In His Custody

by Morganna Williams

  Neither responded, and I walked back out into the Florida morning. It wasn’t quite muggy outside yet, but I hadn’t had a chance to shower or change. I hopped on the highway and bee-lined it straight for my house. I didn’t stop moving until the moment the warm water hit my skin. It was also at the moment I let my emotions take hold.

  I was going to miss Mindy greatly; her soft expressions, her caring, the way she submitted to me and trusted me completely. Was it odd to think I may have fallen in love with her in such a short time? I pounded on the tile wall of my apartment shower in frustration.

  I had composed myself again when I got out of the shower and changed clothes. Khakis were standard agent attire in Florida with a white button-down shirt. I’d relaxed the tie rule, as it was too stuffy in our office for such nonsense. With my black leather shoes back on, I was about to go back to the office when I heard a knock on my door. Opening up, I saw it was Agent O’Dell.

  I hadn’t expected this. “O’Dell, is everything okay? Why didn’t you call?”

  She handed me my phone. “It’d be tough to call someone without this.”

  Feeling dumb, I slid it into my side pocket. “That it would be.”

  “Are you okay, Leo?” The use of my first name registered genuine concern. I’d forgotten that O’Dell was a married mother of three and that her file stated she had a very strong sense of support to those on her team. It only made sense her nurturing instincts would take over.

  I nodded. “This case—everything about it is taking its toll on me. I can’t believe another body ended up on our watch.”

  She followed me out of my apartment as we continued to talk. “That’s not the worst of it. Besides dropping your phone back off, I wanted to tell you that Evans was able to get a name off of the Mona216 account. This isn’t good, sir.”

  “Shit,” I cursed. “How bad is it?”

  She didn’t want to say, that much was clear. The look in her eyes was one of resigned angst. “Mona Hyatt, sir. Bestselling erotic author; she lives over on the east side of town.”

  Even to someone like me who never picked up one of her books, the name stuck out. Women across the country loved the roleplaying aspects of her stuff and they flocked to it in large numbers each time a new book came out. Mona Hyatt—the reclusive author rock star. “Shit.”

  Agent O’Dell had taken the train to my place, so we just hitched it back to the office. She waited until the car was empty before asking anything more. “Knowing that a high profile target may be in danger, how should we proceed?”

  “Call her in.” Damnit, this wasn’t good. “Don’t mention anything about Dollface or how we located her.” The train began to slow down as we reached our stop. “The last thing we need is for her to post anything on social media causing a mass hysteria. The good Lord knows this city is on pins and needles as it is.”

  She was texting away on her phone and not even two seconds later, it responded back. “Evans, sir,” she called out. “He’s going to have local police go and escort her to our office. Felt that was the safest thing.”

  I looked out from the train platform to the high-rises that made up the city. “I don’t even know what’s safe anymore.” Breaking my gaze, she said, “Let’s go. We may have saved a life but there’s many more still in danger.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.”

  Mindy was so pretty… he sighed as he and his reflection watched her through the window by her fire escape. Silly girl, leaving the window unlocked but it wasn’t like this was the first time they visited. They watched her… enjoyed her escapades, the way she used the toy in the bedside table. It had been educational.

  It was past time… she’d been a naughty girl and it was time to pay the piper.

  His reflection pushed the window open and climbed in while singing to her a song from grunge-pop band, The Asshats.

  “Mindy, can I tell you a secret? I’ve been watching when you sleep and I’ve been watching you when you’re awake. What a bad girl you are! You can’t tell anyone else, even after you’re gone,” he sang as they climbed in through the window.

  Mindy screamed and tried to run but he threw the rock in his hand, hitting her in the head. Mama had always said he had a good arm.

  The girl hit the floor with a whimper and began frantically trying to get up while holding a hand to the side of her head. Her gray eyes got huge as his reflection moved a little closer while he held back a little to watch, feverish excitement growing inside him; he loved to watch this part.

