by Jenna Jacob
“It’s not like that at all,” I lied… again. “I… It’s simply time for me to go before my sister files an Amber Alert,” I replied with a forced chuckle.
Joshua’s sour expression didn’t change. Obviously he didn’t find my poor attempt at humor funny in the least.
“So you say, but I still don’t buy it, my frightened little bird,” Joshua challenged, stepping closer. “At least let me drive you home.”
“Frightened? That’s crazy. I’m not the least bit afraid of you.” At least not physically. Emotionally, you scare the beejesus out of me. “Really, I’m fine. I would never ask such an inconvenience.”
“You didn’t ask… I did, and it’s not an inconvenience,” he whispered, inching closer still. “Let me drive you home, Mellie.”
“Ah, I already called a cab.”
His body tensed at my rejection. “I see. When do you go back to Phoenix? I’d like to see you again before you leave.” His words were clipped and matter-of-fact.
“I’m… I’m not sure. Ah, maybe a week or two. Give me a call tomorrow. Maybe we can arrange it before I go.”
Stepping back, I put some much-needed distance between us. It was either that or strip off my clothes, release the bulge beneath his straining zipper—dammit, why did I have to look at his cock—and wrap my body around him again. No. I couldn’t afford to do that. He’d crawl so deep inside me that I’d never want to leave. My only salvation was to bolt for the door. Get as far away from the intimidating artist as possible, and never go back.
“I will.” He smirked. Striding toward me, he leaned in close. His warm breath fluttered over my ear and I trembled. “You can run, Mellie, but you can’t hide.”
“Only children run away, Joshua. I’m not a child,” I scoffed.
“No, you’re definitely all woman. But you’re definitely running away from what you truly are, and we both know it.”
I opened my mouth to refute him, but snapped it shut. I’d lied enough to the man. “Good-night, Joshua. I’ll talk to you soon.”
Spinning on my heel, I all but ran to the door. Wobbling down the stairs trying not to fall, I raced outside, sucking the cool night air into my lungs. Peering up and down the street, goosebumps prickled my arms and anxiety pumped through my veins as I mentally willed the taxi to appear.
What the fuck?
Joshua had waved some Dominant magic wand and presto—every emotion I’d buried raged back to life in a fiery conflagration of confusion.
As a cab pulled around the corner, the sound of a slamming door behind me split the night. I jerked a glance over my shoulder to see Joshua striding toward me, the statue of the kneeling woman gripped in his hand. His unreadable expression disturbed me.
“You forgot something,” he announced evenly as he thrust the delicate sculpture toward me.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t thinking…I…”
“No, you were too busy running for your life.” He scowled.
“I… it’s… a… so generous of you,” I sputtered, taking the fragile piece from him. “Thank you so much for… everything.”
As I struggled to string a damn sentence together, a ghost of a smile tugged his lips.
“I’ll be in touch with you soon, little one.” Leaning in, he placed a chaste kiss on my cheek then stood back, watching until I was safely inside the cab.
I gave him a little wave as the taxi pulled away, and it took every ounce of strength not to turn and look back. Four blocks later my heart stopped pounding and my breath evened out.
Dammit, how the hell did you get yourself into such a cluster fucking mess?
“Prince Sheik Abbas,” I murmured, staring down at the statue.
~ Six Days Earlier ~
Startled awake by my ringing cell phone, I sat straight up in bed. The first thought that blasted through my brain was the fear something dreadful had happened to my sister, Savannah. A rush of adrenaline shot through my system. My heart thundered in my ears. Blinking at the clock radio on my nightstand, the eerie green numbers illuminated three thirty-seven a.m. A whimper of terror seeped from my throat as I squirmed free of the twisted covers. Flipping on the bedside lamp, I squinted as I snatched up my cell phone.
“Hello,” I answered fearfully.
“Meelee? It’s Abbas calling. I have fantastic news.”
