“I’m surprised she speaks English without an accent.” It occurred to him that he didn’t just have to worry about Charlie. He had to figure Chelsea out, too. Charlie had given up a lot for her sister.
“I made sure she kept up her English. When we were alone, we always spoke in English. We both speak fluent Russian though, and you wouldn’t be able to tell us from native speakers when we get going. My father hated the fact that he didn’t have a son, but he wasn’t about to be embarrassed by ignorant daughters. My dad had it in his head that he was a czar. Czar’s kids had tutors. Ours happened to be from LA. He was a really smart man, but he ran afoul of my dad’s gambling organization.”
“So he paid off his debt by teaching you and Chelsea.”
“When he wasn’t drunk, he was an excellent tutor,” Charlie admitted.
He hated to think about her childhood. His father might have walked out on them, but at least he and Sean had their mother. She hadn’t been the strongest woman and Ian had been forced to grow up fast, but she hadn’t left them alone with drunks or tortured them to make them strong.
The world could torture a man enough. He didn’t need family members to help the process along.
Chelsea left her spot at the back of the crowd and entered the lounge. She gave a fleeting nod her sister’s way, but seemed to have a goal in mind. She stared at the bar for a moment.
Simon was sitting on a stool beside Jesse, both men with beers in their hands. Jillian took Simon’s empty mug. She kept a stash of his favorite beer in the back and was soon returning with a pint glass. Jesse had what looked to be a Bud in his hand. Straight out of the can. God, he was going to have to work on that kid’s decorum.
“This should be interesting,” he murmured, his hand going to Charlie’s hair. He had to keep up the illusion after all. “It looks like little sister picked a Dom for the night.”
Chelsea was walking straight up to Simon. Simon was dressed in leather pants and a vest with no shirt. Most nights he didn’t take a sub, preferring to spend his time in the bar, but a couple of times he’d negotiated with single subs. He seemed to prefer bondage play, where his sub was completely tied down. Simon had completed his ropes course within weeks of joining the team and now he was studying shibari with Alex.
Ian preferred more extreme play, as Charlie would soon discover.
“I would like to talk to you, Sir.” Chelsea used all the right words, but there was a brattiness to her tone that made Ian frown. At least Charlie knew how to manipulate him. She’d gone right to her knees when he’d caught her tossing Amanda out on her ass.
He’d planned to use Amanda to show Charlie that she couldn’t have everything her way. He should have known better. He’d picked Amanda because she was the one most likely to annoy the holy shit out of Charlie. He was a dumbass because he should have picked someone sweet, someone Charlie couldn’t take on.
Or maybe he’d known what she would do. Maybe it had been there in the back of his head.
He wasn’t about to tell her that he’d been waiting for someone to make a case to get rid of her. He wasn’t stupid. He’d never really bought Amanda’s act. Sure he’d screwed her a couple of times because she was convenient and amenable, but that didn’t mean he thought she was an angel. The subs needed to stand up for themselves, so he’d backed off. He was kind of with Charlie on that one. He would have tossed her out on her ear the minute she opened her mouth, but Eve and Grace had done the Southern-lady thing.
Charlie’s head had come up, and she was watching her little sister. Ian gently forced it back to his lap.
“She’ll be fine.”
“Do you really think Simon is the right Dom for her?” Charlie asked.
He wasn’t sure the Brit was right for anyone. Simon was rigid and hid a wealth of self-consciousness under his perfect exterior. Simon had fucked up in the near past, and he wasn’t over it yet. Nope. Simon likely wasn’t right for anyone now. “I think it’s a single encounter and he’ll either handle it or he won’t. Now stop talking. I can’t hear them when you talk.”
He knew he was being a gossipy old lady, but he kind of wanted to see how Charlie’s sister handled the Brit.
Simon turned, that aristocratic eyebrow arching. “Yes? Do you need something else? I don’t think those leggings are what I selected for you.”
Jesse had turned, and it was obvious from the kid’s expression that he was watching As the Dungeon Turns, too. His eyes went from Simon to Chelsea and back again.
“I got the clothes you gave me, but I requested something different from Master Ian.” She knew all the right things to say, but somehow she put a twist on the polite words to give them a sarcastic edge.
