His Lady (Boston Doms Book 5)

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His Lady (Boston Doms Book 5) Page 13

by Jane Henry


  The thought of Josie flitted across his mind, and for the first time in a long time, he conjured her memory with no pain, no guilt. His sweet wife had been so strong, so gentle, so thoughtful. One day, not long before she’d passed, she’d taken his hand, as he’d sat by her bedside, and she’d begged him to take another submissive someday. Through her blog, she’d met several doms and subs who had lost their long-time partners or spouses, she’d told him, and she’d seen first-hand how hard it was for them to find fulfillment again, even when their grief had lessened, without that dominant/submissive bond in their lives. Knowing how strong his protective instincts ran, she’d hoped that someday Blake would find that connection with someone else.

  He’d scoffed, of course. The connection he’d had with Josie, that perfect rhythm born of decades of growth and friendship and love, could never be replaced. But she’d just smiled her quiet smile and said she hoped he’d be surprised.

  Blake imagined that Josie was right now laughing her ass off in Heaven, because he’d found that connection, all right. In the most unlikely of places.

  Blowing out one final breath, he pushed himself off the desk and turned to look at the woman who’d somehow managed to get under his skin, to challenge him in ways he hadn’t thought possible. She was standing two feet away with her hands clasped in front of her, knitting and unknitting her fingers as she watched him. She looked nervous.

  She should be.

  His rage had passed entirely, but his need to discipline her for what she’d done made his palms clench in anticipation.

  “Shoes off, jeans down. You’re going over my knee.”

  She inhaled a shaky breath… and to his shock, took a step away from him.

  “Blake, we need to talk first,” she told him.

  “Elena,” he warned. “You do not want to play this game with me right now.”

  “No game.” She shook her head. “I just think we need to wait a minute. I know you’re angry, but—”

  “I’m completely in control,” he told her truthfully. “I would never risk punishing you while I was too upset.” God, did she think he’d punish her while temper was still riding him?

  “No, no, I know you wouldn’t,” she assured him, taking a step closer and laying a placating hand on his forearm. “It’s just that I don’t think you should spank me. N-not now.”

  “Not… now?” He repeated the words slowly, like they were a foreign language. She was looking at him with a pleading expression on her face—not defiant, not scared, but weirdly hesitant. And for the life of him, he had no clue what she was trying to tell him.

  He grabbed the hand that rested on his arm and yanked her gently forward until her chest was touching his. He wrapped one arm tightly around her waist, while the other sank deep into her hair and pulled… hard.

  She cried out softly, but he ignored it.

  “You walked out there, Elena. Into a crowd of protesters.” His voice was rough, vibrating with tension. “Opening a Pandora’s box that can never be closed. Did you take even one second to consider how thoroughly they could fuck up your life with just a few phone calls to your employer, let alone what could happen if your identity gets spread online?”

  Elena glanced down. “No, sir,” she whispered.

  “And then, then, you delivered your little speech—”

  “I meant every word of that,” she said passionately, gazing back up at him, her eyes filled with tears. “They’re crazy if they believe the things they’re spouting.”

  “And what about the shit you’re spouting?” he roared. “Jesus Christ, Elena, you were about to call out the most notorious drug dealer in Boston!”

  “I watched the security feed after you left, and I couldn’t let them say those things about you!” she argued, but he could see the realization of what she’d done written on her face, the remorse in her eyes, even as she spoke. “It was bad enough when they were making up things about The Club, but I wasn’t going to stand there and listen to them tell lies about you! You’re the best man I know, Blake! The best man I know!”

  Her voice broke off in a sob as her tears spilled over, and Blake’s arms came around her. What the heck was this? “Elena, honey—”

  “I know,” she sniffled. “You’re right, it was stupid. I hadn’t considered any of the things you just mentioned.”

  “I told you to wait here,” he reminded her sternly, even as his hand rubbed up and down her back in a soothing way. “You know I would never want you to endanger yourself that way. Your safety is paramount. That’s a rule. And you broke it.”

