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“Probably not,” he agreed easily. Goddamn it, she could almost hear him shrug. “But see, if you call the cops on me, things might escalate. I haven't had a damn good car chase with the police for a while, and I'm a superior driver compared to the boys in blue. That doesn't mean I can account for the other idiots getting in my way.”
“Are you threatening to crash my car, Jasper?” she asked dangerously.
He scoffed. “I would never destroy your property, Connie. But accidents happen. Now, go calm yourself down and prepare for an afternoon with my kitten. Don't let her drive if she's too upset, okay? I don't give a shit about my truck, brand new or not, but you know what she means to me. Just…call me if you think I need to come pick her up?”
Connie expelled an explosive breath and rubbed her forehead. Jasper was one of her favorite people. One of the most troubled, too, or had been until he'd stopped resisting Anarchy's efforts to get closer to him. He still had issues with his past, which was his asshole parents' doing, and their disappearance after attempting to kidnap Archie was concerning, but Atticus and his crack team of investigatorswere on the case.
He was finally happy, and Connie couldn't be more pleased for him. It was difficult to remain mad when every word he spoke was full of love for the woman he'd almost thrown away through fear. “I'm pissed at you, Jasper, not her. Even if I was, I wouldn't let her drive if I thought she'd come to any harm.”
“Thanks, Con. Try not to rub a hole through your forehead,” he advised, then the line went dead a second time.
Men. It was times like these that she wondered whether it was worth just becoming gay and living a quiet, pleasant life with a fun, sassy female submissive. She dropped her hand from her forehead, and saw she only had a couple of minutes before Anarchy would be allowed through to the office. Clicking back onto her messages, she pulled Thane's up and gave it the bird.
Connie: So you're corrupting the other Masters now? Don't bother picking me up, I can walk.
Master Thane: You won't be able to if you don't lose the attitude.
Connie: You hired someone to steal my car, jackass. Did you think I'd be pleased?
Someone knocked on the door as she waited for a reply. Almost snarling, Connie snapped, “Come in, goddamn it,” as she braced for Thane's reply. She didn't even glance up, her eyes were so focused on the damned dots. Was she acting a little insane? Possibly. But if she was, it was on Thane's head. Why did he like pissing her off? Negative attention was not the same as positive, no matter what anyone said.
A small box dropped down on her desk, pretty much under her nose. She jerked back, looked up, and found Anarchy giving her a hesitant smile. “Anarchy.”
“I think I've worn that expression more times than I can count,” Jasper's kitten said with a quiet laugh. “Part pissed off, part frustrated, and part making a vow to go commando for the foreseeable future. Don't mind me,” she added when Thane's text lit up the screen. “Jasper left me his truck so I can drive myself back. I'm planning on hitting the new lingerie store in the mall if you want to come?”
An automatic refusal came to mind, but Connie stopped herself before she vocalized it. She usually finished sessions about four o'clock if her patient list was light enough, then spent an hour or two updating files, doing research, or attending to whatever outstanding matters were on her desk.
There was no reason she couldn't skip class early, so to speak, was there? Go to the mall, relax and forget about the charming Dom twisting her life into chaos, and then get her good friend Archie to drive her home. Why, yes, that sounded like an idyllic afternoon. “I think I'd like that. Let me fire an email off to the receptionist, okay? Are you okay to drop me off at home after?”
“Sure! Jasper won't mind. Did Thane give you a ride to work this morning?”
“No. I drove, but my car seems to be out of commission for the rest of the day.” Oh, it would singe Thane's ass over an open fire to have his clever little scheme thrown out of whack. “Give me two secs, sweetheart, and we'll get started.”
Anarchy walked over to the couch with a bounce in her step. She was like this at the start of a session, and Connie was always sad to see the sparkle fade. One day, she vowed, Archie would leave her office as buoyantly as she arrived.
With a wiggle of the mouse, Connie brought up the interoffice messaging system on her computer and sent the receptionist—it was Shauna's shift today—telling her that Connie would be leaving the office after her current session ended. With that done, she checked the message Thane had sent, and smirked.
Master Thane: 17.30, sugar.
Master Thane would have a shock, she thought, her mood vastly improved. She reached for the box against her will, intrigued. About ten inches long, three inches high, and five inches wide, the display box was shiny, black, and calling to her. Remembering he was a sneaky bastard, especially using Archie as his mule, Connie lifted the lid, then slapped it down again.
No fucking way.
That was the last straw, she decided with a snarl. Who the hell did he think he was, sending her a giftbox that contained a thick anal plug and a bottle of lube secured firmly in foam packaging at work. Lifting the lid again, she saw he'd written on the underneath.
There's method to my madness, sugar. Be brave and wear the plug. I'll make it worth your while.
Nothing could compel her to put that thing in herself, and she refused to allow him anywhere near her posterior ever again. Jesus, was it not enough for him that she'd surrendered one of the most fortified parts of herself to him last night, allowing him to use not one but twofingers in her asshole? Okay, in the privacy of her thoughts, she might be able to admit that once she'd forced herself to endure the discomfort, having both holes filled at the same time had been…illuminating. The man was too well hung to have more than fingers up her ass when his cock occupied her pussy, and no one would persuade her otherwise.
Shoving the box in the bottom drawer of her desk, Connie rose from her chair and stretched. Setting her brain into work mode, she grabbed two bottles of apple juice and joined Archie on the couch, sitting beside her friend rather than in her usual chair. “Okay, Anarchy. Have you got anything you want to start the session with?”
The sweet little blonde accepted a bottle of juice and shook her head. “Nope. Feeling pretty good at the moment.”
“Mmmn-hmm.” Connie kicked her shoes off and made herself comfortable. She'd learned that if she presented herself in a professional capacity with Archie, her friend clammed up and wouldn't talk. So, there was no notepad and pen, no sitting in the chair, and no shoes. Jasper's kitten relaxed and spilled more details when they talked in a casual fashion, which was fine with Connie. Whatever got the job done. “Maybe we should begin with the bombshell Jasper dropped last night. Did you know he was planning a demonstration of that nature?”
Archie flushed bright red from her throat to her hairline. “When we first scened together, we went through my limits, obviously. Jasper brought up fisting and I…well, I hedged. He gave me a lot of assurances about how he'd take care of me, and I might have given him the green light.” She circled a fingertip around the cap of the juice bottle. “He's mentioned it a few times recently, testing the waters I think, and they've been…receptive.”
“Expanding your horizons. That's good, Archie. If it's something you have an urge to try, go for it. You trust Jasper, and he won't hurt you. I was concerned about the public demonstration—are you okay with it?”
