Training Her Curves - Dallas (A BBW Billionaire Domination and Submission Romance) Page 6

"No," I answered. "I'm not afraid of you."

  His grip on my hair relaxed, so did the tension around his mouth and eyes.

  "So why do you want to run from me?"

  I shook my head. I had thought it impossible that I could cry anymore that afternoon -- the human body had to have limits on the amount of water it would release on so worthless an endeavor as self-pity. Apparently, I hadn't reached that limit because my eyes flooded, the tears landing hot on my cheeks.

  Jake pulled me to him, his arms unyielding when I tried to wiggle loose.

  "I've been wracking my brain for three weeks on how I can get you to open up," he rasped against my ear. "But every time I look at you..."

  Growling, he shook his head. "Maybe I should have tied you to the bed after the first week."

  I tightened against him, which only served to make him hold me more fiercely. He didn't know one of the details I held back from him but revealed to Marjolein. The woman from the "troubled kids" facility had brought restraints, sedatives and a poncho with her. She had also pulled her car into Donald's garage so that the possibility of Donald and Ruth's neighbors knowing about "my" troubles was all but zero.

  I convinced myself a decade ago that the quickest way to forgetting is to stop remembering. I had forcefully refused to dig up that memory several times during photo shoots as a Razor Doll and all through the first month of engaging with Jake. Now that Donald and Ruth had become recurring nightmares in my new life, I found it impossible not to remember.

  The threat of Jake tying me to a bed, as much as I trusted him, clawed at my guts.

  His lips brushed my cheek and then the corner of my mouth. "Talk to me, baby girl. If you don't want to answer questions, then ask them."

  I felt deaf, blind and dumb. I couldn't get my mouth to work because my thoughts had shriveled inside my head to avoid brushing against any unwanted memories. I could barely see because of all the crying and the way the flesh around my eyes had started to swell. The tension roaring against my ears all but drowned out the low baritone of his voice.

  Jake pulled away far enough to secure my shoulders and then he lightly pushed me against the back of the couch. "But this wall of silence ends now."

  Hesitant, I licked my lips, my eyes blinking from the well of tears that continued to build.

  His face, already sober, turned to stone. "You're not afraid of me, but do you hate me now?"

  I thought for a second he must be joking, his question so out of the realm of possibility that he couldn't be serious. His expression told a different story. I couldn't remember seeing the slightest hint of vulnerability in him before -- I mean, he'd seemed so damn indifferent since my mother and step-father's appearance, how could he possibly care if I hated him?

  But hurt reflected across his gaze, in the slight downward slope at the corners of his mouth and in the way his fingers flexed as he held me in place.

  "I don't hate you..." I closed my eyes. Looking at him was too confusing. I knew that I had misread Jake in the past -- I just didn't know which times I was wrong. Had I been wrong after that first meeting in his office when he had coldly sent me away to consider the contract? I had felt like nothing more than a commodity to him that day and all the days that followed until he had appeared uninvited at my apartment. Feeling his hunger that afternoon, my opinion had changed -- only to ricochet once more to the conclusion that our encounters were solely about his business.

  The plane ride to Miami, the scene at the club's opening and afterwards in the penthouse at the hotel had my emotions playing table tennis inside my chest. Then I had experienced a month of bliss until my past exploded that first day in Riona's studio and three weeks in purgatory followed.

  Had I been wrong then or was I wrong now?

  I desperately needed to know!

  "Baby, I can't think when you're crying." His hands smoothed along my face, wiping tears and hair from my cheeks. He kissed my shut eyelids, then the tip of my nose. His hands kept smoothing around my head, petting me in a relaxing way until the strangled noises lurking in my throat subsided.

  He dragged my limp body until I turned into him, my head against his chest as he stroked my hair. His heart pounded hypnotically against his chest. His hands roamed my back, my arms, the side of my face that wasn't plastered wet against his shirt.

  Jake brushed the tip of his thumb against my lips. "Thank you for letting me hold you, Alexa."

