Buttons & Hate Page 7

The other me?

  She answered my unspoken question. “I like it when you let your walls down. I like it when you reveal who you truly are. When we’re at the estate you’re back to business, brooding and silent. You close off from me like always. And it takes forever to pull you back out.”

  She observed me with greater detail than I could ever imagine. “You close off from me too.”

  “In retaliation.”

  My hand moved to hers on her lap. “I am who I am. No one will ever change that. I give you what you want when I can. But you can’t expect me to give it to you all the time.”

  “Only when I have buttons...”

  I turned my gaze back to the road, the silence filling up the air and making it inhospitable.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  I looked straight ahead but kept her movements in my peripheral vision.

  When I didn’t respond she asked her question. “Do you only do things I enjoy because of the buttons?”

  What other reason would I have? “Yes.”

  “So, you wouldn’t be so sweet to me otherwise?”

  “No.” I didn’t care about shattering her dreams. From the beginning I made it clear she was just my slave. I did horrific things to her because it got me off. That was it.

  “Because I like the things you do to me...even without the buttons.” She slowly turned my way, her expression hard and unreadable.

  My hand remained on hers. “What are you saying?” I didn’t know what this conversation meant. I didn’t know what conclusion she was trying to reach.

  “I just think you enjoy the things I ask you to do...even if you won’t admit it.”

  I immediately dropped her hand and moved it to the center padding between us. She could analyze every move I made and every word I spoke but she wouldn’t find the answer she was looking for. “I’m not a romantic guy. I don’t make love. I do those things just for the buttons. I do them so you’ll stay in my possession for as long as possible. Because I love hurting you—very much.”

  When that wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear, she turned her gaze back to the window. “I think you’re in denial.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Well, that’s my opinion. I’m sorry you disagree with it.”

  “And I’m sorry you choose to believe a fairytale over reality. I thought you were smarter than that. I thought you were stronger than that.” My voice carried my disappointment. I was initially attracted to her because of her simplified view of the world. She didn’t convince herself things were better than they really were to make herself feel better. She accepted the world as it was—cold and cruel. “You told me men are all the same. You told me you would never trust a man ever again. You told me you never wanted to have a husband and kids.”

  “I still stand by the statement. I never said I trusted you. I never said I wanted to marry you and have your children.” Her voice remained steady like she was telling the truth. “But I still care about you. And I think you care about me. That’s all I’m trying to say.” Her voice fell away when she was finished.

  I rested my arm on the armrest beneath the window and wished the time would pass. I wanted to be home so I could walk away from her—enjoy my solitude. This woman got under my skin in ways I didn’t like. She observed me when I wasn’t paying attention, and she made me think things that never would cross my mind. I didn’t like it. “What brought on this conversation?” We were fine yesterday before everything shifted.

  “You want me to hurt you.”

  “Your point?”

  “All day you were the man I paid for. And then when I tied you up he disappeared. And...” She shook her head. “Nevermind.”

  “Tell me.” I didn’t raise my voice but my authority rang in the air like a loud gong.

  “A part of me does want to hurt you.”

  I gripped the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white.

  “Not because I want to. But because I want to give you what you want. How could I possibly rationalize that kind of action? I’ve never had the urge to cause someone pain. But with you...I consider things I wouldn’t normally consider.”

  My spine shivered at the thought. “That doesn’t make you a bad person.”

  “But it makes me an insane person.”

  “So what? We’re all a little insane.”

  She turned her gaze back to the window, dismissing the conversation.

  “Button.”

  She refused to look at me.

  “There’s nothing—”

  “I’m not going to hurt you and you can’t change my mind.” She fought against herself because she thought she was doing the right thing. Despite what she endured she still fought for a respectable and truthful existence. She’d descended into the darkness but only as a visitor. Once she became a part of it, a resident, she would feel differently.

  And I would be ready when that time came.

  ***

  Button and I didn’t speak for the following two days. She took her meals in her room and rarely ventured outside of it. She didn’t lounge at the pool or take a walk through the vineyards like she normally would. Her presence was confined to the corner of the house, the smoke from her chimney the only sign of life.

  I didn’t pressure her because I needed my own space. Her previous words sunk into me like quicksand. She claimed I cared about her, and the more I considered it, the more I couldn’t deny it. I’d done things with her that I would never do with anyone else. If I were in this same predicament with another woman I wouldn’t cave. I’d let her keep her buttons then leave when she paid off her debt.

  But I was so desperate to keep her that I did whatever was necessary to make her stay.

  I did enjoy the things she asked me to do. I wouldn’t admit it to her because that would make everything complicated. When we lay together in the hammock I felt at peace. When I took her slowly on the bed I didn’t have to pretend she was chained up and crying in pain.

  But it didn’t mean anything.

  I was just comfortable with her.

  That was all.

  Like everything else, I pushed the thoughts from my mind and moved forward. I had more important things to concern myself with besides my beautiful slave.

  When I came home from work on the third day I was greeted by a visitor. Jasmine stood in front of the entryway wearing a gray dress with wedges. She wore a sunhat to keep the rays off her skin, and her hair was curled in open waves.

