Fabulous, just what she needed, a sub with no freaking limits.
“I’ll deal with it, Jennifer.” Dread filled her belly as she turned and headed up the stairs. She really didn’t have the energy todealwith a submissive who possessed no self-preservation instincts—to some Doms,no limitsmeant a smorgasbord of pain and humiliation.
For her, it was a huge pain in the ass. Limitless submissives were dangerous to themselves, and had been known to drag a Dom down with them when they crashed and burned in a scene.
Violet strolled down the hallway, turning left and following it past the residential rooms to the small selection of themed playrooms at the very end of the upper level.
The themed rooms—Garden, Star, Air, Fire, and Water—were deliberately built inside the clubhouse, keeping them separate from the hardcore BDSM areas. They were designed more for emotional scenes, without any added pressure from outside sources.
She could admit they weren’t her favorite rooms to scene in—they were too calm and tranquil, giving her mind too many avenues to wander toward things she didn’t want to explore—but she appreciated both the beauty of them, and their purpose.
For a moment, she paused outside the door to the Garden Room, straightening her shoulders, her spine, subtly forcing herbody to adopt the stature of Mistress Violet. Bit by bit, she became the persona she was learning to hate.
Clenching her teeth, she opened the door and walked in, turning to close it.
Almost immediately, the hairs on her arms and nape quivered, rising like tiny seedlings to lean toward the sun. She sucked in a breath, filling her lungs with that spicy tobacco scent, and comprehended what a monumental mistake she’d made by not listening to her instincts.
His presence commanded the room, as fucking always.
BoudreauxmotherfuckingFontenot.
Violet tightened her grip on the handle, already swinging the door open again.
“Running away so soon, Bennie?”
That goddamn French accent, she fumed silently. It was one of the most powerful weapons in his arsenal, one she’d been helpless against for far too long. The asshole knew how to use it to its full effect, had learned how to let his voice purr and croon, play with words like lyrics in a song. He was adept in tones, possessing extensive knowledge in how each variation affected people, men and women alike.
“Walking away,” she fired back coldly, “before I commit murder.”
“Mmm, so bloodthirsty now. Perhaps I should not tease… after all, I’ve seen what you can do with barbed wire.”
The touch of pride in his voice lit a fire under her ass she couldn’t contain. Slamming the door shut, she spun and glared at him. Damn the fucker, he hadn’t changed since the last time she’d seen him, had he? Couldn’t even do the decent thing and age like any other asshole.
No, he was utterly, sinfully gorgeous—fully aware of it, too—and just as fucking cocky.
Taking over the wicker chair like a throne, one ankle propped on the opposite knee, Boudreaux rested his elbow on the arm of the chair and his chin on his fist. The charcoal suit he wore strained in several places, and she had no doubts he was still as fit as he’d been a year ago.
Because, apparently, the asshole was a time-defying god.
“I’m not playing your games, Fontenot.”
“Oh, Bennie, Bennie, Bennie… this is not a game.” Growling under his breath, Boudreaux unfolded himself and rose, shooting his cuffs. “It’s time to come home, Violet. I built you an empire; it needs its queen.”
Her lip curled into a sneer. “I’m sure one of your floosies would love the chance.”
“Jealousy is quite attractive on you, beignet. I forgot how eloquently you tell me to fuck off with your eyes.” With his gaze focused on her face, his blue-green eyes more blue now, he stalked toward her. “Tired. Stressed. Miserably unhappy. This is not the place for you,chérie,however much you wish it.”
“Take another step and I’ll show you exactly what I’m wishing for.” She shouldn’t be surprised he was going straight for the throat—Boudreaux was a man who went for the jugular, no matter what. Lying wasn’t in his repertoire. “Serenity is where I belong. Just because you show up in your fancy suit after all this time doesn’t mean shit.”
Of course, he didn’t listen.
Before he trapped her with her back against the door, Violet stepped past him, spinning to keep him in view. Already, her body was leaning toward him, remembering how it felt to be held tight in his arms, pinned underneath him, joined with him in a way that transcended the physical act.
Her long-dormant libido woke slowly with a yawn and purredHello, Daddy.
“Twelve years, three months, two weeks, and six days—the sum total of our time together,” Boudreaux crooned, prowling around her, forcing her to keep moving if she wanted to protect her back. “Four thousand, four hundred and ninety-two days with you, Bennie. You’ve consumed my thoughts during each and every one, together and apart.”
She snorted derisively before the sentiment of his statement sank into her heart and softened her resolve. “Don’t act like I walked away and broke your heart. You don’t get to play the victim card here, Boudreaux—I wasn’t enough for you, you let me know that in no uncertain terms, and you kicked me loose without a second thought.”
