Switch Master: 6 (Ink and Kink) (5 page)

Heading out of Boston, he took the route toward Framingham
while Samantha reached out with her other hand to turn the heat down a little.
After the cab was more comfortable, she squeezed his hand and chuckled.

“You’re still stunned about roller derby, aren’t you?” she
asked.

“Tell me about it.”

“You’re not upset?”

“I’m intrigued. How’d it happen?”

“When I was really young, I was a decent roller skater. I
was wicked fast. Skating and computers were the center of my teenaged universe.
I’d forgotten how much I loved skating until someone in my support group at the
safe haven mentioned tryouts for a new spring roller derby league. I decided to
check it out.”

“That’s amazing.”

“What’s amazing is that I made the Framingham Femme Fatales.
I’m a pivot.”

“You’re going to have to tell me what that means.”

“Most of the time, I act as a blocker, preventing the
opposing team’s jammer from scoring. Occasionally, I pivot and become the
jammer in order to score.”

Taran admitted he knew nothing about roller derby other than
two teams of women tried to outskate, out-push and out-block each other.
Samantha being a pivot didn’t surprise him. It was a little like being a
switch.

“Keep talking, Samantha, I’m learning.”

“Can you call me Sam, do you think?”

“Sam’s a bit boyish for you.”

“It’s my name.”

“When we’re not having sex or in the mood, I’ll try my best
to call you Sam.”

“Do I have to call you Master?”

“If we’re in a scene or you want to be in one, yes, you do.”

“I’m not sure I can do it, Taran.”

“Sure you can. It’s easy. Master Taran, see?”

“No, no, I’m not sure I can submit,” she clarified. “I can’t
be a slave.”

“Who said anything about slavery? Successful D/s
relationships build on trust and an exchange of power. Communication is
constant, negotiation always open and you are my equal.”

“The research and the books Alex gave me explained that. I
still have reservations.”

“What you need to do is stop thinking it’s a weakness to
being more intrigued with submission than you are about being dominant right
now.”

“I don’t think it’s a weakness. Two of my best friends are
submissives. They’re the strongest women I know.”

“Then why would you think you’re not strong? You’re an
amazing woman.”

“I’m hardly perfect.”

“Lord knows I’m not a saint. I fully intend to seduce you
tonight, Samantha. When you came into the bathroom, didn’t you know that’s what
would happen?”

She swallowed hard, the sound catching his attention. Her
hand trembled.

“Am I in trouble for doing that?” she asked.

“For coming into my shower without an invite, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not in trouble for that.”

“Uh oh,” she mumbled.

“You’re in trouble for not climbing into the shower with
me.”

“I was a little stunned to find out you were sexier than I
could ever dream.”

“No more sex dreams for you. From now on, I’m turning your
fantasies into reality.”

He eased his grip some but she didn’t let go of his hand.
Enjoying the simplicity of it, he couldn’t remember liking something more.
Yeah, this was nice. He was on a date with Samantha. That was a step in the
right direction.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re not listening to me about
what we will and won’t do tonight?” she asked. Taking her hand from his lap and
bringing it to his mouth, he was careful to watch where he was driving while
kissing the back of her hand.

“I’m listening. Doesn’t mean I’m holding back anymore. We’ve
waited months. It’s our time and we’re taking it.”

“You’ve no idea how much I want to be with you,” she
admitted, her trembling eased and he kissed her hand again. “I’m still scared
but less so than I was when you first called me baby doll.”

And that said a lot right there. Samantha had resisted him
this long because she was afraid he’d break her heart. There was no way he’d let
that happen. The only way to convince her of that was to show her every day
from this point on.

“Everything will be all right, Sam. I’m not going to let you
down.”

If she broke his heart after this night, it’d be because
he’d done something wrong. He refused to let that happen. He was a Maddox. He’d
move heaven and earth to protect his lover and make her happy.

Sam really hoped Taran didn’t know how nervous she was. He
kept hold of her hand and she liked that. It was even nicer when he placed her
hand in his lap and gave her the option to keep it there or pull away.

