Master of Hearts: A Domination And Submission Romance Anthology

by Erika Masten

  "Get your fucking hands off her, dude," said a voice from behind us.

  I turned my head, drawn to the low, sinister sound. If I'd been Andy, I'd have dropped my hands instantly—it was the sort of voice you obeyed.

  It also seemed to be a voice I knew. But when I turned to look into the face of the man who had crowded up against Andy and me, I didn't know him. Or...wait. I had seen him. He was the man who had been playing pool with Cranmore. The rough, tough, townie-looking guy.

  Andy, who was by no means a physical coward, kept his arms around me as he looked at the guy. "She's my girlfriend. We're just having a little disagreement."

  "She told you to let her go."

  If Andy didn't hear the menace in those simple words, he was very drunk indeed.

  I used the opportunity to twist away. "Thanks," I said to the tough dude. His brilliant blue eyes were fringed in thick dark lashes. Even narrowed to aggressive slits, those eyes were beautiful. Unlike every other guy in the bar, he was gazing at my face, not my boobs,.

  "It's not a disagreement." I directed the rest to Andy: "It's goodbye. And give me that." I snatched my top from Andy's hand, shook it out, and pulled it over my head, no longer caring that it was still wet. As I covered myself a chorus of boos went up from the males who'd been ogling my breasts. Several of them shouted that I should take it off, take it all off.

  "Fine!" Andy said. He looked around, noticed that by now we had an enthusiastic audience, and underwent an unpleasant transformation. I'd only seen it once before, when he'd gotten angry about some trivial matter. A sneer came over his otherwise handsome features.

  "Do you think I care? You won't be missed. Frigid bitch! If you could tongue dick even a tenth as well as that guy, I wouldn't have been tempted."

  Several people chortled. I tried to think up a good comeback, but for the first time in this whole thing, the mortification I was feeling had swollen beyond my ability to cope with it. I had no retort ready, and I knew I wasn't going to be able to think of one.

  Andy stalked away from me. Heading for the exit, he slammed out of the bar.

  I knew my face was crimson, and an unpleasant sort of heat prickled me all over. Just in case things weren't embarrassing enough, I noticed that Alec Cranmore was still nearby. No way he was going to hire me now that I'd made such a spectacle of myself.

  I wanted to make as dignified an exit as possible when I remembered that I didn't have a car. I'd come with Andy. Was I stuck here?

  Like some kind of mind reader, Blue-eyed guy said, "Was he your ride? Can I call someone for you?"

  Gratefully, I turned back to him. "Could you get me a taxi?"

  "Let's find out." He reached for my hand and took it in his. His touch was impersonal, but calming. "Come with me."

  I had taken a few steps beside him when I realized that since Andy had never returned to our table, he hadn't paid our tab. "Wait. He just ditched, so I have to pay." I reached for my purse, only to discover that it was no longer hanging from my shoulder.

  Dropping his hand, I patted myself, trying to remember if I had scrunched it up and jammed it into a pocket. It wasn't a large purse. But no, I didn't have it.

  My stomach sank even lower. No matter how bad things seem, they can always get worse.

  "What's the matter?" asked Blue, who must have seen my frantic expression and my hands moving futilely all over my own body. "Lost something?"

  "My purse. I must have left it in the ladies room."

  "Let's go find it, then," he said, taking charge in a manner that would have annoyed me at any other time, but was welcome now. He gave me a friendly nod, as if accompanying a girl who'd just been accused of being a frigid bitch to the john was the most normal thing in the world. His hand now rested lightly on the back of my shoulder, the second place he had touched me. He didn't move it, or caress me, so I didn't shrug it off. It felt good—a sympathetic touch—and I was grateful.

  He waited outside while I checked the stall I'd been in. No purse. Of course. What else had I expected?

  I searched the rest of the place anyway—the stalls I hadn't used, the sink and mirror area, the floor, even the trash can. I asked the two girls who were primping in front of the mirror. No purse. No one had seen anything, no one knew anything. Maybe some good Samaritan had turned it in to the bartender?

