by M. S. Parker
It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t her.
I brought my hand down on her naked ass, the round globes one of the few areas of her body I’d left untouched by the ropes. And exactly for this reason. “Keep it up. What do you want?”
Sibella’s low, throaty voice was almost – almost – a match for Toni’s. “I want you, Sir–”
I knew what was wrong. Why it sounded wrong. She hadn't done that.
“Don’t call me, Sir. Just…” I squeezed my eyes closed. When I heard her call me…I wanted it to be real. Now, I just needed release. “Tell me what you want.”
“You…fucking me. Just like this. Please, harder…harder…harder…I want to come, please, oh, please…let me…”
She lapsed into silence as her body stiffened, her ass tightening around me until it was almost painful.
She was close.
I knew the signs.
I should help. Get her to come so when I was ready…
A harsh gasp broke through my concentration, and I opened my eyes.
Toni stood in the open doorway to the room.
My playroom, the one I’d designed solely for my kind of sexual play.
Her eyes tracked down over my naked chest to linger on Sibella and where my cock was half-way in the other woman's ass.
Her mouth trembled.
I rotated my hips and drove deep and hard into Sibella, her ass a hot, silken glove, even through the condom.
Without taking my eyes off the petite woman in the doorway, I spanked Sibella again. “Beg me,” I rasped.
“Please, please, please, Sir!”
Toni’s eyes narrowed and her face flushed a hot, angry red.
As I brought my hand down on Sibella’s ass again, Toni spun on her heel and stormed away.
I buried myself balls-deep in Sibella's ass as she came…
Chapter 6
Toni
“That…that…that asshole!!” I said it through gritted teeth, and it wasn't even close to enough. There wasn't a word in the English language bad enough for the sort of person that bastard was.
Or for how fucking stupid I felt.
Shaking and hot with the anger inside me, I was almost all the way to the door when the phone rang.
I almost kept going.
I couldn't even explain why I stopped.
Maybe some part of me knew.
I hesitated and looked down the long hallway. Ash hadn’t even stopped, hadn’t even slowed. The fucker had his cock half in her ass and hadn't even blinked. In fact, he’d all but taunted me.
“Beg me…”
Like he wanted me to know what he wanted. Like he wanted me to know I’d come up short.
As if his exit this morning hadn't been enough to tell me that I hadn't measured up.
All those thoughts rushed through my head in a span of a second as I was turning to look at the phone. The name on the caller ID made my heart stop, then nearly burst out of my chest as I dove for the phone. I snatched it up, barely able to think.
“Hello?”
“I assume Mr. Lang has noticed that he’s…missing something.”
I sucked in a breath. “Who is this?”
A voice, disembodied and distorted, chuckled. “Now, now, Miss Gallagher. I’ll do the talking in this conversation. Is Mr. Lang available?”
Shaking, I lowered the phone and looked down the hallway, back to where…back to Ash. I shouted his name. He didn’t answer.
The screaming I’d heard earlier had gone silent. He must have told her to be quiet. She would've listened, of course. Because that was the kind of woman he wanted…I pushed the thought from my head. Not important.
A distant voice caught my attention and I stopped, lifting the phone to my ear as I started down the hallway. “I’m getting him.”
“No time for that, Miss Gallagher. I’m afraid you’ll have to work as the go-between for now.”
I shot another look down the hall and tried to walk faster. If I ran, I wouldn't be able to hear. Damn it, Ash…
My knees went weak as the man laid out his demands.
The line went dead.
Too late.
I sank to the floor and stared at the plush carpet beneath me. I tried to breathe, tried to steady myself.
But I couldn’t.
I ended up vomiting the entire contents of my stomach up on the floor.
Chapter 7
Toni
Thursday morning.
I mentally counted the days since Isadora had been kidnapped.
I wanted to puke.
Again.
