Willing Sacrifice (Knights of the Board Room #6)

She’d told Max she’d go visit his sister with him Wednesday afternoon. Just to prove she had some willpower, for the next two days she didn’t go home with him or invite him to do the same, though he sent her some fairly provocative and suggestive texts. When she responded with a threat to sic Human Resources on him, he started sending her lines of poetry. Everything from e. e. cummings to Edgar Allan Poe. She responded he was going to have to do better than steal one-liners from a Best of the Poet Masters desk calendar.

You’re a tough crowd. Take a break this afternoon. I’ll give you a foot massage.

Maybe.

But at two p.m., she decided to do just that. The moment she saw him stretched out on his truck in that sexy, deceptively somnolent pose, arms crossed over the broad chest, long thighs and groin accentuated by the crossing of his ankles, she thought visiting him on break might become like a crack habit to her. As she crossed the parking lot, he sat up and slid off the hood, meeting her halfway. She was carrying a meatball sandwich left over from a lunch meeting and a napkin full of cookies, both of which she extended to him. “I thought you might enjoy these.”

“What are you having?”

She chuckled, enjoying him. “I had my lunch in the meeting, but I expect you to share at least one of those chocolate chip cookies.”

“I’m not sure our relationship has progressed that far.”

Giving her a grin, he set the food inside the front seat of the truck, then guided her around to the truck bed. Intrigued, she saw he already had the tailgate down and the thick quilt folded there as a cushion. He put his hands to her waist and lifted her on to it, the same way he’d done the day this had all started. Only this time she kept her hands on his shoulders, letting her fingers whisper over his neck, curl in his T-shirt, bringing him closer. The skirt she was wearing was short enough she could spread her knees and bring him inside their span. He put his hands on her waist, drawing her against him so core met core. The kiss was hot, deep, and kept them both holding to one another, even when he finally drew back with a regretful look.

“More than that, and I’ll compromise your reputation on the security cameras. They’re only catching our head and shoulders in the corner of the screen, but even so…”

His eyes were sparkling though, aware of the significance of her encouraging the act where it would quickly become public news they were seeing one another. “So this is no longer bound by OPSEC?”

She punched his shoulder. “Unless you tease me about it.”

“Stopping the teasing immediately, ma’am. At least that kind.” He amused her by pinching the hem of her skirt on either side and working it back down her thighs. It restored her modesty for the grainy resolution of the security feed, if the camera could see her legs. From what he’d said, she suspected not. She noticed his truck was at a different angle and realized he’d likely checked on the scope of the video camera in this corner of the parking deck. A wave of pleasure washed through her, thinking of him protecting her privacy that way. It was exactly the type of thing he’d do.

Then he turned his attention to her feet.

Apparently, there were reasons other than the camera angle that had him placing her on the tailgate instead of the hood. More pleasant sensations swirled through her chest and lower abdomen as he dropped to one knee. He glanced up at her as he did it, making clear it was deliberate. He removed her shoes, setting them neatly on the tailgate next to her before clasping her stocking-covered feet in his magical hands. As he began to rub her arches, working her toes between his strong fingers, massaging her ankles, she was hard-pressed not to moan like she did during sex. She struggled for something to distract herself.

“You’ll be happy to know Matt gave us his blessing. Not that I need his blessing for anything I do, but he did. He told me I could trust you, and that you are one of the most honorable men he knows.”

Max stopped at that, looking up. “His opinion carries a great deal of weight with me,” she continued, “but he didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already suspect.”

“He’s been…” Max lifted a shoulder, then looked down at her feet, his fingers tightening on them. “I trust him.”

She knew he couldn’t give a greater compliment to another man, and she made a note to share that with Matt sometime, return the favor.

Max didn’t say anything for the next few moments. She figured he was focused on her feet, trying to inspire an orgasm through her arches. He was pretty damn close to succeeding, enough that if she ever saw him with his hands on another woman’s feet she’d probably shoot him for infidelity.

Wow. Getting a little possessive there, girl.

“You know,” he said slowly, keeping his eyes on his task, “I earned a punishment that day, when you told me not to come until you said so. Remember?”

