She shook her head. “I… He stayed long enough to name me and then returned to India.”
“Ah.” Didn’t sound like an emotional tie, not enough for tears from this tough little sub. “How about your mother?” She tried to get up, and he simply set his arm over her legs. “You’re not going anywhere, sprite, and neither am I. Your mom; tell me.”
“She died. A long time ago, when I was eight.” She frowned at him. “I’m sorry I wussed out on you. It won’t happen again.”
Sure it won’t. “That’s a rough age to lose a mother. So who did you live with?”
She jerked as if he’d slapped her instead of asking a question, then answered in an unemotional voice, “My stepfather, but he didn’t want me. I lived with different relatives.” She stared across the clearing, not meeting his eyes.
“But you ended up with Harvey?” Jake remembered the old guy. Tough as granite up to when he had died of a heart attack last year.
A sweet smile appeared. “I was fourteen. He kept me.” The note of wonder in her voice made Jake’s heart constrict. God, how could the assholes have left her so insecure?
He frowned. This was nastier than could be dealt with in a night, but he could reduce one minor worry. “Kallie.”
Her eyes met his.
“I never, ever leave a sub who is restrained. I was just on the other side of the fire. In fact, if you hadn’t been blindfolded, I’d have realized you were crying sooner.” And damn him for not checking more closely. “I’m sorry you were frightened.”
She shrugged, although her lips still quivered slightly. “I’m sorry for being such a wimp. I don’t know why…”
Why it hit her so hard. But restraints, pain, even orgasms could dissolve layers of defenses, leaving a sub vulnerable. Old emotions could surface without warning. He’d work on this insecurity of hers more in the future—no, he wouldn’t. No ties. What the hell was he thinking? In fact, what was he thinking when he’d blindfolded her, doing something that increased dependence and deepened trust—he never used blindfolds with play subs. He scowled and saw her worry double.
Damn, he sucked as a dom tonight. “Sugar, you haven’t done anything wrong. I’m angry with myself, not you.”
Her gorgeous, big eyes searched his face, and her muscles slowly relaxed. Good.
“But, Ms. Show No Fear, you need to tell your dom if you’re nervous. Not being omnipotent, we don’t always catch the signs.” He rubbed his knuckles over her cheek, feeling the slight dampness remaining. And damn him for missing the clues. “A dom might still go ahead, but he’ll watch more closely if he knows something worries you.”
Her brows had drawn together, but she nodded.
“And you have that safe word for a reason, sprite. It’s not just for physical overload, but for an emotional one as well.” He paused again. If she went further into the lifestyle—and the thought of someone else topping her bothered the hell out of him—she needed to be able to communicate. “I don’t want you to forget that again.”
“Yes, Sir.” Her tense little body had relaxed into the snuggly one he had trouble resisting, so he sealed the discussion with a long, gentle kiss.
When he’d taken his fill and her arms had crept around his neck, he pulled back and glanced around. The others had left to get dressed and returned to talk quietly by the fire. “Heather, could you bring me a cup of hot chocolate?”
“Sure, Jake.”
A minute later, she handed him a cup, and he sipped. Just right. “Here you go, pet.”
Kallie squirmed to an upright position on his lap and took the cup with steady hands. She took a drink, smiled, and had some more, then tried to hand it to Jake.
“No, I don’t want any more tonight. Rebecca insists chocolate is a remedy for all woes, but for me it’s just a nice campfire drink.”
Her husky chuckle lightened his evening. Then she tilted her head. “But you drank some…”
“Just testing to make sure it wasn’t too hot for you.”
The look she gave him held outright disbelief.
He laughed, then sobered. The sprite suffered from a serious lack of pampering, dammit. And damn him for wanting to fix that.
* * *
Early Friday evening, Kallie hopped out of her Jeep and trotted into Serenity Lodge. Although the air outside was hot and dry, her hands were cold. Her skin felt itchily sensitive. A little voice inside her chanted maybe Jake will be here, maybe Jake will be here until she wanted to thump her head on the door frame.
She wandered across the empty main room and spotted Rebecca setting the table in the dining room. It was almost a relief not to see Jake. Almost.
Rebecca smiled. “Kallie. Are you guiding someone today?”
“Nope. I think Heather left this in the gear.” She held up the flat electronic reading device. “Is she here?”
“They decided to run into Yosemite Park for the day.” Rebecca waved off Kallie’s attempt to hand it to her. “Nah. I don’t have time to deal with it right now. Jake’s in the rec room. Give it to him.”
Kallie opened her mouth to reply and noted the smug expression on Rebecca’s face. Nothing like being set up. “Now that’s just mean.”
“I know.” Rebecca pointed to a door at the far end of the main room. “Put on your big-girl panties and go on in.”
