She closed her eyes against his appeal, and then bent and gripped his arms, pulling him back to his feet. “I’m sorry, guard dog. But we’ve had our fun, you and me.” She lowered her voice, wanting to hold him, to soften the blow. “I explained my reasons, Ben. They haven’t changed.”
His jaw went rigid, but she shook her head when his mouth opened. And turning on her heel, she walked away.
Chapter Six
“Anne, you made it!” Sally swung the door wide.
“I did. How are you doing? Are your Doms due back soon?” Anne smiled at the short brunette, pleased to see her looking so content. Sally had searched for the right Dom for years and despaired of finding one as smart as she was, one who could keep up with her mischievous nature, one who she could trust with everything she was.
Watching Vance and Galen take her under command—and fall in love with her—had been incredibly heartwarming.
“They’re not gone for long,” Sally said. “Come on in. I found some good stuff to watch.”
Anne followed her through the beautiful foyer, past the game room with every toy known to man, and to the great room in the back, which was dark. “Weren’t Beth and Gabi able to come?”
“Oh…they were,” Sally said and flipped the light switch.
“Happy Birthday!”
Anne dropped into a fighting stance at the roar of sound. Women…everywhere. On the long sectional, on chairs, sitting on the floor. All members of the Shadowlands. All grinning at her.
“Wh-what?” Anne actually stammered.
Gabi and Uzuri exchanged high-fives.
“Girl, is this your first surprise party?” Sally slung an arm around her and pulled her forward. “Happy birthday!”
A birthday party. The feeling was like stepping off an unnoticed curb, feeling the ground drop away, being disorientated, stumbling.
Aside from family gatherings, she hadn’t had a birthday party since she was ten.
“I… This is lovely.” She looked around. Gabi, Kim, Uzuri, Linda, Beth, and Jessica were lounging on the U-shaped sectional. Andrea and Rainie had chairs. Cat, Olivia, and Kari were seated on the floor. Shadowkittens and Dommes. Quite the mixture.
“It’s about time you arrived,” Olivia said from the floor. “We’re critiquing porn techniques.”
Anne glanced at the wide-screen television where a fairly studly male was bending over a naked female. She frowned. “He’s going to kill the woman tying her like that.”
“See?” Andrea waved her hand at Kim. “That’s what I said. Scarves get too thin and dig in too much and are impossible to unknot.”
“True enough,” Kim answered, “And he’s doing it wrong. But I still think scarves are hot.”
“The bondage is bad enough.” Gabi tugged at her blue-streaked strand of hair. “But the dialogue? That’s seriously lame.”
“Birthday cake soon,” Sally announced to the room. “What are you drinking, Anne? I have margaritas, beer, wine, and sodas.”
Margaritas? Anne’s mouth almost watered. Dammit. “I’d love a margarita, but I can’t. An informant called, so I scheduled my bail bond recovery team to get together at four a.m. We’re almost out of time before forfeiture of the bond, so we have to get the skip now—which means no alcohol for me.” She couldn’t afford to be impaired.
“Aww, that’s too bad.” Sally gave her a sympathetic hug. “Diet Coke then?”
“’Fraid so.” Mistresses don’t pout. She totally wanted to sulk.
“Sit over here, Anne.” Olivia patted the floor beside her.
Anne navigated her way across the room, getting hugs and hand squeezes from everyone. By the time she sat down between Olivia and Kari, a warm candle of happiness glowed in her chest. Friends. A birthday party. Who knew?
“Oh, baby. Take me.” On the television, the actor pushed the actress’s legs apart with little finesse, accompanied by groaning—from the Shadowkittens.
Jessica joined the actor in another groan of “Oh, baby,” before throwing a potato chip at the television. “Gag me. They need better script writers.”
“It must be difficult to write sex dialogue, don’t you think?” Linda was around forty and often served as the voice of reason, even when well hammered. “I mean, how many of your men talk during the…act? I’d have to admit, Sam isn’t exactly chatty.”
Anne sputtered a laugh. Linda’s silver-haired rancher had terse down to a science—and he’d totally whip his submissive’s ass if he knew she’d shared. Not that anyone was about to tell him.