“What do you want mixed in with this? And what kind of bread?”
“Nothing. And no bread.” Daphne grabbed a fork and sat down at the table to eat right from the can. “That stuff’s horribly fattening.”
Allie turned to pour coffee and hide the blush creeping up her face. She tried not to think about the pictures of herself scattered throughout the house. She was certainly not skinny like Daphne, but she had been learning to accept herself as she was. Being part of the leather community had shown her that normal women were sexy even if they didn’t live on diet pills and air. But it was hard to remember that when there was an anorexic singer in the house, flirting mercilessly with every male in sight, including her two men.
She put a packet of artificial sweetener in Daphne’s coffee and set the cup on the table. To get the conversation away from food and weight, she forced a smile onto her face. “So tell me, Daphne. When did you and Finn meet?”
“Centuries ago.” Daphne leaned back and tossed the empty tuna can into the garbage. Allie refrained from getting up and retrieving it to rinse and put with the recyclables. She could do that after Daphne went to the barn. Instead she poured herself a cup of coffee and defiantly added creamer to it.
Daphne stared morosely at her mug, apparently hoping to magically change it into something alcoholic. “He dated my college roommate for a while. We stayed friends even after that was over. He became my manager two—no, three years ago. Sometimes he’s more like a big brother, though. He never wants me to have any fun. The other night when we went to that little bar in town, I was going to follow your lead. I had these two hot guys all ready to come back here, but Finn stepped in and ruined the whole thing. Then he wouldn’t even take care of me when we got back. I had to use my vibrator. I don’t know what his problem is.”
Allie stopped herself from mentioning that everybody in the house had heard the argument over the two men as well as Daphne’s activities afterward. Daphne’s love of attention didn’t allow her to do anything quietly. Especially that. Not that Allie was going to complain about it. Sex, in all its forms, was what people came here for—to explore sensuality and sexual power exchange, and to watch other people doing the same thing. Loud public sex was nothing new in this house.
Allie laughed briefly. “It might look like an exciting one-night stand, but it’s really a lot of work. Besides, Finn obviously cares for you. Why haven’t you gotten together?”
Daphne looked a little wistful for a moment. Then she tossed her head in a gesture of defiance. “I’m having too much fun to be tied down now.” She giggled. “Although being tied down might be kind of fun, too, by the right person. Or people.”
“It certainly can be. But it works better with someone you know well and trust rather than two guys you pick up in a bar.”
Daphne stood up and headed for the back porch, carrying her coffee with her. “Maybe, but I don’t know if Finn’s got that much adventure in him.” She disappeared, the door slamming behind her.
Allie spent the morning doing laundry and tidying up. She’d had no idea how much of a mess one small singer with her retinue could make. At noon she fixed sandwiches for the crew and headed to the barn. Finn and Daphne were on the makeshift stage, working on the choreography of her new song “Daggers of Lust.” Between dance steps Finn was throwing out ideas for the set to Karl, a large, solid-looking man who sat off to the side and seemed to be sketching out Finn’s thoughts.
Allie went over and sat next to him, leaning into his shoulder to see his notebook. He stopped what he was doing and waited for her to finish looking before giving her a kiss.
Allie’s eyes went wide. No matter how much of his work she saw, Karl’s artistic talent always took her by surprise. “Wow. That’s going to look really cool!”
The drawing showed a backdrop of flames with knives and swords stuck into the floor or walls at various places on the stage. He pointed to the different items and whispered to her how Finn wanted them used during the song.
“Most of this will be photoshopped in later, including the flames. And Daphne will impale herself at the end on this sword.” He laughed at the expression on Allie’s face. “Don’t worry. There won’t be actual blood to clean up.”
“I think I might prefer it if there was,” Allie muttered, glancing at the woman on the stage. But then her attention was caught, and they watched for a few minutes in silence. Daphne showed no signs of her previous unsteadiness or reluctance. Focused and alert, her movements were graceful and athletic, as if she’d never touched a drop of alcohol in her life. She twirled and gyrated in heels that would have had Allie groping the wall praying not to break her neck.
