Hard Hand Page 7

  “Your background makes you exceedingly suitable.”

  Hawkeye wasn’t referring to office experience, because Cole had none. As a Tier 1 operator in the army, he’d done numerous tours of duty in the toughest places on the planet. After he’d left the army, he’d been recruited by Hawkeye and had been given a number of undercover assignments. “I think you dialed the wrong number.”

  “You’ve been a squad leader. You’ve got the ability.” Hawkeye pressed his case. “Consider it a temporary basis. Say three months? I can move someone from another city if necessary. But it will take time and we have none of that.”

  They never did. “Not sure I can sit behind a desk. Even for you.” And the recruiting and the sales, meeting with potential clients. Lazarus had been damn good at that. Not to mention dealing with the shitpile of personnel issues.

  “You’ll have Vera.”

  That made the idea more appealing. Vera Norwood was of indeterminate age and smarter than almost anyone he knew. When Lazarus was out, Vera was capable of answering any question, no matter how technical or mundane.

  “She can make anyone look good,” Hawkeye added drily. “Even you.”

  Because a woman stopped near him to stretch before beginning her run, Cole continued around the track.

  He wanted to refuse. But a stray image slipped through his brain. One of Avery on her knees looking up at him as she prepared to suck him off. Being at home for months was an unheard-of luxury. If he wanted Avery, it gave him some time to plan and execute a strategy.

  “I need your answer now,” Hawkeye finished. “And it needs to be yes.”

  Avery had never been more miserable.

  It had been a week since she left Cole, and she wanted him. Not just his touch, but his possession.

  Holding a glass of ginger ale, she stood near the marble fireplace at Diana and Alcott Hewitt’s play party. Because it was early in the evening, attendees were still arriving. A few people had said hello, but she didn’t engage beyond small talk.

  For a month, she’d planned to attend the party, but it had taken every ounce of her energy to change out of the yoga pants she’d worn the entire day. Staying home to watch television was more appealing than interacting with people.

  Without her customary enthusiasm, she’d wriggled into a tight leather skirt and bustier. Finally, she donned a bolero jacket so she looked somewhat appropriate for leaving her apartment. With her nose wrinkled, she studied herself in the mirror. The truth was, only one man’s opinion of the outfit mattered to her.

  She considered staying home until her phone signaled a text message from Diana.

  Looking forward to seeing you!

  Since she’d promised to attend, Avery drove out to the posh Summerlin estate.

  Now, a man approached her, wearing leather pants and an open jacket a size smaller than it should have been. Since he’d been invited by the Hewitts, he’d been vetted, which meant she could trust him. But she had no interest in him at all.

  “Are you a submissive?”

  Unable to find her voice, she settled for nodding.

  He swept a glance over her. “Looking for a Dom?”

  Rather than her heart leaping, disappointment that he wasn’t Cole snaked through her. Mentally, she was comparing this man to him. She shook herself. How screwed up is that?

  Too late, she realized scening with Cole had been a mistake. Everything about him had gotten to her, and she wished it hadn’t. He’d ruined her for other men. She was his.

  “So, are you?”

  She blinked herself back to the present. “No. I’m not.” Then she smiled to take the sting from the rejection. “Thank you, though.”

  She wandered into the great room where a woman was dressed in office attire—a tight white shirt, a short skirt, black pumps, and stockings. A man wearing a business suit instructed her to bend over the desk.

  Restlessness momentarily abated, Avery watched.

  The Dom worked the woman’s skirt up, exposing her scantily clad bottom, with the straps on her garter belt bisecting her butt cheeks. Then he shrugged out of his jacket. “What have I told you about surfing social media during work hours?” He picked up a cane.

  The sub looked over her shoulder, her mouth open wide with pretend fear. Or maybe the reaction was real. Avery would never be able to face the cane with anything less than complete respect.

  “Oh, Mr. Holmes! I promise I won’t ever do that again. Please spare me!”

  “How many times have you been warned? Hmm? Two? Three? You knew there would be consequences.”

  Those words echoed in Avery’s head. She should have thought through the consequences of scening with Master Cole.

