Soul Rest: A Knights of the Board Room Novel (35 page)

He looked down at the hairband, twisted the balls, caressed her wrist around them. “I think about that little girl a lot, about what she would have dealt with as she grew up. How she would have found a sense of self-worth with a mother like that.” He looked up at her, holding her with his steady gaze. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. The things that made her uncomfortable in his expression were the same things that made her need to keep looking, holding that connection.

“I’ve found people are far stronger than they know. Adversity tests and shapes character. Some tests we pass, some we don’t. You’re a strong woman, Celeste. Terrifyingly strong.” He tightened his hand around her wrist, over the band. As he did, he leaned in again, brushed his lips over her cheek, put them to her ear in that way he had, where everything became about his scent, his heat, the whisper of his voice echoing inside her. “Let this remind you that you have someone in your corner. Someone who knows how strong you are, who wants to be with you. Who doesn’t ‘put up with you.’ I can’t wait to see you again, and I’ll be counting the minutes before I’m touching you again, talking to you, listening to what you have to say about damn near anything.”

He kissed her and rose, headed for the door. Her eyes landed on the nightstand. “Wait.”

She left the warmth of the bed, coming to him naked and bearing the container of cookies. His eyes slid over her, and then reached her face, a smile on his own that made her heart stutter. She put the container in his hand and, on second thought, took out two oatmeal cookies for herself and let him have the rest. “Because I ate most of your lunch and didn’t let you get any dinner,” she said.

“I had better things to eat last night,” he said, and then captured her lips in a hotter kiss as her cheeks warmed. He cupped her bottom, gave it a rough squeeze. “Get back in bed woman, before you freeze.”

But he cupped the back of her skull, holding her one extra second before he pulled back and left her, sliding out the room and closing the door behind him. He left so swiftly, she realized he was having a hard time tearing himself away from her, too. And that wasn’t a bad way to start the day.

She’d wondered what was waiting at the bottom of that downhill slide. Since last night, she’d discovered the answer.

His arms. Him. Ready to catch her.

“Get up, lazy bitch. Daylight’s wasting.”

Celeste came out of her doze to hear the cheerful, sultry voice, a mix of Lauren Bacall and Marilyn Monroe. A scant second later, she yelped and rolled out of the way, nearly tipping off the side of the bed as the owner of the voice jumped onto the mattress with both feet and tried to come down on her in a wrestling pin. Celeste would have vacated the bed entirely and taken a defensive stance, but she hadn’t left the cocoon of covers since Leland had departed, not wanting to disrupt the scent of him on her skin or the bedding. She’d dozed back off with her head on his pillow, nose against it.

“Hey, perv, I’m naked here,” she protested, blocking Marcie’s jabs as best she could while hanging onto the sheet for modesty. “Is this how you treat a guest?”

“You’re not a guest. You’re practically family, and it’s okay to abuse them.” Marcie settled back onto her heels in the tangle of bedding. “I’ve already been to the gym and kicked the asses of three guys twice my size. You should have been there. You could have helped.” Her brown eyes surveyed Celeste’s face, her bare shoulders. “But I see you had your own sparring session. Wish I could have helped with that.”

The wicked spark in her gaze had Celeste smiling. “Back off, skank. You got your own man.”

Marcie chuckled, then seized a pillow and began to beat Celeste about the head and shoulders with it. “Hey, hey,” Celeste yelped again, diving for the other pillow and fending off the blows as she grimly clutched her cover. “What the hell?”

“Oh. My. God. Leland freaking Keller? You couldn’t have mentioned you were dating a hot cop via email, text, phone call, carrier pigeon? Dana and Rachel nearly shit bricks.”

“Rachel eats too much healthy stuff to shit bricks. More like neatly packaged pellets that smell like rosemary and cilantro and fertilize organic gardens.” Fully awake now, Celeste managed to locate her clothes. Leland had left them folded neatly over the top of the occasional chair. Her garment bag was hanging in the open closet, her rolling tote on the floor beneath it. “And we’re not dating,” she added. “He doesn’t date.”

Marcie sat back on her heels again. She had her blonde hair pulled up in a ponytail and still wore her workout clothes, black leggings and a Danskin tank that showed off her fit body. She worked corporate investigations and excelled at it, but she’d been talking about applying to the Municipal Police Academy in New Orleans. Having just experienced how precarious a police officer’s life could be, and knowing how protective Ben O’Callahan was of all the women in his adopted K&A family, let alone his fiancée, Celeste wondered how Marcie and he would work that one out.

“Can you give me a minute to get dressed?”

“I’ve seen you naked before. We’ve taken showers at the gym, so I know all about your impressive rack and skinny ass.”

Except her skinny ass was sore and she was certain it bore noticeable marks, which made her self-conscious.

Marcie was marrying a hard-core sadist Dom. To Celeste’s mild mortification, it only took her a moment to put it together.

