by Jo Davis
Frustrated, she sat on the bed. There wasn’t even a radio or a television to help the hours pass more quickly, and the time stretched ahead even longer than before. Now she understood what the guard meant — there wasn’t a damned thing to do here but rest. And whatever rich, merry criminals did when they held evening parties.
She flopped back on the bed and let her mind drift to Blaze. What was he doing right now? Raging, wanting to tear apart the countryside looking for her, no doubt, but he couldn’t do a thing until SHADO located this place.
Closing her eyes, she recalled the last time he’d made love to her. How hesitant she’d been and how he’d pushed past her barriers like always, cutting through them as though they were tissue paper. The man was one hundred percent raw alpha, knowing no sexual boundaries, with very little on his taboo list. It scared her some, but did she really want to change anything about him?
Unbidden, the image came to her. The woman on her knees, his cock sliding down her pretty throat, the other Dom fucking her from behind. The ecstasy on Blaze’s handsome face…
Unzipping her pants, she parted her legs and pushed a hand inside, brushing her throbbing clit. “Oh, God.” Her pussy was so wet and hot, needing. That one moment, etched into her brain, had changed her whole world despite her attempt to fight it. Wasn’t it wrong to be turned on by watching your man dominate another woman?
No, her body denied. Admit it — you want every decadent pleasure this man has to offer. You want him to take you places you never dreamed you’d venture.
Rubbing her nub with slow strokes, she envisioned the scene with herself included. On her knees servicing Blaze’s hot Dom friend while the other sub did the same to Emma’s man. Both of them deep-throating the hard, silken rods, faces buried in their groins. Being owned.
Emma’s desire spiked, and she arched her hips to plunge a finger into her channel — just as the lock scraped in the door. She barely had time to jerk her hand from her pants as it opened and a guard, a different one, stepped inside, closing it behind him and arching a dark brow.
Busted. Her face flamed and she scrambled for something to say, but her mind blanked as she studied the newcomer. This man was older, maybe a couple of years younger than Blaze, thirty or so. His rich chocolate brown hair matched his eyes and was pulled back into a ponytail. His shoulders were broad and muscular, his black T-shirt clinging to his chest and washboard abs. The shirt was tucked into his fatigues, which hugged his long thighs and cupped his sex invitingly. For a long moment, she stared at him, wishing this man wasn’t her enemy. What a waste.
“I’ve brought your clothes for tonight,” he said in a smooth whiskey voice, placing a shopping sack on the dresser. His sexy lips curved upward. “I was going to ask whether you needed anything, but it looks like you found it.”
She pushed up to a sitting position and yanked her shirt down to cover her open pants. Jesus, how embarrassing. “I’m good, thanks. Unless you’ve got a cell phone I could use to call my boss so he can rush right over and ram his boot up your collective asses.”
“Ouch, that doesn’t sound like fun. I’ll have to pass.” He gave her a heart-stopping smile that warmed his eyes. And made him appear to be something more than a disgusting antigovernment militant freak. In fact, he looked downright charming.
People had said that about Ted Bundy, too.
She waved a hand at the sack. “What kind of party is this? Your boss wasn’t very forthcoming about the particulars, and I don’t like surprises.”
Moving a few steps closer, he crossed his arms over his chest and stood with his boots braced apart. “Well, Miss Foster, your day seems to be full of them with more on the way. I’m not supposed to tell you anything, but if you take a peek in the sack I believe that will answer your question.”
“Why are you being so nice?”
“Why shouldn’t I be?”
“You work for Dietz, and he’s a traitorous, murdering bastard. Apples and trees, as they say.”
“If you want your curiosity satisfied, look in the sack. It’s not complicated.”
Suspicious, she rose and walked over to the dresser. With a glance at him to make sure he hadn’t moved, she pulled apart the handles of the sack and saw a bundle of black clothing. On top rested a pair of slip-on high-heeled shoes. Really high. Grimacing, she lifted them out and held them up. “I’ll never be able to walk in these without getting a nosebleed. Couldn’t he have sent a nice pair of flats?”