My shoulders slumped and panic slowly melted from my veins when I realized it wasn’t Nick or Dylan—my sister’s Masters—on the other end of the line. There was only one man on the planet that butchered my name so brutally…the same man who had zero concept of time zones outside his native country of Dubai.
“Your Majesty. Do you have any idea what time it is in the U.S.?” I moaned.
“I do not think you understand what I am saying to you,” he continued, ignoring my question. The lilt of his sensual velvet accent soothed my jagged nerves. “I have wonderful news to share, Meelee.”
Scrubbing a hand up my forehead, brushing the hair from my eyes, I blinked several times, attempting to adjust to the bright light that filled my room.
“Yes, I’m listening, Abbas.”
“Joshua Lars is back!”
Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, my heart skipped a beat as I sat up straight. Abbas had my undivided attention.
“Meelee, are you still there?”
“Yes, I’m here. Joshua Lars?” I repeated as a streak of anticipation rocked through me. “Where? When?”
“Sheecago. It will be his first exhibit in five years, Meelee. Is this not the best news I could give you? I want his art, Meelee. You will go for me and purchase them. Yes?”
“Of course,” I replied absently. “An open exhibit? When? Do you know the date?”
“I have all the information you need. That is why I called.” He all but purred in my ear.
“Why haven’t I heard anything about this?” A flash of irritation ignited within.
“It is private. Joshua is only giving this treat to his special customers. And I, of course, am his special customer.”
“Indeed you are, Abbas. How do I get an invitation?”
“I will see that it is arranged for you. Now listen carefully. You must buy it all for me, Melee.”
I choked back a snort. “Surely you realize they won’t let me purchase everything, your Majesty. I don’t know yet how many pieces he’ll have up for sale.”
“There are many pieces, Meelee. I have sources that tell me this. Joshua has…. how do you say? Ah… hibernating since the death of his wife and daughter.” Abbas spoke softly, as if honoring the artist’s loss.
“Which gallery in Chicago? And when?” Yanking open the drawer of my nightstand, I shoved my over-worked vibrator aside and snatched out a pad of paper and a pen.
“Christian Joyce Gallery. Thursday... next Thursday, Meelee. At seven o’clock,” he informed.
Christian, you little son of a bitch! That prick hadn’t breathed a word of this to me. Oh, his frilly little princess ass was all mine!
“Thank you, Abbas. I actually know him. I’ll call him when the gallery opens and make sure I’m put on his guest list. Unbelievable,” I whispered trying to wrap my head around the unprecedented news. “I’ll start making arrangements right away. Is there a monetary ceiling you’d like me to stay under?”
“Oh, Meelee. Money is insignificant.” For Abbas it was. The man had more money than he could spend in ten lifetimes, and wouldn’t that just suck? “No limit. Abbas will pay any price.”
“I understand.”
“My heart thanks you, Meelee.”
“You’re welcome, Abbas. I’ll call you from the gallery with a total.”
“No need. I took the pleasure and wired money to your account so you can purchase many treasures for me, Meelee. You will keep the rest. It is to show you many thanks.”
I almost choked in astonishment. “Thank you, Abbas. That is overly generous of you.”
“That will make me pleased. Now, one last ques
tion. When will you come to me and be one of my wives?”
I snorted. “We would fight day and night, Abbas. I don’t like being told what to do. Besides, I’m lousy when it comes to sharing my man with others.”
“But I would make you feel like my one and only, Meelee. You have special place in my heart. It would be an honor to own you.” His voice teemed with seduction.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Being part of a harem held as much appeal as a sardine milkshake. “Good night, Abbas. I’m going back to bed.”
“Dream of me, Meelee.”
“You know I will.” I chuckled and hung up.
Wow! Joshua Lars… out of seclusion. I shook my head. This was going to knock the art world flat on its ass.
