Surviving the Rich-Sunshine and Sir Ch. 08

Killian, Billy, Sir

Billy who?

Rae felt the tension roll through Killian and then he turned, while almost imperceptibly pulling her behind him. Giving her hand a reassuring squeeze, he let go, facing the man. High noon popped into her head, with his shoulders back and hands at his sides all he needed was a holster, a pistol, and a cowboy hat.

"I'm finished for the day," Killian said, his voice soft yet authoritative. "If you want to speak with me make an appointment."

The man barked a laugh, and said, "As if I haven't tried for the past two months. I can't even make it to the top floor. Security has been polite but firm."

"Without an appointment there's no reason to come to the top floor."

Rae knew that wasn't true, security hadn't even blinked when she walked past them that first time. So Killian had specifically told them to keep him out. She glanced surreptitiously at the camera in the corner, wondering if they were witnessing the ambush.

Running a hand through his scraggly hair that was more grey than brown, he stepped closer to Killian, the dark circles under his eyes making them look slightly unhinged. "You have no appointments available, at least not for me. But then, you went to great lengths to mask your involvement didn't you? According to our attorney the paper trail was almost a work of art. When it led to Killian Laird, he dug, but there was nothing that connected you to us, and certainly not to Billy Harris. I'm assuming you took care of that yourself. After all, you're Killian Laird! Lawyer to the wretched refuse polluting our country with sin!"

"Go home to your family Mark," Killian said, his body loose, but the predator coiled and ready to strike.

"You killed my parents."

Killian cocked his head slightly to the side and said, "Your mother had a stroke, and after a night of drinking your father flipped his car and ended up in a pond. You want someone to blame? Blame the almighty."

Mark looked at her his eyes burning. "Do you know who you work for?"

The fact that he knew she worked for Killian meant he'd been watching, and it chilled her to the bone. Killian shifted, almost shielding her completely from sight. "Do not terrorize her with wild accusations."

"Wild!" he barked. "You destroyed whole families!"

"You're confusing me with your father."

"My father was ten times the man you are!"

"Your father was a hypocrite using Jesus to further his own agenda. And honestly Mark, for a true believer your lack of faith is telling."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Mark growled.

Killian smiled and a chill ran down Rae's back. "This was God's will. So submit, forgive, and move forward in the light of the Lord."

Murder flashed through Mark's eyes but Killian didn't move. He faced the man without a hint of fear, hesitancy, or remorse.

"Why?" Mark whispered, his voice cracking. "Why did you do this to us?"

"I did nothing to you. The lawsuits brought against Calvary were filed by people who suffered as a result of the church and its policies. Policies which shamed victims and sheltered perpetrators, all in the name of God."

"Everything alright Mr. Laird?

Two security guards appeared and Rae breathed a silent sigh of relief. She let go of the pepper spray, which was always in her pocket, and stepped back.

"Everything is fine Walt," Killian said, his eyes never leaving Mark's. "Mark and I were catching up. If you'd be so kind as to help him to his vehicle."

"It would be our pleasure Mr. Laird. Sir, let's get you to your car."

Mark stared at Killian, his eyes roiling with a mass of emotions. "You will be held accountable Billy. No one escapes God's judgement. No one."

"Goodbye Mark."

All that moved were Killian's eyes, following the three men until they were out of sight. His stillness was unsettling against the sudden silence that surrounded them, thickening with every breath. He shifted, and the scratch of his shoe against the pavement was like a foghorn blasting through the garage. Killian held his hand out, his eyes unreadable. A part of her thought it would be best to call it a night and just go home. With the house to herself she could eat junk food and binge a couple shows she'd been itching to watch. It would definitely be best.

She placed her hand in his, and he grasped it firmly, lightly stroking her knuckles with his thumb. That electricity rolled up her arm and to the top of her head and then down to her heels. She couldn't suppress the pleasurable shudder that moved across her shoulders. The corner of Killian's mouth twitched and he led her to the car.

It was a quiet drive, no music, no conversation. Occasionally she caught his hands tighten around the steering wheel, and he was a little heavy with the gas pedal. But she didn't press. In her experience, it was better to let people get to the point of sharing on their own. When he pulled in front the restaurant to pick up dinner, he looked like he wanted to say something, struggling to find the right words. He kissed her instead and disappeared inside.

