“Holy
shit
. Does her husband know she’s … like this now?”
Kurt nodded toward the stands. “You see Stanton up there? Third row, with the blonde in the tight top?”
Derek scanned the seats, looking for a familiar face. A man with dark hair lounged in a seat, reading what looked to be a program. Next to him, her back ramrod straight, sat a young woman, her hair the palest blonde to match the cream of her flawless skin. Her eyes were downcast, a stiff collar of dark leather encasing her slim neck. She wore a top of jet black leather, the deep cleavage revealed beneath the criss cross pattern of the lace-up bodice.
“Who’s the girl with him?” To Derek’s eyes, she seemed rather …
young
for a guy Stanton’s age.
“Not sure,” Kurt said, shrugging. “Maybe she’s keeping him occupied while he’s deprived of Shae?”
“Whatever. The guy sold off his own
wife
. Sorry if I can’t dredge up any sympathy for him.”
“I don’t think Stanton needs sympathy from anyone, do you?” Kurt gestured toward the curvaceous redhead still being trotted before the throng. “He’s got that beauty to come home to once her Term’s up.”
“Not as good as Breanna,” Derek muttered, tearing his gaze from the wobbling buttocks of the prancing captive.
“Agreed, my friend.”
It was true too. Beautiful Shae was, but none of them compared to their Breanna. And none ever would.
But there was more.
“Look over there, Derek. Something you don’t see every day.”
Racing down the track away from them were not one but three carts, the drivers in the now familiar low slung seat, the carriage whips flicking the pistoning thighs of the girls locked in the traces of their respective carts. A great cloud of dust obscured them as they rounded the far turn, but Derek saw enough. More women, just like they’d had Breanna. The sight left him dumbfounded … and unbearably aroused.
You’re lost, Derek.
Perhaps he was, but the time to fight that fact, to deny that change, was past. Now, he needed to see if he could be at peace with this person he’d become. There was no going back from the truth in him revealed by this place, and by the unexpected love of a good woman — even if soon, he’d be leaving all of it.
They walked up to the railing, Kurt laying a hand on the bright white of the top rung and scanning the crowd on the other side of the track.
“What are you looking for?”
“Odds makers,” Kurt said, with a wink.
“Um,
what
?”
“There.” Kurt pointed at two men standing off to one side of the high-stepping Shae. The shorter of the two men was busy tapping something into a black tablet computer, his taller companion gesturing at the displayed woman. “Those two. We need to talk to them first.”
“Odds makers? We doing sports betting here too at the farm? Is cockfighting next?”
“Dickhead. Come on, we need to get a bead on the competition.”
A chuckle sounded behind them. “Might want to make sure all the competition is here before you make your wager, son.”
Derek turned toward the voice. A tall, muscular man with graying black hair stood with a striking woman dressed in a navy skirt that left most of her lush bare thighs exposed. Her white sleeveless blouse was extremely low cut, her full breasts threatening to spill out. The man, his charcoal gray suit impeccably cut, looked to be in his late forties, his keen dark eyes studying both men. His female companion, tottering on heels so high Derek wasn’t sure how she managed to walk in them, beamed a warm smile, brushing a lock of dark blonde hair from her eyes.
Kurt grinned, extending a hand. “George! Goddamn, it’s good — ah, I mean, sir.” Kurt cleared his throat. “Great to have you here, sir.”
“Quit it with that ‘sir’ bullshit, Kurt. Out here, it’s just me.” The gold of George’s cufflink flashed in the sunlight as he shook Kurt’s hand. Then he indicated his companion. “This is my wife, Elaina.”
“George couldn’t wait to get me out to meet you,” she said, shaking Kurt’s hand. “I can’t believe what you’ve done with this place.”
“I think we might have met once before,” Kurt said, his mouth quirking. “At the last Retreat? I — well, maybe I’m thinking of someone else.”
Her blush managed to be both subtle and charming, and she looked to her husband. “I was … indisposed.”
“It’s possible. She was a
busy
girl, that weekend.” George’s lips curled in a half smile, inclining his head toward his wife.
