by Amy Valenti
“There’s a seriously hot chick,” Santoro added, tilting his head to the side as if that would enable him to get a three hundred and sixty degree view.
Wait. I know that face… I scowled at the screen, recognition clicking into place in my mind.
“And there’s Santoro’s hot chick picking Sam Leigh’s pocket.” Layton glanced over at me. “We can get Faye to clean up the image, get a possible ID?”
“I already know her ID.” That got the team’s attention, and they remained silent, waiting for more. I gave them the bare minimum. “Laura Morgan.”
In my peripheral vision, I was dimly aware of someone stopping dead in their tracks, then changing course to approach. Glancing over, I recognised Faye Tate, one of our forensic specialists. She was the most efficient and the most beautiful, though I’d never breached the precinct’s protocol in order to ask her out.
I was gonna have my hands full enough with the woman who’d shown up in my case’s security footage.
“You know her, boss?” Layton asked.
“Uh-huh…” I stared at the image of the tall brunette, remembering times past and wondering exactly what else she’d been hiding from me back then.
“Let me guess,” Santoro said. “Gotta be an ex-girlfriend.”
“Yup.” They were gonna find out anyway.
Might as well get the revelation over with so they can focus on the case, rather than my romantic connection to Laura.
“Layton, pull me up her phone number—I don’t have it on me.”
As Layton obediently began to tap information into his computer, an interruption came from an unexpected quarter. “Cancel that order, Layton. I have her on speed-dial.”
Now Faye had my attention. She leaned against Santoro’s desk, toying with her cell phone and avoiding my gaze, and my mind came up with an idea I hoped like hell wasn’t true.
Santoro beat me to the question. “How do you have Pierce’s ex’s number, Faye?”
She shrugged. “If you have the security tape of the dance floor, you’ll see.”
Layton switched to another tape, which showed the bar area and part of the dance floor. I transferred my suspicious glare from Faye to the screen and, in silence, we all watched Laura enter the picture, tucking something into her purse before grabbing the arm of a familiar, red-headed figure.
Faye.
While her image on-screen turned with a smile and hugged Laura, Faye stepped away from the team, hitting speed-dial and raising the phone to her ear. Quietly, she spoke to Laura, her voice a murmur I couldn’t quite make out.
“Ahh.” Empathetic as always, Erica Beaumont was the first to catch on, and she shot a sidelong glance at me, which I chose to ignore. Before my eyes, Laura and Faye headed onto the dance floor, beginning to move together in a dance that began as flirtatious, then became teasing, then overtly sensual.
I hardly needed to look over at Santoro and Layton to know they were both acting as though Christmas had come early. If it wasn’t for the fact I knew both of the women involved, I’d probably have found the wonderstruck expressions on my male cops’ faces amusing.
The whole team knew Faye was bisexual—when we’d all gone for drinks on Santoro’s birthday last year, she’d brought a female date. I didn’t get how Santoro and Layton could react exactly the same way today as they had then, but I had bigger things to worry about.
Faye ended the call just as the tape showed her pulling Laura into an almost possessive kiss. With an impatient growl, I rounded on her. “Stairwell, Faye. Now.”
She hesitated, then nodded. Without waiting for her to move, I took off at a stride, trying to quell the conflicting emotions demanding my attention without identifying any of them.
Behind me, Faye plucked the remote from Santoro’s hand and gave it to Beaumont with a pleading smile. “Do me a favour? Analyse the footage, but don’t let them—”
“Overanalyse? Don’t worry, Faye.” I glanced back to watch Beaumont give her a knowing nod. Before anyone could begin to bombard her with questions, Faye took a deep breath and walked towards me.
We waited in silence for the stairwell door to close behind us, then I stepped forward, invading her personal space to scowl down at her. “You know she was my ex when you started dating?”
“We met the night you two split up,” Faye said, scuffing one boot against the concrete floor. “Laura was crying into her drink, and I asked her what was wrong. She told me she’d split up with someone, and I offered her a sympathetic ear, but it was nearly an hour before I figured out it was you, Zach, I swear.”
Exasperated, I verbally pushed her. “But you started a relationship with her anyway.”
“Why not?” Her voice was slightly rebellious. “You didn’t want her anymore. And don’t tell me you’ve never hit on a girl who’s on the rebound, just because she’s too pretty to be hurting alone?”