Climbing out of bed, I padded to the bathroom before making my way to my office to boot up my computer. Four hours and two pots of coffee later, I called Christian. With a saccharine sweet chastising, I busted his gay little balls for not informing me of Joshua’s comeback. Christian was contrite in a whining-groveling sort of way. After vowing he’d never leave me in the lurch again, along with a promise to overnight an invitation, I accepted his apology and hung up.
Five minutes later I had my airline ticket booked; however, finding a room proved more of a challenge than I’d expected. Every metro Chicago hotel was booked for some stupid festival. Squandering another two hours perusing design articles online, I finally picked up the phone.
“Sanna?”
“Mellie? Oh, how bizarre. I was just thinking of you.”
I couldn’t help but smile. My little sister had blossomed from a wallflower into a vibrant woman since falling in love with two men… her Masters. A pang of envy pierced my heart. Never in a million did I suspect that Savannah would be attracted to the BDSM lifestyle, but her total transformation proved she’d found her bliss. She was no longer a quiet, shy bookworm. Dylan and Nick had helped her break free of her chrysalis and she’d blossomed into a stunning, submissive butterfly.
I was happy for her; happy that her path hadn’t ended in a fiery death, like mine.
“Uh-oh, what did I do now?” I teased.
“Nothing, dork. I just miss you. You’re not packing to go anywhere soon, are you? I’d really like you to come to Chicago for a visit.”
I sensed a hint of desperation in her voice. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m just… it’s nothing.”
“You’re what?” My over-protective sister DNA zipped to high alert. “Did Dylan and Nick do something to you… something they shouldn’t have?”
“Oh, good god, no!” she shrieked. “I’m just missing you. After you broke up with Enrique I thought you’d come for a visit so we could drown your heartache in a gallon of ice cream. But you never came… you just got more wrapped up with work.”
“I got swamped with clients. Besides, I was the one that called it off. There wasn’t any heartache it was mostly relief. He got way too serious. I told you that.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But you were with him a long time—a lot longer than any of the others.”
“Thanks,” I grumbled sarcastically. “You make me sound like a bed-hopping bimbo.”
“I didn’t mean it like that and you know it,” Savannah scolded before her tone turned gentle. “I’m sorry, I’m just hyper emotional these days for some weird reason.
“Don’t sweat it,” I reassured. “So tell me what’s really bothering you?”
“I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I have everything a girl could want. My life is beyond perfect. I just miss you and want to spend some quality time with my bestie.”
“Well.” I paused. “What are you doing this Tuesday at three fifty-five in the afternoon?”
“Nothing, why?”
“I could use a ride from the airport, oh, and a place to crash—if you think Dylan and Nick won’t mind.”
“Here? In Chicago?” She gasped.
“Yes,” I giggled. “There’s a private art showing Thursday night. I’m going for a client.”
Savannah let out a scream so loud I had to yank the phone away from my ear. Not just one scream, but a whole bunch of them. Suddenly, I heard the thundering voices of Dylan and Nick demanding to know what was wrong. It took my excited sister several long seconds to explain why she was coming unglued.
“Mellie?” Nick’s deep authoritative voice sent a shiver up my spine. He wasn’t my Dominant, but he wielded the type of power that scraped the submissive in me.
“Yes?” I replied in an unusually timid tone.
“Next time you decide to come for a visit, would you please warn me or Dylan first? Savannah’s screams scared ten years off our lives.”
I laughed. “I’m sorry, Nick.”
“It’s okay. I’m just messing with you,” he chuckled. “So, when are you coming?”
Relaying my flight info, I blocked out his assertive mien and shoved the silly submissive sentiments from my head.
“Excellent. We’ll be there to pick you up,” he assured before passing the phone back to Savannah.
Chatting about my visit, anticipation and excitement grew contagious. Soon we were laughing more than talking. I realized how much I missed my sister and the special bond we shared. It had been a long time since I’d seen Sanna…far too long.
