From beneath him, she followed his movements through half-lidded eyes, loving how his muscles strained, his body trembled and how when he came, he threw his head back and shouted his pleasure. Tears rolled unchecked down her face at the beauty of him, of the moment, and the way they came together in perfect sync as if the year apart had never happened.
When he opened his eyes, his features tightened with concern.
“Happy tears, Sean,” she was quick to reassure. “Thank you for this second chance, I promise I won’t need a third.”
Leaning down, he caught her mouth in a tender kiss. “I’m counting on that. For us, I’m convinced that instead of a third, we’ll make the second time lucky.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Bright morning sunshine filling the room woke her. Rolling over, she stared up at the vaulted ceiling, painted in a soothing butterscotch color. Unsure where she was, she bolted upright. As she took in the large bedroom, her eyes went wide as memories assailed her. The sleigh bed was as she remembered and matched the mirrored dresser, as well as the massive armoire in the corner and the tall chests on each side of the arched doorway. They’d picked everything out together after they’d moved to San Antonio. The cozy love seat and chair with the plush area rug that sat in front of a huge stone hearth had once been in their den. Except for the dark brown sheets, everything in the master suite had come from their home.
Emotions welled in her throat at the significance of what Sean had done. Even after she’d left him and he’d bought a new house, he kept the things they’d shared, sleeping in the same bed. Despite the new address, it was familiar and comforting, like a warm, soft blanket. He’d brought her home.
Sounds from outside—car doors slamming and men talking—caught her attention. Pushing back the covers, she padded on bare feet to the front windows. Peeking out on the circle drive, she saw four SUV’s. Despite being unmarked, she knew they belonged to Rossi. The men all drove huge black Ford Expeditions with tinted windows and bulletproof glass. Movement toward the end of the long drive caught her eye. Two more SUV’s were parked inside the wrought iron gates with two armed men standing nearby. Beyond that, a crowd had gathered, some held cameras with long zoom lenses. Recalling she was naked, she stepped back quickly, out of sight.
“You need to stay away from doors and windows, Mara.”
Turning, she found Sean entering with a tray balanced in his hands. He kicked the door closed behind him and moved to set her breakfast on the nightstand. From the bedside, he held out his hand.
“Come here, baby.”
Immediately compliant, she walked to him, albeit rather stiffly. Her leg wasn’t quite right yet, always tight in the mornings. Disregarding her nudity, she went to him. Any shyness she may have had around him, erased by the nearly two weeks they’d spent in Galveston. Like the honeymoon, they’d never had, they spent almost all of their time undressed and intimately involved. Except for the few times they’d ventured out, Mara had worn a satin robe at most, Sean a pair of loose fitting shorts. They’d also tested out every item in the DIY BDSM toy kit, even the ginger and peppermint oil. Sean had enjoyed trying out both on her nipples and clit, not at the same time, of course. She was thankful that he’d refrained from inserting either in undesirable places, although when she writhed and squirmed as those places warmed deliciously, he hadn’t ruled it out in the future.
The thought of having the gnarly, burning root in her bottom, made her pussy tingle and her nipples grow taut. Being naked, he was bound to notice as she drew nearer. If he did, he didn’t say as he caught her hand and hauled her close.
“The paparazzi have long range lenses, Mara, and though I prefer you this way, I’d rather not see your naked body on the front of some scandal rag.” His hand cupped a full bottom cheek and squeezed gently.
“The voices woke me. I didn’t expect reporters.”
“That’s a generous term. Those are vultures seeking out a salacious story and pictures to sell papers. In the absence of the first and garnering a scandalous second, they’ll make something up to achieve the third.”
He sat on the bed, arranging several pillows against the headboard before settling back and pulling her onto his lap. His hand came up to the back of her head and pulled her mouth to his. After a thorough exploration, he cradled her against his chest. Sighing deeply, he murmured, “It’s good to be home.”
Her head popped up. “The furniture, Sean. It’s like coming home.” He returned her gaze silently, his fingers combing through her hair. “Why did you keep it all after you moved?”
“I couldn’t bear to part with it. As long as I had it, I felt like I still had a part of you.”
“Oh, Lucky.” Her breath hitched.
“Don’t. Things are going to come up, but we keep moving forward.”
She nodded, although the weight of her guilt dragged upon her. Blinking fast against the sting in her eyes, she settled against him, her cheek to his chest. “Why are there photographers at the gate? How does anyone know I’m here?”
“Some of the stalkerazzi had the place staked out. When they saw activity, word spread.”
“You don’t seem upset by it.”
He shrugged. “It’s like added security. With all those cameras out front, no one is going to slip by undetected and will think twice before trying.”
“But I thought it was safe to come home with both Victor and Esteban in jail. Your team and the task force have practically eliminated the threat. With the top dogs out of the picture and several of the lieutenants, no one is left. If someone does emerge as the leader, why would he come after me and risk losing what ground he’d gained if Victor and Esteban go free?”
“I’m not taking any chances.”
“So it’s safe?”
“Yes, but you’re still on lockdown. You don’t go anywhere without me, or a detail that I set up for you. With the security we have in place here, I can keep you safe even if the Mendoza’s know where you are.”
