Knot a Chance: Doms of The Covenant Book 3

by Samantha A. Cole

  A snort was his response. “You’re really an ass, you know that?”

  “So I’ve been told numerous times. Tick-tock, Lundquist. What’s it gonna be?”

  He shook his head then winced and stopped as if the act had caused him some agony. From the number of empty beer bottles Mitch had thrown out, it probably had. “I don’t know. Hell, if the Coast Guard doesn’t want me, then . . . seriously, Ian, a desk job with you would be just as bad as a desk job with the Guard.”

  Tilting his head back, Ian spoke to the ceiling. “Why am I surrounded by twatwaffles? I mean, what have I ever done to piss you off so much that these people give me grief? Huh?” He returned his attention to Stefan. “It’s not a fucking desk job. Will you be sitting at a desk some of the time, filling out paperwork and typing shit into the computer? Yeah, absolutely. Even I have to do that. Will you be doing other shit outside the office? Fuck, yeah. Hell, if your doctor okays it, I’ll even send you up in the helicopter with Babs for one of her roller coaster rides, if you want. But I should warn you—bring a barf bag.” He leaned forward, placing his arms on his knees. “Look, twat-knot. This isn’t a pity job offering, nor are you going to be twiddling your thumbs half the time. Once your cardiologist gives you the green light, I want your ass showing these guys how things are done when the shit hits the fan. I don’t offer people jobs just because they’re my friends. You’ve got the right stuff for this position, but if you don’t want it, feel free to pass and apply for a job at McDonald’s or Burger King. I’m sure they could use a guy with SAR training to make some fries.”

  Long seconds passed as the man thought it over. Ian knew he was going to say yes at some point—Stefan just needed to let the shock wear off before the offer settled in his hungover mind. Ian had told him the truth, this wasn’t a pity job offering. He knew the lieutenant commander had been a damn good Coastie and had the leadership skills to excel in the private sector.

  Finally, Stefan nodded. “I want to see the program’s business plan before I give a definite yes, but, yeah, I think I’m in.”

  Ian grinned. “Glad to hear it. Since you’re still on medical leave from the Guard, you can start next week if you’d like. There’s a lot of setup that needs to happen before the first sessions can be announced. I’ll email you the business plan, and if you’ve got any details or suggestions you’d like to add to it, let me know.”

  Stefan’s gaze shot to Mitch. “Why’d you tag along?”

  Ian’s cousin shrugged. “Last time he held an intervention like this, he and Chase Dixon dumped buckets of ice water on their buddy, Tuff, while he was sleeping off a drunken stupor in bed. I came along to make sure he didn’t do the same to you.” He smirked. “You know, since you’re recovering from a major heart attack and all.”

  A bark of laughter erupted from Stefan, and he smiled for the first time since they’d gotten there. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

  “So, does this mean you’re going to start your rehab and meds again and cut out all this other crap?”

  He sighed. “Yeah, I’m a dumbass, and I’ll get my act straight again.”

  “You’re not a dumbass—you’re a twat-knot.” Ian got to his feet and gave the Shibari Master a black look that had made many men almost pee in their pants. He fisted his hands. “And if I ever . . . ever hear of you suggesting to a sub that you play while you’re three sheets to the wind again, I’ll kick your fucking ass—no holds-barred. Got it?”

  A queasy look came over the other man’s face, and he winced. “Yeah, I know I fucked up and owe Cassie an apology. I wouldn’t have really gone through with it—I think I was hoping she’d leave because I didn’t want to deal with her right then. Regardless, I swear it won’t happen again.”

  “It better not.” His hands relaxed again. “Now that that’s all taken care of, come by the club later—you haven’t been there in weeks, and we’ve got a big surprise happening tonight around eight.”

  “What’s going on?” Stefan asked as he stood.

  Rolling his eyes, Ian started for the front door. “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I fucking told you, now would it?”

  A few minutes later, Mitch and Ian were back in the truck, exiting the complex. Mitch eyed his cousin with both amusement and curiosity. “So, what’s this big surprise at the club?”

