I Spy a Dark Obsession sa-3

by Jo Davis

  The limo arrived, stopping under the awning at Shakers. She wasn’t easily impressed by wealth, but she had to admit it was pretty cool going out for an evening on the town in such a fine ride. The necessity of the fortified vehicle and armed escort trailing at a discreet distance didn’t escape her, but she planned to enjoy herself to the fullest.

  Blaze and Emma were waiting just inside the club, and Katrina beamed at them. “You guys look terrific!” The couple was striking in matching leather outfits of deep purple, perfect for a night at the club. While Blaze wore pants, Emma wore a short skirt that showed off her long, toned legs, and a snug tank top.

  “So do you!” Emma called, giving her a hug. Blaze kissed her on the cheek.

  “Oh, thanks.” She felt slightly out of place in her staid black pants, though she’d attempted to make her outfit more fun by wearing a thin, gauzy blouse and black bra underneath. It wasn’t as if she went clubbing a lot, so her clothing was more suited to dinner at a nice restaurant.

  “Hey, guys!” Emma greeted her bosses, followed by Blaze. “Drinks? We reserved a table in the corner.”

  “Lead the way,” Bastian said.

  Blaze showed them to a darkened corner where they could observe the action but were mostly hidden. They took their seats at a circular table, Blaze and Emma on one side, Katrina between her dates on the other. Katrina noted again the chain that Emma called her collar resting at the woman’s throat, and wondered what it would be like to be “owned” by a man in that way. Though she liked some kink, the D/s lifestyle wasn’t for her. But she’d be really happy to belong to someone special.

  Or two someones.

  A server hurried over and they ordered a round of drinks, settling into lively conversation. An outsider would never guess that her dates were everyone’s bosses; they were so fun to be with — once they decided to let go of their differences for the evening and let their hair down.

  Blaze was sort of a nut, which was a far cry from the tough agent she’d infrequently glimpsed at work. While they sipped their drinks, he kept them entertained with stories of ops gone FUBAR, with the other two men chiming in on occasion. With his shoulder-length, dark hair, chiseled face, and muscular build, he was quite handsome. But he couldn’t hold a candle to Michael or Bastian.

  “You did not put a millipede in Ozzie’s sleeping bag,” Emma admonished her lover, referring to fellow agent Dean Osborne.

  Blaze shrugged. “Hey, they’re big and ugly, but harmless — unless you kill yourself getting away from one. You shoulda seen the guy dancin’ around, screamin’ like he was being skewered by Freddy Krueger.”

  Emma smacked the big man on the arm. “That is so mean!”

  “Speaking of dancing.” Bastian drained his martini and stood, holding out a hand for Katrina. “Would you like to?”

  “As long as you’re all recovered from the wreck,” she said. A small, flesh-colored bandage on his forehead peeked from under a fall of blond hair. “I don’t want you to overdo it.”

  “Oh, I think we both know how recovered I am. Please?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Michael asked, frowning.

  She grabbed Bastian’s offered hand and they ignored the other man’s question. “In that case, yes!”

  As he guided her to the dance floor, she caught Michael’s stare. He always appeared so controlled and distant that the fierce hunger in their dark depths surprised her, sent a shaft of awareness zinging through her body. Did he know what she and Bastian had almost done? Would he be angry? Or possibly turned on? Then Bastian tugged her through the crush, onto the floor, and the connection was severed.

  The warmth, however, remained. Stoked to arousal as she and Bastian faced each other, they began to move to the throbbing beat of the music. It was a driving number with sexual lyrics, a standard club tune, but there was nothing common about the way her partner’s hips swiveled to the tempo. His body swayed with fluid grace, suggestive. Mesmerizing.

  The man had missed his calling as a porn star. He had the moves and the beauty, that touch of soiled innocence she found difficult to resist. Had she thought him an angel? Perhaps one with a slightly crooked halo. She’d dearly love to learn just how far he’d fallen from grace.

