“I see.” I put my hands in my pockets. Fear could be enough of a deterrent to control a submissive, and it appears to have worked in Lois’s case, so I’ll file it away for future reference. “Has Adie fed you yet, this morning?” If he hasn’t, I’m going to kill him.
“No, Sir,” she whispers.
“Why that little…” I immediately see red.
“He offered. I wasn’t hungry, Sir.”
Ah, well that’s different. My flare of temper disappears as quickly as it came.
“Right, let’s get you something to eat then. You need a few decent meals in you.”
“Permission…” her word ends on a squeak as I interrupt her.
“Denied.” I grin to myself. Even though Lois isn’t my favourite person at the moment, I have a feeling I might enjoy myself today. If she wants to go behind my back with Dumortier, I can do a few unpleasant things myself in return. The woman has more than earned the shit that’s coming her way. “As your dominant, you do whatever I say, Lois. So, if I say eat, you eat, and you don’t make a murmur. We clear?” There really is only one answer to that.
“Yes, Sir.” At least she can do something right.
Leading her naked through the halls on all fours, I try my best not to look at her. This isn’t going to wash. I need my alter ego. When she first met me at Elite Encounters, I was firmly in dominant mode. I need to get there again. The last week has shaken me, yesterday in particular, but that’s not an excuse. There is no room for errors in this line of work.
When we get to the kitchen, I hook her leash around a chair leg. “Sit perfectly still, thighs to calves, arms behind your back, and do not move a muscle.” Still looking at the floor, she nods at me. Straightening her body, as I instructed earlier, she then assumes the position I have given her. This time her posture is perfect, but I adjust it anyway, to get her used to people ‘handling’ her.
“A little straighter from the neck. Yes, that’s it,” I say, tapping her shoulder as a reward for a job well done. Walking over to the cupboards, I then start pulling pans about. Looking at my watch, I decide we might as well skip breakfast and go straight to lunch. Searching through the contents of the fridge, I remove the necessary ingredients and begin. Looking for the most fattening things I can find, I end up with fish, butter and potatoes. If I had the time, I’d make fresh pizza, but I don’t. Instead, I opt for salmon in a lemon and lime butter, with a warm maple and bacon potato salad on the side. If she doesn’t eat up every last damn mouthful, I swear I’m going to spank her ass raw, and that will hurt as Adie’s already had a go, by the looks of it.
I work in silence. Lois needs to get used to it. Her thoughts and opinions don’t matter for the next few days. All she needs to do is listen to orders and obey. She’s done it before, and she can do it again.
When the meal is complete, I set two plates on the table and pull out a chair. Lois doesn’t move. Excellent.
“Come sit alongside me, pet.” I beckon her towards me with a finger, and she crawls forwards obediently. “Get used to dinner time being messy from now on in. You’ll be fed, and you can’t use your hands. If you make a mess, you leave it there. Do not move a muscle to clean it up. Understand?” Lois swallows and nods. She is careful not to look at me. I’m not sure if she’s obeying orders or if this is because of what happened in the tank. I’m afraid it might be the latter.
“Before we begin, I need to talk to about yesterday. I’m sorry for what happened. I thought I’d manage to get you through much quicker…”
She shakes her head fiercely, dispelling my fears. “You have nothing to be sorry for. There isn’t another man alive who could have got me through that ordeal – not even Adie. If anything, I should thank you, Sir.”
Inwardly, I breathe a sigh of relief. If she’d been scared of me, working together would have been difficult. At least we’ve got that out of the way. I think she’s let me off the hook far too quickly, but I can’t deny that I’m glad. If only I could forgive myself so easily.
Cutting up a small piece of salmon, I scoop up some potatoes and then place it before her mouth.
“Open wide, Lois.” She does and I begin to feed her. Silence resumes until our plates are half-finished. Then I decide to ask a question that’s been bugging me for a while.
“Why?”
There’s a long pause. “I’m sorry, Sir. I don’t think I understand the question.” Lois looks at the floor and doesn’t move a muscle. My eyes narrow. She knows exactly what I’m talking about.