That did it. “City girl, I’m looking forward to that trip to Little Bear Mountain with you.” Not waiting for an answer, she continued. “You’ll discover the wilderness is full of life: bears that steal your food, cougars that attack the horses, rattlesnakes looking for a warm sleeping bag to crawl into.”
Rebecca’s mouth dropped open.
“If the goddess—and that would be me, by the way—is displeased, you’ll get bats in your hair and mice in your boots.” Kallie gave her a thin smile and then stomped across the room. She thinks I’m a coward? Just because Jake and I have done…kinky stuff…doesn’t mean I worry about facing him. Or how he affects me.
She stepped into a room that would have her cousins drooling with envy. Dart board, pool table, foosball, and Ping-Pong tables.
Jake leaned against the wall, drinking a beer, while Logan racked the balls and the massive dog sprawled off to one side. When the men smiled at Kallie, her cheeks turned hot. Dammit. “I—”Not affected, remember? “Heather left this in the gear. Can you get it back to her?”
When the dog padded over, she bent to pet it for a few seconds, hopefully hiding her blush.
“Not a problem.” Logan took the electronic device. “Thanks for bringing it out. How ’bout you stay for supper as a reward? We’re eating in half an hour, and Becca’s a fantastic cook.”
“No, but thanks for the offer.” She took a step toward the door. Jake hadn’t said a word. Wasn’t he even going to greet her? “I need to get back.”
Jake tilted his head and studied her. “Do you really have something planned?”
“I—” Hell. “I always have things that have to be done.”
As one half of his mouth quirked up, that tantalizing crease appeared in his left cheek. “In other words, no.” He set his beer on a card table and glanced at Logan. “Tell Becca one more for supper.”
Kallie pulled up straight. “Listen, I—”
He advanced on her, as unstoppable as a forest fire in a strong wind. When she held up her hand in protest, he chuckled and used it to haul her over his shoulder. “We’ll be upstairs, bro,” he said. “I have a craving to play dress-up.”
“Damn you, Hunt. Put me down.”
Ignoring her orders and her fists pounding his back, he hummed a tune and blatantly fondled her butt. They crossed the main room, going past Rebecca—not that Kallie saw her, but the snicker was evidence enough. An electronic keypad beeped, a door opened, and Jake started up a flight of stairs.
Kallie gave up. She hadn’t expected to be hijacked, but face it: she’d hoped for…something. If Jake Hunt wanted his hands on her, she wasn’t about to argue. She laughed and thumped h
im one more time with her fist…just because.
He wasn’t even breathing hard when he entered a door down the hall and dumped her on a couch. “Stay put for a minute, sprite.”
As he disappeared into another room, she struggled to a sitting position. How did he do this to her? She’d dated before, made love before. And yet the man made her feel like a teenager out with a guy for the first time.
She rose to her feet. “Stay put?” Dream on, Hunt. She strolled around the room, trying to ignore how snug her bra had grown and how each step scraped her jeans over her increasingly sensitive clit.
Nice place, she decided. Cream-colored walls with original paintings of Yosemite…signed by Rebecca. Kallie checked the signature again. Rebecca had mentioned she painted. She was really, really good.
A chess table stood in one corner. The shelves over it held seashells and coral. The next wall displayed framed photographs of family and friends in settings that ranged from a cattle ranch to tropical beaches. Apparently he not only liked to travel, but he also had a lot of friends. Mr. Sociable himself.
A wide-screen TV—of course—on the far wall. Considering the decor downstairs, she’d expected more leather up here, but his oversize furniture was upholstered in a dark blue fabric. Rag rugs in a mingling of blue, green, and white covered the hardwood floor. The room had a homey atmosphere.
Her sense of comfort disappeared when Jake returned, his arms filled with fabric. “Strip.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You know, we need to work on your social skills. You can’t snap out orders to a guest.”
“Oh. Was I too terse?” He cocked his head and gave her a mean smile. “Kalinda, you will remove every item of clothing immediately or suffer the consequences.”
She took a step back as the steely glint in his eyes did funny things to her heartbeat.
“Was that better?”
“Uh, not exactly what—”
“Now, Kalinda.”
Her mouth went dry. But there’s only half an hour before supper kept running through her head, as if that made a difference to someone like Jake. She unbuttoned her flannel shirt, shrugged it off, and removed her boots, socks, and jeans.
And then he got that disapproving expression again, as if the sight of her body displeased him. “Would you stop looking at me like that?” she burst out.
He lifted an eyebrow. “What way?”
“If you don’t like the way I look, why do I keep ending up—”
His laugh rang out, full and strong, and she balled her hand into a fist. If he tried to touch her, she’d belt him one.
He yanked her against him so quickly she didn’t have a chance. His ruthless hands roamed over her back and her butt, and her desire to punch him burned to ashes in the blast of heat.
“I love your body, sprite. So much that what you wear offends my senses.” He unfastened her bra and tossed it on the floor, then ripped her panties in two. “You have the ugliest underwear I’ve ever seen.”
