“Madison needs more.”

  “Like what? I’m trying to stay one step ahead of that bastard she’s married to—”

  “You’ve kept her out of Todd Pershing’s clutches. Hats off. The good news is, he ain’t coming here unless he has a death wish,” Jack drawled. “But how are you helping her cope with the fucking upheaval in her life? Four days ago, she lived with one of the most influential families in this country, probably in one of the ritziest neighborhoods. She didn’t worry about someone violently snuffing her out. Now she’s trying to cope with that and the loss of everything she knows. How are you helping her?”

  Matt swallowed. The short answer was, he hadn’t done nearly enough. Madison had come to him for protection. First, he’d pawned her off on Nash. It had seemed logical…but how much of that had been him protecting his heart? Then after Nash had nearly given his life to save hers, how had he soothed and calmed her? By fucking her rough and dirty on the nearest flat surface.

  Matt winced. “How do I give her security and structure and everything she needs? I’m making this up as I go. By myself, I can’t fight a family like the Pershings. They’ll squash me.”

  “They absolutely will. But you’re not alone in this. Let’s break it down. Deke is negotiating on your girl’s behalf. He’ll cut a deal that will allow Madison to get on with her life. In the meantime, your bosses will keep your ass covered, so to anyone in the surveillance state, it will look like your schedule and behavior haven’t changed much, except maybe you took a staycation around the holiday. They’ll probably also assign someone to stay in your house to fend off any potential ‘fact-finding’ intruders.”

  Likely Ethan. Since joining the team, the kid hadn’t put down much in the way of roots, jumping from one party girl’s bed to another temporary pad. And as much as Matt disliked the idea of the asshole in his personal space, that was hardly his biggest concern. “You’re right.”

  “And I’ll keep you two in food and necessities, so take all those worries off your plate. Any others you need help with so you can start addressing hers?”

  Matt bristled at the challenge in the terse Cajun’s tone. “No. I’ve been up in my own head about some personal shit, but I realize Madison needs more than a basic protector.”

  Hadn’t he suspected that for a while? Yeah, and he felt like a shit for not being there for her sooner.

  Jack cocked his head, his dark eyes dissecting. “I’m going to cut to the chase. You want to know how, in a few minutes, I got her from being too afraid to take my hand and get in the boat to trusting me with her safety and even calling me ‘sir,’ right?”

  “Yeah. You stood up taller and seemed to project authority while you demanded she do what you told her.”

  “I commanded her to do something that, deep down, she needed but was afraid to. I not only assured her that she would be perfectly safe, but I gave her approval to let go of her fear. And I injected just enough edge in my voice to let her know I would be displeased if she failed to acquiesce. Then I verbally rewarded her bravery and obedience.”

  “That sounds like the way a parent talks to a child.”

  “I’m well aware that she’s a woman—a very frightened one.” Then Jack dropped a bomb. “But she’s also a submissive.”

  Matt’s gut tensed. “You don’t know that. You don’t know her.”

  But hadn’t he already suspected that?

  “After a couple of decades in the lifestyle, I see her. She’s sweet. She’s compliant. And she’s a pleaser.”

  Being the silly little pleaser I was, I bleached my hair.

  “I’ll bet”—Jack drawled—“she’s consented to do things—things you asked or demanded of her—that surprised you. And the fact she loved them shocked you even more. Am I wrong?”

  When you stare at me like you own me and you growl my name…I want to drop to my knees and beg you.

  Holy shit. How had the big Cajun picked up on Madison’s cues so quickly? Was he psychic and crazy?

  “Fuck.”

  “You’re catching on. Good.”

  “How is it good to crawl around in her head and demand she do and say things she wouldn’t normally, just because I want her to? My dad does this to women. It’s a pattern he repeats over and over. He ran my mom off when I was just a kid. His last girlfriend couldn’t take it anymore and, in a pleading, screaming, crying fit, blew her brains out all over his kitchen. I don’t want to be responsible for that. Madison is smart and kind. But she’s fragile, and she doesn’t deserve my bullshit.”

