by Lea Griffith
“J.C.?” Toby prodded.
“Give me two hours. And bring Stanton back with you. He needs to set up surveillance on her and make sure nobody comes close. I don’t know what the hell my brother’s involved in, but it can’t be anything good.”
“Got it.”
Copeland shut off his cell phone and moved back into her room. She’d done really well for herself after she’d left her family. Or maybe he should say after her father had disowned her.
What a bastard her father, Heyward Edwards, was! How the hell Toby and Daly survived such an egomaniac, Copeland had never figured out. Their mother died when Daly was three. Five years older than his sister and without his mother to buffer, Toby suffered the brunt of their father’s domineering personality for a long time. It continued through his teens. Toby finally told the former senator, by then a federal judge, to shove his money up his ass. He didn’t need him and could do fine on his own. He’d gone to work with Copeland and it infuriated Edwards. Then Daly grew up and landed in Copeland’s arms. It drove Heyward Edwards off the deep end into bat-shit crazy.
He sat down on the chaise lounge he’d been sitting on when she first walked into her room. He’d guessed at the code to her security system—and he’d guessed right. His Daly had been a bit predictable in some things back in the day. He’d been thankful she still was as he picked her lock and entered her house. He was having her security upgraded ASAP.
He smiled then. That would straight-out piss her off. It might be wrong, but he was looking forward to it. He wouldn’t mind a session or two reacquainting her with how to be quiet and obey her Dom.
Her presence took his breath away every single time. She’d walked into his club tonight and he’d felt electricity zing through his bloodstream. The effect she had on him hadn’t diminished; if anything, time and distance had made it stronger. He still wanted her like hell on fire.
Daly had been sixteen when she’d left her mark on him. He’d been practicing the Dominant/submissive lifestyle for three years at that point, diving into the kinky end of the pond at a local club. His desires had always run darker, deeper. He was five years her senior. She’d been too damn young for him, though her innate submissive nature imprinted along every nerve he possessed. Copeland hadn’t been a saint, but he’d waited, holding in check that part of himself he instinctively knew only she could call forth.
When she turned twenty-one, he made her his. For someone who’d scraped the bottom of the barrel for food as a child, she had been beyond his scope of understanding. Her beauty, her generosity—they were things he’d never known. But by God he’d tried to understand. And he’d tried to make her happy. Ruefully, he acknowledged that Heyward Edwards had been right about one thing: Copeland wasn’t good enough for Daly.
She’d walked out on him. Her lover. Her mate. Her Dom.
He sighed and rubbed the area over his heart. Her body remembered him. Even if her mind resisted, her skin still heated for him and her pussy still went wet from a simple command.
She’d gifted him with her complete submission in the past. She’d given him a taste tonight. But Copeland was a greedy man and he wanted it all. God help her now.
He was going to take what she’d offered him with her body. He’d tackle her heart and her misgivings as he went.
Chapter 4
Daly woke up feeling empty and cold, but her anger warmed her and left her shaking. It was Saturday, there was nowhere pressing she needed to be, so she showered slowly, wondering how in the hell he’d managed to get around her hurt—how she’d let him back in so easily.
Was she so weak that she couldn’t overcome a full-on, sensual attack from the man who’d broken her heart? Maybe her need for him was something she just couldn’t resist? She scrubbed hard, hoping to rinse the feel of his hands off her body. It didn’t work. She shivered as she remembered the ease with which he’d taken her to orgasm.
A word, a pat, and she’d been blown away. Her body was traitorous. So is your heart, her mind whispered. “Shut up,” she said aloud.
She had to take back control somehow. It may have been only a single orgasm, one encounter, but with Jeremiah once was enough to bring all the love, need, and yes, heartache back in full force. Daly needed to show herself she could overcome last night. She lathered her hair and remembered the sting from his hands as they’d wrapped themselves in it. Her inner muscles clenched at the memory, so she rinsed quickly and began to scrub again.
