INDISPENSABLE: Part 3: A Billionaire Romance

  INDISPENSABLE

  Part Three

  MARYANN BARNETT

  Copyright © 2015

  Published by: Rascal Hearts

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

  For questions and comments about this book, please contact us at Info@RascalHearts.com

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  “Fuck.” Brock rubbed his cheek from her slap and anger blazed in his eyes. “Sarah…my being married, it’s not what you think.”

  “It never is with you, is it?” Sarah couldn’t believe he’d just told her he was married and didn’t intend to get a divorce. Why did she even listen to anything he said? It’d been one thing after another.

  She’d weathered him not listening to her safe word. She’d gotten through the fact that he’d been charged with sexual assault for the exact same thing years ago. She’d practically ignored the fact he had a teenage daughter who worked at his firm…and for what? To be proven her faith was misplaced?

  To be kicked in the guts again? Played for a fool? Brought undone by feelings that were more than friendship and needs that were more than just sexual? She needed a huge reality check and playing in this world of billionaires, pretending she could be one of them, it just wasn’t working for her. This called for a grand statement so Brock realized this was her life, and she wasn’t negotiating on the honesty thing.

  “I quit.”

  “You can’t just quit.”

  “I can. I absolutely can. You put me as head of your legal team whether I liked it or not, and I can leave it whether you like it or not.”

  “Sarah…you’re overreacting. Really, let me explain.”

  “I’m not overreacting. Why can’t you see why you are in the wrong here? Again.”

  “I am. I am in the wrong. It’s just not as bad as it looks on paper.” Brock paced the floor. “There’s a lot more to this story. Not one other person knows outside of Heather, her mother Jodie, and me. And Pierre.”

  “Pierre?”

  “We’ve known each other for a very long time.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Brock took a deep breath and stopped pacing. He stared at Sarah like he’d just realized he’d have to tell her the whole story. He frowned and hesitated. Didn’t he trust her with the whole story?

  “You know what? You don’t have to tell me. I’d appreciate knowing. Under the circumstances, where the word marriage and lifetime has come up before, you might’ve thought about letting me know. But what the hell. We only live once, right?”

  “I honestly didn’t think you’d…I’d…” He ran his hand through his hair. “I never imagined love would be involved.”

  “Look, Brock. The reason probably doesn’t even matter at this stage. But the simple fact that it’s taken you this long to tell me, well, that pretty much ensures we will not have any kind of personal relationship moving forward.” Sarah walked away from him. This was the right thing to do. Then, she turned back to Brock and said, “I’m making a choice with my head here. This can’t keep happening, and at the end of the day, it’s only happening because I’m letting it.” She took a breath. “Now, shoot.”

  “I didn’t want to hurt you, Sarah.”

  “I think it will help for you to talk about your past. It’s clearly a painful memory.”

  Brock came to sit on the sofa and patted the space beside him. Sarah chose an armchair slanting towards the sofa.

  “I was fifteen. We were both fifteen.” He shook his head. “We never thought it would happen that one time. I was angry with my stepfather for ending up in rehab, and I’d been beaten up after school nearly every day that week, and my nice clothes were stolen. Jodie and I stole some wine, and things just got way out of hand.”

  “I see.”

  Brock frowned. “Jodie lived on the other side of Aversham to me, and she was the only one from that time in my life who was nice to me. Ever.”

  Sarah watched the emotions cross over Brock’s face. A teenage moment gone wrong. She could see that. Brock drifted off into his thoughts for a second, and then he frowned and spoke again.

  “Jodie told her parents before she told me. Being devout Christians and always spouting about repenting sins and being forgiven, she thought they’d support her and applaud her honesty.” He gave a small, thin laugh. “It’s hard to remember being that idealistic.”

  His hands shook, as he reached for a glass of water from the coffee table. Sarah’s heart went out to him because she could see the pain and the anger still etched on his face, even all these years later.

  “That bastard beat her. He punched her in the stomach, several times, hoping to abort the baby. Her mother stepped in and smashed something over his head. Knocked him out cold. She called the ambulance and put her daughter in it and told her she’d best not come back home with a baby.”

  Brock stared at me and shook his head. “Can you believe it? Their fifteen-year-old daughter. Their grandchild. Absolute monsters.”

  Sarah’s stomach rolled around. How could anyone be so cold and cruel to their own child? “God, Brock. Poor Jodie. How’d you find her?”

  “We never had our own phones. She wasn’t at school the next day, a Friday. I asked all her friends, and they hadn’t seen her. I went to our usual weekend meeting place. She never showed. So, I found my way to her house. Walked for two hours.” He hung his head.

  “I didn’t knock on the door. I was too scared. But after three hours of seeing nothing, and it was getting on dark by then, her older brother, Ken, finally walked along the pavement. I asked him to give her a message from me. I thought he was going to take my head off. But Ken wasn’t the fighting type, lucky for me.”

  “What happened?”

