by Lauren Smith
He glanced up from Kenzie and saw his friends were watching him, not her. Fenn held a half smile, and Emery had an odd expression on his face, one of bemused puzzlement.
Frowning, Royce delivered three successive blows to Kenzie, and she hissed out a sharp breath for each.
“Five, six, seven… Thank you, sir.” This time he could tell she was close to breaking down. It was her first time being spanked in this fashion, he could tell. But she was taking it like a true submissive, in front of two men she didn’t know. God, the woman was brave, and he would reward her for it later.
“Three more,” Emery said to Kenzie in gentle encouragement.
Royce didn’t let up. The last three were just as sharp, and he knew it would leave her bottom burning all night. She counted the last three, one at a time, her words almost a whisper, and by the last her muscles went lax and she lay panting on the pool table.
Royce glanced at his friends, who were still watching him.
“Take care of her,” said Emery. “We’ll have Hans update us.” The twins slipped from the room together.
Royce unfastened Kenzie’s handcuffs and tried to help her stand. She jerked away from him, her face stained with tears.
Fuck. He had gotten to her. Too much too fast. For a submissive who didn’t know she was submissive, her only reactions to punishment could be frightening and humiliating. But to me, her tears are beautiful. They were a sign of trust, a sign of strength. Everyone thought subs were weak, but it was the opposite. It took strength and courage to give yourself over to another’s control and let them own you in that vulnerable moment. Kenzie had done so beautifully, but he knew she had to feel raw and exposed.
He caught her up in his arms, even though she kicked and struggled.
“Hush, Little Mac. It’s over now. You did very well, and I’m so pleased.” He carried her to his room, where he planned to hold her until she calmed and fell asleep again. He passed by Hans on the stairs.
“We’ll need three tickets to Moscow,” he said. Hans nodded and continued his silent watch over Devereaux House.
“Hush, Little Mac. It’s over now. You did very well, and I’m so pleased.”
The words seem to come through a fog. Kenzie was cuddled in Royce’s arms, unable to move and barely able to think. Her bottom burned, and she knew she had been crying. But she had no energy left to care. She was exhausted. But he is pleased with me. Feelings of self-loathing swept through her, because she was happy that he was happy…for letting him hit her.
That can’t be right. I am so messed up. And the worst part was that it had hurt, yes, but that edge of pain from the softer blows… It made her flush with heat, and wetness had pooled between her thighs. She had been aroused by him spanking her. Just like in her fantasies. Only she hadn’t known that the pain would be that acute.
She wasn’t really hurt. Royce had known just the right amount of pain to give her, and that terrified her. Yet he didn’t. She burrowed into him now, inhaling his scent and wanting to imprint it on herself. There was nothing beyond this moment for her, the quiet breaths and her trembling, exhausted body wrapped against his.
I won’t think about tomorrow or how I’ll have to face him. I’ll just enjoy this moment. After that, she surrendered to sleep in Royce’s arms.
6
My ass hurts.
That was the first thought that crept into Kenzie’s head when she woke up. Bright sunlight shone through the windowpanes where the curtains had been pulled to the sides. She winced as she sat up and pushed the covers back. The sheets were heavy and soft—too soft—and the room she was in was lavishly decorated with antique furniture, not the cheap IKEA stuff from her apartment. A trickle, then a flood of embarrassing memories came back to her. She covered her face in her hands.
Oh my God, I let my professor spank me last night. In front of his friends.
She peeked between her fingers, checking to make sure the room was in fact empty. It was. Then she slipped out of bed and dashed to the bathroom. Her toiletry bag sat on the counter. Hans had been really thorough when he’d retrieved her stuff. She hastily brushed her teeth before she had the courage to tug down the pajama pants and look at her ass in the mirror.
