Read London Bound Online

Authors: Jessica Jarman

Tags: #BDSM, #D/s, #collar, #erotic romance, #London, #Bound, #Jessica Jarman, #bondage, #British, #OWYM, #Older Woman/Younger Man

London Bound (11 page)

She flopped against the pillows and drew the sheet up around her, shivering slightly. “I’m going to The Globe, and there’s a cathedral Emily wants me to visit that’s not too far from there. But first,” she stifled a yawn, “I’m going to sleep a bit more.”

He didn’t respond as he pulled a suit jacket from the closet and put it on. Meg’s stomach dropped, and she sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest.

“You probably want me to get out of here, though, right? Since you’re going to work and all. I’ll just get my stuff and go upstairs.”

Before she could swing her legs around to get up, Nathan’s hand settled between her breasts, and he pushed her back against the bed. She moaned as his weight pressed her into the mattress.

“Stay.” He slid his hand up, wrapped his fingers loosely around her throat. “My bed is your bed, for as long as you want.”

“O-o-okay.” Meg swallowed, and her hips jerked up when his grip tightened slightly.

He smiled, eyes crinkling, obviously aware of his effect on her. Lowering his head, he kissed her hard, nipping her bottom lip as he pulled away.

“Sleep well, love. Think of me,” he murmured.

As if not thinking of him was a possibility.

“I’ll ring you later.” He stopped in the doorway. “Your key is on the counter.”

“My what?”

“Your key to the flat.” Nathan grinned. “Lock up when you leave, yeah?”

Meg stared at him dumbly as he walked out of the room. Then, she smiled. So wide her cheeks ached. She curled up on her side, feeling disgustingly warm and fuzzy. And happy. God, she was happy. Reaching out, she grabbed the pillow from the other side of the bed and hugged it. She inhaled deeply and groaned as Nathan’s scent surrounded her. Closing her eyes, she tried to push everything from her mind—especially the wondering what Nathan planned for later, because that wasn’t going to allow her to get any more sleep.

When she rolled over later and slowly sat up, she realized she must have dozed because bright sunlight filled the room. The faint sound of her phone ringing reached her, and she jumped up and ran into the living room. She dug through her purse and pulled the phone out. Nathan’s name filled the screen, and she did a little dance of excitement until she realized she was naked, and that was just ridiculous.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Hello, gorgeous girl.”

God, it really wasn’t fair that his deep accented voice over the freaking phone could make her ache.

“I thought we could meet for lunch,” he continued. “Where are you?”

“Oh, well...” She glanced at the clock and did a double take. “Holy shit, it’s eleven-thirty!”

“You just woke up, didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” she muttered.

He chuckled. “All right, I’ll send a car. We’ll have lunch. Then, you can do your tourist-y things.”

“You don’t have to send anything. Just text me the—”

“Meg, I’m sending a car,” he said, firm and hard. And, God help her, sexy as hell. “It will be there in thirty minutes. Be ready.”

“Yes, Sir,” Meg said quickly then bit her lip, wondering if she’d just made a big mistake. They weren’t in the bedroom now.

“That’s my girl.”

The low, gravelly words sent a tremor through her.

“Wear something pretty,” he said, his tone both teasing and commanding at the same time. “A dress or skirt.”

“Oh,” she exhaled. “Okay, I can... I can...” She closed her eyes and said, “Yes, Sir,” again.

He hummed. “See you soon, love.”

She stood in the center of the room a few moments after the call ended then, realizing she was wasting what little time she had, quickly dressed in last night’s clothes. After grabbing her purse then the key from the counter—her key, she thought giddily—she locked up the apartment and hurried upstairs.

The next half hour passed in a flurry of getting ready—shower, make-up, twisting and pinning her damp hair up, debating what to wear. She finally settled on a dark red A-line skirt that floated around her thighs paired with a white blouse and her brown knee-high boots—the flat ones because she figured she’d be walking everywhere after lunch and wanted to save her feet the pain later. She stared in the mirror, fiddling with the top button of the shirt before finally undoing, along with the next one so the curves of her breasts peeked out. She sighed—this would have to do. Digging through her clothing, she’d come to the conclusion she definitely dressed for comfort and functionality rather than prettiness.

She nearly tripped racing down the stairs at the thirty-six minute mark. Sure enough, when she exited the building, a black town car was double-parked on the street. A tall man in a suit got out and rounded the front of the car.

