Page 7 of Surrender to Me

The attendant glanced up, offering a polite but slightly curious look. “Yes, ma’am. Where to?” I hesitated for half a second, then pulled the card from my clutch and read the address printed beneath his name. The attendant typed something into the system and then nodded. “We can have a car take you now. Follow me.”

A car?I shrugged slightly and trailed behind him. I slid into the backseat of a black SUV, my legs crossed tightly, my mind racing a mile a minute.

What the hell am I walking into?

Is he into some kinky shit?

What if this is some secret sex dungeon setup?

I had no idea what Legend’s tastes were. Maybe he liked to tie women up and leave them hanging from the damn ceiling. Maybe he was into some Fifty Shades-level bondage shit. My pulse skipped at the thought. I had spent my whole life being in control, climbing my way up, fighting for every inch of my success. And yet, the idea of giving it up—if only for a couple of days—had my stomach tightening in anticipation. I swallowed hard, pressing my thighs together.

Glancing out the window, the resort lights faded behind us with the dark, winding road leading to whatever the hell awaited me. Soon, the SUV pulled up to a stunning beachfront villa, secluded, massive, and silent except for the sound of crashing waves. I stepped out, grabbing my suitcase and adjusting my dress as I walked toward the front door.

I hesitated for a fraction of a second, my hand hovering over the door before finally knocking. It opened almost instantly and there he was. Bare chest. Tattoos everywhere. Grey sweatshorts hanging low on his hips.

My mouth went dry. His tattoos looked even darker under the dim porch light, black ink sprawling over dark brown skin, and thick veins running down his forearms. His broad shoulders blocked everything behind him, and I had to tilt my head to meet his eyes. Eyes that didn’t hold a single ounce of surprise. Like he had expected me all along. Like he knew I’d come.

He leaned against the doorframe, voice low, rough, pulling something deep in my belly. “Right on time.”

I swallowed, ignoring the way my body was already betraying me. “I almost didn’t come.”

He smirked. “But you did.”

I didn’t answer. I watched his gaze drag over me slowly, appreciative, assessing, dark as sin. I took a slow breath, forcing myself to hold his gaze. “So what happens now?”

His smirk deepened. And then, in a voice that was pure heat and command, he said, “Now? You walk inside and you do exactly as I say.”

Iswallowed hard, reminding myself that there was no turning back. Legend didn’t move back to let me in. Instead, he reached for my suitcase to roll inside and then his large hands gripped my waist, pulling me close until I was pressed against the heat of his bare chest.

I barely had time to react before he dipped his head, inhaling slowly against the crook of my neck. “You smell amazing,” he murmured, his voice a rough, velvet scrape against my skin.

I shivered, pulse kicking up, because how the hell was this man already disarming me with a single sentence? “Thank you,” I breathed, trying to sound composed, but my voice wavered just enough to make him smirk.

His grip tightened briefly—like he was testing how I felt against him—before he finally pulled back, those dark eyes still pinning me in place.

“Drink?” he asked.

“Definitely,” I exhaled, needing a distraction before my body betrayed me completely.

He nodded and turned, giving me a full, unrestricted view of his place as I slipped off my heels. It was dope.

Everything was modern and luxurious without trying too hard. A massive sectional in deep charcoal sat in the middle of the open living space, facing a wall-to-wall window that framed the ocean like a goddamn painting. The moonlight reflected off the glassy surface of an infinity pool just outside, the faint sound of waves mingling with the low bass of some R&B track playing in the background.

But what really caught my attention was the faint scent lingering in the air. Weed. Subtle, but there. Before I could even form the question, Legend spoke—like he had read my mind.

“You smoke, sweetheart?”

I glanced at him as he strode toward the mini-bar, muscles flexing as he reached for a bottle of Tequila.“Sometimes,” I admitted, slipping my clutch onto the counter. “I cansmellyou do.”

His smirk was slow, knowing. “Sometimes.” Which probably meant all the damn time. He grabbed a glass, poured the Tequila over ice, and then gestured for me to follow him.

I hesitated, but only for a second before trailing behind him down a hallway, the whole time acutely aware of how powerful, effortless, and dominant this man moved. It was low key unsettling… and fucking sexy.

His bedroom was just as impressive as the rest of the house, but less about the design and more about the energy. Dark, masculine. Soft lighting, massive bed, another floor-to-ceiling window with an uninterrupted view of the ocean. Legend handed me my drink, eyes flicking down the length of me as I took the glass.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he murmured, moving to the dresser.

I exhaled slowly, turning to look around before sitting down at the edge of the bed, my dress riding up just a little as I crossed my legs.

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