Protecting His Own (Masters of the Shadowlands Book 11)

by Cherise Sinclair

  “Why, how nice.” Alyssa’s sugared tone made Beth’s palm tingle with the need for a good bitch-slap. “You even brought cookies.”

  “Beth makes great cookies.” Nolan pushed up to sit on the couch and smiled at her. “Thank you, sugar.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Alyssa echoed.

  “You’re so very welcome,” Beth said in such a sweet voice that Nolan’s eyes narrowed. “Just a little something to show how much I appreciate your efforts to get my husband’s shoulder back in shape. I’m afraid he’s overdoing when playing with the children.”

  “I’m sure Master Nolan is excellent with those poor orphans.” Alyssa ignored the cookies and picked up a glass.

  Beth’s lips turned up as Nolan took a cookie. “He totally is.”

  Alyssa gave Nolan an intimate smile. “When I came here, before, you said you built this huge house for a large family. So when are you having children of your own? I bet you can’t wait to have a little boy with your gorgeous black eyes.”

  The words hit Beth hard, like a heavy ice-filled sleet, crushing brittle emotions to the ground. Her shaky inhalation pulled in air filled with Alyssa’s musky perfume. “We are—”

  “It won’t take us long to fill the house with children,” Nolan stated firmly.

  “Of course.” Pursing her pillowy lips, Alyssa laid her hand on Nolan’s forearm and gazed up into his eyes. “Someday, I hope to have a Dom so I can give him beautiful babies. So he can see his babies growing inside me.” The way her gaze slid to Beth showed she knew Beth wasn’t able to carry Nolan’s children.

  Was this what a weed felt like when pulled out of the ground—roots tearing and stem breaking? Alyssa was beautiful. Lush. Fertile. She could give Sir everything Beth couldn’t.

  Nolan said something that disappeared into the cold fog filling her head. Blinking hard, she took a step back. “Enjoy the cookies. I n-need to get back to work.” Turning, she bumped into Grant and Connor who’d arrived in time to block the doorway. Giving them a wavering smile, she edged past and escaped.

  * * * * *

  Grant turned and stared as Beth hurried down the hall. Her voice had been funny, and her eyes were all wet. She was crying.

  His hands closed into fists. The therapist lady had hurt Beth’s feelings. Made her feel bad. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew a mean voice when he heard one.

  Just like he knew when Nolan was angry.

  “We’re done here.” Nolanman was on his feet, and his face was pissed-off as he stared down at the lady.

  “But, Sir.” When she tried to grab Nolanman’s hand, he stepped away. “You don’t understand.”

  Connor pushed past Grant. “You made Beff cry!”

  The lady glared at him. “Why, I did not.”

  Anger swelled inside Grant, red and thick and hot. She lied. “Did, too. You’re mean. Get out of here, and don’t come back.”

  Her eyes went squinty mad. “Go play in your room. I’m talking to Nolan.”

  He could still see Beth’s tears, and his voice came out all shrill and loud. “You go. Go away!” He picked up the cookie plate and threw it hard. But the dish went over her head and hit the window.

  Crash. Glass flew everywhere.

  As the roaring in his ears faded, Grant stared at the shattered window. At the glass glinting all over the carpet. His stomach clenched. He’d busted the window. He’d gone crazy-mad and yelled and thrown things just like Mama.

  He’d tried to hurt the lady. And Nolan looked really mad.

  Fear wrapped around his chest until he couldn’t breathe. With a low whine, he darted out of the room and down the hall.

  * * * * *

  Jesus fuck. Missing his grab for Grant, Nolan secured Connor with a hand on his shoulder. What a fucking mess.

  Alyssa’s expression held shock.

  He gave her a level stare. “The boys told the truth. Your words were fucking cruel.”

  “He-he threw a plate at me!”

  “He was defending the sweetest woman in the world. And you made her cry.” Nolan gave Connor’s shoulder a squeeze. “Perhaps the guys went about it the wrong way, but I’m proud of them both.”

  The trembling under his hand stopped. Brown eyes stared up at him in wonder.

