Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Gin was late. Very late. Atticus leaned against a tree, arms crossed on his chest, watching the kinksters prepare for the evening.
Far down a dirt road behind their lodge, the Hunts had a wide clearing set up for BDSM activities.
Split logs formed a St. Andrew’s cross. Several actual sawhorses—although modified—created spanking benches.
A tipped-over wine barrel with iron bolts welded to the rim was perfect for bending a subbie over the staves and restraining her there.
Chains dangled from tree branches. Ropes wrapped around tree trunks could be used to spread-eagle a submissive.
The night sky was beautifully clear, the waning moon not yet visible.
More people arrived. Still no Gin. With each late-arriving car, he’d expected to see her emerge. How long could it take to dress for the evening? Or had Sunny driven them into a ditch or something?
Uneasiness curled in his gut. He might paddle Gin’s cute little ass when she got there for making him worry. Making him wait. After all, it’d been six days since he’d had her in his arms. Even longer since they’d made love.
He looked up at the approach of two people. “Hey, deVries. Good to see you and Lindsey here.”
“Ware.” DeVries was muscular, iron-jawed, and always looked a bit battered. He had both the buzz-cut hair and the arrogance of a Marine drill sergeant.
Made Atticus all nostalgic. As he clasped hands with deVries, Atticus smiled down at deVries’ submissive, Lindsey.
Average height and weight. Big brown eyes.
Her curly brown hair with colorful red and purple streaks was indicative of her vibrant personality.
“How’re you doing, pet? Did you get your business settled down south? ”
She grinned. “There are a lot of bad guys now stewing in Texas prisons. Life is good.”
Excellent. He might not enjoy Gin’s girly flicks, but damned if he didn’t like a happy ending. The two here had gone through a lot to get theirs.
Speaking of happy endings, once the pleasantries here were done, Atticus was going after his own. If Gin was still trying to figure out what fetwear to put on, he’d haul her ass back up here naked. After he tumbled her in bed first.
They might not make it back here.
Damn, he missed her.
“Always figured the mountains were a quiet place,” deVries commented. “Not yours, it seems. You okay?”
“Almost back to normal.”
Lindsey smiled at him. “The last time I saw you, you had a goatee. I like the beard better.”
“This takes less work.” And was softer on his little submissive’s inner thighs. Atticus jerked his chin toward a slender young man in a showy black and gold chain harness with matching thong. “I see you brought your whipping boy. You planning to beat on him tonight?”
DeVries glanced over. “We had some fun last night. Stan came late, so I got Dixon all warmed up and ready to welcome him to the mountains.”
DeVries and Dixon were into S their partners weren’t.
So the sadist would give Dixon the pain he needed and return him to Stan.
Dixon’s partner said he got the best part of the deal with his submissive aroused and ready to fuck.
After watching deVries work on Dixon, Lindsey was usually aroused as well…
which deVries enjoyed. Apparently, their odd arrangement worked.
“Dixon and Stan are still together?” Which was undoubtedly why the collar around Dixon’s neck was a no-nonsense black leather—Stanfeld’s style.
“They’re so cute.” Lindsey gave a reminiscent sigh. “Dixon cried when Stan collared him.” Her fingers touched her neck before her hand dropped…and her expression said it all. DeVries’ submissive wanted a collar too.
Atticus regarded her. He looked forward to when Gin would show the same longing. She already wanted him. Wanted his command. Eventually, she’d trust him enough to give him…everything.
Before he went to get her, he might as well have some fun with this couple here. DeVries was such a hard-ass, he was a pleasure to torment. So he turned his gaze to Lindsey.
“You look a little naked there, Tex.” Chancing his luck—considering his ribs and shoulder were still on the tender side—Atticus stepped between Lindsey and deVries. He took her hands and held them up, looking at her arms. “Naked wrists too.”
DeVries growled from behind him.
Ah well, he hadn’t done anything foolhardy in a week now. “I could fix that problem for you. Even if it’s only for an evening, I like collaring and cuffing a sub. Keeps other Doms from getting too forward.” Like he was being right now.
When Lindsey gave him a nervous look, he winked.
She blinked and—smart cookie—dropped her head to hide the laughter in her eyes. “Um…”
“Hands off, asshole.” DeVries shoved him away from Lindsey and raised his voice. “Simon, you got a spare set of cuffs in your bag? And a collar?”
“Really?” Lindsey sounded breathless. “A collar too?”
