Read The Farthest Edge Page 17


  “Tell me the code to your alarm, Angie, because you’re gonna set that fucker and I don’t want to set it off at five in the morning when I show.”

  That made her face light and he wasn’t an asshole.

  He was a motherfucker.

  Because he wanted to sleep in her bed with her, even if for an hour, then stay in it after she left because she wanted him to and not because her bed was comfortable, even if he was tied to it.

  But because he was going to give it to her because she wanted it and he couldn’t hack her looking like she’d looked, thinking she’d fucked up, thinking she wouldn’t get what she wanted because he’d made it clear it wasn’t hers to have.

  Christ, he could barely sit on her couch without bolting.

  And he couldn’t believe he was standing in her kitchen with a travel mug of coffee in his hand that she’d made like he was her man and he’d earned the privilege to stand right there.

  And now he was going to let himself in and crawl in bed with her like he belonged there.

  Giving her indication that might be someplace he’d eventually belong.

  Yep.

  Total motherfucker.

  “Eight, two, eight, eight,” she stated immediately.

  All other thoughts fled as Branch felt his brows snap together. “You got a security code with three of the same digits in it?”

  “Oh no,” she fake cried, “not another heartfelt lecture about how I need to stay safe. I already promised not to skip down the stairs and I like skipping. I can’t take more, Branch.”

  “Total smartass,” he muttered.

  She gave him another happy smile.

  He did his best to ignore it, a best that was not good enough.

  “Change the code, Evangeline. But do it tomorrow, so I can get in without raising a holy racket and waking that sweet ass of yours up.”

  She kept smiling.

  He wanted to walk to her and kiss it off her face.

  Instead he turned to the door.

  “Branch?” she called.

  He had it opened and turned back.

  “Your ass is sweeter,” she declared.

  “Love you love my ass, honey,” he said low and watched his tone register in her face, seeing it soften, and knowing the motherfucker he was he’d give her that again too so he’d see more of that look. “And it loves you. But trust me on this. I might not have got my hands on it yet, but still. Your ass is way sweeter.”

  He didn’t let her say dick.

  Before she could crawl deeper into his soul, he walked out the door.

  * * *

  “It’s cool you doin’ this, Branch,” Pat said.

  Branch was in the control room at the Honey. The large bank of monitors that filled one wall were all either showing active playrooms, static views of the area around the building, reception, or two wide angles that offered views to the entirety of the large bar space the members called the hunting ground. There were also monitors with constantly shifting views of the maze of halls, and also two with views of the smaller bar that was deeper in the building, the social room.

  “Not a problem,” Branch replied, walking in, eyes to the monitors, seeing Olly and Leigh sitting in a booth, curled into each other and chatting.

  Ol had been trying to get hold of him now for weeks. But his head had been fucked from the minute he’d walked out of Aryas’s red room, turning down the promise Evangeline had written all over her, and he’d avoided his calls.

  Ol was in love, living with his woman, and he had it all. A classy Mistress that did it for him and an amazing lady in his life, sharing his home and bed with her, who also did it for him.

  In that state, anyone wanted to spread that goodness.

  And Ol had been riding his ass, if cautiously and being cool about it, but he didn’t let up about Branch finding the same since the minute, in a moment of weakness (something he seemed to be getting way too fucking much lately), Branch had shared they were brothers in more than the fact they both had a dick.

  After walking away from Evangeline, he couldn’t deal with more of that.

  Now, he definitely couldn’t.

  “Shit doesn’t happen much,” Pat said and Branch looked back to him. “Only need one man on the monitors. You’d think it’d be awesome, but you get it night after night…” He shrugged. “So we usually trade off. Half hour on. Half hour off. You’re out of this room, you patrol. Hunting ground. Social. Halls. Outside. Rich, the bartender in the hunting ground, and Matt, a server assigned to social tonight, can be called in if shit goes down, which it won’t ’cause it never does, but it’s in their job description. I’ll take first shift on monitors and you patrol.”

