Locked Away

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Cam rolled over to watch the still figure that breathed slowly and gently beside her. It never seemed like they’d been together for over fifteen years, but then, much of the time had been spent physically apart from each other. They had to make the most of every minute they had together.

She looked down into Michael’s sleeping face. I’ll miss her she thought again, as she did every time she had to go away on assignment. She could never get enough of Michael, so strong and tough, martial arts instructor with a tenth-degree black-belt and a senior commissioner in the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Yet, at times like this, a soft, gentle woman, almost childlike in her demeanor.

Who’d have thought the relationship would last this long? Aside from the fact that they were both in law enforcement, it didn’t seem like they had much in common. Jean-Rene swore that Cam had been a good influence on his little sister. Michael was more settled since Cam entered her life. Michael no longer prowled leather bars looking for one-night stands.

Cam’s sister, Lori, agreed that the relationship was good. She thought Michael’s influence made Cam more careful and less likely to leap into situations before she considered the consequences.

Only Cam’s best friend Pauly really understood their connection. When they were together, neither had to be in charge at every moment of every day. Michael had learned to let go of her role as a high-ranking official and Cam could relax between assignments without having to worry and look over her shoulder every minute.

After nine long years of living a thousand miles away from each other and having to cram all their emotions into a week or sometimes just a weekend, their commitment to each other had grown stronger and stronger. When Cam purchased the house on the lake and was within commuting distance of Michael’s work, it just seemed natural to get married.

Cam leaned over and gently blew Michael’s long, golden brown hair back from her face. Still not awake, Michael brushed her face as she felt the breeze. Undeterred, Cam blew again and Michael’s hand once more brushed aside whatever was touching her face. Cam tried a third time.

“If you’re trying to wake me, you succeeded.” The words were slow and soft. Michael’s eyes remained closed.

“Then go back to sleep, and I’ll go down and get the coffee started,” Cam purred as she leaned over to kiss Michael.

“No, you won’t.” Michael rolled over suddenly and pinned Cam to the bed. “You have to stay here and finish what you started,” she whispered with a smile. “It seems to me that we didn’t quite finish last night.”

“We wore ourselves out,” Cam chuckled. She looked up into the eyes above her.

“But I told you that you are mine until Monday and that I wanted you to stay in bed all weekend.”

“I have packing to do,” Cam protested. “There are a lot of things that have to get done before I leave.”

“No, Cherie,” Michael declared. “There is nothing that is more important than us being together today. Everything will get done. If anything gets left, I’ll be here to finish it or Jean-Rene or Guy will come by and do whatever needs to be done. I know you. It will only take you ten minutes to pack. You’ve already decided what you need to take.”

“Ah, you know me much too well.”

Michael cuddled into her and planted a hard kiss on Cam’s lips.

“I’ll miss you,” Michael admitted.

“Because you no longer have your harem to keep you occupied while I’m gone?”

Before they met and until they decided to keep their relationship monogamous and exchanged marriage vows, Michael had an array of “sweet young things” that were always vying for her attention. She swept from one to another without letting any of them tie her heart down.

Michael smiled and rolled away. “Oui. But my real harem is leaving also.”

“Your real harem? Where’s it going?” Cam asked, turning to look into Michael’s face.

“With you, Cherie. There are so many sides of you that I feel like you are my harem. I’m always surprised by who you are.”

Cam chuckled and Michael sat up to look at her.

“C’est vrai. It’s true, Cherie. You put on a gown, high heels and makeup and you are the most elegant woman I know; then your eyes narrow and they are as deadly as your knife. You dress in jeans and a T-shirt and go in search of drug dealers; then you slip into a business suit and help negotiate an international treaty or guard some diplomat. You are one thing one day and another the next. You can talk to anyone about anything. You are truly a chameleon. I never know who’s coming home to me. You are my harem. You are many more women than I ever dated.”

“Yes,” Cam said as she laughed, “that’s very true. Of course, even though there were many of them, they were all the same: much too young, blonde, and clueless. All they wanted was to be the chosen one of Mistress Michael Gauchet, Dominatrix Extraordinaire. I never understood how you could remember who was who.”

Michael shook her head. “Oui. What was I thinking?” She rolled over onto Cam. “It isn’t what I’m thinking now.” Her grin told more than her words did.

“You are incorrigible. Cam laughed, holding Michael’s face between her hands.

“Oui. And wanting to make love to you so very much.”

“That’s what you always say,” Cam said as she teased. “You’ll need a new line. I’ll give you until I get back to think of something new to say.”

“I’ll never have anything else to say. I’ll always want to make love to you.” Michael lowered her head and started placing small kisses down Cam’s neck.

