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

Page 6

by Sophie Oak


  There was a short knock on the door. Julian opened it. The young man who pushed in the elegant cart seemed surprised to see his boss.

  “Mr. Lodge,” the young man said. Sam noted how he deferentially avoided the older man’s eyes. Sam thought that if he hadn’t been working, the young man would have immediately taken the same position Abigail had just moments before, on his knees, palms up. He was a sub, no doubt about it. However, the submissive young man did look at Sam and Abby. Sam could see him making some very wrong assumptions.

  “They are merely my friends, Jeremy,” Julian stated firmly. “Don’t think I don’t know how the gossip mill works. I won’t have you upsetting my subs by telling them I have a couple stashed in the Platinum Suite. And don’t attempt any of your petty revenges on them. You’re almost on your third strike.”

  The slender young man lowered his head, but Sam noticed how his lips had thinned in anger. “Of course, sir.”

  Julian walked over to the waiter. Sam could clearly see the tension. “Eyes up, Jeremy.”

  Jeremy brought his eyes up quickly. “Yes, sir?”

  Julian smiled slightly, and his hand moved over the sub’s chin. Jeremy practically vibrated from his master’s caress. “They really are just friends, pet. Don’t get yourself kicked out of your home because you are needlessly jealous. I don’t like jealousy. I find it distasteful. And I don’t want you upsetting Sally, either. She’s been turned down once today.”

  Jeremy’s eyes went wide as though he couldn’t quite believe it.

  “Yes,” Julian acknowledged. “Mr. Barnes was not pleased with Sally’s offer of comfort. He rather forcefully turned her down.”

  “And he lives to see another day,” Abby said fiercely. Sam suppressed a grin. Her face was flush. He could have warned her that Jack would be offered a whole lot of sex the minute he entered The Club. He’d chosen not to for two reasons. The first was that he didn’t want to upset her. The second was his unwavering belief that they could offer all day long, but Jack would just keep turning it down.

  “You’re a little spitfire, aren’t you?” Julian glanced her way, his eyes lit with amusement.

  “Continue offering my husband cheap sex, and you’ll find out, Mr. Lodge,” Abby said quietly.

  Julian turned a very serious face toward her. He did not look pleased with her sauciness. “Again, not my sub to discipline, but I would expect something serious from your husband.”

  “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

  “As for you,” Julian turned back to the man Sam was almost certain was his male sub, “remember what I said, pet. If you pull some of the stunts you have in the past, the outcome might be different. Samuel isn’t known for turning the other cheek. He won’t give you any warning, either. Cross Samuel, and his revenge might be painful.”

  Sam smiled. “He’s referring to the fact that I like to jump people who piss me off. I tend to do it in dark alleys. See, Jack would do a whole bunch of stuff to ruin you financially and make your life a living hell. Me? I’ll just beat the shit out of you.”

  “Sam!” Abby sounded slightly shocked. Her voice got low. “The owner of Delbert’s got sent to the hospital a couple of months ago. They said he got mugged. Was that you?”

  The owner of Delbert’s was an asshole who had treated Abby very poorly. He’d humiliated her in front of half the town. Jack was making sure he went out of business. Sam wasn’t satisfied unless there was some severe physical pain involved. He shrugged at his wife. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, darlin’. The police cleared me on that. I was drinking at The Barn that night, all night long.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and he was pretty sure they weren’t through, but Julian was laughing.

  “You see, Jeremy, you should sheathe your claws around that one.” Julian turned his attention to the plates covered with shiny domes. He elegantly uncovered the first. “Ah, yes, our chef is very good with steaks. The mashed potatoes have a lovely truffle oil in them. The beef is Barnes-Fleetwood, of course.”

  “Then I know it’s good.” Sam felt more confident than he had all night. He wasn’t a bartender anymore. He was a rancher, and he believed in his product.

  Julian uncovered the second meal. He frowned. “Are you a vegetarian, Mrs. Barnes? I can have the chef come up with something more interesting than a salad.”

