by Honey Jans
"I'm not. From now on I'm putting you on a need to know basis, and you don't need to know."
All her steamy thoughts stopped as his blunt statement sank in. It was outrageous, and totally unfair; it was her case after all. “What?"
"You heard me. You can't let slip what you don't know."
Tamping down her justifiable anger, she tried for a more moderate tone. He was a ghost, used to working alone and outside normal channels. She'd have to bring him up to date on office protocol. “You might not understand how things work inside the department. It's standard procedure to fully brief team members at the start of any mission."
"Ah yes, but then I'm a dinosaur who doesn't work well with others,” he said with a devilish grin.
Her mouth compressed in a frown. What a jerk. When he started to tow her past her cubicle, she jerked her arm out of his grip, saying, “Let me get my purse."
He kept going, saying over his shoulder, “No time. Leave it; you won't need it."
She rolled her eyes and ran to catch up to him, as he breezed out of the building. Her bag would be fine in her desk, and she wasn't about to let him get away. It was a typical case of a man trying to make up for his shortcomings by being a bully. Although from what she'd felt when his hard body was pressed against her, Condor didn't have anything to worry about there. “Won't you at least tell me where we're going?” she asked, exasperated.
"We're airborne in an hour, which gives us half an hour to pick you up some gear."
Like what? She watched him pull out his cell phone. They had access to the tops in technology plus a fully stocked arsenal right here. It might be unsanctioned, maybe even illegal, if they had to go somewhere else to get them.
Condor punched a number on speed dial. “Hi, Cecilia, I need two bundles, the usual. Yeah put in the usual toys and,” he looked at Bridget, “add something special, stars I think."
Chinese throwing stars, maybe. Bridget stood there, silently trying to listen in. He seemed to be asking for something special for her. Foolishly, she couldn't help but feel flattered. This is just another mission for him, girl. You're both playing a part; the sooner you get the stars out of your eyes, the better. Even as she thought it, she couldn't stop the tremulous feeling she got when she stared at the slave bracelet on her wrist. It was gold and intricately worked.
Condor pocketed his phone and stepped over to a Harley. She watched his every move as he tucked the Perez file into a saddlebag. Need to know basis indeed. The minute his back was turned, she'd read it and commit it to memory.
He tossed a helmet at her. “Put this on, if you're going."
Bridget caught it, hoping he hadn't noticed the direction of her stare. Her mouth went dry as she watched him mount the bike, all fluid, masculine power. What would it feel like to have him over her, in her? To her shame, playing his woman wouldn't be that big of a stretch for her, but it was going to be tricky mounting that motorcycle wearing a skirt. No matter, she wasn't going to let Jennifer Harrison take her place. She put on the helmet and climbed aboard, her skirt riding up high on her thighs. She wrapped her arms around his firm middle.
Plastered to him as he revved up and took off, she held on for the ride of her life, wondering where her well-ordered career plans had gone wrong. Condor steered them through rush-hour traffic, his moves quick and precise. Her breasts rubbed against him; her hard nipples tingling. Her sex pressed against the vibrating seat and she gasped at the unexpected stimulation.
He chuckled. “It's one of the perks of riding with a biker. Relax and enjoy it, Kitten."
Hissing as they went over yet another bump, she did just that. Her hands drifted down, making accidental contact with his bulging crotch ... warm leather, over his hotter cock. His wicked chuckle washed over her, making her blush as she quickly jerked her hands away from his tantalizing package, but not before she noticed his rousing erection. The guy must go around semi-hard most of the time. Whatever was going on between them, it wasn't all play-acting. This mission would be harder than she thought.
They pulled up to a building called Dangerous Liaisons and she closed her eyes, letting out a mortified groan. It wasn't a secret arsenal; it was a high-end erotica shop, catering to a select clientele. “You have got to be kidding!"
He gave her a firm look over his shoulder. “One thing you'll find out, I never joke about my work, Sugar. Go fetch our bundle."
"You expect me to be your gofer?” she said, annoyed, not liking the junior roll at all.
"Who's the agent in charge here?"
