Mongo chose that moment to come charging into the kitchen, sniffing the air madly, his body quivering as he scented out the intruder. Spying the tiny fluff ball that was buried nose deep in his meal, Mongo let out a proprietary growl.
The newcomer sprang up, nipped Mongo on the nose, then returned to its business.
Mongo—all one hundred twenty pounds of him—yelped with surprise, then flopped down on the floor, rolled over onto his back, and stared at the pup adoringly, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.
Scarlett’s and Logan’s eyes met over the towel she was using to dry her hands, and they both burst into laughter.
“Not hard to figure out the dynamics in that one.” She smirked as she made her way to Logan, seeming content that the puppy was filling its belly. To his surprise she pushed him down into one of the hard-backed kitchen chairs, then straddled his lap, facing him.
It was stupid, he knew, but the dogs set his mind at ease a bit.
It didn’t always have to matter who was bigger, badder, more alpha. Sometimes nature just dictated that one was to dominate and one to submit.
Logan’s cock paid attention when Scarlett wiggled herself into position on his lap. With her dress pushed up around her hips, her panties and his thin shorts weren’t much of a barrier, and her damp heat surrounded him like a hug.
And then she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him for real, nuzzling her face against his neck. He realized with a jolt that she hadn’t held him yet, not really—and knowing her, it was probably because she’d known he wasn’t ready.
This time he surprised himself by hugging back.
“Thanks for indulging me with the dog,” she whispered into his ear, and even though the feel of her lips against his ear made his cock surge, he found that he was content to just hold her and be held in return.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d snuggled. Since before he’d gone overseas, probably.
It was nice.
“Our guest will be here soon.” Scarlett pressed her lips to his, momentarily fogging his brain. “If it wasn’t going to be good for you, I’d be tempted to just ignore the doorbell.”
Pleasure flooded through him at the thought . . . and then came the jealousy. Though by this point he knew it probably wasn’t another sub—Scarlett wasn’t that kind of woman, and what they had between them seemed real—she made him feel possessive.
“So this guest . . .” He started carefully, leaning back in his chair so that he could see her face. “Want to tell me anything more?”
Yes, Scarlett was not the kind of woman to flaunt another submissive under his nose. But that didn’t mean that her friend wasn’t a submissive, and to his way of thinking, any sub who didn’t want Scarlett was soft in the head.
Grinding his teeth together, he waited for her response.
“Your jealousy is flattering.” Resting her hands on his shoulders for balance, Scarlett regarded him thoughtfully. “But since you need to trust me, I’m not answering. I’m going to let you suffer a bit longer.”
“Of course I’m jealous!” The words burst out of Logan though he hadn’t meant to say them. “I’m practically a recluse who has at least a decade on you. I’m submissive but can’t seem to stop myself from putting you through hell.”
The light slap across his cheek wasn’t designed to hurt, but it startled him enough to rear back.
Scarlett had cocked her head, her eyes narrowed.
“So how old are you?” she demanded.
“Thirty-five,” he answered reluctantly. Not old . . . but she was just starting out in life.
“Oh yeah, you’re ancient,” she agreed, her tone layered with sarcasm. “No woman who has spent years dealing with drunken frat boys could possibly be interested in a man with some maturity under his belt.”
“Scarlett,” Logan started, his words a warning. “I’m being serious. And I’m not in the mood for sarcasm.”
She could have demanded that he get on all fours, could have paddled his ass for insolence. Instead she nodded, accepting his words.
Treating him like an equal, despite the roles in their relationship.
Right until that moment Logan hadn’t realized that he expected his Mistresses to treat him like . . . something less. That some part of him craved it, and not in the sexual way in which some subs did.
The realization stunned him speechless, so Scarlett kept on talking without interruption from him.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re successful. Intelligent. Sexy as hell.” She pressed an exaggerated, smacking kiss to his lips. “You’re a real catch, Dr. Brody. So why don’t you tell me why you’ve never had a Mistress for more than one night?”
“How do you know that?” He tried to pull back, furiously uncomfortable with the sharp turn their easy conversation had taken. “You don’t know that.”
“I do now.”
Logan felt himself closing up under the weight of her stare. He couldn’t tell her why he’d closed himself away from the world, or about the needs that kept him trapped out here in the middle of nowhere.
“Let’s start with something easier, then.” His tricky, persistent woman, acting like a pit bull with a bone in its jaws, tapped her finger against her luscious mouth, and he almost crushed his lips to hers to distract her.
That’s what she would expect him to do. To try to grab control.
He wanted to do better.
“Tell me something about yourself.” When he hesitated, she narrowed her eyes mincingly, then gently, so gently, wrapped her hand around his neck, a reminder of who was in charge. “I asked you a question, sub.”
“I like to ride,” he blurted out, squeezing his eyes shut. “I—when I’m on horseback, it feels like I can outride . . . memories.”
Keeping his eyes shut, Logan waited for the shame to kick in. This was the deepest admission he’d ever made to anyone besides Luca.
