“Calm down, Elizabeth. I know none of those things. I was curious about the firm that fired you. We use them for some of our accounting. I asked my Human Resources department to pull a basic report on your employment with Carter, Pastack, and Hayes. I know you are thirty-two and that you were born in Seattle and moved here five years ago. I know when you started at Carter, Pastack, and Hayes. And that is it. I do not wish to learn about you from areport.”
Elizabeth yanked her hands free.“You’re a pompous ass, Alexander. Thank you for the coffee and the breakfast. Enjoy your board meeting.” With that, she turned and marched out into thestorm.
“Welcome home, sir.” Samuel, Alexander’s majordomo, held the front door open forhim.
Wearily, Alexander climbed the Brownstone’s stairs, giving only a passing glance to the holiday lights that hadn’t been there thismorning.
He needed a drink. All day, his thoughts had continually strayed to Elizabeth and her dismissal of him. “I’m knackered, Samuel. Once you’ve set out my luggage, take the rest of the eveningoff.”
“It’s already done,sir.”
Once in his suite, Alexander stripped on the way to the bath. Four shower heads massaged his body, the hot water sluicing down his well-muscled back. He braced his head on his forearms pressed against the wall. After Elizabeth’s indignant departure at the Thinking Cup, he’d tried to focus on his work, but had failed miserably. She wanted nothing to do withhim.
His cock sprang to life under the heat of his thoughts. He hadn’t had more than a passing fling in recent memory. Every woman he’d dominated or tried to dominate had left him unfulfilled. Since he’d moved to Boston, he’d had no trouble enticing a playmate, but they were all interested in one thing. Bedding a billionaire. Few were adventurous enough to put themselves in his silks and those that were always seemed to treat their play like a game, not the true submission hecraved.
He spilled soap into his hand and wrapped his fist around the hardening flesh of his cock. His hips took on a mind of their own as thoughts of Elizabeth consumed him. The brilliance of her smile, the light in her eyes, and even the indignation when he’d told her he’d researched her. Everything about the woman fascinated him. He imagined her moaning his name, blindfolded, her slender wrists confined in his silk restraints. “Alexander, please, fuckme.”
He wanted her begging for release, screaming his name. His balls tightened, and he groaned as his load hit the shower’s polished rockwall.
He’d not fantasized about a woman in years. Not a specific woman anyway. A woman’s body, perhaps. Breasts, pink from his silk and suede flogger, buttocks reddened from his hand, nipples held in his clamps with the black silktassels.
Alexander favored hemp and silk, as the sensual textures enhanced a woman’s pleasure. He cared little for his own release. He took his enjoyment from a woman’s submission. He always came, of course, but long after his subs had given up multipleorgasms.
A bit of his tension gone, Alexander toweled off and then flopped down naked on his bed. He had Elizabeth’s number and resolved to try one last time. Just a text; what harm could itdo?
Elizabeth, my apologies for this morning. I was curious about you. I suppose I could have stalked your Facebook page—assuming you have one. But that’s toopersonal.
He ran out of characters and swore, thenreworded.
I merely wanted to know a bit about you. A starting point for more. I was wrong. Please forgive the cock-up.
After the message disappeared, he set the phone down but kept checking the device as he went about his evening. It wasn’t until nearly eleven that his phonebuzzed.
Thank you. It was rude of me to storm out. You were wrong, but I was too. I’msorry.
He grinned. Anopening.
What is your favoritecolor?
Purple. What an odd question. But fine. I’ll play your game for a moment.Yours?
Blue. I said I wanted to get to know you. How else do you propose I do so? Night owl or earlybird?
Early bi taew ho;aier wafsd vho;x
He frowned at herresponse.
Elizabeth? What’swrong?
Sorry. My kettle went off, and while I was in the kitchen, River played with myphone.
Alexander sat up. Who the hell was River? A child? The text had been gibberish. His fingers fumbled with his nextmessage.
River?
My cat. RiverSong.
He laughed with relief.Doctor Who? Everything Alexander learned about her left him hungry for more, but his eyes were gritty and tired, and the clock tormentedhim.
I must sleep now. I’m up at five. May I text you tomorrow night? I will be in England for a few days, but I would like to continue to get to knowyou.
Why?
Because you have a spark about you. And I wish to see how bright it burns. Sleep well,chérie.
Good night,Alexander.
He fell asleep with a smile on hisface.
