Show Me, Baby: A Masters of the Shadowlands Novella (1001 Dark Nights)

by Sinclair Cherise

  She smiled at the pup. “Of course, you’re absolutely the best dog ever, so other dogs might not measure up.”

  Never had a pet? Jake raked his hand through his hair. What kind of parents didn’t give their kid…something? He and his sister had conned his folks into cats, dogs, rabbits, birds—even mice and hamsters and gerbils, until one too many escaped, and his mother had decreed a no rodent establishment. “How come no pets?”

  “My mother didn’t like animals. And later, when…Well. I never got a pet.” She concentrated on picking up her spilled bag, and the light in her face dimmed.

  As she rocked, trying to rise, he put a hand under her arm and helped her to her feet.

  “Thanks.” She gave him an uncertain look. “I appreciate you bringing me home. So—”

  “While I’m here, I want to examine the dog. What’s his name again? Anger? Fury?”

  Her smile popped back out. “It’s Rhage—with an ‘RH’.”

  Right. Why the hell would she spell a name that way? Shaking his head, he lifted the pup and walked into the living room.

  Pretty place. Rainie’d overcome the apartment’s off-white walls and beige carpet by scattering bright floral pillows over her white-denim-covered couch and chair. Artwork of ocean vistas hung on the walls, and the coffee table and end tables were constructed of glass and driftwood. The entire room had a beach-at-sunrise ambiance.

  Jake took a seat on the couch and stroked Rhage’s soft fur. The dog was already filling out a bit. Eyes clear. Happy smile.

  “Easy, boy. Let me check you over.” He palpated the abdomen. Soft, non-distended. No tenderness.

  Rainie sat down beside him, petting Rhage as she listened to her cell’s voice messages. A junk call. A friend hoping to meet for lunch. The closure of a phone account for a Lily someone. Absently, she rubbed her forehead.

  The alcohol was probably wearing off. Jake set the dog down and patted her thigh. “Where’s your aspirin?”

  “In the bathroom. Do you have a headache? I’ll get you some.”

  “Stay put, baby. I’ll find it.” After tossing his suit coat over the back of a chair, he crossed the room, detouring to check out the shelves beneath the television stand.

  She had a ton of books, mostly historical and contemporary romance novels. Even the suspense stories were—judging by the covers—still romance. The DVDs were predominantly chick flicks. The Princess Bride DVD had been played so often the cover was cracked. Dread Pirate Roberts, hmm?

  Someone was a romantic.

  In the bathroom, he rummaged for the aspirin and finally found it under the sink. With two tablets in his palm, he stepped out to an empty living room.

  Loud voices drew him to the front of the apartment where Rainie stood at the door, talking with someone.

  He stayed back, not wanting to intrude, although—wasn’t it rather late for visitors?

  An unhappy realization dawned. For all he knew, she had a boyfriend. Or two. Had a date planned.

  But she didn’t sound pleased with the guy. When her spine went steel-post rigid, Jake decided to step in.

  On the front step, the man was focused on Rainie, not seeing Jake behind her in the shadowy hallway. The blond was good-looking enough, although his slick GQ impression was ruined by a fucked-up sneer reminiscent of Professor Snape in Harry Potter. The guy told Rainie, “I said this already. You make me happy; I’ll make you happy.”

  Jake scowled. What the fuck?

  Just in case his female audience missed the point, the guy patted his groin. Had a hard-on, Jake noted. Jesus, what an asshole. If Rainie wanted this guy, then, as a Shadowlands Master, Jake was going to go all Dom on her ass.

  “And I told you already, Cory, I’m the office manager,” Rainie said. “Not a whore.”

  “You look like a whore to me. Try behaving like one. You fucking go down on me”—Cory unbuckled his belt—”or the only money you’ll make will be from hooking on the streets. Cuz you won’t be working for me.”

  “Seriously?” Her voice went higher with her shock. “Cory, are you insane? You can’t run that place without me.”

  “I can do anything I want to. And that includes fucking the staff.”

  She let out a growl of pure anger, but the asshole grabbed her wrists and yanked her out the door.

