Sybil Disobedience (2 page)

Kellon was one of the strongest willed men she knew, but he needed her help with letting her go.

She knew just who would assist her. Quickly, she scooped up the phone and dialed.

“Hey, Pete,” she greeted her friend when he answered. She’d known him forever, and he was just the man for this job. He wouldn’t like the idea at first, but she could convince him.

* * * *

That woman was the most infuriating female Kellon had ever met. And he wanted her permanently in his life, which was too bad for him, he supposed.

Fuming, his eyes narrowed and his arms crossed imposingly over his chest, he stood on the mezzanine overlooking the spacious lobby of
The Dungeon
and stared at the happy couples cavorting below him. Hmph. They acted as if they’d never hit a speed bump and the world and their relationships were perfect. And that only darkened his mood.

“Problem?”

Kellon didn’t glance over at his boss and friend, Rob Colvin, who ran and owned this establishment.

“She says she has a new Dom,” he grated.

“She’s lying.”

“Of course, she is, but I don’t know how to prove it. If she’d listen to me for five minutes…”

And that was only half the problem. She wouldn’t listen, so she’d never believe he’d been working past his hang-ups—well, he thought he was. He’d never actually spanked or flogged anyone. That privilege was reserved for Syb’s ass.

Angry with the situation, he glared at a Dom who led his sub through the lobby on a short lead. They slipped into a side alcove, and Kellon saw the woman go down to her knees. The man spoke to her, and immediately, her hands went to the closure of his pants.

“Perhaps, you should have one of your men come up here,” Rob suggested. “You’re going to scare the clientele.”

Kellon turned his irritated glare on his friend. “Are you suggesting I can’t do my job now?”

Rob held up his hands. “Hey, this is between you and Syb. Don’t turn it on me, and keep it away from the customers.”

“Sure. Will do, boss.”

They stood in silence for a moment before Rob continued. “If I were you, I’d find out who this new guy is.” His hands gripped the smooth wood rail in front of them. “And then I’d run him the hell outta town.”

Kellon nodded. That was exactly his plan. Syb was his, and whatever game she was playing, she damned well knew that.

* * * *

“Where’s my poppet?” a voice boomed across the costume shop just before the end of Syb’s shift. Pete… It’d taken some convincing, but he’d decided to help her though he disagreed with her methodology. It was only when she’d explained this was her last resort before leaving the job she loved that he’d consented—with the caveat that she make him more costumes for his own job.

That was no problem. She’d do what she had to, to make Kellon back off. Every time she saw him, her heart cried for what they couldn’t have. More and more, she felt herself weakening and ready to compromise for a half-life.

Pete’s presence would push Kellon away then maybe she could heal and truly move on. Butterflies slammed around her middle now that the first part of her plan was moving into action.

She’d left a message at the desk, telling them to let Peter McBride back here though he wasn’t a member of
The Dungeon
. No doubt, Kellon had heard. All guests’ names were vetted by security. And if it had anything to do with her, Kellon would feel it had to do with him, as well.

She blew out a breath. This was it.

 “I’m here,” she called, stepping from behind a rack of clothes. Hurrying, she crossed the shop. Pete stood just inside the open doorway, his legs parted to shoulder-width and his hands resting on his hips. Formidable if one didn’t know him. She wasn’t at all surprised to see he’d dressed in black leather pants and a black mesh shirt that made him look a bit like Tyr from that space show a few years back. In fact, as a graphic novelist who frequented fantasy conferences and such, that was his intention. Plus, he knew how she loved the way that shirt emphasized his muscles and beautiful caramel skin tone.

Too bad, they weren’t really into each other.

She dropped to her knees and bowed her head. “Master Peter, how may I serve you?”

Anyone who passed the shop would recognize this gesture. At
The Dungeon
, a sub wasn’t required to kneel to anyone but his or her Master.

“Very good, Sybbie,” Pete said. “Now, come up here and give me a hug.”

