Saxon's Soul (Haven, Texas Book 5)

by Laylah Roberts

  It was nice of him to try to pretend it wasn’t true. But she knew it was.

  “You heard the doctor. I can’t work for at least a couple of days. I’m sure after that it will be fine. But the restaurant is opening soon and Renard wants me to make a strawberry-lemon cake. And the one I attempted didn’t turn out so I’m going to have to practice making it again. And I—”

  “Quiet.”

  “Don’t know how I’m going to manage that in such a short time—”

  “Aspen. Be. Quiet.”

  The low menace in his voice made her freeze. He pulled up outside his house then climbed out. She was fumbling with her own belt when he opened her door and, reaching in, undid it easily before pulling her out and into his arms.

  “I can walk,” she protested.

  “I believe I gave you an order.”

  That was an order? She thought it over. Yeah, it had been. She subsided into silence. Truth was, she didn’t feel much like fighting. She was too busy beating herself up to enter into an argument with him.

  He carried her into his house. She stared up at him with a frown. He didn’t give her any explanation, though, just walked with her into a living area. Unlike the main living room at the front of the house, this one was smaller. It had dark leather furniture, a huge TV affixed to the wall, and wooden, built-in shelves on either side of the TV It felt homier than the rest of the house. If a room could hug you it was this one.

  He laid her down on the couch then pointed at her. “Stay there.”

  “But Sax—”

  “What’s my name?”

  She swallowed heavily. Damn he could be intimidating. “Joel.”

  He gave her a nod then turned and left. She should get up despite his order to stay put. She had to check on the boys, relieve Gwen, figure out what the hell she was going to do now. How could this have happened? Panic made her breath come in short pants. She moved her legs around so her feet rested on the floor, trying to bring air into her lungs.

  “Shit.”

  She barely heard the curse over the roaring in her ears.

  “Lean down, head between your knees. That’s it.” A large, warm hand wrapped itself around the nape of her neck, pressing her head down. “Try and slow your breathing. You’re all right. Everything is fine. I’m here. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

  From someone else she might have scoffed at those words as an empty promise. Something a man would say to a woman to get her to do what he wanted. To get her into his bed. Yet, from Saxon, they were anything but.

  Gradually, she felt steadier and the hand lifted. “Easy now,” he told her. “If you feel dizzy again I want you to put your head down.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “No. You’re not. But you will be.” He gently took hold of her injured hand, which was wrapped in a white bandage. The doctor had stitched it up after giving her an injection to numb the area.

  He placed a pillow on her lap then rested her injured hand on it. Grabbing her feet, he lifted them to rest on a velvet footstool that should have looked out of place in this masculine room, yet lent it an air of elegance. Just a touch. Another man might have seen something so feminine as a threat to his masculinity. Not Saxon.

  Not that there was anything that could really threaten his masculinity anyway.

  He reached for a glass of iced tea that he’d put on the coffee table. He held the straw to her lips.

  “Drink.”

  “I can hold it.” She reached for the glass and he lightly smacked her hand.

  “I didn’t ask you to hold it. Now drink.”

  She watched him warily as she took a sip. He was wound up tight. She could see the energy coiled inside him.

  “Better?” he asked as she pulled back.

  She nodded. She did feel better. Her head was clearer and she was calmer.

  “Tell me what that panic attack was about.”

  It wasn’t a request or a question. He sat on the coffee table facing her, and just waited patiently. The lines around his eyes tightened, so maybe not that patiently. She shifted around on the sofa. “I really need to get to the boys—”

  “The boys are fine. Gwen and Thomas are with them. I called to check, and they’re taking a nap.”

  Relief filled her. “Thank you.”

  He nodded. “Now that you know they’re fine, I want to know what’s going on with you.”

  “Nothing’s going on with me. Well, other than eleven stitches in my hand.” She attempted to laugh. It was a pretty pathetic attempt.

