Beneath the Scars

by Cherise Sinclair

  Jake took a sip of his drink. “It was impressive. The Mistress doesn’t share easily.”

  “Josie’s amazing. People trust her.” Holt watched as Josie and Rainie climbed the deck steps. Bronx chose a corner to wait for Ben. Rhage, however, bounded across the deck, leaped, and landed in Jake’s lap. Obviously used to the maneuver, Jake had his drink out of the way and laughed as the fluffy black-and-white mutt frantically licked his neck, acting as if they’d been parted for years.

  Smoothing down her blue sundress, Rainie settled beside Jake on the love seat. The Shadowlands submissive had colorful flower tats, brown hair streaked with red and blonde, and an equally lively personality.

  She sure as hell had enlivened Jake’s life—and Holt thoroughly approved of her for his friend.

  Now, he had his own submissive to capture and win.

  Looking undecided, Josie stood in the center of the deck. He could see her desire to be with him…and her unease.

  “Come here, Josie,” he said softly. When she got close enough, he took her hand—and pulled her firmly into his lap.

  “Hey. There are other chairs.”

  “I like having you here.” He molded her against him, loving the way she fit. She wasn’t tall and slender like Nadia. Wasn’t short and round either. Josie was what his father would have called sturdy Irish stock. Resilient in both body and personality.

  After brushing the wind-whipped hair out of her eyes, he took himself a kiss, enjoying the quiver of her response.

  “What was that for?” She blinked at him, her eyes a gorgeous green in the sunlight.

  “Dom’s privilege,” he told her.

  She gave him a wary look. “This isn’t a scene. Sir.”

  “Very true.” He wrapped an arm around her waist, securing her nicely. “But you should know, for a lot of us, dominance isn’t something to turn on and off.”

  “Does that mean you try to boss your fire chief around?”

  “No.” He smiled. “But in the absence of someone officially in charge, I’ll take the reins. And when around a submissive”—he ran his finger over her full lower lip—“the need to take charge is difficult to shut off.”

  She scowled at him.

  Fucking cute.

  “This submissive stuff…I’m a mother, and I give orders all the time. I don’t think I’m all that submissive.”

  Oh, baby, yes, you are. Last night, she’d known and accepted her nature. Today, she was over-thinking it all. “Parents are in a whole separate category. When you work with other bartenders, do you give orders like you do with Carson or do you let someone else take the lead?”

  Silence was his answer.

  He took a moment to nibble on her neck and breathe in the musky smell of woman with the lingering fragrance of her soap.

  She was slowly melting against him.

  “As you probably noticed, I enjoy telling people what to do,” Holt murmured. “More than that, I like looking after people, making sure things are done right, and everyone is protected.”

  “You and Jake.” Rainie rolled her eyes at Josie. “I swear, dominants can’t handle when a submissive is in danger or hurt. Whoa, mama, they go cray-cray.”

  “What do you mean?” Josie frowned at Jake’s submissive.

  “Like when Zuri’s crazy stalker grabbed me, Jake went all over-protective on my ass.”

  “Damn straight,” Jake muttered.

  “He kept asking how I felt and…” Rainie looked at Holt. “After your surgery, when you were staying at our place, Jake said he was glad you were there, not just for your recovery, but for mine, too.”

  “Your recovery?” Josie leaned over and grasped Rainie’s hand. “Did you get hurt by that man?”

  “Not physically.” Rainie wrinkled her nose. “I was just having nightmares.”

  “And she refused to go to a counselor.” Jake scowled.

  Holt had known about her refusing to get help. Women could sure be fucking stubborn.

  Rainie told Josie, “Mr. Paramedic-Nurse there made me work through everything—even though I didn’t want to talk about being kidnapped or scared or anything. He ignored me being rude and just…persisted.”

  Josie gave Rainie a worried look. “Did your nightmares go away?”

  “They did, thanks to Holt.” Rainie smiled at him. “In case I didn’t say thank you—thank you.”

  Jake gave him a nod that said the same thing.

  “Seems like I got board and room and care,” Holt said lightly. “I think we’re even.”

  On Holt’s lap, Josie turned and curled an arm around his neck…and relaxed completely.