I had, and she probably knew it, but it wasn’t what I wanted to talk about—there were way more pressing issues at hand. “What did she tell you, Faye?”
She couldn’t stop herself smiling through her irritation. “Nothing bad that I hadn’t already figured out about you. I learned some interesting new things, though…”
My gut twisted, and I prayed I was wrong.
If she knows…
I had no idea what I’d do then. “And you didn’t think to stop her out of courtesy to me?”
My confrontational tone just pissed her off. “Zach! She didn’t use your name until she’d started to repeat herself—how was I supposed to know she meant you?”
She had a good point, which irritated me even more. Forcing myself to calm down, I waited a few seconds before asking the vital question. “She tell you where we met?”
The air seemed to thicken with tension, and Faye’s eyes widened with sudden understanding. Even before she gave a brief nod, I saw it coming, and I cursed under my breath, backing off to give us both space while I processed the situation.
“So you know.” This was the one thing I’d planned never to reveal to her. My feelings for Faye were so complex that most days I couldn’t make sense of them, but I’d always known I wanted her. I’d kept it hidden for a long time, partly because she was a close friend and co-worker, but mostly because of the way I wanted her. Countless times I’d imagined her kneeling at my feet, waiting for me to subvert her to my will.
Now she knew I had those tendencies inside me, it would be harder to resist the urge to act on them. Things had just got a hundred times more complicated than I’d ever wanted.
I couldn’t look her in the eye…until her slightly amused response shocked me into it. “That you’re a Dominant? Zach, I’ve known that since the first day I met you. What I can’t figure out is how I’ve never seen you around at Rack and Ruin in all the time I’ve been going there.”
As she named the bi-monthly fetish night at Club Alterna, I could only stare at her slightly lifted brows and the smile that played about her lips. Right then, I was so far out of my comfort zone I had no idea how to react. “You go there regularly?”
Faye shrugged casually. “On and off. Sometimes I’ll be there every time for a few months, then I stop for a while. It was my first night there in nearly three months when I ran into Laura.”
“You met her there? Faye, are you topping my ex-submissive?” The question fell from my lips before I could stop it, the slow smoulder of jealousy at the back of my mind roaring into an inferno.
“I didn’t play with her that first night—she was way too over-emotional!” Faye said defensively.
“Not the point, Faye.”
“Then what is the point?” she demanded, frustrated. “I mean, how can you act so crazy when Laura says it was only casual between the two of you?”
I didn’t know how to answer her. The fact she was topping Laura made me a little jealous, but Faye was right—we had only been seeing each other casually, and it didn’t affect me as much as the other side of the coin did. Telling her my jealousy
was double-edged would only complicate matters, but the thought whispered through my mind nevertheless.
You should have been mine.
It was ridiculous—I had no way of knowing if she was as sexually submissive as I sometimes imagined she was, and it wasn’t my place to ask, but the confirmation that she was on the local BDSM scene was enough to make me possessive. Sometimes I had trouble remembering I could only control her as part of our working relationship, and even then, only to a point.
Instead of answering her question, I asked, “Did you manage to call her in?”
“Yeah. We were meeting for lunch anyway, at the bistro down the street. I just moved the time forward a little. We should go if we’re gonna make it.”
Is it serious between you?
I couldn’t ask—as much as I hated to admit it, I didn’t want to hear the answer. Instead, I nodded curtly. “The rest of the team don’t need to know this, understand? I used to date Laura, and you’re dating her now. That’s all the background they need.”
“Got it,” Faye said with an ironic mini-salute.
The opening was just too tempting to pass up. “No ‘Sir’, Faye?”
Grinning, she started down the stairs. “I don’t submit easily.”
Faye
During the short walk to the bistro, Pierce got around to asking the question that mattered. “Did you know Laura was a pickpocket?”
I shook my head, thinking back over the past couple of months. “She never acted suspiciously around me…even when she had Leigh’s wallet in her purse. She lifts his wallet, and now he’s dead? It could be a coincidence…”
“No such thing.” I’d been pretty sure he was gonna say that. “You go on ahead and meet with her. I’ll wait a couple of minutes, then join you.”
“You think she’ll run if she gets spooked?” I kinda doubted it, but I was the scientist, not the cop.
“She can try,” he said, almost to himself.
I watched him thoughtfully. There was a tension in him I’d rarely seen before—it was as if he was carefully holding back what he really wanted to say.
