by Avery Gale
“Why would someone who is stalking Cressida tap into the club when she hadn’t made any contact until recently?”
“I don’t know for sure, but her obvious connection to us might be a part of it. I have been going through her computer looking for clues, but I haven’t gotten far—the damned thing is so old it actually clunks and whirls when processing commands. I swear the thing is continually debating whether or not to spit out the answer. Probably a fucking bird in there with a hammer and chisel tapping out shit on a stone tablet.” Silence on the other end reminded Parker that Tristan hadn’t been raised in the United States so pop culture references like the one he’d just made to The Flintstones almost always left Tristan completely bewildered. “Never mind…Christ, I always forget your pansy British ass is clueless about important shit like cartoons.”
“Fuck you. You shouldn’t have been watching the telly anyway, it’s obviously contributed to you being a thickie.”
“True enough, though it’s probably unfair to blame television for my lower than average intelligence.” Parker knew without even being able to see his friend, that Tristan had rolled his eyes, which Parker considered a win. Tristan often slipped into British slang in what Parker considered a “baffle them with bullshit” move, so he’d learned early on to make a point to let his friend know he was fully aware of what he was saying. Parker ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “Whoever he is, he got in well before Cressida called you, so I’m hoping like hell she can shed some light on the situation for me.”
“What could his motive be? If he’s after T.E.G. secrets, why take the risk of getting into our system? And if he’s chasing the shadows and secrets of club members, he’s taking an even greater risk getting into T.E.G. Not to mention going after our members would be like setting yourself on fire in the middle of Rockefeller Center, you’ll get a lot of attention but in the end you’re still going to be burned to a crisp.” Parker wanted to roll his eyes, Tristan’s British sense of humor was often lost on people who didn’t know him well.
“Seriously, he must be more than a bit daft if he hadn’t done his homework and discovered her interest in the lifestyle. How did they meet, some fucking chatroom?” Tristan might have been speaking sarcastically, but Parker felt as if his friend had just pulled back thick drapes that had been blocking his view of the problem. The damned Brit had just exposed the whole thing to the light of day and the harsh reality that it brings into view.
Straightening in his chair, Parker responded with renewed interest, “That would go a long way to explain things, particularly if he fancies himself as a sexual Dominant.” The more Parker considered it, the more likely it seemed. The possibility that Cressida had used chatrooms as a resource when she’d been curious about the lifestyle was easy to imagine. All four of them had been aware of her return to the office late one night, she’d stood frozen in place listening outside the door as they discussed scenes, equipment, and training they had planned for the club.
Parker doubted Lawton or Brodie had ever told her they’d known she was there, but that night had been a turning point for his friends—their focus had changed from lusting from a safe distance to developing a strategy for making her theirs. Personally he was relieved she’d finally made the first move because Law and Brodie had driven he and Tristan bat-shit crazy brainstorming how to claim their lovely assistant.
“Review the membership list—see if you can identify anybody who would be skilled enough to pull this off.” After disconnecting, Parker tried once again to contact Carli Walker. Damn, somebody needs to paddle her sweet ass. If she’d just use the damned phone I gave her, this wouldn’t be an issue. He’d picked up Cressida’s phone, but he didn’t want to power it up until he’d gotten a bead on whoever had decided she belonged to him.
Parker dreaded telling his friends how serious he considered the threat to Cressida’s safety, because they were going to panic at the thought she could be in danger. He also knew Cressida would probably balk at the net Brodie and Lawton would drop over her—she would equate their legitimate concerns with smothering and then it would be game on. But Parker would agree to err on the side of the angels as his mom always said, seemed like the better option to him. The man stalking her had definitely done plenty of research and anyone that thorough needed to be taken very seriously. Hell, from what Parker could tell, his file on their lovely assistant rivaled their own. Honestly, if circumstances were different he’d be trying to hire the guy. When he finally reached up to shut down his workstation, he sighed when he saw the email notification for his personal account flashing in the corner. He was tempted to ignore it but he clicked on it and then wanted to growl in frustration when he read the cryptic message from the elusive Ms. Carli Walker.
What’s the fucking emergency?
The woman annoyed Parker more than was reasonable considering the contract he’d signed recently with her agency was substantially above his usual fee. After his initial meeting with Carli, he’d balked at taking her on as a client, but not for the reasons he’d shared. Something electric had passed between them at first sight—he’d felt it to his toes and he had no doubt she’d felt it too. The irony was, something about her called to the sexual Dominant in him, even when she drove him into the stratosphere of frustration. He’d done a cursory investigation of Carli during the in-depth background workup they’d done on Cressida.
Unlike her younger sister, who was exactly what she seemed—Carli was far more complicated. The many layers of Carli Walker made her not only the most annoying woman Parker had every worked with, but also the most fascinating.
