Doms of Dark Haven 2: Western Night

by Sierra Cartwright, Belinda McBride,

  “A farm to San Francisco? That’s a jump.” He eyed her. “You got a job and moved?”

  “Unfortunately, no.” She gave a short…bitter…laugh. “Innocent me—I fell for a guy visiting Nebraska, and he asked me to come here and live with him.”

  “Something went wrong?”

  “The usual. He discovered he liked someone better and showed me the door.” She scowled at her hands. “God, I was stupid.”

  “Risking something for love isn’t stupid, honey.” Her unhappy expression squeezed his chest and pissed him off. A shame the guy wasn’t around to have his face rearranged. “What happened after you broke up?”

  “Mom and Andy were strapped for money at the time, so I was stuck with no friends and no job. I didn’t have my RN license for California yet. I finally got work as a waitress. It was just one of those life lessons in survival.” Her voice sounded light, but he saw the shadows in her eyes.

  He pulled her closer, although there was no protecting someone from her past.

  After a second, she shrugged and smiled slightly. “Then again, I’d gotten out of Nebraska to San Francisco. I’d never have dreamed of moving so far on my own. There’s always a bright side.”

  “And you’re the type who’d find it.” He tipped her face up and kissed her. Everything he learned seemed to slide her farther into his heart. A kiss only, he reminded himself. More would frighten her. Time to find out why.

  She’d be happy kissing him forever, Summer decided.

  He nipped her lower lip and pulled back. “Now tell me about the incident Simon mentioned.” His voice had deepened and roughened—not a request, but an order.

  Her breath fled. “That—”

  “Summer, I need to know what happened. Not only because you mean something to me”—he kissed her palm—“but also because I’m your dom.” His eyes pinned her. “Now tell me.”

  He was right…and she didn’t want to think about it, especially now in the sweetness of the afternoon with him.

  He waited, as immovable as the mountains around them.

  “Fine.” She tried to pull her hand back…unsuccessfully. No retreat, physical or emotional. “I’d met a dom at Dark Haven. The party at Simon’s house was our first date outside of the club.” God, she’d acted so recklessly.

  “Sounds like it should have been safe,” he said mildly, his tone nonjudgmental.

  “I’m only grateful I didn’t go to his apartment instead.” She stared at her hand, enclosed within his warm fingers. “When we arrived, he wanted a private spot to play.” She didn’t think about the similarity to Virgil’s complaint until she felt his fingers tighten. Oh God. An apology would make it worse, so she forged on. “He found an isolated place under the stairs and chained me to a post there. And gagged me.”

  She swallowed against the memory of the taste of the rubber ball-gag. Drool running down my chin, so humiliating. Choking on the gag. She’d shaken her head, used her safe word. He’d understood her. Ignored her. The blooming of fear. Horror.

  “Go on.” Virgil brought her back.

  “He used a cane.” Each strike had sent bladelike pain all the way to the bone. “He heard me use my safe word, over and over, but the gag kept anyone else from hearing me.” Agonizing blow after blow, as if my skin was being sliced to pieces. The whole world red with pain. She screamed, pulled at the restraints, tearing her wrists, an animal, mindless. “He laughed…and kept hitting me.”

  Silence.

  She looked up. He’d closed his eyes, his face like stone. “Virgil?” His eyes opened, so green and cold with anger that she flinched.

  She saw his effort to calm, to force his muscles to relax before he said quietly, “I’m sorry, baby, but the thought of you hurt and helpless makes me…unhappy.” He put his arm around her, pulling her close. “So what happened?”

  His arm was heavy. Warm. His controlled strength pushed her memories back, clearing a space for thoughts. “Rona, Simon’s sub, happened. She walked past and realized I was saying ‘red.’ Her yelling brought Simon and everyone else.” She rubbed her head against his chest. “The Hunt brothers were there too.”

  “Logan, Jake, and Simon?” The almost palpable vibration of his anger diminished. “Is the son-of-a-bitch dom still alive?”

  She tried to laugh through the tightness of her throat. “I found out yesterday Simon broke his nose, and the Hunts walloped him before they tossed him out.”

  “Not nearly enough,” Virgil muttered. “How badly beat up were you?”

