One Cut Deeper

by Joely Sue Burkhart

  He wouldn’t hurt me that way. But someone who was threatening me? Oh yeah. I could totally see it. His voice had been sincere when he’d made that threat. I’d seen the proof in his cold eyes.

  At nine o’clock, my phone rang. My wrist ached and I’d managed to make myself sore, rubbing so hard when I was barely wet. If he expected me to come as quickly as last night, he’d be disappointed. Again. “Hello?”

  “Did you think I wouldn’t call?”

  “I wasn’t sure.”

  “I’m sorry for the way I left our last conversation. I was so upset, I didn’t want to worry you more than I already have.” He paused, listening to my breathing. “You’re so scared you couldn’t come right now if I ordered it.”

  I didn’t say anything because it was true.

  “Did you at least try?”

  “Of course.” My voice was small but it didn’t tremble. “I’ll always try to do what you say.”

  “It’s all right. I’ll help you.”

  I doubted he could make me come after the turmoil tonight, but for him, I was willing to try.

  “Do you still have those lovely bite marks?”

  “Yes, though they’re starting to fade.”

  “Touch the ones on your thighs. Press on them. Are they still sore?”

  I sat up more so I could look down my body and stroke the bites on either thigh. The ones high near my groin were more vivid than the first ones he’d given me on the meaty inside of my inner thigh. He hadn’t broken the skin, so they were smooth bruises, faded yellow and purple. “One is a little sore, but not bad.”

  “Press your thumb on that mark. Remember how it felt when I bit you?”

  “Yeah.” I closed my eyes with the memory. The force of his jaws closing on my skin, the sounds he’d made.

  He growled just enough to make a delicious shiver slide down my spine. “I think I left a particularly memorable bite on your right breast. How does it look?”

  “Still beautiful. I mean, bad.”

  He chuckled. This was familiar territory. I knew this Charlie. I loved this Charlie. I lay back on the pillows and slid my hand between my thighs. I was definitely wet now. “Maybe you could take a picture of that gorgeous mark and send it to me later.”

  “Yeah. I’d like that. Could I show my friends?”

  “Absolutely, if that’s what you want.”

  “I want to show them off. I wish everyone could see them, but most people won’t understand.”

  “Is the bite on your breast still tender? Squeeze that sweet tit. Let me hear how it feels.”

  I groaned before I touched the scab. He’d definitely broken the skin. Squeezing my breast gently made the pain spread. Not the sharp, glorious pain of his bite, the pressure and cut of his teeth. But good. Especially when I remembered how he’d groaned deep in his throat at the taste of my blood in his mouth.

  “There’s my girl. Are you wet now?”

  I tightened my grip on my breast, letting the pain flow through me. “Yeah.”

  “After your encounter today, I’m moving my trip up. I’ll be home tomorrow night. I’m going to mark your flesh again, Ranay. I’ll brand you as mine. Every time you look at yourself, you’ll see my mark. You’ll know that I own you. I’d do anything for you. Even kill to protect you.”

  His words built the crescendo in me, fueled by the small pain. I couldn’t keep my fingers out of my pussy now. Not with his voice stroking me. Owned. I’d never had someone take such command of me before while still lifting me up and building my self-esteem at the same time. I wanted, needed his protection. As long as that didn’t mean actual killing.

  “Let me hear you purr, kitten.”

  All my reluctance and turmoil melted away. This was too perfect, too right, to scare me. Arching my back, I let pleasure cascade through me, drawing out my release by pressing on the fragile scabs of his bite.

  “Better?”

  I laughed, curling around his pillow. “Yes, Master. Much better.”

  “Are you still afraid?”

  “No. Not of you.”

  “Is the alarm on? Sheba’s there with you?”

  “Yes to both. We’re locked in tight and I’m here in your bed, wishing you were home.”

  “Tomorrow, kitten. Sleep tight.”

  “Charlie?” I asked hurriedly before he could hang up.

  “Yes?”

