WINDY CITY: The complete series

by Stone, Measha

  Jessica had landed her happily-ever-after without much attempt on her part. In fact, she had fought kicking and screaming almost the entire way.

  Kelly tried not to think about her best friend's love life. Envying what someone else had didn’t get her any closer to what she wanted. At the moment, that meant spending the evening having fun. She’d settle for some hot dancing, a decent conversation, and call it a successful evening.

  Getting to the bar seemed the easiest task of the evening. Getting the bartender's attention was another issue altogether. She flashed her brightest smile, flung her red locks over her shoulder, and thrust out her chest. Nothing. In a last attempt, she leaned against the sticky bar, keeping an eye on her target.

  He stood only a few feet away, sipping his beer. Most guys got their drinks and headed back to their groups. She took this as a sign he’d come here alone.

  A long curl fell into her view, blocking the man before her. With a huff, she shoved it back behind her ear, annoyed with her choice of leaving the unruly mess loose. During this tug of war with her hair, her possible future boyfriend slid down the bar in her direction.

  She made another attempt to call the bartender.

  "Need a drink?" Her mark slid closer.

  She nodded and bit her lip, playing into his male ego.

  "What's your poison?"

  She chose to ignore the cheesy line, concentrating on picking her drink. She didn't like alcohol because she couldn't hold it well, but she feared ordering a coke would appear prudish at best.

  "Captain and coke." She hoped it would be the least offending in taste. If she let it sit long enough, perhaps the liquor would sink to the bottom.

  He turned away from her to bark out the order. His cologne wafted over her. The cheap, stuffy aftershave reminded her of her grandfather, and she held her breath—not an image she wanted.

  "Here you go." When he smiled, his chin split, leaving a divot in the middle, kind of like having a tiny butt on his face. "My name's Ted, by the way."

  Her shoulders dropped, and she thanked him for the drink. He placed a heavy hand on the small of her back and led her to a table near the dancefloor. She sipped at the offending drink, trying to act enthralled by his storytelling. Thankfully, the music washed away his words, so she stuck to quietly agreeing and smiling.

  She nodded herself right into being escorted out of the club with his arm around her shoulders. A glance at her watch confirmed it was past midnight. She decided to let him lead her from the club, then ditch him at the cab.

  Another night wasted. Even if she did find Mr. Right, he was more likely to be Mr. Right Now, and Mr. Wrong tomorrow. None of the men she'd seen in the club even fit the strong, confident man she sought.

  "Wait here." He left her in front of the entrance while he walked over to a guy who looked ten years younger than her.

  She took the opportunity to wave down a cab and make her escape. He made his way back as a car pulled up. "You're leaving?" His face twisted into a mixture of astonishment and disappointment.

  "Yeah, sorry, I have a busy day tomorrow—"

  "Okay, that's cool." She worried his head would be injured from his massive shrug. "My buddy just told me about a party. You wouldn't be interested anyway." He opened the door to the cab.

  "Why?" She rested a hand on her hip. After all, who was blowing off who?

  "It's an S and M party. Not your thing." He dragged his gaze up and down her body.

  She put a hand out to hold the door. "S and M, like BDSM?" The man had finally said something interesting. Her heart hammered with excitement at the prospect before her. She glanced at her watch once more, willing it to go in reverse. Her nine o'clock chem class would be hard enough to get through at this point. If she stayed out any later, she might not get there at all.

  "Yeah,” he answered. "You play?” The tenor of his voice raised a few decibels.

  The car horn blared.

  "Well, no, not really. I've never been, but…well, would you mind if I tagged along?" she asked.

  The cabbie yelled for her to either get in or close the door. Answering for her, the stud shut the door.

  "Not at all. C'mon. My car’s this way."

  She shook her head and pounded on the car before he took off.

  "How about I meet you there?" She hadn't left all common sense at home.

  He studied her cautiously for a moment, then reopened the door to the cab. She slipped in, and he stuck his head in the front window, giving the address to the cabbie, who waved him off and peeled away from the curb.

