All's Fair in Love and Mastery

by Sparrow Beckett

  “I wasn’t being a baby about losing cell service. I was being a baby about you thinking you’re Bear Grylls and telling me to take the map out of the glove compartment.” She held a hand out at the storage compartment in question, as though to ward it off. “I’m a city girl. If you want to know how to get somewhere, you ask the cabbie, not a piece of origami paper with random blue squiggles.”

  “Take a look at it! It’s not that complicated, little miss drama queen.”

  She ignored his suggestion that she should take the map out again. Did she look like a Girl Scout?

  “I wish I’d had my friendship safeword at that point. That sucker never would have made it out of the glove compartment. Not all of us took an orienteering course at their fancy boarding school, rich boy.”

  He gave a soft, angry laugh. “It’s your own fault for being so lovable. Your parents never wanted to get rid of you, so now you’re stuck relying on your phone for directions.” He clicked his tongue in disapproval. “At least when the zombie apocalypse comes I’ll know how to build a campfire.”

  She fretted at her lip, not sure whether to drop it or press for more information. His boarding school experience had always been something he tiptoed around. It sounded worse every time she got a new bit of information.

  “You never talk about boarding school much. Did you like it there?”

  A muscle flexed in his square jaw. “Greystone Academy? Kim wasn’t there. That’s about the only thing that the place had going for it. It was supposed to toughen us up, so you can imagine.”

  Well, she couldn’t imagine, but she also didn’t want to push him to talk about something sensitive when they’d just decided on a truce. His stepmother sounded like a real jerk.

  “Summer camp, however, was actually fun. The counsellors were all hot too.”

  “You were already a pig at such a tender age?”

  “Don’t tell me you’re surprised.”

  “Oh, I’m not.”

  She thought about steering the conversation back to his old boarding school, Greystone Academy, then thought better of it.

  Deftly, he changed the subject entirely away from his childhood, luring her into talking about her plans for Evil Pixie. What seemed like hours later she dozed off, unable to stay awake despite the imminent threat of moose.

  Chapter Eight

  “Do you even know how to run this thing?” Arabella asked in a tone that said she knew very well the answer was no. That was the hard part about having a best friend who was female. He still had the urge to impress her with his manliness, even though she knew him well enough to know when he was bullshitting.

  He eyed the deck boat—complete with a windshield, and enough seating for about twelve passengers—and knew he couldn’t lie. Swallowing his pride, he said, “I watched a YouTube video. I was too big of a coward to ask for the instruction manual.”

  “Typical guy, not stopping to ask for directions.” She laughed, but he knew it was with him rather than at him. “How are we so much alike? I would sit here all day trying to figure it out myself rather than ask for help. At least we don’t have any witnesses. If worse comes to worst I’ll use my Google-fu to get more information.”

  “Hopefully none of our guests for the first few months are super outdoorsy. I only know as much as a kid who goes to summer camp is supposed to know. I may be able to fake it in front of other city dwellers but a real outdoorsman will see right through me.”

  “We probably should have hired a guide for our first time out. We could have watched everything he did and taken notes,” she mused. “But then the problem would be that he or she would be from the area, so then we’d have to kill them and dispose of the body so they didn’t give away your ignorance to future guests.”

  “Obviously.” At least they’d gotten the tarp off of the damn thing. He had no idea it might be held down with snaps so it had taken longer than absolutely necessary. At least Arabella was being supportive instead of mocking him for being an idiot.

  The controls seemed intuitive enough, but time would tell. After he got the motor started, he looked back at Dex, who was doing a slow clap that he hadn’t heard over the roar.

  “When they said the property came with a passenger boat, I was thinking something more the size of an aluminum boat!” he shouted over the din. “I’m glad I looked up a few different possibilities. Apparently, I’m supposed to have a boating license. I’ll have to figure out how to get one of those so I don’t get my ass thrown in Canadian jail.”

  “You’d do just fine in jail!” Arabella shouted back supportively. “You’re pretty. Besides, it’s Canadian jail. You’d probably be rooming with someone who was in for not apologizing profusely enough for cutting someone off in traffic. You’d be the baddest ass in your cellblock.”

  He grinned at her. “You think?”

  “They’d all be horrified to discover you’ve given a restaurant a one-star Yelp rating.”

  He could almost believe it considering all of the polite, friendly people they’d met at service stations and restaurants on the drive up.

  “Okay, no more jokes. I have to figure this out so we can actually get there. I’d rather not sleep in the truck.” It was early morning, so hopefully they had plenty of time to find the right island before dark.

  “Sleeping in the truck doesn’t sound too bad to me,” Arabella said, casting the lake a doubtful look. The body of water was a lot bigger than he’d thought it would be and he could tell she wasn’t comfortable leaving land without being able to see the island in the distance. Everything was just . . . trees. How was he supposed to tell which trees were his? He had a GPS app on his phone, at least. He’d made sure it worked once they got to the Canadian side of the border and it had seemed fine.