  What did she want?

  I left the car in the roundabout and approached her. Without greeting her, I stared coldly. She was my employee and anything work related could be discussed at the winery—not at my private home. Our sexual relationship was over so she had no business being here.

  “Hello to you too.” She laughed off my coldness.

  “Is there something I can help you with?”

  “What?” she said with a fake chuckle. “You aren’t going to invite me inside?”

  My manners kicked in but then they shut down an instant later. Button was shut away in her room but I didn’t want her to see Jasmine. She had a hissy fit when the waitress made a pass at me. What would she think if she saw a beautiful woman inside the house? “Let’s take a walk.”

  “A stroll through the vineyards would be nice.” She walked beside me, her teeth white and her smile dazzling. “I came by the other day but Lars said you were out.”

  Probably when I was at the coast. “Took a short vacation.” It was strange that Lars didn’t mention to me. But he probably didn’t want to sour my mood when I was already angry.

  “Hope you had a good time.”

  I inserted my hands into the pockets of my trousers. We crossed the lush yard and ventured into one of the rows that grew some of the finest grapes in all of Italy. “So, what brings you here?”

  “I just returned to Italy and I feel a little lost...being gone for months will do that to you.”

  I wasn’t her therapist so I didn’t
see why she was telling me this. “You’ll get back into the swing of things.” Italy was much slower than America. People took their time getting things done. From my limited stay in the States I knew everything was fast-paced with a deadline.

  “I missed you while I was away.” Her voice shook, self-conscious about what she said before she even finished saying it.

  As soon as she left I stopped thinking about her. In fact, I didn’t think about her once. Our relationship was strictly physical. She would come to my playroom and I would whip her until she cried. Then I fucked her like a madman. She was like all the others. She was in my company longer than most women, at least three months. But when she decided to leave I didn’t stop her. Our time came to an end. I let her go without a fight, understanding all relationship came to an end one way or another.

  She crossed her arms over her chest at my silence.

  I refused to say it back even to make her feel better. I wasn’t a liar. If I missed her I would have fucked her when she stepped into my office. But my body remained dormant because I was already satisfied with the woman who occupied my bed most nights.

  She stopped walking, peering up at me from underneath her hat. “Is there someone else?”

  There was never anyone else. It was always just me. I was alone in the world, completely and utterly. “Yes.” Monogamy wasn’t my specialty. Sometimes I had exclusive relationships with women who fulfilled my fantasies, but most of the time I went with the motions. Sometimes I paid call girls to take the most inhumane treatment before I fucked them. My heart was never invested and everything had a timer.

  Disappointment filled her eyes. “Is this serious?”

  “No.” She was just a slave. I would release her when she accumulated every single button. I didn’t owe her anything. I could fuck whomever I wanted. She was wrong to assume I had any special feelings toward her.

  Jasmine moved in closer to me, her hand moving to my arm.

  I let the touch linger because I didn’t want to be a monster. I didn’t want to reject her twice—coldly.

  “I miss you, master. I want you to be punished.”

  I loved that word. But when I heard it, I only thought of Button. She’d never said that to me and I had a feeling she never would. But just the thought of it happening made me hard. I wanted to conquer her so completely, the most powerful nemesis I’d ever encountered. My thoughts continued to swirl and Jasmine’s face disappeared.

  That’s when her lips pressed against mine. Delicate like a flower but full of undeniable longing. She breathed into me the instant we touched, her excitement piqued. Her arm wrapped around my neck as she deepened the kiss.

  It was hard to believe I’d ever kissed this woman before. My body didn’t light in a blaze and my heart didn’t skip a beat. My mind didn’t travel to dirty thoughts in my playroom. Like nothing happened at all, I didn’t feel a goddamn thing.

  She didn’t resemble Button in any way whatsoever.

  I pulled my mouth away, distinctly limp. “Jasmine, we’re done.” I didn’t let her down easy because I needed her to understand she would never walk into my playroom again.

  “But...no one makes me feel the way you do. No one can hurt me the way you do.” She gave into her true emotions and laid her cards down. The despair washed over her face, painful and ugly.

  “I’m sorry.” There was nothing more for me to say.

  “If this woman isn’t serious then why can’t we be together?”

  Her desperation was unattractive. Buttons was too proud to ever admit weakness. I loved that about her. “Because I don’t want you.” I was a cruel man and I didn’t feel bad for reminding Jasmine of that fact. I had no loyalty to Button but I couldn’t deny my craving. My cock was desperate for the slave living in my estate—and only her.

  Chapter Five

  Pearl

  I stared at him through my open window. Days had passed and I avoided him with outmost care. Our last conversation in the car didn’t end well. I didn’t like his responses. And I didn’t like the words that left my mouth either.

  But I missed him.

  Now I stared at him through my bedroom window, watching his powerful shoulders fill out his suit was masculinity. He walked with his hands in his pockets, owning the vineyards and everything beyond.

  A woman walked beside him. She wore a pretty dress with a hat. Her face wasn’t easily distinguished but I could tell she was beautiful. Perhaps she worked with him. Or maybe she was someone who tended to his fields during the harvest. I wasn’t sure.

