Barely Undercover: Legal Heat, Book 2

by Sarah Castille

  “So I’m screwed.”

  “You could pull out.”

  James shook his head. “I can’t quit before the raid, otherwise two years of my life was for nothing. Problem is, I’ve given them at least four good raid opportunities and each time something went wrong. I’m running out of time.”

  A frown creased Tony’s brow. “Something else is definitely going on. They aren’t that incompetent. They have two years of wiretap evidence—more than enough to get the convictions they need. The raid would just be the icing on the cake. They should’ve pulled you out a long time ago.”

  “I can’t just walk away,” James said. “Hades is totally corrupt. Drugs, weapons, executions… You name it, Rex is involved. A lot of lives would be saved if they go down.”

  Tony pressed his lips together. “Can you give me a few days? I have a few friends in high places. I might be able to find something out.”

  James gave him a puzzled look. What friends in high places? How could he possibly gain clearance for the information even James couldn’t get? He threw out a little bait. “Very few people have access to that information.”

  “Not a problem,” Tony assured him. “Leave it with me.”

  James hesitated and then pushed himself out of his chair. He didn’t have much time and if Tony thought he could help, who was he to question him? “Thanks. And…I’m sorry about…earlier.” He waved vaguely at the mess on the floor.

  Tony held up a hand and grinned. “Nothing more than I expected. You’d be surprised how many times my desk has been swept clean.”

  Halfway across the room, James stopped and turned. “If something happens to me…”

  “Nothing will.” Tony’s smile faded. “But if it makes you feel better, you can rest assured I’ll look after her.”

  “So, what do you want to do while you’re waiting for James?” Trixie settled herself on Katy’s vacant seat and waved goodbye to Katy and Mark as they left the club. “I would offer you a tour but you’ve been here twice already.” She winked and Lana’s cheeks heated. Her two illicit visits to the club clearly hadn’t been forgotten.

  Biting her lip, she pointed to the ornate wooden doors leading to the private members’ area at the back of Carpe Noctem. “I’ve never been in there. Maybe I could…”

  Trixie smiled and cut her off. “You have a dark side after all. Master Tony won’t mind if you have a little peek. Actually, he even suggested it.”

  Moments later they were standing on a balcony overlooking a softly lit, circular, sunken room. Twice the size of the club proper the members-only area looked more like a private fitness club than Sex Central. Polished hardwood floors gleamed under the bright lights overhead. Thick area rugs in red and beige complemented the soft leather furniture and warm wooden tables in the seating areas. Except for the terrifying equipment scattered around the perimeter, it was almost inviting.

  Sensing Lana’s trepidation, Trixie immediately launched into an explanation of the various pieces of equipment: slings, sawhorses, benches, a St. Andrew’s cross…The list went on and on. But before Lana could ask any questions, Trixie was called away, assuring Lana as she left that there would be no problem if she wanted to stay and watch the couples scening.

  Sweat trickled down Lana’s back as she gazed out over the floor. She’d heard about places like this, but had never realized all her secret fantasies could be lived out in one room.

  In one corner, a woman knelt on all fours on a padded bench, her arms and legs secured with cuffs. A man wearing black leather pants and a leather vest selected a wide paddle from a rack on the wall and then spanked her, gently at first and then with increasingly firm strokes. Lana’s blood heated. Although the woman’s body shuddered with each blow, her eyes were half-closed with desire. The man said something and she looked back over her shoulder and laughed.

  Lana’s tension eased. She’d heard more laughter than screams since she stepped through the door. Maybe BDSM wasn’t all about power or pain. Maybe it was about having fun too.

  She closed her eyes and imagined herself in the woman’s place. Hands and feet restrained. Ass in the air. The swish of the paddle before it made contact with flesh. And behind her, James. It had to be James. She couldn’t imagine anyone else with the force of will to even get her down the stairs.

  “You like the idea of being restrained on the bench,” he whispered in her ear. A statement, not a question.