  The taxi dropped her in front of a quiet, average looking bungalow. The soft yellow porchlight gave the front of the house a somber appearance. Inside, several shadowed forms passed by the front windows. She pulled out her phone, debating on calling Alex to come pick her up. He was probably still out…or at least willing to help her when she found herself in another stupid situation.

  She could already hear Jessica and Erin's voices as they lectured her on the safety of clubbing alone. Knowing they would be completely right, she decided to text Alex and let him know where she could be found. Plus, she felt a little guilty leaving him behind at the club.

  A car sped down the street and pulled up to the curb right in front of her, distracting her from her task. Her escort leaped out of the car.

  "Good, you made it!" Ted smiled as he pressed the button on his keys, the car chirping in response. He flung his dense arm over her shoulders and led her up the stairs to the door. Seeming to be in a hurry, he didn't give her a chance to ask any of the questions she had about where they were.

  The door opened as they stepped onto the porch. A man wearing a black polo shirt with a clipboard greeted them.

  Ted slapped his hand in a hearty handshake and introduced her as his girl. The man made a few marks on his board and stepped out of their way.

  Once inside, low growls and yelps came from beneath her feet. The floor vibrated, and the scent of burning wax filled the air. The living room was void of anything other than the usual furniture. The dining room was much the same way.

  Ted brought her to a door in the kitchen and paused with his hand on the doorknob, glancing back over his broad shoulder at her.

  "Stick with me, don't put your eyes on anyone else and do as I say." His voice thickened as he spoke. His hand tightened on her arm as he flung the door open and half-shoved her onto the dark stairwell.

  Her hands groped the wall for a railing, but found none. A bright strobe light messed with her depth perception, and she stumbled down the last two steps. Ted caught her before she face-planted onto the sticky floor. The music played too loudly for her to hear her shoes peeling from tiles, but she felt every bit of it with each step she took.

  Cries and leather snapping crowded her senses. She tried to gather her bearings, tried to make sense of her surroundings, but too many movements made it hard for her to capture the full picture. The dark walls and flooring made it hard to see. Strobe lights and white Christmas lights strung over pieces of equipment were the only lighting in the room.

  The equipment mimicked torture devices she'd seen in history books. Several women and men were tied to oversized wooden X's or bent over benches, most of them naked. Others stood behind them with thick whips, paddles, and floggers, administering harsh beatings received by cries of pain.

  A large hand wrapped around her upper arm and pulled her to another part of the room with oversized pillows splayed across the floor.

  "Stay here." He shoved her down onto one of the pillows.

  She sank into it and continued to survey the party.

  A woman knelt beside her. Her black corset projected her naked breasts outward, and a thick leather collar held her head upright. She folded her hands behind her back, appearing content with her position. Her smile held a blissful quality as a man dressed in jeans and a leather vest bent down to rub his hand along her jaw.

  "Here." Ted thrust a glass into her hand. "Coke," he explained, do
wning his own drink while sinking onto the pillow beside her.

  She sniffed the brown liquid for alcohol. There appeared to be none. She gulped it down, keeping her eyes on the goings-on around her. The women being led around on chain leashes appeared happier than most women walking down the street holding a man's hand. The music paused for a moment, then started back up again. The strobe lights flickered on and off, but no one seemed to take notice.

  "Have you ever been spanked?" he asked, leaning into her. His cheap aftershave made her stomach turn.

  "Uh. No." She shook her head. In truth, she hadn't—not outside of her fantasies anyway. The images of a strong man tossing her over his knee, yanking up her skirt, tearing down her panties, and delivering hard smacks to her bottom until it popped with color and tears covered her face brought her to many peaks in her alone time play.

  "Wanna give it a try?" His eyebrows shot up, and his lips curled into a grin.

  The music skipped a few beats. Her eyelids drooped, and her lips tingled.

  "Try what?" She scratched her elbow, then her neck.

