Show Me, Baby:A Masters of the Shadowlands Novella(33)

The plate and pie he was playing with disappeared, and he looked up with a scowl.

Sax gave him a smile. He forked up a big bite of the half-smashed pie  and popped it in his mouth. "Sorry, bro, but if you're not going to  enjoy something tasty, you're going to lose it."





Chapter Twelve



Late the next night in a restaurant's private dining room, Jake sat back  in his chair and listened to the other Masters and Mistresses talking.  The various conversations were drawing to a close. The monthly  Shadowlands M&M dinner was almost over.

As the waitress set a beer in front of him, Jake smiled at her. "Thank you."

She gave him a timid nod. Poor woman. While taking their orders, she'd  actually been shaking. But Z had eased her fears, Cullen had teased her,  Marcus had paid her one of his silver-tongued compliments. Even Nolan  had found a smile for her.

She'd relaxed slightly … probably as much as possible when faced with all  the firepower of the Shadowlands, let alone the conversational material.  The argument they'd had about blood-play would disturb anyone but a  sadist.

"Any more concerns?" Z asked from the head of the table.

"A small one." Anne turned to Jake. "I heard Rainie is moving?"

He nodded.

"So we're down to two trainees?"

"Less," Jake said. "Tanner told me he's joining the Colton household. Only Uzuri is left."

"That's a shame about Rainie." Marcus frowned. His face was deeply  tanned from his honeymoon. As he gestured, the wide gold band on his  hand flashed in the dimly lit room. Gabi had told Jake she'd picked a  ring so "ginormous," every woman in Florida would see he was taken. "I'm  going to miss the girl, and so will Gabi."

And so will I. The Shadowlands wouldn't be the same. Rainie had added a  special flash of brightness and color to the club. And to his life.

He caught Z's gaze on him and stiffened. Much as he respected the owner of the Shadowlands, Jake didn't need his counseling.

"In that case, meeting adjourned." Z got to his feet.

Jake rose with the others and after the general round of farewells, he  took his beer to the bar to finish. Wasn't as if anyone waited at home  for him-except for a small dog and two cats. Pitiful, Sheffield. After  all, his "black book"-the cell phone's contact list-was filled with  numbers to call if he wanted female companionship.

He didn't.

"Hey, buddy, you're still here?" Cullen's voice boomed over the noise of  the television and nearby conversations. He slid onto a barstool beside  Jake. Probably a month or so past due for a haircut, he had to brush  his brown hair out of his eyes.

His dark red, button-up shirt fit him well-except for some rather  suspicious bulkiness under the left sleeve. Gauze bandages, perhaps?  Cullen was an arson investigator-not the safest of career choices.

Jake nodded at Cullen's arm. "What got you?"

"Falling beam. Got a bit scorched before I knocked it aside." Cullen  caught the bartender's attention and pointed to the Guinness on tap.  "Beer's a hell of a lot easier-and tastier-to swallow than pain pills."

Jake studied him. Cullen was probably well over two hundred pounds, but  that wasn't his first beer. "How about I drive you home when you're done  self-medicating?"

Cullen drank past the foam to the dark brown liquid and heaved a pleased  sigh. "No need. Andrea's out with friends. When I told her I wanted to  overindulge, she volunteered to pick me up."

"Good enough." Jake turned his attention back to his beer.

Cullen grinned. "Does this make me less of a man then? To ask my submissive for help?"

Hell. Gunny would have said yes-that a Dom should manage his own  problems. Jake rolled his beer bottle between his palms. He wasn't sure  he agreed; Cullen was one of the strongest Doms he knew.

Cullen's mouth tipped up when Jake didn't answer. "Who told you a Dom couldn't show weakness?"

"Professor in grad school. A Marine Gunnery Sergeant who served in about  every war zone since Moses and had so many medals he could've used them  for weight lifting." Jake frowned, remembering his first sight of the  battle-hardened vet. Jake had been maybe twenty-one? Young enough to  hang on the Dom's every word. "He introduced me to the lifestyle.  Mentored me."

Gunny'd missed the camaraderie of the Marines. Missed having younger men  to supervise. Upon discovering Jake's interest in BDSM …  Jake grinned  and shook his head. In hindsight, he realized Gunny'd been delighted to  find someone like Jake to train.         

