Don't... (36 page)

Yeah, so I could see Jack’s pull to this guy, damn my soul.

We made our way the usual route, through the lobby and up into an elevator to the third floor. But where we’d turned left toward the main Master hall a few days ago, we headed right, past a few offices, and into what looked like a lounge with all the mod cons needed to take five.

I’d heard a fair few rowdy voices from outside of the big double doors, but as we’d gone through, silence descended pretty quickly and eyes flickered in our direction. Gray didn’t seem bothered. He made his way through the crowds, bodies flocking one way or another out of his way, then seeming to close in behind him, accepting him, but never quite quick enough to keep him there.

For a moment I was blocked off, then I heard this shout of delight, and a moment later a flurry of long skirt and slip top was coming at me out of the crowd.

“Jan.” Jess flung her arms around my neck before I’d really caught on just who she was, and I had to step back to adjust my weight so we didn’t fall over.

“Jess?”

“Oh God, Jan. This place.” She’d already pushed me to arm’s length and was looking around trying to take everything in. “I didn’t, I didn’t know anything like this existed and....”

I got another hug as Gray came over with a slight raise of brow, but a smile touching his lips nevertheless.

“Your man.” Jess bit at her lips and worry came to her eyes. “Oh, God, Jan. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t.” She was throwing her gaze between me and Gray, then chose to settle on me. “Is he all right?”

I nodded, then couldn’t stop my smile seeing Jess milk the relief and fan her neck. “He’s a tough cookie,” I added.

“The hottest cookie I’ve ever seen, no wonder a Master claims him,” said Jess, nudging me gently. “Just dip him in hot chocolate and bite—” She stopped herself as Gray coughed, but still managed a beautiful smile as she clasped her hands together like a freshman realising the first day of college opened up a whole load of other doors that kept a firm “No parents allowed” sign handy. “This place....”

Gray went close and whatever he whispered in Jess’s ear was lost to the low chatter that picked up. Jess half-turned her head to Gray, then threw a look my way, her smile pulling from wide to just plain mischievous. As Gray pulled back, Jess spun away and vanished into the crowd.

A nod from Gray, I followed him through the crowds, through a side door, into a hall, then down into a room that had every feel of a lecturer’s study.

I shut the door behind me and looked back into the room to see Gray leaning on the edge of a mahogany desk. Books filled the walls, and here and there glass showcases highlighted art, not to mention—

“You’re kiddin’ me,” I said, noticing a particular piece just off to Gray’s left. One isolated painting had been given pride of place in the drinks’ bar, and I went over to stand looking at it.

“Charge at Mametz Wood? Christopher Williams?” I couldn’t believe it. The mass of bodies and fight for space was undeniable. Gray came over and looked up. “I thought this was at the National Museum and Gallery in Wales?”

“On loan from,” said Gray softly. “You know this piece? The battle at Mametz between the Prussians and the Welsh?”

I nodded, a little distracted. “First battle of the Somme. It was commissioned by David Lloyd George, the Secretary of State for War to commemorate the courage of the Welsh 38 division. They were slaughtered that day.” I winced. “So, too, were a lot of Prussians.”

“The painting is the symbolism of bravery and commitment.”

I was still a little dumbstruck, not used to being around this level of art without a barrier between. “To others the symbolism of massacre, chaos, and futility,” I murmured.

“‘
Today I found in Mametz Wood, a certain cure for lust and blood
.’”

“Robert Graves,” I said, loving the quote. “Were you aware his division was assigned to clear up the mess of Mametz Wood?”

“I was, yes.”

Under echo of the red dragon in the oil on canvas, bodies were piled so high you could barely tell which soldier fought for which company. “‘
Sneak home and pray you’ll never know, The hell where youth and laughter go
.’”

“Sassoon,” mumbled Gray. “Were you aware he served at Mametz Wood?”

My turn. “Yes, I was,” I said and frowned at Gray when I heard his soft laugh. “What?”