  Waves of pain filling her until even the air seemed edged in fire. She shuddered and yanked herself from the memory. Thank God the post had protected her front. “I hurt for a while,” she said lightly.

  “Don’t hand me bullshit, Summer. If I ask, I want a truthful answer.”

  “Fine then, I hurt like hell,” she snapped. “I had welts pretty much everywhere. Bruises over the bones, places where my skin had split, and I peed blood for two days.”

  “Jesus.” He yanked her onto his lap, holding her so tightly her ribs creaked. “No wonder you have problems. You have a couple scars on your back. Are they…?”

  “Yeah.” He’d seen them. Hadn’t said anything. “A friend—another nurse—took me home with her. I had good care.”

  “I’m surprised you even considered BDSM after that.” The respect in his voice was heartening.

  She rubbed her cheek on his chest. “I hadn’t planned to, but Simon dragged me back.”

  Virgil snarled under his breath, and she realized her error. Dragged. “No, I said that wrong. Rona’s in admin at my hospital, and after I returned to work, she recognized me from the party. One day, Simon showed up, bought me coffee in the cafeteria, and quizzed me about my experience, what I wanted, what I’d liked. I guess he could tell I…” Want it. Need it. “Anyway, he and Rona talked me into going back with them. They babysat me. He kept introducing me to experienced doms, but they scared me. I preferred…easier ones.”

  “I understand.” His chin rested on the top of her head. “I’m glad I came along when you were finally ready, baby,” he said.

  She hesitated, but his warmth somehow opened her like a springtime flower. “I don’t think I’d have ever been ready,” she admitted. “I don’t know why, but I trust you. Even when you scare me.”

  “Mmm.” His arms tightened. “Then we’ll go on from here.”

  * * *

  Night had fallen by the time they got back to the lodge. On the porch, Summer turned to say good night and tripped over Logan’s scarred-up dog that sprawled in front of the door. Sitting beside him, a giant cat watched with unblinking eyes.

  “Have you met Thor and Mufasa, Summer?” Virgil performed the introductions with as much formality as he had with Laurette.

  After the dog lifted a paw for her to shake, the cat padded over.

  “You really are a beauty, even if you’re huge,” Summer said and offered her finger.

  Mufasa sniffed the digit carefully, then politely nudged it with her cheek. Accepted. You may pet me.

  Grinning, Summer complied. The tabby-colored hair was soft and thick with the winter’s undercoat. How had she gone so long without an animal to love? “I want a dog.”

  “Why not have one?” Virgil gave Thor a full-body scratch that had the dog shivering in delight.

  “I could barely afford my tiny apartment, definitely not one allowing pets. Maybe I can get one once I’m settled.” Longing filled her heart. A dog to love. Something that needed her.

  “I hope you do.” Virgil bent to give her a warm kiss. “I’ll get back here by nine. Be in the lodge, dressed and ready to play.” He drew his finger slowly along her jaw. “I’m looking forward to having my hands on your body again. To hear the sounds you make when I suck your nipples. To feel you coming around my cock.”

  At his words and the flammable look in his eyes, her insides melted like ice under a hot sun.

  The corner of his mouth turned up with satisfaction. He s
et something in her hand—a package and a packet of lube. “This is to prepare that little asshole of yours. Put it in now and remove it before you come to the lodge.”

  She frowned at the anal plug. He’d touch her there, hold her hips as he pushed into her. He’d hurt her—and please her. She shivered as he held her gaze. Self-assured. Firm. She nodded, her mouth too dry to form a word.

  “That’s my girl,” he said so softly it was like a brush of wind against her heart.

  Chapter Ten

  A little before nine, Summer shrugged out of her coat and left her boots in the row by the door. She grinned at the music Logan had selected to start off the night. The snapping whip in Lambert’s For Your Entertainment was echoed by a real one farther down the room. In the glow of wall sconces and firelight, Doms and subs set up for their play, laying out toys to use, checking tools and restraints. Nearby, a naked sub stood patiently while her dom wrapped her in rope for a suspension scene.

  Off to one side, Logan had his arm around Rebecca, supervising. He gave Summer a once-over. “Very sexy, sugar.”

