She gulped and raised one eyebrow. “I’m glad you didn’t mention the hammer and chisel and skin in the same sentence.”
Coll laughed. Would she ever lose the ability to surprise him? He hoped not.
Chapter Seven
Two hours later, Finn blinked and stifled a yawn, as their—she thought of them as their, as everyone seemed to couple her and Coll together—friends made their farewells and left the castle. It hadn’t seemed at all strange to be part of a noisy arguing and very much Dom and sub group. Not even one where the main subject was how to string Donny, her boss, up by his balls.
Lachy, both Donny’s uncle and boss to Finn, had looked as if he was about to have an apoplexy when Finn recounted what had gone on. She decided in the end to be honest about everything she knew. She didn’t say a word about Donny’s presumed whereabouts but Lachy had grimaced.
“In bloody Mandy McGee no doubt. I thought he’d seen the light about the bike.”
Finn wondered what on earth Lachy was talking about. Coll must have realized.
“The village bike, everyone rides her,” he elaborated.
Finn firmed her lips so as not to giggle. She’d never heard that one, and the way they all referred to the screwing as him in her, not in her bed, tickled her sense of humor.
As Coll shut the door on Jeff, the last to go with a ‘yeah, okay, we’ll see you tomorrow for lunch,’ Finn stretched. Depp, who’d been on her lap, yowled and stood by the door expectantly. He’d learned within a few minutes his litter tray was in the utility and his food in the kitchen.
“Okay, cat, here we go.” Coll opened the door into the kitchen area and turned to Finn. “You go to bed, I’ll sort this one out. Coffee what time?”
“I’m salivating. Around eight maybe? That’ll give me a lie in.”
The memory of his ‘
eight is a lie in, you’re a hard task master’
and his laugh accompanied her into her room. She was sure he was usually up well before that. Mind you, she also guessed he wasn’t generally up quite as late—or should that be so early.
The bed was big, soft and didn’t have all the interesting attachments that his did. Finn wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or disappointed. She switched the light off and snuggled down.
There was a tap at the door. “Finn, if you’re decent, can I bring you a bedfellow? A furry one.”
She giggled. “Of course.”
The door opened and the shape of Coll was silhouetted in the light from the corridor. Finn switched on the bedside lamp, conscious that she’d gone to bed naked. The castle was a lot warmer than her cottage and the flannelette, pink elephant jammies she usually wore were way too hot. Now she wished she’d at least put a vest top on.
Ah well, the duvet’s over me.
“Would he not settle?”
Coll rolled his eyes. “Understatement of the year. I could hear him from my room. Rather than have no door left or a squashed cat, I took him into my room, but he still yowled. I decided you’d be his security blanket.”
He dropped the kitten on the bed. “Do you want his basket or is he used to sharing your bed?”
“No, he is not, the chancer. He stops in his basket in front of the Aga.”
“That’s it then, I’ll have to get a basket in front of the Aga.” Coll sat on the edge of her bed. “Evidently without one just doesn’t hack it for him. We won’t want to be three in a bed.”
True enough
. Not that she had any intention of saying that out loud.
Coll leaned forward and kissed her gently on the cheek. “Sleep tight and we’ll talk a bit more tomorrow.” He moved back and Finn missed his warmth, and wished he’d take things just a little bit further.
Tongues?
“I’ll make a list of my questions.” She croaked the words. Her mouth wouldn’t work properly as he stood up and walked to the door.
“I’ll think of some suitable answers then. Night, kitten, and, er, kitten…” He went out as she giggled then stared at the cat curled up on top of the duvet.
“Don’t get used to this. It’s for one night only.”
Depp miaowed.
* * * *
Three weeks later she remembered those words.
Life had gone on more or less as usual. They’d decided to leave Donny alone and watch him carefully. His wife, who they discovered had an idea what her husband was up to and had no intentions of hurrying back, was easily persuaded to stop away for another month, stating her mother wasn’t well enough to be left. Finn continued to do her work and act as if nothing had happened. And the others made plans.
Her talk with Coll and their look around the club had been postponed so many times that if she hadn’t seen his frustration, she would have thought he’d changed his mind. She knew he hadn’t. The expression in his eyes whenever they were unobserved told her that.
