The Submission of Alistair Ingram (4 page)

Digging
through a chest of drawers, Betty pulled out an oversized gray t-shirt and
tossed it to him. “Here. This should fit you.”

“Thanks.”

She
watched as he shed his torn oxford and tossed it on the bed before slipping the
soft cotton t-shirt over his head. It fit him well, accentuating his strong
chest, broad shoulders and narrow waist. For an instant, Betty wished she’d
torn his pants just to see him take them off, too.

“You’re
cheeks are turning pink,” Alistair said, smirking. “I can’t think you haven’t
seen a thousand men without a shirt before, including me last night. Why the
blushing now?”

She
rubbed her cheeks. “I’m not on the clock.”

He
took a few steps toward her, curiosity filling his eyes. “And that makes a
difference?”

Betty
folded her arms. “Of course it does.”

Hesitantly,
Alistair reached out and brushed her braid back over her shoulder. “You’re a
conundrum to me, Black Betty.”

Black
Betty sounded odd out of the context of a working relationship. Did they have a
relationship outside of her job now? Why was he here? “Bethany,” she said.

He
blinked, eyes widening. “
Bethany?
Your name’s Bethany?
”

She
turned toward her chest of drawers and fiddled with a bottle of lotion standing
on top. “Something wrong with my name?”

Alistair
grasped her elbow and eased her back around to face him. “No. It’s a lovely
name. It just doesn’t fit the woman I met last night.”

“I’m
not the woman you met last night. Black Betty is a job.”

He
stared at her with probing eyes. She could see the unasked questions lingering
behind them. If she kept talking, he’d end up asking them and she didn’t want
to tell him any of her secrets. The past was the past, and it would stay buried
back in Miami with both of her ex-husbands.

Not
that either one of them were buried.

If
only…

“I
don’t think that’s completely true,” he said. “Is it?”

Bethany
pressed her lips together, then changed the subject. “Why did you come back
here?”

Alistair
rubbed his knuckles over his mouth. “I need you to help me cover this up.” He
held up a finger before she could protest. “My publicity team has a plan that
doesn’t involve anything but you corroborating the story if you’re asked.”

Her
name was already in the news as the lucky woman who Alistair Ingram cheated
with. She supposed anyway he could make himself look good in this situation
could only help her as well. “What’s the story?”

He
sat on her bed and leaned back on his hands. She wished he didn’t look so damn
good sitting there. She wished she didn’t want to straddle his lap.

“You’re
training me for a role.”

“A
role?” She didn’t quite get where this was headed.

“Yeah.
You know the movie they’re making out of that crazy popular book series,
Hues
of Black And Blue?
The plan is to say I’m interested in playing the lead
man and needed some instruction on being a Dom before auditioning for the part.
That’s where you come in.”

Bethany
scratched her forehead and sat beside him. “Why wouldn’t you have a male Dom?
And why here and not in L.A.? How does that explain last night?”

Alistair
turned toward her, hiking his knee up on the bed. “You and here because Dolls
& Doms is a safe, private place. As an actor, I wouldn’t be looking to live
the lifestyle, just learn about it for a role.” He shrugged. “Last night can be
explained because I was in town. Brad decided to throw me a party  here at the
private club where we’re members. You and I put on a show for the guys
displaying what I’ve been learning from you for the
Black and Blue
audition.”

Everything
he’d said made perfect sense. “Okay. I’ll corroborate your story. As far as
anyone knows, I’ve been instructing you. You better say we’ve been working
during the days when the club was closed because you’re not a frequent patron.
The other Doms and the Dolls might question our story.”

“No
problem. I’m sure my team can come up with some fake alibies, witnesses who’ll
say they’ve seen me coming here during the day.”  He held out his hand. “Do we
have a deal, Bethany?”

She
glanced back and forth between his eyes and his outstretched hand. It seemed
like a simple solution, but for some reason, Bethany felt like she was making a
deal with the devil.

Slowly,
she took his hand and shook it. “It’s a deal, Mr. Ingram.”

He
gave her a genuine smile. “Good. Thank you.”

He
was thanking her? When she was the reason he was in this mess to begin with?
The reason he was no longer engaged. “I hope your fiancé believes it, too, and
you can work things out with her.”

He
leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, chuckling. “We were set up
anyway. We were together because we co-stared in
Angels of Atlantis
that
premieres this month. A co-star love story always means a big jump in ticket
sales at the box office.”

“The
video I saw on T.V. from last night of her screaming and throwing her ring at
you didn’t look set up to me.” Bethany was getting the urge to use her whip on
him. The cocky Alistair was creeping back into his personality.

“She
might’ve developed feelings for me, but they weren’t reciprocated. I never
intended to marry her. Last night you did me a favor, Bethany.”

Fuming
with anger at the lackadaisical way he tossed poor Heather Winston’s feelings
aside, Bethany stood and grabbed her whip. “Call me Black Betty.”

A
Voice From The Past

Alistair
couldn’t stop laughing. Sitting on Bethany’s bed—he’d never think of her as
Black Betty again—with her holding that damn whip had him breaking out into
hysterics. “Seriously?” he asked, wheezing for breath. “I’m supposed to be
afraid of you? I already took that thing from you once. Don’t make me do it
again.”

He
had to admit though, the wild look in her eye did make him wonder if she was
actually going to use the whip on him. “You’ll leave marks,” he warned. “You’re
not allowed to leave marks.”

“I’m
not working,” she said, and cracked the whip on the bed beside him. “The rules
don’t apply.”

