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by Michele Zurlo


  Gram made a thoughtful noise. “That could account for many injuries. There—see? You can’t jump to conclusions. Have you called the police yet?”

  “No. I panicked, so I called you.”

  “I love you too, dear. But now you’re going to call the police, and you’ll call me back as soon as you can. Okay? That poor man probably has a family and friends who are out looking for him.”

  As always, Gram came through. Though she hadn’t needed Gram to talk her out of a panic attack in years, she knew Gram would know exactly what to say. “Okay. I love you. I’ll call you later.”

  She looked back at the entrance to the cave. There was no way she was going back in there. With one eye on the tide, she called the police.

  The Abiding Tide/Day 1:

  The room............................4

  Breakfast............................2

  Scenery..............................5

  Finding a dead body..............0

  ________

  Crossed, bacon-patterned duct tape marked X-shaped spots in several locations on the mattress propped against the wall. Liam rolled his shoulders and focused his attention on a sequence of four. With a deep breath, he let the flogger fly. It landed close to the first mark and hit the rest dead center.

  Clapping came from his left side. He glanced over to see if it was real celebration or controlled sarcasm. Sometimes with this crowd he couldn’t tell. Malcolm leaned against the wall, arms crossed loosely over his chest. Dustin lounged next to him with Layla, his girlfriend, nestled in his arms. Darcy, Malcolm’s wife, was the one clapping.

  “Great job.” She clasped her hands together in front of her chin. Her whole face glowed. “You’ve come far in two weeks. I think you’re ready to practice on a real body.”

  At this Malcolm merely shook his head. “Not you, sweetheart.”

  Darcy’s hopeful smile fell. “I’ll wear protection.”

  Mal’s laconic exterior didn’t crack. “Call me crazy, but I’m not letting a newbie practice on my pregnant wife.”

  Layla laughed, a soft bit of music that put an end to Darcy’s pout. “Under ten minutes. The evenings you have to work don’t count.”

  “I was sure she’d hold off for longer.” Dustin sighed. “I’m off tomorrow.”

  Liam eyed them curiously. “What was the bet?”

  Dustin released his hold on his sub. “If Darcy offered herself to be flogged in under ten minutes, then I have to cook dinner for a week.”

  “Naked.” Layla jumped up and down, and this time the clapping came from her. “And I get to feel him up.”

  For the past two weeks, Liam had been coming to Malcolm’s house every day to practice flogging techniques. This was his first foray into the lifestyle. It had begun with a casual conversation and an invitation from Malcolm to train in his dungeon. Liam had been around the periphery of the BDSM scene long enough to know that it appealed to him, but he wasn’t sure exactly what parts he liked. After watching Malcolm send Darcy to subspace, he knew without a doubt that he wanted to have control over a woman’s pleasure like that. He had reserved judgment on other aspects, like D/s and bondage, for now.

  Liam wagged his finger between Darcy and Layla. “You don’t think the two of them cooked this up so that Layla would win?”

  Dustin tilted his head to better study Layla. “They probably did. Of course, I never said she wouldn’t be naked or bound.”

  At this, Layla gasped. “That’s cheating. I have touching privileges.”

  Darcy pressed her front to Malcolm. “I swear I didn’t collude on this.”

  He traced a caress up her spine. “I know, sweetheart. Don’t worry—Dustin knows what he’s doing, and you will get a spanking.”

  Liam was no longer shocked by the fact that Darcy’s idea of a reward was a thorough spanking, and not necessarily an erotic one. “So, who am I going to practice on?”

  “Layla.” Dustin pushed her forward. “We’ll see if you can make her cry.”

  Layla didn’t protest. She dutifully crossed the room to stand in front of the St. Andrew’s cross. She waited there in silence.

  Liam motioned to her. “Where do I aim?”

  “Aim for Domination.” Dustin came to stand next to him. He motioned to Layla’s still figure. “You’ve seen this done before. Secure her to the cross, but make sure that she understands, without a doubt, that you’re in charge.”

  Liam studied the petite blonde doubtfully. She was standing there because Dustin wanted her to, not because Liam was throwing off Dom vibes. “Aren’t you in charge of her?”

