by Leah Braemel
“Then why don’t you turn around and bend over. See how you feel when I shove one of my dildos up your ass.”
He glanced to the side, his jaw clenched. “All right, maybe I pushed things a little hard on you tonight. How about next time we don’t use a gag, so you can tell me exactly what you like?”
“No. There’ll be no next time. We’re through. I don’t ever want to see you again. You got that?”
“Yeah, I got it, bitch.” He released her and headed into the bedroom.
Unable to stand, Jazz crawled across the room on her hands and knees, past the coffee table to the couch. He didn’t know there was another button concealed beneath the side table. “I want you the fuck out of this place. Now.”
He reappeared with his clothes, cursing her with each item he pulled on. Once dressed, he stomped into the living room and shut his laptop without turning it off. “Tomorrow when you realize how wrong you are, you’ll be phoning me. Wait and see. You’re just embarrassed because you got off on it.”
“No. I’m not ever going to call you.” But the cops would. After she filed her report and pressed rape charges against him. “Now you get the fuck out of my place. Before I call the cops.”
He shoved the laptop into his bag and tucked it under his arm. “So call them. I’ll play the cops the videos I’ve made. They’ll prove that you agreed to everything that happened tonight. And the cops will know you’re the liar. It’s not me they’ll charge. It’s you. It’s against the law to lay false charges.”
Video? He was lying. He had to be. Except…her gaze dropped to the laptop bag clutched beneath his arm. The laptop he’d left open on the dresser. Oh God. No. He wouldn’t. Would he?
“Yeah, that’s right.” He tapped his bag. “I taped it using the webcam. I won’t have to say a word to defend myself. Yeah, you didn’t notice my laptop was on the whole time, did you, you stupid bitch? I taped all our other little sessions too. And all those games we played. So don’t threaten me, because it’s all here, Jazz baby. Once the cops see the video, they’ll see that the handcuffs were yours. They’ll see you handing them to me. Hear you telling me you liked pain.
“Oh, and if you blab anything about me to any of your bodyguard friends, I’ll post the entire video on the Internet for everyone to see. Then I’ll set up ads on Craigslist claiming to be you looking for a partner willing to hurt you during sex, talking about how you love pain, how you love to be abused. By the time I’m done, there won’t be a person on earth who will believe a word you say. And they’ll all know you’re nothing more than a whore.”
The screams started up in her head—screams of frustration, of anger. “You fucking bastard.” He was right. Everything he’d said was true. She had handed him her handcuffs, sat quietly while he’d put them on. Agreed to be gagged. They’d never believe her.
He ran the back of one knuckle down her cheek. “So when I call and ask to see you again? And I will call—you’re going to invite me back.” Not a question. A statement. The fucker was that sure of himself.
“You’re never coming back here, you bastard.” She balled her fist, pulled back her elbow and let fly. The satisfying sound of bone crunching, the warmth of his blood spurting over her knuckles, was worth the pain in her hand. “Next time, I’ll have more than a fist for your face. I’ll have a gun.”
Music and laughter engulfed Cooper Davis when he walked through the Rouge’s double doors. “Any problems tonight, Fred?”
“No, sir.” The club’s doorman helped Cooper off with his coat. “I’ve notified Miss Delayna that you’ve arrived, sir. She’ll be here momentarily as you’ve requested.”
No sooner had Fredrickson finished speaking than a side door opened and a dark-haired woman joined them. With a nod to Cooper, she shrugged out of the terry spa robe she wore and handed it to the doorman.
“Good evening, Delayna.”
With a soft huff, she handed Cooper a leash attached to the leather collar around her neck. “You’re late. Did you run into problems?”
“Only that Senator Brannally was long-winded in his speech tonight as usual.” He wrapped the leather strap around his wrist. “Did you walk George?”
“Yes, sir. He’s asleep in your office.”
After Fredrickson opened the double stained glass inner doors leading to the club’s common area, Cooper walked down the hall toward the music that mingled with voices and the occasional crack of a whip.
