Master (19 page)

"You two go and sit in the lounge. I'll bring the
coffee through." Daisy stood up and left the table. Marco raised his
eyebrows. "Better do as she says. She gets bratty when she's crossed, and
she doesn't deserve to be punished." Marco stood up and waited for
Cade
to go ahead of him. "Seriously, man, she's been
out of her mind with worry for you both. Have you heard from Anna?"

Caden
shook his head as he entered
the lounge and sat in one of the big squishy armchairs. "God, I love this
chair. If it ever goes missing, you'll know where to look.
And
Anna?
Not a bloody thing except my twice weekly 'I'm fine' emails. Has
Daisy?"

"Has Daisy what?" The owner of the name entered
carrying a large tray that held coffee and mugs.
 
Marco took it from her and put it on the
coffee table.
"Thanks, babe.
Have you heard from
Anna?" Marco said.

"Nope.
She won't ring me because she
knows if you asked me I'd tell you the truth. She won't put me in that
position." She poured coffee into mugs and handed them round before
sitting on the rug by Marco's feet.

 
Cade
smiled to himself. They were so suited, much, much better than he and Daisy had
been. "You two look perfect together," he said before he had time to
think "I've wanted to say so for ages. You mesh."

"Ah,
Cade
, thank you. We
think so too. And um, oh lord, I'm just going to come out with it. Look, you
really aren't enjoying the club anymore, are you?" Daisy said in a rush,
her words running into each other as she tried to get them out.

Cade
considered her statement as
he wondered what it led up to. She was right though. His interest was
negligible, and to all intents and purposes he'd let Daisy do what she thought
fit with regards to running it.

"No, not really.
I haven't been fair, have
I?"

He noticed the worried glance she gave Marco, who stroked
her shoulder as if in reassurance.

"It's not that,
Cade
,"
Marco said. "Daisy will do everything that's needed for as long as it's
necessary. But I've got another idea. Could you walk away from the club? Have a
clean break except for maybe
guesting
?"

 
The idea shook him.
He'd been jaded, tired or fed up before, who hadn't? However, he'd never ever
thought about walking away.
Until that moment.
His
heart beat faster, and his pulse raced in a way he hadn't experienced for ages.
The excited I'm-interested-this-is-going-to-be-good sort of way. Splinters of
exhilaration pricked his skin, and it was all he could do to stay in his seat
and not dance around the room shouting
yee
haw.
That
would have made Marco and Daisy
wonder if he'd lost his marbles and
his
mind.
Cade
thought he'd found them
. "
D'you
know
?" he said slowly. "I could.
In a heartbeat.
Why?"

"Because if we can agree terms,
Daisy and I would like to buy it.
We reckon we're ready now."

Cade
looked from Marco's serious
face to Daisy's expectant one. He didn't miss the fine tremors that ran through
both of them as they waited for his answer.

"I reckon so too. Congratulations, you've got yourself
a club. Consider it a wedding present. No arguments.
Oh, and
a christening one."

Daisy's jaw dropped. "How on earth did you know?'
Cade
laughed,
the first truly
spontaneous and genuine laugh for weeks. "The coffee is decaffeinated and
has no smell, your boobs are bigger, and you both look like the cats
who
got the cream. Apart from that the rock on your finger sort
of gives the rest away." He crossed the room to shake hands with Marco and
give Daisy a hug. "That's brilliant news." He stifled the pang that
it could have been him and Anna. It wasn't, so he had to suck it up and get on
with it.

"What will you do,
Cade
?"
Anna asked as several hours later he prepared to go home. They had thrashed out
an agreement for the handover that satisfied them all.
Cade
had agreed to demo and tutor occasionally, and they were all happy.

"
Cade
?" Daisy said
again. "You are happy? I mean, if you want we can just carry on like we
are. I don't want you to do anything you're not certain about, nor does
Marco."

