The Masters of Falcon's Fantasies [BDSM Menage Fantasies 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (3 page)

“What’s that? Something new?”

“Sweet and sour ravioli.” Allie tried not to seem nervous about her experiment as the scent of the dish wafted through the room. It didn’t smell bad, exactly. Different, definitely. But she’d promised herself when she’d decided to run a bed-and-breakfast that she would be known someday for her unusual but excellent cooking. She was compiling a list of recipes that seemed to work well. Unfortunately, that meant that there had been several that hadn’t. Out of the corner of her eye she caught the expression that passed between her boyfriend and her Master. She twisted out of Brad’s arms and faced the two men.

“Come on, guys.” She put her hands on her hips and tried to look forceful. It usually worked on Brad, who liked to be dominated occasionally, but Karl was the undisputed boss here, and she had to be careful about that.

“Just asking, sweetie. Is that something everybody will like?” Brad rubbed the side of his nose, a sure sign he was uncomfortable.

Allie rounded on Karl. “Did you tell him to say that?”

Karl laughed, holding his hands up to protest his innocence. “Not me.”

Sighing in exasperation, she lifted the lid off a pot that was simmering on the stove. “I also made chicken Alfredo, for those who are too cowardly to try something different.”

“Chicken Alfredo?” Brad leaned in, sniffing appreciatively. Then he noticed Allie’s expression and hastily backed away. “But I’ll bet the ravioli thingies are much better.”

Allie opened her mouth to assure him that they would be, but the connecting door was pushed open, and Finn came in.

“I wanted to apologize for this morning,” he said. “And to see if there was anything I can help with.”

Allie gave him a reassuring smile, although she wanted to point out that it was Daphne, if anyone, who should be apologizing. “I’m just bringing in dinner. You can grab the salad and rolls if you want.”

He went over to the counter, but instead of picking up the food and heading back to the dining room, he grabbed a roll and began picking at it, looking thoughtful and a little disturbed.

“I know Daph can be a handful,” he said after a moment, relieving Allie’s anxious thought that there was something wrong with the bread. “I want you all to know how much I appreciate your willingness to put up with her. I don’t know what’s going on lately. I suspect that it might be the fact that she’ll be turning thirty soon. Maybe she’s feeling like she’s got to prove that she’s still a tough, wild rock star.”

Nobody said anything for a minute as Finn tore a piece off the roll and chewed it. “I’m trying to get through to her that she’s being self-destructive. The record label and her agent are just about to drop her. But she doesn’t really seem to care.”

“Drop her? For being wild? How do any albums get made if the labels are so concerned about that?” Brad asked.

Finn smiled. “Fair enough. But it’s not just the wild behavior. True, she’s shown up for concerts almost too drunk to perform, but that’s not particularly unusual. Their main problem is her—political liabilities, I guess you’d say. She’s causing some problems for people that don’t appreciate it. That’s something I wanted to talk to you guys about. I’m not asking you to watch her 24/7, but if you could help me make sure she doesn’t sneak out or anything. That sounds terrible, I know.” He scrubbed a hand over his forehead and rolled his eyes in exasperation. “God, if I knew I was going to be a fucking babysitter, I would never have taken this job. But she has so much potential, and when she’s focused, she’s absolutely unbelievable. You were there this afternoon. Have you ever seen anybody who could focus her energy the way Daphne can?”

They all stared at him now, unsure of what to say. Finally Karl spoke up. “So you’re saying you want us to keep her from leaving the premises? Because I don’t think—”

“No, no.” Finn cut him off. “She is an adult, even if she doesn’t usually act like it. If you could maybe just take my cell number and call me if it looks like she’s trying to leave. Of course, if she’s acting drunk, you’re certainly within your rights to keep her from driving.” He handed them each a business card then stopped, his head tilting.

“She’s coming down,” he said suddenly, grabbing the salad and rolls and rushing from the room. Allie shook her head silently at her men before picking up two dishes of pasta and following. When she’d explained the dinner options to Daphne and her retinue, ignoring their raised eyebrows at the unusual fare and Daphne’s declaration that she only wanted “a tiny bit of salad,” Allie returned to the kitchen to eat with her own family.

