Make Me, Sir

by Cherise Sinclair

  Dan, the hard-faced one. “He"s a cop? That figures.” Gabi massaged her arm, remembering the way he"d dragged her across the room to Marcus.

  “Oh, I know that grip. He"s a cop to the bones. Kari—the pregnant one—is a schoolteacher, and everyone says Dan"s mellowed a lot since meeting her.”

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  “Uh-huh, I can tell he"s a real pushover now.” Gabi leaned an elbow on the bar.

  Raoul hadn"t budged, so she could indulge her curiosity about the other Masters.

  “Who"s the dark-haired Master, the one with black eyes who looks so mean?”

  “Master Nolan. Building contractor. And his sub, Beth, owns a landscaping business—she redesigned the gardens here.”

  “Well, that"s a relief.”

  “Huh?”

  “I mean I"m glad Nolan and Dan are taken. Scary dudes. I wouldn"t want to do a scene with one of them. Of course, when Marcus gets angry…” That’s even worse.

  Gabi mocked a shiver, ignoring the dull ache in her belly from making him unhappy again.

  “You"re scared, and you still sass them?” Andrea frowned. “That"s not very smart.”

  Gabi shrugged. “My father insists my shoe size is bigger than my IQ.”

  As Andrea sputtered with laughter, Master Raoul walked over to get their drink orders. Finally.

  * * *

  Late Saturday night, Jessica sat upstairs in Z"s private third-story rooms and fumed. She hadn"t gone to the Shadowlands yesterday because of a late client appointment—estimated tax payments could screw up the best schedules—and had looked forward to tonight. But Z had said he didn"t want her in the club. And the jerk wouldn"t tell her why, just claimed he had internal club problems. Sure he did. She paced across the living room. Galahad watched, the end of his tail flicking as he contemplated chasing her feet. At least he wanted to chase her.

  In the quiet room, she could hear the sounds of the Shadowlands, the low pulse of the music, mostly the bass. Occasionally a high cry. Very little, really. Z had said he"d put in an excessive amount of soundproofing when he set up the club.

  What would he do if she went down there? Jessica tried to rub the chill from her arms. He"d left no room for misunderstanding. Stay out of the club tonight and next weekend too. He"d smiled and said that was all he"d ask, just tonight and next weekend.

  Her mouth thinned. When she"d worked on the Shadowlands accounts, she"d noticed the new trainee"s membership lasted only a month—after next weekend, Gabrielle would be gone.

  Well, maybe I’ll be gone too.

  The thought pierced her heart like a sharp blade. She shook her head. Z"s withdrawal had something to do with that…that person. What if he wanted to play with her without Jessica around to get her feelings hurt?

  She stared at the wall. In the beginning, Z had let Cullen join a scene and touch Jessica. Did Z figure she should share him with others?

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  Anger sliced into her brain so sharply it took her breath away. I won’t, damn him. Her hands fisted, and if he"d been present, she"d have hit him. Man, I need to get out of here before I make a scene like a child.

  She trotted down the inside stairs and stopped in the ground-floor hallway. No car. Z"d picked her up, saying she could join the guys" poker game after closing. She was stuck here until Z left the club. Dammit.

  At the bottom of the stairs in the empty hall, she paced up and down, and if she kicked the wall a few times, well, tough.

  An unknowable amount of time later, she heard the sound of a key, and Z

  stepped through from the club. God, he looked tired. Under the unforgiving hall light, harsh lines bracketed his mouth; another line carved between his eyebrows.

  How could he make her heart leap, make her worry about him, and make her hate him all at the same time?

  He saw her and inclined his head. “Jessica. Is there a problem?”

  “No.” Yes. She stomped on the urge—the need—to hold him, to let him comfort her and to give him comfort in return. He looked like he badly needed a hug.

  No. He could just take himself off and get soothed by someone else.

  Maybe he"d gotten tired of having a short, fat sub. “I need a ride back to my place. Can you ask one of the guys to give me a lift?”