  Lana startled at his sudden presence behind her and then blushed, embarrassed at her obvious reaction. “Where did you come from?”

  “Hell. But now I’m back. I didn’t expect to see you in here.”

  She gripped the railing in front of her. “I was…curious. Trixie said Master Tony wouldn’t mind if I watch for a few minutes as long as I don’t go down onto the floor.”

  “First time for everything,” James muttered under his breath. “He’s causing all sorts of trouble today.”

  Lana gave him a sideways glance. “So…you play here?”

  “Sometimes.”

  Her heart stuttered in her chest. “With someone…special?”

  He peeled her fingers off the railing one by one and brought her hand to his lips. “No.”

  “Why not?” Her already heated body flamed as he kissed his way down her arm to the sensitive crease of her elbow.

  “I never met anyone I wanted to bring here.” His lips travelled higher, over the strap of her sleeveless dress to nip the sensitive tendon between her neck and shoulder. A soft, breathy moan escaped her lips.

  “Not even Christine?”

  He hesitated for the briefest second, and then stepped closer, his fingers curving over her left hip, his lips brushing over her ear. “No, babe. Wasn’t her thing.”

  She bit her lip, unexpectedly shy and embarrassed in front of the man who had stripped her naked on her desk only a few hours ago. “Were you…going to bring me in here?”

  His hand slid over her hip to squeeze her ass while with the other he pulled her against him. Highly aroused, partly entranced, she was only vaguely aware of the fact they were on a balcony and clearly visible to everyone below.

  “I hadn’t decided, but I should’ve guessed you would find your way here. You have a nose for trouble.”

  Lana trailed her fingers down his arm, admiring the corded muscle, imagining how it would flex if he held a paddle in his hand. Or a flogger. Oh God.

  “James? Would you…” Her words caught in her throat as he smoothed his hand down her spine, making her arch toward him and sending a ripple of pleasure through her body.

  “Anything.” His hands were everywhere now, as if the room had somehow inflamed his desire. He caressed her back, gently at first, and then he kneaded his way down to her ass with firmer strokes. A groan escaped her when he buried his lips in the sensitive juncture of her neck and shoulder, his breath hot and heavy on her skin. Their hips melded together and she could feel his erection hard against her stomach.

  “I’m not into the lifestyle but I enjoy playing with the right person,” he murmured against her heated skin.

  A thrill of fear jolted her body and a low moan escaped her lips.

  “That excites you.” His voice dropped to a low, husky growl.

  “I…don’t know. It’s only something I’ve read about. Imagined.” She looked up at him and her brow creased. “Maybe I like it in theory but not in practice.”

  James laughed and kissed away her frown. “You won’t know until you try. Other than the bench, what else interests you?”

  Her insides turned liquid, but her answer came without hesitation. “That…post.”

  A shiver ran down her spine as she pointed to a tall polished wooden pole with black leather cuffs hanging from a chain clipped to an eyebolt at the top—so similar to the pole that Fang, the Wolverine leader, had chained her to after one of her more daring escape attempts. And yet, when she thought of James restraining her on the post, it wasn’t fear that made her shiver, but something else.r />
  Therapy, Jackie would say.

  “Do you want to try it?” he asked quietly.

  Her mouth went dry and she had barely squeaked out a “yes” before he was leading her down the stairs.

  By the time they reached the post, she was trembling so hard she almost welcomed the support of the cuffs as James buckled them to her wrists. Grabbing the loose end of the chain, he pulled her hands up over her head, leaving her enough slack to just touch the ground with the balls of her feet.

  “That will definitely keep you out of trouble.” The warmth in his eyes and his wicked smile drew some of Lana’s tension away.

  “If that’s what you think, then you don’t know me very well.” She forced a grin. “I could cause trouble even if you tied my feet too.”

  He cupped her jaw with his warm palm and brushed his lips over her cheek. “Maybe we’ll try that next.”

