Silver Tongue (a PowerUp! story)

by Marie Harte

  “Come here.” He whisked her inside and cleaned her up before she could refuse. “Sorry about that. I hadn’t meant to take so long.” He seemed preoccupied, but when he noticed her studying him, he pasted a smirk on his face. “Don’t look so sad, sweetness. We’ll do this again real soon.”

  Responding to the bite in his tone, she felt better as she corrected, “Kitty. My name is Kitty.” There. She’d sounded halfway like she meant it.

  “Not a good name for me.” He stared at her covered breasts, then lifted his gaze to her face again, his grin wicked. “Every time I hear the name Kitty, I think pussy. And then I remember how sweet and hot yours is, and my cock gets—”

  She slapped her hand over his mouth. “Shut. Up.” She pushed him from the bathroom, needing a moment to herself. As she washed her hands and composed herself, she kept her gaze on the mysterious woman in the mirror. The one whose eyes glowed with secrets and whose lips curled in remembrance of the brawny warrior just outside. More than a hint of fascination remained for Dane, and she had a bad feeling she was in more danger from him than whatever this mission might entail.

  Time to get The Little Death and get out of here. But like Dane when he heard her name, each time she heard the name of the statue, her thoughts immediately turned to orgasms. The Little Death, the big climax. Talk about irony.

  She rested her head against the mirror and took a long, deep breath. Then she let it out and prepared to face the lion again. But this time she’d remember not to be a lamb but a lioness, one who’d kick the lazy lion’s ass when he stepped out of line.

  Chapter Eight

  Dane had to hand it to her. Kitty did untouchable princess to perfection. Looking at her after she emerged from the bathroom, one would never know he’d had his fingers buried between her legs. Those luscious breasts mashed against his chest. Her mouth moving over him, or his cock buried up that tight pussy while she begged her master to come.

  Mastering his own desire had never been a problem before Kitty, and he had a bad feeling getting her out of his system would be easier said than done. He liked how she’d handled herself so far with Linda. Kitty didn’t come across as petty, bitchy, or jealous but as a confident woman assured of her place by Dane’s side. Not that she had to worry. Linda definitely wasn’t his type. She had wealth and beauty, but there was a coldness to her he didn’t like. Not like his hot redhead, trying desperately to put them back on equal footing.

  He hadn’t meant to take so long cleaning up, but he’d needed the time to get his head on straight. Fucking Kitty was so much more than he’d thought it might be. He found himself fantasizing about being her master on a permanent basis. The woman got to him on a level no other woman ever had. He constantly wanted her. Even now, after coming twice, he wanted to take her again.

  She responded to him so beautifully, and she’d really taken to giving up control. He knew they had more barriers to cut through, but the woman called him Master and made him believe it. Hell. He had a bad feeling he was letting this charade of them being a couple turn to reality in his feeble brain. Get a grip, dickhead. She’s not that great. It’s the job, and the newness of it all. Give her some time. She’ll bore the hell out of you.

  He firmed a handle on his stupid daydreams and joined Kitty. As they wandered around the gardens outside Linda’s house he counted four guards and several guard dogs patrolling. Dobermans. Terrific.

  “We played our part well, I’d say,” he said to Kitty, the first words he’d uttered since she’d shot him a frosty look after leaving the guesthouse. He needed to remind himself and her that they played a role. Nothing more than that.

  “Oh, you played it extremely well.” She glared at him again.

  Damn if her pique didn’t turn him on. “Be honest, Kitty. Is it that I made you come with an audience, or that I came twice and you didn’t that has you so torqued?”

  She gripped his hand—hard—and smiled at him. Out of her corner of her mouth, she replied with bite, “You can play all the mind games you want. Yes. I like your touch. I came. Happy now? We still have a job to do.”

  “Happy? Honey, I’m still aching. I can’t stop thinking about that sweet cunt gripping my dick.” He liked the flush on her cheeks. Her passion aroused him, whether angry, annoyed, or sexually frustrated. The woman hit his buttons. So they’d have sex. A lot of it. And he’d show her the dominant games he had a feeling she’d like. Why did it have to end so soon? She wanted him. He wanted her. And she hadn’t hit his last nerve yet, so why not let it play out? It wasn’t like this would be a forever kind of deal. But they obviously clicked. So they’d fuck a few more days after this operation. It made sense to him.

