Raw Ch. 04

He took the magazine out of my hands, and then he pulled me toward him, onto his lap. "You're thinking about him, aren't you? Wishing you'd stayed?"

My eyes flew open at that. "No! I do not want to go back to him."

When I tried to pull away, Malcolm tightened his embrace. I finally relented and stopped struggling.

"That's not what I asked."

I glared up at him. "I don't want him. I want you."

"But you were thinking about him?"

"Only that the man who wrote that article was not the man in the restaurant. Not the man in the bedroom."

Malcolm brushed my hair back from my forehead. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I started to shake my head, but I leaned into his touch instead, sighing. "I told you before. He was cold, unemotional. I was in a never-ending scene. It's like he was able to shut himself off with a switch."

"Was he mean to you?"

I thought back to those several hours I'd spent in Brian's bedroom. "No. He was actually quite gentle, although very much in control. As if he had an agenda and wanted to show me everything he knew how to do. But I had no say in what we did except to tell him to stop."

Malcolm said nothing but continued to stroke my hair. It wasn't anything he hadn't heard before from me. I felt like I was becoming a CD stuck on repeat.

"He had been polite and professional during the interview. But he didn't talk much during lunch or the time in the car. And when we reached his place, whatever he did say was in commands.

"Well, he is a Dominant."

I lightly punched Malcolm in the chest. "You know what I mean. He didn't ask me questions. Did I like this? Was that too rough? Did I want more? You know? To find out what I could tolerate. It was either take it like he dealt it, or end it and leave."

Malcolm had pressed his cheek to my head, and I felt him nod.

"Obviously he didn't turn me off to the idea of submission, but I just wanted more from him. The only way I can describe it is, I felt like he didn't care about what I thought or felt. He didn't really act like he wanted to get to know me. We had an interview for a few hours the night before, but that was more about my writing, not about me as a person. I don't know if he'd planned to take me back to his place when he first called the next day, but his overall lack of conversation just rubbed me the wrong way. It was a disconnection."

"You want a relationship, not just a fuck buddy. He apparently wanted the latter, disguised as a live-in slave."

I snorted. "As awful as that sounds, I think you hit it right on the head. Do you think I was just looking for a fling, though? A one-night stand? I mean, I barely knew him and I let him take me home and screw me senseless! What kind of person does that? Geesh. I really can't believe I did that."

"Becca, I don't think any less of you for going after something you desired. Maybe you didn't do it in the best way possible, but that's how you learn. Granted we kind of dove in head first ourselves. But we did get to know each other a bit beforehand. And we're backtracking, taking that effort now."

"Yeah." I snuggled against his chest. I felt content when I was with Malcolm. Never rushed, never forced. I sighed deeply, though, unable to shake a thought.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Liar. Don't hide from me. Please. Tell me?"

"Now that I've read his article? To see he could write with such depth? To hint that although Drake Alexander was not all he claimed to be, not knowing the truth might be a good thing? It shows he did care, on some level. He didn't violate my privacy. He held true to our contract. It just bothers me that I didn't see that part of him at all during the time we were together."

"And if you had?"

I turned my head to look up at Malcolm. "It doesn't matter. Although he wrote a great article that will probably increase book sales and my fan base, I can see through him. It's just another façade he puts on to impress people. That's his game. And I want no part of it."

"Good answer." Malcolm pressed his lips to mine. He held my chin in place and stared into my eyes. "And a very wise answer, too."

I smiled and reached my hand up behind his neck to pull him back to me. Our lips touched briefly, then again with more intensity. I moaned and heard him echo my reaction.

We maneuvered so that we were laying side-by-side on the couch, our legs intertwined as we proceeded to make out like school kids. It was absolutely wonderful.

###

"What time is our reservation?" I tucked the end of my towel in above my breasts and tried to comb through my hair while keeping my phone wedge between my shoulder and ear.

"Six-thirty. We're almost to the city. What did you decide to wear?" Malcolm asked from the other end.

"Not a chance. If I told you it would no longer be a surprise. And if you're driving, I don't want you to have an accident."

"Your brother is driving. And you are a tease."

"So you've told me before. I have to finish getting ready."

"See you soon. Bye."

I shook my head and set the phone down so I could dry my hair.