It was a light-pink shade and still incredibly sensitive. Every time she sat down today she was going to remember being bent over that pool table, cuffed, and spanked. How humiliating. And yet…
And I’m going to Russia. It’d been worth it for that. She knew last night that she had to go. She was wrapped up in this thing now and couldn’t let Royce face this alone. She couldn’t stay here when she knew what he would be facing. It didn’t seem right to just sit back like some idiot damsel in distress when she could help him somehow. She’d find a way to justify going, but at least for now, she was relying on her instincts, and her instincts told her she had to go with him.
You only live once, right?
She stared at the mirror and took a brush out of her bag, running it through the tangled brown strands of her hair before she pulled it up into a ponytail. She needed to shower and change, but first she needed to call her parents and let them know she was leaving for Russia. She pulled her laptop from her backpack and turned it on. Her mom would be making coffee right now in the kitchen, checking her emails on the computer. When she called them via her webcam, she watched the little green phone icon vibrate on the screen.
Her mother’s face appeared on the screen, a coffee mug in her hands. “Hello?”
“Hey, Mom! I’m glad I caught you. Is Dad around?”
“Andrew? Come in here, honey. Kenzie wants to see you.” Kenzie smiled at the sight of her parents hunched together as they watched her through the screen. Her dad smiled broadly.
“Morning, kiddo. What’s up?”
She braced herself, not knowing how they would take it. “I have some big news.”
“Yes?” her mother asked.
“Dr. Devereaux is taking me to Russia today. It’s a last-minute decision, but we’re flying to Moscow.”
“Russia?” Her dad’s brows rose. “This for some paleontology thing?”
“Yes. We’re going to visit some universities over there.” She wanted to tell them they would be digging, but it would be frozen in Moscow and there would be no way to dig this time of year.
“Wow,” her mom said. “Russia. You’ll be safe, won’t you? I hear it can be a little dangerous.”
Kenzie nodded. “Dr. Devereaux is bringing a bodyguard. We’ll be perfectly safe.” The lie felt a bit acidic on her tongue, but there was no way she could tell her parents the truth about why she and Royce were going to Moscow. Telling them about a Russian fossil smuggler and the goons who tried to kill her sounded like a terrible idea.
Her dad pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “When will you be home?”
“I’m not sure. Probably a week?” That sounded reasonable.
“Good, we don’t want to miss you coming home for Christmas.”
“I won’t.” She smiled at them, feeling instantly better until Royce walked into the bedroom.
“Up and at ’em, Little Mac,” he announced, and then paused. He’d noticed her sitting in bed with her laptop.
“Who’s that?” her dad asked, his eyes narrowing.
“Oh, that’s…” She glanced at Royce in terror. This she could not explain.
“Is there a man at your apartment?” her mother asked, then frowned. “Wait…that doesn’t look like your apartment.”
“I’m staying at Dr. Devereaux’s.” She knew this was one truth she couldn’t avoid. “We had to be ready to leave for the airport together, so I stayed here overnight in the guest room.”
“Oh, okay,” her mom said, still frowning. “Can we meet him? Is he still there?”
Royce made a polite cough. Kenzie turned his way. He gave her a little nod, and she turned the laptop his way. Royce came over and bent to peer at the screen, flashing that charming smile of his.
“Hello, Mr.
and Mrs. Martin. I’m glad to finally meet you.”
Kenzie’s mother all but swooned, and her father grinned. That was the thing about Royce Devereaux. He could charm snakes—and even overprotective fathers.
“So nice to meet you too! Kenzie’s told us all about you. So, Russia? What a treat that will be.” Her mother was beaming now, and Kenzie wanted to crawl into a hole and die. She loved her parents, but they were sometimes a little too eager to help further her career, and right now they were embarrassing her.
“Hey—” She cut into the flurry of questions her parents were currently directing at Royce. “We have to go now, okay? I’ll call you when I get home.” She slapped the laptop lid closed and once again covered her face with her hands.
“They seem nice,” Royce said as he pried her hands away from her face.
“They are,” she agreed, still not looking at him. They weren’t going to talk about last night, were they? She wasn’t ready for that. Hell, she’d never be ready for that discussion.
“You don’t need to hide from me, sweetheart. Last night was intense for both of us. But you have nothing to be ashamed of.” He gave her ponytail a gentle tug.
