Chapter Twelve

Skye sat bolt upright, groping for his alarm clock, but his bedside table had disappeared in the night. There was a crack of light seeping from beneath the bathroom door—which had moved from where it was supposed to be. It took a few seconds of mild panic before realization dawned.

“Luke’s room. I’m in Luke’s bed.” Skye touched the collar around his throat for reassurance. “Oh my God, I’m in Luke’s bed!” The bathroom door swung open and Luke appeared, framed by the light.

“Good morning, Skye. I’m sorry if I woke you. I’m just getting ready to go out for a run, but it’s still early. You should go back to sleep.”

“What time is it?” Luke’s running gear was very fitted and Skye needed a distraction as his cock tried to plump in its cage.

“Just after five. I usually go out about now, run for forty-five minutes or so and come in for a shower before breakfast. I should have warned you I was an early riser.”

“That sounds very…energetic, Sir.” Skye yawned. Rain pattered against the window panes and he didn’t envy Luke his trip into a wet, cold predawn morning. “You’re going to get soaked.”

Luke chuckled. “Running is not for everyone, but I enjoy it. It gives me a bit of thinking time before the chaos of the day and I’m not afraid of a bit of mud and water.” Skye didn’t think Luke was afraid of anything. He watched while Luke laced his running shoes. “What kind of exercise do you enjoy? You can always use the pool when it’s not full of guests.”

“I don’t swim, Sir.” In his drowsy state, Skye almost gave Luke a detailed explanation of that statement but clamped his mouth shut at the last minute. The knowing look in Luke’s eyes told him that he wouldn’t be able to remain silent on the subject forever but for now, he was getting a free pass because Luke moved to the door.

“I’ll see you at breakfast. Get some more rest.”

He left and Skye flopped onto his back for a luxurious stretch. He felt much better. He was still a little tired, but the headache had gone and there was no trace of nausea. There was no way he was ever going to get back to sleep, so he headed into the bathroom for a hot shower.

Washed, brushed and dressed Skye made his way to the kitchen just before six o’clock. The next hour passed in a blur as he caught up with his friends, reassuring them that he was better and brushing off their requests for him to sit down and take a break. Luke returned, flushed and damp-haired from the shower, and took his seat at the head of the table. Every now and again his penetrating gaze would reach Skye, sending pleasurable shivers down his spine.

“I hope you had a good run, Sir.” Skye spoke in a brief moment of calm.

“You’re completely mad going out in this weather,” Tor observed. “Give me a nice dry gym any day.”

“Each to his own,” Luke replied. “It was refreshing, thank you, Skye. You’d be welcome to come with me on another day.”

“That’s kind of you, Sir.” Skye scrambled for an excuse not to accept the offer. “But I think I’d slow you down too much.”

“Nice save, Skye.” Tor grinned.

Once the meal was over and the dishes cleared away, Luke asked Rayne and Tor to stay behind. He placed a fresh copy of the contract on the table.

“Skye and I would like you both to act as our witnesses. Now seems to be as good a time as any.” He laid a silver fountain pen on the table before pulling Skye onto his lap.

“No doubts or reservations from either of you?” Tor asked.

Skye shook his head, trying not to bounce with excitement.

“None.” Luke wrapped both his arms around Skye’s waist. Tor signed the papers then pushed them across to Rayne.

“Aw, you two are so cute together I can’t bear it.” Rayne scrawled his signature without hesitation. “There, now you’re official. Congratulations!”

Tor leaned across the table to shake Luke’s hand. He gave Skye a wink. “For once, I’m in agreement with the imp. Congratulations to both of you and good luck, because now the hard work begins.”

Skye snuggled against Luke’s chest. He wasn’t afraid of hard work and he was prepared to do whatever he had to, to make a go of things.

“Thank you both,” Luke said with a rare smile. “We have a business to run and guests to please.” He lifted Skye from his lap and gave him a gentle kiss. “When you’re done with the guests’ breakfast I want you to take a rest for a while, even if you just sit in the snug with a book for an hour.”

“Yes, Sir.” Skye suspected that Luke would be checking up on him.

“I’ll make sure he takes a break,” Tor said, grinning. “I’ve got a bottle of water in the fridge for you too. You need to keep drinking while you’re working. If you feel thirsty, then it’s too late and you’ll be heading back toward dehydration again.”