I wanted him to question me about the things I’d revealed to him that day. I wanted him to ask if I submitted as well as topped, and how often that happened. I wanted him to tell me about his involvement in the local scene, about his kinks and desires, about what he looked for in a submissive. Okay, I probably didn’t fit the bill, but I could dream, at least…
But instead he was shutting me out. He hadn’t acted this reserved around me since the first month I’d worked at the precinct. I didn’t know what he was afraid of, and until this was over and done with, it wasn’t a good time to ask. So I focussed on the plan instead, lengthening my stride to put distance between us.
Within a minute, the bistro came into view, and a familiar figure was waiting by the door. The dark-haired, curvaceous woman smiled as I approached, stepping forward to hug me. “Ready for peach pie and ice cream?”
Returning Laura’s embrace, I forced myself to act normally, though the thought of food turned my stomach. “Definitely.”
While Laura headed for the door, I glanced back down the street, relieved to see Pierce approaching slowly. He nodded encouragement and I shot him a brief, anxious smile before following my submissive inside.
I took a seat across a small table from Laura, who was watching me with concern. “Are you okay? You look a little worried.”
“That’s one way of putting it, I guess. Work’s a little confusing right now.”
One of the things I really liked about Laura was that she didn’t act overly submissive unless we were in a scene. She was mostly talkative and laid-back, though her wit occasionally had bite. Picking up her menu, she rolled her eyes. “Let me guess. Zach’s running you into the ground again.”
Frowning a little at her obvious disdain, I shook my head. “Actually, no. I haven’t even started the forensics yet.”
“But you have time for an early lunch? Must be an interesting case.” Laura’s expression was curious.
“Yeah… I can’t tell you much, but a businessman turned up dead, and it wasn’t pretty.” I didn’t mention the vicious beating the guy had received before he died—it wasn’t the kind of detail I was authorised to repeat during an open investigation. Especially not this open investigation.
“Maybe you’d know him, Laura?” Pierce’s voice made me jump—I’d known he was coming, but I hadn’t even heard him approach. “Name’s Samuel Leigh.”
Laura’s eyes widened, then her expression became guarded as she looked from him to me, and back again. “What is this?”
“Need to talk to you about his death. Let’s go over to the precinct, where it’s a little more private.” Pierce’s eyes were hard as he watched his ex, and that was more intriguing than I liked to admit. Something was going on in his head, but I couldn’t fathom exactly what. Yet.
“I’ve never even heard of him. You can’t force me to go anywhere.”
Pierce held his badge out towards her, his face impassive. “I can legally detain you for questioning.”
“On what grounds?” she snapped. “I know my rights.”
Wow, she’s defensive. I’d never seen her like this. “Laura…”
She sighed, speaking for our ears only. “Faye, don’t Mistress me outside the bedroom. That’s not what we negotiated.”
Taken aback, I stared at her. That had been the furthest thing from my mind, and, if she didn’t know that, we had a serious problem.
Before I could speak, Pierce intervened. “On the grounds that we have surveillance footage of you stealing his wallet the night before his death.”
She was beaten, and she knew it. With a sigh, Laura glared at me and got to her feet. “This better not take long. I have a meeting at two.”
While she gathered her jacket and purse, Pierce touched my shoulder, leaning in close to murmur, “Careful. She’s playing you.”
Before I could process that, he followed Laura outside. A million questions flitting through my mind, I brought up the rear, shooting an apologetic look at the confused waitress hovering nearby.
Exactly who was the girl I’d been seeing for the past few weeks? And what side of her had Pierce seen that I hadn’t?
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About the Author
Amy Valenti is a tarnished tease, and her mind has lived in the gutter since the day she realised what sex was. She hails from England, which she doesn’t find quite as exotic and sexy as the average US citizen seems to, but if people want to compliment her on her accent, that’s all fine with her! Her muses are many, fickle and very demanding.
She has a degree in creative writing and currently works as a proofreader/copy editor. In her free time, she reads, writes and plays videogames. On the rare occasions she doesn’t have a laptop on her knee, she loves to curl up with friends and pets – and chocolate – for TV show and movie marathons.
Email: [email protected]
Amy loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.
Also by Amy Valenti
Dominance and Deception
Shocked
Always the Quiet Ones
Battle of Thrills
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