Masters at Arms (10 page)

Soon he would have her back in her safe
little world, thankfully, before they did something she’d regret
later. He wouldn’t regret anything he did with her, though. No
fucking way.

Luckily, her exit was coming up. Soon he’d
have her safe at home. He hoped she wouldn’t venture out on another
escort assignment anytime soon with Jerk-off.

As he came to the end of the ramp, she lifted
the visor and shouted in his ear, “Don’t take me home yet.”

He just about blew a wad in his pants.
Whether it was her warm body against him, her sexy voice in his
ear, or visions of having her body underneath his, he knew in an
instant where he wanted to take her before he let this
mariposa
flit away for good. He’d never taken a
chica
there before….

Don’t analyze it
.
Just point the
front tire in the right direction
.

He turned left and wove his way through the
business and residential districts of Solana Beach, and then became
one with the sea air as he accelerated. Riding eighty miles an hour
along the Pacific Coast Highway and the 5 always recharged his
batteries. He’d begun escaping here as soon as he’d learned to
drive. As a sixteen-year-old, he’d made the trip in a beat-up
Chevy.

Being locked up in juvie had nearly strangled
his soul. When they’d released him, he’d spent about two weeks at
Thousand Steps Beach, sleeping on the cliffs at high tide, and
exploring the beach and cave at low.

Don’t think about that now. You have a
beautiful woman plastered against your body, man. Focus.

Damián hoped she didn’t mind stairs. He loved
how few people frequented this beach—probably because of those
daunting stairs. Almost like having his own private beach. He
couldn’t wait to share the place with Savannah. His heartbeat sped
up as they came upon the outskirts of Camp Pendleton.

Wouldn’t be long now.

* * *

Savannah’s body had never felt so relaxed.
She’d have fallen asleep, if not for the fear of falling off his
Harley. She grinned. Savannah Gentry riding a Harley hog.
Good
Lord
. And in a skintight dress covered in a leather
Harley-emblazoned jacket, no less.

She suppressed a giggle. Escape. The feeling
was so exhilarating. She never wanted this moment to end. She
already knew she was in for the discipline session of a lifetime.
Might as well do something to earn it.

She raised her head and looked around. The
rising sun cast a pinkish tinge over the landscape. The ocean
spread out to the horizon on her left. The last time she’d been on
the PCH and the 5 just for fun was…don’t think about that now.
Lifting the helmet’s visor again, she took a deep breath of the
salty sea air. Alive. She wanted to relish in the feeling of being
alive—free—before she returned to her prison.

They were passing through Camp Pendleton
because she saw tanks on early-morning maneuvers to the west. How
had they gotten this far north in such a short time? They must be
flying like the wind. She loved it.

“Where are we headed?” she shouted into his
ear, feeling loose strands of his hair whipping against her lips.
She felt a zing to her clit. Crazy! She smiled and closed her
eyes.

“Laguna Beach. A special place I want to show
you.”

A niggling memory flashed across her mind.
Happy, yet sad. Savannah quashed the memory before it could invade
her good mood. Leave the past in the past.

She felt like a schoolgirl cutting class, or
what she’d imagined that would feel like. Having had private tutors
at home, skipping classes was something she had never been able to
do. She’d been caned more than once by her tutors for other
infractions, though. Some days, she seemed to get in trouble for
breathing. More likely, they were just pervs given permission by
Master to discipline her.

Forget about that for now. Today, you’re
free, at least for a little while. Lowering the visor, she slid her
arms around his waist, her thumbs brushing against his pecs. His
muscles felt like leather-covered steel. She loved to touch him.
The rumble of the Harley motor against her clit stimulated her much
better than the butterfly vibrator her father used to force orgasms
on her when he wanted to exact that torture on her.

Don’t think about Him anymore.

All too soon, Damián pulled into a parking
spot across the highway from the beach-access steps. She scooted
back on the seat, ignoring the stinging pain in her bandaged
thighs. She didn’t want to think about that beating anymore. She
only wanted to experience this, her last day.

