Entertaining Distraction: Doms of The Covenant Book Two

by Samantha Cole

  As the Donovan boys had a combination of embarrassed pink and appalled green spread across their faces, Nick roared with laughter. “Way to go, Emma! Jake had a field day when Ian told me how he’d walked in on our folks going at it a few years ago. I’m so glad it was Ian and not me. I would’ve had to bleach my brain.”

  Charlotte winked at Mike who shook his head in disbelief and chuckled. At least Mrs. Donovan was smiling again. Being part of a good, close family was something Charlotte knew well, however, with the physical distance between her and her dad and siblings, she missed feeling the comfort and sense of belonging that came with seeing them on a regular basis. But as she sat there with Emma, Nick, Jake, and Mike, she felt as if she’d come home to where she belonged—and damn, if that didn’t scare the crap out of her.

  10

  “A ll right.” From the head of the long conference room table, Ian’s gaze scanned the faces of his operatives. The Monday morning meeting had been to go over the current, recently completed, and new cases everyone was assigned to, even though a few people were missing. Lindsey Abbot, Val Mancini, and Darius Knight were still down in South America, working on a white-slavery case for the FBI. Doug Henderson, the head of Trident’s Personal Protection Division, was over at Black Diamond Records coordinating things for country singer Summer Hayes’s move from the California rehab hospital she was in, recovering from a car accident, to her home in nearby Indian Shores. The rest of Alpha and Omega teams were in attendance. “Anyone else have anything to report or discuss?”

  When no one spoke up, Jake stood. “Um, yeah. But it’s off-the-job. Someone wants to talk to everyone. Hang on a sec.”

  Charlotte had called him last night and had asked if she could speak to everyone following their meeting this morning. After finding out why, he’d agreed it was the best way to approach the situation. As if he didn’t have enough shit on his mind. His mother’s refusal to move into the assisted living, even after saying it was a nice place, was driving him nuts. They were going to have to figure out a way to keep a better eye on her. Thank God Linda and Mike had managed to get Emma’s car keys away from her. She still thought she’d misplaced them—both sets—and they’d turn up sooner or later.

  Striding to the closed door, he opened it, and called for Charlotte who was waiting in his office across the hallway. She’d sent him a text during the meeting, letting him know she was there. After Charlotte entered the conference room, Jake closed the door again and returned to his seat. The parole officer was dressed in her usual work attire of comfortable dress pants, a button-down shirt, and low-heeled shoes. She’d already shed the lightweight jacket she’d been wearing to conceal her weapon, which was holstered on her hip. Attached to her belt, in front of the holster, was a round, leather strap her shield was pinned to.

  “Good morning, gentlemen,” she said with a smile. “I hope you don’t mind my intrusion for a moment, but it’s easier to have you all in the same room so I don’t have to repeat what I have to say.”

  Ian raised an eyebrow in curiosity as did a few others around the table. “No worries, Charlotte. What’s wrong?”

  Taking a seat next to Brody, she crossed her legs and sat back. “Who said anything was wrong?”

  “Okay, then what’s not wrong?”

  Channeling her Domme persona, her gaze went around the table, landing on each man present before moving onto the next. “As Mistress China, I have an announcement to make and a request. Nick, since you already know what I’m going to say you may remain in the room.”

  “Thank you, Ma’am,” the youngest Sawyer responded with a grin. He was the only non-Dom in the room and had no problem with it. Several new members of Trident’s Omega team had either already been Doms before coming to work for the company or were in the process of training to be one.

  “I’ll call Mitch later and speak to him about this, too.” Even though Mitch Sawyer was the manager of the club, in addition to being co-owner, Ian held the title of Head Dom. In respect to that title, she turned to face him before tossing the little bomb on all of them. “I’ll be bringing a new submissive to the club soon. Brody will have an easy time with his background check . . . considering it’s Michael Donovan.”

  As Jake and Charlotte had both expected, jaws dropped around the table, and most gazes shot to Mike’s brother. Jake held up his hand to ward off any questions. “I was surprised too, but after making sure this was what he really wanted to try, I promised to stay out of it. He’s done the research and talked to Nick, so the decision is all his.”

