“Robert.” She nodded at her brother. “And you must be Mr. Bustamante. I met your wife last night. She’s a charming lady. I’m Martie Skylark.”
Jovina could see splotches of color on her father’s cheeks—a sure sign that he was angry. He didn’t respond to Martie’s offer of a handshake. The Domme finally dropped her hand.
“Father,” Jovina said. “Say something.”
He stood there staring at first her, then Martie. Finally he looked back at her and said, “You’re dead to me.” He turned to Robert. “I’ll meet you in the car.”
He left without a backward glance. Jovina felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. She had known he wasn’t going to welcome her declaration with a smile and the words It’s about time you knew what you wanted. But she hadn’t expected to be declared dead. He couldn’t have knocked her down any harder, not even if he’d struck her. Those words were the harshest she’d ever heard come out of his mouth.
“Father!” Jovina wanted to run after him, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good. Once Oscar Bustamante made a decision, he stood by it. It was one lesson she’d learned as a child. Her father didn’t look back. He walked out the door, his head held high.
“Father!” Once again, tears stung her eyes. When Martie put her hand on Jovina’s shoulder, she felt a wave of support, confirmation that, despite her father’s reaction, Jovina had done the right thing.
Robert sneered at her. “You have twenty-four hours to get out of my house.”
“You can’t do that,” Martie said, her voice controlled. “You have to follow the law of the state and give notice—”
“There is no lease,” Robert said to her, his gaze focused on Jovina. “I own this house, and my sister lives in it by my grace. All she pays is utilities and upkeep. I’m withdrawing my approval of her being here. Get out, and don’t take anything that’s not yours.”
He headed toward the door, stopped, and turned back to Jovina. “And don’t be calling Mother. She’s at home, crying her eyes out because you’re such a disgrace.”
Robert slammed the door as he left. Jovina could hear the muffled sound of his car starting up and pulling out of the driveway.
The threatened tears filled her eyes. She’d expected anger, but she hadn’t expected it to happen this way. She’d wanted it on her terms.
Jovina opened her mouth to say something, but her voice didn’t seem to be working. The tears spilled down her cheeks. She stood there, staring at the door her brother had just slammed.
“Jovina?” Martie grasped her shoulder, the touch tender.
“I wanted…I thought…” Jovina melted into Martie’s arms as the Domme drew her close. She sagged against Martie’s shoulder, her crying turning into loud sobs of pain.
Martie stroked her hair and whispered, “It’s going to be okay,” a few times. Jovina wanted to believe her, but all she could think about were her father’s anger and her brother’s sneer.
Jovina wasn’t sure how long she cried, how long Martie held her and stroked her hair. Suddenly she knew Martie was right. Everything was going to be fine. Certainly not now, and maybe not tomorrow, but in the long run, her decision had been the right one.
She cleared her throat and gently pushed away from Martie. The Domme leaned in and kissed her. Jovina felt the connection that made her feel whole, and she kissed Martie back, taking the Domme’s tongue into her mouth and sighing softly when the kiss finally broke.
“Well, I guess I’d better pack. I don’t have a whole lot of things. The furniture belongs to Robert. My life belongs to Robert and my father.” She looked around the room, for the first time realizing she was almost thirty, and she’d allowed others to determine how to live her life.
“Not anymore,” Martie told her. She stepped in front of Jovina and put her arms around her, holding her close. “Your life belongs to you now. It’s yours to live as you please.”
Jovina heard M’s words, but in her mind all she could hear was her father saying, “You’re dead to me.” By the afternoon all her brothers and sisters would know, as would all the people at the restaurant and half the town. This was a small town. People would start gossiping about her family, speculating about all of them, spreading rumors that would hurt everyone.
Her heart told her she’d done the right thing. But her mind told her she’d just slapped everyone she knew in the face by lying to them. If she could have done it all over again, she’d go back in time and tell them the truth.
She was finding out it was the only way to do things. It was the only way this whole situation could have been avoided.
