Lean on Me
Page 23

“No, Z. She's done.” Cullen swung down and lifted her off the horse. Argument over. If Z got pissed off, they could fight it out later.
He wrapped her in a subbie blanket from the table, took long enough to toss a NEEDS CLEANING sign over the horse's neck, then lifted her. He grunted as her weight pulled against the burn on his shoulder. Hurt like hell and he didn't give a damn. Not a tiny lightweight, his sub, but a solid armful of woman. Just my size.
She blinked up at him. “You're not supposed to say no to Master Z,” she whispered, her words slightly slurred. “He's the owner.”
Cullen growled. “And I'm your Master. He'll have to live with it.” He glanced around, prepared to be as hard-assed as it would take, but Z and Gary had disappeared. What the fuck was that all about, anyway?
No matter. He pressed a kiss to her soft curls and headed for the quiet area of the main room. Her words still sang in his head like an unnoticed tune. “I only want you.”
In a back corner, he settled in his favorite chair and leaned her against him. The scent of her arousal and fragrance of her body drifted from under the blanket, pushing him past hard into serious pain. His balls felt as if they were being squeezed in a wrench. He frowned. Seemed like he hadn't taken a sub since Andrea had arrived. He'd not gone that long without sex in years; no wonder he hurt.
The woman had snuck up on him, hadn't she? He shifted her, and her eyes drifted up. Golden brown lion's eyes.
When her soft ass wiggled slightly, he tightened his arms, keeping her in place. Much more of that and he'd bend her over a chair and take his pleasure right then and there.
She frowned, undoubtedly noticing what her ass rested on. “You need…” Her brows drew together. “May I offer…?” He could see her trying to come up with the appropriate words. “Um, if you want to… I'd be…”
So worried and generous. He chuckled and saw her shoulders relax. With one hand, he held her for his kiss.
Her lips softened, and her mouth opened to him, her entire body surrendering. He kissed her gently. Thoroughly. A woman could lie with her words, sometimes with her face, but rarely with a kiss. Not for long.
The submission that had given her so much trouble was offered now with her whole heart. Was he going to take it?
His cock ached like a sore tooth when he pulled back.
“You need me,” she murmured.
“Sweetie, I fully intend to have you before the night is over. But I'll wait until your body recovers. Did you enjoy your horse ride?”
Her gaze held accusation, and she struggled to sit up. “How could you do that to me? In front of everyone?”
With a hand between her breasts, he pressed her back down. “In the Shadowlands, lying at all is a problem; lying about having an orgasm is a crash-and-burn offense.”
“Well, fine.”
“Now answer my question.”
Her eyes snapped up. “I… Obviously I got off. But it was so impersonal.” She hesitated, then added with a truthfulness that pleased him immensely, “Having you holding me helped.”
“Good girl,” he said softly and watched a happy smile lighten her face.
A little submissive with a giving heart. Damn, he couldn't hold out forever, not if he stayed around her.
But, hell, he didn't even really know her.
And then again, he did. BDSM cut past the polite rituals and into the naked core of a person. He knew the courage she showed when afraid. Her sense of humor might be quieter, but was as ingrained as his. He'd seen her pleasure in helping and serving, seen her modesty and her passion. If he didn't know her favorite color—though he doubted it was pink—did it really matter?
Andrea realized she'd drifted off when she woke to hear low voices.
“That is unacceptable.” Master Z sounded furious.
Oh, Dios, would he fire Señor for telling him no? She jerked upright, still in Master Cullen's arms. “Don't be mad at Señor. He was only defending me,” she said. “It's his job because he's the trainer. He shouldn't get in trouble for that.”
Master Z looked confused; then a smile erased the hardness off his face. He glanced at Señor. “She defends you well. I'm pleased.” His dark gray gaze dropped to her. “I'm not angry at Master Cullen, little one. We were discussing a problem at a downtown club.”
Ooops. She'd broken right into a conversation between Doms—Masters, no less. And once again had given orders. “I'm sorry.”
She crawled back into her blanket like a kid trying to pull the covers over her head and rested her head against Señor's shoulder. A laugh rumbled through his chest, and she closed her eyes. Maybe she wasn't totally screwed.
