by Dark, Raven
“Make yourself at home, Agent,” Gwen muttered. She stared at him with a mix of fascination and annoyance. Before he’d arrived, Archer said he lived in Virginia, working out of Quantico, but he certainly smacked of the dominance and bossiness of a Haven man.
“I will, thank you. I need to see the emails this letter refers to. The ones between you and Archer.”
Gwen’s head snapped around to Archer and her face flamed. Shit. Archer didn’t bat an eye, but the idea of a man she didn’t know seeing emails that implied her getting off mortified her.
“Agent Lassiter, I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“Gwen, it’s okay.” Archer squeezed her shoulder. “He’s trained to deal with a lot kinkier than our emails.”
“What?”
Lassiter’s dark, almost black eyes snagged hers. His face softened. “Trust me, I get it. It’s invasive as fuck. But I’m used to this. You won’t shock me.”
She sighed. She could hear it in his voice, the promise that he’d been trained to deal with the sorts of things her brother blamed her for out of hand.
“They’re in my inbox.”
Lassiter nodded and clicked a few keys. “Do you have any other devices this guy might have gotten into? A phone he’s called?”
“My phone.”
“Give it to me.”
Gwen shot Archer a look. Archer snorted, squeezing her hand. She dug out her phone and slapped it into the agent’s palm.
He responded to her irritation with a grunt.
“Anything else?” She wished she could have made her voice harder, but evidently her ability to mouth off went down to half power with anyone but Archer.
“Yes. Coffee, black.”
Gwen fired Archer a glare.
“I’ll get it.” He chuckled, but she had a feeling he was trying to stop a firework from going off. Gwen hurried after him into the kitchen.
“Holy crap, is he always like that?”
Archer’s eyes danced as he put coffee on. “Yeah, it’s worth it though. He’s a hardass, but he gets it done. You get used to it.”
And yet, as miffed as Agent Lassiter’s attitude made her, there was a certain reassurance in his no-nonsense manner. He wouldn’t waste time with the mundane, instead devoting all his energy to catching his quarry.
When Gwen came out with the coffee, Agent Lassiter was still reading the emails. He pulled out a large bag of sunflower seeds, set them on the table and cracked one with his teeth while he read. He barely gave her a nod of thanks for the coffee.
Nerves eating at her, Gwen seated herself beside Archer on the smaller couch. The silence seemed to drag on forever, broken only by the crack of sunflower seeds and clicking keys.
At last, Lassiter looked up from the screen. If he was bothered by anything in the emails between Gwen and Archer, he gave no sign. He might as well have read a weather report for all he cared.
Lassiter stood up while running a hand through his silver-streaked hair. She estimated he was in his late forties, though his hard, smooth face and the cords of muscle under his jacket made it hard to tell. He also looked a little tired, like he’d worked too many double shifts.
“Well, there’s bad news and really bad news.” He unhooked the equipment he’d attached to the laptop.
“What?” Gwen stood up and went to his side, looking at the screen.
“Bad news, I can’t trace the emails or the calls. Whoever he is, he’s bouncing all over the place. One minute he’s in Haven, the next he’s in California, the next he’s in Haiti. He’s disguised his address well.”
Gwen paled. “What’s the really bad news?”
“He’s a certified wackjob. One who genuinely thinks he has a right to you. And he won’t stop until he’s caught.”
Gwen slumped down into the chair near him, knees too weak to hold her up. Archer came to her side and laid a hand on her shoulder. Amazing how comforting that one gesture was. “Maybe we should have started with the good news.”
“Is there any?” Archer asked him.
“Yes.” Lassiter scooped up a handful of seeds. “One. We’ll get him, eventually. Men like him always make a mistake, and when he does, we’ll be ready.”
She ran a hand down her face. “What am I supposed to do?”
Concern for her crinkled Lassiter’s brow. “Brother’s a cop, right?”
“Yes.”
“You tell him?”
“Yes. He didn’t find anything.”
“He didn’t look hard enough.”