Honestly, she wasn’t even sure when she’d last held
someone’s hand. Thinking back on it, yes, she knew when it’d last happened.

She’d first held hands with Mark Cormack. He’d been the
older boy she’d met while living on Martha’s Vineyard for the summer with her
mom, Gwen, who’d been the housekeeper for Mark’s parents, Barbara and Martin.

While at the Cormack family compound, she’d been content
keeping out of their way by playing a computer game on the desktop system she’d
gotten as an early birthday present. She certainly hadn’t expected to meet Mark
when he came home for summer break from Harvard.

He’d worn ragged cutoff shorts, no shirt and trendy sandals.
He’d been cute with his shaggy brown hair and beachcomber look. He’d coaxed her
away from the computer, bought her ice cream and took her for a long, romantic
walks.

The first time he kissed her, she’d melted. He’d tried to go
beyond kissing, but she’d resisted, claiming she wanted to wait until she
graduated college before having sex.

That night seemed so long ago. He’d chucked her under the
chin, took her home and sent her to bed once she promised to meet him the next
night. At first, she resisted, but he’d come to her window, singing badly,
tossing pebbles, luring her out to play.

By midsummer, she’d given him her virginity on a blanket on
a remote stretch of beach near the family’s boat dock. As rough as the sand had
been, as much as she’d resented the minor discomfort, they had sex the next
night and the next.

She’d foolishly thought Mark was the love of her life. She’d
thought trinkets and flowers and saltwater taffy meant they’d be together
forever.

Most of all, she’d trusted him when he’d promised to protect
her from pregnancy by coming in his hand or on her stomach. It’d been the
biggest mistake she’d ever made, one that had consequences that continued to
hurt her today.

“Tell me about Luke,” Taran said, rubbing his fingers over
her hand.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Where’d you go over there, doll? You were spacing out.”

“I was just thinking about the last time I’d held hands with
someone.”

“When was that, Sam?”

“The summer before my senior year of high school,” she
answered.

“What was his name?”

“Mark Cormack.”

“Was he from the same Cormack family over on the Cape and
Islands?” Taran inquired.

“Yes, my mother was the housekeeper at their Martha’s
Vineyard estate. I was able to stay with her for the summer.”

“One of them ran for governor.”

“Fortunately, he lost in the primaries.”

“Mark was the politician. If I remember correctly a sex
scandal ended his gubernatorial run.”

“Sadly, he was married. I can’t imagine how hurtful of a
time that’d been for his family.”

“Is Mark the reason you’re afraid of me?” Taran gripped her
hand slightly, offering reassurance when she needed it.

“No, I quickly learned he wasn’t the person I thought he
was.”

“What did he do?”

“He took my heart and my virginity, promising endless love
while his fiancée was interning for a senator in DC,” she confessed, saying it
all quickly.

“You’ll never have to worry about that with me, baby doll,”
he vowed, his confidence indisputable.

“You had a girlfriend when we met. She was gorgeous, a
brunette. You may not remember, but you’d brought her to the precinct.”

“Susan didn’t like being ignored when law school and work
took precedence over dates. We broke it off soon after I stopped by to ask
Ethan to cover the shop for me.”

“You never looked at me when you came by.” And each time he
left with barely a word, it had hurt so much more than she cared to admit.

“I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. Ethan told me about your
need for professionalism when you were on the job and I was honoring it. I did
notice you, doll.”

“It’s all right, Taran,” she said. “I’ve a confession
though.”

“What’s that, doll?”

“The day I helped Phalen rescue Cassie from Michael
Donatelli, you left your cell phone in my car and I scrolled through it. I
can’t even explain why, but I’m sorry about that. It was none of my business to
see who you talked to or considered friends.”

Talk about being intimidated when she’d discovered more than
twenty-five names among his favorites. One of the women had been Catherine
O’Brien, a Dominatrix who’d originally owned Druid Creek Castle over in
Danvers, Massachusetts before Alex Grant and Ryan Hathaway had bought it.

Alex and Ryan had had their own happily ever after not long
ago. Married now, the two had overcome a difficult past that lasted years.

“Reach into my coat pocket and get my phone, please,” Taran
said, breaking her train of thought.