  Her thoughts must’ve been telegraphed to him somehow, because he reached out and pulled her flush against his body, sealing them together from chest to groin without breaking his rhythm. She’d dirty danced once or twice, but never had she felt as though a man was made to fit against her. His lean, hard muscles were so good under her hands, so right. His sexy mouth was tilted up at the corners, those bottle green eyes shining with amusement, as if he had a wicked little secret and was waiting for her to discover it.

  The impressive erection digging into her stomach, however, was no mystery. His desires were clearly communicated, but whether he’d ever finish what she’d started was the question. Maybe he felt funny about playing with an employee. Maybe not.

  Returning his look, grinding against him with the beat, she silently gave him her vote.

  She had about a dozen queries on her mind, things she’d love to ask him about himself. She’d really love to know more about his bisexuality, his experience. Whether or not he was seriously seeing anyone, though the vibe he was sending off said no. It was just as well that the loud music made conversation almost impossible, because his personal relationships were none of her business. Much as she wished differently.

  Just as they found their groove, a hard male form pressed into her from behind. Twisting to see the newcomer, she smiled at Michael and then continued to dance. Nothing fired her blood like being in the very position she’d dreamed of, even if they weren’t all naked. Being sandwiched between them felt very right, as though she was a lone puzzle piece that finally found her matches.

  One erection rode low on her belly, the other her ass. Oh, God. Arousal heated her sex and she wanted so badly for their clothing to vanish, it drove her nearly insane. Michael’s hands skimmed her arms and then one pushed her hair aside. Soft lips nibbled her bare neck. She groaned, but neither man could hear.

  Body language was more effective than words, anyway. Simpler. Usually, people couldn’t mess up a good time by keeping their mouths shut. It was when the mouth engaged that things sometimes went south. She should know.

  So she was content to ride the waves of delight swelling higher with every thrust and gyration. Music and sensuality swept her away so that she was hardly aware of Michael maneuvering his way in front of her, edging Bastian to the side, until she found herself staring into dark eyes. Michael’s hands molded to her waist, and she twined her arms around his neck, pulling him as close as possible. Which meant they were stuck together like glue.

  After a couple more songs, he leaned over and spoke in her ear loud enough to be heard over the music. “Want to get some air?”

  Her heart beat a bit faster and she nodded. There was no mistaking the very male triumph on his face as he took her hand and led her through the throng. It occurred to her that Bastian had disappeared from their vicinity, and as Michael led her past their table on the way out, she saw the other man sitting with Emma and Blaze, toying with another martini. When had he left? Guilt assailed her to see him sitting with their friends, yet looking so… alone.

  But it’s not like we asked him to leave us. I certainly would have liked for him to stay.

  Maybe he simply hadn’t wanted to hang around, or he was more tired than he was willing to admit. He was a grown man, for God’s sake, and he could do as he pleased.

  The pep talk didn’t completely ease the feeling that a piece was missing as she and Michael stepped outside into the night. Still, she basked in the presence of the man at her side, certain that her life was about to change in a significant way — for the better.

  Linking their fingers, they strolled along the sidewalk companionably. She noted he kept them to the shadows, placed his solid bulk between her and the street. The reason caused a shiver of fear tha
t threatened to ruin the wonderful mood, and she scanned the surrounding area.

  “Michael, this probably isn’t the best idea.”

  “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” His hand squeezed hers, then released it so he could slide his arm around her waist.

  “It’s not me I’m worried about. You were nearly killed while out with friends just a few weeks ago.” Turning her head, she studied him. “In a situation very much like this.”

  “I wasn’t prepared then. I am now.” His expression was unreadable. “This very second, we’re surrounded by security, though they seem invisible. If Dietz or anyone working for him makes a move right now, he’s ours.”

  The absurdity of the situation hit her, and she couldn’t help but give a short laugh. “You romantic, you. Who would’ve guessed?”