Simon’s eyes trailed across the bar, finding Ian’s and narrowing. “And he gave them to you?”
Ian didn’t move a muscle. Chelsea wasn’t wearing a collar and she was Charlie’s sister, so that put her firmly under Ian’s control and protection. But just for the briefest of seconds, he thought Simon might call him out on it. Interesting.
Simon broke eye contact and went back to his beer. “What do you want?”
“I’m in need of a session.” There was nothing soft or submissive about the way Chelsea spoke. She could have been walking into a department store and ordering a salesperson to bring her a shirt.
“Shit,” Charlie said under her breath. “I’ve tried to teach her proper behavior.”
Ian stroked her hair. “Hush. You can’t save her from this.”
“Are you asking me to play with you?” Simon asked. Even from where Ian was sitting he could see the cool appraisal in the way Simon looked Chelsea up and down.
She didn’t have her sister’s height. Chelsea was average, probably five foot six, and she wasn’t some starved supermodel. Ian was sure a crazed bitch like Amanda would likely call Chelsea fat, but Ian just thought she looked healthy. Amanda would be happier if someone fed her. Women got mean when they didn’t eat. Even Eve was much happier now that Alex was stuffing her with chocolates.
“Not at all,” Chelsea returned with a brisk shake of her head. “I’m asking you to flog me. I would need roughly thirty to forty minutes of your time. I prefer a thump to a sting. I would rather use deerskin falls, and I won’t be tied down.”
Ian groaned a little. Most subs knew not to sound like they were ordering a burger at a fast-food place.
Charlie was trying to see again. “I told you. I need to do the negotiating. She’s not good at this. She’s been in front of that computer so long she’s forgotten how to deal with actual human beings.”
“Get up here.” It was useless to not let her watch. She would wiggle and twist and probably get a crick in her neck. It was easier to pull her into his lap.
She sat herself right over his cock, and that damn little bit of spandex had already ridden up on her hips so that all that prevented penetration was his leathers. Because his cock knew what it wanted. It had been hard since the moment she’d dropped to her knees. Hell, he’d gotten aroused watching her haul Amanda out on her ass. If he didn’t have his leathers on, he knew damn well his cock would be trying hard to work its way inside her. He could let her sit on his cock and watch the world go by.
“Really?” Simon was asking, his voice low and sarcastic. “You have a list of demands for me, sub?”
Chelsea shrugged a little. “No. I assumed you were intelligent enough to remember what I wanted.”
Charlie buried her head in Ian’s shoulder. “I don’t want to see it.”
But Ian totally did. Fuck, he kind of lived for this shit. It was sad, but he accepted it. He was a voyeur in all things. He liked to watch people fuck when they did it well, and he sure liked to watch people fuck up. It was funny.
Simon stood, towering over Chelsea. “What did you say, sub?”
Chelsea seemed caught on the big Brit’s chest, her eyes staring at the place where his leather vest parted and showed off skin. “I was simply trying to explain what I need, Sir.”
“That’s so not going to work,” Ian said.
Charlie was looking again, her face hopeful. “Maybe she can pull it off.”
He grinned because there was no fucking way. “Wanna bet?”
Charlie shook her head and ducked in again. “No. I would lose.”
Simon brought his hand to Chelsea’s chin, forcing her to look up at his face, but there was a stubborn set to her eyes.
“No, Chels, come on. Soften up,” Charlie was saying.
“Nah, she’s about to commit assault and brattery on him. We should call Derek back,” Ian said.
Charlie made a vomiting sound. “That’s awful.”
It was. He was full of bad puns, but they almost never came out.
If he were sitting here with Grace or Eve, they would have already pointed out how rude it was to intrude on Simon and Chelsea’s conversation by listening in. Avery would already have begged him to intervene because her tender heart couldn’t stand conflict. Serena would be taking notes. Only Charlie was in the moment with him. Only she understood that the dramas playing out around them might not be meant for their entertainment, but damn they were fun to watch. Other subs would just sit quietly and would likely have laughed at his terrible joke, never calling him on his bad sense of humor. Not Charlie.
Why did the one woman he was comfortable with have to turn out to be the enemy?
“Maybe I have a few demands of my own,” Simon said.
Chelsea’s shoulders squared. “Fine. I’m willing to listen.”
