by Tara Quan
“What makes you think I care about any of those things?” He could talk her down from the other issues later, but her guilt was unacceptable. “And you’re light years away from being a murderer. If I could have gotten away with it, I would have killed all three of those bastards for what they tried to pull. Does that mean I’m a bad person?”
“Of course not. I—”
“I make you happy. You deserve to be happy. Anyone who says otherwise should be spanked, yourself included. It’s obvious the trauma warped your brain. Not too much, but enough to be annoying. We need to fix it, stat.”
Her cheeks puffed out. “You’re not a psychiatrist.”
He tapped her temple. “As I said, this is only a slightly messed up noggin. I know you better than most people. I was also there that night. It was self-defense. You were alone, facing three armed men. Even if you pulled the trigger, you would be in the clear—legally and morally. There, are you cured yet?”
“You don’t understand.” Her voice turned nasally. Shit. She’d better not start the waterworks. He could deal with anything but tears. “When he threw me against the wall…. There was this rush—this thrill. My ears roared. By the time I had him on the ground, my hands weren’t shaking. I was ready to kill him. I wanted to kill him.”
“It was the adrenaline. And your memory is faulty. I saw you on top of him. You were frightened out of your mind.”
“No, I wasn’t. It’s the problem.” Gulps of air punctuated her words. “I could take them out. I trained to fight those kinds of attacks. I had no reason to be scared.”
Noticing her reddening nose, he groaned. “It’s hindsight. Your rational self is looking back in time and inaccurately interpreting the facts.” It happened to witnesses all the time, which is why he avoided them in most cases. “Trust me, you were spooked. You had to be. If you want, I’ll prove it.”
When she blinked, moisture clumped her long lashes into spikes. But no tears leaked out. Thank God. “How could you possibly prove something like that?”
After forcing his brain to cycle through the options, he settled on a somewhat unorthodox idea. “If I do, will you let me spend the weekend at your place?”
“I don’t think you’d survive.” She wrinkled her nose. “You pack your own sheets for overnight stays.”
Most people underestimated the value of high thread count Egyptian cotton. “I’ll be fine.” As long as he stopped at his hotel to grab linens, towels, and toiletries.
“Um….”
“Are you too chicken to accept the bet?”
“Of course not.” Her eyes narrowed. “But what do I get if you fail?”
Shit. He’d pulled off too many one-sided deals to sneak another. “I’ll give you your cat back.” He dangled his ace in the hole. “It’s one less thing I can use against you.”
Chapter Five
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
With a grunt, Joss pulled on the black ski mask a member of the staff had provided. “Of course I am. Why?” The idea of having other men put their hands on Kim made the vein on his forehead tick. But her punishing herself for no reason knotted his gut.
He’d pick angry over nauseous any day of the week.
An identical prop covering his face, Nate crossed his arms. The man wore a dress-shirt the same shade as his blue eyes. Rolled up sleeves revealed tanned arms decorated with tattoos. The pair of snarling dragons had scales mimicking patterns on a microchip. “You’re possessive as all hell.”
“I can keep a lid on it. If you’re worried about your virtual girlfriend getting jealous, you’re assisting, not joining the scene.” The nerd’s only long-term relationship was of the online variety. “If you so much as look at Kim the wrong way, I’ll knock out your teeth.”
The tech tycoon snorted. “You could try. I’m guessing all your talk about banging a different chick each night was complete bullshit.”
“I might have exaggerated a tad.” With a sociopathic and unpredictable mother, Joss had learned to embrace habitual misdirection.
“If you’re not planning a ménage”—Luka chimed in—“why did you drag our asses here at close to sunrise?”
“I trust you, and you’re in town. Besides, you get a kick out of putting poor, defenseless subs on display.”
“I watched your poor, defenseless sub put my ex’s hired muscle in a headlock. Afterwards, she crushed his balls. Now you’re asking me to chase her down in a capture game? What if she throat-punches me?” To Joss’s disgust, the six-foot-something Dom fidgeted with his collar before shuddering.