She'd read a few articles on the sudden destruction of the church after Bob told her about it, but there was nothing sudden about it. Their take down was too expertly planned for it to be sudden. Killian made sure that when he struck, the dominoes would fall too fast for them to mount enough of a defense or even be able to afford it. Billy Harris. Killian hadn't denied the name or feigned ignorance, which made the downfall of Calvary a story she was curious hear. It had to be about more than the church taking sides in a divorce for him to wage the war he did.

Killian got back in the car and pulled out of the parking lot without a word. Out of the corner of her eye she could see his jaw clenching and tightening. His carefully crafted narrative had been cracked open, and in front of her. Appearances matter, and to him any inkling of weakness or lack of control bruised his image. The king had been thrown off the hill by his own past, and he did not like it.

She looked out the window, taking in the houses as they drove deeper into the residential tranquility of wealth. Majestic trees, carefully crafted yards, with the glimpse of an occasional pool or tennis court or both made her remember her youthful vow to herself to be independent and wealthy. A powerful actor then director were her life goals, and it stung to think about how her twenties had completely gotten away from her, as well as her dreams.

Killian slowed and turned onto a long driveway, bushes lining both sides. The Tudor house at the end was massive and gorgeous, and seemed like an odd choice for him. She always pictured him a penthouse kind of guy. They pulled into a garage large enough for four, possibly five cars. She got out looking at the pristine walls, the tile floor that was warm underfoot, and the lights overhead completely blown away.

"This isn't a garage, it's a show room."

He gave her a small smile and walked into the house. She took one last look at the garage then followed. A short hall opened into a spacious kitchen with state of the art everything. The seafoam green paint and white trim were flawless, no nick or scratches that she could see, and the marble countertops shone. While the garage looked like a showroom, the kitchen looked like it was about to be photographed for a magazine spread, everything decorated with the right amount of masculine for a man of Killian's tastes.

He put the food on the counter, threw his coat over a chair, and walked over to a cabinet. "Would you prefer beer or wine?"

"Beer please," she replied, taking off her own coat.

He opened the door on the left, and took two beers out of a drawer. "Cold glass?"

"Sure."

He pulled glasses from another drawer and grabbed a bottle opener. "Are you hungry?"

She shook her head. "Not yet."

He handed her a beer and then poured himself one. "Excuse me for just a moment." He walked through an archway and around a corner. She heard him speaking quietly and walked over to the archway, beer in hand. When she peaked around the corner, she saw him standing in a dining room, his finger tapping the dark wood table. "Mark Weisman. I just want to make sure he flew home and isn't a threat to me or my employees...Yes, waiting in the garage...I honestly don't think he has it in him to take things further, but we both know grief can drive people to acts they would never commit otherwise...Thank you Evelyn."

He put the phone on the table then picked up his beer. Instead of coming back to the kitchen he walked over to a glass patio door and stared into the night. The outside lights gave everything a soft warm glow, and she could see a pool, furniture and even a fire pit. In the summer the door could be opened while people were dining. She wondered if he'd ever done that. The dining room looked like the kitchen, barely used. She took a sip of her beer and couldn't help but smile. Citrusy wheat. He remembered. She stepped into the room watching the tension roll through him. He knew she was there but didn't say anything.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather be alone?"

"Why do you insist on calling me sir?"

His voice was soft and low, and she shuddered. She was in trouble, and if the heat suddenly pulsing between her legs was any indication, her body was thrilled at the prospect. And yet, that anger roiling through him made her nervous.

"Answer me sunshine."

"Why do you insist on calling me sunshine?"

He took a sip of his beer and finally turned around, the hardness in his gaze softening. "You brighten my office every time you walk into it. When I've got you in my arms all the calls, clients, and day to day frustrations melt away. I don't measure my life in happy moments. I don't even like the words happy and happiness, they conjure the wrong ideas about life and lead to disappointment and resentment. But holding you brings me contentment and joy; it makes me happy. So calling you sunshine comes naturally, it feels right. But if you truly want me to stop, I will."

