by Keta Kendric
“Need I remind you, if you get caught, this had nothing to do with me or the bureau?”
“I know, Diana. How many times have we done this?”
She shrugged. “I know, but I have a pretty nice ass to cover.” Her smile widened. “One that can be bent over this desk in a heartbeat if you change your mind about wanting to play.”
“As tempting as that offer is, I need to do this,” I stated as I snatched the Post-it from her manicured fingers.
I stood. “I’ll call you when it’s done.”
“Ansel, wait!” she called to my back because I was already heading towards her closed door. “You’re going to do it now?”
“Yep,” I answered without glancing back.
4
Ansel
As I strolled into my house, the television lured me in the direction of where the noise emanated. Regina’s refreshing scent was light, but it permeated throughout the house. Had her vanilla-cocoa scent soaked into the walls?
The news blasted a story of a death at the hands of a serial killer as I headed towards the kitchen.
“Mr. Frederick Kaplan has been found decapitated. Although evidence was found that pointed to him having ties to the infamous DG6 gang, authorities suspect that it may have been the family of one of his alleged victims that committed the brutal beheading. Reports suspect that the killer used a jagged blade, possibly a saw, and started the vicious attack while Kaplan was alive. Kaplan had been accused of murder, and sexual misconduct of several women, but his affluent status as a real estate tycoon afforded him a team of lawyers who managed to absolve him of all charges.”
The news anchor’s words of murder echoed throughout the house, bending my ear. Mr. Kaplan had been dead for more than a month, but they’d undoubtedly located his frozen body and stumbled upon his head, if they were able to identify him. Wait until they found the asshole I’d left hanging from his ceiling fan. They’d need rain boots because his polished marble floors gleamed with a crimson finish, all eight pints of his blood.
I gave zero fucks about dead murderers. My concentration fell on the woman who’d occupied a place in my mind since day one.
If Regina thought I hadn’t noticed her avoiding me, she could think again. There wasn’t much I hadn’t noticed about Dr. Regina Dominquez. She was different from the women I was used to. I hadn’t even fucked her, and she was already wreaking havoc on me. I planned to put an end to this shit. I’d been playing nice for way too long.
“Good morning,” I called, announcing myself as soon as I entered the kitchen.
“Good morning,” she mumbled behind her hand as she continued to chew. A bowl of cereal sat on the table in front of her. Her wide gaze followed my movements as I circled the table.
She picked up the remote and turned down the volume of the television mounted to my kitchen wall.
“I would have made breakfast, but sadly, I can’t cook,” she said, embarrassed. “I’ve been surviving most of my life on take-out, microwave, and canned foods, which explains my weight.”
“There is nothing wrong with your weight, Doc.”
Eventually, I’d prove to her what I said better than I could tell her, especially where her weight was concerned. The poor woman was programmed. She wasn’t a walking rack of bones, so she’d likely had assholes telling her that she was too big for their taste.
They were dicks who couldn’t handle a real woman and poured their energy into making her believe she needed to lose weight. As far as I was concerned, she didn’t need to lose a thing because it was all in the right places. My tongue took a slow stroll across my lips as I watched her watch me.
“It’s okay that you can’t cook. I’ll see about rectifying that situation,” I stated as I retrieved my phone from the back pocket of my sweats.
I sat it on the counter before reaching up to open the cabinet and taking down a bowl and a box of cereal. While the plain flakes fell into the bowl, I swiped through my phone, placing it on speaker and listened as it rang twice.
“Hello, Mr. Knox,” a heavy Spanish accent greeted.
“Gigi, I need you,” I yelled towards the phone as I removed a spoon from the drawer and milk from the refrigerator.
“I like when you need me, Mr. Knox,” Gigi replied.
At that statement, Regina’s eyebrows zipped up her forehead. Her reaction had me grinning. Gigi’s statement caused a streak of jealousy to cross her gaze that I didn’t miss. Regina didn’t have to worry her beautiful head because the only woman on my mind lately was her.
I lifted my phone and bowl from the counter and placed them on the table in front of me.
“My lady can’t cook, and I can’t have her starving because I can’t boil an egg either.” My words were aimed at the phone, but my gaze was directed at Regina.
The pointed interest in Regina’s gaze was revealed as she adjusted herself in her seat. And I hadn’t missed her silent repeat of two specific words: My lady.
“You know how I am, Gigi. I need a woman with a certain depth to her perfection.”
My attention remained on Regina more than it was on anything else I was doing.
“Whoever you’re working for, I’ll pay you double,” I offered, knowing Gigi would be willing to dump her current employer for the right price. Gigi had three grandkids she spoiled rotten, and a boyfriend twenty years her junior she spoiled as much as the grandbabies.
“When do you need me? I don’t like working for this jackass, Mr. Callahan anyway,” she stated, not taking a moment to think about her decision.
“Can you come in tomorrow?”
“Yes, I’ll be there,” she returned.
“Good. Come to the penthouse, Gigi. I’m leaving the hills today. I’ll text you the address and leave you a key at the reception.”
Regina’s gaze remained locked on mine as Gigi’s words poured from my phone.