“Jan, you’ve just walked through a lounge packed full of Doms and subs, a fair few who would have stripped and ridden you senseless before you’d covered half of that lounge if I’d given the nod, yet your awe is found in a painting.”

I scratched at my head and gave a shrug. “Each to his own, I suppose.” Gray shook his head. “But I’m not completely blind.” I smiled. “I know you have Welsh roots,” I said, watching as he poured a drink.

He glanced up. “What makes you say that?”

“That’s not the only Welsh piece here.” I’d seen the books beneath the painting. “Works from Asser, Cothi, C.S. Lewis.”

“Lewis was born in Belfast.”

I laughed this time. He didn’t fool me. “He’s of Welsh descent.”

“Ah,” said Gray. He had a sip of his drink, and I took offence he hadn’t offered me one when I saw him walk away. “You know Jack has stood in that very spot over the past ten years and never made the connection.”

“Yeah, well.” I glanced up at the painting. “Knowing Jack, he was trying to figure out a way to stand up the dying men and arrange them in neat little rows.”

Gray sounded good when he laughed, and I kept winning them from him. “You’ve noticed that too, huh?”

“Well, in all fairness, you did warn me.”

“Knowing is nothing compared to experience,” he said, taking a seat, and I nodded.

“I’m surprised my clock has lasted as long as it has. I keep catching him eyeing it with this really serious frown on his face. And I worried when I saw the paper in my cupboard; I haven’t yet told him I’ve thrown it away.”

“Why I rarely bring him here nowadays,” said Gray, his eyes alive. “I’m not about to encourage the art thief in him.”

“Look a bit comical, though, trying to see him walk out with that in his coveralls.” I indicated to the painting.

“I doubt it would make it that far.” Gray pulled this distasteful face. “He’s a pyromaniac for a reason.”

I made a mental note to hide anything valuable at that point. Hell, I made a note to lock anything out of Jack’s comfort zone in some deep, dark vault. Burning art, literature; I’d have to kill him, or lock
him
in some deep, dark vault. Then I sobered pretty quickly knowing that it was hurt to Jack that had brought me here.

“Do you trust Jess?” I asked quietly, keeping my eyes on the painting. There was nothing but silence behind me and I turned to face Gray. “I know it’s my screw-up that brought her here, and she seems out of her depth like Jack suggested, but.” I shrugged. “Do
you
trust her?” Not that I needed him to give me the okay over anything, but he knew how to check someone out, and I needed
that
level of reassurance knowing just what I was involved with now.

Gray took a long sip on his drink. I wasn’t stupid, maybe her being just a few rooms down from me now should have been enough to say Gray was giving her the benefit of his trust and I’d just offended the hell out of him, but I’d fucked-up enough where Jack was concerned. I needed to hear him confirm she was safe.

Gray twisted the glass in his hand, eyeing me for a while. “She has no criminal records, and all passport, driving licence, and medical history records confirm her identity,” he said eventually. “Born as Kieran Forbes, July 26th, 1989, in Yorkshire, she comes from a family of medical practitioners, mother a paediatric consultant, father a local doctor. She had a rough time growing up as she battled sexuality, going through three secondary schools before the age of fifteen. Managed to leave with very decent qualifications, but didn’t really follow them up with university, just seemed content to get herself checkout work and cruise through life. From discussions with other Dom circles, she’s not a known sub to any community. She’s had two boyfriends, one live-in for two years, the other a rebound when that relationship came to an end. Both boyfriends are unknown to the Dom community.”

“All that in less than twenty-four hours?” I said, offering a smile, but then I let it slip. “Yet she was still with Keal.” People got into the wrong crowds, Jack being living proof of that, and I forced a sigh. Knowing Gray, he’d continue digging, but Jess sounded like she’d had enough struggles of her own to then go and cause trouble for anyone else. “And she likes her coffee how?” I added, finding a little devilment.

