by Cara Adams
That was true. He’d actually been quite concerned about the hurricane, but there’d been a lot of wind in the lead up to it before the rain had begun.
He leaned against the wall and watched as Piper toweled her hair and then ran her fingers through it, combing it neatly. He longed to help her untangle it, but he wasn’t showered and he was very aware of the sweat on his body and his hands not being perfectly clean.
Ryder turned the water off and opened the glass shower door. Eliot was ready to get in and take his turn when an enormous gust of wind howled overhead slamming into the back of the little guest cottage with a force that made the walls rock. He looked up at the ceiling just as a second, even more powerful gust shook the house. This time there was a loud screech, louder even than the wind, and the ceiling started to ripple like the waves on the beach.
Eliot grabbed Piper and screamed, “We need to get you downstairs right now. The roof’s going to come off.” He pushed her through the doorway. She looked up at the television bolted to a stand high up on the wall so clients could watch it in bed. It was a huge flat-screen TV, much nicer than the one in their own house, but guests needed good equipment.
Piper waved at the TV and said something he couldn’t hear. He bent down so her lips were at his ear, and nudged her to keep walking but she stayed still.
“Have you got a wrench? That TV would be worth a lot of money. We ought to take it downstairs with us. Rain will ruin it.”
“You’re not serious?” he said, staring at her.
The stubborn look on her face said that hell yes, she was.
Ryder grabbed Piper and picked her up to hurry her downstairs, but she held his head and yelled into his ear as well. It was clear the damn woman wasn’t going to give up easily. Eliot pushed past them and ran downstairs. They’d bought a few tools with them in case they needed to fix something. He found the backpack with tools in it, found an adjustable wrench and a screwdriver, and headed back upstairs. Ryder dumped Piper on the bed and yelled, “Stay there,” before following him back upstairs.
Zac was looking at the roof and shaking his head. Eliot wasn’t surprised. There was nothing much they could do to save it. He took a chair and climbed up to the TV, and Ryder came across to help him. Then he saw Piper running across the room and wrestling with the small table.
What the fuck was she doing now? She started to push it toward the stairs and he understood. Okay, she could do that. Clearly she didn’t plan to stay downstairs out of trouble. She was going to rescue the furnishings. He looked at the size of the bolt on the wall, adjusted his wrench, and got to work. Ryder held the end of the TV as he freed it from the wall, and they both gingerly lifted it down and carried it to the stairs. Already Piper and Zac had collected the table and another chair. Piper waited until they were off the staircase and began running up it again.
“Stay here,” he yelled to her. The wind was so loud maybe she couldn’t hear him. Or more likely she just wasn’t going to listen. He and Ryder put the TV against the wall, the towels they’d both been wearing wrapped around it so it didn’t get scratched.
Piper hurried down the stairs with a table lamp in her hands and Eliot grabbed her holding her tightly. “No more. It’s dangerous.”
She wiggled to get out of his clutches, but he held onto her. Zac appeared with the nightstand, and Ryder locked the door to the stairs, then collected the other used towels and made a barricade at the door.
Eliot guessed he was trying to protect them from rain coming through the roof and pouring down the stairs. He rummaged through their cooking gear and found a baking tray, a cooking pot, and a couple of bowls. Once Ryder had come down the stairs he balanced them in a row under the lip of the top stair. Hopefully any water that made it past the towels would drip into the containers. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best they could do right now.
Piper was sitting on one of the chairs she’d brought down, getting dressed. He grabbed her, threw her over his knee, and spanked her.
“You could have been badly hurt,” he yelled at her.
Having to scream at her diminished the effect of his words, but the hard spanks on her ass should have attracted her attention anyway. He spanked her again, needing her to learn to stay out of danger. It was his job to the do the dangerous tasks, not hers. She had to learn to trust her Masters, not disobey them.
Finally he turned her to face him and held her tightly. He bent over her and said right into her ear. “You have to trust us. We’ll do whatever is necessary. You must stay in safety.”
She twisted in his arms. “I’m not a china doll to sit on a shelf. You only rule me in the dungeon.”
Well fuck. How was he supposed to explain in the middle of a hurricane that he wasn’t treating her like a toy but that he was worried about her, and if anything hurt her he’d never forgive himself?
With a banshee-like screech of tortured metal and wood, louder than anything he’d ever heard, so loud his ears ached, the roof ripped off the cottage, and rain pounded directly over his head on the ceiling of the dungeon.
Oh shit!
Chapter Three
Ryder had wanted to spank Piper himself for rushing into danger. It was bad enough she’d wanted a shower, but to stay upstairs once the wind had started again was even worse. As for insisting on helping to remove the furniture, that was downright dangerous. No amount of furniture was worth the risk of her being hurt. People could be killed in hurricanes.
And now they were stuck here in a cottage with no roof. He worried that they should have taken her to their own home, where they’d tied down the roof, but that was no guarantee either. Plus, their house was different.
Well, it was different on the inside. From the outside it looked much like every other cottage on the island. Constructed of wood and set into the surrounding environment to blend in as much as possible, it was built over a cave, of course, as all the cottages were. The difference was that he and his brothers had turned their house into a hydroponic vegetable garden.