  He’d told her he would spoil her for any other man. And he had. But she hadn’t been prepared for being adrift without him.

  The Dom gathered the material of his sub’s panties and moved it all to her crotch, then yanked, lifting her from the floor.

  Avery winced in mute sympathy as the Dominant smacked the woman’s bare buttocks before letting loose with the cane.

  The sound, the way the woman flinched, then the terrible thin line on her skin, brought it all back for Avery.

  She yearned for Cole, wanted to be naked, sobbing beneath his dominance. She craved the orgasm he would give her.

  The Dom delivered another stroke.

  The truth crept up on Avery and hit her as powerfully as a stripe from rattan. It was the connection—emotional as well as physical—that she thirsted for. Cole had held her, caressed her. He’d cared for her, making her feel special. His loving attention had boosted her confidence.

  With a hole in her heart, she wandered outside where a couple was demonstrating rope bondage. Watching the slow beauty and intricacies of Shibari often relaxed her. Tonight it made her lonely.

  She should have trusted her earlier instincts. Coming here had been a mistake.

  Once she accepted that, she found her hosts and said her goodbyes.

  Avery drove around the outskirts of the city, avoiding the congestion of the Strip. But it wasn’t just the overwhelming traffic that kept her away. It was the realization she would end up at the Royal Sterling, looking for Cole.

  And she didn’t have it in her to agree to his ultimatum.

  She stopped at a traffic light and dropped her head onto the steering wheel.

  Why the hell am I making this so complicated?

  No doubt, what he had demanded of her would be difficult. She was accustomed to letting her man—her Dom—be in charge. And Dirk’s scoldings had been a constant narrative during a scene.

  Beneath the mask, she’d become someone different, but what if she could learn to be that person all the time?

  The car behind her honked impatiently, alerting her to the fact that the light had turned green. She accelerated, and so did her thoughts and heart rate.

  She’d gained confidence from her time with Master Cole. What if he encouraged and supported her growth?

  He’d been right when he’d told her she needed to be honest with herself. So she allowed herself to admit she wanted, needed him.

  Now what?

  It would take a ton of resolve to act on her newfound admission, to either show up at his hotel room or ask Diana for his number.

  Unfortunately, Avery wasn’t that brave, no matter how much she wanted to be.

  Avery spent Sunday doing chores and working out. When she returned home, she tried a couple of different books. When neither held her, she settled in front of the television and binged her way through an entire season of a home improvement show. To prove to herself that she wasn’t hopeless, she opened a bottle of expensive special-occasion wine, then poured herself a glass.

  It didn’t help.

  No matter what she did, she couldn’t escape the fact that her cowardice was the major contributor to her unhappiness.

  Once she was in her bedroom, she slipped the bullet vibrator inside her pussy and masturbated to memories of Cole. They
were a thousand times more potent than her imagination ever had been.

  Even more frustrating, she was unable to climax.

  Annoyed, she removed the toy, cleaned it, then dropped it back into her drawer.

  At work on Monday morning, two of Avery’s coworkers followed her into the break room to chat about their weekend outings, the movies they’d seen, the parties they’d attended. When asked about her time off, she replied noncommittally, then went into her office and got busy on her spreadsheets behind a closed door.

  She stayed later than most people, and at six o’clock, Aunt Scarlet dropped by her office.

  “Darling girl.” Her great-aunt took plopped into a seat without waiting for an invitation. “You didn’t return my call.”

  Since her aunt was too perceptive at times, Avery had dodged the two Sunday calls. She should have expected Scarlet to show up in person.

  “It’s a man, isn’t it?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “When you hide from me, it’s because of a man.”

  “I wasn’t hiding.”

  Aunt Scarlet’s eyes went wide, sending her lashes soaring. “You were hiding.”

  Avery sank a little lower in her chair. “Okay. I was hiding.”

  “Tell me about him.”

  “You seem to have done quite well without a man.”

