If Only
Page 71
“What else do you know?” Jessica asked Kari.
“Just that Sally was staying with us because Dan isn’t officially on the Association case.”
“So why did they kick Sally out?” Rainie asked.
Sally pulled in a breath as understanding lightened the darkness inside her.
“The Harvest Association?” Jessica asked. “But I thought they’d caught the head of the organization. That he was dead.”
“The arsonist is still running loose,” Sally said.
“Dan said the cops were shackled to something, so they couldn’t escape,” Kari said.
Gabi had turned the color of her white peasant blouse. “Shackles and death by fire. The Harvest Association signature.”
“That’s just sick.” Rainie’s lip twisted as if she wanted to spit.
“But if the deaths happened in New York, what does it have to do with me?” Sally asked. “I don’t get it.”
“Well.” Kari bit her lip. “This stays with us, right?”
Heads nodded.
“The two cops who died were the ones who’d shot that Somer guy. Galen shot him too.”
Sally’s eyes widened. “They think the arsonist is after revenge?” Oh fuck. “That the guy might come here?” A knife of worry slid between her ribs almost soundlessly. Galen was in far more danger than she was.
Gabi pursed her lips. “Galen is definitely the type who imagines worst-case scenarios.”
A chill crept up Sally’s spine. Because he’d lived through them. “I didn’t do anything wrong. And they do love me. But they don’t want to see me hurt.”
Kari nodded. “That sounds right.”
She leaned back, relaxing for the first time in hours. Nothing had changed—she was still ousted from the house, separated from the idiots she loved—and yet everything was different. “So Vance sent me away—and Galen let him—because there’s a chance some a-hole will decide to visit sunny Florida?”
She didn’t need an answer. Oh yes, that’s exactly what had happened. Because Galen wouldn’t take any chance that she might get killed as his wife had. She growled. “Those fucking dickless—okay, maybe not that—lily-livered, spineless, impotent—okay, not that either—chickenhearted, dim-witted, gutless Doms.”
Gabi snorted. “No Dom cookies for them?”
“There’s the Sally we know and love.” Jessica grinned. “What are you going to do?”
“Be nice if I could kick them to the curb.” She considered that glorious scenario and sighed. “Only that would hurt me as well.”
Gabi patted her hand. “I’ve seen shortsighted idiots do that though. I’m glad you’re smarter.”
Pulling out her cell phone, Sally powered it off. “I need to think and think hard before I talk to them.” And she started thinking about what she wanted to accomplish.
“These are the rules of combat,” Galen had said. “The time limit on making up is twenty-four hours, whereupon discussion must begin.” Yes, G and V figured they were acting for her own good, but…discussion? Hello?
“Don’t talk. Just use Mistress Anne’s cock-and-ball torture devices on them,” Rainie suggested.
“Clever idea.” A laugh bubbled up in Sally, half relief, half amusement. “Assuming I want to have my arms and legs ripped off.”
Jessica grinned. “And you might yet have a use for those manly bits. It’s just not good makeup sex without them.”
The Feds really had a knack for great makeup sex. Sally hugged herself. With luck, she’d soon have all those fully functional, manly bits back in her bed. “Somehow, I have to get the guys to see reason.”
“Did you just use reason in the same sentence as men? You need a reality check.” Grinning, Rainie shook her head—and froze, her gaze fixed on something beyond Sally.
“What?” Sally asked.
“Time to get to work.” With a grunt of exertion, Rainie pushed herself up, grabbed the tray from the coffee table, and hustled away.
“What’s with Rai—” Gabi glanced over her shoulder and flinched. “Oh hell, he said he was working late tonight.”
Sally turned.
Master Z and Marcus stood inside the club room, looking directly at the group.
With a groan, Jessica slid down into the chair Rainie had vacated. “How does he always know if I sneak down here? Who ratted us out? It wasn’t Cullen this time—he didn’t notice anyone but Sally.”
Feeling remorseful, Sally glanced around the room. Maybe she could sic the trainees on the informant. Around the bar, mostly newer Doms and Dommes had congregated. A few submissives were chatting with Andrea. Behind the bar was…the new Master. Jake.
