Chapter Sixteen

Aftermath

––––––––

S LEEP WAS FRUSTRATINGLY hard to find. In the darkness of Amy’s room, there was no solace for the innumerable memories that seemed to be crowding around her bed. She squeezed her eyes closed, frantically hoping she could push the image of Graham and her old life from her mind, but however hard she tried, she couldn’t exorcise the ghost of her late husband.

It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him since his passing. He’d haunted her for many nights after his death, coming to her with plaintive, regretful pleas about his end, but there was something different about him now, something in his eyes that spoke of his disappointment. Her breath caught with shame, the deep, foreboding sort that settled in her chest and threatened to suffocate her. Could it be true that the man she’d committed her life to was upset by her recent behavior? Was he ashamed of who she’d become without him?

“I’ve done my best, Gra.” Her brow furrowed as she tugged her covers closer. Amy couldn’t see him, but she knew he was there, lurking in the shadows of her room. “But it’s been so bloody hard since you’ve been gone. Even harder than when you were here, and...” Her voice lagged as she grappled for words. “Well, Kyle came along, and he offered me a way out.”

“A potential way out.”

She was sure she’d heard Graham’s voice from the corner of the room.

“Yes,” she accepted. “The solution he offers might not be guaranteed, but then what in life ever is?”

Hadn’t Graham’s sudden death proven that point for them both? There was only the present. Tomorrow was never a certainty.

“He has money, and he can help me, Jonas, and Seth.”

Graham would want that, wouldn’t he?

“And the sex?” Disenchantment resounded in his voice. “Why did you have to screw him, Amy? Why screw him like that ?”

She swallowed at the recrimination. She and Graham had never enjoyed the most thrilling sex life, so the idea of bondage while dressed as a maid would be, at best, shocking to a man like her late husband. At worst, he might have looked far less favorably on the act, but still, she stood by her choices. Kyle had contrived the situation, but she’d walked into it willingly, and in the end, she’d relished every debauched request he’d thrown her way.

“Because I wanted to.” The admission rang around the darkness. “The sex was magnificent.”

A shiver passed along her body as she recalled just how fucking good it had been.

“You dressed like a whore for him.”

She cringed inwardly at Graham’s description but refused to feel guilt for her dead husband. She was entitled to a life, and any loving man would want her to have pleasure in his absence.

“Why, Amy? Why?”

“I wanted it.” Her chin rose the way it had when Kyle had controlled her body. “I wanted to wear the damn outfit because it’s sexy, Gra.”

“And him.” Graham didn’t mention Kyle’s name. “Is he sexy?”

“He’s a lot of things.” An image of her boss appeared in her head. “But yes, he makes me feel things, Gra.”

Things you never made me feel.

She never spoke the final line, but she knew he’d heard her. Those things were possible when the entire conversation was playing out in her mind.

“Do you love him?” Graham’s voice was louder that time, hurt echoing as the resonance ricocheted.

“No!” Indignation erupted from her throat as she sat bolt upright in the bed. “Of course, I don’t! But you know who I do love? Our sons, Graham, and they need this money. Who else can help pay for Jonas’ education and the life Seth will need to start over after prison? Who else can pay for those things?”

She glanced away, lamenting the way she’d snapped, yet still coming to terms with her anger. How dare Graham judge her? He had no idea what it was like to be the one who was left with the kids and the debts. No idea about the long, lonely nights and the neverending feeling of suffocation as every possible hope of making ends meet closed ranks around him. Who was he to play arbitrator?

“I didn’t mean to leave you.”

She heard the sadness in his weary tone.

“I know.” Tears brimmed in her eyes. “I never wanted you to, Gra, but you did—you died—and I had to go on.”

I have to live.

And go on she would. Whatever that meant.

Silence reverberated as she leaned back against her pillows. Graham hadn’t really been there at all. She knew that. But despite his death, guilt still bubbled at her dalliance with Kyle.