  Rainie glanced over, and her lips curved in a pleased smile. She’d known how her story would affect a nervous submissive, hadn’t she? Had realized Josie needed the extra assurance he was trustworthy.

  Josie was frowning again, her gaze on his face.

  “What, pet?”

  “It bothers me…how close you must have come to getting killed.” Her voice was a tiny thin sound. “Did you get help, too? Do you have nightmares?”

  The depth of her concern shook him. Pleased him. “A few nightmares, at first.” He stared off at the dark blue Gulf and sighed. “For a while, every time I walked back into the duplex, I had a flashback.”

  She stared at him, her beautiful green eyes appalled. “Then why ever did you stay there? Are you insane?”

  Holt glanced at Jake. “I think I’ve just been called crazy by two women within five minutes. That’s a record.”

  Josie’s eyes narrowed.

  He was looking forward to seeing that passion in his bed. “I like the duplex, and I wasn’t going to let the bastard drive me out. It took a while, but the flashbacks are gone.”

  “You’re even more stubborn than I realized,” she said under her breath.

  “Yes, I am.” He smiled slowly. “Keep that in mind, pet.”

  * * * * *

  In her bedroom, Anne woke to the sound of laughter. Groggily, she yawned. Good, their friends were still here at the barbecue. She could go down and join them…and her Ben.

  The crazy man had thrown the party to keep her from fretting about when the baby would get around to arriving.

  He’d been right. A party was a hell of a diversion. It was amazing how much energy she’d had while cleaning the house and preparing side dishes. Then, during the barbecue, Cullen and Holt had been full of fire and arson tales, Rainie and Jake with puppy stories from the clinic. Anne hadn’t had a chance to stew about labor.

  Later, she’d taken the opportunity to talk with Josie. Alone.

  Anne grinned. On the way upstairs, Ben had accused her of planning to interrogate the poor girl to see if she was good enough for Holt.

  Her tiger knew her so well. That’d been the plan.

  Only, somehow, the discussion had rolled around to pregnancy. And how disconcerting it was to have her athletic body distorted and weakened. To need help for the stupidest things—like putting on shoes. To have back pains and need to pee all the damn time and… Anne shook her head. Rather than an interrogation, she’d ended up confiding in the submissive. And she found out what she needed to know. Holt’s submissive not only had a solid core of practicality and kindness but also listened with her whole heart. Josie would do well for him.

  Yes, it’d been a great barbecue, Ben.

  Perhaps a bit uncomfortable. Despite the interesting conversations, she’d had to shift positions constantly to relieve the pressure on her back and ease the annoying Braxton Hicks contractions. And it sucked to need a nap like a damn toddler…and to have Ben escort her upstairs, no less.

  Son-of-a-bitching, over-protective subbie.

  Damn, she loved him.

  Rolling over on her back, she stretched. Air ruffled the curtains at the open window, bringing in the heartening scent of ocean and sand. Nothing in the world smelled as fresh. Voices drifted up from the deck. Time to rise and shine, even if the rising part was like juggling a massive watermelo
n.

  I want my body back. There wasn’t any position that was comfortable, and her back always hurt.

  “Not that you haven’t been wonderful company,” she murmured and patted her stomach. He or she was quiet today—not trying to roundhouse-kick her bladder every few minutes. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who’d needed a nap.

  Bet those damn Braxton Hicks had livened up the kid’s naptime. She let out a grunt of annoyance as her belly tightened. “Still? Seriously?” She’d hoped the contractions would disappear during her nap. Sometimes they did. Not today, apparently.

  A shame the “false labor pains” weren’t the real thing. She gave a snort of laughter. Positive that Anne was having the baby, Ben’d called the obstetrician three times this week. Each time, the doc had patiently explained that if the contractions were erratic and didn’t really hurt that Anne wasn’t in labor.

  Of course, as a sadist, Anne knew “really hurt” was a subjective term. No one in their right mind would say that those squeezing sensations felt good.

  As she walked—waddled, dammit—to the bathroom, she passed the hospital bag beside the dresser and sighed. Soon.

  After using the toilet, she started to stand and felt an odd popping sensation. A gush of fluid spilled into the toilet bowl. What the fuck? Had her bladder lost control completely?

