“That must be it. I went to the farmer’s market this morning. You’ll find fresh produce for the salad in the bin.”
Grateful for the switch back to dinner, she nodded her head, once again turning away from that enigmatic gaze. What the man could do with just a look could either induce shivers of unease or raise goosebumps of awareness, both of which she found difficult to cope with right now.
Cassandra, where are you?
Chapter 13
The deep voices and low laughs coming from the seven men seated around a large table across the cavernous room resounded in the high-ceilinged, converted loft. Sandie listened to them with half an ear as she sat curled in a wide, comfortable armchair situated in a semi-circle along with a couch and another chair halfway between the kitchen and the wall-to-wall bank of windows. Sketching the group of close friends, she continued to marvel at the change in Zachary from when she’d spent those few days with him on the boat. Maybe he’d always been this light-hearted, open and friendly with the men he’d known since their teens, but he sure as heck hadn’t shown an ounce of the protective, caring streak he’d subjected her to the last two days. He could still be an ass, but she’d seen a lot less of that side of him since he’d practically kept her under lock and key in his extravagant penthouse suite. Her complaints and pleas had fallen on deaf ears, and when she’d resorted to angry threats stemming from fear for his safety, he’d either spanked her into orgasm or tied her to his bed and tormented her for what seemed like hours before allowing her relief.
And she’d loved every second of every touch, whether painful or seductive. Mentally shaking her head, she knew she was allowing herself to get in too deep with the man who could turn her inside out with just a look, but so far she had been powerless to stop the quick, escalating spiral of her feelings. Add in his six, panty-melting friends who insisted on helping come up with a way out of her dilemma, and she was toast.
It had been Miles, the one sporting a crossbones tattoo on one thick bicep and who bore a scar down the side of his face that added to the bad boy persona he projected, who set up the gathering this evening in his renovated apartment above his martial arts gym. Zachary insisted she come also because, other than welcoming their friend, Dax, back home, they intended to come up with a game plan to take down Jacques and free her from his clutches. A part of her, a big part, still urged her to flee, not only to protect Zachary and his friends, but herself. But another part that grew with each passing day, desired to stay right where he’d put her.
Sandie’s fear of her stepfather had magnified during the weeks she’d been on the run, the memory of his cold face and even icier tone when he’d ordered the shaking man’s death, wouldn’t leave her alone. She’d never witnessed violence of any sort, let alone a cold-blooded execution. Even though she didn’t stick around to watch the bullet end the man’s life, hearing the report and thud of his body had been enough to haunt her days and nights with nightmares.
A burst of hearty laughter drew her attention over to the table again, and she smiled at the picture they presented. Tossing back beers, laughter interspersed with good-natured swearing and a lot of ‘remember when’s’ and ‘bro’s.’ It couldn’t be more obvious these seven men had bonded in a way rare for their gender. Other than they’d all met at a strict camp geared toward steering juvenile delinquents away from their current paths of self-destruction, she knew little about Zachary’s friends. He didn’t need to tell her they were all as sexually dominant as he, she’d come to know the signs from being with Zachary. Their persistence in getting involved with her problem hinted they also possessed an over-protective streak, such as the one he had recently revealed.
Sandie liked to fantasize she was the reason for his about face, but knew better than to let that wish give her hope they could eventually make something of their odd relationship. She wanted her life back, to go home and see her mother and brother, teach her students again and bask in their beaming faces as they handed her artwork that showed a lack of talent but a wealth of proud accomplishment. Zachary lived a ridiculous, pampered lifestyle that didn’t appeal to her, even if he did. The biggest hurdle when she returned home, if she could return, would be learning to live without feeling her body come apart under the intense look from those cobalt eyes and his hard hands delivering the most wonderful, painful stimulation her body now craved.
