Conquering Jude

by Dakota Trace

  Opening his eyes, he saw his partner sitting in an identical chair on the opposite side of Olivia’s hospital bed. Rubbing a hand over his gritty eyes, he tried to shake the cobwebs. What time is it and why the hell did Olivia let me doze off? I told her when they brought in breakfast for her to not let me fall asleep before Jackson got here.

  “Here.” The tantalizing aroma of coffee filled his nose as the warmth of cardboard cup was pressed into his hand. Automatically, he wrapped his hand around it. Lifting it his mouth, he nearly burnt his lips when Olivia’s gaze caught his. The stark need in her eyes had his heart racing. When her gaze settled on the cup in his hand, he lowered it. The doctors had refused to let her have more than one cup with her breakfast. His need to please her won out over his own body’s need for the stimulant. God, I’m sick.

  “Mistress?” His voice sounded like sandpaper to his own ears even as he asked for her decision with that one word. Was the coffee his or hers? Because he’d give it to her if she asked and to hell with his body.

  “Don’t you dare give her that coffee, Larson. I’ll kick your ass. Olivia jacked up on caffeine isn’t a pleasant prospect and we’re going to have our hands full with her as it is…”

  To his foggy brain the idea of having Olivia in his hands sounded like heaven. He was anxious to explore her little body. If the woman ever lets me but then again IF I’m supposed to be guarding her body… perhaps?

  “…once she finds out the restrictions we’ll be placing on her.” The rest of Jackson’s sentence permeated Jude’s lust fogged brain.

  “Go ahead. I’ll get a cup later, pet.” Her eyes softened. The look fled quickly as she refocused on Jackson. “Restrictions? I think not!” Olivia’s tone hardened. “I don’t need a babysitter, Jackson.”

  “We’ve went over this the last time you were attacked, Baroness. Either you have a bodyguard, or you don’t go out.”

  Jude braced his head on one hand as he continued to sip at the steaming liquid. As the coffee did its job, it was easy to tell Olivia was pissed at the idea. If she’d been a cartoon character, steam would’ve been coming out of her ears, he thought. “Where are you planning on going, Mistress?”

  Her lower lip stuck out and she crossed her arms over her chest – carefully cradling the cast encased one. “It doesn’t matter where I go. I’m not taking a bodyguard with me. I’m a big girl.” She glared at Jackson. “Am I correct in assuming you had a man out at my home this morning changing the locks, security codes and such?”

  “Of course. It’s our standard operating procedure when there’s a successful breach of the premises…but it still doesn’t change the fact I’m assigning you a bodyguard. This is serious, Olivia. We still haven’t figured out how your attacker got into your home without tripping the alarm. Besides, if whoever is behind these attacks is willing to break into your private home, then I can guarantee whatever their ulterior motive is – it’s personal.”

  She shook her head and kicked out with her foot at the railing of the bed. “No. I’m not having a complete stranger in my condo. I’ve already agreed to let you take care of things at the club until I’m back on my feet. That’s going to have to suffice. I’m not going to be a prisoner in my own home with a man I don’t even know.”

  Jackson gave her an evil grin. “Go ahead, throw your tantrum, Baroness. Either way it isn’t going to matter in the end. If you fight me on this, I’ll just call Dad in. In fact, he’s just coming off a cruise with Mom from the western Caribbean and Jamaica. I’m sure he’d love to come see you.”

  Jude’s eyes widened and he swore under his breath as Olivia reached for the Kleenex box next to her. When she winced at the pull her movement caused to her casted hand, he caught her arm with a gentle hand. She was honestly going to try to throw it at him. Stubborn woman. He shook his head when she glared at him. With his free hand, he chucked the box at Jackson for her. The man grunted obligingly as it hit him squarely in the chest.

  “Thank you, pet.” Her eyes narrowed. “But next time I’ll do it myself. Do you understand? I’m not made out of porcelain.”

  Jude met her eyes. “As long as you’re not in pain, Mistress, I’ll let you.”

  She scowled at him. “Exactly who do you think is going to be the dominant in this relationship, Jude? Because that sounded suspiciously like an order to me.”

