Blindfold Vol. 1 Page 8
I just had to make it to the bathroom. It was only a few feet away, but after what seemed like an age, I finally reached it and ducked inside. Yet when I tried to close the door, a hand stopped me.
I shoved against it and he pushed back.
Gently, but inexorably, he pushed. I was strong – damn strong for a woman who’s five foot nothing – but I didn’t have a chance against a guy his size. Not when it came to strength anyway.
He came inside, his eyes intent on my face.
I drew myself up to my full height. In my heels, it was all of five foot three. But I could cut a man off at the knees with my glare, or so I’d been told. “Excuse me, Mr. Lang. I need to use the restroom.”
“Don’t start that shit again.” He jabbed a finger at me.
“I’m sorry?” Widening my eyes in mock innocence, I pressed a hand to my chest.
That was a bad move.
His eyes immediately fell to my breasts, and in response, my nipples hardened. Fortunately, I’d discovered the beauty of lined bras years ago, yet I still had a feeling he knew exactly what sort of reaction he’d caused.
“Don’t do that,” he said, his voice a rough growl. “I had you all but purring my name. Don’t you dare go back to calling me Mr. Lang in that haughty voice again.”
“Mr. Lang—”
“Don’t!”
The snapping fury in his voice ignited my own temper, and I shoved myself up onto my toes, snapping at him. “Excuse me? You don’t get to talk to me in that tone of voice.” I jabbed him in the chest and had the pleasure of watching his eyes widen. “I’m not your doting baby sister who hasn’t figured out yet that you're a total ass. I’m not your employee to boss around. I’m not your anything.”
“Yeah?” He shot out an arm and yanked me against him.
A startled oomph escaped me as I crashed into his chest. His hard, muscled chest.
Fuck.
I shoved my hands between us and wedged as much distance between us as I could.
“Two minutes ago, you were the woman I was getting ready to have wrapped around my cock, sweetheart.”
The smoky heat in his voice made my heart race.
The potent desire in his eyes made my knees weak.
And the arrogance on his face made me want to punch him in the head.
Curling a hand into a fist, I was seriously considering the last option. Out in the parlor, I heard a woman’s voice and I froze.
It wasn’t Isadora.
It was somebody older – and she sounded scared.
“Mr. Lang?”
Ash shot a fulminating glare at the door, but his voice was level as he said, “Just a couple of minutes, Beth.”
“How about now?” I smiled sweetly and pointed towards the door. I needed him away from me.
“Because we’re not done, Princess.”
I gaped at him. Princess? Had he seriously just called me Princess?
He chuckled, apparently amused by the look he’d seen on my face.
“Did you just call me Princess?”
“Yes.” He scraped the tips of his fingers down his jaw, rasping them over the light growth of stubble. Stubble I'd felt scraping against my skin. “I think it suits you. All damn high and mighty, staring down your nose at me.”
“Oh, really?” I sniffed and raked him up and down with a telling look. “I’m not the one who thinks I can snap my fingers and everybody will come rushing to do my bidding.”
There was a flicker in his eyes.
Out in the parlor, I heard Beth again and she sounded really upset. “Mr. Lang, please…”
I started to move toward the door, but he shoved an arm up, blocking me.
“Beth, two minutes isn’t going to hurt!” He all but shouted it.
Then he bent down, placing his lips next to mine. “What do you think, Princess? If I snap my fingers, will you do my bidding?” The hand he’d curved over my hip slid up, up, up until it was right under my breast. “Because I’m tempted to try. See, I’ve been having these fantasies ever since I first saw you.”
I sucked in a breath.
He lifted a hand, snapped his fingers right between our faces.
I jolted and heat exploded through me. My face burned red.
And my pussy…oh, man. I was so wet and so empty, I ached.
“I want to see you on your knees, Toni,” he said, his voice low and rough and raw. “I want you on your knees with your mouth wrapped around my cock.”
I had to swallow my whimper to keep it from escaping. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. I just had to keep remembering that he wasn't the kind of guy I wanted. He was an asshole.
I could see it, me on my knees doing exactly what he’d just described. My mouth was practically watering, and I had to fight to keep myself from reaching out and freeing him from his trousers. Running my fingers up, then down his length. Taking him between my lips. Tasting him...
I jumped as a fist pounded on the bathroom door. “Mr. Lang,” Beth said, her voice plaintive. “Please, this is urgent.”
He snarled and spun away, yanking open the door.
The sight of the ugly snarl on his face froze something in me.
But not as much as the sound of the woman’s voice.
Something was wrong.
I’d heard enough bad news in my life to know that.
Before he could yell at her, I cut between them.
She still stared at him. “Mr. Lang—”
“It couldn’t wait two minutes?” he bellowed.
“It’s probably been five,” I snapped, smacking a hand against his chest when he would have advanced. Then I looked back at the woman. Her pale eyes were overly wide, her breath coming too raggedly. And she was swaying.
Hell.
“Come on,” I said gently, slipping my arm around her waist.