  “Hadn"t we planned you would spend the night?”

  “I changed my mind.” She sounded like a kid having a temper tantrum and couldn"t summon up the energy to care. He"d left her alone all evening. He didn"t want her there. His sons hated her and thought her too young for him—and maybe she was. “Either find someone to take me home or do it yourself.”

  He studied her face for a long moment and then sighed. “All right, kitten.

  Perhaps that would prove best for tonight.” He held out his hand. “I"ll drive you home.”

  She didn"t take his hand. Everything inside her hurt. She"d expected him to argue, to push her into talking about her fears, to…to show it mattered to him whether she stayed or left. “Thank you.” She turned and headed toward the door to the garage. They"d have a long, long, silent drive home.

  Right now her only goal was to make it there without crying.

  * * *

  In the parking area near the Clearwater Downtown Docks, Cesar Maganti drank his coffee and watched the boat lights bob up and down in the darkness. The wharf never stayed totally quiet, even this late, but no one paid any attention to his big appliance truck. Muffled screams of pain came from the back of the truck as Jang toyed with the female they"d taken earlier. She"d barely awakened from the sedative before Jang had started. He was a brutal bastard but reliable, and discreet help was difficult to find. The Overseer didn"t care if the girls were roughed up some as long 126

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  as they"d heal up in two to three weeks" time. That left a lot of leeway for someone like Jang.

  The girl started to cry, and Maganti heard the wet sounds of sex.

  On the seat beside him, his phone vibrated. Maganti checked the number. The Overseer. “Yes?” No identification, no trace. Both of them used disposable cell phones that would get tossed after the last pickup.

  “I received your message about a problem with the order.”

  Maganti sat up as anxiety burned off his relaxed mood. “Yes. I"m sorry, but—”

  “What happened?”

  “The lighter-colored piece is more trouble than it"s worth.” The Overseer"s list included a sassy blonde and a brunette from the Shadowlands. Maganti was to take whoever proved safer.

  But his investigation showed the blonde had a relationship with her dom and saw him during the week as well as on BDSM nights. Often a woman who only played at a club could disappear without making waves. Hell, half the time a dom wouldn"t even know a sub"s real name. But a husband or lover would search forever and create all sorts of stink.

  “I see. And the other?”

  “Unavailable.” The fucking brunette had disappeared into thin air.

  “That"s disappointing. Let me check if I received an update.” The clicking of a keyboard broke the silence on the phone. “Ah yes. There"s a very fine piece that fits our specifications. I"ll send you the new parts number.”

  Maganti grinned. Score! When the brunette cunt had disappeared last Sunday, he"d worried he"d lose a fucking quarter of his potential fee. “Good enough. I"ll watch for it.” He didn"t know where the dude got the names of the females; he didn"t need or want to know.

  “Any trouble securing the rest of the order?”

  “Nope. I"m waiting for the pickup now, in fact.” He"d grabbed this bitch easily enough. Even better, the only people who might miss her were at her job. On Monday, he"d send her boss an e-mail explaining she"d had a death in the family.

  “Very good. Will the new part be ready before next Sunday? After that would be too late.”

  “If the new piece checks out, I"ll package the last order for shipping o
n Friday or Saturday.”

  “Good.” Silence indicated the Overseer had hung up.

  Maganti heard retching noises coming from the back and turned to yell at Jang, “Get that fucking gag off before she chokes.” He spotted a boat pulling up to the dock. “Her ride"s here. Let"s move.”

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  Chapter Fourteen

  The Shadowlands had closed. Holding his little trainee"s wrist, Marcus led her down the private hallway, then outside. After the dry air-conditioned atmosphere of the club, the sultry air wrapped around him like a sweaty fist.

  Gabi stopped. Her eyes were big and frightened, making him want to pull her into a hug and reassure her. “I need to go home now,” she said.

  “You live alone and don"t have a job at present. Is there a reason you can"t stay a couple of hours longer?”

