Chapter Six #3
Sierra did as her Daddy told her, hurrying back to his side after one last squeeze. “We missed you.”
Violet cleared her throat. “I know, sweetheart. I missed you too.”
“Did you miss me?” Callie peered up at her, heart in her eyes.
“How could I not?” She pressed a kiss to Callie’s hair. “Did you save a seat for me?”
The Little’s head bobbed against Violet’s breast in affirmation before she pulled back and grabbed her hand. “The most special one, between Daddy Vander and Master Grit.”
Oh, fun. She let herself be towed to the special seat, sitting regally and trying to answer the questions rapidly fired in her direction. Merrick joined them, cuddling Tamsyn close.
“So, who’s the new boy on the block?” Ericka flicked her fingers toward the bar. “The gossip mill has been running on overtime. The hunk walks in and you disappear for a week with him. A little workplace romance?”
“The gossip mill must be running low on worthwhile rumors.”
“Oh, come on, Vi. Don’t tell me you’ve got him under your roof and haven’t taken him for a ride. Hell, in your shoes…” Ericka’s tongue flicked over her bottom lip before her teeth scraped over it. Her eyes were sharp, focused, hungry as they raked over Reaux. “He wouldn’t leave my bed for a month.”
More amused than jealous, Violet shrugged. “You and I have different priorities, Ericka. If you want to take a shot at him, please, by all means do so. In fact, you’ll be doing me a favor by keeping him out of my hair.”
Ericka mulled it over, then exchanged a glance with Felicity. “Shall we?”
“We shall.” Felicity grinned and rose, smoothing down her dress with her eyes already on the sexy prize across the room. “Single approach or go for the united?”
“United as always.”
There, Violet thought as she watched the two Mistresses cross the room. That should keep the insufferable prick busy for a while. Ericka was a bloodhound when it came to single men, Felicity was a wolf, and between the pair of them, there was rarely a man who could or would turn them down.
“Forget something?” Evander asked, drawing her attention to him.
“Can’t think of anything,” she replied sweetly, her stomach roiling as Sierra pushed a glass of wine down the table to her—her usual, her favorite, and she couldn’t even look at it. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
“How about neglecting to tell those two that your sub is actually one of the most revered Masters in Louisiana?” Grit spoke up, his voice disapproving.
So, he’d finally caught up with Boudreaux’s ruse.
She felt bad for him, but whatever ploys Reaux used to get into Serenity without her finding out about his presence were nothing to do with her.
She’d played no part in the fabrication, her fingerprints were nowhere on the plans or execution, so she wasn’t going to accept any of the blame.
“Not in my world, he’s not. They’re all adults, Grit, capable of reading situations and playing nice with each other. Boudreaux’s got the balls to tell them no, or a working dick if he wants to take them up on whatever offer they present. I don’t really care what he chooses to do.”
“From what I’ve heard, he runs a successful chain of clubs down south,” Mack commented, glancing over at his husband as Liam returned to the table with a pitcher of water and a glass. “Seems like an okay guy. Definitely a Dom, although Ford was impressed with the scene you did with him last week.”
Violet sent her friend a baleful stare. “Was he now.”
Fordham shrugged and sipped his scotch without a care in the world.
“I like the guy, Vi. For a Dom in submissive shoes, he took everything you gave him in that scene without complaint. He’s secure enough in himself to submit to you despite the fact he probably bleeds dominance.
Of course,” he paused to take another sip, then hit her with a sneaky blow, “it doesn’t hurt that he’s utterly in love with you. ”
“God, not you as well.” She rolled her eyes. “Boudreaux doesn’t love me, he doesn’t love anybody but the one in his bed. Trust me, it won’t take long before he gets bored of the hunt and drags his sorry ass back to New Orleans where he can chase tail he actually stands a chance of catching.”
“I don’t think tail in general is what your guy is chasing, Violet,” Grit said thoughtfully.
“Just one in particular,” Mack agreed with a nod.
“Seems to me,” Merrick drawled, jerking his chin toward the bar, “any man who can turn those two down is either gay or has a name already tattooed on his heart.”
An image of those ridiculous violets inked into Reaux’s chest flashed through her mind before she forced herself to look over at the idiot under discussion.
He’d stepped a short distance away from Elias and Levi, she noted, to speak with Ericka and Felicity. Unsurprisingly, Ericka was already going in for the kill with her blatant flirtatious tactics; she stood close to him, her hand on his arm, her eyes direct on his.