  My fears were gone, but I was still curious. Tasker said I didn’t know where Charlie was or what he was doing, which was right. I didn’t know anything about this trip. I’d assumed it was for work, the same as the last one, but he’d never really said. “Where are you?”

  “I’m sitting in a crappy motel room with an annoying neon light buzzing and blinking outside, cursing the hours until I can come home and bury myself in you.”

  “But where? New York?”

  He was silent several moments, and my heartbeat quickened. “Not New York, but it’s not safe for me to say where I am. It’s not safe for either of us. I’m working. I’ll be home tomorrow night.”

  “Are you in danger?”

  He laughed and I could almost see his eyes glittering with a mixture of amusement and violence at the same time. “Me? Never.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was after lunch and I still hadn’t had time to talk to Dr. Wentworth about more training. She’d been too busy. The phone had rung off the hook and every four-legged client seemed especially rowdy. Maybe a blizzard was headed our way.

  The waiting room was finally empty. In the lull, I’d mopped the tile floor to clean up any hair and tinkles I might have missed and ran through my afternoon prep to close. I could hear Dr. Wentworth humming as she cleaned up. She rotated assistants each day, and Callie had asked to leave early for a New Year’s Eve party, which was fine by me. Fewer witnesses, fewer interruptions. But even in the quieter final hours of the day, I had a hard time finding my tongue.

  I wasn’t scared of Dr. Wentworth. I’d rehearsed what I wanted to say last night. But the words didn’t want to come out of my mouth today. I guess I had a problem asking for things. I hadn’t gotten this job on my own in the first place. Oh, I’d applied on my own, sure, but for all I knew, Mom had made a call to her friend to ensure her basket case daughter...

  I paused in the middle of washing out the coffee carafe. Negative self-talk. For the first time, I heard the reel playing in my head and I deliberately turned it off. I’d done a good job so far, and I had no proof that I hadn’t gotten the job on my own. None at all. Dr. Wentworth had encouraged me to ask questions, so I was going to march in there and—

  The front door slammed open. “Help, please!”

  I slid the carafe onto the hotplate and rushed back to my desk. A woman held a puppy in her arms and it wasn’t moving.

  “I think it got ran over by a car. I saw it alongside the road.”

  “This way, please.” I opened the door to the examination area and called, “Dr. Wentworth, we have an emergency.”

  We had two exam rooms, but for this kind of work, I took the woman to the surgery room, where Dr. Wentworth performed sterilization and dental procedures. The woman laid the dog on the table and it whimpered, but barely moved.

  What I admired about Dr. Wentworth—and Charlie too—was her calm under pressure. Cool as a cucumber, she slipped on gloves and immediately took control of the situation. “Is this your animal?”

  “No, I saw it flopping alongside the road at the intersection. It must have been hit trying to cross the road. I picked it up and saw your sign.”

  “Excellent. Thank you for bringing her to us. We’ll take care of her from here.”

  “Do you need my information?”

  “No, thank you, we’ll take care of her. Can you find your way out? Ranay, I could use your help. Put some gloves on.”

  The Good Samaritan stepped out as I grabbed some gloves.

  “Of course we have an emergency when I’ve sent everyone home early. Does blood make you squeamish
?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered quietly. “But I want to try.”

  She smiled at me. “Good. Poor thing’s got a badly broken leg. I’ll take an X-ray but I don’t think we’ll be able to save it. Grab that table over there and slide it closer.”

  I slid into the role of assistant easily. It wasn’t that hard—Dr. Wentworth told me exactly what she needed and where it was. The puppy was only six to eight weeks old, some kind of bully mix. Probably dumped. Unwanted, unloved and now she was going to lose a leg too.

  “She’s still a baby,” Dr. Wentworth said as she worked. “Her tummy’s awfully round, so she’s probably got worms, but we can take care of that. She ought to heal well with good food and care. She won’t be slowed down at all. Don’t worry about her, Ranay. She’ll make someone a loving, adorable pet.”

  I smiled, though it was wobbly. “I hope so.”

  “You did good work today. Are you interested in doing more hands-on work with the animals?”