  “Right,” Branch muttered, not sharing what Pat already knew.

  He’d done this before.

  He knew the drill.

  And it wasn’t hard.

  “You’re scenery, man,” Pat kept at him. “I know you’ve done this before but a reminder. None of the members see you, if you can manage it, or even sense you, if you’re good at it. Just keep an eye. Don’t stay in one place too long. Especially in social. If the impossible occurs and something goes down and you’re not in that room, I don’t see it on the monitors and haul ass or Matt isn’t on it, the male Doms’ll be all over it. Don’t watch. Patrol.”

  He knew how to patrol and he knew how to become scenery and he knew a fuckuva lot better than Pat knew either.

  He didn’t share that.

  Because he also wasn’t a big fan of having simple shit repeated to him, because he might not help with security at the Honey often, but he’d done it twice in his memory in the short year Pat had been working there. So he didn’t need this guy sharing he thought his balls were bigger by treating Branch like he was a moron or like he was some asswipe who got his rocks off watching people play when he was supposed to be protecting them.

  So he gave the guy a look that said all that even as his mouth moved.

  “Yeah, man, like you said, I’ve done this before.”

  But he didn’t need to say the words. The way Pat’s head jerked to the side and his torso swayed slightly back showed he was alert and he’d read the threat of pissing Branch off.

  Branch lifted his gaze to the clock at the back wall.

  He glanced at Pat, shoving the earpiece in his ear that had a mouthpiece he could activate in the cord that control used to communicate to security on patrol, and said, “Half an hour.”

  Then he walked out.

  The half an hour went fast and was boring as hell, considering the alternative was watching television while eating Angie’s food (or her eating his) then letting her sway or rock or shatter his world, he didn’t care which it was.

  It would be with her.

  The next half an hour wasn’t any better considering it was early and most everyone was still in the hunting ground, or just preparing to go to the social room, so there wasn’t a lot of activity except people drinking, some subs preening, some playing it cool, and Doms watching.

  Very little action on monitors or patrol.

  He went through three back-and-forth shifts, noting that Ol and Leigh were hanging, Queen Bee Mistress and her prince of a sub holding court, Masters and Mistresses sliding in their booth, chatting, sliding out, making an approach, standing at the side.

  But most of the time, they just cuddled together, smiling a lot, touching a lot and sipping at their drinks, being together and also heightening the anticipation for what was to come.

  After his third patrol, he came back, tugged the piece out of his ear, jerked his chin to Pat and Pat took off.

  Branch settled in.

  Olly and Leigh were still there, she was turned nearly fully into him, grinning up at his face because he’d just thrown his head back and laughed.

  Pain sliced through Branch’s gut.

  He knew his friend understood the importance of all he had.

  He still didn’t.

  His eyes scanned the monitors
and he took note that in the last half an hour, people were getting down to business.

  He didn’t watch. He was on the job. He just assessed it was copasetic, and it all was, so his gaze moved on.

  He caught it at the end of a flash of a hallway.

  He reached forward immediately and hit the dial that would turn the monitor back to the view it’d scrolled out of.

  And he stared.

  “What the fuck?”

  He couldn’t believe his eyes.

  But there was no denying there she was, in a hot, tight purple dress, high heels, hair piled high on her head like she’d worn it last night after she’d changed from her work clothes (and like she’d worn it in their bath) but more styled.

  She was standing with the Dom who’d fucked her ex-boyfriend’s ass after which he’d eaten out her pussy.

  Evangeline.

  “What the fuck?”

  He leaned forward, pulled out his phone and tore his eyes from the monitors to scroll down his contacts.

  Evangeline wouldn’t have her phone as most of the women left their purses with reception so they didn’t have that hassle, but also, he saw on the monitors she didn’t have a purse. Or her phone.

  The men usually didn’t check anything at reception, they’d put it on vibrate, which was probably Aryas’s policy, but they’d have their phones with them.

  He found Olly’s contact and hit “Go.”

