Knot a Chance: Doms of The Covenant Book 3

by Samantha A. Cole

  Stefan wondered if that was something Cassie would like to do someday . . . with him. He scrubbed the thought from his mind. He had other things he needed to think about than an unrealistic fantasy. Cassie had her whole life ahead of her with a new career and no health issues. She wouldn’t want to be with a Dom who could drop dead before he was forty.

  “Guess I don’t have much choice. Have you told my command yet?”

  “No. Thought you’d want to do that when you’re ready.”

  He didn’t think he’d ever be ready, but he appreciated Lowe leaving it up to him to tell his staff in the Incident Management Division. “Thank you, sir. I’ll need a few days to wrap my head around this. I’ll let you know when I’ll make the announcement.” Picking up the box of San Lotano Requiem Maduro Toro cigars he’d brought in with him, Stefan got to his feet and handed it to Lowe. “It’s been an honor and a privilege to serve under your command, Captain. Since cigars are on my list of things I’m no longer allowed to enjoy, I thought you’d like to have these. Sorry, but there’s two missing—had them before the heart attack.”

  Lowe grinned and accepted the box before standing. “I have to admit, your medical issues have me rethinking some of my own habits, but these are too good to pass up. Thank you, Commander. It’s also been my honor and a privilege to have you under my command all these years.”

  Stefan snapped to attention and saluted. “Thank you, sir.”

  The captain returned the salute. “Dismissed, Lieutenant Commander.”

  17

  Cass searched for the ringing cell phone in her purse as she walked from the parking lot, across the quad, to the building her Intro to Biology class was in at the Griffin College of Nursing in St. Petersburg. It was typically a forty-minute drive from her apartment near Tampa General Hospital to the school. Thankfully, her 7:00-3:00 p.m. shift in the rehab unit gave her enough time to go home, shower, eat, and relax for a little bit before she had to leave again for her six o’clock class. This evening, however, traffic had been on her side, and she’d arrived five minutes earlier than usual.

  Finding the phone, she pulled it out and answered when she saw it was her younger sister calling from New Jersey. “Hey, Chris.”

  “Hey, Cass. Did I . . . um . . . did I call at a bad time?”

  Cass stopped her forward momentum, closed her eyes, and inwardly sighed. Whenever Christine started a conversation off like that, and sounded as if she’d been crying, it was never good. “Um, I have a few minutes, but I’m walking into class soon. What’s wrong?” She bit back the urge to add “this time.”

  There was a long pause, and for a moment, Cass thought they’d been disconnected before Christine spoke. “I left him for good, Cass.”

  Opening her eyes, she glanced around and saw an unoccupied bench nearby. Striding over, she took a seat and exhaled heavily. “What happened, this time?” She hadn’t been able to stifle the urge again.

  Cass already knew the answer to the somewhat rhetorical question. Chris’s husband of seven years was a lying, cheating bastard who couldn’t keep it in his pants. They’d eloped right out of high school, despite both families’ objections, and Randy had begun cheating on her about two months after the ink was dry on their marriage certificate. For some stupid reason, Christine kept taking him back. Thankfully, there were no children involved—she’d been smart enough to stay on her birth control.

  “Don’t say it like that. I mean it this time. I packed up everything I own and moved in with Maureen.” Well, that was something new. Usually, Chris went to their mother’s when she was “leaving” Randy, but only took a suitcase full of stuff and said she’d go back for the rest later. Bringing everything she had and moving in with her best friend since second grade was something she’d never done before. “I’m done with him. He got some eighteen-year-old skank pregnant.”

  “Seriously?” Cass’s eyes widened as she checked her watch. She had a few minutes before she had to be inside. “How’d you find out?”

  “She knocked on my door the other day and told me.”

  “And you believed her? Just like that? Don’t get me wrong—I wouldn’t put it past Randy to be so careless and stupid.”

  The sound of a door shutting came over the phone. “At first, I didn’t believe her. I just thought it was another one of his affairs thinking he’d leave me for her. But she showed me the ultrasound, and when I said that could be anyone’s, she told me to call her gynecologist while she stood there. When I did, she gave the nurse who answered permission to confirm the pregnancy. The skank wants me to divorce him so she can marry him. I told her he’s all hers. Mom’s lawyer friend Julie started the divorce process for me this morning.” Chris started sobbing. “I-I don’t know wh-why I stayed with him, Cass. Wh-why didn’t I listen to you and Mom?”

