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High-Stakes Loving [King's Bluff, Wyoming 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

Page 24

by Fiona Archer


  Not that it was any of her business and damn, she had a punishment to avoid.

  She zipped through her shower, noting all her toiletries had been spread out on the vanity or placed around the room where she’d likely need them. By the time she’d given her hair a quick run-through with the dryer, she could see from a small clock on the vanity she had a minute to spare.

  Back sitting on the bed, she pulled the black woolen socks all the way up to a few inches below her knees. Catching sight of herself in the full-length mirror across the room, she was reminded of a naughty student attending a private girl’s school. All she needed was a school tie and a hockey stick to finish off her ensemble. Ha!

  It was only when her hand touched the doorknob leading out to the main room that her stomach fluttered. She swallowed. C’mon girl. You can do this. One last fluff of her hair and then she pulled the door wide.

  And there he was.

  Dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt that seemed to bring out the darkness of his hair, Mike stood next to the stove in the galley kitchen off to her left. He leaned back against the dark brown counter and let his gaze rove over her.

  She could feel her toes curling, the sway of her body as she rolled her feet to the outside. Her naughty school girl had melted under the bright lights of her own shyness. Holy heck, if she could just take a breath and gather herself.

  “Come here.” Mike held out his arms.

  Her feet moved before she’d even registered taking a step. Next thing she knew she was in his embrace and breathing in that delicious combination of leather, wood, and a faint hint of soap.

  Reagan closed her eyes, resting her cheek against the sculptured hardness of his chest. When he spoke, his chest vibrated with the sound, adding to his voice’s growly richness.

  “Brave little reader. And you made it with thirty seconds to spare.” He wrapped a finger under her chin then tilted her face up. His lips brushed against hers, softly at first, then harder. Just at the moment she opened her mouth, wanting his tongue, he lifted his head. The lines around his eyes crinkled at her tiny moan.

  He nodded over her shoulder toward the dining table. “Go sit down. I’ll bring your breakfast.” Turning her around, he gave her a gentle push in that direction.

  “Yes, Sir.” She didn’t bother to hide the sulk in her voice as she stepped away.

  She felt a brush of air before her right butt cheek burned. “Hey!” She spun around, remembering too late to hide her frown.

  “Less pout and more purr when you address me, sub.” Despite Mike’s even tone, his eyes were hard.

  Yikes! “Yes, Mike.” And he preferred Mike, not Sir.

  Not wanting to get into more trouble, she hustled over to the table and sat, legs pressed together, on a seat against the back wall which faced in the direction of the front door. The room’s temperature was warm. So what was her excuse for the pebbled hardness of her nipples? Which were, of course, on full display. At the last minute, she resisted the urge to groan. Don’t go there, Reagan. Just don’t go there.

  Casting a sideways glance at Mike, she watched as he took a foil-covered plate from the oven. After grabbing the coffeepot, he joined her at the table.

  While he poured them both a cup of coffee, Reagan seized the opportunity to examine this part of the cabin’s interior in more detail.

  Together with the dining area, the kitchen formed the back half of the main room. The simple design suited the space. With dark cupboard doors, the galley stretched all the way to the far sidewall. Modern stainless-steel appliances were built into the counter. Another bench, shorter in length and containing the sink and dishwasher, ran parallel. At its very end rested a cordless drill. Ah ha! So that’s what made that grinding sound.

  She nodded in its direction. “Doing some improvements?”

  “You could say that.” Mike’s lips quirked but he didn’t elaborate further as he removed the foil from her plate, revealing three fluffy and enormous pancakes. “There’s more if you want.” He placed a small jug near her utensils. “Boysenberry syrup. Homemade.”

  Typical Mike. Those were the facts. Nothing more. Nothing less.

  She glanced around the table. There was a full place set for one.

  “You and Quinn aren’t joining me?” Where was the big guy?

