Surrounded [Running to Love 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) (10 page)

“Get in the truck.” Ashley heard the command, but Jackie was still standing frozen, eyes wide, chest heaving. She lightly slapped her face, and Jackie snapped to, blinking and obviously trying to focus.

“Get in ’Stair’s truck, now.” Jackie nodded jerkily and moved toward the vehicle, but, not surprisingly, she halted long enough to scoop up the trembling puppy and carried him along with her. Ashley made certain that Jackie was able to open the door, shove the dog inside, and clamber in after it before she retreated to her car. Alistair gave her a look that made her quail inside. She knew someone was going to get their ass tanned and thought it might be her as well. She glanced back to see him checking to see that the guy was still breathing, putting two fingers on the side of the thick neck, and then he hustled to the truck.

Ashley shifted gears and pulled away, then turned the corner and sped off, blessing the long block. By the time she made their driveway, enough time and space would have passed that any witnesses wouldn’t know where they’d gone. People didn’t tend to get involved in this neighborhood anyhow. Her cop conscience pricked her, but she pushed it down. No harm, no foul. The thug would live, Jackie was safe, she hadn’t had to kill anyone, and they appeared to have inherited a puppy. Jackie probably wouldn’t be sitting for dinner, or for breakfast, or at her job tomorrow either, but that was the way of it. She would have screamed at her and then given her the cold shoulder for a couple of days as punishment. Alistair’s way would be better. And there’d be makeup sex. Funny how she wasn’t so tired anymore, but the adrenaline would soon subside and she would probably crash. The little event had also been a nice distraction from that goddamn letter, and she wouldn’t want to be in the passenger seat in that truck right now.

Alistair didn’t trust himself to look at Jackie. He didn’t even check to see if her seat belt was fastened, relying on the lights on the dash to alert him. If he looked at her, he was going to raise his voice, and if he raised his voice, he would raise his hand and this wasn’t the time or place. He had only come in on the tail end of the little drama, but he knew that Jackie had been in the thick of it with no thought to her own safety, just as Ash had told him she did. And he hadn’t missed the weapon in Ashley’s hand. Jackie had put her at risk, too, and the incident could have impacted on her profession as well. He would breathe through his fury, brought on by such abject terror that he still trembled from it, and when he was calm, he would talk to her and then lower his hand over her ass. He thought he might smack Ashley’s, too, for stopping and allowing Jackie to get into that mess. Fuck. Two days into this ménage and he had nearly had a heart attack.

He pulled into the driveway and as close to Ash’s car as he dared, noting that she had driven nearly to the back of the lot. It was unlikely anyone had taken license numbers, but his truck was distinctive and it was good to have it parked well off the street. He went around to open Jackie’s door, and her tear-streaked face almost undermined his resolve, as did the huddling mass of puppy in her lap. She looked at him and cried harder. He lifted her out, the pup yelping in shock as he did so, and put her down.

“Go in the house and tend to the dog. Then wait for me on the couch.”

She clutched the puppy and nodded, clearly not trusting her voice, and hurried toward the front door. Alistair made sure she got inside and then leaned against the truck and wiped a hand down his face. His heart couldn’t take much more of this. He had only just found her again, gotten her back in his bed and his life, and one punch from that asshole could have ended it all. And he found he couldn’t stand to think about anything happening to Ashley, either. Well, he was going to beat her ass raw and punish that impetuous streak right out of her, regardless of her reasons, right or wrong. And probably Ashley, too. Goddamn it.

He reached into the back for his duffel bag, wondering at his foresight, because he had included a crop in with his clothing. And a pair of handcuffs, even if Ashley probably had her own. He might need two pairs tonight. It would depend upon Ash’s explanation. He took his time locking the truck and took a wander around the perimeter of the house, nodding with satisfaction at the high fence in the back, the boards nailed flush with no easy toe or handholds, the gate securely padlocked on the inside. He’d have an alarm installed, too, as soon as possible. All the windows located in a place that would be hidden from the street were secure. He approved. He saw Ashley’s hand there and also in the thorny rose bushes that would keep intruders uncomfortable if too close to the house. He hefted the duffel and strode toward the door. Showtime.

