by Maya Banks
Fuck.
He stuffed the recorder into his desk and locked it. Then he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the polished wooden surface. He ran both hands through his hair and closed his eyes in frustration.
Was her mother on her way here? Would she exploit the fact that Pop had paid her off in the past? And would she even bother involving Faith, or would she use Pop’s desire to protect Faith against him?
Hell of a mess. So many lives involved. And justice was at the heart of the whole cluster fuck. Alex was dead. His killer had to pay.
The end justified the means. If Alex’s killer was put away, all of this would be worth it. Even Faith’s anger.
If he was truly convinced of this, why then did guilt weigh so heavy on him? Why did he picture Faith’s sweet smile, remember the feel of her skin against his, her lips on his? And why did he want more?
It was stupid and foolhardy to initiate any sort of romantic entanglement with her. He snorted. Romantic? Who said anything about romantic? Last he checked, wanting to fuck a woman’s brains out wasn’t construed as romance.
He had a lot of thinking to do. He needed to call Mick so together they could come up with the best plan of action. Gray still wasn’t convinced that he and Mick were handling this just right, but with Billings brushing them off and not devoting the resources necessary to bring Alex’s killer to justice, Gray didn’t see that they had a lot of choice in the matter.
He shoved back from his desk, stood, then headed for the door. As he passed Faith’s office, he halted and backtracked. He may as well make sure the tap was still securely in place in case the mother called again.
Moving swiftly, he walked around her desk in the darkness and turned on the small desk light so he could see. He examined her phone and made sure everything was to his satisfaction. Then he made sure everything on her desk was as he’d found it. His gaze flickered across her open day planner as he reached for the button on the light.
His hand stilled, and he pulled it away as he read the entry circled in red. The House. 11:00 P.M. Friday night. It was written on today’s date, and below was an address in north Houston.
The name was familiar to him, and he searched his memory for why. He could swear it was the name of the kink club Micah had gone on about one day over lunch. But why on earth would Faith be making plans to visit if they were one and the same?
He opened her drawer and yanked out a pen and a piece of paper from a notepad. He scribbled the address down then closed the drawer again. After turning the light off, he hurried back to his own office where he turned his computer on.
He drummed his fingers impatiently as he waited for it to boot. As soon as the screen lit up with his desktop icons, he clicked on the browser and went to a search engine page.
There, he typed in the name and address he’d lifted from Faith’s planner and waited for the results. When he clicked on the first link, he bit out a curse. Faith’s house and Micah’s were one and the same. Somehow Gray knew that Faith wasn’t a regular member, because surely that wouldn’t have escaped Micah’s notice.
What the fuck was she doing making an appointment at a freaking kink club? Did she not have a clue what went on there? Hell, he’d never set foot in the place, but the things Micah had talked about were more than enough to paint a vivid picture in Gray’s mind of what happened behind those big wrought-iron gates.
Which could only mean she had no idea what she was getting into. And the idea of another man putting his hands on her made him feel slightly murderous. He didn’t even want to get into the whys and wherefores of that particular quirk.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” Gray muttered. “Get a grip.”
He ought to call Pop and let him or Connor deal with it. But as quickly as that thought popped into his head, he tossed it aside. He wasn’t a kid busting a gut to run and tattle, for God’s sake. Faith was a grown woman. Maybe she was doing a little experimenting. No need to embarrass her by having her brother haul her out of the place.
Which left him. No way he could let her walk into that kind of situation. She was sweet. Far too innocent for the likes of what a place like The House offered its patrons. Shit, knowing his luck, she’d end up as someone’s damn sex slave for the night.
That thought propelled him to his feet. He was out the door in a few seconds. He fumbled with the security codes on his way out before he strode out to the parking lot and his truck.
He flipped open his cell phone and punched in Micah’s number. The damn club was exclusive, and he couldn’t get in without Micah’s help. Hell, he might not get in anyway. But he’d damn sure see if could.
He tried Micah’s home number and his cell without any luck. Growling in frustration, he stepped on the accelerator and headed toward the apartment complex.
When he whipped into the parking lot a few minutes later, he saw Micah’s truck parked outside his unit. Faith was already gone.
He hopped out of the truck and hurried up to Micah’s door. He knocked loudly and waited. When Micah didn’t immediately come to the door, he pounded harder.
A few seconds later, the door jerked open, and Micah stood in the doorway holding a towel around his waist. He glared at Gray. “This better be damn good, Montgomery.”
Before Gray could respond, he heard a female voice in the background ask Micah who it was. Micah turned and held out a placating hand. “Give me just one minute, babe.”
Gray sighed. Interrupting Micah during sex couldn’t be all that uncommon, considering the guy had a girl over every other day. He didn’t have time for this shit.
Micah turned around to stare at him again, his scowl ferocious. “Now what the fuck do you want?” he demanded.
“I need you to get me into The House or whatever the fuck it is you call it.”
Micah blinked several times. His mouth popped open, and a look of incredulity spread over his features. “You came over here at eleven damn o’clock at night because you’ve got an itch you want to scratch?”