  He chuckled. “I try.” They walked a bit farther in comfortable silence, and she wondered at his life. “Is it always like this for you?”

  “Like what?”

  “The danger,” she said softly. “Always having to watch your surroundings. Taking agents along for a simple evening out. Never knowing when one of your enemies might finally succeed in bringing you down.”

  He considered it for a moment. “I was always cautious before Robert turned traitor, but it was never like this. I’ve had security in place at my estate since I established SHADO, but the measures were merely precautionary. The hit Robert put out on me was unprecedented, and once he’s neutralized, life should return to normal.”

  She hadn’t missed the harsh emphasis he’d put on the word neutralized. “You mean killed or taken into custody?”

  “Locking him up didn’t work out so well before,” he said with a hint of bitterness. “So stone-cold fucking dead works for me.”

  “Mr. President will have something to say about his punishment, since it was the government’s weapon Dietz stole.”

  “He already spoke. Bastian and I have full authority to stop the bastard however we see fit. And I intend to use that authority to put him in the ground.”

  “I see.”

  He frowned. “You don’t approve.” It wasn’t a question.

  “I can’t approve of killing, no matter how badly a man deserves it. But it’s not my call, and the idea of Dietz leaving this earth isn’t what bothers me most.”

  “Then what does?” Michael studied her in puzzlement.

  “How big a scar your vendetta against him is going to leave on your soul.”

  “Mine? I didn’t start this little war, but I’ll damned well finish it. Where he’s going, he’s the one who ought to worry about his soul, not that he owns one for the devil to take.”

  Just like a man to think in black and white, regardless of the personal price.

  “Hearing you talk that way… concerns me. I’m afraid your hatred will blind you to the danger or affect your judgment, and that scares me for you.”

  “I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.”

  “Neither. It’s not a slam against your ability to get Dietz, which I have no doubt you will.” She gave him an earnest look. “It’s a question of how much of you will survive the bloodshed.”

  “I never knew you cared about me.” He sounded pleased about that idea.

  “You miss a lot of signals from those around you,” she said, thinking not only of herself, but also of Bastian. “Or you ignore them.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes.”

  As they reached the end of the building, he pulled her around the corner and down the alley a fair distance from prying eyes. Pushing against her, he backed her into the brick wall, placing his palms on either side of her head. He leaned close, his lips almost touching hers.

  “Tell me, Katrina… am I getting the signal scrambled now?” His eyes were dark pools, his body hot as he pressed close. “Do I need to back off?”

  Oh, God. How she’d wanted this. But what about Bastian? “No, but—”

  “That’s a yes or no question.”

  Her nipples tingled and her pussy warmed. “Your men—”

  “Won’t say a word. Yes or no?” Lightly, he brushed her lips with his.

  “What was the question?” She was only half kidding. The man made her insane, all common sense drowned in a flood of desire. But he was serious, waiting for an answer. “There’s nothing wrong with your powers of deduction, but if you need me to be perfectly clear — kiss me, dammit, before I die from the wait.”

  He dove in, lips capturing hers hungrily, tongue delving inside. She moaned and leaned into the kiss, reveling in his taste, thinking, At last. Every sensitive part of her cried out for his touch, his taste. Sinking into him was like coming home.

  Before she could dwell on that feeling too much, rough fingers plucked at her nipples through the thin fabric of her blouse and the bra underneath. Hitching the edge of the material, she took his wrist and moved his hand underneath, placed it on her stomach, nudged it upward. Taking the hint, he cupped one breast, rubbed his thumb over the taut nub through the silk. Then he deftly flicked the front clasp and spilled her into his questing hand.

  Arching into him, she marveled at how good it felt to be bared to him. How much better if there was no clothing at all to get in the way. Breaking the kiss, he bent and nuzzled her hair, whispering into her ear.

  “Jesus, you’re so soft. Are you silky all over?” His palm skimmed downward. “Are you smooth, perhaps hot and wet?” His journey paused at the button of her pants.

