Sophie Oak: Back in Bliss

“I asked you a question, Logan. The customary reaction to having a question posed to you would be replying with an answer not a snore. Have you had your sinuses examined? I think there might be something wrong with you.”

Logan grinned. He’d always been a snorer. It didn’t bug him at all since he didn’t have to listen to himself. “I’ll check into that, Doc. Are we done here?”

Leo frowned in a way that let Logan know he was rapidly losing patience. “I asked about the women you’ve been topping in the club. I was asking about any trouble you might have had.”

Logan sat up. The one thing he took seriously these days was his job. “Did someone complain?”

His brain raced, trying to come up with a name. He hadn’t had problems with anyone since he’d taken on the full-time Dom job after he’d left Kitten duty. He had several regulars, and he was starting to work with Wolf on training the new staff, both tops and bottoms. He’d never had a single complaint that he knew of.

“Yes, several of the women have been complaining,” Leo explained.

He was a damn good Dom. He took care of his charges. He felt a fierce frown cross his face. “I haven’t done anything bad. I’ve been very careful.”

“Yes, that’s the problem. They’ve been complaining that you won’t have sex with them.” A little smiled curved up Leo’s lips now. “Not on the record, of course, but Shelley’s been hearing it in the locker room. They’re calling you the Priest. You’ll hand out the discipline but you won’t take any pleasure.”

He couldn’t. He couldn’t get a fucking erection anymore if the woman wasn’t a gorgeous brat with blue eyes and blonde hair and the snarkiest mouth in the world. “I wasn’t aware I should do that.”

“I realize that you signed a contract to not have relations with Kitten, but she was a special case. The women who come here have been fully screened both psychologically and physically. You can fuck any one of them who consents.”

Logan groaned a little. “Do we really have to talk about this?”

“The women who come here tend to be looking for relaxation.”

“Dude, you make me sound like a hooker.”

“I believe the male equivalent is a gigolo, and now, obviously you aren’t being paid to have sex and you don’t have to have sex with someone to top them, but most men of your age would view The Club as a sexual free-for-all. I sure as fuck know I did.” Leo leaned forward. “Now would be a good time to point out that patient confidentiality works both ways.”

Logan nearly rolled his eyes. Leo didn’t want his almost wife to hear about his former life at The Club. “I’m sure you were a legend.”

“Maybe not a legend, but I did enjoy myself. After I got divorced, I cut quite a swath through the subs here. I didn’t take sex seriously until I met my fiancée. I negotiated a lot of sex with submissives. You don’t even talk about it with them. I have to admit, I was surprised. I expected you to become one of the dungeon studs. Is there something I don’t know?”

“No.” What the hell was he talking about? “Dude, I spent a summer fucking my way through half of Southern Colorado’s female population with your brother. I get it. You had a ton of fun when you weren’t like old and stuff.”

Leo wasn’t old. Leo was like thirty-five or something, but he also had his whole life together and was happily sharing a great woman with his brother and enjoying his dream job of fixing fucked-up people. Logan was one of those fucked-up dudes, so he felt the need to needle Leo about his age since it was all he had on the man.

“Nice, asshole. I’m not that old.” Leo wasn’t the most formal of shrinks. “And I’ve heard about your escapades with Wolf. That’s why I’m a little surprised you haven’t partaken of the pleasures offered here at The Club. I’ve heard Haven has been rather…persistent with you.”

Haven Welch. Sweet girl. Pretty. Thin. Glossy black hair. Deeply submissive. “She’s a nice girl. She’s been complaining?”

Leo snorted a little. “Dude, she practically presents to you every time you walk in a room. It’s disturbing. Seriously, you haven’t picked up those signs, yet?”

“Uhm, I just top her. She filled out a form, and I do what I’m supposed to do.” He hadn’t thought to go any further. Had he fucked up? He was really good at fucking up. He didn’t think of Haven as anything but a client. She wasn’t the girl who would spit bile at a man and pretend to toss his phone into a grove of fucking rosebushes. She wouldn’t push his every boundary and make him fucking hard at the thought of getting her on her knees in front of him. Yeah. He would make her beg for his cock. She would fucking know who her Master was when he was done with her.

“Or maybe you really like her. Wow, that is a massive erection,” Leo pointed out.

Fuck . Logan sat up, trying to shift so his cock wasn’t poking out of his sweat pants. Damn her. “I wasn’t thinking of Haven.”

“Were you, perhaps, thinking of Georgia Dawson?” Leo asked the question in an innocent tone of voice.

He wanted to growl and punch something. That was what Georgia brought out in him. Georgia Ophelia Dawson. He could still hear her in that oh-so-proper voice introducing herself to him like he was the hired help. She’d turned that button-cute nose up at him and proceeded to talk on her phone, ignoring him until she wanted him to pick something up or help her out of the car. She’d been a snot-nosed, brat princess.

Who had nearly melted for him because it was all an act. He could still feel her arms around him, clinging to him as she cried and thanked him for pulling her out of that hellhole she and Nat had been thrown into.

I didn’t think you would come for me. I wanted you, Logan. God, I prayed for you to come for me. Logan, Logan, I love you so much.

She’d sobbed into his shirt on their way to the hospital, and just for a minute, he’d thought about keeping her at his side. He could have collared her in a heartbeat. She needed a Dom so badly, wanted a real lover who wouldn’t let her get away with that bratty shit she pulled for attention. She was starved for real affection, and he’d thought about marrying her in that moment and realized he couldn’t. He couldn’t take her home to his moms. He couldn’t go home.

He was a ball of hate, and he couldn’t bring her into his world because any life here in Dallas was a half life.

Fuck it all. He wanted to go home, and he just couldn’t. He wanted Georgia more than his next breath, and he just couldn’t.

“That was a whole lot of emotions playing out over your face,” Leo said with a self-satisfied smile. “Good. We’re getting somewhere. So, this is about Georgia.”

“There’s nothing going on between me and Georgia.” Because he wouldn’t allow it to happen. He put his hand over his heart. The little memento he’d had inked over his left pec had done exactly what he’d wanted it to do. It reminded him that letting her go had been the best thing for her. And him? All he really deserved was that damn elaborate G he’d had tattooed on his body the day after she left. He’d made sure about the placement, though. It was hidden under the leather vest he wore, and he showered privately now. That G was his. No one else needed to know.

Leo sighed, a deeply patient sound. “We haven’t talked about that day.”

“Because there’s nothing to talk about.” Nothing Logan was willing to talk about. Georgia had been kidnapped, shot, and nearly sold to the highest bidder. The minute he’d known she was in danger, his whole fucking world had stopped. He’d thought he’d been through some serious shit. He’d been brutalized, his whole being boiled down to pain and survival, but he realized he hadn’t known real fear until Georgia had been put in the same position.