  “Dane,” she said in a slow, drawn-out voice. “We’re here because Linda wanted to meet you. Remember why we came.”

  “Came. Oh yeah. I can’t wait until—”

  “Damn it.” She seethed and jerked her hand out of his. “Focus, you moron. We have things to do.”

  He just stared at her and cocked a brow. He’d swear her eyes glowed with fire. This was what he liked about her. She’d pleaded and obeyed in bed. But here, now, the woman had no give. So damn sexy.

  “You’re pretty when you’re pissed.” He chucked her chin. “Relax, sweetness. I’m going to behave myself, and you and Linda can have a great discussion after dinner. Let’s just enjoy the evening and this amazing opportunity to see how the other half lives.” Truth be told, his instincts were warming up. Something bad was coming, and the thrill of living life on the edge had him humming under his breath. He lived for this shit. And now he knew what he’d been missing since he’d come home for good.

  His art soothed that part of him needing to express himself. The ranch provided a place for tough, physical labor when he needed it. But this? Going undercover with a sexy redhead to retrieve a dangerous object? Fan-fucking-tastic.

  “What’s that look in your eye?” She took a half step back. “You’re making me nervous.”

  “Honey, I’ve made you nervous since you first saw me. You like the look of me, and you know I can give you what you need.” He played loose with his partner, but she needed to wake up.

  “Oh?”

  He grabbed her hand, gripped it in his, and pulled her close. Then he kissed her, overtaking her until she melted in his arms. “Yeah, oh,” he rasped, trying to catch his breath. “Because if we were anywhere but here, I’d bend you over and fuck you raw right now. And you’d let me, even now, because you like me in charge.”

  She gaped at him. “N-not all the time.”

  “Maybe. Thought has appeal, doesn’t it?” He envisioned her wearing his collar. Strapped down to his bed while he readied to ass-fuck her. Hell. These few days together hadn’t been nearly enough to get her out of his system.

  “Y-you… I… Oh.” She yanked her hand away and stomped back toward the main house.

  Dane grinned. He slowed his pace to handle the erection he needed to will away before joining her. Yeah, they definitely needed to retrieve the statue and get back home. He had a woman to put through her paces, one who needed exactly what he could give her. Shockingly, he thought she might be able to handle him too. Didn’t that beat all?

  * * * *

  Dane sat at the dinner table, in love with the treatment Linda’s cook had given the steak. Kobe filets. At over three hundred bucks a pop, the stuff didn’t get much better.

  “Linda, this is incredible. But there’s no way in hell you can eat like this all the time, not with that fine figure, if you don’t mind me saying.”

  Kitty’s mouth tightened, but she didn’t otherwise react.

  He winked at her.

  Linda blushed. “I just love flattery. Feel free to continue.”

  He laughed. “Between you, your meal, your house, and your hospitality, I feel stupid for ever having turned down an invitation to visit.”

  “I know you artist types. Too busy with your creative processes to enjoy the finer things in life. They’re great if you
can afford them,” she added with a snort. “I grew up poor, so I know what I’m talking about. But that’s part of why I’m so determined to see that you have what you need to continue to create. I appreciate you and what you contribute to the world. And I have the money to show that appreciation.”

  Dane took that as his cue. “Speaking of money, I’m just dying to get a look at The Little Death. Kitty told me you have it, and color me more than impressed. You think maybe after dinner, I could see it? I’ve looked at pictures of it online, but you and I know that’s not at all the same.”

  Kitty concentrated on her plate, and Dane felt her mojo flare. So weird, yet intriguing. A feminine clap of surety, a push she directed at Linda. He knew it but didn’t know how he could tell such a thing.

  Linda wavered for a moment, then nodded. “Normally I’d keep my collection private. But for you, Dane, I’d be happy to give you a look. It’s absolutely fantastic. An exquisite piece with the keenest detail I’ve ever seen. It’s as if the thing is alive.”

  Just what he was afraid of. He glanced at Kitty and saw her subtle nod toward Linda.

  “That’s great. I’ll make sure to brag about it when I get back home.”

