DESIRE - Gabby & Daniel (Fettered Book 3)

by Lilia Moon

  Desire (Fettered #3)

  Gabby & Daniel

  Lilia Moon

  Contents

  Copyright

  1. Gabby

  2. Daniel

  3. Gabby

  4. Daniel

  5. Gabby

  6. Gabby

  7. Daniel

  8. Gabby

  9. Daniel

  10. Gabby

  11. Daniel

  12. Gabby

  13. Daniel

  14. Gabby

  15. Daniel

  16. Gabby

  17. Daniel

  18. Gabby

  19. Daniel

  20. Gabby

  21. Daniel

  22. Gabby

  23. Daniel

  24. Gabby

  25. Daniel

  26. Gabby

  27. Daniel

  28. Gabby

  29. Daniel

  30. Gabby

  31. Daniel

  32. Gabby

  33. Daniel

  34. Gabby

  35. Daniel

  36. Gabby

  37. Daniel

  38. Gabby

  39. Daniel

  40. Gabby

  41. Daniel

  42. Gabby

  43. Daniel

  44. Gabby

  45. Gabby

  46. Daniel

  47. Gabby

  48. Daniel

  49. Gabby

  50. Daniel

  51. Gabby

  52. Daniel

  53. Gabby

  54. Daniel

  55. Gabby

  56. Daniel

  57. Gabby

  58. Epilogue - Gabby

  59. Epilogue - Daniel

  Note from Lilia

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2016 by Lilia Moon

  Borrowing my words to make money is a hard limit. Using them to fuel your own fantasies is totally encouraged!

  xoxo Lilia

  Chapter One

  Gabby

  I shake my head at the never-ending task list on my laptop. “Why do people get married at Christmas? Isn’t there enough chaos in December?”

  Scorpio looks up from her manic wreath-making and nods. “Preach it, sister.”

  I read the text of a recent email and sigh before I log it into our client management system. “Marianna wants to know if she can walk through snow when she gets out of the horse-drawn carriage.”

  “She knows this is Seattle, right?” Meghan looks up from the new marketing folders she’s assembling.

  I hide a smile at the brochure she’s waving as she speaks. “Don’t give one of those to a vanilla bride by accident.”

  She snorts, but she’s not looking nearly as embarrassed as she did when Leo first showed her the brochure mock-ups. We’re definitely the only wedding planners in town with marketing materials that feature an adoring husband holding tight to his cuffed-and-blindfolded bride.

  I hope they help bring in more of those clients. My cheeks turn red a lot, but they’re some of our nicest couples, and they deserve the weddings of their dreams too.

  Emily refills her mug from the tray in the middle of the table and smiles at me. “Thank you for the hot cider, Gabby. You take very good care of us.”

  I like doing it. Twenty-six years as a single mom and I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if somebody didn’t need hot drinks and warm hugs. “I can teach Damon how to make it for you. He’ll be in my class this afternoon.”

  She and Scorpio exchange wicked grins.

  I duck my head, torn between embarrassment and silly pride. “It’s a cooking class. I have no idea why you two get sex afterward.”

  Scorpio grins. “Because they come home and practice what you’ve taught them, and then we have sexy men in aprons in our kitchens.”

  I’m willing to bet my house and everything in it that Harlan’s never worn an apron. “Do you have any requests for things you’d like them to learn how to cook?”

  Emily giggles, which is a sound I hear from my boss about as often as it snows in Seattle. “Something that takes a long time to burn.”

  Meghan groans and lays her head on the table. “Dry spell here, ladies—have some sympathy. I haven’t had sex in months. You guys are killing me.”

  My dry spell is more like years, but that’s by choice. I had babies to raise, and single motherhood never left much time for sexy evenings.

  Leo reaches over and pats Meghan’s hand. “We can help find you a nice boy—just say the word.”

  She whacks him with a bondage-themed catering menu. “All the men you know would want to do each other. Or spank me.”

  That might not be so bad. Most of the Doms in my cooking class are very sweet.