Karl smiled. “You wouldn’t think it was the same person, would you? Or maybe you would.” Daphne had stopped and was hotly arguing with Finn about some part of the sequence.
They both watched in silent awe as Daphne kicked a leg above her head and did some kind of spin, landing in a split on the floor. Allie winced a little, imagining the mountain of painkillers that would be required afterward if she ever tried such a thing.
Karl grinned at her, no doubt reading her thoughts again. He had an unfortunate tendency to do that. “What’s for dinner?”
“I thought I’d try a new recipe. Sweet and sour ravioli.” Allie’s attention was immediately refocused. This was a much better topic than contemplating gymnastic stunts that would leave her hospitalized.
Karl’s grin faded. He glanced around as if expecting their guests to stage a rebellion then and there. “Are you sure?”
Allie laughed, rubbing his black, silky curls playfully. “It’ll be good, you’ll see. You never have any faith in my cooking, but it always turns out okay, doesn’t it?”
Karl nodded, a little reluctantly. “Usually. But we don’t want to scare away our guests. They’re paying a nice hefty sum to have all of their meals catered.”
“And it’s great practice for me,” Allie said happily, thinking of the brand new stack of cookbooks waiting in the kitchen, filled with hundreds of new and interesting ideas.
Karl put on his masterful face. “Yes, you can certainly experiment, but keep in mind that some people aren’t as—adventurous—as you are when it comes to food. We need to keep everybody happy.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll make a ‘normal’ entrée, too, and let people choose. I’d better go clean her room, now that I’ve got the chance.”
“Be careful.” Karl pulled her face toward him for another quick kiss.
“Seriously. I feel like I should wear a hazmat suit just to go in there. You wouldn’t believe the amount or the variety of liquor that girl can drink. I’m just grateful I’m not picking up syringes. I’m pretty sure I smelled the lingering odor of pot yesterday, though.”
Karl patted Allie’s ass as she turned to go. “Better check her smoke detector and make sure she didn’t take out the battery.”
Chapter 2
“I actually had to put another battery in her smoke detector.” Allie was dishing up dinner while Brad and Karl set the small kitchen table for them. Finn and Daphne and their crew were eating at the large dining room table in the next room.
Brad came over to sniff at the casserole dish Allie was pulling out of the oven. Tall and slim, he had broad shoulders and sandy hair, a couple of shades lighter than Allie’s dark blonde. He put his arms around her waist and rested his head on top of hers as she gingerly pulled aluminum foil from the top of the pan.
“What’s that? Something new?”
“Sweet and sour ravioli.” Allie tried not to seem nervous about her experiment as the scent of the dish wafted through the room. It didn’t smell bad, exactly. Different, definitely. But she’d promised herself when she’d decided to run a bed-and-breakfast that she would be known someday for her unusual but excellent cooking. She was compiling a list of recipes that seemed to work well. Unfortunately, that meant that there had been several that hadn’t. Out of the corner of her eye she caught the expression that pass
ed between her boyfriend and her Master. She twisted out of Brad’s arms and faced the two men.
“Come on, guys.” She put her hands on her hips and tried to look forceful. It usually worked on Brad, who liked to be dominated occasionally, but Karl was the undisputed boss here, and she had to be careful about that.
“Just asking, sweetie. Is that something everybody will like?” Brad rubbed the side of his nose, a sure sign he was uncomfortable.
Allie rounded on Karl. “Did you tell him to say that?”
Karl laughed, holding his hands up to protest his innocence. “Not me.”
Sighing in exasperation, she lifted the lid off a pot that was simmering on the stove. “I also made chicken Alfredo, for those who are too cowardly to try something different.”
“Chicken Alfredo?” Brad leaned in, sniffing appreciatively. Then he noticed Allie’s expression and hastily backed away. “But I’ll bet the ravioli thingies are much better.”
