Secrets Dispatched

by Raven McAllan

  “It would?” Shane looked back at him. “How come?”

  “I’m one of the people she’d call to go out and hunt.”

  Shane giggled. “Cover yourself in glory, eh? Are you sure?”

  He deliberately chose to misunderstand. “That she’d call me? Oh, yeah.”

  “No, you moron, that I’ll not get back later. I mean, I don’t even have a toothbrush with me, let alone a change of clothes.”

  She sat on the settee and stretched her legs out in front of her. Even though they were clad in damp denim and sheepskin boots, Ross admired the long elegant shape. His cock stirred as he thought of how he’d like to tug off Shane’s boots and peel her jeans slowly downwards until her soft skin was bared for him. Of course he didn’t know her skin would be soft and strokeable, but he’d bet his Firewire surfboard it would be.

  “Toothbrush is no problem. We always have new ones in the club shop. Clothes we can cope with. I’ll wash and dry what you’re wearing and lend you sweats or something for now.” He raised one eyebrow. “Of course, we do sell clothes in the shop as well.”

  Shane shook her head and sighed. “I bet you do. Okay, let me ring the hotel.” The call took seconds, and Elspeth, the owner, was pleased she’d called.

  “Otherwise, I would have worried,” Elspeth said, cheerfully. She didn’t sound very worried, just the opposite. “We’ll see you when we see you then. Ross will look after you.” Was there something in the way Elspeth said it that made Shane sure Elspeth knew exactly who Ross was and what went on at Diomhair? It was probably an open secret to the locals, whatever their preferences were, but she wasn’t going to ask.

  “Okay?” Ross asked her.

  “She was glad I rang, and said you’d look after me?” She ended the sentence on an up note. Shane went back to his last statement.

  Ross grinned. “That I will. So, clothes?”

  “I can imagine what you sell in the shop.” Shane shook her head and sighed. “Joggers or a bathrobe will be fine. No way am I spending the evening in a corset. Bloody uncomfortable, and so not me. My boobs and I need space to expand.” She blushed and sniggered. “Shit, that sounds even more kinky than kinky—or weird. Expanding boobs. The mind boggles. Hell, you know what I mean.”

  “I’d’ve known what you mean without the cussing, kitten.” He used the subbie name on purpose to see how she’d react. To his amusement her lips firmed and her eyes glittered, but she didn’t speak.

  “Why do you not like the fact I want to call you kitten? It’s better than ‘hey, you’, or ‘you, girl’, surely?” He sat down next to her and looked at her steadily. “Now’s the time to ‘fess up, kitten. Let’s be open and honest, eh? I’m going to grab you something to wear, and point you to the shower.” He put his hand over her lips, and felt her breath on his palm as she opened and shut her mouth again. “Good girl. You might say you don’t want a shower, but, babe, you’re cold and it will warm you up.”

  “Sheesh, I hate babe even more than pet or kitten. Why can’t you call me Shane?”

  Ross stood up. “I’ll tell you what? You tell me why you hate a pet name, and I don’t mean as in animal pet, and I’ll not call you kitten—if your explanation is justified.”

  She scratched her nose.

  That telling gesture enchanted him. He remembered it as something she’d done as a kid, when she was thinking hard.

  “Who’s to say if what you think isn’t justified, I do?”

  “Well, kitten, that’s up to you to decide, isn’t it? But you give me good reason not to have a name for us when we scene, and I’ll abide by it.” He ignored her startled gasp and the way her mouth hung open, until she shut it with an audible snap. “Now, the bathroom is the spare room en suite and it’s the third door along the corridor over there. I’m going to make coffee and hunt out something for dinner.”

  He tugged Shane to her feet and deliberately removed the blanket. He had to pry her fingers open and he chuckled. “I’m a Dom, kitten, cry red or do as I say.” He put the blanket over the back of the sofa. “Remember that.”

  “You’re not my Dom though, Ross Mackie.” She glared at him. She sure did have a good selection of glares and used them to full effect. “So, no dice, mate. I will have a shower, but only because I want one. Get it?”

  He got it. She was arsy and running scared. However, not scared as in frightened, he was sure of that. Scared of her feelings, more likely.

