His Submissive (Boston Doms Book 2)

by Jane Henry

  "So, uh. I'm feeling a little hungry," she said. "I think all this drama has ramped up my appetite. I could totally go for some fries, or a burger. You?"

  "I'm taking you straight to my place, and throwing the deadbolt on that fucking door. You're not going anywhere. We'll order takeout."

  She sighed and reached for his hand, and it surprised him how the touch of her smaller, fragile hand in his calmed his fury.

  "Matt," she said calmly. "If they're going to use me as bait, you need to be willing to put me on the line."

  Put her on the line? God.

  He'd been in battle before. He'd gone through bootcamp and training for the Marines that drove lesser men to their knees. He'd been in the dark, dank recesses of foreign countries with his buddies, seen one lose a leg when a piece of shrapnel hit him not two inches from his knee, the screams and torrent of blood still vivid recollections that came to him in the middle of the night when he'd wake in a cold sweat. But never in his life had he felt such fear. The thought of her even near Marauder, much less touched or hurt by him…

  "I trust you, Matteo," she whispered. "You won't let him hurt me. Why do you think I called you today before I did anything else?"

  He swallowed. "God, Hill, if he touched you…"

  "It would kill you. I know," she said, her voice catching. She looked troubled. “Well, I know after tonight, anyway…"

  "What do you mean, after tonight?" he asked, as he took a turn and headed back to his place. "You questioned that before?"

  "That you cared about me? Hell, yeah, Matteo. You go for weeks at a time without even kissing me. How am I supposed to know you care about me?" Her voice grew stronger as she pulled her hands away from him and sat up straighter in the passenger seat. "But after tonight, at least I'm convinced you do care about me."

  Cared about her?

  Jesus.

  He inhaled. "Not bedding you has nothing to do with me not caring about you," he said, his own voice growing stronger as the infuriating unfairness of the situation hit him in the gut. "It's because I care about you that I'm not sleeping with you."

  "That makes no sense!" she said, her voice rising now, and she was getting dangerously close to getting herself hauled over his knee. "Who the hell doesn't sleep with someone they care about?"

  "Me! I don't! In fact, I haven't cared about any piece of tail I have slept with for fucking years!"

  "Well that was a dumbass thing to do!" she snapped.

  He inhaled slowly, and she immediately apologized.

  "I'm sorry, Matt," she said. "That was—I shouldn't have said—I'm sorry," she repeated, as if she suddenly remembered she was his submissive and not allowed to speak rudely to him.

  "I'm not going to spank you for that, Hill," he said wearily. He knew she was pent up and angry, and he didn't blame her. But he also knew she needed consistency from him, so he amended what he said. "But if it happens again, I will. Right now, we're both hungry, tired, and stressed out. I get it." He pulled into his apartment complex and parked the car. "And this is what we're going to do."

  Her eyes were cast down at her hands as they twisted in her lap.

  "We're going upstairs, and we're ordering food. You're also going over my lap." Her eyes flew to his and widened, but he shook his head. "Not going to punish you, baby," he said. "But I think a good session over my lap will help you put this night behind you. Keep you in your place, help you focus on your number one goal—being my good girl. I'll order us some food and you'll go to bed early. Understood?"

  Her eyes softened, and she visibly relaxed. "Yes, sir."

  He reached one hand out to her cheek and gently stroked. "So strong. Such a good girl. Now you'll do what I say and behave yourself, yeah?" He reached his finger and thumb to a cute little strand of hair that stood askew and tweaked it. She smiled. It was the first smile he's seen all night, and it warmed him.

  "Yes, sir," she repeated.

  It killed him not to take her upstairs and lay her down and claim her as his.

  But he would do right by her if it killed him.

  Chapter Nine

  "Okay, Hillary," Master Blake said in her ear. "Visual is working. If you can hear me, tap your finger twice."

  Hillary let her gaze wander around the main bar area of the club, and obediently touched her fingertip to the bar once, and then again, trying to appear nonchalant, as though she were waiting for someone.

