Replay Book 9_Gladiator Page 5

  Marco chuckled. “Blame Lukas for that one. After the party, he was a man obsessed. In all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him like this.”

  “How did you two meet?”

  “Lukas had been winning awards in Europe and came to the States for an international fitness competition. I was there with two of my models. I was impressed by what I saw. Not just how he looks, but his personality. You wouldn’t know it, but Lukas has a shy side. Quiet. Humble. He’s a hard worker. He’s grateful for what he has and never takes anything for granted. Not to mention, he’s smart as a whip. In school, he was considered a geek. He took up weightlifting and bodybuilding because he was being bullied.”

  “Oh, no! How awful!” Leda’s heart ached for the boy that he had been.

  “It was bad enough,” Marco said, “but if success is the best revenge, he’s more than achieved it.”

  “When did you meet Sir Djiman?”

  “About a year later. Lukas had heard good things about Djiman as a trainer and wanted to check him out. Trouble was, he was working on a cruise line in the middle of the Caribbean. When they finally did meet, Lukas was impressed enough to make him a business deal. He’d build the gym if Djiman would run it and train him. It’s grown enough, they’ve hired a manager and enough staff to handle nearly everything. Djiman still teaches one class twice a week, on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

  “So he’ll be working tonight?” Leda couldn’t help sounding disappointed.

  “Not tonight. We made him take the day off. Another trainer is covering for him. With you here and Sir Cassius coming in, we needed him with us more.”

  “What about Sir Antony?”

  “That,” he drawled, “is an interesting story….”

  Chapter Seven

  Marco drew Leda closer and cuddled her while he talked. “Once upon a time,” he began, “there was a fundraiser at the local veterans’ center. Gunnar Falk had offered to model for a book cover to auction off. He needed someone to shoot it. He’d seen my work and asked if I would do it. You know Gunnar. I didn’t. I wanted to meet him to check him out, then to discuss it, if I liked what I saw. Obviously, I did.”

  She smiled to herself. Sir Gunnar had the looks and the body that were made for book covers. Lucky Breanna!

  “He offered to pay me. I had him donate my fee to the center instead. Before that, I’d mostly done magazine shoots. To do a cover required research. Lukas was able to help me there. We came up with a concept, and I did the shoot at Gunnar’s estate. We hit it off. He recognized that I was a Dominant, told me about Replay, and encouraged me to come and check it out. One visit and I was ready to join…except the membership fee put it out of my reach. That’s when he suggested having me trained to join his Viking hoard. Being part of the staff would let me do scenes without mortgaging the house.”

  She knew the feeling. There was no way that she could afford to be at Replay if she had to pay to play. Working there gave her that option. Not that she ever got to do any scenes. If she was lucky, she could sneak away and watch a little before rushing back to wardrobe. The New Year’s party was the first time she’d had a real chance to participate.

  “To raid with the Viking hoard required extensive training in the edged weapons that they carry. Antonio was my instructor. He’s one of the world’s leading experts on sword techniques. He consults on films. Does workshops. Hell, he has his own YouTube channel. When Sir Piers wanted to add the Roman villa and gladiator arena, Antonio jumped at the chance and brought me on board. He needed two more men. I arranged a meeting with Lukas and Djiman. After talking to them, Antonio agreed to give them a try. We trained together while the villa was being built and moved in as soon as it was ready for us. We’ve been here for about a month now, preparing for our first event.”

  Marco sighed softly. “Three of us are naturalized citizens, but Djiman has a green card. He won’t be a five-year resident for ten more months. He’s already studying, preparing for the test. We just need to keep our noses clean and hope that he passes with flying colors. He’ll be a hard man to replace if we lose him.”

  The possibility worried Marco. She could feel his tension.

  “You won’t,” she said firmly, wishing like crazy that she was right. “A year from now, you’ll be training groups to perform like you do.”

  He kissed the top of her head and smoothed her hair. “What about you?” he asked. “How did you come to be here?”