  “Hell if I know—I just wanted him to get his ass back there.” And together with the woman who’d fallen in love with him. “I’ve got a few hours to think of something.”

  20

  Pulling into the club parking lot, Stefan hit redial on his phone one more time. Once again, Cass’s voice mail kicked in. Damn it. He’d been calling her all day to apologize for being a horse’s ass—yeah, he wasn’t calling himself a twat-knot—to her yesterday, but she hadn’t returned any of his calls or responded to his texts. Turnabout was fair play, apparently, since he hadn’t accepted any of her calls all week and his texts had been short and not so sweet. He’d been tempted several times to call Mitch and get her home address—yes, he was a dick for not knowing where she lived—so he could swing by to see her. But he wasn’t sure if the club owner would give it to him. He also wasn’t sure if Cassie would slam the door in his face. He wasn’t ready for that humiliation yet.

  Stefan should’ve admitted to himself there was a life outside of the Guard, but he’d been too caught up in losing out on the carefully laid plans he’d made for the rest of his career. His goal had been to retire at the rank of Captain or higher. But after Cassie, and then Ian, had reamed his ass, he’d realized there was so much more to life. There were family, friends, and adventures. And then there was Cassie. She’d walked out of his life twice now. This second time was his fault, without a doubt, but he’d never gotten around to finding out why she’d said her safeword and declined to sign their last contract. The more he thought about it now, the more it bugged him. And the more it bugged him, the more he realized she meant more to him than any other sub ever had—more than any other woman ever had. A life without Cassie in it looked kind of bleak to him, whether he was in or out of the Guard, but he didn’t know if he had a chance to get her back now. Especially not after he’d screwed up yesterday.

  After Ian and Mitch had left that morning, Stefan had finished cleaning up the rest of his place, then showered, steaming the last of the alcohol out of his system, and shaved. While having a breakfast of egg whites, spinach, mushrooms, and low-fat cheese, he’d read through the prospectus Ian had emailed him. Stefan had been impressed with the plans and details, although he hadn’t expected anything less. The Sawyer brothers had built a successful security business, with individual, corporate, and government clients and contracts, over the past six or seven years since leaving their careers with the Navy SEALs behind. They’d hired fellow SEALs, in addition to members of other military branches and law enforcement. From what Stefan knew from interacting with most of them, both in and out of the club, none had any regrets about leaving their respective careers to go into the private sector. If they could do it, so could Stefan.

  From what he’d seen in the business plan, Ian had been right—there would be plenty to keep Stefan busy. With his medical issues, he might not ever be able to go out into the field, but since reaching the rank of Lieutenant Commander, he’d been directing the rescues from the Sector Command Center anyway, instead of participating in them. He’d also been sharing his years of experience in SARs with the next generation of team members, making sure they were ready for anything that could go FUBAR. Now, he was being given the chance to help train operatives and police officers, so he would still be working with the next generation, just in the private sector.

  When one door closes, another one opens, right? Or was it a window that opened? Oh, who the hell cares? All he knew was his professional life was back on track again, and he’d get his health back there too, but now he had to work on his private life. And that meant he had to figure out what he was going to do about Cassie. Did he want more than a D/s relationship
with her? Did she want more? And with him? Would she want to risk being with a man who’d already died once? And what about him? Was he willing to risk offering her more than he’d ever given another woman only to find out she didn’t want it? Did he miss her because he’d gotten comfortable with her or because she’d become special to him? He was afraid to even think of the word “love,” but is that what he felt for her? God, it shouldn’t be this hard to figure this shit out, right?

  “Argh! Fuck this!” He exited the truck and slammed the door a little harder than necessary. He didn’t even know why he’d showed up at the club tonight. He couldn’t give two flying fucks what the surprise was because Cassie wouldn’t be there—it was Thursday, and she had a class tonight. Maybe there was a chance she’d stop by afterward, although he doubted it. Not after she’d worked all day then rushed to school for three hours of class.

