Green Broke Woman (19 page)

“Oh God, don't make that noise!” she pleaded.

Keith's head flew up, and he wiped his mouth
with his forearm. The sight of his face filled with concern and desire made her
wish she'd muddled through to please him.

Way to go,
wuss
.
You have way more experience than you did at eighteen, and now you're too
chicken to use it. See if they don't give up on you.

“I'm sorry, baby.
Too
fast?”
Keith asked, running his hands up and down her legs.

She nodded, blinded by the mist setting in to
cloud her vision.

“We'll just finish washing you and then get
you dried and in bed,” Jake said. “Keep the ass plug in. This one's bigger.
It'll help.”

“I can suck you guys off. I'm really good at
that, and it doesn't trigger any flashbacks,” she offered desperately.

Keith stood. “We don't want pleasure unless
you get it.”

“But I got it. I want to make you happy,” she
begged, clawing at him. “Please let me serve you.”

“Kayla, stop,” Travis scolded. “We'll be
fine. Just let us take care of you. We'll get you cleaned up, dried off, and
tucked into bed. We know what you need.”

How could they when she didn't even know?

Chapter
Nine: Black Dragon

Kayla sat up in bed when she got a scary
thought. Her driver's license had her old address on it from when she'd lived
with Master Hugh. She'd forgotten to change her license when she moved, and
Beck had it with him. What if he hurt her Master?

Like he could.
Master Hugh had an attitude, and cane or not,
he'd probably clobber the rich man to death before Beck knew what hit him.

She scrambled out of bed and dialed Master's
number on her cell phone. She had it memorized. The rings tugged at her heart,
but all she got was his voice mail. She choked up at the sound of his voice and
put a hand over her mouth.

“Hello. You've reached my voice mail, and if
you don't already know who I am, then why are you harassing me? If I'm not
answering my phone, it means I'm either detained or I just don't want to talk
to you right now.”

She grinned through her tears. Even on voice
mail he was a cynical smartass. It sounded like he'd changed his recording
since they'd been together.

“If this is my ex wife, it
is
you. It's not me.”

Kayla snickered but then frowned, feeling
jealousy coil inside of her. He was married before? He'd spoken of an ex, but
she assumed he'd been referring to a past girlfriend, not a past marriage. Then
again, she should have known. It stood to reason that a man of his age had been
married before.

The voice mail continued. “And if this is Black
Dragon, I'm ready for you.”

Her ears perked. Did he mean the BDSM club
he'd once worked at in Lexington? Well, that didn't make a lot of sense. Why
would he be ready for the club to call him? It sounded more like a threat. Was
it a code of sorts? Why the hell would he talk in code?

“
Mmm
, nothing like
pumpkin pie, is there? The puree is just right.”

She sniffled through a smile, wondering if
he'd forgotten to turn the recording off.

“Allspice, yes, nutmeg, mmm, yes, and
cinnamon, can't ever forget cinnamon.”

Her heart thudded, nearly stopping. He was
talking about a spice, not her old pet name.

“Oh cinnamon, there's no one like you, is
there?” He sounded reflective and sad.

Her pulse stuttered. Was he talking about her
or the spice?

“The best damned spice there is. Add some of
that. You make the whole pie worthwhile.”

Tears dribbled down her cheeks.

“
Mmm
, now that's a
pie. I love you, cinnamon. I always have, always will.”

She started to sob, getting the nagging
feeling he was talking to her. Probably not, but it wasn't like him to talk to
spices.

“Damn it. This is still on. Well, that will
make for an interesting voice mail. Whoever you are just leave your name,
number, and state your purpose and I might get back to you. Ciao.”

Her heart sank. It had been a mistake.

No. He was smarter than that, but why
talk
in code? Was that his subliminal way of telling her he
loved her? Why not just
freakin
'
tell
her?

The phone beeped, indicating she should leave
her message. What to say to him?

Just get to the point. Don't
let him hear you cry, just in case he really is psychotic over a spice.

She took a deep breath and went for it.
“Ma...” Her eyes squeezed shut, milking the unbidden tears. “Hugh,
it's
Kayla. I'm sorry to bother you. I just wanted to let
you know that someone else has my license, and it still has your address on the
card. I just thought of it. I'm hoping they don't pay you a visit.”

Her throat tightened, and her heart ached
with feeling.

“Please, please don't open the door for
anyone named Beck Hammond, or Slade, or Bruce Callaghan. They're bad men. I
need you to be safe.” She paused, letting the bittersweet memories of her time
with Hugh Randall wash over her. “I did what you said. I went home. I should
have done that a long time ago.” Damn it, she sounded like she was crying.

Way to maintain a sense of
dignity, Kayla.

“I just ... I just wanted to let you know so
you would be okay. I'm safe now. I should go. Bye.”

She hung up, wanting to kick herself for
sounding so tearful and pathetic on the message. Now he would know she was
falling apart without him.
Wonderful.
The smug, gloating bastard.

She went downstairs for a drink of water,
surprised to see Keith heading toward the front door. “Where are you going?”

“Jesus!” He jumped, looking like he'd been
caught red-handed. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I'm sorry. Where are you going?”

“Just for a walk,” he said quickly. “What are
you doing up?”

“I couldn't sleep.”

“Well, let me tuck you back in.” He walked
toward her, looking caught off guard and utterly aroused when she put her hands
on his chest.

“I can be whatever you guys need me to be,”
she said softly. “I'll try to get over my issues quicker.”

