For the Sub (5 page)

An hour later, when Master Marcus was leaving, she held his leather bomber jacket while he shrugged into it.

“Shall I have your vehicle brought around, Sir?”

He shook his head. “I’m too impatient to wait.”

She smiled at his abrupt tone, as if being away from home and Julia even this long had been torture. She opened the front door, and a blast of cold evening air smacked her.

“Autumn in the Rockies,” he said, turning up his collar. “We’re in for an early snow.”

Once the sun had set, the temperature had plummeted. She slammed the door closed, and was grateful for the whisper of warm air from the heating vent.

Gregorio wandered into the foyer. “You’re quiet tonight. Did everything go okay with Master Niles?”

“Fine,” she said. “The man knows what he’s doing.”

“Don’t get your heart broken,” Gregorio warned.

She scowled. “What the hell makes you say that?”

“Nothing more than a lucky guess. I was feeling you out. Your response was a bit touchy.”

“And you’re more than a bit nosy,” she countered.

“You can’t fix everyone.”

“Who said I want to fix him?”

“Don’t you?” Gregorio challenged.

In his inimitable style, he folded his arms across his chest and spread his legs, standing there like an unmovable object. She knew better than to try to push past him. Tonight he wore a black T-shirt and black jeans with black motorcycle boots accented with sturdy metal buckles at the ankle. Though he could be a switch, right now, he looked fierce, protective of her.

“I’m sure that’s the only time we’ll ever scene.”

“Why did you invite him?”

She bristled, feeling defensive. “Who said I initiated it?”

“Master Niles wouldn’t have.”

“You sound certain of that.”

“I am.”

Brandy sighed. “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “Something in his eyes…”

Gregorio said nothing.

“I’m allowed to initiate a scene with the guests,” she said.

“You are.” He lapsed into silence again.

“Fine. I’ll be careful.”

“I love you like a sister.”

She gave him a wan smile. “You’re as big of a pain in the ass as a big brother would be.” And he knew her as well as a family member might. She had dozens of friends, no close relatives and a fractured spirit. Gregorio had spent many long nights at the Den talking with her after all the members had left.

One evening, he’d sat on the couch with her while she’d spilt the secrets of her past with Darren and cried herself to sleep. She’d awakened before dawn. She had been snuggled against Gregorio’s chest, and his arm was around her shoulder.

More than anyone, he had the right to question her motives with regards to Master Niles. Gregorio knew her past as well as she did, maybe even understood it better than she did. If and when her soul shattered again, he’d be there to pick up the shards.

“Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“It meant nothing to him,” she said.

“You’re right,” he said, but his words lacked conviction. “Don’t forget it.” With that warning, he told the valet to fetch her car.

“I am on duty until midnight,” she protested.

“You’re going home.”

“Working might be good for me.”

“And being with your zoo is better.”

“I prefer the term menagerie.”

“Zoo.”

She gave him a quick hug. He pulled out her coat from the back of the closet. After she’d put it on and fastened all the buttons, he walked her to her vehicle.

“You have my phone number,” he reminded her.

“I won’t need it.” She fastened the safety belt across her lap. “You would annoy the hell out of me if I didn’t love you so much.”

“You annoy me because I love you so much.” He closed the door and gave her a sharp salute.

Brandy struggled to stay focused during the drive home. When she arrived home to the insane welcome of barking and meowing, she realised why she’d been so defensive with Gregorio. He was right. She hadn’t done a good job of being professional with Master Niles. She’d wanted to scene with him, be with him. But she’d wanted him to see her as a woman, not as a professional hired to do the job. Tonight she’d broken one of her cardinal rules. She’d allowed their time together to mean something to her.

Brandy turned on the radio and cranked up the volume, hoping to drown out her thoughts. She told herself that, by morning, she’d forget about him.

But for now, she allowed herself to remember the way he’d looked at her when he’d turned her to face him after fucking her so hard she’d all but forgotten her own name.

Chapter Three

“You should squeeze it gently to make sure it’s firm, but not so firm that it has no give.”

