Nobody’s Hero
Third in the Rescue Me Series
by
Kallypso Masters
Copyright 2011, Kallypso Masters
Smashwords Edition
Revised Version Jan. 27, 2012
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Edited by Jeri Smith, www.booksmithediting.com
Line edited by Jacy Mackin and Rosie Moewe
Cover art by Linda Lynn
This book contains content that is not suitable for readers 17 and under.
Thank you for downloading this e-book. This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author, Kallypso Masters, at kallypsomasters@gmail.com.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (See http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/ for more information about intellectual property rights.)
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons—living or dead—or places, events, or locales is purely accidental. The characters are reproductions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. Some of the BDSM techniques portrayed in this book, including rope suspension, require a great amount of skill and should not be attempted without proper training.
To discover more about the books in this series by Kallypso Masters, follow her “Ahh, Kallypso…the stories you tell” blog at http://kallypsomasters.blogspot.com. Or send a friend request to Kallypso Masters on Facebook. She also has a Facebook Kallypso Masters Author Page at https://www.facebook.com/pages/Kallypso-Masters-Author/260576087323803. You can also follow her on Twitter as @kallypsomasters.
Praise for Nobody's Hero
Sizzling and sensual, Nobody’s Hero is a wonderfully satisfying story with a battle-scarred Dom who will simply steal your heart away.
~ Cherise Sinclair, Author
~ ~ ~
I didn’t want it to end. With each new book Ms. Masters is weaving great stories for her Masters and making me fall in love with each couple. Karla and Adam are definitely my favorite, especially after this ending, but it definitely makes me want to read about Damián and Savi.
~ Amanda, Guilty Pleasures Book Reviews
~ ~ ~
You show a higher level of respect for military details than any romance author I have read. As a retired Navy spouse, I really admire and respect you for the extra care you take with your writing.
~ Kathy Holtsclaw, Reader
~ ~ ~
I loved this book. I laughed, I cried, I wanted to slap Adam upside the head a few…several times. It’s such a sweet story. But it’s also hot and steamy. (I think Ms. Masters made Santa’s naughty list.) The characters are awesome and well rounded. Some of the fantasies were very very um… yeah… there’s a reason that they are fantasies.
~ Riane Holt, Kinky Book Reviews
Dedication
To the people who volunteer to help me with edits, beta reading, expertise, and research, you help me achieve the attention to detail that makes these characters so strong in everyone's minds. I appreciate your time and dedication (even when I am always weeks behind and rushing you!)
To my husband—thanks for nurturing me during my writing marathons.
To Master Adam—Thank you, Sir, for not pulling a Master Marc stunt three weeks before publication.
Acknowledgements
As always, there are so many people to thank, and my apologies to any I leave out.
First, I’d like to thank my editor, Jeri Smith, of Booksmith Editing. My writing continues to improve and I grow as a writer with your explanations, suggestions, and corrections. Most of all, your unflappable belief in my abilities and potential.
To my line editors, Jacy Mackin and Rosie Moewe, thanks for pulling those all-nighters with me and for the attention to detail you bring to the table. Rosie is the queen of time lines and Jacy of grammar and punctuation. I'm learning from you, two, too! We make an awesome team—the Three Master-teers!
Linda Lynn, the cover artist for all of my books to date, for your patience (because I know this isn't something you ever imagined yourself illustrating!) and for your knowledge about the visual world I don't see quite as well. Oh, and for collaring Karla and making her hair black on this cover. (And the sensual cover image is from Hot Damn Photos, thanks to Kim Killion and her amazing photographer!)
For the many, many hours of reading e-mails and scenes and offering suggestions and ideas to make them better, thanks to “Toymaker” and his beloved submissive “Eirocawakening” from FetLife. You've helped this neophyte learn, always with patience and enthusiasm. Toymaker, I do believe you will keep me torturing poor Karla and some of my other submissives for years to come with your innovative and diabolical ideas.
To Kathy Holtsclaw, for going through the "advanced reading copy" of Nobody's Hero so meticulously and sharing your great insights into Karla's submission and the military perspective (things I hadn't even thought to run by my military expert because I *thought* I knew them). I've incorporated some of your ideas into scenes in this "official" version. Welcome aboard the good ship USS Masters at Arms!
My incredible crew of beta readers: Fiona Campbell, Ashlee Davidson, Kathy Holtsclaw, Kristin Harris, Kellie Hunter, Rosie Moewe, Kelly Mueller, and Kathy Treadway. I’m always amazed at how each of you finds something monumentally wrong—but it’s never the same thing. Reading your comments and questions often send me in new directions or just help me add another layer to make the story to make it even more complex in its character and plot development. (It's all about the layers in my stories!)
To my Romance Writers of America chapter, the Kentucky Romance Writers, and to my fellow KYRW chapter mates who are solely independent authors, Sondra Allen Carr and Donna MacDonald, for all of your advice and support as we try to revolutionize the publishing industry one indie book at a time.
Thanks to my fans and readers, affectionately known as the Masters Brats, for falling in love (as I have) with Masters Adam, Marc, and Damián, and for encouraging them (with your bratty behavior) to make regular visits on Facebook to keep you in line. (But you know Master Adam’s fond of deprivation when you get too bratty, so behave or he won’t come to visit. But I think Karla's going to show him that bratty can be fun, too.) Oh, and let's not forget Master Luke (Baby Dom, as Master Marc calls him). He's going to be so ready for his lady in a couple books after all the training he's getting at the hands of the Masters at Arms club owners.
One eye-opener I discovered in the writing of this book is that my Facebook friends restore my energy levels, which may be why I spend more time there than most writers do on deadline. (That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.) You build up my adrenaline, help me find the answers to a character’s most puzzling questions (like what body wash/soap Master Adam uses, what ring-tone Karla would have for Mistress Grant, and what Adam would call his underwear—well, when he wears any!).
