Make Me, Sir

Chapter Thirteen

On Saturday, Marcus halfheartedly watched Cullen lightly flog Andrea in the nearby scene area and tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. After looking forward to seeing Gabi all week, her attitude on Friday night and this evening had come as an unwelcome surprise. Last Sunday at his house, she’d been enthusiastic and loving, and he’d found her sassiness as cute as it was fun. She’d brought his home to life with her husky little giggle. He’d wanted more.

And he’d thought-hell, he’d known-she’d felt the same. But on Sunday, when he’d returned her to the Shadowlands, she’d jumped in her car and… Well, he’d pretty much have to say it looked like an escape. Fleeing.

Marcus shook his head. Last night, she’d treated him as if nothing had happened between them, and had returned to her bratty, inconsistent behavior with a vengeance. Why? She’d loved surrendering to him at his house. He’d been a dom long enough to know she hadn’t faked her submission there and that much of the crap she pulled here was forced. But he sure hadn’t figured out what to do about it.

A scream from the scene area drew his attention, and he smiled as Cullen tossed his flogger aside. The big bartender undid his leathers and first took Andrea’s mouth, then her ass, employing a couple of interesting toys to ensure they both had a good time.

A very good time considering the pretty sub couldn’t stand when Cullen unstrapped her from the sawhorse.

As Cullen cared for his sub and cleaned the equipment, Marcus did a mental check of his trainees. He’d given permission for Dara to go upstairs with a newer dom who appeared mesmerized by her piercings.

Austin had lusted after an older dom for months and finally got up enough nerve to flirt. Quite successfully. The dom had checked with Marcus, then dragged an enthusiastic Austin off to the dungeon. Marcus smiled. There might be a relationship starting.

Uzuri had left early, and since Tanner had already played with a couple who’d wanted a third, he’d finish the evening by serving drinks in the theme rooms. Apparently Sally had gone home to visit her family before school began. Surprising that the little minx hadn’t mentioned her plan to leave; sassy as she was, Sally took her responsibilities seriously.

Gabi was serving drinks and causing trouble. After dumping a soda in a dom’s lap, she’d asked if he wanted ice with his drink. She’d blown up a condom and popped it behind two doms having a discussion. And then she’d told a dom who was buckling ankle cuffs on his sub that he looked good on his knees. Well. Marcus had barely gotten out of hearing before he’d burst out laughing.

He sobered. The practical jokes could be tolerated, but she’d also grown increasingly insolent, deliberately trying to incite a reaction.

He’d made no progress at all. Dammit. His jaw tightening with frustration, he turned his gaze to watch Cullen finish stowing cleaning supplies.

The bartender scooped Andrea off the floor, where she’d waited with a blanket around her. In the sitting area, he dropped into a leather chair hard enough to earn an oomph from the sub. She glared at him. “I can’t believe the way you haul me around like I’m some doll.”

Rumbling a laugh, Cullen slid a hand under her blanket. “You’re my doll, love, and you’re not going to forget it.”

She melted at his touch and the tender look he gave her and snuggled closer.

Envy rolled through Marcus, and he set it aside. He knew full well the pain of loving the wrong woman was worse than the benefits. Before he and Patricia had divorced, she’d either frozen him out, pretended to love him to get her own way, or had temper tantrums. He’d actually preferred her rages-at least when angry, she’d shared her emotions honestly.

He thought of Gabi and the night she’d spent with him. How she’d snuggled closer to him in bed, how the rebellious spark in her eyes had changed to surrender, how she’d touched him… Those emotions had been honest. Or had they? Could he have misread her completely?

“You okay there, Marcus?” Cullen asked.

This wasn’t the time to indulge in unhappy woolgathering. He dredged up Gramps’s favorite saying. “Fine as frog’s hair, thank you.”

“How’s your brat?”

“My brat seems to have a button she pushes at intervals to switch on a demon inside her.”

Cullen barked a laugh.

“Seriously, she’s like a whipped dog, licking your hand one moment and attacking the next.” Marcus frowned. “I think she knows why, but she won’t tell me.”

Marcus spotted the sub. In a neon blue halter top and vinyl skirt, Gabi had a dragon tattoo running up her shoulder, and earrings resembling golden claws decorating the curve of her ears. His little dragon sub was still sassing the members. “You ever met her, Andrea?”

“Only to fill her drink orders at the bar.”

Marcus studied her. Andrea was a sub, had been a trainee, and was a compassionate woman. “Maybe she’d be more forthcoming with you.”

“Introduce us,” Andrea said after a second’s thought. “I won’t break a confidence, but I’ll talk to her if I can get her alone.”

