In the end, she'd thrown her hands up in the air—metaphorically, of course—and expressed a great deal of sympathy for his plight. She'd referred him to one of the other psychologists in the practice, a retired US Army Captain who had exponential experience in counselling soldiers with amputations.
And now she was limp in her chair, her cheek smashed against the wood, and she was pretty damn sure she was drooling. Ugh. She lifted her head slowly, tentatively wiping at her mouth. Relieved to find it dry, she picked up her phone and slumped back. Her deli sandwich sat to one side, completely unappetizing. With a look of disgust, she reached out and shoved it off the edge of the desk into the trash can.
The afternoon promised to be just as rough. Anarchy could be a tough cookie to crack, and since the night she'd deliberately mowed down an assassin with her Dom's truck—mangling the fucker, Connie thought with pride—that cookie was decorated with sharp shreds of steel. But inside…Jasper's kitten was hurting more than she let on, a fact her Dom had noticed with displeasure.
Connie pulled up a new message on her phone, her brows drawing together at the contact’s name: Master Thane.
She almost went off on a mental rampage, cursing him out while she wondered when the hell he'd snuck his number into her phone. But then she realized she'd given him ample opportunities over the weekend to pull what she considered an incredibly dominant move.
You don't want to take my number? Tough shit, sugar, you'll take it anyway. Shit, it was really bad she'd thought that in Thane's voice. He was getting inside her head, hooking his claws in.
Scowling, she opened the message and simply stared at the screen.
Master Thane: Good afternoon, Constance. A package has been delivered to your office. Inside, you'll find two items. I expect you to be wearing the obvious one when I pick you up at 5.30…and I will be checking to make sure you’ve followed orders.
The absolute fucking gall of the man, she thought furiously. Her fingers attacked the keypad, firing back a message that should burn his eyeballs from their sockets when he read it.
Connie: My office is not to be included in your expanding arsenal of playgrounds, Thane. This is my work space, and it's my career you're fucking with. I don't need you to pick me up as I drove myself here this morning and fully intend to drive myself home. Alone. I don't require your company tonight, so go kiss ass with your club buddies.
Almost immediately, three little dots popped up. Oh, he was quick off the mark, but she was ready to go to war.
Master Thane: Sugar, you're going to want to take a breath before your head pops off—I can hear the steam whistling from your ears from here. Your career is perfectly safe, and your office is nothing but the staging area. Wear the gift or else I'll be adding more to the spanking you just earned.
Master Thane: Oh, and you will need a ride home as I bribed Jasper to hotwire your car when he brought Anarchy to your office ten minutes ago. If you're not wearing your present, your bare ass will be christening my truck seat. Have a good afternoon, sugar.
Her shitty morning forgotten, Connie bolted out of her chair and flew to the blinds keeping the hot Arizona sun from glaring through the windows. She yanked them up, shoved her window open, and stuck her head into the humid air, searching the parking lot below. Her sharp exclamation of fury echoed, drawing several pairs of eyes up toward her.
Slamming the window shut, she stalked back to her desk and threw herself into her chair. Instead of messaging Thane, she pulled up Jasper's number and called him. Her fingers tapped on the desktop agitatedly as she waited for him to pick up.
“Fairfax.”
“Bring my goddamn car back to my office, Jasper, before I call the police and report it stolen!”
“Sorry, Constance, no can do.” The line went dead.
“Jasper? Jasper! Oh, you two are going to rue this fucking day,” she hissed. They were backing her into a corner again, but this time, she was on her territory with no Thane to soften her up with those gentle hands and amber eyes sucking her into submission. She called him again and he picked up after several long moments. “Jasper, I am not messing around with you.”
“Probably not,” he agreed easily. Goddamn it, she could almost hear him shrug. “But see, if you call the cops on me, things might escalate. I haven't had a damn good car chase with the police for a while, and I'm a superior driver compared to the boys in blue. That doesn't mean I can account for the other idiots getting in my way.”
“Are you threatening to crash my car, Jasper?” she asked dangerously.