“Oh.” Her expression went from teasing to practical. “I have a great ointment from Rachel that helps you heal fast and keeps the skin sensitive. I’m kind of surprised, though. Leland isn’t usually that heavy-handed. Not that I know that firsthand,” she hastened to say, as Celeste narrowed her eyes. “Just info I’ve pulled out of Ben. I’ve never seen Leland play publicly. He doesn’t go to the clubs that often. Maybe because he’s a cop and has to be more careful about being recognized, but Ben thinks it’s more because it’s not his thing. He likes to be more one-on-one, all about him and his sub.”

“Marcie.” Celeste ran a hand through her hair. It bothered her, hearing it discussed like a singles tennis match, rather than something more personal. Which was stupid, since they had hardly been seeing one another long enough for her to be jealous. “Let me get dressed and then I’ll come down. Okay?”

“Sure. Okay.” But first Marcie came around the bed, and sat on the edge of it. Before Celeste could anticipate her friend, she slid her arms around her, hugged her close. “I’m so sorry about yesterday, Celeste. But I’m glad you’re okay. Really glad. Sorry. I should have come in a little more low-key. Wedding stuff has me in hyperdrive.”

Her strong arms were more welcome than Celeste had expected. She smelled like happiness and love, eau de bride-to-be. Celeste sighed, hugged her back. “You shouldn’t worry about me at all. This is your week. That’s why I didn’t want to intrude.”

“You’re no intrusion at all. Are you kidding? I’m happy to have you here.” When Marcie drew back, all Celeste saw in the young woman’s lovely face was sincerity. “If you remember, months ago I told you I wanted you to be here for as much of it as you could. You just forgot because you’re always in hyper-workaholic mode. So though I’m not glad of the reason, I’m glad you’re able to be here early. You can hang out at the house, do whatever you want today, but we do have a champagne brunch this morning out on the gazebo, my version of the bachelorette party.”

“What? You didn’t want to get drunk off your ass and do the pelvic grind with a bunch of hot strippers?”

Marcie chuckled. “I’m such a lightweight, I’d wake up in some biker lair with a tattoo of a pink poodle on my ass. Dana would make sure of it. No way. Besides, that ‘last night of freedom’ thing doesn’t make any sense to me. When Ben asked me to marry him, that’s when I felt like the whole world opened up to me. Everything that mattered.”

“Ugh. Eww. Gross.” Celeste pretended to stick her fingers down her throat and Marcie shoved at her, grinning.

“See, if you were still writing the business social column, you’d have a great quote. Very touching.”

“Thank God I’m doing gang warfare and violence. The most affectionate thing I hear on the job is ‘Bitch, get out of my face before I fuck you up.’” She shifted and winced, and Marcie’s fingers stroked her arm.

“C’mon, let me see. I want you to be comfortable today, and Leland wants us to take care of you.”

“I’m sure inspecting my naked butt wasn’t what he meant.”

“When it comes to a protective Dom, you’d be surprised what that means.”

Celeste shook her head. “Seriously, I appreciate it, but leave it be. I’m not like you guys, you know. In that inner circle where you can run around naked together and play in front of each other. I’m a bit shier about things.”

“Okay. But look for aspirin in the bathroom cabinet, and I recommend a hot shower. There’s a body scrub in there that is awesome. You’ll feel like a new person. Come join us whenever you’re ready. Brunch is at ten, and the food is going to be to die for. That’s why I did the extra workout today. I have a dress that’s going to make Ben’s tongue roll out of his head, but it fits like a second skin.”

“Moron.”

“Yeah, I know. The plan is to have him rip it off of me before oxygen deprivation results in long-term brain damage.” Marcie smiled, but Celeste noticed a tension to the gesture that raised her curiosity. Marcie didn’t pause for breath, though. “It’s crazy. I decided to do this week apart thing before the wedding, but he got his revenge. Told me I couldn’t do
anything
to take the edge off. You know you’re hurting for it when you switch the phone off vibrate because that weak-assed hum might shove you into full-blown orgasm.”

“TMI, girlfriend. Way too much.”

“Not. You know you’re eating it up. I agreed to it only because he agreed to the same.”

Celeste raised her brows. “You’re depriving a sexual sadist of an outlet for a week, when he practically has sex with you six times a day to stay on an even keel. There’s a good plan. You’re going to be the one who’ll need medical care.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” Marcie winked, slid off the bed. “See you in a bit. Really, though, take your time. Cassandra had the whole thing catered, so we don’t have to do a thing.”

Reaching out, she ran her fingers lightly over Celeste’s jaw. “You have a whisker burn. Might want to conceal that, unless you want to brag some. Oh, and don’t be giving me that stink eye when I say things about Leland. You got to sample my man. I think fair is fair.”

“Don’t make me hurt you. That was years ago, long before Ben knew about your diabolical plans for him.”

Marcie grinned again. “You’re possessive. It’s a good sign.”

Before Celeste could get uncomfortable or defensive about that, Marcie moved toward the door. Once there, though, she stopped, looked over her shoulder.

