Page 5 of Master Cordell

“Uh-huh. I’m about to head over there with Cooper to help search the entire hotel with Jared and Troy.”

“Won’t that take a long time?” Tiffany asked.

He shook his head. “Now that we know what we’re looking for, it won’t be too bad. We have a few devices that will detect any electronic bugs and the like. Hopefully, we’ll find some evidence that’ll point to whoever was stupid enough to plant them.”

Gesturing for them to proceed him, he followed the women out of the trailer with Cooper then secured the door. It occurred to Tiffany she’d left the cottage they’d been using as an office unlocked. Even though the computers needed passwords and the employees’ paperwork was locked up in file cabinets, she should have been more cautious. Well, that would change as of today. It was creepy to think someone had hidden a camera in one of the guest rooms. Knowing Sir, he’d have everyone taking extra precautions from now on.

Images of Cordell in her mind had Tiffany’s stomach churning again. Maybe the party at Dante and Master Reed’s would help her relationship with Sir get back on an even keel. They’d been good together before she’d driven a wedge between them, and she wanted to get back to that point again because she didn’t know if she would survive if he gave up on her.

Chapter5

“You look beautiful, Pet.” Drinking her in, Cordell took Tiffany’s hand as she exited their bedroom. She’d been nervous about meeting Master Reed and had asked Cordell’s help earlier in selecting what she should wear—something she hadn’t done in months. He’d almost declined, since picking out her clothes was something Whitlow had insisted on, but when he’d seen the pleading in her eyes, he’d relented.

Since neither of them had met Dante’s Dom yet, and there would be no playing at the barbecue tonight, Cordell had decided on an outfit that was both sexy and modest for her. The black, A-line skirt stopped just above Tiffany’s knees, making her legs look long and lean, and was paired with a sea-green, backless halter top with a draped front, and wedge sandals. Per his orders, she wasn’t wearing any underwear, but the top was equipped with a built-in bra. While no one else would be seeing her assets tonight, Cordell would have easy access to them any time he wanted.

“Thank you, Sir.” A blush stole across her face as she fingered one of the collars he’d given her when they’d first signed their contract. Of the two she currently had, it was her favorite since it was the first one he’d ever given her. It was a simple, white-and-black, leather braided choker and went well with her outfit. After she’d accepted her new position, he’d gifted her another collar, a silver and gold choker-style necklace to accompany her work attire yet not offset the fact she was management. All MKR employees would be wearing ID badges while on duty, which meant they didn’t have to follow club protocols during their shifts. Mitch, Ty, and Cordell figured if subs were constantly worrying about protocols, it would interfere with their jobs. As long as they showed the guests and club members the proper respect, like any public service employee should receive, then that was acceptable. The policy was included in the paperwork club members and guests had to sign stating they were aware of the fact that Doms couldn’t order on-duty submissive employees to remain silent, kneel, or be punished for an alleged protocol infraction.

Cordell stroked his knuckles over the material covering one of Tiffany’s breasts, pleased to see her nipple pebble for him and to hear her sudden sharp inhalation. His gaze met hers. She’d applied subtle makeup that enhanced her features, especially her chestnut-colored eyes, and her silky, dark-brown hair had been blown out into soft waves.

Taking a deep breath, Cordell caught a whiff of the coconut-scented shampoo and conditioner she used. He’d never be able to smell coconuts again without getting hard thinking about taking her from behind with his nose buried in her neck.

Crap.If he didn’t get them out of there soon, he was going to say fuck it and send his regrets to Reed and Dante before stripping his sub naked.

Cordell glanced at his watch and noted she was ready five minutes earlier than the deadline he’d given her. He’d actually been hoping she wouldn’t be on time. For weeks now, she’d been the perfect submissive—a little too perfect for his liking. He missed punishing her and reddening her luscious ass for small infractions on the regular, before rewarding her for taking it so well. But those times had been few and far between. Bigger transgressions, which he considered to be those that had the potential for physical or mental harm, had been nonexistent. It was like his sweet submissive had turned into a Stepford wife when she wasn’t working, and it was driving him nuts. At least she’d stopped calling him Master after a brief relapse. Knowing the title would always remind her of that prick who’d been her so-called Dom for two years, Cordell would be happy if she never called him Master ever again. He was perfectly fine with being her Sir.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, Sir. Does Eastwood need to be fed before we leave?”

The cat came running at the sound of his name and the hint of food. Cordell rolled his eyes as Eastwood stared up at them. “Already taken care of and don’t let him tell you otherwise.”