  The hallway view had switched again so his eyes went to the hunting ground view where Olly and Leigh were sitting.

  He saw Olly pull his phone out of his inside jacket pocket, check the screen, look at Amélie, say something then take his call.

  “Hey, brother, what—?”

  “Right now, I’m in the control room at the Honey and I saw Evangeline in the hall with a Dom. Go get her, Ol, and bring her to me.”

  He watched Olly’s head jerk before he heard, “Uh … what?”

  “I’m. In. The. Control. Room. At. The. Honey. Evangeline is there. In the halls. With a Dom. I cannot leave my post. Go get her and bring her to me.”

  “Evangeline?”

  “Olly,” he bit out.

  “Are you…?”

  Branch watched Ol drop his phone and listen to Leigh before he said something to her.

  Amélie turned and looked directly at the camera, her striking face startled, before her lips quirked and she turned back to her man and said something in reply.

  Olly lifted his phone to his ear. “Branch, bud, are you and Evangeline—?”

  “She’s with a Dom who’s tasted her pussy when she’s supposed to be home waiting for me. Go. Get. Her, Olly.”

  If he was close, he might be moved to punch the huge grin that spread on his friend’s face.

  Fortunately quickly, Ol replied, “Right. Going now. Hang tight.”

  He disconnected and watched Olly and Leigh both slide out of the booth, Leigh doing so because she was sitting on the outside. Amélie slid back in, watching her man walk toward the door that led to the playrooms before her eyes came back to the camera and Branch saw her cat’s smile.

  He looked away and scanned the rest of the screens, turning his mind while he waited.

  He saw Olly approach the Dom and Angie, who were both at some windows, watching a scene in a playroom, and the screen scrolled. When he saw that view again, the Dom was standing alone, staring down the hall, his face not hiding he was pretty fucking ticked.

  And Branch knew, looking at him, he was not ticked that a sub came and collected the Domme he was enjoying a scene with.

  He was ticked because he liked the taste of Evangeline’s pussy.

  He scanned the screens and waited, coming slowly out of his chair in an effort to keep his cool when the knock sounded at the door.

  He opened it and looked down at Angie’s pretty face all made up, making it, if not prettier, definitely hotter, and noting distractedly her body looked even better in that fucking dress when he could see it close up.

  “Branch,” she breathed, then her eyes grew big.

  She looked at Ol, at Branch, at Ol, then at Branch again.

  Fuck, she was cute even when he was seriously fucking pissed at her.

  “Thanks, Ol, got it from here,” he stated.

  Leaning in to nab her hand, he pulled her in the room.

  Then he shut the door on Olly’s smirking face.

  He turned to her, and before he could open his mouth, she was there.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “That was my question to you,” he shot back.

  “I … well,” she shook her head, “I’m a member. Well, I mean, my membership has lapsed, because it’s a whopper of a fee and I had a roof to pay for, among other things, and I wasn’t coming here, but I don’t think Aryas will mind this once, since he wants me back in the fold, so—”

  With his hand in hers he drew her closer and growled, “Angie.”

  She looked to the screens then to him.

  “Oh,” she whispered. “You’re doing a job for Aryas.”

  “He needed cover,” Branch bit out. “Now, baby, answer my fucking question.”

  “My friends wanted me back,” she said.

  “And the guy you’re sharing your bed with thought your ass was at home, watching TV.”

  “Branch—”

  “But instead, he saw you on the monitors hanging with a Dom who wants another crack at your pussy.”

  She swayed back.

  He pulled her forward.

  “I know all that happened, Evangeline.”

  “Okay,” she said softly.

  “And I know that guy doesn’t give a shit you’re a Domme. He’d go sub for ten minutes to get on his knees and beg you to partner with him.”

  “I don’t think Damian—”

  “He wants you, Angie. Doms work together all the time, that work gets hands-on between the Doms and you know it and he wants that with you. Again. And again. And a-fuckin’-gain.”

