The Effing List - Cherise Sinclair Page 0,49

camera is out and what needs to be replaced.”

“Sounds good. I haven’t had a chance to walk the grounds—perhaps you could point out the cameras as we go.” Ghost sighed. His leg was swelling inside the prosthetic sleeve and starting to ache. Damn stairs.

After flowing around the inside of a screened enclosure, an artificial stream splashed into the swimming pool with the melodic sound of falling water. Filled with flowering shrubs and tropical plants, the setting was like a slice of paradise.

He held the door for Olivia, stepped inside after her, then stared down into the pool. Clothes and shoes lay at the bottom.

“It appears someone went skinny dipping and forgot to dress on the way out,” Olivia scowled as she picked up pieces from a broken security camera. “Probably one of Wrecker’s good buddies who didn’t realize the security system would call the police.”

“Seems likely.” Unfortunately, the automatic pool cleaner was tangled in the mess. Ghost flipped off the switch to the robot. “Something else to do.”

With a snort, Olivia motioned. “Get in and hand the stuff up to me.”

“Thanks, no. I’ll deal with it later.”

She gave him a cold stare. “I’ve seen naked men before.”

“I rather assumed that. I’m simply not—”

“Listen.” She braced her legs and folded her arms across her chest. “If you have a problem with lesbians or female Dominants, your new job is going to be difficult. There are quite a few of us in the club.”

For fuck’s sake. He reined in his irritation. Just because he was achy and tired didn’t give him license to be rude. “Why would you think I have a problem with lesbians?”

“I saw the way you looked at me when I was doing a scene. The way you shook your head in disgust.”

He couldn’t remember being disgusted with any of her scenes. “When exactly was this?”

“Last weekend—I was with Chelsey.”

Ah, the scene in the dungeon. Hell of a leap she’d taken, though. “Olivia. I don’t have a problem with lesbians or any of the LGBTQ+ community. Or dominant women. I shook my head because I’ve watched your scenes before, and the one with Chelsey lacked any energy whatsoever.”

She flushed slightly. “Maybe. I suppose.” Her gaze went to the pool, then she gave him another somewhat-less belligerent stare.

Fine. She apparently thought he was unwilling to bare his dick—to be vulnerable—to a lesbian or Domme.

“My flesh-and-blood junk can survive being exposed to a Mistress. However, my metal junk won’t survive an immersion in water.” He pulled up his pant leg far enough to expose the prosthesis.

The color rose and fell in her face. “Bloody hell.” Swearing under her breath, she averted her face for a moment, then turned back with a rueful expression. “I’m sorry. I was out of line. Last weekend, Wrecker’s buddies threw a lot of homophobic and other insults my way. I was overly sensitive—and jumped to the wrong conclusion with you. Then and now.”

Here was the Olivia he’d grown to like. Honest. Blunt. Insightful and not sparing of herself.

The tightness in his jaw relaxed. Death had stolen friends from him often enough. It’d be a shame to lose one over a misunderstanding. “Considering the crap I heard being dished out, I’m not surprised you over-reacted.”

After a second, he added mildly, “Or was some of your sensitivity because it’s tough to scene after losing a regular partner?”

He remembered that raw feeling all too well.

Her scowl would’ve been intimidating…if he’d been submissive. “Maybe. Some.”

He opened his mouth, and she cut him off. “No, I don’t want to talk about it. Why people assume a person wants to share her woes just because she’s female is bloody annoying. Or why it’s assumed because I have tits, I’m naturally nurturing and should offer a shoulder to anyone who wants a good cry. Or I’m awesome with children because I have ovaries.”

The rant was the last thing he’d expected from the normally controlled Domme.

He grinned. “Don’t hold back. Tell me how you really feel.”

For a moment, he thought she’d punch him—right into the pool—but after a second, she snorted. “It seems I let the pot simmer long enough to reach a boil. Sorry.”

“Not a problem.” Ghost motioned toward the house. “This isn’t the time, but when you come back to replace the camera, I’d like your help in locating the rest of them. You can use the walk to educate me about assumptions.”

She narrowed her eyes, evaluating him with her quite considerable skills. “You mean that, don’t you.”

“I do. I was Special

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