Anna Leigh Keaton & Madison Layle - Incognito 04 - Healing Heather

by Anna Leigh Keaton

  Paul’s hands cupped her butt and squeezed. Tingles raced up her spine. He sure knew how to touch a woman. “Gotta move, honey.”

  She grumbled, but slid off of him, curling up on her side. He chuckled and kissed her forehead. “Be right back.”

  He walked out of the room, his naked back and ass looking so bloody good. For a man over forty, there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. He was all hard muscle and lithe movements.

  She buried her face in her pillow. Hell. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She’d sworn off men in general and especially Doms. But here she was, still feeling the languid effects of an incredible fuck and fantasizing about keeping him.

  Well, forget that! No more Doms. Ever. This was a stupid mistake. One that wouldn’t happen again. Just because the devilish detective snuck into her bed once didn’t mean he was going to do it again. She was not part of that world any longer, and she’d be damned if she let anyone drag her back in. This was her farewell fuck to the BDSM life.

  Besides, it wasn’t as if Paul really dominated anything. That was about the most vanilla-like sex she’d had in more than a decade.

  She felt the bed dip, and then Paul’s lovely, big hands closed around her as he snuggled her against his chest.

  Bloody hell. She should kick him out of her bed. And her house. He’d taken advantage of her during a moment of weakness. She’d simply been lonely and scared.

  Yeah. Right. She might believe that nonsense if she hadn’t had the best orgasm in years and was already feeling the arousal return simply because he touched her.

  “Hiding?” he asked, brushing her hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear. She could hear the laughter behind the word.

  She turned her face toward him and stuck her tongue out.

  He chuckled and nuzzled her cheek. “Fiery little thing, aren’t you?”

  She looked away from him. “I’m sure it’s safe for you to go now, Detective Baxter. It is daylight. He never shows during the day.”

  “We’re back to Detective Baxter, are we?” He tipped her chin with his finger and frowned down at her. “Think again, honey.”

  She scowled right back.

  “How long have you lived in the States?”

  Blinking, she answered, “Two years, why?”

  His grin was full of humor, as were his eyes that seemed to sparkle with those intriguing golden flecks. “When you’re angry, your accent is so thick I can barely understand you, yet when you get all righteous, you speak nearly flawlessly.”

  “You’re making fun of me,” she said, putting on a pout.

  He chuckled and brushed his lips over hers, a gentle caress she felt all the way to her toes. “Never, honey. I’d never joke about something I find sexy as sin.” His tongue traced her bottom lip, and she longed to open to him, deepen the kiss, and make it last until they were both breathless. “Tell me how you got involved with BDSM.”

  She jerked back at his question, making a fireball of pain explode in her side, squeezing the breath from her lungs.

  “Careful.” He kissed her on the nose. “Don’t get all upset. I’d just like to know what landed you in Harold’s clutches.”

  She settled back against his chest when he gently urged her to do so, then let out a slow breath. “How do you know his name? I never told you.”

  He was silent so long she wondered if he’d answer, but he finally said, “I have connections at Incognito. I’m a member there.”

  Not only was he a Dom, he knew about Incognito. Why should she be surprised? It was the best fetish club within a hundred miles, which catered exclusively to BDSM and alternative lifestyles.

  “Are you going to answer me?” His voice held a note of sternness, but for some reason he didn’t frighten her. With his size, he could do some serious damage to her, as bad if not worse than Harold had. But she wasn’t afraid of Paul, which was probably because she was an idiot. Harold hadn’t scared her either, at first.

  She rolled onto her back, looked up at the ceiling, and sighed. She’d never discussed the intricacies of her marriage with anyone. But what the hell, she thought.

  “My husband and I married very young, less than a month after high school graduation. By our mid-twenties, our marriage was in the shitter. We were fighting all the time. As a last ditch effort, we went to see a marriage counselor.”

  Paul laced his fingers with hers and raised her hand to his lips. “Go on, honey,” he quietly urged.