“I’m taking off my apron now and leaving. Asshole is not eating lunch today. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Knox,” Gigi replied.
The sound of her scurrying around the asshole’s house filtered through the phone as she prepared to leave him hungry.
Glenda Garcia had worked for me pre-DG6. The only reason I’d let her go was because of the dangers I knew we’d incur dealing with DG6.
The smile on Regina’s face widened as she shook her head in amusement at me.
“People don’t tell you no, do they?”
“Nope,” I answered, taking the first bite of my cereal as my gaze swept the parts of her not hidden by the table.
“Your penthouse? Is it far from here?” she questioned, ignoring her cereal.
“About two and a half hours from here. The penthouse is in one of the most secure buildings in San Diego. Although this house is somewhat off the grid, we don’t know who may have been informed about it. JG and Rob are going to stick around. The rest of the guys needed to get back to their lives. Without the extra guns, I’d rather have you in a more secure location.”
Marcus and Scott would be in town in a few days also, but Regina didn’t need to know all the logistics of my plan to keep her safe. I’d already overheard her telling Megan that she felt like a burden.
“Thank you for doing this. For letting me stay with you,” she expressed as genuine appreciation flashed in her gaze.
“But?” I asked, noticing her stiff posture.
“I don’t want to be a bother. I don’t want you to change your life around because of me. I have some savings my family didn’t know about. I can pay you.”
She started to squirm under my penetrating stare when I didn’t respond right away.
“First, if you were a burden, I’d have let you go with Aaron. Second, I’m offended that you’ve offered me money.”
Her gaze dropped. The inflection in my tone had no doubt raised her stress level. I’d reined in my aggressive nature for Regina, just as I’d done for Megan. The shit that these women had been through and had still managed to retain their sanity was beyond me.
The jury was still out on Megan’s sanity, but I loved her like family. Whether Regina believed it or not, she deserved my respect as well, and there wasn’t a whole lot of people I respected.
“I didn’t mean to offend you, Ansel.”
My elongated inhale was followed by a slow exhale. “You see, that’s the thing. You are trouble, Doc. You are so much fucking trouble that I can’t even properly explain it to you.”
Her confusion at my stiff words was apparent.
“Protecting you is much easier than what I truly want from you. I want you to be my submissive. I want you strung out on my dick. I want your pussy to overdose on it. I want you begging me to do things to you that you never even imagined. I’m not altogether sure how much longer I can wait. That is the kind of trouble you are, Doc.”
Her throat bobbed at my sudden outburst. She had no idea. I lived for trouble. If any of her family members came for her, they weren’t going to leave California alive. As a matter of fact, I prayed they were stupid enough to come for her.
“I don’t think I can be that person for you, Ansel. I don’t think I’d be a good submissive for you. I wouldn’t know where to start. I’m certain I wouldn’t know how to make you happy.” She dropped her gaze, staring down at the cereal that she’d stopped eating.
“How can you be so certain of something you haven’t given any thought to trying? I’ll teach you everything you need to know and more. If you listen and learn to trust me, you’ll have nothing to worry about.”
“Can I think about it? I don’t know,” she stated, her head shrinking into her shoulders. She assumed she couldn’t please me. What was she so afraid of? I’d hardly touched the woman and knew more about her sexuality than she did. I noticed things she’d never searched for within herself.
“Don’t take too long thinking about it,” I warned her, reclaiming her gaze. “You’re stretching my patience well past its threshold.”
I’d just lied to her. It didn’t matter what the answer to my question was. If I wanted something, nothing was going to stop me from getting it. Regina was already mine as far as I was concerned. She’d been claimed the day I’d met her. I just hadn’t marked her yet.
My smile eased the tension I’d set off in her, and a shy beam crept across her lips.
“Thank you, Ansel,” she said. The sincerity in her tone wasn’t missed.
“You’re welcome,” I returned before I stood.
I poured my uneaten cereal down the disposal and placed the milk back in the refrigerator.
Before I left the kitchen, I glanced back at her. “Doc.”
“Yes.”
“Never offer me money again.”
“Okay. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Never do it again.”
“I won’t,” she stated with those big browns locked on mine. I was sure she’d caught the hint of finality in my statement. However, I didn’t miss the hint of defiance in her tone either. She wasn’t as afraid of me as she was letting on.
5
Regina
Was everything with Ansel going to be so intense? There was one thing I was certain of. I wasn’t going to offer him money again.
My body and my mind refused to agree on the matter of becoming his sub. My body was anxious to experience something new and saying yes please, as my mind screamed hell no!
In the moments when Ansel and I were in the same room, self-consciousness took over because his eyes were always on me, assessing me, making me feel exposed. As a way to deal with my nervous tension, I talked, babbling on and on about nothing and everything.
Ansel would let me talk nonstop as he silently watched my every move and gesture.
When he’d finally had enough of my chatter, he’d cut into my words by saying whatever it was that had been brewing on his mind.
Thinking about Ansel and his limitless complexities made me tired. Although I’d had time to sleep on it, there wasn’t enough time in a day to think about Ansel’s proposal of me becoming his next, or perhaps one of his subs.
