Hardline Read online

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Hard Limit

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  This book is an original publication of Meredith Wild.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.

  Copyright © 2014 Meredith Wild.

  Cover Design by Meredith Wild.

  Cover photograph: Dreamstime.

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic format without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

  For the family who opened their hearts to me,

  and the two people whose love made that possible.

  CHAPTER ONE

  My phone dinged.

  B: I’m leaving work in twenty minutes.

  I silenced my phone, ignored Blake’s message, and turned my focus back to Alli. She tucked a lock of long brown hair behind her ear and continued to update the team on the weekly stats for our Internet startup, Clozpin. I listened attentively, grateful to have her back on the team.

  Alli had been back in Boston only a few weeks, but she was finally sharing a city and an apartment with Heath again. Heath was happy, she was happy, and I was thrilled to have her reclaim her position as the marketing director after the debacle with Risa. I’d invited Alli back even before letting Risa go for sharing confidential information about the company.

  I winced at the thought. Alli was a fountain of optimism, but Risa’s betrayal still stung me. I hadn’t heard from her since our last meeting, and somehow the silence between us filled me more with dread than anything else. I wanted to doubt her ability to start a competing site with Max, our almost-investor and Blake’s sworn enemy, but the unknown worried me. What if they successfully lured our advertisers away? What if they were able to build something that was legitimately better and filled a need that Clozpin didn’t?

  With the kind of money Max was bringing to the table plus Risa’s inside information gleaned directly from everything I’d learned in my short tenure as CEO of the company, anything was possible. And something about the way she left, filled with so much venom and resentment, spoke to every insecurity I had about running a business. I was still fledgling, without a doubt. I wanted to believe I could hold my own, and in many ways I had, but I had a lot to learn.

  Another text message arrived on my phone, no less distracting as it vibrated against the glass top of the conference table.

  B: Erica?

  I rolled my eyes and quickly tapped out a reply. I knew he’d pester me until I acknowledged him.

  E: I’m in a meeting. I’ll call you after.

  B: I want you naked in my bed by the time I get home. You should leave soon.

  E: I need more time.

  B: I’ll be inside you within the hour. Your office, our bed, your choice. Wrap it up.

  The air in the room was suddenly too cool against my hot skin. I shivered and my nipples beaded, grazing uncomfortably against my shirt. How did he do that? A few well-placed words, delivered via text no less, had me checking my watch.

  “Erica, do you have anything else you want to cover?”

  My eyes locked with Alli’s. She cocked an eyebrow like maybe she knew I wasn’t paying attention. All I could think about were the consequences of keeping Blake waiting, and the physical response to that anticipation was already becoming difficult to ignore. I corralled my thoughts away from Blake’s promises and back to the present.

  “No, I think we’re good. Thanks, everyone.” I collected my things quickly, eager to get moving. I waved off the rest of the group, and they dispersed to their workstations. Alli followed me into my partitioned office.

  “What’s up with Perry? I didn’t want to bring it up at the meeting since it’s kind of an odd situation.”

  “Not much. He emailed me again, but I haven’t replied yet.” I didn’t have time to get into the complexities of that situation right now if I wanted to meet Blake’s deadline.

  “Are you thinking about taking him on as an advertiser?”

  “I’m not sure.” I was still conflicted on the matter.

  Her big brown eyes were wide. “Does Blake know he reached out to you?”

  “No.” I gave her a pointed stare, making it clear without words that I didn’t want him to either. The last time I’d seen Isaac Perry, Blake had him pinned to the wall by his throat threatening to de-limb him if he dared touch me ever again. I didn’t want to make excuses for Isaac’s bad behavior that night, and I didn’t want to forgive him any more than Blake did. But this was business.

  “He’s not going to be happy if you end up working with him.”

  I stuffed my laptop into my bag. “You think I don’t know that?”

  Blake’s associations colored more strategic business decisions than I cared to admit.

  Alli leaned against my desk. “So what are you going to do? Perry must be offering something impressive if you haven’t completely shot him down yet.”

  “Perry Media Group represents a dozen multimedia publications that span the globe. I’m not saying I trust him, but I can at least hear him out.”

  She shrugged. “Whatever you think is best for the company I’ll support. I don’t mind dealing with him directly either, if you’re more comfortable with that.”

  “Thanks, Alli. I’d rather get to the bottom of this myself though. We can talk about it more later. I need to head out. Blake is waiting for me.”

  “Oh, are you going out?” She brightened immediately, her business persona vanishing, replaced by the energetic best friend who made every day a little brighter.

  “Um, we have plans. I’ll see you later,” I said, trying not to sound cryptic before slipping out of the office and waving my goodbyes.

