Perfectly Paired Masters and Mercenaries Page 2

  Chef’s eyes had rolled to the back of his head. “I didn’t have my damn balls cut off. I had a vasectomy, you moron.”

  “Same difference.” Big Tag sank to the chair Sebastian had occupied. “Bud’s left us for the female majority. He just follows the girls around. I think it’s because the twins are so good at dropping food everywhere. But it’s left me and the little man here on our own testosterone-wise.” He put a hand on the bundle on his chest before looking over at Sebastian. “So you in or out?”

  “Why would I be out?” He didn’t understand the complex relationship the Taggart brothers seemed to have. There were four of them including younger twins Case and Theo, and they were ruthlessly sarcastic with each other. It seemed to be how they communicated. It was a completely different language than the one he spoke.

  Chef held up a hand. “We haven’t gotten there yet.”

  A tiny fist made its way outside the bundle. Big Tag reached out, letting the fingers curl around his forefinger. “What? Why haven’t you gotten there? It’s a simple question. Dude, will you take over the baby Doms for me? There’s a new crop coming in and they need to be sown. Otherwise they’ll all be like ‘brah, let’s go spank some bottoms and drink craft beer’ and then I’ll have to murder them. Seriously. I’ve been told not to murder them. Millennial Doms. Has it really come to this?”

  And he was lost. “Millennial Doms?”

  Chef put out a hand as though trying to slow things down. “It’s a favor he’s doing for Adam.”

  “I lost a bet,” Big Tag said.

  Chef shook his head. “Or you’re being a genuinely nice guy helping out a man who worked for you for years.”

  “Lost a bet,” Big Tag insisted.

  Chef sighed. “Adam and Jake have worked for McKay-Taggart for years, but they’ve got a new company they want to start that will specialize in missing persons. They have a new software program that aids in facial recognition, but there’s a little issue of another company competing for a similar patent. We all know Adam’s process is better, but this company has a shit ton of money and could hold him up for years in court. The company is a tech firm based here in Dallas and owned by a man named Milo Jaye.”

  “Ah, the social media magnate.” Jaye was young but seemingly very serious. He wasn’t a Steve Jobs type who enjoyed media attention. “So you’ve worked some kind of deal with him? What could Adam give him that he can’t buy for…” The answer hit him. “Ah, he wants a Sanctum membership.”

  Sanctum was the club Ian Taggart ran. A very exclusive BDSM club that had been started by the original members of the security firm McKay-Taggart. It had morphed into a play place for the rich and powerful. And the poor and playful who worked for or aided the Taggart brothers. He’d discovered that it was about half and half on the ridiculously powerful versus people Ian flat out liked.

  Taggart had also been known to use the club to his own ends, making friends who could help out the company from time to time. Having the Dallas chief of police as a member guaranteed that McKay-Taggart’s infrequent brushes with the law got handled quietly. In exchange, the company aided in any investigation the police asked of them. DPD often consulted with Eve McKay on profiles of potential criminals.

  Big Tag patted the bundle on his chest. “Root around all you like, buddy. Nothing coming out of there.” He looked back at Sebastian. “Yes, Milo Jaye wants a membership and he’s bringing some women with him. I think he’s trying to set up a harem or something. Dude’s a freak, but hey, no one cares when you’re a billionaire.”

  “He’ll drop the lawsuit if he gets the required training to gain Master rights at Sanctum,” Chef explained. “I personally think this was his play all along and we could have avoided this entirely if Ian had simply let the man in a training class.”

  “You know how I feel about douchebag names.” Big Tag shook his head.

  A groan came from Chef’s mouth. “He has a list.”

  “Arlo, Milo, Kylo,” Big Tag began. “Basically all the o’s. Except dildo. If someone is named Dildo, I’ll totally let them in. Ephram, Jeremiah. Basically anyone who sounds like they do civil war reenactments on weekends. Then you’ve got the moneybags. Chet, Thad, Brock. Oh, and anyone named Chazz. If you sound like you belong on a reality dating show, you’re out.”

