Chasing Chelsea (Masters of the Castle)

by Maren Smith

  Walk away.

  Kade couldn’t make himself move. He just kept standing there, staring at her, hoping she’d lift her head and look back at him. She didn’t. She just shook her head.

  “Take her back to her room and make sure she stays there,” Marshall told the two security men from the hall, who had trailed them into this meeting.

  One took Be—Chelsea by the arm, and that cold fist in his gut cracked just a little by the roughness with which he hauled her to her feet. It should have been very easy at this point to walk away, but every one of his basest instincts was demanding instead for him to grab her back out of that man’s hand and yank her in close to him. To protect her, keep her safe, do whatever he had to do to get that scared look off her face and replace it with one of those gorgeously unguarded smiles of hers.

  But she wasn’t the woman he thought she was, so he just stood there, watching as she was led away and hearing it again: Don’t call me that…

  He didn’t know who she was, who he had been playing with the last few days, who he’d fallen in love with…

  But, did she know him any better? Did anyone in this place really know whom he or she was playing with? Anonymity—it was everything, and in the last few years he’d damn near shrouded himself in it, numbed himself with woman after woman after unknown woman until all he could feel now was the suffocation of years and years’ worth of drowning in the shallow anesthetic of one night stands and no strings attached sex.

  Kade stabbed his fingers through his hair again. He was standing in a room full of the only people in the world he considered his friends and he couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt more alone.

  He couldn’t stay here. He couldn’t keep doing this—not one more year; not one more night.

  “Kade?”

  He turned and looked at Marshall. He felt numb.

  “Did you hear me?” the Master of the Castle was eyeing him oddly. “I said we’re going to put this to a vote.”

  “No.” Kade shook his head. “I won’t be voting. I’m not…impartial, so I won’t stay. But, I do want to say one thing.”

  Marshall tipped his head, waiting.

  “My mother named me Walter Francis after the two men she thought might be my father. I hated them both so much, when I turned eighteen I legally changed it.”

  “Your point?” Jackson drawled.

  “Nobody goes by their real name here.”

  “Nobody gets to steal someone else’s identity, either,” Parker interjected.

  “She didn’t steal their identity. She dug a prepaid vacation out of the trash after they stupidly threw it away.”

  “We were wondering why she spent those first few days avoiding everything.” Jackson arched an eyebrow at Marshall.

  “Nobody comes to the Castle to read a book,” he muttered. “I knew there was something wrong, but I never would have guessed this.”

  “It could have been worse,” Jackson said. “She could have been an actual thief.”

  “How do we know she wasn’t?” Sam asked.

  “She never once tried to work me,” Kade told them.

  “Or me,” Marshall acknowledged.

  Tsking, Jackson raised his head. “Or me.”

  “But how do you know that?” Parker asked again. “Would any of us even know if we were being worked by an experienced con artist? What if she’s just very good? How would we know for sure?”

  “I’d know,” Kade said.

  One of the twins scoffed.

  “Of course, you would,” Travis agreed. “After all the women you’ve played—”

  “That’s not being helpful,” Marshall snapped when Kade stiffened. “Actions speak louder than words.”

  Trevor shrugged one shoulder. “So?”

  “So, Kade’s right.” Marshall picked up her file, waved it once and then slapped it back down on his desk. He looked at all of them. “What have her actions said? She spent the first few days avoiding everyone and everything. We had to drag her into every event she’s been to—Selena dragged her into the wedding. I dragged her out of the garden where she was what—reading! Kade dragged her into the masquerade. She’s left no footprints here. She ate at the buffet, but never at the Master’s Table where the meals are more expensive. She didn’t buy anything at the gift shop and Kade paid for the scene and, apparently, one cake ball at Sinclair’s Candy Shop. The only thing she did was play Candy Crush in the media room and send some emails.”

  “I don’t think she had any malicious intent at all,” Jackson said.

  “But that doesn’t mean we should let her get away with it, either,” Marshall added.

  Kade bristled. He wanted to argue, but a definite wrong had been done and reparation would have to be made. He was nowhere near impartial enough to decide what should be done.

  “Kade?”

  Everyone looked at him. He shook his head. “Do what you want. Like I said, I’m not voting.” He couldn’t stand here and listen to it happening around him, either. Especially if it went badly for her. He didn’t want to know what they decided, so he headed for the door.

  “Don’t go far,” Marshall called after him, disapproval once more tainting his tone. “We still have to talk about the other issue.”

  Kade turned when he reached the door, glancing once through the room at all the men he considered his friends. He hated to lose them; he never had been one to make friends easily, but he just couldn’t see himself stretching this out any further than it had already gone. “I think I can help with that decision too: I quit.”

  “Whoa, wait.” Marshall stood up.

  “Kade,” Jackson sighed. At the same time, Sam said, “Kade, wait…”

  But there was no point in waiting.

  He opened the door, quickly sidestepping to avoid being run over by the pastel mob of women in full masquerade masks and gowns who came charging into the office past him. Kaylee was in the lead, but not by much. Selena was fast on her heels, followed by Sara and Sinclair.