  Brody chuckled. “The family that plays together, stays together.”

  “The reason I wanted to tell you all in this setting . . .” Charlotte continued, ignoring the big geek’s sarcasm, “. . . is I didn’t want those looks on your faces when I bring him to the club next week. I’d appreciate if you’d let your subbies know as well. Michael is nervous enough as it is. I know no one would intentionally make him uncomfortable but I wanted to cut down on the surprised expressions.”

  Ian nodded. “Okay, completely understood. Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll pass the word around to a few others who’ll recognize him.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it. That’s all I wanted to say. Short, simple, and to the point.” Instead of getting up and leaving as Jake expected her to, she glanced at him. “Now, can I get a moment to talk to you about something else, alone?”

  “Sure.”

  As the meeting broke up, Charlotte and Jake stayed behind until everyone was gone. Standing, he moved and took the seat next to her that Brody had been sitting in. “What’s up?”

  Taking a deep breath, she let it out. She’d been debating what to do since the pop-by she’d done for Jose, and now hoped she was doing the right thing. “This is off the record.”

  “Okay.”

  “You know the new sous chef at the pub is one of my parolees.” When he nodded, she continued. “I’m worried about him. I didn’t think he’d be a repeat offender, and I’m not sure if that’s what’s going on, but something’s up with him.”

  Jake frowned. “What did he do time for? Mike didn’t tell me.”

  “Grand larceny of a vehicle. He was a chop shop supplier, but unlike most of those greedy little bastards, he thought it was the only way he could provide for his pregnant fiancée. You know the type—high school dropout and poor upbringing.”

  “Oh, yeah. You think he’s fallen back on old habits?”

  Crossing her arms, Charlotte shook her head. “That’s just it—I don’t honestly know. All I do know is, when I did a pop-by at the pub yesterday, he wasn’t the same guy who’s been coming to my office over the past two months. Something was off—he wasn’t thrilled to see me, even though he was aware I’d be showing up there at some point. His drug test came up clean, didn’t have any weapons on him . . .” She shrugged. “Nothing to give me a hint of what’s going on. Usually, I let these things play out—I’m their parole officer, not their moral conscience—but this kid was really trying to put his past behind him. At least, I thought he was. He seemed to be trying to do right by his fiancée and kid. He’d even got his GED in prison.”

  “So, you want me to nose around a bit, on the q.t., to see if your instincts are dead on, as usual?”

  “If you don’t mind. I can’t put my suspicions into his file—not without any evidence—and, truthfully, I want to help him before it’s too late—if I can.”

  A smirk spread across Jake’s face as his eyes lit up in amusement. “There’s the other side of the Domme I know so well. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you’re an old softie under that Mistress China veneer.”

  Charlotte snorted softly. “That cat’s already out of the bag. I know the subs call me ‘Mother Hen’ behind my back.”

  She’d said the nickname as if she abhorred it, but Jake knew better, and he barked out a laugh. “Ha! That they do. But you do know that’s a compliment. It’s one of the things that makes you a good Dominant.” And she was—it was
the main reason he’d come to his senses and agreed to stay out of her relationship with Mike. She was one of the best Dommes he’d ever known, including the one who’d trained him to be a Dom.

  “Yeah, I know.” She pulled a piece of paper out of her purse and handed it to him. “Here’s Jose’s information.”

  After quickly scanning the data on the page, he folded it in half. “All right, I’ll see what Nick and I can come up with—he loves playing private detective. I think for his next birthday I’m going to get him a Sherlock Holmes hat, cape, and pipe.”

  “Kinky, Dr. Watson.” Standing, she patted his shoulder. “Let me get back to work. I appreciate your help, Jake . . . and your support with Michael.”

  He stood and followed her to the door. “Just remember to keep his junk hidden when I’m around.”