"You are,” she grumbled, and tried to get off his bike. It wasn't easy and she soon had her legs tangled with his, and her skirt up to her ass.
Letting out a growl, Condor got off the bike, and Bridget let out a little smile. She hadn't deliberately tried to be clumsy, but she wasn't above taking advantage of the situation either. Now if he'd go get their gear, she could take a sneak peek at the file in his saddlebag. His hands instantly wrapped around her waist, making her gasp with shock, as he unceremoniously jerked her off the bike. She glared down at him from midair, dangling from his hands, before he firmly set her down on the sidewalk. Wrinkling her nose, she spat out, “Jerk."
"Go,” he said, pulling her into the cradle of his legs, to give her a sharp spank on the bottom.
Yelping, Bridget backed away, his handprint stinging her bottom, even through her skirt and panties. Heat rushed through her making her blush, as she met his laughing eyes.
He arched an imperious brow. “The choice is yours. Go, or do I get a new submissive partner?"
He'd do it too. Steaming mad, she turned, and headed into the store, flaming in outrage and confusion. The scariest part was the damned spank had felt like foreplay. She's had far worse taps in the gym and none of them had made her tingle with arousal. It wasn't a good sign. An overhead bell rang as she ventured inside the discreetly decorated and dimly lit erotica shop. She looked around the empty store noting that it wasn't all handcuffs and whips. In the front of the shop were gift items, party favors, wrapping paper, and gag gifts. She laughed, gazing at a rubber chicken lying limply on a display counter. Condor? Her would-be master wouldn't be amused if she came out with that.
Her eyes adjusting to the soft light, she took in the intriguing array of lingerie she came to next. Silks, satins, leather and lace, in a rainbow of colors. Crotchless panties and a cut out bra on a mannequin caught her attention. How would Condor react if she modeled them for him? Cut that, she didn't want to know.
Where the hell is Cecelia? She stalked through the shop noting that it catered to all fetishes. Massage oils and lubes in dozens of flavors, including cherry, her favorite. Paddles and whips, in all shapes and sizes. Condor's handprint on her ass seemed to heat up as she gazed at them. Not good. A row of vibrators in different sizes and colors caught her attention, and her damp sex quivered. Playing Condor's submissive without losing sight of her goals was going to call on all her training as an agent.
Time was wasting. A beautiful Asian woman, in an orchid-colored Chinese gown that clung to her slim figure, walked out of a back room, bead curtains parting for her. The woman bore down on her with a determined, businesslike, stride. As there was no one else present, this had to be the contact.
"May I help you?"
"I'm here to pick up a package for Longtree."
"Ah yes, Condor.” Her interested gaze flicked curiously over Bridget, lingering with interest on the slave bracelet. “I see,” she said with a frown.
Cecilia had sharp little eyes and a personal interest in Condor if her reserved tone was anything to go by. The bracelet suddenly felt heavy on Bridget's wrist, but she refused to be embarrassed, or try to hide it. This was apparently all part of Condor's job, and Cecelia had no doubt seen it all before. Wondering at their personal relationship, and mad at herself for doing so, she said dryly, “He's your best client, no doubt."
Cecelia smiled, not commenting. She turned toward the counter. “Follow me, slave girl."
Bridget bit her tongue, forcing back the hot denial on her lips. She had to get into the role, and there was no time like the present. Plus, she really didn't want to know about the competition. Oh crap, now she was thinking of him in those terms, stop it! He was a colleague and an annoying one at that. Her gaze fell on the jewelry in the case. Gulping, she noticed the nipple clamps, and stared at them in appalled fascination. Would they be part of the role she had to play? What might they feel like? Her nipples puckered inside her bra, beading tight. Most likely, they'd apprehend Perez and leave before she had the chance to find out.
In a showcase in behind the counter, she spotted a glint of gold. Stepping closer, she confirmed that they were slave bracelets and one bore a striking resemblance to the one Condor had put on her. It was slightly wider and bigger, obviously made for a man.
"It matches his,” Cecelia said, noting the direction of her stare.