“Yes, Sir,” she replied. Standing, she went easily into her friend’s embrace. He was generally the same size as Kellon, and having those powerful arms close around her was heaven. With a content sigh, she breathed in Peter’s dark and spicy cologne.

His head dropped beside hers, and he whispered in her ear. “Glad to see you, sweet cheeks.” His fingers caught in her hair and he pulled back her head. “Have you been naughty today, slave?”

She caught a movement from the corner of her eye. Kellon. Biting her lip, she nodded.

“Very naughty,” she replied. She really had; she’d lied to Kellon.

“I’ll expect a full accounting of your transgressions over dinner,” he told her, clasping her upper arms and holding her from his body as he spoke. A slight move of his head and a sideways slide of his eyes indicated his awareness of Kellon’s presence. Acting as if he hadn’t heard a thing, he tugged her roughly to her desk and bent her over it with a hand to the back of her neck. A flood of arousal spiked through her—not because she was about to get spanked, but because she knew Kellon would see it. Kellon would witness how hot it got her.

“Sybil!” Kellon growled from the doorway, sending a wave of trembles down her spine. “What the hell is going on?” He stormed forward, shoved Pete aside then pulled Syb up and tucked her beneath an arm as if protecting her from the other man. His actions hissed “Mine” but he didn’t go as far as to say it.

Peter raised an eyebrow as he surveyed Kellon. “You must be the ex,” he said calmly, his words dismissive. “Kindly release my sub.”

“Over my dead body—”

“I’m sure it can be arranged,” the man interrupted dangerously.

“Leave, or I will have you removed.”

“You can’t do that!” Syb protested, trying to slip away from Kellon and seeing her hope of dissuading him fade away. Twisting her body, she slipped his hold then evaded him when he tried to bring her back to him.

“Kellon, cut it out!” she snapped. “You’re acting like a creepy stalker.”

“Creepy?” he repeated slowly, and she saw fury roiling in his eyes. He didn’t bother to hide his emotions from her, and for the first time, she wished he would. His intense stare flipped her stomach as it zeroed in on her. “I’m
acting like
someone who cares about you and wants to work things out.”

She shook her head, fighting to remain unmoved. “It’s too late.”

“I’ll leave,” Pete offered, stepping forward. “With
my
sub. Syb’s not a prisoner, despite this place being called
The Dungeon.
She’s mine now; accept that, man.”

Kellon scowled at the man, knowing he had no choice right now. “I’ll never accept that,” he said, his voice flat.

He leveled his gaze at Syb once more, letting her know this was far from over. He’d leave, but he wasn’t finished with her by a long shot. If Syb wasn’t bent on this farce of a scene, he’d kick this man out on his ass and never let Syb near him again. No one touched Kellon’s woman. As it was, unparalleled horror had filled him when he’d watched Syb fall to her knees before another man. Crushing loss twisted in his gut. This wasn’t happening. She was his. He couldn’t
let
it happen!

“Kellon,” Syb said quietly. “Let me go. It’s time. You have to know that.”

Know that? It wasn’t anywhere
near
time! A million years from now would be too soon. But he couldn’t force her to be with him. He wasn’t a psychopath or the “creepy stalker” she’d just accused him of being.

Feeling as if shards of glass were ripping through his veins, he stepped away from Syb and Peter then walked from the room without a backward glance, without a word.

Thoughts of what would happen sickened him as he stepped into the corridor. His head throbbed and bile rolled into his throat. For the first time in his career, he didn’t check out with his team; he just walked from the building, kept on to his car, then got in and drove.

He didn’t know where he was going, but soon, he’d left both the city and the suburbs behind. As he raced down the highway, caring little for speed or the possibility of a ticket, he soon found trees and empty expanses thickening around the road.

By rote, he took a familiar turn-off and after a short drive found himself on the way to his house. It should have been their house. They’d been set to close on it just a week after the breakup, and sometimes, he wondered if the stress and permanency of that had pushed Sybil to end things.

