Something tells me she’s in with Mason and I follow, keeping my distance so she has no idea I’m here. I hide behind a tree as a long black car stops in front of the sidewalk and she gets into it.
It’s the same kind of car Bart Mason got into the first night he came to my club. She has to work for him. I was set up by the fucking bastard.
Somehow, Bart Mason knows Bell and I are a thing. I mean, I know he saw us in the car together, and he knows I’m protective of her, but he knows more than that. He knows she’s mine and he doesn’t care. He wants her to be his.
Well, he’s in for the fight of his life. I hope he’s ready.
Turning to go back inside, I head straight to my office to get the fucker’s address. All of our members have to give us an address that’s validated by our security team.
It’s one of the formalities we came up with after one man attacked another man’s sub in a private room where she was sent to wait for her Dom. It took the authorities a while to track him down as the address he’d given us was fake. So now we have every single address verified. And Mr. Mason is about to get a visit from a very mad man.
Chapter 24
Isabel
Riding in Bart Mason’s Maserati, I can’t stop shaking.
How could Grant do this to me?
I’m just lucky Bart showed up when he did and I was able to get away from Grant before he was able to sweet talk me. That man messes with my head every single time, using his words and his touch to make me insane for him all over again.
“So, you and he have a relationship?”
I turn my head to look at Bart, not sure what to say to him about that. It’s a secret. But he has to be wondering why I asked him to get me the fuck out of that place. And he has to be wondering why the hell Grant was chasing after me.
“Not really.” That’s all I can think of to say. And maybe we don’t really have one. Maybe Grant wants me to stay on side so he can still do whatever it is he’s been doing.
All I know is I can’t trust the man.
“Good. I don’t suppose you’ve been told about what I’ve done. I mean, you’ve yet to say a word about it.” His hand leaves the steering wheel as he runs it over my arm, leaving it to rest on my shoulder.
I look at his hand on me and notice the coldness of it. It sends a chill all the way to my bones. “Oh, it’s just because I’m not available. I don’t know why Betty would let you make up a contract and put money into an escrow account for me, but I’ll fix that tomorrow when I go back into work. I’m no man’s sub.”
Except one and I may not be that to him anymore either.
No, scratch that. I won’t be that to him anymore.
It took seeing it with my own eyes to be done, but now that I’ve seen it, I am totally done with Grant Jamison.
“Well, perhaps you would like to join me this evening. Not in any way other than a couple of people getting to know one another. My cook makes a mean steak. What do you say, Bella?” His hand runs over my shoulder and then up to my cheek.
His hands are so damn cold, it’s impossible to believe his teeth aren’t chattering. But he’s called me a name that’s not mine. “My name is Isabel, not Bella. Please don’t call me that.” It’s just too close to Bell, and that’s what Grant and only Grant calls me, and I don’t want to think about him right now.
“So no Bella.” His cold finger strokes my neck. “How about baby, sugar, sweetheart?”
“How about Isabel?” I gently move his hand off me. “And I’m not into being touched by strangers. I’m not like the women who go to the club. I stay holed up in my office. I’m not a typical sub. And I’m not into having sex with many different men either.”
“Is that so?” He smiles as he puts his hand on the wheel again. “So, a steak at my place?”
If I go home, Grant will come find me. I can’t go to Grant’s house either. I have no choice if I want to stay out of Grant’s reach, at least until tomorrow. Right now, I know I’ll listen to his lies if I give him the chance, and I’ll go right back into his strong arms like a fool.
“K. Steak sounds good.” I’m not the least bit hungry. As a matter of fact, my stomach is churning and I feel like I might be sick. But I can’t let Grant find me. And he’ll never find me at Bart’s place.
“Some nice red wine and a good meal by a roaring fire, that sounds nice, doesn’t it, my pet?” His eyes roam over me as he stops at a light.
His pet?
“Bart, why have you set your sights on me?”
