Armed and Dangerous (3 page)

Shane put down his fork and laid a hand over hers. “He loves you. Plenty of men don't know how to show it, and that was his way.”

“Yeah. I miss the old fart sometimes,” she confessed. “I don't know why.”

“You love him, too.” He gave her a gentle smile, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb.

“I do. But I couldn't stay there. Tennessee was calling me home.”
And you were here.
“I worked for a small police department up there for a few years, saved my money. Then I applied for the Sugarland PD, got the job, and packed as fast as humanly possible.”

“Maine's loss, our gain. Does your dad still live there?”

She liked the warmth of his hand on hers. A lot. It awakened something inside her that she was sure wasn't a good idea. “Yes. Won't budge for the world, even though I offered to help him move back here. I guess he'll stay there for the rest of his days.”

“You never know. Pop out a grandkid or two and he might change his tune.”

She snickered. “Like that'll happen anytime soon.”

Shane withdrew his hand and she felt the loss immediately. She enjoyed his touch. Wanted more of it with a longing that almost physically hurt.

Get over it, girl. In that direction lies a load of heartache.

Finished eating, they cleared the table. She helped him put away the leftovers and load the dishwasher, then he poured them another glass of wine. Good thing she'd had food, or she'd be tipsy right about now. Not a good thing when in close quarters with a sexy hunk of male flesh.

“Ready to learn a little about this D/s stuff?” he asked.

“As I'll ever be.”

She trailed him into the living room where he moved her coat and purse to a big easy chair. His laptop was sitting on the coffee table, along with a spiral notebook and a pencil. He took a seat on the sofa in front of the computer and gestured to the space next to him.

Nerves jittered again, and she fought to push them down. They were relating so well to each other, and she wanted that ease to continue in spite of the subject matter of their undercover jaunt.

“Here goes,” he said. “What I know about domination and submission could fit into a thimble, so there's only room for improvement.”

“Same here. I've never been into that scene.”

Opening the laptop, he wiggled the mouse to wake up the screen. Next, the opened the Web browser and typed
Domination and submission
into the search field. And got about a gazillion hits. “Christ. Where to start?”

“With the basic definition, I suppose.”

He clicked on one of the first links and they began to scan the information. “Says here that it's a lifestyle that's frequently misunderstood as kink when what it's really about is power. One partner's need for another to take the reins, be in charge, and the other partner's need to take care of their sub. Doesn't have to be about sex,” he said in surprise. “I never thought of it like that.”

“Me, either. I never realized it's more about caring and trust between partners, and that sex is just a small part of the big picture.”

Shane scribbled some notes. “That's well and good, but something tells me that this group we're going to infiltrate isn't totally about hearts and flowers. I have a feeling our country club set is made up of a bunch of weekend dabblers who're in it to get off and don't have the first clue what D/s is supposed to be about.”

“From what we're reading, I'm inclined to agree.” She paused. “And I'm thinking they won't wear leather, collars, or anything that would draw the attention of the other club guests. We're not going to need special clothing.”

“I get to leave my spiked collar at home? Goody.” Humor danced in his gray eyes.

“Lucky you.”

“We'll show up dressed in our sexy best, something suitable for the rich folks that still puts off a vibe of
available and ready to play
.”

She agreed. “We'll have to play up being a couple, like Rainey said. Drop a few words in willing ears here and there.” That thought, Shane's proximity, his wonderful scent of musk and man, was starting to go to her head.
Damn!

“Exactly.” Exiting the current page, he clicked on a new link. “This one gives more of the terminology. Check it out: if the man dominates, he's the
Dom
and his partner typically refers to him as
Master
or
Sir
. If it's the female, she's the
Domme
and her partner calls her
Mistress
. Some live the lifestyle only during sex, and others live it in every aspect of their lives, twenty-four seven. Hard to imagine, huh?”

“Very. It does hold a certain strange appeal, though.”

He looked at her sharply, interest flashing across his face. “Really? I never knew you were such a bad girl at heart.” It seemed he was only half-joking.

Her pulse beat a bit faster, and arousal began low in her belly. “Then you should do your homework more often,” she replied, the statement coming out lower and more husky than she intended.

His lips curved upward and for a long, tense moment he simply stared at her. Then he went back to the article. After they'd read what information they could, he clicked on a link that took them to a D/s site that was almost all pictures demonstrating the lifestyle.

And what a demonstration. The pictures were mind-boggling. Couples were depicted in every possible position, both dressed and undressed. One showed an attractive woman on her knees in front of a fit, muscular man. His hand was buried in her long hair, guiding her mouth onto his rock-hard cock.

Instantly, the tension that had been simmering between them became heightened awareness. A very sexual awareness of each other that stretched to the breaking point and couldn't be denied. Reaching out, Shane touched her cheek, then ran his thumb over her lips.

