The Men with the Golden Cuffs (Masters and Mercenaries #2)(38)

Jake shrugged, obviously comfortable with his inner caveman. “It did the trick.” He turned to Master Storm. “Would you like to see my gun?”

“I don’t need a gun,” Master Storm replied. “My body is a weapon.”

Serena could feel the whole room go on testosterone overload. If she didn’t handle this, and quickly, Master Storm was going to get a demonstration of what the Green Berets taught their men. “I’m afraid I’m confused, Sir. I was under the impression you were happy with my progress in our last talk.”

She’d thought she would get an invitation to a demonstration. She’d been looking forward to it, and then her world had cracked open.

“I was referring to the rather bratty tone of your last two e-mails. I asked you if you would like to come to my house to play this weekend, and I was told to play with myself, though you used rougher terms. I’m rather wondering if that was you at all, dear.”

She turned to Adam.

“I actually told him to f*ck himself. And that if he needed an ass to paddle, he should look in the mirror.” He sat back without a single look of remorse on his face.

She took a long breath and nodded back at Master Storm. “Obviously I didn’t send that e-mail. I had asked Adam to send me any mail that needed my direct attention.”

“And I was to handle anything that didn’t,” Adam explained. “I did exactly what you wanted me to. I handled the unimportant things.”

They would have to have a talk about that later, but for now she simply sent him her most stern look. It seemed to bounce right off him. He winked at her.

“I am so sorry, Sir. I apologize for any discourtesy.” Just because Adam had decided to act like an ass didn’t mean she couldn’t save the relationship. After Adam and Jake were gone, she doubted they would have the time to answer her questions. She would be alone in her fictional world, and she would need Master Storm. Jake and Adam might not see it that way, but she knew how it would work. They were interested because she was the only woman available. They were being paid to be with her twenty-four seven. When they didn’t have to be, they would find a woman in their league, and she would be out in the cold.

Master Storm finally sat down. He seemed to ignore the men in the room, his eyes focusing on her. “I’m glad to hear that, little one. I have to admit I was more hurt by that e-mail than I would have expected to be.”

Actually, that didn’t help. One of the things she’d liked about Storm was the fact that he’d seemed relatively unmoved by her. The last thing she needed was to get involved with someone she didn’t even like. She’d chosen Storm because she wouldn’t get emotionally involved. And yet she couldn’t quite say it to him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t send it, and obviously Adam and I will be having a conversation.”

Jake sat forward. “Add me in, baby, because I made him put in the part about this guy being a complete ass. You do know his real name is Austin Stinchfield, right? I would have changed my name, too, dude. Though I would have picked something other than Storm.”

Storm’s eyes narrowed. “Serena, dear, one of the things about our lifestyle is we must decide to ignore those who don’t understand us. And we must make hard decisions.” He leaned forward. “Serena, you don’t have to do this. I have a dojo. I teach several members of the Dallas Police Department. I can protect you. You don’t have to put up with this. As a matter of fact, it would be best if you would get a bag and simply come back to my place.”

Jake sat forward. “She’s not going anywhere. This is a serious threat.”

Jake’s jaw had tightened, forming a dangerous line. Serena put a hand on his knee, silently begging him to let her handle this. They had already damaged her relationship with Master Storm.

“I thank you for the offer, Sir,” she began politely.

Master Storm smiled, a deeply self-satisfied expression. “Good. Because I also wanted to discuss your books with you.”

“I told you,” Jake began, but Adam stopped him. They seemed to have one of those silent conversations she usually found fascinating. After a moment, Jake sat back. “Please feel free to have the discussion now.”

Master Storm frowned. “I think this is best done privately. I don’t like to humiliate my submissives unless I am forced to.”

Humiliate? She felt her gut tighten. She didn’t like the sound of that. Master Storm had told her he would read her books. He’d shown an interest, and she’d thought that perhaps she could change his mind. After all, he was in the lifestyle. She was promoting the lifestyle. She knew that what she wrote was romance and not pure erotica, but surely he would see the value in it. “I’d like to hear your opinion.”

She didn’t want to, but it was better to know.

Master Storm frowned and settled back into the loveseat. “Fine. If you insist. One of the reasons I’ve decided to take on your training is so I can mold your writing career. You have some talent, but you are woefully wrong about most aspects of the lifestyle. There is no such thing as ménage with any permanency in BDSM.”

“Oh, god, he’s a ‘one-true-wayer,’” Jake said on a groan.

Storm ignored him. “You place the emphasis on the submissive which only proves to me that you don’t understand the meaning of submission. Submission is about service to the Dom, and the submissive finds her true purpose in serving and pleasing the Dom. The Doms in your books are far too easy on the submissives. I believe that if I train you, you will understand Dominance and submission more fully. I’m going to offer you a place as a full-time slave. I’ll take a guiding hand in your work. You need to move away from the bourgeois romance angle.”