Cherise Sinclair - If only

“Then I’ll see you later.” After a quick squeeze, Rainie cheerfully sashayed toward the rear of the room. Even the tattoos covering her back looked happy.

Sally felt the prickle of tears in her eyes. Face it, she’d only returned to the Shadowlands because she’d missed her buddies.

Not to find a Dom. As she filled her tray again, her shoulders slumped. Pretty sad to realize a dream had died. Years ago, her mama had blown bubbles, sending the iridescent balls floating over the green lawn. Sally had caught them. Time after time, the bubble would pop, leaving only a wet spot on her little hands.

There was a dirty analogy in the story, she knew, wet spots and things blown up and deflating too soon. But she wasn’t in a naughty mood. More of an all-my-bubbles-escaped mood.

Whining again. Sheesh . She set her tray down on the bar top with an annoyed thump and realized she stood next to Master Dan.

“You look tired, sweetheart.” Although he wore the gold-edged black leather vest indicating he was serving as a dungeon monitor, he still came across as a detective.

Scary thought since she had a guilty conscience the size of Master Cullen. “My graduation’s coming up. Is Kari here tonight?”

“No. She’s home with Zane.”

“Home? But…” Kari loves the Shadowlands . Sally bit back the words. She’d been immersed in grad school and hadn’t kept current. Her friend had a baby now; maybe her idea of what was fun had changed.

Instead of moving away as she’d hoped, Dan leaned an elbow on the bar. “Is Hoffman overworking you?”

“Nah.” Digging information out of computers was even more entertaining than playing online war games. “And the lieutenant is a good guy. Did I remember to say thank you?” Dan had pulled the strings to get her the computer forensics internship at his station.

She owed him…and instead, she’d snooped. Guilt tightened her shoulders.

“Not a problem. He says you’re more skilled than any software person there.” A smile lightened the angular lines of his face. “You going to stay on after you graduate?”

“Thinking about it.” As her remorse built, she couldn’t help shifting her weight and retreating a step.

His eyes narrowed. “Sally, what have—”

“Sir.” A young male submissive skidded to a halt beside them. “We need a DM in the back.”

“Coming.” Master Dan nodded to Sally and followed the sub toward the theme rooms.

Oh boy, saved by the subbie. I’m a bad Sally . If he knew she’d snapped pictures of those Harvest Association documents—or worse, what she’d done with the information—he’d put her in handcuffs and not the fun kind. But really, that list of e-mail addresses on paper was a God-given sign she must lend a hand.

Those stupid Feds needed a good geek in their corner.

“How’s it going, pet?”

Sally blinked and pulled herself out of software-land to find Master Cullen watching her with his thick brown brows drawn together. “Uh. Fine.” She forced a smile. “All finished cleaning up my section.” She gave the tray a push forward.

He glanced at his submissive, Andrea. “Can you get that, love?”

Andrea smiled. “Si, Señor.” Before picking up the tray, the tawny-haired woman patted Sally’s hand. “You okay?”

Christ on a crutch, did she appear that wrung out? “I’m good. Just tired.” And frustrated and lonely and starting to grasp a sad truth. Even after she finished her Master’s degree and left school, her love life might not improve.

“The first shift of trainees is free to play now. Has Nolan set you up with someone yet?” Cullen asked.

She shrugged. The idea of doing a scene was…blah. She didn’t feel playful. Or sexy. Or anything. “No.”

She leaned her forearms on the bar top, her shoulders sagging. Might as well go home. She glanced around for Master Nolan. He was in charge of the trainees tonight and would get pissed off if she left without permission. Annoying Master Nolan wasn’t something any submissive wanted to do…although his sub, Beth, said she poked at him occasionally just to watch his face go all hard.

Wish I had someone to poke at . She’d thought Frank would be that Dom, but his response to being teased had been horrible. The yelling hadn’t bothered her much, but when he’d backhanded her? That was not only the final straw but the entire pile of hay.

How humiliating to realize she’d chosen a man like her father.

“Sally.”

She turned toward the sound of Nolan’s gravelly voice.

Oh hell. At the sight of Galen Kouros beside the Dom, Sally almost cringed. Surely the FBI agent hadn’t discovered what she was up to with Dan’s records. She took a hasty step back, bumped into a bar stool, and a person. “Sorry,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. Her stomach dropped.

The big man behind her was Vance Buchanan, Galen’s partner. He gripped her arm with a powerful hand to steady her. “Easy there, sweetie.” As he smiled down at her, his sharp blue eyes held both humor and something unrelated to crime—the potent regard of a man.

When she looked away from Vance, Galen had moved closer. Meeting his intense dark eyes was like being sucked into a black river whirlpool…and drowning.

“Breathe, little girl,” Vance said in her ear, making her jump.

God, these two . He still had his hand wrapped around her upper arm. She glanced over her shoulder. “Let go.”

Vance’s lips twitched, drawing her attention to his face. Square jaw, flat, hard cheekbones like a Celtic warrior. Brown hair just long enough to tie back with a leather band. Yeah, she could envision him running over the Highlands beside Liam Neeson, wielding a broadsword.

And bedding everything in sight. After all, he and Galen were players. They didn’t do serious, wanted only fun and fucking. Normally how she preferred her guys, but these two were…scary. “Please, let go.”

He lifted his chin in acknowledgment and released her. The loss of his warm hand created an unsettling ache deep inside. But she could breathe again. She turned to Master Nolan, ignoring the FBI agents. “Master Nolan, I want to leave.”

“I agreed you’d have a scene with Master Galen and Master Vance,” Nolan said, his voice laying out her doom.

Her mouth went dry. How’d she forget the Feds were now Masters? In the Shadowlands, the title was given only to very experienced, very powerful, and very conscientious Doms. In return for teaching and monitoring activities, the Masters received extra privileges, especially with the trainees.

In other words, she was screwed.

The infinitesimal deepening of the lines at the edge of Galen’s eyes meant he’d followed her thoughts. “Show us your cuffs.” His voice was deeper than Vance’s, with a strong Maine accent, and his dropped r ’s turned your into yo-uh.

Wordlessly, she held her arms out.

“Yellow, blue, green ribbons means you enjoy mild pain, bondage, and sex. Is that correct?”

The pushy jerk . He’d have already pulled her records and checked her limits list. Any Master would. So his question was pure intimidation to build anticipation—or apprehension—of what they might do. And it would be they , since the two topped together. The tingle creeping up her spine said his technique worked, whether she recognized it or not. She nodded.

A tug on her hair drew her attention over…and up…to Vance. “You’ve never had a problem verbalizing anything before, sweetie. Don’t start now.”

Why did she let these two get away with shaking her up? She straightened her shoulders. “Yes, Sir. That’s very clever of you, Sir,” she said to Galen in a snotty tone before looking at the trainee Master. “Master Nolan, I don’t intend to stay. I’m not feeling good. At all. I need—”