He scoffed. “I would never destroy your property, Connie. But accidents happen. Now, go calm yourself down and prepare for an afternoon with my kitten. Don't let her drive if she's too upset, okay? I don't give a shit about my truck, brand new or not, but you know what she means to me. Just…call me if you think I need to come pick her up?”
Connie expelled an explosive breath and rubbed her forehead. Jasper was one of her favorite people. One of the most troubled, too, or had been until he'd stopped resisting Anarchy's efforts to get closer to him. He still had issues with his past, which was his asshole parents' doing, and their disappearance after attempting to kidnap Archie was concerning, but Atticus and his crack team of investigators were on the case.
He was finally happy, and Connie couldn't be more pleased for him. It was difficult to remain mad when every word he spoke was full of love for the woman he'd almost thrown away through fear. “I'm pissed at you, Jasper, not her. Even if I was, I wouldn't let her drive if I thought she'd come to any harm.”
“Thanks, Con. Try not to rub a hole through your forehead,” he advised, then the line went dead a second time.
Men. It was times like these that she wondered whether it was worth just becoming gay and living a quiet, pleasant life with a fun, sassy female submissive. She dropped her hand from her forehead, and saw she only had a couple of minutes before Anarchy would be allowed through to the office. Clicking back onto her messages, she pulled Thane's up and gave it the bird.
Connie: So you're corrupting the other Masters now? Don't bother picking me up, I can walk.
Master Thane: You won't be able to if you don't lose the attitude.
Connie: You hired someone to steal my car, jackass. Did you think I'd be pleased?
Someone knocked on the door as she waited for a reply. Almost snarling, Connie snapped, “Come in, goddamn it,” as she braced for Thane's reply. She didn't even glance up, her eyes were so focused on the damned dots. Was she acting a little insane? Possibly. But if she was, it was on Thane's head. Why did he like pissing her off? Negative attention was not the same as positive, no matter what anyone said.
A small box dropped down on her desk, pretty much under her nose. She jerked back, looked up, and found Anarchy giving her a hesitant smile. “Anarchy.”
“I think I've worn that expression more times than I can count,” Jasper's kitten said with a quiet laugh. “Part pissed off, part frustrated, and part making a vow to go commando for the foreseeable future. Don't mind me,” she added when Thane's text lit up the screen. “Jasper left me his truck so I can drive myself back. I'm planning on hitting the new lingerie store in the mall if you want to come?”
An automatic refusal came to mind, but Connie stopped herself before she vocalized it. She usually finished sessions about four o'clock if her patient list was light enough, then spent an hour or two updating files, doing research, or attending to whatever outstanding matters were on her desk.
There was no reason she couldn't skip class early, so to speak, was there? Go to the mall, relax and forget about the charming Dom twisting her life into chaos, and then get her good friend Archie to drive her home. Why, yes, that sounded like an idyllic afternoon. “I think I'd like that. Let me fire an email off to the receptionist, okay? Are you okay to drop me off at home after?”
“Sure! Jasper won't mind. Did Thane give you a ride to work this morning?”
“No. I drove, but my car seems to be
out of commission for the rest of the day.” Oh, it would singe Thane's ass over an open fire to have his clever little scheme thrown out of whack. “Give me two secs, sweetheart, and we'll get started.”
Anarchy walked over to the couch with a bounce in her step. She was like this at the start of a session, and Connie was always sad to see the sparkle fade. One day, she vowed, Archie would leave her office as buoyantly as she arrived.
With a wiggle of the mouse, Connie brought up the interoffice messaging system on her computer and sent the receptionist—it was Shauna's shift today—telling her that Connie would be leaving the office after her current session ended. With that done, she checked the message Thane had sent, and smirked.
Master Thane: 17.30, sugar.
Master Thane would have a shock, she thought, her mood vastly improved. She reached for the box against her will, intrigued. About ten inches long, three inches high, and five inches wide, the display box was shiny, black, and calling to her. Remembering he was a sneaky bastard, especially using Archie as his mule, Connie lifted the lid, then slapped it down again.
