by P Nelson
“Does my sub approve?” Flynn asked bringing one of her feet around for a massage. It would have been much easier to answer with a nod of her head. But she had hung around The Cage too much.
“Yes, Master.” She murmured knowing a verbal response was in order.
His skilled fingers worked the arch of her foot and made their way up her calf. The bathroom was silent for a few minutes, each of them content with their thoughts. Flynn clearing his throat broke the calm.
“You will want to know what happened with Alicia.” His tone unemotional.
“We need not do this right now.” Calla tried to lighten the mood. I’d rather you explained why you have one of your father’s former mistresses working as your housekeeper.”
&
Flynn mouth turned into a grim smile. Her small implication that Ms Emily was not the only one, made him respect Calla even more. She wasn’t afraid to have difficult conversations or shy away from controversy.
“Ms Emily has a great story, but you need to stay informed about what is happening in the world beyond the estate.” Flynn’s fingers moved over her knee and Calla tensed for a second.
“I’m surprised you want to keep me informed at all.” Calla sunk lower into the tub after another minute, enjoying the massage once again.
Flynn let out a long sigh. “I don’t.” It was important to maintain honesty in a BDSM relationship. This had been the problem between him and Melanie from the start. He’d never trusted her with his secrets; he couldn’t unburden himself to her. The decision to keep his secrets was for the best, but it meant their relationship, and with it their marriage, had been doomed from the start. If Flynn wanted things to work with Calla, he had to give her as much honesty and information as his overbearing alpha would allow.
“You are full of surprises.” He stared up into Calla’s warm expression. She knew how hard it was for him to give up control. Along with secrets, it was his stock in trade, a part of his daily life that made him so successful as a CEO.
“Chamberlain called me this morning. The Reliant sailed back to Vancouver Harbour where it was met by the authorities.” He wasn’t willing to share anything more personal at the moment. The fact he had decided to be more open was good enough. “She was whisked away to an undisclosed federal location. She has given nothing up, but he thinks she’s with the Russian mob.” Calla sat up in the bathtub.
“The Russian mob?” She squeaked out. He frowned at her.
“I find it ridiculous you are more afraid of the Russian mob than the Reverend or an assassin who might only have corporate ties. She’s part of some mob somewhere. Either that or she’s an agent working intelligence. People don’t wake up one morning and think, I want to be an assassin.”
“Don’t be an asshole.” Calla tried to pull her leg away from him.
“Twenty smacks. Have you forgotten where you are?” Flynn warned her.
“Just because you’re a Dom doesn’t mean you get to act like an asshole.” Calla wasn’t backing down. This was the fire Flynn loved about her. Far from trying to put out the flames, he wanted them all for himself. Her submission was so much sweeter because he knew there was an intelligent, independent woman in the tub with him. He let go of her leg, only to take hold of her other foot.
“I believe we had this conversation already, and that’s another twenty smacks for calling your master a nasty name.” He watched as she fought with the urge to call him an asshole again. She lay back in the tub and huffed. “Good girl.” He praised. Calla just barely refrained from rolling her eyes.
“Please continue, master.” She used a false sweet submissive voice that was worse than her calling him an asshole.
“Minx.” He pressed his thumbs into the arch of her foot in warning. “Chamberlain doesn’t believe our assassin will give anything up. She’s either going to go to extreme measures to keep her secrets or the Russians will try to barter her back. Either way, unless the feds can connect her to any other murders, she’ll face charges of attempted murder.” He massaged up her calf.
“But she won’t ever see a trial.” Calla guessed. She might not be an expert in the bloody politics of the boardroom or corporate espionage, but Calla wasn’t an idiot. Flynn watched as different expressions marred her lovely features as she was going over all the information he provided and coming to her own conclusions.
“If it comes to a trial, it’s likely whoever her affiliated mob or country is, will clean up their mess.” Flynn agreed.
