He nodded. “It’s not an inconvenience at all.” He dug into the back pocket of his jeans, retrieving a couple of twenties out of it. Then he handed it to her. “Here, use this. I don’t want you using your debit card. If your stalker found you the first time that way, he’s going to be watching the transactions, and then he’ll be able to track you down to my place.”
She opened her mouth to protest but stopped herself. He was right. Her debit card probably was tagged, but she still didn’t feel comfortable taking his money to pay for her daughter’s needs. She was supposed to be taking care of Sophia. And that did not include accepting handouts from any man. “I have money…
“You can pay me back when it’s over, Zhenya. Please?” He smiled, the curving of his lips changing his whole face, making him look friendly despite his huge size. “I know what it is to have to some pride - well I’ve been accused of having more than my fair share of it, but I’d feel better if you didn’t use your card.”
She slowly took the folded money from him. “Thanks, you’ll get every dime of it back, I promise. I may not have a lot of money but I always pay my debts...” Hooking her purse over her shoulder, she started to slide out of the van.
“I don’t doubt for a moment you will.” He smiled. “Now go, so we can get home. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
Before she shut the door, she promised she’d grab some chicken or something. “I’ll be right back. Her binky is pinned to her jacket if she starts fussing. Just push it in her mouth and it’ll quiet her down.”
* * * *
After their quick stop at the store, where she’d picked up not only diapers and her tampons, but also a couple of the rotisserie chickens because the smell was driving her nuts - reminding her she hadn’t eaten since this morning, they finally arrived at his home. She stared up the large two-level home. It was painted a pretty shade of cream, with its burgundy trim providing a strong contrast. It even had flower boxes around the bay window. It definitely wasn’t what she was expecting her bodyguard to occupy.
“It’s….” She held the baby carrier.
He chuckled. “…not what you were expecting.” Unlocking the door, he deactivated the alarm. “I shared this place with my former master and his wife. When they died, they left it to me. It has some really good memories.” He urged her inside. “I was lucky to have them.”
She stared at him in surprise. If someone had asked her, she’d never have guessed Hark to be a submissive. He was freakin’ huge, and moved with a manner that just screamed alpha male to her. How could he be a submissive?
He noticed her silence and sighed. “Is it going to be a problem that I’m bi-sexual, Zhenya?”
She started. “What? Why would your sexual orientation matter to me?”
“Well, it does to some.” He shrugged his huge shoulders. “I’ve been spit on, jumped and even had the hell beat out of me by so-called friends because of it.”
“Then they weren’t your true friends. I could care less about who you sleep with. It’s a personal choice and as long as it’s consensual, then it’s nobody’s damned business but your own.” She knew her tone was vehement when he held both hands in supplication. She relaxed, setting Sophia in her carrier on the couch. “I’m sorry….I didn’t mean to seem preachy. It’s my own personal soap box.” She placed her hands on her hips. “Feel free to knock me off of it next time.”
He chuckled. “You’re something else, Ms. Zhenya.”
“So I’ve been told.” She smiled. “If I seemed surprised earlier, it was your mention of a Master, and it has nothing to do with your sexual orientation. Believe me when I say I honestly don’t care who you sleep with.”
He visibly relaxed. “That’s good to know but why would my having a Master seem odd? I know Nisey and Caelan had to have told you I was in the lifestyle. I’ve been a member of Olivia’s since it opened back in the late nineties. Not that I’ve been active in recent years. Not since Teresina gave birth to Master’s son, Alex. We were too busy raising him to go to the club.”
“I just wouldn’t have pegged you as a submissive, I guess.”
He grinned. “I wouldn’t classify myself a true submissive. To the right man, I’m submissive. To the right man or woman, I’m a Dominant.”
“A true switch then.”
“Yes, now I need to go fetch the rest of your things, if we’re done discussing my sexuality and preferences?”
