Knot a Chance: Doms of The Covenant Book 3

by Samantha A. Cole

  A thumping from outside had Stefan standing and looking down from the bay window. His street dead-ended two driveways down from his, and his neighbors had put up a basketball net for their sons and allowed any of the local kids to use it whenever they wanted. Even though there was an outdoor, full-sized basketball court on the other side of the complex, this half court got a lot of use too. Right now, three of the teenage boys who lived on his street were shooting hoops.

  As he watched them play, Stefan realized how bored he’d been all day. After he’d taken the stress test Wednesday morning, Dr. Chang had finally cleared him to be released from the hospital. Stefan had honestly thought he’d failed the damn thing, since he’d gotten so out of breath and exhausted in a short amount of time as the pace of the treadmill had increased. But his cardiologist had assured him it had gone better than he’d expected.

  Shortly after his parents had left for the airport this morning, Stefan had returned to the hospital as an outpatient for his scheduled cardiac rehab session. The only thing that had made it bearable had been seeing his little pixie. Not that he’d let her know that—as his sister had said, he’d been surly. He was certain the therapists had wanted to tell him to suck it up and just do what they told him to without complaint. It was driving him nuts not being anywhere close to what he’d been able to do, physically, before his heart attack. On top of that, he had an appointment with a Coast Guard physician coming up on Tuesday. Although, he’d been told it was a routine physical, he knew it was the first step toward his unwanted medical discharge.

  Fuck this shit.

  Pushing off the window frame, Stefan strode to the front door and walked outside. As he approached the three high school seniors, he called out, “Hey, how about a little two on two?”

  “Hey, Stefan! Sounds great,” Kenny Cooper replied. “You and me against Briggs and Sanders.”

  Tyrel Sanders tossed the ball to Stefan who dribbled it a few times before passing it to Kenny while Marty Briggs tried to block him. Stefan cheered when his teammate’s shot went through the hoop with nothing but net. Back and forth, they played on the half court. After only a few minutes, though, Stefan started getting winded, but he wasn’t giving up. There was no way he was getting sidelined by a fucking heart attack. It was only a pickup basketball game. What could it hurt?

  Kenny caught a rebound and tossed it to Stefan. Without hesitation, he faked to one side, then brushed past Marty for a layup. As the shot bounced off the rim, Stefan crashed into Tyrel as they both reached for it. The two of them tumbled to the ground, and Stefan’s head spun as he gasped for air.

  Cass steered her car into Stefan’s neighborhood and slowed down under the speed limit since school had let out for the weekend and there were several kids playing outside. Stina Lundquist had called her just as she was leaving work a little while ago, to let her know she and John had flown home at Stefan’s request. Stina knew her son didn’t want them fussing over him now that he’d been discharged from the hospital, and, while it was a mother’s right to do so, she completely understood he needed some time to deal with everything. Knowing Stefan was surrounded by good and supportive friends had made the decision to return to Connecticut easier for the couple. They’d also broken the news to Stefan’s sister this morning after she and her now-fiancée had arrived back in the US.

  After Stina had wished her well and then hung up, Cass had decided to pick up Stefan’s favorites from Donovan’s Pub and stop by for a visit, since it was Friday and she didn’t have any classes that evening. Yes, it was a little presumptuous of her to just show up with dinner for him, but he’d seemed so out of sorts in rehab that morning, and she wanted to do something nice for him. She just had to keep reminding herself not to let her heart get involved. This was just one friend helping out another friend—nothing more.

  Turning down his street, she noticed some teenagers playing basketball at the dead end. Cass pulled into one of the visitor parking spots and climbed out of the car. When she turned to get the food out of the backseat, shouts caught her attention. She eyed the group of boys again, and realized they weren’t all teenagers. As she watched in horror, Stefan and one of the boys fell onto the ground, and Stefan grabbed his chest.

  “Oh my God!” Terrified, she ran toward them. “Stefan!”

  Cass dropped to her knees beside him and clutched his hand. “Are you okay? Somebody call 9-1-1!”

