Cherise Sinclair - The Dom's Dungeon

Brent sighed. “Yeah, she was pretty happy to get out of here. Poor girl. She spent half a year buried in that house taking care of the old guy as he withered away to nothing. Anyway, I figure she might need this check, so if—”

“She does seem oddly short of cash for a vet,” Alex interrupted. “Did she run up a gambling debt or something?” He grinned at the sputter of outrage on the other end of the line. People from small towns weren't nearly suspicious enough.

“MacKensie stepped in to help Jim with his medical bills. And then near the end, he couldn't be left alone, so Mac hired someone to stay with him when she needed to get groceries or pick up prescriptions. We would have helped, but if you know her, you know how much pride she has. And she sure wouldn't take a cent from anyone in Oak Hollow.”

Why not, dammit? Alex didn't ask the question. He got the feeling Brent wouldn't share that information. “Well, that's good to know,” he said simply. “I'm relieved my high opinion of her is justified.”

“Damn straight. She's a fine woman, no matter—” Brent huffed a breath. “I've got to go. Tell her to call me, please.” He hung up.

Now that was an interesting conversation. Alex put his feet up on a bare corner of the desk, turning the phone over and over in his hands. Brent considered the little cat generous and loyal. No new information there. And her friend Jim had been old. Alex could feel the tension in his gut ease. She wasn't mourning an old lover, but probably a father substitute.

However, Brent wasn't old, and he wanted her back.

MacKensie didn't want to return. Whatever had happened to her in the past had happened in Oak Hollow. And everyone there knew about it. And had judged her.

Dammit, little cat . How could he help if he didn't know what had happened?

Mac folded her hands in her lap and prepared to be brilliant, charming, and dedicated. Again. If this interview stuff continued much longer, she'd take a nice dive off the horrendously high Aurora Bridge.

Across the desk, Susan Weston grinned. “Don't look like that. We've met before, remember?”

Mac's lips curved. Susan was as high energy, charming, and blunt here at the Weston Animal Hospital as she had been at the ball. “I didn't want to presume upon that introduction,” Mac confessed. “Alex is very kind, but—”

Susan snorted. “Alexander Fontaine can be kind, but he's also a hard-nosed businessman and utterly ruthless when it comes to protecting animals. The fact he introduced you as a vet means he checked your background and found you more than competent. Otherwise he'd never have mentioned your occupation.”

Mac blinked in surprise. Well, yes, she knew Alex had called her references before letting her stay with Butler, but the fact that he might not have introduced her if he didn't consider her competent, and people knew that… Perhaps she didn't know him that well after all.

“You've never seen him in action, have you?” Susan huffed and amended quickly, “I mean, action related to animals. He's actually put two or three vets out of business.”

“Really.” Well, God knew she'd seen his temper.

“Oh yeah.” Sandy smiled. “And seeing you with Butler didn't do you any harm. That dog doesn't fawn over many people. After meeting you, my partners and I kept an eye on you that night. Animals like you.” She spread papers out over the desk. “We, of course, checked your credentials and references. We took a vote this morning, and we'd like you to come to work here.”

Mac's breath stopped.

“If things work out, then we'll talk about buying in and all that.” Susan rose and held out her hand. “Are you interested?”

Do not scream. Do not do happy dance until get home . “I researched you too, and you're at the top of my list.” Mac stood and shook Susan's hand firmly. “I accept.”

“Uh, I don't know… I'm tired and…” Mac's heart rate increased when Alex pushed the dungeon door open and the scent of leather drifted out. The lights in the sconces flickered over the St. Andrew's cross, the benches, the wall of whips and floggers. All that equipment gave an entirely different impression when you had a Dom beside you than when you were just exploring. She shivered as she realized he could and would use all the equipment in here.

Her excuses only caused his grip on her wrist to tighten as he pulled her into the room.

Damn. She should have been warned yesterday when he'd looked up at her and said, “ You realize dragging your Dom off to have sex isn't the usual behavior of a submissive, even when celebrating .”

It had been a fine, fine celebration. She shivered a little just remembering how she'd straddled him and ridden him like a cowgirl. Yeah, she might have gotten away with jumping him and being so demanding. He'd enjoyed himself as well, after all.

But then when he'd told her they would attend his mother's supper party, she'd refused. Flat-out refused. And oh boy, apparently he'd make her pay for it today.

Did she really want to let him do this domination stuff? At just the thought, her insides started to melt like ice cream in the sun. Frak, she was so screwed.

He put her in the center of the room and gave her a look from determined blue eyes. Dom eyes. “Don't move.”

Her breath quickened.

From the cupboard, he removed several things and put them into his pockets. He picked up a set of wrist cuffs, then returned to stand in front of her. “Strip.”

All those men she'd undressed for and never felt a thing, but with this man—just that tone of voice made her nipples tighten to aching points. She pulled her T-shirt off, threw her bra on top of it, and wiggled out of her jeans and panties.

When she stood naked before him, he nodded approval, then walked around her slowly. Inspecting her. Rather than try to hide, she raised her chest and her chin. And wished he'd touch her.

“You're a beautiful woman, little sub,” he said quietly. His words created a warmth inside her and increased her desire to be touched. He stopped behind her, buckled on the wrist cuffs, and clipped them behind her back before turning her to face him. The feeling of helplessness made her wet, an effect she still couldn't understand, but it didn't seem to matter. Not when he looked at her like this, a faint smile on his lean face.

“Hold still,” he warned before he bent and took one nipple in his mouth. Hot and wet.

She jolted backward, earning herself a brisk slap on the side of her thigh. And the sting sent little claws into her clit. Biting her lip, she planted her feet and kept motionless.

His lips demanding, he sucked on her nipple until it peaked, long and taut. From his pocket came a breast clamp: tiny sparkling jewels and bells on a chain below the tweezerlike prongs.

Her mouth dropped open. He hadn't used those since the club.

He fastened the clamp over her nipple, sliding the little ring upward until she tried to retreat from the pain. He left it there for a heartbeat and then loosened it. The pain changed to a pinch that throbbed with every beat of her heart. When he did the other, she realized the biting ache made her aware of her breasts…constantly.

He stepped back, his gaze on her face, and he smiled. “Spread your legs,” he said softly.

She bit her lip. She knew he wouldn't really, really hurt her, but with her hands cuffed behind her back, it seemed…

“Now.”

Her feet moved apart. He gave a nod and then touched her down there. The sensation of his hand against her bare pussy still startled her. His fingers slid very, very easily across her folds, showing she was very, very wet. His eyes held amusement. “I thought you'd enjoy having clamps again.”