  “No!” she tried to shout but fear had paralyzed her throat muscles and it was barely a whisper. She scrambled, getting her knees beneath her and stumbling back to her feet, but his reflection was there locking a hand around her ankle and jerking her back down hard.

  Mindy’s breath left her in a whoosh as her back and head hit the floor.

  His reflection winked at him then kept singing as he lowered himself over Mindy’s dazed body, her eyes looking up at him glazed with pain and confusion. “Mindy, can you keep a secret? You probably don’t want to hear this but, I’m going to say, I think it’s time.” The last line was delivered on a whisper as he silenced her screams with his hands around her throat.

  He retreated to the shadows as his reflection took care of Mindy while he watched as if from afar. Soon the spark in her eyes faded and it was time to step forward.

  He smiled down at her body as he pulled out his melon scoop.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Sex is as important as eating or drinking and we ought to allow the one appetite to be satisfied with as little restraint or false modesty as the other.”—Marquis de Sade

  The rest of the day had been a dumpster fire. That author refused to open the door for police and despite all of our attempts to contact her, she blocked them all. At six, I had enough. I dismissed my team and called it a night. Tomorrow was a new day and if we needed a damn warrant or motion to get her in our offices, we would.

  My apartment made me restless. I tried watching television, I tried reading, but nothing sated the hunger I felt growing. There was only one place to go and I resigned myself that I needed to go.

  Once there, I’d been sitting in my car for at least twenty, maybe thirty minutes. I could’ve gotten porn, or gone to a bar and gotten drunk, but The Red Room called my name. Maybe it was the lust building up inside of me that this place brought out. Maybe Mindy had unlocked something primal, feral within. Either way, I had a craving and it needed to be satisfied. Resolving myself, I opened the door and walked inside.

  The normal atmosphere of the club was going. There was a new girl at the bar, so I walked by all the couples as usual. I took a seat at the stool and the raven-haired girl with blue eyes came over. “Some of the girls told me to be on the lookout for a handsome stranger. Whiskey sour, right?”

  Immediately, a conspiracy was forming in my mind. “How did you know I would be the handsome stranger?”

  “You’re popular in here, even if you only ever came to see the last bartender. A few of the girls described you in perfect detail.”

  That made a bit of sense. My paranoia began to relax. “Yes, whiskey sour.”

  She brought one back quickly. As she walked back, I got a good look at her. She was wearing a plaid skirt that was very short, showing off her incredible thighs. Her shirt, a low-cut white blouse, showed off a good portion of her plump breasts. I was getting an erection just from the scenery. Then I tasted the whiskey sour—not the way Mindy made it but it would do.

  The girl nestled her elbows on the bar in front of me. “My name’s Vixen. What should I call you this evening?”

  “Just a drinking customer, that’s it,” I told her. My thoughts went back to Mindy and even though Vixen was very attractive, I wasn’t in the mood to seek the company of another.

  Vixen didn’t seem content with that answer. “Aww,” she pouted. “Are you sure I can�
�t interest you in a trip back to the room?”

  “Thank you, but whiskey sours are just fine.”

  Complying with my request, she kept them coming. As the night went on, the drinks started to get a bit stronger. Seeing my state of drunkenness getting further along, Vixen made another move. She came out from around the bar and looped her arm through mine.

  We ended up back in the room, even though this was the last place I wanted to be. As she sat me down, I was truly able to appreciate Vixen’s beauty. The outfit she was wearing did her complete justice. The way her breasts were clinging on for dear life under that top spoke of a woman who desperately needed a good spanking.

  I just didn’t think I was the man for the job. Not tonight.

  She bent over in front of me, her thong straining against that most delicious ass. “How can you deny a request from someone who’s been so naughty?”

  I tried to stand up, to excuse myself from the room. “Please,” I said sternly. “Tonight’s just not the night.”

  Vixen didn’t stop. “Am I not pretty enough for you?”

