by KD Robichaux
“Don’t even think about it, man,” I tell him.
His eyes shimmer as he takes it into his hands, lifting the site to his eye. “But—”
“But nothing. You have plenty. The one you have in the truck makes that one look like a paintball gun,” I remind him.
“One cannot have ‘plenty’ when speaking of weaponry. Have I taught you nothing?” he asks, even as he sets the rifle back in its place.
Instead of crawling back out the window, we save time by exiting through the door nearby after making sure no one had shown up in the few minutes we’d been inside. When we’re back in the truck, Corbin pulls up the directions on the GPS. As we’re exiting the warehouse district through the gates, a call rings through the Bluetooth.
“Seth, whatcha got?” I ask after pushing the Answer button on the steering wheel.
“I have visuals on this fucker at the airport. He’s there and about to take off. Get your asses there immediately,” he states, and I punch the gas.
“We’re one mile out,” I growl, and Corbin unbuckles his seat belt, climbing over the center console to the back seat. “Little problem, Seth. Even if we take him out, he’s obviously got a hacker on his team. We’re gonna need to find—”
“Already on it, bro. He may be good, but he ain’t me. I’ve almost got the encryption decoded that’s scrambling his IP address, which would lead directly to his location. Also, you and Corb have been completely erased from the warehouse district’s security feed. You were never there.” Excitement fills his voice and I shake my head with a cautious smile.
“I knew we kept you around for a reason,” I tell him, adrenaline pumping through my veins as signs for the airport come into view.
“There’s a back road that runs parallel with the section for private planes. With Corbin there, you won’t have to get handsy like you tend to prefer. I’d go one shot, one kill on this bad boy,” he tells me. “With him already on the jet, we don’t want to take any chances of him getting away.”
As much as I’d love to have words with the fucker who killed my fellow soldiers and injured even more, not to mention the ones who’ve been shot by guns he’s provided opposing forces, I cannot let him escape. I’ll be at peace knowing he died by Corbin’s flawless marksmanship.
“Agreed,” I reply to Seth, and Corbin’s hand comes over my shoulder from the back seat, a bullet squeezed vertically between the pads of his thumb and forefinger.
“Looky what I swiped,” he says, and I glance in the rearview mirror to see his giddy expression.
“What is it?” Seth asks through the Bluetooth.
“Jacked a bullet from the warehouse. When forensics compares it to the ones at the warehouse, they’ll see it matches and think one of his guys turned on him,” Corbin answers as I pull to the side of the road along the fence at the backside of the airport. The sun has set, and with our headlights out, we’re basically invisible in the wooded coverage.
“Pretty and smart,” Seth coos, and I see Corbin roll his eyes in the reflection before opening the door, walking around the front of the car, and disappearing from view in the darkness. We disconnect our call as I hold my breath, waiting for Corbin to make his move.
After a moment, my ribs can barely contain my heart as it tries to escape my chest at the sound of the plane starting its engines.
“I’ve got him in my sights,” Corbin murmurs through my earpiece, making me almost jump out of my skin.
This anxiety is a new thing for me. I’ve only felt it once before when that fuckstick tried to shove Clarice into his trunk in Raleigh. It was personal, unlike most of my missions. So it explains why I’m having this reaction. This is very personal. That IED could’ve easily exploded and killed me had I not gone in another direction to secure the building. Those were my teammates he maimed and killed. It’s probably a blessing Corbin came with me to get the job done, because if I were in that fucker’s presence right now, there’s no way I’d have the self-control to make this look like an accident or like one of his goons turned on him. There would be no hiding the fact that I was the one who murdered the son of a bitch, because I would bathe in his blood.
In the next second, I hear a soft clang of metal as Corbin’s silencer muffles the sound of his shot, followed by a woman’s scream—probably a flight attendant aboard the private jet. Corbin’s head pops up over the hood as he stands from his position on the ground, carrying his sniper rifle in one hand while brushing the dirt and leaves off his front, his expression calm, as if he didn’t just take the life of the man we’ve been searching for since our early twenties. At thirty-two years old, I’ll finally be able to sleep like a baby.