“He likes for the women who attend his parties to dress in a certain style. High heels are his thing.” The man shrugged.
“Great,” she muttered, setting the shoes on the dresser. Next, she fished out a pair of black pants. They were loose, palazzo-style, very elegant — something she’d be thrilled to have occasion to wear if circumstances were different. She laid them out on the bed and returned to the sack, lifted out the long-sleeved blouse… and gaped in astonishment. “Where’s the rest of this?”
“That’s all there is, sorry.”
“You can’t be serious!” She shook the offending garment at him, incensed. “This is completely see-through! I need a top to wear under this or my bra’s going to show.”
The sympathy in his eyes seemed real as he replied. “You won’t be wearing a bra. Or panties, either.”
She blinked at him as though he’d spoken another language. “What?”
“Dietz’s orders. All of his women—”
“I am not one of his women! Not in his wildest fantasies! That arrogant son of a bitch,” she fumed. “Make myself useful, my ass.”
“If it’s any consolation, I’m your escort for the evening,” he said softly, his liquid gaze sweeping her from head to toe in appreciation. “He’ll be so busy that he won’t bother you tonight except to keep an eye on your whereabouts.”
“This is supposed to comfort me? I’m going to be basically half naked in a roomful of strangers doing God-knows-what,” she said hoarsely.
“Yes. But I promise to keep everyone else away from you, make your evening — and the duration of your stay — as pleasurable as possible.”
Emma’s nipples tightened under his heated regard. There was no mistaking his meaning, or how the tone of honesty rang true in his voice. Suddenly, the double edge of his words “the duration of your stay” hit her square in the chest, and she knew what he was trying to say.
This man was an undercover agent. Not from SHADO, but from some other organization. Maybe a Fed. She wasn’t alone, and her relief was overwhelming.
“I see,” she said with a nod, but didn’t elaborate. He nodded back. They both knew Dietz could be monitoring her room, and blowing his cover would be fatal for them both. “May I have your first name, at least? Since you’re going to be my date and all.” “J.C.”
“J.C.”
“You can call me Emma.”
“Until tonight, gorgeous Emma.” He flashed her a smile and turned to go, locking the door behind him.
She lowered herself to the bed with a shaky sigh, mind whirling. Unsatisfied arousal thrummed through her body, made worse by the circumstances surrounding tonight’s command performance. The combination of danger and eroticism was a heady aphrodisiac. Not to mention the fact that her escort was a mouthwatering stick of manly candy, and one of the good guys to boot.
She wanted J.C. It was purely selfish, completely intoxicating. Would it be wrong to indulge? Would Blaze be angry, or would he understand?
Sex is natural, baby. There’s nothing shameful about two or more consenting adults taking pleasure in each other’s bodies.
Well, he might have to eat those words with a knife and fork, since he was the one who’d put all these adventurous new ideas in her head.
Grabbing a pillow, she squashed it over her face and tried to drown out her surroundings and the dilemma of this evening.
Just for a little while.
Blaze paced SHADO’s command center, snarling at any unfortunate SOB who looked at him sideways. “I thought you said the
fucking helicopter had tracking on it,” he shouted, jabbing a finger at Michael’s chest.
“It does, but they must be jamming the goddamned signal,” his boss replied, batting his hand away.
“So fix it.”
“It’s not that simple, and you know it! We’re working on solving the problem, Kelly, so just calm the hell down.”
“Work on it faster.”
A roomful of top agents, including Bastian, watched the two of them square off toe to toe, in each other’s faces. Blaze knew he was out of line, making a spectacle of himself, but he was so scared for Emma he couldn’t think straight. Nothing mattered but bringing her home safe and sound in his arms. Whatever he could do to speed up the process, he was all over it.