As far as I knew, there hadn’t been any more calls, no more contact from the kidnapper. Not since Tuesday afternoon. Instead of a comforting blur, it was stark and clear. Every memory from the moment I'd seen Ash – Mr. Lang – through the rest of the day and into the night had been seared into my brain.
I hadn’t quite made it to my feet when Mr. Lang had appeared in the door, his jeans unzipped, a cruel smirk on his lips. “What are you…?”
That had been the last semi-civilized statement he’d said to me.
Everything else since then had either been shouted or snarled.
He'd been furious.
I hadn't deserved any of it. It hadn't been like I’d planned to walk in on his little kink-fest, and I’d sure as hell tried to get him on the phone. He had just been too busy, all balls-deep in the ass of his tied-up girlfriend.
Were they serious?
I didn’t know.
I didn't care, I reminded myself.
But even if I didn't care, I didn't understand why he was so pissed at me. I had tried to get to him in time. I'd told the cops everything the kidnapper had said. I'd remembered everything.
But still, it hadn’t been good enough.
Not surprising. A guy like him expected perfection, something I was sorely lacking in. I was also lacking in answers and he seemed to think I could pull those out of my ass.
The rest of the night's memories followed.
“Miss Gallagher?”
I tensed at the sound of my name. I hadn't been able to help it. I didn’t hate cops, didn’t distrust them, per se. But they’d made my life hell, had made my family’s life hell back when Vic had gotten in trouble. They'd assumed some of us – if not all of us – had been involved in the crap he’d been doing.
The FBI agent had noticed my flinch and had lifted a trim black eyebrow. Her skin had been a lovely shade of warm brown, and she smiled as she'd come into the room and sat down. “Don’t like cops, huh?”
“You’re with the FBI,” I'd said without thinking. “That’s actually scarier than the cops.”
She'd just chuckled. “You’re very blunt, Miss Gallagher…or is it Dr. Gallagher?”
“Not yet.” I'd grimaced at the thought of the final I'd had coming up the next morning and the notes I needed to study.
It hadn't ended up mattering. I hadn't gone in to take it. I'd still have a C even if I didn't retake the test. After a lifetime of perfection, one fucking C had barely even registered.
“Must be hard, working a job like this and still going to school.”
I'd shrugged. “I’ve always had to work. It’s nothing new.” I hadn't understood why she'd been asking about work rather than the phone call.
“I hear ya on that. I’ve been there.” She'd smiled. “Special Agent Dionne Marcum, by the way. Man, I tell you…I look around this place, see all this money. I had to do what you did, bust my ass all the way through, working a job, sometimes two, and there would be some of these kids with their silver spoon choking them as they complained about how hard it was getting up for a nine a.m. class.”
I'd leaned back, studying her. “I know the type.”
“You’re working for the type,” she'd countered.
“Isadora’s a doll. She’s not a complainer.” I'd blown out a sigh. “Please tell me you all have something.”
“I wish I could.”
Off in the distance, I'd heard A
sh – Mr. Lang – his voice big and harsh. Dionne had grimaced. “That one isn’t a doll. Why'd you come in today?”
“Because she wanted me to do a job for her, and…” I'd stopped. It hadn't been easy to say. “I’m scared. I’m worried about her. Being here…well, I was hoping I’ll hear good news here, rather than something bad on the news.”
She'd continued to study me. She'd had a good game face, but hey, I’d grown up with Victor. I'd known when I was being played and I'd seen the wheels churning, see them spinning in her head. Tired of the game, I'd leaned forward, elbows braced on the edge of the desk. It was neatly organized, everything I needed within reach, including a computer that was so top of the line, I didn't think it was even on the market yet.
“Can I make this easy on both of us?” I'd said softly.
There had been just the tiniest break in her it’s just us girls mask. Then she'd cocked her eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“Look…” I'd hitched up a shoulder. “I'll give you credit. You're good at this – really good. But you can stop with the trying to bond with me thing. Just ask your questions.”
The friendly look had drained out of her eyes and she'd cocked her head, indicated that I should continue.
