Home > Make Me, Sir (Masters of the Shadowlands #5)(50)

Make Me, Sir (Masters of the Shadowlands #5)(50)
Author: Cherise Sinclair

“Do you get the impression we have an overabundance of smart-ass subs?” Master Dan growled to Cullen. He grabbed Kari’s wrists and hooked her cuffs together over her protruding belly.

Cullen’s sub, Andrea, grinned. “Not me. As a past trainee, I’m the very epitome of a submissive, an example to the other subs in my attire and demeanor and obedience.”

That sounded like a quote, but if that had been in the trainee instructions, Gabi had sure missed it.

Cullen stared at his sub in disbelief. “For that absolute whopper of a lie, you may fetch me a beer—and just water for you.”

When she scowled at him, he yanked her dress over her head, leaving her in only a thong. His fingers curled under the thin band on one hip. “Look at me in that tone of voice again, and you’ll lose this too, love.”

As she flounced away, Cullen grinned. “You know, I never get tired of watching that ass, especially when she’s stomping.”

Marcus laughed. He rubbed his cheek against Gabi’s, his beard shadow tantalizingly abrasive, and murmured, “Get dressed, sugar; then fetch us both a drink. Since you’ve been a good girl—for oh, at least the last five minutes…you may have whatever you wish.”

God, she could listen to his voice forever. She turned her face up and whispered, “Thank you, Sir.”

He gave her a kiss as slow and sweet as his Southern drawl.

After squirming into her vinyl skirt and hooking up her corset, Gabi waited at the bar to give her order. An older couple had taken over the closest scene area. In a pink bustier and matching collar, the woman was carefully helped onto a spanking sawhorse by her white-haired dom. They must be around seventy and looked so sweet together. Imagine living with—and loving—someone for half a century.

With fingers knotted by arthritis, the dom stroked his sub’s cheek, and they exchanged a kiss and laughter.

Gabi’s heart squeezed. I want that. I want Marcus to be my dom. My man.

She ordered Marcus’s vodka and a soda for herself from the dom serving as bartender, then made circles in a streak of spilled beer. Marcus acted affectionate. But did he treat all his trainees like her? Wouldn’t he have said something if he figured on seeing her after tonight?

Her insides fluttered as if she’d eaten an anxiety sandwich for lunch rather than tuna. Maybe he thought she wasn’t interested, that she planned to go home and never think of him again. He’s a dom, Gabi; he’d know, one part of her said. The other more optimistic side insisted she should make an effort before giving up.

“Hi there.”

Gabi glanced over and saw the blonde submissive who adored Marcus. Miss Golden and Perfect. “Hi.”

“My Marcus said you’re one of his new trainees.” The woman’s voice was soft and sugar-sweet. “My name is Celine.”

My Marcus. The pain of her claim slid into Gabi’s heart so quickly she had no defense against it. She inhaled carefully and attempted a return smile. “It’s nice to meet you.” And that is so not true. I could have happily lived my whole life without meeting you. “I’m Gabrielle. How long have you two been together?”

“Since spring. He’s everything I ever wanted.” Celine smiled and patted Gabi’s hand. “I’ve watched you, bless your heart. Don’t you realize the doms don’t like bratty submissives?”

“Oh. Really?” Some village somewhere is missing an idiot. “Why, I hadn’t noticed.”

Celine pursed her lips into a moue of disapproval. “That’s why that trainee Sally still hasn’t found a dom who can stand her. I’m surprised Marcus puts up with her. He hates disrespectful behavior.”

Gabi managed not to wince and kept her voice level. “Well, damn. Who knew?”

“Now don’t be hurt,” Celine said. “I’m trying to help.”

On the other side of Celine, Master Dan’s pregnant submissive frowned; maybe she didn’t approve of sarcastic subs either.

“You see, that’s why Marcus loves me so much,” Celine said. “I never give him any trouble or back talk. Whatever he wants is what I want.”

I should punch her. Tear some of her perfect hair out. No submissive in the place would blame me.

The bartender showed up—finally—and set Gabi’s order down. “One Grey Goose, one Coke.”

“Thank you,” Gabi said.

