Merrick
It was a slow night.
A couple of members managed to convince Elias to host a goddamn orgy in one of the general purpose play areas, hoping to have it added to the events schedule once a month, and it seemed the majority of on-site guests were taking advantage of the free for all.
Half a dozen dungeon monitors were on duty over there, which made Merrick a little jealous. His balls were so fucking blue after ten days with Tamsyn, it was a wonder he could walk in a straight line.
She was temptation in its finest form.
Bit by bit, he was backing off the more intimate forms of care as she was able to take care of them herself—bathroom trips were simply monitored now; she could get herself to and from without losing her balance or passing out. He helped her in and out of the bath with the most minimal touch, only washing the areas she couldn’t reach thanks to the cast.
Every time he put his hands on her, he got greedy.
He wanted to stroke and caress in ways that weren’t platonic. He was fucking desperate to shove those slim thighs open and devour the pretty pink prize between them. Even his carefully crafted morals were wavering as they clashed with the constant ache of craving her any way he could take her.
Whenever he fantasized about ravaging her, he stamped a huge neon warning over the mental images: MISTAKE. He wasn’t a man who willingly made mistakes. He fucked up just like every other mortal on the planet, but it would be easy to make this particular mistake and swallow the regret that came after the deed was done.
He listened with half an ear as his radio crackled with chatter until someone said his name. Plucking it from his belt, he replied, “Fordham?”
“Yeah. How many guests do we have with broken wrists?”
Just like that, his stomach plummeted into his feet. “Where is she?”
“She’s having a panic attack in the middle of an orgy. No one can get near her, not even the Dommes.”
What the fuck? Tamsyn wouldn’t disobey him, not even to be a brat. He knew that in his gut—she was too much of a people pleaser, afraid to piss anyone off. So why the hell had she left the cabin, and how had she gotten all the way down to this end of the club?
“Send someone to cover me in the dungeon,” he snapped. “I’m on my way.”
“Felicity should be about there.”
Merrick couldn’t see her, and he damn sure wasn’t going to wait for her. Every instinct demanded he get to Tamsyn and deal with the problem. If anyone in that fucking orgy had touched her, he would toss them headfirst into the garden shredder.
Slamming the radio back into its holster, he strode out of the dungeon like a man going to war. The door bounced off his shoulder first, then the wall with an ominous crack, fueling his rage.
Storming along the path, he caught sight of three guests playing some kind of idiotic hunting game at a guess—they wore camo pants and heavy boots, black paint smeared over their bare chests, arms, and faces.
When he rounded the corner, he ran into a sub in a full wolf onesie. She jolted and yelped, slapping a hand over her mouth. Because he was still on goddamn duty, he paused and asked, “You okay?”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered. “We’re just playing—oh shit.”
A gleeful holler from behind told him the three hunters were on their prey. He stepped aside as the little wolf took off and her pursuers blew past him like speed demons. She didn’t stand a chance, he mused, almost amused by their antics, and the scream that followed thirty seconds later confirmed his suspicions.
Thinking of little subs running, Merrick’s dark mood returned. The crunch of gravel under his boots became angrier, each step more threatening. By the time he reached the orgy cabin, he was damn near vibrating.
Fordham met him in the anteroom. “Calm down, big guy. She’s okay.”
“I’ll be the fucking judge of that.”
His friend sighed. “Just calm down. I’ll tell you what I know.”
Supremely pissed, Merrick tried to step past him, but Ford rammed the heel of his hand into his sternum. The sharp pain was enough to calm him slightly, enough that he might not use the shredder, but just his hands instead.
“Your girl didn’t know what she was getting herself into, Merrick. Both Ericka and Violet attest to it. She came in wearing a robe, barefoot, and one of the guys thought she was just a nervous newbie. He was good with her, he didn’t pressure her. He just didn’t realize she was non-verbal.”
Something about Fordham’s tone set Merrick’s hackles rising. “What does that mean?”
The normally eloquent Master seemed to think over what he’d just said. “I—”
Merrick shoved him forcefully out of the way, then bulled through the doors into the main room. He stopped, disoriented by the dim lighting, squinting through the near darkness until his eyes adjusted.
The orgy was a sea serpent in the middle of the room, a writhing coagulation of bodies in every position imaginable. It was a knife to the gut, understanding his little owl had been in the center of all this debauchery. It only twisted further when he replayed those nine words over and over in his head.
