Re/Viewed

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Re/Viewed Page 17

by Michele Zurlo


  Tru tried to peer over his shoulder to see the digital clock, but he was very broad-shouldered, and she was too weak to lift herself very high. “How long was I asleep?”

  “About a half hour.” Liam’s breath tickled her neck, and she felt herself waiting for another kiss there.

  She pressed her ass against his thigh, seeking more of his touch. “Is it time for round two?”

  Jed chuckled. “It’s time to go over our cover stories. You don’t strike me as a natural liar, so it’ll take some studying for you to remember important details for our covers.”

  She brought her hands up, but her wrists were still bound, so she couldn’t rest her hands on his chest. “Why am I still tied up?”

  “Because I like you that way.” Jed’s grin dared her to argue. “Now let’s get our facts and details straight.”

  Tru frowned. “But Alex and Jewell know me already. I’m not the one who’s undercover.”

  “You’ll need to know our cover identities.” Liam finally bestowed the kiss on her neck for which she’d yearned. “A good sub will know things about her Doms, and a good Dom will know things about his sub.”

  She’d already told Alex some things about Liam and Jed. She hadn’t said much because she didn’t know them all that well. It would be difficult to argue with his logic, though she was tempted. Quelling the urge, she opted to cooperate. “True.”

  Liam twisted away, and when he came back, he had one of those Federal-issue file folders with the FBI seal embossed on the cover. “Favorite color: Blue.”

  She rolled, and they scooted to allow her to lay on her back. “Everybody’s favorite color is blue.”

  Liam regarded her with a wry twist to his lips. “Actually most people don’t have a favorite color. The majority of people have a range of colors they prefer.”

  “I like rainbows.” Tru had an appreciation for every color. After her parents had died, she’d designated a special memory for each color of the rainbow. Even though she mostly remembered her parents from pictures, she had been able to hang onto those specific memories. “When I was little, Gram painted one on the wall of my bedroom. She even put glitter in the paint so that it sparkled.”

  Liam’s gentle smile was aimed at her, but his eyes showed a mind miles away.

  She touched his face. “It’s okay to like rainbows and glitter. It won’t impact my opinion of your masculinity.”

  His eyes focused on her. “We really need to get through these items.”

  Jed took the file from Liam and tossed it on the floor. “Liam and I live in Denver.”

  “Okay. I can remember that. Why did you move to Denver?”

  “Work.” Jed propped himself up on one elbow. “We both moved there for jobs at the same company. I moved from Ohio, and Liam moved from Michigan. If you get those details wrong, it’s okay. We can always cover it with an argument about how you don’t listen well and need discipline. A D/s cover can be an asset.”

  Having conversations about what a person did for a living was definitely first-date material—or something discovered when hot FBI agents showed up to interview you about a murder you’d stumbled upon. She sighed. “It sounds boring. What does this company do?”

  “They advise people on investments, which is boring.” Jed traced a finger along her collarbone. “People aren’t supposed to want to probe deeper.”

  “Not unless they want to diversify their portfolio. Tell that to the wrong person, and you’ll be stuck discussing stock options for hours.” Tru sometimes disliked telling people that she was a writer. They were either unimpressed or they had tons of ideas for her—with plans to split the profit should she ever use any of those ideas.

  “Jed can hold his own.” Liam had propped himself up so that they both towered over her. “He used to investigate white collar crime.”

  She fingered a strand of Liam’s wild, dark hair. “And you can handle a tech conversation because you like to hack the CIA in your spare time.”

  “You told her that?” Jed’s entire body stiffened. “Brandy’s going to kill you one day, my friend, and nobody will find the body.”

  “It’s not that big of a deal.” Liam shrugged it off, but his body language told another story, and Tru realized that not only had Liam told the truth the night they’d looked at the stars, but he didn’t normally run around bragging about his hacking abilities.

  She rushed to reassure them both. “I won’t say anything. Really, I’m not a gossip. I listen more than I talk. Let’s discuss your kinks because that’ll definitely come up.”

