In a hurry, I ask, “Where is Steph?”
He shakes his head. “I have not seen Mistress Serene, Sir,” Derek says, pointing to her car. “But clearly, she is here somewhere.”
Taking a deep breath, I bark, “I’m leaving my truck here. I will be right back.”
The hostess with a mess of blonde, unkempt hair and black plastic frame glasses swipes my Juliet ID card as she scans over my attire and berates, “You realize this is a formal affair?”
“Do you realize I am Sal-fucking-Raniero?” I challenge in asshole mode.
“No, I am new here,” she meekly replies, “I apologize.”
I squint at her name tag and whisper, “Lula? As in Francis Gregory’s daughter?”
“Yes, Sir,” she says with a hint of a smile. “I am Tank’s daughter.”
At least this time she got the Sir right.
“Derek, come man the entrance. I need Lula,” I determine, wrapping my hand gently under her elbow.
He nods. “Of course, Master Raniero.”
A few minutes later, I am in the men’s bathroom at the gymnasium. I shove Daisicle into Lula’s arms, and she runs in her four-inch heels to fetch my suit from the wardrobe closet by the courtyard. She returns soon as I open the curtain and spot the plastic covered suit marked Raniero.
“If you need any help…”
“I do actually,” I shout from the shower only to find Lula, standing behind me and staring as her eyes drift over my slicked up, soapy body.
“I need a towel,” I say, cutting off the water as she immediately hands me one. “How long have you been here?”
“My contract in California was not renewed. Dad suggested I come out here for a bit,” she says, drying my body off with another towel as I step out of the stall. “Anna gave me a job at Scarlet House, working as her assistant, but they needed all hands-on deck today.”
“You’re military?”
“Yes, Sir,” she says, tossing back her blonde hair. Six years in the army.”
“Impressive, thank you for the service,” I acknowledge, grabbing my toothbrush and razor out of my duffel. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight. My twin brother is Gunner.”
“Ya, I know him,” I say, shaving the mess off my cheeks and eying the all-American dollop beside me. Without her atrocious glasses, she is fucking model beautiful. “But I’ve never met you.”
“I served straight out of high school and did my initial sub training at a private residence.”
“Who with?” I ask, rinsing my face.
“Lily Miller-Armstrong,” she articulates as I cringe, and she takes note. The woman has had it in for my ass since I joined the board. “She said you might twitch a little.”
“I’ve never met the bitch and I don’t want to,” I babble, brushing my teeth.
“You might not say that when you see her, Sir,” she says as I dry my face and catch site of her periwinkle, almost violet eyes.
“She’s a cunt.”
“Lily is one of the best private female Dom’s. Her credentials cannot be underestimated, and her resume reads like a damn dream,” Lula cautions, suggesting that there may be more to the nagging petulance of Lily Miller-Armstrong than I originally believed.
“Really?” I boast, rubbing aftershave all over my neck and chest. “What does she do?”
“She is a judge…”
“Oh, so the Honorable LMA…”
Lula laughs. “You could just call her Mistress Lily.”
“I ain’t calling her nothing,” I grumble as I drop the towel. Her eyes flick down, blatantly scanning over my dick. Typically, I would get the girl on her knees, starting the rainbow party of the day, but I only have one girl on my mind. And her lips are the only ones going on my cock tonight.
Grabbing my pants, I hear her giggle. “You forgot your undies?”
“I am permanently commando.”
“Submissive,” she mutters as I chuckle once.
“Hardly,” I banter, grabbing a clean white tank out of the bag. I wink and say, “Just prepared.”
“I don’t know who is on your mind today, but if she ever says no…” Lula smirks and flirts, “Call me.”
“You will be the first,” I agree as I point at her and grin. “I assure you of that. What did you do in the army?”
“Recon behind a desk. If I could have been on the ground, I would have. My scores were blazing high,” she admits almost ashamed, “But I loved the work.”
“You act like your dad,” I mention casually.