He was good with her, he didn’t pressure her.
Who the fuck was he?
Searching the room for Tamsyn, he bit back the urge to flick the lights on and tell the frolicking, cavorting guests to get dressed and get the fuck out. His muscles relaxed a fraction when he saw Violet gliding through the darkness as though she was born there, heading straight for him.
He made a beeline for her, stepping around stray legs and a threesome slowly disengaging from the rest of the party. The unique symphony of an orgy held no interest for him now; he blanked it all out, focusing on Violet’s strained face and the rigid set of her shoulders.
“Keep a tight hold on your temper, Merrick,” she snapped in her lyrical drawl, abruptly turning on her heel when she reached him. She strode off again without pause, and he swore the darkness parted for her. “Do not lose your shit with Blake; he did nothing wrong.”
Merrick saw the guy first, standing to one side, stark bollock naked. But it was the sight of Tamsyn huddled against the wall, her arms wrapped around her knees as she rocked, that took him out at the knees and sent his dominant urges roaring to the forefront.
“Motherfucker,” he growled, overtaking Violet in three long strides, his fist already bunched and raised to knock the prick on his ass.
“No! No, Merrick!”
There was suddenly a heavy weight dangling off his bicep. Violet’s arms were wrapped around the thick muscle, attempting to stop him swinging. He shook her off, determined to reduce the naked bastard into a broken heap of pain and blood, but a terrified whimper snapped his bloodlust.
Fuck.
“If you’re Blake, I’ll deal with you in a minute,” he snarled at the guest, pleased when the pissant took a hasty step back. Turning to Tamsyn, he crouched low, going down on one knee. “Bad night, little owl?”
She lifted her head slowly. He didn’t need the soft light to see how pale she was; she damn near glowed in the dark, thanks to the lack of blood in her face. Those eyes… those goddamn eyes, his ruination, were huge and distraught.
When they met his, her breath exploded on a long, hard wail.
She crawled to him, naked and trembling. The distance between them was short, but it took her forever to reach him, to rise up on her knees and throw herself into the arms he held out for her. She buried herself against him, her hand clutching at his shirt and the muscles beneath as though she couldn’t believe he was real.
“All right, darlin’,” he crooned gently, even as he ordered himself to sound strict and displeased. In order to do that, he needed to not have a heart, and unfortunately, his was too enamored with her to take heed. “Where the hell were you running to, little owl?”
She hiccupped sadly, patting his chest as she kept rocking herself for comfort.
That message was clear enough— to you .
Christ, why did he get the feeling there was a whole saga lurking behind this clusterfuck? She was terrified yet again, but it wasn’t because of his potential wrath for breaking the rules he’d explicitly set out for her safety. Whatever spooked her, it went deep, where he couldn’t reach until she found her voice.
“Violet, I need a blanket.”
“I’ve got her robe.” Ericka approached from his left, the garment draped over her arm. She spread it wide, laying it over Tamsyn’s back as his little owl cringed and hid her face against his neck. “Linnie’s on standby in case you want her checked over.”
“No, I’ll do it myself.” Of course, that meant prying her off him so he could get her into the robe, and out of the chaos in here. “Darlin’, I need you to let go, just for a minute. I ain’t going anywhere. Need to get you wrapped up again.”
“Oh shit,” Blake muttered. “Tell me that’s not Master Merrick’s sub.”
Easing Tamsyn’s grip off his shirt, Merrick managed to work the robe over her cast with a little help from Violet. Once she was bundled up and he tied the belt around her waist, he lifted her onto her feet, scowling when she immediately tried to take the weight off her soles. “Did you come out of the house in bare feet, little owl?”
Tamsyn nodded miserably.
Yeah, she hadn’t been in her right mind when she left the house, he thought. After the last few painful days of treating her feet for blisters, she wouldn’t mutilate them again so soon for no reason.
Standing, Merrick hefted her onto his hip, then crooked a finger at the guy desperately trying to avoid his gaze. “You. Come with me. I think we need to have a little chat, don’t you?”
Without waiting for an answer, Merrick retraced his steps back to the anteroom, feeling steadier with Tamsyn in his arms. He’d get to the bottom of what happened, then take her home, back where she was safe.
