“If it wasn’t Diallo, it’s someone he knows. Someone who had access to his phone or was able to hack into it and forward a call. And, someone who knew to use Georgette’s name to open a cell account. If we hadn’t called the numbers, we would have never figured out it wasn’t her phone.”
“But we still don’t have a motive. It could have been anyone he knows. Hell, it could have been someone who got close to him, specifically to use him. He’s too dumb and conceited to think anyone would want to hang out with him for any other reason than he’s a cool guy—which he isn’t. So, now what?”
Amar shrugged. “We keep digging, my friend.”
“Shit.”
35
Tahira twisted her hands together as she stared into the mirror. The bruises on her face had finally disappeared completely. The ones on the rest of her body were gone as well, and she was grateful she no longer had to see the reminders of her assault. The tight, black miniskirt and skimpy, gold camisole she was wearing were at the suggestion of Angie and Kristen, and she hoped Darius approved of them. While she had panties on—Darius thought she’d be more comfortable that way—she’d forgone a bra. She wasn’t well blessed in that department and could easily get away with not wearing one.
Today was the first day they were training in the club, and she was grateful it was during the daytime when it was closed and only the two women, Ian, Devon, and maybe Mitch would be there. She was nervous enough as it was and didn’t need more attention focused on her and Darius, although, one would think being constantly in the public eye would’ve made a difference. But it didn’t.
She was more worried about Darius. Even though they’d discussed trying a D/s relationship, and Trudy had agreed with them giving it a shot when they’d spoken to the therapist together last week, Tahira was still concerned about it. Was Darius just doing this for her, like he’d done for their impending nuptials, or would he be getting something he needed out of it too? He was a dominant man who took charge when he needed to without hesitation in any given situation. But would he fit into the lifestyle like his friends and teammates did? She didn’t want him to feel like a fish out of water. If he wasn’t comfortable with her submitting to him, even in a non-sexual manner, then she would tell him the lifestyle wasn’t for her either. But she was afraid she’d be lying to him if she did that.
After talking in private with Trudy, and then with Angie and Kristen one evening, during a girl’s night in Angie and Ian’s apartment, Tahira was certain she was a submissive. She’d done some research on several websites the women had recommended, and while many of the types of play did not appeal to her, the thought of handing control over to Darius, even for a few hours, sounded like heaven. She wouldn’t have to be “on” and smiling like she had to be all the time in public. She could just relax and let him take over. He would honor her limits, and she would be safe with him. She could even cry if she needed to—something she avoided at all costs if anyone but Darius was around. In his arms, Tahira didn’t need to be anyone but herself—a woman who’d fallen in love with the man who’d saved her in more ways than one. And yes, she was in love with him.
The door to the locker room opened and Angie waddled in, her hand at her lower back. She smiled when she saw Tahira. “You look like you’re about to be thrown to the wolves. Relax. After a few minutes, you’ll be more comfortable than me. I can’t wait for Little Bit to come out into the world. I feel like a beached whale with back pain, and don’t tell Ian I said that. I’ve already racked up a bunch of punishments for when we can play again. Actually, I’m looking forward to them. Now I know what Kristen had been talking about when she was nearing her due date with JD. Devon was driving her nuts with his hovering and Ian is the same way. I was glad I had some time to myself when he had to go to Miami and then D.C. for Amar. What was that all about, anyway? He didn’t tell me.”
Tahira was grateful for Angie’s babbling. It helped take her mind off the fact she was in a sex club and calmed her down a bit. She also trusted the women to keep her confidence. “It is not public knowledge, but Amar, Ian, and Darius thought my cousin’s friend might have had something to do with my abduction.”
The other woman’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?”
“But he did not,” she quickly added. “They questioned him and believed him when he said he did not know what they were talking about.” Tahira had been sort of relieved it hadn’t been Diallo. She hated to think someone who had been around her so much had been involved in something so heinous as arranging for the women to be kidnapped and sold as sex slaves. Unfortunately, they still didn’t know who’d done it. But she didn’t want to think about any of that now, so she changed the subject. “Do I look all right?”