  “I-I’m sorry, Sir.” Alyssa’s eyes filled with tears. “I guess I was… I miss you, Sir. And I remember how good we were together, and—”

  “I appreciate the therapy you did.” He kept his voice even. “But, as I told you earlier, my shoulder is fine now. I want you to talk with Z about getting help for what we discussed earlier. Let me see you to the door.”

  She stared at him as if she couldn’t believe he was serious. “But… Yes, Sir.”

  After he got her out of the house, he asked Connor to play in the great room, sweetening the deal with a couple of cookies. He also had to promise he wouldn’t be “mean” to Grant. Loyal brothers; he liked that.

  Finally, he hunted for Grant. He hadn’t heard the back door open or shut. The deadbolt on the front was locked. The boy was still in the house.

  When in trouble as a kid, Nolan would take refuge in his bedroom. But the boys’ room was empty. No one in the closet or the bath. Remembering what Beth had said, Nolan checked under the bed.

  Grant was curled into a ball in the far corner, tears on his cheeks. Shivers shook his small body.

  Hell. And hell was what the kid had lived through with a drug-addicted mother and her abusive boyfriend. Pity twisted Nolan’s heart as he sat back and leaned against the nightstand. “Alyssa’s gone and won’t be back. You and Connor were right. What Alyssa said was mean, and it made Beth cry.”

  Silence.

  He knew exactly why the boys had reacted so angrily. Seeing Beth cry…hurt. And he wanted to go after her right now. But he had his work cut out for him here.

  More silence.

  Nolan shook his head. Dammit. Pretty speeches were his submissive’s strength, not his. “As the men in the house, it’s our job to keep Beth safe and try to make her happy.”

  Still silence.

  Absently, he considered the picture of flowers on the wall. Nice and generic, but his guys would probably prefer something more interesting. Trains or football. “You did good defending her. Both of you. Your mistake was in throwing the plate.” He scratched his cheek. “It’s against the guy code to hurt women”—unless they were into it—“so it’s good your aim was off.”

  “Are you mad at me?” The whisper was so low he almost couldn’t hear it.

  “Nope.” He considered the picture again. Yeah, it definitely had to go. Beth should buy more masculine bedspreads, too. “Actually, I’m fucking proud of you and Connor for standing up for Beth. You showed real courage.”

  A rustling sound came from under the bed. “I didn’t mean to hurt the therapist lady. I was…mad.”

  “Yep. It’ll take work to get your temper under control. I had one, too, and I did some stupid shit when I was your age.” And he hadn’t had the excuse of having crappy examples of how to behave.

  Grant crawled out from under the bed. “I busted the window.” Tears had left streaks on his cheeks, but he was on his feet and facing Nolan. Like a man.

  Pride clogged Nolan’s throat. “Guess you’d better help me fix it then.”

  A second later, he had his arms full of boy.

  Chapter Fourteen

  That night, Beth hesitated at the door of the Shadowlands. Turning, she stared back at the long, curving drive lined by stately palms. Sunset threw darkness into the contours of the land and gilded the stones of the three-story mansion.

  This wasn’t exactly the place she’d have chosen to talk with Nolan.

  His text hadn’t invited discussion. “The Shadowlands. Nine tonight. Kids are going to Dan’s. Ben will have your clothes.” Was he angry with her?

  Probably…not. She hadn’t been rude, merely fled the house like the rabbit he called her. Humiliation washed over her.

  Her afternoon hadn�
�t been pleasant—and many weeds had died as she’d worked out her frustration and hurt and anger. She felt so petty to be jealous of Alyssa. To want to be lusher and more like what she knew Nolan liked.

  She bit her lip, wondering what he’d planned for tonight. Maybe she could ask him for a quiet chat before the scene? Because…she needed to woman-up. She’d been an idiot and a wuss.

  With a sigh, she grasped the heavy wrought iron handle, yanked open the door, and entered.

  “If it isn’t little Beth.” The giant security guard’s pleased greeting made her feel better.

  “Hey, Ben. How is Anne doing? Is she enjoying working for Galen?”

  “Yeah, she loves it. I swear, listening to the two of them—and Sally—could make a guy paranoid. Never knew there were so many ways to spy on a person.”