  “It’s fine.” Abby sounded more than a little defensive. “It’s exactly what I ordered.”

  Julian considered her and, for a moment, looked like he would argue further. He sighed and turned his attention to Sam. “If it gets worse, I’m here to help you, Samuel. I know I was Jackson’s mentor, but I was always fond of you. If you and Mrs. Barnes need anything, please let me know. And Samuel, if Jackson calls for public punishment, I will be forced to allow it.”

  “Then I’ll take it,” Sam said firmly.

  “Yes, I believe you would.” Julian walked out. He snapped his fingers lightly, and Jeremy followed. Sam didn’t miss the sub’s glance back at him. He knew that despite Julian’s warning, he should keep an eye on that one. He might be trouble.

  “I don’t know if I like that man.” Abby watched the door and then took her seat, sitting down in front of her salad.

  “You might not like him, baby, but he means what he says.” Sam sat down across from her. He dug into his perfectly cooked steak. The Club would be open soon. He would need his strength.

  * * * *

  He waited until it rang three times, then Matthew Slater pressed the receive call button on his phone. Slater glanced around his suite before he answered. He would never refuse the Senator’s call, but it looked good to make him wait just a few minutes. He needed to come off as a very busy person. He had found that being too available just led to getting more and more work sent his way.

  “Yes, Senator?”

  “Matthew, have you seen my son yet?” The Senator’s voice was deep and calm. He rarely yelled and almost never cussed. He would consider it beneath him. He had been raised in a wealthy family, and such language was too common. Still, he knew how to put a hint of malice in almost everything that came out of his mouth.

  “No, sir, his flight should be landing soon.” He didn’t mention that Julian would be sending someone to the airport for him.

  “I wasn’t talking about Lucas.”

  Slater attempted to hide his shock. He kept his voice perfectly smooth. “If you are speaking of Jack Barnes, sir, then yes. I had a meeting with him in Lodge’s office a couple of hours ago. He seemed very concerned.”

  Now Slater was very concerned, as well. He had thought the Senator’s threat to expose his prior affair was just that, a toothless threat to force Lucas to back down. He couldn’t seriously be considering claiming the rancher as his son. He had enough trouble with Lucas and his headline-making scandals. The last thing the campaign needed was a long-lost love child emerging, no matter how rich and powerful said love child had become.

  “Has Jack agreed to meet with Lucas?”

  It was time to point out a few truths about his oldest son. Perhaps the senator had blinders on when it came to Jack Barnes. He would try to open his boss’s eyes a bit, but with well-trained subtlety. Arguing with Cameron was a bad idea. “He was reluctant. I think if he thought he could get away with it, he would simply beat Lucas into submission.” The man was a Neanderthal and, if the rumors were true, something of a pervert. Slater had seen the report from the very exclusive, very private detective the senator had hired to keep track of his oldest offspring. Jackson Barnes had married roughly six months before, but it was an open secret in the town they lived in that he ‘shared’ his wife with his business partner. Slater shuddered to think about that tidbit hitting the papers. Perhaps the rancher had more in common with his youngest brother than he would like to admit.

  There was a chuckle on the Washington end of the line. “I actually envy you, Matthew. There is a large part of me that wishes I could see this first meeting between brothers.
I actually think meeting Jack could be good for Lucas. If Jack wants to beat Lucas into submission, well, give it a shot. Rehab certainly hasn’t worked. I’m fed up with Lucas’s childish demands. He’s had everything handed to him, and it’s made him a brat.”

  “Sir, I think I should tell you that I don’t believe Lodge or Barnes will give in to this little blackmail scheme of Lucas’s.” The senator was going to have to start taking this problem seriously. This was no longer a family matter. This had long-ranging consequences.

  It had become apparent to him during his meeting with the club owner and the rancher that neither man was the type to pay up and hope that was the end of it. It wouldn’t be, of course. There was no end to a good blackmail scheme. Slater would know. He’d run several in his time as a Washington insider. The key was to know your victim. He would never have selected Barnes and Lodge.