His gaze went past Sally, undoubtedly to Master Z, and he touched his fingers to his forehead in a make-believe salute.
“It was Jake,” Sally told the others.
“That jerk.” Jessica fumed. “I don’t believe it. He’s even coming to dinner tomorrow. I swear, I’m going to serve him a chocolate cake with a chocolate-flavored laxative for the filling.”
Kari choked on her drink. “You wouldn’t.”
“Well no.” Jessica glared at Jake, and his smile widened. She glanced in the other direction and shrank down in her chair.
Gabi picked up her glass. “They’re coming this way, aren’t they?” she asked Jessica.
“Oh yeah.”
Gabi chugged the rest of her drink.
“Maybe I don’t want the munch-ass Feds back,” Sally said. “Not if they’d go all Dom on my ass just for coming here.”
“It’s worth it, sweetie.” Gabi turned.
Shoulder to shoulder, the two Masters stood right behind the couch. Marcus folded his arms over his chest, looking down at his submissive.
Gabi gave him a brilliant smile. “Sir, how nice to see you here already. Did you know the Feds had—”
Sally noticed Master Marcus’s steel-colored suit brought out the blue of his eyes, which were just a shade or two lighter than Vance’s. And Vance’s eyes acquired that same intensity when he slid into that dangerous Dom mode.
“Darlin’ Gabi, I do believe we need to have a bit of a chat.” Master Marcus’s southern accent somehow had taken on an ominous edge. The way he loosened his tie was even more threatening.
Sally twisted around fully. “Master Marcus, it’s all my—”
Laughing, Gabi rose, put a hand over Sally’s face, and pushed her over backward on the couch.
Sally stared up in disbelief.
Turning slightly so Marcus wouldn’t see, Gabi winked before smiling cheerily at her Dom. “Sir, would you really punish me for rushing downstairs to help my friend? Wouldn’t that show you don’t value loyalty?”
The smile that flashed across his face revealed why the man could positively mesmerize a panel of jurors. “That’s a fine defense, sweetheart. Come along now and we’ll discuss it.”
With immense dignity, Gabi walked around the couch to her Dom. They hadn’t gotten far when Gabi shouted, “Spank me! That’s still a punishment. You bloated dickhead, you really are proof that evolution can go in reverse.”
He turned her around, and Sally saw the twitch of his lips before he looked at his submissive sternly, raising his voice slightly. “Master Cullen would enjoy having a bar ornament if your cheeks aren’t up to being reddened.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong. Sir.” Gabi crossed her arms over her chest. Her voice was syrupy sweet as she asked, “Did you ever wonder what life would be like if you’d had enough oxygen at birth?”
He was still laughing as he dropped into a chair, yanked her over his lap, and administered the first resounding whack on her bottom.
“Jessica.” Master Z walked into the sitting area.
Jessica straightened in response.
Eeks. Sally scrambled to a sitting position so fast she almost fell off the couch. Her head spun for a moment. For God’s said, how much alcohol had Andrea put in her drink. She shook her head and frowned. How could she help? Jessica was in trouble because of her.
Dressed in his usual black silk shirt and black tailored slacks, Master Z stopped in front of Jessica’s chair and looked down at her. The deep timbre of his voice was even smoother than the expensive Scotch whisky he preferred to drink. “I realize you wanted to help Sally, but would a phone call to me not have been appropriate?”
Jessica sighed. “Yes, Master. I just…forgot.”
“You’ve forgotten quite a few things recently,” he said gravely. “Is there something—a need—I’m not meeting? Or some reason you might feel insecure?”
When Jessica didn’t answer, he crouched in front of her, taking her face between his hands. “I love you, kitten. Whatever is bothering you, we’ll work it out. But you have to let me in before that can happen.”
“I don’t think that there’s anything.” Jessica’s whisper was almost inaudible. “Just that…”
“That you want a baby. I know, pet.” He studied her for a minute. “Is that all?”