  “Why don’t you find out?” She could barely keep from panting as he undid the fastening, parted the material.

  His hand slid over her mound, through the small rectangle of curls to her folds, and he practically rumbled in pleasure. “Mmm. Totally bare except for this little soul patch right here. Damn, I wish I had you in my bed right now.”

  “We could go,” she suggested breathlessly, spreading her legs in contradiction of her words. Opening herself.

  “But do you really want to stop right now?”

  “No! Please, I need…”

  His low, sexy laugh curled through her blood, but it was his skilled touch that set it to boiling. Unhurried fingers rubbed her slit, dipped between the folds to discover the moisture there. Evidence of her rising desire. They spread the dewy wetness to her clit and lingered, stroking and teasing the little bud, sending tiny shock waves of delight to her limbs. Then two fingers entered her channel, fucked her slowly. Filling her — but not enough.

  “You need more, sweetheart?” His smug tone hinted that he already knew the answer.

  “Yes, please.” She squirmed, arching into his hand.

  “I want to taste you first. Okay?”

  She nodded, belatedly realizing he might not be able to see her gesture in the darkness. And he’d asked for her permission every step of the way, something she appreciated.

  “God, yes.”

  Kneeling, he took down her pants and lacy underwear, helped her out of them, leaving her wearing nothing from the waist down but her black heels. “Beautiful,” he murmured, kissing her mound. “All mine. I’ll bet the men who are watching us are jealous as hell.” His tongue flicked her clit. “Does that turn you on?”

  Did he mean turned on by having sex in public, knowing his men were playing voyeur, or by his glorious mouth? Yes to both, she decided, but her response was lost in a moan of pleasure as his fingers spread her and he began to bathe her slit. He licked her juices as though he’d found a tasty treat, swirling and flicking, the light touch driving her insane.

  More. Threading her fingers through his sable hair, she urged him to take more. Deeper. Taking the hint, he tongue-fucked her until she nearly melted into the brick wall holding her up — and almost died of sheer bliss when he latched on to her clit and suckled it without mercy.

  “Oh! Michael!”

  He took her expertly to the edge and then stopped, released her, and pushed to his feet. Cruel man. She made an unintelligible noise of protest, but he ju
st gave a low laugh, turning her to face the wall.

  “Spread your legs and brace yourself, beautiful.” She did, and a finger trailed down her spine, causing her to shiver. “I’m going to fuck you from behind, hard and deep. Unless you want me to stop?”

  “Don’t you dare!”

  “That’s my girl.”

  How she wished. One steamy encounter didn’t mean he belonged to her, and there was his best friend to consider, but she’d contemplate the consequences later. At the moment she couldn’t think straight with him behind her, rustling around, obviously getting ready. A telltale crinkle of foil reached her ears, and then he guided the blunt head of his cock to her pussy. Pressed inside, stretching, filling her to the limit. She gasped, thinking she felt him all the way to her toes, owning every part of her.

  Slowly, he buried himself balls-deep and held there for a few seconds. She savored the connection, his cock finally where she’d wanted it to be for God knew how long. His body covering hers, he began to thrust in long, tight movements.

  “You’re holding back,” she said, tilting her hips out to meet him.

  “Don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t. Give it to me hard.”

  His voice betrayed his surprise. “Like it a little rough, huh? Never knew you were such a dirty girl under that poised exterior.”

  “You know it now. Do it.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I like to play rough sometimes, too. Maybe sometime I’ll show you my special toys.”

  And she’d imagined him self-contained when it came to sex! But she couldn’t answer because he complied in spades, withdrawing almost completely — then ramming home so forcefully she had to spread her hands wider and grip the brick wall to remain steady. Groaning at the delicious assault, she could only hang on for the wild ride as he gave her what she’d asked for.

  So fine, his rod pistoning in and out with abandon. Fucking her the way she loved, with the power few lovers would exert over her, no matter how she begged them.