Many of my Facebook friends have added in big and small ways to the plot and character development in this series. Some that I made a note of before Facebook buried them on my profile wall are: Jennifer P. for providing the perfect setting for the final scene; Patricia Wheeler for help with my questions about Marines, which I needed for the last chapter (and thanks for your service in the Corps!); Lindsay Klug for the self-defense moves used on the balcony at the club; Rosie Moewe and Joanne MacGregor for research videos on self-defense and rope bondage, respectively; Sherri Hayes for your brainstorming help, because you always seem to know what Master Adam would do or think (he must be visiting you when I can't find him); Kelly Timm for help with facts about my fictionalized version of Eden Gardens in Solano Beach (apologies to anyone you know there, but my fictional version is a little rougher than the real place!); Fiona Campbell, Maria Nespolo, Stacey Price, and everyone who helped me fill “the box” of special memories in this story; and for all who gave me suggestions for public and private BDSM collars (Susan F., Crystal H., Evita’s Reads, Gail M., Joanne M., Tamara M., Suzanne O., D.F. Starr, and Beth W.). I need to get better at remembering or recording who provided which pieces of information so I can acknowledge all of you next time, but rest assured you are appreciated, even if not named here. (All errors are mine, of course.)
Thanks to Fiona Campbell for her medical expertise and for keeping 50-year-old Master Adam (with his fondness for rough sex) from going at Karla like a teenager before he was fully healed from his wounds.
Thank you to my supportive, innovative, and kinky "Playroom" friends, for lifting me up, making me laugh, giving me delightful and informative inspiration into the BDSM lifestyle, and for providing me with an awesome social-networking fix every day! You’re the best!
Thanks, Jennifer Zeffer, Joanne Ioana T, and everyone who shares delightful Master Gibbs “Dom” quotes from NCIS on a regular basis. Most memorable of late was: “Somebody needed a safeword.” I hope the NCIS writers who keep toying with us will one day give us the scene we all crave—Master Gibbs in a romantic scene with a woman in restraints. (Surely there’s a dungeon or playroom in his basement somewhere!) I just wonder what all the "vanilla" (non-BDSM) viewers of NCIS think of these Master Gibbs-isms. (When asked what safeword meant, one said, “It’s probably a Marine codeword." Well, it is in MY books—especially this one!”)
And special thanks to everyone who came to my aid whenever I put out the call for help, including when I needed encouragement and support both for writing and for the situation with my sister and her cancer. To those who took the time to post a review (size does NOT matter—I love them all!) or rated my book at e-book sales sites, you cannot know how this helps getting a book to move up the bestseller lists. And thanks to those who sent me e-mails or private message saying how much you love the characters in my world, which just fed the flames and kept me going!
Author's Note
I am a perfectionist. No matter how many times I read one of my books, I will change something. This is my third book and I know from experience that over the next week or two, I will upload additional versions of the book. In fact, I've already announced on Facebook and my blog that there will be a new one by Dec. 31, 2011. So, I encourage you to go back to where you bought the book and sync or download the newer one before doing any re-reads in the future.
Now, if this is the first of my books you've ever picked up, I need to state unequivocally that the books in this series are not stand-alone novels. We'll both be very frustrated (especially with this one in which a major dramatic event happened to this couple in the last book, Nobody's Angel, which leads us to the opening scene in this book).
You'll learn the backstories of five main characters in the first four books by starting with the introduction and prequels to the series in Masters at Arms (Rescue Me #1—only 99 cents at this time). While Masters at Arms doesn’t have the Happily Ever After endings romance readers expect, it does provide extensive and heartbreaking stories about each of the Doms who own the Masters at Arms Club. (That’s Master Adam on the cover, by the way. You'll see him strike that pose on a regular basis.)
Then continue reading with Nobody’s Angel (Rescue Me #2, $2.99). The lives of the characters in the first four books of the series are very intertwined and these characters will have recurring roles throughout the series. (Currently, I have plans to continue writing through book #7 in early 2013—but have a feeling there will be others, because there are so many strong secondary characters.)
In this, my debut series, I strive to write emotional, sometimes gut-wrenching stories with both dramatic and humorous plots for a group of characters who are or eventually will become involved in the kinky world of safe, sane, and consensual BDSM (bondage / discipline / domination / submission / sadism / masochism / Master / slave and possibly even other things I'm not aware of yet). But I don't write "BDSM erotic romances." I write romances in which the erotic scenes often involve BDSM. As one reader wrote to me recently, "I loved that the story was about the story and the characters first, and they happened to be into the lifestyle."
As the series progresses, the BDSM elements will get ramped up. (I am new to researching "the lifestyle," and learning more every day—well, in the fictional world at least.) In this book, you’ll find scenes with Shibari rope bondage, breast bondage and torture, anal play, orgasm torture (multiple forced orgasms), and other forms of BDSM play that are more advanced than those in Nobody's Angel, as well as creative sexual positions and locations for having sex. I also try to let readers experience subdrop for the first time in my series.
In the next book, Nobody’s Perfect, the main characters will be involved in much edgier play, including the inflicting and acceptance of severe pain (the couple will be into SM, or the sado-masochism side of BDSM). In Nobody’s Home (#6), you’ll learn about a female Dominant (Domme) and her hunky alpha malesub. (Was I ever surprised to learn how alpha male and hot malesubs can be! So please don't get squeamish on me and skip that one. He's a kick-ass man who served in the Army and with Grant in Black Ops counterterrorism in Iraq. Besides, there will be a major subplot in Adam and Karla's life in that book, too, that you won't want to miss.)
I also strive to write stories about realistic people and scenes, not fantasy Doms or the more "dark" or hardcore BDSM, or erotica with dubious consent or non-consensual scenes. (But I do write very explicit, sensual, hot sex scenes that also advance the story in some way. So, if you think you can just skip over the sex scenes, this series might be a frustrating read for you to follow. This book is my very highest sexual/sensual heat level yet, but I have a feeling they'll just get hotter and hotter!)