  “Master Stefan, it’s so good to see you. How’re you feeling?” Charlotte Roth, a.k.a. Mistress China, asked as she strolled across the parking lot toward him, dressed in a black catsuit and red thigh-high boots, with Mike Donovan on her heels. Mike was the owner of Donovan’s Pub, but here he was the gorgeous Mistress’s submissive boyfriend. It’d been a bit of a culture shock for Mike when he’d been drawn into the lifestyle by Charlotte, but he seemed to be adjusting nicely for someone who was an alpha male outside the club and their bedroom.

  “I’m doing well, Mistress. Thank you.” He gave her a friendly peck on her cheek. “Hello, Mike.”

  The other man bowed his head in respect for a moment. Anywhere else, Mike would’ve offered his hand to shake, but, here, he was a submissive, and Stefan was a Dom, whom he had to defer to with respect and proper protocol. “Hello, Sir. You’re looking much better than when I saw you in the hospital.”

  “I feel much better. Not a hundred percent yet but getting there. Thanks again for sending over all the food. That hospital crap wasn’t edible most of the time.” Mike had arranged for someone to bring Stefan a healthy and tasty lunch and dinner every day after he’d been moved from the CCU to the step-down unit.

  “I was happy to do it. Cassie had given me a list of menu items that were your favorites, so I could make them for you.”

  Stefan wasn’t surprised to hear that. She’d been on top of everything that had to do with his recovery. It warmed him to know she’d gone through so much trouble to take care of him, then it chilled him when he remembered how much of a douche he’d been to her yesterday.

  The trio started walking toward the staircase that would take them to the second story of the former warehouse that now housed The Covenant on the east side of the Trident Security compound. “Any idea what surprise event is happening tonight?” Stefan asked.

  Charlotte frowned and shook her head. “I didn’t know there was a special event tonight. Do you know anything about it, Michael?”

  “No, Mistress. I haven’t heard anything about it either.”

  “Hmm. Well, then, let’s go find out, shall we?”

  Moments later, they entered The Covenant’s lobby and Stefan was greeted by several Doms and submissives, welcoming him back and inquiring about his current state, as Charlotte and Mike continued into the main portion of the club. Word had obviously spread throughout the club’s membership, and, for the first time, he found it didn’t bother him having everyone know about his heart attack—at least not there. The members of The Covenant tended to be one big family. They looked out for each other. They celebrated accomplishments and milestones and grieved losses with each other. And they occasionally fought and made up like most families did.

  As he approached the big, double, wooden doors that led to the main club, Travis “Tiny” Daultry grinned at him, his pearly whites bright in contrast to his dark skin, and held out his hand. The six-foot-eight mountain of a man was the head of security for both the club and the compound. “Stefan, my man. Good to see you back. Heard you might be joining the crew on the other side of the fence.”

  He was apparently referring to the chain-link fence that separated the club from the rest of the Trident Security compound.

  Stefan shook the man’s hand, which was almost the size of a baseball glove. “Hey, Tiny. It’s good to be back. And I’m thinking about it. Haven’t given the boys a definite yes yet, but I’m leaning toward it.”

  “Glad to hear it.” He opened one of the doors for Stefan. “Have a good time tonight.”

  “Thanks.” Stefan strode in, and his senses were immediately assaulted by the familiar sights, sounds, and smells of the sex club. As always, they soothed him in a way most vanilla people could never understand. He was greeted by more people as he made his way to the bar to grab a bottle of water. The last thing he needed tonight was more alcohol. He’d finally gotten the remnants of yesterday’s binge out of his system, and he didn’t need another hangover tomorrow. He’d even gone so far as to dump the remaining six bottles of beer from the eighteen pack he’d torn through yesterday. It was time to get back on his healthy diet again too.

  After getting his drink, and chatting with a few people at the bar, he strolled to the top of the grand staircase and gave his membership card to the bouncer standing there. The card was scanned for the number of alcoholic drinks Stefan had been served—which was zero—and then returned to him. There was a two-drink maximum before entry to the play areas was denied. The bouncer nodded, signaling Stefan was cleared to head down to the pit.

