Con Man: Complete Series Box Set: A Bad Boy Romance

by M. S. Parker

  I ran my hand over my face. I needed to forget. Dammit all. I needed to stop thinking.

  A bright light caught my eye and I frowned. I'd never been much of a drinker. A bit to take an edge off. I'd never wanted to risk being like him. But now, for the first time in my life, I wanted total oblivion. It was taking all my willpower not to jog across the street and buy something strong enough to make this all go away.

  Instead, I reminded myself of where I'd come from, of what I'd been through. I reminded myself that I had a duty to this country. A life to live, and I didn't want to do that from the bottom of a bottle.

  I wouldn't be my father.

  I wouldn't be the man I'd started to be.

  I would continue to be better.

  I started to jog, then to run. Hard. Exhaustion was my best option, and I intended to pursue it.

  Chapter Seven

  Nori

  When most people heard the term BDSM or any phrases including Dominates and Submissives, images of leather and whips were generally what came to mind. Blindfolds and ball-gags and handcuffs. Most people only thought about the kinky stuff that went with this sort of lifestyle. Spanking and all that.

  I knew. Before I met Tanner, that's what I'd thought. Alpha males and the dewy-eyed innocent girls they corrupted into becoming their playthings with silk scarves and floggers.

  And then I'd learned just how wrong that was.

  Yes, there were those who liked their leather. There were uses for handcuffs and blindfolds and all of the kinky stuff. Yes, there were the more extreme aspects of the lifestyle. And, yes, there were the people who either didn't understand or didn't care about the true nature of what all of it meant.

  But that was the same of any lifestyle or belief system. There were the extremists who didn't go too far, but their desires were beyond what others could understand, and then there were the ones who gave everyone else a bad name.

  Tanner had taught me – shown me – that with a good person, BDSM could be as healthy a lifestyle as anything else. He and I were a good match. We both wanted monogamy and a real relationship, not just sex. He never took on a dominating personality when we were outside the appropriate situation, never tried to control who I was friends with or how many hours I worked. Neither of us were jealous people, and most importantly, we trusted each other implicitly.

  Trust, he'd taught me, was the key to a good Dom / Sub relationship. I had to trust him to take care of me, and he had to trust me to know my own limits. We'd worked on those limits and establishing that trust the first couple years we were together. Now, it was as natural as breathing.

  I sometimes thought it was strange how Tanner had seemed to know this secret part of me. No one else ever had. I'd dated on and off in high school, never anything really serious, and no one had ever as much as hinted that they'd seen something like this in me.

  It shouldn't have been surprising. After all, I'd never seen it in myself. Never imagined the sort of relief that could come with giving over control. One would think that sort of thing would be nerve-wracking, and it was at first. Then, as Tanner and I built that trust between us, it had gotten easier because I'd known he'd take care of me.

  A part of me had felt guilty at first for feeling like I needed someone to take care of me. In a time of feminism and woman power, admitting to needing anyone, especially a man, was often met with derision and scorn. But as I grew more comfortable in Tanner’s world, I saw that it wasn't a male-dominated world or a female-dominated one. The difference of power was only in how it manifested. I wasn't denying who I was, or relying on a man to make my life worth something. I was just acknowledging that there was a part of my personality that needed sexual submission.

  “Your mind is far away this afternoon.”

  I blinked, Tanner’s voice bringing my attention front and center. His arm tightened around me and I tried to burrow myself even closer to him.

  “Sorry,” I said quietly.

  “Nothing to apologize for,” he said amicably. “I know how much it bothers you to see your dad like that, to see how much it hurts your mom.”

  I nodded. Last night, when we'd gotten back to his place, I'd told him all about the call from my mom, going to my dad's, and how tired all of it made me. Instead of pushing sex, he'd run a bath for me. He'd pampered me, washing every inch of me and then fingering me to an orgasm that had helped me relax enough to be able to sleep.

  It hadn't, however, been able to clear my mind completely, because when I'd woken up this morning, all of it had still been there.

  Tanner stood suddenly, his arm steadying me so I didn't fall. “Come on,” he said. “Let's get you out of your head.”

  Less than ten minutes later, we were in his playroom. He was shirtless and barefoot, but I was completely naked, my clothes in their customary pile on top of the dresser closest to the door. I stood at the foot of the bed, legs spread too far apart to be comfortable, but not so far that it was painful. Each ankle was secured to the bed legs with leather restraints. The insides were soft enough that they didn't chafe, but I was still unable to move. I was bent over, my arms spread out, wrists restrained with leather similar to what was around my ankles. My breasts brushed against the silk sheets, but I wasn't close enough for anything more than a hint of friction.

  That alone was driving me crazy.

  “Do you remember what I said last night?” he asked.

  I nodded. “You said to watch because you were going to do the same thing to me.”

  I felt Tanner behind me, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against my sides as he straddled me and leaned down. I didn't look up though. He'd tell me if he wanted me to look at him, and he usually didn't during the preparation stage.

  One hand slid under me and cupped my breast. I swallowed a moan. He hadn't said I was allowed to make noises. I was always allowed to answer direct questions, but sounds of pleasure were something he controlled.

