“I’m allowing you certain liberties because I like you. Are you ready for the rules?”
“Rules?” I asked playing in his beard.
“Rule number one, nobody touches you but me.” He hugged me cupping a breast gently for him.
“Easy enough, go on.”
“Only look me in the eye when we’re alone, or if I tell you to.”
“Why?”
“Rule number three, do what I tell you, if you hesitate or argue, expect to be turned over my knee no matter where we are. I hate people in general, so don’t expect me to give a shit about what they think if I have to punish you.”
“Not sure I like that, but go on.” I want to hear this, all of this.
“Keep your clothes modest. A little cleavage is acceptable, skirts stay halfway between the knee and hip. Your body is mine now, only mine. I don’t need men getting the wrong idea about my wife.”
I sat bolt upright. “Wife???”
He looked at me non-pulsed and picked up my hair to fall through his fingers. “You’re my old lady now, also known as a wife for a brother. You know that.” He scolded.
“Yeah, but…”
“No buts. I told you, I own you now. Your body and everything inside and outside belongs to me. Every thought, every idea, every notion. Mine. All your pleasure, all your pain. I’m going to break you Georgia, then I’m going to build you back up better than you could ever imagine.” He promised.
“I don’t understand, break me?”
“Yes. You need to be broken before you can submit completely to me. When you beg for me to fuck you, make love to you, then you’ll be mine completely.” He started trailing his fingers up and down my neck under my ear.
“You’re scaring me, for real. This is more than just a spanking. You’re talking complete mental reconstruction.”
“No, I still want you to be yourself, but only for me. I’m a very selfish man. You will only share with the world what I allow.” He took my hand and put it on his growing erection.
“Rule number four, if at any time I hurt you to the point you can’t take it, tell me to stop. It’s my job to protect you, but I can’t promise I won’t get carried away, it’s very easy to lose myself in you, I don’t want to hurt you so bad you hate me again.” He explained.
“I don’t know if I can do this Turner. You’re asking a lot from an assertive woman.” I relaxed a little knowing he doesn’t really want to hurt me, scar me, as he put it.
“I like your assertiveness, but it belongs to me now. If I need you to be assertive, I’ll let you know. Otherwise your only mission in life is to please me, spend time with me, talk to me alone, and give all of yourself to me alone.”
“You are very selfish. And if I break a rule?”
“Then you pay, in pain more than pleasure. Breaking rule number one will cost you your life, in a very slow and painful manner. Any other violations will be addressed as they arise.” He explained.
“And I have no choice?? I can’t say no and ask you to let me go?”
He took my chin in his fingers to make me look at him, “Keep in mind I know how your body reacts to my touch, and I know damn well that doesn’t happen unless a woman really wants a man. Especially when said man is me. Do you want to leave me?” He looked so hurt and scared all of sudden. There’s a hint of the challenge he’s presenting me with underneath the blue eyes that reflect flickering firelight from the campfire.
I swallowed. “I…I can’t answer that right now.”
“And a smart woman wouldn’t” He pulled me back down to rest my head on his shoulder. “Go to sleep baby. Tomorrow I’ll show you exactly what I want from you. If you still want to leave in a week from today I’ll take you home.” He promised.
“Really?” I put my arm back around him.
“Yes, but I think you’ll find it very difficult to walk away from the only man who will ever touch you again. Just because I let you go, doesn’t mean I’ll allow you move on. You live alone and untouched, or you live with me, the way I live.”
“That’s not much of an out.”
“You belong to me baby. I won’t force you to live with me if you hate me, but I won’t have my wife pawed.”
“I won’t be your wife if you let me go.”
He hugged me closer and took my hand to hold it on his stomach. “You’ll always be my wife, Colson’s mate for life.”
I laughed, “No you don’t!!!”
“We do when we find the right woman. Now hush, I need my sleep.”
“Selfish.” I accused but couldn’t wait to sleep and closed my eyes.
“Especially when it comes to you.” He was out ten seconds later. I swear he just flips some kind of internal switch to fall asleep. I wish I knew how to install that switch.
6
He woke me up with sweet kisses on my cheek and neck, “Wake up my love.”
“Mmmm.” I rolled into his kisses and stole his mouth with mine.
He obliged me for a few minutes them lifted up. “Open your eyes.” He ordered now.
I blinked open wishing I could go back to that sweet dream of a kiss. “Hi.” His glacier blue eyes greeted me.
“Hi what?” A hint of humor touched his tone.
“Hi baby?” I smiled knowing full well what he really wanted to hear.
He narrowed his eyes, “You’re in training Miss Pine, act accordingly.”
“Hi, sir.” I resigned more curious than not what he has planned for me.
“That’s better. Get up.” He kissed my forehead and hopped off and up toward the fire. For such a big man he moves with surprising grace. Every muscle is in complete control of that body. He reminds me of a piano. Every key has it’s purpose, and when they work together the result can be quite remarkable. Turner is a fabulous Bach.
I blinked clearing my random thoughts and got up to find my clothes. I don’t remember him taking my shirt off, oh well, not like it really matters now that he’s already crawled all over me.