“Oh, man up. She’s five feet tall and half your weight.”
“Luke has a point.” Nate cradled his own chin. “And chances are you’ll punch us yourself.”
Joss tilted his head toward the prep area where Kim stood, her arms extended so a DM could paint fluorescent cuffs on her wrists. The distinctive color assigned to each sub prevented cases of mistaken identity. “She can win a fight with me. She knows it. I want to prove a point, and I need her scared.”
“This takes wingman to a whole new level. When Naomi hears about it, and she will, I’ll be sharing the couch with our dog.” Luka nonetheless pulled on his mask.
Joss nodded his approval. The man’s white button-down resembled his own. In the dark, their similar builds should help throw his stubborn sub off-balance. “I sued your psycho ex into bankruptcy, turned you into a rich man, and hooked you up with your current girlfriend. You owe me doesn’t quite cut it.”
“Fine. But if she breaks my nose, you’re paying for plastic surgery. Let’s get this done. They’re sounding the horn.”
Red lights flashed, cloaking the makeshift catacombs in a sinister glow. Recorded thunder accompanied flashes of white light. Even at this hour, quite a few groups had showed up to role-play. Several dungeon monitors patrolled the pathways, on alert for any hint of the safe word or mismatched markers. He, Nate, and Luka wore fluorescent armbands matching the color painted on Kim’s wrists and ankles.
When playing close to the line, reputable clubs operated with an abundance of caution.
The subs raced into the darkness, their progress slowed by meandering paths marked by fake boulders and plastic shrubs. He scanned the area for his prize. Hunting instincts and adrenaline took over, lending the theatrical props surprising authenticity.
Heart pounding, he vaulted after his prey, having glimpsed the florescent sheen of her markings out of the corner of his eye. He’d scoped out the area beforehand, needing any advantage he could get. Turned around by false routes and delayed by manmade obstacles, Kim had no hope of escape.
He envisioned looping his arm around her neck, hauling her against him as she fought to break free. She would put up a fight, forcing him to throw her to the ground. Pinned by his weight, she’d struggle as he tore off her clothes, her silky mane framing her naked body as he pried her legs apart. He’d find her wet, her hips lifting to meet his touch.
He hadn’t expected her to lay a trap. As they rounded a corner, the sneaky minx appeared out of nowhere, her arms and legs a blur in the dark. She tripped Luka then launched her entire weight at Nate.
She’d put both his friends on their asses in less than a minute. But trouble came in threes. Joss yanked her off Nate by the scruff of her neck, shoving her toward Luka as the man rose to his haunches. She dropped and rolled before he could lock his arms around her waist. Leaping to her feet, she disappeared around the corner with an exuberant laugh.
A strategic mistake.
Until this moment, his friends had been more spectator than participant, her delicate appearance leashing their predatory instincts. Attacking them turned her into a worthy adversary. She’d amped up the stakes.
They all took off, the fluorescent bands on her skin betraying her location and path. Though fast, her short legs couldn’t outpace men twice her size. When she glanced back, he caught a glimmer of the blankness he’d witnessed in the interrogation room—the sudden merging of pa
st and present that turned her sprint choppy and erratic.
Bathed in red light, chased by assailants in ski masks, she’d be hard-pressed to keep memories at bay. She stumbled, almost fell, before righting herself and pulling her shoulders back. Spinning to face them, she lifted her chin and fisted her hands, her expression fierce enough he doubted she recognized this as theater.
Aiming for her shirt collar, he shot out his hand. Blocking his attack, she bent her knees and threw her shoulder at his ribs. He twisted to the side in time to avoid injury. Thrown off balance, he deflected her kick, the momentum landing him on the carpet.
She pounced. Her fist would have dented his face had Nate not looped his arm around her neck. She clawed at his hand as he pulled her back, leaving dark lines where nails met skin. He growled, hauling her off the floor so her kicks met air.
She arced her heel back. It hit Nate’s shin hard enough he cursed and threw her to the ground. Having waited for this window, Joss jumped on her the moment she landed.
