He paused, met Peter’s gaze. “Unlike Savannah and Cass, who really didn’t recognize their submission for what it was, I think Rachel’s even more hardcore than Dana. She’s gone for years knowing it, playing it out in her head without doing anything about it. It’s pretty obvious her husband wasn’t a Dom, and all signs suggest he didn’t handle it well. Though that can happen, no fault to him, he abused her trust, left her damaged. Her confidence is for shit and she’s way too fragile. Whatever happened in her marriage, he did a real number on her.”
Matt and Ben already knew about the Club More incident, because he’d filled them in as he told Leland he would. But as he related the bare bones of it, and some of his other general impressions, he saw the same hardness enter Peter’s and Lucas’ expressions that had entered theirs. No man in this room would tolerate a woman being mistreated, emotionally or physically. Dana had picked on them the most about it, called them a bunch of overprotective sexist Neanderthals. But there it was.
“I know her, but I know nothing about her. She’s that closed off. I wasn’t a complete idiot this time. I cleared it with Matt to have Shelley keep an eye on her, and she’ll do a discreet tail if she leaves to make sure she’s okay until I can go see her today.” He scowled, shook his head. “I told Rachel to come here, but I don’t know if she will. After I left, it probably took all of thirty minutes for her shields to go up again.”
“So burn them down next time. Ashes are a lot harder to reassemble.”
Jon flashed a grim smile at Matt’s flat comment. “That worked for Savannah because she’s as ruthless as you are. Plus, at a subconscious level, she already trusted you. Rachel’s got a lot going on in her head. She doesn’t trust anyone, even herself. I won’t completely kick the chair out from under her until I’m certain she knows that I’ll be there to catch her. I don’t want to make what’s already damaged worse.”
The men exchanged a significant look, then Lucas grinned. “The universe has aligned. Scorpio is in Pisces, or however the hell he’d say it. This is the one for him.”
Jon’s brow rose. “What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what he’s talking about.” Peter shook his head. “You probably knew it the second you found out she wasn’t married.”
Matt nodded despite Jon’s bland expression. “I’ve seen that look twice before. The first time was the night Lucas threw down his poker chips and said Cass would agree to marry him in twenty-four hours.”
“Cocky bastard,” Peter snorted.
Lucas shrugged but memory gleamed in his eye. “It worked.”
“With considerable help. Shock-and-awe tactics, bicycle boy.”
Lucas bared his teeth as Matt shifted his focus to Peter. “You were the second time. When you came back from Afghanistan and found out Dana was hurt and alone, you didn’t even put down your duffle bag before you were back out the door.”
“Three times,” Jon amended, conceding with a smile. “The night you told us you were tired of dicking around, that you were going after Savannah with the whole f*cking arsenal, quote, unquote.”
Matt inclined his head again, mouth set in a determined line. “Each of us may not know her name, but the moment she sets foot on our stage, we recognize her right off. Your whole life—every skill you’ve learned, as a Dom and as a member of this company—has prepared you to go after her. And you know exactly what kind of assets you have at your disposal.”
“A whole f*cking arsenal,” Jon muttered. “Speaking of which, we’re one short.”
“I’m here.” Ben’s voice drifted around the corner. “Too much ball-and-chain testosterone in that room. I’m staying clear so I don’t get caught in the epidemic. But if you need the kind of help I’m better equipped to provide than any of the rest, you know where to find me.”
“He means his ego, which is the size of Texas,” Lucas put in.
“Not only my ego,” Ben rebounded. Jon heard the snick of a laptop closing and then Ben appeared, flanking Peter. His emerald green eyes, impeccably tailored suit and sharply styled black hair made him every inch the legal pit bull Matt paid him to be.
The surge of reassurance was something Jon could admit—at least to himself—he needed. He had the head of the pack, the calculations wizard, the operations genius and the cutthroat lawyer on his side. And, from a woman’s point of view, that was the least of their combined gifts. As Matt had pointed out, he had a unique set of backup resources, ones he had a feeling would mesh well with Rachel’s as-yet-untapped gifts. Her sweet p-ssy had responded with a surge of cream when he’d painted those images in her mind last night.
Always before, he’d embraced something like this as a challenging puzzle, something he could patiently wait for the universe to reveal. He’d enjoy the journey, seeing a clear beginning and end. But they were right. This was different.
Before last night, he might have said the beginning was learning she wasn’t married. But that wasn’t true. All that spiritual discipline they teased him about, he’d applied with agonizing rigor over the past year. He’d meditated, immersed himself in late night inventing marathons, gone to their favored club and worked out sexual pressure in scenes with various submissives.
All tactics to handle the ache in his groin and the even more painful ache in his heart when they grew to be too much, like when he caught a glimpse of her smile, or the yearning behind her eyes. There’d been moments, such as when she touched him during the yoga nidra, that his Master’s instincts had shot forth so hard and strong, it had taken everything he had not to reach out with both hands and seize what she was subconsciously offering. Plunder that mouth, wrap his hands in her hair and take, take, take.
More than once, he’d considered not attending anymore, but something had kept him going back. So yesterday sure as hell hadn’t been the beginning. It had merely been the drill bit that had plunged into that vein of contained feelings. Emotions were exploding inside him like a full blown, out-of-control gusher.
Matt had called it with pinpoint accuracy. She’d stepped square onto his stage, and everything else was in darkness. In a matter of two days, she’d become the only purpose. Every step was vital. He needed to be careful, plan things out. Unfortunately, his instinct wanted to run her down like a mastiff breathing down the neck of a fleeing rabbit. He wasn’t used to being in that kind of mindset. He was the thinker, the fix-it guy. The big-picture guru.
His uneasiness must have shown in his face, for Ben sobered, a rare occurrence. “Seriously, man. You won’t fail.”
Matt flashed his trademark dangerous smile. “We never do.”
“Mr. Forte.” Janet, their supremely efficient admin, spoke through Jon’s speaker phone. “I know you’re in conference, but Rachel Madison is here to see you.”
She’d come, and much earlier than he expected. Every part of him reacted, muscles tensing like an eager predator at the end of a chain. He saw it reflected in their knowing glances. Still, trying for calm, Jon lifted a brow, glanced at Matt. “How does she do that? I never have to tell her anything. Not only did she know I wanted to see Rachel right away, she knew she should interrupt me, even if I was in a meeting with you all.”