Page 46 of Sub Mission

Chapter 12

Baker

The doorbell blasted through the house, interrupting my nap and pissing me off at the same damn time. How many goddamned times could she possibly forget the code to my locks? She’d practically moved in with me when I’d returned from my Miami assignment but, even after two full weeks and one day, three hundred and thirty-seven hours, she still forgot the code to my locks over half the time. I considered ignoring the annoying chimes and not hitting the automatic unlock from my remote but knew she would simply keep hitting the doorbell—she was antagonistic like that.

I reached for the remote, hit unlock, turned my back to the bedroom door, and buried my head into a pillow. Maybe she would take pity on me and drop off what she’d picked up at the store and then leave me in peace. Pity parties required peace so, therefore, I needed peace because I was hosting the most impressive pity party in the history of mankind.

I hadn’t lost my composure until the third day. On days one and two, I kept telling myself he would come for me. There was absolutely no way I could have fallen madly in love with someone who wouldn’t…orcouldn’tlove me back. It just wasn’t possible. The doubts hit me on day three. I was sick on day four. Angry on day five. Furious on day six. Deep, dark depression had settled in on day seven and that motherfucking bitch hadn’t left. To be honest, she didn’t look like she’d be leaving anytime in my near future.

I would have starved if Sammie hadn’t force-fed me…literally. With two broken wrists, I was about as useless as a human could be. The jury was still out on whether I should be thankful that Sammie stepped up or blame her for not letting me die just to end my torment.

When I heard her footsteps coming down the hall, I decided to blame her for all my misery. In a way, it was her fault. She’d been the one to suggest me for the assignment. She’d been the one that told me I’d be a perfect sub forhim—yes, I refused to say his name, even inside my head. She’d been the one to ship me off to Colorado with a pat on the head and note in my pocket.

Bitch.

I wanted to hate her but couldn’t. It wasn’t her fault that I hadn’t been enough for…him.

The footsteps stopped at my doorway, but I could feel the eyeballs drilling into my back. I thought about pretending to be asleep, but then remembered that I’d had to hit the remote to unlock the doors. Since that wouldn’t work, I’d try being mean. Maybe that would make her finally walk out on me, once and for all. “So help me, Sammie, if you come at me with more food, I’m going to bitch-slap you. I’m not even kidding either. I can feed myself. I can do everything for myself. Please leave. I just need some peace and quiet. I’ll be back in the office next year. I promise.” I’d only been with the agency long enough to have earned two weeks’ vacation, but I didn’t care. They’d be lucky if I ever walked through the office doors again. She could fire me if she wanted to. It wasn’t like I needed the money, my grandparents had left me a hefty trust fund.

That was me—trust fund baby. Heavy on the cash, light on the love.

The story of my life.

“Hey, Babe,” a husky voice said. No, notahusky voice.Thehusky voice. The husky voice that I’d thought belonged tome.

I whipped around and, sure enough, there stood Seth…right in my bedroom doorway, looking all hot and fucking perfect. Well, other than the fact that he looked tired, with black rings under his beautiful gray eyes. When I looked in the mirror, I saw the same thing. “Wh…what are you doing here?” I stammered.

Seth was inmyhouse!

He took a deep breath, and answered, “I came for you, Baker.”

I didn’t take a deep breath—just roared, “Did you fuckingwalkfrom Colorado?” I would have thrown a pillow at him if my wrists weren’t broken and in casts. “Are you serious? It’s been two weeks, Seth. Two long fucking weeks! What? You had to see if you got any better offers before you settled? What’s the story? Please tell me. I’m all ears.”

Don’t jump up and tackle him. Don’t jump up and tackle him. Try to find some dignity hidden deep down inside. Just try!

There was no dignity to be found. When my mouth opened again, it was to say, “Never the fuck mind—get in this bed with me!” I flipped the covers back and silently sent a ‘thank you’ prayer to Sammie for forcing me to finally take a shower this morning.

A sexy grin split his face and he was on top of me in a mere second. His muscled weight pressed me into the soft mattress and my body sang hallelujah. My hands…well, fingers since most of each hand was trapped in casts, reached up to clasp the sides of his face and I whispered, “Kiss me. Please kiss me.”

He kissed me softly, teasing my lips with butterfly kisses for a few minutes, and then shoving his tongue inside my mouth and tasting every inch of me. I gave as good as I got. His scent wrapped around me, offering a cocoon of happiness that I never wanted to leave. My legs opened wide to give him room to make himself at home. I was so happy, a stupid giggle bubbled up from my throat.

Not cool. Not cool, at all.

“What took you so damn long?” I demanded when we finally came up for air.

“I thought you left me, Baker. You’d already boarded the jet before I left the police station. Landon told me you wanted to go home.” He closed his eyes and when he opened them again, they were damp with unshed tears. “I didn’t find the letter until last night, babe. I thought you were finished with me and I kept telling myself to step aside and let you be happy. I…I had no idea you were waiting on me to come for you. It’s been hell without you in my world, Baker. Please don’t ever do that to me again.”

Frowning, I asked, “How did you not get my letter? I left it right on the countertop for you—next to the refrigerator.”

“I couldn’t go back to the penthouse after Landon told me you’d left. I…just couldn’t. I didn’t want to see all the reminders of…of what I’d never have. Last night when Ari started digging through the boxes that they’d brought back from Miami, he found the letter and gave it to me.”

“Who the fuck is Ari?” I demanded, angrily. I could just imagine some hot little twinky sub digging through Seth’s personal belongings in between scenes.

He laughed. “Ari is Arizona—Landon’s son. His desk is next to mine at the office. That’s where the boxes were.” He dropped his head, shook it, and said, “Fuck, Baker, I almost tossed those boxes without ever looking inside.” Despair made his voice sound raw. “What if I’d never seen the letter? What if we’d both just gone our separate ways, each believing the other didn’t want us?”

“That wouldn’t have happened, Tart,” I mocked. “The minute my wrists were healed, I planned on flying to Colorado to kick your ass. I think the truth might have come out then.”

He nuzzled my lips and whispered, “I’ve missed your sweetness and especially the tartness. I’m never letting you go, Baker. I hope you know that. I’ll move, or you’ll move. One way or another, we’re together. Got it?”

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