The Men with the Golden Cuffs (Masters and Mercenaries #2)(17)

Adam’s face fell. “What? But we just got here. Look, sweetheart, I know the whole breaking-in thing was scary, but we did have a point. Your security system sucks. And, in our defense, we did call and ring the doorbell. We can’t do our job standing on your front porch waiting for you to finish with the dancing thing. That was adorable by the way.”

She flushed. God, she hated the fact that a part of her wanted to believe he wasn’t insulting her. His teasing tone was soft and cajoling. When he smiled, the most gorgeous dimples showed up on his face. Adam Miles was just about everything she could want in a boyfriend. He was charming and smart, and he came with a built-in alpha-male partner.

Stop right there, Serena Brooks. Your imagination is running wild. The world doesn’t work that way.

“I don’t think this is about the breakin. She said we were making fun of her.” Jake’s brows drew together in a serious expression as though he was working through a problem. “I didn’t make fun of her. I told her to stop yelling. I have excellent hearing. I can’t stand yelling.”

And he apparently thought she was dense. “You know I wasn’t talking about you.” She turned to Adam. It had really hurt coming from him. She’d expected someone like Jake to think less of her for what she wrote, but Adam had seemed more tolerant.

“What? Me? Are you serious? How did I make fun of you?” He seemed to really struggle with the idea.

“You obviously read some of the titles of my books. Look, I get that you wouldn’t read a book like that, but I won’t listen to anyone denigrate the choices I’ve made in my lifestyle. You might not understand or accept it, but I will demand that you respect it.”

Jake actually laughed. “The little sub thinks we have problems with BDSM.”

Adam’s eyes rolled. “Yeah, uhm, you do have some problems, sweetheart. How long have you been in the lifestyle? Or are you a little tourist who likes to rage against the machine?”

“I had to take off my leathers to come here. I was at a club called Sanctum.” Jake’s face had softened a bit. “Adam knows my limits. I don’t like pretty subs spouting filth at me in anger. He has a smart mouth, but he would never ridicule you. Lightning would strike.”

Adam smiled at her. “And the earth would shake. Seriously, we don’t think that way. We’re far too odd on our own. And I haven’t read any of your books, but I would like to.”

Jake’s whole body went on wary alert. “We actually need to. From what I understand, this is about your books, correct?”

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.”