  "Perfect," Master Blake encouraged. "Crowd's pretty dead for a Thursday so far, but I'm guessing that will change soon enough. Remember the plan, honey—when Slay comes in, be flirtatious. Then Matt will do the jealous-thing, you'll have your fight, and Matt will be seen leaving The Club, clearing the way for Griffson to make his move. You'll come to the back room here to wait safely until we've secured the smaller dance floor, then you'll go dancing and draw him out. You just hang in there!"

  Hillary fought the urge to roll her eyes.

  Yeah, she'd reviewed 'the plan' exhaustively with Matteo, Slay, Dom, Inspector Mantle, and Master Blake earlier today until she knew her role backwards and forwards. But 'hanging in there' was easier said than done when you were sitting alone at a BDSM club, dressed in the tiniest, skankiest dress known to man, while the guy who'd held you captive, hurt you, and threatened to sexually assault you might be hiding somewhere on the premises, hoping to abduct you and finish the job.

  No. You wanted this, she reminded herself. You are here because you want to be here, because you want to help take him down.

  She took a deep breath and reminded herself of the words Matteo had spoken in Master Blake's back room earlier that evening, as he'd fitted the tiny communications device in her ear.

  "Remember, honey, Blake's got every public area and employee area of the club on his monitors. Your comm device contains a chip that will track your location and a mic that'll let us hear everything you say. Plus, Blake will be directing all of us from the back room. You won't be alone for a minute."

  The knowledge almost made her feel better, but there was a heavy feeling of anxiety in her belly that she couldn't seem to dispel.

  She sighed and resisted the urge to fidget with her too-short white dress, chosen partly because it was appropriately sexy and partly because it would show up well on camera.

  Maybe her anxiety had more to do with what hadn't been said.

  She'd done what Heidi had told her to do, right? She'd let herself be vulnerable and told Matteo flat out that she didn't understand how he felt about her. And what was the sum total explanation and reassurance she'd gotten from him?

  It's because I care about you that I'm not sleeping with you!

  The words might have been spoken in English, but they made exactly no sense. If you were in love with someone, why wouldn't you want to sleep with them?

  But Matt hadn't seen fit to enlighten her further. He'd taken her back to his house, ordered her takeout, given her a thorough-but-not-punishing spanking designed to relieve her stress and leave her boneless and sated, and tucked her into bed.

  The spanking hadn't worked as well as he'd hoped, though, because what was stressing her out was lying in bed next to her with his heavy arm wrapped around her waist. So she'd lain awake most of the night, listening to the sound of his breathing and trying to retrace the path that had gotten her here, so she could figure out where it had all gone wrong.

  "Okay, let's test the audio quality," Master Blake said, startling her out of her thoughts. "Order yourself a drink."

  Hillary stifled a smirk. She was being told to order a drink? Somewhere in this club, Matteo was scowling.

  Good! How's that frustration feel, buddy?

  The snarky words in her head brought her up short for a minute. She was glad that Matteo couldn't hear her thoughts through the ear piece, or she'd be in trouble for sure.

  Hillary lifted a hand and signaled to the pair of servers, one blonde and one brunette, standing behind the bar. The cute blonde bartender rushed over.

  "Hi," Hil
lary began with a smile. "Could I please have a—"

  "Sam Adams?" the bartender interrupted. "Yeah, I remember!"

  Hillary frowned and looked at the woman's face more closely.

  "Wait, Alice?" she asked, in shock. "I almost didn't recognize you!"

  Gone were the baggy shirt and girl-next-door make-up Alice had sported on Hillary's first foray into The Club. In their place were the ultra-sexy, tight white t-shirt and black leather miniskirt that most of the waitresses wore, along with dramatic black makeup that highlighted Alice's dark blue eyes. It was a complete transformation.

  Alice shrugged and grinned broadly. "Well, I'm finally allowed to work the bar in here, where people actually tip, instead of out there in no-man's-land," she said, waving a disparaging hand towards the main club entrance. "Figured it was time to start dressing like a grownup so people would take me seriously!"

  Hillary nodded in agreement, even as Blake's voice sounded in her ear.

  "Ah, shit. Hey, Slay, if you're hearing this, I meant to mention that to you earlier, man. I know you asked me to keep her outside as a favor, but Gabby needed time off for a family emergency and Deb is too new and too green. It's temporary, so just roll with it. Oh, ah… by the way, Hillary, your audio's good."