"What? Oh yeah, I'm all good. I've plenty to do in the
short term. Sort out the black hole in my room that is laughingly called a
cupboard.
And then?
I'm going to write a book."

PART FIVE

Outcome

Chapter Fifteen

"Tell me again. Stand up straight and drop the book,
you don't need it. Look at me, here." He tapped his face. "Right here
in the eyes, and tell me, Anna. What do you like?"

Anna gulped and tried to ignore the spiders that crawled
over her skin. She didn't recognize her teasing, play-for-the-audience friend
in the dangerous-looking leather-clad Dom in front of her.
A
Dom who tapped a crop on his thigh whilst he waited for her answer.

She dropped the book on the floor where it landed with a
thud. Her heart echoed it. Then she looked away from him and around the once
innocent-looking spare bedroom. It had taken on a whole new persona. Gone were
the pretty flounces and frilly curtains. The curtains, which were closed, were
now
a plain
deep maroon velvet. The lights were
bright, the soft bedtime ambiance replaced with a clinical brightness. Why, she
didn't know. She'd be a lot more comfortable with a low light. Or even no light.
The elegant four-poster still remained, but it had been moved to the middle of
the far wall and gained some shackles. In front of it was a long padded bench,
and to one side a table and cupboard with no hint to what was inside.

Athol had warned her that if they went forward it would be
no holds barred, pour her heart out, bare her soul stuff, and she was under no
illusions that he wouldn't keep his word. Maybe that was why she felt as if she
were in a doctor's examination room.

She straightened her body, looked back at him, took a deep
breath, and did as he demanded. At least he hadn't insisted she strip or wear
something she felt uncomfortable in. Anna ran her hands over her cutoffs to dry
her damp palms and
retucked
her T-shirt into the
waistband. It was obvious by the way Athol narrowed his eyes he saw that as the
delaying tactic it was.

"My name is Anna McCourt, Sir. I like bondage,
Shibari
, spankings, and wax play. I like to be blindfolded
and reliant.
With my Master and in private."

He nodded, and his stern expression softened. For a split
second he looked like the Athol she'd known.

"Good girl. See, that wasn't hard, was it?" Athol
hugged her. It was a pure comfort, non-sexual hug, and Anna leaned into it and
gained strength from it.

"No, Sir."

"There's a good girl. So now, Anna, let’s take those
one by one.
First of all."
His voice, which had
softened, took on a note of command once more. "What are your safe
words?"

"Oh,
er
red, yellow, and green, Sir."
Anna was puzzled. He knew that, because
they'd talked about what different people used often enough when she'd worked
in
Dommisimma
. They'd both agreed those simple and
easy to remember colors were preferable. Of course Athol hadn't known her
history when they'd first discussed them. Later, even after her drunken
confess-fest, she'd been reticent about a lot of things.

It seemed to Anna that Athol in Dom mode had ESP. His eyes
narrowed, and he tapped her head.

"Take it out of the mind and form it with your lips,
Anna. Yes, you're easy to read, which to me as a Dom
is a
great help
, believe me. However, one of the basic premises is
communication, and you know it. Don't think it,
say
it."

How could she have forgotten?
Because I wanted to.
I didn't want any responsibilities, and
then I could claim none of it was my fault.
She blinked. Where had that
come from?

Athol tapped his foot. She snapped out of her introspection.

"Oh, sorry, Sir.
I had a weird thought, and
yes, I'll tell you that as well. I've realized what you mean.
So, first, about my safe words.
Just because we've talked in
the past doesn't mean it's relevant in the here and now?"

"Exactly.
Good girl.
Now
what else?"

That wasn't going to be as easy. Athol put his hand under
her chin and tipped her face up. "Answer me, or we stop. I can only help
you if you're prepared to help yourself, Anna. This isn't a game." His
fingers tightened to just the acceptable side of pain. Anna bit her lip.

