Masters 02 Master of the Abyss (17 page)

“Morgan, break out the vests and guns,” she yelled. “It’s time to win our independence from England!”

All the potential soldiers cheered. A second later, twinkle lights flashed on around the property, designating the boundaries of the battlefield, as well as giving light to the seating areas and the deck.

From the deck, Morgan tossed vests to the combatants: red for the English, blue for the patriots. Cheers and complaints came from the recipients. Meantime, Virgil and Wyatt cleared the battlefield of tables and chairs and other obstacles.

As Kallie reached the deck, Jake appeared, tucking his fingers under her waistband to stop her. “What’s going on?”

“Water tag—or should I say, the American Revolution fought on the Masterson battlefield with water for bullets. Want to play?”

Jake stared at the soldiers suiting up—donning vests—and choosing their weapons from a variety of water pistols, and he had to laugh. The Mastersons were definitely insane. He grinned. “Damn right.”

Kallie patted his chest and shook her head. “You are such a boy.”

“True. Very true.” He pulled her forward, keeping his eyes on hers. Seeing the heat spark to life. He leaned down to brush her lips with his. “You’d best be careful, soldier. If I capture you, I’ll be forced to conduct an interrogation,” he whispered. “There are many, many ways to make an enemy talk, and I know them all.”

Even in the dim light, he saw a flush darken her cheeks and the way her nipples peaked inside her tight shirt. Her laugh came out husky and low. “Well. You’ll have to capture me first, won’t you?” She raised her chin in a definite challenge. “By the way, beware of the artillery and their bombs.”

“What?”

She nodded at a group of older guests lined up behind the deck railing. Tubs filled with red and blue water balloons waited at their feet. “Bombs.”

“You people are amazing. Bombs, huh?” His laugh broke off as the word registered.
Bombs. War
. Where was Logan? He spotted his brother standing inside the kitchen, oblivious to the game starting up outside.
Hell.

“Jake, are you all right?”

“Where’s Becca?”

Kallie turned and pointed. “Down by the creek with Serena.”

“Thanks.” He jogged across the grass, not slowing when he realized Kallie trotted beside him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Not taking time to answer, he stopped by Logan’s woman. “Becca,” he said sharply enough to have her spinning around. “There’s going to be water tag, and it’s set up to simulate a war. Guns. And bombs.”

Her face paled.

“Dammit, Jake.” Kallie slugged his arm to get his attention.

Bad little sub, he thought, then explained. “When we were overseas, Logan and his team were sliced to bits by an IUD. He’s the only one who survived, and still has nightmares.”

“Hellfire,” Kallie muttered. “Being a macho idiot like you, he won’t leave the party either, right?”

Becca shook her head. “Probably not.”

“
Men
. Okay then, coax him into the living room. Seems like there should be a game on—the World Cup for soccer?”

“That’ll work. Thanks,” Becca said and sprinted up the lawn toward the house.

“Nightmares?” Kallie asked Jake.

“Better now, but they were pretty ugly for years. After counseling, he managed all right during the day, but any noise might set him off at night, and he’s a hell of a fighter, especially when he doesn’t realize he’s not back in battle. That’s why I got him out here, why we started up the lodge—to get away from city noises and sirens.” He frowned at the creek, unconsciously rubbing the scar on his forehead.

Her eyes narrowed. “Did he attack
you
?”

His hand dropped, and after a second, he nodded. “On the ranch one night, I heard something getting at the calves, so I yelled at him to get his ass up. He got up…but he wasn’t awake.” He shrugged. “Scared us both a tad.”

That was a damned big scar. A chill ran down her spine as she realized how close Jake had come to dying at his own brother’s hands. But Jake still stood loyally at his brother’s side. Her heart turned over in her chest. Damn him, why did he have to be so…perfect? “Did you
want
to run a lodge?”

The corner of his mouth turned up in a wry smile. “Hadn’t considered it when I went to college. I’d planned to buy a spread next to my parents.”

“Ranching?”

He nodded. “Eastern Oregon.” Kallie followed his gaze to the glow on top of the mountains, the dark sky, and the stars popping into existence one by one. “But I would have missed this. And it suits me far better than ranching.” He added, “I miss the horses sometimes.”