  “I honestly thought that if we got lost there would be people around, but I haven’t seen anyone since we turned off the highway, and that was ages ago. No wonder you could afford so many acres of land. No one even knows this place is here! I don’t care if you own it . . .” She said something else, but it was too low for him to hear over the motor.

  The controls were more or less the way YouTube had told him they would be. Thank god. “Keep an eye on my phone app. It’ll tell you if I’m going in the wrong direction.”

  She nodded, taking the phone from him and holding it with white-knuckled fingers. She looked small and nervous in the bright red life jacket she’d zipped on, and guilt assailed him.

  Maybe he should have left her at home.

  He felt bad for bringing her into a situation she obviously wasn’t comfortable with—not that he was comfortable with it either. The protective instincts he felt for her had flared out of control ever since they’d slept together. It was hard to turn those feelings off. His urge to protect her would make more sense if he got like this with every submissive he played with or slept with a few times, but this ferocious need to shield Arabella were exclusive to her.

  He hadn’t felt this way about her back in the day, but then, he’d always sort of considered her a guy. But she was so small and soft under her boyish clothes, and the way she whimpered and begged for cock . . . and her vulnerability in subspace . . . He never would have expected any of it, but now that he knew her so intimately, he couldn’t erase those moments from his memory or from the way he felt.

  He didn’t want to, even if they were only destined to be friends.

  Realizing he was getting simultaneously hard and wistful, he cleared his throat and focused on not banging the side of the boat on the dock as he pulled away.

  This can’t be much more difficult than driving a truck, right?

  He steered away from shore without incident and aimed the prow of the fancy fishing boat toward what he assumed was their destination.

  The sun hovered just barely over the horizon as they started out. Gulls followed, wheeling overhead, diving into the w
ater then emerging triumphant with their quarry. The land here seemed so wild compared to the forests he’d been to in the States. Before they’d even parked they’d seen two deer and about ten rabbits. Such a different world.

  Grant wasn’t enough of an idiot to believe that owning property would be like going to summer camp as a kid. He had money to hire help, but he’d be damned if he’d hire someone to show him around his own property and tell him how to do things. He’d save that money for when he actually had guests coming.

  From the pictures he’d seen and what he’d been told it was a turnkey operation as a fishing lodge. Hopefully it wouldn’t take too much work to make the shift to a kink retreat.

  On the water, the air was even cooler than it had been on shore. It was strange how the weather wasn’t all that different than what they were getting back home. According to what he’d read, they got more snow here and it stayed longer, but he’d felt very superior when he’d assured Arabella she wouldn’t need a heavy coat and snow boots for this trip. Thankfully he hadn’t been talking out of his ass.

  As he approached the shore directly across from where they’d started, looking for another dock, Arabella shook her head and pointed back toward the left. It looked like the lake ended there, but she shook his phone at him emphatically and pointed at it. He shrugged and followed her directions. As he got closer he saw the lake narrowed then opened up again into a body of water far larger than the first one. They shot each other a look of amusement and kept going.

  Thankfully, Arabella had loosened her death grip on the life jacket she wore and was grinning now. Even if the island turned out to be shitty and run-down, this was the most fun he’d had in ages—maybe the most fun he’d ever had out of bed. He couldn’t imagine getting this much excitement and satisfaction from buying the mansion down the road from Will’s, no matter how much he loved his brother. They just didn’t want the same things in life.

  “Over there!” Arabella yelled, pointing up ahead about twenty minutes later, just as the fourth or fifth island came into view. The others had all been small and uninhabited from what he could see, but this one looked huge even from this distance.

  “Are you sure that’s it?” he hollered back, glad to be shielded from the spray by the windshield. He was getting damned cold. It was supposed to warm up later in the day, but he could still see his breath in the air once in a while.

  She nodded, pointing at the phone then back at the island. “That’s your new den of iniquity, Master Grant.”

  He smiled back at her and forced his gaze back to the island even though the way she’d looked at him made him wish he could drop anchor right there.

  As they reached the end of the long dock, he slowed the boat to a crawl. The dock was in good repair, and from where they were they could see the blue tin roof of the main lodge between the trees. His heart was drumming fast; he was excited, but also worried. What if the place was a dump? What if he hated it there? What if it wasn’t workable and he couldn’t sell it all of a sudden?

  He went through his mental files, trying to remember the island’s layout. There were several other docks around the perimeter of the more or less oblong island, as well as canoes, kayaks, and several small fishing boats.

  It was hard to believe that he owned a canoe, let alone plural canoes.

  He hopped out onto the dock, impressed that he’d only banged into it a little. He tied the boat off, then helped little pixie Arabella out. She was so short he was afraid she’d fall in without help. Arabella grinned up at him when both feet were safely on the dock, her sweet face pink from the wind and maybe from the excitement of their adventure. She threw an enthusiastic arm around him and gave him a hug.

  “What do you think?” he asked, looking around for the path that would lead them to the lodge. There was a gravel walkway that was just wide enough for something the size of a golf cart, but there were no golf carts in sight. He sort of hoped there weren’t any.