“Let’s just say I had a good crash course when it comes to cops. I know a routine when I see one.” I'd given her a wry smile and shrugged. “You already pointed out that I’m blunt. I am. And I prefer it when people are the same with me. I gave your buddy over there everything the kidnapper said to me on the phone. What else do you want to know?”
“Fair enough,” Dionne had said, giving me an appraising smile. “So let’s look at it like this. You’re busting your ass through school. Had a job that made it…well, easier. Not easy, though. But you could study, and it let you take the time you needed. Then life kicks you in the face, and you lose that job, had to find another. Here you are, working with people in the lap of luxury. Isadora Lang? If she wanted to, she’d never need to do anything but spend money and she wouldn't run out. Isn’t that rough?”
“No. Why would it be?” I'd answered honestly and kept my eyes steady on her.
Dionne had leaned forward. “Toni, you have the smarts, drive and determination to do anything. But you had to work. You had a full ride offered to you, only to have it taken away because of things your brother did. That’s hardly fair.”
“Can I share a secret?” I'd dropped my voice. “Life’s not fair. You learn to deal with it.”
She'd started to say something else and I'd lifted a hand. I was tired of it by then. They needed to be out trying to track down the caller, not questioning me about my life.
“Nothing else.” I'd said. “I get what you’re poking at. Somebody decided that it was plausible that I might have gotten drawn into this because I’m hard up for money. Somebody offered me easy money…nobody would be hurt. I just had to do what they asked…how close am I?”
Dionne had shrugged, her gaze shrewd. “Close enough that I imagine you watch a lot of Law & Order or NCIS. Plenty of people get the rough idea of what they think happens, Miss Gallagher.”
“Yeah, well. I lived it.” Thinking about what happened with Victor had been enough to turn my stomach. If I'd had anything left in it, I might've thrown up again. “I lived it. It almost destroyed my family. If you think I would do something like that…”
She'd nodded and rose from her chair, heading toward the door. Halfway there, she'd paused and looked back. “If it helps? Personally, I don’t think you would. But personally can’t come into play here. It’s about the job and what can be proved.”
We'd stared at each other for a moment and then she'd nodded, turned around and left.
Things hadn't gotten any better from there. Like right now. It was Thursday morning and I was back at the Lang house, trying to find out what was going on. No one had told me anything.
I hovered outside the office, hardly daring to breathe. I had my eyes closed, and I kept having to unclench my hands from the fists I’d unconsciously knotted them into.
I wanted to barge inside and demand to know what was going on.
Not that it would do much good. Mr. Lang wasn’t talking to me. He hadn't since he'd screamed at me two days ago.
So I was reduced to this. Sneaking outside the door to Mr. Lang's office. Just beyond the door, I could hear people talking.
“…sorry. There was just no reason to hold him.” It was one of the FBI agents. I couldn’t remember the name.
“What do you mean you had no reason to hold him?” Ash snapped. His voice I knew. Even if I wished I didn't.
“Holding him any longer than we did would have been a violation of Mr. Stevens’ rights. There is simply no indication he’s involved. His alibi is ironclad and—”
“I don’t want to hear about anybody’s rights when my sister is still missing!” Ash shouted.
My heart ached for him and I couldn't quite hate myself for it. No matter how I felt about him right now, his sister was missing.
“What about her rights?”
“We're looking, Mr. Lang.” That firm no, nonsense voice…I recognized that one. Marcum. “But your sister’s boyfriend had an alibi, and there’s no sign he’s involved in this.”
“What do you expect him to do? Hang a sign in his window? Kidnapped woman – ask me for details?”
I closed my eyes at the angry desperation in his voice even as I eased away from the door. If I kept standing here, I’d get noticed by one of the household staff. They wouldn't yell at me, but it'd be awkward.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Lang. We’ve been monitoring his calls, his whereabouts, everything. He’s not involved…oh, hello.”
