The former CIA agent had dropped her off in a mid-sized town about twenty minutes away from his place. From there, she’d gotten a taxi to the airport in Kuala Lumpur, then purchased a ticket for Virginia with one of her alias passports. Carter would be taking the private jet back, and she’d left her favorite sniper rifle and other weapons with him, knowing he’d be able to get them into the US for her. The only weapon she’d brought to the airport with her was one of the revolvers she’d acquired in Malaysia, just in case she ran into trouble. Before she approached security, she’d made a detour to a bathroom where she’d stripped the gun down to its individual parts. Each piece had ended up in a different garbage can along the check-in concourse. She hadn’t wanted to risk a child or criminal finding the completed weapon.
She’d arrived in Virginia yesterday and had taken care of her reports. The flash drive with the data she’d garnered from the ambassador’s computer, along with photographs of a few documents that had been in the safe she’d cracked open, had gone to the computer and intelligence divisions of Deimos.
Glancing at her cell phone, she couldn’t tell if she was disappointed or not that Carter hadn’t run after her and knocked down her door, demanding to know why he’d woken up alone. He knew where she would go, so that couldn’t be the reason he hadn’t found her. And he hadn’t left any voicemails for her either. Well, what had she expected after doing the walk of shame from halfway around the world? Maybe he didn’t feel the same way she did. Maybe it had only been a one-night stand, that had taken months to happen, and he was done with her now.
Shit. Woman up, Jordyn. You have more than enough guts to kill a man but you can’t ask one you slept with how he feels about you?
Opening the bedroom door, she strode the halls of the large building until she reached the communications division. If anyone knew where Carter was right now, it would be these guys. He had to be in the Virginia/D.C. area since he’d needed to file his reports, too. It was getting late, but if she tracked him down in time, maybe they could go to dinner or something.
Entering the room, she saw that Kenny Reardon was the only one of the comm techs not currently on the phone. Walking over to his computer setup, she flopped down in a chair next to him.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said as he finished typing an entry into his computer. “Long time no see. How’ve you been?”
Reardon was a sweet kid with bright red hair and a perpetual smile. A few years younger than Jordyn, he always flirted with her, but had no illusions they were anything more than associates and maybe friends.
“I’m good—getting ready to get out of here. Listen, I was wondering if you know where Carter is. I need to talk to him about something and I don’t want to wait until he gets around to checking his messages.”
Leaning back in his chair, the tech threw one of those rubber stress balls up in the air and caught it, before throwing it again. “Yeah, about that. Weren’t you two supposed to fly back from the other side of the world together?”
That just went to show that no one in Deimos was completely dark—unless they went rogue—there was always someone who knew where you were and what you were supposed to be doing.
Not wanting to tell him the real reason she wanted to talk to Carter, Jordyn lied as smoothly as she did on her missions. “I had some stuff to take care of . . .” She purposely lowered her voice to a near whisper. “. . . you know, women stuff. And I didn’t want him to have to wait around for me.”
The guy’s pale face turned beet red, just as she knew it would. Tell most men that you had to take care of “women stuff” and there would be no further questions from them.
“I . . . ah . . . gotcha . . . I mean, I understand . . . no, scratch that. I don’t understand. Nor do I want to understand . . . um . . . what was the question?”
Jordyn stifled a laugh at his embarrassment. “Where can I find Carter?”
He seemed to relax a little now that they weren’t talking about “women stuff” and he relaxed back in his rolling chair. “He was here earlier, then left after filing his report. But I think he was heading for Club X.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Club X? What’s that and where is it?”
“Where? In Georgetown. What? The most exclusive BDSM club in D.C.” He waggled his eyebrows a few times. “Not that it’s my scene, but damn would I love to check that place out someday.”
What? A sex club? What the hell was Carter doing there?
Jordyn didn’t realize she’d asked that last question aloud until Reardon answered her. “He usually stops in there when he’s in town. All the movers and shakers who are into kink go there from what I hear.”
“Oh, so . . . he goes there for intel, right?” She hoped that’s all he did there.
