Independence: #2 Angel (7 page)

“I…” Color filled her cheeks.

“And no, there are no secrets between a dom and his sub. I have to have information so I know where and when to take you along the right course,” Colin took the bottle from her and aimed it into one of the recycle bins. Then he covered the links between her hands with one of his palms, leading her along the wide corridor. “I think we need to tour more of the floor.”

“Why without clothing?” She asked and realized it was just a little on the sharp side. “Sir.”

“That doesn’t help cushion the attitude, Angelica. As for the clothing, now you appear more like you should, submissive.” He grinned at her. “At least in attire.”

That didn’t help the attitude, she thought, glancing around at people as they walked through the various scenes. Even some of the dom’s clothing was far less than street legal, she noticed, her gaze on people being led around with chains and collars.

“It’s like…like a pet show,” she murmured to herself. “Is that…is that how you see subs? As pets?” Her feet dragged slightly, unsure how she was feeling at the moment with her observation.

“I do not consider you my poodle or Siamese cat, if that’s what you’re asking. The terminology used in Dom/sub relationships is as specialized as any other sub-culture, Angelica. Even in personal relationships without the flavor of play, you have terms of endearment that evolve,” Colin kept her close, watching what they talked about and how it was received by her. “If you notice the people around you, without the clothing, you blend in more.”

“And your excuse?” She bit her lip when she realized the words came out. “The monitors…”

“Everyone has their own style. You’ll even see a dom or two in a suit,” Colin shrugged. “Subs always have far less attire that their doms. That’s just the way things are.” He led her past a domme, erotically teasing her male sub tied into a web; past the twins being disciplined by twin males over a pair of spanking benches and toward the far end of the club. He led her to a wide leather covered table and lifted her to sit on the edge.

Colin kept himself from reacting when she yelped and tried to slide back off the cooler leather. His hands were on her waist, refusing her the movement.

“Eyes on the floor, sub,” he ordered briskly, her compliance instant and her hands suddenly slack in his grip. “If you continue to scowl at your dom, you will be disciplined. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You said you understood what you were getting involved with, Angelica. If I wanted you naked, you’d be walking beside me without a stitch. I’d have you in a collar with my initials on it and these, and nothing more,” he held up her hands, making sure she saw the initials on the edge of the cuffs. “Do you understand that you’re giving up your control over everything while you’re here in the club?”

“Yes, Sir,” she answered, the slightest shake in her voice. “I understand.”

“And you want to continue?”

“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry. I’m not…I’m not stupid. I can learn this,” she said quietly.

“Angel,” his tone was uncompromising but gentle. “I never believed for a moment you were stupid. Stubborn, yes. You’ll have to get used to me asking questions so I can understand and get us past that.”

“I’m not used to sharing that information. I think mostly because I want to pretend it isn’t there, but they won’t let me.”

“What happened after you were raped?” He didn’t mince words and wouldn’t allow her to, either. When her eyes flew to his, color flooded her cheeks and he put his hands around her face, refusing to allow her to look away. “They can color it however they want, Angel. You were a child and should have been protected. Did you tell anyone?”

“I answered this question before,” she stared past his shoulders. “They forced him into a marriage but we lived apart. When I…when I fell…they annulled the marriage and I went to live with my mother’s parents who sent me off to school. People leave you alone as long as your grades are good.”

“You never spoke to a counselor? Someone to help you…” Colin stopped when she focused on him intently.

“The choice is yours now, Sir. You know all the bad history in my life. You believe I’m smart enough to learn. I don’t know what to believe but I’m supposed to trust you and your opinions,” Angel glanced toward a younger couple coming to the scene space on the other side of them. “You aren’t a psychiatrist, Sir. This is a sex club, not therapy.”

“And you believe you’re beyond help?” He felt the corner of his mouth lift.

“I don’t believe I need help. I came here to explore and see what else existed. I’ve had sex before…after I was pregnant. In college…” she looked down at her bare feet swinging for a long few seconds before gazing up at him again.

