Reagan shivered, but it didn’t have anything to do with the wind howling outside the enormous windows of Rafe’s home. When she’d spoken with him this morning, Rafe had directed her to the master control panel for the security system. He’d talked her through disabling the speakers and the cameras for the main living area. She’d felt the oddest sense of freedom knowing she finally had a bit of privacy. Maybe she hadn’t been as sold on Kodi’s roommate idea as she’d thought?
Excitement threatened to bubble over, and she fought the urge to run back to the bedroom to retrieve her ringing phone. Kneeling naked with her back to the fireplace, Reagan was wedged between the long sofa and the overstuffed chair she loved curling up in to read. Rechecking her position, she adjusted her knees so they were as far apart as she could get them. She let her gaze move quickly over her immediate surroundings. Spotting something silver under the sofa cushion, Reagan almost groaned when she realized she hadn’t properly returned the small pistol to its original hiding place.
Rafe had quizzed her several times to make sure she could confidently operate the small Sig Sauer P938. He wanted to be absolutely certain she was familiar with its operation. Just as she lifted her hand to push the pistol farther under the cushion, she heard the back-door open. Shocked she hadn’t heard the garage door open or close, she quickly readjusted her hands on her thighs and waited.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here? Did you know I was coming, Reagan? If I’d known I’d find you naked and spread for me like the slut you are, I’d have worked harder to find you.” Her blood turned to ice in her veins when she realized Major Merrett stood directly in front of her. She struggled to get to her feet, but he tangled his fingers in her hair, stilling her movement.
“Looks like your fuck-buddy did a good job of hiding all those nasty scars, bitch. Too bad he wasted his time, because I’m going to carve you up again after I sample the cunt you seem intent on sharing with everyone but me.” The sinister tone of his voice sent chills racing over her bare skin. When black dots began dancing in her vision, Reagan realized she was holding her breath and sucked in a big gulp of air. The last thing she needed was to pass out, leaving herself completely defenseless.
Think, Reagan. Rafe will be here any minute. If he walks in, he’ll be a sitting duck. Her Master wouldn’t be expecting anyone else to be in the house, and with the cameras disabled, he’d have no way of knowing the dangerous situation that awaited him. The realization she’d accepted Rafe as her Master struck her like a blow to the chest, and her need to protect him swamped her.
As if he’d known she was lost in thought, Merrett yanked her hair so hard she fell to the side. Catching herself against the side of the sofa, Reagan let her hand slip between the cushions and wrap around the pistol’s grip. Sending up a silent prayer of thanks for Rafe’s insistence she learn how to use the gun, she flicked off the safety and palmed as much of the weapon as she could before pulling her hands free. From his position in front of her, he wouldn’t be able to see her hand. Thank God she’d knelt between two pieces of furniture.
“You are a ditzy bitch, aren’t you? Hell, I don’t think you’ve heard a word I said. But at least you are in the perfect position to suck me. Don’t fucking move.”
He released her hair, and she felt herself sway with relief. Finally finding her voice, she gasped, “Cameras. There are cameras everywhere, and the police are probably already on their way.”
He laughed and laid a small black box on the table behind him. “Scramblers are the best thing the geeks have invented in a long time. Took out the system at that freight company you worked for with no problem at all.”
“You went there looking for me? How did you know I used to work there?”
“Your buddy Kelsey sold you out, bitch. She called me wanting money in exchange for your location. Why would I pay her when it was easy to find out who she was and where she was calling from?”
“Kelsey told you where to find me?” She hated the quivering in her voice, but the combination of fear and betrayal was almost too much for her to wrap her head around. How did she always manage to trust the wrong people? Regretting her earlier relief at having the security system turned off, she shook her head in disgust when she realized it didn’t matter anyway. If he was right about the scrambler, Phoenix would have just assumed there was glitch in the system.
“Open your mouth. I’m going to fuck your throat before I take what should have been mine a year ago.” The sound of his zipper shifted her entire world on its axis. Time slowed despite the fact everything seemed to happen at once. The rasp of the zipper’s metal teeth releasing and the low rumble of the garage door opening shot adrenaline through her system, and Reagan’s mind cleared. The fog of fear was replaced by the knowledge she not only had to save herself; she had to save Rafe as well.
Merrett’s hand once again clenched her hair, yanking her head to the side. Reagan wouldn’t be able to see where she was shooting, but that didn’t stop her from pulling her hand from beneath her. She aimed up and pulled the trigger. His scream caused her to flinch, pulling the trigger a second time, but this shot sounded much louder…more like an explosion than a single shot from a pistol.
Glass shattered in front of her, and she instinctively covered her face. Merrett’s fingers flexed before sliding from her hair. He gasped once before falling in front of her. A knife she hadn’t known he was holding slid across the wood floor as Reagan scrambled back and away from the man who seconds early had been intent on shoving his cock into mouth. Shuddering when she thought about how close she’d come to being raped, Reagan screamed when warm hands wrapped around her upper arms and lifted her from the floor.
