Bunny and the Beast [Divine Creek Ranch 22] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)

by Heather Rainier

“Very professional, Bunny,” she muttered to herself as she navigated the long, curving driveway, unsuccessfully trying to ignore the way the top of her hand tingled where he’d kissed it..

  She glanced at the book, still in its pristine wrappings, as if a snake was inside the package. “I’m not becoming a doormat. I don’t submit to anyone. Not ever.” The possibility she was wrong about the whole ball of wax was growing in her gut with each utterance of those words.

  Joseph’s handsome face flashed in her mind’s eye, and she shook her head. She doubted his intention was to harm her. He might be hard to understand at times, but he had a kind soul. She could feel it. But the hard shell around him kept Bunny on edge. One moment, she wanted to be closer to him, and then the next, she was pulling away, afraid of being hurt.

  The streets were wet when she got back to Divine and the scent of fresh rain on hot asphalt filled the air. When she got home, she locked up her truck and the toolbox in the back and carried the book inside, cradling its innocuous weight.

  Tristan was in the bathroom brushing his teeth when she came inside, dressed in his pajamas and ready for bed. With his mouth slightly foamy, he grinned and waved at her as she passed the bathroom.

  Around a mouthful of toothpaste, he hollered, “You got home late! Whatcha got there, sis?” His voice, although tempered with deeper tones, was as always filled with child-like curiosity and good humor. Externally he might be a teenager of fifteen, but in his mind, he hovered closer to the mental capability of a third-grader.

  “Sorry, sweetie. I had to work late, and then I ate supper with a friend.”

  “A boyfriend?”

  “No,” she said with a mild shake of her head as she laid the book on her nightstand.

  “Grinnie said you were eating with a man. A man friend?”

  Not wanting to debate the finer points of boys and men, Bunny nodded. “A friend who happens to be a man.”

  “You getting married, Bunny?” he asked, looking worried.

  She walked over to him and patted his arm to reassure him. “No, Tristan, I’m not getting married. Why aren’t you in bed yet, mister?”

  “Grinnie let me watch TV with her. I’m going now. Is that a book? Can you read it to me?”

  “Yes, but why don’t we get one of your books instead, huh?” she replied and then kissed Grinnie’s cheek when she came down the hallway from the den. “Go find our book, and I’ll read with you for a while.”

  She went into her room and unlaced her work boots and groaned as she rubbed the balls of her feet. Climbing made them tender, and then she’d been running all over the mansion all day. She could just picture Joseph’s reaction if she brought her roller blades the next day.

  “You okay, Bunny-girl?” Grinnie asked, standing in her bedroom doorway in her housecoat. “You look worn out. I can read to him if you want.”

  “Nah, that’s okay,” Bunny said easily, the beautiful simplicity of her life settling around her once again. “I know your show is coming on soon, and I was looking forward to reading another chapter of The Hobbit with Tristan.”

  “Mmmhmm,” Grinnie murmured, pursing her lips and trying to hide her smile. “And how was your dinner date?”

  “Fine,” she replied, paying close attention to her feet as she rubbed them.

  “‘Fine’? That’s all you’re going to tell me?”

  “For now. He’s—it’s complicated, Grinnie. He’s a businessman with a fancy house, and I’m just…”

  “Someone really special, if he has any brains in his head. You know, you have a right to a social life, honey. As long as he respects you and treats you the way you deserve.”

  Bunny bit her lip, wondering how Joseph would answer if Grinnie ever made that statement to his face. She had to reconcile what she’d learn in that book with what she already had seen taking place at his mansion. Was respect really a part of that dynamic? She had a hard time imagining it wasn’t, based on all her encounters with him. Was he bossy? Undoubtedly. Was he disrespectful? Judging by what she’d seen so far, the answer to that question was a resounding no.

  Tristan filled Bunny in on the intricacies of his day, time spent online, receiving instruction from his tutor, and then grocery shopping with Grinnie afterward. He asked about going to the skateboard park in Morehead sometime and then inquired about her adventures. Only today, she had to hold parts back. How to explain Joseph Hazelle to the brother who needed her, would likely always need her?