Originally the first floor had been a large, open-plan room with the kitchen, family area, and living area, then a bedroom that had been used by their parents and a second, larger bedroom that he and his brothers had shared. The two bedrooms were separated by a bathroom. At the very back of the house, a door, which appeared to be to a closet, led downstairs to three small, interconnected caves. The first and smallest one was a storeroom, the second a dungeon, and the third had been his and his brothers’ man cave as they were growing up. These days, it was the only place left where they could relax because the first floor, apart from the food preparation area and their bedroom and bathroom, was now one huge hydroponic garden.
Eliot had studied agriculture in college, and hydroponics intensely. He’d started small by trialing various vegetables, and now they grew a lot of the islanders’ fresh food.
Ryder was already looking into crops and markets they could expand into for added income for the island. But what that meant right now was that apart from their own small relaxation cave, there wasn’t really anywhere to take Piper to wait out the hurricane. That was why he’d decided to bring the food and equipment here to her instead of moving her somewhere else.
Right now he was very much afraid that’d been the wrong decision. He paced around the room like the panther he was, listening to the rain drumming on the floorboards above his head, resting his hands on the solid rock walls, and wondering if the roof would cave in at any moment.
He didn’t even have the wherewithal to make a tent to keep his woman dry. No plastic, no tarpaulins, no canvas, nothing suitable. The table from her bedroom was tiny, only meant for one or two people at the most, so that would hardy protect a person huddling underneath it.
Slowly he scanned everything in the dungeon. No, nothing. Even the boxes and bags they’d brought the camping gear and food here in wouldn’t add up to enough material to provide a cover for one person. He’d just have to hope like hell the floor above them was sturdy enou
gh to keep them dry.
He jumped onto a chair and rapped the ceiling, but he couldn’t tell if it was just drywall attached to the floor joists or if there might have rock between the floor above them. The noise of the rain sure sounded loud, but he hoped that was just the hurricane, not an indication there was just a few pieces of timber between them and the storm.
Structurally the safest place in a storm was supposed to be under the stairs, but when a flood of water might come running down the stairs that idea wasn’t going to work either. They’d just have to stay where they were and hope like hell the ceiling here was tough enough to protect them. But fuck. He hated being in this position. Hated, hated, hated not being certain he could protect his woman.
He looked around to see what Piper was doing, wondering if she was curled up in bed asleep. It was getting very late at night. Well, likely it was the morning already. With no windows it was difficult to tell how much time had passed. She’d gotten dressed and taken the damp towels off the TV and was wrapping it in the giant trash bags they’d used to bring the towels and extra bedding with them in. He hurried across and helped her double bag the TV and then rest the trash bags against the wall again.
Ryder took the two extra towels and added them to his blockade at the stair door. He kneeled down, careful not to knock any of the pots set in place to catch any water, and ran his fingers along the bottom of the door, but there was no dampness. Either there wasn’t much water inside the house or else it wasn’t pooling by this door if there was.
Something was nagging at the back of his mind. Not about this cottage but about the newest one, the cottage that had only just been finished in time for these four women to come to the island. He and his brothers hadn’t helped with the rebuilding because the vegetable crops took all their time. But he was sure now he’d heard that the most recently renovated cottage was designed so that if there was water in it the water would drain into the bathroom and down the drain in the center of the bathroom floor.
It hadn’t been done with a hurricane in mind, but in case the faucet had been left running and the tub overflowed or if a pipe burst perhaps. But he really hoped this cottage had the same design. All the client cottages had been renovated extensively, so maybe that was the case. He shut his eyes and pictured Piper’s bathroom. Yes, there was a drain in the center of the bathroom floor. Well, maybe water would go down it. Although it could just as easily come down the stairs and flood them all. He sighed. There was no way of knowing what might happen.
The facts were that Hurricane Nathan was here right now and the roof had been ripped off. What happened next would be in the hands of the gods.
* * * *
Zac hated being inside not knowing what was happening with the hurricane. Well, he knew the fucking roof had been torn off. What he didn’t know was how much of it had come off and whether the rest would be blown away as well. If he knew which part of the house was still protected they could move the furniture around and put the bedding there. It was hellishly late and they all really needed to sleep, if sleep would even be possibly with so much noise happening.
He knew the hurricane could last for hours yet, and even when they finally opened the door they’d have to be incredibly careful. The last thing they wanted was to send a flood of water down the stairs if the door had been holding it back.
Also, outside could be pretty damn dangerous if trees and roofs were flying around. Being hit by debris could be lethal. But having seen Piper’s determination to save the furniture he had the distinct impression she wouldn’t sit quietly in the dungeon while he and his brothers found out what was happening outside. Oh no, she’d be right there with them. Fucking hell, what a mess.
Even though he’d just gotten dressed, he really wanted to change into his panther and race around outside, seeing what was happening. Had other buildings lost their roofs as well? What about the big house? Were the Alpha and the offices all okay? What about the old people? How were they coping?