* * * *
It took a week for Jovina to realize the whole thing hadn’t been a dream. She and Martie had packed up her things. To her surprise, it took even fewer boxes than she thought it would.
There were her art supplies, her clothes, some books, and knickknacks. She had photo albums and yearbooks from high school and college. The last things they packed were her paintings. They’d put them into the car carefully, but Jovina had known they all wouldn’t fit. She couldn’t leave them there, because she knew Robert would burn anything she left behind.
There had been only one person she knew would help her with no questions: Avery. Jovina had called her friend, and Avery and Master Earnest had come back to Buckshot that evening with a truck. They’d been able to get everything packed, and they’d all gone back to Santa Fe.
The next few days had been a whirlwind of activity. Martie had given her a room to set up as a studio. They’d bought Jovina a desk to put in there, and she’d set up her supplies, but she’d yet to take up a brush or pencil.
As the week had gone by, she and Martie had settled into a routine. Jovina spent the day at the house, cooking and cleaning while Martie went to work. When Martie arrived home, they would have a drink, relax, and then eat dinner. Sometimes they’d watch TV; sometimes they’d make love. But there hadn’t been any real BDSM involved yet.
This morning, when she’d been feasting on Martie’s pussy, savoring the taste of her Mistress, she’d craved the feel of a crop against her ass, desired to hear her Mistress call her a slut, tell her how she was made for only one purpose, to serve Martie.
After Martie had left, Jovina had planned a special supper for just the two of them, during which Jovina would get down on her knees and tell her Mistress she wanted a collar, wanted the reminder that she belonged to Martie.
She’d just made out a menu centering on Mexican food, since it was Martie’s favorite, when her phone rang. She checked the ID and almost choked. The restaurant’s number was on the screen.
There was no telling who was on the other end. It could be someone calling to say they missed her, or someone calling to say she’d ruined their lives. There was no way she would know, though, if she didn’t answer it.
Jovina’s fingers hovered over the Answer button, and she almost didn’t press it. But at the last second, she did. “Hello?”
“Hey, you little lesbo.” Her baby sister Carmen’s voice boomed out. “How the hell are ya? What’s for supper tonight? I’m coming over.”
Jovina was so surprised, she said, “Um, I’m not sure what I’m cooking.”
“Whatever it is, I’m sure it will be good. Tell me how to get there.”
Once she’d given the directions, Jovina wondered if she should have called Martie first, to check things out.
But her sister’s next words struck everything from her mind. “Jovina, I love you, no matter what. I’ll see you tonight.”
* * * *
“I should have asked you first.” Jovina picked up a bottle of perfume on the dresser, then put it back down. “My little sister can be, well, larger than life. She’s always been the one who stood her ground against our father.”
“I can’t wait to meet her,” Martie replied. “You don’t have to ask for permission to invite your family and friends over. This is your home now, Jo-Jo.”
“I have fajitas marinating. When she ge
ts here, I’ll fire up the grill.” Her fingers fiddled with the bottle again; then she pushed it away. She was so nervous. She’d tried to get information from Carmen about what was happening at home. Her sister had been vague, saying only that life is life, and you take it as it comes your way.
“Jovina.” Martie’s voice was soft. “Come and sit down next to me. You’re making me nervous, fiddling with everything you can get your hands on. Maybe we can put that energy to better use. We have a few hours until your sister arrives.”
Yes, they did. It was just after six, and Carmen had said she wouldn’t get there until almost eight. Jovina sat down next to her Mistress.
“I think it’s time I claimed you,” Martie said. “You’ve had a week to settle in, to process some of the things that happened. I wanted to wait until you had nothing else on your mind but the fact that I was putting my mark of ownership on you. But now, I want it done tonight, to remind you that you and I are bonded.”
“Carmen isn’t coming here to drag me out,” Jovina said with a laugh. “She wouldn’t have made an appointment for that. If that was her plan, she and a few of my brothers would have shown up and kidnapped me.”