  Jake shook his head in surprise. Alcohol must have impaired her reactions or she’d have emasculated the guy. Oh well. He stepped around Rainie and punched the asshole in the snout. Cartilage crunched satisfyingly.

  “Fuck, fuck!” Hands clapped over his face, Cory staggered back. “Jesus!”

  Gently but firmly, Jake pushed Rainie behind him, catching a glimpse of her wide eyes. “Easy, sweetling. Just let me finish this up.”

  He advanced on the asshole.

  “What the fuck!” Cory’d regained his balance—and discovered his nose was busted. “I’m going to kill you, you—”

  Right. A punch to the solar plexus doubled up the idiot. Jake quickly sidestepped to avoid any blood spatter—and hammered an elbow onto the guy’s back over the kidney.

  Cory hit the pavement with a pleasant thump. Crying and swearing, he curled into a ball.

  Jake considered kicking the bastard’s junk into his throat. No, Sheffield, that would be overkill. He turned to check on Rainie.

  Hands pressed to her mouth, she stood in the doorway. Eyes wide and horrified.

  Hell. She’d probably never seen a fight before. Might even like the asshole. Well, if she did, he was going to have a long, long talk with her.

  Jake cleared his throat to get her attention. “Please tell me you two aren’t friends.”

  She shook her head no, then called, “Hey, Cory.”

  The asshole had made it up to his knees. “You-you fucking—”

  “I quit.”

  “And that answers my concern nicely.” Jake guided her into her apartment—pushing a snarling Rhage back—and closed the door. With the pup trotting at his heels, he walked into the living room and settled Rainie on the couch.

  Dropping down beside her, he pulled her close. “Your ex-boss is an asshole, sweetling.”

  “Yeah. He really is.” When her lower lip trembled, she mashed her mouth into a flat line. “Looks like I’m unemployed.”

  “I’m sorry, baby. You know, you could take legal action.”

  She shook her head. “The company belongs to Cory’s father. And Bart…he means a lot to me.”

  Compassion, again. He was beginning to realize how deep her caring spirit went. “Have you been working there long?”

  She stared at the wall, looking little-girl lost. “A few years.

  Long enough to feel the loss. Hell. “Do you have a plan in mind?”

  Her face was still shell-shocked pale. “I—I guess I start job hunting.”

  “What exactly do you do? I know some people.”

  “No. But thank you.” Her chin lifted. “I can find work, and I don’t need much to survive. Not anymore.” Her gaze turned toward the end table and a photo. A thin, white-haired woman posed cheek-to-cheek with a beaming Rainie, who looked about eighteen.

  The grief in Rainie’s face broke Jake’s heart. Hell, she couldn’t catch a break, could she? “Your grandmother?”

  “Miss Lily. She…gave me a home when I was seventeen.” Rainie’s eyes gleamed with tears before she turned her head away. “She’s gone now. So, aside from Rhage, I don’t have anyone to spend money on.”

  With a whine, Rhage crawled into her lap, and she buried her face in his fur.

  Jake stayed silent, hurting for her.

  Yet the more he discovered about her, the more she pleased him. The woman was more than a fun-loving submissive with attitude. She possessed a deep well of character, one he wanted to explore.

  Her first thought about losing Miss Lily was regret at not having the elderly woman to care for. And a self-centered woman wouldn’t rescue an injured animal, ruin her suit, risk being bitten—or spend money on it afterward
. Someone had a heart big enough to match her abundant body.

  Jake glanced at the basket in the corner. Looked like the dog probably had more toys than Rainie—although Jake wouldn’t mind checking her nightstand to see how many toys she did have. Putting that thought away for some time in the more distant future, he tugged on her hair, pulling her attention back to him. A change of subject would be wise, especially since he didn’t plan to leave until he knew she’d be all right. “Your dog looks good, by the way, and I’d guess he’s about two or three years old.”

  She turned her head. Paused. “Oh. Right. He’s older than I thought.” As she gently smoothed the dog’s mustache, she asked, “What kind of dog is he? Can you tell?”