He parked in front of the Victorian house then climbed the steps to the wraparound porch and the swing that hung to one side, overlooking a burbling stream. Slouching onto the white painted slats, he propped a foot on the porch rail and stared at the rushing water. The choppy current seemed murky beneath the iron-gray clouds overhead. It would be full-on night soon, but Kellon doubted the moon would show through the atmospheric coverage. He had to admit, it felt a bit like his life—no light in the darkness.

He almost wished he could kidnap Syb and bring her here and make her see reason, in much the same manner as Rob had done with his wife once upon a time. But Kellon knew that would never work. Syb had to choose to be with her Dom—and that was him, no matter what bullshit she was spouting now.

“Utter bullshit,” he muttered to himself, echoing his thoughts. He scowled, hating melodrama and hating the way he felt. He wanted to hate Syb for doing this to him, too, but he couldn’t. He understood. She’d needed more from him, and she didn’t believe he could provide it.

His chest tightened as his fingers flexed. What would she think if he gave her what she wanted? Would it be too late? As much as he wanted to forget the man, there was no denying Peter’s presence. Nothing could cut Kellon the way seeing Syb with another man had.

But something was off in Peter and Syb’s so-called relationship. It wasn’t sour grapes that had Kellon discerning an oddity there. He hadn’t become head of security without developing a sixth sense about situations, and something was just
wrong
with that coupling.

Rising, Kellon headed for the house and pulled out his cell phone. Before the day was out, he’d find out everything there was to know about Peter McBride. By tomorrow morning, Friday, he’d know exactly what he was going to do about Sybil.

He glanced around, smiling at the lack of neighbors. Perhaps kidnapping, of a sort, wasn’t too farfetched.

Chapter Two

Syb couldn’t be happier that it was Friday. Lately, it had become more and more difficult to be at work. If it wasn’t for necessary client interaction, she’d ask if it were possible for her to work from home. Rob had recently intimated that she might be able to hire an assistant. Since Syb was the main designer of the costumes, perhaps she could bring on someone to act as a “front room” receptionist, while she spent half if not most of her time away from here.

Not that she disliked
The Dungeon.
She loved her co-workers, even Kellon, and that was the problem. As if summoned by her thoughts, he stepped through the costume shop’s front door as she was processing garments that had been returned from the cleaners. Her heart sped up as he turned the lock. Stepping away from the rack of clothes, she watched him turn while she silently waited.

What now?

“Kellon—”

“Silence,” he snapped, though his face remained utterly calm. He seemed far less disturbed by their situation than he had last night. “On your knees,” he growled.

Immediately, her pussy went damp, her womb tightening on a harsh quiver. Still, she didn’t move.

“Now, Sybil,” he ordered.

Well, hell…

They stared at each other, Kellon implacable, Syb unwilling and confused. When it became apparent he wasn’t leaving nor giving an inch, she reluctantly dropped to her knees on the shop’s terracotta tiles. Belligerent to the end, she crossed her arms and glared at him.

His raised brow was the only response. The flooring bit into her knees as they faced off, neither giving quarter. Meanwhile, he seemed perfectly happy to stand over her and wait. She knew she wasn’t getting off her knees until he was good and ready. Sighing to make it clear to him that she moved under duress rather than submission, she slid her hands to the small of her back and lowered her chin a notch.

“I’ve learned a few things,” he said moments later, rewarding her compliance.

“Really?” she asked, sarcastically. It wouldn’t surprise her if he’d checked on Pete. She’d halfway expected it. “Let me guess. Someone’s taught you how to push around other people’s subs. They’ve fed you some bullshit about all women submitting to you, whether they’re yours or not.”

Irritation flashed momentarily through his eyes, but he remained otherwise unmoved. “Do you really want to send me down this road?”

“What are you going to do? Spank me?” she retorted. Done with the game, she started to get up.

His hand flattened on the top of her head, holding her in place. “Right about now, I wouldn’t give you that pleasure.”

Everything went still inside her. What did he mean by that?