by Chloe Cox
Which reminded him of the thing that was keeping him from going outside and joining Cate—his sister Sonya. Hell, if he was going to talk to Sonya—and apparently he was going to have to sooner or later—it was better to do it now, when he was feeling more generous than he was likely to feel ever again.
Man, he thought as he dialed Sonya’s number, she should send Cate a goddamn fruit basket for this.
“Soren,” she said.
He hadn’t heard her voice in years. Still hard. Still cold.
“What do you want, Sonya?”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
Soren calmed himself by watching Cate. Desi was actually licking her face.
“I don’t have the patience for this, Sonya,” he said. “Just tell me what you want and we’ll be done with it.”
“I don’t want anything from you,” Sonya said, and she actually sounded upset. Soren reminded himself that it was a trick. It was always a trick. “I told you, I’m getting calls about Julia. I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Sonya, cut the shit. You don’t care what I want you to do. You’re asking for something, so just fucking ask for it outright.”
There was a pause. Soren almost thought she hung up.
“Pop had a heart attack,” she said.
Soren blinked. His stepfather had had a heart attack?
“I didn’t know that,” he said.
“He didn’t want to call you,” she said. “He’s fine now, he was just in and out of the hospital really quickly, and I didn’t think…and then he asked me not to call you.”
“Sounds about right.”
His stepfather, Ted, had always hated him, and that hadn’t been helped by Soren’s success. The mean old bastard would probably see having a heart attack as admitting weakness.
“But I thought you should know,” Sonya went on. She sounded…nervous? His sister, the heartless ice queen, sounded nervous. It was the weirdest goddamn thing.
“Sonya…”
“Listen, I don’t want anything, I promise,” she said quickly. “I’m done with that and I’m sorry, Soren. I know you’ll never believe me, but I’m so sorry for…for all of it. It’s just that they keep calling about Julia.”
“Jesus,” Soren said. Cate’s attention was drawn away, toward the walk leading to the front of the house—she was waving at someone. “You already said that, Sonya.”
“I know,” she said just as Declan and Molly came into view outside. They knew he had Cate here for the weekend, so this was no accident. Molly was meddling.
Sonya went on. “But they keep asking about her overdose. They keep asking if you guys ever got high together.”
It took a lot to shock Soren Andersson, but that did it.
“You know the fucking answer to that, Sonya,” he said. “So just tell the fucking truth.”
He hung up the phone.
Cate had never been much of a dog person. She didn’t understand the blind affection and unearned loyalty, and so she didn’t understand dogs. Desi, however, was not a normal dog. Desi was…
Desi was Desi. More like a cat, maybe? Except not quite that, either. From the outset Cate had recognized that look. Desi was careful, cautious, and was going to make Cate work for his affection. That, Cate understood.
They got along great.
And now that Cate was playing with a dog, of all things, on this secluded piece of beach on the Malibu coast, alone with Soren, she truly felt like she’d been transported to another world. He’d tied her up and done things to her that had shown her…she still didn’t know exactly what. She had no words for it. Did anybody? Did it matter?
This was an entirely new world. A better world. And it was good, for a short time, to forget about everything else.
Which was why it was strange to see two people she didn’t technically know walking toward her on Soren’s private property. ‘Technically,’ because after all the research she’d done on Savage Heart she recognized at least one of them—Declan Donovan. And the blonde beach type walking next to him, sandals in hand, must be Molly Ward.
Well, this was weird.
Yet it didn’t matter. Apparently nothing could bring Cate down from the peak Soren had put her on that morning. She had never felt this at peace or this sure of herself in her entire life. For once she wasn’t worrying about what mask to present to the people approaching, or what she needed to hide. The man should bottle whatever it was he’d done to her; he’d make a fortune.
Except that Cate didn’t want to share it.
Her head was spinning with that monumental thought as Molly Ward walked up to her smiling with her hand out.
“You’re Cate!” Molly said. “You kicked serious ass today at that press conference. You had me freaking cheering.”
“Molly?” Cate said. She noticed Declan was looking at her in a strange sort of way, but coming from a man like Declan Donovan it was a little unnerving. He was the darker version of Soren—huge, and somehow more present than a normal man. Thicker. Just…more.
No wonder the two of them together made an unstoppable force.
“Oh yeah,” Molly said grinning. “Sorry. And this is Declan.”
“It’s good to meet you,” Declan said. “He needs someone to take care of him on this, or he’ll let that woman get away with murder.”
“Yeah, I don’t get that,” Molly said.
Declan shrugged while Molly looked on, and Cate thought she caught a note of evasion. “Call it sexist or messed up if you want, but Soren’s not gonna do anything that hurts a former sub, even if she’s trying to screw him over. Just take it as it is.”
Huh. So there was obviously something there. Declan was the man who’d known Soren the longest, after all, and he definitely seemed to know more about this than Cate did.
So she filed that away for future reference.
“Well, it’s good to meet you both, finally,” Cate said. “I’ll be scheduling follow-ups with both of you, if you don’t mind. I know my associates have been thorough with their interviews, but—”
“You don’t have to explain,” Declan waved her off. “We’ll do whatever you need. And here comes the dumbass now.”
