“That’s good to know, Apple.” He was a very pretty lad—and she couldn’t summon up an ounce of interest. She put a boot up on the long, dark wood table. “Right now, all I want is my second drink. Tell Master Cullen it’s for Mistress Anne, please.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” His look of disappointment was so intense, she felt like patting him on the cheek and saying, “There, there.”
But that would require moving.
Instead, she leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and listened to Seraphim Shock’s “After Dark,” the sinister music punctuated by the staccato sounds of the nearby caning. When she heard the thump of a glass on the end table, she held her hand out, palm up, and waggled her fingers. “In my hand, boy.”
He set the drink in her hand.
“Thank you.” One sip told her that Cullen had worked his usual magic. The silky smoothness of a perfectly chilled Manhattan eased her dry throat.
The chair beside her squeaked.
Excuse me? A slave dared sit in her presence? “Listen, boy…” She opened her eyes and met those of the owner of the Shadowlands.
“Good evening, Anne.” Gray eyes alight with amusement, he leaned back and set a foot next to hers on the coffee table.
Since he’d been nice enough to bring her a drink, she drank more of it. Lovely. “Sorry, Z. I thought you were someone named Apple.”
His lips twitched at the emphasis she gave to the name. “Did you have a craving to peel and core him?”
“Not even close. Today you could parade a few dozen eager submissives in front of me, and I still wouldn’t be motivated to move.” In fact, her limbs felt as if they were sinking into the furniture. “Actually, I’m not particularly interested in anyone these days.”
“Are you missing Joey?”
Joey had been her latest slave; the one she’d kept for the longest period. They’d had so much fun together…and then not so much fun. “Not really. Not anymore.”
“You never did tell me what happened.” Damn psychologist waited silently.
His tricks didn’t work on her. “No, I didn’t, did I?”
He huffed an easy laugh. “All right, Anne.” In the dim light of the wall sconces, his lean face showed only mild concern. “If your lack of interest in the available submissives isn’t due to your breakup, then have your interests changed?”
Changed. She rather despised that word. “Of course not.” Her eyes closed again. “The puppies just don’t seem particularly satisfying.” And some of them wanted more than she wanted to give.
“I see. Perhaps a different type of submissive might suit you better.”
Doubtful. She glanced at her watch. “I didn’t see you earlier. Did you just get here?”
“I’m running late, yes. Jessica worked overtime and was overtired when she arrived home.”
Oh, not good. Z’s wife was very, very pregnant. “Is she having problems?”
“She’s fine. I gave her a backrub and tucked her in.” He shook his head. “She’s the only person I know who finds enjoyment in IRS forms.”
Relieved, Anne relaxed. “Well, she is an accountant.” And due to deliver sometime in the next couple of weeks. Sooner would be good since Anne had picked a March date and “girl” in the Shadowlands’ betting pool.
“Indeed. A less dangerous job than some…like picking up bail fugitives.” He regarded her. “Ben said you were hurting.”
“Not so much at the moment.” Probably because she’d downed two pain pills an hour earlier. She lifted her glass and drained it. “Does your guard dog report everything?”
He tilted his head. “Actually, he acted more like your guard dog. He was worried about you, Anne.”
“Oh.” Why that should stop her brain for a second, she didn’t know. Then again, her brain wasn’t processing well. And the glass she held seemed exceedingly heavy.
Z rose and plucked it from her fingers.
“Hey.”
To her surprise, he sat down beside her on the couch and tilted her head. “Look at me, please.”
The command—that of a Dom—held a punch she could resist fairly easily. But his politeness? She couldn’t ever be rude to him. She met his gaze.
He studied her for a minute. “What did you take?”
“You’re such a psychologist. I took a couple of pain pills. After I finished monitoring.”
“Anne, I never doubted otherwise.” His easy agreement let her relax. “However, you’re in no shape to drive home.”