The Greatest Risk

  “For her,” he went on, tipping his head toward the pool. “That guy you got her, he rocks it. But he’s not you. And she might be okay with that for now, but that’s not gonna last. She’s gonna need it from you.”

  Stellan straightened, now feeling his face get hard, and turned to Olly.

  “This really has nothing to do with you,” he said low.

  “I know,” Olly replied genially, but still uncomfortably. “But I saw it. Leigh saw it. Everyone else was watching her sub. We were watching Sixx. And she was looking at him. But she was thinking of you.”

  “You might not understand this, but that’s the point.”

  “I do understand it, Stellan, and I’d say I’m in the position to understand it more than you,” he returned quietly.

  Stellan made no reply because the friendly, helpful bastard was right.

  “She switching for you?” Olly asked.

  “If Sixx shares that with Leigh, that’s her prerogative. But no offense, Olly, it’s not mine to share with you.”

  “She’s switching for you,” he muttered.

  Now Stellan was getting angry.

  “We had a rough start,” he reminded Olly. “We smoothed that out. Leigh means a great deal to me, I’d prefer that something didn’t happen to change where you and I are at.”

  “I would too, and not just because Leigh thinks the world of you but because you’re a solid guy and I like you. She wants you to be happy, and I’ll give you it honestly, I do too. I don’t know Sixx very well. She’s a pretty closed book. But this is making Leigh happy, and if it does that for her, it does it for me.”

  When he said nothing more, Stellan asked, “Why do I think you’re not finished?”

  “Because I know you got it in you, man, to go the distance to give the one you’ve obviously decided is the one everything she needs, and we both know how I know that. Whatever Sixx is working through, I’m standing here as your friend telling you, don’t play games. The stakes are too high. I’ve watched her work. Thin stream of seriously fucking chilly that’s not my gig but has most the male subs gagging for it. Today, quick thaw. It was all about heat. But her doin’ that guy, playin’ it like that, and she doesn’t lay a finger on him—my guess, and I’m thinkin’ it’s a pretty fuckin’ accurate one, that no-touch business was at your demand, then clearing out like she did, she’s dealing with something deep. You fuck around when you got a woman whose head is jacked up, she’ll slip through your fingers.”

  “I’m not sixteen with my first crush,” Stellan returned.

  “I nearly lost her.”

  Stellan drew a sharp breath in through his nose at this blunt sharing, but he said nothing.

  “I had shit jacking with my head, and I didn’t give it to my Leigh-Leigh. Instead I fucked it all up and nearly lost her.”

  “I don’t have shit jacking with my head,” Stellan pointed out.

  “I know. You got it goin’ on. What I’m saying is be Leigh.”

  Be Leigh.

  “She doesn’t play games, Stellan,” Olly continued. “It’s all out there. No matter who you are in Leigh’s life, if she’s feeling you, you know it.”

  “Sixx is not under any impression she doesn’t matter to me.”

  “Yeah. Today. But you built a gladiator pit for her, Stellan,” Olly said quietly. “And I’ve been watching your dance. You’ve barely looked at her in months. And we didn’t know why you did it until today, but you built a fuckin’ sex show for her that, according to Leigh, is raking in the green. You’re trying to tell me you’re not playing games?” He shook his head. “You got any clue how much she watches you?”

  Stellan looked back to Simone by the pool with Talia, Mira, Belle and Leigh, talking.

  She was smiling her cat’s smile that, when she was playing Mistress, would make any male sub or Dom instantly go hard.

  Out by his pool with her friends, it was different—no less appealing, just pretty.

  And sweet.

  But she still seemed removed.

  Protecting herself.

  Protecting herself from people who care about her.

  Which she would do.

  Because instinctually, since she’d never had that kind of bounty, she’d still know it was the worst kind of thing to lose.

  “How much does she watch me?” he whispered.

  “Any time you aren’t lookin’, man.”

  He knew she watched him.