  “Of course you are.” Beauty wasn’t the question. Vixen wasn’t Mindy. As much as my body craved hers, to spank her, to appreciate every inch of that lovely butt, I wasn’t over that loss. “As I said before, just booze tonight.”

  She gave me the cutest of frowns. “Do I need to change my outfit? I hear you like a woman in thigh-high boots.”

  This time, when I stood, my feet stayed under me. “Vixen,” I said as I reversed roles on her. It was her turn to sit down. “One thing to never forget is that I’m in charge. Tonight’s not the night and that’s the end of the story, okay?”

  Apparently it wasn’t. She hooked her panties and slid them down over her legs, revealing a neatly trimmed pussy. “Are you sure I can’t tempt you with this untamed fruit?”

  I reached into my wallet and found a fifty spot. “You’ve put a lot of time and effort into me this evening. I don’t want you to feel as if you’ve wasted your time.”

  Before she could say anything else, I walked out of the room and called a taxi back to my apartment. When I found my bed, the loss of Mindy really hit me. No, not Mindy… Rachel.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Excerpt from Under His Hands by Mona Hyatt:

  “Please…” she begged breathlessly. “I promise I’ll be a good girl!”

  His hand slapped down twice more in quick succession before once again slipping down the cleft of her ass and into her wet heat to tease her clit. “A good girl? You’ve been nothing but naughty today, little girl. You earned this punishment.”

  “I’ve learned my lesson! Please… nooo…” she protested when he pulled his hand away from her needy slit.

  Again and again his hand fell across her upturned bottom, leaving it sore and throbbing but it couldn’t compare to the feeling in her clit. She needed to come so badly she actually hurt. “You earned this punishment, young lady, and I intend to see to it you get everything you deserve.”

  She couldn’t stop the loud moans as his hand began to slap her bottom right above her aching center. Each blow jolted her clit and drove her closer and closer to the edge; just when she thought she would explode, he stopped, making her wail with frustration. “Noooo! You can’t do this!”

  “Hide and watch, little girl,” he said; in response he delivered five hard swats to each sit spot and then lifted her to stand. “You go put that naughty little nose in the corner.”

  She gave a little whimper as she looked up at him; his stern countenance brooked no argument so she found herself hurrying to bury her nose in the indicated spot. Standing with her nose firmly planted only seemed to magnify the stinging heat in her backside and the demanding throb of her clit. She moaned and pressed her thighs together.

  “None of that, young lady, legs apart!” the command barked from directly behind her, made her jump and with another groan she spread her legs, embarrassed to know her arousal was literally dripping down the inside of her thighs.

  I sat back in my chair with a satisfied smile. I was sure my editor would like this section, all dominance and punishment… orgasm denial. I loved writing a good orgasm denial scene, they were so hot. Not that I was completely sure I wanted to experience it, but that level of dominance was definitely fun to write and to read.

  The little ding sounded and my clit jumped, responding to the little bell announcing a message on Facebook much like Pavlov’s dog. I laughed at the thought; it really wasn’t that much different—the dog slobbered and I got soaking wet.

  I clicked on the blinking bubble with a naughty grin; it was Gregor.

  Gregor: “Hello…”

  Mona216: “Hi.”

  Gregor: “Have you been a good girl today?”

  Mona216: “Yes, Sir.”

  Gregor: “More’s the pity. I would have enjoyed coming over and taking you to task.”

  I blinked, my stomach hitting my knees. We’d never discussed meeting in real life; I actually liked the safety of the computer screen. The thought of doing the things we did online for real was a heady thought. It was tempting but at the same time, reality was often disappointing. I wasn’t sure how ready I was to find out my fantasies wouldn’t translate well in the real world and yet…

  Gregor: “Mona?”

  Mona216: “Sorry, Sir… I was a little distracted.”

  Gregor: “You need my discipline so badly, don’t you.”

  Mona216: “Yes, Sir.”