  His gaze narrowed, and he rubbed his forefinger against his chin. “All right, pet. Since you’re unwilling to be honest with me, let me lay a few facts out. You agreed to live by my rules, under my protection when you came to live here, yes?”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “Yes or no answers will suffice,” he told her. She froze at the chill in those words. Oh, shit. Her stomach shriveled and she felt like hunching over until she could somehow crawl into the couch and disappear. “You were given a chance to talk and you declined. Keeping things from me that are worrying you isn’t allowed. Putting yourself in harm is not allowed.”

  “I didn’t deliberately cut myself,” she muttered.

  “Do I need to get a gag?” he asked her calmly.

  “W-what?”

  “I enjoy gagging mouthy little subs. And you might find it helpful since you seem to be unable to control yourself.”

  Her mouth dropped open. Control herself? She could control herself just fine, thank you very much. Her eyes widened as he drew a ball gag from his pocket. It had a black leather strap and a red, silicone ball. She’d done enough research into BDSM to know what one looked like even if she hadn’t seen one in real life. Jesus, it looked scary.

  “Well? Ball gag or are you going to stick to yes/no answers?”

  She pressed her lips together. “Yes/no answers.”

  “Oh, well, that’s a disappointment.” He put the gag down on the coffee table rather than back in his pocket. Did he carry the damn thing around all the time?

  “I thought I might need it, so I grabbed it when I got your iced tea. I may keep carrying it around. Never know when a little sub will get mouthy.”

  Was he talking about her or in general? She pressed her lips together at the surge of jealousy she felt thinking about him gagging someone else. Not that she actually wanted to be gagged, of course.

  Definitely not.

  “So you agreed to the rules. Yet the second you hurt yourself instead of calling me as you should have, you decided to take care of things yourself, did you not?”

  She wanted to protest, but then took a look at the gag. She sighed. “Yes.”

  “Because you didn’t want my help?”

  What?

  She shook her head. “No.”

  He raised both eyebrows. “That wasn’t the answer I expected. So you did want my help yet still didn’t ask me for it? Instead Renard had to physically carry you to me.”

  She opened her mouth and he held up a hand.

  “No, I think we can do without your input.”

  She frowned at him unhappily.

  “Yes, I know you’re not happy with me but the truth is I’m not that happy with you right now either.” There was a snap to his voice that had her taking in a sharp breath.

  He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Jesus, will you stop looking at me like that.” He let out a low bark of laughter. “I have subs fall over themselves to get my attention. They wouldn’t hesitate to let me know what they needed and yet you won’t even come to me when you’re bleeding and close to passing out. You’ve got a way of hammering at a man’s ego, pet.”

  Oh, shit. She’d hurt him? Insulted him? She didn’t mean to do that. In fact, that was the last thing she wanted to do after all he’d done for her. Without thinking, she slid off the sofa and onto her knees between his open legs. His eyes widened then he reached for her.

  “Aspen.”

  He
r name sounded foreign coming from his lips. She’d grown used to his nicknames and her real name made her flinch for some reason.

  “Joel, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” It seemed preposterous to think that she could hurt him. That she’d have that power. “I just . . .”

  “You just what?”

  “Didn’t want to be a problem. You’re busy and it was just a cut. I thought I could take care of it myself.”

  He stood then reached for her, lifting her to her feet. He sat on the sofa, settling her onto his lap. She held herself stiffly, not used to being held like that.

  Saxon didn’t say anything. He just ran his hand up and down her back. Soft, slow movements that gradually had her relaxing. She yawned. The numbing injection the doctor had given her were really good. She didn’t feel any pain yet. She relaxed into his hold bit by bit, resting her head against his chest.

  “That’s better. I’m guessing you haven’t been held like this much.”

  She snorted softly. “You’d guess right. Oh, sorry, yes.”

  His chest moved as he laughed quietly. “You really aren’t very obedient, sprite.”

  She stiffened. “Sorry.”