Violet kept pace with him the entire way. “Try and be nice, Merrick. Blake’s a good Dom, he’s one of the first members who signed up when Serenity opened. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize his contract.”
He just grunted in response. “I need you to message Evander—Evander, not Elias—and tell him there’s been a breach. Gonna need the paperwork delivered to the cabin by morning.”
“You’re thinking about paperwork now?”
“If I don’t, they will.”
He pushed into the anteroom, not missing Ford’s quiet breath of relief when he saw no blood or missing teeth. That relief died when Merrick gently transferred Tamsyn into his care, then turned to bare his teeth as Blake stepped into the anteroom, closing the door behind him.
Merrick’s assessment was brief—five-ten, brown hair cut in a businessman style, eyes several shades lighter than his hair. Clean shaven… everywhere. Lightly muscled, probably visited a gym once a week as a token gesture. No visible scars or tattoos. Average sized dick that had likely been inside numerous women tonight.
Blake lifted his hands in surrender. “Look, Master Merrick, I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was yours. She came in and I just thought she was new to the scene. Not everyone’s been to an orgy before, right? I explained what was going on and she never said she didn’t want to join in.”
The man’s nervous chatter was annoying, but at least he was divulging one side of the story without any pushing; Merrick was saving his mean tactics for when he needed the dirty details. Not that he wanted to know how the bastard had fucked Tamsyn, but if any trauma rose from tonight, he wanted to be able to deal with it.
“I didn’t pressure her, I swear. I was holding her hand, and I led her into the middle. There was no resistance, she wasn’t fighting to get away. Even when she was under me, she wasn’t acting like she didn’t want to be there.”
Merrick’s fists clenched so hard, the knuckles cracked.
This was going to be the end of him, listening to how a goddamn stranger defiled—
“Then she just started making this weird noise. She was aroused—she was wet, her hips were lifting for my dick, man, but that noise…” Blake visibly shuddered, like the sound was going to haunt him. “Fuck, it was like nails on a chalkboard. Like she was in pain, y’know, but pain from in here ,” he said in a low, hollow voice as he slapped his fist against his hairless chest. “I’ve never heard anything like it; never want to hear it again, to be honest.”
Tamsyn whimpered and tried to push away from Fordham.
“So you’re telling me,” Merrick rumbled in an ominous, distinctly possessive tone, “that you didn’t stick that limp dick in my girl?” As soon as he said the words, he kicked himself. Violet was gonna rip him a new one. “You swearing on your life you didn’t fuck her?”
“I’ll swear on any damn thing you want me to,” Blade replied earnestly.
Narrowing his eyes, Merrick growled under his breath as he took several factors into consideration. The guy looked like he wanted to shit his non-existent pants, but it wasn’t out of guilt—the growl might be responsible for that. His body language was reading as fear, not deception.
“Bet you will,” he muttered, then let go of some of his anger when Violet gave him the evil eye. “Tamsyn, is this guy telling the truth?”
Still squirming manically in Fordham’s arms, she nodded fervently.
Damn it. He’d really yearned for a reason to flatten Blake and work off some tension, but there wasn’t any fun in smacking around a man who hadn’t earned it.
Relaxing his jaw, Merrick sighed and jerked his chin toward the door. “Dodged a bullet, Blake. A damn big bullet.”
Blake looked him up and down warily. “Yes sir, I get that feeling.”
Refusing to let his lips twitch, Merrick jerked his head again. “Go enjoy the rest of your evening.” He waited until the guy was halfway through the door before adding, “Blake? Thank you for taking care of her. A lot of guys wouldn’t have stopped, especially when she didn’t use a safeword.”
Now Blake’s eyes flicked over to Tamsyn, sympathy scribed over his features. “Yeah, she did. In her own way.”
The door slapped shut, cutting off the piercing scream of some lucky individual coming on a cock or two.
Wouldn’t it be nice just to strip off his uniform and join in the fray?
Fuck his way through a dozen willing women until his cock finally stopped throbbing?
Violet laid her hand on his arm. “That was good of you. Even though you weren’t exactly complimentary about his dick.”
Merrick snorted. “It was a dick, Vi. Standard, run of the mill penis, perfectly average.”
“Yes, well, not everyone is hung like a horse and adept in how to use it,” she said dryly.
He flashed her a grin that held zero modesty before turning and reaching his arms toward Fordham. “Pass her over, brother, before she accidentally kicks you in the balls.”
