Page 23 of A Secret and a Lie
“You know why I can’t submit, Corinne.”
She sighs, a gentle smile on her lips, one that tells me she’s about to give it to me straight. “Yes, but what would be so wrong with getting to know him before writing him off? What if you can trust him?”
Tears prick the backs of my eyes at her optimism. She’s always seen the good in the world, and while dancing too close to the inferno has burned us both before, she’s never let it dull her light. It’s what I admire most about her.
I’m far more cynical. When I stepped too close to the fire, I didn’t escape; I fell into the pyre, and the flames engulfed me. I have the scars to prove it, even if I’m the only one who can see them.
“You know that you’re the only person I trust. Marcus is a close second, but it’s just you and me, babe.” I smile at her reassuringly. Ididn’t answer her question, but we both know that I won’t. I can’t afford to trust anyone else. The stakes are too high.
She smiles back at me. “Please think about unlocking the vault in your chest for someone other than me and Marcus at some point, okay?”
I nod, guilt and regret wedging themselves tightly inside my throat.
Corinne sashays out of my office just as I get a notification that my next client has arrived. Shedding my cream top, leaving me in my leather bra, I hang it in the closet in my office and freshen up in the Jack and Jill bathroom I share with my playroom. When I’m finished, I strip out of my slacks and step into my leather miniskirt and knee-high lace-up boots.
Inside my playroom, I find my sub in the middle of the floor, naked on her knees.
“It’s been a long time since we played, Donna. Remind me, what’s your safe word?” I ask, moving over to the armoire and selecting a flogger.
“Liar, Madam Allison.”
“That’s right,” I tell her, closing the doors. “We have a lot of ground to cover. We better get to it.”
Ford
My phone lights up, and I glance over to find Drake’s name flashing across the screen. Reaching for the device, I flip it over on the glass conference room table, before returning my attention to the CFO of Crawford Enterprises.
His voice is becoming harder to focus on the longer he drones on about quarterly financials and payroll. I’m having difficulty concentrating on anything other than my upcoming meeting with Genevieve—Allison?—tonight. I’ve sacrificed sleep and work to research the shit she sent me. While that answered some of my blooming questions, it did nothing to quell my thirst to know more abouther.
Though, I suspect that getting the answers to those questions is going to be more challenging than an internet search.
“We need a few signatures from you before you go, sir.”
Sir.
Genevieve has ruined that word for me. While it doesn’t have my dick twitching when coming from the mouth of my CFO, I can’t help but remember the way it sounded falling from vastly different lips. Lips that have haunted my thoughts like a restless apparition.
When I’m in the car, I instruct James to take me to Genevieve’s building and call Drake back. He answers on thefirst ring.
“We need to meet…as soon as possible,” he states without preamble.
My blood turns cold. “Ten, my place.”
Drake pauses for a moment, then asks, “Do you have an…appointment tonight?”
“Yes.” My nerves are on edge, and I reach for the Glock I keep beneath my seat.
“Ford.” Drake sounds concerned, andnothingunsettles that man. I’ve seen him walk fearlessly into a firefight, taking out eight gunmen in the middle of a bust gone wrong. “You need to be careful, really fucking careful. She’s pissed off the wrong people.”
“I’ll see you tonight,” I tell him before hanging up. Immediately, I untuck my dress shirt and stuff my gun into the back of my shirt before re-tucking it, deciding to ditch the suit jacket entirely this evening.
When James drops me off, I instruct him to wait for me. Drake’s call has me on edge, and no fucking way am I sending away my getaway car.
Following the instructions, I enter the lobby, ignoring the muscled security men milling about, and punch in the temporary access code.
This time, when the elevator doors part, my throat goes dry as filthy thoughts infiltrate my mind. I find Genevieve lounging on the couch, clad in a fitted, short black dress with gold buttons down the front, her long, tanned legs on display, accentuated by her shiny black stilettos.
I imagine touching her, exploring her as I smooth a hand up her thigh, gliding the pads of my fingertips over every inch of her flesh while I run my tongue down her sternum. I want toknowher, and I can’t quite decipher the exact reason for this quickly growing obsession, but it’s undeniable at this point.