With
her blonde hair back in a braid, a few pieces hanging loose around her face,
her black sundress, alarming blue eyes and bright red nails wrapped around the
handle of her whip, Alistair thought she looked like a killer angel—heavenly
but lethal. He’d never wanted someone he was so afraid of before.

Worse,
he wasn’t sure if he was more afraid of Bethany or of himself. He imagined
doing things to her body he’d never dreamed of before. Like that wax she’d
dripped on him. His mouth salivated thinking about how hard her nipples would
pucker if he drizzled that hot wax on them. She’d done it before, he had no
doubt. Inside that crazy head of hers was a world he’d never stepped foot in. A
world of pain and unimaginable pleasure.

He
wanted in.

“What?”
she asked, letting her arm fall with the whip. “Why are you looking at me like
that?”

Alistair
blinked a few times, clearing the lusty haze from his head. “Like what?”

She
folded her arms and angled her body away from him. “Like you want to fuck me or
kill me, but I’m not sure which.”

“I’m
not sure either,” he said, “but I’m leaning toward the first.”

She
shook her head, adamantly, “I don’t do that. That’s not what I get paid for.”

For
someone with enough confidence to be a Dom, she sure shrank under his gaze
easily. “Good thing I wasn’t going to pay for it then.” He leaned back on his
hands, knowing her eyes would be drawn to his shoulders and chest, then follow
the lines of his abs down to his lap.

“You’re
pretty cocky,” she snapped, but her eyes roamed the path he knew they’d take.

When
her gaze found his eyes again, he smiled and looked down at the bulge in his
pants. “I am pretty cocky. You’ll find out just how cocky I am soon, Bethany.”

Her
frigid expression melted and heated, making his pulse jump. She narrowed her
eyes and came toward him, like a cat on the prowl.

He
instantly felt like prey and fought the urge to crawl back on the bed and cower
against the wall. He swallowed hard, and she laughed.

“What’s
wrong, Mr. Ingram? Change your mind so quickly?” She stood in front of him,
hiked up her already obscenely short sundress, and climbed on his lap.

She
smelled of clean lotion and something very faint like cinnamon. Knowing she was
trying to call his bluff, he ran his hands up her back and pulled her closer,
inhaling her sent. It made his head spin.

Bethany
froze against him. She seemed unsure of her next move. “It doesn’t have to be
today,” he whispered. “But I will have you.”

“Only
if I let you,” she whispered back. Her hands began to trace his shoulder
blades.

“You’ll
let me.” He caressed her hips and ran his nose up and down her long, silky
neck.

“You’ll
have to work for it,” she said, pushing against his chest and climbing off,
leaving him cold and missing her pert, round ass filling his lap.

He
watched her stride to the door. “What kind of work do you require?”

She
grasped the door knob and opened the door. “That’s for you to figure out. Our
time’s up, Mr. Ingram.”

“I
thought you weren’t on the clock.”

“That
doesn’t mean I don’t know when it’s time for you to leave.” She crooked her
finger, beckoning him again.

“Fine,”
he said, standing. “But I’m nowhere near done with you.”

“The
only thing you should be worried about is saving your reputation.”

He
stopped beside her before walking out the door. “And yours.”

She
shrugged and dropped her eyes to her feet. “Nobody knows who I am. Even if they
do, my reputation wasn’t all that golden to begin with.”

How
could she shift from alpha female from Hell to soft, vulnerable and broken so
fast? He lifted her chin with a finger. “We’re going to change that.”

A
phone rang, the ringtone singing about
Master and Servant
.
Bethany stumbled back against the door, her eyes huge staring at the phone like
it had just burst into flames.

“What’s
wrong?” he asked. “Whose ringtone is that?”

Her
fingers pulled at the top of her sundress, like she couldn’t get it up high
enough over her breasts.

“Bethany?
Who’s on the phone that you’re afraid of?” He couldn’t help himself, he had to
reach out and stroke her arm, try to calm her.

She
jerked away from his touch, like he’d shocked her. “It’s my ex-husband,” she
said. Her voice sounded remarkably young and unsure, not the woman who’d been
on his lap moments ago.

“Why
are you afraid of him?” He stroked her arm again. This time she let him. “I’m
guessing he hurt you?”

She
shook her head but only slightly. “He didn’t mean to.”

He
exhaled sharply. “They never mean to, do they? Was he into all this…” he
gestured around the room to her whips, straps, canes, and God only knew what
else was hidden away in her drawers.

“Yes.”
Her eyes flickered to his, then back to the phone.

“I
thought
this
was supposed to be safe? Consensual?”

She
ran her fingers over her throat. “I was his property. I belonged to him. He did
what he wanted to me.”

Rage
bloomed and combusted inside Alistair. He slammed his hand against the door.
“No. I don’t care what kind of fucked up kink you’re into. You don’t hurt a
woman.”

Bethany’s
entire body shook with fear. “Not even if I begged him for it?” she whispered.

“You…”
There were no words for the utter shock and confusion he felt. He took her in
his arms and held her tight. “I don’t understand your past or what you’re into
here, but you never have to be afraid of me. Do you understand?”

Her
head bobbed in a nod against his chest. Somehow he knew it would take a lot of
convincing to really make her understand.

The
phone had stopped ringing, but he wanted to grab it off the dresser and call
the bastard back. He wanted to meet him in a dark parking lot and beat the holy
shit out of him for putting such fear into the woman in his arms.

“Don’t
worry,” he whispered against her soft hair, “I’ll take care of everything.”

Once
Lost Found Again