To Command And Collar

Andrea grinned. “He’s so proud, it’s cute.”

Kari snickered. “Don’t be a smarty. Can you imagine how your Cullen would act?”

“Pretty much like that. Wouldn’t they all?” Andrea’s smile softened as Cullen touched Zane’s cheek, pleasure filling his face. “He wants children, so we’ll be locking up the dungeon furniture sooner or later.”

“Hiding the equipment?” Beth stared at her scar-faced dom and the gentle way he’d taken the baby’s fingers as if marveling at how small next to his big hand. Beth’s eyes narrowed. “That’s what Nolan was drawing last night- dungeon furniture that converts into bedroom furniture.”

“If he sells it, he’ll get rich. Richer.” Jessica grinned. “Dan and Kari have started a trend. Look at those so- called hard-asses.”

Kim sighed. The doms’ faces turned gentle when they looked at the baby. Then each would gaze over at his submissive as if imagining her with his child. “I bet some birth control pills are going to get dumped in the next few months.”

“Dios, after seeing the baby, I might not protest too much,” Andrea muttered. “Maybe I’ll let Cullen marry me after all.”

“Respectability sucks.” Jessica pouted. “Z said no babies until we get married, and Mom’s insisting on a church wedding. You know how long those take to plan?”

“I know the feeling,” Beth grumbled. “I still can’t believe mine bribed Nolan to delay our wedding. With wine, no less. Men are so easy.”

Kari laughed. “I can’t believe you took less than two weeks for a honeymoon.”

Beth colored. “It wasn’t as if I got to see much of anything besides the bed anyway.”

Smiling, Kim watched as Dan and his son got to Sam. Sam already had grown children, didn’t he? He smiled at the baby and said something to Dan that made him laugh.

Then Master R reached out, and Dan actually put the baby in his arms. He held the little bundle easily, and a smile flashed in his dark face as tiny fists appeared out of the blanket. He rubbed his knuckles over the baby’s cheek, and Kim remembered how he’d do that with her when he was especially pleased or tender.

As he passed the baby to Dan, he smiled, and maybe only Kim saw the touch of envy. Her heart wrenched when, as the other men had done, his gaze came to rest on her, the heat, the sheer desire so potent that her feet started across the patio. Just because he’d shown her his need.

But he shook his head and turned away, checking the food he was cooking on the giant barbecue.

She halted. He doesn’t want me. Or he doesn’t want to. She wanted to give him everything. Starting with herself. But he didn’t feel the same. She stood in the center of the patio. Needing to retreat. Needing to go forward. Still as torn as she’d been since the night he bought her.

Sam had been talking with Cullen, but he paused. He stared at her for a minute, his face expressionless, then leaned over and spoke to Master R.

Master R’s muscles contracted beneath his thin cotton shirt before he slowly turned. With an unreadable expression, he walked over and stood beside her, pretending to watch Kari. “He’s a pretty baby, no?” He didn’t touch her. Didn’t smile.

“Yes.” She stared at her feet. He’d only said he loved her that one time. Dammit, she shouldn’t have come. This was unbearable. She glanced up and saw the smoldering need in his gaze, like a surge of electricity to her own desire. And then he buried it again.

“Damn you,” she whispered.

He frowned. “Chiquita, what is wrong?” He touched her, the graze of his knuckles, the tenderness exactly as with the baby. This man would never take his loved ones for granted; she knew that right down to the bottom of her heart. He’d cherish and protect, care for with everything in him.

He doesn’t want me though. But she wanted him. And she was tired of trying to make a decision. Let him decide for both of us-hey, that’s what he wants, right? To be in charge?

And suddenly, it was so easy after all. Turning her head, she kissed his fingers and saw him freeze. She let her bag drop to the pavement and slipped down to her knees.

Over the pounding of her heart, she heard a squeak. Jessica.

She pulled her bag closer. It held something she’d cried over, thrown across the room, kissed, hated and cursed, and then cuddled at night. The concrete was hot against her legs. The scent of the ocean hung in the air as she took out the collar he’d given her, the one she’d found on the stairs the night of the auction. The leather was smooth, and she traced her fingers over the words Master Raoul’s gatita.

Am I still?

She laid it over her palms, trying to bow her head but failing. She needed to see his face or she might die. She raised it up. “May I wear your collar, Master?” she asked and heard no sound on the patio at all except the surging of the ocean and the hammering of her heart.

His silence terrified her. For a moment, his eyes kindled as if a fire had lit behind them, and his breath ran ragged. Then his face grew remote… Her Master R had stepped behind his walls. His voice was gentle but firm. “No. I’m sorry, Kimberly. I cannot be your master.”

Like a knife wound, his words sliced through her, cutting open her flesh, driving ruthlessly into her chest. The pain arrived a second later. Her protest escaped before she could think. “But… You wanted this. Wanted me.”

He rubbed his palm over his mouth, his eyes unhappy. “I did,” he said so softly she barely heard him. His voice strengthened. “But it cannot work between us. You don’t want a master. You never did and even less now, after what you’ve been through.”

“I do.”

“Can you be that sure, carino?” he asked so softly.

She started to say yes, then caught his intent look. “No,” she said honestly and blinked back the tears. “But I’ll regret it all my life if we don’t try. I want to try.” She swallowed. “Master, please.”

He just looked at her, and his gaze filled with pain. “I…can’t. No.”

She bowed her head, trying not to give in to tears. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t cry, no matter what happened.

Master R hadn’t moved. It was up to her to get out of here. Out of his way. Out of his party and his life. Her chest had hollowed out, an aching hole where her heart had been. This was far worse than leaving him before. At least then, she’d had hope.

She put the collar back in her bag, touching it like a tiny being that had died. Her legs didn’t cooperate when she tried to stand.

A hand appeared in front of her face. Not Master R’s thick-boned, powerful hand. This was lean, fingernails groomed, a dark watch on the wrist. She wrapped her fingers around his palm, and the man pulled her to her feet with a graceful strength.

Master Z. When he tucked her into his side, she leaned against him. “Don’t quit yet, little one,” he whispered in her ear.

“Can you see she gets home, Z?” Master R asked. The smoothness and lilt had fled his voice, adding to her sorrow.

“No, I don’t think so, Raoul.”

She started to say she’d get herself home, but Z’s arm around her squeezed the air from her lungs.

Master R’s face tightened, anger shadowing his eyes. “Don’t interfere in what you don’t understand, my friend,” he said, a threat hanging in the air.

“I think I understand quite well,” Z said mildly. “Your marriage left scars. And you don’t want to be hurt again, but this little one keeps doing it. She’s finally made up her mind, but you can’t be sure and aren’t about to risk it again. Unfortunately, she can’t give you a guarantee, especially after everything she’s been through. Do I have it about right?”

She’d hurt him when she’d left? Oh God, she really had. She’d been so stupidly focused on herself, thinking he was self-sufficient. She hadn’t looked at what she was doing to him. “I’m so, so sorry,” she whispered, wincing at the misery flickering across his face.

“This is not the place to discuss this,” Master R said tightly. “Take her ho-”

Z smiled faintly. “This is exactly the place. Nothing in life is guaranteed, Raoul.”

“I know that.” Master R’s gaze dropped to her face, unyielding. Unhappy. “Kimberly, I tried living in a