  Jack froze, those dark eyes of his like a crowbar forcing their way into Matt’s psyche. “You’re looking at this wrong, mon ami. Think of it as taking the control you require while giving her the foundation she needs. And in case you haven’t guessed, she does those things that shock you because she wants to. She wouldn’t do them otherwise. Your demands give her mental permission. They tell her that her desires are okay.”

  “That doesn’t make them good for her.”

  “You’re right, and I’m glad you’re thinking about how she’ll feel after she lets you bend her to your will. That tells me where your head is.”

  “Fucked up like my dad’s.”

  Jack sent Matt a dubious stare. “Does your dad ever put his partner’s needs, desires, or wellbeing above his own?”

  “No, and when shit goes south, nothing is ever his fault.” It made Matt sick. Dad hadn’t pulled the trigger when Nicole killed herself, but he’d driven her to despondency, then taken zero responsibility.

  “And if I had to guess, you’re shouldering at least half the blame for the fact Madison is close to crumbling.”

  “How could I not?”

  “Then you’re not your dad, who sounds like a selfish, bullying asshole.”

  “Why are you telling me this? She’s not going to feel stronger in the face of a murder threat just because I take her to bed and insist she give into my demands.”

  “She’s not,” he agreed. “A fraction of a submissive’s needs are actually about sex. What she needs most now is your emotional support. If you can coax her into giving you her worries, she’ll feel less like she’s in this fucking mess alone, and she’ll be more centered. But you’re not stupid. You know sex is an outlet for fear and stress, so I wouldn’t be afraid to give it to her, if she’s amenable. I’ll give you a good tool to help you be very clear that she’s consenting every step of the way and that she’s comfortable with everything you’re doing.”

  Tool? “Why?”

  “As a Dominant, my first responsibility is always to the submissive, and I’d be remiss if I left Madison bleeding with need. I’m not coming onto her. Morgan is my wife, the mother of my children, and my treasured submissive. I make sure she knows every day that I love and worship her, so let’s get that out of the way. But I can’t, in good conscience, leave Madison here with you and not do my best to persuade you to step in and properly care for her.”

  “I’m not a Dominant.”

  Jack cocked a brow. “Are you sure?”

  What he knew about BDSM could fit in a thimble. Sure, he’d heard of it. And he knew people involved in it. He couldn’t deny the idea of tying Madison down and having her completely at his mercy excited the fuck out of him. But he’d been afraid to ask questions or rouse that side of him that would dive in deep and gorge in carnal delight.

  “I don’t…” Matt sighed. “I’m not sure I know anything right now.”

  He’d seen the movie about this stuff, based on that famous book. Not all of it had connected for him. Matt loved the idea of being the master of Madison’s pleasure, but he was no sadist.

  “I’ve got another ten minutes before I should go, and a lot of information to impart, so I need you to listen carefully. We have a mantra in the lifestyle: safe, sane, and consensual. You never do anything to her that’s dangerous.”

  “Of course not.” Jesus, he wasn’t reckless or stupid.

  “Sane and consensual you can ensure by employing a safe word and adhering to it. Do you know what that means?”

  “Something she can say to stop me if it’s too much?”

  “Exactly. Make her pick one—not something she’d normally say during sex. Nothing like ‘oh, baby’ or ‘harder.’

  “What’s wrong with just no?”

  Jack quirked a smile. “Some people like a spicy side of dub con with their role play.” His confusion must have shown, because the Cajun went on. “Dubious consent. Rape fantasies.”

  Matt recoiled. “I’m… That’s…. No.”

  “So that’s your hard limit. You need to ask for hers and tell her yours before things start. Then you need to respect them. In fact, you two should communicate about everything.”

  “We haven’t been good at that in the past.”

  “Learn. Make her tell you what she wants. Especially make her admit how she feels about whatever you’re doing and the two of you together. Be willing to share the same. If she safe-words out, then you stop everything immediately, and the two of you start talking. If she pleases you, you tell her. If she doesn’t, you reprimand her.”