As she inhaled his wonderfully masculine scent, the memory of him saying no to Z enveloped her with more warmth than a blanket could provide. No one had ever stood between her and harm.
“We're taking advantage of the heat wave and having the after-hours St. Patrick's Day celebration outside,” Master Z said. “Bring your sub and come on out.”
Your sub? Did he mean her? She lifted her head far enough to peer over the folds of the blanket.
Master Z's eyes glinted as he said to her, “Don't bother to dress.”
Oh…Dios. As Master Z walked away, Señor set Andrea on her feet and stood. He tilted her chin up. “Will it be a problem for you to stay up late?”
“No. I spend a lot of time awake at night.” She rubbed her eyes and realized the room had emptied. Her lack of sleep had obviously caught up with her, and she'd sacked right out on Master Cullen's lap. “Sorry about falling asleep.”
“I enjoyed holding you, sweetheart.” His eyes held something…different, something that made her want to snuggle back in his arms.
She'd better not push her luck. She retreated a step. “What kind of party is this?”
“Just remember you have a safe word, pet.” At the words and his amused smile, worry and anticipation slid like an ice cube up her spine.
He pulled her blanket off and tossed it on the chair, leaving her completely naked as he led her across the empty barroom.
A door marked PRIVATE on the buffet-side opened to a hallway at the end of which another door let them out on the side of the house. The unseasonably warm night air surrounded her. A tiny rock path, damp against her bare feet, led around the corner to the back and a covered lanai. Dim lighting came from wrought-iron sconces that matched the larger ones in front. More light flickered from candle lanterns on the tables.
She heard laughter and talk, and her feet stopped without her orders. Dios, she didn't have any clothing on.
Cullen set a hand on her low back and nudged her forward. “You've met all the Masters already, love. I think you'll like their subs.”
The lush plantings around the lanai edges and flowers cascading over the sides of hanging pots filled the area with a tropical fragrance. The center of the outdoor room held chairs and a wrought-iron and oak table on a rich Oriental carpet. The far end of the patio contained a massive barbeque. Near it, a naked woman pulled soft drinks from a tiny refrigerator.
Too many people… Andrea's feet stopped again.
A small distance away, Master Dan stood with his arms crossed and watched a short, curvy sub as she stripped off her dress. Master Nolan of the Shibari ropes had his arm around his slender redheaded sub who was also naked.
Andrea's muscles loosened slightly. Maybe she wouldn't feel so out of place as she'd thought. All the Doms wore clothing though. Didn't that just figure?
“Better?” Cullen murmured.
She glanced up, saw the crease in his cheek. He'd seen her discomfort and let her look. How could she not adore the man? “Yes. Thank you, Señor.”
“Good.” He raised his voice. “This is my sub, Andrea, and she's never been to a private party before, so go easy.” He pulled Andrea closer and pointed to each woman in turn. “Master Nolan's sub, Beth. She runs a gardening service and does the gardens here. Master Dan's sub, Kari. She's a schoolteacher. Master Z's sub, Jessica. She's an accountant.”
The subs all smiled but didn't speak, so Andrea decided to keep her mouth shut. She nodded instead.
A door closed softly overhead, and Andrea looked up. A flight of steps led to the third story. Master Z walked down with a tray in his hands.
“He lives on the third floor,” Cullen said as Z strolled over.
“Andrea,” Z said. “Welcome. We have a few rules you must observe during our parties. Follow the usual trainee rules. And subs speak only when spoken to or after obtaining permission. What is your safe word?”
Why did that question always make her shiver? “Red, Sir.”
“Very good.” He held out his hand, and his sub who had just walked up took it. How had he sensed Jessica's arrival? “Kitten, I don't think Andrea had any food tonight.” His lips quirked. “And please have her drink a bottle of water before moving on to something more substantial. Master Cullen made her ride the Sybian earlier.”
“Yes, Sir,” his sub said.
Master Z kissed his sub's fingers, then left.
“Let Jessica feed you, love,” Cullen murmured, his knuckles brushing her cheek. “I'll be right over there if you need me.” He followed Z.
The feeling of abandonment made her hands clench. Dios, she didn't belong here with these rich people. The women worked, she told herself, but still, none had crawled out of the slums, had they? She—