“Look at me.” She does, raising her head until her pale grey eyes are swimming in my depths. They are covered with a sheen of water, and she looks ready to cry. Did Adie make her cry earlier? It’s more than likely. That man lives for misery.
Repeating my question, I make sure she can’t avoid answering it this time. “Why are you working with Alain? Why are you helping him? What hold does he have over you? I don’t think you’re in it for the cash. I’ve known plenty of mercenaries in my time, and you don’t fit the bill.” I refuse to believe this is all about money. It doesn’t add up.
Lois’s lips compress. Whatever her secrets are, she’s not sharing them. Shovelling another forkful of salmon into her, I continue as quickly as I can until the plate is empty. I have ways of making people talk, and she’s just given me her ass on a platter.
“You will talk to me, Lois. For the next five days I own you, so if you don’t want to suffer too much, I suggest you come clean.” There’s another shake of her head, but she doesn’t lower her eyes. My temper begins to simmer but unleashing it will get me exactly nowhere. It’s very easy to despise what Lois did, but it’s a lot harder to hate her face to face. We’ve been through too much together. I have a hard time separating that one particular event from all the others. Lois’s moral code is not that fucked up. I’m sure of it. If she was primarily in it for the money, she wouldn’t be working for Sharkey.
Raising her eyebrows, letting me know she’s prepared to enter a war zone and do battle with me, she says, “We both know I enjoy suffering.”
My lips open in shock before my fist slams down on the table, making both plates and Lois jump simultaneously. I then close my eyes and lay my palm flat on the cool metal surface of the table. Taking a long careful breath, I prepare to retaliate.
“Really?” I then ask, so quietly, she’d have to strain her ears to hear me. Then a little louder, “Is this really the way you want to play this game?” I can’t marry up the pieces in my head. One minute she wants to kill Alain, and in the next she’s working for him. Will the real version of Lois stand up, please?
“It’s the only way I can play this game,” she whispers.
Our stalemate continues, but at least this time around, I have the upper hand.
Chapter Eleven – Lois
The temperature outside is a balmy nineteen degrees. Butterflies hop across terracotta pots filled with hyacinths and pansies. The fan palms to the side of us flicker gently in the breeze and I swear I can smell the salt from the ocean. There isn’t a cloud in the sky above us, and bar the occasional aircraft that flies over us on its way to Nice, all is quiet. It’s not going to stay that way for long.
James and I are on edge, which is nothing new, but this time the edge is as sharp as a Samurai blade. There are several reasons why we’re both uptight. First and foremost is the fact that just before we leave Couleur Lavande, Alain decides to pay us all a visit. Blabbering away, all smiles and sunshine, he sits us all down outside for lunch, while he comes to wish James and I good luck. Adie also sits with us, looking rather uncomfortable. That’s because we’ve all figured out what comes next. Alain needs insurance that the pair of us will come back to him – the only leverage he has that will ensure that is Adie.
Alain claps his hands to make sure he has our attention, even though everyone is silent. His presence is enough to sicken us all.
“Right, ladies and gentlemen, I’m just going to go over the rules. Lois and James, you
have three days to find and secure my missing batch of cocaine. You’ve been given a list of contacts who can help, and you’ve got your cover stories. Be careful. You’ll be dealing with the Italian mafia, and they don’t take prisoners. If you fuck up, you die.” Alain gives us all a long look. “You’re not the only ones who will die, either. For added incentive, Adie here is going to be fitted with a little belt.” Alain motions for the two guards behind us to pull Adie up out of his chair, but Adie is already upright, pushing his chair back into them smartly.
“You fucking asshole,” he shouts, getting two angry strides closer to his brother before the guards manage to restrain him. Even then, backup has to be called. Adie is going to fight tooth and nail to stop this from happening, and I can’t say I blame him.
“Calm down,” Alain says. “Why do you always have to be such a drama queen?”