  “I know,” she admitted again, lifting both hands to her face to wipe away her tears.

  “Then we’re fucking taking care of this. Now.” His voice grew harder. “Donnie is handling the police. We will not be disturbed. Tomorrow, we are going to have a meeting—you, me, Slay, Matt. We’re gonna get you security 24/7. We’re gonna talk to our lawyers about what you need to tell your employers so you can get ahead of any shit that might come of this. But before we do any of that, young lady, before we figure out how we’re gonna move on from this, we’re going to finish it. You take your jeans down and put yourself over my knee immediately, or your punishment will double.”

  He heard her breath catch, saw her eyes flare at the young lady.

  So she liked that just as much as he did. Good to know.

  She took a deep breath, swallowed once, and began to speak.

  “I can’t,” she said, holding up a hand when she saw his eyes narrow, felt his arms contract around her back. “Can’t, Blake. Not won’t. Because I do want to, really. I needed a spanking so badly before I even walked in here tonight, and I know, I can see, just how angry you are at me, and I know that a spanking would help clear the air before we figure out where to go from here, but… well… it’s just that sometimes there are certain positions that aren’t maybe the best idea, you know? A-and I don’t have a lot of experience… or, you know, any experience really, but I’ve researched BDSM pretty extensively online and there are some concerns about maybe blood flow and restraints and the more hardcore stuff, or anything that would put me upside down for any period of time. But spanking would be fine, I’m almost positive. Just maybe not over your knee. A-and maybe not face-down at all, in the last trimester.”

  The words flew past him in a mad, hesitant, irrational, very un-Elena-like rush, but he caught onto the last word the way a man clings to a life preserver.

  Trimester.

  “Jesus Motherfucking Christ. A baby?”

  He hadn’t realized he’d said the words aloud until he saw the way Elena blanched, the way her eyes widened. “You… aren’t happy,” she surmised.

  Happy? Was he happy? God, he didn’t have the first idea how he felt.

  He and Josie had tried for years to have a baby—a little boy he’d take to football games; a little girl he could dote on. But then the doctors had said that Josie couldn’t have children, and Josie had said she wasn’t interested in adopting. So, he’d moved Children from the category of Things That Might Happen to the category of Things That Will NOT Happen, and he’d tried his best not to think about it after that.

  But now, with Elena… it seemed that God was giving him another shot. The image of a little girl with Elena’s dark hair appeared in his mind and he sucked in a sharp breath.

  Christ, but he wanted that.

  He thought of his sweet Josie again. Yup, definitely laughing her ass off at the twists and turns his orderly life was taking.

  He shook his head as a reluctant smile tugged at his lips, and he lifted his hand from Elena’s waist to run it through his hair.

  “I figured I was too old to have a kid,” he told her, the hand at her back tightening even further, while his free hand cupped her jaw. He slid his thumb along her bottom lip and watched her eyes lighten as she read his smile.

  She smirked. “Apparently not.”

  Yeah. Apparently not.

  “How sure are you?” he demanded.<
br />
  She took a deep breath and let it out. “Not very,” she admitted. “My period is about a week late, which is really unusual. I took a test today, and it was negative, but it might just be too early in the pregnancy for the over-the-counter test to detect. I’m going to talk to the doctor at Centered first thing tomorrow morning and get a blood test done. I’ll ask them to put a rush on it. We should know for sure sometime tomorrow.”

  Blake nodded. “I’ll go with you.”

  “For a blood draw?” Elena smiled. “No, honey, you don’t have to come for this one.”

  “Then you’ll come to me as soon as it’s done,” he decided. “We’ll wait for the results together.”

  Elena hesitated. “Here? At The Club? What about Alex?”

  Blake shook his head. “We’re gonna have to tell him about us. It’s gonna have to happen.”

  “He’s gonna lose his mind,” Elena predicted.

  “So be it,” he told her.