“Survivalist all the way?” she laughs. “I am.”
“Tank is one of my inner circle,” I confess willingly. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for that man.”
“Maybe I can be one of your inner circle,” she suggests, carefully zipping my pants up. Her hand lays against my semi-hard cock as those eyes peer straight through me. She knows I am tempted as I quickly harden. “I know you are going after a girl today, but one day…”
“If everything goes right, there won’t be a one day,” I say, sounding way too possible. I grab my vest, guns, extra ammo, and a couple knives as she stares at me.
“Dad said you were involved in a secret society,” she says, sitting on the bathroom counter. “I wasn’t sure I believed him.”
Checking the clip on the gun, I snap it closed and gaze at her with a smile portrayed as a frown. “That’s why I wanted you to come help me. I figured you could handle it. Look, we have an agent—Jaid Chambers—who is a student here. If she gets in trouble,” I remark, flashing her a look of please.
“You got it, Bossman,” Lula says, mocking a salute. “What does she look like?”
“Very young. Cute. She may be hanging around a big red-headed oaf—Dale Archer, my bodyguard.”
“Jaid sounds like just my kinda party,” she cites off with a snarl. “Since I can’t convince you to let me suck the snake, maybe she’ll lick mine.”
“She might,” I elude. “Just be careful, she venomous.”
“Gotcha,” she says with a nod. “Even better.”
“Jesus, you are as bad as your dad…”
“Do you really think everything is going to go as planned?” Her laughter catches the air and echoes throughout the room. “How often do our lives exist without snafu’s?”
Lula buttons my shirt and helps me with my jacket as she straightens and tightens everything up. Daisicle runs around the bathroom, her toes clicking on the cement floor. Out of my pack, I grab my wallet and keys before flicking five hundred to her between my fingers.
“I cannot take your money, Sir.”
“You will,” I assert, grinning. “Because you are going to get my stinking clothes and bag back to the truck, dog sit Dais all day, and bring my fucking truck when I text.”
“Of course, Master Raniero,” Lula praises as I walk towards the exit.
“Hey, Lula!” I shout, tossing the keys. “Nice catch!”
“I played softball in high school,” she says, smirking, “I can catch.”
I bet you can.
SAL
As I make my way through the crowd, I see few faces I recognize. There is only one I am really looking for and she is nowhere to be found, but neither are Jack nor Serene.
Across the garden, I spot Anna. Excusing my way through the crowd, I rush to her side. She is talking on the phone, seemingly quite irritated.
“Stay,” she mouths and holds up a singular finger. “I don’t care, just get it working!” she snaps, clicking the button. “The scanners aren’t working at the stage.”
“What stage?” I ask, taking two glasses of pink champagne from a nearby waiter.
I hand one to Anna, and she takes a sip before saying, “There is a private auction tonight. I thought you knew.”
“Oh?” I curiously say, slamming back the bubbles. Keeping my secrets, I lie, “I had no clue.”
“Terry and Shelby wanted to do something special. ‘Memorable’ they said,” Anna impart
s with a sigh. “So, we set a stage up off in the woods and only members know about it, but the damn card readers aren’t working. And the girl out there knows nothing one of course.”
Reluctantly, I agree to save the evening. At one point, I used to run this damn show and I fucking knew everyone. Kissing Anna on the cheek, I sprint through the crowd before Dom Gennaro grabs my arm.
“Boston, I want you to meet someone,” he says with a mischievous smirk.
If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t have bothered to stop, but my history with this man is one of the main reasons I am still standing, breathing, and now, thanks to Dale’s offer—a rich motherfucking bastard.
“This is Lydia Kettles,” he offers with a smile as I try to avoid the bile churning in my gut.
“Ms. Kettles, I have heard so much about you,” I feign with a waxed smile worth a cool bil and kiss the top of her hand.
“Boston? Raniero?” she says with a British accent that swoops my senses away. She adds up the familial math quick, “…Cesar’s son?”