“Good enough.” As Gabi neared the group, Marcus beckoned for her to join them.

Her eyes lit at the sight of him, but then her lips firmed. When she stiffened her shoulders and raised her chin, he knew she’d decided to smart off. Yes, he could read her, even if he couldn’t figure out her motivation.

She stood in front of him, setting her hands on her hips. “You guys are sure lazy bastards. Don’t you have scenes to do, subs to beat?”

“Kneel. Now.” Marcus pointed to his feet, putting enough snap into the command to get her to obey before her mind could react.

She dropped to her knees and, a second later, glared at him.

He smiled and pulled her between his legs, facing outward. Defiance or not, her sweet body felt just fine under his hands. He squeezed her shoulders, tracing the muscles beneath the soft feminine padding, enjoying the lovely curve of her neck. Wouldn’t she look beautiful in a strapless gown-perhaps a pretty blue to match the streak in her hair. “Gabi, you’ve met Master Cullen. His sub is Andrea. She was a trainee back when he had charge of them.”

Interest brightened Gabi’s face. “Nice to meet you, Andrea.”

Andrea glanced at Cullen and got a headshake-no talking-that made her glower.

Marcus smothered a chuckle and informed Cullen, “From the expression on your sub’s face, she is still not adequately trained.”

“Apparently not.” Cullen’s lips twitched before he frowned darkly at Andrea.

“I’m sorry, Señor.” She buried her head against him and added in a placating, sweet voice, “I love you.”

Cullen snorted. “Nice try, pet. I should still beat you.”

Her whispered “You just did, cabrón” carried as clearly as Cullen’s responding bark of laughter.

The wistful expression on Gabi’s face squeezed Marcus’s heart. She wanted what Andrea had with Cullen; he could see her longing. So why did she behave in a way so as to ensure she’d never have such a relationship?

“Although Andrea didn’t live on the streets like you,” Marcus told Gabi, “she grew up in the slums. And she caught grief from the other trainees.”

“But the trainees are nice…” Gabi said, but he heard unhappiness in her voice. Were they giving her trouble?

After getting Cullen’s permission to speak, Andrea said, “Only one sub was obnoxious, and she not only hated my background, but also that the most gorgeous man in the place was interested in me.”

“I wasn’t that interested in you, darlin’,” Marcus protested, earning a snicker from her before she clarified by patting Cullen’s arm.

“This gorgeous man.”

“Which trainee?” Gabi asked.

“She isn’t here anymore.” Andrea’s mouth thinned. “She planted money in my locker so everyone thought I’d stolen from her. Master Marcus and Dan grilled me like a criminal and threw me out of the club.”

Marcus winced. He still felt guilty over the way they’d treated her.

Shocked, Gabi twisted to stare up at the trainer. “You were rude?” She’d thought Mr. Southern Lawyer always acted like a gentleman.

Andrea snorted. “Dan was rude; Master Marcus just backed him up. Of course after I got past wanting to kill them, I realized I did look guilty. And they were so furious thinking I’d betrayed Cullen’s trust, they weren’t seeing clearly. They made a mistake.”

Snickering, Gabi widened her eyes at Marcus. “You mean you’re not God? Nooo, say it isn’t so!”

He leaned forward, cupped her breasts in his powerful hands, and whispered in a slow drawl, “While you are here, li’l sub, I am your god.”

The sound of his deep voice, the feel of his palms as his thumbs grazed over her nipples, turned her insides liquid and melted her bones. Even a god couldn’t turn her on as quickly. She closed her eyes for a second, just to savor being close to him, being touched, then sighed and let it go. Get back in the game, Gabi. “Did the trainee get in trouble at least?”

Andrea laughed. “After the guys finished questioning Vanessa, they left her to Z. By the time he got through with her, she was crying so hard he had to call her a taxi. Then he got her banned from every club-well, pretty much in Florida. I had no idea how well-known he is.

“Anyway, Master Z apologized to me here. Then Master Dan and Master Marcus apologized too, in front of everyone, even though they’d already talked to me before, and I’d forgiven them and everything.” She frowned at Marcus. “You guys almost made me cry.”

“Turning into a regular watering can, aren’t you, love?” Cullen stroked her cheek gently with his huge hand.

“You wish,” Andrea growled and nipped at his fingers. She wrinkled her nose at Marcus. “It was when you two gave me that humongous gift certificate to the best fetish-wear place in Tampa that I got teary-eyed.” She said to Gabi, “My budget didn’t go far, and I always looked like a poor relation in here, so I had a great time buying new clothes. I still haven’t spent it all.”

“I’ve enjoyed the benefits,” Cullen rumbled, running his hand across the low bodice of Andrea’s skintight vinyl dress. “So why don’t you let me admire this new dress from the rear. I’d enjoy a beer.”

