Face it, he simply liked her company—and they’d spent much of last week’s spring break together.
To find a submissive whose kinks matched his own was damn rare. Kelly had enjoyed a minimal amount of pain for a minimal amount of time. At the clubs, with her permission, he’d occasionally flog or whip the masochists who begged, but the satisfaction for him was minor and mostly from knowing he’d helped someone who’d needed the relief.
He’d far preferred the deeper bond of playing with Kelly, even if she was a lightweight.
With Valerie? Being able to play longer, to fill all her needs for pain, submission, and arousal…that was heady stuff.
It was way too damn easy to fall for her.
But she’d been burned in the past. He was going slow, letting her get used to being with him. To sex with a Dominant.
She was worth the slow pace.
Natalia finished cleaning her brushes and put everything away neatly. When she’d moved in with Olivia and kept this tiny apartment as an art studio, she hadn’t worried about being messy.
But now she was once again living and working here, she had to keep it tidy.
For a moment, she studied her latest painting of a marshy area by the Hillsborough River shrouded in a thick fog. The hues were a mournful blue, and the cypress trees almost gray.
The image captured her spirits perfectly. Here was loss; here was loneliness.
Her doorbell rang, and she jumped and spun around as her hopes lifted…and died. The Mistress wouldn’t be at the door.
After checking the peephole, Natalia opened the door. “Mama, what are you doing here?”
“Mija, the neighbor caught a huge tarpon when he was on a fishing charter. He gave us most of it, and I thought you’d enjoy some, too.”
Any little bit would help her budget. “I really would. Thank you.” She hugged her mother.
Her mother tucked the wrapped fish into the fridge, then sniffed the air. Despite the open windows, the turpentine scent lingered from cleaning the brushes, as did the much nicer fragrance of oil paints. “You’re still drawing, I see.”
“Of course. It’s what I do.” Even more than before since she no longer had anything better to do most evenings.
Her mother sat down, frowning at her. “I know you’d like to make a living from your art, but Natalia, you’re not being realistic. Painting isn’t a career choice—it’s a hobby.”
How many times had they had this conversation? “It’s a career to me, Mama. This is what I do and what I want to do with my life.”
“Bartolo is still willing to take you back. You’ll have a job in a nice clean office, regular hours, and he’ll give you the time and money to take accounting classes. He wants you to work for him, mija.”
“I know he does.” Natalia tried to keep her disgust out of her voice and failed. “Because he can employ family cheaper than he can get a real accountant.”
Even worse, she’d have to listen to her uncle and cousins bring out their tired homophobic jokes about lesbians and gays. Cousin Tadeo would drag in guys to hit on her in hopes of turning her straight. For her own good, of course.
“I won’t work for him. However, I am taking a couple of college classes.” She smiled brightly. “Art classes.”
“Art won’t put food on the table.”
“Eventually, it will. I believe that.” Why couldn’t her family believe in her? Because she was the youngest, so they all had to tell her what to do? Because she was too quiet to make a scene like her older sisters?
Her defiance hadn’t been a loud one. Instead, when Bartolo began pressuring her about her choices and her family deliberately interrupted her painting time, she’d simply found this apartment and moved out.
“However, I’m also working as a clerk in a beach store. It’s really fun.” She gave her mother a straight look. “Oddly enough, it pays just as much as Uncle Bartolo was paying me.”
“Natalia…”
“No, Mama. I’m sorry he’s harassing you about my choices, but they’re my choices. I’m an artist and a lesbian. I’m not going to change to make your brother happy.”
Her mother sighed tiredly. “No, you shouldn’t have to change. A child must go her own way. And a mama will worry. That is our prerogative, sí?”
Natalia laughed. “I suppose.”
“Are you still seeing Olivia?” Mama walked over to the wall, studying the paintings.
“No.” The word was a smeary black stripe across the day’s brightness. “We’re not together any longer.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. She seemed nice.”
Even that small amount of sympathy made Natalia’s eyes prickle with tears.
