Butterfly Style: The Dartmouth Cobras ~ A Cobra Short

by Bianca Sommerland

  This was different. Not only was he demanding her attention, but…he was acting as if she’d done something wrong. His reaction to her not finding a Dom, a man, hit her the hardest. At first, she wasn’t sure why.

  As it came back to her, her throat tightened. It was too close to her mother’s reaction when she’d admitted to liking girls. The day she’d been kicked out.

  “I knew there was something wrong with you…”

  Her phone slipped from her hand and hit the desk. She looked up at the clock on the wall. She still had five minutes before her break ended. Time enough to pull herself together.

  She ran to the bathroom as her stomach flipped. Made it just in time to retch up the lunch she’d eaten less than an hour before.

  Stepping up to the sink, she washed her face. Rinsed out her mouth. Then finally lifted her head, ready to look in the mirror and fight the hate she saw in the reflection. This wasn’t the first time a trigger brought her mother’s words back to her. She’d gotten better at silencing that voice in her head over time. Usually by focusing on something her foster mom, or dad, or brother had said.

  But this time, it was Chicklet that soothed her. Meeting her own eyes in the mirror, she could hear that calm voice, like a balm over her tender scars.

  “I am a woman. A woman you’re attracted to. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “I know.” Laura pressed her wet hands to her cheeks.

  “You don’t have to take on all the intolerance out there, or confess your ‘sins’ to the world, but you do have to accept that it is a woman touching you.”

  Recalling her touch quickened Laura’s pulse. She let her eyes drift shut.

  “Kissing you.”

  Her lips heated, almost as though Chicklet were kissing her now.

  “And giving you everything you need.”

  That hadn’t changed. Since they’d met, Chicklet had given her more than she could have ever asked for. Mills couldn’t take that away with his stupid messages. Even the memory of her mother couldn’t spoil what they were building together.

  Laura wasn’t that lonely sub looking for something to fill the void. She wasn’t that broken little girl, desperate for acceptance and love.

  She was a woman who’d finally found her place in the world. With her Mistress, who made her feel strong and whole. Whether standing by her side.

  Or on her knees.

  By the end of her shift, Laura was more than ready for the latter. As strong as she was, she also loved that Chicklet showed her she didn’t always have to be. Sometimes, she could use that escape.

  And there was nothing wrong with that either.

  Chapter 7

  One look and Chicklet could tell something was wrong. Sitting at the bar in Blades & Ice, she’d been ignoring pretty much everyone, staring at the door, trying not to sigh every time someone came in who wasn’t Laura.

  Then her woman, with her big blue eyes and hesitant steps, approached coat check and handed over her jacket, shoulders hunched as she fisted her hands by her sides. She was wearing jeans and a simple light blue polo shirt. Not exactly club wear—not that Chicklet cared. All she could see was Laura hanging by the door, like she couldn’t decide whether to continue in or make a run for it.

  Time to take that option away from her.

  “Laura.” Chicklet approached the other woman slowly, catching her wrist when Laura startled and shied away. “None of that. You’re not afraid of me. Tell me what happened.”

  Rubbing her free hand against her thigh, Laura tipped her head back, blinking fast. “I know better than to dress like this at a club. The guy at the door, he only let me in because you told him I was coming to see you. I had an outfit planned, but I didn’t want to go home.”

  The automatic question as to why almost crossed her lips, but she noticed how pale Laura was. The way she tried to stop herself from shaking. She pulled Laura close and wrapped her arms around her.

  Leaning against Chicklet, Laura let out a stifled sob. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mistress. I’m a mess and I was so happy. I am happy.”

  She didn’t look it, but Chicklet understood what she meant. Nothing Chicklet had done had caused this. But forcing Laura to talk too soon would be like pouring alcohol on an open wound.

  Alcohol had much better uses.

  Kissing Laura’s forehead, Chicklet drew her over to the bar. “I know you don’t drink often, but how about some bourbon? I remember you mentioning it reminds you of your father.”