When he climbs back into the truck, he tosses me something small and hot as it lands in my open palm. The metal casing of the bullet. A weight lifts off my shoulders and my heart finally calms. A sense of peace washes over me as I nod at him.
Thirty minutes into our drive home, Seth calls again. “Found him,” he says by way of greeting.
“The hacker?” I clarify, rolling up my window so I can hear him better.
“Yup. FBI are on their way to his location. Had a little fun with him, because that’s just who I am as a person.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “What did you do?” I scold.
“When I tapped into his computer, he was in the middle of tracking your girl’s car.” His words immediately wipe the smile from my face as my gut grows cold. “I made it show that her vehicle was in Thailand. No worries, bro. Anyway, I fucked with him a little while downloading everything from his computer onto an external hard drive for us to go through if we want to. Ya know, to see if there are any of his buddies to take care of. And then I wiped any evidence of Clarice from his searches.”
“Good job, Seth,” Corbin says, looking over at me with a reassuring expression.
“From what I see, there will be no question he’s involved in the arms deals, and it’ll lead directly to the warehouse. They’ll be able to track everything from the flight plans of every weapon shipment in the last fifteen years, down to every employee on the roster— Oh! Girls, check this out,” he interrupts himself.
After a minute, there’s a cacophony of laughter.
“What’s going on?” Corbin calls over all their voices.
“I’m tapped into the home security system across the street from his house. We’re just watching his pitiful attempt at escape after the FBI just busted in his door,” Seth replies before bursting out in a fit of laughter. “Oh my God, I’m so saving this so y’all can watch when you get back.”
“How much longer?” Clarice’s voice fills the vehicle, bringing a smile to my face.
Suddenly, excitement and need overwhelm me as I realize just what’s waiting for me when I get back. “Not long, lover. Maybe forty minutes,” I tell her.
“And we have the whole club to ourselves, big guy. No masks needed… Knight,” she purrs, apparently unperturbed by the fact she’s surrounded by all my friends.
“Brown chicken, brown cooooow,” Seth singsongs, and I roll my eyes, ending the call as he starts singing “The Bad Touch” by The Bloodhound Gang before I have to hear him get to the part about doing it like they do on the Discovery Channel.
“I have an idea,” I tell Corbin. “When you go pick Vi and the kids back up, will you show Clarice to Private Room 2? Tell her I said to wait for me there.”
“No problem,” he replies, and I hear a smile in his voice, so I turn to look at him, seeing his smirk.
My brow furrows. “What?”
He shakes his head. “Oh, nothing.”
When his smirk turns into a grin, I growl, “Whaaat?”
He chuckles. “Nothing, man. I just know what’s in Private Room 2.”
I can’t help but smile. “Yeah. And she’s been taking classes. Should be hot as fuck.”
He reaches over and claps me on the shoulder. “Can’t tell you how happy I am for you, bro. ’Bout time you got some happiness of your own.”
“She’s been my happiness for eleven years,” I remind him.
He shakes his head again. “It’ll be different now. You’ll see. You don’t know what happiness is until you fall asleep every night with the woman you were put on this earth for, your ring on her finger—and if you’re lucky, your baby in her belly.”
I give him a lopsided smile. Knowing everything Corbin and Vi went through, it chokes me up seeing him have everything in the world he’s ever wanted.
“I’m sure you’re right. And starting next month, I’ll get to experience the first part, when she moves in with me. I just gotta figure out a way to accomplish the second without actually popping the question.” When we began our drive home, I’d confided in him everything Clarice had told Doc and me during her second session, after I’d excitedly told him she would be moving in. He asked why it had taken so long for all this to finally happen, and there was no way for him to understand without the whole story.
“Well, bud, as you know, I’m the fucking king of proposals,” he gloats.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, since you’ve had lots of practice popping the question to the same woman twice.”
