Epilogue

Desperate Escalation

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“A MY.” RESTING HIS BACK against his chair, Kyle exhaled with satisfaction. “That was incredible.”

“It was, sir.”

She settled back on her haunches, pulling the edges of her fluffy robe over her body. He’d suggested she wear it after their most recent sexual marathon. They had laid together for the longest time on the rug’s soft fibers first, a warm sense of contentment rising as he held her, but as her body had cooled, she’d been thankful for his foresight and gladly accepted the robe. It amused and moved her that he’d taken the time to bring the clothing he’d lent her down to his study in the first place.

Kyle had done that for her . He’d been thinking about her, caring about her wellbeing.

What did that mean?

She shivered at the prospect.

“Thank you.”

He smiled down at her, gesturing to the seat on the other side of the rug. “You’re welcome to use the chair, little girl.”

“I prefer it here, sir.” She snuggled closer to his shin. There was a comfort in being close to his body, a solace she hadn’t expected when he’d ordered her to kneel. She felt safe at his side. “I want to be here with you.”

To be close to you.

She held that line back, although, in truth, they couldn’t get much fucking closer than they’d been in the last day or two.

“I want that, too.” His hand moved to ruffle her hair. “But I want you to be comfortable.”

“I am.” She meant it. Nuzzling against his hard lines in the warmth of his robe, with his fire crackling away happily across the room, she’d rarely felt more gratified.

“So, tell me. How’s the trial working out for you now?” His tone was sardonic, as though he precisely knew how it was working out.

“It’s a lot, sir.” She lifted her gaze to meet his smiling eyes. “But I’m doing my best to meet your needs.”

“You’re doing brilliantly.” He paused. “You’re the best I’ve ever had.”

She wrapped her hand around his leg at his praise.

“And what about the bonuses?” His wry tone continued. “How are you finding those?”

“They’re unbelievable.” She breathed the words in a long rush of air. “I’d like more of those, please.

“You’ve got it.” His hand lowered to stroke her cheek, and reflexively, she leaned into his warm skin—the same palm that had aroused and consoled her.

“And our contract, sir?” A wave of anxiety gripped her belly suddenly, insisting she raise the murky matter that had driven her there in the first place—money. “Does that still stand?”

“Of course.” He sounded vaguely indignant at the idea he’d renege on their deal. “Why?”

She sighed. “It’s just that I need that money.” She’d made that abundantly clear.

“The fifty thousand?”

“Yes, sir.” All of it, actually, but the initial lump sum was going to dig her out of a big hole.

“For your son?”

“Among other things.” Her brows knitted. The night in the restaurant when she’d first told him about Jonah felt like a hundred years ago.

“My terms stand, little girl. If you make it to seven days, I’ll wire the fifty thousand to you.” There was a fire burning in his gaze, though she couldn’t decide if it was irritation or lust she saw there.

“Thank you.”

“I know how important the money is to you...” His jaw clenched. “But I think—I hope—there’s more going on here than only a financial transaction.”

“Of course.” She bloody hoped so, too.

“I’m not paying you for the sex, little girl. I’m enjoying being around you.”

Sitting by his calf, the oddest sensation washed over her, as though her entire life had been leading up to that moment.

“I want there to be more than only the money, sir.” She shifted awkwardly on her sore ass. She needed the money, no doubt about that, but she craved him, too. “But I don’t want to presume.”

“I think we’re past presumption, Amy,” he smirked, as if her admission was crazy.

“Yes.” She risked a smile as she met his eyes.

“I love having you here.” His fingers trailed into her hair and tightened in her long tresses. “That’s obvious, but—”

His words were halted by the jarring electronic tone coming from the pocket of her robe, his brows knitting as he glanced down to the source of the sound.

“Is that your phone?”

“Er, yes.” Her hand sought the device from the large pocket of the robe as his hand relaxed in her hair. “I’d forgotten I left it in there after the sauna.”

The truth was, ever since she’d arrived in Kyle’s world of dominance and submission, she’d not spent much time worrying about her phone, although he’d never forbade her from using the thing. She’d been too busy serving him, pleasing him, and riding his cock to spend time on social media, and by the time she got to her bed after dessert, she was weary with fatigue.

“Answer it.” He blew out a breath again. “When you’re done, we’ll finish talking, and I’ll have another brandy.”

“No problem, sir.”

His second brandy meant that she would be expected to serve him... a fact she still found bizarrely intoxicating.

“I’ll be quick.”

Fishing the phone from her pocket, her focus scanned the screen.

Fairfield Correctional Facility.

