by Dark, Raven
Nick drew her into his warm embrace. “Get going before your brother decides to drag you from my clutches. See you tomorrow.”
* * *
Twenty minutes later at The Rib House, Ace led her to his favorite booth in the back. Suspicion and irritation with him tightened Gwen’s muscles.
“Ace, why did you bring me here? What do you want?”
He shrugged. “Can’t a brother take his sister to dinner?”
“Yeah right. You never spend any time with me unless you want something.”
A waitress came and Ace ordered for both of them, spaghetti for him and garden salad for Gwen.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Sure you are.” He nodded the waitress away.
Gwen sighed and put a napkin in her lap. She hadn’t eaten since lunch, and the sooner she gave him what he wanted, the sooner she could leave. “So?” She waited for him to start.
Ace reached over and touched her hand. “Serious question, okay?”
“Sure.”
“When was the last time you were out with a guy? Friends don’t count.”
Oh, hell no. She snatched her hand out of his. The waitress dropped off rolls, a beer for Ace, and a water and salad for Gwen. Gwen soaked her salad in ranch dressing instead of answering.
“Hey.” Ace snatched the dressing out of Gwen’s hand and thumped it onto the table. “I got you that salad because you should be watching your weight.”
Ignoring his words, she dumped parmesan and bacon bits on the salad and speared a crouton.
“Come on, Gwen. I wanna know. When was the last time you went out with a guy?”
Three years, not that he needs to know that.
“Look, hear me out. I have a friend on the force. Nice guy, You’d hit it off.”
Another shake of her head before she sipped her water.
“I just want to see you with a nice man in your life. Someone who will treat you right. Isn’t it a brother’s duty to look out for his little sister?”
You mean you want me with someone who’ll keep me in line. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“He’s a good guy. A great cop. And he won’t care that you’re mousy, or that you hardly talk.”
A forced laugh escaped her. She didn’t miss the way he’d said that, as if her shyness was something a man would have to put up with.
“Yeah, right. Remember what happened last time, at that stupid policeman’s ball six months ago? That detective?”
“Frank.” He cocked his head, impatient. “I remember. He’s a good guy, too. He’s just… awkward with girls.”
“Ace, he kept going on about how a woman should behave. And he smelled strange.” She wrinkled her nose. “Like grandma’s attic.”
“That’s why you’re single, Gwen. You’re too picky. You want the perfect man.”
“No. Actually, I’m single because I want to be. When I am ready to have a man, I just want one who won’t treat me like…”
“Like what?” His voice had an edge to it.
“Like an afterthought.” Like you and Dad. At the roll of his eyes, she pulled in a long breath. “The last thing I want is to get involved with someone with what I’m going through right now.”
“What are you talking about?”
She looked at her plate. He didn’t believe me. “The stalker.” She bounced her knee, suddenly unable to sit still.
“Oh, for shit sake, are you still on about that?”
Gwen suppressed a sigh. Buying herself time, she took a bite of salad and chewed slowly, eyes on her plate. She might as well get it over with. “He sent me flowers today.”
Ace swallowed a forkful of spaghetti. “Bring them to me at the station. Let me look them over.”
“Forget it. You didn’t take it seriously when I told you at Christmas, why would I discuss it with you now?”
“I’m a cop. I take all crimes seriously. I told you, I looked into it. No one saw the car that allegedly chased you in that alley.”
Gwen nearly dropped her fork. “Allegedly?”
“None of the cameras caught it, and I told you, the calls can’t be traced on a burner phone without more trouble than I can risk.”
“Oh, yeah. Your precious detective promotion,” she snapped.
He glared. “You filed a report; I investigated and didn’t find anything. I can’t arrest a phantom.”
“A phantom.” She shook her head, taking a sip of her water to wash down a retort.
“Look, Gwen, it’s not that I don’t believe you. But this is Haven, not New York City. Stalking just doesn’t happen here. And even if it did, you’re a military general’s daughter. Anyone who looked into you would find that out fast, and who would go after you then? Dad would kill them.”
Frustration boiled in her. True, Haven wasn’t exactly crime-ridden. Surrounded by mountain ranges, the relative isolation and quiet made it one of those old towns people came to in order to get away from big city life. Still, from what she knew of stalking, it could happen to anyone, anywhere.
When she looked away, he sighed and put down his fork. “You need concrete proof for me to do anything. Have you considered the obvious?”
“What do you mean?” When the waitress stopped by the table, Gwen ordered a double chocolate fudge sundae, ignoring Ace’s scowl.
“I mean, this guy might be connected to your job. Working at the club, you’re surrounded by weirdoes and psychos all day. Are you surprised one of them might have latched onto you?”
Gwen froze with her fork halfway to her mouth. She set it down, her blood heating. “Seriously? Is that what you think BDSM is?”
He shrugged, not looking at her. “You walk into the lion’s den, you’re bound to get bitten, right?”
Disbelief raced through her, mingling with anger. She’d never joined in on a scene, and she hadn’t even gone through the main part of the club more than a handful of times, but it still irked her that he thought that way about people who participated in the lifestyle.
“I knew I shouldn’t have come here with you.” She wiped her hands on a napkin. “I’ll find my own way home.”
