Love and Let Die mam-5

by Lexi Blake

She had just taken another one of those liberties Ian tended to object to. Sinking to her knees, she decided to play it safe. She let her head fall forward, her hair brushing the ground as she placed her palms up.

  “Now you choose to obey me.” Ian’s boots came into view. God, even his boots were sexy. They weren’t polished or new. They were lived in, with little creases here and there. “Charlie, I want to know what just happened.”

  She brought her eyes up. “I just took out the trash, Sir.”

  He was so serious for a moment that she worried she might join Amanda on the outside looking in. And then his head fell back and he laughed. “God, I’ve been waiting for the subs to toss her on her ass. I should have known you would be the one to do it. Derek, this is my…” he sighed before continuing. “This is my submissive, Charlotte. She’s also a pain in my ass.”

  “All the good ones are,” Derek said.

  “Come on then.” Ian held a hand out, helping her up. “I need a drink. Finish up in the locker room and meet us in the bar.”

  He turned and walked away, but she could tell by the way his head shook that he was still laughing a little.

  That went better than expected.

  “So have you really taken apart a body using acid?” Serena asked. “Because I would like to interview you about that. How much did you have to use? How messy does it get?”

  God save her from writers. Charlie followed Eve back in to get ready for the evening.

  * * * *

  Ian stared out at the dungeon, trying not to think about the sub at his side. Trying not to think about just how right it felt to have her there. From his seat in the back of the bar, he could see everything that was happening, but they were far away enough that their conversation wouldn’t interrupt the scenes. “Should I assign a Dom to your sister or is she all right negotiating for herself?”

  He’d been surprised at how comfortable the little sister was in the dungeon. He’d kind of expected tears and recriminations from the girl. He’d expected to have her hole up in the locker room or the conference room, but all she’d requested was something that covered her legs. He’d found some PVC leggings and she’d turned and walked away from him without another word.

  “Chelsea?” Charlie asked from her place on the floor. She was sitting on one of the large fluffy pillows many of the Doms used when they had their subs kneel or recline at their feet for long periods of time. From this angle, Ian could see the curves of her breasts, perfectly pushed up by the tight corset. He’d picked green, an emerald color that set off her hair. She wore far too much black. She looked pretty in greens and blues. Vibrant colors, like the woman herself.

  He liked the fact that she was flustered. She’d been an Amazon queen when she’d hauled the mean girl out, but she’d seemed a bit lost ever since. Like she didn’t trust anything he was doing. They had sat and talked with Derek Brighton for a good thirty minutes, or rather he’d talked to Derek while Charlie had sat at his feet and allowed him to feed her little snacks. She’d kept looking up at him like he was about to poison her. It was kind of fun. “Yes, unless you have another sister you haven’t told me about.”

  “It’s not her first time in a dungeon.”

  So they had been playing. That didn’t sit well. “So you were lying about not taking a Dom. It shouldn’t surprise me.”

  Her head shook. “No, I didn’t have a Dom. I promise. I haven’t played in years. I just found a couple for Chelsea. Most of the time I hired them to come out to wherever we were living at the time, but a couple of times we were invited to dungeons.”

  “I wouldn’t take her for a sub. If I had to make the determination, just glancing at her I would say she would prefer to top someone.” Chelsea Dennis wasn’t an unattractive woman. She was actually quite lovely, but she didn’t smile. There was a tightness to the way she held herself that let Ian know she wanted to be in control.

  But maybe that wasn’t what she needed. Charlie had the same tightness in her bones all those years ago until that first week they were together. He’d watched as she’d fought to let go, to trust him. When she had, she’d fully let go, giving him everything she had.

  Well, of her body. She’d never really trusted him or they wouldn’t be in this position. Adam was trying to track the known assassins, but they were damn good at their jobs. They had disappeared. There were definitely times Ian wished Dallas had more CCTVs. They would come after her again. The only question was when. He had to sit back and hope one of them took the bait. So far all he’d had was a text from Liam that all was quiet and he’d lost a hundred bucks to Karina while playing poker.

