Trusted (Club Indigo Book 2)

by Karen Nappa

  "What? With you on one side of the desk and me on the other? What would be the fun of that?" Suzie asked.

  "I was thinking more like you could sit in my lap while we ate. If ye had time, there might even be a special dessert for ye."

  "Connor, you can't talk like that here in the open. These people are my customers and my employees," Suzie whispered. "This conversation is completely inappropriate.

  "Aye, I'll give ye that," Connor agreed, although the tight lines around his eyes and mouth showed his unhappiness.

  "To change the subject, would you like to come over for dinner Saturday night and meet the children? I've told them a little about you. Abby's excited, Tim, not so much."

  "I've just been waiting for you to ask," Connor said, mollified after his lunch plans had been stymied. "What time?"

  "We eat at six, so could you come around 5:30 pm? Five if you're interested in model trains. If you are, it might help win Tim over."

  "Sorry, love, never looked at any kind of train twice. I'll bet any son of yours would know right away if I tried to fake interest."

  "Very true. He's a lie detector when it comes to his trains. We'll see you at 5:30."

  "I'll get it," Tim yelled on his way to the front door.

  "Wait, Tim, that's probably—" Suzie's sentence died as Tim tore open the front door.

  "Who are you?" the boy asked. He stepped back and revealed Connor in jeans, a polo shirt, and a leather jacket. His square jaw held a hint of a five o'clock shadow and he had a bunch of flowers in his left hand.

  Suzie wiped her hands on a kitchen towel as she stepped into the hall. "As I was saying, Tim, this is my friend, Mr. Carmichael. I told you he was going to be having dinner with us tonight."

  "Oh." The one word spoke volumes of Tim's opinion of that prospect.

  Connor didn't react to that and held out his hand. "Hello, Tim, it's good to meet you."

  Tim stared at the hand almost to the point of rudeness until Suzie cleared her throat behind him. He took the outstretched hand and said, "How do you do?" in such a low tone, Suzie had to strain her ears to hear him.

  Before Connor could answer him, a bundle of energy and happiness came bursting into the cramped hall. "Is he here? Can I meet him? Where is he?"

  "Hello, lass, you must be Abby," Connor greeted the little girl while still standing in the entranceway.

  Abby pushed against Tim's shoulder. "Come on, Tim. Let him in and close the door. It's cold outside, and I want to shake hands with him, too."

  Tim eyed Connor. He couldn't say he was happy with the guy here, but he didn't look like an ax murderer or like the horrible man Josh's mother had brought home a couple of months ago. Still, the guy was huge and muscled.

  Connor hadn't moved. He felt the struggle in Tim and decided to give the boy some space. From what he heard about him from Suzie, Laura, and James, the boy was very protective of his mother and sister, and Connor liked that in him.

  Abby pulled on Tim's arm again. "Ti-im. Let him in." Tim moved out of the way.

  Connor chuckled inwardly at the boy's response to his sister. As he came in, he handed the flowers to Abby. "These are for you and your mother." At her wide smile, he knew he had scored a point. Tim was the challenge. He turned to Suzie and gave her a chaste kiss on the lips. "How are you this evening, missy?"

  "I'm fine. The flowers are beautiful. Dinner will be ready in about half an hour. Tim, could you take Mr. Carmichael's coat and put it in the closet, please?"

  Although Tim didn't say anything, he held out his hand for the coat and moved down the hall to hang it up.

  "Abby, please take the flowers to the kitchen and choose a vase, since they're for both of us. The living room is through there, Connor. Would you like something to drink?"

  "A beer would be nice, thank you. Dark if you have it."

  "I thought you might be a dark man. I have Guinness stout. It's my father's favorite. Make yourself at home and we'll bring your beer to you in a minute."

  Tim returned with Connor's Guinness and then stood awkwardly looking out the window. Connor took a long pull from his glass and then asked, "What grade are you in, Tim?"

  "Seventh."

  "What do you like best at school?"

  "Soccer, but that's in the spring. Right now, we just play at the Y. It's mostly just to keep our skills up"

  "One of my favorite sports. What position do you play?"

  "Forward."

