Free Submit and Surrender by Chloe Cox Page A

obeyed.
    She did it reflexively, automatically. She bent at the waist, her ass up in the air, her hands reaching out for the handles, fingers spread wide as she savored the way it felt to wrap her hands around the contoured rubber. She turned her head, resting her cheek on the bench. And she gave in.
    “She surrenders,” Ford said.
    His voice beat with a rhythm she could feel between her legs. Her body hummed with the timbre of his voice.
    “Her entire body is like a primed instrument,” Ford said, his hand moving to her hip. “She can feel everything. She can feel me breathe. She is pulled tight, waiting for it. The slightest touch, the slightest impact…”
    Would he do it?
    Jesus, would he do it?
    She’d let him.
    “Do you know anything about impact play?” Ford said.
    Olivia didn’t answer him.
    No one answered him.
    Adra waited.
    And then she heard the door and Santos’s hurried steps, and the spell was broken. Ford’s hand slid off her hip, and his other hand came up under her arm, lifting her up gently, his fingers soft. His voice murmuring something in her ear, something calm. Something caring.
    Santos pulling at his hair, yelling. Derrick staring angrily, Olivia just staring.
    “What’s going on?” Adra finally asked.
    “I need you two downstairs to shoot scene 3A right fucking now,” Santos was shouting. “Now, now, now! We can’t secure the grounds, so we have to set up inside, and we can’t lose a damn day to this leak!”
    Adra watched this renowned creative genius pull at his hair while Derrick and Olivia scrambled to get ready for a different scene, and couldn’t feel anything but detached. It was like everybody else was shouting underwater. The only person she was aware of was Ford.
    Ford, standing next to her, watching her.
    They stood like that until they were alone, watching each other. Adra could feel her mind begin to churn, begin to wake up, to scream at her about what the hell had just happened. What about him? Did he feel that? Did he have that uncertainty, that doubt, fringed by this dark desire that threatened to overrun everything? Or was he just calm, and collected, and so goddamn Dom-y it was infuriating. Unperturbed, unbothered. Certain.
    He knew what he was. He knew what she was. He knew what he’d just done.
    “Goddammit, Ford,” Adra whispered.
    “Talk to me,” he said.
    She shook her head. Now that reality was rushing in felt like she was drowning. You can’t talk about drowning until you’re safe. Until you’re on dry land.
    “I need time,” she said. “Go deal with the security issue. Go make it safe here.”
    Ford frowned, his eyes sad, but he didn’t move. “Adra,” he said.
    “Please,” she said. “Please, Ford? This isn’t my first time.”
    Ford smiled a kind of haunted smile.
    “No, it isn’t.”
    “I know what I need,” Adra said. “I need you to go make the club safe. I need…”
    “You’ll need to talk to me,” Ford said. “Eventually. But I’ll deal with this now. I’ll do you anything you want.”
    He had walked half way to the door before he turned around.
    “You know that, right?” he said.
    “You’ll do anything I want,” Adra said.
    Ford grinned. “Within the rules.”
    And then he was gone.

chapter 7

    Adra spent the rest of the morning into the afternoon by herself. She didn’t know if she truly wasn’t needed on set or if Ford had told everybody to leave her alone, but she was grateful for the respite either way. She needed it.
    After Ford and that scene, she really needed it. A lifetime might not be long enough to calm down from that. Adra was grateful for whatever she could get.
    Besides, the Volare gardens were somehow peaceful, even if all hell was breaking loose outside. The police still hadn’t managed to get the crowds totally under control, the photographers kept trying to climb trees or whatever else they could find, and that stupid stoplight still wasn’t working, adding traffic to all the