Independence: #2 Angel

by Karen Nichols

  “I believe you’re the target, pet.” Colin said with a chuckle. “Go off with them for a while. I’ll find you in fifteen minutes for dinner.”

  “Thank you, sir,” she went to her bare toes and kissed him, stopping only when he pulled a pair of cuffs from the bag and fastened them in place. Identifiers, she knew, to keep the predators away. Vianne and Bailey waited patiently.

  “Thank you, Master Colin, for sharing your sub with us for a bit,” Bailey linked her arm with Angel’s and they walked off.

  “You realize I had plans for dinner and you two allowed your subs to derail things,” Colin was shaking his head as he met the other two Doms at the end of the bar.

  “Yeah…” Tanner watched his wife wander off with the other two. “I think I’m in need of a little serious training. I’ve become a pushover.”

  “As long as they don’t think so, we’re safe,” Gabe responded. “And we haven’t had dinner yet. Let’s go shove some tables together and we’ll send for them in ten minutes. No point in being owners if we can’t make things happen.”

  “You make a damn good boss,” Colin chuckled, dropping his bag behind the bar and striding alongside the other two. “How’re Vianne and Bailey doing? I know they’re worried about this mess with Angel’s relatives.”

  “On edge,” Gabe answered quietly. “I have someone watching out for her when we’re not together. And hell no, she has no idea.”

  “Same here,” Tanner moved a chair to the side and shoved one of the tables forward while Colin and Gabe moved chairs into place. “Hell, she’s been doing her job since college, but that doesn’t mean I don’t worry. It was part of our agreement with the resort. Select reporting assignments.”

  “The control we believed was ours, is often tenuous,” Gabe said with one hand up to signal one of the wait staff. He took a seat and leaned back.

  “Our private lives are fine once we stop the outside from fucking with it,” Colin sunk into a chair and exhaled. “Sorry. Andrea says I’m only a good prosecutor because despite it all, I haven’t lost my urge to hope.”

  “But there are times kicking the hell out of something would feel so much more satisfying,” Tanner remarked with a chuckle.

  The three of them stood off to the side, tall bottles of water in each hand.

  Vianne looked at Bailey and received a shrug so she nudged Angel gently.

  “Hun…you’re staring…”

  Angel jerked her attention back, heat flooding her cheeks. “Sorry. It’s just…”

  “Colin hasn’t used one of those on you yet?” Bailey asked carefully.

  “Well…yes…at least it was very soft feeling…” Angel shook her head. “I think part of him was afraid to…afraid how I would react.”

  “They aren’t nearly as bad as they look or sound,” Vianne told her with a laugh. “Tanner is very good with them,” she said with a sigh.

  “I think Gabe has almost the same kind of collection as Master Reed,” Bailey said in a low voice, nodding at the carefully laid out tools of the play. “Five of them and each one is just a little different. In feeling and sound. Excuse me, Sir…”

  Reed Carrington looked up from the items he was arranging in his bag and smiled at the women watching him. He gestured them forward with one raised hand.

  “What has such delicious looking subs out wandering this evening?”

  “Just kind of a girl talk thing before the evening starts. I wanted to know if I could let Angel touch those? Please. She’s never…felt them before.”

  “I have,” Angel said quickly, blushing furiously. “Only not with my…my hands.”

  Reed picked up the lightest one, the multi strands of soft leather dangling from the eight inch handle. He kept his gaze on Angel. He knew her history. After the airing of the news story, most of the world now knew of her father and his fanatical behavior.

  “Raise your hand, Angel,” he instructed in a calm, level tone. His play partner hadn’t arrived for the night, so he had time to share. He drew the strands across her open palm several times before putting it back and lifting another one. “Each one delivers a slightly more intense feeling, depending on the way it’s thrown.”

  “Thank you, Master Reed,” Angel let the strands fall but was fascinated by them as she backed away, raising her water bottle and taking a long drink.

  “Trust me…you’ll get into it,” Bailey told her with a long sigh. “The way they work, it’s impossible not to get into it.”

