I don’t remember the drive home. I don’t remember what his driver said to me or how I managed to get into my apartment. Nothing makes sense. I don’t know why it hurts. No, that’s a lie, I know exactly why it hurts. What did I expect? He’s still holding onto the pain from the past, and I didn’t give him what he wanted. He asked for the truth and I didn’t give it to him. Then again, he’s not my boyfriend. I showed too much emotion too soon. I know he doesn’t want that, he told me there’s no chance of a relationship. No romance. No hearts and flowers.

When I called in sick today, Lei knew something was wrong immediately. Even though I told her I’m fine, that it was the flu, she didn’t buy it. I guess that’s what makes us such good friends. It’s taken me years to get to this point, where he’s finally given in and taken me home, and then I fucked it up. I should never have said anything.

Shaking my head, I focus on anything other than the memories that seem to invade my mind. Memories of him and me. That’s all I have. I’m curled up on my bed. My body aches in delicious ways. My heart however, the agony in my chest is more than I can handle. I planned my attack, I knew I would get to him, but I didn’t plan on him getting to me first.

Rolling over, I check the time and notice it’s almost midday. I’ve been in a vegetative state since last night. When I walked into the apartment, emptiness settled over me and I cried. Tears fell for what I’d lost. Him. My pain kept me awake. I couldn’t sleep because every time I close my eyes, I dreamed.

When three in the morning finally glowed angrily from my nightstand clock, I closed my eyes and forced the tears to cease. Awake or asleep, he’s there. Both are as bad as each other, but none of them take me back in time, to last night, where I can swallow my words.

What made me ask him that? I know Elijah still loves his wife. It’s evident. I’m an idiot. Sighing, I close my eyes and picture his face. That smile, those eyes that look right through me. Everything about him is all I need. There are times I used to wonder if I’d imagined him. If perhaps he was a figment of my imagination. Being with him again is surreal.

The desire to go online and stalk him rattles through me like an alcoholic needing their next drink. My body trembles at the thought of logging onto his social media accounts to see who he’s talking to. If he’s flirting with another toy who doesn’t want his heart.

It’s been almost twelve hours. I’d have counted the minutes but my mind is blank. All I see is him. Pushing up, I shove off the blankets and head straight for the shower. I’ve never allowed anyone in before, not like Elijah Draydon. He’s broken me, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

As soon as I step into the shower, a plan formulates in my mind. It’s perfectly timed. As the idea settles, I smile. This time, I won’t lose him. He walked away once, but I will not let him do it again. Being away from him last night was eye opening. It allowed me the space I need to make sure I don’t fuck this up. I need to focus. I am in control.

I reaffirm this a few times while I scrub my skin clean from his scent. Soon, I’ll have his spicy cologne on me forever. I need to give him honesty. He wants that, and I’ll obey. I’ll be the best submissive he’s ever had, even better than Raquel. Watch out Daddy, your toy is coming and she’s going to make sure you’re hers by the end of this week.

Stepping into the offices of D&G Insurance two hours later, I find the desk where a receptionist should be sitting empty. “Hello. How can I—” The familiar deep rumble of Eli’s partner comes from the office to my left. When I turn, the recognition on his face is one of surprise, but the smirk he offers tells me so much more. “Oh, the pretty girl from the coffee store.”

“Hello, Sir,” I purr like a kitten, which earns me a grin so wide and so goddamn handsome, I’m tempted to jump him right here, just to make Eli jealous.

“It’s Oliver in the office,” he informs me, offering a hand in my direction. When I take it, he gives mine a squeeze with fire dancing in his eyes.

“Well, Oliver, I overheard you’re in need of a receptionist and I thought I’d come in for an interview.” Hoping my voice sounds nonchalant, I smile.

“We do need someone in the office, yes. Come into my office, let’s chat. Eli is in a meeting, but he’ll be out soon.”

I follow him into a cavernous room, furnished in dark wood and plush leather. “Is it a running theme between the two of you with the need for leather?” My question earns me a chuckle. Oliver turns to regard me. His eyes are like ice. Cold and gray. He’s handsome in every respect. Dressed in a light blue dress shirt and black suit which fits him perfectly. The older man, possibly in his late thirties or early forties, looks like the mature version of a poster boy for the company.

“Leather is such a versatile fabric. Wouldn’t you agree?” He gestures to the bright red chair opposite his desk.

“I do actually. The…” I allow my words to taper off as I stroke the arm of the chair, “feel of it is exquisite on bare skin.” Lifting my gaze to meet his, I notice the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down with a swallow. I’m making him nervous and I wonder if it’s because he may want me and he’s nervous about Eli.

“Agreed, Ms…?”

“Ms. Bianchi,” I respond with a small smile.

