Natalie Acres

by Sex Slave [Cowboy Sex 7]

  “Yes, it is,” he agreed, a touch of cruelty in his voice. “And you can bet your sweet ass Kimberly would be here now if you had taken the time to talk to me or Wyatt about your experiences with Vince Littleton. If you’d needed the money that desperately, hell, I would’ve spotted you a loan.”

  Cherie gasped. “I’m…I’m sorry, Sebastian.”

  “Pointing fingers won’t solve the problem,” Jaelon called after him as Sebastian stomped upstairs.

  Wyatt squeezed Cherie’s arm in passing. “Get some sleep, Cherie. The state police will be looking for Littleton’s car tonight. We’ll call the Cartwells in the morning.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Cherie whispered, covering her mouth. “She’s the one, isn’t she? I mean, I thought she was the one, but I couldn’t be sure. Now, looking at your faces, seeing Sebastian so distraught, it explains everything.”

  Wyatt stopped at the bottom of the steps. He slowly turned to face her. His gaze shifted to Jaelon, who had always known.

  “Yes, Cherie, she’s always been the one,” Wyatt said.

  She fell into Jaelon’s arms and Wyatt went upstairs. Sebastian would undoubtedly want to place blame at his feet as well. Wyatt was fully prepared to accept his portion.

  Entering the master suite, he glanced at the door, barely hanging on its hinges. “You owe Cherie an apology.”

  Sebastian didn’t respond. He remained stoic.

  “Jaelon, too.”

  He still didn’t say anything.

  “We can’t blame everyone, Sebastian. If anyone needs fingers wagged in their direction, it’s us. We were trained to protect. Kimberly had gained significant interest from Sweden. We realized he had the means to secure a transaction.” A beat later he said, “Don’t shut out the people who can help you. Apologize to Cherie and Jaelon.”

  “Hell and damnation!” Sebastian bellowed. “Is there anyone else you can think of? How about Kane Cartwell? What about the McKays? Have you thought about them? While we’re at it, why don’t you pick up the phone and call her sisters. I’m sure Ansley and Trixie would love to hear from us at this hour. Go ahead. Call them and apologize to them, too!”

  Wyatt took a deep breath. “We need to think about notifying them as a matter of fact. Fletcher is only two and a half hours away. The Cartwells travel in the same circles as we do. How long do you think it will take for them to hear the news?”

  Sebastian was seething. He gritted his teeth and mumbled something about Vince and delivering slow death. Wyatt carefully approached him at the window.

  “Where could she be?” he finally asked.

  “It’s hard to say if Sweden is behind this,” Wyatt replied. “I did some checking. Vince Littleton has endless resources according to what a few PIs told me. Then I talked to the detectives. Sebastian, we’ll be lucky if Vince doesn’t flee the country considering the pending charges against him.”

  “What are you talking about?” Sebastian slowly faced him. His eyes were swollen and the dark shadows surrounding them made him look haunted.

  “They didn’t tell you? Sebastian, the entire community was fooled. Littleton has a record. He’s wanted in three states.”

  “For what?”

  Wyatt could barely force the word past his lips. “Rape.”

  Sebastian immediately slumped to the settee. “This can’t be.” He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “The Elite Gentleman’s Club has prided itself on thorough background checks since its conception.”

  “I think we need to call Kane,” Wyatt said. “He has connections you and I don’t have.”

  “The hell he does.” Sebastian quickly stood again. He stalked his roll top desk. Once there, he retrieved two little black books from the letter-size compartment in the middle. “Here. Start texting.”

  “Who are these people?” Wyatt asked, taking one of the address books and flipping through the names and numbers.

  “They’re active in the lifestyle. Group together text messages and give them limited details. We don’t want to create a sense of alarm, because if Vince suspects anything, he’ll run before we can reach out to the folks who can help us.”

  “Sebastian, we need to come to terms with the possibility they’ve probably left the state. We need to pull resources from outside the community.”

