Choosing Rena (2 page)

Digging her heels in, she
pulled back against his hold nearly breaking free. “Wait a damned
minute. I don’t know who the hell died and made you boss, but I’m a
grown woman – one who’s nearly fifteen years older than you, Mr.
Levough. I don’t need your permission to quit my job, nor do I need
my sister’s approval to find a place of my own.” Around them, the
people stopped and stared. Inwardly, she groaned at the spectacle
she was making of herself, but was too pissed to care.
“
And
for your
information, I moved because my room is now the nursery. A two
bedroom walk-up is fine for three adults with two of them married,
but not so fine for three adults
and
an infant.”

The muscle in his jaw
clenched, but she paid little attention to it. “Now get your mother
fuckin’ hands off me.” She wrenched the thumb on his hand in the
opposite direction of his palm, nearly bending it completely back,
while stomping down on the arch of his foot with her high-top
tennies. He gave a muffled grunt when she followed through with an
elbow to his midsection. Each move was second nature, so within
mere seconds she was free. Not just because she’d hurt him, but
also because several uniform-suited mall security guards appeared
out of nowhere to help her. As an undercover security consultant,
it was her job to pick up shoplifters and basically, under normal
circumstances, be invisible. She was dressed in street attire and
carrying a shopping bag for Christ’s sake. Jackson had no idea he’d
just manhandled her while on duty.
Not
that I’m sure it would’ve stopped him. Just look at all the times
he manhandled me on the job – even though we both know I wanted it,
which is why I quit. I couldn’t work with him anymore.

The sound of a confused scuffle
brought her head up. Before she could explain the situation to her
fellow co-workers, they had Jackson handcuffed with his hands
behind his back. She winced as she heard the click of the cuffs
tightening. He looked ready to explode.

“Son of a…” She rubbed the bridge her
nose. This was not good. If Jackson didn’t kill her for this, he’d
definitely spank her for it. Perhaps she could hide out in Olivia’s
spare room - the older Domme would understand, since she knew how
difficult the idiot could be…but hell with Micah and Jude both
staying with their mistress, the woman had a full house.

“Rena?” One of the older security
guards – was it Henry or Hank – she couldn’t remember off the top
of her head, touched her arm. “Are you okay? We can call the
police.”

“Don’t do it.” Jackson’s voice was
sharp. She was half-tempted to let the law contain him until she
made a quick getaway, but honestly he’d done nothing to warrant
spending the night in jail.

“Fuck.”

Jackson’s nostrils flared in anger.
“Believe me, MacAllister, fucking you is the last thing on my mind
right now. You better run, and run hard because once I get free,
your ass is mine. I’m going to blister it.”

Hank, Henry or whatever you wanted to
call him, pulled back hard on the cuffs, jerking Jackson back away
from her. “Threatening an undercover officer is not a good thing,
Sir. I think you and I need to have a chat.” He gave her a pointed
look - giving her the option to make a clean getaway.

Being no fool – she took it. “Tell the
boss I’m 10-10 for the day.”

Moving quickly, she blended back into
the crowd, feeling the weight of his eyes on her the entire time.
Jackson Levough wouldn’t let this rest. Her new associates had just
decidedly made this situation worse. Jackson would demand
retribution and she was afraid of exactly what he would require of
her.

* * * *

With hands trembling, Rena guided her
key into the lock of her front door. Even after a good half hour of
traveling the Green Line to her home in Oak Park, she was still
shook up from her run in with Jackson Levough. Honestly it was her
own faulty reasoning which had her in this mess. After a month of
zero contact, her assumption of him giving up the search was the
start of her downfall. Not even during her conversations about
finding another suitable club with Olivia, had the older Domme said
anything about Jackson. She’d foolishly believed the man had moved
on and let her guard down.