  Uh-oh, you had to go and poke the sleeping Domme, Larson. Dumbass! He mentally girdled himself. It was time to lay down a few rules that he, in good conscious, couldn’t do without. “You may yet decide to be my Mistress, Olivia, but I won’t let you put your personal safety in jeopardy. I’m a protector along with being submissive. It’s up to you to decide if you can handle both parts of me.” He stood. Leaning down, he did something later he’d wonder if he’d lost his mind over.

  He covered her protesting lips with his own. He needed one taste of her even if it proved to be the only taste he got. Brushing his lips, once, twice over hers, he took advantage of the small opening her gasp created. Running his tongue over the wet inner curves of her lips, a jolt of intense pleasure struck him. Tangling his tongue with hers, he swallowed what he was sure was going to be a royal ass chewing for his audacity. Rubbing against the wet velvet heat of her tongue, his own followed hers back into the moist heat of her mouth. Savoring her taste as if it were the last time he’d be indulged, he moaned low in his throat. God, if it is, I’ll die a happy man.

  When her tongue darted back out to follow Jude’s into his mouth, he ripped his mouth away from hers, his breathing ragged and his cock on fire. Every inch of his body was aching to do something about the steel-hard erection, but his Mistress was hurt and in no shape to deal with the horny bastard he was at the moment.

  Resting his forehead against hers, he drew a ragged breath, enjoying the scent of Euphoria under the sharp bite of antiseptic. “Damn, Mistress, if you don’t taste good…” At his hip, he heard the familiar tune of Drive...his daughter’s ringtone. “Damn…sorry Mistress, my baby calls.” He turned and stalked from the room, his phone at his ear, leaving a stunned Olivia gaping after him and Jackson chuckling.

  * * * *

  “Well you better get used to that, Olivia. Jude puts his daughter before everything.” Jackson scooted closer to the bed.

  Olivia blanched. Her voice was weak. “He has a daughter?”

  Jackson nodded but was quick to reassure her. “And before you freak out, he’s not married to Deborah’s mother.” Jackson leaned forward. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I’m going to. If you mention to Jude you heard it from me, I’ll deny it to the grave. Do you understand?”

  She nodded and leaned closer.

  “Kathleen, Jude’s ex, is one of the reasons for his reluctance to accept his genuine submissiveness. He met her during a Christmas break during our second tour. She was a sweet little thing, all big blue eyes and blonde hair and damned if she didn’t have just enough WASP in her to appeal to Jude’s inner submissive. Hailing from New York, she didn’t have a problem with voicing her opinion. Nor did she seem subservient to any man.”

  Olivia took a deep breath. “Those characteristics would have attracted Jude like flies to honey.”

  “Exactly. Hell, Olivia, she was so different than the girls we grew up around, that he fell for her hard and fast. Before I knew what happened, I came back from an assignment to find them living together. A few short months later, he was on top of the world. He’d just found out Kathleen was pregnant with Deborah. But it didn’t last.”

  “What happened?” Olivia’s voice was strained.

  “Brandon Randall happened. She met him at a fundraiser while Jude and I were in the field. Six months pregnant with Deborah, Kathleen left him to marry Randall. I don’t know all the details, but evidently she is as submissive as Jude is. But having Kathleen leave him wasn’t the worse part of the situation. It was his father. All hell broke loose when he heard. Old Man Larson accused of Jude of not being man enough to hang onto the mother of hi
s child.”

  “What an asshole!” A look of outrage crossed her face as her cheeks flushed. The color drained just as quickly as it’d arrived when the first part of what he said sank in. If Jackson looked closely, he knew he’d be able to see her mind whirling and putting together the recent results of a background check he’d done for her with the information he’d just given her.

  “Are you telling me that my newest member’s slave is Jude’s ex? That he has a five year old daughter by her? That little Debbie Randall is Jude’s daughter?” Horror crossed her face. “She’s the reason he moved north, isn’t she?”

  Jackson nodded. “Yes, and don’t let him hear you call her Debbie Randall. Her name is Deborah Larson and he loves that little girl like nothing else I’ve ever seen.”