*****
Dale Roberts frowned at his monitor as the tracking program flashed Carli Walker’s message to Parker Daniels—thankfully his submissive wasn’t as spirited as her sister, she might be pretty, but he’d be cutting her out of Cressida’s life as soon as possible. Carli’s insolent attitude didn’t need to infect Cressi any more than it already had. Oh, he fully expected both women to fight that decision, but it was non-negotiable and in the end, Cressida would submit to her Master. If the head of Templar Enterprises Group was contacting Cressida’s sister, she must be quite ill. It rankled him to think he wasn’t able to care for her when she obviously needed him. Maybe he’d whisk her away for the vacation of her dreams to help her recover, from what he’d learned about her she loved the beach—so maybe a few weeks hitting all the world’s best beaches would help her forget her sister’s negative influence.
Turning back to the second screen he’d been using earlier, Dale focused on the handwritten margin note and smiled. He’d known from the few comments she’d made in the chatroom that Cressida wasn’t worldly, but he hadn’t realized just how innocent she was until he’d seen this report. The enormity of the gift she would give him wasn’t lost on him either, and he’d been thinking about all the ways he could express his gratitude.
Not long after he’d found her online, he’d initiated security enhancements so sweeping to his personal estate the project designer had asked if he was trying to keep someone in or intruders out. He hadn’t realized how it might appear until that moment and in truth, both were probably equally accurate. Dale knew he’d have to keep Cressida close until she’d truly learned her place in his life, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t prepared to pamper her. His personal fortune was extensive and for the most part it was remarkably liquid because it was hard to invest in real estate when you couldn’t explain how you’d gotten the money. Drug cartels had insured the Feds stuck their fingers in every banking transaction involving a “significant influx of cash,” something he’d known—even as a teenager, to avoid.
Turning off the bank of monitors in his home office, Dale made his way up the sweeping staircase to step inside the large room across the hall from his master suite. The walls were lined with photos of Cressida—literally thousands of pictures. She’d taken very few steps during the past few months that he hadn’t had chronicled, and that was part of the reason he wa
s so troubled that he hadn’t known she was ill. When she is here…with me, I’ll always know—I’ll know everything.
Chapter Twelve
Cressida woke up in a tangle of arms and legs, and for a few heartbeats panic set in as she tried to remember where she was. “Shhh, sweetheart, I’ve got you.” Lawton’s arms tightened around her rolling her against his chest into a hug so settling she wanted nothing more than to stay cocooned in his embrace, but her bladder had other plans. His chuckle sounded so loud with her ear pressed against his chest that she wondered if he’d wake Brodie. “You’re wiggling so I’m assuming you need to use the restroom. I’ll let you up, but I want you to wait to take a shower until one of us is with you. How are you feeling? Or are you even awake enough to know, yet?”
“Much better, thank you. Whatever was in that flask your mom had last night really did the trick.” Cressida spoke as she moved because she didn’t waste any time scooting out the end of the bed, and she didn’t look back because she knew they were both watching her walk away—naked. By the time she’d finished, Cressida had gotten a good look at herself in the mirror and wanted nothing more than to walk straight into the small black marble room Lawton called a shower. Her hair was a riotous tangle that wouldn’t be tamed by anything short of a thorough washing and conditioning.
She hadn’t even realized she turned to stare longingly at the open doorway leading to the shower until large hands cupped her shoulders. Brodie’s words wafted over the top of her head, “I wondered if the temptation might be too much for you. I’m proud of you for not giving in to it, pet.”
“I really wanted to—even though the thought of it embarrasses me—I’m going to ask anyway because I made the mistake of looking in the mirror…would you watch me take a shower?” Her voice had gotten softer the longer she’d spoken and she’d be willing to bet her face was flame red.
Brodie turned her and smiled down at her and she wasn’t sure if he was pleased with her or laughing at her feeble attempt to get her way. “I know that was really hard for you and I’m very proud of you. We weren’t trying to keep you from feeling better, we simply don’t want you surrounded by all that unforgiving marble in case you became light-headed. You have taken an awful lot of medicine and eaten very little, by my estimation that is a recipe for disaster. If it’s all the same to you I’d like to avoid taking you to E.R. today for any reason.” Cressida sighed in relief that he wasn’t put out with her.
“Then you’ll watch while I take a shower?” She remembered they’d said the three of them would be going over her paperwork today and she really needed to feel more like herself if she was going to concentrate. There was still a piece of her that didn’t believe any of this was real—it would have been difficult enough for her to wrap her mind around even if she hadn’t been fuzzed over by whatever bug she’d caught. But the whole situation was almost too surreal to comprehend. She might not be sexually experienced, but she knew her own shortcomings all too well—her father had spent years making sure she was well aware of the fact that any attention she received should be considered a precious gift. His continual reminders of how little she had to offer made the truth inescapable. Cressi knew there was no way she’d ever be able to keep them—but for the next month, Brodie Walsh and Lawton Hill had committed to train her as a submissive and she intended to enjoy every minute of it.
