The Dom with the Kink Monsters (Badass Brats) (16 page)

“Have you been playing, Saya?”

The girl’s gaze dropped to her matching pink Mary
Janes.

“I was playing with her for a sec. Was I not supposed to?”

He looked at Winter and raised a brow. “I guess I didn’t say you couldn’t. Are you both suffering now?”

“Yes, Master.” Saya
pouted.

Winter glared at him and waved him away. “There’s one more you should see.”

“I have to leave and you’re staying in here with her?”

“This is
a store, not a pay-by-the-hour motel. I’m just going to help her change, unlike some Doms I know.”

“Like you only helped her change a few minutes ago?”

“We won’t do more than that. We’re both too sore.”

He opened his mouth to prompt her to say
“Sir” but realized he was jumping the gun there. A lot.

They stared at each
other for ages. He’d touched her, fucked her, but she was still keeping him at arm’s length.

Ramsay inched closer but she held her ground, not retreating into the chang
ing room with Saya, who watched, looking amused. He wasn’t sure what Saya was expecting him to do, but she was anticipating a show.

“Trouble?” Mack’s voice so close to his ear made his balls tighten.

“Aren’t they always?”

Mack’s eyebrow quirked. “I’m more than willing to punish them for you, Ramsay. Say the word and I can make them very sorry girls.”

“You’re so fucking creepy, Mack.” Winter shook her head in mock disapproval.

“You like me creepy.” He winked.

“You guys need any help?” Another voice came from behind them. Cross. He was laughing. “Winter, did I ever tell you about the time I caught Q and Sabrina making out in one of the changing rooms?”

“Oh, like you, Gemma and Izzy never have?”

The wicked gleam in his eye was enough of an answer.

“Store owner’s prerogative
,” Malachi said from the counter and shrugged. “We’ve christened the tattoo shop a few times, my girls and I.”

“What a coincidence.”
Cross smirked.

“Cross, you bastar
d, have you fucked Gemma in my shop?”

“Yes, but I own the building, right, so technically
...”

Malachi swore and started to laugh, then tried to get Cross in a headlock, which resulted in him hanging awkwardly from his neck.

“Do you two need some alone time?” Winter asked sweetly. “We can take off, if you want to lock up and go at it.”

“Fuck off, my dear,” Malachi said affectionately. “I get enough sex. The last thing I need is to screw this ugly bastard.”

“Gemma and Izzy told me that I’m pretty and you’re just jealous,” Cross asserted.

“Yes, you’re lovely. When you’re a famous supermodel
, you’d better not forget the little people.”

“Little? These nice folks don’t need to hear about the size of your dick.”

“I’ll show you the size of my dick, up close and personal.”

“Hang on while I grab my microscope and tweezers.
”

Ramsay watched the exchange, amused, but overwhelmed by the dynamics. He
knew a few other Doms from when they lived in Cali, but he wasn’t used to chumming around with them like this. Most of his adult life had been he and Saya alone, focused on each other.

“Is this for your gig tonight, Winter?” Cross asked.

“Yup. We had Saya in a little white dress last night, but she needs something new.”

“I might have the perfect thing. Just came in this morning.” He looked Saya up and down with a professional eye and went into the back.

“We should send her out in pigtails tonight,” Mack mused.

“Like I don’t get enough creepy propositions without them?” Saya smoothed the hem of the pink dress.

It was true. The way the audience had looked at her the night before had made Ramsay want to shove her behind him so he could protect her. They’d all joked about dressing her up for shows while they’d spent weeks practicing, but she’d come to him on her own and insisted they do it. Anything to help the band get a leg up, including exploiting herself. Music had never been her passion the way dance was, but she knew how important this was to him. Saya was just that kind of girl.

When Cross
returned, he was shaking out a short red cape with a hood.

Winter’s evil laugh when she saw it had
Ramsay reaching for his wallet.

*

The rhythm poured through him, funneling through the erratically lit room, a tide of audio violence that nourished the crowd with its virulent energy. He could see little past the drums, the occasional glimpse of his lovers as they stalked the stage, adding their own thrums, screeches, growls and wails to the wild cacophony that they somehow moulded into music. Raw, vicious, evil. It sucked him in, digested his essence, vomited him back out.

Between songs, Little Red Riding Hood would appear at his side, pressing against him, groping him through his jeans, running fingers up under his t-shirt. No one could see what she was doing past the drums. She was a mess, but sounded like such a sweet girl tonight, longing, desperate.

The crowd wanted to eat her alive. Half of them would probably sustain wanking injuries after the show.

Before they rolled into yet another song, Saya went to Winter and kissed her on the lips. Winter twisted a hand in her hair and kissed her back hard. The spectators roared and
Sprawl reverberated with their approval.

Capitalizing on the primeval vibe rolling off the crowd, Ramsay beat his way through the intro of their most aggressive song
,
Suffer
. The others crashed in, Mack screaming like a lunatic while Saya’s voice was quiet, pleading.

She screams, her tears lovely (make me beg)

More beautiful in the reflection of my blade (only you see me)

The fear in her eyes

The evil festering in my soul (the suffering you bring)

Blood drips and I’m lost in her pain

Mine to do with as I will (Master, i am yours)

Suffer (moans)

No one hates me more than me

She plays with my demons

Fuck, his cock was hard. They’d worked her up at their apartment before the show, knowing they’d have no private access to the green room
. Then, after they’d arrived, he’d sat her in his lap while they waited for their turn, touching her when no one was looking. He’d sent her to the restroom with Winter five minutes before they hit the stage, where Winter reported they’d made out in one of the stalls.