  "How is your team doing this season?"

  "Fine.

  Suzie was standing outside the door listening to Tim's monosyllabic answers. She came into the room and said, "Tim, you can do better than that. Why don't you tell Mr. Carmichael about your last game?" The steel edge beneath her pleasant voice let Tim know she expected better behavior.

  Tim got the message. "Our last game was good. The first half was scoreless until the last two minutes, when my buddy Josh passed the ball to me and I got a clear kick straight into the net. In the second half, I intercepted the ball and passed it to DeShawn. He picked it up at the center circle, rushed to the goal and made a clean shot, putting us up by two. Then I got a penalty kick halfway through the second half and scored again." As he spoke, Tim's voice got more and more excited as he recapped the game in detail.

  Suzie slipped out and back to the kitchen.

  "You sound like quite the player, Tim. How long have you been at it?" Connor asked.

  "Since third grade, at the Y. That's where everyone starts. It's not a school sport until middle school. Me and Josh joined the team at the same time, and we used to practice together a lot outside of school."

  "Maybe I could come to a game sometime?"

  Tim realized he didn't want to like the interloper and returned an unenthusiastic, "I guess. It doesn't matter to me. The season's over in a couple of weeks anyway."

  "I'll be sure to ask your mother to bring me to the next game. I spent my summers in Scotland, growing up, and soccer, which they call football over there, is very popular. I still know my way around a field."

  Abby came in to tell them dinner was ready, and the three of them went to the dining room. The table was set simply, with his flowers in an exquisite cut glass vase adding an elegant touch.

  The four of them sat down, the children on either side of Suzie and Connor across from her. Abby and Tim bowed their heads for the traditional grace. "Bless us, oh Lord, and these thy gifts which we are about to receive. Divinely, save us in Christ's name. Amen."

  Suzie had stuck to basics that she knew the children would eat without complaint—a generous green salad, scalloped potatoes, country style green beans and roast beef with gravy.

  Connor rubbed his back vigorously with a towel. He had woken up at 3:00 am from his most frequent nightmare. In it, he had found his best friend and lieutenant hanging from a beam in the office they shared at headquarters in Afghanistan. He felt lucky to have awakened before it turned into the deaths of his entire company. He knew trying to sleep again would be futile, so he got up to do some work. Today, he would visit his mother, and he wished he could hide his fatigue behind make-up like women did. He didn't need to wipe the fog from the mirror to know how he looked! His mother might be old, but she wasn't blind. Connor placed the towel on the sink and unconsciously placed his right hand on the tattoo. Unlike a lot of other veterans, he only had this one. Fallen But Not Forgotten ! Getting the tattoo was the first thing he had done when he'd returned from his last assignment. He had dedicated twenty years of his life to the Army. Connor sighed and put toothpaste on his toothbrush. He would forgo shaving, maybe it would distract his mother from the dark circles under his eyes. Despite the fatigue that plagued him, he smiled around his brush. Aye, that'll work with her. Not!

  "Connor, my boy," the vital woman with a shock of white hair said. Her bony hands took both of his in a grip with surprising strength when she pulled him down for a kiss on the cheek.

  Connor grinned down at her. "Hello, Mother."

  She let g
o of his hands to cup his face. "You look tired, and you haven't shaved."

  Despite his exhaustion, Connor chuckled. "Mother, I'm always tired. I work hard for a living." He and his father hadn't been able to hide a thing from her, except he'd never told her about the war and Lieutenant Tom O'Neill.

  "Oh, my boy."

  Connor blinked out of his memory and returned his attention to his mother. "How is your knitting group these days?" he asked politely.

  Elaine Carmichael narrowed her eyes at her only son. She ignored his question to return to her own agenda. "You know you have to talk about it one day." She squeezed his hand before letting it go and gesturing to the sitting area.

  Connor felt his back stiffen. "I'm okay."

  His mother gave a small smile that didn't reach her eyes. "No, you're not. You're strong." After a pause, she added, "But being strong is not the point. You haven't been 'okay' since you left the army, and you're as stubborn as your father was."

  "Aye," Connor sighed.