Those who want to try scenes from this book at home, please find mentors in the lifestyle (real life, online, at fetish conventions, or in the enormous online BDSM community at fetlife.com) and do your homework. Master Adam has been in the lifestyle for thirty years. He would be very upset if anyone attempted to do a Shibari rope bondage scene, much less a rope suspension one like he does here, without training from a master or expert in the art of Shibari. My expert, "Toymaker" from the FetLife community, says these are not skills you can learn from watching videos. They require hands-on training, as you'll see Master Adam doing with other Doms throughout the series (including with "Baby Dom" Master Luke in this book). Improper use of the methods can be dangerous if done incorrectly, resulting in a sub's having nerve damage, broken bones, and even dying.
Now, at last, I am ready to turn Master Adam and Karla over to my many fans who came on board with them when I first started talking about these Doms on Facebook in May 2011. (Okay, sometimes I let Master Adam speak for himself there, too, which I think endeared him to you even more.) But no one has anticipated getting their hands on Master Adam as long as Karla has. He will put her (and you) through the ringer—but we all know Karla will have him on his knees again, don’t we?
Thank you for purchasing this book! I hope to have you along for the ride a very long time with this series!
By the Author
RESCUE ME series (not stand-alone books)
Available in e-book form at major outlets
Masters at Arms (Book #1, August 2011)
Nobody’s Angel (Book #2, September 2011)
Nobody’s Hero (Book #3, December 2011)
Revised, Tentative Schedule for
Upcoming Books in the RESCUE ME Series:
Nobody’s Perfect (Book #4)
May 2012
Damián & Savannah (Savi)’s story
Nobody’s Dream (Book #5)
August 2012
Luke’s story
Nobody’s Home (Book #6)
November 2012
Grant’s story
In Fall 2012, at least the first four books in the series will be available as trade paperbacks. Later books will be published in paperback as early as possible.
Special Permission
The “Karla Paxton” lyrics quoted and referenced in the Epilogue of this book (reprinted below exactly as they appeared in the poem, rather than styled as lyrics) are a stanza from an original poem by Kellie Kamryn (www.kelliekamryn.blogspot.com), a friend and fellow author of Kallypso Masters on Facebook. The author is grateful to Kellie and her publisher for allowing her to highlight Karla’s “songwriting talents” in this way!
I see you wet your lips
you know I can’t resist
just want a little taste
so, there’s no time to waste
You know I like it rough
I just can’t get enough
Not feelin’ no shame
when I’m screaming out your name!
Touch Me
(c) 2012 by Kellie Kamryn
From: Secrets and Desires of the Heart, by Kellie Kamryn
Reprinted with the permission of Romance Divine LLC
Available in 2012
Chapter One
“What the fuck are you doing in my bed?”
Karla Paxton smiled. Adam Montague had always been so careful not to drop the f-bomb around her before—although she’d certainly heard him say it enough times to everyone else, when he didn’t think she could hear. Were his walls coming down enough for him to see her as a adult for the first time since they’d met?
“I needed to be close to you. Do you remember what happened?”
As if just coming to his senses, he glanced up at the IV pole and took in his surroundings. “Where am I?”
“At the medical center in Denver. You were attacked by a cougar.”
Realization dawned and he cupped her cheek, searching her face. “Are you okay? It didn’t hurt you? You’ve got circles under your eyes. God, you’ve lost so much weight.”
Adam, Adam, Adam. Always thinking about everyone else.
She didn’t want to think how awful she must look. If she’d known he would wake up today, she’d have at least put on a little makeup and brushed her hair. She needed to reassure him before he got worried. “I’m fine, Adam. You got the cougar to chase after you and…” Her throat constricted as the image of Adam lying on the ground with the large cat ripping at his neck and back. She closed her eyes and lay her forehead on his chest, but the image was seared into her memory. “I was so scared, Adam,” she whispered.
He stroked the back of her head and she wished they could stay like this forever. Intimate. Sharing. Close. But she knew the walls wouldn’t stay down forever. She pressed her face against him, comforted by his heart beating against her cheek and the rising and falling of his chest.
His hand brushed a tendril of hair away from her face. “Thank God you weren’t hurt, Karla.”
“You saved my life. Again.” She stroked his neck, her head nestled in the crook of his shoulder, feeling as if she’d come home at last. Her hand traced a path down one of his pecs, which she’d ached to touch for so many years. She let her fingertip circle the hard nip.
Adam’s hand caught and stilled hers, his body tensing.
He pushed her away.
“You need to get out of this bed, Karla. Now.”
* * *
What the fuck was he doing touching Karla like that? When he’d felt her body stretched out against his, before the cobwebs had cleared, he’d thought perhaps he’d done something unforgivable—like taken advantage of an innocent girl. But wouldn’t he remember doing something like that?
His head pounded. Okay, one head pounded—the other throbbed, just as it had been doing whenever he was around Karla since the July day in his office when she’d come back into his life after almost nine years. Only now she was all grown up. If she didn’t get out of this bed soon, he was going to do something they’d both regret. He knew his resistance was low, but damn it, she felt so good lying against him.
“Adam.”
“Yes?”
“I have to tell you something.”
Oh, fuck. The last time she’d said that, she was sixteen and had declared her love to his forty-one year old self. Not ready for another such declaration, Adam tried to move her off his chest, but she wouldn’t budge and he didn’t have the strength to lift her. He hated being physically compromised. “Look, Karla…”
She giggled. He felt his dick get stiff. What was it about a woman’s giggle that turned him on?
“Don’t worry. It’s nothing like what I said on my parents’ front porch.”
He relaxed and she grinned.
“What is it, hon?” Don’t call her “hon.” She may get the wrong idea—again. Why didn’t she do as he’d told her and get out of this tiny fucking bed? Don’t mention fucking and bed while you’re holding Karla in your arms.
Her hand stroked his chest almost absently, although she certainly had his undivided attention. Her touch was tentative, gentle. He hadn’t let a woman get this close since Joni. Even with Grant, his friend-with-benefits partner at the Masters at Arms Club he co-owned, sex had been rough, hard, sometimes even brutal. A physical release for them both, nothing more. Neither had ever wanted anything more.
