The Connaghers Series Boxed Set

by Joely Sue Burkhart

  Shame burned through him and he quivered. A strangled sound of desperation rose in his throat. He wanted to throw himself off her and beat the shit out of something. Quick. Before he sobbed like a baby.

  She nuzzled his ear and sucked his earlobe between her teeth. At least a gentle nip this time, not those predator bites. “I feel like I should be apologizing.”

  Hadn’t he said the same thing earlier? She laughed softly and he finally got his brain to communicate with his muscles enough to lift his head. He didn’t dare try to talk, for fear he’d break down into a babbling idiot.

  “I forgot how much I love to bite. I’ve gotten away from it over the years using other toys, but there’s no easier way for me to give pain than teeth and nails.” Her left hand roamed up and down his back, sliding on sweat-slicked skin that probably should have grossed her out, but she looked up at him with a languorous heat in her eyes that he hadn’t been able to inspire in a woman for quite some time. Sated, for the time being—but that heat promised she’d be interested in round two again as soon as he could manage it.

  If I can manage it.

  “You will.” Her lips quirked in a knowing smirk, though he hadn’t said the words aloud. “I have no doubts. Not after that.”

  But… but…

  Maybe he’d actually burst a vein in his head when he’d climaxed so hard, because he couldn’t seem to form a coherent sentence. Even in his own head.

  She leaned up and rubbed her lips against his, drawing his attention back to her. “You did exactly as I wanted. You obeyed to the letter. You were able to climax. So what’s the problem?”

  Was there a problem? He blinked several times, hoping that if he focused his eyes better that his brain would follow suit.

  Mal lowered her lashes and stuck out her lip in a playful pout that seemed shockingly out of place on a feared Mistress—but also so very right. “Didn’t you come hard enough, sugar? Maybe I need to do some more convincing.”

  His head was jerking up and down in a nod before his brain caught up.

  Laughing, she pushed on his chest and rolled him off to the side. He helped as much as he could but his body still seemed to be in shock. He breathed hard, as if he’d been running for miles, and his muscles quivered, exhausted, like he’d done every weight-lifting exercise he knew in a matter of minutes. Maybe I did.

  She propped an elbow on his chest and stared down at him, still grinning. That smile was worth a thousand bites and all these confusing, turbulent emotions. He’d put that smile on her face. He’d made her come. She was pleased—not disappointed—in his performance. Even though it seemed like a very strange way to get him there.

  Her fingers twirled a circle on his shoulder. “Ask me.”

  It took him a moment to realize she was tracing one of the bite marks. “It…” He cleared his throat and tried again. “It was good for you?”

  “No.” Something in him shriveled up and died when she paused. Until she looked up at him and he saw the darkness in her eyes. A need to hurt and conquer and bring him to his knees. “It was great. Was it good for you?”

  He didn’t answer immediately. It was good, yeah. He’d managed to come for the first time in months. Years. But it still didn’t seem… right. It didn’t seem too smart to admit it to her, but he did anyway. “Yes… and no.”

  She nodded, not offended in the slightest. “Some things I try will work, and others won’t. But figuring out what makes you tick is what makes this so fun.”

  Maybe for you. It took all his will not to avert his gaze, afraid she’d see the doubts rumbling around in his head.

  She huffed, not angry or exasperated, exactly. More amused in a wry slightly disgruntled way. “You don’t really want me to know what makes you tick. But you’re not thinking about that when your dick is hard.”

  “It’s not you. Not at all. Evidently I don’t even know what makes me tick. Not any more.”

  “Experiences do change us. You’re going to want different things from different people. Other than the obvious, what do you want from me?”

  Now it was his turn to let out a disgusted grunt. “Evidently I want you to bite the shit out of me.”

  She pressed her fingers a little harder against her bite. Hard enough he felt the tenderness in the muscle beneath his skin. He’d have a few bitchin’ bruises to boast of tomorrow. If he dared show anyone. “If you’d rather I drag out a flogger—”

  “Nope, biting’s cool,” he said quickly, making her snort again. “Totally hot, actually. Bite a hunk out of me anytime.”

