She breathed out. God, how long could she put up with him? But he wouldn’t do anything. After all, he couldn’t run the place without her.

And she couldn’t leave. Rent was due. Her savings were gone. She needed the job.

Chapter Two

Aching with misery, Jake entered the main room of the still quiet Shadowlands BDSM club. As the mansion’s air-conditioning struggled against the evening heat, the humidity added to his weariness.

Pretty sad to be decades older than a two-year-old and to be craving a nap. But because of the clinic’s messed-up schedule, he’d put in twelve-hour days the entire week. And his last furry patient today had been…bad.

At the long, oval bar in the room’s center, Cullen and his submissive, Andrea, were concocting pitchers of drinks.

Jake eyed the water condensing on the outside of the crystal glass. The way he felt, a drink would be more satisfying than a scene. He slid onto a barstool. “You’re adding vodka to an energy drink?”

“A special for tonight’s glow party theme.” Cullen grinned. “The liquid shines under the black lights.” He patted the white T-shirt covering his massive chest. “And so will this. People need to be able to find the bartender.”

“Hate to say this, but no one’ll notice you with your gorgeous submissive around,” Jake noted.

Andrea wore a cut-off, white shirt that barely covered her full breasts. Her boy briefs curved delightfully over her round ass.

“This is true,” Cullen said in open agreement. “She is gorgeous, isn’t she?”

At her Master’s ready compliment, Andrea’s face brightened as if a ray of sunlight had caught it.

“So, buddy, Z wondered where you were.” Cullen put a few drops of blue food coloring into one pitcher. “You missed the Masters’ briefing.”

“I had an emergency surgery.” Jake’s gut tightened. “A puppy chased a cat onto the highway. The driver of the car tried to stop. Cat got across okay. Dog didn’t.”

Andrea turned, a stricken look on her face. “Is the puppy all right?”

“His hind leg is fractured, and he has internal injuries.” Jake sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “He might recover.” Or not. The wife had been in tears, and her husband pretty damn close.

“At least the dog had you to take care of him.” Andrea patted his hand.

Jake straightened, uncomfortable with her sympathy. A Dom should comfort submissives, not the other way around.

Obviously, his exhaustion had turned him into a wimp, or so his BDSM mentor would have said. Even in his sixties, the Marine Gunnery Sergeant had never admitted to tiredness…let alone depression over an injured pet.

Andrea put a bottle of water in front of him. “If you were in surgery, you probably didn’t get supper, did you?” An experienced submissive, she read the answer from his expression. “I thought not.”

She glanced at her Master and got a nod before heading for the munchie corner.

With an effort, Jake suppressed a surge of loneliness. Last year, he and Heather had been close enough to communicate without speaking. But when she’d dumped him for her career, he’d wondered if they’d truly communicated at all. She’d left so quickly that sometimes he felt as if he could still hear the door swing shut behind her.

Well, lesson learned. He’d be more careful next time.

“What was in the briefing?” he asked Cullen.

“The black lights stay on all night, and Z suggests light scenes. The theme rooms have normal lighting for those playing harder. He has some special floggers and paddles, too.”

“What’s special about them?”

Cullen snorted as he mixed tonic water with juice. “Sprayed with neon paint. Should make for interesting scenes.” He pointed to the white-linen-covered tables. “Also, there are glow paints. Submissives are to be decorated by Doms—can’t do it themselves. The trainees are wearing black underwear or the equivalent.”

Submissive painting. Glowing floggers. “Sounds like fun.”

“Could be. Trouble is, we’re short on Masters tonight. Dan’s vacationing with Kari and the baby. Marcus is stuck at the courthouse, waiting on a jury verdict. Raoul is flying back tonight from a construction job in Panama.” Cullen swiped up the few drops he’d spilled.

“Need an extra dungeon monitor?” He wasn’t scheduled, but he could handle it. He’d just shift gears from his expectation of a lazy evening to an active one.

