He rattled off his order—pancakes with chocolate chips, bacon, sausage, ham, and eggs with cheese—then looked at Iris. “What do you want, sweetheart?”
“Just coffee,” she said quietly.
“And some toast,” Majesty added. “You need to eat. Babygirl, place your order.”
“Can I do it after we’re finished talking?” I asked. My mind was more on figuring out what was wrong with Iris.
“Don’t forget. Until then, she’ll have a coffee with cream and sugar,” he said to Julie.
Once Julie left, Majesty squeezed my shoulder. “I’m going to go talk to Arlo and Reese for a bit. Give you two some privacy. But I’ll be right over there if you need me.”
“Thank you, Sir,” I said.
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and moved to the other table, pulling up a chair and immediately engaging Arlo in conversation.
I turned to Iris. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
Her lower lip trembled. “I used my safe word last night. They didn’t stop.”
My blood ran cold. “What?”
“We were in a scene, and I said yellow. Asked them to slow down. They didn’t. So I said red. Clear as day. Red.” Tears started falling. “And they just kept going. Said I was being dramatic. That I needed to toughen up.”
“Iris.” I grabbed her hand. “That’s not okay. That’s a violation of your agreement with them. Isn’t there somebody we can talk to?”
I had to admit that I didn’t know who that person would be, and that was an issue, too. Outside of our arrangement, who would I talk to if I felt violated. Shelly? Her husband Harrison? Howard? What if it was here on the Ranch? Was Derek the only person? What would happen when I did tell?
“I know. But this morning they were talking about bringing in another submissive. To show me how a ‘real sub’ acts. Like I’m the problem.”
Before I could respond, Sampson appeared at our table smiling kindly. “Hey, ladies. Mind if I join you?”
“Please,” I said.
Sampson settled in, then gestured to a woman standing near the entrance. “This is Dr. Angela Crosby. She’s Renee’s therapist and a good friend of mine. Iris, can she talk to you for a moment?”
Iris looked confused but nodded. “Okay.”
Dr. Crosby was a kind-looking woman in her forties with a streak of gray hair in the front and warm brown eyes. “Iris, would you mind stepping aside with me? Just for a quick chat?”
Iris looked at me, and I nodded encouragingly. She stood and followed Dr. Crosby toward a quiet corner of the cafe.
“How did you know?” I asked Sampson.
“Scarlett called me this morning. She’s been worried about Iris for weeks, and when she heard what happened last night, she knew it needed to be addressed. Aiden is talking to Derek right now.”
“Derek?” I asked.
“Yeah, he doesn’t tolerate safe word violations. Period.”
As if summoned, I saw Aiden approach the table where Iris’s two Dominants sat. Derek was with him, along with some other guy. He was tall, maybe 6’4” or 6’5”, curly black hair, wore jeans, a flannel, black hat–I think it was called a Stetson, and some gator-skin looking boots. Even from across the cafe, I could see the barely restrained tension in their expressions.
The conversation was brief and clearly not pleasant. Both men stood, their faces red with either anger or embarrassment. Derek gestured toward the door, and they followed him out. Aiden and the tall man went with them, and I watched Arlo and Majesty exchange a look before standing and following as well. Suddenly, the cafe felt very quiet without the Dominants.
Reese came over to our table, sliding into the booth. “I’ve never seen them all that angry before. What happened?”
I looked at Renee, who nodded. “Iris’s Dominants didn’t honor her safe word.”
Reese’s eyes went wide. “Oh no. No wonder Derek looked ready to commit murder. He doesn’t play about the house rules.”
