All's Fair in Love and Mastery

by Sparrow Beckett

  “I know telling people we’re together isn’t the same as you accepting a collar,” he admitted, “but I’ll wear you down. You’ll see. And if I don’t . . .” He tilted his head to the side and grimaced, as if to say it wasn’t the end of the world.

  She had a feeling he just might convince her though. At least the thought of it didn’t scare the pants off of her anymore. He’d been through too much and been alone too long—he’d never discard her the way Nigel had, without much of a second thought.

  Besides, she didn’t have any more best friends who were like a sister to her. Even if Grant eventually left her, he couldn’t do it in a shittier way than Nigel had.

  Inside, away from the wind, the lodge was warm and comfortable. As their kisses grew more heated, she let the blanket fall away and didn’t miss its warmth.

  With a growl, he pulled away from her kiss.

  “Woman, you even make kissing hot. I shouldn’t have a hard-on from getting to first base.”

  “Wouldn’t first base be groping my tits?”

  “Are you arguing with your Dominant?”

  “I would never dream of it, Master.” It still felt strange to use the title for someone after so long, but with Grant it felt right, just new. Her Master. Her cheeks warmed at the thought, and she hooked a stray lock of his pretty red hair behind his ear.

  Grabbing her by the waist, he pulled her toward him and slid her down his body onto her feet. The bulge of his dick felt like it had dug a furrow up her belly.

  He snapped his fingers and pointed at his feet, and despite her reluctance to feel the flagstones against her knees, she sank down. The floor didn’t hurt her knees anywhere near as badly as she’d thought it would. She glanced down and saw he’d placed her in the middle of the tiled sun mosaic that graced the middle of the foyer.

  From her knees, her gaze slid up the formidable height of him until she could see his face. She was happy he wasn’t the type of Dominant who always wanted her gaze averted. Part of her pleasure in submission was the unspoken conversations that passed between a Dominant and submissive, and it was so much easier and deeper when she could read his expressions. It was hard to do that while staring at the floor.

  Grant’s gaze held hers, his expression full of love. It stole her breath. Gently, he ran a reverent hand through her hair, watching her as though he still couldn’t believe this thing between them was real.

  “I don’t know how or why I overlooked you for so long.” He laughed softly at himself. “I think you were just too perfect for me. We clicked too well. I didn’t trust it.”

  “That’s how I felt about you. I was worried about fucking things up. I still am.”

  “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen—why did I friend-zone you in the first place?”

  “You didn’t see me because I wasn’t what you were looking for. You’ve always had a thing for tall, leggy blondes. Preferably with big tits. I don’t exactly fit the criteria,” she replied wryly.

  “You know, I don’t think I ever did have a thing for tall leggy blondes. I think I assumed that was what I was supposed to want. I’d never really questioned it.” He traced the curve of her cheek, then shook himself as though looking at her had dazed him a little. “I have a feeling you’re going to make me soft and sentimental in my old age.”

  She gave the bulge in his jeans a pointed look. “Apparently you haven’t reached your old age yet, because your dick isn’t looking very soft.”

  He rolled his eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh. “You just had to go and ruin my moment, didn’t you?”

  “What moment?”

  “I love you,” he said, his voice echoing with certainty in the empty foyer.

  Her heart skipped and skittered, the same as it had when he’d said it to her outside. His expression, so intense and sincere, made this all the more real. They were actually doing this. She’d tried so hard to convince herself she’d just wanted a friends-with-benefits situation with Grant . . . all because she’d been too chickenshit to let herself be vulnerable again. Meanwhile, their little feud had hurt her deep down in ways even losing Nigel hadn’t. The potential for Grant to hurt her worse was a terrifyingly reality, but it was high time she put on her big girl panties and gave them the chance to be happy together.

  “I love you too,” she said, her throat hurting like she’d swallowed a swarm of angry bees. A well of emotion strangled the words. Did he even know how much courage it had taken for her to admit her feelings for him?. This was Grant—her Grant. He wouldn’t trample her feelings.

  His green eyes shone. Maybe he thought it was their time on the island making her sentimental, but her words were true, and they had been for a while. So strange, saying “I love you” after so many years without the customary, manly punch on the shoulder that used to go with it. She hadn’t had anyone to sincerely say it to for what seemed like forever.

  Grinning, he swung her up into his arms, then strode through the lodge, carrying her like a fragile cherished thing. He mounted the stairs, holding her close, as though afraid to jostle her.

  When they reached the master bath, he stripped, then got into the tub, pulling her on top of him before he even turned the water on. Warm water rose around them as the tub filled, tickling, leaching the lingering chill from her body.

  He cuddled her and cared for her as though she were a treasure, putting her into a strange, subspace-like trance. After a long while she came back to herself, although her head still felt as if it was stuffed with cotton.

  “I can’t believe I fell in love with such an evil man,” she teased. “You’d better not make me regret this.”

  “Haven’t you heard? Good guys never get the girl. Not when the girl is kinky.”

  “I’m betting the good guys are a complete snore in bed.” She tapped her lips thoughtfully. “Come to think of it, you might be a snore in a bed. I have no way of knowing.”

