Siren Unleashed [Texas Sirens 7] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (9 page)

“Of course. He’s in the dungeon.”

Well that didn’t take long. “I don’t suppose I can just walk down there like this?”

“Fet wear only, Mr. Dawson. I had a set of leathers placed in your locker. Feel free to change.”

Ben sighed. He was dead tired, but he needed to talk to Chase. “Thank you. Please have the luggage sent up to our room. And any minute now a ball of chaos and tears is going to walk through that door. It’s my sister. Feel free to put her in a closet if she misbehaves.”

He followed the signs to the dungeon. His long night wasn’t over yet.

* * * *

She’d made a horrible mistake. She knew it the minute she left the dungeon and walked into the women’s dressing room.

“Are you all right?” Gaby asked. She didn’t need to change. She ran the place, but she pulled off her daywear in exchange for a leather bustier. It looked like she and Cal would get in some play tonight.

“I wanted to sleep with him.” There. She’d said it. She’d just put it out there. She’d wanted to have sex with a guy she’d just met. She never did that. She didn’t even scene with a guy until she’d known him a couple of months and had him checked out.

But she wanted Sir. Dawson. Whatever his name was. She’d sat there cuddling with him and there was nothing she’d wanted more than to tilt her head up and hope he would kiss her.

Gaby’s eyes got wide. “Really? He’s so…weird.”

Yes, he’d been weird. He’d been awkward at times. After he’d held her for the longest time, he’d been right back to that cold, distant Dom he’d been in the first place, but she saw through that now. It was his mask. She wore one, too, but he’d let her in by sitting there and holding her, his big, strong hands smoothing back her hair. “I like him.”

“Okay. You know I’ve really heard his brother is nicer.”

Nat didn’t want nice. She wanted awkward. And she wanted to know what his tattoo meant. He’d had one on his chest, just under his vest. An eagle and some other stuff. She hadn’t gotten to really look at it. She’d been too busy nuzzling him and feeling safer than she had in forever.

It didn’t make a lick of sense, but it was true. And she wanted to touch him, to kiss him, and to see if she could do this thing. Sex. Damn it. She wanted sex, and she’d been too afraid to ask for it.

“I want him. But I don’t think I should want him.” Misery washed over her. He could be gone tomorrow. “Do you think he’s here with a sub?”

“I can assure you he doesn’t have a submissive. I don’t know much about him, but Julian told me he’s incredibly intelligent and well trained as a Dom. He takes it seriously. I don’t know that he takes sex very seriously. Julian did say he hasn’t been in a real relationship the whole time he’s known him.”

So he was available and not that into commitment. That wasn’t such a bad thing. It wasn’t like she wanted to marry him or anything. She just wanted to experiment a little.

She wanted to forget a lot. She wanted to erase the whole day. She knew she couldn’t do that, but she could forget for the night. She could lie down beside him and revel in that big body because Gaby was right. He was safe.

Julian Lodge was sort of like Satan. No one fucked with him. Julian didn’t care if a person hadn’t known they were fucking with him. He didn’t give passes or listen to logic. Tony hadn’t realized when he sold her to Hawk that he would come under Julian Lodge’s special brand of justice. After Julian had discovered Tony’s involvement in her slave stint, Tony had lost his job, found he no longer had a credit rating, and got his ass put on the no-fly list. He’d committed suicide rather than going to jail, and Nat didn’t feel bad about it. Certainly not after she’d learned she hadn’t been the only woman Tony had sold.

But Sir Dawson was Julian Lodge approved.

And he was so lickable it hurt. Her girl parts, which had seemed to be in a deep freeze, had come roaring back to life. Yes, Sir Dawson was a weirdo, but so was she. His awkward growl was practically a fucking mating call.

She had pink hair and a tongue piercing, and another little jewel in a place that might shock her tattooed hottie. They were a good, casual match.

She’d just never really done casual before. Despite her previous lifestyle, she’d only had sex with two guys, a high school boyfriend and a Dom she’d seen for a few months after college. What happened with Hawk didn’t count. She’d only chosen to sleep with two men.

