Servicing the Target (Masters of the Shadowlands #10)(61)

Totally Anne’s type. Totally the complete opposite of Ben.

The bottle started to crumple in his grip.

Joey wanted to be her slave again—she could have her pretty boy back.

But she’d said no. Only…she was still talking to the little shit on the phone. How persuasive was he?

How much did she want to have a slave again?

Ben’s back teeth ground together. Should he let her know she had an alternate ready and willing to serve?

But he wasn’t a slave, dammit. Yeah, he’d pretty much accepted that he f*cking loved handing over the reins in the sex arena. The rest of the time? That was negotiable.

He scowled at a soaring frigatebird, its sharp black wings stark against the blue sky.

If she wanted 24/7, then… Shit. Could he?

But could he give her up? Go back to empty evenings with no Anne to argue over martial arts tactics or firearms, to wrestle with on the living room floor, to listen to the latest stupid stunt her cousin pulled.

Ben wanted her opinions when he worked on a photograph, wanted to eat the cookies she saved for him, wanted to see her sneaking Bronx the forbidden tidbits.

He wanted to watch the sunlight on her face in the mornings, to jog beside her on the beach, to enjoy her disapproving frown when he sugared his coffee.

No, he couldn’t give her up, not without a fight.

And he wouldn’t know if he liked being a “slave” if he didn’t try it. Fuck knew, if she went back to Joey, he’d never get that chance.

Anne came out and dropped down in the chair next to him. After a second, she leaned forward and hugged Bronx.

Ben frowned at her unsettled expression. Now that just wouldn’t do. He rose, scooped her up, and sat with her in his lap. Soft and warm. Her hip pressed against a part of his body that was rapidly wakening.

“Ben,” she said, giving her usual warning when he grabbed her, but she didn’t really sound upset.

He inhaled her light, spicy fragrance. She smelled like cinnamon and vanilla—as edible as one of her cookies. “I can’t have my mutt getting all the love. You’re going to make me jealous.”

Immediately, he regretted the words—coming so close after Joey’s call. To divert her, he nuzzled the curve between her neck and shoulder and nipped her lightly.

Her squirm made his cock stand at attention. Reporting for duty, yes, ma’am.

“What’s going on, Ben?” She turned, her hands bracketing his face as she stared into his eyes. “You’re different today.”

All right. She’d chosen the time and place, although he’d really have preferred to do this when he was buried deep inside her. “I’ve been thinking. About us. I want to move things up a notch.” He grinned. “Let’s go to a .44 magnum.”

Her head jerked back slightly, and her brows rose.

He traced a finger over the arch of one elegantly curved eyebrow, so different from his bushy straight lines.

With an exasperated huff, she pulled his hand down and frowned at him. “A .44 magnum. You want us to be exclusive.”

“Yeah.”

“I take slaves, Benjamin. Not lovers.”

Why did he see worry and the beginning of grief in her eyes? She started to push back.

His grip clamped on her ass. “I think you care for me, and I very much care for you. So yes, a .44. You’re not seeing anyone else, and neither am I. That’s exclusive. And I’ll be your slave.”

“You want to be my slave?” Anne studied his face as if it would reveal the future rather than just his desire. “I’m not sure that would be wise. What does being a slave mean to you?”

“Means I do what you say, try to please you—in bed and out.”

“Guard dog,” she said softly. “I’m a strict Mistress. Not an easy one. I prefer high protocol—no touching or speaking or sitting without permission. I’ll give you chores, ask you to take on duties you might not appreciate.”

“I’ve seen you with your slaves.”

She shook her head. “Are you sure, Ben? You’re new to the lifestyle. I think you’re rushing things.”

That phone call said there was a need for hurry.

The thought of losing her was intolerable. What would he do, how much of himself would he sacrifice to keep her by his side? To hear her laughter, to feel her hands on his face, to wake with her in his arms. “I’m sure. I’m not rushing things.”

She frowned. “There’s a difference between a submissive and a slave. I think the best explanation is that a submissive resembles an employee, whereas a slave is closer to a private in the Marines. A lot of choices are taken away.”

He’d been in the service; nothing new there.

“I don’t live with my slaves—but they’re available to me when I want them.”

They? Now that was a hard line for him, and this was the time to make that clear. “I want exclusive.”

When she nodded, he went further. “My work is separate. And you don’t get control over the time that we’re not together.” He pulled in a lungful of air and committed himself. “Everything else is yours. Yes, Ma’am, this is what I want.”

He could see the growing warmth in her eyes, could feel her respect and pleasure. Her chin came up, shoulders straightening as she accepted responsibility for him. He knew the feeling—the same one he’d had when a teammate trusted him to take his back.