The Effing List

by Cherise Sinclair

  “Last week?” she asked suspiciously. “Oh, don’t even try to act innocent. You planned to have this discussion.”

  “Well, yeah.” He ran his hand down her arm. “I know you’re on birth control, and our test results were negative. I don’t screw around—I consider us to be together.”

  Together. Such a lovely word.

  With a happy sigh, she shook her head and…spit on it all, started back with the exercising torture.

  Push-ups sucked. She managed two standard ones before surrendering and doing the rest of the push-ups from her knees.

  Finished with her goal, she collapsed to the floor on her belly and let out a high, exhausted, “Woohoo!” Two real push-ups! When she’d started, she could barely manage one from her knees.

  Serious progress.

  She felt good. And really, being streamlined, wrinkle-free, and young wasn’t an achievable goal. Healthy? That she could do.

  And that was what she would do.

  Rolling over onto her back, she stared up at the ceiling. Last night, she’d been in floaty-land when Ghost quizzed her about why she’d backed away from him. But she did remember what she’d said.

  It was true her parents had made her feel unworthy. Once in the States, she’d realized she was pretty. In the military and later, she took jobs where her worth wasn’t measured in appearance. Where her sense of esteem had soared.

  So, she’d been fine, right up until Barry and his slaves had sliced her self-image to pieces.

  And she’d allowed it to happen.

  She rolled her eyes. I should have left when I realized he was all about Alisha and no longer interested in me.

  Ah, well, hindsight.

  But the damage was done, and she still had some work to do to restore her internal balance. She needed to accomplish it quickly.

  Ghost liked that discipline stuff way too much.

  The late morning sun glinted off the puddles left by the night’s rain. Such pretty sparkles. At any other time, Natalia would have been grabbing her paints. Today, though?

  Glaring, she drove straight through the puddle.

  And then felt like crying because…did puddles have feelings?

  She was one hot mess.

  Her eyes were red and puffy from sobbing fits all night long. Her toes hurt from kicking everything in sight.

  Since she’d spent the night in a fellow artist’s attic, her tantrums hadn’t disturbed her friend’s sleep. And she’d been able to cover a gift canvas with angry red and black blotches.

  Her friend had seen the ugly mess, winced, and given Natalia a sympathetic hug.

  As she parked her car outside her small duplex, she felt emptied. Her drama was done. The hopes she’d clung to were gone, too.

  Olivia had thought she’d cheated on her. God.

  It was time to move on with her life, somehow, rather than hoping Olivia would change her mind.

  “Cheating.” She shut the engine off. “Didn’t she know me at all?” That hurt more than anything.

  Swinging her purse over her shoulder, she headed for the house, gaze on the ground. The broken and uneven paving stones in the coarse St. Augustine grass required her attention, or she’d trip and break her neck.

  At the last stone, she looked up and gasped.

  In jeans and a sleeveless denim shirt, Mistress Olivia sat at the top of the three-step landing. Her elbows rested on her thighs as she watched Natalia with an unreadable expression.

  Natalia stared at her. “What are…” No. She didn’t want to know why the Mistress was here. “I’m sorry I caused a fuss at the club. Now, if you don’t mind, please leave me alone.”

  Taking a step back, she gestured toward the street.

  “No.” Leaning forward, Olivia held out her phone. “Here. Check this out.”

  Natalia sighed. The display would probably show that Master Z had canceled her Shadowlands membership. Even though she planned to quit, her heart sank.

  “Fine.” Natalia checked the screen. It wasn’t an email. Or a text.

  It was a photo. Two naked women in bed. The one on top was using a strap-on on the other woman. The one on the bottom had her arms bound to the headboard, and…

  “It’s me.” Natalia stared. “That can’t be me. I’ve never… That can’t be me, but it is.”

  Olivia ran her hand through her spikey pale hair. “It’s a Photoshop trick, love.”

  “Why?” Natalia whispered.

  Closing her eyes for a moment, Olivia made a growling sound. “When Chelsey told me you were cheating on me, I didn’t believe her. Then she showed me this photo, and bugger it, Nats, I went barmy.”