“You can be a damned idiot at times,
MacAllister.” With a quick jiggle and twist of the key, the lock
unlatched. Entering her dimly lit apartment, she closed and locked
the door behind her – an old habit which she couldn’t seem to
break. “Not only do you get the man arrested but you ran from him.
You know how he’s going to react.” The memories of what had
happened during their trip to Ireland last year should’ve faded but
hadn’t. Out of her depth with her emotions when it came to her
younger boss, she’d pushed hard during the trip before freaking out
when he’d pushed back. She’d tried to run then, but unlike this
time, he’d caught her, only to bend her over his lap and deliver a
paddling she’d never forget.

The remembered sting of a
suede-covered paddle against her ass still had the ability to send
tingles through her whole body. She’d almost come from the feel of
it alone. She’d been a goner when he’d begun to speak – his thick
Louisiana accent had sent her over the edge with ease. Tears of
relief had streaked down her cheeks as she’d cried for the first
time in almost two years since Louis had abandoned her for a much
younger and prettier sub. Her replacement had been a petite artist
from California who he’d met at his mother’s gallery – young and
impressionable enough for her master to mold into the perfect
submissive, in
and
out of the bedroom.

When her punishment was over, Jackson
had held her in his arms until she’d calmed. He hadn’t pressed hard
but seemed to understand she was raw. Instead he’d kept it light
hearted as he’d teased her about her light touch, and how he’d
never had a submissive come so fast from a paddling – how it made
her special. She’d drifted off to sleep in his arms, only to awake
a short while later at the sound of the handle of their hotel suite
being turned. She’d reacted without thinking, reaching for the
heavy vase sitting on the stand next to the beduch where they’d
fallen asleep. Her instincts had her pitching the vase at the
familiar outline of a gun in the man’s hand. When the vase struck
the man’s hand, the pistol harmlessly discharged just as Jackson
dumped her on the floor. Later the Irish Police Inspector, who
arrested the man, had told them if it hadn’t been for her quick
thinking, they’d have both been dead - considering the bullets the
idiot had used were hollow-point tipped.

Sighing roughly, she grumbled. “I
should’ve just let the ass shoot him. Would’ve too, if it hadn’t
been for the fact the bullet would’ve had to go through me first.”
Moving away from the door, she sank onto her new sofa – a blonde
suede leather monstrosity which reminded her so much of the paddle
Jackson had promised to use on her again – well until she’d
emasculated him by saving his hide.

Tipping her head back against the
plush cushion, she shoved away the memory of his horror filled
expression as he’d helped her up, only to leave her alone in the
room as he dealt with the aftermath of a near shooting. Freeing the
loose bun she’d twisted her braids into, she let them spill over
her shoulders as she wondered what the hell she was going to do
now. While Jackson didn’t have her address yet, she knew it was
only a matter of time before he tracked her down – especially now
that all of the utilities were in her name. It had taken Comm.
Edison nearly two months before they straightened out the billing
mess the last tenant had made.

For a brief moment she
thought of moving again, knowing with his and Jude’s connections it
wouldn’t take Jackson long to locate her home address. But she
immediately discarded the idea. She loved her new apartment. Quant
and cozy with over-stuffed furniture, vibrant paintings her sister
had made, and plenty of hardwood floors covered with bright
colorful rag throw rugs her grandma and she had braided, it might
be a hodgepodge of tastes and decors but it was every inch
hers.
And I’m not going to let Jackson
Levough run me out of it. I’ll just have to keep my need to submit
under wraps while rebuffing him the next time I see him. Perhaps if
I tell him no enough times he’ll begin to believe it.

Chapter Two

“Will you stop? You’re starting to
give me a headache.”

Without even bothering to pause in his
pacing or look up at his partner, Jackson shook his head,
continuing to wear a hole in the lush carpet in front of Jude’s
desk. It’d been two days since he’d run into Rena at the Atrium
Mall, and as usual the little minx had been elusive. “No. I’m
pissed. It’s either this or I go down to the club and…”

“And do nothing.” Jude sighed, leaning
back in his chair, the wood creaking ominously under his large
frame. “Something has to give, Jackson. You haven’t played with a
submissive since you got back from Ireland last year.” When Jackson
opened his mouth to protest, Jude held up a hand. “Instructed yes,
but played no. I’ve never seen you go this long without a woman.
You flog them, paddle them, but you go home alone. Not even when
you were engaged to Suzette, did you refrain from slaking your
physical needs with your playmates.”