Shaking his head, Reardon leaned forward in his chair to answer one of the phone lines that had started ringing. “Well, sometimes, sure. But most of the time, he’s there as ‘Master Carter.’ He’s got memberships to kink clubs all over the world. To each his own, I guess.” He punched the blinking button on the phone and spoke into his headset’s microphone. “Comm desk. What’s up?”
Her mouth agape, Jordyn stood and walked out of the room, too stunned to say goodbye to Reardon. Master Carter? Memberships to kink clubs all over the world? He fucking liked to abuse women? That fucking bastard! She’d fucking kill him if she ever got her hands on him again!
* * *
Present . . .
It had taken Jordyn days or weeks, hell, maybe even months before she’d calmed down enough following that revelation. But then again, maybe she still hadn’t since, right now, she wanted to beat the hell out of the woman abuser sitting next to her. After she’d walked out of the comm office that day, she’d managed to avoid the bastard for years. She’d focused on her missions and became adept at working on her own. If she had to be paired up with someone, she’d requested anyone but Carter. If McDaniel suspected bad blood between his two operatives, he never questioned Jordyn about it—she wasn’t sure if he’d asked Carter, though.
“Jordyn.”
Her head whipped around at the sound of Carter’s low timber. Not realizing the SUV had stopped, she had no idea where they were. “What?”
His eyes narrowed at her. He opened his mouth to say something, then clearly decided against it because his mouth closed as he ran a hand down his face. “Nothing. We’re here. Come on.”
Without waiting for her response, he opened his door and got out. From the passenger seat, Jordyn eyed their surroundings. She’d been so wrapped up in the past, she hadn’t even noticed when he’d pulled into another underground garage. A few expensive cars occupied spaces, but there was no one else around. A white door, with simple black lettering on it, loomed ahead of her—Club X.
She jumped when her car door opened suddenly, and Carter stared down at her with narrowed eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m not going in there.” She crossed her arms like a petulant child and sat back against the seat, determination and anger in her jaw.
“What? Why not?” When she didn’t answer him, he reached down and turned her chin toward him. She batted his hand away, not wanting him to touch her. “Jordy, what the fuck is going on? Talk to me. I can’t fucking fix it, if I don’t know what’s wrong.”
Gritting her teeth, she glared at him. “Stop with the fucking ‘Jordy’—you know I hate that name.”
“You didn’t mind it when I used it while fucking your brains out. How many times did you cum for me that night? Huh? Don’t remember that far back? I sure as hell do. I remember every single time you shattered around my fingers, tongue, and cock. Every. Single. Time. Jordy. I also remember how I woke up alone. So tell me what the fuck changed between you screaming my name in ecstasy to when you decided you hated my guts.”
Damn the bastard—she remembered that night far more than she wanted to, and like it always did when she thought about it, her body responded. Moisture pooled between her legs against her will. Glancing up at h
im, she saw his face was red in anger or frustration, and a vein at his temple bulged. Tension rolled off of him in waves, and Jordyn suddenly realized she was at a disadvantage sitting in the vehicle with him hovering over her. If he lashed out at her because he was pissed, she had little chance of avoiding at least one punch. Pushing him out of her way, she jumped out of the passenger seat and put distance between them.
She held out her hand. “Give me the keys; I’ll check into a hotel. I’m not sleeping here.”
“What?” He threw his hands in the air. “Jesus, woman, you’re going to drive me to drink. You’re not going anywhere. The club has everything we need, and I have to talk to some contacts here later.”
“It might have everything you need, but there is no way in hell I’m going into a fucking perverted sex club where men get their kicks abusing women. Now give me the fucking keys, you son of a bitch!”
* * *
Carter’s lower jaw practically scraped the ground; he couldn’t remember ever being this stunned before. Holy fucking shit! That’s the bug she’s had up her ass all these years? Well, knock me out and paint me blue!
