Spy

by Julia Sykes

  Call Alik. He told you to call him if you need him.

  No.

  I wouldn’t call Alik. Because this time, my feelings weren’t irrational. Ian had hardly spoken to me in two days, much less touched me. It was driving me crazy, but no more so than it would bother any normal woman who had been swept off her feet by a gorgeous, damaged man; a man who set her body on fire and then dropped her cold.

  Besides, I didn’t need Alik. The peace I’d found under Ian’s firm hands was even better than the haven my therapist had built in my mind. If I could get Ian to connect with me again, I knew it would help me stabilize. Even the pain of another spanking would be welcome. I’d been tempted to “forget” to call him Master several times, but I’d decided against it. Tricking him into dominating me would be a violation of his trust, and I had only barely attained that.

  The sound of the key scraping into the lock jerked me out of my thoughts.

  Ian.

  I set his laptop aside and quickly got up to greet him. By the time the door swung open, I was in position. Just as he’d instructed me, I knelt with my thighs spread wide, my hands on my knees and my eyes downcast.

  His fingers touched the top of my head in a perfunctory show of approval. The lack of affection made my heart squeeze. I was trying to be strong for him, to hide the hurt he was causing me. I didn’t want to add to the pain he carried around all the time.

  But my unruly emotions chose that moment to surge, pushing me over the edge. I knew what was happening, but I couldn’t stop the tears from spilling down my face.

  “Lissa?” It was the first time in days that he’d called me by my name. I hadn’t realized how much I missed it. A sob seized my chest.

  The anger that had been simmering inside me bubbled up. I was furious with myself for losing control. And that frustration made the tears come faster.

  I should have called Alik.

  “Hey,” Ian said gently. He knelt down before me and wrapped his arms around me. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  I shoved against his chest, my fury swinging in his direction. “Why?” I demanded. “You won’t talk to me. Why should I open up to you? Why am I the only one who has to be vulnerable?”

  He pulled away, and I could see his walls coming up, his expression closing.

  “Don’t do that!” I shouted. The violence I usually kept carefully contained burst forth, and my hand shot out. He grabbed my wrist just before my palm could crack across his cruelly handsome face.

  “Lissa. I need you to calm down.”

  I jerked against his hold, the nails of my free hand clawing at the back of his fingers, trying to force them to unfurl.

  His lips set into a hard line, and he caught up my other wrist. I shrieked out my anger as he pulled both arms behind me, applying pressure at the small of my back to push my body up against his. With his thigh wedged between mine, I couldn’t shift away from him enough to twist out of his grip.

  The hand that wasn’t securing my arms pressed against the back my head until my cheek rested on his hard chest.

  “Calm down.” It was a firm order.

  I struggled. “I don’t want to calm down!”

  His fingers ran through my hair, lightly massaging my scalp. “Yes, you do. Take a deep breath.”

  Despite the unreasonable urge to defy him, I sucked in a ragged breath.

  “Again.”

  I drew in another, held it, then blew it out slowly. It was a familiar ritual, and I fell into it easily.

  “That’s good.”

  All my rage drained away, leaving me feeling wrung-out and achingly exposed. My tears returned, hot with shame. I’d tried to hit him. How could I do that?

  “You’re okay,” he assured me softly. “I’ve got you.”

  I turned my face into his chest and sobbed against him, grateful that his hold on me didn’t give me the option of pulling away and retreating into myself. He held me for a long time, simply waiting for my emotions to run their course.

  After a while, my sobs tapered off, and my tears dried up.

  “I’m sorry.” My voice was raw from crying.

  He finally released my wrists and pulled back from me slightly so he could look into my eyes. His hands shifted to my waist, grounding me with his comforting touch.

  “It’s okay. I understand.”

  I shook my head. “I appreciate you saying that, but you can’t possibly understand. You don’t know what it feels like to watch yourself lose control and be powerless to stop it. I know how I acted just now makes no sense. I hate it, but I can’t help it.” My tone took on a pleading edge, willing him to forgive me for my actions.

  He traced the line of my jaw, wiped my tears away with a brush of his thumb across my cheek.

  “I know,” he assured me. “It’s not exactly the same, but my mother struggled with depression. She had a good life and a loving family, but her dark moods would take hold, and nothing we did could make a difference. So I do know what it’s like to be with someone who suffers like you do. After spending time with you, I’m amazed you’re able to remain as stable as you do. You work very hard to control yourself.” A small frown tugged at his lips. “I’m not surprised you had an episode after everything I’ve put you through.”

  I mulled that over. I wanted to comfort him, to reassure him that he hadn’t done anything wrong. But the truth was undeniable: I’d gotten upset because he was hurting me by keeping distance between us.

  “Thank you for sharing that with me,” I finally said, focusing on the fact that he’d opened up to me about his mother. It was more personal than anything he’d shared with me so far.

  He studied my face, trying to puzzle me out again. “I don’t understand how you can be so sweet to me. Even though I’ve been very unfair to you, you’ve remained focused on helping me. It’s supposed to be the other way around; a Dom is supposed to take care of his sub.”