  “Yes, and I temporarily give that duty to you for the purpose of this flogging.” Dustin waited for three beats, his ice-blue gaze steady and reassuring. “You can do this.”

  He knew he could do it, at least theoretically. “I’m not sure I could share my girlfriend with another person.”

  “I’m not sharing her,” Dustin clarified. “I’m loaning her out for a flogging. Sometimes I like to watch. If you did this without my permission or when I wasn’t around, then I’d probably kick your ass. I’d definitely slash your tires and set your computer on fire. Now get to it. I want to see her suffer.”

  Liam wasn’t sure if he had a sadistic streak. He kind of wanted Layla to enjoy it. With that in mind, he approached her. She stiffened as he came closer, and he put his hands on her shoulders. “Relax. Tell me what you like.”

  Her posture didn’t change. “I like a thuddy sting on my butt and thighs, and more of just a thud on my back.”

  Searching his memory banks, Liam mentally selected the two floggers he’d use on her. He looked toward Dustin. “Shirt on or off?”

  Malcolm shifted uncomfortably—Layla was his cousin—and Dustin grinned. “She’s wearing a bustier underneath.”

  He wasn’t going to undress his buddy’s woman. “Take off your shirt.”

  Once she’d complied, he lifted her wrist and secured it in the leather cuff attached to the cross. He wasn’t under the impression that she’d submitted to him. She was behaving because her Dom was watching. Something in Dustin’s tone when he’d said he wanted to see her suffer had subdued Layla. Her normal effervescence seemed to have converted to a calm, peaceful bubble bath.

  Once he had her bound, he checked the cuffs. “Color?”

  “Green.” Her steady tone exhibited a level of trust and confidence that calmed his nerves. Yep, this definitely was a two-way street.

  He started with the deerskin to warm her up. After a time, her whole body relaxed. A shiver of satisfaction washed through him, and he awakened to the awareness that he was completely in control of her experience. It was a heady feeling, but he didn’t know if this counted as a Dom experience. As he switched to elk, he glanced at Dustin to find his friend watching Layla’s face, his expression both soft and firm at the same time. Darcy had snuggled up to Malcolm, resting her head on his shoulder as they watched the scene.

  With a sense of purpose, he started slowly with the elk flogger. He beat a path up and down Layla’s back, butt, and thighs. Her shorts covered her ass, so he hit a little harder there. Red streaks marked her skin, and he found that he liked the look of it. Flogging a person was definitely an art. She sighed, and her whole body seemed to fall in line with the rhythm he set. A sense of lightness invaded his mind. It seemed as if his arm belonged to another person. It flew through the air on a sadistic autopilot.

  A hand on his wrist halted his actions.

  “That’s enough.” Malcolm regarded him with a knowing look, the deep brown of his irises brimming with understanding. “It’s called Dom space. While subs have the luxury of giving themselves over, a Dom, or a Top, has a responsibility to avoid losing control.”

  Alarm raced through Liam’s veins, banishing the heady feeling. He rushed to Layla, one hand tugging at the buckle around her wrist and the other on her lower back, ready to catch her if she fell. “Did I hurt you?”

  Pupils unfocused, she blinked at h
im. “I didn’t safeword.”

  “She’s near subspace.” Dustin unhooked the other cuff from the cross. Liam helped by freeing her ankles. “The more you do this, the easier it will be to develop an awareness of what’s going on with your play partner.”

  He couldn’t see her face. “How am I supposed to know when she’s in subspace? Why didn’t you stop me earlier?”

  Malcolm clapped his hand on Liam shoulder. “I stopped you when I saw that you were in Dom space. Dustin didn’t stop you because Layla wasn’t in danger. She’s full of endorphins and in a happy place. You could have probably switched to something with even more bite, something she normally wouldn’t enjoy, and she’d take it just fine.”

  Liam wasn’t sure he wanted to push that line just yet. “We didn’t talk about doing anything else.”

  “Which is a great reason not to do anything else,” Dustin said. He lifted Layla in his arms, and she snuggled into his chest. “Never use an implement unless you’ve both agreed on it. Layla would freak if you tried to use something with more bite. I only push those boundaries with great caution and a lot of preparation.”

