At His Mercy: The Billionaire's Beck and Call, Part 2 (A BDSM Erotic Romance) Read online

  At His Mercy (The Billionaire’s Beck & Call, Part 2)

  By Delilah Fawkes

  “Isabeau! Get in here this instant!”

  A shiver of anticipation raced down my spine and I allowed myself time for a smile before jumping up from my desk. This was the second time Mr. Drake called me into his office today, and from his tone, he sounded like he was about to lose it. Just as I’d planned.

  I eased open the mahogany door and slipped inside, checking my hair to make sure it hadn’t escaped its chignon. Mr. Drake sat on the edge of his desk facing the doorway, perched like a bird of prey. His wavy hair was perfectly in place, but his green eyes had a wild look behind them, like I was trying his last nerve.

  And maybe I was.

  “Come here.” His voice was dangerously low.

  I walked toward him slowly, suddenly feeling nervous. What if my plan backfired? What if instead of punishing me like last time, he just fired me instead? I swallowed, my mouth suddenly drier than a cotton ball.

  I stopped a couple of feet away from him, but he crooked his finger, beckoning me closer. I gulped and complied, moving forward until we were eye to eye, his gaze boring into me. He was so close now that I could smell the fresh scent of his aftershave just inches from my nose.

  “What,” he said, “Is this?”

  He thrust a piece of paper in front of me, and I suppressed a smirk. The copy I’d made of the boardroom minutes was off center, the edge cut off in a way I knew was making him crazy. Mr. Drake was nothing if not a control freak.

  “It’s the copy you asked for,” I said, innocently.

  He grimaced before crumpling the copy into a tight ball.

  “This is not the standard of work I require, Isabeau, and I think you know that. Where the hell is your head today?”

  He grabbed my hand, making me jump, and shoved the wad of paper into it.

  “Get this out of my sight and do it again. RIGHT, this time!”

  I waited another moment, hoping he’d say something else, but he just stared at me like I was an idiot.

  “Don’t make me repeat myself,” he growled, and stood, towering over me.

  “Yes, Sir,” I said, and high tailed it out of there.

  I sighed as I recopied the minutes, feeling the sting of embarassment coloring my cheeks as I thought about my gorgeous boss. I’d hoped if I provoked him, he’d lose control again and ask me to bend over his desk, like he had just one week ago. It had been one of the hottest experiences of my life, being totally at his mercy as he spanked my ass red and brought me to orgasm… All because I was naughty and needed to be punished.

  But where was my punishment now? He said it would never happen again, but I couldn’t accept it, not after what had passed between us. I bit my lip anxiously, replaying our interactions over the past few days in my head. He had been nothing but purely professional, if a little gruff at times.

  He was still Chase Drake, demanding billionaire CEO, after all, even if he did have one indescretion with his lowly assistant. Maybe that’s all I was to him. A replaceable toy that he would never stoop to sleep with, much less date. Now that he’d had his fun, he’d cast me aside.

  Who was I kidding? Maybe he was serious when he said he’d never touch me like that again. Never lose control.

  I handed him the fresh copy with his afternoon coffee, and he didn’t so much as look at me. My heart clenched in my chest, but I kept my chin high, and my eyes impassive as I backed out and took my spot at my desk.

  It was like he’d already forgotten that anything had happened.

  And maybe you should, too, Isa. Don’t get involved. It was a terrible idea from the start, messing around with the boss.

  I sighed and lay my head down on the wood, hoping against hope that the clock would speed up and the day would end. And that maybe, I could forget what happened, too.

  ***

  “Isa…”

  I awoke to a gentle hand on my shoulder. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was. The room was dim, the lights out, and only the rays of the street light cast a glow through the window. I realized my head was on something hard, and raised up, moaning softly as my back popped. I had a crick in my neck and rubbed it, still groggy and disoriented.

  “You fell asleep at your desk.”

