Page 90 of At Her Pleasure
Tiger didn’t smile. “Not the best time to make a joke. If me, Lawrence and Neil believe you’re a danger to Cyn, to any of our women, no one will find your body. And don’t give me another round of the ‘none of it will touch her’ bullshit. Because I know how that goes.”
Yeah. He did, too. Which was why he kept clinging so grimly to his resolve to leave New Orleans when he’d planned to. Not one moment later.
Or sooner, guilt whispered.
“If you feel that way, why did you invite me to stay on your property?”
Tiger grimaced. “Because of what doesn’t fit with the stink. You’re crazy in love with her, and it’s killing you, because of what has hold of you. That conflict hit too close to home tonight, and turned that session into a shitshow.”
He wasn’t sure if hearing it out loud made him feel better or worse, so he stayed silent. Tiger sat back again. “So why did you really want me to stay behind with you?”
“I need a favor, though I know I’ve done nothing to deserve any. I need to borrow a vehicle. I’ll bring it back to you before I wrestle this old girl to a campground.”
“Don’t like our place?”
Mick had enjoyed the tranquility of the spot. The idea of doing it again appealed, given how worked up he was inside. But even so… “I’m usually good at picking up signals. I thought I was receiving a stay-the-fuck-away one from you.”
“We’d rather have you where we can keep an eye on you until you leave town. Your head’s screwed up on the signal issue.” Tiger shot him a frank look. “Which is why you should stay away from Cyn right now.”
“I need to see her, and it needs to be tonight,” Mick said bluntly. “I could Uber it, but since she’s likely to kick me out after I say what I need to say, I’d rather not wait on her curb for one to come back and get me.”
“The vehicle I can handle, but I don’t have her address. Skye’s never been to her place. None of them have.”
At Mick’s disbelieving expression, Tiger lifted a shoulder. “They’re Dommes. They understand why certain boundaries matter, and when to cross them. They’ve never needed to cross that one.”
“Okay. Will you still loan me a vehicle?”
“Going to try to get her to tell you where she lives?” Tiger’s expression said how likely that attempt was to succeed.
Mick made himself meet the other man’s gaze. “I know where she lives.”
He’d known within a few hours of running into her again. The same way he’d known about Lawrence’s alcoholic ex, Tiger’s criminal background, and a lot of other details about the TRA women and the men in their lives.
Yeah, certain boundaries mattered, but crossing this one was the least of his crimes. He hadn’t gone to Cyn’s home, but he’d memorized the address.
Showing he understood what the reveal meant, Tiger’s gaze hardened, but Mick didn’t let his falter. He knew he had to give the man more of himself on it, though.
He’d never allowed himself to entertain any thoughts of his and Cyn’s reunion beyond this week, but he’d sure as hell spent time piecing together ways to keep her in his sights.
“Once I leave, I thought I could call up satellite captures of her place. Or if I came close to New Orleans again, I’d use my drone to catch her sitting on the balcony of what’s probably a posh townhome, having her favorite drink.”
He was betting Jack or Jim. Maybe he’d see her comings and goings, heading out to Progeny for a session with some lucky prick like Sy. Wearing those sleek outfits she looked so good in.
“I’d probably be pathetic enough to zoom in on her porch deliveries. Specialty foods, new clothes. Subscription boxes from Inquisition-Reenactors.com.”
Tiger’s lips twitched, but there was no humor in his eyes. Nor in Mick’s.
“Vera’s right,” Mick said. “I know what she came from. Keeping her and the life she’s built here safe means more to me than breathing. If I thought I was going to screw that up, I’d dig my own grave so you, Neil and Lawrence could put me in it.”
Tiger’s large, booted feet rocked back and forth. The fingers resting along the top of the couch twitched. Mick could well imagine that hand holding a gun. Or choking the life out of someone who threatened his beautiful Mistress or the people they called family. He could respect that.
“I have a truck you can borrow,” the biker said at last.
* * *
After Mick changed into a black button down and jeans, more appropriate wear to meet a Mistress, Tiger drove him and the motorhome to his business, Roseland Garage. He had a small Toyota pickup there, an old one but it ran well. He’d take Mick’s motorhome back to his and Skye’s place. Mick would bring the truck back there.
Skye followed them in her Mustang, telling Mick that Tiger had brought her in on the plan. Mick wasn’t dumb enough to assume her assistance was an endorsement, but when they reached Tiger’s garage and Tiger handed Mick the keys to the Toyota, her parting words weren’t as discouraging as he’d feared. Hearing them in James Earl Jones’s deep voice didn’t hurt, either.