by Laura Kaye
Kenna was so angry at herself for not being able to let it all go.
Afterward, Griffin waited patiently as a stream of people wanted to meet her and congratulate her and swap service stories and compare prosthetics. He stood back, just watching, pride shining out of his eyes and making her feel so loved, so accepted, so good about herself—for once.
Finally, the crowd dispersed, and Kenna thanked the organizers for inviting her.
“You were fantastic, Kenna,” the Director said. “You just nailed the issues veterans are facing and spoke from such a place of experience and authenticity.”
“Thank you,” she said. “There are too many veterans facing tough issues these days and not enough resources. If my speaking out about that helps, it’s the least I can do. And an honor.”
The man nodded. His name was Craig Alverado, and Kenna had met him at several events like this over the past two years, though they hadn’t really spoken enough for her to think of him as more than an acquaintance. And maybe that was why his next words surprised her so much. “If you think you ever want to do more, let me know. We could use someone like you.”
Kenna nearly did a double take. “How so?”
“We have an Assistant Director position open right now in the association. Focus would be on veteran outreach and advocacy. Job description’s on the website. You should take a look.” He handed her his card. “If you decide you’re interested, let me know.”
They said good night, and they all walked out together, Griffin’s hand on the small of her back. And she needed that contact, because she felt like she might float away.
“Did that just happen?” she asked.
“You mean, did you just get a job offer after giving an amazing speech and holding a room full of your peers enthralled? Yeah, that definitely happened, baby.” He leaned against the side of his car and pulled her to stand between his legs. “And I’m so fucking proud of you I could burst.”
Kenna stared at him for a long moment. He looked so incredibly gorgeous in the suit he’d worn that part of her wanted to tear it off of him right then and there. But first she had to find some oxygen again. She leaned her head against his chest and tried to breathe. “Everything’s happening so fast.”
Griffin’s big hands rubbed her back. “No, it’s not. Just feels that way because you’ve been in one place for so long. But now you’re getting stronger, and you’re moving on, and that’s okay, Kenna.” He lifted her chin so that their eyes met. “It’s okay to feel better and to move on.”
She gave a fast nod. “Thank you. I’m glad you were here tonight.”
And she was equally glad to introduce Griffin to her sister the next night. They met at a little Tex-Mex place in Hampden, a quirky neighborhood full of used bookstores, antique shops, and fantastic restaurants.
Her belly gave a little flutter as Kenna led Griffin into the place, but she wasn’t worried. Not really. She knew her sister’s acceptance of her lifestyle was genuine, and that both of them were equally eager to meet the other. They found Sierra waiting at the bar.
“Hey, Si.”
“Kenna!” She hopped off of the stool, and they embraced. “And you must be Griffin,” she said.
“Nice to meet you, Sierra.” His smile was devastating as he held out his hand.
“Nope. I’m a hugger,” Sierra said, making Griffin chuckle as he yielded to her sister.
Then the waitress led them to their table. When Griffin wasn’t looking, Sierra turned to her with a very clear Oh my God! expression on her face. So Kenna wasn’t the only one who’d found that smile devastating. And that ass. And those shoulders...
She chuckled as they took their seats.
The conversation was easy and fun, and the food was great. Sierra and Griffin quickly fell into cahoots against her, threatening to swap embarrassing stories and teasing her relentlessly. But Kenna adored it, actually. She loved how well they were already getting along, like they’d known each other for years.
“Make Kenna tell you about her job offer,” Griffin said, still so proud of her.
“What?” Sierra nearly shouted, her fajita halfway to her mouth. “You got a job?”
“No,” she said, smirking at Griffin, who looked too pleased with himself to much care. “I put in an application somewhere today.”
“Yeah, after the Director specifically invited her to apply and told her he thought she’d be great for it.” He sipped at his margarita and eyeballed her over the rim.
She smirked harder. “But I still have to interview and everything. It’s not a foregone conclusion.” But, God, she wanted it. She really, really wanted it. Despite the fact that it would be a forty-five minute commute. And despite the fact that wanting anything right now still hit her with bouts of anxiety that came out of nowhere.
“Well, I say Griffin’s right. This sounds just about as good as it could sound.” She put down her fajita and raised her glass. “To Kenna and her almost new job.”
“I’ll toast to that,” Griffin said, raising his glass, too.
Finally, Kenna raised hers, and they clinked. The sweet, cold cocktail was delicious. “Fingers, toes, and legs are crossed,” she said.
Griffin’s eyebrow arched way up, and she nearly laughed because she was sure she could hear his internal commentary on that one from across the table.
And then Sierra caught whiff of it and saw Griffin’s expression before he schooled it, and she totally burst out laughing like a lunatic. “I think you should just go with fingers and toes, hon,” she managed around her cackles.
Kenna’s cheeks went hot, even as she couldn’t help but chuckle, too.
Griffin grinned and nodded. “Fingers and toes are much better.”
Later, in the car on the way home, with happiness and two rare cocktails flowing through her, Kenna’s joy made her so damn horny that she couldn’t stop shifting her legs. The second they got in the door of her apartment, she was gonna climb him and ride him until neither of them had bones left in their legs.