  Honest to God, that was not a conversation he was looking forward to, especially under the circumstances. Bad enough to explain to Slay that Blake had started a relationship with Slay’s younger sister, a sister Slay was inordinately protective of. But to then explain that Elena might be pregnant? And, oh, by the way, that Elena had outed herself to a room full of protesters on Blake’s watch? Yeah, not gonna be a good talk. Still…

  “You want this, Elena?” he demanded. “You want to be with me? Long-term? Raise our baby together, if that test is positive?”

  He held his breath. She was new to this. She’d never been in a D/s relationship before. And yeah, it seemed like she’d absolutely thrived under his dominance the last few weeks, and her curiosity and enthusiasm to experience the types of bondage and power exchange he craved had fucking thrilled him. But maybe it was too soon for her to know.

  A few weeks ago, she’d needed more time. Did she still?

  But she gave an emphatic nod, no hesitation. “Yeah. That’s what I want,” she said, and Blake smiled.

  “Then Slay will get over it,” Blake told her. “I’ll make sure he does.”

  Her answering smile was so brilliant and warm that he had to kiss her. Her face tilted up, and his lips found hers. The kiss was soft, but it was loving, and so full of promise.

  And then his goddamn desk phone rang, while somewhere nearby, her phone chirped.

  “Later, you and I are gonna be alone in a room for a long time without a single phone,” he swore, his lips still touching hers.

  “No interruptions?” she asked, licking her lips in a way that meant she licked Blake’s lips, too.

  Christ. “I’m thinking private island,” he told her, before reluctantly loosening his hands from her waist and stepping to the desk.

  “I’m holding you to that, Master Blake,” she sighed, as she slumped into a chair and started rooting in her purse.

  “Yeah,” he barked into the phone, his eyes still trained on his girl. Her kiss-swollen lips were fucking distracting.

  “Blake,” Matteo said, and the warning note in his voice had Blake turning around and paying attention. “What the fuck is going on at The Club?”

  Blake scratched the back of his neck. Had Donnie or Jace called Matt? Shit. He’d hoped to keep this quiet until he’d had a chance to assemble the guys and have a meeting… or at the very least, have his long-overdue discussion with Slay.

  “It’s not a big deal, Matt. The protesters have upped the ante again. They had this group come inside—”

  “Inside the front bar for a sit-in?” Matt finished. “Yeah, I know.”

  “Then you know I handled it. Had Donnie call the police to get them out of here. It’s fine.”

  “You handled it,” Matteo repeated.

  “That’s what I said.”

  “You handled it,” Matt said again.

  Blake was impatient. “Yeah, man, I fucking handled it. Tomorrow, we’ll…”

  “Cause, see, from what I saw, you weren’t the one to handle it,” Matt continued.

  “From what you… saw?”

  “Mmmhmmm. From the cell phone video I saw,” Matteo drawled.

  Oh, God. They’d posted a video online. Damn it.

  “What website has it?” Blake demanded. “We’ll contact them, get it taken down, before…”

  “Wasn’t a website, brother.” Matt’s voice was full of sympathy now. “It was Channel 13 Action News.”

  The breath froze in his lungs. The news? In the last few minutes… his eyes quickly flickered to the clock on the wall… okay, in the last half hour, he amended… someone had gotten a video of the protest on the news?

  Matt said, “Listen, Hillie’s here. She says to tell Elena that everything will be okay, and, uh…”

  Matt broke off and Blake could hear a muffled conversation on Matt’s end that sounded like “Tink, I am not saying that… I said no… Oh, for fuck’s sake, fine.”

  “And Hillary says to tell Elena her hair looked great,” Matteo relayed quickly, sounding extremely pissed off.

  At any other moment, Matt’s frustration would’ve made Blake smile. But not now.

  “When I, uh, talk to Elena, I’ll relay that message,” Blake said noncommittally.

  Matteo snorted. “Yeah, right.”

  “What’s that mean, Angelico?” Blake demanded.

  “Blake, if she’s standing more than two feet away from you right now, I’ll personally volunteer to clean the Red Room for the next three weeks. And I say standing because if you haven’t spanked her ass into next week for that stunt, then the real Blake Coleman has been kidnapped by aliens!”

