by Dakota Trace
He clenched jaw to keep from begging her to stay – to take the comfort he knew she’d offer. He had to be strong. “Life happened. You have Jude now and I’ve moved on.” At her silence he dug his fingernails into his palms. Desperation caused him to lash out. “For God’s sake, I don’t want you here!” He hadn’t realized his voice had risen until the sound of feet hurrying into his room broke the tension.
Standing at the foot of his bed, his nurse scowled, taking in the scene in front of her. “Visiting hours are over. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Mr. Beaumont needs his rest.”
A long put-out sigh escaped Olivia. “Of course, how foolish of us. I’m sorry if we might have disturbed your other patients. We arrived on a late flight and I’m afraid I just had to make sure he was still alive before I attempted to kill him.” A smile graced Olivia’s lips as she focused on the nurse.
Inwardly Micah groaned. He knew that look. If Olivia knew demands wouldn’t get her way, she wasn’t above resorting to charm. Peeking at the large imposing woman scowling at Olivia, he hoped she wasn’t buying Olivia’s act.
“Now that I know he’s still breathing, we will come back in the morning. I was understandably concerned when I heard my fiancé had been in an accident after visiting a brothel.” Her pleasant tone dropped into a confiding one, as she tried to coax the nurse to seeing her side of the situation.
He opened his mouth to protest. “Don’t believe her, ma’am. She’s not my…”
“He’s such a stubborn man. It’d be just like him to deny our relationship.” Olivia continued to talk over him. “Considering he took off all because of one little disagreement, I shouldn’t be surprised he’s denying it now. If I’d realized my wanting to wait until after the New Year so my mother could attend our marriage instead of having it before Christmas without her, would’ve caused this – I would’ve married him then. I never dreamed he’d go to a…” she lowered her voice. “…a lady of the night to satisfy his manly needs.”
When the nurse turned to glare at him, Micah wanted to groan. Ah hell, she’s buying Olivia’s cockamamie story.
“She’s not my fiancée! I haven’t seen her since before Thanksgiving!” Instead of endearing him to the nurse, his words had her frowning.
“Men can be very…difficult when they don’t get their way. They’ll even conveniently forget about the woman in their life if it suits them.”
Olivia glanced over her shoulder at the nurse. “Ah but don’t be too rough on him. We still love him, despite his little tantrum.” Leaning over him, he stiffened when Olivia’s lips brushed his ear as she pretended to tuck the covers around him. “You should’ve stayed with us, mal-chick, like I know you wanted, instead of running. All this pain could’ve been avoided. You’ve been mine since the first time I made you come.” Her eyes darkened with desire. “And I’m tired of waiting for you to realize it.” Her palm supported his neck as if she were adjusting pillow under it. To the nurse he knew it would only look like the act of a concerned fiancée, but he knew what she was doing. It was a subtle reminder of the play collar he once wore for her. Her eyes met his before she straightened – determination filling their depths. She gave the nurse a wink and slipped back into character. “He’s just going to have to get used to the idea that no other women will ever be able to give him what he needs...”
The nurse actually looked intrigued. “And what is it exactly you think he needs?”
Olivia glanced at him, before answering. “Why a good firm hand, of course.”
The nurse giggled and this time he did groan. He was so fucked.
* * * *
Brushing past Jude, Olivia stormed into the hotel room – the best accommodations she could find on such a short notice. Tossing her shoulder bag onto the foot of the bed, she paced in the narrow space between the bed and the wall. Even the sound of the door shutting followed by the click of the lock being turned didn’t stop her pacing. She issued the order without even looking in the direction of her sub.
“Present, pet.” The rustle of clothing assured her at least one man in her life was obeying without a fight. What the fuck am I going to do with Micah? What the hell happened to him besides the obvious? Her stomach heaved as she recalled the details on the incident report the nurse had shared with her. Concussion, multiple fractures to the ribs, deep lacerations to the back and upper torso, contusions on left and right thighs, ankles and wrists. Extensive trauma to the rectum.
Turning sharply, she nearly tripped over Jude. He knelt with his thighs spread, palms resting face up and his head bowed, every naked inch of him hers to do with as she pleased. She took a moment to savor the sight in front of her. From the top of his dark hair to the incredibly sexy toes hidden from her at the moment, she loved his body. Even with the brutal scarring on his right hip, he was perfect – perfect for her. No other woman would ever have him again, at least not as long as she drew a breath.
Crouching down in front of him, she traced a finger over the bobbing erection so blatantly displayed for her enjoyment. “Who do you belong to, pet?”
Without lifting his head he answered, his voice raspy. “I’m yours, Mistress.”
Wrapping her hand around the thick shaft, she stroked up and down loving the hiss escaping him. Even as his thighs trembled he didn’t move. He knew better.
“That’s right. You’re just as much mine as he is, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Mistress.” He didn’t ask for clarification of who she was talking about, but gave a muffled shout when she rewarded him by rubbing her hand faster along his cock. Just like her, Jude knew what – no, who was missing from their relationship.
