He sighed, sounding resigned since she wasn’t dropping the subject. “No, not like Hogwarts. Not like summer camp either. At least I had Will at summer camp.”
“Will wasn’t in the same part of Greystone?”
“He wasn’t there at all. Only pain in the ass Grant got sent away. Will was our father’s favorite back then—he never would have put up with Kim shipping Will off for the entire school year. For a few years I only saw Will on holidays, and that was if I was allowed to come home. I always got to leave school in the summer though. Then there was summer camp so I wasn’t underfoot.” He paused for a moment as though he was on the verge of saying something important. Instead, he got quiet again.
Dex’s stomach rolled. Part of her wanted to drop the subject, but she didn’t want him to think she couldn’t handle hearing whatever was going on behind all of his silence. It sounded like he’d spent his entire childhood everywhere except home. He’d been raised by strangers—like the rich kid version of foster care.
“It was . . . bad?” She glanced back, needing to see his face.
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Not bad enough for them to stop sending me. I went for a few years until I managed to get expelled.”
“What happened?”
He shrugged. “I got tired of being slapped around. One day a teacher threw me into a blackboard and punched me in the stomach for losing a textbook. That was the beginning of the end.”
“Oh my god!” Dex’s hand flew to her throat and pressed where she was pretty sure her heart now was. “They were abusing you?”
“All of us.”
“How did the place even stay open? There couldn’t have been that many families willing to send their kids to an abusive school.”
“I guess you’d be surprised.”
She heard him rest his paddle in front of him, across the canoe, and a few stray droplets soaked into her shirt. Not sure what else to do, she rested her paddle across her lap, feeling even weirder about not being able to turn to look at him since she had nothing to do except sightsee.
“They couched it in the language of ‘firm discipline’ and sold our parents on the idea that the modern way of raising kids made sons too soft or unruly. So rich families with sons who acted up sent them to this place in the hopes that they’d learn some manners. It worked for almost all of the other kids. Not many of us got thrown out. But after I’d had my first taste of fighting back they couldn’t get me to stop. No matter what they did.”
Fuck. What a childhood. “How old were you?”
“They finally gave up and sent me home for good when I was twelve. Apparently using my casted arm as a weapon was frowned upon.”
“Oh my god. Didn’t you tell your father what was happening?”
“He sent me there to have some manners beaten into me. I guess when he found out that the beatings were literal and sometimes serious, he thought the price wasn’t too high.”
“Did he honestly think he was doing the right thing, or was he just . . . storing you there?”
Grant snorted. “He didn’t want me any more than my mother or stepmother did. When I came home with the broken arm, and covered in bruises and belt marks, he told me it wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t such a fucking prick.” He laughed, but the sound was cold and hard. “Like I said, Will was the only one who gave two shits about me.”
“Your father blamed you for what they did to you? But you were just a little boy!” She swiped at the tears dripping down her face, not even sure when they’d started. She tried to turn in the canoe, but it rocked alarmingly and she settled back into her seat. If she’d had any idea what he was going to tell her, she never would have asked when they were canoeing across the lake and she couldn’t hug him. “Will didn’t blame you, though, right?”
“I never told him. I don’t think he knows. That last time I got sent home, Will was in Italy with a friend’s family. He was gone long enough that the cast was off by the time he got home. He knows I was expelled but he probably just figures it was because I was disrespectful.”
“You should tell him.” She trailed her fingers in the water, watching the ripples skim out from where she disturbed the glassy surface. A bug landed near her hand, sliding along for a moment before a minnow darted up to snatch it.
He chuckled. “Why bother telling him now? It’s ancient history. Worse things happened to us when we were on the streets and at the shelters. I was just older by then.”
“And you didn’t expect much from the world anymore at that point?”
“Let’s just say you learn to either fight or keep your mouth shut. Looking for sympathy doesn’t get you anywhere.”
They paddled silently for a while, eventually reaching land. Grant angled the canoe to follow the shoreline, but not close enough to get caught up in the gentle swells where water met sand. There was utter silence other than the lap of water on the shore, the rustle of trees, and the drip of their paddles when they pulled them from the water.
Something rustled in the underbrush. A fox appeared maybe fifty feet away, its fur bright and yet somehow blending into the forest around it. The creature’s russet shade matched Grant’s hair exactly, and if the little beast had turned bright green eyes her way she wouldn’t have been surprised. She pointed, glancing back to make sure she’d gotten Grant’s attention, and he watched the animal with fascination.
Even after the fox had wandered back into the trees, they were silent a long while. Dex wasn’t quite sure what to say. She’d never been any good at expressing empathy even though she felt the emotion like a knife in her chest. Grant had been alone in the world, ignored, no one caring what happened to him other than the older brother who never would have been able to help him out anyway. What did that do to a person?
