An Undercover Submissive [Safeword LLC 5] (Siren Publishing Sensations)

by Peyton Elizabeth

  “I see that maybe you are too afraid to unearth your hidden desires. And that is fine. Not everyone has the courage to…investigate…their buried yearnings.”

  “I’m not afraid,” Trish replied, protesting too much. She couldn’t help herself. “I don’t know what makes you think I have some deep-seated fear, but my investigation is meant to uncover the abuse that BDSM hides.”

  “And you have every right to do that, so long as the people you are targeting are actually doing so. I will never argue that there are some men and women alike who use the Lifestyle to camouflage their cruel and sadistic need to hurt others.” Kennedy tilted her head, and Trish wondered how her bun stayed in place. Her hair was an exotic auburn color that was severely pulled back, yet she carried it off like one of those old movie stars. She had no idea why her mind strayed off of the topic, but Trish forced herself to focus on the conversation. “I’m not referring to the sadistic nature of a true Dom either, which has no relation to a man who abuses women. There are some Doms, men and women alike, who are sadistic. Just as there are subs who have masochist tendencies and need that pain to fulfill something inside of them. I fully support outing any man or woman who uses the Lifestyle as an excuse. That aside, you exhibit the nature of a true submissive in your mannerisms and the way you carry yourself. You avert your eyes when you’re confronted, the lilt in your voice falls off at the end of your sentences, and you follow instructions upon pressure in order to appease the person. I could continue, but then I might reveal all of my secrets. To me, it seems as if your fear is holding you back.”

  “You—”

  “Here’s my card,” Kennedy said, magically producing the small, square business card. Trish couldn’t prevent herself from looking down at it, wondering what type of information would be included. A picture of a woman’s hands tied with a red leather sash was in the top left hand corner. Kennedy’s name, email address, and company website were listed on it as well, with a tag line that read: Release is only obtained after first being restrained… Trish’s eyes went back to the picture, and it suddenly felt as if there was something enclosing her wrists. She angrily sat back in her chair and crossed her arms again. “Think about my offer. It’s not meant for your investigation, so much as maybe research. And as I said prior, there is a huge distinction. If you take the placement seriously, you might surprise yourself and actually find meaning to your life that has obviously and so far, eluded you. It takes courage to be a submissive. Look that up in your tablet.”

  Trish remained silent as she watched Kennedy stand up and collect her purse. Although dusk was falling, Kennedy slipped on a pair of oversized sunglasses and walked away. Trish watched as she headed to the sidewalk, where a black town car waited. Sure enough, James Calihan got out of the driver’s side door and walked around, opening the back door for Kennedy.

  Who was that man? A chauffer? A bodyguard? Did he work for Safeword LLC or the Order, the clandestine group of men she’d heard so many rumors about? There, for an instant, it seemed that he shifted his gaze and locked his eyes on her, but then just as quickly, slipped from sight into the dark interior of the town car. Trish watched as they drove out of sight and only then, did she pick up the card in front of her. If she did choose to submit an application, it wouldn’t be for the reasons Kennedy said. But maybe, just maybe, it was a way to prove to the elitist woman that Trish wasn’t a submissive, while giving her the opportunity to gain the vital access required for her investigation. What could go wrong, especially if she only needed to utter this safe word that everyone spoke of like it was the Holy Grail?

  Chapter Two

  Sander Bartel slipped his hands in his black, creased trousers’ pockets and stared out over the city of Chicago. It was mid-July and the heat was visible as it came off of the streets and sidewalks below causing that familiar shimmering effect. The refraction bent and weaved its way around the vehicles and legs of the people bustling to get to where they were going on this Tuesday morning. He and his brother were exactly where they needed to be.

  “She’ll be here within ten minutes,” Kennedy said, laying her cell phone and ivory handled coffee mug down on her desk. “She doesn’t own a car. James picked her up a little after one o’clock.”

  “Does she know she’s being placed with us?” Lashe asked from his seat in front of Kennedy’s desk.