But Karla was more fragile both physically and emotionally. She’d just lost her brother, who had meant the world to her. That grief was what had brought her to his club in the first place. Adam had cared about her since he’d rescued her nine years earlier in the Chicago bus station, not that he’d shown her much support these past few months. Hell, no. He’d been too busy running in the opposite direction. Adam didn’t know what it was that scared him the most—their age difference of twenty-five years, the thought of his corrupting her any more than he’d already done by bringing her onto the payroll at his kink club last July, or that she might get under his skin and expect more from him than he could give.
Hell, he’d lay odds she was still a virgin, or damned close to being one. She didn’t have any interest in BDSM and had no place in a club where she had to witness so many things that obviously freaked her out. He’d seen her cringe as she watched Damián Orlando, one of the club's co-owners, wield the whip or heard one of Grant’s subs screaming at the center post as the female Marine delivered a public and painful punishment.
“When I saw you lying there on the ground…” Karla cleared her throat. “The cougar was so big. You were bleeding. So much blood. I thought you’d been killed.”
He pulled her close to him. Just this once. He needed to reassure her that he was going to be fine. “I’m pretty ornery. No cat is going to get the best of me.”
“Well, I’ll give you ornery.”
He chuckled. “Ah, glad my secret’s out. Keeping up appearances can be exhausting.” She felt so good lying in his arms, even though he was too weak to keep his arms around her much longer. His biceps were feeling the strain. Damn, he was getting old.
“Worst-kept secret around. You’ve been very ornery lately.” She paused, stroking his chest. He wished she’d get the fuck out of this bed. His dick was throbbing to the point of pain. Having her in his arms was totally wrong.
“I’m sorry about whatever I did to upset you…” Her voice broke, along with his resolve.
Oh, shit. He'd made her cry. “Hon, you didn’t do anything.” Except look so fucking sexy you drive me insane. “I just have some shit going on in my head. I never meant to make you feel bad.” So why are you about to make her feel worse? “But I think it might be good for you to think about moving back to Chicago. You don’t belong in a kink club.”
She pushed herself up and looked him in the face, her blue eyes steely as she glared at him.
“Adam, you will not send me away—not until you’re better, at least. I know you’re too stubborn to see it, but you need me. I’m going to take care of you, just like you took care of me when I first got here. This is all my fault. If you hadn’t distracted that cougar…”
He pressed a finger over her lips, then pulled back, her sexy pink lips not being something he needed to be touching at the moment. The dark circles under her eyes and her thin, pale face worried him. But if she’d been attacked…
“If I hadn’t distracted that cougar, you’d be the one hooked to the IV. Or worse.” He stroked her cheek, unable to help himself. The thought of that cougar marring any part of her beautiful body tore at his gut worse than the cat’s claws had torn up his back. “I did what anyone would do. Besides, my hide’s tougher than yours. Damned cat didn’t stand a chance.” He grinned. When she reciprocated, he stared at her lips for the longest time, wondering what it would be like to kiss them.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Get out of this bed, Karla. Now.”
* * *
Eleven days later, Karla waited in the hallway outside Adam’s bedroom, pacing. When she heard the door, she turned and watched Marc D’Alessio come out, carrying his first-aid bag. Adam had been home nine days and seemed to be healing, but he was still recovering, first from the infection and then the deep injuries to his muscles. She hated watching him suffer in pain every day. He’d always been such a vital force.
Adam would take the antibiotics from her, but sometimes refused his pain pills and absolutely refused to let her see his back. Marc had stopped by twice a day since Adam had come home to change the dressings and apply analgesics to try to keep Adam comfortable. Karla was secretly glad Marc didn’t mind re-dressing his wounds, because he—having served as a corpsman with one of the Adam’s Marine units in Iraq—certainly had more expertise in the area than she did.
She didn't want to fail Adam now.
“Whatever you’re doing, Karla, keep it up. I can see a huge improvement from one day to the next. Now he’s getting cantankerous, too. Should be back to his old self again in no time.”
She felt some of the tension leave her body. “Thank you.” The words were barely spoken above a whisper. Exhausted, she wondered how she managed to remain upright anymore. Word that Adam was doing better overloaded her with emotion and her upper lip began to quiver. Marc held his arms out and she walked into his embrace. Really needing a hug right now, she let him bear her weight for a moment. If only it were Adam holding her.
“Where the stitches were removed, there’s no sign of re-injury. We just need to try and keep him from overdoing it when he gets up and about more. He’s chomping at the bit to get out of bed. I gave him one of the pain pills, though, after I treated the wounds and bandaged him up again. He’ll sleep for a while. Come down and have lunch. Angelina’s cooking up something good, I’m sure. Cassie's downstairs, too.”
“No, I…”
He placed his hands on her upper arms and pushed her away from him, waiting until she looked up into his eyes. “Apparently, you misunderstood me, Karla. You are coming downstairs to have lunch with us. Now.” Without waiting for her to respond, he took her elbow in his firm grip and steered her toward the stairs. “You know you aren’t going to do him any good if you don’t take care of yourself. You need to remember to eat and sleep, too.”
She knew he was right, but the guilt that plagued her every waking moment wouldn’t release its hold. Adam had been injured trying to save her when the cougar threatened her and he had suffered terribly in her place.
They reached the bottom of the stairs and he motioned for her to precede him down the narrow hallway and into the kitchen. Cassie sat at the table with her sketchpad, lost in her drawing. Angie turned around, left the stove, and came toward her. “Oh, sweetie, you look exhausted. Didn’t get any sleep last night either?”
“Not much. It’s hard to sleep in a chair.” And I don’t want to miss it if Adam needs me during the night.
Angie wrapped her arms around her and Karla’s already shaky rein on her emotions evaporated. She held on for dear life, too exhausted to fight the tears off anymore. God, she despised being so powerless. She imagined Adam must feel equally frustrated, though, and shouldn't complain.
