Slave To Love (49 page)

“Taren was upset. I followed her out of the funeral home. I didn’t think it would take that long to calm her down.” Jace tried to keep his face straight.

“It is my fault. I got overwhelmed like when I was with Fear. I needed some air and some time.” Taren kept her tone low, almost like a whisper.

Kitty looked at her watch again. “Four fucking hours? Are you two insane?”

“Wait. I was told I had her all day. What does it matter what we did?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Because in case you’ve forgotten, we’re filming a TV show. We need the footage.” Kitty slapped Jace on his arm.

“We were at the funeral home for over an hour. You should have plenty of footage from that.” Jace adjusted his mask. He couldn’t wait to be rid of that thing.

Kitty pointed to Taren. “You, go upstairs and freshen up.” Then she pointed to Jace. “You get changed. Wear something you’d be comfortable going home in.” She stormed off.

Taren ran her hand over Jace’s shoulders. “No matter what she says, you’re not getting eliminated.”

He put his finger up to his lips. “Shh. Let it be a surprise.”

An hour later, Taren returned to the living room area where Jace, Fear, and Master Rock stood waiting for her. She wore a silver dress with a plunging neckline. Jace wanted to dive in and taste her again.

“Welcome.” Macabre stood next to Taren. “It’s that time. Taren, you’ve spent all day with each of these Doms. It’s time to choose who will be eliminated.”

Taren scanned over the men. “Master, will you please step forward?”

Jace blinked when she called his name. Damn, had she really planned to eliminate him? He took a step forward.

“I appreciate the wonderful day we had. You listened to me when I shared about my dream career of running a funeral home.” Taren smiled.

Jace heard some chuckles behind him but kept his full attention on her.

“This is a BDSM competition. I’m searching for my next Dom. Would that Dom let me do the things you did?” She took a deep breath. “Please step back in line.”

Jace took a step back, not sure what game Taren played here.

“Fear, please step forward.” She clasped her hands together.

Fear took a step forward. His glare spoke volumes.

“You scare me, but that’s not a bad thing. You push me to do things I never thought I would do. You’ve made me realize how strong I am.” Taren nodded.

Fear smiled like he had won the competition.

“But could I take a year of that treatment?” She shrugged. “Please take a step back in line.”

Fear stomped backward.

“Master Rock, please step forward.”

Rock adjusted his cuffs under his jacket before approaching Taren.

“I thought you were crazy for wanting to come back to this competition. And I really thought you had lost your mind when I played your 1950’s housewife. It was nice to let myself escape into a new persona. To be with you, would I have to be someone different?” She shifted in her spot. “Please step back in line.”

“Who are you eliminating, Taren?” Macabre asked.

****

“The person going home tonight is Fear.” Taren rubbed her hand up her arm. “I’m sorry. I don’t think you’re the Dom for me.”

Fear removed his mask. Under it hid a very handsome man. His rugged good looks kind of reminded Taren of her father. Same low and determined forehead. Similar noses. They both even had goatees.

Fear approached Taren. “Thank you for the opportunity.” He nodded. “That stuff I said to you the other morning about bullies and their victims…” He pointed to himself. “I was the bully.”

“I know.” She smiled. “Thank you for competing for me. You have no idea how much that meant to me.”

“That means Solo is eliminated as well.” Macabre pointed to the slave who stood next to Sweetheart.

The slave stepped forward. “I appreciate the opportunity to take part in this show.”

Taren hugged Solo. “I’ll miss you, Kandi. You tell it like it is.”

“I do.” She looked over her shoulder. “If you take my advice, go for Master Rock. The other one will break your heart.” Solo went to her room.

“Sweetheart,” Macabre began. “Your duties here have ended. Congratulations on being the last house slave. Of course that means you get the five-hundred thousand dollar prize.”

“Yeah, the money.” She struggled to smile. “Was kind of hoping to get more.”

“More money?” Macabre furrowed her thin eyebrows.

Sweetheart shook her head.

Before she left, Jace pulled Sweetheart to him and whispered something in her ear. She smiled and patted him on his arm before returning his ring.

“Thanks for that.” Sweetheart gazed at Taren. “Good luck with your decision. Hope you choose well.” She headed in the same direction as Solo.