“May I kiss you?”

It's all I've ever wanted. That and so much more.

“Yes,” she managed.

He paused, desire shining in his eyes. “I really shouldn't.”

“I don't care.”

That seemed to make up his mind. His lips touched hers and desire ignited her body. Her nipples tingled, puckered into tiny peaks. Her sex grew warm, and she needed to be touched. Her mouth opened to allow him to explore and his tongue worked magic. Explored and tasted. He drove her crazy.

“I want you,” he whispered between kisses.

“Yes.”

That was all the encouragement either of them required. The many reasons why this was a bad idea flew out the window. She helped him pull her cotton shirt over her head, didn't think of protesting when he unclasped her bra. Then she was exposed to him and there was no awkwardness. Only passion and heat. Flames blazing higher.

Bending, he captured one pert nipple in his mouth and rolled it on his tongue, teasing it with his lips and teeth before moving to the other and lavishing it with the same attention. Little spirals of delight whirled though her, making her insane with needing him closer.

Blindly, she groped for his track pants, found the crotch. Behind the silky material was a hard ridge of flesh waiting to be freed. She didn't make him wait for long. She worked the pants down, off his hips, to discover he was commando underneath, and sucked in a breath.

“Confident?”

“Hopeful,” he corrected with a groan as she wrapped her fingers around his hardness.

Stroking, she enjoyed his sounds of pleasure. The way he closed his eyes and tilted his head back, arched his hips into her touch. “You like that.”

“Yes. More, please . . .”

“Since you asked so nicely . . .”

Scooting around to reach him better, she bent and touched her tongue to the spongy head of his cock. His rod was flushed almost purple with excitement, and she realized that he had probably been fighting the same arousal she had since she'd arrived. That knowledge pleased her, made her feel pretty powerful.

Licking a pearly drop of pre-cum, she relished his salty taste. His skin was baby smooth, but he was pulsing steel underneath. She deep-throated him and loved that he buried his fingers in her hair, squeezing tight yet not hurting her. Sucking, wetting his shaft as she moved up and down, she drove him to the edge of desperation.

“God, Daisy! I need to be inside you!”

“I want that, too.” Sitting up, she moved off the sofa and stood. Quickly she ditched her shoes, jeans, and panties. “How hopeful were you?”

His grin was a bit sheepish as he removed a condom from the pocket of his track pants. “Answer your question?”

“Completely.” Some women might've been annoyed by his presumption, but she wasn't. To her, it meant he had wanted her before she arrived, and cared enough to see to their protection.

Removing his pants, he took her hand. “Here, or my bedroom?”

“Here, please. I can't wait!”

“Okay. Here, then again in my bedroom,” he replied seductively.

“God, yes.”

He led her around to the back of the sofa, positioning her to face it. “Hold on, bend over, and spread your legs.” She did, shaking with desire. “That's it, sweetheart. Jesus, you're so beautiful.”

She was beyond speaking as he trailed a rough finger down her spine. Shivering, she gasped as his fingertip ventured into the crack of her ass cheeks. He explored a place no one ever had before, causing naughty spears of lust to shoot through every limb.

Next he rubbed the vulnerable folds between her legs, taking his time to drive her insane. Found the little clit and teased it, making her arch into his touch and whimper like a slut. She didn't care. It had been too damned long since she'd enjoyed a lover's touch. The truth was, Shane was the one. There was nobody who could measure up to him, in every way.

“You're so wet, baby. So ready for me.”

“Yes.”

The wrapper crinkled and in seconds the head of his cock was pushing inside her. He eased in with delicious slowness, making her shake. “I'm gonna fuck you hard, honey. You okay with that?”

“Do it!”

Despite his eagerness, he kept the pace leisurely at first, taking great care that she was pleasured along with him. His length burrowed deeper, stretching and filling her to a completion she'd never felt before. He branded her inside out, stroking, faster and faster. Soon he was fucking her hard and fast, and she clutched the back of the sofa, trying to stave off orgasm as long as possible.

But their bodies wouldn't be denied. All too quickly his movements began to take on a frantic rhythm. His fingers dug into her hips and his big frame tensed.

“So close,” he rasped. “Can't stop.”

“Don't stop—gonna come!”

With a shout, he buried himself to the hilt. Began to jerk inside her and then slammed deep a few more times, riding out his orgasm. Daisy's own orgasm exploded in a shower of fireworks, stronger than she'd imagined. She was blown away by the force of it, stripped down and made new.

They shuddered together for a few moments. Resting against her back, he said in her ear, “Why don't we move this to my room? Then I can fuck you all night long.”

She smiled. “I think that's the best plan I've ever heard.”

Oh, she had it bad. And she was going to regret giving this man even the tiniest piece of her heart. Eventually.