“Where would I go?” She had no job, no family, and no friends anymore, except— “Can I have visitors in?”
“You’re not a prisoner in solitary, Mara. Tell me who you want to see and I’ll make the arrangements.”
“Lexie and Joanna.”
He nodded, handing her a cup of coffee from the tray. “I’ll give Pete and Jonas a call and set it up.” He picked up his own mug and took a sip. “I wanted to get you a phone today, but I’m not sure we’ll have time.”
“I have nothing on my calendar except free time.”
“That was before I took over. I’ve scheduled a physician visit this morning to check on that leg, it’s awfully weak. I also want to ask about starting physical therapy. After that, I need to go to Decadence and get caught up on a four-week backlog. Tomorrow is as busy. You’ve got meetings with your attorney and the federal prosecutor.” He reached over to the tray and picked up a bagel, cinnamon and raisin, slathered in brown sugar and cinnamon swirled cream cheese, her favorite.
“Eat that and the other half. You’re too thin. I’ll ask the doctor about that as well.”
His hand rested on her bare thigh as he sipped his coffee. After she popped in the last of her bagel half, her hand dropped to his. The contrast between the two was striking, his big, tanned strong hand against her smaller, paler, and more delicate one.
“Thank you for taking such good care of me. Except for the year we were together, I’ve never had that.”
“As long as I have something to say about it, you’ll be as pampered as a prized pet.”
Pampered sounded nice, but she wrinkled her nose at the pet part.
He fingered a coppery curl that lay across her bare breast. “I like the red. Are you going to keep it?”
“For a while, it’s growing on me.” Then she giggled.
“What’s funny?”
“That I’m lucky you picked red instead of pink.”
He chuckled as he rolled from the bed. Striding to the huge walk-in c
loset, he called out his orders. “Finish your breakfast, and get dressed. Your appointment is in an hour and we’re due at the club by two o’clock.”
“I’m going with you?”
At the door, he paused, looking back. “What part of you being my shadow, don’t you get?”
Not waiting for an answer, he disappeared inside.
She’d always enjoyed being with him at the club. This would be different, seeing him work behind the scenes. Her smile faded as she remembered. Her old friends would be there, the ones who believed she was a spy, a cheater and a blackmailer. Appetite gone, she left the rest of her breakfast on the tray, untouched.
Chapter Twenty-four
Standing inside the door, Mara sipped her smoothie as Sean moved around his office, setting his coffee cup down, switching on the lamp on his ginormous dark oak desk and powering on his computer. He said she was stuck to him like glue until the trial was over, which meant at home and at work. So here she stood, uncertain, on the outside looking in.
If the set up was the same, Dex was like the CEO and Sean the operations director. Dex saw to the membership, educational classes, supervision and scheduling of the dungeon monitors. As the Master Dom, he dealt with new member orientation and the training program for new Doms. Rule enforcement and mentoring fell to all the owners, as well as security. That left Sean to deal with business contracts, staff, facilities, equipment and management of the bar and lounge.
He said he’d assign her some duties, but she had no idea what she could do to help. Math was never her strong suit so bookkeeping was out. She could type and do some filing she supposed, but her office skills were minimal. Her nursing expertise wouldn’t be useful, nor would the other few she possessed like shopping, following package directions in the kitchen, and frankly those that would be better utilized out in the main room than an office. She grimaced, feeling less than valuable in any capacity.
“What was that frown about?”
Her head swung around to find him propped against the front of his desk, arms crossed over his chest, head tilted just a hint as he watched her.
“I was thinking how my secretarial skills are sadly lacking.”
“No problem. We have an office assistant. I have other duties in mind for you.”
“Really? Like what?”
“Finish that up, and I’ll tell you.”
She rolled her eyes, but did as she was told, slurping up the rest of her strawberry-banana, high-protein yogurt smoothie. She smiled at him and shook her empty cup when she was done.
“Good girl.” He took it from her and shot a three-pointer into the trash.
“Seven-hundred calories, one of those a day and I’ll be fat and sassy before you know it.”
“Perfect. You know I love curves on a mouthy woman who needs a good thrashing.” He reached a long arm out and grabbed her hand, yanking her toward him as she giggled. “Before we get distracted, we have serious business to conduct.”
“We do?”
“Yes.” Lifting her, he turned and plunked her down on his massive desk. Reaching behind her, he picked up a stack of papers. “Your limit list. Let’s review.”
Mara scanned down the first page, only casually perusing the other two. “This looks about right,” she said and handed it back to him, or tried to. When he didn’t take it, she glanced up. Anger, quick and fierce like a flash fire, blazed in his eyes.
“I’m serious about this. You either get the same way fast, or you’ll find your ass blistered while you spend the next month filing and making copies instead of playing out on the main floor.”
“But, Lucky, I told you my limits haven’t changed.”
“Really? Let’s take a look.” He took the forms from her and flipped to the third page. “Listed under extreme play as ‘willing to try’ is forced sex, multiple partners, rough gang bang and rape fantasy. Shall I schedule something for tonight? I’m sure I can round up at least four volunteers.”