His, which meant the slave bracelet she wore really was Condor's property, just like her, temporarily. But it wasn't real. This was all a game; she just had to keep that in mind. She'd walk through fire to apprehend Perez, even if it meant falling under the spell of the hunk who foolishly thought he had the goods to tame her. Feeling more claimed than she liked, she took the black leather attaché case Cecilia handed her, and headed back out to get her man.
Chapter 3
Condor walked back into the body of the Delta Star unmarked jet after conferring with the flight crew in the pilot's cabin. The private jet bore no government markings and had filed a false flight plan. The flight to the private island would be a lengthy one, giving him a chance to work with Bridget. It was going to be a long night.
Bridget stood by the counter, his backpack open, the Perez file open in her hands as she poured over it. Damn it all. It wasn't likely that she'd blow their cover by learning what it contained, but it was imperative that she learn to obey him in all details. Denying her access to the file had been a small test, one she'd failed miserably.
He'd known she was going to be trouble, and this confirmed it. He'd left it in plain sight to test her compliance and she'd defied him, as expected. The instant she sensed his presence, she looked up at him, blushing like a guilty kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. An instant later, her chin rose defiantly, as her emerald eyes darkened. Her pretty mouth kicked up in an unapologetic smile. His heart skipped a beat, while his cock stirred and throbbed to life. Damn, who is the master here?
"So the creep gets his rocks off at a private island compound called The Retreat,” she said softly, adding in a firmer tone, “I'm not a bit surprised."
Her instincts as an agent were sharp, he had to give her that, but he was keeping her in the dark for a reason. Unused to this kind of operation, she might do the wrong thing and risk her pretty neck. And given her personal connection to the case, and her need to avenge James Clayton, she wasn't thinking with her head. She'd want to take over, hell she threatened to take over him, and it couldn't be allowed. Not on his watch.
Bridget clutched the file, trying to gauge Condor's reaction. Looking at his firm, forbidding expression, she knew without a doubt that she'd crossed an invisible line in the sand. He'd ordered her not to peek, and she'd defied him; now she had to pay the price. But she wouldn't have to resort to subterfuge like this if he'd share the info like a normal agent. The troubled look in his eye told her to save her breath. She watched him warily, as he rolled up his sleeves.
"Kick off your shoes, take off your jacket and piece, and come here.” He pushed down a jump seat and sat down, patting his hard lap.
She gulped, appalled as she watched him push up his sleeve. He couldn't mean to actually take her over his knee like she was a disobedient child, but a look at his amused expression told her that he meant just that. The flight crew might overhear.
"No."
"You did agree to be trained. And I told you it would start immediately.” He arched a brow, saying softly, “You'll take it over my knee."
She stood frozen with shock, her pulse racing, her sex creaming at the smoothly voiced, sensual demand. If he'd grabbed her, and forced her to comply, it would have been so much easier, but that wasn't his game. He wanted her to come to him, to submit, and damn—part of her wanted to. If she balked, he'd replace her. With a sigh, she kicked off her pumps, her toes curling into the carpet as she noticed the masterful look in his eyes. Almost without thought, she took off her blazer, vividly reminded of her bold stripping in the director's office.
She knew her beaded nipples were visible inside her bra, and Condor's interested gaze only made her hotter, bolder. She removed her gun and holster, disarmed in more ways than one. It was just the two of them and she wanted him, bad. Screwing him would give her clarity; it was the only thought in her head. Frustrated she found herself moving forward slowly, as she said, “You don't have to do this, you know. I'm a quick study, I can fake it."
He smiled. “Every minute you delay is a demerit."
She rolled her eyes. “What are you, one of the nuns at grammar school?"
"And did they paddle my little hellcat?"
"No.” No one had ever dared paddle her. One look at his laughing eyes made her flush with heat.
Condor smiled and crooked a finger. “Come."
The demand was calmly voiced but there was steel behind it. She looked down at his lap and gulped, just the thought of stretching out across Condor's hard lap made her heart trip.
