The Effing List

by Cherise Sinclair

  As attention shifted back to Ghost, he considered them all. “I would have conditions.” He spoke to the Masters and Mistresses, not Z. “The hired dungeon monitors weren’t invested in the club and did the minimum necessary.”

  “We sure saw their lack of involvement last night,” Nolan grumbled.

  “More than that, our members should learn there’s a give-and-take in belonging to this club. The Shadowlands isn’t a nightclub, it’s a community.”

  Nods showed him they were following.

  “But people need examples of how to give back. I’d like you all to take dungeon monitor shifts again. I’ll hold DM classes to grow a volunteer pool. You’ll get apprentices for hands-on training. Eventually, the time I need you to put in will decrease.”

  “Fair enough,” Marcus said. “I’m in.”

  The rest agreed.

  One down. “The second condition is much the same. I want you each to teach a class every other month and to mentor less experienced Doms when you’re here. Our newer Doms need role models—which means all of us need to show up more often.”

  Galen nodded. “He’s right. It’s what we owe to the club.”

  After glancing around the table, Cullen said, “We’re in for your second condition, as well. Z?”

  “I approve.” Z smiled. “We have a consensus and a good start. Thank you, Ghost.”

  Ghost eyed him. “You’re not off the hook, Master Z. You don’t have to be a dungeon monitor, but you’ll make up for it by giving extra demonstrations. Jessica will enjoy some time in the dungeon, I’m sure.”

  The room burst into laughter because Z’s adorable submissive hated being put on display.

  Ghost rubbed his lips and wondered how Valerie would feel about it.

  He’d undoubtedly see her on campus, and then the ball would be in her court.

  Unless—and until—she handed it to him.

  Chapter Eight

  Monday afternoon, Valerie spotted Ghost walking across the campus.

  The entire world seemed to get brighter, and wasn’t that crazy? She wasn’t some naive sixteen-year-old with a crush.

  Honestly, her heart really was beating faster. Holding her breath, she waited for him to notice her.

  The sun glinted on his gunmetal gray hair. Her fingers remembered how the short curls were smooth and slightly springy.

  Resilient, much like his personality. Whatever disaster overtook him, he’d bounce back.

  He already had. Now she knew what to look for, she could see his left leg wasn’t as flexible as the right. Yet, his stride was balanced and powerful.

  Her hands clenched with the desire to touch him.

  Noticing her, he paused.

  When she lifted her hand to acknowledge him, he veered her way, and oh, she really did like his easy smile. “Valerie. You appear well.”

  “Thank you.” She glanced around. No one was within hearing distance. “Were there any problems with the manager? Did he get fired? You didn’t get in trouble, did you?”

  “Let’s see. No problems, he was terminated, and on the contrary.”

  She laughed, trying to remember her last question. “What can be contrary to getting in trouble?”

  “I ended up saddled with his job.” He grinned, obviously not worried about the responsibility. Then again, if anyone was born to take charge, it would be this man.

  This Dom.

  “Well, there’s an improvement. Are you resigning from the University?”

  “No, I like teaching. But I only work part-time as a professor, and the manager position is also part-time.”

  “I thought you had a full load of classes.”

  “Actually, I had only been thinking about going fulltime. Then, at the end of January, a professor had a heart attack, and the administration drafted me to teach one of his classes.” He gave a wry laugh. “He was already behind. Between catching up with his students’ ungraded exams and homework and preparing lectures, I was swamped all through February.”

  “Oh dear. Those kinds of surprises are never good.”

  “And thus, I learned I enjoy free time too much to sacrifice it all to teaching.”

  “With managing the club, your free hours are going to be a fantasy.”

  “I don’t mind spending time at the Shadowlands, and honestly, having seen the mess Wrecker created, I’m itching to fix it. In fact, I’m interviewing new security guards tonight.”

  “Ah, new security because the girls shouldn’t have been able to get in if the guard had been conscientious?”

