by Laura Kaye
This necklace was him wanting to show her all of that. And letting her know that he wasn’t just thinking about the next scene or the next week or the next month that they’d be together. He was thinking about them forever and for everything.
So it felt a little like fate when, twenty minutes after he left the jewelry store, his cell rang showing Cass’s name on the caller ID. He grinned, hoping she was as excited as he was about tonight.
“Cassia. To what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked by way of answering, a big stupid grin on his face.
“Hi,” she said, her voice sounding all wrong. “I’m afraid I have bad news.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked, freezing as he got out of his car in the lot at Blasphemy.
“My body has been possessed by a vomit monster. Either that, or I’m sick,” she said.
“Damn, I’m sorry. Are you home?” A gut-deep need rose up to take care of her in every way she needed. And that told him a lot, too, about where he was with her.
“Yeah. I got home from work a few hours ago. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner, but I won’t be able to make it tonight.” Her voice was scratchy and croaky.
“Baby,” he said. “Why are you apologizing?”
“Because I hate to disappoint you,” she said.
Because I hate to disappoint you, Master.
She hadn’t used the D/s title, but he’d heard it in her tone. Loud and clear. And even though her voice was a train wreck, the sentiment reached inside his chest and tugged at things. Tugged at them hard.
Christ, he was in love with this woman.
Christ. He was in love with this woman.
“Baby,” he said, gentler this time. “You never could. Now, hang tight, I’ll be right there.”
Twenty minutes later, Quinton was knocking on her door. He hated that she’d have to get up to let his ass in. At some point he’d need a key. Because his brain was apparently unable to stop thinking of ways to make this thing he’d found with Cassia permanent.
The door eased open, and it was quite possible that the wood was all that held her upright. She was sheet white, had dark circles under bloodshot eyes, and stood hunched over.
“Hi,” she said, hanging back from him. “Really glad you’re here, but don’t wanna get you sick.”
“Don’t care about that,” he said, taking her in his arms and pushing the door shut. She was warm to the touch. “Damn, Cass, you’re hot.”
She tilted her head back to look at him. “I know, right? So hot.”
He chuckled. How many times had she made him laugh these past weeks? Her sense of humor was just one of the many things he loved about her. “Come on, funny girl. Let’s get you back in bed.”
“Oh,” she said, ducking her chin. “I, uh, have been laying out here. I kinda got sick in the bedroom earlier and trying to clean it up…” She shook her head. “I’ll deal with it later.”
“Okay. No worries.” Damn, he was really glad he’d come. Quinton led her to the couch, and she immediately curled into a pile of pillows up against the corner. Crouching, he covered her with a blanket. “What can I get you?”
Her eyelids were already heavy. “Just you,” she whispered.
“You got me, baby.” Understatement of the century. “Sleep now.”
He knelt there until her eyes closed, and then he went foraging. He grabbed a bottle of water and found the Tylenol in a cabinet, along with a little stockpile of chicken noodle soup. Maybe she’d be able to stomach that later. He placed the water and meds on the coffee table for when she woke up.
Then he checked on her bedroom. The sour smell hit him before he walked in the room, and no way was he leaving it like this. Quinton opened a window, letting the cool fall air stream in, and then he made quick work of removing the dirty sheets and emptying the trash can she’d made it to. The tour she’d given him his first time here meant he knew that she had a little laundry set-up in a hall closet. As quietly as he could, he dropped the sheets into the washer and got that going. Finally, he found clean bedding in a linen closet and got a couple wet rags from the bathroom to clean the carpet.
There wasn’t a thing glamorous about any of it. But life and love were fucking messy sometimes, and the beauty of it all was in making someone else’s life better with kindness and care. On the face of BDSM, it was the submissive who was the one in service. But the reality was that service was at the heart of who and what a Dominant was, too. Like most Doms, Quinton was hard-wired with the need to take care of those he cared about, and certainly, of the one he loved. In every way she needed. In any way she needed.
To take care of Cassia.
It was why he’d wanted to help her with the phobia that was the result of her accident. It was why he’d so often denied his own arousal when it was clear she’d gone as far as she could in a scene. It was why he loved eating pussy and got off on giving orgasm after orgasm. And it was why he’d made her bed and gotten on his hands and knees to scrub puke out of a carpet.
Footsteps pounded down the hall, and then the retching started.
Quinton was at Cass’s side in a moment. He held her hair back as her whole body convulsed over the toilet with every heave. Fuck, he hated that he couldn’t do more.
Finally, it passed. She flushed the toilet and attempted to stand.
“Come here, baby,” he said, helping her up and to the sink. “Get some water. But maybe not too much.”
Nodding, she rinsed her mouth with a few handfuls, and then she just sagged against the counter. “Thank you,” she said, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “I know this sucks, but will you stay with me?”
He smirked. “Try to make me leave.”
That eked a small smile out of her.