  Beth snorted. “Sounds like the beginning of a joke doesn’t it? An ex-Fed, an ex-PI, and a hacker walk into a bar…”

  “No shit.” His rough laugh almost matched Sir’s. “Hey, Nolan left a bag for you. Some clothes.” He reached under his big desk and drew out a backpack.

  “Right. Guess I’d better get dressed.” She bit her lip. How angry was her Master?

  “Relax. He didn’t act pissed-off.” Ben gave her a sympathetic smile before motioning toward the locker room. “Get moving now.”

  A few minutes later, dressed in a boring brown leather skirt and matching halter-top, she walked into the main clubroom. Eyes peeled for Nolan, she crossed to the bar where Master Cullen was serving up drinks, mostly nonalcoholic this early in the evening. Hard drinks were usually a treat indulged in after playtime.

  The huge bartender regarded her with a smile. “You’re looking healthier, love. Your Master is setting up near the back.” He waved his hand, indicating the left rear of the room.

  “Thank you, Sir.” Without stopping, she headed that direction. As the sounds and scents of the club filled the air around her, she felt the familiar sinking sensation, a combination of excitement and submission as her body and mind prepared her for what was to come.

  “Hey, girlfriend.” Rainie, resplendent in a bright blue corset that made the most of her abundant curves and highlighted her flower tats, was sitting on a couch beside Master Jake. Without waiting for her Dom’s permission, she jumped up to hug Beth. “I’ve missed seeing you here. Now Master Nolan is back, you’ll be in more often, right?”

  “I… Probably.” If the boys left, she and Nolan wouldn’t stay at home as much. Her heart ached at the thought and even more at the thought of the boys facing another unfamiliar house and people. If there weren’t any relatives, maybe…would Nolan, maybe, change his mind about adopting a girl first? She put the thought to one side to consider later. “But we’re hoping to adopt one of these days.”

  “So Sally said.” Rainie grinned—because Sally was the acknowledged queen of gossip. “Some kid will win the jackpot with you and Nolan as parents.” The sincerity in her voice couldn’t be doubted.

  Rainie got a hard hug. “I totally needed to hear that right now. Thank you.”

  “Beth. Heads-up, pet.” Master Jake pointed toward a nearby scene area. “You should get over there before someone loses patience.”

  Nolan was at the “spider web,” a shoulder-high bondage device resembling a massive hula-hoop filled with intricate rope webbing. Sir’s arms were crossed over his chest. He didn’t appear happy.

  “Oh boy,” she said under her breath and heard Jake chuckle.

  As she hurried up to her Master, the flutters in her stomach felt like frantic butterflies in a tropical storm. “I’m sorry, Master. Am I late?”

  “No, sugar.” His features gentled. “Come and give me a hug before we get started.”

  Oh, she needed his hug really badly. His arms closed around her, pulling her close, and she melted against him. When she’d first met him—this dark Dom with a cruel, scarred face—his big size and muscular body had seemed a terrifying threat. And now? He was still dangerous, no doubt about it, but he was her dangerous Dom.

  After not nearly enough time, he stepped back and gripped her shoulders, holding her still as he studied her for a long, uncomfortable moment. “You were crying when you left. And you didn’t answer your phone.”

  She swallowed. “I’m sorry about the way I acted, Sir. I was just having an”—she waved her hand in the air—“an emotion attack.”

  “Were you now?” Nolan put a finger under her chin and lifted, forcing her to meet his razor-sharp gaze. “Sugar, I’ve made some mistakes over the summer. Starting with leaving you—although I’ve already been scolded by my submissive for feeling guilty.” His hint of amusement disappeared under determination. “I’d thought the violence at Anne’s house was still bothering you, only to learn about the hormone treatments’ failure. Today, I figured Alyssa’s bullshit about adoption was what upset you, only I’m gettin’ the feeling I’m off base again. Not being able to get pregnant will probably always grieve you, but did you have another reason you ran?”

  Reluctantly, she nodded. Honesty—this damn honesty was awful hard, especially when her reasons were so ridiculous. Surely, a woman should be past having self-image problems by her age. God, she was such a loser.