A rancher. A soldier. No wonder he had an I-can-do-anything attitude. And even though his brother had attacked him, had left that scar on his face—something far, far worse than anything she’d ever done—Jake hadn’t abandoned him. Instead he’d changed his whole life to support Logan. Her heart wrenched, and she couldn’t help but wrap her arms around his waist.

“Hey.” He stroked her hair, then tilted her head. “You okay, sprite?”

Her lips trembled.
Logan knifed someone and was still loved—so what horrible thing did I do that no one could love me
? She pressed her mouth into a straight line, ignoring the way he narrowed his eyes. With a small laugh, she said, “I thought I’d cop a feel before I slaughter you in battle.”

His gaze stayed intent for a moment. Then he obviously decided to let her evade. He rubbed his knuckles along the line of her jaw. “You’re not going to play on my team?”

“Pfft, no way in hell.” She grabbed his hand and started toward the house. “I have a memory of someone beating on me very recently.” In fact, she could still feel the imprint of his palm on her butt. “You’re going to die. Uh…Sir.”

“Good luck, imp.” He caught her nape and pulled her close enough to murmur, “But you should know, I do take prisoners, and I’m looking forward to having you in my custody.”

The sheer carnal tone in his deep voice sent a shiver down her spine, followed by a blast of heat. She could feel the controlled strength of his hand on her neck—just enough to restrain, not enough to hurt. What would he do to a prisoner?

He chuckled, tugged a lock of her hair, and raised his hand to join the fray. Morgan tossed him a red vest. Looked like she’d wear patriot blue tonight.

* * *

Despite the sprite’s warning, the first so-called bomb took Jake by surprise. The water splashed across his vest and into the specially designed pockets that held water and determined the score, according to the rules Morgan had explained. If and when his vest pockets completely filled, he’d be considered dead and out of the war. He’d managed to evade most of the water from the pistols—all his military training should count for something—but nobody escaped the water bombs.

He eased around a stacked hay bale—and now he knew the reason for the scattered bales—and dodged back in time to escape a stream of water. Kallie’s army had slaughtered—well, drenched—his redcoats until only five or so remained, leaving them seriously outnumbered. And perhaps outplayed, he thought as another of his team fell over with an enthusiastic screech.

Catching a glimpse of Kallie edging around a hay bale, Jake took aim. Before he could fire, a balloon splattered over her, winning a yelp of surprise and then a low scream. “Ice water! Wyatt, you bas—you jerk.”

On the deck, Kallie’s cousin hooted and grabbed another bomb out of an ice-filled cooler.

Jake took advantage of her distraction and shot at her, catching her square in the back. She yelled and jumped out of sight, and then her infectious laughter mingled with the sounds of battle. Jake grinned.
Damn, she’s fun
. Now he’d best keep an eye behind him for a tricky little sub. He checked the remnants of his army: two youngsters and a college boy. Maybe if they split up and tried attacking from the flanks…

Not much later, as the twilight faded to black, the bombers increased their activity to end the war. A barrage of water balloons killed Jake and another two soldiers. The last man standing was an adorable little girl, a patriot about nine years old, and the sneakiest minifighter he’d ever seen. As he ruffled her wet hair and congratulated her, his gaze went to the second sneakiest: his own little sub.

Not mine.

Mine.

As Jake watched Kallie strip off her waterlogged vest, a surge of heat almost scalded him. The sprite was braless, and the ice-water balloons her cousin preferred had made her nipples contract into jutting points.

She didn’t notice, and he considered his choices. Let her stay clueless so he could enjoy the sight…but let others also enjoy?
Mine
. He wrapped an arm around her. “Leave your vest on, sprite.”

Her puzzled expression made him chuckle despite the burning need to lift her shirt and warm those cold, thrusting peaks with his tongue. “No bra? Ice water?”

“Oh, shit.” She yanked her vest back on faster than a marmot hiding from a fox. “I forgot how tight my shirt is.”

“You know, you look beautiful today,” he said, moving close enough to slide a hand under her shirt without being seen. “And I’m enjoying your lack of a bra.” Although his cock had turned hard enough to break bricks.

“I’m surprised you even noticed. You know, life just isn’t fair, giving me tiny breasts and a fat butt. That’s—” Her mouth dropped open as she stared up at him. “I cannot believe I said that to you.”

He didn’t even try to keep from laughing.

She grinned. “You’re such a jerk. It’s not funny.”