  A minute later I stepped outside into the early August heat. Rush hour traffic pushed by, and my phone rang before I could take my first steps toward home. I groaned and fished it out of my purse. Blake could be maddeningly persistent. When I retrieved it, a Chicago phone number appeared instead.

  “Hello?” I answered tentatively.

  “Erica?”

  “Yes, who is this?”

  “It’s me, Elliot.”

  I brought my hand to my mouth, muffling the sound of my shock at hearing my stepfather’s voice. “Elliot?”

  “Do you have a minute? Is this a bad time?”

  “No, this is fine.” I pushed through the doors of Mocha, the café downstairs, for a reprieve from the heat. “How are you? I haven’t talked to you in forever.”

  He laughed. “I’ve been busy.”

  I smiled to myself. I hadn’t heard that sound in so long.

  “Of course. How
are the kids?”

  “They’re doing really well. Growing up too fast.”

  “I bet. How’s Beth?”

  “She’s fine. She’s back to work now that the kids are in school, so that keeps her busy. We’ve both got our hands full.” He cleared his throat and took an audible breath. “Listen, Erica, I know I haven’t been very good about keeping in touch. Honestly, I feel terrible about it. I really wanted to come to the graduation. Things were just really hectic here—”

  “It’s fine, Elliot. I understand. You have a lot going on.”

  “Thanks.” He sighed quietly. “You’ve always been so level-headed. Even when you were younger. Sometimes I think you had it together more than I did. I know your mother would be proud of the woman you’ve become.”

  “Thanks. I hope so.” I closed my eyes, letting a remembered vision of my mother take over my mind. Despite the strong facade I kept up, my heart hurt at the memory—times when the three of us were happy. That time had been cut short abruptly when my mother was diagnosed with cancer, a disease that ripped through her at an alarming speed and took her from us too soon.

  While our lives had gone in different directions after her death, I hoped Elliot had found happiness with his new wife and their children. Even if it had come at the expense of any normal childhood for me. Boarding school and then college had raised me, yet I couldn’t imagine it any other way. This was my life, and the journey had brought me to Blake, to a life that was finally beginning to take shape now that school was behind me.

  “I have been thinking about Patricia a lot lately. I can’t believe it’s been almost ten years. Life runs away from you sometimes. Made me realize how long it’s been since we talked.”

  “It’s true. The past few years have really been a blur. Especially lately. I was crazy to think I was busy before.” Between the business and my relationship with Blake, my life had been turned upside down a few times over. Just when things started to calm down, life seemed to throw us something new.

  “Well, I’m going to see if we can make it out to Boston soon. I can’t stomach the thought of letting ten years go by without...you know, some kind of acknowledgment. We owe her that much.”

  My mouth curved into a sad smile. “That would be nice. I would like that.”

  “Great. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Let me know if you pick dates, and I’ll coordinate things on my end too.”

  “Perfect. I’ll talk to Beth about it soon and let you know what we decide.”

  “I’ll look forward to it. I’d love to see you again, and of course meet your family.” Your family. The words sounded strange as they left me.

  “Take care, Erica. I’ll be in touch.”

  I said goodbye, but the second I hung up another call came in. My heart sped up when I saw Blake’s number.

  Shit.

  * * *

  I stepped into the apartment and dropped my bags onto the counter in the kitchen. The lights were off, but the afternoon sun peeked in through the shaded windows. As I moved into the living room, I heard Blake’s voice.

  “You’re late.”

  I spun to find him at the bar on the other side of the room. He was shirtless, barefoot, and held a half empty tumbler in his hand. His face was void of emotion yet somehow filled with an intensity that had me immediately on edge. His green eyes seemed to glow in the dim light of the room. His jaw was tight, loosening only briefly to take a drink.

  “I’m sorry. I got a call—”

  “Come here.”

  I let my next words fizzle out unspoken. We weren’t going to be discussing Elliot’s unexpected call, at least not right now. Something was off about the way he looked at me, the unforgiving edge in his voice as he uttered those two little words.

  I walked slowly toward him until we were inches apart and the heat radiated between us. Blake was undeniably gorgeous, male beauty perfected. Tall and lean, his body had my brain regularly short-circuiting. This was no exception. I touched his chest, unable to resist in our proximity. The muscles flinched in response.

  “Take your shirt off,” he said.

  I searched his eyes a moment but found no humor there. He stood before me like a statue, a beautifully carved work of art, cold and unmoving. I feathered my fingers over his abs, trailing them to the band of his jeans slung low on his hips.

  “You okay?” I murmured. I’d seen him like this before. He didn’t need to tell me, because I already knew something or someone had gotten under his skin today.

  He winced, a nearly imperceptible response. “I’ll be better in a minute.”