  But I knew this wasn't going to happen. I'd had cash in there—more than usual because of the trip. My license and college ID. A couple of credit cards. My apartment and car keys. And my phone.

  "It's not in there," I said to Blue, who was waiting for me outside. I tried to keep my voice from shaking as I added, "Someone must have taken it."

  His eyes flickered, looking more black than blue in the dim light. "Then we'll get it back."

  "Right," I said, pretty sure that was not going to happen. I won't cry, dammit. That would be weak and stupid.

  He took my hand again and tugged me toward the front of the bar. He hauled me right through into the behind-the-bar-counter area as if he owned the place. "Archie!" he bellowed. The bartender glanced over at us. He nodded while he finished drawing a brew for a customer. "'S up?"

  Archie MacDougal, the proprietor of the College Tavern, had taken over the place about a year ago. Since Archie was only about thirty, single, and a sweet sight to behold, with broad shoulders and a ruggedly handsome face, his welcome had been enthusiastic.

  As I looked between Archie and Blue, I noticed that their faces shared a similar bone structure. Their builds were similar, too—both were tall, broad-shouldered men. Archie had blue eyes, if not quite so vividly blue. Were they brothers?

  "This lady just had her purse snatched from the bathroom. I don't suppose it's been turned in?"

  Archie shook his head. "Nope. Only noticed one guy leaving, couple minutes ago. He take it?"

  "That was my ex-boyfriend. Wasn't him. There were a bunch of girls in the bathroom after I left, though."

  "They still here?" asked Archie.

  I looked around the bar, but I wasn't sure. I shook my head, feeling helpless. I'd been so emotionally charged after catching Andy getting a blowjob from a guy that I couldn't picture any of the chicks in the ladies' room.

  "Let's nail 'em," said Blue to Archie. There was a vicious note of excitement in his voice. "I'll get the back door, you make the announcement."

  What I witnessed next was so smoothly coordinated that they must have done it before. "Stay here," Blue ordered. He melted into the crowd. Archie beckoned to one of his servers, and whispered something in her ear. She went to the front door and closed it. When Blue reappeared, he stood beside me, one of his arms going around my shoulders in a comradely manner. He leaned his head down and said, "Tell me your name."

  "Jo. Jo Whitney."

  The strangest look came over him then. Blue looked shocked, disbelieving, and amused all in the span of about two seconds. His glance darted down to my wet blouse, which was once again sticking to the flesh underneath. I saw a muscle move in his throat before his features rearranged themselves in his usual unsmiling cast. He repeated my name to Archie, who started banging on a beer glass with a spoon.

  It took a while to get everybody's attention. Blue had to shut down the music. But when he raised it, Archie's voice carried to all corners of the tavern. "We got a lady here who's missing her purse. Ms. Jo Whitney. Seems someone accidentally picked it up in the john. So have a look around, folks. You might see it lying on a table. Or under a chair. You can bring it on up to the bar here, or turn it in to your server."

  There was a lot of murmuring and some scraping sounds as people moved chairs to look, but no one produced my purse.

  "They're not going to turn it in," I whispered to Blue.

  "Yes they are. Wait."

  Archie gave it a couple of minutes. When nothing developed, he climbed up on the end of the bar near the cash register. The Tavern was an old building with high ceilings, so he could do this without hitting his head. He was an arresting sight, and
he had the attention of all the females in the place.

  "I hate to disturb you all, but I've promised the lady that we'd return her missing purse. All the stuff inside it, too. So have another look around. No harm, no foul for anyone who finds it."

  Still nothing. A few people moved uneasily toward the exits. Archie added, "Just in case you're wondering, all the doors have been locked. Ain't nobody leaving until this problem is cleared up."

  The bar went silent. There were whispers and shuffles and more movement of chairs before someone said, "Hey, you can't do that, Archie."

  Another guy yelled, "Yeah, that's against the law."

  "You can't hold us prisoner here 'cause some girl lost her purse."

  "He can hold us prisoner if he gives us all free beer," some joker suggested.

  "Yeah, hell, for that I'll stay here all night!"

