I Spy a Naughty Game

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by Jo Davis




  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  About the Author

  Praise for the Novels of Jo Davis

  I Spy a Wicked Sin

  “This well-paced, clever thriller starts off strong and gets better with each chapter. Davis has created a trio of likable characters and one thoroughly nasty villain. You’ll feel the heat emanating from the pages.”

  —Romantic Times (4½ Stars)

  “Hedonism is the name of the game in this first . . . SHADO Agency novel . . . scintillates with one naughty erotic encounter after the next. . . . I’ll be on the hunt to glom up Ms. Davis’s back-list.”

  —Joyfully Reviewed

  “An edgy and intriguing start to Jo Davis’s new series . . . a fast-paced story line as well as enough suspense and spy games to thrill any mystery lover . . . sexy, riveting.”

  —Romance Junkies

  When Alex Was Bad

  “Davis has done it again . . . a passionate, exhilarating book that will definitely keep a reader’s attention. Five hearts!”

  —Night Owl Romance

  “Davis knows her stuff, and she is a brilliant writer when it comes to romantic suspense. When Alex Was Bad had me on the edge of my seat.”

  —Romance Junkies

  “From the first paragraph until the last page, Ms. Davis kept me captivated with her erotic wording and sensual play between the characters. The sex is spicy-hot and the suspense will keep you guessing until the very end. Five cups!”

  —Coffee Time Romance

  “Jo Davis sizzles with her debut erotic novel.”

  —Fallen Angel Reviews

  “For fans of erotic suspense, Davis serves it up smokin’-hot. . . . Tension builds right to the very end, in and out of the bedroom.”

  —Reader to Reader Reviews

  “Wickedly wanton. . . . Take a walk on the wild side and experience an erotic suspense novel not to be missed.”

  —TwoLips Reviews

  Trial by Fire

  “Romantic suspense that has it all: a sizzling firefighter hero, a heroine you’ll love, and a story that crackles and pops with sensuality and action. All I can say is keep the fire extinguisher handy or risk spontaneous combustion!”

  —Linda Castillo, national bestselling author of A Whisper in the Dark

  “Sizzling romantic suspense . . . so hot it singes the pages!”

  —JoAnn Ross, New York Times bestselling author of Breakpoint

  “A five-alarm read . . . riveting, sensual.”

  —Barbara Vey, Publishers Weekly

  “For a poignant and steamy romance with a great dose of suspense, be sure to pick up a copy of Trial by Fire . . . as soon as it hits the bookstores! 5 Bookmarks!”

  —Wild on Books

  “Jo Davis set the trap, baited the hook, and completely reeled me in with Trial by Fire. Heady sexual tension, heartwarming romance, and combustible love scenes just added fuel to the fire. . . . Joyfully recommended!”

  —Joyfully Reviewed

  HEAT

  Published by New American Library, a division of

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,

  New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto,

  Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

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  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:

  80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  First published by Heat, an imprint of New American Library,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  First Printing, September 2010

  Copyright © Jo Davis, 2010

  All rights reserved

  HEAT is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA:

  Davis, Jo.

  I spy a naughty game/Jo Davis.

  p. cm.

  eISBN : 978-1-101-45997-3

  1. Sexual dominance and submission—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3604.A963I33 2010

  813’.6—dc22

  2010019146

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  To Roberta Brown, my fabulous agent, cheerleader, and friend. You were the first industry professional who truly believed, who said to me not just “You can,” but “You will!” . . . and then helped me make it happen. Your faith, hard work, and positive attitude continue to make all the difference to me. Here’s to many more years of toasting our success together.

  Acknowledgments

  As always, thank you to my husband and wonderful teenagers for your support and understanding when I spend way too many hours in front of the computer. I’m not playing Minesweeper—I swear!

  Thank you to my fabulous editor, Tracy Bernstein, for being my biggest fan and mentor. You keep this train on the track, and I’m forever grateful.

  And always to my Foxes, without whom life would be very lonely and dull indeed. I love you guys.

  One

  Blaze Kelly wound through the press of writhing, sweaty bodies. A sea of weekend players wearing enough fucking leather to upholster a fleet of ’57 Chevys. The smarter ones were barely dressed at all—less to peel off when the mercury shot out of control.

  Some were on their knees, eagerly fulfilling the desires of their masters or mistresses. A few of those masters wielded floggers or belts, the slap on supple flesh rewarded by groans of pleasure.

