” she panted, squeezing her ass to hold it in. When it started to vibrate, she panicked slightly. “What…it’s moving.” “To prepare you better. I’m not going to just insert Tab A into Slot B,” he reminded her, hands stroking her back and sides. “Just like this.” He pressed against her and traced his fingers down her spine until they circled her puckered hole. “It’s so hard to wait to have my cock in this tight ass of yours.” All she could think of was him fucking her like that. His heavy body on hers, pinning her to the mattress, or the floor, or even the cross she was bound to. She wouldn’t be able to resist him. That act more than anything else would be one of his total domination. And she didn’t want to wait anymore. “Master, please,” she pleaded. “Take me like that now. Please.” “Not yet, sweetheart. You’re not ready. I’d rather wait and make sure you can take me here.” His finger tapped the end of the plug. “Some Doms rush things. Their subs pay the price.” His lips nibbled the tip of her ear. “I’m not going to have that with you. Understand?” Leaning back against him, she nodded. He was taking care of her. Even though it was clear that he wanted to penetrate that last orifice with his cock, he wasn’t going to until he was certain she could take him without being injured. That was certainly more than Kevin had done! The first time they’d had sex, that was where he’d taken her. No wonder, she realized, understanding dawning on her, she’d had trouble reacting to his touch later. Why on earth had she continued dating him? Much less accepted his proposal! Why had she stayed with someone who 65
Abby Gordon
was such a…bully, she closed her eyes. This man was totally different. He was someone she had instinctively trusted just hearing his voice. “I understand. Even though I want to feel you inside me now.” Suddenly she felt his hands at her ankles. As his body supported her, he freed her wrists. “Master?” Without a word, he turned her around and refastened her to the cross. She whimpered. Oh, this was going to be worse! From the slight curve of his lips, she could tell that he wanted her begging for him to fuck her. No matter how much she tried, she knew she would. Her need for him would be greater than her pride. His arm came up and down. She felt the soft leather across her breasts and belly. Heat flared, both in where the strikes landed and in her pussy. She moaned as he worked his way up and down her body. Master indeed! He knew a woman’s body and played her like a virtuoso with his favorite instrument. When a leather tip caught her pussy, she cried out, hearing her own hunger in the sound. Knowing how close she was, he increased the number of hits there, and the intensity. Trembling, she felt her juices start dripping down her thighs. “Master, please,” she whimpered. “Please.” “What do you want, sweetheart?” The leather strips fanned across her abdomen, wrapping around her thighs and teasing her clit and folds. She moaned, twisting toward him as much as possible. “Please,” she begged. “What do you need from me, sweetheart?” he said quietly, bringing his arm back again. “What do you want?” “I need you,” she told him. “I want your cock 66
Model Fantasy
inside my pussy. I need you.” As she kept whispering the words, the lashes continued. She felt like she was in a new age meditation class and ‘I need you’ was her mantra. It was her sole focus. All that mattered was him fucking her. All she needed was him possessing her. Everything was a blur as her entire being centered on him taking her. When the heat of his body suddenly pressed against hers, she gasped, startled. Then she melted against him. He already had a condom on. In her sexual haze, she hadn’t even noticed the pause when he’d put the toy down. “Master,” she murmured. “Please, fuck me.” In one stroke he thrust into her pussy to his balls. His hands stroked up her arms and their fingers intertwined. His tongue thrust into her mouth and she thought she’d died and gone to heaven. All that mattered was right then — nothing else but the cock filling her, the tongue possessing her, and the muscular body between her and the rest of the world. They were both on edge and in just a few deep strokes, she came, squeezing his cock with her pussy. His groan filled her ears as she felt the flood of his release. “So good,” she breathed. “So good.” With a sigh, she closed her eyes and let euphoria fill her body. Dimly, she felt him release her limbs and pick her up. Snuggling against his chest, she didn’t think life could get better. In the back of her mind came the thought that if he was in her life permanently then she could have this feeling every day. Every night. Her heartbeat quickened. His strength. His touch. His control when they were behind closed doors. Could she do that? Give him total power over her body when they were alone? 67
Abby Gordon
As he settled her in the middle of the bed before drawing her against him, she knew she could. She already had. With him, she’d done things she’d never imagined. Her eagerly sucking a man’s penis? Wouldn’t have happened before him. Her begging a man to fuck her? Had never happened. Her wanting to be fucked in the ass? Inconceivable, until now. She wanted him to do what he wanted with her. She trusted him like she’d never trusted Kevin. That thought startled her so much she started to sit up. “What is it?” he asked, instantly alert. “Does the plug hurt?” “No,” she whispered, shaken by the revelation. “It’s fine. Honest.” She settled back down and felt the weight of his arm at her waist. Comforted, she put her arm over it and closed her eyes. “It’s just I just realized something.” “What’s that?” “I trust you more than I ever trusted Kevin. I mean, I dated the man for eight months. I had sex with him a few times…” “A few times?” he interrupted. “Are you serious? The man could have had you in his bed for eight months and only took you a few times?” He went up on his elbow to look down at her. “How many is a few times?” She frowned, trying to remember. “Maybe nine or ten,” she finally said. “I was doing several long overseas shoots at first, but as we seemed to get more serious, I cut back on those. This last one in Fiji I asked him to come with me. I thought it would be wildly romantic.” She grimaced. “You know, the whole walk on the beach in the moonlight on a tropical island and…” She sighed. “My mom watched a lot of black and white classic movies. From Here to Eternity was one of my favorites.” 68
Model Fantasy
“But Kevin said he couldn’t?” “Fully booked with all sorts of meetings and who knows what his father would need him to do,” she muttered. “Now I know just what he considers a ‘meeting.’ He must have been giving Delilah an upclose-and-personal briefing.” “I can understand the excuse of having meetings,” he started. “But,” he gave her a stern look when she started to protest, “not about cheating on you.” He frowned. “Who is this Delilah anyway?” “She’s another model,” Francine replied, nestling back against his chest. “Young and fresh is how everyone is describing her. Red hair, green eyes, freckles, and she’s got her own boobs.” “What?” He frowned. “You lost me on that last part.” She smiled slightly even as she felt her eyes fill. She blinked rapidly to beat back the tears. “Most models are so underweight that we don’t have enough body fat to have much in our chest area. Delilah has a cup size more than most of us. And it’s natural as opposed to silicone.” “Hey,” he murmured. His hand caressed her with comfort that brought more tears to her eyes. She looked up at him and felt a tear slip out of the corner of her eye. “I know I shouldn’t be jealous, but all my life, I’ve wanted…” “Shh,” He shook his head. “Don’t think about what some insecure little girl might or might not have. I don’t know who she is, but I can’t imagine she will ever have the ability to turn a man on just by looking at a two-page spread in a business journal.” His hand covered a breast and his fingers tugged on the rosy nipple. “I can still remember the first time I saw it. I was having lunch with friends and three of them were talking about it. One pulled 69
Abby Gordon
out the magazine and I got hard just thinking about dominating you sexually.” His hand went to her hip. “When Bron called me, I almost jerked off listening to you describe some of the very things I’d been wanting to do to you for four years.” The hand went to her pussy. “I got you in my bed as fast as I could, sweetheart. I can’t keep my hands off of you.” “He told Delilah I was an ice queen,” Francine whispered, feeling the pain anew. “He had hinted before that…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “He fucked my ass the first time we had sex. It hurt so much I couldn’t sit down for days and it was hard to move. He said it was my fault…that I was a tease and I got what I deserved.” “Bullshit,” he replied calmly although anger sparked his eyes. “You are one hot, sexy lady.” She shook her head. Gently he brushed the tears off her cheeks. “That fucking asshole. He’s a bully who doesn’t deserve to be called a man,” he muttered. He rolled her onto her back and on top of her. “Listen to me. Think of everything that’s happened in the past few hours. He didn’t know how to turn you on. Hell, he didn’t even try, did he?” She shook her head, although the tears continued. “Shh, sweetheart,” he whispered, cuddling her close. “He’s not worth even one of your tears. Or another moment’s thought from you.” Nodding, she tried to calm herself and accept the comfort he was offering. After several minutes, she was relaxed and pressed her lips against his collarbone. “We never finished our shower,” she whispered, her palm sliding down his body. Her fingers wrapped around his cock. “I wanted to do this in the shower.” “Do what in the shower?” he managed to say as her thumb teased the slit on his dick. “Jesus, 70
Model Fantasy
woman, you’ve got me hard and dripping already.” She wriggled her hips and blew him a kiss. “I wanted to suck your cock. I could just imagine what it would be like.” She gave him a coy look. “Me kneeling and sucking on you while the water hit everything and made things all slippery and wet.” He groaned as she began stroking him. “Let’s see just how slippery and wet things are.” His hand found her pussy and a finger slid inside. She moaned and lifted her hips as if to pull him in. “I think I’ve become a sex addict,” she commented. “Mmm, a Nymphomaniac.” He smiled. “I like that.” “Will you still respect me in the morning if I beg you to fuck me again?” “Absolutely,” he whispered, plunging two fingers fully into her. “Please, master, fuck me. Fuck me now.” “I think I need to return the favor of sucking,” he smiled, moving to kneel between her legs. “Sucking…” She caught her breath. “Oh, no. I won’t last. I’ll be begging…” “That’s the best part,” he murmured. “I love hearing you beg me to fuck you. There aren’t too many sweeter things a man can hear.” In minutes, he was hearing many sweet things. His lips and hands explored her body and had her pleading for more. His hands covered her peachsized breasts and played with them until her nipples were aching and she was begging him to suck them. Focused on her pleasure, he smiled as she came in his mouth, her pussy clutching his fingers. The butt plug slipped partially out and he pulled it from her. “You all right?” he asked. Francine opened her eyes, sure that she saw the stars spinning before her. 71
Abby Gordon
“Yeah. Silk,” she managed. “What happened?” “You lost something,” he told her, holding up the plug. “And I think we need to correct your manners.” “Why?” She frowned, having trouble focusing on his face. “You need to call me either…” “Master or sir.” She nodded, sighing as the waves of pleasure held her aloft. “Sorry. I’ll remember from now on. It’s just…” She sighed. “You’re very good at distracting me and making me forget.” He opened his mouth, but her stomach rumbled and he chuckled instead. “When was the last time you ate?” he wondered as the sound came again. “Oh, how embarrassing,” she murmured, one hand covering her flat stomach. “Um, I think it was breakfast in Fiji.” She frowned, trying to figure out how many hours. And gave up. “A while ago.” Grant dropped a swift kiss on her forehead before getting out of bed. “Let me get you something. I had the fridge stocked with things.” Opening the door, he glanced over at her. “Are you allergic to anything?” “Not a thing,” she replied, pulling the sheet over her body. “Now you get modest?” he commented. “After everything I’ve done to you? Not to forget that billboard and the swimsuit editions the past few years.” “That’s different,” she protested. “I mean, none of that is personal. Like this is.” He pulled out a fruit cocktail and a half gallon of milk. Easily, he moved around the tiny kitchen, spooning out the fruit, pouring milk into two glasses and putting everything away. Setting the dishes on a tray, he returned to the bed. “So, this is personal?” he murmured. “How?” “Of course, this is personal.” She took the glass 72