  “We’re early risers. Ate hours ago.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Quinn’s out doing chores. He’ll be in soon.”

  Was it her imagination or did Mike’s mouth tighten after the last sentence?

  She dipped her gaze back to her plate. “These look delicious.” After pouring a lake of the dark ruby-colored syrup over her pancakes, she took her first bite. The flavors of the fruit exploded over her tongue as the lightness of the pancake assured her she’d at least finish one before her stomach felt too full.

  She lowered her fork on to the plate and let out a groan. “Mike, this is amazing.”

  An easy smile played over his face. “Thank you, sweetness.”

  After adding a dollop of cream to her beloved java, she looked about the room. “It’s obvious you guys carried out a heap of renovations. That seems a huge investment for someone just renting the cabin.”

  “It would be, excerpt we aren’t renters.” He waited for her to face him. “We own it, Reagan. And the access road that came with the parcel. Bought the place outright four months ago.” And with that, he sipped more coffee.

  They’d managed to keep that news quiet. Damn quiet. “I didn’t know.” Chloe hadn’t said anything.

  “We didn’t want to tell you until you’d had a chance to visit the place. Chloe’s only finding out this weekend. Noah and Flynn didn’t trust her to keep the news from you.” He chuckled as he leaned back in the chair. The dark scraping of whiskers on his chin, combined with the hand-combed roughness of his hair, made him look so at home in the earthy environment of the cabin.

  She continued eating her pancakes while he spoke.

  “Noah waited for us to see how Quinn and I liked the town. Once he’d satisfied himself that we’d fit in, he offered us a deal on the cabin and enough land to give us some privacy. We agreed to terms and then started adding rooms. Paid contractors a premium to get the work done on our schedule.” He glanced at the door separating the newer and older parts of the cabin. “There’s still parts needing work, including painting. The office is essentially a computer and a desk and the laundry’s basic. I’ll give you a tour later.”

  “So you’re here to stay.”

  “This is our home, Reagan.” Mike met her gaze, held it.

  Everything quieted. There was just her and Mike. The significance of his statement lay between them like an invitation sealed in a bright red envelope that rested on a silver tray. She could either open it up or ignore it.

  Each intake of her breath grew louder in her ears.

  Carefully, she placed her fork on her plate. Only then did she speak.

  “And where do I fit into all this.”

  “That’s up to you.” He sat forward, reaching out with one long arm to capture her hand in his. The brush of his thumb over her knuckles sent a shiver up over her arm before it fizzed at her nape, the area of her body she so strongly associated with his firm grip.

  “I have so many questions.”

  He lifted his chin. “Let’s hear them.”

  “Well…” She paused, lined up her thoughts. Maybe start off with something easy. More for her benefit than his. “Okay, tell me what it is you want from a sub. What that whole dynamic means to you.”

  “Good questions.” With one last squeeze of her hand, he sat back against the wooden chair. “What I want from a sub.” He pursed his lips and took a few seconds before answering. “I’d require her submission in the bedroom and at certain times, outside of that room. That could be in this cabin or maybe a club, or with others in the lifestyle.” He smiled at her soft gasp.

  “That’s right, Reagan. Sooner or later we’ll want to take you to the MacKenzie’s club when it�
�s up and running and show you off as ours. We’d play there, in front of others. You’d be strapped down, tied up, or any other way we imagine.”

  “Naked?” Seriously, that might be beyond her.

  His voice dropped to that subterranean level that melted her resistance. “That would be up to us.” He stared at her chest, his gaze lingering before flicking back up to her face. “Any Dom worth his leathers would want to show off such a gorgeous sub. You might not be naked. But unless you use your safe word, I guarantee you’ll have no choice in the matter.”

  And she’d thought these questions were easy?

  “Let me be clear. Neither I nor Quinn want a slave. We want someone who’ll argue back when we leave a mess in the kitchen, not run to clean up after us. The idea you’d leave your personality at the door each time you came home is my idea of hell.”