  Her eyes drifted to the screens as she murmured, “I was kind of getting that when he said he wanted to have dinner with me.”

  Branch’s vision exploded.

  “Say what?”

  She gave her attention back to Branch. “I said lunch. He said dinner.”

  “Babe, you’re not havin’ lunch with this guy.”

  “I—”

  “Repeat after me, ‘Branch, honey, I am not havin’ lunch or dinner or anything with this guy.’”

  She went still and stared up at him.

  “You’re not repeating after me,” he warned.

  She jerked like he’d forced her from a stupor and shifted toward him, putting a calming hand on his chest.

  “Branch, honey,” she started in that sexy voice of hers, “I’m not having lunch or dinner or anything with Damian.”

  “You are correct. You’re not.”

  “We’re exclusive,” she said, and Branch was too pissed to hear that it came shyly. “I don’t share. And clearly, you don’t share either.”

  “Correct again. I do not share. Not you.”

  She went silent and stared up into his eyes, standing close, smelling good, her hand on his chest.

  Branch just stared back, trying to get a lock on his temper.

  Eventually, she spoke. “You’re hot when you’re being all alpha-possessive.”

  “You can show your appreciation of that by fucking me raw and draining my dick dry when I’m not this pissed at you.”

  Her head tipped to the side with curiosity and not a hint of fear.

  “You’re pissed at me?”

  “Angie, you were in the hall of a sex club with another man.”

  “He invited me to watch a scene. Sixx is working.”

  “Angie, you were in the hall of a sex club with another man when I thought you were at home, alone, waiting for me.”

  Understanding clearly fully dawned because she gave him that look he’d only had once, but he’d become addicted to it at a glance, the so
ft one, before she got closer, slid her hand up to his neck and whispered, “I’m sorry. You’re right. I thought, since you were out working, not knowing you were working here, obviously, that seeing as everyone has been asking me to come back, and to make them feel better and think I am back, I’d take this opportunity to come into the Honey. Gab with some friends. See and be seen. Then go home.” Her hand at his neck gave a slight squeeze. “I wasn’t going to do anything, not with Damian, not with anybody. I didn’t even think I’d go back to the playrooms. But Sixx is working and, well…” She grinned. “Watching Sixx, a girl could get ideas.”

  “It goes without saying I’m all about you feeding your imagination, Angie. But if I’ve got shit to do that takes me away from you, you wanna hit the Honey, you let me know. I won’t hit it with you but I got an in to keep an eye on shit, and if it goes south, I’ll get a call so I can get my ass here.”

  Her fingers at his neck squeezed hard, and for a second, what was wafting off her filled the room.

  Then it cleared away.

  “Nothing will happen to me here, Branch,” she said softly.

  “I know,” he returned firmly.

  She quieted but that soft look came back, it was also warm, and he felt both in his gut, his dick, his balls and all through his chest.

  It felt phenomenal.

  However.

  “Are we understood?” he pressed.

  “We’re understood, Branch.”

  Hearing that, he walked direct to the wide-seated, comfortable rolling desk chair he’d vacated, dragging her with him. He sat in it, pulled her ass into his lap and leaned them both forward to turn the knob that would open comms to the earpiece Pat was wearing.

  “You keep patrol until I tell you you can come back,” he ordered into the room.

  “Sorry, repeat?” Pat’s voice could be heard asking.

  “You keep patrol until I tell you that you can come back.”

  “Doesn’t work that way, Dillinger.”

  “Does tonight.”

  “Dude—”

  “I got someone in here with me and we’re settled in.”

  “That is not on, Dillinger,” Pat returned irately. “No one but security and staff in—”

  “You call Aryas right now and ask if he’s cool with me sittin’ the night in control with one of his members. He’ll know what you’re sayin’ and he’ll tell you that you keep patrol until I tell you that you can come back. Now are you comin’ here and gettin’ in my face about this so we call Aryas together so he can tell you to back off and be pissed you interrupted him in whatever the fuck he’s doing right now? Or are you gonna keep patrol?”