Abby sputtered with laughter.
Rona frowned at her husband. “If you weren’t driving, I’d hit you.”
His smile was slow and ominous. “If I weren’t driving, I’d paddle your ass for threatening me.”
They were so well matched. Abby sighed a little. She and Nathan had been fairly in tune intellectually, but Rona and Simon had a constant sexual hum going.
She frowned. With Xavier, the electricity was there, but they sure didn’t know each other. And never would.
Rona turned again, her thick, wavy hair falling over her shoulder. “Back to snoopyitis. Simon said Nathan introduced you to him. Why didn’t he ever bring you to the club?”
Abby’s drink stopped partway to her mouth. That was a good question. He’d never invited her, just tried to do bondage at home. “Maybe he thought I’d get scared off.” She huffed a laugh. “Which might have happened if I’d seen the piercing stuff first.”
Rona winced. “True. I almost ran out of the place the first time I saw someone inserting needles into a breast.” She rubbed her head on Simon’s arm like a kitten. “Are you seeing Xavier now, then?”
“No!” Glancing at the mirror, Abby noticed Simon’s quizzical look. “Xavier isn’t… No.” She gave a helpless shrug. He went to bed with me and decided I’m not his type. Or something. When her eyes prickled with tears, she turned to look out the window. The trees were getting taller. A long way down, a tiny stream sparkled in the sunlight. A hike would be nice right about now. The car felt far too closed in.
“Did you know that Xavier’s wife died a few years ago?” Rona asked.
“Rona,” Simon said in a warning tone.
“From what people say, they were good together, and I doubt he’s ever let her go. Nowadays he sees several women at any given time, and each one is in a separate ‘box.’” Her fingers put quotes around the word. “The club play partner, the slave at home, the social date. It’s really—”
“It’s not appropriate to discuss him behind his back, lass. Would you like to be gagged for the rest of the trip?” Without looking away from the road, Simon reached out and tugged Rona’s hair.
“No, Sir. Absolutely not, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.” Rona winked at Abby, then faced the front.
Darn Simon. Just when she was getting some information. She considered smacking the back of his head, met his gaze in the mirror—eyes as black as Xavier’s and with as much power—and hastily abandoned the idea.
So Xavier hadn’t ever been serious about her in the least. He didn’t want anyone that way. Still, she obviously wasn’t even someone he’d play with at the club anymore. And that hurt.
* * * *
In a tiny mountain valley, the Mastersons’ home was sided by forest on the left, fields and fences on the right. Parked vehicles formed rows from the house to the massive barn and edged the sides of the dirt road. As Xavier shut off his car, he saw a young couple—burdened with bags, towels, and a pie—cross toward the house. An adolescent dashed past, followed by an older woman at a slower pace.
The late afternoon sun glared down on the massive two-story log cabin. A porch wrapped around the building, tying the various extensions together. From the look of the construction techniques, the cabin had apparently expanded both vertically and horizontally, which was good since Virgil Masterson had mentioned he and his two brothers lived here. With the livestock and offices for their wilderness guide business, staying on-site made sense.
It had been years since he’d been to this area, although he’d met many of the local Doms who visited San Francisco to play. The Hunts and, recently, Virgil Masterson had often been to the club. What kind of Dom had Virgil become?
Simon had said that Summer was still Masterson’s submissive. Xavier looked forward to seeing the little nurse who’d once been a Dark Haven member.
Still stalling—and knowing he was—Xavier leaned against his car. His brain felt exhausted, since he’d second-guessed his decision all the way here. What was the little fluff doing to him?
Abby had fit quite nicely into the club play partner slot—until she’d tempted him into wanting more. Never before had he run into difficulty keeping a woman within the bounds he set for her. Like Destiny. He’d enjoyed the previous long-term receptionist, been pleased with her capabilities and quirkiness, occasionally played with her in Dark Haven, but never had the urge to take it further.
With the slaves who entered his house, the minute one walked in the door, he’d begin evaluating her for her next Master. It was always a mutually agreed-upon, commitmentless arrangement.
