Caught and Caged: A Dark Mafia Romance
Page 9
“Let me tell you something,” Korbin said. “I learned a lot from decades of building my empire. Never miss the opportunity to learn what makes the human animal tick. I’d be doing you a disservice if I simply gave you my opinion of her. She’s both complex and simple. Case in point, what is she doing right now?”
Lainey was back on the mattress with her knees bent. Her linked hands were between her legs, but it didn’t look like she was stimulating herself.
“She couldn’t have fallen asleep that fast,” Joe said. “Neither is she playing with herself. Maybe that’s because I didn’t leave her with anything still in the tank.”
“Don’t give yourself that much credit. She’s getting something out of where her hands are.”
“Satisfaction? No, I don’t think so.”
“She’s communicating with herself.”
Instead of responding, he replayed Korbin’s comment. Communicating? Was that any different from thinking? Maybe. As the last of the light faded to nothing, Joe leaned closer to his laptop. Her body appeared relaxed, at peace. Although she was alone with nothing to do but wait for her tormentor to return, she was far from tense.
“I gave her something she needs,” he said.
“What brought you to that conclusion?”
He’d probably never be comfortable around the insanely wealthy man, but he could deal with it. “One of the last things I did before I left was to tell her to take off her clothes. She didn’t object. Well, she cursed me, but she didn’t act like she was scared to expose herself.”
“Why do you think that is?”
What are you, a shrink? “Because she wants this relationship. At least a part of her does.” So do I.
Korbin grunted. “You’re a good cop, aren’t you?”
“I’ve been told I am. I often get pulled into interrogations.”
“Because you know what makes the bad guys tick. How to get past their macho BS.”
He again looked at the monitor, but there was nothing to see. Tomorrow night, if he was still working her, he’d leave a light on. “I’ve seen enough of it that it isn’t hard.”
“She’s a new subject all right, a different experience, but I have no doubt you’ll reach your goal. You have a powerful motivation.”
“Yeah. To identify and punish whoever killed my brother.”
“Here’s a warning from someone who has exacted enough of his own brand of revenge. Make sure there’s something left of you after you’re done. A reason to go on living.”
“I’ll put it on my list. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I owe you—so much.”
“I understand.” Compassion slipped into Korbin’s voice. “Why do you think I call my operation Judge and Jury? I understand how the need for revenge becomes all-consuming. When, at my discretion, I decide it’s justified, I do what I can to make it happen.”
“You’re one of a kind.”
“That I am. By the way, I had one of my men do some digging today because I figured you’d benefit from everything we can uncover about her. I’m sending you some more pictures.”
Before Joe could ask Korbin to explain, his cell phone dinged letting him know a text had arrived. Several other dings followed in quick succession.
“I can’t pay for a private detective.”
“I thought I made it clear that this isn’t about money. I have reason to despise everything Ethan Crowl stands for. Bring him down. Kill him if necessary. Oh hell, put a bullet between his eyes. We’ll come up with justification after.”
Chapter 7
Despite the lack of a clock, Lainey figured it had to be at least eight in the morning. She’d been awake for hours or more to the point, she’d never really fallen asleep. She’d peed and done what she could to wash up, but was starting to seriously want a shower followed, hopefully, by some clothes. The way the tail filled her was a constant agitation. Its presence had done something to her, dug through some layers, kept her turned on.
She’d never been a foodie. As long as what she ate was reasonably well-prepared, she was easy to please. However, focusing on some of the best meals she’d had gave her something safe to think about. Kept her captor’s memory from dominating. She was obsessing about a cheese omelet, bacon, and toast with real butter when the outer door opened and Joe walked in.
When he acknowledged her with a long, slow nod, her body did a strange thing with heat and cold. She’d never reacted like this to a man’s presence. No matter how much she tried to convince herself it was because she dreaded being under his control, she couldn’t lie to herself. He’d left his presence with her. Over the dark hours, that presence had grown. He was larger than she remembered, his features stern. He’d tucked a laptop under his arm and carried something in a Styrofoam container. She smelled bacon.
Swallowing, she watched as he placed his burdens on the table next to the recliner. Surprised because she felt no compulsion to try to cover herself, she stayed near the mattress.
“Where do you hurt?” he asked.
“What?”
“Your ass, I’m guessing. I didn’t go easy on you.”
Say something. Don’t let him know what you’re thinking. “If you cared you wouldn’t have thrashed me.”
“That wasn’t a thrashing. You needed to be spanked.”
“Why? Damn it, never mind. You won’t tell me.”
“Not yet, I won’t.”
She made the mistake of starting to stalk toward him which reminded her of the fullness in her ass. Last night had been all about him, his command of her.
It had been something else she hoped she could keep to herself, cracks in the walls she’d placed around herself. She hadn’t done enough to prepare for his presence. Wishing she could stop herself, she stroked her necklace.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“Nothing.” None of your business.