  Chelsey had done what?

  Olivia’s hazel eyes, more brown than green today, gleamed with tears for a second. “I’m sorry. I can understand if you don’t forgive me, but I wanted you to know how it happened. And to apologize. I’m so sorry.”

  Natalia felt as if her brain had broken. The picture. Chelsey.

  Olivia.

  Here. Apologizing.

  What was she supposed to do? Her legs started to wobble, to buckle.

  Olivia sprang up and caught her around the waist, then used both arms to hold her up.

  Dropping her head against the Mistress’s shoulder, Natalia breathed in the clean, warm scent, like a warm day in autumn. The arms around her were strong. The Mistress wouldn’t let her fall.

  “Sit, girl.” After settling Natalia on the top step, Olivia tried to move back. And couldn’t.

  Natalia realized she was clinging. Oh God, she was so confused. “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

  Olivia snorted. “No, poppet, you’re using my line.” She shook her head. “I kicked you out and didn’t even explain. Or let you talk.”

  She hadn’t, had she. Oh look, here’s some anger that hadn’t drained in my temper tantrums. Natalia scowled at the woman she thought loved her. “I noticed. Why?”

  Taking a seat on the lowest step, Olivia wrapped her hand around Natalia’s bare ankle.

  Natalia could feel the warmth, the calluses. Her Mistress’s hand. The longing shook her deep inside.

  “I…” With a sigh, Olivia shook her head. “I have no good excuse.”

  Natalia hardened her heart although her voice shook as she forced out the word, “Try.”

  Olivia’s jaw tightened, before she nodded. “Fair.”

  Natalia waited. The Mistress rarely shared her past.

  “It’s like this, Nats. Every lover I’ve been with eventually cheated on me, one after we’d been together for three years. Since submissives obviously couldn’t be faithful, I swore off monogamous relationships. Then I met you.”

  Natalia felt her breathing stop.

  “We—we were so perfect together, and I trusted you. I knew you would never lie to me.”

  Oh God, no wonder. Natalia whispered, “Then Chelsey showed you that picture and told you I was like your previous girls. A cheater.”

  To Natalia’s shock, Olivia’s eyes reddened with tears. “I hurt you badly. I’m sorry.”

  Unable to answer, Natalia stared at her hands.

  One evening, in the Shadowlands, Natalia had heard Ghost telling a new member that if a submissive was hurt, her Dom would feel like shit—because he’d failed in his duty to keep her safe.

  How much worse was it if the Domme herself delivered the blow?

  Lifting her head, Natalia looked at the Mistress—really looked at her.

  Olivia had dark circles under her eyes, her hair was a mess, her clothing wrinkled. “Were you here all night?”

  Olivia shrugged.

  Yes, then, she had been.

  The Domme’s clothing was loose. She’d obviously lost weight in the last month or so. Her tan had faded. The lines in her face were deeper.

  Natalia bit her lip. “Is it bad I can see I’m not the only one who’s been unhappy since we broke up?”

  After a sharp bark of laughter, Olivia shook her head. “I’ve missed you so bloody much.” She p
ulled in a breath. “Every day.”

  Natalia almost didn’t recognize the feeling swelling inside her.

  Happiness.

  She swallowed. Could…could they go back to… “Um. Want to come inside and explain how my face got in the picture? Maybe?” A quiver of hope ran through her.

  The same hope appeared in Olivia’s eyes.

  Natalia leaned forward.

  The kiss was soft, tender, questioning. Olivia pulled back far enough to whisper, “You shouldn’t forgive me…but I love you so much.”

  “Well, I guess I could beat on you for a while.” Natalia tried to smile, but she really, really hoped it would be the reverse.

  A glint appeared in Olivia’s eyes. Her voice was soft and level, as she said, “Yes, love. Let’s go inside and see who beats on whom.”

  When Valerie had returned to Ghost’s place later that day, he’d wanted to work out. Since she’d already done her own exercises, he gave her a self-defense lesson.

  It was amazing how many ways there were to hurt someone.

