by P Nelson
As If The Whole World Were Watching
P. Nelson
Copyright 2018 by P. Nelson
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any way whatsoever without written permission of the publisher except for brief quotations used in a book review.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious.
Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
First Printing, 2018
Somewhere a bell tolled and a destiny you had no idea was yours ground into motion
Reading Order of the Dom’s of The Cage Series
Take My Hand - Book One
Our First Dance – prequel novella
The Rehabilitation of Master Dillon – prequel novella
The Heart of the Matter – Book Two
What We’re Meant to Be – Book Three
With or Without You – Book Four
Wicked Game – Book Five
As if the Whole World Were Watching – Book 6
Chapter One
Calla Jones opened the door of the sleek black Bentley. She had never in her life ridden in a car that was worth more than some people’s houses. With one elegant five-inch black heel planted on the uneven sidewalk, she pushed herself up and stood in the early morning sunlight, very large black sun glasses place, just in case there was a photographer lurking around the corner.
“You‘re supposed to wait for me, madame.” The driver admonished with a slight accent. He was a Kiwi or an Aussie, although she had no way to figure out the driver’s nationality this morning.
“It’s better I don’t become accustomed to having you open doors for me.” She smiled at the man. He ducked his head, and she detected a light blush.
“If you say so, madame.” He waited until she stepped away from the door before closing it. The driver walked around to the back of the car and Calla followed her companion, Linkin, and walked around the hood of the car. His eyes were everywhere at once. Calla understood that Linkin had even positioned people around the marina to ensure her departure went as smooth as possible.
“Few people around Granville Island this morning.” Calla let out a long breath pulling her jacket closed against the slight breeze.
“You don’t know that.” Linkin replied with his customary curtness. She held out her arm and Linkin allowed her to wrap it around his forearm. He steered her towards the gangplank down to the exclusive yacht club where Flynn Banroch moored his boat.
“Do you think all this is necessary?” She questioned as they reached a gate. Linkin spoke to a man dressed in a security uniform who let them through swiftly. The driver following behind at a discreet distance with Calla’s required luggage.
“Yes.” Linkin remained vigilant as they swept down the steep dock to the water. They passed several large vessels that looked like they could hold a football team. Calla stared. Some people possessed way too much money. They turned a corner on the docks and Calla spotted two men waiting next to a boat. A boat so big she couldn’t see the whole thing.
“Are you kidding me?” She stopped walking. Linkin pulled on her arm.
“No, no one is kidding and come along, I don’t like being exposed out here in the open.” Linkin nudged her alone.
“Is this a fucking joke?” She twisted around to face Linkin. He stared down at her with a frightening expression she never wished to see again.
“When was the last time you heard me tell a joke?” Linkin wrapped his hand around her upper arm. “Don’t tempt me to bend you over my knee and give you the spanking you deserve for swearing. I appreciate you signed a contract with Master Flynn last night.”
“I’d have to consent to a spanking, Master Linkin.” Calla held her ground. She might have been a newbie sub when she first worked at The Cage as their psychologist, she’d worked through her sub issues to stand up to the dominants Her experience dealing with Master Flynn taught her most of what she needed to survive unscathed from an encounter with a Dom and not end up broken.
“Oh little subbie.” Master Linkin bent his tall, large frame over so he could stand nose to nose with her. It was a little disconcerting, but remembering he was in a committed relationship with his partners Martin and Delaney helped to slow her racing heart. Even if it didn’t stop the blush from forming on her cheeks as she held her own against this one very bad ass Dom. “I can make you beg for it. Shall we try?”
“No, Master Linkin.” The words were low. Calla fought not to placate the man in front of her.
“Good. Because if you recall a sadistic serial killer almost kidnapped you. What do you think that would have done to your master?” Linkin pressed, his breath warm on her face.
“He wasn’t my Dom.” Calla lost ground fast, all the hard won composure she struggled for over the last few months slipping away under a barrage of stress. All of it cantered on Master Flynn.
“Whatever you tell yourself subbie.” Linkin stood back up. Calla sighed with relief. “My first job of the day is to get you safe on board the yacht.” He pointed down the wharf. “Would you like a list of all the other things I have to do today aside from catch someone who financed a serial killer?” Calla shook her head.
“I need a verbal response sub.” Linkin voice was uncompromising.
“No, Master Linkin.” Calla held back her tears by sheer force of will. The driver was right behind her and two crew members still stood at the end of the wooden platform.
“Good. Because if you think this is hard Calla, you do not understand what you’re in for when Master Flynn arrives.” Linkin let go of her upper arm and allowed her to twine her forearm through his again. This is only hard because I love him, she thought, but Calla said nothing else as she neared the two men at the end of the pier.
“Dr Jones. Welcome aboard The Reliant.” One man waved to the gangplank leading onto the biggest boat Calla had ever seen. There were several decks and a helicopter towered above them.
“Thank you.” She smiled at the man with the great tan who had spoken.
“My name is Ron and if you need anything while on board, please let me know.” His kind brown eyes were set in a round face warm with welcome.