  I reached out and cupped his cheek, running my fingers across his rough stubble. “Doesn’t it go the other way? A sub is supposed to serve her Master.”

  “It should go both ways. This is my fault. I haven’t been consistent with you. Not in the ways that matter.” His mouth hardened to a grim line. “I’m sorry I can’t give you what you deserve. I can’t be your Master. Not really.”

  “Why not?” I pressed softly. “Why can’t you trust me?”

  He looked away. “I do trust you, but I won’t lead you on. I’m leaving when this mission is over, and I don’t plan to come back.”

  “That’s bullshit,” I called him out, some of my anger resurfacing. “If you trusted me, you would talk to me. Really talk to me. I understand…” I swallowed against the sudden lump in my throat. “I understand that you’ll have to leave eventually. But I’m making myself completely vulnerable here. Please, just be with me while we have this time together. I want that more than anything. I lost control today because I haven’t been taking my meds, and I haven’t talked to my therapist. I didn’t want to, because being with you is better. You make me better, more stable.”

  He stared at me for a long moment before his expression hardened with determination. “You need this lifestyle. I can see that. You need the release you find in submission. And you can’t find that with anyone else while you’re forced to be with me. I’ll give you what you need while we’re together. I’ll take care of you.”

  I threw my arms around him, overwhelmed with gratitude and visceral relief. “Thank you.”

  His arms closed around me as well. “You really should take your meds, though,” he chided. “They were prescribed for a reason.”

  “Okay.” I would have agreed to anything in that moment. Ian was going to be my Master, truly be my Master. I would do whatever he asked of me.

  “I have something for you that I think might help, too.” He extricated himself from my tight hold. The kindness in his eyes helped ease the disappointment I felt at the loss of his touch. “Wait here.”

  Although I wanted to foll
ow him, to stay close to him, I obeyed. I would prove to him that I could be good for him. He wouldn’t regret his choice to act as my Dom.

  I placed the backs of my hands on my knees and straightened my shoulders, presenting myself to him properly. I couldn’t bring myself to drop my eyes, though. I couldn’t stop drinking in the sight of him; his powerful muscles, the graceful way he moved.

  My Master. Mine.

  He opened the tiny closet and rummaged around for something in his duffel bag. I watched him, wondering what he might have for me.

  When he withdrew the item, I still didn’t understand. He held a thin strip of black leather with a silver ring set into the center, and his gaze was almost apologetic.

  “I got this for you to wear if I have to take you to meet Salvation. It’ll help sell our relationship. I wanted you to start wearing it so you can get used to it.”

  “What is it?”

  “Your collar.”

  “My collar?” I didn’t know how I felt about that. It was one thing for him to call me pet; wearing a collar was another matter entirely.

  “It’s not meant to be demeaning,” he assured me. “It’s symbolic. It means I own you.”

  I thrilled at the possessive words, but worry still teased at the back of my mind. That didn’t sound very romantic.

  “It’s more than that,” he continued, sensing my discomfort. “It means I’m taking responsibility for your wellbeing. I’d meant it to be for show, but now you can wear it and know that I’ll take care of you. If you start to feel unstable again, it’ll remind you that I’m here for you.”

  Fresh tears stung the corners of my eyes. He really did understand. My mood swings hadn’t scared him off. If I had another episode, he would hold me through it.

  “Thank you, Master.”

  He gave me a soft smile. “Lift up your hair for me.”

  I did ask he asked, baring my neck for him. He loomed above me, and I suddenly felt completely exposed, even though I was fully clothed. My eyes fixed on the strip of leather. It dipped into an elegant point in the center, creating a curved V shape where the silver ring was attached. An image of him hooking his finger through it and leading me where he wanted me to go flashed through my mind, and my pulse quickened. The collar would give him more control over me than ever, and I sensed it wouldn’t simply be control of my body. His description of its significance washed over me; his gift of the collar was a sign of his acceptance, not a hollow gesture to make our M/s relationship more believable. This was about so much more than the mission.

  The supple leather encircled my neck, tightening slightly as he buckled it closed at my nape. His fingers lingered there, tracing the line of the collar to where it dipped at the front of my throat. My skin came alive under his touch. Somehow, the gentle brush of his calloused fingertips was the most intimate contact we’d ever shared.

  I looked up into his deep blue eyes to find them fixated on the collar. Something dark and hungry stirred in their depths, something possessive.

  His fierce expression gave me hope that maybe this didn’t have to end. We weren’t pretending anymore. This was real.

  Chapter 8

  Ian

  The dark leather against her tanned skin was entrancing. I couldn’t stop staring at it, and when I was away from her the image haunted my thoughts. After collaring her the day before, I’d had to take a very cold shower. When I put it on her again this morning, I’d had no choice but to see to my needs. I was desperate to fuck her, now more than ever.

  I hated coming in my hand when all I wanted was to thrust myself inside her and posses her completely. When I’d held her in my arms, soothing her as her emotions ran wild, I’d felt stronger than I had in years. She needed me, and I would see to those needs.

  I almost felt like a Master again.

  Except for the ugly reminder that she would never truly be mine. Not permanently.