  “It feels strange. It’s not like we’re just sitting at the coffee shop talking about our evenings or shoes or books,” Angel crossed her eyes at the laughter from either side of her.

  “I don’t have people outside here to talk to about the club or the things that I’ve discovered I enjoy,” Vianne said carefully. “Believe me, it came as quite a shock the first couple times I was here.”

  “Even more of a shock at the intensity. God…” Bailey rubbed the cool bottle over her forehead. “It’s like…you want a scoop of ice cream…or do you want a super deluxe Sunday with nuts and whipped cream? What a choice!”

  Their laughter was just trickling down when one of the working subs came to their side. “You’re all wanted in the dining room.”

  “Oh. Thanks, Terry,” Bailey took a quick look at her friends. “I think it’s dinner time.”

  “Is it worrying you, Angel?” Vianne asked as they wound their way through the club toward the large dining hall. She met the surprised, confused look. “The floggers.”

  “I…maybe…probably not…I know he’d never hurt me and if it bothered me, he’d stop,” she raised a hand, weakly waving it. “It’s the whole thing Friday. Everyone’s on edge and I don’t know how to fix it. I know better. I know not to trust them.”

  “We’re being careful,” Bailey told her. “Gabe has someone watching me when he’s not around.”

  Vianne sighed. “Same here. But I don’t think we’re supposed to notice,” she whispered as they crossed beneath the large archway into the dining room.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Angel took in the tables that had been moved together and the collection of finger foods across the surface. A large pitcher of icy water rested there along with another filled with something red with fruit floating inside. Feeling brave, she lifted the pitcher and sniffed before filling one of the empty glasses next to her plate.

  How did she know it was her plate? Because Colin was seated next to it and quietly patting the chair beside him. And it really wasn’t a hardship to sit next to him and have him lift a slice of crusted browned potato and hold it in front of her lips. With their eyes locked on one another’s, her mouth opened and she accepted the bite.

  “So what were our subs off exploring?” Tanner laid a few of what he knew were Vianne’s favorites on her plate and filled her glass with the fruity liquid. “Sangria. One glass for each, if you enjoy a sweet, fruity wine.”

  “This is new,” Bailey said, sipping first before beaming a smile at Gabe and nodding. “Thank you, Sir.”

  “We just kind of wandered and chatted,” Vianne answered in between bites.

  “Angel was curious about floggers and Master Reed was laying out the ones he was going to use,” Bailey lifted some vegetables and began eating. “He was nice and let her feel them.”

  All eyes rounded to Angel, who was working on a combination choke and cough. For a quiet minute she kept her eyes closed until she realized they were not only all watching her, but waiting.

  “I was curious,” she said defensively, her gaze locked on the various foods laid out on the table.

  “I’ll be certain to give an in-depth explanation and demonstration after dinner,” Colin promised with a chuckle that mixed with those of the other males at the table.

  “I’m surprised it’s taken you this long,” Tanner remarked. “I think Vianne was a wreck the first time she saw me lift one in her direction.”

  “We played with one of the lighter ones a few nights ago,”
Colin returned before reaching for his glass.

  “They feel differently than they look,” Bailey mumbled, taking another sip of her wine.

  “A lot different,” Vianne concurred, sighing and leaning into the arm behind her.

  “Hmm…I think it’s a good thing I’ve been working out,” Tanner pressed his face into her shoulder and bit across the softly scented skin.

  Silence fell over them as they quietly paired off, leaving the dining area and going off in different directions after dinner. Angel and Colin were the last seated at the table, his hand on her neck, toying with her hair.

  “Are you stalling, pet?”

  “I…maybe…a little.”

  “Sex with me that intimidating?” He teased, glad her gaze lifted immediately from her plate and filled with some of that fiery defiance. “I didn’t think so. Let’s go. I have a station reserved,” he glanced at his watch and stood up, extending his hand for hers.

