Not Negotiable: A Trident Security Series Novella - Book 3.5 (4 page)

“I think the blush color is perfect for you.” When the seamstress told her she was ready to pin her up, Shelby stepped over to the riser that Angie had come down from moments before. “And the dress is stunning. Devon is going to drool when he sees you.”

Jenn giggled as she sat next to Kristen. “Uncle Devon drools every time he sees her.”

“This is true.”

“So what about you, Shelby?” Jenn asked. “I know you’ve never been married, but did you ever come close?”

Keeping the rest of her body still for the seamstress, she shook her head. “Nope. And I don’t think I’ll ever get married.”

Kayla stepped off her riser. “Why not? Girl, you’ve got Doms tripping over themselves to get to you. Especially Parker.”

Parker. Just hearing his name made her moist and had her thinking back to that one kiss they’d shared. For a brief moment, she’d surrendered to him. Sometime in the past few months, she stopped trying to kid herself that she’d melted because he’d caught her off-guard. The real reason was the electricity which had shot from her lips to her pussy. Damn, that man could kiss. Hot. Wet. Demanding. She’d been about to give in and beg him to take her to bed before she remembered all the reasons why it was a bad idea. Then she’d cried herself to sleep after he’d walked out the door—and had avoided him ever since. With a very good possibility of her cancer coming back, she was convinced she’d made the right decision.

She shrugged her shoulder. “He’s nice, but I’m not looking for anything permanent. I like being single.” Shit. Even she didn’t believe that lie as she noticed the other women glancing at each other. Better nip this in the bud before they started their matchmaking. “Besides, we aren’t compatible. Yummy Carter is more my type and he’ll never settle down. I still can’t believe he killed those men who’d kidnapped Kat the other day and shot Boomer’s dad. Boomer must be so relieved she’s okay and his father is going to make it, too.”

Kat was the Dom’s high school girlfriend, who he thought had died years ago. But as fate would have it, she’d been in the Witness Protection Program with her father because Russian mobsters were after him and had murdered his wife and son. Kat had recently resurfaced and run to Boomer for help when she realized someone was stalking her after her father died for real a few months earlier.

“Well, he’s relieved Rick is going to be okay and is being released over the weekend, but Boomer’s freaked out because Kat took off on him. We don’t know what went wrong with the two of them, but I hope it works out. I think they are perfect for one another.” Kristen snorted. “Oh, and I wouldn’t be too sure of Carter not settling down. I think there’s a woman out there who is going to put that man in his place. Until then, the rest of us get to enjoy him—well, some of us do, since Kayla doesn’t do guys, Angie and Ian don’t share, and Jenn thinks of him as another uncle.”

Turning around for the seamstress, Shelby sighed in relief when the others switched the conversation to where they should go for lunch. The last thing she needed was them knowing she secretly longed to be Parker Christiansen’s submissive and, yes, his wife. But that would never happen.

It had been over two weeks since Parker’s suspension was lifted and he’d yet to play at the club. It wasn’t that none of the subs had requested to scene with him, but because he’d turned each one of them down. He couldn’t get Shelby out of his mind, especially since he hadn’t seen her since the night she’d played with Carter—the prick—the last night of Parker’s suspension.
Damn
. He had to get his emotions under control. The other Dom hadn’t done anything wrong, but he was the last one Parker had watched bring Shelby to an orgasm. Carter was a nice guy, however, from what he understood, the man could kill him without blinking an eye. Not the type of guy you wanted to piss off.

If Shelby wasn’t here again tonight, Parker was driving over to her place to find out where she was. Had she stopped coming because he was free to play again and she didn’t want him to try and negotiate with her? He didn’t think that was the reason. She’d been firm in the past when she’d turned him down. But tonight, he was going to find out what she had against him and then he’d fix it, because he was beyond obsessed with her. Every time he licked his lips he remembered how she’d tasted. For that brief moment, she’d given in to him and he was certain that if he chipped away at her resolve, he could win her over. Something was holding her back from becoming exclusive to him or any other Dom, and he was determined to find out what it was.

After two complete trips around the club which included asking most of the subs and a few of the Doms if they’d seen her, he knew he had to change tactics. No one seemed to know where she was or why she hadn’t been there. Glancing around, he didn’t see Ian or Devon anywhere, so he made a beeline to Mitch who was chatting with a few members at the bar. When there was a break in the conversation, he clapped the manager on the shoulder. “Can I talk to you in your office for a minute?”

Mitch nodded. It wasn’t unusual for the man to receive requests for a private conversation. “Sure.” He addressed the group he’d been speaking with. “If you’ll excuse me…I’ll be back in a few.”