  "I wanna spank the shit outta you. Your ass is perfect for it." He winked.

  She managed to laugh, although she was unsure if it was humor or nerves.

  "Now, I really want to." Ted's face started to change. His lips tightened around his teeth, seeming excessively white from the black lighting in the room. His eyes turned cold, and he grabbed her again, harsher than before, yanking her to her feet.

  She stumbled as he towed her through the room. Her head swam as she tried to focus her eyes. When she tried to speak, her lips went numb. Her feeble attempt to free herself was met with laughter as he dragged her to a bench.

  Moist leather pressed against her face as she was slammed over it. She attempted to kick out her legs, but he gripped her ankles. Cold metal clicked around her ankles, then her wrists.

  The strobe lighting flickered again. The music paused, then started. Her head was spinning. He yanked her skirt over her ass and grabbed her panties. A chilled air rushed over her as her bottom was bared. She wiggled with little effect. Her vision blurred to the point of uselessness. All attempts to focus her mind failed.

  Laughter and cries surrounded her. Hands groped her ass, spreading her cheeks. She pulled on her restraints, but her hands wouldn’t move. She was trapped. She opened her mouth to scream, but her voice was gone.

  The hands left, and she tried to focus on the loud voices behind her. Music slowed. She glanced over her shoulder, but saw nothing. A smacking sound vibrated in her mind. Darkness crept over her sight, and the leather of the bench became soft as she closed her eyes and drifted away.

  Chapter 2

  Kendrick Brooks sat at his kitchen table with a bag of ice perched on top of his right hand. The last punch to the asshole's face had busted open the skin on three of his fingers, and his knuckles were swollen and bruised. As much as his fist hurt, and as annoyed as he was with the prospect of having to go into the station to deal with the bastard, there was a much bigger issue at hand: the naked woman asleep in his bed.

  He should've called an ambulance and had her carted off to the hospital instead of carrying her back to his condo and letting her sleep off whatever the asshole had slipped her. The night had been full of a lot of "should haves."

  He should've told Derek no when he called him last minute to provide security at one of his house dungeon parties. Derek was a great guy, but horrible at keeping his parties in check. He should have kicked Ted out the moment he saw the jerk step off the stairs into the main room—they'd met before, and Kendrick wasn’t a fan. He should have kept a closer eye on him before he was able to get a drink for the girl.

  The redhead appeared too vanilla to be sauntering into one of Derek's dens. The expression in her eyes when she found the source behind the snapping leather spoke of her ignorance, but the exhilaration in her eyes when they lingered on the scenes touched on her curiosity. She hadn't ran from the room screaming or looked around at the players with judgment. She simply drank in the sights and sounds.

  After calling upstairs to let the doorman know the party had reached capacity, Kendrick went in search of Ted. He found him leading the innocent redhead toward the spanking benches. Her eyes were no longer enthused; they were glossed and dazed. Her lips sagged, and her feet barely moved on their own.

  The argument went quickly. With two shots to Ted's face, he was down. Derek pleaded with Kendrick not to make a spectacle, and they agreed he'd take the lady for help and drop the asshole at the police station on his way.

  "Hello?" His patient was up.

  Kendrick slipped the bag of ice off his knuckles and left it to melt on the table. She was sure to be startled out of her mind, waking up in a strange place.

  He found her sitting up in his bed, the sheet covering her breasts. Her hair, a mangled mess the night before, was no better this morning. The idea of winding the mass of curls around his fist made his heart race. He coughed to shake the image from his mind.

  She eyed him with caution, narrowing her eyes at the bright sun invading the room.

  He moved to close the blinds. "Sorry. Sun shines right on the pillows." He turned back to her.

  She massaged her temples. "Um…" She looked him over with searching eyes, probably trying to place him. "This has never happened before." She groaned, rubbing both sides of her head with her fingers.

  "I should hope not." He gave a weak smile.

  Her face flushed a subdued pink. "I don't remember your name," she breathed out, hugging her knees to her chest.