  Jed pursed his lips, and his attention was back to her. “Basic history—I’m the middle of three boys. My parents are retired and living in Florida with all the other retirees. My older brother lives in Colorado, which is a great reason for me to have accepted a job there, and my younger brother is in grad school at the University of Wisconsin.”

  Tru blinked. She wondered how much of that was true, but she deemed it wise not to ask. The last thing she needed was to get real life mixed up with the cover story. “Got it.”

  Liam went next. “I’m an only child. My mother died when I was younger, and after several years in the foster system, I was adopted by my current mom. She recently moved into a condo in a complex that caters to retirees, and I visit her every day when I’m home.”

  Except that Gram would rather die than retire and Tru had never been in the foster system, Liam’s cover story was too close to her own history. She wondered what, exactly, was in the file the FBI had on her. “Do I have a cover story?”

  “Nothing other than what you already know.” Jed smoothed a thumb over her chin. “What’s the frown for?”

  “Your stories are each so simple. Real life isn’t like that.” Tru knew she was being a pain. Everyone had a story that could be simplified if only the emotion and meaning were removed.

  “Simple is best for now. We’ll add layers as we get to know one another.”

  Once again, he was right. It made sense that he’d know what he was doing. After all—this is what he did for a living. “We should really talk about kinks. I know you like bondage, and that Liam has a voyeuristic streak, but I should know more than that about you.”

  “And we should know more about you.” Liam shifted, stretching his neck and repositioning his shoulder so that it was centered over his elbow. “You’re from Northport, and you live with your grandmother, for whom you were named. What else?”

  She didn’t want to share anything else, but she knew that Alex wouldn’t buy the relationship if they didn’t at least know the basics. She exhaled. “My parents died in a car accident when I was almost seven, and my Gram raised me after that. She runs a bed-and-breakfast in Northport, so that’s where I learned the business. My best friend is Poppy Elliston, and we talk on the phone nearly every single day no matter where we are. I went to college after high school, though I did not finish, and I’ve always wanted to have a job where I could travel and experience the world.” She said nothing of the visions that occasionally appeared to her because that was also something she’d never told Alex about.

  They both looked like they had a million questions buzzing on the tips of their tongues, but they endured the stinging rather than let them fly free, and Tru appreciated their restraint. She didn’t want to tell them anything else. This was enough. Alex would buy that she would keep things from them because he knew that it took a tremendous effort before she would let anyone get close to her.

  Jed rolled his lips in as he thought. “Nipple torture is my main kink. I’m a sadist when it comes to that, but I’m not really into flogging or impact play for purposes of pain. I like to use it to induce subspace, but that’s all.”

  Tru considered what he meant by nipple torture because the label covered a host of options, some of which she liked and some that were hard limits. “I’m not into edge play. No knives, needles, or cutting. I can handle all sorts of clamps, though.”

  He circled one fingertip over her nip
ple, bringing it to a point. “Suction, nipple and breast bondage, and the use of a crop?”

  She hadn’t done any of that before, but as they didn’t violate her hard limits, she nodded. “That sounds okay, though the nipple bondage isn’t something I’ve done before. I’ll use my safeword if I need to.”

  “You’d better. There will be consequences for failure to use your safeword. You won’t like that spanking. I guarantee it.”

  Liam frowned. “I’ve heard about that—how spanking can be a punishment or reward depending on the circumstances. It’ll be interesting to see it in action.”

  Tru laughed. “You’re looking for me to misbehave?”

  His frown morphed into a grin. “I’m sure that’s just a matter of time. You’re willful and kind of bratty.”

  She liked his smile. “Yeah, but I’m also the kind of sub who would remember to buy ketchup at the bulk food store because you like it on everything. I’d even let you lick it off me if that turned you on.”

  Jed snorted. “Liam would never willingly eat anything from a bulk food store. He thinks the government spikes it with mind control drugs designed to make us docile and suggestible.”