She and Mia had been alone a lot growing up with their moms working long hours, but they’d always had each other, and their mothers had loved them. They hadn’t been the kind of almost-siblings who argued, and their interests were so similar that their mothers used to joke that they were two halves of the same weird little person. When they were small they’d finished each other’s sentences and had their own language. Losing Mia had been the biggest blow in her life, other than her mother dying. She couldn’t imagine having gone through childhood feeling like nobody loved her. That was the implication of what Grant had told her. Will had loved him in the offhanded older brother way that a lot of boys seemed to have, but it wasn’t the same as feeling like he was important to anyone in particular.
Unlike Grant, no one had wished she’d just shut up and disappear.
Losing Will to Juliet had to have been a huge blow to Grant. Like Dex, he had no one left. No wonder he’d sought her out for this trip.
It was hard to believe that after so many years of being close they’d still had secrets from each other, but then, maybe everyone hid things, even from the people closest to them. No one in her new life even knew about Mia and Nigel except Grant—not Will, not Andromeda. Andromeda only knew about Nigel cheating on her. She’d been too ashamed to tell her it was with someone she’d considered a sister. Losing Mia and Nigel so soon after losing her mother had been devastating—it had tilted her world on its axis, leaving her with no one to turn to except a few casual friends.
She had good reason not to have dated again before now, but what was Grant’s excuse? Why would a guy who felt so alone in the world not try to find a deeper connection with someone? From what she’d gathered, he’d never dated long-term, unless he had more secrets she was unaware of.
Grant went back to joking with her, teasing her about her abysmal paddling skills, and some of the melancholy lifted. Besides, it felt good to have everything out in the open between them, scraping the last of the hard feelings out and letting in the fresh air.
They paddled a loop around the island, checking for neighbors for several miles in each direction. Th
ere were no signs of human life anywhere, not even in the distance on the water, not even the hum of faraway engines. It was unbelievably freeing, but also somewhat nerve-wracking. If something happened to Grant while they were on the island, she didn’t even know how to start the boat’s motor, let alone drive it. And if he was unconscious or had broken a leg? There was no one to call for help. She wasn’t even sure Will knew Grant had bought the island, let alone where it was.
“You’d better hope nothing happens to me, or you’re going to be stuck here until someone can trace your phone,” Grant said, his thoughts obviously having taken the same turn hers had.
“You don’t think my directions would be very accurate? Turn left off the highway, pass a million and forty-two rocks, then . . . oh, did I mention to bring a boat?”
“See? I could hold you captive here and you’d be totally screwed.”
“Hot, but only because it’s you.”
He laughed evilly, and she smiled to herself. It would be a fun game, but she had to go back to work sometime. As it was, she had to call Andromeda as soon as they got back to the island. Master An had left a message that morning asking for direction on a few details, and Dex had sort of forgotten to call her back.
If Grant suddenly turned evil, though, he could imprison her here and none would be the wiser. He could keep her as a sex slave for the next twenty years.
Mmm.
Okay, so as a sexual fantasy, the idea was kind of hot.
She wouldn’t have to go to work anymore, and she could forget all about expanding operations. Sweet.
Somehow, spending her life in Grant’s bed—or servicing him wherever he felt like being serviced—didn’t seem like such a terrible fate.
She glanced back at him, admiring his broad shoulders and the cut muscles in his arms as he paddled.
Not such a terrible fate at all.
Chapter Fifteen
“Oh god, what was I thinking?”
Arabella’s whimper of pain made Grant feel like a complete asshat.
“This is what I get for hanging out with an athletic guy. I know better than this.”
He lowered her into the tub in the master bath. The tub was huge, and meant for more than one person, so the water reached her chin. Her arms drifted to the top of the water and floated there, as though she had no control over them. She was wincing at him, as though he were to blame for all of her woes. Maybe he was.
“This evening, the role of my arms will be played by noodles,” she said as though introducing the actors in a play.
“Cooked noodles?”
“Yes, cooked noodles!” she laughed, then groaned. “At least I could do something with uncooked ones. I know I’m into pain, but strictly of the sexual variety, capiche? This sort of torture is a hard limit. And my ass . . . did I mention my ass? It still hurts from this morning! I have bruises and even some little scabs, you jerk!”
“I hate to break it to you, but you did this to yourself, naughty girl.”
“Bull. Shit. Like I would have chosen to do the canoe version of the Tour de France on my first day out? That was all you, jerkoff.” Her dark eyes shone with amusement and challenge.
“I should have taken better care of you,” he admitted, rubbing aloe vera on her sunburned nose and cheeks. “But you should watch your mouth with me, little pixie. You may be sore, but I can make it much worse.”
“So mean,” she muttered under her breath, looking petulant and adorable.
“You love me mean.”
“I lo–” Her mouth snapped closed, and he wondered what exactly she’d stopped herself from saying. Abruptly, she slid under the water. Luckily for him, there was really no way for her to escape the confines of the bathtub without him noticing.
She came back up, hair slicked back, looking for all the world like the kind of creature that could lure a man to his death and have him happily go along with the scheme. Hopefully the tub would be too shallow for his little siren to use for nefarious purposes.
