“Do whatever you think is best, Sam. That’s why I have you guys. You said there were a few new developments. What else have you got?”
Neely nodded, then hesitated before going on. “It’s about Miss Thornton, sir. We had surveillance equipment in place at Cabrera’s headquarters and we sent someone in last night to retrieve it now that he’s gone and the company will be closing down. All routine. But we inadvertently recorded several conversations between Miss Thornton and an agent from the FBI.”
Harmon’s eyebrows rose. “The FBI? It didn’t take them long to go after her.”
“Yes, sir. But the disturbing part is that she has agreed to work for them. She’ll be going undercover here at DreamQuest, looking for information that will implicate you in masterminding the theft at International Technology Consultants in exchange for immunity from prosecution on any charges stemming from her involvement in the matter.”
“That’s no problem. She won’t find anything.” Harmon could see from Sam’s face that there was more.
“Apparently the agent in charge used information about her intimate relationship with Cabrera to pressure her into accepting whatever terms of employment you offered her.” Neely looked uncomfortable, but he went on. “Agent Patterson specifically mentioned that you’ve been exploring the world of BDSM and you’re searching for a very special woman to become your sub. I thought you should know, sir, that if you become involved in a… personal relationship… with her, you can’t trust her, no matter how close you might think the two of you have become. We had a saying in our unit, sir. God gave men two heads, but only enough blood to use one of them at a time.” Neely met his gaze solidly. “I’m sorry for speaking so frankly, sir, but part of my job is telling you the things no one else has the guts to say.”
“You’re right, Sam. Thank you. Is there anything else?”
“No, sir. We know how and when she’ll be contacting Agent Patterson. I assume you’ll want us to monitor that communication?”
“Yes. I’ll be very interested in hearing what she has to say during those reports.”
Harmon walked out the door and closed it softly behind him. Normally he paid little attention to the handful of nuts who had a problem with him and his work. Most of them were harmless, like the conspiracy theorists, only wanting the attention they got from their online followers. Others feared change. They were determined to drive mankind back into the Dark Ages where they thought they’d be safe from machines that might evolve and take over the world.
But in the three years that Neely had worked for him, he’d never seen the man show any hint of emotion. For him to be so talkative, stressing possible threats and dangers, the situation with this bunch of fanatics must be serious. As for Kyra, he’d have to rethink his plans for her. Instead of heading for the lab, he turned the other way down the hall and ended up back in the gym. Marcus and Riley were working out, taking turns spotting each other on the bench press. They stopped when he came in.
“Ready for a workout, boss?” Marcus asked, grabbing a bottle of water and taking a long swig. He smiled casually.
“Yeah, I am. But I’ll just use the machines. You guys keep going. From what Neely tells me, it’s in my best interest to have all of you in top form right now.”
“You heard?” Riley’s face was calm, but Harmon wasn’t fooled. He figured that was ingrained, part of the man’s training. Never let ‘em see you sweat, no matter how dangerous the situation you’re in. These men were extremely well-paid, but as far as Harmon was concerned, there wasn’t enough money in the world to compensate them for putting their lives in danger on his behalf, a position he was sure they would willingly take. They were a different breed, these Special Forces guys. Adrenaline junkies. It seemed like they were only truly happy when shit was hitting the fan.
Harmon set the weights and began doing super sets. Leg curls, then presses, followed by an ab workout. The concentration he needed to bring to his workout absorbed every bit of his attention, freeing his mind for a while from its continuous whirl of thought. He barely noticed when the other two men left the room.
When he finally made his way to the lab, he locked the door behind him, a sign that he was not to be disturbed unless the building caught fire. Kyra Thornton would be here in a matter of hours. But not under the terms he’d originally expected. She’d gone from being an expensive plaything to an adversary. He wasn’t worried about her snooping around to implicate him in Cabrera’s theft. She’d find nothing. However, the idea that she would be reporting everything they did to a government agency concerned him. In his world, information about the newest technology was more valuable than gold. She’d be able to describe his experimental devices, how they worked. It wouldn’t take long before techs operating in labs all over the world were duplicating them.
Maybe he’d have to rely on old-fashioned methods of domination, at least at first. He went to a cabinet along one wall of the lab. Opening it, he ran his hand over an array of paddles and whips, feeling their weight, listening to the swish they made as he sliced through the air with each of them in turn. His cock hardened as he imagined how he’d begin Kyra’s training.
Chapter Six
Harmon closed the door to Kyra’s suite softly behind him and headed down the hall. Their first session had gone very well. She was certainly off-balance right now. He’d left her needy, desperate for release. He was needy too. His cock was hard, straining against his jeans. Paddling Kyra, then arousing her, excited him even more than he’d imagined it would during all those months of planning. He couldn’t wait to shove himself deep inside her, to feel her, hot and wet and tight around him.
He wanted to get into the lab, feed his observations about her into the program he’d created. Cabrera was right. She was the perfect sub. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear she had never been spanked like that, never been restrained and then aroused to the brink of orgasm. Her responsiveness was so real, so raw.