Parker followed him toward the opposite end of the second floor. On this side there was also a fetish shop, stocked with sex toys, wigs, lingerie, and anything else the members were interested in purchasing. They took the hallway to the right of the shop, which led to the offices and stock room. Mitch unlocked his office door with a scan of his palm print. It was how all the doors and gates at the compound were opened. The system could also allow a person to only have access to certain places. Parker knew this from working on the interior construction of all the buildings.

Shutting the door behind them, Parker took a seat on the near side of the desk as Mitch sat in his chair behind it. He didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Where’s Shelby been?”

Mitch raised an eyebrow at him, then sat back in the chair. “Why do you think I know where she is?”

“Don’t fuck with me, Mitch, I’m not in the mood. You and Ian know everything about everybody here…especially the subs. If one of them suddenly stopped coming, you would either know why in advance or you’d be pounding on their door to find out what was wrong. Now, what’s going on with Shelby? She hasn’t been here in two weeks.”

The other man sighed. “I’m not at liberty to discuss it with you, Park. I’m sorry. But I didn’t know you were interested in her, since I’ve never seen you play together.”

“Well, it’s not from lack of trying on my part,” he ground out. “Damn it, can you at least give me a hint here? Did she sign a contract with anyone? Is she still a fucking member?”

Tilting his head to the side, Mitch considered him for a moment. Parker wanted to reach across the desk and shake the information out of the guy, but that would definitely get him tossed from the club, so he waited.

Almost a full minute went by before Mitch seemed to make up his mind. “She’s still a member and she didn’t sign a contract with anyone that I’m aware of. All I can say is she took some time off from the club for personal reasons.” There was more to it, Parker was convinced. The owners were extremely protective of the submissives of the club and knew almost everything about every single one of them, which was why he’d come to Mitch in the first place. “Didn’t you drive her home the night that your dick-head brother was here?”

“Yeah,” he said, his blood nearing the boiling point again, as it always did when he remembered how Dave had hit Shelby. He hadn’t spoken to the bastard since, although his brother had left numerous messages on his voice mail, trying to apologize. Parker wasn’t accepting any part of it.

“Well, what are you doing sitting here in my office then?”

He got it. Mitch wouldn’t break a member’s trust, but there was nothing stopping Parker from going over to her condo and pounding on her door. When he stood, Mitch stopped him with his hand up. “But one thing, Park. Take it easy with her, okay?”

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“If she doesn’t want to tell you, then back off. I mean it. If I find out you went there high-handed, then we’re going to have a problem, you and I. I think she needs a caring Dom at the moment, not an overbearing one. That’s all I’m going to say.”

Parker was confused. What the hell was wrong with her? Knowing he wasn’t getting any more information, he nodded then hurried out of the office. Tonight, he was going to find out what was going on with her, and then he’d fix it before telling her he had every intention of making her his. It was time Ms. Shelby Whitman had a full-time Dom…and it was going to be him.

* * *

After flushing the toilet, Shelby reached for the mouthwash. Her stomach was reacting violently to the second round of chemo and she was having trouble keeping food down. Someone from the pharmacy should be there soon, bringing her new prescription for anti-nausea pills. She’d forgotten to pick them up after leaving the treatment center two days ago and had been regretting it since late this afternoon. The first round of chemo hadn’t affected her this way, but she was told to expect a cumulative effect as her treatments went on. Thankfully, the pharmacy was open late tonight and they had a delivery service.

Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she winced. Hopefully, she’d get a good night sleep tonight and look better in the morning. If anyone saw her now, they’d think she had the flu or something. Although someone with the flu probably looked better than this—red eyes, pale face, hair sticking out in all directions, and wearing her favorite flannel pajamas because she was so cold. Thinking back, this was worse than when she’d receive radiation following the removal of her ovaries and the hysterectomy six and a half years ago. At least she thought it was.

As she shuffled out to the living room couch, the doorbell rang. Hoping it was her prescription, she hurried to the door and opened it without checking to see who it was.
Damn.
She should have peeked through the peephole first. “Parker? W-what are you doing here?”

The man raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. Oh, shit. He was in full Dom mode, complete with his club leathers and boots. The snug T-shirt emphasized his strong shoulders and chest. From the expression on his face, it was obvious something was wrong.

“Checking on you. And from the look of things, I’m glad I did. Why haven’t you been to the club lately? You’ve been sick this whole time?”

Shelby tried to downplay her illness. “It’s just the flu. I’ll be fine in a few days.”

His frown said he didn’t believe her. “The flu doesn’t last two weeks, Shelby.”

“Well, I had some other stuff I was taking care of last week. I’ll be back soon. Thanks for stopping by.” When she started to shut the door, he stuck his foot out, preventing her from closing it all the way. She saw movement over his shoulder and realized the driver from the pharmacy had arrived.

“Ms. Whitman?”

She sighed as Parker turned to face the college-age deliveryman. “Yes, I’m Shelby Whitman. Thanks for bringing it over.”