Her wild flailing was quickly stilled when she was wrapped in a soft blanket and picked up. “Shhh. I’ve got you, sweetheart. Just let me hold you for a little while.” Rafe’s voice calmed the worst of the storm churning in her as he moved across the room and fell into a chair with her still cradled in his arms. His shuddering breath matched her own, and as strange as it was, she found comfort in the fact he’d been as worried for her as she’d been for him.
What seemed like long minutes later, he leaned back and looked down at her. “Reagan, why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“My phone? Oh shit.”
“Oh shit, indeed.” His eyes darkened, but she could tell he wasn’t really angry. If she was going to make a guess, she’d venture Masters didn’t enjoy feeling that out of control. “I’m not going to assign a number of swats right now. I need to calm my racing heart before I give you some astronomical number, because I’ll always keep my promises, baby. But I assure you, it’s going to be a paddling you won’t soon forget.”
The words set her on fire. The adrenaline flooding her system turned to raging desire between one heartbeat and the next. Rafe’s fingers grasped her chin. Tilting her face up, he sealed his lips over hers. The kiss morphed from an assurance she was all right into a full-blown claiming before she could wiggle her arms free from the confines of the blanket. “Stay where you are, baby. I need to know you’re safe.” She moaned into his second kiss before he pulled back to gaze into her eyes. “I do believe bondage is something you’re going to enjoy. I’m looking forward to exploring that with you.”
Caila hadn’t hesitated to take the shot when she saw what Merrett held in his hand. The long, slender blade reminded her of a filet knife on steroids. She’d been right about the spot she’d chosen; the elevated vantage point had given her a perfect view into the room, and her scope let her track the prick stalking Reagan from the time he’d gotten out of his car. She’d wanted to shoot him then, but Brandt was a real stickler for the rules, and he’d reminded her that shooting someone before they committed a crime was against the rules. Damn, he used to be more fun when we were kids.
Dropping out of the tree, she laid her rifle at her feet, propped her hands on her knees, and took a deep breath. She’d seen Reagan pull the gun from between the cushions and was damned impressed when she’d taken the first shot. Unfortunately, Merrett chosen that moment to jerk Reagan so hard by the hair she’d almost fallen over. It looked like the bullet had grazed his thigh, but from his reaction, one would have thought she’d shot his cock off at the root. What a fucking baby.
“That was one hell of a shot, baby.” Her husband’s sexy voice startled her, and she jerked upright to find him leaning casually against a tree a few feet in front of her. He had a rifle slung over his shoulder, and she didn’t remember a time she’d been happier to see him. Tears spilled down her cheeks as the reality of what she’d done crashed over her. “Aww, sweetheart, come here.” Where had her mind been that she hadn’t even heard him move? Kip’s strong arms closed around her, and she let his strength seep into her.
“How long have you been here?”
“I was right behind you coming up the mountain. I had to park farther down so you were already in place before I caught up, so I took a position by the first fork in the path. The only reason I found you—great perch by the way—was because I swiped one of these from Phoenix’s office the other day.” She watched him pull an earbud just like hers from his ear. Caila knew exactly why he’d waited down the path…he was protecting her, and she loved him for it.
He leaned forward, pressed a kiss against her forehead, and grinned. “I can’t let the Mistress of Mayhem have all the fun, you know.” Caila rolled her eyes at the mention of one of the Morgan brothers’ favorite nicknames for her. “Baby, did you just roll your eyes at me?” The two of them weren’t as deep into the D/s dynamic as his brothers and their wives, but they did enjoy playing every once in a while.
“Actually, I was rolling my eyes at the nickname I don’t believe I deserve, but if a false confession will get me a funishment spanking and hot sex, then I’ll be all over it.”
He hugged her tight before leaning down to pick up her rifle. “Come on, baby, let’s go start the mountain of paperwork my brother is going to subject us to before he lets us go home to have some wild monkey sex. Mom’s got all the grandkids at their house in town, so hopefully, big brother can be persuaded to delay some of his questions until tomorrow.”
Caila didn’t think it was likely, but she wasn’t above batting her eyes and whining a little if it meant spending time doing naked mattress gymnastics with her man. She’d loved Kip since she old enough to understand what love was. Becoming his wife had been one of the happiest day of her life, because she’d not only gotten the man of her dreams, she’d gotten his family as well.
Rafe moved her off his lap and settled her on the sofa when he saw Kip lead Caila into the room. “Wait here, love. I want to thank Caila.”
“Thank her?”
“For saving your life, baby. The shot that took Merrett down was hers, Peach.”
Reagan was stunned. “Dr. Caila Morgan? The vet?”
When Caila giggled behind him, Rafe turned and smiled down at the petite bundle of trouble and pulled her in for a quick hug. Reagan heard him thanking Caila for saving her as Kip knelt in front of the sofa. His eyes were filled with concern as he inquired, “You okay, sweetheart?”
“Yes, and I hear I have your wife to thank for that fact.” Reagan was still trying to wrap her head around it.
He nodded and gave her a grin Reagan bet had melted a lot of women right out of their panties before he’d gotten married. “She’s racking up an impressive resume. I hope Uncle Sam doesn’t get wind of her skills.”