A laugh started deep in his belly, and as hard as he tried, he couldn’t prevent it from rising up and shooting out his mouth. His entire body shook from the force, and tears began to fill his eyes as he roared, his amusement echoing off the walls of the parking garage. Jordyn glared at him, warning him his death was imminent if he didn’t stop, and that just made him laugh harder. He threw his head back with a loud guffaw and brought both hands to his face to wipe the tears away. “Oh, shit . . . woman . . . what-what am I going to do with you, huh? This is too fucking funny.”
A flick of her wrist and a faint but lethal snick caught his attention, and he froze. His voice went from amused to deadly in a heartbeat as his eyes narrowed at her. “Seriously, Jordy? You’re pulling a switchblade on me? Not a wise move, sweetheart, and you know it.”
“Give me the fucking keys,” she spat, holding the blade in her right hand.
There was about five feet between the two of them, far enough for him to react if she really came at him with it. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he also wasn’t letting her stab him—not that he thought she seriously would. Instead of giving her what she demanded, he grabbed the waistband of his pants and dropped the keys inside his boxer briefs—and damn, the metal was cold against his hot flesh. “Come and get them, sweetheart. Or better yet, come into the club with me, and let me show you how wrong you are about everything.” Her jaw clenched as her gaze flickered to his groin and back to his face again, but she didn’t answer him. “The BDSM lifestyle is far from the image you obviously have in your mind. I have never . . .” He took a warning step toward her, his hands loose at his sides, ready to react to an assault if need be. “. . . ever hit a woman in anger. And I’ve only hit one in self-defense. Now sparring with or spanking a woman who consented to it is something completely different.” Well, there had been that time he’d had to hit Mic, but that had been for their cover on a mission—there was no way he was mentioning that to Jordyn now, though. Mic had known it was coming, and Carter had hated to do it. Every time he’d looked at the bruise he’d left on her cheek until it was completely gone, he’d felt like puking.
Jordyn snorted. “Right, like women are begging you to hit them.”
A heavy sigh escaped him. “All right. Evidently, I’m not going to be able to convince you of anything out here in the fucking garage, so let’s make a deal, shall we? Hmm?”
“A deal? Why would I want to make a fucking deal with you?”
Damn, this was killing him. Somehow she’d found out about him being in the lifestyle, and, like most people not in it, she had visions of despicable, harmful abuse in her head. It wasn’t the first time he’d come across someone who was severely misinformed about BDSM, but this was the first time it involved someone he cared about—someone he wanted with every breath he took. “Because right now, sweetheart, we need to be working together to find out who wants us, and the others, dead. One of the reasons I brought you here is because of all the contacts I have who are members of the club. Some, if not all, of the people I need to talk to will probably be here later, and I’m hoping one of them will point us in the right direction. Now, put away the knife and come inside with me. The club’s not open yet, but I’ve got a permanent room here. We can shower, catch some Zs, and have a bite to eat. And in between all that, I’ll try to educate you a little about the lifestyle.” He brought his right hand up and placed it over his heart. “Come on, Jordy. I think you know deep down I would never, ever hurt you. No one will lay a hand on you inside the club, and I swear to you, I would never do anything to you, or anyone else in there, that wasn’t asked for. Trust me—please.”
That last word had almost sounded like a desperate plea, even to his own ears. He stood perfectly still, waiting for her to absorb what he’d said and analyze it. Seconds passed as she glared at him. Finally, she waivered—her hard expression softened just a tad, and her hand and the weapon dropped to her side. Another flick of her wrist and the blade disappeared. “This goes against everything inside of me.”
“I know, sweetheart, I know. But I’m asking you—begging you to trust me. It’s not what you think.” They stared at each other for a minute, then Jordyn reached for the rear passenger door of the SUV and opened it. When she pulled out her duffel bag, and nodded at him, he heaved a sigh of relief. Knots in his stomach he hadn’t realized were there released. “Thank you.”
