by Lolita Lopez
“Because you’ve in leadership long enough to know that everything we do has an ulterior motive,” Pierce replied matter-of-factly. Pushing off the door, he said, “I’ll see what Tor has in mind for the shelter. He’s usually ten steps ahead of me when it comes to things like this.”
Raze watched Pierce leave and close the door before turning to Venom. “What do you think about the new ops phase?”
“I haven’t read through the entire file yet, but it seems like a clusterfuck. I get it. We need to colonize this planet and soon.”
“But?”
“I don’t want to see more violence and bloodshed down there. Most of the people down there are just trying to survive. They shouldn’t be caught up in the machinations between our forces, the Splinters and their own corrupt government.”
“Well, if our superiors have their way, we’ll replace their government with our own and eradicate the Splinters.”
“If only it were that simple,” Venom grumbled.
“If only,” Raze agreed, thinking of the colonization of other planets that had not gone so well. On the other hand, there were scores more success stories. Maybe Calyx would be one of them.
Shit.
Who the hell was he kidding?
It was going to be an absolute disaster.
Chapter Fourteen
Ella had just finished scrubbing the entire bathroom with the package of disposable wipes she found in a cabinet when a chime rang. She quickly cleaned her hands and walked to the door. She glanced at the monitor feed for the other side of the door and spotted Pierce waiting there. Remembering the need to be as inconspicuous as possible, she opened the door only a few inches and smiled at him before welcoming him inside with a silent gesture.
“Hey,” she said after closing the door behind him.
“I spoke to Raze earlier so he’s aware I’m visiting,” he explained hastily.
Ella rolled her eyes. “I don’t need Raze’s permission to have a visitor.”
“Actually, you do.” Pierce stepped further into the apartment. “It’s standard practice during the first thirty days.”
She blew a noisy raspberry and made a thumbs-down gesture. “Bullshit.”
Pierce laughed. “I agree, but it’s—”
“Tradition,” she interrupted with another roll of her eyes. “Maybe you guys need some new traditions.”
“Maybe,” he concurred, following her into the living area and taking the other chair.
“So, what’s the damage?” She pointed toward his face. “You must be hardheaded as hell to keep getting up after all these injuries.”
He grinned. “You sound like Risk. He’s pulled me off active duty again. I’m stuck in the HQ planning ops and filling out reports.”
She grimaced. “Sounds boring.”
“You have no idea.” Stretching out his legs, he said, “I’m really sorry about everything that happened. The fight and all of that.”
“You don’t have to apologize for any of it. I’m fine. You’re fine. That’s all that matters.”
“I appreciate what you did to keep me safe while I was knocked out, Ella. That was a ballsy move putting a knife to your neck.”
“And dumb,” she added. “I could have hurt myself badly.” She shrugged. “It’s done. We’re good.”
As if sensing she wanted to change the subject, he said, “Raze mentioned your shelter earlier. I’d like to offer my help in any way I can.”
“Yes. Definitely!”
“Good. Is there anything else I can help with?”
“I’ve been thinking about Hopper all morning,” she admitted. “I would really like to speak with her. I want to know that she’s actually okay.”
“I have a direct line to Danny. I’m sure he can arrange something for you.”
“I would really appreciate that, Pierce.”
He glanced at his wrist communicator and made a face. “I have to run.” Standing, he said, “I’ll reach out to Danny later today. I’ll give you an update as soon as I have one.”
“Thank you.” She walked him to the door and made sure it was secure before returning to the cleaning checklist in the manual. She wrinkled her nose at the number of things that still needed to be done. Did the other wives on the Valiant do this every single day? How dirty could a home get with only two people living in it anyway?
The guilt of how much she had relied on Dizzy hit hard. All those years, Dizzy had kept their living areas tidy and neat. She had never had to worry about her meals or her clothes. Dizzy had done all the heavy lifting without ever complaining much.
I can do this.