  “N-no,” he rasped. “I-I’m okay, Ca—” His words were cut off by a coughing fit.

  “No, you’re not okay! You had a freaking heart attack not even a week ago! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Without waiting for an answer, she glared up at the three teenagers who were staring back at her as if her head was about to explode. “Why are you just standing there? Call 9-1-1!”

  “Don’t fucking call . . . 9-1-1,” Stefan barked, as he rolled onto his side and sat up. He was still trying to catch his breath, but it didn’t appear he was struggling as much now. “I’m fine, Cassie. Just—just got the wind knocked out of me.”

  “Dude, is she kidding?” one of the boys asked. “You had a heart attack?”

  Cass growled. “No, I’m not kidding, and, yes, he had a heart attack last week. And he’s not supposed to be doing anything strenuous, but he’s too damn stubborn to listen to his doctor and therapists.”

  “Sorry, we didn’t know,” another boy said.

  As Stefan slowly got to his feet, Cass stood and gave him a dirty look before turning to the boys and reining in her anger. “It’s not your fault. Obviously, the stubborn mule didn’t want you to know. Now that you do, if he tries to play any sports around here again, without me telling you it’s okay, you have my permission to tell him to bugger off.”

  The three boys—actually, now that she looked at them, young men was a more appropriate description—the young men grinned at her and the tallest one said, “Stefan, dude, I like her, but you better watch your ass. She’s not gonna take any crap from you.”

  “Damn right I’m not.”

  When she scowled at Stefan again, she found him frowning at her. Her breath hitched and her heart raced because she’d seen that look on his face many times before when he’d been in full-Dom mode. Well, poo on him because she was in health-care-giver mode, and she wasn’t backing down. She straightened her spine and crossed her arms. “We can discuss this out here with an audience or we can go inside, and I can reheat the dinner I brought from Donovan’s for you. What’ll it be?”

  13

  As he sat at the kitchen table, Stefan silently watched Cassie stomp around his kitchen, reheating the food she’d brought and setting up for their dinner. She’d informed him there was enough for both of them, and, whether he liked it or not, she’d be eating with him because she was starving. At least she hadn’t been so pissed off at him that she did what she’d threatened to do at one point—pour his chocolate mint shake down the drain. Although, every time she came close to the table, he clutched the tall takeout cup a little harder in case she got any ideas to take it away from him. He realized this was the first time he’d ever seen her pissed off. Annoyed—yes. Angry—yes. Pissed off to the point he was afraid every time she neared his butcher knives in case she decided to try and cut off his manhood—no, that was a first.

  He had to admit, he’d almost laughed earlier when she’d called him a stubborn mule, since his sister had used that exact wording not more than thirty minutes before that. But he’d seen the fear in Cassie’s eyes before her outrage had taken over when she’d realized he wasn’t having another heart attack. Yeah, playing basketball with the teens and pushing himself past his current limits had been stupid, but he hadn’t comprehended it until he’d heard Cassie’s panicked voice yelling for someone to call 9-1-1. He’d scared the living daylights out of her.

  Pushing back from the table, he stood and stepped in front of her when she turned back from the refrigerator with a container of butter in her hand. She frowned and stared daggers at him. Yup, she w
as still at the pissed off level. He’d been hoping she would’ve brought it down a few notches by then. He cupped her chin, praying she wouldn’t bite his hand. “Cassie, I’m really sorry I frightened you.”

  He’d expected her to start railing at him again, so he was taken off guard when tears filled her eyes. She tried to pivot away from him, but he stopped her and pulled her into his arms. As she sobbed against his chest, soaking his shirt, he ran one hand down the back of her head while the other rubbed circles over her back. “Shh, little pixie. I’m so, so sorry. I was an idiot for pushing myself.”

  “Yes, you—you were,” she mumbled into his chest.

  As she tried to get her tears under control, Stefan just held her. How had he never noticed how perfectly her body conformed to his? The contours of her chest, abdomen, and hips fit against his as if they were two connecting pieces of the same puzzle.

