Missionary Position (Masters of the Prairie Winds Club Book 7) (2 page)

She’d been wearing a floral sundress the day her curiosity and desire had finally won out over her fear—good Lord, she must have looked like Alice in Wonderland. Walking though the heavy engraved doors had certainly been akin to stepping through the looking glass because her entire life had changed for forever in that moment. And now, looking back, she couldn’t help but shake her head at what everyone had to have thought because she had to have looked like the poster child for bimbo tourists everywhere. But the sad truth was she’d been trying to impress everyone by dressing up in her nicest clothes. The children of missionaries didn’t have enormous clothing allowances and the simple sundress she’d worn had been the single piece in her wardrobe that hadn’t been washed a zillion times.

By the time she’d made her way past the gatehouse and down the long drive leading to the club itself to step into the lavishly decorated reception area, Lara had been shaking so badly she’d worried her knees were actually going to start knocking against one another. But if she’d thought working up her nerve to enter had been tough, the worst was yet to come. Hearing the exorbitant membership cost had been earth shattering—all those weeks of anticipation had paled in the disillusionment she’d felt. Even though she’d tried to cover up her disappointment, she’d seen the knowing looks in the eyes of those watching her with a mixture of surprise and disdain that someone who was so obviously an outsider had even entertained the idea she might be able to join. Oh yeah, the people standing in the opulent entry hadn’t been fooled by her quick nod of understanding and polite thanks as she backed toward the door. She’d almost made it to the exit and she was proud of herself for holding back the tears of humiliation threatening to steal the last bits of her shredded dignity. Why she’d thought she had a prayer of being able to afford a membership had been a mystery.

Lara had been shocked when the incredibly handsome man who’d been standing to the side of the reception desk spoke up. He was without any doubt the best looking man she’d ever seen, his movie star looks had stolen her ability to focus and when he stepped around the chest high counter to stand in front of her, the only thing Lara had been able to do was stare up at him. She had probably looked even more like a fish out of water standing there with her mouth hanging open. He’d introduced himself and mentioned a program the club’s owner was considering, which would allow potential members the opportunity to work part-time in one of the small businesses being opened inside the club in exchange for a reduction of their membership fee. Lara hadn’t known until recently that Fischer’s motives had been far from altruistic.

Listening to the ceremony taking place across the large room, Lara couldn’t hold back her giddiness as she watched her former boss and his wife recommit themselves to one another before they each in turn pledged themselves to Carl Phillips. Seeing the love so clearly written in their expressions and watching how effortlessly it flowed between the three of them renewed her hope of someday finding the same joy. And knowing the unique dynamics of their relationship made Lara smile. Their extraordinary relationship was a perfect reminder that love doesn’t always look like we expect it to. That lesson in tolerance had been one her missionary parents had impressed upon her repeatedly when she was younger. As she’d grown up, Lara had gradually realized Lawrence and Rita Emmons methods of teaching Biblical lessons was more political and action based—something she assumed was part of the reason they were transferred so often.

Her mom and dad had taken various missionary positions around the globe, and had only settled in Texas to fulfill a promise they’d made years earlier. Allowing their daughter to complete high school in one place had been an enormous concession on their part, but Lara had made the deal with them when she’d been too young to understand the challenge it presented to them, but she had to admire the fact they’d kept their word. Her mom and dad might not have been considered Evangelicals completely devoted to spreading the word of God, but that didn’t mean they’d forgotten the fact unconditional love was at the core of their religious beliefs. Lara had lived in some of the most poverty stricken and politically volatile areas of the world, where her blond hair and curvy figure drew a lot of negative attention. But her parents had always stressed the importance of being true to yourself, and it had been that particular lesson that had given her the courage to explore the piece of sexuality that didn’t seem to fit in with her friends’ views.