Her blush deepening, she nodded, raising her gaze to Derek, despite her embarrassment. “Are you the new man we’ve heard so much about?”
Derek exchanged glances with Kurt.
“I’m sorry, Derek. This is George and Elaina Trask.” Kurt’s gaze hardened a split second. “Quinton’s parents.”
Derek felt a flash of anger, followed by a tense unease. Just the mention of Quinton’s name reminded him of what Kurt had told him to expect. He wasn’t looking forward to what might happen. Not one bit.
But he plastered on his best faux smile and shook both their hands. He noted the softness of Elaina’s skin, and the giant ruby studding the band on her right ring finger. “I — I guess I’m the new man, all right. I’m — hell, I have
no
idea what I’m doing here. But yeah, I’m Derek York. It’s nice to meet you.”
She flashed her smile again, and Derek took an instant liking to the warm, attractive woman. He even managed to keep his eyes on hers and not on her blatantly exposed cleavage.
That’s a first, Sir Pervsalot.
“So who’s the new competition, George?” Kurt leaned an arm over the railing. “I didn’t know you even paid attention to these events.”
“I don’t, but lately I’ve been … intrigued. I’ve heard a lot of good things about the … plans, for this place.” George’s eyes met his wife’s for a moment. “So, I decided to investigate. Was nice to get away from all the rain and gloom anyway.”
“New girl, then?” Kurt snorted. “I half expected you to say Quinton was racing one.”
“He is.”
Kurt’s lips tightened to a thin line. “Oh, I see. That’s fine, of course.”
George smiled, shaking his head. “But he’s not the only one.”
“He’s … not?”
Derek watched Elaina’s throat work as she swallowed.
“No, I’m entering a filly, too.” George took Elaina’s hand, guiding her to stand between the three men. “She’ll do well, I think — with a little training.”
“You — your wife?” Kurt pursed his lips, glancing from Elaina then back to George. “We — I’d have to outfit her, like the others. I could try to get them to make an exception …”
“Oh no,” George said, with a quick shake of his head. “She’ll go in just like the rest. No exceptions. She’s been before — though it’s been a few years. I know she’ll get up to speed in no time though.”
“Ah, okay. I’ll see to getting her added to Kort’s list. I was just about to go see him anyway.”
George produced a set of leather manacles from his suit pocket, and made Elaina present her hands. “Shall we have your man take her in then? I’m sure she needs to be harnessed up and all that, yes?”
“I — well, Lino’s already in the stables with Breanna.”
“Ha! How is he? I knew he’d be a perfect fit for something like this. Matches his unique … talents.” George looked to Derek, cinching the manacles tight and holding up Elaina’s bound wrists. Her face had gone quite pale. “Care to escort this filly back to the evil Spaniard, Mr. York? I’m sure he’ll love having two little victims to work on at once.”
Derek looked to Kurt, who nodded, raising an eyebrow.
“Great!” George clapped a hand to Kurt’s shoulder, his expression darkening. “There’s just a couple of things we should talk about though. Before they get this thing started.”
“Oh,” Kurt gave Derek a quick glance, and waved him on. “Well, we’ve got time before the first one starts. What can I do for you?”
Derek didn’t hear the rest though as the two men walked away along the railing, George gesticulating urgently as he talked.
Elaina made a soft sound, and he looked at her, suddenly feeling sheepish. “I’m sorry. I — I can let you go by yourself, if you know how to get back to the stables.”
The woman gave him a small smile, and clasped his forearm with her bound hands. “I’m afraid I don’t. And I’d much rather have some company, if you don’t mind.”
“Of — of course.”
Then, feeling like a horse’s ass, and trying to ignore the stirring between his legs at the swell of her hips in the tight skirt, he grasped her upper arm, guiding her along as he walked her toward the stable block.
* * *
T
hey found Lino in the harnessing area, Breanna’s arms stretched skyward by a length of chain, the balls of her booted feet just touching the dusty floorboards. Derek led Elaina in behind him, Breanna’s blue eyes watching, her brows knit.
