Cardinal's Rule (13 page)

“I wondered why he never had a problem chipping in with the chores.”

Landry laughed. “The man can fold and iron clothes like no one’s business.”

She snorted, amused. “Amen.” They clinked glasses in a toast.

“He took a class for that, too. One of the groups where we used to live, they ran a three-month course for lifestyle slaves. A professional butler taught them things like that.”

They finished eating and he helped her with the dishes. “So tell me about yourself,” Landry

said. “Cris told me just the basics.” She must have frowned at that. He clarified. “It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk about you because you meant little to him. He wanted to protect your privacy. It was quite obvious to me from how he sounded when talking about you that he loved you very much.”

She didn’t know how to deal with that information. “Oh.”

“He told me your step-father went to jail for attacking you.”

Her stomach turned. “Do we need to talk about that right now?” she asked, her jaw tight.

“Of course not. Not if you don’t wish to.”

“Good.”

After they finished eating and he helped her with the dishes, she yawned. “I’m going to go

change clothes. Want to watch TV for a while?”

“Ah, we’re already acting like an old married couple.”

She changed into an oversized T-shirt and comfy sleeping shorts. He didn’t change, but he

pulled the shirttail free of his jeans and unbuttoned it. She didn’t miss the pale scars twisting across his abdomen.

He followed her gaze. “Yes, I’m not very pretty, am I?” He patted his lap. “Put your feet up here, Madame.”

She laid back on the couch and moaned as he began massaging her feet. “That’s great!”

No one had given her a foot massage since…

Even though a few of her clients were into foot worship, she couldn’t stomach the thought of most of them touching her. No one had really touched her since Cris left. Cris had always given damn good foot rubs.

“Yes, I taught him this,” Landry said as he slowly kneaded her feet. “Does that surprise you?

That a Master enjoys doing this?”

She looked up at him, caught his teasing expression. “I know. No assumptions.”

He grinned. “No assumptions. Absolutely.”

They talked until well past midnight. Landry called Cris twice more, never revealing where he was or what they were doing. Eventually they moved to her bedroom. He went into the bathroom and changed into a pair of silk boxers.

“So I don’t get a preview tonight?” she teased.

He laughed as he slipped under the sheets with her. “Let’s let the sexual tension build. You 

barely know me.”

She wouldn’t deny letting him draw her close and cuddle her in his arms as they settled on their sides felt good.

Damn
good.

She liked the way his body fit hers. He kissed the back of her neck. “Comfy?”

“Yeah. Actually, I am.”

“Good.”

Chapter Seven

The slave didn’t know where Master had spent the night. It wasn’t his business, although he

was curious.

He hoped whatever Master had planned that it didn’t involve Tilly.

He also hoped that Master didn’t drag her into their lives any more than he already had. He

loved her, would always love and miss her, but how cruel to interrupt her life when she’d obviously moved on?

Bob.
Was he her boyfriend and not just a client? The guy sure had acted pissed enough to be a boyfriend.

Slave beat back his jealousy again. He’d released her. He’d chosen his path.

He had no right to feel jealous over who might be sharing her bed. Surely she’d found someone else by now.

Hadn’t she?

Part of him prayed she had, that she hadn’t spent those years alone while he warmed Landry’s bed, relatively happy except for the hole in his heart where he would always miss and love her. And he would feel even guiltier if she hadn’t.

Part of him hoped she didn’t have anyone, that she still in some small way belonged to him.

Because the thought of another man touching her ripped his heart out even though he knew he had no right to feel like that.

At seven-thirty that morning, the room phone rang. He answered it before the first ring ended.

“Master?”

“That’s my good boy. Get a shower, get dressed, go eat breakfast. Walk around a little if you’d like. Be back at the room by ten. You may stay dressed until I say otherwise.”

“Yes, Master.”

Master hung up, leaving slave listening to a dial tone.

He smiled. Master had called him his good boy.

That was the most affection he’d had from him in a month.

* * * *

Landry laid his cell on the bedside table. Tilly still slept beside him. They’d need a bigger bed, that’s for sure. He liked room to move around.