Jessica nodded.
“Just that Sally was staying with us because Dan isn’t officially on the Association case.”
“So why did they kick Sally out?” Rainie asked.
Sally pulled in a breath as understanding lightened the darkness inside her.
“The Harvest Association?” Jessica asked. “But I thought they’d caught the head of the organization. That he was dead.”
“The arsonist is still running loose,” Sally said.
“Dan said the cops were shackled to something, so they couldn’t escape,” Kari said.
Gabi had turned the color of her white peasant blouse. “Shackles and death by fire. The Harvest Association signature.”
“That’s just sick.” Rainie’s lip twisted as if she wanted to spit.
“But if the deaths happened in New York, what does it have to do with me?” Sally asked. “I don’t get it.”
“Well.” Kari bit her lip. “This stays with us, right?”
Heads nodded.
“The two cops who died were the ones who’d shot that Somer guy. Galen shot him too.”
Sally’s eyes widened. “They think the arsonist is after revenge?” Oh fuck. “That the guy might come here?” A knife of worry slid between her ribs almost soundlessly. Galen was in far more danger than she was.
Gabi pursed her lips. “Galen is definitely the type who imagines worst-case scenarios.”
A chill crept up Sally’s spine. Because he’d lived through them. “I didn’t do anything wrong. And they do love me. But they don’t want to see me hurt.”
Kari nodded. “That sounds right.”
She leaned back, relaxing for the first time in hours. Nothing had changed—she was still ousted from the house, separated from the idiots she loved—and yet everything was different. “So Vance sent me away—and Galen let him—because there’s a chance some a-hole will decide to visit sunny Florida?”
She didn’t need an answer. Oh yes, that’s exactly what had happened. Because Galen wouldn’t take any chance that she might get killed as his wife had. She growled. “Those fucking dickless—okay, maybe not that—lily-livered, spineless, impotent—okay, not that either—chickenhearted, dim-witted, gutless Doms.”
Gabi snorted. “No Dom cookies for them?”
“There’s the Sally we know and love.” Jessica grinned. “What are you going to do?”
“Be nice if I could kick them to the curb.” She considered that glorious scenario and sighed. “Only that would hurt me as well.”
Gabi patted her hand. “I’ve seen shortsighted idiots do that though. I’m glad you’re smarter.”
Pulling out her cell phone, Sally powered it off. “I need to think and think hard before I talk to them.” And she started thinking about what she wanted to accomplish.
“These are the rules of combat,” Galen had said. “The time limit on making up is twenty-four hours, whereupon discussion must begin.” Yes, G and V figured they were acting for her own good, but…discussion? Hello?
“Don’t talk. Just use Mistress Anne’s cock-and-ball torture devices on them,” Rainie suggested.
“Clever idea.” A laugh bubbled up in Sally, half relief, half amusement. “Assuming I want to have my arms and legs ripped off.”
Jessica grinned. “And you might yet have a use for those manly bits. It’s just not good makeup sex without them.”
The Feds really had a knack for great makeup sex. Sally hugged herself. With luck, she’d soon have all those fully functional, manly bits back in her bed. “Somehow, I have to get the guys to see reason.”
“Did you just use reason in the same sentence as men? You need a reality check.” Grinning, Rainie shook her head—and froze, her gaze fixed on something beyond Sally.
“What?” Sally asked.
“Time to get to work.” With a grunt of exertion, Rainie pushed herself up, grabbed the tray from the coffee table, and hustled away.
“What’s with Rai—” Gabi glanced over her shoulder and flinched. “Oh hell, he said he was working late tonight.”
Sally turned.
Master Z and Marcus stood inside the club room, looking directly at the group.
With a groan, Jessica slid down into the chair Rainie had vacated. “How does he always know if I sneak down here? Who ratted us out? It wasn’t Cullen this time—he didn’t notice anyone but Sally.”
Feeling remorseful, Sally glanced around the room. Maybe she could sic the trainees on the informant. Around the bar, mostly newer Doms and Dommes had congregated. A few submissives were chatting with Andrea. Behind the bar was…the new Master. Jake.