 
A few sipped drinks at their tables and engaged in lively conversation with other Doms—or Dommes, if female—completely ignoring the devoted slaves kneeling at their feet, as was their right.

  Every single one craved the rigid structure of the lifestyle, the rules that dictated every nuance of existence here, and Domination /submission was only a part of that structure. All were here to escape, just for a blessed slice of time, the stark reality that overwhelmed their world outside these safe walls.

  Like me.

  This place made sense when the rest of his personal life had gone to hell and burned. He hadn’t been able to get here fast enough, was desperate to find his center again. To reach for the calm and certainty, the inner power, that made him a master, caused a willing sub to tremble under his touch.

  Then he’d lose himself, connect with one who understood him as much as she understood herself. Or himself. Male or female—the sub’s physical form hardly mattered.

  And he’d forget all about his heart, left broken and bleeding at Emma’s feet. He would.

  “I can’t do this, Blaze. I don’t belong in your world, and you’d never be satisfied in mine.”

  She was wrong about the first point, just too afraid to venture past her boundaries. And she was painfully correct about the second.

  “It’s who I am. Please, baby, give me—us—a chance.”

  “No, it’s not who you are! It’s just a perverted game, and if we meant that much, you could walk away!”

  “You’d ask that of me? To give up a part of my soul?”

  “Hell, yes! You asked me to compromise mine!”

  Impasse. Such a formidable, incredible woman, yet her fear of the unknown and the misunderstood was a twenty-foot steel wall between them.

  And in the end she’d stormed out of his house, tossed him aside like a bag of garbage. At least he hadn’t broken down, not in front of her and not in the couple of days since.

  No, the tears were locked on the inside. Always. Like razor blades scoring his gut.

  Blaze mentally shook himself and vowed to move on. This was his world, and he’d be fucked sideways if he’d let any woman castrate him. In the corner, he spotted Ryan and his new sub-in-training, Caitlin, just the couple he needed to help him accomplish his goal. Spotting Blaze, Ryan waved him over with a grin.

  “My man! What’s up?” Ryan clapped him on the back, gave him a once-over. “Shit, you look like somebody died, my friend.”

  “Close enough. Good to see you, Ry.” His greeting lacked his usual outgoing, drunk-on-life verve, and his normally easy smile fell short of the mark. Damn.

  “Care to talk about it?” His friend flicked a glance to the stunning brunette kneeling at his feet. “In private?”

  “Nope. I’m here for less talk and more action, like the song says.”

  Ryan brightened, taking the reins. “That’s my boy. And lucky you—I’ve got just the right medicine.” Lovingly, he stroked his slave’s hair, his gaze betraying the depth of his feelings for her. Devotion she couldn’t see because her eyes were fixed on the floor in deference to her master.

  “Caitlin’s training is progressing nicely, and I think she’s ready to take two Doms . . . if you’re willing to help me push her to the next level.”

  Blaze studied the woman, a Bond girl look-alike if he’d ever seen one, typical of Ryan’s taste. Long tousled dark hair, a rack worthy of a Penthouse model, legs like a goddess. Too showy, not his preferred type.

  But he appreciated beauty, and no one could argue that Ry’s sub wasn’t a looker. She was also excited, if the hitch in her breathing and the tightening of her rosy nipples peeking over the leather halfbra were any indication. Responsive, ready to please her master.

  “Not that kind of action. I’m not in the mood to play tonight, Ry. I just needed to get out, be among people. Maybe have a drink and watch a scene.”

  Blaze’s cock came slowly to life, lengthening in his leather pants, making a big liar out of him.

  “Bullshit,” Ryan scoffed. “You’re not a languish-on-the-sidelines kind of guy. What gives? It’s that chick you’ve been seeing. Emma, right?”

  “Let’s drop it.”

  Ryan rolled his eyes, ignoring the warning in his voice. “I knew it. Damn, for a woman who’s got the butch vibe down to perfection, Emma’s so vanilla, she makes my sainted granny seem like a ten-dollar hooker. What do you see in her?”

  “You’ve only met Emma once, so your conclusions are hardly accurate or fair. Not another word about her, my friend, or you’ll be eating soup through a straw for the next six weeks.”

  “And you’ll smile cheerfully while bashing in my face,” Ryan said, unfazed. “You’re a crazy sonofabitch, you know that?”

  “So I’ve heard.” This was Ry’s way of backing off the subject, and Blaze began to relax.