“Seriously?” Angie repeated. “Girl, you’d look stunning dressed in a garbage bag. Trust me, Darius will be drooling. In fact, he told me to tell you he’s waiting outside for you, since I was coming in here to use the bathroom. Take a deep breath and go; I’ll be back out in a few minutes.”
After taking one last look in the mirror, Tahira did as Angie suggested and took a deep breath before walking on shaky knees and bare feet to the door. Darius was standing a short distance away when she entered the downstairs portion of the club. As she approached him, his gaze roamed her body from head to toe and back again, and his nostrils flared, causing her to blush. His tongue peeked out and wet his full lips, as he held his hand out to her. “You look beautiful, Princess. Come here.” She placed her hand in his and was surprised when he lifted it to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “You’re shaking.” He pulled her into his embrace and stroked her hair. “You’re safe, sweetheart, but say the word and we’ll go home. If this isn’t what you want . . .”
She pulled back just enough that she could see his handsome face. “No, please, I want to stay. I am just a little nervous.”
Smiling, he bent down and placed a brief, sweet kiss on her lips. “I’d be worried if you weren’t.” Still holding her hand, he stepped back. “Shall we?”
“Lead the way, Sir.”
“Hmm. I kind of like that coming from you.” He started walking toward the center of the pit, where the others were waiting for them. “I just can’t get used to your staff calling me sir all the time.”
“Now you know why I asked you and several other people here to call me by my first name. ‘Princess’ and ‘Your Royal Highness’ get tiresome after a while.”
He gave her a sideways glance. “Do you want me to stop calling you princess?”
“No. It sounds different coming from you; it is like a term of endearment.”
Stopping short, he turned her toward him and stared into her eyes. “It is, Tahira. Just like when I call you sweetheart. You know, sometimes I feel like I’m Cinderella and you’re Princess Charming, but when we’re alone or with close friends, it’s just Darius and Tahira—I like it that way.”
“So do I.” She giggled. “And you would be Cinderfella, not Cinderella.”
“Huh?”
She laughed harder at his confused expression. “It is an old movie with Jerry Lewis and very funny. I watched it many times when I was younger. One of my au pairs loved old American movies and introduced me to many of them. We will have to watch it sometime when we are not in the mood for horror films.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
As they approached Ian, Devon, and Kristen, Tahira noticed something right away—besides the fact the two men were sitting in comfortable armchairs, and Kristen was relaxing on a large pillow on the floor next to her husband with her eyes closed and her head resting on his thigh. No, what Tahira noticed out of the ordinary was that neither man stood to greet her. That had never happened before.
“I can see those wheels turning in your head, Tahira,” Ian said with a amused smile. “You’re in my territory now. In this club, you’re a submissive, and the Doms here will treat you as such. You hung your tiara at the door—you’ll get it back on your way out.”
Tahira�
�s eyes narrowed as she cocked her head to the side. “Hung my tiara? I did not wear a tiara. Is that one of your Americanisms? What does it mean?”
“The real saying is ‘hung your hat.’ It means . . .” Darius responded as he took one of the empty, leather seats across from the other two men. “. . . in here, you’re just like everyone else. No special treatment; no being called princess by anyone other than me; and no one bowing to you because of the crown you wear outside of The Covenant. It also means, when I want, you’ll be at my feet, like Kristen is at Devon’s.”
He gestured to an oversized, burgundy pillow on the other side of his chair. Thankfully, Kristen and Angie had told her to expect this. Skirting around Darius’s legs, Tahira lowered herself to her knees on the pillow and found a comfortable position.
“You learn fast, Batman,” Devon said with a chuckle.
Grinning, Darius shrugged. “I picked Shades’s and Duracell’s brains earlier.”