Model Fantasy
of milk from him. “I’m not having sex with everyone who sees my picture. Just you.” “For now.” The hurt that flashed in her eyes made him wish he’d left the words unsaid. But he couldn’t say the words he knew would soothe the pain. Pain on top of the humiliation she was already feeling. All he could think of was what he’d vowed so long ago about not letting a woman get too close. Or ever being the target of the paparazzi again. “For now,” she agreed, nodding slightly. In silence, she drank the milk and picked up the bowl of fruit. Unable to stand it, he tried to lighten the mood with talk. “So, what was your favorite subject in college?” Startled, she looked at him and blushed. “I took the GED a couple years ago,” she whispered, poking her spoon at the fruit. “The agency signed me when I was sixteen, so I didn’t finish high school. I got good grades, though,” she added quickly, lifting her head and meeting his watchful gaze as if he was questioning her intelligence. “And I’m a voracious reader,” she added with a smile at the multi-syllable word. “Of the classics?” he asked. “Like the movies?” She smiled and nodded. He felt relief at finding a safe topic. “I love Shakespeare, Browning, Austen, Dante, Donne, and…” “I wouldn’t worry about the high school thing,” he managed, shaking his head. “You might be better read than several people I know with MBAs.” “Different course of study. Although I am learning about finances and real estate as I invest,” she pointed out. “Oh, and I love to read Little Bear, Harold and the Purple Crayon, and the Very Hungry Caterpillar. Along with all the Dr. Seuss books.” “Harold and the Caterpillar?” he frowned. “You 73
Abby Gordon
lost me.” “I read to Alec. He’s my financial advisor’s son. He’s three and a half and just the smartest little boy.” She beamed. “Before I left for Fiji, he read to me. Green Eggs and Ham. Didn’t miss a word either.” She scooped up the last piece of pineapple. “Lily and Rose were so proud of him.” “Who?” “Lily Lexington, she’s my advisor. And Rose Custis.” Swallowing the fruit, she dabbed at the juice that dribbled down her chin. “Rose…” “I know who Rose is,” he said quietly. Brody’s pain at Rose’s betrayal appeared before him. His friend had gotten so trashed that day that Ben had called on Boone to help get him home. “And Lily. Lily said Alec was Brody’s son. Rose took Lily’s side over her own brother’s.” “Maybe there’s more to the story than you think,” Francine replied, surprised at the anger in his voice. “Alec looks like he could be Rose’s son. Given that…” “Any child can have blond hair and blue eyes,” he cut in coldly. “Brody’s quite sure that Lily’s child is another man’s. He wouldn’t say that without absolute certainty.” Francine felt as if ice water had been poured over her. He wasn’t even going to listen to her. Brody was his friend and that was all there was to it. Lily’s words about the father of her child didn’t matter. And in their situation? She stiffened at the next logical thought and set the bowl firmly on the tray. “Are you implying that I would try to get pregnant and say it was yours?” She scrambled off the bed before he could move. “What a low opinion you have for women, or is it just me because I’m a model and nothing more than a sex object to you?” Whirling around, she headed for the door. He 74
Model Fantasy
was on her in an instant. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he demanded, hands grabbing her upper arms. “What is your problem?” “Lily’s never asked Brody for a thing,” Francine whispered, shaking her head. Tears came to her eyes at what her friend had been going through. “Never. He hurt her, but instead of lashing out at him, she took care of Rose and Ellie. She did everything she could to keep things quiet.” “Rose sided against her brother,” he said stubbornly. “Who the hell is Ellie?” “Because he’s wrong! He won’t…” “Enough,” he said sharply. “Lily and Rose are my friends,” she replied with quiet dignity. “And Ellie is a cousin who was affected by what Brody did.” “Francine, Brody is a good friend of mine. I’ve seen what he went through.” He put two fingers over her lips. “There is probably more to the story than either of us know. Certainly, it’s something they have to work out. Not us,” he emphasized. She just looked at him warily. He shook his head. “I don’t think you would do that. Try to trap me or anything else.” Almost immediately, he felt her resistance lessen beneath his hands. Slowly, half-afraid she would bolt for the door again, he stroked her arms and drew her against him. Breathing in the sweet smell of her, he felt peace seep into him. Peace? When the hell had he last felt peace? He couldn’t remember, much less figure out why he suddenly felt that way with her. It was a dangerous emotion and he didn’t deal well with emotions. Time to get the damn conversation back to a safer topic. Although, all things considered, how on earth was he supposed have known she’d get so emotional? 75
Abby Gordon
“Let’s continue our talk a bit more comfortably,” he suggested. Picking her up, he carried her to the bed. Taking the tray to the counter, he stretched out beside her and held her. He could feel her body stiffen as he stroked her. With a sigh, he closed his eyes. Women! So damned emotional! And so damn likely to turn cold after an argument in which they’d lost. “What…” She swallowed and took a deep breath. “What do you like to read? Do you like movies?” “I will admit to not having picked up a classical work since English lit my freshman year of college,” he drawled, impressed by her determination to move on. “Dickens bores the hell out of me and I had severe problems with the so-called ‘modern’ classics. Most of my library consists of mystery and action thrillers. And every Clancy novel I can get my hands on.” He felt her relaxing. “Movies? The rare classic can be bearable. Bogart, of course. I can watch anything he’s in. He’s in a category all by himself. Recent movies?” He smiled. “About the same as my books. I know it’s the elite thing to say you saw this or that independent movie that won some film festival award, but they are so full of themselves that…” “You fall asleep five minutes in?” She grinned. “If I make it that far.” He nodded. “I guess I’m the stereotypical male in that I like action flicks. The more car crashes and explosions per minute, or hot women, the better.” He caressed her back and cupped her ass cheek. “How about you?” “Stereotypical female...I love the period pieces with valiant women trying to civilize the men around them.” She smiled. “Although, I do have a weakness for James Bond.” “Oh, dear God, help me.” He grimaced. “Let me guess. You swooned over the new one coming out of 76
Model Fantasy
the ocean in his bathing suit.” “Duh.” She laughed. “I don’t know of any woman who didn’t.” She ran her hands over his shoulders and down his chest. “You would give him a run for his money,” she murmured. “You want to reenact that scene for me? I can promise a much different ending.” “I don’t remember how that one ended,” he confessed. “Mm? Really?” she whispered, stretching out on top of him. She reached out and plucked a condom from the pile on the nightstand. “Well, we can always pretend you’ve already emerged and I’ve pulled the bathing suit off of you…” “And we managed to not get arrested for indecent exposure and get inside…” Her mouth covered his and he promptly forgot what they’d been discussing. He had a hot woman on top of him and she wanted him. Did life get any better than this? Francine sat up, straddling him. Heat in her eyes, she rolled the condom over his cock. Her hands at his base, she positioned her pussy over him. Slowly, she lowered herself over his pulsing erection. Watching the erotic expression on her face, he amended his previous thought. This was the best thing in life. Raising his hands, he fondled her breasts. She arched forward, moaning. “More,” she breathed. “Ride me, sweetheart. Ride me hard. I want to watch your face as you come.” **** Francine woke in what was quickly becoming their customary position—she was tucked against him, his right bicep beneath her head and his left arm around her waist holding her to him. His left leg was usually over at least her right leg, if not both. As if he was afraid she’d slip out of bed and out of 77
Abby Gordon
the room. As if! She snuggled back against his chest. And felt the butt plug when she shifted. He’d put in the largest one, telling her that the next thing in her ass would be his cock. Preparing her, he’d pulled her to all fours on the bed and fucked her from the rear. Clutching the pillows, she closed her eyes and felt herself overcome by orgasms ripping through her. It had been the most erotic so far. And, she held her breath, he was still in her. Every other time, he’d pulled out before falling asleep. Ironically, after the brief argument, it was as if they’d gained a new level of trust between them. This time, saying he wanted to be inside her without barriers, he’d forgone the condom. As if sensing the thought, he rolled to his back, his softened penis slipping free of her heat. His arm held her close to him. She smiled. It was as if even though his cock was out of her, he had to make sure she was near enough to possess. Closing her eyes, she fought the emotions. He didn’t like emotions. She’d figured that out quickly. And, as he’d reminded her more than once, they were together only for sex. She would never know his name and if they did, by some wild coincidence, run into each other, she would have to pretend she didn’t know him. How the hell she was supposed to act like she didn’t know the man who’d possessed her body in every way possible was beyond her, but she knew she would have to. She would have to be the Ice Queen Kevin had called her. Otherwise, she would fall at his feet and beg him to fuck her where they were. She could imagine the look of horror on his face at such a display. He’d obviously had to deal with women like that and would hate any further publicity. She nibbled her lower lip. There was something familiar about him, similar to someone she knew. She tried to remember, but couldn’t. She couldn’t 78
Model Fantasy
remember seeing him in the papers the last few years, but then, she reminded herself, not every CEO courted publicity the way Trump did. She frowned. Why was she so sure he was a CEO or something? Because of the way he acted, moved, thought and carried himself. She’d been around enough to know that there was something indefinable about men who had a certain power, money, breeding and education. Which left her out of his circle entirely. She’d had to spill the beans about not graduating from high school. Oh, that was smart! He’d probably already known and been testing her to see if she would make something up to impress him. At least he knew she wouldn’t lie to him, she sighed. The chances of her ever running into him again were slim to none. Unless she turned stalker or something. She grinned. She could always ask Rose or Heather if they knew him. Although trying to find out about a man when she didn’t know his first name would be hard to explain. Rose was so focused on making Brody pay for his treatment of Lily, and Heather was so busy keeping Rose and Jasmine out of trouble that neither would be of much help. Certainly she couldn’t ask Jasmine. Jasmine. Francine nearly groaned. Good lord, that girl could get into trouble just by walking across the street. Jasmine, Francine thought darkly, would benefit from someone like master. Not this man, but her own. That brought her thoughts back to the man holding her. It didn’t make much sense. Barely twenty-four hours ago she had been convinced all men were worthless assholes and she’d be better off becoming a nun. One man had turned her world upside-down and broken her heart. Another had shown her a world she’d never dreamt of, and a hunger in herself that she’d never imagined. Erotic, 79
Abby Gordon
dark and sweet. She sighed, knowing that she only had a few more hours with him. The entire adventure would be nothing more than something to dream about as she played with her vibrator. But she would make damn sure she got something from every minute left. Reaching a hand down, she brushed his penis and smiled as it twitched to life. “You remember what I said earlier?” a husky voice asked. A shiver of delicious anticipation raced up and down her spine. “Yes, master,” she whispered. “You said that next time I touched your cock without permission that you would spank me and…” “Fuck your ass,” he growled as her fingers wrapped around the hard length now jutting up from its bed of dark hair. “While you were gagged, blindfolded, and had a dildo in your pussy.” “Yes, master.” She swallowed. This was it. She would be at his complete sexual mercy. Her pussy clenched as moisture flooded it. Her nipples tightened. “I understand.” “Get on the spanking bench, slave,” he ordered. “Yes, master.” He lifted his arm and leg and she scrambled off the bed.