  Liam had been part of the team that had taken down Layla’s ex-boyfriend and his human trafficking ring. He was aware of her history, and he admired her resilience. Many women would have given up the lifestyle after an abusive experience like that, but she’d found the courage to move forward with Dustin.

  “It’s time for aftercare,” Dustin said. “Usually when I’m training a Dom, or in your case, a Top, I have him do this, but since Layla is my sub, you can watch me.”

  That seemed fair. From what he’d read, aftercare could be a very intimate activity. And so he watched Dustin rub ointment into Layla’s back and thighs. He pulled down her shorts and massaged it into her butt as well. When that part was over, he wrapped her in a blanket, settled on the sofa, and held her in his arms.

  Liam left them alone. He looked to Malcolm. “How did I do?”

  “Fine.” Malcolm grinned. “Want to spank Darcy?”

  Liam wasn’t sure. They’d talked about this, so the invitation didn’t catch Liam by surprise. “Spanking seems like a punishment. I don’t know how I feel delivering punishment to someone who hasn’t done anything to me.”

  “She doesn’t consider it a punishment. It’s either discipline or a reward.” Malcolm turned to Darcy. “Sweetheart, why don’t you explain it?”

  Darcy smiled, a gesture that reached to the depths of her clear, blue eyes. “It’s in the tone and the intention. If Malcolm wants me to enjoy a spanking, I do. If I’ve let him down or upset him, then I can’t enjoy it. You can read a thousand articles about how the body relaxes or doesn’t, but at the core of it is the idea that I live to serve him. If I don’t get the discipline I need, then I can’t let go of whatever transgression I’ve made. I’ll spend days beating myself up about it. And most importantly, this helps me process my sometimes debilitating anxiety.”

  Liam had read a lot about the philosophy of discipline. He knew it was different for everybody. Darcy fell into the category of the rarest of masochists—she was a Painslut. Her body interpreted pain differently from most people. Layla, he knew, represented a greater percentage of submissives. She endured pain because her Dom wanted to dish it out. Though she could—and did—enjoy it, she needed a slower build and more of a scene to get herself into the right headspace.

  He studied her closely, noting how attuned she was to Malcolm’s body language. Mal nodded his agreement with her explanation, and she beamed. Liam continued with a different question. “What’s the difference between punishment and discipline?”

  Darcy giggled. “That’s up for debate. Some people don’t differentiate. Others do. You’ll get a different answer from every person you ask. For me, discipline is maintenance. It’s how Malcolm shows he cares. He’s not a fan of the idea of punishment, so if I’ve misbehaved—or he has—we talk about it. Layla would say that she doesn’t need discipline. When she misbehaves, Dustin would say that he punishes her—even though it might not look a whole lot different from what Malcolm would do with me and call it discipline.”

  Much like his online searches, Darcy’s explanation clarified nothing. Still, he nodded. “Spanking—is this discipline or pleasure for you tonight?”

  Her grin grew. “Both. I’ll be over there on the spanking bench while you two discuss Dom stuff.”

  Malcolm watched her go, his gaze glued to her ass. “It’s pleasure. I’m the only one who can discipline her.”

  “I don’t want to hurt her.” Liam folded his arms over his chest. “Are you sure about this? I kind of feel like an ass for entertaining the idea of spanking a pregnant woman.”

  Malcolm laughed. “It’s fine. I spank her almost every day. In all likelihood, you won’t hit her hard enough to do anything but make her antsy for more. She has a very high threshold for pain. I remember the first time I used a belt on her. I thought I’d delivered some pretty harsh blows, but she asked for it harder. It’s taken me some time to learn to meet her needs. You won’t hit it out of the park your first time. This is just for experience.”

  They went to where Darcy waited. Before laying on the padded bench, she’d lifted her skirt to reveal a pair of very sexy white lace panties.

  Malcolm swatted her on the upper thigh. “You couldn’t wear plain underwear for this?”

  Darcy peeked over her shoulder. She seemed to not notice that he’d smacked her leg. “Master, you picked them out. Do you want me to take them off?”