  “It’s a great distribution mechanism.” Liam’s skin grew ruddy, and Tru couldn’t tell if he was angry, embarrassed, or a little of both.

  She lifted her bound hands and cupped his cheek the best she could. “You’re a conspiracy theorist? Like you believe in Bigfoot?”

  His lips thinned. “The existence of a squatch or other cryptids has not been disproven.”

  “Or proven,” Jed interjected. “Please don’t get him started.”

  Tru eyed Jed dispassionately. “The existence of many cryptids has been proven—the giant squid, coelacanth, and the Komodo dragon, just to name a few. ‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’ We have not explored every inch of this planet. Bigfoot could be hiding anywhere.”

  Jed rolled his eyes. “How can they survive in the hostile environments left alone by humans?”

  Tru had no idea because she hadn’t spent much time thinking about the issue, but Liam apparently had. He snorted. “They have evolved to thrive in cold, hostile, mountainous, and forested regions. That’s how they’ve survived this long, and that’s how they elude capture.”

  “I would be against capture,” Tru said. “They should be left free.”

  “Great. I’m in bed with two crazy people.”

  Sensing that he was feeling left out, Tru switched to caressing Jed’s cheek. “You’re in bed with two dreamers, and the great part about that is your access to our limitless imaginations. We could pretend you’re squatch men, and I’m the only female in the area—and I’m in heat. Or I could be running from you, and you have to catch me first. It might be kind of like this afternoon, only I won’t be as compliant.”

  His cock stirred against her leg, so she figured that he liked her imagination.

  “I like compliance,” Liam announced. “That’s the part of D/s that appeals to me the most. It turned me on how you wore the clothes we picked out and followed orders and got on the bed.” He pulled her knee up and draped her leg over his. “Touch yourself. I want to watch you masturbate.”

  She hadn’t expected that. Following orders turned her on as much as it turned him on to give them. She was rarely contrary. Jed pulled her other leg up and over his hip, and Liam kicked the sheet away.

  With nothing more than pleasing her Sirs on her mind, she lowered her bound hands and slid two fingers through her juices.

  The Put-In Inn

  Amenities........................................5

  Food...............................................4.5

  Activities...........................................5

  Available excursions......................5

  Sandwiches..................Mindblowing

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Billy Ray, I do declare, you are not good at following instructions. I pay you good money to keep yourself down in the holler and out of my beautifully coiffed hair.” Tru batted her false eyelashes and fanned herself.

  Though her acting was so far over the top that half the room covered their mouths to keep from chuckling, Jed didn’t find it difficult to stay in character. He didn’t like the idea of Tru—no matter what role she was playing—telling him to stay away. He scowled and strove to keep speaking in the passable Southern accent he’d practiced at Quantico when they’d considered stationing him in Louisiana. “Now, Tulip, don’t get your panties in a twist. You invited me to the party.”

  She huffed and shifted in her seat to give him her back. “Billy Ray, I would never invite you to a party where my fiancé is the guest of honor.”

  With a growl, Jed grabbed Tru by the forearms and hauled her against him. He didn’t like the jealousy boiling in his veins, but he couldn’t deny that it lent a realistic air to his acting. “You’re my wife, darlin’, and don’t you ever forget it.”

  Dare stood, drained his drink, and intervened. “Mr. Sticks, I’m going to have to insist that you unhand my bride-to-be.”

  Tru glanced over, a hint of reprimand behind her fake outrage. Dare was not getting into the spirit of the murder mystery party Miss Steffi, the owner of Put-In Inn, had arranged. His portrayal of Rich Richerson, a wealthy suitor for Tulip’s hand, was stunningly lackluster. Tru whispered, “Say it like you mean it.”

  “He doesn’t mean it.” Another guest, a woman whose role caused people to call her Anita Plum, made the comment to her real-life husband, but she spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. Anita wore a layer of makeup that would require excavation to find her actual face, and her husband had bathed in cologne. “The three of them are sharing a room—with one bed.”