He had boundaries for his women. But with Abby, the desire to know her more fully was like smelling coffee and bacon with a locked door barring the way to the kitchen. He’d secured the deadbolt himself.
As he thought, he watched an eagle circle overhead, probably confused by the event. He sympathized.
Ever since he’d met Abby, his memories of Catherine had grown distant—as if the bond tying him to her was eroding. Conversely sometimes it seemed as if she’d leaned over his shoulder to give him advice. He smiled ruefully. She’d been a full-time slave, wanting nothing more than to serve him. For her, he’d assumed the Master role, although it didn’t suit him—but she’d been happiest under a strict regime.
Not that it had kept her from voicing an opinion. After obtaining permission to speak freely, she’d kneel at his feet and scold him if she thought he needed it. She’d have scolded him about the coldness he’d shown to Abby.
He’d hurt the little fluff. As openhearted as Catherine had been, Abby was more vulnerable and definitely less experienced in the lifestyle and in sex.
Pulling away had seemed like a good decision, a chance to reset the boundaries, but he’d made her cry, and seeing her in tears had been like a fist to the belly. He’d wanted to hold her. To take her home and play with her there. To wake up with her in his bed and enjoy her soft mouth. To hear her husky laughter and verbally fence with her in a way he’d never experienced with a submissive.
She was supposed to stay his Dark Haven play partner, but he wanted more. Just this once he’d relax the dividing line between the club and his home. Maybe she’d be interested in exploring the lifestyle outside of the club.
“Xavier.”
He turned.
Smiling widely, Virgil Masterson crossed the gravel from the barn. The sandy-haired cop wore jeans and a T-shirt that barely stretched over his broad shoulders. “It’s damn good to see you.”
“And you.” They shook hands. “You have quite a place here.”
“We like it.” Virgil led the way toward the house. “Simon plans to arrange a wilderness trip later this summer. You should come.”
No need to tell him the lure today was a particular gray-eyed submissive. “It would be good to get away from the city more often.” It was true. He’d never allowed himself to become so city-bound before.
“I’m glad you came early enough to join the Masterson portion of the day, before everyone heads up to Serenity Lodge.” Virgil grinned. “This is the first year we’ve added adult games to the fun.”
“I thought the entire town of Bear Flat came to your barbecue. Won’t you have children here?”
“My brother keeps a fenced-off area back in the forest for black-powder rifle tournaments. The children and vanilla adults will stay here and have a war on the lawn, and the kinksters will move to the more private field of battle. Doms versus submissives.”
Xavier had a vision of winning a war with the prize a soft, sweet submissive. One with foggy gray eyes. “That sounds interesting.”
* * * *
The Mastersons were amazing. At a picnic table on the enormous deck, Abby ignored the women chatting around her and stared at the kaleidoscope of activity in the wide backyard. She’d been impressed by her parents’ annual anniversary gathering with a hundred or so guests.
The Mastersons’ Fourth of July party included the entire town of Bear Flat.
The
red, white, and blue theme ranged from the cups, plates, and table decorations, to cakes and cookies brought by guests, to bunting and streamers on the railings. Down the slope from the house, a tree-lined creek kept children occupied; other youngsters screamed down a waterslide or played soccer. A wading pool and fenced “corral” were surrounded by comfortable chairs for mothers to watch their toddlers. At the tables scattered over the lawn, older guests played poker, board games, or dominoes while hashing over gossip and politics.
“Abby, are you coming to our party tonight?” Rebecca asked. The very pregnant redhead was married to Logan Hunt, one of the brothers who owned the Serenity wilderness lodge up the mountain. Simon said the dungeon play there was the highlight of the trip.
“That’s the plan, I guess.” But who would she know? She glanced at the women. Just Rona and Lindsey? Pregnant Rebecca sure wouldn’t be doing any scenes.
Across the table sat tiny, dark-haired Kallie, wife of Jake, the other Hunt brother. Summer was married to Virgil Masterson, one of the barbecue hosts, and was as fair as Kallie was dark.
“You’re both going?” Abby asked.
“Not me and Virgil.” Summer turned sideways to rub her bare foot on a sprawled-out, half-grown dog. The spaniel closed its eyes in bliss.