80
Model Fantasy
Chapter Seven Through the partially open door, Grant watched her drape her body over the upper support of the spanking bench in the middle of the room. Dylan had thought he was insane when he’d ordered a silk cover. As much as he’d used the apparatus, silk had been an excellent idea. The woman loved it! Leather would have been too much for her delicate skin. He hadn’t spanked her so hard that marks lasted more than half an hour, but the way she wriggled told him how hot it made her. Control and discipline with a sub were key. Slowly getting out of bed, he went to the bathroom. He opened the medicine cabinet and saw the clock. Only four hours left. He had her only four more hours. He couldn’t believe the time had gone so quickly. Once he fucked her ass he’d done everything he’d planned, But he wanted to do more. He wanted… Flushing the toilet, he scowled and shook his head. No! He was not going to go down that road. This was a one-time thing. Fling. Affair. Whatever the term was. It would be over in four hours. Soaking a washcloth, he grabbed a towel on his way out. Striding through the bedroom, he paused in the doorway. And felt his cock rise, ready to go again. She turned her head to look at him and smiled. “Am I in the right position, master?” Nodding, he went behind her and pulled the plug out. She sighed as he cleaned her ass. “I never 81
Abby Gordon
thought a man cleaning my ass before he fucked me there would be so…” “So what?” “It’s almost as intimate as the actual act,” she said softly. “I’m not sure how else to describe it.” Tossing the washcloth and towel toward the door, he secured her ankles and wrists to the brackets. Smiling, he went to the cabinet and got the items he needed—blindfold, gag, dildo, harness, and lubricant. And the paddle. “Such a sweet slave,” he whispered. “But you’ve been disobedient, haven’t you?” Her body trembled as he ran his hand down her back. “You’ve talked back, teased me, touched my cock when I told you not to, and argued with me.” She shook her head. “Yes, you did. I like a sub with spirit and intelligence, but that was going a bit too far. We’re almost out of time, sweetheart,” he murmured in her ear. “And there’s one thing left to do.” He held the dildo before her eyes. She moaned, realizing it was nearly as large as his erection. And when he fucked her ass? She could see the anticipation in his eyes. “It will be as close to two men fucking you as it can get,” he told her. His teeth nipped her ear. “But I’ll be the only one to hear your moans and screams of pleasure.” He tapped her ass with the dildo. “I’m going to fuck your ass.” She nodded. “Do you remember the first thing I did to you on the bench?” Another nod. “Brace yourself, sweetheart. I’m going to spank you until you have four orgasms, then I’m fucking your ass.” She pressed her cheek against the support. 82
Model Fantasy
Instinct told her that this would be the last time he fucked her. She wanted to savor every second of it. She wanted to have it all so implanted in her mind that she could reenact it and relive every touch. His fingers tested her. As always when he touched her, her pussy was dripping. She smiled at his approving murmur. She felt the blunt end of the dildo press against her tight hole. “Deep breath,” he told her. “Relax as you exhale. Push out slightly.” Closing her eyes, she focused and did as he’d said. She felt her body resist under the steady pressure. Then the dildo slipped past the outer ring of muscle and was fully in her. In seconds, he secured it with the harness. She took a shuddering breath, marveling at how full she felt. And when his erection was there? And he was thrusting in and out of her? She moaned. “Master?” “Very good, sweetheart,” he said quietly, picking up the blindfold. She held her breath as he covered her eyes. When he pressed the ball against her lips, she opened her mouth and felt him fasten the strap against her hair. He was careful not to catch any stray strands in the catch. “Now, don’t think of anything but what your body is feeling.” The paddle smacked her right cheek, startling her out of the haze. Francine struggled to breathe as the spankings came harder and faster than anything he’d done in their time together. What was happening? Had she done something wrong after all? Unable to say her safe word, she wriggled her head, hoping he’d stop or change. As if realizing what was happening, he changed the tempo and intensity. As she’d learned to do, she inhaled slowly, held it a few seconds and exhaled. He 83
Abby Gordon
must have done that to make her focus, or to get her attention or to remind her just who was in charge. As if she could forget that! Her lips curved around the ball as she slipped back into the erotic haze. The dildo in her pussy began to tremble and she tightened her muscles around it. She moaned as it heated up and vibrated more. She rubbed her clit against the silk, not caring if he saw and didn’t like it. She was just on the edge and… A perfectly placed smack and she was soaring. Even as she saw stars beneath the blindfold, he was pushing her higher. Gasping, she fought for air. For sanity. For something real to hold onto. That was as impossible as unwanted. With a muffled cry, she felt the heat overwhelm her again. She trembled, sobbing at the adrenaline surging through her body. To her overcharged brain, there seemed to be a brief respite. If there was, it was only a few seconds. Then he was working her body again. A hand caught her nipple and pinched. The new sensation jolted her mind and body and her pussy took over. Another orgasm swept through her and she struggled to breathe. A caress along her back, soft, soothing. Then the paddle came down just above her anus. Francine’s body came off the bench as every muscle tightened. She landed, panting. Some part of her was aware of him pulling the dildo out of her ass. She heard him ripping open a condom packet. Covered with lube, his finger circled her small hole, then slid fully in before pulling out of her. This was it. She took the deep breaths as he’d told her to. His hands were on her hips and she felt the tip brush her anus. As if from a distance, coming through a waterfilled tunnel, she heard his voice. “Mine, sweetheart. You’re fucking mine.” He pushed his cock into her ass and she gasped. Thank God he’d prepared her using the plugs! 84
Model Fantasy
Slowly, inch by filling inch, he stretched her. Instinctively, her muscles clamped around him to keep him out. She wanted him to do this, but couldn’t help her reaction. “Another deep breath and push out,” he reminded her. Obeying, she felt the muscles relax. She moaned as his cock pushed all the way in. For a long moment, he didn’t move as her body adjusted. Small spasms rippled through her. She felt his mouth on her shoulder and relaxed completely. This was her master. He wouldn’t hurt her. He would only give her pleasure even as he pushed her sexually. “That’s my girl.” His deep voice wrapped around her. Holding her hips still, he stroked in and out of her. With the dildo in her pussy, there wasn’t much wiggle room and she couldn’t believe how the sensations played off each other. She was stuffed like…her brain shut down, refusing to work, unable to process everything that was happening to the body. The body just accepted what he was doing, knowing it would feel good. No, it would feel greater than anything in paradise. She hadn’t thought she could have an orgasm when fucked in the ass. Now, as his cock stretched and filled her, the dildo vibrating madly in her pussy, she knew she was going to. And the way things were building up, this was going to be the biggest one she’d ever had. His heavy body rested on hers a moment. “Baby, you are so damn sexy,” he groaned. “Your ass is as tight and sweet inside as it is outside.” The gag was pulled out of her mouth and tossed aside. “I want to hear you scream as you come, sweetheart. I want to hear your pleasure.” She panted, trying to fill her lungs. He pulled out and rammed back in. She cried out, knowing she 85
Abby Gordon
couldn’t handle much more, yet wanting everything he could give her. His hand went to her clit. “What do you want?” he asked. “What do you want?” “Fuck me,” she begged. “Please. Fuck my ass. My pussy. My mouth. Wherever you want. Please, master.” “Oh, yes,” he growled. “My sweet slave.” His fingers rubbed her clit and she gasped. It was coming. She was coming and… She felt as if she’d touch a live high voltage wire. From head to toe, her body tingled and her muscles suddenly clenched, then the massive energy was released. Throwing her head back, she screamed as the orgasm tore through her body. He wasn’t finished and with each stroke, new ripples rushed through her. With a final heave, his dick pulsed, filling the condom. He practically collapsed on top of her. “Oh, yeah,” he murmured. “God, you are a sweet piece.” Murmuring incoherently, she sighed and felt satisfied exhaustion take over. She didn’t remember him working the buckles to free her wrists and ankles. Or the way he pulled the dildo from her pussy, teasing her clit and giving her another orgasm. In the haziness of a dream, she remembered him carrying her to the shower and carefully, almost tenderly, washing her from headto-toe. He rubbed lotion all over her, gently combed out her long hair and held her as she drifted off to sleep. **** Francine blinked, waking slowly. The first thing she noticed was that she was alone in bed. It was cold. She opened her eyes and looked towards the bathroom. The door was open and it was dark. Fighting back reality, she sat up. Seeing the two women from before, she bit back a protest, a denial. 86
Model Fantasy
There was no point. It was over. In a daze, she stood and let them dress her. She stepped into her shoes and let them lead her down the hallway. Without a word, they put her in the elevator and entered a code. Tears filled her eyes as she felt the elevator move. He hadn’t said goodbye. He hadn’t wanted to… Biting her lower lip, she struggled to hold back the sobs that threatened. She would not cry. She would not break down over a man whose name she didn’t even know. The doors opened and she saw the Lexus, the passenger door open. Whimpering, wishing she could somehow go back to the two rooms where she’d found heaven, she forced her feet to move. The door closed behind her and the car moved forward. When the car stopped, the door opened and she saw that they were in the hotel’s parking area. The driver extended his hand to help her out, and put her purse in her lifeless hands. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Take care of yourself, miss.” Nodding, she went toward the elevator, feeling like she was sleepwalking. Securing her room door, she stumbled to the bedroom. Pulling her dress off, she collapsed on the bed. And the tears came. Great, big, huge, gasping sobs racked her body. Her fingers scrabbled at the bedspread, pulling it over her chilled body. She clutched the pillow to her chest and curved over it as the grief took over. This hurt more than Kevin’s betrayal; this gutted her. She couldn’t imagine feeling more pain than what she was feeling at that moment.
87
Abby Gordon
Chapter Eight Monday afternoon, Grant fastened his seatbelt, opened his briefcase and stared at the folders inside. Around him, other first class passengers settled into their seats. Reviewing German contracts was about the last thing he wanted to do. He knew the importance of the deal he was about to close, but he sure as hell didn’t want to be doing it just then. All he wanted to do was instruct Francine on being his submissive. He wanted to see her body draped over the spanking bench, or spread out on the St. Andrew’s cross, or his bed. He wanted to put her in the sling and play with the pulleys until she was just the right height for whatever he wanted to do to her. He wanted to see his cock disappear into her—mouth, pussy or ass, it didn’t matter. He’d fuck her until they were both satisfied, and then he’d curl around her sweet body and feel her relax in his arms as she slept. He wanted to talk to her about his business deal, about her next shoot, about… He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “You okay, there, buddy?” the man next to him asked, leaning forward slightly. “’Cause you don’t look so good.” “I’m fine,” he managed to reply. “Fine, just a bit of a headache all of a sudden.” “My wife gets those,” the older man offered. “Especially this time of year with the cold. The humidity drives her crazy.” He caught the attention of the first-class steward. “You have any mint tea? And honey? This man’s got a bit of a headache.” 88
Model Fantasy
“Of course, Mr. Nelson,” she nodded. “Mr. Franklin? Are you all right?” “Fine,” he replied, wishing he could hear another voice worried about him. Sipping the tea out of politeness, Grant watched the ground crew load the last suitcases. She would be worried about him. She would want to take care of him. Fix him something to eat or drink. Rub his temples or… He smiled, glad he wasn’t facing the cabin. She would rub something else to get his mind off his headache. That or distract him in some other way. “All finished, sir?” The attendant was back. “We’re making final preparations for take off.” “Yes. Thank you.” He nodded, handing her the mug. To his surprise, he realized his headache was nearly gone. “Your wife teach you that trick?” Nelson nodded sagely. “She can’t handle taking pills so she does everything she can to avoid them. She literally has to force them down her throat to get them down.” He grimaced. “When she actually does take one, I know she’s in pain.” “And you wish you were feeling it instead of her?” Grant asked quietly. Francine had said she had trouble swallowing pills because of her gag reflex. It was one reason she did the quarterly birth control shots. “Sure do,” the older man nodded. “The hardest part was watching her give birth.” He shuddered at the memory. “I don’t know how the hell women do it.” “How many children do you have?” And why the hell did the image of Francine with a swollen stomach come to mind? Of her smiling down at the curve that held his child? Why did the thought her lifting a light, fuzzy-haired infant to her breast make him ache for something he’d told himself he didn’t 89
Abby Gordon
want? “If you don’t mind my asking.” “Four, would you believe it?” He grinned. “She had four of my children. Last one came so damn quick we barely made it to the hospital. They got her on the gurney and, boom.” He snapped his fingers. “Right there in the emergency room doorway. The nurses were telling her not to push and my wife, who charges us all a quarter a swear word, swore a blue streak. She told the nurses what they could do with themselves, but she was having the baby right then and there and they could go to hell for all she cared.” Nelson laughed. “Oh, lord, but she was so embarrassed later when I teased her about it. Come to think of it,” he mused. “I don’t think she knew what half those words meant, but she sure knew how to string them together.” “Women are a lot stronger than men,” Grant commented. “I don’t think I could handle even half of what they go through. Especially those damn high heels.” “You got that right, son. And yet, when they complain about it, and you tell them not to wear them…” “They’ll say ‘but they’re so cute, or they go with the outfit.’” Grant nodded. “My cousin Heather does that.” “Exactly,” Nelson agreed, then sighed as he smiled. “I’d do anything for her, though. She could tell me the sky was green and the grass was blue and I’d believe her. And our kids? She could say ‘jump’ and they’d be fifteen feet off the ground before they thought to ask which way she wanted them to go.” “Must be one helluva woman.” “The best. I thank God every day I get to wake up with her in my arms.” Nelson smiled in deep satisfaction. “You find a woman like that, son, you don’t let her go. You hold onto her with everything 90
Model Fantasy
you’ve got.” Grant felt a stab in his heart. Shit. This man had just put to words what he’d been feeling since the day before. He hadn’t wanted to believe he could feel so much for a woman in so short a time. She hadn’t even tried to charm him. She’d just been herself and wiggled her sweet self into his heart. Last night he’d lowered himself to looking her up on the internet and found that Kevin MacLauren was the only man she’d been seen with out in public. And the man had cheated on her with another model. Grant looked up Delilah and studied the delicate features and the wide green eyes. Having been with Francine he couldn’t see any other woman holding a candle to her in the sexy category. Had he really treated her much better than MacLauren? Yes, he’d been clear the entire time that it was just sex. He could tell himself that the rest of his life if he wanted to. He hadn’t cheated on her but he’d left her alone in bed, knowing that would hurt her. He hadn’t wanted to, but he’d known that if he hadn’t left immediately then he’d still be under the covers with her. And it hadn’t just been sex. Francine was sensitive, caring, and feisty. She’d had warmth, intelligence for all her embarrassment about not graduating from high school, and loyalty to her friends despite his anger. In short order, he’d had his perfect woman and walked away from her. “What if you did?” he whispered. “What if you walked away from the most perfect woman for you that you’ve ever met?” “Hunt her down and make sure she knows you’ll never make a dumbass mistake like that again,” advised Nelson. “And always make sure you apologize first. Doesn’t matter if you screwed it up or it was a mutual mistake. You be the man and own 91
Abby Gordon
up to it.” Leaning back, he waggled his finger at Grant. “Trust me. Women have memories like elephants. My wife and I have gotten into some knock-down, drag-out arguments and she can pull up things I screwed up thirty years ago and have me apologizing all over again.” He winked. “Of course, the make-up sex is hotter than anything in the world. I think we’ve set off the smoke alarm a couple times.” Grant grinned. “I think I’ll take your advice, Mr. Nelson,” he murmured. “After I disconnect the smoke alarm.” Nelson chuckled. “You do that, son. You do that.” **** Tuesday afternoon, Francine sashayed down the runway. Pausing at the end, she thrust her left hip out, put her left hand on it, and raised her right hand with the label for the flavored water positioned for the cameras. Smiling at the center camera, she purred. “Under hot lights, you need something cool and refreshing to satisfy your thirst.” She smiled. “Four calories and a vitamin B-complex to help you get through the most stressful of days. Rush flavored water hits the spot like nothing else in the world.” Tilting her head back, she drank deeply. “Oh, now that’s perfect.” She sighed and looked at the camera. “Feel the Rush.” “Cut!” yelled the director. The extras behind her looked at him, waiting expectantly. He glanced at the lead motion photographer and the still cameraman. Beaming, they both gave a thumbs up. “That was good, ladies and gentlemen. We’ve got a wrap!” There were cheers throughout the studio. Francine relaxed and grinned. Sliding out of the four-inch heels, she hopped to the floor and padded 92
