by Linzi Basset
“Jordan.”
Jack’s deep voice halted her in her tracks. She shot him a glance that had the sharp edge of a knife.
“Yes, Jack,” she snapped.
“You seem to have a very short memory. I warned you, didn’t I?” His gaze dropped to her breasts that were flattened behind her arms.
Her eyes widened and swung to encounter the interested glances of Max and Joanne.
“You’re not serious?” Jordan immediately regretted the impulsiveness to fetch her clothes.
His eyebrows shot toward his hairline that gave him a rakish appearance. His eyes turned a shade darker—if that was even possible.
Jordan’s narrowed. The little devil on her shoulder prodded her to action. She’d deal with that little critter later, but she was irritated enough to give in to the desire to wipe the threatening smile off Jack’s face. She walked around the counter and dropped her arms as she neared him. Her hands folded under the heaviness of her breasts to lift them as she pushed against him. Sitting down on the barstool as he was, Jordan only had to go onto her toes. She caught his face between the fullness of the two globes and rubbed them back and forth.
Before Jack could do more than breathe in the seductiveness of her scent, she was running through the door again.
“Well, hell … now I know how to shut Jack up,” Max teased, watching an even sillier smile curve around his best friend’s lips.
Chapter Five
“Is that what you intend wearing to Devil’s Cove, tonight?”
Jordan started and glanced over her shoulder; she hadn’t heard the door open. His gaze moved insolently over her body. Every inch of her skin began to tingle in the wake of the onyx-colored glance that felt like a caress.
Jack leaned against the doorframe as he admired her beauty. She looked hot in a silver satin teddy, held up with thin spaghetti straps that gave her skin a shimmering appearance.
Jordan finished tying the loose knot in her hair and lowered her arms. She looked at his reflection in the mirror.
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? The theme at the club tonight is satin and lace.” She brushed her fingertips over the silkiness of the material that clung to her like she had been poured into it. “This fits me perfectly.”
“Not for me, it doesn’t.” He tossed a dark green lace sheath dress at her, which she caught in surprise.
She held it up in front of her and peered at him through the intricate, yet large lace pattern.
“There seems to be something missing,” she lilted.
“Yeah, your body. Hurry up, my pet. I don’t want to be late for the meeting with the Senior Masters.”
Jordan lowered the dress and looked at him with obvious exasperation.
“This thing isn’t by any stretch of the imagination a dress or even a nightie. For goodness sake, Jack, I can see right through it! I might as well go naked!”
“Suits me.”
Jack walked closer and reached for the dress. Jordan yanked it back and pressed it against her chest. She did her best not to glare at him but failed miserably.
“No! I like what I’m wearing. I bought it specifically for tonight.” Her lips pursed into a sulky pout.
It didn’t faze Jack who looked her up and down once more. “And it looks beautiful on you.” He turned and sauntered back to the door. “Make up your mind, Jordan. “You’ve got three choices.”
“Three?” She perked up a little but quickly swallowed her glee when she recognized the evil gleam in his eyes as he turned to face her.
“You either wear that green dress, go naked or,” he shrugged, “you stay at home.”
“Those are three terrible choices,” she mumbled and lifted the dress to glower at it. The color was a perfect match for her eyes and would look gorgeous if worn with a tight satin sheath underneath. Maybe … she smiled at the thought.
“Don’t even think about it, Jordan. You won’t like the consequences.”
Jordan’s mouth fell open. “How did you—”
“Your face is an open book, my pet, unfortunately for you,” he said as he started to walk away. “Oh, and Jordan, no lingerie, please. Just the dress. I leave in five minutes. If you're not downstairs in four, you’re staying home.”
Jordan didn’t like the fact that Jack had the ability to read her thoughts so easily. Not one bit. Her sigh dragged out long and heavy.
“You’re such an … asshole!” she whispered crossly. It wouldn’t do to anger Jack just before they left for the Club. He was already acting like the formidable Dom he always was the moment he stepped through its doors.
