Oak, Sophie - Siren in the City [Texas Siren 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Sophie Oak

  Her laugh was a hollow sound. “He doesn’t seem to want me the way he used to. I have got to face the fact that maybe Jack is one of those men who just loves the chase. Now that I’ve been caught, someone else will be more interesting to him.”

  “No,” Sam said fervently. “I have known Jack Barnes my entire adult life. He’s never loved anyone the way he loves you, Abby. He would never have married you if he didn’t know he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. Something’s wrong. We need to find out what it is. When he comes back, we need to confront him. We need to sit down as a family and figure out what’s wrong.”

  Abby thought for a long moment. “I don’t think I can wait that long, Sam. I need to know if it’s time for me to walk away.”

  “Don’t even talk like that.” Sam was shocked that she would suggest it. He couldn’t imagine his world without Abby in it. He also couldn’t imagine a world where he would have to choose between them.

  “I’m going to Dallas.” Abby sat up straighter than she had before. “You still have a membership to that club, don’t you?”

  There was a mixture of horror and excitement flowing through Sam’s veins at the thought of what Abby was saying. It was ninety-nine percent horror, though. He could just imagine what Jack would do if they showed up at The Club without his permission. This was a very, very bad idea. “I don’t think going to The Club without Jack is a sound plan, baby. The Club is very hardcore. It’s not a place for normal women.”

  Her big hazel eyes rolled, and she did that cute little snort she used when he was acting like a dumbass. Sam thought she used it an awful lot. “Yes, I’m so normal, Sam. I’m married to two men. I think I can handle The Club.”

  Sam wasn’t so sure. Abby’s only experience with the world of kink was through romance novels and two men who loved her enough to marry her. Sam knew that the men who inhabited The Club would eat up a sweet submissive like Abigail. She would be the softest thing any of them had seen, and he worried that without Jack, she would be unprotected. He doubted he could convincingly play the Dom. Sam was honest enough with himself to admit he was just as submissive as Abby, maybe more so. He tried for logic. “Besides, we don’t know for sure that Jack went to Dallas. He could be anywhere. We could go up there and be all on our own.”

  “Then we’ll just view it as a vacation.” Abby picked up her fork again. She smiled, and it melted something in Sam. She seemed more animated than she had in weeks. “If Jack isn’t there and he’s off doing some sort of ranch work, then we just indulge in a little big-city vacation. Jack’s always telling me how I should enjoy my position as the wife of a very wealthy man.”

  “I think he meant you should do more in the community,” Sam pointed out. “He was talking about taking on charity work. You know you’ve been talking about opening that clinic.”

  “And I firmly intend to do that. If I’m still in a position to do so. In the meantime, I’m going to apply a very liberal meaning to Jack’s words. I’m going to Dallas, and I’m going shopping. Come on, Sam. I know what you want. You’ve always wanted a motorcycle. Let’s get a big, gorgeous Hog and drive to Dallas. We’ll get a room at The Club, preferably a suite, and tear up Neiman Marcus with Jack’s credit cards.”

  Sam’s jaw dropped. “You know Jack won’t let me buy a bike. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been trying to convince him to let me get a motorcycle? He always tells me I’ll kill myself on it, and he won’t allow it. Besides, I don’t want a Harley, baby. I want one of those ninja bikes like Tom Cruise rides in Mission Impossible. It’s called a Ducati.”

  “Well, as far as I can see, he’s not been in the mood to allow or disallow anything lately,” Abby said simply. “You know what they say. When the Dom’s away, the subs will play. What do you say we play a little, Sam?”

  Sam sat back and thought for a moment. Since he’d been fifteen years old, his whole life had revolved around Jack Barnes. He’d never seriously thought about disobeying his friend. Jack always knew what was best, and he always looked out for Sam. In return, Sam did what Jack told him to do.

  But Jack didn’t know what was best now. Jack was floundering, and Sam doubted that an intervention would help. Maybe Abby was right. Maybe the only thing that would get through to Jack was a little shock to his system. Jack believed in a well-run house. In Jack’s mind, a well-run house had one leader—him. What would happen if they questioned that right of his?