Damián got off the bike first. She expected
him to extend a hand to help her off. Instead, he motioned for her
to swing her leg over the bike’s seat, then bent down to remove her
stilettos.

“We’re ditching the heels,” he said. He
opened the storage case behind the seat, pulled out a beach towel,
and stowed her shoes inside.

“I don’t have any other shoes.”

“I’ll carry you.” He removed her helmet—well,
his
helmet, since he only had the one—and secured it in the
compartment with her shoes.

She laughed. “I can walk in my bare feet once
we get to the beach.”

His hands spanned her waist under the open
jacket and he lifted her up as if she weighed nothing. She grabbed
onto his shoulders to steady herself, laughing. His muscles corded
beneath his black T-shirt.

“I’ll carry you again when we get to the
rocks, then.”

Rocks? She thought they were just going to
stroll along the beach. Where did he plan to take her? Curiosity
filled her thoughts as she alternated standing on one foot then the
other. Seconds after her feet hit the pavement, the cuts she’d
endured yesterday on her soles caused her to wince.

Damián handed her the towel, then lifted her
into his arms. “Oh!” She screamed in surprise and laughed. Holding
onto the towel, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Satin on
steel. His attention was intent on watching for an opening in
traffic for them to cross. She stared at his profile.

His nose had been broken at some point. Had
he been an athlete in school, or had he been injured fighting? He
had a closed-up hole for an ear piercing. No earring. A lock of
hair fell over his forehead that she itched to brush back with her
fingers. His devilish appearance did strange things to her
libido—like ignite it. Strange, indeed.

She was grateful she didn’t have to walk
after all. It would take a while for her tender soles to heal. He
started down the steps and she looked ahead to see where they were
going.

A flash of memory caused a momentary bout of
vertigo. She held on tighter and looked back up at him, almost
expecting to see Maman. No. She was with Damián. She pushed the
confusing image back into the recesses of her mind.

The steps went on forever. “My God! Are there
really a thousand of them?” She couldn’t even see the beach for the
overgrown arbor hanging over portions of the stairway. Guilt
assailed her for making him carry her. “You can put me down. I can
walk.”

“I’m carrying you.”

His tone didn’t invite disagreement, so she
held on tight, hoping to ease some of her weight from his arms.
Then she worried about putting a strain on his neck. But he didn’t
even sound out of breath, as though he bench-pressed a woman every
day or something.

When he reached the sand and continued to
carry her, she nipped lightly at his earlobe, and whispered, “Put
me down, Damián.” His arms tightened around her even more. Lord,
she loved the feel of his arms under her thighs and around her
back.

Why do I feel at home in the arms of this
stranger?

This man who simply made her feel. Period.
She’d been numb for so long. How had he gotten past her fortress at
all, much less in such a short time? A first for her with any
man.

After ten minutes or so, still not winded, he
lowered her to the ground, letting her slide down his rock-hard
body, allowing her to feel every contour of his chest and thighs.
And a very erect penis
.
Savannah not only felt his erection,
but her nipples tightened with the friction of his chest against
hers. She’d never been aroused by a man, yet Damián had caused her
clit to jolt and her panties to grow wet with little more than a
look.

Good Lord, Savannah Gentry was full-blown
horny.

Heady with her body’s response, she pulled
his head toward hers and nibbled at his lips, then sucked on his
full lower lip. He groaned and grabbed the back of her head as he
deepened the kiss. His tongue dove inside her, claiming her mouth
as his. Rather than repulse her, Savannah felt her pelvis tilt
toward him automatically. He lowered one of his hands to the small
of her back and ground her even tighter against his erection.

When she thought her lungs would explode, she
broke off the kiss, gasping for air, and laid her forehead in the
crook of his neck. His pulse pounded as hard as hers.

When he spoke, he sounded as if he’d run a
25-yard dash.
“Madre de Dios.”

Now
he was winded. She smiled. What
carrying her all that way hadn’t managed, a kiss had.

Damián reached out to brush a strand of hair
behind her ear. “Nice diversion, but we aren’t there yet.”