Sir Dawson would make three.

But more importantly, he would mean she’d survived. But she still worried. “What if he doesn’t want me?”

Gaby sat down beside her, rubbing her shoulders in a way Nat wouldn’t have accepted a few hours before. “He wants you. He sat there holding you for half an hour. He wants you bad. He didn’t find another sub. He went to the bar. As far as I know, he’s still there. Nat, if you want him, you should take him, but there’s something you should know first.”

“He’s the investigator Julian sent.” She wasn’t stupid. A Julian-approved Dom showed up just as she was being investigated for murder.
Duh.

Gaby slumped a little. “You’re not mad?”

That Julian gave a shit? “No. Gaby, I didn’t do this. I didn’t know that Stan had a drug problem. I didn’t really know anything. He won’t find bad stuff on me.”

So it was okay to play around with him. Right? It was okay to lose herself in him, just for a night or for however long he stuck around.

Gaby put a hand over hers. “I know that, sweetie. I just don’t want you to ever think I would betray you.”

Nat understood the meaning of betrayal. Gaby hadn’t even come close. “I knew it when I pointed him out. Just tell me I don’t seem slutty.”

Gaby’s smile broke over her face. “Sweetie, you’re the least slutty girl I know. Go for it. Have fun. Live. I don’t know a single person who deserves a little happiness more than you. If Dawson moves you, if you feel a connection to him, then you should follow it. He’s not a dating kind of guy. He’s a D/s guy. I met Cal one night, slept with him because I knew he was the one for me, and then it all went to hell. And we still got married, and we still had kids, and we still have an amazing life. I wouldn’t take back the ‘mistake’ of sleeping with him for anything.”

It was a mistake. But it was one she was willing to make.

It was just a little pleasure. Just a little sex. She hadn’t had a male hand on her body for years until tonight, and she felt a little drugged by it.

She felt more like herself than she had in years. She leaned over and kissed Gaby on the cheek. “Are you having breakfast?”

“You know Saturday morning breakfast is sacred.” Gaby winked her way.

“Well, maybe I will be there this time and maybe I will be having breakfast in bed so don’t wait for me.” She stood up. A giddy joy rushed through her. It was stupid but it was her mistake to make. Hers. Not something forced on her by someone else or by her own fear. This was a stupid-ass mistake she would make because her pussy was attuned to Sir Dawson.

She walked out of the locker room and turned toward the bar, hoping he was still there and hadn’t left for his room where he’d assured her he would be masturbating to thoughts of her. And he’d taken her panties. They’d been in his pocket when she’d walked away from him. The thought of him pulling out her dumb-ass printed panties and playing with them should have creeped her out, but it was all a part of Sir Dawson’s weirdness.

And then she saw him. Big, strong, seemingly cold. He stepped out from the men’s locker room and put his hands on his lean hips as if he was looking for something—or someone. Her? She stopped, giving him a soft smile. He was a Dom. He deserved her softness since he’d given her his gentleness when she’d needed it most.

Sir Dawson stopped, a curious look coming over his face.

She took the initiative. He knew her background. He likely wouldn’t make the first move. “Hey.”

His lips curled up in the hottest smile. “Hi. Your hair reminds me of cotton candy. I like it.”

Yeah, he’d made that clear. It was one of the things she liked about him. He didn’t judge her on her not-so-normal hair choices. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything, sweetheart.” He seemed more relaxed, his whole body moving from tension to an anticipatory stance. “I’m looking for my brother, but he can wait. What can I do for you?”

“Let me make love to you.” That was as boldly as she could put it.

He shook his head as though to clear it, but then a sunny smile came over him. She’d brought that out in him. He’d been so closed off, but now he was grinning at her like he’d hit the lottery. It made it ridiculously easy to walk straight up to him and put her hands on his chest the way she had before, though she didn’t hesitate this time. She ran her hands up his abs, every single cut muscle a pleasure to her fingers. She pushed the vest back, looking at that sexy tat.