Marcum had opened the door. With her was a tall man, his blond hair already thinning. Marcum didn’t look surprised. The guy looked a bit thrown to see me there, but he covered quickly. The two lawyers busied themselves with lawyerly things while the thickly muscled man at Ash’s shoulder just stared at me. He was a member of Ash’s security detail. He'd stared at me quite a bit since I was hired.
Mr. Lang did a lot of ignoring – at least when it came to me lately.
Fine. Let him.
I looked at Special Agent Marcum. “I guess there hasn’t been any news.”
She didn’t respond, but her expression said it all.
Mr. Lang finally spoke to me. “Miss Gallagher, if you don't have anything specific to do, you can go.”
“I don’t work for you.” I narrowed my eyes at him.
He flicked a look at me. “No. You work for Isadora. Since she’s not…available, why'd you come in this morning?”
The disparaging tone got to me, and he gave me one of those looks, like I wasn't even worth his time. I had another sudden flash of memory – him burying himself inside that woman. My stomach twisted and I resorted to anger. He wasn’t the only one who could be an ass. He was about the meet the bitch queen. Yeah, Isadora was his sister, but I was worried about her too, and he had no reason to be acting this way.
Stepping past the agents into the office, I stopped a few feet away from the desk and folded my arms over my chest.
“I don’t recall inviting you to participate in this conversation,” he snapped at me.
“Screw you.” I didn't even glance at the lawyers, agents or the security guy looming in the background. This was between me and the ass. “You want to tell why you’ve got some bug up your ass about me, Mr. Lang?”
“I don’t have a bug up my ass as you so elegantly put it.” His jaw went tight and his eyes burned hot. “But as you are aware, my sister has gone missing. After you botched the call, the kidnapper hasn’t–”
He said something else.
I knew he did.
But after those words “you botched the call” my head sort of exploded.
Or maybe I did.
Jerking back, my spine ramrod straight, I glared at him.
“Did you just say I botched the call?” I demanded, pointing a finger at him. “I screame
d my lungs out for you, asshole. But you were too busy fucking some woman’s brains out to be bothered.”
There was a faint snap.
From the corner of my eye, I saw one of the lawyers – a portly, middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair – had a pencil. Or pencils, rather. He’d snapped the one he was holding in two and didn’t even seem to notice.
The other one was staring stonily ahead as if he’d gone mute, blind and deaf.
Actually, save for my ragged breathing, there wasn’t a sound in the room.
Ash rose from his desk, harsh flags of color riding high on his cheeks. But he wasn’t blushing. He was furious.
Good.
Curling my lip at him, I said, “I was basically screaming for you, but that wasn't the screaming you were listening to, was it? I was practically running down the hall while trying to listen and remember everything that man was saying. He wasn’t going to wait for you to get your dick out of her ass, much less walk to the phone.”
The others in the room were trying so hard not to look at us, abruptly, I started to laugh at the sheer stupidity of it.
Spinning away, I tried to get myself under control. There was nothing humorous about this. Nothing. It was all just crazy…and sad. Scary. Once I had that final, bitter laugh out, I looked over at him one last time. “I was walking by the phone when it rang. I saw her number and started to call for you. It’s not my fault that you were too busy to pay attention.”
His eyes had turned to shards of ice, but I met them dead on and gave him a derisive sneer before I turned away.
“It's curious…” Ash’s voice was even colder than his stare had been and I wouldn’t have thought that was possible. But even more cutting than his tone, his gaze? The words. “You came in when you clearly weren't needed.”
Or wanted. The words hung there, unsaid, but heard all the same.
“And then the one fucking phone call that’s received? Who's here to answer it, at the exact right time? You. One might call it a coincidence.”
I turned and stared at him. A different kind of quiet covered the room.
“I don’t believe in coincidences,” he said softly.
The implication almost sent me staggering. But one lesson I’d learned early on. Never let them know they hurt you. I’d cry, later. Much later.