Quinton stayed the rest of the day. She slept on and off, and finally the vomiting stopped long enough that she attempted a cup of tea. When that stayed down, she tried a little of the broth from the chicken noodle soup. They watched Ferris Bueller’s Day Off because that seemed totally appropriate to the situation and it made her laugh. And then he stayed the night, too, holding her as her fever broke and she moaned and shifted in her sleep.
And even though he regretted how bad she felt and wished he could weather it for her, he felt a kind of peace in his chest at getting to be with someone this way. At getting to be with Cassia this way.
Through the good and the bad. Because that was love.
~~~
Cassia might’ve thought she’d died if it wasn’t for the hot expanse of man sprawled naked beside her on the bed, the early morning light casting shadows across his body that highlighted all his hard ridges and angles. His cock stirred despite the fact that he remained asleep. She wasn’t remotely in any shape to do anything about that, but it sure was nice to look.
Maybe this was heaven?
Actually, there was no maybe about it.
Quinton had spent his whole day with her. He’d fed her, held her hair while she threw up, cleaned up her puke, and did her laundry. If that wasn’t heaven, she didn’t know what was.
What she did know?
She loved him. She was in love with him.
But was it too soon to tell him?
It hadn’t even been a week since they’d agreed to be exclusive, and here she was imagining forever.
Pulling herself out of bed, she stumbled to the bathroom. At least the nausea was gone. Except now she was the human equivalent of a wet noodle. And that was being generous.
Back in the bedroom, she found Quinton in a stretch that highlighted every gorgeous muscle. All the way hard now, his cock bobbed against his stomach.
“Damn, I wish I was up to doing you right now,” she said.
His belly laugh made her smile. “You can do me any time, baby.”
He held out an arm, and she crawled in against him. Cassia loved the way his arm curled around her shoulders, pulling her in tighter. “Thank you for yesterday.”
“Not a thing,” he said. “How are you doing?”
> “Better. I’m just kinda trashed from it.”
He nodded. “You’re not going in to work, I hope?”
“I don’t think I could make it out the front door,” she said. Disappointment stirred in her belly. “Which means I probably won’t be up to visiting you at Blasphemy tonight.”
Quinton made a sound low in his throat. “I’m thinking about finding someone to cover me.”
She shifted to brace her chin on his pecs. “You don’t have to do that, Quinton. I’m a lot better. And the way I feel, I think I’m just gonna sleep.”
“You sure? I want to take care of you.” He tucked her hair behind her ear, his gaze so full of affection and concern.
And damn if his words didn’t reach right into her heart. “I appreciate that so much. If I need you, I promise I’ll ask.”
Quinton heaved a breath like he wasn’t entirely convinced. Finally, he nodded. “Okay, but I have a request.”
“Sure.” After everything he’d done for her, what wouldn’t she give him?
“Would you consider giving me a key to your apartment, Cassia?”
A warm pressure bloomed inside her. “Consider it done.”
“You sure? I know it might seem a little fast, but if you need something, I want to be able to get to you.”
“Completely sure,” she said. It might seem a little fast… If he thought it was fast to be swapping keys, it was definitely too fast for her to be telling him she loved him… “I have extras in the kitchen drawer.”
“Okay, good. And this weekend, if you’re feeling up to it, I want you to come to my place.” He shrugged with one big shoulder. “I can’t wait too much longer to get you in my bed, baby.”
Happiness tingled over her skin. “I really hate that I’m sick right now.”
He chuckled. “What can I do for you before I have to head to the club today?”
Aw, how freaking sweet was he? “Just being here is everything.”
Quinton tilted his head, those brown eyes absolutely blazing. “Everything, huh?”
She nodded, and they spent the next three hours lazing in bed. Talking, touching, laughing. They ate soup and crackers together at her little kitchen table, and Quinton once again promised to cook for her when she was better.
Cassia hated to see him go. But she was also exhausted. In between dozing off, she answered the messages he sent checking in on her. And, just as she’d expected, when evening rolled around, she was in absolutely no shape to try to go out. So she sent him maybe her twentieth text of the day and said good night.
Lying in bed, Cass stared at the little lamp on her nightstand, its golden glow casting a low light over the corner of the room. Ridiculously, she felt almost like David facing off with Goliath as she debated, then finally resolved to try. She turned it off.
Darkness fell over the room.
Her heartrate picked up. Anxiety prickled across her skin.
Cass forced her eyes closed.
What do you see, little one?
Quinton, laughing like an idiot at Ferris Bueller. Quinton, his expression shattered as he came. Quinton, peering up her body, his mouth hovering over her core, his lips wet with her arousal. Quinton, take care in a million different ways.
For the first time in two years, she fell asleep alone. In the dark. And was okay.
Chapter Thirteen
Cassia arrived to Blasphemy on Saturday night absolutely giddy. Giddy to see Master Quinton, giddy to tell him about her silly-but-significant triumph, giddy to just be his, and have everyone know it.