Straddling her, he dug the heels of his palms into her shoulders as Nate and Luka separated to pin her arms and legs. Ignoring the sheen of sweat coating her face and neck, he grabbed the sides of her shirt.
Buttons popped as he tore the garment. Ignoring her desperate struggles, he unhooked the front clasp of her sports bra. Her breasts sprung free, two pale globes turned pink by the crimson light.
She thrashed, twisting her torso in a bid to escape his rough exploration. He pinched her nipples, raked his fingers over her flesh as his friends held her captive. She couldn’t move, imprisoned by three men, all bigger and stronger.
His voice a low growl, he unbuckled his belt. “Are you scared?”
Her whimper tore at him, but he kept going, whipping the leather through the loops fast enough it hissed. Sliding down to sit on her knees, he hiked up her skirt. He saw the whites of her eyes as he shoved his palm between her clammy thighs. “So, are you fine? Is everything under control? Do you still want to fuck?”
He pulled his hand away the moment she hissed, “No. No, I’m not fine, all right? Back the hell off.”
Tearing off his ski mask, he heaved a relieved breath. He’d put on a good show, but they’d already gone further than he wanted. Cradling her face, he forced her to make eye contact.
Her lower lip trembled. With her pupils dilated, her irises were pools of black. The knot at the pit of his stomach wound tighter. It had to be done, but he didn’t have to like it. “You were afraid. So afraid, the game didn’t turn you on.”
“I told you to back off,” she growled.
“That’s not what you need.” He kissed her, a slow, tender caress aimed at soothing her nerves. When he pulled back, her heaving breaths slowed to a more steady rhythm. Neck muscles relaxing against his fingers, she shut her eyes.
“Were you this scared when those bastards grabbed you?” He had to confirm.
“Quit talking and kiss me again.”
“Stop trying to cheat and answer the question.”
“Damn it. Fine. With them, it was much worse. So, yeah. I’m an idiot.” From her tone, frustrated anger had replaced fear. “But keep rubbing it in, and I’ll smack you.”
Both Nate and Luka chuckled. They let her go so Joss could scoop her into his arms. When she snuggled closer, his world righted. Comforting her was its own reward.
“And you’re back.” He kissed her sweat-dampened hair. “Any chance you’ll admit I’m right out loud? I want witnesses.”
“Don’t make me head-butt you.” She pinched his triceps. “Point taken. I’m a little messed up. I’ll figure out how to get past it later. Right now, I’m dead tired. Let’s go home and sleep.”
Savoring the casual invitation, he glanced at Luka. Despite the ski mask, he caught the man’s wink. A second later, his friend raced off.
“Sleep is for losers. Sure you’re all better?”
Nodding, she pushed at his chest. “Yeah. You can take your paws off me. You smell good, but you’re squeezing so tight I’m about to suffocate.”
“Is this any way to speak to your Dom?” Nate drawled from behind her. For a man who often demanded high protocol, he likely considered scratch marks on his arms a serious offense. “Your sub needs a lesson in manners.”
“Agreed.” Joss tightened his hold. “All this kicking and biting deserves punishment.”
Kim tensed. They’d scened together too many times for her to miss his intent. “I haven’t bitten anyone.” Her breathless protest was all the permission he needed.
“But she did kick.” Luka’s drawl announced his return. “She owes us a show. More than one, to be fair.” He dropped Joss’s toy bag on the floor with a loud thump. Anticipating this end to the night, they’d stashed it nearby.
“Wait.” She squirmed, fear leaching into her voice. “Ménage is a hard limit.”
“It won’t be a ménage.” He ran his palm down her back. “They’ll watch. They’ll hold you down. But anything sexual only happens with me.”
Through his shirt, he felt her nipples tightening to sharp points. Oh yes, the idea made her hot. Though neither of them would ever share, they both enjoyed an audience—in this case, a participating one.
Unlocking his arms, he nodded at Nate and Luka. “Prep her.”
With a grunt, Nate caught Kim by the hair and yanked her to her feet. He wound his hand in her tresses as Luka stripped off the remainder of her clothing. His movements brusque and efficient, he kept skin contact to a minimum. Smart man.
