by Shayla Black
“Ms. Reid, how are you this evening?
She was sure she looked like a drowned cat, but she forced a smile.
“Fine. Thanks,” Lily said through tight lips.
“Glad to hear it.” Dr. Grant extended his hand, gesturing that Lily should sit.
She hesitated. Part of her wanted to sit while the rest of her couldn’t see the point. What were they going to talk about? Or rather, what was she going to talk about?
“I think it’s time to admit this isn’t working,” she said, but she took the seat anyway. She would wrap things up with Grant and go back to spending Tuesdays streaming American television on the couch.
The doctor steepled his fingers. “Have you tried any of the exercises we discussed?”
Lily remembered the painful evening she’d spent going to the pubs with her office mate, Caroline. She nodded. “It was terrible.”
“It was a step forward,” Dr. Grant said in a measured tone. “Perhaps you need to make another one. What about your romantic life? You mentioned not having a boyfriend, but have you seen anyone since you came to London?
She shook her head.
“No one?” He sounded surprised.
“Nope.”
“Then, I take it your sex life has suffered?” Grant stared at her over the rim of his glasses.
A hollow laugh escaped her lips before she could swallow it back. “What sex life?”
“You sound disappointed when you say that,” he noted. Grant had a habit of punctuating conversations like that, as though he was sticking a pin in it to come back to later.
“I find most men…disappointing.” She used his word because it summed up how she felt. Men had flirted with her but there’d been no spark—no magnetic pull. There had been no magic.
“Why do you think that is?” he asked.
Lily swallowed back a groan. Here it was: the moment when she’d have to admit the truth.
She’d even jilled off, as the Brits said, in a public restroom earlier this week after a handsome man brushed past her at the store. “I have urges.”
Lily spoke slowly. Sex had come up before with Dr. Grant, but in a very clinical way. They’d never gotten around to discussing the particulars.
“Whatever you say stays in this room,” the doctor promised her.
Lily blushed as she continued, but even sharing her dirty secrets with the doctor aroused her. By the time she’d recounted touching herself in the toilet, she could feel the steady tick of her engorged clit.
“Do you fantasize about being caught?” Dr. Grant asked. He’d managed to maintain his distant professionalism throughout Lily’s confession. Of course, he probably listened to dozens of fantasies a day.
“Not so much being caught.” Lily hesitated. “Mostly I want to feel free.”
“And you think sex can do that for you?”
“Maybe.” It certainly couldn’t hurt.
“And the books?” he asked.
She’d regretted telling him about her reading habit since their first meeting. Somehow he always brought it back to that. She had no idea why he was so interested in what she read.
“A few this week,” she hedged.
“About?”
“The usual.” She smiled ruefully before giving in. “I’ve been on a billionaire kick.”
“Is it the money that excites you?” He made a note.
She shook her head. “Not that exactly. It’s the power.”
“Over business? People?”
“I like the idea of a man taking control of me,” she admitted with a whisper. “I want a man who gives me exactly what I want even when I don’t know what that is.”
“In the bedroom?” he clarified, making another note.
“Yes and…” She thought of the spanking scene that had sent her fingers surging down her panties.
“And?”
“Ropes and whips and things.” Her cheeks were on fire now. She’d never admitted any of this to anyone.
“Have you considered a dating app or a private club? Somewhere where you can meet other adults? There are clubs where you can experience those things.”
She shook her head. Somehow the thought of advertising her desperation made it all worse. She’d never have the courage to go somewhere like that alone.
“Consider it. Sometimes exploring these desires can open new opportunities.” Grant’s words were clinical. Removed. It helped to calm the ragged ache between Lily’s legs.
“I will.” She stood and retrieved her bag from the floor. “I should be going.”
It was an excuse. She wanted to leave. She didn’t want to hear possible solutions. She’d accepted her fate. She would go home and slip into pajama pants, eat too much chocolate, and get herself off with the help of a romance novel.
“Please call and schedule another appointment. I think there’s more to discuss.”
“I will.” Another promise she wouldn’t keep and they both knew it.
Lily excused herself and exited back into the evening fog. It surrounded her body, highlighting her loneliness.
Suddenly home felt like the last place she wanted to be, but the air was chilly and most of the shops and cafes were closed down already. Lily dragged her feet, trying to think of anywhere else she could go when a burst of giggles across the street caught her attention.
Lily turned toward the laughter. She might have written it off as a drunken couple larking about in the dark, except for the mask. Not like the kind you might see as a masquerade or during Mardi Gras celebrations. It was a slip of a mask, lacy and delicate, doing nothing to hide the woman’s striking features—her pert nose and full lips. The man wore no mask, but he was clad in a tuxedo. They must have come from a party of some sort.
Her breath hitched in her throat, but they didn’t see her. Lily stepped into the shadows of the building and watched the couple. The man’s hands travelled up the woman’s legs, pushing up her long coat as he did to reveal her naked ass. Lily knew she should look away, but she couldn’t bring herself to. Her own legs pressed together tightly, encouraging the growing pulse of her clit. The man pressed the woman to the wall, reaching between her legs and spreading her open with one hand as his other hand freed his cock.