“It doesn’t mean I didn’t love you.” She wanted Graham to know that. “I did, Gra. I loved you, and a part of me always will, but I had to move on. I have to live... for myself and the boys.” She raised her voice, hoping Graham would hear the plea, but logically, she knew that wasn’t possible.

He wasn’t there. He never had been.

Disturbed by the lack of satisfaction in the so-called conversation, she snuggled down, hoping slumber would come to claim her. At some point after two in the morning, long after Graham’s ghost had departed, it finally did.

***

T HE JARRING NOISE OF the alarm on her bedside counter ripped her from the deep sleep she’d eventually fallen into. Rolling to one side, she switched off the irritating sound and collapsed onto her back.

It couldn’t be six o’clock already, could it? A quick look at the flashing red digits confirmed that it was—time to get up, shower, and ready herself for whatever her mischievous boss had in mind.

Squeezing the muscles between her legs, she allowed her feet to find the carpet as she stretched. She could have done without the night of interrupted rest, but the morning light brought an exciting new day. Whatever Kyle wanted, she knew him well enough by then to know one thing—he’d be unrelenting in his orders, and whatever his demands, he’d make her feel it.

Heat rose from her core as she recalled the ways he’d made her feel it . The sting of his palm and the smooth thrust of his cock seemed indelibly branded in her memories. She remembered his expressions and his commands, the way all of his attention had been thrown on her, and the way he’d made her work for what had ended up being the most astonishing orgasm of her life. Perched on the edge of the bed, she recollected everything.

Her gaze landed instinctively on the witness to her depravity—the maid’s outfit hanging on the back of her bedroom door. Kyle had said it was her uniform—something he anticipated her wearing from then on. She suspected she should be disgusted and outraged at the assertion, yet all she sensed in her body was the simmering well of need he seemed to have awoken.

She wanted to wear it again—for him and for the enormous stack of money that was promised, but if she was honest, also for herself. She liked the decadent and naughty way the attire made her feel.

She wanted more of that feeling.

Her lips tugged into a smile as she stripped out of her tee and padded across to the en suite, the memories of Kyle encircling her as she stepped into the shower. He was with her as the steam rose, his strong palms holding her up when the heat became too great, and she dipped a hand between her legs to relieve the intolerable pressure. She swore it was his grasp at her nipples and the caress of his lips at her neck as the hedonism tore through her tired body, making her cry out. He was there, too, as she pressed her palm against the safety glass to catch her breath, and she murmured her thanks to him, hopeful he’d sense them from wherever he was in the house.

Wrapping what smelled like a clean bath sheet around her wet body, she walked back to the bedroom, musing on the life Kyle led. Amy couldn’t imagine living in a house that size, and despite his domineering ways, she could understand why he needed people to help him. What surprised her the most was the way the place always seemed so clean and tidy. Thus far, she’d seen no evidence of a cleaner, but all the shelves seemed dusted and the beds made. She couldn’t understand who had responsibility for the mammoth list of tasks, but somebody must have been in charge of doing them.

Maybe someone I’ve yet to meet?

She mused on the idea as she selected the fanciest underwear she owned. Once again, she opted to abandon the bra, knowing how sexy her breasts felt trapped beneath the silk prison. She donned her panties before warily opening the bedroom door and checking no one was around. Just as he’d promised, a small package was waiting on the carpet outside, and when she lowered to collect it, she found five pairs of beautiful black stockings with one accompanying suspender belt. She worked quickly, gliding the stockings over her legs before attaching them to the belt. Once she was happy with her undergarments, she donned her sexy uniform.

A spark of electricity raced through her as she swished around the room in the short-hemmed skirt. Kyle had previously denigrated her—making her feel awkward and uncomfortable at times—yet she’d never felt more alive than she had in those hours around the table with him.

Dragging her brush through her damp hair, she still didn’t understand how the contradiction was possible, but applying the inexpensive skincare she owned, she reasoned there’d be time to further process what was happening to her. Time to take stock and decide what the hell was happening when she yearned to surrender. At five to seven, though, that moment was not the time. She’d need to leave to make their breakfast meeting.