Jackson flushed. It was
true, when he’d been with Suzette, he hadn’t managed to remain
faithful when things had become difficult, which is why he’d
decided monogamy wasn’t for him. He didn’t want to see the hurt
look on another woman’s face when he strayed because she wasn’t
enough to satisfy his darker needs.
But
it’ll be different with Rena. She’s in the lifestyle and I won’t
have to roam. She won’t freak out when I want to tie her to our bed
and paddle her bottom.

“You can’t keep chasing the woman all
over Chicago, man. Rena’s a grown woman, not a three year old.”
Jude’s warning jerked him back to the conversation at
hand.

Jackson scowled at him. “Tell me
something I don’t know.” He stopped, his shoulders dropping. “I
don’t want any other woman, Jude. That little black witch has
crawled under my skin like an itch I just can’t reach.”

Jude slumped into his chair. “Damn. I
wish I could say I understand, but I’m not wired the same way as
you. It’s all I can do to give Mistress her one night a month off.”
Steepling his fingers on his flat stomach, Jude grew
silent.

Jackson wanted to groan as he saw an
oh-so familiar look settle over his friend’s face. He recognized
that look – the wheels inside the man’s head were turning. Jude was
contemplating something dastardly evil, which boded ill for him.
His friend had dragged him into more than one shit-fire storm
wearing that expression. “Whatever you’re thinking…don’t. I’m not
letting you drag me into some cockamamie scheme.”

The corners of Jude’s eyes crinkled as
a wide grin crossed his handsome face. “I’ve got it.”

Jackson backed away. “Got what?
Rabies?”

Jude slowly stood, drawing to his full
height. “How you’re going to get Rena to come around to your way of
thinking.”

“It’s not thinking! I’m way, way
beyond thought. I’m so fuckin’ horny, I’d screw a snake if you held
the head. I want her in my bed, like yesterday.”

A dark blond brow rose before Jude
shook his head. “You know for a Dom, you’re surprisingly lacking in
patience.”

“See how you’d feel after chasing your
woman all over the place for the past eight months, then tell me
how I’m lacking patience.” Jackson dropped onto the leather couch
sitting in the corner of the office, covering his eyes with his
forearm. “Imagine you know your Mistress needs release, but refuses
to let you take care of her – ignoring her needs because she’s
scared you’ll think she’s weak. Instead she walks away.”

The resulting growl from Jude didn’t
surprise Jackson. He knew the other man lived to please, pleasure
and take care of his Mistress, a chore he shared with Olivia’s
other sub, Micah. Even as submissive as the man was to her, he’d go
through the roof if she neglected her needs. “Like hell. Micah and
I wouldn’t stand for it. We’d gang up on her until she let
us…”

Moving his arm, Jackson smirked. “See
what I mean? It’s not as easy as it sounds is it? God I wish you
could’ve seen the way she submitted to me in Ireland. Maybe you’d
understand my frustration.”

“Whoa!” Jude drew up short. “You never
said anything about her submitting to you.”

Jackson felt the familiar tightening
of his body at the memory. “Oh yes. Our dear prickly Rena gave me
her submission while we were over in Ireland. Or at least, a taste
of it.” He shifted against the leather of the couch.

Jude looked surprised. “And when
exactly was that? You were only over there for three days to wrap
up the necessities of your cousin’s arrest as the mastermind behind
the attack on Mistress last year.”

Jackson chuckled. “I work
fast. I hadn’t planned on it. In fact, I would’ve rather had her
here at home or at
Olivia’s
, but the little minx
wouldn’t quit pushing. The whole time we were there, she treated me
like I was an immature boy who thought only with his dick. I
finally snapped, bent her over my knee and spanked her
–”