  Her chest heaved. It could be with indignation, but Ross saw the way her skin bloomed with a soft covering of perspiration—not dampness from the snow, not now—and how the pulse at the base of her neck beat erratically. He was experienced enough to notice those signs as indicative of arousal not fear. Although were they not different sides of the same coin at times?

  “I get it, but I wonder if you do?” Ross asked her. He spun her around to face the direction she needed and patted her bum. “Off you go. Coffee will be waiting when you come back. I’ll put clothes on the bed for you.”

  “No corsets,” she said as she sashayed away from him.

  Did she waggle her arse like that on purpose, just to tease him, or was it natural? Ross had very mixed thoughts about that, until as she opened the door to the corridor she waved her fingers over her head and, he swore, giggled in an incredibly suggestive way.

  Minx. Did she not know little subbies who played with fire got their fingers scorched, and their arses tanned? Or did she not care?

  Chapter Four

  Shit, shit stupid or what? Do I have a death wish? Remember Pete. However, Shane knew Ross was a different kettle of fish to Pete, and understood whatever she did with Ross would be poles apart from that earlier negative and unhappy experience. The problem was whether she wanted it or not. She accepted she did still have subbie tendencies, and Ross could well be the Dom for her, but was that really what she wanted right now? No, she decided, not until she sorted her past out.

  The bedroom she walked into made her whistle. As a spare room, it was bigger than both her bedrooms at home put together, and a hell of a lot more opulent. Not ostentatious, but definitely decorated with a female in mind. That thought sent a nasty stab of unwarranted jealousy through her. What right had she to be jealous of anything Ross had done? Or indeed still did?

  Lots, if he’s got someone else. That idea made her feel sick. Surely he wouldn’t have, not if he was interested in her? Perhaps in being her Dom? That idea made her pussy tingle and her thighs get damper than they already were.

  Pete, you’re almost history now. Dead, dead and almost buried.

  But, she mused as she kicked off her boots and undid the snap on her jeans, what did Ross truly want? Was he just being friendly in offering to show her around, or was it a prelude to asking her to sub? Shane knew without a doubt she needed to know there and then. Without bothering to put her boots back on, she retraced her steps to the lounge and headed in the direction of music. Surely that would be where Ross was?

  She was correct. The music got louder as Shane approached a half open door at the rear of the long lounge. She pushed it open to see Ross, back toward her, standing by a work surface, singing along—rather tunefully it had to be said—to an old Bob Marley and the Wailers song. It seemed he hadn’t heard her approach, and she was able to admire the tight lines of his arse, and the way he moved as he worked.

  The knife in his hand looked sharp and dangerous. Shane thought it might not be a good idea to get too close without letting him know she was there. She rapped on the door.

  Ross spun around with the knife still held at a dangerous angle between his fingers. When he took in her attire, he looked at her with a puzzled expression. “You’ve not showered.” It wasn’t a question.

  Was it hurt she saw in his eyes? “I’m about to, but well…” Shane hesitated, unsure how to voice her fears. Bite the bullet, woman. Just go for it. “Ah hell, I need to know. Are you involved with anyone at all?” The words tumbled out and she cursed the way she spoke. “Look, I know
that sounds presumptuous and stuff, and I can’t imagine you are but… Well I’ve been burned once, oh, not physically, though I’m sure there’s burns and burns and oh, shit, I’m babbling. No, hell and, oh fuck, you hate swearing and I’ve bloody done it again. No not burns, heat and stuff and fuck it, Shane, shut your mouth.” She took a deep breath and folded her arms across her middle. “Anyway, I had to ask.”

  Ross put the knife down and leaned back on the edge of the work surface, his hands braced on the marble top. “Why? You said you’re not interested, so why should it bother you?” His voice was level and almost uninterested. He sounded as if he was asking her the time or something equally as mundane.

  It was deserved, but the urge to know hadn’t diminished. Maybe now she needed to open up a little more?

  “Look, Ross, once I’ve spoken to Jess, I’ll explain. But until then, I can’t. But, I need to know.”