  I couldn't, however, keep in the gasp when I felt the intense pressure close on my nipple. We didn't use metal clamps, but the cloth-covered ones worked just as well for heightening the intensity of sensation. I was more prepared for the second, but my body still jerked when they rubbed against the bed, pulling on my nipples.

  “Now for the crop.”

  I closed my eyes. Shit. He was really going to act out what we'd watched last night. I knew he wouldn't go quite as far – Melanie was into more pain than I was – but I knew it was the spirit of the thing.

  His fingers ghosted over my spine, then disappeared for a moment before he brought his hand down on my ass. It wasn't hard, but enough to tell me that he intended to push my limits.

  “You can make as much noise as you want,” he said as he stepped back. “While I plan on enjoying myself, this is about you. Let yourself go.”

  I nodded and flexed my fingers. We'd come here before, Tanner and I, when I needed to clear my head. He knew exactly what to do and how to do it.

  The first crack of the crop made me cry out. The sting was quickly replaced by heat spreading across my skin. Then it came to the other side. Again and again, each one evenly spaced so that they didn't cross over. Each delicious stroke was timed perfectly so that just as the pain from one was fading, the next took its place.

  The clamps on my nipples kept me from putting my head on the bed, but I let it hang forward, gave myself over to the sensations coursing through me, focused on them rather than anything else. The term 'sub-space' was used in the BDSM world to describe the place a Sub went to in their head during a session. I didn't know if that was exactly what happened to me, but I didn't care about the name. What I cared about was the feeling of freedom that came with it.

  “Such a pretty pink color,” Tanner murmured.

  I flinched as his hand caressed my skin. Sensitive and hot, I knew I'd be feeling it the rest of the day, maybe even tomorrow too.

  “I'm not done,” he continued. “Do you remember what happened next?”

  I did rememb
er, but only a split second before the crop came down on my pussy. I screamed, vaguely thankful that Tanner had soundproofed this room. I twisted, pulling against my restraints. It was pointless, I knew. Closing my legs or putting my hands on my throbbing skin wouldn't make me feel better, but I still wanted to do it.

  “One more,” Tanner said.

  I tried not to tense, but it didn't work. My body was already anticipating the pain to come. And then it was there, bright and hot. Tears ran down my cheeks as I gasped for air.

  Then something soft and wet was moving over my tender skin, and I remembered what else Alan had done last night. He'd given Melanie far more cracks with the crop than I'd received, but once he'd finished, he'd gone down on her, soothing her with his tongue. Tanner did that now, licking and teasing every inch of me before sliding his tongue inside me.

  My head fell forward as pleasure mixed with pain. The movement jarred the clamps and I jerked involuntarily. I felt Tanner chuckle, but it was impossible to be annoyed at him when he started doing wonderful things to my clit with his tongue and lips.

  I was nearing the edge of what was sure to be a great orgasm when he suddenly stopped. I swore and he laughed, but there was no malice behind either sound. Then I heard the sound of a zipper and nearly sighed with relief.

  Hands slid over my hips and down my sides. I whimpered as he played with the clamps, pulling and twisting them until I was sobbing, begging. I wasn't sure exactly what I wanted him to do, only that the tension inside me had built to a breaking point and if I didn't get some sort of release, and soon, I was going to shatter.

  Suddenly, the pressure was gone and his hands were on my hips again. Even as the blood started to rush back into my nipples, sending pins and needles of pain through me, he drove forward and buried himself inside me with one thrust.

  Everything went white and time stopped for one delicious moment. I wasn't thinking, wasn't even really feeling. I just was.

  And then I slammed back into my body, felt every thrust, every place where my skin had been touched. Heat and pleasure mingled, turning pain into something else, that familiar sensation that was somehow more and less than anything else. I fell into it, letting my mind blank, my body move and writhe however it wanted. No coherent thinking, just that primal need and urge that drove two people together.

  I rode it even as Tanner rode me. I was aware he was there, of course, could feel every inch of his thick cock stretching me. I could feel his hands on me, feel all of the things he'd done. But a part of me was still alone as I let go. I trusted him, knew he'd never take things too far. He was safe.

  I wrapped myself up in that thought even as I came again. I sagged against the bed, making some sort of sound when my sensitive nipples came in contact with the sheets. Then Tanner was coming too, and I felt him go inside me. Again, familiar and safe.

  He slumped over me for a minute, pressing his lips to the back of my neck, my shoulder. Then he was up, pulling out, and working on releasing me. I didn't try to help or move. I knew he'd take care of all of it.

  He was familiar and safe. He understood me. Knew what I needed and always got me there. He was constant and reliable, things that most people usually didn't associate with the S&M world, but he was those things. I could always count on him. And I loved him.

  But...

  I didn't let the thought process go through to a conclusion, but I couldn't help feeling that there was something missing, that there was still some part of me he couldn't quite reach.

  I didn't know if he felt the same way, but I didn't want to ask. Didn't want to risk losing what I had. Didn't want to hurt him. I couldn't make him feel like he wasn't enough simply because something in me was broken or defective or whatever.