  They just sat there for a moment, both lost in the past, but happy to be in each other's company. His mother was the first to set her memories aside when she rose to make them a cup of coffee. His nightmare had gotten to him. Somehow, he felt more vulnerable, more open.

  After his mother made the coffee just the way he liked it, he told her about the funeral. Although the Carmichael family had forgiven his father for staying with her in America, there hadn't been a strong connection between his mother and Uncle Angus. Still, she listened intently as Connor told about the funeral, the estate, and the family.

  "How is Margaret holding up?"

  Connor sighed. "She's being brave, but it's hard on her. Luckily, she has Hamish and Bonnie." His mother nodded and picked up her cup of coffee.

  "What have you been up to lately?" His mother stirred the dark liquid in the delicate china cup.

  "Not much, besides work. I'm having trouble keeping up with everything. I took on one new client that I'm really excited about. I'm going to be working with two women who have a small café." Connor stared down in the fragile cup he cradled between both hands.

  His mother hummed but refrained from commenting further.

  The following Saturday, Connor and Suzie were in the living room at Connor's house. A plate with an assortment of cheese, nuts, and cut-up fruit was on the coffee table. Connor sat on the comfortable couch, his upper body turned in her direction. His left leg pulled up a bit, bent at the knee. His left arm lay on the backrest and he looked completely at ease. Suzie felt a bit apprehensive. The first time they had sex, she hadn't had the time to think about it. Now she had.

  "What's going on in that mind of yours?"

  Suzie shrugged. "Hmm, nothing. Just—things." She reached over to the platter as his hand struck like a coiled snake and grabbed her wrist.

  "Try again."

  She looked at him. His facial expression was stern and unyielding.

  She frowned. "Nothing, Sir?"

  He pulled her closer. "Nice, but that was not what I meant. I can see yer discomfort and how the wheels in yer head are turning, missy. Share those thoughts."

  "Why?" Suzie was genuinely confused.

  His mouth twitched. "Suzie, I'm a Dominant. I want to take care of ye, and I can't read yer mind. So, if ye're cold, I want to know, if ye're scared, I want to know, and if ye're excited, I want to know, too." He stroked her soft cheek. "Talk to me, missy."

  She sighed, "This is so hard. I understand what you're saying, but it's hard to explain. I don't understand it, myself." She made a helpless gesture.

  Connor patted his lap. "Come, missy, sit here. It might be easier to talk."

  Suzie hesitated for a moment and climbed onto his lap. He pressed her head to the crook of his neck and waited for her to speak.

  Suzie snuggled into his warm embrace. For someone who didn't like to cuddle, she was often in this situation, wasn't she? She felt safe, warm, and cared for. She stroked his chest. "I was thinking about later. Us, um, us having, well, having sex."

  "We've had sex before, missy."

  Suzie made a frustrated sound. "I don't know. It feels wrong to make an appointment to have sex. Like, well, like you would go for a haircut or something."

  Suzie felt him chuckle more than she heard it. "Aye, it's a bit unconventional. But it isn't different from going to the club and planning to do a scene. Ye did that."

  "Yes, you're probably right. I'm being silly."

  "Feelings are never silly, missy." His big hand rubbed up and down her arm in a reassuring gesture. "How do ye feel now?"

  Suzie let that question sink in and realized that she was feeling easier about the evening. "Better, I think."

  He rested his chin on top of her head and told her. "By voicing yer thoughts and feelings, they've lost their power over ye. What's going on in our minds can be overwhelming if we let it."

  Suzie had to ponder on that for a moment. "That makes sense. Thank you, Sir."

  He leaned forward and pulled the platter closer. "Ye're welcome, missy." He picked up a strawberry and held it to her mouth.

  Suzie blinked and opened her mouth. Connor didn't move, and she leaned forward and bit into the piece of fruit. Some of the juice coated her lower lip and her tongue snaked out to catch it. Connor couldn't take his gaze off her mouth as she chewed and then swallowed. He nudged her with the rest of the strawberry and she took it from his fingers. Connor brought his empty hand to his own mouth and licked the tips of his fingers, holding eye contact with Suzie. She's never realized being fed and watching someone eat could be so erotic.