  "Why would you? I never gave it." He walked around the bed and sat beside her. The +back of his hand touched her chilled forehead. "Good. No fever."

  "Do you typically give women fevers after fucking them?" Her words were brazen, but her eyes never met his.

  "What exactly do you remember from last night?" He crossed his arms over his chest, a habit from previous work.

  "I went to the bar. Saw Alex, brushed him off. Met Ted." She scrunched her lips together and moved them to one side of her face as she tried to remember more. "I remember getting in a cab and going inside a house. Wax—I smelled wax." She closed her eyes then opened them with memory.

  "Oh!" She scooted back on the bed, away from him. "Ted. He was going to—" Her hands flew to cover her mouth.

  Her eyes swept up to him, and she dropped her hands. "Who are you!" she demanded.

  "Calm down." Kendrick got to his feet, sensing she was about to pounce at any moment, claws drawn. "My name is Kendrick. I was working security at the party. Ted didn't hurt you. He was stopped before he could, but he slipped something into your drink," he explained methodically.

  "I was drugged." She sounded more annoyed than worried by the idea. "That fucker drugged me." She punched the mattress.

  Kendrick let a grin escape his stony expression. She had spunk. He liked it.

  "Why didn't you take me to a hospital? Shouldn't you have called the real police?" Her gaze shot anger through him.

  He held his hands up to ward off her temper. "Ted's in lockup. They are holding him until you decide if you want to press charges. I didn't take you to the hospital because you just needed to sleep it off, and…well…" he paused, knowing there was no good reason for him to have taken her home, “I'll be honest, Derek didn't want an ambulance at the house, and I went along with it."

  "Derek?" Her lips thinned.

  "A friend. It was his house party." Kendrick stepped toward her again. "I should have taken you to the emergency room. But you weren't harmed, you slept it off, and you were safe here. I'll take you to the precinct if you want to press charges."

  "I'm naked," she accused.

  "Not my doing." He put his hands in the air again. "You were mostly out of it when we got here, but you saw the bed and stripped down before diving under the covers." He remembered these actions vividly. His heart pounded in his chest.

  She had shimmied her way out of her skirt, wiggling her bottom unt
il it dropped to her ankles from where she kicked it across the room, smacking him in the chest with it before it landed on the floor. She giggled as she pulled her shirt free from her body and played with the hooks of her bra, dancing around on one foot. He would have offered to help, but he’d enjoyed the scene too much. Finally, the hooks cooperated, and she slid the straps down her arms. Each breast popped free of the cups, her dark pink areolas pert from the chill in the room. Her breasts would fill his hands, if not more. Her bra landed on his shoulder, breaking his trance. Her panties were rolled over her hips and down her legs, exposing her round bottom. He had seen her ass at the dungeon, but his main concern had been her safety. This time, he allowed himself to drink her in.

  "Oh." She released a long sigh, leaning back against the headboard, then stared at him, sizing him up. "Oh no!" She sat up straight. "What time is it? I had a class at nine. Where's my phone?" She looked around wildly.

  He reached over her, letting his shoulder brush hers, and picked up her phone from the nightstand and handed it to her.

  "Thanks," she said softly.

  "It's eleven o'clock. A text came in a few hours ago asking where you were. I assumed it was a co-worker or boss, so I answered for you." He stood from the bed and collected her clothing from the dresser.

  "Who are you again?" she asked after checking her phone.

  "Kendrick," he replied, placing the pile of clothes on her lap. "Here are your clothes. If you want to shower, the bathroom is right through that door. I'll make some breakfast while you're getting cleaned up. After you eat, I can take you to the station." He eyed her closely.

  She put up a brave front, but something in her eyes told a different tale. Defeat. As though she'd been reaching for something only to have it slip right out of her grasp.

  "Thanks," she said softly.

  He stole another glance as he made his way from the room. She slipped from the bed, leaving all the covers behind, exposing a diamond-shaped beauty mark on the inside of her left thigh. Cute, unexpected—much like the rest of her.