Master of My Mind BN, страница 1часть #3 серии The Doms of Genesis
Master of My Mind
The Doms of Genesis, Book 3
Titles by Jenna Jacob
The Doms of Genesis Series
Embracing My Submission
Masters of My Desire
Saving My Submission (Coming Soon)
(With Shayla Black and Isabella LaPearl)
The Doms of Her Life Series
One Dom To Love
The Young and The Submissive
The Bold and The Dominant (Coming Soon)
Master Of My Mind
The Doms of Genesis, Book 3
Published by Jenna Jacob
Copyright 2014 Jenna Jacob
Cover Image by Dee Allen
ePub ISBN 978-0-9885445-4-3
If you have purchased a copy of this eBook, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book. This purchase allows you one legal copy for your own personal reading enjoyment on your personal computer or device. You do not have the rights to resell, distribute, print, or transfer this book, in whole or in part, to anyone, in any format, via methods either currently known or yet to be invented, or upload to a file sharing peer to peer program. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. If you no longer want this book, you may not give your copy to someone else. Delete it from your computer. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.
Look for more Jenna Jacob titles, soon to be released, at the end of this story.
Take a sneak peek at New York Times Bestselling Author Shayla Black’s brand new Wicked Lovers novel “Theirs to Cherish”
On sale now
TABLE OF CONTENTS
About The Author
An Excerpt from Theirs to Cherish by Shayla Black
I stood beneath the faded green awning staring at the gleaming mahogany casket. The sparkling brass handles mocked the warmth that had been ripped from my soul. A cold rain splattered upon the canopy while somber faced friends gathered beneath it to show their respect. Across the gravesite, seated in fabric covered, folding chairs, I watched as the well-rehearsed tears spilled down the cheeks of his ex-wife. His hateful daughter tried to soothe the ice queen’s theatrics. Neither woman was there to mourn the loss of the man I loved but to masquerade as grieving victims until the fat inheritance landed in their laps.
The monotone voice of the Minister resonated in my ears. None of his words of comfort penetrated the numb void that had consumed me for days. I was all but dead inside; just as dead as my beloved Master, who would soon be lowered into the black earth hollowed out below him. And God help me, I wanted to go with him. Not because I wanted to die but because I couldn’t imagine life without him.
The honorable George Bartholomew Marston, State Supreme Court Justice for the past four decades was being laid to rest. I felt as if I was outside my own body. Friends and family stood in a line before passing the casket one last time, placing blood red roses atop the gleaming wooden box. I felt as if I’d been transported into a macabre movie, one I could barely watch but helplessly had to endure.
George’s best friend and fellow judge, Reed Landes stepped up to the coffin; his eyes were rimmed red, and the distinguished man’s chin quivered. I swallowed back a sob. Pain wrapped its icy hands around my heart and squeezed. It was almost time to say good-bye: however that was beyond my comprehension.
A firm, steady hand enveloped my shoulder. Glancing up, I found myself gazing into the compassionate amber eyes of Mika LaBrache; friend, Dominant, and owner of the BDSM club, Genesis. I’d spent countless hours basking in my Master’s adoration at Mika’s club. His submissive, Julianna, dabbed at the tears on her cheek before smoothing a hand over her very pregnant belly. I couldn’t ignore how life mirrored death. A new life grew inside her. A life that she and Mika would love, protect, and cherish—while the soul that had loved, protected, and cherished me was gone. It was so fucking unfair.
“It’s time to lay your rose on the casket, Leagh.” Julianna wrapped her fingers around my arm as I glanced down at the blood red rose gripped in my fist. Opening my hand, tiny red dots blossomed in the center of my palm. The thorns were smeared in crimson. It seemed like hours had passed since Trevor handed me the flower. Strange, I had no recollection of it piercing my flesh.
“I can’t do it,” I choked, swallowing back the tears I’d held inside for days. Even knowing a part of me would be interred with George forever did little to ease my devastation. Sucking in a ragged breath, I willed myself to remain strong. I refused to allow George’s ex or daughter to revel in my pain or glean the depth of my love for him. They’d only use it as a weapon against me.
It had been humiliating enough, while standing on the church steps, when George’s ex-wife demanded I be barred from the memorial service. Luckily, Drake, an imposing leather Dom from Genesis, leaned down and whispered something into the haughty bitch’s ear. She’d sputtered and paled before she jerked her nose in the air and stormed inside the chapel. If it hadn’t been for Drake’s intervention, I never would have gathered the courage to attend the devotion. I’d shielded my grief from the hateful shrew then; I wasn’t about to let her see a chink in my armor now.
With a nod of understanding, Mika lifted the rose from my palm and set it atop the copious pile of flowers adorning the casket. When he returned, Julianna wrapped her arm around my waist, attempting to lead me from the gravesite. My entire body froze. I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to. Stepping from beneath the awning meant I’d be forced to face a future without George. Even more unbearable was the fact that I would be leaving him alone, entombed in the cold black earth.