“Interesting family dynamic,” Martie said. “One of these days you’re going to have to let me know exactly how many brothers and sisters you have, and which ones I should be looking out for, besides Robert.”
“I’ll make you a list.” Jovina laid her head on Martie’s shoulder. “I considered asking you about a collar today. I thought maybe you were waiting for me to say something, or there was some sort of secret code. I’ve never worn a collar, not a real one.”
She stopped speaking when Martie stood. “You’re babbling,” the Domme said. “Jovina, I waited for the exact reason I told you. Now, I want you to have it around your neck when your sister is here. Her presence is going to remind you of your past. Even if there were problems, it was comfortable, and it is what you know. My collar will remind you of your future. It will let you know that you belong where you are, with me.”
Jovina dropped to her knees. “Thank you, Mistress. I will be honored to wear your collar.”
“Follow me.” Martie walked out of the bedroom. Jovina crawled after her. When she got to the hallway, Jovina could see the Domme was moving toward what she called the playroom. They’d had sex in the room once, but they hadn’t used any of the equipment tacked to the walls, or the special chair or table that filled the space.
The idea of using them filled Jovina with excitement. She stopped inside the doorway. Martie stood at the table. Sitting on top of it were two items: a long, slim white jeweler’s box, and a thick leather collar.
Martie snapped her fingers. “Over here, slut; don’t dawdle!”
“I’m sorry, Mistress.” Jovina hurried across the floor and stopped at Martie’s feet.
“Look up.” Jovina lifted her gaze to her Mistress’s face. “There are two collars here, and you will wear one of them at all times. The leather collar is for playtime, or for when you are here alone. The other one is for when you are out in public, or when we have guests. There are locks for both of them, a small lock for the jeweled one that will be hidden by your hair in the back; a larger lock for the other. Only I have the keys.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Martie stroked her hair, and Jovina leaned into her touch. “There are a few questions I want you to answer, Jo-Jo.”
“Anything, Mistress.”
“Is this truly what you want?”
“Yes, Mistress, with all my heart. You’ve given me the courage to be who I really am. Thank you.”
She got a smile in return, but it said everything Jovina wanted.
“Stand up.” Jovina complied with M’s order. The Domme lifted the lid of the jeweler’s box. Inside lay a slim silver chain. “This is for later, when your sister is here. Right now, you’ll wear the leather collar, and I’ll whip your ass. That will, to quote a phrase, seal the deal.”
M picked up the collar. It was thick, and Jovina could see it would cover the entire length of her neck, keeping her head in an upright position. The Domme held it in front of her face.
“This is mine, and when you wear it, it makes you mine. Do you accept it?”
Jovina swallowed hard. She felt tears spring to her eyes as a sense of belonging washed over her. “Yes, Mistress.”
“Hold up your hair.” Jovina gathered her locks in her hands and held them up. Martie fastened the collar around Jovina’s neck. She heard the sound of the buckle being fastened, then the click of the lock.
Her nipples hardened, and her clit pulsed. She felt a need unlike anything she’d ever experienced, but it wasn’t for her own release. It was for the feel of Martie’s clit under her tongue, for the taste of M’s honey in the back of her throat.
Jovina wanted to kiss every part of the Domme’s body, letting her know that the sub she’d just claimed wanted nothing more than to please her.
Jovina rubbed her cheek against Martie’s thigh. “Thank you, Mistress, for the gift of your collar.”
“You’re welcome, my little slut. Now stand up, lower your jeans to your ankles, and ask, no, beg me for a whipping.”
Jovina scrambled to her feet. As fast as her fingers would work, she undid her jeans and pushed them down to her ankles. She bent over the table, putting her hands above her head.
“Mark my ass, Mistress, as your collar marks my neck. Please show me who I belong to.”
Chapter Nine
“I come bearing gifts.” Carmen held out a bottle of wine. Jovina took it and smiled at her little sister, who had her usual grin on her face.