Adie is now surrounded by four men, and he’s going nowhere. James and I make no move to help him. We are vastly outnumbered, and we’d be wasting our breath.
“Pin his arms behind his back and shove him against the wall,” Alain says exasperatedly, when the struggling continues. Adie’s fists are flying everywhere as he tries to make his displeasure known, but eventually the guards get the better of him.
Once they’ve restrained him, Alain makes a call on his cell, and seconds later a thick belt which features a control panel and numerous coloured wires is paraded into the courtyard and handed over. Alain handles it with care. Walking towards Adie, who is now unable to move, he fastens it around his waist, pressing a few buttons on the controller until it springs to life with bleeps and flashing lights. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out Adie’s being rigged up as a human bomb. When Alain moves out of the way, sure enough a countdown clock is visible around his waist, and it’s counting down from seventy-two hours. The madness continues.
Alain waits there calmly as the belt is fitted, stroking his silk tie. When they’ve finished, he stands back to admire his work and smiles. It’s begun.
“I don’t think I have to tell anyone what that is, do I?” he says, almost gleefully, as he takes in our sober expressions. James and I both shake our heads slowly. My palms are sweating underneath the table.
“Excellent. Well, good luck, ladies and gentlemen. Happy hunting.” His last parting shot, before he leaves the room is for Adie. “I wouldn’t get that thing wet if I was you.” The sound of the door closing behind him echoes like a gunshot in my ears.
The guards release Adie a minute or two later, and he sits down in front of us, on legs that were considerably less stable than they were before.
“We’ll be back in time,” James assures him.
“Just ignore it,” I say, with a flap of my hand, trying to act a lot calmer than I feel. “It’s probably not even rigged up correctly.” A loud beep then announces five minutes has passed on the clock, and we all jump.
“Oh, you’re fucking kidding me.” Adie puts his hand over his face. “How am I supposed to sleep with this thing on? If there’s no volume control on this beast, I am going to…” His face darkens.
We don’t find out what he is going to do. Adie’s already marching past us, and at a guess, he’s off to find his brother. There will be no tearful goodbyes between us, and that’s probably for the best. I’d rather be with an army of gun-toting mafia, than stuck in this prison with the biggest monster the Western World has ever seen. That’s probably an exaggeration, but seriously – it isn’t much of one. I desperately need to get out of here.
It doesn’t take long for my wish to come true. I’m now thirty-three thousand feet in the air, and currently being jolted around by a fractious aircraft. Apparently we’ve hit a spot of turbulence, and as the seatbelt sign illuminates, the loudspeaker tells me I need to buckle in. Fantastic. That’s all my life needs right now – more restraints.
James is sitting next to me, dressed in a suit and tie, and I’m trying my best not to look at him. Don’t get me wrong, the man is sexy as hell in jeans, but the suit? Oh God… the suit. When he looks at me, my body melts like an ice-cream in a heatwave. Speaking of heatwaves, I’m not allowed any panties on this trip, and someone has seen fit to put me in a dress today. If there’s not a lovely little wet patch beneath me by the end of this flight, I’ll eat my stockings. Those I’m allowed to wear and will be wearing whenever I’m not naked, or so I’ve been told. Oh, and I get to wear maddeningly uncomfortable high heels, too. Yay.
The last two days have been hell. James hasn’t touched me, but he’s patiently spoken about everything that might be coming my way in a few hours’ time. Adie, on the other hand, hasn’t left me alone. He’s been filling in the gaps in my limited knowledge of submission and has done a pretty admirable job in the timescale allotted. Between them, they haven’t given me a moment’s peace. I can’t tell you how relieved I am to be sitting in a public place. No one can suddenly start shouting at me here, and demand I follow their orders. There’s no one to spread my legs and tie me up. More importantly, there’s no one to bring me almost to the point of no return, before leaving me hanging. I’ve had two days of that. The worst forty-eight hours of torment on record. I want to weep with frustration, but I am better than that. I can control this. Yeah, like fuck I can.