  “They’re worried,” Angel said softly, the warmth in his hand radiating through her as they walked toward the bar. He retrieved that mysterious canvas bag and guided her through the club. “Master Gabe and Tanner. They’re worried because of me.”

  “Wrong. They’re concerned because of your relatives. We’re not the most trusting of souls when it comes to the safety of the person we care most about,” Colin glanced down in time to see the stunned surprise on her face. “Why is that a surprise, Angel? Or is it that you didn’t expect me to admit it?”

  “Maybe if it’s not in words, it’s not real,” she whispered shakily.

  “Or maybe you keep thinking I’m going to allow your father and his sons to come between us.”

  “I wouldn’t blame you, sir. People have work stress and everyday life stress and then something like this…and it’s just not a fair thing to believe they expected this kind of crazy just to get to know someone.”

  He walked her into the space he’d reserved and set the bag on the provided small table. “Stand in front of the cross, Angel,” he instructed, sinking into the chair and waiting. “Face the cross. Now…remove your clothing. You can leave the thong,” he told her, laughing at the tiniest bit of a glare that broke free before she turned her back on him.

  He’d selected just what he wanted to see her in, something simple and gossamer. She released the button at her hip first and let the slitted, paneled skirt pool at her feet. The top had a scoop neckline that stretched and matched the deep red and green of the swirls in the skirt. He hadn’t given her a bra on purpose but she’d found one on her own.

  He tsked loudly and watched her body tense. “I just don’t recall setting out a bra to go with that top this afternoon,” he commented, mildly amused. “Do you suppose my memory is slipping in my old age?”

  “I…I’m sorry…” Came the tentative reply. “I don’t like to…I jiggle…”

  “I know. Not a lot, mind you, but enough to keep my cock hard and anticipating playing with the nipples when they pebble up. Turn around and let me see.”

  She did as he said, the top falling to the floor before she bent her arms and limberly released the two snaps behind her back. The straps slid down her arms. Arms that scrunched a little together until she looked up and saw his face. Slowly, she relaxed her arms to her sides, letting the straps slide to her fingers. One hand released it, letting it swing to the other.

  “Fold your things and lay them here, on the table.”

  Angel stared at him for a quiet minute before bending and lifting her things from the floor. She walked to the table and carefully folded them, leaving them sit next to his bag before biting her lip and waiting for him to say something.

  “A problem, sub?”

  “No, sir,” she answered after a lengthy pause, her chin up and dark eyes watching him closely.

  “Move to that corner,” Colin pointed to the corner behind the cross. “The markings are on the floor. Pace off the space we have to play. Oh…hands behind your back, please.”

  Adding the please didn’t soften it and she knew he was deliberately doing it because she’d worn a bra tonight. Angel ground her teeth, squared her shoulders and moved to the corner.

  “Around the box…sir?”

  “My, my…just a bit on the surly side. All from a little walk?”

  “I…you…” her back was too him and she stood quiet for a few seconds. “I thought it had been a…a mistake.”

  “And you didn’t ask.”

  “I felt silly asking about a…a…”

  “I laid everything out for you, Angel. Even shoes. Did you honestly believe I’d forgotten a bra?”

  She hated the laughter in his voice and spun on her bare toes. With hands clasped behind her, she marched off the large square of play space on the floor.

  “Slower. We’re not in a foot race. Besides, I like watching you move. It’s quite erotic and arousing.”

  “Interesting display, Colin,” Reed Carrington commented, a trace of humor in his voice.

  “I’m at work here,” Colin tossed back, looking up and winking when he was sure Angel couldn’t see them.

  “Strenuous.”

  “Eye strain,” Colin agreed. “She swears she jiggles without a bra. I just can’t see it. Can you?”

  “I hate you.”

  “Lying to your Dom…” Colin chuckled and tsked at the same time, his laughter joining that of Reed’s.

  “I’m guessing this is a corrective behavior measure.” Reed leaned against one of many supporting columns, his arms raised and crossed over his chest.

  “I laid out her clothing. Sans bra,” Colin looked up with a little shrug.

