Servicing the Target (Masters of the Shadowlands #10)(84)

“Ben, she hit me.” Sheena looked up at him with wide eyes. “Are you going to let her do that?”

Ben laughed. “Gotta say, I find it really hot when a woman says, ‘Mine.’ What do you think, Leon?”

Leon smiled at his wife. “My Camille destroys poachers verbally. But that physical stuff? Whoa, that’s hot. I’m gonna buy you some chopsticks, bebe.”

“Sheena should be glad you didn’t have a whip at hand,” Ben murmured to Anne.

As his gaze held hers, heat sizzled through her blood stream. And just south of her fingertips, his jeans bulged. The man really had enjoyed seeing her go all Domme on Sheena’s ass.

After that interlude, both Sheena and Deanna concentrated on their food, while the rest of them talked.

“It seems that all of you have moved out of the city. Didn’t you like growing up in the Bronx?” Anne asked Camille.

“The South Bronx isn’t the best neighborhood. But after our father died, Mom couldn’t make enough to support all four of us. She tried—God, she really tried.” Camille exchanged a sorrowful look with Ben.

The way his shoulders tensed, as if he blamed himself, hurt Anne’s heart.

When she took his hand, his big fingers closed tightly around hers. “Considering the children she raised, I’d say your mom did a fine job, even if money was tight.”

Camille gave her a grateful look. “She did, against all odds. Ben, especially, had a rough time since he was under pressure to join a gang. He was working part time, going to school, and trying to protect Deanna and me. And we were so broke, he…”

Camille stopped suddenly and gave her brother a repentant look.

Anne frowned. Something had happened. She’d have to ask Ben later.

Being Ben, he let it all spill out. “We were short on money, and I got talked into a scheme to rob a liquor store. But…Mom’s morals held up. I couldn’t do it and backed out two days before. Pissed off the guys involved, and they jumped me after school. I got messed up pretty good.” He gave her a half-grin and rubbed his nose.

The nose that had been broken.

He hadn’t been an adult—had been in high school. She wondered how many other broken bones he’d suffered.

He continued, “In the hospital, a cop took my report and then came back the next day just to talk. To help me figure out a better path. So I enlisted and skipped the last of my senior year. With my pay, Mom and the girls moved into a safer neighborhood.”

He’d ended up helping them after all.

Anne hoped his mother had known how wonderfully she’d succeeded in her task—she’d raised an exceptional man.

At the end of the meal, Anne rose. “Excuse me, please. I need to visit the ladies’ room before I head home.”

Ben turned, located the restrooms, studied the intervening tables, and apparently decided no zombies or madmen would leap up and attack her. “All right.”

She shook her head in amusement. Her father and brothers possessed that same instinct to protect. So did she. It was difficult to be offended.

Still…

With her fingernails, she pinched his neck in warning and murmured, “So good of you to give me permission.”

He met her gaze and grinned unrepentantly.

Oh honestly. He wasn’t a brat. Exactly. In the bedroom, he was superbly obedient. But the rest of the time? Not so much.

Unsettled, she walked to the restroom.

In all reality, he wasn’t deliberately defiant. He simply didn’t look to her for instruction or permission. While her other slaves had wanted her oversight, her direction, she was beginning to see that Ben…didn’t.

But if that were true… Her chest felt as if she’d strapped on her body armor too tightly, restricting her lungs. With an effort, she pushed away her growing anxiety. Not the time. Not the place.

A few minutes later, while Anne was combing her hair, Camille entered. Instead of using the facilities, she leaned a hip on the wall. “I’m glad I caught you alone. I wanted to apologize for Sheena and Deanna. And to thank you.”

“Thank me for what?”

“Growing up in the South Bronx wasn’t easy. Ben tried to take care of us all, but he had no one watching out for him. Not since he was nine. Not until now.” Camille scowled. “I just wish you hadn’t had to protect him from his own sister.”

“Deanna might have blundered onto a wrong path, but Ben won’t be misled again,” Anne said. “I can see she has a lot going for her, and once she realizes her future is up to her, I think she’ll do fine. And probably be happier for it.”

“I think you’re right. And as for Sheena”—Camille rolled her eyes—“honestly, who does stuff like that? But Ben sure does attract some winners. Either money-grubbers latch onto him or he finds himself these obnoxious women who act as if they’re too good for him.”

Not unusual. Submissives searching for dominant partners could easily end up with control freaks. In Ben’s case, he wound up with bitches.

Camille moved away and paused at the door to say, “I’m really glad he found you.”

“Me, too.”

At least I’m not a bitch. Hopefully. And she loved him with all her heart.

But was she good for him?

Sometimes he seemed totally content with what they had together. But sometimes she wasn’t sure he really was happy, even though he said he was. Even though he insisted being her slave was what he wanted.