“Then what do you suggest we do, pet? You read the report. Not only is he physically injured but the nightmares he’s having…how do we conquer them? How do we help him? How do we convince him to come home after what he’s been through – that we still need him?” While her voice had started out strong, she could hear the wavering as she finished. She’d kept up a strong confident façade in Micah’s hospital room, but now that it was just her and Jude, she was lost as to what to do.
Risking her wrath, Jude lifted his head and opened his arms, knowing without being told she needed to feel him around her more than she needed his submission. She wasn’t a Domme at the moment, but a woman hurting at the thought of one of the men she loved being harmed.
With a sob, she moved into his embrace, nearly knocking Jude over. The tears she’d kept at bay by sheer will alone burst free as his arms wrapped around her. It was times like this she loved his protective streak. The murmur of his voice against her temple as he rocked back and forth was soothing as he let her cry her eyes out. By the time her crying jag was over, she felt like a limp rag as the broad hand soothed up and down her back. The press of his lips against her temple made her feel loved.
“Shh, let me take you to bed, Mistress. Let me take care of you. We’ll figure out in the morning what to do with our stubborn mal-chick. We won’t give up on him. He belongs with us.”
“Promise?” She knew she was asking for a guarantee Jude couldn’t give her but after the turmoil of finding out Micah had been hurt, the flight which had been delayed twice, and Micah’s actions at the hospital, she was needy – and like always, her gentle giant gave her what she needed without thought to what it would cost him.
“Of course. I won’t rest until we have our Micah back.” She gave a slow nod as he rose to his feet still holding her carefully, an unbelievable show of his physical strength. As he gently stripped off her clothing, she was thankful he was with her. Moments later, with the light out and wrapped securely in Jude’s arms, she drifted off to sleep.
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Chapter Two
Sitting at the small drab table in their hotel room in front of his laptop, Jude looked up when his Mistress stepped out of the bathroom in a swirl of steam. With a miniscule hotel towel wrapped around her petite body, his cock responded with its typical vengeance, pressing ag
ainst the towel he’d wrapped around his waist after his own shower. It didn’t seem to matter where they were or what they were doing, he couldn’t help but respond to the woman who held not only his heart but a good part of his soul. As she bent over the open suitcase on the bed, he had to force himself to drag his eyes away from the tempting sight and back to the query running on his laptop.
Get a grip, Larson. Focus on finding out what happened to Micah.
Even thinking of the state he’d found his friend made him want to find the son of bitch responsible and beat the hell out of him. Something had happened between Micah and him as his friend had led him into the dark sensual world of BDSM. A bond had been forged and whether Jude liked it or not, Micah held the other part of his soul. They were kindred spirits and he’d remind the stubborn ass of the fact once he healed. Enough of his foolishness - it’s time to bring him home – where he belongs.
A beep of an incoming email drew him out of his thoughts. Clicking on it, he did a quick scan of the contents. His cheeks flushed as his suspicions were confirmed – a Mistress along with her slave had escorted Micah from the club the last time he’d been seen before his appearance at the emergency room.
“Son of a fucking bitch…why the hell didn’t you come home, you stubborn bastard? We would’ve given you exactly what you needed…you shouldn’t have gone looking elsewhere…” he muttered half under his breath, wanting to strangle - not just to wring his friend’s neck.
“What did you find, pet?” The feel of Olivia’s hand on his bare shoulder drew his attention away from the screen.
“Mistress Brigit finally emailed us.” His looked up at her. Even with him sitting while she stood, his head was nearly level with hers. “She did some checking around about the night Micah was last seen. It seems Micah did leave the club with a woman. A Mistress she wasn’t familiar with. Evidently she used a guest pass she got from a regular member. Brigit is still trying to get a hold of him. Seems he’s out of town at the moment.”
A low curse word in her native language slipped past Olivia’s ruby red lips. Lifting her hand to his mouth, he pressed an open-mouthed kiss against her knuckles.
“Not to worry, Mistress, she’s set Sampson on it and he could find a needle in a haystack. We’ll figure out what happened to him and see the person or persons pay for their abuse.” He turned in his chair, parted his thighs and drew her between them. Lifting her free arm, he draped it over his shoulders before pulling her closer, loving the scent of her shower gel.
A hiss escaped Olivia as her hands tightened against his flesh. He gave a slight wince but bore the pain without commenting. It was his job to soothe his Mistress.
“If I get my hands on who did this, I’ll kill them.” The venom in her voice didn’t surprise him. That was his Mistress – fierce, loyal and above all else protective of whatever she considered hers and both he and Micah were hers. Even if Micah had seemed to have forgotten the fact.
Jude leaned closer, wanting to refocus her attention before she got too worked up. And to do that I need to give her an outlet. “We don’t even know yet if the woman who was with him is the same one who abused him.” He nuzzled his face against her breasts, taking liberties sure to get him into hot water. “Remember the doctor said he didn’t come in until early yesterday morning and the abuse looked fairly recent.”