No fucking way.
That was the last straw, she decided with a snarl. Who the hell did he think he was, sending her a giftbox that contained a thick anal plug and a bottle of lube secured firmly in foam packaging at work. Lifting the lid again, she saw he'd written on the underneath.
There's method to my madness, sugar. Be brave and wear the plug. I'll make it worth your while.
Nothing could compel her to put that thing in herself, and she refused to allow him anywhere near her posterior ever again. Jesus, was it not enough for him that she'd surrendered one of the most fortified parts of herself to him last night, allowing him to use not one but two fingers in her asshole? Okay, in the privacy of her thoughts, she might be able to admit that once she'd forced herself to endure the discomfort, having both holes filled at the same time had been…illuminating. The man was too well hung to have more than fingers up her ass when his cock occupied her pussy, and no one would persuade her otherwise.
Shoving the box in the bottom drawer of her desk, Connie rose from her chair and stretched. Setting her brain into work mode, she grabbed two bottles of apple juice and joined Archie on the couch, sitting beside her friend rather than in her usual chair. “Okay, Anarchy. Have you got anything you want to start the session with?”
The sweet little blonde accepted a bottle of juice and shook her head. “Nope. Feeling pretty good at the moment.”
“Mmmn-hmm.” Connie kicked her shoes off and made herself comfortable. She'd learned that if she presented herself in a professional capacity with Archie, her friend clammed up and wouldn't talk. So, there was no notepad and pen, no sitting in the chair, and no shoes. Jasper's kitten relaxed and spilled more details when they talked in a casual fashion, which was fine with Connie. Whatever got the job done. “Maybe we should begin with the bombshell Jasper dropped last night. Did you know he was planning a demonstration of that nature?”
Archie flushed bright red from her throat to her hairline. “When we first scened together, we went through my limits, obviously. Jasper brought up fisting and I…well, I hedged. He gave me a lot of assurances about how he'd take care of me, and I might have given him the green light.” She circled a fingertip around the cap of the juice bottle. “He's mentioned it a few times recently, testing the waters I think, and they've been…receptive.”
“Expanding your horizons. That's good, Archie. If it's something you have an urge to try, go for it. You trust Jasper, and he won't hurt you. I was concerned about the public demonstration—are you okay with it?”
“I guess. I asked him if he'd blindfold me so I can't see anyone, but he said he needs to be able to see my eyes.” Restlessly, Archie moved her shoulders. “It's no different to playing in the barn, I guess. I've been naked in front of just about everyone in the club, being tortured by the resident sadist, so this shouldn't be too different. I just…I don't want…”
“It's okay, sweetheart. Just say it.”
“I did some research online. I've kept it hidden from Jasper because it's mainly porn sites and how-to guides. I mean, it's kinda hot to watch, but when I put myself in that position, imagine it happening to me, I don't know if I can do it. You know me, Connie, I love pain. But I don't want to be in full view of everyone and tap out by blurting my safeword. It reflects badly on Jasper, and I don’t want to tarnish his reputation.”
“That's the wrong way to think about it. A safeword is used for a purpose. Tapping out if things get to be too much is the only way to handle it, Archie. Jasper loves inflicting pain if it's welcome, not because you feel you should be pushing through the pain to make him happy. Jasper's reputation is solid, so don't worry about putting a dent in it.”
“But—”
“It's not about enduring pain, Archie. Push yourself as far as you and your limits will allow—Jasper will be proud of you. If you take a few seconds more than you thought you could, that's an achievement. But if you negate your own limits, suffer unnecessarily, your Dom will make your life hell.” Connie lifted her eyebrow when her friend opened her mouth. “We've had this discussion more than once prior to this, sweetheart. I'm sure Jasper has spoken to you about it as well.”
“Well, yeah,” Archie muttered unhappily.
Connie pursed her lips. “Have you considered telling him you don't want to do it? No, let me amend that. Have you considered telling him you don't want to do it under those circumstances? Tell him you're worried, explain to him that you have concerns about participating in a demonstration which is going to garner some attention within the club.”