“I will.” Calla turned to Linkin. His face was a mask of stone once again. She was embarrassed as her throat tightened and she threatened choked up.
“Thank you, Linkin.” She didn’t use his honorary title, not knowing how much Flynn’s staff were aware of his alternative lifestyle. “I’m not ungrateful.” She looked away as Linkin gave her his full attention.
“You go deep, Calla Jones.” Linkin’s voice was a knife-edge. “You need to go so fucking deep you feel like your heart is being carved from your chest, but you don’t give a single fuck because you recognise that your heart will be in good hands.”
“But what if it’s not?” Calla didn’t bother to hide her tears. “We both know I can’t trust him.”
“Do you want to live in a world where you were the one who didn’t make the effort?” Linkin’s pale blue gaze stripped Calla of all her armour. There was only one other man who could do that, and they were talking about him.
“The last time-“ Calla started. Linkin stood up to his full height and pulled a pair of mirrored aviators from one of his pockets. He placed them on his face.
“Fucking deep.” He repeated. “Get your ass on the boat so I can get back to my job.” Calla realised Linkin dismissed her as she stared up at him.
“Thank you.” She said again.
“You don’t see it
, Dr Jones, but things are changing.” Linkin waited for her to climb onto the gangplank leading up to the yacht. Once she was on board, he spoke with Ron and the other man, waving the driver on board with Calla’s luggage. Calla remained on the rear deck and watched Linkin depart, her last link to a world she understood. Calla stared around at the subdued opulence around her and realized there would never be a time she would belong on this yacht.
“I’ve placed your luggage in the owner’s stateroom as requested, Dr Jones.” The driver smiled and nodded his head at her. She wanted to correct him. There was no need for her to have a cabin at all, let alone the owner’s cabin. Flynn always made it sound like his island estate was close to Vancouver. However, this was not something she would take up with the driver.
“Thank you so much. Have a good day.” Calla did her best to be gracious and warm.
“Enjoy your trip.” The man replied. Calla watched him return to the dock and walk away. Not wanting to go inside, Calla found a comfortable looking couch set into one wall of the yacht. A warm looking throw was tossed over a set of pillows and she grabbed it. Shucking her shoes off, Calla curled up on the sofa and waited. She would enjoy the great view of Granville Island and she might glimpse Master Flynn when he arrived.
It felt like an eternity before another expensive car pulled up to the pier. The back door opened and Flynn appeared. He stood up and fixed his suit jacket. Even though he was several meters away and wearing sunglasses, Calla shivered as his eyes drifted over her. He undressed every inch of her body. Calla marvelled that he always had this effect her.
When she was his training sub, the connection, possession, the overriding need to give him all her submission had made their scenes wonderful. Calla realized it was because of the man. When Flynn ended their thirty-day contract early, it had devastated Calla. But she had rallied after a while in the hopes she would find the same connection with another master when it became clear Master Flynn had no intentions of playing with her again. It didn’t take her long to realise the connection was so raw and real, she accepted there was not a chance of finding it again.
Detective Chamberlain joined Master Flynn, and they walked towards the security gate. Calla stood up and followed their progress. The blanket around her shoulders. The cool deck burned bare feet, but she didn’t care. At her apartment, while packing her bags for this trip Calla saw the news conference where Master Flynn stepped down as the CEO of Banroch Industries. Her heart broke for him. His appearance had been stoic, but Calla had learned to read her former Dom. She thought is possible that she knew him better than she knew herself.
Master Flynn responded to something Detective Chamberlain said, but Calla appreciated that his eyes were still on her through the sunglasses. Calla stood her ground. They had signed a contract, but Calla would not lie down everything for him like she once had, despite what Linkin advised. She wasn’t sure she wanted her heart broken all over again, but nurturing the tiny flame of her devotion to him wasn’t healthy at all. The therapist inside her reprimanded her on a frequent basis for remaining loyal to a man who dumped her. In fact he had treated her worse than she had ever seen a dominant ever treat any sub at The Cage.
“Ron. I’m excited to be aboard.” Master Flynn shook the crew members hand and started up the steps. Calla stood braced against the railing of the ship as he walked right up to her as she turned her head the breeze sent a couple of strands of hair across her face. She could feel them tickling her cheeks. The caress of hair was more potent to her as she watched Flynn remove his sunglasses and reached a hand out to brush the hair from her face.
“No greetings, sub?” His voice rumbled. Calla’s heart clenched.
“Good Morning, master.” Calla replied.
“Good girl.” Master Flynn set the sunglasses aside and used the same hand to cup her face, his expression unreadable. Calla’s thighs clenched together. Any thought of remaining distant from this man flew away with the rest of the breeze. “Now why haven’t you greeted me naked, on your knees, willing to take my hand?” Calla’s gaze flew to Detective Chamberlain who appeared to be examining the exchange with interest.
“Master-” Calla started.
“Twenty smacks for whatever excuse you are about to make.” His tone was hard. “Now get your ass down to the main cabin and greet your master in the proper fashion.”
