“Then why are you here?”

  Carlie dropped the sheet. “Because I want to submit to you. I want you to do anything you want with me.”

  I nearly groaned. This was exactly why I preferred to be alone.

  “If and when I wish to have you in my bed, I’ll invite you. Is that understood?”

  She pouted again and moved to stand. When she faced me, the pout turned into something else. A tear fell.

  “Don’t you like me?”

  Holy hell.

  I took a deep breath to squelch my irritation.

  “Carlie, I don’t know you,” I said in a calm, even voice. “I can see that you’re beautiful, and I can see that you have a competitive spirit. It was enterprising of you to find your way into my bed, and beat the others, so to say. If this was a weekend get-together, I wouldn’t have hesitated. But these are unusual circumstances, and you need to go.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, and another tear slid down her cheek.

  What was fucking wrong with me?

  Carlie was exactly the type of woman I was normally attracted to. She was here in my bedroom wearing nothing but strings, practically begging me to put my dick inside her.

  Why wasn’t I?

  What was stopping me from taking some measure of comfort or at least release in her body? If I didn’t like her, I’d vote her off tomorrow. End of problem.

  “I just want to please you… Master.”

  Her change of tactics threw me off guard, as did her bowed head. Slowly, she lifted a hand and brushed a thin strap from one shoulder, then the other. The tiny piece of lingerie slipped down her body, leaving her standing in front of me fully naked.

  She lifted her hands to her breasts, pinching her nipples between her fingers. “Does this please you?” she asked and stepped closer to me.

  Then I could smell her. A soft perfume and her arousal, along with her powerful pheromones that would kick most men in the gut. She ran a finger down the buttons of my shirt, then lower to cup me. I was still soft, and she frowned a bit. This clearly wasn’t part of her script either.

  “Let me take care of you, Master,” she said, her fingers at my zipper. With a hiss, she slid it down.

  “You need to go,” I said firmly.

  She reached into my pants and slowly licked her bottom lip. “I can make you feel real good.”

  “Go. Now.”

  Carlie sighed and stepped back, then away, and I was once again struck by how incredible looking she was.

  She turned and bent over, picking up the bit of lingerie before walking over to where she’d left a thin robe. As she walked away, I was treated to a view every bit as delectable as the front. Her ass was round and plump, the kind that made a man want to grab hold and never let go. I could imagine how it would look as I pounded into her.

  Determined to find something else to look at, I jerked my gaze away and headed over to the small bar, not turning around until I heard the soft click of the door.

  Tossing back the shot of whiskey, I poured another and sipped it more slowly as I began to pace the room.

  Pink and orange caught my attention, and I stepped over to the corner where I’d left them. Emery’s shoes. Bending, I picked them up, and a thought occurred to me.

  I should return them. It was the polite thing to do after all.

  With a grin, I shrugged out of my suit, trading it for a pair of gym shorts and t-shirt.

  By the time I was tying my shoes, I was thinking more clearly.

  No.

  I needed her to come to me.

  Wanted her to come to me.

  Wanted it in a way that was close to desperate.

  “Stop this shit,” I muttered to myself.

  Tossing her shoes back to the corner, I left my room and headed to the gym. If I couldn’t fuck her, I would work this need out of my system.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Emery

  My new bedroom was even bigger and more luxurious than the one in the guesthouse. A silk duvet of the softest blue covered the four-poster bed that was so tall, I needed to use the step stool next to it to climb on.

  With meticulous care, I unpacked, refolding or hanging each item precisely. The order of seeing the clothes hung exactly an inch apart and by color was soothing. As much as I loved him, I’d never be like my father, and it was always that thought that made me tidy up or clean even the smallest particle of dust away. I recycled or donated anything I hadn’t touched in a month and refused to keep anything for sentimental reasons… except for a few things that had belonged to my mother, Ryan’s sweatshirts and the long-sleeved shirt I sometimes slept in since his death. That was all I had left of him. The Steadmans and their attorney had taken the rest.

