Submission

Chapter Three

“You know, you need a housekeeper or a cook.” James’ voice early the next afternoon had her jumping in startled awareness as she finished filling the coffeepot.

She turned, facing him, thinking what a shame it was that one man would have such sexual presence.

He stood propped against the doorway, dressed in dark blue silk slacks and a lighter blue silk shirt. His jacket was held at his shoulder by the crook of his finger, and his green eyes regarded her with lustful secrets.

“I’m perfectly capable of cooking my own meals and cleaning my home.” She shrugged. She had been raised to do for herself, and cleaning gave her something to do, a way to occupy her hands when her body was filled with restless energy.

He straightened from the doorframe, walking to the table with a casual male grace that threatened to take her breath. She turned quickly from him, moving to the cabinet to retrieve her coffee cup. She fought to still her shaking hands, the nervousness in her stomach that wouldn’t seem to go away. She felt immature, like a quaking child before him. It was…unbalancing.

“What if you became busy? Or found a lover?” he asked her then.

Ella fought back her panic. She felt aged, past the time when she could have worried about the future, or a man in her life.

“I’m not looking for a lover, James.” She poured her coffee, moving with what she hoped was casual unconcern to the work isle in the center of the room.

She leaned her hip against it, lowering her head as she concentrated on stirring cream and sugar into the dark liquid. She was aware that he was watching her, his eyes dark, intent. She was well aware of his desire for her; a desire she knew wouldn’t last beyond the moment. She had no illusions about herself. She was growing older, and her body was slowly showing the signs of it. It wasn’t something she worried much about, until she was faced with James. He made her feel young, made her feel desired, and it was dangerous to allow herself to be convinced that it could go further. Too dangerous for her heart.

She watched as he laid the jacket over the back of a chair then moved to the cabinet and snagged a cup for himself. His arm reached up, muscles bunching in his shoulders and back. She shivered, her hands itching to touch him, to feel the strength of motion beneath his flesh.

He turned back to her, leaning against the counter as he regarded her quizzically.

“Do you have a lover?”

His voice was whisky rough and dark. It caused arousal to zip along her nerve endings, her skin to become sensitive, needy for his touch. She hated it.

“That’s really none of your business.” She fought to stay in control. He would leave soon; she knew Jase depended on him at the corporate offices. Not that she understood any of the legal talk she had ever heard in the past, but his job, she knew, was complicated and often required late nights and full days. She was hoping that would keep him out of her hair for the most part.

“Maybe I want to make it my business.” His voice hardened imperceptibly as he watched her, his gaze brooding.

Ella couldn’t stop the surprise that she knew was reflected on her face. She blinked over at him, her chest tightening in unwanted excitement, her vagina throbbing in unwanted preparation for his touch.

“Why would you want to?” She couldn’t understand his desire for her in any way.

“I’m not in the market for complications, James. A lover is, by his very nature, a complication.”

He tilted his head, his lips quirking in amusement as she raised the coffee cup to her lips.

“Don’t you ever get horny, Ella?” She nearly dropped the cup. The coffee she had just taken into her mouth threatened to choke her as it went down the wrong way.

She wheezed, her eyes widening, tearing as she stared at him in shock.

“For God’s sake,” she bit out when she could breathe again. “Is that any of your business, in any way, James?”

“Actually, it is.” He shrugged his shoulders with deceptive laziness. “I want you, Ella. I want to lay you down and touch you in all the ways a man can. I want to fuck you until you’re screaming out in agony, because it feels so damned good it hurts. So yeah.” He nodded. “It’s my business.”

The breath lodged in her throat. She felt her cunt cream, her thighs tremble at the thought of him powering into her, fucking her as she screamed. She had never screamed, never wanted anything desperately enough to beg. But she couldn’t have James. Anger, directed at herself, at him, poured through her.

She felt her face flush, her body tremble, as she fought for control.

“Sorry, James.” She smiled tightly. “I’m really not in the market for a toy boy this year. I guess you just lucked out.”

She didn’t give him time to reply. Before he could cut her down, before he could tempt her further, she swept from the room, rushing to the safety of her bedroom where her control wasn’t as important. Where it wouldn’t matter if the tears that filled her eyes escaped. All that mattered was that James didn’t know.