by Marla Monroe
“Why aren’t you eating?”
“I was just waiting for you to get yours.” She’d been taught to wait to start until everyone was at the table. It was just good manners.
“You don’t have to wait on us, darling. Go ahead and eat,” Max said as he walked around the bar to pull out the stool next to her.
Sawyer remained standing on the other side of the counter and began eating. She realized that with her there, they didn’t have enough bar stools. She hated that he was going to eat standing up in his own place. Something of how she was feeling must have shown on her face because Sawyer frowned and pointed to her plate with his fork.
“Eat, babe. I’m fine. I normally eat standing up at the sink like an uncouth caveman, according to Max. Learned in the military to eat where and when I could.” Sawyer smiled around a forkful of eggs.
With a sigh, Taylor took a bite of eggs and hummed her appreciation for their fluffy goodness before she realized she’d made the sound. Not many people could cook eggs this well. She could appreciate his cooking abilities without compromising her irritation with them taking over her life without her consent.
“Glad you approve, princess.” Max’s amused voice only annoyed her more.
“Don’t call me that. I’m no princess,” she snapped before she could stop herself.
His instant frown stilled her, and she quickly looked away. Shame filled her that she’d acted so childishly. This wasn’t like her.
As soon as she’d finished eating all she could, Taylor eased off the stool and carried her plate around the bar. Sawyer stopped her short of her goal.
“You didn’t finish everything on your plate.”
“I ate all I could. I’m full, Sawyer. There’s no way I could have eaten all of that.”
“You’re thin, Taylor. You obviously don’t eat enough on a regular basis,” Max added.
“Look. I appreciate all you’ve done for me. I really do, but what I do and don’t eat, like the rest of my life, just isn’t any of your business.” She pushed past Sawyer and scraped her plate into the trash before rinsing the plate and utensils and adding them to the dishwasher.
When she turned around, all the spit in her mouth dried up and her muscles froze, leaving her stranded in the face of two obviously pissed off men. Their dark scowls hovering above her sent a wave of desire to her pussy at the same time it left her ass cheeks scrambling to hide. Somewhere she’d crossed an invisible line that she hadn’t realized was there.
* * * *
Max couldn’t stop the arousal that coursed through his bloodstream to settle in his now rock hard cock. Her little rebellious streak kept him on edge around her, but this outright challenge of his claim on her, regardless that she didn’t know they had her in their sights, flat out turned him on to the point of forgetting that she’d been attacked and injured the night before. It took all of the restraint he’d mastered through the years to keep from picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder to carry her downstairs and bind her for his pleasure—for Sawyer’s pleasure. She was theirs to care for, protect, and master. She just didn’t know it yet.
Well, maybe we need to clue her in on that little fact.
“Taylor, darling. We need to talk, and I talk best when bratty little subs are tied down so they have to listen.” Max took a slow, deliberate step toward her.
He watched the slideshow of emotions as they crossed her face. If he hadn’t noticed the desire and curiosity among the others, Max would have backed off. But they were there, and by God, he was going to take advantage of them.
Sawyer moved in on her from the other side as well, effectively cutting off any pathway for escape. He didn’t plan on letting her squirm away from them or her curiosity. While he would forego the lifestyle if she truly didn’t like it or want to participate, he wouldn’t allow her to make those decisions without enough information and experience to base her decisions. He would teach her about the D/s lifestyle. Then he would step back and let her make up her own mind.
“W–what did you say?” she asked, her eyes wide enough they reminded him of tiny kittens faced with a large dog in their path.
“Let’s get something straight, Taylor. From this point on, you call me and Sawyer Sir when we are here in this apartment or down in the dungeon. Understand?” Max asked.
“D–dungeon?” her voice squeaked, and her eyes seemed even rounder.
“Easy, Taylor. No one’s going to hurt you, baby.” Sawyer’s soft, calm voice eased her heart rate a fraction.
“I don’t understand.” She finally managed to take a step back, only to bump into the counter.
Max smiled when she realized just how trapped she was. He would let her retreat some for now, but he wouldn’t tolerate her running away from them in the future.
“We’re going downstairs where I’m going to show you around the club before restraining you on the spanking bench so we can talk,” Max explained.
“Spanking bench? You’re not going to spank me.” A little defiance eased back into her voice now.
“Don’t argue with me, Taylor. I’m giving you some leeway since you don’t understand D/s protocol or have any experience in the lifestyle. Now give me your hand.” Max held his out, palm up.
Indecision sparred with a budding interest and growing fear. He relaxed when her curiosity won out. No doubt she would question her sanity many times over the next few minutes. She reached out and took his hand in hers. When he closed his fingers around hers, a spark of electricity arced between them. His nipples hardened, much as he noted that hers had.
“I’ll meet you down there in a minute. I’m going to finish cleaning up the kitchen,” Sawyer said.
Max nodded at his friend before leading Taylor toward the stairs. He could feel her trepidation in every step she took. No doubt Sawyer would be able to see it as well. He almost felt as if he were dragging her, though she picked her feet up and put them one in front of the other. For the first time in his life, indecision warred with what he knew he wanted. So did impatience. He ached to pick her up and throw her over his shoulder, but he resisted and continued to lead her down the stairs and into the main part of the dungeon.