  Huh. Slay had asked for Alice to be assigned to the outer bar? Hillary made a mental note to investigate that further.

  Alice set a beer bottle down in front of Hillary

  "So, uh… how's Slay?" Alice asked. Her tone was just a touch too casual, and Hillary could tell that she was extremely interested in the answer.

  "I have no idea," Hillary said honestly. "I haven't really seen him since the first night I was here."

  Alice nodded speculatively.

  The brunette bartender wandered over, propped a hip against the bar, and looked at Hillary insolently. "Haven't you heard, Alice? This chick isn't into Slay. She's attempting the impossible. She's trying to get Master Matteo off the market."

  Hillary felt her face flush as she toyed with the label on her beer bottle. "Where'd you hear that?"

  The brunette folded her arms across her chest and smiled widely.

  "I saw it with my own two eyes," the brunette replied, still addressing herself to Alice. "Couple weeks ago, Matteo had her pushed up against the wall in the back hall, talking about spanking her. Saw her with him again last night. And now I hear they're shacked up. Is it true?" she demanded.

  Alice's jaw dropped. "Jeez, Deb! Stalker, much?"

  Deb shrugged. "Well, pardon me for noticing every damn thing a hot piece of ass like Matteo does. In a sea full of hot guys," she said, waving a hand to indicate the club and all its patrons, "he is the hottest by far."

  Hillary clicked her teeth together. Do not slap her! Stay in character! Lay the groundwork!

  "Well, I mean, he is hot," Hillary agreed, in what she hoped was a casual voice. "But all the rules are a little much for me, you know? Slay seems a little more laid-back, and he's cute! Don't you think?"

  Alice blushed. "Ah… well… I don't know. I mean, Slay's not exactly laid-back, is he? And he's too big to be cute. But he can be really sweet sometimes."

  "Sweet? God, Alice, you're adorable," Deb snorted. "If you care about personality with a guy like Slay or Matteo, you're completely missing the point. The only things you need to worry about are the way his hands can hold a flogger and the size of his… Oooh, lawdy! Would ya look who just walked in?"

  Hillary and Alice both swung their gazes to the front of the room to watch Slay enter, his height and broad shoulders filling the doorway as his sharp-eyed gaze travelled around the room. His eye caught on Alice, then shifted to Hillary and held. He strode over.

  "Well, if it isn't Tinker Bell," Slay said, leaning one forearm against the bar. His voice was deliberately pitched deeper, sexier, and raspier than she'd ever heard it. "And aren't you looking fine this evening?"

  Yeesh. Despite knowing that it was all part of the plan, part of the setup, that voice was so potent that Hillary felt a very real blush wash over her cheeks.

  "You here alone?" Slay demanded, scowling at her like the protective dominant he was.

  Hillary cleared her throat and played her part. "Maybe," she said coyly.

  On the other side of the bar, the two servers watched this exchange avidly, and Hillary saw Alice frown.

  "Not safe, baby," Slay said, leaning towards Hillary and shaking his head in mock disapproval.

  Hillary glanced at Alice quickly, and saw that her frown had become a scowl. Shit. She'd really started to like Alice, and prayed that someday Alice would forgive her for what was about to happen next.

  Hillary slid her hand over to where Slay's arm rested, and entwined her fingers with his.

  "Well, maybe you could keep me company," she whispered softly. "Then I wouldn't be alone anymore."

  "A-hem!" Alice cleared her throat loudly.

  Slay frowned and turned his head toward the noise.

  "Why, young Alice," he said, as though he hadn't noticed Alice the moment he walked in the room. "Surprised to see you here." His voice said that he wasn't pleased, either.

  Alice blinked uncertainly, but tried to tough it out. "Well, I work here, remember? Are you going senile already, old man?"

  Deb snickered.

  Slay smiled too, but it was the sort of smile that made Hillary shiver. "What I remember is telling you that your sass was going to get you in trouble one of these days, little girl," he said. "So why don't you hurry along and get back to work, while I finish my private conversation, hmm?"