  But not that much.

  That felt very good.

  And could go very badly.

  Right there, before his eyes, protecting herself from people who care about her.

  Yes, it could go very badly.

  “I never said it, and I’ll say it now,” Olly went on, changing the subject because he was a decent man and good at being a friend, and Stellan looked back to him. “I was outta line in the halls that night, gettin’ in your face. Should have shown you respect.”

  “You’re just being Olly now,” Stellan said slowly, not losing eye contact. “We both know who was out of line that night, and it wasn’t you.”

  Olly grinned at him.

  It didn’t take long before that grin faded.

  “Winning feels good until you look over at the loser. Makes you feel better when you see him get his win. Don’t fuck up your win, Stellan. And just sayin’, you got good from Leigh. But if you ever need me, bud, you got the same from me, and you know how to find me.”

  “Christ, next thing I know, you’re going to invite me for beers with you and Dillinger and your friend. The owner of the Bolt.”

  The grin came back.

  “Barclay,” he shared. “And we could use a Dom in our party. Get Aryas to pitch up. Start evening out our numbers. You guys could add the class.”

  Stellan did not return the smile. “You’re standing there for me, but you’re also standing there for her, and you should know it’s not unappreciated. You should also know, it’s unlikely I’ll take you up on your offer to find you should I need to talk to somebody. But that’s not unappreciated either. Last, you should know, I don’t drink beer. I don’t hang with the guys. I make money. I spend money. I travel. I read. I drink wine, Scotch and vodka martinis. I eat good food. And I fuck. But again, the offer is not unappreciated.”

  Olly burst out laughing.

  Not finished doing it, he said, “I eat good food too.”

  Stellan shook his head, turned it, and stilled when he saw they had five pairs of feminine eyes on them.

  Leigh’s looked soft and happy, her man and her friend who’d had a rough start standing together, talking, laughing.

  Simone’s looked guarded, like she thought what she was experiencing was happy, and she didn’t quite understand the feeling.

  “How about I round up all these lingering assholes who won’t get with the program and leave you alone with your woman so you can get some alone time with your woman?” Olly suggested, and Stellan looked back at him.

  “If you do that, I’ll buy you a yacht.”

  Olly again started chuckling. “Spread you put on today, Stellan, least I can do. Good party. Thanks for asking us.”

  “My pleasure,” Stellan murmured.

  Olly got close and clapped him on the back.

  Stellan didn’t share he was a handshake man. He just lifted up his chin.

  Olly strolled out.

  Stellan watched him go.

  “Lange, outta here. Say goodbye to her for me?”

  Stellan looked again to his side to see Ami, who Simone had wanted to stay for dinner, so he’d showered and put on clothes and stayed for dinner. He was standing there also in jeans, but he was wearing a lightweight, short-sleeved, pattern-on-white, cotton button-up.

  “You’re not on, Ami, and she’s right there. You’re welcome to say goodbye to her yourself.”

  “That’s not gonna happen.”

  Stellan’s attention on the man focused.

  Fuck.

  “You’re out,” Stellan
noted.

  “I’ll fight for her in the pit. But unless I’m invited to sit at your table like tonight, gotta ask you not to call me. Can’t do another scene with Sixx.”

  Stellan nodded. “I understand that.”

  “Not that it wasn’t good,” he assured. “It’s because it was too—”

  Today, quick thaw. It was all about heat.

  Stellan fought his teeth clenching.

  “As I said, Ami, I understand.”

  “Don’t know how you can watch, friend,” Ami muttered.

  Because she’s not allowed to touch anyone but me, he thought.

  “Because it makes her happy,” he said.

  Ami studied him intently.

  Then he jerked up his chin in understanding. “Yeah.”

  “I can also understand you leaving without speaking with her, but she might not.”

  Ami took a moment to think things over.