  “And if she doesn’t listen?” Was he really thinking about trying this with Madison?

  Jack’s smile widened. “You withhold orgasm. It’s usually more effective than a spanking, since too many submissives find those a pleasure all their own. And I’m guessing she can’t handle much in the way of negative consequences now. That’s understandable.”

  The spanking intrigued Matt…something light and fun, just enough to turn Madison’s skin pink while he watched. Hell, yeah. But he would never do anything like that to her now. Without Jack telling him, he knew she was too fragile.

  “These same basic principles apply out of the bedroom. Focus on what she needs; that always comes first,” the Cajun continued. “You have to bathe her in positive reinforcement. Convince her you’re there with and for her.”

  Matt wasn’t opposed to that…but he knew Madison. That would make her emotionally dependent on him. And what would his twisted head and depraved sex drive do with that? Would he, in the heat of the moment, cross some line they couldn’t come back from?

  With great power comes great responsibility.

  Stan Lee might not have been the first to say that, but he’d been a genius.

  “This is a lot at once. I have to think.”

  “If you don’t want to question your sexuality or test my theory right now, I get it. But it would be better for everyone if you stopped worrying about what’s in your head and started focusing on what’s in hers. You’re her last line of defense out here. That makes her safety your responsibility. But you have to care for her psyche, too. So establish some common-sense rules and gently but firmly enforce boundaries for her. Commend her when she complies, withhold your praise or reward when she doesn’t. It’s not enough to try to make her safe; do your best to ensure she feels safe. Once you’ve taken care of her, the rest will figure itself out.

  “I’ve thrown a lot at you at once, and there’s too much to tell you in a few minutes’ time,” Jack continued with a grimace. “If you’re serious about giving this a try, the little gold key on the ring I just handed you opens the door at the end of the hall. In there, you’ll find some lifestyle books for beginners…and lots of toys to help you establish your Dominance.” Jack winked. “Since you’re a whiz with security alarms, I won’t bother with that explanation.” He rattled off the six-digit code. “Everything else around here should be self-explanatory. If you need to contact me, there’s a HAM radio. Good luck…”

  Chapter Eleven

  After Jack recorded Madison’s eyewitness statement of Brent’s murder and her harrowing escape in the stairwell, he waved and glided away in his pontoon boat. Matt raised the brim of his hat and looked back at the cabin. He and Madison might be alone here for a day, a week, or a month. Regardless of how long it took for Deke to make a deal, the Cajun had been very clear. She needed safety and emotional security from him. He’d better not fuck it up.

  Now if he could just figure out how…

  Sighing, he headed back into the cabin and immediately smelled bacon. His stomach rumbled. He caught sight of Madison. She’d braided her hair again, exposing the graceful angles of her face, but she looked pale and drawn as she stood over the stove, tongs in hand, watching the strips sizzle.

  “Let me help you,” he offered, tossing his hat on the counter as he tried to slide in front of the pan.

  She didn’t budge. “I can cook bacon.”

  “I know you can, honey. But I don’t expect you to.”

  Madison wouldn’t meet his stare. “It’s fine.”

  It wasn’t, and he didn’t appreciate her lie, even if it was white and seemingly polite. She was upset for reasons he didn’t grasp. It wasn’t merely a mood; she’d been cordial—even respectful—to Jack. Except in the most superficial way, Matt knew she was avoiding him.

  You two should communicate about everything. Make her tell you what she wants. Especially make her admit how she feels about whatever you’re doing and the two of you together. Be willing to share the same…

  He dropped a gentle palm on her shoulder. “Madison?”

  When she stiffened, Matt dropped his hand and bit back a curse.

  “Do you want eggs?” she asked.

  “If you’re making some, sure. I’ll grab you some toast.”

  “I got it.” She scrambled eggs in a bowl so hard, her arm shook.

  He sighed. “Okay, but I want to talk. You’re upset about something.”