Niles looked up from the display of tomatoes and turned to face the woman standing next to him. “Brandy?”

“Vine-ripened are best,” she added. “They’re much better if they’re not picked when they’re green.”

Here, in a small market in Granby, he barely recognised her. He hadn’t expected to run into someone he knew, and this woman bore little resemblance to the woman he’d scened with a few weeks before.

She wore no makeup. Her gorgeous blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She had on a black sweater and matching skirt, with black tights and comfortable-looking suede boots with some sort of fur cuff. A stunning magenta scarf completed her outfit. She took his breath away.

The scent of her, fresh, like a crisp autumn morning, walloped him. Images of her naked body tied up and waiting for him flashed through his mind, leaving him aroused and not at all convinced he wouldn’t take her up against a wall.

“And make sure there are no external blemishes.”

“Ah,” he said. “Thanks.” He put down the tomato he’d been holding and schooled his runaway thoughts. That night at the Den after he’d taken her to the dungeon, Damien and Gregorio had pulled him aside and explained that Brandy was an excellent sub and even better employee. More than that, Gregorio thought of her as a younger sister. Niles had assured both men that he had no intentions towards any woman, including her. But the way he was feeling this moment, with her standing a scant few inches from him, he sure as hell had ideas, and they weren’t honourable. Reining himself in, he reached for some small talk. That’s what polite people did when they were trying to pretend they were better than Neanderthals. “Is it that obvious I don’t know what I’m doing?” And he might starve if he didn’t eat out or have a housekeeper who shopped for him once a week.

“I’m sure it would have been fine.”

“Really?”

“No. That was a lie.” She shook her head. “It would have been tasteless, dull. Boring. And you don’t like those things.”

“You’re right.” Which explained a lot about his attraction to her.

“I didn’t know you lived up here,” she said.

“I don’t. I’m staying at a friend’s cabin. Most of the time he rents it out, but it’s between seasons right now, no real hunting or skiing, and the summer vacation season is over.”

“It’s a great time for seeing the aspens,” she said.

“And listening to the elk bugle. Do you live up here?” he asked.

“I do. I’ve been up here about two years. I left Denver after The Great Disaster.”

“Taking it that’s not a movie?”

She grinned. “It was a fresh start, and I’ve been lucky to find work doing some marketing for one of the smaller ski resorts and a couple of the towns around here, web design, social networking, that sort of thing.”

Odd that he’d never considered that she had a job outside of being a submissive at the Den. Then again, over the last few years, he’d thought of precious little beyond what he’d lost. He wondered what she’d almost revealed before catching herself. For the first time in a long time, he was intrigued.

“Are you any good at barbecuing?” she asked.

“You’re asking a man who can’t select a tomato?”

“The two can’t be compared. Men will cook if flames and risk are involved. It’s genetic. A badge of honour, even.”

He laughed. “That sounds sexist.”

“Is it true?”

“I’ve lit a grill a time or two,” he conceded. No way could he be considered a gourmet, though.

“With matches or a flamethrower?”

“Both. Why do you ask?”

She brushed her hair back from her face. “I’m having a small get-together this afternoon at my place. Nothing fancy. Just a few friends. But the neighbour who cooks the hamburgers had to go out of town. I need a replacement.”

“You’re asking me to be your chef?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far. Cook is fine.”

He socialised only with a select group of people he knew well and who didn’t pry into his personal life or try to set him up with their available female friends. His friends understood his need to be alone, and they honoured it. This woman, though, had intruded on his privacy at the Den and now she was trying to drag him to a gathering where he knew no one. She was treading where no one else dared go.

“I bet you’re wondering what’s in it for you,” she said.

He was actually trying to think of an excuse that wouldn’t crush her and make him feel like a louse.

“Dinner,” she said. “Everyone brings a dish, and you know how that is. No one brings things they’re bad at. So there will be lots of salads, several kinds of dessert, including cheesecake, and all the beer you can drink.” She cocked her head to one side and smiled at him. “And you’ll have my undying gratitude.”

The last part interested him.