  My eyes widened at the familiar, low voice. Chase Drake was kneeling down next to me, his cufflink gleaming in the beam of light, his face cast in shadow. I knew he was watching me carefully, even though I couldn’t see his expression.

  “I… I’m sorry… I must be a mess.”

  My hand flew to my hair, trying desperately to smooth down flyaways, but it was hopeless. My bun had come undone, my curls spilling down over my shoulder on one side.

  He grabbed my wrist, stopping me.

  “Isabeau. Stop.”

  His touch made me shiver, and a feeling of dread welled up inside of me. I couldn’t believe I’d fallen asleep here and let him find me like this. This was beyond making a crappy copy or forgetting cream in his coffee. This was inexcusable. I hung my head.

  “Look at me.”

  His voice was almost a whisper, but sounded everything like a command. I raised my eyes as he moved closer, into the light. Instead of the anger I’d expected, his eyes held an unexpected tenderness.

  “You look beautiful,” he said, smoothing the hair out of my eyes.

  I sucked in a breath, unsure how to react. Was I in trouble? Or not?

  His hand lingered in my hair, teasing my curls around his fingers. My heart was thumping so loudly, I wondered if he could hear the effect he had on me.

  “Mr. Drake?”

  He stood abruptly, pulling me up with him.

  “It’s late. Let me drive you.”

  “But, I… It’s so much trouble.”

  He eyed me in a strange way. “I know you take the bus, Isa. Surely, they’ve stopped running by now.”

  I looked away again. He was just trying to be a good guy, but the fact that I was now his burden because of my slip up was too much.

  “You don’t have to do that, Mr. Drake. I can get myself home just fine. It’s my fault for falling asleep like that. I… I didn’t know you’d be working so late.”

  “Ms. Willcox,” he said, his tone harsh, but mocking. “If I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you to my car, I’ll do it. I want you home safe, not walking home in the dark to save on cab fare.”

  My cheeks were burning, shame welling up inside of me. He was worth more than I’d ever see in my lifetime, hell, more than I could imagine, and here I was, poor and alone, without enough money for cab fare. How did he know? And more importantly, what must he think of me?

  “So, I was right.” He stared down at me frowning, a crease growing on his brow.

  I ran a hand over my face and sighed before pulling out of his grip. “I’m fine, Mr. Drake. Really.”

  I grabbed my purse and made for the elevator, but as soon as I pushed the button, there he was. I felt his presence like a force of nature, larger than life behind me. I didn’t turn around, daring myself to stand tall, despite the embarrassment I felt like a sock to the gut.

  The doors slid open, and we stepped through together. There was silence on the ride down to the lobby, but I could feel his eyes on me, assessing me coolly like I was a puzzle he was trying to figure out.

  When the bell chimed and the doors slid open again, I yelped as I found myself lifted off my feet. Mr. Drake slung me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and I held on for dear life.

&nb
sp; “I warned you what would happen if you tried to walk home, Isabeau. I was very clear. You’re coming with me, and I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

  I hung there in shock as he began walking toward the parking lot, bobbing with each step, wondering whether I should laugh or cry. Was my gorgeous boss really carrying me away like a cave man? What the hell?

  “I’m fine! Really!” I squeaked, trying not to stare at his sculpted ass, which was conveniently at eye level.

  A hard swat came down on my rear, and I gasped.

  “That’s just about enough of that, Isa. Don’t ever lie to me.”

  “But…”

  He spanked me again, and my pussy heated, despite the furious blush on my face and the twinge of anger coursing through me at being treated this way. I was a grown woman! I can take care of myself, even if it did mean walking the four miles to my place… in the dark… in heels. It was my business, and mine alone.

  “Enough. One more word out of you before we’re in the car, and I’ll spank your ass raw right here in public. Is that what you want?”

  I opened my mouth to protest, then shut it, sensing the trap.

  “Very good,” he said, chuckling.

  He carried me as if I weighed nothing, moving steadily to the executive lot where his Bentley sat, gleaming black beneath the lonely street lamp. I heard the chirp of his locks springing open, and the rumble of his engine as he remote started it.