  She glanced over to see his intent gaze focused on her. Looking back up at the textured beige ceiling, she continued, “We were too competitive, battling over everything. Even in the bedroom. Instead of making love, we made war.” She shrugged. “But we truly loved each other and didn’t want to end the marriage no matter how unhealthy it was.”

  Paul pulled the covers up over them and laid his head on her pillow. She could feel his breath on her shoulder and found it comforting.

  “The therapist sent us to a BDSM instructor. He thought if one of us could learn to give in, at least in the bedroom, so that there could be a return to some semblance of the relationship we’d had years before, there might be hope for us.”

  She grinned at the memory, picturing her dear departed Davie’s face. “We each tried being a bottom and top, swapping places each session. But he was too dominate by nature and couldn’t give in. For me...it was a relief to give up control and be taken care of. Our relationship became stronger than it had ever been, and we spent the next ten years as the happiest couple we knew.”

  “What happened?” Paul whispered.

  “Davie had a brain tumor.” Tears threatened, and she turned her face away so Paul couldn’t see. She’d never spoken about the pain his loss caused her. How she’d lost half her soul.

  Paul gently turned her head to face him. He kissed her forehead, her cheek, then brushed his lips ever so softly over hers. “You loved him deeply.”

  She nodded.

  “Tell me.”

  She shrugged even as a tear slipped down her cheek. “He woke up one morning with a headache. He never got headaches. By afternoon it was a lot worse, and he had tingling in his fingers. He was at work and came home early. He went to rest on the sofa, but when I called him for supper, he couldn’t stand. His left side was paralyzed.” Her chin wobbled and her throat hurt from holding in the tears. “He died a short time later.”

  “Aw, honey.” Paul pulled her into his arms and held her while she let the pain out. She knew Davie was in a better place, but she missed him so much.

  After she stopped crying, Paul wiped her tears away with his fingers. “Just a little more, Heather. Tell me how you wound up with Harold.”

  She nodded. Licked her lips. “A year after Davie died, IreTech, the software company I work for, wanted me to come to Florida when they opened offices here. I thought it was a great new start.” She brushed the remaining moisture from her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I’d never been out of Ireland and was so excited. But I soon found out how lonely it is being in a new place among strangers.

  “When Davie died, I never thought I’d want another lover, but...”

  “You weren’t the one who’d died.”

  “Right.” She huffed out a quick breath and swallowed. “Anyway. I found a small group of BDSM players online. Through them I met a local guy named Travis, who is a member of Incognito. He gave me a referral, and I joined. Katriona was very helpful setting me up with a few Doms, but I never clicked with any of them. For the most part they wanted slaves.” She shook her head and frowned. “I’m not a slave, have never been a slave. And I do not tolerate pain of any kind.”

  “What did Davie do to punish you?”

  She grinned at Paul, then chuckled. “Ahh, he was very inventive.”

  Paul raised one sexy eyebrow, his eyes sparkling. “Tell me.”

  “There was one afternoon I remember quite well. I’d told him he was full of shit during some argument we were having.” She laughed. “He tied me to the
bed and tortured me with a vibrator and an ostrich feather for a full five hours. Kept me on the edge, but never let me come.”

  Paul made a face of agony, which made her laugh and shove his shoulder. “I’d think a spanking would be preferable to five hours of sexual torture.”

  Still grinning, Heather winked. “Best orgasm I’ve ever had, once the bugger let me come.”

  Paul chuckled.

  Heather realized she’d never shared the good memories of Davie with anyone, either. She’d had friends back in Dublin, but none she could really confide in. Why now? Maybe because time helped soften the pain of remembrance. Maybe knowing Paul was a Dom made sharing her past easier. For some reason, she felt more comfortable talking to him.

  Toying with a lock of her uncontrollable hair, Paul pressed on, as she knew he would. “Harold.” He didn’t need to say anything else.

  “About two weeks before the attack that sent me to the hospital, Travis, the guy who first took me to the club, introduced me to him.”