“We shouldn’t do this out here,” the woman murmured, but before she could object again, the man plunged inside of her. She stopped speaking except to encourage him with little moans and commands. “Fuck me. Yes, fuck me harder.”
He held open her legs as he stroked in and out of her, first slowly but then gaining in speed and force as the woman shook and pleaded for more.
Lily pressed her palm between her legs, wishing she had worn a skirt, but it didn’t matter. Even the slight pressure through her pants was enough to begin her own steady climb upward. Her muscles tensed and she squeezed her legs together against her hand, which was rubbing frantically back and forth. The woman’s head fell to the side and her eyes found Lily’s. Even in the darkness, Lily was certain the woman could see her touching herself as she watched the couple fuck. But it was too late, she couldn’t stop and she didn’t even as the woman stared at her with a smug look on her face. The woman’s mouth curved into a smile and Lily shattered into pieces as the waves of her orgasm hit her.
The two women’s eyes never broke contact.
When the couple finished, the man fastened his slacks and extended his arm. “Shall we?”
He was oblivious to Lily’s presence and the masked woman seemed uninterested in telling him.
“Let’s go to the library.” It seemed as though the woman emphasized the final words as though she wanted Lily to hear them. As though she wanted Lily to know where they were going. But Lily couldn’t fathom what pleasures a library could hold after that. “I want you to fuck me in the parlor.”
“Of course, darling.” He led her down the street, stopping in front of a red door. Someone answered it and the couple bowed to their host and then they disappeared inside so swiftly that Lily wondered i
f they’d been there at all.
She waited a few moments before she approached the door. It was only then that she saw the thin black letters painted on the door:
The Library
Private Collection
Monday: The Invitation
She found the card tucked inside the novel she’d left at her desk over the weekend. The book, a steamy romance that had left her feeling more alone than ever, had been abandoned purposefully. On Friday, she’d decided to live a life that more closely resembled the heroine’s, which meant leaving the book behind and hitting the pub with Caroline. She’d gone home with someone and Lily had gone home alone without even her book.
The men at the club had been too boring or too polite or too forceful or too cocky. It was all show—some type of strange, modern mating dance meant to lure someone into bed. Caroline had called the next morning to complain of the lackluster sex she’d endured and asked her to meet her at a new club that evening. Instead, Lily had spent the remainder of the weekend revisiting old favorites she kept at her flat. A book, as it turned out, was much more interesting than real life. Then Dr. Grant had made her feel lonelier than ever. She’d returned to the books, accepting that was what life had in store for her.
Until the invitation fell out of her novel Monday morning.
Lily had just grabbed the novel, her fingers skimming over the glossy pink title as she stuck it into her handbag, when a black envelope tumbled to the floor. She picked it up and turned it over. It was simply addressed private in silver ink.
She glanced around, suddenly feeling conspicuous in her cubicle. Sliding her chair closer to her desk for the utmost privacy, she slid a finger under the sealed flap. The envelope was heavy stock with a glossy onyx interior. Inside was an equally elegant card printed with the words Private Collection: The Library and a folded letter.
It was a mistake. There was no one who would deliver a private note to her in the office. It was an invitation of some sort meant for someone else. She almost felt guilty opening the letter, but when she did, her heart skittered when she saw her name at the top.
Dear Ms. Reid,
Your reading preferences have caught my notice over the last few months. I’d like to invite you to visit my private collection. I’m quite certain it will be to your taste. Please present the invitation for admittance. Come alone.
At the bottom it listed a date and address for tomorrow evening near Hyde Park—near Dr. Grant’s office. The red door floated to mind.
“Lily! Are you ready?” her office mate, Caroline, called over the cubicle wall, and she crushed the letter to her chest as Caroline’s head popped over. Her eyebrow quirked up as she took in Lily’s frozen posture. “You okay?”
“Yes,” Lily said too quickly, and Caroline’s brow arched higher. “I was reading.”
Caroline’s eyes rolled, but she bought the excuse. She’d caught Lily with her nose in a book far too many times not to. “Mr. Quinn is going to be here for this one.”
Normally, that might have been good news, given that their billionaire boss rarely made an appearance for office meetings. Never mind the fact that his arrival usually spelled bad news for someone on the team, it was a chance to be near him. Today, though, Lily already felt like her senses had been tuned to a fever pitch. She wasn’t sure she could handle his presence as well. Carefully, she tucked the letter and invitation inside the book, then she grabbed her handbag and a notebook.
Caroline prattled on and on about the boss under her breath as they wound their way to the conference room. They both fell silent when they caught a glimpse of the head of their department, Maxwell, who looked positively green. Given that Mr. Quinn blew through the offices several times a week issuing orders and ultimatums, it was rarely a good sign when he appeared for a meeting. Since she and Caroline were the newest and least paid, Lily never worried about being the one to be let off. Today, though, she found herself jumping whenever a new party entered the room.
“What’s wrong?” Caroline hissed. “You’re not getting the boot.”
“I know.” Lily squirmed a little in her seat all the same. “But someone is.”
