Lace Underground: The Complete Trilogy

by Oliver, Tess

  Clark looks across the desk at me with a grim set mouth. "What if your presence alerts him that something isn't right with one of his girls? You could do more harm than good."

  I stand up angrily and the chair rolls back a few feet. "And what if she's fucking stuck in there? He might be protective of his commodities," I say the last word through gritted teeth. I've been working hard to not think about what goes on in the club and what part Ten is playing in the whole damn thing but it's getting harder to ignore. "We don't know if those women are being held there against their will. Maybe Ten hasn't figured a way out. She's been there for nearly six weeks. I need to infiltrate the club and find out what the fuck is going on. Like I said before, I'll go in there with or without your support."

  "Yeah, you fucking told me that. Fine. I won't pull the plug. There's a good chance you won't even find a way in. They'll probably take one look at you and say 'nope can't trust this yahoo'. Now get out of my office. I've got some calls to make."

  "Thanks. I won't let you down."

  "Hmm, let me think, where have I heard those words before?" he mutters as I walk out of his office.

  7

  Angie

  Blake is skipping around the room like he just won the lottery. "I think those two bathing suits are all you'll need." He peers back over his shoulder at me from the dresser. "Besides, the boss prefers you not to be overdressed," he says wryly.

  "This is all so sudden." I'm sitting on the bed still trying to absorb the news. "So we are actually going above, on the surface, where sunlight and oxygen mingle together? And on top of that, we'll be on a boat? On the water? The real live ocean and not just some artificial body of water with pretend waves and added salt?"

  "Can't promise the ocean will be live, although there's plenty of slimy stuff beneath the waves that qualifies as live." Blake shivers in disgust before whipping a pile of panties out of the dresser. He grabs some bras too and carries them to the bed where a suitcase sits wide open, waiting to be filled with vacation necessities. He packs the underwear and reaches over to nudge me. "Hurry in and take a shower. They'll be driving us to the airport in thirty minutes."

  My thoughts dash around so fast in my head I can't focus on one. For the first time in nearly two months, I'll be free from the underground complex. Freedom? Freedom. If the opportunity presents itself, do I run? Or swim? A laugh shoots from my mouth. I quickly stifle it and head into the bathroom. I stop in front of the mirror, hoping I can see brave, adventurous, independent Angie in the reflection, but the thin, wide-eyed girl looking back at me doesn't look hopeful. For the first time in weeks I have a chance to free myself from this world, from Kane, the nectar. I stare at the face in the mirror and think hard about that possibility. The tears flow almost instantly. It's impossible. I've grown so dependent on all of it, on him. How on earth could I leave it? Is there even enough of the old me left to survive without the Lace Underground?

  The other women living here had lives of despair, rotten luck, terrible families. This place is their home. This place keeps them alive, and from what I've observed, happy. The nectar helps with that, of course. I left a good life behind. There was some absolute heartbreak and major disappointments along the way, but for the most part, Angie Tennyson was a successful, independent woman. But she disappeared somewhere along the way.

  Blake pokes his head into the bathroom. "Oh my gosh, can you move any slower, you turtle?"

  I turn to look at him. "I'm scared shitless about going above, Blake. I feel like I won't even know how to act in public. What's happened to me?"

  Blake shuffles on his sandals into the bathroom. "It's just a little paranoia brought on because you need your nectar."

  "Shit, just how many fucking side effects does that stuff leave behind?"

  Blake puts his hands on his hips and arches his brow at me. "Not sure but I think we can add grumpiness to the list."

  "Sorry, I'm just excited and nervous." I show him my shaky hand and quickly remember that trembling is also a side effect.

  He grabs my hand to steady it. "Get in the shower. I'll get you an extra big dose. Looks like you're going to need it."