  No chance of that happening. With Mike and Quinn, she’d need her personality standing front and center to win any ground against those two natural alphas.

  His gaze narrowed. “But be warned, I won’t hesitate to put my sub over my knees and give her a lesson in respect when warranted.” He paused, studying her as she felt a hot flush creep over her chest. “But you know that already, don’t you, sweetness?”

  Breathe, Reagan.

  “Yes.” She stuffed more pancake into her mouth and chewed. It seemed the safest option.

  “As for your second question and how that dynamic works for me, it’s instinctive. I’m a protector. It’s not only entrenched in my personality, it’s what I’ve done for a living. Seeking to dominate someone in a sexual sense is part of that need to protect. To put a sub’s emotional and physical needs above mine is an acknowledgment that I won’t always come first. There’s also the satisfaction of gaining your trust.”

  She couldn’t look away. His words rang with authenticity.

  “Put it this way. I can’t dominate unless you submit. And unless you submit, it’s impossible for you to feel the true pleasure and release that your mind and body craves. The dynamic is a shared one. All sides must meet the needs of the other for it to thrive.”

  “Equal partners.” It made sense.

  “Remember that when Quinn and I have you strapped to a spanking bench.” His tone signified a promise, not an idle threat.

  Heat pulsed low in her belly, spreading to between her thighs.

  “Next question.”

  Hell, she might as well go for broke.

  “Where do you see me fitting in with your future?”

  “I see you here, with us, permanently.” He barked out a laugh at her small gasp. “What did you think I’d say? As our concubine and steady date on weekends?”

  “I don’t know. You’re the strong, silent type. Quinn’s more the charmer, the talker.” She shrugged, feeling defensive all of a sudden.

  “Point taken. And trust me, the fact I’m the first one to have this conversation with you and not Quinn is deeply unnerving.” Mike sighed and looked out through the closest side window, as if searching for his buddy.

  When he turned back to face her, his gaze was focused. “Let me try again. I believe we have something special. Yes, our relationship timeline is short, but we’ve known each other for months. I’ll spell it out for you the only way I know how. I love you.”

  Only Mike could may a declaration of love sound like a war cry.

  Her stomached fluttered in the best of ways. She wanted to jump across the table and hug him tight. She opened her mouth, wanted to—

  “Before you say anything, let me finish.”

  Her flutters nose-dived, crashing into a sea of unease. “Okay.” She curled her hands on her lap. Was he going to now give an excuse as to why it wouldn’t work? Take it all back?

  “Reagan, this last week spent apart from you and Quinn gave me a chance to not only think about us and where the three of us stood in the relationship, but also to clean house of some thoughts that had been on my mind long before our first date.”

  He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. His grimace seemed to have little to do with strained muscles.

  Reagan kept quiet, sipped her coffee.

  “Since I finished my rehab I’ve been”—he looked over her head as if searching for the right word—“lost, confused.” He huffed out a dry laugh. “Fuck it. I’ve been angry. I was no longer a SEAL. No amount of rehab would change that fact.”

  She quietly lifted her plate to the side and then leaned forward, her elbows on the table. “And so you joined up with Quinn working on investigations.”

  Mike opened his mouth to say something but closed it with a harsh sigh. When he spoke again, his voice was calm and controlled. “There’s a conversation Quinn and I need to have before I can say much more on that topic, but I do have a question for you.”

  Hmm, there was a story there but since he wasn’t about to elaborate, she’d have to accept it and move on.

  “Sure, ask away.”

  “You know a kid named Danny Scott? Age about twelve? Kind of small, quiet.”

  Her favorite trainee gardener? “Yeah, I know Danny. He’s a great kid. Comes into the library a couple of days a week. Why do you ask?” She couldn’t help the protective edge that hardened her voice.

  “Steady there, tiger.” An undercurrent of approval mixed with humor in his voice. “I met him at the Youth Café last week. He’s had a…challenging time.”

