by BJ Wane
Nan scowled, irritated at the reminder, but their long friendship kept her from taking it personally. Biting into the juicy, breaded chicken, she glanced around at the lunch crowd, hoping he wouldn’t delve much deeper with his questions while they were here. Nobody could hear them in the corner, with the music playing and noisy conversations echoing, but that didn’t mean she wanted to tell him about Gerard’s evil side with others so close, or even today.
Chapter 8
Dan didn’t care for the way Nan’s face paled with his questions, or for the slight tremor in her fingers, and thought it best to table further inquiries until after they left the diner. Whatever memory had distracted her was enough to cause her distress, and that bothered him on a level he’d never experienced before. He caught signs of the woman he remembered whenever she teased him or refused to kowtow to him as she might at the club. She’d always given back as good as she gave, and he liked that about her. Which is why it hurt to see her cowed over a bad memory, and why his gut tightened in anger on her behalf.
Still, as he signaled for the check, he needed to know more before they got together at The Barn, with luck, this weekend. “Lunch is on me,” he insisted when she reached inside her purse. “I asked you out.”
In a flash, that spark of independence returned with her frown and tight jaw, amusing him. “That’s not the way we’ve ever done it, and you know it.”
Pushing back, he stood and took the check from Barbara with a thank you before grasping Nan’s elbow as she slid out of the booth. “That was then and this is now. Don’t argue with me.”
She rounded on him as soon as they stepped outside. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, when you agreed to let me help you get past the mental block that fucking asswipe is responsible for, things changed, at least temporarily, between us.”
“I didn’t think you meant to take it that far. Preferring to pay my own way hasn’t changed because of what happened. The only thing that has suffered has been my ability to…” She floundered and looked away from him as they strolled down the sidewalk.
It was the first time Dan could ever recall seeing her at a loss as to how to express herself, and another grip clenched his abdominals. “Let’s discuss your inability to submit fully, to immerse yourself in the kinky activities you’ve always embraced and enjoyed. Answer one more question for me,” he commanded in a tone he usually reserved for the club. She flicked him a wary glance out of those gold eyes as they reached the tea shop but didn’t say anything. “Why didn’t you undress for Masters Greg and Devin last weekend?”
Panic flared in her eyes, darkening them to the color of an old penny. Nan started to turn away, reaching for the door, but he turned her around with a firm grip of her chin, holding her face up to his. “No. Don’t turn from me, don’t hide and don’t keep it inside. If you do, I’ll walk away, and you can cope on your own.” He didn’t mean it; he doubted if anything could motivate him to let her work her way through this without him now.
A myriad of emotions crossed her face; alarm followed by testiness and then resignation before the tight set to her mouth softened and her lips curved in a way that caused his heart to roll over. “You always did know what buttons to push, Master Dan, you rat bastard.”
No matter how much he wanted to, Dan refused to smile at the taunt as he released her chin and settled his hat on his head. “And don’t forget it. Well?”
She turned serious, sucked in a deep breath and blurted the last thing he expected her to say. “I have scars, two, and I wasn’t… hey! Shit, what’s wrong?”
Dan shook his head, noticing how he’d gripped Nan’s upper arms, not tight enough to hurt, but fast enough to startle her. Biting hot fury whipped through him like an out-of-control wildfire, burning like acid and leaving him seeing red. The fucker beat her bad enough to break skin, draw blood, leave permanent damage? He couldn’t concede it, couldn’t fathom how anything so horrendous had befallen her and he hadn’t known about it, hadn’t been there to stop it, or help afterwards. Dropping his hands, he stumbled back, afraid his touch would trigger a God-awful memory, and he wouldn’t be able to handle that.
“You can tell me the rest later,” he rasped. There was no way he could take hearing anything else right now, not and stay sane. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the remote to the stimulator. “If you don’t have plans this afternoon, come out to my place. You can give Belle her first lesson on a lead. Here.” He flicked the toy on high and handed her the remote, watching as the jolt of pleasure shocked her into gasping a deep breath. “It’s yours, a gift. See you in a little while.”