  Leo snorts. “I know some straight guys. And you might like getting spanked.”

  I look down at my computer, flustered, because Leo’s talking to Meghan, but he’s looking at me. “Um, so who wants to tell Marianna she can’t have snow with her carriage?”

  Emily sighs. “I’ll take that one. You and Meghan are too nice and then I’ll have to go hunt up a snow fairy and trade her my firstborn child.”

  The room goes dead silent.

  Emily stares at all of us and then cracks up laughing. “No. Not pregnant. Not even close. Get your minds out of my uterus, people.”

  “Too bad.” Scorpio tosses another holly wreath on her growing pile. “Fettered would make a great place for a baby shower.”

  Emily smiles sweetly at her. “Then that’s where we’ll hold one when you and Harlan make a baby.”

  Scorpio just keeps managing greenery. “You can put that in the schedule for right after hell freezes over.”

  I’m guessing it will happen sooner than that, but I don’t say anything. I was seventeen when Jules was born, and adopted two more by the time she was five. I’m the last grandmother on Earth to rush anyone into babies before they’re ready. I just spoil the heck out of them when they arrive.

  Leo suddenly looks up. “Sam and I are thinking about it.”

  This time the quiet is full of misty-eyed surprise.

  I can totally see Leo as a daddy. I reach over and hug him, just because. “Surrogate or adoption?”

  “Adoption.” He takes a deep breath. “We’ve done most of our interviews and certifications. They say that because Sam is Hispanic and birth moms like to choose families who will share their culture that we might get a baby without a long wait.”

  That’s a whole lot further along than thinking about it.

  “I’ll get to be an auntie.” Scorpio grins. “You don’t mind if I teach your kid punk-rock lullabies, right?”

  Meghan snorts. “You better adopt two, or you’ll never see them.”

  They might not. I’m very good at baby kidnapping. It’s a joy to hold them and listen to their belly giggles and their sleepy whiffles and then to give them back and have some time to breathe and be me. Being a single mom was the most important thing I ever did—but also the hardest. Being a grandmother is just plain fun. “Jules has all the baby things, so don’t go out and buy stuff.”

  Leo nods, and he looks a little pale. “They said it could happen really fast when it happens. That we could wait years and then get two days’ notice.”

  That’s about how much notice I got when Emily hired me—and that’s working out better than I ever could have imagined.

  Sometimes ass-over-tea-kettle change is a really good thing.

  Chapter Two

  Daniel

  “Hey, Daniel—what the heck are you doing lurking in the hall?”

  I brace myself just before Harlan’s wallop lands between my shoulder blades. That much hasn
’t changed—the man can still fell trees with his bare hands.

  He raises an eyebrow. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you here.”

  It has. The club feels like a skin that doesn’t quite fit anymore. But it’s still got people I call friends, and it’s been too long since I’ve come to see them. I sling an arm over Harlan’s shoulder and head for the boss man’s office. “How are things going with Scorpio?” I’ve picked up the rumors at our weekly poker game, but they’ve been low on details.

  He grins. “Show up Friday night and you can hear her band. They’re pretty good.”

  If the pride rolling off him is any indication, either she’s amazing or he’s so far gone she could be tone deaf and he wouldn’t care. “You look happy.”

  His grin gets wider—and takes on a slightly evil tinge. “Remember you said that.”

  My instincts are suddenly humming, just like they do when one of my business deals is about to surprise me. I eyeball the man beside me, trying to get a better read. “I don’t suppose you happen to know why Damon’s suddenly requested my presence.”

  Harlan doesn’t even try to look innocent. He just stops outside Damon’s office door and waves me in. “After you, old man.”

  I’m only ten years older than the two of them, but sometimes that decade feels like an eternity. I walk into the room and focus on the man behind the desk. He looks a lot different than he did a few months ago. The savvy, capable businessman part hasn’t changed—but his eyes are lighter. He’s more relaxed. “Love looks good on you.”