  “My foster father. Yes. He has some every Friday.” Laura smiled, but her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. “Why couldn’t I have found a man like him? I’m so fucking stupid.”

  “One of my hard limits, Laura. I don’t appreciate my subs insulting themselves.” Chicklet kept her tone light, using her thumb to wipe away the tear that spilled down Laura’s cheek. “Have a drink with me. And take a deep breath.”

  Laura nodded, whispering thanks to the bartender before picking up her glass and taking a few gulps of the amber liquid. Then she inhaled slowly, holding the glass between her hands and shaking her head.

  Chicklet settled on the stool beside Laura, tipping her beer to her lips and watching her from the corner of her eye. Since she’d met Laura, she’d gotten a good idea of how the woman processed emotions, but this was different. That neat little box Laura usually stuffed away all the feelings that got in her way had split down the sides. Chicklet could usually help her unload them carefully, had found a good rhythm between bringing them to light so they could talk things out, while leaving those Laura wasn’t ready to share in the dusty corners of her mind to explore next time.

  Something had happened to bring them all out in the open, scattered around so Laura was tripping over one after the other, completely surrounded with no way to break free. A scene wouldn’t do her any good until Chicklet knew what had set her off.

  Finishing her drink, Laura raked her fingers through her hair and let out a hollow laugh. “I’ve become all the women I’ve helped file reports. And I’m not sure how it happened. My home was the one place I was safe. I can name the people who know where I live on one hand.”

  Swallowing hard, Chicklet set her beer down. This part was hard. As a Domme, she could influence her subs’ lives, but sometimes she had no right to. She was still trying to wrap her brain around the fact that she was dating a cop. A woman who wore a gun because part of her job was dealing with the worst kind of people out there. Laura ran into danger, rather than away from it. And one of these days, the risks she faced every time she put on that badge could kill her.

  There was no point in denying that it had crossed Chicklet’s mind to ask Laura if she could do something else. Work in an office. Hell, answer the phone and send someone else to deal with the bad guys. But every time Laura talked about her job she could tell the woman was doing what she was meant to. Fulfilling her dreams. She cared so much, gave her all, and she wouldn’t be the woman Chicklet loved if she could walk away from the life she’d devoted herself to.

  That said, obviously something had pushed beyond whatever Laura did to make herself feel safe. Chicklet didn’t know if it was someone she’d arrested. Maybe a woman she’d saved from a bad situation, whose lover held a grudge. Whatever had happened, Laura needed her. Not to save her—damn it, she wished she could—but just to listen.

  A fresh drink was placed in front of Laura. She simply stared at it.

  All right, Chicklet hated feeling useless. Maybe she couldn’t make this all go away, but she knew very well no one had ever pushed Laura to share her feelings. Her foster parents would have tried, but kids were fucking complicated. And the woman Laura was now would be more concerned with showing gratitude for what they had given her, than leaning on them even when she needed it.

  She can lean on me.

  “When you have someone that’s afraid to go home, what do you do?” Chicklet was uncomfortable being so indirect. She was usually confident about everything, but
she couldn’t be now. She had no idea what she was dealing with.

  Lara picked up her glass. “I ask if there’s a friend they can stay with. Someone they trust.”

  “Do you have someone?”

  With a slight curve to her lips, Laura met her eyes. “Yes. You.” She set her glass down and pressed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry. This probably sounds a lot worse than it is. I didn’t think… It’s not about my job. I’ve had threats from people I’ve arrested, but I know how to handle that.”

  Okay… Chicklet frowned. “Then…?”

  “It’s Mills.” Laura groaned, dropping her head to the edge of the bar. “He was perfect. Never asking for too much. With him the lifestyle was completely separate. I don’t know what happened. He crossed the line and I…I should have realized it would come to this. But I didn’t. And now he’s waiting for me.”

  Jaw clenched, Chicklet stared at the back of Laura’s head. Now this was something she could get involved with. Laura’s ex-Dom was fucking with her?

  Buddy, you have no idea who you’re messing with.

