Becoming His, Learning to Breathe: Part Two - The Collective - Season 1, Episode 8

by Ellie Masters

  Precisely at seven the next morning, Derek’s driver, Dan, knocked on Sally’s front door. The sleek, black town car parked outside ready to take her to Derek. As before, black trousers and a matching blazer contained Dan’s muscular frame. Instead of work shoes, black shit-kicker boots clad his feet. Soft-spoken to a fault, a silent power radiated off the man. It did nothing for her. He was attractive with his freshly shaven square jaw and smooth scalp. His baldness intensified his looks rather than detracted from them. His dark eyes glittered in the morning sun, but a perpetual lift at the corners of his lips made it hard to suppress a cockier demeanor.

  “Miss Sally,” Dan asked, “are you ready?”

  “Let me grab my laptop, and I will be,” she said. “Would you like to come in?”

  He peered through the open doorway but made no move to enter. “I don’t think that would be appropriate.”

  She scrunched her brow. “Why?”

  The muscles of Dan’s jaw twitched. “You belong to Master Derek. No man should step inside without his permission. I do not have that.” He glanced down at her backpack. “May I take that to the car?”

  Derek had said not to bother with clothes. She had her vitamins and the few medicines she took, plus an assortment of her favorite candies and other munchies. Her makeup and favorite hair brush were in there, too.

  “Um, okay. Give me a second, and I’ll be right out.”

  After packing up her power cord and shoving her laptop into its carrying sleeve, she met Dan at the curb. With his posture stiff and formal, he bent slightly and opened the back door. She slid into the luxurious interior and took a moment to enjoy the buttery smooth texture of the seats and inhaled the richness of the leather.

  Dan climbed in the driver’s seat and pressed the ignition. The car rolled forward taking her away from home and toward something much more interesting.

  Remembering her first night with Derek on the yacht, she pulled out her phone and called her best friend. George answered on the fifth ring.

  “Good morning.”

  “Good morning,” George said. “It’s early. What’s up?”

  “I’m headed into the city to see Derek, and I wanted—”

  “You needed another safety check?” His chuckle had her rolling her eyes.

  She’d been oblivious that first night when Derek insisted she call a friend and tell her what and where she was going, but after the last couple days, she understood that had been a safety check. He’d told her to call her girlfriend and arrange for check-ins through the night. Derek had been more than a little surprised when her girlfriend turned out to be a guy.

  “So,” George continued, “what’s it going to be this time? And you still haven’t filled me in on your night on the yacht. Did he kiss you? Did you kiss him back? Did you sleep with him, or are you still keeping your legs shut, pining away your life?”

  “George!”

  He certainly didn’t waste time getting to the point, but then George had been on her to move beyond the grief she’d held for her husband for far too long. Her face heated and she caught Dan glancing through the rearview mirror.

  “You’re not answering me,” George pouted.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Fine, keep it to yourself. I’m headed up to Tahoe with Tank. I was going to see if you wanted to come? You know how I hate that drive.”

  George hated driving by himself, but she wasn’t keen on riding that far with Tank in the car. The two-hundred-pound Newfoundland puppy was a friendly dog, except for the long black hair, the slobber, the smell, and the fact that he kept trying to crawl up to the front seat to sit in her lap.

  “What about Charles?”

  “Work trip. Two weeks this time.”

  George and Charles had a long history but had only been together the past few years. They’d shared the same foster home as children until circumstances separated them in sixth grade. Months apart in age, neither of them had fully embraced their sexuality until a freakish reunion as freshmen in college. Charles was the best thing that had happened to George, even if he worked long hours and frequently left town on business.

  “Sorry,” she said. “Derek has plans for the whole weekend.”

  “He sounds interesting. I’m looking forward to meeting him.” George paused, and the tone of his voice shifted, turning serious. “You don’t think you’re moving too fast?”

  “You’re the one who wanted me to get out of the house and meet someone. I’m doing that.”