  God, he shouldn’t be thinking like that. Now, more than ever, he had nothing to give her. He could drop dead at any minute—hell, he’d already done it once—and his career status was up in the air. He mentally smacked himself in the head. Between his most-likely medical discharge, his savings, and his trust fund, he didn’t need to work. But sitting home on his ass, playing video games was not what he wanted to do with the rest of his life, no matter how much time he had left. He was just using that as an excuse to keep Cassie at a distance.

  Face the facts, you idiot. You’re just no good at relationships.

  The two non-D/s relationships he’d had in college, before becoming a Dom, had ended in disaster. One of the women had even stalked him for months afterward, prompting him to file an order of protection against her. The other had tried to slander him and get him kicked out of school after he’d broken up with her and gone out on a date with a woman she’d disliked. Obviously, he’d made some poor choices in his youth.

  Then a friend had taken him to a munch where he’d learned about the lifestyle. So many things had clicked into place for him after that. A Shibari demonstration he’d observed turned out to be the icing on the cake. Over the next few years, he’d immersed himself in the BDSM community and studied the art of sensual rope bondage from a Shibari Master.

  While tying a sub up in his ropes was his favorite thing about being a Dom, the second-best things were the contracted end dates on any relationships he went into. At first, they hadn’t mattered. He’d collared several subs and even a slave once, without any concern for an end date or putting one into a contract. But when a few of those D/s relationships had ended as poorly as his non-D/s ones had, he’d no longer sign a contract without a specific end date—even if it was renewable each month. He made sure, going into the negotiations, the submissive knew their association would only be Dom/sub and not boyfriend/girlfriend. Since then, he’d never regretted a single one of those end dates . . . until now.

  Pulling back, he lifted Cassie’s chin until her gaze met his. Damn, she was so freaking pretty, and there was only one way to make her even prettier. “After dinner, would you like to play, little pixie?”

  Her wet eyes darkened with desire, and that brought his semi-erect cock up to full mast. But then her next words were the equivalent of throwing a bucket of ice-cold water on him. “No, Sir.” She shook her head, her gaze dropping to his chest. “I don’t think we should. I-I really need to go home after we eat—I have a lot of studying to do for a test on Monday night. In fact, I’ll just take my dinner home with me and eat it there while I study. I’m really not hungry right now.”

  That was complete and utter bullshit—at least the “not hungry” part of it. She’d told him only five minutes ago that she was starving. Normally, he’d call a sub out for lying to him—collared or not—and dispense a proper punishment, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it right now. Cassie had taken time out of her evening to bring him his favorite foods and shake from Donovan’s, and what had he done? Scared the shit out of her, made her cry, then tried to smooth it all over with an unspoken promise to tie her up in his ropes until she couldn’t move before fucking her until she screamed his name.

  Shit. Light-bulb moment. Sex was on his current no-strenuous-activities list. The cardiologist had told him to avoid that particular deed for a few weeks—among plenty of others—until his second stress test, which was scheduled for next month. Cassie would probably know about that and most likely thought he was ignoring the doctor’s orders again.

  “We don’t have to have sex, Cassie. Let me just practice and bring you pleasure.” When she shook her head again, he scrambled to say something—anything to keep her from leaving him here alone. “Or, we could just eat and watch TV. You have all weekend to study. It was so nice of you to bring me dinner, the least I can do is share the meal with you. Then we can just hang out and find a movie to watch. That way, you can keep an eye on me and make sure I don’t do anything else I’m not supposed to.”

  She didn’t respond right away, but her expression told him she was starting to waiver, so he brought out the big guns. “Please, my little pixie? I’ll even let you choose the movie. You can pick the corniest chick-flick there is, and I won’t complain about it one bit.” At least he wouldn’t verbally, but, in his mind, he might rattle off a few terms of disgust.

  Taking a deep breath, Cassie let it out slowly as Stefan held his own. “Okay. I’ll stay.” She pointed a finger at him. “But just for dinner and a movie. No scening or anything else that’s off-limits to you until your next stress test.”

  The smile that spread across his face was the biggest and most heart-felt he’d had since landing in the hospital. “Deal.”