“No problem.” He handed her a clipboard. “Sign here, please. And Mr. Carlson said to tell you he sent over a bag of ginger candies and some ginger tea—no charge. He said that a lot of his patients on chemo find they help with the nausea when combined with the medicine.”

Shelby winced when Parker’s jaw dropped, eyes popped, and fists clenched.
Shit.
Signing the form, she handed it back to the driver who clearly didn’t realize he had dropped a bomb between the other two people. “Thanks. Wait a second, please.”

She was about to grab her purse for a tip, but Parker’s growl stopped her. He pulled out his wallet, handed the kid a twenty, then took the pharmacy bag. “Thanks. I’ll make sure Ms. Whitman uses all of it.”

Happy about the big tip, the driver waved as he jogged to his car. “No problem. If you need anything else, give us a call.”

Shelby tried to take the bag from Parker, but the frown on the Dom’s face had her backing up into the foyer. Fuck, she was in so much trouble.

* * *

Chemo?
She was suffering the effects of chemotherapy and tried to tell him it was the flu? This couldn’t be happening. His gut churned as the realization sunk in—his sweet Shelby had cancer. And Mitch had known. This was what he’d been talking about. Or did the club owners truly know what was going on? Parker couldn’t imagine any of the Doms from The Covenant allowing her to go through this alone. But Mitch had been right about one thing—Shelby needed a gentle Dom right now, not an arrogant one. When she stepped backward, away from him, he realized he was scaring her. He tried to relax the tension coursing through him, and followed her inside, closing the door behind him.

Now that he knew what was wrong, he could properly take care of her. First things first. He brushed past her, entered the kitchen, and promptly grabbed her tea kettle from the stove, filling it with water. Opening the cabinet where he remembered her glasses were kept, he found a coffee mug. He then pulled the medication bottle from the bag and read the label. All the while, he knew Shelby was silently standing in the doorway watching him. “It says to take one pill first and, if you need to, you can take another one.”

He filled a glass with water, handed it to her along with a pill, and watched as she dutifully took the medication. Her pale face and sunken eyes worried him. “Go lay down. I can tell you’re exhausted. I’ll bring the tea when it’s ready.”

“You don’t have to do this. I can take care of myself.”

Taking the glass from her, he turned toward the sink. “Not negotiable, Shelby. Now unless you want to start racking up some punishments for when you’re feeling better, I suggest you follow orders. Go lay down.”

She glared at him for a moment, but he wasn’t backing down. Shelby needed someone to take care of her, and whether she realized yet or not, he’d just signed up for the job. Finally, she heeded his command. He didn’t like how sick she looked. After he got some information from her, he’d retrieve his laptop from the truck, and do some research while she slept.

As soon as the boiling water was ready, he poured it into the mug and steeped the teabag. Opening her pantry, he found a jar of honey and added a drop. Growing up, it was how his nanny enjoyed it, and since Shelby had honey in the house, it was a good bet she used it in her tea. Draining the little bag and tossing it into the garbage under the sink, he found a spoon in one of the drawers and stirred the heated drink. On his way out the living room, where he’d heard her put on the TV, he grabbed the small bag of ginger candies.

Shelby was sitting on the couch watching the news and he frowned at her. “You’re supposed to be laying down sweetheart.”

“I can’t drink the tea if I’m laying down, Sir.”

He paused at her snarky use of the title. Raising an eyebrow, he handed her the tea. “Drink up. Where can I find a blanket for you? I want you comfortable while we talk.” He held up a hand when it appeared she was going to argue with him. “Not negotiable.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, she pointed to the hallway behind him. “You like those two words way too much. In the linen closet next to the bathroom, bottom shelf.”

Nodding, he turned and retrieved a heavy knitted afghan. While she drank her tea, he wrapped the blanket around her, then returned to the kitchen and found her bottle of Irish whiskey. He was going to need a drink for this conversation. The only thing he could figure out so far was that, if she was receiving chemo, the cancer wasn’t considered terminal…yet. And he prayed it never reached that point. The world would be a lot darker if Ms. Shelby Whitman wasn't in it.

When he walked back out to the living room, she placed the almost empty cup on the coffee table and swung her legs up on the couch. He grabbed a second throw pillow and tucked it with the one under her head. “Comfy?”

“Yes, thank you. I’m sorry I was so bitchy before. I’ve been throwing up all evening and I’m tired and achy.”

He sat in the recliner facing her and took a sip of his whiskey. “I understand that. What I don’t understand is why you kept this a secret and why no one is here helping you.”

Shimmying down further, she turned to lay on her side. Her eyes getting heavy. “I didn’t want to worry everyone. As for someone helping me, I don’t want to be a burden to anyone. My parents have been gone for several years and my only sister lives in Michigan with her own family. I didn’t want any of my friends to feel obligated to help, so I kept it to myself. I’ve gone through this before, so I know what to expect and what to do.”