He spun on his heel, needing an outlet for the aggressive wrath consuming him, threatening his control to the breaking point.
The shocked fury darkening Dan’s face followed Nan as she dashed upstairs. She hadn’t been ready to tell him about her scars or prepared for his volatile reaction. The memory of how she’d gotten them had cooled her body, but the spasming damp heat from the rapid, strong pulses beating against her clit wiped it away just as fast. But nothing could erase his stunned rage on her behalf as he’d grasped the extent of her ordeal.
She didn’t want to tell him anything else, but also didn’t want to disappoint him again, because she suspected now he would demand to know everything. The guilt over shutting everyone out for so long, including Dan, was enough to live with, and to make up for. He hadn’t pushed her into agreeing to his proposal, just dangled an irresistible reward in front of her, so she would finish the sordid, horrific tale when he insisted.
By the time Nan reached her apartment and closed the door behind her, she’d shoved aside the image of Dan’s face to concentrate on the arousal building to a feverish pitch from the butterfly. Leaning against the door, she slid a hand inside her panties, her knuckles brushing the wet crotch as she fretted over losing the lovely sensations before they could expand into a climax. She hadn’t been this close to an orgasm is so freaking long, it was a wonder she didn’t explode as soon as he had attached the vibrator.
She gave herself a pleasurable moment to slide under the butterfly and trace over her puffy, damp labia before working her way inside her slick sheath. Swollen, damp inner muscles clamped around her finger as her throbbing clit set off the first small contractions. Shuddering on a deep moan, she stroked in time to the pulses, relishing the gush of cream as the spasms increased in intensity and speed. Slamming her eyes shut, she gyrated and rode her finger, whimpering as an orgasm burst. Sparks of pleasure traveled up from her gripping pussy, tightening her nipples, drawing beads of perspiration and enveloping her mind in a nice, fuzzy euphoria.
Taking her time, she stroked her pussy through the lessening contractions as she worked to calm her breathing and pounding heart. Nan didn’t realize she still clutched the remote in her other hand until the fog cleared and the soft pulses against her clit still continued. Turning it off, she breathed a sigh of relief as the lingering, throbbing ache of her abused nub slowly ebbed. Compared to the orgasms she’d achieved under a hard-edged Dom’s painful commands, this one was just a small pop, but hey, she mused, pushing away from the door, she would take what she could get. And right now, she felt pretty damn good.
After removing the toy and washing up, Nan changed into denim shorts and a blue tee sporting a large teacup, the tea bag string hanging over the side reading ‘tea shirt’. Returning downstairs, she slid behind the wheel, her body relaxed, her optimism restored as she drove out to Dan’s place hoping she’d given him enough time to get himself under control.
As the neat, dark red, white trimmed buildings of the Shylock ranch came into view, Nan experienced a quick spurt of excitement. Parking in front of Dan’s two-story log and cedar siding home, she slid out of her car unsure if it was the anticipation of spending time with Belle or more time with Master Dan she was looking forward to most. Her orgasm left her relaxed enough to shove aside worries over what his reaction might be to hearing more about her
ordeal, and as she strolled toward the horse stable, she vowed to continue thinking along positive lines.
The scent of fresh hay and a soft whinny greeted her as she entered the dim, cooler interior of the smallest outbuilding and she spotted Pete and another man outside Belle’s stall. The young filly caught sight of Nan, her ears perking up as Pete adjusted a halter around her head.
“I think she’s grown in the short time since I saw her last,” she said as she joined them. Smiling, she held out her hand to the dark-haired Hispanic next to Pete. “Hi. I’m Nan.”
“I’m Morales. Nice to meet you,” he returned with an engaging smile, squeezing her hand. “The boss said you would be out. He hasn’t returned from his ride yet, but you can take Belle out to the corral, if you want.”
“I’d love that. Pete, how are you?”
“Ma’am. I’m good. It’s nice to see you again, and it looks like our girl here is happy to see you again, too.” He stroked the filly’s neck and she put her head over the stall gate, giving Nan a nudge.
With a laugh, she pulled a sugar cube from her pocket. “May I?” she asked the guys, figuring they would know the foal’s diet.
