by Jillian Boyd
Holding out the thumb drive to him, she said, “Go online and look up the Miami division of the FBI. Call the number on their website and ask for my boss, Jack Callahan. Say you’re calling on my behalf and that it’s extremely important. When you talk to him, tell him, ‘Jezebel is too hot and had to improvise, but I have what you need.’ Those words exactly. Follow his instructions to the letter and give him this. That should prove to you that I am an agent.”
Seeing Rissa - and her sexy getup - with new eyes, Nick felt a lead weight settle on his gut. “What exactly are you undercover as?”
The corner of her mouth turned up. “A pain management therapist.”
“What kind of therapist goes around with a whip, looking like that?” he asked, indicating to her outfit.
“The kind who’s really a dominatrix for people who don’t want anyone to know they get off on being used and abused.”
Nick remembered what she said earlier. “Is this the part of your job you don’t love?”
She looked down. “Something like that.”
“Why can’t you call your boss and have someone pick you up?”
“Until we know the information we need is on that stick, I can’t risk blowing my cover. I might have to go back in.”
Nick didn’t like the idea of Rissa associating with whatever scumbag attracted the attention of the FBI - especially not in such an intimate way. But it wasn’t his call, and she wouldn’t be an agent without being sufficiently trained.
“Okay, I’ll give this to your boss,” he said, taking the flash drive and putting it in his pocket. “What are you going to do about the guy following you?”
“Keep pretending I don’t know he’s there and go about my business,” she said with a shrug.
Rissa went back to the window, carefully peeked between the blinds, and then quickly pulled away. “Damn!”
“What?”
“He’s right outside. Talking on his phone.” Rissa chewed on her lower lip. “I hate to do this, but I’ll have to make it sound like I’m with a client. I told Enrique I had to leave for another appointment and there’s no other good reason I should be in a library.”
Nick gave her a long look. “And how do you propose to do that?”
“I’m going to have to spank you.”
‘Hell no!’
Rissa looked around the room and sighed. “There isn’t anything here that I can use to fake the sound of smacking flesh.”
He nodded at her bag. “What about that?”
“It’ll sound like I’m smacking a chair or something,” Rissa said, then pulled her shoulders back. “I promise it won’t be a big deal. I’m sure a big guy like you can take it.”
“I have a better idea,” Nick said, suddenly inspired. “Why don’t I spank you?”
***
Rissa had known Nick most of her life. They’d grown up down the street from each other and had been close friends as children. Even though they drifted apart as adolescents, she still saw him at school, often in the same classes, and she thought she knew him pretty well.
But now, Nick’s eyes gleamed in a way Rissa had never seen before. It was distinctly predatory. Her heart rate picked up and a delicious warmth unfurled in her belly. Rissa knew she was supposed to tell him to fuck off - henchman or no - but she still felt safe with him and she knew he wouldn’t harm her.
“Ah...how would we make it sound like I was doing the spanking?”
“Simple. Every time I spank you, I’ll call out, ‘Thank you, Mistress, may I have another.’ He’ll assume I’m the spankee.” He frowned. “I just hope he’s the only one listening out there.”
Rissa couldn’t argue with his logic. He had her backed into a nice little corner. She couldn’t refuse to do something she’d asked him to do - especially since it was her case. An FBI agent shouldn’t shirk her duty or avoid taking one for the team.
Then something occurred to Rissa. “You seem very knowledgeable about all this.”
Nick grinned. “It’s amazing what you learn when you read a lot.”
She suspected he didn’t just know things, but had also done things - very, very naughty things.
“What’s it going to be, Rissa?”
Her mouth was suddenly dry. “Okay. Fine.”
Nick’s demeanour immediately changed. His smile vanished. His back straightened. And his electric blue eyes bored into hers like lasers. “Bend over the desk.”
The surprisingly roomy office now felt small and tight - dwarfed by his mere presence. Nick had never seemed so powerful or imposing. It should have scared her. Instead it called to something deep inside her she’d never recognized before. The warmth he ignited quickly spread throughout her body, her heart pounded, and her breathing quickened.
Like walking through water, Rissa moved to the desk and faced a wall displaying certificates and a couple of diplomas from Florida State. The dark, wooden desk was as neat and uncluttered as the rest of the office. She carefully pushed aside a nameplate from the front of the desk, then leaned over and grabbed the edge.
The air became ionized as Nick approached her. His pant leg brushed against her thigh. Placing his hand next to hers, he leaned down until his breath tickled her ear. “All the way over. On your elbows.”
Nick hadn’t even touched her yet and moisture was already gathering between her thighs. Rissa did what he said, supporting herself with her forearms, her breasts brushing the desktop. She knew she made quite a sight - backside front and centre, her skirt barely covering it, her legs slightly apart to maintain her balance.
Rissa jumped a bit when Nick’s finger made contact with the back of her thigh. It was a flame licking her skin as it travelled upwards from the edge of her stocking to the hem of her skirt. His body closed in on hers, his chest touching her back.
“This skirt is very short,” he said softly in her ear. “But it’ll have to come up if you want the right sound.”