  “Excuse us,” Hannah said as she squeaked by him.

  “No,” Sam said, coming up off the couch when he saw her.

  Jackson stood up too, dodging most of the women until he could hook Sara’s arm, pulling her out of the group. “This is not appropriate,” he told her, walking her back to the door.

  “Darling,” Marshall said, his voice rising over the women’s instant protests, “I love you dearly, but now is not the time.”

  “We have never, ever interfered with how you run the Castle,” Kaylee told him. “But before you do whatever it is you think you have to do, we have something to say and you will listen to us first.”

  “The real authority behind the throne,” one of the twins smirked.

  “One more comment like that,” Parker said, pushing away from the bookcase, “and you can both go back to dancing in the strip club we found you in.”

  Marshall didn’t grace either comment with a reply. He shook his head at Kaylee, the resolution of his expression already softening by the slightest of degrees. “All right,” he told her. “Let’s hear it.”

  Having already said his piece, Kade didn’t stay to hear the rest. Nothing any of them could say was going to change his mind. He couldn’t do this anymore. He wasn’t happy and hadn’t been for a very long time. He needed something different.

  He needed Red. Chelsea, Beth…whatever her name was. He needed her.

  As if that would ever happen.

  Shutting the door on the rest of the meeting, Kade left.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Kade sat on the foot of his bed, staring aimlessly out the window for the very last time. How was it that a man could live in a place for four years and still be able to pack everything he needed into a single duffel bag? Admittedly, it was a large duffel bag, and he hadn’t packed everything he owned, but it was everything he needed—his civilian clothes, a few pictures, a few papers, but that was pretty much it. He didn’t need toys. He didn’t need fripperies. He had
no idea where he was going to go. Kansas, maybe. Being from there, maybe it was time to see what had become of the old homestead he’d inherited from his grandparents. He hated baling hay and so much for never working with cattle again, but at least it would be a change.

  A two-rap knock at the door broke the silence. Not that there was a lot of silence in his room to begin with. Nymphs were playing in the pool right below his bedroom window—laughing, splashing, playfully beguiling visiting guests and one another to come into the water.

  They were probably naked. Funny, how he wasn’t even tempted to look.

  When no hail was forthcoming, after a moment, the door opened and Marshall stuck his head inside. He looked at the duffel bag on the bed behind him and then came into the room. “All packed, I see.” Kade nodded. “Would it be a complete waste of breath to try and convince you to stay?”

  Nodding again, Kade sighed. “This has been coming for a while actually. I just…I don’t feel it anymore. I don’t feel anything.”

  Marshall drew a deep breath, then folded his arms across his chest. “It’s been a helluva day, I’ll tell you that. Jackson tried to quit too. Seems he and Sara are expecting.”

  “Oh,” Kade breathed. Covering his eyes, he shook his head, laughing. “Should I congratulate them or invite them along? What the hell kind of place is this for kids?”

  “No place,” Marshall agreed. “Which is why I’ve decided to take the back ten acres and build real homes. Not everyone will get one. Just those of us who started this place, the ones I can’t bear to lose. Jackson and Sara will get the first house. He won’t be the first on the scene if he gets called out of bed in the middle of the night, but he’s willing to make that compromise. Sam and Hannah will take the next house. Parker says Sinclair wants to stay close to her shop, so they’ve opted to stay here for now. Kaylee and I are as yet undecided.” Marshall gave him a meaningful look. “What do I have to do to make you happy, Kade?”

  Like a house would change anything for him. “You could call me a taxi so I don’t have to wait for the next bus,” Kade said dryly.

  Marshall tsked. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Would it make any difference at all if I told you we decided not to press charges against her?”

  “I’m glad,” Kade admitted, but he still shook his head. “But I’m still leaving.”

  “Would it make any difference if I told you we’ve decided the best way to get our money back out of her is via one kink scene at a time?”

  Blinking twice, Kade turned sideways on the bed to look at him. His eyes narrowed at Marshall. “What?”

  “You heard me.” For the first time, the Master of the Castle cracked a small smile. “Against most of our better judgments, we’ve decided we’re going to hire her.”

  * * * * *

  “What?” Chelsea asked, certain she couldn’t have heard that right.

  “You heard me,” Sinclair said cheerfully. “Nine-fifty an hour, full time work, apartment here on the premises if you want it as part of your benefits package. Trust me, this is a pretty cushy deal.”

  “Right up until you realize you can’t call in for snow days,” Hannah interrupted. “I know. I’ve tried.”

  “Ugh,” Sara added. “Or sick days, and trust me, don’t try to fake being sick. You will get sent to the ‘doctors’.” She quoted the air with her fingers. “By the time they’re done with you, you’ll never look at a medical office the same way again.”

  Chelsea stared at her sideways. “That’s scary.”