“So the next step, folks.” Macabre stood in between the three of them. “Each Dom will go home with Taren to meet with her family.” She turned to Taren. “Who would you like to take home first?”

Taren smiled. “Master, please.”

“Very well. That will happen tomorrow. Master Rock will go with you the day after. On the third day, you’ll pick your Dom. Are you excited?” Macabre held Taren’s hand.

“I can’t believe this is all happening to me.” She smiled at both men. “I can’t wait.”

Although she seemed calm on the outside, Taren panicked on the inside. She hoped her parents like Jace as much as she did.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Jace didn’t know what to expect when he agreed to go to Taren’s parents’ house. He held her hand as they walked up to the door. Before he walked inside with her, she pulled her hand out of his grasp.

“I don’t want to show any favoritism.” Taren smiled.

Jace wanted to believe that excuse. He would wait to see how Taren acted with her family.

“We’re ready whenever you want to go in,” the camerawoman said.

Taren hesitated before she opened the door. She strolled inside with Jace behind her. He felt silly wearing his mask, so ridiculous that he stopped the crew at the door.

“Look, I want to meet these people without this mask. Can’t you all film me from behind?” Jace stared at the camera operator.

“The problem isn’t us. You’re not supposed to show your face to Taren.” She shook her head. “Sorry, dude.”

Fuck.

Jace walked into the house. As soon as he saw a tall, older African-American man staring at him with his mouth agape, Jace knew he lost his credibility. He would work hard to at least gain their trust and respect.

“It’s good to have you home.” An older African-American woman hugged Taren. She released an audible gasp when she spotted Jace.

Jace wanted to believe her shock came from seeing a group of people with camera equipment. He knew better.

“Great to be home.” Taren turned to Jace. “Mom, Dad, this is, um, Master.”

Christ.

Jace had forgotten about his BDSM moniker for the show, and they were still filming a show. He wanted so much to be introduced as Jace. Hell, he would have even accepted Christian Jace.

“What the hell?” Taren’s father put his hand over his mouth as he glared at Jace.

Jace threw his shoulders back and presented his hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

Her father hesitated. Once Taren nudged her dad, he put his hand out and shook Jace’s. “Nice to meet you. My name is Del. This is my wife, Connie. Excuse us if we don’t have cutesy names for each other like Master and Slave.”

“Dad.” Taren gritted her teeth.

“Nice to meet you.” Jace shook Connie’s hand. “I know this getup and this situation is unusual. Basically, your daughter and I are on a show that explores our personal lives. What’s done behind closed doors should be our business. But yet here we are.”

“Yeah, here we are.” Del sneered.

“Let’s all sit down.” Connie directed everyone to go to the dining room. “I made pot roast. I hope everyone likes that.”

“Yeah, you’re not a vegetarian or anything, are you?” Del kept a hard glare on Jace.

“No. Full carnivore here.” Jace smiled. For that, Taren smiled with him.

“Let me go get everything.” Connie headed to the kitchen.

“Let me help.” Jace followed her.

“Oh, no. You’re a guest,” Connie said from the kitchen.

“I’m also a gentleman.” He picked up the dish containing a magazine-cover looking pot roast.

He let her carry the rolls and salad.

“So you call yourself a gentleman but you allow my black child to call you Master. How does that logic work?” Del sat at the head of the table and looking like the king of his castle.

“Dad, I’m not a child. I’m a woman. I can make my own decisions.” Taren grabbed her father’s arm. “Please don’t do this.”

“What Taren calls me behind closed doors is really our business.” Jace took his seat at the other end of the table from him. He wouldn’t be backing down from this fight.

Del’s eyes widened. “No, you two are putting this on for the world to see. I don’t know what it is you do for money, but this will kill her chances at a career.”

Jace shook his head. “No, she’s already gotten a job offer since being on the show.”

This time Taren grabbed Jace’s arm. “No, don’t say anything.” She shook her head.

“Job offer?” Connie sat down. “Taren, what is he talking about?”