As she’d been trained, Delayna padded after him, leaving the requisite amount of space to keep the leash loose. With her background, she’d never have qualified for admission to the club as a member, which would have been a pity.
“Did tonight’s session in the guest house get recorded?”
“Yes, sir. It’s burning to a DVD even as we speak.”
“Excellent.” The noise of the whip, and the moans of the other members grew louder the closer they got to the central hallway. Ah, yes, one of the billionaires from the west coast had planned a public discipline session with his sub tonight. “McPherson didn’t suspect the cameras existed?”
“He only checked to ensure the regular cameras were turned off.” Obviously he hadn’t found the special ones Davis had ordered installed two weeks before when one of their members had hosted a bachelor party with some very interesting guests. Guests that provided him with footage ensuring he’d have access to information his regular contacts couldn’t provide.
“Baker phoned from Val Varde, sir. He wants you to phone him as soon as you’re in the bunker.”
Shit. He tugged on the leash, not enough to pull her off her feet, but she’d get the message he was not pleased she’d waited to impart that nugget. If she were truly his sub, he’d be borrowing the congressman’s whip. “Did he say why?”
“No, sir, only that it was imperative that you return his call.”
They passed through another set of double doors into the rotunda with its soaring dome. Neither spared the couples in various states of undress copulating in the grotto at the far end even a glance, nor was their passage acknowledged by any of the members. He headed to the marble staircase leading to the Founding Members’ wing. They were halfway to his private suite when another member’s door opened and a couple emerged, the man dressed in leather chaps, the woman leading him by a leash similar to the one wrapped around Cooper’s own hand.
Turning quickly, Cooper shoved Delayna against the wall and captured her mouth with his. His operative tensed until her gaze flickered sideways and found the reason for his embrace. As the couple approached, Delayna relaxed into his hold and accepted the kiss with a moan that shot straight to his groin. Cooper couldn’t help sinking into the kiss, enjoying her honeyed taste along with the feel of her skin against his. If she felt his hard-on against her belly, he had no clue, nor did he care. It couldn’t be helped. She was a sensuous woman with full plump lips to match her luscious breasts and generous hips. Pity she was his employee and not his lover in truth.
The hallway empty again, he stepped back. Without saying a word, he rewound the leash around his fist and headed to the room at the end of the hall. Once inside Delayna shut the door and unclipped her collar.
He crossed the room and opened the secret panel leading to the stairs down to his group’s bunker, not waiting for her to don the sweat pants and camouflage tee she’d left at the door.
Moments later, he heard her steps light and quick on the stairs. “May I ask why it was necessary for this charade? Why didn’t you head straight to your office when you arrived?”
“Because it was necessary for me to be seen in the common areas. If I am not seen coming to my rooms on occasion, people will start asking questions as to where I am.” He paused on the landing and fixed her with a look that had her stopping half a flight above. Her caution pleased him. “We’ve been through this before. If you do not wish to accept your role, then you may leave the Brigade.”
A flush rose up her neck though stopped short of her face. “I have
no desire to leave the group, sir.” Her lids dropped, hiding the expression in her eyes, though not on her face. Interesting. It wasn’t embarrassment or even anger, but lust she sought to hide. “Sometimes it is difficult for me to be…submissive.”
“Noted. But it is necessary for the roles we play.” He continued down the three floors until they reached the sub-basement, wondering how he could use Delayna’s attraction to his own purposes, as well as those of the Brigade.
Chapter Fourteen
He didn’t remember falling asleep but he must have for he woke up to Jocelyne shaking him.
“Monsieur, I am sorry to disturb you but there’s an important call for you. You may take it in my office.”
He carefully extracted himself from the tangle of Sandy’s limbs and climbed from the bed. Though she frowned, Sandy snuggled in his spot and stayed asleep. Muttering to himself that the phone call had better the hell be important for taking him away from a night with Sandy in his arms, he grabbed a robe. Without saying a word, Jocelyne led him to her office then left him alone. The display showed it was an internal call. Which meant it could only be one person.
