dakota_trace_his_christmas_gift_myrnas (7 page)

“Stop it!” His hand slapped down on the rounded curve
of her hip even though his hips continued to rub against her. Through the
layers of blanket and flannel, she felt the thud of his palm against her flesh.
It had her freezing while a different type of fear simmered in her veins. She
stilled even as she felt her response - the embers of her need sizzled. She
shook her head in denial as she realized she wanted his domination. A moment
later he jerked his hips away from hers, but a dark flush filled his cheeks and
a glimmer of regret flicked in his eyes.

“Son of a bitch.” He rolled off her. She nearly cried
out a denial, until his words to her registered. “I’ve already contacted the
bank.”

Her heart began to pound again. She slowly sat up,
pushing her fear, her desire – everything from her mind that didn’t pertain to
Grant to a distant place. “You did?”

He gave a quick nod before rolling into a sitting
position. She watched as he ran his hands through his hair. “Get up. Dinner
will be ready in less than half hour.” He stood.

He was almost to the door when she found her voice.
“Amery, what did you find out?”

“Get dressed. We’ll talk about it at dinner.”

“Okay.” She moved to the edge of the bed. She was
just reaching for her robe, when his voice rasped over her once more.

“And Myrna?”

She looked up from tying her robe.

“You had better come up with a good reason for not
telling me last night, or you’ll find yourself draped over my knees with my
hand warming your ass.”

Her mouth opened and closed several times. “But I’m
not your slave!”

His eyes turned cool before his mouth hardened. “It
won’t matter. You’ll find yourself there just the same.” He turned and stalked
out of the room.

Chapter Five

Standing in the kitchen, Amery wrestled not only with
his temper but his unruly body.
Of all the times to get a hard-on, Alastar!
Myrna is never gonna think you have her best interests at heart when your dick
is hard as iron from a simple brush of her body against yours.

 Jerking open the fridge, he pulled out a half full
litre of milk for Myrna and a bottle of Guinness for himself. Behind him on the
table, he’d prepared a simple meal of Irish soda bread and coddle for them. The
savory scents of ham, sausage, potatoes, and onions with a hint of parsley in
Myrna’s favorite stew had been teasing him all afternoon and hopefully would
put Myrna in a good enough mood that she’d talk freely to him.

He was just setting a glass of cold milk and the cold
bottle of beer on the table when Myrna entered the kitchen. Her flannel gown
had been replaced by a faded jersey dress which had once been emerald green and
a pair of comfortable embroidered ballerina slippers. Despite the worn look of
the dress, Amery’s mouth went dry. The dress flowed over the swells of Myrna’s
body while accenting them. The fitted top hugged her generous breasts before
flowing down to a gently flared skirt that barely brushed her knees.
Damneigh
,
how am I supposed to keep my mind on what happened when I want to toss her
down on the table and have her for dinner?

He tried to speak, but had to clear his suddenly
tight throat before he was able to force even the simplest of words out.
“Ah…dinner is ready.”

A hesitant smile crossed her lips before she nodded.
“Yes, I smelled it before I got half way down the hall. Thank you, Alastar, for
making my favorite.” She brushed by him while heading to the sink to wash her
hands. The subtle scent of vanilla washed over him and made his cock leap
behind the fine linen of his slacks. Cursing under his breath, he pulled the
chair out and sat down, effectively hiding the tented material of his slacks.
Myrna would never take this discussion seriously if she spotted his erection.

* * * *

Rinsing her hands off, Myrna tried to ignore Amery’s
commanding presence. She had to keep her head with him. For once he wasn’t
going to be bailing her out of trouble again. She was over sixty years old now.
She wasn’t a single mother with a small child anymore, who needed a knight in
shining armor to rescue her.
Now all I need to do is convince Amery of that.

After drying her hands on the dishtowel next to the
sink, she joined Amery at the table. Her stomach rumbled as she reached for the
spoon next to her bowl.

“When’s the last time you ate a full meal, Myrna?”

 The sharpness of Amery’s voice had her choosing her
words carefully. “Yesterday.”  She lifted the spoon to her mouth.

“Before or after you showed up at the club?”

“Before.” She shoved the spoon into her mouth before
he could ask another question. Hopefully if she kept her mouth full, the
questions would stop until after she’d eaten. She closed her eyes when the
hearty taste of potatoes and spiciness of the sausage burst on her tongue.
Amery was a damn fine cook.

“That’s dangerous with your diabetes, Myrna. You
should’ve eaten something before you fell asleep in your chair. An Irish cream
coffee doesn’t suffice.”

Wiping her mouth with her napkin, Myrna tried to hang
onto her temper. “Thank you for the lecture, Amery, but I am an adult.  While I
was too upset last night to eat a full meal, I did have a light snack of cheese
and crackers. I’m not an idiot. Whether you believe it or not, I do know my
body better than anyone else does.”

Amery’s gray eyes began to glitter with desire. “For
the moment. One day soon, I’ll know every inch of you better than you know
yourself. From the top of your head to the bottom of your toes and every
delicious inch in between – including those delicious looking nipples.”

The rosy heat filling her face seemed to amuse him.
The corner of his eyes crinkled as he reached for his Guinness. He cradled the
bottle between his palms even as he grinned at her.

“Why are you so shocked, Myrna? Every time I’ve ever
watched you in a scene, it was all I could do to not beg Grant to let just let
me touch them – taste them. They’re such a deep pink, I am certain they’d turn
raspberry red for the right Dom.”

Myrna drew a sharp breath. Her womb fluttered despite
the trickle of unease the word Dom brought out. Under the fitted top of her
dress, said body parts tightened at the idea of his sensual mouth tormenting
them.

