by Dakota Trace
Hefting the duffle higher on his shoulder, Jude nodded in satisfaction as he spotted two of his plain-clothes guards stationed with a full view of the front of Olivia’s building. It was late afternoon and after putting things in order at the office so he would be free for an indefinite amount of time, he’d finally been able to head over to relieve Rena. He watched as Jackson rounded the corner to park the car in the underground garage. He was giving Rena a lift home since she’d ridden in the cab with Olivia.
Giving the men a sharp salute, he ran up the steps of the building that housed Olivia’s condo. Using the key she’d given him earlier, he let himself through the locked security door. At the desk, an older uniformed man looked up from the paper he’d been reading. His face lost its color before he nervously ran his fingers through his thinning blond hair.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Larson.” The man’s face broke into a sweat.
Good, serves the bastard right. It was his guard who fell asleep on the job last night. Jude had absolutely no sympathy for the man. He’d didn’t deserve it.
“Mr. Samson, why am I not surprised to see you manning the desk after last night’s fiasco? I’m glad you’re taking Mr. Levough’s advice to heart.”
The man swallowed and nodded. Jude wished he’d been a fly on the wall this morning when Jackson had stormed into the condo complex and reamed the co-op’s hired security a new ass. If he hadn’t been so concerned about Olivia’s welfare, he’d have been right at Jackson’s side. He had a feeling at the next meeting the security company for the building would be changing hands if Mistress had anything to say about it.
“Ms. Metjka arrived at nine a.m. and hasn’t left since. Although your man…er…I mean… woman… Ms. McAllister has checked in every hour with me.” The man’s nose wrinkled.
Jude narrowed his eyes. “Do you have a problem with my choice of protection for Ms. Metjka?”
The man shifted under his stare but boldly met Jude’s eyes. “I’ve been in the security business for nearly twenty years and well, you have to admit the woman is an unusual choice…she looks like a thrift shop reject. She may be qualified but her attire shows lack of respect for the office.”
Jude stared at the man in disbelief. Does he honestly think being a bodyguard is the same as manning a desk at hotel? Or is he confusing it with a public office? He clearly remembered what Rena had been wearing earlier at the hospital. The threadbare white-washed jeans with rips had exposed part of her dark thighs to the gaze while her tight top accented her ample bust. The fact that it was dark black with bright splashes of colors had had Jackson’s eyes riveted to it. Well, it may not have been just the colors. If Jackson had stared any harder, his tongue would’ve been dragging on the floor.
“Ah, but she’s a bodyguard who’s guarding the infamous Mistress Olivia. What did you expect me have her wear, Samson? A suit? She’d stick out like a sore thumb next to Olivia’s dark attire. Could you honestly see her accompanying a practicing Mistress to her club wearing a Brooks Brothers suit?” He shook his head and held up a hand when the man looked like he was going to protest. “No. Her clothing choice is quite appropriate. When she goes out in public with Olivia, most will assume she’s a friend or part of the BDSM scene.” He leaned over the counter and picked up the visitor log. Quickly scanning it, he dropped it back on the desk, before continuing. “After all, everyone knows my client doesn’t associate with anyone outside of her club.”
He straightened. “But I’ll make sure I tell Rena you think that she’s an “unusual” choice when I go up to relieve her. I’ll even mention you think she should be dressed in a suit. Not sure how she’ll take it but that’s your problem. I’m sure Jackson informed you of the third degree black belt she holds? Maybe if you ask nicely, she’ll show it to you….although the last time some fool did, I heard she put him in traction for a month.”
Mr. Samson’s face flushed and horror had his mouth dropping open. Jude turned and barely suppressed his laugh as he headed to the elevator. Fucking fool - always judging a book by its cover. It’d serve his ass right if Rena did come down and kick it.
* * * *
Knocking softly on the door, Jude unlocked it. He called out as he entered the small entryway.
“Hello? Mistress Olivia? Rena?” After leaving the door unlocked for Jackson, but putting the by-pass code in the security system to reset it, Jude followed the sound of feminine voices. Wandering through the cozy living room and down a darkened hall, he found them in the master bedroom. His jaw clenched as he took in the décor. The light grayish-blue walls were cool and inviting – instantly easing his tension. The deep maroon accents caught his eye but what held it was the highly polished silver metal queen sized bed Olivia was sprawled across.
