Sun, Sand, and Submission [Libertine Island 2] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)

by Diane Leyne

  “I’m sorry. That came out so…intense. I’ve just been holding this all in for so long. I’ve dreamed of doing these things to you, but you never gave any indication of being interested. But I’ve loved you for so long that when you finally seemed to notice me as a man, I thought I could be satisfied with a vanilla relationship and I tried. Then I thought that maybe if I introduced you to the lifestyle a bit at a time, you might learn to like it.

  “And you seem to have enjoyed everything we’ve done. So I wanted to come clean. I didn’t want to trick you into the lifestyle, so you were immersed before you realized what was happening. I wanted to be up front. We can explore it together and discover what your limits are. You know me, Aly. I’ll never force you to do something you don’t want to do or don’t enjoy.”

  “But you want to force me into this lifestyle as you call it. You’ve been grooming me for it for weeks now. The little pinches, the bondage, the spanking. You say you wanted to try it vanilla, which I assume you mean sex like normal people, but that lasted, what, two weeks before you started doing things to me…”

  “Yes, I did start down that path to see if you were receptive, and damn it, Aly, you were. You enjoyed what I did to you.”

  “I’ll admit it. I liked it, and I came harder than I ever have before. You know I did. Why didn’t you just keep pushing me a little at a time? I’m sure I would have become your submissive in no time without this little talk.”

  Max ran his hand through his hair before looking her in the eye.

  “Yes, you would have. You were beginning to crave what I did to you, weren’t you? You loved it, and you couldn’t get enough!”

  Aly had trouble meeting his eyes. What he said was true, and it scared the hell out of her. What had he turned her into?

  “I want to train you properly, Aly. I want to be up front about it, not just push you a little here and a little there.”

  “Train me?” Aly was truly outraged. “Like a dog?”

  “No, god dammit! Like my sub! Although,” he added with a wicked smile, “puppy play can be lots of fun. I’d enjoy seeing you roll over and fetch on command.”

  The color drained out of her face as she realized he was serious. She ruthlessly tamped down on the little voice in her head that whispered that it wouldn’t hurt to at least try it once, but she suppressed that voice. She would not let a man do that to her. She was an independent woman. She would not be subjugated. As a journalist, she saw too many woman cowed by the men who claimed to love them. She would not be one of them.

  She looked up at the man she loved. Yes, dammit, she loved him, but she would not, could not have a BDSM relationship with him.

  “Are you saying that either we explore a BDSM relationship or it is over?”

  “Yes.”

  “Take me home.”

  * * * *

  That was eighteen months ago. After he’d dropped her at her door, she’d run into her apartment building, not waiting for him to open her door or walk with her. She just needed to be alone to process her thoughts, but then she got a call about her story proposal.

  Her editor agreed to facilitate her story and give her a leave of absence to pursue it, but he couldn’t pay her salary if she decided to go for it. They talked pros and cons for an hour, and in the end they agreed that it would be an amazing story and her editor would keep her on as a freelancer rather than a full-timer and would publish and syndicate whatever she produced.

  And then she was getting her shots and visas and then she was on an airplane heading to one of the smaller eastern European states to begin her one year with Doctors Without Borders. She would spend a month with each of twelve different operations in various parts of the world and help publicize the mission of these valiant healers while telling their personal stories and the stories of the people they were helping.

  She’d wanted to see him before she left and had even called him but had been too chicken to leave a voice mail when he didn’t answer, and an e-mail seemed too impersonal. She hoped she’d run into him at Maggie’s, but it didn’t happen. She had too much to do to get ready that she got on a plane a week after the breakup feeling like she’d left things unfinished. At the minimum, Max deserved an explanation. Maybe by the time she got back in a year, she’d even have one.

  But she’d been back for almost six months, and she’d barely seen him. When she did, he’d always had some remote beauty on his arm, and Aly had wondered if she was his sub as she had to force down the surge of jealousy she felt.