He flips me off. “Hey now, I’m trying to help you out here.”
“Let me think on it a bit. If I can’t come up with something, you’ll be the first person I ask for advice,” I tell him honestly, because, in all actuality, his proposals were pretty fucking epic.
“Deal,” he says, just as I pull in behind my SUV at my house.
“I won’t be too far behind, so make sure to get her to the private room as soon as you get there.”
“No problem, bro. You have fun tonight. Enjoy using our club for the first time, and make it rain.” He winks.
“Plan on it.” I hop out of his truck, giving him a wave as I head inside to change.
Clarice
HE SURVIVED.
I told Brian I love him, told him I’ll move in with him, and after going on a dangerous mission to take out a serious threat, he lived to tell the tale. Granted, there have been no yeses involved, at least on my part.
As I sit here in this beautiful room, its gorgeous cobalt blue walls with silver and black accents, rows upon rows of delicious-looking floggers lining one, and black leather furniture the other, I can’t help but let my mind wander as I await his arrival.
There have been no yeses from my mouth. Mine.
So what if I were the one to propose to Brian? I mean, he’s used to me taking control anyway. It wouldn’t really shock him. And in the end, it would be him saying yes, so that would bypass the curse, right?
There isn’t anything in this world I wouldn’t give to be Mrs. Brian Glover. And I may be thirty-seven, but we still have a little bit of time if we want to have kids. I smile at the thought, imagining a miniature Brian. Goodness, I’m sure it wouldn’t take long before he outgrew his momma. So it’s a good thing I excel in taking control. Plus, he’d grow up seeing how his hulking daddy treats his mom, no matter how much bigger he is than her. He’d be raised to become another gentle giant.
Or what if it were to be a little girl? A girl with blue-green eyes that sparkle like the sea. She’d grow up seeing exactly how a man should treat a woman, and then she would know not to accept anything less for herself.
Yes. In this moment, I decide yes, I want to marry Brian. I want to have his babies. And if I have to be the one who pops the question in order to make sure we get our happily ever after, then tradition and propriety be damned. I just need to figure out the perfect way to ask. He deserves nothing but the best, because he is the greatest person I know. And I can’t wait to make him mine forever.
Brian
I SEND SETH A text, “Closer in da Club Remix” by Nine Inch Nails and 50 Cent on repeat in Private Room 2, please.
I receive a smiling devil emoji in return then immediately hear the hard bass start pumping behind the curtain of the room I stand outside of. I chuckle, shaking my head at Clarice’s startled squeal of “Oh, shit!” And when I pull back the curtain far enough to walk inside, she’s sitting on the leather cushioned table in the middle of the room, her hand to her chest, looking around for the hidden speakers.
When she turns to me, she takes me in from head to toe and back up again, that plump bottom lip of hers pulling between her pretty white teeth as her chocolate eyes turn molten. She crosses her legs, seeming to unconsciously rub her thighs together at the sight of me in a suit. She’s used to seeing me in jeans and T-shirts, camo, or maybe even a nice button-up shirt, but she’s never seen me in a suit. The look she’s giving me makes me want to fall to my knees before her and give her anything she wants, but no. It’s my turn to dominate. I earned my reward, and it would disappoint her if I didn’t take it.
So, I saunter over to her, keeping my steps measured when all I want to do is swallow the space between us in quick strides so I can feel her against me. When I stand before her, she uncrosses her legs and sits up straight, a small smile on her pink lips and heat in her eyes. She waits for my first instruction, as she always does when we come to a BDSM club. But this is our first time in my club, and I want us to do something memorable.
I cock an eyebrow at her, putting on an arrogant air, and pull the folded stack of hundred-dollar bills from my suit’s jacket pocket, holding it by the silver money clip attached to it. I’d grabbed it out of my safe at home after showering quickly and slipping on my clothes.
“How much for a private dance, beautiful?” I ask her, nudging my head over to the stripper pole on the right side of the room surrounded on three sides by leather chairs.
