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“I will, sir.”

When her assigned caretaker approached, she gave him a little finger wiggle. “Hello again, Lucas.”

“Nice to see you again, Miss Gayle.” Lucas grinned at her. “Master Merrick asked me to look after you for the next hour or so. He knows I’m your favorite.”

Merrick stood, stretching out the kinks starting to form in his back. He really should learn not to go from sixty to zero—at his age, things seized up a hell of a lot faster.

For some reason, Gayle was much more receptive to accepting assistance from someone other than him after a scene and, yes, Lucas was indeed her favorite. They’d reached this particular compromise after their first scene together, when Merrick point blank refused to leave her on her own for safety reasons. She might not accept aftercare from him, but he suspected Lucas offered a different brand of it behind closed doors.

As Lucas helped her to her feet, Merrick backed away completely, leaving them to it.

That odd sensation plagued him again as he started tidying up the area, gathering each implement to set aside for cleaning. He wouldn’t be using this station again tonight, so the highly efficient cleaning crew would be here in a few minutes, sterilizing everything ready for the next players.

Frowning, he glanced up at the viewing gallery as an itch formed between his shoulder blades. It transformed from an itch to a deep, dark feeling of dread as his gaze landed on the huddle of spectators above him, recognizing faces that should be nowhere fucking near here right now.

Even in the shadows, he read Tamsyn’s shock as plainly as a neon sign.

He didn’t think twice; striding from the station, he headed for the stairs, blind to the other scenes continuing around him. While he’d been immersed in Gayle’s scene, the dungeon had grown busy, the various spaces occupied with members chasing the same high she’d found.

His boots clomped on each step as he jogged up to the gallery, and he tried to think of a way to explain this to Tamsyn without triggering her bolting instincts.

The hard scowl he directed in his friends’ direction probably wasn’t helping, but he was seriously pissed at all of them for bringing her here when he was working. Hell, the fact he was working wasn’t the issue—the intensity of the scene, the level of pain he’d doled out, was a bigger cause for concern.

Oddly enough, it was Callie and Tabitha who seemed scared of him, although Tabitha hid it better than Callie. Sierra was too busy sucking face with Mack to pay any attention to his approach, and Tamsyn…

She watched him warily, those big eyes tracking his every move.

She’d never seen him in his element, likely never fully comprehended the scope of his physical strength. Of course, she knew he was a big man, a strong one, but being held and comforted by that strength was incredibly different to witnessing that same power being wielded in an alternative capacity.

Merrick stopped a few feet away, wanting to give her the chance to react how she needed. Her history was full of violence, of pain and potential death, and that couldn’t be erased, even with time.

“Darlin’,” he said softly, “I’m still me.”

Evander had her back, he noted, ranging himself behind her for support if she asked for it. Serenity’s owner completely dwarfed her, even more than Merrick did.

She licked her lips, her eyes on his face. “Your job is hurting people? Women?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was why he hadn’t wanted her here yet. There were so many levels to what his job entailed—levels that required calm, quiet explanation—and she’d been thrust face-first into the highest one without any goddamn context.

Merrick skewered his friends with a single inclusive glare before softening his expression. “Gayle comes to Serenity for what I just gave her, little owl. She has a stressful job and doesn’t have time to nurture certain urges. She trusts me to give her what she needs, without sex or strings. Pain means different things to different people, and for her, it relieves stress and anxiety. Her tolerance is high, which is why she asks specifically for that kind of scene.”

“She was tied up.” Her voice was strained.

“Yes. She wears her own cuffs, and we use quick release hooks in case of an emergency.”

Tiny wheels spun in her head, visibly processing her thoughts and feelings on the matter. She flinched at the sound of a whip cracking from below and the resulting scream, leaning forward as though she wanted to come to him.

“Tamsyn, I’m still the same man who kissed you a couple hours ago in the bar. I’m still the same man who adores you.” Pride and heart on the line, Merrick held his hand out. “What I do in the duties of my job range from simple spankings to what you’ve just seen. Just because Gayle requires that kind of intensity doesn’t mean I’d ever ask you to try it.”

Christ, if she ever figured out what affect her eyes had on him, she’d understand just how under her thumb he was.

“You whipped her…” Tamsyn glanced down at her own crotch uneasily.

Merrick didn’t miss the squeeze of her thighs. Was that arousal he sensed? “Flogged, little owl. I flogged her pussy because she was on the edge of orgasm and needed a push.”

“With a chain… thing.”

“Flogger,” he supplied, shooting Elias a glare when he grinned. “And before you start worrying about me using that on you, the answer is no. A chain link flogger is reserved for subs with a high degree of masochism.”