Moving jerkily across the room, Natalia picked up one of the gallery brochures. “By the way, an art gallery in Ybor is having an opening next month for four emerging artists who are painting in the modern-impressionist style. I’m one of them. Here’s the information.”
She handed over the publicity brochure. “If you want to come.”
“A gallery? In Ybor City? Oh, mija, of course I’ll come.” No hesitation, simply a wide smile.
Natalia’s throat clogged. In the club, Olivia had told Ben Haugen about Natalia’s art—and the renowned photographer had recommended her to the gallery owner.
So, even this she owed to Olivia…who wouldn’t attend her special night.
But maybe she’d have someone she knew there. “Thanks, Mama.”
Chapter Fifteen
The bar stank of spilled stale beer and sweat. But the drinks were cheap, something Barry had to consider these days. Dammit.
At the table, Piers was on his left, Scott across from him.
“It still pisses me off how Ghost stole your manager job.” Barry took a hefty swig of his beer.
“That meddling, stick-up-his-ass bastard.” Scott slammed his fist on the table hard enough to rattle the glasses …and silence the other customers. Wrecker was a perfect scene name for him. “My fucking wife’s giving me crap about losing the job, and I have to grin and take it.”
Piers shook his head. “It’s rough when a bitch holds the purse strings.”
“Yeah.” Or when the purse disappeared entirely. Barry scowled. Valerie had brought in a steady paycheck, managed their accounts—and kept his contractor business organized.
He stared at his drink. The bank account was at zero and the credit card maxed out. Wouldn’t be anything coming in, either. He’d lost another job this morning when a finicky old fart of a client had backed out.
“It’d be nice if you could get the club manager job back.” Piers tapped his fingers on the table. “Did I tell you me ‘n’ Buttley got tossed out of the Shadowlands?”
Barry half-smiled at Uttley’s nickname. Then frowned. “Tossed out?”
“What the fuck happened?” Scott straightened.
“We were giving the lezzie-lover spic some shit, and an older bitch tries to stop us. And then your good buddy Ghost and Saxon kicked us out. Said not to come back.” Piers glared at Scott. “You said we’d run that place. And get a lot of pussy, too.”
“Jesus, it’s not Scott’s fault GI Joe caught you. Or that the owner came back from Europe,” Barry said loyally.
“Not my fault, but I know who to blame for me losing the job.” Scott’s eyes darkened with anger. “Fucking Ghost.”
Piers curled his fingers into a fist. “I owe him somethin’ too. Want to ambush him?”
“Yeah, but not in the way you’re thinking.” Scott looked at Barry. “You’re still a member, so how about a whisper campaign? The bastard has a file in the Shadowlands; there’s some good shit about why he left Seattle.”
“Spread gossip?” Barry grinned. “Sure. Me ‘n’ Kahlua will be all over that.”
Chapter Sixteen
In a sitting area, Valerie glanced around the Shadowlands, trying not to be obvious as she watched for Ghost…and hoping not to see Barry or Kahlua.
Linda joined her, then bouncy Sally ca
me over with her friend Zuri, and Valerie was flabbergasted to learn Sally lived with two Doms, and then Zuri said she had two Doms, as well.
“Seriously?” Valerie shook her head at Zuri. “I saw you at the housewarming with two men, but I thought you were only playing around. Both of them?”
Zuri burst out laughing. “Both. I was so not ready for them, but they’re far better than Sally’s. Can you imagine a troublemaker like her hooked up with two former FBI agents?”
“Not a problem.” Sally buffed her fingernails on her shirt. “I have them properly tamed now.”
A black-haired, olive-skinned Dom leaned over the back of Sally’s chair. “Are we discussing taming techniques, baby girl? This should be fun.” The low voice held a pronounced New England accent.
Sally stiffened like a cornered rabbit. “Um, Master Galen, this is a new member, Valerie.”
With what looked like a very firm hand, Galen gripped his submissive’s shoulder even as he smiled at Valerie. “Good to meet you.”
“Galen.” A big fair-skinned Dom walked up. “Did you know Ghost changed up the office room in the back?”
“No. Into what?”
“He’s calling it a fuck-machine festival.”
