Master Key Resort: A Novella

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Master Key Resort: A Novella Page 9

by Samantha A. Cole


  After parking his white Ford F-150 in the four-car garage, Dante hit the remote to close the overhead door again before climbing out of the truck, with Cooper on his heels. He was disappointed his Master wouldn’t be home tonight, because he’d been looking forward to scening with him, but Dante knew if Reed said he had to stay in Miami, there was an exceptionally good and honest reason for it. It’d taken Dante a while to fully trust the man he’d fallen in love with, thanks to two former boyfriends who’d cheated on him—one in the D/s lifestyle and the other before Dante had discovered BDSM. But over time, he’d learned that Reed never lied—not to the people who mattered the most to him such as his clients, employees, friends, or submissives. Granted, there were times when little, white lies were necessary in life, but Dante had yet to find a single incident when Reed had lied to him, even if it was for something frivolous.

  Opening the door to the mudroom off the kitchen, Dante let Cooper enter first. The dog made a beeline to his water and food bowls, which had both been filled moments earlier by Reed’s longtime cook, Greta Lange. The sixty-year-old woman was also in charge of the estate’s housekeeping and landscaping staff. Whenever Dante was out with Cooper, Greta would listen for the alert that the front gate was opening and then make sure the dog’s dinner was waiting for him. When Dante had moved in with Reed, he’d told Greta that and belly rubs were the only ways she was allowed to spoil the security canine, since it would otherwise mess with his training. Being a protector was in the dog’s blood—literally. Cooper’s father, Jester, had been Dante’s military working dog when he’d been in the Special Air Service Regiment of the Army. SASR, or more commonly abbreviated as SAS, was the Australian equivalent of the US’s Delta Force. When Dante retired after a fourteen-year commitment, nine of which had been in SAS, Jester had been ready to retire as well. His partner had been able to adopt him and let him live out his final days in peace. Knowing his buddy wasn’t going to be around forever, Dante had asked his veterinarian to harvest some of Jester’s sperm and freeze it. A year after the dog’s death at the age of eleven, Dante had found the perfect German Shepherd bitch to have inseminated with Jester’s sperm. She had the same working drive and disposition as the retired military working dog. The results were six beautiful pups, with one of them—Cooper—being the spitting image of his father. Dante had found good service jobs and homes for the rest of the litter, and, over the next three years, Cooper had far exceeded his expectations in training. It was as if the dog could read his mind most days, reminding him so much of Jester that it was downright spooky sometimes.

  Dante tossed his keys on the kitchen island. “Enjoy your dinner, boy. I’m going to take a shower then head out to meet some mates.”

  Cooper barely lifted his head out of the food bowl in acknowledgement as Dante left the room. After finding out Reed wasn’t going to be home, he’d accepted an invite from a few friends to meet up for dinner and a few beers at a local hangout. He’d also let Greta know she wouldn’t need to cook for him or Reed tonight, so she had the evening off to do as she pleased. Her car was in the large driveway, so she was still somewhere on the estate. After her husband had died a few years ago, Reed had invited her to stay in what had originally been the “nanny quarters” of the sixteen room, six-thousand-square-foot, beachfront home. In addition to the bedroom, it had an en suite bath, with a jacuzzi tub and separate shower stall, a huge walk-in closet, a small kitchenette, and a living room. Reed had even made sure the apartment was completely soundproof, even though it was completely on the other side of the master bedroom and the locked room that was a BDSM playroom, which was also soundproofed. Greta knew about Reed and Dante’s lifestyle and didn’t seem to mind it, but she didn’t need to hear them while they were playing or having sex.

  After a quick shower, Dante threw on a clean pair of gray cargo shorts, a blue T-shirt that Reed always said made his eyes look amazing, and comfortable, slip-on, canvas shoes. He locked his gun in the safe in the master bedroom’s walk-in robe, or closet as Reed called it, which was about the size of Dante’s bedroom when he was a kid. It’d taken him a while, but not too long, to get used to living in a place with so much room. His family hadn’t been poor growing up, but they hadn’t been well-off either. When he’d gone into the military, following his high school graduation, he’d lived on base for half his career before renting a small, two-bedroom flat, about five miles from the base, for the second half.