“I think he's looking forward to it—I don't want to ruin that for him.”
“Is he looking forward to it because he gets to show off his skills in front of everyone, do you think? Or because he gets to experience something new and exciting with you?” Oh, now that was making her think, Connie mused, watching Archie's eyes lose focus.
“Maybe both?”
“Maybe,” Connie agreed slowly. “I think one will outweigh the other. Can you guess which?”
Archie lost her unfocused look as her lips curved into an adorable smile. Blushing, she ducked her head. “He likes spending time with me, doing new things. I, uh…do you think he'll listen if I talk to him? Exhibitionism is fine, I kind of enjoy it, but this just seems…intimate. Too intimate to share, you know?”
“Yeah, I get it. Talk to him, Archie, it's the only way you'll get where you need to be.” Popping the lid on her juice, Connie drank deep. Gesturing with the bottle, she decided to change subjects and give Archie time to process what she had to do. “Last week, we spoke about nightmares. Namely, the volume and frequency of yours. Did you implement any of the counteractive measures we discussed?”
This was where Anarchy's eager tongue would lose some of its flexibility. As if on cue, Archie shut down, bringing in her walls and sinking further into the couch with a mulish expression. It was that damn stubborn streak keeping her friend shrouded in the nightmares. In her subconscious, the words she didn't say festered and manifested in dreams.
Connie had been in that position once, tormented by nightmares about Evan and what he'd done. Sure, she'd closed herself off, just like Anarchy, but Connie didn't have—at that time—the same support that Archie did now. Connie had spent years smacking down the ugly memories to fit into a box that kept popping open, and she didn't want that for Anarchy.
Look where that had gotten her, she thought with an inner eyeroll. Thane had wandered along, whistling a merry tune, and kicked her box into a mess of splinters and nails. Spilling all her secrets into the open, coaxing her into sticking a broom into all the corners and disturbing the monsters she'd learned to live with. Asshole.
Okay, sweetheart, you don't want to answer that question, let's shake things up. Connie sipped her juice, shifted her ass carefully on the soft couch cushion, then drove straight in for the kill. “What do you remember most about that night,
Archie?
The color leeched from her face, and she swallowed. “Dinner with Bodie and Braun. I cooked chicken.”
It was the safe answer Connie expected. A good memory, one with friends, which occurred before her world narrowed down to blood and death. “Was Jasper with you?”
Archie nodded slowly. “It was the night Bodie came home from the hospital. I cooked while she was asleep on the couch. Jasper and Braun were busy taking one of the beds apart upstairs so they could bring it down for Bodie. It was very domestic.” A tentative smile brushed her mouth. “Bodie wasn't hungry, and I was just pushing food around, but the Doms cleaned their plates.”
“Of course they did. I've heard great things about your chicken, sweetie. Jasper takes a lot of pride in your skills. What happened after dinner?”
She winced, her lips twisting. “Eight strokes with the sjambok. Master Jasper brought his favorite toy out to play for a punishment. It wasn't so bad. At least, not as bad as I expected it to be, I guess. It leaves a wicked burn and some serious welts.”
“I bet. After that?”
“Well, I think I made him happy with a blowjob. He was full-on sadist that night. Squeezing the welts, fucking my ass for the first time…” Anarchy flushed a deeper shade of red, the color staining the curves of her ears and her cheeks. She squirmed, her body reliving whatever Jasper had done to her. “We were arguing when we left Avalon. I was so fucking angry with him and Atticus for telling me I couldn't go to a mandatory staff meeting the next day. They were being their typical Dom selves, ploughing through my objections so they got what they wanted.”
Connie scratched her cheek, knowing that it hadn't mattered in the end what the Doms had wanted or what they'd planned for. By that point, events were already in motion that would lead to two dead men lying in the road, and Jasper being temporarily paralyzed. “Were you arguing in the truck?”
Talk For Me: Club Avalon Book 3 Page 22
