by Avery Gale
I’m going to kick somebody’s ass if they don’t answer their fucking phone. The thought sailed through her mind a split second before what sounded like a shotgun blast against the wall beside her. Kicking her way free from the sheet tangled around her legs, Reagan lost her balance and hit the floor with a resounding thud. The pounding outside the bedroom stopped, but resumed a few seconds later closer to the front of the house. Vaulting to her feet, Reagan ran straight into the bedroom door, knocking her right back onto her ass. “Fuck a fat duck.”
Getting back to her feet, she brushed the hair from her eyes and grabbed her glasses from the nightstand. Whoever was beating down the door wasn’t going to wait while she brushed her teeth and put her contacts in, so they were just going to have to cope with her looking like a homeless person who’d just been kicked out of their box. “Shit, that would be funnier if it wasn’t so close to the truth.”
She was almost to the front door when she remembered her phone. Taz and Nate had made her promise to keep it on her at all times, so she turned and sprinted back to the bedroom. Picking it up, she noted fourteen missed calls from Rafe and a couple from Brandt Morgan. “Why do I have the sheriff’s phone number in my phone? Boy, I’ll bet Rafe was worried.” She pulled the door open without checking the peephole to face a scowling Brandt Morgan.
“Damn right, he’s worried. And he’s going to be pissed when he finds out you opened the door without checking to see who was on the other side.” His glare almost singed her eyebrows it was so hot.
“Good morning to you, too, Sheriff. And how do you know I didn’t check the peephole?”
“It’s two o’clock in the afternoon, Reagan.” Well, la-te-fucking-da. So I overslept. “It’s two o’clock Friday afternoon. And you didn’t have time to check.”
“Friday? What the hell happened to Thursday?” She hadn’t intended to ask the questions out loud, but she’d been so shocked they slipped out before she could filter them.
His gaze swept over her, but there wasn’t any heat in it. “Go get dressed before the Calvary arrives. I’ll put on some coffee, and hopefully, that will get that dazed look out of your eyes before your video call with Rafe.” She was trying to keep up, but he was speaking too fast for her sleep fogged brain. Dazed look? What does he expect? I just woke up. “Move.” His sharp command and the clap of his hands startled her into action.
“Hang on to your danglers, for Pete’s sake…I’m going.” She would have laughed at the mortified expression on his face if she hadn’t worried it would be just one more strike against her, and she was already sinking like the Titanic. She heard his phone ring as she ran down the hall, but didn’t stick around to find out who he was talking to. Stepping into Rafe’s enormous master bath, she took one peek at her reflection in the mirror and screamed. Her hair was a tangle of wild curls sticking out every direction, reminding her of the cartoon characters she’d seen who’d been electrocuted. She was deathly pale. Her sun deprived skin was so light she’d probably glow in the dark. And there was a lot of skin showing since she was only wearing a skin-tight tank top that didn’t reach her bikini panties.
The door of the bathroom sounded like it was being knocked off its hinges, making her jump across the room and slap a hand over her mouth to stifle another scream. “Are you all right?”
Sucking in a deep breath, she replied, “Yes. I just saw myself in the mirror.”
She heard him chuckle before returning to whoever he’d been speaking to on the phone. “She’s fine, just freaked out because her hair’s messy.” Messy? Holy shit, it looked like she’d combed it with an egg-beater.
Glancing down at the counter, Reagan noticed the pain pills Rafe left her were scattered over it. Well, that explains the lost day. She’d never been able to handle pain meds, and these were particularly potent because he’d known she was having trouble sleeping. Scooping them up and dropping them back into the bottle, she set it in a drawer, vowing to not touch them again. A chill ran up her spine when she thought about how vulnerable she’d been. Rafe’s house had great security, so at least they’d have pictures of who broke in and murdered her in her sleep. Shaking her head at the dark humor, Reagan peeled off what little she was wearing and stepped into the massive shower.