  Cass’s heart broke for her sister. “Because you loved him and thought he’d change for you. I’m sorry he didn’t, but you’re doing the right thing. You deserve to be happy and find someone who treats you like a queen.”

  So did Cass. These last few weeks, Stefan and she had grown closer than they’d ever been before, and yet their relationship had become totally platonic. She wasn’t sure why he kept inviting her over, but she found she couldn’t turn him down. Maybe she was a glutton for punishment, but she tried to convince herself she went there to help him get better, but that wasn’t true—she kept going because she’d missed him too.

  There had been no sex, no play, no nothing between them—not even a kiss on the cheek. Instead, there had been heated stares from him when he thought she didn’t see them and utter longing on her part for what they had now to be combined with what they’d had before. When she’d gone to his townhouse for dinner several times, and hadn’t been studying or watching a movie with him, they’d talked—really talked for the first time since they’d met. He’d told her about his grandfather, who’d taught him how to tie nautical knots, which had led to Stefan’s love of Shibari. They’d exchanged what their favorite things were—food, colors, etc.—and discussed current events, their own pasts, and the futures they dreamed of. Cass, of course, had held back some of those dreams from him, considering he starred in many of them.

  “I know,” her sister replied. “And someday, down the road, I’ll start dating again. For now, though, I don’t want to even look at another man.” She huffed out a breath. “Anyway, enough about me. How’s that guy you’ve been seeing? Stefan, right? Are you still together?”

  “Listen, Chris,” she said, when she noticed a few classmates hurrying toward the entrance to the building. She was glad to have an excuse to avoid responding to the question she had no answer to, realizing she hadn’t told her mom and sister she’d broken up with Stefan. Since they rarely came to Florida, had never met him, and were constantly asking if she was seeing someone, Cass had lied a little and told them she and Stefan had been dating. It’d also been wishful thinking at the time. “I have to get to class, but I’ll call you later. Maybe you could come down here for a visit, you know, to get a change of scenery.”

  “I’d love that, Cass, thank you.” She sniffled. “I love you, sis.”

  “Love you two, sweetie. Tell Mom I’ll call her tomorrow.”

  “I will. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  Cass disconnected the call and rushed to class, only to find out the instructor hadn’t arrived yet. Seeing her usual seat available next to Alyssa Hawthorne, Cass grabbed it and set her books down. “Hey, girl. What’s up?”

  The nineteen-year-old smiled at Cass. “Not much. I had an early dinner with Jake and Nick before coming here. I swear those two are so cute together, and that’s not a word I ever thought I’d use for Jake.”

  She snorted as she organized her purse, phone, bottle of water, pens, textbooks, and notebook. Alyssa was so sweet. While she’d heard some ugly rumors about how horrible the young woman’s father had been, she wasn’t sure how much of it was true, so she chose to believe only what Alyssa had told h
er one night over coffee after class. Three years ago, Jake Donovan had helped Alyssa and her mom get away from a physically abusive father/husband—Cass didn’t know the extent of the abuse—arranging for them to get new names and live somewhere else. Unfortunately, a year later, the bastard had somehow found them again and paid someone to kill them. Alyssa had managed to escape and contact Jake to help her. He’d brought her to a safehouse somewhere in the Carolinas. Then, he and Nick, his husband/submissive and brother to Ian and Devon, had rescued Alyssa when her father had tried a second time to kill her, and Nick had been shot in the process. Thankfully, he’d recovered, and Alyssa’s father had been killed instead. Since the young woman had no family left, the parents of Ben “Boomer” Michaelson had stepped in, offered to be her guardians, and recently moved with her to St. Petersburg. Ben was another operative at Trident and a Dom at the club. Cass had played with him many times before his high-school sweetheart, Kat, had come back into his life and they’d fallen in love again and gotten married. Ben now considered Alyssa his sister, a fact she loved. She was also very close to Jake and Nick and saw them often. They’d been there for her every step of the way after all that nastiness had gone down. Recently, Jake had helped her petition the courts to change her surname from Wagner to Hawthorne, her mother’s maiden name, when she’d turned eighteen, since the former had been her father’s name and she’d refused to keep it.