  “I don’t have to come to terms with anything!” he yelled. “I’ve waited for her! Damn it. You of all people ought to understand!”

  “She doesn’t even remember when you bought and paid for her time,” Wyatt told him, putting that tidbit of information on the table. “You took her to your bed and didn’t even tell her what you suspected. I didn’t mention the proof we had. Our mistake may cost her.”

  Sebastian closed his eyes. “How do you tell a woman the man she trusted most drugged her on countless occasions and paraded her around like a bought whore?”

  “You first start by mentioning the times when you saved her.”

  “Well maybe I’ll do just that if I ever have the opportunity to hold her in my arms again!”

  “Sebastian.” Cherie entered the bedroom. “I overheard you from the hallway. I’d like to help.”

  Sebastian glared at her as if he didn’t even see her. Finally, he ripped a few pages from the back of one of the small books. “Get with Jaelon and see if he’ll send out a few text messages, too.”

  She nodded. “We’ll find her, Sebastian. I swear it.”

  * * * *

  “Get out!” Cold hands locked around Kimberly’s wrists. She was tugged away from the car in one fluid motion.

  Kimberly glared at her captor, trying to figure out how many times she’d seen him before. He’d attended several local events. He’d been at dinner parties she and Jason had attended. And there were two things of which she was absolutely certain.

  His name was Vince and he was very cruel to submissive women.

  Wearing an evil smile about as confidently as he wore his expensive suit, Vince flipped a piece of lint from his sleeve. “We’re going in and you’re expected to behave.”

  Kimberly nodded, determined to play the part of doped-out and delusional. Prior to opening the trunk, he was on the phone and Kimberly overheard the entire conversation. He’d boasted about having her. He’d bragged about drugging her out of her mind.

  She hoped she could play a convincing role.

  “Say, ‘yes, Sir,’” he demanded, slapping her face.

  “Yes, Sir,” she repeated, not at all willing to make eye contact until he forced her to look at him.

  “That didn’t hurt?” he asked, grabbing her chin so firmly she could’ve sworn he cracked a bone.

  “Yes, Sir,” she said, nearly mechanically.

  His lips twitched. “You are a pretty thing. I see why Neely is crazy about you. What I don’t understand is why he was willing to negotiate with Sweden.”

  She gazed into his empty eyes, pretending hers were just as empty. What negotiation? Had Vince mentioned a business deal between Jason and this Sweden person for a reason? Did he expect her to respond?

  “Will Jason be glad to see you once he knows you fucked those two rich pricks?” he asked, grabbing his balls and yanking himself in a crude manner. “I asked you a question.”

  Yes, and apparently the dumb fuck liked carrying on a one-sided conversation.

  He snickered. “Defiant and blitzed. That’s exactly how I like my women.”

  If he only knew how alert she’d become, perhaps he wouldn’t act like such an arrogant ass. Then again, if he suspected the dope had worn off, he might give her another injection. With the earlier chloroform, she couldn’t risk further doping. She suspected he’d given her a sedative right after he’d abducted her, but what if the serum was more toxic?

  “Come on, pretty woman. Let me show you off like Neely might. Let’s see how many men turn and look at you tonight.”

  After riding in the trunk for God only knew how long, she doubted too many men would take a second look. Then again, she remi
nded herself, it only took one onlooker, someone to recognize her enough to help her out of this situation.

  She studied the sign hanging lopsided over the building. The neon blue sign read Exploitation.

  She’d been here before. It seemed like a dozen years had passed since the last time she’d visited, but she had definitely been inside the establishment.

  Right after Jason had brought her there, Ansley had mentioned the club, too. Exploitation had been in and out of court in some of the nastiest legal battles ever endured by a kink club. The community leaders argued the morality views. Wives protested about the marital hardships.

  Somehow the club managed to persevere. They stayed in business in spite of opposition. It was a third-rate joint, a real seedy place, but a lot of high-powered Doms still frequented what was once dubbed Columbia’s only kink club.

  Would someone recognize her? She could only hope and pray now.

