Saved by His Submissive (30 page)

“Nooooo!”

Rayna’s scream filled the room. Garrett lunged, slamming King away before the bastard could pull the knife free and make Z bleed out. Sage dashed over, trying to help Garrett pin King down, but the asshole got a solid backhand in on her cheek and she fell away. Seconds later, King scrambled clear from Garrett too. He stumbled to his feet, wrenched open the door—

Then crumpled against the jam, and slid down it.

A streak of blood followed his descent, flowing from the bullet wound in his forehead. There was a nick in the wood, clearly made by another bullet that had missed.

Sage tried to get in air past her shocked gasps. She hadn’t even heard the shots. What the hell?

She stared back across the room. A shocked exhalation left her.

She’d set herself up to behold Wyatt to be standing there with the smoking gun.

The weapon was braced in Rayna’s trembling hands.

“You want
over,
asshole?” Her friend’s voice wobbled past lips that glistened with tears, and teeth that were bared in rage. “
Now
it’s over.”

Chapter Nineteen

“God, I’m glad you didn’t really sell this place.”

Sage’s husky murmur resonated against Garrett’s chest as the last rays of the sunset disappeared over the lake. They left behind a sky that looked like a watercolor, too good to be real. Whipped cream clouds danced with shades of lavender, orange and amber over the silhouetted trees, and were reflected in the calm ripples along the water outside.

Inside the condo, where they nestled on the couch with each other, Garrett chuckled quietly while twirling a strand of her hair around his fingers. He’d never get tired of ending their days like this. Though the last week had been an insane whirl of debriefs at the base, another round of media for Sage, and checking in at the hospital with Z at least once a day, they’d made sure to slot this time together at or near sunset.

Okay, so most nights, the couch cuddle hadn’t been exactly the “end” of their day. It led to ways that formed an even better conclusion for them both.
Way
better. Garrett and his new alter ego, who’d fast earned the title “Sir G” from Sage, were becoming fast comrades in the quest of bringing their woman a world of submissive pleasure. The stockpile in the nightstand now included a couple of mini floggers, nipple clamps, a remote-operated vibrator, several anal insertables, and lots of scented lube. And he wanted more. Much more.

He only hoped she could handle more—because tonight, she was going to get it.

Just the thought of his little surprise made Garrett shift a little, concertedly commanding the rocket jet between his legs to hold on to its fucking fuse. Sage pulled away from him a bit, crunching her brow in a frown. “I’m sorry, baby. I walked in here and instantly started talking about my visit with Ray at the hospital. I spaced on dinner. You’re probably hungry, right?”

“Nope.” Garrett smiled softly at her. “Not hungry. I grabbed something late this afternoon. Figured you’d be eating with Rayna. How’s she doing?”
Sage gave a little shrug. “She’s talking to the counselors every day. She’s in the business of saving lives, not shooting people, no matter how much she hated King. It’s a lot for her to deal with right now. But focusing on Z is helping her, for sure.”

“That’s good. Real good. And how is Sergeant Hayes himself coming along, besides grouchy as fuck?”

Sage laughed. “He’s still grouchy as fuck. He’ll probably be out tomorrow, in time to wreak hell on Rayna’s weekend.”
The affectionate tone of her voice actually shifted him into a serious mien. “Z doesn’t say too much to me about her, you know.”

“About Rayna?” When Garrett nodded, she pressed, “So what does that mean?”

“That he’s ass-over-elbows nuts about her.”

“Oh.” She flashed an adorably girlish grin. “Awesome!” The smile dropped when he didn’t deviate his gaze from her. He could keep up the cover on a mission for days if he had to, but keeping this surprise from her tonight was damn-near killing him. Maybe it was because his cock had been invested in the fun since about three this afternoon. “Are you sure you aren’t hungry?” she insisted. “You look really hungry.”

Garrett answered with a small, wolfish grin. He tangled his fingers deeper into her hair, using the hold to dip her head back, exposing her neck to him. He leaned and gently scored her skin with his top teeth. “Oh, I
am
hungry.”

“Mmmmm.” She brought her hands up to his head too. “I think I can help out with that craving, Sir G.”

Garrett shook his head. He pulled up so he could gaze into her brilliant green eyes again. “Uh-uh. No Sir G tonight, sugar.”

Sage stuck out her lower lip. “What? Why not?”

“Because I want you to call me something else.”

“All right. Ummm…what?”

He shook his head again, intentionally slow and wicked about it. “You don’t get to find out until you go upstairs.”

Her answering huff was a tantalizing tease of its own. “Garrett!” she protested. “Not even a hint?”

He twisted his hold harder in her hair. “Every second you sit here sassing me, sugar, is another second of discipline I get to take from you later.”

That caused her eyebrows to jump. “Dih—dih—discipline?”

Garrett forced back his smile this time. He set her free before rising to his feet and folding his arms. “You’re still wasting time on sass.”

Sage popped up from the couch. “All right; okay. I get it!”

“Bedroom,” he called as she sprang for the stairs. “Follow
every
instruction on the note I left for you.”

“Yes, Sir!”
He finally bared the smile as he walked down the hall to the guest bedroom. During the trip, he cracked open a door in his mind, enough to let Sir G slip into the fray. Hell, this was going to be fun.