“I don’t know. I just have. You’re remarkable. That den of inequity that you work in hasn’t damaged you one bit. You’ve stayed true to who you really are. It’s a thing I admire.” He flashes me a smile that creeps me out a bit as I notice for the first time that he has filed his canine teeth into sharp points.
I gasp quietly then blink and find his teeth aren’t sharp after all. God, what’s happening to me? I’m seeing things now?
“You should know that wasn’t my doing. When we first opened, I was out on the floor. I was told to stay in my office after that night. The owners want me to be considered off limits.” I fidget in my seat as I start to feel the weight of his stare.
“The owners, or just one of them?” He takes off from the light so fast my head is pushed back against the headrest.
I’m not freaked out by it. Grant drives like this all the time. I am freaked out that Bart seems to know Grant and I have a thing going on, despite my denials. “No, all of them wanted that. Demanded it. If not for them, who knows what kinds of things I would’ve ended up doing.” So what if it’s a lie, he doesn’t need to know the truth.
The speed he’s going seems unreal as we pass cars and all I can see is a string of lights as we go down the highway. Faster and faster we go, and my body feels the inertia that’s holding me to the seat. I try to say something. Try to tell him to slow way the fuck down, but my mouth is closed so tightly I can’t say a single word.
And then we come to a stop. I realize I haven’t been breathing and gasp for air.
His grin is oddly sinister as he looks at me. “We’re home.”
My door is opened by someone, and I turn to find that a tall, gorgeous woman has opened the door for me. “Welcome to Castle Mason, Miss Sanchez.”
I look the woman up and down, trying to figure out how she knows my name. She’s wearing a tiny maid’s uniform. Typical short black dress, white apron, and high-heeled black pumps. Her blonde hair is high on her head and gathered behind a little maid’s hat. “And just how do you know my name, may I ask?” I take her extended hand and allow her to help me out of the low car.
“The master has told us to be expecting you. Please come with me. I’ll ready you for dinner with the master.” She takes me by the arm, gently but firmly making me go with her.
I look over my shoulder as I go with her and don’t see Bart anywhere.
For a man who’s new to the BDSM underworld, he certainly lives the life of a die-hard fan of the lifestyle.
The castle is just that. I can’t believe I’ve never heard of this place. It’s crazy huge, I can see that even in the dark of night. Dark stone walls go up as high as I can see from the ground. The double doors open seemingly without anyone assistance, as if the place is inviting me inside all on its own.
The maid takes me through the castle until I’m hopelessly confused—I would definitely get lost if I had to find my way out again. She pushes open an ornately carved wooden door that looks ancient and turns to me. “Your clothing has been laid out on your bed. Get dressed in it, and someone will be here soon to get you. There’s everything you need inside the room. Make yourself at home, Miss Sanchez. It’s a pleasure to serve you.” With a low bow, she gives me a slight push, and I’m forced into the room.
Closing the door behind me, I hear a click, and my nerves suddenly go crazy as I try the door and find it is locked. Running to the window, I see I’m high up in the castle even though we didn’t take a single set o
f stairs.
Turning around, I find sconces on the wall bathe the room in a dim light that does little but make the place seem even more frightening. I find there are clothes laid out on the bed.
The dress is long, it’ll go to my ankles. Although long in nature, it’s also sheer and see-through. A set of white panties and a matching bra are all that’s left for me to wear underneath it.
Shaking, I get out of my jeans and t-shirt to get into the clothes. Something tells me I should go along with everything. Maybe if I don’t resist, Bart will see fit not to make me do anything I don’t want to.
Maybe.
Just as I pull the dress over my head, the door opens. Another tall, gorgeous woman is standing there. She’s not a maid at all as she’s wearing a snug fitting gold dress that goes to the floor. I can’t see her feet, but figure she must be wearing really high heels as she’s incredibly tall.
One word is all I get, “Come.”
“Um, there weren’t any shoes for me to put on.” I look around to see if I missed them.