  She finally lifted her face to him. Tears sheened her eyes. It took everything inside him not to wrap his arms around her and take away whatever strain he could. But since she didn’t want him touching her, he guessed he’d said or done something to upset her.

  “Madison, I know you’re tired and under a lot of strain. I realize I haven’t always done a great job of handling things between us.” He tried to paste on a self-deprecating grin. “My communication style is…shit. I think to myself, and it doesn’t always occur to me to tell you what’s in my head. I’m sorry. We’re going to be here together for a while, so I’ll try to be better.”

  She looked at him, a frown etched between her brows. “Do you have any idea why I’m upset?”

  Not really, but at least she was talking to him. “Beyond the danger you’re in?”

  She scoffed bitterly as she plucked the bacon out of the pan with tongs and laid each strip on a nearby paper towel. “The last few days have honestly felt like a hundred years, so that shit almost seems normal now.”

  His heart broke for her. “But it’s not. I’m going to protect you.”

  He felt her dejected sigh like a physical pain. “I know you’re doing everything you can. You dropped your life. I screwed up your work, your holiday—”

  “You didn’t. And I don’t care about fucking fireworks. I care about what’s upsetting you. Tell me.”

  She bit her lip. “I’m scared that someone found me at Nash’s so quickly. I have no idea how…”

  He didn’t believe that’s what had her near tears, but he’d play along since that had been bugging him, too. “If I had to guess? Once the senator realized you’d skipped town and headed to Lafayette, they probably started watching my communications. Nash was the first person I came in contact with after you arrived in town. His apartment is crawling with video surveillance because most of the tenants are college kids. I thought we’d disguised you, but not well enough to evade their facial recognition.”

  Matt had underestimated Todd’s reach and ruthlessness. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  “That’s terrifying.” She poured the eggs into the sizzling pan and grabbed a spatula.

  “I know. But be honest. You’re not weepy because your in-laws are dangerous. You knew that,” he pointed out as he dropped bread in the toaster for her. “It’s something I’ve said or done.”

  Madison didn’t say anything for a long minute, merely scrambled the eggs until they were fluffy, added salt and pepper, then divided them onto two plates, along with the bacon before handing him his food. “And if you don’t know what, then it doesn’t matter. Let’s just focus on getting through this train wreck alive, okay?”

  No, it wasn’t okay, but it was more important for her to eat now than for them to argue.

  In the next instant, her toast popped up, breaking the silence. Matt turned and plucked up the slice, then slid it onto her plate. “Sit down. I’ll get you some butter.”

  She grabbed a fork and set her plate on the eat-in bar. “I can get it.”

  Of course, but that wasn’t the point. He stepped in front of her, blocking her path, and stared straight down at her. “I said I’ll get it.”

  Madison backed up at the low rumble of his voice. Was he scaring her…or getting through to her?

  “Fine.” She rounded the bar and slid onto her stool, waiting patiently.

  He brought the butter and a knife, then slid onto the next seat. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks,” she mumbled as she spread it on her toast, not meeting his stare.

  They ate in silence, Matt reflecting on Madison’s sudden acquiescence. Granted, she’d given in about butter, not anything actually important, but his impromptu experiment suggested he should be more assertive until they had cleared the air and she believed he’d take care of her.

  It was up to him not to fail.

  Once they finished their food, she slipped away for a quick shower. Jack’s keyring was burning a hole in Matt’s pocket. He was dying to know what the Cajun had locked behind that door, but he’d wait until he could investigate without Madison stumbling in. No need to scare her in case the contents were heavy on the whips and chains.

  Did she know she was submissive? That was an interesting question…

  As the shower ran, Matt cleaned up the kitchen. Once he’d finished, the bathroom was open, and a perfumed cloud of citrusy steam tumbled into the hall. The closed door told him she’d shut herself in the bedroom.

  The two of them couldn’t go on without some honesty. On a lot of levels, she didn’t trust him. He’d try to fix that once he had a shower. It was crucial in case Todd’s goons caught up to her again. The difference between Madison’s life and death might be listening to him if he told her to run.