“I’m desperate,” she confessed, going on as if she’d sensed an opening. “Since I’m the hostess, I have a million things to do, and I know I’ll forget about the burgers and burn them, or get impatient and take them off too soon.” She looked at him with wide eyes, as if it didn’t occur to her he’d refuse.

In her world, no doubt people did help one another. Niles had never been the neighbourly type. “Brandy, I don’t—”

“They’re a good group of people.”

“I’m sure they are.”

“I’ll owe you a favour. Please say yes.”

Good God. There was no way to refuse this woman anything. At the Den, he’d thought of her as a beautiful, compliant submissive. In this moment, he knew he’d underestimated her. She had the relentless determination of a bulldozer. But she’d approached him with such guileless trust that he wanted to help. “I can spare a couple of hours this afternoon.”

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.” She did a little two step, and an older couple smiled at her enthusiasm. “Thank you, thank you. I’ll even pick out your tomatoes. In fact, all of your produce. How’s that for gratitude?”

Ten minutes later, his basket was full, he’d been educated about the reasons to select heirloom vegetables, learnt how apples were graded and she’d given him directions to her home.

“See you around three.”

He realised she wasn’t asking, she was telling.

Without waiting for an answer, she raised on her tiptoes and leaned towards him to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Sir.”

She gripped the bar of her basket and strolled off with a little wave, making him wonder what in the hell had just happened.

He’d come into town for a few staples and a bottle of scotch, just a couple of things to get him through the weekend, and now a scrap of a woman who was supposed to be a submissive had commandeered his afternoon.

And damn if her small expression of thanks hadn’t made him want to wrap up the moon and give it to her.

He didn’t have to wonder how long it had been since he’d shared a small, intimate moment like that with a woman. To the minute, he knew. Until now, though, he’d thought he’d buried the ache under layers of regret. But Brandy, with her genuine delight and unrestrained appreciation, awakened a part of him that he’d thought was gone forever.

With a sigh, he headed for the junk food aisle and justified his action by telling himself potato chips were made from vegetables.

Niles hoped to run into her in the checkout lanes. If he did, he’d load her groceries into her vehicle. He didn’t see her again, and he wondered why it bothered him.

After he arrived back at the cabin, he started to put away his food. He held the tomatoes and considered them. Refrigerator or countertop? Did it matter, really? Maybe it did. No doubt Brandy could write a dissertation on it.

Deciding to put them in the refrigerator so they’d last longer, he changed into a long-sleeved flannel shirt before heading outside to chop some wood to stockpile for the winter. Nights were already damn cool up here, and snow wouldn’t be far behind. Doing physical labour was part of the reason he was allowed to use the cabin at no charge.

He skipped the chainsaw in favour of a good old-fashioned axe. He hefted the substantial weight and brought it down in smooth, powerful moves.

There were dozens of logs to cut, and he knew it would take his friend several weeks to get through them. That suited him fine. He needed the physical movement to banish the sudden and stark image of Brandy kneeling naked in front of him, her legs spread as she waited for his attentions.

An hour later, muscles straining, sweat beaded on his brow, he sank the axe head into a log and stood upright, stretching his sore muscles. He opened the top couple of buttons on his shirt before striding back inside.

Even though he’d drained his energy, the physical exertion hadn’t helped. He saw the rug and pictured her there.

He showered, masturbating as he stood beneath the warm water. Ejaculating didn’t vanquish the sexual energy he felt when he thought of her. In fact, it seemed to make it worse.

Niles set the spray to a hot, punishing pulse that hammered his shoulders. As he stood there, the truth hit him. Brandy’s curvy body and long, blonde hair appealed to him. When he factored in her direct communication and the way she’d kissed his cheek, as if it was a natural impulse, he was done for.

No way should he attend the function at her house.

He didn’t want to meet her friends, answer curious questions or learn anything more about her. If he went to the party, people would assume they had a relationship. He needed to keep her outside his inner circle. They could hook up at the Den, then he could walk away at the end of the evening having dominated a willing, sexy submissive. Wasn’t that every man’s fantasy? A hot woman in the bed and no awkward moments afterwards?