She mumbled and complained to herself the entire time she changed. “Well, these silver pumps will have to do.” She twisted and turned in front of the mirror. Her cheeks were flooded with color as she realized that every inch of her body was visible. Her skin glowed against the backdrop of the large lace pattern that crisscrossed and stretched tight around her body. She chewed on her bottom lip, wondering if she should dare ignore his order and put on underwear.
“Oh lord, what have I gotten myself into?” she bemoaned her fate for the umpteenth time as she walked downstairs. She made it with two seconds to spare. She continued to tug at the top of the dress to try and alleviate the tight pressure over her ample breasts.
“I don’t like this dress,” she complained as she halted in front of Jack. She pointed angrily at her chest. “Just look at that. My nipples are trying to push through the lace!”
“Hmm, yes, I see. Let’s fix that, shall we?”
Jack’s voice sounded brusque but not from irritation. He was doing his best to curb the surge of lust that sizzled through his body. Watching her trot down the stairs in ridiculously tall silver pumps, with her body looking like brushed gold encased by emerald threads had stunned him and left him breathless. He brushed his palms over the tips of her breasts until they turned into hard little stones.
“What are you … no! Jack, no!”
Jordan frantically groped at his fingers but quickly lowered her hands when he shot a dark, warning look at her.
“There,” he said and took back a step. “Doesn’t that look cute?”
“Cute? This is what you define as cute?” Jordan’s voice sounded shrill to her own ears. She stared at her nipples that Jack had pulled through the holes in the lace. Only, he hadn’t stopped at that. No, the devil demon had forced her areolas through as well.
“I can’t walk around like this!” she wailed. “It feels like … like my breasts are tied with a string!”
“And your point is?”
Her shoulders sagged in defeat at his amused response and the dark look of enjoyment in his eyes. Realization dawned.
“This is why you wanted me to wear this dress, isn’t it? To punish my poor breasts?”
“Punish? Hardly, my pet. Stimulate, maybe.”
Jack’s voice was tinged with a tone of exiguous amusement. His grin was evil but also so endearing that Jordan’s stupid ovaries did somersaults of expectation, which caused a flood of heat to fill her pussy. She squeezed her thighs together, desperately trying to contain the lust she had no control over. She cleared her throat.
“Let me guess. This is partly punishment, right?”
“Partly?” One eyebrow shot up in a question mark.
“Ah, I get it. This is because I ran away when Max and Joanne arrived this morning.” The proverbial lightbulb popped on in her mind.
“I warned you of the repercussions of ignoring an order from me.”
“That was … how could you expect … I didn’t … dammit, Jack!” She stamped her foot in frustration as she was incapable of articulating her thoughts. “This is not fair.”
Jack’s gaze dropped to her jiggling breasts that bobbed up and down. He swallowed the saliva that filled his mouth. A freight train pounded through his chest as he found himself awestruck by her sensual beauty.
Fuck, she’s got gorgeous tits!
“But it’s highly entertainin
g, nevertheless.” The glimmer of excitement in his eyes caused Jordan’s heart to flutter until he went down on one knee in front of her. “Spread your legs.”
“What? Why? Oh!” she shrieked as he pushed her feet wide apart when she didn’t comply.
“Keep still, Jordan.”
Crack! Crack!
“Oww! Fucking hell!” Jordan gasped painfully from the two hard slaps on her inner thighs when she tried to lock her knees.
“Don’t make me repeat myself again,” Jack warned darkly.
He probed the opening of her slit with his fingertips, pleasantly surprised to find her hot and wet. Jack looked into her face when the hiss of her breath drew his gaze. An involuntary jerk shook Jordan’s body when he pushed two fingers inside.
“Hm, such an eager welcome,” he murmured. He noticed how her eyes darkened as he gently probed the satiny walls that clenched around his fingers.
“Ready, my pet?” he purred in a soft guttural tone.
“For wh-at?” she stammered. She reached out and clamped her fingers around his shoulders in a desperate attempt to remain standing. “Oh, jeezus!” she gasped as Jack pushed a large vibrating pear into her pussy.
