INV 2 - An Invitation, Ariel's Pet Page 5

  Dane was sure Ariel didn't realize her expression was a mixture of disappointment and envy. He knew she would heatedly deny any desire to be in her sister's place, to experience the training Alayna was undergoing, but her gaze and the tone of her voice betrayed her curiosity about it all. Or perhaps his increased interest in controlling her was coloring his analysis. “What has you so angry, Ariel? That your sister asked me for help to navigate a new world? Or that she's doing something for herself for the first time in ten years but didn't include you?”

  She blanched at the observation, and Dane cursed his impulsive comment. Retracting it would be useless; he watched the cool mask Ariel consistently adopted around him slip into place. It reflected her refusal to listen to reason. At least from him. This only seemed to exacerbate the fact that his ability to maintain a professional attitude toward Ariel was a facade.

  One that crumbled easily when she pushed him.

  “You have some sauce on your face.” She pointed toward his chin.

  He reached up to wipe away the gooey spread, wary of the keen look she gave him. It made him wonder what form of retribution she might concoct.

  His suspicions grew when she stepped in close and gripped the tie he'd loosened earlier.

  “You may have my sister thinking you're needed here, Master Reese”—she tugged his face closer to hers—“but we both know it isn't true.”

  Taking her time, she smoothed the tip of her tongue along his chin and licked away the smear of sauce before swiping upward to his cheek.

  The damp track of her mouth removed any of the spread. “Be careful who you try to push.

  I'm not Al. And I have no intention of ever calling you my master.”

  And that's where his problem lay, Dane admitted as he watched Ariel scoop up one of the covered containers on the prep station and carry it to the walk-in cooler. In that moment he realized those were the words he wanted to hear. My master. His imagination readily conjured images of Ariel kneeling before him, her bright green eyes ablaze with desire, her naked body dewed with sweat as she trembled at the cusp of orgasm, requiring only his touch, his words, to slip over the edge.

  * * *

  Long after he'd left the café and returned to the mansion where he and Logan educated clients in the D/s lifestyle, Dane settled onto a seat at the table tucked away in the breakfast nook of the quiet kitchen. Steam rose from the chicken and mashed potatoes with gravy on his plate.

  Late-night snacks wouldn't solve his problems with Ariel.

  “You're up late, Master Dane.” The housekeeper who lived at the mansion, Shendah, paused on the threshold of the kitchen. The robe she wore covered her from her neck to the soft, fuzzy slippers on her feet.

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  Qwillia Rain

  “I hope I didn't wake you,” he said. Strain showed on her face; her shoulders were stiff with tension. Dane assumed a nightmare from her childhood had wakened the twenty-eight-year-old, not his scavenging for leftovers in the fridge and using the microwave.

  “No, sir.” She crossed to the stove and set the kettle on to heat.

  “Couldn't sleep?”

  She didn't admit anything but Dane could see the answer in her tired eyes. “We've missed you these last few days.” From the cabinet, she collected a coffee mug and a tin of tea.

  Dane laughed softly. “I doubt that, Shen.” He ate a few bites of chicken and a scoop of potatoes.

  Shendah smiled. “I'm sure if Master Logan were more himself, he would.”

  “More himself?” He ate slowly, waiting for her explanation.

  “I don't wish to carry tales.” Shendah prepared her tea and moved to take the chair opposite him.

  “Please explain how Logan isn't himself, Shendah.” If he made it an order, he would alleviate any unease she might feel about revealing information about his business partner. She'd acted as housekeeper and cook for A Master's Gift for nearly twelve years. Logan and he considered her family, and she often said she felt the same.

  “He seems preoccupied with the training of the new submissive, Alayna.”

  “How so?”

  Shendah shrugged. “He's ordered that I keep fresh flowers in her room—something he hasn't done for other guests. Although he occupies Room Four upstairs, the one Alayna was supposed to use, he doesn't sleep in the bed.”

  That was news. Dane had a suspicion where Logan slept at night, but he wanted to confirm it. “Where is he sleeping?”