  She smiled with him. “So what are you working on now?”

  A few women in maid’s uniforms came to discreetly take their plates away when they finished. Then coffee and dessert appeared. His favorites, he noticed, amused Linda paid such attention to detail herself.

  “My latest project?” he said while staring hungrily at a piece of apple pie. “I’m at the beginning of a new piece. I’ve been inspired.” He shot Kitty a sly look, and the horrified expression on her face was worth every second of being away from his project.

  “Really? You’ve never done people before, only animals.” Linda looked back and forth from Dane to Kitty. “An artist and his muse. And I’m the first to know, aren’t I?’

  “Yep. I don’t tell anyone what I’m doing until it’s done. Normally. This is my first nude.”

  Kitty’s mouth dropped open but quickly closed, and she forced a smile. “Now, Dane. You know how I feel about posing for you.”

  “But Kitty, your form is perfect,” Linda protested. “Dane is a master with sculpture. Each of his pieces keeps getting better. I can’t wait to see it.” But the flash of irritation he saw in her gaze didn’t seem to fit with her excitement.

  Kitty didn’t seem to notice, or if she did, she didn’t show it.

  Half an hour later, Dane had consumed three helpings of pie and two cups of coffee and had talked more than he had in a month. He could have eaten more, but Kitty had thrown him a few dirty looks. He sighed to himself. No more pie. Instead, he turned to their host. “Okay, Linda. Let’s see this masterpiece worth its weight in gold.”

  She tittered. So annoying, that coquettish front. He’d seen the savvy businesswoman under the veneer, so why did Linda think she had to act like someone she wasn’t? Take Kitty. Though the woman currently pretended to be his girlfriend, she hadn’t changed her personality much at all. To his surprise, he found he actually liked being around her.

  “Okay, you two. Come with me.” Linda stood, and he and Kitty followed. While Kitty made small talk with Linda, he studied the pair. He could tell Kitty tried using more of her empathy, because he felt that energy flowing between them.

  Yet none of it touched him, which he found curious.

  They entered Linda’s locked study. She sat behind her desk, pulled out a drawer, and punched in a series of codes he couldn’t see past the tabletop. A secret panel on the far wall slid soundlessly open, revealing a small gallery filled with priceless artwork. To his pride and embarrassment, The Wolf’s Mate, his companion piece to Coyote Sings, sat under a glass dome, lit perfectly with a soft iridescent bulb.

  “You see? You’re a part of my favorites, Dane,” Linda purred. “And now, the piece you’ve been waiting for.”

  Kitty smiled, but he could see the strain on her face. She was pushing at Linda pretty hard.

  Linda stumbled over her feet, and Kitty helped steady her.

  “Oh, thank you.” Linda shook her head. “Too much wine at dinner, I suppose.”

  “Happens to me all the time,” Kitty said.

  Linda pushed a button on the base of the center pillar, and they watched as the curtain over the glass case lifted.

  The Little Death beamed underneath the glow of light both above and from under the pedestal.

  “That’s amazing,” Kitty said in a hushed voice. “God. It’s like they’re real.”

  The man holding the woman in the statue could have been a miniature person. The sheer sensuality on the man’s face as he screwed the sexy woman in his arms was arresting, no doubt. Dane felt like a voyeur watching two people going at it. He wanted to hold the statue, to touch it and stroke the fine patterns of their detailed bodies molded from what looked like a cross between clay and metal. He wanted to see if the statue was hot or cold to the touch. It intrigued him and repulsed him in equal measure. Which made little sense.

  Because as much as he wanted to touch the thing, he wanted to leave the room and never come back.

  Kitty and Linda seemed fascinated by it.

  Linda pushed a series of numbers on the small keypad on the base holding the statue, and the glass protecting it lifted.

  “Holy shit.” Dane watched as Linda stepped close enough to grab it. She lifted it off the pedestal and stroked the thing. His dick grew immediately hard. What the hell?

  By a trick of the light, Linda’s brown eyes seemed to turn black. Kitty shuddered, and Dane frowned, incredibly aroused and aware enough to know he felt nothing but physical lust for the statue, of all things.

  “So how did Owen know I had it?” Linda asked Kitty.

  Fuck.