But once again he couldn’t. He had to wait here until fucking Nathan left them alone.
Zac moved over to the bed, rearranged the pillows in a row, and piled the blankets beside them. He pulled Piper into his arms and laid her down, cuddling behind her. He had his back to the rock wall and had her pulled tightly against himself so he could hold her safe. He had no idea if any of them could sleep, but really, there was nothing else they could do now.
Eliot must have agreed with him. He joined them, pulling the blankets up and lying on the other side of Piper. She snuggled between them, and he realized she was very tired, just as they all were. He hoped she’d sleep despite the storm still being earsplittingly loud, much louder than before, thanks to the loss of the roof.
Ryder joined them and pulled another blanket up right over all their heads. Zac didn’t think it’d block out much noise, but maybe it’d help a little.
He kept tight hold of Piper and felt her body soften and relax in his arms. He knew when she was asleep, even though he couldn’t hear her breathing. Hell, he couldn’t hear anything except cracks of thunder, driving wind, and pounding rain. The high school marching band could be practicing right over his head and he wouldn’t even know.
It soothed him to hold Piper. His brain acknowledged that he wasn’t really protecting her. If the ceiling above them collapsed there’d be nothing much he could do to keep her safe and dry. Wrap her in a trash bag maybe. But knowing she was resting was a balm to his injured pride. Maybe he hadn’t prevented the damage to her cottage, but right now she was all right, sleeping in his arms, gaining her strength for the new day.
It was pretty amazing really. She’d made no attempts to complain. She’d accepted the bad luck about the weather and done what she could. Of course, the noise was so deafening verbal complaints would have been completed wasted. But her body language hadn’t been cranky. It’d been accepting. She’d done what she could to help.
She was a woman to be proud of, one who’d faced adversity and challenges by thinking of helpful tasks to do. Damn, he wanted her. Sex with her had been the most amazing experience. He wanted her so much, that having her in his arms like this was hell as well as heaven, because it made him want so much more than just to cuddle her.
Zac tried to think of what the next few days would hold. Not what he and his brothers had planned that was for damn sure. There’d be no cookouts on the beach. Maybe they’d take her to their house and use their dungeon, although even that wasn’t a very good idea. There wasn’t anywhere for her to sit and relax apart from the living room furniture they’d crammed into their man cave.
Their childhood playroom was wall-to-wall sofas, desks, tables, and chairs, and their bedroom had an overfull closet and their three beds. Neither of them were the kind of place to entertain a woman. There wasn’t enough floor space anywhere to put a big mattress like this so they could sleep together.
Well, fuck. They’d better hope this dungeon stayed intact then, as otherwise they’d never have ménage sex with her again. There just wasn’t anywhere to do it.
But what if she’s our mate? What’ll happen then? We have nowhere to offer her as a proper home.
Chills ran through Zac at the thought. He and his brothers had talked and talked and talked about wanting a mate. This as the very first time they’d hosted a Caves of Correction client, which was why they were so damn careful not to rush anything. But that didn’t mean they hadn’t wanted a mate up until now. It was just that life kept getting in the way. First Eliot had to finish school, and then he was determined to make the hydroponic garden work.
Zac and Ryder had become enmeshed in the vegetable growing scheme as well. It was an ideal way of feeding the community instead of having to buy fresh produce from the Carolina mainland and bring it across to the island in the boat all the time. Expanding their crops to ones that would bring extra income into the community was a natural extension. But their house was full of plants already. They’d need much more space if they were to increase
the crop. And none of that would help them house a mate. No sane woman would want to have to live in the overcrowded man cave or to sleep on what was effectively a teenager’s bunk bed.
Zac rested his face against Piper’s neck and breathed her scent deep into his lungs. He didn’t know if she was destined to be their mate or not, but everything about her appealed to him. Besides, the problem remained even if Piper wasn’t The One for them. It was a damn shame the plants couldn’t be stacked up in multiple layers the way their bunk beds were.
Wait a minute. Why couldn’t the plants be multilayered? As long as there was room for each plant to grow to its full height, the air space above it was wasted. There was no reason why they couldn’t build a whole second story of plant benches at their own chest height. They’d still be able to tend them perfectly well.
Zac pictured the wooden framework of the bunk beds translated into a second layer of hydroponic growing beds for peppers, chilies, carrots, onions, and other foods. Not tomatoes or string beans. They grew tall. But plenty of other crops didn’t—lettuces, potatoes. Hell yes. They could do this. They could rearrange their house to grow more crops and still have space to welcome a woman. It’d just take a bit of thought, and he had all night to think.
* * * *
For years Piper had been considering the concept of BDSM. She strongly believed in karma, the idea that what goes around comes around. That was the only thing preventing her from picking up the nearest heavy object and slamming it into her manager’s face some days at work. He seemed to have absolutely no ethics whatsoever, nor did he care if his actions hurt other people. He was a complete narcissist.
Piper was pretty sure a lot of people, herself included, would cross against a red light if there was no traffic anywhere around, like at two in the morning or something. But the facts her boss twisted and falsified made her stomach churn some days. They were so much worse than minor infringements, or petty theft.