“Wicked good.” Galen straightened. “As it happens, we have a little pet here who needs taming.”
“Do we now?” Laughing, the bigger man plucked Sally right off her chair, slung her over his shoulder, and the two strolled away.
Despite being upside-down, Sally managed to wave goodbye.
Zuri shook her head. “Bet she’ll be walking bow-legged tomorrow.”
“And I thought one Dom was intimidating,” Valerie murmured.
“One is usually more than enough,” Linda agreed. “By the way, you look great tonight.”
Zuri tilted her head, giving her what seemed like an almost professional appraisal. “Agreed. That’s a perfect style for you.” She grinned at Valerie. “I’m a women’s clothing buyer at Brendalls, and my friends all call for help with choosing outfits. You nailed it.”
“Thank you.” Valerie ran her hands over the red vinyl cheerleader-style skirt she’d bought this morning. Although short, it covered her full butt and upper thighs. The black bustier hauled in her tummy. She felt…sexy.
When she’d walked through the club, some of the Tops cast appreciative glances her way. And wasn’t it shallow to admit she loved the attention? “It’s fun to dress up.”
“Unless it’s a sadist who dresses you.” Linda’s lacey gauze pants were topped by a blue waist-trainer corset. “I think my internal organs have been rearranged. My lungs gave up and died an hour ago.”
“Ouch,” Valerie said in sympathy.
When Zuri snickered, Linda frowned at her. “You’re supposed to feel sorry for me. And he’s planning to flog away the dents the whalebone leaves in my skin.”
“Good grief.” Remember not to let Finn ever pick out clothing.
But he wouldn’t. That wasn’t their kind of relationship, although admittedly, during spring break, when she wasn’t out of town to visit Hailey, they’d spent a lot of time together.
Nonetheless, they had a friendship—with benefits, yes—but it was casual. Sometimes, he’d stop by her office to chat or to take her to lunch. Or she’d bake him cookies or a meal.
After work, he taught her self-defense, and sometimes she’d stay over. There was the time she’d cooked him supper at her place and teased him about something. He’d called her a bad subbie and spanked her. When she’d yelped, he made a tsk-tsk sound, said she couldn’t scream in an apartment because the neighbors would hear. The sadist had gagged her.
Which was good, since he’d made her come twice before he’d taken her, hard and fast.
But then he’d left.
Because what we have is a sexy friendship, not a relationship.
She didn’t want a relationship.
Girl, you’re lying to yourself.
A sigh escaped. No one had ever made her feel like he did. Protected. Cared for. Sure, the sex was amazing—okay, yes, he totally aced the sex stuff—but even better, he listened to her. Understood her. Nothing could be more devastatingly wonderful.
Listening to Zuri teasing Linda about Sam, she watched the flow of people in the room. And spotted Ghost.
Her breath caught in her throat even as her heart rate kicked into high gear. All the confusion disappeared under the wave of pure wanting.
With that distinctive military bearing, he strolled through the room, slowing to assess each scene. Members instinctively moved out of his way, merely from the authority in his presence. But he was liked. He was getting smiles. Questions. People simply wanting to talk. The younger Doms kept stopping him to ask questions.
The women…
Valerie’s lips pressed together. Submissives also stopped him, wanting to talk. Wanting more. The one now was fidgeting with her hair, not quite daring to touch him, but leaning in.
“Ah, there’s the Colonel.” Linda had followed her gaze. “Sam says he’s an incredible Dom—and a good man.” Her tone lifted suggestively.
“He is. But I’m not ready for anything other than”—Valerie shrugged—“than some fun times.”
Zuri lifted her eyebrows. “Does he know?”
“Yes, of course. I told him the first time we played.”
“Mmmhmm.” Linda’s lips twitched. “I have a feeling he can be as determined as Sam. Good luck to you.”
Zuri burst out laughing.
Valerie frowned. It was true both men were sadists. But…Linda’s comment seemed to imply something more. Why exactly did Valerie need luck?
Her thoughts were derailed as a beautiful redhead blocked Ghost’s path. When he shook his head no and started to move away, the woman dropped to her knees, holding her hands up in a plea.
