by Marla Monroe
Taylor felt like a fish out of water again with her mouth opening and then closing without saying anything. She hurried to lock the front door before someone else came in then rushed through closing down the register. Despite feeling like a nervous teenager, she managed to finish out the paperwork in record time, praying all the while it was right. As soon as she stepped out of the tiny office, she realized the guys had cleaned up their table and were waiting on her by the counter.
“I–I’m sorry it took so long.”
“Didn’t take long at all. We just finished our coffee. Let’s get you loaded up and on your way home.” Sawyer took her elbow as Max held out his hand toward her.
For a second, Taylor wasn’t sure what he wanted, then it dawned on her that he wanted the keys to lock up behind them. She handed them over, feeling a little off-balanced by the whole thing. Once the door was securely locked, she found herself caged in by both men as they walked around the corner to where she parked her car every day.
“This is yours?” Max asked, not bothering to hide his disapproval.
She bristled and pulled away from him. “Yes. It’s a good car.”
It dawned on her that she couldn’t unlock the door without her keys, and she had to turn back around to ask for them. Schooling her features, she whirled around with the intentions of demanding them back so she could go home but was surprised to find two strong arms resting against the roof of the car on either side of her head. Panic flared to life, and it must have shown in her eyes because Max immediately stepped back.
“You need a newer car, Taylor. This one is sadly in need of a trip to the junkyard.”
“What he’s trying to say is that it’s a piece of crap, darling.” Sawyer’s amused voice had her jerking her head to find that he was leaning on the other side of Max, watching her.
“M–my keys?” She tried to look anywhere but at the two men standing so close to her. “Please?” she added as an afterthought.
Max reached toward the door, and she immediately moved over, placing her closer to where Sawyer still leaned on the other side of the side mirror. She was sure there was heat in his eyes as he watched her.
The sound of the lock clicking snapped her attention back to Max who held her keys out to her. Taylor grabbed them and the moment he stepped back, she opened the car door and slipped inside. Before she could close it, Max leaned in.
“Don’t close this place by yourself again, Taylor. It’s too dangerous. Make one of your employees stay with you, or ask your boyfriend to come by while you shut down.”
Taylor didn’t—couldn’t say anything to that. Not only did she not have a boyfriend, but she didn’t really know anyone well enough to ask them to come by at that hour of the night. There was no way she was going to ask any of her employees to stay late.
He stepped back and let her close the door when she didn’t immediately say anything. She could tell by the look on his face that he wasn’t pleased that she hadn’t agreed with him. It was only after she’d pulled away from the curb that she realized she hadn’t thanked them. Even if Max had been an arrogant prick, she should have acknowledged the fact that they’d gone out of their way to make sure she made it to her car safely. As she turned down her street a few minutes later, Taylor noticed that she could still smell his amazing scent lingering in the air. It was almost like she’d inhaled a part of him, and now it was sticking with her.
No one had ever affected her like Max and Sawyer seemed to be doing. Why hadn’t even one of the men she’d dated over the years made her feel even half as alive as the two off-limits men she dreamed about at night? She had to find a way to exorcise them from her subconscious and soon. The last two nights she’d awakened to find her panties soaked and her hands between her legs.
* * * *
“She doesn’t need to be closing that shop by herself.” Max glared at the other man as Sawyer drove them back to the club.
“I agree with you. But we don’t have any say in the matter, and she’s obviously been doing it for a long time.” Sawyer’s smug smile irritated him.
“What is wrong with the men around here that she’s even working there alone at night in the first place?” Max asked without expecting an answer.
“This isn’t the fifties, Max. Women can own businesses and run them without the blessing of a man. Looks like she’s doing a pretty good job of it, too. If you ask me, that is.”
“I wasn’t asking you.”
Max didn’t understand what it was about her that had him going back to her coffee shop almost every day. It wasn’t like he had the time to spare. They would be having the grand opening of the club in less than a week now. They were about to sign the papers on the land they’d bought. He didn’t need to be distracted by a pretty face and mouthwatering body.
Fuck!
Sawyer pulled in the back parking lot of Golden Shackles, parking next to Max’s Escalade in front of the employee entrance. Instead of spending the night drinking coffee and eating cake, he should have been going over the list of his new employees to make sure he knew all about them. Knowing who worked for him backwards and forwards helped him head off any potential problems before they started.
As Sawyer unlocked the door then entered the security code, Max looked around, making sure nothing looked out of place.
“Just so you know. Max. I agree with you. Taylor has no business closing by herself. I just don’t know what we can do about it. Her parents retired to Florida and left her the shop. Her brothers live in Dallas. She doesn’t have anyone to look after her,” Sawyer said as he closed and locked the door.
“How did you find all that out?” Max asked looking at him.
“I asked a few well-placed questions and listened. People like to talk around here. Seems to be a Texas pastime or something.”
“Her brothers should be seeing about her welfare. They’re bound to have friends here in town they could get to watch out for her.”