  She leaned down and sucked his bottom lip into her mouth. Holding his gaze, she pressed her teeth into that tender flesh. Not too hard—but enough his eyes widened and his heartbeat quickened. And yeah, his dick stirred again. Releasing him, she settled down against his chest as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Certainly not interested in his growing erection. “I’m going to get you to try some of my toys eventually, sugar.”

  He fully expected his erection to flee in terror. He’d never been interested in any kind of kink before. Not even in a wet dream. But with the Mistress of Dallas in his arms…

  She leaned up and deliberately stared down at his fully erect cock. Then with a smug smile, she reached over to flip the lamp off, dropped her head back to his shoulder, and snuggled against him. “That’s what I thought. Go to sleep, sugar. We’re done for the night.”

  Her breathing evened out, but he couldn’t sleep. He never did, at least not for long. It was enough to hold her against him and marvel at what she’d already accomplished. And hope, maybe, just maybe, she could do it again.

  7

  Walking into the precinct the next day, Colby could only think of John Travolta strutting down the street to Staying Alive. Elias saw him coming and groaned so loudly that everyone in the room looked up. So Colby put a little more swagger into his step.

  “Somebody got laid last night,” Elias said in a morose tone despite his own liberal amounts of laying that he was undoubtedly getting now that he was engaged to Vicki.

  Rather than sitting down at his desk that faced his partner’s, Colby plopped down on the corner of Elias’s desk and snagged half of a sandwich.

  “Hey, I was eating that!”

  He grinned and took another bite. “Vicki’s been feeding you really well.”

  “Yeah, I know. That was leftover from yesterday and was supposed to be my breakfast.”

  Colby winced and made a mental note to be sure and pick up the tab while they were out. Elias hadn’t given him shit about his eating habits, other than a casual, damn, son, why are you dieting so hard? Which he hadn’t been dieting. He just couldn’t eat much. Until Mal set him straight last night.

  “So I see you survived unscathed.”

  Grateful Elias changed the subject, even to something that could get personal real quick, Colby shoved the rest of the sandwich in his mouth and moved over to his chair to sort through the waiting stacks of paperwork. “More or less.”

  He didn’t look up at his partner, but he could almost see Elias’s eyebrows rising with curiosity and speculation. “I figured you’d come in limping not strutting like a cocky rooster.”

  “She’s a…” Colby glanced over to the nearest person and while Brown wasn’t looking at him, the guy was listening very hard. Elias knew what he would have said anyway. Mistress. I’m dating a Mistress. Domme. Dominatrix. What the fuck are you doing? “Not a prize fighter.”

  “You look good considering you went toe-to-toe for twelve rounds.”

  He hadn’t felt this good in… He couldn’t even remember. He’d slept. Actually fucking slept. For almost five hours.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this rested. He was ravenous… and he’d been able to eat the sandwich. Even leftover chicken salad with soggy bread tasted like ambrosia.

  His analytical side remained skeptical. Surely one night with a Mistress couldn’t have changed so much. Mal shouldn’t have had such an impact o
n him. Yet he felt like he’d crashed their police cruiser so hard that it’d flipped half a dozen times. In fact, he could easily imagine hanging upside, trapped in the seatbelt, with the car upside down in the ditch.

  And he felt great anyway. Relaxed. Hungry and rested and ready to go again. Not miserable, injured, or worried about being trapped.

  Elias stood and waved a file at him. “Let’s go. We should’ve left thirty minutes ago.”

  Nodding, Colby opened the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out one of his spare ties. He’d barely had time to get home and shower this morning. At least he’d still had a clean shirt in the closet. He grabbed the suit jacket draped over the back of his chair and followed his partner outside.