“Good advice,” Luke said as he left the kitchen. “Make sure you follow it, Skye.”

“I will. I don’t want to get sick again.”

“None of us want that!” Rayne piped up. “This place isn’t the same without you around.” He caught Tor’s eye. “I know, I know…get my cute little butt to the garage. I’m going.”

“Less cute, more in need of another spanking,” Tor murmured on his way to the kitchen.

Skye smiled, glad that everything was back to normal.

 

* * * *

 

The guests’ breakfast meant another round of explanations and gratitude for their well wishes. Skye would have liked to hide in the kitchen, but everyone arrived at once and it was all he could do to keep up with the demand for Tor’s cooking. The entire tribe was heading to the dungeon for the day to follow through with some plot they had cooked up at dinner the night before. Fergus and Henry were joining them and had made sure the fridges down there had been well stocked with bottled water and juices.

Once he had cleared, Skye thought he’d be safe until he needed to set up for lunch, so he made his way to the snug where he found Goran pottering around behind the bar.

“Hey, Skye. Are you here on an enforced rest break?”

Skye nodded. “I won’t be in your way, will I?”

“Not at all. In fact, I’m almost done here so you can have some peace and quiet. I’m going to hit the gym to work off some of Tor’s calories. The guests are all in the dungeon, aren’t they?”

“Yes, they went down en masse while I was clearing the breakfast things.” Settling in a chair near the bookcases, Skye scooped the local newspaper off the table in front of him to have a browse. He wasn’t in the mood for anything heavy. Serving breakfast had worn him out more than he had expected.

The main news story was about a tractor shedding its load of turnips across a main road, causing traffic chaos. It didn’t get more exciting than that, but Skye found it soothing to read about the everyday goings-on in the villages dotted in and around the forest. He scanned the vacancies page, curious to see what kind of work opportunities there were. Most ads seemed to be for retail positions or for a range of roles in hotels and guesthouses. One listing caught his eye, though.

 

Researcher/historian required for ongoing projects. Can be home-based. Some local travel required. Email for further information.

 

Then it gave an email address. Skye nibbled on his lower lip, wondering what the projects might be about, the description was so vague. It wouldn’t hurt to send an email, but he would ask Luke about it first. He had a job, after all, and had no intention of letting anyone down so soon after starting at The Retreat.

The room was warm and a shaft of sunlight fell across Skye’s body. Goran had departed without him noticing and now his eyelids drooped. He let them close thinking that it would do no harm to doze for a while. It was quiet in the snug, far enough away from other parts of the house that sound didn’t travel. He drifted into a state where he wasn’t asleep but not quite awake either. He could picture Tor, Benjy and Frank working away in the kitchen, Goran roaming the wine cellar, Fergus and Henry getting up to Lord knew what in the dungeon with their guests, Rayne tinkering in the garage and Luke working in his office. In Skye’s imagination, Luke’s hair was tousled, his dark-rimmed spectacles balanced on his nose. He had no shirt on and wore tight leather trousers rather than his usual smart slacks. Skye chuckled. Luke in leather would be a dream come true. It might not be realistic but they were his dreams and he was entitled to populate them in any way he fancied. He shifted as his cage applied uncomfortable pressure to his cock, which had responded to his fantasies in an entirely predictable way. He unzipped his fly, slipping his hand into his underwear to fondle the metal imprisoning his dick. It had significant weight but wasn’t uncomfortable. Its presence alone was enough to color his daydreams.

Gradually, he became aware of someone else in the room. A slight shift in the air, a rustle of fabric then the creak of antique furniture followed by the drift of a vanilla scent beneath his nostrils. Reluctant to let go of the pictures in his head, Skye was in no rush to open his eyes, but the pull of curiosity was too strong.

Once his sleep-blurred vision came into focus, he discovered Luke sitting in the chair next to him. “Oh! Sir… I’m sorry. I was just resting my eyes.”

“From the smile on your face, I’d love to know what it was you were dreaming about… And what you think you’re doing with that hand?”

Skye gasped, yanking his hand from his trousers before zipping his fly with embarrassing haste. “I wasn’t asleep, Sir, just daydreaming… About you.” Skye couldn’t bring himself to meet Luke’s gaze after such an admission. Luke placed a finger beneath his chin and tilted his head up.

“I’m glad to be so inspiring.”

