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“Just in case what?” she hissed.
Oh, without their agreement in place, he'd have her bare-assed over his knees and spanked simply for the bitchy tone. Instead, he drank again, meeting the eyes of the other Masters. Keeping his voice low, he said, “Subdrop isn't uncommon after an intense scene. Limits were pushed, which means there's a chance nightmares or panic attacks will occur. So unless one of these gentlemen or Anarchy are spending the night with you, you're stuck with me.”
She flicked that finger up again. “Now youcan sit and swivel, Thane. I'm capable of handling myself—”
“And isn't it lucky you won't have to tonight?” he interrupted, more sharply than he'd intended. “Take the help when it's offered, Mistress. If you're shy, I can always crash on the couch.” He glanced up at her and saw she had the faintest flush sheening her cheeks. “Or you can strap me down and continue where you left off in there.” He tilted his head toward the private room.
With a sniff, she jerked her head away and gazed at something across the room. But, he thought with amusement, she didn't take another sip of wine. Score one for the Doms' side of the room.
“So, there's chemistry between the two of you,” Jasper commented, leaning back and running his fingers through the long blonde locks of his submissive. She tilted her face back, her features serene. Thane experienced a pang of envy. “I'm happy for you, Connie. Kevin and David were excellent subs, but I don’t think I ever saw you react to them the way you do with Thane.”
He lifted his hand, swiped it across his throat to tell Jasper to shut up. Connie didn't need a reminder of who she'd lost or why—she had to look at the present, the future, and focus on that. On him, because he didn't have any plans to walk away from her. He was starting to think he'd found his near-as-damn-it perfect match.
“Start acting like a sulky sub and people are going to notice,” he murmured to her, running his hand down her calf. “I'm assuming none of them have ever seen you behaving like anything other than a Domme, so they're gonna sit up and wonder what's made you change, sugar. If you're tired, I'll take you home. We can deal with your attitude problem there if it's still an issue.”
She didn't flip him the bird again, and she didn't dump the wine on his head—wins on both counts, he mused. But she looked downright miserable, and he stood by his decision to keep an eye on her. Just because she was freezing him out didn't mean he couldn't withstand the chill. Whatever reason she had for giving him the cold shoulder, he'd dig it free and use it to make her ass sing. Secrets were the things that rotted away a good foundation, and he'd seen enough solid relationships go down through lies and deceit—relationships that should have withstood the end of the goddamn world.
His time in the military had built bonds that had lasted beyond the terms of the contract. Being deployed overseas, shot at, mopping up blood and sewing up wounds, created ties between people that were damn hard to break. It could be done, of course, for good reasons or bad, but in the thick of things, completing missions and survival of the team was the priority.
Thane’s brothers-in-arms, first in the standard unit and then in the special project, had been a great source of companionship, entertainment, frustration, and rivalry.
God, he missed those fucking idiots.
But it was that joy, that connection, that Connie needed to rekindle.
Polishing off his bottle of water, Thane braced his hand on the seat and rose. “I'll take these to the bar, then we'll head home.” His bum leg groaned pathetically, threatening to give way. “Someone isn't quite back to her normal self after last night.”
He limped up the stairs, empty bottles and Connie's glass in hand. Using the time to stretch out his leg, he moved slowly, then rubbed the muscle when it ached. Liam took the bottles and the unfinished wine, dutifully shoving them into the dishwater. He gave Thane a slow look over, raising an eyebrow. “Hip or knee?”
Thane smirked and patted his thigh in answer. “The between. Drive carefully, Liam. Accidents hurt like a motherfucker, and cause untold problems for years down the line.” He laughed at himself, then shook off the sense of grief. Maybe he couldn’t tackle an assault course anymore, but he still had the limb. “Ignore me. It's been a long weekend.”
“Tell me about it. I don't know what we'd do without Connie, but I don't think any of us really know how to handle her.” The Viking Master's voice dropped. “She's a force of nature as a Domme but as…the other,” he muttered as someone slipped onto a stool a few feet down, “it's kinda like juggling a bomb covered in triggers and not knowing which one's gonna detonate that sucker.”
“Atticus seemed to manage.”
“Atticus is…Atticus. He literally tackles anything and anyone, no matter what it is. But he doesn't go in and demolish it, you know? He weighs a situation up and uses whatever he thinks best to make it come out the way he wants it. This particular situation was having trouble seeing him as an authority figure.” Liam flipped a towel over his shoulder and started pulling a beer from one of the several taps running along the stretch of bar. “I figure the situation is giving you the same run around?”
“Yes and no. Sometimes it goes the way I want, and sometimes I have to exert undue energy to wrangle it there.” He rubbed his hand over his face, exhausted by the fight yet to come. “We'll get there. It's a slow process, and there are adjustments to make. Every step is a learning one.”
“Well, you've got us at your back.” With the beer pulled, Liam flicked the towel off his shoulder and wiped away the trail of foam running down the side of the glass, then slid it down the bar. “You gonna keep her when this is all over and done?”
“Think she'd have me?” Thane glanced over his shoulder, just to make sure she hadn't made a run for it, and wasn't too pleased to find Atticus had his sub looking decidedly uncomfortable with what appeared to be a few hard words and hand gestures. Well, hell. He tried not to roll his eyes when Jasper looked over and gestured for him to go. “Fuck. Excuse me, Master Liam. I'm being summoned.”
“So you are. Don't let her get the better of you, Thane.” With a sympathetic wink, Liam wandered off.
Gritting his teeth, Thane headed back to the pit. He wanted a hot bath to soak his aches, some tiger balm to rub into the tight muscles, and maybe a good, long, easy fuck with a woman he cared for. That would round the rest of his night off perfectly. “Mistress Connie, is there a problem?” he asked from the top of the stairs, flicking his gaze from Atticus's face to Jasper's, then down to the almost sheltered profile view of Connie.
From the furious expression on Atticus's face, yeah, there was a problem. Goddamn it. Thane limped down the steps and sat beside her, crossing his leg over his opposite knee to take some of the strain off. It would work, for a few minutes. “Something you'd like me to take care of, either of you? You're sitting here looking like you're about to stage a scene from Gladiator in the middle of Avalon.”
Connie just shook her head and lowered her eyes. Probably so he wouldn't see the tears gleaming, Thane thought in exasperation, but she was too late. He'd seen and now he had to coddle. “I think I'm ready to go home now, Thane.”
Tough, sugar. On a heavy breath, he reached over and pulled her onto his lap. When she couldn't even glare at him in admonishment for taking such liberties in public, Thane knew the roots of the trouble ran deep. “Okay, we'll hash this sucker out here and now. Atticus, Connie…who wants to speak first?”
The bearded Master crossed his massive arms over his chest, while the sub on Thane's lap turned her face into his chest. Fantastic. Just what he needed. “Neither of you. That's a good start. Jasper, Anarchy? A little help here would be real nice. A subtle hint perhaps?”
“Master Jasper?” Archie whispered, leaning back to study the sadist's face.
Pale blue eyes flicked to the heavens. “Go ahead, kitten. No one else seems to be forthcoming.”
