Page 58 of Compelled Obedience

I backed away, no clue what he was thinking, but there was no denying who I was any longer. He swept his heated gaze down to my dancing boots, the dimple on his chin becoming more pronounced. When he was finally able to climb off the bed, he took a few seconds ensuring Casey would remain asleep, pulling the covers up to the little boy’s chin.

Only then did he finally give me his full concentration, his entire demeanor becoming more demanding as he nodded toward the door.

For a few seconds, I felt like a bad little girl who’d been called into her father’s office for punishment. Maybe that was because I knew my lack of trust for him was a slap in the face. He had every right to be angry with me.

I turned around, backing away as he eased Casey’s door partially closed. As he came closer, he did so with such controlled steps that I stopped moving, preferring to stand my ground. If he was going to be angry with me, then I’d face it and whatever punishment he felt necessary to provide.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

“I didn’t want to hurt Casey, Grant. He’s been through too much in his life.”

He nodded. “I hope you’ll trust me enough to tell me what and how.”

“Maybe I can. My life isn’t a fairytale.”

“Maybe not but you adore each other.”

I bit my lower lip. “Yes, we do.”

What was I thinking? I’d gone from refusing to allow any man to control even a small part of me to surrendering to my boss, a man I barely knew? I chewed on my inner lip, waiting as he took his sweet time closing the distance. Then he cupped my face, his hold so tight that it stripped my breath away.

He lowered his head, but this wasn’t about romance. I could tell by the way his eyes pierced mine that he was searching for the real woman inside, not the one hiding behind costumes or invisible masks. His chest rose and fell as if he’d been running a marathon and while I wasn’t frightened of him, an entirely different level of apprehension and anxiety settled in.

I didn’t want to disappoint him.

The realization hit me hard.

“You need to trust me.”

“I know.”

“You lied to me,” he finally said in a deep, husky voice, the tone enough to allow tingles to sweep through every muscle.

“Yes, sir.”

“You won’t do it again.”

“No, sir. I promise I won’t.” Why was I so breathless?

“You do understand what will happen if you break your promise, don’t you?”

“I think I have a general idea.”

“Good girl,” he whispered in his sultry, commanding bedroom voice.

Then he tightened his hold on my jaw, rubbing his thumb across my lips then thrusting it inside my mouth. Without being asked, I sucked in the thick digit, never blinking as I stared into his eyes. After a few seconds, he lifted his head, slowly removing his hold. There was something about the act that was far more intimate than anything we’d done up to this point, so personal that my heart skipped several beats.

“You will need to learn to trust me. I won’t harm you, but I will hurt you when necessary. There is a difference.”

I wrapped my hand around his wrist, dragging my tongue up and down his thumb until he shook his head slowly.

“Yes, you can be such a bad girl. Can’t you?”

He laughed seductively then turned me around, the man completely in charge. When he placed his hand on the small of my back, pushing me toward the kitchen, the feeling of being cared for replaced everything else. I moved toward the refrigerator, trying to catch my breath.

I finally turned around, still uncertain what to say to him.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, lifting a single eyebrow. There was a slight look of amusement on his face, but I sensed he was disturbed about my behavior and would be for some time to come.

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