Gwen stared at Archer, unable to help a small smile. He nodded. She pushed out a sigh and sat forward. “Agent Lassiter, the truth is, my brother blames me for this.”
He scowled. “Why?”
“Because…because I work at a BDSM club.”
One brow rose, but it was all the emotion he showed. He cracked a seed between his teeth. “You play, Miss Stanton?”
She glanced at Archer, hating the doubts and fears that plagued her. “I didn’t, until recently, and only with Archer.”
Again, he gave her only a deadpan look and a nod. No sign he blamed her or thought she’d done anything to deserve what was happening.
“Well, let’s clear one thing up right now. You’re not gonna get flack from me for it. I’ve been a Dom for twelve years, and I’m trained to handle cases that involve kink. The police in this town could do with a good lesson in tact so far as that. So you can relax now.”
She blinked up at him, baffled. Which shocked her more, his candor with admitting the lifestyle or his brusque assurance, she didn’t know, but she couldn’t help liking him.
Lassiter packed up the equipment he’d used on her laptop into his bag as he talked. “Tell me everything you can about him. Everything he’s done.”
Over the next few minutes, Gwen relayed everything she could since the calls began before Christmas. When she finished, he nodded, then pulled an evidence bag from his coat pocket and slipped her phone inside. He unfolded a second, much larger bag and put her computer in it.
“Okay. For starters, I need to take both of these. You’ll get them back as soon as the case is solved. Second, I’ll look into the emails and calls, but in the meantime, I can give you some tips to keep yourselves safe until he does mess up and we catch him.”
Gwen nodded. Relief and gratitude swept through her. For the first time since this whole thing started, she felt real hope that this guy would finally be caught.
* * *
By Friday, her stalker still hadn’t made his presence known. Seated at her desk at The Sanctuary, Gwen narrowed her eyes at the blank screen on her new phone. In his last message, he’d threatened both her and Archer for their wickedness. He’d had no issue getting her new number before when she’d changed phones. He wouldn’t just disappear now.
She had to admit, it was nice to open her phone and not find thirty something calls or emails from him, but something about it also made her nervous. With how closely he watched her, he might know she had Lassiter on the case.
A rap on the door made her jerk her head up. “Yeah?”
Nick walked in, carrying a huge stack of folders. For some reason, the crooked smile her boss wore made her stomach drop.
“Oh no, tell me those aren’t for me.”
Nick put them on the desk with a heavy thump. “Yeah, they are. Problem?”
She bit back a sigh. “I’m suppose to meet Archer here at five.” She checked the clock. 4:30. She glanced at the teetering stack of files. Would she be done in time?
Archer had made it clear what would happen if she was ever late for anything. He meant what he’d told her when she’d first met him in his class. He didn’t tolerate lateness. But if she left Nick with those files, she knew what would happen.
“Here, give me those. If I leave you to do it, you’ll make a mess of my whole system.”
Nick snorted. “Archer’s right. You’re becoming bolder. I like it.”
Gwen grinned, flushing. “Honestly, I di
dn’t think about it. I’ve become so at ease, speaking my mind with him.” When he allows it. When he doesn’t, that man knows how to shut me up.
“Thanks, Gwen. Shall I send Archer in when he gets here then?”
Gwen narrowed her eyes at him. Did he look playful? With Nick it was sometimes hard to tell. There was a light in his eyes, but otherwise, his expression was neutral. What was he up to?
“Sure, send him in.”
“Okay. Oh, by the way, Rick is leaving in a few.” He nodded to the bouncer who watched the back door. “Want Gary to take over for him?”
“Yes please.”
“How you holding up, anyways?” Nick leaned on the side of her desk.
“Oh, I’m good. I feel like I’m being guarded by the fucking secret service, and I can’t even use the ladies’ room without being watched, but I’m good.”