  “Exactly.” A crease appeared in Ghost’s cheek as he smiled down at her. “As it happens, I also talked the owner into offering one-month probationary memberships. The application process will still be in force, the orientation class will still be mandatory, but the either side can back out during the first month.”

  “The Shadowlands is already able to terminate a membership at will.”

  “I might have known you’d have read all the contract verbiage.” He tugged a lock of her hair. “Very good, Professor. Unfortunately, quite a few people don’t read what they sign and are upset when their membership is canceled. But the probationary time will make it clear there’s a trial period. Maybe it will entice more people like you into giving the club a chance.”

  She snickered. “Instead of handing out free night tickets?”

  “The coupon was a disaster waiting to happen, letting newbies into the club with no precautions or explanations of the rules. However, it’s good to offer a way for new members to back out if the place doesn’t meet their needs.”

  “Linda said the owner never enforced the year-long contract if someone wanted to quit.”

  “He doesn’t and still won’t. But this will let people sample the place with an easy out.”

  She frowned. “I suppose so.”

  “Tempted?”

  She was. She’d filled the application out already. The membership fees were what had given her pause. A month would give her a chance to see if she liked it enough to make it fit into her budget.

  Only…

  “Will it bother you if I’m a member?” And what a stupid question. Why would he even think twice about her?

  Ghost could probably have any submissive in the club simply by snapping his fingers.

  He moved closer, the smallest amount. Just enough to invade her space. “I’d be very pleased. I won’t harass you to play with me if that’s what you were obliquely asking. If you want another scene, I’ll be delighted, but you’ll have to ask me. Or simply fetch me whatever paddle you’d enjoy being used on your pretty ass.”

  Heat flashed through her, rousing her. Making her long for exactly that.

  In a casual move, he squeezed her shoulder, then his grip tightened to the edge of painful, reminding her of his powerful hands, his touch, the burning of her ass.

  That he was a sadist who could fill her needs.

  All her needs.

  Damn the man.

  “You’ll start Friday night. I’ll see you then.” Later, at a second desk that had appeared in the Shadowlands office, Ghost shook hands with the young man and escorted him out.

  A transgender man, Fyodor Koslov was in the process of transitioning, which might cause some absences, but he had the right experience and sense of professionalism that Ghost—and Z—wanted. Ex-military, black belt in Krav Maga, working at a gym in Tampa.

  Yes, he would do.

  Re-entering the club, Ghost saw Andrea perched on a barstool. Noises from the back hallway indicated her cleaning crew was still at work. “Were you waiting for me?”

  “Yes.” She smiled. “I’m so glad you’ve taken over the management.”

  The sentiment from Cullen’s submissive was a fine compliment. “Thank you. With everyone’s help, we should be able to bring the club back to what we all love. Is there anything I can do to make things easier for your cleaning crew to get back up to speed?”

  One of the first calls he’d made was t
o re-hire Andrea’s cleaning service.

  “We’re good. I need to talk to you about something else.” Her smile disappeared. “When Wrecker came on as manager, he and his friends were using the Shadowlands as their personal dungeon during the nights it was closed. I warned him that equipment was being broken and the rooms left dirty. The next morning, he ended our contract and hired a different cleaning service.”

  Having seen Cullen’s face in the Masters’ meeting, Ghost couldn’t resist. “I’m surprised your Master didn’t get involved.”

  She averted her gaze. “I…um…didn’t tell him?”

  Guilty submissives were so adorable. Already knowing the answer, he set his hand on her shoulder. “Please, tell me he knows now.”

  “Sí, he does. I told him Saturday night.” She flushed. “I just didn’t want mi Señor upset over something he couldn’t fix, but he didn’t agree.”

  “No Dom would.” Ghost tried to hold his laugh in and failed.

  Her glare made him laugh even harder.

  She took up a paper from the bar and slapped it into his hand. “This is a list of missing items and broken equipment, damaged flooring and carpets, and plumbing problems. Most of the locations are the private rooms on the second floor.”