She was floored and stood there speechless, the glass of beer about to touch her lips frozen in front of her. All at once she was fighting tears and downed half her beer to hide it. To have a man see her in that light blew her away, and while it felt amazing, the pain it tapped into ran deep. She'd shed her need for intimacy, content to give her child every ounce of love in her heart. But Killian made her want; he made her need, and that was a slippery slope for them to be on.

He walked over to her and searched her eyes for a moment, then kissed her forehead. "Now answer my question."

"Mr. Laird was fine at the restaurant, but at the office you didn't like it any more than I liked sunshine, which I assumed you were calling me because you knew it got under my skin." He fought a smile and she said, "So you did!"

"I admit, I found the fire in your eyes that first time I dared to call you sunshine entertaining and..." His eyes drifted down and up her body. "Arousing. I love that fire." She blushed and looked at the ground, the intensity in his gaze after the sweet things he said throwing her into the unknown. He set down his glass and grasped her face with both hands. "There's that vulnerability. This strong fierce woman suddenly becomes shy and unsure, unable to look me in the eye. It's such a massive switch Rae, and I have to be honest, it brings out two equally intense urges within me."

He drew her lips to his, the kiss tender and slow and making every hair on her body stand on end. Looking into her eyes he said, "Protect and ravage. I want to protect you from the world, keep you safe." He wound a hand into her hair and pulled her head back until she was looking up at him. "And then tear the clothes from your body and ravage every inch."

Heat started pulsing between her legs and he devoured her, barely letting her up for air, his grip on her hair tightening with every swirl and dive of his tongue. When he eased up and looked at her, his eyes were on fire, like he'd consumed hers and made it his own.

"Now sunshine, finish explaining your reasons for not calling me Killian."

She was definitely in trouble. No matter her answer, he was going to teach her a lesson. "I..." She swallowed hard and cleared her throat wondering what he was going to do to her. "Like I said, I knew you didn't like being called Mr. Laird, but it was the only weapon I had. The only way I could wipe the smirk off your face. Then you took over, making decisions about what products I use and what clothing I should wear. You gave me orders. So there was no way I was going to give you what you wanted and call you Killian."

He took a deep breath looking pleased, almost victorious. "I'll give you a choice sunshine. Secured to the table or the wall?" She didn't know what to say and he tsked under his breath. "Make the choice or I'll make it for you."

The underlying heat in his voice sent shockwaves rocketing through her body, but uncertainty and a touch of fear kept her tongue tied.

"You're afraid." She nodded and he said, "A little fear is natural, and when I've got you bent over the table or pressed to the wall I'll turn that fear into anticipation. You already love what I do to you. I promise, this will be no different."

"Tied up and under your complete control."

He smiled and planted soft kisses all over her neck. When he slid a hand down her arm and swirled his fingers around her inner elbow she moaned. Kissing his way to her ear, he said, "Sir implies complete control sunshine. Or do you not know how this works?"

Her breath caught in her throat and she wanted to kick herself for not realizing why he looked so pleased. He was Killian Laird, of course he'd twist every word to his advantage. "How what works?"

He smiled and said, "You already surrendered to me when you signed your name, freeing yourself."

"Freeing? I don't see how-"

He placed a finger on her lips and said, "Yes you do. You allowed yourself to give up control and embrace your sexually submissive nature. You enjoy being dominated, it arouses and fulfills you, enhancing your sexual experience in ways you never expected. This is the next step in that evolution Rae. So I'll ask one more time. Table or wall?"

She stared into his eyes, her desire overriding her fear. "Wall," she breathed.

He kissed her and said, "Good girl. Do not move."

He disappeared and she ran trembling hands down her waist and hips. Looking around the room she wondered which wall. It wasn't a room cluttered with excess furniture and there was little on the walls other than a few paintings and sconces. She grabbed her beer and downed the rest, then bent over to unzip her boot.

Killian tsked under his breath. "I told you not move sunshine. But you insist on being disobedient. For that, the boots stay on."

She froze and then slowly rose, her heart racing. "My hair clips? What are you going to do with those?"