  “Because Seth doesn’t rank on any of those lists,” Chef shot back.

  Big Tag shrugged. “Not my call. Charlie shot down John Wayne Taggart. Apparently when you shove a ten-pound baby out your hoo haw, you get naming rights. Also, I have zero intention of ever letting this one or the girls anywhere near my club. They can start their own. So will you do it?”

  “Do what?” His head was kind of spinning. He wasn’t sure if he was being asked to do something at the club or change his name to something more manly than Sebastian.

  He was probably going to turn them down on the latter.

  “Will you take on a private training class with a billionaire and decide whether or not he gets access to the club?” Big Tag huffed a little like Sebastian needed to get with his highly reasonable program.

  Chef held out a hand. “Don’t fall into his trap. He’s not telling you the whole story.”

  He got the feeling he was going to need to sit down again. Unfortunately, Big Tag and his ten-pound addition were occupying the chair he’d sat in previously. He eased into the one to Big Tag’s right. “What’s the catch?”

  “He wants a sub to train his females. Another female. Preferably one who can relate to them,” Chef explained. “And he would prefer a couple. He wants a long-term D/s couple to train him and his subs.”

  “There are several couples who would fit the bill.” Why were they asking him? He didn’t even have a submissive he played with on a regular basis. “Deena and Eric would be excellent.”

  Eric and Deena Vail were a lovely couple who happened to be regulars at Sanctum. Sebastian admired the hell out of Eric, who was taking on the role of executive chef at the new Fort Worth Top.

  “Yeah, Eric’s kind of busy with the opening,” Chef replied. “If I ask him to do anything else, he might explode. I know you’re busy, too, but it’s not your name on the door. And Deena’s got her hands full.”

  He got why the two Taggarts in the room couldn’t handle it. Their wives had recently had babies. “You have two other brothers. They both have subs.”

  Big Tag shook his head. “Nah. Case and Mia would work well, but Mia’s on a story and I can’t count on her to be around. It’s the private jet. Give a woman a personal jet and she takes off. As for Theo and Erin, well, Theo’s still kind of a bag of cats when it comes to memory and Erin would likely shoot the subs if they annoyed her. She’s cool that way. So really it’s just you. It makes sense when you think about it. Outside of Wade, you spend the most time in the club working. Wade’s working with the bodyguard unit at McKay-Taggart right now so he can’t do the extensive training needed to make it look good with a sub.”

  Yes, and there was still a problem with the scenario. Wade Rycroft was the Dom in residence at Sanctum, but apparently his day job was getting in the way. Sebastian had problems of his own. “I don’t have a sub.”

  There was a knock on the door and it opened suddenly. Tiffany Hayes stood there wearing jean shorts, flip-flops, and a shirt that explained how she spoke fluent sarcasm. Her blonde hair was in a messy bun on top of her head and apparently she’d been called away from her art. Not only were there flecks of paint on her hands, there was a nice streak of blue by her chin.

  Deep blue. Like her eyes.

  “I’m so sorry, Chef.” She started to back out. “I didn’t realize you were having a meeting. Anyway, I’m here. I came as soon as I got your message. I’ll wait out in the front.”

  Chef shook his head. “Don’t bother. Come inside. You’re a part of this meeting, too. I need you to be Sebastian’s submissive for a few weeks.”

  What the hell was happening? At least he had a partner now. Going up against the Taggarts on his own might have been tough, but now Tiffany would shake her head and explain there was zero chance of that happening.

  He turned, ready to back up her absolutely reasonable indignation.

  She smiled brightly. “Sure. Sounds like a blast. Oh, my god, is that the new baby? Can I hold him?”

  She squealed a little as Big Tag started to lift the kid out of his pouch, and when she bounced up and down, her breasts did the same.

  And just like that he was totally uncomfortable.

  And completely trapped.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Tiffany tried to concentrate on the baby in her arms. It shouldn’t be hard. She adored babies and this one was a cutie. Seth Taggart was doing that baby grin that was probably more about gas than smiling. It was the kind of thing that made her heart clench and forced her to relax and forget about everything but the sweet kid she was holding.