  I stand inside the steam-filled shower and let the hot water run down my face and back. It's only been a day since I last saw Kane, yet my entire body aches for him. That thought circles and squeezes me like a noose. How can I leave the man or run from him or for that matter turn in evidence against him when I can't stop thinking about him? I'm his willing prisoner. The truth is, I'm in a slight state of panic when the leather cuffs and anklets are sitting unlaced in a pile on the vanity. I feel more secure when I am wearing them. They remind me that I'm his eager captive, the woman who paces the bedroom floor to pass the minutes between his visits.

  Blake knocks on the glass door. He's holding a towel open to hurry me along. He's far more anxious than me to go above. It makes me smile to see him so excited. I quickly finish my shower and step into the towel.

  Blake pats me dry. "Have a seat at the vanity, darlin'. We'll get you all dolled up." He leans back and looks at me. "Those protein smoothies have helped but you're still too thin. Maybe I'll have the chef double their size."

  "Yes and then I can blow up like that blueberry girl in the Willy Wonka movie."

  Blake laughs and heads over to the medicine panel. "And the Oompas can roll you down to the juicing room. What on earth made you think of Willy Wonka?"

  "Someone once told me getting into the Lace Underground is like winning a golden ticket."

  Blake turns around with the syringe. The amber liquid almost fills the vial. "Well then, darlin', here's your candy fix for the day."

  8

  Angie

  My brief notion that this would be a normal vacation quickly evaporates when I am blindfolded for the drive to the airport. The nectar has pushed me into that blissful haze that makes the blindfold more fun than worry. My hands rub over the soft leather seating in what feels like the back of a large car, a limousine possibly. The last thing I saw before Blake tied on my blindfold was a dark corridor leading to what I concluded was a garage due to the fumes of exhaust and sound of running engines behind it.

  The car door opens and shuts. Instantly, I'm comforted by the scent of Kane's soap. He taps on a window. "Let's move. The plane is waiting." His voice circles around me. The deep, rich sound makes my pulse race.

  I can feel the weight of him on the seat next to me but make no attempt to reach for him. He makes the first move. Always. I've grown to expect and love it. The wait only increases my state of arousal.

  "Yes, change the interviews for new members to same time next week. We'll be back by then." His business-like tone and the one sided conversation let me know he's on the phone. "Call if you need me." The call ends.

  I hear the movement of a small motor or gears like the panel for the medicine or music in my room. A popping sound and the clink of glasses is followed by the sweet scent of champagne. More nectar. Blake gave me extra to calm my nerves. If I relax any more, I might just slip off the seat into a puddle.

  I flinch slightly when a glass touches my lips. "Drink," he says.

  I take a sip and rest my head back. My drugged state, the movement of the car and his nearness make me dizzy. He lifts the glass to my lips again.

  I shake my head. "I'm so high right now, if you open a window, I'll float out."

  "Blake shouldn't increase the dose without asking me." There's a hard edge to his voice.

  Instantly I come to my friend's defense. "No, it's my fault. I asked him to do it. I was so nervous about the trip, about going out in public," I let the last words trail off realizing how pathetic and weak I sound. I fucking need to pull Angie back. I need her. I'm becoming as fragile as a porcelain doll. One bad fall and I'll break into a million pieces.

  "You shouldn't be nervous. You'll spend most of the time in my cabin on the yacht."

  My throat tightens. I'd already talked myself into gobs of fresh air and sunshine. "So I won't be
allowed out?"

  "I didn't say that." He doesn't sound certain. "We'll see."

  A chilling realization washes over me. Kane has not allowed me to talk to any other men since the first time he allowed me to go to the party and then quickly sent me back to the room. That night, he was filled with rage when he came to my room. In the heat of passion, he made me swear that I belonged to him. I'd pushed the unsettling night out of my mind until now. Purposefully, it seemed.

  I hear a glass clink onto a tray. The gears run again, taking the drinks away. I sit quietly with hands in my lap, my right hand fidgeting with the leather cuff on my left wrist.

  "Does it bother you?" his question startles me. It seems the extra nectar has taken me past serene. I'm more edgy than normal. The earlier dark memory was new too.