Allie opened her mouth to assure him that they would be, but the connecting door was pushed open, and Finn came in.
“I wanted to apologize for this morning,” he said. “And to see if there was anything I can help with.”
Allie gave him a reassuring smile, although she wanted to point out that it was Daphne, if anyone, who should be apologizing. “I’m just bringing in dinner. You can grab the salad and rolls if you want.”
He went over to the counter, but instead of picking up the food and heading back to the dining room, he grabbed a roll and began picking at it, looking thoughtful and a little disturbed.
“I know Daph can be a handful,” he said after a moment, relieving Allie’s anxious thought that there was something wrong with the bread. “I want you all to know how much I appreciate your willingness to put up with her. I don’t know what’s going on lately. I suspect that it might be the fact that she’ll be turning thirty soon. Maybe she’s feeling like she’s got to prove that she’s still a tough, wild rock star.”
Nobody said anything for a minute as Finn tore a piece off the roll and chewed it. “I’m trying to get through to her that she’s being self-destructive. The record label and her agent are just about to drop her. But she doesn’t really seem to care.”
“Drop her? For being wild? How do any albums get made if the labels are so concerned about that?” Brad asked.
Finn smiled. “Fair enough. But it’s not just the wild behavior. True, she’s shown up for concerts almost too drunk to perform, but that’s not particularly unusual. Their main problem is her—political liabilities, I guess you’d say. She’s causing some problems for people that don’t appreciate it. That’s something I wanted to talk to you guys about. I’m not asking you to watch her 24/7, but if you could help me make sure she doesn’t sneak out or anything. That sounds terrible, I know.” He scrubbed a hand over his forehead and rolled his eyes in exasperation. “God, if I knew I was going to be a fucking babysitter, I would never have taken this job. But she has so much potential, and when she’s focused, she’s absolutely unbelievable. You were there this afternoon. Have you ever seen anybody who could focus her energy the way Daphne can?”
They all stared at him now, unsure of what to say. Finally Karl spoke up. “So you’re saying you want us to keep her from leaving the premises? Because I don’t think—”
“No, no.” Finn cut him off. “She is an adult, even if she doesn’t usually act like it. If you could maybe just take my cell number and call me if it looks like she’s trying to leave. Of course, if she’s acting drunk, you’re certainly within your rights to keep her from driving.” He handed them each a business card then stopped, his head tilting.
“She’s coming down,” he said suddenly, grabbing the salad and rolls and rushing from the room. Allie shook her head silently at her men before picking up two dishes of pasta and following. When she’d explained the dinner options to Daphne and her retinue, ignoring their raised eyebrows at the unusual fare and Daphne’s declaration that she only wanted “a tiny bit of salad,” Allie returned to the kitchen to eat with her own family.
Both men were politely waiting for her to take her place before starting on their meals. They all had wineglasses in front of them, and Brad picked his up in a toast as Allie sat down.
“To a full house,” he said. “Just think, a year ago we weren’t sure if we were going to have any guests at all. Now we’re hosting rock stars. Who’d have thought being featured in Exotic Adventures Magazine would have led to this?”
“Speaking of that article, we had a call today from a woman named Susan who seemed terrified to be contacting us. It was kind of funny really, but don’t let me forget to email her some information.”
Allie snorted a bit, but Karl nodded in agreement, holding up his glass. “You’re absolutely right. That article has certainly had unexpected results. This might be a particularly rough group, but at least we’ll learn a lot.”
“No doubt.” Allie took a sip of her wine and put the glass back down. “Can you imagine having his job? And are we really responsible for keeping her from leaving?”
“I suspect Finn won’t let her get more than grabbing distance away.” Karl helped himself to salad.
Brad nodded. “He may not even be letting her go to the bars in town anymore. You can’t go anyplace without hearing about what a scene she made at The Brass Monkey the other night. I hear he had to physically restrain her from taking her clothes off, and people were taking bets on if she was going to give Sam Johnson a blow job right in the middle of the dance floor.”