“And what of Enbridge Enterprises?” Calla asked. “They are the ones who hired her to kill us.” Her voice was bitter with other unsaid accusations. The deaths of the subs weighed on Calla, just as it did him. She hated the fact someone had lured those girls to their deaths within a community she loved and worked hard to make safe.
“Their stock is surging.” Flynn didn’t bother to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “When the markets opened after the press conference yesterday morning. Banroch Industries took a hit.” He inhaled. “It wasn’t as bad as the board and I thought it might be and we’re back up again this morning. Not to where our share price was, but with careful management we’ll get it back to where it was before this shit storm started.”
“I’m sorry.” Calla reached a hand out and shifted in the tub. He looked down to see her delicate fingers against his chest.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Flynn let go of her foot and pressed her hand to his chest.
“No one else will say it.” Calla shifted forward enough for her legs to wrap around his waist. Her core coming into contact with his hardening cock. “So, I’m sorry that the company you have maintained and guided for your entire adult life and made successful is under siege. I’m sorry that you’re watching all your hard work be dismantled.” She whispered at the end. Flynn stared into her dark gaze and for once in his life, came undone. The woman in front of him had just stripped all the bullshit out of his life with her simple declarations. There wasn’t anything to say except...
“Thank you.” His voice was rough as he pulled her into his arms. Her head resting against his shoulder was the most natural thing in the world.
Chapter Eight
Calla had learned a few things in the week she had been staying at Flynn’s estate. First, it was best to leave Flynn alone when he was instructing his brother over the phone. Like right now. Except it didn’t sound much like instructing, more like ranting and raving. Banroch Industries stock had taken a dive late yesterday afternoon on a rumour in the market. And Flynn wanted to identify the rumour.
The other thing Calla had learned while at the estate was Ms Emily had not been kidding. She was the person to go to if she needed anything. The problem was that she ruled the estate with an iron fist so tight, Calla might choke to death if she had to live here all the time. Not that she had much sympathy for the devil. Or Melanie. But she didn’t relish the idea of spending much time here either under the domineering Ms Emily.
Flynn occupied most of her time. They spent much of their day in the dungeon playing. It was a great way to reconnect and there were moments for Calla when she couldn’t be closer to anyone else in the universe. Then his brother would call and ruin the mood. She didn’t begrudge Flynn the fact he had a business to run, more that Arthur was incapable of making decisions at all. The whole mess was taking a toll on Flynn and therefore worry had set in for Calla over his mental state.
It was after one such phone call, Calla had decided to wander around the grounds, taking advantage of the break in the rainy weather. The next time she had gone down to the mudroom at the back of the house, a new pair of baby blue Hunter gum boots and a weatherproof jacket awaited her with a note from Flynn.
Summer had fast approached its end this far north of Vancouver. The rainy weather would continue now until spring, one of the gardeners had informed her. He had worked here for some years. Something about the gardens rugged landscape and the smell of the ocean appealed to Calla in a way nothing else had.
Not that she didn’t miss Vancouver. Autumn was a great time of the year. Wet and getting colder, but the leaves were turning and people checked the local mountains for even a sprinkling of snow.
She kicked a rock down the sandy beach at the rear of the island, right where Ms Emily indicated. It skittered across the sand before coming to a halt. Calla turned and thought about going back to the house. It was getting misty. A sure sign of heavier rain to come.
“I thought I might find you down here.” Flynn called from the end of the footpath leading down to the water. She waved back and hurried her pace.
“Flynn. I’m glad you joined me for once.” She did her best to stand on her tiptoes to kiss him on the mouth. The Hunters might keep her toes warm, but they did nothing for her height.
“Spending time outdoors is what I need.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes and Calla knew whatever Arthur’s news had been, put Flynn on edge. She wanted to ask him, but instead threaded her arm through his and urged him to walk down the beach with her.
