At the front St. Andrew’s cross, Z held his cell phone to his ear and listened to the FBI agent rant about Gabrielle’s irresponsibility. With a huff of disgust, he snapped the phone shut and shoved it in his pocket.
Turning, he took a moment to study Jessica. He’d restrained her on the cross only a few minutes before. Color good, breathing easily, her gaze on him. Very nice. It wouldn’t hurt her to wait on his pleasure. Especially since she knew she’d incurred his wrath for trying to interfere between a dom and sub…again. Little Miss Protect the Other Subs.
He turned to watch Marcus half carry Gabrielle out of the Shadowlands. Whatever had happened in the gardens had sent the brave little decoy into a place where she wasn’t safe to drive, and Marcus was taking her home with him.
Guilt weighed heavy on Zachary’s shoulders. He’d wanted to tell Marcus the truth for Gabrielle’s sake, but he’d given his word, and so Marcus had pushed her-as a dom should. He was undoubtedly picking up on the discrepancies in her behavior. He wouldn’t go easy on her, not once he realized she’d kept secrets from him.
Z frowned, wishing he knew the dom better. Friendly but reserved, Marcus was taking his time in becoming friends with the other Masters. Nonetheless, he was a fine dom with a profound sense of honor and protectiveness.
Yes, little Gabrielle would be safe with him.
However, he’d better give Galen and Vance a heads-up. Unlike the idiotic Rhodes, the two FBI agents in charge of the investigation were experienced and careful doms, and they’d understand what had happened to the trainee.
Zachary massaged his neck as he looked around the club. Less than half the members remained this late at night. Although he’d changed the music to Enigma’s quieter chants, his head still throbbed like an overstretched balloon. He’d spent the evening talking with the members, leaving himself open to every emotional nuance, trying to find a hint of a predator in his club. Now his brain felt as if it might explode. At this point, he couldn’t read anyone, no matter how close he got.
He couldn’t even tell what Jessica was thinking-but from her body language, she’d take a cane to him if he let her loose at this point. He’d gagged her again before strapping her to the cross. He shook his head at the fury in her eyes. Normally he found her impertinent attitude delightful; he had never wanted a meek submissive.
But with a kidnapper targeting rebellious subs, every time she smarted off, his anxiety rose another notch. The thought of someone hurting Jessica… His jaw tightened. The man would die. Painfully.
He’d tried to talk her into taking a vacation right now, without him, and she’d laughed at him.
But Jessica wasn’t the only sub in the club in danger. He could damn well at least remove one target.
He spotted Sally a minute later and motioned her over, then checked Jessica again. Arms and legs in an X position, nicely open and exposed, her lush breasts begging for use. She caught his eye, and despite the gag, her growl came through clearly. He snorted a laugh and stepped out of the scene area as Sally trotted up.
The vivacious trainee grinned at him. “Master Z, can I do something?”
Keeping an eye on Jessica, Zachary studied Sally. As mischievous as a basketful of kittens, the trainee was as sassy as she was sweet. She topped from the bottom whenever given a chance, which happened all too often. Although the Masters could control her and did scenes with her occasionally, she had both more experience and more intelligence than far too many of the other doms. Too clever and too stubborn for her own good. He’d begun to wonder if she’d ever meet the right dom. “I have a favor to ask of you, Sally.”
“Sure. What can I do?” She’d gone for her favorite schoolgirl costume in a tied-up white shirt and short plaid skirt. Her braids swung, and she bounced on her toes as if he’d offered her a candy instead of wanting her help.
“I want you out of Tampa for a couple of weeks.” Zachary held up his hand to keep her from speaking. “I can’t explain except to say you haven’t done anything wrong. Not in the least. I’m dealing with an internal club matter.”
“But it’ll leave the trainees short.”
Typical of her to worry about the others. “I’ll work it out with Marcus.” He smiled, knowing the perfect bribe. “There’s an airline ticket for Des Moines waiting for you at the United counter. Eleven tomorrow morning. Go visit your family before school starts. Deal?”
Her eyes widened. “Really? Hell, yes.” She caught his frown and swallowed. “I mean, thank you, Sir.”
“Much better.” He tugged on a braid, then hesitated. She lived alone. “One more thing, pet. Please call here when you get to Des Moines. Just leave a message on the machine that you arrived safely. And if you’re worried about…anything…let me know.”
She gave him a suspicious look. “Something’s wrong. What’s going on?”
The sociable imp always knew all the gossip. He lifted her chin. “You will not discuss this, or that I asked you to take time off. Nothing. Am I clear?”
From the way she shrank, he’d scared her. Excellent.
“Yes, Sir. Get ticket, leave Tampa, check in, and don’t talk about it at all.”
“Very good. Off you go now.” He returned to the club’s other contender for brattiest sub. Jessica. Earlier he’d felt her emotions, a hodgepodge quite unlike his straightforward sub. Sadness definitely, uncertainty also. Her behavior had been worse than normal, especially in the Shadowlands, and damned if he knew why. Perhaps something to do with his boys’ visit. He studied her for a minute.
Damn, he loved her-loved her more every day they remained together. She returned it, but could he keep her happy? He was older, as his sons had so tactlessly pointed out, and love didn’t overcome everything. Over the last year, he’d carefully avoided any commitment so that she could back out of their relationship if she wanted.
Did she want to? Was her behavior a prelude to calling it quits? Or a reflection of his own moods?
They needed to have a long, long talk, but not now, not when he couldn’t share the information about the kidnappings and investigation. Damn the FBI bastards for insisting on secrecy.
Rubbing his neck, he strolled back to his feisty kitten. Her green eyes shot sparks at him as he took advantage of her helpless condition to enjoy her breasts, using his mouth and fingers until her nipples stood out in hard, dark red peaks. He moved down to her soft thighs, spread so invitingly open-her pussy, already wet and slick. He teased her, waiting for when her growling turned to panting and her face flushed with arousal.
And then he removed her gag and took her mouth, stroking his tongue against hers, working his fingers over her clit. No matter what might happen, for the moment, she was his. As her clit engorged under his touch, she whimpered and squirmed.
When he stepped back, her body strained toward him, needing more. As she remembered where she was, she turned adorably red. “You manipulative jerk.”
“Am I now?”
His cold tone snapped her attention to his face, and she winced. He held her gaze and unzipped his slacks. Being taken in public embarrassed her, but it also excited her. He smiled slowly. How many climaxes would it take before she’d lose her voice? Until exhaustion overwhelmed any urge for disobedience?
“Z. Master. Wait.”
“No,” he said softly. “I will not.”
Well, he’d certainly been wrong about the redheaded sub. The spotter leaned back against the bar, smiling. A few minutes ago, Marcus had dragged the submissive from the Shadowlands. Not a peep out of her.
Looking broken-but that’s what he’d thought before. Apparently a dom could subdue her for a time, as with the spanking last week, but she came right back, snapping and biting. He’d laughed when she’d noisily objected to the slave clothing.
And because of her spirit, the figging scene had been most entertaining. Yes, he’d definitely include her in his report this week. Delightful.
A shame Marcus hadn’t paddled her when she had the ginger up her ass. A submissive anticipating the next