“For one so small, she’s feisty,” Ford groused, handing her over without hesitation.
As though she hadn’t seen Merrick in a week, Tamsyn roped her arms awkwardly around his neck and clung. She wasn’t trembling quite as hard now, but her face was waxy with shock, her breathing shaky.
“Ford, mind covering the rest of my shift? She needs to go home.”
“Felicity has it under control.”
“I’ll walk back with you,” Violet told him, straightening her shoulders when he lifted his eyebrows. “It’s not that I don’t trust your temper, Merrick, but she went through something tonight that only another woman can truly understand. I’m coming for Tamsyn, not you.”
Well, when she put it that way, he really didn’t have room to argue, did he? Because she was right—something caused Tamsyn to keen badly enough to scare what seemed like an experienced Dom. Whether it was being under Blake, the situation, the imminent threat of penetration… there were too many variables to consider.
“What about your shift?” he asked.
She just smiled, although there wasn’t much humor in it. “I finished at midnight. I was about to head home when Tamsyn walked in, although I didn’t recognize her until it was too late.” She frowned at Ford. “Remind me to speak to Elias about the lighting situation if he decides to approve a regular orgy night. It might be atmospheric, but it’s far too dark.”
“He’s planning a meeting tomorrow afternoon with all the DMs on duty to discuss the evening. I think he’s talking to some of the participants in the morning, trying to get overall opinions on whether it’s a viable event going forward.”
“Good. I have a few other points to put to him as well.” This time, her smile was full and a little wicked. Stepping to the door leading outside, she opened it wide. “Come on, Master Merrick. Now you’ve terrified the guests, your work here is done.”
“Smartass,” he growled.
Outside, it was colder than he thought. A bitter wind was kicking up, starting to blow through the surrounding trees, and he thought he smelled snow in the air. “I ought to spank your ass raw, darlin’, for coming over here with nothing on but this damn robe.”
“I’m sure she has a reasonable explanation.” Violet came up beside him and set a quick pace toward the residential cabins. “I had several panicky moments myself when I first moved in. It’s really quite eerie at night. The wind, animals, even the damn trees seem to talk.”
Merrick laughed. “Talking trees? Seriously?”
To his surprise, Tamsyn nodded in agreement. She was still clinging to him, her breath warm against his throat, but her muscles were starting to relax.
“They creak and groan,” Violet stated adamantly. “They talk, Merrick.”
“I’ll believe it when I hear it.”
They were almost to the cabin porch when a scream shattered the brittle air. It wasn’t close; in fact, it sounded like it came from further up in the forest, and he rolled his eyes in disgust at the same time Tamsyn went rigid.
From relaxed to stone in a heartbeat, she reared back, slamming her good hand on his chest and shoving away, her face a mask of pure, unadulterated terror. She almost managed to knock him on his ass before he got her pinned back against his chest.
He felt her heart hammering against his.
He felt the fear devouring her.
“Easy. Easy, little owl. It’s just some idiots playing chase in the forest.” Tightening his arms around her as another scream followed swiftly on the heels of the first, Merrick took the last few feet to the cabin at a run, both displeased and grateful to see the front door wide open.
Of course, the whole fucking place was freezing.
Carrying her straight to the bedroom, he heard Violet shut the door. The fire was dead in the hearth; the covers on the bed were thrown back and the lamp was still on. So was the TV, he noted, when he tuned into the quiet hum of voices.
“There’s vomit in the hallway,” Violet murmured from the doorway.
“What?”
“Near the wall. She was sick before she left the house.”
Merrick sat Tamsyn on the edge of the bed, then practically threw himself on top of her when another scream penetrated the walls of her sanctuary. The sound was obviously a trigger; her reactions weren’t staged, there was no thought behind them. She was relying on memories and instincts to escape whatever trauma was linked to screaming.
Digging into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and speed dialed the security office. Turning it on to speaker mode so he had both his hands free, he listened to it ring impatiently.
“Club security. Oslo here.”
Fuck, he didn’t need an underling. “Get me Grit. Now.”
“Grit’s off-duty tonight. I can help.”
Yeah, he wasn’t illuminating Merrick with confidence. From his tone of voice, Oslo was bored stupid, not watching the fucking cameras to make sure guests were undisturbed by other irresponsible guests trying to die in the cold, and probably indulging in some porn to pass the nightshift.