“Not me, dumb-ass. Apparently Faith has an appointment there. As we speak.”
Micah’s expression rapidly changed from annoyance to sharp interest. He held up his hand. “Whoa. Wait a minute. Faith is going to The House?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Gray said impatiently. “Is there any way you can get me in? Pull some strings or something?”
Micah ignored Gray’s question and shook his head in confusion. “What the fuck is she doing going there? That’s no place for a girl like her.”
Gray threw up his hands and growled in frustration.
“Okay, okay, look,” Micah said, holding both hands up in appeasement. “Let me get dressed. I’ll head over there to see what the fuck is going on.”
“No.”
Micah looked up in surprise.
“I’ll go. You just get me in there,” Gray said emphatically. “Besides, you’ve got company to entertain. I’ll take care of Faith.”
Micah gave him a long, assessing look. His eyes narrowed, and he frowned. “What the hell is going on between you and Faith?”
Gray sighed. They were wasting a hell of a lot of time. “Nothing is going on between me and Faith. I was just concerned when I learned where she was going. I don’t think she has a clue what she’s getting into. I don’t want to see her get hurt.”
“On that we agree,” Micah said. “You head over there. Do you know where it is?”
Gray nodded.
“Okay, you go. I’ll call over and arrange for you to get in. I’m good friends with the guy who owns it.”
Gray turned without responding and hurried back out to his truck. He felt a little foolish making such a big deal out of this, and he’d risked looking an even bigger fool by coming over to Micah’s like this, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Faith was in way over her head.
CHAPTER 14
Faith pulled up to the gate guarding the driveway to the large house looming up the hill. When she drew abreast
of the small security box, she rolled down her window and leaned out to push the button.
“Can I help you?” a polite voice inquired.
She breathed in nervously. “I have an appointment. My name is Faith Malone.”
“Please proceed, Miss Malone.”
The gate slowly swung open, and she started forward, accelerating up the winding lane. When she pulled up to the house, she saw a secluded parking lot, not visible from the entrance. A large brick wall covered with ivy separated the lot from the sprawling front lawn.
She drove around the partition and eased into a parking spot beside a sleek Mercedes. As she got out and surveyed the array of very expensive cars, she glanced self-consciously back at her Honda Accord.
What kind of people gathered here? Were they all rich, bored types looking for cheap thrills?
“Nothing like making sweeping generalizations,” she muttered as she headed for the double wooden doors ahead.
Before she could raise the heavy knocker, the door swung open, and she found herself staring at a good-looking, well-dressed man. Okay, not just good-looking, but very good-looking.
He smiled broadly at her. “You must be Faith.” He held his hand out to her. “I’m Damon.”
She took his hand, shook it and smiled in return. She felt some of her nervousness dissipate. “I’m so glad to meet you. I feel as though I know you with all the e-mails we’ve exchanged in the last week.”
He chuckled then gestured for her to enter. “Please, come in.”
She walked in ahead of him and paused, waiting for him to go in front of her. The foyer was elegantly decorated, the lighting dim enough to make the interior look warm and inviting but not so dark as to give off a sinister aura.
Damon walked up beside her and placed a hand to her back. “If you’ll come this way, our first stop will be the sitting room where you can relax for a moment and have a drink.”
He ushered her into a smaller room just beyond the foyer. The inside was classy yet comfortable. A large Oriental rug stretched across highly polished wood floors, ending just in front of a dark brown leather couch. To the right sat two overstuffed casual chairs, the kind that would swallow you up whole as soon as you sat down.
“Why don’t you have a seat. Would you care for a glass of wine?”
Faith nodded and started toward one of those comfy-looking chairs.
“By the way, I like what you decided to wear very much.”
She turned around, her cheeks heating as she saw his gaze slide up and down her bare legs. Damon’s lips lifted in a half smile before he walked over to the wall and pressed a button on what looked to be an intercom system.
She glanced down at the form-fitting skirt that clipped her legs about two inches above her knee. The shoes, well, she had to admit, they were purely for show. In a moment of pure weakness, she’d spent a hell of a lot of money on the sex-on-a-sole shoes.
But they made her feel sexy, vibrant and a little bad. Okay, a whole lot bad. With a tiny grin, she sank into the soft leather chair and forced herself to relax.
Damon joined her a few seconds later. Moments after he sat down on the couch across from her chair, the door opened, and a man who looked every bit the butler out of some stodgy English movie walked in carrying a serving tray.
He bent and offered her one of the crystal flutes. Her eyes widened, and she smiled at the oh-so-proper man. She was only a little disappointed that he didn’t have a British accent.
She took a glass and lifted it to her nose to inhale the aroma of the wine. The butler offered Damon a glass next then inclined his head toward Faith and retreated from the room.
“I’m guessing most of your clients are higher end,” Faith said before sipping the wine.
Damon chuckled. “It’s all about appearances. If you want to attract the right clientele, you have to establish yourself on their level.”