  “Tell me why.”

  Her mouth opened, but…what could she say? Hey, Sir, do you still love me even though I’m way too skinny and have no breasts to speak of? He did love her. This insecurity had no basis in reality and was her problem. “Honestly, it’s nothing you have to handle. It’s something…personal and is my responsibility to deal with and nothing we need to discuss.”

  “I see you believe that.” She felt a moment of hope until a corner of his mouth lifted and he added, “But I don’t agree.” His hand tangled in her hair and fisted, trapping her, sending a shiver of need up her center. “Do you trust me, Beth?”

  Her answer was instinctual. “Of course.” She did, to the bottom of her soul.

  “That’s good, sugar, because I’m going to push you.”

  She stared up at him as her legs started to tremble. His jaw was hard. Not angry—but with determination. Oh God, what had she let loose?

  “Strip down, sugar. The clothing I picked out should be quick and easy to remove.”

  He had chosen boring fetwear because it was easy to take off? Such a guy. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good answer. High protocol begins now.”

  High protocol. Obedience, respect, silence. “Yes, Master.” She remembered the first time he’d demanded it, right after they met.

  “If I institute high protocol, you will keep your eyes lowered and speak only when permitted. However, during a scene, I want your eyes on me.” He tilted her chin up, met her eyes in a look that seared straight down to her toes. “You have pretty eyes, Elizabeth. Keep them on me.”

  Did he have any idea how much that compliment had meant to her?

  Head bowed, she removed her short leather skirt and top, folded the garments, and set them beside his leather bag. Quietly, she knelt to one side of the scene area.

  She studied him as he finished setting up. His long, straight hair was pulled back in a tie. He wore his usual Dom clothes—sleeveless, black muscle shirt, black leather pants, black boots. He could still make her mouth go dry.

  He glanced over at her, and warmth lit his dark eyes, making her flush. “Very nice. I like you naked and kneeling.” After pulling a wheeled table into the area, he laid out rolls of short, transparent cling wrap.

  Alarm took big bites out of her calm. Cling wrap? The stuff was used for mummification. He’d never done that to her—and she didn’t want him to now.

  He cleared his throat, and her gaze shot to his stern face. Oops. She lowered her head and stared at the floor.

  The minutes passed too slowly. She could feel each beat of her heart, each too-rapid breath. The music of Bella Morte, “Where Shadows Lie” made it worse. Cries of pain from the adjacent scene area and the sobbing of a slave in a cage ramped her anxiety higher.

/>   “Beth, come here.”

  Almost relieved to begin—and still terrified—she approached.

  “I’m going to wrap you in this.” He indicated the transparent film. “Head to toe, except for your nose and mouth.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he continued. “You like tight, rope bondage, darlin’. This is just the next level up.”

  But, but, but. He was right. But, but, but…

  He was waiting for her response.

  She gave him a jerky nod.

  Pulling her forward, he caressed her cheek. “I know you’re scared, but a lot of submissives love mummification. It can be very calming.”

  She’d say he was full of it, but being bound in his ropes sent her to the most tranquil place in the world, and he knew it. A resigned sigh escaped her.

  His lips curved. “Good girl.”

  How come, even after being married two years, his approval still filled her with fresh joy?

  After backing her closer to the spider web, he wrapped cling around each arm and leg individually. Although the mummification kink had become fairly popular, it had always creeped her out. She even avoided watching those scenes.

  Now she regretted her lack of knowledge.

  Then he started at her head, beginning the process of turning her into a transparent mummy. At her shoulders, he paused.

  “Take a deep breath and hold it.” As she inhaled, he positioned thick cardboard circles over each nipple and cling-wrapped her chest, pinning her arms to her sides. Layer after layer went around her until the binding sensation was like a corset. Slowly, he moved downward.

  When she swayed, he leaned her against the spider web, which was tilted slightly backward to take her weight.

  She tried to help, but couldn’t move her arms or hands or anything. There was no…give. Her mouth was so dry she could hardly swallow.

  After a moment, she realized he was watching her, silently. Monitoring her reactions.

  Okay. Okay. She pulled in a breath and forced herself to relax.