For now, she'd take this ride as far as it would travel.

3

When Shane promised a woman a mind-blowing night, he always delivered.

That the woman was Daisy was a scenario he'd never allowed himself to seriously consider, but he wouldn't regret it. He fucked her twice more that night, and afterwards they slept wrapped in each other's arms.

The sex was fantastic, just as he'd known it would be. Daisy was a responsive lover, so open and uninhibited. What's more, she was intelligent and fun to be around. He was going to miss this when they parted ways.

And they would. He didn't do forever, and he hoped she understood. Or that she wouldn't be too upset.

He fell asleep thinking about her reaction and the niggle of guilt was still there when he opened his eyes to find the sun shining through the curtains. Next to him, her warm, soft body snuggled closer and she moaned.

Chuckling, he spooned her and kissed her shoulder. “Awake?”

“Mmm.”

“Hungry?”

“I could eat,” she said sleepily. “Some wild man screwed the hell out of me last night.”

“You've got that backwards—some wild woman used me last night until I was a shriveled, pathetic husk.”

A small giggle shook her form and she hugged his arm, which was wrapped around her middle. “Nothing pathetic about that performance, detective.”

“Glad you think so.” He gave her another kiss, inhaling her sweet scent. “Bacon, eggs, and toast?”

“Perfect.” She rolled to stare up at him, raked her fingers through his hair. “What are we doing here, Shane?”

He winced inwardly. He'd expected to address the issue, but he'd hoped for a bit more time. To maybe just let the parting come about naturally, as horrible as that sounded.

“We're having some fun,” he told her, trying for a lighthearted tone. “And why not? We like each other and we're consenting adults.”

“For how long?” she asked quietly. “Until the case is over?”

He cupped her face. “It can't last much longer than that. I mean, we work together.” That wasn't the real issue, though, and they both knew it. He sighed. “Some men want the honeymoon and kids, a family dog.”

“But you're not that guy.”

“No, honey. I'm not that guy.”

Then why does it feel so wrong, telling her that? Why does it make my stomach hurt?

“I understand.” She smiled brightly, but it seemed a bit sad. Forced. “Maybe I'm not that girl, either. So, breakfast?”

God, I'm an asshole.

He was both stricken and horribly relieved to have that talk behind them. She deserved nothing less than honesty, and he'd given her the truth. But it felt wrong, as though he was reciting his lines out of habit rather than conviction. Could he possibly want more than friendship with Daisy?

Confused, he decided to let it ride, for now. They took a quick, steamy shower together, managing plenty of kissing and sucking and another orgasm, before they finished and got dressed. As he whipped up breakfast, he paused in the act of flipping the bacon.

His lovers didn't stay for breakfast. Ever. Yet here he was, cooking the second meal for a lady in less than twenty-four hours.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing. Thinking about the case,” he lied.

“Me, too. I was just wondering whether the four missing people have more in common than the club. The club angle seems too simple. There's always more to a story, right?”

“True. Well, if there's another connection, either Chris will find it or we will.”

They ate companionably, the awkwardness of their earlier conversation dissipated in light of their coming undercover work. Shane waved a piece of bacon at her.

“Figure we might as well make a plan before you leave. Are we hitting the club today?”

“Sure. What time?”

“Around three? That seems like a normal time for a couple to drop by for an afternoon of whatever the hell they do.”

“We need a story, other than our identities,” she said. “Do you play tennis or golf?”

He wrinkled his nose. “Are you kidding? Not even if somebody paid me.”

She laughed. “Then we'll say we're there for relaxation. To use the pool, sauna. Or . . . a massage!”

“A swim and sauna sounds good, but I don't know about the massage thing.” Dubiously, he studied her excited expression.

“A massage is perfect! We know members are drawn into the group somehow, so what if the spa area is how the leaders are making contact? What's more sensual than someone rubbing your body? They drop a hint while working us over, make some innuendo. That way they can discreetly find out if we're receptive. If we're not, they back off and in come the next clients.”

“It's a great theory,” he mused. “And it would mean the group doesn't have to troll for like minds in the lifestyle—their potential members come right to them. Daisy, you're a genius!”

She blushed. “It just makes sense. Should I call and make us appointments before we go?”

“I suppose so.” He grimaced. “Looks like I'm about to get my first massage.”

And with any luck, the last.

•   •   •

Mr. and Mrs. Shane Lansing arrived at Ashwood Swim and Racquet Club at precisely two thirty. They had just enough time for a tour of the facility before their host escorted them down a long, ornate hallway to the spa—where they would partake in a
couples
massage. People really did that kind of shit? Apparently so.

With an effort, Shane schooled his expression into what he hoped appeared amiable and adventurous. As opposed to irritated and anxious. The host—a man named Rafael—chattered away like a squirrel on speed about every amenity the palace had to offer while Shane did his best to listen. By the time they arrived at the spa's check-in desk, he was positive his brain was bleeding.

