Beneath the Scars Read online

  Catching his drift, Holt snorted. “Sure, you have. Nah, it’s okay, bro. I live next door to her. It’s not like I can’t spend time with her when she’s not working.”

  “Sure you can. But this is a party, and our bartender should have a chance to enjoy it. As it happens, I like tending bar. Gives me a chance to talk with members I haven’t met.” Cullen crooked his finger at his submissive who was talking with Kari.

  Kari looked over and smiled at Holt. Dan’s pretty schoolteacher submissive was a sweetheart.

  “It’s nice to see you both here,” Holt told Dan.

  “It’s good to be here—and easier now that Zane’s bigger.” With a wry grin, Dan shook his head. “I can’t believe we’re thinking of having another.”

  “A-huh.” It wasn’t a surprise to Holt. The last time he’d visited Dan and Kari, the cop had been on the floor, helping Zane pile up blocks and knock them down. Dan’s grin had been as wide as his son’s. “Count me in as a babysitter.”

  “Good evening, lads.” Olivia smiled as she strolled past.

  “Io, Saturnalia, Olivia,” Cullen said. “Nice pet you picked up.”

  “Yes, Natalia’s being quite the good girl,” Olivia agreed.

  The pretty Hispanic submissive was exactly one step behind the Mistress. Holt smothered a smile. Natalia wore one of Olivia’s temporary collars…and a thrilled, terrified expression.

  As the two moved on, Andrea appeared in front of Cullen. “You wanted me, mi Señor?”

  “I’m going to kick the bartender out and take over for a while.” Cullen glanced around with a frown. “And I want you with me, love. Can’t have you getting dragged down on one of the mats.”

  In Roman days, the Saturnalia orgies were infamous—and the Shadowlands members were doing their best to uphold tradition. Although some used the Capture Gardens’ secluded nooks for private interludes, the less inhibited members were enthusiastically fucking on the thick mats around the lawn’s perimeter. The giant ocean of mats in the center had turned into a free-for-all orgy.

  Considering the Shadowlands’ stance on consent, Cullen knew Andrea wouldn’t get dragged onto the mats unless she wanted to be. He just wanted his subbie at his side.

  She knew it, too. Her eyes danced as she tucked herself against his side. “You’re very good to protect me from all the evil Doms.”

  He grinned. “I know.”

  For a moment, Holt watched Josie and all the people around the bar. She’d think better without an audience. He turned to Cullen. “Thanks for freeing Josie up. Do me another favor and send her over to Raoul with a couple of Sierra Nevadas?” Each small sitting area had a number taped on a table, and Holt squinted to get the number. “At sitting area nine.”

  Relieved of her bartending job, Josie planned to head home after she dropped off a couple of drinks. Cullen had asked her to deliver them to Raoul.

  Carrying the two bottles, she wended her way through the chairs and groups of people. Seven. Eight. Nine. Yes, there was the muscular Master in a patio chair. His black-haired submissive was on her knees in front of him.

  Josie smiled at the two, glanced around the area, and froze as a winter-blue gaze met hers. Holt.

  Her heart set up a disconcerting thudding in her chest, and she swallowed. “I, um, Master Raoul. I have the drinks Master Cullen sent over.”

  Master Raoul gave her a quizzical look before holding up his nearly full drink.

  “One is mine,” Holt rose and took a beer, then seated her beside him on the loveseat. “And one is yours.”

  “But…”

  “You’re off duty now. It’s time for a drink…unless you don’t want it.”

  She did. She just wasn’t sure if sitting beside this…Dom…was her wisest choice. Especially since, as usual, an evening in the Shadowlands had sent her hormones whirling.

  Looking away, she realized the conversational area was close to the center of the lawn. And the biggest mat area. Her eyes widened. A woman was taking on three men—one in each orifice—and seemed to be loving it.

  Putting an arm around Josie, Holt followed her gaze. “Ah. The center mat is gang-bang central.”

  She took a hefty swallow of the icy beer. “Are you…into…that?”

  He didn’t appear especially interested in the moans and slapping sounds of flesh. “I must lack a good imagination, since I had to check out everything for myself. Which means, back in my decadent days, I tried various multiples.” With a smile, he brushed her cheek with his knuckles.”