“You certainly dress the part,” she said dryly, her gaze moving up and down his expensive silk shirt and designer slacks.
He smiled lazily at her. “Are you comfortable here?”
She blinked at his sudden change of topic. After a moment’s thought, she realized she wasn’t nearly as nervous as she had been. But then this was probably part of the game plan. Ply the potential member with booze until they were too soused to worry about what they were getting into.
A giggle escaped her at that thought.
Damon looked at her in amusement. “You truly are as delightful in person as you came across on the phone and in your e-mails. I was prepared to be disappointed. I’m glad I wasn’t.”
Faith blushed, her cheeks warming under his scrutiny.
He leaned forward and set his glass on the mahogany coffee table. “The House is divided into two levels. The lower level is where all the socializing occurs. We invite a very relaxed, laidback atmosphere. Rooms are set up for patrons to mingle, talk, get to know each other. We have strict guidelines for what occurs on the main level.”
She pressed the rim of the glass to her lips and took a long swallow of the wine. Flutters abounded in her stomach as she listened. It was real. She was really here about to dive headfirst into…what? She wasn’t even sure.
“The second level is where the action is, so to speak. There are a variety of rooms. Some private. Some open to the public. There is a main room, quite large, where the space is divided into different sections. This is the common area, where you’ll find a variety of activities concentrated in one place. Some of our patrons enjoy the public aspect of it while others prefer and demand strict privacy. We accommodate both.”
She leaned forward, her interest alive, her curiosity insatiable. “And what happens in these public areas?”
Damon smiled. “Anything and everything. You must prepare yourself for any possibility. The House is a place to let your inhibitions fly away. When you step through our doors, you are free to become someone else entirely, or, as I suspect in your case, embrace who you really are. No one is judged here. We are very open and accepting of all lifestyles.”
“And the membership qualifications,” Faith began. “You said they were stringent. I assume this means that members are screened and that the ‘activities’ here are monitored for safety?”
“Excellent question,” Damon said, his eyes flaring with approval. “Our members do go through a strenuous screening process. We require extensive background checks. No one with any criminal record, regardless of charge, is allowed membership.
“All rooms are monitored by our staff. For those congregating in the public areas, staff members maintain a presence at all times. For the members who prefer private accommodations, well, even then they aren’t afforded complete privacy because we have surveillance cameras installed in each room, and a staff member closely monitors them at all times.
“Not only are we dedicated to providing an environment where members may play out their fantasies and lifestyle choices, but we absolutely guarantee the safety of each and every participant.”
Her eyes widened. “That seems a lot to guarantee.”
Damon nodded. “Yes, but we are one hundred percent committed to keeping that promise. We do not hesitate to step in if we feel the situation is unsafe for one or more members.”
Faith was impressed by his confidence and his air of authority. In fact, he managed to make her feel not so much like a weird freak sneaking around some seedy sex club looking for cheap thrills.
“Are you ready for your tour?” he asked.
She swallowed and set her glass down on the coffee table. “Yes. Yes, I think I am.”
CHAPTER 15
He stood and offered his hand to her. She took his hand and let him help her rise. Her legs trembled, and she hoped she could keep her knees from knocking together. She found she wasn’t so much nervous as she was excited. Intrigued. And more than a little turned on.
“I’ll be with you every step of the way. If you have any questions, any concerns, I’ll be happy to address them.”
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Faith smiled. “Okay then. I’m ready.”
He tucked her hand under his arm and escorted her out the door of the sitting room. “We’ll tour the social rooms on the lower level first. It will give you an idea of how relaxed things are here. No one will expect you to interact or to greet them unless that is your wish. Everyone here is well used to circumspection.”
She squeezed his arm with her fingers. He turned and looked questioningly at her.
“I really appreciate all you’ve done to make me feel at ease. If you do this with all your members, I can understand why your establishment is so successful.”
He smiled and laid his hand over hers. “I just hope you find what it is you’re looking for.”
So do I.
They entered a larger room where several people stood and sat around talking. It was a party environment, but not the loud, raucous variety. This was more like an upscale gathering where the talk was hushed. Soothing piano music played in the background, and a waiter walked among those gathered, distributing glasses of wine and hors d’oeuvres.
A few turned and smiled at Damon, but none approached him.
“This is the main meeting room. Usually the first stop for anyone coming into The House. From here, people split off or go on upstairs to other pursuits. It’s not always about sex or wanting to play. Many of our members just come here to meet with like-minded people and spend the evening talking and visiting.”
They spent a few moments circling the room, and Faith tried hard not to study the other members. They’d certainly afforded her the courtesy of not staring. But still, she couldn’t resist quick glances from the corners of her eyes.
There was an interesting mix of people. Some were dressed to the nines while others had adopted a much more casual look. Jeans, T-shirts, tennis shoes. She was glad she’d opted for a compromise between übercasual and very dressy.
Absent, much to her relief, were the leather Klingon costumes she was embarrassed to admit she’d thought she’d see. To her further surprise, the people gathered all looked like normal, average, everyday people.