  A big, hand-painted sign at the end of the dock welcomed them to the Lucky Muskie Lodge, complete with a picture of a hooked fish jumping out of a prettily painted lake. The hook in the fish’s mouth made him wonder how exactly it was lucky for the muskie—maybe the fish had a thing for hook suspension?

  “I think I’ve seen more trees in the past twenty-four hours than I have in my entire life before this. It’s hard to believe you own acres of trees. Look at the size of them!” She looked around in wonder, her deep brown eyes shining.

  “Go figure, you’re not impressed about the island, the lodge, or the boat, but you’re impressed by the trees.” He shook his head in mock disappointment. “Hopefully the beach will meet with your approval.”

  “Unless it warms up a helluva lot later today, I have a hard time imagining myself putting on a bathing suit.”

  “We’re alone here and you brought a bathing suit?” He tsked and shook his head. “When did you turn into such a prude?”

  “I thought we were going to try to keep things platonic.”

  “I can look and not touch. I’m a big boy.”

  “Oh, I remember.” She winked at him and gave his crotch a meaningful look before turning away to study the path uphill. “At least it’s not super steep. A lot of waterfront property is very irritating when you’re my height. Stairs make me so tired.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him, and he smirked. She had to be one of the most energetic people he’d ever met.

  When he gestured for her to lead the way, she shook her head.

  “No, you should be the first one to see it.” She got behind him and gave him a push toward the path.

  He headed uphill, dragging her along by the hand. They could come back for their stuff later. There was time to explore for a while first.

  It was so right having Arabella by his side for this.

  They rounded a bend and the thick forest fell away to reveal the secret jewel it protected. The lodge—his fucking lodge!—graced the center of a large empty clearing. Rustic log construction, in pristine condition, with its blue tin roof . . .

  The building was huge.

  The pictures had made it seem quaint, but in person, the lodge was gargantuan and sprawling, and now he could see how eighteen guest bedrooms with private bathrooms could fit, plus the master bedroom, and attached staff quarters. It was like a mansion built by pioneers. Maybe it was a little kitschy with the log Adirondack chairs out front, but that was all part of the charm.

  “Fuck. You don’t do anything halfway, do you.”

  He started to laugh because he couldn’t think of anything to say. It was far more beautiful and impressive than the website had been able to convey. And it was his. Not Will’s. Not his father’s. Just his.

  “So are you going to take me inside or are we going to stand here and gawk at it all day?” she asked, grinning up at him. “Totally your call.”

  “You really know how to spoil a grand moment.”

  “I’m just impatient to see the inside.”

  He put the key in the lock and even though it turned smoothly, as he opened the door he half expected the place to be a dump inside. Instead, it opened into a pleasant foyer with a check-in desk.

  Impulsively, he grabbed Arabella and swung her over his shoulder, carrying her over the threshold like a sack of potatoes.

  She shrieked a laugh, then pounded on his back. “What are you doing?”

  “I had to carry someone over the threshold. It’s bad luck not to, isn’t it?”

  He set her down, grinning at her pink face. She was rolling her eyes at him, of course. “I think that’s supposed to be your wife.”

  “Oh well. You were a good stand-in. It was either you or a moose, and I haven’t seen one of those yet.”

  Just beyond the foyer, they followed a wide hall into a huge great room with a grand stone fireplace along one wall. The room was separated into a dining area with a lon
g, long wooden table and bench seats, and a sitting area filled with leather chairs and couches arranged in comfortable conversation areas. The large windows running along one wall looked out to an expanse of trees below, and the lake just beyond.

  Stunned, he turned back and looked at Arabella, who was turning in a slow circle as though she didn’t want to miss any details.

  “I have no idea how much you paid for the place, but it was worth it.” She laughed breathlessly and came to join him at the window. Fascinated, he watched her as she took in the view, her eyes wide and shining as though this place was as magical to her as it was to him. He couldn’t imagine enjoying this so much if she hadn’t been there to share his excitement.

  “This is so amazing! We’re in the middle of nowhere in your own fucking castle. It’s like something from a fairy tale. I feel like I should grow my hair out and take up residence in a tower somewhere on the island.”

  “Trying to keep twelve-foot-long hair dyed blue and purple seems like it might be a bit of an undertaking.”

  “Really, though, this place deserves the effort.”

  She turned her face up to his again, and he realized suddenly how close they were. Her brown doe eyes softened, and her lips parted slightly, as though she was expecting a kiss. Unable to help himself, he brushed his lips featherlight across hers.

  His pent-up desire for her surged out of its cage and he desperately tried to stuff it back in. He drew back a hair’s breadth, her short, shallow breaths fanning over his chin. Tension trembled through him, tightening his muscles and his balls. He itched to throw her down on the dining table, where he’d strip off her jeans and panties and have her for breakfast.

  “When I said you could have me anytime, I meant it. Just as friends though.” Her bow mouth curled into a feline smile that promised him he could do anything and everything to her.

  She wasn’t some innocent little noob he had to be careful with, and that was a dangerous thing. The woman was unshockable and notorious for never safewording. She still hadn’t met the master who could best her, and lord knew many of the most experienced masters in their circle had tried.