  She frowned. “Did you like the gang-bang stuff?”

  “Yes and no. Sex is rarely bad—especially for a guy. With more than one man, it’s easier to drive a woman mindless. That said, I’m also possessive and don’t want anyone touching what’s mine.”

  “But…” Josie well remembered how he’d made her strip.

  “Oh, they can look. I do enjoy sharing your beauty.” His warm gaze made the heat rise in her cheeks. “They just can’t touch.”

  How did he make her feel so stupidly flustered? Looking away, she realized Master Raoul was listening—and amused.

  “Josie,” Holt turned her chin so she saw only him.

  The firm hand, the way he didn’t ask, melted her bones. “Yes?”

  “Do you want to take the next step and explore dominance and submission for an entire evening?”

  Her breath clogged in her throat. “With you?”

  “Yes, pet,” he murmured. “Totally and only with me.”

  With his fingers still under her chin, he stroked his thumb over her lips. “I’ll push you…a bit…but you’ll be safe, baby.”

  She knew that, actually. Well, she’d be safe physically. Emotionally…might be a different matter. But the funny sinking feeling she got every time she looked into his eyes made her want to say yes. Her tongue wetted her dry lips, brushed his thumb, and his eyes heated.

  A shiver danced across her nerves, because…he wanted her. And she wanted him. In this place and this night, they’d have sex. “Yes,” she whispered, flinging common sense to the winds. Yes to everything.

  “All right then.” He leaned forward and kissed her, slowly and gently.

  When he released her, she blinked.

  The other two were watching. And, hmm, Master Raoul’s submissive was on her knees while Josie was sitting on the lounge. Holt had made Josie kneel last week. “Should I be on my knees?”

  Holt eyed her thoughtfully. “Do you want to be on your knees?”

  “What? What kind of a question is that? No one wants to be on their knees.”

  “You’re making an interesting assumption.” He pulled her closer. “I’m not sure you’ve actually met everyone. Master Raoul, this is Josie, our bartender.”

  Interesting. Holt’s innate manners implied he knew a man should be presented to a woman. But she’d been presented to Raoul. In the Shadowlands, a Master ranked higher than…gender? Unsure what to say, Josie hesitated.

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Josie,” Master Raoul said in a Spanish accented voice. He put his hand on the kneeling woman’s shoulder. “This is my Kim.”

  Whoa, that was awfully possessive. And demeaning. Yet the pleasure and pride in Raoul’s voice was heartwarming. Leaning against his legs, Kim rubbed her cheek against his forearm before smiling at Josie.

  “With that out of the way,” Holt said, “permission to speak with your slave, Raoul?”

  “Granted.”

  Josie stiffened. Slave? That beautiful woman? The term was one Josie had trouble getting her mind around.

  Holt leaned forward. “Kim, how do you feel about kneeling for your Master? Especially when everyone else is sitting?”

  Kim straightened, pushing back a wealth of long black hair. Smiling, she spoke to Josie in a soft Southern accent. “Actually, it bothered me at first, especially if I was the only slave in the group. But then I realized not everyone has a Master personality. It’s a lot of work, after all. Not everyone is suited to be a slave an
d give up so much control. Being a Master or a slave isn’t a good thing or a bad thing, any more than it’s good or bad to be an introvert or extrovert, or to be an athlete or musical.”

  “You’re saying you weren’t pushed into being a slave,” Holt said.

  “More the opposite. Master R let me—made me—try not being a slave. This is what I chose, because it’s what makes me happy.”

  Josie studied the…slave. She sure didn’t look beaten down or miserable. She practically glowed with happiness. “I think it’ll take me a while to truly understand.”

  “It did me, too.” Kim grinned. “You asked about kneeling. To me, this is comforting. There is no safer place in the universe than at my Master’s feet, and safety is something I cherish very much.”

  Well, that was straightforward enough. Josie glanced up at Holt. “I’m not sure what to think.”

  “I see that. But thinking isn’t what is required.” He ran his fingers through her hair, then nodded at the grass. “Kneel for me, pet.”