Bringing her attention back to the moment, Lara admired the transformation Tobi West and Gracie McDonald had made in the club’s main room. The entire event had been organized by the two whirlwinds from The Prairie Winds Club and they had somehow turned the kink club’s largest room into something resembling an English garden. How they had managed to use so many flowers baffled Lara and the crew that had carried in case after case of every imaginable type of flora. As she stood between Peter and Fischer Weston, she felt her heart melting at the intimacy of the ceremony itself. Tobi and Gracie might have done everything else, but the vows had obviously been written by the participants themselves. The ceremony was being conducted by a member of the club, and even though Cam and CeCe were still the only ones legally married, Lara would defy anyone to deny unity of all three people making their pledges to one another.

Over the past six months she had watched as an entirely new side of Cameron Barnes emerged. As the owner of Dark Desires, one of the country’s more prestigious kink clubs, Master C as he was known, had a reputation as one of the most hardline Doms around. She’d been equal parts terrified and mesmerized by him the entire time she’d been working at the club. But the ruthless man who often seemed to materialize out of thin air—
how could anyone move so quietly?
—which continually kept her looking over her shoulder, had faded quickly and been replaced by a far more likable version.

The only time she’d seen anything resembling the unyielding Dominant she’d known as Master C before Carl Phillips’ arrival was a few days ago during their discussion about the ridiculous amount of money he was paying her as a nanny when she wasn’t doing the work. He’d leaned back against his desk with his arms crossed over his muscular chest and his ankles crossed in a deceptively casual pose as he listened patiently and studied her intently. When she had finally paused, he’d pushed away from the desk standing to his full height before proceeding to explain in very colorful detail how much he would enjoy watching her Masters punish her for insolence if he heard another word about it.
Damnable man.

He was awfully bossy for a man who was selling the club—just in case anyone was interested in her opinion—which of course they weren’t. No, if Lara had learned one thing during her time at Dark Desires, it was Doms rarely asked anything even vaguely resembling permission after their initial negotiations with a submissive—they didn’t need to, because they watched…everything.

“There’s that enchanting Mona Lisa smile again. I’m wondering where your mind is wandering off to, precious girl.” Peter’s sweet words moved over the shell of her ear leaving behind heat far more intense than the warmth of his breath. They had all three been so exhausted by the time they’d returned to the penthouse each night the past week , they’d barely had the energy to shower before falling face first into bed. Obviously her body was beginning to protest the lack of attention because suddenly every cell felt as if it had been electrified.
Talk about being pathetic, holy craptastic, Lara, all the man did was whisper a question in your ear and your mind skips right to how fast you can get naked before you trip him and beat him to the floor.
Lara had big plans for Fischer and Peter after tonight’s ceremony. She fully intended to have her wicked way with her Masters, even if it meant getting a few swats beforehand.

“My love, you know, even though I can’t hear your thoughts clearly, it doesn’t mean I’m not getting very strong emotions. Anytime we are skin to skin I’m gifted with awareness of what you are feeling, and right now I’m sensing you are feeling a bit neglected.” She couldn’t hold back her gasp of surprise,
damn it all to dirty dominos. How did he know?
When their grandmother had visited a few weeks earlier, the older woman had warned her as their bond grew, both men’s abilities to “read her” would probably strengthen as well. But Lara had shrugged it off as something to worry about a few years into the future rather than just a couple of months.
Frack a big friggin’ frog.

Peter moved so quickly she barely had time to register the movement before she felt two heated swats on her thinly covered ass. The dress they’d chosen for her to wear was made of midnight blue silk and was the most comfortable thing she’d ever worn—except for the fact it was cut to her naval in the front and to the dimples at the top of her ass in the back. When she’d asked how she was supposed to keep her breasts from making a sudden appearance both men had simply shrugged. She was guessing they wouldn’t be too happy about the double stick tape she’d used to secure the edges. Lara quickly banished those thoughts hoping Peter hadn’t picked them up.