“We’re working as fast as we can to unscramble the signal,” Michael said evenly, clasping his shoulder. “Until then, there’s nothing you can do. Go home, Blaze. Get some rest. You’re going to need it when we locate them.”
“I need to be here—”
“Go. Home.”
He took a deep breath. Let it out. His boss’s tone brooked no further argument. He rarely used it on Blaze, which meant he’d become more of a hindrance than a help. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Promise you’ll call me if you find them before I come back in the morning.”
“You have my word.”
That wasn’t much reassurance, but it would have to do. He strode out, ignoring the stares boring into his back. Fuck them if they couldn’t understand how he felt, having his woman taken by public enemy number one.
Fuck them all.
Emma stared at herself in the full-length bathroom mirror, swallowing hard. She didn’t recognize the woman staring back, the one with dark, taut nipples showing through the sheer fabric of the black blouse. The palazzo pants hugged her waist and flowed down her long legs to her spiky shoes, and felt positively wicked without underwear between her pussy and the fabric.
Never in her life had she dared to dress like a high-dollar whore. She could never have imagined what set of circumstances could possibly drive her to it.
“Good God, what’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing that I can see.”
She jumped and whirled, hand on her heart, to find J.C. eyeing her like a starving man at his last supper. “Can’t you knock?”
“And miss watching you check out your lovely naked breasts? I’m no fool.”
She was painfully aware of the silky slide of the material on her erect nipples, and the knowledge that very soon, she’d be exposed to strangers. Her clit tingled and flushed with warmth, which filled her with confusion. How could she feel this way here, with this man she didn’t know?
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said, gently taking her chin and forcing her to meet his gaze. “You are stunning and have nothing to be ashamed about. We’ll do what we must, what is expected, and you’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of that.”
His fingers brushed down her vulnerable throat, then on to skim one pert nipple ever so lightly. The simple touch sent little shocks dancing to her nerve endings, and she sucked in a breath. Let it out slowly. “Have you done this before, escorted the… guests?”
“A couple of times. My number was up for tonight, lucky me.”
No, lucky me. In more ways than one, because if she’d drawn anyone else, her outlook might not be so good. “You look great in leather. Does he always let you out of uniform for his parties?” God, those pants looked like they’d been spray-painted on. And all that shiny brown hair loose around the shoulders of his white silk shirt? The man was a hunk of fry-your-panties delight — if she’d been wearing any.
“Only if we’re lucky enough to work inside. He likes for us to fit in so we don’t alarm his friends.”
“I can see that. Are you armed?”
He nodded. “Ankle holster. I’m never without a weapon.”
“I’ll bet,” she said, eyes dropping to his crotch and the impressive bulge there.
He laughed. “Come on. Let’s put in our appearance and play his game. Hopefully he’ll be pleased enough to allow you to return to your room.”
“That’s not much of an incentive, since I’m already sick of being cooped up in here.”
“It’s better than being out there, in his sight and on his mind.”
She couldn’t refute that. Composing herself, she went along quietly, determined not to outwardly react to whatever greeted them. She must be alert, take note of how to navigate the house. Night had fallen outside, and the corridors were lit with a soft glow, as were the stairs. In the foyer, J.C. guided her down another short hallway to a set of wide double doors, where several men and women entered ahead of them.
A burly man dressed similarly to her escort, who she supposed was another guard, nodded at him and waved them inside. They stepped in, and it was all she could do to maintain her calm facade.
The big living room was dimly lit. Soft, sexy music played in the background, barely heard above throaty laughter and murmured conversation. The men were dressed in leathers or nice pants and dress shirts, and every last one of the women was dressed much the same as Emma. Clearly, the females were to be put on display, their stunning beauty rivaling the opulent surroundings. They were every shape and size — blondes, brunettes, redheads. Tall and slim, short and round, athletic. Feminine, soft butch, and every flavor in between.
Some of their blouses were made of sheer material and were see-through like her own. Some tops were bustiers, so tight their breasts were practically spilling over the cups, nipples showing. A few wore short skirts, and Emma would bet her next month’s salary that not a one of them wore so much as a thong.