  He smiled down at her, dazzling her with his masculine beauty. “Sex indoors really doesn’t seem to be our forte.”

  “Sex with you is like being hit by a freight train.”

  “Well, this freight train has transcendent experiences with you, even if you don’t enjoy them.” He smirked at her, obviously knowing better, but she’d be damned if she’d succumb to his blatant request for ego stroking. The man was cocky enough as it was.

  “Well then, I guess I can forgive you.”

  “And am I back on the Christmas card list?”

  “Maybe not the naked Christmas card list yet, but at least I haven’t scratched you off altogether.”

  “What do I need to do to get back on the good list?”

  He helped her out of the tub and wrapped her in a towel as though she wasn’t able to take care of herself.

  “I’m not sure, but there may be chocolate involved.”

  He swept her up and walked through the bedroom and into the hallway.

  “Where are you taking me now?” she asked, clutching his shoulders and laughing.

  “It’s a secret.”

  “You’re naked, I’m in a towel, and it’s pretty much the middle of the night.”

  “Just be glad there’s no minister here, or I’d be dragging you down to the creepy altar right now.”

  “Mr. Ellis, human sacrifice will get your new business shut down for health violations,” she teased, impressed at how steady her voice was considering her heart was in her throat. What man joked about marriage so early into a relationship? He was lucky she wasn’t terribly romantic or he might have gotten her hopes up.

  Not that she wanted to get married. Ever. Although maybe being married to Grant wouldn’t be very 1950s housewife. It would probably be a lot more like having perpetual sleepovers with her BFF. Not exactly a horrendous fate.

  “What would you like?” he asked, pushing open the door to the gift shop. “We
have chocolate bars, boxes of chocolate, an assortment of maple syrup for some strange reason, and leaf-shaped fudge with French writing on the package. Very schmancy.”

  He set her on the counter and she looked around, grinning.

  “I have no idea what half of these chocolate bars are. I don’t recognize the brand names.”

  “Of course not. They’re fancy Canadian chocolate, made from 100 percent moose milk.”

  He grabbed a Lucky Muskie Lodge messenger bag from the display and loaded it with two of every chocolate bar, a few boxes of chocolate, and then raided the cooler for soda.

  “Something tells me this may be the most dangerous place on the island for us.”

  “I was going to give you the line from Fifty Shades about whether you wanted to see my happy place, or my rumpus room, but I couldn’t remember what he called it.”

  “I don’t know either. I just know that in all of the memes there are kittens. Kittens are all very fine and good, but I prefer the Room of Orgasmic Snacking you have here. Chocolate? Sign me up.”

  “Wow, I’m a shitty Dominant. I dragged you down here and didn’t even ask about your hard limits when it comes to snacks.”

  She gasped in mock horror. “Coconut, Master Grant. I’m offended that you’ve forgotten.”

  He opened the messenger bag and showed her the contents then waved a hand over it like a magician. “See? No coconut. I did remember that much.”

  Of course he had. The goof.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Walking into Catacombs with his arm around Arabella was almost as good as it would be to walk in with her on a leash. The music didn’t screech to a halt, but that was only because the laptop it ran from wasn’t personally invested in them as people. Although this wasn’t the first time he’d ever had her on his arm, he guessed that people could tell it was more than friendship between them this time around.

  He wasn’t even sure anyone knew they had gone away together. Although he had told Will briefly about the lodge and the trip, it was Will staring, standing in the middle of the club with Juliet kneeling at his feet, that made Grant want to laugh the most.

  “I can’t believe he really didn’t know,” Arabella whispered to him as she caught sight of Will too.

  “He’s been a little busy.”

  Arabella looked as amused about Will’s shock as Grant was. Really, if anyone should have caught on, it should have been his brother.

  The crowd parted for them as they made their way to Will. His brother drew his submissive to her feet, stroking her long blonde hair behind her ear almost absently as he watched them approach.

  “Juliet, what’s the date today?” Will asked.

  “June second, Master.”

  “Hmm, that’s what I thought. Grant, Dex, you’re a little late for April Fool’s.”

  “It’s not a prank,” Grant replied, pulling Arabella tight against his side. “We’re really together.”

  “Since when?” Will asked suspiciously.

  Arabella met Grant’s gaze and they grimaced at each other.

  “The actual date is a little fuzzy.” Grant shrugged. “Officially since we went away.”

  Will frowned, then pointed from one of them to the other. “Is this why things between you two have been so weird?”

  Arabella nodded. “Things just sort of . . . happened. We weren’t sure how to handle it, so we kept fighting. Sorry you got caught in the middle of that.”

  “Ha!” Tarka slapped Grant on the shoulder and pointed at Arabella as though she’d pulled off a successful stunt.

  “What do you mean, ‘ha’?” Will grumbled. “Don’t tell me you knew about them before I did or I’m going to be a little pissy.”

  “Well, I saw them together in the parking lot at your wedding, so you can’t really blame them. It’s not like they told me or anything.” Tarka grinned, flashing a dimple.

  “What were they doing in the parking lot?” Will asked, brows high.