  But Sebastian was in the room. Big, gorgeous, stick-up-his-muscular-backside Sebastian.

  Sebastian, whom she painted every night. Sebastian, whom she should run away from. Sebastian, whom she schemed over and plotted to get close to.

  “Do you understand what he’s asking?” Sebastian stood up with less grace than usual.

  She’d noticed that Sebastian did everything with precision and grace. From pouring wine to opening doors for ladies to simply walking across the dining room floor, there was nothing he didn’t do without his trademark care.

  She had to wonder if he would make love with the same careful attention to details.

  It kept her up at night, made her sweat thinking about it.

  She bounced as she held the baby in her arms. She was pretty sure the biggest of the Taggarts had fallen asleep in the two point five seconds it had taken him to pass the ba
by off to her. Not that it was surprising. She could guess that a man who had three children under the age of four was likely sleep deprived. “I think he asked if I would bottom for you.”

  She had to play this one carefully. If she sounded too eager, he might run away on his bionic legs, and that wasn’t what she wanted at all.

  Sebastian stared at her for a moment and she gave him what she hoped was her most harmless of smiles. Of course, anyone who took the time to know her would have feared that smile, but luckily Sebastian tended to dismiss her. Like he did everyone. She didn’t take it seriously.

  He reminded her of the old story about Androcles and the lion. In this case she was an artsy version of the Roman runaway slave who found a lion in his cave. Sebastian was the growling, wine-loving lion who had a massive thorn in his paw. She simply had to get close enough to remove said thorn and claim her super-hot lion.

  He was making it difficult.

  He waved a hand as though dismissing her and turned back to Chef. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Big Tag yawned and settled a pair of aviators over his eyes. “They never do. Look, wine dude, I’m going to make this easy for you. First you’re going to play the we-work-together card.”

  Sebastian nodded, pointing at Big Tag as though everyone should listen to him.

  Tiffany watched. It was a trap. It always was with Big Tag.

  “Everyone works together.” Only Big Tag’s mouth moved. The rest of his body was perfectly still. “You’re in an industry where you don’t take days off, so unless you’re planning on being celibate or buying a fun blowup friend from the Internet, you should probably lower your standards and fuck where you eat.” He chuckled. “That’s funny because he really does eat here. Two, you’re going to say things like ‘but I couldn’t possibly attempt to deceive this poor billionaire. I’m too upstanding to ever do that.’ Screw upstanding. Have you heard what that fucker charges for an ad? Deceive him. Do it hard and charge him for it at the end.”

  Sebastian sighed. “I do understand what you’re saying, but…”

  “Here comes excuse number three,” Big Tag proclaimed. “But we don’t have time to work together. We’ll never look like a real live couple. Problem solved since the two of you are going to be living together.”

  She understood why his wife yelled his name so often. She wasn’t Charlotte Taggart, so Tiffany very calmly made her plea as Seth kicked his little legs free of his blanket. “Don’t give him a heart attack, please, Sir.” She frowned at Chef. “I thought you were going to tell him what happened.”

  “I didn’t get the chance because I was too busy trying to fire him,” Chef explained.

  It was a good thing she was such a competent babysitter because she didn’t miss a beat even as righteous anger flowed through her system. She put the baby in a nice but stable football hold and stared down her boss. She’d heard the rumors that he’d been meeting with that big old wine kiss-ass som. “You can’t fire Sebastian.”

  Sebastian put up a hand. “Hold on.”

  “Oh, no, I would love to hear why I can’t fire you,” Chef said, a gleam in his eyes.

  Something about that gleam almost made her wary, but she was too angry. When Eric had mentioned that Chef Taggart had met with another som, she’d shrugged it off because no one was better than Sebastian. “Sebastian gives everything to this restaurant. Everything. Did you know he’s often here before the line chefs even show up and that sometimes he goes to market with Eric to help him pick produce for the evening? Apparently his sense of smell is incredible. He’s like the bloodhound of grapes or something.”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Sebastian began.