Cate looked up, back toward the house, happy and kind of turned on at just the knowledge that Soren was approaching—Jesus, this was getting ridiculous; he had really done a number on her—and she saw him. Towering bulk, dressed in white trousers and one of those tank tops that might as well have been spray painted on, blond hair whipping around his head in the ocean breeze. He was mesmerizing.
Cate didn’t even notice she was cold until she saw he was carrying a sweatshirt over his arm.
And then, as he came closer, she saw his face.
It wasn’t the focused aggression of the Dom, or the careful attentiveness of…well, of Soren, and it wasn’t the smiling face she loved to see. The man looked like a storm gathering on the horizon. There was definite doom and gloom, and Cate felt it hit her right in the chest, as though they were connected. As though she couldn’t help it.
Had something happened? How could she be on cloud nine while he was so upset about something?
Cate wasn’t the only one who picked up on it. Desi froze for a moment, alert, staring—and then charged off toward Soren, the dog’s high whine traveling even over the sound of the tide coming in.
Cate followed.
She didn’t know why. It wasn’t really her place; she’d only known him a few weeks and they had this very restricted relationship, and she should have been more careful of crossing over boundaries. There were a million things she should have done, but something compelled her to go to Soren.
She saw his face soften, and the relief was immediate. Physical.
“Are you ok?” she asked shyly.
Soren cocked his head at her, his eyes studying her while Desi calmed down. Then he smiled, gently.
“Since when do you worry about me?” he said.
“Since about ten o’clock this morning,
give or take?”
His blue eyes sparked. “I’m ok. Just family stuff. It’s all right, I promise. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to bend you over the kitchen counter later on.”
Cate exhaled slowly. “This morning was…I don’t know, Soren, I don’t have any frame of reference, but it was…” She looked down. They’d spent the whole day together, but she hadn’t actually said this yet, not explicitly. “It was life changing,” she said, looking up. “Thank you.”
That had been difficult, to be that vulnerable. But she’d done it. She had done it. Would she have been able to do it before this morning’s experience?
Who was she kidding? No way.
“Yeah, it was,” Soren said. “Don’t think that was usual, Cate. It wasn’t. It was extraordinary. And thank you, sweetheart, because I plan on doing it again.”
Jesus. The heat coming off of him could undo her, even from a few feet away.
Cate looked up at him again to find those steady blue eyes on her. She loved it, the way he looked at her. She tucked her windblown hair behind one ear and impulsively said, “I like it when you laugh.”
Soren raised his eyebrows. “That’s a new one. I’m not known for that.”
“Yeah, I know,” Cate said, grinning. “Such a serious Dom.”
“Careful.”
“Do I have to tickle you again? I don’t want to embarrass you in front of your friends,” she said, looking back. Declan and Molly were finally walking toward them.
She turned back to find Soren smiling ear to ear. “Embarrass me? I don’t think you’ve thought this through.”
Cate giggled. “But you go down so hard, it’s like watching a redwood fall. Just sad.”
“Sweetheart, you try that again, and I’ll have you your ass in the air and over my knee so quickly your head will spin,” he said. “I don’t care who’s watching, believe me.”
Cate looked at him, wide-eyed and breathing hard. He was serious. He was smiling, but he was serious.
He looked her up and down with obvious heat in his eyes and said, “Maybe I’ll do that anyway. Now put this on.”
He gave her the sweatshirt, a big, old, oversized thing that smelled like him, and Cate melted a little bit more. It nearly came to her knees. She’d only barely put it on when Declan and Molly finally joined them, obviously not wanting to interrupt a moment.
Cate waved at them just as Soren pulled her close. Out of the side of his mouth he said, “Treehugger.”
“What?” she said.
It took her a moment. She’d called him a redwood, sort of, and…
Oh.
It was a terrible joke. Awful. Not even…not even a joke.
Cate couldn’t stop the laughter. Soren Andersson, humor-deficient Norse god, had just tried to crack a joke.
“Shut up,” he said, and she looked up to find him laughing, too.
“It was so bad,” she said. Her abs actually hurt.
Soren pulled her in against his own shaking chest, wrapping his arms around her while he laughed into her hair. “Your ass is going to be so red,” he said.
“Promise?” she managed.
By the time they’d laughed themselves out, Declan and Molly, now standing right there, were just staring at them.
“Dude, he’s laughing again,” Molly said. She was grinning.
“What’s so funny?” Declan asked.
Cate looked helplessly at Soren. How were they supposed to explain how funny Soren’s unfunniness was?
“He called me a treehugger,” Cate ventured.
“I don’t get it,” Declan said.
Cate buried her face in Soren’s chest and stifled another laugh. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m just kind of…I don’t know. In a weird mood.”
“Uh-huh,” Molly said. If anything, that grin was even wider. “You guys coming to the Bacchanal party at Volare?”
“I don’t know,” Cate said.
“Yes,” Soren said.
Cate tried to hide her surprise. Why did that thrill her a little bit?