  Connor pushed them up from their reclining position, startling her. He strode, with her in his arms, toward the stairs.

  "I want ye in my bed tonight," he growled.

  Suzie's head came up. "Not the playroom?" He shook his head and didn't reply. "Vanilla sex?" she asked with big eyes, and he chuckled.

  Connor walked into his bedroom. Vanilla? The woman was in for a surprise! He kept walking until he reached the bed and lay her down on it. He followed her with his body and pushed up her T-shirt, exposing her belly and nibbling on the flesh. He pushed the shirt higher and over her breasts, narrowing his eyes as he took in her cotton beige bra. The only good thing about it was its front clasp. He took hold of the offending material with a practiced twist and unhooked it. Suzie assisted him by pulling her arms out of the shirtsleeves and bra-straps. He halted her when she started to pull the shirt over her head and took her hands in his. With little effort, he bound her arms with the Velcro cuffs dangling from his headboard.

  "Color?" he asked simply.

  Suzie looked up with calm eyes and replied with a clear voice, "Green, Sir."

  He kissed her, and she tried to follow him when he eased away too soon for her liking, only to be halted by the bondage. He smiled and said, "Good," as he pulled the fabric from her T-shirt over her eyes, using it as a blindfold.

  Connor sat back and examined her—arms bound, naked from the waist up, sight taken away. He liked what he was seeing, but it wasn't enough.

  He focused his attention on her lower half. He tugged open the button from her jeans and slowly lowered her zipper, revealing cotton boy shorts. Although some might have called them cute, he preferred her in lace and silk or no undies at all.

  "Lift yer arse," he ordered, and as she complied, he pulled down both the jeans and the panties. He tossed them aside then stripped off her socks and picked up the spreader bar he pulled out from under the bed. He used it to bind her ankles wide apart.

  "Still green?"

  "Yes, Sir." Her voice had become huskier and lower. He remembered how she had sounded the last time they played. Maybe he could make her lose her voice altogether this time?

  "What do you say when you want me to stop?"

  "Red, Sir," Suzie responded, "or yellow to slow down."

  "Good," he replied. "Use it when you need it!"

  He picked up the nipple clamps from the nightstand then latched onto her
right breast and sucked the nipple into his mouth, pulling hard on the nub. Using his tongue, he ground it against the grooves and ridges of his palate. Her breast swelled and the areola puckered, while her nipple elongated and turned maroon instead of the dark coral her left nipple still was. Connor attached the circular vice nipple clamp and turned the screw until Suzie moaned. He shifted his gaze from the clamp to her hands and then her mouth and kept tightening the screw until she fisted her hands and her mouth turned into a stubborn line. Not good! He slapped her pussy with his free hand, and Suzie gasped in shock and pain.

  "Color?"

  "Yellow," she squeaked.

  He dialed the screw one turn back. "And now?" He knew her answer, but it was important Suzie knew it, too.

  She squirmed.

  "Suzie." He lifted the T-shirt from her eyes and she blinked up at him. "What color?"

  "Sorry, Sir. I'm green. I can take it."

  Another punishing slap came down on her exposed pussy. That hurt and not in a good way! He was unrelenting. Her gaze returned to his eyes. They were bright green, not the mossy green she had seen before. Was he mad? Disappointed in her? Wasn't she masochist enough? Suzie started to look away but was halted by his next question.

  "What was that thought?" Connor inquired.

  Suzie swallowed. Wasn't it enough she was physically bare? His gaze was unyielding, and she sighed. "I was wondering if you're annoyed with me."

  "I'm annoyed you refused to use your safeword. I can't read your mind. You need to communicate with me," he answered with an even tone. "Talk to me, missy."

  "I was afraid I couldn't satisfy your sadistic needs," Suzie admitted.

  Connor gave her a kiss. "You're a service sub as well as a masochist. It doesn't surprise me, given the way you enjoy feeding others. My need is to give you pain you enjoy and probably a wee bit beyond that." Suzie couldn't suppress a smile at 'wee bit.' He might be an American, but the Scot was right under the surface. "I need to be sure you'll use your safeword when needed."