  Before either he or Liam could defend her honor, Tru’s attention snapped to the woman. Her upper lip curled in a high-class sneer. “Sounds like someone is jealous.”

  Anita scoffed. “I don’t believe in that kind of lifestyle.”

  Tru’s eyes narrowed, and Jed made sure he had a good hold on her arms. The last thing he needed was to see Tru use this woman as her portable punching bag. “You mean, you don’t approve. Belief requires either proof or faith, and since we’re right here, you have proof. I highly doubt you’d be so critical if you worshipped us, therefore you should say that you don’t approve of our lifestyle. Not that it matters. Your bigoted, close-minded opinion doesn’t mean Jack shit to us.” Through it all, Tru’s tone remained modulated, and she didn’t once stumble in keeping her Southern accent.

  She faced Jed and planted a firm kiss on his lips. Then she did the same with Dare. As the other players picked their jaws up from the floor, Tru preened with pride. Jed released her arms, and she made a show of fanning herself, as if kissing them had ignited a fire she was powerless to extinguish. “I have never been able to resist a pair of handsome men who know how to handle a woman.”

  Some people laughed nervously, while others continued to stare. Dare didn’t seem to notice. He slung his arm around Tru’s shoulders. “Thanks for unhanding my future wife. Come now, Tulip. You’re overwrought because your father was just murdered in the study, probably by Ms. Plum and the candlesticks she stole and is hiding in that big bag she hauls everywhere.”

  “He was shot.” Yet another guest, the male half of the only Asian couple taking part in the game, interjected. Blake Wu, a bona fide crime scene investigator when he wasn’t playing the part of the unclaimed bastard son of the deceased, cleared his throat. “Not bludgeoned.”

  Dare pointed and winked. “Right. So not killed with the candlesticks. She just stole them because they’re silver, and the price of silver has been steadily on the rise.”

  If Jed hadn’t known Dare for as many years as he had, he would have bought him in the role of I.T. specialist for an investment firm attempting to have a weekend getaway with his girlfriend and her other boyfriend. It was clear to Jed which role Dare was actually playi
ng.

  His part over for now, Jed resumed his seat on the ottoman across from where Dare and Tru parked themselves. Dare held Tru’s hand, a move that would have worked in either role and served to stir jealousy in both Jed and Billy Ray. Ever since witnessing Dare and Tru discover things they had in common—like a crazy belief in Bigfoot—that seed of jealousy had blossomed, and Jed had struggled with the feeling that he didn’t belong with Tru. She’d met Dare first. She’d liked him first. She’d kissed him first. It was only when she’d thought Dare was out of the picture that she’d set her sights on him. Maybe when this was all over, he ought to step aside and let them pursue a future together?

  Playing a role where she rejected him in favor of Dare had to be fate’s way of warning him that it wouldn’t work out. After all, how many people did he know who had made a ménage relationship work? Zero.

  The impromptu play continued around him. He followed along in the booklet, but his part was mostly over. He was the abandoned first husband who refused to divorce the heiress whose father had been murdered. Like every other player, he had a motive for the murder. However it seemed as if the other players were uncomfortable bringing him into the conversation. He couldn’t tell if it was due to the fact that his skin was a different color or because he was the third cookie in an ice cream sandwich. How, exactly, did someone fit that monstrosity in their mouth?

  He looked up to see Tru watching him, a frown creasing her chin and marring her gorgeous forehead. He smiled, but the troubled expression didn’t disappear. “Billy Ray.” She spoke softly and in Tulip’s accent. “I know father invited you here to sign the divorce papers. I heard you in his study before the party started, but like the delicate flower I am, I fled rather than confront you.”

  He didn’t know where the glimmer of hope came from, but he seized on it. “You don’t want a divorce?”

  The concern melted away, and she grinned devilishly. “Oh, I do want the divorce. I can’t have my full inheritance unless I marry Rich. If you sign the papers, I’ll give you fifty thousand—for your trouble.”

 

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