“The one and only,” I affirm because denying it now is pointless.
Lydia is an attractive woman, and I see where Iris inherits the delicious porcelain skin and enchanting sapphire eyes. But she must predominantly take after her father.
Her eyes incite as her lips invite, “You should come see me sometime in Chicago.”
I have been in Chicago many times, Ma’am.
“I should, I should,” I follow course with a nod.
Leaning in close—too close—she whispers, “I have some information on your father if you are ever in need of dirt.”
“Oh,” I say, nodding. “And your fee?”
“I will give it to you for free,” she mutters, laying her hand on my side and feeling the Glock. “But you have to promise to keep my only daughter safe, Phoenix.”
“Consider it done, Ma’am,” I vow.
“Don’t get her trapped in the middle of your war.”
“I would never do anything to harm our girl.”
With a kiss to each of my cheeks, she smiles, holding onto my shoulders. “You are splendidly divine.” She moves closer one final time and imposes, “I cannot wait to call you my son-in-law.”
“Thank you, Ms. Kettles,” I snarl with a hint of a blush as I depart to the storage garage, hopping on the four-wheeler. I smoke two cigarettes and swallow two single-sized whiskeys.
Fuck.
The thing about these shindigs—weddings and crap at Juliet is that it is always more than just our members. We end up with people like fucking Lydia Kettles showing up. The next thing you know she will want a full membership for services. So, in actuality these aren’t really weddings but recruitment events for the academy. I don’t mind, but hell.
If no one else gets in my way between now and the Iris auction, I will be amazed. I check my phone and notice a message from the Gray Market. Someone is offering a hit on Mack. I really don’t have time for the peon bullshit today. It’s probably some crack pipe loser, thinking I’ll prepay. Mack has too much worth to off, and I have already offered him a job out my farm. Jack wants him trained further, and I am the lucky schmuck that landed that job. Go me.
I ignore the message and fire up the four-wheeler. There are only a handful of places on the property that have been cleared enough to host such an event and Anna didn’t mention which one, so I go to all five.
As luck would have it, the auction is at the last one. I don’t mind, it feels good to be back on turf I know like the back of my hand. I park the four-wheeler and walk up to the lighted archway where a very tall girl stands.
“… Why are you out?” I mumble to her ear.
“Some man came down to the dungeon and said let’s go,” Ainsley whispers discreet as she kisses my cheek. “Have you come to save me?”
“Ya,” I say, seething with rage and trying to not blow a gasket. “Let me see if I can get this thing working. You look beautiful,” I quip, fidgeting with the machine and playing along, pretending to not know Ainsley. “You new to Juliet?”
“Actually, I graduated from Highlandale Hawthorne,” she says as we fake our way through a casual conversation. “I am a friend of Iris.”
“Oh,” I stutter slightly as she drops hints like a seasoned pro. “Is she here?”
“Mhmm,” she mumbles, “She is in solitary.”
“I see… do you have a guest list?” I continue, fussing with the machine. “Is Ms. Jaid Chambers here?”
“Yes, she has a bird’s eye view,” Ainsley divulges, handing the list to me and pointing up to the scaffolding set behind the stage. No one from the audience can see her behind the flowing curtains. I glance up as Jaid blows me a kiss with a smile. “I really do apologize for my confusion.”
Flipping through the guest list, I don’t see Iris’ name anywhere. “Tell me Ainsley, do you have a participant list?”
She hands the large manila envelope over. Carefully, I pull out the thick stack of coded papers.
Fuck.
“Do you happen to have the code sheet?” I request with a smirk, before murmuring, “And do you happen to have your get up?”
She giggles, “You mean my harness and boots? Yes, I am supposed to be up on the auction block tonight.”
Surprised, I ask, “…You are? Funny I could have sworn you were purchased.”
“I am,” she assures, flashing her eyes to mine in a desperate, discreet plea for saving. “I’ve never done this. I don’t know these people, and I need your help.”
“Go get dressed. I got this.”