She let go of his hand and felt around his pocket until she
found it.

“Did you want me to call someone for you?”

“Look at my contacts.”

“I already know you took the names off your phone.”

“You looked at it again when I’d loaned the phone to Morgan
back in October. The two of you were huddled in the booth at Book Haven Diner.”

Damn, he’d known. “Were you spying on me?”

“Not exactly, I looked over to make sure the two of you were
okay. Morgan was dealing with her business burning down and she thought Ethan
was pissed at her. I was concerned.”

“You could have told me to mind my own business.”

“I have no secrets from you. On the chance that you’d look
again, I made some changes.”

“My name was number one on your contact list,” she recalled.

“I created different contact lists. Family, friends,
lawyers, paralegals, you name it.”

Curiosity got the better of her. Scrolling through the
lists, she discovered what he’d changed. He’d put her at the head of his
family.

“Taran, I’m not a Maddox. You should put Phalen and Ethan
and Morgan and Cassie way above me.”

“You are the woman I want, Samantha. I love my brothers and
my sisters-in-law, but you are my priority in all things.”

“I’m not great at the whole family thing.”

“Yes, you are. You may have gone off the grid to become a
roller derby babe, but I bet you found a way to make sure Cassie and Morgan and
the babies are fine, yes?”

“I called Eve and Avery daily,” she admitted.

She’d first met Eve when Ethan and Morgan became friends
with a ghost hunter named Remy Sinclair. Avery was Alex Grant’s sister who’d
moved to Massachusetts to work for his husband as a physical therapist.

“Who was it who led the charge to find Cassie when she was
kidnapped? Who did the same for Avery when she dealt with a different psycho?”

“Avery’s situation was more about the perp’s obsession with
her brother Alex than her. I’ll grant you one thing, if he had hurt her or Alex
as he’d planned, I’d have nailed him to the wall.”

“See. You care about people deeply, yet for reasons I’m only
beginning to understand, you’re reluctant to let them see your heart.”

“Fool me twice, shame on me,” she said in turn, knowing it
wasn’t possible to keep her past from him anymore.

“It wasn’t only Mark who betrayed you.”

“No, it was his whole family, predominately his Uncle
James.” It was hard to even say James Cormack’s name.

“When you’re ready, you can trust me with all the details.
You’re tensing up on me and we’re a few minutes away from Framingham.”

“Sorry, you’re right. I am honored to know I’m first on your
list, Taran. Thank you.” Transferring the phone to her right hand, she lowered
it to her lap.

Taran must have noticed the change and reclaimed her left
hand. Bringing it to his chest, he pressed her palm into his chest.

“Feel that beat?” he asked, his heart beating steady and
true in his chest. “It beats for you. That’s where your name is, Samantha.”

Unbidden tears threatened to fall. She blinked to fight
them, but the next thing she knew she had trails running down her cheeks.

“Dammit, don’t cry. I’ll have to pull over.”

“I can’t help it. Why’d you have to turn into a hero, pretty
boy? You’re so much easier to deal with when you’re a pain in the ass.”

“Not sure I’m a hero. I’m simply trying to be the man you
need. Please don’t cry.”

“Morgan and Cassie warned me that it’s best not to cry
around a Maddox.”

“Yeah, my brothers and I don’t deal with it well.”

“You deal with it just fine,” she amended, thinking there
wasn’t any man better than Taran. “If you’re still on for later, my answer is
yes.”

“Don’t say yes because I’m not being a pain in the ass at
the moment. Say yes because it’s what you really want.”

“There’s something you need to know, Taran.” Sam took a deep
breath. It was time to take a chance and trust him.

“What’s that?”

“I like you, all your personalities included.”

“I like you too, Sam.”

“My answer’s still yes.”

“Hallelujah!”

Taran’s hallelujah was cut off by his phone going off.
Before she could answer it for him, Bluetooth transferred the call to the
truck’s state-of-the-art stereo system. He shifted his hand on the steering
wheel and tapped a button.

“Hey, bro,” he answered.

“Hey,” Ethan said, his voice coming over the speaker system.
“Wanted to let you know Morgan and I are heading to Salem for the weekend.”