An embarrassed flush stained her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
He squeezed her shoulder. “Nonsense. I brought you into my home, I figure it allows you a few questions. I wasn’t expecting these, but I was the one who opened the door about my true nature when I mentioned George as my Master instead of by name.” He let go of her. “Now if you want to take Sophia upstairs to the second room on the right, I think you’ll find it nicely equipped for your needs. I dug Alex’s old crib out when Caelan called asking if you could stay here. I’ll be back shortly with your things.”
She nodded, relief washing over her. “Thank you.” Lifting Sophia out of the carrier, she climbed the steps and found the room he’d directed her to. Decorated with puffy white clouds in a blue sky above a beautiful landscape scene, the room obviously belonged once upon a time to a small child. Laying down her daughter on the exquisite crib built out of a cherry stained oak, she tucked her under the lamb print blanket. Sophia stirred slightly but when she set the binky in her mouth, her daughter sucked a few times before drifting back off to sleep. Once she was certain Sophia was again slumbering peacefully, she wandered around the room taking in the details of the mural painted on the walls. The grassy meadow, which should’ve been childish was instead as if she was staring out across a vista in the southwest. The red hues of the plateau’s rocks were broken up with cactus and other shrubs and the skyline was decorated with hawks. She was examining what looked like a mountain lion lying in the sun when Hark found her.
“Supper will be ready shortly.” He peeked in on Sophia, tucking the blanket back around her legs before joining her in front of the wall. “It reminds me of home, and I wanted Alex to have the same view I had as a child.”
She glanced up at him. “You painted it?”
“Guilty as charged. It’s not something I take very seriously, but George insisted I paint it when I mentioned hiring a local artist to come in and do it. And of course what Master says goes, so…”
“…you painted it. You did a phenomenal job, Hark. If I had a nursery for Sophia, I’d be begging you to paint something like this for her.” She followed him out of the room, cracking the door so she could hear her daughter cry.
He shook his head as they entered the kitchen. “No, I’m flattered, but that mural is one of a kind…”
“I can understand.” She noticed he’d taken the chicken out of their protective carriers. The microwave dinged as they walked in. “I understand it has a special place in your heart. Maybe when I get my own place I can convince you to paint something similar to it, not of the southwest - but perhaps something from my homeland?”
He moved to the microwave, his back to her. “Perhaps. We’ll see.” He turned back around with a plate holding three steaming baked potatoes. After setting them on the table, he moved to the stainless steel fridge in the corner. As he retrieved several items from its shelves, she placed a baked potato on both of their plates.
“Your Master was quite right, you have a talent, Hark. You could get thousands of dollars from not only parents but from real art dealers if you let them feature your work,” she said, after he deposited butter, sour cream and real bacon bits on the table along with a bowl of tossed salad mix. Flopping down in the chair, he rolled his eyes at her comment.
“And I’ve heard this lecture more than once from people higher up than you, Ms. Zhenya. I’m not an artist, just a guy who likes to paint pretty things because I enjoy it, not to make money. Now, eat your food.” He dug into his chicken.
“Fine, be that
way.” She picked up her fork. “But don’t be surprised if I pester you the whole time I’m here about it.”
“Then don’t be surprised if I paddle your butt for it,” he retorted with a grin.
Sighing, she held her tongue before digging into her salad. Now she had a feeling why he and Gabriel didn’t get along the greatest. They both were too bossy for their own good.
Chapter Fourteen
Taking a deep breath, Gabriel pushed open the door to Olivia’s. It’d been nearly a month since he’d walked out of Caelan’s playroom and away from the one woman who dared him to live again: a month of zero contact with Zhenya, a month of dreaming about a luscious little brunette who demanded to be more than just a replacement for his sweet Sara. As he moved through the foyer, every nerve was taut. He took in the once familiar surroundings. Standing at the security checkpoint, Carlos looked up from his magazine lying across the scarred surface of the counter.
“Master Gabriel.” A smile split the other man’s face as he rose. “It’s so good to see you.”