She walks a short distance to the white tent set up at the back of the stage and disappears. As I wait, I shuffle through the drawers in the large black lacquered podium searching for the sub codes.
Finding nothing, I am just about to give up when Ainsley comes out from behind the tent. My jaw drops. I have seen plenty of pony girls, but here on the grounds of Juliet, she looks exceptional. Her hair is pulled back into a long mane, and the fullness of her red lips lure in the head gear as a splendid, lush tail hangs from her ass.
“Wow…” I exclaim.
She undoes her mouth bit. “Do I look okay?”
“You look fucking crazy beautiful,” I rave, arching a brow. “Is the tail…”
“No, this one isn’t in my ass. I have one though. I believe that is an intimate thing to be shared between Handler and pony only,” she says with a wink as I smirk. “Others may disagree.”
With guests frolicking in, I casually ask, “Have you seen a Handler?”
“No,” she imparts. “No Handler. No Doms. No one.”
My face contorts as the fury rises in my gut and I reiterate, “I am texting Manon to send your paperwork. Don’t worry. You aren’t being sold.”
“I am actually a very devout pony.”
“I know you are, Ainsley,” I reassure, squeezing her hand. “You are going to do awesome. You can go relax if you would like, I mean if you need to.”
Blinking with a desperation, Ainsley whispers, “May I stay with you?”
God damn could she.
My mind races with all of the moves I can make, but I have to think strategically as a golf cart approaches.
“Anna told me you were here!” Serene squeals, running up to hug me. Through a pristine smile, she says, “Why the fuck are you not in Taos?”
Serene rubs Ainsley cautiously like she is a pony. “Easy girl,” she coos, petting her mane and tail. Rubbing her haunch, she asks, “Are you cart trained?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
My eyes widen even more as I note Ainsley and I hold the same stance with our body language, so very different but so much the same.
“My slave here seems rather taken with you. What are you asking for?”
“She isn’t going up for auction because she is already purchased,” I scoff, checking my email for the documentation.
“I see…” Serene puckers her lips with a famished look in her eyes. “What did you get her for, Sally?
”
“One point nine, four years at Juliet, and placement assistance by me,” I answer, lighting up a smoke.
“I am intact, Ma’am.”
“You’re a virgin!” Serene marvels, almost spewing her wine.
“No contact at all in training?”
“No, Ma’am. However, I can present, but it was all in practice. There was no penetration, anywhere.”
“Thank you,” Serene emphasizes as her eyes spark. Fresh untouched subs are a rare resource to be appreciated like fine wine.
Walking with Serene to her seat on the front row, I gloat in my purchase. “She’s worth a fucking fortune, Sally. Never even given a blow. You did good.”
“I try, Ma’am.”
“Are you prepared for how much work they are?”
“It’s worse than that mutt you are bidding on tonight,” she taunts, grinning. “I’ll make you a deal. You leave that skank Jenne Pearson alone—the one everyone has had their finger in—and I’ll try and get you something to bat around from the auction block. But as soon as the auction is over, you need to skedaddle out of here.”
“I want Iris,” I growl, cracking my knuckles. “It’s the only reason I am here.”
“Then I will get her for you,” Serene assures, handing me an offer I don’t deserve. “And you can go.”
“I am not going until she is with me,” I warn with a demanding fortitude. I might not have listened by coming home, but part of my issue is I am bored half the time in Taos.
Hopping up, I stand by Ainsley for the next hour, checking in members and welcoming the bride and groom. Spending time with my pony, I realize she is like a fine bottle of wine that I am not ready to open.
“I heard that fucking truck of yours!” Terry chides, punching my shoulder as we embrace in a hug.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, tonight we have a special auction,” Devereux elaborates. “Our lovely newlyweds welcome you all and encourage you to bid high.”
The auction begins as one by one the participants walk across the stage and spin. A silent anxiety rolls through me as I wait for Iris.
Salt Kissed Love (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 1) Page 47