Pete shrugged. “Sure, she likes her treats.”
As Nan held her palm out flat for the horse to take the sweet cube, Pete clipped a lead to the ring dangling from the halter around her nose. Handing her the end, he stepped back and opened the gate. “Go on out that side door, which leads right into the corral. We’ll be in here if you need help.”
“Thanks guys.” Beaming, she led her baby out into the late afternoon sunshine, Morales’ voice reaching her before the door shut.
“Think she’s the reason for the boss taking off the way he did when he returned? Damn, I’ve never seen him so pissed.”
“Me either, but…”
The door shut, blocking the rest of Pete’s reply, but Nan heard enough to know Dan hadn’t calmed down by the time he’d returned to the ranch. With luck, his ride would give him the time and space he needed to work through the shock of her revelation. She had to remember she’d had months to come to terms with those scars, and how she got them, and she still couldn’t cope well with the memories. As she moved to the center of the corral, let the long lead out and tugged Belle into walking a wide circle around her, she decided it would be in the best interest of her female friendships to reveal that ugly remnant of the abuse as soon as possible. They might not forgive her if one of them heard it from someone else.
Not that she didn’t trust Dan, but if she agreed to hook up with him Friday night at the club, there was a much better chance now of her stripping naked than before she’d agreed to his offer of help. She sifted her fingers through her hair, pushing it back away from her face and tightening her grip on the lead as Belle tossed her head, eager to pull away when she spotted her mama out in the pasture. Dan mentioned she’d finished weaning just two weeks ago, so it wasn’t surprising she still wanted the comfort of her mother. Nan pulled with steady, gentle insistence until Belle settled down and then clicked to encourage her back into a slow walk.
“I know, sweetie, it’s hard being away from mommy, isn’t it?” Sixteen years had passed since Nan lost both her parents, and she still missed them. The only thing she could be grateful for now was they’d been spared knowing about the trauma she’d endured. Shaking her head, she tilted her face up to the sun, letting the heat wash away the cold chill her thought provoked. She didn’t want anything to mar the enjoyment of getting acquainted with Belle.
Dan reined in Tank as he spotted Nan in the corral with Belle. Slowing the steed to a trot and then a walk before pulling him to stop, he and Tank’s chests heaved with their labored breathing from the vigorous ride and effort it had taken to reunite a stray calf with its mother. He hadn’t planned on working when he’d lit out across the pasture, but when they’d come across the problem, the physical exertion turned out to be a welcome diversion from his thoughts.
His first inclination upon returning to the ranch had been to release his rage on his punching bag again but didn’t think his bruised knuckles could handle it. A shiver racked his body as he eyed her across the field, wondering about the torments she’d suffered. Leaning his forearm on the pommel, he let Tank graze as he enjoyed the view of Nan’s long bare legs, as sleek and toned as the filly’s. She’d succeeded in introducing Belle to the lead already, the young mare now trotting around her in a graceful circle even though she kept turning her head to seek out her mama.
Dan straightened on a deep inhale as Tank shifted under him. Hell, he swore, given his volatile reaction to her nightmares the other night and to learning about her scars today, maybe he wasn’t the right man, the right Dom to help her through this. Maybe someone who didn’t have a history with her, or a valued friendship would be better suited to aid in her recovery. Someone with more objectivity, like… fuck it. It didn’t matter which name he picked; he didn’t like the thought of turning her over to anyone else. Damn it, she was his, for now at least, and he would see this through if it killed him.
With a booted nudge, he prodded Tank toward the stable, and the woman who had succeeded in twisting him up in knots without realizing it. “She’s looking good,” he complimented her as he reached the rail and dismounted. “It’ll be another eighteen months before we can start on saddle training and riding, but at the rate she’s growing, she’ll be a hand taller than her mama and a good hundred pounds heavier.”
Nan smiled as she slowed Belle and met her halfway in the corral until the filly butted her head against Nan’s chest. Even wearing a bra, the move jiggled the full mounds and Dan had no trouble recalling the softness of her lush figure. She laughed and opened her hand with a sugar cube, which promptly disappeared into Belle’s mouth. Giving the saddle cinch a loosening pull, he tossed over his shoulder, “You’ll spoil her if you keep that up.”