“Ok,” Declan said, clapping his hands together. “We’re not crowding your weekend, but my girl over here had something she needed to ask you right away, and since it’s wedding-related, I had to indulge her.”
Incredibly, Molly looked nervous now that the attention was on her. She kept looking from Declan to Soren and twisting her hands, her grin looking somehow sweet. Cate decided she liked her.
Soren picked up on it, of course. Cate could practically feel him go from playful to protective.
“Everything ok?” he said. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, dude, relax,” Declan smiled. “C’mon, Mol.”
“No, he’s right, everything’s fine,” Molly said. “I know you’re already best man and all, it’s just that I’m going to ask you to do more work for the wedding.”
“It’s not work, baby,” Declan said softly.
“That’s all? You don’t have to ask, Molly, just point me in the right direction,” Soren said.
“Well, it’s not…I mean, it’s not work, per se, it’s just…” Molly looked at the ground, the sea breeze twisting her hair around her face. When she spoke again, she spoke very quickly. “I want you to give me away, Soren. I know it sounds like a lot, and we haven’t know each other that long, but I’ve been thinking about it, and since there’s no way I want my father within a fifty-mile radius of the wedding, and there’s no one—” she looked up. “No one who’s done more to bring me and Dec together than you, and you’ve had such an effect on my life in such a short time, and…I just want you to walk down the aisle with me. I know, it’s weird. But I thought of it, and—”
“Stop,” Soren said. Cate looked up to find a big giant smile on his face. “Of course I’ll do it. I’m honored,” he said, and then he reached out and pulled Molly in under his other arm, giving her a good squeeze.
“That was really sweet,” Cate said to her across Soren’s chest.
Molly gave Cate a long look. “He’s a good one,” she said.
“Give my woman back,” Declan grumbled from somewhere outside the Soren area. Soren’s chest rumbled with another laugh, and then very quickly Cate was watching Declan sweep Molly up, the two of them looking at each other like everything around them had ceased to exist, like the only thing that mattered was this family that they had built.
And Cate realized: these people, they were a family. In all the ways Cate had never felt like she’d had one herself, where hers had been hostile and angry, and Jason had been abusive and drunk, these people truly loved each other.
Soren squeezed her close again and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “You want to invite them to stay for dinner?” he asked.
“Yes,” Cate said. And she meant it.
Twelve
Cate looked at the restraints attached to the rings embedded in the bar. She looked back at Soren, standing tall and immovable behind her. She looked at the crush of Volare Bacchanal revelers partying all around them, some of them nearly naked, some of them involved in public scenes, some of them watching.
Her mouth went dry.
Somehow, she had known. She had known since she arrived that it would come to this. And now that she was confronted with the fantasy that Soren had given her, on that very first day that they met—tied, stripped, spread on the bar—she didn’t know if she could go through with it.
What did she think Bacchanal was for?
When she’d arrived at Volare L.A. for the Bacchanal party, Cate had been struck speechless. She’d never seen anything like it.
The entire landscaped compound was covered with thousands of lights. It looked like every picture she’d ever seen of the festival of lights in—where was it? Japan? India? They had those festivals everywhere, but probably nowhere was it quite like this.
Everything was lit from below and above with soft, ethereal little balls of light, the trees providing some cover for the members, but not much. And it was a party like Cate had never seen.
Soren had warned her that there would be public scenes, people dressed in fetish gear, kinks on display that she’d never even heard of, and he hadn’t been wrong.
It was a lot to take in. She’d been glad that she had Soren right beside her.
“You ok?” he’d asked.
“Yeah, it’s just…” Cate had swallowed. She hadn’t been sure what was bothering her, so she’d just soldiered on.
And the truth was that none of this should have seemed that strange to her. Over the past few weeks, she and Soren had enthusiastically explored their mutual sexual tastes. They’d been at it like rabbits. Like kinky little rabbits. Cate had learned more about herself in those weeks than in the previous few years. Their connection had only gotten stronger, so that every moment not spent with Soren now, not spent under his hand, felt like a waste. It felt like life half-lived.
Cate knew that was dangerous as all hell, especially when she was in the middle of building his defense against the bogus abuse claims, but neither of them could help it. She’d even gotten a brief reprieve from Jason’s harassment once she’d managed to convince her ex that continued contact might hamper his job prospects with Mark Cheedham’s firm. Totally made up—if anything, Jason was probably trying to pump her for information, and failing—but it seemed to work, at least for a little while.
It had been amazing. Like a fantasy, like a pretend version of life.
Which meant that Cate was sure it would all come crashing down.
And now, confronted with the fantasy that had first drawn her to Soren—being restrained and displayed like that for his pleasure—and realizing it inspired only dread and not lust, it felt like it was starting to come crashing down.
She knew it didn’t make any sense, but it wasn’t like that mattered. Soren was watching her very closely.
“Cate,” he said from behind her. He came forward and put one gentle hand on her shoulder, another on her waist. The softness of his touch compared to everything going on around her—inside her—was disorienting.
“Cate, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “I know I should want this, I—”
Soren turned her around and tilted her chin up toward him.
