Show Me, Baby: A Masters of the Shadowlands Novella (1001 Dark Nights)

by Cherise Sinclair

  “That’s bullshit,” Cory snarled. “You—”

  Rainie never looked away from Bart. “Cory kicked me out of the office. That was on a Friday. The next night, he showed up at my apartment, and he was high on drugs. Probably coke. He told me…”

  Her gaze met Tilly’s, and her voice closed down.

  God, she couldn’t do this. Not to that sweet woman. Rainie tried to take a step back and bumped into Jake.

  He put an arm around her waist, anchoring her against his side as he spoke to Tilly. “Ma’am, I’m sorry to tell you this. Cory told Rainie that if she didn’t give him a blowjob, he’d fire her. He told her he could do anything he wanted, including fuck the staff.”

  “No. No,” Bart whispered. His eyes turned to Rainie. Appalled. Filled with pain.

  “I… Yes.” This was like kicking a helpless puppy. “Cory grabbed me, and Jake punched him.”

  “You fucking bitch! I never touched you!” Cory jumped to his feet. “And I’ve never met your asshole boyfriend.”

  “Want me to break your nose again?” Jake stepped around Rainie. “Sit. Down.”

  Rainie’s knees almost buckled. Cory dropped back onto the bench.

  Bart stared at his son’s bruises. “You said you’d fallen down.” The color drained from his face, leaving his lined skin gray. He sagged.

  As his wife took his hand, she was choking back sobs.

  Oh God, what had she done? “I’m sorry, Bart,” Rainie managed to whisper. “I’m so sorry.” She hesitated and then fled, pushing her way to the front door.

  “Rainie.” Jake followed her out.

  In the distance, thunder rumbled, and the palms lining the parking lot bent under the advancing storm.

  Rainie turned to face Jake. Another person she’d let down. He’d lost a dog at the clinic, and he’d needed her—and she’d used him. Ruined his evening with her own problems. She hadn’t helped him at all—because, once again, her past had returned. Hurting her. Hurting others.

  “I’ll take you home,” Jake said.

  “No.” She took a step back, distancing herself. “Thank you. Thank you for…for being here. But, I’m not good for you.”

  “That’s not true, Rainie.”

  “I want to be alone.”

  His jaw tightened. “I don’t—”

  She shook her head. “My choice.”

  As she walked away, she could feel the tie between them stretch and thin and disappear. The wind whipped at the tears streaming down her face, leaving only coldness behind.

  * * * *

  Jake watched Rainie as she sat at her desk in the clinic. She looked like hell. Her color was so pale he could see the blue veins at her temples, the shadows under her eyes. She moved as if even her muscles hurt.

  She’d undoubtedly spent the night suffering for Bart and his wife. Yes, she was the type to take on that guilt.

  Fuck, he wanted to hold her.

  Instead, he opened the fridge, grabbed a couple of energy drinks, and handed her a can. “You need that. Drink it.”

  She blinked at him and half smiled. “Your presentation lacks finesse, but thank you.”

  “You doing all right?”

  Her lips drew up into a wry smile. “The fact you fetched me an energy drink means I’m not going to win Miss America today, huh?”

  He smiled back. “Pretty bright, aren’t you?”

  “That’s me.” She pushed her hair out of her face. “Jake?”

  She hadn’t braided or coiled her hair today. Not that he’d complain. The way her hair fluffed over her shoulders made him remember burying his fingers in it. “Mmm-hmm?”

  Looking down, she opened the can. Turned it around in her hands. Finally said, “Last night, you heard what my old classmates were saying, and I was surprised at your reaction.”

  “Because I didn’t beat them up for you?”

  From her startled expression, she hadn’t even considered he might have defended her that way.

  Now he rather wished he’d mopped the floor with them. “I don’t try to defend against whispering. Open rudeness, yes. Behind the back is—”

  “No, God, no, I didn’t want you to… Sheesh.” Her hands closed on the can, denting it. “No, I simply noticed you weren’t embarrassed or—”

  “About what assholes are farting about?”

  At her appalled stare, he grinned. “Sorry for the crudeness.”

