Apt [Running to Love 6] (Siren Publishing Classic)

BOOK: Apt [Running to Love 6] (Siren Publishing Classic)
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Running to Love 6

Apt

Dave Cutticio's slow climb from the depths of despair following his tour in Afghanistan began with waking up after a drunken rampage to a lovely young woman tenderly bathing his battered face. Fearing his dark, unfettered desire for the innocent Fiona Lambert, Dave returns to Tulsa and finds employment at his comrade-in-arms' BDSM Club. He capitalizes on his dominant side and also receives personal therapy, coming to believe that he soon needs to return to Fiona and tell her a formal good-bye. Especially now that he is a Dom.

Fiona circumvents him, showing up at the club to proclaim her love. Dave is not yet ready to accept that she feels more for him than sympathy and affection. Rejected, Fiona seeks out another BDSM club to explore her own dark needs and try to heal her broken heart. When Dave is invited to tour Unleashed, the newly trained Dom and sub are reunited in a blaze of passion.

Genre:
BDSM, Contemporary

Length:
25,982 words
 

APT

 

Running to Love 6

 

 

 

 

 

Allyson Young

 

 

 

 

 

 

EROTIC ROMANCE

 

 

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

IMPRINT: Erotic Romance

 

 

APT

Copyright © 2012 by Allyson Young

E-book ISBN:
978-1-62241-866-4

 

First E-book Publication: November 2012

 

Cover design by Harris Channing

All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

 

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

 

 

PUBLISHER

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers

 

Dear Readers,

 

If you have purchased this copy of
 
Apt
 
by Allyson Young from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

 

 

Regarding E-book Piracy

 

This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

 

The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

 

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It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Young’s right to earn a living from her work.

 

Amanda Hilton, Publisher

www.SirenPublishing.com

www.BookStrand.com

DEDICATION

 

 

For Lydia, friend by wonderful accident.

APT

Running to Love 6

 

ALLYSON YOUNG

Copyright © 2012

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

Dave Cutticio opened his eyes and stared into the darkness of his Spartan quarters. His place was situated in the back of the Club, and neither he nor his boss and buddy, Alistair Frayne, who’d lived there before he married Dave’s sister Jackie, had the need for luxury. In fact, denying themselves was a pastime, even if ’Stair had moved on. Jackie had managed to replace the linens and have the walls painted, but he’d refused anything further, and she was too busy taking care of her partners and coping with her pregnancy to wheedle and get her little decorating way with him.

The past months had been an eye-opener, and actually quite healing. He still had insomnia, and woke at the damndest times, but he didn’t have nightmares anymore, or at least rarely. He now had a sense of purpose. He was well on his way to becoming a full-fledged Dom, no longer a broken, suicidal human being, and he liked it. He liked being in control again. He wasn’t complete, but that was his fault. Fiona had offered herself, all of her, but he hadn’t dared. He’d tried really hard for her and had begun to change back to Dave, the parts of him she glimpsed past his self-destructive and asshole behavior. But he’d been so afraid it wouldn’t be enough. He had still struggled to manage his violent outbursts and his desire to die. Afghanistan had been a little hell on earth, and he’d been no angel, so if it meant he needed to die to roast eternally, then he’d thought he might take the opportunity. No punishment had seemed great enough. Then Fiona had given him hope and a reason to live, yet he’d run from her like a craven coward and had sent her just the one note to apologize and tell her he was alive and fine, not to worry, and good-bye. And now that he was nearly a Dom, a relationship with her was out of the question. She was an innocent, and despite his vastly improved self control, he couldn’t take the risk with her. He wanted her too much, loved her too much to expect her to accept him as he was now.

He gave up on sleeping and swung his legs out of bed, wincing as his weight transferred to his ass. The good doctor had demonstrated the fine art of plugging an unwilling anus the night before, and if the accompanying orgasm had been spectacular, it didn’t take away from the fact that his bottom hole was a tad tender, not to mention his buttocks. That probably had been the toughest lesson of all, and one that was going to be repeated a few more times, apparently, but he wasn’t allowed to do anything with a submissive until he’d experienced everything he planned to do to them himself. The nipple clamps weren’t his favorite either, but the thought of Fiona’s pert little ones adorned with…He cut that thought off mid-hard-on. Fiona was no longer part of his life, and he couldn’t expect her to participate in such things. Probably why he’d agreed to the training in the first place, to give himself another reason to keep even her memory at arm’s length. He would just have to become the best house Dom Tulsa ever knew and make the best of things. He’d already used up his second chance, and he wouldn’t tempt fate.