  Even though it was past one in the morning, I was still restless. Wandering over to the window, I swept the silk curtain back and stared through the glass. It was so peaceful here. The moon twinkled off the water of the lagoon while the rest of the world was absorbed by darkness.

  I wished it was warm outside so I could run along the banks. If I had my shoes, I might go out even now. Feeling the crisp air on my face as I ran might help me relax enough to sleep at little bit at least.

  Come to my room.

  I wanted to. Badly.

  Walking over to the small desk in the corner, I picked up all the forms I was supposed to sign. Most looked like standard agreements any person starring in a reality show would need to fill out. Consent forms. Payment agreements. A nondisclosure form to keep the behind the scenes secrets closely guarded.

  But it was the other nondisclosure form that held my interest the most. This form was strongly worded with the sole purpose of keeping Rhett Hamilton’s private life exactly that… private. More than that, it precisely forbade that I speak to anyone regarding any sexual connection the two of us had. It was mysterious, made even more curious by the questionnaire that was attached. I blushed as I read over it again.

  Do you consider yourself a submissive?

  Have you been part of a submissive/dominant relationship, and if so, how many and for how long?

  What is your definition of a submissive?

  What sexual activity are you unwilling to try?

  What is your safe word?

  I wished Juliette was still with me so I could talk to her about what it meant. Then again, by signing the nondisclosure, I wasn’t allowed to. Was I? I’d read books and watched movies, so I wasn’t completely dumb as to the meanings, but I’d never imagined any of it applying to me.

  I flipped the page and again read the STD consent form. Apparently, all the contestants had been required to do a screening prior to being selected. I tossed the papers back on the desk. Well, at least safety mattered. I wondered if they’d cart me off to a doctor tomorrow morning. And what they’d do if I refused? At this point, would they try to find someone to replace me?

  The questions made my head hurt, and I paced the bedroom. There was plenty of room here to do some Pilates or yoga, but I wanted something more aggressive. I wanted to sweat. I wanted to push myself until my muscles cried for relief.

  Remembering the punching bags in Rhett’s gym, I yearned to use them. I wouldn’t need shoes for something like that. Or I could jump on the elliptical. Or lift weights. Maybe even hit the pool again, swim until I thought I could sleep.

  Until I was too tired to think about Rhett Hamilton and his seductive, “Come to my room.”

  Making up my mind, I stripped and pulled on a clean set of workout clothes as I created a plan. I’d tiptoe to the gym to see if it was empty. If it wasn’t, I’d leave as quietly as I’d come, nobody the wiser. But if I could be alone, I’d stay for only an hour. Maybe then I could rest.

  The house was quiet in the guest wing. As I crept down the winding staircase, it grew a bit louder. I could hear O’Dell barking out orders from what I knew was the dining room, but his voice faded as I got closer to the kitchen, then down the hall, creeping past the one that led to the master wing.

  I’d just gotten to the other side of the master hallway when a door opened, and I froze. Looking around frantically, I stepped back into a shallow alcove, grateful for the large potted plants on either side.

  Heart pounding, I heard what sounded like bare feet on marble, then a woman appeared wearing a robe that was so short her bare ass cheeks showed beneath the hem as she sashayed in the direction I’d just come. In her hand was a minuscule piece of lingerie hanging from one finger.

  I couldn’t see her face, but I recognized her immediately. It was Carlie.

  I guessed I wasn’t the only one Rhett Hamilton had invited to his room.

  When she disappeared, I blew out a breath, feeling foolish. I’d been stupid to think I was special, even for a second. Angry at myself, I stepped back into the hallway, tempted to just go back to my room and pace.

  No.

  I needed to work all these emotions out of me. Besides, after a romp with that sex goddess, Rhett was probably snoring by now. I wouldn’t have to worry about running into him until morning. Then, I’d take part in the competition with my eyes wide open.

  Like Juliette said, I would try to win, but for the money. Nothing else.