  “I can’t imagine her flicking a whip.” Charlie stared at her. “But she does love the flogger. Actually, I should probably be the one to negotiate. She’s not that great with Doms.”

  Up on the stage, Alex was using a four-foot whip on Eve. He and the whip moved with the grace of long use. The cracking sound the whip made belied what Ian knew was nothing more than a sting along her skin followed by a lovely warmth. Charlie used to love the whip. He’d felt like a real Dom the first time she’d subbed out while he was working on her. He felt like he finally truly understood why he’d been attracted to this life. It wasn’t for the kink or because he wanted the control. It was because when she relaxed, he felt necessary. He felt like something beyond a highly paid piece of cannon fodder.

  He forced himself away from dangerous thoughts.

  “If she wants to find a Dom here, she’s going to have to talk to him herself or I’ll assign one. So she uses it as therapy? The endorphins help with the pain from her leg?” Ian asked, looking back at Chelsea.

  “Yeah. She resisted at first, but after she tried it, she really saw a difference. It helps her in a way massage doesn’t.”

  “Hidden sub?” Ian asked thoughtfully.

  “I think so. I think Chelsea would be much happier if she could let go, but I doubt my sister ever will. She spent too many years without any control. She was very young when my father took us to Russia. She was barely nine. I know she remembers our mom but not like I do. My mom was wonderful. I worry Chelsea didn’t get enough of her.”

  “I’m surprised she speaks English without an accent.” It occurred to him that he didn’t just have to worry about Charlie. He had to figure Chelsea out, too. Charlie had given up a lot for her sister.

  “I made sure she kept up her English. When we were alone, we always spoke in English. We both speak fluent Russian though, and you wouldn’t be able to tell us from native speakers when we get going. My father hated the fact that he didn’t have a son, but he wasn’t about to be embarrassed by ignorant daughters. My dad had it in his head that he was a czar. Czar’s kids had tutors. Ours happened to be from LA. He was a really smart man, but he ran afoul of my dad’s gambling organization.”

  “So he paid off his debt by teaching you and Chelsea.”

  “When he wasn’t drunk, he was an excellent tutor,” Charlie admitted.

  He hated to think about her childhood. His father might have walked out on them, but at least he and Sean had their mother. She hadn’t been the strongest woman and Ian had been forced to grow up fast, but she hadn’t left them alone with drunks or tortured them to make them strong.

  The world could torture a man enough. He didn’t need family members to help the process along.

  Chelsea left her spot at the back of the crowd and entered the lounge. She gave a fleeting nod her sister’s way, but seemed to have a goal in mind. She stared at the bar for a moment.

  Simon was sitting on a stool beside Jesse, both men with beers in their hands. Jillian took Simon’s empty mug. She kept a stash of his favorite beer in the back and was soon returning with a pint glass. Jesse had what looked to be a Bud in his hand. Straight out of the can. God, he was going to have to work on that kid’s decorum.

  “This should be interesting,” he murmured, his hand going to Charlie’s hair. He had to keep up the illusion after all. “It looks like little siste
r picked a Dom for the night.”

  Chelsea was walking straight up to Simon. Simon was dressed in leather pants and a vest with no shirt. Most nights he didn’t take a sub, preferring to spend his time in the bar, but a couple of times he’d negotiated with single subs. He seemed to prefer bondage play, where his sub was completely tied down. Simon had completed his ropes course within weeks of joining the team and now he was studying shibari with Alex.

  Ian preferred more extreme play, as Charlie would soon discover.

  “I would like to talk to you, Sir.” Chelsea used all the right words, but there was a brattiness to her tone that made Ian frown. At least Charlie knew how to manipulate him. She’d gone right to her knees when he’d caught her tossing Amanda out on her ass.

  He’d planned to use Amanda to show Charlie that she couldn’t have everything her way. He should have known better. He’d picked Amanda because she was the one most likely to annoy the holy shit out of Charlie. He was a dumbass because he should have picked someone sweet, someone Charlie couldn’t take on.

  Or maybe he’d known what she would do. Maybe it had been there in the back of his head.

