“Why not?”
“Uh, because it would cost a lot.”
He heard the unsaid duh and gave her a firm look. She flushed, looking embarrassed. “I’m not looking for charity.”
“Didn’t say you were. If you think it will be easy working with Renard, then you’re either dumb or delusional. It will be hell. But if anyone can do it, it’s you. You’re small enough to pull at his protective instincts but with enough backbone not to let him step all over you. It’s the perfect solution for me. And you.”
She chewed at her lip. “I don’t know.”
“Plus, it comes with accommodations,” he added, sweetening the pot. He couldn’t allow her to stay here. Wouldn’t.
Her eyebrows rose. “Really? Where?”
“My guest house.”
She snorted. “Right. Heard that one before.”
“Really? Know a lot of people with guest houses?”
“Not exactly. Just had a lot of offers of accommodation, and they always came with strings.”
“I believe I mentioned Renard. He’s not exactly a string. More like a chain around your neck, choking you to a slow death. Did I mention the other three pastry chefs he sent off in tears? One used to be a prison guard.”
“So let me get this straight. I work with Renard as a pastry chef and you’ll let me have the boys with me or find some babysitting help and you’ll give me a place to live?”
“That’s right.”
“And that’s it?”
“Oh, no, there’s more.”
“That’s what I thought.” A cynical look crossed her face.
“You’ll also have to agree to my protection while you live there.”
She frowned. “What?”
“You’ll be living under my roof, working for me, therefore you’ll be under my care. My protection. My rules.”
That wary look returned. “And what are your rules?”
“Cynicism in one so young is hard to see.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not that young. I had to grow up quickly. And I have to protect my boys.”
“I would never harm a child. Ever.” The words were low, without heat but filled with steel.
Her shoulders relaxed at his words.
“You really know how to hit at a man’s ego.”
“Your ego can take it.”
“Well, yes. But I’m not an ordinary man.”
“No. That’s something we can agree on.”
“Both you and your boys will be safe under my care. That I can promise you. I would protect you from any threat. Including from you.”
“What does that mean?” she snapped. “I’d never hurt my kids.”
He leaned over and took hold of her chin, turning her face from side to side. “No, I know that. Too bad you couldn’t say the same about yourself.”
She drew back. “What does that mean?”
“You take care of everyone else but you. Probably always have. I’m guessing your mother wasn’t much of a caretaker, so you took over from a young age and you’ve been doing it ever since. Caretaker. Breadwinner. Mother. Protector. Who takes care of you?”
“I take care of myself. What are the rules?”
“They’re not so different from the rules of Haven. You won’t put yourself in danger. If you need help then you will call me straight away, after the police. No lying. No risking your health. You’ll take care of yourself.”
“So that’s it? A job and a place to live and I just have to follow the rules of the town?”
“Pretty much.” He smiled. “Of course, break the rules and there will be consequences.”
Consequences.
She stewed over those words as she stared at him. How could he look so at home? He should appear completely out of place, dressed in his expensive clothes, not a hair out of place, sitting in her shithole kitchen. His confidence astounded her. Why is he here, offering to save me? This wasn’t something she’d expected. Not from him. He was throwing a drowning person a life raft. And he knew it.
She needed to be cautious though. She knew the perils of jumping in without taking note of all the pitfalls.
She licked her dry lips then got up and poured herself a glass of water. “Would you like one?”
“No. Thank you.”
So much for that diversion. It had given her a few seconds of reprieve, though. She sat again, well more like slumped, in her seat. Part of her was screaming that she should tell him no and run far and fast.
But the other part wanted to believe in him. To believe in what he said. That part of her said she could have what she wanted. A safe place for her boys. A job she really desired. To stay in Haven.
To get to know this man better.
And that last part really scared her.
“What are the consequences? I won’t be abused.”
He rubbed at his chest. “Another direct hit. Jesus, what did I ever do to make you think so badly of me? Did you see me torment a kitten? Kick a puppy? Maybe steal a child’s ice cream?”
“You know I didn’t,” she said impatiently. “But—”
“But what? Just because I’m a Dom I must be abusive?”
“Well, no.”
“You must have a pretty poor opinion of most of the men in Haven. I’m surprised you ever moved here. Or do you not realize that the sheriff and all three of his deputies are members of my club?”
She’d really insulted him, she realized. She sighed. “I’m sorry, Saxon.”
“Joel.”
“What?”
“When we’re like this then I’m Joel to you. In the club, I’m Saxon. Or Sir or Master. Although we’re not there yet.”
“We’ll never be there.”
“We’ll see.”
“Damn it. That’s what I’m talking about. I’m not one of your subs.”
“First of all, just how many subs do you think I have? Considering your poor opinion of me, I’m guessing you think I’ve got them locked away in my dungeon. Sometimes I throw them a few crumbs of bread, maybe a piece of fruit if they’ve been very good.”
There was disgust in his voice. And anger. She flinched.