In the bathroom mirror, as the fog from the hot shower cleared, I could see my bed behind me and the outfit I'd laid on it. I could also see the door to my closet. What I had really wanted to wear was buried in the depths of the shadows: that little blue and black dress, my "just in case" outfit I'd thrown in when I'd stayed at the hotel over a month ago after my interview. I loved that dress. But...

It was also what I had worn for my lunch date with Brian. A date that had turned into something exciting but bizarre and had shaken my world like an earthquake that only I had felt. I hadn't worn stockings or a garter belt, either, since that meeting. Malcolm had asked me once to wear them for a scene, but it just reminded me too much of my time with Brian. I know that Malcolm had said he'd understood. And I loved him for that. I wanted to wear them again, I really did. I felt extra sexy when I dressed like that. I just wasn't ready yet.

I blew out my breath along with the thoughts of Brian. He was gone, out of my life. Sue had not received any more calls from him after I had abruptly ended our dinner. That seemed so long ago. Malcolm had saved the day and my sanity. We'd been together ever since. But this was the first time he was coming to hang out on my turf.

My brother, Drake, had suggested we get together in the city soon, but I kept making excuses. I had spent the last two weekends—along with several days during the week—at Malcolm's house. My work was slacking, and Sue was insistent on at least three chapters by the end of the summer. It was already September next week, and I barely had one chapter completed.

When Drake had called to go out tonight, I'd declined. But Drake wouldn't take no for an answer. He said he was bringing Daphne and Malcolm, and they would kidnap me if necessary.

So here I was, fretting over my clothes and my hair, worried yet excited about what they had planned for the evening. I tripped down the stairs while trying to walk and put on my shoes.

"You look good enough to eat," Malcolm said after I opened the door. He stepped into the foyer, slid a hand around my waist, and pulled me close to nuzzle my neck below my ear. "And smell like it, too."

I laughed and tried to push him away. "I don't think my brother could wait that long. Unless you think he'd be willing to change his plans?"

"No ma'am, sorry." Malcolm kissed my neck, nipping it lightly. "But I've got ideas for later."

"So you like?" I stepped back and twirled around once. My black, knee-length skirt flared out as I turned. I grinned as I saw Malcolm's eyes widen and his tongue dart out to lick his lips in the mirror above the entry table.

"Do that again, but faster."

I obeyed, and he let out a deep growl.

"I like how that skirt comes all the way up. And I love the black thong. You are a tease. I might have to punish you for that. But not right now, because your brother would throttle me for delaying any longer."

I felt the wetness gathering between my legs. "A spanking for wearing a thong?"

"Who said anything about a spanking? Punishment comes in many forms."

Oh my.

"Grab your purse and keys. Let's go." Malcolm turned away from me, but I could still see his reflection.

His eyes closed briefly, and his shoulders shook a little under his black sports jacket. I lowered my gaze to where the jacket hid his ass that I knew looked mighty fine in those dark jeans. My eyes rose up again to stare at the boat-neck of his gray and green graphic T-shirt just as he swallowed. I growled myself now as I saw his Adam's apple bob, and wished we had time to play.

I hid my smile and locked up the condo as we stepped out onto the front stoop. A cool breeze swept past, making my nipples harden against the cups of the dark-red boustier with spaghetti straps I chosen to wear. I was glad I'd thrown a black mini-cardigan over top. I would have been freezing without it. For late August in the city, the nights were getting cooler, reminding us that autumn was on the way.

I exchanged greetings with my brother and his girlfriend-slash-sub, Daphne, as I opened the backseat passenger-side door to Drake's car that was idling at the curb. Malcolm slid in beside me, and then we were off.

"So where are we going after we eat?" I sighed softly as Malcolm took my hand and caressed his fingers over my skin.

"It's a surprise. Not far." Drake winked at me in the rearview mirror and turned up the radio.

I stuck my tongue out at him and turned to smile at Malcolm. "I've missed you."

"Same, here. How's the story going?"

"It's a whole new genre for me. I'm not used to writing explicit sex scenes, or having my stories revolve around a sexual relationship. I've been writing mysteries for five years now. It's fun, just different."

"I think you'll do fine. Are you going to publish under your own name?"

"I haven't decided yet."