  “With a guy who has you calling for safety checks. Do you have any idea what you’re getting into?”

  A few days ago, that answer would have been a definitive No. Something in her life had been missing. For the past five years, she’d assumed it had been residual grief over the passing of her husband. Cancer was the worst mistress, cruel and relentless in her devastation, but Sally had reached an epiphany that night at the ballet.

  Thomas had passed. He left a gaping hole in her heart. One which could never be filled, but that hadn’t been the ache she’d felt all these years. It had been a sense of missing a piece of herself more than grieving Thomas’ death. That piece was something she hoped Derek would help her find.

  “I’m not rushing into anything. I’m being safe. Hell, I’m calling you.”

  “But you don’t even know where you’re going to be this weekend.”

  “No, but I trust Derek, and besides, you have my cell and can track my location. I’ll call and check in.”

  “And if you don’t?” His worry poured through the connection. “Maybe I should stay close?”

  “No!” She didn’t want to ruin his plans. “Really, don’t change them. I know how much Tank looks forward to the snow. Take him to the backcountry, let him run. Bruce said the Sierras got a lot of fresh snow this week.”

  His voice turned wistful. “They did. I packed my cross-country skis, but I’m thinking of taking the others. I have a buddy with a helicopter who’s willing to let Tank ride. I want to get Tank used to helicopters, and he’ll definitely love running the backcountry slopes.”

  “Sounds perfect.” She leaned forward. “Dan?”

  “Yes, Miss Sally?” He glanced in the rearview mirror.

  “Do you know where Derek is taking me?”

  His lips firmed into a hard line. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

  She held up her phone. “I’m calling my friend with a safety check. I kind of need to know what to tell George.”

  Dan turned his attention back to the road, but she could see the clenching of his jaw.

  George spoke into her ear. “Who was that?”

  “The driver.”

  “This Derek guy didn’t even pick you up? You just hopped into a car with his driver? You sure this is safe?”

  “I’m certain.” She sat back, worried about George’s concern. Maybe she was moving too fast, and rushing toward some fantasy.

  She was excited. There was no denying that, and the sex had been over the top, but she still didn’t really know Derek LeMark. She had spent a dream night on his yacht, and he’d said he planned to kidnap her for the weekend. If he had his way, and as a dominant, he would insist, by tomorrow she would know what it felt like to be truly consumed by him. She wanted to see how the weekend played out, but her obligation to George, her boy-best-friend, called out for caution.

  The low rumble of Dan’s voice rolled back to her ears. He was on the phone with someone.

  “Do you really think I should call things off?” She could always ask Dan to turn around and take her home.

  Through the rearview mirror, Dan’s eyebrow quirked up. His lips moved, speaking quietly. She didn’t see a phone, but in a car like this, he was probably hooked in somehow.

  Silence stretched for a minute over the line with George. She was about to tell him she would call her weekend adventure off when he finally responded.

  “Stay. I think you need this, but I’d feel better if I knew where you were going to be.”


  She hesitated, then Dan spoke up.

  “Miss Sally?”

  “Yes, Dan?”

  “Master Derek says to tell your friend, George, that you will be sailing on his yacht across the Bay and spending the weekend in Napa. He’s texting you the address now and asks that you give it to your friend.”

  She spoke to George. “Did you hear that?”

  “I did. I suppose that’ll work, but I’m going to call Reid. If something happens, I’m going to be over three hours away. I want someone I trust to check in with you.”

  Her phone vibrated with an incoming text. An address in Napa popped on the screen. Nothing else. No message from Derek, just an address. She copied it and forwarded it to George.

  “There,” she said. “I just sent it.”

  “You know,” George said, “I’m kind of jealous you’re going on that yacht again. I’d love to see it.”

  “Give me a couple more dates before you start asking me to invite you onboard a boat I don’t own, please.”