“That’s not what I think—”
“Second of all, have you ever heard the phrase, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it? Or how about people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones? I’m no saint. I’m not without my own issues. I’ve got a past I’m not proud of. But I’m pretty sure you haven’t led the life of an angel, am I right?”
She nodded. Too shocked to speak.
There was a beat or two of silence. And she knew she had to be the one who broke it. She’d screwed things up.
“I’m sorry.”
He drummed his fingers on the table, looking irritated. “Why? You’re only saying what most people think.”
“They don’t.”
“What?”
“They don’t think that,” she whispered. “About you. People often wonder about you. Your past. But you have a lot of people who think you’re a good guy.”
He looked surprised. His fingers stilled.
“Well, Logan Ferguson isn’t your biggest fan. But then I think you enjoy needling him. He feels the same towards you.”
He frowned. “You think Ferguson likes pricking me?”
“Yep. On the days he doesn’t see you at the diner, he usually leaves with a sad look on his face.”
He snorted, but a smile danced at the corners of his lips.
“I’m sorry if I insulted you,” she told him. “It’s hard for me to trust. And I don’t know about any of that BDSM stuff.”
“People often mistake it for abuse. But everything is fully agreed upon. Ever heard the phrase safe, sane, and consensual? I have safety monitors watching all activity. Everyone has to fill out and sign a contract with their limits. They need to pass medical examinations. And before entering a scene with partners they haven’t engaged with before or in a while, there will be negotiations. Communication and honesty are
key. A Dom isn’t someone who is simply interested in dishing out pain. Some Doms are sadists, yes. But they don’t want to give pain to someone who doesn’t enjoy it. Unless it’s punishment, of course.”
Curiosity filled her. She didn’t think she’d ever heard him sound so passionate. “What do you enjoy about being a Dom?”
“I enjoy being in complete control. I like knowing that my submissive trusts me enough to let me take charge. I like to show a sub new experiences. To challenge them. I’ll push. But only as far as I think they can take. And I like knowing they trust me to know where that line is.”
“And what about the submissives? What do they get?”
He stood and moved over to her, turning her to face the sink. He stepped in close behind her. She attempted to step away, but he held her around the waist. “No, you asked the question. Don’t move away before you get the answer.”
“I’m not submissive.”
“But you’re a submissive. That can be something very different. Someone can be very powerful in business. Can make decisions all day that affect the lives of hundreds, then come home and surrender themselves in the bedroom to their partner. Give everything over to them, knowing and trusting their partner will give them precisely what they need.”
His voice wove a hypnotic spell over her, and she found herself leaning back into his warm, hard body. She could see the picture he was describing.
“Put your arms up around my neck,” he commanded.
She moved as though in a dream, unable to resist the order.
“A submissive can give up all their worries, all their anxieties and just be, knowing their Dominant has their back. Many find it empowering.”
He ran his fingers up her sides, just the lightest touch. Her breath caught in her throat. He was barely touching her and yet she was so turned on she could barely breathe. His fingers brushed over the sides of her breasts, and she dropped her arms instinctively.
He stilled. Grew tense. “You weren’t given permission to move, Aspen.”
His voice wasn’t nasty. It wasn’t raised. But she heard the disapproval. And she desperately wanted that warm, honeyed voice to return.
She raised her arms again. He relaxed and brushed his lips over her ear. “Good girl. Move them again without permission and you’ll get a demonstration of some of those consequences I talked about earlier.”
She trembled. “Don’t I get a safeword?”
“We’re just having a little talk, sprite. If you want me to stop, just say so and I will. Is that what you want?”
God, no, it was the last thing she wanted, and he knew it.
Damn him.
He kissed her ear, his warm breath brushing against her sensitive skin. Her clit throbbed in reaction. She’d never reacted to a man like this.
Jesus. He should come with a warning label. Might cause lust-filled self-combustion.
“Your mind is wandering, sprite. We can’t have that.” He cupped her breast, squeezing lightly.
She gasped in a breath.
“Now that I have your attention, where was I? Oh, yes, a submissive’s power.”
“I don’t understand how they have power. The Dom is the one in charge.”
“He is. But only because of the submissive. She has the ultimate power. To say yes. To safeword out. She or he gives their Dom permission to dominate them. And that is their choice. If the submissive doesn’t like something then they can use their safe word. A good Dom should be watching for signs that a submissive is uncomfortable. Not that that necessarily means he will stop.”
By this stage he was cupping both of her breasts with his hands, squeezing them gently. With her arms trapped around his neck, she was completely open to him.
“He might keep pushing. Might press her past those boundaries she didn’t think she could cross. But any real discomfort or fear will always be addressed.”
“You speak like all Doms are good people, that will abide by a safeword. Or will keep a submissive’s wellbeing uppermost in their mind.”
Saxon reached up and released her hands. Shit. Damn. Hell. What had she said? He turned her around so she faced him.
“I-I’m sorry. What did I do?”