“Come, now.” Her long finger moves slowly, bidding me to come with her.
“Okay, I’ll go barefoot I guess.” Padding across the cold floor, I can feel it sinking into my bones.
“Follow me,” she tells me as she turns to walk away.
Of course, I do as she says. I’m lost in this place anyway. It would do me no good to try to run away. Plus I have no real idea where I am.
I know I should be afraid. I know this, and yet I’m calm. It’s the type of calm that should feel eerie, but I can’t conjure up even that feeling. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think Bart had managed to slip me something, but he didn’t give me a thing to eat or drink. I have no idea how I’m so calm all of a sudden.
Another maze takes me to a room where I see a raging fire in a huge stone fireplace. A long table is in the middle of the room, which is lit only by the light of the fire. The heavy wood furnishings are bathed in an orange hue. And suddenly I find I’m all alone in the large dining room.
Moving to the table, I find two glasses have been filled with red wine. Dark red place settings are set up. One at the end of the table and one just to the right of that one.
I bet Bart wants to sit at the head, so I take the other seat. The wine draws my attention. It’s so dark it’s nearly black. Looking around, I wonder if Bart would be mad if I took a tiny sip before he gets here.
When I see no one and hear no one coming, I pick up the glass and put it to my lips. Just one little sip, no more than that.
The lukewarm liquid touches my lips and moves through them, then over my tongue. A salty sweet flavor entices me to take more than a sip. It’s like ambrosia to me. A thing I never knew I wanted but now feel a deep hunger growing inside of me. Without meaning to, I drink the whole glass and put the empty glass down, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as I stare at the glass, wishing it was full again.
“There’s my pet.”
“I’m here.” Turning to look at Bart, I watch him moving into the room as if he’s gliding a few inches off the floor instead of walking on it. A long black cloak flows out behind him as he moves toward me.
His eyes go to the empty wine glass then to mine as he sits in the chair at the head of the table. “Did you like it?”
I shake my head as I look into his. A fire is behind those dark-as-night eyes. I’m not sure if it’s a reflection from the giant fire burning in the nearby fireplace or if it’s real, but it’s kind of beautiful. “I love it. What is it and where can I get a lifetime supply of the stuff?”
His long fingers drum on the table, taking my attention as they make sharp sounds. I find his nails are long, filed into sharp points, and painted black.
So emo. Funny I didn’t notice them before.
“Only I can get that particular drink for you, my pet. But I’ll get you all you want. Don’t worry.” Placing his hand over the top of my empty glass, my jaw drops as I watch it refill.
At first, I’m amazed, then I get it. “Magic?”
“Something like that.” When he moves his hand off my glass, I find my mouth watering in anticipation of swallowing more of the mystical liquid into my mouth. But I hold off, waiting for him to drink too.
I watch his large hand wrap around his wineglass, pulling it his lips, but he takes only a sip. The thick red liquid sticks to his lips, and he runs his long tongue over them to lick it all away.
I find I’m biting my lip, craving to lick that wine off his lips. Starving for the wine that must be coating his tongue.
I want it. I want it. I want it.
My eyes are glued to his lips as someone comes in, taking my attention away. “Ah, dinner,” Bart says, as another tall, gorgeous woman comes in with a tray. Two silver domes are on it, and she places the covered plates in front of him first and then me.
Without a word, she leaves, and I smile at Bart. “Is that all you employ? Gorgeous women, who are above average height?”
“Employ?” he pulls the dome off and puts it to the side of his plate. “I don’t pay them. They take care of me because they want to.”
Perplexed, I ask, “If you have this many women waiting on you hand and foot, why did you feel the need to join the Dungeon of Decorum?”
Picking up a sharp knife with a carved bone handle he nods at my still closed dome. “Are you going to see if the steak is cooked to your liking?”