Shaking her head, Sandie resumed drawing, trying to get a good likeness of each man to remember them by. Within moments, she became engrossed in her work and didn’t hear Zachary and Troy’s approach until she saw their jean-clad legs in front of her. Glancing up, she winced at the serious look on both men’s faces and noticed the silence coming from the table. A warm flush crept up her neck and over her face from the scrutiny in seven pairs of eyes. Her body went on high alert as Zachary plucked the drawing pad and pencil from fingers gone numb, set them aside and scooped her up to take her seat. Settling her squirming body in his lap with the clamp of one arm around her waist, he issued a firm, “Sit still,” order. Sandie’s immediate compliance drew interested speculation from Troy and the other men she refused to acknowledge.
“Relax. Troy just needs more information before he can look into your problem.”
Sandie switched her glare from Zachary to Troy, who had squatted in front of them. “You know people in Alabama?” she questioned the cop with a touch of sarcasm.
“No, little one, but I have a contact in the Florida Bureau of Investigations who has contacts in other state bureau’s, etcetera. What’s your stepfather’s full name and what city does he live in?”
She hesitated, earning a scowl from both men that had an adverse effect on her body, which apparently wasn’t in sync with her head on this subject. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I don’t want to be responsible… Ow!” An even hotter wave of embarrassment swept over her face as she reached up, shoved Zachary’s offending hand away from her throbbing nipple and covered her breast. She could feel the eyes of the other men on her and didn’t dare glance that way. It was bad enough to catch the spark of interested desire flaring in Troy’s dark eyes that matched Zachary’s intense stare. “Why’d you do that?” she hissed under her breath.
“Because I’m tired of hearing your excuses and lame reasoning. I can take care of myself if for no other reason than I have enough money to buy whatever protection either of us may need. Talk.”
Sandie couldn’t help the sudden urge to smile over hearing the return of his ‘egotistical asshole’ side. For a while there, she’d wondered if he had misplaced it. “Fine. Whatever happens from here on out is on your head.” Dropping her hand, she told Troy what he wanted to know. “Deveau. He’s mayor of Choctaw, Alabama, and if my mother or brother suffer from your interference, I’ll make you suffer.”
“You won’t have to, I’ll take care of that for you.” She’d been so focused on Zachary and Troy she hadn’t noticed Miles walking over to them. “We’ll make sure any investigating into your stepfather won’t put them at risk.” He shifted his coal-black eyes to pin Troy and Zachary with a hidden-meaning look. “Won’t we?”
“Go punch on your bags, Cavenaugh. You know better than to think otherwise.” It seemed Zachary possessed yet another personality facet she’d been unaware of, he didn’t care to have his priorities questioned. Uneasy now, she squirmed on his lap then froze when his rigid erection jerked against her butt.
Rising, Troy clapped Miles on one tense shoulder. “I can use another beer and since you’re our host, you have to get it for me.”
A derisive snort and hint of humor that softened his face preceded Miles’ reply. “Not likely. Get it yourself.”
Sandie’s tense shoulders relaxed along with Miles’ rigid jaw. All that was left to do when Zachary nudged her up and took her hand, was hide her body’s reaction to the roomful of testosterone and Zachary’s overbearing, pussy-dampening control.
“Before we go, I have something for all of you.” Keeping hold of her hand, he sco
oped up a small stack of papers he’d set on the coffee table when they first arrived. Handing each of the guys one, along with a key, he said, “These are copies of the deed to the yacht, as well as a master key that starts the motor and locks everything up. As you can see, we’re all named as co-owners. Consider it an early Christmas present. It’s yours as much as mine and you’re welcome to use it whenever you want. I suggest we set up a calendar so everyone can block off dates they want reserved for private use to avoid problems if two people want to get away alone or with a date.”
Trevor whistled. “Shit, man. I don’t know what to say.”
The others started to reiterate his statement, but Zachary held up a hand, forestalling them. “Don’t say anything. We’re outta here. Troy, keep me informed,” he said as he led her toward the door.