“What does it mean?” It was an eagle clutching a rifle, an anchor, and a trident. It looked very patriotic.

He leaned back just a bit, allowing her to see it fully. “It means I got my ass shot off in Afghanistan and various other foreign countries. It’s a SEAL tat. We get them when we leave active duty.”

She could buy that. A Navy SEAL. He’d fought for his country. A warrior. Maybe that was why she felt safe with him.

“Sweetheart, are you sure you want to play with me?” His hands came up, tracing the line of her jaw. “You should be careful.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” He hadn’t before. He’d given her exactly what she needed.

“No.” His thumb found her lower lip, his eyes catching there. “Not at all. Actually I’ve had a horrible day. I’ll be honest with you, I normally wouldn’t do this, but I’ll take it today.” He crowded her, leaning over. “Come up to my room. But not before you tell a friend where you’re going.”

She looked back at Gaby. “Gaby knows. She runs the place.”

He shot Gaby a smile. “Yeah, that’s good, sweetheart. Let’s go upstairs and hope my brother’s not hanging around. I heard he’s in the dungeon. He’s probably playing with a sub, but he can manage on his own for a night.”

She wondered about his brother, the nice one. But he was all she needed. “Can you kiss me, Sir?”

“How do you like to be kissed, sweetheart? I don’t know how your relationships work. Do you want it soft or rough?”

“I want it every way.” She wanted to lose herself. That was all.

He leaned over and pressed his beautiful mouth on hers. Men’s lips shouldn’t be so full and sensual. He was softer than she’d expected, but it was a revelation all the same. He didn’t pull her to him, rather let her cuddle up, her body molding to his. He had to lean over to kiss her, making her feel petite and delicate and feminine, a state she thought she’d left long ago.

He kissed her, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips, asking for entry. He was tentative, not at all the strong dominating presence of before, but she was okay with that. He knew her story. He was treating her with caution. One more reason to like the man.

“You’re awfully sweet.”

She felt sweet. “I’m in a mood, Sir. Take me to your room.”

He took her hand and led her away. Nat followed, her heart pounding. She was ready to find out just how far she’d come.

Ben hit the button for the tenth floor and wondered briefly what the hell the sweet-faced girl with the pink hair was doing, but then he saw the swell of her breasts and the way her eyes heated up and he didn’t give a shit.

Everything could wait. He’d known it the minute he saw her. A connection had sparked as if he already knew her. Sweetness. The word had played along his head, a little whisper he couldn’t ignore. She would be sweet once he got past her armor.

He could still feel Chase, but he ignored his brother’s pull. Chase was brooding. What was different about that? Chase was bemoaning his existence or drinking because he was bored. Ben wasn’t sure what had happened earlier. He’d felt an odd sense of contentment rush through his system, blanketing him in peace. It had to be Chase since at the time Ben himself had simply been pissed off because Georgia wouldn’t stop complaining about her broken nail. Now Chase was right back to his brooding self. It was a regular old Dawson Friday night. Being weirdly connected to his brother was the bane of his life.

But the girl with the pink hair was different.

He’d looked at her across the dungeon and his dick had leapt at the sight. She was different, and the way she looked at him made him feel ten fucking feet tall. She looked like she could eat him alive, and he would love the process of feeding her.

He needed this, and she’d shown up like freaking manna from heaven. He pulled her close, his hands sliding over the curve of her ass, and she winced slightly.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m still a little sore from earlier.”

Ah, now he understood what she was doing. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to help out a poor little submissive who’d been horribly treated by a Dom. It could happen for a lot of reasons. Sometimes the Dom wasn’t available sexually. Sometimes the Dom was just a nasty asshole who believed in withholding orgasms. Ben did not agree with withholding orgasms. Orgasms made the world a happier place. And he really wanted an orgasm. “Did some mean old Dom get you all hot and bothered and then leave you aching, sweetheart?”