  “Ahh…well, from a completely objective point of view…not a single jiggle to be seen.”

  They watched her mouth open and close with an audible snap as she continued around the eight by eight space.

  “Of course, we’re not females,” Reed pointed out, his voice low and clinical. “They tend to feel things differently than we do.”

  “Very true there. I, for one, completely love the differences.” Colin sat up straight and raised his voice. “Come over and face the cross, Angel.”

  Her shoulders shuddered when she came to a stop, turned and went to the cross. She was about to face into the large, smooth wooden structure when a gruff, loud voice broke the spell around them.

  “I didn’t see any jiggle,” the voice declared. “But I bet if pretty boy here was naked, I could make him shake and rattle.”

  Colin and Reed were on their feet, facing the tone that was far from respectful.

  “Evan,” Colin said with a nod. The sub of Mistress Dianna tipped his head down, his hands carrying two large bottles of water.

  “Sirs,” he responded politely.

  “Your mistress should have you naked, boy,” the burly, clean shaven man declared. He ran a hand over the hair-free dome of his head, his eyes traveling along Evan’s exposed body. He wore the collar Dianna had bought him, as well as a pair of snug bike shorts, his broad chest bare.

  “My mistress prefers to keep me to herself, sir,” Evan answered carefully. He glanced over at Angel and winked. “So I don’t jiggle.”

  Colin and Reed offered a laugh that ended abruptly. The unknown man had shot out his hand, gripping Evan’s collar and pulling up on it sharply. There wasn’t much difference in their heights, but Evan was barefoot and lighter in weight.

  Not accustomed to being manhandled, his hands and body reacted accordingly. Still holding the bottles of water, he spun swiftly. The elbow closest snapped down hard on the man’s upper arm while the other hand shot out, and up. The plastic bottle filled with water caught him in the throat and sent him stumbling back two steps.

  “That’s why you’re a damn good monitor,” Reed remarked in approval. Then his gaze fell on Angel. “Colin…you’d better see to your sub.”

  “Angel?” He turned from the scene. Two of the designated monitors had come forward, keeping the man encased between them while he recovered and to keep him
from further assaulting Evan. Colin was across the small space immediately, whipping a blanket from the shelf behind the cross and wrapping her in it. It wasn’t the least bit cold, but she was pale as ice and just as cold, shaking so much he thought her bones would rattle. “Talk to me, Angel.”

  “He works for…for…I’ve seen him at my father’s,” she whispered shakily, trying to back away and get behind something. “He works for…that man…”

  “Leonard?” Colin accepted the nod this time. “On the floor, Angel. On the pillow, kneeling, head down.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  He waited while she did as he ordered, her breathing slowly returning to normal. The pillow was nice beneath her knees and he remained beside her, his hand stroking gently over her head.

  “Does he have ID?” Colin asked flatly, directing his question at one of the monitors.

  “I’ve never met him before,” Evan stated, the water set down as he loosened the collar and rubbed his neck.

  “Dianna is going to be livid,” Reed said quietly when he saw the red, bruised abrasion where the collar had been twisted into his skin. “What is with these people?”

  “Master Colin,” Alex held out the man’s wallet, avoiding the hand that tried to grab it back. The monitor on the other side of him, kept a biting hand on his shoulder, refusing to allow him to rise to his feet.

  “How long have you been a member here?” Colin demanded, taking the wallet and riffling through the collection of cards and bills.

  “Fuck off,” was the growled response. He tried to rise but Alex slammed his hand down on the opposite shoulder and gripped. Judging from the wince, tightly.

  “Not a smart thing to piss off an owner,” Alex tsked flatly.

  “You work for Earl Leonard?” Colin asked tonelessly, watching the man’s surprised reaction. Interesting. That means he hadn’t recognized Angel. Not surprising, he thought. Taking in the long legs, curved hips and pink tipped breasts, he probably hadn’t gotten as far as her face. Especially since he seemed more interested in Evan. “Does your boss know you prefer men? I bet that goes against the church teachings. But then…I could be wrong.”