  It wasn’t a request.

  She slid off the loveseat to the grass and took the posture from last week.

  “Very pretty. You have a good memory, sweetheart.” Holt’s low approving voice in her ear made her quake. “That is exactly what I want when I say kneel. If I say ‘be comfortable’, you can relax and let your hands rest on your lap and can rest some of your weight on a hip. So, get comfortable now, since you’ll be in place for a while.”

  Rules. Yet knowing exactly what to do was oddly reassuring. After she clasped her hands on her lap and relaxed, he pulled her between his knees and leaned forward to rest his hands on her shoulders. “Raoul, are you going to Anne’s tomorrow?”

  As the two Masters talked, Josie relaxed. The grass was cool on her bare legs. A tiny breeze ruffled her hair and carried the sounds of conversations, of sex, of the more distant scenes. The warm, solid strength in Holt’s hands on her shoulders was a comfort.

  “Josie.” Holt’s voice broke into her floating quiet place. “Bring us a tray of the vegetables and dip, please.”

  “Of course.” Seeing Kim grin and shape a word with her lips, Josie added hastily, “Sir. Of course, Sir.”

  Holt leaned over and rubbed his beard-rough cheek against hers. His smoky chuckle resonated through every nerve. “Good save, pet.” With an easy strength, he put his hands on her waist and set her on her feet. “Off you go.”

  As she headed for the food area, Kim was sent to fetch soft drinks.

  After securing a vegetable tray, Josie turned and bumped into a man who was standing way too close. “Excuse me,” she said politely.

  “It’s the pretty bartender.” The man was dressed in black vinyl pants and a tight shirt, meaning he was probably a Dom. “They’re almost finished on the gangbang mat. How about you join us for a turn?”

  She almost said ewww and changed it to “No, thank you.”

  As she tried to sidestep around him, he blocked the move and ran his hand down her arm. “C’mon, you know you want to. Every woman does.”

  Anxiety rose in her. Throwing the tray at him might cause a fight. However, being polite hadn’t worked. What could she—

  “Josie, please return to our area, put the tray on the table, and resume your position.”

  Relief was a sweet rush as she looked up into Holt’s hard face. He wasn’t upset, but had quietly told her exactly what he wanted her to do. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Very good.” He squeezed her shoulder and stepped out of her way. As she moved toward the sitting area and Master Raoul, she heard Holt say calmly, “She gave you a clear, polite no, and you didn’t listen. You didn’t pay attention to her body language either. As a Dom, it’s your job to both hear and see what a submissive—or any woman—is saying.”

  After setting her tray on the table, Josie knelt.

  Master Raoul picked up a piece of broccoli and then studied her with dark eyes. “You look worried, chiquita.”

  After a quick glance at Holt, Josie relaxed. As Holt talked, the jerk bowed his head, his shoulders slumping. “I was afraid they might fight. It seems Holt has it covered.”

  Eye on the two men, Raoul smiled slightly. “Our Holt is a master of diplomacy. He has the ability to control almost any situation, to calm people down, to quiet fears, to bring reason to a problem.”

  While setting drinks on the table, Kim laughed.

  “Yes, sumisita?”

  “He does try diplomacy, but he has his limits. Remember that gay Top who ignored the bottom’s safeword?”

  “What happened?” Josie asked.

  “Holt was dungeon monitor. He stopped the scene and was releasing the bottom while telling the Top how he’d missed seeing all the signs.” Kim grinned. “Master Holt is very into teaching.”

  “But the Top didn’t listen?”

  “Oh, it was a mess. The Top was yelling and pissed. The bottom collapsed in tears and the Top actually smacked him again with his cane. Holt…you could see his jaw set…and he simply swung the jerk into the wall. Face first. Busted the guy’s nose. Blood everywhere. Before he could stand again, his bottom was gone.”

  Josie grinned, remembering how a certain mugger had hit a car and gone skidding over the hood.

  “It was a pretty sight, yes,” Raoul said.

  Kim snickered. “Master Holt never raised his voice. Not once.”

  Master Raoul opened a soda for Kim and handed it to her. He smiled as Holt dropped down on the loveseat behind Josie. “Can I assume the Dom will accept a no next time?”