  This was a game.

  A game, I reminded myself as I marched toward the gym.

  I was pathetic, thinking I was anything special. I wasn’t. I was one of nine — no, eight now — who were here to entertain millions of people for the chance at winning a few bucks. I’d give the viewers what they wanted. A show. I’d win every damn contest. I’d come out on top. Just watch me.

  Then I’d conveniently get sick when it was time for that two-week tropical vacation. No way would I spend that much time alone with Rhett Hamilton. I didn’t trust him. I didn’t trust myself.

  In the gym, I went straight over to the punching bag and kicked it with the side of my foot. Then kicked it again.

  Finding the tape, I wrapped my knuckles and began hitting the damn thing in earnest.

  Bam. That was one of Carlie’s boobs.

  Bam. That was the other.

  Bam. That was a knee to Rhett Hamilton’s crotch.

  Bam. That was his nose.

  Another to his mouth, then a series of low jackrabbit strikes to his ribs made me feel a little better.

  Stepping back, I kicked the bag again, wishing it was my father’s house. In rapid succession, I punched with my fists, striking out until the trash blurred in my mind.

  Ten more punches struck the man who killed Ryan.

  And the drunk driver who slammed into my mother’s car.

  Bam. The paramedics who cut her open, saving me. For what?

  Bam. Bam. So I could grow up ostracized by the bitches at the Dollar General? Being the butt of all the jokes, the last chosen to be on a team. Not because I wasn’t athletic but because the other kids were afraid they’d “catch my fleas.”

  I was crying now, letting the emotion out of me, feeling it trickle out a little bit at a time.

  The funeral.

  The memorial service.

  The childhood bedroom closed off from me forever, the purple comforter I’d taken such good care of now covered with filth.

  Why?

  Bam. Bam.

  Why did life have to be so hard?

  Bam. Bam.

  What was my purpose in it all?

  Sweat poured off me, and I blinked it out of my eyes, refusing to stop even as my arms began to turn to jelly, and I ended up hugging the bag, holding on as I sobbed into the leather.

  I didn’t even have the energy to startle as strong arms came around me, lifting me off my feet. I didn’t have the words to tell him to put me down, could only cry harder as he squeezed the breath out of me.

  “Shhh…”

  Rhett’s breath was warm as he made soothing noises in my hair. It had long ago fallen out of the elastic and was sticking to my sweaty face.

  We were moving, the cadence of each step he took soothing, and I vaguely wondered if he was going to toss me into the pool as payback, or to shock the sadness out of me.

  But we’d gone too far for that. Pushing my hair out of my eyes, I began to struggle as I recognized the master wing hallway.

  “Put me down.”

  He didn’t answer, just held me tighter to him. A second later, he kicked open a door, then slammed it shut behind us.

  Worried now, I began to struggle in earnest. “I’m serious. Put me down.”

  “Be quiet. I need to examine your hands.”

  My hands?

  As Rhett carried me past his bed and through another door, I looked down at my hands, and for the first time noticed the blood trickling from beneath the tape.

  I hadn’t felt the knuckles crack open, but they clearly had. I didn’t even feel them now.

  What I felt was his breath in my hair, his fingers gripping me, his heart beating like a hammer against my side.

  In his bathroom, he sat me on the long counter and pushed my hair out of my face. His hands gripped the sides of my head, holding me still as he seemed to take in every inch of me. Then he leaned down and did something so surprisingly gentle, I nearly started crying again. He kissed away a tear, his lips lingering on my cheek even as his hands tightened in my hair.

  The brush of his beard caused me to shiver, and I turned my face until my nose nestled into its softness, breathing in his manly scent.

  “Emery…” he murmured, kissing my temple, then my ear.

  My fingers trailed up his back, feeling each muscle shift as I walked them up his spine. “Hmm?”

  “May I kiss you?”

  The question was so soft, the blood pounding in my ears so loudly, I could barely make out the words. Vaguely, I wondered why he asked. Why he didn’t just take what I was freely giving him?