  “You have no idea,” Kaylee said. “These guys are nothing if not devious when it comes to getting back at—” She stopped. Glancing at Chelsea, she thought better about whatever she’d been about to say. “Uh…I mean…”

  “Yeah,” Chelsea said warily. “Tell me again why I should take this job?”

  “Because it’s a job,” Sinclair said practically.

  “And a place to live,” Selena added, brightening. “We really will be sisters!”

  “And it’s really not so bad,” Sara said, sinking down on the side of the bed beside her. “Now that you’re one of the sisterhood, you’ll see, the guys take care of their own.”

  “It’s got to be better than going to jail,” Hannah added. “You’ll work at the candy shop during the day and pay back what you owe the Castle at night.”

  “You’ll have to say goodbye to the fancy dresses, though.” Picking up the carefully wrapped box that she had come in with, Kaylee passed it to her. “The big boss says you have to wear this until the ledger is balanced out.”

  Laying the box across her lap, Chelsea didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she’d pulled the ribbon and lifted the top. When she parted the flimsy paper, it all came whooshing out of her with a groan. She lifted out the very skimpy slave girl outfit.

  “Welcome to the sisterhood,” the women said in unison. They laughed at one another.

  Shaking her head, more at herself for not hating the prospect anywhere near as much as she knew she probably ought to, Chelsea gave in. “Okay,” she sighed. “What do they want me to do?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  The 101 room was packed full of people and Chelsea was waiting at the head of it, standing on the stage for all to see her. Flogging was the sign on the door, and she was nervous as hell. She didn’t know what that might entail, but there was a giant wooden X on the stage behind her and every time she looked at it, all she could think about was the medieval punishment by the same name. She really, really hoped that wasn’t what was about to happen to her, because the very idea of it was scary as hell. It didn’t sound fun at all, but then, neither did a lot of the “classes” on the 101 list she’d been given. Spanking—okay, she’d liked that one. But flogging and caning? Sensory deprivation? High protocol—what the heck was that? Tomorrow she was scheduled for two classes on forced orgasms. On Friday, it was ice and food play. On Sunday, she was getting waxed. That couldn’t possibly be what it sounded like.

  A shiver—part fear, part thrill—shuddered through her. She could worry about those classes later. Right now, she had to get through flogging. Her very first 101. She didn’t want to back out. She wanted to do a good job so Marshall wouldn’t have cause to regret his leniency, but her knees were shaking and she couldn’t stop looking at the clock on the wall. They were a few minutes late getting started already. She had no idea where the new permanent 101 instructor was, or even who he was, but she hoped he was nice. She hoped he was gentle, too, and that he’d take it easy on her, at least to start. She hoped—

  The door to the room flung open with a bang and Kade came striding in. “Yar har, me mateys. There be a disobedient wench in this room who needs settin’ to rights, and I mean to have her beggin’ me fer mercy a-fore the hour is through.”

  Chelsea almost lost her composure to a very Selena-like shriek. She clapped both hands over her mouth to keep it back.

  His eyes, so dark and hot, stayed locked with hers as he marched down through the well-packed audience. He hopped both steps to land on the stage beside her. “Hello, Red.”

  “You’re the new 101 instructor?” She stared at him in equal measures of joy and disbelief. “Selena said you quit.”

  “Yeah, well.” His dark eyes drank her in. “As it turns out, there might just be something to hold me here after all.”

  The suggestive curl of his mouth made her heart skip.

  Looking only at her, Kade raised his voice to address the guests who sat watching and waiting before them. “Today’s lesson is flogging. I’m going to walk you through the pleasures, the pain, the positions and the mindset that—from warm up to finish—make this one of the most alluring scenes in the whole of BDSM, particularly when the submissive involved loves and trusts her Dom.”

  Her stomach quivered, yielding a delicious bloom of heat that spread out on liquid waves to tickle at her clitoris and dampen her sex.

  Lowering his voice again, Kade asked, “Do you trust me, Red?”r />
  Her heart gave another fluttering leap. “Yes, Master Kade.”

  She was glad he’d asked the latter. She didn’t know if she was brave enough yet to admit to the former.

  He held out his hand, palm up, steady for her to take. His voice was a tangle of dark silk, soothing her even as it tied her up from the inside out. “Don’t be afraid.”

  “Of the big bad wolf?” She was trembling when she took his hand, but the way his strong fingers pulled her in, safe and close, gave her all the courage she needed to lift her chin and say, loud enough for everyone there to hear, “I just might be more than you can handle.”

  He was so very dangerous, more so than any other man she had ever known. Damn near deadly, if only just to her. His smile grew. “Challenge accepted.”

  She hoped it always would be.

  The End.

  Maren Smith

  “Hi, I'm Maren. I'm 30, married to a wonderful, dominant man, and have five four–legged children: two dogs and three cats. I love strong, authoritative men–men who are both ready and willing to leave the lady of their choosing red–bottomed and weeping and for her own good. Writing has given me the wonderful freedom to explore my spanking side without feeling 'weird.' Even better, with the invention of the Internet, I can write what I love and know it will be appreciated by people with the same interests.”

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