“Was it any good?”

One shoulder rose and fell. “He had a good time.” She held up her wrists. “These don’t belong to the club, do they, Sir?”

“No, they don’t. They are mine to give to a sub I want to be with and train,” he studied her closely, the determination in her eyes one of the things that had drawn him to her. He had more questions but decided they would have to wait. “Remain here, Angel. I’ll be a few minutes. Perhaps you might review the protocols I’ve given you.”

“Yes, Sir,” Angel sat up stiffly, her hands on her thighs, palms up. She stared straight ahead, the sight of him walking off to the side in her mind as she closed her eyes, letting the ambiance and events of the day flow through her mind.

She thought she was doing quite well until the words began filtering to her from the next scene.

“Nothing but a school girl slut. A whore who’ll let anyone fuck her for the right price…do the boys like touching you?”

Her head turned, her breathing slowed and the ache in her chest seemed to worsen when she opened her eyes and turned to look at the couple.

Just a game, she tried telling herself as the man’s words became more and more clear. More and more graphic.

Her fingers trembled, shaking as she quickly worked the buckles on the cuffs. She left them lying on the table, her body moving stealthily among the people, past the scenes to the room where her clothing had been left. She found the bin with his name on it, but Angel didn’t remember dressing.

She kept hearing the words, over and over again.

Keys shook in her fingers, the heat inside her making it very warm as she crossed to where she left her car. She refused to look back and it took several hours before she had the shaking under control.

Colin stared at the empty table in shock, Jack at his side.

“I didn’t see her leave,” Jack said simply.

“She’s too damn stubborn to have just run,” Colin looked around, his attention on the role playing being performed in the space a few feet from them. When the man turned to make switching his partner easier, Colin swore loudly. He was dressed as a reverend. His partner as a wicked school-girl. “I know what happened.”

Jack followed his eyes. “Your little sub has issues with the clergy?”

“Her father is Joseph Morehouse,” Colin saw the dawning understanding on Jack’s face. The reverend was in the news on a regular basis with his claims of salvation and the trials of being the father of a daughter like Angelica. Usually stoic and capable of maintaining a straight face through most anything, Colin could see the fury in the ice chips of blue.

“He’s quite vocal about the demons possessing his only daughter,” Jack said in quiet disgust. “What are you going to do?”

“Make sure she got home safe,” he strode toward the door and out. He crossed the parking lot and tossed the bag he carried into the back of his car and hoped he never ran into her father.

Chapter Six

He waited a week.

He held some hope that she would come to the club looking for him. Part of him wondered if he should have taken that as a sign and walked away. He wasn’t sure what word to assign to his unwillingness to quit on her. He knew he could easily visit any number of clubs and find subs trained and willing for his hand and his cock.

But they wouldn’t be Angel. Somewhere deep in those big, dark eyes he saw himself as a child, hiding from authorities until someone took a chance on him and taught him that all humans, all feelings, weren’t bad.

Colin stood outside the large café-bakery and just watched, letting the winds of late November whip the long coat he wore around his legs and ignoring it. She’d put a large atrium type attachment onto the side of the bakery with comfortable chairs and tables that held no rhyme or reason to style. It looked more like your grandmothers kitchen from corner to corner. Each one had a different cloth; the chairs were sturdy and almost rustic looking, but none of them matched. She’d put together a comfortable, quaint looking country kitchen where people smiled and talked and relaxed. Some had books, some had computers and still others had kids and a combination.

One corner held a collection of thin, colorful books on shelves with small chairs and a box of toys. But what was holding him captive was watching Angelica in the center of that corner with three little kids climbing and wrestling with her.

That was when he realized that he hadn’t seen her smile or heard her laugh during the time they were together. He went inside and ordered a large coffee, listening to the deep, happy sound peppered with girl giggles that made him smile. He stood in the doorway, sipping the rich blend of coffee and watching her. He didn’t have an explanation for himself why her; why this woman. And he’d spent most of Sunday running the beach trying to answer that question because he knew she’d ask.