  “Emery, please answer me. Can I kiss you?”

  The daze surrounding me broke, and I pulled back, looking up into his handsome face. The muscle in his jaw popped, and the skin around his eyes looked strained. He looked like a man in agony as he waited for my response.

  I could tell how much he wanted this. Wanted me.

  My stomach twisted, my core pulsing with a need so unexpected I would have collapsed had I not already been sitting.

  My heartbeat counted the seconds that passed as we gazed at each other. Just one kiss. Was that too much to ask? Before I could stop myself, I answered, “Yes.”

  A breath of relief exploded from him, and I expected the first meeting of our lips to be an assault. But they weren’t. His hands tightened in my hair, and we connected in the sweetest way possible. His lips were full and warm as they pressed against mine, then his fingers tightened as he turned my head until we fit together more fully.

  When he licked the seam of my mouth, I opened for him, welcoming his tongue with my own. I’d kissed Ryan, but this wasn’t just a kiss. It was more like a uniting of two souls that had been lost from each other for too long.

  “Where have you been all my life?” he asked against my mouth, and a small part of my numb mind wondered if that was a line he used with all his women.

  With Carlie.

  I pulled away, the thought dousing the flame building inside me. He’d been with another woman not more than an hour ago. God, where had his lips just been?

  “What’s wrong?”

  I pushed him back, wincing as his hands stayed tangled in my hair. “I need to go,” I said, pushing again. Since he was expecting it this time, it was like trying to move a concrete wall.

  “Why?”

  Making a fist, I pounded my hand against his chest, leaving a smear of blood on his t-shirt. “It doesn’t matter why.”

  He released my hair and encircled my wrists, holding both of my hands together with just one of his. With the other, he lifted my chin. “Tell me why. I know it isn’t because you’re not attracted to me. And I know it isn’t because I’m not attracted to you either. I am. Very much.”

  I tossed his question back at him, yanking against the fist holding me still. “Why?”

  His eyes clouded. “I don’t know.”

  I yanked harder, fighting him now. “Is that what you said to Carlie just before you fucked her?”

  He looked confused, then understanding dawned, and he loosened his hands but didn’t let me go. “I didn’t fuck her. She came to my room uninvited. I sent her away.”

  I didn’t know if I believed him. “Why would you do that? Have you seen her?”

  He scoffed. “Of course I’ve seen her.” He yanked me off the counter and turned me until I faced the mirror. He towered behind me, and I expected him to look angry as our eyes met in the reflection. I was surprised to see how softly he was gazing at me.

  “Then why?”

  He stepped closer behind me, his hands moving to my shoulders, his thumbs caressing my skin. “I sent her away because she wasn’t you.”

  A part of me believed him. Another part of me was calling it bullshit. Yet another part simply didn’t care. That part just wanted — no, needed it to be true.

  That part pissed me off.

  “So, if I let you fuck me, will you leave me alone after that? Move on to the next one?” I whirled on him, poking a finger in his chest. “Are you just attracted to me because I didn’t fall at your feet in the gym last night? Are you just chasing the one who got away?”

  I lowered my hand and grabbed his crotch, surprising him. Surprising myself. He was hard, and it took everything inside me not to stroke him. Rip his shorts off. Learn firsthand what sex was all about.

  “Is this what you want?” I shouted. “You want me to submit to you? Do whatever you want whenever you want it?” I scoffed and squeezed his shaft harder. “You want some empty-headed acceptance to your every wish? Do you want to boss me around? Am I a challenge because I didn’t fall at your feet, begging you to take me, give me a damn orgasm? Blow my mind with your sexual prowess?”

  His eyes darkened as he stared down at me. Both of our chests were heaving, our warm breaths mingling between us, his body radiating a heat that was nearly suffocating.

  I squeezed his hard length. “Do you want me to drop to my knees? Take your cock in my mouth when you tell me to? Let you come on my tits?”