by Sophie Stern
He’s right, and I should stop being such a pussy.
“All right, I’ll go talk to her,” I say. “Any chance you can get me a few minutes alone with her?”
What I’m really asking is if he’ll distract Odessa for a few minutes while I chat up Piper. Jaxson gets my drift, though, and heads toward the girls.
“Ladies,” I hear him greet them with a smile. Then he turns to Odessa. “Can I borrow you for a few minutes? I want to get your opinion on a gift I’m thinking about getting my wife.”
Odessa’s eyes light up. I can see them even from my spot, and she quickly hops up. She turns, says something to Piper, and then she follows Jaxson away.
And Piper is alone.
Her posture changes once her friend is gone. She’s more alert now, less relaxed. She’s more cautious and aware of what’s happening around her. Once more, she’s scared.
“Oh Piper,” I whisper. “What are you running from?”
I wish I knew.
If I knew, I could help her.
I could protect her.
I could take care of her.
If I knew what had Piper all twisted in knots, I’d be able to watch over her. I could neutralize the threat. I could bring her peace.
She’s the type of woman who doesn’t trust easily, though, and if I want to win the fair maiden’s heart, I have to be worthy of that trust. I have to show her I’m an honorable man, a kind man. I have to show her I’m not just some sleazeball Dom.
“Piper,” I sit down next to her, taking the stool Odessa vacated.
“Maddox,” she says coolly. She doesn’t turn to me, doesn’t look at me. She doesn’t make eye contact.
Interesting.
“Is that how you greet a Dom?” I ask her. Piper glances sideways at me, takes a deep breath, and then turns.
“Please forgive my behavior,” she says sweetly. “It’s been a bit of a long day, sir, and as you can see,” she holds up her pink bracelet. “I’m not playing tonight.”
“I’m only interested in talking.”
Is it just me, or does she look a little surprised, maybe a little sad, at that?
“What would you like to talk about, Maddox?”
“Well, for starters, you could tell me what you’re running from.”
Why wait to call her out?
I’ve got all night.
Hell, I’ve got all year.
I have a perfectly clear schedule and the only item on my “to do” list if Piper Queen.
She needs my help, and I’m going to help her.
Her entire body stills, and she takes several deep breaths. Then she pastes a cool, plain expression on her face.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lies.
“Oh, darling,” I whisper, placing my hand on her knee. “You know I don’t tolerate lies. You might not be playing tonight, but I’m going to owe you some spankings if this behavior continues.”
“What behavior is that?”
“The lying, bratty sub behavior,” I tell her.
“You aren’t my Dom,” she says slowly. “So I don’t have to do what you say.”
“You do have to be respectful,” I remind her, and Piper’s eyes narrow. Oh, I’m starting to piss her off, and that’s exciting. She so rarely loses control. She so rarely lets herself go. She never releases all of her emotions, all of her anger, all of her excitement.
Instead, Piper keeps everything bottled up neatly, tightly wrapping everything up.
The problem with suppressing your emotions, though?
Eventually those bottled-up feelings have to go somewhere.
Eventually, they’re going to burst.
With Piper?
It’s only a matter of time.
Chapter 3
Piper
Maddox Blake is sitting next to me, and his hand is on my leg.
Holy dragons.
I’m in for it now.
I don’t do serious and I don’t do relationships. Not after Tad. Not ever again.
Still, there’s something about Maddox Blake that draws me to him and I’m just not sure what to do next. His hand is on my leg, and if he slides it up just a little bit more, he’ll find that I’m not wearing panties.
He’ll find more than that.
He’ll find that I’m wet, that my thighs are slick with my arousal, that I’m so close to coming just from his hand being on me.
Maddox Blake is the man of my fantasies, but I can’t let him in. I can’t let anyone in, not again. I can’t risk getting hurt. I can’t risk Tad finding out and hurting them.
“Piper,” he says my name again, and I look up at Maddox. I know he’s been watching me. I know he sees more than he lets on. Oh, he acts like he’s some silly playboy, some dumb jerk who doesn’t know HTML from Java, but that’s not Maddox.
He’s smart, and he’s calculating.
I’d bet anything that he’s a cop, or that he used to be.
Now, as he looks at me, he waits patiently. I know exactly what he’s asking me for. He’s asking me to trust him. He’s asking me to believe in him. He’s asking me to please, just please, take a chance on him.
“Maddox,” I repeat his name, and his hand slides just a little bit higher. He’s so close. Just one little move of his fingers and he’ll be stroking my clit, bringing me promises of pleasure. Just a little bit more.
“Hey Charmer, you’re in my seat,” I hear Odessa’s voice, and I break free from my lust-filled haze. Suddenly, I seem to remember where I am, who I am, what I am. I know one thing for certain: I’m not free. I’m not available. I’m not in any position to get to know Maddox Blake in any way that’s not professional, and I carefully push his hand away.
Maddox Blake, ever the gentleman, lets me go.
“Goodnight, Maddox,” I say to him.