Truthfully, it wasn’t all bad. The night she’d met Lassiter, his advice had made her painfully aware of how vulnerable she was to her stalker. He’d taught her how to secure her apartment every night, checking the locks, putting wedges in the windows, making sure she left all the escape routes unobstructed, no longer leaving her shoes where she might trip over them in a hasty escape. He’d also arranged for her to have an alarm put on her apartment. At the club, she had one of the bouncers on the back door at all times. At the hospital, a security guard watched her office, and someone followed her everywhere, even to the bathroom. The constant surveillance annoyed her, but the knowledge of her own safety felt incredibly empowering, like learning karate.
“Anything I can do?” Nick asked.
“Catch the creep for me?”
He set his hand on her shoulder with a smile and stood up. “I wish I were a cop, so I could. You know, if you ever need a safe place to stay, Zoe and I are happy to have you.”
She squeezed his hand. “I know, and love you both for it.”
“See you tomorrow?”
“Yep, thanks, Nick.”
“You bet.”
When Nick left, she set to work, organizing the mess of files so out of order Nick must have dropped them at least twice. Why the heck were Master Hicks’ limits sheets in with Mistress K’s payment forms? Honestly, sometimes she swore Nick did this on purpose.
She lost herself in the monotony of filing and reorganizing, putting order to chaos. A task that let her mind wander and forget about the stalker and her family.
At a knock on the door, she lifted her head. “Come in. Archer.” If she was still on the clock, he was Archer, not Sir.
The door opened and Archer strode in. He looked gorgeous as always, in dark ripped jeans and a fitted red button-down that hugged his huge shoulders and stretched over his powerful chest just right.
“Hi. Give me a minute, I’m almost done here.” She sat back on her knees in front of the open drawer of Nick’s overstuffed steel cabinet.
Archer didn’t say anything, and when she felt him standing beside her shoulder, she looked up.
“Archer, what…”
The soft leather tip of a crop feathered over her face, her cheek. It slipped under her chin, and Archer pushed her chin up so she looked into his face. The scowl there made her stomach heat.
“What time is it, Gwen?”
Gwen’s gaze shifted to the clock over the door. Her eyes widened. How the hell had she lost track of time like this? She swallowed, throat dry. Tried to steady breathing that refused to remain even.
“Twe…twenty after five. Crap, I didn’t even notice. Sorry.”
“Sorry, what?”
Her chest heaved on a huge breath. Her ass clenched, even while her pussy ached. “Sorry, Sir.”
Archer tapped her chin with the crop. “On your feet.” Dangerously soft.
Knees weak, Gwen obeyed, blood sluggish in her veins, and too hot.
“What did I tell you I would do to you if you went against any of my rules, Gwen?”
She closed her eyes. She’d brought this on herself. He had made his rules explicitly clear, along with what would happen if she went against them. She’d taken on a task she’d known she might not finish in time when she could have said no.
Wait, was Nick in on this? Fuck, she was going to kill him.
“Archer, I…”
“No excuses.” He turned and walked across the large room toward a leather couch along one wall, twirling the crop in one hand. “I told you I don’t tolerate excuses, did I not?”
Did she hear a smile there? Yep, they’d set her up.
Gwen’s skin flushed to the point she was sure she’d overheat, knees threatening to give out. She twisted her hands, lowering her eyes.
“Yes, Sir.”
His head lifted, but he didn’t turn to her. She hated that she couldn’t see his face. His tone was so stern, she needed to see his eyes, a hint of gentleness there, the warmth she knew he was capable of.
“What did I say I would do to you if you were late?”
Gwen licked her lips. There was something about the words that sounded so forbidden, so dirty, she couldn’t get them out. “Do we have to do… that… now, Sir? I…”
He turned then, and the hint of a smile didn’t do anything to ease her nervousness. It was crooked and wicked, but she couldn’t tell if it was playful, predatory, or both.
“Yes. If I set rules and you disobey them, I have to take action. As soon after the infraction as possible, so you’ll learn.” He strode slowly back to her. Walked around in back of her, slow, wolfish. “I will give you a choice, though.”
“Sir?”