“I hate seeing him lying there. He’s always been so strong. Invincible. I know he’s getting stronger, but he still has so far to go…”
Angie stroked her hair. “He'll get there, thanks to how well you're taking care of him. You just let me know what you need. I want you to know I'm here for you, too.”
Karla was so glad she’d met this woman, despite the circumstances. When the man who had brought her to the Masters at Arms Club in late August had become abusive toward her in one of the club’s theme rooms, causing her to plunge into deep subspace, Marc had rescued her. But he was needed in the club that night to monitor other scenes. Adam gave Karla the rest of the night off from singing to watch over Angie until she recovered enough for Karla to take her home to Aspen Corners, about three hours away.
When she’d dropped Angie at home the next morning, battered and disheartened, Karla had never expected to see her anywhere near the club again. But Angie and Marc had somehow reconnected in her hometown a month later after a search-and-rescue mission Marc and his SAR partner, Luke Denton, were on. Out of the blue, Karla had gotten a call from Angie saying she was on her way back to the club. Somehow Angie didn’t know Marc had been the one to rescue her, and Marc wanted to keep it that way for some reason. So Karla, Adam, and others at the club had been asked by him to perpetuate the lie of omission. Thank goodness Marc and Angie worked things out. They'd been together since the night before Adam had been attacked on the mountain.
Angie and Karla had become good friends in a short time, removing some of the loneliness Karla had experienced since arriving at the club in July disappeared when Angie had come back.
Karla glanced over at the table at Cassie López, whom she'd known much longer. Cassie looked up from her sketch and smiled sadly.
“Kitty, let me sit with him tonight so you can get some sleep. I feel like a fifth wheel around here anyway.”
Karla had rarely left Adam’s side since he was in the hospital. After he’d come home, Cassie stayed on to support her friend, helping with meals, laundry, and watching over Adam while Karla showered or napped.
“Just having you here has helped me so much, Cassie.”
Cassie stood and came across the room. Her Peruvian heritage, with her lustrous long dark hair and beautiful olive complexion, were something fair-skinned Karla would have given almost anything to have. Exotic. Her best friend wrapped her in a big hug, the scent of freesia surrounding her. Karla just wished her friend hadn't been caught up in all this drama. She avoided drama almost as much as she avoided men.
Since Cassie, her college roommate, had moved to Colorado a few years ago, she and Karla had spent a week together every autumn. The visit always included an overnight camping trip on one of the state’s Fourteeners and some kind of cathartic ritual ceremony. This year they’d chosen Mount Evans near Denver and Angie had been invited to join them.
Karla and Angie had picked up Cassie at her remote mountain cabin home during the first week of October. But soon after they'd arrived at their camping spot, all hell broke loose. Angie’s abusive ex-boyfriend followed them, came into the camp, and kidnapped her.
When Karla and Cassie returned from gathering firewood to find Angie missing and signs of a struggle, Karla had called Adam who notified Marc, Luke, and Damián. Soon after the search party had set out to find Angie, though, they met up with the resilient woman who had outsmarted her stalker and escaped unharmed.
Minutes later, though, Karla had been threatened by a cougar, and Adam enticed the big cat away from her only to be attacked by it himself. Karla cringed, trying to block out the image of the animal clawing and biting Adam.
Since the cougar attack, Cassie had stayed here with Karla. Angie was staying at Marc’s house—well, when they weren’t here, too, helping out. Marc was one of the co-owners of the club, along with Damián. They were like family to Adam.
The kitchen door opened and in walked Marc's partner Luke. “Something smelled good all the way out on the porch.” He walked over to Angie, placed a hand on her back, and started to kiss her on the cheek, then halted and turned to Marc. “Permission to kiss the cook.” Marc's gaze homed in on Luke's hand on Angie and the newest Dom at the club removed his hand as if burned.
“Granted—but only on the cheek.” But the two Doms exchanged an amicable grin. Karla had to wonder if there hadn’t been something between Luke and Angie at some point. These days, however, the woman clearly had no interest in anyone but Marc. “I think I might need to do a better job of explaining some protocols to you, Baby Dom—like teaching you to ask before you touch—not just kiss—another Dom’s sub.”
“Oh, behave, you two,” Angie said, walking over to the refrigerator. “Too much testosterone in here. Besides, we’re not in the club right now, so protocols don’t apply.”
Angie had told Karla she and Marc were strictly Dom/sub in the bedroom and while playing at the club. Since Karla had gotten the job singing at the club, Karla had been surprised to learn about the range of activity and commitment for people in the BDSM lifestyle.
But there was still so much she didn’t understand.
Marc watched as Angie placed the salad dressing on the counter. “Some protocols always apply, cara, such as respecting another Dom’s property. Maybe we need to renegotiate our agreement.”
“But you promised…” Karla saw a flash of uncertainty cross Angie’s eyes and Marc chuckled.
“I’m not saying I want less Dom/sub time, cara, but maybe more.” When he held his arms open, she smiled and walked into his embrace.
Karla looked away, tears stinging her eyes again. She was happy for them, but wished she and Adam could have a relationship like theirs. Hell, she'd be happy to have any kind of relationship with Adam. Period.
Luke turned his attention to her. "Karla, how are you doing, babe?"
She shrugged. "Hanging in there."
"Hope you don't mind my dropping by." Adam and his friends pretty much had run of the building, which included the club and now even Adam’s private living quarters. She was used to people dropping by whenever they wanted.
"Marc promised food." Luke placed his hand against his stomach. "I can't cook worth shit."
"Join the club. Angie's tried to teach me, but…well…:
"Don't worry, Karla," Angie chimed in. "We'll get back to lessons when things settle down again. You were coming along great."
Angie had been looking for a job as a chef here in Denver for more than a week, but hadn't had any luck yet. She knew Angie wanted her financial independence, which Karla understood. The part-time club singing job didn't pay a lot, but she hadn't been sure she'd be staying here, so she hadn't looked for anything to supplement her income. Adam provided for so many of her personal needs—room, board, clothing. She felt guilty, after being independent while working at the Goth club in New York City for a couple of years, until she'd gotten fired a couple months after Ian had been killed.
