L
andon swiped his brow with his forearm, staring at but not seeing the digital display on the treadmill. Tomorrow was the big day. Nayla was going home. And he was dreading saying goodbye.
For the better part of a week, he had spent almost every waking—and sleeping—moment with the fascinating woman, and it still didn’t feel like nearly enough time.
He wanted more.
Jabbing the button to increase the incline, he strode faster, his thigh muscles beginning to burn, his bad knee aching.
They had settled into a routine, of sorts, and he had slowly introduced her to his way of doing things. To his astonishment, she had taken to most of his rules like a duck to water. She was careful to make healthy choices at mealtimes. Well, he corrected himself, healthier. She was drinking more water. She performed little tasks he set her without complaint. Wanting to get her to find a way to relax without depending on him, he had asked that she spend at least thirty minutes every afternoon coloring at the little desk in the corner of her room.
While she had rolled her eyes at first, and muttered something about being ‘too old’ and it being ‘just for kids’, the coloring book she had scored during their trick or treat excursion actually contained some gorgeous pictures, and not even ten minutes in, her brow had been creased in concentration, her tongue clenched between her teeth as she worked to add bright, shimmering colors to the mandala. Stubborn little minx that she was, she wouldn’t admit how much she enjoyed it, but it was clear in the way she set about it without complaint when he told her to every afternoon. Even now, while he was in the gym, she was up in her room, finishing up a picture she had started yesterday.
Landon smiled to himself.
The mantra, too, had been easier than he’d anticipated. Every night, just before she fell asleep, he made her say a few lines he’d set her. Hearing her whisper them fervently in her sweet voice in the darkness made an indescribable warmth and pride settle around his heart.
Of course, it hadn’t all been smooth sailing. The first time he’d left her alone to go down to the gym, he’d returned to find her on her laptop, so engrossed in whatever she was doing that she hadn’t even heard him come in.
Until he’d bellowed and she’d fairly levitated off the bed. Guilt had made her defensive, and she’d given him a long, angry explanation, telling him that he didn’t understand what a vital role she played in her company, how demanding some of their clients were but that they paid so well, they had to be kept happy, and so on and so forth until Landon hadn’t even had the energy to punish her. Instead he’d reminded her that the rule had been for her benefit, to give her some time to relax, and maybe to realize that there was more to life than just work. “If anything ever happened to you, they’d be seeking your replacement before you were even in the ground,” he’d snapped angrily, and she’d simply stared at him with those huge green eyes, the color draining from her face.
Unable to bear that expression of utter hurt, he’d yanked her into his arms and kissed the top of her head before apologizing.
They hadn’t mentioned it again.
Later, he’d wondered whether she’d let him catch her deliberately. After all, many submissives liked to break rules on purpose to garner a punishment, or to test their Dom’s strength—or both. But her absolute dedication to her job was unhealthy and, worse, didn’t seem to be giving her much satisfaction, if any.
A heavy hand on his shoulder startled Landon out of his reverie and he turned his head to see Sam grinning at him. “So this is where you’ve been hiding! Should have guessed.”
Turning off the treadmill, Landon picked up the towel he’d slung over the rail and wiped his face. “Hardly hiding,” he said. “Just making sure my knee doesn’t get stiff.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t explain where you spend the remaining twenty-three hours in a day. Marshall got you working overtime?”
“Actually, I’ve been with my new… assignment
.” As he said it, Landon realized what a shitty descriptor that was for Nayla. Nor was client
any better. She was so much more than that. He glanced around. “Do you have a few minutes? I could do with a chat.”
“That bad, huh? Sure.” Sam followed him to the empty locker room and they both sat down on one of the benches.
Landon cleared his throat, unsure how to begin. “How do you… keep from catching feelings?” he said at length.
Sam raised a dark eyebrow. “Not sure I understand the question.”
Shoving a hand through his hair, Landon sighed. “Nayla’s the first girl who’s been… assigned to me. As a client. And I find myself caring about her. More than I think I should. Is that normal? I mean, surely a Castle Master has to care
about the people he looks after, but how do you tell the difference between that and… more? Fuck, I don’t know how to phrase any of this shit.” He turned to meet Sam’s gaze. “How did you know Hannah was different to the other girls you played with or fucked?”
“Christ,” Sam said, shaking his head, his ponytail swishing. “That’s a tough one to answer. I just knew.”
“Not very helpful. Maybe it’s because she’s my first. Maybe it’s because I don’t have anybody to compare her with. Shit, I don’t know.”
Sam slung an arm around Landon’s shoulders. “Honestly, I think you’re putting too much weight on the whole ‘role’ thing. She’s not your first. Christ, you were married
before! You’re not some teenager with his first girlfriend.”
Landon suppressed a smile. The strange thing was, Nayla did make him feel that way sometimes.
“Sure, we care about our clients the same way we care about anybody else,” Sam went on. “We want to ensure their safety, we want to make them happy—hell, if the chemistry is right, we want to fuck them! But that’s no different to any other girl we might pick up at a club. You’ve played with plenty of other women. If you feel differently about this one, then I say you should go with your gut.”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m reading too much into everything. Maybe it’s just because I haven’t spent so much time with one woman since Janine left.”