The other women had told Tahira that Cain had been practicing the lifestyle for years, while Tristan had started his training not long after he’d started working for Trident. She might be seeing them in the club at some point and would have to remember they would be there as Doms, not her bodyguards.
“Relax, Tahira.” Ian held out his hand to Angie as she joined them and pulled her onto his lap, resting his hand on her large belly in a possessive manner. “We’re just going to talk today and get you used to the D/s atmosphere. I looked over your limit list with Master Darius . . .” His gaze flickered to Darius for a moment. “By the way, I won a $100 bet with Boomer that you’d get that title someday. And I know that, as a couple, you’ll never be hard-core. You have very few green and yellow limits, which is not uncommon for those new to the lifestyle, and you both can renegotiate as your D/s relationship grows. Both Trudy and your Dom think dipping your toes into BDSM will help you deal with your abduction, Tahira.” And her unmentioned rape, of course. “And I agree with them. So, I’m going to ask you one last time—are you here under your own free will? Are you willing to hand over control to your Dom as you’ve negotiated already? And are you willing to follow the protocols of this club while you are here? That includes calling the Doms Sir or Mistress or their preferred address.”
She got the obvious hint. “Yes, Sir, I am here under my own free will and agree to everything you said.”
“Good girl.”
If she wasn’t mistaken, there was a proud tone in the man’s voice, and it made her feel more confident. She could do this.
Darius placed his fingers under her chin and turned her face until she was looking in his eyes. They were filled with warmth and adoration. “Are you comfortable?”
She shifted onto her hip and nodded. “Yes, thank you for asking.” He raised his eyebrows at her, and she added, “Sir.”
Beaming, he said, “You’re welcome.”
Ian had told her the truth; the six of them just talked for the next hour and a half. A few times, the Sawyer brothers had demonstrated something on their subs, to make sure Darius and Tahira understood the different types of play—with none of them involving sexual intercourse. Ian had managed to steer the conversation away from the topic anytime Tahira started getting uneasy—the man could read body language and expressions better than anyone she knew with the exception of Amar. As if he’d also sensed her bouts of apprehension, Darius had taken the opportunity to touch her and ground her to him each time. She was amazed at how in tune he was with her, even without her vocalizing her fears or concerns. She’d heard and read about the kind of connection many couples had, but this was the first time she’d experienced it, and she loved finding out it was real and possible.
They’d told Darius how to check her extremities if he used any of the restraints she’d agreed to try—if they were too tight, they would cut off her circulation. With Kristen draped over his lap, Devon had shown Darius how to administer a non-punishment spanking—only striking his wife’s rear end and upper thighs lightly and never in the same spot twice. Tahira was grateful they’d all stayed clothed—Kristen had been dressed similarly to Tahira, while Angie wore a cute, maternity sundress.
She got the impression the other two couples had given them a very vanilla introduction into the lifestyle. They’d gone over all the protocols and ways that Darius could help Tahira relax and relinquish control to him during a scene. By the time they parted, Tahira had felt more confident she and Darius were doing the right thing and couldn’t wait to get home to discuss things with him in private. Maybe they’d practice a few of the new things she’d learned.
36
Darius stared at the ass with a combination of amusement and sense of being creeped out. He’d thought Ian was kidding when he’d handed him the “Butt-in-a-Box,” as the head Dom had called it. It was a silicone covered “ass” that reminded Darius of the same stuff that CPR dummies were made of. He was supposed to use it to practice spanking his sub. If he hit it too softly, a digital female voice would say “harder,” while a red light lit up on the attached control box. If he hit it too hard, he’d get an “ouch” and the red light again. Just right, and the damn thing would moan while giving him a green light. Seriously? Who thought up shit like this? Someone with too much time on their hands, probably.
“Are you going to take it out of the box or just stare at it all evening?”