  A couple stopped in front of them. The man dressed in leather pants and a vest gave her a wink; the woman wearing a green and gold corset dress smiled. They twined their arms around each other as if settling in to watch the show.

  Lana’s stomach twisted in a knot and she squeezed her eyes shut. Waves of nausea roiled in her stomach. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Letting James restrain her when they were alone together was one thing. But this public display, so like what she had endured at the Wolverine clubhouse…

  Memories rose like bile in her throat. Hands touching, punching, pinching, squeezing, slapping, stroking. Restrained, alone, there was nothing she could do to stop them. Levi’s cold laughter. Fang’s angry growls. They kept her for the entertainment value as much as for doing the clubhouse chores.

  Her lungs constricted, her body prickled with heat and her pulse raced. She tried to open her eyes but icy black claws threaded through her vision. She heard a whimper and realized it was her own.

  “Look at me.”

  Her head jerked up at James’s sharp command, and she fought back the blackness to look into his steel-blue eyes, calm and safe. And then he said the words that sent the memories away.

  “Do you remember your safe word from when we played together that one time before?”

  “Thrash,” she whispered.

  “Works the same here. Say the word and we stop. In the end, you control this, babe. Nothing happens that you don’t want. Just keep your eyes on me and breathe slow and deep.” He trailed his finger along her jaw and down her throat. Lana took a few deep breaths and the darkness began to recede.

  I control this. I can make it stop.

  “Better now?” He inched his finger down to the swell of her breasts and lightly caressed her heated skin. Fire replaced the ice in her veins, burning a trail down to her core.

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  James looked over his shoulder and jerked his head at the couple. The man nodded and they walked away. Lana breathed out a sigh and she managed a half smile.

  “Ready to play?” he murmured.

  Emboldened by the power she’d never had with Levi, she answered quickly, “Yes.”

  He slid his hand into the low V of her dress and gently palmed her breast, stroking the soft swell with his thumb. “Your body likes being restrained. I can see it in the flush of your cheeks and I can feel it here.” He ran his thumb over her nipple, already painfully hard.

  Lana struggled against the restraints as his touch unleashed a firestorm of desire through her veins.

  “Be still.” His sharp tone locked her in place.

  Bracing himself with one arm on the post, he leaned closer and pushed down her clothing, releasing her breasts from their restraint. When his lips found her nipple, a zing of sensation flashed straight to Lana’s clit and her hands yanked against the chains.

  “Oh God.”

  James chuckled. “No, babe. Just me.”

  With calm deliberation, he tormented first one nipple and then the other until her breasts swelled, the nipples tight and throbbing. Pressure built inside her, a deep aching need, and she moaned and writhed, straining against the chains, arching her body toward him, desperate for more.

  “You have the most amazing breasts,” he murmured as he pulled away.

  Lana groaned when he covered her up. “Apparently not amazing enough.”

  James smoothed his hand down her stomach, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. He rested his palm over her mound, his fingers barely brushing over where fingers should do more than brush.

  Panting, she stared up at him, willing him to touch, to take, to rip off her panties and plunge his fingers inside her aching center.

  Instead, he kissed her. His lips crushed hers, claiming her with a passionate intensity that took her breath away. His tongue dove into her mouth, possessive and demanding, and he deepened the kiss until her bones turned liquid and she sagged against the restraints.

  “You’re doing well, babe.” The raw sensuality in his voice almost made her come right then. With a light stroking tease of his hand, he reached under her dress, parted her legs and pressed his palm, warm and firm, against the curve of her sex.

  Lana’s head snapped back at the delicious heat of his hand over her barely there G-string panties, and a thin whine escaped her lips.

  “Keep going, should I?” He gave her a wicked smile and shoved her panties aside, then slicked his finger along her wet folds. Fire swept through her body, incinerating everything in its path.

  “Are you still afraid?” With one finger he stroked up and around her clit, then down through her wetness, and up again, barely brushing over the throbbing bundle of nerves begging for attention.