  “No. It took a week to verify her medical records and look over her application—sparse as it was. I’m not forcing this issue, Lashe. If she walks in for this appointment and doesn’t like that you and Sander are going to be the Doms to train her in this Lifestyle, I’m not stopping her from walking out. That isn’t how I run my business.”

  “I know that Lashe has pushed this forward,” Sander said, turning to face them. He leaned his shoulder up against the window. “I’m grateful that you took the time to meet with her. I figure it is only a matter of time before Warren Shelton calls the police and has her arrested for stalking. And if that wouldn’t stop her, who knows what Shelton would do. Granted, he’s not a part of the Order, but he’s a good Dom and treats his submissives with respect. As for his political career, who knows how far the man would go to make sure his reputation remains spotless. The bottom line is you see in her what we see in her. She’s a submissive.”

  Sander was well aware that Lashe was like a dog with a bone when he wanted something. His brother wasn’t known for his patience, and Sander was surprised he’d lasted this long. They’d wanted Trish well before they realized that she was an actual employee of the publishing company they had acquired. Now, she was messing in the wrong people’s lives that could very well end with her being hurt. He and Lashe needed to make certain that didn’t happen.

  “And what was it that you saw in her?” Kennedy asked, taking a seat in her plush black leather chair. She crossed her legs as she turned it with a heel in order to face him. “I understand your need to protect the Order and didn’t ask if the Senator is a part of that group, but what you’re requesting is very personal. And Lashe saying that you two are attracted to her—well, I don’t know if that’s enough.”

  “I am in the room,” Lashe said, his wry comment being ignored.

  “It must be,” Sander said, countering her words. “You have us here and are willing to place her with us. But I’ll expand on the why. The first moment she walked into the club was like watching a little girl walk down a Barbie doll aisle at a toy store. She didn’t know which play area to look at first and, unlike a little girl would, she resisted getting too close. It was obvious that Trish became instantly aroused, yet she fought it. Why? She affected us in an animalistic way that one can only put down as a deep-seated need to claim what we know is rightfully ours. Does that sound arrogant and self-righteous? Absolutely. But that’s how we feel, all the same. I’m assuming that you wouldn’t have placed her with us had our likes and dislikes, personality, et cetera, not have matched hers?”

  “You assume correctly, although as I said, Ms. Lawton wasn’t exactly forthcoming on her application.” Kennedy picked up a pen and rolled it between her fingers. “Her soft limits were few, while her hard limits contained practically everything BDSM stands for. Her experience is limited. And I’m not telling you anything you don’t know, considering I e-mailed you her file yesterday.”

  “We’ll go slow, take it from the beginning, and work our way from there. We will abide by your instructions and not attend public clubs or have any members of the Order present during her two-month contract. I’m sure you are aware that you’re tying our hands, but it’s nothing that we can’t work around.”

  “We’ll use the time to discuss exactly what the Lifestyle entails and hopefully, she’ll open up to us,” Lashe said, leaning back in his seat. Sander knew he couldn’t be quiet for long.

  “I’m having James look into her background to ensure that she was truthful in regards to her past.”

  “You think something may have happened to her?” Lashe asked. “I do think something has
formed her biased opinion of BDSM, but seeing her reaction to the scenes at the club did not give me any inclination that anything physical occurred to her.”

  “I agree with Lashe,” Sander said, looking at his watch to see how much time had passed. Three more minutes. “But it’s important for you to know, Kennedy, that we’re not doing this out of obligation to the Senator. This has nothing to do with the Order and everything to do with our attraction to Trish. If she had not taken your offer to utilize Safeword LLC, we would have pursued her through different means. And if we find that she isn’t a true submissive, and that’s a point zero one percent, then we explain the Lifestyle and wish her the best of luck in her life. We only want her to be happy.”

  “And you think that you and Lashe can make her happy?” Kennedy asked, humor finally lacing that chilled tone she always used.

  “I think we can, along with giving her what she needs.”

