dakota_trace_his_christmas_gift_myrnas (18 page)

He nodded. If she went to bed having skipped dinner,
she’d wake up tomorrow feeling like death warmed over because her sugar levels
would be out of whack.

“No problem. Why don’t you go up to our room, slave?
I’ll throw together something light for us to nibble on before we turn in for
the night. Didn’t you say something about wanting to watch
Ace of Cakes?”

She nodded with a smile. He knew she was addicted to
the American reality cooking show featuring a custom cake shop. “That’s right,
Master.”

“Go. I’ll be up shortly with our snack. Irish coffee
or cocoa?

She gave him a tired smile. “Cocoa sounds wonderful,
Master.” She turned and disappeared up the steps. Smiling, he turned to the
kitchen. Inside he flicked on the lights. He was in the process of preparing a
light snack of cheese, crackers and meats when the sharp retort of a gun had
him dropping the tray.

“Myrna!” He rushed up the stairs, his heart pounding
furiously. He broke into his room and slid to a stop in the open doorway to his
walk-in closet. He stared, then he rubbed his eyes in disbelief.

Standing in the center of racks of his clothing was a
steaming-mad Myrna. She was hovering over Grant Doherty, reading him the riot
act while he bled all over Amery’s Persian carpet.

“You shot me, you bitch!” Grant’s voice was hoarse
and broken with pain. Amery could see his hand pressed up high on his shoulder
trying to staunch the flow of blood. His slave must have caught him in the
walk-in closet trying to access the gun safe Amery kept there.
And she
wasn’t above using it on her husband. How the hell did I get so lucky?

Myrna scoffed. “You’re lucky I don’t shoot your arse
again, you rotten, lying, cheating son of a bitch. What the hell are you doing
in my Master’s closet? Stealing his money and jewelry…planning on stealing his
clothing too? Speaking of stealing, I can’t believe you took advantage of that
girl at the bank to take
my money!
” She kicked him in the stomach,
causing Grant to yelp then moan in agony. “Always wanting the easy way out.
Never wanting to take responsibility for your actions. Hell, you aren’t even a
Master in the truest sense of the word. You’re nothing more than a wannabe
jack-wagon dressing up and playing a role he can’t ever hope to fill. You’re a
pitiful excuse for a …”

On the floor Grant sputtered and tried to grab the
hem of Myrna’s skirt with his free hand. She jerked away.

“Hell no! You aren’t allowed to touch me anymore. I
have a Master, and unlike you, he loves my body and its responses just the way
they are.”

“Who? Amery?” Grant spat out the blood dripping out
of the corner of his mouth. He must’ve busted his lip on one of the shoe boxes
littering the floor around him. “He’ll just leave you like every other sub he’s
ever had once the newness wears off.”

“The hell I will.” Myrna jumped at his voice. Amery
lifted his hands as she swung around and leveled the gun at his chest. Her eyes
were furious and had a fanatical gleam in them. She was in mother-protective
mode. “Shh, it’s me, slave – your Master. He can’t hurt you anymore.” Her eyes
went from wild and angry to loving and submissive as his words sank in.

“Of course you are, Master.” Handing him the gun, she
gave him a triumphant smile. He gave a sigh of relief. By facing – even
defeating – Grant all her demons were now gone. Amery opened his arms and she
rushed into them.

Epilogue

Christmas Eve Night

“So that’s when Master says to me,” Myrna gave a deep
gravelly impression of Amery’s voice. “‘
Don’t think because you shot him,
it’s gonna get you out of your punishment for forgetting to mention he left a
threatening message on your machine, slave.’”
Myrna ruefully rubbed her hip
as if remembering the resulting punishment, before she opened the stove to
check on the spiced beef in the oven. The yeasty smell of Guinness tickled her
nose along with the smell of pepper, pimento, cinnamon, ground cloves and
ginger. Behind her, Nisey, her son’s submissive, moved closer with a giggle.

“I’ve heard the same tone of voice more than once.
Perhaps Master Alastar is where he learned it from.” Nisey commiserated. “How
did Amery find out anyway?”