  “He got a couple of punches off, and then I got the best of him. I was on top of him, on the ground, and he told me to check out the hospitals because Jodie was taken away last night with serious injuries.”

  “This is like a horror movie.”

  “Tell me about it. I ran a solid hour as fast as I could to the nearest hospital and asked for her. Yes, she was there. No, I couldn’t see her. So, I stayed in the waiting room and then begged a young nurse to at least let Jodie know I was there. For all I knew she wasn’t conscious. She took pity on me. I watched which room she went into, and I was going to sneak in when I heard Jodie screaming out my name. I went straight in.”

  “Didn’t they kick you out?”

  “I think they were worried Jodie might have a break down if they did. She was in a bad way. Swollen face, monitors and drips hooked up, but she was lucid. I went to her, and she sobbed her way through the story.”

  “God. Brock, were the police involved?”

  “They tried, but Jodie wouldn’t say who did it to her. I swore to her that day I’d never leave her and the baby—who’d miraculously survived. I never went back to school; I found a job the next day doing dishes.” Brock shook his head, as if he was right there again.

  “When Jodie was well enough, she went to a care fac
ility for pregnant teenagers who had nowhere to go. There, she could continue her studies until she was eighteen. It was no palace, but it bought us time.”

  “You were fifteen, Brock. Fifteen. It’s unbelievable.”

  “When Heather was born, I had enough money saved from two jobs for a deposit on a tiny rental apartment run by an elderly couple. It was a little run-down, but the heating worked fine, the water worked fine, and they had a pot of hot soup on every day. They loved Jodie and Heather.”

  He stood up now and walked across the room. There was no relief on his face. The pain was still there. “Anyway, the rest is history. We had a tiny wedding when we were old enough. I swore I’d always look after them. It was all so traumatic for Jodie, then the birth…Life really sucks sometimes.” He stared at me. “We’ve never been together sexually since that one time, but I’d give my life for those two.”

  “Sounds like you already have.” Sarah stood up and put her arms around Brock. “That is the saddest story I’ve ever heard.”

  “But look at Heather now. She’s amazing.” His smile went all the way to his eyes this time.

  “A good father can do that for a girl.”

  He smiled. “If I was half the parent Jodie is, then I’d be happy. She’s been so amazing. That woman never has a bad word to say about anyone, or the world. She’s beautiful inside and out.” He smiled wistfully before continuing his recount.

  “But it never took us long to see we weren’t a love match for each other. I wanted to marry her anyway because the child needed a solid identity. We needed to be a family unit in the best way we could. Then, whatever happened to me, I knew Jodie would be okay.”

  “You’re still idealistic.”

  “Slightly more bitter and twisted these days.” He pulled his wallet out and took out a photo. “This is when Heather turned one. I’ll never forget the feeling that I had…we’d gotten that far so everything would be okay. Our first professional family photo. I could finally afford a photo shoot.”

  I took the picture from his fingers and looked at it. I stared hard. I looked up at him and stared back at the photo, and my vision became blurred by tears.

  “Oh, Brock. No…”

  Chapter Two

  Brock watched the realization come over Sarah, as she stared at the photo. He wasn’t looking for pity, in fact, pity him was the worst thing she could do. He wasn’t looking for anything really, except to be understood. Sarah was important to him. Very much so.

  “What happened to Jodie? Was it the birth or later?”

  “It was an epidural gone wrong. Horribly wrong. Jodie lost all feeling to her legs.”

  “She raised Heather while she was in a wheelchair?” Sarah’s eyes were bright with unshed tears.

  “I knew right from the start that Jodie was special. But I could never have realized she would be my saving grace.”

  “I could just hit you for that story. It’s so sad, and yet, how can you be sad when you see someone so young and broken still have hope?”

  “Jodie never gave up. It was Heather. She knew she had to do it for the baby. I knew it too, and I worked so hard the next few years, I nearly ended up in hospital myself.”

  “Oh, Brock.” Sarah got up from her armchair and sat beside him. “Why didn’t you just tell me all this before?”

  He shrugged. “I’m so used to keeping those two a secret. Protecting them from the media, from my bad reputation…I don’t know really. But I should’ve. Hindsight is full of clarity.”

  “I understand we all have a past. Mine isn’t all that rosy, but at some stage we need to leave the past behind. We need to somehow distance from it enough to have a future. I can see your past is still valid for you, and along with it, your future is sewn up.” Sarah put her arm around his shoulder.

  “I’d love to have you in my future, Sarah. I just think you deserve more. You deserve to be loved fully.”

  “I agree, Brock. But what I said last night is true. Whether it be the high emotions of the time we’ve had together, or the irresistible sexual thing…maybe it’s just two broken birds trying to mend each other’s wings…I’m not sure, but I am in love with you.”

  Brock shook his head. Did he even believe in love? Could he believe in it?