Abby sighed. Her renters had been delighted to babysit the puppies, but she missed them already.
“We’ll oversee the adult war games here and call it a night. Virgil doesn’t like public scenes.” Summer pointed at Kallie, who was Virgil’s cousin. “And he never, ever wants to see Kallie playing with Jake. He said he’d have to wash his eyeballs with bleach.”
Kallie choked on her hamburger. “Trust me, the sentiment is mutual.” She grinned at Abby. “Last year Virgil had fits about me dating someone into BDSM.” She dropped her voice to a low growl. “‘Don’t fuck with her, Hunt, or I’ll pitch the badge and beat the shit out of you.’ They even got into a fight on Main Street. Then Virgil goes off and gets his own submissive. Two-faced bastard,” she said lovingly.
Oh, talk about complicated relationships. Taking a sip of her iced tea, Abby added another mental note: Must consider how other “family” dynamics affect a BDSM network. At this rate, she’d have more questions than she did answers.
Hopefully tonight she’d have a chance to scribble out her impressions. She had more late nights in front of her, but she might, might get done in time.
She smiled as the guys around the barbecue burst into laughter. At a table on the grass, two old men were amiably insulting each other over a checkerboard. A child skidded down the waterslide on his chest, screaming in excitement. So many sounds of happiness.
“Don’t worry about tonight.” Rona patted her hand. “Simon and I will watch out for you. Usually about a third of the people are from Dark Haven, and you know them.”
“It’s my first time too,” Lindsey said in her soft Texas drawl.
Kallie smiled. “A couple of people are flying in, and we’ll have the local lifestylers. There’s some good-looking Doms around here if you like the rugged type.”
Abby thought of Xavier. He went past rugged into a deadly sophistication. No, don’t think about him. How would an outside party affect the dynamics of the Dark Haven group? Would a stranger enhance the “family” solidarity or detract from it? “Do the groups interact well together?”
“Pretty much,” Rebecca said. “The locals are less into edgy costumes, but there’s no difference in how people play.”
“Costumes?” Abby’s stomach took a nosedive. “Uh. I’m not sure how to dress. Is this, like, formal fetwear, or a jeans and T-shirt party?”
Rebecca frowned. “Why would any woman wear a T-shirt? Talk about unattractive.”
“It’s Becca’s mission,” Kallie said, “to put women into sexy clothing. She did the same for me last year.”
Becca sniffed. “Before meeting Logan, I dressed like a businesswoman, but he showed me that men enjoy a woman’s curves and how to show them off.”
“Apparently he enjoyed more than just your curves, girl.” Summer lifted an eyebrow at Becca’s eight-months-and-counting stomach.
“Brat.”
“You win.” Abby grinned at Becca. “I’ll donate my T-shirts to charity when I get home.”
“That’s the spirit.” Rubbing her stomach, Becca gave Summer a victorious smirk. “But really, anything you want to wear tonight is fine. If you’re submissive, you probably won’t have much on by the end of the night.”
“Well, see who came for the barbecue,” Rona said, motioning to the right. “I thought he didn’t come to Bear Flat.”
When Abby turned, her heart stuttered to a halt.
With Virgil beside him, Xavier strode across the lawn toward the deck, his gaze on her. He looked…amazing. Dark tan, carved facial features, black jeans worn smooth with use, a western shirt in a subtle dark plaid, and well-worn boots. A black cowboy hat shaded his face and made his eyes unreadable.
He shook hands with Jake Hunt before Simon walked over and said something. Xavier’s smile appeared, and he gave her another long stare before turning back to the men.
“I’ve never seen Xavier look at a woman with that kind of heat. Whew,” Summer said. “Now I understand why Victorian women carried fans.”
“You know him?” Abby asked. “I thought you lived here. With Virgil.”
“I used to live in San Francisco. In fact, I met Virgil at Dark Haven during a western night calf-roping game.”
“Let me guess—you were the calf?”
“Yep.” Summer laughed ruefully. “Xavier, ever so sweetly, handed me over to the one Dom in San Francisco who had ridden rodeo. Virg had me thrown and hog-tied in seconds.”