She was propped against the ornate headboard with a mountain of satin pillows, her casted hand elevated by even more satin encased pillows. He’d never seen so many pillows in his life. Even with the disgruntled look on her face, the scene was tempting beyond belief. His mouth dried. He could easily imagine himself being bound to the headboard she was leaning against while his Mistress bounced on his cock and told him he could not come until she allowed it. Or having her spread beneath him, demanding – no ordering — him to lick her clit and finger her until she came for him. Predictably his dick hardened. Ignoring the painful throb of sensitive flesh against his zipper, he dropped his duffle on the small settee next to the door.
At the sound, Rena jerked as her hand went to the ankle holster. When she saw it was Jude, she glared at him.
“That’s a good way to get your ass shot, Mr. Larson.” Sitting next to his Mistress, Rena slowly relaxed.
He shrugged with a nonchalance he didn’t feel. “I yelled when I came in.”
Olivia gave a resigned sigh and closed her eyes as if praying for patience. “Evidently not loud enough, pet.” She opened them and shot Rena a sharp look. “Put the gun away, Rena. I told you before I was uncomfortable with the idea of it being in my home. I’d be even more upset if you accidently shoot my slave - before I even have time to break him in.”
Jude’s mouth dried and his cock jerked. His knees weakened and it was all he could do to stay upright. It won’t do a damn thing for my image as a boss if I fall to my knees and beg Olivia to ‘break’ me in right here and now.
Rena laughed softly at Olivia’s words. “So I’ve heard.” She turned to look at him. “Who’d have thought my big bad boss was a submissive? Welcome to the club.” She smiled at Jude as she pushed her tall well-built body off the bed.
Aware Olivia was watching him for his reaction, he gave a small but hesitant smile. He refused to look at his Mistress but vaguely wondered if she was expecting him to protest her claim. After admitting it to Brandon, he was becoming more comfortable with the idea but was still too nervous to actually met Olivia’s eyes. Instead he focused on Rena, “Dear Lord in heaven, woman, don’t let Jackson find out.”
She laughed outright at his response, her braids bouncing. “Or what? He’ll try to take me over his knee? I’m too big of a girl for him to accomplish that task. ”
“I wouldn’t bet on it, Rena. Once he finds out, your days of playing the field will be numbered.”
Rena huffed, her arms crossing over her chest. “Like hell! I decide who I submit to and your playboy of a partner isn’t going to be the one.”
Jude smiled. “Keep telling yourself that if you want.” He moved further into the room. “But I know my friend and if he finds out, you better run like hell or you’ll end up chained to his bed.”
“If I find out what?” Jackson’s form appeared in the bedroom door behind him.
The man’s eyes glittered with what could be either humor or desire. Jude wasn’t able to tell which at the moment. Fuck, how much did he hear? As the man stepped further into the room without bee-lining it to Rena, Jude decided he couldn’t have heard her admit to being submissive. If he had, Jackson would’ve had her tossed over his shoulder and carted her off before she
could do more than protest.
Rena glared at Jude. “You better keep your mouth shut, boss, or I’ll show you why I have a black belt.”
Jude laughed outright, loving the sass of his newest employee, relaxed now that he realized Jackson hadn’t heard. He couldn’t stop himself from teasing the woman though. “What, that you…”
When she moved threateningly from the bed, he held his hands up. “…are going to kick Samson’s ass for insulting your outfit?”
“That cracker better have not insulted my clothing.” Rena’s eyes flashed and she headed towards the door. Jude’s relief was short-lived when Jackson moved to intercept Rena.
He had just enough time to see his partner’s eyes narrow thoughtfully before the man slipping around him to corner Rena. “Now, you’re not threatening Jude, are you, darlin’?”
Rena’s breath came faster as Jackson invaded her personal space. “White boy, I’m gonna fuck you up if you don’t back the hell off.”
