Sally was a bubbly, talkative little submissive who’d been part of the club for maybe five years. None of the other trainees had been around as long. Raoul rubbed his chin. Ever since his mamá and sister’s visit this morning, he’d wondered how they’d learned about Alicia’s betrayal. The only person he’d told had been Dan, and his friend never revealed a confidence.
But no one paid attention to the submissives in the club. They’d been trained to be invisible. Perhaps too invisible. Could she have overheard something when he’d been talking with Dan?
Sally peeked over her shoulder, saw him watching her, and jerked back around.
Hmm. Not looking away, he drank his beer.
“Sandoval, how are you doing?” Vance Buchanan walked out the door onto the patio, Kouros beside him. “Who’re you staring at?”
Raoul nodded toward the group of submissives. “The little brunette.”
The two FBI agents turned. Sally darted a look at Raoul and saw all three men looking at her. The color flared in her cheeks. She edged closer to Jessica.
“If she was my sub,” Kouros said, “I be wondering what she’d been up to.”
Buchanan grinned. “Yep, looks guilty as hell, but she’s the prettiest little perp I’ve ever seen.”
Raoul considered. If Sally had been the one to tell his family about Alicia, she’d done him a favor. Yet a submissive should know better than to divulge a dom’s private affairs. As a trainee in the Shadowlands, she fell under the authority of all the Masters—including him. He didn’t have the heart to punish her but was obligated to teach her discretion. “I think I know what’s up, and a bit of intimidation would be appropriate,” he said. “Want to interrogate her while I watch?”
Kouros leaned on his cane. “It would be a pleasure.” He waited until Sally turned, then gestured. Come here.
The color drained from her face, and Buchanan covered his laugh with a cough.
She crossed to them, all bounce gone, her gaze down. Across the patio, Z looked up, studied the situation for a second, grinned, and returned to talking with Olivia and Sam.
Jessica was watching, her brows drawn together. Definitely worried. Raoul leaned over to Kouros. “Better hurry, or Z’s sub will spoil the fun with either a confession or a tantrum.”
Kouros followed his gaze, and his lips quirked. “Got it.”
Sally stopped in front of the men and lifted her chin. “Did you need something, Sirs?”
Raoul smiled at her. “Trainee, these two doms want to speak with you.” His use of the word trainee put her on notice that she was expected to obey.
“Yes, Master Raoul.”
Buchanan moved behind her, blocking the sight of her from the other submissives.
Kouros stepped forward. Big men, both doms, intimidating in size and personality. “What we need from you is the truth,” Kouros said, his clipped New England accent striking the sub like sparks from a low burning fire.
Sally tried to back up and bumped into Buchanan. He grinned at Raoul over her head. “But—”
“We’ll start with something easy,” Kouros purred, setting his hand under her chin. “What is your name?”
“Sally, Sir.” She made an obvious effort to stand straight, but Raoul could see her melting under the force of Kouros’s personality. Experienced doms, years as FBI agents—the girl didn’t have a chance.
“Very nice, Sally. You can tell the truth, see?” His voice turned silky with approval. His free hand stroked her hair back behind her ear, both a caress—and exposing her face more.
She stared up at him like a cornered mouse, an unusual change in the spirited sub.
Buchanan stroked her bare arms, adding to the sense of reward.
“Now tell me what you did to Master Raoul,” Kouros demanded, his voice as cold as a New England winter.
She moaned, her hands rubbing on her hips in a self-comforting motion. She tried to look at Raoul, but Kouros shifted, keeping her gaze on his face.
Raoul smothered a smile, making mental notes. He rather liked interrogation scenes, and this one was pretty lightweight…except for Sally’s obvious guilt and the agent’s undeniable experience with breaking down hardened criminals.
“N-nothing.” She pulled in a breath, lifted her chin. “I haven’t even seen him for a long time.”
“Oh, you definitely did something, little one,” Kouros said softly. “I don’t want to get angry with you, sweetheart.” He moved closer until she could probably feel his body heat, until she had to tilt her head back to stare up at him. “There are other things Vance and I would rather do…to you.”