“Oh my god, I almost forgot,” she gasped. “Leagh and Tony… you remember Leagh, right?” she asked, pausing long enough for me to issue an affirmative grunt. “They’re getting married on Saturday. You’ve got to come to the wedding with us. It’s going to be a huge lavish affair and the reception they’ve planned is over the top.”
I bit back a groan. Ugh. Weddings. Monogamy. Happy ever afters. Commitment. It all made my skin crawl. Why anyone would want to tie themselves down to another person for their entire life was beyond me.
“Sanna…”
“You’re going.” She ordered. “I’m not leaving you to sit here all day so don’t try to weasel your way out. Oh, and then after the reception Tony’s going to formally collar her at the club. I really, reallyyyy want you to come with us. Please. Say you’ll go?”
The BDSM club; Genesis. On some of my past visits I’d accompanied Savannah and her Masters to the club. Exposing myself to the power exchange stung and left me feeling a bit like a third wheel. While their friends were always warm and welcoming, I had to focus on making small talk to keep from getting drawn into the BDSM acts playing out around me. Genesis was the only lifestyle venue I’d set foot in after burying my submissive yearnings and walking away from my former club in Kansas City. For the most part I’d succeeded, but every time I stepped inside Genesis, my desires ignited with a vengeance. My conflicted emotions consumed me so deeply I felt as if I was fighting a forest fire—one teaspoon of water at a time.
A ripple of apprehension crawled up my spine. Did I honestly want to subject myself to that level of turmoil again?
“I don’t know Sanna. I’m not sure I’m up for all that gooey, sticky love crap. Besides, I don’t know how long I can stay.”
I’d actually planned to remain in Chicago for a couple of weeks. I hated lying to my sister; she deserved better from me. But I didn’t want to confess my aversion to the BDSM club, not when she derived so much pleasure from it. I certainly didn’t want to own up to my spineless decisions after the horrific break up from my former Master. Sharing the level of devastation after he’d removed my collar—in front of the entire dungeon—then whipped it around the neck of a brand new sub was totally out of the question. There was no way in hell I’d admit my cowardice to Sanna. She’d be crushed if she ever found out that I’d left her, the dungeon, the lifestyle, and my home out of shame. I wouldn’t do that to her.
“Oh, pleeeeease, Mel. Please. It’s going to be a blast. Don’t be a party pooper. Say you’ll go with us. Pleeeeease!”
“Christ Almighty. Stop begging or I’ll text your Masters and tell them to spank your ass.”
“Promise?” she giggled.
&
nbsp; “You’re incorrigible,” I laughed. “Okay. Okay. Don’t start screaming again but I’ll go to the wedding and I’ll go to the damn collaring ceremony.”
Ignoring my warning, Sanna let out another cry just as piercing as the first.
“Dammit, kitten. Stop doing that or we’ll get out the rice.” Dylan’s voice echoed out in warning, that time.
“I’m sorry, Master, but… I can’t help it.”
“We’ll be more than happy to help you, precious,” Nick threatened. “With a big red ball gag.”
#
Four days later, they met me at the airport, as promised. Savannah rushed to my arms with a smile so wide I thought her face would split. I held her tight as we both swiped at our tears of joy. Emotions flooded through me. There was nothing more comforting than the unconditional love of my sister. We’d relied on each other for years after surviving the tragic death of our parents. It had been a heart-breaking time in our lives, but we drew strength from one another and grew to be more than sisters—we became best friends.
Guilt swamped me in an ugly veil as I held her in my arms. If I had been a stronger person, I wouldn’t have left her and moved… err, rather, ran away to Phoenix. Tangled in my own turmoil, I’d convinced myself that she was an adult capable of living independently after she’d graduated high school and enrolled in college. When in reality, staying in Kansas City, dodging phone calls from worried friends while trying to remain invisible to various lifestylers on the streets wore me down and ate at my self-confidence. My former hometown held too many memoires—each one a slap in the face—reminding me that I’d been a fool to believe the lies of a wanna-be Dom and control freak.