  "No, it's fine. Won't people notice?" I ask, lifting my hand.

  "Doesn't matter. This is mostly for business. You're on this trip for one reason, to keep me from going mad without you." The edge of anger in his tone seems directed at me just as much as it is directed at himself.

  "You should have just left me behind." It's the first time I've spoken sharply to him. I brace for his harsh response.

  He laughs dryly. "Yes, that idea occurred to me more than once. Easier said than done. I told you, you are my weakness, my poison, my addiction."

  I don't hear him move and startle when his finger loops through one ring and then the other. My arms are lifted above my head. He spins me around and tugs me back so I'm stretched out on the seat. My hands are quickly fastened. It seems even his cars are equipped with the necessary evils to satisfy his needs. The extra nectar makes me angrier, more cynical. But the frantic need to be fucked is still there. Stronger than ever.

  I feel my panties slipping away. My dress is pushed up high around my waist. I cry out as his mouth presses against my hot pussy. His hands grab my ass, his thick finger impaling me from behind as he lifts me higher and harder against his hungry mouth. His teeth graze my throbbing clit, nearly launching me off the seat. He teases me again with his teeth before pushing his tongue into me. I break into a million shuddering pieces as I come against his mouth. The pulsating waves are still rolling through me as his body covers mine and he jams his cock into me. The orgasm reignites. My pussy clenches around him, gripping him inside of me.

  I move my hands and am instantly reminded that they are tied above my head. I want nothing more than to wrap my arms around him and hold him like I did when we were at the pool, but the other Kane is back today. There was a glimmer of human compassion in the man who made love to me on the pool chaise. He's gone again. Maybe I only imagined him.

  Kane growls and stiffens against me as he comes. He collapses for a few seconds on top of me, warm and fragrant with the sweat of sex. I wait for him to release me, hoping for a quick cuddle before it's all over. But he climbs off of me first. He is kind enough to slip my panties back on. I hear his pants zip.

  Finally my hands are free again. I can hear him sit on another seat, one across from me. We spend the rest of the trip in silence. I don't know if it's my state of mind or his, but something about the sex seemed cold and distant. It doesn't leave me with that usual helpless heart tug that lets me know I can never walk away from him. Something about this time is different. I am not just his weakness, his Achilles' heel. I am his poison.

  9

  Kane

  She was a mistake. She is a mistake. But sometimes there is no going back, no fixing it. When I'm not with her, I think about her like she's a song playing through my head again and again. And there's no way to turn it off. I don't want to turn it off.

  When I made the arrangements with the realtor to check out the remote islands off the coastline, I decided firmly to leave her behind. But the more I thought about being thousands of miles away from her, unable to touch her skin, smell the fragrance of her hair, hear the soft moans of ecstasy on her lips, I knew I had to take her along.

  I rest against the cushioned bench at the stern of the yacht and watch as she walks along the starboard side, lifting her face every few seconds to the sunlight and taking deep breaths of the warm salt air. The underground complex is secure and private and has every luxury except the obvious . . . sunlight.

  Her naturally golden skin has faded to pale ivory in the past two months. Christ, has it only been two months? I can hardly remember my existence before her. I just know it was easier, less worry. I was in control.

  She smiles brightly as she sashays toward me in the green bikini. Far too much coverage as far as I'm concerned, but we are near other pleasure boats in the marina. For now. The extra large dose of nectar has worn off. Her mood has lightened. I reprimanded Blake for it, making sure he understood it wasn't like cream in coffee, a substance to adjust to your liking or taste. I have no doubt he got the message. It will never happen again.

  "So this boat is all yours?" She picks up a glass of wine as she sits down next to me.

  "Yes, all mine. Do you like it?"

  "Don't think there's a person on earth who doesn't love a gleaming white yacht on a bright blue sea." She lifts her sunglasses and squints toward shore. The hills bordering the beach are deep green and lush with tropical plants. Several posh resorts dot the shoreline, breaking up the view of nature. "Where are we?"

