Campaign of Desire (CSA Case Files 4) (31 page)

“Y
ou left out quite a bit of information about your group of friends,” Phoebe said as they walked down the hallway to Lach’s apartment. The building had been located on the other side of the city and although it didn’t have the amenities that hers did, she loved the antique fashioned hallways. It made her feel as if she were back in time. “Do they all attend Masters?”

Phoebe appreciated that Lach had shortened his stride so that she could keep up. She figured he must have an end unit considering they were still walking and coming up on the end of the hallway. She did notice that his door was slightly different than the others, although he used a key to enter just the same. Lach refrained from answering her question as he spoke with Thornton. She and Lach had waited an additional five minutes in their car as Thornton had arrived to take up the other agent’s position.

“Is that necessary?” Phoebe asked as Thornton went into Lach’s apartment to apparently search the premises. “The other agent didn’t search Jax’s place.”

“He did, once he knew you were secure in the living room,” Lach replied, leaning a shoulder against the wall as he spoke. “You were having too much fun to notice.”

“I was intrigued. You left out a lot of information.” Phoebe watched his face as she asked her previous question once more. “Do all of your friends attend Masters?”

“Every one of them with the exception of Crest.” Lach’s dark eyes studied her, although she wasn’t sure what he was looking for. “Connor and Lauren play once in a while, although not often. Jax and Emily have a scheduled date night once a month, although I couldn’t tell you when. Kevin and Elle haven’t conducted a scene in the play area yet, at least not that I know of. Ethan enjoys the company of the uncollared submissives, and although Taryn has attended and watched, she hasn’t played.”

“Do, um, some of them play…”

“Together?” Lach laughed and shook his head. “No. I’m sure there are those at the club who live that type of lifestyle, but my comrades are too much like me. I don’t share well.”

“That’s good, considering I don’t either,” Phoebe replied seriously.

Phoebe would have added on more to her sentiment had Thornton not come out and give them the all clear to enter. She hadn’t given much thought to what Lach’s home would look like, but she was now curious. He waved a hand in front of her and she stepped over the threshold. What she saw took her breath away.

“Oh, my God. Is that a Renoir sketch?” Phoebe almost tripped over her feet as she scurried across the living room. The piece was magnificent and she had no doubt that it was an original charcoal drawing of
The Bathers
. The only vice that she saw Lach have was with his coffee, but that could be explained by his experienced palate due to the family business. “Lach, this is beautiful.”

“Owning a vineyard has its advantages,” Lach replied, his voice far away. Phoebe couldn’t tear her eyes off of the image to see where he’d gone. “We have some very close family friends who own an art gallery and who are also private collectors. It’s not my usual thing, but something about it caught my eye.”

Phoebe had no idea how long she’d been standing there, but suddenly Lach appeared by her side with a glass of water. She took the offered drink although looked at him quizzically. It had to be going on five o’clock.

“Trust me, you’ll need the hydration.”

Phoebe felt a rush of heat rise up her neck and she took a sip of the cold beverage. There was that blush again that he seemed to produce with just a few words. He didn’t comment, and as a matter of fact, went back into the kitchen. The open layout was similar to hers, although there seemed to be a number of rooms on either side of the spacious area.

She finally looked around and she could see that he’d taken the time to decorate the apartment himself versus bringing in a designer. What made her think he would have someone else invade his space was laughable now. His furniture was very functional, and though the rare piece of art hung on the far side of the room, it was the huge flat screen television to the left that seemed to be the centerpiece. There weren’t any plants, yet the place didn’t need any to feel homey. He’d done that with several throw pillows, which he probably used under his head or feet when watching a game. The place had a great amount of natural light from the two walls of windows on either side of the art display. She realized that the reason the room flowed so well was the feng shui style or auspicious manner in which he had arranged the room.