  Matteo sighed. “I saw the way you looked at her on that video, man,” he continued more quietly. “I saw the way she looked at you. Hillie saw it, too.”

  Blake was too stunned to speak. Shit, shit, shit.

  He’d needed just one more day. One day to talk to Slay, to find a way for Elena to get ahead of the story and take steps to protect her job.

  “Fuck. We need to do damage control,” Blake muttered. “Immediately. I’ll talk to Elena.”

  “Good. I’ll call Slay and ask him to assemble his band of mutant superheroes.”

  “You mean his super secret agents?” Blake said flatly, remembering how Elena had referred to them.

  Matt snorted. “Yeah, them. We’ll meet tomorrow. And hey, on the off chance Slay hasn’t heard anything yet, I won’t say a word,” Matt promised. “Later, man.”

  Blake turned to look at Elena, who sat cradling her cell in her hands, looking shell-shocked and a little bit pale.

  “So, um… I meant to tell you earlier that Gretchen emailed,” she told him. “I set up a lunch date for the day after tomorrow. I think she might have info about Salazar that she wants to give me in person.”

  Blake shook his head. “No. It’s risky for you to meet with her now.”

  Elena scowled. “Not much riskier than it was before,” she countered, shaking back her hair. “Salazar had to know that you’d figure out he was involved. I just confirmed it for him.”

  Blake sucked in a calming breath as a pulse of anger flared in his chest.

  “Way riskier,” Blake reminded her. “Because that plan was concocted before we thought you might be pregnant.”

  “I’m not walking a tightrope or strolling through a landmine course! I’m having lunch with an old friend. Salazar has no idea it’s anything but that,” she said. “And besides, now more than ever, we need to get this finished. We can’t wait around while they mess with our lives.”

  Blake ground his teeth together. The hell of it was, she was right. He wanted to know whether Gretchen had managed to find something even Slay’s men hadn’t. Blake knew he was being overprotective, and he instinctively recognized that would only smother Elena. Wrapping her in cotton and keeping her locked up might make him breathe easier, but it wouldn’t be in Elena’s best interest at all.

  “Fine,” he gritted out. “Then I’ll go with you, or one of Slay’s guys will. Sla
y already arranged protection for Gretchen, but I’ll make sure he gets someone else to cover you—”

  “That’s the other thing,” Elena interrupted. “Hillie texted. She knows about the protesters and about… us. It’s only a matter of hours until Slay knows, too.”

  Blake nodded and crouched by Elena’s feet.

  “I figured,” he said.

  “God, that spread fast, huh?” Elena breathed, pushing her heavy mass of hair back with one hand while she stared at the ceiling, blinking back tears. “Boy, when I mess up, I do it thoroughly. I really didn’t think. I just… I was so stupid, Blake.”

  Blake took both of her hands in his, forcing her to look at him. Her hands were fucking trembling.

  “You listen to me, Elena Slater,” he said gruffly. “Everything is going to work out. We’re gonna make sure you are safe and protected. And your brother… well, Slay is gonna come charging in here like a bull. He’s gonna be loud as hell, and he’s going to stomp around cursing my name, because I broke the bro code by hooking up with his sister.”

  He didn’t add that Slay would be well within his rights to take a swing at Blake, too, and likely wouldn’t hesitate.

  Elena looked at Blake skeptically. “Bro code, huh?”

  “It’s a thing,” he confirmed, giving her a brief smile. “But the point is, he’s gonna do all that shit because he loves you, because he wants to make sure that the man you end up with is going to take care of you and keep you happy for the rest of your life.”

  She sniffled and nodded. “I know.”

  Blake lifted their joined hands to run his thumb over her cheek. He stared into her gorgeous dark brown eyes and saw his future written there.

  “But by the time he leaves here, honey,” Blake said softly. “He’s gonna know that I am that man.”

  Elena gifted him with a huge, elated smile… a second before she dissolved into sobs and threw her arms around his neck.

  “You mean it?” she whispered.

  “Yeah, baby,” he told her. “Every word.”

 

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