She did another toe-touch, then looked at him. She must’ve seen something on his face, because she sighed. “My scars hurt today. They’re pulling. More than they have in a while.”
He was relieved that she’d answered and he wouldn’t have to drag it out of her, but still. He frowned. “Your scars, but not your spine?”
“Yeah. I took some pain meds this morning. I’m waiting for them to kick in.”
“Let me see.” He leaned against the railing and motioned her over.
She hesitated for a quick second, then shook her head. “They’re ugly.”
He reached down and pulled up his pants leg, showing her the road map of scars all around his knee and thigh. “Trust me. I know how that goes. They won’t bother me, princess, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
She came over, her head lowered. He moved her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead, then in one fluid move, lifted her shirt off. She wasn’t wearing a bra.
She gasped his name as she hurriedly covered her breasts. “What are you doing?”
“I want to be able to see them.”
Her cheeks were pink and her eyes had some much-needed spark in them. “You could’ve done that without stripping me naked!”
He grinned. “But where’s the fun in that?” He could’ve spent all morning looking at, touching, tasting the luscious, firm breasts he’d barely gotten a glimpse of, but he forced himself to keep his hands to himself. “Turn around.”
She snatched the shirt from his grasp and held it to her chest as she turned.
He didn’t look at her injuries, not yet. He pulled her back so she was leaning against him for balance. The contact was almost more than he could bear. “Bend over,” he said thickly, guiding her with his palm against the center of her back. “Slowly.”
She looked over her shoulder once, then rolled her eyes.
He grinned, but it faded when he looked down saw the extent of the scars. Christ Almighty. Several long, thick scars on either side of her spine, and one thinner one that ran straight down the center. He hadn’t been a paramedic, but from the news reports and what he’d heard from Marcus Aiello, she’d been damn lucky she wasn’t paralyzed. For a long moment, he felt dizzy.
“Gabe?”
“Just looking.” He ran a gentle finger down the one dead center of her back, and she flinched. “You okay there?”
“I hate the way that feels. Numb and tingly. I know it’s because the nerves were severed, but I hate it.”
“I remember that feeling. I’ll try to be more careful.” He pressed on either side of the thicker scars and frowned. “There’s a knot underneath these. I think you have adhesions.” He probed carefully. “And the skin is really dry. Did they give you something to put on them?”
She stood straight and put her shirt back on. “Yeah. My mother was helping me with the lotion, and they were doing massage around the scar tissue during PT, trying to break it up.”
He felt his blood start a slow boil. “When was the last time you had someone do either of those things?”
She looked at him warily, and he realized he’d been unsuccessful in hiding his annoyance with her. “The last day I was at the doctor’s. The day we had dinner.”
He ground his teeth together. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me what you needed when you got here?”
Her eyes rounded and spots of color suffused her cheeks. “I wasn’t going to ask a man I didn’t know to put lotion on my back or give me a massage!”
He ran his fingers through his hair and blew out a sigh, trying to control the need to shout. “Well, fuck me, princess, you know me now. Or is having my tongue in your mouth and my finger in your ass not enough of an introduction?”
Her face flushed scarlet. “Gabe!”
He almost grinned. Almost, but he was still too torqued by her stubbornness. He rolled his shoulders, huffed out a sigh. “Here. Have some coffee. Then we’ll go take care of your back.” He pinned her with a glare. “Today, and every day. That’s an order, princess.” And too fucking bad if it crossed the line between bedroom D/s and full-time D/s.
She looked like she was going to argue, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. Then she dipped her head. “Yes, Sir.”
Oh, he knew she was reacting to the small bit of play they’d done, calling him Sir when he called her princess, but he felt oddly satisfied by her acceptance of his dominance outside the bedroom. Funny, he hadn’t even realized he wanted that from her. He’d never cared whether or not he had it with anyone else.
After coffee and breakfast, she went up and had a quick shower. So did he. They had things to do before everyone arrived, and he wanted to get that lotion on her back and work for a few minutes on her scars before they went out and about. And he wanted more than her flimsy T-shirt and his thin cotton pants between them. She came back downstairs to the kitchen half an hour later, her hair still down around her shoulders, wearing another sundress, this one black. It had straps, but they weren’t on her shoulders.
He frowned. “What’s with your hair down today?”
She gave a wan smile and held up an elastic band. “Pulls when I try to tie it back. Would you do it for me?”
He nodded and took it from her. He scraped her hair back and wrapped the elastic around it. “Not fancy, but out of your face.”
“Thanks. Oh, and here’s the lotion they gave me.”
“No problem. Here, have a seat,” he said, holding out a kitchen chair for her and turning it around. “Straddle it and put your arms on the back.”
He helped her settle into position and he drew her dress down to her waist. She shivered, and he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “I wish you’d asked me to do this earlier.”
She dropped her head on her arms. “So do I.”
