Logan Chapter 93

-James-

I swallow down my shame as I keep an eye on the sub I’m planning to claim for the night. Ever since I got that single damned sniff of Logan’s assistant before lunch, my tastes have trended much more toward small blondes than ever before. Previously, I would pick the leggy model types. I never had an opinion on hair color besides a distaste for the obviously unnatural. I’ve always liked my subs with hair long enough to be an extra handhold, as well, but Anna’s short hair matches her no-nonsense personality that I can’t imagine her any other way.

Since I’ve seen her, I’ve been… intrigued by the possibilities of a sub much shorter and smaller than I am. The physical domination has always been a given- any shifter is going to be many times stronger than a human woman, no matter what, but to have that physical disparity be so obvious is admittedly pushing some previously-unknown buttons of mine. There are some positions that no longer work with a body that doesn’t match up to mine, but there are some things that work much better. It’s much more believable to throw around a smaller woman, and they’re so much easier to physically restrain when I don’t have to reach quite as far.

I remind myself that I’m just doing what I have to do to keep Anna safe. If she’s my mate… She deserves better. I would fight the very stars to keep from pulling someone so small, so innocent into the games I’ve been playing. My needs have been escalating for years, now, with no end in sight. I think fondly of the days when just being called Sir was enough. I look back on it with a rueful nostalgia almost comparable to looking back at my childhood. I had no idea how far down the rabbit hole I would delve, back then. I’m not sure how I would have stopped myself, had I known, but I would have tried.

Now it’s like I’m holding back an avalanche- finding more and more extreme clubs to attend, buying more and more expensive equipment. Thankfully, there will always be a woman willing to go just a little further, a little harder, for someone with my reputation. One such lady is looking back across the room at me coquettishly. She knows better than to actually make eye contact in this place, but she’s stretching the rules a bit to glance my way. I’m new to this particular club, and I’m hoping I can stay here at least a few months before I start to itch again. Just before I resolve to stand up and signal her to fall in behind me, my phone vibrates on the table. I have only a few contacts set to actually reach me on this phone, so I know it’s important when I actually get a notification. A text from Logan. Hell.

Logan: Well, men. Just had someone crash my… wedding ceremony with a camera. Who knows someone I can get a marriage cert from at this time of night?

Derek: I have somebody on my legal team. We have an artist dealing with something like this at least once a year. Do you want Emory to have your last name?

Logan: Duh

Me: You’re missing the important questions.

Me: Is the photographer taken care of?

Logan: On it now. Emory is freaking a little bit, but we’ll get him to be discreet. Can’t have the press in an uproar, after all.

Oliver: Delicate flower.

Me: Did he get the entire ceremony? Do the guests still have their privacy?

Logan: He might have but he doesn’t have them anymore. Everyone is safe.

It took years to get the guys to text in code. Oliver was more willing than the others, due to his extensive knowledge of just what can be done with technology, but I have intimate knowledge of the patchy nature of privacy in the everyman’s life- of what can be done with someone else’s phone- due to my day job. I can’t count the number of times we’ve found someone who thought they were ‘off the grid’ with a damned smartphone in their hands. Turning the location off doesn’t stop anyone from triangulating you, and text messages are not secure. I’d much rather speak in person, read hard copies,and encrypt our video chats.

No security is without holes, and the closer we get, the scarier it is when someone slips through. Logan is dealing with low-level paps and conspiracy weirdos, so I’m not incredibly concerned about him, yet. It’s what these people will lead to, if we’re not careful. Security is always a net, never a wall. The only way to win is to be more paranoid than every other asshole on the planet.

It looks like I’ll spend the rest of the night monitoring. I give the little piece across the room an apologetic head shake- she’s looking up toward me again- and leave money for my tab on the table before I grab my phone and head out. I briefly entertain the thought of demanding the club doms discipline the blonde for breaking protocol, but I don’t have the time tonight. It wouldn’t be worth it if I can’t watch it in person, anyway. I just have to shove my wolf back down for another night. I can’t imagine what would have happened if I actually got an undiluted whiff of Anna’s scent, rather than the version intermingled with Logan’s and the office around her. I didn’t get close enough to set my wolf off entirely. Hopefully, she’ll never know just how grateful she should be for that.