  “In Greece, my mother was a costume designer for films. There, she was considered one of the best. Her work got noticed. Being nominated for an Oscar opened new doors for her. For us. I was twelve when we moved to New York so that she could work in theatre. She taught me nearly everything I know, but she insisted that I go to college. She wanted me to get that piece of paper, you know? And I went, just to please her.”

  An overwhelming tide of grief crashed against the shoreline of her heart, inundating her. “I’m sorry,” she choked out, dashing the tears that blurred her vision. “One morning, the police came to my dorm room. My mother’s body had been found in a trash bin. She was murdered on her way home from work. Not just murdered. She was mutilated. They think it was because she fought back. There was human tissue under her fingernails. It’s a cold case now. They still have no idea who killed her.”

  “Fuck,” Marco murmured beneath his breath. “Is that why you didn’t fight me?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, pushing the words past the grief that gripped her throat as tightly as a fist. “I froze. Even if Jewell hadn’t told me to not struggle, the memories of my mother would have been enough.”

  “I’m sorry, Leda. God.” Marco sighed heavily. “You know, Lukas wanted to take you, but he didn’t know if you’d fight it. He bruises easily and has a photo shoot booked in two weeks. But your mother—I had no idea.”

  Pulling the blanket off one of her arms, she picked up his hand, kissed it, and laced their fingers together. “I understand, Sir. No one here except Sir Josef knows as much as I’ve told you. After my mother died…you can imagine, I was a mess. I had to leave college to deal with the funeral, the apartment, her things. I sold what I could, kept a little, and donated the rest. I couldn’t see myself going back to college. Instead, I worked two jobs and shared a flat with three other people because that’s all I could afford. I’m not attached to much at my apartment, but I need to get my mother’s sewing machines, my laptop and printer, and my clothes. Oh, and my fabrics, threads, and tools. I make draperies on the side. Word of mouth only.”

  “If you gave it up, would you miss it?” he asked quietly.

  “No.” She didn’t have to think twice before answering. “If it takes time away from the five of us, I’ll gladly let it go. Making draperies filled time and let me put more in the bank. It served a purpose, but my situation has changed. I’ll have other things to occupy my evenings here. Maybe I should learn massage. Even if I can’t watch your sessions, I could at least give you rubdowns when you’re done.”

  “Now that,” he rumbled, “sounds like a plan. We could get the staff masseuses here so that you can observe. Watch and learn. If you think you’re ready to go back to college, I’m sure there are classes that you can take. It just depends on what you want to do. What you can see yourself doing, Sir Antony would say. If you can’t see it, it won’t happen. If you can envision it, you’ve given it the chance to manifest. Jesus. The man’s rubbed off on me.”

  She would have loved to explore that further, but a rap sounded on the door. “Supper is done.” Sir Djiman’s voice came from the hallway. “I brought Leda’s clothes.”

  They’d been left behind when Marco carried her from the kitchen. The way that she was feeling right now, she might have eschewed them if they hadn’t had company, but Sir Cassius was still here.

  Leda sat up. Missing the warmth of Marco’s body, she wrapped the blanket around her when she slid off the bed and padded to the door. Opening it, she met Sir Djiman’s appreciative gaze.

&
nbsp; He looked at the swell of her breasts above the blanket, then at the clothes in his hand. Flicking his gaze back to meet hers, he grinned and pulled back his arm, the tease.

  She tugged up her blanket and tutted. “You must not want me at dinner very badly, Sir Djiman. If I can’t wear clothes while we’re eating, I guess I’ll have Replay deliver. You four are one thing, but—I’m sorry—Sir Cassius is a stranger. He doesn’t know my hard and soft limits.” An awful realization dawned. “Neither do any of you. I just realized that we don’t have a contract yet. Oh, dear!”

  The yet had him beaming. “Here are your clothes, princess. Tomorrow is soon enough to speak of contract terms. For tonight, it’s food and wine and a Roman bath for all of us. Wear these for dinner, but I think that you will want to shed them when it comes time to get in the water.”

  If she went into the water.