When the laughter died, Rebecca leaned back, her hands resting on her stomach. “I’ve never seen Xavier except at his club.” She smiled. “Daylight doesn’t diminish him at all, does it?”
Just the opposite, if that was possible. Abby watched the sunshine glow over his dusky coloring, aquiline nose, and strong jaw. He had the most elegant mixture of Native American and European ancestry she’d ever seen. A boy ran up to him, apparently admiring the thick black braid down his back. With a quicksilver smile, Xavier knelt to talk.
How could he appear so approachable yet be so distant with her? “Why is he here?”
“No telling. He’s a puzzle,” Rona said. “But Simon loves him like a brother. And he’s definitely focused on you, honey.” Her lips twitched. “Rebecca, we’ll have to make sure our Abby looks extremely seductive this evening.”
“I…I don’t think he’s interested, but thanks.” Oh heavens, he was headed straight for them. If he yelled at her, she’d burst into tears. She glanced at the door to the house behind her and wondered if she could escape.
XAVIER HAD STOOD for a moment, enjoying the festivities. The mingling of ages, from babies to old ones, reminded him of the parties his mother had taken him to when he’d been young. Then his father had decided his heir shouldn’t be tainted by a Native American heritage and had shipped him off to a European boarding school. His gut clenched. Far in the past, Leduc.
He walked toward the deck, taking in the sight of his pretty summer toy. Her fluffy hair glinted in the sunlight, her cheeks were pink, and the dark red top fit over her full breasts so low and tight that he hardened.
Halfway up the steps, he held his hand out to her. Their conversation needed to be private.
She stared at him, reluctance and pain and something else—almost fear—in her gaze, yet she came to him with a sweet compliance that melted his heart. She stopped one step above him, as if making sure she could run. “I didn’t think you attended these parties.”
Would she rather he hadn’t? Unable to resist, he slid his hands under her shirt and over her bare skin. In the bright light he saw her pupils dilate and her lips redden. She roused so easily to his touch. He intended to rouse her more. Later.
“I wanted to be with you.” The honesty he tried to maintain d
emanded this acknowledgment.
“Really?” Her surprised expression saddened him. He’d shaken her confidence in herself. Even worse, she didn’t believe him. He framed her face with his hands and held her long enough to give her a hard, claiming kiss in case any men nearby had thoughts. In consideration of the children, he broke off before he wanted.
She’d curled her small fingers around his wrists, and her gray eyes had gone smoky. Lovely.
As he ran a finger over her lips, he looked forward to seeing them swollen from his mouth, his cock. If she wasn’t careful, even a gag. “Come with me. We’re going to talk.”
Taking her wrist firmly—he’d seen how she’d checked for escape routes—Xavier led her across the sloping lawn. He stopped beside a table with a chessboard set up.
“White or black?” he asked politely.
She flinched at the sound of his voice. Her gaze flickered up and away, and under his fingers her pulse was speeding, which seemed strange. He often took a submissive to the edge of fear, but this wasn’t a scene, and he hadn’t pushed Abby at all. “Why are you nervous?”
“I’m not.”
A lie. His mouth tightened.
She swallowed before asking in a near whisper, “Are you mad at me?”
She was worried he was angry? He studied her more closely. Yes, she looked like a child called to the headmaster’s office. Odd. The most painful reprimand he’d ever given her was a few swats of his hand. “Why would you think I’d be mad at you, little fluff?”
Her clear gray eyes were wide, and he didn’t resist the urge to move closer. Her rounded chin fit into the palm of his hand. “Tell me, Abby.”
“I…I don’t know. You look… I don’t know what you’re thinking, and you’re not smiling.” Her hands clenched together, and a shiver ran down her frame.
“You’re afraid of me?” He had trouble believing it. Her lack of fear had been one of the reasons she’d drawn him.
“I…” She swallowed and seemed to give herself a mental shake before really looking at him. “You’re not mad, are you?”
There. Back with him again. She definitely had some odd headspaces. “Absolutely not. I’m angry with myself for hurting you, Abby. But you’ve done nothing wrong at all.”
My Liege of Dark Haven Page 13