  “Putting a lot of dents in the hood of Dex’s car, I imagine.”

  Juliet’s mouth dropped open. “You hooked up at our wedding?”

  Arabella’s cheeks were flushed a pretty shade of red. “Well, that wasn’t the first time.”

  “Shit. Varushka told me she thought you two were sleeping together, but I thought she was imagining things!” Will shook his head in wonder. “Konstantin didn’t buy it either. They even bet on it a few months ago. He’s going to have to pay up—another goat, I think it was.”

  Arabella laughed and clapped her hands. She loved Konstantin’s wife, but then, who didn’t?

  Will narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “I wondered about it once in a while when you were at each other’s throats, but the thought of you two together just doesn’t click in my head.” He shook his head as though trying to get the idea to settle in his brain. “How does this even work? You two are too much alike.” He scrubbed a hand over his eyes as though the idea was a nightmare.

  “You disapprove?” Arabella asked, her mouth turning downward.

  Ugh. Grant wanted to punch his brother out for that. Things were so tenuous as it was, he didn’t have to make things more complicated with his patent disapproval.

  Juliet grinned and pulled them into a hug then stepped back. “I’m so excited for the two of you! I had a feeling that was what was going on, but I didn’t want to say anything if you weren’t ready to talk about it.”

  “You knew?” Will asked, frowning at her in a way that suggested the answer had better be no.

  “I sort of suspected, but I didn’t want to stick my nose into their business by gossiping about it to you.”

  “Telling your Dominant what you’re thinking isn’t gossiping, woman.” His brows drew down, and Grant had a feeling she’d be paying for that later.

  Tarka congratulated them, too, then Echo, then pretty much the rest of the club, one member after another.

  “So you’re really doing this?” Will asked later, when he caught Grant alone in his office. “Not only are you and Dex together, but you’re leaving me all summer, every summer?”

  Surprisingly, his brother looked hurt.

  “I don’t want to leave you high and dry, but I need my own life. You have Juliet and the baby now. You don’t need me underfoot all the time.”

  Will glared at him. “You’re not fucking underfoot, Grant. You never were.” He ran a hand through his hair, scratching at the back of his head. “If you feel like you need to go I understand, but don’t think you’re doing me a favor by abandoning me.”

  “If you need extra help around here—”

  “It’s not about that! You and I have been closer than most brothers—we’ve been each other’s only family for so long, and now you just . . . leave?” Will shrugged as though his emotions were making him uncomfortable. “I mean, did I do something to piss you off or make you feel like you had to go?”

  “No, man. I just need my own life—not all the time. Just a few months a year. A place where I’m not just your little brother.”

  “You were never just my little brother. You’re my best friend. You’re my business partner—fifty-fifty. We’ve been together through so much shit. You’ve been the one constant in my life and the only person I could count on for so many years.”

  “I’m not leaving for good. It’s just seasonal.”

  “I know, but . . .” He scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and started to pace.

  Grant’s throat felt thick, and he fought off the urge to make a dumb manly joke to cover the emotions he was feeling.

  “And Dex. I’m glad for you two, but I feel . . .” He gestured emphatically but with no real meaning.

  “What?” Grant’s hackles went up.

  He stopped pacing and stared Grant down. “I love you, you fucking idiot. If you two are together and stay toget
her, it sort of makes me unnecessary in your life, doesn’t it? You’ve got each other, you’ve got your own business. It’s like you’re flipping me off in the rearview as you drive away.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Never mind.” Will sighed and shook his head. “There’ve just been so many changes lately that I’m having trouble adjusting. I feel like I wasted so much of my time with you and now you’re leaving me. I’m sorry if I haven’t been a very good brother since Beau came. I should have just known about you and Dex. Should have known you were unhappy at the club and done something about it.”

  Tears stung Grant’s eyes and he looked away from Will, unable to stay in control if the expression of guilt on his brother’s face didn’t ease. Grant took a deep breath before shifting his gaze back to him. “This isn’t because of you, Will. I’m not leaving forever. It’ll just be for the summers. Hell, I used to be gone longer during the school year when we were kids. I don’t know why this is suddenly such a big deal.”

  Will looked like Grant had punched him in the gut. “It was always a big deal to me. Maybe I didn’t show it because you were my kid brother, and Dad had no use for weakness, but every time he sent you away to school I . . .” His mouth twisted and he looked away toward the window, even though the curtains were closed. “I tried everything to get him to listen to me, but he refused to pull you out of that hellhole.”

  “What are you talking about?” Grant asked uneasily. Will had no idea what went on at the school—he couldn’t have known. There was no way that their father had told Will, and Grant definitely hadn’t.

  “I was a kid, but it’s no excuse. I should have figured out some way. I thought about taking you and running away so many times, but Dad always had you on lockdown when you were home, and I didn’t know anyone who would take us in.”

  “Why would you have taken me and run away?” Grant said, feeling like he was missing something.

  “Oh, for god’s sake, Grant! Did you think I didn’t see the bruises? Did you think you didn’t yell when you had nightmares? Why do you think I used to sleep in your room when you were home?”