“Sh. Nothing wrong. I just wanted to see your face.” He cupped her face and ran his thumbs over her cheeks. “Aspen, there are bad people everywhere. Are there Doms who don’t follow the safe, sane, and consensual rule? No doubt. Just like there are corrupt cops and politicians. Bad parents. But in my club, everything is monitored very closely. I meet with everyone before I allow them in. I have people coming from all over the state to play in my club. It’s as safe as I can make it. And I’ve never disrespected a safeword. You can trust that.”
For some reason, she did.
Then she shook her head. “You’re talking like we’re going to play together.”
“Oh, it’s coming, baby. It’s just a matter of how soon.”
“No, I . . .” she trailed off. It was hard to argue when her body was still awash with arousal and all she wanted was to feel his hands on her breasts once more.
“Aspen, look at me.”
She raised her gaze to his. “Don’t worry so much. I’ll take care of you.”
“I don’t understand you.”
“Sometimes you don’t need to understand something to know it’s right.”
She snorted. “Do you ever not think you’re right?”
“Now, why would I go and do something stupid like that?”
The mood immediately lightened, and she took a deep breath, stepping back out of his touch. Her body felt bereft. Longing for his touch.
Quit it, Aspen.
He’d woven a spell over her. He was a master at reading someone. At divining what they most desired and finding a way to offering it to them. What she wanted most was security for her boys and herself. Somewhere safe to live. To not worry all the time.
The question was, why was he offering it to her? It couldn’t simply be that he wanted her. That he wanted to dominate her. A man like Saxon could have anyone. She was nothing special. It didn’t even sound she was the type of person he got involved with.
“I’m losing you, aren’t I? There’s so much going on in that mind of yours. Wouldn’t it be nice if all you had to do was worry about obeying your Dom? To switch things off for a while?”
She licked her lips. “I’m not sure I could trust someone enough for that.”
“It takes a while to build trust. That’s one of the reason people play at a club. Because not everyone knows their Dominant well. Trusts them. But they can trust that my monitors will watch over them and ensure they’re safe.”
“I’ve never understood the appeal of getting naked in front of a bunch of strangers.”
He smiled. “Well, now, it’s up to your Dom if you get to be naked or not.”
She narrowed her gaze. “Seems like the Dom has all the fun.”
“Not at all. A submissive gets pleasure from serving her Dom. Pleasing him.”
She snorted. “Oddly enough, pleasing you isn’t high on my list of priorities.”
“It will be.”
“Arrogant, much?”
“I prefer to think of it as confidence.”
“And if I don’t want to-to play? Does that mean I’m fired?”
His eyes widened then narrowed. “Of course not. The job offer and a place to live are completely separate from this attraction between us.”
Were they? She wasn’t so sure.
He sighed, running a hand over his face. “I’m messing this up. I’ve never had such trouble with communication before.”
She bet he hadn’t.
“I’m going to make myself clear, all right? I’m offering you a job. A place to stay. For you and your boys. I know you don’t understand why I’m doing that. But this town helped me when I needed it. And now I can help you. But that’s not to say I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart. I don’t have much of one. I’m not a good guy—” He hel
d up his hand as she started to speak. “I believe I’ve made it clear I detest being interrupted. I find it rude. You don’t want to be rude, do you, Aspen?”
Of course not.
“I need someone who can bake and work with Renard. You need a job and a place to live. Whether or not you choose to let me show you your submissive side is up to you. And in no way will your decision affect your job. I’m not looking for a permanent sub or a wife. Even if the job doesn’t work out you are welcome to stay at the guest house until we find something else for you. However, while under my roof, you follow my rules. You know every woman in Haven is watched over. By their families or husbands or the sheriff. In your case it will be me.
“Break one of the rules, sweetheart, put yourself in danger, lie to me, and you’ll find yourself over my knee, your pants down around your knees with the palm of my hand heating your little butt cheeks. Now, any more questions?”
5
Any more questions?
Aspen rolled over, and punched the pillow beneath her in frustration. Damn him. Yes, she had questions. Like how could he fit so much arrogance inside him without exploding? Or how had someone not murdered him in his sleep before now?
He’d left soon after laying everything out. In great detail. He’d probably realized she’d reached the end of her control. And here she was, hours later, the boys asleep in their crib, unable to sleep because she was still going over their conversation.
He wouldn’t really spank me, would he?
She snorted. Of course he would. So would any man in Haven if their woman endangered themselves. She’d known that. She’d even been amused by it.
She just never figured the rules would ever apply to her. No, that wasn’t true. She’d never thought someone would care enough to actually take notice. Oh, the sheriff did what he could but he couldn’t know everything that went on. Could he? Thing was, the more she stuck around there the more she liked the town. She didn’t want to leave. And Saxon had given her a way to make her dream come true. If only she followed his damn rules.
Then there was the way he affected her. She knew there was no way she could be around him and not want him to touch her like he had earlier. Her breasts still tingled from the way he’d held them. That commanding voice telling her she didn’t have permission to move. She rubbed her legs together as her clit throbbed from the memory.
Saxon's Soul (Haven, Texas Book 5) Page 8