Seth was calling? Her heart skipped a beat. Why was Seth calling?

While they had a decent relationship and spoke on the phone sometimes, conversations had been strained since his transfer to the new jail. It was closer to home than the previous one, but he always seemed reticent for her to visit. Amy hadn’t yet gotten to the bottom of why that was.

Instinctively, tension furled in her tummy.

Something must be wrong.

“It’s my son.” A crease appeared in her brow, and before Kyle had time to respond, she accepted the call and agreed to pay the charges as she held the device by her ear. “Seth?”

“Mum.”

She swallowed, and intuitively, she knew—she just knew —that her gut feeling had been right.

“Seth, what’s wrong?”

She turned her face away from the man in the chair beside her, the world outside of her place on the rug fading away around her. She hadn’t understood many of Seth’s choices, but one thing remained unshakeable—while there was still breath in her body, she’d do whatever she could to be there for him, to protect him. He was still her son.

“It’s not Seth, Mum.”

The remaining pieces of her sanity slipped away as her brain rushed to conclude what that meant.

“Jonah?” She forced out the word. “Is that you? Why are you calling from Fairfield?”

“I’m being held here.” Jonah’s voice broke with emotion.

“What?” She rose to her knees, unable to suppress the urgency whipping around her system. “What the hell happened?”

“They’re holding me here until my court date.” Jonah was sobbing, the sound of his woe tearing through her sense of repletion.

“Court date?” She closed her eyes, wishing that she’d moved to take the call outside of Kyle’s study. What she wanted right then was for her and her son to have privacy, but as it was, Kyle was right there beside her. He could hear every word. “What happened?”

“I needed more money.” Jonah heaved in a breath. “And I know you don’t have it, Mum. You’ve done too much for me already.”

“For what, Jonah?” Confusion pounded in her head. If he needed cash, he came to her. He knew that. Both of her sons knew that. She’d struggled, but she made it work. She’d always made it work. “Why did you need the money?”

“For drugs.” His voice wavered.

“What?” She shook her head as she gazed into the fire.

“I started taking speed, Mum,” he explained. “To keep up with the coursework, the exams, and the two jobs I’m holding down, but I ran out of cash to pay for it.”

Suddenly, it all made grim sense. Jonah must have been under so much pressure, he’d resorted to amphetamine to keep going, and in her experience, drugs usually meant trouble.

“I stole a wad of cash from the shop where I worked to pay my dealer, and I got caught.” He sniffed. “My boss called the cops, who hauled my ass to the police station.”

“When?” she demanded. “When did this happen?”

He was talking in the past tense, and she knew he wasn’t calling from the police station. The concept that he’d been arrested and taken to jail while she’d been enjoying herself with Kyle appalled her.

What have I done?

Guilt resounded in her chest; the question of whether it was warranted or not was irrelevant.

“The day before yesterday.”

She’d never heard Jonah sound so low.

“I know I have no right to ask, but...” Jonah hesitated.

“You need me to bail you out.” She squeezed her eyes closed at the realization, the oxygen in the room thinning as though a large hand had closed around her throat.

More money .

Everything always came down to the same grubby equation.

“Yes.” Jonah sighed. “If you can.”

“When are you in court?” Her mind whirled, trying to recall what day it was and how far away she was from the local courthouse.

“Eleven o’clock tomorrow.” He sounded hopeful. “Do you think you can help?”

Amy’s gaze darted reflexively to the one person—the only person—she knew could help them. Kyle’s eyes conveyed concern for her call but revealed little more about his intent to provide yet another cash injection into her life.

She couldn’t say she blamed him.

Having her totter around his house and satiating his whims was one thing, but handing out huge sums of cash for her children was quite another. She couldn’t ask that of him, but then... what other choice did she have?

“Don’t worry, Jay-Jay.” She tried to sound upbeat, but deep down, the truth was suffocating.

Even if Kyle consented to loan or give her more cash, only he knew what it would cost her, and while she’d ultimately enjoyed his demands so far, taking more from him would up the ante considerably. It would mean she owed him in a far more fundamental way than their original contract implied.

She’d be obliged to serve the man.

“Mum?” Jonah sounded rattled. “I don’t have long. Can you help?”

Pulling in a deep breath, her gaze settled on Kyle’s handsome face, and all she could do was be honest with her son.

“Jonah.” She wished that she could reach out and hold him, hug him, and tell him that everything was going to be okay, but she couldn’t. Not until she’d thrown herself at Kyle’s mercy, and maybe not even then. “Hang in there, Jay-Jay. I’ll do everything I can.”

The End