  “I’m afraid you’ll stop,” she panted.

  His lips curled into a sensual smile. “I can go all night. Or I can stop and leave you hanging. Or I can make you come in front of everyone here. I can make you scream your pleasure, and you can’t do anything about it.”

  Moisture flooded her sex at his carnal words. She strained against the cuffs, and her inability to move, her vulnerability, started a shaking deep inside her. Did she truly trust him to keep her safe?

  A disturbance at the door drew her attention away from his steady gaze. A verbal altercation. Shouting. Yelling. A crease formed between her brows. The voices were familiar.

  Seconds later, an angry Rex pushed his way into the room, Angel by his side. Two bouncers grabbed them and hauled them back. Even as her face heated in embarrassment, Lana’s heart sank. They were back together. Angel wouldn’t need her anymore.

  James shifted his position, hiding her from Rex. “That’s my fault,” he muttered. “I should never have organized a meeting here. Rex liked it so much he pestered Tony for a membership. Tony only gave in because he figured the club’s surveillance system might catch something that would help put Rex behind bars faster.” He stroked a finger over her cheek. “Don’t worry. He won’t get down here. You’re safe.”

  The door slammed open again and Lana heard the rough growl of Rex’s voice and the high-pitched rasp of Angel’s tirade of verbal abuse.

  And then she heard another voice. A cold, cruel, sharp snarl that cut her to the core. She sucked in a sharp breath and her body tensed, as it had been conditioned to do.

  No.

  “We have an important guest,” Rex shouted. “I want to show him around.”

  The other voice again. A man. Louder now. More insistent. Angry. Her lungs seized. Terror spread icy tendrils through her veins. She knew that voice. She heard it in her nightmares. She heard it on street corners and in restaurants, in coffee shops and bars. And always her heart would pound and her eyes would widen, and she would fight the urge to run.

  Run. She needed to run.

  Lana yanked on the cuffs but they held fast. Body trembling, heart hammering, pulse racing, she forced her words through a rapidly tightening throat. “Let me go, James. Let me go.”

  James’s eyes widened and his face creased with concern. “What’s wrong?”

  “Thrash,” she screamed as a sco
rching tide of terror crashed through her body. Her eyes fixed on the partially open door, her ears attuned to only one voice. His voice.

  “Thrash,” she screamed again. And then she just screamed the word over and over because, although James moved fast, he wasn’t fast enough. And the door was opening; a hand was creeping around the corner. A big hand. With a big ring. The head of a Wolverine.

  And then she was free.

  Arms banded around her. Strong. Safe. But there was no safe. Not from Levi.

  Tears burned her eyes as she remembered the thud of fists on her body, the burn of ropes whipping across her skin, the sting of a palm hitting flesh, the utter helplessness of having nowhere to go and no one to help her. A sob rose in her throat. She pushed James away and ran toward the welcoming red neon sign marking the emergency exit.

  “Lana.”

  She hit the door running. An alarm went off but she didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. She ran and she ran and she ran. Then she threw up and ran some more.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Jackie. Open the fucking door. I know she’s in there.”

  James pounded on Jackie’s apartment door, determined to break it down if it didn’t open in the next thirty seconds.

  “Quiet down,” she shouted. “You’ll wake my neighbors. I waited a year to get this place. I’m not about to be kicked out because you can’t wait long enough for me to undo the lock. And don’t even think of breaking down the door.”

  Finally, the door opened and a furious Jackie glared at James. “Like I told you earlier when you called, she’s not here. But feel free to come in and stomp around and check for yourself.” She stepped to the side and James stormed into her tiny apartment.

  “What happened here?” He looked around at the piles of clothes, pizza boxes, disguises and half-open suitcases.

  “Nothing happened. I live like this,” Jackie huffed. “I’m not a clean freak like Lana. I like things to be relaxed.”

  James gritted his teeth. “I could search through this place for a week and never find her.”