  Even though he had a concealed-carry license in Florida, he didn’t like to bring a loaded gun with him if he was going to be drinking. It wasn’t that he planned on getting drunk, but he was still cautious.

  Returning to the kitchen, he found Cooper waiting to be let out to do his business in the backyard. Once the dog was finished and back in the house, Dante locked the door, then grabbed his keys. “Be a good boy, mate. I’ll be back later.”

  Dante probably wouldn’t have his truck out of the garage before Cooper would be scratching at Greta’s door to be let in to keep her company.

  Less than five minutes later, Dante strolled through the front door of Sundown Burgers and Brew and spotted Adam Tate, Kevin Murphy, and Tony Giordano sitting at the semi-packed tiki bar out on the back porch. With a slap on Tony’s back, Dante took the empty seat next to him and said hello to his friends. Adam and Tony were both cops with the Marathon PD, while Murph, a local doctor, was Adam’s boyfriend.

  A pretty, blonde bartender, Carla Channing, who just happened to be Tony’s fiancée, set a bottle of Foster’s Lager in front of Dante. “Hey, handsome. What’s shaking?”

  “His arse, as usual,” Adam teased. Having never set a foot in Australia, he’d gotten a kick out of Dante’s accent and intentionally mimicked it at times. “Not that we mind, of course.”

  Tony snorted. “Speak for yourself. The last thing I wanna see is Dante shaking his ass.”

  Ah, it was good to get out with friends for a while.

  Two hours later, after they’d eaten dinner, the place had filled up until there was standing room only. A few more friends and acquaintances had joined Dante and the others, but it was a guy he didn’t know, sitting at a table by himself, who’d captured Dante’s attention. And, damn, he was good-looking, but in a sexy, nerdish sort of way. Definitely not the type of guy Dante was usually attracted to. He would never cheat on Reed—he loved his Dom too much and knew what it was like to be betrayed—but something about the dark-skinned man had him wanting to go talk to him—to get to know him. Was he waiting for someone? Or was he just some tourist or businessman who was passing through the Keys and didn’t have anyone to share his dinner with? Not knowing was probably part of the allure Dante was feeling.

  The slender man was wearing a white polo shirt, a little too buttoned up for Dante’s liking, black jeans, and sneakers. He was reading a book, and the pair of glasses perched on his nose made him appear scholarly. Dante wondered what color his eyes were. It was impossible to tell from that distance. The man’s coarse, black hair was tight against his scalp, but his face was clean shaven. As if he felt eyes upon him, the man lifted his chin and met Dante’s inquisitive gaze with one of his own. He licked his bottom lip, and Dante had the urge to walk over there, get in the guy’s face, and suck that plump piece of flesh into his own mouth.

  Shit! Where had that thought come from? This was not good. The man was smiling at Dante, setting off his gaydar. The bookworm was interested, and Dante had to get out of there before he did something stupid, like go over and introduce himself.

  Tony elbowed him. “Hey, how’s the new job going?”

  Thank God, an excuse to tear his gaze away from the hottie. He gave his friend his full attention. “Slow at the moment. There won’t be much for me to do until they get to the point where we need to start installing the security system. I’ve been having conference calls with this guy, Evans, up in Tampa. Retired SEAL and a hacker to boot. Knows his shit. He’s got some great ideas for the security setup. Met the new boss today. Seems like a
good bloke. His woman is really nice too.”

  “Think you’ll like it better than bodyguard work?”

  After leaving the Army and taking a long holiday exploring the United States at his leisure, Dante had taken a job with a company that supplied bodyguards for corporate executives traveling to countries where they could be kidnapped for ransom. It was how he’d met Reed. Dante hadn’t been assigned to him—Reed had his own security team of highly trained men—but after the detail was over, Reed had tracked him down and invited him to dinner. At first, Dante had thought the handsome CEO was going to offer him a spot on his security team. But Reed hadn’t beaten around the bush that his interest in Dante had been far more personal than a job offer. He also didn’t date or screw anyone who worked for him. “Honestly, if the place is anything like the owners expect it to be, yeah, I think I’ll like it better. At least I won’t be flying all over the world and living out of a suitcase anymore. It’s hard enough dealing with Reed’s schedule. Sometimes we’d go a full week or two without seeing each other. He said it was up to me, but I think he’s really happy I took the job.”