"Fine, train me, Dino,” she muttered, carefully draping herself over his lap while her face burned. He was semi-erect under her belly, confirming her thought that he walked around half-hard most of the time. Bridget gasped at the unexpectedly erotic sensation and arched away to break the disconcerting contact. Condor placed a hand on her ass, and gently pushed her back down, until she was plastered to him, feeling every hard inch of him.
"Uh uh, stay put."
He lifted up her skirt and she went still, mortified. Oh no, she was wearing her pink lace panties; fine lingerie was a weakness of hers. Who knew when she'd put them on this morning, she'd be draped over Condor's knee.
"You've so much to learn, Kitten,” he said softly, rubbing her bottom through her panties. “And there's not much time to teach you."
Bridget heated up under his touch; her sensitive pubes pressed against his hard lap; his even harder cock teasing her, as her sex grew wet with need. She held her breath in anticipation. How bad will it be? How hot will it make me? Instead, he kept caressing her through her panties. Nervous tears sprang to her eyes, but she blinked them away. He was undoing her barriers with a simple touch; it wasn't fair.
"Tell me, Kitten, why are you being punished?"
The amusement in his tone made her mad, even as his big hand caressing her bottom aroused her. “Because you're a dinosaur."
His chuckle was like warm honey.
"No, because you disobeyed me and snooped at the file,” he said, fingering the waistband of her panties. “Say it."
He'd probably left the damned file out on purpose to trap her and give him an excuse to do this. Sniffing back a tear of frustration, she said, “I disobeyed you, and I'm a snoop."
"And are you sorry?"
"Will it keep you from spanking me?"
"No."
"Then, no, I'm not at all sorry. Bring it on,” she muttered, refusing to be intimidated. She'd gathered valuable information and if it cost her a red ass, so be it. His wicked chuckle almost undid her a moment before his big hand smacked down. She bit back a cry of shock at the stinging heat, not wanting to alert the flight crew.
"Count the spanks for me, Kitten."
"No,” she gasped, incensed by the outrageous demand.
"We go to six, now count."
His big hand came down on her right cheek and she gasped as her stiff clit rubbed against his leg. “One."
"Very good,” he praised.
She actually melted at the praise, how sick was that? He spanked her left cheek. She bit back a
whimper. “Two."
"T-three,” she stammered when he smacked her another quick blow. Not three more—she'd either come or cry, either of which would be humiliating. She wanted to move, but couldn't.
The leather pants she was lying against were warm, and Condor was even hotter underneath them. She groaned as his erection grew, pressing tighter against her. Her sex pulsed, her clit grew stiff, her bottom burned. “Four.” His big hand landed again.
"Five.” She gasped as he caught her from the bottom, barely holding back a moan, as her clit bumped against his thigh.
Catching her breath, on the verge of coming, she waited for the last spank. Condor finally spanked her hard, and she cried, “Six!"
Stunned, she lay molded to him on the verge of orgasm, while he rubbed her hot bottom. She couldn't resist leaning into his soothing touch, even while her face burned with embarrassment. Draped across his lap, butt on fire, her sex pulsing emptily, she forced back tears of release. Condor was hot for her; his hard cock swelling, practically thumping against her leg. All she could do was feel the heat, feeling consumed by him. She'd never been spanked before in her life. He caressed her sore bottom through her panties.
She let out a little moan. His big hand rubbing her ass felt soothing, good. She arched her hips and her clit rubbed against his leather-clad leg. She whimpered aloud at the electric sensation. Her clit was stiff and sticking out; her sex, wet and pulsing. The spanking, appallingly, turned her on; her body all hot, melted. She vowed to keep it to herself, after all, he didn't have to know. As he rubbed lower, her legs fell apart a little in sensual abandon. His hand slipped between her legs, cupping her mound. She bit back a whimper as he held her needy sex in his big hand.
The eroticism of being turned over Condor's knee was deep and disturbing. Assertive as she was, that she could be broken by him was stunning. Her sex quivered, needing him to finish what he'd started. If he'd just touch her clit, she'd come like a banshee. Under her, Condor was hard, ready to satisfy her, his breathing rapid. All he had to do was make the first move.