  “Laura, you will tell me exactly what he said.” Chicklet did her best to remain calm, but the way Laura’s lips parted as she looked up told her she’d failed. “When it comes to your job I’ll do my best to offer support, but I won’t be intrusive. Beyond that? Prepare for me to be all up in your business.”

  Blotchy red spread over Laura’s cheeks. “I don’t want to ruin our time together.”

  “You haven’t.” Chicklet put her hand over Laura’s on the bar. “Unless you make me repeat myself.”

  Laura went still, and began speaking as though the command had set her free. She stopped shaking, but her tone was lifeless as she repeated the messages Mills had sent her, as though every word was branded in her mind. Without being asked she told Chicklet her reaction to everything he’d said. And hearing the pain, that sense of betrayal, hurt.

  Chicklet hadn’t been able to protect Laura from him. She hadn’t even known he was a threat.

  But she did now. And that was all that mattered.

  “Listen to me, little dove. That asshole does not get to do this to you.” She had an idea for how to make the fucker rethink ever so much as liking one of Laura’s posts again, never mind contacting her, but only if she agreed. “Tell me I can make him suffer.”

  Laura cocked her head, her brow creasing slightly. “You’re asking for permission?”

  “Yes.” Chicklet shot her a crooked grin. “Don’t expect it to happen often.”

  Biting back a smile, Laura nodded. “All right, but I have no idea what you could possibly do to him. He knows me, knows exactly how to get me in that headspace where I can’t…” She frowned and stared at her bourbon. “I can’t stand up to him.”

  Jaw hard, Chicklet framed Laura’s face in her hands. “I’m sure he had that power once, little dove. But it now belongs to me. You’re mine. No one fucks with those who belong to me.”

  A heavy hand settled on Chicklet’s shoulder. Sloan nodded to Laura, then met Chicklet’s eyes. “Who we burying today?”

  Damn it, I love this man. Chicklet knew Sloan would have her back without question, but she didn’t need him to make Laura’s pathetic ex wish he’d stayed home.

  But he might be able to help in another way. “Is Teresa here? I’d love to check out some of those cute little outfits she makes. I just realized me and my pet need new wardrobes.”

  Sloan’s brow shot up. He studied her typical black leather vest and pants, the studded armband on her left arm, and her knee high, multiple strap leather boots. “What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?”

  “I’m in the mood for something pretty.” Chicklet rolled her eyes when Sloan snorted. “You want to help? Find Teresa.”

  Lips thin, Sloan gave her a mock bow, then took off. He’d probably hoped she’d let him kick Mills’ ass, but if it came to that, she had no problem letting him off his leash. She’d do it herself, but damn it, she’d just gotten her nails done.

  Fingers curled, she looked down at her long, shiny black nails, chuckling as Laura drew in a sharp inhale.

  “What is it, pet?”

  Laura wet her lips with her tongue. “You’re a little scary right now. You’re not going to do anything illegal, are you?”

  “Of course not!” Chicklet smirked. “There are plenty of perfectly legal ways to break a man.” She rose from her stool as she spotted Sloan returning with the costume-maker. “And lucky for you, I’m skilled in several.”

  Chapter 8

  A schoolgirl outfit. Of all things.

  This is so not my kink!

  Laura wrinkled her nose as she stood in front of the dressing room mirror, smoothing the little red plaid pleated skirt down and adjusting the thin black suspenders over the white shirt. Knee high socks and Mary Janes completed the outfit. Thankfully, she didn’t have to wear pigtails. She felt silly enough without them.

  Hit me, baby, one more time. Dear god, she could actually picture the music video for the Britney Spears song in her head. If they played that tonight, she was out of here.

  The snick of heels sounded on the tiled floor, coming toward her. She held her breath, glancing over at Chicklet, whose outfit she hadn’t seen yet.

  “Oh… Wow.” Laura bit her lip, completely stunned. She knew Chicklet was a gorgeous woman, but she’d rarely seen her out of jeans and leather. The power she exuded hadn’t faded, but there was something more provocative about it now.

