by Adira August
People were passing them on the sidewalk, staring back as they passed. Hunter didn’t blame them. Avia Rivers was tall and hourglass shaped. Her shortish, honey-blond waves caught the breeze and her skirt pressed against her thighs. She was as full of life as anyone he’d ever known. And right that minute, her eyes sparkled with her anger and her full lips parted, ready to excoriate him.
He grinned.
“What?!”
“You are so fucking hot Rivers. It’s no wonder he put up with your smart-ass, know-it-the-fuck-all, O.D.D. self all these months.”
He walked on. “I’m buying,” he called back over his shoulder.
By the time he was holding a couple chili dogs and sodas, she’d caught up. She was looking at her cell phone. He carried his lunch into the park and found a maple to sit under. She followed and stood next to him.
She waved the phone at him. “I do not have ‘oppositional defiant disorder’.”
“Then why are you still standing?” He held out one of the chili dogs.
She shook her head.
“You lost your job and your best friend because you would not do what your boss—the aforementioned best friend—told you to do in a critical moment. The Dominant love of your life collared you. Then you handed that collar back to him at a critical moment because you didn’t trust him to make the right calls.”
“My sister was kidnapped!”
“Irrelevant,” he said, opening the can of soda. “And finally, in a gesture that blows all other instances of topping from the bottom into microdust, you handed him back the collar to put on you.”
“I was ready.”
“And he dropped it down a well.”
“Couch cushion.”
He finished his first chili dog. “Right now, you’re hungry and won’t take food from my hand. You’re tired and won’t rest in this nice grass.”
“Dogs pee here.”
He took a bite of the second chili dog, looking around the park, waiting for Avia’s innate common sense to reassert itself. He heard her open the other can of soda as she settled herself next to him. She took the last half of chili dog out of his hand.
“I know what he did was … I don’t know. Normal, I guess, for this kind of relationship. I just didn’t think it would make me feel so bad.”
He could hear the impending tears in her voice. Avia didn’t cry.
“You said there was no aftercare; he just threw you out of the office?”
She nodded. “He didn’t have time; he had to take a call.”
“A call?” Hunter’s brows drew together. Ben Hart never seemed like a cold-hearted man to him.
“Some embassy.”
“You barged into his office to nag him about your sex life while he was waiting for a meeting with a foreign embassy?”
She shrugged.
Detective Lieutenant Hunter Dane ran an elite unit that handled suspicious death among the wealthy and famous who needed a high level of discretion. He was used to dealing with powerful people who made decisions on a daily basis that affected the lives of hundreds or even thousands of people. Avia’s presumption and total lack of humility stunned him.
“And he warned you?”
She nodded.
“Why did you call me, Av? What do you want from me?”
She rolled onto her stomach and rested her chin on her crossed forearms.
“I want you to tell me what he wants from me.”
“You want me to tell you?”
“You’re a Dom, right?”
“I’m a switch.”
“I know, but you Dom women. You know how it works.”
He sighed. “I don’t have relationships with them. I meet them at the club; I have scenes with them. They go home. I go home. Sometimes I don’t know their names.” He lay down next to her on his side and propped his head on one hand. “I’m having enough trouble working all this out with my own Dom.”
“Cam’s okay?”
“Cam’s fine. He’s mostly walking without canes. Look—you and I used to say we had something in common: we fucking hate it when people play games. So why aren’t you asking Ben?”
“I tried, that’s why I went to his office.”
“No. Why aren’t you asking him what he wants, exactly?”
She ripped up a handful of grass and didn’t answer.
“You’re afraid he’ll tell you.”
“I can’t lose him,” she said, her voice tight.
“Go home, Av.”
“He’s still at the office.”
He stood up, gathered the trash. “No. Go home. To your home. You remember? Your condo, your life? You, before you were whisked away to a castle keep by a handsome prince?”
She scrambled to her feet. “You think I should leave him?”
“I think the thing you’re afraid of losing is yourself. You were never like this. You aren’t a weepy kept woman. You’re a feisty investigative reporter who plays lousy racquetball. But you still play. Or you used to.”
He looked around for a trash barrel. “You’re afraid of losing yourself but you already did. And I’m betting he didn’t ask for that. Now c’mon. Before I start charging you by the hour for all this insight and shit.”
They threw away the trash and walked back toward the bistro and their cars.
“Why is Talli being kidnapped irrelevant?”
“Get a therapist, would you?”
She put a hand on his arm. “No, please. Tell me why. Then I’ll get a therapist. I promise.”
He grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Let it go, Av. Your whole thing with Ben—it was all too fast, too intense. You knew him, what? A week when he collared you? No negotiation, nothing. I’m sorry I said anything. Of course it mattered.”
She stopped. He sighed and took a step back to her. “C’mon…”
“You think it’s my fault Hank is dead.”
“All fault lies with the asshole who killed him, Avia.”
“Is that what Ben thinks, too?”
He went to the curb and waited for a break in traffic. She chased him into the street as he crossed.
“I told you to talk to Ben.”
“I want to see the recordings.”
“I don’t have them; it was six months ago. Move the fuck on!”