He motioned for her to rise, and they stayed there. Talking.
Valerie’s spirits sank. She knew all too well the power of nubile young flesh.
“Valerie, I have what you ordered.” Natalia dropped into a chair and handed Valerie a bag. “Hey, Zuri, remember the top you recommended? It works great with printing.”
“Ooooh, I want to see.” Zuri leaned forward.
“Certainly.” Valerie held up the garment. The off-white, short-sleeved shirt had such a deep V-neck it needed a fabric strip across the front to keep the shoulders from falling. “SPANK” was printed on one side of the V-neck, “ME” on the other. Below the neck were the words: “I’ve been good.”
“Valerie.” Zuri fanned herself. “If you wear it in here, you won’t be able to sit down for a week.”
“I think that’s the idea.” Natalia snickered. “Let me know how it works out for you, okay?”
“Absolutely.” Valerie tucked the top back in the bag. If she wore tight jeans, she could knot the shirt at the waistband and—
“See, I told you she was here.” Kahlua’s shrill voice stabbed into her ears. “A hag in a bag, right? A fat toad carrying a wide load.”
Valerie stiffened and almost groaned. Barry was with his slave.
With Kahlua clinging to his arm, her ex stalked over. “Val, what the fuck are you doing here?”
Like she was any of his business? She forced a smile. “Ladies, this is Barry, my ex-husband. Barry, this is Natalia. And Linda. Master Sam belongs to her.”
Linda stifled a laugh, undoubtedly at the “belongs to” phrase.
Maybe the mention of influential Masters would keep Barry and Kahlua from being rude—at least to her friends. Valerie motioned to Zuri. “This is Zuri. Master Alastair and Master Max belong to her.”
Oh dear, it seemed she’d left Kahlua out of the introductions. Oops.
“Good evening, Barry,” Linda said in a chill voice. She ignored Kahlua.
Natalia nodded, and Valerie felt a twinge of unhappiness at subjecting the shy young woman to Kahlua’s nastiness.
“Hi.” Narrow-eyed, Zuri studied the two…and Valerie felt a tremor of worry
. Ghost had mentioned Sally, Rainie, and Zuri were known as the Terrible Trio. The brats.
“It’s good to meet you all,” Barry said dismissively and turned his attention back to her. “Why are you here?”
Seriously? “Why, I come for the food, of course. It’s excellent.”
A small sneeze came from either Natalia or Zuri. Linda had more control.
Barry’s face darkened. “Don’t give me that bullshit. You’re here for…for sex.”
“And what if I am?” Unable to help herself, she glanced at Ghost.
Kahlua followed her gaze and snorted scornfully. “You and the silver fox? Get real. He wouldn’t waste his time on a pity fuck.”
The dismissive insult penetrated Valerie’s armor and wedged in painfully.
Pulling in a breath, she tried to shake it off. Ghost had taught her self-defense, but she could hardly ram her knuckles into Kahlua’s throat. Not for a verbal attack.
Barry made a scornful sound. “You don’t belong here, Val. No one is going to play with you. I’d hate to think of our children knowing how desperate you are. Come, Kahlua.” Barry led his slave away.
She watched them head toward the back. I don’t care what Barry thinks of me. So why did it feel as if her self-esteem lay shattered on the floor?
“Man, your ex sucks and the woman? She’s one malicious piece of work.” Zuri’s brown eyes were full of sympathy. “Did you live with her?”
Unable to speak, Valerie nodded.
“I wouldn’t have lasted longer than a day.” Natalia shook her head. “I’m glad you’re away from them.”
Linda patted Valerie’s hand. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
Friends were a treasure. Valerie forced her voice to come out even. “Thank you.”
Tucking her new top back in the bag, she rose. “Since I’m here to play, I probably should pursue that part of the program.
“Are you hooking up with the Colonel later?” Linda asked.
“I…” Valerie glanced toward him.
Head inclined, Ghost had all his attention on the beautiful young submissive who’d knelt for him.
The Effing List Page 19