As the hot water slid through her hair, Reagan admired the enclosure. The rock walls hid smaller shower heads at various heights, and she wondered how many times Rafe had used them to torture some poor sub. Thinking about him sharing this shower with another woman made her chest clench in something too close to jealousy for her comfort. It was ridiculous to feel possessive of a man she didn’t have any real claim on. “Just because he’s letting you stay in his house doesn’t mean he belongs to you.”
“Seems legit to me. You are sleeping in his bed. That probably means something.” Kodi’s voice sounded from the other said of the shower wall, making Reagan gasp in surprise.
“Well, personally, I always thought the rule was if you licked it, it was yours. Have you licked him yet, Reagan?” Tally’s laughter bounced off the marble in the bathroom, sounding like she was closer than Reagan hoped she actually was.
“Please tell me you aren’t in the bathroom.” Reagan’s question was muffled by the water falling all around her, but if the women were close, they wouldn’t have any trouble hearing her.
“Okay…we’re not in the bathroom.” Tally’s lighthearted tone gave away the fact she wasn’t serious.
“Tally, you aren’t supposed to lie.” Kodi’s mock exasperation with her friend made Reagan smile.
“Not my fault. She said to tell her we aren’t in here…so I did. I’m like that, you know? All compliant and shit. Besides, she didn’t ask me if we were here. If I said no, then, well, that would be lying.” Dr. Tally Tyson could always make those around her smile. She’d been one of the first members to befriend Reagan when she started working at the club.
Reagan leaned her forehead against the smooth rock below the showerhead, closed her eyes, and sighed. “Dammit, I haven’t been up long enough for this nonsense.”
“Well, Tramadol will kick your ass if you aren’t careful, sister.” Reagan’s gasp must have been loud enough for the other women to hear, because they both snickered.
“Dammit, I thought I put those away.”
“You missed one on the floor, which tells me you don’t even remember taking the second or third round.” Reagan groaned in frustration. “And this is why I won’t give this to my post-op patients unless I know they have someone at home to administer it. I’m guessing Rafe thought one of us or your medical background would help.”
“I don’t usually take opioids, because they kick my ass. But everything hurt before I went to bed. And no, I don’t remember getting up or spilling the pills. That must be why I slept so long. And that’s confidential information, by the way.”
“Well, that covers me. I can claim HIPPA as a defense, but Kodi is screwed.”
“Did I hear my name? Oh dear, I was looking at this lovely marble and not paying attention. I’m like that sometimes, off in my own little world…thinking about my next book.”
“Jesus, Joseph, and sweet Mother Mary. We get it already. Save the drama for your readers. Hey, speaking of readers, when is your next book due? I’m dying to hear what happens with Gianna. That bitch makes my blood boil.”
The two women moved out of the bathroom amid a lively discussion about whether or not Tally could claim friendship privileges and get the scoop on Kodi’s upcoming release. Reagan was out of the shower and dressed in the clothing her friends had left on the counter in record time. She was grateful for their help since she’d forgotten to grab anything and certainly hadn’t been looking forward to walking back into the bedroom wearing nothing but a towel knowing the room had cameras.
Deciding a braid was the quickest solution for the hair, Reagan was securing the bottom when Brandt stepped into the doorway. “Rafe is on a video call for you downstairs. Hop to. He’s out of patience, and I don�
��t blame him. You were just supposed to throw on some clothes.” Shaking his head, he turned, and she heard him muttering something about women fighting wars naked because they’d never be ready on time as he stomped out of the room.
Tally giggled as Reagan walked by. Cupping the underside of her breasts, she lifted them as if offering them up for inspection. “Who’s he kidding? If we show up for a war naked, it’ll be the shortest conflict in history.”
“Good grief.” Kodi’s admonishment earned her a negligent shrug. Reagan appreciated their antics. Now to get through the next few minutes without being put out on the street.
Rafe was about to give up on the video call and fly back to Montana when Reagan finally slid into view. “Peach, I’ve been so worried about you.”