Sam shrugged. “Or maybe this girl is… the one.” He waggled his eyebrows and Landon rolled his eyes.
“She’s leaving tomorrow,” he said. “So that will be that. She’ll go back to her uber-important career, and I’ll get assigned to the next one.”
“This is Granger, not fucking Mars,” Sam said. “If it’s meant to be, things have a strange way of working out.”
Landon barked out a short laugh. When it came to Nayla and how devoted she was to her job, no matter where she was, it might as well be Mars. “I guess,” he said. “Thanks, man.”
Sam’s expression was serious again. “She’s really gotten under your skin,” he said slowly. “I have to meet this girl. Come join us for dinner tonight. In the Private Dining Room. Eight o’clock.”
Landon considered. It was his last night with Nayla, but then, he’d hardly seen Sam since he’d arrived at the Castle. “All right,” he said at length. “But don’t go getting your hopes up or anything. Like I said, she’ll be on the bus tomorrow.”
The mere thought made his heart ache. Sam was right. She really had gotten under his skin.
And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
Nayla was so nervous,
she was on the verge of actually trembling. When Landon had told her they’d be having dinner with his brother and Hannah, her first instinct had been to say no. It was their last evening together. She’d wanted to do something special, alone with Landon. But he’d seemed so excited at the prospect, and she was curious about seeing inside the so-called Masters’ Private Dining Room, a place off-limits to most guests. It would only be for an hour or two at most, she figured, and then they’d escape back to her room, or the Dungeon, or anywhere, really, as long as they were together.
Once he’d returned from the gym, Landon had taken her to Wardrobe as well as the in-house salon, and she had to admit she looked amazing. The pale pink, gauzy, floor-length Grecian-style gown he’d chosen for her was fastened at one shoulder and hugged her body in all the right places. The no underwear rule was still in effect, but pink kitten heels and a rose gold bangle around her upper arm completed the outfit. Her red-blonde curls had been pinned up and filled with tiny pink rosebuds, and the makeup artist had worked wonders with bronze and black liner to make her eyes look huge. She felt like a Greek goddess.
Landon, too, had dressed differently for a change—a Roman gladiator costume showed off his tanned muscles, and the wide cuffs on his wrists kept drawing her eyes to his sexy hands.
“Is anybody else going to be there?” she asked, chewing her bottom lip as she followed him through the restaurant.
“Probably. Relax, sweetie, you’re going to be fine. But that reminds me. Come here.” Dropping her hand, he tugged her towards him, then reached into his pocket. “Lift up the front of your dress.”
Nayla stared at him. They were in the middle of the packed restaurant. There were people everywhere. “Here?”
“That’s what I said.”
Releasing a shaky breath, she closed her eyes and did as he asked, lifting the hem to her knees.
“Higher. Unless you want me to bend you over the nearest table and spank you right here, in front of everyone?”
Biting back a retort—she’d probably prefer a spanking over being forced to come in full view of all the diners—she made herself obey and felt the whisper of cool air over her exposed sex.
“Good girl. Keep your eyes closed.”
“I don’t think I could open them right now even if you ordered me to.” Her face was on fire.
With a dark chuckle, he slid a hand between her legs and she felt something slick and greasy being applied to her clit and labia a moment before the smell reached her nostrils.
Tiger Balm.
Once he’d deemed everything adequately coated—and she was quivering from his expert fingertips on her taut bud—he pressed a brief kiss to her lips. “You can let go now.”
The hem of her dress slid back to the floor with a rustle, and she opened her eyes to see him grinning at her. “Recognize the smell?”
“Yes, Sir. Tiger Balm.”
His grin became wolfish. “Has it started yet?”
“The first tingles.”
“Good. Let me know when you need a refresher.”
I most certainly will not
, she thought vehemently as he once more took her hand and led her to a door at the back of the restaurant.
Already the heat was spreading through her private parts. From experience, she knew that it would only burn hotter and hotter until she could barely sit still, but the pain was a strangely arousing kind, and the longer the sensation endured, the wetter she would be. How was she supposed to concentrate on making a good impression on people when she was being distracted by that?
Withdrawing a key from his pocket, Landon unlocked the door and ushered her inside.
Several people were seated at a long table, all of them turning to see who had just arrived. “This is Nayla,” Landon said, and Nayla wondered if she’d imagined the hint of pride in his voice. “Sweetie, go sit over there next to Silver. I just have to go wash my hands. Be right back.”
A stunning blonde lifted her fingers in greeting and patted the empty seat beside her. Before Nayla could beg Landon not to go right away, he’d vanished through another door.
Fuck
.
An impossibly handsome blond guy beside the woman who’d waved gave Nayla a wide, menacing smile. “I see you found your way out of the maze, little unicorn.”
“You’re the wolf!” Nayla said in sudden recognition, and there was a smattering of laughter.