Merrick ended the call and went straight to the source.
Grit answered his cell after several long rings. “Fucker, it’s nearly one a.m. and it’s my night off.” Breath slightly labored, he added, “What the hell do you want, Merrick?”
“We have a problem.”
“Call the office. I have a team for problems.”
“I’ve had the displeasure. Oslo doesn’t seem like the real switched-on type, Grit.”
There was a pause. “He’s new to the team.”
“I think you’re paying him to jack off,” Merrick said bluntly. “How many calls have you had about screaming within the club boundaries?”
“Well, seeing as it’s my night off , I wouldn’t know that. It’s a sex club, big guy. There’s usually one sub or another with a pair of lungs on her, threatening to shatter a window.”
When Tamsyn stiffened again, Merrick slid his hand under her neck and squeezed gently. Barely any of his weight was on her, he was just using his body as a cage to stop her bolting again. “There are at least three male guests running around half-dressed, chasing subs dressed as prey. I’ve only seen one woman, but I’d guess there are more. It’s too fucking cold for them to be doing hunt and capture scenes outside, Grit, which puts Evander and Eli’s ass in the sling if anything happens. Not to mention, they’re disturbing other residents.” He wiped away a tear clinging to her lashes when she realized she couldn’t get away. “ My resident, if you get my meaning. Apparently she has triggers.”
There was a lot of cursing. Grit’s phone took a tumble if the clattering was any indication, then a sweet, slightly insane female voice replaced the grumpy Master. “You know how to spoil a girl’s good time, Merrick, do you know that? We were heading for a record.”
Merrick chuckled. “Hey, Tabitha. Please don’t tell me what record.”
“I should, because you made us lose our streak.” Grit’s fiancée was indeed on the insane side, along with several other traits that made her incredibly dangerous when she was in the wrong mood. “At your behest, my lover is leaving our nice, warm bed and getting dressed. I should punish you for that.”
“Don’t threaten the other Masters, little tiger,” Grit admonished her from a distance.
“Why not?”
“Because that particular Master can punish you in ways I only dream about. Be polite, or I’ll let him have you for an hour.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she hissed.
“Try me.” Grit’s voice was clearer, louder now. “Merrick, I’m heading to the office now. I’ll dispatch a team on the way over and get them to round the yahoos up. Can you confirm four individuals—three male, one female?”
“That I’m aware of.”
“Okay. Leave it with me.” The line went dead.
Merrick met Tamsyn’s jittery eyes and stared into them until they focused on him. Only him. “Were you listening, little owl? The screaming is going to stop. It’ll take a few minutes until security finds and escorts them inside, so we’re going to suffer just a little longer. No one’s being hurt and, more importantly, no one is hurting you .”
Something flickered in the tawny brown.
“Is that what sent you running earlier?” He frowned down at her, thinking. If she’d ended up at the orgy around midnight… “You were asleep, and the screaming woke you up so you tried to find me?” Piecing it all together was an unpleasant business. “You got sick in the hallway, bolted across the grounds until you reached the big cabin, and got your pretty ass dragged into an orgy.”
Miserably, she nodded.
“Why didn’t you call?” He scanned the bed, then the bedside table, but there was no phone. “I’d have come straight back.”
She lifted her shaking hand and began waving it around haphazardly. It took some effort, but he figured out she’d tried to pick it up and… knocked it off the table? The phone hit the carpet and disappeared under the bed, where she couldn’t retrieve it because the base was too low to the floor.
Merrick lifted his head when Violet set a cup on the table, the contents gently steaming. She gave him a nod, then moved over to the hearth to get the fire going again. “If I sit up, you gonna freak out again, darlin’?”
Her arm shot up and hooked around his neck, pulling him closer. He settled his weight more firmly on top of her, knowing it was the wrong move, but by God, even with the robe between them, she fit him perfectly. He might be taller, his limbs longer, but the core of them was an undeniable match.
Trapped in his jeans, tortured by the orgy, his cock responded eagerly, thickening and lengthening swiftly. He didn’t have a standard, run of the mill, perfectly average penis, that was for sure.
Fascinated by the way her fear leeched from her eyes, softening with something more palatable to his soul, he brushed his lips over her cheek, tasting another tear. If he were a fanciful man, he’d say he could taste her terror, her apprehension, her relief in that salty drop, but emotions weren’t transferable through taste, were they?