He tossed a very large log on the fire and put the pot of water on to boil. Some things were here when we got here. The big iron pot, the grate for cooking, some rope, a couple tarps, and other random things he’d hidden or buried before he left the last time he was up here. At least that’s what I’m assuming.
“Up you go woman, I only have a week to make you love me despite my shortcomings.” He scolded.
“I don’t believe in love.” I said starting breakfast.
“Me either really, but it’s the only word I know for the way I feel about you.” He said absently sitting back like a king on a log. He looks like he’s settling in for a day of pampering. This should be interesting.
“I didn’t realize you felt a damn thing, other than pain.” I teased. “Breakfast?”
“Always. If you last the week without leaving me I’ll take you to my cabin for the Summer.”
I almost dropped the pan and looked at him, “You have a cabin?”
“I won’t share it with you unless you tell me you’ll be my old lady, otherwise this is all you will know of me.” He waved his hand like a king to his subjects.
I rolled my eyes. “Alright Mr. Col…I mean, sir. One week. I like a challenge, let’s see if you can really break me.” I smiled to him sweetly, inside I’m putting my devil ears on and donning my super-sharp tail.
“So far you’ve done most things I expect, and then some, like your hunting skills.” He sounded like he was reminding me because I’d cried over missing my dad. Like he’s trying to fill a gap for me. It was sweet, but it itched. Turner is not my father.
“What’s today’s first lesson?” I asked walking over to him as the vegetables caramelized for his omelet. We have eggs now thanks to his recent trip to town.
He tilted his head to his side, “Guess.”
“Some kind of sexual favor?” I asked, although I doubted that’s where he was going.
He smiled, “As tempting as that is, you don’t get anything sexual for a week.
Then you get a goodbye fuck, or you stay my wife forever.” He declared.
I pushed his knees apart and sat on his left thigh putting my arm around his shoulders. Then I remembered his hair and shifted to finger-comb it. “I’ll get as many tangles out as I can, we might have to cut the rest out.”
He closed his eyes and tucked his hand snugly between my legs. I have my jeans on, and he’s not moving, but his thumb is where my clitoris twitches now under my jeans, and his fingers and palm are tucked comfortably under my butt.
He moaned as I worked, “Mmm.”
“So there are more ways to satisfy you than sex?” I like that he’s letting me touch him so intimately. Turner is not the touchy-feely type, unless he’s on a mission.
“Anytime your hands are on me I’m satisfied.” He said softly.
“Stay, I need to start your omelet, but I’m coming right back.”
“Stay what?” He said firmly keeping his eyes closed and his head back as I got up. I get the feeling he’s letting go a little. I don’t want to ruin this.
“Please stay where you are sir, I will resume my affections shortly after attending to your breakfast.”
“Ohh, you’re good.” He smiled and lifted up to look at me. “Are you humoring me?”
I laughed realizing as he asked, “Not really. You’re not so difficult to please as you think.”
“Oh really? Maybe I should step up your training.”
I shrugged and dropped the eggs in the pan. I make a very different omelet from most people. First I caramelize some diced onion and add some deer fat, or if I’m at home I dice up some bacon using the bacon grease as the oil for omelet. Then I crack four eggs on top and take my knife to make swirls like you would caramel on top of a brownie. Then I add cheese or whatever I have that works, and fold it in half with the large spatula.
Turner loves them. The first one I made for him he ate in three bites. I doubled the eggs and meat after that.
“What was that? A shrug? Maybe I should punish you for you nonchalance.” He almost flirted.
“What would such punishment entail, sir?” I asked taunting him.
He brought his brows down and narrowed his eyes, “Careful baby. I had a very clear plan on how this week was going to play out, you’re tempting me out of it now.”
I laughed, “You had a very distinct plan when you brought me up here.” I looked at him, “How’s that working for ya?”
He almost laughed but covered it with a cough.
“That’s what I thought.” I turned his omelet over again to make sure it’s brown on both sides. He likes his meat well done. We haven’t had steaks yet, I hope he doesn’t like those well done, bleck.
“Alright Miss Pine, how do you see this playing out?” He challenged me as I plated his breakfast and sat on his lap to feed it to him.
He started for the fork but I pulled it away, “No sir. You want submissive? You have to be dominant. Put your hands down.” I said.
He dropped his hands as I took up settled comfortably on his thigh again. I put a bite in his mouth and took one myself.
When he swallowed he asked, “Why do I get the feeling you’re enjoying this?”
I put another bite in his mouth. “Because you’re not a stupid man, sir.” I took a bite before continuing. “My firm is better off without me. My father knows I’m alive and will be back in a few months.” I shrugged, “He’ll still worry, but he won’t be up Slider’s ass looking for me. Right now I have no desire to leave this oasis. I’m in my element here. Not only that, but you need me.” I shoved another forkful in his mouth to give him time to think before blurting out something hurtful.
I took a bite too. I don’t think he’s as bad as I thought. Maybe he does need me. He likes his power, shit, he was born with it. I can respect that. I like power too.
He needs control. Hell, so do I. When I lost control of my last client I felt like I was spiraling out of control with no rudder. That’s what drove me to the club for a good drunk.