Flustered, Skye moved to his knees. “Is there anything I can do for you, Sir?” He fixed his eyes on the bulge in Luke’s trousers.

Luke stroked his hair. “Only if you want to.”

Skye couldn’t imagine anything he wanted more. He nuzzled Luke’s thigh before reaching for his zipper with trembling fingers. Nervous as he was, it was still just the work of a moment to free Luke’s cock, which proved to have a slight curve. Skye ran his fingers from root to tip in reverence, memorizing every ridge and vein. Luke shifted, parting his legs wider to give Skye better access. Skye in turn shuffled on his knees to get closer.

“Hands behind your back,” Luke growled. “I really need to get into the habit of carrying handcuffs with me.”

Skye clasped his hands behind his back, lacing his fingers together in tight formation so he didn’t forget Luke’s order in the heat of the moment. He peeked at Luke from beneath his lashes, seeking permission to continue. Luke’s brief nod was all he needed.

First, Skye circled the plump head of Luke’s cock with his tongue, letting the flavor settle on his taste buds. He breathed deeply, taking in Luke’s unique scent—not wanting to deny any of his senses. Above him, Luke grumbled. He twined his fingers in Skye’s hair, tugging him closer. Skye let Luke guide him, taking his shaft into his mouth, enjoying the solid weight on his tongue. Luke didn’t force him or try to make him take more than he was ready for.

Relaxing, Skye steadied his breathing and ducked his head. He gagged a little, recovered, then tried again, taking Luke as deep as he could. He sucked hard, relishing the sensation of his lips pressing into Luke’s soft skin to find the hardness beneath. He lapped at the head before dipping forward again. This time, Luke held him in place for a few seconds before allowing him to move. Skye, trusting that Luke would never push him too hard too soon, focused on applying pressure with his lips. Luke’s cock still hadn’t reached his throat.

Next time. Skye put all his concentration into giving Luke pleasure. He sucked and licked until his jaw ached and when Luke pushed deep into his throat, he swallowed. It was such a strange sensation, but he had no time to think about it because Luke’s muscles tensed. His grip on Skye’s hair tightened. Seconds later he came, his seed coating Skye’s tongue in salt-sweet heat.

Skye stayed where he was, waiting for Luke to loosen his hold. He lapped at his shaft and listened as Luke sighed with satisfaction. Skye knew how he felt, his own rush of pleasure when Luke came was as great as if he had orgasmed himself. His whole body warmed with the knowledge that he had brought his Dominant to release. The ache as his dick attempted to swell in the chastity device nudged at the edges of his awareness, but it didn’t detract from his attention, which was entirely on Luke. A slight tug on his hair told Skye he could move. He knelt back on his heels and raised his eyes to meet Luke’s, anxious to see some sign that he had pleased him.

Luke’s face was flushed, his eyes bright and he smiled. He tucked his dick away and tidied his clothes before patting his lap. “I’d guess we have some time before any of the guests appear for the pre-dinner drinks.”

Skye scrambled into his lap, relaxing into Luke’s hold. He was glad Luke had nothing against cuddling. He had heard that some Dominants didn’t allow it and he couldn’t imagine being in a relationship with somebody like that. He craved close contact with Luke like an addiction.

“That was wonderful, Skye, thank you. Please believe that it was not my intention to seduce you, but when I saw you dozing in the armchair… So sweet and peaceful…”

“It was my pleasure, Sir.”

“Still, I promise to be more controlled in future. Anyone could have walked in on us.”

Skye let the idea of people watching them play out in his head. To his surprise, it didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would.

“Do I have a trainee exhibitionist on my hands?” Luke asked, apparently interpreting his expression and coming to an accurate conclusion.

“I don’t think so, Sir. It’s just that there wasn’t room in my head for anyone but you so, if people had been watching, I don’t think I’d even have noticed.”

Chuckling, Luke stroked his hair. “Something for us to discuss if the occasion ever arises, though I think it’s safe to say that I’d much rather keep you to myself.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds the ticking of the mantel clock and the distant rustle of wind in the trees. Skye had no desire to move but when the clock struck eleven, he knew he had to get back to work.

“Sir…”

“Yes, I know. Time to get back to the real world. Once you’re done with lunch service today, you’ll join me in my office for the afternoon.”

On the surface, the invitation was innocuous but there was something in Luke’s tone that promised… Skye shook his head. His imagination was running away with him. “Yes, Sir.” He got to his feet, but Luke pulled him back for a kiss. When he let Skye go, Skye had to clutch the arm of the chair for balance.