  “Now, don’t go getting all stiff again. Lie against me and just relax for a moment. So much goes on up here,” he tapped her head, “that you don’t really give yourself a chance to just be, do you?”

  “Hasn’t been much of an opportunity in my life to relax.”

  “We’re going to change that.”

  They were? That sounded nice. Impossible but nice. How many times over these last few weeks had she wished she could just hop onto one of those sun loungers by his pool and have an hour or so to just lie there? She couldn’t ever recall having time to just laze around and do nothing. Maybe when she was younger, but definitely not since she’d had the boys.

  “I should get back to Jamie and Caleb.”

  “Sh. They’re fine. Do you think I’d allow them to be anything but?”

  So arrogant. “You can’t control the whole world.”

  “Not the whole world. Just my little corner of it.”

  She opened her eyes then leaned away to look up at him. “You have some big control issues going on there.”

  He pressed her head back to where it had been. “That makes two of us.” He reached over and grabbed the forgotten pillow, laying it on her lap and placing her hand on it.

  “Tell me if I get too heavy,” she said sleepily. Damned if she didn’t love being cradled in his arms. Here it felt like nothing could get to her. Like she was safe.

  He kissed the top of her head. “In no way could you ever be too heavy. You still need several good meals. Are you eating enough?”

  She yawned again. “I’m fine.”

  “You say that too often. Even when it is blatantly untrue.” He rubbed the back of her neck and she moaned with pleasure. “So wound up and stiff. It’s a wonder you can sleep at night.”

  “I can’t.

  “That so?”

  She shrugged. “Mostly, I toss and turn until the wee hours of the morning. Too much going on to shut my brain off.”

  “Hmm, we’ll have to see what we can do about that.”

  “I won’t take a sleeping pill. I might not hear the boys if they need me.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t talking about a pill.”

  She shifted around on his lap, felt something hard pressing against her buttock.

  He placed an arm over her hips as though sensing she was going to jump up. “Don’t get scared off. It’s just a reaction to having you so close.” He nuzzled at her neck. “Perfectly natural, if a little uncomfortable.”

  “Sorry,” she whispered.

  He chuckled. “You’re the first person to ever apologize for giving me a hard-on.”

  “Oh.” It did sound a bit silly when he said it out loud. “Are you sure you don’t want me to move?”

  “If you move then I’ll just have to put you back here.”

  Where she belonged. Now where the hell did that thought come from?

  Feeling uncomfortable, she held herself stiffly. His fingers started to massage her scalp and she closed her eyes with a low whimper. Oh, God that felt so good. She couldn’t help but slump against him.

  He tilted her chin up then leaned down and kissed her. Her clit tingled and her nipples hardened. His tongue slipped gently between her lips to tease and play. She made a low murmuring noise, wanting more. Needing it.

  He drew back to look down at her. “I want you to come to me if you or the boys are ill or injured, or you’re worried and need help. Or if things aren’t going well with Renard.”

  She stiffened.

  “Hmm, I thought that might be the case. I told you to come to me if he was being too much of an asshole.”

  “It’s not a big deal. I can handle him.”

  “Little girl, you’re already in a world of trouble. I suggest you don’t add to it.”

  Crap.

  “He’s a prick.”

  “Yes. And?”

  “I can get along with him most of the time, but some of his demands are unreasonable. Like that layer cake. I don’t even see the point. We have enough desserts. And he’s been worse lately.” She frowned. “I feel like I’m tattling.”

  “You’re under my protection. I have the right to know if something or someone is upsetting you.”

  His possessiveness did something funny to her stomach.

  “So how do you want to handle this?”

  “You’d let me handle it?” She sat up a bit straighter. She’d expected him to immediately want to ride in on his white horse, guns blazing. It’s why she hadn’t said anything until now. Perhaps that had been a mistake.

  “You’re smart, mature, and I trust you. If you say you can handle Renard then I will support you.”