“Tell me about Ms Emily.” She tried for distraction, Calla had tried on several other occasions to get the story out of him, but an interruption had followed. Now the only thing to interrupt them was the increasing wind and dip and slide of the seagulls.
“Still on about her?” Flynn tilted his head to read her expression. “She can be a bit much. I suspect this is why my father broke it off with her all those years ago. He always liked his subs very subbie.” He thought for a minute and Calla remained silent. “It’s explains a lot about my childhood and his relationship with my mother.”
Calla knew the bare minimum of Trim Banroch’s marriage to Flynn’s father, Arthur Sr. Calla had seen the headlines on the tabloids in the check out line at the grocery stores as a kid. But Trim had always appeared as a frail and diminutive woman. Now having spent a great deal of time with Flynn, she wondered how a woman everyone perceived as weak produced this strong, steadfast man.
“Ms Emily was one of a long line of nannies brought in from the old country to care for Arthur and me.” Flynn walked and Calla leaned into him, seeking comfort more from the story than the weather. “I do not understand if she had been hired because she had already caught my father’s eye, or whether that happened afterwards. It’s hard to say.” He stopped speaking for a moment. “What I know is that when there was a woman who peaked his interest in the nursery, Arthur and I found ourselves as the recipients of more of his precious attention.” Bitterness infused his last words.
“It must have been hard when you realised that.” Calla’s psychologist cap in place. She waited for Flynn to unburden himself and wondered if he had ever spoken of this aloud to anyone.
“I don’t think Arthur ever put two and two together.” Flynn’s tone grim. “He was always just happy father had deigned to spend time with us. But perhaps it’s the job of the older brother to notice things and protect their younger siblings.” His voice trailed away.
“You are not responsible for Arthur’s current problems.” Calla was firm. Flynn had already taken on the burden of worry faced by Banroch employees as they watched the shares in their company slide; she would not let him manage Arthur too. “He made his choices.”
“Yes, he chose, but I let him become a mark for Melanie. If I had spent more time guiding him, instead of setting him aside and patting his head, this whole shit show might never have happened.” Flynn pulled away from Calla and ran a hand through his hair.
“You could also say if you had never met Melanie this would never have happened.” Calla pointed out. “Or if Bondie had grown a conscious, the Reverend would have been exposed before any of those girls died. Then everything we did to try and prevent the tragedies would have worked.
“Are you quoting bad sci-fi movie plotlines?” Flynn halted and stared at her.
“Maybe.” Calla ran through the facts for a second. “I’m just saying things are inevitable. If Enbridge hadn’t tried to force Banroch into buying their stupid pipeline, then it would have been owned by someone else trying to unload it.”
“The Canadian Government are the ones trying to pass on the poison chalice now.” Flynn ground out.
“What do you mean?” Calla question quick, concern coloured her tone.
“I thought you wanted to distract me with Ms Emily’s story.” Flynn raised a brow at her.
“All roads lead back to Enbridge I guess.” Calla shrugged. It wasn’t a normal gesture for her. These were not normal circumstances. And she hated the fact they had this huge cloud hanging over them.
“Enbridge shares shot up again last night, just as ours fell. There is a rumour in the market.” Flynn shot his hand through his hair again, frustration caused his movements to be jerky. Calla had never seen him so agitated. “Arthur claims he has heard nothing. The board is out wining and dining all their contacts.”
“But they can’t find the rumour.” Calla guessed.
“Which means it came from Enbridge. And they are being very judicious about who they are selling it to.” Flynn confirmed.
“Do you think it is the pipeline?” Calla did her best to get Flynn moving again. The rain fell a little harder and the last thing they needed were colds.
“But whatever the rumour, it looks like we must wait until it becomes public knowledge.” Flynn looked like a caged predator as he stalked down the beach towards the path leading back up the cliff to the house. Calla followed him in silence. She well knew of what the afternoon would hold. A light lunch followed by an afternoon and evening tied up in the dungeon. Not that she minded too much. The raw fucking had turned into more detailed BDSM scenes, sparing her pussy. She understood Flynn was using his play as a coping mechanism, but she worried about how long it would last.