  Her list was a spreadsheet. Date, location, problem, when reported and to whom, follow-up dates. The damages she’d reported to Wrecker back in January hadn’t been fixed. And she’d added a hell of a lot of new problems today.

  Wrecker had truly abused the management position.

  “Give me a second, please.” Ghost pulled out his phone and added a note to call a plumber as well as Z’s repair guy. Some repairs he could handle himself; others required more expertise. “I’ll get these taken care of. Thanks for the detailed list; it makes things easier. I’ll give a copy to Z if you haven’t already.”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t want to add to his worries.”

  “You’re thoughtful, but now he’s back, he needs to know.” Ghost smiled at her. “He looks good, Andrea. I’m sure he was stressed, stuck in Europe with an injured and ill mother. But he was also away from his practice and basically forced to rest.”

  “I’m glad he’s caught up on sleep—since they’ll have a new baby all too soon.” The worry in her expression gave way to a grin. “Jessica is whining about resembling a watermelon.”

  A snort escaped him. Z’s submissive was adorable…and very short.

  “Since we need you to survive and be the manager, I won’t tell her you laughed.” Andrea grinned.

  “Thank you,” he said, quite sincerely.

  As she returned to work, he headed for the private rooms upstairs to do his own inventory. Halfway up, his cell rang.

  A check of the display showed “Drake.” Excellent. It’d been a while since he’d spoken to the owner of Chains, a Seattle BDSM club. “Drake, how are you?”

  “I’m doing well, thank you.” The smooth, deep voice still held a touch of a French accent. “Congratulations on your added responsibilities. Zachary picked wisely. And I’m pleased he managed to get you back into the lifestyle.”

  Ghost snorted. “His rep as a shrink is well-earned—as are his manipulative talents. How’d you hear about the management position?”

  “Max and I talk, now and then.”

  “Ah. He’s a good Dom, although he and Alastair chose a challenging submissive. Zuri keeps them on their toes.” Ghost grinned.

  Last month, Max had angered her, and she’d squirted blue food coloring into his showerhead, thinking he’d have time for it to fade in the two days he was off. Unfortunately, the detective got called in for a homicide.

  Gave new meaning to the phrase: the boys in blue.

  “Sassy subs are the best kind.” Drake hesitated. “Speaking of submissives…”

  There was only one submissive Drake might hesitate to speak of. Uneasiness lodged in Ghost’s chest. It’d been over two years.

  Had she followed through on her threats? “Go on.”

  Drake, being a perceptive Dominant, probably heard Ghost’s worry. “Non, non, I have been clumsy. I simply wanted you to know Faylee is healthy and happy.”

  The young woman was all right.

  Ghost shook his head to regain his balance. “Thank you. It’s good to hear.” He’d never forgiven himself for the damage he’d done. The mess hadn’t been all his fault, but that wasn’t something a man weighed out on a scale. Damage was damage.

  “And you, too, are moving on from the past. Soldier to professor. Now manager after having been awarded Z’s infamous Master title, hein?”

  Ghost laughed. “Infamous?”

  “But this means you are playing again, because the title indicates both power and experience, not something to be measured in a void. Are the Florida women more beautiful than our northwest beauties?”

  Drake, for all his elegant sophistication, loved gossip as much as the nosiest of neighbors.

  Ghost smiled. There were days he missed Seattle. “Yes, they are. Have you found yourself a submissive yet?”

  “Non, non, not me. And you?”

  The thought of Valerie came to mind. The feel of her in his hands. The sounds she made when he hurt her, as she slid into arousal. As she came. Willing and responsive and warm. “No, the one I’m interested in wants no relationships.”

  “Ah, one of those.” Drake clicked his tongue. “Have hope, my friend. As you have learned, wounds do heal, and life will balance out again. Don’t give up on her.”

  “No,” Ghost narrowed his eyes. “Giving up isn’t in my vocabulary.”

  Chapter Nine

  Under a beach umbrella, Valerie sat on the sand and played with her grandson, the love of her life. Out in the water, her daughter was swimming and splashing and undoubtedly enjoying a few minutes to herself.