There was a tap on the door, and Gray gave me a wink. “Orders direct from an organic manufacturer, Organo Gold’s Gourmet Black Coffee, as she’s caffeine intolerant. No sugar.” He broke away from the conversation to say, “Come in.”

And maybe it was just as well Gray hadn’t given me a drink.

Jess came on through, her hair long, loose and falling over shoulders, this slip of a short silk dress making it look like she’d poured her gorgeous body into it. Red. I’d never been around a guy who wore a dress, certainly not one who wore a dress like
that
. She was every part female, mannerisms, shape of long legs, small frame, yet when she’d sat on my lap, male had made its presence known, and every confusion in me had disappeared. She came into her own looking like that; and it was a damn shame she’d been bullied; nobody in their right mind should have tried to stop this kind of metamorphism.

“This way, Jess, Jan,” said Gray, forcing me to look away. I thought I’d left him behind the desk drinking, now he was up on his feet and holding open a door. “Training in session,” he said quietly.

I let Jess go before me and followed her down a flight of stairs. The ground levelled out, but I couldn’t make much out, and even managed to tread on Jess’s foot, which made her hiss and do gentle hops that clicked high heels on wood and had me reaching with a smile to say sorry. Gray’s soft command turned up the lights, and I was a little disappointed to find we were in a small hall. No chairs, no table, no windows, nothing but a taste for old oak flooring and mirrored walls. Maybe a gym of some sorts?

“Jess, can you tell me the first rule of being a sub?”

Jess backed up to stand a good few feet opposite me. Hair falling about her face, she dropped chin to chest, knelt on the floor, and I saw silk inch its way up higher on her thighs.

“Respect, my lord.”

“Jan, can you tell Jess the first rule of being a Dom?”

That didn’t take much to figure out. All I saw was Jack kneeling there. “Respect,” I said quietly.

“Good.” Gray stood just off centre to us. “Can you both tell me what comes after respect.”

Again, some lessons were already learned. “Trust,” we both chorused.

“They are the fundamental core of Dom and sub, anything else that comes in between,” he indicated to the space between us, “is imagination based on those core concepts.”

Gray went over and stood just behind Jess. “Can you stand, please?” Gray held his hand out and Jess slipped hers into his and came to her feet.

“What do you fear as a sub, Jess?”

Jess glanced behind her slightly, then looked at me. “Deception, my lord.”

“Why?”

There was nothing stimulating in this. Jess looked shaken; she
was
shaking. Jess took the hem at her left and lifted the silk up to expose her thigh. A burn, much longer and more vicious than Jack’s lay beneath a film covering. It looked recent. Last night recent. Gray whispered something in Jess’s ear again and the loveliest smile crossed her face. She let the dress fall back into place as Gray came over to me.

“What do you fear as a Dom? Be careful, Jan. I know you better than you think.”

Yeah, maybe he did.

“Being a Dom,” I answered flatly.

“Why?”

“The BDSM scene. Not knowing what I’m doing. Hurting Jack.” It was simple enough, and Gray nodded.

“Who is in this room, Jan?”

I looked around and shrugged. “You, me, Jess....”

“Where is the BDSM scene?”

I stumbled. “What do you mean?”

“Simple enough question, Jan.” Gray came behind me. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. “Where is the BDSM scene?”

I glanced over at Jess.

“Struggling a bit, huh?” said Gray. “Jess, can you name three Doms and three subs from the lounge?”

She rolled off six names and Gray had to raise a hand when she started on she
knew them because they were a friend of
....

“How long have you been here, Jess?”

She settled herself. “Twenty-four hours, my lord.”

“How long have you been in training, Jan?”

Now I knew where this was going. “Seven days.”

“
What
is the BDSM scene, Jan?”

I think I noticed Jess for the first time. “People,” I said quietly. “Lives, feelings, experience.”

“Life is not a picture, a concept, or stereotypical association.” Gray said quietly. “You’ve spent a lifetime looking at pictures, looking at life from the outside, Jan, you disconnect from the reality of the world around you.”