  She stopped in her tracks and her hand moved to his arm.

  A bolt of jealousy washed through me but I quickly let it die. It was stupid to feel any attachment toward him, especially at such an innocent touch. I’d hugged Lars before. It would be absurd if Crow became jealous.

  And jealous wasn’t in my vocabulary. I was screwing a man so cold he couldn’t feel the fire when he stood right beside it. The instant his fingertips began to thaw he shut me out. He convinced himself the sensation never occurred to begin with.

  He may not be the best man in the world but he wasn’t the worst. He convinced himself he was evil but I had yet to see a hideous act. He whipped me and spanked me but that was consensual. He never did anything against my will.

  So where did his self-loathing come from?

  I continued to watch him tower over the woman, his dark hair perfectly styled with his five o’ clock shadow coming in. I missed his lips all over me. I hadn’t been satisfied in days and I was annoyed when he didn’t come for me. My mind may not be attached to him but my body certainly was.

  I wanted him between my legs.

  I wanted the leather to mark my skin with every snap. I wanted his palm to smack my ass when he fucked me from behind. I wanted his fingers to twist my nipples so hard I cried.

  I missed him more than I cared to admit. I was far too proud to make the first move. I was far too stubborn to be the first one to make the move. All I had to do was use my fingers to satisfy myself until he caved. Knowing his sexual appetite, he would surrender very soon.

  My eyes watched her move in and press a kiss against his mouth. It was soft and full of desperation. Her hand remained on his arm, touching him like it wasn’t her first time.

  Rage shot through me.

  Unbridled anger like I’d never known exploded inside me.

  I saw red.

  My blood boiled and murder was on my mind.

  Jealousy like I’ve never known swirled inside me and burned every nerve. I just convinced myself I didn’t feel anything for this man. He was just my captor, someone I’d grown fond of. But out of nowhere my body ignited in a terrible blaze. I was jealous—more jealous than I’ve been in my entire life.

  I told him I was his. He made love to me on my bed and I gave him what he wanted. The connection between us burned me alive and made me feel like I belonged somewhere. This place felt like home. It was vulnerable and terrifying. But I went to the place where he took me and let it happen. I allowed him to conquer me.

  And he was off with other women.

  I was pissed—to say the least.

  ***

  Hours later I was still pissed off. The passage of time hadn’t dulled my hatred. I wanted to slap him across the face and make his skin turn deep red. I wanted to kick him right in the nuts and watch him cower underneath me.

  My rage even terrified me.

  A few hours after dinner a knock sounded on my door.

  I eyed the doorknob, feeling my anger rise like heat in a cold room. If it were him I wouldn’t be able to hold my tongue. Profanities would fly out of my mouth quicker than air.

  He knocked again when I didn’t answer.

  If he were smart, he would just walk away.

  He cracked the door open and saw me sitting on the couch. He was in his sweatpants and t-shirt, the clothes he wore a few hours before bed. Judging the darkness in his eyes he wanted me. He gave into his desire and finally made the first mo
ve. Scotch was on his breath even though I couldn’t smell it. He had to drink in order to find the courage to face me.

  Coward.

  He slowly approached the couch then kneeled at my feet. He separated my knees then inserted his torso in between. His hands moved to my thighs, gently squeezing them before he looked me in the eye. “I miss you.” He pressed his forehead to mine and eyed my lips.

  “Really?” I couldn’t keep the derision out of my voice.

  He met my gaze when he noticed the ferocity.

  “You fuck some skank and then miss me?” I asked incredulously. “You’re such an ass.” I shoved him hard in the chest so he fell back onto the carpet.

  He fell with the momentum because he hadn’t expected the attack. He quickly sat up, not reacting or even seeming like he was in pain.

  “Get out of my room. Now.” I stormed to the door and threw it open. “Unless you want a hard kick in the nuts. And I know how much you like those.” I didn’t feel an ounce of fear for this man. I could go head-to-head with him and win.

  He finally rose to his feet, his powerful arms tensing by his sides. “I didn’t fuck some skank.”

  “Don’t lie to me.” That was more insulting than what he did with that slut. “Do whatever you want but don’t pull that shit on me.”

  “What the fuck is going on?” He slammed the door so our voices wouldn’t carry to the rest of the house. He grabbed me by the neck and threw me against the wall, pinning me down so I couldn’t move an inch.

  “Why don’t you tell me?” I tried to knee him but he blocked it.

  He slapped me hard across the face, catching me off guard. “Spit it out.”

  I recovered from the hit, hating myself for being aroused. “I saw you with your girlfriend outside.”

  His eyes shifted to the window before the turned back to me. Realization followed the blank look a moment later.

  “Yeah. You’ve been caught. Maybe next time you should shack up at a hotel.”

  “Shut up.” He threw me against the wall again.

  “No.” I kicked him in the shin.

  He pressed his entire body against me so I couldn’t move.

  “I told you I was yours.” The hatred left my voice just for a second, replaced by sorrow. I felt stupid for ever thinking I was the only woman in his life. I felt stupid for caring.