  “I’m not expecting a declaration of love. I’m not expecting anything because, quite frankly, I don’t trust what I’m feeling. It’s been heady for us, a whirlwind. The emotions are either soaring high or plunging so low. I feel my heart crack each time. I can’t just accept this love. I have to challenge it.”

  “I understand.” Brock did understand, but it hurt. He hadn’t wanted pity for himself, or for Jodie and Heather. What had he wanted? He felt the truth was out, and he had no more secrets from Sarah. He turned to look at her. Those lovely eyes holding him captive as always, Brock smiled. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For caring enough to want to make love to me. For forcing me out of my comfort zone.”

  “Was it as good as your control factor?”

  “Maybe, but in a different way. I’m still a Dom, but I’m not looking for a slave, Sarah.”

  “You aren’t?”

  He shook his head. “Understand that being a submissive and being a slave can be quite different.”

  Sarah frowned. “How?”

  “When you give yourself as a slave, you give up your choices. You agree to have the person take over everything for you. What you eat, how you dress, where you go, who your friends are, when and how you will have sex, or even come without them being present.”

  “Okay.”

  “It’s a lifestyle many enjoy, and it certainly does take a lot of trust, and love. A submissive is similar in that they give up their choices, as well, but for an agreed amount of time.”

  “A slave is usually on a day-to-day basis?”

  “It’s a very personal thing between pairings. It’s generally a twenty-four seven living arrangement. Or it might be every other weekend. A relationship between a dominant and a submissive may be just for one night, one session, or a lifetime.”

  “But the submissive still gives control up to the dominant.”

  “Yes, but they also make that decision beforehand, and they have a safe word to stop proceedings at any time if it gets too much. Partners can live together in a love relationship, or they can come together for a couple of hours a week and not know each other in any other avenue of life.”

  “But what is the point of it all, Brock. If you give that kind of trust to another person, and it’s not a love relationship, what do you get out of it?”

  “Any number of things. Some people use it to try and purge the bad stuff from their lives. Some people are just in touch with what turns them on and have lost the guilt over it. Some want the thrill of something different, and the risk taking. I guess some do it for all the wrong reasons, too.”

  “What is it for you?”

  Brock looked at her. She deserved an answer to that question. “I used to think for a long time it was because I was a bad person. I wanted to inflict pain on people to try and blame the world for what had happened to me…”

  “And now?”

  “Now, I love the control and the act of being obeyed for sure, but I think it’s the level of trust it involves. I’ve overstepped those boundaries at times, but I’ve learned from that. Everyone can be pushed only so far at any point in their life, and it’s a matter of being ready and building up to it. I guess in my mind, I’m making people stronger, making them believe they can push themselves, helping them to see that giving up control can be quite freeing and rejuvenating.”

  “Why do you think it will help me?”

  “There’s a lot of pain in your past. Maybe it’s time to let it go….”

  “Coming from you…?”

  “Practice what I preach, huh?”

  Sarah threw her hands up. “I don’t know. I really don’t. If it was that easy, everyone would be into BDSM.”

  “
I never said it was easy. There are horror stories out there everywhere, but when two people get it right, it’s a beautiful thing.”

  “Do we get it right?”

  “The closest I’ve ever been to it.”

  “Show me.” Sarah held her hands out to him with her wrists pressed together. “But no gags. No stopping me from being able to say greenhouse or stop.”

  “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “This is a one off. I’m not promising anything in the future.”

  “Fair enough.” He placed his hands over hers. “I’ll bind you, not to hold you captive so much as to immobilize you. The fact you can’t move your body the way it will want to move intensifies the experience for you.”

  “As long as I can speak, I’ll be okay with that.”

  “Oh, you’ll speak. You’ll get angry. You’ll abuse me. You’ll beg. You’ll go through a hundred emotions. But you won’t be able to move.”

  Sarah’s heart pounded just from his words. All her emotions on display. She’d never done that before, truly bared her soul to anyone. Bella knew as much as anyone knew about her, but much of that knowledge stemmed from recent happenings. Sarah had never really gotten into how deep her hate for her parents went, or why.

  “Let’s go home. I’ll take you to my warehouse.” Brock’s smile was pure enticement.

  Chapter Three

  When Brock opened the door to his warehouse, as he called it, Sarah took a few minutes before she stepped through the door. Brock didn’t rush her. He simply waited just over the threshold. Sarah knew once she stepped in, shit got real. Of course, she could stop at any time, it wasn’t as if she’d be a hostage.

  She couldn’t deny that entering in here with Brock meant she was admitting she had past issues to deal with, and admitting there was a side of her that enjoyed being a submissive. But even more so, it meant committing to moving her life forward and many things would change. Many fears would be faced.

  She closed her eyes momentarily, and just took a big step through the doorway. She opened her eyes when she heard the door behind her close and the deadlock snap into place. This was nothing like she’d imagined. It should be a dark, stone dungeon with chains off the walls and scary whips waiting to strike tender flesh.