“Us informed,” Sandie added over her shoulder before the door shut on the smirks displayed on the six men’s faces.
The powerful motor of Zachary’s boat purred to life under them with a flick of his wrist, the vibrations shooting up Sandie’s body where she sat in the co-captain’s chair next to him. The clear blue sky promised a beautiful afternoon for their short cruise, and imagining what he had planned with his friends and their dates along, had her perched on the seat, enjoying the tickle of anticipation fluttering under her skin. The outing he scheduled for today was the perfect diversion she needed from the stress of the past few days. Had it really been just two weeks since she’d incurred his wrath when she’d hidden aboard this very boat to avoid detection from Jacques’ men and only six weeks since she’d fled her home in a flight of terror? The time had passed in a blur of conflicting emotions ranging from extreme fear to unbelievable pleasure, with no time in between to adjust to the sudden changes in her circumstances either time.
And the past two days hadn’t been any better. She’d awoken in his bed the last two mornings spooned against his curved body, his cock nestled between her buttocks. Shifting on the leather seat renewed the lingering discomfort of Zachary’s hand connecting with her tender skin that morning as she rode his body with all the enthusiasm of racing the wind on horseback. She could still feel small curls of pleasure pulsing in her vagina from another chart-scaling climax, which confounded her current circumstances even more. Zachary, and his well-meaning friends, were insisting she return to Alabama, along with several of them, to present her eyewitness account to the authorities.
The outing to the mall yesterday hadn’t helped. Zachary ignored her resistance to his offer to buy her some new clothes, stating in that cool, disdainful tone he’d used when they first met how tired he was of seeing her in the same jeans and tee shirts. His criticism had rankled, as he’d known it would, but she didn’t need to be indebted to him any more than she already was, and definitely didn’t want any more reminders of their time together, not when her heart clutched every time she thought of never seeing him again.
Sandie had gotten a little payback when she paraded in front of him wearing the skimpy shorts and sexy, summer tank she had on now. Without a bra, the soft, spaghetti-strapped top with lace trimming around the scooped neckline clung to the rounded fullness of her breasts. The outline of every bump on her areolas couldn’t be disguised, her erect nipples giving away her heightened awareness of what he might subject her to today.
Sandie blew out a sigh as Zachary took them out of the harbor and the endless sea of blue water beckoned. Discovering the Alabama Bureau of Investigations was already investigating Jacques and refusing to comment when Troy’s contact talked to them, hadn’t aided her pleas for all of them to stay out of it and far away from her stepfather. In fact, they’d dug in their heels of insistence even more.
“What’s the sigh for, baby?”
Lips tilting at the corners, she shot him a derisive look. “Sandie, not baby. You’re doing that on purpose.”
“Yes, now answer me. Are you looking forward to the afternoon, or worried about what I might do?”
She still found it difficult to reconcile with the many facets of Zachary’s personality he’d shown her the past few days. The last time she’d been here with him, he’d been surly and uncaring about her personal problems, but she’d still enjoyed his sexual dominance. In the two days since he’d rescued her, that dominance had been in full force for both sex and in exerting protective control over her destiny, and damn it, she couldn’t fault him for it.
“Both,” she finally answered. “But my worry is for your obstinance in getting involved with my problems. What happened to the callous jackass I met last week?”
“Oh, he’s still around, just not around you. Deal with it. We’ll discuss your return home later. This afternoon is for fun, to take your mind off what lies ahead. Why don’t you go mingle, visit with the others while I take us out a few more miles? Then you can help me haul food up to the grill.”
“I don’t know any of the women your friends brought aboard.” Trevor arrived on the bow’s deck just then, the tall, leggy brunette wearing nothing but a thong swimsuit bottom gazing at him with lust-filled expectation. Her breasts swayed as he bent her over the rail, her nipples hardening with the first swat he delivered to her butt with the leather paddle Sandie just noticed clutched in his hand.
