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The storm inside of her began to settle, finally. “Really? The giant bag of torture in your closet says otherwise.”
“Brat.” There was no heat behind the word, and his expression eased into a smirk. “You know what I mean.”
“I know.” Closing her eyes, she pressed her forehead to his, drinking in his strength and comfort. “Sorry about the blow up. The article just caught me off guard and there were these girls in the store laughing at me and I just freaked out, I guess.”
“No apology needed, kitten. It pissed me off, too. Are we good?”
“Yeah. We’re good.” She drew in a deep breath, and blew it out again slowly. Tilting her head up, she brushed her lips against his, this time offering comfort as well as taking it. “Now get out of here so I can make dinner.”
“Want some help?”
“God, no. Get out of my kitchen. Sir,” she added with a cheeky smile when he raised an eyebrow.
“I’m going, because I’m starving. But after dinner, you’re going to pay for that.”
“Yes, Sir.”
With another quick kiss, he left, and she gave herself a moment for a few deep breaths before grabbing more groceries to finish putting everything away. But there was an ache in her chest, a pressure she vaguely recognized as a mix of fear and shame. And she wondered if she’d ever truly be free of either.
Chapter 25
Austin
Sweat pouring off of him, Austin grunted and groaned his way through the final set of single-leg dips his physical therapist had assigned him. Behind that Barbie-blonde hair and toothy smile beat the heart of a true sadist, one he was certain would send even the most hardcore masochist running for the hills.
“That was great, Mr. Barrick! Don’t forget to do those stretches I gave you at home, too. I’ll know if you didn’t.”
Before he’d gotten to know her, he’d brushed comments like that off as good-natured teasing. Now, he recognized them for the threat they were. If she so much as thought he’d been slacking off on his at-home work, she’d make his next session even more tortuous than the last.
“Got it, doc,” he managed between panting breaths. “See ya.”
It was all he could do not to whimper as he limped his way to the showers. He lingered, letting the heat of the water beat away the stress from his workout, and by the time he was walking out the door he felt almost human again.
He nearly wept with relief when he spotted his driver waiting for him at the bottom of the steps. Dr. Miller would probably tell him walking was good exercise, but he wasn’t sure he could have drummed up the energy to make it the two blocks to the closest parking garage.
Halfway home, his phone rang and he sighed at the sight of his agent’s name on the screen. He was tempted to just ignore it, but knowing Mary, she’d just keep calling until she got what she needed.
“Barrick,” he answered with a grunt.
“Austin. What thehell?”
The urgent, distressed tone had Austin sitting up straighter in his seat. “What? What happened?”
“You just got outed. Goddammit, why didn’t you tell me about this so I could be prepared? I can’t protect you if I don’t know about these things!”
“What are you talking about, Mary? Outed by who? For what?”
“Fucking Chloe Carlisle.”
Chloe Carlisle, the model-slash-aspiring actress he’d dated for a few months last year. Ice crept up his spine as his brain played out scenes from their relationship, including the rather epic fight they’d had when he’d finally broken things off. “Shit. What did she say?”
“She did an exclusive interview all about her relationship with you and the kinky shit you’re into. Said you forced her to go to some kind of sex club.”
“Forced is a bit of an overstatement,” he snapped, rubbing at his forehead. “The way I remember it, she fucking begged me to take her.”
“Jesus.” The line went silent, and if it hadn’t been so serious, Austin might have laughed at the idea of Mary Palmer being speechless. “Part of me was sure she was making all this shit up. She’s not, is she?”
“Well, since I haven’t seen the interview yet, I can’t really say. But yes, we did enjoy some kinky sex and yes, I took her to a club. But always with her consent.”