“Can you give us a little help here?” Mika murmured to Tony Delvaggio, the familiar Dom, Sadist, Dungeon Monitor, and resident shrink of Genesis.
He was a hulk of a man who always called me “brat” to my face—and meant it. The same one, who set butterflies dipping and swooping in my stomach every time I caught him staring at me in the club. He was erotic beyond words, turning submissive heads—collared or not—every night at Genesis. Tony always sent my pulse racing, even now. It was ridiculous for him to affect me in such a way. Stupid even. I’d always been civil to the man, because he was a Dom and a friend of George’s, but his intense nature made my skin itch in a very uncomfortable way.
Julianna stepped aside as Tony slid a thick arm around my shoulder. He was warm and solid. I tried to ignore the way he made my heart skitter.
“I’ve got her, Mika. You just keep Julianna and that little bun in the oven dry. We’ll meet you back at the cars.”
Tony raised his umbrella. It opened with a whoosh before he maneuvered me from beneath the canopy. Somehow, I managed to put one foot in f
Anguish sliced deep. George was gone yet Julianna still had all the things I longed for. Even though she was one of my closest friends, envy burned spreading like a cancer through my veins. Tears stung my eyes as I cast my gaze toward the ground. The wet, brown grass blurred.
“Just a bit farther, Leagh,” Tony encouraged. His voice was husky and deep.
Glancing up at Tony, he gave me a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Sorrow and pity replaced his usual piercing gaze. “Are you going back to the church for the luncheon?”
I shook my head no. I couldn’t stomach the thought of sharing the same air with George’s pretentious ex-wife, Sloane or his snotty, spoiled daughter, Hayden. “I just want to go home.”
“No problem. I’ll take you.”
After settling me into his car, Tony jogged toward Mika. Through the rain splattered windshield, I watched the two men exchange a few words before Tony hurried back and climbed in behind the wheel. As he started the engine, I couldn’t help but exhale a heavy sigh. The funeral was over. Yet the anxiety and fears that had eaten at me for the past four days weren’t gone, they’d simply been replaced by new ones.
A long, unrelenting list spooled through my head. Most pressing, I had to find a job and a new place to live. Since Hayden was George’s only heir, I wouldn’t be welcome in his stately mansion after the will was read. Even though his elegant home on the shore of Lake Michigan had been my legal residence for the past two and a half years, his vile daughter would force me out as soon as she possibly could. I had a little reprieve though. Reed Landes, the executor of George’s estate, had assured me that I was welcome to stay until Master’s affairs had been settled. But the clock was ticking, and time was running out. The fairy tale was at its end.
Staring out the foggy window, I watched the scenery rush past while I tempered the growing ache to crawl into bed, snuggle between the sheets, and absorb the waning vestiges of George’s scent. Hold tight to his ghost for as long as possible before I had to find a way to say good-bye.
“If you need someone to talk to…someone to help you work through the stages. My door is always—”
“What stages, Tony?” I cut him off with a scathing glare. “There are no stages. There’s nothing but a hole in my heart the size of the universe. There’s not a damn thing you can do or say to wake me up from this nightmare.”
He cast a sideways glance, as his lips drew together in a narrow line. A wave of tension rolled off his body and filled the short distance between us. No doubt he was pissed at my snippy reply. Good. Maybe he’d shut up and drive and stop making me feel like one of his patients.
“There are stages,” he continued, dashing my dreams of a silent trip home. “You’re not ready to move past denial and anger yet. I get that. I’m simply extending the offer. When the time comes and you’re ready to start healing again, I’m here if you need to talk.”
“Healing?” A humorless laugh escaped my lips. “I’m trying to survive ten seconds at a time without falling apart at the seams. I haven’t even started thinking about healing.”
“There’s nothing wrong with falling apart. It takes time, but it will get better.”
“I’m not sure I want it to,” I murmured as he turned and drove up the long driveway.
It was my first trip back to the house since George died. Julianna and Mika had whisked me away to stay with them after Master’s body had been taken to the mortuary. I didn’t want to stay there alone. At the time, the thought of roaming from room to room, assaulted by his memories seemed painfully masochistic. But now I yearned to wrap the precious times we’d shared around me, savor them, and mourn the loss of my best friend, alone.
When Tony parked in front of the red brick and mortar steps, I turned to face him. “Thanks for the ride and um, for the offer to pick my brain. I’m going to pass for now, but I’ll see you around.”
Cold rain pelted my face as I hurried from the vehicle. Aware of Tony waiting for me to get inside safely, I dug out the keys from the bottom of my purse. Glancing up, I noticed an envelope taped to the front door. Scrolled in feminine penmanship was my name; Leagh Bennett.