  He wasn’t about to tell her that he’d been waiting for someone to make a case to get rid of her. He wasn’t stupid. He’d never really bought Amanda’s act. Sure he’d screwed her a couple of times because she was convenient and amenable, but that didn’t mean he thought she was an angel. The subs needed to stand up for themselves, so he’d backed off. He was kind of with Charlie on that one. He would have tossed her out on her ear the minute she opened her mouth, but Eve and Grace had done the Southern-lady thing.

  Charlie’s head had come up, and she was watching her little sister. Ian gently forced it back to his lap.

  “She’ll be fine.”

  “Do you really think Simon is the right Dom for her?” Charlie asked.

  He wasn’t sure the Brit was right for anyone. Simon was rigid and hid a wealth of self-consciousness under his perfect exterior. Simon had fucked up in the near past, and he wasn’t over it yet. Nope. Simon likely wasn’t right for anyone now. “I think it’s a single encounter and he’ll either handle it or he won’t. Now stop talking. I can’t hear them when you talk.”

  He knew he was being a gossipy old lady, but he kind of wanted to see how Charlie’s sister handled the Brit.

  Simon turned, that aristocratic eyebrow arching. “Yes? Do you need something else? I don’t think those leggings are what I selected for you.”

  Jesse had turned, and it was obvious from the kid’s expression that he was watching As the Dungeon Turns, too. His eyes went from Simon to Chelsea and back again.

  “I got the clothes you gave me, but I requested something different from Master Ian.” She knew all the right things to say, but somehow she put a twist on the polite words to give them a sarcastic edge.

  Simon’s eyes trailed across the bar, finding Ian’s and narrowing. “And he gave them to you?”

  Ian didn’t move a muscle. Chelsea wasn’t wearing a collar and she was Charlie’s sister, so that put her firmly under Ian’s control and protection. But just for the briefest of seconds, he thought Simon might call him out on it. Interesting.

  Simon broke eye contact and went back to his beer. “What do you want?”

  “I’m in need of a session.” There was nothing soft or submissive about the way Chelsea spoke. She could have been walking into a department store and ordering a salesperson to bring her a shirt.

  “Shit,” Charlie said under her breath. “I’ve tried to teach her proper behavior.”

  Ian stroked her hair. “Hush. You can’t save her from this.”

  “Are you asking me to play with you?” Simon asked. Even from where Ian was sitting he could see the cool appraisal in the way Simon looked Chelsea up and down.

  She didn’t have her sister’s height. Chelsea was average, probably five foot six, and she wasn’t some starved supermodel. Ian was sure a crazed bitch like Amanda would likely call Chelsea fat, but Ian just thought she looked healthy. Amanda would be happier if someone fed her. Women got mean when they didn’t eat. Even Eve was much happier now that Alex was stuffing her with chocolates.

  “Not at all,” Chelsea returned with a brisk shake of her head. “I’m asking you to flog me. I would need roughly thirty to forty minutes of your time. I prefer a thump to a sting. I would rather use deerskin falls, and I won’t be tied down.”

  Ian groaned a little. Most subs knew not to sound like they were ordering a burger at a fast-food place.

  Charlie was trying to see again. “I told you. I need to do the negotiating. She’s not good at this. She’s been in front of that computer so long she’s forgotten how to deal with actual human beings.”

  “Get up here.” It was useless to not let her watch. She would wiggle and twist and probably get a crick in her neck. It was easier to pull her into his lap.

  She sat herself right over his cock, and that damn little bit of spandex had already ridden up on her hips so that all that prevented penetration was his leathers. Because his cock knew what it wanted. It had been hard since the moment she’d dropped to her knees. Hell, he’d gotten aroused watching her haul Amanda out on her ass. If he didn’t have his leathers on, he knew damn well his cock would be trying hard to work its way inside her. He could let her sit on his cock and watch the world go by.

  “Really?” Simon was asking, his voice low and sarcastic. “You have a list of demands for me, sub?”

  Chelsea shrugged a little. “No. I assumed you were intelligent enough to remember what I wanted.”

  Charlie buried her head in Ian’s shoulder. “I don’t want to see it.”