  In a small, midriff baring red latex halter top, with a black latex skirt that clung to her hips and could easily be called a belt, Chicklet’s whole outfit was a mouthwatering vision of temptation. Her incredibly long legs were covered in fishnet stockings, clipped to garters the skirt didn’t hide. Sexy black peep-toe stilettos, with metal heels that could qualify as lethal weapons, put her well over six feet.

  She looked like a pro-Domme, ready to play whatever part a man might need for the night. Laura had met a few in the past and she’d always admired the way they could offer the naughty fantasy, then twist it to satisfy their own desires.

  But she couldn’t picture Chicklet entertaining anyone for any price. Even if she retained all the control.

  “You look completely shocked, little dove.” Chicklet faced the mirror, then pulled a tube of lipstick from between her pushed up breasts to slick her lips with blood red. “Since you won’t ask, I’ll just tell you. Yes, I’ve dressed like this before.” Her lips quirked at the edges. She gestured to Laura’s outfit. “Actually, I wore something similar to that while I was training as a submissive.”

  Laura’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “You were a submissive?”

  “Mmhmm. Remind me to tell you about it someday.” Chicklet stashed the lipstick and put her hands on her hips, facing Laura. “Did you message him the address where to meet us?”

  Swallowing hard, Laura nodded. The last thing she wanted to do was see Mills, but she trusted Chicklet.

  And somewhere, deep down, she was eager to see exactly what her Mistress had planned for him. Facing Mills on her own scared her, because she had no idea how he would affect her. What if one word from him had her ready to drop to her knees and beg for forgiveness? Ready to give him anything he wanted?

  You’re stronger than that, Tallent. You’ve faced down big men high on PCP without breaking a sweat.

  True, but she was a different person wearing the badge. The second she stepped through the doors of the club she was looking to give up control. And while she was always careful about who she surrendered it to, Mills had already had it for years.

  “Laura, pay very close attention to what I’m about to say.” Chicklet took a firm hold of her jaw, trapping Laura in the depths of her sharp green eyes. “You do not speak to him unless I tell you to. You will not respond to his commands. He has no power over you.”

  Biting back a nervous laugh, Laura nodded.

  Chicklet arched a brow. “What’s funny?”

  “Nothing.” Laura
bit the tip of her tongue when Chicklet frowned at her. “It’s just what you said reminds me of The Labyrinth.”

  Snickering, Chicklet slipped her arm over Laura’s shoulders, guiding her to the door. “Please tell me he doesn’t look like David Bowie.”

  “No, a bit more like an older Edward Cullen.”

  “Who?”

  “Twilight?”

  Making a face, Chicklet sighed. “Laura, you have the most horrible taste in men.”

  Obviously. Laura followed Chicklet to a small sitting area set up halfway across the club, with a red velvet loveseat and two matching chairs. Around them, the night was just getting started, the lights growing dim and the volume of the music slowly rising as players chose different stations and set up for their scenes.

  Sitting on the loveseat, ankles crossed as she leaned back, Chicklet tossed a cushion on the floor, her eyes on something across the room. “On your knees, love. As comfortably as possible and not like you’ve been trained to. But keep your eyes down.”

  The cushion was big, so Laura could have easily gotten comfortable in the standard kneeling position, but Chicklet’s instructions threw her off. Not like she’d been trained to?

  She lowered to her knees gracefully, scooting back, then shifting so she was resting on her hip. Her hands should be on her thighs, but…at a loss, she clasped them over her stomach.

  “Very good, little dove.” Chicklet smiled at her. Then lifted her head, sitting up slightly. “Ah, Sloan. Thank you for showing our guest the way. Would you mind sending a few drinks? Laura will have another bourbon and I’ll have a martini.”

  “Sure.” Sloan’s tone was rough with irritation. Laura peeked up to see him scowling at someone behind her. “What do you want?”

  “I’ll have bourbon as well, thank you.” Mills’ smooth tone sent a chill down her spine. And not a pleasant one. As Sloan walked away, Mills moved to stand in front of her. “What’s happened to you, pet? I’ve never seen you so…laid-back.”