During the entire ordeal, Kim trained her gaze on Joss. As she lost her undergarments, her lips paled to match the color of her skin.
Marching to face her, he placed his knuckle under her chin. “What is bothering you?”
Seconds passed before she answered. “Too many hands. That night…before I broke free, they had me on the pavement. Later, I had nightmares….”
For months, his sleep had also been tormented by visions of her bloodied and broken. “Let’s replace the memory with something better.” As her Dom, his duty was to give her what she needed. The capture game served a purpose beyond proving his point. “You have a safe word. You’re in complete control. This is for your pleasure, no one else’s.”
With a shaky laugh, she arched a brow. “I’m pretty sure you’re enjoying this.”
Nate and Luka dragged her to the floor. Manacling her wrists and ankles with their hands, they extended her arms and legs until they had her spread eagle between them. Bared to the skin, she didn’t fight their hold.
Joss grabbed his toy bag before kneeling by her waist. He palmed her breast, his fingers marking her skin as he twisted his hand. “I like having you naked and helpless.”
She shivered. “And showing me off.”
“That, too.” When he pulled out a blindfold, she whipped her head left and right.
“Trust me.”
Biting her lower lip, she held still as he wound the black silk over her eyes. Having shrouded her in darkness, he reached into his bag. Opening a bottle, he held it in front of her nose. The minty scent wafted up, reminding him of the first time he’d introduced her to chemical play.
“Remember this?” He’d tested the mixture on her delicate skin before, making sure it had no effect beyond the intended.
Her breath hitching, she gave a jerky nod. With her nipples on the small side, clamps weren’t his preferred method for tormenting her breasts. He decorated the tips with the slippery liquid, watched as her dusky areolas darkened and ruched. Using more liberal amounts of the balm, he drew swirls along her cleavage, across her taut abs, and down to her navel. When he blew on the pattern, she whimpered.
The icy-hot sting on his finger gave him a good idea of how the compound must be affecting her. By the time he’d spread the heat to her hips and inner thighs, sweat beaded on her chest and chin. “You’re wet, and I haven’t even touched you.”
She tried to squeeze her legs together, failing when Luka tightened his hold. His voice a whip,
Nate united her wrists and then reached down to splay his hand around her neck. “Did your Dom give you permission to move?”
Her lips parted before she clamped her mouth shut with a loud click. She’d held back the safe word. Joss’s tensed muscles unlocked. He’d pushed her to the edge of her hard limit, but she’d surrendered the reins to him.
A darker instinct demanded more. Shoving his hand between her spread legs, he dipped his finger inside her.
Wincing, she squirmed. In response, the other two Doms pressed down, acting as immovable restraints.
“She’s wet,” Nate observed, his words a taunt. “I could eat her up.”
“If she doesn’t stop moving, I’ll let you.”
At his empty threat, she went motionless.
Pulling out, Joss coated two fingers with the balm then eased them back inside her. She was tight and hot. The deeper he shoved, the slicker she became.
“Please, don’t.” She moaned. “You’ll make me come.” For whatever reason, she had always been shy about others witnessing her pleasure.
He pinched her nipples, squeezing hard enough she cried out. The compound would have sensitized her skin, making her breasts feel swollen and hot. Despite his previous threat, she twisted her torso in an attempt to thwart his fondling. Her disobedience warranted a proportional response.
When he forced an additional finger inside her, her back arched. He pushed harder, neglecting her clit on purpose. After a brief search, the tip of his middle finger met its mark.
Her hips shot up.
Slow and steady, he fingered her, each penetration far enough to hit her sweet spot. He heightened the stimulation by tormenting her breasts, his hard squeezes forcing muffled cries from her pursed lips. Within seconds, she shuddered.
She whimpered when he yanked his hand from between her legs mid-orgasm. Nate pulled off her blindfold, and her lids fluttered open in time to catch Joss tasting her off his fingers. When her captors freed her, she remained on the floor, her breaths coming in harsh, shallow pants.