He’d spanked the pros he brought in much harder. They squealed and begged him to stop, but there was something forced and phony about their protests. Kyra’s stubborn refusal to make a sound no matter how firmly he wielded the paddle turned him on much more. She awakened all the dom tendencies he’d learned about but never experienced before. Suddenly he understood. Right now all he wanted was to redden that sweet ass until he made her cry out his name, swear she’d do anything he wanted. He’d spank her until she begged him to let her fall to her knees and take his big cock deep in her mouth.
He wanted to see her face when he broke down her barriers after a hard spanking and coaxed those tiny sounds of aching need from her despite herself. He wanted to touch her and taste her and penetrate her while she was tied down, spread apart, unable to resist. He wanted to hear those tiny sounds became screams of ecstasy.
* * *
Kyra stifled a groan as she sat down gingerly on the ottoman in her dressing room to unhook the black stockings. Her bottom was still stinging and she couldn’t resist the need to turn and inspect it in the long mirror on her way to retrieve her clothes from the closet. Yes, it was red. But it didn’t look as horrible as she’d feared. Still, her first real spanking hadn’t been anything like she’d imagined, all those times alone in her bed with her fingers busy between her legs. It hurt, far worse than she ever thought it would. In fact, she decided she never wanted a spanking again.
Except… there was that desperate need he’d awakened in her pussy right now. She wanted to be fucked. Hard. Mindless and frantic fucking, until she came over and over. She’d never felt like this before. She fought the overwhelming urge to bring herself to a quick orgasm. But he’d be monitoring those hidden cameras and she had no desire to repeat her punishment session so soon.
Maybe she wouldn’t mind being spanked next time if she got to come right afterwards, she mused, leaving the slutty outfit in a heap on the dressing room floor. She washed the tears from her face, wishing she had her bags so she could touch up her makeup. Searchi
ng for a comb, she opened a drawer in the bathroom vanity and found a full array of cosmetics. Lipsticks in much more vivid colors than her usual soft shade. Powder, blush in four different shades, and enough eye liner and shadow to make her look like an Egyptian princess.
Feeling a bit better, she applied powder and lipstick with a light hand and replaced the mascara that had been running in streaks down her face after crying so hard. Then she got back into her usual business attire. She’d worn a midnight blue suit today, with a cream-colored silk blouse underneath. Fully dressed, she gave herself a final once-over in the full-length mirror. That was when she realized the soft beige bra she’d worn was so sheer that her nipples were poking out, still hard.
Kyra sighed and buttoned her jacket. The rest of her underwear was in the suitcases that still hadn’t been returned to her. The bras that he’d provided were all elaborate creations in dark colors that would stand out under her light blouse, drawing even more attention to her shameless state of arousal.
She went back into the sitting room and sat primly on a chair, waiting. The loveseat was across the room, directly in her line of sight. She wondered how she had looked to Harmon when she was draped over the loveseat—her wrists bound behind her, her ass forced high in the air over the padded arm. She’d never been allowed to touch him or even to look at him, to see if his cock was hard under those low-slung jeans. It must have aroused him too. But he hadn’t demanded that she satisfy him in any way. The man had iron self-control.
There was a discreet knock at the door. She went to it and found Sam in the hall, her suitcases at his feet. He handed her the purse. “Mr. Harmon would like to see you in his office, ma’am,” he said. “I’ll just put your bags here in the foyer. Carmen will be along shortly to unpack for you.”
“Please, call me Kyra,” she replied. “And as for unpacking, I’d prefer to do that myself.” She breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently Sam hadn’t found the hidden recorder in her phone. The thought hit her suddenly that she’d better check later to see if the device was working. Had he found and disabled it? Kyra wondered how she would be able to continue this charade for the next six months. Her nerves were raw already and she’d barely begun.
Sam nodded. “I’ll let her know.”
He turned without another word and Kyra followed him down the hall and past the wide entryway to the cavernous living room she’d been in yesterday. They went about halfway down the hall on the other side of the elevator. Sam stopped and knocked at one of the white doors lining both sides of the hallway on this end of the building too.
He didn’t wait for a response, simply opened the door and ushered her inside. Jake Harmon sat behind a heavy wooden desk that was surprisingly traditional, unlike the rest of the sleek, ultra-modern furnishings he surrounded himself with elsewhere in the penthouse. He gestured to one of a pair of upholstered chairs in front of the desk.
“Kyra. Please, have a seat. Can I get you a cup of coffee or perhaps an iced tea?”
She shook her head.
“I hope your suite is satisfactory. Carmen or Esther will see to anything you need while you’re with us. They rotate so one of them is here from nine a.m. to six p.m. every day. In case you hadn’t noticed, there’s a house phone on one of the tables in your sitting room. It’s monitored 24/7, so if there’s anything you want after hours, just tell whoever answers and they’ll bring it to you.”
She stared at him, her mouth open. How could he do this, chatting away, nonchalant, as though he hadn’t paddled her naked ass and then licked her pussy until she nearly came just a little while ago? Maybe this was part of his strategy. Keep her off balance so she never knew which Jake Harmon to expect. If so, it was working. She could barely concentrate on his words. She kept staring at his hands, remembering how those fingers stroked her clit until she shuddered with need.