“Babe, you’ve worn a play collar at Dark Haven.” DeVries ran his fingers through her hair.
Lindsey’s face fell. “But the staff collar is only to show Xavier is looking out for me, not that I…”
Belong to someone. Atticus could hear what she didn’t say. From the dawning comprehension in his face, so could deVries.
Well, my work here is done—although it had become more intense than he’d intended. Silently, Atticus retreated as Simon strolled across the clearing with a set of leather cuffs and collar.
Lindsey went to her knees without being asked.
When deVries buckled on the collar—the tangible signs of his ownership—tears of happiness filled her eyes.
Terse as always, deVries didn’t give her any long speeches. “Mine. You’re mine.” He pulled her to her feet, wrapped her close, and took her mouth. “Fuck, I love you.”
Her arms went around his neck. “I love you.”
What wouldn’t Atticus give to hear the words from Gin? He headed for his pickup.
Halfway across the clearing, a pretty female detached from a group of Doms and submissives. She stopped a few feet from him and politely waited for him to acknowledge her.
“Was there something you wanted?” Atticus strove for politeness, even if his voice came out a growl.
“Yes, Sir.” She arched her back, drawing attention to her breasts. “I-I was wondering if you plan to do suspension today, and maybe you need a rope bunny? I’m…I’d love…”
Love. That fucking word.
Well, honestly, leave a Dominant for a few days and look what happened. Gin put her hand over her stomach to silence the butterflies. A minute or so ago, the sight of Atticus taking the hands of a lovely streaky-haired submissive had brought Gin to a complete halt.
But he hadn’t done anything other than hold her arms up in the air. When another Dom had given Atticus a territorial scowl and quickly put cuffs and collar on her, Gin knew Atticus had been jerking the Dom’s chain.
The man had an evil sense of humor.
Only now, he was being opportuned by a beautiful young woman. And from the way she presented herself, her offer included…everything.
Gin slapped the coil of his heavy hemp rope against her thigh. She was letting last-minute qualms overwhelm her. He’d risked his life for her. He’d even admitted to Wyatt he’d nearly puked on the climb up the boulder. He loved her—she’d heard him.
She was the wimp who hadn’t said it to him. She huffed a laugh. Why was opening her heart so much more difficult than facing down death?
With a mental hitching up of her big girl panties—or should she say big girl thong?—she walked across the clearing.
Kallie and Becca noticed and started toward her.
She waved them off, but their concern touched her. Friends. She had friends. Her grip tightened on the rope. Now she had to lasso herself a man. Or, rather, let him do it.
Her steps faltered. The other submissive was truly lovely.
Gin stiffened her spine. No second thoughts.
And no fighting. Knocking the young woman on her perky little ass would be ill mannered, so Gin fell back on her mama’s lessons. She stopped beside Atticus, facing the young woman, and gave her a smile. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry. Bless your heart, but this Dom is taken.”
A raspy laugh came from beside her.
The woman straightened. “So he told me. Excuse me, please.”
Gin managed to close her mouth.
With a slight bow to Atticus, the submissive returned to her friends, leaving Gin to face the Dom she’d claimed.
Atticus turned. Raised an eyebrow.
Uh-oh. Submissives weren’t supposed to interrupt conversations.
Hopefully that Xavier person wasn’t here today.
She didn’t bother to look. Instead, Gin filled her gaze with all that was her man.
A bruise still darkened his left cheekbone; bandages covered the ends of two fingers.
He was moving slower and without his usual dangerous smoothness.
Because he’d hurt himself saving her life.
He wasn’t dressed in fancy fetwear like some of the Doms, but wore only a pair of jeans, boots, and a black T-shirt.
She’d never wanted anyone so much in her whole life. “Atticus.”
Not knowing how to tell him what was in her heart, she handed him the ropes used for suspension. Did the offering tell him enough?
When he studied her without speaking, her hopes sank. “I—”
“Am I?”
“Are you what?”
“Taken?” His thumb and fingers closed on her chin to angle her face toward the moonlight.
This was her chance to tell him how she felt. “You… I—” The words choked in her throat; the planet halted its spinning.
His almost inaudible sigh of disappointment broke her heart. She grabbed his hand and flattened his palm between her breasts. Her heart was pounding madly. “You—you are taken.” Sucking in a breath helped. She tried another.
“Gin.” When she saw the warmth and pleasure in his gaze, the earth started turning again. “Good. Good girl.”
After gathering her senses, she realized his tone held a wealth of satisfaction. Almost too much. Well.