Cam’s breathing caught as Michael continued. But Michael stopped when she came to the scar near Cam’s shoulder. “But you will have to promise me one other thing before I let you go.”

“And what might that be?” Cam asked.

Michael rolled to the side and ran her hand slowly down Cam’s body, stopping as she reached each scar along the way.

Among the many scars, there was a scar under Cam’s left eye where she’d been slugged during her first assignment, one bullet wound scar below her left collar-bone, a long knife wound under her right rib cage, two other bullet scars on her left thigh, and many other smaller scars across her body, each received in the line of duty.

“You must be careful this time,” she stated.

“I will,” Cam answered, her breath finally back to a place where she could control it.

“Very careful?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Cam answered solidly.

“I don’t want to go flying some place to get you out of a hospital. Do you hear me?” Michael gave Cam a little shake to emphasize her point.

“Yes, Michael, I’ll be careful and I’ll come home to you in one piece. I promise I won’t get hurt.” The argument was old. Michael always worried until she saw Cam again.

Michael leaned over to plant a kiss on the side of her neck, under her ear. Cam could feel the wetness between her legs starting again.

“I’ve never liked seeing you damaged like this,” she said as she stroked the scar on Cam’s thigh. “I want you to come home unscathed this time. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“If you come home with one dent,” Michael said as she slid down to the lower part of Cam’s body, “I’ll beat you until you can’t remember your name. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, please, Mistress.” Cam knew she could get away with a smart answer like that if she phrased it right.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” Michael laughed as she gently slapped Cam’s hip.

Using her most submissive voice, Cam replied, “If it pleases you to do that, Mistress.”

Before they met, Michael had been deeply involved in the leather community and her relationships had been tinged with sadomasochism, bondage, and discipline. Her relationship with Cam had started that way but it had become much more vanilla as the years wore on. Now they joked about it but never fell back into those roles.

“It wouldn’t please me at all, Cam,” Michael said softly, suddenly serious. “I love you too much to do that. You know that.”

Cam looked into Michael’s eyes that were suddenly so serious. She reached for Michael’s face and slowly drew it to hers until their lips met. This time Cam took control, pressing into Michael’s lips, slowly, forcefully. Her tongue found its way between Michael’s teeth and slowly delved inside. She pulled Michael onto her and in response, Michael hugged her closely.

When Michael pulled away slightly, Cam glanced over at the window.

“It’s almost dawn. We’ve been making love all night. Don’t we have other things to do today?”

“Mais no!” Michael answered. “The only thing I absolutely have to do today is make love to you.”

“All day?”

“Oui. All day and most of tomorrow. I cannot let you go off without being loved completely. You are mine until Monday morning.”

“We’re not getting out of bed?”

“No. I will get up in a few minutes and go and make you a delicious breakfast for here in bed. But first I will make love to you again.”

“You are the very best part of my life,” Cam whispered as Michael’s mouth began its journey down Cam’s body.

* * * *

Michael got up off the bed and picked up the tray of dirty dishes that held only crumbs of the breakfast she’d made them. She set the tray on the table next to the door so she wouldn’t forget it the next time she went downstairs. Then she sank down onto the corner of the bed.

The big bedroom, which she preferred to call the Mistress, and not the Master, bedroom, was a wonderful room. It was so unlike her own house in Montreal, which she kept shaded so that people wouldn’t see more than they wanted to.

Michael refilled Cam’s cup of coffee and held it out to her.

“Mmm.” Cam smiled as she sipped the strong French-blend coffee. “That was a wonderful breakfast, sweetie. Where did you find those chocolate-filled croissants?”

“At that little shop two blocks from the dojo,” Michael answered as she poured herself another cup of coffee. “I knew you’d like them.”

“The whole breakfast: the coffee, cheese, fruit and croissants, was wonderful.”

“I didn’t realize it was going to be a going-away breakfast when I bought them, but I’m glad I had something special for you.”

Michael looked up as the roar of a heavy-duty outboard motor rose from the lake. As the sound got nearer, she got up to look out the window.

“Merde,” she swore, as she recognized the straight-backed stance of Guy Albert Gauchet at the helm. “It’s my brother and he’s got someone with him. I’m glad I picked up the dishes and our clothes while the coffee was brewing.” Guy Gauchet’s guest had his back to the house so Michael didn’t recognize him.

She quickly grabbed the McGill sweatshirt that had been thrown to the floor earlier and pulled it over her head. She snatched up the jeans beneath the chair and quickly drew them up over her hips.

“I’ll get rid of them,” she whispered with a wink, then started for the door, picking up the tray to bring downstairs. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

As if I would, she thought and listened as Michael rushed down the stairs.