“My underwear? You’ve been frowning at me for two years because of my underwear?”
He eyed her face and started laughing so hard that she swung at him. He caught her fist as easily as if it were a buzzing mosquito. “You hit me, sugar, and I’ll spank your ass—even if we’re late for supper.”
She tried to yank her hand out of his grasp and got nowhere, and then he palmed her right breast, teased the nipple, and turned her legs to water.
“And I not only dislike your underwear, but the rest of your wardrobe too. I understand the need for hiking gear when you’re hiking, but why don’t you wear girl clothes at other times?” He asked the question in an easy voice, but there was nothing casual about the way he scrutinized her.
She started to answer and stopped. “Well.” She vaguely remembered the last sexy top she’d bought, back as a teenager, and how her cousins had behaved, like she’d turned into a slut or something. “It’s easier”— to not rock the boat—“to stay in the same clothes.” She shrugged. “I don’t even own anything fancy.”
“Ah.” The sense of satisfaction that the sprite had never dressed provocatively for a man was a little unsettling. As was the impression that laziness had little to do with her choice of attire. “Well, if you like it easier, I’ll do all the work this time.”
That delightfully suspicious look appeared on her face—the one that said he had all the control and she didn’t think she should like it. Even if she trusted him completely, he’d still enjoy provoking her. A dom shouldn’t allow a sub to get too comfortable, after all. But in her case, it didn’t take much effort.
Right now, he intended not only to please himself by putting her in feminine clothing, but he wanted to see what effect a change of clothing would have on her. Push the boundaries a little. He paused. He shouldn’t be doing this.
And then he slid the bra he’d chosen up her arms and fastened it.
“You bought me underwear?” She sounded so appalled that he chuckled.
She stiffened when he reached into the cups to adjust her breasts, so he took his time until her nipples puckered under his palms. He stepped back to survey the results. The push-up bra gave her the prettiest cleavage, and when she looked down, her eyes got big.
Damn, she was cute.
He dropped a deep pink top over her head. The low neckline with an edging of lace framed her breasts nicely, and he nodded approval, then added a long, silky skirt.
“What is it with you guys and pink?” she muttered, staring at the clothes.
“It’s feminine,” he said, and pulled her to the bathroom mirror. “And a damned good color on you too.”
Her mouth formed an O as she took in her appearance. The top hugged her breasts and waist, and the dark pink skirt flowed smoothly over her grabable, full ass.
“What about…briefs?”
“You’ll go without tonight,” Jake said.
She whipped around. “I can’t go without underwear.”
He crossed his arms and stared her down, enjoying the way her eyes lowered. The flush of pink in her cheeks now matched her skirt. “You can. You will. Because that’s how I want it.”
She swallowed.
He stepped back and smiled, showing her the pleasure he found in her appearance. “You look lovely, Kallie. You’re a beautiful woman. Now and then you might give us poor men a treat and dress like one.”
That she should look so confounded saddened him. Hadn’t anyone ever complimented her beauty?
“Thank you,” she said softly. Then her stubborn little chin rose. “But why no panties?”
He stepped closer and cupped her cheek and whispered back, “So that when I decide to take you—downstairs or up here—there’s nothing in my way.”
Her response was beautiful…and now he’d have to suffer from having a hard-on all through supper. Hell.
* * *
On the day before the Fourth, he settled into a chair beside his tent in his favorite Yosemite campground. He’d start a fire, make some supper. Then maybe hike one more time before sundown. The forests comforted him and dimmed the discordant noise in his head. One or two years ago—he lost track of time—he’d realized the clamor and the incoherent voices came from the evil ones. Some people, like him, could sense demonic energy—could actually hear it.
He’d enjoyed the short hike he’d just taken, and the peaceful trail had allowed his tension to ease away.
But now a woman’s shrill voice scraped across his nerves. He turned and spotted the young couple at the campsite next to him. The woman wore a purple tank top that displayed her lush breasts, and her hair spilled over her shoulders. Her dark, dark hair. Her voice grew louder as she deliberately yelled at her poor boyfriend in front of their tent, right out where everyone could witness the man’s humiliation.
He watched as the demon rose inside her and peeked out of her brown eyes, so clearly visible he was surprised everyone didn’t scream and run. But no one else saw. This was his gift—his curse.
; As the demon screamed in a mind-piercing voice, the boyfriend hunched his shoulders, clenching his hands at his side. Short but muscular, the young man could have flattened her with one blow, but no, men didn’t hit women. The fool. Couldn’t he see that his girlfriend wasn’t there anymore, that a demon had shredded her soul into such darkness that it shone through her eyes?
No, instead the man simply took her abuse, feeling like a failure. A loser. Less of a man.
He couldn’t let that continue, and it would. Over and over until the man had nothing left, as the demon tore his spirit down with words and screams and insults.
Master of the Abyss Page 12