Well, she was closer to
there
than
she’d ever been before. Then she understood his meaning and looked
around. Huge moss-covered rocks dotted the beach leading to an
opening in the cliff. A small tidal pool sat at the entrance,
surrounded by jagged rocks pounded relentlessly by the foamy waves.
To her left were high cliffs with expensive homes barely clinging
to their ledges. She was amazed the people living in the homes
hadn’t claimed this beautiful spot as their own private sanctuary,
rather than having it become a public-access beach. In Rancho, the
residents would have put up a gate to keep out the riff-raff.

A flock of gulls dove at them, begging for
handouts. She wished she had something to feed them. When their
insistent squawking didn’t yield the desired result, they flew down
the nearly deserted beach hoping to find an easier mark.

Her feet were soothed by the cold, wet sand.
She could probably walk once they got to the soft sand on the other
side of the tidal pool.
How do you know there is soft sand on
the other side?

She squeaked when Damián bent down, pressed
his shoulder against her stomach, then hoisted her over his massive
shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Hey, put me down!”

“I need to watch my footing or we’re both
going to be sprawled on those rocks.”

The view of his tight ass being brushed by
her loose hair sent her stomach into a tailspin. She giggled. She
held onto the towel still, but didn’t know what to hold to steady
herself. His ass seemed as good a place as any. She slid her free
hand into the back pocket of his jeans.

“You’d better move your hands higher or I’m
going to drop you here on the beach and have my way with you.”

She moved her hands against his lower back
instead, holding onto the waistband of his jeans. His hand molded
against her butt, holding her steady. Another zing let her know her
body was very much aware of his.

She held on for dear life as he began
walking. He navigated the rocks peppering the beach below with a
sureness of foot, as though he’d been here many times. She looked
down at the tidal pool and saw sea urchins clinging to the
rocks.

Savannah’s heart skittered, then slammed
against her chest like a jackhammer. So familiar. She’d come here
many times, as well.

In her mind.

“You okay?” he asked, concern in his voice,
as he stopped.

She realized her hands were gripping at his
jeans harder than before. She managed to squeak out a “yes,” over
the steady pounding of her heart. She didn’t need to see where they
were headed. The jagged archway was the entrance to her cave. Her
safe place beckoned them inside the cave. A brisk, cool breeze
whipped her hair against her face. She hadn’t imagined the wind
before when she’d escaped here. Or the strong arms holding her
against a hard body.

When he reached the center of the cave, he
lowered her to her feet. He looked down at her expectantly, as if
proud to show off his special place. Tears spilled from her eyes.
Her private cave. She’d never shared it with anyone except
Maman.

Until now.

She almost felt that if she turned around,
Maman would be waiting for her, a picnic lunch spread on a blanket.
Savannah couldn’t bring herself to look.

Maman had left her. She didn’t even say
goodbye. Savannah still loved her. She just wished Maman had taken
her with her, rather than leaving her behind.

Damián’s gentle, but firm hand cupped her
chin and pulled her gaze upward as he tilted her head back. His
brow furrowed and he cocked his head. Concern clouded his eyes. The
only man who’d ever cared about her, taken care of her, now wanted
to show her
his
special place.

She wanted nothing more than to please him in
return, even if there never could be a relationship between them.
Tears spilled down her face, bitten by the cool breeze. They could
only have this day. This moment in time.

Because someone else owned her body.

Until tonight, when, at last, the slave
screwed the Master.

* * *

Damián brushed the wetness away from her
cheeks. Tears? Why? “What’s the matter,
querida
?”

She shook her head and more tears spilled
from the outer corners of her eyes. “Just kiss me,” she
whispered.

He had no idea what had happened to the mood
from when she’d been giggling on the beach. But the hard-on he’d
been fighting against since he’d held her last night demanded he
worry about all that stuff later. Right now, he held the most
perfect woman in the world in his arms. She wanted to be kissed. By
him. Before she vanished into thin air, he would give the lady what
she wanted.