  “Now, that’s trickier.” Jake studied the beast as he stroked the wavy soft—clean—fur. “Mostly poodle.” Muzzle wasn’t squished. Had a double coat that was fairly heavy. Fur fell over the eyes. Ears flopped. Interesting coloring with black ears and face, white on his whiskers, chest, and legs. “Might be part Tibetan Terrier. That’s a good combination. Smart, friendly, not too hyper.”

  “That sounds like my baby. You’re a hero, puppy.” She kissed the top of Rhage’s fuzzy head before smiling at Jake. “And so are you. Thank you for the rescue.” Her grateful expression made him feel as if he could accomplish anything.

  Jake managed a seated bow. “All part of the pirate-rescue service. Speaking of which…” He rose and retrieved the aspirin tablets along with a glass of water.

  He squatted beside her and set the medicine in her hand. “Take the pills and drink all the water.”

  “For me?”

  Did no one take care of her? “Yes. Drink up, sweetheart.”

  From the corner of his eye, he saw the dog wander over to a pile of soft blankets and settle in with a sigh.

  Chapter Six

  Why was Master Jake being so nice?

  Holding the water and aspirin, Rainie regarded him. He was on his haunches, perfectly comfortable in that position. His rolled-up shirtsleeves showed corded forearms under a dusting of brown hair. Along his sharp jawline, his designer stubble was darker from the day’s growth. His steady gaze was compelling. This Dom didn’t flaunt his power, but kept it hidden like the strong current in a deceptively lazy river.

  He’d saved her. After flattening Cory without even mussing his clothing, his only concern had been for her. He made her feel…special. Valued.

  “Are you going to stay for a bit?” she blurted out and wanted to cringe. What was she thinking?

  His eyes crinkled. “Do you want me to?”

  This time, she took a moment to think, but oh, her desire hadn’t changed. She’d craved him since she was sixteen. Sure, she was being unwise, yet, why not? As soon as she had the funds, she’d move from Florida and wouldn’t see him ever again. She breathed out, accepting the pain in the same way she’d absorb the impact from a flogger. “Yes. Stay. But I don’t want anything serious. A one-night stand is fine with me.”

  His eyes narrowed at her qualification. At the club, he’d picked up on the fact she wasn’t searching for a permanent Dom. But still…it should be a relief to him now, right?

  He didn’t say anything…just looked at her.

  Under his intent gaze, her entire body heated as if a desert wind swept across her skin. She could smell his cologne—a light scent that combined sex and male in one heady note. Her hand moved of its own accord, over his lean cheek, along the stern jawline.

  His lips curved against her fingers. “You sure, sweetling?” he asked, his voice huskier.

  Yet the glint of laughter in his gaze made her stiffen. “You’re the Dom. Aren’t you supposed to make all the decisions?”

  He turned her wrist over and kissed it lightly. How could his firm lips feel like velvet? “Absolutely—after you say this is what you want. I need to hear the words.” The resolve in his tone said he wasn’t joking. “After that, since you’re not a newbie, I stop only if you safeword with ‘red.’”

  God, it was as if he’d flipped open a hormone switch that sent all the blood in her body straight to her core. Put up or shut up, Rainie.

  How rare for a man to be so straightforward. None of that “C’mon, baby, just let me…” And oh, she wanted him more than she could say. She leaned forward, her mouth almost on his. What would he taste like? “I’d like you to take me—in any way you desire.”

  He tilted his head in a formal acknowledgment she couldn’t duplicate in a million years. “As you wish, buttercup.”

  Her insides instantly turned to melted jelly, but he didn’t give her a chance to process how he’d sounded exactly like Westley from The Princess Bride.

  He curved his callused hand around her nape and held her in place as his mouth grazed over hers, settled, and then took…slowly and so thoroughly she felt ravished without ever taking a stitch off.

  “Mmm.” He studied her face and smiled. “Let’s have another.”

  When he halted the next time, she was dizzy, barely comprehending he was guiding her into the bedroom.

  He stopped in the doorway, perhaps in surprise at changing from her cottage-style living room to an Italian Renaissance bedroom.

  Although threadbare, the richly colored tapestries brightened the walls and faded Oriental rugs were layered over the beige carpeting. Her prize—an ornate Italianate frame bed—took up most of the room. Dark red, gauze draperies hung from a suspended metal frame to create an Old-World style canopy bed.