As his gaze fell to her chest, she was secretly glad
all of her everyday bras had been in the hamper. It had left only the long line
plunged bra she normally wore under her two formal gowns clean. The extra
padding in the cups kept her now tightly beaded nipples from his intense gaze.
Thank
God he can’t see through clothing.
When he opened his mouth to speak again,
she held up a hand. She had a panicked thought he was gearing up to tell her
everything he wanted to do to her body. She didn’t know how to handle Amery the
Dom. She needed her friend back.

“That’s enough, Amery. I don’t know what happened to
my friend, but I’d really like to have him back.” She squared her shoulders.
“You asked why I didn’t tell you last night about the call from the bank?” She
tossed her napkin down next to her bowl. “It’s because the man I spoke to on
the phone last night wasn’t asking as a friend. He was acting like an arse
because I didn’t do what he wanted or expected. Frankly it surprised me. You’re
the last person I thought would pull something like this.”

Her piece said Myrna moved to leave, but her butt had
barely lifted off the chair when his voice washed over her.

“Unless you want to find yourself over my lap with my
hand coming down hard on your arse, you’ll sit back down.”

Her heart pounding, she froze. Her instinctive
response to his tone was surprising. Even though she’d been out of the scene,
she remembered that tone well. There had been hints of it in the past but this
was the first time she’d slammed full bore into his Dom persona. She dropped
back into the chair, her head lowering instinctively. Internally she cursed.
Damneigh,
Grant taught my body too well.
Tears pricked at her eyes. She didn’t want
to do this. This submissive side of her scared the hell out of her.
I have
to be strong. I never want to go through what I went through with Grant again.
I won’t survive it.

“Now, you and I are going to have a discussion.
There’ll be no lying or I
will
spank you, Myrna, and only the Lord knows
what’ll happen if I get you over my knee. Nod if you understand.”

Myrna slowly nodded after placing her trembling hands
in her lap.

“All right, then. You do understand I’ll always be
your friend, no matter what tone of voice I take with you? The only thing that
will change our friendship is if you give me your submission.”

She licked her suddenly dry lips. Lifting her head,
she peeked at him through her lashes. Every part of her wanted to protest, to
rail at him. She didn’t want to lose her friend, but in the mood he was in, she
was afraid of what would happen if she spoke out of turn.

“I can see the wheels turning in your head. What is
it?”

A heartfelt sigh escaped her. “That’s what I’m scared
of, Amery. Losing you as a friend just to scratch an itch which will eventually
fade isn’t worth the temporary physical pleasure you might give me.”

His eyes warmed briefly before returning to the calm
confident gaze he normally wore during training. “Who said you were going to
lose a friend if we become Master and slave?”

She lifted a trembling hand to her hair.
Damn, I
hate the fact he makes me feel like a young girl fresh out of the school room.
I’m a grown woman.
“You did.” She dropped her gaze when he moved forward. A
tingle of awareness flowed through her when his hand touched her cheek. When he
coaxed her face up to his, she was surprised to see an extraordinary amount of
tenderness in his eyes.

“What’s makes me your friend, Myrna?”

She searched his face, confused. “I…you...” She
frantically searched for a response which would please him.

“Stop over-thinking it.” His thumb brushed over her
lower lip. “Just tell me what makes me your friend.”

A hesitant smile crossed her face. “You care about
me.”

He gave her a warm smile. “That’s right. I care about
you. Isn’t that the most important thing between a Dom and his sub?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Grant told me it was submission.”

He shook his head. “Sounds like something he would
say. He was wrong. Without caring, there can be no trust, and without trust
there can be no submission. You have to have caring or you’ll never have true
submission.” He pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. Raising his head he brushed
a tear away. “That’s what I want from you, Myrna. When I become your Master,
sweetheart, the friendship we have will develop into something more infinite
and lasting.” He gave her a rueful smile when she started to pull away from
her. She was sure the fear she felt was obvious to him. “But I’m getting ahead
of myself again. I can wait a little bit longer. Not much, mind you…but I’ll
warn you before I pounce.”

Her fear which gripped her slipped away once more as
her humor was tickled – her friend was back.

“Now tell me what happened last night after you left
the club while we finish our meal.” He leaned back in his chair before reaching
for his spoon.

Giving a soft sigh, she spilled everything to him as
they ate. Well almost everything. She refused to think about the phone call
from Grant, so she never mentioned it to Amery. Her reasoning was sound to her
own mind. She wasn’t going to see him, so it didn’t matter that he called. As
soon as her finances were in order again, she was divorcing his cheating ass.
Aside from that, Amery had once threatened to kill the other man if he as much
as tried to breath the same air as Myrna again. The last thing she wanted was
Amery in jail – even if most people – including herself would consider it
justifiable homicide.

* * * *

After their dinner, Amery led Myrna into her living
room. After seeing her settled once more into the overstuffed chair he’d found
her in earlier, he knelt in front of the hearth and stroked up the embers.
After adding several small pieces of wood to the fire and watching them catch,
he straightened. His gaze landed on the trio of pictures Myrna had proudly
displayed on the mahogany mantle

 A silver framed picture of Caelan sat in the center
and was flanked by a picture of a young Olivia and another of Olivia and Caelan
together. Her family, he thought as a pang of longing struck at him. His
parents were gone and he’d been an only child. There had been no siblings,
nieces or nephews for him to dote on. And after a severe case of the mumps hit
him when he was sixteen, there had been no chance of him ever having a family
of his own. The idea that Grant had thrown Myrna away because she couldn’t have
any more kids after Caelan infuriated him. The arsehole evidently didn’t
realize what a treasure he’d had in Myrna or in his son.
The man was a gold
plated idiotic fool. He should’ve been happy with what he had. Instead he
chased his dream of his great family dynasty.
According to Caelan, at last
count, Grant Doherty had nine children by eight different women.
Some dynasty.