  Sam pulled out his cell phone and called information. In the end it was easy. While Jack had all the ambition and power in the relationship, he’d given Sam half the money. Money, Sam rapidly discovered, was power all on its own. Twenty minutes later, he hung up with a smile on his face.

  “They’re going to deliver the Ducati out at the house. Can you imagine? They’re going to bring it to us,” he said with a little thrill.

  Abby’s smile was perfectly Cheshire Cat-like. “Yes, Sam, that’s what happens when you pay forty-thousand dollars in cash to a salesperson who lives off of commission. He’d probably kiss your feet if you asked him to.”

  He could picture himself on the back of that sleek bike. Abby would be behind him with her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. He envisioned himself driving up to The Club with her and tossing the keys to the valet before leading his lady in. He then envisioned Jack taking him apart piece by piece for allowing their wife on a motorcycle.

  “Don’t.” Abby snapped her fingers and pulled him out of it. “It’s going to be fine, Sam. We’ll have fun, just the two of us. If Jack wants his freedom, then we should definitely take ours.”

  “He might kill me.” Sam picked up the burger again. If he was going to die, then it would be on a full stomach. It tasted better this time. Perhaps it was just the idea of doing something rather than sitting back and waiting.

  Abby shrugged. “Then we’ll know he still cares.”

  Sam nodded and decided to worry about Jack’s revenge later. For now, he would concentrate on the positive. He had Abby to himself, and he was taking her on a road trip. Where it would lead them, he couldn’t tell. He knew that with Abby, at least he would enjoy the ride.

  * * * *

  Four hours later, Sam watched as Abby strapped on her big helmet. Sam stood back looking at his unbelievably cool new bike as Abby got prepared for the trip. Her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, and she wore the leather jacket Sam had ordered her to wear. He wasn’t letting her on a bike without her skin being protected. She was dressed in a leather jacket, T-shirt, heavy denim jeans, gloves, and motorcycle boots.

  “I feel like a biker mama.” She grinned as she settled on the back of the bike. She looked hot sitting on the back of his brand new Ducati Superbike R Corse Special Edition. She was so cute, he could just eat her up. He leaned over and kissed her. He slipped her just a bit of tongue before breaking off and sliding in front of her.

  Sam smiled as she leaned against him. Why he hadn’t done this a long time ago, he had no idea. He could feel her pressed against his backside. He might never get in his car again.

  He started the engine, satisfied with the way it purred to life.

  “You ready?”

  Abby wrapped her arms around his waist in response.

  Sam took off, and they left the ranch behind them.

  Chapter Three

  Jack was shown to the austere waiting room outside Julian’s office by a lovely young woman in her twenties. She kept her head down and her eyes averted, and Jack realized she probably spent a lot of time in the club downstairs. His eyes briefly skimmed her body. She was dressed conservatively, as Julian would have anyone working in the business end do. She wore a skirt, silk shirt, and a jacket. The only thing that marked her as anything other than an office drone was her shoes. They were at least a half a foot worth of sex on stilettos. Jack had no idea how she managed to walk in them, but he admitted those shoes were hot. They would look nice on his Abby. On the blonde, he was merely able to appreciate them on an aesthetic level. The
girl was pretty and obviously submissive. She probably never talked back or disobeyed. Julian wouldn’t have it.

  Jack took a seat in one of the antique chairs Julian insisted gave the office an elegant feel. They always made Jack feel like a hulking beast perched on something fragile. He sighed, stretched, then pulled out his phone. There was one message, and he bet it was a doozy. He could almost hear Abigail tearing him a new asshole for leaving that note. He smiled at the thought of her face flushed with anger. Her whole face went red when she got really mad, and her eyes flashed fire. She was really pretty when she was pissed. She could spout some seriously filthy language, too. When she got going, she could really rack up the punishment time. He could give her five every time she cursed. That gorgeous ass of hers would get a lovely shade of pink. Jack frowned and tried to think of something else.

  “Sir?”