  But Ian totally did. Fuck, he kind of lived for this shit. It was sad, but he accepted it. He was a voyeur in all things. He liked to watch people fuck when they did it well, and he sure liked to watch people fuck up. It was funny.

  Simon stood, towering over Chelsea. “What did you say, sub?”

  Chelsea seemed caught on the big Brit’s chest, her eyes staring at the place where his leather vest parted and showed off skin. “I was simply trying to explain what I need, Sir.”

  “That’s so not going to work,” Ian said.

  Charlie was looking again, her face hopeful. “Maybe she can pull it off.”

  He grinned because there was no fucking way. “Wanna bet?”

  Charlie shook her head and ducked in again. “No. I would lose.”

  Simon brought his hand to Chelsea’s chin, forcing her to look up at his face, but there was a stubborn set to her eyes.

  “No, Chels, come on. Soften up,” Charlie was saying.

  “Nah, she’s about to commit assault and brattery on him. We should call Derek back,” Ian said.

  Charlie made a vomiting sound. “That’s awful.”

  It was. He was full of bad puns, but they almost never came out.

  If he were sitting here with Grace or Eve, they would have already pointed out how rude it was to intrude on Simon and Chelsea’s conversation by listening in. Avery would already have begged him to intervene because her tender heart couldn’t stand conflict. Serena would be taking notes. Only Charlie was in the moment with him. Only she understood that the dramas playing out around them might not be meant for their entertainment, but damn they were fun to watch. Other subs would just sit quietly and would likely have laughed at his terrible joke, never calling him on his bad sense of humor. Not Charlie.

  Why did the one woman he was comfortable with have to turn out to be the enemy?

  “Maybe I have a few demands of my own,” Simon said.

  Chelsea’s shoulders squared. “Fine. I’m willing to listen.”

  “I’ll use the deerskin flogger. I have a very nice one I’ve been wanting to break in. Thud not sting, though I think you might like a little sting if you tried it. You will be naked and tied down.”

  “She won’t do it,” Charlie whispered. “She was tied down when she had her legs broken. She can’t stand it.�
�

  “All the more reason for her to face it with someone she trusts,” Ian replied. “I don’t think that’s going to be Simon.”

  Chelsea’s jaw clenched, and she took a moment to reply. “Loose bindings, I keep my clothes.”

  He looked down, and Charlie’s eyes had gone wide. Looked like Chelsea had a thing for Simon.

  The Brit ran his fingertips from her neck to the collar of the tank top Chelsea was wearing. “I’ll give on the bindings, but no clothes.”

  Ah, the Brit wanted to see some skin.

  “Why? Do you want to see the cripple naked?” Chelsea asked, her voice hard.

  “Ouch.” Charlie flinched.

  “Yeah, that will get her in serious trouble,” Ian allowed. Self-mockery was brutally unappealing. He would rather be around a plain woman who thought she was beautiful than a beautiful one who complained she was plain.

  “No. I want to see you naked, and if you keep talking like that it’s not a flogging you’ll get, it’s a spanking, and I promise you it will sting.” Every word out of his mouth was clipped and angry.

  A long moment passed where they seemed connected. Maybe he’d been wrong about Simon not being ready. The big Dom was looking down at the computer-geek cutie like he could eat her alive.

  Chelsea, for her part, seemed determined to prove she didn’t need to breathe.

  Finally, she took a step back and turned to Jesse. “How about you?”

  Simon stepped into her line of sight. “No.”

  “What do you mean no? He can’t speak for himself?”

  “Not if he wants to live he won’t.”

  Jesse wisely kept his mouth shut.

  “So if I don’t do what you want, I don’t get a Dom?” Chelsea’s hands went to her hips.

  Simon shook his head. “You don’t get him no matter what you do, love. He’s in training. If you want to get what you need, you’ll negotiate. I’m willing to give up one of my usual demands.”

  “And I was willing to allow you to tie me down,” she shot back. “You have no idea how hard that would be for me.”

  “Then I’ll make it easy on you. All you have to do is take off what little clothes you’re wearing and I’ll take care of you. No bindings. Everything else your way.”