The idea of taking the bus home this late made her heart race. It offered too many opportunities for her stalker if he chose to attack her. But Nick had driven her to work, and she wasn’t about to spend any more time with Ace when he got like this.
“Gwen, for fuck’s sake, sit down. You are not going home alone at this time of night. Finish your meal.”
Despite her irritation, an old familiar instinct pulled her to obey. The effort it took to fight it made her heart pound.
“No, I’m done.” She stood up and dug out her wallet, putting the money down for her food and ignoring the sundae the waitress brought. “Besides, you just said nothing happens in this town, right?”
Ace’s eyes flashed and he grabbed her wrist. “Sit down and stop making a scene. And put your fucking money away. I won’t take a woman’s money, you know that.” He glanced around as though it humiliated him to have her pay her own way.
Gwen tried to pull out of his grip, but he didn’t relent. “Ace, let go of me, I’m going home.”
He stood. “Just sit down and let’s talk about this reasonably.”
A tiny voice inside her screamed at her to keep her mouth shut, but she couldn’t.
“Yeah because thinking that people are wacko just because of their lifestyle is reasonable.” Her voice only shook a little.
“Oh, come on. Don’t make me sound like a bigot. We’re talking about people who like beating each other for fun.” He spoke barely above a rasp.
“Sure, Ace.” She slung her purse on her shoulder. “Nice seeing you. Enjoy your meal.”
Anger raged across his face, but she made herself ignore it. She turned and walked out of the restaurant before she could hear his reply.
Once alone outside, Gwen closed her eyes, trying to calm her hammering heart. She’d never been good with confrontation, but that… He’d soun
ded so judgmental. He’d actually blamed her for being stalked. She was going to be sick.
Making her way across the lot toward the bus stop, she glanced around. Why did every car coming in or out of the lot seem to crawl past too slowly, every driver watching her too closely?
Gwen dug her house keys out of her purse, slipping one key between her fingers so that the end stuck out like a spike. If anyone came near her, she’d stab them in the eye.
It wasn’t much, but if she was lucky, Master Archer’s teaching would help her change her odds.
Gwen hurried for the bus that pulled up to the stop. Ace was right about one thing. If she reported the stalking to another cop, he’d likely do the same as Ace had done. He’d blame her.
Seated on the bus, she shook her head at her stupidity in getting into Ace’s car. Damn you, Ace. Sometimes I wish I was an only child.
4
Get Over It
The blaring of her alarm woke Gwen way too early the next morning.
She groaned and slapped the alarm off, burrowing deeper under the covers. Outside, a siren wailed in the distance. Damn Ace and his dickishness. His words from last night floated up, mocking her.
You’re surrounded by weirdoes and psychos all day. Are you surprised one of them might have latched on to you?
Stalking doesn’t happen in Haven.
Step into the lion’s den, you’re gonna get bit.
Fuck. To top it all off, he’d had the nerve to try and set her up again. Like she was too helpless to be on her own. Brother’s duty, my ass.
She’d called the flower shop last night and asked who ordered the roses, hoping for some information, but didn’t get anything helpful. The order had been placed by phone and paid for by a prepaid Visa card. She asked for a name, and the shop manager told her they couldn’t give that information.
Another dead end.
At least Master Archer had agreed to teach her self-defense.
A bolt of that same unsettled nervousness raced through her at the thought of him. The intense way he looked at her, the dark, foreboding scowl he wore, as if he might order her to her knees any second. Everything about him screamed Dom. She was used to Doms at The Sanctuary, excluding Nick, though interactions were minimal, and none had a presence like Master Archer. They didn’t make her skin hum.
Strange, that Master Archer’s forcefulness left her struggling not to stammer around him. She wasn’t a sub, so why did his domineering manner leave her body scorching every time he looked at her?
Tonight would be her first class with him. Would he put his hands on her? A pleasant shiver raced through her at the thought of him correcting her posture, running his hands over places that went beyond what training required.
What would it be like if he ordered her around? Punished her when she didn’t do what he said? Her nipples hardened and she squirmed into the mattress.
She imagined him shoving her to his bed, his hands trailing down her sides to her hips, making her stomach dance at his touch. Christ. Thinking of him like this made her painfully aware of her own inexperience. She wasn’t the virginal innocent her family seemed to think she was, but it would be hard to miss her awkwardness.
In her mind, Archer ordered her to spread her legs, that harsh, biting tone gruff with need. She imagined herself refusing just to rile him up, and he jerked her legs apart.
She imagined his head lowering as he kissed his way along her belly to the apex of her thighs. In her mind, he didn’t balk at her curves, instead savoring them, running his hands over the swell of her breasts, the shape of her generous hips. Enjoying them in a way a man like him probably wouldn’t in real life. His mouth and tongue explored, hungry and possessive. Her core throbbed.
Something dark fluttered in her belly and she imagined reaching down, pushing his head away, just to see what he would do. “I can’t do this.”
“You can and you will. Open for me, or I’ll make you come another way, only you won’t have the choice.”