  “Why is it that dominant men always think they know best?” Kennedy turned and picked up a folder. “This is the contract with my additional directives. If you’d like to look it over before Ms. Lawton arrives, you may do so. Or you may wait and I will go over it with the three of you.”

  Sander studied Kennedy, wondering why her question regarding Doms seemed more literal than it was rhetorical. While Lashe took the offered contract and sat back in his seat to peruse the papers, Sander stayed where he was and thought back to the first time he’d met Kennedy.

  She’d made an appointment to meet with him and Lashe over lunch, which had to have been around five or six years ago. They had thought it was in regards to a small circulation daily newspaper company they had just acquired and were turning into an online news source. It was anything but as she revealed she knew about the Order, the inner workings and who the board members were. Kennedy stated she was starting a placement agency where she would place submissive women within a ménage, for those men who had such a penchant. It was hard to say no to the somber businesswoman offering their organization a safe place to find pre-screened available women who suited their lifestyle choice.

  “How did you find out about the Order?” Sander asked.

  It was a question he’d inquired every time that he was in her presence. He knew what her answer would be, considering it was the same each time he asked. Kennedy didn’t even bother to look up from her desk as she rearranged papers that weren’t even cluttered. He grinned. He loved rattling her.

  “I have my ways,” Kennedy replied, finally seeming happy with the way her folders were stacked. “Claire is being released from the hospital today. The funeral they held for Max was very moving.”

  “The Order takes care of their own,” Sander replied, his heart aching for what Claire must be going through. Max was a good friend of theirs, as well as a member of the Order. The board would ensure that Clare had everything she needed in her time of healing. “Do you know if James has found out anything regarding the accident?”

  “I try to stay out of the Order’s business, just as you should stay out of mine.”

  Kennedy tilted her head, and that’s when Sander heard James Calihan’s voice carrying through the door. He shared a look with Lashe, who had been quietly reading over the additional requirements that Kennedy had added to their contract. Seeing that Lashe seemed accepting of the changes, Sander nodded his head slightly in acknowledgement.

  They had waited a long time to find the right woman who could be their permanent submissive. Was Trish Lawton the one? All Sander knew was that he and Lashe both felt drawn to her and that they needed to see this through. They would need to be careful of what her true intentions were, but if they handled her training right, Trish’s true nature would emerge. His cock twitched at knowing what that entailed.

  Lashe stood up and walked over to where Sander was still positioned by the window. A chair was to his right, so in his true, typical fashion, Lashe leaned his hip against it and loosened his tie. It was his subtle telltale sign that he was ready to do battle. And a battle was what they were going to get, of that he had no doubt, especially upon seeing Trish’s face when James threw the office door open. Kennedy’s Chief Security Officer held out his hand in gesture for Trish to precede him, but she seemed too shocked to move. That was not exactly the response that Sander was hoping for.

  The petite brunette looked at them in abject horror, and had James not been behind her, Sander was relatively sure she would have turned and left immediately. As it was, Trish stood in the doorway and looked from person to person, obviously trying to gauge if this was a practical joke. When her dark gaze landed on Kennedy, it was only then that she must have realized this was truly happening. Damn, but she was cute. Her long hair fell over her shoulder, almost as if the ends wanted to caress her nipples. Would they, when she was naked and standing before him? Her hips were curved just right, with what he knew had an added flare of her ass behind her.

  “Trish, please come in,” Kennedy said.

  Sander was impressed with Kennedy’s attempt to smooth over what must be a shock to Trish’s system. While her fingers tightened on the strap of her purse and Trish tentatively stepped into the office, Sander took the time to study her. He was still trying to figure out why this little minx had gotten under his skin and buried herself so deep there seemed no hope of dismissing her.

  Trish had an awkwardness about her that was endearing, as if she knew she was accident-prone and was just waiting for someone to make fun of her. Maybe that was why once she found her bearings, the little minx came out to play. Her brown eyes flashed and her shoulders reared back, as if gearing up for an all-out war. He had no doubt she would put up a good fight, but Sander had never lost a battle in his life. He wasn’t about to lose this one either.