“What’s the occasion?” Taran asked.

“Cassie and Morgan are shopping for nursery stuff and
maternity clothes.”

“What are you and Phalen going to do?”

“Probably carrying packages and hopefully catching the
Celtics game tomorrow night. We have Guinness, so no worries about the dog.”

Taran laughed. “Better hide your shoes.”

“Why does he need to hide them?” Sam asked.

“Is that my Sam?”

“Yes, Ethan,” Taran answered. “We’re heading to a roller
rink.”

“Seriously, you’re roller skating with my partner?” Ethan questioned.
“She deserves caviar and champagne.”

“Treat her nicely, Taran,” Morgan insisted on her end.

“You know me by now, little sister, Samantha’s safe with
me.”

“I can take care of myself,” Sam interjected. “Why are your
shoes in danger, Ethan?”

“Samson and Delilah blame me for bringing a canine beast
into their abode.”

“Ugh, Cassie and Phalen’s cats don’t leave nasty presents,
do they, Ethan?”

“Nah, they destroy my things, namely my shoes.”

“What about Morgan’s things?”

“They adore her.”

“Have fun and let me know if Morgan or Cassie needs
anything,” Sam offered.

“We will,” Morgan answered back. “Bye, Sam. Taran, lose the
towel.”

“That won’t be an issue. Take care, Morgan, same to Cassie.”
Taran ended the call. “What do you know? We have the brownstone all to
ourselves for the weekend.”

Nervousness took over. It was one thing to say yes. It was
entirely different to contemplate a weekend alone with Taran.

“If I change my mind, what will happen?”

“We’ll talk and see what I can do to change it back to yes.”

“My apartment is ten minutes from the roller rink. Wouldn’t
it be easier to go there than Boston?”

“We’ll thumb wrestle for it later. Route 9 is coming up.” He
let go of her hand to downshift as the truck neared an off ramp. “Where are we
heading?”

“Do you know where the Jordan’s is? The Roller Emporium is
up on that hill behind the furniture store.”

“Have you gone to the IMAX movie theater there?” He eased
the truck onto the off-ramp and they eased into the traffic on Route 9.

“I haven’t been to the IMAX yet. I’d like to go sometime
though.”

Route 9 featured a lot of shopping centers, trendy
restaurants, a Crown Plaza hotel and a smaller motel across from a huge mall in
Natick, which bordered Framingham. Stores in the mall consisted of everything
from standard boutiques to Nordstrom’s, Macy’s, Neiman Marcus and Lord and
Taylor.

As malls went, it had everything anyone needed and more.
Even so, Sam didn’t care for the closed-in feel of malls. She much preferred
going to less-expensive outlet stores or somewhere else.

“Sam? You okay?”

“Sorry, was thinking about shopping. In a couple weeks, I’m
going to need to find roller derby gear and shorts.”

“Are we talking sexy shorts, Sam?”

“Yes, there’s safety equipment too, but even though some of
my teammates have designed matching jerseys for the Femme Fatales to wear,
we’re allowed to add things for individuality.”

“Would you like to go to the movies for our next date? I’d
love to be in on the shopping spree too.”

“I would like both,” she agreed, although she couldn’t say
this was an actual date.

“Since we’re this close, better give me the rundown on
Luke.”

“He’s a sixteen-year-old kid whose father’s in state prison
for drug possession with the intent to manufacture, sell and distribute. He
pled guilty before the case went to the jury and was sentenced to fifteen
years.”

“Plea deals happen frequently,” Taran said.

“According to Luke’s aunt, Russell Walker wanted a jury
trial, but his attorney advised he take the deal. Before the drug bust, he was
a local artisan and part-time high school art teacher.”

“Damn, that’s rough on a kid to find out his dad wasn’t the
man he thought he was.”

“Especially considering Russell was making and distributing
meth out of his workshop behind his home in Wellesley, not paintings.”

“How’d Walker get caught?”

“Shop blew up. Fortunately no one was killed, but you can
imagine the surprise for neighbors to find out what was really being cooked in
that shop.”