She read through the checklist again and moved back to the bedroom where she stripped the sheets and pillowcases. After folding them and slipping them into a laundry bag from a drawer next to the bed, she carried them into the kitchen and found the slot labeled for laundry. Opening it, she put the bag inside, closed the door and hit the green button.
A strange sucking noise followed by a thunk let her know it had worked. Impressed with herself, she returned to the bedroom and started opening the cabinets and drawers in search of clean sheets. Except, the longer she looked, the more panicked she became. Did Raze not have an extra set of sheets?
It suddenly struck her that the manual was written for married quarters and not for the bachelor section. Maybe Raze was only allotted one set of sheets? Maybe he was supposed to send them to the laundry early in the morning and get them back in the evening?
Shit.
Hoping clean sheets would be returned to their quarters before Raze came home, she decided to keep following the checklist. If she could salvage the situation by making sure the rest of their quarters were absolutely perfect, Raze would overlook her mistake. He would see that she was trying to make herself a suitable mate. Wouldn’t he?
But the more she tried to follow the checklist, the harder it got. She got the floor cleaning wipes mixed up with the ones meant for cleaning the metal surfaces in the kitchen. The strange streaks on the floor were glaringly obvious, but no matter how hard she scrubbed, they wouldn’t fade. Feeling desperate, she rearranged the heavy chairs in the living area, damn near throwing out her back as she pushed them into their new places.
After the floor disaster, she found the long vacuum hose hidden away in a wall panel and used it exactly as the manual instructed. Except she forgot she had moved the chairs, and while walking backwards, she knocked into one and fell on the floor, taking the hose with her. It attached to the skirt of her dress, and she fought to free the fabric from the extremely strong suction. When she finally succeeded, a large chunk of the skirt ripped free and disappeared down the hose. The wall unit began to make a strange horking noise, and she clambered to shut it down before she caused even more damage.
Standing there, panting for air in her torn skirt, she stared at the mess she had made. The chair would have to be picked up, and the floor streaks were even worse now that they had dried completely. There was a red light flashing ominously on the vacuum unit. She still didn’t have sheets for the bed.
I can’t do this.
She had been left alone for one day, and she had all but destroyed Raze’s home. She had utterly failed to prove herself as a mate. She couldn’t clean correctly. She couldn’t cook. She might not ever be able to give him children.
Feeling overwhelmed, she slumped down the wall and onto the floor. Tears stung her eyes as she wondered if George was right. Maybe she really was only good for one thing…
Chapter Fifteen
The last thing Raze expected to find when he walked into his quarters was Ella on the floor crying. His sharpened gaze scanned the room, spotting the knocked over chair and her torn skirt. Immediately, he feared the worse and rushed to her. Kneeling down in front of her, he cupped her face. “Who did this, Ella? Who hurt you?”
Mid-sob, she blinked up at him. “I did this.”
Taken aback, he brushed his thumb along her cheek. He couldn’t make sense of the me
ss and her crying and her torn clothing. “You? Why?”
Sniffling, she tugged his hands away from her face and wiped at her eyes. “I was trying to clean.”
Baffled, he looked around the room again. It didn’t look very clean, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. She looked absolutely gutted and embarrassed. “I guess it didn’t go so well?”
She sobbed loudly and hid her face behind her hands. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I tried. I wanted to prove that I could be a good mate, but I’m a fucking disaster.”
And then it all made sense. Glancing around his quarters now, he could see the streaks on the floor and the moved chairs. Beside her, the vacuum unit blinked angrily, and he wondered what the hell she had sucked into the hose. Looking down at her torn skirt, he had an idea.
Sighing and trying not to laugh, he dragged her hands down from her face. He ran his thumbs under eyes, wiping away the tears. “You are not a disaster. You don’t have to apologize for making a mess.”