“I don’t believe you. For the record, I’ve learned some more about you.” He pointed at the laptop. “Additional pictures.”
“What? How did you get your hands on them?”
“From a reliable source. We’re going to talk about what they reveal, but not yet.”
Head high, she stared at him. The heat-cold was still flowing through her veins. Taking bites out of her intellect and threatening to turn her into something primal.
“Did you notice that?” He pointed at the ceiling.
Pulling her attention off him, she studied where he’d indicated. She should have known he’d equipped the room with a camera.
“It ran last night. I watched until it got too dark to see what you were doing.”
She was naked. Exposed. With her hands held before her and her bottom filled with proof of his ownership. Bars marked the extent of her world. It all came down to the fact that this big, rough man controlled every aspect of her being.
Her pussy tightened. It took all her will not to press her thighs together. She could barely get enough air into her lungs. “So?” she managed.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you slept with your hands between your legs.”
“So?”
“Why?” He approached the cage and gripped the bars. “Was it a byproduct of what happened between us yesterday?”
“Happened? You forced. I had no choice but to endure.”
“I don’t think so.”
Certain he had more to say, she waited, but he only continued to stare. His gaze started on her face then drifted south, taking in the choker necklace followed by her breasts. Her nipples hardened. Now fighting the urge to cover some part of her, she managed to stay upright while he studied his captive. Lack of food had flattened her belly, but her hips were still full, a woman’s hips. She had no doubt he could catch glimpses of the horse hairs and note how the plug kept her legs slightly apart.
She was an animal, maybe a brood mare about to be mounted by a stallion. He’d back her into a corner and force her to present her ass to him. When she had no way of escaping, he’d rear
and plow his cock into her.
What was she thinking!
“I have to go to the bathroom, but I can’t like this.”
“Yeah. I figured it would come to that.”
He reached into his pocket and withdrew a key which he used to unlock the cage. Telling herself she loathed not having a choice, she turned her back to him and leaned over. He cupped her buttocks, pressed and massaged while she struggled to regulate her breathing. Her ass was still sensitive from punishment, the sensation taking her back to the prior day. She’d spent the night telling herself she was glad he wasn’t around, but she’d lied.
Bit by bit, so slow she was afraid she’d lose her mind, he drew the plug out of her. The gesture was almost tender, gentle. They stayed like that, captive and captor, strangers united by something that didn’t need words.
How she wished they could really talk.
“There’s a real bathroom next to this room,” he said at length. “I’m going to take you there. Once you’ve used the toilet, I’ll let you have a shower.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He spun her around and pressed a finger under her chin making her look up at him. “Where did that come from?”
“Where did what come from?”
“It sounds like gratitude. You should be pissed.”
“Maybe.” She wasn’t sure how she felt about the emptiness in her bottom let alone her reaction to his dominating presence. She’d never felt so overwhelmed. Or so hungry for something she had no name for.
“Have you ever lost someone precious to you?” he asked.
“I—not really.”
“What about your father? He isn’t in your life, is he?”
“No. He, ah, my parents were never married. He sometimes paid child support but…”
“Do you wish it had been different?”
“I can’t miss something I never had.”
“It wasn’t like that for me.” He dragged in a long breath. “It might be better if it had.”
She wasn’t going to care about him, she wasn’t! “I really need to—”
“Yeah, that.”
Even though Joe didn’t give her enough time to take in the room adjacent to the one she’d been confined in, as Lainey settled herself on the toilet in an immaculate bathroom, she recalled an expanse of mostly cream colored space broken up by a minimum of furniture. A massive window had afforded her a brief view of the Pacific, the ocean a steely gray surrounded by early morning fog. Several lounge chairs had been set up near the beach. No one was out there.
“I could live in a place like this,” he’d said as he pushed her toward the bathroom. “With the windows open and the air smelling like heaven.”
So could I.
When she was done, she awkwardly wiped herself and stood. She wasn’t sure why he hadn’t removed her cuffs since it wasn’t as if she could overpower him. Maybe he liked seeing her confined. If that was the case, they had something in common.
“About the shower.” She jerked her head at the glass-enclosed shower. “Hopefully, you were serious.”
“I’m always serious.”
“I got that impression.”
He was doing it again, studying her. Giving her unspoken permission to do the same. There was no denying the difference between them, starting with the contrast between his casual outfit of shorts and T-shirt next to her nudity. He was close to a foot taller and maybe weighed a hundred more pounds. He carried himself with confidence, his gaze unrelenting. She shouldn’t let herself get hung up on his expression, should observe and learn, try to uncover a weakness in him, but so far she hadn’t seen any.
“Get in,” he said. “Everything you need should be in there.”
She held up her hands. “It’d be easier without the cuffs.”
He shook his head. “I don’t trust you.”
“What does trust have to do with anything?”
“Maybe it doesn’t.”
Believing the conversation wasn’t going anywhere, she turned on the shower. Once she had the generous spray at a comfortable temperature, she stepped inside. As she turned her back to him, she recalled her first real shower following her accident. It had hurt like hell, but she’d been so grateful to be alive she hadn’t cared.