The water was scalding, but nothing erased the feel of his lips on her breasts and his fingers on her clit. Nothing could wash away his invisible mark on her heart.
Daly gave up and turned the water off, stepping out of the shower as she dried herself. She wrapped her hair in a towel, put on her robe, and tried to find some peace in her everyday routine. It didn’t work.
“Damn you!” Who was she cursing? Jeremiah or herself?
He’d left her no note, nothing but the buzz in her body and the hole in her heart as if he’d never even been there. She had to gain back the ground she’d lost in her fight to stay away from him.
She cursed his brother. Why the hell had he left his ring on her doorstep? She’d known from the second she’d seen the heavy gold class ring that she’d have to deliver it to Jeremiah. The name engraved on the inside had confirmed it was David Copeland’s.
She’d called Jeremiah but he’d never called back. Daly had no choice but to go to him. The ring was a call for help. If David left it on her doorstep, that meant he couldn’t contact Jeremiah directly.
God, how she’d fretted!
Jeremiah had been left alone on the streets at the age of twelve with a ten-year-old brother and a seven-year-old blind sister. He’d gone through hell to take care of them and keep them out of the system.
Daly had been with Jeremiah the last time that damn ring was sent to him. She’d experienced firsthand exactly how his brother took precedence over everything, including Jeremiah’s relationship with Daly.
As a criminal justice major in college, she’d known it when Jeremiah crossed the line. It had been intolerable to witness. He’d worked so hard to pull himself out of the back-alley deals and criminal activity he’d participated in with the Dixie Mafia, the largest crime syndicate in the southeastern United States. And then he slid back in so easily. She hadn’t mattered enough to him. What they had together hadn’t been enough.
So Daly left. Two months later he’d shown up at her new apartment, demanding she return. She’d asked him if anything had changed. He responded by asking if she would just trust him. To this day she remembered the agony on his face as she shook her head. And she remembered the razor blades across her soul as she shut the door in his face.
Three years passed. She hadn’t dated, hadn’t made love, hadn’t even kissed another soul. She’d become a cop, given it up, then turned to social work in the juvenile justice system. Her nights she’d spent as a recluse. The thought of opening herself up to a man and possibly experiencing that pain again hadn’t been an option. It was easier to be alone.
Until the fucking ring showed up.
She should really be honest with herself. She hadn’t risked seeing Jeremiah to give him the ring because of any trouble or danger David was in. David wasn’t important in the equation. She’d done it for Jeremiah. The thought of him hurting because his brother was in danger and he might not have known it in time was more than Daly could bear.
She paced for long minutes. The reasoning behind her actions didn’t matter. She’d given her body to him too easily. She’d fallen back into him too fast. There had to be something she could do to resist his pull—to take back control of her responses. Some way to show Jeremiah he couldn’t break into her house, touch her body, bring her to orgasm on demand, and walk back out.
She’d show him—that was it!
The idea hit her hard, and once it took root there was no way to get past it. When she left their loft three years ago without his collar, she’d taken back her love and caring. She�
�d taken back her body and her emotions.
She’d damn well show him nobody owned Daly but Daly.
* * *
Toby looked at her from his post at the entrance of The Underground and cocked an eyebrow. “I’m not letting you in.”
Daly had anticipated his reaction to her presence. He was her brother, but he was also Jeremiah’s loyal employee and best friend. So Daly took her time and planned accordingly. It was ten P.M. now. Toby’s phone rang at precisely that moment.
Daly uncrossed her fingers behind her back, silently thanking Jose for his help. He had once been one of her kids when she first started work at the Department of Juvenile Justice. She’d discovered him going through the system, losing himself and all hope. He reminded her of Jeremiah. Hell, all of her kids reminded her of Jeremiah—hard, but vulnerable way down deep.
“What the hell?” Toby said into the phone before he shoved it back in his pocket. He pointed at her and ordered, “You stay here,” before he sprinted down the sidewalk.