I can see he’s avoiding my question, so I take the silver dome off. The steak is very rare, blood pools around it and a scoop of frosty white mashed potatoes look creepy as it is engulfed by the pool of blood. “Cooked? I don’t know if you can call this cooked.”
He cuts a piece of his steak and holds it out to me. “Try it.”
One drop of blood drips off it, landing on my plate. I don’t really want to put that into my mouth, but he leans forward and looks into my eyes as he touches my lips with the warm meat.
My mouth opens, and he places the meat on my tongue. Immediately it melts in my mouth, and I moan with how wonderful it tastes. “Oh, you’re right, Bart.”
Picking up my own fork and knife, I dig into my steak and devour it as if I haven’t eaten in a week. Even the potatoes taste like nothing I’ve ever had, and I make sure to coat them in the juices before I put them in my mouth. Before I know it, my plate is empty, and I eye the full glass of wine. Looking at Bart, I wait for him to finish his meal before I pick up the glass and down it the same way I did the first one.
His eyes twinkle as he watches me. “You have an appetite much like mine.” He downs his glass too then stands up, offering me his arm. “Come, let’s take a stroll.”
As I get up, I can’t help but notice how he looks at my nearly naked body. He sucks in his breath as I take his arm. “Is this your permanent home, Bart?”
“It is. It’s my very permanent home, my pet.” He walks with me, his feet touching the floor, unlike before.
“Are you a magician?” I have to ask as many things about him and this place seem unreal, and that’s the only logical reason I can think of.
“No, I’m not a magician.” He stops and turns me around. I find we’re on a balcony with the wind whipping around us.
“How?” I look around and see the night sky but there’s no moon, and I’m sure there was a full one earlier. “Bart, where are we?”
“You’re home, Isabel. Finally, you are home where you’ve always belonged.” He smiles, and I see those sharp canines again, and this time a chill runs through me. A deep, dark chill that goes straight to my soul.
“Bart, I belong to Grant. I do. You have to take me back.” I try to take a step back and find there’s nothing behind me. I begin to fall. The dark stones of the castle flash as I fall past them.
I scream as I know this can’t end well and terror fills me. Then I stop only a few inches from the ground and feel my body floating up. Looking up, I see Bart is standing there on the balcony, watching me as I’m brought back to him.
&n
bsp; He reaches out and takes my hands, pulling me back to the narrow ledge. “Who is it you belong to, pet?”
The words are lodged in my throat as I struggle to say I belong to Grant. Nothing can come out, and I claw at my throat as it feels as if I’m being choked. Until I think the thought I know Bart wants to hear.
Suddenly the pressure is gone, and I cough then whisper the words he wants—demands—to hear. “You, Master. I belong to you.”
His long fingers flow up my arms as he smiles. “Yes, you do, Isabel. You are mine. Only mine. And this is your home now. Your only home.”
He has to be playing with me. He just has to. “Can I leave this home to go to work?”
With a slow shake of his head, I know I’m fucked. Grant was right. This guy is evil as shit, and I’ve made a terrible mistake.
Chapter 25
Grant
Pulling up at 1515 Sparrow Lane, I find the long black car I know belongs to Bart sitting in the driveway of a modest home. Not what one would expect a man who’s worth billions to live in. It’s two in the morning, and the house is dark.
Getting out of my car, I head to the front door. My progress is halted as I hear something running from around the side of the house. I look over and find it’s a German Shepherd whose sights are set on me.
“It’s okay, boy.” I put my hands out slowly to show him I mean him no harm. But he keeps on coming at me full speed, and I know it’s time to run.
Turning around, I haul ass to my car and get inside just in the nick of time, avoiding the sharp teeth of the large animal. It’s odd that he never unleashes so much as one bark, but his eyes are glued on me.
Looking over to the passenger seat where Bell left her purse and cell phone when we went into the club, I wish like hell I could just call her and make sure she’s okay.
I know she’s mad at me for what she saw. Who wouldn’t have been?
But to go with that man of all people… I do not understand that.
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