So they were going to talk about it. She finally looked at him, expecting what she didn’t know. But she a saw fierce tenderness in his eyes, and he was smiling.
“Most subs are emotionally vulnerable after their first punishment. It’s because you opened up to me, and that made you feel vulnerable. And I liked that you were open with me.”
“You did?” She wanted to know what else he liked, but they were already treading in dangerous waters. He should not have touched her last night, and she sure as hell shouldn’t have let him. But she had to know more about him and the dark world he lived in that seemed to fill a void inside of her.
“Yeah, I liked it a hell of a lot. If you and I weren’t…” Royce’s smile faded. “If we didn’t work together like we do, let’s just say I’d have done everything to you last night.”
Her mouth was dry and she struggle to swallow. “What do you mean by everything?” I’m only going to torture myself asking him to tell me what I want to hear, like looking at a pair of Jimmy Choos when all I can afford are sneakers.
Royce leaned over her on the bed, one hand fisted in her ponytail, and he pulled her head back as he gazed into her eyes.
“I’d only scare you if I told you.”
“Tell me,” she begged. Her heart pounded against her ribs, and a hunger lurked deep within, wanting to know what he defined as everything.
He shook his head. “No sense in speaking aloud that which I cannot do.” He said it like a kingly proclamation and was smiling again. “Get up and get showered. Our flight leaves in three hours.” He released her hair after one more playful tug.
Half an hour later, Kenzie was showered and packed, her bag by the front door. Hans and Royce were there waiting for her.
Hans handed her a slim black phone. “Here. This is your personal satellite phone. It has a tiny tracker wired in that I can trace at a distance of five thousand miles.”
“Whoa,” she whispered as she accepted the phone.
“Five thousand? Emery must’ve extended the range of the Black Widow.” Royce was checking out his own phone with new appreciation.
“What’s a Black Widow?” Kenzie asked.
“It’s a tracking device. Emery’s company makes them. Powerful little bug. Handy as hell.” Royce pocketed his phone and focused on Hans. “We taking any protection?”
Hans shook his head. “Too risky, even with permits. Dimitri Razin will meet us in Moscow and see that we receive any necessary firepower.”
Guns? They were talking about guns? The room spun a little as Kenzie recalled the shooting from last night. How she’d managed to forget it in the first place she didn’t know.
“Kenzie, it’s okay,” Royce said, touching her shoulder. “We won’t let you get anywhere near the dangerous stuff. I promise.”
She nodded, wanting to trust him. But she certainly didn’t trust whoever that man Vadym was. She knew in her gut that whatever they faced in Russia would not be easy or safe, and she’d made a vow to herself to face that danger and follow through on helping Royce. But if Royce wanted to pretend for a little while longer that he could keep her safe, she would let him. Her eyes would stay open, and she would stay alert.
“Everyone ready?” Hans looked at her, as though trying to make sure that she was truly set on coming.
She tightened her grip on her suitcase handle. “Ready.”
This is crazy. Flying off to Russia with my professor and his scary-ass bodyguard to stop fossil smugglers? God, I hope I know what I’m doing.
7
Royce hated planes. He didn’t used to, but since he lost his parents, he’d viewed them as giant deathtraps. The pilot announced their flight time and the weather conditions on the way to Moscow, and Royce’s stomach knotted. He’d flown often over the years but had never gotten over the ache of his memories of that tragic night.
He would sit frozen in his first-class seat of the Boeing 747 and not be able to breathe. The engines would come to life and the flight attendant would walk the length of the cabin, calm and casual, but nothing could distract him from his fear. He would grip the armrest until his knuckles were white, even before takeoff.
Every time the memories of losing his parents came back, they were as dark and heavy as a midnight sea, drawing him down into their depths.
Royce grinned as he, Wes, and Emery raided his dad’s liquor cabinet and sat in the den watching TV. His parents wouldn’t get home until late tonight, and they could hide the empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s long before then. They didn’t talk about school. They talked about girls or sports or a hundred things that seemed so important at the time.