He lifted her chin and frowned into her lovely dark eyes. “We’re not playing tonight, but I am keeping track of the insults you’ve given your dom. I will deal out your punishment accordingly.”

Hearing her soft inhalation and seeing her lick her lips shook his control. What was there about a submissive’s nervous anticipation?

Staring up at him, obviously reading the change in his face, she swallowed slowly.

He chuckled and pulled her against his chest. “Sugar, I don’t think you understand men. We might prefer various sizes and shapes, but that’s less important than liking who we’re with. And being guys, if you have breasts of any size or shape, we’re gonna like them.” Concealed by their bodies, his thumbs caressed her nipples before he slid his hands down to cup her ass.

“However, it so happens that your ass is just the size I prefer.” He squeezed, heard her muffled squeak. “Soft enough to cushion me, big enough to grip hard. It jiggles too—and when it’s up in the air and I’m pounding into you, that jiggle is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He squeezed again and then nudged her back. “Those breasts are mine to appreciate. Go change.”

How many times tonight could he put that red tinge into her cheeks? He grinned. As he turned away, he saw Wyatt and Morgan staring down at him from the deck.

* * *

After Kallie put on a bra and another shirt from Rebecca, she brought out more desserts for the table. She glanced around for Jake, trying not to appear too obvious. His low laugh drifted up from the grassy area, and she spotted him, surrounded by children, collecting the water pistols to store away. His wet shirt clung to his broad shoulders, outlining his contoured muscles as he ruffled Tyson’s hair. The little boy grinned up at him, leaning against him as they unloaded guns together.

She set down Mrs. McCaffrey’s three-layer chocolate cake, deliberately getting her finger in the chocolate-fudge frosting. As she sucked it off, she glanced at Morgan. “Need any help?”

He slammed the barbecue shut and scowled.

“What?”

“What do you think you’re doing with Hunt?”

“Just what I want to know,” Wyatt said from behind her.

She turned, keeping them both in her gaze. This two-against-one business annoyed the hell out of her. “Nothing much.”

“Looked like much to me,” Wyatt said. “He had his hands on you.”

Had everyone at the party noticed? “It’s… We’re…”

Wyatt shoved a hand through his hair. “Cuz, I don’t think you realize…Jake’s, well, he’s got a reputation.”

“I know, Wyatt.”

“You can’t possibly have any idea,” Morgan broke in.

“But it’s more than…that,” Wyatt said with a warning look at his brother. “He’s messed around with every woman in town. Dates and dumps.”

“I can handle myself.” This was why she never brought a date home.

“Uh-uh. You don’t have the experience to deal with someone like him. Or the stuff he—” Wyatt flushed. “You’re not…experienced, and he…is. He’s just the wrong kind of man for you. You’re a good girl.”

Oh, honestly
. She rolled her eyes. “I’m not a girl anymore, you know, and I
have
dated men in the past.”

“Not like him. Hell, we should never have let you go to the lodge, no matter how tough you are.” Wyatt glanced toward the yard with a disgusted look. His face softened when he turned back to her. “He’ll break your heart, Kallie, and I won’t put up with that. If he keeps bothering you, we’ll teach him to keep his distance, and if it costs us the lodge’s business, so be it.”

“What? You can’t do that.” Throw away clients because of her?

“He’s playing you, Kallie.” Morgan gripped her shoulder.

Wyatt shook his head. “I know you’re having fun, but he’ll hurt you. He’s already messed with your head. Look at your clothes.” He motioned at her shirt, and the disapproval in his eyes shook her. “You’ve never dressed like this before. I think you should stay away from him.”

Morgan nodded.

“We’re really worried here, cuz.” Wyatt pulled on her hair lightly. “Don’t do this to us, okay? We just want you to be safe.”

A hand seemed to have gripped her around the chest, constricting until she hurt with every breath. “I’ll think about it.”

Even though Morgan smiled at her, she could see the concern in his face. “I know you’d never let us down. You’re a good girl.”

As the two walked away, she whispered, “I’m not a girl.”

Maybe she should move out. Find a house for herself. She looked around at the deck and yard filled with people, at the pastures with horses—her horses—and the mountains circling the green valley. Her sanctuary was up that trail. How could a quiet apartment of her own compete with grumbling men in the morning, fights in the hay barn, and the joy of cold beer in the evening as they compared trail stories and cop complaints?