“Yes, Sir.” Andrea slid off his lap.

Marcus squeezed Gabi’s shoulder and murmured in her ear. “Grey Goose, please.”

As she shoved to her feet, the “Yes, Sir” came out before she thought. Do better. She sucked in a breath, stuck her hand out, and shouted, “Heil Hitler,” then goose-stepped toward the bar. And tried really hard not to think about the disappointment that had darkened Marcus’s eyes.

Dammit. I hate, hate, hate this.

Master Raoul had been talking to Andrea, but when Gabi reached the bar, he moved away.

Andrea grinned at her. “You’re driving Master Marcus nuts, you know.”

“Yeah. I know.” And making them both unhappy. The lump in her throat made it difficult to talk.

“You doing it on purpose?”

The straightforward question coming from another sub left Gabi at a loss. The doms were the enemy, so to speak, but other submissives belonged on her team, and the habit of confiding in friends almost overcame her brains. “In a-” She shook her head, trying to get back on balance. “Maybe. Kind of.”

Andrea snorted. “There’s an answer. How come?”

“It always seems like a good idea at the time.” Gabi shifted uneasily. “Is Master Raoul ignoring us?”

“Nah. He just likes to talk to the newer doms and subs.” Andrea drew her finger through a wet spot on the bar. “So what did you do on the streets?”

Very blunt person, wasn’t she? Gabi grinned, realizing she could like her a lot. “I broke into houses, shoplifted, picked pockets.” Andrea’s dress had a pocket on one side. Leaning forward, Gabi reached for a stack of napkins farther down the bar, bumped into her…and lifted her car keys.

“Here,” Andrea said, pushing the pile of napkins closer.

“Here,” Gabi mimicked, setting Andrea’s key chain on top of the napkins.

Andrea broke into laughter. “You’re good! My cousins tried to learn, but they’re too ham-handed.” She caught Gabi’s frown and added, “They’re all reformed and respectable now.”

“Oh. I’m glad.”

“No kidding. All our indiscretions happened in the past, but it was still awkward, since Cullen’s a fire inspector and Dan’s a cop.”

Dan, the hard-faced one. “He’s a cop? That figures.” Gabi massaged her arm, remembering the way he’d dragged her across the room to Marcus.

“Oh, I know that grip. He’s a cop to the bones. Kari-the pregnant one-is a schoolteacher, and everyone says Dan’s mellowed a lot since meeting her.”

“Uh-huh, I can tell he’s a real pushover now.” Gabi leaned an elbow on the bar. Raoul hadn’t budged, so she could indulge her curiosity about the other Masters. “Who’s the dark-haired Master, the one with black eyes who looks so mean?”

“Master Nolan. Building contractor. And his sub, Beth, owns a landscaping business-she redesigned the gardens here.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“Huh?”

“I mean I’m glad Nolan and Dan are taken. Scary dudes. I wouldn’t want to do a scene with one of them. Of course, when Marcus gets angry…” That’s even worse. Gabi mocked a shiver, ignoring the dull ache in her belly from making him unhappy again.

“You’re scared, and you still sass them?” Andrea frowned. “That’s not very smart.”

Gabi shrugged. “My father insists my shoe size is bigger than my IQ.”

As Andrea sputtered with laughter, Master Raoul walked over to get their drink orders. Finally.

Late Saturday night, Jessica sat upstairs in Z’s private third-story rooms and fumed. She hadn’t gone to the Shadowlands yesterday because of a late client appointment-estimated tax payments could screw up the best schedules-and had looked forward to tonight. But Z had said he didn’t want her in the club. And the jerk wouldn’t tell her why, just claimed he had internal club problems.

Sure he did. She paced across the living room. Galahad watched, the end of his tail flicking as he contemplated chasing her feet. At least he wanted to chase her.

In the quiet room, she could hear the sounds of the Shadowlands, the low pulse of the music, mostly the bass. Occasionally a high cry. Very little, really. Z had said he’d put in an excessive amount of soundproofing when he set up the club.

What would he do if she went down there? Jessica tried to rub the chill from her arms. He’d left no room for misunderstanding. Stay out of the club tonight and next weekend too. He’d smiled and said that was all he’d ask, just tonight and next weekend.

Her mouth thinned. When she’d worked on the Shadowlands accounts, she’d noticed the new trainee’s membership lasted only a month-after next weekend, Gabrielle would be gone.

Well, maybe I’ll be gone too.

The thought pierced her heart like a sharp blade. She shook her head. Z’s withdrawal had something to do with that…that person. What if he wanted to play with her without Jessica around to get her feelings hurt?