  “You weren’t involved with Travis?”

  She shook her head. “He’s a slave. And homosexual.”

  “Go on.”

  “The first night we talked. Laid down our rules. You know, the negotiations. We met again a few nights later and...everything was fine.” She frowned. “About the fourth night, something was strange. He was a bit rough, and I called a stop to it. Afterwards he apologized. Again, everything was okay. Then...then he snapped.”

  “How?”

  “He wanted to do one of the voyeur rooms. I’ve never done exhibition and thought it might be fun. He cuffed my hands behind my back, which was nothing out of the ordinary for us. He was on the bed, and I started giving him a blowjob.” She swallowed, feeling ill, and took a couple deep breaths. “His hands were in my hair. His grip tightened, and it hurt. I tried to pull away. I couldn’t say my safe word. He wouldn’t let go, yanking my hair, and...choking me.”

  “It’s okay, honey.” Paul smoothed his thumb over her cheek and cradled her head against his shoulder. “Tell me what happened.”

  “I bit him, only hard enough to make him release me. I called out my safe word, and he hit me. Hard. I almost fell off the bed. He hauled me back by my hair and started punching me. I don’t remember a whole lot after that. Kat’s guards came in and pulled him off me. Then some women helped me, gave me some clothes and stuff, and Kat made sure I got to the hospital. And then you came in.”

  She looked at him through damp eyelashes. She hadn’t even realized she’d been crying again. Damn her weakness.

  “I’ll get that bastard for you. You can count on that.”

  Chapter Five

  “What are you doing?” Heather cried when she walked into the living room and saw snakes of electrical wire dangling out of the wall by the door.

  “Almost finished.”

  Even though he seemed to know what he was doing, Heather’s anxiety had only grown over the past few hours. It was time for the man to get out of her house so she could get back to life as usual.

  “First you drag me all over town. The hardware store, the convenience store, sporting goods store... What? Did you run out of bullets?” He chuckled, shook his head, and she glanced at the big, black handgun lying on her oak coffee table. “Then, you come back here and tear my house apart.” She folded her arms over her chest and, damn it, couldn’t help but admire the sexy curve of his muscular bare back as he bent close to his handiwork. “I’ve heard about men like you.”

  He turned his head and raised an eyebrow at her. “Men like me?”

  “Aye. Always messing with things. Taking them apart. Trying to fix them. Don’t you have a house of your own to play with?”

  He chuckled again and resumed his work. “No. I live in an apartment, and my landlord wouldn’t be too happy if I tore apart the walls.” A loud beeping started. Paul poked at the thing, and the noise stopped. Then he pushed the key panel into the wall and screwed it into place.

  She grumbled, but moved closer to look at what he’d done.

  “There are sensors on all doors and windows. Once the alarm is activated, if a door or window is opened, the alarm will sound.”

  He opened the front door to prove his point. The beeping wasn’t so bad. But just as she thought that, it changed into a loud screeching that hurt her ears. Paul poked the keys, and it stopped. “That’s the sound you’ll hear if you don’t type in your code within thirty seconds of opening the door. Once I call the security monitoring center and activate the system officially, they’ll be notified of the alarm if it’s not disarmed in time. They’ll try calling first, and then notify the police to send a patrol car out to check on you.”

  She frowned. “What’s the code?”

  He pulled a piece of paper from his back jeans pocket and handed it to her. “This is the code as it is, and the directions on how to change it.”

  She glanced at the paper then backed away from his masculine scent. He needed to go now, before she did something stupid. Like haul him back to her bed and make sure he took advantage of her. Standing there bare-chested and slightly sweaty after working all afternoon, he was way too yummy looking. Bloody hell, she wanted him again. Her body begged for his touch.

  “Thank you,” she said politely. “How much do I owe you for this?” She turned toward the kitchen to retrieve her checkbook. “You must have spent a small fortune on this stuff.”

