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Authors: Abby Gordon

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BOOK: Beck And Call
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slept for twelve hours. With coffee and a decent

breakfast in his system, he went to his home office.

After fifteen minutes though, he reached for the phone.

There were certain advantages, he grinned, in owning

the building that housed your company, your home,

and that of the person most likely to offer insight into

your current situation live in.

“Francine? It’s Keith. Is Grant there?” A moment

later the older man’s voice came on. “I need your

advice. Mind if I come by?”

Eschewing the elevator, Keith took the stairs to the

floor below, where Grant had the entire level. Francine,

dressed in a pale lavender silk caftan, waited with the

door open.

“Hello, Keith,” she smiled warmly, kissing her

cheek. “Finally get some sleep?”

“I’m punchy I got so much,” he nodded. “How’s the

little one?”

“Not letting me get any sleep,” she grimaced,

patting her rounded tummy. “Come on. Grant’s

painting in the nursery.”

As they went down the hall, Keith realized how the

penthouse had changed. Before Francine, it had been

sparsely furnished, except for Grant’s dungeon. As he

was, or rather had been, as much of a workaholic as

Keith, Grant had bought furniture only when he

needed it. A year ago, there had been only a grand

piano in the living room. Now, there were paintings on

the walls, Oriental rugs on the polished wood floors,

and, as Keith knew, comfortable furniture in the living

room. Francine had created a home.

“Yo, Grant!” he called down the hall.

Reaching the door, he blinked before laughing.

Turning, paint roller in hand, Grant glared at him,

before seeing his wife beyond the other man.

“You, stay back,” he ordered her. “Paint fumes

aren’t good for you.”

“Yes, dear,” she smiled, peering over Keith’s

shoulder. “It looks wonderful, darling.”

Putting the roller down, Grant pulled the paint-

spattered tee over his head and let it drop to the floor.

Keith stepped out of the way as Grant strode directly to

his wife. Undeterred and unrepentant, she smiled up at

him.

“I’m serious,” he said quietly, framing her face with

his hands.

“I know,” she nodded, wrapping her arms around

his waist. “You need a break and Keith needs to talk.”

Keith glanced away at how the expression in

Grant’s eyes was returned in full measure by Francine.

All he could think about was he and Serena in a similar

situation. And it hurt like hell to know it would never

be.

“So,” Grant murmured, guiding his wife back down

the hall. “What is the problem?” He went to bar and

began preparing their usual drinks. “I’m assuming this

isn’t business related. The last subject we discussed?”

he asked.

“Serena,” Keith confirmed with a nod.

Looking up from behind the bar, Grant put the last

glass on the tray. Joining his wife and friend in the

sitting area, he sat down and picked up his glass.

Francine took the glass of milk her husband handed

her and relaxed against him on the couch.

“What’s the problem?”

“I love her.”

The couple exchanged amused glances that irked

Keith. Standing, he paced. Grant tossed his whiskey

back.

“Okay, I’ll bite. Just how is loving Serena a

problem?”

“Dammit,

Grant!”

Keith

exploded.

“I

can

understand Penny not having a clue, but how can you

tell me you don’t understand why?”

“You can either watch your language in front of my

wife or leave,” Grant replied in a hard voice that gave

no other options.

Keith drew himself up and looked at them.

“I’m sorry, Francine. I’m just…”

“You’re upset you weren’t there when Mark

attacked her last Monday night,” she said softly. “When

there’s no way you could have suspected he would do

such a thing.”

“I should have,” Keith insisted. “I knew he had

assaulted her before. I knew he was fixated on her. I

just…” He groaned and shook his head. “I failed to

protect her. She’s my submissive. Or was,” he corrected

himself. “And I failed to…”

“This sounds ridiculously familiar,” Francine

chuckled. “Grant went through this as well.”

“What are…” He remembered the relentless rumors

the week before Grant had appeared at the breast

cancer fundraiser. After punching Keith’s older brother

Kevin in the nose, he’d found Francine and proposed

with his grandmother’s ring. Keith shook his head.

“Francine, it’s a totally different situation.”

“There’s more to what happened than what was in

the papers,” she said quietly. “I won’t go into details,

but it was actually very similar to what Serena went

through.”

Keith stared at her before looking at Grant.

“But you haven’t been arrested for murder,” he

pointed out. “Which is what will happen to me if I ever

see the…,” he stopped himself. Swearing in front of

Francine again would
n ot
be a good idea. “See Mark

again.”

“It was a near thing, trust me,” Grant said, pulling

his wife tight against him. “When I found out

everything
that she’d gone through…”

“He nearly had me tie him to the St. Andrew’s

cross,” Francine shook her head, fond indulgence in her

expression as she remembered.

Keith nearly dropped his glass.

“I can relate to that,” he whispered.

Francine groaned.

“God save me from men and their egos! Keith, listen

to me. Grant didn’t know what was happening, but as

soon as he did, he acted swiftly to not only protect me,

but to exact justice for me. Those who hurt me can

never do so again. No one is ever going to say or do

anything to me because they know what Grant’s

reaction will do. Knowing my man will protect me is the

most incredible feeling in the world.”

“But I didn’t protect Serena!” he exclaimed.

“Did you act when you knew the danger?” Francine

pressed. “Did you make sure that she had the best care

in the hospital?”

“Yes, of course…”

“Has she called you since?”