  Smiling, Jake ran his finger down her cheek. “You really are a romantic at heart.”

  A shiver ran through her as he tilted his head back to study the well-anchored, rectangular frame that hung a foot below the ceiling. “Well.” His low voice brushed like suede against her skin. “This has potential.”

  She bit her lip, belatedly realizing how many tie points the bed and frame provided. And this man was a Dom.

  Perhaps she should have kept him in the living room.

  “So…wench.” As his lips twisted into a cruel smile, he curled his fingers over the top of her bustier and yanked her forward. “I didn’t save you from your sinking ship—and my crew—to receive a mere verbal thank you.”

  “Jake.” Her eyes widened as he started unhooking the front of her garment.

  “I’m ready to inspect what my sword has won me.”

  Oh God. Her heart pounded as the bustier fell to the floor, and air brushed her damp skin. He lifted her breast, teasing the nipple with a thumbnail. “I’m definitely going to play with these.” The corner of his mouth tipped up. “Although you might not enjoy it as much as I will.”

  The sensuous threat sizzled straight to her pussy even as he unfastened her short skirt and shoved her thong down, leaving her in only a garter belt and mesh stockings.

  “Those can stay on.” Satisfaction filled in his gaze. “Very nice.”

  He pointed at the bed. “Up there, wench. Sit on the edge and await my pleasure.”

  She hesitated.

  “Too slow.” He curved his long fingers around the front of her neck and smacked her bottom hard enough to make her yelp.

  A whine came from behind the closed door, and she realized he’d shut Rhage out.

  Jake’s gaze followed hers and filled with amusement. “No rescue for you, sweetling.” He swatted her again, smiling at her squeak. “Tonight, you’re mine for as long as I want to use you.”

  The hand around her throat was big enough to grip without shutting off her air…and yet, and yet…if he tightened his fingers, he could.

  Knowing she was here alone with him sent little tremors up her spine. Not…quite…fear.

  “Spread your legs for me now.” The dark edge of threat sliced into her defenses like a razor through silk.

  The burning from her spanked bottom and helplessness under his hands were affecting her, she knew. Nonetheless, her legs inched apart.

  He ran his hand between her thighs. “I love a smooth, bare pussy. A pussy that gets wet from spankings is ev
en better.”

  Doms discovered secrets. It’s what they did. So why did each bit of knowledge he acquired make her as uneasy as though she’d surrendered part of her soul?

  “Go.” He pointed again to the bed.

  She certainly didn’t hesitate this time. As she planted her butt on the mattress, he rummaged her bedroom. He picked up several silky scarves from the golden brackets on the wall. Purse straps came from a shelf in her closet. Then he opened the drawer to her nightstand and made a gratified sound.

  Embarrassed heat flooded her face. “No. You—”

  “Eyes down, woman, or I’ll blindfold you.” He picked up a tube of…

  God, that was the peppermint clit stimulant she’d recently bought and had been too chicken to use. She heard its wrapping tear and managed not to look up.

  Hard hands pushed her knees apart, and he used the applicator to smear the stuff all over her throbbing clit, ignoring her squirming.

  After tossing the tube onto the nightstand, he asked, “You don’t own any nipple clamps?”

  God, no. Her breasts were sensitive enough without pointed pokey clamps. She shook her head and dared a look at him.

  His cheek creased as he looked at her. “That’s all right, wench. I have other ways to torture female parts.”

  She considered grabbing a pillow and covering up the target area. But surely, he wouldn’t push her past what she could take. She knew that. Right?

  After examining the gauze canopy curtains for sturdiness, he repositioned the fabric along the metal rail. He tied two opposite sides together to form a kind of sling near the head of the bed.

  Finding the candles in the wall shelves, he lit them. Then he checked her music selection on the iPod. When Kitaro’s soft strains drifted from the small speakers, she knew he’d discovered her playlist labeled “Sex.”

  The man didn’t miss a trick.

  “Eyes down, Rainie,” he warned her again.

  She tried to obey, but had to—just had to—watch him.