“Now you may go.”

Skye drifted toward the kitchen in a daze and it was only when he banged the door frame with his hip that he gave himself a shake. He needed to get his head back where it was needed, on crockery and glassware, rather than the firm press of Luke’s lips.

 

* * * *

 

Luke tapped his pen against his notepad, his mind on far more enjoyable things than future bookings. He’d not planned for the way things had turned out in the snug before lunch, but the trip to check on Skye’s wellbeing had turned into a memorable treat. He had spent a good half an hour afterward debating his behavior, wondering if he had taken advantage of the situation. It had been impossible to resist the pleading in Skye’s violet eyes and his earnest focus on giving Luke the best blow job he’d ever had, melted Luke’s heart. Skye had no thought for his own pleasure and hadn’t even hinted with so much as a look that Luke should reciprocate in any way. He’d relaxed into Luke’s arms as if all his ambitions for the day had been achieved. Luke could have stayed there, Skye’s slender body pressed to his, for the rest of the day and been quite contented. Sometimes the demands of the real world were a pain in his arse.

Lunch had been a quick sandwich and an apple, eaten at his desk. He had checked in to the banqueting hall, had a quick chat with Roy and Saul, then left as most of the others were taking short breaks from the dungeon to grab a bite. There was no regular schedule and Skye was busy serving those who did appear so Luke hadn’t wanted to distract him. There would be time enough to enjoy his submissive later in the day. He was keen to discuss what Skye had been dreaming about, because his expression had been intriguing to say the least. Knowing that the daydream had been about him sparked his curiosity even more.

He checked his watch for the fifth time, wondering how long it would be before Skye was able to join him, then laughed at his own behavior. Skye had him tangled in knots only a few hours after signing their contract. He got back to reviewing forthcoming bookings, knowing that he would have to write out to those on the waiting list soon—no cancellations had arisen and The Retreat was booked solid for the next eighteen months. He had plans to offer a service in future for men who were willing to share their booking when they weren’t using all the bedrooms. It would reduce the considerable cost and perhaps alleviate the disappointment that came with the long waiting times. There would have to be a careful matching process to ensure people were compatible, but Luke was sure he could make it work. He needed to discuss the plan with Carey but didn’t doubt that he would gain his support.

His remaining concentration was shredded by a pounding on his office door, which opened before he could say anything. Henry appeared, bare-chested and white-faced.

“Mr. Redding, can you come, sir? It’s Fergus…he’s hurt.”

Luke was already on his feet. He didn’t bother asking for more information, choosing instead to go and see for himself. Henry was excitable but wasn’t one to exaggerate. If he said Fergus was hurt, there was no doubt it was true. There was a sizeable first aid kit in the dungeon so Luke went straight there. He found Fergus, even paler than Henry, resting against the spanking bench. He was trembling, head down. Saul had an arm around his shoulders and a few of the other guests were gathered around.

“Luke, I’m glad you’re here. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that this has happened.” Roy ran up with the first aid box, placing it on the bench.

“What has happened?” Luke asked. When Fergus looked up, it was easy to work it out for himself. A nasty cut ran the length of Fergus’s cheek, ending millimeters from his eye. Blood streaked his face.

“It was an accident, Mr. Redding.” Fergus’s voice shook.

Luke decided that dealing with the injury was more important than determining the exact course of events at that moment. He pulled on a pair of latex gloves from the medical kit before unwrapping a sterile dressing. He pressed it to Fergus’s cheek.

“Hold it in place, Fergus. Press as hard as you can stand. It’ll slow the bleeding.” He turned to Henry, who had followed him down the stairs. “Fetch Tor, then ask Rayne to get the car ready. We need to get Fergus checked out at the hospital. Ask Skye to fetch some respectable clothes and a warm coat from Fergus’s room—leather shorts will cause quite a commotion in casualty.” Henry dashed away. “Fergus, turn around so I can see your back.”

Fergus did as Luke ordered. His back was striped with red lines, but the skin wasn’t broken. “This will be fine with some salve applied. Do you have any other injuries?”

“No, Sir. I wanted this—hurt so good, you know? It was an accident.”