  * * *

  Mike watched as Mistress China paced back and forth in front of the class. Dressed in a skin-tight, black, spandex catsuit and thigh-high, leather boots, she was sin on two legs. She’d asked him to join her this evening at the club even though it was closed on Tuesday nights. She was teaching a class with Master Stefan for new Doms and subs. While Mike couldn’t play in the club until his physical was complete, Charlotte had said it would be good for him to see the place before it was filled with members scening all over.

  There were eight couples in the class in the club’s garden. The Dominants were lounging in comfortable chairs, facing the large section the instructors had roped off. The submissives were either resting on their Dom’s laps or on pillows on the floor. Mike was sitting on a chair in the roped-off area. To his immediate right, Trident Security operative Logan Reese also sat in a chair. On his lap was his scantily-clad girlfriend, Dakota Swift, a Tampa police officer. Behind the three of them was a large St. Andrew’s cross. Charlotte’s demonstration tonight involved the whip, and Mike was thanking his lucky stars it wouldn’t be his ass being lit up.

  “So,” the petite Domme was saying, “. . .”as we have stated before, a Dom should never perform a scene with their sub they haven’t experienced for themselves.”

  A man who’d been pissing Mike off by practically drooling over Charlotte snorted obnoxiously, causing her to stop in front of him and cross her arms. “Problem, Master Roy?”

  Mike didn’t need to see her face to know she was glaring at the man, who shrugged in response. “There’s no way I’m letting some chick whip me.”

  “Why’s that? Because all women are beneath you?”

  His eyes narrowed, but the stupid idiot didn’t know when to keep his big mouth shut. “No. I’m just not some wimp who needs to be whipped by my mommy. And, seriously, how hard is it to learn how to crack a whip?”

  Whatever faint chatter there’d been among the other students ground to a halt as everyone stared at the ignorant bastard and the Domme who was clearly trying to stop herself from kicking his ass out the door. Master Stefan rolled his eyes and shook his head in disgust, but didn’t interfere. Instead, he grabbed a straight-backed chair, spun it around, and straddled it, apparently settling in for the show that was about to start with Charlotte in the lead role.

  Beside Mike, Reese groaned, while Dakota whispered just loud enough for the two men to hear. “Somebody’s gonna get it and I’m so glad I get to watch.”

  Reese pinched his sub’s thigh and reprimanded her in a low voice. “Quiet, subbie.”

  “Is that what you think of all the submissives in the lifestyle, Roy?” Charlotte asked the fool in front of her, and Mike noticed she’d dropped the title in front of his name. “That they’re wimps?”

  The man seemed to realize he’d fucked up and tried to backtrack. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “If it wasn’t what you meant, then why did it come out of your mouth?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I find most things verbalized are rarely unintentional. There’s always a portion of truth or belief behind the words. Nick, come here, please.”

  Mike hadn’t seen his future brother-in-law standing in the doorway leading to the main club. Nick pushed off the door jamb he’d been leaning against and strode forward, his long, powerful legs easily eating up the distance. Several women and at least one male in the class, Dominants and subs, stared in unveiled interest at the good-looking man and his honed physique. He was dressed in comfortable, faded jeans and a dark gray T-shirt that hugged his torso and showed off his bulging arms and chest. Reaching the red, velvet rope, he stopped, spread his feet shoulder-width apart, bowed his head, and clasped his forearms with his hands behind his back in a perfect presenting position. “Yes, Mistress China?”

  She began to pace the length of the roped off area again. “Nick, how long did your Dom train with a whip before he ever used it on a submissive?”

  “From what Master Jake has told me, approximately eighteen months, Ma’am.”

  “And during those months, how often was he, himself, whipped?”

  “Approximately, once every week or two, Ma’am.”

  “And does he still occasionally get whipped by another Dominant?”

  “Yes, Ma’am. Over fifteen years later, he still does.”

  “Before you moved back to Tampa, subbie, what was your profession?”

  Mike could see the corners of Nick’s mouth tick upward, even though his head was still bowed in respect, before he said, “I was a Navy SEAL, Ma’am. Hoo-yah!”