Ash greeted him in the foyer. “She’s just fixed that animal a bed and put some food and water down for it. She fussed because it’s just a pup, but she’s not avoiding you. She’s already apologized to me, but I’m still so pissed with her I could spit. I want you to know she was driving or she’d never have gotten out of the car.”

He knew Ash wasn’t trying to exonerate herself, just establish that she felt terrible for not protecting Jackie from herself. He should have known nothing Jackie could have said or done would have convinced Ashley to pull over and let her confront that asshole. He nodded, and then dropped the bag and reached out for her. Ashley went into his arms with a tiny sob, and he hugged her tight. “It’s okay, Ash. We know she does these things. You told me, and I’m not surprised. This was beyond the pale though, and I’m going to help her understand that, the only way I know how.”

Ashley nodded against his shoulder and then pushed away from him, impatiently wiping at her eyes. “Have at it, ’Stair. I won’t interfere. I might even help. I thought he’d kill her and thought I’d have to kill him first.”

“She won’t have realized the position she put you in yet, Ash. But she will.”

“Yes, she does.” Jackie’s forlorn voice had them both turning to face her little form standing in the archway. “I know all the implications of what I did. And I’m sorry, although I know that’s faint comfort.”

Alistair felt his heart swell again at her words and understanding but kept his face impassive and reached for the duffel bag. “Do as I told you.” He watched her swallow and quickly turn and head toward the couch. Ash reached for the duffel, and he let her take it, stopping only to pull out the crop and the handcuffs. Her eyes widened a little, and then she shrugged. She hauled his bag away, and he followed her, branching off to go into the kitchen where he chose a sturdy chair without arms. He carried it into the living room and set it dead center on the area rug, right where the coffee table used to be. He felt himself blink and looked around. The table was blocking the doorway to the mudroom, and he realized Jackie had shut the dog away in there.

She was perched on the edge of the couch, watching him with wide eyes, and when he set the crop and cuffs beside her, she visibly trembled. He sat on the kitchen chair and wordlessly motioned her over his lap. She immediately took her place, and he folded her skirt up to her waist and pulled her panties down to just beneath the crease where her buttocks and thighs joined. He trapped her legs between his and put his left hand between her shoulders to firmly anchor her. Ashley came back into the room with a bottle of water and sat quietly on the couch, idly fingering the crop. Her color was better, but her lips were still tight with strain. Alistair proceeded to administer the most controlled spanking of his life.

He brought his hand down on Jackie’s ass in measured, heavy blows, the sound reverberating in the room. She flinched and clenched and cried out against it and fought helplessly against his hold. When she was crying uncontrollably, he pulled her upright and held her by her shoulders, staring into her face until she managed to look at him.

“You nearly got yourself killed today, Jackie, and could have gotten Ashley killed. Or compromised her career. I won’t ask you what you were thinking because you weren’t or you wouldn’t have done something so goddamn stupid.”

She gulped and nodded and sobbed her agreement. He stood and hauled her to the couch, bending her over the arm. It put her just at the right height, nearly on her toes, her ass well presented. He grabbed the cuffs and efficiently secured her hands behind her back. Ashley slid over and placed Jackie’s cheek on her thigh while he yanked her panties down to hobble her knees. He was going to crop her from the tops of her buttocks to the bottom of her thighs and didn’t want to injure her fragile pussy flesh, although smacking her there certainly appealed. Her bottom was already bright red, and he was going to lay a pattern of purple across it to join those few places that still looked tender from the night before last. It was a lesson she wouldn’t soon forget.

The sound of the crop flexing had her tensing, and he wished he had brought the damn ginger, except this wasn’t about sex. He was tumescent but mostly because of the adrenaline high, and Jackie wasn’t aroused at all. She clearly knew the difference between erotic discipline and punishment, although…he shut his thoughts down and gave her twenty stripes in a grid pattern that welted pleasingly to his eyes. She screamed during the first half and then subsided, slipping into that place where she just accepted her fate. Ashley sat rigid during the process and was biting her lip by the end, but didn’t interfere. They locked eyes over Jackie’s writhing body, and she visibly slumped. He hurried to release Jackie and picked her up to take her to the bathroom where he stripped her and stood her in the tub. She was a tear-stained mess, and he again had to harden his heart and not console her. Something was up with Ashley, and he felt totally torn. As soon as he was able to ease Jackie into a cool tub and ensure she was coherent, he needed to see to Ash.