  “Stay close,” Vince said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her alongside him. “If you don’t, I’ll go after your daddy and your sisters. Your former honey told me you’re quite fond of that nephew, too. I could do a few things to ruin the boy. Ya know?”

  Kimberly went numb. The threat to Cazeron hung in the balance. Where had this guy gained his information? Would Jason really stoop to such levels, or was Vince lying and manipulating what information he had in an effort to frighten her?

  Before they entered the club, Vince threw her against the brick wall and held her by her throat. “We walk in there and you’re my woman. You’re submissive to me. Understood?”

  She nodded once.

  He snarled. “If you’re a good little kitten, I might even let you dance for me tonight. Would you like that?”

  Kimberly flinched as he stroked her head.

  “I knew you would,” Vince said. “You and I are gonna have a fine time together, kitten.”

  * * * *

  “We got her,” Sebastian said, flipping his phone closed and rushing the front door. “Wyatt, call the cops and tell them to meet me at Exploitation. Give me a ten-minute head start. I can’t risk them going in first. Make sure you tell them—no bling and no sirens. They go without the racket and noise.”

  “I’ll be right behind you,” Wyatt called after him.

  Sebastian ran to his car, threw open the door, and cranked the engine. As he sped down the road, he whispered, “Hang on, sweet lady. I’m coming after you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The music was vile. The club was filthy. And the décor was dated. To add to the horror, some of the men there exposed themselves to anyone who would look. The women dressed like working girls rather than the everyday professional who enjoyed stepping out on a Friday or Saturday night and the staff was anything but friendly.

  “I knew you’d love it!” Vince shouted over the crowd. “Come on.”

  She followed him through the club, lifting her eyes whenever she could manage to sneak a peek without Vince catching her. Once, he turned around. In a diabolical voice, he said, “If you leave me, I’ll hurt you. I’ll go after your family. Say, ‘I understand.’”

  “I understand,” she replied, trying to keep up the persona of dazed and confused. Apparently he didn’t know her family. Her fathers weren’t easy marks and they didn’t take kindly to threats on their daughters.

  They continued through the throng of pulsing bodies. Kimberly vaguely remembered the layout of the club, but she easily recalled the reason for the controversy surrounding Exploitation.

  Several perpendicular hallways near the rear exit had been dubbed “the naughty zone” for reasons often cited as grounds for South Carolina divorces. As soon as Vince picked up his pace, she realized where they were headed.

  A few minutes later, he slammed her body against the wall and barricaded her between his chubby form and the slimy surface behind her. “Want to go down on me, baby?”

  Kimberly stilled under his touch. Aware of where he’d led her, she tried to avoid looking to her left or right as the sounds of oral sex filled the blow-job corridor, a nickname given to the club’s infamous hall.

  Hanging over the archway one would find a crude sign used as a woman’s only notice for what awaited her. Attached to the wall, a framed cartoon image depicted a pudgy man smoking a cigar with his trousers balled around his ankles. His hands were on either side of a voluptuous naked woman’s head. The caption read: I’ll make you famous.

  The cartoon image reminded her of Vince. He probably believed his cock could lead many women to stardom.

  Still, he probably shouldn’t test that theory now. Kimberly had already made eye contact with a few of the bouncers. She’d finally spotted a few familiar faces!

  Surely someone would realize she was in trouble. Besides, unlike her sisters before her, Kimberly didn’t take threats lying down. Bullies angered her. Threats made her all the more determined to retaliate and taunting didn’t make her weak or crazy. Oh no, she became more determined as time wore on.

  “On your knees,” Vince said, pushing down on her shoulders while watching the couple to their immediate right.

  The large bear of a man looked down on his sub with adoring eyes, cupping her cheek while she sucked his cock in a slow tempo. Upon closer observation, Kimberly spotted a vibrator remote, settled discreetly in the palm of his hand. As the woman jolted forward, moaning and grunting, her Dom shoved his cock down her throat, changing his rhythm to match hers.