Model Fantasy
over to the director. “Good to go, Stan?” “Honey, that was perfect!” he grinned, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “Two fricking takes and you nailed it! Love you, babe. I just absolutely love you! Gerry,” he turned to his barely-into-histwenties assistant. “Try to get Francine in all our shoots from now on. Maybe she can teach others how to film a commercial inside an hour. I’ll take her over that reality star bitch any day of the week.” “You got it, boss,” nodded Gerry, winking at Francine. As Stan headed over to the two cameramen, he sighed happily. “Thank God for you,” he told her. “Last shoot a couple weeks ago? We had some temperamental diva making all sorts of demands. She wasn’t happy with anything and it took us four days to get enough for one thirty second commercial.” “You’re kidding,” Francine frowned. He shook his head. “Some people just believe their own publicity, I guess,” she shrugged. “I’m too damn grateful I don’t have to do a nine-to-five job or something. If people want to pay me to walk down a runway in their clothes or talk to a camera for fifteen seconds, I’ll do it. Within reason, of course,” she grinned. “Some things I draw the line at.” “Hey, is it true some of those porn magazines have offered you millions to pose nude?” he asked eagerly. “Yeah.” She nodded, finishing off the bottle. “That is over that line. Some things I just won’t do.” She looked around. “Where’s the recycling bin?” Francine headed off toward the dressing room, dropping her bottle in the bin as she passed. Carefully removing the designer dress, she hung it up and pulled on her own tee. Her cell phone rang and she pulled it from the compartment of her large 93
Abby Gordon
bag. “Hello?” “Baby, where have you been? I’ve been worried sick about you!” “Kevin, don’t even pull that on me!” She shook her head. “I saw you with her! I heard you! You proposed to me three weeks ago! I come back and find you…” “Well, maybe if you had been a real woman, I wouldn’t have needed someone else—” “Wait a minute! It is not my fault that you cheated on me. And as for my being a real woman, I don’t think you’re a real man. You never tried to take care of my physical needs and not once did you ever ask how I felt about something.” “You fucking bitch!” he snarled. “You stuck-up, pretentious little farm girl! You have no fucking idea who you’re dealing with. You get your ass over to my apartment right now or—” “No! It’s over, Kevin. I don’t want anything to do with you. I don’t want to see you ever again.” With a snarl, she snapped the phone closed and threw it at her bag. It bounced off the wall and fell to the floor. Shaking, she picked it up and put it where it belonged. Sitting on the narrow bench, she buried her face in her hands. And where did she belong? She desperately wanted to be with Master. She had felt whole with him, safe, protected, wanted, and desired. And respected. While he demanded her submission sexually, he’d respected her opinions. He’d listened to her. Even when she’d become irrational during their argument about Brody, Lily, and Rose. She put her hand over her stomach. She could just imagine being pregnant with his child. And his reaction? Closing her eyes, she rested her head back against the wall. He’d never said what he would do if she became pregnant. If for some reason the shot 94
Model Fantasy
failed and she became pregnant would he realize it was his? She had no way of contacting him, but would he realize it was his and reach out to her? She wanted to believe he would contact her, that he would want some sort of relationship. She wanted to believe he would want a relationship with his child. And her. But she didn’t know. And she wanted him to contact her without a child involved. Then she would know he wanted her. There was a knock on the door. “Just a second,” she answered quietly. Reaching for her jeans, she pulled them on. She opened the door. “Yes, Gerry?” Sitting back down, she slipped her feet into her boots and tugged them on. “You left your jacket out there,” he said softly, handing it to her. “Thank you,” she whispered, smoothing her hand over the soft leather. “You heard that?” “Yeah, sorry.” He nodded. “You don’t deserve to be treated that way. You deserve someone who’ll treat you right and never hurt you. On purpose at least,” he amended. “Men do stupid things, but cheating on a woman just isn’t right. Don’t take him back.” “I’m not going to,” she said in a low firm voice. “Thank you, Gerry.” She raised watery eyes to him. “I appreciate your kindness. I hope you find a woman who deserves you.” Slinging her hobo bag over her shoulder, she left the studio. Gerry leaned against the wall and sighed. **** The jazz theme echoed from the phone and Francine groaned. Stretching out her hand, she grabbed it off the nightstand. The clock told her it was four-thirty. “Jasmine, I realize you’re just going to bed, 95
Abby Gordon
but…” “You haven’t heard?” came the breathless voice. “Shit, it’s all over the clubs!” “What are you talking about? Jazzy, what did you do?” “I didn’t do anything! You did!” Francine bolted upright. Oh, shit, her brain froze. Someone had found out about that fantasy day. “Me? What? What did I do?” she managed to ask, praying she was wrong. “Word is all over the place that Kevin MacLauren caught you doing cocaine in his apartment and threw you out.” “What?” she shrieked. “I’ve never done drugs in my life!” “And Delilah is saying you tried to get her to do it with you.” “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Francine trembled in rage. “I came home from Fiji and found the two of them in bed together! I left and checked into the Franklin. I came home Sunday and threw everything of his into the trash.” “That’s not what everyone’s hearing,” Jasmine told her. “And, Frannie, it’s hit the press. It’s all over the tabloids and the internet.” “Oh, my God,” breathed Francine. “It’s all a lie. Everyone knows that. I can’t even take an aspirin, for cryin’ out loud! People know me. It’s ridiculous that anyone can believe that shit!” “I’m just telling you what I’m hearing.” Jasmine paused and a door closed. “Okay, I’m back in my place. I called Heather as soon as I found out. She’ll know what to do. Heather?” Her voice called out for her roommate. “We’ll figure something out.” “Jasmine, there shouldn’t be anything to figure out! I’ve never done drugs! I caught the two of them literally in the act and…” 96
Model Fantasy
“There’s more.” “More?” Francine gasped. “What more? How could there be more?” “Kevin’s saying you were spying for a competitor and took all the money from your joint account.” “What? What competitor? We never had a joint account! How? What…” She closed her eyes as her entire body trembled. “I don’t believe this. Jazzy, I… I—” “Heather!” Jasmine yelled. “She’s hyperventilating.” “Well, I don’t blame her one bit,” the calm voice replied. “Give me the phone.” There was hushed whispering and then Heather’s voice came on the phone. “Francine, it’s Heather. You don’t worry about a thing. My cousin, Bronson Franklin, is a lawyer. I’ve already called and left messages for him on his cell and at his office. He specializes in dealing with assholes like Kevin. You get some more sleep…” “Sleep?” Francine gasped. “How am I supposed to get back to sleep after this?” “I know, sweetie,” she soothed. “As soon as Bronson gets back to me, I’ll call you and take you to his office. Now, the best defense is a frontal attack, or something like that,” she said. “You are going to continue your normal routine.” “Okay.” Francine stared at the painting between her closet and bathroom doors. “I don’t have anything today except to get groceries. I was going to go to the gym, but…” “And you’ll go to a club with us tomorrow,” Heather told her. “And on Friday, you’ll go to my grandmother’s charity ball for breast cancer research. The girls and I will be with you every step of the way—” “No,” Francine shook her head frantically. “Not the charity ball! Kevin will be there!” 97
Abby Gordon
“Good,” Heather said stubbornly. “You are not going to hide from him. You’re going to hold your head up and dare him to repeat such trash to your face.” “Heather, he’s your cousin.” “Only by a strange, cruel twist of fate. It’s proof that God has a sense of humor,” she replied. “Really, Keith is the only one of my cousins on that side of the family I have any use for. Well, maybe Penny if she used her brain,” she muttered. “Heather, I can’t go to the charity—” “Yes, you will,” she insisted. “Now, you do have a gown, right?” “Yes, fairy godmother,” Francine sighed. When Heather got like this it was like being steamrolled. And Francine didn’t have the energy to argue with her, or come up with anything else to counter what Kevin had done. “I can’t believe this.” “I know,” sighed the other woman in sympathy. “But we’ll take care of him.” After an hour on her treadmill, another hour pushing her body with weights, she started doing yoga. All she managed to accomplish was to exhaust her body, while leaving her mind spinning at what she knew was happening. After a long hot shower, Francine pulled on a pair of jeans and a tee. She nibbled on some fruit and dared to turn the TV on. As she’d thought, the story was everywhere. More lurid and horrible than Jasmine or Heather had said. Snapping the set off, she tossed the remote back into its basket and tried to settle down with a book. Jane Austen had always been able to transport her to another world, but today the machinations of husband-seeking sisters didn’t do anything but remind her of what she was going through. “This is ridiculous,” she said to her empty apartment. “I’m tired of hiding.” 98
Model Fantasy
Putting on her boots, heavy coat and gloves, she grabbed her purse and headed for the corner market. Three paparazzi were waiting for her on the sidewalk. A feeling of dread knotted her stomach. Quickening her stride, she whisked through the store getting her produce, yogurt, and milk. As she reached the cereal aisle, there was a commotion outside. She nearly dropped the box in her hand. The front window was blocked by the crowds outside. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “This isn’t happening.” As she reached the cash register, the owner and manager appeared at her side. “We’ll make sure you get home, Francine,” he said quietly. “You know why they’re here?” she asked. He nodded. “My daughter called a few minutes ago. It’s all right. The people in the neighborhood know you better than that. We’ll take care of you.” “Thank you,” she whispered. “Jack, maybe we better take her through the back,” the manager suggested. “No.” She shook her head. “I’m not hiding. I haven’t done anything wrong.” “You heard the lady, Will.” It was a madhouse scramble walking the half block to her brownstone. A couple of teenage boys came to help the grocer and manager protect her. The doorman had seen the crowd and called two other staff members to hold the press back as she reached them. Safely inside her home, she put the food away and called Heather. “Maybe I should just hide?” she suggested. “They were like piranha just when I went to the grocery store!” “I saw,” Heather told her. “No quitting, Francine.” 99
Abby Gordon
“I might not have a choice,” she said bitterly. “My agent, Priscilla Adams, left a voice mail. She said the cosmetic company was considering dropping me and the soda company wasn’t sure if they would air or print the work we did yesterday.” “That’s nonsense,” Heather said briskly. “Now, we’ll be there in thirty minutes to go to my cousin’s office.” “Okay,” Francine replied weakly. “I can just imagine how this will look.” “You’re fighting back, Francine. You have to stand up to lies. I learned that from my cousin Grant years ago. If you don’t fight back, then the assholes of the world win. And you are not letting them win, do you hear me?” “Heather, why are you so adamant about this? Is this about me? Or you?” Francine frowned. There was a silence over the line and then a heavy sigh. “Yeah, it might be a little personal,” Heather admitted. “I’ve seen Kevin pull this shit too many times in my life. The fact that he’s doing it to a friend of mine just hits a little too close to home. You’re not alone in this, Francine. Your friends know the truth. And they’re defending you. I think Jasmine has done interviews with everyone she can get hold of. Some photo shoot assistant named Gerry said you were the most real celebrity he’d ever worked with and there was no way a lady, his words, could ever do what Kevin and Delilah are saying about you.” “Bless his heart.” Francine smiled, relaxing slightly. “Don’t bless ’em too soon,” Heather warned. “He said he overheard a phone conversation you had with Kevin yesterday afternoon. Gerry said that while you didn’t name the other woman that you were saying you’d found Kevin in bed with ‘her’ and 100
Model Fantasy
you wouldn’t put up with it.” “I don’t believe this,” she groaned. “Hey, I’m not crazy about personal arguments getting out like that, but in this case, it works out in your favor.” Heather paused. “Okay, Jasmine and I are leaving now to pick you up. Lily and Rose are going to meet us there.” “What?” Francine blinked. “I told you,” she said patiently. “You’re not going through this alone. Bronson’s already rallied his legal assistants to the case. I’ll call him and tell him to get hold of Priscilla. Now, change into a suit and we’ll be there in twenty to pick you up.” “Okay.” Francine closed the cell phone. Frowning, she felt like she was missing something. Why did those names sound familiar? She glared at the innocent sunflower painting as if it was hiding the answer. Dammit! She knew the answer was just out of reach if she could just have time to think. Knowing she barely had time to get ready, she hurried to her closet. Just what did one wear to a lawyer’s office to discuss legal strategy regarding libel and such? Something serious and classic, she decided. Now, where the hell was her grey silk suit? Hoping like crazy it wasn’t at the cleaner’s, she flipped through the hangers. Bingo! Triumphantly, she plucked it off the rack and studied her blouses. Something ladylike and soft? Pink always looked good on her, she mused, examining her favorite blouses. The small ruffles would do. Dressing swiftly, she went to her vanity and sat down. For once, she couldn’t decide what to do with her hair. Up or down? Braided? Or loose? Exasperated, she pulled it back into a ponytail secured at her nape and began to carefully apply her cosmetics. She would be the epitome of gentility, grace, strength, and serenity, she decided. Grace 101
Abby Gordon
Kelly would be her role model. If the paparazzi followed her, she would say ‘no comment’, as she had coming home from the grocer’s, but her face... She smiled at her reflection. Her face would show hurt, dignified hurt and shock that such things were being said about her. That her ex-fiancé had betrayed her. That she was being so vilified. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the closet, putting her wallet, cell phone, and lipstick in her grey Chanel purse. Pulling on her black wool coat and the colorful scarf her eight-year-old niece had made her for Christmas, she went to meet Heather and Jasmine. Francine was relieved to see that Heather was behind the wheel. Jasmine seemed to take great delight in giving her passengers heart attacks by driving like a bat out of hell. She also used driving to vent her emotions. Given that sparks were flying out of the brown eyes as the paparazzi swarmed the car, Francine had a feeling there would be bodies in the street if her fellow model was driving. “Getting out of here could be difficult,” Francine swallowed, staring out at the swarm of bodies. “I don’t think so,” Heather smiled, rolling her window down. “Okay, folks,” she called out. “Two choices here. You can get out of my way or I can run you over.” Several people stared at her. Francine grimaced. “Yeah, right!” one jeered. “Count of three,” Heather said easily, moving her foot to the gas pedal. “One, two…” The car started moving forward and there was a scramble to get out of the way. “And to think I was glad you were driving instead of Jasmine,” Francine muttered. In the backseat, Jasmine whooped and slapped Francine’s shoulder. “She gave them a warning. You think I would 102
Model Fantasy
have?” “Not hardly,” Heather grinned, going around the corner. “You look perfect, Frannie. Now, Bronson agrees with our PR plan of going out tonight and you coming to the ball on Friday. No hiding. You haven’t done anything wrong.” “Truth doesn’t matter these days,” Francine shook her head. “Everything is perception. And who gets their story out first.” “The public is a lot smarter than given credit,” corrected Heather. “As soon as Gerry started talking about what he overheard, things started to change.” “Hey!” Jasmine protested. “I helped.” Francine listened to their banter as they left the car and rode the elevator. Her mind was trying to focus on the meeting, but kept going to the previous weekend. All she wanted was a pair of strong arms around her. Her memories went to when he’d tied her to the St. Andrew’s cross. Closing her eyes, she remembered that feeling of safety and security. Nothing could have hurt her in that moment. The world would have had to go through his strong body and she’d known he would never let that happen. Desperately, she wanted to feel that again. Despair filled her as she thought of his reaction to the day’s events. Given the little he’d said, he’d been avoiding any sort of publicity for years. Any hope of him sending her another card had evaporated into thin air when Kevin and Delilah’s lies hit the press. She moaned softly. “Frannie?” Jasmine whispered, concern all over her usually wild, live for the moment features. “Is there anything else we can do?” The elevator doors slid open. “I mean, we can spread some wild stories about them. Hey, I know.” Her eyes lit up. “We could geld him.” “I don’t think that’ll be necessary, Jazzy.” Francine choked out a short laugh. 103
Abby Gordon
“Just a little bit?” she coaxed, wanting more of a smile. “Heather,” a deep voice started. “I hope you don’t have anything sharper than plastic knives in your apartment.” She knew that voice! Memory flooded her—the dimly lit bar, two men on either side of her,.. and a phone. Lifting her head, Francine opened her eyes and stared at the knowing eyes from the bar. On either side of the broad-shouldered man were Rose Custis and Lily Lexington. But all Francine could think of was that this man knew more about her than anyone but Master. She didn’t know whether to be terrified or glad that someone knew that secret.