She got in front of him, blocking his way in the last lane. “Don’t give me that crap. It was your case! The security cameras recorded everything and Ben gave you access. You didn’t erase that. Show me the digital files.”
A horn blared and he grabbed her by the upper arm and dragged her onto the sidewalk.
“This is why men want to turn you upside down, Rivers.”
She yanked free. “This is why I’m an award-winning investigative journalist, Dane.”
“Pushy, overbearing bitch!”
“Arrogant, conceited asshole!”
Her text alert sounded and she fished the cell from her pocket.
“I have to go.” She hurried away.
“Hey!” he called after her.
She looked back.
“You’re two smart people who love each other. You’ll figure it out.”
HUGO RAMOS waited for Avia in one of the castle’s electric security vehicles. In his early forties, his black hair was whiter since the loss of Henry Eustace, his husband. But he was still on top of his game as Ben Hart’s right hand. He flashed Avia a grin when she got out of her car.
“Your chariot awaits.”
“I thought I’d walk,” she told him as she leaned in to kiss his cheek.
He got out. “Good idea.”
“Why did he send you?” They started up the cinder path toward a small wood bridge. The stream underneath ran through the property and into the huge granite edifice everyone called the castle.
“Helicopter will be here in an hour. I’m supposed to brief you.”
“Hugo, you’re literally the president of a multinational corporation. How do you always have time to babysit me?”
<
br /> “There are twenty-seven senior vice-presidents. None of them is as pretty as you.”
She leaned over suddenly and gathered her skirt tightly around her knees.
“You alright?”
“Yeah, I was just afraid my skirt might fly up from all the smoke you’re blowing.”
He didn’t look amused. They kept walking. “You know, life might be a lot easier if you just went along with things.”
“Easier for whom?”
“For me, for one.”
Self-centered.
“Crap.” They crossed the bridge with its Fish Have Right of Way sign. “I’m sorry, I seem to be having a day. Please, brief me.”
“He’s leaving shortly. He’ll be back Wednesday night. He’ll keep in touch when he can. But if you don’t hear from him, you aren’t to worry. He …”
They passed through the low archway through the thick stone wall that surrounded the inner property nearer the house everyone called the castle.
“Go on.”
“He sent Ione with a cleaning team to your old place. He thought you might want to spend more time there, now.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Hugo, how are you? I mean, are you good? Heart healthy, all that?”
“I think so; I stay in shape.”
“Good. Because you’re going to need to run.”
Avia took off for the big house. Hugo shook his head, gave her a five-count headstart, and ran after her.
“MAYBE I’D LIKE TO SPEND more time at my condo?”
Avia strode up to Ben and got right in his face. “You want to throw me out, Ben Hart, you have the balls to tell me yourself. You don’t make poor Hugo do it.”
She pointed Ben’s bedroom door where Hugo had just arrived, out of breath.
“Sorry, she kind of got away from me.”
“Me, too,” Ben told him and gave him a nod of dismissal. Hugo backed out, closing the door.
Ben looked down into Avia’s bright, determined, hurt face and repressed the urge to gather her up in his arms.
“I’m going to talk. You’re going to listen.” It wasn’t a request.
She hesitated, then took a step back and nodded.
“It was your first experience with behavioral discipline. There was no time for aftercare. I could not have you in the office during the call. You didn’t come home. I didn’t know if you’d be back before I left. You might not have wanted to speak to me if you did come home. You might want distance from me. I had your place aired and dusted, and told Hugo to let you know as soon as you arrived in case it was an option you’d like to have.”
She shook her head and smiled ruefully. “I had lunch with Hunt. He thinks I should move back home, anyway. He thinks I lost myself.”
Ben kept his expression and tone neutral. “You called him to talk about us instead of waiting to talk to me?”
She shrugged and looked toward the open patio doors to the nearby foothills. “I thought he could tell me what you want. How things are supposed to be.”
“I see.” Something cold settled in his chest.
“Ben, c’mon. He’s my friend, you know that.”
“So you say. This is a friend you’ve never seen naked?”
“Of course, I have,” she said with a huge grin. “So have you!” She laughed at his expression. “Ben, he’s Miranda Devers favorite cover boy!”
Devers was the top-selling erotic romance author for RedDeer, Hart Enterprises eRom publishing company. Ben had thoroughly checked out Dane when they’d met. He knew the cop worked with a stock photo photographer to supplement his income.
“No he isn’t. I see all her covers. I’d have recognized him.”
“He doesn’t show his face when he does nude stuff. Check the covers of Devers’ Stone series. Hunt’s always been Deke Stone.”
He grabbed his phone.
“Oh my god, you don’t believe me!” Avia sank down on his bed, wondering what the hell had happened to them.
“Maybe you shouldn’t believe him,” Ben said grimly, holding out the phone showing the cover of the latest Stone series. “No tattoos.”
“I said he was always Deke Stone. Like when she first started. When he was nineteen. He didn’t have the tattoo then. They airbrushed it out later.”
He eyed her coldly. “How do you know it’s him, then? If you haven’t seen him naked in person?”