“What?” Mara cried in horror as she made a grab for the list. “I don’t remember marking any of those!” Sean held them out of reach as he bent forward, leaning in until he was at eye level and practically nose to nose.
“That’s because I made it up.”
Her mouth turned down. “That was mean.”
“Maybe, but I was trying to prove a point. You have no idea what’s on this list.” He lifted her off the desk, grabbed a pen and with the papers in one hand and her wrist in the other, towed her along to the couch. “Your task is to sit here and review your list—carefully, meticulously, line by line—as I asked the first time.”
When she sat as ordered, he handed her a red pen.
“I expect you to take your time, answering each question honestly. Got it?”
“Yes, Master. I got it.”
“Good.” His hand came to her chin, tilting her head back. When he spoke, the explosiveness had disappeared. “This is part of our transparency, nightingale. I’ll be at my desk working if you have any questions.”
She nodded. As he walked away, she sucked in a breath to calm herself. She wouldn’t underestimate Sean’s commitment to their new D/s lifestyle again. Bending her head, she scanned the first page, skimming over the first few activities on the list; anal sex, anal beads, breast sex, butt plugs. It was all pretty standard and she had answered yes to all of it the first time around. Then she noticed the header at the top of the page read novice activities. She didn’t recall the list being so lengthy. The next page listed intermediate play. All the items had been marked and initialed in her handwriting, but she must not have given it much thought at the time since edging was marked as willing to try and she hadn’t even found out what that was until last week. Little did she know it was orgasm control and Sean had been using it on her since almost day one. She flipped to page three. As she quickly scanned the page, her eyes flared wide and she flipped back to the beginning.
“That isn’t what I had in mind by line by line, Mara.”
Her head came up. “I’m scanning.”
“Mm-hm,” was his guarded response without looking up from his laptop. “If you run out of time before our appointment, you can finish up afterward.”
“Our appointment, but I assumed—”
“Baby, I mentioned it in the car on the way over.”
He’d told her he had a training session scheduled with a new Dom on impact play. She assumed she’d wait for him in his office doing whatever tasks he assigned. Stuck like glue obviously wasn’t a euphemism. Silently, she shrugged, watching a training session would be a lot more fun than working on her list. Frowning, she returned to it.
An hour later she wasn’t half done. She hadn’t changed much, her hard limits—most of which were listed on page three—remained the same: edge play (knives, fire play, and all the really scary stuff that could be life threatening) extreme pain, body modification, breath control, and blood and body fluids. The last one was a big fat no, because first, ew, and second, it was too much like work. The rest of the three-page document she hesitated over, second-guessing every one of her previous answers.
The most difficult section of all was group play. She had checked no experience but willing to try way back when the club first opened, but that was a lie and now Sean knew it. She remembered it being a soft limit for him, which meant he hadn’t ruled it out. He’d never asked it of her in the past but they were new at that time and Sean was possessive. He hadn’t considered sharing with the Doms in D.C.
“She is mine—exclusively.”
His words at the time had been emphatic. Did he feel differently since learning her history, particularly about the ménage scene? She swallowed tightly. They hadn’t discussed much of his sexual history, but he had admitted to being in threesomes before and considering he was a Master and ran a successful sex club, she expected his experience was extensive. He had never wanted to get into the details and she certainly wouldn’t have wanted to reciprocate if he had, but she had to wonder.
He
r mind drifted back to the awful day Joanna and Lexie had come to visit, after Sean had brought her here to recover. He had already left out of frustration, leaving her alone as she’d asked. They had been livid, perceiving his departure as neglect despite having left her in the care of professionals. Joanna had immediately gone into rescue mode. She’d called the home care agency Sean had hired and told them not to come back. In the blink of an eye, she’d taken her to her home and set her up in her guest room, all without a word to Sean.
He’d arrived within the hour, however, and an argument ensued. For the most part, the voices were muffled, but she recognized Sean and later more men had arrived, the general being one. With her room so far away, she couldn’t determine any others and their conversation was mostly unclear. At one point, Joanna’s usually soft, melodic tone had become angry rising unmistakably above the low hum of the men. She was chewing Sean up and spitting him out, accusing him of fucking everything in a skirt since she’d been gone.
Mara didn’t know why or how that had come up, but it had answered one of her unspoken questions and had hurt, terribly, cutting her to the quick. After that, she’d pulled the pillow over her head to keep from hearing more. She had no right to be jealous or expect him to have been abstinent, she’d left him and as far as she knew, they were divorced. Her acceptance of the harsh truth hadn’t kept all manner of scenes starring Sean and beautiful subs from flooding her thoughts.
Now, as she perused the list, she wondered how many of the activities he had performed before her or since. Things like group play, which was next on the list. The first question under the group heading was ménage. She was supposed to list the specific makeup of the trio she favored: MMf, MfM, FfM or Mff. Again, she vacillated as a vague picture of her and Sean with another woman popped in her head, it quickly morphed into a clear image of the woman riding him enthusiastically while she looked on at a distance. She flinched, stung as if by a fiery lash and she let out an unintentional whimper.
Second Time Lucky (Club Decadence Book 5) Page 28
