Breaking Free

A few minutes ago, he and Z had stood on the balcony, listening to the women talk. And laugh. He’d never heard Beth really laugh, and the sound of her unrestrained giggles had hardened him like a rock.

He wanted to draw more laughter out of her and learn what made her laugh. Their meal together had pleased him more than he’d anticipated. The woman blazed like a fire, giving off heat and light…when not terrified. And he’d spent a lot of time since thinking about how her fears crippled her.

There was work to be done, and he was just the Dom to do it.

“Have a seat, Nolan, and a drink,” Z said and set a root beer on the table. Reluctantly, Nolan released his captive. He glanced at the empty chair over by Jessica. Too far away from where he wanted to be.

“I’ll share Beth’s chair,” he said and scooped the little rabbit up. She gave a pleasing squeak. He took her place and set her on his lap. Ignoring her struggles—she wasn’t really trying, he noticed with pleasure—he yanked her against his chest and secured her with a hand on her hip. “You know, I don’t think I want you associating with Z’s sub, sugar. She’s not very well-trained.”

Beth straightened indignantly, ready to defend her friend, but he kept her in place with a hand on her breast. Well, he’d planned to put it between her breasts, but…oops.

Obviously annoyed by his comment, Jessica opened her mouth then closed it. She glanced at Z.

Seating himself next to Jessica, Z kissed his sub’s fingers. “We’re not in the club now, little one, so you may be as rude as you wish.” When Jessica smiled, he added, “But Nolan does have a nasty way of settling old scores. And you will be in the club on Saturday.”

She sat back with a disgruntled scowl. “Well, that’s not very fair.”

Nolan gave her a sympathetic look. “That’s why I prefer being the Dom.” When Beth laughed, he kissed her, enjoying the way her lips softened under his. As he drew back, he held her gaze and murmured, “Well, there may be more than one reason.” She flushed, and her nipple spiked under his fingers.

“Behave, Nolan.” Z took a sip of his sub’s Coke. “Beth isn’t here to play, remember? She works for a living. Speaking of which, what do you think of the yard?”

Nolan compared the landscaping to his memory of what it had looked like before he left for Iraq. “That’s quite a difference,” he said slowly. “I like it. Much less stuffy.”

A tiny smile appeared and disappeared on Beth’s face.

Z frowned at her. “Beth used the exact same word. Stuffy. But I do like the effect she’s achieved, both here and in the Capture Gardens.”

“What did—”

Nolan’s question was interrupted by men’s voices as Dan and Cullen dashed through the open gate and into the lanai. “Damn wet out there,” Cullen said, shaking his shaggy head and spraying everyone with water. “Where’s the beer and the cards? Are we playing down here?” He grinned at Beth and Jessica. “Are these extra treats?”

The little sub in Nolan’s lap squirmed, and he tightened his grip. It was time for the next step in her education, so she might as well get used to Cullen’s ways. Besides, he wanted her to see his place without being afraid. “While you’re all here…”

The noise settled. “Thursday’s the Fourth. I’d like to have a party at my house. My balcony has a good view of the fireworks. Just the four of us and our subs. Start around three or so and end after the fireworks.”

Daniel and Cullen were free, but Z had to decline. Nolan looked down at the rabbit who had gone immobile. “Do you want me to pick you up or give you directions?”

Her big blue-green eyes lifted and he could almost read her thoughts. The automatic wariness, then the realization that others would be present. A tiny tremor ran through her before she capitulated. “Directions, please.”

“Hey, Beth, Dan’s a cop. Did you report your break-in to the police?” Jessica asked.

Dan turned and asked, “What break-in?” even as Nolan voiced the same question.

* * * * *

Damn Jessica anyway. Beth leaned against a light pole, frowning as Nolan installed a new lock on her door. Before that, he’d reframed the door with harder wood, muttering about cheap-ass materials. And he wouldn’t let her pay for anything.

Being obligated to a man, any man, bothered the hell out of her. Being obligated to this man…

Still kneeling, he closed the door, turned the key, and nodded his approval when the deadbolt snicked open and closed. “Looks good.” He rose to his feet and walked over.