Tahira had joined him in a sitting room attached to his bedroom after they’d shared a nice dinner while discussing what they’d learned at the club. She seemed much more comfortable talking about it when it was just the two of them. While they would need to continue to train at the club, Darius knew most of their D/s relationship would take place at home. Neither of them was an exhibitionist, although they were both, apparently, a bit voyeuristic. He’d been surprised when Tahira had confessed to getting turned on when Devon had spanked Kristen, which he’d admitted he’d found arousing as well.
He glanced at her to see a cheeky grin on her face. She loved this. “Keep it up, Princess. Soon this thing will be replaced with your backside.”
“I am willing to try that after you practice a bit. Are you going to name ‘her’?”
He snorted loudly. “Not.”
Sighing, he took the life-sized ass out of the box. “You’re going to watch me do this?”
Her giggling warmed his heart. She was putting the rape further and further from her mind as time passed and was laughing more lately. While he knew she was still having some nightmares and some waking flashbacks—she was coming to him for comfort now when they occurred—she was getting back to her old self. Well, not really. Her old self had been cute and nice. This newer version of Tahira was someone who stirred Darius’s heart and soul. He was falling in love with her—hell, he was already there. Did she feel the same? In another place and time, could they have made a marriage work? It would be difficult to let her go when the time came, but it would be even worse to see her fall in love with some jackass who Darius would want to kill for just breathing the same air as Tahira.
“Of course. As you said, it is my ass that will be replacing it soon, so I think watching will help me prepare for it.”
She’d been tittering her way through her words, and Darius couldn’t suppress his own laughter. Taking a seat next to her on the small sofa, he set the contraption on his thighs. Tahira grabbed the control box from where it had been hanging down the side of his leg by its cord, stood, and plugged it into the wall next to the couch. As she sat beside him again, she flipped the “On” switch. “She is ready when you are.”
He glared at her. “You’re having way too much fun with this.”
Her smile dropped, and sadness filled her eyes. Darius wanted to kick his own ass when she said, “Before my abduction and rape, I enjoyed all the fun in my life. I want that back, Darius. You make me smile and laugh. You make me remember the joys in life. I will not let those bastards win. I am taking back everything they tried to strip from me. You have helped me with some of it, but I m
ust take control of my life in for me to live it like I wanted to before everything had changed. I am grateful I only remember bits and pieces of what was done to me. I wish Lahana was the same—she said she remembers everything.”
“You spoke to her again?”
She shook her head, sadly. “No. She is still refusing to answer my calls or texts. Nala told me. She said Lahana is still angry that you rescued me in time and no one stopped him from raping her.”
“But I wasn’t in time.” He moved the artificial ass from his lap to the floor, then shifted his hips to face her. He cupped her cheek. “I’m sorry I—”
“No, Darius. Do not apologize again. None of what happened was your fault. In fact, you saved me from a worse fate. Lahana had been with him for hours and look how she was returned to us—bruises all over her. I only had a few. He was probably going to rape me again, and you stopped him from doing so.”
No matter how many times she told him it wasn’t his fault, he would forever carry the guilt of not reaching her before that fucking bastard defiled her. While he would never be able to make it up to her, he could at least try. Lowering his head to hers, he kissed and licked her mouth, encouraging her to open for him. As their tongues dueled, he pulled her onto his lap—to hell with the fake ass; he wanted the real thing.
Positioning her until she was straddling him, he molded his hands to her butt cheeks and squeezed. Over the years, he’d played some light “slap and tickle” with many women, but he’d never made any of them cry. After his conversations with his Dom buddies and Dr. Dunbar and some research, he now knew making Tahira cry, during BDSM play, could be very cathartic for her. She didn’t need to be “on” with him—pasting a false smile on her face and pretending everything was fine. Behind closed doors, she was free to be just Tahira—woman, friend, lover. Her royal title wasn’t necessary in this setting, and he honestly believed she preferred it that way. While he wouldn’t lay a sharp hand on her ass just yet, not without practice, getting her used to him touching her so intimately was a good place to start.
Forty Days & One Knight: Trident Security Omega Team Book 2 Page 23