As he chuckled, he noticed a raised hand near the center of the room at the same time she did.
Galen was motioning for them to join him.
Anne nodded and headed that direction, her arm around Ben’s waist as if she wanted to be sure he was with her. Or didn’t trust him to walk in a straight line.
As they passed through the room, she greeted various members. Ben caught a wave from Rainie, spotted Z and Cullen watching from the bar, and smiled at Linda, who sat with her Dom, Sam.
Beth stopped Anne with news that the latest addition to the shelter was doing well, although her abusive husband and all his cohorts were raising a ruckus with the woman’s family and friends as they hunted for her.
Damn good thing the shelter was well hidden.
Galen and Vance rose as they approached. “Anne. Can you join us?” Galen asked. “I had a question about skip tracing.”
“Of course.”
The men resumed their chairs with their submissive Sally kneeling on the floor between them.
Anne took the chair across from them.
Ben figured he was probably supposed to go to his knees too. As he hesitated, he noticed Raoul nearby, supervising a scene with Kim kneeling beside him.
“Benjamin,” Anne murmured and glanced at her feet.
As he settled there, he decided he was good with the position. Here. In many ways, the Shadowlands felt like an erotic war zone with the same kind of power shifts, and aside from his knees expressing their annoyance, he liked kneeling for her.
Liked her hand in his hair.
When she shifted to trap him between her legs, he felt only satisfaction.
He turned so he could slide an arm around her hips. Her split skirt had fallen open, and he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, inhaling the fragrance of freshly clean skin and the lotion she used on her legs.
Instant turn-on since these scents marked his favorite erotic path. Starting here, he could travel upward and reach journey’s end. Or the beginning. He kissed an inch higher and caught the scent of her delicate musk.
When he tried for another inch, the Mistress smacked the back of his head and gave him a reprimanding look.
He could only grin. After any scene when she’d combined pain and pleasure, he’d noticed the strangest contentment, as if the bond between them would grow to encompass more than just hearts and souls. “Sorry, Ma’am.”
She huffed a laugh. “Such a bad subbie.” As she stroked his hair, he tilted his cheek into her hand as Bronx would. Hell, he’d be happy to be her pet.
Here, at least.
What did she think, though? What did she want? She was so bloody reserved. Fucking honest, yes, but getting past her defenses was akin to assaulting a medieval castle.
They needed to talk. Soon. But right now, his head was still on the fuzzy side. Discussions could wait. With a sigh, Ben contented himself with being close.
After a minute, he realized Raoul was watching them and frowning. Probably because he saw one well-used guy wearing only jeans, hair loose, with a bite mark on his neck. In contrast, Anne was perfectly made up and clean.
It undoubtedly looked as if she’d worked him over good without breaking a sweat. Without getting involved in the least.
He laughed silently. She looked so put together because she’d popped into the shower and cleaned up. In fact, she’d given him a half-smile as she did so, saying, “I have to uphold the honor of all Mistresses everywhere.”
He could have joined her, but his legs had felt like over-stretched rubberbands. And when she’d run her hands over his damp chest and said she’d enjoy showing off her sweaty submissive, he’d have denied her nothing.
Uzuri returned with their drinks.
Anne took the beer—a Brooklyn Lager—put it into Ben’s hand and accepted the water. “Thank you, Uzuri.”
As Anne fed him the food, taking only a few bites for herself, she, Galen, and Vance discussed search techniques, software she preferred for skip tracing, and tricks used in changing identities.
In a comfortable haze, Ben drank his beer. At some point, he realized he was leaning with all his weight against her legs—strong woman—while her fingertips traced patterns on his shoulders.
Yeah, he liked right where he was. And he’d think about the rest when his head was on straight.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Anne stood in her bathroom the next morning, counting off seconds as she watched the strip from the pregnancy kit.
Misery burned in her gut when she thought of the way she’d left Ben earlier.
He’d still been half-asleep when she’d slid out of his bed, kissed him, and told him she needed some quiet “alone” time. And that she’d see him on Monday.
“What the fuck?” he’d said. Waking completely, he’d tried to grab her hand, but she stepped away and firmed her resolve. Pulled on her Domme armor.