  “In his bedroom. With Alayna.”

  “In the bed?” Damn, maybe my plan is working better than I thought. His satisfaction was short-lived as Shendah shook her head.

  “No, I believe he is sleeping in one of the armchairs beside the bed.”

  “And you know this how?” He finished the last of his meal and took a sip of the milk he'd poured.

  “Indentations in the cushions, the way he rubs at his neck when he thinks others aren't watching, the position of the chair when I go in to clean each day.” Shendah shrugged. “He watches Alayna as if she is a beloved treasure, but when she tries to make conversation, Logan treats her like a pariah.”

  Dane fought the urge to curse. Keegan McAvoy, one of the mansion's residents and his and Logan's part-time chauffeur, had told him Logan had overridden Dane's directive and moved Alayna into Logan's bedroom when she arrived. It seemed his best friend was proving as stubborn as always. Determined to control his environment without admitting to his attraction to the elder Valerian sister. “And Alayna? Do you think she's aware of his nightly visits?”

  Perhaps…

  Shendah shook her head and took a sip of her tea. “Not consciously. She seems aware something is happening, but Logan's actions toward her appear to have her confused.”

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  The smile she gave him next was a familiar one and pulled a groan from Dane. Now it was Shendah's turn to ask questions, and there would be no avoiding answering. “Alayna has asked about how you are doing at the café.”

  Dane nodded before rising to carry his dishes to the kitchen sink. When she reached out to take them from him, he motioned her back to her seat. “I can take care of these, Shen. I'm not useless.”

  Before he turned away, he noticed her eyebrows rise and fall in a quick look of surprise.

  “You sound as if someone has questioned your abilities. Is there trouble with Alayna's sister?”

  After he rinsed his plate, Dane braced his hands on the counter and then grimaced.

  “Nothing I can't handle.”

  Shendah watched him, her curiosity apparent in her expression, but years of training as a submissive enabled her to control her inquisitiveness. She only asked, “And how do you want to handle her?”

  Visions of how Ariel ended their conversation in the kitchen earlier made Dane nod. “She would make an interesting challenge.”

  “Challenge?”

  “Ariel is a woman of strong opinions.”

  Shendah looked at him, her eyes assessing. “You want her.” It wasn't a question.

  “If I weren't concerned she'd cut my balls off and feed them to me in a special marinade, I'd lay her out on one of her countertops and fuck her until the only orders she could give were

  'harder' and 'faster,'” Dane admitted with a grin.

  Shendah's soft laughter filled the quiet room. “You look like you'd actually enjoy it.”

  Dane smiled. “If you mean the fucking, damn right I would.”

  Shendah laughed again and shook her head. “No, the castration. You actually sounded as if the idea appeals to you.”

  Dane dipped his head in acknowledgment of her amusement. “You haven't tasted my pixie's special marinades, Shen. I'd probably be first in line for seconds.” Then he changed the subject, despite the thoughts rebounding off one another in his mind. “Do you think you can sleep now?”

  She didn't protest the abrupt closure of subject. She swallowed the last of her tea before she rose from her chair and cros
sed to the sink. “Yes.”

  He took the cup from her, careful not to make contact with her hands or fingers, rinsed it, and then settled it onto the rack in the dishwasher.

  “Good night, Master Dane.”

  “Sleep well, Shendah.”

  Dane watched her leave the kitchen before he turned off the light and returned to his place at the table. Clouds scuttled across the moon, and its glow dimmed as it bathed the estate's acreage. As much as he trusted Shendah, he wasn't about to discuss the situation at the café in detail with her. A flash of light drew his gaze toward the neatly trimmed hedge bordering the vast, well-manicured lawn of the backyard. Another, then another, and his lips lifted in a grin.

  Fireflies. Capricious insects that teased and taunted with their shine.

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  Qwillia Rain

  Like Ariel. Calm and predictable one minute; waspish and snippy, the next. Dane doubted he'd ever figure her out.

  And the need to understand what motivated her, what made her tick, continued to grow.