“I have no doubt it was.” Luke found some antiseptic spray. “This will sting a bit. Lift the dressing for me.” He sprayed the wound, which looked clean beneath the oozing blood. “Okay, it may not need stitches, but it’s best to be sure.” Roy handed him a towel from the dungeon’s stock and Luke put it around Fergus’s shoulders. “Let’s get you upstairs.” As he spoke, Tor arrived. Luke gave him a short explanation. “Tor will take you to wait for Rayne and help you get dressed. I’ll be there in a minute or two.”

Tor took everything in then left, supporting Fergus as best he could. A large bearded man stepped forward.

“I was the one doing the demonstration,” he said. “I can only apologize. My foot slipped as I stepped into the stroke and the whip curled around his cheek. He could have lost his eye. If there’s anything I can do…” His sub clung to his side, sobbing.

“It’s Aston, isn’t it?” Luke asked, getting a brief nod in return. “Accidents happen. Fergus knows the risks of his job and this wasn’t deliberate. I won’t tell you not to feel bad because you obviously do, but let it go. Enjoy the rest of your day. Look after Sean.” Aston ruffled his sub’s hair. “I’ll write up a report of the incident, which you can look over. This isn’t the first mishap we’ve had down here, and it won’t be the last.” He tried to project reassurance. “Saul, if there’s anything you need while I’m gone, please ask Goran. I’ll let him know what’s going on.”

“I will. And let young Fergus know that we’re all thinking about him.”

After stripping off his gloves and grabbing two spare dressings from the first aid kit, Luke made his way back upstairs. He found Tor and Goran in the front hall where Skye was helping Fergus into a t-shirt and jumper, keeping the fabric away from his face.

“Rayne is bringing the car around,” Goran said. “You’re going with Fergus?”

Luke nodded. “Yes. You and Goran are needed here. I’m not sure how long it will take, so, Tor,– you get on with preparations for tonight’s dinner. Goran, look after the guests. Aston in particular is shaken up and his sub is a mess—though it’s clear this was an unfortunate accident.”

“I’ll break out the brandy. Hot toddies all round will do the trick.” Goran strolled toward the snug.

“Skye, you do whatever Goran and Tor need. Go to all the guests’ rooms when they’re finished in the dungeon and make sure they have everything they need and keep an eye on Henry for me.”

“Yes, Sir.” Skye seemed calm. “Fergus will be fine, won’t he, Sir?”

“I’m sure he will. Now, tonight’s theme is A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Let’s make it a magical experience for everyone.”

“Rayne’s here.” Tor held the door open while Luke escorted Fergus to the car. As he climbed in, Luke wondered if Skye was experiencing the same separation anxiety he was.

 

* * * *

 

Five hours, three cups of terrible coffee, two stitches and a dressing later, Luke got back to The Retreat. The entrance hall was empty, but faint sounds of laughter and music came from the direction of the banqueting hall. Rayne and Fergus came in behind him, chattering away.

“You can put the car away, Rayne. Fergus, I think you should go to your room and rest. I’ll let everyone know that you’re okay.”

“Thank you for taking me to the hospital, Mr. Redding. I’m glad there wasn’t any need for more than two stitches. My face is starting to come back to life now. It’s sore, but not too bad.”

“The nurse said it was a nice straight wound and that it shouldn’t scar—but no whipping demonstrations until you’re healed, okay? You should take some painkillers too.”

“But I enjoy it, Mr. Redding. The heat and the ache…” Fergus gave a little shiver. “So good.”

“There speaks a true pain slut.” Luke sighed. “I’ll see if someone’s free to help you salve your back. No arguing, you need to take care of yourself whether you like the pain or not. Remember—don’t get that dressing wet tonight.”

Fergus nodded. Once he had disappeared toward the staff wing, Luke went into his office and took a few deep breaths. His patience had been tested to the limit by the congested waiting room, screaming toddlers and assorted drunks queueing for treatment at the hospital. The liquid that came out of the vending machine, which had the front to call itself coffee, had been an insult to his taste buds. He needed a few moments’ peace before checking on the guests.

“Sir?”

At the sound of Skye’s soft voice, Luke turned. He gaped. “Is that…body paint?”

“Yes, Sir.” Skye took two steps into the office. “Is Fergus…?”