“Merrick,” Violet said softly, a hard edge in her tone. “Not tonight.”
The Mistress was right to pull him up, he thought, but as his cock tried to punch through his zipper, he didn’t appreciate her interference. He wanted those soft, plump lips under his; he needed to kiss that silent mouth and feel Tamsyn’s groans reverberate inside him.
He was fucking obsessed.
Whether to annoy Violet or test his own control, he skimmed his lips over Tamsyn’s, grumbling happily under his breath when she opened for him, her hesitation warring with eagerness. Running his tongue over her lower lip, he took the firm flesh between his teeth and dragged it free.
Arousal flared in her eyes, her hips lifting to press against his erection.
It would take him seconds to reach between them, yank his zipper down, and release his cock. Seconds . That was all that stood between ejaculating in his jeans and filling her up with more cum than she could handle.
Fuck, he was a bad, bad man.
Trying to tone down his aggressiveness, Merrick claimed her mouth in a long, slow kiss before he pushed away from her. Standing, he adjusted his dick before he injured himself, noting how Tamsyn’s eyes followed the movement of his hand.
She didn’t move, sprawled on the bed with one side of the robe shucked up her thigh. Eyes dilated, breath panting, she was a goddess waiting to be plundered, the ultimate picture of tempting, wanton woman.
Evidently, his legendary self-control meant fuck all when she was in the vicinity.
Her lips curved in a dreamy, tremulous smile as she held up an index finger.
Merrick cocked his head. “First kiss?”
When she nodded, he felt his chest puff out slightly, as if some primal part of him was proud to take one of her firsts. What the hell would it feel like if he gave in to his base instincts and claimed her sweet, innocent pussy? Her tiny, untouched asshole?
King of the motherfucking world .
Shaking off the urge to touch her again, he walked over to the dresser to give himself a few seconds to get his lust under control, pulling out a clean T-shirt. Several deep breaths and a stern lecture later, he returned to her with a smile and his control back in place.
“Sit up, darlin’. Little owls who have their first kiss deserve sweet dreams.”
Awkwardly, she used her good hand to ease herself up, swallowing hard as he unbelted the robe and removed it off her shoulders. He took one long, delicious second to drink her in before he maneuvered her cast through an arm hole and tugged it over her head, letting her work her good arm through the other side.
“Before you go gallivanting around in the cold next time, if you look in that closet over there,” he pointed to a door in the corner, “it’s full of clothes that should fit you. Footwear, too. Violet bought what she thought would suit you, and she’s got a good eye.”
“Why, thank you, kind sir,” the woman in question purred from the doorway. “Have you finished your display of staking possession on the poor girl yet? Peeing around the bed might be just as effective.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
“What happened to ‘ I’m not the right man’ ? Women talk,” Vi pointed out when he glowered at her. “Linnie’s a friend. Don’t worry, your passionate decree to stay away from Tamsyn hasn’t gone any further than me. I’d hate you to look like a love-whipped jackass and choke on your retraction when you do the unthinkable.”
Merrick ground his teeth lightly. “A man’s entitled to change his mind.”
“He’s entitled to fall in love,” she correctly quietly. “Especially when it’s returned.”
A small tug on his hand drew his attention down to his tawny-eyed, exhausted girl. She beamed at him even though she could barely keep her eyes open; she’d pushed well beyond her limits tonight, depleted vital energy supplies, and run the gamut of emotions.
“Get into bed, little owl. Those sweet dreams are waiting, darlin’.”
Violet cleared her throat. “Drink the tea, Tamsyn. It’s herbal, it will help you sleep.”
She really wasn’t going to need any help in that respect, Merrick thought as she dutifully settled under the covers and reached for the cup. He could already see her busy brain switching off, barely running on autopilot as she took a careful sip.
When the cup tipped, coming precariously close to spilling said tea over the covers, he stepped in to rescue it, setting it back on the table before tucking the owl stuffie under her arm and pulling the duvet up to her chin.
He thought he’d gotten away with stroking his fingertips down her cheek, but Violet’s grin when he turned around told him otherwise. Before the Mistress could let loose with mischief in her eyes, he jabbed a finger at her.
“Not a damn word, Vi. Not one damn word.”
Her laugh was statement enough, damn her.
*