“Every day,” he whispered. “She leaves the same

message asking me to call her.”

Francine rose and came to him. Gently she took one

of his hands and put it on her stomach. Keith’s eyes

widened as he felt the baby move.

“This is a miracle. Love is a miracle. When God

gives you a miracle, you don’t throw it away. You hold

onto it with both hands and protect it with everything

you can. She’s reaching out to you, Keith. Go to her.”

Unable to speak, Keith considered her words as her

child thumped against his palm.

“You really think so?”

“Don’t tell me my daughter’s godfather isn’t as

smart as her daddy says he is,” Francine chided with a

twinkle in her eyes.

Her words struck him and he glanced at Grant.

Crossing his legs, Grant just grinned.

“Well? If you make me look like a liar to my wife, I’ll

be pretty pissed.”

“Then I guess I better not do that,” Keith smiled.

“Considering the last MacLauren who pissed you off got

a broken nose.”

“Get out of here,” came the order. Grant grinned at

him. “Get your hands off my wife and go get your own.”

Gallantly bringing Francine’s hands up, Keith

kissed them.

“You’ll help Serena?”

“Of course,” she nodded. “Go to her, Keith.”

Nodding, his brain already spinning out a plan,

Keith headed for the door.

“Grant, I’ll call you tomorrow about nine.”

“It better be to say you didn’t screw this up!” he

called after him.

Laughing, Keith closed the door behind him and

took the stairs two at time. He had lots to do and little

time to get it all done.

As she got ready for bed, the black cell phone rang.

She stared at it. Now he called? A week after she’d

nearly been killed. She almost didn’t answer it. She was

so tempted to throw it away. A weekend of heaven and

he ignored her when she needed him.

“Hello?” Serena couldn’t believe she’d picked the

darn thing up.

“Are you alone?”

“No, I’m having a wild orgy with four other men,”

she replied sarcastically. “My other boyfriends came to

the hospital and have been taking care of me. They

cared enough to—”

“Serena, I care,” he whispered.

“Then why didn’t you come?” she cried out, curling

up on the bed. “I called you every day and got that

damn voice thing! I needed you! And you ignored me.”

“No,” he said.

“Yes,” she insisted. “I needed you and you weren’t

there. I needed you to hold me so I’d know I was safe.”

Tears flowed down her cheeks. “I needed you, Master!

Why weren’t you there?”

There was a long pause and she nearly threw the

phone across the room.

“Do you trust me?”

“I’m not sure I should,” she whispered, closing her

eyes.

“You’ll soon know who I am,” he told her. “I want

you to unchain your door. Did you get the box I sent

last week?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Follow the directions. I’ll be there at ten.”

Serena shook her head, but he cut off the

connection. She was crazy. She had completely lost her

mind. After everything she’d gone through, she

shouldn’t even consider doing what he wanted.

She glanced at her watch. It was nine o’clock. She

pulled her legs up and wrapped around her arms

around them. He finally called, giving no reason for not

being there this past week, then expected her to cuff

herself blindfolded to her own bed and wait for him!

Serena groaned as the thought of being so helpless,

waiting for him to come to her, made her nipples tingle

and her pussy tighten in need.

“I’m hopeless,” she muttered to herself, pushing her

body off the couch. “Absolutely and completely

hopeless. Like you need this, Serena Marie. You need

this like you need…everything you ever wanted,” she

sighed. “Oh, hell!”

She took a shower, carefully shaving and scrubbing

her body clean. She blew her hair dry and, wrapped in

her fuzzy robe, checked the door. With twenty minutes

to go, she went to get the box and the vibrator. The

ends of the tethers went around the posts of the bed

frame.

“He’s lucky I don’t have a heavy bed,” she muttered

to herself as she went around and lifted each post to slip

the loop around the frame. “Now how am I supposed to

adjust these so it’s right?” She shook her head. “I can’t

get it perfect, but he can fix it when he gets here.”

She pulled the cuffs toward the center of the bed

and figured she could shorten the ankle tethers a bit.

The silence was making her anxious and she put in a

soothing meditative CD then lit some candles.

At ten ‘til ten, she lubed the vibrator and put her

ankles in the cuffs. Impressed with how she’d gotten the

lengths right, she eased the vibrator in and turned it

on. Easing herself back against the pillows, she figured

that she needed to position the blindfold on her

forehead, cuff one wrist, pull the blindfold down and

loosely cuff the second.

Waiting, she wondered if this was how concubines

or captives in a harem had felt waiting for the sheik to

see if they were worthy of his, um, attentions. She

couldn’t restrain the nervous giggle. And felt the

vibrator shift inside her. Okay, a harem girl probably

hadn’t had a vibrator in her, but the book on

Domination/Submission had mentioned that dildos had

been around for centuries.

Closing her eyes, she let her body relax and

thought of her master finding her. Waiting for him in

obedience. What would he do? Would he jump on the

bed, rip the vibrator from her, and fuck her in desperate

need? Would he find fault with something and tease her

with a punishment? Or would…she twisted her head

toward the open bedroom door.

She heard the apartment door open and softly close.

But when long moments passed and she heard nothing

besides the music, she wondered if it had been her

imagination. She shifted on the bed and the nub of the

vibrator hit her clit just right.

“Oh!”

She twitched her hips and relaxed as the pressure

lightened.

Until it came back. Without her moving.

BOOK: Beck And Call
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