  Valerie remembered when her two were toddlers. Alone time didn’t happen.

  “Did!” Luca’s big brown eyes lifted, and he waved his shovel in the air with a crow of accomplishment.

  “Is your bucket full?” Valerie smiled. “It is. Excellent work, my man. Shall we dump it together?”

  The damp sand in the bucket went on top of the growing pile, and they patted it to smoothness.

  Valerie glanced at the sun and sighed. Her time with Luca and Hailey was almost over.

  Such a lovely afternoon. Her daughter had driven over from Orlando for a computer programming class, and Valerie had volunteered to babysit Luca.

  After class, Hailey, a total beach girl, had wanted to take Luca to wade in the Gulf of Mexico.

  Happy for more time with her precious daughter and grandson, Valerie agreed.

  Smiling, she checked in the cooler and pulled out a baggie of orange wedges from her daughter’s backyard tree. She ate one and grinned when Luca reached out a sandy hand, remembered, and opened his mouth like a baby bird.

  “You’re such a smart boy,” she praised and popped a slice in his mouth.

  Bouncing a time or two, he chewed, accepted another orange wedge, then started filling the bucket again.

  “You’re a very hard worker. Just like your mama,” Valerie told him.

  Drops of cold water splattered down on them as Hailey arrived and shook her hair. Luca burst into giggles, the most infectious sound in the world, and Valerie laughed.

  “San’,” Luca pointed to the pile.

  “Yes, it is. You have a most awesome pile of sand,” Hailey said solemnly as she pulled on a cover-up. “Mom, we need to get going, I’m afraid.”

  “Of course.” Valerie rose and started gathering everything together. “I’m so happy you were able to leave Luca with me—and to have a beach trip after.”

  “Me, too.” Hailey frowned. “I’m sorry Dad was too busy with work to see me and Luca today. It’s been quite a while since we visited him.”

  “Mmm,” Valerie said noncommittally.

  “It’s still weird you’re not together. Do you ever talk or anything?”

  “No.
I haven’t spoken to him since the day I went over to get your boxes.”

  “Oh. Right. Thank you for picking them up.” Hailey shook her head. “I can’t remember the last time I was at the house, actually. Then again, without you there, it’s probably a mess. Dad was never much of a housekeeper.”

  And neither were Barry’s two slaves.

  Valerie could feel her daughter’s gaze.

  Her soft-hearted child wanted her parents to get back together. Unlike some children of divorce, neither Hailey nor Dillon had seen Valerie and Barry fighting. The vague explanations of “We grew apart” hadn’t satisfied either child. Barry certainly wouldn’t tell them about his slaves—and had asked Valerie not to.

  Last fall, on the rare occasions the children came over, Alisha spent the evening with her family in St. Pete. Kahlua, though, had thrown a fit at leaving the house to hide her presence, so Barry’s solution had been to avoid having the children visit at all.

  Apparently, he hadn’t changed his method.

  Ah, well, not her problem.

  With Luca chasing the seagulls, the trip to their cars didn’t take long, although there was a brief interlude when a man walking in front of them was berating his wife. Both parents forgot their crying toddler who had sat down in the sand.

  Valerie picked up the girl and waited. The two kept walking. Honestly. “Excuse me! I believe you forgot someone?”

  At her shout, they turned.

  The woman went white. “My baby!” Tears running down her face, the woman ran back and reclaimed her child.

  Valerie turned to the man. “As someone who raised a couple of children, I suggest you postpone fights until your child is safe and out of hearing.”

  The man scowled at her, glanced at his crying wife and girl, then scowled again. “Yeah. Right.”

  As the two hurried away, Valerie gave way to her feelings in a flurry of Arabic.

  “Uh, Mom? Translation, please?”

  Ouch. What she’d said hadn’t been nice. But Luca was occupied with watching a beachcomber with a metal detector. “Roughly, I called him a ringworm-ridden, dickless, son of a donkey then compared him to a filthy, turd-soiled shoe.”