  Jack glanced up, a little surprised to see the secretary still there. He’d forgotten about her completely. His mind had been on his wife.

  “Yes?” He found himself slightly annoyed. He didn’t want to be here in the first place. He wanted to deal with Julian’s subs even less. There were always at least two, one male and one female. Julian believed in variety.

  She sank to her knees, placing her slender body in between his legs. Her hands went to his denim clad thighs. Her perfectly manicured nails sank in slightly. “Mr. Lodge told me to see to your every need, Mr. Barnes. Might I offer you the comfort of my mouth? Or would you prefer something else?”

  “I would prefer it if you took your hands off me,” Jack said, and even he could feel the room’s temperature drop by several degrees. He made no move to remove the offending hands. He didn’t need to do anything physical to put a sub in her place. “I didn’t ask you to put your hands on me, nor do I want your attentions. Do we understand each other?”

  Her hands dropped to her thighs, palms up. She looked straight down. “Yes, sir. I was—”

  “Nor did I ask for an explanation.” Jack knew she was only following orders. She didn’t have to spell it out. He also knew that a soft explanation wouldn’t work on her. “Move back, sub. You’re invading my space, and I do not like it.”

  The blonde sub quickly moved back, though she found her position again. She remained still and silent.

  “You are dismissed.” Jack wanted to be left alone. He’d known what he’d be offered the minute he walked into The Club again. He’d really hoped he could get in and out without the drama.

  The blonde’s head came up. Her mouth opened and closed as though she wanted to say something, but couldn’t quite make it happen.

  The door to the office opened. Julian took in the scene in front of him and shook his head. “He said you were dismissed, Sally. Are you so improperly trained that you don’t obey a direct order?”

  “No, Master Julian.” She gracefully got to her feet and was back at her desk in a moment.

  Jack stood up quickly. “And what was that little scene about?” He knew he should give the man who had mentored him some leeway, but he was feeling restless. That anger he held inside him was looking for an outlet, and Julian was a big boy. He could handle it.

  Julian Lodge cocked a single aristocratic eyebrow. Jack could tell a lot about Julian’s mood from that one brow. Julian could say the same thing in exactly the same voice, but it held a different meaning when that dark brow was climbing off his face. “Am I not allowed to be hospitable, Jackson?”

  He was annoyed, Jack thought. Well, good for Julian because Jack was annoyed, too. “I’m a married man. I doubt my wife would appreciate that little scene you tried to play out.”

  Julian shrugged in his Italian suit. Jack knew the club owner had them custom-made. “As I have yet to be introduced to this paragon of virtue, I have no idea what she would find offensive and what would be acceptable to her. Would you care to join me in my office? Our guest will be here soon.”

  It was posed as a question, but Jack heard the inherent command behind it. He nodded shortly and followed his former mentor. The door closed behind him. It had been years since he’d been called into Julian’s office. He remembered the last time he was here. He had been informing Julian of his decision to quit. He was buying his ranch. He was taking Sam with him.

  “Well, of course you are, Jackson,” Julian had said. “A Dom never leaves his favorite sub behind.”

  “Please have a seat.” Julian indicated the dark leather chair in front of his large mahogany desk. Jack sank into the chair as he continued. “I give you permission to punish my slave. She questioned you. She shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Punish her yourself,” Jack replied. “I don’t intend to be here for long. I need to get home. I want to meet with this guy and hightail it out of here. If I get on the road fast enough, I can be home by midnight.”

  Julian sat back in his chair, and his long hands steepled. “You’re in a hurry. Tell me, Jackson, why haven’t you brought your lovely bride to enjoy all the pleasures our little club can provide? Is she not submissive? Do you not share her with Samuel?”

  Jack was taken aback by the question. “Of course I share her with Sam. I wouldn’t have married a woman who couldn’t love both of us.” He and Sam were a package deal and had been since they met.

  “Then I must assume she is either not submissive or you’re ashamed of the time you spent here,” Lodge mused. “Otherwise I can’t understand why you turned down my very generous offer to host a little honeymoon for you.”