He pulled a chair behind her and squeezed lotion onto his hands. He rubbed them together to warm it up, then spread it over her back. He’d had to do the same thing to his own surgical scars, so he worked the flesh in one direction, rubbing his thumbs from bottom to top, and then from top to bottom. He finished up by rubbing in a circular motion. She flinched once or twice, but there was no getting past that. It was going to hurt, and in a bad way, until the adhesions were broken. He hoped it was only a matter of days, because the longer it took, the more painful it’d be. He worked on her back for about ten minutes, then added some more lotion to his hands and smoothed it into her entire back. “Just about done, princess.”
“Thank you, Sir.” She started to stand, but he put his hands on her hips, holding her in place.
“I said almost.” He followed his words with a trail of butterfly kisses down her spine, making sure to nuzzle each and every scar. “These aren’t ugly. They’re badges of honor, proof you’re the winner in the battle you fought.”
She was quiet, so he pulled up her dress and helped her up from the chair. When he turned her to face him, her eyes were haunted. “Ah, sweetheart.”
“Thank you. I hate them and why I have them but...thank you.”
“You’re hot no matter what.” He tossed her a leer, trying to get her out of her funk. That brought a halfhearted laugh, and he smiled. “Much better.”
She took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded. “Yes. So, what do we have to do today? Grocery shopping?”
He grimaced. “Yes. My favorite. But I know how you can make it better for me.”
“How?”
Her black dress was fairly modest, to her knees. He winked, then crouched in front of her, sliding his hands under her dress and up the sides of her thighs until he reached her panties. “I think I’ll take these.”
She shook her head wryly, but lifted each foot as he pulled them off. “You know, Sir, one of these days this is going to be really embarrassing.”
He dropped the panties onto his c
hair and took her hand, heading for the door. “Oh, I’m counting on it, princess.”
* * *
Dinner was a raucous affair, with much laughing and hilarious sexual innuendo. Colin and Delia Butler were a lovely couple. The fire marshal and the cop were newlyweds, so new they’d only just come back from their honeymoon. She hoped she had some time to talk with Delia alone because, from what she could see, their relationship was similar to hers and Gabe’s.
The only fly in the ointment tonight was Gabe. Before the Butlers had gotten here, he’d double-checked to make sure she was still naked under her dress. She was, and he’d kissed her senseless, leaving her with the words good girl ringing in her ears. But since then, he’d been somewhat aloof. Friendly but much more reserved than she’d seen him be the whole time she’d been staying here.
“Ready for seconds?” Gabe asked, standing up from his chair.
He walked to the warmer where he’d placed several loaves of the French bread she’d helped him make earlier. She’d had no idea cooking could be so sensual, but she knew it now. She glanced over her shoulder at him and he winked, the devil alight in his eyes. She grinned and turned her head back to their guests as Colin spoke.
“I’d love more. Thanks, Gabe.”
“How about you, Delia?” Gabe asked.
“No thank you, Sir. I don’t think I could eat another bite.”
Sir? Delia called Gabe Sir? Liv’s stomach twisted, suddenly unsettled. It seemed as though it should be something private between her and Gabe in this relationship they were building. Not necessarily hidden from the others, but not used by someone who hadn’t been intim—
Her mind came to a crashing halt. No.
“You okay?” Gabe’s voice came in her ear as his hands landed on her shoulders. She couldn’t help it, and she flinched, pulling away from him. She felt him freeze behind her. “Come to the hall with me.”
She looked back over her shoulder and glared at him. “Is please not a part of your vocabulary? Because it bloody well should be.”
The room fell dead silent.
Shit. Delia looked horrified but also slightly amused. Colin was grinning and stifling a laugh. She felt herself flush. Good going, Olivia. Way to make a first impression.
“Now, princess.”
Chapter Eleven
The whip-sting of Gabe’s words held no flexibility whatsoever, and her body reacted to the absolute authority in them. She rose and he pulled out her chair, but instead of lacing his fingers with hers, he tucked his hands in his pockets. Shit, shit, shit.
She went into the hallway and he followed after her, the swinging door rocking behind them. She turned and faced him, ready to apologize for her surly tone, to explain, but he crowded against her until her back was flat against the wall.
“Is there a problem I need to know about, princess? And if you know what’s good for you, you won’t lie to me.” He looked away for a brief second, blew out a breath and then braced his hand against the wall near her neck, his thumb rubbing against the side of it, right over her pulse.
Nerves swam in her stomach, and she licked her lips. She wasn’t afraid of him. He’d never hurt her, she knew that. A man who could kiss her hideous scars so sweetly wasn’t capable of that kind of violence. But she had a feeling she was seeing more of the demanding, dominant Gabe than she’d ever seen before.
“I’m waiting.”
She responded to the order in his voice with a rush of moisture between her legs that made her wonder what had happened to her sanity. Even so, it was as though he’d given her permission to say what she needed to say, no matter how her words might sound. She opened her mouth and everything bubbled up and spilled out in a quick burst. “Delia calls you Sir.”
His thumb froze, his eyes widened and then, to her shock, he laughed, low in his throat. “You’re jealous.”
She didn’t need to see a mirror to know her face had turned scarlet. “I’m not,” she denied, but he wasn’t fooled by her vehemence.
“You are. I think it’s cute.”