Scarlett stayed silent, but he felt the softest butterfly touches brushing over his face, each press of her fingertips like the promise of a kiss.
He let her touch.
“Tell me something else,” she demanded, running her fingers over his lips. He swiped his tongue over them, too, following her touch.
“I feel more for you than I want to.” Opening his eyes, Logan found no disgust, no anger waiting for him on her face.
“In a relationship like ours, all of the power lies with the submissive. Remember that, Logan.”
He opened his mouth to reply, though he had no idea what he was going to say. But the doorbell rang right then, the shrill buzz slicing through the tender moment. Both dogs yowled with excitement, the sharp yips of the stray punctuating Mongo’s low rumbles.
“You answer the door while I put these guys in the dog run.” Scarlett gestured toward the front door with one hand as she slid off his lap. Her lips twitched when she saw that even his difficult confessions hadn’t eased his erection.
“You were wiggling around on my lap!” he protested, horror dawning when he realized he was about to answer his front door in nothing but teeny-tiny shorts and a big smile.
Anyone could be standing on the other side—a courier driver, a patient with a sick pet, even the town pastor.
Scarlett stood calmly, waiting, he saw, for him to make up his mind.
Grinding his teeth together, Logan drew himself up tall, then made his way to the front door.
If Scarlett wanted him to ride his horse naked through Las Vegas, he would try.
Because she listened.
Because she hadn’t left.
Because whatever this thing was between them, it was growing stronger every day.
Cringing inwardly, Logan fixed a stoic expression on his face and swung open the heavy front door.
And sighed with relief when he saw that it was Luca.
>
“Come on in, man.” Logan reached out a hand to his oldest friend, forgetting for a moment that he was wearing next to nothing.
Then he saw the figure behind Luca and froze.
“What’s he doing here?” Logan couldn’t hold back the snarl as he saw Bren, eyes cast down, waiting patiently for Luca to give him instructions. “I don’t want him in my house.”
“I don’t believe you’re giving the orders here tonight, sub.”
Logan’s jaw dropped as Luca—the man he’d been crammed ass to elbow with in the shittiest locations on earth—regarded him coldly, looked him up and down in a manner that told him he wasn’t very impressed with what he saw.
Luca looked at him like a Dom would a sub, and despite every fiber of his being fighting the notion, Logan found his submissive training taking over.
His eyes went to the floor and he shut his mouth, though what he really wanted to do was slam the door in the other sub’s face.
“That’s better.” Luca gestured to Bren, who stepped through the door quietly—always the perfect sub, Logan thought on an inner sneer.
Then Luca tapped him under the chin, sharply enough to hurt, forcing Logan to look him in the eye. “Your mistress says that you have a decent pain tolerance. But I feel compelled to remind you that you’ve never been under my whip.”
Luca swept into the house, Bren following behind him. And Logan realized that, for the first time since he’d entered the lifestyle, he might have been maneuvered in over his head.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Scarlett kept a close eye on her submissive as she met Luca in the front entryway and proceeded to guide him into the dining room. Earlier that day she had set the table with a deep red tablecloth, a vase of wildflowers that she’d pulled from the fields behind the ranch, and fat white pillar candles that scented the air with sandalwood and candle wax.
She had intended for the setting to lend an air of formality to the evening, and if the others were feeling at all like she was, then she’d succeeded.
At ease in any situation, Luca followed her to the dining room table, sat in the hard-backed chair, and made himself comfortable. When he pulled Bren to him by the collar of his shirt, speaking in low tones that Scarlett couldn’t hear, she knew that he was giving Bren his orders.
She was surprised and not entirely happy to see the other sub . . . but not, she saw, nearly as surprised or unhappy as Logan.
The longer she watched Logan, the more clear it became that his agitation stemmed from something deeper than jealousy or possessiveness.
At his heart Logan was an alpha male, wired to protect what was his, and now outsiders had invaded his home. It didn’t take much of a leap of logic for her to realize that he thought of it as his sanctuary.
Despite the glares he shot Bren when he thought she wasn’t looking, she felt he was conducting himself quite well, considering. And Luca had helped her to position Logan right where she wanted him—on the edge and uncomfortable.
After their tender moment in the kitchen, she felt like they were so very close to a breakthrough, one that would bond them together more tightly. And yet weariness arrowed through her body at all of the maneuvering she was doing to bring him to that edge.
She simply didn’t know what else to do, and she wanted him so badly that it made her ache. If she’d had even the faintest sense that he didn’t feel the same way, she would have walked away.
But what was between them could be beautiful. It already was.
But it could still be more.
“Thanks for having us, Mistress Scarlett.” Luca grinned at her as he leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table. “That title sounds good.”
“Feels good, too. Most of the time.” She directed the last at Logan, who started, then looked plain old pissed off at her comment.
She felt a twinge of guilt, but swallowed it away. If they were bickering, as they so often did, he wouldn’t be focused on feeling like his home had been violated.
“Bren, Mistress Scarlett says that she has dinner ready in the kitchen. You will be serving it to us this evening.” Luca didn’t look at the other sub as he spoke. Instead his manner was that of someone who knew he would be obeyed.