“Come in.” Jovina stood away from the door and gestured for her sister to enter.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Once she was inside, she hugged Jovina. “Where’s the woman who stole your heart?”
Jovina blushed as they broke apart. “She’s outside, getting the grill ready. I made fajitas. Simple, yet delicious.”
“Yummy. Take me to her so I can check her out.”
Jovina had started to walk toward the back, but she stopped and turned toward her sister. “Is that why you’re here?”
“Of course.” Carmen winked at her. “You may be older, but you’re a baby in so many ways. I want to let her know that if she hurts you, I’ll kick her ass.”
“Message received,” Martie said from behind her. Jovina turned toward her Mistress. She was about to say she was sorry for her sister’s words, but Martie continued to talk before Jovina could speak. “I’m happy to hear that someone cares about her so much.”
“We all do, though the men of our family can be jerks,” Carmen replied.
It was on the tip of her tongue to say her father wouldn’t rescue her from a burning building, but Jovina kept her mouth closed. Martie came up behind Jovina and put her arm around Jovina’s waist. She pressed their bodies together. She kissed Jovina’s neck, right above the thin collar.
It was such an obvious show of ownership, and it made Jovina shiver. She was happy to see it made Carmen smile.
“Let’s open the wine,” Martie said as she took the bottle from Jovina’s hand. “Then I’ll grill the meat while the two of you chat.”
After the wine was opened, Jovina poured three glasses. Martie took hers in one hand, and the platter of chicken and steak in the other before she headed out to the deck. When she was gone, Carmen fixed a look on her sister.
“So, you love this woman? You barely know her.”
Jovina opened a drawer, looking for a pot holder. When she didn’t find what she wanted, she closed it and opened another, then repeated the process. It was in the third drawer.
“Still learning my way around,” she said with a laugh as she waved the holder.
“And still avoiding questions,” Carmen replied. “Was it love at first sight?”
“Yes.” Jovina returned Carmen’s stare. “And I’ve known her for a while. This was just the first time we were…together.”
; “Having sex.” Carmen wiggled her brows as the words left her mouth.
“Yes.” Jovina pointed to her sister’s glass. “Don’t drink too much wine, or else you’ll have to stay in the guest bedroom.”
“Oh, I’m staying with my friend Rosa Garcia. She has some guy she wants me to meet. I have some of your mail in the car. Mom sent it with me.”
The mention of her mother made Jovina’s heart tighten. “How is she?”
“Sad, but not because you’re a lesbian. She’s mad at Dad and Robert for kicking you out. I heard her scream at Dad, tell him it was time he realized it was the twenty-first century, and he wasn’t the Godfather.”
“What?” Jovina’s mouth hung open.
“I know. I was shocked too. I don’t think she’s ever stood up to him before. She came to me yesterday with some mail that Robert had marked return to sender, no forwarding address. She asked me to bring it to you.”
“She yelled at Dad?”
“Yup.” Carmen, who had sat down in a chair at the table, leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. “And she called Robert an ass. She told them they didn’t have the right to tell her daughter that she wouldn’t see her.”
That was a shock. But, Jovina thought, actions speak louder than words. Her mother had not called her, nor had she brought Jovina’s mail to her. She’d sent Carmen in her stead.
One step at a time. “Tell me, how is everyone else taking the news?”
“It varies,” Carmen told her. “But I don’t think everyone is going to cross you off the Christmas list. A few of them, maybe.”
Jovina exhaled loudly. She had thought all eight of her brothers and sisters would wash their hands of her. She was shocked to hear it wasn’t that way.
“What are you going to do now, be a housewife?”
“No.” Jovina sniffed the air as the smell of burned beans reached her nose. “Oh crap.” She grabbed the pan and moved it from the flame. The beans on top were bubbling, but she was sure the ones on the bottom were burned. “I think housewife is not in my vocabulary.”
After she searched for a bowl, she emptied the edible food into it.
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