“McPherson.”
“Garcia’s arrived in Val Varde.” Cooper Davis’s clipped speech shot out of the receiver.
He forced himself to concentrate on the implications of Davis’s announcement. “I thought that fucker was planning to stay in Colombia for another week.”
“Plans changed, I guess. Which means we’ve had to change ours. We take off from Andrews in ninety minutes with or without you.”
Shit, that was going to cut things close. “I’ll be there.”
He got an outside line then dialed Sam’s private number. Sam answered on the second ring.
“A situation has come up in Kinshasa.” While they had clients in Africa, he could only hope Sam wouldn’t ask for more details. “I need to fly out this morning. I’ll be gone for at least forty-eight hours, probably more like seventy-two.”
Silence filled the connection for a long moment before Sam’s deep voice rumbled over the line. “Take care of yourself, you hear?”
He stabbed the button, ending the connection, and dialed his backup. “Heads up. I’m going to be out of the loop for at least two days.” He quickly ran down the outstanding issues and made sure his own agents could handle their assignments.
Troy unlocked his apartment but stalled opening the door. He was pretty sure Sandy hadn’t seen Scott in the parking lot when they’d left the club, nor would she have any reason to check that Scott’s engine would still be warm where it sat in the parking lot. He should have sent her home in a limo but the thought of sending her off alone felt wrong. Like she was a one-night stand, which she definitely wasn’t. “I’m sorry about bailing on the weekend. But this situation in the Congo can’t be put off.”
“It’s all right.” Sandy squeezed his hand. “We can try again another weekend.”
He pushed open the door, blocking it until he made sure Scott had already arrived. “Don’t mind the mess. The lady I have come in and clean up after us only comes once a week. She’s due in tomorrow.”
Sandy’s lips firmed but the tips of them twitched as if she were trying not to smile. “I forgot two guys living in one apartment equals frat central.”
He snatched up the empty pizza boxes from the coffee table. And the half-dozen Starbucks cups. And the discarded Mrs. Fields cookie box and wrappers. The dirty socks got kicked under the couch. “Um, yeah, pretend you didn’t see these. Let me give Scott a heads-up that I’m back.”
Leaving her in the living room, he headed to Scott’s bedroom door and knocked, reminding himself that he had to pretend Scott had been there the whole time. “Hey, Scott. You awake?”
At Scott’s answer, he opened the door and found Scott shrugging out of his jacket. “Look, I was wondering if you could do me a favor?” He kept his voice louder than he normally would so Sandy would overhear. “Something urgent’s come up over in the Congo. I have to head to the airport right away. Can you drive Sandy home and make sure she’s not thinking I’ve run out on her.” He lowered his voice. “Thanks for getting back here without her seeing. I owe you one.”
Scott didn’t bother hiding his smirk. “Yeah, you do. Man, you’ve got it bad for her, don’t you?”
“Fuck you.” Yet as he headed back to the living room, Scott’s taunt became an earworm. Yeah, he had it bad. For a woman who didn’t want any long-term relationship with him. How fucked-up was that?
Sandy was waiting right where he’d left her, her eyes still heavy-lidded and sleep filled. Damn, what he would have given to have woken up to her in the morning looking like that. To wake her by thrusting into her while she was all sleep soft. To wake up every day beside her.
Lost in the depth of her eyes, the curve of her jaw, the softness of her skin, he rested his forehead against hers. Sandy was self-effacing and down-to-earth. She was also sexy and funny and sensual as hell. She didn’t crave the spotlight like some of the women he’d dated.
Dated. No, somehow that seemed wrong for her. Courted, as outdated and archaic as that word was these days, suited her better. She deserved to be pampered and feted, placed up on a pedestal.