104
Model Fantasy
Chapter Nine At Bronson’s insistence the other women waited outside so they were alone in his office. Uncertain of how to broach the subject, she let him guide her to a large wingback chair of buttery soft burgundy leather. Going to the side credenza, he got her a cup of tea and then stood behind his desk, looking out the window at the Manhattan skyline. Suddenly filled with nervous energy, she put the teacup back in the saucer with a clatter. “Have you told anyone?” she asked bluntly. “I’m not likely to do that,” he replied with a brief shake of his head. “I’m surprised you’re not pissed. We practically pimped you out.” “Not quite.” She shook her head. “If my memory is correct, and I’ll admit it’s a bit hazy, I told you my fantasies. You simply passed those on to someone who made them come true.” He cleared his throat as if not wanting to go any further, but she had to push. She had to ask questions while she had the chance. Before the others returned to join them. “Do you know him well? What will he say about all this? Does he know? Of course he knows,” she muttered. “I think the whole world knows. He’ll never want anything to do with me, will he? He…he didn’t say much, but from what he did tell me, I know he doesn’t like anything to do with publicity or the paparazzi.” She struggled to control the tears. She hated crying, hated being emotional. The tears slid down her cheeks anyway. Bowing her head, she tried to 105
Abby Gordon
regain control. She heard him moving and then a box of tissues appeared on her lap. Gratefully, she pulled several free and dabbed at her face. After a few minutes, she lifted her face, back to normal. “Sorry,” she whispered. “You’ve been on a bit of a rollercoaster the last few days,” he said quietly. “It’s understandable. And as to your questions,” he leaned against the desk, stretching his long legs out beside her chair, “yes, I know him well. I admire him greatly, as a man, as a businessman, as someone who has mentored me in business and…” There was a slight hesitation. “As a Dom.” He nodded at her startled look. “Yes, and I’m trusting you not to say anything about that either. I haven’t talked to him since that night in the bar, so I’ve no idea what he thinks about this. I will not presume to guess his thoughts or reaction to this.” “You won’t tell me his name, will you? Or how to contact him? Even to just get a message to him?” “No.” He shook his head. “And this situation has nothing to do with why I won’t. If he wants you to know who he is, then he will tell you. If he wants to contact you, then he will. It is his decision.” “And because of all this, he won’t,” she stated simply, her shoulders slumping. For a long moment, she stared at the crumpled tissue in her hands as they rested on her lap. “Well, let’s take care of this, shall we?” Meeting his gaze, she saw respect she hadn’t expected. “You truly are a woman of strength and grace,” he observed. “It’s an honor to represent you.” “Thank you,” she managed, surprised by his words. **** Grant tried to focus on the conversation. His German was slightly rusty, but he had the gist of it. 106
Model Fantasy
Flipping to the page in question, he studied the clause. How to find a compromise? There had to be a way. What could he do to reach an agreement they both wanted? He smiled. It would be like a relationship with Francine. She was very much in the public eye and, as much as he’d been avoiding it, if he contacted her again, then he’d been stepping back into it. “Mr. Franklin? What do you think?” He looked and smiled, but had no idea what Zach was talking about. The younger man swallowed and continued, “Six months and then reassessing the situation?” He smiled. His German equivalent seemed to be waiting expectantly. “Excellent idea.” He nodded, hoping like hell he hadn’t just sold his company out for a couple hundred euros. Of course! Duh, idiot! He nearly smacked himself on the forehead. They could start out quietly, maybe meeting at the Club, see how compatible they were and then slowly go out in public together. She’d probably like the ballet. Or the opera. Or quiet walks on the beach. He remembered what she’d said about that and could just picture the two of them. He could fly them to the Bahamas where the family had part ownership in an island. He realized she wasn’t always in the tabloids, so maybe they could build a relationship outside the spotlight and see where things went. With a jolt, he realized everyone else was standing and got to his feet. “Wonderful negotiations.” Franz Von Gellin’s deep voice startled him, shaking his hand. “Always good to work with someone willing to take a chance on new ventures.” “New is good,” Grant replied, wondering what the hell else he’d missed. “Our companies are based on certain core values of honor and dedication to 107
Abby Gordon
producing the best product. That won’t change and that’s what is important.” The German beamed and turned to talk to his assistant. Grant smiled and chatted with the others in the room. Back in the hotel, he glanced at Zach. “Okay, what did I miss?” “I thought you were a bit out of it,” grinned the younger man. “Nothing much. Even on auto-pilot, you do pretty good. Von Gellin thought you were in deep thought over how to make sure you were both happy with the contract. He said he’ll see about sending more business our way.” “Really?” Grant murmured. “Maybe I should go on auto-pilot more often.” “Don’t, please. It’s a bit nerve-wracking to watch.” Zach nodded at Grant’s surprised look. “I’m serious. I mean, you’re always so absolutely in control of everything that I wasn’t sure how to react at first.” He seemed a bit embarrassed. “I think Von Gellin also saw your general silence as you supporting what I’d been trying to work out. “Sounds like you did just fine.” Grant smiled as they walked down the corridor. “We’ll have to get you more involved with these negotiations.” “Really? That would be great!” Glancing at his watch, Grant swore. “I missed my flight,” he muttered. “I’ll call Jessica and see if she can get you on the next flight available,” Zach said, pulling out his cell phone. “Jess? Negotiations ran late and Mr. Franklin missed his flight. Can you—” He grinned. “You really are trying to get a bigger bonus, aren’t you? Yeah, have it waiting for him at the counter.” Hanging up, he looked at Grant. “She’s already got you booked on the Lufthansa flight that leaves in two hours. First class, window seat, medium-rare steak, salad, and potato.” 108
Model Fantasy
Grant raised an eyebrow. “Double her bonus,” he replied. “And yours.” “Thanks,” stammered Zach, stunned. “I’ll call for the car.” Once settled on the plane, Grant tucked his briefcase under the seat and leaned back. Arrival would be about eight that night, New York time. He wondered if he dare try to send for Francine to meet him at the club. Would she even want to see him? Women could be temperamental about little things. Like not calling within a few days. And for him, it had been nearly a week. It couldn’t have been helped. When Zach had called first thing Monday saying Von Gellin was waffling on the contracts and nothing he said seemed to be calming him down, Grant had known he would have to go. His assistant had arranged his flight before he’d even finished the conversation. As he kept a bag packed at all times for just such emergencies, all he’d had to do was take the elevator up to his apartment, leave a note for his housekeeper and walk out with his suitcase. Closing his eyes as the plane taxied into position, Grant wondered what Francine had done that week. She’d mentioned an ad layout for Monday and a commercial on Tuesday. Probably hinting for him to call her later that week. And he’d been so knee-deep in German that he hadn’t dared to let himself hear her voice. Twice, he’d nearly picked up the phone to ask her to join him. The third time, he’d been in mid-dial before he hung up. He knew damn well that, if she was in Berlin with him, then he’d never focus. At least, not on the contract. His thoughts would have been completely on her. Which they had been to a great extent, he sighed. Thank God for young Zach! Once the plane had leveled off, the steward came around to check on his passengers. 109
Abby Gordon
“Newspaper or magazine, Mr. Franklin?” “No, thank you.” He shook his head. “Just a bottle of water, please.” “Of course, sir.” Grant drained the bottle and watched the lights of Europe faded into a haze beneath him. How had she gotten to him so quickly? He’d been around beautiful women all his life, but none of them had ever gotten to him the way Francine had. Was it the sensuality of her body? The richness of her laughter? The warmth of her smile? Or the way she had stood toe-to-toe with him when they’d stumbled into the argument about Brody, Lily and Rose? The plane was over the Atlantic and he was still working on the…well, he couldn’t consider it a problem. All men should have such problems! No, he corrected, he did not want any other men to have Francine. And that, he realized, made the situation extraordinary. He’d never had a woman he didn’t want to share. A woman he didn’t want to be touched by another man. The situation with Kalley had been mostly pride. A young Dominant’s confidence shaken at the realization that he couldn’t meet the needs of a submissive. Even Sheila, before her blackmail attempt, hadn’t aroused this possessive streak in him. Again, that had been pride. And a desperate need to extricate himself from the mess he’d gotten into. Francine was different. It hadn’t been just sex, despite him repeatedly telling her that. He’d hated the brief pain in her eyes when he’d said it. He’d wanted to soothe the hurt and make sure she didn’t feel that way again. He’d never felt that way for anyone outside his family. They’d talked, laughed, argued, and in twenty-four hours he’d become closer to her than he ever had with another woman. He wanted that again. More. Deeper. Not just the sex. 110
Model Fantasy
But the woman he’d…the woman he’d made love to. Grant finished off the whiskey and shook his head when the steward offered more. It had been more than sex, more than fucking. He’d never touched a woman with emotion. Until her. Especially that last time. The need to possess every inch of her and never let her go had overwhelmed him. His emotions had spilled over as he’d spanked her. He’d seen that in her body and had been furious with himself. He could have seriously hurt her! He’d struck her with emotions. Worse, he’d struck her in anger. Fuck, he told his reflection in the window. Why would she want anything to do with him? A Dom who couldn’t control himself wasn’t worth being in charge of anything besides a poodle parade. Echoing Peter’s remonstrance of nearly twenty years ago didn’t make him feel one bit better. Just worse. He couldn’t call her. He couldn’t contact her. It would be better for them both if he left her alone. Now, if he could just figure out how the hell he was going to maintain control whenever he saw her picture. Shit.
