Have Gun, Will Travel (The Bare Bones MC #5)(13)
“Oh.” My heart skipped a beat. I stumbled over my words. “Well, I don’t really look all that, ah, sexy when I do that. Besides, I don’t think Roscoe would approve. I don’t think he’d…let me.” The truth was, I wanted to cook for Sax wearing nothing but an apron and heels! Oh Lord, I wanted nothing more out of life! Just by riding one up behind this buff, virile man, I’d suddenly become some sort of slut. Already I was fantasizing about tightly wrapping a cock ring around his prick, then getting to my knees to inhale the throbbing, beautiful thing into my mouth. I was a good deep throater, I knew. I was stretched. But Sax’s penis appeared much larger than Roscoe’s…
He lifted a hand to my chin, stroked my bottom lip with his callused thumb. His eyes were dreamy, mesmerizing. Is this what he did to all his subs? If so, it worked. “I understand, lady, although I beg to differ that you wouldn’t look sexy doing that. You don’t want to earn your Dom’s disapproval. You’re a good little sub. I just want you to know the opportunity will always be there, if you choose. If you want to make payment for some of my services, you know what you can do.”
I sat up straighter. Blackmail! “Well, I would if I could, Sax. You’re a…a very attractive man.” No, that was the understatement of the century—of the millennia. “But I’m pretty sure that Roscoe would—”
I was disappointed when he withdrew his thumb from my lips. “Are you absolutely certain, Bee? Are you certain your Dom would disapprove? Or have you ever discussed those parameters?”
How the f*ck did he know? Sax seemed to be all-seeing, all-knowing about things he couldn’t possibly know. It was unnerving. “Well, I’m collared,” I said, fingering the leather around my neck. “Isn’t that what collaring means? No stepping outside the relationship? I took it to mean I am owned by him.”
He shrugged. When he folded his arms in front of his chest, he appeared buffer, wider, more formidable. “Sometimes it’s just a fashion accessory. Traditional Dom/sub relationships have been changing. It can mean anything you want it to, as long as it’s discussed beforehand. Did you discuss fidelity with your Dom?”
“Well, not really, as far as I can recall. He told me it’s a ‘collar of consideration,’ that he owns me, and…that’s about it.”
“Aha. A training collar is like a pre-engagement ring. It can be removed at any time by you with no harm, no foul. It’s the least serious of all collars.”
I was shocked. “Really? Then does that mean that Roscoe can…” I faded out. I didn’t want this relative stranger to know I was questioning my relationship. Could Roscoe go and, well, collar other girls behind my back?
“Just something to consider,” said Sax, signaling the bartender for two more sodas.
The front door opened, making a rectangle of sunshine on the dark, shiny floor. Several black silhouettes entered the bar. They conglomerated by the door for a few seconds as the people scanned the room. Once I could make them out, I saw Brenda, Missy, and Rhetta among the women, and I waved wildly.
“Over here!”
When Brenda got a load of Sax, she broke into a run. “Sax!” she squealed, flinging her arms around his neck and burying her face there. I was envious. I wished my face could rub against the warmth of his neck.
But another character with their party piqued my interest. This guy was soap opera handsome, and almost dressed as though starring in one. His white-toothed smile was ingratiating, his perfectly coiffed black and silver hair curly and shiny, as though molded with hairspray, or worse. He was clad in a flashy chartreuse patterned polyester shirt with a jacket that was probably polyester too, the airplane collar sticking out just so. Still, as flamboyant as he was, he struck me as good-hearted and well intentioned. He flapped the lapels of his jacket and looked down at me as though I were a photographer. I half expected one of his teeth to twinkle.
While Brenda was occupied catching up with Sax, Rhetta introduced me with excitement. “Beatrix, this is Santiago. Santiago Slayer.”
While I pondered on the meaning of his name, he took my hand and actually kissed it. His voice was richly modulated, the enunciation of a well-educated man from Mexico City. “Madam. I am at your service. I have heard of the horrible, the most gruesome, vomit-inducing things that have happened to your business partner, Cassie. I am here to ensure that vengeance is served.”
Was Santiago…was he a sicario? Somehow, I didn’t picture sicarios walking around in two-toned white patent leather shoes. He didn’t fit the image at all. Sax, however, did.
When I stood, Sax did too, brushing away Brenda and her babblings. I said, “So you’re willing to take care of our problem? Because Sax here just agreed to help us out too.”
Santiago drew himself up at the mention of a rival. He formally placed one hand against his stomach and glared at Sax, nodding tightly. “Sir. May the race be swift and the best man win. But I can guarantee you women, you will not regret having engaged the services of Santiago Slayer, famed sicario to many organizations throughout the southwest.”
I looked to Rhetta. She explained, “I knew Santiago from the ashram. Our leader used him as sort of an enforcer when people weren’t behaving.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “I don’t need to know the details.”
“Santiago Slayer,” stated Sax. “I’ve heard of you. Didn’t you let some mark go cruising on by down at the Desert Diamond Casino in Tucson because you had to duck into a bathroom to fix your hair?”