What an obnoxious statement. She let out a disgusted noise and shoved her hands at his chest but he grabbed them, pushing them over her head, against the wall.
“God, you taste good,” he said, nipping and sucking at her neck in the spot he loved.
She was going to have a permanent mark there if he kept it up. She shouldn’t have felt as happy with that thought as she did, but there it was. He shifted his grip so he held her wrists with one hand, and then slowly, he bracketed her throat with his other, covering her windpipe.
He squeezed his fingers gently. It didn’t hurt at all, but it was so possessive she felt another rush of moisture at her core. “When she calls me Sir, it’s a sign of respect. I mentored her and Colin. She chooses to do it, and I’m enough of a Dom to appreciate it. When you call me that, it’s a sign of respect to my role, but it’s also more, isn’t it? It’s the same reason I don’t want Marcus calling you Princess Olivia anymore.”
His growled admission made her heart race.
He released her neck and slid his hand under her dress, cupping her between her legs, not entering her but keeping his touch shockingly possessive. “This is mine. You’re wet for me and for how I make you feel.” Then he palmed the erection she could see behind his zipper. “And this belongs to you in the same way. I’m hard for you because of how you make me feel when you submit to me. Her calling me Sir doesn’t do it. You calling me Sir does. Every. Fucking. Time.”
Wow.
His voice got low and hard, and he locked eyes with her. “But don’t think I’ll tolerate blatant disrespect. Being snide, especially in front of another Dom, isn’t something I take lightly. I know this world is new to you, but that just isn’t done. Do you understand me?”
She swallowed hard and broke eye contact with him, looking down ostensibly to the floor, but her eyes fixed on his erection. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered, and if she wasn’t wrong, the bulge behind his zipper grew.
“Good. When we get back in there, I expect an apology. Consider it a lesson in BDSM etiquette.”
Her spine snapped straight but she blew out a sigh. The high-handedness of the statement didn’t sit well with her independent side, but in all honesty, she’d been nasty to him in front of Colin and Delia, so she needed to make things right in front of them, too. Not simply because he was a Dom and she’d gone against etiquette but because he was a person, and he hadn’t deserved her bitchy attitude. “Yes, Sir.”
Colin and Delia stopped talking when they came back in, and their eyes turned to her. Bloody hell. Her stomach dropped, and so did her head. She focused on the floor, but Gabe was having none of that.
“Eyes, princess.”
His voice was soft, but she stubbornly held her ground. Gabe’s shoes came in her line of vision, and he tucked a hand under her chin and forced her gaze up. It wasn’t a painful action, and it wasn’t demeaning, but it was demanding and she caved to the dominance in it, not fighting it. To her surprise, his face wasn’t angry, it was indulgent, and his eyes were filled with compassion but a determination that said he wouldn’t budge on this lesson.
“I’m sorry, Sir. I shouldn’t have said what I did.” Her voice cracked. “It just came—”
“Apology accepted.” He stroked her neck with his thumb. “You’re embarrassed though, aren’t you?”
Yes. She shook her head, even more embarrassed he’d figured that out.
“No need to be, princess. Look at them. They’re not judging you.”
She made herself look toward the table and was stunned by what she saw. Colin had his hand wrapped around the back of Delia’s neck, his fingers tight against her throat. She had a sheen of tears in her eyes, while he wore the same indulgent look Gabe had.
She turned her eyes back to Gabe.
/> “They get this, Olivia. They live this life, so they know all about the expectations and the rules that you’re just now learning. Hell, knowing Delia, she probably has to apologize to her master daily. Maybe even hourly.”
Colin laughed heartily. “It’s true. She is a brat, but she’s my brat.”
Delia grinned, but it faded. “I know the whole Dom/sub thing is lot to take in, but we’ll talk, Olivia. You can ask me anything.”
“Thanks.” Knowing she had someone she could go to made her feel better about this weird, unexpected roller coaster she was on. She took a few deep breaths, and that helped settle her unease. So did Gabe, who was now stroking her arm with his finger, making her feel a totally different kind of unsettled.
As they all left the kitchen, Colin spoke up, redirecting the conversation away from her, thank God. “Looks like you’ve got nearly everything back to normal. How’re the renovations coming? You almost ready to reopen?”
She was still facing Gabe, so she didn’t miss the tension that tightened his face. It was there for just a short second, and then his normal calm face was back, the look she thought was probably the one he gave all his guests. What was up with that? Before she could ask, he answered Colin.
“Just working on the finishing touches now. Olivia’s been doing most of the shopping to get the rooms looking like they did before.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “She’s done a fantastic job getting things the way I like them. Why don’t you go look around?”
Colin and Delia started toward the front of the house and Gabe moved to follow, but Liv squeezed his hand and pulled him back. “Hey, are you okay?”
His brow lifted. “Isn’t that my line?”
She cocked her head and studied him. “We’ve spent every day together for a month. I can tell something’s bothering you. And you didn’t answer Colin.”
“I appreciate the thought, princess.” He used their connected hands to yank her close, then punctuated the sentence with several hard, hot, openmouthed kisses that set her heart racing. “But I’m fine.”
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