“Ms. Stevens.” He nodded as he opened the rear door.

“Thank you.” She ducked her head and slid onto the leather seat. Clasping her hands on top of her purse, she waited until he was back inside the vehicle before saying, “I’m sorry I was running a bit late.”

His brown eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. “Not a problem, ma’am.” As he started navigating the streets, he said, “Mr. Harris says this is your first time in London. Have you been enjoying your holiday?”

By the time, the driver—his name was Jack—pulled up to a tall building nearly twenty minutes later, they’d chatted about the sights Meg had already visited, and she was scribbling his suggestions for sights to visit in the small notebook from her purse.

“Thank you so much,” she said. “Especially letting me know the best times to visit some of these places.”

Jack smiled broadly. “Nath—
Mr. Harris
said you should go directly to the fifth floor and check in with the receptionist there.”

Meg looked at him quizzically. “You know Nathan pretty well?”

He laughed and turned slightly in his seat. “Yeah, I went to school with his sister, Lara, and play footie with him most weekends—you should come while you’re here. Even if it’s just to watch him running around all sweaty and imagine getting him out of his kit.” He winked.

Meg’s face heated as Jack got out and came around to open her door. When she stepped out, Jack grinned down at her. “He sounded really happy when he called earlier.”

She scrunched her nose. “Don’t know what that has to do with me.”

“Sure you don’t, though your blushing cheeks say otherwise. Whatever the reason is, it’s good to hear.” He shut the door and faced her. “Well, it was lovely to meet you, Ms. Stevens.”

“I think you can call me Meg,” she said with a laugh.

“Of course. Maybe I’ll see you this weekend,” he said, backing away. “But if not, enjoy the rest of your holiday, Meg.”

“Thanks ag—” Her phone chirped, and she dug into her purse, smiling apologetically at Jack. She glanced at the screen—a text from Nathan.

Even with mad traffic, it doesn’t take this long. How late were you getting down to the car?

“Oooooh,” she drawled.

“Nathan, yeah? Better get up there before he decides to, I don’t know, turn you over his knee or something. ” Jack wiggled his brows then winked at her before slipping behind the wheel.

Meg stared at the car, heart thudding, before turning quickly to enter the building. She strode to the bank of elevators and managed to control her shaking until she was alone in one of the cars moving up.

“Oh, God.” Did he know? Did Jack know what she and Nathan... “
Oh, God
.”

She fiddled with her purse strap and shifted from foot to foot as she waited for the elevator to stop. When the doors slid open, she shoved aside the fear that Jack knew anything—she didn’t have to see him ever again unless she chose to, so it wasn’t a big deal—and stepped off. The reception desk was to her left, and she slowly walked over.

“I’m here to see Nathan Harris,” she said when the pretty blonde looked at her questioningly. “Uh, I’m Meg Stevens.”

The woman looked at her computer and smiled at Meg. “Of course, Ms. Stevens. If you’d go straight down the hall,” she gestured to the left, “Mr. Harris’ office is at the very end. His PA’s desk is right outside; she’ll let him know you’re here.”

“Thank you.”

Meg pressed a hand to her belly as she made her way down the corridor. She shouldn’t feel this nervous seeing him. Not after everything they’d done, the arrangement they now had. Coming to stop in front of the desk where a young brunette sat staring at her computer screen as if the secrets of the universe lay before her, Meg cleared her throat.

Big blue eyes peered at her over the monitor. “Yes?”

“I’m here to see Nathan,” Meg said, with a smile, which fell when the woman just blinked at her. “My name’s Meg Stevens. He’s expecting me.”

“I’m sorry, but
Mr. Harris’
schedule is rather tight, today.”

Meg snorted when the PA turned her attention back to the computer. It was unlikely that the receptionist knew who Meg was with a glance at the computer, but his damned PA, who made his schedule, didn’t know Meg was expected.

“Nathan is expecting me. Buzz him.”

“Mr. Harris is a very busy man, and he requested that he not be disturbed today.”

“I’m sure he did.” Meg shrugged and pulled her purse open. “I’ll just phone him to clear this up.”

The PA sighed heavily and snatched the receiver from the phone base and jabbed a button. Glaring at Meg, she waited a moment then said sweetly, “I’m so sorry to disturb you, Mr. Harris, but there is a woman here who won’t— Pardon me? Yes, a Ms. Stevens. Should I— Hello?”