“Or better yet, stay a minute and watch,” Zachary said.
“Did you set this up?” she asked in suspicion then winced when a resounding smack against bare flesh reached them behind the helm, along with the woman’s cry.
“I didn’t have to. I’m sure Trevor’s not the only one involved in a scene already. Offhand, I don’t recall his sub’s name, but I recognize her as a regular from the club we’ve all been members of for years, as are the other women guests today.”
“Club? As in sex club—what’s that?” she asked, switching gears when Trevor dropped the paddle and picked up a spreader bar similar to the one Zachary had attached to her ankles. Only, this one included two extra cuffs in the middle of the bar, placed a few inches apart.
“A multi-functional restraint system. Unlike the one you enjoyed, there are multiple positions you can restrain someone in with that one. Looks like he’s planning to make her work a little.”
Cocking her head, it surprised Sandie to discover she wasn’t the least uncomfortable watching the other couple, another perverse side of her that had been hiding all these years. After attaching the end cuffs to the woman’s ankles, Trevor pressed a hand between her shoulders until she bent in half at the waist and he locked her wrists on the bar between her legs. She teetered, and he laughed then slid an arm between her arms and waist and held her pressed tight against his side. Resuming his torment on her butt, he used his hand to pepper her upraised buttocks with a volley of sharp smacks, not stopping until he’d turned the bright red into a darker, maroon hue.
“Ouch,” Sandie mumbled with another wince.
“She’s not complaining.” Flicking her a quick, probing glance, he said, “You don’t appear to have a problem watching others. How about if they want to watch you? Never mind, we’ll find out together.” Trevor’s low grunts drew their gazes back to the couple, and she didn’t shy away from the carnal fucking scene out the window.
Pushing aside the thong, Trevor ploughed the woman’s pussy with deep, plunging strokes, keeping a hold of her around the waist. Her low grunts accompanied each jarring thrust, and as they neared the climax of their little performance, Sandie slid out of the cock pit, not wanting to get confronted about observing even though she knew it was both expected and enjoyed.
“I’m going to mingle, just like you suggested. I’ll be upstairs…” she paused and flipped him a cheeky grin before saying, “probably on the back deck watching the games.” She pivoted away from the knowing twinkle in his eyes, Trevor’s shout and the woman’s scream of pleasure following her to the spiral stairs leading to the top deck.
It warmed Zach to see a return of the teasing minx he remembered from almost two weeks ago. Ever since he’d dragged Sandie back to his place
after rescuing her from those thugs, her green eyes remained shadowed with fear and worry, for both him and herself. Women had always been more interested in what he could do to and for them, not the other way around. He never imagined he’d enjoy a woman fretting over him, or one in his home for days on end. But Sandie had surprised him in more ways than one. His pursuit of her may have started as a way to atone for failing his mother, but he now knew his feelings were involved, and there would be no turning back from them.
Watching Trevor release his submissive guest, he recalled the way Sandie hadn’t shied away from eyeing the other couple. That boded well for fitting in with his friends and the play parties they liked to indulge in. Suggesting she socialize had been a way to get her used to the open displays of sex and different needs and sexual preferences of other submissive women and his friends. Dax and Sean were the only ones who were strict dominants while Miles straddled the line between strict and moderate. But they all insisted on sexual control, enjoyed bondage and meting out erotic discipline.
Once they were miles from the marina and ensured privacy, Zach cut the motor, pausing a moment to enjoy the view he never tired of. He didn’t know what it was about the wide, never-ending expanse of ocean he found so peaceful, just that his cares seemed to melt away whenever he spent time on the water. Stepping out from behind the helm, he barely noticed the slow bob of the yacht as he sauntered down the port side to the stairs leading below deck. Thinking of Sandie’s deliberate taunt in saying ‘back’ instead of ‘stern’ drew a chuckle as he entered the galley.
“What’s so funny?” Jackson glanced over from where he stood loading a tray with finger foods.