Back in the day I was safe there. Nobody fucked with the daughter of the only lawyer willing to risk his life for the club. The only reason my father never became a member is because he didn’t want to prospect, and it would do nothing but harm to his career.
The club respected that, and gave him member respect despite his lack of cut and colors. Let me clarify, colors are your patch. The patch is the chapter’s logo, which in Slider’s case is also the entire club logo, or patch. Each chapter has their own patch. If you’re rogue, meaning you have no chapter, you can design your own or wear an Exile patch. Slider needs to give permission for that one.
In gangs your colors are the colors on your shirt, and every member wears the same color. They know each other by their colors.
Brothers know each other by name, or face if they’ve burned up a few brain cells over their many years of partying. Brothers know each other by the patch, and by the rockers on your cut. Brothers are not gang members.
Gangs require you to kill just to get in. Prospects for the club don’t need to necessarily kill to fulfill their obligations, that’s what the Men of Mayhem badge is for. Prospects need only prove their loyalty by doing as their told without question.
I respect prospects, they are some brave muther-fuckers. You’d be surprised the crazy shit these guys will pull to be part of the most respected brotherhood west of the Mississippi. The east is a different story.
“Where did you go?” He asked taking the last bite.
I blinked and stood up to clean the remnants of our breakfast. “I was just thinking about my last case, and how badly I handled it.”
“It’s just a lesson Peach. If we didn’t fuck up, we wouldn’t evolve.” He said it so simply it made perfect sense, well, except to my ego.
“You make it sound so simple.”
“It is. Are you going to finish my hair?” He sounded more demanding now. I think he wants to play.
I left the dishes for later and went back to him, “Yes sir. Can you come over here and sit in front of me, please sir?”
He gave me an approving look and got up to sit in front of me.
I sat Indian-style behind him and began working. “I wish I had conditioner.”
“Do you have any deer fat left?”
“No, besides, it would harden and make it really gross. I’ll be okay, it just might take a while.”
“Talk to me while you work.” He leaned his head back.
“What would you like me to talk about, sir?” I have to force myself to add that sir part at the end. It bothered me at first, but now it’s a term of endearment, as I’m not taking it too seriously. Taking Turner too seriously would open myself up for some serious pain. Pain inside is just as bad as pain outside, sometimes worse.
“Anything, I like the sound of your voice.” He’s relaxing making me feel powerful for taming him like this. I feel like I’m stroking a lion, so I move very carefully.
“Well, let’s see. I’ve won eighteen first place awards for distance-accuracy type tournaments. I told you about the knife thing…” I’m trying to think, but I can smell him as he leans back into me and it’s distracting.
“What about your mother?” He asks softly.
I froze for a second. “I’d rather not discuss her if it pleases sir.” Damn I’m getting good at this. It’s almost fun.
“It does not. Tell me about your mother. Keep in mind I’m itching for an excuse to get your beautiful ass naked under my hand.”
I sighed and tugged his hair playfully, “You fight dirty sir. Normally I lie to people, but I see no point with you. My father is my adopted father. My mother got knocked up by an original at a rally back east. She’s married to some senator now. You and I aren’t so dissimilar. I have like ten step sisters, all different fathers.”
“How did you end up with Mr. Pine?”
“She fucked him and dropped me on his doorstep. He didn’t know who she was until one day he caught the news and saw her standing next
to her senator husband.”
“How did you find this all out?”
“I have investigators working for my law firm. If only they doubled as lie detecters.” I laughed finally able to run my fingers through the last half of his hair.
“Have you met your mother?”
“Once, we don’t see eye to eye.”
“Tell me about that.”
“I went to New York to see what kind of life she dumped me for. I talked to her husband. Turns out she whored around dropping kids all over until he started running for office. He ended up claiming the last two kids as his, even though they weren’t.”
“Who were all these men she slept with?”
“Mostly bikers. She had a thing for bad guys. She’d use her husband’s political career as an excuse to travel to various rallies extending his support. Then she’d fuck a bunch of them. The only reason I know who my real father is is because I saw his picture on a memorial poster. He looked just like me.”
“Who is your real father?”
“I can’t tell you that. The only person allowed to release that information is your father. If I told you, and he found out, he’d kill me first chance he got.”
He jumped up to get his phone. I watched as he punched the keypad.
“I thought we didn’t have service.”
“I have a backup satellite service, you just have to know how to access the program and know the password.” He held the phone up to his ear. A minute later he said, “Hey Mom, I need to talk to Pop….I don’t care, get him, this is important….Pop, I got Georgia Pine on my bitch seat. She just told me her father was a member, not the lawyer. Who was he?”
I pulled my knees up to my chest as he paced on the other side of the campfire.
“Who? Are you shitting me? Why is that… Oh. I want her charge.” He looked at me.
Shit. Slider has my charge, if he loses me to Turner, I don’t have a choice at the end of this week.
“Put it in writing and send it to Slider. Put the fucking cigar down you old fuck.” He scolded shaking his head. “Tell Mom I love her too, yeah yeah, shut up.” He hung up.
I felt my eyebrows go up, “Well that was rather enlightening.”
Daunting Turns: Book 2 of Colson Brothers Series Page 8