  “Holding back hasn’t helped. But I don’t want to spend all my time arguing with him over every little thing.”

  “I think it’s a matter of picking your battles. But he’ll respect you more for making a stand and sticking to your guns. It helps that he likes you.”

  “He does?”

  “Yep. Hasn’t complained about you once.”

  “I guess that’s as good as praise from him, huh?” she said wryly.

  “It is. Listen, you’ve got some time to figure this out since you won’t be at work until the doctor gives you the all clear. But I want to know if he gets out of hand. Or if it becomes too much. Will you promise you will come to me?”

  “I will. I’m sorry I didn’t come to you. About Renard or my hand.”

  “Well, after your punishment I’m sure you’ll think twice before breaking the rules again.”

  Her eyes widened. “Punishment?”

  “You knew the rules. You tried to prevent me from my duty.”

  “I don’t want to be a duty.”

  “A duty doesn’t have to be something you don’t enjoy. I’m a Dom, baby. Taking care of people is what I do.” His lips twitched. “Punishing them when they’re naughty is just a side benefit.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “You’d enjoy punishing me?”

  “I like delivering a bit of pain to a naughty submissive.”

  Her stomach tightened at the thought of how many submissives he’d punished.

  “Now that Malone’s cousin, Jardin is a member of the club, I might hand over the task of punisher to him. I believe he has experience from his old club in New Orleans. He enjoys it even more than I do. But, then, he’s a sadist.”

  “He’s a what?”

  “Sadist. He enjoys inflicting pain on others. Well, generally only when they want the pain. There are plenty of masochists at the club for him to beat on. But punishing a submissive when they’ve been disobedient or bratty will be right up his alley.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “Language,” he reprimanded. “He doesn’t go around advertising it.”

  His arms tightened around her and he kissed the top of her head. “We’r
e going to work on your avoidance of asking for help, little one.”

  They were? How? But she didn’t ask as his hand returned to massage her scalp. God, that felt like heaven.

  “Are you hurting?”

  “No. It’s still all numb. I’m just tired.”

  “Thomas will be back soon with your painkillers. Just have a rest then, pet. I’ll take care of everything else.”

  “I’ll get back to work as soon as possible. Promise.”

  He tightened up then relaxed. “You’ll do exactly as the doctor told you and take a week off.”

  “But the opening—”

  “Won’t be for several weeks. I’ve had a few delays. It’s not the end of the world.”

  Guilt filled her, making her stomach tighten.

  “Stop worrying. If I’m not concerned, then you certainly shouldn’t be. All you need to worry about is healing and getting better. Oh, and the punishment you’re going to be getting once you’re feeling better.”

  “You wouldn’t really punish me, would you?” She looked up at him, giving him her best pout.

  He laughed and kissed her lightly. “Oh, pet, I most certainly would.”

  11

  She was unbelievably nervous.

  She stood in her small living room, half-listening to Gwen talk, unable to believe that she was about to do it. She was going to a BDSM club. With Saxon.

  Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.

  The stitches in her hand had come out today. This last week had been . . . well, it had been a revelation. Even though he’d had to work, Saxon had taken as much time off he could to spend with her and the boys. Like a real family. Yeah, she didn’t know much about real families, but this was kind of what she’d imagined. A loving husband and father who doted on her and the boys, who put them first, who spent time with them.

  He’d insisted that they move into the main house. He wouldn’t hear of her trying to look after the boys on her own with her injury. He’d even gotten up with them in the night several times.

  It had been amazing and also a little frustrating. Because, although he’d paid a lot of attention to her and Jamie and Caleb, he’d been surprisingly hands-off. Oh, he’d touched her, but they’d been very, well, vanilla touches. A kiss, a hand at her back, taking hold of her hand. Her good hand, not her injured one. He’d shown her every courtesy, opened doors, carried anything even remotely heavy, kissed her good night every night and told her often how beautiful she was.