I slid my key into the lock, but it wouldn’t turn. When I tried a second time, my heart sank. No doubt Hayden had done her worst. Tearing the note from the door, I pulled out the pages from within and began to read.
Please find enclosed a Restraining Order forbidding you from this property. There will be no other form of communication to you from either of us. My mother and I refuse to acknowledge your unique association with my father. Be advised that his upstanding reputation in the community, and courts, shall remain unblemished. Should you make any slanderous remarks hinting otherwise, we will file suit against you for defamation of character.
Your personal property is exactly where it belongs—on the side of the house—in the trash. Take what you can salvage and leave. You will be arrested for trespassing if you set foot on these premises ever again.
Good riddance. May you rot in hell!
As I stepped back from the door, the rain dripped from my hair, and slithered like cold fingers down my spine. Stunned by the note’s contents, I forced myself to re-read it once, then twice, while my guts turned to liquid. A tingling wave of panic spread through my limbs, and the tears I’d courageously fought for days filled my eyes and spilled down my cheeks.
“Leagh? Is everything okay? What’s that letter say?”
Turning toward the sound of Tony’s voice, I saw his torso poised between the partially opened car door and the frame. I knew he was watching me even though his face had blurred from my tears.
Realizing that all my belongings were shoved into the trash, I dropped the papers, my keys, and my purse and sprinted toward the side of the house. A mournful cry of despair, sounding more like the call of a wounded animal, tore from my throat and echoed in my ears.
Panting and crying, I flipped the lid of the garbage receptacle open. The scent of feces and decay permeated my senses. Stumbling back, I gagged and sucked in a breath of fresh air before peering inside. Paper plates filled with dog excrement had been placed on top of open and leaking cans of pungent tuna fish, and tomato paste, while raw and broken eggs jiggled as drops of rain landed upon the slippery membranes. A bottle of Italian salad dressing lay on its side, dripping oil and vinegar mixing in with the sludge. Gazing at the putrid concoction, I spied some of the expensive clothing Master had given me as gifts, saturated beneath the muck.
Rage thundered through me. Staring down into the slurry, I remembered how George would pull packages with big red bows from behind his back. “I like to spoil you with pretty things, my wild tiger cub.”
Anguish stabbed, slicing deep. Turning, I spotted a long branch that had fallen from the bare oak tree. Plucking it from the ground, I carefully slid the forked bough beneath the plates of dog poop and tossed them onto the grass. Spearing the sleeve of my favorite Chanel blouse, I lifted it from beneath the slimy mixture. The dusty pink silk had been shredded by sharp razor blades or scissors. It was totally ruined.
Rooting around the amalgam, I shoved my wet hair from my face, desperate to find one piece of salvageable clothing. But each and every item had been obliterated by Sloane and Hayden’s savagery. Why had they done such a vile thing? It wasn’t as if I’d stolen the man away from either of them. It was my understanding that Sloane had wanted out of the marriage, at least that’s how George had explained it. He’d been relieved to be rid of the shrew. The bitch’s venomous cruelty made no sense, whatsoever.
When I spied the handcrafted wooden box that stored my collar, hope soared. Using the branch, I lifted it from the barrel and carefully lowered it to the ground. Easing open an unsullied corner, I lifted the lid. My treasured leather collar had been cut
Dropping the lid down, I threw my head back. An inhuman cry of anguish erupted from deep in my belly, and fury exploded outward. Seeing red, I shoved the receptacle onto its side and fell to my knees. Tears streamed down my face as I poked through the slop, cursing and screaming in search of one miniscule memento of my life with George that the malicious bitches hadn’t destroyed.
“Hey. Stop, Leagh. Stop!” Tony’s urgent command and strong arms wrapped me from behind, strangling my hot rage. Pinning my arms against my sides, he rendered me immobile. I shrieked and struggled, resenting the hell out of his interference.
“Calm down. There’s nothing left for you here.”
“I know that, goddammit! Do you think I’m blind? Those whores destroyed it all. They took every piece of him away from me. I have nothing. Nothing!” I screamed.
“Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”
“No!” I snapped. “There’s got to be something in there. Something they haven’t ruined. Let me go. I need to find it. I need to find…something.”
“Don’t do this, sweetheart. Don’t let them wreck your soul. Come on. We need to get out of the rain.”
“Fuck you! Fuck them! Fuck the rain! Fuck everything!” Ranting, I tossed the stick aside and clawed from Tony’s grasp. Scooting away, tears flowed as Sloane and Hayden’s malice shredded what was left of my heart.
Tony crouched, staring at me as rain dripped down his face. His wet dark hair was plastered against his head. And his dark tailored suit had grown wrinkled and soggy. Gazing into his eyes, I watched his concerned expression transform to a sympathetic frown. My blood boiled.