Would he be able to convince her to stay after their agreement ended? He’d caught glimpses of her slave nature throughout the day yesterday. No, he wouldn’t exploit her like that. He promised not to top her and he’d meant it.

How would Cris react? Would he maintain his slave status, or would having Tilly around bring out his dominant nature and end his service? Could Cris live with his dual nature with both of them?

Would he try to win her back?

Would he stay?

He rolled onto his side so he could look at her. Her request had shocked the hell out of him. He suspected it was more an angry reaction on her part than a genuine desire for revenge. It wouldn’t surprise him if at the last minute she couldn’t go through with it. Truth be told, he looked forward to it.

He felt his cock stiffen in his shorts, morning woody time.

Normally he and Cris would make love, if they had time. Since the revelation he’d ordered

slave over to his bed to service him when he felt like it.

He missed the affection more than he’d ever admit. He’d slept better last night than he had in the past month. Having Tilly in his arms definitely didn’t feel like a chore or a sacrifice.

When she opened her eyes he was glad he’d pulled the sheet up to his waist. His cock

thickened, throbbing as her hazel eyes met his. Her gaze flicked down to his waist and back up to his face.

“Would you like a little help with that?”

He laughed. “Then you’d know my secrets before our wedding night.”

“I don’t mind.”

He leaned in and kissed her gently, which only made his cock throb harder. “I know you don’t, and I appreciate it. I’ll survive. I think I’d rather draw out the sweet agony a little longer.”

“See? You like me being a Domme. You enjoy tease and denial.”

He fell back on his pillow and laughed long and hard at her playful expression. “You, my dear, are sweetly evil. I adore you already.”

* * * *

He took her out to breakfast, and then asked her to direct him to the closest mall.

“Why?”

“I didn’t bring any suits on this trip. I planned on securing us a place to live, then returning home to arrange the move. My diagnosis changed my plans.” He glanced at her. “I refuse to get married dressed like a slob.”

She arched an eyebrow at that. He looked like a businessman on casual Friday—pressed khakis

and button-up shirt. No tie, but the last thing she thought when she looked at him was slob. “Don’t dress up on my account.”

He pulled into a parking space. “Love, I have never been married. I realize this is a bit of a rush and all, but I would like to make an attempt at doing this the right way.”

“I suppose you want me to dress up, too?” she teased.

He leaned in and kissed her. “I don’t expect a formal white gown.”

“I would hope not.” She smiled. “I’m far past wearing something as light as ivory, I’m afraid.”

He laughed. “That makes two of us.”

He purchased a black designer suit at a high-end department store and paid them extra to

complete the alterations that afternoon. He let her pick the purple silk tie, and when they finished, he led her to the women’s department and coaxed her into a beautiful, deep purple dress. When she went to pay for it, he gently took it from her and laid it on the counter. “I’m paying. This is for
my
fiancée.”

Her heart skipped in her chest at his tone. She had to swallow before she could speak. “You

don’t have to do that.”

“I know.” He leaned in and kissed her, leaving her breathless. “I want to do it.”

* * * *

But he wasn’t finished. On their way through the mall he pulled up short outside of a jewelry

store and smiled. “Come along, love. Another chore. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner.”

He walked inside.

She swallowed hard and followed him. He browsed through the display cases of wedding band

sets. “What strikes your fancy?”

“Just get something cheap. Whatever.” Another thought struck her. “How’d you know my ring

size?” The engagement ring fit perfectly.

“I guessed based on your pictures. Slender hands, light bones. Ooh, I like this set. What do you think?” He pointed to a beautiful gold set, engraved with an intricate pattern and inlaid with small diamonds.

“It’s beautiful.” The sales clerk pulled it out. When Tilly saw the price, she choked. “Landry, seriously? That’s over two grand.”

He turned his green eyes on her. “So? Do you like it?”

“Yes, but—”

“We’ll take it,” he told the clerk.

Tilly tried to protest. “Okay, I mean, I know you have money, but seriously? Is this necessary?”