  “Well. Right.” Her fingers loosened. “It’s just… When people don’t like you and you’ll never change their opinion, it must be nice to not really care.”

  Jake’s eyes narrowed. Once again, he was realizing just how much she did care what others thought. “Rainie—”

  She straightened. “So, can you fit in a walk-in?”

  Totally changing the subject. He glanced at the waiting area, nodded to the three clients who waited with their pets, and answered, “I finished the buckshot extraction on the Doberman. So, yes, I should be able to take another.”

  The reception door opened and closed. “Jake,” a woman called across the room.

  Jake let out a sigh. The day lacked only this. “Nadia, what are you doing here?”

  “Why, I told you last night.” She glanced at Rainie, and her lips twisted into a smirk. “Remember? I said I’d drop by to take you to lunch.”

  As the bitch’s claws ripped through Rainie’s skin and ribs and heart, she forced her face blank. What Jake did with Nadia was his own business. After all, he liked the woman. Had left with her after the wedding. Rainie should wish them well.

  Not going to happen.

  She checked her blouse in case blood was leaking from the far-too-accurate heart shot. When Jake didn’t say anything, she looked up.

  Eyes narrowed, he regarded Rainie…reading with a Dom’s uncanny perception every single emotion she was feeling. Dammit.

  “Jake, honey, are you ready to leave?” Nadia asked, her voice thicker than cold molasses.

  Ignoring her, Jake touched Rainie’s cheek with a gentle finger, holding her gaze trapped for…forever.

  Finally, he straightened. “Nadia, last night when you called”—his glance at Rainie undoubtedly caught the surprise and relief on her face—”I said I didn’t have time for lunch. Or anything else you offered.”

  “Oh, Jake.” Nadia’s pout took full advantage of her well-collagened lips. She gave Rainie a look of disdain. “I certainly hope someone like her hasn’t come between us.”

  Jake gave a short laugh. “Nadia, there is no us. I dated you years ago, before you married. I have no interest in seeing you now. At all.”

  The whispers from the waiting room clients grew audible.

  Jake turned his back on Nadia, leaned a hip on the desk, and said to Rainie, “The lab work on Brennan’s rabbit came back, and I need to change the antibiotics. Can you get the owner on the line?”

  “I—of course. Right away, Sir.”

  His lips quirked at her submissive slip, but he simply opened a folder and flipped through the contents.

  The outer door made its distinctive hiss, and Rainie gave a quick glance up.

  Color almost purple, head held high, Nadia stalked out.

  The elderly man in the waiting room had his hand over his mouth, but his shoulders were shaking. The woman with the cat carrier winked at Rainie. The one with the poodle gave her a surreptitious thumbs-up.

  Rainie’s body hummed with amazement. Jake didn’t want the redhead. Eventually, her fingers managed to bring up Mr. Brennan’s file—without any mental input, thank goodness, since her brain had taken an extended leave.

  Annoyed with herself, she huffed out a breath.

  And Jake turned his attention back to her. The power in his gaze made her hands turn clammy. “Problem, Rainie?”

  “N-no, Sir.” Realizing she’d called him “Sir” again, she flushed.

  The sun lines beside his eyes crinkled, and he bent to whisper in her ear. “Did you know that each time you call me ‘Sir,’ you lighten
my day?”

  The resonance in his voice shivered through her, and then he disappeared into the treatment area, leaving her staring after him. God, she wanted him so badly. Thank goodness, she’d be gone before he sucked her into—

  Oh no. What had she done?

  The blood drained right out of her head with an almost sucking sound. She must have moaned, since Rhage came out from under her desk to press against her legs. As her fingers teased his soft ears, she tried to swallow past a dry throat.

  You stupid, senseless, slow-witted squid.

  Master Z had got her. Got her good. She watched her hand reach for the phone. Punch up the contact. Wait. Don’t answer. Don’t answer.

  “Shadowlands.” Master Z’s voice couldn’t be mistaken for anyone else’s. His power sizzled through all the miles between them, probably making the telephone wires shake as violently as she was.