“I’d like to see you try. It might be fun.” Jackson leaned closer to the black woman. “Just realize when I take you down, you’re gonna find yourself draped over my lap with me warming this succulent ass.” His hand brushed over the lush curve as he crowded her up against the wall. “But then again, I have a feeling you’d like that. What do you say? Want to go back to my place? I have a brand new crop I’d love to break in. Wanna help?”
Jude’s eyes caught Olivia’s helplessly as Rena’s hands came up to push against Jackson’s chest. Even from across the room he could see the tremble in them. Help her. He mouthed the words hoping Olivia would understand. It wasn’t my intention to get Rena into this particular predicament. His Mistress gave him a ‘you owe me’ look before intervening.
“Jackson, leave the woman alone. I have a bone to pick with you about these damn restrictions you’ve come up with!”
Jackson looked over his shoulder, Olivia’s complaint successfully distracting him from the trembling woman in front of him. “There’s no discussion to be had. They stay.”
Rena used his distraction to slip under his arm and flee the room. The sound of the front door slamming had Jackson swinging around. He gave a low curse. “The little witch.” He glanced at Olivia. “That wasn’t nice of you, Baroness. Now, I’m going to have to chase her down.”
Olivia smirked. “Like you won’t enjoy the chase.”
Jackson’s eyes crinkled. “Well, I never claimed I wouldn’t.”
When he moved to follow Rena, Jude grabbed his arm. “Don’t do anything stupid, Jackson. We need her to be on board until this attacker is caught. You go pissing her off, and she might just quit.”
The humor fled Jackson’s eyes before his nostrils flared. It was replaced by determination. “Like hell she will. We have a contract! I’ll paddle her ass if she tries to break it.” Jackson stormed out of the bedroom.
A moment later Jude heard the door open and shut firmly once more. He closed his eyes. “God give me the patience to deal with those two.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose, before opening his eyes. “You know I think God’s got a sick sense of humor.”
Tipping her head back against the pillows, Olivia yawned. “Why’s that, pet?”
Jude’s inner sub perked up at the endearment and his heart melted. God, I love when she calls me that. He sat down on the edge of the bed. When she didn’t ask him what he was doing, he released a sigh of relief. He gave her a crooked grin.
“Well, what would you call having to deal with a Dominant white boy from New Orleans and a submissive black woman from the Bronx who can’t get along - let alone work together - during the middle of a protection detail?”
Olivia laughed softly. “Trial by fire?”
* * * *
Jackson caught up with Rena as she stormed out of the lobby. She was just getting ready to hail a cab when he grabbed her from behind. Yanking her back against his body, he wrapped his arms around her and didn’t give a second thought about how it might look to passersby.
“Let go of me, you dominating asshole.” She spat the words at him as if they were an insult.
He chuckled. “Am I supposed to be wounded, chér?”
She squirmed but to Jackson, the feel of her ass rubbing against his cock had predictable results. His blood surged south - he was rock hard within seconds. He thought he heard her mumble something about ‘damned horny Dominants who couldn’t control themselves’ before she stilled. A low growl built in his throat. I’ll show her control. I’ll drive her right out of hers while I hang onto mine. His hand slid under her dark tee and caressed her satiny belly.
She gave a disgruntled sigh. “Like anything I say is gonna wound that damned over-inflated ego of yours. Now, let me go. I’m not a damn toy you can grab at will!”
Jackson’s lips brushed her ear before he nipped it with his teeth. “Are you sure about that, sweet?”
She stomped on his foot and kicked back at him even as a soft moan escaped her. “Yes!”
He grunted and his open palm smacked her hip. “Bad, Rena! Don’t you know what happens to bad little subbies who taunt an experienced Dom?” His tongue rasped over her earlobe before trailing down her neck.
“Get bent.” She croaked.