“Amongst other things.” He winked. “Come and sit down. I don’t bite… hard.”
Blushing to the roots of her hair, Nayla picked her way behind the occupied chairs and settled herself nervously beside the gorgeous blonde girl.
“This is Silver,” the wolf—Master Trevor
, she mentally corrected herself—said, “and this is my brother, Travis.”
“Oh wow,” Nayla breathed, wondering for a moment whether she was seeing double, as Travis was absolutely identical to Trevor. “You’re twins.”
“Lovely to meet you, Nayla,” Silver said in an Australian accent. “Gorgeous dress.”
“Thank you,” Nayla said shyly.
“I’m Sam,” said the hunky man sitting opposite her, whom Nayla recognized instantly. “I feel like we’ve met before?”
“I’ve been here a few times. Not here, in this room,” she added hastily, “but here at the Castle. I’ve seen you around, I think.”
“You probably have,” Sam said, not unkindly. “This is Hannah.” The lovely, slender brunette beside him gave her a smile. “And let me apologize on my brother’s behalf for dumping you in a room full of strangers then taking off without even making introductions.” He rolled his eyes.
“Like I said,” Landon said, appearing beside Nayla to her utter relief, “I had to wash my hands.”
“I thought I could smell Tiger Balm,” Travis said to peals of laughter, and Nayla wished the ground would just swallow her up.
“Like you’ve never used it,” Landon shot back, unfazed. “Takes a connoisseur to know one.”
“The banter takes a bit of getting used to,” Silver whispered in Nayla’s ear, “but they don’t mean it unkindly. It’s their way of accepting you.”
Reaching down, Nayla squeezed the blonde’s hand in gratitude. Then she took a deep breath and looked around properly for the first time.
The room was certainly impressive. Big enough to comfortably hold twenty or so people, it was lit by flickering torches, and the wall above the fireplace was dominated by a huge, erotic, oil painting of Roman soldiers and slave girls. Authentic-looking pillars completed the historical effect.
Glancing around the table, she saw a few people she thought looked familiar, none of whom she had ever formally met before.
“Thank you for agreeing to come have dinner with us,” Sam said, giving her a wide, genuine smile. “Landon tells me you’re going home tomorrow?”
“I am,” she said, trying—and failing—to ignore the pang in her heart as she said it.
“Duty calls,” Landon added. There was no missing the bitter note in his voice.
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Work?”
Nayla nodded.
“What do you do?”
“I’m an accountant.”
Hannah whistled. “I admire people who are good with numbers.”
“I enjoy it…” Nayla trailed off and gave a self-conscious shrug, wishing they could change the subject—as long as it didn’t revert back to Tiger Balm. Already the tingling had begun to die down. She’d been so distracted by her surroundings, she’d barely noticed it.
“Nayla here’s a bit of a workaholic,” Landon said in the same snarky tone he’d used before.
Opening her mouth to protest, Nayla was saved by Sam. “There’s nothing wrong with being dedicated to your career. As you probably remember,” he told Landon pointedly.
There was a long, awkward pause, during which Nayla bit back the urge to defend herself. She and Landon had had long, arduous conversations about her job—or rather, her lack of any kind of life outside of what she did for a living. But the more she defended herself, the more she was secretly wondering if he maybe had a point.
Truth be told, she hadn’t been missing it all that much over the past few days. She’d had one moment of weakness and checked her laptop while he’d been at the gym, but his reaction when he’d caught her had been worse than anything he could have done to her with a cane or whip.
“I think we should go get ourselves some food,” Landon said tightly, turning to her. “You coming, doll?”
“Sure.” She wasn’t really hungry but maybe when they returned from the buffet, the tension in the room would have evaporated somewhat, and their dinner companions would have moved on to other, more bearable subjects than her career and the fact that it was her last evening.
Once they were out of the others’ earshot, Landon turned to her. “Sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I didn’t mean to sound so… derisive.”
“Thank you for apologizing,” Nayla said. “And it’s okay.” She forced herself to smile. “It’s not like I didn’t already know how you feel about my work.”
Setting the plate he’d picked up back down, he reached out and took her shoulders. “Listen to me, sweetheart,” he said. “I want to make one thing clear. I don’t have a problem with your job. I wouldn’t give a damn what you did for a living—as long as it wasn’t the only thing in your life, and as long as you weren’t being taken advantage of.”
Were the partners really taking advantage of her? Unwilling to dive down that particular rabbit hole, she said, “I understand. But hey, it’s my last evening. Can we just try to enjoy it and stay off the serious stuff?”
He looked at her for a long time, his velvet brown eyes searching, boring straight into her very soul. Then he gave her his now-familiar, breathtaking smile. “We have a deal.” Leaning close, he whispered in her ear, “As long as you make sure to eat a healthy serving of vegetables.”
Nayla giggled. “As long as I get dessert. Two helpings.”
Landon rolled his eyes and kissed her affectionately. “Brat.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. Thank you, Sir.”
With a much lighter heart, Nayla picked up a plate and headed to the salad bar. Maybe this would turn out to be a good evening after all.