  He laughed. “Well, if this Derek guy has a thing against Newfs it wouldn’t work anyway. But you know…Tank would love a swim.”

  Newfoundlands were notorious for their swimming skills. They’d been bred to be water rescue dogs. Tank was being trained for alpine rescue as an avalanche, or avy dog, but she’d seen him in the water. Or rather, had spent hours trying to get him out of the water. Tank was a doll, but the dog could have a thick head. He shared that trait with George.

  “Got the text,” he said. “I’m calling Reid, just so you know.”

  It was bad enough having an overprotective male best friend, but having one like Reid? Derek had better never give either of them a reason to intervene.

  “It’s going to be fine,” she said, “but thank you for looking out for me.”

  “Of course, and Sally?”

  “Yes?”

  “If you haven’t slept with him yet, do so by the end of the weekend. You need to get laid, and remember—practice safe sex!”

  “George! That’s none of your business.”

  “Sure is, I have rights as BBFF. It’s my job to protect you, and irritate you, and ask you all kinds of intimate questions you don’t want me knowing…like, have you slept with him yet?” His laughter flowed through the phone, making her smile.

  “Everything okay, Miss Sally?” Dan glanced in the rear-view mirror again.

  “Just George being George.” And she loved him like a brother, both him and Tank. They were the only family she had left.

  Before long, Dan pulled into a familiar parking lot. The boats were there, but where was Derek?

  Limo

  Dan opened the door to the town car and helped Sally out. He retrieved her small bag from the trunk. “Master Derek is waiting for you on the Sea-duction. Would you like for me to take this?” He gestured to the small backpack.

  “Oh, that’s not necessary.” She retrieved her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. In her other hand, she gripped the small case with her laptop inside.

  There was very little wind, barely enough to move the tips of her long brown curls. The briny scent was thicker than the last time she’d been here, more pungent, and hung heavy in the air. Overhead, a dull gray sky reflected back the filtered light of the sun. Not quite nine AM, the sun hadn’t won its daily war against the infamous San Francisco fog.

  Seabirds swooped and dove around the masts of sailing yachts, calling out challenges as they hunted for morsels of food, or fought over resting spots in the riggings. A few people walked down the docks, lugging bags and coolers for a day on the water. One man had a yellow Labrador retriever hooked up to a harness, pulling a little kid’s red wagon. Grocery bags perched precariously, threatening to fall off at any moment. The dog walked ahead of its owner, tongue lolling out, eyes bright with that endless energy all dogs shared. It stopped, turned its head and gave an excited woof, urging its owner to hurry up. The man struggled with a large sea bag, his arms overloaded with fishing poles, and called out to the dog to ‘slow down.’

  “Do you remember where it’s berthed?” Dan asked.

  There was no need to remember. Off to the left, the boats grew in size, until dwarfed by the largest yacht in the marina. Sea-duction was a gorgeous vessel, full of clean lines, dripping with luxury, and completely unforgettable.

  She pointed. “It’s hard to miss.”

  Dan’s lips twitched upward. “That is true. Let me escort you,” he insisted.

  “Oh, that’s not necessary. Thank you for driving.”

  “Anytime, Miss Sally.”

  Dan unlocked the security gate leading to the docks and held it while she ducked beneath his arm. She walked to the pier, turned left, headed toward Derek and whatever weekend activities he had planned.

  As she approached Sea-duction, crewmen busied themselves with preparations to cast off. They nodded politely, but otherwise left her alone as she boarded what appeared to be an otherwise empty boat. While they scurried about securing lines, she headed to the back deck where a fair-sized bathing pool rippled in the light. A two-story waterfall cascaded down cut stone and splashed into the pool. She closed her eyes and listened to the soothing sound, felt the gentle rocking of the boat, and breathed in the chilly morning air. This was something she could easily get used to.

  What was a word one level beyond luxury? She sure as hell didn’t know, but this was it.