And, while she’d never admit this to her independent mother or friends, she liked the way Adam took care of those physical needs at least. If that was the only role Adam wanted to play in her life, then she’d accept it.
Or try to, at least.
When Luke's attention homed in on Cassie, focused on her sketchpad again, Karla wished her friend would at least give him a chance. His shy, self-deprecating grin and that Texan drawl were endearing. He and Cassie had met briefly on the mountain the night of the cougar attack, but it was in the hospital waiting room almost two weeks ago where Karla had first realized there might be some cosmic connection between the two of them. Cassie had sketched a picture of Luke’s dead wife, depicting the woman as an angel holding a baby. Even though Cassie had never seen Luke’s wife before, Luke said she'd drawn her with uncanny accuracy. Then they'd learned his wife had been pregnant when she'd been killed in an avalanche years ago. Needless to say, Luke had been understandably moved by the haunting image.
Karla couldn’t help but think the universe was trying to bring the two of them together. She’d like to help her friend find love and happiness, even if those emotions weren’t possible for Karla—at least not with the man she wanted to enjoy them with.
Karla walked closer to the table, pleased to see Luke’s attention remained on her friend. Maybe she could help. “Cassie, I know you probably need to get back home soon. There must be any number of artist commissions you need to be working on.”
Right on cue, Luke offered, “If you need a ride, Cassie, I’d be happy to run you home.”
Cassie's pencil stilled and her hand hovered over the sketchpad, and Karla realized it was too soon for that. She went over and stroked her friend’s back. With her history, of course Cassie wouldn’t be comfortable alone with him, even if he didn’t pose an actual threat to her by Karla's estimation.
Luckily, Angie came to her rescue. “Cassie, I need to go back to my house in a few days and pack up some more things. I could take you home then.” Cassie was only about thirty minutes from Aspen Corners.
Karla watched a relieved smile flit across Cassie’s face. Gentle Luke wouldn’t hurt a soul, though, nor would any of the Doms at the Masters at Arms. She wished her friend wasn’t afraid of all men, but certainly understood why. But perhaps if Cassie wasn’t alone so much, she could become more comfortable around men. Maybe someday, Cassie would be able to let a man get close enough to win over her heart and calm her fears.
“Thanks, Angie. I’d like that, but only when Kitty’s ready to kick me out.”
Karla grinned at her. Thinking about anything other than Adam right now was more than she could manage, so knowing Cassie had a way back to her cabin was a relief for her, if his recovery stretched out too long.
Marc came over and stroked Karla’s arm. “You’re going to take a nap after lunch while one of us sits with Adam.”
Karla pulled away and wiped her suddenly damp eyes with the sleeves of her black t-shirt. Time to change the subject before she started sobbing and embarrassed herself—again.
Looking at the stove, Karla asked, “What smells so good?”
“I've got penne pasta with roasted red peppers and garlic in the oven.”
“God, Angie, you make cooking seem so simple. Will I ever…” Oh, what was the use learning how to cook for Adam now? Karla wouldn’t be here long enough to make anything for him. Once he was stronger, he’d be sending her home to Chicago. Her eyes burned again and she blinked rapidly. “What can I do to help?”
“Nothing,” Marc said, taking her elbow and steering her to a chair. “Table’s all set. Come, sit down.”
He pulled out Adam’s chair at the head of the table. Instead, Karla took the one beside it. Angie carried a baking dish to the table and Marc went over to the counter to retrieve the bread, wine, and salad dressing. Seeing them so in sync together just made her feel even sadder, which, in turn, made her feel more guilt. Why begrudge them happiness, just because she could never have it herself?
Luke sat beside Karla, with Cassie on his other side at the end of the table. Oh, dear. She probably should have sat closer to her friend. Marc and Angelina sat close to each other across from Karla and Luke. The meal began in silence with them eating their salads, and then Angie dished out the main course and passed a plate to each of them.
Karla’s eyes were drawn to her as Angie reached out and touched Marc’s hand. Even a simple gesture like that was more than she could have with Adam, more than Adam would let her have, anyway.
Angie held onto his hand and squeezed. “Marc, the sheriff’s office called. Allen’s bail request was denied. Looks like we won’t have to worry about him getting out for a while. They take kidnapping a whole lot more seriously than battery.”
A look of pain flickered in Marc’s eyes. Angie had suffered at the hands of her ex-boyfriend, Allen Martin. Karla had seen the fear on Marc’s face that evening on Mount Evans when they’d gone to rescue Angie, no doubt thinking the worst had happened. He cared a lot about Angie.
Karla’s hand began to tremble and she rested it on the table so no one else would see the fork shaking in her fingers. Too late. Luke reached out and squeezed her hand until the shaking stopped. When she looked over at him, he smiled.
“Adam would want you to eat more than that.”
“I know. I just…”
He picked up the fork and stabbed a couple pieces of pasta holding them up to her mouth until she parted her lips and accepted the offering. Everyone was taking such good care of her, so she could take care of their friend, Adam. This rag-tag family Adam had brought together would be lost without him.
Visions of the blood pooling beside Adam’s neck as he lay motionless curdled her stomach. Karla couldn’t block the horrific images from her mind. Everything had happened so quickly. Adam had come running and tried to calm her fears. He’d distracted the cougar, which chased and attacked him. She’d tried to wrestle the cat off him, until Marc had pulled her away so Damián could shoot the beast.
The graphic memories led to a roiling stomach and, after a couple more forkfuls, Karla took the utensil from Luke, fearing she’d get sick if she ate another bite. But she smiled at him, appreciating his support.
“Just remember, cara, he’s still strong or he wouldn’t be here,” Marc said, lapsing into his native Italian endearment. “You just wait. He’ll be back to his old self again, ordering everyone around and running his tight ship, same as always.”