  A huge, painful contraction gripped her insides.

  Dropping back on the toilet seat, she curled over her belly. Oh. God. That one had hurt.

  And, hello, that fluid hadn’t been her bladder—her water had broken. If her water had broken, then…it was time to have a baby. Heart picking up speed, she swallowed hard.

  Oh, fuck, am I ready for this?

  After a moment, she shook her head. Not like she had a choice. And wasn’t it clever of her to have her water break right there on the toilet?

  She cleaned herself, yanked her loose pants up, washed her hands—and bent in half with the next contraction.

  Holy fuck, weren’t the damn things supposed to work up gradually to hurting like this? Kari and Jessica had said they’d puttered around and watched movies and spent hours before even breaking a sweat.

  Anne wiped her forehead and set her jaw. Damned if she’d be more of a crybaby than the submissives. She’d served as a Marine, a police officer. She was a Domme. Pain didn’t slow her down.

  The next contraction caught her on the way to the bed—and sent her to her knees.

  * * * * *

  Inside the house in Anne and Ben’s living room, Josie crouched to pet their orange tabby. All length and legs, the teenaged kitten reminded her of Carson.

  With a long, annoyed meow, the cat expressed his displeasure at being shut in the house during the party.

  “Aw, poor baby.” Josie picked up the young cat and cradled him in her arms, smiling as his meows turned into purring.

  The barbecue was over, and Cullen and Andrea had left. Near the kitchen, Jake was laughing as Rainie tried to talk Holt into adopting a puppy.

  Josie grinned. Rainie was such a wonderful mixture of humor and kindness, and her Dom obviously adored her.

  Everyone here was friends with Holt, and she’d been watched and weighed as they evaluated whether she was good enough for him. She, honestly, wasn’t sure of the answer herself. Sure, she was a fine person. Really. But she might not be all that perfect a girlfriend, let alone a submissive.

  She…didn’t see a good ending to her and Holt starting a relationship.

  Carson needed a stable home. And face it, even a wonderful guy like Holt would have second thoughts about taking on a single mother with a grumpy, almost teenaged boy. Holt could break Carson’s heart.

  Giving Holt up would break hers.

  Last night…last night, she’d felt like someone had taken all her fantasies and dreams and longings, stirred them together, and poured them out into an evening made just for her. Gaining her trust, Holt had swept her along, teasing and ordering and…taking her further than she’d ever dreamed of going. Making her come harder than she’d ever thought a person could.

  Making her want…more. Want him. And now she felt almost incomplete when he wasn’t beside her.

  Oh, this was so wrong.

  She rubbed her cheek against the purring cat and wished her heart didn’t feel as if it were fracturing.

  This morning, she’d known she should pull away before she got more involved with him. Before Carson got used to seeing him around.

  But when he’d appeared at her door and she’d tried to back out of this barbecue, he’d smiled and tucked her into the car. And now, when she tried to keep her distance, she ended up on his lap.

  Her father had been all thunder and noise when he demanded his way. Holt was like…like the ocean, infinitely powerful, calmly wearing away the beach, the cliffs, vanquishing obstacles without fuss.

  Holt glanced over at her, as he did so often. His gaze ran over her, and his eyes darkened slightly as if he could hear her worried thoughts.

  “Josie, I see Coltrane has you under his paw.” Ben grinned. “He may never let you leave.”

  She laughed. “Even a Dom kitty has to give in to necessity. My son is due home soon, and his homework won’t get done without a nudge.”

  “My mother did the same thing.” Ben’s smile faded. “I’m not sure my sisters and I would have survived without her. Your boy is lucky to have you.”

  That was so nice to hear. “Thank you. And thank you for having me over to the barbecue.” She glanced at the stairs. Bronx sat on the bottom step, a worried look on his furry retriever face. He adored his mistress. “May I run upstairs and tell Anne goodbye? I won’t wake her if she’s asleep.”

  “Sure. I was going to sneak up and check on her, even though she’s threatened to flog me when I hover too much.” He grinned. “You have a better excuse.”

  Josie patted his arm and handed him Coltrane. “Anne’s lucky to have you, and your child will be, too.”