  Unbelievable. Here I’d been needlessly stressing out about how to ask, and the situation had worked out on its own. “I was going to ask you about becoming a vet tech today, but we were too busy. I was going to take a formal program, but it’s real expensive and I didn’t want to move to St. Louis. I like it here.”

  Dr. Wentworth smiled. “Good. We like having you. Unless you need official certification, there’s a lot that you can just pick up from us. Eventually you probably ought to take some courses, but I’m sure we can find something more suitable. Real hands-on work is more valuable than sitting in a controlled lab with a bunch of kids, anyway.”

  Walking back to the front, we noticed the package sitting on the counter at the same time. “Huh, did you hear anyone come in?”

  “Nope.” I picked up the manila envelope. “It’s addressed to me. Why would something get sent here?”

  Dr. Wentworth shrugged, but her bright eyes and eager smile told me she was highly interested in whatever was inside.

  The return address was the Department of Motor Vehicles from Jefferson City. My stomach clenched and my fingers trembled as I tore open the envelope. Maybe I’d gotten a ticket from one of those intersection cameras. Or someone was using my identity. Or—

  I scanned the letter first but it didn’t make much sense. It told me to keep the included certificate with me at all times, along with the animal’s immunization record. Confused, I handed the letter to Dr. Wentworth and read the certificate. Sheba was officially listed as my service dog.

  But I’m not blind.

  That’s all I could think for a moment. Then it dawned on me. Charlie had said I’d get a surprise today, if possible, that would enable me to keep Sheba with me at all times.

  “So that’s why he wanted all of those extra copies of Sheba’s shots.” Dr. Wentworth flipped through the extra papers. “Awesome. I had no idea he’d had her trained so thoroughly. She’s been through every obedience and assistance class I’ve ever heard of.”

  My eyes burned and my throat ached, but I didn’t cry. All I could do was gather up the papers and avoid looking at her. So grateful, not only to Charlie for making sure Sheba could be with me anywhere, but also to my boss, who never once asked what disability or excuse I had to justify a trained service dog. She accepted it, like she accepted me.

  “I don’t have to ask how your night with Sheba went.”

  I froze and slowly dragged my gaze up to her face. She’d been friends with Charlie awhile and knew about his wine collection. She knew where he lived. Had they ever dated? Now that I knew what he was into, I didn’t see how. Dr. Wentworth was an attractive woman in her mid-to-late thirties, but she was so calm and centered and in control. I couldn’t imagine her being submissive in the bedroom. No way. Not the way he liked.

  Dr. Wentworth smiled broadly. “It’s about time. I’ve never seen a man take such a slow, deliberate approach to asking a woman out. I thought he was never going to get up the nerve!”

  I forced out a laugh, hoping I didn’t sound like a nervous twit. “Slow was perfect.”

  “I’m glad. You couldn’t ask for a better man.”

  “Have you known him for long?”

  Dr. Wentworth thought a moment. “Not really. A year or so. When he started bringing Sheba to us. Actually, it was right before that. He invited a bunch of us to his house for drinks first.”

  “Us?”

  “Vets in the area. We joked about it because we’d never seen a client interview us quite so well. He was damned serious about making sure he picked the best vet for Sheba. I didn’t know we’d won until shortly after I hired you.”

  I could totally see him interviewing all of the local vets to make sure he picked the best one, and it certainly made sense that he’d be efficient and interview them all at the same time.

  “He made it clear he’d be traveling often with Doctors Without Borders and needed both medical care and kenneling with a hands-on, personal approach. He had us all eating out of his hand. I heard one clinic built a kennel for large breed dogs in hopes of gaining the contract. Boy was he pissed when we won instead.” Her laughter stilled and she squeezed my shoulder, her eyes kind. “I don’t know all the details, just that you’ve been through hell. I hope Mac takes as good care of you as he does Sheba.”

  I smiled tremulously. “He is. He’s so good to me. This—” I waved the certificate, “—is the icing on the cake.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  After a hot shower, I piled up the pillows in bed so I could read awhile. Charlie hadn’t called tonight, but he’d texted at eight that he was headed to the airport and to skip edging for the night. That meant he was going to be edging me himself when he got home.