Was she doing this to preserve her cover? Or to see how far it went and where he’d lead her? She didn’t know anymore. Nor did she care at the moment.
“Okay,” she said, her voice raspy.
Nick eased the skirt up over her hips and tucked the edge into her waistband. Cool air washed over her as he pulled away and she knew Nick was looking at her. Her thong didn’t offer much coverage; she was completely exposed and vulnerable. Rissa would have thought she’d feel humiliated being bent over a desk bare-assed, but she wasn’t. The increasing wetness seeping from her pussy was evidence of her excitement.
Nick groaned and bent back over her. “Your ass is magnificent, Rissa.”
His hand lightly stroked a cheek, circling and circling. Nick pushed his groin into the side of her hip, letting her feel his obvious erection. His arousal only fed her own, until she was almost panting in anticipation. With every quick breath, she drew in his inebriating scent. It wasn’t cologne, but a subtle citrus fragrance - aftershave, maybe - and the heady essence of Nick.
“I’ve dreamt about having you bent over and completely at my mercy,” he whispered and squeezed her ass cheek.
Rissa couldn’t take the wait anymore. “Just do it!”
“Let me know when you’ve had enough,” he said and pulled away again.
The first smack wasn’t what Rissa expected. It didn’t hurt exactly; it stung. Every time his hand came down on her flesh, jolts of pleasure went straight to her clit, the intensity building and building. Nick spread the strikes around, first one cheek, then the other, higher, then lower, heating her skin until it burned.
She’d only been spanked once as a kid and that was enough to never want another. But now, with Nick, she was discovering what she didn’t think possible. She liked it. No, she loved it. Rissa suspected he was taking it easy on her, but each slap produced a satisfactory smacking so
und that reverberated throughout the room - and made her cunt tighten.
She bit her lip to stop from moaning, from crying out, and destroying the illusion. Nick’s voice got huskier as he continued calling out, but she barely noticed over the thundering of her own pulse in her ears.
Rissa was going to come; she knew it. Part of her just wanted to let it happen, to give up control completely. But she couldn’t. Not then. Not there. Not while they had an audience.
“Enough!”
Nick stopped instantly. Rissa stayed as she was for a moment, trying to compose herself, to calm her breathing. She felt Nick pull her skirt down over her throbbing backside. His body came over hers again and his lips brushed the back of her neck. Then he was gone, and she missed his closeness.
Rissa pushed herself up, stood facing the desk, and made sure her clothes were in place. Remembering her bag, she looked around for it. When she saw it, she bent down, stuffed the whip back inside, then straightened and pulled it over her shoulder.
Finally, Rissa faced Nick, but didn’t make eye contact. She wasn’t ashamed, but she was afraid if their eyes met, she’d beg him to fuck her - and it wasn’t the time or place for that.
Nick took the option away from her by lifting her chin with his finger. His brow was creased and he looked at her intently.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
Rissa gave him a slight smile. “Yeah.”
He moved closer and stroked her cheek. “I want more of you.”
She just absorbed his sincerity for a moment, then said, “Me, too.”
Pulling away, Rissa said in a loud voice, “Now, you be a good boy or it’ll be worse next time.”
“Yes, Mistress!”
She was about to open the office door when he grabbed her wrist. “Rissa.”
“What?”
“Be careful.”
***
Rissa moaned as she lowered her sore, tired body into the steamy bath. She was too exhausted to even wash her hair, so she wrapped the ponytail up into a messy bun. It was bad enough that she had to dye her hair blonde to fit Enrique’s ‘type’, but she also had to put in extra-long extensions. Her normal hair was a more reasonable, lower maintenance length.
Leaning back, she rested her head on the ledge of the tub and closed her eyes. Who knew running around Miami in ridiculous heels, whipping a horny criminal, and being spanked herself could be so draining?
She hadn’t liked the idea of this assignment - neither had Jack. Although he was her boss and he trusted her abilities, Jack was also a long-time family friend and a surrogate uncle of sorts. He tended to be overprotective where she was concerned. But her going undercover was their only way to learn about Enrique’s criminal dealings.
An informant had tipped them off, but couldn’t - or wouldn’t - give specifics. When they found out Enrique kept all his records on a secure computer in his office, the techies came up with the thumb drive. It was supposed to copy everything on his hard drive without leaving a trace. They only needed a way in.
Then they discovered that Enrique engaged ‘therapists’. After some convincing, the domme running the ‘pain management clinic’ agreed to help, even giving Rissa a couple of lessons. Rissa was just glad she got lucky. Her first session with him and he invited her into his office. It was almost too easy to distract him while she used the thumb drive. Coincidentally, she whipped him while he was bent over his computer desk.
There was a vast difference between that experience and the incident in Nick’s office. Her backside was tender, but pleasantly so. She was still trying to reconcile her feelings, but one thing was clear. Nick spanking her and the idea of submitting to him really turned her on. Rissa’s cunt ached just thinking about it.
Before she could tend to the throbbing between her legs, Rissa heard knocking on the apartment door. She sat up so fast some water splashed out of the tub. Only two people knew about her undercover apartment - Jack and Enrique’s bloodhound. She didn’t think it would be Jack, so that only left one other option.