Her eyes got bigger, and the combination of anxiety and sudden arousal was a fine sight.
“What are you doing?” Jessica stepped around Buchanan. She actually shoved Kouros back a step and pulled Sally out from between the two agents. “Leave her alone!”
As Buchanan and Kouros moved back, Sally recovered her spirit. Her spine straightened, although she quickly edged out of grabbing distance.
“Ah well.” Ignoring glares that should have fried his ass, Buchanan grinned at Raoul. “How about drinks for two hard-working agents?”
“It would be my pleasure.” Raoul looked for the other agent.
Using his cane to block Jessica, Kouros cornered Sally again. When his eyes met hers, she froze. “We’ll continue this at another time, pet,” he murmured. “And I assure you, you will tell us everything we want to know.” He ran a finger down her flushed cheek and smiled.
As the Fed turned away, Raoul saw Sally shiver. Then her hands fisted. “Not until hell freezes over,” she muttered, just loudly enough to hear.
As Jessica slung an arm around her waist and escorted her friend back to the safety of the submissive group, Kouros joined Buchanan.
Raoul grinned at him. He had a feeling Sally would probably disappear into the bathroom the next time she spotted the agents. “Let me get you a beer, Kouros.”
After Raoul had taken care of his guests and introduced them to a couple of the doms they hadn’t met, he returned to check the barbecue. He loaded up a platter with chicken and handed it to Joey to put on the table.
“Hey, Raoul,” Gabi called from the back door. Her hand was in her dom’s in the way they had of walking with fingers laced, and Raoul firmly stomped on his envy. As she and Marcus crossed the patio, Raoul frowned at how stiffly she moved. Had she been spanked? No, it was the more gingerly movement of a submissive unaccustomed to walking around with an anal plug. Both her and Jessica? He’d think they’d been up to something together, but Marcus had said they weren’t going to the Shadowlands last night.
Raoul shook his head in confusion and kissed Gabi’s cheek. After dutifully admiring her current arm tattoos of SpongeBob—the same yellow as her halter top—he slapped Marcus’s arm. “Welcome, my friends. There is beer in the dark coolers and wine in the light cooler.”
“You look like hell,” Marcus said, his accent making the word sound like hey-all.
“Geez, Marcus, were you raised in a barn?” Gabi frowned, then looked over her dom’s shoulder and grinned, bouncing once on her toes.
Raoul followed her gaze, and his muscles went rigid. Kimberly?
Dios, she was a vision in the afternoon sunlight, wearing a pretty strapless sundress, the blue the color of her eyes. Her black hair shone like a raven’s wing, rippling over her tanned shoulders. He walked forward a few steps, then had second thoughts. Not your woman, Sandoval. Don’t want a woman. Be polite, then keep your distance.
Uncertainty crossed her face as she stared at him, and his hand went out before he knew, offering anything she needed from him. If she ran from him again, he wouldn’t be able to bear it. His mouth tightened. No. He did not want to walk this path.
Before he could withdraw his gesture, she crossed the last few steps and set her small hand into his. Unable to help himself, he drank in the sight of her, feeling as if the empty places in his heart were filling. Her hand in his trembled slightl
y, and he told himself to release her, but his fingers wouldn’t open.
“Kimberly.” His voice came out ragged. But at least she wasn’t throwing up at the sight of him, although it might be easier on him if she did. “I’m sorry about yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” Her gaze moved over his face, and she seemed as hungry for him as he was for her. “Yesterday. Oh…right. The courthouse,” she said. “God, I’m sorry, M—Raoul. Sam said you thought you’d made me sick, but that wasn’t it. I saw the Overseer. He came out of the courtroom right behind you, and when I heard his voice…” Her color faded.
She hadn’t been reacting to me. The blast of relief was like having his chest cracked open. His mouth tightened. He didn’t want to feel like this.
“Well.” He needed to stop this now, not lead her on. Not encourage her. He pulled his hand back. “It’s good to see you again. You’re looking well.”
Kim’s hand felt empty, as if yearning to take his again. She stared up at him. He looked tired, but oh, his face was even more darkly tanned, his black hair shaggy, brushing the collar of his blue short-sleeved shirt. The touch of his hand—just the damned touch—had sent a thrill through her.