Sawyer shrugged and turned toward the stairs that lead to their apartment. “She’s older than them. They probably didn’t grow up hearing that it was their place to take care of her. More than likely, she grew up taking care of them.”
“Why isn’t she married? She’s a beautiful woman.” Max stopped outside the door to their apartment.
“I’m not sure, but all I keep hearing about her is that she works all the time,” Sawyer said as he unlocked the door. “Why are we even discussing her, Max? You said she wasn’t someone you’d be interested in getting to know since she wasn’t already into the lifestyle.”
“I’m not—interested, that is. I can’t help but be concerned that she puts herself in harm’s way every night.” Max stomped across their shared living space to the kitchen and grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator. Lifting one eyebrow he indicated the bottle to see if his partner wanted one, too.
“Yeah. Might as well.” Sawyer took his from Max then sat on the couch, propping his feet on the coffee table.
Max grimaced but didn’t say anything. Just because it wasn’t done at his house when he was growing up didn’t mean it was wrong. He had learned a lot over the years while living outside his family’s holdings. Like not all families took care of their own or their obligations, and not all men respected women for the treasures and gifts they were. Even in his darkest moments, Max had never raised a hand to a woman, and he always treated them with respect.
Not that he didn’t spank them when warranted or introduce them to the pleasures of a flogger, whip, or paddle. No, those were all reserved for like-minded individuals and still wielded with care. Pain for the sake of pain had no place in his life. Even a masochist who sought the burn of a paddle or the sting of a whip did so for the relief it provided that ultimately led to pleasure. Some people were just wired differently when it came to pleasure. He didn’t judge, but he did watch for those who couldn’t tell the difference.
“You know, sometimes things aren’t always what they seem, Max,” Sawyer said.
“What are you talking about?”
“Just that maybe Taylor isn’t married because she prefers women to men. We don’t know anything about her private life. Just because there’s no man in her life doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a girlfriend.”
Max’s heart jolted at the thought of her preferring a woman over him. No. She had obviously gone out with that James guy. She wouldn’t have done that if she loved women over men.
“She dated that guy that was at the shop that night bothering her. I don’t think she’s a lesbian, Sawyer.”
“She may not want anyone to know. This is a small town. Golden Shackles isn’t a complete secret, but it’s more like a don’t ask, don’t tell type thing.”
“No. She’s attracted to us. I can tell.” Max took a long pull of his beer, enjoying the full body taste as it went down.
“Hmmm,” Sawyer said without elaborating.
Max didn’t say anything. He just waited, thinking Sawyer wouldn’t be able to help but explain himself. His friend couldn’t be quiet when he had something to say to save his soul. Only this time, the other man remained quiet. This time Max felt pushed to speak up.
“Sawyer, she’s an innocent when it comes to what we like. It would never work out. I can’t see spending time with her when we both know it will never go anywhere. I thought you were ready to look for a nice submissive wife to settle down with and start a family?”
“Well, we sure haven’t been spending any time with her, have we, Max?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Max asked.
“Nothing. I’m beat. I’ll see you in the morning. I need to work on the water line to the bar tomorrow. It looks like it has been leaking at some point. I want to make sure it wasn’t just patched instead of fixed right. Night.” Sawyer stood up and stretched before carrying his bottle with him as he crossed the room to the door leading to his suite.
Max watched him disappear through the door before getting up and heading to his own room. For some reason the beer now tasted sour in his mouth. He poured the last of it out in the bathroom sink and quickly undressed. Stepping into the shower even before it had completely warmed up, he hissed out a breath at the cold water pelting his skin.
When he looked down, he wasn’t surprised that it had done nothing for the still fully functional erection he’d sported since seeing Taylor. It felt as if the damn thing never went down around her. The lithe beauty he’d interviewed as the front receptionist had done nothing for him, but one saucy untrained and untried woman with curves he could lose himself in kept his dick stiff and ready to fuck all the time. What was wrong with him?
He ignored it as he washed up and rinsed off, but knew there was no way he’d ever get any sleep if he didn’t take care of the problem. Angry with his lack of control, Max grabbed his cock and squeezed, relishing the bite of pain for a few seconds as he centered himself then he soaped up his hand and slid up and down the taut shaft allowing the friction to build his need.
Over and over he pulled on his dick until cum boiled in his balls. Still, release seemed out of his grasp. The more he tugged the farther away it felt. Cursing, he leaned his head against the ceramic tile. Immediately a picture of Taylor kneeling in front of him with her hands secured behind her back and her mouth open, waiting for his pleasure assaulted him. He was so fucked.
He started pumping his cock once again, all the while imagining Taylor’s sassy mouth wrapped around his dick, her eyes locked with his as he speared his fingers through her hair.
Her tongue traced each ridge and vein as she sucked him deep into her mouth then pulled back off of him, leaving his cock wet with her saliva. The sight of her lips stretched wide, taking his shaft like that drew a groan as his balls seemed to tighten even more. His fingers flexed and clasped her hair with each pump of his hips driving his dick deeper into her mouth. He wanted to deep throat her, but knew she wasn’t ready for that yet.