     



 

"Got it." Cullen drank half his beer, and then leaned an arm on the bar  top. "Not a surprising stance considering the Marine mentality. However,  I disagree. Much as we Dominants hate to admit it, we're human. You can  pull off that infallible, invulnerable shit if the submissive only  scenes with you occasionally, but the façade will fall apart in a  relationship."

Jake stiffened. "You're saying being strong is a pretense?"

"Sometimes. We are strong. We also get hurt and need help." Cullen  glanced at his burned arm. "Last I looked, even Doms lose loved ones or  jobs or pets. We need to mourn. We get depressed." He smiled. "Some of  the best sex of my life was the night Andrea bratted me out of a black  hole. I needed her, and she knew it."

Jake scowled. "I don't-"

"Giving is a two-way street, buddy. Don't deny your submissive the pleasure of being able to help you. Of knowing she's needed."

The pleasure of helping. His mentor had denied anyone that satisfaction,  hadn't he? "I'm fine, Sheffield. Don't need help." Gunny's color had  been gray, his age finally showing after his most recent heart attack.  He'd been crippled up. Jake had wanted so fucking badly to assist-and  been refused.

Was it strength that'd kept the old Marine from accepting any support … or a kind of weakness?

"There he is. And Jake too." Andrea's slightly accented voice drifted across the bar.

Jake glanced over his shoulder, relieved at the rescue. Fuck. Seemed  like his life since meeting Rainie had been a mess of confusion.

"Jake, it's good to see you." Andrea smiled at him, then her Dom. "Sir."

Cullen pulled her between his long legs. "Jake just reminded me you're the best thing in my life."

"Jake is right." Andrea's smile softened into pure beauty. "I love you, mi Señor."

"I love you, too. Marry me, little tiger. We-" Cullen swore under his  breath and released her. "Sorry. I've had too much to drink."

"Sí. I will." Andrea's answer was swift and sharp. "Marry you."

Cullen's hands clamped onto her arms so hard she squeaked. "Sorry, love, but … you'll marry me?"

Her eyes gleamed with tears, but her smile would rival sunlight. "Sí."

"Fuck," Cullen muttered. "You said yes-you really did." His craggy face  split in a huge grin as he pointed at Jake. "You're my witness."

"Got it covered."

"No escape for you now, love." Cullen pulled his captive closer.

Grinning and trying to give the two some privacy, Jake spun on the  barstool-and came face-to-face with Heather. "Hey." She'd cut her hair,  he realized, and the brown strands curled around her face. "I didn't  realize you were in town."

"It's good to see you, Jake." She took the hand he held out and kissed  his cheek. Her scent was still lightly floral, her lips soft. "I was at a  convention in Orlando and popped over to visit friends here."

Of course, the Shadowlands submissives would be part of her gang of buddies.

"We arranged for me to drop Andrea off so she can chauffeur Cullen home  in his truck." Her smile brightened. "And probably celebrate their  engagement."

"Probably," he agreed, hearing the sounds of someone being thoroughly kissed behind him.

When a person at the bar muttered sourly, "Get a room," Cullen laughed.  With Andrea tucked against his side, he kissed Heather's cheek, slapped  Jake's shoulder, and was out of the restaurant in seconds.

"Well." Heather stared after them. "I didn't even say congratulations."

"I don't think they noticed." Jake took a drink of his beer. He was  happy for Cullen, no question about that, but felt pretty damned sorry  for himself. How pitiful was that?

But the woman he wanted had dumped him in favor of her career. And here  was Heather, who'd done the same. Fuck, he needed to reevaluate his  handling of relationships.

He motioned to the bartender. "What can I get you, Heather?"

She hesitated before sliding onto the barstool Cullen had vacated. "Just  a diet soda," she told the bartender before asking Jake, "How is the  clinic doing?"

"Busy." If they could have kept Rainie, they'd have expanded. "How's your job?"

"Wonderful." Her smile was still sweet. "I've been promoted."

"Good for you. I'm sure you earned it." She would have. As a submissive,  she'd always given a hundred percent. He couldn't imagine she offered  less to her career. "You look happy. Apparently, you made the right  decision."