The words “I love you” hovered on his tongue but he swallowed them. If he said them out loud, she’d think he’d want to tie her down when he wanted to show her how she could fly beside him. How they could have adventures never leaving their bedroom. How he could show her things she’d dreamed of seeing, take her places she’d always wanted to go. But if he didn’t say them, if something happened to him on this mission…
While he was debating whether to take that leap, she lifted her face and captured his lips. He sank into her kiss like she was oxygen and he was drowning.
We take off from Andrews in ninety minutes with or without you. Damn it, that window was closing and too damned fast. Hating that he had to leave her, he ended the kiss. God, he hated the idea of leaving her. “I have to go.”
She followed the curve of his ear with one finger. He marveled at how provocative she could be with such a simple touch. “Promise you’re not going to be in danger and you’ll come back in one piece?”
No one had ever asked him to do that. Not because they cared about him.
“I’ll be fine.” Why did Garcia have to choose this weekend to leave his hideout? Why couldn’t he have stayed where he was another forty-eight hours? Was that too much to ask?
Sandy covered a yawn with her hand.
Damn, he’d worn her out. “Why don’t you sleep here tonight? Scott can drive you home in the morning.”
Her nose crinkled, no doubt wondering whether his sheets were clean or not. Given the state of the living room, he couldn’t fault her for her hesitation. “The bedding was changed on Wednesday.” Two days of him sleeping in it shouldn’t be too bad. Should it? “I like the idea of you sleeping in my bed. Waking up in it, even if I can’t be there.”
She yawned again, then nodded. “All right. Scott’ll probably prefer not having to leave his warm bed to go out in the cold to drive me around anyway.”
“He will. There’s fresh linen in the closet if you want to change it.” He raised his voice. “Hey, Scott. You can go back to sleep; Sandy’s going to sleep here for the night.”
“Geez, get dressed. Don’t get dressed. Make up your mind, man,” Scott grumbled from the bedroom in a good imitation of a man just awoken.
Removing his arm from Sandy’s waist was an almost physical pain, but he needed to pack. He settled for holding her hand and leading her into his bedroom. Shoot. He should have at least made the bed before he left. And maybe picked up his clothes. He grabbed his duffel bag from where he’d left it from his last trip. Sandy sat cross-legged on the bed, staying quiet as he packed.
Neither of them spoke until he zipped the case and put it on the floor. He knelt on the bed beside her and pulled her into a hug. Damn it, he didn’t want to leave her. Not right now. “I shouldn’t be gone m
ore than a couple days.”
“Promise you’ll call me to let me know you got there safely, or at least when you’re coming back?” She seemed to be having the same problem he did disentangling herself from him.
“I may not have cell phone service. But I’ll call from the plane on the flight back, I promise.” He hefted his bag and walked to the front door.
Her, “I’ll miss you,” made the thirty-foot walk to the elevator feel like a mile. Especially the way she stayed in the doorway, watching him.
Don’t look back. If you do, you won’t be able to leave.
Chapter Fifteen
Watching Troy walk away made her stomach jump in ways Sandy wasn’t used to. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t watched him leave for missions before. But this time…this time it was different. She’d read the reports, both the private Hauberk ones and the newspaper accounts, of all the turmoil going on in Africa. The risks he took were suddenly so much more real, so much more dangerous.
When the elevator arrived and he hesitated, looking back at her for a brief second, she clutched the doorframe to stop herself from running down the hallway and jumping in his arms.
“He’ll be all right,” Scott said. “Don’t worry.”
His reassurance might have had more strength if he hadn’t sounded doubtful himself.
She wandered back into the apartment. I couldn’t bear the thought that it might have hurt you. And if you found it enjoyable, I’d prefer that you think of me instead of a stranger. There’d been something different about the way he’d held her after they’d finished, gentle yet fiercely protective. And then there was how he’d paused to look back at her before he got on the elevator. Did that mean anything?
“You know, you’re the first woman he’s ever brought back here. Try not to screw him over.”