For a moment, his eyes had started to smolder, but now he looked remote. Cold. Like he’d been at the auction. But that expression had been for the slavers—never for her. Did he no longer…?
She swallowed. “I—”
“They’re here!” Jessica yelled. People turned to look.
Dan walked out and held the door for Kari, who held a tiny bundle in her arms. The baby. “Oh, look how little,” Kim whispered.
Master R tilted his head. “You haven’t seen the child yet, have you?”
“But…” I want to stay with you.
“Go see the baby, Kimberly.”
An order. A definite go away. A frozen ball took up residence in the pit of her stomach.
She shouldn’t have come. Why had she been so silly, building a castle of dreams made of sand? It only took a wave to wash it away.
She made her feet cross the patio and joined the women surrounding Dan, Kari, and the baby. Beth frowned, cast a quick look at Master R, and put an arm around Kim’s waist. Andrea stepped to her other side, her brows pulling together.
Kari smiled a welcome and glanced in Master R’s direction. “It’s about time you came back, Kim. He’s been a bear.”
“No kidding,” Dan muttered.
Why did hearing that make her feel better? Not that it changed anything. Accept it, Kim. He’s made the decision for you. And she needed to concentrate on her friends now. Not spoil Kari’s moment with unhappiness. She forced a smile “Let’s see this new baby.”
Kari flipped back the light blanket to reveal the baby’s face and grinned at the “Awwws” and “Oooos.” “Meet Zane.” Black hair, blue eyes like Dan’s, a little chin and nose like Kari’s.
Grumbling, Dan retreated from the crowd of women, casting a glance over his shoulder as if checking to be sure his two charges were safe.
Unable to resist, Kim reached out. Look at the tiny hand. His fingers closed around her thumb. “He’s precious, Kari.”
Kari grinned. “He really is.” The tenderness in her eyes as she stared at her baby, then across to Dan, matched the way Dan’s face softened, showing his pride and…love.
Kim swallowed, her throat clogging with envy, then said, “I missed the baby shower, but Gabi told me this is a baby celebration, so I got you a present this morning. Got him a present, I mean.” She dug into the canvas bag she had over her shoulder and handed over the gaily wrapped package.
Jessica took Zane as Kari opened the gift, then laughed and held up the blue onesie to show the writing on the front: I give the orders around here, then the back: Master Zane. Kari gurgled a laugh. “Oh, it’s true. He’s totally in charge. When Zane cries, even the big dom of the house comes running.” She touched the baby’s hair. “And I love it. It’s just so…” Kari smiled down at her son.
Satisfying, Kim filled in. Up at all hours of the night, tending to every need. And Kari was happy.
Was that what a master got back from a relationship?
Kim shook her head. She’d never tended much except boats—then again, even boats need care. Patching and cleaning, oiling and barnacle scraping, doing all the tedious things that kept it running well. She never begrudged the chores, because a sturdy vessel would hold up in a storm, would bring you back to shore, would never let you down. She looked over at Master R. He was her boat.
Dan worked his way to Kari and kissed her. “I set up the carrier and monitor in the little living room for when you’re ready to feed him and put him down for his nap.” Grinning, he took the baby. “My turn to show him off before he decides he’s starving.” He snuggled his son against him and headed toward the doms.
Andrea grinned. “He’s so proud, it’s cute.”
Kari snickered. “Don’t be a smarty. Can you imagine how your Cullen would act?”
“Pretty much like that. Wouldn’t they all?” Andrea’s smile softened as Cullen touched Zane’s cheek, pleasure filling his face. “He wants children, so we’ll be locking up the dungeon furniture sooner or later.”
“Hiding the equipment?” Beth stared at her scar-faced dom and the gentle way he’d taken the baby’s fingers as if marveling at how small next to his big hand. Beth’s eyes narrowed. “That’s what Nolan was drawing last night—dungeon furniture that converts into bedroom furniture.”
“If he sells it, he’ll get rich. Richer.” Jessica grinned. “Dan and Kari have started a trend. Look at those so-called hard-asses.”