With one final glance at her reflection, she turned on her heel and made her way downstairs.

***

“G OOD MORNING.”

Kyle glanced up from his broadsheet as she entered the open doorway, the sound of her heels clicking on the hard floor ringing in her ears as she offered him a smile.

He looked just as devilishly handsome as she remembered, though he now wore a light gray suit with a matching waistcoat, and she noted, somewhat disappointedly, no tie.

“Good morning, Mr. Kyle.”

The nervous butterflies in her belly danced when the edges of his lips curled at her entrance. He watched as she closed the distance between them.

“How did you sleep?” He folded the paper and placed it down beside him.

“Honestly?” She drew her hands behind her back, the way they’d been when he’d bound them, although he hadn’t asked her to do so.

Standing there, she was struck by how much easier it was to wear the outfit for him compared to the night before. She no longer felt inhibited by its outrageous length or plunging neckline. Now, she wore those features like badges of honor she already knew turned him on. In the morning light, those attributes were empowering rather than degrading.

“Yes, honestly.” His brows knitted. “I hope you would always be honest with me, Amy.”

“I don’t want to upset you, sir.” She clutched the back of the chair she’d been sitting on at dinner for support, keeping her other hand behind her.

“Tell me.” The order was terse as he folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair. “Tell me honestly how you slept.”

“It took a long time to go to sleep.” She sighed, recalling how real Graham’s presence had been in the gloom of her room. “I had a lot on my mind.”

He tilted his head, as though assessing her. “You’ll tell me what was on your mind sometime soon.”

There was no trace of doubt in his statement, only the utter certainty that she would do as he’d commanded.

“Yes, sir.” Maybe she would, maybe she wouldn’t. She hadn’t decided, but one thing was for sure; she loved his self-assurance. Kyle managed to strike the perfect tone between awareness and arrogance, and every time he gave her an order, it resonated in her body.

“I am sorry you aren’t fully rested.” He reached for her nearest hand, tugging it from the small of her back and squeezing it gently. “You’re going to need your strength today.”

“I’ll get through, sir.” She was sure the money and sexual energy in the air would prop her up.

“Good girl.” He winked at her as he picked up his coffee cup. “You look tantalizing as ever.”

She flustered at the compliment, still uncertain how she felt about being referred to as a ‘girl.’ She was a grown woman with grown children, not a wide-eyed schoolgirl who was easily influenced by his flattering words. She certainly liked the smile on his face, though, and the way his blue eyes twinkled. She suspected she’d do whatever she could to enjoy those features more often.

“More coffee, sir?” She’d already spotted the jug in the middle of the table and was itching to serve him again.

“Yes.” He nodded. “Thank you. Fill my cup, then speak to Cook about breakfast. We can eat while we talk through today’s agenda.” He reached beneath the newspaper and selected a piece of A4 paper, which he placed on the mat in front of him. “We have a lot to get through, and I’ll be taking notes to ensure everything’s done to my satisfaction.”

“Your satisfaction is my top priority, sir.”

She grinned as she shifted to collect the jug, aware of her nipples straining for his touch. Whether she meant it or not, her throwaway comment was undeniably true. She liked it when he was happy. She liked the way he focused on her, his soothing voice, and the incredible pleasure. If that was what service bought her, it was worth more than only his money.

“Well, that’s good to hear.” He stroked the back of her silky dress as she leaned across him and refilled his coffee. “You did well yesterday, little girl. Are you looking for a bonus?”

She turned her head toward him as she straightened, realizing she was grateful for his lazy caress. “A bonus, sir?”

Just like the uniform and the title he’d asked her to use, she marveled at how she hadn’t even expected to sit down beside him. She’d only known him a few days, and already, he’d been able to condition her into the service mindset. She was there to serve him, and she’d sit when he permitted it.

The familiar surge of arousal bloomed at the idea. It was absurd to be so turned on by subservience, but there was no way she could pretend it wasn’t true.