Retrieving his own bag, he locked the vehicle and led her to the club’s door. He flashed his wallet containing an electronic passkey over a sensor, and the door’s lock released. They entered the small hallway, and he pushed the button for the elevator. “Look, I know you’re going to be tense in the club, but I need you to go into mission mode. Blend in. I’ll introduce you as a new, and still learning, Domme so you won’t have to worry about Doms trying to negotiate a scene with you. Unfortunately, that means you’ll probably have the submissive men, and maybe some women, asking you to spank them and stuff. Do not insult or embarrass anyone here.” When the doors opened, she entered the elevator, leaned against the back wall, and glared at him, while crossing her arms over her chest. Carter punched the button for the first floor. “I mean it, Jordy; this is important. Not blending in will raise a lot of red flags for people in here. I’ve spent years cultivating my cover in this club. If I get outed, Deimos will lose a lot of important contacts who will never trust me again.”
When they reached the first floor, the doors opened, but Carter blocked Jordyn’s exit. He stared at her until the doors shut once more behind him. She raised her eyebrows at him, then threw a hand in the air. “Fine. Mission mode. Undercover. Don’t embarrass or insult. I fucking got it, asshole, now get me out of this elevator.”
“Great,” he mumbled. “I’m back to being an asshole.” Pivoting, he hit the first floor button once more, and since the elevator hadn’t moved, the doors immediately slid open again.
Stepping into the lobby, he spotted the first person he wanted to see. A man in his thirties, wearing a black T-shirt and gray dress slacks, was standing at the concierge desk reading something on the computer in front of him. He glanced up and smiled. “Master Carter, a pleasure to see you again, Sir; it’s been awhile.”
“Good afternoon, Paul. It’s nice to be back in town.” He gestured toward Jordyn. “This is Mistress Jordyn, a friend of mine from California who is relatively new to the lifestyle. She’ll be here as my guest tonight. Jordyn this is Paul, Club X’s assistant manager.”
Having gone into mission mode like he’d asked, she tilted her head toward the other man. “A pleasure to meet you, Paul.”
Like any respectful submissive, Paul lowered his gaze and gave her a bow of his head. “The pleasure is all mine, Mistress Jordyn. Welcome to Club X. If you need anything, please come see me, and I’ll take care of it at once.”
“Thank you. I’ll do just that.”
“Certainly, Sir; I’ll deliver them myself. Would you also like me to bring up something to drink?”
“Hmm. How about a bottle of Screaming Eagle Cabernet Sauvignon, 2009?” Out of the corner of his eye, Carter saw Jordyn raise her brow slightly at the mention of the $2000 bottle of wine, but she didn’t say a word.
“Excellent choice, Sir. I’ll put that on your tab and bring everything up when the food arrives.”
“Thank you. Now, one other thing, is your mistress here yet?”
“Yes, Sir. She’s at the bar checking the inventory.”
Carter nodded his thanks once more then gestured toward a set of double doors. Jordyn followed him and he held one of the doors open for her. Low, smooth jazz flowed from the speaker system and the scent of oranges filled the air as two employees wiped down the various leather couches and chairs in the bar area.
“Carter, my dear. I didn’t expect you tonight, but as always, it’s lovely to see you.” Mistress Trixie came from around the bar and sashayed toward him, a glint of delight and sensuality in her eyes. With firm, surgically-enhanced breasts tucked snuggly in the top of a long, black dress, Trixie had a body most women would kill for. “And who’s this beautiful lady?”
As the tall, auburn-haired Domme assessed Jordyn with a knowing eye, Carter introduced the two and used the same story he’d given Paul. “Trixie, this is a friend of mine visiting from California. Jordyn is new to the lifestyle, and I’ve been training her as a Domme.”
“Really?” Trixie’s throaty, whiskey-laced voice held more than a hint of disbelief. She’d been in the lifestyle for many years and could spot a true sexual submissive from a mile away, but she didn’t question his bold-faced lie any further. In her place of business, keeping secrets was mandatory if you wanted to stay in business—and alive. Holding out a hand to the shorter woman, she said, “Welcome to my club, Mistress Jordyn. It’s a pleasure to have you here. If you’ll excuse the cliché, any friend of Carter’s is a friend of mine.”
Absolving His Sins: Trident Security Book 7 Page 10