Kim sighed. The doms’ faces turned gentle when they looked at the baby. Then each would gaze over at his submissive as if imagining her with his child. “I bet some birth control pills are going to get dumped in the next few months.”
“Dios, after seeing the baby, I might not protest too much,” Andrea muttered. “Maybe I’ll let Cullen marry me after all.”
“Respectability sucks.” Jessica pouted. “Z said no babies until we get married, and Mom’s insisting on a church wedding. You know how long those take to plan?”
“I know the feeling,” Beth grumbled. “I still can’t believe mine bribed Nolan to delay our wedding. With wine, no less. Men are so easy.”
Kari laughed. “I can’t believe you took less than two weeks for a honeymoon.”
Beth colored. “It wasn’t as if I got to see much of anything besides the bed anyway.”
Smiling, Kim watched as Dan and his son got to Sam. Sam already had grown children, didn’t he? He smiled at the baby and said something to Dan that made him laugh.
Then Master R reached out, and Dan actually put the baby in his arms. He held the little bundle easily, and a smile flashed in his dark face as tiny fists appeared out of the blanket. He rubbed his knuckles over the baby’s cheek, and Kim remembered how he’d do that with her when he was especially pleased or tender.
As he passed the baby to Dan, he smiled, and maybe only Kim saw the touch of envy. Her heart wrenched when, as the other men had done, his gaze came to rest on her, the heat, the sheer desire so potent that her feet started across the patio. Just because he’d shown her his need.
But he shook his head and turned away, checking the food he was cooking on the giant barbecue.
She halted. He doesn’t want me. Or he doesn’t want to. She wanted to give him everything. Starting with herself. But he didn’t feel the same. She stood in the center of the patio. Needing to retreat. Needing to go forward. Still as torn as she’d been since the night he bought her.
Sam had been talking with Cullen, but he paused. He stared at her for a minute, his face expressionless, then leaned over and spoke to Master R.
Master R’s muscles contracted beneath his thin cotton shirt before he slowly turned. With an unreadable expression, he walked over and stood beside her, pretending to watch Kari. “He’s a pretty baby, no?” He didn’t touch her. Didn’t smile.
&n
bsp; “Yes.” She stared at her feet. He’d only said he loved her that one time. Dammit, she shouldn’t have come. This was unbearable. She glanced up and saw the smoldering need in his gaze, like a surge of electricity to her own desire. And then he buried it again.
“Damn you,” she whispered.
He frowned. “Chiquita, what is wrong?” He touched her, the graze of his knuckles, the tenderness exactly as with the baby. This man would never take his loved ones for granted; she knew that right down to the bottom of her heart. He’d cherish and protect, care for with everything in him.
He doesn’t want me though. But she wanted him. And she was tired of trying to make a decision. Let him decide for both of us—hey, that’s what he wants, right? To be in charge?
And suddenly, it was so easy after all. Turning her head, she kissed his fingers and saw him freeze. She let her bag drop to the pavement and slipped down to her knees.
Over the pounding of her heart, she heard a squeak. Jessica.
She pulled her bag closer. It held something she’d cried over, thrown across the room, kissed, hated and cursed, and then cuddled at night. The concrete was hot against her legs. The scent of the ocean hung in the air as she took out the collar he’d given her, the one she’d found on the stairs the night of the auction. The leather was smooth, and she traced her fingers over the words Master Raoul’s gatita.
Am I still?
She laid it over her palms, trying to bow her head but failing. She needed to see his face or she might die. She raised it up. “May I wear your collar, Master?” she asked and heard no sound on the patio at all except the surging of the ocean and the hammering of her heart.
His silence terrified her. For a moment, his eyes kindled as if a fire had lit behind them, and his breath ran ragged. Then his face grew remote… Her Master R had stepped behind his walls. His voice was gentle but firm. “No. I’m sorry, Kimberly. I cannot be your master.”
Like a knife wound, his words sliced through her, cutting open her flesh, driving ruthlessly into her chest. The pain arrived a second later. Her protest escaped before she could think. “But… You wanted this. Wanted me.”
To Command and Collar Page 34