He ran the end of the crop over one globe of her ass, a single, threatening reminder. When he spoke, his voice was a deep rasp.
“You want me to take your ass here, or at home?”
Gwen turned to him, her thoughts racing too fast. “P…pardon, Sir?” She’d heard him, but her mind wouldn’t process the choice properly.
“Choose, or I choose for you. Personally, I’d like to see what you do when you know someone will hear you screaming every time I smack your ass.”
The implications of what he was telling her sank in slowly. Here, oh god. Part of her, a mortified part, screamed for her to tell him to take her home. Another part, the part that loved Archer’s dark side, longed for something more forbidden.
“I’m waiting, Gwen.” The words snapped her back to reality. He walked around in front of her and tipped her chin up with the crop.
“I…um.” Her heart did a wild dance. “Here, Sir.” Holy shit. Had she said that out loud? Why had she said that?
“I want you here.” He shoved her behind the desk, pushing her chair out of the way. Gwen stared at him, wide-eyed. The aggression did crazy things to her insides.
“Do I just bend over the desk and spread ’em, then, Sir?”
His eyes blazed and her gaze dropped to the desk. It was getting easier to speak her mind, but when he looked like that, all her bravado just fled.
The end of the crop slapped her cheek. The light sting went straight to her clit.
“Smart aleck sub. Mouth off to me again, and your cheek’s gonan hurt. And I choose whether it’s this one…” He tapped her cheek, then moved slowly behind her before smacking her ass lightly with the crop. “Or this one. Got it?”
Gwen squirmed against him, loving the way his huge palm cradled her chin, controlling her so easily. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good.” He set the crop on the desk. “Since this is your first punishment scene and anal play is new to you, we’ll go nice and slow. There are rules. If you follow them, it’ll end sooner. If not.” He stopped and ran his fingers just under the lip of her skirt.
She licked her lips. “If not, Sir?”
He jerked her body hard against him, grinding himself into her hard, until she felt every inch of his cock against the crack of her ass. “If not, we’re gonna be here a long, long time.”
20
Punishment
His words sent liquid fire through her veins. How long could Archer k
eep her there? She wasn’t sure she wanted to find out how inventive he could get dragging this out.
Heartbeat pulsing in her throat, she stood behind the desk, hands resting on the top of it, silent, waiting to see what he’d do next.
“So. Rules.” Still standing behind her, Archer put his mouth to her ear and tapped the back of her hand with the crop. “You put your hands where I tell you. You pull away or you mouth off, I’ll make it last longer. I won’t go hard this time, but it won’t be a cakewalk.”
She gripped the sides of the desk as if it was a lifeline.
He cupped her chin, keeping her still. “The minute it becomes too much, you say red. When I’m playing back here is not the time to freeze up. Clear?”
Gwen didn’t need a lot of experience to know how sensitive that area was, or how careful he had to be at first. She drew a breath. “Yes, Sir. I’m…I’m ready now.”
“There is a downside to doing this here. If we were at my place, I’d tie your ankles to the legs of the desk and cuff your hands. Spread you nice and wide, fix you so you can’t do anything but take what I give you.”
Every inch of Gwen’s body heated and she squirmed against him. “This is a BDSM club, Sir. I’m sure there are ropes here.”
What the hell? Why was she telling him that?
“True. Next time. I want to get down to business. You just do as I say and keep still.” He pushed her feet apart with his.
“Yes, Sir.”
He ran his mouth over her neck, up to her ear while he slowly pulled her shirt from the waist of her skirt. “Why are you being punished, Gwen?”
She bit her tongue to keep from begging him to just do what he’d come to do and stop playing with her. “I…I was late, Sir.”
“Mm. And why is that bad?” One huge hand massaged her ass while the other undid the buttons on her blouse. The anticipation nearly drove her insane.
“I shouldn’t have made you wait, Sir.”
“Good girl.” He fisted the bottom of her skirt, shoved it up to her waist, and jerked the back of her panties down. Baring her ass for him.