  “Why? It’s an insult.” He turned his back on her and thumped the knife down into a poor, unsuspecting vegetable. Bits of carrot skittered over the work surface and onto the floor. “Go take a shower, Shane.” The name sounded like an insult as well. “I’ll have some food ready when you get back. You don’t owe me any explanations, nor I you.”

  “Dammit, don’t you turn your back on me, Ross Mackie. I can’t tell you ‘til I’ve spoken to Jess, okay. It’s not all my story to tell.” She poked him in the back. “Stop acting as if you’ve spat your dummy out, man up, pull up your big boy boxers and listen to me. You say you’re a Dom, so bloody act like one.”

  His back stiffened.

  “And damn well look at me when I shout at you.”

  His shoulders moved. Shane poked him again. “Or fuck you, I’m out of here.”

  That made him turn. The knife clattered into the sink as he threw it away from them.

  “Shane, you questioned my integrity, both as a man and a Dom. It not only hurts, it’s offensive. Do you really think I’d be so crass as to indicate I want to play with you, when I already have a sub or a partner?”

  “Some people do.” Try as she might, she couldn’t keep her voice level.

  “Some do, I don’t. If I did, I would have told you that right back at the beginning of our conversations.” He kissed her nose. It tickled and Shane wrinkled it. Ross laughed. “I can see you’re a bratty sub, kitten. I like that. Okay, before you call me out again, let’s try this. Hypothetically if you are a sub, you would be a bratty one. How’s that?”

  Shane smiled. He said it so patiently, but with a glint in his eye that showed her exactly what he thought she was. He was correct, but she had no intention of telling him. Not until… She dragged her mind away from dark thoughts. “Better. And I agree. Hypothetically if I was a sub, I so would be.”

  “It could make life interesting then. If you’re a sub. Go have your shower, Shane.” This time her name sounded normal, not an epithet. “Get warm, and then we can move on.”

  She nodded and grinned. Everything seemed brighter, and Shane realized she hadn’t felt so full of hope and enthusiasm for ages. She almost skipped back to the bedroom, where she did a shimmy to help her clammy denims over her hips then grimaced as the cold damp material chafed her skin. Was there anything worse?

  Well, yes, there was a lot, but at that moment, it came very high up the list. Shane got rid of the offending garment just as there was a knock on the bedroom door. She looked around her for something to cover her bottom half. Hot pink socks and a scarlet thong wasn’t exactly sartorially elegant, especially with a fuzzy blue jumper covering her top. She hadn’t thought about color co-ordination when she’d dressed, more about warmth.

  “Shane, I’ve clothes here for you.”

  “Um, er, okay, half a sec.” She did the best thing she could think of and slid under the duvet. Okay, I’m decent.”

  The door opened and Ross came in with a large stuffed bag. “Pity. Or are you in there waiting for me?” His eyes twinkled and Shane guessed he was now trying to reassure her all was okay in their world.

  “In your dreams,” she said inelegantly.

  “Oh yeah, you’ve got that right.” He dumped the bag on top of a chair. “Should be something that’ll work in here.” Ross picked up her jeans and walked back to the door “Shove the rest of your wet clothes outside and I’ll put them in the dryer.”

  Shane stared at the door as it closed behind him and let her breath out in one long sigh. Her simple idea of meet Jess, chat and move on, was suddenly a whole lot more complicated. She got out of the bed, smoothed the duvet and shoved the rest of her clothes outside the door as Ross had directed. Then she made her way into the bathroom to stand under the hot shower until her skin tingled. Eventually she forced herself out from under the gentle, soothing spray and made her way back to the bedroom with a towel tightly twisted around her. Silly, because of course Ross wouldn’t be there, however that little bit of protection mattered.

  The bag on the chair had fallen over and some of the contents had spilled onto the carpet. Something bright caught her eye and Shane walked across the room and stared at the scarlet silk that shimmered in the lamp light. That wasn’t sweats or joggers. She picked the material up between her thumb and forefinger. It was revealed as a very sexy, slinky, soft slip of a dress, with tiny thin straps and a pretty scalloped hem. A scrap of paper was pinned to it.

  Not joggers but much more you, I think. I dare you.