  So I said nothing as he cleaned me up and put me under the covers. I said nothing as he climbed in behind me and wrapped his arms around me, letting me take my time coming down, giving me – always – what I needed.

  Chapter Eight

  Xavier

  I managed to run myself exhausted and elected to spend another day in the hotel instead of going back to the base. Zed and I usually checked in with each other while we were on leave, sort of a buddy system kind of thing. He was still with Nance's roommate and based on the short text I got back in response, they weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

  I didn't go anywhere either. I just laid in bed and watched television. There were plenty of good movies I hadn't seen.

  Well, there were movies in general. I wasn't sure if I'd call them good or not.

  I spent all of Sunday night tossing and turning until I finally got fed up. I dressed and headed back out. I wandered around the city as the sun came up and wondered what the hell I was going to do. Most soldiers liked to use their leave to either visit family or get wasted and fuck.

  I'd already gotten laid, and I probably could've found another willing partner or two...for a moment, the thought distracted me. I mean, there were very few red-blooded men who could say that the idea of a threesome with two gorgeous women wasn't distracting, at least for a couple minutes.

  I passed by a tequila bar, but I didn't think spending the day hammered was the best way to go. I'd heard some of the guys planning to go to one of the amusement parks, but I'd never been a big fan of crowds, and I considered my job more than enough when it came to adrenaline.

  Then I heard something else. Music. And not just any music. Jazz music. Good jazz.

  I stopped and hefted my bag higher onto my shoulder. It wasn't that I didn't have access to music in the barracks, but it had been a long time since I'd been able to hear it live. Most of the guys I spent time with were like Zed and liked rock, or they were like the good old boy who'd been talking to me a couple days ago and leaned toward the country side of things. I liked both well enough, more than some other genres, more than silence, but I'd always been partial to jazz.

  And there was just something about hearing it live.

  I headed for the sound. I didn't have anything else to do today and getting to listen to music seemed like a good way to spend my time.

  * * *

  I had to admit, there was something to be said for relaxing while listening to sounds that moved your soul. I'd enjoyed the drinks I'd had the other night, and I'd definitely enjoyed the sex, but this was absolutely the highlight of my leave so far.

  I found myself walking again, walking and thinking about the piano, the trumpet, the way all of the instruments had come together to form that smooth, melodious sound I loved. I played the notes over in my head, trying to commit them all to memory as I walked down the sidewalk. I was only vaguely aware of where I was, registering everything on that subconscious level that all soldiers and people in similar jobs had. Scanning for threats, watching out for any potential problems.

  Then something registered.

  The thin, acrid scent of smoke.

  I blinked, looking around even as my instincts kicked in. Something wasn't right. I could feel it, sense it.

  I heard a scream a few seconds before I found the smoke spiraling into the sky. I couldn't understand what anyone was saying, but I didn't need to. I knew that something bad was going on, and I did the only thing I could.

  I ran toward it.

  At some point during my walk, I'd moved into a part of the city with warehouses and empty factories, and it was a warehouse I was running toward. A warehouse with smoke now billowing from open windows, flames shooting into the sky.

  Fuck.

  I listened for the sirens, looked for the lights, but I didn't hear anything, see anything. Nothing but the people who were all standing around the warehouse and watching it burn.

  I skidded to a stop a few feet away, felt the heat on my face as I listened, tried to hear over the roar of the flames and the chatter of the crowd. My gut clenched as I heard it.

  The sound of a child crying.

  Fuck.

  This was probably the stupidest thing I could do, but I knew I didn't have a choice. In my
head, it was my mother, my sister. I hadn't been able to save them, but there was a chance I could save whoever was inside that building. Even if it was unlikely, I had to try.

  I ran for the door, disregarding the people who were yelling at me that it was too hot, too dangerous. I ignored them. I was in places that were too dangerous all the time. The only difference was that, this time, I was in the States instead of overseas.

  That didn't matter though. I'd sworn to protect the citizens of this country. If that meant from a burning building, then so be it.

  I took a deep breath of fresh air just before jumping through the doorway. I crouched down, squinting against the smoke. My eyes began to water almost immediately, and I blinked rapidly, preferring to have the tears running down my face to clouding my vision. It took me a moment to get my bearings, and I knew that every second counted.

  Then I heard it again, the child. I started to move towards the sound, trying to keep my breathing as shallow as possible. I was going to start coughing in a moment.

  “Shit!” I swore as something hot and burning landed on my arm. I slapped at it, but not before it singed the hair.

  I coughed as soon as I inhaled and I felt my lungs starting to burn. And I couldn't hear the kid anymore.

  “Hey!” I shouted, then coughed. “Hey!”

  For a moment, I was afraid he'd passed out, that I'd never find him or her in this huge place. Then I heard a weak banging, as if whoever it was couldn't get enough air to speak. It didn't matter. I could hear.

  I followed the sound around the corner and saw a small lump on the floor. I rushed over and grabbed it. I didn't bother checking to see if it was a boy or a girl, or even if they were still alive. All that could wait until we got back outside.

  As I turned, I saw another figure on the floor. A bigger one. Adult-sized. The hair looked short, but aside from that, I couldn't tell anything, not even if it was a man or a woman. It didn't matter. The kid had to come first.