  "Maybe it's against the law," said Archie in a genial voice. "So maybe I'll call my cousin Brandon and ask him. You all know that Bran's a cop in this town, right? I'll have him come right over and check IDs to make sure everybody here's legal."

  The silence was total now. The Tavern was famous for catering to the older members of the college crowd, but I'd have been willing to bet that a good number of tonight's patrons were drinking courtesy of their fake IDs.

  Archie made a gesture and Blue leapt up on the bar, too. He did it with amazing athletic grace—one smooth movement and he was up there. I stared up at him, blown away. He was maybe an inch taller than Archie, and lighter by a few pounds. All dressed in black, he no longer looked scruffy to me. Rather, he looked lethal, menacing, and heart-stoppingly hot.

  Andy? Who cared about Andy? I was transfixed by Blue. He reached down, and I realized he was inviting me to jump up there beside him. Did I dare? Dammit, why the hell not? Taking his hand, I allowed him to haul me up. He did it easily.

  I clung to his fingers, feeling elated. My former misery had dissipated. Crazy though it was, despite everything that had happened, it was thrilling to be standing next to Mr. Tough Guy Townie, who was turning out to be my fucking white knight.

  "This here's my cousin Connor," Archie was saying. "You might not know him—he's kinda the quiet type. He recently got back from Afghanistan, where he was on this special team that used to interrogate dudes suspected of being terrorists. Right, bro?"

  Blue—Connor—gave an almost imperceptible nod. He eyed the crowd, allowing his cold gaze to wander slowly over them. I was glad I wasn't on the receiving end of that stare.

  "What did they call you over there?" Archie asked.

  "They called me The Claw." His voice was even icier than his gaze. But it left me needing to fan myself.

  "And what did The Claw do, exactly?"

  Connor glanced briefly at Archie, then back to the nervous crowd. He didn't actually answer the question. Rather he looked from one table to the next and let the drinkers use their imaginations.

  Archie gave the crowd a significant look. He was a born bullshitter, and he had everyone hanging on his next words. "You all can go back to your drinking now. But keep an eye out for that purse. And don't mind my cousin when he stops by each table to ask a couple questions."

  Connor jumped down and began strolling around the room, looking sinister as hell. I stayed up on the counter, arms folded over my wet shirt, trying to look sinister, too.

  Archie turned the music back on, but the doors stayed locked.

  It took a little less than ten minutes. A couple of people came up to the bar to protest, including one guy who said his girlfriend was having a panic attack. Archie dealt genially with the couple and asked them to be patient for a few more minutes. He had a pleasant way about him. They calmed down.

  Alec Cranmore wandered over. "You seem to be the main event this evening, Ms. Whitney," he said to me. "Do you always cause this kind of commotion?"

  Oh God. I'd forgotten about him. Alec Cranmore, billionaire and ex-potential boss, was a prisoner here in the Tavern because someone had snatched my purse. "I'm usually more discreet, sir," I said, holding my head high. I doubted he'd believe it, but I was damned if I was going to let my chagrin show. There were other jobs, other bosses. Maybe it wasn't too late to apply to grad school.

  When Connor returned to the front of the tavern, he was grinning. I was surprised at how much the smile changed his countenance. He laid my small brown leather purse on the bar in front of me. "This it?"

  It was. "Oh, wow, thank you! You're a miracle worker!"

  I jerked it open. My IDs, credit cards, keys, and even my cash were there. So was my phone. Impulsively, I hugged him and Archie too. Archie went to the front door and unlocked it. "Where was it?"

  "Some girl told me she thought she might have seen it on the floor of the ladies room. I checked, and surprise, there it was."

  "She must have taken it back inside and dropped it."

  He nodded. "She and her friends all looked guilty. I let it go."

  "Thanks so much. Now I can pay the check. And get a taxi home."

  "Damn, and I was all set to make you stay here and wash dishes for me," Archie said, grinning.

  Blue smiled at me, too. "Not too many taxis likely to be available at this hour. May I offer you a ride, Ms. Jo Whitney?"