However they were both on a knife edge.
Coll leaned against the work surface in the kitchen with a mug of coffee in his hands and stared moodily into it. Dressed in scuffed work boots, well-worn jeans, which were white at the seams and a chunky cable-knit jumper that reflected the color of his eyes, he looked mad, bad and dangerous to know. As well as hot, hunky, and her newly coined word for how he made her feel, horniferous.
Finn’s pussy muscled clenched and released as she took her fill of him. Each night they’d talked, just a little, and now with some time to spare, he’d promised to show her around the club that night, whilst it was empty.
She thought she had an inkling of the man he was, especially when he’d been frank about his favored proclivities. “To trace a design on skin, just as I do on wood, is pleasure beyond anything else. Be it with my scriber, the tip of a knife, my Shibari ropes or a flogger. What I achieve, how my sub flies and takes herself further than she ever thought possible, is more than a reward. It’s my reason for whom I am, what I am. It’s…” Coll had hesitated. “It’s me.” He’d looked faintly embarrassed, but she knew what he meant.
“As much a part of you as your wood carving is?”
“More probably. I could manage not to wood carve, I couldn’t manage not to be a Dom.”
She loved his honestly, but it made her think. Every day this man became more important to her, but she still wasn’t sure if she could be a true part of his life. He’d made no bones about wanting her as his sub. That in itself didn’t bother her, but scribing and flogging weren’t things she thought she’d be happy with. As they were only one part of BDSM, it hadn’t troubled her unduly until they spoke in more depth. Now she knew she could never ask him not to do such things. His eyes lit up when he described the artistic side of scribing. And she was sure she would never be able to accept him doing anything to someone else and not her. Not if they were involved in other ways.
He’d shown her his toys and implements and afterwards in the privacy of her own room, Finn had used the memory of how he held them—like a lover—and described them to get herself off. It had been one of the best climaxes in an age. Nevertheless it wasn’t enough. She needed more, even if she wasn’t quite ready for the scriber and flogger to be used on her for any length of time. She did want to feel…
Little did Coll know she intended to ask him for a private demonstration that night. He intended to show her around the club, and Finn thought her head set would be more attuned to such things there.
Maybe.
But for now she had a day at work to get through.
“What’s up?” She poured a second cup of coffee and waved the pot in Coll’s direction. “Want a top up?”
Coll shook his head. “No thanks, I’m fine. How on earth you don’t get caffeine shakes is beyond me.”
“Practice. Now stop changing the subject, Sir.” She tagged on the title deliberately. They’d decided she’d use it in the club that night, to, as she put it, get used to it just in case. She’d found as the days went on and they unconsciously assumed the Dom and sub personas she used it more and more. “What’s wrong?”
Coll put his mug down, hauled her to her feet and kept his hands on her shoulders whilst he studied her face. “Lachy rang up whilst you were in the shower. Do you remember last year when you found that barbed wire near the old quarry? And you and Lachy made it unusable?”
She nodded as her stomach went hollow and then became invaded by butterflies. “Yeah, when poults were being poisoned and going missing.”
“Well, it had vanished yesterday when Lachy was over there. He’s just found it.”
She didn’t want to ask, but had to. “Where?”
“Around your car tires, primarily.”
“The bastards, why?”
“He thinks that’s because your house still looks lived in with flowers on the window ledge and people in and out throughout the day. After all one of us”—by us he meant the select few in on their plans—“are around and inside most of the time. He reckons and I agree with him that it was a vindictive warning.”
Finn saw red. “Okay, enough is enough. What are we going to bloody do?”
“Donny is going to be called in for a meeting with Jeff, Jess and Lachy this afternoon. Jeff decided they’ve got enough on this without involving you, and it would be best if you carried on as normal. Make it appear as if we’re doing nothing. Lachy has deliberately looked at the work plans and noted where Donny wasn’t. Which is most places. He’ll be given his options, and just in case it’s best you don’t know them. Then all of us, except of course Donny, meet here at seven and decide on plans. You and I are then going on a tour. After that?” He spread his hands. “Who knows?”