As the song jammed to its natural halt
, the growl of the crowd took over where silence would have been. He looked up just as someone jumped the stage. Another stage dive. There were a lot of those when they played, which he felt was a mark of approval.

The guy
didn’t jump off again. Instead, he went straight for Saya. Ramsay bolted off of his stool, but the man had grabbed her by the arm, hard enough to make her cry out. As Ramsay ran toward them, the man tried to kiss her. He got to her side at the same moment that Mack drove a fist into the assailant’s face. The jackass hit the floor like a bag of dirt, banging his head on the painted plywood. Security dragged him off, but several other guys followed, looking like they were going to curb stomp him in the parking lot.

Ramsay had to follow
. The rage that boiled up inside him demanded that he kick the guy’s ass, personally. In all of their time together, no other man had ever laid a violent hand on his woman, and he was damned if he was going to let this slide. He kissed Saya’s forehead and told her to stay inside with Winter, to go to the green room. Their set was over anyway. Mack chased him out, trying to convince him not to beat the guy to death, but Mack didn’t look calm either.

When they got to the street, friends had spirited the guy away. A frustrated helplessness burned at Ramsay. He asked around to see if anyone knew if th
e guy was a regular, or knew where he lived. No one knew him.

Mack coaxed him back to the green room. Saya was upset, but more because
Ramsay had taken off than anything else. The girls held each other, Saya half-draped over Winter’s lap. Another band had taken it upon themselves to keep an eye on them until Ramsay and Mack returned, just in case the guy showed up again. Ramsay thanked them.

They packed up fast
and the other band left to give them privacy. There was a knock.

When Mack opened the door, Law and Luther stood there, their expressions dour.

“I’m sorry, Saya. That should never have happened. The next time you guys play here we’ll make sure we have extra security watching the stage.”

“That asshole is banned for life.” Luther looked personally affronted. “Stupid misogynist fucktard. Guys like that give metalheads a bad reputation.”

“You guys kicked ass, though. I’d say you were twice as good as the other bands we had out tonight. Considering two of them used to be my favorites, that’s saying something.” Law smiled grimly.

“Thanks,” Mack replied. The girls smiled back at them, which made Ramsay feel a little crazy.
Why couldn’t the bar owners be ugly or ancient? He had to get all of them the fuck out of there.

“Sorry, we have to go.” He urged the gi
rls up and past the owners, not caring if it was rude, even considering the chance they’d given them.

“Ramsay, I take personal responsibility for what happened,” Luther said, following them to the door. “If it’s any consolation, he got his ass beaten in the parking lot.”

“I’m not pissed at you or Law. I just have to get her home and calm the fuck down. Did you see her arm? His handprint is a big purple bruise there. I wish I knew where that fucker lived.” They clasped hands briefly. “We’ll come get the rest of our shit tomorrow.”

“Sure. See you then.”

Mack insisted on driving, which suited Ramsay just fine. He was too pissed off to be behind the wheel. Instead he sat in the back with Saya, holding her close and kissing her head, her palms, her nose, as she tried to reassure him, too.

The short drive to their apartment seemed to take forever. In his mind, Ramsay had killed the guy who’d attacked Saya about fifty different ways before they pulled into the driveway. She seemed fine, but he was anything but.

When they got in, Mack settled them on the couch and took the initiative of making them drinks. Just the one drink helped bring things into perspective.

“That’s what we’re going to have to do.” He broke into the middle of a conversation. “Saya has to drop out. I can’t keep her safe if I’m playing. I’m too far away.”

“We can keep her safe, Ramsay. Between Winter and me, and the added security, it’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want to quit, Master. It’s fun.” She stroked his arm, trying to calm him and change his mind.

“That’s right, Saya. Don’t quit. You’re like our not-so-secret ingredient. We were good without you, but with you we’re un-fucking-believable.”

Anger crested, snapping in his head. “Mack, are you encouraging my slave to disobey me?” Ramsay was on his feet, dragging Mack up by the front of his shirt before he knew what his hands were doing. Mack set his drink down fast, and it slopped over the side of the glass to dribble down the edge of the table.

Mack didn’t back down. He looked him in the eye, challenging. “You can’t control every aspect of her life, Ramsay. She’s a person. If she wants to play, let her. She loves it and she makes us way better than we were with just the three of us.”

Ramsay yanked Mack into his personal space, staring him down. “You watch your step with me, you little fuck. She’s mine. I make the fucking rules. You shut the fuck up.”

He felt Mack’s hands hit his chest a second before he shoved him. He stumbled back, grabbing Mack’s shirt for balance. They both fell over the edge of the chair and onto the floor. There was a crash, but Ramsay didn’t know what they’d broken.

They rolled, grunting, grappling.

“I can say whatever the fuck I want, you pompous asshat.” Mack gasped for breath. “You can’t control everyone.”

“I can control you.” Ramsay growled. He pinned Mack to the floor with a hand on his neck, straddling his hips. Mack tried to throw him off, but he was stuck. He squirmed beneath Ramsay, helpless.

With a pulse that thundered in ears that still rang from their performance, he looked down into Mack’s dark gaze. It was the eyes that drew him in, angry, frustrated, horny. Or maybe he was just seeing a reflection of what he felt.

He pressed his forehead to Mack’s. “You don’t interfere with my rules for Saya, do you understand, Mack? If this is going to work, you need to remember your place.”

“My place?” he parroted back, sounding irritated. “What place is that? Kneeling at your feet with your cock in my mouth?”

“Your place is whatever I say it is. Either you learn to obey me, or whatever is going on between us is done.”