by Dakota Trace
eXcessica publishing
Choosing Rena © August 2012 by Dakota Trace
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.
This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be access by minors.
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Cover design © 2012 Dakota Trace
First Edition August 2012
Smashwords Edition
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Dedication
I’d like to thank not only my beta readers, Gloria and Sheri for taking time out of their busy schedules to read and correct my numerous errors but I’d also like to thank A.J. for spending several hours with me on a Sunday night to go over my final manuscript with a fine tooth comb. Without these special friends, this book would’ve never been completed. I can’t thank you enough for putting up with my dyslexic butt. Rena, Jackson and I thank you!
Prologue
Rena MacAllister watched as the snow continued to softly fall. Curled up in the picture window of the apartment she shared with her sister, she stared out over Lake Michigan. In the glass she could see her own reflection, and she’d seen better days. Her long braids were in messy array, she had huge bags under her dark eyes, and even her normally mocha hued skin seemed lackluster. She hadn’t been the same since she’d come back from Alabama. While down there she’d come to a decision. She couldn’t stay.
Staring out at lights reflecting off Navy Pier, she sighed. Wondering what tomorrow would bring, she wished she’d dared to join her co-workers and friends just north of the city. Across town everyone was attending the collaring ceremony of Jude Larson and Micah Beaumont. If anyone deserved to be happy it was Olivia Metjka. The owner and top Domme of Olivia’s had been through hell and back to claim her men and Rena wished them no ill will, but found she couldn’t handle being in the same room with Jackson Levough.
As not only Jude’s best friend but his partner at their security firm, there was no way the playboy Cajun wouldn’t be there to witness his friend commit his life, love and submission. Which is why I’m not there. She idly twined several of the small braids next to her ear between her fingers as she contemplated her next move. After following her sister to Chicago from New York, she wasn’t prepared to move again but didn’t see much of choice.
A knock on the door drew her out of her morbid thoughts. “Sis?” The sound of her sister’s voice wasn’t a surprise.
“Hey, girl. I’m surprised Eddie let you out of his sight.” She barely glanced over her shoulder.
Waddling up towards her, Keisha crowded close. “You mean the big teddy bear who claims to be my husband? He fell asleep watching the game.” Moving her legs, Rena made room for her to sit. At seven months pregnant, it took several moments for her to settle in. Once she did, Rena shared her blanket. A pair of long sighs filled the space.
“So you want to tell me about it, Sissy?”
“Not particularly.” Rena gazed out the window. “I was foolish and I don’t think I can do this any longer.”
Keisha cocked her head. “Do what? Sit here with me and watch the stars? Or regret the fact you didn’t have the courage to take what you want?” Her voice softened. “You should’ve gone, Rena. Don’t let him drive you away – they’re your friends too.”
Rena pressed her cheek against the cool glass, uncertain how to address her sister’s concerns or if she even should. While Keisha had always been supportive of her big sister’s lifestyle, she’d never quite understood Rena’s need to submit, to serve. “It doesn’t matter, Keisha.”
“What do you mean it doesn’t matter? You’ve made very few friends since you’ve come to Chicago and you were just coming out of your shell after what that asshole…” Her sister’s sass had a chuckle escaping Rena, but she didn’t want to go over for the millionth time what had happened between her and Louis Andre Vayarti III. Or try to place the blame on anyone else but me. I was too outspoken for him in public and too needy in the bedroom. Oh and let us not forget I wouldn’t share…
“Enough…” Rena held up a hand. “It doesn’t matter, because I’ve already handed in my resignation.”
“You what?” Keisha swung her legs around to stand and Rena winced. This was it – her sister was going to come unglued.
“Calm down, Keisha. This is my decision and probably one of my better ones.” Rena picked at the nonexistent lint on the cushion beneath her. “I should’ve quit the first time that damned Cajun playboy got out of line.”
Crossing her arms over her swollen belly, her sister glared at her. “You’ve never been one to back down from a challenge. What the hell happened?”
Sighing, Rena slowly unfolded her body from the window seat. “What happened? I finally faced the reality of working for Larson Securities and decided it wasn’t worth the price I’d pay.” Folding the blanket up, she walked out of the room, ignoring her sister’s protests. Her resignation was non-negotiable.
* * * *
Jude Larson yawned as he shook the mouse on his desk, waking up his computer. Last night had been phenomenal. Their mistress had worked both him and Micah over thoroughly – pleasuring, hell even torturing them until they had screamed for mercy, all the while assuring them of her love for them. If he lived to be a hundred, he’d never forget a single moment of the collaring ceremony he had shared with Micah and Olivia. In fact, if it hadn’t been for paperwork which had been neglected since his return from New Orleans, Jude would’ve stayed curled up in their bed. So instead of snuggling close to his lovers, he was sitting in his office across town, trying to wake up with a strong double latte, cursing his partner for leaving him so much paperwork – not that it could be helped. Jackson was still recovering from a nasty bout of influenza.