He turned to her and gently grabbed her hands as he pulled her close. With his forehead

touching hers, he whispered, “Please, humor me. I don’t ever plan on getting married again in my life, and I would prefer to do it as right as I can under the circumstances. I can afford this.”

Jesus Christ, the guy might not make it.
She found it hard to remember when he acted like he was fine.

With a deep sigh, she agreed. “All right.”

Her heart fluttered over his beaming smile. “Thank you, sweetheart.” He kissed her.

Well, okay then.

He sent her to the mall’s food court to get him coffee while he paid for the rings. Then they had lunch and returned to her house. He hadn’t called Cris, unless he did it when not within her sight.

She wondered what was going through Cris’ mind, if he felt worried, jealous.

Angry.

Fearful that perhaps he’d been abandoned?

On that last point she sincerely hoped so. Give him a taste of it.

“You feel sorry for him,” Landry said as they pulled into her driveway.

“Excuse me?”

“You look deep in thought.”

“You’re spooky.”

“Cris tells me that a lot.”

She smiled. “Aha. You said his name again.”

He carried her packages inside for her, including new shoes she’d bought to match the dress.

“As you said, after the big night it will be easier to move past this.”

“Don’t be pissed at him on my account.”

“I’m not. I’m pissed at him on mine.”

She smacked her forehead. “Aw, crap.”

“What?”

She winced and looked at him. “It’s Friday. I’m supposed to have dinner with Ross and Loren

and then go with them to the club tonight.”

“Ah.” He thought about it for a moment. “I’d like to meet them.”

“Oh, yeah, great plan,” she snorted. “How the fuck am I supposed to explain you? ‘Hey, Ross, I know you said you’d castrate Cris with a propane torch if you ever saw him again, but I’d like you to meet my
fiancé
, his
Master
. Oh, by the way, they’re both living with me.’” She laughed. “Um, yeah.”

His eyebrow arched. “Propane torch? I like his style. I’ll hold slave down for him.”

“That’s a recurring theme with you, isn’t it? You really
are
a sadist.”

“I have no use for his testicles. I only need his ass and his cock.” He frowned. “Then again, I don’t need his cock, either. We have some really nice toys that do just as well and never go soft.”

She snorted. “No. His testicles and cock stay attached to his body. If anyone should get first crack at them, it’s me.”

“That’s my girl. Now you’re talking.” He sat on the sofa and studied her. “So you haven’t dated anyone since Cris? Except for your date with Bob, I mean.”

Heat filled her face. “Do we need to talk about this right now?”

“Well, it does make it more difficult to explain me to your friends, I suppose,” he said. “They won’t buy the ‘secret internet boyfriend’ excuse.” He patted his lap. “Come here,” he softly said.

“What?”

“Just come here. Please?”

Warily eyeing him, she walked over. He gently caught her wrist and pulled her down onto the

couch so she straddled his lap, facing him. He rested his hands on her thighs. The position put her eye to eye with him, making her jeans suddenly feel way too tight, rubbing her clit in an uncomfortably erotic way.

“What do you want to do?” he asked. “I would be more than happy to explain the situation for you, if you wish. I will gladly take the brunt of their ire.”

She rested her hands on his chest.
Nice chest. Very nice chest.
She slipped them up to his shoulders and settled her bottom a little more comfortably onto his thighs. Nice, firm thighs.

Oh fuck. I am sooo screwed.

“I can’t keep this from them. They come over for dinner and movie nights. Loren comes over a couple of times a week for lunch or to help humiliate a client who wants a witness. We can’t keep Cris locked in a closet.”

His hands slid up to her waist before settling on her hips. “Sure we can. Why not? He won’t

mind.”

She smiled. “Seriously,” she said.

“I was serious. Again I ask, what do
you
want to do?”

She knew the question pertained to the whole Loren and Ross roasting Cris’ chestnuts on a not-so-open fire issue, but she let that drop in lieu of leaning in and kissing Landry. She relaxed into it, enjoying the feel of his arms slipping around her and pulling her to him as she draped hers around his neck.