Allie looked at him in alarm. “What’ll that do to our business? That’s terrible publicity!”
Karl patted her hand. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. She’ll only be here a couple more weeks, according to Finn, and I don’t think it’ll hurt our reputation. We’re not exactly running a band camp, anyway, and a little oral sex is tamer than what’s usually going on here. Most people will just be glad we don’t usually let our guests run amok in the bars.”
“I don’t really see the appeal of women like her. She’s so into herself,” Allie said darkly, finishing her salad and pulling the bowls of pasta toward her.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Brad said, surprisingly. “I think she’s really insecure, underneath that rebel Goth-chick veneer. Finn was probably right about her freaking out about turning thirty. That’s got to be rough on someone like her.”
Allie scowled a little but didn’t point out that she had recently turned thirty herself. Instead, she dished herself out a generous helping of the ravioli then gave each of the men a similar helping. Brad stared at his plate a little dubiously.
“You can have chicken Alfredo after you’ve tried the ravioli,” Allie told him sternly. She glanced at Karl, but he was eating salad as if the dinner debate had nothing to do with him at all.
Remembering Chuck’s request, Allie repeated the story about Dave’s cousin who was hoping to come and stay with them. “Although he’ll probably take one look at what’s going on and run the other way.”
Karl chuckled. “I’ve met him, if it’s Decker he was referring to. I heard the story about his slave. They say it was a very tragic thing, and Decker took it really hard. I believe he’s been on a leave of absence from work. From what I hear, he felt he couldn’t concentrate properly and didn’t want to endanger people.”
“Endanger people? What does he do?” Allie asked, forgetting her annoyance with Daphne.
“Airline pilot.” Karl took a bite of ravioli. He chewed it slowly, as if savoring the flavor, then tilted his head to one side, considering the result. “Not bad,” he told Allie, whose breathing had stopped momentarily. She looked at Brad in triumph, but he still appeared skeptical of her culinary inventiveness. She continued to glare at him until he gave in and took a bite.
His face went through a few different expressions before he finally nodded. “It’s not horrible.”
Allie began formulating an indignant response, but Karl smiled and laid a hand
on her arm. “Not everyone is going to appreciate your creativity in the kitchen. And Brad wasn’t used to anything unconventional before moving out here with you. Now there’s almost nothing left in his life that is conventional. You’ve got to give him credit for trying things.”
Allie thought about it, trying not to wonder if the laughter coming from the dining room was in response to the food. She felt a pang of anxiety, imagining merciless critiques of her cooking posted on the internet.
But when she went to collect their dishes she noted that the ravioli was completely gone. Of course, so was the chicken Alfredo, all of the rolls, and most of the salad. Two of the band members, whom Allie thought of as the “nice ones,” were looking sadly at the table, as if they might never get to see food again. The third was leaning back, tilting a bottle of wine to his lips to get the last drop, and laughing uproariously. He wore a black T-shirt with the sleeves cut off, and flames were tattooed up both of his arms.
“Hey, Blaze, give me some. Don’t hog it all!” Daphne made a lunge for the bottle, bumping her plate. Everybody jumped as a glass flew across the table, spraying water everywhere. Allie took one look and turned back for a towel to clean up the mess, shaking her head.
Once order was restored, the two nice boys, whose names Allie could never remember, helped her clear the dishes. They seemed to be eager to get away from the table, or maybe it was just to go into the kitchen to see if there was any more food. Their faces lit up when Allie handed them a heaping plate of brownies.
“Take those out the back if you want. But hold on a second first.” She grabbed two off the plate for Brad and Karl before they disappeared, and then a third for herself. The boys took the brownies with a whoop of delight and headed for the door.
There were raised voices coming from the dining room, and Allie squared her shoulders as she returned to see what new trouble Daphne was causing. Brad and Karl were right behind her. Okay, we can handle this.
The Masters of Falcon's Fantasies [BDSM Menage Fantasies 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 2