Daly smiled as she watched him leave, and then she calmly walked around the rope and entered The Underground. The music was the same as last night, loud, thumping, and so fucking sexy her eyes nearly crossed. She’d dressed for maximum effect; however, nobody but Jeremiah would know that.
“Ma’am,” a dungeon monitor said as he inclined his head.
Daly smiled, passed him, and kept walking. She took a direct path to the steps that led upstairs. There was an elevator around here somewhere, but she didn’t have time to look for it. Jeremiah had built his club right smack in the middle of downtown Atlanta, renovating an old office building and making it blend in with the surroundings. From the outside, no one would recognize what went on behind the shiny, black lacquer door. It was classy, nondescript, and hidden in plain sight.
Well-dressed people came and went all hours of the day and night. To her knowledge, he had the proper permits for his club and had never been cited for the activities that occurred within it. She had no doubt there were prominent people from Atlanta’s upper echelons, maybe even the local government, who were members. Powerful people liked powerful kink. Jeremiah’s club provided a safe haven for them to act on their carnal urges and not risk the general public finding out.
Members were strictly vetted and background checks were essential. She’d researched the club online after she’d showered this morning and then she’d called Candace. Candace had grown up on the streets with Jeremiah, was still his friend, but Daly had claimed her too. And she wouldn’t let her go just because she’d left Jeremiah.
According to Candace, Jeremiah ran the place like a well-oiled machine. Anyone who acted outside his rules was banned. Maybe there was also some fear because of Jeremiah’s past. He’d grown up learning how to survive while he worked for the Dixie Mafia. He’d been somewhat of an enforcer for a few years—as well as other things. People didn’t piss Jeremiah off. They left a wide berth around him for good reason.
Daly set those thoughts aside as she walked past the bar and started up a flight of stairs. Candace had given her the location of Jeremiah’s office. Within moments she was at a silver metal door. She punched in a set of numbers, crossed her toes that they worked, and sighed in relief when it opened. Daly quashed the warmth spreading through her at the knowledge that the code was her birthday. It was poignant, damn near breathtaking, and she had to steel her spine to push it away. Yes, it meant something, more than she cared to admit, but she couldn’t let it.
She pushed open the door, entered his office, and there he was, standing behind an enormous desk, his broad back to her as he looked out over the city that made him. Hot, unforgiving, and relentless, he was all the things this city had taught him to be. Her fingernails dug into her palm, and the small bite of pain kept her grounded.
She’d come here with a purpose. Admiring the breadth of his shoulders and the slimness of his hips wasn’t going to see that purpose achieved. Those shoulders tensed. Their gazes clashed in the reflection of the window. Her knees threatened to buckle as a slow, wicked smile crossed his face. She’d noticed the cameras as she’d walked through his club. Daly was aware he’d seen her coming. Toby had probably let him know she was in the club too. Still, she felt a sense of accomplishment.
He’d seen her coming, but only she knew her goal. Remember why you’re here.
Daly closed the door and turned back to the lock, punching in the same code. Satisfaction pierced her again as the locks engaged. For good measure, she turned the deadbolt on this side. Then she turned to face him, though he had yet to do the same.
His office was huge, the entire wall behind his desk nothing but windows that overlooked the twinkling lights of the city. Plush gray carpet, a single black leather couch along the left wall, and that huge black desk dominated the space. The wall beside the door she’d just entered was one-way glass looking out over the club below. On the wall to her right was a bank of floor-to-ceiling mirrors. Her eyebrows rose, and she had to deny the instinctive demand to know why the mirrors were there. Who had he taken up here? Who had he watched as he’d fucked them?
Not your concern, Daly.
Her gaze sought him once again. Standing there at the windows, he might as well be a king surveying all he owned. Her breath hitched as she stared at the desk again. What would she do if he laid her on the cool surface and tied her down, stroking her to madness before sinking deep inside her?
She might well lose her composure before she even made her play tonight. Get it together, Daly.