They crested the hill and the sound of a prop engine floated by on the wind. Calla halted next to Flynn, and they both squinted up into the stormy sky until a floatplane emerged from the clouds. Her stomach dropped at the implications.
“It appears our peaceful existence is about to come to a crashing end.” A crease marred Flynn’s brow. Calla held her hand up to ward off the rain so she could see better into the distance.
“Who is it?" Calla asked. Flynn took her elbow in his hand and motioned her forward; the rain was turning into a downpour.
“Chamberlain. If I were to guess.” Flynn stomped along next to her. “Few others would bother coming all the way out here with bad news. They’d rather leave a message on my phone. He’s the only person of my acquaintance who enjoys delivering catastrophic life ending information in person.”
“He’s not that bad.” Calla was running to keep up.
“Looks like we’ll have an extra for lunch and for our play this afternoon.” Flynn’s comment casual.
“Whoa that is not a part of our contract.” Calla reminded him. She had agreed to submit and scene with him. Only him. Not that she didn’t wonder what all the fuss was about being in a ménage. Delaney, Martin and Linkin made it look like fun. For the boys anyway.
“There is a clause about voyeurism, however.” Flynn reminded her. “It’s time we step up Detective Chamberlain’s training don’t you?”
“I’m not training him. So I don’t get it.” Calla didn’t have a problem with exhibitionism; it was just that their time in the dungeon had been so intimate. Calla wasn’t sure if she wanted another player to ruin it.
“Think about it. We can discuss terms and if you like none of them, say your safe word and we can plan something different.” Flynn reasonable tone made her look up at him. “I appreciate ménage is a soft limit for you. It’s something I’d like to explore with you.” Flynn paused. “In time. I want to show off my sexy little sub.”
“I’ll think about it.” Calla promised. A part of her still needed convincing about Chamberlain. She saw his potential as a Dom, but she wondered if he possessed the commitment needed to reach his full potential. He seemed out of place, or more accurately, still searching for whom he was meant to become.
/> “Come on. Let’s greet our unwelcome guest. Ms Emily will have spotted the floatplane and already put another set of cutlery out for lunch.” Flynn wrapped his arm around her. Calla leaned into him and sighed. She would never understand Ms Emily. Her name spoke aloud only brought distractions.
They walked down to the main dock together. The large boathouses over the water contained another floatplane and various smaller boats used by the island’s inhabitants. They walked down the gangplank just as the plane’s pontoons bumped against the dock. The clouds overhead chose that exact moment to open. Calla blew hair out her mouth and wondered if the day would get much worse.
&
Flynn took one look at Chamberlain’s grim-faced expression and wondered if his day could get any worse. Arthur’s panic attack over the phone this morning had confirmed the board of director’s opinion about his leadership. He wasn’t ready to run such a huge, diverse company. Whether that might change in the years to come was another matter. The board was calling for his return. Banroch Industries stock suffered another blow this morning at the opening bell and now Chamberlain had flown here instead of taking the yacht. All signs pointed to a catastrophic end.
The three of them greeted one another like old friends down at the wharf before the rain forced them inside. Now lunch finished, Flynn’s patience was at an end. He sat back in his chair at the appointed lunch table facing the front lawns of the house and waited.
“If I’d known the food was so good I’d of come much sooner.” Chamberlin flashed Ms Emily a smile that melted the panties off most women. Ms Emily only hesitated before she took up his empty plate.
“You better watch that silver tongue of yours, Detective Chamberlain.” Her tone tart enough to lift the corner of Flynn’s mouth into a half smile of approval. The detective couldn’t charm everyone, it appeared.
“And put it to better use.” Flynn stared the other man down while speaking to Calla. “Why don’t you go upstairs and rest, Calla? You’re going to have a long night.”