“Goodnight, Piper,” his voice sounds sad. He moves and Odessa takes her seat.
“Call me later,” she says, catching my gaze, and I nod. She knows I’ll check in with her. We talk to each other regularly.
And then I leave.
I walk out of Anchored and call a ride using an app on my phone. I’ve been drinking, so I won’t drive. My car will be here tomorrow when I come back, and a ride to my place will be pretty inexpensive. If it wasn’t drizzling out, I would just walk, but it’s too wet for that.
I can’t believe what happened tonight with Maddox. Was he really coming onto me? Was he really making his move? And did I really shoot him down?
I’m an idiot.
That much is for certain.
The old Piper wouldn’t have behaved that way. The old Piper wouldn’t have been scared or afraid or shy. The old Piper would have been fierce and determined. She would have been brave.
She would have taken one look at Maddox Blake and then crawled into his bed.
She would have worshipped him.
She would have adored him.
Well, that Piper is dead, and new Piper is one careful bitch.
She has to be.
I have to be.
My ride shows up and I climb in. After the obligatory good evening has been said, I close my eyes, lean my head back against the seat, and just think about what I’m going to do. The truth is that even after a night of drinking at Anchored, I’m just not sure what my next move should be.
I can’t go to the police. They can’t help me. I already have a restraining order against Tad, but let’s be honest: we all know that doesn’t mean a darn thing. I have a gun, I have self-defense training, and I have an incredible alarm system for my house, but none of that matters because Tad is determined.
He’s determined to hurt me.
Well, I’m not going to get hurt again.
We pull up to a random house a block over from mine, and I thank the driver and climb out of the car. I wait for him to pull away, and then I start walking down the sidewalk toward my actual house.
Call me paranoid.
Call me crazy.
&nbs
p; Cal me anything you want, but I don’t put my real address on anything. I live in a quiet, modest house purchased under the name of a small business I opened solely for the purpose of owning my house. My mail goes to a post office box. I use burner phones. I don’t take the same route home from work each day. I leave the office at different times.
And I never let a taxi-app driver know which house is mine.
I walk quietly to my house, trying to ignore the other houses I pass on the way. They all have toys in the yards. A couple of them even have bikes left in the driveways, and for a second, I wonder if I’m ever going to have that.
Will I ever get the white picket fence?
Will I ever get the wedding bells?
Will I ever get the happily-ever-after?
I shake my head as I reach my house and pull out my keys. Nope, that’s not the life for me, but that’s okay. I step into the empty house and close the door behind myself before I collapse in the middle of the entryway.
This is fine.
I am okay.
I’m going to be all right.
I keep telling myself over and over and over again that everything happens for a reason, that maybe I just can’t see the forest through the trees. I keep promising myself that somehow, I’m going to be all right.
But then the tears come harder, faster, and I know that none of it’s true.
It’s not going to be all right.
None of it’s going to be all right.
And I am alone.
Chapter 4
Maddox
“Where’s Piper tonight?” I ask June. It’s been a week since we talked at the bar. An entire week, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. Not that I could stop thinking about her before. With Piper, she’s never not on my mind.
June shrugs and starts making a drink. She turns around, but her shoulders and back are stiff. What the hell?
“Excuse me,” I move swiftly to get behind the bar, and I stand next to her.
“You aren’t supposed to be back here,” June says, surprised, but she doesn’t stop mixing the drink. I reach for it, taking over, and now she looks surprised. “You’re a mixologist?”
“We all have our secrets, June.”
“What do you want, Maddox?”
“First, I want to address the fact that you just completely disrespected me as a Dom.”
“I’m no sub, Maddox.”
“We both know that’s a lie,” I lower my voice. “And don’t think that because you’re the owner I won’t pull you over my knee, June. I will, and you know it.”
“And I’ll have you kicked out of here faster than you can say ‘red,’ Maddox.”
“Why so feisty, June?”
I finish the drink, turn around, and hand it to the Dom who ordered it. He thanks me, pays, and leaves. Now June and I are alone, and I turn back to her once more. She’s more tense than I’ve ever seen her, which is a shock. June does a great job pretending to be laid back and relaxed while she works the bar, but the truth is that she’s always watching.
She’s like Piper in that sense, only June isn’t running from anything but herself, as far as I can tell.
“June,” I lower my voice. “Do we need to go talk?”
“I’m not interested in sex, Maddox.”
“I’m not asking you to sleep with me, darling, and not to be crude, but my heart belongs to another.”
Fuck.
Did I really just fucking admit that out loud?
A slow smile spreads over June’s face and she shakes her head.
“Damn, I’m going to owe Thorn twenty bucks.”
“Called it, did he?”
“Awhile ago.”
“So we gonna talk here or do I need to have someone come man the bar?”
I have no problem taking June to the office where we can speak privately. We’ve known each other only a short while, but I’m one of her best guys, as far as I can tell. I’ve always been straight with her and now I’m asking the same of her.
