Kathryn had the key to escape the hot prison walls of Jake Russo. She always did. The key to walk away from the endless warmth of his eyes, the magnetic draw of his solid build, the tender trap of his touch. A key that would free her—if only for the moment. But a moment was what she needed. To be free.
From him.
“Red,” she said so softly she wasn’t sure he heard it. But by the look in his eyes, he did.
The fire that always blazed bright for her behind those hazel eyes dimmed. The closeness between them cooled. But his hand stayed wrapped around her arm, holding her in place as his forehead lowered to hers. Every word he spoke rumbled through her, stirring every piece of her existence to heed him.
“This isn’t over. Listen very carefully, little kitten. I’ll stop for the moment because you have that power. You always have and you always will. But make no mistake, I might be releasing you, but I’m not letting you go. You’re mine.”
Jake slipped an arm past her, barely touching her side as he opened the door. It was enough for her to take a needed step back.
Why did the emptiness between them feel colder in that moment? She could have said she wanted to talk. Agreed to meet with him later. But she wasn’t about to, and he knew that. He knew it and did what he always did . . . insisted on not letting her go.
In an instant, his hand unlocked its grip around her arm, giving her everything she asked for and nothing she wanted. The freedom to walk away.
Already half regretting her short steps away, she hurried, desperate to put more distance between them. To breathe.
Breathing was hard enough when Jake’s body was pressed up against her, but with him gone, her chest tightened until she felt like she was suffocating. Slowly, Kathryn became aware of the low murmurs of the class, the uncomfortable rustling of students eager to get started.
She untwisted the knots inside herself and with each step, fought her way through the quicksand of emotions holding her back, eventually making her way behind the lectern. Glancing at the open doorway, she discovered Jake had gone.
Over the next hour, Kathryn broke up her boring-as-shit lectures with several exercises that would give the students just the type of hands-on learning they craved. For the most part, these were nurses—my people—each with their own calling to do more for others than they did for themselves.
Even the dark-haired beauty in the back. Other than Jake, Andi was the only other student who wasn’t a nurse.
For the love of God, why does she have to be so sweet? Look at her. Without a partner, quietly watching others, practicing on her own goddamn arm.
“Let me help,” Kathryn said before she could stop herself.
“Thanks. The angle was a little hard like this.”
Kathryn swept away Andi’s guilt and offered her own arm. “It is,” she said, remembering. It was how she’d practiced.
Back then, everyone practiced on patients. It never seemed right.
How were nurses supposed to learn if they didn’t understand that the slightest shift in angle and pressure made all the difference? Knowing what you were doing made you confident. Made you a better nurse. Maybe made you a better sub.
Just as Jake had, Kathryn yelped with the initial prick of the sharp point of the needle. Andi froze. “That’s it,” Kathryn said, reassuring her. “You’re doing fine.”
The relief on Andi’s face was apparent, her lips lifting to an unsure smile as her stress melted away. “I’m sorry you have to get stuck with me. Literally. I didn’t realize Jake couldn’t make class.”
“Yeah, he, uh, couldn’t stay.”
It was easy to see why Andi would make the perfect sub. She was warm. Attentive. Took to the details. Was more than eager to please. It was like some part of her was naturally inclined to serve. Craving it, even. And that was the reason why she’d make the perfect nurse, though she wasn’t. Add to that she had legs going on for days, and a slender body that probably wouldn’t quit.
“I don’t get much practice at the pharmacy,” Andi said.
“Mostly vaccines?” Kathryn asked.
Andi nodded, concentrating. Kathryn kept an eye on her work. Watching Andi fill a single vial, undo the tourniquet, remove the needle, and smile.
Her big dark eyes looked at Kathryn with childlike eagerness. “How’d I do?”
“Well . . .” Kathryn sighed, looking for even the tiniest excuse to find a flaw in what had been done. But she couldn’t. “You did well.”
A rush of air whooshed from Andi’s lips. “Oh, good.” With both her hands, she held her heart. “I was so nervous. Worried I’d let you down.”
Oh, for Christ’s sake.
“Class is over for today,” Kathryn announced, so ready for this to be over. “You all did great. See you back here on Tuesday.”
With a painfully wide smile that showed every last one of her teeth, Andi smoothed a hand over Kathryn’s.
“I have a feeling we’ll see each other before Tuesday.” Andi leaned her Vegas showgirl body in, whispering, “Saturday. Club Lazarus. I have a collar with your name on it.”
“You . . . have a collar for me?”
“Mm-hmm. I don’t want to spoil the surprise, but maybe you should wear something red. I’ll bet you look great in red.”
If Andi was trying to be sweet, she’d succeeded. Overly so. Like when you sprinkle a little extra stevia in your tea. No matter how much you convince yourself it’s fine, it just ends up leaving the wrong taste in your mouth.
Not unlike this. And the rushed side hug before Andi raced out of the room made it all the more awkward.
Watching her leave, Kathryn sighed.
She loved Jake. She did. Truly loved him with all her heart. And there might have been a chance he could have kept her and had a sub on the side.
Like, if he kept me as his prisoner. Or when hell froze over.
Because there was no way on God’s green earth that was happening. His chances of being struck by lightning while simultaneously winning the lottery and bowling a strike were a trillion times greater.
And not just because she wasn’t into polygamy, which she wasn’t. Or free expression. Which she completely was. But the thought of a sub on the side ranked up there with menthol cigarettes, six-inch heels, or Brazilian wax jobs. Great for some people, just not for her.
Kathryn grabbed her purse and fished the preference sheet from it, along with a pen.
So I carry the preference sheet with me? Don’t judge. I might find a random type of kink that interests me. And if I don’t write it down when I’m thinking of it, I’ll forget.
When she got to the part of the list that asked about multiple partners, she thought long and hard for almost a second. With a big fat check, she filled in the only box that made sense for her.
Hard. Limit.