“You’re killing me, Kenna,” Griffin said from behind the wheel of the sleek Audi A7.
Her eyes flashed to him. “What?” she asked, though she could hear her arousal in her voice. No doubt he could, too.
“You turned on and it’s driving me insane.” He cut a knowing look her way.
“I can’t help it. You make me want you.”
“Fuck, baby. That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day. Push your pants and panties down and make yourself come. I want to watch. I want to hear you. I want my car to fucking smell like you.”
A thrill shot through her, and she did as he told her. She slid down in her seat and let her knees fall open, and then she touched her pussy, her fingers immediately finding evidence of just how turned on she was.
“Fuck,” he said under his breath. They came to a stop at a light. “Finger yourself for me.” She did, throwing her head back on a moan.
“Christ, Kenna. I don’t know how I’m gonna wait to get in you.” He adjusted the bulge in the front of his jeans.
“Keep touching yourself like that,” she whispered. “Squeeze your cock and think about fucking me while I masturbate for you.” The groan he unleashed added urgency to the sensations spiraling between her legs.
“God, Griffin.”
His gaze flashed between the road and her, his mirrors and her, and the road and her again. He turned off the music so that only her breathing and the wet sounds of her hand’s movements filled the luxury sedan.
And then it was all too much. “May I please come, Sir? May I please come?”
“God, yes, Kenna. Come. And know that I’m gonna be on you the second I park this goddamned car.”
It only took two more strokes of her clit, and then she was coming and arching and gasping. Kenna was barely in her right mind when Griffin grasped her left wrist and brought her hand to his mouth. He sucked her fingers off one by one by one, and she was sure it wouldn’t take much for her to come again.
And
then he parked in the last, back corner spot of the garage beneath her building.
“Get out. Stay on your side. And bend over the fucking hood.” He wrenched out of the driver’s door without waiting for her to answer.
“Holy shit,” she whispered, rushing to get out but careful not to hit his door on the concrete wall. The garage was empty—they hadn’t seen a soul as they’d come in, but that didn’t mean no one would come. And it set her body on fire.
Wearing only her shirt and tall, wedge sandals, Kenna bent over the still-warm hood of the Audi.
“Hands behind your back,” he gritted out. She laid her forearms across her lower back. He was standing so close that the denim of his jeans scraped her ass as he bared his hips.
Griffin penetrated her in one fast movement as his hands grasped her wrist and held her arms immobilized. She screamed out and arched.
“Quiet, Kenna. Don’t make a fucking sound. Just take my cock.” He smacked her ass. “It made me so damn hard watching you get off. I can’t go slow.”
“Don’t,” she moaned. “Give me everything.”
And he did. Holding her tight, her breasts smashed to the smooth metal, he absolutely drilled into her. It was desperate and urgent and so freaking good that she was begging to come.
“No,” he growled. “Wait for me. Wait for me or you won’t like what happens.”
“Sir!” she rasped.
“Wait!” he barked out, taking her harder, bearing his weight down on her. The sounds of their smacking skin echoed through the garage. “Wait.”
“Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.” She wanted to cry, because she was going to fail him. She couldn’t. It was too good.
“Master, please...”
He came on a roar that her whole building might’ve heard, and then she was coming and coming until Griffin and the car were all that held her up. “Fuck, Kenna, when you call me that...”
Shaking off the haze of bliss, Kenna tried to make sense of his comment. And then she realized exactly what she’d said. “I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean—”
Withdrawing, he whipped her around and devoured her with a kiss. “Don’t ever apologize for calling me yours, Kenna. I know we’re not there yet, but it can’t be any secret to you that that’s where my heart is heading.”
His words stole all the air in the room. “Oh,” was all she could say, her brain not able to process just how meaningful that admission was just then.
And he didn’t seem to mind, because he sank to a crouch with his face lined up to her pussy. “I’ll clean you up.”
His mouth fell against her core, and his tongue pushed between her lips. He forced her legs wider, and Kenna nearly screamed when he penetrated her with his tongue. The fact that he didn’t mind that their come was mingled between her legs felt decadent and raunchy and dirty, and it just ratcheted her arousal right back up again. As his mouth feasted on her cunt, his hands wander to her breasts and pinched her nipples, his fingers staying tight like clamps.
And Kenna came violently, shaking and moaning and sliding down the front quarter panel until she was in his lap.
Griffin held her for long, tender minutes, and then he helped her get dressed
And Kenna could only marvel at the fact that she seemed to be getting everything that she ever wanted and so much she never even knew to hope for.
Which meant she really didn’t understand the little, nagging ball of anxiety that lived in the center of her chest. And wouldn’t seem to go away.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Kenna met Griffin at Blasphemy on Thursday night. They’d come to the club separately because he had to work a shift at registration, and she’d had a late-afternoon phone interview with Craig about the Assistant Director position.
And it had gone so damn good that she could barely stand still.
They wanted to bring her in for an all-day interview next week, but Craig had made it sound like that was pro forma, and that the job was all but hers.
Which was one more thing about which to feel excited—and equally anxious.