  Jack softened slightly. “It was a generous offer. I’m not ashamed. Abigail knows about what I did here. She certainly knows what I owe you, Julian. We haven’t taken a honeymoon. I was sick, and it’s been hard. The recovery…” Jack let the sentence trail off. He really didn’t want to go into this.

  “Well, you were shot in the chest,” Julian pointed out. “You can’t expect to recover quickly from that, old friend. You should rest and recuperate.”

  Jack shook his head. “It was six months ago. I’m fine.”

  Silver eyes assessed him. “I doubt that very much. I’m sure you’re physically fine, but the emotional aspects of such an injury can have much longer-ranging consequences.”

  “Like I said, I’m fine.” Jack didn’t want to talk about it. It was something that was best left completely in the past.

  Julian’s long fingers drummed on the top of his desk. “It’s just as well you decided not to stay. The Platinum Suite was taken just an hour ago. One of my wealthiest clients is bringing his wife in to play.” There was a secretive smile on Julian’s face that gave Jack pause. “Tell me, Jackson, how is Samuel?”

  “He’s fine,” Jack responded automatically. He didn’t like to think about how annoyed Sam was with him. That restless feeling was back. Maybe he should stay the night. He wouldn’t have to face Abby and Sam and their questions if he spent the night here. He wouldn’t go down to The Club. He would just order a bottle of Scotch and try to pass out. He wouldn’t sleep. He never slept alone. He’d spent far too long with another body in bed with him. Even Sam, who he didn’t cuddle, was a comforting presence in bed.

  There was a little trill from the phone. Julian pressed a button. “Yes, Sally?”

  “Your five o’clock appointment is here, sir.” Sally’s voice was completely professional over the phone. She sounded nothing like a woman who had offered her boss’s old friend a blow job just moments before.

  “Send him in.” Julian stood and straightened his silk tie. Jack could see a look of distaste cross his features.

  “Is this Lucas?” Jack asked. He didn’t mention the part about Lucas Cameron being his half-brother. He’d disavowed the Camerons a long time ago. Jack didn’t intend to make this a family reunion.

  Julian shook his head as he smoothed out his tie. “No, this is Matthew Slater. He’s your father’s campaign manager.”

  “Don’t call him that.” Jack didn’t have a father and never would.

  Julian inclined his head in apology. “Of c
ourse. He’s the Senator’s campaign manager. Lucas is due in tonight. You’ll be late getting home, I fear. Mr. Slater is here to attempt to talk some sense into Lucas. I thought he could shed some light on the situation.”

  The door opened, and a slender man in an immaculately cut suit strode into the office. He was in his prime and obviously a professional in every sense of the word.

  He held his hand out to Julian, but Jack could see he didn’t want to touch the club owner. Julian’s handshake was brief. “Mr. Lodge, I apologize for the inconvenience.” His hair was perfectly cut and graying on the sides. His dark eyes found Jack and immediately registered an awed kind of surprise. “My god, you have to be a Cameron. You look just like your father.”

  Jack’s hands fisted. He didn’t like to be reminded that he had a father, much less one who he resembled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. My father died before I was born.” It was all in the paperwork he’d signed when he’d accepted the five million Cameron offered him to keep his mouth shut about his paternity.

  Matthew Slater smiled slowly. “Of course, Mr. Barnes. I understand the situation well. I was the Senator’s aide at the time. I typed up the agreement myself. You’ve been scrupulous about keeping up your end of the bargain.”

  “I got everything I wanted out of it,” Jack allowed.

  “And you’ve made something of yourself.” Slater took the seat beside Jack. “Sadly, it seems the Senator’s most successful offspring is the only one he can’t acknowledge.”

  “He should remember that.” Jack checked his watch and wondered how long this was going to take. He did not want to be acknowledged by anyone, least of all Allen Cameron. “Does someone want to tell me why I got pulled into Senator Cameron’s crap?”

  Julian shook his head. Jack knew he wasn’t happy with his use of words. Julian liked to keep things civilized. Jack refused to act the part. He was a rancher, and he would talk like one. “I believe my associate would like to know a little about Lucas Cameron, Mr. Slater.”