“I’ll use the deerskin flogger. I have a very nice one I’ve been wanting to break in. Thud not sting, though I think you might like a little sting if you tried it. You will be naked and tied down.”
“She won’t do it,” Charlie whispered. “She was tied down when she had her legs broken. She can’t stand it.”
“All the more reason for her to face it with someone she trusts,” Ian replied. “I don’t think that’s going to be Simon.”
Chelsea’s jaw clenched, and she took a moment to reply. “Loose bindings, I keep my clothes.”
He looked down, and Charlie’s eyes had gone wide. Looked like Chelsea had a thing for Simon.
The Brit ran his fingertips from her neck to the collar of the tank top Chelsea was wearing. “I’ll give on the bindings, but no clothes.”
Ah, the Brit wanted to see some skin.
“Why? Do you want to see the cripple naked?” Chelsea asked, her voice hard.
“Ouch.” Charlie flinched.
“Yeah, that will get her in serious trouble,” Ian allowed. Self-mockery was brutally unappealing. He would rather be around a plain woman who thought she was beautiful than a beautiful one who complained she was plain.
“No. I want to see you naked, and if you keep talking like that it’s not a flogging you’ll get, it’s a spanking, and I promise you it will sting.” Every word out of his mouth was clipped and angry.
A long moment passed where they seemed connected. Maybe he’d been wrong about Simon not being ready. The big Dom was looking down at the computer-geek cutie like he could eat her alive.
Chelsea, for her part, seemed determined to prove she didn’t need to breathe.
Finally, she took a step back and turned to Jesse. “How about you?”
Simon stepped into her line of sight. “No.”
“What do you mean no? He can’t speak for himself?”
“Not if he wants to live he won’t.”
Jesse wisely kept his mouth shut.
“So if I don’t do what you want, I don’t get a Dom?” Chelsea’s hands went to her hips.
Simon shook his head. “You don’t get him no matter what you do, love. He’s in training. If you want to get what you need, you’ll negotiate. I’m willing to give up one of my usual demands.”
“And I was willing to allow you to tie me down,” she shot back. “You have no idea how hard that would be for me.”
“Then I’ll make it easy on you. All you have to do is take off what little clothes you’re wearing and I’ll take care of you. No bindings. Everything else your way.”
Chelsea simply turned and started to walk away. Simon watched as she left.
“Damn it.” Charlie leaned back into him again. “Now she’ll be in pain. She has a couple of scars. Who around here doesn’t? I don’t get what problem she has with being naked.”
“Because you’re a dreadful exhibitionist.” Charlie didn’t mind walking around in her own gorgeous skin. It was one of the things that attracted him. “She’s more normal, you know.”
He looked behind him and Alex was taking Eve off the cross, his hands moving gently across her body, their deep connection a palpable thing. Because they loved and trusted each other. Because they were in this life together until the end.
He could stroke Charlie’s hair all he liked. He could sit here and play with her, but he would always be waiting for her to walk away again. He didn’t like the hollow feeling it left in his gut, but there was a part of Ian that had begun pushing him to take everything from this time they had. Once the shit with Nelson shook down, he would have to let her go. But for now he could take her. He could revel in her.
“I’ll ask Ryan to take care of Chelsea. He’s married. He won’t have any interest in seeing her naked.” Ian wasn’t sure why he was doing this. Typically, he would allow the sub to flounder until she properly asked for what she wanted. It was part of the process. But Charlie would be worried about her sister, and he needed her calm and collected for what he was about to do. Brighton would be watching. Despite the fact that Derek thought they were a new couple, he also had to know damn well that Ian wouldn’t scene publically with someone he didn’t trust.
Well, until tonight.
Derek walked up and sat back down, his face a mask of frustration. “I just got a call from one of my men. They found a dead body at the hotel across from your office. Seventh floor.”
That happened faster than he would have liked. “That’s terrible. You can’t even trust five-star hotels anymore.”
“Cut the shit, Ian. I know I’m not telling you anything new. The seventh floor sounds just about perfect for taking a shot at you.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m keeping quiet for now. Give me something.”
He hated sharing. Sharing was for idiots, but right now sharing information would keep the woman on his lap from a likely waterboarding. Though she did look good wet…