  Pool time with her four gladiators was one thing, but there was a fifth gladiator in the house. She didn’t want to shame them, but she had no idea what they expected from her where guests were concerned. Some Doms shared their subs. Some Doms didn’t. Replay owner Sir Piers was a perfect example. He was proud, possessive, and protective of his wife Elly. She couldn’t imagine him letting another Dom touch her.

  And Leda couldn’t imagine submitting to another Dom. Handling the four of them last night had been challenging enough.

  She took the clothes and returned to the bed. Glancing at Marco, she shed his blanket, laid it on the duvet, and put on the borrowed T-shirt and pants. They had kept her barefoot today. Fortunately, the tile floors were heated by strips installed for seasonal use.

  The Roman banquet hall was engineered the same way. She appreciated that Sir Piers did what he could to keep the submissives healthy and the Dominants happy.

  Marco and Djiman escorted her to the dining room. When extended, the table would seat twelve. With the extra leaves out, it was circled by eight chairs.

  Three of them were filled with very large men.

  Lukas wore street clothes. Sir Antony and Sir Cassius had donned togas and sandals after their showers. Feeling self-conscious in her borrowed clothes, she accepted the chair that Marco pulled out for her at the end of the table, opposite Antonio.

  A huge serving bowl of paella sat steaming on a trivet. Her salad had been divided into individual bowls. A small decanter of her orange vinaigrette dressing had been placed near her seat, with a basket of crusty bread and a crock of softened butter. A platter held an assortment of fresh vegetables, cheeses, olives, and nuts.

  “It looks wonderful,” she told Sir Lukas, “and it smells delicious.”

  The paella proved too hot to easily pass. Sir Antony ladled it onto the dinner plates, passing them until everyone had been served. Leda added dressing to her salad and handed it down for the others to try. As Lukas predicted, there were no complaints but lots of compliments on the meal.

  When they were done, she helped Djiman clear the table. They scraped and rinsed the plates, then loaded the dishwasher. Lukas joined them before they were through. The leftover paella needed to cool. The salad was gone. The extra dressing went in the refrigerator, as did the fresh vegetables and cheese that remained. Once the kitchen and dining room were cleaned, the three of them left the villa’s private quarters and made their way to the Roman baths.

  Built large enough to accommodate a crowd, the space seemed eerily empty. Flames flickered from the large, Roman oil lamps. The lucernae cast shadows on walls that echoed with the sounds of their footsteps.

  The first thing she noticed that there was no chlorine smell. “Sir Piers elected for mineral sanitation,” Djiman explained. “It’s more expensive but it eliminates the odor from chemicals and provides something closer to a true Roman bath experience. We test the PH and report it, but the pool maintenance is done by staff members who know what they’re doing.”

  Sir Antony and Sir Cassius were already sliding off the edge and into the water. A quick glance confirmed that they were nude. Marco shed his clothes, preparing to join them. Lukas and Djiman finished stripping as they approached.

  Leda was the only one still dressed.

  She drew a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, hoping to calm her nerves. She shouldn’t be so skittish. Lukas knew her safewords. Nothing was going to happen against her will.

  Her problem was, the desire to please her Dominants conflicted with her desire to belong only to them. She’d been told that a good submissive would do what pleased her Master. Her happiness hinged upon his. Following that logic, if a Dominant wanted to share her, a good submissive would welcome the experience.

  Did that make her a bad submissive? Leda wondered. Would it be wrong to say no? She had nothing against Sir Cassius, but he wasn’t her Sir. He didn’t know her. She didn’t know him. Just the thought of him touching her sent chills down her spine.

  “Hey.” Marco crossed to where she stood, frozen in place, and chucked a finger under her chin. “Are you all right?”

  She braved a smile. “Just nervous. Sir Cassius…”

  His photographer’s eye missed nothing. “Sir Cassius will give you all the space that you need. He’s certain to admire you, bella, but he’s not going to touch you unless that’s what you want, too. This pool is big enough, you won’t have any problem staying out of his reach.”

  That much was true. The Roman bath was more the size of a swimming pool, built to accommodate a crowd. Everyone else had shucked their clothes and was already enjoying or getting in the water. It was just her now.