  “That’s because I had dozens. Still do. I like”—she waved a ring-covered hand—“variety, shall we say. I like rich ones and creatives ones. Skilled lovers. Men who will jet me to their island. Mostly, I like my independence. It’s cost me some relationships.” She took a breath, and she blinked rapidly. It couldn’t be tears, could it? “Some I regret.”

  The moisture in her aunt’s eyes vanished so fast that Avery was sure she’d imagined it. “Do you?”

  “Yes. Not many. But I do wonder about Billy.”

  The mobster? “What would you do differently?”

  “Nothing. I have to live with some scars, but to me, it’s worth it. You, however, are different. Such a tender heart.”

  “So what do you recommend I do?”

  “Oh, heavens! I would never give you advice!”

  “But if you did?”

  “Live with no regrets. Do what makes you happy. Anything can be undone. Except, perhaps, chances you didn’t take.”

  Avery exhaled.

  “It’s the security man, isn’t it?” Aunt Scarlet leaned forward, as if soliciting a secret.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, honey. The way he looked at you.” She shimmied, and in the process moved forward a couple of inches in her chair. “He’s yummy. And he wants you.”

  “He gave me an ultimatum.”

  “Ah,” she replied, as if she understood. “A man who knows what he wants. He’s good to you?”

  He was.

  “And you wouldn’t be suffering if you didn’t like him.”

  Avery exhaled.

  “So, if I were to give advice, which I don’t, I’d say give it a try. Well, unless the terms of his ultimatum are dreadful. Are they?”

  “Emotionally, maybe.”

  “It’s up to you, then. If the risk isn’t worth the reward, spend the next six months moping.”

  Offended, she responded. “I’m not moping.”

  “You are. And that’s not living. So, forget him and go have some fun tonight. See a movie. Try a new restaurant. Or be brave and see where it goes. If it doesn’t work out, at least you’ll know. You might get hurt, but you won’t have the scars of never knowing and always wondering what might have been.”

  “When did you get to be so wise?”

  “I was born this way. And so were you.” She winked. “Chin up, darling girl.” Aunt Scarlet grabbed the handle of her oversize purse. Rising, she said, “If you’ll excuse me, Gerard is in town. And this is an evening I fully intend to embrace. No show tonight. Well…except for his command performance.”

  “Wait.” Avery blinked. “Gerard who?”

  “He was in a few movies or…something on television. He looks good in a kilt. Very nice legs.”

  “You’ve got to tell me,” Avery demanded.

  Scarlet rounded the desk to drop a kiss on Avery’s forehead. “Remember to choose the path that will help you live with no regrets.” Without another word, Aunt Scarlet breezed out, letting her wisdom linger on a cloud of perfume.

  Avery collapsed against the back of her seat. For several minutes, the conversation replayed in her mind.

  Walking away from Cole had left a hole deep inside. She could go on with her life, but one point that Scarlet made continued to resonate. If she agreed to Cole’s terms, Avery might very well get hurt, but she wouldn’t have to live with not knowing how it might have turned out.

  Contemplatively, she tapped a finger on the arm of her chair.

  Could she do it? Take the chance?

  It would mean being honest. Not just with him, but with herself.

  She blew out a breath to steady her nerves. The truth was, if she didn’t at least try, she would be disappointed in herself. She needed to be as brave without a mask as she had been wearing one.

  Before her newfound resolve fled, she picked up her phone to text Diana for Cole’s number.

  It didn’t mean Avery had to contact him. It just meant she could, if she decided to.

  Instead of staring at the phone, waiting for a response that might not come, she dropped the device into her purse, then straightened her desk before leaving for the night.

  Her phone chimed while she was navigating traffic, so she waited until she was at a stoplight to check her messages.

  Diana had replied in her customary precise way. She’d attached Cole’s contact card, with all his information—email address, social media accounts, and his cell phone. His number showed up in blue, which meant all Avery just had to do was touch the screen to be connected.

  She moved her finger toward the number and hovered over it.

  But she couldn’t make herself tap the number. Thank God, the light turned green, allowing her to put off the action a little longer.