111
Abby Gordon
Chapter Ten Grant emptied his suitcase in his usual, methodical way. Suits and shirts were taken to the front closet for his housekeeper to take to the dry cleaner’s. All the rest of his clothing went in the laundry hamper in the master bathroom. Before returning the hanging bag to the closet, he repacked it for the next emergency—two suits, four shirts, six ties, and the rest of his clothing. He checked his shoes, frowning at the scuffmarks. Dammit, you’d think he had been channeling Bronson or something. He set those aside to polish that weekend. “Grant! Grant!” How the hell did his cousin do that? He’d only thought of him and the man had to pop up! Knowing Bronson, he probably wanted to borrow a bottle of whiskey. Or a paddle from the playroom. “Grant, dammit, I know you’re back!” The voice came down the hall accompanied by the usual heavy footsteps. Grant frowned. Someone was with Bronson. “There you are.” Grant glanced at his cousin. Just behind Bronson was an agitated Ben. He put the hanging bag on its hook inside his closet. “Bron? I just got in from…” “It’s Francine. Do you have any idea of what’s been happening to her?” Grant felt the blood drain from his body. Forget jetlag. Forget the complexities of deals and contracts that had normally been able to command his complete attention. All he could see was the look on her face of that last orgasm. That smile. The light in 112
Model Fantasy
her eyes. All he could hear was her laugher, her husky voice. His eyes narrowed. “What about Francine? What happened?” Bronson began pacing immediately. Ben leaned against the wall and began drumming his fingers against the paneling. Grant frowned. He couldn’t imagine what had happened that would agitate the two to this extent. “Your plane probably hadn’t taken off when they started. It was so low that it took a couple days to build up steam...” “Who and what?” Grant cut to the chase. Feeling he would need it, he reached for the drink he’d poured. “Stop beating around the bush. I’m not some jury you need to convince. Spill it, Bronson.” Ben nodded when Bron glanced at him. “Kevin and Delilah. In case she didn’t mention them…” “Her former fiancé and the woman she found in bed with him. Another model.” Grant nodded, finishing his Scotch. “What about them?” “They started rumors. Among other things, Kevin said Francine had tried to do cocaine in his apartment and had taken all the money in their shared account. Delilah said she found Francine downing vodka and unknown pills…” “That’s fucking bullshit!” Grant exploded. “That’s not all,” Bronson said quietly. “What else?” Grant took a deep breath and leveled a steady gaze at his cousin. “Kevin said Francine seduced him to get company secrets. They’ve been crucifying her, Grant. Heather called me. Her roommate’s a model who was on the shoot with Francine in Fiji. Francine came to see me Wednesday and we’ve been working on it…” “Why the hell didn’t you call me or…” “I was a bit busy trying to protect her and 113
Abby Gordon
straighten things out. They went after her professionally,” Bronson continued. “Her agent and I have been working non-stop since Wednesday. We’ve filed all sorts of legal motions and they’ve already backed down on most of it. The account thing was easy to disprove because Francine never had a joint account with him.” “Is Francine all right?” Grant asked sharply, now pacing about the room. “She’s held it together,” Bronson assured him. “She’s got some strength to her, but I’m not sure how much longer she can hold on.” He paused until Grant looked at him. “The girls are all at some breast cancer fundraiser right now chaired by Elizabeth MacLauren.” Grant’s eyes narrowed at the thought of Francine surrounded by those he knew would be attending any MacLauren event. “Sonuvabitch,” he muttered. “Yeah, I know.” Bron nodded. “I just talked to Heather. Everyone’s treating Francine like she has the plague or something. PR and legal-wise, we’re winning there. But this is the upper crust of society, Grant. You know what they’ll be doing to her.” Grant nodded. He knew what that could be like. “Is Kevin there?” “Yeah.” Bron nodded. “It’s his grandmother’s event. Delilah’s with him.” Clenching his jaw, Grant shook his head and paced over to the window. Francine was going through hell and he wasn’t there to defend her from the catty remarks and cold shoulder treatment he knew could hurt like hell. He hadn’t been there all week! He knew damn well how the press could rip a person to pieces. Whether she wanted him there or not, he was going to protect her. And God help MacLauren if Grant got his hands on him. He strode to the closet and reached for the 114
Model Fantasy
hanging bag that protected his tuxedo. He paused. Did he really want to waste time showering and fussing with a damn tux? What the hell was he going to do to make sure no one messed with Francine? The plans he’d made on the flight home went out the window. Keep it simple, stupid, he told himself. Two part plan—punch MacLauren’s lights out, find Francine. Simple. Easy. “Fuck it,” he muttered, turning around. “Let me get something from the safe and we’ll go. Get a hold of Heather. Tell her to stay there with Francine. But don’t tell her I’m on my way.” Bronson and Ben blinked as Grant headed for his study. “What is he doing?” Ben muttered as they followed him. “Not a fucking clue.” Bron shook his head as he dialed. “Heather? Stay with Francine. Don’t leave. Stay put.” He shook his head. “Yeah, I know. Just trust me, okay? Thanks.” Standing in front of the open safe, Grant pictured the perfect features and wondered just what it would be like to have her for more than just one night. He could hear her voice in his ear. The joy of life, the strength, the grace. The warmth. His. She’d been his and he’d let her go. Every fantasy he’d ever created had been real for one perfect moment and he’d walked away from it. “Not this time,” he vowed, grabbing the blue velvet pouch. A minute later, Grant reappeared, tucking something into his pocket. Pulling on his sheepskin coat, he checked for his wallet and keys. “Let’s go.” “Heather will have your head,” warned Bron, closing the door behind him. “Why’s that?” Grant wondered, pushing for the elevator. 115
Abby Gordon
Ben lifted his cell phone and murmured for someone to meet them with the car. “I’m taking my car,” Grant told him. “Bron, why will Heather come after me?” “She’s on a vegetarian and organic kick. Nothing to do with harm to animals or something.” “Right.” Grant nodded as the elevator doors opened. “Note to self. Cancel full-length mink for Heather’s birthday present.” Bron and Ben chuckled. Reaching the hotel, Grant handed the keys and two bills to the valet, whispering to him. Eyes wide, the young man nodded. Getting in, he moved the Mercedes fifteen feet, pulled to the curb and turned the engine off. Grant looked at Bron. “Where’s Heather right now?” “Left as you enter the ballroom. Halfway down under the largest pink ribbon.” “Kevin?” Bron murmured in the cell phone. “On the dance floor with Delilah. She’s wearing a barely legal pink mini dress with a long-ass train. Heather says with Delilah’s red hair it hurts to look at her.” Nodding, Grant strode in, ignoring security who tried to stop him. Flanking him, Bron and Ben intercepted the men and shoved them aside. Ben’s three men took care of the rest. Grant didn’t notice anyone or anything. Reception line? Hell, no. He was intent on two things. Seeing his first target, Grant shoved two people aside, pulled one couple apart and grabbed the tuxedo jacket. Nearby, Keith turned from his date and stared. “What the…” Kevin MacLauren sputtered. “Franklin, what the fuck…” “Francine is mine, asshole. Spreading your lies was a mistake. She doesn’t like to drink and has 116
Model Fantasy
trouble taking an aspirin. She sure as hell would never touch drugs.” He shot a dirty look at Delilah who stared at him blankly. Turning his attention back to Kevin, Grant snarled. “You ever say another word about her again and I’ll deal with you in ways that go beyond your worst nightmare. You understand me, you sonuvabitch?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” screamed Kevin. He looked at Delilah, who’d moved behind him. “What the fuck did you say to—” Grant simply pulled his fist back and let it fly. Kevin staggered back, tripped over Delilah’s train as she tried to get out of his way and crashed to the floor. “I’ll do the same to anyone else I hear spreading lies about Francine,” Grant announced in a firm voice. “We clear?” He glared at the formal-clad society members who shrank back from him. Except Keith, who moved to stand with Bronson and Ben. Grant acknowledged the support against the man’s halfbrother with a nod. “You boke by bose!” Kevin protested, the hand over his nose already covered in blood. “You’re lucky that’s all I’m going to do,” Grant told him. “Get out of here before I change my mind.” Eyes searching, Grant found the largest pink ribbon hanging on the wall to his left. The elite of New York City society scrambled to get out of his way. **** “Girls, I don’t think I can take anymore of this,” Francine said, gathering her full skirt to rise from the chair she was on. “It’s been a long week and…” “Bronson told us to stay here and—” Heather suddenly turned her head. Hearing the commotion, Francine frowned. 117
Abby Gordon
“Heather?” She turned to the younger woman to her left. “What is it?” Craning her neck, Heather shook her head. “Too many people in the way.” “Can you see anything?” Rose was asking Jasmine. Lily put her hand on Francine’s chair as she stood on tiptoes trying to see. Too exhausted to stand, Francine didn’t bother to even try. She had gone through more than the rollercoaster Bronson had called it. Tears were in her eyes as she thought about everything that had happened the past week. She’d been praying as she’d never dreamed of doing that ‘master’ would appear and put an end to all of the rumors. Anything. Something. Nothing. People were scattering and she frowned, wondering what was going on. The last few moved and she caught her breath. Broad shoulders, solid muscular thighs, and a swagger that promised satisfaction. Her eyes moved up slightly and filled with tears as she recognized the sculpted face with the day’s stubble. Even more familiar was the heat in the blue eyes that scorched her from twenty feet away. Her pussy clenched at what his expression told her. Four men were with him and only one was in a tuxedo. “Grant and Bron, you’re not in a tuxedo,” Heather was saying. “Why are you here dressed like that? Keith, what’s going on?” Things fell into place for Francine as she saw the two men standing next to each other. They and Heather had the same eyes and chin. That’s why she’d thought he resembled someone she knew! Cousins. This had to be the cousin Grant Heather had mentioned. Ten years ago there had been some 118
Model Fantasy
scandal and he’d basically dropped out of society’s spotlight, focusing on his business. Dear God, had they all been in on setting her up? A frantic head swivel to her left told her that Heather was completely baffled by the appearances of her cousins. Turning her gaze back to him, she drank in the sight—Grant Franklin. To Francine, he had never looked better. Except naked. But where had he been the past week when the tabloids had been tearing her to pieces? Had he been waiting to make some sort of grand gesture? Why? That didn’t seem like him at all. He would have spoken up sooner to reduce all the publicity. Unless he had been hoping to avoid all of it and finally felt as if he didn’t have a choice. Except if that was the case, why was he here? Why now? As if slightly frightened of the raw masculinity not covered by the tuxedo civility, Lily and Rose stepped closer together behind Francine’s chair. Their hands landed on Francine’s bare shoulders. To her right, Jasmine had found her voice. “Why did you punch Kevin MacLauren like that?” Francine couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. He’d punched Kevin! Two steps away from her, Grant stopped. For a long moment, he just looked at her. Francine gazed up at him, unable to believe who he was, or that she hadn’t realized it. God, she had missed him! She had held those memories close during the week. At shoots, doing the commercial and just going out to get groceries. After that one horrible chase by the paparazzi, she had stayed in her apartment, leaving only when Heather insisted. Could he see it in her eyes? How much that brief time had meant to her? How he had moved her? Invaded her heart, mind and body? Could he see how much she needed him? How much she…loved him? The heat was still in his eyes, but his expression 119
Abby Gordon
softened slightly as he reached into his pants’ pocket. He took two quick steps and went down on one knee. “My flight from Berlin was late,” he said, voice steady. He spoke loudly and clearly although the crowd had hushed to hear what was said. “Or I would have picked you up tonight as I said.” Everyone around them gasped and stared. He lifted his hand, fingers unfurling and revealing his palm. A large diamond winked in the gleam of the chandelier overhead. “That was Great-Grandmother’s!” Heather gasped. Grant nodded, eyes never leaving Francine’s face. “Grant?” She didn’t dare hope. Not after the last week. “I don’t understand,” she told him. “What is all this? He gently covered her hands on her lap and squeezed them slightly. “Francine, you’re the only woman I want with me for the rest of my life. I want all the smiles, all the tears…” “All the shouts and all the laughter,” she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Knowing that one person…” “Will always have my back.” He smiled. Taking her left hand, he slid the ring onto her finger. As he stood to bend over her, one hand went to the back of her head and gripped the coiled hair at her nape. Pulling her head closer, he kissed her, drawing her to her feet. His left arm wrapped around her waist and brought her flush against him. Her hands slid under his jacket, smoothed over his cashmere sweater, brushed his jaw and then her fingers threaded through the dark blond hair. With a low moan, she surrendered, letting her body mold to his. She didn’t care where they were or 120
Model Fantasy
who was watching. He’d come to her. He hadn’t wasted time changing. He’d come to her. He’d punched Kevin. He’d come… She looked up as he lifted his head. “Grant?” “Let’s go home,” he whispered. His eyes found a stunned Keith MacLauren. “Tell your grandmother to put me down for a million.” “And me,” added Francine, smiling. She rested her head on Grant’s shoulder. “Heather, I don’t think I’ll need a ride home tonight.” “No, I don’t think you will.” Heather smiled. “We’ll understand if you don’t show up for Sunday brunch.” Already drawing Francine away from the group, Grant looked over her head and winked at his grinning cousin. “Smart girl.” As if to make things clear to those who might have missed something the past ten minutes, he swept Francine up in his arms and strode out the door. An alert attendant was there with her cloak and he paused to let it be tucked around her. Outside, he felt her shiver in the cold and quickened his steps. The young man had been watching. As soon as they appeared, he started the car and got out, leaving the driver door open. Hurrying around, he opened the passenger door. Nodding, Grant carefully placed Francine inside and put the seatbelt around her. “All right, sweetheart?” he whispered. Her eyes glowed and she pressed her lips to his. “I am now.” She smiled. “Silk.” “Wait until I get you home,” he winked. He hurried around to get in. Slamming the door closed he turned on the seat to look at her. His hands framed her face — the perfect, porcelain skinned, high cheek bones and blue-green eyes he’d seen 121