  It wasn’t even April yet and it was fucking hot. He wouldn’t last more than hour before he had to strip the jacket off. Brass really preferred all the detectives to look the part, but most days it was too damned hot in Dallas to wear a suit and a tie all fucking day. He followed Elias into the convenience store next door instead of waiting outside like usual. A super large coffee with cream and sugar, and a giant bear claw would tie him over a bit. Cop jokes about the donut shop aside, he’d really missed the shot of caffeine and sugar that helped with those long hours and little sleep. He waited at the register for Elias to come up with his hot dog loaded with onions and relish and an energy drink. The lady ringing them up didn’t bat an eye at a hot dog for breakfast. She’d been working here next door to the precinct longer than Colby had been in Dallas and already seen it all. Colby paid for everything and they headed down the side road to the parking lot in the rear.

  Elias waited until both car doors were shut and they’d both snapped their seat belts before beginning the interrogation. “What the hell did she do to you?”

  Colby paused with half the donut already shoved in his mouth. “What?”

  Eyes narrowed, Elias watched him eat the rest of the bear claw in a matter of bites. “You heard me.”

  “Nothing, why?”

  “Don’t give me that shit. I haven’t seen you eat in months, and you just demolished a donut the size of a dinner platter in three bites.”

  Colby shrugged, but Elias wasn’t buying it. Unfortunately, his partner had the instincts of a pit bull crossed with a piranha. He smelled blood in the water, and wasn’t letting go.

  “So Mal waved a magic wand and all your issues suddenly disappeared?”

  Colby narrowed a hard gaze on him. “What the hell do you mean by issues?”

  Elias’s eyes widened for a split second and then he laughed like Colby had just told him the dirtiest joke he’d ever heard. He started up the car and drove off the rear lot, merging into light traffic. “Yeah, right. You don’t have issues. My bad.”

  “No, really. I…” Colby started to say, “I’ve been hiding them—pretty damned well, if I do say so myself.” Hadn’t he?

  Elias cast a quick side glance at him. “After riding with me over a year, do you honestly think I’m that blind? You don’t eat. You don’t sleep. You exercise like a mad person. Some of the guys have even muttered about steroids for you to bulk up so much. Doesn’t help that you’re… twitchy. Like you’re on something. And your temper isn’t the best. That’s why you get to play bad cop all the time.”

  Fuck. He’d never done drugs in his life. Never suspected that the people he worked with day in and day out had the slightest suspicion. “Who started that kind of rumor? Rodgers? I’ll fucking kill that bastard.”

  “Oh, yeah, because talk like that helps so much. Look, don’t worry about it. I’ve had your back and always will, but you’ve got to be careful. One bad report from an eye witness, or a roughed up suspect, and both our asses will be on the line. The LT has already told me to keep you on a tight leash.”

  And here he’d thought he’d been doing so great. No one had as many collars as him and Elias. Not even close. Until recently, when his partner had hooked back up with his woman, they’d both worked nonstop. He’d been going places. Elias was going to sit for his lieutenant test soon, and Colby would move up to senior detective in a couple of years. Moving on up in the world, or so he’d thought. Maybe the senseless grind of fighting to keep drugs off the streets would finally lighten up a bit. Or better yet, he’d move on to some new position entirely.

  Only to realize his entire reputation was tarnished by gossip and his very character in doubt.

  “I get it,” Elias said in a low, grim voice. “I’ve seen soldiers with it way worse than you. You’ve been holding it together fine, but I see you all the time. I know how tight a wire you’re walking. Until today. And I want to know what happened last night to snap that wire, so I can be on the look out for any new issues that might crop up.”

  Colby turned his head and stared out the side window to be sure and not meet his partner’s gaze. “I had some… bedroom issues. For a couple of years now.”

  “Ah.” Thank God Elias didn’t ask for all the gruesome details. “And Mal got around those issues?”

  “Piece of cake.”

  “What’d she have to do to eat that cake?”

  Colby choked back a sudden wave of desperate laughter. It was actually a piece of pie, and I ate the whole fucking thing. Instead of trying to explain anything, he simply pulled up his sleeve enough to bare one of the bite marks on his forearm. It’d been the first bite, and arguably the least painful. Yet he had a brilliant bruise of green and purple around still-red marks in his flesh.

  “Fucking hell. Yeah, that’d do it. Vic knows a thing or two about that. She bites like a fucking crocodile.”