  “What did they do that was cute? And you’re right, cute is not a word for Jake. Nick? Yes. Jake? No.” While both men were incredibly handsome, Jake was the broodier and quieter one and nine years Nick’s senior. Nick was the vibrant, funny one who’d brought some much-needed light into his husband’s life.

  “Did you know they’re talking about either adopting or using a surrogate?”

  Cass grinned and lowered her voice as their instructor walked in the door. “I know. I’m so happy for them—they’ll make great fathers.” A vision of a little boy with Stefan’s soft, brown eyes floated into her mind. She could imagine Stefan teaching his son how to tie knots just like his grandfather had taught him. Her heart ached that she wouldn’t be the one to give him a child. Yes, he wanted her—she knew that—but only in a Dominant, sexual way. What would she do if Stefan met someone who could change his mind about long-term relationships? Someone who he’d sign an open-ended contract with? It would kill her to see him with someone else. She’d been right when she’d said her safeword and ended their monthly renewable contracts. And all she was doing now was setting herself up for more heartache. She’d been using the excuse of helping him recover from his heart attack as the reason she’d been seeing him so much, but he really didn’t need her. He’d made the lifestyle changes the nutritionist and cardiologist had suggested. He was eating healthy, getting stronger in rehab, taking his medications, getting rid of his cigars completely, and cutting down on his scotch. Stefan didn’t need her for any of that—all he wanted was to top her and play with her—and it was best she withdrew from his life again before she lost her heart to him once more. But Cass feared it was already too late for that because she’d never gotten it back from the last time.

  “How’s the lieutenant commander doing?” Alyssa asked while the instructor spoke to one of the students in private. She’d met Stefan a few times at parties at the TS compound. While she’d found out there was a BDSM club there, she was still in the dark about who actually belonged to it. She knew the Trident owners and most of their employees and their significant others were members, since they were part of her extended family now. However, she wasn’t privy to who else was, unless they’d told her or spoken about the club in front of her. Cassie had admitted she was a member as she’d gotten to know Alyssa, and the younger woman had figured out Stefan was one as well, but she didn’t know the two had been in a D/s relationship for ten months.

  “He’s doing well.” As far as Cass knew, that is. He was supposed to have had a meeting with his captain this morning, but she didn’t know how it had turned out. She knew Stefan hadn’t been looking forward to it, and he’d been kinda quiet last night during dinner. Cass had texted him that morning, wishing him luck, and then again, a few hours later, asking how the meeting had gone, but he hadn’t responded to either.

  “You know, you two would make a cute couple.”

  Before she could respond, the instructor announced the start of class. Thank God. She didn’t want to think about her and Stefan as a couple—couldn’t think it—because there was not a chance in hell of that happening.

  18

  Pulling into Stefan’s complex, Cass couldn’t stop worrying about him. He hadn’t been at rehab since last Friday, and today was the second session he’d missed. Oh, he’d called and told the cardiology department’s secretary that he was just feeling a little under the weather and he’d be back soon, but Cass was finally calling bullshit. He hadn’t answered the voice mails she’d left, checking up on him, and her texts had always been met with short, curt responses, such as, “I’m fine. Can’t talk right now.” She’d waited impatiently for more dinner invites, but those hadn’t been offered. Ever since his meeting with his captain, Stefan had shut down, and it was time for Cass to find out what was going on. She might not be his sub or his lover anymore, but, damn it, she was his friend, and friends stood by each other through thick and thin. Whether Stefan liked it or not, she was butting her nose into his business.

  Climbing out of her parked car, she waved at the four boys playing basketball two driveways down. They grinned and waved back.

  “Hey, Cassie!”

  “What’s up, Cass?”

  “Hi, Cassie!”

  “Looking good, Cassie!”

  Uh-huh. That last comment had come from Kenny Cooper—she bet he was popular with the girls at his school, the flirt. He was probably a man-whore in the making, but she doubted that would stop the ladies from falling at his feet.