  After the lesson, her reward was to use the punching bags Ghost had hung in the weight room. She felt like such a kick-ass when she drove her fist into the person-sized sandbag. Although he kept telling her she wasn’t putting enough muscle into it.

  Men.

  After her shower, she stayed commando and simply pulled on lightweight cotton drawstring pants and a scoop-neck, loose T-shirt.

  In the dining room, Ghost stood in front of the arched window, watching the rain. Even with his back to her, he seemed to radiate authority. His hands were interlocked behind his back, callused palms facing her. An officer’s stance.

  He looked so…alone.

  “Are you all right?” she asked softly as she took a seat on the couch.

  He turned, and his eyes lightened. “I’m always better when you’re here.”

  Couldn’t he just melt a girl’s heart?

  He’d already set out a glass of wine and a bottle of beer on the coffee table, and he sat down beside her.

  The tall windows were open, letting in the moist offshore breezes with a trace of perfume from the tropical flowers. The sound of rain was a soft pattering, accompanied by the low rumble of thunder. It felt so…right, simply to share a quiet evening with him.

  He picked up her hand and curled her fingers around the wine glass. “I thought you might like this red.”

  The merlot was smooth and soft with a lingering plummy taste. “It’s perfect.” She took another sip, then frowned. “You sound hoarser than normal.”

  His laugh was rueful. “I was passing an accident where a pickup had smashed the rear of a sedan. The driver—a drunk guy in a suit—was bellowing at the other driver, a tiny woman who was probably about eighty. And…I might have yelled at him for a while.”

  “Of course you did.” Laughing, Valerie shook her head, then eyed him. “I noticed you have some scars on your neck. Did your vocal cords get injured? Is that why you get hoarse?”

  “Good guess. Back in my first days with Special Forces, I ended up too close to an explosion. Whatever hit me fractured my larynx. The vocal cords caught some damage, then picked up scar tissue, too. Could’ve been worse. I had good surgeons, so I have a voice”—he ran his hand over the scars on his neck and grinned—“and can still yell at assholes.”

  He really was amazing. The only response she could find was to trail kisses from his jaw and down his neck. The explosion could so easily have killed him.

  Eventually, she settled back against him and drank some of the wine he’d brought out because he knew what she liked. “So, speaking of assholes, do you think Wrecker will give up on trying to get revenge now?”

  Brows drawn, Ghost sipped his beer as he thought. “Difficult to say. The manager job is only part-time, so the loss shouldn’t affect him much. However, if his ego is tied up in being a Dom, he’ll hate having lost access to the club. All the clubs.”

  Gods, she really hoped Scott would leave well enough alone.

  “Thank you again for what you did.” Ghost took her hand and kissed her fingers.

  She moved her shoulders. “I’ve been wondering. Why do you feel as if what happened with Faylee was your fault? I can see you think that.”

  His face went still. “Yes, I should explain.”

  At the pain in his voice, she ran her hand through his dark gray hair. Cut in a short no-nonsense style, his hair had the wavy softness of a sheep’s fleece. “Ghost—Finn, you don’t have to tell me any of this.”

  “No, if you’re playing with me, you need to know I can make mistakes.” A muscle flexed in his cheek. “Since I’d seen Faylee around, I knew she was a masochist and experienced enough to know what she liked. She said she was a pain slut and wanted to be restrained and whipped hard enough to leave lines—and it’s not an unusual request. But when she asked to be pushed, I refused since pushing boundaries isn’t something to get into with pick-up play. During the negotiations…hell, I was struggling with being there without Kelly.”

  How he must have hurt. Missing his wife and trying to move on. It’d taken him a year. Then Valerie blinked. “Wait… Do you feel guilty because you didn’t catch her lie?”

  “I should have seen it,” he growled. “My head wasn’t completely in the game.

  Of course it hadn’t been. And Faylee had pulled a sneaky trick with spilling her drink.

  Ghost wouldn’t accept her sympathy, so maybe she’d poke the bear instead to get him past this sticking point. “I guess Doms aren’t allowed to be human. I suppose I should address you as Supreme Power?”