She was only a couple of inches taller than me so it wasn’t hard to guide her over to the closet sofa and she practically poured onto it like water.
“If it’s that damn important–”
“Would you stop?” I hissed as I spun around and glared at him. “She’s terrified. She’s about to pass out, you asshat.”
I don’t know if he finally looked at her or if I’d just startled him into shutting up with the asshat insult, but he blinked and scowled, focusing on the woman who sat, weaving back and forth, on the couch. I crouched in front of her and reached out to take her hands. They were cold and clammy and when I checked, her pulse was racing.
“Beth?”
Her eyes focused on mine. They were a startling shade of light blue. “You’re Toni. Isadora’s assistant.” She smiled weakly. “She likes you.”
“Yeah.” The fact that she’d immediately swung to Isadora had my gut turning to ice. I squeezed her hands. “You said something was wrong. What is it, Beth? What’s wrong?”
She swallowed and her gaze tracked up until she was staring at Ashford.
“She’s…” Beth swallowed. She stopped and squeezed her eyes closed.
I tightened my grasp on her fingers. “Beth, tell us.” I put a hard edge into my voice.
It worked.
She steadied and nodded, looking back at me. “I don’t know what happened, ma’am. She was there. Then she wasn’t. She wanted me to bring her a pitcher...” She froze and shot a look at Ash – at Mr. Lang.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Isadora likes a pitcher of margaritas every now and then,” he snapped. “I gave her the first one a few months ago. I’d rather she drink here than anywhere else. What, did she pass out? Is that all that’s wrong?”
I could have told him that wasn't it.
Beth started to cry. “No, sir. She’s...sir, I can’t find her!”
He had been standing behind me, apparently content to let me handle the weeping female.
Suddenly though, he was the one in front of Beth. I had somehow been moved aside. I hadn’t been shoved or jostled or even rudely pushed. I was just…moved. He had his hands on the o
lder woman’s shoulders and I could see him almost shaking with the effort of restraining himself.
“What did you say?” he demanded, his voice low.
Beth sniffed. “Sir, I tried to tell you it was urgent. Miss Isadora...she’s gone.”
Continues in Blindfold Vol. 2, release September 25th. Click Here to received an email reminder on release day.
All series from M. S. Parker
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French Connection (Club Prive) Vol. 1 to 3
Chasing Perfection Vol. 1 to 4
A Wicked Lie
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FREE BONUS: Casual Encounter Book 1
Casual Encounter
Vol. 1
By M.S. Parker
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 Belmonte Publishing LLC
Published by Belmonte Publishing LLC.
Book Description
My wedding day was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. Instead, my heart was shattered into a million pieces.
When twenty-five year-old Aubree Gamble was left at the altar by her long-time boyfriend, she isn't sure where she's supposed to go from there. Her friends try to help by suggesting everything from hiring a professional to setting her up on blind dates, telling her she needs a casual encounter to move on. Then a mysterious stranger comes to her rescue and Bree thinks that maybe she's met the one person who can help heal her broken heart. What she doesn't know is that her handsome hero isn't the white knight she imagines.
Don't miss the first installment in the Casual Encounters series, the latest by best selling author M.S. Parker.
Chapter 1
Aubree
Everything was perfect.
My wedding dress was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I'd fallen in love with it the moment I'd first seen it at the bridal store and everyone said it was made for me. The only one, of course, who hadn't given an opinion was Ronald, but everyone assured me that he'd love me in it.
As I stood at the back of the church, watching my bridesmaids make the slow walk up the aisle, their royal purple dresses shimmering, I hoped everyone was right. I wanted today to be the most special day of my life. I was marrying the man I loved and I'd remember this day forever.
Then came the wedding march and my dad gave me a supportive smile. We started down the aisle and the audience stood. All eyes were on me, but… no one was smiling. In fact, the expression on every face – my friends, my family, my co-workers – was one of pity. I didn't understand. What was wrong?
I was halfway toward the front when I looked up. My bridesmaids were all there, lined up in order. My two closest friends, my sister-in-law and my cousin. Their face held pity as well. I looked to my right. The groomsmen were all there, including my brother, but I didn't see Ronald anywhere.
My heart began to pound as my father and I kept walking. Where was Ronald? Why wasn't anyone stopping the music and looking for him? Why was the priest just standing there, a solemn expression on his face?
Suddenly, the pressure on my arm was gone. I looked to my right but my father had disappeared. A glance to my left and found him sitting with my mother now and they were both looking expectantly at the priest. I turned toward the old man as well.
“Dearly beloved,” he intoned in a flat voice. “We are gathered her to witness the humiliation of Bree Gamble as her fiancé Ronald Peterman has chosen to desert her on their wedding day...”
I jerked awake, a protest on my lips and breathed a sigh of relief as I flopped back down onto my pillows. My pulse was racing and there was a thin sheen of sweat on my skin despite the air conditioning in my tiny bedroom.