  Instead of going straight to Stefan’s townhouse, she detoured toward the boys. “Hi, guys. Have any of you seen Stefan the last few days?”

  They all looked at each other and then back at her. Marty Briggs was the one who shrugged and spoke up. “Not since last week. If we did, we would’ve told him to bugger off if he tried to join a game.” The last was said with a grin.

  Cass laughed for the first time since she’d left work on her way here. “And I thank you for that. I’ll let you know when he’s allowed to play again.”

  After saying goodbye, she strode up the walkway leading to Stefan’s townhouse and knocked on his door. When there was no answer, she pounded harder. “Stefan, I know you’re in there. Your truck’s here. Open up, because I’m not going away until you do.” God, she sounded like a stalker or a bitchy ex-girlfriend. Hopefully, his neighbors didn’t think that too and call the cops. “Stefan! Please? I’m worried.”

  The door swung open, and Cass couldn’t believe her eyes. Stefan looked like shit. His eyes were bloodshot, he was unshaven with far more than a five o’clock shadow, and his clothes looked like he’d been in them for a few days. He swayed, and Cass lunged forward to grab him. Holy shit, he reeked of stale beer and sweat.

  Her eyes narrowed as she steadied him. “Stefan, are you drunk?”

  “Yup, I sure am. Come on in for a drink, babe.”

  Babe? He’d never called her that before, and she didn’t like how degrading it sounded coming from his mouth. She preferred when he called her his little pixie. “Um . . . I’ll come in, but I’ll pass on the drink.”

  “Sssssuit yourssself,” he slurred.

  When she cleared the threshold, he closed the door then staggered into the living room where he picked up a beer bottle and took a long swig. His place was a mess—beer bottles, half-filled plates, newspapers, unopened mail, and bags and containers from fast-food places were everywhere. This was not the man she knew. The real Stefan was a bit of a neat freak, probably as a result of his time in the Coast Guard.

  “What’re ya doin’ here?” He eyed her salaciously.
“Wanna play?”

  Oh, boy, he was so freaking drunk if he’d asked her that question without reservation. In the past, if they were going to play, Master Stefan never had more than a sip or two of wine during dinner and never drank at the club before a scene. Even though there was a two-drink allowance at The Covenant prior to play, he’d always took his role as a Shibari Master seriously and stayed sober until aftercare had been properly administered.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, S—” The title Sir almost slipped out, but then she’d thought better of it. He wasn’t acting like a responsible Dom, at the moment and, therefore, didn’t deserve the respect of one. “Why haven’t you been to rehab since last week? You need it to help you recover.”

  “What for?” he spat out while glaring at her. “My career’s over. What’d am I supposed to do now? Twiddle my fucking thumbs?” Again, he swayed but clumsily grabbed hold of the fireplace mantel before she could intervene. “Life sucks, so why bother with rehab?”

  Rage roiled through her. Was he saying that if he couldn’t be a Coastie there was no point in living?

  Balling her fists, she stepped forward into his personal space, ignoring the height difference between them. Right now, she felt as if she were towering over him, even though the opposite was true. “How dare you! Do you realize how many people never get a do-over in life? You did! You were brought back from the dead for a second chance, and you’re throwing it away like it doesn’t matter. So, your carefully structured life isn’t going the way you planned. Well, get over it, Stefan.” When he growled at her, she shook her finger in his face, not letting him get a word in edgewise. “Don’t even think of pulling that Dom attitude on me. You’re not acting like a Dom right now, and I’ll be damned if I’ll stand here and call you Sir or Master. I may be a sexual submissive, but that doesn’t make me a doormat. You have people who care about you—I care about you. So do your parents, your sister, and all your friends and coworkers. Do you know how many people rushed to the hospital, or kept calling for updates, while you were in surgery? A fucking lot, I’ll tell you that! People made sure your folks were taken care of. They sent food over. They offered to help out any way they could. They fucking prayed for you, because they didn’t want to lose you—you’re that important to them. And, now, you’re drinking, not coming to rehab, and doing God knows what else to put yourself back in the hospital or an early fucking grave.” She stomped her foot. “How dare you! Well, you know what? I’m not going to stand here and watch you throw your life down the drain, Stefan. You know why? Because it hurts too damn much.”