Show Me, Baby:A Masters of the Shadowlands Novella(34)

     



 

Her gaze dropped, and her weight shifted on the barstool. "I did. Although, I almost changed my mind and stayed, you know."

Jake watched her as he took a slow sip of beer. "No, I didn't know."

"I was torn." Her hands opened and closed in her lap. "If you'd said you  needed me … if you'd given the slightest hint that losing me would upset  your life, I'd never have been able to leave."

Jake straightened, winded as if she'd kicked him in the gut. "What  fucking hint? I love"-when had the word turned past tense?-"loved you. I  don't understand."

"I know." Gaze on her drink, she traced a finger through the  condensation on the glass. "You know, we all love our family, friends,  even pets. But, a person doesn't need a dog. They're not essential to  happiness. It's not a give-and-take relationship."

"I never treated you like a pet." Jesus.

"No." She huffed in exasperation. "But people who start a life together,  they rely on each other. Lean on each other. Know each other's  weaknesses and worries so they can assist."

"Right. Go on."

"You supported me. But … I never did that for you. I didn't make any difference in your life. You didn't need me."

"Heather-"

"I gave you nothing you couldn't get from a couple of friends and an occasional sex buddy."

Jake straightened. "That's not true."

"I know," she whispered. "I know now. But at the time, that's what I  thought." She laid her hand over his on the bar. "Because you never let  yourself show you're not invulnerable."

He scowled. What the fuck was it with people wanting him to be weak?  "Doms are supposed to be strong. Submissives want someone to lean on."

"I do. I found a Dom," she said. "And he showed me what bothered me  about you and me, Jake. It's that I never felt as if I gave you anything  important. A relationship-even a D/s one-is two people growing stronger  together than they would apart. Not one tree standing alone with  another leaning on it."

Her smile wavered a little. "You know, submissives need to give just as much as Doms need to protect."

Shades of Cullen. Jake's brows drew together. Sipping his beer, he  considered. Gunny had shown him how to dominate, how to flog and whip  and all the various scene techniques. But … maybe, just maybe, his mentor  hadn't demonstrated how to maintain a long-lasting D/s  relationship-because Gunny hadn't known how. He'd had three divorces  under his belt. Jake had figured the women couldn't take the stress of  loving a professional soldier, but perhaps something more fundamental  had been lacking.

Fuck. Jake met Heather's gaze. "I did need you."

"I eventually reached that conclusion." Relief and sorrow showed in her eyes as she rose. "We've both moved on, but … friends?"

He kissed her lightly. "Friends."

As she walked from the bar, Jake watched her, seeing her appeal and  sweetness. In all reality, their relationship might have worked if he'd  been different. But … the bond he had with Rainie contained even more  potential. Was more fulfilling.

When Rainie left, her loss would gut him in a way he'd never experienced before.

"Submissives need to give just as much as Doms need to protect." Did  Rainie find it easy to leave because she didn't believe he needed her?  He closed his eyes.

She was a woman who loved fulfilling the desires of everyone and  everything around her-pets, friends, Doms. And her lover hadn't let her  do anything for him. Fuck, I'm an idiot.

There was more to her moving away though-a compulsion he didn't understand.

But in order to get through to her, he'd have to show her he needed her … and that he'd fight to keep her with him.







On Tuesday, a cold snap had blown off the Gulf, giving a bite to the  moist air. A light breeze rustled the leaves of the maples as Rainie  left her car and joined Jake in front of a popular Irish bar. She  glanced up at him, relieved the strain on his face had faded.

The last few hours had been bad. Actually, they'd had an easy day until  late afternoon when a cop arrived carrying a bloody mess. Saxon and Jake  had done their best to save the animal. According to Ceecee, they'd  tried long after most vets would have given up, but the dog had been too  badly injured.

When Jake had come out of surgery, face set with misery, Rainie's eyes  had filled with tears. He'd started to turn away, then hesitated and  said, "I know after-hours isn't in your job description, but I'm …  Would  you come with me for a drink? For company? I … need you."         