Her eyes widened when the door to the right opened. Meg turned to see Nathan striding from the office.

“About bloody time,” he murmured, taking her face in his hands and covering her mouth with his.

Meg moaned and grasped his waist as he deepened the kiss, winding his tongue around hers. When he pulled away, she stared up at him and tried to catch her breath. His lips curved slowly then parted, widening into a broad grin.

“Hello, love.”

“H-h-hi.”

He dropped a quick kiss on her lips before lowering his hands and turning towards his PA.

“Rachel, Ms. Stevens is always to be allowed through, understood?”

“But—”

“Always. No exceptions.”

Meg fought to keep a calm expression on her face when her eyes just wanted to roll back and her body heated in response to his hard, commanding tone.

“Yes, sir.”

Those two words were enough to douse every bit of warmth Meg felt. She pressed her lips together as Nathan settled his hand on the small of her back and led her into office. Once the door was closed behind him, he took her purse and jacket and hung them on the coat tree near the door as Meg looked around. The space was impressively large with tall windows showcasing an amazing view of the city. One she wasn’t appreciating, at all. God, her mind was such a mess. Why was she letting one bitchy PA who clearly had a crush on her boss—and who could freaking blame her?—ruin her mood. Never mind the fact Rachel pretty much epitomized the type of girl Meg imagined Nathan being with. Gorgeous, fit, and about half Meg’s age.

“Are we in freak out mode?”

She lifted her head to find Nathan leaning against the door, watching her with just the hint of a smile.

“What do you mean?” She shook her head. “Of course not.”

“Hmmm.” He straightened and closed the space between them. “The furrowed brow, not meeting my eyes, muttering under your breath... Just reading the signs, my gorgeous girl.”

“Not freaking out,” she said firmly, because maybe if she thought and said it often enough, it would be true. “Just think maybe you should reconsider your choice of personal assistant. She’s rude.”

“Is she?” He dragged a fingertip along her blouse, barely skimming the sensitive skin of her breasts.

“She wasn’t going to let me in,” Meg pointed out. “She wouldn’t have even called in if I hadn’t threatened to call you myself.”

She sighed.

“Never mind. I don’t know what I’m making a big deal about. Maybe she’s having a bad day or something. I mean, she was all sweet to you with the ‘Mr. Harris’ this and that and the ‘Yes, sir,’” she said with mock breathlessness. “So just— Wh-what are you doing?”

At this point, he was undoing the last button on her blouse, opening it to expose the white lace bra beneath.

“Whatever I want,” he murmured, brushing his knuckles over her quivering stomach.

“I thought we were going out to lunch?” She tried to keep her voice steady and knew she’d failed when Nathan chuckled.

“We will,” he promised. “I just have a few things I need to take care of before we leave.”

God, she hoped one of those things was the ache between her legs.

Leaning forward, he sucked the lobe of her ear into his hot mouth and swirled his tongue around. He released it with a pop then whispered, “Take your knickers off.”

“Okay.”

He stepped close, shoving her arms behind her back and circling her wrists in the tight grip of one hand. Then, he cupped the back of her neck and forced her gaze to collide with his.

“What was that, love?”

“Yes, Sir,” she gasped. “I meant, yes, Sir.”

“I thought so,” he murmured.

Just as quickly as he’d caught her in his hold, he released her.

“Knickers off,” he ordered, walking over to the large desk on the other side of the room.

Trembling with anticipation, she drew her skirt up and reached beneath the material to work her panties over her hips and down. When she straightened, Nathan leaned against the edge of his desk, legs stretched in front of him, ankles crossed.

“Come here.”

“Yes, Sir,” she responded, though he probably didn’t require it at this point as long as she followed his directions. But she needed it, needed to say it, needed to show him where she was mentally.

When she stepped close, he plucked the panties from her hand and slipped them into the pocket of his suit jacket.

“Sit down.”

Nathan gestured to the chair facing his desk then moved behind her as she sat. His breath tickled her neck as he leaned over her and took hold of her skirt. He pulled, and the material slithered up her legs.

“Put your feet on the desk.”

“What?” She twisted to look at him, and he pinned her with a dark, steady stare.

Other books

Every Seven Years by Denise Mina
Destiny Revealed by Bailey, Nicole
Peter Camenzind by Hermann Hesse
That God Won't Hunt by Sizemore, Susan
The Assailant by James Patrick Hunt
My Beautiful Hippie by Janet Nichols Lynch