Her captor was being kind this morning, a telling contrast to yesterday’s harsh treatment. That could change at any moment. If it did, she’d—what? Fight, maybe, not that it would do any good. Surrender?
The option fed thoughts of belonging to him. Of being his to punish or reward.
Would he want something like that? She could better answer if he’d reveal more about himself, but he’d thrown up a barrier between himself and his emotions. She did the same when it came to how deeply her accident had affected her.
Maybe that’s what they had in common. They both held secrets close to their hearts.
“I don’t have all day.”
She blinked until he came into focus. Her wet hair made seeing him difficult while the sound of water changed the timbre of his voice. As she shampooed her hair, suds slid over her skin making her butt feel slick. She imagined him pulling her ass cheeks apart to ensure that every part of her met his standards.
You’re losing your mind. Stop thinking you understand what he’s about.
“That’s enough.”
He reached in and turned off the water then snagged her hands and drew her out.
“What about a towel?” she asked.
She considered shaking her head to cover him in droplets. Not every moment of their relationship had to be serious. They could have fun, couldn’t they?
Muttering something she didn’t catch, he draped a large fluffy towel over her shoulders. Drying her body and hair with limited use of her hands was awkward. Either he could wait until she was done or force her to pick up the pace.
The second option made her toes curl.
“Back to where you came from,” he announced.
When it became obvious he wanted her to lead the way, she walked into what she’d decided had to be the living room. If this was her place, she’d arrange chairs to maximize the view of the ocean. When she started toward the picture window, he snagged the back of her collar and pulled her off balance.
Lesson learned and pulse taking an uptick, she continued toward the next room, the one containing her prison. Only when he locked the door behind them did it dawn on her that she hadn’t thought to ask about being given something to wear. Had she already become used to being naked around him?
“Don’t be in a rush to get in the cell,” he said. “First, we’re going to talk.”
When she faced him, he indicated he expected her to kneel near the recliner like she’d done the day before. Barely concerning herself with what the hard flooring would do to her knees, she settled in place. Her bottom felt empty. He’d barely touched her that morning. He was within reach. She could stroke his legs and let him know something she didn’t have words for.
Pointedly ignoring her, he accessed his laptop and spun it so she could see what he’d pulled up. It was another post-accident picture of her.
“He got it from your dentist,” Joe said. “It was taken about a year after the crash.”
“He?”
“It doesn’t matter. Fortunately, you don’t look like this.”
He was right. In the shot, her mouth was barely open, her expression guarded, defeated. The teeth she’d sacrificed to pavement had been replaced with ill-fitting dentures of random colors and sizes. She recalled all too well not being able to eat anything that called for much chewing. She’d hated wearing them because they’d made her gums raw. The only times she’d smiled was when she forgot what was in her mouth.
“No, I don’t.” She stopped looking at the picture because it brought back so many painful memories.
“Explain.”
“Explain what?”
“How you went from those godawful things to decent teeth. What you have now has to have cost
thousands.”
“They did.”
“Insurance?”
He was after something he considered vital, which meant she needed to guard what she said. It wouldn’t be easy because he was now looking at her, his attention on her throat, breasts, belly, and pubic hair. Something stirred in her gut.
“No,” she said.
“What then?”
What does it matter? “Ethan,” she answered, thinking that the truth was the easiest way to get this conversation over with. “He knew how uncomfortable the miserable dentures were. He knows an oral surgeon who is very good with implants.”
“And you were only too happy to take advantage of Ethan’s generosity?”
“Not at first.” She ran her fingers through her still-damp hair then stopped when it became clear that he was now focused on her breasts. “I didn’t want to feel beholden to him, but—what is this about? I don’t understand why you’d care.”
“Because I have to.”
There it was, another comment she needed to get to the root of. There was so much she didn’t understand about him.
“How much did they cost?”
“I don’t know.”
“The hell. I can’t fathom you giving Ethan a peck on the cheek and him letting it go at that.”
The thought of kissing Ethan twisted her stomach. “We don’t have that kind of relationship.”
“What kind do you have?”
Complicated. “You give a damn?”
He lurched forward until only a few inches separated them and snagged her hair. “I told you. There are things I have to do. Getting to the root of what Ethan Crowl is about stands at the top of the list.”
“All right.” She didn’t dare move. “From what I understand, the oral surgeon owed Ethan for something. According to what Ethan told me, this” —she tapped her front teeth— “erased the debt.”
“And you believe him?”
“I’m not sure.”
He relaxed his hold. “It sounds like you have doubts.”
“I do.” Why was she being so honest? How much did Joe’s lethal presence factor in? “I wouldn’t have taken him up on his offer except I dreaded going through life looking and feeling like I did after I’d healed enough to have teeth. The dentures were nearly as bad as having nothing. If that makes me greedy, so be it.”