Logging on to his computer, he methodically began organizing it; deleting the ads for discount drugs, filing away the requests for new bids on security services in their corresponding folders, while automated bills went into yet another. Then he ran across it. His hand paused on the mouse, dread filling him. Even without opening it he knew an email from Rena MacAllister with the words “TERMINATION REQUESTED” in the subject line was not good news. Jackson was going to go through the roof. And just when I hoped my life would settle down.
Chapter One
Two months later
“Rena!”
Ignoring the commanding call behind her, Rena slipped in between two vendor stands setup in the center of the Atrium Mall. Located in the heart of the Loop, she’d been lucky to find this job so quickly after she’d left her last job with no job reference. It wasn’t like Jude wouldn’t have given her a stellar review – no, she knew he would - it was the idea of
his partner knowing where she worked which scared her. She wouldn’t put it past Jackson to do exactly what he was doing right now; chasing her across the mall, making a huge scene, and all because he couldn’t accept the fact she just wasn’t meant to be his submissive despite the red hot chemistry they shared. Whether she truly believed her own B.S. or not was beside the point, she needed this job to pay for her new unlisted apartment.
Too busy looking over her shoulder, she grunted when she suddenly slammed into the tall muscular body she’d been trying to avoid. Jackson must've ducked through the narrow aisles between the vendors to cut her off in front of the phone kiosk. A muffled gasp escaped her as he pulled her up tight against his body, before spinning her around.
“Gotcha.” His blue eyes narrowed.
“I don’t think so, White Boy. Let me go. I’m trying to work here.” She was going to kill Keisha if her sister spilled the beans about where she worked. At least she knew her sister wouldn’t be able to tell anyone where she lived. She’d kept it a secret even from her family. She needed breathing room – from everything, everyone, loving family included. She had to get her head on straight before she did something stupid, like offering this particular man not only her body but her heart.
He sighed, holding her more firmly. She fought to ignore the familiar sparks of attraction flaring up between them. She couldn’t give into him, even if her body longed for it. There were simply too many unresolved issues between them. Ones which were caused by her past, but he’d have to torture them out of her before she’d admit how vulnerable he made her feel.
“Do you know what I’ve gone through to find you, Rena?” His voice was muffled against the crown of her head.
She gritted her teeth. “I can only imagine. I was very careful not to leave a paper trail. If Keisha hadn’t spilled the beans, you still wouldn’t know where I went.”
His finger lifted her chin. Gazing up into his face, she noticed for the first time the bags under his eyes, the haggard look on his face, even the appearance of a five o’clock shadow. For one as fair as he was, he had to have gone several days without shaving for his facial hair to even show. In short, he looked like hell warmed over. More than anything she wanted to take him home, tuck him into bed, and make him some of her momma’s homemade chicken soup. It was obvious he hadn’t quite recovered from the RSV, which had laid him low nearly a month ago. But instead of acting on her urge to take care of him, she lashed out - anything to drive him away from her.
“What happened to you? Partying too hard or has your latest submissive been keeping you up all night trying to satisfy her?”
A low growl escaped Jackson. “That was completely uncalled for and beneath you, Rena. If I look rundown, it’s because I’ve been tracking your sexy black ass all over Chicago, instead of getting my full eight hours of sleep at night.” Releasing her from his embrace, he wrapped a firm hand around her upper arm. “But I have the solution. I’m gonna chain your submissive little body to my bed and maybe then I’ll get more than four hours of sleep a night.”
Her traitorous body leapt at the idea of him binding her. It had been so long since she’d felt the familiar feel of leather sliding against not only her wrists and ankles, but her back, ass and thighs. She loved nothing more than a good Dom who knew how to wield a flogger or better yet a paddle.
He continued to chew her ass, as he led her back the way they’d come. “Do you know how worried I was – no, how pissed off I was when Jude told me you e-mailed your resignation? You couldn’t even have the common courtesy to come into the office and quit like a normal person? Or take into consideration no one, not even your pregnant sister knew where to find you?”
Digging her heels in, she pulled back against his hold nearly breaking free. “Wait a damned minute. I don’t know who the hell died and made you boss, but I’m a grown woman – one who’s nearly fifteen years older than you, Mr. Levough. I don’t need your permission to quit my job, nor do I need my sister’s approval to find a place of my own.” Around them, the people stopped and stared. Inwardly, she groaned at the spectacle she was making of herself, but was too pissed to care. “And for your information, I moved because my room is now the nursery. A two bedroom walk-up is fine for three adults with two of them married, but not so fine for three adults and an infant.”