  Kitty blinked once but gave nothing away. She frowned. “I’m sorry?”

  “Owen Stallbridge, your boss. Did you really think I wouldn’t know?”

  “I’m sorry, Linda. But you have me mistaken with someone else.” Kitty’s sincerity was palpable. “I work for Jack Keiser at the PowerUp! Gym in Bend, Oregon. That’s where Dane and I met, actually.” She shot Dane a big smile, but he could almost hear her mind whirring, trying to decide how best to handle this.

  “Linda, can I hold it?” he asked, his voice hushed.

  She glanced away from Kitty to the statue, then to Dane. He had the creepy sensation someone else looked at him through Linda’s eyes. “I don’t think so,” Linda murmured. “You’re close, but not there yet.”

  “Linda?” What the fuck was she talking about?

  She shook her head and put the statue down on the pedestal and lowered the glass. “I’m sorry if I sounded fuzzy. It’s a powerful piece, and it has the strangest effect on me.”

  Kitty remained silent, her gaze intent on Linda.

  Dane asked, “What do you mean?”

  “You felt it, didn’t you?” Linda nodded at the piece. “Its power. The Little Death feels true love, true passion. It feeds on it, and it gives its owner the power to make destiny a reality.”

  Talk about crazy shit. “Sounds like something my cousin would say,” Dane joked. “He’s big into fate and true love. Personally, I think he says half of that to get the girls. But it seems to be working.”

  Linda smiled at him before her gaze strayed back to Kitty and hardened. Then she shook her head, and that hardness faded. Dane had the weird sensation someone else had been speaking through her earlier.

  “True love, hmm?” Linda said. “I’m a big fan of romance. And speaking of which, perhaps we should adjourn to the media room. I have an old favorite for you to see. The original uncut version of Who Shot Daisy May?”

  A cult classic, and one Dane loved. The woman had killer intel. “That’s great. I love that movie.” He realized something. “Damn. You played a part in it, didn’t you? But you wore makeup.” He suddenly recognized her as the mysterious Madam X, the gypsy woman who cursed the heroine and started the wei
rd action in the campy thriller.

  Linda threaded her arm through the crook in Dane’s elbow and walked with him out the door, Kitty following behind. “I did indeed, my sexy young artist. So tell me, what was your favorite scene?”

  KITTY FOLLOWED CAUTIOUSLY, aware something had gone wrong. Linda knew about Kitty, despite Kitty’s solid cover. That bit about Owen clearly said as much. And the woman’s attitude had gone a complete one-eighty. Before, Linda didn’t seem to mind Kitty, and though the actress clearly wanted something from Dane, she hadn’t hinted at any romantic overtures or even of being threatened by Kitty. Until now.

  It had to do with that freaky statue. The Little Death—TLD—had power. She’d felt the thing’s energy as soon as Linda had raised the glass protecting it. The moment Kitty had gotten a clear view of it, she’d experienced a strange urge to cuddle in Dane’s arms, heart to heart, loins to loins, as if mimicking the couple in the statue. Too weird.

  Now Kitty had no idea how to play things. Though Linda had been hard to read before, she now radiated hostility. Not toward Dane, but toward Kitty. Perhaps it would be best to leave her with Dane, because she liked him well enough. Proprietary, affectionate, and doting. The woman was almost maternal in her emotions around him now. Time to stage a cautious retreat while Dane settled Linda down. There would be time enough to flood Linda with empathic suggestion and grab the statue later. Then Kitty and Dane could get the hell away from here.

  When they reached the media room, Kitty put a hand to her head. “Linda, Dane. Would you mind if I lay down for a bit? I have a slight headache. Probably from the wine with dinner. I don’t do well with alcohol.”

  Linda brightened with a false show of concern. “Oh no. I’m so sorry. Can I get you anything?”

  Dane shot her a frown, for leaving him with Linda or out of concern for Kitty? Knowing Dane, most likely the former. “I’ll come with you.”

  “No, no. Dane, I know Who Shot Daisy May? is your favorite movie. Stay with Linda and enjoy. I just need a short nap. We did a good bit of traveling today, remember. I’m just glad I won’t be dragging you down.” She turned to Linda. “He loves that movie, and being with you is a treat all its own.”