  She decided she wouldn’t sit around mooning about what might have been. She had a story to put together, and with a year’s worth of material, that was a lot of work, but she still made herself go out on dates. She’d been out with a half dozen men since she came back, but none of them had gotten past second base and none of the relationships had lasted. They’d all seemed too vanilla. And none of them were Max.

  She sighed. She didn’t want a BDSM relationship, she was sure she didn’t, but it seemed he’d spoiled her for a regular relationship. She missed his commanding presence in the bedroom, how he seemed to know just what she needed and he gave it to her, if he chose. Or he withheld it and made her beg.

  She’d even done some reading on the subject. Thank goodness for e-books. She’d downloaded a bunch of them whenever she got Wi-Fi access. She’d devoured books by Sophie Oak and Maya Banks and Tymber Dalton. She knew that they were fiction and no more realistic than any other romance, but they did give her second and third thoughts, and if she was really honest with herself, she regretted at least not giving it a try. She trusted Max. He would never have pushed her past her hard limits, although he was totally the type to push hard on her soft limits. She chuckled to herself. She’d even read Dr. Joshua McClain’s non-fiction book, The Dominant’s Guide to Owning and Training a Sex Slave, so she could talk semi-authoritatively on the subject, even if she lacked practical experience.

  She smothered a giggle. She was now an expert on BDSM, at least on paper. She’d lost track of the number of books she’d read and used in her fantasies, and they all reinforced her realization that she had overreacted when she’d just basically freaked out. Looking back, she knew that it wasn’t him she was afraid of. She was afraid of the desires he’d unleashed inside of her, and she’d panicked.

  She’d beaten herself up a hundred times for not at least giving things a try, but too much time had passed. She was eighteen months more set in her ways, and he was eighteen months more entrenched in the lifestyle and probably had a permanent sub or slave or whatever. She’d missed her chance to take a chance and give it a try with him and she’d never met another man she’d trust to do those things with her, to her.

  So she’d moved on with her life, and maybe someday she’d find another man who set her heart racing and her pussy throbbing like he did, but as the months passed, she’d never met anyone who’d lived up to Max, so she concentrated on her career and she’d finally gotten that breakthrough story. She was now a success, but it was lonely. In the meantime, she had her toys.

  Sometimes she dreamed of making love with him, of him tying her up and spanking her again before fucking her silly. And when she used her toys, he was the one she fantasized about.

  But now she needed help, and he was the only one she knew who could possibly give her what she needed. She was excited to see him again and scared and terrified that she’d find that he’d already collared another woman and she’d have to hide her jealousy and envy and still ask him for a favor.

  Rebecca. That was why she was doing this. Rebecca. It had nothing to do with the throbbing emptiness inside her that only he could fill.

  Chapter Two

  Max looked around the table. It was almost like old times, with his sister Maggie and two of her best friends, Jen and Aly. The only one missing was Rebecca.

  He’d been taken aback when he saw Aly. He’d seen her a few times since she got back, but he tried his hardest to avoid her.

  When he’d heard
that she’d left Chicago and gone off for a year in a war zone working on a story that was sure to win her a Pulitzer—if she didn’t die first, he thought—he’d been sucker punched in the stomach. His call display had shown that she’d called him a couple of times even though she hadn’t left a message. He’d decided to let her stew for a few days, and then he’d meet her and they’d do this over the right way.

  But he’d gotten caught up with something at work, and then she was gone. She was off to Bosnia or Kazakhstan or somewhere far too dangerous for an unarmed journalist. And especially far too dangerous for the woman he loved.

  Whenever he thought of her in such dangerous circumstances, his stomach churned. He’d become an obsessive news watcher and gone online every day looking for news out of that region, terrified that he’d hear that she was hurt or worse.