"Any backlash from the article?" He said it slowly, his voice quieter.

I shook my head. "I don't want to think about that, tonight."

"I understand." He put his arm around my shoulders and kissed the top of my head. "I'm sorry I brought it up."

"It's okay."

We arrived at the restaurant and let the valet park the car. Once we were seated inside, the guys mostly talked to each other, and Daphne talked to me about a vacation she and Drake were planning Labor Day weekend. I made a mental note to talk to Malcolm about doing something ourselves. If I could work non-stop for the next two weeks, I could crank out three rough chapters and then break for the long holiday as a reward. Yeah, it was doable.

Our meals came, and talking pretty much ceased as we ate. We had chosen to split a bottle of wine between the four of us, and I was feeling pretty good by the time the waitress cleared our empty plates. Drake insisted on picking up the check, so Daphne and I thought we'd hit the ladies' room before we moved on to the next part of the night.

I pushed my chair back to stand and dropped my napkin on the floor. As I was leaning down to pick it up, Malcolm touched my hand to stop me. I raised my eyes to his, not moving.

"I want you to remove the thong, Lady Becca," he whispered.

I gasped and flinched. He was going to do a scene? Right here? In public?

His grip tightened ever so slightly as I tried to sit up. "Do you trust me?"

I blinked. My heart was thumping in my ears. I was nervous. But suddenly, I was damn horny.

"Take a deep breath."

I just nodded.

"Lady Becca, take a deep breath." Malcolm's hot breath brushed my ear.

This time I breathed in deeply then let it out slowly.

"You'll be fine. Go to the restroom with Daphne, and bring me back your thong. Do not tell her what you are doing."

"Becca, did you change your mind?" Daphne said from my other side.

I swiped up my napkin as soon as Malcolm released my hand, and I turned back to her. "No, let's go."

I have no idea how I managed to walk and not run to the back of the restaurant. There was only one toilet, so we had to take turns. I went first, afraid I'd chicken out if I didn't. When I was done and had tucked my panties into my purse, I stood outside the door and waited for Daphne.

"Well, hello there Ms. Rockland. Or should I say, Drake Alexander?"

I froze and slowly turned from the poster of various pastas I had been reading on the wall. Of all the places to run into Brian...

He whistled low, and I pushed my shoulders back, standing up straighter.

"Ms. Rockland, or Becca, will do fine."

He nodded and his eyes did a very slow sweep from my feet up. Unlike the last time we had met, I felt nothing in the way of arousal as he checked me out...or as I glanced at him in his ever-present suit and tie. Maybe I was over him. That would be wonderful. My head could be at peace now whenever I did something with Malcolm that I had done with Brian. I could wear my favorite dress again. And stockings!

"Did you get your copy of the article?"

I let a soft smile escape. "Yes, I did. Thank you."

Brian gave a barely noticeable nod. "I take it you liked it?"

I shifted my clutch purse to under my left arm and suddenly remembered I had no panties on. I must have blushed, because he chuckled.

"You were surprised, weren't you?"

"I was." I couldn't think of anything else to say, especially since I realized Daphne was still in the restroom. Did Malcolm and Drake wonder why we hadn't returned yet?

"Have you had a lot of responses? Questioning fans? Irate ones that didn't know their hero, their fantastic mystery writer, didn't really exist?"

I frowned. "Yes, no thanks to you. But I've gotten quite a few letters from those who felt the same way as you do...that not knowing my true identity added onto the whole mystery. It's all part of being a writer. At the end of the day, the good outweighs the bad."

"Darling, just because I wrote something doesn't mean that's how I feel." He reached up and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. "I had a job to do. And you limited me, so I spun it a different way. That's all."

I flinched and stepped back, right into the wall. "I figured as much. You were callous during the interview and especially after, then you write what could only be called a complimentary article. But I see the truth now. Under the surface of all that glamorous 'I promised not to tell' façade, you've intentionally planted doubt in my readers. You may be the most calculating man I have ever met. How I could have even thought—"

"Really? You've thought of me?" His rare grin widened.

For the first time, I saw an evilness lurking behind his eyes. I scoffed. "You look like a normal business man in an Armani suit. But you're really a diabolical monster who gets a thrill out of bringing innocent women to their knees with your false charms and amazing cock. Except when you don't get your way."