  Her and her fear and her inhibitions.

  Taking a deep breath, she reached for the hem of her shirt.

  Chapter Eight

  Leda noticed two things during their time in the water. One: she had nothing to fear from Sir Cassius. The Dom was flirtatious but respectful, with a healthy libido and a wicked sense of humor. She’d never heard the men laugh so much. She loved that they were able to relax, unwind, and enjoy themselves.

  The second was that Sir Antony might share his bed with Djiman, but Lukas was the one he watched when he thought no one was looking. Lukas seemed clueless, bristling anytime Sir Antony teased him. Being bullied in his youth had made Lukas supersensitive to the Dom’s words. What someone else might consider a critique, he took as a criticism. Remarks that would have bounced off someone with thicker skin seemed to cut Lukas to the quick.

  Hoping to distract him, Leda swam in a half-circle around him, ending up on the far side, away from the other men. Lukas’s attention followed.

  She stood up quickly, knowing that her dripping-wet breasts would bounce. Beaded with water, her skin glistened in the flame-lit room.

  Lukas was entranced.

  Leda was just as fascinated with his body. Lukas spent hours training each day to give him the muscle definition required to succeed in a competitive market. His body and his looks were his commodities, but it was his personality that had won her from the start.

  “Liebchen?” he murmured when she traced his midline to his waist. “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing,” she said, dipping her finger inside a naval that was David Gandy perfect. “Just regretting that I have to work tomorrow. We have final fittings scheduled for Iron Domination weekend in The Steamroom. Are you men planning to come?”

  They were already outfitted from the New Year’s party. It was only a matter of letting Sir Piers and Mistress Jewell know that they would be attending.

  “I could be tempted,” he murmured, catching her hand and pulling her to him. “I’d go if I knew that you would be there. I have fond memories of a certain red chaise longue in the conservatory. I wouldn’t mind making some more.”

  Reaching around, he grasped her buttocks and lifted her. Leda wrapped her legs around his trim waist and her arms around his neck. She clung to him, lifted by the water, and anchored by his hands. The buoyancy of the water made her nearly weightless. The sensation was delightfully different. It was a heady feeling.

  “I have
to help everyone get ready, but I think that I could talk Mistress Jewell into letting me take a very…long…break. Long enough that I could sneak away and oblige you. It wouldn’t hurt if you asked her, too. She likes you enough to trust you with my secrets.”

  Lukas smirked. “She didn’t tell me much that I didn’t already know, but she confirmed what I’d guessed, that you had a kidnapping fantasy. Anything else beyond that was all on us. Learning what bath products you used was the trickiest. It was easier to find where you lived. What kind of car you had. What routes you drove between home and work. With two options, we took two cars, just in case. Sir Antony drove himself. Sir Marcus and I rode with Sir Djiman. We had thought to take you outside your apartment, but you stopped at the farmer’s market instead. We let Mistress Jewell know our plans. When she couldn’t talk us out of it, she insisted on giving you a heads-up. Sir Antony called her as soon as you came out of the store. Sir Djiman watched for witnesses and gave Sir Marcus and me the signal to go. You were nearly to your car when your phone rang. I was a bundle of nerves, thinking that shoppers were going to finish and come out while our scene was going down. Not that we look like kidnappers, but with a blindfold, earplugs, and duct tape, it might have been hard to convince them that it was consensual.”

  Leda smiled softly. “They would only have had to smell me, to see that is was. I don’t think you noticed it from the front seat, but I was sopping wet in the back. All it took was catching the scent of your teakwood and cloves, and I was gushing. The thought of being kidnapped by you was so hot. Honestly, that was the most aroused I think I’ve ever been. And then to take on the four of you….”

  He brushed a kiss across her lips. Parting his own, he kissed her harder, sweeping his tongue inside to mate with hers.

  Pulling back his head, he looked at her, nostrils flared, heat burning in his jade green eyes. “You’ll get to do it again tonight. Sir Cassius will want to watch. Are you okay with that?”