“And until then I’d best go and do some work.” Finn’s body tightened at the thought of their tour. She leaned into Coll and let him hug her close before she melted into his kiss. Deeper than before her body tightened as their tongues meshed and her knickers grew damp. Damned work.
“Looking forward to the tour, Sir.”
“Hmm.” Coll broke the kiss and rested his chin on the top of her head. “And me. For now, I’d rather just carry on what we were doing, but I guess we better do as planned. Lachy said to tell you you’ll be watched in case anything is going on we don’t know about. He said to do your famous yodel if you’re worried. Yodel?”
“Ah, yeah. I do a great Frank Ifield. My dad taught me.” She opened her mouth and did a beautiful yodel-eh-ee-ohhh. “Evidently it echoes round here.”
Coll shook his head and pressed his ears. “Well, it echoes around my head anyway. Give a Sir some notice, kitten. I like my eardrums as they are.”
“Ooops, sorry, Sir.” She knew fine well she wouldn’t look sorry. After all, she had the devil in her and was enjoying it. “If you hear that, it’s my whistle for help. My SOS if you like. I intend not to use it. Right, gotta dash. See you around five. Oh, and Depp is on the bed.” The cat, although resigned to sleeping in his basket, snuck into the bedroom at any opportunity. He’d been too quick for Finn as she’d exited earlier and as Coll remarked wryly, she was too soft hearted to move him.
“Take care, love.” Coll did his usual kiss on her head and nose and then ran his thumb over her jaw. She loved it, it was their own personal, well, if not quite, ‘love you’, ‘think a lot of you gesture’. She did her usual return, a caress of his cheek and a finger over his lips. She’d heard of protocol, was this theirs?
Who knew, and she really didn’t have time to think about it then. She was almost late and there were things to do. It might be well on into the season, but as ever a few late arrivals had appeared several weeks after the rest of the flock had lambed. And of course some were orphans and needed a helping hand. Or a baby’s bottle.
Finn left the house at a run, scrambled onto a new—not the one appropriated by Donny—quad bike and headed across the estate.
She seemed never to stop moving at a rate of knots all day. By the time five o’clock came, she had that nasty ‘something is up’ itch between her shoulder blades, and had only managed a cup of Lachy’s wife’s homemade soup followed by a dash to the loo. Now she was filthy and starving. At least once she got back to Diomhair, she could shower and eat something. Not a lot, she decided as she started the bike and zoomed across the ruts and furrows that criss-crossed the rugged pasture land. If all the books were right, you shouldn’t play on a full tummy, and in some way she wanted to play. Even if… Her imagination failed her. If what, she had no idea what but the only way to find out if she could do anything was to try.
Finn made her way downward and headed for the gate that opened onto the track, which led toward the castle. She slowed, navigated the bike through the gateway and shut the gate behind her. Then she got back on to the vehicle and opened the throttle. The track sloped steeply away from the field, which was near the top of the estate and where fields met moor, and twisted its way downward. As the bike bumped and jerked over a very deep rut, Finn turned the handle to navigate the last bad bend, and pulled on the brakes.
The bike went straight on. Missed two trees, a thorn bush and a clump of nettles, bumped over the bank of a stream and stopped dead in the water, hissing gently. As she bounced up out of the seat and down again, her mobile phone flew out of her pocket and landed in the stream.
Sod it and fuck.
She’d not fastened the zip right across.
Finn shook, turned the ignition off and swore again. This was getting to be a joke. No, not a joke, a sick game and she was fed up of playing it. Her body had turned to jelly, her mind to mush, and some arsehole had tried to kill her. Well, fuck them. Was peppering them with shot considered to be good self-defense? Tough, if it wasn’t. She took her gun out of its carrying case and made it ready.
Now what?
Finn pocketed the bike keys—it might not be rideable now, but she wasn’t handing it to any old Tom, Dick or Harry to make off with and fix. She’d worked hard and waited a long while for it. She thought for a second. As the crow flew, it was less than half a mile to Lachy’s house and not much more in a different direction to the barn Coll worked in.
With a grin, and a swift prayer her prowess was as good as she boasted, Finn pursed her lips.
And yodeled.
Then she sat down to wait on a convenient rock.