Both men were politely waiting for her to take her place before starting on their meals. They all had wineglasses in front of them, and Brad picked his up in a toast as Allie sat down.

“To a full house,” he said. “Just think, a year ago we weren’t sure if we were going to have any guests at all. Now we’re hosting rock stars. Who’d have thought being featured in
Exotic Adventures Magazine
would have led to this?”

“Speaking of that article, we had a call today from a woman named Susan who seemed terrified to be contacting us. It was kind of funny really, but don’t let me forget to email her some information.”

Allie snorted a bit, but Karl nodded in agreement, holding up his glass. “You’re absolutely right. That article has certainly had unexpected results. This might be a particularly rough group, but at least we’ll learn a lot.”

“No doubt.” Allie took a sip of her wine and put the glass back down. “Can you imagine having his job? And are we really responsible for keeping her from leaving?”

“I suspect Finn won’t let her get more than grabbing distance away.” Karl helped himself to salad.

Brad nodded. “He may not even be letting her go to the bars in town anymore. You can’t go anyplace without hearing about what a scene she made at The Brass Monkey the other night. I hear he had to physically restrain her from taking her clothes off, and people were taking bets on if she was going to give Sam Johnson a blow job right in the middle of the dance floor.”

Allie looked at him in alarm. “What’ll that do to our business? That’s terrible publicity!”

Karl patted her hand. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. She’ll only be here a couple more weeks, according to Finn, and I don’t think it’ll hurt our reputation. We’re not exactly running a band camp, anyway, and a little oral sex is tamer than what’s usually going on here. Most people will just be glad we don’t usually let our guests run amok in the bars.”

“I don’t really see the appeal of women like her. She’s so into herself,” Allie said darkly, finishing her salad and pulling the bowls of pasta toward her.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Brad said, surprisingly. “I think she’s really insecure, underneath that rebel Goth-chick veneer. Finn was probably right about her freaking out about turning thirty. That’s got to be rough on someone like her.”

Allie scowled a little but didn’t point out that she had recently turned thirty herself. Instead, she dished herself out a generous helping of the ravioli then gave each of the men a similar helping. Brad stared at his plate a little dubiously.

“You can have chicken Alfredo
after
you’ve tried the ravioli,” Allie told him sternly. She glanced at Karl, but he was eating salad as if the dinner debate had nothing to do with him at all.

Remembering Chuck’s request, Allie repeated the story about Dave’s cousin who was hoping to come and stay with them. “Although he’ll probably take one look at what’s going on and run the other way.”

Karl chuckled. “I’ve met him, if it’s Decker he was referring to. I heard the story about his slave. They say it was a very tragic thing, and Decker took it really hard. I believe he’s been on a leave of absence from work. From what I hear, he felt he couldn’t concentrate properly and didn’t want to endanger people.”

“Endanger people? What does he do?” Allie asked, forgetting her annoyance with Daphne.

“Airline pilot.” Karl took a bite of ravioli. He chewed it slowly, as if savoring the flavor, then tilted his head to one side, considering the result. “Not bad,” he told Allie, whose breathing had stopped momentarily. She looked at Brad in triumph, but he still appeared skeptical of her culinary inventiveness. She continued to glare at him until he gave in and took a bite.

His face went through a few different expressions before he finally nodded. “It’s not horrible.”

Allie began formulating an indignant response, but Karl smiled and laid a hand on her arm. “Not everyone is going to appreciate your creativity in the kitchen. And Brad wasn’t used to anything unconventional before moving out here with you. Now there’s almost nothing left in his life that
is
conventional. You’ve got to give him credit for trying things.”

Allie thought about it, trying not to wonder if the laughter coming from the dining room was in response to the food. She felt a pang of anxiety, imagining merciless critiques of her cooking posted on the internet.