“I have to work tomorrow,” Phoebe said, wanting to get that out of the way. She stole a glance as he walked back with a white box in hand. It was what was holding her corset and her fingers itched to see the promised unique design. Lauren had commented on it again, letting Phoebe know that the sapphires were real and added a touch of elegance to the material. She couldn’t wait to try it on, but she needed him to know about next week. “I also have some television interviews in New York and I have to meet up with Dad for a rally in—”

“Phoebe, I know that you’re running on a tight schedule.” Lach took the glass out of her hand and replaced it with the box. “We both knew that going into this. So we make the best use of our time that we do have.”

Phoebe hadn’t realized that she’d been apprehensive about his reaction to her busy schedule, but the reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere drained the tension from her shoulders. Things were going so well, she kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Some of the references this afternoon about the turmoil of the others’ relationships and how they’d started out made her wary of their easygoing path. Yes, they had their bumps in the beginning, but nothing like what the women had described regarding theirs.

“I—” Phoebe cut herself short just in time. She wasn’t sure what the hell she’d been about to say, but whatever it had been wasn’t going to come out. She wouldn’t ruin what they had. Lach had a way of making her feel as if only the two of them existed, yet she was well aware of the outside forces that had to be dealt with. Lach didn’t blink as she corrected herself. “You’re right. Let’s make the best of it.”

*   *   *   *

Lach used the time that Phoebe took to change into her corset to set up a scene that had been running through his mind since he’d rescued her from Northern Africa. In part, it would relieve him of the stress that he found whenever he thought she was placing herself in danger; however it would also give Phoebe a taste of his favorite implement.

It was rare that he played in his apartment. Lach appreciated the use of the furniture provided by the club, but Phoebe wasn’t anywhere near ready nor available to experience play in such a public setting. He wasn’t so sure that she would ever be able to, regardless of how well Jax and Connor had refined the membership process. If Phoebe were going to be the daughter of the President of the United States, there would be no protocols safe enough in that environment. Lach personally would never take that chance, which meant he needed to take matters into his own hands and make sure that they both got what they needed in regards to their sexual desires.

“Sir?”

Lach closed his eyes and savored the title that fell from Phoebe’s lips. He didn’t think he would ever get used to hearing it. There was a sweet melody that manifested itself within her voice in this setting that sang to him in a way no other woman had before. He considered himself a simple man, particularly if he discounted his obsession with good coffee, but he could still appreciate the qualities of a special and highly unique woman like Phoebe.

She was standing in the doorway of Lach’s bathroom when he turned from the eyehooks that he’d embedded into the wall. She was a vision in the corset he’d ordered specifically with the color of her eyes in mind. She had such deep blue eyes that could only be rivaled by the shade of those stones. He’d purchased the corset to purposefully provide more exposure of her breasts. They were gently cradled as they sat perched above the two half moon settings as if her flesh were a part of the cream leather. Surrounding the cut was where Lauren had placed the stones in tiny repeating teardrop patterns that only served to accent the delicate curve of her bosom.

“Turn.”

Lach could see from where he was positioned that Phoebe’s breathing had quickened from how her breasts were rising and falling. To be able to witness her reaction in such a clear way was a bonus he hadn’t expected. He hadn’t wanted any other fabric to cover her in any other way, so her bottom half was nude. Upon her turning, he saw that she’d tightened the special ribbons in the back flawlessly, showing her adoration of the clothing. A lot of women couldn’t get themselves into a corset and tied themselves, let alone with such precision. She was perfection.

“You’re lovely.”

Phoebe went to turn and face him, but Lach saw her hesitate and was pleased to know why. She was waiting for his order, but she’d have to wait just a little while longer. He was too busy enjoying the way her posture was so faultless, along with the delicious curve of her ass below the slight bow instilled by the bone stays surrounding her waist. Her flesh was nearly porcelain in color and her crevice led to the erotic notch where her pussy was nestled. It was a place he would know well when they were done, but first he needed to warm her up.

“Come here, but walk slowly so that I can soak you in.”

Phoebe did as he asked and he knew the moment she saw the matching cream wrist cuffs in his hand by the stutter in her step. She came to stand before him, gradually lifting her hands in front of her. Her blue eyes had already started to deepen to match the sapphires embedded in her corset. He planned to make them correspond perfectly by the time he was done.