When he flipped on the lights and stepped into the massive room, Taylor finally stood her ground.
“Oh, my God!”
Chapter Nine
Taylor’s jaw dropped open in total shock. Yes, she’d heard some rumors, and maybe she’d half believed them, but this? This was way over the top of anything she’d imagined. Even with some of the books she read, she’d always heard that real dungeons didn’t actually exist anywhere except in the author’s mind and maybe some giant cities where the rich lived.
Here she stood, staring at things she had never seen before and couldn’t even guess as to what they might be used for. Along one wall stood two giant X’s she knew from her reading would be called St. Andrew’s Crosses. Between them was a couple of what looked like fancy saw horses with rings attached all over them. Off in a corner she saw several cages hanging from the ceiling just large enough for someone to stand up in. In the back, where they stood, were two separate walled off areas that were separated by half walls topped with lattice board. Inside the sequestered areas were love seats, couches, and chairs with pillows on the floor around them.
“Taylor. Look at me. Now.” Max’s voice held no option for negotiation.
Her head snapped in his direction before she even thought about it. His face was calm and relaxed, his dark, bottomless eyes free of any sign of anger or madness. She could easily fall into them and be happy all the way to the ground below.
“Now keep your eyes on me. Follow me and do as I say, precious. Nothing bad will happen to you here.”
Taylor swallowed before taking one step in his direction. She felt bubbles of worry churning in her gut, not a good thing after having just eaten. She really didn’t want to throw up down here.
Without dropping her eyes from his, she allowed him to slowly lead her a
cross the room between hanging manacles and oddly shaped tables to one of the fancy saw horses she’d noticed earlier. Now she could see that it was padded on the top with padded rails on the sides and, of course, the multitude of rings and straps that covered it. Her heart jumped even as she snapped her eyes back to Max’s when she realized she’d looked away from him.
“I’m not going to have you strip this time, Taylor, but I expect you to obey me. Come over here.” Max indicated the spot right next to him, and it was much closer to the strange apparatus than she was comfortable with being.
She looked at where he pointed, then back at him, and over to the bench once again. His eyebrows lifted, giving him a stern expression. He wasn’t pleased that she hesitated. She couldn’t help it. Why did he think she would just do as he said without thinking about it? The small shift of his head snapped her back into the present. She moved closer to him and the spot he pointed to.
Once again he arched a brow, but this time his mouth turned down in an obvious frown. She felt bound to follow his directions and found herself moving to stand directly in the spot he’d pointed at. Her need to see him smile at her puzzled her. She didn’t really know him or Sawyer that well, definitely not well enough to want to follow their every dictation. And that was exactly what was going on. She’d caved to letting them bring her to their place instead of making them take her home. She’d allowed them to bathe her and see her nude. Now she was allowing Max to tell her what to do again, and she was very afraid that he wanted to tie her over the bench she stood next to now.
As if reading her thoughts, Max gently maneuvered her to the end of the bench then urged her to straddle it, placing her knees on the padded sides while her chest and abdomen draped over the padded top. By the time she fully understood what he was up to, he’d already managed to buckle leather cuffs around one wrist, securing her to the bench.
“Max?”
“The correct term is Sir,” was all he said.
Another cuff was buckled around her other wrist.
“S–sir?”
“Yes?”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m helping you settle down so you can listen to what Sawyer and I have to say. This way, you have to listen to us because we’ve given you no chance to run away from something you’re unsure of. You don’t have to feel guilty for hearing what we have to say because we’ve given you no say so in the matter.”
Realizing that what he said made sense allowed her to accept that he was right. She shouldn’t feel guilty for hearing them out. It wasn’t her fault for listening to what they had to say because she wasn’t able to walk away.
Straps tightened slightly across her upper thighs and lower legs, holding them in place on the padded sides. Another wider strap stretched across her back at her waist level, securing her to the top so that she was now effectively tied down and unable to move anything other than her head. She relaxed into the bindings and recognized how freeing this felt. She wasn’t physically able to do anything, which took some of the burden of how to act and react from her.
Then fear eased into her head. Why had she allowed Max to tie her down like this? Now she couldn’t stop him from hurting her if he wanted to. She had basically offered her body up as a sacrifice without really knowing him or Sawyer. They could seriously hurt her, or even rape her. Even as those thoughts raced across her mind, she knew with a deep certainty that neither man would truly harm her. She believed that and allowed that to sink in as she again began to relax.
“I can see that you’re beginning to trust your instincts to trust us with your safety. That’s good, precious. We would never hurt you, Taylor. The only pain we give is the sensual type that will intensify your pleasure in ways you can’t imagine,” Max told her.
She heard the distinct clomp of boots as someone walked toward them. Immediately her heart rate kicked up again, but when she looked in that direction, Sawyer finally moved into view. Slowly she settled down again. There was no one here but them. She was safe.