“Good. She deserves to be spoiled. How was your ride?”
Necessary. He slid the saddle off Tank and tossed it over the rail before looking back and nailing her with a direct gaze. “Long and rigorous enough for me to settle myself down.”
She blew out a breath but didn’t glance away as she replied in her forthright manner, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. You are the one who insisted on knowing.”
That tart reminder almost teased a smile out of him. Almost. Before Dan could think straight again, he needed to see for himself the physical damage she was living with. “You’re right. Let’s turn these two loose and put our gear up.”
Nan flicked him a wary look as he hefted the saddle over his shoulder, grasped her elbow and led her into the tack room in the back of the stable. Since the stalls were cleaned and the stable was empty, he guessed Bertie had already given Pete and Morales another chore, which worked well for him.
Hanging up the lead, she turned to face him, one slim brow winging up with her wry look as he walked over to shut the door. “Why do we need the door closed and locked?”
Dan wished he knew if the pink tinge staining her cheeks came from too much sun or was a positive sign of anticipation. Tossing his hat on top of the saddle he’d placed over a wooden horse, he stalked toward her only intending to look at her back. “I need to see, here, where we’re alone and you don’t have to fret over anyone else looking.” At her shaky nod, he took her shoulders and turned her around. “Brace your hands against the wall,” he instructed, sliding his hands under her tee shirt and pushing it up.
“Dan…” She hissed as he slapped her thigh, one light swat as he watched closely for any adverse reaction.
When all she did was take a deep breath and nod, he reminded her, “Master Dan, here, or anywhere else when my hands are on you, or about to be.”
Nan dropped her head between her braced arms, the pose submissive, her tone not so much. “Yeah, okay, but I should get a break until I can adjust to the new status of our relationship.”
“Mmmm, I’ll give that some consideration.” The tips of two thin
scars appeared at her lower back and hip as he rolled the top up, one inch at a time, until it bunched around her shoulders. Damned if his finger didn’t shake as he traced over the first one that ran almost straight down from her shoulder blades. The second was more jagged, crossing the first about mid-back and snaking around to her hip. The rage returned, burning his gut, but this time he pushed it back with ruthless determination.
“I could kill him for this,” he rasped in a low voice as he continued to brush over the whitened lines. “Slowly, painfully. I know ways. You learn a lot of stuff in the military most people can’t imagine. Things you believe you’ll never have need of.”
“Sir.” Nan swiveled her head to look back at him. “I wouldn’t be happy with you if you did that.”
“Don’t you dare preach to me that two wrongs don’t make a right,” he growled.
“Oh,” she drawled, “I wouldn’t dream of it, Master Dan. But I would be very unhappy if my favorite Dom landed in jail instead of Gerard.”
“That’s his name? Gerard?”
She turned back toward the wall with a shake of her head. “I’m not revealing anything else right now.”
The bite in her tone signaled she was serious, and he didn’t push it. He’d rather ease the sudden tension between them. Trailing his fingers up to her bra, he released the catch with a quick, deft twist, the strap separating and falling away.
“You didn’t need to do that to see the scars,” she whispered, lowering her head between her arms again in a pose he liked.
“No, but necessary to do this.” Leaning closer, Dan slid his hands around her sides and cupped her dangling breasts, brushing his thumbs back and forth over her nipples as he placed his mouth on one scar.
“Oh, God,” she groaned in a voice that wobbled.
“No, just me, hon.” Kissing his way down the straight scar, he kneaded her plump flesh, increasing the pressure against her hardening tips. The white lines didn’t detract from the smooth, graceful look of her or from the way she curved right above her shorts. He knew the shape of her ass below that curve, the softness of her malleable buttocks, the way she used to push back or lift up in a silent plea for more. The longing to reacquaint himself with the rest of her body as he plucked at her nipples and licked over her scars couldn’t be denied but had to be delayed until he was sure he’d gotten his unstable emotions under control.