“Overwhelmed?”
She looked at J.C. and gave a slight nod. “Some. What’s expected of me now?”
“Just stick with me and follow my lead,” he said, keeping his voice low, for her ears only. “You’ll be all right.”
“That’s what General Custer said to his buddies,” she muttered. His chuckle wrapped around her, making her feel a bit better. For the moment.
He led her to the bar on the far side of the room, getting a beer for himself and a glass of red wine for her. Then she joined him in a cozy corner where three sofas formed a conversation area, a glass coffee table in the center. Two couples on the sofa across from them were engaged in serious flirtation, innuendo heavy.
Despite the sexual tension in the air, Emma had just started to relax when she spotted Dietz in the opposite corner, schmoozing three women who weren’t the least bit averse to showing the man a good time. One had an arm draped over his shoulder, her tongue in his ear. On his other side, another slid her hand up the inside of his thigh to his crotch, rubbing his zipper. A third sat on the floor between his knees, hanging on his every word.
“Unbelievable. Who is this guy, the Hugh Hefner of the terrorist world? And how did he throw together this party so fast, anyway?”
“Something like that. As for the party, it was already planned to celebrate his escape. Ignore him.”
“He has my fate in his hands, so that’s kind of impossible.”
“Not really. Look at me.” He set down his beer.
Sliding one arm around her, he cupped her jaw and slanted his mouth over hers. Took her lips in a hot kiss, tongue slipping between her lips. He tasted so good and smelled even better. Felt good, too, his hard body pressed into her side.
His hand trailed to the first button on her blouse, flicking it open with expertise.
“Wait. What are you doing?” Her pulse fluttered as his lashes lowered and he sent her a smoldering look. Nervous, she took a sip of her wine and placed it beside his beer.
“In case you hadn’t noticed, they’re way ahead of us.”
A glance around confirmed his words. All over the room, creamy white breasts and erect cocks were being bared as people came together in twos or threes. Skin met skin, and hands roamed and stroked, eliciting moans of pleasure.
“Can’t we just observe?” The decaden
t sight was making her a bit dizzy, it was so surreal.
“The last thing we want to do is stand out because we’re not participating,” he said reasonably. “Don’t be fooled into thinking he’s not watching you. If he sees you’re coming around to his side, he’ll be satisfied for now.”
“This must be easy for you by now.”
“Survival is never easy.” Moving close, he nuzzled her neck. “Relax and let me take care of you.”
His lips were warm and pleasant, and his seductive skills were apparent. She might have succumbed to the sensations were it not for feeling so conspicuous among these people. As though she were a lamb in a room full of lions. This was much different than the scene at Blaze’s club — she was an unwilling captive here, not a loyal sub.
“I can’t do this,” she hissed, pushing at his chest. “Not here. I don’t care what he does to me.”
“Stay calm,” he said in a low voice, his body as unmovable as a boulder. “Unless you want to get us both killed before the night is over.”
“That might be preferable to giving in to his sick games.”
J.C. gave her an inscrutable look and finally relented. “All right, let me see what I can do. Wait here.”
She made herself as unnoticeable as possible beside a large ficus tree while her protector crossed the room to speak to Dietz. The boss threw J.C. a glare at being interrupted, his eyes narrowing as the other man spoke. Dietz’s gaze found Emma’s across the distance, and she suppressed a shiver even when he nodded to approve whatever J.C. had suggested.
The implication was clear — her refusal to completely abide by Dietz’s rules had endangered both her and J.C.
Her companion strode back to her and took her hand, tugging her toward a nearby doorway. He led her through it and down a short corridor, then through another door to a small room that looked like some sort of library. J.C. switched on a table lamp, which bathed the space in dim light. The sounds of the party could still be heard, but barely. The distance went a long way toward soothing her nerves, as did his palms rubbing her shoulders.