His gaze went past Sally, undoubtedly to Master Z, and he touched his fingers to his forehead in a make-believe salute.
“It was Jake,” Sally told the others.
“That jerk.” Jessica fumed. “I don’t believe it. He’s even coming to dinner tomorrow. I swear, I’m going to serve him a chocolate cake with a chocolate-flavored laxative for the filling.”
Kari choked on her drink. “You wouldn’t.”
“Well no.” Jessica glared at Jake, and his smile widened. She glanced in the other direction and shrank down in her chair.
Gabi picked up her glass. “They’re coming this way, aren’t they?” she asked Jessica.
“Oh yeah.”
Gabi chugged the rest of her drink.
“Maybe I don’t want the munch-ass Feds back,” Sally said. “Not if they’d go all Dom on my ass just for coming here.”
“It’s worth it, sweetie.” Gabi turned.
Shoulder to shoulder, the two Masters stood right behind the couch. Marcus folded his arms over his chest, looking down at his submissive.
Gabi gave him a brilliant smile. “Sir, how nice to see you here already. Did you know the Feds had—”
Sally noticed Master Marcus’s steel-colored suit brought out the blue of his eyes, which were just a shade or two lighter than Vance’s. And Vance’s eyes acquired that same intensity when he slid into that dangerous Dom mode.
“Darlin’ Gabi, I do believe we need to have a bit of a chat.” Master Marcus’s southern accent somehow had taken on an ominous edge. The way he loosened his tie was even more threatening.
Sally twisted around fully. “Master Marcus, it’s all my—”
Laughing, Gabi rose, put a hand over Sally’s face, and pushed her over backward on the couch.
Sally stared up in disbelief.
Turning slightly so Marcus wouldn’t see, Gabi winked before smiling cheerily at her Dom. “Sir, would you really punish me for rushing downstairs to help my friend? Wouldn’t that show you don’t value loyalty?”
The smile that flashed across his face revealed why the man could positively mesmerize a panel of jurors. “That’s a fine defense, sweetheart. Come along now and we’ll discuss it.”
With immense dignity, Gabi walked around the couch to her Dom. They hadn’t gotten far when Gabi shouted, “Spank me! That’s still a punishment. You bloated dickhead, you really are proof that evolution can go in reverse.”
He turned her around, and Sally saw the twitch of his lips before he looked at his submissive sternly, raising his voice slightly. “Master Cullen would enjoy having a bar ornament if your cheeks aren’t up to being reddened.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong. Sir.” Gabi crossed her arms over her chest. Her voice was syrupy sweet as she asked, “Did you ever wonder what life would be like if you’d had enough oxygen at birth?”
He was still laughing as he dropped into a chair, yanked her over his lap, and administered the first resounding whack on her bottom.
“Jessica.” Master Z walked into the sitting area.
Jessica straightened in response.
Eeks. Sally scrambled to a sitting position so fast she almost fell off the couch. Her head spun for a moment. For God’s said, how much alcohol had Andrea put in her drink. She shook her head and frowned. How could she help? Jessica was in trouble because of her.
Dressed in his usual black silk shirt and black tailored slacks, Master Z stopped in front of Jessica’s chair and looked down at her. The deep timbre of his voice was even smoother than the expensive Scotch whisky he preferred to drink. “I realize you wanted to help Sally, but would a phone call to me not have been appropriate?”
Jessica sighed. “Yes, Master. I just…forgot.”
“You’ve forgotten quite a few things recently,” he said gravely. “Is there something—a need—I’m not meeting? Or some reason you might feel insecure?”
When Jessica didn’t answer, he crouched in front of her, taking her face between his hands. “I love you, kitten. Whatever is bothering you, we’ll work it out. But you have to let me in before that can happen.”
“I don’t think that there’s anything.” Jessica’s whisper was almost inaudible. “Just that…”
“That you want a baby. I know, pet.” He studied her for a minute. “Is that all?”
Jessica nodded.