  Joseph could complicate her life, in a major way. If she read that book, what would she find?

  The dogs began to bark in the neighbor’s backyard, probably at someone walking on the sidewalk out front or perhaps in the alley. After reading to Tristan for a while, she turned on his sound machine to filter some of the noise from traffic on the street and the dogs barking. The three of them lived in an older, slightly more dilapidated section of Divine, right off of downtown, near the Sheriff’s Department offices.

  One of her goals was setting aside enough savings and growing her home theater and Internet client base so she could afford to move Tristan and Grinnie to a quieter house on the outskirts of town. Her grandparents had bought the house decades before, but even Grinnie was easy to convince—

  Shots fired outside had her hitting her knees and scrabbling for Tristan’s door. Right as she grasped the knob, the door flew open, and he bolted out.

  “Get down,” she said, biting her lip as he tumbled over her and flattened them both in the narrow hallway. “Stay down, buddy. Grinnie!”

  “In here,” Grinnie called from the kitchen at the back of the house. “I was making cocoa. Are you okay, honey? That sounded like next door. I hope Louisa is okay. Those boys—”

  A screeching noise outside, followed by the squeal of tires on the corner, came through the thin walls of their home, and Bunny sighed. Grinnie joined them, groaning as she crawled on her arthritic knees, and they stayed put as Bunny dialed 911.

  Given the proximity to their headquarters, it wasn’t long before sheriff’s deputies showed up, evidently having received calls from several of the neighbors. By day, their neighborhood was relatively peaceful. Made up of mostly elderly folks, there were a few houses that attracted a more questionable element into the neighborhood. One of Hank’s deputies knocked on their door to check on them. The emergency vehicles were parked next door for a time, their activity and flashing lights making sleep impossible for Bunny. She was just grateful that none of them were ambulances.

  After making sure the doors and windows were locked up tight, and the house was as secure as she could make it, Bunny took a hot bath to help her relax and then sat down on the edge of her bed.

  Joseph’s gift sat there, tempting her. Was it a gift?

  Biting her lip, she removed the wrappings and looked at the tastefully designed book cover.

  His gift was authored by a Dom and sub couple, written in a journal form. The Dom had directed his sub to write a journal entry after each night they played, to share with him, and unbeknownst to his sub, he did the same. At the end of their first year together, the Dom allowed her to see his journal. Their journey and their shared perspectives dovetailed together so beautifully they’d evidently decided to publish a book based on them for the Dominance and submission community.

  Her heart pounded while reading some of the sub’s journal entries, a little surprised at how well she could relate to the woman and taken by surprise at the vulnerabilities her Dom allowed to show. So they aren’t super-perfect, know-it-all mind readers after all?

  Figuring she might as well go “whole hog,” she retrieved the other two books Violet had sold her and looked through those as well. The moon was hanging low in the sky when she finally yawned and turned out her lamp.

  Chapter Five

  The following morning, Joseph closed his office door to assure their privacy and returned to his desk as he contemplated the question Bunny had just asked. She’d obviously done her reading and had confessed to curiosity
that clearly disturbed her. She stood before him, dressed in her standard work clothes—jeans, cotton shirt, boots, tousled red hair restrained in a loose braid and a pair of leather gloves hanging out of a pocket. Her cheeks were as rosy as her lips, and questions filled her eyes. He’d never wanted a woman so much.

  “Not only would I like to put you over my knee and spank you—and enjoy your whimpering and screaming—Miss Carrigan, I’d happily tie you up and fuck you into next week, if you were brave enough to submit to me.” He sat back down as he waited for her reaction.

  “You—you—you—”

  Bunny’s beautiful face transformed as she sputtered, her cheeks turning a shade that nearly matched her bright red hair. Joseph gritted his teeth as he watched, but not from anger or frustration. The lust-spiked urge to do exactly as he’d described was strong, and gritting his teeth was the only way he could quell it.