“He’s fine. Two stitches and if he’s careful, it shouldn’t scar.” Luke steadied himself against the desk. Skye’s entire body was decorated in swirling designs of silver, green and blue. His hair was gelled into spikes and his face was made up with glitter and jewels. At first glance, he could have been naked beneath the paint, but careful study revealed flesh-colored shorts under the decoration. “You are…stunning.”

Skye ducked his head. “Thank you, Sir. Henry and I helped each other. The guests love it.”

“I’m sure they do!” Luke loosened his collar.

“We’re supposed to be fairies in Oberon and Titania’s court. The guests have made incredible efforts with their own costumes and the banqueting hall looks fabulous. Tor and the boys created this amazing feast—it all looks so decadent and luxurious. There’s gold food paint and glitter everywhere.” Skye giggled, the sound sending a shiver of desire down Luke’s spine. “I’ve no idea how long it’s going to take me to get all this paint off and I don’t think my hair will ever be the same again.”

Luke debated his options. Jump in the swimming pool fully clothed. Run upstairs and take an ice-cold shower. Bend Skye over the desk right there and then. Or be professional and check in with the guests. His heart approved of the desk option, his body needed the shower option, but his head gave him a mental smack then went with professional. He sighed. Being the boss was sometimes a pain in the behind.

“Why don’t you show me? I’ll bring the camera and, if the guests don’t mind, I’ll take a few pictures.”

“They’ve been snapping away all evening, Sir,” Skye said. To Luke’s surprise Skye held out his hand. Luke took it and found himself pulled toward the banqueting hall. He followed Skye’s lead, in danger of stumbling over his own feet as his eyes were fixed on Skye’s lithe, glittering body. The image would be fodder for his dreams for a long time to come.

As soon as he entered the banqueting hall, Luke was assaulted by a barrage of questions about Fergus’s well-being. Even Sean, Aston’s shy sub, found the courage to approach him. He gave all the appropriate reassurances, letting them know that Fergus would be back on duty in the morning. There were exclamations over the need for two stitches before the conversation descended into discussions of everyone’s hospital experiences. When various scars were revealed, Luke decided it was time to make his exit. He got Saul’s permission to take a few pictures, assuring him that any he used would not show faces, then retreated to the staff room. Tor, Benjy and Frank were seated around the table with their usual pot of tea, all looking worn-out and frazzled. Luke had to repeat his story again while Tor poured him a mug of tea.

“It has been quite an evening,” Tor said. “We’ve served dessert and we’re fitting in a quick break before coffee and sweets. Everything’s prepared and ready to go. Skye and Henry will come and collect them when they think it’s time.”

“Everything out there looks spectacular. This bunch really take their costumes seriously, don’t they?”

“I think they’re one of the best groups we’ve ever had. Maybe it’s the air in Manchester, but they’re all very amenable. We’ve not had a single complaint about anything. They’re polite and respectful to the staff and it’s clear they care for one another. I think Roy and Saul set a fine example.”

Luke nodded, sipping his tea. “They won’t all be like this, but we haven’t come across a bad bunch yet. It’ll be interesting to see how they handle their slave auction tomorrow night.” He chuckled. “I’ve a feeling the costumes will be even skimpier than tonight, though with a lot less glitter. We’re going to be finding that stuff in every nook and cranny for months.”

“Do you want anything to eat, sir?” Frank asked. “You missed supper. I could throw together a sandwich for you.”

“Did Skye eat?”

“Yes,” Tor replied. “I made sure he and Henry had sandwiches and salad before they started this evening’s service. It took both of them to decorate the banqueting hall, then Benjy helped Goran with the drinks whilst Skye served the food. Goran created some amazing cocktails in different colors. They had sparklers in them and some of them even smoked with dry ice. The man’s like a bartending wizard with his potions.”

“Then, I will have a sandwich. Thank you, Frank. Don’t go to too much trouble, I’ll have whatever is on hand.” Luke relaxed in his seat, impressed at how well organized everything had been in his absence. He trusted his staff, but it was always good to witness their efficiency with his own eyes. Delighted guests meant recommendations for future bookings. He wanted The Retreat to have the best reputation it could and tonight’s impressive display could only help.

Over the next hour, Luke only saw Skye when he dashed in and out of the kitchen. The fleeting glimpses of glistening body paint were enough to keep Luke hard and on edge. He couldn’t get it out of his head that other men were looking at what was his, even though he knew it was part of Skye’s job. He sighed and poured yet another mug of tea, counting down the minutes until he could have Skye to himself.