The Men With the Golden Cuffs(20)

She was caught between relief and a dangerous joy. She believed them. They really didn’t care. In fact, Jake seemed to be involved in the lifestyle. She didn’t know many men outside the lifestyle who would use the term leathers when talking about a pair of pants. The thought of Jacob Dean in a pair of leathers, his cut chest on display as he nodded to the floor, silently requesting that she kneel at his feet, made her heart pound. About a million questions popped into her brain, but she forced herself to keep to the questions asked. “The man who’s doing this seems to be familiar with my books. Like I said earlier, I thought it was a woman because this person seemed to take issue with some of my plot choices, but now I think it’s a man. I don’t think he likes my books very much. At first I thought he was your run-of-the-mill creep trolling the internet, but lately he’s gotten uglier. He left me a text today.”

“On your cell?” Adam asked. “Where is it?”

“My phone is on the bar in the kitchen,” she said. The minute the words were out of her mouth, Adam took off.

She was alone with Jake.

“Now, who is this Master Storm?” The question came out on a low, ungodly sexy growl. “Is he your Dom? What the hell is he doing somewhere else when you’re in trouble?”

“He’s not my Dom. He’s someone I talk to. I needed to do a little research. We’ve been kind of feeling each other out to see if he wouldn’t mind training me.”

One of the reasons she liked Master Storm was her utter lack of attraction to the man. She wasn’t in danger of falling in love with him. If she was honest with herself, Master Storm was a bit of a puffed-up douche bag, but he did know D/s. She was looking for practical knowledge, not a man who made her heart pound in her chest—even when he wasn’t sneaking up on her.

“I don’t know this man. Where did you meet him? On the internet?”

“I’m not stupid. I met him at a munch. I found a flyer on a fetish lifestyle site, and it invited interested parties to come to a brunch at a local restaurant. First names only. I met Master Storm about two months ago. We’ve been talking on the phone about his philosophies.”

“Have you been talking about what you need?” He was in her space, his big body taking up all the room. She wasn’t even sure how he’d gotten so close. He was tall, at least six foot three, and he seemed to tower over her. His voice was still deep, but it had lost a bit of command.

It was hard to think when he was so close. She could practically feel the heat of his body. “Uhm, we haven’t really gotten around to that. He thinks we should talk about his rules first to see if I can follow them.”

“Drop him. He’s not a Dom. He’s a man who likes control but not responsibility. He’s testing you to see if you’re right for him, but he isn’t thinking about what’s right for you. That should be his first and only qualification. A Dom should find what he needs, too, but what every good Dom needs is to do right by his submissive. If he hasn’t even asked what you need, he’s wrong for you.” His eyes became hooded, and his gaze slid to the floor as though he didn’t really want to look her in the eye. “You should talk to Ian Taggart. He owns Sanctum. He makes it his business to match well-meaning subs with good Doms.”

She shook her head. The last thing she needed was to get more into Lara’s friend’s business. She’d done all right on her own so far. “Thanks, but I can handle it.”

Now his eyes came back up, narrowing. “It’s obvious to me you can’t.”

She was a little offended. He barely knew her, but he was making judgments already? “I didn’t ask your opinion, Mr. Dean. But I’m curious. It’s obvious you can’t stand me. I get that a lot. What exactly is it you don’t like?”

He crowded her just a bit, almost daring her to back away. Serena felt small and a little helpless against him. “I never said I didn’t like you. You’re a beautiful woman.”

“But you don’t seem to like me. You seem to like scaring me.” He wasn’t scaring her now. Fear wasn’t what she felt.

“I did that for your protection. You need to know how vulnerable you really are. You aren’t taking this seriously.”

He said it quietly, as though he actually cared. It brought down her resentment level. It did nothing to bring down her frustration, but still, as she spoke she found herself doing so in a polite, respectful manner. “I don’t understand. I did everything the cops told me to do. I hired a security firm to install an alarm system.”