  After another minute or two of chit-chat, Dante couldn’t help himself. He furtively spun his bar stool a few inches and tipped back his beer as he took a peek at the bookworm again. But the table was unoccupied and being cleaned off by one of the busboys, so it was ready for the next customers. Dante’s gaze scanned the bar’s clientele, searching for the guy, but he was gone. Dante wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed, and that indecision scared him more than he wanted to admit.

  Four weeks later . . .

  After stepping out of the shower, Cordell dried himself off as he strode into the bedroom. A smile formed when he saw Tiffany clutching his pillow tightly. Fully sated after a round of morning lovemaking, she’d fallen back to sleep, not even bothering to cover her naked body with a sheet—not that he minded. Resisting the urge to crawl back in bed and take her again, he let her lay there for a few minutes longer as he got dressed.

  Once he’d donned a pair of dark-gray dress pants and a lightweight, blue polo shirt, he leaned over and kissed her temple—anywhere else and they’d be running late. “Wake up, sweetheart.”

  She cuddled closer to his pillow. “Mmm. Don’t wanna.”

  “We’re leaving in fifteen minutes—you have to get up.”

  She blinked several times, then stretched that gorgeous body of hers. “Leaving? For where?”

  Tearing his gaze away from her, which was a difficult feat, he opened the closet door to retrieve a pair of canvas shoes. “Out for dinner.”

  “Dinner? Sir, you do realize it’s—what time is it? Eight thirty in the morning, right?”

  He slipped on the shoes. “I know that. We’re actually going to be having breakfast, lunch, and dinner at the same time. Mitch wanted us to have a taste test with a chef he found. She’s from Miami but has a friend who owns a restaurant in Key West. He’s letting her use it this morning before they open for lunch, so she can give us a sampling of her cooking for all three meals. Now, get your pretty little ass in the shower, while I go check on the contractors and track down Dante. I want to get a third person’s opinion on the food.”

  While he’d been talking, she’d sat up and stretched some more. From the grin on her face, she knew exactly what she was doing to him. Not allowing her to top from the bottom, he glowered and growled at her. “No teasing, pet. Unless you want your ass to be extremely uncomfortable during our meal.”

  Her eyes rounded, and a second later, she jumped up and ran for the bathroom. “I’ll be ready in ten minutes, Sir.”

  Chuckling, he grabbed his gun and holster, tucking them inside the waistband of his pants at his lower back. With his law enforcement background, and a phone call or two from Ian Sawyer to the powers that be, Cordell’s concealed carry permit had come through in record time. He’d felt naked not having a firearm within reach while running errands and sightseeing. In this day and age, one never knew when they’d walk into a fucked-up situation with no warning. Better safe than sorry and all that.

  Strolling to the kitchen, he found Eastwood waiting impatiently for his breakfast. Cordell filled both the water and food bowls for him and received an “it’s about time” glare from the cat. He’d settled in nicely after the first few days in Florida and was back to being the king of the castle.

  After making sure he had his keys and phone, Cordell headed out the door. The construction crew was already hard at work. A quick glance at the parking lot confirmed that both Milo Brooks, the contractor, and Dante had arrived. Cordell found Milo in the crew’s trailer. Once he’d received an update and was assured everything was not only on time but ahead of schedule, Cordell went searching for his chief of security.

  As he’d gotten to know the Aussie better, he agreed with the Sawyers’ decision—the man was ideal for the job. He was amicable, with a take-no-prisoners attitude if need be, and definitely not a slacker. Even though they were still in the building phase, Dante had found plenty to keep himself busy, planning out everything they would need to do to keep the future guests and members of Master Key safe. The man had sharp eyes and fast reflexes and had invited Cordell to join a local gym that a buddy of his owned. The place wasn’t your typical Planet Fitness or Gold’s Gym. There were no treadmills, ellipticals or foo-foo yoga classes. Instead, it catered to boxers, MMA fighters, and members of the military and law enforcement. Cordell had felt like an old man the first day he’d walked into the place until he learned there were several other members who were recovering from injuries incurred in the line of duty or in combat.