The place was packed as it always was on the weekend, and the club was a feast for the senses. A driving, chanting music hummed over the crowd, cries of pleasure rang out, and people in every state of dress—and undress—danced and kissed and more. The soaring columns and towering ceiling made the space feel ethereal despite the press of bodies.
Cass made her way through the madness to the bar, and sure enough, Master Quinton had reserved a seat for her. A placard with her name sat in front of a stool. It wasn’t a black velvet rope, but it made her feel a little gooey inside all the same.
She slipped onto the stool, her gaze immediately finding Master Quinton at the far side. He wore black jeans that hugged his fine ass and a black tank that showed off those delicious shoulders, and she reveled in every moment that she got to study him.
Damn, that man was hers.
As if he’d heard her, he turned, and the smile that lit up his face when his gaze landed on her made her feel like she might float up to the top of the vaulted ceiling. He finished with one more customer, wiped his hands on a rag, and stalked her way.
She couldn’t stop grinning. “Hello, Master.”
“Damn good to see you, little one.” He winked. “Get up here and give me a proper greeting.”
She looked at him and eyed the flat marble in front of her. “You want me to…”
He smirked. “Uh huh.”
A thrilled fluttered through her belly, but she didn’t hesitate. Carefully, she shifted so that she was kneeling on the stool, and then, one knee at a time, she crawled up on the bar. Just like he’d commanded, she hadn’t worn panties under her little red dress, so no doubt she was giving people a show. But she didn’t care, not when he was smiling like that. Finally, she knelt on the bar top. Knees spread and waiting. Before Master Quinton.
A low hum rose up as people took notice of them, but Cassia didn’t pay it any mind, because her Master suddenly looked like he might bend her over the bar and fuck her right there in front of everyone. And she would’ve loved every second of it.
He came right up to her and grasped her face in both of his big hands, and then he kissed her like she was the water he drank and the food he ate until she couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe—and was half convinced she didn’t need air as long as she had him.
Applause. People were applauding.
She couldn’t help the grin or the heat that flooded her cheeks when he finally pulled away.
“Now that was a proper greeting,” he said, his smile pure smug sexiness.
“I’ll remember that, Master.” And she would. If he thought she wasn’t doing this every time she came from here on out, he had another think coming.
“How you feeling, baby?” He braced his hands on either side of her knees against the bar top.
“A lot better. Still a little tired, but good.” She smiled. “And guess what?”
“What?”
“I slept in the dark last night. And I was totally fine.” The grin was so big it almost hurt her cheeks.
He cupped her face in his hand. “You are so much more than fine I can barely stand it. Proud of you.”
She nearly beamed. “I still missed you, though.”
“Mmm.” He let his gaze drag down over her cleavage, her spread thighs, and then he lifted it again. “Missed you, too. In fact, I want you to stay right there for a bit so I can look my fill.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said.
He backed away, eyes on her, until he finally had to turn his attention to a customer. She loved watching him work, and it also helped to center her against all the attention still pouring her way. Maybe it wasn’t usual to see a sub sitting on the bar? What did she know? But she kinda loved it, too.
Because Master Quinton kept paying her attention however he could. Throwing her a playful wink. Giving her a kiss as he passed her by. Placing his hand on her thigh when he served someone right near her.
It was fun and sweet and making her freaking crazy.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been kneeling there when he finally let her down onto a stool again, and she was excited to see Master Griffin and Kenna just by the bar in the crowd. How funny that Cass had worried about leaving the other submissive with the wrong impression the last time they’d chatted—only for that impression to now be true. Cassia waited for Master Quinton to be able to talk and then asked, “Master, may I have your permission to speak to Kenna?”
“Thank you, Sir,” she said, slipping from the stool. She approached her new friends and waited for the other Dom’s attention.
His dark eyes finally swung her way, and he gave her a smile. “Ah, Cassia. Hello.”
“Good evening, Master Griffin.”
“Are you feeling better?”
The question caught her off guard for a moment, because how did he…realization flooded through her. Master Quinton must’ve told him, which meant that he’d talked about her. “Much better, Sir, thank you.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” He glanced to the bar with a humored, approving expression. “You’ve been keeping your Master company, I saw.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said, unable to hold back a smile even as heat warmed her cheeks.
He turned to Kenna. “Would you two like to visit for a while? I need to get things ready.”
“I’d love that, Sir,” Kenna said, her smile immediate. Cass was so glad to see that. Two years of having largely dropped out of life meant that she didn’t have that many close friends. And Kenna seemed like someone she could really like. Her Dom gave her a lingering kiss, and then disappeared into the crowd. “That man,” she said, her gaze full of heat and love.
Cassia chuckled. “Yeah.”
“He’s totally wound up over a new suspension we’re using tonight,” she said, her hand rubbing over her prosthetic. “It’s a little more demanding, but I can totally handle it.”
“Master Griffin specializes in rope bondage, is that right?” Cass asked.
“He’s a freaking genius at it,” Kenna said, her expression going soft with affection and pride. “He’s never once hurt my arm, but whenever we try something new or we do a demonstration, he always worries.”