  “Son of a bitch?” he provided, enjoying having her on edge immensely.

  She let out a gasp. “Well, no.” She ran her fingertips into her red hair, further disheveling her braid. “I wasn’t going to say that. I didn’t get much sleep last night. Maybe I’m just…” Normally he enjoyed watching subs struggle with their fears and denial but her momentary vulnerability drew him right back out of his seat.

  He leaned against the front of his desk, and held out his hand, indicating the seat in front of him. He was pleased when she came without question or argument. “Can we agree to one thing?”

  “I’m not a pushover or a doormat. We can agree on that much for damn sure.”

  Delighting in her attempts to shore up her defenses, he said, “I’m not interested in a pushover or a doormat. And I don’t think you are either of those things, or any of a number of other insulting names you’ve mistakenly attributed to Dominance and submission. I’m willing to assuage your curiosity, but you and I must agree on something else as well.”

  He’d slept on their conversation and thought he’d found a way to introduce her to the world of Dominance and submission that was less threatening to her, but there had to be an agreement between them, regardless of where she went with the knowledge he wanted to give her, or with whom.

  She looked up at him with guileless turquoise eyes, like an open book, leaning forward in her chair, feet flat on the floor, and her hands gripping her knees because she didn’t know what else to do with them. “What?”

  “Honesty between us. No pretending to be submissive, averting your eyes, or kneeling—if it’s not a heartfelt gesture.”

  “What about your other submissive? I know I don’t know much about this stuff, but I can tell she’d gladly let you do anything to her that you wanted.”

  He let out a sigh, knowing she deserved an explanation. And he really needed to have a talk with Jade about her habit of interrupting him at inopportune times. “You’ll recall I told you she is not my submissive. Jade is a special case. Submissives are not one-size-fits-all.”

  Her dark brows rose. “That’s good because I’m sure I outweigh her by…like a ton.”

  Joseph smiled. “I would relish the chance to work with you on your body image issue, among others, fiammetta.” You are perfect just as you are. “And, no, you are nothing like Jade. I am helping Jade to find the right Dominant for her, in a situation that fulfills her needs. I would enjoy doing the same for you.” Equivocator. You want her submission for yourself.

  “But my life is…good the way it is. I’m not seeking a complicated social life, and all of…this…seems very complicated.”

  He took the seat beside her and held out his hand, palm up. She looked at his hand as if she expected a snake to be curled up there before placing her hand in his. Her hands and fingers were delicate, but the muscles girding them were strong.

  “When I invited you in here, it was just to have a conversation. I don’t have a contract for you to sign, and I’m not in a position to discuss your limits. It can be as complicated or as simple as we make it. Some submissives want to give over complete control to their Masters, allowing them to make decisions about everything down to what they eat and what they wear. They are submissive literally twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.”

  “I read about that,” she muttered.

  “That’s not you.”

  “No shit,” she said and then bit her lip, glancing up at him through her lashes.

  “Watch your mouth.” The mischief in her eyes delighted him as she contemplated her response, but he wanted to move forward before she had to get back to work. “And there are other submissives who need to give over control only under certain settings, such as here at the club or at home in their bedrooms or play rooms. It’s a purely sexual game to them, and their Dominant partners feel the same. And then there are all the others, filling the broad spectrum of Dominance and submission and BDSM. They know what it is they like, and in mutual agreement, that is what they do. But any successful relationship has one element at its core.”

  “Honesty,” she supplied, with a catch in her voice.

  “Yes.”

  “I have a lot of preconceived notions to overcome, I guess.”

  Joseph squeezed her hand gently. “I confess it’s the same for me. I had my own set of qualifications a sub needed to meet in order for me to feel fulfilled as a Dom.”

  “I’m none of those things, am I?” she asked, and the flush left her cheeks. The little sass-pot thought she didn’t have what it took to hold his interest.

  “No, and maybe that’s a good thing. That’s an honest answer.”