  Opening her eyes, she stared out toward the San Francisco Bay. The fog thinned out a bit but clung tight to the water as it battled with the rising sun. The moist air chilled her and sent a shiver fluttering over her skin. Teak planking creaked behind her, and she spun around, startled by the noise.

  Derek stood, arms crossed over his chest, his deep blue eyes flashing in the light. The look on his face was dark, possessive, and terrifying because of the way her body pulsed with instant arousal in his presence. It had been two days since she’d last seen him, and she didn’t realize until now how much she’d missed his commanding presence, the heat in his eyes, and the overwhelming maleness that was Derek LeMark.

  “Derek,” she exclaimed. Whatever else she’d thought to say, faded beneath the gravity of his gaze.

  He stepped toward her, his eyes flashing with a desperate hunger. It was so brief she thought she might have imagined it. He lowered his gaze to linger on her lips before dropping to take in her breasts. He touched the hollow of her throat with a finger and traced down to brush against her cleavage.

  With a whisper, he murmured, “You’re mine.” His words had been spoken so low she strained to hear them.

  “Derek…” she said on the end of a sigh. The man was more than swoon-worthy, he was downright perfect.

  “Red or Green?”

  For a breathless moment, Sally struggled. This wasn’t a ‘hello, I missed you.’ It was a declaration of intent, and what a way to set a mood. The tone of his voice demanded an answer, and she found herself mute.

  “I know what I want,” he said. “The question is do you? Are you willing to travel this path? You may leave now, but if you stay, understand why you’re staying, and what choice you’re making.”

  “Derek…” She seemed incapable of saying anything other than his name.

  He shook his head. “I want you to understand what you’re agreeing to…”

  She straightened her back and leveled her chin. “I’m not going to run from this…from you. I have a lot of questions. I won’t pretend I don’t, but I’m interested. I want to try.”

  He grabbed her and pulled her against his chest moments before his mouth pressed down on her lips. The kiss was hungry and raw. He pushed her lips open with his tongue, demanding entrance, where he then licked and nipped, and devoured her breathy sighs.

  As her insides heated with the force of his passion, she melted into his embrace, wanting more, and needing his touch everywhere at once. She chased the blazing heat until he left her gasping for breath. Then, he released her and gazed down with m
ischief sparking in his eyes.

  “Now, I mentioned kidnapping you for the weekend. That makes you my prisoner.” He winked.

  Before she knew what was happening, he lifted her and tossed her over his shoulder. Derek carried her into the main salon, heading forward, and then down the stairs.

  “Put me down,” she teased. She beat at his back, playfully.

  “Silence wench.” Derek smacked her ass. Not a playful tap, it stung.

  “Hey, that hurt!”

  “Stop hitting me, prisoner,” he ordered with a laugh. “Every time you strike me, I’ll smack that pretty ass. Now stop wiggling.”

  He smacked her again, pulling a screech from her lungs. Playful or not, that hurt, and hell if she didn’t find it more than a little arousing.

  Derek carried her down the corridor, heading forward. She tested him, pounding his back and kicking her heels. The three smacks he landed on her ass had her crying out and struggling to breathe.

  His throaty chuckle rumbled deep in his throat. “You were warned. Do it again, and you’ll land over my knee. I promise the next ones won’t be light taps.”

  Light taps? Her ass burned from those light taps.

  “You’re insufferable,” she teased, enjoying his play.

  “Absolutely, completely insufferable. Now, will you behave, or do I need to tie you down to keep you from escaping?” He opened the door to his stateroom and placed her on her feet. He kept his arms wrapped around her where she couldn’t move. Not unless she fought him.

  She wasn’t ready to jump into ropes and all that implied but didn’t want to ruin the moment by stating her fears.

  “You wouldn’t?”

  “Not only would I, but I’d love to. Tell me, have you ever been tied up during sex?” The expression on his face was completely sincere.

  “No.” She bit her lower lip and looked anywhere but at him.