  Damon shakes my hand and sits back down, grinning. “It looks even better on Harlan.”

  The big man beside me growls.

  I want to growl back and tell them not to take what they’ve fallen into for granted. Which surprises me, because I’m not a guy who begrudges anyone else their happiness. This place just reminds me too much of my holes. I lean back in my chair and take a bottle of the water Harlan’s passing out. “So I’m guessing you didn’t call me here to bail you out from the loan sharks.” I keep my ear to the ground—Damon might have been young and green when I backed him to open the club, but he’s not anywhere near there anymore.

  He grins. “Nope. I considered opening another location, but I already spend too much time with my head in spreadsheets.”

  It takes a smart man to know when he’s got what he wants. “If you change your mind, it better be my door you knock on.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t think I will. I have other things to keep me busy these days.” He’s watching me as he says it, which has my radar springing to attention again.

  Harlan leans back in his chair. “We haven’t seen you for ages, and you better not be playing anywhere else.” He pauses and tries to look casual. “Unless you have yourself a nice, cozy sub at home you haven’t told us about.”

  I stifle a grin. They shouldn’t give up their day jobs. “Is there something you wanted to ask, gentlemen?”

  They both scowl at me—and then I hear giggles from the doorway.

  I turn around, recognizing the cheerful young woman who’s just shown up.

  She shakes her head at the other two men in the office. “You guys suck at this.”

  I smile. Ari wasn’t added to the club staff until after I left, but it didn’t take her long to make an impression on me—and I’m a wily enough negotiator to recognize when the real power has just stepped into the room. “Perhaps you might tell me what it is they’re up to, then.”

  She sniffs and plops down in the only unoccupied chair. I watch as she subtly angles it toward me, which is a Dom trick older than the hills. I use it in boardrooms all the time. She takes a sip of Harlan’s water and then surveys me up and down long enough to make me consider offering her a job on the spot. “They’re trying to play matchmaker. Which I would totally spank them for, but I think maybe they’re on to something.”

  I can see the finger she’s trying to wrap me around. I raise an eyebrow—I’m not quite as easy to manipulate as she thinks. Or as distractible. “You look plenty capable of finding your own man, sweetheart.”

  She’s laughing even before I finish—and despite the growls from the two Neanderthals in the room, well aware that I’m kidding. “We have this friend. Her name is Gabby, and she’s sweet and wonderful and we think she’s getting kink curious, so we’re trying to find her a nice Dom to play with.”

  I’m not entirely stupid. I wink at her. “One who’s an old man?”

  She looks a little sheepish. “Gabby’s forty-three and she has three grown daughters and two of the cutest granddaughters ever and she’d just try to take care of a baby Dom and he’d probably let her.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “If you ever want a different job, come find me.”

  She blinks.

  Damon manages to mostly swallow his laugh. “Congratulations—very few people can render Ari speechless. Also, you can’t have her.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Focus, people. We’re trying to get Gabby hooked up here.”

  I can absolutely see her being the engineer of that, except for one small detail. She hardly knows me. Which means at least one of the big strong men in the room is playing assistant matchmaker. I place my bet and look over at Damon. “Was this your idea?”

  He has the grace to look a little embarrassed. “Yes. Partly because at this point we’re just guessing about her curiosity, and you’ll be able to make her feel good no matter what her preferences are. There aren’t many Doms who straddle kink and vanilla as well as you do.”

  I didn’t when I was his age. In the last decade I’ve learned that sex is a spectrum. “Has she asked for any kind of intro to this lifestyle?”

  Damon punts that one to his manager.

  Harlan shrugs. “Not in so many words. She works with Emily and Scorpio, so she’s getting plenty of secondhand information. Quint was the first one to peg her as curious, and I agree with him.”

  There aren’t two better judges of female desire anywhere. “So why doesn’t Quint work with her a little?”

  Harlan actually turns a little red. “She brings us cookies and stuff.”

  I manage not to laugh. This cookie-baking grandmother, whoever she is, has apparently unmanned a whole sex club.