She glances over and her breath catches for a moment. She hides her smile, lifting one shoulder in a little shrug. “Sorry, handsome. I’m only a cocktail waitress. I don’t dance.”
I glance from side to side, leaning sideways to look around her body as if searching for someone, before meeting her eyes once more. “I’m sure if I had a word with your boss, we could work something out.” I hold up the clip of hundreds, thumbing through the bills.
She gulps, her hands rubbing down the tops of her thighs as she squeezes her full breasts together with her arms. God, she’s so good at this. Role-playing with her is my favorite thing in the world. It’s why I save it for special occasions—so it doesn’t lose its effect.
“That won’t be necessary.” She slips off the leather table, bringing her flush against me for a moment before sensually brushing over the front of my suit pants with her fingers as she makes her way to the pole. “Please, take a seat,” she says, gesturing toward one of the overstuffed chairs.
When I stand in front of it, I unbutton my jacket before sitting down, my knees spreading as I get comfortable. She’s sent me all sorts of little videos of her barre and pole dancing classes that she discovered not far from her apartment. The last one she sent, I could tell she was getting pretty damn good, becoming stronger with each class she took. It was seriously impressive since she began with the upper body strength of a kitten and couldn’t do a single pull-up.
With the beat of Nine Inch Nails’s “Closer” mixed with 50 Cent singing the lyrics to his “In da Club” setting the intensely sexy mood, it’s easy to look past the fact that my girl is in her usual leggings and band tee, having not been home since bursting into the house with her discovery in the early evening hours. She slips off her flip-flops, nudging them to the side with her toes, before reaching for the hem of her Killswitch Engage shirt, holding my eyes as she slips it off over her head.
Turning to face the pole, she hooks her thumbs in her leggings and drags them down her shapely legs, bending over so far I can see the line of her black thong between the perfect globes of her ass. I reach down and adjust myself. She’s so effortlessly sexy. I’m the luckiest man in the world to call her mine. When she spins back around on her tiptoes, her body is the epitome of the hourglass shape a lot of women strive for. Her breasts nearly spill over the top of her simple black bra, her soft waist curving inward on the sid
es before flaring once more into generous hips I just want to dig my fingers into while I take her from behind.
She reaches behind her back and unsnaps her bra before letting it fall down her arms. When she catches it, she tosses it into my lap, winking cutely before turning and grasping hold of the pole. And I sink back into the leather chair, doing all I can to keep my mouth from falling open in awe as she weaves her spell with the sensual movements of her delicious body.
Reaching high up on the pole with one hand, she spins and puts her back to it, grabbing hold of it below her ass with her other hand as she lifts her legs to the side. The pole spins on its axis, and she looks like a goddess swirling in the air. Her feet touch the ground only for a moment as she switches positions, facing the silver metal and hooking the outside of her leg around its surface. She takes it in both her hands and lifts herself up, crossing her other leg over the one that’s hooked, and it looks as if she’s sitting daintily with her legs crossed, spinning above the ground.
Placing her bare feet on the ground once again, she faces me, her upper back pressing against the pole as she does an erotic dance to the music, her naked breasts and the look in her dark eyes making my breath come in and go out unsteadily. She tilts her head to the side, reaching her arms above her head as she takes the pole in her hands, and pressing her shoulder into it. I almost gasp as she throws her legs up, catching the pole with her feet. It sets her in motion, twirling in the air as she bends and straightens her lightly muscled legs in different positions, making her body a kaleidoscope of desire. Every half second, I catch a clear view of her panty-covered pussy as the pole spins, and I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
The song ends then restarts, and she climbs down, her breath a little heavy, her skin flushed and glistening with sweat from the effort. She’s never looked more fuckable.
Placing my elbow on the arm of the chair, I hold the stack of money between my pointer and middle finger, using my other hand to crook my finger in a “come here” gesture. She takes graceful steps toward me, her hips swaying to the beat, and when she approaches, I pat my thigh. She sits in my lap, her arm coming to rest along the back of the leather chair.