“I forgot he had the remote access code to my
answering machine. I forgot to erase the second message. When we were in
Dublin, he called to check and heard it.” Myrna gave a sheepish grin. “Once he
confronted me about the second call, I was a good slave and confessed to the
first.”

“Trying to get out of more punishment would be my
guess.” Nisey wiggled her eyebrows.

Myrna nodded, using the baster to trickle the savory
juices over the meat. “Of course. I’m not stupid.”

Leaning in, the slender redhead gave an appreciative
sniff. “That smells wonderful, Mom.”

“Why thank you, Nisey.” Myrna gave her a smile. It
hadn’t taken her long to fall in love with Nisey after she’d met the young
woman who’d managed to steal her son’s heart. Especially while the young
submissive had offered her condolences about Grant’s death, she’d told Myrna
she was better off without the bastard. Then she’d asked if it was okay to call
her Mom. Her son’s little American sub was so full of spit and vinegar, Myrna
found it hard to believe she’d once been an abused sub. But the idea Nisey had
conquered her fears, a bastard Dom from her past, and
still
fallen in
love with Caelan made Myrna love her all the more.

“This is all
Maíster
has talked about since he
made the arrangements. He loves your spiced beef.” Nisey edged closer. “Perhaps
you’ll give me your recipe? So next year when you and Master Alastar come to
Chicago, I can make it for you?”

Olivia’s voice broke into their conversation. “You’d
better be inviting me too, young lady. I love Mom’s spiced beef.” The older
Domme had also been invited to the Christmas meal. Myrna sighed happily. Her
adoptive daughter had even brought along her own sub, a hulk of a man named
Jude, who was currently in the other room, talking with the rest of the men.
Even though her house was full of Masters and slaves, the titles weren’t being
observed. Just like any other Irish household, the women had somehow all
navigated towards the kitchen, while the men were around the set in Myrna’s living
room watching an American football game. Along with Nisey and Olivia, Kalinda -
Caelan’s
very
pregnant half-sister was sitting at the table peeling
potatoes.

“Quit being so bossy, Olivia.” Kalinda looked up from
the potatoes she was peeling. “Besides I’ll get the first invitation. After all
I am
Nisey’s best friend and the mother of her future niece and nephew.”

“That’s Mistress Olivia to you, brat!” With a big
smile, Olivia picked up the bowl of peeled potatoes and walked them over to the
stove.

Myrna smiled before taking the bowl. Then she focused
her attention on Kalinda. Her relationship with two Doms intrigued Myrna. While
she wasn’t terribly sure if she could handle the idea of having two Doms
herself, from what she’d witnessed, Kalinda was extremely happy. And the two
men seemed just as happy as their sub. She remembered the stern but loving
looks Kalinda’s Doms had given her before depositing her in the high-back chair
at the long oak table. The taller of the men, Joshuah, had grabbed a bowl of unpeeled
but washed potatoes from the counter, along with a paring knife. He’d warned
her to keep her feet up before bending his fair head to brush a kiss across
Kalinda’s brow. The other man, Dominic, who was a few inches shorter than
Joshuah with dark hair and swarthy skin, had reiterated his friend’s words
before pressing a kiss to her knuckles. There seemed to be no jealousies
between the two Doms. After getting her assurances she’d stay put, they’d
joined the rest of the men in the living room.

Olivia and Kalinda continued to pretend-bicker while
Myrna set the potatoes to boiling. When she finally turned back around, Myrna
placed her hands on her hips. “Enough, girls!” Both women fell silent and
averted their eyes. “So tell me, Kalinda, my dear. Exactly where is your
Dominic from? I can’t help but wonder. He’s got a very naughty accent.”
Unfamiliar with the different areas of the States, Myrna couldn’t help but be
intrigued.

“And he knows it.” Kalinda muttered what sounded
like, “
damn Cajun”
under breath. “He’s from New Orleans.”

Myrna cocked her head as she slid a tray of Irish
soda bread into the oven. “Dear, isn’t that were that horrible hurricane hit?”

“Yes. He lost his mother and sister in it.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Myrna wasn’t sure what else
to say, but was saved by the sound of masculine voices coming towards the
kitchen.