The muscle in his jaw clenched, but she paid little attention to it. “Now get your mother fuckin’ hands off me.” She wrenched the thumb on his hand in the opposite direction of his palm, nearly bending it completely back, while stomping down on the arch of his foot with her high-top tennies. He gave a muffled grunt when she followed through with an elbow to his midsection. Each move was second nature, so within mere seconds she was free. Not just because she’d hurt him, but also because several uniform-suited mall security guards appeared out of nowhere to help her. As an undercover security consultant, it was her job to pick up shoplifters and basically, under normal circumstances, be invisible. She was dressed in street attire and carrying a shopping bag for Christ’s sake. Jackson had no idea he’d just manhandled her while on duty. Not that I’m sure it would’ve stopped him. Just look at all the times he manhandled me on the job – even though we both know I wanted it, which is why I quit. I couldn’t work with him anymore.
The sound of a confused scuffle brought her head up. Before she could explain the situation to her fellow co-workers, they had Jackson handcuffed with his hands behind his back. She winced as she heard the click of the cuffs tightening. He looked ready to explode.
“Son of a…” She rubbed the bridge her nose. This was not good. If Jackson didn’t kill her for this, he’d definitely spank her for it. Perhaps she could hide out in Olivia’s spare room - the older Domme would understand, since she knew how difficult the idiot could be…but hell with Micah and Jude both staying with their mistress, the woman had a full house.
“Rena?” One of the older security guards – was it Henry or Hank – she couldn’t remember off the top of her head, touched her arm. “Are you okay? We can call the police.”
“Don’t do it.” Jackson’s voice was sharp. She was half-tempted to let the law contain him until she made a quick getaway, but honestly he’d done nothing to warrant spending the night in jail.
“Fuck.”
Jackson’s nostrils flared in anger. “Believe me, MacAllister, fucking you is the last thing on my mind right now. You better run, and run hard because once I get free, your ass is mine. I’m going to blister it.”
Hank, Henry or whatever you wanted to call him, pulled back hard on the cuffs, jerking Jackson back away from her. “Threatening an undercover officer is not a good thing, Sir. I think you and I need to have a chat.” He gave her a pointed look - giving her the option to make a clean getaway.
Being no fool – she took it. “Tell the boss I’m 10-10 for the day.”
Moving quickly, she blended back into the crowd, feeling the weight of his eyes on her the entire time. Jackson Levough wouldn’t let this rest. Her new associates had just decidedly made this situation worse. Jackson would demand retribution and she was afraid of exactly what he would require of her.
* * * *
With hands trembling, Rena guided her key into the lock of her front door. Even after a good half hour of traveling the Green Line to her home in Oak Park, she was still shook up from her run in with Jackson Levough. Honestly it was her own faulty reasoning which had her in this mess. After a month of zero contact, her assumption of him giving up the search was the start of her downfall. Not even during her conversations about finding another suitable club with Olivia, had the older Domme said anything about Jackson. She’d foolishly believed the man had moved on and let her guard down.
“You can be a damned idiot at times, MacAllister.” With a quick jiggle and twist of the key, the lock unlatched. Entering her dimly lit apartment, she closed and locked the door behind her – an old habit which she couldn’t seem to break. “Not only do you get the man arrested but you ran f
rom him. You know how he’s going to react.” The memories of what had happened during their trip to Ireland last year should’ve faded but hadn’t. Out of her depth with her emotions when it came to her younger boss, she’d pushed hard during the trip before freaking out when he’d pushed back. She’d tried to run then, but unlike this time, he’d caught her, only to bend her over his lap and deliver a paddling she’d never forget.
The remembered sting of a suede-covered paddle against her ass still had the ability to send tingles through her whole body. She’d almost come from the feel of it alone. She’d been a goner when he’d begun to speak – his thick Louisiana accent had sent her over the edge with ease. Tears of relief had streaked down her cheeks as she’d cried for the first time in almost two years since Louis had abandoned her for a much younger and prettier sub. Her replacement had been a petite artist from California who he’d met at his mother’s gallery – young and impressionable enough for her master to mold into the perfect submissive, in and out of the bedroom.
When her punishment was over, Jackson had held her in his arms until she’d calmed. He hadn’t pressed hard but seemed to understand she was raw. Instead he’d kept it light hearted as he’d teased her about her light touch, and how he’d never had a submissive come so fast from a paddling – how it made her special. She’d drifted off to sleep in his arms, only to awake a short while later at the sound of the handle of their hotel suite being turned. She’d reacted without thinking, reaching for the heavy vase sitting on the stand next to the beduch where they’d fallen asleep. Her instincts had her pitching the vase at the familiar outline of a gun in the man’s hand. When the vase struck the man’s hand, the pistol harmlessly discharged just as Jackson dumped her on the floor. Later the Irish Police Inspector, who arrested the man, had told them if it hadn’t been for her quick thinking, they’d have both been dead - considering the bullets the idiot had used were hollow-point tipped.