“Taylor. I want you to answer some questions with an honest answer. If you aren’t completely honest with us, we could hurt or scare you. Understand?” Max asked, standing close enough she could smell his unique scent of leather and peppermint.
“Yes,” she finally said.
“Taylor?” A smart pop to her left ass cheek startled a squeak from her.
“Sir. Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl. Now. Is there anyone you’ve dated in the past who wasn’t happy with your breakup?” Max asked.
“What? I thought we were talking about this.” Confusion had her stiffening up once again.
Another hand came down on her right butt cheek with a little more force.
“Answer the question, Taylor. We’ll get around to talking about all of this.” Max’s hand smoothed down her back. “Are you hurting anywhere from last night? I don’t want you in pain, precious. What about your breast?”
Heat rushed to her face at the memory that he and Sawyer had seen her nude. She shook her head no, then at a swift swat to her backside, she answered out loud.
“No, Sir. I’m not hurting anywhere except my ass.”
Sawyer’s soft chuckle didn’t prepare her for the slightly harder spank to the area just below her buttock where her thigh began. This time it burned a little. She angled her head to scowl back at Max.
“I don’t hear you answering the question, Taylor. Do I need to remind you again?”
“No, Sir. I don’t know of anyone I’ve dated that was upset or anything. Most of them just never called for another date.” Taylor couldn’t believe she was telling them this.
“What about the bastard from the first time we were at the shop? What was his problem?”
“James? I just went out with him once. I didn’t see any reason to waste time with him when I didn’t enjoy myself. All he wanted to talk about was his family and how important he was.”
“How many times had he bothered you besides that time? Has he said anything to you since then?” Sawyer asked.
“Um, I don’t know. Three or four times, I guess. I haven’t heard from him since that night.”
“Can you think of any reason someone would want you to leave? A disgruntled customer? A neighbor that isn’t happy with you living in the area,” Max suggested.
“No, I’ve racked my brain trying to think of why anyone wouldn’t want me here. I just can’t come up with anything.” Frustration laced her voice.
“Taylor, why do you drive a ten year old piece of junk when you’re obviously doing well with your business?” Sawyer asked out of the blue.
“W–what? I mean, Sir?” She quickly corrected her mistake in hopes it would keep her from getting swatted again.
“You should be able to afford a newer car than what you have. Your business seems to be doing well. Are you being blackmailed for some reason?”
“No! Sir. I’m not being blackmailed, and business is pretty good, but it costs a lot to run a business. My insurance, taxes, and rent have all gone up.”
“You don’t own your building?” Max asked.
“Um, no. I pay rent,” she said.
“Who owns the building?” Sawyer asked.
“Um, Mr. Chesterfield. He owns a lot of property in the town and surrounding county. He’s the president of the bank here in Perkins City.”
“So if you pay rent and don’t own the building, are the taxes you’re paying for the house?” Sawyer asked.
“Yes, Sir.”
Sawyer bent and checked all of the cuffs and straps holding her in place. “Are you hurting anywhere, Taylor?”
“No, Sir.”
“Taylor, has anyone approached you about selling your business?” Max asked.
“Well, Mr. Chesterfield wanted to buy it when Mom and Dad first left, but I told him I didn’t want to sell it. Then I was contacted by someone from out of town offering to buy it from me. I told them I wasn’t interested and haven’t heard back from them. Why?”<
br />
“Were their offers reasonable or way below the shop’s value?”
“Well, I thought they were too low, but Mr. Chesterfield told me I was placing too much value on it. Then the realtor who presented the other offer told me the same thing, but I really think that I’m right. I mean, how could Mom and Dad have raised all of us running it if it wasn’t worth more than the measly dollar amount they’d offered? Right?”
“So all of the profits you receive from the shop are divided up between you, your parents, and brothers now?” Sawyer asked.
“Um, no. My parents gave me the store, and I bought my brothers’ shares of the house from them. Mom and Dad gave them money to get started in Dallas. I don’t split up the profits at all.”
“And you don’t have enough money in profits to buy a decent car? Are you paying on a loan where you bought out your brothers?” Max asked.
“I don’t understand what all of this has to do with my attack last night,” she said in frustration.
“Answer the question, Taylor,” Sawyer said with a growl to his voice.
“No, I’m not paying a loan back. I had saved up the money from working at the shop and was able to pretty much buy them out with cash. The small amount I owed them after that, I paid them monthly from the profits out of the coffee shop.”
“And the car?” Max asked, his voice sounded impatient.
“I could probably buy a newer car, but I would worry about being able to make the payments when business was slow.”
“Max? Something isn’t right about all of this.” Sawyer’s voice came from behind her.
“I agree. Taylor, do you do your own books or do you have someone handle all of that?”
“Mrs. Simmons, the lady who had always done them before, retired a few years ago, so I had to find someone else to handle the books. I don’t have time to keep up with all of it. Mom always kept up with some of the book keeping, but I just don’t have the time. I give it all to my accountant now.”
“Who is your accountant?” Max asked.
“Oliver Matthews,” she said.