  Five days of harassment by the little termagant should have had him ready to avoid the café, but something in her very defiance taunted the dominant in him.

  Despite her prickly nature and almost rabid determination to hate him, Dane sensed there was a fire within Ariel. Similar to the one smoldering in her sister, Ariel's sensual appreciation, her enjoyment in savoring the flavors in the sandwich he'd made, identified an untapped sexuality waiting to be explored.

  The spanking he'd given her a few days ago hadn't fazed her. Proximity only brought her hackles up. It would be interesting to see how she'd respond to a full-on battle. His gaze unfocused, Dane no longer saw the twinkling lights of the fireflies beyond the glass door. Instead his body responded to imagined moments. Ariel held close, the ripe curves of her body against his. Writhing and twisting to be free. At least at the start.

  Once he stripped away the white chef's jacket, black slacks, and black shoes, he was sure he'd find naked ivory flesh. Pussy damp with the arousal he was sure he'd caught fleeting whiffs of throughout the day. Her nipples would be tight pink crowns for her full, round breasts.

  He shifted in the chair, enraptured by the fantasy as it unfolded in his mind. The thick length of his erection pressed against the faded denim of his jeans. His eyelids drifted down, closed on the image of bearing Ariel to the floor of the café's kitchen, her legs open, hands clutching at him, fingers scoring his back as he thrust inside her. Fucking her hard and deep, just as he'd described to Shendah.

  A low rumble that closely resembled a purr rolled from his throat, and he opened his eyes.

  His hand dropped to his lap and cupped the thick erection throbbing there, while his gaze slowly focused once again on the flickering lights of the insects in the yard.

  With a woman as wicked as that, one who understood the sensuality of food and methods to stimulate the senses… If he had a woman like Ariel under his command, Dane wondered if the boredom and ennui that usually crept into all his relationships would be eliminated. To be certain, he'd never know exactly what she was thinking.

  And he'd never have to wonder if she was pissed off at him. The sassy pixie would be more than ready to get right in his face to voice her displeasure.

  An Invitation: Ariel's Pet

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  Chapter Three

  Day 6

  Ariel had come to terms with Dane's presence by the end of the first week. But she still didn't like it. She continued to hope the bastard would go away and her sister would return, but she was certain Alayna would be gone the rest of the month. At least the café would be closed the next day, and she wouldn't have to deal with Dane hovering in the background.

  It didn't mean, though, that she would roll over and let Dane do as he chose. Saturday afternoon, Ariel stood toe-to-toe with Dane beside the desk and refused to give an inch. “I don't care how much you think you know about our ordering system, Dane. I'm telling you what you should do.”

  “And I explained that Alayna gave me explicit instructions in regard to the suppliers the café uses,” Dane responded coolly.

  His lack of heat only irritated Ariel more. “Do you always have to be so damned in control?” she demanded.

  Dane shifted his arms so they crossed over his chest. The green polo shirt he wore emphasized the bulge of his biceps and the corded muscles of his abdomen. “A master learns to stay in charge of his emotions to better provide protection and guidance for his submissive.”

  Ariel gritted her teeth, her belly jumped at the words, and the tingling sensation at her core ratcheted up. The man was dangerous, and hearing his philosophy as it related to his sexual interests only turned her on more; she fought long and hard to keep from betraying that to him.

  “Gag me, Reese.” She rolled her eyes and copied his crossed-arm stance, the papers in her hands crumpled in her grip. “I couldn't care less about your sex life or the lessons you and your business partner are trying to teach my sister. What I'm talking about now is your stubborn, pigheaded refusal to listen to my instructions about whom to order from.”

  The grin flashed his white teeth and set a twinkle off in his sapphire-colored eyes. “I could say the same about you, Ariel.” Leaning down the full foot that separated their heights, he nearly bumped noses with her. “When are you going to figure out that I don't take orders from you?

  Your sister put me in charge, and I'll take care of things. Just the way she asked me to.” He paused, then added, “As for gagging you, I have a sweet little ball gag that would perfectly match your hair if you're interested in trying it out.”