Gasping at the sting but immediately feeling her sex flood with moisture, Lara wanted to curse her traitorous body. Damn her horny self, it was going to give her away even though she wanted to act indignant about her stinging ass cheeks. Peter slid his hand up the back of her dress and Lara felt herself stiffen for just a moment. Before meeting the Weston brothers, she would have been mortified to have a man pawing her in plain view of others, but they had been slowing acclimating her to being naked in public. They’d teased her about being a prude, but she knew better. Even though they liked to remind her it was their decision when and if they displayed her in public, they had also been crystal clear about the fact they only shared with one another.

Peter’s fingers slid over the slick folds of her newly waxed pussy lips and she heard him chuckle, “
Mi amõre
, your body betrays you. Those little frown lines between your brows are trying to convince me you don’t like to have your lovely ass warmed by my hand, but your juicy little pussy says something else entirely.” In her peripheral vision, Lara could see Fischer’s all too arrogant smile. He knew exactly what his brother was doing to her and he obviously wasn’t going to do a thing to distract him. “Which one do you think I’m more inclined to believe, precious girl?”

That was a rhetorical question, right?
Because he surely couldn’t be serious about requiring an answer when the truth was coating his fingers slick with her juices.
Fuck me, if he’d just push a little further forward and press just a smidgen harder…
“Brother, I do believe our sub is in need of a good orgasm. Those breathy little moans of hers are starting to attract attention.” Lara felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water on her, every one of her muscles stiffened and her eyes went instantly wide as embarrassment rocked her.

Fischer stepped in front of her and tipped her chin up with his fingers trying to gain her attention, but she was frantically searching to see who was watching them finger her to the edge of release in front of God and everybody. Lara hadn’t even realized she wasn’t breathing until his voice broke through her panic, “Stop, Lara. Look at me—and only at me. Breathe with me, baby.” She gasped in the first breath as if she’d just run a marathon. “There’s a good girl. Damn, sweetheart, I thought we were past this.”

Peter had been blindsided by Lara’s reaction to his comment. Hell, there wasn’t anyone even close to them, but her entire body had locked down when she thought she’d attracted attention by responding to his touch. The woman’s body was pure fucking blonde bombshell perfection, but her parents’ emphasis on modesty had definitely left its mark on her subconscious. She was just under five and a half feet tall with luscious curves and long blond hair falling in soft curls that always made her look like she’d just tumbled out of bed reminding Peter of a stereotypical Hollywood starlet from the fifties.

If he had to guess, Peter would assume her parents had encouraged the young beauty to hide her assets so she wouldn’t draw unwanted attention. As a former Special Forces operative, he’d been in most of the areas of the world where she’d lived and knew all too well how dangerous they could be for a beautiful woman—particularly one whose golden hair and fair complexion would have made her stand out no matter what she’d been wearing.

It was damned frustrating to have to guess what was going through her mind. Even though he was finally beginning to read her emotions, he still couldn’t grasp her thoughts and it was crazy-making. He and Fischer had wondered many times during the past couple of months how their friends managed to keep their woman happy when they didn’t have the vaguest idea what they wanted. Kent and Kyle West had laughed out loud about their complaints, claiming they didn’t need to be empaths because Tobi’s face and body told them everything they needed to know. Kyle had actually shuddered, “It scares me to think about hearing what’s going on in her pretty head because most of the time I think she is plotting our painful demise.”

Gracie’s husbands, Micah Drake and Jax McDonald, had been more circumspect. Micah had simply pointed out one of the things that made a woman so appealing was her mystique, Jax had agreed and then simply laughed while telling them to suck it up. Oddly enough, it had been Taz Ledek, who was, without question, the most dangerous of their former teammates, who’d provided the most valuable insight. Taz’s Native American grandmother was a well-respected healer and Taz had obviously inherited some of her unique gifts. He’d asked if they were listening with their hearts or their minds, and Peter had been too stunned to even attempt to answer. When neither he nor his brother responded, Taz had simply nodded as if he’d done his part and leaned back in his chair casually continuing to sip his beer.