It was a dream. A nightmare. Sort of.
I turned my head and in the dim early morning light, made out the stack of presents sitting in the corner of my room. Their unopened paper and untouched ribbons reminded me that it was a nightmare based on reality. While the events hadn't played out the same way, the ‘humiliation of Bree Gamble’ had occurred.
I rolled away from the gifts and punched my pillow a few times, wishing it was Ronald’s face instead. He and I had dated for five years, then been engaged for nearly two. Everything had been perfect – until that day. I'd been standing in front of the mirror, waiting for my maid of honor to come and tell me it was time. Instead, she'd come into the bridal room looking both pissed and upset in equal measure. Ronald had left... with our wedding coordinator.
Over the past week, I learned that the two of them had slept together one night when Ronald had volunteered to go over the seating arrangements because I'd been sick. Now, they were living together in the apartment we'd picked out, leaving me to figure out the best way to return all of the gifts we'd never opened.
I closed my eyes for a moment, wishing I could block out my memories as easily as I could the gray light. The pain was still fresh, but I supposed that was normal. It had just happened last weekend. This past week, I'd intended to be on my honeymoon, but instead, I'd given the tickets to my parents, hoping the Caribbean cruise would make up at least some of the cost of the wedding. I hadn't gone crazy with it, but I was the only girl, so my parents had been more than happy to pay for the wedding of my dreams.
I barked a harsh laugh. For the past nine nights, I'd been learning the hard way that there was a difference between a day-dream wedding and an actual dream wedding. I sat up and raked a hand through my short, cocoa-colored curls. I was still getting used to that. My hair had been down to the middle of my back last week, but on Wednesday, tired of moping around the house and avoiding phone calls, I'd decided I wanted to make a change. I'd gone into a stylist and gotten my hair cropped shorter than it had ever been before. Even I didn’t recognize me sometimes.
I glanced at the clock. Five minutes until my alarm was scheduled to go off so no point in laying back down. I climbed out of bed. Other than that one little foray to the salon, today is the first day I ventured outside my apartment since my non-wedding. I hadn't even gone to the teachers' meeting on Friday.
Headmaster Norris had already given me permission to miss the meeting for my honeymoon, so she was willing to give me time off for my bittermoon as well. She’d been pretty sympathetic and it hadn't taken much to convince her I was having a hard time pulling myself together. That wasn't entirely true. I wasn't falling apart. Sure, I'd spent pretty much the entire week in my pajamas, sitting on the couch binge watching television shows online, but I wasn't breaking down in tears or drowning my sorrows in alcohol. Double chocolate fudge ice cream worked just as well.
I was actually looking forward to getting back to work, getting my mind off of things. One of the reasons I'd been thrilled to get hired at Legacy Academy last year had been their rigorous academic standards. Their students were among the brightest in all of Chicago. Keeping lesson plans that would engage, interest and challenge students whose IQs were in the gifted to genius ranges was quite a challenge.
The one thing I wasn't looking forward to, however, would be the questions from students and staff as to why the diamond ring they'd gushed over hadn't been joined by a wedding band, but had, rather, disappeared. Only a couple of the other teachers at Legacy had been invited to the wedding, but I was hoping they'd at least told the faculty what had ha
ppened. I didn't want to spend the entire first day having to repeat that story.
Almost unconsciously, my thumb rubbed against the inside of my ring finger. In the two years I'd worn it, I'd gotten in the habit of playing with my engagement ring. Ever since I'd taken it off and mailed it back to Ronald, I'd found myself behaving as if it was still there.
My phone buzzed as I finished laying out my clothes. I glanced at the name before swiping the screen to read the full message. I'd gotten a text apology from Ronald a few days ago and ever since then, I felt a knot of dread inside me whenever my phone alerted me to a text.
This one, however, was from my best friend, Adelle Merriman-Dane. She and I had grown up next door to each other in one of Chicago's middle class suburbs and we'd been inseparable almost from moment one. Our birthdays were even only two weeks apart, with me being the older one. We'd been through a lot together. My mom's breast cancer, her father's heart-attack. Her marriage at twenty-two and then being widowed just six months later. Everything had just brought us closer together. She'd been the one to tell me about Ronald leaving and the one who’d held me while I cried, telling me I'd feel better in time.
I read through her text, the tension inside me easing when I saw that it wasn't more bad news.
Hey sweetie, wishing you luck on your first day back. Don’t let the little hellions get to you. Don't forget dinner at L20. You, me and Mindy are getting our wine on Friday night!
I managed a faint smile as I sent back a quick thank you and five emoji shaped bottles of wine. Adelle and I had made Friday dinners a thing since we were in college, though those had usually consisted of pizza in our dorm room. When she'd married a dot-com billionaire, we'd started going through the finer restaurants in Chicago. By the time I met Mindy at Legacy while we were both student teaching three years ago, Adelle and I had regular reservations at L20, a beautiful seafood restaurant with amazing service and even better food. Adding one more to our table hadn't been difficult.