He roamed through the darkened Club, the scene and viewing rooms looming strange and foreign when not filled with the sounds of correction and sex. None of the member rooms were in use on this weekday night, and if he was a lesser man, the quiet and emptiness would have spooked him, but he truly was coming back to himself. Dr. Massey praised him, calling him an apt pupil with total focus, exceptional effort, and diligence. The front of the club was a bit brighter, lit by the filter of the streetlamps through the frosted glass. Dave did a final turn past the bar and made a mental note to do an inventory later on in the day before opening.

Alistair spent less and less time at the Club, having become the consummate family man, a fact that pleased Dave to no end, considering the man was married to Jackie. Who was also married to Ashley, which was fucking convoluted but seemed to work well all the same. He didn’t care what any number of people did in bed together so long as it was safe, sane, and consensual, and quite liked the idea of becoming an uncle again. Kids weren’t in his future because the only woman he’d want as their mom was Fiona, so he’d lavish lots of attention on all of his nephews and nieces. He kind of hoped that Jackie would have a baby girl just to mess with ’Stair’s head a little. Her dating years would keep his old comrade-in-arms hopping, although Uncle Dave would back him up. That little girl would be protected from every angle. If the kid was a boy, then he’d be mentored by two of the best, because Dave was nearly solid again, and there was no question about Alistair. In the meantime he’d run the Club for ’Stair, seeing as his old friend had given him the means to come totally back from the brink, and continue his training as a Dom.

The patrol finished, Dave made his way back to his lonely bed. He arranged himself strategically and allowed himself to appreciate the fine thread count of the ivory-colored sheets and light coverlet against his skin. Maybe a little comfort wasn’t so bad. This time he felt himself drift off, the brief physical activity and sane, normal thoughts having done their job.

 

* * * *

 

“Hey! We had a date!” Jackie’s familiar voice penetrated his dreams. Dreams, not nightmares, but damn it all, he’d been dreaming of Fiona. He pried his eyes open and looked into his sister’s sweet face and mischievous eyes.

“Why are you in my quarters?” he rasped through a phlegmy throat as he ran a hand over his face. “You need to learn to knock, little sister.”

“The door was open, Dave, and I did knock on the doorjamb of the bedroom, but you were snoring so loud I expect I could have paraded the entire Club membership through here without you stirring! Big Dom-training night?”

“Go away, Jacks. Go wait for me in the front. Or make coffee or something. I forgot we were going clothes shopping today. Maybe give me a rain check.” He ignored her comment about training just as he’d ignored all the others. It felt weird and not a little unsettling to think that she’d experienced pretty much everything at Alistair’s hands that he had at Dr. Massey’s. He sure as shit wasn’t going to discuss it with her.

“I got myself down here to take you shopping, Dave, and we’re going. I look like I swallowed a watermelon, and my feet are puffy, but it’s my day off and you promised, so get out of bed, and let’s go.”

Dave surrendered to the inevitable and sat up, pushing the covers back as he did so. Jackie shrieked and covered her eyes. “Oh, my god. I don’t want to see my brother’s junk!”

Dave yanked the sheet around his morning wood, flushing. His ass had been too tender to wear boxers, but he’d forgotten. Jackie peeked between her fingers and bent a huge smile on him before turning her petite frame, complete with said watermelon bump, toward his kitchen. She called over her shoulder, “Not that it isn’t an impressive package!”

Dave shook his head. She was irrepressible, and he loved her more than all his other siblings. He bet it took Alistair and Ashley both to keep up with her. A snuffle at his feet had him nearly jumping onto the bed, his right hand scrabbling for the weapon he hadn’t carried for years. Fuck, it was Jackie’s goddamn dog, Beau. The thing moved like a ghost. Alistair felt better if the animal went where Jackie went if he couldn’t go. And today, clothes-shopping day, was obviously a day Alistair felt he couldn’t go with her. Traitor. Beau would eat anyone who even hinted at being any tiny threat to Jackie. He rubbed the dog’s ears, and the pit bull smiled up at him, the pale blue eyes in the white face quite unnerving despite the obvious friendliness. Here was loyalty.

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