Shaking the guard’s hand, he drew him into a brief hug. Carlos had been manning the door at Olivia’s for years, almost since he’d stumbled inside the club one night beaten to within an inch of his life. Later Gabriel had learned it was because Carlos’s lover had told her older brothers about his so-called perversions, and they hadn’t taken Carlos’s need to submit well. Personally Gabriel had figured it had more to do with the Latin machismo than anything else. But ever since he’d healed, Carlos had repaid the favor by providing some front-line security for the woman who’d saved him that night. One lady Gabriel also was proud to call a friend.
“You too.” He released the man with a smile. “You’re looking good, Carlos. How have things been going? Your Mistress treating you well?” He slipped his wallet free of his back pocket and deposited his keys and watch into the small tray on the counter, before stepping through the metal detector.
If Carlos’s grin couldn’t have grown any wider it would’ve. “Oh yes.” He pulled aside the collar of his turtleneck to show Gabriel the heavy leather collar with a small silver tag. Leaning in, Gabriel read the inscription on it. In curved letters, it read Property of Mistress K. He looked back up and clapped his hand over his friend’s shoulder.
“She collared you. Congratulations.” If any man deserved a bit of happiness, it was the one before him.
Carlos actually flushed. “Thank you, Master Gabriel.”
Just before he went to enter the club, Carlos stopped him. “You were right, you know? I just had to give myself permission to trust again.”
“Sometimes faith in ourselves is all we need, Carlos.” Gabriel slipped inside the club, before Carlos could launch into a concerned friend speech. At this moment, he wasn’t ready to have another friend tell him Sara was gone and he wasn’t.
Fingering the tiny silver key on his key ring, he moved toward the changing rooms and his private locker. The same one he hadn’t opened since Sara’s death. If he was going to move on, he knew he had to face the past, and he figured starting with his locker was the best place. Even if his heart wasn’t up to another whirl yet, his libido, which had been neglected since Sara’s death, was screaming at him. He needed to get laid. Walking down the well-lit hall, he nodded a greeting to several other Masters, old friends who looked surprised yet supportive of him being here.
Taking a deep breath as he came to the mahogany door separating the changing area from the rest of the club, he pushed through it. His tension mounted as he walked down the aisles, until he finally came to a stop in front of his locker. He was just getting ready to unlock it when he heard Olivia’s voice behind him.
“It’s about time you came home.” Her accent, normally a soft lilt, was thick with affection, a true testament to how his presence was affecting her. Toying with the lock, he finally dropped it, the clank as metal hit metal echoed through the room.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be home again.” He finally turned around to face her. “I just don’t know. This feels like home, but why should I feel as if I am betraying her by being here?”
Olivia’s expression softened. “Do you honestly feel guilty that you’re alive and she isn’t? She wouldn’t want you to deny your very being.”
Raking his hand through his hair, he shook his head. “I swore to her she was it… there’d be no other. But now….”
“You find yourself wanting more? To feel again? To experience another’s submission?”
He nodded. “I know she wouldn’t want me to be alone for the rest of my life, and it’s been over a year, but something has happened. I go to bed restless, I wake up feeling as if there’s something missing.”
Olivia placed a hand on his arm. “Perhaps it’s your body telling you you’re ready to come back to the land of the living. Have you been writing in your journals like we suggested last month?”
He nodded. He hadn’t wanted to, but finally tired of the erotic dreams plaguing him about Zhenya, and the guilt he’d felt when he’d woken up more than once covered in his own seed, and realized it was Zhenya, and not his beloved Sara, he’d been dreaming about, he’d given in. He’d sat down and wrote in one of the many leather bound journals Sara had given him - not that she was here to read them and write sympathetic notes or even slightly naughty ones in the margins. It’d been one of their many ways of communications. When they’d first met, she’d teased him about being too closed off - too stoic to verbally express his feelings, so she’d given him the journals. They were still some of his most prized possessions.
“And is it helping?”
He shrugged. “I suppose, because I’m here to spend some time with maybe a willing sub, even if it’s only to interact.”
Olivia arched an ebony eyebrow at him. “Interact? Is that what they’re calling it these days? Last time I checked it was called getting laid.”