The phone rang, but he ignored it. Half an hour later the police arrived at his door. Two officers stepped out of their vehicles, caps in their hands, heads bowed.
“Are you Royce Devereaux?” one man asked.
He nodded and searched their faces, trying to figure out why cops would be here at all.
“There’s been an accident. The plane carrying your parents missed the runway in the fog.” The second officer swallowed thickly and continued. “I’m sorry, but there were no survivors.”
The words seemed to make the air hum like a hive of bees deep in his skull. He couldn’t escape the sound. He tried to speak, but no words came out. His eyes burned. His heart froze, unable to beat.
When Royce’s legs gave out, it was his friends who caught him and held him up.
“Dr. Devereaux, do you want nuts?” The sweet, slightly husky voice jerked him out of the past.
Nuts? What the fuck?
Kenzie waved a bag of peanuts in front of him. “Peanuts. You want some?” The smile on her lips faltered, and he realized it was because he was glaring at her. He wiped the scowl from his face and took the shiny red packet from her. The flight attendant walked by, and Royce flagged her down. “One glass of scotch on the rocks, please.”
The woman, who was no doubt barely older than Kenzie, smiled invitingly. Her eyes were warm and appreciative as she took him in. “Of course, sir. I’ll bring that right away.”
In another time and place, he would’ve taken the attendant into the nearest bathroom and punched another hole in his mile-high club card, but the thought wasn’t as appealing as it used to be. He shot a look at Kenzie, who was focused on her laptop, which was already propped open on her tray table. Hans sat in the aisle seat in the row across from them, neck pillow behind his head, his eyes closed.
Smart man. I wish I could sleep on a plane like him.
Royce focused on Kenzie again, not missing that the small confines of the plane even in first class made their legs touch and their arms press together on the armrests. A soft floral scent teased his nose, and he leaned in a little, wanting to inhale the fragrance. He started to close his eyes again, but as he did so Kenzie started talking.
“I downloaded some information about Mongolia before we left. Do you want to read it?” she asked.
“Mongolia?” He was still focused on that sweet scent that was beckoning him.
“Yeah. Monte said the Russian guy, Vadym-whatever, was involved in fossil smuggling in Mongolia, remember? I figure it has to be about the Gobi Desert. That’s the richest fossil location in the world.”
Royce nodded. He had been in Mongolia before when he was younger. One of his first digs had been out on the steppes.
“Your drink, sir.” The flight attendant set the scotch in his hands, and he didn’t miss how her touch lingered on his hand a little too long. An invitation?
“Thanks. Do you want a drink, Little Mac?”
Kenzie glanced up from her screen, her cheeks pinkened. “I don’t need anything.”
“Rum and Coke for the lady,” he told the attendant, who nodded and left.
“I don’t think she wanted to get me a drink,” Kenzie mused, a slightly puzzled look in her eyes.
“It’s her job,” Royce said. “Now show me some of the maps. It’s been a while since I’ve been there.”
Kenzie angled her computer his way. “What’s the Gobi like? I’ve never been to a desert.”
“It’s colder than you’d think, this time of year. Plus, it’s full of camels and yurts,” Hans interrupted. Royce and Kenzie both stared at him. His eyes were still closed and he seemed to be asleep, but he’d been listening. Crafty man. Royce shook his head, trying not to laugh.
“Yurts?” Kenzie’s nose wrinkled.
“Big circular enclosed tents. Can house about fifty people comfortably,” Royce added.
“Comfortably?” Hans said, his eyes still closed. “Try packed like sardines.”
Kenzie returned to her original question. “What’s the desert like?”
Royce tried to think of a way to describe it. “It’s bleak and harsh. A vast open land that’s eerily silent. Sound carries across the dunes for miles. There’s ice-filled canyons, and the dinosaur fossils in the steppes. Once you’re out among the dunes, you can completely disappear. In a lot of ways.” He sipped his scotch and noticed Kenzie was watching him with fascination.