Caroline didn’t look nearly as concerned about this as she felt. Her friend arranged a pencil and a notepad on the desk in front of her. Grabbing her mobile, she checked her hair. As always, her dark hair hung in inky curtains over her shoulders, her pink lipstick was perfectly applied, and every bit of her was polished and pretty.
Lily ran a hand over her own blonde locks, wishing her hair behaved like Caroline’s or that she’d pinned it back. She’d forgotten there was a meeting this morning in her harried attempt to get out the door in her Monday morning fog and worn an old dress and flats. No one would notice her, which was probably wise given that it took people being noticed to get fired.
She thought of the card tucked in her handbag. That wasn’t true. Someone had noticed her. Lily’s eyes swept the room, half expecting to make eye contact with someone, but as they paused on the door, disappointment flooded through her. It had to have been someone in her office. Who else could have delivered that letter? It hadn’t come by post. She was so absorbed in her thoughts, she barely processed it when the door swung open and he stepped in.
Except that Lily was staring at him, her eyes still trained on the door. Brock Quinn met her gaze unblinking, his own dark and focused. There was a moment—a split second—of interest and the room stopped. Lily’s heart, which had been beating rapidly since she’d found the invitation, stuttered before resuming its frantic pace. She had never looked him in the eye before and she was certain he’d never even glanced her way, but now they were locked on one another for a moment? An eternity? It was long enough to chase away any thought but of him. Then he turned, his tongue darting over his lips, before he nodded to Maxwell. Lily swallowed, cowering into her chair, determined to stay out of sight.
The rest of the room got down to business immediately. No one seemed to have noticed her graceless ogling of the boss, except Caroline, of course.
“What was that?” she whispered.
Lily shrugged, not trusting herself to answer, and pretended to be interested in the meeting.
Midway through, the atmosphere in the room relaxed. Mr. Quinn wasn’t here to terminate anyone. That was clear. He always got that out of the way first. What wasn’t clear was why he’d come at all. The firm was making new investments in a variety of London markets. Their department was tasked with seeing environmental protections were met. Hardly the most important aspect of the deal. Given that was the entire focus of her team, it was odd to have him here reiterating that. Judging from the confused looks passing around the room, she wasn’t the only one who thought so.
Mr. Quinn seemed aware, too. “I realize that this is all very run-of-the-mill,” he said, “but given new Parliamentary referendums, your team plays a crucial role in…”
Her thoughts wandered away from the lame excuse and back to the invitation. Caroline elbowed her in the ribs and slid her notepad over. Lily frowned when she read what she’d written: You’re drooling.
Lily shot her a look, but she only grinned knowingly and feigned a sigh in the direction of Quinn. She wanted to tell her that she wasn’t thinking about him—that her mind was occupied with a salacious offer—but the letter had been explicit about it being a private invitation. It was easier to pretend Caroline had caught her, and it wasn’t as if redirecting her attention to the boss was hard work.
Brock Quinn had figured in a number of Lily’s fantasies since she’d started at his company. Broad-shouldered and dark-haired with a body that looked more fit to be a bodyguard than for being stuck in a boardroom, he’d never looked completely comfortable in tailored suits even if he wore them well.
Every woman responded to him. He ignored them all. She imagined his nights were filled with models and A-listers. But she didn’t mind when he came by once a month and gave her a glimpse of what a real man looked like: ruthless, powerful, primal. He owned t
his building, half this town, and everyone in this room—herself included. He could have her any way he wanted her—he didn’t even need to ask.
“Lily!” Caroline tapped her on the shoulder and she startled to find her standing over her. “Meeting’s over, love.”
She giggled as Lily blinked at this bit of news.
She’d missed it entirely. Not that it was really aimed at her. Like most of them smashed into cubicles, she was present to serve as proof of Quinn’s kingdom—a mere peasant before her lord. She wasn’t meant to speak or take notes. She was a warm body.
Caroline swiped her bag before Lily could stand to join her and whipped out the latest novel. She whistled as she read the title, “Bedding the Billionaire Businessman.” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper and Lily’s heart stopped. Had she spotted the letter tucked inside? Instead of pulling it out, Caroline giggled again. “Taking notes?”
“Give me that.” Lily reached for it but she held it away.
“How did the pub go after I left?” she asked, holding the book hostage. “I forgot to ask.”
Caroline hadn’t asked when she’d called because she knew exactly what had happened. Lily had finished her drink and gone home. Alone.
“Wonderful,” Lily said flatly. “I met a zillionaire and I’m eloping next week.”
“Congratulations,” a smooth baritone interrupted and Caroline dropped the book.
“Mr. Quinn,” she squeaked, her eyes rounding into saucers. Lily might have appreciated this moment if it didn’t come at her expense. “I should…”
Caroline abandoned her there with her dignity and her book on the floor. Before she could bend to retrieve either, he scooped the novel up. He didn’t give it back though. Instead, he studied the cover for a moment. If he opened it, he might find that letter. She could only imagine what he would think of it. She didn’t even know what to think about it.
“Interesting reading material,” he noted.
“I’m not eloping,” Lily blurted out, instantly feeling her cheeks heat.
His eyes flickered up and studied her for a moment, zeroing in on her blush. “Lovely.”