Chapter Twenty

Sage stood at the door of the guest bedroom, shifting a little on her bare feet, nervous as hell.

“This is ridiculous,” she groused beneath her breath. “You’re being stupid, Weston. It’s just Garrett. You know him. You love him. You’re getting married. In June. You have a date and a church already, and—”

She stopped herself on a rickety moan. Oh God. She was surely going to hell. Had she actually just talked about walking into a church to get married, when she stood here dressed in nothing but a barely-there black leather bra and a pair of matching panties that covered even less? And did the tissues between her thighs actually quiver and get creamier with arousal, as she looked again at the note in her hand? Granted, the words were now a little smeared because she’d picked it up and read it about a hundred times since finding it on their bed…

Use the fresh razor in the shower. Shave yourself
everywhere.
Put your hair up.

When you’re done, come to me in the guest bedroom.

Wear only what I’ve placed here.

Master

She ran a finger over that last word in open amazement…and growing, heated arousal. “Master,” she whispered.

Shit on a gigantic platter. She had to be dreaming this, right? She was going to wake up on the couch, having fallen asleep on Garrett’s chest, and embarrassed because she’d drooled all over him. This couldn’t really be happening. This was surreal, insane; a manifestation of her deepest sexual fantasies…

Nope. Wrong.

He
was a manifestation of those fantasies.

He was leaning in the doorway to the guest bathroom, waiting for her in sensual silence. Oh, who was she kidding? “Sensual” was the world’s hugest understatement for the creature who stood before her now, with smoke in his eyes, half a smile on his lips, and soft black leather sheathing his huge, chiseled legs. From the waist up, he was sinfully bare, every striation of his golden muscles gleaming in the light of what seemed a thousand candles.

Candles.

After noticing how their light danced on Garrett’s body, Sage noticed the votives themselves. Indeed there seemed to be thousands, all lighted and placed on frosted glass shelves that had been mounted at various heights along the perimeter of the room. Shit, the room! Even it had been transformed. The guest bed was still here, though she barely recognized the thing. In place of its demure art deco comforter, the mattress was now fitted with a tight cover in a shade of royal blue, in what looked like a leather texture. A steel truss system rose up around the bed, with several attachments already in place…including leather cuffs that seemed to wave at her in welcome. She swung her stare over to take in even more. In the corner opposite the bed, there was a big X-shaped cross just like the one she and Garrett had used at King’s Medina kink mansion, along with another piece of equipment that appeared kind of like a prayer bench, lined in dark purple velvet.

Wow. Wow.
Wow.

Okay, maybe she already was in church. Or Heaven. Or a wild, glorious combination of the two.

“Damn,” she finally got out. “Garrett…sweetheart…this is—”

“Just the beginning.” He cut her off as he pushed away from the door and stepped over, his strides given a more menacing air by the heavy motorcycling boots he wore. “That is, if tonight goes well.”
She laughed, trying to make light of the fact that his boots alone had just made her more wet than the Puget Sound in January. “Oh, I definitely think it—”

He snatched her words from her again, along with the very breath behind them, by grabbing her chin with his palm and hitching her face up. His stare sent a long lick of blue fire straight to the deepest parts of her pussy. “You’re not in here to think, S.” His murmur smoldered hotter than his stare, descending deeper as he addressed the confusion that must have risen in her eyes. “Do you have any questions about that?”

She managed to get enough moisture into her mouth to speak. “Are—are you saying you want to go further with this, Sir?”

He smoothed his fingers across her face. His gaze consumed her with its fierce possession, and its pure adoration. “Oh yes, sugar.”

She swallowed hard. “H-how much further?”

“That’s a journey we’ll take together. It’ll be in steps. But listen to me, and hear my promise to you. My need to dominate you will
never
quell my need to make you happy, to make you soar.” He pressed a soft kiss on her lips. “To keep you safe.”

Sage smiled. “I know.” She raised her hand, meshing her fingers with his. “So…what happens now?”

Garrett let their hands fall apart. Gone was the cameo appearance from his gentle Dom. The hard-hewn conqueror was back, standing before her with an agenda in his eyes. An agenda that didn’t involve a lot of couch cuddling anymore.

Shit.
Shit.

“Kneel for me, Sage.”

Yes.
Yes.

That simple act pulled her mind and body into deeper focus on him. She heard his quiet rumble of satisfaction, and rejoiced. She felt him step to her again, and melted. As his long fingers descended atop her head, a long sigh left her trembling lips.

“From now on, when you choose to come in here with me, you are no longer Sage. You will be only S. And I will be simply Master. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, Master.”

 “We’ll certainly discuss things that Sage has done, perhaps to address how she’ll be disciplined for them, but Sage herself belongs to that world, out there. She belongs to the place where you have to worry, to think, to care. S does none of those things. In her, Master does the worrying. S is here merely to be a receptacle of things on Sage’s behalf.” His hand spread harder against her scalp. “Do you still understand?”  

She lifted her face. Dear sweet God, if this man was stunning as Garrett, he was resplendent as Master. Every inch of his gaze exuded power, strength, control. He was huge and mighty and confident, yet every molecule of air he breathed on her, every inch of his touch on her, was composed of his loving care, his fervent protectiveness. She was terrified of him like this, yet her body, her senses, her very blood and breath never wanted him more.