He squeezed her hip. “Now that’s not very nice. Your last Master must’ve been neglectful with your training.” He brushed his lips back up her neck before spinning her around. “But rest assured, I won’t be.” He hauled her close enough to cover her surprised mouth with his. Tangling his tongue with hers, he dominated the kiss by burying one hand in her braids to hold her still. Exploring the spicy taste of her mouth, he groaned when he heard whistles. In his need to dominate the tempting minx in his arms, he’d totally forgotten they were standing in the middle of a busy public sidewalk. Good going, Levough! That’s showing her your control-Not! Lifting his mouth, he licked her bottom lip, needing one more taste before he released her.
Satisfaction filled him as he took in her appearance. Rena’s eyes were glazed with desire and her hands clung to his shoulders. As he stepped back, he steadied her. When the sharpness returned to her gaze, he braced himself and she didn’t disappoint him. He barely was able to catch her hand before it connected with his cheek.
He gave her a stern look. “Now, none of that, sub.”
“I’m not…” She opened her mouth to protest but he stopped her.
“Don’t even try to lie to me.” His mouth thinned out. “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t know you’re submissive? Cher, I knew from the first time you lowered your eyes in respect.” He cupped her cheek. “Only a truly submissive woman does that.”
Her gaze darted away from his. “It doesn’t matter if you know or not. I’m not looking for a new Master – especially one who’s had his dick in every sub who offers.” She jerked away from him and rushed down the street towards the subway.
Standing in the late afternoon sun, Jackson scowled before sighing. “Well, you fucked that up but good, Levough.” He watched as she disappeared into the subway entrance. “Go ahead and run, cher, but it won’t matter in the end. You’re going to be mine.” Licking his lips, he groaned when he tasted her lingering flavor. Fuck, it was going to be a long lonely night.
* * * *
“No, I’m not taking them.” Olivia’s determined but pain-filled eyes glared up at him holding a glass of water and two small white pills.
“Come on, Mistress. You’re in pain. The doctor prescribed them to help you rest. You’re not going to get better if you can’t sleep. Please?” He gave her his most charming smile – the one Jackson claimed could charm the panties off the Virgin Mary.
Her lips thinned and brackets of pain could be clearly seen at the corners of her mouth. “No.” Still surrounded by pillows, she looked like a queen on her throne. She gave him a disdaining look which gave him the impression that to her he was nothing more than a lowly court jester at the moment – one she didn’t find the least bit amusing.
He sank down on the bed ne
xt to her and took the tray filled with remnants of the light supper he’d fixed for her. He’d been tickled when she’d said she liked his daughter’s favorite. Grilled cheese and tomato soup – a meal he knew how to make. He wasn’t so tickled now though. She needs to take these and Mistress or no Mistress, she’s gonna. Trying for patience wasn’t his long suit. Maybe logic would work. If not he always could resort to brute physical force.
“Why not, Mistress? Don’t you realize it bothers me to see you in pain? And you can’t sleep if your wrist is aching all night. Come on. For me?”
Her expression softened a bit and he thought he had her. He wasn’t above using the guilt card to get his way.
“Foolish pet.” Her tone was loving, but her expression was mocking. “Better than you have tried to get me to take meds. I don’t like the way the pain pills make me feel.” She patted his thigh. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll take them if it gets too much for me to bear – but I’m not at that point yet.” She rolled away from him, presenting him with her back. “Why don’t you go watch some television, pet? I’m going to try to get some sleep.”
She’d dismissed him that easily. As if he would let the muffled curse that escaped her when she bumped her cast against the headboard go unaddressed. His mistress was in pain and her flat refusal to take her pain meds was stupid. Instead of arguing with her, he turned and left the room. One way or the other, he’d convince her to take them.
Chapter Nine
Later that night, lying on Olivia’s couch, Jude punched at his pillow. Even though the plush couch was the height of comfort, it felt like rocks under his sensitive skin. Finally he rolled to a sitting position. He should be tired after his almost sleepless night with Olivia in the hospital but he was wired. I can’t get away from it! Her scent is all over my hands and she told me I couldn’t wash them until morning. Damned if she didn’t pick a perfect punishment. Hell, I’m never gonna get to sleep at this rate. In the loose drawstring shorts he wore, his cock was resting against his abs, its length steely hard and head wet with drops of seed. His body ached for relief but he couldn’t find release without her presence. And he couldn’t go to her to beg for release.