  He followed her into the kitchen, but when she reached for her purse, he caught her hands in his, wound them behind her back and pulled her against his chest. “You don’t owe me anything, honey.” He dipped his head and nibbled on her earlobe. “Knowing you’re safe is all the payment I need.”

  She shook her head. “I know cops don’t make that much money.” Her breath hitched at the seductive stroke of his tongue on the shell of her ear, but she tried to cover it. “You can’t just go around putting in security alarms for every woman you come across.”

  He laughed. The sound sent a frisson of tingles down her spine, and it took all her will not to lean into him.

  “First of all, don’t worry about my finances. And, no. I don’t do this for every woman I come across. Only you.”

  “W-why?” She squirmed against him, trying to put some space between them, but that only heightened the sensation of his hard chest against her even harder nipples. And his long, thick erection against her middle.

  “Because,” he said with his lips against her cheek, his hot breath skimming her flesh, exciting her even more, “I care about you. I need to take care of you.”

  “No.” She jerked her hands loose of his gentle grasp and backed away from him. “No. You do not need to take care of me. I’m a grown, independent woman. Hell, I’m pushing forty, so I don’t need a babysitter. It’s time for you to leave.”

  He shook his head, his gaze so intense. A battle was brewing. “I’m not going anywhere until that bastard is behind bars. You’re not safe.”

  “You just installed enough electronic alarms to secure Fort Knox.” She moved to put the counter between them. “I’m sure I’ll be perfectly fine now. Besides, wouldn’t it be better if you were actually out looking for him?”

  He rounded the counter, trapping her in the corner, his big, beautiful body looming over her. “Some of our department’s best are searching for him. But he’s been a wanted fugitive for a while. He knows how to stay off radar, and I think he’ll come back here. When he does, I’ll be waiting.”

  “He’s not going to come back.”

  That one eyebrow went up, and it was so damn sexy she wanted to smack him. “And how do you know this?”

  “Why would he? He wanted another crack at me, and he got it.” With her hand rubbing her sore side, she shook her head and frowned. “I’m sure he’s moved on to someone else by now. Not that I want some other woman to suffer at his hands, but I’m sure he’s done with me.”

  Paul cupped her face between his big, warm palms. “You listen to me, Heather. This guy
is fixated on you, and he’s not going to be satisfied with a kick in the side. I’ve seen too many others like him. He won’t stop until he’s caught...or has finished what he started with you. I will not let that happen. I’m not leaving. Understand me?”

  She pulled her head back. “What do you mean others like him? What do you know that you haven’t told me?”

  He took a step back and turned away.

  He was keeping something from her, and she didn’t like it one damn bit. “You listen to me, Detective Baxter. I have every right to know what he’s done. You canna keep me in the dark.”

  “Can’t you just trust me on this?”

  She stood her ground with folded arms. “No. Not when you’re obviously keeping secrets.”

  He shoved his hand through his hair and leaned against the opposite counter. “Look...all right... I got a call from the crime scene investigator this morning while you were sleeping. The Harold Stevenson you know doesn’t exist.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s an alias. The fingerprints found here belong to another man whose real name is William Harold Reeves. He’s a convict who served time for sexual assault in Texas, and is currently wanted for two kidnappings and a string of rapes in three states. Now do you see why I’m not leaving you undefended?”

  She swallowed the fear climbing up her throat and met his eyes levelly. “I understand your concern, Detective, but that doesn’t change how I feel. I can’t live like a prisoner in my own home. I won’t.”

  “You’re not thinking straight. That bump on your head must have been a lot harder than I thought.”

  Grinding her teeth to keep from yelling at the arrogant jerk, she said, “You may leave now, Detective.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. Didn’t you hear a word I said?”

  “I heard you loud and clear. You’re the one not listening. I have a life to get back to, and I’ll not let that criminal take up one more precious minute. Tomorrow morning I’m going back to work.” She ignored his shaking head and pressed on. “Thank you for your help. I do appreciate it, but I willna live in fear.”