“Take all the time you want.” He rubbed her
arm and gave her a sweet but distracted smile. “Keep going to therapy. It’ll
help you. We’re here if you need to talk.”

“Thanks. Keith.”

His brows rose to give her his attention
without a verbal response.

“Will you take me to the Black Dragon?”

He blinked in confusion before a playful
smile of mischief lined his face.
“Now?”

“Please.”

“It's closed right now.”

“I don't care. I want to see it. Please.”

He looked at the clock and sighed before
giving her a fond gaze. “Okay, but we're just looking. No touching the
equipment. You're not ready for it yet.”

“Yes, Master. Uh, I mean Sir. Yes, Sir,” she
replied with a nod, refraining from smiling at the pleasure he seemed to get
from her respect. If that seduced him to reacquaint her with the lifestyle
she'd loved and lost, then she just might have to “Sir” the crap out of him.

But did he smile because she remembered to
call him
Sir
or because she'd called
him
Master?

****

Excited jitters tumbled through Kayla's
system when they pulled up to the fancy wrought iron gate. Keith leaned out the
window and punched in the code so the gate opened and then closed behind them
when they drove through.

The driveway was long and dotted with stately
oaks, weeping willows, and pines, but while the trees sheltered the two-story
brick mansion, they couldn't conceal it completely. The grounds were landscaped
and inviting she noticed as Keith parked the truck and they got out.

“You've never been here before have you?” he
asked with a naughty gleam in his eyes.

She shook her head with a giddy smile. “No. I
was too young back then.”

“Definitely not too young now,” he muttered,
adjusting his jeans.

A surge of moisture pooled in her folds when
she thought she caught a glimpse of a tent in his pants. Then again, it was
dark, so maybe not. Was he excited just to have her here? He sure looked happy
to be here with her.

The magnificent, large brick house was
studded with windows, which were framed with white trim and sandwiched by black
shutters. The towering white columns book-ending the porch supported the
plantation-style balcony above.

Her attention was averted only when he
pointed to the regal fountain gurgling and sputtering water from an enormous
black marble dragon.

Her face lit up as she examined it. “That's
so cool.”

“Isn't it?”

Keith put an arm around her shoulder and led
her up the front steps. He let go of her and unlocked the front door, letting
her step in first. He flipped on a light, closing and locking the door behind
them.

Kayla blinked, allowing her eyes to adjust to
the unexpected brightness.

The entry was quite spacious and had a
certain Colonial quality to it just as the exterior of the house did. The grand
split staircase straight ahead snagged her attention first. The railing was
some kind of smooth, polished dark wood supported by wrought iron. What looked
to be a roll of red velvet carpet cascaded down the middle of the stairs,
giving off a regal affectation from another
era.

Two bathrooms that were labeled as such and
mentioned showers and lockers on their oak plaques served as sidekicks to the
staircase, one on either side.

A massive palm tree in an oversized ivory pot
stood at attention by the wall to her left, whispering to her delicious
suggestions of what lay beyond the double doors it rested near.

A desk was built into the wall on the right,
leading to an office. The arbor to the left of that displayed an open dining
room and possibly a kitchen beyond that. She could only imagine how wonderful
it looked.

“That's the men's shower, bathroom, and
locker room.” Keith pointed out. “And that's the women's. In there you have the
dining room, kitchen, and a cinema room decorated like the 1950s.”

She grinned. “You have a cinema here?”

He nodded. “Yeah, it's mainly so the two
managers who live on site can watch movies if they like. That's why there's a
kitchen, too, since this is basically their house.”

“I thought you and your brothers owned the
place.”

“We do, but Travis is busy with the ranch,
and Jake and I get busy with our jobs. We're only here when the club is open.
The rest of the time we're living our lives.”

She humored him with a nod, torn between
interest in what he said and how sinfully appetizing he looked in those
dark-wash jeans and navy blue T-shirt. The way it hugged his tight arms ought
to be illegal.

Keith became reflective for a moment as he
spoke. “Besides, none of us wanted to live here, as much as we like the place.”

“Why not?”

His spaced expression resumed its natural
ease. “It reminds us too much of our father.”

“I can’t really remember him.”

“I'm not surprised.” He shook his head,
seeming mildly blue and deeply contemplative. “He left when I was fourteen. You
would have been just a little kid at the time.”

“I have a couple of vague memories of him,
but I don't remember what he looked like. I remember he was grouchy.”

Keith cocked a crooked smile she found
endearing. “He was. Really sarcastic, too, but he could be funny sometimes in a
dry, cynical kind of way.”

“Why did he leave if you don't mind me
asking?”

He drew in a breath and sighed heavily. “I
don't know. Our mom threw him out, but she never told us why. We asked her. She
said it wasn't another woman or anything. They just weren't right for each
other.” He shook his head. “I don't get it. They were fine for each other, but
then all of a sudden our dad gets back from another mysterious trip and he's
different.”

Kayla tried to think of something to distract
him from his disappointment. “That's nice of you guys to keep the ranch and all
those horses.”

“Thoroughbreds were his passion.” He frowned.
“That's the other thing. When he got back from wherever he'd been, he lost
interest in the ranch and horses. He was good to us, but not so much into the
country thing anymore. Not sure why.”

“That's weird. People can change, though.”

Darkness crossed his face as he seemed to
stare off into some cold, unforgiving place. “You've got that right.”

She shifted uncomfortably on her feet, hoping
to bring him back from whatever awful thoughts imprisoned his handsome face
with worry. “Didn't you tell me he's the one who started this club?”