  She nodded. “That he has. But he’s a smart boy and he’s got a momma that loves him to the moon and back. Those are good traits to have in one’s corner.” Then it hit her. “You were at the Youth Café? I’ve never seen you there before, not since the painting and stuff.” She knew he’d helped pay for the security alarm, but Quinn had always been the one who’d been on site.

  He shrugged. “Flynn asked me to drop by. Bastard had an ulterior motive. He wants me to start mentoring there. Talk to the kids. Listen. Try not to strangle them when they play that mind-numbing heavy techno music.”

  “I can see that’d be a challenge for you.” She tried to hide her laughter, really she did. In the end, her giggles had even her grouchy Dom smiling.

  “It was touch and go there on that first visit, but Flynn acted as my wingman. No casualties reported. Bastard left me there on my own last Tuesday.”

  “And that’s when you met Danny?”

  He nodded. “Place was virtually empty. Some school sports excursion. Danny didn’t go.”

  “No, he wouldn’t,” she said quietly. “So you guys talked?”

  “Yeah, turns out I don’t completely suck at the whole mentor gig.” His shrug seemed nonchalant, but the brightness of his gaze and the way he ran his hands down his thighs said differently.

  His words from earlier played over in her head. Lost. Confused. No longer a SEAL. Wasn’t there something earlier, a conversation in her kitchen? Mike had made some comment about how the success of an earlier case had been all down to Quinn. He’d just sat around, working a laptop.

  This warrior needed a new mission.

  “Then I vote you give this mentor gig a chance. If you have the opportunity to do what you love for a living and not something that pays the bills, then you’d be a fool not to take that opportunity.” Oh, she could have fun with this. Her evil twin kicked in, shoving caution out the door. “You never know, you might learn to love the heavy techno music.” She tapped her finger to her chin. “Hey, you could start wearing your jeans halfway down your ass.”

  Mike stayed still and silent for a second. Then the lines around his mouth deepened as a slow smile formed over his face. Yay! Her Dom had a sense of humor. Sometimes a girl just needed to prod a little.

  A determined glint entered his eyes.

  Her courage wobbled.

  If anything, his smile grew wider. “Teasing your Dom, little sub? Time to extract my revenge.” He leapt from the chair.

  Uh-oh.

  She jumped up, squealing as she made a dash for the door leading to the corridor. Her hand curled arou
nd the doorknob a second before a muscled arm snaked around her waist and then dragged her up against a hard body.

  Her protests of outrage were foiled by another fit of giggles. She tried to squirm but that arm of steel kept her tight against him as he backed into the kitchen. Using one hand, he pulled open a drawer, grabbing a bundle of strappy material before striding back to the dining table. Her butt landed near the edge of the table and at the opposite end to her breakfast dishes. He used one hand to hold her wrists together and pushed them against her stomach, effectively keeping her in place.

  She eyed him shaking out a bunch of canvas straps. Two wrist cuffs also fell out. “What are you going to do?”

  “We’re going to test run my newest renovations.” He grabbed the sewn-in clip at one end and reached under the table. A heavy click sounded.

  The cordless drill.

  “You’re going to take me here, on the table?” The idea was shocking. And perverted. And wonderful. Her pussy tingled. Need swelled her clit.

  He pressed his thighs hard against her legs, using his body to hold her in place. Taking one of her wrists, he buckled the cuff and then pushed her down until the wood of the table touched her back. Lifting her arm out to the side, he then looped the strap through the cuff’s D-ring and adjusted it until satisfied she couldn’t move before repeating the process with her other arm.

  “I’ll start with the table.” Mike’s gruff voice matched the firmness of his grip as he tightened a wide strap over her knee and pulled her leg wide until her thigh rested on the table. “Then move you elsewhere. There’s a whole load of places for us to test out in this cabin.” Another click sounded.

  She tugged against the restraint. A throb pulsed deep in her core.

 

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