“Oh no! Is she going to be in trouble for shooting that prick? Because if there ever was a man who deserved to be shot, it was Major Merrett.”
“Hell no, I’m worried the military will try to recruit her.” His laughter was contagious, and she appreciated it more than she could tell him. The dam of emotion she’d been holding back bubbled forth as that laughter switched from amusement to something far too close to hysteria for her comfort.
Caila sat next to her and wrapped her arm around Reagan’s shoulders. “It’s the adrenaline crash. The more you try to hold it in, the harder the fall, so let it go.” The other woman’s words settled over her, and Reagan was grateful for her support. Damn, it had been a long time since she’d had friends to talk to, and in the past few days, she’d been surrounded by women who offered their friendship. Not one of them had asked her for anything in return.
“Thank you. I know it’s not enough, but I don’t think anything would ever be enough to show my gratitude. He was going to kill me, but not until after he made me wish a thousand times for the relief of death.” She shuddered, and Caila nodded her understanding. “I tried to shoot him, but the prick tried to pull my hair out by the roots, and I fell over. I was going to shoot him right in the…well, I was going to make sure Dick didn’t have a dick anymore.”
Caila giggled, Kip roared with laughter, and Rafe snorted a laugh even as he shook his head, looking for all the world like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. But it was Brandt Morgan who spoke. She hadn’t seen him walk up beside Kip, his dark eyes dancing with amusement. “Blood thirsty little wench, isn’t she?”
“Oh yes, she’s going to fit right in.” Caila turned her attention to Rafe, “You’d better keep her, Sir. She and I are going to get along great. And I can hardly wait to introduce her to my sisters-in-law.” Kip and Brandt groaned in unison, making Caila clap her hands looking like a little girl who’d found her heart’s desire under the Christmas tree.
Brandt held up his hand, gaining everyone’s attention in a way that reminded her all three men standing in front of her were sexual Dominants. Instinctively, her eyes moved to Rafe, though he wasn’t the man who’d commanded their attention. His slow nod of approval launched a flurry of butterflies in her stomach. Brandt’s deep voice cut through her budding arousal, “We’ve boarded up the window and cleaned up what we can. I want all of you in my office tomorrow morning. The reports can wait until then.” Focusing his attention on Caila, Brandt’s expression softened. “That was one hell of a shot, Cal. I’m damned proud of you. Hell, there were only a few guys in the SEALs who could have drilled that shot.”
Reagan watched Kip when Caila whispered, “I had good teachers.” His eyes were filled with a mixture of pride, love, and molten lust that made Reagan wonder if the couple would make it home before the passion steamrolled them.
Twenty minutes later, she and Rafe were the only ones left in the house. He’d led her to the bedroom before pulling the blanket from her shoulders. “Don’t move.” Leaving her standing beside the bed, he strode purposely across the large master bedroom to turn on the gas fireplace. She’d noticed the dark marble feature, but hadn’t seen it aflame until now. When he heard her gasp, he turned and smiled. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? It was my one completely extravagant addition after I bought the house.”
Beautiful didn’t do it justice. The flames appeared to dance atop a bed of mirrored glass. The configuration was constantly changing. One minute, it was a straight line; the next, it looked like a crowd performing the wave in the stands during a college football game. “It’s amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I’ll tell you more about it—later. Right now, I want you to turn around and lie over the edge of the bed with your legs spread more than shoulder width apart and your toes turned in.” She blinked her eyes in surprise, and he cocked a brow, waiting for her to comply. “You have a safe word, Reagan. Do you want to use it?”
The question pushed her to move quickly into position. She’d been waiting too long to let uncertainty steal this moment from her. He stepped behind her, his gaze a warm caress on her chilled skin. The shattered floor to ceiling window downstairs along with the steady stream of people in and out of the house meant the temperature had dropped to nearly freezing inside. Reagan was glad she’d closed the master bedroom door earlier in the evening, retaining at least some of the heat.
“Stay with me, Peach. I don’t want your mind wandering. I can be very creative when it comes to keeping subs focused.” Oh, she could only imagine all the tricks he had up his sleeve. She’d kept herself busy the past couple of days reading everything she could find online about Dominance and submission. What impressed her the most was the emphasis on communication and the absolute commitment of reputable clubs to safe, sane, and consensual as the guiding tenet of the lifestyle.
A sharp slap landed on her left ass cheek, making her shriek as heat exploded over her bare skin. She instinctively started to stand and discovered his hand wrapped possessively around the back of her neck. When did he do that? Her reflex was no match for his strength, and a second wave of heat moved through her at the feeling of being bound by him, even if it was just his hand holding her in place.
“How interesting.”
“Sir?”
“Peach, your respiration rate increased with the swat, but it was the feeling of being restrained that sent your heart rate through the roof.”
“I think having a Dom who’s a doctor might have some disadvantages I hadn’t previously considered.” She heard the quiver in her voice and there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell he’d missed it. Damn, nothing like turning into a puddle of goo after only one swat. Nothing needy about that, no siree.