  Her mouth opened, then closed. She"d decided not to lie to him. This time.

  “That"s what I thought.” He took her around the corner to Z"s private yard at the rear of the Shadowlands. The other three doms had already congregated on the veranda. Z wasn"t in sight.

  Gabi stopped again, obviously seeing everyone present was a Shadowlands Master. “But—”

  “Kneel right here, sugar.”

  She did so silently, which told him how terrified she must be. She stared at the men.

  Many doms, one sub. Of course she was worried. He caressed her cheek.

  “Gabrielle, I am planning to do a scene with you, but it will be only me and you.”

  Her shoulders relaxed.

  Better. “Stay here for now, darlin".” He strolled over to the other Masters, who stood across the veranda by the small refrigerator.

  “"Bout time you decided to join us for a poker night, buddy.” Cullen grinned.

  “Can I hope your reluctance means you don"t know how to play?”

  “Poker? I thought Raoul said bridge.”

  Laughing, Cullen handed him a beer.

  Still in his black leathers and T-shirt, Nolan gestured toward Gabi with his drink. “Did you bring her to play poker, or is there a problem?”

  “Problem.” Marcus looked at him, then Cullen and Raoul. “I"m not getting what is going on in her head. She"s submissive and at times beautifully so. And out of the blue, she"ll turn defiant, even past the point of self-preservation.”

  “I"ve seen that.” Cullen scratched his jaw. “Damned if I"ve figured out her motivation either.”

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  “What can we do, my friend?” Raoul asked.

  “I"d like to do a scene with her, get her into subspace, and find some answers.

  But I usually have an idea of where I"m going. This time—”

  Cullen nodded. “You want backup if needed, and other eyes in case we can spot a clue.”

  “Exactly. I realize it will delay the game.”

  “Comes with the territory,” Nolan said. “Besides, Z called a bit ago. Said he had to take Jessica home and he"d be late. You want to wait?”

  Marcus hesitated and then shook his head. “He"s deliberately keeping something back about her. I"ll do this without him.”

  “You need help setting up?” Raoul asked.

  “No setup. I"ll use the posts out here.” Marcus turned to check on Gabi. She knelt, watching him, her nervousness apparent in her wide brown eyes and clenched hands. So quiet. Why so submissive now? “Come here, please.”

  She rose quite gracefully, he noticed. She"d obviously practiced a bit.

  Nolan grunted in approval, and Cullen murmured, “She"s a pretty sub, Marcus.”

  When she stood in front of him, she asked, “Yes, Sir?”

  “You"re beautiful like this,” he said, seeing the need to please shining in her eyes.

  She flushed.

  He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I"m going to flog you, sugar.”

  Gabi inhaled sharply and took a step back. Was he insane? “You kept me here to—”

  “I"m not a sadist, Gabi, and we both know you enjoy a bit of pain. This is just a different type.” Without giving her time to think it over, he guided her between two patio posts that had bolts embedded up high.

  “Here you go,” the rough dom—Nolan—called and tossed Marcus two short chains.

  Marcus used them to restrain her between the posts so that she faced the veranda with her arms lifted like in a victory cheer V.

  Her breath caught as she pulled on the chains. Could she let him do this? “I—

  Why now? Not before in the club?”

  “You do better with less people around, darlin".”

  Oh, damn, he"d noticed. Even as she tried to figure out what to do, excitement speared through her, rapidly turning to heat when he removed her halter top with sure fingers. He unzipped her short vinyl skirt and pulled that off as well, leaving her naked.

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  Oh God. Her heart started to race, and she could feel her nipples peaking, her skin tingling with anticipation.

  His gaze ran over her, face to hands to breasts, and he gave her a slow smile.

  “All excited before we even start.”

  She flushed, and her eyes strayed toward the other doms. What must they think? Why was she the only submissive here?

  He noticed the direction of her gaze. “Sugar, I"m going to blindfold you.”