“Are you all right? Can you wait by yourself for a few minutes?”

Jackie looked at him blearily, nodded, and then squinted, a faint trace of awareness returning to her eyes. “What’s wrong?” she slurred.

“Nothing,” he lied. “I need to go get something from my bag.”

“I’m okay.”

He stared at her and then cursed. She’d probably drown. He helped her step out and then hustled her into the bedroom where he pushed her down face first on the bed. “Stay there.”

He hurried back to Ashley, who was still slumped back against the cushions. She looked worse than she did when he had gotten out of his truck to challenge the thug. “Ash?”

She opened her eyes and looked at him. “Sorry. I’m overwhelmed. Go take care of our little brat, and I’ll get my shit together. I’m not sick or anything. Just sucked dry, and counting my blessings it wasn’t my ass you were heating up. Go.”

Alistair watched her drift off again and was satisfied that she was wrung out emotionally, not ill or really freaked out by the punishment. He went back to find Jackie sound asleep, boneless and still facedown on the bed. He searched for some kind of lotion and found something for sprains that boasted cooling properties. That would fit the bill. He gently applied it to her bottom and thighs, and she hardly moved, let alone woke up. It was hardly an auspicious move-in day, but just as he had predicted, life would never be boring from here on in.

He checked on Ashley again, but she, too, was sleeping, canted over to the side, so he went to the kitchen and returned the chair to its rightful place. An investigation of the fridge turned up several thawed chicken breasts, so he turned on the oven and found a pan and some oil. Olive oil. Even he knew that was the good stuff. He usually ate takeout, but a quick check online told him what temperature to set the oven to and how much oil to use. He threw some pepper and something green and flaky onto the chicken before setting the pan onto the middle rack. There were potatoes in the crisper, so he washed and sliced several, adding some more of that oil and seasoning, and set that pan to bake, too. The freezer compartment served up some frozen mixed vegetables, and he was set. He ate properly despite how much he ordered in or ate out, and knew every restaurant and deli in the area that served good protein and carbs, even if greens were tough to stomach. The sight of some of the things in the fridge raised his eyebrows and had Jackie’s name written all over them. He would talk with her about that as well. He just wanted her to be healthy.

A faint whimper from the mudroom caught his attention next. He peered into the room and saw the little puppy Jackie had rescued. It looked back at him, and its whippy tail faintly tapped the floor. It was a fucking pit bull. The asshole had been beating it to train it to be mean and prone to attack, on command or not. He probably had a meth lab or something to protect. Wonderful. Now he had to convince Jackie that a pit bull wasn’t the kind of dog she should have as a pet. Maybe he should take it to the pound right now while she slept and beg for forgiveness later. And maybe he should just leave a big stick right by her hand for her to hit him over the head with when she found out what he’d done. Shit.

As he watched, the puppy whined again and scratched at the floor. It probably needed out. Maybe it would run away. Alistair stepped over the coffee table barricade and let the animal out the back door. He watched as it scrambled down the steps and immediately squatted. Then it trudged around the perimeter of the backyard, much as he had done earlier, its tail held straight out behind it, ears cocked forward, a silent little killer. Like him. It was clearly only eight or ten weeks old but already showing the signs of its breed, possessive, tenacious, protective, and intensely loyal. Like him. Alistair sighed. They had a pet. Bozo caught sight of him and bounced back toward the steps. He, for despite the squat to pee, the puppy had male paraphernalia under its belly, somehow clambered up the steps on his short legs and dashed back inside. Alistair secured the door and made his way back into the kitchen while Bozo curled up in the box Jackie had lined with what looked to be an old seat cover.

He set the table for three and then reconsidered, putting one place setting at the breakfast bar. Jackie wouldn’t be sitting tonight. He made some decaf coffee and frowned at the cream but put it out for her. Then he turned the heat on under the vegetables before checking on Jackie, who hadn’t moved a muscle. He wanted to stay with her so that the first thing she saw when she woke was him but knew he’d fuck her and take away the lesson, so he denied himself. Ashley was stirring when he returned to the living room and sat up when she heard him take a seat.