When the turbulence sign clicks off and the cabin attendant asks me what I want to drink, I look to James. He gives me a nod. This means I can answer her. At the moment, I feel like a second-class citizen, and I’ve only got half the package-deal. James rules me with tight-fisted control but gives me none of the affection and after-care a normal submissive would receive. This is my fault, of course, but it still smarts. He’s set down his terms. If I talk to him, then he’ll reassess the situation, but until then, I’m with Captain Iceberg, and one look from that man could freeze the pants off a snowman.
“Could I have a coffee, please?” My voice feels weird. I’ve hardly used it in days, and it seems unusually loud, though I’m sure this is just me. Thankfully, the attendant smiles and hands me my drink with no further comment. When she lays eyes on James, though, she nearly has heart failure. Thank God she handed me the coffee first, else it would now be in my lap. Suddenly her hands are fiddling with her hair, she’s chewing her bottom lip, and she can’t stop talking. I smile to myself evilly. There’s no need to be jealous. James can’t go near her. Even if he did, she wouldn’t be able to handle him. The man is trouble, and she’d be setting herself up for disaster. I should know.
“Why are you smiling?” The attendant has now gone. Although she would have liked to have stared at James for at least another ten minutes, the glares of the passengers behind us wouldn’t let her.
“This is really good coffee.” I point at my steaming cup and inhale it as if I’m in love.
“You haven’t even tried it yet, and you can’t lie to save your life.” James smirks. I raise a single eyebrow. Shows how little he knows. At the moment, he thinks I work for Alain and that I’m in love with Adie. I think I can lie perfectly well, thank you very much.
“Tell me the truth.” As per normal, James isn’t going to let this go. He always has to have the last bloody word.
“No.” He doesn’t own my ass yet, and until he does, he can go fuck himself. He’s made it very obvious he can’t stand the sight of me, except when he’s trying to kill me, and he runs cold a lot more often than he runs hot. I will be his puppet soon enough, but until then, he can sod off.
“No?” James voice rises an octave in warning.
“No,” I confirm. “It means…”
“I know damn well what it means. ‘No’ is not in your vocabulary, though.”
There’s nothing I can say to that. It’s not a question, so I sit there mute, stare straight ahead, and blow on my coffee to cool it. Little ripples form, where my breath has touched it, and the heat from the cup begins to steal into my flesh, in direct contrast to the block of ice beside me.
“Tell me why you were smiling, else I’ll bring you to orgasm in front
of all these people, right here, right now.” James lays his hand over my thigh in threat. He teases the band of my stockings beneath the light silk of my orange dress. My clit then does the tango between my thighs, but I am not budging.
“No. Do your worst.” I don’t believe him. We’re sitting three abreast aboard this Boeing 737, and though I’m at the window, and James is in the middle, there’s a gentleman sitting on the aisle. There’s no way he’s getting a hand under this dress without somebody noticing.
The aircraft then starts bouncing around once more, and I grip my coffee a little tighter. The seatbelt sign goes on again and there’s a chorus of snapping seatbelts.
James then leans forward, invading my personal space, and places the armrest between us in the upright position. He then removes his suit jacket very slowly and drapes it over our laps. Oh fuck.
“Remember that you’re not allowed to speak unless I ask you a question, Lois.”
His hand then slowly moves under the cover of his jacket, finding my leg. I place one hand on top of his, but it isn’t enough to stop him. Barrelling underneath my short skirt, he has his hand over my naked sex in seconds, even though I’m clenching my legs together tightly.
“Open them,” he murmurs in my ear. There’s no way I’m going to obey that command, so James give my clit a fierce nip which has me nearly gasping.
“Open your legs, or I’ll do it again, harder and harder, until I make you scream.” He isn’t kidding. His eyes are dark and menacing, and they’re eating me alive. I get another vicious nip, which makes me jump up in my seat, splattering a few drops of coffee on my leg. I yell out loud. The coffee is still hot.
Embers: A Dark Romance Love Triangle (A Special Agent Novel Book 5) Page 10