Yes, but without me.
Karla was pleased when Luke took advantage of the lull in the table talk and struck up a conversation with Cassie, trying to draw her out of her silence. His knowledge on the subject of fine art surprised Karla. He worked as a carpenter and woodworker. Of course, he’d shown a knack for designing some of the unique pieces of equipment used in the club.
Cassie seemed equally surprised. “How do you know so much about art?”
“I was an art major in college." When Cassie's eyes opened wider, he explained. "The University of Texas, where I went on a football scholarship, didn’t have the industrial arts major I wanted. But I’m really glad I chose studio art instead. It's helped me a lot with my work.”
Cassie gave him a hesitant smile, then her brow furrowed and she retreated again, focusing on her food. Well, it was a start at least. At least the two of them had found common ground to build on.
Karla’s eyelids burned. She wished she and Adam could find common ground. Karla laid her fork on the table, no longer able to eat for the anxious churning in her stomach.
Chapter Two
That night, Karla’s neck ached from sleeping curled up in the chair beside Adam’s bed yet again. After two weeks of bedside vigils—first in the hospital and then at home—it was a wonder she could move her neck. She glanced at him, all stretched out on the other side of his king-sized bed. His chest rose and fell in rhythmic breathing. As usual, he slept without a shirt; the sheet and blanket pulled down to his waist. His pecs were ripped, those delicious nips begging to be sucked to granite-hard peaks, just the way she’d always fantasized. His body looked as firm and tight as she’d imagined it all those years ago. She smiled when she remembered wanting to try to bounce a quarter off his chest and licking his pecs the first time she’d seen him without his shirt.
Oh, don’t go there, Kitty.
She hadn’t reverted to her high-school nickname in a while. Must be because Cassie was here and still called her that. Karla looked longingly at the large bed. Surely Adam wouldn’t mind if she lay down on this side. There easily was room for three people in the bed. She was exhausted and hadn’t been able to sleep more than in small snatches since the attack.
Karla lifted the sheet and blanket and crawled between the sheets. Heaven. Funny how a bed could make such a difference in the ability to relax. Knowing Adam slept peacefully beside her and was on the mend, reminded her that her time here was limited. She would take what she could get. If this would be the only time she “slept” with Adam, then so be it.
The thought that he didn’t want her in his house or club anymore, and had said as much at the hospital, caused an ache in her chest. He hadn’t mentioned it again since they’d brought him home—and she certainly didn’t bring it up—but she wouldn’t continue to live with him as she had been. Wanting, needing, but having him ignore her. The pain of having him so near and not being able to touch him, to love him, was more than she could bear.
Except for tonight. Even though he slept beside her, she still couldn’t embrace him. But she could pretend. They looked like any married couple sleeping side by side after many years together. Not touching, but still irrevocably connected. Tonight, she felt closer to Adam than ever.
At last, the sleep that had eluded her since Adam was injured beckoned. She surrendered...
Adam’s hard body nestled against her backside, and his arm curled around her waist with his firm hand cupping her breast. She’d had erotic dreams of Adam before and gave in to this one, snuggling against him. His erection—larger than she’d dreamed it in the past—pressed against her ass. The hand on her breast stirred and his finger and thumb rolled her nipple, causing her hips to jerk back against his hard penis.
Karla gasped. Too real. Her eyes flew open to find herself in near darkness, but she came fully awake in an instant. This was no dream.
More like a dream come true.
Adam!
He continued to play with her nipple, teasing it to the point of pain, sending jolts of electricity to her girly bits. She held her breath, not wanting to wake him. Not wanting to stop him.
Touch me.
His hand left her breast and roamed across her abdomen. Oh, dear Lord, had he heard her silent plea? Or had she spoken the plaintive words aloud? She raised her leg, tenting the covers, giving him easier access. Usually she slept in the nude, but the thigh-length t-shirt had been her concession to decency while watching over Adam. She wore no panties and knew she was seconds away from having Adam’s fingers on her…
Touch me there, Adam.
His hand continued to glide down her body, over her hips, onto her bare thigh, then he stopped. No! Not yet! He stroked her inner thigh and pulled her legs even more open, and his hand moved upward. Her heart pounded in her ears.
Oh, yes, love. There.
If he stopped now, she’d surely die. She licked her lips, which had gone dry. When had she started panting like a dog in heat? Oh, dear Lord. She should wake him. This wasn’t right. He didn’t even know he was with her. He could be dreaming of Joni.
No. She wouldn’t think about his dead wife now. Joni was gone. Joni couldn’t give Adam what he needed anymore.
But would Karla stop him, even if she wanted to? She needed his hands on her so badly. Had craved this moment for so many years. When his finger slid over her clit, she gasped. So sensitive. The little nubbin went into spasms. She’d touched herself there before with her fingers and her vibrator, but no one else had ever done so. What a difference—not knowing how he would caress her, where, when, how much pressure.
His finger delved between her curly folds and pressed against her pussy’s very wet opening. He entered her, filling her tight hole, but didn’t go far before he pulled out again and returned to touching her clit. She’d dreamed of having Adam touch her like this for so long. Now he was doing just what she wanted. She’d always hoped one day he would make love to her.
But not like this.
She had to wake him. Whether he was in a deep sleep or under the influence of the pain killers, it was wrong to take advantage of him like this. She scooted onto her back to face him and he nuzzled her neck, his whiskers scratching against the tender skin there. Her clit throbbed against his finger.
“Oh, God, Karla. Now you’ve invaded my fucking dreams.”
Karla? He’d said her name! Adam was dreaming about her. Not Joni. A delicious euphoria spread through her that felt like when she hit a particularly high note with perfect pitch. She relaxed and smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck, then easing away again when she remembered his injuries. His finger continued to stroke her clit, and she rocked against his hand, moaning.
Don’t stop, Adam.
Her heartbeat sent an insistent throbbing to her clit. More. Oh, dear Lord, she wanted so much more of him. As if he heard her, he raised his body, groaning in pain. Marc had said he should avoid strenuous activity. Oh, God. How strenuous was too strenuous?