A sharp slap to her backside jolted Cressi back to the moment and she looked up to see Brodie frowning down at her, “I don’t know what that thought was, but you’d better banish it right now, pet. Remember, we aren’t total strangers and I recognize that particular look. Stop thinking about all the reasons you aren’t good enough and pay very close attention to how much both of your Masters want you. Let the evidence speak for itself.” She smiled at his legal reference, the fact he’d known repeating something she’d heard him say multiple times would bring her mind back to center. She didn’t answer, but nodded her understanding. “All right then, let’s get you into the shower. I understand you’ll feel better and if you’re a good girl we might even let you wear a shirt while we feed you and chat.” The feral grin he gave her let Cressi know he wasn’t finished, so she just waited. When he praised her patience she felt a ridiculous sense of satisfaction, “Good girl, I know you wanted to ask a question, but you waited. Perfect. We’ll let you wear another of Master Lawton’s dress shirts, but you won’t be allowed to button it.” She wanted to argue—oh did she ever want to argue, but she didn’t think this battle was worth the effort.
And hour later she slid her empty plate to the side and groaned, “I cannot believe I ate all of that, but it was so good I couldn’t seem to stop.” Looking up at Lawton she started to ask if his mother had made it but the words didn’t make it out—the look on his face kept her from continuing.
“When was the last time you ate a meal, Cressida?” All four of the owners of Templar Enterprises had always called her by her full name, but the tone of Lawton’s voice clearly indicated he’d used it deliberately. He’d been using various endearments, but this question was something altogether different.
“Well, I’m not really—umm sure. I don’t cook much, so—well, do frozen dinners count?” The thunderous look on his face told her what she’d already suspected, “Evidently not, alrighty then. I think it’s been several days since I ate a full meal, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t eaten at all.”
“Do yourself a favor and stop talking, pet. Master Lawton is a stickler about eating right, and you already know this—so stop poking the bear.” Brodie’s tone had been teasing, but she knew there was also a thread of truth she knew shouldn’t be ignored.
Lawton’s arms were crossed over his chest making him look like some sort of Greek god posing as a sculptor captured his powerful stance for all eternity. His blond hair spilling over his forehead, his dimpled chin pushed forward slightly adding to the air of authority she knew he was exuding on purpose. The bulging muscles of his arms pulled the t-shirt he was wearing taunt so every dip and curve of his well-defined chest was highlighted in mouth-watering detail. Holy crap on a cracker, I want to lick him all over like a giant lollipop. “Did she just say she wanted to lick me? Seriously? I’m trying hard to keep from paddling her ass for not taking care of herself and she’s trying to distract me with a promise she should know I won’t even try to resist?” Cressi gasped in part because she hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud, but also because she’d been genuinely surprised by what he’d said.
“See, right there—that look says it all. Everybody is always so surprised to learn how intense you are.” Brodie might have been speaking to Lawton, but he hadn’t taken his eyes off her. “Pet, I’m not the only one who plays by the rules. It’s in your best interest to realize that now.” She managed to nod and he returned it with one of his own. “Now, let’s get this all put away and then we’ll move into the living room to begin.”
Cressi was suddenly worried she was in much deeper than she’d intended to be. When she’d called Tristan Harris, she had assumed she’d visit the club a night or two each week and the Dom responsible for her training would spend the first several visits explaining in great detail the answers to all of her questions. Now it appeared she would be getting far more than she’d bargained for, and the thought excited her as much as it intimidated her.
*****
Lawton had almost given himself a stroke trying to keep his libido under control when Cressida had said she wanted to lick him like a lollipop. Jesus, Joseph, and Mary, there’s only so much self-control a man can reasonably be expected to maintain after the woman he’d been fantasizing about for almost two years makes a statement like that. It had been enough of a challenge just to stand still while her pretty green eyes had swept over every inch of his upper body—hell, her stare had been so heated he’d practically been able to feel it warming his skin. If Brodie hadn’t diverted her attention, Law wasn’t sure he’d have been able to keep from taking her right in the middle of the kitchen. S
he hadn’t taken her eyes off his chest until Brodie had broken the spell by physically turning her toward him. Law almost felt himself sag in relief when her eyes were no longer leisurely roaming over him, the woman’s gaze felt like a magnetic force field holding him in place.
Brodie’s words brought him back to the moment, “Before we get started, we’d like to talk to you about an email we found on your phone last night.” Lawton heard her gasp of surprise just before she groaned. Obviously she remembered giving them permission to notify her sister she was ill—something they hadn’t yet done fearing her stalker would recognize a difference in the way things were phrased. “After we saw what he’d written, we were concerned and did some checking. Pet, we need to know everything you can tell us about him because he’s tapped into T.E.G.’s secure system and we’ve got Parker working to find out what else he might have gotten himself in to.”
“He’s good—whoever he is, he’s damned good at what he does.” Lawton wasn’t often impressed by someone’s hacking skills, he’d seen both good and bad over the years, but truthfully, this guy was among the best he’d ever come across. Parker had uncovered several more messages overnight, he’d also said there was something eerily familiar about the way “Master D” spoke in his communications. In Lawton’s opinion, Parker Daniels was absolutely one of the best security experts around, the man was practically psychic in his ability to get inside the head of whoever he was tracking. If he thought the writing was familiar, then he’d damned well seen it before, and Lawton didn’t doubt for a minute his friend would find the man responsible—they just needed to keep the beautiful woman in front of them under close watch until then.