She stared at the wall. In the beginning, Z had let Cullen join a scene and touch Jessica. Did Z figure she should share him with others?

Anger sliced into her brain so sharply it took her breath away. I won’t, damn him. Her hands fisted, and if he’d been present, she’d have hit him. Man, I need to get out of here before I make a scene like a child.

She trotted down the inside stairs and stopped in the ground-floor hallway. No car. Z’d picked her up, saying she could join the guys’ poker game after closing. She was stuck here until Z left the club. Dammit.

At the bottom of the stairs in the empty hall, she paced up and down, and if she kicked the wall a few times, well, tough.

An unknowable amount of time later, she heard the sound of a key, and Z stepped through from the club. God, he looked tired. Under the unforgiving hall light, harsh lines bracketed his mouth; another line carved between his eyebrows. How could he make her heart leap, make her worry about him, and make her hate him all at the same time?

He saw her and inclined his head. “Jessica. Is there a problem?”

“No.” Yes. She stomped on the urge-the need-to hold him, to let him comfort her and to give him comfort in return. He looked like he badly needed a hug.

No. He could just take himself off and get soothed by someone else.

Maybe he’d gotten tired of having a short, fat sub. “I need a ride back to my place. Can you ask one of the guys to give me a lift?”

“Hadn’t we planned you would spend the night?”

“I changed my mind.” She sounded like a kid having a temper tantrum and couldn’t summon up the energy to care. He’d left her alone all evening. He didn’t want her there. His sons hated her and thought her too young for him-and maybe she was. “Either find someone to take me home or do it yourself.”

He studied her face for a long moment and then sighed. “All right, kitten. Perhaps that would prove best for tonight.” He held out his hand. “I’ll drive you home.”

She didn’t take his hand. Everything inside her hurt. She’d expected him to argue, to push her into talking about her fears, to…to show it mattered to him whether she stayed or left. “Thank you.” She turned and headed toward the door to the garage. They’d have a long, long, silent drive home.

Right now her only goal was to make it there without crying.

In the parking area near the Clearwater Downtown Docks, Cesar Maganti drank his coffee and watched the boat lights bob up and down in the darkness. The wharf never stayed totally quiet, even this late, but no one paid any attention to his big appliance truck.

Muffled screams of pain came from the back of the truck as Jang toyed with the female they’d taken earlier. She’d barely awakened from the sedative before Jang had started. He was a brutal bastard but reliable, and discreet help was difficult to find. The Overseer didn’t care if the girls were roughed up some as long as they’d heal up in two to three weeks’ time. That left a lot of leeway for someone like Jang.

The girl started to cry, and Maganti heard the wet sounds of sex.

On the seat beside him, his phone vibrated. Maganti checked the number. The Overseer. “Yes?” No identification, no trace. Both of them used disposable cell phones that would get tossed after the last pickup.

“I received your message about a problem with the order.”

Maganti sat up as anxiety burned off his relaxed mood. “Yes. I’m sorry, but-”

“What happened?”

“The lighter-colored piece is more trouble than it’s worth.” The Overseer’s list included a sassy blonde and a brunette from the Shadowlands. Maganti was to take whoever proved safer.

But his investigation showed the blonde had a relationship with her dom and saw him during the week as well as on BDSM nights. Often a woman who only played at a club could disappear without making waves. Hell, half the time a dom wouldn’t even know a sub’s real name. But a husband or lover would search forever and create all sorts of stink.

“I see. And the other?”

“Unavailable.” The fucking brunette had disappeared into thin air.

“That’s disappointing. Let me check if I received an update.” The clicking of a keyboard broke the silence on the phone. “Ah yes. There’s a very fine piece that fits our specifications. I’ll send you the new parts number.”

Maganti grinned. Score! When the brunette cunt had disappeared last Sunday, he’d worried he’d lose a fucking quarter of his potential fee. “Good enough. I’ll watch for it.” He didn’t know where the dude got the names of the females; he didn’t need or want to know.

“Any trouble securing the rest of the order?”

“Nope. I’m waiting for the pickup now, in fact.” He’d grabbed this bitch easily enough. Even better, the only people who might miss her were at her job. On Monday, he’d send her boss an e-mail explaining she’d had a death in the family.

“Very good. Will the new part be ready before next Sunday? After that would be too late.”

“If the new piece checks out, I’ll package the last order for shipping on Friday or Saturday.”

“Good.” Silence indicated the Overseer had hung up.

Maganti heard retching noises coming from the back and turned to yell at Jang, “Get that fucking gag off before she chokes.” He spotted a boat pulling up to the dock. “Her ride’s here. Let’s move.”