At least thirty feet separated them, so surely it was intent that hitched her breath and not a need more desperate than anything she’d never known. Her hands shook as she set down her purse and reached for the buttons on the front of her long trench coat. Jeremiah turned then, and his face was hard. She let her gaze travel all the way down his body, noticing the delicious bulge under his belt. Daly licked her lips and finally lifted her eyes to meet his.
His lip curled up. Too damn sexy. She stepped out of her heels and shrugged off the coat. She wore nothing underneath. The coat pooled at her feet and she reveled in the cold air that puckered her nipples. The heat from his eyes was so intense that the coolness of the diamond-studded chain attached to her nipple piercings had her shivering. So. Much. Heat.
It was his gaze traveling then, up and down her body, stopping at her bare pussy and then again on her pierced nipples. How she’d missed the foreplay of his gaze! Like fingers stroking along her flesh, his stare brought heat and chills. Her stomach flip-flopped as a single black eyebrow arched and he said two words.
“To. Me.”
She shook her head. “Tonight, I repay like for like, Jeremiah. You don’t get to order me around tonight.” Daly let her words sink in for a few seconds then said, “Get on the couch.”
He came around the desk so fast her head spun and she held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks.
“If you don’t comply, I’ll safe word.” It was a threat she’d never used. It had never had a place between them in the past.
She knew he’d respect it, even though she’d come here of her own volition. But tonight held a different purpose. She was determined to prove to herself she could rebound from what he’d done to her body. She had the control. Her stomach knotted and a quiver shook her. She’d safe word and get the hell out of Dodge if he didn’t do what she’d ordered.
She hoped she could be that strong.
“You remember the rules?” she taunted. He nodded, though he glared at her. “They apply to you tonight. A little role reversal, if you will. If you want this body, this mouth, and these hands, you’ll do as I said and sit on the damn couch.”
He cocked his head and sighed. “This won’t end well for either of us.”
“It’ll end how it ends. It’s the beginning I’m concerned with right now,” she responded lightly.
He struggled with himself. Daly watched it play over his face, and her entire body was held in thrall to the raw lust that rode
his frame. His muscles hardened and the veins in his arms and neck stood out prominently. He’d always been a big dude, heavily muscled, but he seemed even larger than he had three years ago—bigger and much more dominant that she’d ever imagined.
Her pussy contracted, remembering the feel of him taking her, owning her. Moisture pooled low. It was a helpless response she couldn’t control.
His nostrils flared. “I can smell your need.” His voice was guttural and her heart tugged in her chest, skipping a beat and then galloping faster.
“On the couch,” she demanded. Her voice was breathy, but it couldn’t be helped. She wasn’t a dominant by nature, and everything in her rebelled at having this big man at her mercy. She loved being the one under control. His control.
Those were dangerous thoughts, because they led her away from her goal of self-preservation and straight toward his arms. She wouldn’t lose herself in Jeremiah again. Her heart couldn’t afford the cost. Her eyes watered and he took a single step toward her. She leaned down and reached for her coat. He stopped and cursed. Slowly, as if every muscle in his body protested, he moved to the couch and sat down.
“Hands on the back of the couch,” she managed to garble from her closing throat.
“To. Me,” he ground out.
She gave him that one thing because she couldn’t stand to be separated from him another second. Daly didn’t question the impulse—suddenly it was as it had always been between them. Her intent in coming here tonight became lost in what they’d been to each other … Dom and submissive, a relationship unique and special.
She took a deep breath and grabbed at her unraveling control. She’d started out tonight with one intent—to prove to herself and Jeremiah that she could resist the call of his dominance. It had become a play of wills. Who would ultimately gain control? This had evolved into something much deeper. It was now about righting past wrongs, admitting what she’d denied to herself these past years.
But damn if she wouldn’t enjoy this temporary control over him while she had it. She came to stand before him and bent to her knees. She tapped his legs and he spread them. His acquiescence settled her.