     



 

He needed her. She could do something to help. Despite her sadness, her heart had been lightened.

When they reached the bar, Jake pulled open the door and smiled down at her. "Thanks for taking the time to join me."

She fought back her first response, "I'd go with you anywhere," and offered instead, "You're welcome."

The crowded bar smelled of beer and frying food, with hints of cologne  and perfume. From the corner dedicated to darts came a light thunk, then  high-pitched cheers and groans.

Hand on Rainie's arm, Jake checked for a table.

She waited silently, cherishing even the smallest impersonal touch of his hand, storing memories for a future without him.

Jake ran his knuckles over her cheek. "You know, you're excellent  company, even when quieter than normal." The sun lines at the corners of  his eyes creased. "Maybe because you're quieter than normal."

Jostled out of her melancholy, she stared at him. "You're-you're insulting me? I was kind enough to join you and-"

A roar went up from the crowd watching basketball on the bar television.  Rainie glanced over, noted the scoreboard-Miami Heat in the lead-and  added her own, "Woot! Woot! Woot!" She was totally going to win her  five-dollar bet with Saxon.

"There's a table." Taking her hand, Jake tugged her after him. His grip  was strong. Warm. Familiar. And she wanted to hold on forever.

As he threaded their way through the rough-hewn tables, she smiled at  various acquaintances. To her dismay, Mandy and Jefferson from her high  school sat at one table. Her stomach clenched. Did they have to turn up  everywhere?

It was as if they were walking, talking reasons of why she had to leave the Tampa/St. Pete area.

Then Jake stopped at an empty booth far too close to them. Dammit. She  should have told Jake to pick a different bar. This one was far too  popular with the locals.

Since flinging her arms out and screaming at the heavens, "Just shoot me  now," wouldn't help-no matter how satisfying-she simply took a seat  across from him. At least her back was to the rest of the room.

"What can I get you folks?" A waitress in jeans and a skimpy top appeared.

"Rainie?" Jake prompted.

"A Frozen Mudslide." To Jake's raised eyebrows, she explained, "It's  like getting chocolate, dessert, and alcohol all at once. Good for the  end of a crap day."

When his eyes darkened, she regretted her words. Why had she been stupid enough to remind him of the dog's death?

But his smile reappeared. "Women and their chocolate." He nodded at the barmaid. "Make that two."

"Won't work for you, dude," Rainie said. "You see, the soothing effect  of chocolate is diminished by too much testosterone-and I think you're  at toxic levels."

Jake snorted.

As the giggling barmaid left, Rainie realized something. "You let me order. Without interfering or taking over."

"Ah." He leaned back comfortably, his long legs stretched under the  table, catching Rainie's ankles between them. She tried to move, but his  legs trapped her. And her hormones burst out of the gate like  racehorses when the bell sounded.

"I like being in control for sex, sweetling," he said easily. "However, I don't need to be in charge all the time."

"Unless I try to put mushrooms in your eggs?" Her last morning at his  house, he'd delivered a stinging swat to her ass as well as a lecture on  why fungi were not to be confused with food.

His grin flashed in the dim bar lights. "'Tis most distressing when a subbie tries to poison her Dom."

Her Dom. He never would be again. "Mushrooms or not, making breakfast is not sexual."

"Sure is. Whenever a female is in a man's house, it's all about sex.  Showering is sexual. Meals are sexual." He grinned ruefully. "It's a guy  thing."

"Like I said, toxic amounts of testosterone." No joke. Every moment in  his house had been infused with anticipation of being ravaged on the  couch or fucked on a counter … and she'd loved it.

To Rainie's relief, the barmaid interrupted the conversation to drop off their drinks.

Jake eyed his suspiciously. After a drink, he swirled the glass and drank again. "Good stuff."

Rainie smiled. "Thanks." She took a sip, closed her eyes, and moaned  appreciation for the sublime combination of chocolate ice cream,  Baileys, and Kahlua.