Her timid gaze showed her disbelief. He realized that she honestly believed he would get rid of her for not being a prim and proper mate. Hating that her self-esteem was so low, he made a decision. She needed a little tough love. Low on the tough and high on the love, he decided.
“Stand up.” He grasped her hands and hauled her to her feet. “Now, turn around and look at the vacuum unit. Do you see the red button that’s blinking? Press it. That silences the alarm. Push the orange button. That resets the system. Plug the end of the hose back into the holster. Yes, like that.” He watched as she followed his directions. “See the yellow button? Push that.” A loud whir of pressure cleared the hose, and the system’s green ready light activated. “There. All fixed.”
“Oh,” she said, still sniffling. “I didn’t know it was that easy.”
“Now you do.” Turning around, he looked at the floor. “What happened there?”
She followed his pointing finger to the streaks. “Um, well, I sort of got the cleaning products mixed up and used the ones for the metal cabinets on the floor.”
“Come here.” He took her by the hand and led her back into the kitchenette. Opening a cabinet, he retrieved a thick microfiber cloth and handed it to her. “Buff them out with this.”
She stared uncertainly at the cloth. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” He pointed to the floor. “Fix it.”
“Yes, sir,” she murmured, probably not even realizing she had used the honorific. It was ingrained in her after all those years with George. He only hoped she didn’t see him the same way.
“Take off your panties,” he added as she reached the first streak.
She looked back at him with a mixture of shock and excitement. “Sir?”
“Your panties. Off. Now.”
She swallowed hard and set aside the cloth before doing as he had asked. She folded them neatly and put them on the nearest chair.
“Dress. Off.” He held her gaze, his own heated and wanting and hers blossoming with desire. She removed the damaged dress, folded and placed it on top of her underwear. He studied her body for a moment, making her shift nervously. Enjoying the way she was feeling off-kilter, he gestured to the floor again. “Hands and knees. Bottom toward me.”
She lowered herself to the floor in the most elegant and fluid motion. It was the kind of movement a man might spend months teaching his mate. She was in her element now, embracing the submissiveness within her and relishing his control and command. He wouldn’t abuse that control, and she knew it. She was showing him that she trusted him to be good to her.
Arms crossed, he watched her buff out the streaks on the floor. Every now and then, she would glance over her shoulder. He didn’t smile or frown. He kept his expression schooled to keep her on edge. When she got back to work, he let his gaze drift toward her wiggling bottom. Curvy and full, it was an ass that begged to be spanked until pink and hot. Not enough to bruise or leave her in pain. Never that much. But enough to get her excited and sensitive.
He adjusted his stance as his cock started to throb. Soon, he would get his relief, but first, she had to finish her chores. When she had cleaned the last streak from the floor, he held out his hand to help her stand. Taking the cloth from her hand, he pointed to the chairs. “Move those back.”
She hesitated. “Can you help me? They’re really heavy.”
Glad that she had asked for help, he nodded. “Of course, I can help you.”
Together, they returned the chairs to their places. He looked around the room to see if anything else needed to be fixed. Seeing nothing else out of place, he said, “I want you to shower and come back to me.”
“Yes, sir.”
She made her way to the bathroom, pausing on her way and looking back at him with a nervous expression. “Um, I should probably tell you that I kind of, sort of, sent your sheets to the laundry.”
“Laundry day for this section of the bachelor’s quarters is two days from now,” he explained gently.
“I didn’t know,” she murmured quietly.
“That’s all right. I keep an extra set on hand.”
“Where? I rifled through all the drawers and cabinets.”
“Here.” He walked to the bed and tapped the hidden drawer along the foot of the bed. “It’s built into the frame.”
“Handy,” she said, crouching down to grab the set of clean sheets.
He took them from her hands. “Shower. I’ll handle this.”