“Oh, is that for my master?” Celine picked up Marcus’s drink. “I’ll save you the trip, and you can get back to waiting on people.” She moved away, gracefully and amazingly fast. Gabi would have had to chase after her like a hound on the hunt.

Gabi watched as Celine, the perfect submissive, handed Marcus his drink and knelt at his feet.

That’s my place.

Marcus said something, and Celine laid her face against his knee.

When Gabi let out the breath she’d held, it felt as if her ribs had collapsed into jagged bones. That completely answered any questions she’d had about…anything. He had someone already, and even if he didn’t, Gabi sure wasn’t the type of sub or woman he wanted. He’d made it clear right from the beginning he wouldn’t tolerate brats. Why had she thought he’d changed his mind?

She glanced at her drink. Bubbles rose in the dark liquid to burst and disappear. Time is up, Cinderella sub. The fairy tale had ended, and she needed to go home. What a shame she’d screwed up the story and her future held no Prince Charming. Heart aching, she headed for the exit.

Before she reached the door, she heard, “Gabrielle.” Not Marcus, with the extra lilt he gave to the end of her name, but Z’s deep voice. She turned.

His brows pulled together. “Were you leaving without saying good-bye?”

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “It seemed easier.”

“Easier isn’t always best,” he said softly.

“No. But it is this time.” Her gaze slid back to Marcus. His blonde submissive had wrapped her arms around his legs. One clinging vine, made-to-order. “Please tell everyone I appreciated their help.”

And saying that reminded her of what was really important. Why was she giving in to these stupid, petty emotions when Kim might be fighting for her life? “I wish we’d caught the guy.”

His gray eyes turned the color of gunmetal. “We won’t stop trying to find them, Gabrielle.”

“I know.” She managed a half smile. “Well. Thanks.”

He silently opened his arms.

She went into his embrace without a second thought, and he held her firmly as she fought tears. Once she had herself under control, she pulled back, and he let her go. Lifting her chin with a finger, he stroked away a tear. “Be safe, little one.”

She fled.

* * *

Well, that answered that, Jessica thought, as Z strode across the room after the damn trainee.

And then Gabrielle walked into his arms like…like she’d already spent a lot of time there. Every hope inside Jessica shriveled up and died. Only Jessica hugged him like that.

He hadn’t wanted me here tonight. She might not be a psychologist and mind reader, but she could tell when he was displeased. Z had let her come only because of Nolan’s plans, but she sure as hell didn’t feel wanted.

Now she knew why—she’d been replaced. The certainty slid into her so insidiously she didn’t notice until pain swamped her senses. Until she couldn’t breathe. Around her the Masters talked, comparing notes on their most disastrous scenes. No one paid attention when she slid back and rose. She needed to get out of here before Z returned—if he did.

Jessica detoured to one side of the room and headed for the exit.

Near the front, she glanced around. Z was on the other side of the bar, his back to her. Even though nothing ever erased his military-straight posture, she saw weariness in his stride. She hesitated. Could she be wrong?

Doubtful.

As she passed the office door, she slowed. Z stored the membership records on the computer, and since she did the accounting, she could pull up any information she wanted. Like a trainee’s address.

Maybe she’d go and chat awhile with the sub. Z might not be willing to talk, but she’d bet Gabrielle would have no such compunctions. Jessica’s fingers were numb as she punched in the code and entered the office. She’d find out how long Z had been seeing her, and maybe then she’d know what to do.

* * *

In her apartment parking lot, Gabi slid out of her car, inhaling the clean, crisp air. The storm had passed, and now palm fronds and debris skittered across the concrete in the light breeze. She shivered as the cool air hit her bare shoulders and legs. Not exactly dressed for the weather, was she? She gave a bitter laugh.

She hadn’t stopped to change or even put on her shoes, just emptied everything from her locker and left. Lingering meant Marcus might notice her absence. Then again, he’d seemed pretty occupied when his real sub had brought his drink. She gave a cynical laugh; he probably wouldn’t think of her until closing time.

She stopped and closed her eyes. No, that wasn’t fair. She’d known few men as responsible as Marcus. He’d eventually have searched for her…and then rounded up a kindly dom for her to play with like he had last night. So she’d saved him all sorts of work by leaving early.

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