  “TMI, dude. I so do not want to know about your habits in the bedroom. Baring my soul is bad enough.”

  Elias drove for a few moments before continuing. “So you’re feeling better now, right? I mean, if she got around the other issue, you won’t be wound so tightly.”

  Colby shrugged, still staring out the window. “Don’t know how long it’ll last though.”

  Elias grunted softly. “So you’ll see her again, then.”

  “Fuck, yeah.” Colby was able to say it without hesitation. Even if his bedroom issues started to come back, he still wanted to see her. He still hoped she’d come up with a new way of helping him battle those demons.

  “She’s that good? Not that I’m interested in details,” Elias said hurriedly with a threatening scowl as he pulled off to park in an nondescript alley. “But I’ve seen enough to know she’s…” He hesitated, as if he didn’t want to insult the woman if Colby liked her. “Dangerous.”

  Colby pushed open the door, swung out, and leaned against the top of the car, waiting for Elias to get out and face him. Then he flashed a huge grin at his partner. “Damn straight she’s dangerous. That’s what makes her so appealing. She’s also sexy as hell.”

  “TMI, TMI,” Elias rolled his eyes. “Just be careful, and keep her on the down low as long as you can. Some asshole still thinks it’s funny to leave spare handcuffs on my desk after that commercial.”

  Colby didn’t say anything, because that asshole was him. If Elias found out…

  He’ll probably start leaving whips and chains for me in our car.

  That made him remember the hank of rope that Mal had laid out last night. His stomach quivered, uneasy, unsettled, but intrigued. He couldn’t lie. Not with a hardening dick.

  Maybe I’ll ask her about that sometime.

  8

  The first brainstorming sessions leading up to a new season were Mal’s favorite meetings all year. Landing a job at VCONN ten years ago had been a dream come true, and her job had only gotten better over the years. She really felt like they were making a difference, at least in Dallas. The local BDSM club, Silken, had doubled its membership since America’s Next Top sub had aired, and she’d even been recognized as the Mistress of Dallas while in Houston with Mama. Mal had just about fallen out of her chair when Mama had actually been pretty chuffed at her daughter’s recognition. Even as a Domme on a very sexy show.

 
; Their ratings were great. They’d blown KDSX out of the water. Ad prices were through the roof. All of which made their CEO and her partner, Victor Connagher, beam with pride, even while he moved that bar another notch higher for their upcoming fall season.

  “So.” He looked around the table, meeting each person’s gaze for a moment before moving on. Shiloh Holmes, his fiancée and the original creator of America’s Next Top sub, gave him one of the secretive, dirty smiles that subs were so very good at, promising all sorts of sweaty fun later. Then Georgia, the beautiful host who’d been all too eager to sign a nice contract ensuring her services for the next two seasons. Patrick wasn’t an employee of VCONN, but he’d played one of the dominant contestants, along with Mal and Victor. Ryan and Kimberly, the owners of Silken, were crucial in offering up their club’s play rooms and clientele for potential candidates. “Thank you for coming today to begin brainstorming ideas for continuing Top sub this fall.”

  “I’m surprised you called me, actually.” Despite the business suit, Patrick sat in the chair like a negligent, bored lord of the manor. “I’m sure I was the least favorite dominant in the last show, though I’m certainly interested in continuing, or at least providing input.”

  Shiloh glanced at her fiancé out of the corner of her eyes. “He didn’t tell you?”

  Patrick’s eyes narrowed on the man at the head of the table. They were friendly acquaintances, but not above a dominant pissing match if they weren’t careful. “Tell me what?”

  “I admit that it shocked the hell out of me too.” Victor’s mouth quirked and the tension eased from Patrick’s shoulders. “Your pony girls were a hit.”

  “In fact…” Shiloh waited until he nodded and then stood with a stack of storyboards. The first board displayed a pony girl in all her glory, from bit and head piece to hoof boots and tail. “We’d like to talk to you about a spinoff.”

  Patrick sat back in his chair, his mouth opening and shutting several times before he managed to find his words. “My own show. You’re kidding, right?”