  “Then maybe it’s time we came clean.” The senator didn’t sound entirely decisive. “I spoke to my wife last night. She’s upset, but she knows it could be worse. This Barnes fellow is very successful. Considering the way sports stars and actors have been behaving lately, I’m practically a saint. It was just the one affair, and the boy is perfectly fine.”

  After years and years of abuse in foster care, Slater thought. Jack Barnes might be ‘fine’ now, but he didn’t think those years in foster care would look good in the press. Cameron had abandoned his firstborn son.

  “Perhaps we could even spin the story to look like a father-son reunion. They don’t need to know anything else,” Allen Cameron mused. “I’ve been doing poorly with the middle class in the polls. Jack is a rancher. He’s a man of the people. We could view that little five million I gave him as a loan that I chose not to call in. He’s my son. I owed it to him, and look what he did with it. That cattle ranch of his, it’s organic, right?”

  “Yes, I believe it is. It’s organic and free-range.”

  “That will go over so well with the Greenies,” the senator said with a chortle. “This could be a huge positive for us. It would be a perfect counterpoint to all the bad publicity Lucas brings in.”

  Yes, the ménage his oldest son was involved in would more than likely take the spotlight off the youngest son. This was rapidly turning into his worst nightmare. How could he spin this?

  “All right, I’m leaving this in your capable hands, Matthew.” The senator sounded as though he was shoving off a laundry basket on him rather than a powder keg. “Keep me updated, but do what you have to. Keep Lucas’s mouth shut until I’m ready to go public about Jack.”

  There was a click, and Slater knew he’d been handed his orders. He’d been dismissed. The senator would move on to other more pressing matters, like his barely legal mistress. Slater knew it was chance that Jack was the only illegitimate child the senator had produced.

  It took everything Slater had not to throw the cell phone across the room. He knew it wouldn’t do him any good, but the impulse was still there. He wanted to destroy something the way Lucas Cameron and Jack Barnes were about to destroy his career.

  Slater carefully set the phone down and walked to the mini-bar. He opened the first bottle he found, not caring what it was, so long as it burned a path from his mouth to his nauseous belly.

  He was fifty-two years old in a world that was rapidly being given over to the thirty-somethings. The new campaign managers ran on personality and an ability to spin anything. Everyone wanted a young, fresh face for the media. No one cared that he knew more about Washington politics and winning elections than all of the pretty faces put together. He didn’t look good on Hi-Definition television, and that was what counted.

  He had one shot left, and that was making sure that Senator Allen Cameron became President Cameron. If he could pull off that little miracle, everything would open to him. He would have his pick of assignments in the White House, or he could become a private consultant to any number of organizations. He could write a book. He could pay off his bookies.

  If he could just get through the upcoming campaign, everything would be fine, he just knew it. Once Cameron was in Washington, it wouldn’t matter if all of the stuff about Barnes and Lucas came out. There wouldn’t be anything anyone could do. Having an illegitimate child wasn’t an impeachable offense. If Cameron was actually elected president, the scandal would be big enough that he could make a bundle off of it, Slater mused.

  He opened a second bottle. This time he looked at it. It was barely a full swallow of vodka, but he had no doubt it was an expensive swallow.

  He could write a tell-all book. Hell, he’d start on it now, so it would be in place when the scandal was fresh in the minds of the public. It would be a best seller.

  All he had to do was ensure that the scandal didn’t break until after the election.

  The vodka started to work, making his stomach calm down and giving him a warm glow. The real trouble lay in Lucas. The Barnes fellow didn’t seem to want any publicity. He doubted Jack Barnes would be stumping for his long-lost dad any time soon. He would keep his mouth shut and his head down.