  “Won’t your other submissives be jealous of an outsider coming in? I’ve heard that quite a few are members of your club.”

  “I am unattached. I wouldn’t engage a submissive if I was.”

  “Engage a submissive. Sounds clinical.”

  If I said pursue, it might frighten you off before you understand. “I don’t intend for it to, Bunny, and clinical is the last thing I feel toward you. So, in answer to your question, do I want to do those things you read about last night to you? Yes, some of them.”

  “But we negotiate that, right?”

  “Right.”

  “So if I say there’s no fucking way in hell we’re trying anal fisting right off the bat, you’ll understand?”

  “I won’t hold the establishment of a hard limit against you, but using that kind of language will get you put over my knee. Like this.”

  The sweetest sound in the world was her screech of surprise when he grabbed her and put her over his knee, red hair flying wild, and delivered three sharp swats to her denim-covered ass.

  She gasped when he helped her back into a sitting position, and she rubbed her ass and looked at the door to make sure they had privacy. “You—you—you—”

  “Watch your mouth, fiammetta. I’ve warned you.”

  “You spanked my butt.”

  “I did, because you are a brat.”

  Frowning, she perched in the chair, and said, “Well, I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say yes to coming to the club this Saturday night. It will give you the chance to see different kinds of play. I can introduce you to some of my friends.”

  He’d offered her the same concession he’d put before Violet Tyler when he’d invited her to the most recent fantasy weekend. The chance for her to safely get her toes wet, to explore her fantasies in a safe setting. It’d worked out well enough that, instead of just dipping her toe in the pool, she’d gone into it with her whole heart and seemed to have wound up the happier for it, with her two men, Josh and Lucas Abbott. Bunny should have the same safe opportunity.

  “More Doms?”

  “Yes, and their subs.”

  “Okay. I’ll visit your chamber of horrors.”

  Feeling utterly wicked, he grinned. “I haven’t invited you to my chamber of horrors, yet.” That innocent, wide-eyed expression of hers was going to be his undoing.

  “But—”

  “Hazelle House is for the enjoyment of exclusive me
mbers. My ‘chamber of horrors,’ as you put it, is my own private space, and I only invite subs there who merit the invitation.”

  Licking her lower lip and gulping as if her throat had suddenly gone dry, Bunny stammered and then said, “I need to get to work. That dish isn’t going to re-align itself.”

  “One other thing,” Joseph said. When she raised her eyebrow in question, he said, “To the best of your ability, please be careful. No taking risks.”

  Bunny rose from the chair, shaking her head. “Already bossing me around, are you?”

  “I’m asking as your friend.”

  Her shoulders relaxed, and she looked down at her feet. “It’s like I told you yesterday. I am always safety conscious. I don’t climb unharnessed, and I observe proper ladder and bucket safety. The heights don’t bother me, but that doesn’t mean I take foolish risks. That’s me being honest with you…Sir. I have a family to think of, and they need me.”

  He hid the gasp well, he hoped. The sound of “Sir” coming from her, in that half-sassy and half-obedient tone, shouldn’t have felt so damn good.

  I need you too, fiammetta. More and more.

  * * * *

  Bunny trotted down the hallway in the north wing of Hazelle House, where Joseph’s suite was located. The satellite dish for his personal entertainment center had been installed on one of the chimneys on the far end of the house so it wasn’t noticeable from any of the outdoor public areas of the mansion.

  She totally understood why he’d wanted it that way, to preserve the aesthetics of the mansion, but working on the thing was a bit of a challenge. She had her climbing gear draped over her shoulder, and Hughes was meeting her upstairs with the key. Her bucket truck wouldn’t reach that high, so she had to rappel down to the dish. From there, she’d lower herself to her bucket and continue on with the other satellite dish.

  “Here it is, Ms. Carrigan,” Hughes said as he let her into the suite. He walked across the living room to the balcony door and opened it for her. “Is there no other way for you to do this work? Mr. Hazelle won’t be thrilled to learn you subjected yourself to such hardship on his behalf again.”