You Only Love Twice (Masters and Mercenaries #8)(49)

Sure enough, Adam was right there, wrapping the robe around his wife’s body and lifting her into his arms. Jake grabbed his kit, shoving the paddle inside, and then he was racing after them, the eager look on his face making Phoebe tear up.

They were alive. They were in love. God, she missed that.

“You had enough? We could go back to the bar,” Jesse offered, moving to her side again now that the scene was over.

She wasn’t ready to go back. If they went back to the bar, the evening would be over and they would eventually go upstairs and turn off the lights and she would lie there wishing for something she shouldn’t, feeling alone and guilty.

“Can we watch Ian?” The big guy seemed to be getting something ready. He’d walked up on stage and started moving equipment around. Charlotte stepped up on stage with him. She looked surprisingly innocent in her modified fet wear. She wore a long skirt, but her breasts were covered with a leather bra. Her belly was on full display and her hand seemed drawn to it. She was always resting her hand there as though she found it soothing to make the connection. She smiled brightly at her husband, who frowned her way.

“Sure. He’s doing a demo tonight,” Jesse explained. “Though it looks like he won’t be using his wife. This is what we like to call an extra scene. It’s one the Dom didn’t really see coming.”

She loved how open and happy he looked. He was smiling and relaxed, like he’d been before her secret had come out, except there was really nothing between them, no wall of untruth to hold her back. Just that guilt creeping back in the happier she felt.

“What do you mean you’re not using me?” Charlotte Taggart’s words rang through the dungeon.

“I already told you I’m using another sub, one who isn’t pregnant with my child.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m fine, Ian. The baby is fine.”

He turned back to his wife. “I told you I won’t risk you going back into the hospital.”

“The doctor said the possibility of that is very low.”

“The doctor can bite my ass.” He leaned over and Phoebe could only barely hear him. “The doctor has never had to mourn you, Charlie. So no. This is simply an exhibition. I took a class and I would like to practice and see if anyone else wants to learn how to do this. If they do, I’ll bring in an instructor. There is nothing intimate or personal about this scene. However, if your jealousy is so great you can’t allow me to even perform an exhibition on another person, I’ll skip the scene.”

She had to admit that Taggart had the intimidation thing down. She wasn’t sure what she would do if she were in Charlotte Taggart’s shoes. Charlotte merely rolled her eyes. “You are such a drama llama. Fine. But I get to pick your partner.”

“Drama llama?” Taggart’s jaw had dropped a little. “You do know I’m more like an elephant. I never f*cking forget. The minute that boy is born, your ass is mine. I’ve got a list of punishments that will make your head spin.”

“I’ll look forward to it and she’s a girl.” She winked Taggart’s way and turned to the crowd. Phoebe nearly shrank back when she realized where Charlotte’s eyes had fixed. “Phoebe, I think my husband would feel infinitely better if he got to beat on you for a while.”

She shook her head and started to turn to walk right back upstairs. “Nope.”

“Chicken.”

Phoebe stopped and turned, staring at Charlotte and trying to judge if she was serious. “That is the most immature thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.”

“Oh, then you haven’t been listening to her very long. Give her time. It gets way worse.” Taggart stood on the stage, his eyes lit with mirth. He did have the most bent sense of humor.

“Chicken shit,” Charlotte continued. “That’s actually what I meant to say. You’re a little chicken shit, Phoebe Graham. Or is it Grant?”

Taggart nodded. “See, there it is.”

“Do you really think calling me names is going to work on me?” Anger started to build in her system. She hated the bullying crap.

Charlotte stepped off the stage, moving carefully down the stairs. Phoebe was well aware that every eye in the dungeon was on them.

“Maybe we should go back to our room,” Jesse offered, looking between Phoebe and Charlotte.

“Maybe we should have this out here and now.” She wasn’t backing down from some pregnant chick. “You know it’s really unfair of you to pull this shit while you’re pregnant and I can’t show you just how chicken I’m not.”

Charlotte grinned as she approached. “That’s the best part of being pregnant. I can say anything I like and no one gets to punch me. As to why I’m being such a bitch, that’s easy. I’m doing that for you.”

“Well, don’t let me forget to send you a f*cking thank you note.”

“If I don’t push you, you’re going to end up going back upstairs and you won’t have tried a damn thing. Jesse won’t push you. He’s too sweet, but I think you need a little shove because I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“Shouldn’t that be my call?”

Charlotte’s head shook. “Absolutely not because you’re a chicken.”

This was the most immature argument she’d ever been in, and she couldn’t seem to force her way out. “I am not. You know I spent time in a Chinese prison. It wasn’t exactly the Ritz and I’ve got the scars to prove it. I’m not some wilting flower.”