A glance at my bedside clock showed that I’d let time get away from me and it was time for us to make the move to his penthouse. I owned nothing more than the clothes on my back, a few personal items, and the clothes I’d stuffed into my bag before escaping my family. Therefore, it only took me minutes to pack.
When I stepped into the living room, my gaze was cast over Ansel’s broad shoulders, expecting movers. He stood waiting in jeans and a long-sleeved, tan fitted T-shirt that outlined his body deliciously.
Observing, it had just occurred to me that he favored wearing long-sleeved shirts. The times he wore short-sleeves, I’d paused at the stunning sight of his tattooed right arm. From what I’d glimpsed, his tattoos were mostly symbols that I didn’t know the meaning of.
A thick mass of lust was forced down my throat as I diverted my gaze that had become heavy with explicit thoughts. Ansel carried my bag, and I followed him into the garage before taking a final gander at the interior of the house.
A big, black Dually truck seemed out of place among the fleet of luxury vehicles Ansel possessed, which included a white Maserati Quattroporte, a grey Range Rover Sport, and three motorcycles.
He led me to an Audi R8V10, the smallest of his cars, the color Evil Black. I wasn’t a car enthusiast, but I knew it was a two-hundred-thousand-dollar car.
He opened my door and assisted me in before he walked around to his side. He flipped his seat and placed my bag in the compact back area of the car before he climbed in.
The ride to his penthouse started in silence, but I sensed those beautiful green eyes connecting with me more than they were with the road. Since we’d been left alone, my nervousness around him had started to get the best of me. Pretending to find interest outside the window wasn’t working. When his presence started to suffocate me, I started talking.
“August told me that his mother and yours were twins. When you two are together, your features are so similar,” I stated.
“Our mothers were twins who married our fathers, who were brothers. So, we’re double kin.”
This I didn’t know. “So, that explains why you guys have similar mannerisms too.”
His hand waved back and forth in the negative.
“I’ve gotten used to people saying we look alike, but there is no way I act like Aaron too.”
After chuckling at his protest, I yammered on and on about their similarities, from the overwhelming intensity they possessed, to the bad-boy attitudes they exhibited, and even down to the same left-eye twitch. Ansel didn’t like me pointing out the fact that they had twin creases that gathered in their foreheads when they were angry either.
After living in openness on my family’s ranch in Texas, the lively atmosphere surrounding the city we approached drew me in. Tall buildings, streets teeming with smiling shoppers, couples holding hands, and bumper-to-bumper traffic captivated my senses. It reminded me of my life in New York before my family had forced me to live in Texas.
When the car slowed and turned into the tight space that led into the parking garage of The Place, I bit the corner of my cheek to keep my jaw from dropping. This was the crème de la crème of buildings to live in, in San Diego. The Place appeared more exquisite in person than I’d seen it in magazines.
Ansel had been right about the level of security that guarded the tall building as well. I’d spotted a few guards roving around the building and had the sense that more men were in covert areas. The ones I’d spotted wore black and brown uniforms and were armed.
The smile on my face didn’t waver as I soaked in what would become my new surroundings.
The revitalizing brightness of the sun was being chased away by the thick concrete of the walls of the parking structure. We circled our way up to the second floor of the garage. I exited the vehicle when Ansel did. He retrieved my bag and walked around the car to escort me. My pace was a step below jogging as I kept up with his long strides, his fingers warming the small of my ba
ck as the elevators grew closer.
Deep, steadying breaths flowed from me, and my body was abuzz from his simple touch. When the bell alerted the elevator’s arrival, he ensured I entered first.
“The elevator we need can be accessed on the first and second floors. There are stairs in the event of a fire, but I’ve had that entry to my floor secured with a ten-digit pin and retinal scan,” Ansel volunteered.
“Yes, we’ll be the only ones on that floor,” he confirmed. He must have noticed my pinched brow as curiosity seeped through my pores.
The elevator didn’t move us up or down after he inserted the card. Instead, the doors slid apart on the opposite side.
We entered and passed through the quiet, well-decorated mezzanine area that overlooked the huge, bustling lobby area below. Front desk attendants plastered ready smiles on their faces, and a male attendant tipped an invisible hat at a couple that passed him. More security officers were visible inside the lobby.
Ansel and I strolled past the main set of elevators and turned into a short hallway decorated with a large fake plant and two large lithographs of splashed paints. When we reached a set of secure double doors, Ansel used his key card to enter the closed-off area located on the opposite side of where the main elevators were situated. Behind the secure doors were three additional elevators.
Using his keycard once more, Ansel punched in a six-digit pin to get the elevator to open. With a hand gesture, he insisted that I enter the middle elevator when it dinged open. I didn’t know what to expect, but my tension had long been eaten away by excitement.
Once we were inside, he inserted the key card and entered another pin. My crooked smirk remained, and I pretended I didn’t notice his eyes on me as we were lifted to the twenty-first floor.
The doors parted, and I enjoyed my first view of Ansel’s penthouse. My jaw dropped, and I couldn’t pick it back up. Ansel gave a quick wink before he stepped out of the elevator. I reveled in my stunned state for a minute before I forced my body to move.