His chuckle resounded deep and with a pleasant smoothness through her frazzled mind. Her nails dug into his skin as she did her best to adjust to the foreign feeling of the hard and fairly large object inside her channel.
“Just to make sure your naughty bits don’t feel neglected.” Jack straightened. He caressed her cheek with a feathery touch. “I don’t suppose I need to tell you what this means?” He watched her, waiting for a response as he pressed the control inside the pocket of his leathers.
“Fuck!” Jordan cursed under her breath and winced as the pear started to pulsate rapidly. “That I’m not allowed to come,” she trilled between clenched teeth as her loins spasmed uncomfortably when she brought her legs together.
Oh, fucking hell! This is going to be torture!
“How long are you gonna make me wear this … this cannonball!”
Jack burst out in a deep resonating laugh. “You are prone to exaggeration, aren’t you, love?”
“Says he who has no idea what it feels like to wear something like this inside your body!” she snapped acerbically.
“Oh, but I do know.”
Jordan shot him a disbelieving look. “Bullshit. How the devil can you know?”
“No Dom worth his name would expose a sub to something he didn’t know the effect of.”
“Are you telling me you wore one of these … in your …” Her eyes wide, she pointed at his ass.
Jack chuckled. “How do you think we know exactly what to do to extract the reactions we do, Jordan? Knowing the sensations and to what extent to push a sub … let’s just say, we learned by experiencing it firsthand.”
“And then perfected it on the poor subs,” she wailed as a surge of heat flooded her body when the vibrations of the pear-shaped egg changed.
Jordan’s stomach clenched and her pussy throbbed when he walked closer and pressed against her.
“Kiss me.” His voice was strong and assertive in a deep tone that demanded immediate acquiescence. His smile spread as he noticed her surprise. “Now, Jordan.”
The familiar dulcet-toned words of his Dom persona skidded inside and coerced her submissive side—which she still vehemently denied existed. It was easier to maintain she was playing a role. She canted her head and softly pressed her mouth against his lips. Their eyes met for a brief second before she closed hers and then gave him the kind of kiss she’d been craving for a long time. She surprised Jack with a hot and fiery demand for his reciprocation. The kiss stunned her as much as it did him. She moaned against his mouth as his arms surrounded her waist. She abruptly lost the ability to think straight as he stole her resolve and returned the kiss with an urgency of his own.
“Jordan,” he murmured soothingly as he felt her tremble.
Her skin sizzled as he expelled her name on a breath against her ear, enthralling her. She loved how he accentuated the syllables when he said her name, it had the effect of a loving caress on her soul. She sighed and gave herself over to his embrace.
It was what Jack was after. Her full and willing capitulation to him. He devoured her, elevating her to a level of euphoria that shattered her to the core.
With that one kiss, Jordan knew.
She would never be the same.
She was doomed.
And fucked.
Completely fucked.
“Hey Sean, good to see you, mate.” Jack’s greeting was jovial as he shook the younger man’s hand. “Taking a break from the spy game for a change?”
Sean Scott grimaced. He’d met the friends of his soon-to-be brother-in-law, Ethan Brodie, during a covert op in Saudi Arabia to find US-born women who had been victims of human trafficking. It was one of the ops he’d rather forget. The dehumanizing practices on sex slaves he’d witnessed during his time there had sickened him. It still haunted him in his sleep. On the plus side, he was glad that he could help Ethan get his son, Jaxon, back.
“Not really. I’m in DC under duress, but I suppose by now you know my sister well enough to realize when she demands it’s best not to say no.”
“Yeah, little Paige is quite the firecracker. Keeps our mate over here on his toes, that’s for sure.” Jack poked Ethan in the ribs.
“Only because I love sparring with her, mate. My gorgeous sub knows when to push and when to back off.” Ethan gestured to the Entertainment Room, which they were looking down into through the tinted window of Rhone’s office, situated on the mezzanine level of Club Devil’s Cove. “As you can see, she forgot that little lesson today.”