“True, but at least she’ll know what happened after he left the club.” A change washed over her – one he was more than familiar. She’d slipped into her bad-ass Domme mode. His loins tightened in response. “I seem to remember something else...” Her fingers ran through the damp curls at the base of his skull, before tightening enough to tug his head back. His breath caught at the erotic sting even as his lips parted. Under the terrycloth draped over his lap, his cock stirred in anticipation.
“Mistress?” He kept his tone even, letting the victory he felt at succeeding show, knowing she’d catch it with her all too observant eyes.
She scowled. “That’s right, pet. I’m in charge. And don’t think I forgot how forward you’ve been the last two days with your mistress. How free you’ve been your hands…touching without permission.” Her tone was cool but he knew if he looked, he’d see the puckering of her nipples against the towel.
“I’d expect nothing less from my Mistress…” Winking at her, he pushed a bit harder, hoping it wouldn’t backfire on him. “…sweetheart.”
Her face reddened and she jerked back. “Over the bed, now!”
“Yes, Mistress.” He stood and drew to his full height slowly, allowing the loosened towel to drop to the floor at his feet. Feeling no shame in his nudity, he did as his Mistress asked. Laying down gingerly on his semi erect-cock, he gave her a target to vent her frustration and anger at – his ass. He grunted when her palm landed hard on his left cheek, hitting only once before she traced what he was sure was the outline of her hand on his ass.
“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you, pet?” The certainty in her voice had him nodding. His ass stung as she landed another swat in the same place. “That’s not an answer!”
“Yes, Mistress, I did it on purpose.” He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Now finish it please. Surely that’s not all my formidable Mistress has in her.”
Her hands went to her hips. “And why should I? It’d be rewarding you for trying to top from the bottom.”
He searched her eyes. “Because you need it, and we both know whatever you need, I supply, Mistress. Take your frustrations out on my ass. I’m strong. I can handle it, and you’ll feel better.”
Her eyes welled up, and he panicked. Fuck I pushed too hard. He moved to roll over, and the harshness of her tone sent shivers down his spine and had him freezing mid-movement.
“How do you know me so well, pet?”
“Because you’re just as much mine as I am yours.” It was that simple in his mind. They belonged to one another, along with that stubborn son of a bitch recuperating in the hospital. But his time would come. “Do what you need – we’ll cuddle afterwards.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.
Her eyes narrowed. “Then count off, pet.” She raised her hand once more. He relished the sting as it landed on his ass.
“One, Mistress.”
* * * *
Micah was ready to bite someone’s head off. He glared as the doctor left the room. He couldn’t leave unless he had someone to sit with him. His frustration was at an all time high. He was sore, sick of being in this bed, and more than anything he wanted to be gone before his Mistress – no former Mistress he had to remind himself, returned. And he knew better than most Olivia was like a dog with a bone when she wanted something – and she wanted him to return to Chicago with her. His heart ached at the thought. Even as much as he wanted to go home with her, he couldn’t return to his former position in her life. He needed – no he deserved to have a mistress who wanted more than a play sub.
“I see they’re taking good care of you, my boy.”
The sultry woman’s voice from the door sent a fissure of fear coursing down his spine. He reached for the call light only to cry out as the man of his nightmares suddenly appeared at his bedside. Obscenely tall and outweighing Micah by nearly a hundred pounds with the skin the color of cream, a man he only knew as Leland, wrapped his hambone of a hand around Micah’s arm hard enough to send shards of agonizing pain up to his shoulder. His breath released in a hiss.
“Let go. I’ll scream.” He blanched when the man chuckled and twisted his grip. The pain intensified until he couldn’t contain his agony and moaned.
Leland moved closer, bending at the waist to speak into Micah’s ear. “It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve screamed for ole Leland, now would it? You screamed nice and loud when I buried ma’ cock deep in your little black ass.”
Struggling despite the pain, he tried to free himself, refusing to be the victim again.
“Enough.” After shutting and locking the door behind her, she stepped up next to the bed. His hope of
never seeing the woman he’d been foolish enough to leave the club with vanished. He knew her as nothing more than Mistress. At first she’d reminded him so much of his beloved Mistress, with her dark hair and ivory skin. She even wore a similar scent to Olivia’s. He’d hoped by going home with her and her submissive, she’d replace the ghost of his former lovers and he’d be able to recapture the connection he’d felt in their bed.
“Mistress, please…” Leland straightened. The flash of pleading lust flickering across his face had panic building in Micah’s system.
“Not now, lover.” She cocked her hip against the railing of the bed. “You can play with him later. Right now, we need to remedy your mistake.” Holding up a shiny red PVC collar by its o-ring with one finger, the woman leaned forward until her nose was inches from his. “You forgot your collar, my boy.”
Anger pushed past his fear. He pressed his head back against the pillows. “No way in hell. I didn’t wear a permanent collar for my other mistress and I’ll be damned if I wear one now. I’m not yours!”
