Claiming Cleo (Masters Club 2)

“I’m not letting you get away again,” he breathed into her hair. “Not this time.”

Chapter 16

Though Master Jack had released Cleo from the terms of the auction contract, they still had three glorious days to be together. Cleo’s Masters Club duties remained temporarily suspended. While she had no idea what was going to happen at the end of those three days, she was so deliriously happy at the moment that she chose not to focus on that.

They made slow, delicious love in Cleo’s tiny bed. There were no cuffs, rope or impact toys. Only Master Jack’s strong, hard body draped over hers, his cock filling and lifting her out of herself to a place of pure, wild sensation and passion. While she still wasn’t entirely sure what the future held for her, Jack’s revelations about his feelings for her had changed everything.

She could no longer deny, despite her attempts to convince herself and everyone around her, that she’d gotten over Jack Hartford. The plain, unalterable fact was, she’d never managed to oust him from her heart.

After the lovemaking, they drifted for a while in a satiated, post-orgasmic haze. Cleo rested her head on Jack’s chest, his arm draped comfortingly around her.

“Hey,” he said eventually, shifting to a sitting position and rousing Cleo in the process. “Let’s go do something fun. I haven’t had a chance to walk around the city at all since I’ve been back. How about we head over to Washington Square? Maybe check out some of the shops in the Village?”

He patted his flat abs, adding, “I could go for a couple of good old New York dirty dogs with sauerkraut and onions. They still got the pushcarts on the streets?”

“They do,” Cleo agreed, sitting up as well and realizing she was hungry, too. “And that’s a super idea.” She wrinkled her nose. “When I first got here, I was horrified when I heard about these dirty dogs people raved about. Why would anyone want to eat something with such an unappetizing name? But then my friend, Jess, convinced me to try one, and I was sold. Better than bangers and mash, which is saying a lot,” she added with a laugh.

Dirty dogs, Cleo had eventually learned, got their name because of the way they were cooked. As the hot dogs simmered all day in boiling water, the excess salt and fat released into the water resulted in the colorful but misleading name.

They took a quick shower together in her tiny bathroom before dressing. Master Jack chose a pretty summer dress with spaghetti straps from Cleo’s wardrobe for her to wear. It was a loosely flowing dress that stopped just above her knees. He allowed her to wear underwear, but when she reached for one of her bras, he said, “No. You won’t need that.”

The cotton fabric of her dress was thin, her nipples clearly visible beneath. Cleo, an exhibitionist by nature, didn’t mind. And anyway, this was New York. No one would bat an eye at unfettered breasts.

When they came down to the first floor, Eric was in consultation with Mistress Dominique. She looked up as Master Jack and Cleo approached, lifting her finely arched brows as she took in Cleo’s outfit. “Going somewhere?”

“We’re going to take a walk around the Village,” Master Jack answered. Addressing Eric, he added, “How’s Rowan doing? We were worried about her.”

“That’s what Dominique and I were just discussing,” Eric replied. “The new trainee is working with Brandon right now on slave positions. She’s calmed down since this morning. But she’s not being very forthcoming about what’s going on in her head right now. From the little she’s said, I’m concerned about this so-called Master of hers. I’m not entirely comfortable that he knows what he’s doing when it comes to the whole D/s dynamic.”

“Grayson has left a couple of messages for the guy, but so far he’s not returning any calls. He’s apparently in Japan on business, which I personally think is a good thing,” Mistress Dominique added. “It’ll give Eric time to figure out what’s really going on with this girl.”

They talked a little longer, and then Master Jack and Cleo headed out into the sunshine. Master Jack took her hand as they walked the several blocks from the brownstone to Washington Square Park. Though she remained concerned about Rowan, she took comfort in the fact that those in charge were on the case. Putting those worries aside, Cleo felt like a teenager, giddy with happiness, her feet barely touching the ground.

It was a warm, breezy summer afternoon. Lots of people were at the park, pushing strollers, enjoying picnics on the grass, walking dogs, playing chess, throwing a frisbee, or clustered around any number of street performers and musicians.

Master Jack and Cleo made their way to the hot dog vendor just outside the imposing marble arch at the northern gateway to the park. After getting their hot dogs and sodas, they took their lunch to a bench near the large fountain. As they ate, they talked about life in London versus New York, and caught each other up on mutual acquaintances. It was both fun and strange to be out with Jack like this—like friends or vanilla lovers.