  “Your Dom was also a Navy SEAL before going into the private sector several years ago, correct?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “How many times has your Dom whipped your back since you signed your original contract with him?”

  “I lost count, Ma’am, but well over thirty times in the past two years.”

  “Do you enjoy being whipped?”

  “Yes, Ma’am, very much.”

  “Why?”

  “The subspace I hit during the scene is an incredible, drug-free high. It’s also a way for Master Jake and I to bond further. I trust him completely, and that pleases him—and the sex afterward is freaking amazing. We both benefit from it.” The guy was obviously not embarrassed about anything he’d said, and Mike wished he was as confident as Nick was when it came to the lifestyle.

  “And has he ever broken your skin?”

  “Not once, Ma’am.”

  “Has he ever whipped you in anger?”

  “No, Ma’am.”

  “In frustration?”

  “No, Ma’am.”

  “Under the influence of drugs or alcohol?”

  He snorted as if it was a ridiculous question. “Absolutely not, Ma’am.”

  “Thank you, Nick. You’re dismissed.”

  “Thank you, Ma’am.” What the rest of the class didn’t see was when Nick lifted his head, he gave Charlotte an amused wink before pivoting on his feet and returning to his spot in the doorway.

  However, Charlotte wasn’t done yet. Her rapid-fire questions reminded Mike of an attorney performing a cross examination of a witness. “Master Logan, would you mind stating your prior profession?”

  Reese appeared to have been expecting the question. “Not at all. I was in Special Forces in the military, but can’t specify further for security reasons.”

  “Special Forces are the best of the best in any branch, correct? And the training is grueling?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Have you ever been whipped, Master Logan?”

  “You know I have since you and Mistress Roxy have been the ones wielding the whip during my sessions.” Mike had only found out earlier that Reese had been scening with the two Dommes. He’d been surprised, then realized there was so much he wasn’t aware of when it came to Jake’s teammates.

  “I know you can’t go into specifics, but why do you get whipped?”

  “I find it therapeutic after experiencing a traumatic event during my time in the military that most people couldn’t even imagine.”

  “Have I or Mistress Roxy ever broken your skin during a session?”

&
nbsp; “Nope.”

  “How difficult is it to stay perfectly still during a whipping scene?”

  “In the beginning, it was very difficult. It took weeks before I could trust you both enough to stand with my back to you and allow you to whip me.”

  “And now?”

  He smiled. “Now, I trust you both 110%.”

  “What would happen if you moved while I was in mid-swing?”

  “I’d risk throwing off your aim and velocity, and would probably need stitches to close the deep laceration I’d end up with.

  “Have you learned how to wield the whip?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you ever use the whip on your sub or anyone else?”

  “Probably not,” the Dom admitted. “Even after all these months of training, I wouldn’t attempt it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I still slice through the practice paper. I can’t . . . I won’t risk doing that to my sub’s skin, or anyone else’s.”

  “Thank you, Master Logan. Dakota, you’ve observed your Master’s sessions with me for quite a while now, correct?”

  The sub sat a little straighter in her Dom’s arms. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Have you ever been whipped for a scene?”

  Most, if not all, of the students were probably unaware Dakota had been attacked and whipped by the “Kink Killer,” who’d been torturing and killing BDSM submissives, several months ago, but Mike knew about it. How she’d recovered and then willingly let someone use a whip on her for a scene blew Mike’s mind. She was a helluva woman and cop.

  “Yes, Ma’am. Two weeks ago, with Mistress Roxy. You and my Master were present.”

  “That was your first time?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” Well, technically, it was since the other time hadn’t been her choice.

  “Why did you finally decide to be whipped after so many years in the lifestyle?”

  Dakota’s gaze softened as she looked into Reese’s eyes. She smiled at him. “Because I love Master Logan and wanted to completely understand what he was experiencing. I know the reasoning behind his need to be whipped, and it meant a lot to me—and him—for me to experience it. I might not scene with a whip again—it’s back on my hard limits because I’m not that big of a pain slut—but I can fully appreciate now what he’s going through during a session.”