  Knowing what could get him there, I pulled off my blouse and let it drop to the floor.

  “Better?” I cocked my head, hoping to draw out the playful lover in him.

  His eyes were unchanged, steely as ever. “Don’t make me wait again, Erica.”

  His voice was dangerously low. I held my breath, trying in vain to harness control over my own body’s reactions to him. That potent mix of desire and anticipation welled up inside of me. The details of the day blurred into the background, secondary to the here and now and the domineering man who was moments from fucking away his release and using my body so very well to do it.

  I lowered my hand to the hard outline of his erection and stroked him through the soft worn fabric of his jeans. “I’m here now. Let me make it up to you.”

  He caught my wrist. “You will, trust me.”

  I looked up through my eyelashes. He released me and brought his hand to my chest. He traced the lace hem of my bra and the skin beneath. The simple contact warmed me. He pushed the cup of the bra down roughly, palmed my freed breast, and thumbed my nipple. I leaned into the slow circular motions as a flicker of desire took root in my belly.

  I moaned, and he pinched tightly. I sucked in a breath through my teeth but didn’t push him away. His lip turned up at the corner and a flash of terrible mischief passed over his eyes.

  “Undress and bend over the table.”

  Playful had arrived, but so had someone else.

  I frowned in the direction of the dining area and the large wooden farmhouse table at the center of it. Before I could argue, he swatted my ass and gave me a gentle shove in that direction. I moved quickly and removed my skirt, bra, and panties. I faced the table, resting my hands on the warm textured wood. On the center of the table, lengths of rope were curled into a pile.

  “Down,” he said in a clipped tone.

  He placed his hand between my shoulder blades and pressured me lower. I slid my hands out in front of me, exhaling sharply as the front of my body touched the cool table, the tops of my thighs pressed firmly against the edge. The anticipation held me hostage, robbed me of the ability to make sense of anything but the surety that Blake was taking control now.

  And I’d given him that.

  As soon as I’d walked out of my normal working life and into the apartment we now shared, I went to war with damn near every instinct I had. I handed over all control to the man I loved, trusting that he’d take care of us both. He always did, but sometimes I couldn’t resist the urge to push back just a bit, so he knew I was still there, fighting.

  He ran a cool hand over my ass. I tensed in response to the simple touch. I bit my lip, steadying myself for what always came next.

  “You were twenty minutes late. Do you know what that means?”

  Before I could speak, his hand made sharp contact with my ass. I whimpered at the sharp pain. Then the sting melted, setting off a fiery heat through my body. I arched, pushing back against him.

  “Are you going to punish me?” I asked quietly.

  “Is that what you want?”

  “Yes.” The meekness of my responses still surprised me, considering how far we’d gone and how much I loved those dark places we found in each other. Admitting how much I loved it still took a certain amount of courage.

  “Lucky for you. You’re going to get twenty lashes. I want you to count. Don’t forget,
or I’ll get the belt.”

  Without delay he slapped my ass again, hard enough to echo through the room. The second I caught my breath, I rushed to speak.

  “One.”

  “That’s it.” He delivered another.

  “Two.”

  With every punishing swat, I tightened and grew wetter, a circumstance I still couldn’t quite grasp. But getting spanked drove me fucking crazy. By the time we were in double digits I was clawing at the table, more than ready for the pleasure that came after the delicious pain.

  Twenty.

  I sighed and rested against the table. The relief was short-lived as Blake caught my ponytail and coaxed me up to stand.

  “Up.”

  I straightened, and he spun me. He dropped his jaw, as if to speak, but instead he pulled our bodies together. His skin scorched under mine, and suddenly I wanted him even more. He sealed his lips over mine with a hard kiss. The aroma of scotch mingled with the musk of him. I opened my lips to him, inviting him, wanting his taste on my tongue. He yanked my ponytail gently, breaking the contact.

  “You’re too greedy.”

  I pouted.

  “You’re spoiled, and you don’t listen.”

  “I listen,” I insisted.

  “You may listen, but you don’t obey worth a damn. Playtime is over. You need to learn, and tonight I’m going to teach you.”

  I fought the fear that coiled in my gut. Fear of the unknown. “I’m sorry.”

  “That’s a good start. Get on the table.”

  I hesitated a second and then quickly lifted myself onto the edge. He shook his head and scooted me back.

  “In the middle. Hurry up.”

  I lifted my eyebrows, but rather than question him, I shimmied to the middle. As I did, he circled the table and retrieved the rope from my path.

  “Lie down.”

  I obeyed, and he caught my wrist, extending my arm to reach the corner of the table. With shocking speed and dexterity, he bound my arms to the legs of the table. As he moved to my ankles, I pulled against the rope, testing its security. No give.