AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His respectful nod was akin to the swoon-worthy tip of a cowboy’s hat. His expression confirmed the Mistress and sub undercurrent between them outside the club was starting to compete with whatever force pushed water over Niagara Falls.
Before she’d written “friend” at the end of the note in his office, she’d found herself pausing. The word had been appropriate, conveying that she was offering to go with him tobe supportive. But it wasn’t what she’d wanted to write, and that was what had given her pause.
She’d wanted to write “your Mistress.” Especially after taking him so decisively on the concrete floor of his garage.
Maintain status quo, she reminded herself. Same structure and rules as the club. It was the safest track, for both of them.
She reached the bottom of the stairs. Made the gesture of “you look nice.” It was a brush of the hand near the face, then pointing to him. Her added smile helped translate, but some gestures didn’t need much interpretation.
Tiger actually blushed, sending her heart in a slow flipflop. While he cleared his throat, she sensed Bastion’s fascinated amusement. Tiger pointedly ignored him.
“You look better,” he said. “I’m glad I clean up good enough to be a decent-looking escort.”
Though he seemed okay, she heard the tension in his voice, picked it up in his movement toward her. A lot of stuff was boiling under the surface. While she expected some of it was the hearing issue, the rest of it, the bigger part, was family. Loss. Things he would be facing today.
She was glad she was going with him. As his friendandhis Mistress. Before it was over, she sensed he would need both.
She glanced at Bastion. The office manager, as prescient as always, answered her unspoken question. “I’ll call Stokes before day end and see if they need anything else. If Paula can’t handle it, you know she’ll text you.”
He typed it as he spoke, still including Tiger in the conversation, a consideration she could have kissed him for. Yes, Bastion had every reason to be confident about his annual review.
Tiger’s brow creased. “If you have important stuff to handle, I don’t want to take you away from your job. I can do this on my—”
She stepped up to him, adjusted his tie just for the pleasure of spreading a hand over his chest and feeling that familiar firmness under the unfamiliar clothing. And to tighten it, a subtle threat of choking. When his faintly amused eyes met hers, she mouthed the words.
Shut. Up.
“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured. “You really do look good. Good enough to eat, by the way. How do you say that in sign language?”
She gave him a narrow “behave” look, which made his smile deepen. Tossing Bastion a farewell look, she headed for the door. Tiger beat her there, opening it for her, and brushing his hand against the small of her back. She decided not to treat it as an overstep, mainly because she liked it.
He paused before following her, though, looking back toward the second floor staircase landing. Ros had appeared there. Tiger met her boss’s gaze and gave her a nod. Ros answered it with the same, her expression serious, then shifted her attention to Skye. She lifted her hand in farewell, and headed back up toward the third level.
As he pulled the door closed behind them, Skye was already typing. “What was that about?”
“Your boss gave me a talking to when I arrived. Wanted to be sure you’d be safe today.” Tiger took her hand, squeezed it. “And you will be. This is at the clubhouse, but it’s a family thing. Nothing bad is going to go down today, and the property is secure. Nobody strikes the Fallen Angels on their home turf.”
Ros must have told Bastion to let her know first when Tiger arrived. While Skye thought about being offended by it, Tiger must have read that from her. “Hey, it didn’t bother me. Just the opposite. Having a family who cares about you, who has your back, no matter what? There’s nothing wrong with that.” Hisexpression became hard, more brittle. “Where we’re going today is the opposite of that.”
Cyn rejoined Bastion after Skye and Tiger closed the door. She shifted to see them through one of the tall front windows. As Skye and Tiger walked toward the gate, Tiger’s hand hovered at Skye’s elbow, saying he’d noted the uneven pavement of the walkway. Like most of the sidewalks in historic New Orleans, it had become that way due to the roots of the old oaks that flanked them.
With a tilt of his head, Bastion drew Cyn’s attention to the office area through the archway to his right. Several staff members were at the windows, enjoying the look of Tiger at their IT/Communication manager’s side.
“The women have been ogling him since he crossed the threshold,” Bastion said under his breath. “Disgraceful.”
“Tell Vera she needs to do a blast,” Cyn responded. “Only upper management has ogling privileges.”
Tiger held the passenger door for Skye, giving her a hand up onto the running board. He had brought his work truck, with Roseland Garage printed on the side. The black truck gleamed from an obviously recent wash and polish. The graffiti-style tiger logo was vividly eye catching. Even at this distance, the cat’s gaze pierced the viewer.
“Nice work,” Bastion said. “She put extra effort into it.”
“Yes, she did.” As Skye settled into the passenger seat, Cyn moved to the window to get a closer view. She saw Tiger slide into the driver’s side, say something to her. Skye made a gesture.
You’re welcome.
Bastion came to her side, arms crossed over his broad chest. His locs brushed the firm set of his ass in dark slacks. Cyn knew a lot of subs who’d gotten their own ass beaten for not being able to keep their eyes off of that toned perfection. And welcomed the punishment.
“Looking at that logo,” he said thoughtfully, “you could say she put her brand on him a long time ago. Even if she didn’t realize it then.”