  Because he was also incredibly humble. “He trains all of us on wine and pairings and even tests us from time to time. I personally think he should offer up some kind of reward program for getting it right because dear god, all that stuff is boring as hell, but he is on top of it. All the women love him. Have you ever watched him sell wine to the book club women?”

  “That’s Charlie’s group,” Big Tag said. “Book club is a secret code name for ‘drink a shit ton of wine,’ so that’s a little like shooting fish in a barrel. Try again.”

  “Well, he’s still excellent at it. Chef would be a fool to fire him. That other guy looks like a moron and he hit on me the last time he was here. Ally, too. So he’s going to be a terrible addition,” she continued. “Also, he was a crappy tipper.”

  “He hit on you?” Sebastian asked, his voice dropping to a chilly tone.

  “Only if you consider him asking me for a tour and then offering to spend some time in Javier’s broom closet with him to be hitting on me,” she shot back. The broom closet was famous as a place where couples would sometimes sneak away for some making out. Or in Javier’s case, some near paternity suits had happened in there.

  “Yes,” Sebastian replied. “I do consider that hitting on you, and not in a proper fashion.”

  God, when his voice went all Southern, magnolia-dripping, deep as night and twice as dark it really did something for her. Like go all gooey soft and submissive kind of something.

  “I didn’t fire Sebastian.” Chef was looking between them like an observer at a tennis match. “My meeting with Jenkins was about something else entirely, so everyone can stop berating me for something I never intended to do. Also, Sebastian, stop frothing at your very proper Southern mouth at the thought of someone hitting on Tiff. Seth is doing it right now.”

  Sure enough, the baby was currently trying to get his little mouth in the vicinity of her boob.

  “Nah, he’s just hungry all the time.” Big Tag yawned. “He tries to suckle everything. The kid’s an optimist. Thinks there’s milk everywhere. Charlie sent him with a bottle. I’ll get it.”

  The man looked beyond tired and she could plainly see the bag his wife had sent along. “It’s fine. I’ll feed him. Why don’t you take a nap or something?”

  He flipped up his sunglasses and for once there was zero sarcasm in his tone. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course. You know I love babies.” She also liked helping out. She especially enjoyed helping out people from work or the club. They were always appreciative and they tended to be quick to help others. It was one of the things she adored about the club. When she’d moved from one crappy apartment complex to another because she’d found way better light at the second, the Doms of Sanctum had been there to make everything simple.

  They were a family and helping was what families did. Big Tag didn’t have to allow her into his club. She hadn’t paid a membership and neither had her friends, but he let them in and only required that someone work the childcare center every night. She had an in to a club she loved and all it cost her was a few hours of doing something she’d do for free.

  Big Tag stood up and reached for the bag, handing it to her. “Thank you. You have no idea how much even twenty minutes will help. I appreciate your kindness very much, Tiffany. Sean?”

  “There’s a cot in the back room. Eric used it when he would watch the barbecue overnight. Feel free, brother.” Chef turned his gaze back to Sebastian. “What I was going to explain to you was that I need you to share the apartment with Tiffany. There are two bedrooms so you’ll each have some private space. She’s training the waitstaff for Eric’s restaurant so she’ll be working the same hours as you. I was going to put her up at Eric and Deena’s, but their guest bathroom sprung a leak and it’s going to be weeks before it’s back to being usable. Apparently it flooded the guest bedroom as well. Sharing the apartment with Tiffany would allow the two of you to get on the same page so you could look like a D/s couple for the purposes of training Milo Jaye, and it would spare me the expense of not only having to rent something for her, but also of getting her a bodyguard.”

  She felt her cheeks heat even as she pulled the bottle from the cooled bag it had nested in. What had her father done? They’d had a very restrained and loving argument about this and she’d thought she’d won. It looked like her dad was good at going around her. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”

  “Why does she need a bodyguard?” Sebastian wasn’t looking at her at all.