Reaux appeared to be listening intently, his head cocked curiously, but his body language... he wasn’t engaging with Ericka. More than that, he was actively distancing himself from her without being rude, deliberately holding himself apart.
Violet frowned.
What the hell was he doing? He should be fawning over Ericka by now, throwing Felicity a little attention, doing some flirtation of his own to convince them both to have a good fucking time because that was his best goddamn skill.
Her eyebrows winged up when he grasped Ericka’s wrist gently and removed it from his arm. Whatever he said to her didn’t deter her from a second touch, a short stroke along the firm muscle of his forearm.
This time, the removal was swift and meaningful. Even as he detached her hand again, Violet saw his body language evolving, shifting from laidback and amenable into his no bullshit persona. He stood taller, straighter, his shoulders squaring as he turned to face the two Mistresses fully.
Expression dark, features set in stern lines, he spoke again, and Violet could hear his voice in her head—that hard, cool tone he used when he was most displeased.
Felicity said something back, lifting her hands in surrender.
Boudreaux’s head swung round to stare at Violet with a mixture of frustration and amusement clearly visible from where she sat, then he smiled and leaned in to speak to Felicity. When he was done, his attention returned to Elias and Levi.
“Think you’ll find that man’s on a mission, Vi,” Merrick said gruffly as the Mistresses headed back toward the tables. “He ain’t going nowhere until he gets what he came for.”
“I’m not a lost pet being claimed from the pound because my owner forgot to put a collar on me, Merrick,” she snapped, almost forgetting herself as she lifted the wineglass.
It was halfway to her lips when the smell hit her, making her recoil, and she set it down again with an angry clack of glass on wood.
“If anything, I was the pet dumped at the fucking pound because I couldn’t weigh up to the prospect of a new puppy. ”
A chorus of, “He cheated on you?” echoed around the tables.
Begrudgingly, she admitted, “No. Not that I’m aware of anyway. Boudreaux did what was right for him at the time. I just didn’t fit into his plans.”
“What a wanker,” Callie muttered, in a disturbingly accurate mimicry of Elias.
Evander pinched the bridge of his nose. “Language, Callie. There are penalties for swearing when you’re Little, you know that.”
Puffing up like an indignant blowfish, Callie shed her Little as easily as sneezing. “Pardon my French, Evander, but fuck that. These are extenuating circumstances. Did you let him come here knowing he was a gigantic asshole?”
“All men are assholes, Callie. They just vary in degrees of arrogance.” This from Tabitha. Shockingly pale blue eyes bore into Violet without a hint of warmth. “One word, Mistress Vi, and I can make him rue the day he screwed you over.”
Grit clamped his hand over her mouth. “No. There will be no words, little tiger, and definitely no maiming of any kind.”
A shadow fell over Violet, and she looked up at Felicity as the woman cocked her hip, folding her arms over her chest. “No luck?”
“That sub is not a sub.”
“Sure he is. Slap a pair of handcuffs on him, tickle his balls, and he’ll be putty in your hands.”
“He’s a damn Dom, Vi,” Ericka butted in.
“Technically, at this point he probably qualifies as a Switch.”
Felicity shook her head, lips twitching. “We should be pissed you set us up, but having gained a better understanding of the situation, it’s hard to be angry. He asked me to give you a message.”
A coil of dread tightened in her belly, but she kept her cool. “I’m sure he can deliver it himself.”
Ignoring her, Felicity smiled, adding a smug edge to it. “If he’s chasing you, Violet, can I offer a word of advice? Stop running. For one, that guy is a serious hunk of southern comfort. They—men—don’t get much better than that.”
“Not to mention the fact he is so hung up on you, no other woman exists for him,” Ericka chimed in.
She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Shot me down without hesitation, even with my charms at full throttle. He isn’t interested in playing the field, as a Dom or sub.
He wants you, only you, any way he can get you. ”
A scream was building in Violet’s chest, growing more violent with every person sticking their noses into her business and declaring Boudreaux’s love for her.
What the hell did they know about it—they hadn’t been there during the ten years she’d believed she was forging a relationship she honestly thought was constructed from love, trust, and friendship.
They sure as hell hadn’t been there for her when it all came crashing down and she was left picking up the fragments of her heart, soul, future.
She’d wasted ten years of her life loving him, clutching every whispered endearment to her breast and dreaming of the day he ignited their future with a proposal. Instead, he’d burned it to the ground by kicking her to the curb.