But when she went to collect their dishes she noted that the ravioli was completely gone. Of course, so was the chicken Alfredo, all of the rolls, and most of the salad. Two of the band members, whom Allie thought of as the “nice ones,” were looking sadly at the table, as if they might never get to see food again. The third was leaning back, tilting a bottle of wine to his lips to get the last drop, and laughing uproariously. He wore a black T-shirt with the sleeves cut off, and flames were tattooed up both of his arms.

“Hey, Blaze, give me some. Don’t hog it all!” Daphne made a lunge for the bottle, bumping her plate. Everybody jumped as a glass flew across the table, spraying water everywhere. Allie took one look and turned back for a towel to clean up the mess, shaking her head.

Once order was restored, the two nice boys, whose names Allie could never remember, helped her clear the dishes. They seemed to be eager to get away from the table, or maybe it was just to go into the kitchen to see if there was any more food. Their faces lit up when Allie handed them a heaping plate of brownies.

“Take those out the back if you want. But hold on a second first.” She grabbed two off the plate for Brad and Karl before they disappeared, and then a third for herself. The boys took the brownies with a whoop of delight and headed for the door.

There were raised voices coming from the dining room, and Allie squared her shoulders as she returned to see what new trouble Daphne was causing. Brad and Karl were right behind her.
Okay, we can handle this.

“Come on, man,” Blaze was saying. He had an arm around Daphne, who was looking speculatively at Finn. Finn stood with his arms crossed, blocking their way to the front door.

“Why can’t we go out?” Daphne looked a bit unsteady on her feet again. She swayed toward her manager, reaching out a plaintive hand as if to paw at his shirt.

“Because we have work to do tonight.” Finn’s voice was stern. “And you’ve already had too much to drink. How many bottles did you and Blaze put away before dinner? You need to stay sharp and get enough sleep so you don’t collapse again. Remember what the doctor said? You’re pushing it already, trying to get this music video wrapped up and all the songs for your new album written in a month. You don’t need to be out partying every night.”

Daphne put a sexy pout on her face but then ruined the effect by giggling. “You’re such a spoilsport.” She allowed Blaze to pull her back into his arms, although she slapped at the hand that was caressing her ass. It stopped caressing but wandered back to the same place a minute later. Daphne didn’t seem to notice.

Blaze gave Finn a triumphant leer and tried to move past him. “Come on, baby. He’s not your daddy. You’re old enough, and rich enough, to live the way you want to. You don’t need him.” They took another step.

“Daphne, if you leave tonight, I’m quitting.”

Daphne stopped, her expression clearing. Allie wondered if she’d really been drunk, or just playing. Now she stood upright and twisted out of Blaze’s arms to face Finn. Blaze swore.

“You wouldn’t do that.” Her voice was strong, but there was a hint of pleading in it. If she was calling his bluff, she wasn’t being very convincing about it.

“Yes, I will. I’ve had enough of you sneaking off and going—” Finn’s voice trailed off and he glanced at the trio standing on the other side of the table. “Anyway, if you want to drink yourself to death, go ahead. If that’s your choice, I won’t try to stop you anymore. But I’m not going to follow you around and watch. And I’m sure as hell not going to help you.”

“All right! Problem solved. Come on, Daph.” Blaze grabbed Daphne’s arm and pulled her toward the door. His other hand planted itself on her breast as he leaned in to kiss her. Finn took a step forward, his hands balling into fists, but Daphne held up a hand.

She turned her face away from Blaze, pushing him back firmly. “Not now. Daddy’s right. We can party later. Maybe after he goes to sleep.” She stepped squarely between the two men and nodded at Finn, who was beginning to sputter. “Lighten up. I was joking. Okay, let’s get to work then, slave driver. Allie, can you bring us some coffee? It’s going to be a long night.”

“Shit. I’m going to go find me some action.” Blaze stomped out of the house, and a minute later they heard the roar of his motorcycle.

“I’ll go call the Grandpointe Police Department and give them a heads-up,” Brad muttered, watching the cloud of dust as Blaze flew down the driveway. Daphne stopped on her way to the stairs.