Page 41 of His to Keep
“You won’t be alone,” I try. “You can go sit with Mick until—”
Her eyebrow goes up. “You think Mick is who I need right now?”
I glare over her head at Roth. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to give him a few more minutes with all his limbs and appendages—not like he deserves it. But it will be easy enough to find the asshole later, once I make sure my girl is okay.
I take her hand in mine. “Let’s go.” Then I glare at Roth. “We’re not done.”
“No, we most definitely are not,” he says, voice oily. But my attention has shifted to the woman at my side, my only concern right now. As I pull her to the front door, he calls after her. “I expect to hear from you soon, Rebecca.”
Her hand tenses in mine and it’s everything I can do to keep walking and not go back to kick his ass. But Rebecca is scared and worked up and she said she needed me. And nothing else matters as much as that.
Rebecca is shaking by the time I have her tucked in the car. Mick looks stricken as he glances back at her in the rearview mirror and I can tell he’s regretting his decision not to follow her inside. I kind of want to shake him myself, but how was he to know Roth was a threat? There will be time to go over security procedures for Rebecca later. Mainly, she’s never to leave his sight when I’m not around. I’m making him her full time driver. Hell, maybe I need to look into hiring professional security for her.
“Your hands are shaking,” she whispers, and I look down to see that she’s not the only one who’s trembling.
“I told you to go to the car,” I say gruffly.
“True. But then you wouldn’t be sitting here with me.”
I refuse to let her sweetness soften me. “Do you have any idea what it did to me to see him with his hands on you? What were you thinking, letting yourself be alone with him?”
“I didn’t think he would do anything in the lobby,” she says softly.
“What did he say to you?” I demand. “Why the fuck was he touching you?”
Her eyes dart up to Mick in the front seat and I can tell she doesn’t want to talk about this in front of him.
“He’s signed a dozen NDAs,” I say softly. “He overhears billion-dollar tech secrets on a weekly basis driving me around.”
She doesn’t look convinced. “Can we talk later?” she whispers. “After work?”
“We’re not going to fucking work,” I snap. “Mick, back to the penthouse.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Luke—“
“Don’t argue with me,” I order her in a low voice. “I’m about ready to take my belt to your ass for disobeying me back there.”
She goes quiet, turning her face to the door, and I immediately regret my words. This is all new territory for me. I’m used to short term encounters with submissives at the club. We do a scene or two, maybe repeating our interaction for a few weeks at the most. Nothing happens outside that building. I don’t have to worry about their real lives or their feelings beyond what goes on in my play room. I give orders and they obey. Mete out punishments when they break the rules, which they happily accept.
It’s a much simpler arrangement, but I know there’s no way I’ll ever be able to go back to it. Not after this weekend with Rebecca.
I take her hand in mine and squeeze, hoping the small bit of comfort helps until we can be alone and hammer this all out.
I text Emily from the car and ask her to have tea and pastries waiting. I know Rebecca hasn’t eaten anything yet, and the way her hands keep shaking is starting to worry me. I wrap an arm around her as I hurry upstairs to my penthouse.
She’s full on shivering when we reach my floor and I realize she’s still wearing my t-shirt from this morning. I curse myself for not insisting that she take a sweatshirt or jacket.
“Here,” I tell her, pushing a mug of tea into her hands. “Drink this.”
“I should call Wesley,” she says. “Let him know—“
“I already texted Wesley.”
She raises an eyebrow, finally losing some of the frozen paleness that had been locked on her face. “Is he ready to kill you for ditching him?”
“He does work for me, you know.”