  Somehow, she couldn’t see Ben disowning a daughter if she was with child. And he’d already shown how he’d react if his lover turned up pregnant.

  With a smothered sigh, Josie headed up the stairs. Anne was a lucky woman. Josie’d had no barbecues thrown to keep her happy. No protective boyfriend. She’d “celebrated” her seventeenth birthday in a homeless shelter.

  At the top of the stairs, she heard an odd sound. Was Anne on the phone? No, that was a groan.

  Josie ran the last few steps. The door was open.

  Kneeling on the floor, Anne was bent over, hands clutching her stomach. A sound emerged—a low, teeth-clenched moan of pain.

  “Oh no, this isn’t good. Hold on a second, Anne.” Josie ran to the head of the stairs and yelled, “Ben. Holt. Get up here!”

  When Josie dropped down beside her, Anne whispered, “Good subbie. I tried to ye—ooooooh.”

  Josie’s eyes widened. Those contractions shouldn’t be so close together.

  Pounding on the stairs announced Ben’s arrival—and Holt’s.

  “Jesus fuck, woman.” Ben scooped Anne off the floor.

  “Hold her for a moment, Ben.” Holt grabbed towels from the bathroom closet and spread them over the bed several layers thick.

  Anne groaned again as Ben laid her on the mattress.

  “Another pain? Already?” Holt’s expression changed, holding worry. “You weren’t in labor when you came up for a nap.”

  She gasped for air. “I had contractions earlier.” Breath. “Wasn’t anything.” Breath. “Didn’t hurt.” Breath. “This is insane. Owwwww, fucking hell.”

  “Close the door, Josie, to keep the pets out. Ben, take Anne’s pants off and do you have gloves in here? Let’s see if there’s time to get to the hospital.” Holt disappeared into the bathroom to wash his hands.

  Door closed, Josie picked up a clean beach towel and draped it over Anne’s bared legs and groin, getting a look of approval from Ben.

  “There’s lots of light in here, at least.” Cleaned up, Ho
lt walked over to the bed, bent Anne’s legs up, and moved the towel. His jaw hardened. “Ooookay, then. Ben, call 911 and tell them precipitous labor.”

  “What?” Ben said. “She needs to get to—”

  “She’s having the baby now, bro.” Holt patted Anne’s leg and met her eyes. “You’re almost fully dilated, sweetheart. Labor pains this fast are hell; however, the good news is you’re having the baby really, really soon. This won’t last long.”

  “Oh. Good.” Anne gasped…and curled up again with a whine of, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  “Josie, please get my first aid kit out of the car. It’s in the cargo space.” Holt gave her a reassuring smile and tossed over the keys. “Tell Jake and Rainie to direct the first-responders.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  As she ran out of the room, she heard Anne’s grunted approval. “Well trained.”

  After telling Jake and Rainie what was happening, Josie grabbed the bag from the car, dashed up the stairs and into the room.

  Nothing had gotten better. Anne’s face was a dark red, and her hands were fisted as she screamed through gritted teeth. God. Josie’d thought her own hours of lonely labor were bad. This was horribly worse. Anne hardly had a chance to breathe between the long contractions.

  Josie unzipped the bag and set it close to Holt. He dug inside.

  Sweat poured down Anne’s face, and her eyes were glazed as she got lost in the pain.

  “Do we need to boil water or something?” Ben asked frantically. Holding Anne’s hand, he wiped her face with a cool towel. “I don’t—”

  “No worries, Ben,” Holt said. “The ambulance crew will have sterile equipment and can cut the cord. It’s better to let the cord go uncut for bit anyway.”

  Gloves on, Holt checked Anne again. “You’re there, Anne. Fully dilated.”

  “Fucking go me.” Anne groaned again.

  “Josie,” Holt said quietly. “Can you sit behind her and give her some back support?”

  “Got it.” Josie toed off her flip-flops, crawled onto the bed, and braced Anne from the back. “Lean against me. I’ve got you.”

  At the foot of the bed, Holt waited for the next contraction. “Hang in there, Anne. You’re almost done.” He patted her leg, radiating confidence and competence.