What the… where did that come from? She wasn’t a submissive, and she definitely wasn’t into threats. Was she? Oh, god. Gwen’s skin heated as she pictured herself spreading her legs wider for him, lying back, compliant.
What the hell was she doing being attracted to him? The man was going to be her freaking sensei. Besides, he probably didn’t see her as anything more than Ace’s dowdy, awkward sister.
Gwen threw off the covers and sat up. What was wrong with her? She ran her hands down her face.
“Man, am I in trouble.”
* * *
“You’re late.”
“I…I am?” Gwen looked at the clock above the door of the practice room. Ten after nine. Immediately her stomach tightened. She glanced at the front of the room.
Master Archer waited with his hands behind his back, feet apart, a large mat lying on the floor in front of him. He’d said he didn’t tolerate excuses. Shit. Would he refuse to help her now?
Gwen dropped her duffle bag on the bench. “Sorry sir, um… Mister… Um… Master.” She couldn’t look at him.
Fuck, what was wrong with her? Not two minutes in front of him and already with the crippling self-doubt.
Archer strode over to her. “Tell me you have something resembling workout clothes in that bag.”
Irritation flickered in her. “As a matter of fact, I do, Master Archer. I have a track suit.”
His brow quirked at her tone, and her face flared. Way to go, Gwen. Stop mouthing off.
“You’ll have to get a gi. I can give you one and bill you, or you can buy one, but I expect you to wear it next class.”
“Right.” Gwen licked her lips. “Um, Master?”
“Yes.”
“I’m the only one here.”
“Is that a problem?”
“No. Of… of course not.” Private classes… Oh fuck. “It’s just… well. Why?” She bit her cheek as images of all the things he might do to her with no other students there flew through her head.
“I already told you, I don’t do newbie’s. I have junior instructors for that. If I’m going to train you, I’ll have to do it separately. You’d hold my other students back.”
Gwen scrunched her brows. Was that pain she saw flickering in his eyes? Why?
He nodded to the door that led to the women’s locker room. “Go get changed, I only have a couple of hours, and by the looks of you, this is gonna take a while.”
She pressed her lips together. She got the message; he didn’t like beginners. Gwen forced herself not to scurry into the locker room.
Once alone in the large tiled room, she leaned against the closed door, trying to slow her breathing.
I don’t do newbie’s. The impatience, the condescending look in his eyes was just like every man in her family would have had. She remembered the way he threw that student to the floor during class, brutal and unyielding. Gwen shivered.
This as a mistake. She glanced at the mirror at her nervous, pale face. Dark shadows lined her eyes from the lack of sleep that had become a permanent companion since the stalker started on her months ago.
She blew out a frustrated breath. After that night in the alley, she knew the stalker wouldn’t stop.
She threw her bag on the counter, unzipped it, and pulled out her track suit.
When Gwen disappeared into the locker room, Archer sat up from a stretch and glared at the locker room door.
You shouldn’t have agreed to teach her, dumbass.
If he’d thought she would make it easy on him by looking terrible this time, he was sorely mistaken. If anything, she looked hotter today in that soft, white peasant top, with the tight line across those ample breasts. With that thick hair pulled into a girlish ponytail.
An ache started in his cock. Yikes. When the hell had the little mouse he remembered turned into such a stunner? And why hadn’t she stood up to him a moment ago when he disparaged her newbie status? She’d wanted to, he could see it. She’d spoken up the last time he’d seen h
er, but he could tell it had taken a lot out of her.
Sympathy for her pulled at him in spite of his efforts to remain emotionally distant. She was nothing like Kimiko. And yet the situation was much too similar for his liking. He should have stayed away from her.
“I’m ready, Master Archer.”
Archer’s head shot up.
Jesus H… He widened his eyes, almost wishing he’d let her keep the jeans and peasant top on. The track top hugged every inch of her glorious chest, and the waistline of her track bottoms bit into the flesh of her hips just right, showing off the slope of an ass to die for. She stood without an ounce of finesse or discipline. Shoulders slouched, those green eyes behind those huge glasses downcast, fingers twining and untwining. So nervous, so untrained. When she bit her bottom lip, he longed to kiss her, to bite it himself until she whimpered.
Yup, this was going to be a long session. He stood.
“Do you need the specs all the time?”
She shook her head.
“Then lose them. The first time you move the wrong way for an attack, the glasses will be useless.”
“You’ve already pegged me for hopeless then.” When he only blinked at her, she licked her lips. “I can’t see without the glasses.”
“Do you wear contacts?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Fine, wear the glasses for today, but wear contacts for class from now on.”
“Y…yes, Master.” She bobbed her head.
Master. Man, how was he supposed to deal with her when his cock jumped just from her using that word? Yet he couldn’t bring himself to order her to call him Sensei instead.
“All right, get over here.” When she obeyed, he crossed his arms, assessing her stance, her attitude, or lack thereof.
Christ, the woman shuffled her feet, constantly correcting her balance with one foot out. Fidgeting, and looking at her feet, her hands, the floor, anywhere but at him.
“Master Archer, are… are you always this bossy?”
Before he could stop it, a roar of laughter escaped him. Immediately his Dom instincts stirred. Oh, wouldn’t he love to show her how bossy he could be.