&
Flynn stared down at Calla. Saw the war waging in her brain, body and soul at his order. He wondered what she would choose. Her submission had been inevitable ever since he received a copy of a signed contract from her. They may have negotiated with rabid determination over terms, but she never stood a chance. As people were about to find out, Flynn Banroch was a ruthless fucking bastard, and he got what he wanted.
After the failed coup attempt at Banroch Industries last year led by Arthur Banroch and his ex wife Melanie, Flynn had decided it was best to concentrate on his work. The last seven years he’d worked at the helm of Banroch Industries had been the most taxing and gratifying of his life. He considered the fact he’d wrestled the behemoth that was his family business into the twenty-first century, a huge achievement, but the process had been stressful, which was why he relied on the BDSM lifestyle for an outlet.
“What about Detective Chamberlain?” Calla’s soft hazel gaze flicked towards where the detective was standing behind him.
“He’s signed a non disclosure agreement and agreed to train as a Dom as per the rules of The Cage.” Flynn didn’t take his eyes off of Calla even though she turned her gaze towards the detective. Her eyes widened at the information. In her report to Linkin and Flynn, Calla had identified the detective’s dominant personality, his protective instincts and the need to take command. These personality traits dove tailed into the characteristics of some of the best Doms of his acquaintance.
It had been second nature to offer Detective Chamberlain a non-disclosure agreement and offer to train him as a dominant in exchange for Flynn’s cooperation in the investigation against Enbridge Enterprises. The detective didn’t need to learn Flynn would have cooperated, anyway. He would learn in time there was a certain set of rules dominants followed. And while following them Flynn, or any other Dom he knew, wasn’t above a little manipulation to get what they wanted. Case in point standing right in front of him.
“I will not ask you again, sub.” Flynn deepened his voice, set his shoulders back and enjoyed the effect he had on Calla. Her eyes came straight back to him. Her hands tightened on the throw around her shoulders, the one he hated because it was obscuring her fucking outrageously perfect figure from him.
“Yes, Master.” Calla cleared her throat.
“Yes, Master what?” Being a bastard was a part of his Dom persona. Flynn liked to think he was an asshole most of time.
“Yes, Master. I will go into the main cabin, undress and wait for you in slave pose.” Calla recited back to him without any hesitation. It was one reason he fell for her to begin with. Not only was Calla a natural sub, but she got him. She’d understood straightaway what he asked for and gave it to him. Never, not even with Melanie playing at being a sub, had he ever experienced the like.
“Good. Go. I will meet you there and we can discuss your punishment.” The yachts engines roared to life. Calla jumped a little and Flynn held a hand out to steady her. “Where are you, sub?”
“Green, Master.” Calla’s smile tentative.
“We’ll get sea legs on you.” Flynn gave her nudge towards the sliding glass doors leading into one of the main areas of the yacht. A woman attendant stood on the inside and opened the door for Calla. His ears caught a greeting before the doors closed again.
“All of your employees sign non-disclosure agreements?” Chamberlain was staring at the closed sliding glass door even though the tint made it impossible to see inside.
“Many of my employees are in the lifestyle.” Flynn replied and took up the same position Calla had abandoned at the side of the railing. His trusted team made their
final checks before casting away from the dock. “I’ve found it best over the years to surround myself with people I trust. People who understand who I am on a fundamental level.” He scanned the dockside of Granville Island and wondered how many photographers were capturing his departure from the city. Not that they would view it as a departure. Flynn was positive the headline tomorrow would include the word retreat.
“You can’t be too careful with what has happened.” Chamberlain agreed. He ran a hand through his hair. “If this thing is as big as we all think, we will be bringing major heat down on your brother. Do you think he can take it?” Flynn had wondered the same thing. Arthur Banroch had been the bane of Flynn’s existence since the day he was born. Protect your brother. Look out for your brother. Coddle your fucking brother. It was time his little brother grew a pair and helped the family business other than merely waffle on science projects and make ineffectual bids for power.
“Yes. Arthur knows what I expect of him.” Arthur needed to toe the line. The line Flynn drew for him. At no point would Arthur be without his older brother’s guidance. Flynn thought it was like training a brand new Dom. The only difference was that he would do it from a distance.
“As long as you’re comfortable with the arrangements.” Chamberlain nodded.
“I have followed all the legalities.” Flynn moved with the motion of the boat as they sailed under the Burrard Street Bridge. Shadows passed over the deck, but Flynn ignored the unease crawling up his spine. “As I said, Arthur is as trustworthy as I need him to be. His guilt over having anything to do with the murders of those girls is nearly paralysing him and that will keep him in line.”
“You two turning over a new leaf of brotherly love?” Chamberlain’s dark gaze took in every nuance of Flynn’s response from his posture to the inflection of his voice. The detective, had who worked undercover, was a fantastic study of human beings. It would serve him well in his training as a Dom. “My brother and I have an iron clad legal agreement. No need to rely on something as ephemeral as affection between siblings.”