  She smiled, heartened by his compliment and Rebecca’s subtle thumbs-up. Maybe she hadn’t wasted her time with an hour of primping. She’d copied MaryAnn and braided a few locks of hair, adding in dark blue beads that matched her bustier and leather skirt. She’d gone heavier with her makeup, so her eyes looked bigger. With luck, her glossy lipstick would have Virgil demanding a blowjob.

  She’d like to give him a blowjob. Oh yeah. Two nights now and she still hadn’t had a chance to play with his cock. Maybe start by running her tongue over the head. Just as a tease. Maybe he’d wrap her hair around his hand and—

  The door opened to a blast of frigid air and swirling snowflakes, and a bear-sized man stepped in. Virgil. Every nerve in her body turned happy handsprings.

  He tossed his coat in the heap on a couch and stomped the snow off. Typical BDSM attire of black jeans and boots. But what kind of dom wore a flannel shirt, even if it was black? She shook her head. The man sure did things his own way.

  His gaze moved down her body, pausing on her breasts, her thighs and legs, and fire lit his eyes, igniting a matching flame inside her. He tilted his head. “You are the sexiest, prettiest woman I’ve seen in just about forever.”

  The sincerity in his voice staggered her. Sure, she’d thought she looked good, but somehow when he said it, the impact was entirely different. “Thank you, Sir.”

  Virgil nodded at Logan, then set an arm over her shoulder. “Let’s get some water, and we’ll talk about tonight.”

  Halfway to the kitchen, Simon called Virgil over to the fireplace. “Rona wants to ski while we’re here. Can you recommend a place?”

  “A couple of them are good. Do you have a pen?” Virgil asked.

  Looked like they’d be at it for a few minutes. “I’ll get the water and come back,” Summer said.

  “Thank you, sweetie.” Virgil squeezed her arm gratefully. “We won’t talk long, I promise.”

  She entered the kitchen, feeling appreciated. And sexy.

  A hefty, potbellied man stood by the counter. “Hey there, hottie,” he said with a leer and waggled his beer at her.

  Maybe there were times sexy wasn’t so good. “Hi.” She gave him a politely cool smile.

  Stepping past him to get to the refrigerator, she noticed that instead of the popular cop or military fetwear, he wore a gas company uniform. How odd.

  When he took a long pull of the beer, she frowned. Dark Haven had strict rules about no alcohol before BDSM play. “Quite a party,” he said, jerking his chin at the doorway.

  “Uh-huh.” She started to pull open the refrigerator door.

  She felt a hand run down her butt to between her legs. Dammit! She spun around and glared at him.

  He snorted. “Don’t give me that pure and innocent expression. I saw what’s going on in there. One big orgy. So we’re going to have one out here, just you and me.” His gaze traveled down her body like a wash of slime.

  What a creep. “Not interested.”

  His face reddened, his expression changing until it had nothing to do with domination and everything to do with violence and rape. “Cunt. No cunt talks to me that way.” His words echoed in the kitchen…the very empty kitchen.

  Uneasiness skittered across her nerves as she realized he had her cornered between the massive table and the wall of appliances.

  She retreated a step and stopped. Jaw tight, she shook off the encroaching panic. I’m not restrained, not gagged. Not helpless. Straightening her back, she gave him a steady stare. “Leave now, before this goes any further.”

  He rubbed his crotch, his piggy eyes on her. “You’re giving it away free; I’m going to get me some snatch too.” She could smell the alcohol on his breath.

  A drunk. That’s very bad. Her heart began to hammer against her tightening chest. Summer planted her feet, her hands fisting. Then, not being stupid, she yelled, “Help!”

  “Fucking bitch!” He grabbed at her.

  Smothering a squeak, she knocked his arm aside. With all her strength, she punched him in the jaw. Pain burst in her knuckles.

  He staggered back—right into Virgil. Virgil stepped in front of him, set a hand on his chest, and casually shoved. The creep hit the refrigerator door with a horrible thump, and his eyes went unfocused.

  Virgil studied Summer for a moment, then gave her a fleeting smile that did nothing to warm the ice in his eyes.