“I’m not all that surprised to see you and Leland together. He’s one of the good ones, and I don’t know anyone who deserves that kind of man more than you.”

On that entirely unexpected statement, one that hit Celeste right under her rib cage, Marcie slipped out, leaving Celeste looking down at the hairband still fastened around her wrist, her Master’s reminder of his presence.
And that you have someone in your corner… I’ll be counting the minutes before I’m touching you again.

That made two of them…

§

She thought about not going, just opening up her computer and writing up some of her latest notes, plotting out other storylines, but in the end, she couldn’t do that to Marcie. Plus, she didn’t really want to be alone with her thoughts. Maybe she wanted to be around women who might understand, in a variety of ways, the conflicting feelings she was having.

The screened gazebo in the beautifully landscaped backyard had been set up for the breakfast, a round table with white linen and six place settings accented by a center arrangement of sunflowers nestled in a frame of white roses. As she approached it, she found the women drinking champagne outside the gazebo, chatting together on lounge chairs or standing. As she hung back, her gaze moved over all of them. The reporter in her automatically reviewed the basics about each of the women, though a deeper, personal part embraced the warm energy of their company. She could feel it reaching out to draw her closer, even before they noticed her.

That didn’t surprise her. The Kensington and Associates executive team were indescribable, both in their bonds with each other and with the women in their lives. Each of them had found the submissive of his heart and made her his, and every one of those women was an accomplished, strong individual in her own right.

Dana Winston, Peter’s wife, was an Army veteran who’d lost her sight, hearing and almost her life in Iraq. Reconstructive and plastic surgery, as well as a cochlear implant, had taken away most of the outer scars and improved her hearing, and now she was a minister at a local church that served a poor inner-city population. Peter, K&A’s operations manager, overseeing both their domestic and overseas physical plants, had been a captain with the National Guard and had served tours overseas himself. That experience, as well as his nature as a Dom, had helped pull Dana out of the despair and PTSD. Her submissive nature had responded to his command and unrelenting love, a yin and yang that gave both of them life again.

Rachel Forte was a physical therapist and yoga instructor who’d crossed paths with Jon through Dana’s therapy. Jon was the most spiritual of the K&A men, a male with genius-level engineering and invention skills. Rachel was thirteen years his senior, yet Jon had a steady core that left little doubt of his skills as a Master, especially when a woman met his gaze and saw it simmering there, ready to take control of her pleasure and her needs. Only now all of that skill was dedicated to Rachel. When Celeste had first met Rachel, she’d been shy, unsure of herself. Though Celeste didn’t know her full story, she’d suspected some type of extreme psychological abuse. There was almost no trace of it now. When Rachel fully embraced her submissive side with the right Master, she’d bloomed anew.

Celeste’s brow creased as she thought about that. There’d been a time in her life she would have sneered at the idea of submission being an avenue to confidence and personal strength. Even up to a few days ago, she’d had only an academic acceptance of it, but she thought about the way she and Leland played off of one another, the way he’d simply put aside her assertion that he didn’t deserve someone as messed up as she was. He’d treated that like a bullshit defense tactic, and somehow transformed her into a quivering, passionate creature who called him Master and was eager to please, filled with pleasure at his desire for her.

“Celeste, we’re so glad you could join us.”

She emerged from her thoughts to find Cassandra Adler had noticed her and left her conversation with Savannah to come and draw her into the group.

Lucas’s wife was a top negotiator with Pickard Consulting, a division of Pickard Industries. Supposedly she and Lucas had crossed paths during a negotiation with K&A where Cassandra had done what most women couldn’t. Holding her own against the full charm and force of will of the executive team, she’d brokered a pretty even deal for the Pickard client she’d been representing. About twenty-four hours after that, she’d been engaged to Lucas. Celeste had always suspected there was more to the story, but until her friendship developed with Marcie, she hadn’t found out what it was.

Celeste was getting ready to move to Baton Rouge, branching out on her blog, doing freelance work between Baton Rouge and NOLA, when Marcie graduated college and began her pursuit of Ben O’Callahan. It was a passion she’d nursed ever since she was sixteen years old and Lucas had married her sister, bringing Marcie and her family into the K&A fold. She and Celeste had met at the MMA gym where Celeste was already a member. Celeste had been quick to tell Marcie who she was. She had a high regard for the K&A men at that point, a direct contrast to how their relationship had started, and she didn’t have any intention of being construed as trying to dig up stories by assuming a friendship with one of “the family.”

That awkwardness was a blip on the screen and then gone, because she and Marcie had clicked as friends in a way Celeste hadn’t experienced in quite some time. Though she’d never let Marcie close enough to know half of what Leland had figured out about her in the first night, and she dodged any topic about her family, Celeste still felt a close bond to the young woman. Marcie was shrewd enough to get the hint and leave Celeste’s past untouched. However, the young woman’s tact and compassion about anything related to family suggested she’d long ago deduced Celeste was pretty alone in the world.