  14

  Twenty months ago . . .

  “Hey, Cassandra.”

  Putting a tray of dirty, empty glasses and water bottles she’d collected from several tables onto the bar, she glanced up at the bartender. He was one of the Doms she’d avoided playing with. Something about him made her uncomfortable, but at least he wasn’t pushy like a few of them could be after she’d repeatedly turned them down. As a coworker and bartender, though, he was a nice enough guy. Cass was just picky about who she scened with. “Yes, Master Dennis?”

  The tall man, dressed in black leather pants and maroon T-shirt, handed her two cold bottles of water. “I know your shift is just about over, but please take these to Sasha. She called over here to say, and I quote, ‘I’m dying of thirst, Sir.’ ”

  Cass chuckled. “That sounds like her. I’ll bring them over to her and put her out of her misery, Sir.”

  “Thanks. After that, Master Ian wants you to find him down in the pit.”

  “Okay, Sir. Thank you.” She wondered what the Dom-in-residence wanted with her. It wasn’t to play, since he was now happily engaged to his beautiful sub, Angie Beckett, and neither of them were into having a third in any of their scenes.

  Hurrying to the other side of the oval balcony, which looked down over the first floor “pit” where many BDSM scenes were being played out, she headed toward the club’s small fetish boutique. It was a Saturday night at The Covenant and busier than usual for some reason. She’d been running almost nonstop during her four-hour waitressing shift. Thankfully, she got a ten-minute break every forty minutes.

  Entering the shop, she smiled when Sasha greeted her with her palms up and her fingers wiggling in a “gimme” motion. “I’m dying here, girl!”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  Sasha took one of the bottles, cracked it open, and chugged a quarter of it. “Ahhhhh. Thank you!”

  “Where’s the refillable bottle you always bring?”

  “Accidentally left it in the locker room, and it’s been too busy to go down and get it. This is the first time in over two hours that I’ve been alone for more than five minutes. We got in a shipment of lingerie from a new high-end designer and another one with some interesting toys yesterday, and it seemed like everyone wanted to take a look. They obviously liked what they saw because Master Mitch already needs to reorder a few things.” After putting the t
wo bottles on a shelf under the register, she stepped out from behind the counter. “And oh-em-gee! You have to see what Master Ian bought for Angie. She’s going to look gorgeous in it. I’m so damn jealous of that girl because she looks amazing in practically anything, but she’s too freaking nice for me to hold it against her.” Selecting a hanger from one of the racks, she held up a shiny gold bra and thong set with a matching collar and wristlets. A sheer, purple harem skirt completed the ensemble.

  “Tell me this isn’t sexy as fuck! Master Ian has amazing taste to go with his lingerie fetish. I swear he’s in here at least three or four times a month, and that’s in addition to the stuff Angie says he orders online. She’s got to have a separate closet just for her lingerie.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised. Speaking of Master Ian, though, I have to run. He wanted to see me after my shift.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  The twinkle in her curvy friend’s eyes and the humor in her tone said she knew something Cass didn’t. Folding her arms, Cass glared at her. “All right, spill it, girl, and make it quick.”

  Sasha shrugged nonchalantly as she neatened the racks of sexy lingerie. “It’s nothing really. I just might’ve . . . sorta . . . kinda overheard Master Ian telling Master Ben he was going to introduce you to Master Stefan tonight and negotiate a Shibari scene for you on the big stage.”

  Cass’s eyes bugged out. “Seriously?” Master Stefan was a hunk of the highest order, and on top of that, he was a Shibari Master—right up her alley. He’d joined The Covenant last month, but Cass had only seen him there a few times, and she’d either been working or had already negotiated to play with another Dom. She’d also never had an opportunity to speak to him or watch him scene yet. She’d heard through the submissive rumor mill he was in the Coast Guard, which she could totally see with his amazing, lean and muscular physique and salt-and-pepper crewcut. Some guys looked much older when they started going gray, but Master Stefan was in his midthirties, and all the touch of gray did for him was make him even hotter, in her opinion. He totally rocked it.