  “I think so.” Holt motioned toward the orgy-like activity in the center of the lawn. “Seems like watching too much of that shuts down higher brain functions.”

  Josie frowned. “And that makes it all right?”

  “No, it doesn’t.” Holt’s brows lowered. “No more than it’s allowed to break into McDonalds because you’re hungry and smell a Big Mac. And so I told him when he tried to give me excuses.”

  “Oh.” Josie laughed. The Dom had been mid-twenties. “That’s a good analogy. He looks like someone who loves fast food.”

  “What I thought, too.” Holt smiled and pulled her back between his knees. “Then I told him if he touched my submissive again, I’d knock him into next week.”

  Over the next hour, Holt enjoyed giving the little bartender lessons in what he expected. He wasn’t much into strict high protocol, so the rules weren’t too difficult. During parties, he didn’t mind if his submissive looked around. He wanted her comfortable in a sitting-kneeling posture. Talking, though? Not without permission, which Josie actually picked up from watching Kim. Eating—again, not without permission.

  For his own pleasure, he hand-fed her, making mental notes of which foods she took eagerly and which were greeted with a slight pulling away. When he sent her for a dessert tray, he memorized the contents, figuring she was smart enough to choose only items she liked.

  It was a delight to have a smart submissive on his hands.

  After their drinks were finished, he took her for a stroll, stopping to tell Z which path in the Capture Gardens he’d check on. There were always dungeon monitors on duty; even so, every Master tried to keep an eye on the secluded nooks.

  As they walked down the grassy paths, Holt paused at each scene to check the safety of the participants—and to let Josie get a good look. Her reaction to a suspension scene showed him she wasn’t ready for that level of bondage. Eventually, maybe. Restraints—he knew she liked those. He hadn’t anticipated her interest in gags. Interesting.

  The way she clung to him after seeing Edward using a bullwhip in a wide clearing had been delightful.

  Bare-ass spanking—that was a definite go when they had the chance.

  During their scene last week, she’d enjoyed being flogged, not so much the caning. From the way her pulse increased at the sight of one couple, he might try light breast and pussy spanking in the future.

  Severe pain, blood-play, fisting, face-slapping—he now knew to a
void those. Not a problem, since he didn’t enjoy them particularly.

  When they returned, he gave her a bathroom break and picked up a couple bottles of water.

  “Holt, join us.”

  He turned to see Nolan hailing him from a nearby sitting area. Black straight hair pulled back, black eyes, forbidding face, the general contractor occupied a patio chair with his delightful redheaded wife at his feet. Across from them, Max and Alastair had taken over a blanket and leaned on a pile of pillows with Uzuri kneeling between them.

  “Hey, people.” Holt eyed a blanket with more pillows. No, this would be more fun. He chose a long lounge chair and raised the back to a semi-reclined angle.

  Returning from the bathroom, Josie started to kneel close to Holt’s chair…and hesitated. Half of her wanted to be as close as possible. The other half felt out of control and wanted to be out of easy reach.

  That tour of the Capture Gardens had been overwhelming and far too arousing. By the time they finished, her skin was so sensitive that the slightest brush of Holt’s body against hers gave off sizzles. She wanted his hands on her more with every breath she drew. And that feeling scared her spitless.

  So, she knelt now…just out of his reach.

  His eyebrow lifted, and he swept her with an assessing stare. Then smiled slowly. “Too far away. Sit between my legs, pet.”

  “But…” She looked around the group. No other submissive in the group was seated.

  “I don’t care what other people are doing.” A smile softened his features. “When we’re in scene—like now—the only opinion you have to worry about is mine. You don’t have to think or plan, simply follow my directions. Clear?”

  Don’t do anything except follow orders. The lack of control was a comfort in a way. It helped, knowing he was a paramedic and nurse. He wouldn’t ask her to do anything unhealthy or illegal.

  “Yes, Sir.” She rose.

  “Before you sit, remove the underwear.”

  “What?”

  “Language, pet, and this is your last warning.” His quiet, steady gaze made her stomach feel as if she were on an elevator going down. “You heard me. Underwear off.”