Chapter 2 #2
“If I was controlling you like that, you’d know,” I say. “I’m just setting the stage for our scene. Can you obey me that much, bold girl?”
She tugs her panties from between her thighs and holds out the scrap of satin. “Yes, sir.”
Such a beautiful sound, that word from her lips. I’ve heard it for thirty years in different contexts, but it never sounds as good as when a submissive whispers it as she cedes control to me.
“Good girl.” I hold out my hand and she places the skin-warm fabric on my palm. I tuck her panties into my back pocket while she pulls her pants back up. I’m not doing anything as crude as sniffing them in front of her. For now, this is enough.
I dip and kiss the tip of her nose. She’s on the taller side for a woman, five-eight or so.
A head shorter than me. Not so short that I’ll have to break my back to kiss her while I’m inside her, which can’t be soon enough.
It’s going to take all my control to keep from fucking her during our first scene.
I’ve promised myself I won’t, though. I’ve never been interested in a quick bang and even if I was this sad, sad girl isn’t that.
I want her to know it right from the off.
But, fuck, that’s going to be a hard promise to keep.
She lifts her face. Licks that full lower lip. She wants a kiss. I want to give it to her. I really want to give it to her. My whole body tightens with how much I want to feel that soft mouth against mine. Taste the cinnamon I can smell on her breath.
But it will be better, sweeter, if I make her wait.
“Tomorrow,” I tell her. “Don’t be late to lunch. No kisses for late submissives.”
She swallows hard and takes a step back. “Kisses are overrated.”
“Not my kisses,” I promise her, pulling my sweater back on. “See you tomorrow, bold girl.”
I force myself to leave her, hungry and wanting.
I have a standing invitation at Logan’s.
And at Max’s. And at Manny’s. These three men who served under me, who looked to me to lead them and make the right decisions.
Three very different men, with very different strengths and weaknesses, who ended up in the same place after leaving my command, working together as a team again.
Only this time, Logan’s leading them instead of me.
Logan thinks he’s not worthy; I can’t think of a better man.
I know he’s going to invite me to join them, and as I sit across from him in his home-office, warm with wood paneling and a fire crackling in the fireplace, he doesn’t disappoint.
He slides a folder across the desk to me.
I flip it open and read through the proposal.
It’s generous, because Logan’s a generous man, and detailed, which tells me Max had a hand in it, because Max does detail like no one else.
I close the cover and rest my palm on top of it.
The cardboard’s not as smooth as Brenna’s skin.
“You don’t owe me anything, Lo,” I say gently.
“You’re wrong about that, sir.”
“Time you started calling me Mac.”
“No, sir.”
I shake my head at him. I appreciate the respect, but I’m having a hard-enough time becoming a civilian without him reminding me of my rank. “I’m not your C.O. anymore. I’m your friend. I appreciate the offer. But I’m not ready.”
“There’s no expiration date on it.”
“Thank you. I can’t think of three finer men to work beside. I mean that.”
“If you’re ever ready, it’s there. Until then, tell me another way I can see you every day.”
I chuckle. “You’d be sick of me within a week.”
“I never was in seven years. Not even on the days you were kicking my ass.” He takes a deep breath and puts his hands flat on the desk. That’s one of Logan’s tells. He always braces himself against something, before he reveals what’s in his heart. “Missed you every day since, sir.”
I could pass it off with a joke, but that would cheapen the gift he’s given me. “I missed you, too, son. I won’t be a stranger.”
“You’re all the way over in Brooklyn.”
“That’s temporary. Just the first place I found. When the lease is up, I’ll find something closer. Besides, I sleep here and at Manny’s more than I sleep in my own bed.”
Logan shakes his head. “I’m not going about this right. We’re planning on converting the attic. If we made a suite for you, would you consider moving in with us? You’d have your own space. Hell, you can pay rent if your pride demands it.”
My pride doesn’t demand anything. My heart might require a defibrillator, though.
It lurches back into rhythm after a deep breath. I did not anticipate this. I completely underestimated the depth of Logan’s feelings. That’s not a mistake I’d make with a submissive, and I’ll be kicking myself for a while for making it with this man.
“You and Emily don’t need your own space?”
“We want this to be a family home. You’re family.”
Logan’s the son and the brother I never had, but I never thought he’d want me to live with him.
“Lo.” I rub my hand over my mouth and choose my words carefully. “Let me pay half of the renovation costs and I’d be honored.”