Paige was in the center of the room, perched naked on top of a round table, which in itself wasn’t an uncommon sight, except she was strapped to an Ecsta-Seat wand positioning cushion. Straddling the cushion as she was, she had nowhere to go, except ride out the climaxes the pulsating sex toy forced from her—with Ethan managing the remote control, of course.
Sean winced. “Not a position I’d like to see my sister in—especially naked.”
“You’ve been in the BDSM lifestyle for what, six years? You should know I would never push her further than she can endure,” Ethan assured him dolefully.
“That’s not it. We were brought up in a very conservative home. Seeing your sister naked was taboo. I guess it’s been too deeply ingrained for me to be comfortable with it.” Sean turned his back on the window when Paige cried out and her body jerked when she climaxed.
“You’ll have to get used to it if you’re going to become a regular visitor here, mate.” Max thumped Sean on his back by way of a greeting.
“I’ll just make sure I walk wide circles around Ethan and Paige in the dungeon,” he acceded with a grin and shook Max’s hand. He smiled at Keon and Lance who joined them at the window.
“It seems all our subs are in the doghouse tonight,” Keon said with a broad smile. Everyone followed his gaze to where his pregnant wife, Lauren was perched on the bar counter, dressed as a kitten, with her ass in the air. The glare she aimed in their direction spoke volumes. Samantha, Rhone’s sub, was serving drinks with the tray attached to her nipples by clamps and chains—a punishment all subs hated because of the tension it added to their breasts.
“It seems it’s only Joanne and Jack’s sub who behaved themselves,” Lance observed.
“Don’t let appearances fool you, mate. Look closer. Both are wearing pinched looks. Don’t know about Jo but Emerald is wearing a vibrating pear. And she’s not happy about it.” Jack chuckled as he watched her jump on the barstool, where he’d ordered her to wait for him, when he increased the speed with the remote in his pocket.
“Sometimes a subtle punishment is more effective, especially with someone as spirited as Jo,” Max agreed. “And I so love to make her wear the toys she hates the most.”
Sean looked at the men with a quirk to his lips. “I’ve learned quite a bit a
bout Americanisms since I immigrated and although mate is commonly used in Australia and the UK, in America, as far as I know, it refers to animals mating. Are you guys into that sort of kink?”
The room reverberated with their booming laughter.
“It’s actually all Max’s fault. His favorite movies were the Crocodile Dundee series when we were, what? Ten years old?” Jack asked in general. “He made us watch it so often, we knew the entire dialogue. It started as a joke and pretty soon it became so ingrained in how we addressed each other, it just stuck with us through all the years.”
“Don’t bash the movie, mate. It’s because of that you became a master in the art of knife fighting,” Max said in his defense.
“Good, you’re all here,” Rhone said as he and Alex walked into the office. “Bruce is on his way but said we shouldn’t wait on him.”
“Thank you for joining us, Sean. It’s good to see you, again,” Alex said with a jovial smile. He looked at the others. “I’ve asked Sean to come because he plays an integral role in the case we discussed the other day. Sean, please give us a quick rundown of your undercover op.”
Sean cleared his throat. He pushed his hands deep into his jeans’ pockets and rocked back on his heels. There was no sign of the earlier mirth on his face.
“I went deep undercover two years ago when the Government got Intel that the Russian Mafia was colluding to infiltrate our defense system. I managed to win the confidence of their highest authority.”
“Let me get this straight. You won the confidence of the Bratva?” Ethan didn’t attempt to hide the concern in his voice. He could already envision how upsetting such news would be to Paige.
“Not the entire brigade, no,” Sean hedged. He glanced at Alex, who nodded his consent. “I’m the secret US informant and confidant to the Pakhan, or the Boss, as they’re called over here. Nobody from the four criminal cells in the Bratva knows about me.”
“That’s unusual. Russian crime syndicates never run solo, least of all the top gun of the mob,” Jack speculated. “Let me guess. It’s Vladimir Alenichev, isn’t it? I fucking knew he wasn’t dead.”