When Taren didn’t say anything, Jace answered for her. “Taren told me her dream to work in a funeral home. I took her to one and the owner offered her a job. She’ll start from the ground floor and work her way up.” He put his hand to Taren’s cheek. “It was great to see her so happy.”

“Jesus, now she has you on that funeral director stuff, too?” Del glared at his child. “I think your mother and I have been very patient with you. We’ve let you live your life because of your past. But this has got to stop. You have to stop risking your life and glamorizing death.”

“I’m not.” Taren’s voice almost sounded like a whisper.

“Speak up, Taren. I don’t think your parents heard you.” Jace wouldn’t allow her to wither. He’d seen her fighting spirit before.

“Don’t tell her what to do. This isn’t your castle.” Del pounded his fist on the table.

“Dungeon.”

Jace and Del looked at Connie when she managed to properly name the standard BDSM play area.

Connie shrugged. “What? I did some research after Taren said she was doing this thing.” She turned to Jace. “From what I read, you guys believe in keeping things safe, sane, and consensual, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jace nodded. “I’m not going to do anything Taren doesn’t want. It’s a partnership. I decide when we play. She regulates the action. She tells me when to keep going and when to stop.”

“I can’t listen to any more of this.” Del stood and started to head out the door.

“Stop!” Taren stood up.

Del made it to the entryway of the kitchen when he stopped and turned around to face Taren.

“Mom, the epilepsy scared me as a kid. It frustrated me as a teenager. But I’m managing it now. I take my meds.” She knocked her knuckles against the table. “Knock on wood, I haven’t had a seizure in months. I’m not going to let this condition define my life. If you view me that way, that’s your fault. I’m going to live my life the way I want to, and it could be because of my condition or it could be because it’s just the way I am. Either way, it’s my life. I have to live it on my terms and no one else’s.” She stared at her father, who still huffed and puffed as he stood by the kitchen. “Dad, even if I brought the pope here, I bet you would question his intentions, wouldn’t you? You’d probably ask why if he’s so close with God why does he have to ride in a bulletproof vehicle? What’s he hiding under that big hat? No one will be good enough for me.”

Del stepped into the dining room. “He’s degrading you.”

Jace started to stand but Taren put her hand on his shoulder.

“Only if I let him. He hasn’t and he won’t be disrespectful to me.” Taren looked down at him and held his hand. “You call me and Mom firecrackers because we’re short. I call him Master because in other aspects of his life where I’m involved, he’s very commanding. In his other life, he has a different name.”

“It looks like you’re exposing yourself more than him.” Del stood by Taren. “Why is her face exposed but yours isn’t?”

“She’s picking us based on what we do for her, not what we look like.” Jace felt his pulse accelerating the longer he had to defend himself.

Del glared at Jace for a long, uncomfortable moment before he sat down. “I don’t expect you to understand how I feel. This is my child. What you do is something I wouldn’t want for her.”

“Dad—”

Jace had to stop this now. “So you didn’t want your daughter to be with a man who respects her strength? You don’t want her to make decisions in her life?” He held her hand again. This time he wouldn’t let go. “I support her dreams, whatever they may be.”

Taren stared at Jace for a moment before she hugged him around his neck. “Thank you.”

“Lord Jesus, can we all pray and eat, please?” Connie fanned her face with her hand.

“Yes, please.” Taren sat down. “Mom makes the best pot roast.”

“I guess I’ll have to make something different tomorrow for your other fella.” Connie passed the bowl of salad to Jace.

He leaned over and said, “You can spit in his food if you want.”

Taren laughed. “That is not nice or funny.”

“And, yet, you’re laughing.” Jace handed her the salad.

After a terse opening, dinner went over well. Jace continued to defend himself and his relationship with Taren when he could. Connie seemed more on board than Del. Jace expected nothing less.

“So when you’re not doing this thing you do, what is it that you do for a real job?” Del finished off his meal and leaned back in his chair.

“I own a contracting company.” Jace had been checking his phone for the last couple of weeks. No messages from Rich LaMarca’s office. Guess that ship had sailed. Damn it.

“That’s nice. I own an insurance company. Done that since this one was a baby.” Del pointed to Taren.

Taren’s eyes widened. “Oh, you may know Master. He was at that builders’ event where they were giving out an award.”