  “This is Rainie,” she said almost in a whisper. Pull it together. She forced her spine straight…and watched her fingers tremble. “You…won, Sir. The bet.”

  “Indeed.”

  He let her hang for only an eternity or two before he said gently, “You will come to the Shadowlands on Friday at nine. Tell Ben to notify me when you arrive.”

  Total trust. Total submission. With Master Jake. Her gaze instinctively lowered as she whispered, “Yes, Sir.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  When Jake arrived at the Shadowlands, he swung by the bar where Raoul sat talking to Cullen. “Men,” Jake greeted.

  He received chin lifts.

  “I thought you said you needed time off,” Raoul said. “Did you change your mind?”

  He hadn’t. The Shadowlands held too many memories of Rainie. “Not exactly. Z asked me to stop in and talk to him.” And had refused to discuss the problem, whatever it was, on the phone.

  “He’s in the back.” Raoul nodded toward the rear of the club. “Near the cages.”

  “Thanks.” Jake slapped Raoul on the shoulder and headed through the room, walking past the various scenes, inhaling the scents of leather, light perfume, sweat, and fear.

  With Jessica curled in his lap, Z sat in a black leather chair, watching a newer Domme practice with a flogger. He noticed Jake’s approach and squeezed his submissive’s shoulder. “Can you give us a few minutes, kitten? I don’t want to put you in the position of keeping secrets from a friend.”

  Jessica frowned at him. “What evil thing are you up to now?” When her Dom didn’t answer, she gave a cute grunt of exasperation, then rubbed her cheek against Z’s in a pretty surrender.

  As the little blonde walked away with one hand on her rounded belly, Jake took a seat. “What’s up?”

  “Thank you for coming in.” Z picked up his drink. “Did Rainie mention our wager?”

  Rainie and Z? “No.” Jake shut his mouth on the questions and waited.

  “She thought you wanted to be with another woman—one more suited to your class. I bet her that you would demonstrate her error.”

  What the hell? “My class?”

  “Indeed.”

  Jake scowled. Rainie must have seen Nadia at the wedding. Nadia was beautiful; it was true. But Rainie seemed more comfortable in her own body than most women Jake had met, small or large. “What’s this ‘class’ bullshit?”

  Z steepled his fingers in consideration. “Has she spoken of her goals in life?”

  “I know she’s studied for a career in business. She wants a management position—a high status one.”

  “And why did she choose high status as a goal?”

  “Isn’t that what every businessperson wants?”

  “Not any more than all vets want to handle horses.” Z smiled slightly. “Her friends say she loves your clinic—the animals, the challenges, the people. My question—which she wouldn’t answer—is why she’d give up a job she loves to do something else. And why she said she had to ‘be more.’”

  Jake’s eyes narrowed. “Be more what? She’s already…” perfect. “I don’t understand.”

  “Nor do I. Which is why I made the bet.”

  Jesus, if Z made a bet with a submissive, the consequences could get ugly. Jake straightened. If Rainie were uncomfortable with the penalty, Z would damn well back off. “What are you going to make her do?”

  Laughter lit Z’s gray eyes. “She agreed to come here tonight to serve you in total trust and total submission.”

  “Me?”

  Z rose. “She’s in the dungeon waiting for you, Jacob. This might be a good time to get some answers.”

  As Z walked away, Jake stood…and sat back down.

  She had to serve him. To trust him—although she obviously didn’t or he’d know her background. She’d been reluctant to tell Bart about living with a drug dealer. Jennifer had mentioned the streets. Foster care. Running away.

  Most people were happy to confide their pasts, ugly or not. If Rainie was so reticent, was she…ashamed? He needed to know.

  And goals. The assholes the other night had really bothered her. And she wanted to be more.

  Jake stared at the wall. Z’s bet gave him one night—and there would be a lot to accomplish in only a few hours.

  Planning came first.

  And then he’d get some answers.

  * * * *

  Her knees hurt. Head down, Rainie shifted her weight from side to side. Behind her, someone used a paddle on their submissive, and the slapping of flesh was loud in the rock-walled dungeon room.

  How long had she been in here, anyway? Had Master Z forgotten her?