  Then he said, “If it takes time for you to find someone who can hack it without getting in too deep, I’m on call. I’ll keep my shit tight. But can’t do it too often, Lange. She’s yours. You get to keep that. I’m the one walking away. And I’m not so down with watching.”

  “I understand that too.”

  Ami’s head swung toward Simone, and he murmured, “Guess I’ll say goodnight.”

  That set Stellan again to fighting his teeth clenching.

  “Goodnight, Ami.”

  “Later, Lange.”

  Stellan watched Ami move toward the huddle of females that Olly was disbursing, and he kept tight hold on a variety of reactions when he saw the warmth in Simone’s face when she noticed Ami approaching.

  Fortunately, Olly recruited Leigh in the act of getting everyone to leave, and therefore this process didn’t take very long.

  Indeed, within twenty minutes, he was standing at his front door saying farewell to Belle, Tiffany, Penn and Shane, the last to leave.

  However, during this process, he noted that although Simone said her goodbyes and be safe driving homes with smiles, she didn’t stand at his side where she belonged while he did the same.

  The next time he’d be certain to share that instruction.

  He also noted that once she returned from standing by the pool, often her gaze would go to the staff Margarita had hired to come in late that afternoon to clear away the food, finish cooking the dinner Margarita had prepared, set the table, serve, clear away and tidy up.

  In fact, Stellan saw one of the two who’d arrived go to Simone and say something to which Simone nodded, and her gaze slid to Stellan before she disappeared with the woman only to return not long later to stand removed while Stellan watched the last partygoers away.

  When he shut the door, he started right to her.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Your … uh, catering people or whatever got everything sorted. Did a sweep of the pool area and all. They were ready to go, it’s late, I didn’t want to disturb you, so I gave them both a fifty dollar tip so they could head home.”

  This did not make Stellan happy.

  Therefore he frowned down at her when he stopped in front of her.

  “You should have disturbed me,” he said.

  “It’s all good.”

  “I’ll give you the cash later.”

  “It’s all good, Stellan.”

  There was no reason discussing it. They had other more important things to discuss—then do.

  He would simply give her the cash later.

  “Would you like another drink?” he asked.

  “Are we negotiating this deal you’ve been talking about now?” she asked back.

  “Yes,” he answered.

  “Then yes,” she replied.

  That made him grin.

  “Another martini?” he offered.

  She nodded.

  He went to the kitchen.

  He heard the sounds of her stilettos alternately hitting his tile then disappearing as she moved with him and traversed tile and rugs.

  She stopped opposite the island to him, so he moved the bottles and shaker to her.

  He made her gin martini first.

  Then the same for him with vodka.

  He said nothing while he did.

  She watched his hands the whole time he did.

  He wrapped his fingers around his martini glass, and after he’d taken a chill sip of the sharp drink, he murmured, “Ready?”

  Her brown eyes lifted to his. They were clear, not nervous, perhaps somewhat fatigued, which wasn’t surprising considering it was after eleven at night, but that was all.

  And that was good. She had no reason to be nervous with him, and she never would.

  Not at times like these.

  Other times, under his command … she’d relish the nerves, he’d see to it.

  Simone nodded.

  He took another sip before putting his glass down so that he could take her hand, fit it in the crook of his arm, take up his glass again, and start moving her to the stairs.

  “Where are these negotiations happening?” she asked when their direction became clear.

  “My bedroom.”

  “Hmm…” she hummed noncommittally.

  “In front of the fire,” he carried on, starting them moving slowly up the stairs.

  “You have a fireplace in your room?” she asked.

  “You didn’t see it?”

  “Sorry. I was too busy noticing your French count desk. I didn’t notice you had a fireplace too.”

  “My French count desk?” he queried.

  “You have a desk in your bedroom.”

  “I know.”

  “Only French counts have desks in their bedrooms.”

  “Really?” he murmured, not hiding his amusement.

  “French counts, English barons, and you.”

  Stellan started chuckling.