"I know it isn't, Sir. I just had the uncomfortable
revelation that I'd never wanted to take responsibility for anything I did.
Then I wouldn't need to admit that I liked what I,
er
,
we did. Even now," she paused as she tried to formulate her thoughts.
"Now I'm turned on by the thought of what I liked with Master
Caden
." She was amazed how easily the title slipped out.
"And how I think I'd feel with anyone else." She didn't expand on the
second part of her comment. That was dark and dangerous, and she didn’t feel
ready to go there yet.

Athol nodded and let go of her.

"And that we will discuss later." He walked across
the room to the cupboard, opened it, and took something out. Anna was in no
doubt he'd push and prod her again, but hoped she'd be ready for him. This soul
searching wasn't easy. She tried to see what he'd retrieved, but he kept his
back to her and the contents of the cupboard hidden. For such a small room,
he'd placed things in such a manner that Anna knew unless he wanted her to see
she wouldn't.

"Assume the position, love.
Next to
the bed, facing me."

Anna felt sick. Black spots flashed in front of her eyes,
and a pain throbbed in her temple. That was jumping in the deep end with a
vengeance. She hated the vulnerability and the panic she felt when she did
that. It was something she and
Caden
had agreed was
not for her, and they had contrived their own variation. However, Athol didn't
know. How would he? It was so private and personal she'd never spoken about it
to anyone else. It was something she blocked from her mind.

Communication,
communication.
Safe words.
Anna opened
her mouth to speak, and no words came out. She coughed and tried again.

"Sir, please, that’s yellow." Her voice was
scratchy. What if he didn't believe her?

For a long moment he looked at her without blinking. Then he
gave a brief nod.
"For now.
Are these the
same?" Athol held out a pair of Velcro cuffs.

Anna let her breath out with a whoosh. She had to trust him.
There was no point in continuing otherwise. She knew he'd comeback to her
yellow plea at some time, but for now she could carry on.

"No, Sir, they're green."

"Good." He fixed them round her wrists and ran his
fingers between the material and her skin. "Not too tight?"

"No, Sir, that's fine."

"Color?"

"Green, Sir. I promise I'll tell you if I'm not
happy."

"Sit." He pointed to a low stool. Anna complied;
she had no problems with that. "Now tell me why you had to safe word when
I asked you to assume the position."

She shook her head. It was stupid. How could she tell him
something like that?

"Sub, you tell me, or we stop."

Sub? I'm not his… oh lord, I
am at the moment.

"I feel silly.
Awkward and
ugly."
Once she'd said it, her heart felt lighter. She'd never
confessed all of how she felt to anyone. Not even
Cade
.
"All my wobbly bits are on show. And don't say I'm dressed. I know that,
but it makes no difference." She played back her words in her head.
"Sorry, Sir, that wasn't
me
being a brat. It's me
trying to explain my thoughts. If I assume the position like that, I don't know
what's happening, or who can see me, and I hate it. How can someone who says he
loves me let other people see me like that?" She stood up and walked
around the room. She was on a roll now. Her body was on fire, and her scalp
tingled. Her hair flew around her face as she swung around and faced Athol.
Anna pushed it out of the way. He stood unmoving and impassive, and she itched
to slap him, to do anything to get that impersonal look off his face. "How
can anyone do that? Let what's between us as a couple
be
on show? Let other people see how I fall apart and scream as I come? Tell me
that, eh?" she shouted, aware she was close to screaming like a banshee
and doing serious injury to something or someone. With
a
calmness
she didn't feel, and hindered by the cuffs, Anna poked Athol in
the chest. "How on earth can he show me open and bleeding to any old
pervert who's watching, eh? Let the world and his wife watch me come? Do those
same things to someone else? Touch her and flog her and control her climax.
Love?
Ha, that's a fucking joke. If he loved me he'd want me
all for himself. Why the fuck would he
need
to get his
rocks off
scening
with someone else? Why wasn't I
enough? Why wasn't our love enough for him? I loved him, and I only wanted to
be with him. Surely he should have felt the same?
If he
really loved me."