  "The Caribbean but we aren't staying long. I'm meeting a realtor who specializes in personal islands."

  "Wow, personal islands, life's been good to you."

  "If there is one sentence that can never be used to describe my life, it's that one," I say before I can stop myself. It's like that with her. I feel like I could just lie in her arms and tell her everything and she'd listen. That part distresses me the most. After all the years of being a loner and finding it suits me just fine, I found the one person who makes me hate my solitary existence. My obsession only grows stronger and gets more dangerous each time I'm with her. She is a mistake. I've let my guard down. I have no idea how to put it back up.

  She stands up, turns around and kneels on the bench to look back over the stern. "So many rich people in expensive boats. Where did Blake and the guys go? Will we go ashore at all?"

  As her flurry of questions rains down on me, I take advantage of her inviting position. I put down my glass and move to stand behind her. My cock presses urgently against her bottom. She squirms flirtatiously against it.

  "We're surrounded by other people," she protests as my hand smoothes over her belly and down between her legs. Even so, she is pressing her ass hard against me, inviting more.

  "No one can see below the railing." I yank the bottom of her bikini down. It puddles at her ankles. I groan as my fingers discover the silky cream of her wet pussy. I use the liquid to lube her ass. She cries out as I impale her from behind, but I cut it short by pressing my hand over her mouth. I lower my mouth to her ear. "Shh, Sweet Sin, your cries of pleasure are strictly for me. I won't share that with anyone. Do you understand?"

  She nods her head. A low moan rolls up her throat as I pull my hand away. Her knuckles are white as she grips the railing and pushes against me.

  I grit my jaw at the exquisite pleasure of fucking her ass. It will take me only seconds to come, but I won't allow it until she reaches orgasm. In the distance, Blake and my two bodyguards, Jason and Oscar, are walking back toward us along the dock. She gasps and stiffens in my grasp.

  "Finish this, baby," I growl in her ear. "Finish before they reach the yacht."

  My fingers plunge into her pussy. She grips my hand with her thighs, rubbing her clit against the side of my thumb, frantically working to reach orgasm.

  "You're not concentrating," I whisper in her ear. "There are no boats or people. Just you and me. That's how it will always be. Just you and me. They are getting closer," I warn.

  A tiny whimper falls from her lips. I push three fingers into her. She grips me with her pussy, rocking against the pressure of my hand. A breath catches in her throat stifling the scream as her pussy shudders around m
y hand. Her entire body is wound tight with tension, holding in the shattering pulses of the orgasm, working hard to hide her ecstasy. The erotic energy she's holding in transfers to me. I press my mouth against her shoulder, biting her lightly to stifle my own groan of pleasure as I come.

  Blake and the others are busy talking and sipping their drinks, hardly noticing us at the stern. I withdraw.

  She quickly pulls up her suit. "I'm going down below," she says shakily. I follow her and reach for her as she steps into the bedroom. She pushes my hand away before collapsing into my arms. I carry her to the bed and lay her down, pressing a kiss against her forehead.

  "You see, my sweet, you bring out the best in me." I kiss her again. "And you bring out the worst."

  10

  Angie

  I wake up from a deep, dreamless sleep, my body covered in a sheen of sweat. It takes me a few minutes to figure out where I am. The walls of the bedroom are covered in polished teak paneling. The bed I’m curled up on has an ornate wrought iron headboard. No expenses were spared by the owner. And just where is the owner, I ask myself as I sit up in a groggy stupor. It seems the nectar’s ‘good’ effects, the serenity, the unexplained feeling of bliss and the mega dose of carnal lust, wear off quicker the longer I've been taking it. That falls into the same pattern as most addictive drugs, I remind myself. Addictive drugs are something I know a little about. The irony that I'm now one of the strung out junkies I spent my professional career trying to help is not lost on me. Blake has already increased my injections to three times a day just to ward off the headache and creepy crawlies. But I don’t want more. More injections will undoubtedly put me in a permanent, mindless haze.