  I felt a leap of excitement. "Thank you. But you've done so much to help me already. I wouldn't want to put you to any more trouble."

  "No trouble at all." His smile hardened slightly. "I think you owe me the chance to get to know you a little better."

  That could have been a warning. Maybe it was. And I could have said no. But seriously, what more could go wrong tonight?

  "That would be awesome. Thanks."

  Chapter Three

  Five minutes later, I felt relieved to be exiting the bar where I had spent the most humiliating half hour of my entire life. At my side was a tallish man in a black leather jacket, black t-shirt, tight jeans and work boots. I could tell from the way his clothes fit him that he was built. This was a man who worked out with something a lot heavier than a pool cue.

  He was not the sort of guy I usually went around with. As a college senior in a town that played host to one elite college and its equally expensive and exclusive sister university less than five miles away, I dated college boys when I dated at all. Blue, or rather, Connor, was a townie. I'd known some girls who hooked up with townies, but I'd never done it myself.

  The thought of doing so was way more exciting than I'd expected it to be. But it was scary too, and I wasn't sure if I was more scared or more excited.

  Anyway, no reason to think there was going to be any kind of hookup. Despite his tough and edgy look, Blue had helped me. He'd rescued me from Andy when the boy had unexpectedly gotten clingy. He'd intimidated those purse-snatchers into giving up their prize. Now he'd offered me a ride home in a town where taxis were scarce. There probably wasn't any more to it than that. Right?

  He led me around to the back of the bar. There was a small parking lot there for employees of the Tavern. The car he led me to was nondescript—some sort of SUV. We approached it from the passenger's side, and he unlocked the door for me. I climbed in. Since we'd left the bar, neither of us had uttered a word.

  When he closed the door and the interior light switched off, I felt a wave of apprehension. It was so dark, both in the car and outside it. I didn't know this guy. He'd been nice to me so far, but could I trust him to get me safely home? I was fiddling with my seatbelt as he climbed in the other side. During the brief moment when the light was on again I noticed that his face was handsome, but angular—those cheekbones cutting like blades, and his mouth set in an unsmiling line.

  "This really isn't necessary. I mean, I appreciate your offer, but I could call a friend from school to come pick me up."

  He glanced at me, giving me that hot blue gaze again. Okay, it was too dark to see more than a rim of blue because his pupils were dilated in the dark. But there was something about the way he looked at me—into me—that pushed buttons I
didn't even know I had. His fingers inserted the car key and twisted, and I imagined those fingers on my flesh, turning, twisting, rotating, probing. I was thankful that he probably couldn't see the color coming up in my cheeks.

  "Which college?" was all he said.

  "Whittacre."

  He gave a single nod. "You live on campus?"

  "Off. I have an apartment with two roommates. They've both left, though. Spring break."

  "So who were you gonna call for a ride?"

  Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned that my roommates were away. "I have other friends in town." My heartbeat felt fluttery. I should have called Hannah and Willow to come back and pick me up. I still could. I could make some excuse and jump out of the car.

  As I sat there, indecisive, we began to roll. He backed out of the parking place. The soft amber lights of the dash brought a little glow into the car.

  "Your school is on break?"

  "Yes. A lot of people have already left. I was planning to leave myself. With Andy. My just-turned ex."

  "You were going away with that jerk?"

  "I didn't know he was that much of a jerk."

  He made a noise as if to say, how could you not have known? I was wondering the same thing. How had I ever gotten in deep enough with Andy to agree to go on vacation with him? How had we gone from seeing each other casually to "let's spend spring break golfing with my parents?" I'd only met him a couple months ago.

  "Address?" Blue asked.

  I gave it to him. He nodded and pulled out onto the road, turning in the direction that would lead back toward my place. It would be, I estimated, about a fifteen-minute drive. There were no other cars in sight.

  "So, you're Archie's cousin?" I ventured, after a few seconds of silence.

  He nodded. "I am."

  In the dark, there was something familiar about his voice. I'd thought that before, when he'd first spoken in the bar. His voice sent shivers through me, but I wasn't sure why. "Are you also a MacDougal?"