Well, if he could put it out of his mind, so could she. Kyra forced herself to pay attention as he slid a stack of papers across the desk.
“This is your contract. I think you’ll find all the provisions of our agreement are correct. There’s a bank statement showing the current balance of the escrow account at $500,000 as well as the paperwork for you to sign to open an account in your own name at that bank. Every Friday for the next six months I’ll transfer $20,000 from the escrow into your account. You can set up a password and check your account to verify that the funds are there. Once the deposit is made, you can transfer the money to any institution you want, anywhere in the world. I’m sure you won’t need assistance in doing that.” His smile was playful, inviting her to share a private joke regarding the circumstances that led to her being here.
She lowered her head and leafed through the stack of papers, willing her hands not to shake. Confidentiality agreement, letter giving her unlimited access to his legal team, employment contract, promissory note for a bonus of an additional $500,000 after the original contract was fulfilled. There was even a form requiring her social security number stating that taxes would be paid for her monthly, in addition to her exorbitant salary.
She read through the employment agreement and her eyes widened when she came to the part where she would be on call 24/7, prepared to submit to whatever discipline he required and to obey his every whim or command, immediately, with no protest or argument. In spite of the spanking she’d just received, seeing it there in black and white shocked her all over again.
Harmon was nothing if not thorough. He’d included a clause with a blank space for her to fill in whatever safe word she wanted, and then detailed the consequences she’d face if she chose to use it. Every clause required her to sign next to it, to prove she’d read it, understood it, and agreed to it. He was taking no chances. Kyra rummaged in her bag for a pen.
“Here, use mine,” Harmon said. “But first, let me get my administrative assistant in here to witness both our signatures.” He pressed a button on his desk and a side door opened. Another tall, well-built man walked in. He had the same short haircut and ramrod stance as the security guard in the lobby, except his dark hair had a few silver streaks around the temples. Despite his gray dress pants and blue long-sleeved shirt with a button-down collar, he looked a whole lot tougher and meaner than any office assistant Kyra had ever seen.
“Slade, this is Miss Thornton. She’ll be with us for the next few months, staying here in the penthouse guest suite.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Thornton,” he said, extending his hand.
“Please, call me Kyra,” she responded as they shook. His hand was hard, callused. This guy definitely hadn’t been pushing papers all his life. She wondered briefly why Harmon felt the need to surround himself with men who looked like they belonged to a SWAT team. Kyra bit back a nervous giggle at the thought of meeting Carmen and Esther. Would they look like body doubles for Bambi and Thumper, the female villains in that old Bond flick?
She flipped through the papers, scrawling her name on every line, hesitating a moment before coming up with a safe word to fill in the blank. As she finished each page, she handed it to Harmon for him to sign as well. Slade went through the papers, checked every signature, and signed as witness on the bottom of each form. He paused for a moment on one page, glanced up at her, then went on, his face betraying no emotion.
“I’ll see that you have copies of everything for your files,” he said. Kyra flushed with embarrassment, realizing that if Slade hadn’t known the lascivious details of her terms of employment before, he certainly did now.
“A few more caveats, Kyra,” Harmon said after Slade left the room. “You will carry the cell phone you were given at all times. If you leave the building during the daytime, make sure that either Slade or Sam knows when you’ll be back. I respect your need to have some free time, but per the terms of our agreement, I reserve the right to call or text while you’re away. If I do so, you are to return here immediately.”
He went on. “The men all call me Mr. Harmon but during business hours, feel free to cal
l me Jake. When I summon you by phone or text, however, you will refer to me as master or sir until I dismiss you.”
His eyes bore into hers then, dark and intense. “You’re free to go for now. Sam will show you around the penthouse. I’ve arranged for dinner to be brought to your suite early this evening. After that, you will dress in the outfit you’ll find set out for you and present yourself at the door to my lab promptly at eight p.m. for our next session.”
Chapter Seven
Kyra looked at her watch for the hundredth time. It still said 7:45. The hands were moving so slowly she swore it was broken. She checked the clock on the DVD player in the sitting room. Yep. 7:45.
She sighed. This day was dragging on worse than the day before Christmas when she was a little girl. She always spent the day with her grandmother, who came to stay with them during the holidays. Grandma would bake all day long, fancy cookies and cakes and the traditional pastry rolled up with a filling of ground nuts and honey, treats they’d only have once a year. Kyra was her helper, spreading frosting on the cookies, dusting powdered sugar on stacks of snowflake-shaped rosettes while they were still hot from the fryer.
Grandma always told Kyra that if she sneaked even one bite ahead of time, she wouldn’t be able to see the Christmas star when it appeared in the heavens that night. Of course, after being tempted all day she never could resist popping some treat into her mouth while Grandma’s back was turned, so she never saw the star. It wasn’t till years later that Kyra realized that sweet old lady had been manipulating her all along with her promise of Christmas magic, making sure she didn’t make too big a dent in the dessert tray.
Bared by the Billionaire Page 6