Maybe it was the fire that occasionally flared to life in her eyes or the high cheekbones and worry she’d worn on the day Bailey came home from the hospital. How she’d pushed aside the unconscious need to shove people away and stayed with her friend. Maybe it was her innocence and interest and courage and all the things she couldn’t see about herself.

But then he listened to the soft laughter and caught a glimpse of the smile filling her eyes when she thought no one was looking. That’s when he knew it really didn’t matter why. He just knew he’d find a way to bring her into his world, into a life of affection and people.

Angel shoved hair out of her eyes and finally got them seated in the small chairs, laughing happily when all three of them launched themselves at her at once. It was one of their regular games. See if they could wrestle her to the ground and they got a free cookie. It helped that their mother was one of her friends and she’d known the three since they were born two and a half years earlier.

“Angel, you know you never win at that,” Carlie laughed from behind her cup of coffee.

“I always win,” she laughed back. “I get tons of hugs and they get little cookies. It’s a great exchange…but I swear I’m getting old,” she scooped two of them into her arms and let the third cling to her calf, holding on for dear life as she managed to climb to her feet.

He knew the instant she saw him; watched the protective shield slammed into place. He offered a slightly tipped head and a patient smile.

“Carlie…I…uh…I’ll go get the cookies for them,” she told her friend softly, handing the little girls over and tossing the boy into the air with a burst of giggles from him before she surrendered him to his mother.

“Angel?” Carlie took her children, carefully buckling them into the seats and handing them the toys she’d brought with her to entertain them while they nibbled on cereal and sipped their milk. “Hun…what’s wrong?” An instant surge of a protective gene took control, her shoulders back and head turning to see what her friend was staring at.

“Nothing. Nothing, at all,” she lied, digging deep and putting a smile on.

“Angel, who is he? You look a little pale.”

“He’s a friend. It’s alright,” she promised and went toward her kitchen where she had the special cookies waiting.

“That looked like fun,” Colin said quietly. “I was worried about you, Angelica.”

“I’m sorry…” she looked around quickly to see who was close enough to hear.

“Colin,” he prompted gently. “We’re not at the club. I’m just Colin,” he waited while she processed that and nodded. “And I’m the one who should apologize. I shouldn’t have left you like that without knowing the role-play that was going on in the next station. I’m sorry.”

“It isn’t your fault,” she said quickly, brushing past him and continuing on to the kitchen. Her eyes skirted the large room and the counter. Her staff was well trained and knew she played with the kids on Saturdays whenever she could. It was barely past eight in the morning so the weekend rush crowd hadn’t really struck yet, although the holiday shopping crowd was bigger than usual. Getting their second wind through caffeinated beverages, she thought with an absent smile.

Angel should have known he wasn’t the type to adhere to boundaries and almost jumped out of her apron when she turned around to see him right behind her. She devoted a few seconds to the idea of telling him he really shouldn’t be in her kitchen, but gave it up at the memory of him in the club. She found the small tray she wanted and went to Daria. She was a petite eighteen year old who loved books as much as she did and was always on time. She handed her the tray and sent her to Carlie with a smile.

“You shouldn’t be back here,” Angel quickly checked the ovens and then the various timers, her hands twisting in the colorful apron she wore.

“Why not?” Colin put one hand into the pocket of his coat, fingering the narrow box inside. “I looked for you last night at the club.”

She stared at him in surprise. “I didn’t think you’d want me back. I…disobeyed and left…”

“Leaving and disobeying didn’t upset me as much as worry me, Angel. I’d rather you hunted me down and told me the problem, but we’re still working on things,” Colin told her quietly. “I brought you something. I’d like you to wear it tonight when you come to the club.”

“I don’t think it would be good for me to go back. It wasn’t one of my brighter ideas,” she told him, keeping her gaze on the cookies she was arranging in the container to go into the display case. “I have a tendency to make people angry and I wouldn’t wish that on you. You should find yourself a nice girl without issues and…and…a semi-sane family and the ability to…”