  Shane stared at the dress and dropped it as if it was hot. Then she picked it up again and held it next to her cheek. Nice, but so not her.

  By the time she returned to the lounge, Ross was once more sat on the sofa, legs stretched out in front of him with his ankles crossed and his arms behind his head. His shirt and jeans stretched tightly over his body gave Shane the perfect idea of how fit and well-honed he was. She risked a quick look toward his cock and bit back a groan. The outline there was one big, juice-inducing bulge. She swallowed as she salivated at the thought of that anywhere near her.

  Oh, my yes please.

  Ross looked up at her and smiled. “Feel better?”

  Well, I do and I don’t. She didn’t think she’d say that though. “Yes, thank you. I hope you don’t mind me in the dressing gown? Those joggers slid off me as soon as I moved.” She didn’t mention the dress.

  “Whatever you feel happiest in is fine by me.”

  He didn’t mention the dress either. Had she hoped he would?

  “Coffee on its way.” Ross stood up. “I’ve rustled up soup. Do you want it now?”

  Her tummy had so many butterflies in it, she felt sick and she had to clench her fists to stop her hands shaking. She didn’t envisage her managing to drink soup without spilling it down her cleavage, and maybe a dash to the loo. “Later, I think.”

  “No worries. I’ll grab coffee and biccies instead for now then. Oh, by the way, I’ve just had a phone call from Jess. She and David are stuck in town. They’ve had to take a hotel room. There was a really disgusted note in her voice. I think they’d earmarked one of the dungeons for themselves tonight, seeing as the club is closed. One of the perks of being co-owner.” He disappeared into the kitchen, and the clinks and chinks of crockery being moved drifted toward her.

  It seemed Jess had gotten over her bad experience then. However, until she heard the lady tell her so, Shane wouldn’t settle, or decide what she might do. Stupid and irrational, she knew, but it niggled. And niggles weren’t something Shane ever chose to ignore these days, not since she had ignored her itch between the shoulder blades niggle over Pete. What a mistake that had been.

  “Hmm, I guess.” Shane nibbled her lip as she sat on the sofa and pulled the dressing gown around her. How much could she say? She had to give some sort of explanation, but it was so difficult.

  “Here you go.” Ross had re-entered without Shane noticing, and put her coffee and a ceramic biscuit tin shaped like a dick or vibrator on the table next to her. Shane looked at him and sniggered. It was so out of place in such a masculine room
. “And this is yours?”

  “Sadly yes. It was a housewarming present from Jess and Kath, who said I was getting staid.”

  Staid wasn’t a word she would apply to him. “They have, ah, unusual tastes.”

  “Weird sense of humor, more like. Bratty subs both of them. Even having her babies hasn’t slowed Kath down. Luckily, both David and Jeff have their measures.” His fondness for the two couples was evident in the way he spoke about them

  Will he ever talk about me in that tone? Oh, God, I hope so. I want my chance now. Surely I deserve that?

  “Anyway,” Ross continued. “The biscuits aren’t cock shaped.” He paused and winked. “I’ve eaten those. These are nipples.”

  Shane stopped just as she was about to dip into the tin. “You prefer nipples to cocks then?”

  Ross roared with laughter. “Every time, kitten, every bloody time.”

  “You swore,” Shane said. “You won’t let me.” She pulled out a biscuit. A long oblong, ordinary shortbread. You lied as well. This isn’t a nipple.”

  “I must have eaten all the nipples then.” Ross didn’t sound at all repentant. “I apologize for my language. Maybe I need pussies next?”

  Pussy singular if I have any say in the matter. For one awful moment, Shane thought she’d spoken aloud. It was hard not to exhale heavily when she realized she hadn’t.

  “Well, whatever turns you on.”

  “You, it seems.” Ross looked down at the outline of his cock straining the denim of his jeans. “I hope this denim is a strong as the makers boast, or I’m in trouble. You’d never believe it was an accident.”

  “I would so. I’m not that stupid,” Shane said, stung at his assumption she was so shallow. “No one would rip two-hundred dollar jeans on purpose. Well, not with their cock, think of the grazes you’d get.”