  “And when you say ‘in front of the fire,’ do you mean an actual fire?” she asked.

  “Of course,” he answered.

  “No one lights a fire in their bedroom in June in Arizona, Stellan.”

  “I do.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, her voice now sounding amused, but also soft, pensive, and Stellan had never heard it like that before.

  It was beautiful.

  “Only you,” she finished.

  He said nothing more as he guided her into his room, straight to the couch in front of the fire, and let her go. He opened the drawer in the end table to get the remote that activated the fire, hit the buttons so it was burning as he wanted it, and returned it. He then sat down in the middle of the couch, separated from where she had seated herself tucked tight into the corner.

  All right.

  Maybe she was nervous, and she was hiding it.

  “Did you come up here and turn on the lights?” she asked, glancing around his room, which was lit softly with a few lamps.

  “They’re on timers,” he answered.

  She looked to him. “Are they timed to turn off too?”

  “Only if I don’t turn them off before they’re timed to go off.”

  “So, essentially, even your bedroom is wired to welcome you.”

  He raised his brows. “Even my bedroom?”

  She shrugged, looked to the fire, took a sip of her drink, and said, “You’re rich. It shows. Like in your face, it shows. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t nice. Gracious.” Her gaze came back to him. “When I walked in earlier, I thought it looked like your house was decorated in, ‘Relax, I got you.’”

  That made Stellan burst out laughing.

  He was down to chuckling when he saw her again sipping her martini, watching him laugh from under her lashes, and he replied with feeling, “I’m delighted you think that.”

  She swallowed her sip, took her glass from her lips, looked him in the eye and declared, “We need to discuss Ami.”

  Stellan felt a clutch of something unpleasant in his chest, a sour taste at the back of his tongue and a low roar i
n his head.

  Earlier, he actually had been good watching Simone enjoy the toy that he himself had provided her.

  This was because he’d had practice.

  For months he’d watched her playing with her toys, biding his time, preparing, only going in when he was ready for the win.

  After she invited Ami to stay, and he saw them exchange a number of words over dinner, at the time, that had not affected him overly much.

  But after Ami’s hesitancy even to say goodbye to the Domme who’d worked him in a way that had moved him, which was not Simone’s normal technique, Stellan wasn’t feeling as at ease about the situation.

  “I asked him to stay for dinner because he seems freaking cool, when he’s naked and hard, and when he’s not,” she went on, these words not making Stellan any more at ease.

  Especially since she was finally right there. Up in his room in front of a fire, looking exquisitely tempting, wearing what amounted to a collar, with a drink in her hand, him at her side and their negotiation imminent. The negotiation of what could be the most important deal he’d brokered in his life.

  But she was talking about another man.

  “So I needed to get a sense of him when he’s not in a scene,” she continued. “In order that we can figure out who to set him up with.”

  Who to set him up with?

  Stellan’s head twitched. “Sorry?”

  “A Mistress,” she explained. “I’m sensing he wants something long term. Someone in the life and his life. But I don’t want to fix him up with someone who does his head in. So we have to vet them carefully, and I’m totally drawing a blank. I haven’t been paying a lot of attention to the new players at the Honey who came in since I was away. So we need to go to the club so you can give me the lowdown on them, and I can look them over. If there’s no one that works, we might have to go to the Bolt to get a sense of things. No stone unturned, as it were.”

  “You want to find a Domme for Ami.” The words were expressed as a statement even if they were a request for a confirmation.

  “Well … yeah. I mean, it’ll suck, he gets claimed and won’t be battling in the pit for me. So it’d be good we find one who’s loaded so she can pay for her throne and keep him down there because I think he gets off on that. Or,” her lips turned up slightly, “since you’re the big man there, maybe you can pull some strings. But she has to be right. I think some of the Mistresses he’s found haven’t been good with him. So we have to find that perfect balance. Good for him in the scene, and not crazy-psycho lady outside of it, or vice-versa.”