  He’d admitted to himself that he loved Aly and that he’d probably never love another woman the way he loved her, but the way she’d looked at him when he told her about his BDSM lifestyle had cut him to the quick. He hadn’t expected her to jump up and down and cheer at his announcement, but when he saw the disgust on her face, he hadn’t even tried to change her mind. He’d just walked out to the car and drove her home.

  He regretted it ever since. He should have tied her to the bed and fucked some sense into her, but he was a “gentleman” and let her go. Hell, that wouldn’t have worked. It would have freaked her out. But he should have talked it out with her, made her listen. And then if she still wasn’t interested, so be it. But she’d freaked and her revulsion had hurt him, and he’d reacted coldly and they’d driven back to Chicago in silence.

  He’d had girlfriends, okay, he’d had subs since then, he wasn’t a monk and he didn’t plan on living the rest of his life celibate, but none of those relationships had ever held a candle to the six weeks he’d spent with Aly. And he’d never collared any of them although several of them had pleaded for it.

  He’d even given serious thought to trying to give it a go vanilla-style for her, but he knew deep down he couldn’t do that, even for her. He could try, and probably succeed for a while, but in the end, he’d resent her and they’d end bitterly instead of as friends, which was bittersweet.

  He idly wondered why Rebecca wasn’t there. She hadn’t been around much in the last few years, come to think of it. She’d been studying her ass off, and he admired that. She realized what she’d wanted and had gone after it. She was the late bloomer of the group. Aly had always known she wanted to be a journalist. His sister Maggie was a very successful photographer, and Jen was a lawyer.

  He understood why Aly wanted to get together with Maggie and Jen, but why was he invited? He wasn’t complaining, mind you. He was thrilled to see Aly again, even if he had to hide how happy he was. It was pitiful, really, just how thrilled he was to be sitting at the same table as her. Clearly, he still hadn’t gotten over her, and maybe he never would. He’d deal.

  Looking at her, though, he grew concerned. He must have been frowning since she looked up from her salad and stared at him before going back to eating. He tried to lighten his expression, but he wasn’t happy with what he saw. Aly was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever met with her big, brown, almost black, eyes and wide, mobile mouth with her extremely kissable lips. He knew that by conventional standards she was probably just considered pretty, but to him, she was perfect.

  She’d lost weight while she was, away, though, a lot of it, and it looked like she hadn’t gained any of it back. He might be a guy, but he had a mother and three sisters. He knew women’s sizes. She’d been a size ten before. She’d complained she was too fat, but he thought she was perfect with her generous breasts and curvaceous hips and butt. Now she was a size four, tops, maybe even a two. And her breasts and butt had shrunk correspondingly. Now in addition to wanting to tie her to his bed and fuck her brains out, he wanted to force feed her all manner of sweets until her collarbones didn’t jut out any more and she lost that gaunt look around her mouth and eyes.

  If she belonged to him, she wouldn’t be having a salad as the entrée. Nope, it would be an appetizer. He supported her eating healthy, but he wanted her to get some more meat on her bones. She’d be eating plenty of vegetables, but also protein and starches. After the meal was over, he’d feed her delectable sweets until she’d filled back out again and the shadows under her eyes were gone.

  He took another bite of his own meal, when he realized as he was chewing that all of the women were looking at him. They’d probably asked him something and he’d zoned out as he’d daydreamed about a future with Aly again.

  He sighed.

  “Sorry, I guess I was a bit distracted. Work, you know.” He was a crappy liar.

  “More than a bit, brother. Having problems?”

  “Actually, I just about wrapped up a big project. Only a few details left to take care off. It took a year, but in two weeks, I do the final handover to the client and then I’m free. I haven’t had a day off since I started this job, so I didn’t book anything else. I’m planning on relaxing for a few weeks before I even start looking again.”

  “Like you even have to look,” his sister scoffed affectionately. “You’re one of the top IT consultants in Chicago. Most companies would fall all over themselves to hire you if you even looked their way.”

  Max laughed.