The hurt was too deep for Avia to respond. She knew she should leave, but she couldn’t bear to.
He cocked his head at her. “So. How does it feel? Not being trusted.”
“What?”
“You went to someone else to tell you what I want?” He crossed his arms over his wide chest. “Stand up.”
She rose. Her eyes flicked over his body. He’d been dressing when she came in ad was bare-chested, his jeans unbuttoned, his belt loose.
“You seem to have forgotten that I already told you how things will be. A long time ago. When I was inside you. Remember?”
"You will obey me, you will submit to me, now, tonight, tomorrow, any hour, any day. Do you understand?"
"Yes," she whispered.
His thumb began to jack the stem of her clit. She panted harshly in her need to come and keep still as she’d been told. "Say it. The whole thing," he ordered, still hard, unrelenting.
Her face went pink, and her vagina rippled. "I'll obey you and …ah .. ah ... submit to you ... ah ... uh … always, any time, anything … because … you made me, you'll always make me, I have to."
She was panting, and her cunt squeezed around him, pouring heat and moisture.
"Yes," he said. "I make you obey; I make you submit. Any time, anywhere, in everything I wish. I'll touch you when I want the way I want as long as I want, and you will submit. When I tell you to lift your skirt because it pleases me right then to pull down your panties and pink your ass, you will obey. If I tell you to sit or stand or kneel or crawl, you will do as I bid with no argument. Because you have no choice. What does that make me, Avia?"
Ben saw her eyes go hazy and dark. A sexual flush bloomed on her cheeks.
“I see you do remember,” he said. “Spread.”
She looked startled and whimpered a little as she worked her feet apart to shoulder-width.
He closed the distance between them in a single step and caught her gaze in his own hard stare. “You defied me this morning. In the end, you did as you were told. Why?”
He saw her struggle with how deeply she hated saying what she had to say, but her nipples were hard, poking at the fabric of her blouse. He ran a knuckle over one and grasped the buckle of his belt with the other hand. She gasped at the contact and eyed his hand, his thumb stroking the top of the brass.
“You… made me obey you.”
“How?” He let go of the belt and unbuttoned her blouse.
She closed her eyes. “You punished me.”
He saw the muscles of her belly clench and knew her vagina spasmed with the words. He folded the cups of her bra under and took each furled bud in his fingers, gently squeezing.
“Watch,” he ordered.
Her breaths came faster, with the thin, soft whistle that accompanied her deepening arousal. She looked down at his fingers and he felt her body shudder.
“What am I for you?” He pinched her harder, rolling the hard peaks slightly while she watched, unrestrained by anything but his will.
She groaned. Her hips undulated, her head moved slightly back and forth. She looked past his fingers to his erection, the head of his substantial cock free of the top of his black briefs. His fingers tightened and twisted.
“My Master!”
He grabbed a fistful of her hair, holding her up as the orgasm rippled through her, harder with her legs open, and ultimately, as he knew, unsatisfying. He kept one nipple between his fingers, squeezing hard while her core spasmed over a frustrating emptiness, her asshole throbbed and her cheeks burned where he’d punished her with belt and hand.
Ben Hart knew how a woman�
�s body worked. How Avia’s worked. Her admissions humiliated her into coming. His omissions made her want more. More of what he was and how he made her feel.
He let her go and stepped back. She swayed but stayed on her feet.
“Good girl,” he said because he knew it would spark her rebellion and affirm his control. “Hands in back.”
She clasped her hands behind her. The action raised her chest and rubbed her sensitive nipples against the loose fabric of her blouse. She winced.
Turning away from her, he went to his dresser and took some time pulling on an undershirt and selecting a warm sweater for the trip. Helicopters were drafty.
When his throbbing dick calmed, he tucked himself in and finished dressing. He threw his leather jacket on the bed and set his travelling bag next to it. Settling into an armchair, he pointed to the floor between his feet.
Avia moved to him and dropped to her knees.
“Sit back, arms at ease, pay attention … good. That was a bit of datamining,” he began. “Every response confirms to me that you’re a natural submissive and masochist and that you crave what I am and what I want to be to you. That said, you can also crave sweets but want a healthy, slender body more and not eat them.
“This is where we were when everything went to hell overnight for both of us. For weeks, I couldn’t bear having you out of my sight. For months, while you healed, I don’t think you felt safe out of it. Everything else went away. All there was, was being together.”
Avia’s brows pulled together. But she remained quiet.
“If you think I’m saying that was a wrong thing, I’m not,” he assured her. “It was what we both needed. The wrong part was not knowing when to shift back, resume a more normal Dominant/submissive relationship. You said I should teach you, and I let that slide. Today you sent me a signal. You pushed me until I punished you. And you were perfect.”
He smiled at the look of surprise and reached out to cup her cheek.
“You accepted my decision. You took your punishment as well as could be expected the first time since you wouldn’t know to expect your body to take action on its own. It was a minor chastisement, but with no reassurance afterward. Still, you came back and you were yourself: in my face, but always willing to hear me. Be with me the way we’ve always been. You are everything I want.”