“Miss Elaina,” Lino said from behind the panting Breanna. He finished with the last lace at the small of her back, the black leather of Breanna’s harness reaching from the tops of her hips all the way to her thick collar. Her heavy breasts, fully exposed by cutouts in the harness, rested on quarter cups that separated and lifted the globes, the nipples already hard, her smooth ivory skin a striking contrast to the light-absorbing blackness of the leather.
“You know her?” Derek looked back at the impassive, pale, face of Elaina then back to Lino.
“Oh yes.” Lino beckoned with a hand. “Bring her here. You finish with our
fulana
.”
Sensing just the hint of reluctance in Elaina’s body, Derek held up her manacled hands for the Spaniard. “Sounds like she’s racing too.”
“Much to do then.” Lino took her manacles in a tanned hand, using them to turn Elaina in place, looking her up and down. He dropped his voice. “Lower your eyes, Miss Elaina.”
“What are we, ah, doing here?”
Derek wanted to snatch his words out of the air, the stupidity of them almost physically painful.
“Watch closely, Mr. Derek.” Lino tugged Elaina over to the back wall of the harnessing area, then pointed at the dull black of the cast iron hook mounted high on the wall. “Hands up, Miss Elaina.”
She froze, looking at Lino then up at the hook.
Lino’s hand slapped her skirt-clad bottom, the sound surprisingly sharp. She yelped with it, then reached up toward the hook. “I — I can’t.”
“Higher. Yes, you can do it.” Lino gripped the cuffs, hauling them up the last inch to hang over the hook. The constricted flesh shone white as the leather dug into her delicate hands.
Lino turned to Derek. “You see this?” The Spaniard’s finger tapped Elaina’s wrist, her hands already darkening as they became congested with blood. “This is not right way to secure slaves. Dangerous for joints, circulation.” Lino flashed his wolfen grin. “But for short minute, it puts filly’s mind where it belongs.”
“Let her down then, Lino. Jesus.”
The Spaniard held up a finger, giving him a slight shake of his head, the dark curls of his hair moving. “Wait.”
He moved to the cabinet, opening it with a creak of the hinge.
Elaina’s breath came quickly, her ribcage heaving, one of her heels falling askew as she balanced on the balls of her feet.
“Derek, she’s not—”
He pressed his finger to Breanna’s lips. “It’s okay.”
He’d never seen Lino go too far yet. Not really. He didn’t know why, but Derek was willing to give the stern trainer the benefit of the doubt. He trusted that Lino wouldn’t
truly
hurt Elaina.
Not quite.
Lino closed the cabinet and turned to Elaina, a gleam of metal in his hand.
A knife?
“Holy shit!” Derek strode forward, laying a hand on the Spaniard’s shoulder. “Lino what the fuck are you doing?”
“Relax, Mr. Derek.” Lino looked at the hand on his shoulder, then locked eyes with Derek. “Filly won’t be hurt. Watch.”
Derek dropped his hand, cursing softly. “I can’t believe I’m letting you do this.”
Elaina stilled, seeming to press herself to the plane of the wall, her legs trembling. She whimpered as the blade slipped under the thin fabric of the neckline of her blouse.
The chains still suspending Breanna’s arms clinked together as she turned. Derek stroked her neck to comfort her, though his eyes stayed riveted to the scene playing out against the wall.
The sharp blade slit through the fabric effortlessly, the two halves of the garment falling away to either side. The long lines of Elaina’s body quivered like a leaf in the breeze, Lino murmuring softly to her, urging her to be still.
Lino tugged the destroyed blouse clear, letting it slip to the floorboards. Elaina’s ribcage moved with her quickened breathing.
The blade caught the light, flashing, as Lino inserted it carefully into his boot, dropping to a knee to draw down the zipper of Elaina’s skirt. Soon the tight skirt and a skimpy pair of pink lace panties joined the tattered blouse on the floor.
“Yes, yes.” Lino stood up, stepping back to peruse Elaina’s charms. “I have heard stories about this
culo.
They were right, Mr. Derek.”