  His eyes held surprise, then narrowed.

  “That would be a fine start, yes.” He set his beer down with a thump—all the warning she had before he yanked her, belly-down, over his legs. “Presumptuous mortal, you must learn to be respectful.”

  Three not-very-stinging swats hit her tender butt.

  “Ow!” Only it didn’t really hurt.

  His unmoved expression indicated he didn’t believe her in the least.

  And she started to giggle.

  With a grumbling sound, he sat her up and pulled her into his arms. “I beat on the woman, and she giggles. You’re killing my ego.” Chuckling, he murmured, “Fuck, I love you.”

  She froze, and her breath caught in her throat.

  “Such an expression.” He cupped her chin, watching her face. “Too soon?”

  Breathe, Valerie. “You’re serious?”

  His eyes turned soft. “Yes, Dr. Winborne, I’m profoundly serious. I love you.” His thumb stroked her cheek.

  “But… I didn’t want a relationship.”

  He chuckled. “Oops?”

  Even as her heart swelled with joy, his unapologetic smile made her laugh. “I suppose if I say I still don’t want a relationship, you’d say you’ll wait?”

  He tilted his head. “Sometimes patience is needed to win a war.” He firmly gripped her hair and tilted her head back. “As it happens, I’m an expert at strategic planning.”

  His mouth covered hers in a slow, provocative kiss. One that left her boneless.

  He pulled back far enough to look into her eyes. “Now, tell me the truth, woman.”

  The words left her in a long sigh. “I love you.”

  When his lips curved up, she blinked, tried to scowl, and laughed. “You… Yes, I really do. uHibbuka,” she murmured in Arabic. I love you.

  “Thank you, ya amar.”

  My moon—saying she was beautiful. She sighed and tilted her face for another kiss. And another.

  Eventually, when she was purely boneless, he let her go.

  “Now, let’s discuss.” He leaned forward and picked up his beer, then realized it was empty. His grumpy frown made her grin.

  Without a word, he set the bottle back down. He rarely had more than one beer in an evening.

  Still…how could she not offer another and have another chance to tease him? “Oh, my Supreme Power, let this unworthy one fetch you a fre
sh drink.”

  She said the whole thing without laughing.

  His head turned as if on a swivel, and he pinned her with a disbelieving gaze. “Again? I get the feeling my professor is craving an extended amount of discipline.”

  Her mouth went dry…and every nerve in her body sparked to life.

  * * *

  Ghost was surprised—and pleased—as Valerie’s eyes dilated and red rose from her neck into her face. “Well, well, well. Far be it from me to turn down such an interesting request.”

  Her swallow was audible. “I…didn’t request anything.”

  “But you did.” He rose, took her hand, and pulled her into the bedroom. A twist of the wall rheostat set the Moroccan lanterns to a low glow. The light scent of sandalwood from the infuser drifted in the air.

  Hearing the music, she tilted her head and smiled.

  “I thought you’d enjoy it.” He’d put together a very sensual Middle Eastern playlist, and now, over the hidden speakers came the rhythm of the dumbek with the clear tones of the zumara and mizmar.

  Smiling, he pulled her soft shirt up and over her head, baring her upper body. Unable to resist, he fondled one breast, then the other. “I’m going to have so much fun with these tonight.” Under his palms, the nipples bunched into delectable peaks.

  In her wide eyes, anticipation warred with anxiety.

  Perfect.

  He backed her to the bed. A few days before, he’d stocked the big nightstand on his side with interesting toys for her. The Velcro cuffs went on her wrists. After checking the fit, he hooked them together in front of her.

  “Now, I want you to sit here quietly and await the orders of your Supreme Power.” Supreme Power. He’d known she had a quiet brat streak.

  Tipping her chin up, he took another quick kiss, then pinched the tips of her breasts, watching to see when she reached the border of pain.

  In a while, he’d take her to that edge…and keep going.

  * * *

  Sit quietly? Valerie stared at the Colonel. Was he insane?

  From his nightstand, he pulled out what he called toys.

  Who in the world came up with the notion a cane was a toy?