He walked past her without replying and stopped in front of the patio door. "Come here."

She walked slowly across the room, her legs rubbery. He pulled his belt off and folded it, then smacked it against his palm. She jumped and he said, "When I tell you to do something you say yes sir."

He raised an eyebrow and smacked his palm again. It travelled down her spine, and she felt a rush of adrenaline, and anticipation. "Yes sir!"

"Good girl. Now take off your blouse and give it to me." She hesitated and the belt hit the table. "You are racking up punishments with every hesitation. Do as you're told."

The raw power in his voice made her quiver. He was right, she loved being dominated, by him. "Yes sir."

When she handed him the blouse he draped it over a chair. "Now your bra."

With trembling fingers she unsnapped the bra and handed it to him. Exposed, she fought every instinct to cover herself and failed.

The moment she crossed her arms over her chest he smacked the belt against the table. "You will not hide your body from me. Put your hands down."

"Yes sir," she breathed.

He placed the belt on the table and picked up a black harness looking thing with three loops. Standing over her, he slid her wrists into two, and stepped her back to the glass door. The fabric stretched as he raised her arms and placed the third loop over a brass hook. Five thick, solid hooks held a twisted red silk valance that draped across the top of doors and hung down each side. He stepped back, his eyes travelling over the tableau. "Such a beautiful sight," he said softly.

When he picked up her hair clips she opened her mouth to ask again what he planned on doing with them, but Killian said, "If you make a sound without permission you will be punished."

He grabbed a breast and brushed his thumb back and forth over the nipple until it was hard and erect. Sucking it into his mouth he swirled and sucked until she had a puddle in her torn and already soaking wet panties. She closed her eyes biting back the moan, and almost cried out when he bit her nipple. Letting it fall out of his mouth, he gave it a quick lick and moved to the other. "I love how sensitive your nipple are," he said. "It makes playing with them so much fun."

Grabbing a huge handful of her breast, making her nipple stick out, he snapped her hair clip on it. She jumped in his grasp, the pain shocking, yet strangely titillating. Killian didn't give her time to recover, he snapped the second clip on her other nipple. She gasped and threw her head back trying to swallow the yell as best she could, grateful the clips didn't have teeth. Kissing her neck, he unzipped her skirt and let it pool around her boots.

"Look at me sunshine."

She opened her eyes and he snapped a garter. He did it again, harder, and at the same moment flicked one of the clips. Pain and pleasure chased each other through her body, as he did it again and again, harder each time, the clips pinching and yanking her nipples. Suddenly he grabbed her jaw and crushed her lips to his, the erection in his pants poking her stomach. When he slipped his fingers between her hot, throbbing folds, she lost control and moaned into his mouth.

He released her and tsked, his eyes definitely victorious. "I warned you."

Grabbing her underwear he tore it completely, the sound of ripping fabric an aphrodisiac that made her feel giddy, almost drunk. The underwear fell to the floor in tatters, and Killian turned her around. Seeing herself reflected in the glass was a shock, arms taut overhead, her nipples being pulled by the clips. Then she saw Killian take his shirt off and pick up the belt. Her eyes were glued to the belt as he folded it, holding the buckle in his palm.

"Tell me sunshine, which lessons are you learning this evening?"

He caught her by surprise, and she opened her mouth trying to respond, but the hardness in his gaze, reflected clearly in the glass, short wired her brain. The king was going to reclaim his place on the mountain, through her. The belt landed across her ass and she yelped, her skin instantly hot.

"Answer me," he said, his voice low.

She just stared at his reflection and he whacked her ass harder, the sharp sting travelling up her back like a lightning strike.

"Answer."

"To..." She stumbled and he hit her six times in quick succession. She felt the sting of tears, but the lightning strikes were hitting her brain like a drug, and she couldn't believe it, but she wanted more.

He stepped up behind her and grabbed each of her throbbing cheeks, giving them a rough squeeze. "I'm going easy on you right now sunshine, but if you continue to play games your punishment will only get harsher." Leaning in he ran his tongue around her ear. "So please, by all means, keep playing games."

His hot breath teased her, and she raggedly whispered, "I'm not playing games."