Scarlett noticed that Bren cast a look in her direction before following Luca’s directive, an odd hesitation for a submissive of his discipline.
“I’ve never seen you choose a male sub before.” Scarlett had seen Luca top men in demonstrations at the club, in training, and even when a submissive had expressed a desire to live out a certain fantasy. But she knew Luca well—better than most. And her massive, overly charming Dom of a best friend was all about the ladies. All of the ladies.
Luca seemed to consider her comment as he carelessly handed a bottle of wine to Logan. Scarlett felt a quiet glow start in her chest when, though it was obvious that Luca wanted Logan to pour them each a glass, her sub looked to her for permission first.
She nodded, and though Logan scowled at Luca—making her bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing—he moved to the sideboard and retrieved glasses.
“I’m not averse to the idea, though you’re right. I usually prefer women. But when Bren found out I was coming to visit you, he begged to be allowed the privilege of accompanying me,” Luca finally said, holding out a hand for the wine that Logan had poured and brought back.
At Luca’s explanation, Logan’s hand tightened on the fragile stem of the wineglass, fingers clenching to the point that Scarlett worried it might snap and slice through his palm.
But Luca goaded Logan further, playing him into the hands of a Master.
Instead of sipping at the wine, Luca smirked up at Logan. “Take a sip, sub. I’d like to see how much of the information Alex and Elijah shoved down your throat so many years ago has stuck. If you can identify the type of wine, then you may go sit at your Mistress’s feet.”
Scarlett had to lift her own glass to her lips quickly to cover the laughter that threatened when she saw the strangled expression cross Logan’s face. For a moment she would have put money on Logan dumping the liquid over his friend’s head rather than sipping it.
But though he didn’t look happy about it, he did as Luca had commanded. Slowly.
“I do believe that this effervescent beverage is a merlot, Sir.” His voice dripped with exaggerated politeness, and Scarlett sucked quickly at the wine in her glass to hold back her laugh.
She’d known it would be tough for Logan to play the submissive in the presence of his friend. And he was behaving far better than she’d anticipated.
Which meant he was getting comfortable. Time to switch things up.
When Bren came back into the room, now entirely naked, a platter balanced on each hand, a wicked idea crossed Scarlett’s mind.
“Master Luca, I see that you’ve commanded your sub to strip.” Scarlett stretched lazily in her own chair, gesturing Bren to place the serving dishes on the table. “You know, my submissive is a competitive creature. An alpha in every area but the bedroom.”
“I can see that.” Luca grinned, and Scarlett knew that he was enjoying his friend’s discomfort, a true sadist to the bone. “We’d best fix that, then.”
Smiling, though her heart was pounding, Scarlett turned to face Logan, who was still standing beside Luca. “Strip.”
Logan was already almost naked, that little set of brief black shorts the only thing protecting his modesty. But there was a massive difference between being allowed a few scraps of clothing and none at all, and Scarlett knew that.
Knew it and used it to her advantage.
“I said, strip.” A streak of meanness entered her voice. Logan glared at her, his hands fisting at his sides.
“Like hell I will.”
She supposed she could consider it an improvement that he was simply refusing, rather than making lewd suggestions
about them going somewhere so he could get naked for her privately. But as she watched the struggle pass over his features, she wondered, not for the first time, if Logan was even capable of using his safe word.
It was time to stop thinking things through so much, to go with her gut. So she pushed further.
“You will, or you won’t like the consequences.” She paused to let the words sink in.
Logan’s jaw worked as his entire body tensed. Finally, he shoved his shorts down over his hips, let them fall to the floor. When they reached his ankles, he kicked them in the general direction of Bren, who was still standing quietly by the table.
“That’s better.” Smiling teasingly, she reached over to take Luca’s hand. Linked fingers with him—a joining of equals.
Logan’s body quivered, as though he was trying to restrain his rage. He managed to stay still but couldn’t quite hold back his frown.
Alpha in so many other aspects of his life, Logan had a hard time accepting anyone else’s claim on her, even one as simple as friendship. His response thrilled her to her soul.
But Scarlett cast him a reproving glare. “I will touch whomever I choose, sub. Mind your manners, or I’ll gag you.”
Though he glared, Logan did as she said, closing his mouth.
“Very nice.” Imperiously, Scarlett gestured to him. “Come here.”
After stiffly stalking to where she sat, Logan knelt at her side. She saw the emotion and confusion on his face and hoped she wasn’t pushing him too far.
They were on the edge—the edge of something. She just wished she could be certain that pushing them to fall was the right thing to do.
At Luca’s command, the subs served up two plates of food. Scarlett had prepared a selection of simple finger foods—something that she’d been able to throw together after work that day, ones that could be hand-fed to a sub without becoming too messy. Bren had lined her plate with wedges of toast and soft cheese, crackers and pâté, slices of ripe strawberry and juicy melon, all things that she’d driven twenty minutes into town to purchase at the surprisingly well-stocked little grocery store.
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