She looked up, a little unnerved by the reality of him. The bright sun highlighted the laugh lines around his mouth and eyes, the scar on his cheek, his firm lips, and stern jaw line. With him, dominant was more than a term; it was who he was to the bone.

He noticed her staring and smiled, a crease appearing in his lean cheek. He held his hand out, palm up, a Dom’s gesture asking for a sub’s wrists, and she couldn’t seem to stop from complying despite a shiver of anxiety. Would he drag her into the apartment and…

Opening her clenched fingers, he dropped the deadbolt keys onto her palm and closed her hand around them.

“Thank you,” she murmured, feeling off-center. He hadn’t tried anything sexual at all and acted as if they were simply friends. Only the possessive look in his eyes gave the lie to anything different. “I still think you should let me pay for the materials at least.”

“No.” He tilted her chin up to give her an uncompromising look. “And next time, I will hear about your problems from you, not Jessica.”

“But…” Wasn’t their relationship just a Dom/sub club thing? He didn’t want more, and she didn’t want more and…

“I left directions to my house on your table. Be there at three. Wear whatever you want; it won’t be on long. And make sure you put on lots of suntan lotion—all over.” Grasping her upper arms, he pulled her up on tiptoe and kissed her, long and deep and hard, managing to leave her feeling as possessed as if he’d tied her down. With a faint smile and a tap of his finger on her cheek, he strode away, leaving her leaning against the side of her building for strength.

Chapter Eight

On Thursday, Beth slid out of her Toyota and rested her hands on the truck hood, fighting against the urge to flee. But, hey, she was getting better at ignoring her fears. She’d made it here, hadn’t she? And really, she did want to be here. With Nolan…Master Nolan…Sir…her master.

Saying his various names and titles sent odd emotions prickling through her, making her chest feel funny. There was something between them, at least on her part, something more than just a master/sub relationship. She could easily grow…fond…of him.

She shook her head and stomped on that thought. She wasn’t free to become fond of anyone and never would be. Filing for a divorce would immediately paint a bull’s-eye on her. Kyler had told her in graphic detail what would happen to her. She needed to remember that.

And she needed to remember how Nolan felt about a woman cheating on her husband. A little quiver of worry ran through her at the memory of his harsh face when he talked about his wife.

So absolutely no…fondness, Beth.

Right. Really, she just liked him because of what he’d done for her. Because of him, she felt more like herself than she had in years. She felt like a woman again, pretty, competent. How odd that being submissive could let her feel more competent. It was because of Sir. Although he assumed she’d naturally submit to him, he obviously believed she was still her own person. A strong person.

Since she’d been with him, her body seemed less cold. So she wasn’t going to be a scaredy-cat and stop now. She trusted him…mostly… More than anyone else in forever. She’d let him take her further.

And, despite her internal pep-talk, the thought closed her throat. God, she was such a coward.

With an exasperated sigh, she moved away from the truck and finally took a good look at her surroundings. All she could do was stare. Newly built, the two-story Spanish-style house was a pale gold stucco with arched windows everywhere. A white flagstone patio extended out in a semicircle around a splashing fountain.

She hadn’t nearly managed to finish gaping when Nolan walked out between the pillars of the covered portico. Her heart gave a painful thump. Dressed in blue jeans and a white, short-sleeved shirt that set off his dark skin, the Dom was as gorgeous as his house. Look at him… He could have any woman he wanted. What in the world was she doing here?

She felt like a terrified puppy wanting to crawl back into its kennel and could almost feel a tail curling under her belly, so she straightened and raised her chin. “Hi,” she said casually.

“Hi, yourself.” Not stopping at a polite distance, he walked right up to her and effortlessly lifted her high enough to kiss her, his mouth warm and demanding.

A nice blaze burned inside her body by the time he released her.

“Well.” She sucked in a breath, realized she was holding his waist, and pulled her hands back. “You have a beautiful home.”

“Thank you.” He ran a finger down her cheek. “I’m glad you like it.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">