“…so the asshole died in the hospital from a staph
infection as a result of the wound he got escaping the Garda and not the bullet
wound? Talk about irony.” Jude’s deep laughter had Myrna smiling. She’d thought
it was rather poetic justice. She and Amery had gone to the hospital to serve
Grant with divorce papers, but when they’d arrived, they’d been greeted by a
doctor who’d told them Grant had expired.
The man had done things right at
the end. He’d saved me a ton of money by not having to divorce his ass.

“That’s what I thought too.” Amery’s voice was
jovial. She shivered with awareness when he entered the kitchen with Jude .
They were closely followed Dominic, Josh and Caelan. Each of the men headed
towards their mates the moment they all filed through the wide doorway.

“There’s my beautiful, slave, working over a hot
stove.” Amery pulled her against his body. He nuzzled her hair. “I love your
wonderful smell.”

“And I love you, Master, even if you’re just saying
that hoping you’re going to get lucky after Midnight Mass.” She couldn’t help
but tease him.

He pressed a kiss against her temple. “You bet your
sweet ass, slave.” His hand squeezed her bottom. She giggled, smacking his arm
playfully before scolding her son out of the corner of her eye. “Caelan, get
out of the pie!”

“Aw, Mum!” Caelan jerked his hand away from his
favorite mince pie. He stuck his icing-sugared finger into his mouth. 

* * * *

They were just clearing off the table after supper
when Kalinda, who’d been quiet most of the evening, gave a soft moan. Myrna was
placing the leftover food in the fridge, thoroughly content from the large
meal, when she turned to see fluid running down the inside of Kalinda’s legs.
The girl had a desperate look of fear on her face. “Oh my God.” Kalinda wrapped
her arms around her swollen body. Rushing to her side, Myrna helped a grimacing
Kalinda into the chair. “I think my water just broke.” Her words were barely
above a whisper and her frightened eyes found Myrna’s. “I need Master and Sir.”

“Nisey!”

Nisey and Olivia, who’d had their backs to Kalinda
while washing the dishes,  swung around at the urgent tone in Myrna’s voice.
When they saw the look on Myrna’s face and the desperation on Kalinda’s, they
both froze.

“You, Olivia, go get Josh and Dominic. Kalinda’s
water broke. Nisey have Caelan go and unbury Amery’s car and your rental.” A
light snow has started falling during the early afternoon and now the cars were
completely covered. “Tell the men there’s been a change of plans. We’re going
to the hospital instead of Midnight Mass. Olivia and Jude can ride with Amery
and me, while Dominic, Josh and Kalinda will ride with you and Caelan.”

The women rushed out of the kitchen. Moments later
there was a thundering of heavy male feet as the living room emptied. Josh and
Dominic came storming into the kitchen. They both rushed to Kalinda’s side,
looks of concern – even a touch of terror  – on their faces. 

Dropping to his knees next to the chair, Dominic took
her hands. “You just had to go and disobey the doctor didn’t you,
cheríe?”
He
looked up at Josh. “Why the hell did that quack tell us we had at least six
more weeks until we had to worry about this?”

Kalinda scowled at them. “Oh shut up, Master. The
doctor said he didn’t think we had anything to worry about. It’s not his fault
the babies decided they wanted to see Ireland firsthand.”

Josh’s hand squeezed Kalinda’s shoulder before
glaring at Dominic.

“Dominic, since our little spitfire rarely does
what’s expected of her, how can we expect our kids to be any different? Just
calm down before I kick your ass for upsetting our slave.”

Dominic blushed. “I’m sorry,
cheríe.
”

“Don’t be. I love the idea I still can occasionally
rattle my Master’s control.” She ran her hand through his dark hair.

Josh rubbed her tense shoulders, then leaned down to
press a kiss against her head. “Then consider my control rattled too,
Spitfire.” He looked up at Olivia who just came rushing back into the kitchen
with an armful of towels and Kalinda’s coat. “What the hell is taking Caelan so
long? If he doesn’t hurry up and these  kids are born in the backseat of a
rental car, I’m gonna kick his Irish ass.”

Myrna could only smile and shake her head when Dominic
told Josh he’d have to stand in line behind him.
Some things never change.
Women will continue to give birth and their men will continue to freak out.