  “Seriously?” Trish turned toward Kennedy, her sudden movement causing her bangs to fly into her face. She blew them away as James closed the door behind them. “Ms. Van Camp, I would have thought you had a little more intelligence than this. The two men who cost me my job? Really?”

  “If I recall correctly, you submitted your resignation,” Lashe said, holding up his hand. When Trish’s eyes zeroed in on him, Lashe took his own life in his hands by saying, “Oh, you weren’t done talking. Sorry. Carry on.”

  “Why you arrogant, obnoxious asshole.” Trish focused back on Kennedy and took a deep breath. Sander was amazed her tiny head didn’t expand from the amount of air she inhaled. “If this is how you run your business, I’m surprised your doors are still open. Obviously, you’ve got these women snowed and completely oblivious to the fact that you have no idea what you are doing.”

  “Oh, man.” Lashe smiled and shook his head. He looked over at Sander and spoke like they were having a one-on-one conversation. “Did you hear that? She is so going to be apologizing to Kennedy for that comment at the end of our contract. By the way, I’m pretty damn sure that’s not how you speak to your Masters.”

  “Oh, my God!” Trish yelled. “I’m in the room, Lashe.”

  “If everyone will calm down and act like the adults I know you to be, then I will start this meeting and explain my reasoning,” Kennedy said. By this point, she was standing and glaring over at Lashe. Sander didn’t blame her, but knew this was his brother’s way of lessening the tension. Humor had always been his crutch. “Trish, you wouldn’t have filled out an application if you didn’t want to explore this side of you.”

  “And how do you know that I didn’t fill it out just to gain more information for my exposé on Senator Shelton?” Trish said, her tone defensive.

  “Because although I think you would go to the ends of the earth for an article that you truly believed needed telling, I think that even you have a moral standing that you won’t cross. I’m sure your sister would vouch for that.”

  The shock on Trish’s face was evident, as well as other mixed emotions. Sander knew they were about to lose her and he felt his heart rate speed up at the thought. He quickly glanced at Lashe, who had wiped all traces of humor from his
body language. It was time to take control.

  “Kennedy. James. Would you please give us a moment with Trish?”

  Kennedy nodded her agreement without any traces of guilt for evoking that type of response within Trish, and walked around her desk. Without a word, she and James exited the office. Sander stared at Trish, amazed that he could actually see each barrier slide back in place as she used the time given to her advantage.

  “Did you have her investigate me?”

  “No.” Sander stayed where he was, wanting her to feel comfortable with the space between them. It wasn’t the time to push her—at least yet. Lashe followed his lead, although Sander knew that his brother could be unpredictable at times. “Whatever Kennedy knows, she would only share with us if she felt it affected our relationship.”

  “We don’t have a relationship.”

  “I would disagree with that,” Lashe replied, crossing his arms. He still held her folder in one hand. “You were once our employee who went about investigating a kink club without our knowledge. I’d say that constitutes as a relationship—albeit a working one.”

  Trish threw up her hands, obviously finding out that she wasn’t about to win an argument against Lashe. Sander was used to his brother’s way and figured getting her a little flustered would push aside the reference to her sister. He made a mental note to see exactly what James and Kennedy had found out about her past, as it would most likely affect her training and the trust they needed her to instill in them.

  “Let’s lay our cards on the table. What do you want from me?”

  Lashe looked at Sander and smiled, as if he were handing her over on a silver platter. He just shook his head, but did take the lead. Pushing off the windowpane, Sander took a few steps in toward the middle of the room. He kept his hands in his pockets.

  “Trish, let’s take this from the beginning. We bought out Cunningham Publishing, as well as acquiring several similar companies. Simon has done an excellent job as Chief Editor and we have a great staff to run the paper, along with the online version. We do not know every reporter on our payroll. Now jump forward to where we found you at the Point, investigating several high-profile people for an article you did not get approval for. It’s a place that not only do we frequent, but it’s where we, and close friends, go to live a lifestyle that frankly is nobody’s business but our own.”