  “Maybe not all…” Max paused, looking around the table. The three of them looked so serious. He wondered what he had missed. Sighing, he asked, “Sorry about zoning out…you didn’t invite me here to talk about my IT contracts. Catch me up please.”

  “You remember Rebecca?”

  “How could I forget the fourth Musketeer? Where is she? Couldn’t get away from her studies?”

  “Well, actually, she’s more or less graduated. All that she has left is her thesis.”

  “Good for her.”

  “And she’s taken this job down in the Caribbean. A one-year contract. She only needs decent Internet access and can work on her thesis from anywhere. I might have mentioned the job to you?”

  “Yeah, I don’t think you said the name, just that it was a high-end resort and that Rebecca was going to have a year of fun and adventure, which I took to mean sexual adventure, while she finished her thesis and before she settled down into staid academia. Is she okay? You all look so worried.”

  “Worried? Maybe concerned is a better word. You see I’ve been getting these letters.”

  “Letters?”

  “Yes. I’ve gotten three, and they all seem to imply that Rebecca’s gotten herself involved in something…”

  “Illegal? I don’t believe it.”

  “No, not illegal or even illicit.” Aly sighed and blushed. “The writer says that she’s working at a BDSM resort and that she’s under the influence of two men who use sex to control her and beat her regularly.”

  Max looked at her and burst out laughing.

  Aly turned to Maggie. “I told you that would be his attitude. You should never have invited him.”

  “Yeah, and your stupid plan won’t work without him.”

  “I gotta say that she’s right,” Jen agreed. “You just can’t go haring onto private property and demand to see her. They have a perfect right to refuse to accept you as a guest or even allow you on their property.”

  “Oh, fuck the law. She’s my friend. She’s our friend.”

  “And that’s why we invited Max.”

  “You don’t even know if Max has the right connections to get you in, and even if he does, that still doesn’t mean you can go rampaging down there dragging him behind you.” Jen was using her reasonable lawyer’s voice, and he could see that it was driving Aly nuts, which was probably why she did it. Under her starched and serious demeanor, Jen was a wild one with a wicked sense of humor. He’d been trying to set her up for years with a friend of his, but it never seemed to work out. This year, he’d force them to meet even if it meant using trickery and deceit. He’d ask Aly to help him with th
at. She was good at getting her own way by any means possible.

  In the meantime, he had to find out just what it was she had in mind. She’d come up with some crazy schemes over the years, which is one of the things he loved about her, but it scared him, too. He’d thought the Doctors Without Borders story was a great idea until she decided that she needed to spend a year abroad with them in various danger zones with bullets flying all around.

  “What exactly is it that you need my connections for? Is it something to do with this job of Rebecca’s?”

  He looked from one to the other, and now suddenly, none of them would meet his eye. That only meant one thing. It had something to do with BDSM. Other than being a guy, it was the only unique thing he brought to the table. And then he had his lightbulb moment.

  “This resort she’s working at, it wouldn’t happen to be Libertine Island, would it?” The women’s mouths all dropped open, and Max found himself roaring with laughter. “Little Rebecca’s got herself a job there? And it sounds to me like you’re saying she’s found herself not one but two Doms to look after her? Good for her. I didn’t think she had it in her. I’m impressed.”

  “You know the place?” Aly stared at Max as if he’d suddenly grown two heads. “Have you been there? Did you know Rebecca was there? Do you know this Mal and Mike Reynolds?”

  “Hey, one question at a time. I know about it because A, the reason you invited me here is that I’m connected in the BDSM community, and B, a good buddy of mine, Jake, in the IT community did the tech setup there and he called me and I did some informal consulting. I’ve never been there, although I’ve thought of going. He offered me a free week as a thank-you for the IT help. Sounds like a pretty sweet setup to me. A whole week on a private island where there’s no one to judge you or your lifestyle, where you can live it twenty-four-seven if you want to and that would just make you the ‘normal’ one.”