  By the time she arrived home, nerves were pouring through her. She was going to call him. But then what would she do if he didn’t answer? Leave a message? What would she say? What if he didn’t call back? Her mind skipped through a dozen different scenarios before she harnessed her thoughts and took a breath, drawing on the coaching he’d given her when they scened.

  She made herself face the fact that he might reject her. If so, at least she would know. She’d be no more hurt than she was right now.

  But if he wanted to see her…

  That possibility made her tighten her grip.

  By the time she arrived home, she’d made her decision.

  She walked down the hallway leading to her apartment, and her step faltered. A man stood near her door. Not just any man—one who was tall, broad, unshaven, sexy. He wore a charcoal-gray suit, and his only concession to it being after work hours was the loosened knot in his tie. Stunned, she stopped near him. “Master Cole.”

  “Avery.” He pushed away from the wall.

  “You know who I am.” Of course. He had all of Hawkeye’s resources at his fingertips.

  “I’ve known all along.”

  Nervously she tucked her hair behind her ears. “That’s not possible.”

  “I saw you, that night when I was at Alcott and Diana’s with Gia. I overheard your friends calling you Avery, and the name was unusual, beautiful, so I remembered it. It could have been a scene name,” he allowed. “But I didn’t get the sense it was. Then I noticed you at the club about six months ago.”

  “Those sleuthing skills come in handy.”

  “I was hoping you’d be brave enough to come to me. Or, hell… I was so intrigued by you that I would have made a move if you’d shown enough interest.”

  She lurched, as if the world had suddenly started to spin backward.

  “Your eyes, Avery. They give away the world. The way you walk,
your ass swaying? Your body is so damn sexy. Hair length, color? Mask?” He shrugged. “It wouldn’t matter how you altered your appearance. I would always know you.”

  Damn, he’d told her he could be counted on to give her what she needed. He left her speechless.

  “Since you contacted Diana, I wanted to meet you halfway. I would never ask you to take all the risk. I do want you to ask for what you want, but I will make it easy for you. You will always know I respect and value you. I brought you a cupcake in case I need to bribe my way inside.” From behind his back, he presented a gorgeous pink box wrapped with a white ribbon. “It’s triple chocolate.”

  “You’re an evil man.” But oh, so wonderfully sweet.

  “I’m holding it hostage.”

  It might have been her imagination, but she swore she could smell the sugar in the frosting.

  “I was going to give you another couple of days; then I’d have been all over you. I’ve been crazy with missing you. If you refused to see me, I planned to hang out near the cupcake machine, figuring you’d show up eventually.”

  A neighbor and her two boys who were punching each other entered the hallway.

  Avery moved her keys from hand to hand. “I think you should come in.”

  Seconds later, he locked the door behind them, and she hung her purse from the coatrack.

  He followed her into the kitchen, then placed her gift on the counter.

  “I missed you too.” Her words were soft. “Terribly.” This was difficult, but the longer she talked, the easier it got. “Being honest with you has to be easier than not being with you.”

  “That night, before you left, you said there were costs to everything. Asking for too much. Being too much. Tell me about it.”

  Her first test. “Can we, uhm…? How about something to drink?”

  “No. I’m fine. But you should, if you wish.”

  She shook her head. “But I would like us to sit in the living room.”

  He followed, and she sat in an armchair, while he lowered himself onto the sofa. He leaned forward and laced his fingers on top of his knees.

  “I’ve been single for a year and a half.” She drew a breath. She hadn’t shared these details with anyone. Cole remained silent, waiting while she collected her thoughts. “My boyfriend—Dom—said I wanted to scene too often. He called me needy.” She paused. That wasn’t quite the truth. His wording had hurt more. “It was actually ungrateful. He was supposed to be in charge, so that meant everything in our relationship was up to him.” With a little shrug, she went on. “I stopped asking. I took what little he offered, and I was supposed to be grateful for it. I was…but at the same time, I wasn’t. I began to think he was right. Maybe my sex drive was too high. I was restless, feeling neglected. We played once a month, if that. I made the mistake of asking if we could go to Diana and Alcott’s one night, and Dirk snapped. He called me an ungrateful bitch. Then he left. I never heard from him again.”