The slight rasp of her teeth against his stalk sent tingles down the base of his spine. Max knew he wasn’t far away from shooting his load. Just thinking about her swallowing every drop amped up the need to see the sweet contractions of her throat as she did.
“Aw, hell.”
Even as he thought about it, the picture formed in his mind and lightning seared his balls as his orgasm consumed him. Max slapped one hand against the tiled wall, going up on his toes as the muscles of his ass contracted and cum shot over his hand and down the shower wall. Ribbons of his seed coated the slick tile as he slowly dropped back down and relaxed his aching ass. As soon as he was able to breathe without gasping, Max cleaned up again and stepped out of the shower to dry off.
Slipping beneath the sheets of the bed, he refused to acknowledge that he was obsessed with Taylor. It was a harmless fantasy that all men had from time to time. That he had substituted Taylor as his submissive on her knees for him instead of someone he knew was irrelevant as far as he was concerned. It didn’t make a difference in anything. Taylor was not a submissive and not a member of Golden Shackles. Therefore, she was off-limits. Eventually, his traitorous body would accept that, and he would be able to move on.
Max was sure Sawyer didn’t believe that one bit, but he would show him. He was the Master of his needs.
Chapter Six
The afternoon crowd had been light considering how warm it had turned out to be outside. She’d thought it would bring more shoppers to browse the stores on a Saturday. Still, after the busy few nights she’d had lately, Taylor wouldn’t complain. She could use the time to catch up on paperwork and do a light inventory to be sure her numbers clicked.
“Betty, I’m going to count the store room while it’s quiet. Yell if you need me.”
“Don’t worry. I can handle a few cups of coffee, child. Why don’t you put your feet up for a few minutes and count the store room later?” she said.
“I’m fine. It’s been an easy day so far.” Taylor smiled at the older woman and stopped by her office to pick up her clipboard.
There wasn’t much to count, the boxes and tubes of different size cups and tops, coffee stirrers, and packets of sweeteners. She quickly logged the boxes of napkins, paper plates, creamers, and straws. She straightened up the boxes and found her mind drifting back to her dream from the night before. Heat climbed her neck to settle in her cheeks.
“I’ve got to stop thinking about them.”
She tore off a flap of one of the open boxes and used it to fan herself. The things she’d imagined them doing to her were shocking. How had her mind conjured up something that dirty?
From those books I read. That’s where. I knew when I started buying them I was only asking for trouble, and it’s spelled with a capital F for frustration.
She vowed for not the first time to throw them all out when she got home, but all that would lead to was her stopping to re-read some favorite part again. Taylor knew they carried the books she liked at Heavy Trinkets down the street, but she couldn’t bring herself to go inside and purchase anything like that in public. Instead, she ordered them off of Amazon and had them delivered discreetly in the popular Amazon boxes. No one would be the wiser of her buying practices like that. She’d even discovered that you could order vibrators and other toys there as well.
Once again, heat raced through her blood and her face felt as if it was on fire. She fanned herself and forcefully steered her mind back toward counting the supplies. Every move she made only reminded her of where her mind had been earlier as the rub of a box across her engorged nipples took her breath. Each step she took rasped her wet panties across her sensitive clit. It seemed as if she stayed moist thinking about Max and Sawyer.
God, the thought that they might find out how wet she got when they walked in the door mortified her. It had gotten to the point that she’d begun bringing spare panties with her so she could change in the office and not worry someone would notice. Like now, she needed to make a pit stop by her office when she finished counting. She just hoped they didn
’t get busy before she got through and switched out.
Taylor had just closed the door to her office when Betty called out to her.
“I’m on my way,” she answered.
The next few hours proved to make up for the earlier part of the afternoon. They sold out of all of the pastries she’d set out for the day. If she put more out, there wouldn’t be any for Sunday. The Sweet Tooth wasn’t open on Sundays for her to order more.
“We’ll just have to make do with soup and sandwiches, Betty. Thanks for staying over for a little while to help me.”
“It’s not a problem, Taylor. I don’t like you up here at night by yourself as it is. I wish you would let one of us work nights with you,” the other woman said as she handed her an order.
Taylor didn’t bother answering her. They’d had this talk before. Besides the fact that she couldn’t afford someone to close with her every night since the rent had gone up again, she didn’t want the others out late at night either. They had families that depended on them. Taylor was alone—just like always.
She shook that thought from her head and pasted on her best smile as she took orders and filled them. Betty stayed until nearly ten when things settled down then called her husband to come see her home. Taylor thought again about the conversation between the women form the other night about their men not wanting them to leave without them there to escort them home. Now, when she was basically alone, she wished she had someone who cared enough to demand that she wait for them to come get her.
She had no room for self-pity in her life. She’d chosen this life, hadn’t she? When all of the other girls had been going on dates and to proms, she’d stayed home to work the shop. Yes, her brothers had gone on dates and to parties, but they had worked, too. Just not as much as she had. Now wasn’t the time to rethink her choices in life. It would do her no good to allow regrets to color how she moved forward.