  His words forced me to look up. Tenderness shadowed his gaze, turned the brilliant jewel tones of his irises smoky. I shifted higher, my forearms resting softly on either side of his neck. My nails skimmed through his hair as I stared at him. His lips looked swollen and I brushed the back of one finger against them.

  Again, I wondered -- was I wrong then...or now?

  I strained closer, sliding against him until our eyes were level with one another's. His palms pressed warmly against the small of my back. My mouth touched his and then I bit softly at his bottom lip.

  Jake stiffened and then his back dug against the couch as if he wanted to escape. "Alexa..."

  I pulled away, my gaze pointed at the seat cushion as I apologized. "I'm sorry...I..."

  My pulse and breathing rate kicked over from relaxed to panicked.

  "It's not--" he started, but I shook my head, unwilling to listen to whatever excuse he offered up.

  "It's fine," I lied, drawing a calming breath and looking up at him. Once upon a time, I had been quite the little actress, I reminded myself. I had convinced those around me that I was Alexa Hunt, not Ronnie Ann. I had escaped Ruth and Donald at fourteen...

  FOURTEEN!

  I had bluffed my way to Chicago, my height and unwanted maturity making those around me believe I was old enough to be traveling legally on my own. When I was sixteen, I convinced Razor Dolls that I was eighteen, old enough to sign their contract and appear in more provocative poses. Since leaving Dallas, I had accumulated a decade worth of successfully pretending to be someone else, someone who didn't hate being in front of the cameras. And I had another fourteen year pretending I didn't care that no one loved, or even liked, me.

  If I could fool all those people, I could fool Jake despite how intelligent, protective and perceptive he was. I could do it because he had a confirmation bias -- he wanted to believe I was okay, that I would be okay, that I didn't need him to love me in order to allow him to protect me.

  I smoothed a hand against his chest and finished with a light pat, just like the one Marjolein had given him in the studio that afternoon when she had warned him to tread lightly. Every gesture I made mirrored her earlier actions and expressions.

  With a soft kiss to his cheek, I stood up.

  "You're right," I said, even though I hadn't allowed him the opportunity to say anything. I pretended to know what he was thinking and to agree with him.

  I looked out the window. Inside Riona's studio, morning had turned to afternoon. On the drive, afternoon had turned to early evening and now the lake outside reflected the setting sun.

  Turning to Jake, I nodded at the hall. "I'm going to find the biggest tub this place has and soak for a bit. I feel like I've been playing rugby all day."

  His sharp gaze searched my face for a few seconds and then he nodded. "I'll cook us--"

  "I don't think I can eat anytime soon without getting sick. I'll find something later if my stomach convinces me otherwise."

  I started to move away but Jake caught my hand.

  "Alexa..."

  I shook my head and then I bent and placed another kiss on his cheek.

  A fleeting kiss...

  A last kiss.

  ********************

  A long soak in the garden tub of the master bedroom didn't change my mind about leaving. How could it? After he had learned about Ruth and Donald, I had stopped being the woman Jake desired and become the woman he pitied. I didn't doubt that he cared for me, but that wasn't enough to keep me with him.

  After my bath, I let Jake fix me a sandwich,
but I took the plate -- and my purse -- into the bedroom to eat alone. I waited long into the night until I was certain that he had turned in for the night. With my boots and purse clutched to my chest, I snuck past where he had fallen asleep on the couch.

  With a prayer on my lips, I discovered Marjolein's keys and the clicker for the gate exactly where he had placed them on our arrival. I eased them gently from the breakfast bar and left the house. Heart pounding in my chest, I climbed soundlessly into the Ford's driver seat and put my boots on.

  With the guest house perched atop an artificial hill, the drive had a slope to it. Settled behind the steering wheel with the car in neutral, the parking break off and my door open, I just had to push off with my left foot the tiniest bit to set the car rolling down the drive. The momentum carried me about a hundred feet past the tree line to where I could start the quietly running engine.

  I felt as big a coward as Donald ever was and almost as slimy for stealing Marjolein's car, but I kept driving until I reached the DFW airport. I parked in the overnight lot, put the keys and lot ticket in the trunk and went inside, where I purchased a ticket for the evening flight to Chicago.