  The doorbell rang, jarring me away from my online world.

  Mona216: “Sorry, Sir, someone is at the door. TTYL.”

  I hurried to the door, calling out when the bell rang again. “I’m coming!”

  I swung the door open wide, surprised to find two men in cheap suits standing on my doorstep.

  “Mona Hyatt?” the taller one asked.

  “Yes,” I said softly.

  “I’m SSA Langston and this is SA Durant; we need you to come with us to headquarters to discuss a serious matter,” Langston said, showing me his FBI badge.

  “What does the FBI want with me?” I asked rather incredulously.

  “We are not at liberty to discuss it with you, ma’am, someone will explain everything once we get to headquarters,” Durant told me. “If you’d just come with us now.”

  I frowned. “What if I don’t have time right now?”

  “I’m afraid we will have to insist, ma’am,” Langston said sternly.

  I sighed. “Let me grab my purse.” As I grabbed my things I wondered what the hell was going on that the FBI needed to talk to me. “Can you tell me what this is concerning?”

  “SSA Jackson is in route from the airport and he’ll explain everything when he arrives,” Langston told me as he led me from my apartment.

  “Who is SSA Jackson?” I asked with an arched brow.

  “You’ll be introduced as soon as he arrives,” the agent told me.

  “I’m so glad you cleared that up,” I said haughtily as I climbed into the car with the two taciturn agents. Their vague answers to my questions were really getting on my nerves.

  The vague twins drove me to the Tampa FBI office in total silence; it was the most annoying situation I had ever found myself in but the author in me took it all in for future story fodder.

  Once there I was seated in a stark empty room with a long metal table and a couple of chairs. I guess I’m in solitary confinement, I thought with no little irritation, these people had some nerve, ripping me from my home with little to no explanation… was I being renditioned?

  It seemed like eons had passed and by the time the new bad suit walked in the door, I was spoiling for a fight.

  The man smiled. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Hyatt. I’m SSA Leo Jackson.”

  “It’s Ms. Hyatt and why am I here? Have I been deported? Have you decided I’m the master mind behind a plot to assassinate Mickey Mouse?” I asked scathingly.

  One brow rose sardonically as he studied me through narrowed eyes
assessingly. Something about the way he was looking at me made me want to fidget but I took a deep breath and forced myself to raise a brow back at him as I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “No, ma’am, but I have good reason to believe you are the target of a serial killer that has been stalking Facebook BDSM groups for women willing to play online,” Agent Jackson said baldly.

  I felt a flush of heat begin at my neck and slowly creep up into my face. I swallowed before saying flippantly, “Why in the world would you think this killer has targeted me?”

  The galling man crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back against the wall as he cocked one leg over the other then turned his head to the side to watch me with a knowing stare.

  I blinked at him, trying to brazen it out but the odious man just continued to stare at me in silence until I was fidgeting in my seat, my face growing more and more heated with every second that ticked by. I managed to keep my mouth shut until that damn eyebrow quirked up at me once more.

  “Fine! I’ve been to a few of the BDSM secret rooms for research purposes! I am a writer of erotica after all,” I sniffed disdainfully. “I still don’t see why you would think this person is after me.”

  “Because, my dear Ms. Hyatt,” Agent Jackson said, deliberately enunciating the Ms. and making a long ‘z’ sound that made me want to slap the knowing smirk off his face. “You’ve been in those secret rooms a lot and have spent a lot of time talking to more than one suspect. I need to see your chat logs from messenger on all the contacts you’ve made in those rooms.”

  I jumped from my chair in outrage. “Absolutely not! You have no right. Those are personal!”

  “My, my, my, young lady, but that is quite the vehement protest for a woman only doing research,” he said drolly.

  A choked sound escaped me as I felt fresh color heat my face. I’d blushed more in the ten minutes since I met this odious man than in all the rest of my life combined. “I will not give you access to my messenger account.”