He saw her blanch before she ducked her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken the pain killers. I know better. But everything hurt. And I just needed to sleep.”
Fucking hell, he felt two inches tall. “Baby, I wasn’t scolding you. I was just so relieved to see for myself you’re all right. Don’t take any more of the meds unless someone is there with you. I’ve been calling for hours, and Brandt was worried he wasn’t going to be able to wake you without going inside.” Her expression told him she understood how vulnerable she’d been.
“Do you want me to leave? I understand. I’ve been nothing but trouble. Geez, even Phoenix Morgan thinks I’m a trouble magnet like his sister.”
“Sister-in-law, sweetness. And saying you are like Calamity is probably one of the nicest compliments he could have given you. We all love Caila.” Rafe could tell Reagan hadn’t even realized Brandt was standing in the room until he spoke. She gave Brandt a small smile in acknowledgement and then returned her attention to him.
“In answer to your question, no, I do not want you to leave. As a matter of fact, I don’t want you leaving the house unless one of the Masters from the club is with you.” He could see her surprise and planned to tread carefully. He wanted her to be alert, but not terrified. After his conversation with Brandt, he was worried she’d run if she discovered Merrett was in Montana. And finding out he was less than thirty minutes away could easily send her into another flashback or panic attack.
Her brown eyes were filled with apprehension, and not the kind a Dom enjoyed seeing, either. Taking a deep breath, he continued, “Dick Merrett is on vacation, sweetness.”
“Vacation? Why would I care that he’s on vacation?” If he hadn’t been watching her carefully, he might have missed the way her spine straightened and her shoulders tensed beneath the well-worn t-shirt she wore.
“He’s in Montana, visiting family about a half-hour from Missoula. We have no reason to believe he knows where you are, but I’d prefer to err on the side of the angels.” When she didn’t respond, he tapped the screen and split his view so he could see Brandt. Much to Rafe’s relief, his friend was still standing in the room, and he’d shifted his position so he had a better view of her facial expressions. The creases between the sheriff’s brows weren’t a good sign.
“Don’t even think about running, baby.” She jerked her gaze up to his, and Rafe barely restrained the curses burning on the tip of his tongue. Deliberately softening his expression and voice, he leaned fractionally closer to the screen and whispered, “You said you wanted to learn. We’ve been shut down twice, baby. My grandmother always told me the third time’s a charm, and, sweetheart, I will be home in two days. We’ll talk again about my arrival, but for now, I want you to promise me you won’t leave the house without one of the Masters as an escort.”
She was staring at him, but he wasn’t sure she’d grasped everything he’d said. He didn’t want to end the conversation until he was certain she was onboard, but he’d already been paged twice. If he had any prayer of returning to Montana on schedule, he needed to get back to work.
The third time his pager pinged, Reagan seemed to zero in on the sound. “That’s your pager, isn’t it? And it’s not the first time it’s gone off, so I know you need to go. I promise I won’t leave the house. I’m sure there is plenty here for me to eat.” She was right. There was plenty of food in the house, and the freezer was also fully stocked. Hell, she could probably hole up there for months if she didn’t need perishables.
“Look for the letter on the counter, baby. I left it there the day I left, but fate has a way of interfering in my best laid plans to get you under me.” Or in the case of the note he’d left, naked and ready for the steamy video call he’d hoped to enjoy twenty-four hours ago. “Keep your phone on you, Peach. I’ll be calling to chat again in a couple of hours. Tally will be supervising your medication, and I suspect she’ll be making changes. Be a good girl and follow her directions.”
“Okay.” When he raised his brow and leveled a look at her that all subs recognized, she quickly amended her response. “Yes, Sir.” After signing off, he sent a quick message to Tally asking her to prescribe something milder and to dispense it personally. He wasn’t going to take any chances with Reagan’s safety.