  I could hardly wait. Hopefully he’d be home before midnight so we could ring in the New Year together. I’d posted a modest pic of the still vibrant bite mark on my breast to the forum yesterday, and I was still getting private messages about how gorgeous the bruises were. Maybe he’d give me something new to post. A black-and-blue ass, maybe. Though he’d have to use some kind of paddle to leave any lasting marks, and neither of us seemed to want any toys yet. I was perfectly happy with his hands and teeth.

  Reading a spicy romance didn’t help matters any. When I finally put the e-reader aside, I turned to my favorite cookbook. I had all the ingredients to make a decadent cheesecake tomorrow. It’d been a while since I’d baked, so I wanted to read through the instructions a few times.

  Sheba lifted her head and stared at the doorway. Charlie.

  Smiling, I fluffed up the pillows to put myself on display for him. Of course I was naked. In his bed, I was always naked. Maybe he’d order me to stay naked all day tomorrow too. I could bake his cheesecake—

  A low, rumbling growl broke through my sensual thoughts. She’d never growl at him like that. I scrambled out of bed and grabbed my phone. I’d turned the alarm on as he’d ordered, but I hadn’t bothered shutting the bedroom door, not if he’d be coming home in a couple of hours. I didn’t think anyone could get inside.

  Still, my heart pounded so hard I felt faint and goose bumps raced up my arms. Hugging myself, I looked around the room for a bit of clothing. I’d been wearing one of his T-shirts at night, and I tugged it over my head. At least it covered the pertinent parts, though it was thin enough my nipples stood out against the light cotton.

  “Hello?”

  Sheba crept out into the hallway, her ruff standing high along her back. Her growl intensified. I gripped my phone tightly, but I doubted he’d call. Not if he was on the plane. He wouldn’t have any idea that I needed him. That someone—

  The outside motion lights flickered on and I couldn’t stifle the gasp of dismay. “Sheba? Guard! Guard!”

  Her massive form was outlined in the doorway. Head low, tail stiff behind her, her powerful haunches braced, she stared intently down the hallway. Glass tinkled, faint but unmistakable. She charged down the hallway, snarling, and hit something with a solid thud.

  A man y
elled and Sheba snapped and barked, that attack-dog mode she’d gone into when Tasker had touched me. I screamed too, unsure whether I should go out after her or stay in the bedroom. What if he had a gun? What if she got hurt? Why wasn’t the alarm going off?

  Another crash rocked through the house and the shrill scream of the alarm made me clamp my hands over my ears. Sheba’s barking sounded farther away, as if she was chasing her prey outside. I went to the panel to try to turn off the head-pounding siren, but I didn’t know the code. In the commercials, the alarm company called, didn’t they? But did Charlie even have a landline?

  Sheba came trotting back into the room and sat down beside the bed. Pleased with herself, she wagged her tail and gave me a nudge with her head. I buried my hand in her fur and dropped down to my knees. “Are you hurt?”

  I ran my hands over her neck and chest, but she didn’t seem to have any injuries. The alarm seemed to get louder, a piercing shriek that was quickly crossing into migraine territory. Grimacing, I tugged on some yoga pants, slipped on my boots without trying to find my socks, and grabbed my coat. I’d rather sit outside in my car than listen to this agony.

  But what if the intruder was still out there, just waiting for me to leave the safety of the house?

  I pulled up Charlie’s number and texted him. The alarm went off. Someone was here, but I’m safe. What’s the code to shut it off?

  In the distance, approaching police sirens added to the cacophony rattling my head. Please hurry, Charlie.

  * * *

  Huddled in my coat, I sat on the front step of the house. Only one police car had responded, a county sheriff’s deputy who looked younger than me. Deputy Daniels made sure I was okay and then went to take a look inside. Sheba lay beside me, her head down on her front paws, so I wasn’t worried that the intruder was still around.

  The blaring security siren finally went off and my phone buzzed. Alarm’s off. Airport. Be there in 20 mins. Hold on, kitten.