  Well. Talk about a timely rescue. She realized her hands were still fisted and uncurled her fingers.

  “Not a good plan, buddy.” Virgil’s voice was mild. “Supposedly the last poor fucker here who tried rape was given to the femdommes who whipped all the skin off his back…and his dick.”

  It took a minute for the man to figure it out. Then his face paled. “Hey, don’t—nothin’ happened.” He gave Summer a pleading look. “I got carried away.”

  He edged sideways to avoid Virgil. Once free, he staggered toward the back door. Catching sight of Logan and Simon in the doorway, he shrank another inch and sped up.

  Logan’s face looked like stone when he glanced at Summer. “I’m sorry, sugar. His gas truck broke down. Since the tow truck can’t get out here until morning, I gave him a cabin. He wasn’t supposed to leave it.”

  Her throat was almost too dry for the words to get past. “Not your fault he didn’t obey.” She hugged herself, feeling as if her bones were covered in ice.

  “Summer.” Virgil’s deep voice drew her gaze. He held out his hand. She hesitated only a second, then flew into his arms.

  He enclosed her in safety and warmth, rocking her gently. “Good punch, slugger,” he said against her ear. “You okay?”

  She nodded, knowing the way she’d attached herself to his waist might tell him differently. He didn’t call her on it, just held her firmly. His flannel shirt felt soft under her cheek, with a homelike scent of laundry detergent.

  Around her, the men talked quietly. Logan growled that he’d make sure the man never worked anywhere around Yosemite again, then started grumbling about Virgil’s tall tale. “Whip-cracking dommes?”

  Virgil chuckled. “Gullible bastard believed it.”

  “I rather enjoyed the story,” Simon said. “I was afraid you’d mop the floor with him instead of terrifying him with femdommes.”

  Virgil shrugged. “Summer nailed him good, I’d say. And I’ve had my fill of violence. I’ll bust somebody’s chops if that’s what it takes, but there’s usually a better choice.”

  Summer lifted her head and met Simon’s gaze. He smiled slightly, and she realized he was still trying to help her.

  But she’d started to think she knew Virgil Masterson. She rubbed her cheek against his hard chest, then pulled back. “How’d you get to the kitchen so fast?”

  “I was almost here. I don’t like leaving you alone for long, not at this kind of party.” He ran a finger across her jaw.

  “Oh.” Like having her own guardi
an angel. Why did she find that so comforting? “Thanks for the protection.”

  “Part of the job description,” he murmured.

  She tilted her head. “Which job?”

  His eyes crinkled. “All of them, baby. All of them.” From the wry humor in his smile, he meant it too. “Let me grab some water, and we’ll find a place to talk a bit.”

  He was willing to play here even when he didn’t want to…just because she was a coward. How could she think he’d ever hurt her? And how long would she let Dirk sabotage her life? “Actually”—all the air seemed to have been sucked out of the room, so she took a second to find some—“I’d just as soon talk at your place, if it’s still an option.”

  She’d surprised him. His eyes sharpened, and he studied her face for a long, long moment. Then his gaze flickered over her shoulders, her hands. A cop’s stare. A dom’s assessment. Finally he nodded with a fleeting smile. “It’s definitely an option. Do you want to grab anything from your cabin, or should I tuck you in the truck while you still have the courage?”

  Oh. Very good point. “Let’s make a run for it.”

  His growly laugh filled the room. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

  * * *

  When Virgil turned the truck down a tiny road, Summer worked on controlling her breathing. Almost there. The dirt road widened into a small open valley. A barn and stockades sat off to the right, and farther out, snowy pastures glowed in the moonlight. The headlights showed the dark forest flowing up the mountain on the left and then illumined a massive two-story log house.

  He took her in through a side door. After removing her boots, he led the way up the stairs and opened one of the two doors, flipping on the light.

  She smiled at his warm and cozy living room. Cushy chairs of brown and tan plaid flanked a huge dark green sofa. A newspaper lay discarded on a leather ottoman. Across the room, an open door revealed a large bedroom. Well, damn. The man had himself a second floor suite that was as big as her apartment.

  As he went to hang her coat up, she curled and uncurled her toes in the thick brown carpet. I’m not scared. Uh-uh.