  Then, the world shifted, and I was being held tightly against him as I regained my feet. His body was hard and warm, and, in that moment, I wanted nothing better than to press myself up against him and let him hold me all night. I pushed away, steadying myself.

  “Hop in,” he said.

  He held the door open for me and grinned, his twin dimples making my insides melt.

  I nodded and slid into the supple leather seat, letting him close the door behind me. I repressed a giggle. You never hear about a caveman opening doors for a lady. Mr. Drake slid behind the wheel, unbuttoning his Armani suit jacket as he did. I couldn’t help but stare for a moment at this man, my boss, who cared so much about me making it home safe.

  The door clicked shut, and we were off. We sat in silence for a while as he merged onto the freeway, the lights of the city flickering by like fire flies on a hot summer night. I sat back in the seat, loving the feel of the leather on my skin, before my stomach rumbled loudly, making me wish I could sink into it and disappear.

  “Are you hungry?” Mr. Drake glanced over at me and grinned. When I didn’t respond, he added, “You can talk now, you know.”

  I smiled into the darkness. “A bit. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

  “I’m starving, too. Hang on. I know a place.”

  Before I could protest, he was exiting, moving toward downtown, away from my apartment. I realized that I never told him where I lived. Where had he been taking me?

  We pulled up to a restaurant whose name I couldn’t pronounce, and he opened the car door for me once again before tossing his keys to the valet. Yep. There was a freaking valet at this place. I looked down at my work clothes and chewed my lip. Mr. Drake was already at the door, holding it for me, looking at me with a raised eyebrow.

  The maitre de smiled and shook Mr. Drake’s hand before ushering him to “his table.” It was my turn to raise an eyebrow as I looked around the place. The lights were low and candles flickered on every table. The walls were covered in gorgeous polished wood with art work hanging in lighted niches. I’d never been to a restaurant like this, and suddenly, I was glad for the dim lighting. I stuck out like a sore thumb.

  I ran my hands through my hair, trying to smooth it out now that it was down, before Mr. Drake caught my hand. His eyes seemed to be looking through me before he pulled my chair out and gestured for me to sit. He sat down before letting me go, his hand lingering on mine.

  “Are you uncomfortable here?”

  His question caught me off guard. Was I that obvious?

  “A little,” I said. “I’m not dressed for it.” I glanced down at the menu, and swallowed hard. “And I don’t think I can afford it,” I ended, my voice just above a whisper.

  Mr. Drake laughed, and I stared at him in surprise.

  “No one cares what you’re wearing, Isabeau. You’re with me.” He leaned in, the angles of his face accentuated by the candlelight. “And when you’re with me, it’s my treat. I thought that much was obvious.”

  Relief flooded me, and I sat back with a long exhale. “Thank you, Sir.”

  There was a strange light in his eyes at the word ‘Sir,’ but as soon as I saw it, it was gone, and he was leaning comfortably back, looking at the menu. Had I imagined it?

  “My pleasure. Now, tell me, Isabeau. Have you ever had foie gras?”

  ***

  At first I’d worried we’d have nothing to talk about, but as dinner wore on, Mr. Drake seemed to delight in introducing me new foods and wines, watching my face intently as I tried them all, and smiling like a kid on Christmas morning when he found something I enjoyed. The bone marrow foam turned out to be delicious instead of disgusting (as I’d feared), and the riesling paired with the crème brulee was the best thing I’d had in years.

  He asked about my family, and I told him about my sister and brother back in Oregon, and how I’d been living with my Grandma Rose, taking care of her until she passed away this year.

  “That explains why a woman like you was temping. You put your career on hold for her, didn’t you?”

  I frowned back at him. “What do you mean? ‘A woman like me’?”

  Is he insulting me? After all this?

  “You’re a beautiful woman in her mid 20s, Isabeau. College educated, smart, capable. You should have a career. You should be excelling in a career. You’re not a temp.”