  There were earlier flights, but I wasn't getting on the plane. When Marjolein had briefly run away to Boston, I had been fascinated by the way the Kehoe brothers and Mishka had tracked her down. Once Jo-Jo was found, Mishka had somewhat gleefully educated me on the many ways a person could be located. It was almost as if the big Russian had been warning me in advance.

  See how easy it would be to find you, little goddess.

  I planned on avoiding all his tricks. I just hoped he hadn't held back any details during the impromptu seminar.

  Before leaving the airport, I hit the ATM and withdrew the daily limit from my personal checking account, annoyed with myself because I had kept the amount at a sensible two thousand dollars. Then I went through security because the DFW airport is basically a mall surrounded by planes and runways. I bought a carry on bag, a notepad, and some toiletries from one store; a pair of jeans, head scarf and several long sleeved shirts from the western wear store; and a bra and some panties from the newly opened Victoria's Secret.

  At the FedEx substation, I scribbled out the location of Jo-Jo's car and keys plus three paragraphs of apology for sneaking off in the night without saying good-bye. After overnighting the letter, I exited the airport and hailed a cab, directing the driver to take me to the Hilton Anatole. From there, I caught a second cab that took me to the train station, where I bought an economy ticket to Memphis and another one for New Orleans.

  Almost dizzy with the arrangements I had made over the last few hours -- and the money I was quickly blowing through -- I jumped on a city bus headed for the Greyhound terminal. Once there, I took the SIM card out of my phone and ground it under my heel in the ladies room. I left the phone on the counter above the sinks for some lucky stranger then bought a ticket for the early morning bus to Los Angeles with the intent of getting off in Phoenix.

  Hopefully I would figure out my next move before crossing into Arizona.

  Jake

  An angry, blond-haired breeze blew into Riona's studio with two mugs of fresh coffee. She slammed one down in front of me then took a seat. After an almost solid thirty-six hours of no sleep, I needed the coffee. What I didn't need was the torrent of questions Marjolein was about to unleash.

  "So, what the fuck happened?" she asked.

  I rubbed at my eyes, my thoughts momentarily averted from the hunt that had occupied me since waking the day before and finding Alexa gone. The walls of my chest started to squeeze around my heart and lungs at just the thought of her. I rubbed my eyes again and reached for the mug.

  Jo-Jo slid the coffee away from me. For a second, I glowered at her, thinking that she had become a little too feisty from all the time these last two months that she had spent around Riona and...

  Before I could think of Alexa's name again, the pressure in my chest multiplied. Air wheezed past my lungs and I felt like I couldn't draw another breath. I needed the coffee to stay awake and find Alexa. To get the coffee, I had to talk about Alexa with Marjolein. Only, I didn't want to talk about my runaway lover until I had found her, tied her up, and then thoroughly spanked and fucked her into submission.

  "Fine," I acquiesced as I rubbed at my eyes for a third time in as many minutes. "After talking things through a bit at Lorne's guesthouse, Alexa wanted a very specific intimacy..."

  I had wanted it, too, every bit as hard. Pulling away from her had been pure hell, but I thought it was the right thing to do.

  Pushing the mug at me, Jo-Jo didn't smile. If anything, she looked more pissed than when she had barged in. "And you didn't shout 'Hell yeah and pass the lube' because...let me guess, you're an idiot?"

  Swiping a thumb across my bottom lip to erase a drop of coffee, I felt the rough brush of facial hair. I hadn't shaved since the morning before Alexa disappeared. My appetite had disappeared and so had my ability to sleep.

  I hated to admit it, but I wasn't handling Alexa leaving me even half as well as Dylan had dealt with Jo-Jo vanishing two months before. Of course, the two women were markedly different. Marjolein had a support network of family and friends. Alexa had practically been on her own since the day she was born. And only one of the women traveled under a fake ID with rabid packs of paparazzi stalking the airports in search of her.

  "So you concede you're an idiot," Marjolein poked after I fell silent.

  I drew a slow breath in, doubtful that confession really was good for the soul but knowing that the sooner I answered Jo-Jo's questions, the sooner I would have her back at her computer running down any leads Mishka needed help on.