Nodding, she scurried away to the bathroom. Shaking his head with a mix of amusement and annoyance, he made the bed quickly. He tried not to imagine how big of a mess she would have made if he hadn’t come home early. Patting his pocket, he felt the outline of the thin white bridal collar he had picked up after leaving his office. He had planned to collar her without much fanfare, but after this, he figured she needed him to make an effort and prove that he wanted to keep her.
Out in the living area, he waited for her. His gaze drifted to the manual on the table. Picking it up, he scanned the pages and frowned. It was the biggest load of bullshit he’d read in a long time. Was this what the other wives were expected to do? He was almost certain Venom had never expected Dizzy to follow all these outdated rules. Naya would have set this manual of fire if Menace handed it to her. Even Venom’s wife, the embodiment of the perfect little mate, didn’t seem to follow a checklist like this.
“Utter fucking garbage,” he snarled and tossed it into the trash drawer.
“Did you just throw away my manual?” Ella asked, her eyes wide as she stood naked and clean in the living area.
“Yes, I did, and good fucking riddance.”
“But how I am going to learn to be a proper wife?” she asked, wringing her hands.
“You don’t need a manual to learn how to be my mate.” He crossed the distance between them and put his hands on her slim shoulders, marveling for a moment at how huge his hands looked on her body. “I want you to be you.”
“Even if this version of me is faulty and broken?”
“You are neither of those things, Ella.” Tipping up her chin, he gazed down into her beautiful face. “Do you want to play with me?”
“Play? How?”
“Adult games,” he said, a mischievous smile tugging at his mouth. “I still owe you a spanking from this morning.”
She swallowed nervously, but her eyes flashed with excitement. “I want to play with you.”
“Good.” He lowered his face to hers and kissed her tenderly. “The rules are the same as last night. You tell me to stop, and I stop. You don’t have to explain why or give me any justification. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
Taking her by the hand, he led her to the small dining table. Without warning, he grasped her by the waist and lifted her up onto it. She hissed at the cold metal touching her knees. It wouldn’t be comfortable for very long, but he wanted her to experience a mix of discomfort and pleasure. He wanted to heighten her senses.
Witho
ut asking, she presented her bottom. With her forearms folded against the tabletop, she rested her cheek on them. She widened her knees and kept her back at a sharp angle that thrust her bottom out for his enjoyment. With the overhead light, he could see the faint lines scarred there. His jaw clenched as images of her screaming in pain as she was beaten flashed through his mind.
With a gentle hand down her thigh, he asked, “Did he hurt you like this?”
“Sometimes,” she answered in a small voice. “He liked using straps and rods.”
“He liked to see you bleed.” It wasn’t a question. Raze knew exactly what George was after when he hit Ella. It wasn’t about finding that bite of pain that amplified pleasure. It was sadistic glee that spurred George to wound her.
Walking around the table, he crouched down until he could look her in the eye. Brushing loose strands of hair from her face, he said, “I don’t get joy from your pain. It would hurt me to hurt you. I’m going to spank you because you asked for it this morning. I’m only using my hand, and I don’t want to make you cry or bruise. This is just us, having a little fun and trying some new things together.”
She offered a shy, excited smile. “Okay.”
He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before rising and walking around behind her. Taking his time, he removed his boots and socks and then his outer uniform shirt and undershirt. Bare chested and in his tactical pants, he took a step closer to the table and placed his hand on her lower back. Ella shivered under his touch but kept her back arched and bottom presented.
Unhurried, he stroked her skin with his other hand. He swept it down her thighs and along the curve of her buttocks. Up her spine and along her shoulders. Down her ribcage. He squeezed her bottom, first one cheek and then the other before finally delivering a hard smack.
Ella inhaled sharply but held still. He saw her toes curl and smiled. She was ready. With one hand on her lower back to steady her, he let the other fall in a faltering rhythm of spanks. His hand moved from cheek to cheek but not in a pattern that she could discern. Two smacks on this side. Three on that side. One on each. He paused every now and then and rubbed her heated flesh, enjoying the pink blush coloring her ass.