He nods, settling on the edge of his desk closer to me. His arms cross in front of his chest, causing the material to tighten around his biceps. For an older man who’s got a smattering of salt and pepper to his hair, and soft crow’s feet at the edge of his eyes, there’s a sensuality about him. Control emanates from him. He’s commanding attention, and I gladly give it to him.

“Let’s talk work. Perhaps after, we can discuss the feel of leather on your creamy skin?” he murmurs seductively.

“Like fuck you will.” The growl from behind me is feral, causing me to jump in the chair. Even though I know I should stand, I don’t. He’s playing right into my hand and I can’t help smiling. Well, well, well… Aren’t you being an alpha male, Mr. Draydon?

Oliver rises to his full height as Eli stalks into the office. A stand-off between two virile men. Both into dark, seductive delights, both could offer me all I need, but there’s only one I want.

“Eli, nice to see you again.” I smile, looking up at him, my words breaking the pissing contest between the two friends.

“Giana, go to my office,” he bites out, his gaze never leaving Oliver’s. “Now!” His no nonsense tone tells me I’m in big trouble. Just like I planned.

Pushing up, I step closer to the man who prefers Sir. Leaning up, I whisper in his ear. “I’d like to see what you can do with leather some time.” With that, I turn and leave the two men to argue it out and step into Eli’s office. An effortless plan, executed perfectly, and he fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker. I settle into a plush leather seat opposite a desk that’s the complete opposite to Oliver’s. It’s decadent, beautiful, and it fits in the space perfectly.

It’s not long when the door flies open. I rise and turn to regard the man who looks like he’s about to emit lightning from his eyes and thunder from his mouth. “What the fuck are you thinking?”

Shrugging, I set my purse on his desk. “You said you wanted to offer me a job, I figured it would be better pay than the coffee shop and I can perhaps still continue my shifts at Sins.”

“You were flirting with Oliver,” he growls. “Do you think I’m stupid, Toy?”

“No, Daddy.” My words are seductive, and I don’t miss the desire written on his face. It’s both beautiful and sensual. I want him to punish me. I crave for him to show me that I’m his. I want this man to own me.

“Jesus, Giana. What are you doing to me?” He’s no longer angry. This time his words are anguished. His eyes, those beautiful golden orbs, gaze at me like I’m a prized possession.

“Just give me a job. You made it clear last night that we’re no longer… That I’m not what you want. I spent the morning thinking about it and I need a job.”

“You don’t need a fucking job,” he bites out while stalking toward me. There’s dangerous lust swirling between us. The office is stifling with it, but I don’t move. He reaches out and grips my hair, pushing me to my knees. “What you need is my dick in your throat.” Without hesitation, I reach for his zipper and tug it down. Once my hand makes contact with his thick shaft, a growl falls from his lips. I pull his erection out, stroking it before flicking my tongue over the tip. His taste is my fix. And I take another hit.

Sucking him into my mouth, I revel in making this man crumble. His hands grip my head and his hips take control. His body moves against my face as he fucks my mouth, my throat. The crown of his cock enters my throat roughly, causing me to gag, but I take it like a good girl. My eyes lift to his and I find him staring down at me as he uses me.

“That’s it, Toy. I want you. I fucking want you, Goddamnit.” His gruff words are entangled with his hips as they slam against me, his abs hitting my nose. “Swallow my dick. Take it all. Show me how much you want to love me. How you want to give me your heart.” His words both unsettle me and arouse me. With each command, he slams into my mouth, forcing himself into my throat, making me choke on his erection. “So fucking pretty when you cry.” And I do. Tears of elation fall from my eyes.

He thinks he’s in charge, but he’s so wrong. I’m the one with the power. I may be on my knees, but I’m the one who’s allowing him this pleasure. Suddenly, he pushes me off his cock. He steps back and crooks his finger, telling me with one small movement to stand and I do.

“Do you see me yet?” I question as I rise, wiping the saliva from my chin.

His cock still hard and ready for a good hard fucking. It juts out from between his thighs, making me lick my lips in anticipation. His glare is dark, devilish. “I’ve always known who you are sweet Giana, even though you’ve changed your name and your hair color. You’ll always be the only girl my cock needs.” A gasp falls from my lips when he smirks.

“You knew who I was when you saw me in the coffee shop,” my voice drops to a murmur and his eyes light up with guilt. “Tell me, Eli? Since our time at the hospital you recognized me even though I’d colored my hair, changed my name. You knew it was me and all this time you acted as if I was a new toy to you.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t recognize the only woman who can swallow me like that without throwing up? The only woman who made me come so hard I saw forever in her eyes?”

His questions still me, right to the very core of who I am. I’ve needed him for so long, but he’s always been away, unavailable. He’s pushed me away once, walking out of a room and leaving me with nightmares. I gave up on a forever when he left. I didn’t believe I was worth anything. But not this time.