Abby Gordon
every time he’d closed his eyes. “God, I missed you,” he breathed, kissing her with more tenderness than he’d thought was in him. She sighed in his mouth and her tongue tangled with his. He groaned. “I am going to fuck the daylights out of you when we get home.” “You do say all the right things to a woman,” she laughed. Her right hand moved down his chest, inside his coat and down to his lap. His cock twitched at her caress and hardened as her hand rested on top. “Mm, just the way I like it.” With a groan he gave her a hard, just-wait-untilI-get-you-behind-closed-doors kiss and focused on his driving. “I think I should have known who you were,” she commented after a couple minutes. “I mean, all the clues were there. I just didn’t have a chance to put them together.” “Really?” “Yeah, really. I’ve been a bit busy the past few days. But I should’ve seen it,” she smiled, turning on the seat to face him. She rested her cheek on the leather. “Especially in Bron’s office Wednesday. You’ve both got the same eyes. Nearly the same body build.” She grinned. “Jasmine didn’t know whether to drool or attack.” “Connect the dots for me?” he asked, turning right. “The model with dark hair. The wild-child of our group and Heather’s roommate when she’s not flying off on shoots,” she explained. “She knows how to deal with men, but she didn’t have a clue as to how to react to Bronson. Any other time, it would have been amusing.” She rested a hand on his forearm. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “For defending me the way you did. I wish you hadn’t punched Kevin, but…” “Asshole deserved it,” growled Grant. He shot her a quick glance. “I’m still pumped up with 122
Model Fantasy
adrenaline so…” “You’ll need an outlet for all that energy?” she guessed smiling. “One way of putting it,” he grunted, stopping at a red light. “Right up there,” he pointed. “That’s where that billboard was of you and those roses. My fantasies about you started with that ad.” His left hand covered hers on his right arm. “I kept that magazine. It’s in my study. I never thought I’d have the real thing.” He smiled. On the spot, Francine decided to recreate that for him. Later, when he wasn’t expecting it. Maybe on his birthday or some other special occasion. She still couldn’t believe what he’d done — crashing a black tie event and punching the grandson of a leading doyenne! But it so fit with everything she’d learned about him as they’d talked and…she nibbled her bottom lip. “Stop that,” he said quietly, turning the car’s engine off. “Stop what?” she asked, lifting her chin. “Well, I’d say thinking, but I have a feeling you, Heather and your friends, would turn me insideout,” he grinned, getting out of the car. When he’d opened her door, she stepped out. “Let me look at you.” She couldn’t believe the look in his eyes. It was as if he couldn’t get enough of her, as if he didn’t want to stop looking at her. She watched his gaze travel up the full red satin skirt to the fitted bodice and to the embroidered band just over her breasts. Could a man look at woman like that and not be in love with her? She hoped not. She hoped it meant more than ‘how fast can I get her out of that dress and into bed.’ That sentiment was fine, but she needed the emotions now. Needed that reassurance only he could give her. Slowly, his arm went around her waist and 123
Abby Gordon
pulled her to him. His other hand caressed her side, slowly moving up until it cradled the back of her head. In his eyes, she saw everything she’d ever wanted. His mouth covered hers with gentle passion. Her hands went to his shoulders, pulling him closer. The strength and warmth of his embrace filled her and she trembled, filled with feelings she didn’t know how to express. She held him tight as his mouth explored the smooth column of her throat. He nipped the sensitive nerve at her collarbone and she gasped. “Grant, please,” she sighed. “Take me home.” “Oh, definitely, sweetheart,” he promised, lifting his head. “I have to tell you this first.” His hands held her face again. “The hardest thing I’ve ever done was walking out of that room Sunday. I…I won’t do a stupid thing like that again. I know I’ll do stupid stuff in the future, but I will never, ever do something to hurt you. And if I go somewhere, then you’re coming with me, understand? If you’ve got to go somewhere for your work, then I’m going with you. I won’t wake up without you in my arms again. You’ll be right beside me.” “Sounds like heaven,” she smiled, tears in her eyes. “Unless you’ve got me on the spanking bench or tied to the bed.” “Entirely different scenarios, baby,” he told her. “Don’t cry,” he shook his head, wiping a tear that slipped down her cheek. “Happy tears,” she assured him. “Let’s go see if we can make more then.”
124
Model Fantasy
Chapter Ten He held her close in the elevator and drew her into the apartment. His coat fell to the floor and her cape followed. He pressed her against the door and devoured her mouth. With an eager moan, she pressed against him. Her hands went under his sweater and found the hard muscles underneath. “Grant,” she panted. “It’s been forever. Please.” His mouth was working its way along the top of the bodice and his chin pushed the fabric down until her nipples sprang free. He growled and latched onto one. “Oh, God, yes,” she cried. Her need to touch him overrode everything else. Her hands worked on the buttons of his jeans and dove in. Feeling his cock finally in her grasp, she hummed. Oh, yeah. This was what she’d needed. Her man, so eager to have her that he couldn’t get her past the front door. His hands were pulling up her skirt as she pushed his jeans and boxers over his hips. “I’m going to fuck you right here,” he warned her. “To start with,” she nodded, pulling his sweater up. “I need to feel your body heat. I need to…” He tugged his sweater over his head and tossed it in the general direction of their outerwear. Going back to her skirt, he pulled it to her waist and saw the scarlet lace thong. “Very nice,” he observed. “I’ll buy you a dozen to replace it.” Before she could fully understand his meaning, 125
Abby Gordon
he’d ripped it off. Hands at her waist, he lifted her off the floor a few inches. Lust blazed in his eyes and she knew he saw the same thing in hers. The tip of his penis brushed against her pussy. Reactively, she felt her muscles clench as if he was already inside her. “Master.” His cock plunged inside her, buried to the balls in one stroke. “Yes!” she shouted. “Please, fuck me, master. Hurry. Please.” As he stroked in and out of her, as their tongues tangled, as their bodies pressed together, she knew she hadn’t really been alive until he’d touched her. She’d lived, but not felt. Not until he’d touched her heart. Now, he was here. Holding her, kissing her, touching her. Fucking her as if his life depended on it. “I love you,” she whispered, wrapping her long legs around his waist. She didn’t care that he hadn’t said it. He’d shown it in everything he’d done. And she couldn’t hold it back any longer. “I love you. Love you!” She shouted as the orgasm tore through her. He kept stroking and she held her breath at the determined expression on his face. “Come with me,” he told her. “Together, sweetheart.” His mouth found hers and all the emotion they had held back during that first day together found release. Still inside her, he rested his forehead against the door. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders. Her legs held tight at his waist. Breathing heavily, they recovered. “I’m not sure what to do,” she whispered. “Could have fooled me,” he commented, pulling 126
Model Fantasy
some of the pins from her hair. “That I’m figuring out,” Francine chuckled. “It’s called go with the flow of whatever you’ve got in mind.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “I meant…is the dominant-submissive stuff only in the bedroom? Or in public? What do I call you here or outside or…” He nodded, intent now on combing his fingers through her hair. “Definitely in the bedroom,” he said slowly. “I think we’ll have to figure out how far to take it as we go. I meant what I said in the garage. If one of us has to go somewhere, then the other goes. I guess we’ll have to work around your schedule a bit, but I really don’t take too many trips unless I’m going stir-crazy in the office. Three or four times a year, tops.” He gave her a serious look. “I have to tell you something, sweetheart. I’m not crazy about other men seeing my wife in her underwear or barely covered.” “Your wife?” she repeated softly. “You really meant it.” “Yeah,” he nodded, raising her left hand. “That’s what this means. I wasn’t doing that just for show. I meant every word.” Gently, his fingers wrapped around hers. “I love you, Francine.” She couldn’t help it. The tears flowed and she buried her face against his chest. “I love you,” she sobbed. “I…I didn’t think I could love someone as much as I love you.” “Then why are you crying?” he frowned, stroking her back. “Because I’m happy,” she told him, hiccupping as she tried to control her tears. “It’s been a rough, up and down week, darling. My emotions are scrambled a bit. And…when I didn’t hear from you, I was so sure I never would because you wouldn’t want anything to do with all the scandal and 127
Abby Gordon
paparazzi. I realized you had had a really bad experience and I just knew that you wouldn’t want to go through that again. And I didn’t want you to. And now…” She took a deep breath. “You think that was enough run-on sentences there?” “I’m hardly going to correct your grammar,” he drawled. “Are tears something I need to get used to? I can deal with them, but when you cry, I feel like I need to do something to make you feel better. Or go punch something.” She giggled and kissed the strong column of his neck. “I think one broken nose will be enough, darling. I’m not usually so emotional. I’m usually fairly evenkeeled but…” “It’s been a rollercoaster ride week,” he finished, nodding. “I can understand that.” “What did you go through?” “I’m not going to get into that now.” He shook his head. Kissing the top of her head, he rested his cheek on the silky strands and closed his eyes. “Right now, I just want to hold you. Realize that this isn’t a dream or fantasy that’s going to be over at sunrise.” He felt her tremble. “Sweetheart?” “Nothing,” she whispered. “Try again. Only this time, the truth.” She lifted her head and gave him a firm, don’tmess-with-me-on-this look. “Don’t leave me in bed, even to go to the office, without waking me up and saying good-bye,” she told him. “I might go back to sleep. I might get up and workout or eat breakfast. But don’t ever, and I mean I don’t care how much of a hurry you’re in, don’t ever leave without saying good-bye.” Her eyes narrowed. “Master or not, you’ll be on the couch for several nights.” “I’m sorry. I told you how hard that was for me…” 128
Model Fantasy
Francine shot him a furious look and he snapped his mouth shut in surprise. “After the most explosive orgasm of my life, after the most incredible sex of my life, I woke up to find those two silent women watching me. You weren’t there. You left as if it hadn’t meant anything. I felt abandoned. I realize that you’re the strong, silent type, but don’t ever do that again!” Her finger jabbed his shoulder. “Just put that on your list of things not to do. Right up near the top.” “Got it,” he nodded. “Anything else?” Slightly mollified, she studied him a moment. Knowing him, at some point he would remember her interrupting him and use that as an excuse to ‘punish’ her. “I’ll let you know.” Relieved, he kissed her and felt the need to take her again. “We’re going to set new records,” he murmured. “But let’s at least get beyond the foyer.” She felt better seeing the obvious contrition on his face as he’d listened to her describe waking up with him gone. And the way he obviously didn’t want to pull out of her. Her feet on the floor again, she took a couple steps and slipped out of her strappy sandals. He turned on the light before bolting the door and setting the security system. “I’ve been thinking about you in my bed all week. Or bent over the spanking bench in my playroom.” “You and me both,” she smiled as she pulled her dress up a bit. The words echoed in her head. He had a playroom. With a spanking bench. And he was already thinking about putting her there. A shiver of anticipation raced up and down her spine. No time limits or interruptions. There was no telling what he would do with her. She glanced over at him when she heard his laughter. “What’s so funny?” 129
Abby Gordon
“Beyond you covering yourself up in front of me?” he grinned, pushing away from the door to join her. “Just that we were probably thinking about the same things all week.” His finger slid along her collarbone. “How should I fuck you first?” “The bedroom? Or the playroom?” she murmured, trailing her finger from the hollow at the base of his throat down his chest. “Whichever you prefer, master.” “Well, I do have this fantasy,” he started, scooping her up in his arms. “Really?” Francine purred. “We’ll have to make it come true.”
130
Model Fantasy
About the author… Friendship and love are necessities. Love can blaze hot and fast, quickly fading. But with careful tending, it can last beyond any fantasy. My parents met fifty years ago and their love story is always inspiring. I try to show a hint of that depth, breadth and dedication in my main characters. Friends, whether near or far, have been incredibly supportive which is why I try to have a few scenes of the main characters, men and women, enjoying that warmth. You can find me at
[email protected], on Facebook as Abby Gordon, and the author’s page on Amazon
131
Abby Gordon
Also Available
Beck & Call by Abby Gordon Serena Traydon was tired of playing it safe. All her adult life, she’d done what was expected— worked hard, went to school, cared for her aging grandfather, and ignored her own needs. Just once, she wanted someone to take care of her and bring her passions to life. But those deeper, darker desires seemed so forbidden without the right partner. Keith McLauren had spent years training for this moment. He was a Dom and a he’d finally found the perfect submissive. She might be his secretary but she’d never been at his beck and call. Could he make her his without ruining everything?
