Final Call (Call #2)(47)
Author: Emma Hart

“Is it wrong that the thought of you head to toe in black leather is turning me the f**k on right now?”

“That’s awfully stereotypical of you, Mr. Stone. I didn’t always wear leather. Sometimes I didn’t wear anything at all.”

“Dayton,” he growls in the bottom of his throat, the huskiness of it hitting me square between the legs. “Can I see?”

I drop my gaze to his pants and the bulge there. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“I’m not planning on laying you on a bed and whipping your ass or asking you to do it to me. I’m just…curious.”

“Curious? About whips and chains and kink?”

“Chains?”

“They do the same job as your tie, but I much prefer the tie.” I grin sexily and take his hand in mine. “Come on.”

I grab my keys and pull him through to the back of the house. My key clicks in the lock, and we enter a small hallway.

“Which side first? The normal room or the kink room?”

“I’ve seen your bedroom, sweetheart. I don’t need to see it again.”

I put my hand on the doorknob and smile at him. Oh, dear. “Aaron, this is nothing like my bedroom. Trust me.”

I push it open and step inside. Nude photos line the walls, and thick red curtains are draped over the window. The blankets on the large, black cast-iron bed match them, and the black throw pillows break up the red somewhat.

Aaron’s eyes skim the whole room, including the leather chair in the corner and the fluffy rug at the side of the bed. “You’re right. This is nothing like your bedroom.”

“It’s not supposed to be.” I drop his hand and cross to the curtains, pushing them open a crack. “My bedroom is my space to relax. This bedroom is for seduction and pure, hard f**king.”

“And the kink room, as you put it?”

I drop the curtain and lead him into that room. The coloring is mostly the same, the décor not much different at all, with the exception of the leather chair now being a thick wooden one.

Oh, and the fact there are whips, floggers, and paddles hanging on one wall. Aaron stops when he sees them, and I walk to them. I pull a whip down and run it through one hand, gazing up at him through my lashes.

“Crack in your armor, Mr. Stone?”

“No.” He takes it from me and hangs it back up. “As sexy as that look is on you, I’m struggling to imagine a situation in which I’d rather smack your gorgeous ass with a bit of leather instead of my hand.”

“I would be offended if you preferred the whip over your hand.”

“I’d be offended if you wanted the whip.”

“Well, would you look at that? Something we both agree on.” I pat his cheek with a grin and leave the room.

The thought that I won’t be using this room again is happier than I imagined it would be. Truth be told, this room was never my favorite, but they were big players because of the taboo that goes with the dom/sub arrangement. Absolute anonymity was required because they were the guys with the most money. The most powerful ones.

“You know the interior of these rooms will be ripped out, don’t you?” Aaron asks softly behind me.

I twist the key in the lock and nod. “I know. And I’m okay with that. It’s my past, and that doesn’t matter anymore.”

His kiss is soft. “Good, because those rooms are the perfect size for—”

“An office and a playroom.” I laugh the words and he pauses. “Hey, you were about to say that exact thing.”

“I was,” he agrees with a smile and pulls me into his side in the kitchen. “Come on, Bambi. Let’s go home. I’m hungry.”

I smack his stomach and grab the food bags. “I hope you can cook. I don’t intend to.”

***

“When are you in Seattle?”

“In two days.”

“Got a couple of hours to spare for me?”

Tyler chuckles down the phone. “Finally come to your senses and realized I’m the better cousin?”

I laugh into my hand. “Yes, that’s it. Since leaving London, I’ve realized I’m madly in love with you and I can’t be without you any longer.”

“Ah, well, it was coming.”

“You’re an ass, Ty. No. I was wondering if I could…take you up on your offer.”

“You’re going to let me shoot you?”

“As long as we’re talking cameras and not guns, yes.”

He clicks his tongue. “I suppose I can go easy on you. Of course I have time for you. I’ll call you when boss man has given me my schedule.”

“Text me. This is going to be a…surprise.”

“A surprise, huh? Is that what they call a shock these days?”

“Shut up. He already moved me into his apartment. I’m not giving him the further satisfaction of knowing he’s getting his way with this too.”

Chapter Twenty

His shirt is open, showing every perfectly sculpted pack of muscle on his chest. A blue tie is tucked beneath the collar, hanging undone around his neck, and a cell phone is perched precariously between his ear and his shoulder as he buttons his fly.

“No…. Jesus, Derrick, I said no…. Working with them last time was less than desirable… Set up a meeting if we must, but the probability of a contract is next to f**king nothing.” Aaron sighs. “You’ll have to speak with Dottie. She has my schedule on hand… No, she won’t be in the office for another hour… I’m positive Mr. Dawson won’t combust if he doesn’t have an answer within the next ten minutes. Call him back and tell him you’ll touch base during office hours… That’s my final say on the matter, yes. I’ll see you later.” He throws his cell across the room, and it bounces off the sofa and onto the floor. “Fucking incompetent bastard. Who calls their boss at eight in the morning unless it’s life or death?”

My lips curve, and I lift my coffee mug. My eyes roam shamelessly over his exposed body, and if the spark in Aaron’s eyes is anything to go by, he’s caught it.

“Like what you see?”

“Do you?” I meet his gaze and flick the collar of one of his shirts.

“I’m not sure. I can’t see all of you.”

I tilt my head to one side and put my mug down, standing slowly. His eyes darken as they coast over my body the way mine just did his, and he clenches one hand into a fist when he realizes I’m wearing nothing beneath the shirt.