Between her anticipation about the job, her fear of going to Florida tomorrow to face George’s mom, and how overloaded with emotions she’d been all week, Kenna was one giant bundle of nervous energy. It was good, but it was also overwhelming. And it kept making her feel like she had something to panic about, when really, she didn’t. She knew she didn’t.
At least Master Quinton made waiting for Griffin fun, by telling stories about his new niece peeing on him and marveling about just how bad babies’ poop smelled. “I mean, she looks so damn angelic, and then that smell!”
He had everyone at the bar laughing.
Two men joined them, and by the black cuffs embroidered with a Gothic ‘M’ they both wore, they were Blasphemy Masters, too. The Doms looked familiar to her, but she couldn’t recall their names.
The man with the longish, dark blond hair turned to her first. “Are you Kenna Sloane, by any chance?”
Surprise flooded through her. “Oh, yes, I am, Sir.”
His smile was warm and inviting. “I’m Master Jonathan, and this is Master Cruz.” The other man nodded. With short black hair, dark eyes, and warm brown skin, the two were a delicious study in contrasts.
“Nice to meet you,” she said, shaking their hands, but also feeling a little awkward. Because if they were about to propose a scene—
“We wanted to thank you for your service. And your sacrifice. Master Griffin mentioned you were in the Marines. We both served in the Navy,” Master Jonathan said, gesturing between them.
Relief flooded through her, and then the sense quickly followed that she was among kindred spirits. In so many ways. “Thank you,” she said. “And thanks for your service, too. You Navy boys were always good for a ride.” She winked, preparing herself for them to throw shit right back her way.
Master Cruz smirked. “Know what Marine stands for?”
There it was. Kenna was already laughing, because the Navy and Corps had a long tradition of working together, and rivalry that could border on the hilariously brutal. “What’s that, sailor?”
“My Ass Rides In Naval Equipment.”
“Nah, Cruz. You got that one wrong. It means My Ass Really Is Naval Equipment,” Master Jonathan said.
Kenna made a face even though she couldn’t keep the humor out of her expression. “Yeah, well, at least the Marines—”
“Master Jonathan, why are you talking about your ass to my woman?” came a voice from behind her. Master Griffin.
Jonathan turned with a big grin and shook Griffin’s hand. “Just a little naval humor, Master Griffin. And did you know your submissive is a mouthy little thing?” he asked, but his voice was fully of teasing.
“Is she now?” His brow arched over dark, smiling eyes.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” she said, feigning innocence. “They were lamenting that their military service involved floating around on a toy in a tub, and I was just commiserating.”
“Damn,” Master Quinton said from behind the bar. Kenna was two seconds from busting into giggles.
“Spank her ass for us, would ya?” Master Cruz said, smirking at her. Of the two men, Cruz seemed more serious—and more intense—than Jonathan. But she liked them both right away.
“I’ll take it under consideration,” Master Griffin said.
“Hey!”
He nailed her with a stare. “Do you have something you’d like to say, little one?”
“No, Sir,” she said, glaring at Cruz who just grinned at her.
“Good, then, let’s go. Because I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
***
As they made for the playroom, Kenna couldn’t stop smiling. “You told them about my service, Sir?”
He gave a little shrug. “I’m proud of you.”
She ducked her chin, but she liked it, too.
In the playroom, he ordered her to strip and then into a waiting position on her knees. She shivered in anticipation, be
cause she knew tonight’s rigging was going to be demanding and sexy and exciting. All part of why she sorta felt like her body couldn’t keep all these feelings in.
But she forced herself to focus. On her posture. On the position of her upright palms lying on her spread thighs. On keeping her head down and not being tempted to watch what Master Griffin was preparing. Music filled the room, and she knew that meant they were close to starting.
And then the frayed hem of his black jeans over his bare feet came into her line of sight.
“Look at me.”
She lifted her gaze immediately. He wore only those jeans, and, damn, he was hot. His expression was intense, his eyes full of emotion, and his body just perfection. To her.
“We’re practicing Sunday night’s demonstration position. I want to make sure you’re comfortable with it and that it’s not too taxing before we do it in front of an audience, especially since the demos always run a little longer.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I’m going to tie you up. Flog you until your skin is hot and pink. And make you come you until you’re mindless. Understand?” His voice was like gravel, and the bulge in the front of his jeans told her that he was as turned on as she was.
“Yes, Master Griffin. I’m ready.” She shivered.
“Then let’s begin. I want you to sit on your bottom, back straight, knees bent.”
Moving as quickly and gracefully as she could, Kenna got into position. He never revealed what the position would be or exactly how she would be bound, so there was always a thrill of discovery about his bondage that she loved. She took a deep breath as the twine fell against her skin. First, he wrapped a long length around her breasts, squeezing them and making them sensitive, and then he had her sit forward so that her upper body was against the fronts of her thighs.
Each brush of his fingers aroused her. Each wrap of the rope excited her. Each pressing knot pushed her into that place she loved to be.
Next, Master Griffin worked loop after loop around her lower back and the backs of her thighs, holding her in a folded position. His hands moved in what felt like intricate patterns against her spine as he connected those ropes to the ones around her breasts in what felt like some sort of erotic harness.