  She groaned and tipped her head forward. “I can’t do this.”

  Jackson placed his hand on her arm. “Do what?”

  “Be a Mistress to a man with a five year old daughter. I’ve never even thought of having kids.”

  Jackson gave her a reassuring squeeze. “It’s not like he’s asking you to be a mother to Deborah, Olivia. While he is a full time Dad…or at least as much Kathleen lets him be…”

  “Which is what? Does he go home to her every night?” Aggravation showed on her face. “Did him staying here last night cause issues?”

  “Slow down. Kathleen and Brandon are out town with Deborah for the summer. Touring Italy, I believe. Jude is scheduled to have her for a week before she returns to school. Just realize he’s not asking you to be her mother. She has one already.”

  “Then what am I supposed to do?” Frustration marred her face.

  “Just be understanding when you hear that ring tone. Acknowledge the fact Jude is going to drop everything to answer. It’ll have nothing to do with his devotion to you, but everything to do with his to his daughter. He gave her some kid geared cell phone last year and told her she could call him anytime and he’d answer. He has a huge heart and has more than enough love in it to give to you, his daughter and…” Jackson chuckled. “…heaven forbid any rug-rats you might have together.”

  “Jackson Levough, that’s not funny!” She grabbed one of the empty plastic cups and threw it at him.

  “Sure it is. Little Olivias trying to dominate all the boys at school and Jude having to rescue the poor boys…”

  She glared at him. “He’s not even my slave yet, and here you are seeing delusions of grandeur for us.”

  “Yep. And now that you know about the other girl in his life and won’t go off the deep end…” he gave her the ‘you better not’ look. “…does he stay or do I call Dad?”

  “Excuse me?” Her eyes narrowed. “No one is staying with me.”

  “It’s either Dad or Jude – pick, or I will.” Jackson held his hands up defensively when she reached for the pitcher of water on her tray.

  “I am not having your dad as a bodyguard. I’ll kill him.” She paused. “Did you say Jude?”

  Jackson gave her a mocking look. “Of course! Who the hell else did you think I was going to assign to you? Some random guard from Larson Securities? As if Jude would allow another male near you.” Jackson leaned back against the chair. “So guess what - unless you want Dad camped out on your couch, it’s Jude or me. Personally I’d think you’d jump at the chance to have Jude under foot. You could see to his training…well that’s if you can get him out of protector mode long enough to listen.”

  He gave a yelp when she chucked the half-full pitcher of water at him. The plastic pitcher hit his chest, the cold water soaking his button down shirt before it landed on the floor with a thud. The remaining water spilled out of it and all over his expensive Italian loafers. “God damn it Olivia, you just ruined my shoes! I paid fifteen hundred dollars for these!”

  * * * *

  “I love you too, baby.” Jude smiled at the sweetly high pitched voice of his daughter. She had called to tell him Momma and Daddy Brandon were once more locked in their room and there were funny noises coming from it.

  When he’d asked her why she was calling at two o’clock in the afternoon instead of being in bed taking her nap, she pouted before telling him that she was a big girl and she was too old to take a nap like a silly baby. His five year old daughter was nothing if not precocious. He idly wondered if he’d been the same at that age. “Now give the phone back to Nana.” He paced the hospital hall while waiting for Deborah’s nanny to come on the line.

  While he hadn’t been comfortable with the idea of his daughter having a nanny, he’d quickly realized why, after she’d interrupted his first real date in Chicago by innocently telling the woman that ‘if she was going to kiss her daddy she’d better brush her teeth first because her daddy loved toothpaste kisses the best’. To this day the woman was barely civil to him when their paths did cross.

  “Señor Jude?” The heavily Spanish accented voice of Nana Lupe filtered through the line.

  “Hey, Lupe. I see the rascal found her phone?”

  A weary laugh teased his ear. “Sí, señor. Little Deborah is really good at finding it after I hide it.” Her voice rose as she spoke to Deborah. “You spoke to your papa yesterday, young lady. All good girls are in bed now taking their naps, not harassing their fathers at business time.” He could just see the older Hispanic woman in his mind. She was probably standing in her familiar dark dress with crisp white apron glaring down at his daughter and pointing to the torn-up bed. Deborah would more than likely be barefooted, her dark hair pulled up in a sloppy ponytail and have an adorable pout on her cupid bow lips.