After ending the call, Rafe pushed back from the desk and paused. How had she become so important to him amid so much chaos? She’d captured his interest the first day he’d seen her at the airport, and everything about her brought his protective instincts roaring to the surface. Shaking his head, he got to his feet. It was time to get back to work. Thankfully, he’d shifted enough appointments around he should be busy enough that he might be able to forget the fact he still hadn’t gotten to feel Reagan’s body beneath his. But he was determined to give her the introduction to the lifestyle she wanted as soon as possible, and fate just needed to cooperate this time.
Chapter Seventeen
By noon the next day, Reagan was ready to crawl out of her skin. Why on Earth had she promised Rafe she wouldn’t leave the house? Just the thought of being cooped up for another thirty-six hours made her want to jump off a bridge. In between Rafe’s call and texts, she’d polished everything she could reach, including the three cars in his garage. Why does one man need three cars? She could understand having two. After all, it wasn’t hard to imagine one being unavailable due to repairs or maintenance. But three? That seemed like overkill to her.
When she’d questioned him about his fleet, he’d laughed and informed her she hadn’t seen the cars he kept in the shed behind the house or the ones in San Francisco. Her mouth dropped open, and he’d burst out laughing. When she’d scowled at him, he’d given her a heated stare. “Oh, baby, that glare just earned you time over my knees. Glaring at your Master is never a good idea.”
Before she’d been able to pull the words back, she’d snipped, “You were laughing at me, and I didn’t like it.”
“I’d have thought you would be pleased because you’d given me something to smile about after a very difficult day.” She hadn’t thought of it that way, but it still didn’t seem fair that she was going to be punished just because his ego couldn’t tolerate a frown. “You’re overthinking it, Reagan. Did you read any of the material I forwarded to you?”
“Yes. I read it all…twice.” And she had. She’d also done some on-line research of her own. Not that it had done her any good, because now she had more questions than answers.
“Questions?”
Yes, but none that I’m brave enough to ask you. How am supposed to ask you if it’s true that some Masters give their submissives to other men to fuck? How do I tell you how much that idea terrifies me? How will I ever be able to explain how worried I am Brandt Morgan will follow through on his threat to help give me a paddling I’ll never forget?
“Reagan.” His sharp tone startled her out of her musing. Focusing on his face, she suddenly realized this was the perfect opportunity to ask those very questions. He wasn’t here. He was several states away. If he got angry, she could leave before he returned, and she’d never have to face him and admit she was too frightened to really try.
“I don’t know what’s going through that sharp mind of yours, but I’m
starting to appreciate Karl’s dilemma with Tally. It seems very bright submissives present a whole new level of challenge.” She couldn’t hold back her smile, because being compared to Tally wasn’t an insult. The doctor and Kodi had been checking on her so often, it was a wonder she’d had time to get cabin fever. “What are your questions, Peach?”
Taking a deep breath, Reagan let them all spill out without pause. When she’d finished, she gulped in a deep breath to banish the black dots dancing in her vision. This time Rafe’s soft laughter made her smile. “Decided to spit it all out while I wasn’t there, did you?”
Heat immediately infused her, and she was certain her cheeks were flame red. Busted. “Yes, Sir.” There was no reason to deny what was evidently perfectly obvious.
“First of all, remember I agreed to train you. That means I expect you to ask questions. I’d be more upset if you didn’t, because I’d worry you weren’t showing enough concern for your own well-being.” Was he serious? He wanted her to ask questions? She hadn’t done a lot of dating, but those few men had never invited questions. “As long as your questions are stated respectfully, I’ll answer them. Until we know one another better, I’ll expect you to talk to me about anything that concerns you, particularly anything that frightens you.”
Relief washed over her, and she felt herself sag in the chair. His expression softened, but his dark eyes were as intense as she’d ever seen them. “The single most important part of the D/s lifestyle is communication. Until we are intimately familiar with each other’s preferences and habits, we’ll negotiate everything. That requires your honesty. I’ll need to know that you’ll tell me if something isn’t working for you or if you’re frightened.”