  The place was hopping. Music pounded from the overhead speakers, but it still didn’t drown out the screams of pain and ecstasy coming from the play areas below. The scents of leather, citrus, and sex commingled, enticingly. Doms and subs in a varying array of fet-wear were either playing, observing scenes, or just enjoying some conversation with like- and open-minded people.

  At the bottom of the staircase, Stefan found Mitch, with his submissives, Tyler and Tori—he was engaged to both—chatting with Brody and Fancy Evans. Stefan greeted both Doms with a handshake, gave a nod hello to Tyler, who was a switch in submissive mode as indicated by the collar he wore, and then kissed both women on the cheek.

  “It’s good to see you, Fancy,” Stefan said with a smile. He hadn’t seen Brody’s wife at the club since she’d given birth a little over four months ago. “How’s little Zane doing? Is he over in the new child-care center?”

  With more and more of the Trident Security teams and their close friends having kids, a new little cottage had been added to the compound on the other side of the parking lot from the club. Several submissives were scheduled to spend a few hours babysitting, and the time went toward their membership fees, just like the wait-staff, front desk attendants, and the two women who alternated working in the boutique.

  “He’s doing great, Sir,” the curvaceous, auburn-haired beauty responded. “He’s growing like a weed, cute as a bug, and laughs all the time. He’s definitely his father’s son, I’ll tell you that.”

  Brody grinned and puffed out his chest. “Damn right he is.”

  Fancy giggled as her husband tucked her into his side. “But Zane’s still too young to bring him to child-care, so our next-door neighbors, Amy and Kevin, offered to watch him for a few hours, so we could have a night out. Their twins, Taylor and McKenna, are madly in love with him. They can’t wait until they’re old enough to babysit him on their own.”

  Stefan had a vague memory of the six-year-old girls who lived next door to “Mista Brophy” and “Mrs. Fancy,” as they so fondly called the couple. “So, what’s this surprise Ian’s talking about? No one seems to know anything about it.”

  “Actually,” Mitch began, “Ian’s waiting for you over at the center stage.”

  His eyes narrowed in confusion. “Me? What for?”

  “He needs your help with something, twat-knot.” The submissives did their best to hide amused grins, as Mitch chuckled. “I really get a kick out of that one.”

  Groaning at the new nickname, Stefan crossed his arms and waited a moment, expecting the club�
�s co-owner to fill in the blanks of the surprise a little more, but the man wasn’t forthcoming. From Mitch’s and Brody’s grins, though, it was clear they were up to something, and whatever it was, Ian was probably the one who’d come up with the idea. And that made Stefan very nervous.

  He wondered if it was too late to hightail it out of there, and Brody confirmed his fear. “Don’t be a chickenshit and leave—it’s nothing bad.”

  Well, at least one jackass wasn’t calling him a twat-knot. Glancing around, Stefan huffed. “Fine, but I really hate surprises. He better remember that shocking someone who recently had a fucking heart attack isn’t the brightest thing to do.”

  “Don’t worry,” Mitch said with a grin. “I made sure the defibrillators were all in working order earlier.”

  “Asshole,” Stefan replied without any heat behind it. He’d rather deal with sarcasm and friendly banter than everyone’s sympathy. “All right, let me get this over with.”

  Leaving the small group, he made his way across the room, stopping several more times when people said, “Hello,” and asked how he was feeling. When he reached the center stage, Ian was standing there talking to T. Carter. Unlike most members, Stefan knew the physically fit, blond man was a government spy for a black-ops agency ninety-nine percent of US law enforcement and military personnel had never heard of. His submissive/girlfriend, Jordyn, was a fellow agent too. That much Stefan knew—what he didn’t know was the agency’s name and what the damn “T” stood for. Apparently, the Dom hated the name he’d been given at birth and had been known as T. or Carter since his teens.

  “Dude!” Carter held out his hand and, when Stefan shook it, pulled him into a man hug and slapped his back a few times. “Glad to see you upright and breathing. How’re you feeling?”