  Lucas, on the other hand, was a publicity whore. He’d do just about anything to make the front cover of a magazine. Slater was sure it had to do with being ignored by his parents, but he couldn’t bring that into consideration. Matthew Slater had bills to pay, and some of them were with very shady characters. They wouldn’t care that his future employment was being threatened by some twenty-three-year-old’s daddy issues. He had to do something about Lucas Cameron, and that was that.

  He was on the third little bottle when a sudden thought occurred to him.

  A man in mourning was highly sympathetic.

  It solved several problems. Death would keep Lucas’s mouth shut. It would put the question of Jack Barnes firmly on the shelf. It would also give the Senator a platform to talk about drugs and alcohol. Law and order could be his central focus.

  It was a gamble, but then again, he was a gambler.

  Chapter Six

  Abby’s mouth came open as Sam walked out.

  “Wow.” She’d seen Sam look yummy before, but this was ridiculous. He was wearing black leather pants with a snowy white dress shirt open at the throat. He’d left several buttons undone, showing off his perfectly cut chest. The leather was tight and looked good against the black motorcycle boots on his feet. His blond hair curled perfectly right below his ears, giving a hint of softness to the square line of his jaw. He was devastatingly masculine, and Abby wondered why they were bothering to leave the room at all.

  Sam turned around, giving her a perfect view of his tight backside. “You like?”

  Abby walked up and cupped those muscled buns. “I love, and you know it.”

  Sam turned and pulled her close, returning the favor by sliding his hands down to her ass. A small smile curved on his lips. “I’m glad you like it, baby. This is pretty much the way the Doms dress down in The Club.”

  “Is it the way you used to dress when you worked here?” Abby was very curious about Sam’s time here. She’d heard a bit about what Jack had done when he worked at Julian Lodge’s club. Jack had been the resident Dom. He’d played out scenes with submissives and trained clients who wanted to become Doms or Dommes. Jack knew exactly how much pain to give to enhance a sub’s pleasure. She knew less about what Sam had done besides his job as a bartender.

  “No, I wore way less.” Sam smirked just a little bit. Abby knew he was thinking of something naughty. “I almost never wore a shirt back in those days.”

  “And pants?” Abby asked with a giggle.

  “Optional on some nights.”

  Abby wrapped her arms around his waist. “Tell me something, Sam. Who tipped better, men or women?”

  He seemed surprised for a minute, and he tensed up briefly. He almost immediately laughed it off. “Men. Men were definitely better tippers.” He leaned over and kissed her. Abby went up on her tip toes to press her mouth against his.

  “They’re used to paying for sex,” Abby s
aid sarcastically. She thought about the way Julian Lodge had practically eaten Sam up with his eyes. “Tell me something, did Julian tip well?”

  Sam stared down at her for a moment. “Julian didn’t tip, but he paid well. He was my boss.”

  Abby didn’t quite buy that. There had been an awful lot of tension between Sam and the club owner. “Was he just your boss, Sam?” She put her hand on his chest to stop him from turning away. “Don’t. You don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to, but don’t think I’m judging you. I love you. I’m just curious. And besides, you know how perverted I can be. If you have sex stories about that scary man, I want to hear them.”

  “Abigail, you dirty little girl, I did not have sex with Julian Lodge,” Sam protested with a prolonged sigh.

  “Oh, well, I can fantasize.” Abby stared up at him. “He wanted you, though?”

  Sam grew very still. “When Jack told him we were leaving, Julian called me into his office. I thought it was strange because he didn’t pay a lot of attention to me. He was close to Jack, not me. I went, though. I was curious.”

  Abby could see where this was going. She had seen the way Julian Lodge stared at Sam. “He asked you to stay with him.”

  “Yes,” Sam agreed quietly. “He saw straight through me. He knew I wanted more from Jack than I was getting. He told me that if I stayed with him, he would make sure I got everything I needed. He promised to take care of me. He promised to be a permanent master for me.”

  “You said he never kept a submissive for long.” Abby was surprised. She’d expected that Julian wanted Sam. She hadn’t expected he’d discussed anything permanent.

 

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