“I’ve studied your list of soft and hard limits. I’m going to press one of those soft limits this evening.” Lach could have continued to tell her that he promised to go slow and that he would watch for any sign of distress or panic she might be feeling should he take things a little farther than she was comfortable with, but he didn’t. After a year of this song and dance, Phoebe trusted him. She already knew that he would never push her beyond what she would enjoy, but the thrill of not knowing what was coming was still prevalent and it was what was vital to a scene. “You have one choice and one choice only.”

“What would that be, Sir?”

Lach didn’t answer right away as he went about securing her wrist and ankles cuffs with two fingers of play, ensuring that there was enough room not to cut off her circulation. Whereas he usually kept his bag in a storage unit at Masters, he’d retrieved it midweek and cancelled his locker when he knew he wouldn’t be using it any time soon. His play bag had come home, in a manner of speaking. Due to this set-up, having to be creative with the props he had available, he would have her back against the wall with her front facing him. Her swollen mounds of flesh would be his to do with as he wished.

“You may decide to wear a blindfold or elect not to and watch everything that I’m doing. If you chose the latter, I forewarn you that you will be ordered to look at me as you come.” Lach walked Phoebe backward until her back was against the wall. He lifted her left arm and connected her wrist cuff to the secreted eyebolt with a small carabiner spring snap. She seemed to give her choices some thought, so upon her silence he continued to do the same with her other wrist and her ankles. Standing, he made sure she wasn’t misunderstanding him. “You will look directly in my eyes as you find your release and only when I allow it. If you orgasm before I want you to, I will punish you for your impulsive dissilience. Consequently, you will experience more orgasms than you’re comfortable with this night.”

Saying the words stirred Lach’s blood, so he could just imagine what they did to her. Allowing Phoebe more time to make her decision, he stepped close until only a thin layer of air separated them. He dipped his head and nibbled her bottom lip as she parted them in response. He brushed his own against her cheek as softly as he could, wanting her to feel him yet strain for what she really wanted. He continued to caress his lips across her delicate features until he felt her try and shift her body toward him…and then he stepped away.

“What will it be, my little socialite?”

“No blindfold. I want to see,” Phoebe whispered, biting her lower lip where he’d tasted her. It seemed she surprised even herself with her answer, but Lach was delighted she’d taken another step outside of her comfort zone. “Sir.”

“I’m pleased.” Lach stepped farther back so that he could admire her beauty. The color of the wall behind her was the burnt amber of the Tuscan sunset, contrasting beautifully with her pale flesh that had never been kissed by the sunlight. The disparity was not so much so that it detracted from her spread-eagle form that appeared wrapped to perfection just for him. He’d dimmed the lights enough for ambiance yet not subdued enough that he couldn’t recognize her reactions. Phoebe had even pulled her hair back, as if knowing it would get in the way of this night’s festivities. There would be nothing to prevent him from seeing the pure pleasure of what she was about to feel. “Do you know what my favorite implement is?”

“No, Sir,” Phoebe answered properly, although her eyes quickly darted around the room. He had no doubt she was looking for something wicked and he smiled. “What is it?”

Lach didn’t like how quickly the tension had mounted in Phoebe’s shoulders, so he took a step forward and made sure that the heat of his body covered hers. He was only wearing a pair of denims, freeing the upper part of his body to move with grace when manipulating the flogger. Pushing a person even slightly past their comfort zone was challenging and rewarding. He accepted the task with zeal.

“What do you feel?” Lach murmured, refusing to answer Phoebe’s question. He gently kissed the inside of Phoebe’s neck. “Tell me.”

“Your lips, Sir.”

“No,” Lach responded, correcting her. “What do you
feel
?”

“Nervous, Sir.” Phoebe laid her forehead against his shoulder. “I feel nervous and apprehensive. I don’t know what you’re going to do, and yet that both concerns and excites me. I’m not scared. I just feel confused, Sir.”