  The step back she took wasn't a retreat so much as a reestablishment of personal boundaries. At least that was the excuse Ariel tried to give herself. The craving building in her pussy, the increased dampness of her panties, and the painful tightness of her nipples were merely side effects of her frustration at his opposition. And maybe the images of what he'd do to her if she were to take him up on his challenge to try out the ball gag.

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  Qwillia Rain

  She drowned her attraction with an indignant snarl. “Listen, you—”

  “Uh, Ari?”

  DeeDee's choked-off laughter had both Ariel and Dane turning toward the door.

  “Yeah?” Ariel snapped.

  “I wanted to let you know that Sadie and I are leaving.” The strap of her purse was over her shoulder, and she tipped her head toward the front of the café.

  “All the tables taken care of?”

  DeeDee nodded. “Yes. We refilled all the condiments and shakers as usual.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Oh, and Grimm is at the back door.”

  Ariel glanced at her watch. “Is it that late already?” Not waiting for a response, she tossed the papers she'd clenched in her hand onto the desk and headed for the door. After she squeezed past DeeDee, Ariel hurried up the hall, with the younger woman walking fast to keep up.

  “Yeah, we didn't want to disturb you guys.” DeeDee grinned. “But Grimm was a little antsy, and I figured you'd rather I interrupt than he go off empty-handed.”

  “Thanks, Dee.” Ariel patted her shoulder, passed her, rounded the pastry case, and scooted around the tables with their upended chairs on top. “I'll see you guys Monday.” She waved at Sadie where she waited in the main area of the eatery.

  Both waitresses said their farewells and made sure the CLOSED sign was in place as they headed out the front door. Torn between locking up and getting to the back door before Grimm left, Ariel hesitated near the cash register at the end of the counter. When she heard Dane following her out of the office, she didn't hesitate to rope him into service. A glance over her shoulder confirmed he was there. She pointed to the front of the café. “Can you make sure we're all locked up?”

  She didn't wait for an answer; instead she pushed through the swinging doors that led into the kitchen. She wasn't about to admit she was running from Dane instead of hurrying to get to Grimm. At least not
out loud. Or to Dane.

  Ariel passed the racks with the foil and plastic carryout containers, headed for the back door, and swung it open. “Grimm, you don't have to wait out here.” She told him that every time he came by the shop to collect the leftover bakery items and perishables he gave to the men living at his halfway house and some of the homeless camped outside Ayerstown. In ten years, she'd yet to convince the man to take a seat inside her kitchen, unless she or Alayna was with him.

  “Hey, Miss Ariel.” Grimm's deep voice was soft, but it resonated in the dim shadows of the alley.

  As he rose from the piled crates beside the door, Ariel grinned at how similar to his voice the big man was. He easily topped Dane's height by two or three inches. The breadth of his shoulders and the size of his muscles would make a world-class bodybuilder appear puny beside him. If his size didn't intimidate others, the deep ebony skin, bald head, and gold hoop in his left ear often sent people scrambling to cross the street.

  But not Ariel or her sister. He'd played with them when they were little and he was a teenager. She knew how gentle he really was. Holding the door open, she smiled. “Come on in.

  Have you had anything to eat yet?”

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  29

  “You don't have to feed me. I'm doin' just fine.” Grimm turned sideways to get through the doorway. He reached over Ariel's head to ease the door shut.

  “It's no trouble, Grimm. The usual?” she offered, walking to the central island and pulling bread from one cabinet. While Grimm settled onto one of the high stools she kept tucked near the prep station, Ariel crossed to the double-door, walk-in refrigerator and stepped inside to retrieve sandwich meats and other fixings.

  As she returned and stepped past him, Ariel wrapped her arm around Grimm's waist and squeezed. “You been takin' care of yourself?”

  Grimm's beefy arm settled around her shoulders and returned her hug.

  Dane wasn't about to let Ariel walk away from their argument. It was necessary that he keep reestablishing his control in the office in order to avoid Ariel's resuming her attempts to take over and drive him off.