“Yes, I do.” Her gaze coursed over the strands of his dark-blond hair, the angle of his face she could see. She could almost hear the gears turning in his mind, the decisions being made. That coil in her lower belly became even sweeter.

“So I was thinking that maybe it…the punishment, could clear a few things up. If I joined you at the club this weekend. As your guest.” He cleared his throat, lifted his face to her. “As yours.”

She prided herself on being able to anticipate a man, enjoyed the pleasure of being a step ahead, but he’d taken her by surprise on that one. As a Domme, she was intuitive enough to recognize a situation where a sub was pushing himself where he didn’t really want to go, just to please a Domme. The signals for a non-sub doing it would be similar, but she didn’t see that in his face. The reasoning became clearer as he put his hand on her knee, fingers toying with the hem of her skirt.

“I trust you, Janet. I not only want to prove it, I want you to believe it.” His gray eyes held hers. “It’s like me going to the ballet class with you. I’m not a dancer, but you included me in it, because it was something important to you, a passion. You didn’t leave me on the sidelines as a spectator either. You helped me understand the steps, let me lift you, even knowing I’m not going to be leaping around in tights. The way you brought me into it like that…something in me responded to your love of it. I want to have the experience of sharing this other part of you the same way. I trust you to know what I am and what I’m not.”

As she considered that, his fingers curled on her leg. “It’s a lot like foreplay,” he added. “Women always need more of it than men, but we like what happens to you when we’re doing it with you. That gives us an incentive to keep doing it.”

Only to a man who understands the rewards of generosity of spirit, she thought. Matt had essentially told her she was a different kind of Mistress, that she’d been looking for a rare combination in a prolonged relationship. Max had said it more directly. She didn’t need him to be her typical sub. Just hers.

“All right. How about Saturday night?”

He considered that. “Can you do Friday? I’m supposed to fix a friend’s plumbing and eat pizza with her Saturday.”

She didn’t have a jealous bone in her body, but suddenly her entire skeletal system turned green. “Her?” she asked, deceptively mild.

Rising to his feet, Max cupped her face and kissed her again, making it last even longer, to the point she hoped he was right about those cameras and slid both hands to his ass, gripping hard and pressing him closer against her. He responded with a growl and cinched his arm around her waist so his thick erection was against her abdomen.

How was it that they’d had sex multiple times this morning, and she wanted more? Of course, he obviously felt the same way.

“She’s married to a SEAL buddy,” he said, his voice not entirely steady when he lifted his head. “We watch after each other’s families. You can come with me if you’d like, but it’s in Houston, so I’ll probably stay overnight. I bet Gayle would love to meet you. I just didn’t think to invite you because you seem to like skipping a day or two between our meets. You’re seeing my sister Wednesday, and then if we’re doing Friday… I figured it might be more than you want to do.”

“On the flip side, if I see you three times in the same week, I can get you out of my system, cast you aside. Then I can move on to the next dime-a-dozen, bounce-a-quarter-off-his-ass honorable man with special ops military training and a sex god’s stamina.”

He grinned. “Stroking my ego?”

“Just telling you the standards I expect you to maintain,” she said loftily.

From his expression, she could tell he understood the significance of her agreement. Not only was she seeing him three times in the same week, she was agreeing to meet people he considered his family—both blood and chosen. And speaking of quid pro quo, in that same week he would be submitting to her, in a formal club environment.

It was an exchange of worlds, to see how they did in both. Maybe it was a little much all at once, but to be honest, Matt was right. She was falling in love, and like any woman in love, in the first throes of that breathless passion and fascination, she wanted to be with him every minute. The possessive grasp of his hands, the look in his eyes, the demand of the lips he put back on hers now, told her he had the same overwhelming desire.

So fuck it. Go big or go home. And she didn’t want to go home unless Max was with her.

Amanda Ackerman was a permanent resident at a private, top-of-the-line psychiatric home. Located on the outskirts of New Orleans, the main building of the property was an old plantation with graceful pillars and a verandah. The grounds had extensive gardens, a pond and peaceful nature trails. Brick annex buildings housed the medical facilities, so that such ugly necessities didn’t intrude on the living quarters. In the main house, the thirty permanent residents had their own rooms and were watched over by an ample full-time staff. There were several solariums, an indoor and outdoor pool, a recreation area and more.