“This was all part of your plan, wasn’t it? In this condition, you won’t even have to tie me up to have your way with me. I’m at your mercy.”
He grabbed her chin and forced his thumb into her mouth, hooking it behind her teeth. The look of shock on her face shifted from plaintive to spontaneous, nervous arousal. The simple sight of her naked had already made him hard, but her distress made his balls tighten and ache.
“The secret is, you’re always at my mercy, whether your arms are cooperating with you or not.” He gentled his hold and slid his thumb over her tongue. She curled her tongue around it, then closed her lips on him and suckled. His cock twitched in jealous outrage.
Being with Arabella meant never knowing which of them was in charge from moment to moment, and he fucking loved it.
“You’re five foot one and about one hundred pounds if you put some rocks in your pockets,” he reminded her. “I’m well over a foot taller, and twice your weight.”
She sucked her way off his thumb, gazing up at him with wide, innocent eyes. How she managed to make him want to corrupt her even though she was already thoroughly corrupted was a mystery to him. It was like her superpower.
Brats were the very best toys. They were always coming up with new and wonderful ways to keep their owners interested and drive them squirrelly.
“You’d better watch out,” she said lightly. “I’ve been concentrating really hard on getting taller, and when I’m bigger than you are I’m going to make you my bitch.”
“Is that so? I’d like to see you try.”
She lunged up out of the water and wrapped an arm around his neck, then tried to pull him down into the tub headfirst. Instead, he braced his hands on the edge of the tub and she sort of dangled from his neck like a pretty, naked necklace.
“Damn it.” She let go and fell back into the tub with a small splash. “You knew I was going to do that, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” he lied. The real possibility of her trying to drag him in should have crossed his mind when he’d been thinking of her as a siren.
“I guess I’d have to get up pretty early in the morning if I wanted to get the jump on you.”
“If you ever get the jump on me, there’ll be hell to pay.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it.” She grinned, and flicked water at his face, some of the drops hitting the mark, but most missing him. His T-shirt was soaked around the collar from her attempt to get him in anyway, so he pulled it off and threw it on the side of the tub where it would be out of the way.
“Look at that. My devious plan was successful. The next step is to get you out of your pants.”
“I’m pretty sure that for a plan to be devious you’re not supposed to tell me about it beforehand.”
She frowned thoughtfully. “You may be right.”
“Why did you want my shirt off?”
“That’s the dumbest question you’ve ever asked me, Mr. Ellis. Who wouldn’t want you to take your shirt off? The question is why haven’t they made it illegal for you to wear shirts in Canada.”
“They can’t make wearing shirts illegal in Canada. People would die of hypothermia nine months of the year.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m pretty sure you’re joking, but if you’re not you’ve picked a really bad place to open what’s practically going to be a nudist resort, at least for the submissives.”
“Obviously, the resort will probably be seasonal.”
She frowned and tugged on one of his fingers. “You should get in here with me. There’s plenty of room.”
“It was supposed to be relaxing for you, and I can guarantee that if I get in there you’re not going to be relaxed for very long.”
She grumbled something that involved profanity, but he ignored that and took her hand, using his thumbs to massage her palm. The sound that came out of her wasn’t very
ladylike. Her eyes rolled in pleasure, then popped wide.
“Hey! I just realized—you’re going to have to be here all summer, every summer. I don’t think I like that idea.”
“You could come visit me anytime you like.” He worked his massage upward, working on the muscles in her forearms.
“I have to work in the summer. I can’t just take summers off, I have a business to run.” Her lips twisted unhappily. “So for the best months of the year we’re going to be in a long-distance relationship. I’m going to be busy with microbrewery competitions and beer gardens, and you’ll be up here ogling pretty young submissives traipsing naked around your island.”
She actually sounded jealous. It wasn’t the reaction he would have expected from her, especially considering there was no one for her to be jealous about, currently.
“How is this any different than me working at Catacombs? The club is always full of half-naked women—you usually approve of that fact, and often are one yourself.”
“It’s different because we won’t see each other for weeks, maybe months at a time! You’re going to walk around all wound up from the kink going on around you, and there’ll be women chasing you, and I won’t be close by to work out your frustration on.” Her eyes had grown very serious and a little sad. “We probably should keep our relationship open so you have options.”
“I don’t want options. I’ve had nothing but options all my life. Why would I push for an exclusive relationship with you if that wasn’t what I wanted?”
She leaned in and brushed her lips over his, but pulled away before he could deepen the kiss.
“I think you’re not thinking things through.”
“I think what happened with Nigel is making you doubt me.”
She shrugged. “Maybe,” she admitted, “but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
“I would never betray you.”
“You wouldn’t mean to. Sometimes things just happen.” She cleared her throat and looked away. “I guess if you wanted an open relationship later we could always renegotiate when it comes up.”
All's Fair in Love and Mastery Page 19