Rissa quickly got out of the tub, put on a terrycloth robe, then grabbed her small, easy-to-conceal semiautomatic and stuffed it into her pocket. When she got to the door, she checked the peephole and was surprised to see Nick.
She removed the security chain, opened the door, and pulled Nick inside. Rissa checked the hallway to see if anyone was watching, then closed and locked the door.
“What are you doing here? You might’ve been seen.”
Nick held up a key. “Your boss gave me a key to the service entrance off the back alley.”
“Just like that?”
“Oh no, I was thoroughly vetted first.” Nick chuckled. “Interesting man, your boss.”
“He’s a teddy bear under all that gruffness,” Rissa said with a smile. “Why did he send you?”
Nick shrugged. “Since I’ve already been seen with you as a client, he thought it wouldn’t hurt your cover.”
Rissa thought Jack was up to something. “What else did he say?”
“He filled me in on your assignment, and said you should call him when you have a chance.”
“Make yourself at home while I call him.”
In the bedroom, she retrieved the secure cell phone from a hidden compartment behind a mirror in the walk-in closet. Jack picked up on the second ring.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Enrique Perez isn’t a terrorist, nor is he laundering money for drug cartels. He’s into human trafficking,” Jack said in his gravelly, ex-smoker’s voice.
It made Rissa’s skin crawl knowing she’d been in such close contact with the slimeball. “So everything we needed was on the thumb drive?”
“Yeah, apparently he runs brothels here, New York, and LA. There’s a shipment of girls coming into the Port of Miami tomorrow morning. We’re getting all the warrants and organizing with the other agencies to raid all the locations then, so none of the bastards get away.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Sit tight. Until Perez is in custody, I want you to maintain your cover.”
“But this is my case!” Rissa took a deep breath. “I want to be there when he’s arrested.”
“If he gets away, we might need you to lure him in.”
That might’ve been a valid reason, but then again-”Are you playing matchmaker, Jack? Or trying to keep me out of a potential firefight?”
“Nick’s a good man and you need a life, Marissa. Get one. We’ve got it covered.” And then he hung up on her.
Rissa glared at the phone, then put it back - and her gun too. Nick must’ve really impressed Jack for him to interfere like that.
When she returned to the living room, Nick was coming out of the kitchen with a couple glasses of white wine. He looked unreasonably good in just khakis and a plain white shirt.
Handing her a glass, he said, “I found a bottle in the kitchen and thought you might like some.”
“Thank you.” She took a sip, enjoying the cool fruity crispness.
“What did Callahan say?”
“Let’s sit down,” Rissa said, motioning to the modern, sterile-looking sitting area. “My feet are killing me.”
She made herself comfortable on the white leather sofa and Nick took a seat on the matching ottoman in front of her.
Rissa relayed everything she’d learned from Jack - except the part about her needing a life. It was true, though. She hadn’t had a date in ages, and sex was a distant memory. When guys heard she carried a badge and gun, they either ran for the hills or made lewd suggestions about her handcuffing them. Rissa wasn’t against being kinky; she just didn’t get off on restraining men. Until that afternoon, it never occurred to her that she might like being the one in handcuffs.
Nick put their gl
asses on the end table, then reached down and took her foot in his hands.
“What are you doing?”
Smiling, Nick began kneading her instep. “You said your feet were hurting.”
Letting her head fall back against the sofa, Rissa closed her eyes and moaned as his strong, talented fingers worked their magic.
“How’s your backside?”
Rissa looked up at him. All the heat and anticipation from that afternoon came rushing back. “Sore. But in a good way.”
The corner of Nick’s mouth turned up, his blue eyes burning. “I enjoyed it too.”
“I noticed. When did you know you were...”
“Dominant?” he finished, and began on the other foot. “I had urges in high school, but I didn’t really know what it meant until college.”
“Did you really fantasize about having me bent over and at your mercy?”
“Oh yeah,” he said, his hands now caressing her ankle. “And spanking you too. Reality was a hell of a lot better. I just wish I got to finish what I started.”
She worried her lip for a moment, her body vibrating with need, then said, “Me too.”
“Callahan gave me something else with that key.” Nick held her foot against his groin as he pulled a foil packet out of his pocket and placed it on the ottoman.
“That was inappropriately thoughtful of him,” she said, curling her toes around his burgeoning erection.
“Wasn’t it?” He rocked his hips, pressing himself into her foot, letting her feel him getting longer and harder. “Untie the robe, Rissa.”
It wasn’t a suggestion; it was an order. But eager to play along, Rissa didn’t hesitate to comply, letting the robe fall open enough to see she was naked underneath. Her skin felt flushed and she squirmed in her seat. Suddenly, she wasn’t tired anymore.
“Wider,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt.
Rissa pulled the front apart a little more, showing him her neatly trimmed pussy, but kept her breasts covered.
He yanked off his shirt and threw it aside. “All the way.”
Admiring his toned but not overly muscled body, Rissa eased the fabric over her tits, completely exposing herself. Her nipples were taut and her juices were sliding between her lower lips.