“Yes. Keep this up, and you’ll deserve more than fifty grand.”

Her heart skipped at the suggestion. The money probably meant nothing to him, but he knew how much she needed it. She’d told him so. Sitting at Worthington’s, she’d felt the need to spill most of her life story to the guy.

“Well, thank you.”

She placed down the jug, uncomfortable with the correlation between her performance and the possible financial reward now that there was sex involved. He hadn’t said so, but she couldn’t shake the sense that he was offering the bonus because she’d done such a good job riding his cock, and however good the sex was, that didn’t seem right.

But I need the money. She tensed as she reached for the smaller jug of milk. Let’s not be stupid. I’m here for the money.

“Milk, sir?”

“No, thank you.” His palm rose to reinforce the point. “I like my caffeine as black as your pretty dress.” He smirked, eyeing her breasts, struggling to stay within the limited confines of the outfit.

Unsure what to say, she fought to control her labored breathing as he took a sip of his coffee. She welcomed his compliments—of course, she did. The money was essential for her family, but she was only fooling herself if she believed she wasn’t outrageously attracted to the man who possessed it. Reconciling the two was proving more difficult than she’d anticipated.

“You may go to the kitchen.” He gestured for her to move. “I’m sure you’re as hungry as I am.”

She nodded, attempting to look attractive as she walked away. If Kyle was going to suggest she wear heels every day, she’d need a bloody good foot massage at the end of the trial, but then, she supposed, fifty thousand would facilitate that much.

“Good morning, Leonard.” There was little embarrassment as she walked into the kitchen. She didn’t like the guy providing the meals, and he didn’t like her. So be it. For the time being, at least, they were stuck with each other. “Mr. Kyle is ready for his breakfast.”

“Is he now?” A red-faced Leonard glanced up from the counter where he’d been piling something on a plate. He eyed her attire, lingering too long on her neckline before he went on. “I was wondering when he’d call.”

“He asked me to serve his food.” She glanced down at what looked like poached eggs on avocado toast, and reflexively, her belly rumbled.

“Aye.” He grinned. “You certainly do it with more style than I can, lass.”

Was that an olive branch from the sour Scot?

“I just do as he asks.” She shrugged, wondering fleetingly if Leonard knew the extent to which that was true.

He could have been in the kitchen last night when she and Kyle had fucked. He could have heard them, or worse, snuck to the hallway and seen them? She held her breath at the disconcerting idea.

What must he think of me?

Oddly, his opinion of her seemed brighter than it had done last night. Maybe he wasn’t as perturbed by the sex as she’d thought, or perhaps he’d left once his duties were complete and hadn’t seen them. Standing there, she realized she didn’t even know if Leonard lived on-site the way she did.

“Aye.” He signaled to the plates of food. “We all do that in our own ways.”

“Yes.” Something about the glint in his gaze told her he did know what she and Kyle had been up to, but she pushed the thought away.

“Is breakfast ready?” She took a hesitant step toward the counter, keen to leave the perplexing man to his own devices.

“Aye.” His smile was too knowing for Amy’s liking. “I hope you enjoy.”

“Thank you.” Edging closer, she collected the plates, acknowledging how appetizing the meals looked. “I must admit, it is lovely to have someone else cook for me.”

“You’re welcome.” He threw the tea towel over his shoulder and chuckled as he walked away. “We all bring our own talents to Kyle’s life.”

She definitely didn’t like his insinuation, but her racing heart instructed her to let it go and get the hell out of the kitchen as soon as possible. She paused by the door to the dining room, steadying herself. Despite her best intentions, Kyle’s cook seemed determined to rattle her, but she couldn’t allow him to get to her.

One man getting under my skin is bad enough, but at least I want his attention.

Pushing the door open, she held her head high as she delivered what looked like a delicious and nutritious meal.

“Breakfast is served, sir.”

“Fabulous.” Sitting at the head of the table, Kyle clapped his hands together. “It never looked better.”