  He heard his daughter’s soft giggling before Lupe’s voice returned. “I’m sorry, Señor Jude. She can be a bit…”

  He spotted a coffee machine and headed towards it. “…of a handful, I know. Don’t worry, she didn’t interrupt anything. I always have time to talk to my little girl. Besides what kind of father would I be if I got mad every time she interrupted me?” He pressed the phone between his ear and shoulder as he dug into his pocket for change. The two swallows of coffee he’d gotten before he’d lost control and kissed Olivia hadn’t been enough.

  “You are very understanding. All little girls should be so lucky to have you for a father, not that Daddy Brandon doesn’t do a good job with her.” She was quick to add, telling him that Brandon must have walked into the room.

  “Is Brandon there?” Jude asked as the coffee began to spurt into the paper cup.

  “Sí.” Her voice was tense. “I’m sorry….”

  “Don’t be. Give Brandon the phone, Lupe.”

  A moment later Brandon came on the phone, his voice relaxed.

  “Jude?”

  “Hey, Brandon, how’s the trip going?”

  “Good.”

  Jude could hear the satisfaction in the man’s voice, but it no longer bothered him as it had after Kathleen had first left him.

  “That’s good. Our little imp decided to reach out and call me to tell me you and Kathleen were making weird noises again.”

  “Oh God!” The groan had Jude smiling. While he was cool with Brandon now, he didn’t mind making the man squirm from time to time. “A man can’t even play with his slave without that little tyrant calling her other daddy to tell him all about it.”

  Jude couldn’t help himself. He started laughing.

  “Just you wait, Jude, your time is coming! One day in the near future you’re going to balls deep in some woman and your daughter is going to call me because there are weird sounds coming from your bedroom.” Brandon’s deep voice laughed with real feeling.

  Jude’s laughter died. The idea of his little girl calling Brandon in the middle of the night because she heard him and Olivia making love was daunting, and he said the first thing that came to mind. “Hell no. If I get that loud, I’ll have Olivia gag me.”

  “Olivia? As in the Mistress at Olivia’s?” The speculation in Brandon’s voice had him freezing and bits of his conversation with Svetlana the night before came back. “…ho
w would you feel if your lover gave you everything you wanted in bed and later denied it…” and he made his decision.

  “Yep. One and the same.”

  There was a pause then instead of the disapproval Jude was expecting he got. “It’s about damn time, you stubborn bastard. She’ll be good for you. Maybe as good as Kathy is for me.”

  Jude nearly dropped the phone. What the fuck?

  Brandon chortled. “You mean I finally said something that made the great Jude Larson speechless?”

  He cleared his throat. “Damn, am I that transparent?”

  Brandon laughed. “Only to those who know you well, Jude. I’m truly happy for you. Olivia seems like a wonderful lady and she’s just the kind of woman to whip you into shape.”

  The emphasis on ‘whip’ had Jude chuckling. “Speaking of which, I’m going to be doubling as her bodyguard.”

  Brandon’s laughter died. “Is everything okay?”

  Jude leaned against the wall. “Olivia is in the hospital with a fractured wrist and I’ve been in here all night with her. I don’t have any details yet about the attack, but I’m thankful you and Kathy took Deborah out of town for awhile. Due to the severity of the assault - until we catch the perpetrator, I’ll breathe easier knowing that she’s with you – especially once they realize I’m protecting Mistress.”

  A low growl echoed over the line. “No one will hurt our daughter, Jude, that can I promise you.”

  Jude gave a sigh. Thank God Kathleen found a strong man to take care of her and Deborah when I’m not around. “Thanks, Brandon.”

  “Don’t mention it. Take care of business and be careful because I’m not going to be the one telling our little girl her daddy got hurt.” The ferocious tone of Brandon’s voice had Jude swallowing.

  “Will do.”

  Chapter Eight