Logan lets out a deep breath. He was afraid I’d refuse.
“Looks like there’s room for another desk in here.
” I glance around the large room. Emily has a strange contraption on the far side of the room that holds her laptop and a fancy headset, and there’s a leather couch facing the fireplace.
Other than Logan’s desk and some built-in bookcases, the office is empty.
It’s just as sparsely furnished as the rest of the house.
I can understand his desire for minimalism after living in the cramped quarters aboard ship for eight years.
I haven’t bought much furniture myself for the same reason.
“There definitely is. Not sure what you’d need a desk for, though, if you’re not joining Logan, Manny, and Max Incorporated.”
“Every man needs a desk. If for no other reason than to bend his woman over it.”
Logan chuckles.
“Speaking of which, I have a lunch date tomorrow. Anywhere you’d suggest that I can have a private conversation with my date?”
Logan lifts an eyebrow. “Brenna?”
“That’s the one.”
“Huh.”
“What? You think she’s too . . . tattooed for me?”
Logan’s mouth quirks. He knows what I’m really asking.
“Absolutely no judgment.” He holds up his hands. “I met my soul mate at a kink expo. I’m never going to criticize anyone for finding the person who floats their boat. If DirtyGurl does it for you, go for it.”
“Thank you.” I don’t need his permission, but the lack of judgment’s nice. “I will. And if I haven’t said it, I’m happy for you, Lo. Emily’s a sweetheart, and she looks at you like you’ve hung the damn moon.”
“Thanks.” His inability to hold back his shit-eating grin when he thinks of his little girl says it all. “Anyway, please have your date here.”
I figured.
“That would be great.”
“Emily will want to cook.”
I also figured that.
“Tell her I appreciate it, but just this once, I’m going to get take-out. Brenna mentioned she likes African food and it looks like there’s an Ethiopian place near here that delivers.”
Logan nods. “Try the peanut soup. It’s excellent. A little too spicy for Emmy, so we don’t order from there very often, but everything on the menu’s good. I’ll take Emily to Jersey with me tomorrow, so you have the house to yourself.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“Happy to. Besides, spending the day with my baby girl is no hardship. There’s a kink store connected to the club that carries these dragon dildos. They’re massive. I can’t wait to see the look in her eyes when I show them to her.”
I grin and shake my head at him. “You’re an evil, evil Dom.”
“You’re the first person who told me that was okay. I owe every bit of happiness I have now to you.”
“I think you overestimate my influence, Lo.”
“No, sir, I don’t. My own father didn’t accept my kink. You did. I wouldn’t have gone to Jasmine House if you hadn’t encouraged me. I wouldn’t have joined Blunts. I wouldn’t have found Emily.”
This is what Logan thinks he owes me.
“All I did was admit my own kink. It would have been pretty hypocritical of me to condemn you for what I need myself.”
“World is full of hypocrites.”
“That’s the truth, son. That is the truth. Now . . . tell me more about these dragon dildos.”
I stay for lunch, since Emily’s made buttermilk chicken especially for me. I take the opportunity to make sure she’s okay with the idea of me moving in. Emily’s an open book under most circumstances, but there’s no faking the enthusiasm in her eyes as she answers me.
“Yes, please. How do you say it in the Navy? Aye-aye, Master Mac.”
After laughing at the cute little salute she gives me, I tell her, “I’m not fooled. I know you just want a live-in babysitter.”
“You’ll be the Mac Granddaddy,” she says with a grin.
It’s good to see her joking about it. They’re both handling an ugly situation with humor, but I’m sure underneath, they’re in knots.
Logan’s former submissive used him to get pregnant.
When her husband found out, he alerted Logan to the baby’s possible paternity.
Logan’s gotten custody of the baby, by means he wouldn’t share with me but his eyes went bleak when we talked about it.
The baby was born a few weeks ago. There were complications with the birth and she’s in an ICU in London, but when she’s released, she’ll be coming to live with Logan and Emily.
Babies don’t scare me. I’ve never been happier than the six months I took care of Naomi after she was born.
But I had nine months to come to terms with the idea of being a father.
Logan and Emily have only been together for a short time.
He just collared her and got a ring on her finger. And now they’re going to be parents.
“We’ve already sound-proofed the nursery,” Logan says. He takes Emily’s hand and kisses the delicate knuckle above the pink diamond on her third finger.
“Both nurseries?” I wink at them before taking another bite of chicken.
Emily giggles. “Both nurseries.”