  “Did you hear me?” Vince said, lowering his mouth to her ear.

  Kimberly looked beyond his shoulder, ignoring him when he twisted around her body and tried to grind his cock against her center. She focused on the patrons, on people she might potentially know. Someone surely recognized her!

  The music blared in her ears as the club’s tempo was set by drum-driven music. No one was really paying attention to anyone other than their partners. Male and female forms swayed in a wild beat. Thrashing bodies were lifted into the air as carelessly as flailing arms.

  Kimberly needed more attention. She needed a platform, something solid to guarantee people saw and remembered her.

  Her gaze followed the lights to an elevated dance floor. Circular platforms housing large cages with wrought-iron bars surrounded the crowded area. Women used their enclosed corrals to showcase their bodies by demonstrating sex acts or provocative dances.

  While submissive women followed their Doms’ specific orders, their Masters stood by guarding them, protecting them. Those without anyone nearby were more suggestive in their moves. Perhaps they used the platform to win the attention of one of the other patrons. Then again, maybe some of the women, like Kimberly, enjoyed the idea of being watched, desired.

  Acting entranced, Kimberly walked away from Vince. She stared at one of the empty enclosures, realizing her need to perform might save her then.

  “You wanna?” Vince asked, pointing at a cage and retrieving his wallet to pay the attendant standing nearby.

  “They charge a hundred dollars,” she said, acting as if she thought he couldn’t afford the fee.

  “Pennies to a man like me,” he pointed out, thrusting a large bill at the attendant.

  Kimberly focused on the attendant unchaining the cage, willing him to pay attention. To her dismay, he never acknowledged her.

  Before she climbed the ladder, Vince caught her by the arm. “You put on a show up there. I want every man in this room to envy me by the time you’re done. If you do what I tell you, I’ll reward you, kitten. If you don’t, I’ll punish you for hours. Would you like to know which I enjoy most, kitten?”

  She could only imagine. Men like Vince were a disgrace to the community.

  “Do you understand, kitten?”

  “I understand,” she replied, lowering her eyes.

  He patted her behind and sent her on her way. As she climbed the ladder and the gate to the cage was locked behind her, she couldn’t help but cop a smile and wiggle her butt into a catwalk strut. Her confidence was restored o
nce she was out of his reach.

  Vince wanted envy? She could help him out a bit.

  He wanted to be noticed? He had that one in the bag.

  BDSM club goers often turned and stared at the person wearing the snazziest cuffs. Once the cops arrived and led this asshole away, perhaps he’d be remembered for wearing the shiniest silver handcuffs these club patrons had ever seen.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Sebastian rushed through the doors at Exploitation, never bothering to wait at the door for the cops who were now circling the building in their cruisers. Thanks to the club’s reputation, officers often viewed problems there as equivalent to domestic violence calls.

  He well remembered how cops detested the kink clubs. He and Wyatt had made their living consulting on BDSM club matters. They’d trained countless agents and officers in the field.

  As long as Kimberly was still inside, he didn’t care if the officers took all night trying to decide where and how to enter the building. He could handle Vince himself. In fact, he welcomed the idea.

  Pushing by the patrons standing in line and waiting for the chance to enter the building, he approached Sam Jackson, Exploitation’s shady general manager. A former convicted felon, Sam ran a tight ship by implementing old business practices. Backdoor beatings weren’t uncommon when someone was caught stealing, and Doms caught mistreating their subs weren’t just banned from the club, their pictures were hung in the lobby on a wall of shame.

  “She’s still here, Sebastian,” Sam said.

  “Thank God,” he breathed. “Take me to her.”

  “If she’s your woman, you probably won’t be too thrilled with the tactic she used to get away from Littleton.”

  “As long as she’s safe,” he said, following Sam into the heart of the club.

  “She’s in good shape. No one can get to her now. Want me to take you to Littleton first?” Sam asked, nodding toward a bar table for two.

  Sebastian’s gaze immediately swept across the elevated enclosures. “Sweet mercy hell.”