“You knew it was me? Each time you walked into the coffee shop, every time you walked into Sins?” I ask with frustration heavily lacing my tone.

“Yes, I knew it was you. If I had come to you and confessed would you have taken me back right then and there? No.” His admission does something to me. My heart leaps into my throat, threatening to choke me with emotion. I don’t know if I should be happy or sad. Then he continues. “You hated me for walking out. I knew you did. At the time, you were a child.”

“A child? I was eighteen. Even when you took my body, when we first fucked you knew how I felt. I told you.” He’s right. I still hated him, but what he doesn’t know is, I loved him too. “I loved you,” I tell him honestly. The words scrape my throat raw with emotion. I shouldn’t tell him, but it’s time for honesty. If this is going to work between us, I need to give him everything.

“And I loved you,” he confesses then and I see it’s real. He’s not lying. He really did love me as well. I thought I was just a game to him, a distraction, but he did love me.

“You walked out and didn’t even give me a second thought. I was taken, bought and you didn’t care. Is that how you love someone? Allowing them to be abused by someone that should have been locked in an asylum?” I want to hurt him, to make him see what he’d done to me. How he’d broken me once, and now, I have a feeling he’s going to do it again. The only problem with loving someone so much is that you give them permission to hurt you. That’s why we’re so volatile. Dangerous and detrimental to each other.

“I didn’t have a choice, Giana. They would have known. If I walked into your room that day to say goodbye, you’d have been in worse trouble than you could ever imagine. Your uncle wasn’t the most understanding man. I was too old for you then, I still am. Only this time you’re a grown woman rather than a child.”

“I was eighteen!”

“I know. I just couldn’t do it anymore. There was no way I could’ve given you a forever. You loved me too much and I needed to put space between us. I figured, if I left, you’d find a good boy your age.”

“You still loved her, you still do.” My accusation doesn’t hurt him. It has agony spearing my chest. The heart that seems to only beat for him aches.

“I’ll always love her.” And there it is. My world shattered by four simple words. “But I love you too.” Snapping my gaze to his, I search for a lie. I look for something that tells me he’s only placating me, but there’s nothing there.

“I know.” My words are a whisper. His eyes shimmer with unbridled need. He yearns for me. His body is trembling and I know he’s restraining himself.

“Why did you change your name?”

“Riley Giana Bianchi is my full name. I just never told you. When I needed a new life, I took my second name,” I tell him, perching myself on the chair. My fingers tremble from nervous energy that skitters through me. I don’t want him to send me away, but I also don’t know what more we can do.

“Gia,” he murmurs my name in a gravelly tone causing me to lift my eyes once more. “There’s nothing more I want than to have you here. Near me all the time, but I need your absolute trust and honesty.” He implores me with such ferocity my heart stutters. The expression on his face is everything my heart needs and more. He does love me. As much as I love him. If I want to do this, I have to give him everything. I nod slowly, twisting my hands in my lap. I allow my eyes to drift up to his and then I do it. I give him the words I’ve been too afraid to say all this time.

“I’m still sick,” I confess because it’s the truth. He knows what happened to me. Well… most of it. When I was admitted, I sat in bed when the realization hit me that I’m an addict.

Not drugs or alcohol, but men.

Sex. I hungered for it. I needed the pain.

That’s why when I first met Eli at the tender age of seventeen, I let him touch me, kiss me. When I finally turned eighteen, I begged him to fuck me and make me cry and he did. It was like getting high every time he came to my room. The doctors’ thought he was my boyfriend. They didn’t care either way.

I meet his gaze, and tell him earnestly. “I’m still an addict. It’s still in my veins, Eli. How can you want someone so… broken? So fucked up.”

He shakes his head, stares at me for a long while, before pulling me into his arms. “You’re no sicker than I am,” he murmurs against my hair, planting a kiss so gentle yet so commanding. It says mine. “I took advantage of you.” My attempt at refusing his words is hindered by him holding my head against his chest. The beat of his heart thrums against my ear.

“I was taken advantage of long before you ever came along, Mr. Draydon. And when you left… It was my nightmare. I was in hell where you left me.” He steps back, hands on my shoulders as he watches me. His golden eyes spark with emotion. Anger. Fury. And I know it’s from my confession.

Resignation on his features tells me he’s about to request something I can’t comply with. He’s going to ask for the truth. I know he’ll want to know everything. Why I was in the hospital, what happened after he left. And most of all, he’s going to find out what a shattered toy I really am.

I want us to work. I need it. I don’t know if I can go through it again, to relive the memories, those vile images in my head that make me the way I am, but for him, I’ll try.

The images I’m about to relive make me need the dark, the pain that allows me, forces me to allow myself to recall what happened. It takes me to a place in my head where I’m safe. I meet those beautiful orbs that seem to look right through me. And then, as always, he doesn’t ask, he commands. “Tell me about it. I want to know everything.”