All lucid thought vanished as his body hovered over hers, his finger inside her. Instead, she thought about whether she should stroke him; how she should move. With tentative fingers, she stroked his bulging, corded biceps, shivering at the raw power there, despite his having been weakened from the cougar attack.
“So wet,” his voice rasped.
His finger entered her again. Then another finger. Oh, God, yes. She bucked her hips up against him.
“I can’t wait, kitten. I promise I’ll go slower next time.”
Kitten. The endearment melted her into a pool of Jell-O.
He pushed his sweatpants off his hips, releasing his penis. His very hot, hard penis which now pressed against her pussy. He rubbed the tip against her cleft, from her vagina to her clit, again and again. Oh, yes. At last, he was pressing against her pussy, pushing himself inside, slowly filling her. Her hips bucked up toward him, taking him deeper.
“So fucking tight.”
His finger stroked her clit and she moaned as waves of sensation spread through her. She felt as if she would fly off the bed.
“Yes, Adam. Don’t stop.” His finger moved faster. “Oh, God!” She moved her hands up to stroke Adam’s chest. His pecs felt like steel. “Oh, please, don’t stop!” Her hips began to buck even harder, against his finger, his penis.
“Come for me, kitten.”
His finger against her clit stroked faster, sending waves of electricity throughout her pelvis. “Yes. Oh, Adam, yesss!” She found herself just on the edge of a precipice, hovering above the unknown. Step off. Fly. Her breathing stopped. “Oh, oh, ohhhh!” So close. She wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, pulling him down to kiss her. With a groan, he rammed his penis fully inside her.
Her scream of pain filled his mouth and brought his body to a halt. The unanticipated pain registered in her mind a half-second later. Tears stung her eyes. She’d read about the breaking of a woman’s hymen and how much it was supposed to hurt, but she’d had no idea. Luckily, just as quickly as the pain had come, it receded.
“No fucking way.”
She opened her eyes to look up at him and found Adam staring down at her in disbelief as realization dawned.
She whimpered. She wanted. She needed.
“Adam, I saved myself for you. I wanted only you. Please don’t pull away from me now.”
The look of torture and remorse on his face hurt exponentially more than the hurt she’d felt a moment ago. “What have I done, Karla?”
“Nothing I didn’t want you to do.” She reached up and stroked the planes of his beautiful face. “I wanted you to make love to me more than anything, Adam.”
But not as much as I want you to love me.
“I’ve never wanted anything more in my entire life.” She tilted her hips, wincing at the residual tenderness, but she wanted Adam to finish what he’d started, damn it. “Please, don’t leave me like this.”
Please don’t leave me—ever.
With a groan, he lowered his forehead to hers, gasping for air from his earlier exertions. Then his hips began to move as he pulled out of her. No, Adam! She clenched her vagina around his penis, not wanting to let him go. When he thrust back inside her, it caused some discomfort, but she controlled her facial expression, not wanting to reveal any negative emotion for fear he would stop. Oh, she didn't want him to stop. She smiled, then gasped and held on when his finger stroked the nubbin that had become even more sensitive than before. She tried to evade his finger.
“Stop. It’ll be better for you this way.”
Trusting him, she spread her legs open wider and wrapped them around his waist, resting her heels at the small of his back, hoping she’d avoided the places where he’d been mauled by the cougar. He pulled out and rammed himself inside her even deeper, forcing the air from her lungs. So full.
“Oh, yes!”
At her cry, his movements increased. The feeling of oneness with him was unexpected. Her Adam, at last making love to her. She raised her hips to meet him, stroke for stroke. His finger slid along the side of her clit, not quite touching it directly now, matching the movements of his hips. Pressure built up inside her again, but even more intense than the last time. As he continued to thrust in and out, his finger touched her clit and she climbed toward the precipice again.
“Oh, Adam! Please don’t stop!”
“As if I could.” His voice was raspy with sleep, or perhaps the drugs. But he knew it was Karla he made love with. She smiled.
His strokes increased again. Hips. Finger. Penis.
“Come with me.”
His finger applied direct, rapid pressure against her clit. “Yes! Oh, Adam! Yesssss! Oh, God, yesss!” She hurtled over the precipice as her insides exploded. Her hips convulsed against him and her pussy clamped onto his throbbing penis as he spurted inside her. She screamed her final release.
Adam grunted as he pumped inside her. “God, yes, Karla!” Then he stopped abruptly, his breathing labored as he recovered from the exertion, the first real exercise he’d had since before the attack. “Aw, fuck.”
Aw, yes, Adam. A great fuck.
“Tell me you’re on birth control.”
What? Her mind was still floating back to earth from the experience and he wanted to talk about contraception? “Birth control?”
He looked down at her, worry and regret in his eyes. She didn’t want him to regret anything about this beautiful moment. But she had to be honest. “I’m sorry…No, I’m not.” Not sorry in the least. If a baby came as a result of what they’d just done, then it would be the most precious gift anyone had ever given her. Even if Adam didn’t want it—or her—she would love his baby for the rest of her life.
He rolled off her, the friction of his penis pulling out of her causing her to wince again. When he covered his eyes with the crook of his elbow, a tear slid from the corner of her eye and she brushed it away before he could see it. He already regretted what they’d done together. She needed to get away from him before she started crying—or decked him. Karla swung her legs over the side of the bed.
“I’m sorry, Karla. I never wanted that to happen.”
He doesn’t want me. Reeling from his rejection, she stood up and ran to her bedroom, feeling a sticky wetness between her thighs. First, a shower. But she wouldn’t be able to wash away the feeling of dirtiness his callousness had made her feel.
No!
No way would she let Adam’s feelings of regret, guilt, and remorse taint the beauty of what they’d just experienced. His lovemaking had been the most wonderful thing to happen in her life. Even better than anything she’d fantasized about all these years. She would hold onto the memory of this night forever.
* * *