  "From day one," I began, "I leveraged Alexa's obvious vulnerability. I did so without knowing its source. The only thing I knew -- the only fact that mattered -- was my desire to have her. So I broke my first rule, then my second, and so on until there were no rules I hadn't broken with her."

  Pausing, I wrapped my shaking hand around the mug of coffee and took a slow sip while I gathered my thoughts.

  "I did all that because I'm a selfish bastard who loves her and couldn't imagine being without her. After those sacks of shit showed up the first time, I realized I couldn't keep her safe if I continued breaking my rules -- like exploiting her vulnerabilities. That's why I pulled back when she wanted me to draw closer."

  "So instead you had Alexa thinking you didn't want her..." Dissatisfied with my reasoning, Jo-Jo stole my mug from me once more. "Damn, Jake, I love you, but that was the wrong fucking move. You should have explained why."

  "How?" I asked, frustration heating my voice. "She doesn't believe a damn thing I say anymore."

  Without answering me, Marjolein left the room. Two months ago, her response would have surprised me, but the Kehoe brothers had been losing women left and right recently. I had lost Alexa by renewing my commitment to my rules. Dylan had pushed Jo-Jo away after finally breaking his ultimate rule -- experienced subs only.

  Marjolein returned with a bag of food from the nearby sandwich shop and two bottles of juice. Shoving my computer out of the way, she pulled out a foot long sub and placed it in front of me. "I sent Mishka to grab some lunch for all of us. You're going to eat and then you're taking a nap."

  I shook my head. "Not hungry and I'll sleep after I find her."

  "Do that and you won't have the brain cells to get her back." She pushed the sandwich closer to me then twisted off the cap to my juice.

  I felt like a two year old stuck in time out. Except, instead of wanting my mommy, I wanted my baby -- my Alexa.

  Catching Jo-Jo's hard stare, I tore off the end of the sub and shoved it in my mouth. I chewed slowly, the lack of sleep unexpectedly slamming through my body until I had to prop my elbows on the chair before I sagged to the floor. I swallowed, took a swig of juice and pointed the top of the bottle at Jo-Jo.

  "You're really becoming unmanageable, baby girl."

  She had a mouthful o
f juice, half of it shot through her nose. She stole my napkin to clean her face then threw the tissue at me.

  "That's what Dylan said. Just like him, you need to deal with it because I will keep giving you shit until you finish eating and lie down, eyes shut, for at least an hour. After that, you can bust your fine ass all you want."

  "I told you," I said, popping the last bit of sandwich into my mouth and talking around it. "I'll sleep after I find her."

  "Done, little brother."

  I looked over my shoulder as Dylan came into the room, stopping just inside the doorway. He looked at Marjolein, his gaze narrowing with a fresh challenge. "Give us the room, cupcake."

  Face reddening, she rolled her lips then pushed her chair away from the table. She stood, her hand falling briefly on my shoulder to squeeze. Dylan didn't budge as she approached. She had to brush past him, his gaze locked first on her face then her round bottom as she walked away flipping him off.

  Unmanageable but cute as a button.

  My legs and hands bounced with the urge to charge across the room and grab him by the throat, throttling him until he told me what he had discovered. But I knew my brother too well to capitulate to mere force. He had sent Marjolein out because he wanted something from me.

  I leaned back in my chair, my thumbs hooking my belt loops to keep from strangling him. "You're never going to get past Miami if you keep pissing her off."

  A smirk tugged at one side of his mouth. He pulled his phone from his pocket and flashed it at me. "You sound like a man who doesn't want what I'm offering."

  Tilting my head, I checked which of his two phones he held. If it was the Nokia, I didn't need his cooperation. His little cupcake could pull any piece of mail or text message off the company server in under a minute.

  Too bad for me, it was his personal phone.

  I shrugged, knowing there was more than one way to get at his source. "Tell me, how many laws did you break to get this information you want to sell me?"

  "None." Looking like a cat surrounded by canaries, he smiled. "I did a reverse charge on her primary bank account -- a big one."