  Be blind? Gabi shook her head, her fear rising like the mercury in a thermometer on a hot day. “Sir, no.”

  He cupped her chin, meeting her eyes with his steady ones. “Gabrielle, you"ll concentrate better on the sensations and not on who"s present. I will not do anything that you don"t know about, and I will not leave you alone, not even for a second.”

  She saw the question in his face: Do you trust me? And she couldn"t hold out.

  All evening she"d hated how she had to keep disappointing him time after time.

  Master Nolan, Raoul, and Cullen had been members of the club for years; surely none of them were the kidnapper. With relief, she realized she didn"t need to act like a brat. She could do what Marcus wanted this time.

  Excitement started in the hollow of her back and tingled up her spine.

  Flogging. “Okay.”

  “That"s my girl,” he said, making her heart leap with longing. He tied the padded blindfold on snugly.

  As the blackness enfolded her, she tensed, and yet her skin tingled as if someone was running a Fourth of July sparkler over it.

  “You have a safe word to use if you need to.” He didn"t move but stayed close enough that the heat of his body warmed hers as he stroked her hair gently.

  As her breathing eased, she heard the other men talking quietly. Cullen"s louder laugh. The fragrance of the sea and tropical flowers and Marcus"s own masculine scent. She raked her toes against the concrete to remind herself of where she was.

  He abandoned her hair and ran his fingertips down her body. She jumped.

  “Easy, sugar.” His hand grazed across her skin as he moved to stand behind her. He braced his chest against her back and curved his fingers lightly around her throat, the most subtle of reminders of how vulnerable she was. He murmured in her ear, “There"s nothing you can do wrong, because all the control belongs to me.

  You don"t have any say in what happens.”

  The concrete seemed to soften under her feet.

  His breath brushed her ear. “You can scream or sass or cry. It doesn"t matter. I will still do what I want to do.” He turned her head far enough to take her mouth, roughly, possessively, reinforcing that she could do nothing to stop him.

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  Even as she shifted her weight anxiously, heat pooled low in her belly. This was what she wanted…had always needed.

  He ran his hard hands over her, his touch almost painful; then cuffs closed snugly around her ankles. Unbreakable. Chains clanked as he secured her legs widely ap
art.

  Air wafted over the bare, wet skin of her pussy and inner thighs, cool against the heat.

  “Now you"re open to me, and I will do whatever I want. All you can do is take it, li"l subbie.”

  The words sounded like a threat, and yet given in his soft drawl, they made her shiver with anticipation. Touch me, please.

  He must have knelt behind her, for his hands grazed up the backs of her thighs and moved between her legs. He stroked through her folds. She could feel she was awfully wet despite her fear—or maybe because of it. Flogging. He would hit her—

  “Stay with me here, sugar,” he murmured. His finger slid directly over the top of her rapidly hardening clit, and her mind went blank as the sensation sizzled across her nerves. She groaned and pushed her hips forward.

  “That"s right.” His finger circled, melting her insides. Even as he played with her clit, he kissed the right cheek of her bottom and then bit the soft flesh hard enough to send a shock of pain up her spine and shoot her arousal higher.

  She"d never felt like this. He was playing with her as her cats toyed with their prey. Her hips squirmed; she couldn"t tell how to move to increase his touch on her clit. As the chains clanked, she remembered the other doms and froze. A flush scalded her face.

  Marcus laughed, low and deep. “Yes, they"re watching, Gabi. They see how you"ve surrendered to me, and how you"re going to give me everything I ask tonight.” The pleasure in his voice surged over her like an ocean wave.

  Abandoning her throbbing pussy, he rose and set his solid chest against her back. When he cupped her breasts, heat moved through her, up and down, electricity lost in the maze of her body. He teased her nipples, rolling them gently between his fingers, increasing the pressure slowly into pain.

  Caught in his trap, she"d pull away from the hurt and then push forward, needing the pleasure. He sucked on her earlobe, his breath riffling her hair.

  Encircled by him, unable to escape, she whimpered.