  Slay turned back to Hillary and didn't see the look of hurt and confusion that flashed in Alice's eyes before she slowly turned and walked to the other end of the bar.

  "Now, where were we?" Slay asked Hillary, swinging one leg over to straddle the stool next to hers. "I think I was just about to sit here and keep you from feeling… lonely." He bit his lip and leaned even closer, so that Hillary could feel his breath on her face. "How'm I doin'?"

  "Slay, this wasn't the plan," Blake's voice said in her ear.

  Uh… no shit! This was so not in the plan.

  Hillary swallowed and gave a nervous chuckle. "Oh, I'm feeling much better now," she said, attempting to glare at Slay discreetly since Deb was still watching them closely.

  His eyes were twinkling with suppressed laughter.

  "Hmmm… Nope, you still seem lonely," he mused. He grabbed her behind the neck and pulled her face even closer.

  "Let me take care of that for you," he said. And then he pressed his warm lips to hers.

  "What the ever-loving hell?" Blake's voice in her ear mirrored Hillary's own thoughts.

  As Slay broke the kiss, Hillary gasped in shock. A second later, her gasp was mirrored by Deb's excited one, and Hillary knew the shit was about to hit the fan.

  Matteo had arrived.

  Hillary barely had time to formulate the thought before Matteo had grabbed the back of Slay's shirt with his left hand and forcibly hauled him off his stool.

  "What. The. Fuck?" Matteo gritted out.

  "Oh, Matteo!" Hillary cried, jumping up to stand between them. "No! It's not what you think!"

  "No? Because I think I just walked in to find you kissing this asshole, right here in my club!" he spat.

  Hillary forced herself not to cower at the heat of his gaze, and she knew that part of his anger was very real—Slay had gone way off-script, and she had gone along with it.

  "Easy, man!" Slay said, his voice shaking with laughter. "I was just keeping Tink company for a minute!"

  "You don't get to call her that!" Matteo roared. Then he swung his right hand into Slay's jaw with a sickening crunch. The force of the punch knocked Slay's head back and had him stumbling over his bar stool, but he recovered quickly.

  He surged to his feet with his eyes narrowed. "Enough, man. I'll give you that one, but now we're even."

  "Fuck you!" Matteo spat. He reared back and delivered another blow, this one hitting Slay in the nos
e. "Now we're even."

  He dropped Slay onto the stool to cradle his bleeding nose in his hands.

  "Matteo!" Hillary screamed, pulling at his arm in earnest. "Seriously, calm down! He's your friend! This was not a big deal; it was just…"

  "Not a big deal!" Matteo whirled on her. "Is that right?"

  "He startled me!" Hillary defended. "I didn't want him to!"

  "That's a lie!" Alice said unexpectedly, and all eyes turned toward her.

  Alice shrank under the scrutiny, but managed to whisper at Hillary accusingly, "You were flirting with him." She turned to Slay, and said in a clearer voice, "And worse, you were letting her. And to think, you're worried about my attitude getting me getting in trouble." She shook her head at Slay in disgust. "Call Jackie to cover when you leave, Deb. I'm taking my break," she said, and she stalked out.

  "Fuck," Hillary heard Slay mutter under his breath.

  Hillary swallowed.

  Shit.

  "Get back on script, Hillary!" Blake warned her.

  Right. Okay. But what was the script again?

  "Matteo, you have no right to be jealous!" Hillary said loudly. "You've been seeing other girls!"

  "That's right. He has!" Deb interjected, slapping her palm on the bar. "Double standards are bullshit!"

  Matteo's fists clenched, and the words tumbled out before Hillary could stop them. "After all, you don't even really want me!" she cried.

  The crowd around them whispered and tittered, but Hillary was focused on Matteo. His eyes had narrowed, as though he realized there was truth behind her hasty words.

  "You are going to get the spanking of your life," Matteo said in a low voice, and she knew that his words weren't an act, either.

  Crap.

  Hillary forced herself to stand up straighter, and braced a hand on her hip. "Um, no, I'm not," she told him. "I'm done with this. I'm done with you."

  "What did you say?" Matteo asked, folding his hands over his chest and looking at her in a way that would have made her knees knock under any other circumstances.