When she giggled, Cordell’s heart clenched. It’d been so long since she’d done that for him. With others, he’d heard her laugh and tease them, but lately, she’d been stiff with him and seemingly mindful of everything she said to him. He just didn’t know how to get her to relax around him again when she wasn’t in subspace. At least he could still get her in that mindset.

She picked up a small purse from the countertop that separated the kitchenette from the cozy living room, and Cordell followed her out the door, locking it behind them while ignoring Eastwood’s affronted meows.

It was amazing how quiet it was on their island after all the workers had gone home for the day. Aside from his and Tiffany’s footsteps on the gravel driveway, the only sounds he could hear were the waves lapping at the shoreline behind their cottage, some seagulls, and a breeze rustling through the nearby trees. He took a moment to enjoy it now, since once the resort opened, he doubted it would be that quiet again unless it was in the wee hours of the morning.

When they reached his truck, Cordell opened the passenger door for Tiffany and helped her in. He then rounded the front bumper, climbed into the driver’s seat, and started the engine. It only took a moment to type their destination into the GPS and then they were on their way.

During the thirty-minute drive to Dante and Reed’s, they discussed a few things, such as what still needed to be addressed before the resort opened. Cordell then gave Tiffany an update on the spy cameras—three others had been found in different suites—and the security measures they would be adding in the morning. To his disappointment, when Cordell had utilized the old evidence kit he still had from his time on the force, there hadn’t been any viable prints on any of the devices.

Even though they didn’t veer the conversation into the personal zone during the ride, time still flew by. Cordell had known Tiffany was smarter than some people gave her credit for—they saw a pretty petite woman with doe-eyes and thought she didn’t have a single intelligent brain cell in her head. However, she was flourishing in her new position as assistant manager. It made him wonder why she’d never advanced to the rank of supervisor at the Golden Nugget in Vegas. She’d worked there for several years as a cage cashier, paying out winnings to guests of the casino, but Cordell thought she could’ve moved up into a higher position. Regardless, though, the Golden Nugget’s loss was Master Key’s gain—and Cordell’s.

When he pulled up to a gate at the driveway to Dante and Reed’s house, Tiffany let out a gasp. “Oh my God, is this it?”

He understood the awe in her voice. The house on the other side of the security fence was huge, probably well over 5,000 square feet, sitting on approximately a full acre. The landscaping was gorgeous and well-maintained. According to the GPS, the property backed up to a canal that led out to the Atlantic Ocean. Cordell would bet anything there was a yacht or a sailboat moored to a dock. As financially comfortable as Reed apparently was, Cordell hadn’t expected a place this big because Dante was so low-key. The man conjured up images of living in a trailer on a beach in California, with surfboards lined up outside of it. Never, in any of the conversations with the head of the resort’s security team, had Cordell gotten the impression Dante liked to throw his Master’s money or status around.

“It is,” he replied as he lowered the driver’s window and pushed a button on the intercom panel Dante had told him about. Without anyone’s voice coming over the speaker, the gate slid open. A quick glance revealed cameras perched at the top of the tall fence, which would eliminate the need to ask who was there if they were recognized.

Seeing several cars lined up in a parking area to the right of the circular driveway, Cordell pulled into a spot next to Jared’s blue Dodge Ram pickup. From the looks of things, the couple was the last to arrive. Sloan had offered to pick up Sasha, since they apparently lived near each other, and Troy and Jared were sharing a rented home not far from the resort. The two retired Marines had known each other since basic training and had served in the same units for most of their military careers.

Cordell got out of the truck and skirted around the front to the other side to open Tiffany’s door. He took her hand and helped her down, but before she could move away from him, he pinned her against the side of the vehicle. With wide eyes, she stared at him. “Is something wrong, Sir?”

Instead of giving her a verbal response, he cupped her jaw, leaned down, and brushed his lips across hers, pleased when her eyes fluttered shut and she moaned and swayed toward him. Despite the fact she wasn’t in love with him, her body still wanted him—wanted what he could do to it—and he was a selfish bastard because he would take whatever she gave him even if it would never be enough.

When her lips parted, he swept his tongue into her mouth for a brief taste before releasing her. As much as he wanted to devour her, he didn’t want to walk into the house with a hard-on. He forced his brain to recall baseball stats as he shifted his hips. It didn’t help matters when Tiffany’s eyelids lifted and showed off her blown pupils.

He cleared his throat, shaking her out of her lust-filled haze. “No more than two alcoholic drinks tonight, Pet. We’ll be playing when we get home later.”

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