Blake, Abby - Emma's Education [Viper's Dungeon 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (6 page)

“He’ll be back in a few minutes. Do you need to use the bathroom?”

Ooookay…that was an unexpected question. Embarrassment heated her cheeks, but the truth was she really did need to use the facilities, so she nodded shyly and cursed herself internally for her out-of-character behavior. It didn’t help her to find her balance when Jace gathered her in his arms, lifted her against his chest, and carried her into a small room with a shower and toilet. For one heart-stopping moment, Emma worried he was going to sit her on the damn toilet, but he placed her on her feet instead.

Emma rushed to straighten the rumpled black material, mortified to realize her breasts had practically worked their way out of the neckline. It didn’t help at all that her nipples were hard pebbles or that the memories of last night’s activities started to roll through her brain and heat her body.

Jace stood close, caressed her hard nipples gently with his knuckles for a moment, and then pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Call me when you’re finished.”

Hopelessly aroused from his simple touch, Emma didn’t need a mirror to know she wore a blank look. “Why?”

“So that I can carry you back to bed.”

“But I can walk,” she said, feeling off balance enough to state the obvious.

“True,” Jace said amiably, “but I like carrying you.”

She nodded, unsure why she was agreeing, but confused enough to go with the flow. He left the door open, and finally some small amount of sense kicked in and she marched over and closed it firmly. She wasn’t certain, but she thought she heard a quiet chuckle before she turned to make use of the facilities.

When she was done, she spent a few minutes trying to tame her wild hair before giving up and just making certain her supposedly waterproof makeup hadn’t melted down her face. Fortunately, the brand had lived up to its claim—mostly—and she hadn’t spent the night looking like the lead creature from a horror movie.

As soon as she opened the door, Jace scooped her into his arms and carried her the dozen or so feet to the bed. He placed her in the middle, pressed a kiss to her nose, and then climbed on beside her.

Emma glanced around the dimly lit room. In some ways, it resembled an ordinary bedroom. Although she’d never seen a man-sized wooden
X
with handcuffs attached, or a wall display filled with whips, in any bedroom she’d visited before.

“What is this room?”

“Just one of the private rooms the club has available for its members.”

“Oh.” That didn’t really explain anything but she was embarrassed enough by her own uncharacteristic behavior not to push for more.

Fortunately, the door opened a moment later and interrupted what could’ve developed into an uncomfortable silence.

“Good morning, little one,” Logan said as he stepped into the room. “Do you have any plans for today?”

“No.” Well, Saturday was laundry day, but she wasn’t about to blurt that out.

“Excellent. Viper has invited us to his home for lunch.”

“Oh, okay,” she said, not even trying to deny the thrill of getting to spend more time with these men. “If somebody could give me a lift home, I’ll…um…meet you at Viper’s place if you can give me an address.”

Their expressions grew darker with every word, and the last few from her mouth were practically whispered.

“Not going to happen, darlin’,” Jace said as he sat up. She scrambled to do the same, feeling at a distinct disadvantage being the only one lying down. Logan leaned over, lifted her to sit against the headboard, and sat himself on the edge of the bed. His big hand held her ankle in a warm grip, and she somehow felt trapped, possessed, and protected all from one seemingly absentminded touch.

“Emma, one thing you need to learn about our lifestyle is that a Dom
always
escorts his sub to a party.” Logan may have said it with an indulgent smile on his face, but it was obviously one point he would never compromise. “In fact, today we plan to drive you home, choose your clothes for you, and then escort you to the party.”

“Choose my clothes?” she blurted, unable to hide her distaste. “I’m a grown woman, not a five-year-old. I think I can choose my own clothes.”

“Emma,” Jace said as he caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Wouldn’t you prefer to wear clothes that you know turn us on?”

She laughed self-consciously. Her wardrobe was rather conservative, and she was fairly certain she didn’t own any clothes that would be to their tastes. She glanced down at the thin black material of the dress she’d worn most of the night and nearly shuddered at the thought of wearing something so revealing in the light of day.

“We’ll find something that suits all of us,” Jace said with a wink.

For some reason, she found herself smiling in return. The word “okay” slipped from her lips before she had a chance to really think about it.

* * * *

Logan didn’t need to figure out which one of the town houses was Emma’s home. In the neat little grouping of modern-looking homes, only one had the word “whore” spray-painted across the front door. He ground his teeth together, wanting to shield Emma from the childish behavior of her ex, but knowing that she needed to understand how dangerous Greg Michaels probably was. If the police reports Viper’s investigator had uncovered had any truth to them, this was just the beginning of Greg’s antisocial behavior.

Fortunately, Jace must’ve seen the door as well because he was doing a very good job of distracting Emma in the backseat. No wonder he’d insisted that Logan drive.

“Emma,” Logan said quietly as the couple finally came up for air. “How much do you know about your ex?”

She sounded breathless as she answered. “We dated for about two months. He seemed nice enough…well, until last night. And you saw how that ended.”

“Emma, I really wish I could shield you from this, but Greg Michaels has a long history of harassment and stalking.”

“Michaels? No his name is Greg Marsden. You must have him mixed up with someone else. The guy’s a self-centered jerk, but I doubt he’s a stalker.” Jace gave Logan a look that said he wanted the full story, not just the minimal information he was going to give Emma.

“I’m sorry, Emma, but I’m fairly sure we’ve got the right guy.”