  During a few workouts, he’d watched Dante climb into the boxing ring and spar with one of several different opponents. The man was damn good, and Cordell felt that much more confidence in him after watching him fight. Not that they expected any trouble at the resort, but, again, it was better to be safe than sorry.

  “G’day, mate,” Dante greeted as he emerged with Cooper from a wooded area between the resort and the beach on the west side of the key. In his hand was a can of white spray paint. For the past few days, he’d been covering every inch of the island, marking the trees which were ideal spots for the outdoor security cameras. Next week, Brody Evans and Marco DeAngelis were coming down for two days to go over the plans for the entire system.

  “Morning. How about taking a break for a couple of hours and coming with Tiffany and me to sample some food over in Key West?”

  Dante eyed him curiously. “What kind of food?”

  “The good kind. Hopefully, it’ll be good enough for the resort. Mitch wanted us to do a taste test—breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We’ll be getting a little of everything.”

  “Count me in. Just need to drop Cooper off at home.”

  Gesturing for the other man and dog to follow him, Cordell started for the parking lot. “No need. Since it’s such a nice day, I was told we’ll have a table at the outside seating area on the side of the restaurant. Dogs are welcome.”

  “Well, then, Coop is in, too.”

  They’d gone a few steps past the front door of the cottage Cordell and Tiffany had been staying in, when the little submissive came hurrying out, making sure Eastwood didn’t try to follow her. “I’m ready!”

  Cooper ran back to one of his new favorite humans and sat at the bottom of the front steps, with his tail wagging furiously, while Tiffany locked the door. Cordell and Dante also stopped and waited for her to join them. When she did, it was natural to let her walk between the two of them. Dante may not be a Dom, but he was a pure alpha when it came to women, Cordell had noticed. Another reason he liked the man.

  “Why don’t Cooper and I follow you?” Dante said when they neared the lot. “I might as well run a few errands after we eat, since we’re down that way. It’ll save me a trip tomorrow. Friday is Reed’s birthday, and he’s so damn hard to shop for. What the hell do you get a man who can buy everything he wants?”

  “Something you can’t buy?�
� Tiffany answered with a shrug.

  His eyebrows drew together. “Hmm. That’s a possibility, but I might just have to pick your brain for ideas over breakfast . . . or lunch or whatever this is.”

  “I’ll try to think of some things on the way there.”

  As they reached his truck, Cordell opened the passenger side door and helped Tiffany climb in. Rounding the front bumper, he smiled. He was liking Florida more and more, but he had a feeling a lot of it had to do with the woman who was spending every night in his bed and every day making him smile.

  Tiffany followed the lone waitress across the restaurant’s brick courtyard to a table that had been set for three, with Sir, Dante, and Cooper following behind. Lush greenery and flowers occupied the landscaping beds and assorted large planters. There was enough shade on the patio that an umbrella wasn’t needed to keep the sun off their table. An empty wooden bar stood off to one side, but she could imagine the place filled with tourists and locals alike when it was open. It was a block away from the infamous Duvall Street, which was the main drag through downtown Key West, but wasn’t hard to find and probably did a great deal of business. Tiffany liked the atmosphere and took mental notes to suggest a few things she liked for the resort’s outdoor dining, bar, and pool areas.

  The waitress, who’d introduced herself as Donna, waited until they were seated before saying, “Chef Adley will be out shortly. May I get you something to drink in the meantime?”

  Once she’d taken their orders, she disappeared into the open door leading inside. Moments later, a dark-haired woman in her midthirties, wearing all white, including a chef’s hat, strode out and smiled. She extended her hand toward Sir, who stood along with Dante. “Good morning. I’m Adley Markham. You must be Cordell Roberts.”

  He accepted her hand. “I am, and it’s a pleasure to meet you, Chef. Allow me to introduce you to Tiffany Armstrong and Dante Calvano. They’ll both be working at the resort.”

 

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