  I looked down at my hands, twisting my napkin in my lap.

  “Sometimes life has other plans, I guess. I hope I didn’t disappoint.”

  My words sounded bitter, but I meant it that way. Who the hell did Mr. Drake think he was? There was nothing wrong with being a temp. I made enough money to have my own, admittedly tiny, place. I paid my bills. I lived my life. Wasn’t that enough?

  A life like mine will never be enough for some people.

  His hand covered mine on the tablecloth, and I looked up into those green eyes of his.

  “I think you misunderstand me. I meant that you can be anything you want to be, and the fact that you sacrificed like that for family is… noble. Your Grandmother was a very lucky woman to have you looking after her. I don’t think anyone in my family would ever be that selfless.”

  I sat in stunned silence, feeling the comforting weight of his hand on mine, realizing I’d misjudged him, even after the kindness he’d shown me tonight.

  “Thank you.”

  Tears had sprung up behind my eyes, and it took all my effort to push them back down. The last thing I needed was for this powerful man to see me cry over dessert. I was just tired, was all. Tired of sacrifice. Tired of second guessing all of my choice. Of trying to be my best every hour of every day.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  ***

  On the drive home, wine warming me from within combined with the soft murmer of the radio made my eyes heavy. I’d only had a couple of glasses, but I’d sampled several others the sommelier brought over, and had a nice buzz going. Not drunk, but lubricated and comfortable.

  Mr. Drake was quiet, seemingly lost in thought as he drove me home. My apartment was a bit of a drive away from the restaurant, and soon I found myself nodding off, try as I might to stay awake.

  ***

  I awoke to strong arms carrying me through a hallway I didn’t recognize. I murmered against a soft jacket, and noticed a chandelier out of the corner of my eye. Where the hell was I, and why was I being carried?

  The smell of Mr. Drake’s aftershave wafted over me, and for a moment, I wanted to pretend I was asleep again, if it meant I could snuggle agains
t him without him stopping me. But I’d raised my head off his muscled shoulder and the moment had passed.

  “Where am I?”

  “You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t want to wake you. I brought you to my home instead. I thought you could use the rest.”

  He stopped and set me down at the entrance to a lavish bedroom. Rich wallpaper gave the room a warm feeling, surrounding the four poster bed covered in lush linens that dominated the room.

  “You brought me home with you?”

  He gave me a lopsided grin that made my heart do a little flip. “Are you worried I won’t be a gentleman?”

  I gave him a shy smile. “You have been all night. Why should I doubt you now?”

  He showed me the bathroom attached to the guest room, and I stared at the silky white bathrobe hanging in the corner, as well as the toiletries laid out.

  “I called ahead while you were sleeping and let the staff know you were coming,” he offered, as if he had no idea how strange it sounded to me. “Please. Make yourself comfortable.”

  I sat on the bed, smoothing my hands over the sheets. They must have been some ridiculous threadcount by the luxurious feel of the cotton. Why should I be surprised that even his guest room had the best of the best in it? He has a staff for God’s sake!

  “Thank you, Mr. Drake.” I smiled up at him, wondering what this night meant, if anything.

  “Please,” he said, “Call me Chase when we’re not at work.”

  I smiled up at him and tried the name on for size. “Chase…”

  “Goodnight, Isabeau.”

  He closed the door behind him, leaving me with more questions than answers.

  ***

  I awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of footsteps outside my room, then a door creaking open. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and climbed out of bed. I pulled on the short silk robe, loving the way it felt against my naked body, and tip toed to the door. If Mr. Drake was up, what was he doing? I glanced at the clock. It was nearly 3 a.m.

  I eased the door open and glanced down the hallway. There was a black door at the end of the hall standing ajar, and I heard the sound of ice cubes clinking against glass. I knew I shouldn’t snoop, but curiosity burned inside of me. Would one little peek hurt? After all, my host had said to make myself comfortable…