  “Then there’s no reason for you to sit here like a whipped puppy. Come on.” His friend scooted out from behind the table and tapped his sub’s shoulder.

  “Where to?” Blaze asked.

  “Do you really have to ask?”

  He supposed not. His blood fired as he rose and accompanied Ryan to the back, down a hallway to one of the private rooms used for scenes, the sub following close behind. Once they were inside, he closed the door and removed his jacket, draped it over the back of a nearby chair, and waited. This was Ryan’s show.

  His friend wasted no time in preparing her. “Remove your clothes.”

  Shooting Blaze a nervous glance, she did, starting with the tiny leather bra. She unhooked the garment, slid it off her shoulders, and allowed the scrap to fall to the floor. Her breasts were full and high, a bit too perfectly symmetrical. Perhaps surgically enhanced, Blaze mused, but nice.

  Her skirt went next, revealing nothing underneath but toned bare skin. The patch between her thighs was trimmed into a neat triangle, and Blaze could only imagine the soft, wet heat at its center. His cock surged, demanding to know for certain. She stood still, eyes downcast, theirs for the taking.

  Ryan moved behind her, ran his palms up her sides to her breasts. Pinched and rolled her nipples, evoking a gasp from his lovely sub. “Spread your legs, my love.”

  As she complied, her master slid one hand down her flat stomach to the dark triangle. Parted her pussy lips and delved his fingers into her, caressing. “So hot and wet for me and Blaze, aren’t you, pet?”

  “Yes, master,” she agreed in a husky voice, leaning back into Ryan.

  “You’re going to do as I say, and as a reward, we’ll make you fly. Understand?”

  “Oh, yes, sir!” She opened for him a bit more, melting in his hands.

  “Very good.” Ryan reached into the front pocket of his black dress shirt and removed a pair of nipple clamps on a delicate silver chain. “Need a little pain, baby?”

  “Please, master.”

  The poor woman was nearly insensate with need as Ryan clamped one pert nipple, then the other. He gave the chain a tug, clearly pleased at her tortured moan. His lips curved upward in a smile as he looked at Blaze.

  “Would you like to taste her, my friend?”

  “God, yes.”

  The beautiful sub wasn’t the only one needing. Blaze stalked her, hungry. His troubles were forgotten for the moment, his desires demanding to be fed. He knelt between her legs and nuzzled her neat bush, tested the mound hiding beneath with his tongue, and was pleased to find her pussy bare. Slick and damp.

  Whimpering, she widened her stance even more as he licked her slit. Burrowed his tongue between her pussy lips and tasted her essence. He ate her, barely aware of Ryan ordering her not to come until he gave her permission. Lord, she was sweet, so sensitive that he didn’t want to stop.

  But he finally drew away, not wanting to push her over the edge and cause her to be punished. “Delicious,” he praised, kissing her hip. He rose to his feet to see that Ryan had already undressed while he’d been occupied with tasting Caitlin.

  Blaze followed suit, quickly sheddin
g his clothing while his friend grabbed a spreader bar from a nearby table.

  “On your knees,” Ryan commanded her.

  She knelt and Ryan went to work, spreading her legs and fastening cuffs at each end to her ankles. Next, he secured her wrists behind her back with a pair of padded handcuffs and positioned himself behind her, hands on her ass.

  “Is the butt plug driving you insane, pretty baby?” Ryan asked.

  “Yes, master,” she whined, wiggling her bottom in search of relief. So needy.

  “Excellent. I’m going to torment you, pump it in and out of your tight ass while you suck our friend. And no coming,” he warned.

  “No, sir, I won’t!”

  Ryan nodded at Blaze, who didn’t need to be invited twice. Blaze stepped up to the bound sub and brought the head of his leaking cock to her lips. She gave the mushroom tip an experimental lick, swiping away the pearly bead. Then she swooped in, bathing his turgid, heated flesh with her clever tongue.

  “Fuck yes,” he groaned. “Suck me, darlin’.”

  She deep-throated him like a pro. Sucking in a sharp breath, he buried a hand in her silky dark hair, fucked her mouth at his leisure. Slow and deep, down her throat. She wasn’t Emma—no woman could ever match her—but she was good, and he shoved his pain aside. Lost himself in pleasure, his balls tightening. She moaned around him, making his cock hum, and he noted Ryan’s arm moving behind her in tandem with their motions. Tormenting his sub with the plug as promised.

 

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