  Malcolm rolled his eyes, and Liam chuckled. His buddy had his hands full. Ignoring his submissive’s question, Malcolm faced Liam and held up his hand. “Cup your hand. Not only does it pack more of a wallop, but your palm won’t go numb so quickly. For most subs, a bare hand is fine. For this one, you’ll want a spanking glove or a paddle.”

  “Ooh,” Darcy said as she wiggled her ass. “Goody.”

  Malcolm rubbed his palm on her ass. “But tonight we’ll do it bare-handed so that you can feel what you’re doing. You want to start by stimulating her nerve endings. Rub her skin to wake them up, that way it won’t be a shock when you start the spanking. You did the same thing with Layla by starting with the deerskin.”

  As Malcolm had already flogged Liam—because anybody who was going to flog another person had to first experience it himself—he had an intimate knowledge of what the deerskin did. However, there was no way in hell that Liam was going to feel up Darcy’s ass. He let Malcolm do the honors.

  Motioning to Liam’s pant leg, Malcolm said, “It also warms up your hand. Trust me when I say that you’re going to want a warm up.”

  Liam rubbed his palm on the leg of his jeans. Suddenly the concept of delivering a spanking seemed too intimate to do with a married woman. “I’m not sure about this. I think I’d rather practice on a woman who isn’t married to you.”

  “We can do that, but it’ll take a while.” Malcolm rubbed the other half of Darcy’s ass. “In the meantime, I promised my sub another spanking. You can watch. Dustin can answer questions.”

  Before Liam could agree to the new terms, his phone rang, the X-Files theme whistling to life. Everybody in the room knew what that meant. Malcolm and Dustin waved goodbye, and Liam showed himself out.

  Chapter Two

  FBI crime scene analysts had been able to record the crime scene before high tide had come in again. Clustered in the cabin of the private jet, Liam’s team studied the images during the flight from Detroit to McKinleyville, California. While Brandy, Jordan, Jed, and Avery committed every detail of the digital images to memory, Liam combed through the data a fingerprint search had turned up.

  “Angelo Braithwaite, 47, single. Driver’s license shows a residence in Encino, California. No criminal record, but he has a slew of parking tickets. I’m waiting on the warrant to come through for credit card and cell phone records. Unless you want them sooner?” Liam had no problem hacking the victim’s accounts, but Brandy Lockmeyer did. His bos
s was a by-the-book kind of special agent with a pretty high conviction rate. It was generally best not to compromise evidence. However, the man was dead. He wasn’t going to be on trial for anything in this lifetime.

  A small frown creased the space between Brandy’s eyebrows, but she didn’t look up from the photograph she was studying. “Wait for the warrant. Check public records and social media first.”

  Liam had already done that. Angelo Braithwaite didn’t have any social media accounts, not even a Linked In profile to brag about his accomplishments as part of a sales team. Braithwaite had been a sales representative for a beauty supply company, and he traveled as part of his sales position. According to reports, he’d been at The Abiding Tide to try to get them to carry his company’s line of bath and body products. “As far as I can tell, he’s not social. If I had his phone and laptop, I could turn up something more conclusive.”

  “He has a connection to The Eye.” Jordan chimed in from his position next to Brandy. “There was graffiti at the scene. We’ll eventually find out what it is.”

  Jed Kinsley crossed the aisle and plopped into the seat next to Liam. At 6’2, Jed was only two inches taller than Liam, but his powerhouse build made him seem much larger. Just like many of the agents Liam knew, Jed considered himself a Dom, though he didn’t really talk about it much. “It could be a copycat. The Eye isn’t exactly shy about broadcasting their tags, and this one was hidden inside a cave.” He leaned over to look at Liam’s laptop. “Let’s look at the parking tickets. They’ll tell us where he’s been, and we can start to construct a timeline.”

  Liam had already thought of that. “The tickets are more than three years old, and they’re from Los Angeles. They’re not going to tell us anything of recent relevance.”

  Jed shrugged. “Let’s do it anyway. We may find something that helps us figure out what happened or helps us piece together clues. Was he a random victim, was he a target, or was he part of their organization?”

 

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