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"Let's see what happens. Then we can discuss our options."
"I don't like being away from you," he growled, aware of how petulant that might sound.
"I'll take that as a compliment. As long as you remember who's in charge."
"As if I could ever forget." Or want to. He knew she liked saying things like that, because it aroused her as much as it did him. "But you didn't hook up with a lapdog, honey." Sliding his hand farther up her thigh, he reached the smooth skin of her pussy. He sucked in a breath. "No panties?"
"A treat for you." She laughed. "If you're up to it."
At her words his cock swelled and pressed against the rough denim of his fly. "Oh, I think every bit of me is up to it."
"I thought of ordering you to keep your jeans open and your fly unzipped, to forget about underwear. Then I remembered we would be thousands of feet above the ground and what I had in mind might be a little dangerous."
"You don't think tempting me with your naked pussy is dangerous?" he snickered.
She was silent. He tried to reach into her head, find what she was mulling over so quietly, but he found he hit a wall.
"I didn't know you could do that. Shut me out of your head." He wasn't so sure he liked it either.
"A third mark isn't a two-way street, Quinn. Only when the vampire desires it. There are times my thoughts must remain my own."
"But I don't have the right to do the same with mine."
"No." She was brutally honest, he gave her that, though she had the grace to flush a little at his look. "I'm still close enough to my human origins that I'll try not to abuse your privacy without good cause. But...you're my first full servant, Quinn. I find I like the freedom to move in and out of your mind. It makes me feel like you're even more mine. In a very primitive way that I know should be offensive." She sighed. "Maybe I'm not so close to those origins as I like to believe."
The pain on her face suggested Selene was no less brutally honest with herself than she was with him. There was an odd sort of quid pro quo to that. While he wasn't sure what he felt about her admission that she liked thinking of him as her property, whenever she expressed such thoughts, the emotions she radiated included an intriguing vulnerability, a deep need for him. Maybe he didn't need to be in her mind. Just her heart.
He curled his fingers over hers once again. "Okay, Mistress. But I like it when you let me in. It causes me some problems when you don't as well. It makes me think you don't trust me. Or that I might be failing you."
She shook her head. "I trust you more than I've ever trusted anyone, Quinn. Sometimes the mind blocking is necessary. Please accept that has nothing to do with you and everything with who I have to be. All right?"
He thought it also had to do with her protecting him, and he didn't much care for that. She gave him an even look, didn't respond. But it made him wonder if her next subject change was nevertheless an answer to his thought.
"You did well at Butch's," she said. "In spite of everything, you listened to your Mistress."
His hands tightened on the controls. "I didn't like him hitting you."
"I know." She clasped his wrist, fingers tightening. "But it had to be done. I told you. Violence is a part of this life. It's something we accept. Fortunately, we all heal fast."
"Yes, but I don't have to like it."
"But you do have to control yourself and you did it admirably."
Her praise warmed him, even as the issue clawed at him. He wasn't going to get the image of her going down under Butch's blow out of his mind any time soon. "Well thanks. I guess."
"Since you did so well, I thought you might like a bit of a reward."
His cock flexed again and his mouth went dry. "What might that be?"
"I figured we could make use of what's left of the night after we land, before I have to leave." She tightened her thighs around his hand. "I'm sure we can think of something creative to do with the rest of the night."
Yeah? Quinn wished the damn plane had an accelerator so he could make it go faster.
"That sounds like a plan." Hell yeah, it did.
She ran her fingers the length of his extended arm. "I think we both need a little tenderness, don't you? A respite from last night?"
Fuck yes, he did.
"So," she murmured, "can you make this plane go any faster?"
He laughed. "Fortunately we aren't far from home."
Thirty minutes later they were over the Last Chance Ranch. He flipped the switch in the cockpit that turned on the landing lights and brought the plane in on a smooth approach, touching down and taxiing up to the steel hangar. When he pressed another button the wide door slid up and he eased the plane inside.
"Very clever," she commented.
"Pretty basic," he told her. "But it suits my needs for whenever I get to use it. Come on. Let's get up to the house. I see someone left a light on in the kitchen for us."
Quinn reined in his impatience while he did his post-flight check on the plane and locked everything down. He'd ferried them to the hangar in the four-wheel-drive and he used it now to get them back to the house. When he ushered Selene through the mud room and into the kitchen, he saw Annette with a glass of iced tea standing by the counter. It was close to midnight. He lifted his eyebrows in silent question.
"I wanted to make sure you and the young lady got back okay." Her voice, as usual, sounded like gravel rolling around on metal. She held out her hand. "Call me Annette."
A tiny smile played at Selene's lips as she shook Annette's hand. "I'm Selene."
"I figured." Annette looked his Mistress up and down. "You're the one who's got them all chasing their tails at After
Hours, right?"
Quinn tensed, but Selene touched his arm in a reassuring gesture. "That's me. I think their tails needed a lot of chasing."
Annette gave a hearty laugh. "You'll do. Yes, you'll do." She inclined her head at Quinn. "You take care of this roughneck too?"
"Hey," Quinn protested.
Selene just ignored him. "And he takes care of me."
Annette nodded. "All right then. I made a chocolate cake, in case you two were hungry. I'll be going down to my place." Pausing at the back door, she raked her gaze over them. Quinn felt his cheeks heating at her regard, as if she could read their intent like they were already stripped naked and ready to go at it like rabbits. "You kids get right on to bed now." She was chuckling as she closed the door, went down the walkway.
Quinn shook his head. "Sorry about that."
"I like her. She's quite a character. How old is she?"
"She always says somewhere between sixty and a hundred and sixty. I'm not sure I'd know what to do here without her. She gets stuff done that I don't even think of."
"A good person to have."
He looked at the cake tin. "Want a snack before we head off to the bedroom? I mean, I know you can only have a bite, but..."
"You're hungry. I have a better idea." Mischief flashed in her eyes. "Why don't I go to the bedroom and you get yourself a snack?"
"I'm okay. I can wait until--"
"No, you can't." She gave him a look full of heat. "You'll need your energy as my servant, Quinn. If you learned one thing the other night, it's that you never skip meals if you want to be ready to serve your Mistress."
"I don't know." He gave her just as thorough an appraisal head to toe, lingering on her thighs, the thrust of her breasts, the graceful line of arm and throat. The cocky challenge to it made her eyes spark in response. "She seemed to like feeding me herself. Got her nice and wet."
She tossed her hair. "Fine then. Get a snack, lapdog, then bring the cake back into the bedroom to share. We can give new meaning to the phrase eating in bed."