Gabriel swore softly, as his cheeks heated. “I didn’t say that…”
She stepped back from him. “You didn’t have to. I’ve been where you’re at. I lost a sub. When my husband died, I put my physical needs on the back burner. I almost left the lifestyle all together.”
Shock poured over him. He couldn’t imagine the owner and head Mistress of Olivia’s ever walking away from the scene. She lived for it, breathed for it. It was as much a part of her as her dark hair and green eyes. “You’d never give up Jude and Micah, or what they could give you.”
She sighed. “But I didn’t have them after Claude died. I had nothing but a house full of painful memories of a husband who was so dependent upon me that when he died, he left a huge hole in my life. If it hadn’t been for that pesky little thing called a libido, I might have made the wrong choice.”
He smirked. “So you’re telling me you let your pussy rule you?”
She smiled. “I’m human, Gabriel. I never claimed not to be. And let’s just say, the kitty can be so demanding at times that even I can’t ignore her.”
He jumped at the sound of the door opening. His eyes flew down the aisle, but relaxed as two men clad in dark leather turned down the second row of lockers, heading away from his and Olivia’s location.
“And I do believe you’re having the same issue with a different twist.” She brushed her fingers over his sleeve. “Which is why I think you’re here tonight on ‘scene night.’ You’re looking for a nameless hook-up.”
He didn’t even think about protesting. She was right and he knew it. “I don’t think I’m ready for anything more than a scene, Olivia. I’ve got needs but the emotional side…”
She nodded. “…is scary. I understand. So go out there. Find a willing sub. Do a scene, try to forget whomever it was who drove you out of your self-imposed exile. After all I’m sure she’ll eventually find a Dom who’ll treat both her and Sophia well.”
He stiffened at her implication. She may have meant the words as encouragement, but her tone implied something altogether different. “What exactly are you trying to say? Tha
t I should jump into a relationship head on with a woman who, at this moment, is living in your spare bedroom? She has a kid for fuck’s sake. And one who doesn’t deserve to think she’s nothing more than a substitute for Sara.”
Olivia narrowed her eyes. “And what makes you think that’s all she’d be? She’s nothing like Sara. She’s quiet, composed, almost like a soft breeze on a summer’s day. But don’t let her quiet nature fool you. She’s got a backbone. Your Sara was bubbly, out-going, always smiling, but needy. In some ways your Sara reminded me of Claude. Not that it’s a bad thing. As Doms we need to be needed.” She toyed with the flogger at her hip. “But it takes a special type of Dom to care for a submissive who isn’t needy all the time. One who doesn’t need their Dom to dictate their every movement, or need to be reassured daily of their place in the Dom’s life. No, the Dom a submissive like Zhenya needs is one who is capable of letting her be exactly what she is, guiding her when need be, but supporting her choices when not in the bedroom.”
“Like you found in Jude.” He couldn’t keep the bite out of his voice as he spun back around to the front of his locker. Shoving the key in the lock, he freed the padlock as he fumed. He didn’t begrudge Olivia the fact she had her submissives, but it pissed him off that she’d focused on the one point of contention between himself and Sara: her constant need for reassurance.
She must’ve freed the flogger, because the strappy thud behind him was familiar. He’d seen her lightly strap her thigh with her own flogger many times over the years. She used it when her brain was spinning, weighing her options, then deciding upon a plan of action. It usually never boded well for the intended victim. And he had feeling this time he was the one she’d set her sights on.
“Yes, like my Jude. He’s strong, but submissive. A rather unique combination. And that’s what I see in Zhenya. When I watch her with her daughter or teasing Hark.”
His immediate thoughts of being a victim flew out the window at the mention of the man’s name. Fury and panic consumed him. Swinging around, he glared at her, his hands on his hips. “What do you mean Hark? What the hell are you doing letting that man around her or my Sophia? He’s not to be trusted. He’s dangerous. Just look what happened with Teresina, Alex, and George. I can’t believe you’d let him into your home let alone around a defenseless child. Dammit Olivia! Jude promised me you’d take care of them.”
Gabriel's Light (Doms of Chicago) Page 11