  I shoved that thought aside and turned off the shower. Brooding wouldn’t do either of us any favors. I’d promised to trust her, and I couldn’t allow my guilt to put up walls between us again. She’d earned better than that.

  A part of me registered that I should be alarmed at how close I was getting. Not just because of the hurt I would cause her when I inevitably left, but also because I feared it would hurt me, too. And I didn’t think my soul could stand any more pain than the anguish that had been my constant companion for years.

  When I was with Lissa, that pain melted away. It made me want to bury myself in her and never leave.

  Dangerous. I wouldn’t risk her any more than I already had, and being close to me was as good as a death sentence. I’d learned that the hard way. Marie had learned that the hard way.

  I had to end my op before I was forced to take Lissa to Salvation. I had to get away from her, for her own safety.

  Unfortunately, I hadn’t made any further progress. We hadn’t been able to identify the exact nature of the weapons the brotherhood possessed. All I knew was they were chemical, but nothing more. Oded had embedded an x-ray camera in my phone that would allow us to see inside the warhead and better understand its contents, but I hadn’t been able to make an excuse to get back into the shed and photograph the weapon without the others noticing.

  Every day that passed without that intel was another day closer to disaster. I was tempted to simply seize the weapon and arrest the anarchists, but we still hadn’t learned more about their Russian contacts. We had to know if it was a splinter group or the government backing the attack. If it was the latter, this could be an act of war.

  “Master?” Lissa called out from the bedroom. Even though I’d just come, the sound of the honorific in her breathy voice made my cock harden.

  “Yeah?” I managed to keep my tone even as I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist.

  “Your phone’s ringing.”

  Shit. Without bothering to dry off, I hurried out of the bathroom to snatch up my cell before it went to voicemail. It was my cover phone, so I knew what name to answer with.

  “This is Isaac,” I greeted.

  “Hello, brother,” Terry’s suave drawl oozed through the receiver. “How are you?”

  “Good. How are you?” I asked, as brightly as I could manage. I wanted to take the call outside, but I wasn’t dressed. I would have to keep things vague so Lissa wouldn’t become any more involved than she already was.

  I glanced over at her to find her staring at my bare chest, her eyes slowly wandering down to where the towel was slung low on my hips. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips.

  “Isaac?”

  I jerked my attention away from her. “I’m sorry, what? You cut out for a second there.”

  “I want you to bring your slave to our meeting tomorrow,” he said, more loudly.

  A block of ice solidified in my gut. “I don’t know if she’s ready.”

  “I want to see more of how she behaves around you,” he reasoned smoothly. “We’ve been talking about it for days now. If I’m going to have one of my own, I need to understand how it works. As you keep telling me,” he added drily.

  Fuck fuck fuck!

  I jerked a hand through my hair, my mind racing to come up with some plausible excuse that wouldn’t alienate me from the group.

  “Brother?” he prompted when I didn’t answer fast enough.

  “Okay.” The bitter tang of betrayal coated my tongue. “I’ll bring her tomorrow.”

  “Excellent.” I could practically hear his oily smile.

  I ended the call before I could say something that would blow my whole op.

  “What’s wrong?” Lissa asked, touching her fingers tentatively against my shoulder. I flinched.

  Gritting my teeth, I turned to face her. “I have to take you to a meeting,” I ground out. “I’m sorry.”

  She paled. “Oh.”

  I cupped her cheeks in both hands. “You don’t have to do this. You can still go into witness protection.”

 
; She swallowed. “I’m safer with you, aren’t I?”

  “I don’t know.” For the first time, I wasn’t sure of that. If she left me now, the Russians might learn that we’d lied about our relationship. They might go after her to get answers about what I was really doing with Salvation. If I kept her close, I could personally watch over her, and we could maintain our cover.

  But I hated the idea of those fuckers ever laying eyes on her again.

  She lightly traced the line of my clenched jaw. “I think I am. I trust you.”

  You shouldn’t. I kept my doubts to myself. Adding to her fear wouldn’t do us any good. She’d made her choice.

  We had little more than a day before we had to face Salvation.

  “We’ll need to train today,” I informed her, trying to keep my voice even. I couldn’t allow her to sense my fear for her. She needed me to be strong, in control; she needed me to be her Master. Her life depended on it.

  * * * * *

  It took me less than twenty-four hours to formulate my plan. I was a bastard for even thinking of it, but I didn’t see any other way. I had to get Lissa out of this as soon as possible, and the only way to do that was to end the mission.

  I would have to use her to get the intel I needed.

  “Come here, pet.”

  Lissa looked up at me from where she lounged on the bed. She set aside the book she’d been reading on her smart phone and came to me immediately, without question. I’d trained her well.

  When she reached me where I sat at the desk, I gripped her waist and guided her to sit across my lap. Now that I’d collared her, I couldn’t seem to help touching her whenever she was near. It seemed to calm her as well.

  I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her close.

  “We need to talk about what will happen at the meeting.”

  She tensed at the mention of Salvation. I ran a comforting hand down her spine, and she relaxed against me again.

  “Okay. What do you need me to do?”

  She was so brave. Again, I marveled at her inner strength and became all the more enamored with her.