“What makes you so certain?” Her voice was just a little bit wobbly, but she seemed more angry than frightened.

“He’s written something on your front door overnight.”

“What!” Emma tried to scramble out of the car, but Jace pulled her back into his arms. “What the hell? On my front door? Oh for fuck’s sake! Just tell me.”

“Emma,” Jace said quietly as he ran his hand through her hair in a soothing and hypnotic motion. “It doesn’t matter what he wrote. It’s not true. Logan is going to take you to breakfast while I get the mess cleaned up.”

* * * *

Emma really wanted to let them protect her—she
really
did—but the independent woman inside who had been taking care of herself for many, many years rebelled at the thought of hiding from life. Good, bad, and the ugly all made up life’s experiences, and she was damned if she’d let some coward with a spray can change the way she lived.

“Logan, Jace, I really appreciate that you want to protect me, but I need to know. If I cower away, then he wins.”

Logan nodded and even managed to grin, but Jace looked disappointed. In the end, they both nodded and helped her out of the car. Thank goodness they’d located her jeans and shirt in the club lockers. Turning up home with two men and wearing
that
black dress certainly would’ve given her neighbors something to gossip about. Fortunately, it was still early on a Saturday morning, so hopefully none of her neighbors had seen whatever graffiti Greg had written.

The word “whore” scrawled in red paint that dribbled down the door like blood was pretty confronting, and Emma sent a small prayer of thanks that she wasn’t alone to deal with it. She might refuse to hide, but she wasn’t going to refuse friendly support either.

Emma briefly wondered if it was too early to wake Mrs. Peterson to get her spare key when it finally occurred to her that her psychotic ex-boyfriend had the other set.

“He has my keys,” she blurted out before she could rein in the fear.

“It’s okay, little one. We’ll get the spare set, and I’ll check through the apartment before we do anything else.”

“Shouldn’t we call the police?”

“Who needs the police,” Jace said with a big grin, “when we have our very own Navy SEAL.”

“Really?” Well, that certainly explained the muscles. “Um, okay, I guess.”

Logan grinned and gave her a quick squeeze. “Who has your spare keys?”

After retrieving her spare house keys from a grumpy Mrs. Peterson, Emma stood on the porch and waited with Jace while Logan made certain Greg wasn’t lurking inside her house.

Logan must’ve checked every cupboard, nook, and cranny in the place, but eventually he stepped back onto the porch with a grim expression on his face.

“The place is empty,” he said with a growl that belied that as good news. “But he vandalized your bedroom.”

Emma felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. She’d been in a hurry yesterday, so it was quite possible the unmade bed and pile of unironed clothes would make the room look like it had been vandalized.

“Um,” she said, unsure how to confess her poor housekeeping.

“No, little one,” Logan said with a sad smile. “I’m talking about the smell. He poured something on the mattress.”

“Oh.” She felt her face heat. She was reduced to single syllable answers, and she sure didn’t like it. She shook her head, trying to imagine what Greg could possibly have poured over her bed to make it smell. Unfortunately, she got a whiff of the bedroom by the time she stepped into the hallway. “Dog shit?” she asked in a voice quivering with anger. Hell, it wasn’t just feces she could smell. There was the rank smell of stale urine as well.

“Darlin’, I think we need to report this to the police.”

She nodded in agreement. Hell, the police probably wouldn’t be able to do anything, but at least the incident would be recorded. “Could we cover the front door so the neighbors don’t get an eyeful?”

“Absolutely,” Jace said as he moved to hold her in his arms.

* * * *

Hours later, Jace was on the verge of grinding his teeth to dust. The police had been sympathetic but, without any witnesses to prove Greg Michaels had been there, unable to do more than document the damage.

Logan had practically dragged Emma away once the police left. She’d protested, but in the end, she seemed willing to grab some breakfast with Logan. Jace planned to get things organized here and hopefully join them. Although, with the stench from the bedroom firmly stuck in his nostrils, he wasn’t certain he’d ever want to eat again.

He’d called in a favor from some of his construction buddies, so they’d at least been able to haul away everything that had been damaged, including the ruined bed and carpet underneath. The room still stank a bit, but the rest appeared to be salvageable. He planned to have Emma stay with him at least for a while, but she struck him as stubborn enough to want to come back here eventually.

“Hey, Mitch, do you have a business card for the security company we used last month?”

“Sure,” Mitch said and headed out to his truck to retrieve the information. Jace wanted to call and make arrangements to have a state-of-the-art alarm and surveillance system installed immediately, but a part of him realized that Emma would want to be the one to make that decision.

He just hoped she saw things his way, because there was no way in hell the woman was coming back here without some protection—electronic, human, or otherwise.

* * * *

Emma tried to still the shaking in her fingers. Now that the anger was starting to wear off, the fear was setting in. Fortunately, she hated being afraid, so that at least kept the anger simmering.

Of course, it helped that Logan had seated her at the far end of the booth, and was currently caressing her thigh with his warm hand.

“So…um…you’re a Navy SEAL.” Okay, as a conversation starter, it was pretty lame, but the last twelve hours had been very weird.

“For the moment,” Logan said absently.

“Oh.” Emma stilled for a moment, wondering if he was going to elaborate. When he didn’t, she fidgeted in the seat for a little while and then asked, “Jace is a construction worker?”