Page 2 of Caging Cessie (Submissives of Rawhide Ranch #20)

Two Years Before the Cage

The sun had just crested over the Malibu hills, making the adobe tile roof of Las Palmas appear carmine red while the white walls were painted pale gold with light as Leon and Cessie stepped out into the still-cool morning.

Cessie, her long hair now loose and tousled from the night's scene, was tucked against Leon’s side.

She was almost leaning on him as they walked, a soft, serene smile on her face.

He loved her like this—relaxed, happy, content.

He wished he could help her find this place every day, but his Cessie was wound too tight—and pulled in too many directions—to easily find this headspace.

So far, the only surefire way of helping her let go and relax was a hard BDSM scene.

Leon’s hand rested possessively at the small of her back, guiding her toward the car. When she tipped her head, cheek on his shoulder, he kissed her hair.

“Tonight was perfect,” Cessie murmured.

Leon knew his smile was shifting from soft to smug as he opened the passenger door.

“You did well, baby. Letting go like that—trusting me.” His thumb brushed along the side of her jaw as she climbed into the car, and she paused, leaning into his touch for a moment before letting her butt hit the seat.

He stowed their bags in the trunk before sliding into the driver’s seat.

“How can I feel both heavy and light?” she mused.

“You’re melting into the seat,” he teased as he turned the car on.

She’d put on her seatbelt and reclined just enough that she could lie back and close her eyes.

“I’m one with the car.” Her dramatic intonation made him chuckle.

When he turned to look over his shoulder as he reversed, he skimmed his hand over her chest, collarbone and bare neck before bracing his hand on the back of her seat.

Cessie gasped in reaction to his touch, and he seriously considered just pulling back into the parking spot. But it was Monday morning, and they both had to work. They also had at least an hour drive from the club in the Malibu hills back to L.A. Time enough to fool around a little.

He stopped in the middle of the parking lot, throwing the car into park.

Her eyes had drifted closed, her hands spread over her abdomen, thumbs touching the underside of her breasts that were bare under the thin t-shirt she was wearing. A shirt thin enough he could see her nipples were hard.

“Pull up your shirt.”

Her eyes opened, and now there was heat as well as peace in her gaze.

Slowly, she gathered the bottom of her shirt into her hands until she held it bunched just under her breasts. Then she drew it up, holding it there.

Something about the pose felt forbidden and almost innocent, like they were teenagers fooling around and this was his first time seeing her tits.

“Is this playing outside the club?”

She wasn’t just asking if this was a little D/s play outside the confines of the club.

She was asking if they were changing the rules.

Right now, there was a strict separation between their D/s partnership and their dating life.

They were actually more secure in their Dom-sub relationship than they were as romantic partners.

If there were ever a time to change that, to merge the two worlds, it was now. After this weekend, it felt like they were connected in a way that transcended both their D/s and romantic relationship.

Maybe this is what people meant when they said soulmates.

As soon as he thought the word, something clicked inside him. Yes, it was time to stop strict compartmentalization and merge what they had. He wasn’t talking about a twenty-four seven D/s relationship or total power exchange. Cessie would laugh and then lobotomize him if he suggested it.

But it was time to talk about how good it would be for both of them if he could put her first over his knee and then on her knees in his bedroom.

Leon opened his mouth to tell her how fucking much he loved her. How he wanted to move in together. Be her Dom at home and not just in the club.

The sound of an alarm cut him off before he could get out the first word.

That alarm wasn’t a clock alarm. It was the ringtone for calls and texts from Cessie’s mother.

Fuck.

Cessie jerked her shirt down and sat up, reaching for her phone which was stored in the armrest. They always left their phones in the car when they went to Las Palmas. That was one of the best parts about the club.

Leon’s jaw tightened as he put the car in drive.

There was a chance, a small chance, this wasn’t some disaster, or non-catastrophe that would be treated like a crisis, that would get dumped on Cessie’s lap.

Her shoulders tensed as she looked at her phone, even as she hunched forward. It had taken two days of D/s play to get her shoulders to relax, and one text from her mother fucked it all up. He took a breath, trying to ignore the growing knot of frustration in his stomach.

“Everything okay?” he asked, keeping his voice gentle.

Cessie hesitated before answering, glancing at him. “My mom says there’s a family emergency.”

Leon’s jaw tightened. Family emergency. He’d bet every cent he had in his investment accounts that it wasn’t actually a family emergency. It never was.

He had a horrible sense of deja vu and impending doom. She was being yanked away from him too quickly, too abruptly. She was still so open, so vulnerable from the scene, and now she was pulled back into the seemingly constant state of crisis her family kept her in.

He fought the urge to let his frustration show. He wanted to keep her here—safe, content, wrapped in the warmth of their shared experience. He gritted his teeth and gripped the steering wheel hard, trying to channel his frustration into that grip.

“Don’t, just don’t.” Her voice was tight, her gaze on his rigid arm. “Please.”

He forced himself to relax and focus on driving. The winding roads of the Malibu hills needed his full concentration, but when he stopped at a light he looked over at her. At the worry in her eyes, the slight trembling of her fingers as she held the phone.

“I’m sorry.” Leon kept his voice steady, though his hands still gripped the wheel tighter than necessary. “I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I just worry about you. You’re under so much stress.”

“I know. I know. But it’s easier if I just take care of it. It’s worse if I don’t, because then something simple becomes something major.”

He didn’t think that was a healthy way of thinking, nor was her relationship with her family healthy, but what the hell did he know?

People called him cold, calculating. It had once been explained to him that he had a high EQ.

IQ was Intelligence Quotient, but EQ was Emotional Quotient.

For some people high EQ meant they were very self-aware and able to manage their emotions.

But for others, for him, it meant he had a high-risk tolerance and didn’t panic or get distressed when risks didn’t pay off.

Leon exhaled slowly, trying to calm his simmering frustration. “I wish we had more time. You were so peaceful.” He touched her cheek. “I hate seeing you pulled out of it so quickly.”

Twenty minutes ago, she would have leaned into his touch, but now she only nodded.

Her phone went off again. Not the blaring alarm sound, but a loud trill.

Of course.

Of fucking course.

Cessie closed her eyes for a moment, wincing. “It’s my attending.”

“I know.”

He wished he’d kept his mouth shut when she tensed even more, shoulders up around her ears.

They drove in silence except for the occasional incoming text noise from her phone and the tap tap tap of her fingers on the screen.

According to the alert sounds, the messages were alternating between her job and her family, though she was getting two messages from her mother for every one she got from her attending.

The next time they stopped—this time at one of the stoplights on PCH, Cessie reached over, her fingers brushing his arm lightly, her touch almost apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

“As long as you come back to me.” He’d spoken without thinking, revealing too much. She was sitting next to him but it felt like she was flying away.

Cessie didn’t question his statement. “I’ll come back to you, Leon. I always do.”

The words were meant to reassure him, but they only made him feel the weight of what they’d lost. The part of her he’d connected with this weekend—the part of her that was totally free and beautifully his—would be locked away and buried the next time they tried to scene. It always was.

“I know.” He glanced over at her.

Their gazes met for a moment, but her phone rang, and she turned away, lifting it to her ear.