  No, he never forgot anything…except maybe a grocery-list item. Jessica’s report that the Master could be occasionally absent-minded had been a surprise.

  Because he was never inattentive in the Shadowlands.

  Maybe Jake didn’t want to see Rainie. At the dismal thought, she blinked back tears. Determinedly she turned her attention to the sounds around her—the moaning from the other side of the dungeon, the clip of a Domme’s heels. A sigh. A laugh.

  Boots appeared in her field of vision. Black, scuffed at the toes. Black jeans.

  Her heart lifted and actually bounced like a beach ball as her gaze rose. A heavy leather belt around trim hips. Broad shoulders under a black collared shirt—one of the slim-fit kind that showed off hard pectoral muscles and his narrow waist. Jake. My Jake.

  Only he isn’t. Why did she have to keep reminding herself of the fact? Why did each repetition hurt more?

  His top shirt buttons were open to show the tanned skin of his chest. His shadowed jaw was tight; he looked angry. Did he even want to be here?

  She dropped her eyes before meeting his gaze. Unhappiness was a solid lump under her sternum. Don’t cry. She dug her fingers into her thighs so the pain would drive her tears back.

  The bare skin dented under her nails. Bare legs, bare ass, bare everything. When Master Z had led her into the dungeon, he’d pointed to the corner and ordered, “Strip completely, kneel, and wait for Master Jake’s directions.”

  And now Master Jake was here.

  “So, you’re to serve me tonight with total trust and total submission,” Jake said. She got nothing from his voice—not sarcasm, not surprise, not enthusiasm.

  He didn’t sound like her Jake at all…because she’d hurt him more than she’d realized. More than she’d thought possible. The last thing she’d ever wanted to do was cause him harm. She bit her lip, wanting to beg him to understand that she wasn’t the right person for him.

  But he’d sent the perfect Nadia away. And come back and touched Rainie.

  She swallowed. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good enough.” He offered his hand to help her rise. “I’m in the mood to work you over hard, so this is fine timing.”

  A quiver of anxiety and longing lodged low in her belly. How pitiful that she’d let him do…anything…just to have him touch her.

  She followed him to the back corner. The wax play area was set up with a disposable covering on the bondage table.
The heavy stone table next to it held a lit candle.

  Wax could feel wonderful—or hurt like hell if the Dom was in a sadistic mood. How angry was Jake? But he’d never take out his anger on a submissive. He’d call off a scene first…wouldn’t he?

  “Rainie.”

  She dragged her gaze from the flame to look up into intent eyes. “Yes, Sir?”

  “Total trust?”

  She winced and let go of her doubts. “I’m sorry, Sir. I do trust you.”

  “You trust me with your body.” He helped her onto the table and positioned her on her back with firm, impersonal hands. “But not with your emotions. Or your past. Or your future.” His baritone had chilled to be as emotionless as his expression.

  I don’t like him this way.

  Yet his quiet accusation hit the bull’s-eye. The realization she’d deliberately hidden herself from him—from her Dom—was a blow severe enough to make her tremble.

  With deliberate movements, he pushed a wedge under her ass to tilt her hips up and wrapped cuffs around each thigh before clipping them to the side table hooks. As he tightened the straps, her knees were forced up and out to the sides—giving him an open pussy playground, especially after he positioned her butt on the table’s edge.

  Another band across her low abdomen ensured she couldn’t wiggle away from whatever he had planned.

  When he applied a forehead strap, she barely kept from whining. Not being able to move her head made everything seem far too restrictive. More straps went over her arms, crossing both above and below her breasts.

  He walked around the table, tightening or loosening the fastenings to an even snugness. “Your safeword is red. For cramping, numbness, tingling, or discomfort you can’t handle, use yellow. Understood?”

  “Yes, Sir.” Her heart grieved for the affection missing from his voice.

  “Excellent.” He stood close, filling her vision and blocking out the room. “You’re a beautiful, intelligent, loving woman, Rainie. Why do you think you’re not good enough for me?”

  The question dropped out of nowhere, a tornado ripping up her internal landscape and stealing her breath.