“Yep.” Cullen thumped a gold-trimmed black leather monitor vest on top of the bar. “If you can cover the main room for an hour now and then again at midnight, I’d appreciate it. There’s no Trainee Master tonight, so we’re all watching out for them.”

“Got it.” With only three trainees left, keeping an eye on them wasn’t a problem.

When Z had set up the program for submissives needing increased immersion in the lifestyle, most of the Shadowlands Masters and Mistresses were single. Now, since only Mistress Anne, Jake, and Holt were unattached, the program was ending once the last trainee found a Dom. “Was there anything Z required them to work on?”

“Nope. Tonight is for fun and light play. They’re even to do their own scene negotiations. Good practice for them, actually.”

Jake pulled on the vest, amusement lightening his mood. “But since Z’s a mother hen, he asked us to check on them anyway.”

“Bingo.”

“Here, Master Jake.” Andrea placed a small plate piled with finger foods in front of him. “This should keep your furnace stoked for a while.”

Cullen is one lucky Dom. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

The sincerity of his gratitude made her smile.

He popped a mini-quiche into his mouth and considered his next bite.

“Master Cullen, I’m here.” The liltingly melodic voice came from beside him.

Jake glanced down to see Rainie at his shoulder, one beautifully curvy woman, about five-seven. Not too short, not too tall.

Unlike earlier in the week when she’d brought in the injured dog, she wasn’t dressed conservatively. In leather wrist cuffs, a black halter bra, and barely-there, black skirt, she was an explosion of light and color and softness, from her shoulder-length, brown hair streaked with bright gold and red, to the fountain-and-blossom tattoos that flowed upward beside her spine, over one shoulder, and down between her magnificent breasts.

Cullen poured a glass of juice and handed it to her. “Good to see you, sweetheart. Did you bring in cookies for the munchie corner?”

“Already there, Sir. I used Kari’s recipe, in fact.”

“Perfect. The caterers are good, but their sweets never taste like homemade.”

“Hello, Rainie,” Jake said, watching her closely. Considering she’d brought him her dog, would she still avoid him?

“Master Jake.” She took a step away from him, then her gaze fell on the plate in front of him. She frowned. “I didn’t think you liked crab cakes.”

“I don’t, but—”

She picked the mini crab cake from his plate and replaced it with the chocolate chip cookie in her hand. As she looked up at him, her hazel eyes were more brown than green in the dim light of the room. “I bet you’d prefer this.”

A cookie. His day brightened. “I’ve never met a cookie I didn’t like. How’d you know?”

“Master Z says we’re supposed to keep track of everyone’s preferences.” Rainie popped the crab cake in her mouth.

Her lips were as lush as the rest of her, and he tried not to imagine other things he’d like to feed her…like his cock. He’d managed to ignore the craving before this week, but after seeing her with the pup—well, women with soft hearts were irresistible.

However, a Master wasn’t worth much if he didn’t master himself. “Good job of paying attention, then.”

He studied her and decided not to ask about the dog he’d treated. He didn’t mind blending his two personas, but others tended to be more cautious, especially submissives. And from the classic-cut suit she’d worn in his clinic, he’d guess Rainie held down a good, conventional job.

In contrast, when relaxed in the Shadowlands, she had a warm earthiness to her, much like a vivid hearth goddess.

“Hey, everybody.” Jessica, the club owner’s pregnant wife, appeared on Rainie’s other side and beamed at Andrea. “Andrea, I love your outfit.”

“Gracias, Jessica.”

The little blonde turned her attention to Rainie and wrinkled her nose. “Boy, Z didn’t do you trainees any favors.”

“Boring, all right.” Rainie tugged on the black halter top, then her brow creased. “You look tired, girlfriend.”

“Nothing new.” Jessica cupped her big belly. “I carry a lead basketball around all day.”

“Then stop walking for a while.” With a snort, Rainie walked away.

She returned with a folding chair, set it behind the bar, and patted the seat. “Plant your butt.”

Jessica scowled. Stalled.

Jake had to agree with the trainee. “Jessica, sit,” he said quietly, knowing the effect the command would have on a trained submissive.