132
Model Fantasy
Chapter One Through the partially opened door, Keith MacLauren heard laughter. Again. This was intolerable! He was the CEO of one of the nation’s, if not the world’s, most advanced and innovative computer software companies, and he couldn’t get a moment’s peace because every person in his company felt compelled to stop by his assistant’s desk. Hearing the voices of two board members, Keith scowled and stood. Striding to the door, he flung it aside and prepared to lash out at the two dozen people crowded in the outer office. His mouth gaped, while his eyes took in the scene. His brain managed to snap his jaw shut before a single syllable slipped past his lips. A birthday cake sat on Serena’s desk, along with several wrapped presents. Nearly every surface around the room sprouted large bouquets. Keith’s angry eyes flashed to the blushing face of his assistant of nearly two years. **** Serena bit her bottom lip nervously. Oh, he was pissed! At her. His dark blue eyes were rarely calm, but now they were so stormy they seemed to crash with thunder. Why his anger was focused on her, she had no idea. It certainly hadn’t been her idea for everyone to traipse in and out all day. She’d never told anyone about her birthday, much less how old she was. Thirty. Why on earth would she be happy to be thirty? 133
Abby Gordon
Yes, she had accomplished quite a bit by completing her MBA and becoming executive assistant to the CEO. But, and it was a big but, she thought she’d be married and have two point five kids, a minivan, and be as blissfully happy as her sisters-in-law. But then she met Keith. She was amazed that someone only five years older than herself could have such presence, such charisma, such a potent force. Since then, Keith MacLauren had become the star of every intimate fantasy. She’d dated other men, but kept comparing them to Keith. That morning, after her mother’s call had revolved around marriage and babies, she had given herself a stern lecture about getting over the infatuation with her boss and move on with her life. Bosses, especially CEO’s, did not have intimate relations with their assistants. That only happened in fluffy romance novels. Serena took a deep breath and gathered her courage. She’d been with the company for nearly eight years, working her way up from an entry-level clerk to the executive assistant to the CEO. She’d been careful not to step on any toes, even as she made it clear she wanted to go as far as she could. It was obvious that a large number of people in the company liked her. There was nothing to be ashamed of in having so many want to wish her happy birthday, dammit. Just because Keith was in the dark about her was no reason to get pissed. He’d made it very clear in her initial interview that professional and personal lives shouldn’t mix. Even if she’d disagreed, knowing that at some point the two intersected, she’d followed his rules. In her mind, he was losing out on quite a bit distancing himself from those he spent so much time with. “Hello, Keith,” she said, pleased her voice was steady. “The conference call is in twenty minutes.” 134
Model Fantasy
“We’ll be out of her hair in ten,” added a former boss. A young assistant, who had interned two years earlier and been taken under Serena’s wing, lit the candles. Serena shook her head and sighed. “Honestly, Claire, did you have to put thirty on it?” Gleaming white teeth flashed as she finished and shook the match out with a flourish. “Come on, quick,” she urged. “Blow them out before the fire department arrives.” Giving the younger woman a withering look, Serena took a couple deep breaths and blew out the candles. To applause, she laughed and gave a mocking bow. Taking the large knife from Claire, she made the first cut. “Okay, someone else take over,” she smiled, returning the knife to Claire. “And take this away so I don’t eat the entire thing.” “Like you need to worry about that,” replied Claire. “I’d kill to have your figure.” “When you’re thirty?” drawled Serena. “Now,” came the grimace as Claire glanced down at her own lush curves. Keith watched the interaction. Hiding his impatience with his usual impassive expression, he leaned against the doorframe. He caught a couple glances from those who didn’t fear reprisal. So he hadn’t known it was his assistant’s birthday, much less her age. That didn’t make him a bad person or boss. It just meant that he had other priorities. Did these people know that he made sure she had the highest bonus of the entire administrative staff? It was only fitting that, as his right-hand, she receive more. Personal information had nothing to do with the workplace. After ten minutes, Serena literally shooed 135
Abby Gordon
everyone out, making sure Claire took the rest of the cake so no one else came to her office. She then picked up the phone and punched in several numbers. “Tom? It’s Serena.” She smiled and shook her head. “Thank you. I don’t think it’s hit yet. I was wondering if you could handle the flowers that were delivered. There’s no way I can take them all home with me.” She nodded. “That would be great. I’ll call security and tell them to send Charlie and Bob up. Thanks.” “Well, that’s something I’ve never seen,” Keith drawled after she’d called the security desk in the building’s lobby. “You’ve never seen a birthday party before?” she replied with a raised eyebrow. “Not quite,” he muttered. “I’ve never seen a woman give away flowers. Who are you giving them to?” “The Hospice of Saint Benedict’s.” “A hospice?” he stared at her. “Why?” Startled, Serena looked hurt and then embarrassed. “My grandfather lived there for over a year until he died six months ago.” Keith held his breath and tried to hold onto his temper. He hadn’t known her birthday or her age. And now she tells him her grandfather had died— she’d never said a word. “And you didn’t tell me?” he said quietly. He knew he emphasized keeping personal things out of the office, but something like this? How could she not have mentioned it? “So to thank them for his care you send them your flowers?” She shook her head. “I volunteer on Sundays and spend most holidays there.” “You’re serious?” Keith shook his head in 136
Model Fantasy
disbelief. “You enjoy being around people so much older than you.” “Yes,” she nodded. A small smile curved her pale pink lips. “I listen to their stories. They’ve taught me that life is too precious to waste a moment. That we have to remember to feel.” He saw sadness flicker in her eyes. “That we should put relationships first.” “I do that and the company suffers,” he muttered. “You’re the CEO,” she reminded him with a smile. “That’s your job, but I’d bet you could manage if you wanted.” Keith was quiet a long moment considering what she’d said. “I guess,” he shrugged. “Sounds like you spend a lot of time over there. I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman who did something so selfless.” “Really?” Serena sat down and tapped quickly at her keyboard. “I’m not surprised, especially considering that last woman and a couple others.” “You didn’t like Charlotte?” She shivered as if she didn’t even like to hear the name. “Keith, please! The woman was more two-faced than Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde!” “What are you talking about?” The uncharacteristic harshness in her voice had to be because—he hated to think of something so cliché— she was turning thirty. He’d heard that women got emotional at big birthdays. “What did she do?” “Keith, she treated anyone worth less than twenty million to a cold shoulder that could have sunk the Titanic!” Glancing up, Serena’s green eyes met his gaze. She caught her full bottom lip with her upper teeth and relented. “I’m sure she was wonderful to be around.” But Keith was reeling from her words. He couldn’t remember Serena saying an unkind or 137
Abby Gordon
unflattering word about anyone. Period. Even when she’d had more than enough reason to. This was more than just about her birthday. Which could only mean that Charlotte and some of his other girlfriends had hit hard and deep at his usually calm and impassive assistant. He felt like twelve different kinds of fools. “In other words, she was a first-class actress and a bitch when I wasn’t around, right?” Grimacing, she slowly nodded. “Sorry.” “I thought I knew women,” he muttered. He couldn’t believe he’d been fooled like that. Serena had said ‘a couple others.’ Keith had a feeling she meant a lot more. Who else had fooled him so well? He wouldn’t be able to trust a damn thing any of them said. “I thought I was a better judge of character.” “You only knew her in a social setting. Surrounded by people she wanted to impress.” “I wonder how many others I’ve been wrong about.” “You’re human, Keith. We’re all wrong about people.” For a long moment, he just stood there, staring at her. Then her phone rang, and he turned and entered his office. **** Entering her apartment, Serena leaned against the door and closed her eyes. Birthdays ending in a zero were a bitch and should be outlawed. She didn’t know what she’d thought would happen that day. Sighing, she shook her head and stared at the small masterpiece highlighted by the timed spotlight. Yeah, she did know. Deep down inside, she had dreamed that Keith would be overcome with emotion or…she didn’t know what. With a groan of frustration she headed straight 138
Model Fantasy
for her bedroom and changed. With all the pent-up emotions, she was going to need one helluva workout if she wanted any sleep tonight. Climbing on her treadmill, she started at a walk. Her brain went over the conversation after she’d called Tom. She stopped walking. Grabbing the side rails, she jumped her feet off the track. Pushing pause, she frowned recalling his words and expressions. Had she imagined it? Keith was always strong and powerful, in absolute control, but her comments about Charlotte and his other girlfriends had caught him by surprise. In a rare moment, he let his guard down and allowed her to see his vulnerability. At the same time, she winced, he had probably been able to see her emotions just as much. “Crap,” she muttered. “This is not good.” Stepping back on, she hit restart, but her mind was stubborn. After a few minutes, exasperated with herself, she increased the speed and incline. “No thinking, Serena,” she whispered. “Just feel the muscles working. Put everything into the pace.” Thirty minutes later, she slowed to a walk. The shaken expression on Keith’s face, however brief, immediately reappeared in her mind’s eye. He’d been hurt and she hadn’t seen it. She’d been too caught up in venting pent-up emotions. Honesty forced her to face something. Keith must have seen through her and realized her feelings for him. With a sigh, she wondered what that would mean to their working relationship. More than once, he’d said that work was no place for personal relationships. If he even suspected the depths of her feelings, he would find a reason to fire her. He might find an equal position for her somewhere, but he wouldn’t want her anywhere near him. That much was obvious from his comment about the company coming first. His snort at her comment about him being CEO and able to manage had told her more 139
Abby Gordon
than any words. Not wanting to consider it, she picked up the pace again. The thought of being transferred or fired spurred her to a run and after twenty minutes the sweat was dripping into her eyes. Stepping off, her head hung as she caught her breath. All Serena could see was Keith’s face. It would almost be better to find another job, away from the company, so she wouldn’t be tempted to blurt out her feelings. Since running herself to death hadn’t erased his image from her mind, perhaps a session of yoga would calm her heart and clear her thoughts. Flipping her mat out, Serena stepped to the edge and closed her eyes. Keith’s chiseled face appeared. Blue eyes mocked her. “Great,” she murmured, lowering her hands and raising them again. “You’d think I’d be beyond a teenage infatuation.” Another deep breath and she knew one thing for certain. If she was going to get any sleep at all, MacLauren had to be suppressed. “Downward-dogs, don’t fail me now,” she whispered. Keith secured the Velcro around his wrists and walked across the room. With a deep breath, he started pounding the heavy bag in the corner. Serena’s lunchtime revelations still stung his ego. Not only had he known precious little about the woman sitting three steps from his office door, but he’d known next to nothing about women he had dated—and fucked—and that pissed him off. He was smart. He was a good judge of character. How the hell could he have been so wrong? Moving to the speed bag, he unleashed a flurry of punches. Okay, he would just lay off women for a while. He would observe their actions and move very carefully from now on. If he needed sex, he would go 140
Model Fantasy
to the club for a submissive. He’d known instinctively that socialites wouldn’t agree to be tied, blindfolded, and gagged when he fucked them, so he’d never even tried. Sweat dripped as he paused, hands on his hips. So what the hell was he going to do with Serena? The sudden image of her bound to his bed, waiting for him, speared through his brain. “Oh, yeah,” he muttered. “You dumbshit! Just what you need, a sexual harassment suit on top of all your other problems!” Catching the end of a strap in his teeth, he pulled the gloves off and returned to the heavy bag. Yet, as he went through a series of kicks, the picture would not leave his mind. It was ridiculous to even think about. Serena would never consider a dominant/submissive relationship. “Dammit!” he growled. “I can’t fuck my assistant!” But the image wouldn’t go away, leaving him tossing on the king-size bed. Somewhere during the night, a plan came to him. Legal pad in hand, by the time the sky grew light, Keith had things figured out. It would be tricky, risky, and require a helluva lot of luck. Based on what he did know of Serena, he was confident that he had a very good chance of not only solving his problems, but showing her a side of herself that she hadn’t even realized existed. Any personal relationship between them would require discretion, or eventually cost both of them. But would it cost them? Or be better for both of them? Keith didn’t believe in love between men and women, but he did believe that men and women could have relationships that were both intimate and respectful. It was possible Serena felt the same way. After all, she was thirty, not in a relationship, 141
Abby Gordon
and seemed reserved around the men in the office. Friendly, but she definitely made sure they knew when they crossed the line. Keith couldn’t remember anyone overstepping that line more than once. Just what could happen? Adjusting his tie, he considered. After all, he was known for anticipating things in the boardroom. All right then, he thought, shrugging into his jacket, let’s review. First, he needed to get the books on or in her desk. If she accepted those, then he had the box ready to be delivered to her apartment. From there, it was a matter of bringing her to him. He could easily arrange that through the club. He had ordered a voice disrupter, the masks, and hoods which would arrive the following day. Getting her to trust him was an absolute necessity. After a minimum of a couple weeks, probably closer to a month, he would reveal his identity to her. Worst case—Serena figured it was him and sued him and the company for sexual harassment. Midcase—she rejected the entire scenario before they became intimate and never knew it was him. Best case—she became his sexual submissive. And at work? He smiled. Well, that would certainly make working late more enjoyable. Picking up his briefcase, he walked out of his apartment and to the elevator. It was still early, but he had things to take care of.
To purchase Beck & Call and other erotic titles, visit www.thewilderroses.com. 142