She looks around the room slowly, her eyes floating from one person to another. Finally, they land on Macie and Anthony. She catches Macie’s eye and motions her over.
“What’s up?” Macie asks, smiling brightly.
“Can the two of you take over the bar for the next hour or so?” She asks. “I’ll pay you, of course, and the tips are yours. I just need to go take care of something.”
“Everything all right?” Anthony looks me up and down, seemingly assessing me.
“Everything’s fine,” June says. She reaches into a drawer and pulls out her wristlet and keys, and then she turns back to us. “I just need to deal with a minor personal problem.”
Anthony leans in and whispers something to June. Instantly, her entire body relaxes.
“Thank you,” she says. She kisses Macie on the cheek, and then she leads me out of the dungeon and down a narrow side hallway.
Everything in Anchored is small and narrow. This is because before June bought the mini cruise ship, it was literally a cruise ship. Things are tight and constricted because, well, the designers tried to fit as much as possible into a small space. They did a great job, and June has done an even better job redesigning the little boat into an incredible sex club where people of all ages, backgrounds, and lifestyles can come to relax, unwind, and have fun.
It’s perfect.
She opens the door to her office and enters before me. Then June heads to the table beside her desk and pours herself a good ol’ glass of whiskey. I rarely see June drink, and something tells me she’s not playing around now.
“Sit,” she says, and I sit. Not for the first time, I sense a hit of Domme in June. I call her a sub all the time, and she always denies it, but the truth is that she’s not just a sub. She never could be. Not June. No, she’s a switch if I ever saw one, but that’s for her to discover.
There’s a reason June never plays at Anchored.
Ever.
She always says it’s because she’s just the bartender, that it’s just not her scene, that she’s never been into the lifestyle, but the people who believe that lie are the ones who don’t know June designed Anchored. She created it from the ground up. She poured her heart, sole, and finances into making this an incredible play space.
I follow her lead and sit in front of her desk, and then I do what a Dom does best: I wait. I wait as she paces for a minute. I wait as she slams down her whiskey. I wait as she finally collapses at her desk and looks up at me.
“I don’t know what I should tell you,” she says finally, and suddenly, June looks very, very tired.
“Is it about Piper?”
“Yes.”
“Then you should tell me everything.”
“Does she know you used to be a cop?”
“No.”
“She doesn’t like cops, Maddox.” June runs a hand through her soft, dark hair. She’s beautiful, really. June and I have never had that sort of relationship. We’ve never slept together. We’ve never kissed. We’ve flirted like mad because it’s fun, and Anchored is all about having a good time, but June and I would never happen. Still, I can appreciate how damn gorgeous she is, and I wish she realized just how fantastic of a person she really is.
“Why doesn’t she like cops, June?”
“She says they let her down,” June narrows her eyes at me, and I get what she’s saying.
As I suspected, Piper was abused.
It’s a strange thing, abuse. People want you to run to the cops, but then when you do, sometimes there’s nothing that can be done. Maybe there’s not enough evidence or maybe the asshole has an alibi. Maybe he does go to jail, for a little while, and then he’s released and the entire cycle begins again.
No matter how good of a cop someone is, they can’t be everywhere at once. I can’t save every battered woman who comes through the doors. I can’t protect every person. No matter how hard I fight, how hard I try, how hard I believe, I can’t save them all, and it was that
realization that prompted me to leave the force.
I haven’t looked back.
“I’m not a cop anymore, June, and I won’t let her down.”
“I know, but there’s something you need to know if you really want Piper.”
“Tell me.”
June leans back in her seat. “Piper is fantastic.”
“I know.”
“The best IT person I’ve ever had,” June continues. “She single-handedly designed the website for me, created the secure member portal, and handles all of the on-site tech security stuff.”
“You were lucky to find her.”
“Luck…it’s such a funny thing, isn’t it?” June swivels around in her chair and turns back to me. She’s still worried about opening up to me. She’s still worried she’s going to betray her friend, but something is going on with Piper, something June knows they can’t handle on their own.
“June…”
“She ran away,” June finally says. “She had to. Piper moved to Westbrook from Cherryville around the same time I opened the club. She never told me why she came here, but she didn’t have to. When I met her, she had a black eye and exactly one – read one – duffel bag to her name. That’s it. I helped her find a house in a safe, quiet neighborhood, and that’s all. That’s the extent of what she’ll tell anyone about her past. She’ll tell people she came here because she wanted a change of scenery, whatever the fuck that means, but it’s a lie.”
“She won’t talk about what she’s running from?”
“Nope,” June shakes her head. “But I can tell you that.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Been doing a little snooping in your free time, June?”
“I’m a businesswoman, Maddox Blake. I like to know exactly what kind of shit might land on my doorstep long before it arrives.”
She pulls out a key and unlocks her bottom desk drawer, and then she pulls out a folder and hands it to me.
“What’s this?”
“Police records.”
I look up at her sharply. “Do I want to know how you got these, June?”
“Are you sure you aren’t still a cop?”
“Not a cop.”