"Amazing cock? Wow. You know," he stepped toward me, making me press harder against the wall, "if I didn't know you better, I'd think you were sorry you left. You want me to take you home, Becca? To show you what it's really like to be chased?"

My hand clenched in a fist. And I started to raise it, but he stopped it with his own hand. His strong fingers wrapped around mine, but I refused to release my tension.

He clicked his tongue at me. "Now, now, Becca. You don't want to cause a scene."

"Let go of me." It came out as a growl. Partly because I couldn't understand what was taking Daphne so long.

"I think we could work on this animosity you have towards me. Maybe introduce you to a whip or a flogger. I mean, I could have outted you, but I was a gentleman. And this is how you repay me?"

"We have a contract. I would have sued you."

"That would have been fun in court. I have more money than God does, darling. You're not the first person who wanted an NDA. I have great lawyers. When you get right down to it, I'm a journalist. I just write for a prestigious, erotic magazine."

"You're an asshole!"

"Now there's something we haven't tried yet. I can rectify that. But first, I think I should write a follow-up piece for the September issue. Now that I've stirred up the pot a bit, I should tell them all about the true Drake Alexander. How she was just a has-been romance writer and had to change her name to sell her books. You can hide out at my place until the frenzy dies down, and we'll work on those things I told you about."

"You wouldn't—"

He kissed me suddenly, and I did the first thing I could think of. I kneed him in the groin.

Brian dropped my hand and let out a gurgle of a groan. As he stepped back and turned away, a fist came out of nowhere and punched him square in the jaw.

I looked up and saw Malcolm standing there, shaking his hand.

"The lady said to let her go."

My legs gave out, and Malcolm was there to catch me. A door opened beside me, and I blinked through the sudden tears in my eyes. Daphne started to crouch down next to me, but Malcolm shooed her off.

"Are you okay, Becca?" He helped me stand, then he pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket and dabbed it at my cheeks. "Hold it in until we get out of here, okay? You can cry in the car."

I nodded and sniffled once. "I'm fine. Just a little rattled."

We turned to exit the hallway only to find ourselves facing a police officer and the owner of the restaurant.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" The officer looked at me and then at Brian who was still on the floor but had managed to sit up and brace his back against the wall. "Is this the man who assaulted you?"

I started to shake my head; I didn't want to make an issue of this. But then I saw Daphne standing behind the officer, subtly waving her iPhone back and forth. I clamped my mouth shut, took a deep breath, and then nodded.

"Yes, Sir, I was waiting for my friend who was in the restroom when he grabbed my hand, shoved me against the wall and forced himself on me. When he kissed me, I kneed him."

"Do you know him?"

"Only in passing." I clamped my mouth shut before I let too much spill. Now was not the time or the place, if ever.

"Did you punch him?" The corner of the officer's mouth twitched. The restaurant owner's eyes widened.

"No, Sir. That was my boyfriend. He showed up right after."

"Would you like to press charges, ma'am?"

I hesitated only a second. Without even blinking—but forcing myself not to smile—I nodded.

Which is how the four of us found ourselves at the police station filing a complaint instead of going wherever the boys had planned after dinner. I knew Drake would never let me live this one down.

They divided us up to get our own versions of the altercation, and I was able to talk to a woman detective. When she asked me if I knew Brian and why he would have attacked me, I was resistant. But she eventually convinced me it was better to be upfront, so I told her everything. Who I was, who Drake Alexander was, and who Brian Hughes was. I didn't go into the kinky details, but now one more person knew my secret. She didn't show much of a reaction except the occasional sympathetic smile.

When we were done, she asked if I wanted to see a paramedic. I said no, the ice they had given me for my knee was fine. I also declined a restraining order. I waited in the lobby with Drake while the police talked to Malcolm and Daphne, and I finally got the other side of what had been happening while Brian accosted me.

"So Daphne was in the bathroom the whole time taping it?" I snorted and leaned my head on my brother's shoulder. "I thought maybe she had fallen in."

Drake chuckled. "She said she was opening the door to leave when she heard someone talking to you. She sent a text to me, saying you were talking about some article. I knew it had to be Brian. I told her to video tape it. We were thinking blackmail, you know?"