  Ari leans forward, and while she’s got a decent poker face, her eyes are a very big tell. “She’s really sweet, Daniel. Generous and funny and honest and smart. She raised her three girls by herself but now she’s done and she totally deserves someone who will spoil her a little and help her have some fun.”

  I eye her. “So why aren’t you finding her some nice man who will bring her flowers and chocolate?”

  She grins at me. “You totally will.”

  I’ve done business deals on five continents—I don’t squirm for anyone. Especially not someone almost young enough to be my daughter. “If she wants a tour of the lifestyle, the flowers and chocolates will just be confusing.” Especially from a semi-retired Dom who hasn’t ever had a relationship last longer than a few months. “It sounds like she might be pretty ripe for getting hurt, too.”

  They’re all nodding, but it’s Damon who leans forward. “You never spend more than a few weeks with a sub, but you always manage to end things as friends. You won’t fuck with her if she gets vulnerable.”

  This order is getting taller by the minute. I look at the blonde power broker who has me exactly where she wants me. “So let’s see if I have this straight. You want me to introduce myself to a nice grandmother who’s never stepped her littlest toe into our lifestyle, and if I hurt her sometime in the few weeks while I’m trying to play nicely, these two bozos will take turns pounding my face into unrecognizable mush.”

  She nods and pats my knee. “Pretty much. Except those two probably aren’t the ones you need to worry about. Their subs would get to you first and I’d hold their cloaks.”

  This sounds like pretty much the worst idea ever—but they’ve used my biggest weakness against me. I’m intrigued. “Is there a w
ay for me to meet her and assess things without having this turn into a train wreck?”

  Ari’s face manages to stay fairly neutral, but her eyes are doing a victory dance. “She’s running a Dom cooking lesson later this afternoon. Why don’t you stop by?”

  I can feel my brain exploding. “Dom cooking lesson?”

  Ari just grins.

  Shit. I’m definitely intrigued. Hook and line, meet sinker.

  Chapter Three

  Gabby

  There are already people in the kitchen when I arrive. I smile at the one nearest the door, who doesn’t look old enough to shave, much less use a flogger. “Hello, Emilio. How did the birthday cake work out?”

  He smiles wryly. “It fell totally flat in the middle and it looked like I recruited a preschool class to help with the icing, but she loved it.”

  I kiss his cheek. “Of course she did.”

  Jacob waves at me from a stool by the counter. “Hey, how come Emilio’s getting private cake lessons?”

  The younger Dom looks a little worried until Harlan throws a spatula at his head. “Ignore him. He’s just jealous because you got cake sex and he didn’t.”

  I try not to blush. I’ve been doing these lessons for two months now and I’m still not used to how often sex comes up in casual conversation. Or how often it’s apparently triggered by baked goods.

  Jacob growls. “Cut it out, people—we’re embarrassing Gabby again.”

  Quint walks in with Ari hot on his heels. “Damon says to start without him. Some kind of urgent business thing came up.”

  Harlan glances up. “Do I need to go deal with it?”

  Ari grins. “Nope, you need to learn how to make soufflés so that Scorpio will forgive you for making her wear that maid costume again.”

  Emilio looks up. “What’s wrong with the maid costume? I thought she looked cute.”

  It’s Harlan’s turn to growl. “Get your own woman.”

  “I do. Sometimes two at a time.”

  The spatula flies across the room again, and I put on my stern face. “The next one who throws a kitchen implement will be on cleanup duty all by himself.”

  They try to look suitably chastened, which is something they’re all terribly bad at.

  That’s okay—it makes it a lot easier for me that cooking with Doms really isn’t all that different from cooking with small children. I start to pull out the ingredients for today’s lesson. It’s not a big job—I’m a get-the-job-done kind of cook, not a fancy one. “Soufflés are fun because they aren’t very hard to make. Five minutes of prep, then throw them in the oven and twenty minutes later you have something to impress the ladies at your table.” I smile at Ari. “Or the men.”