“Well, here we are. I'll leave you two to enjoy your massage,” he sang with a wink.

Shane managed not to curl his lip. “Thanks.”

“Bye, Rafey! You've been super helpful!”

Rafey
beamed, completely taken in by Daisy's ditzy-blonde act. When the man turned to leave, the perky spa receptionist chimed in.

“Welcome! What a cute couple!” the brunette chirped. “This is your first time at Ashwood?”

“We're new members,” Daisy squealed with glee. “It's sooo fabulous!”

“I know!”

God save me.

The brunette—Sandy, according to her name tag—consulted her paper. “I see you two have a couples massage at three with Giorgio and Ivana.”

Seriously? There was no way in hell those were their real names.
Be perky, Shane
.
You're happy as a clam to be here, waiting to get hit on and lured into an orgy.
Or something.

“You're going to
so
totally love it,” Sandy went on. “Just fill out these forms and give them back to me before we get started.” She handed each of them a clipboard and a pen.

They found seats in the wide lobby area. Shane leaned over and in a mock falsetto gushed, “Oh my gawd! This is sooo awesome!”

“Shh!” Daisy kicked him in the shin.

“Ow.”

“Hush, idiot,” she hissed. “You want to blow this before we get started?”

“I've got something you can blow.”

“Stop pouting. The quicker we can get in, the faster we can figure out what's going on.”

She was right. “Sorry. I'm just way out of my depth here.”

“So am I. But when we pick up on the trail we're after, it'll be worth it.”

“Provided the trail ends here,” he pointed out. Recalling their earlier conversation, he couldn't help but think the four missing subjects connected somewhere besides the club. He hoped Chris would be able to unearth something solid.

After they turned in their clipboards with the forms attached, Sandy showed them through a pair of glass doors and down a hallway that was dim and quiet. Next they were shown into a room that was even more dim than the hallway. Soft music was playing, something with flutes, and a tiny fountain on the counter burbled with water over stones.

“Just strip and put your clothes over there,” Sandy directed. “Then lie down on the tables, on your stomachs. There are sheets at the end to cover up with. Any questions? Have fun!”

She breezed out, leaving them staring at each other. “You first,” Daisy said.

“Nope. We're doing this at the same time.”

They stripped. It was a little awkward, but not as much as he feared. In truth, despite his bitching he was looking forward to getting his tired muscles worked by a professional, something he'd never had done before. It was just this couples thing that had him a bit weirded out. That and the possibility that their bait would reel in the fish.

Resigned, he climbed naked on top of one of the tables that looked like an expensive gurney. It was soft and warmed by an internal heater, and felt really good. Grabbing the sheet, he positioned himself on his stomach and got comfortable while Daisy did the same. It was a shame when she brought up the sheet, covering that pretty skin.

“This feels nice,” she said.

“It does. But that fountain thing is going to make me have to take a piss.”

“Good God, you're such a
guy
. Can't you just enjoy this while we can?”

“You know what they say about casting pearls before swine.”

“You got that right.”

A quiet knock sounded on the door and then opened. Lifting his head, Shane watched a man and woman pad into the room. He wasn't shocked to see that they were both good-looking. Giorgio was tall and dark-haired, and appeared sort of Mediterranean. Ivana was a strawberry blonde with big boobs, a small waist, and a brilliant smile on her wide mouth. A mouth no doubt made for pleasuring a man. If the glint in her eyes as she met Shane's gaze was any indication, she wouldn't be opposed to doing just that.

“Welcome,” Giorgio said softly, as though not wanting to disturb the peaceful atmosphere. “This is your fist time?”

“As a couple, yes,” Daisy confirmed. “My husband has never had a massage, but being the
adventurous
man he is, he couldn't
wait
.”

Shane silently congratulated his temporary partner for using just the right amount of innuendo. He didn't miss the heated look the two massage therapists exchanged, and Giorgio's almost imperceptible nod.

The pair made ready with their oils and Ivana moved to Shane's side while Giorgio went to work on Daisy. Smart to divide and conquer, he thought, making sure they were each worked on by the opposite sex. Ivana pulled back Shane's sheet to expose him all the way to the top of his ass. Then she poured oil on her hands and started to work on his shoulders. He couldn't help the groan of pure pleasure that escaped.

“Good?” He could only make a satisfied noise. “Why hasn't such an adventurous man had a massage before now?”

“Too busy pursuing . . . other delights.”

Her laugh was husky, fingers strong. “I'll bet. Do you and your pretty wife pursue those delights together?”

She sure wasn't wasting any time. At the table nearby, Giorgio was kneading Daisy's shoulders as well. Her eyes were closed in bliss.

“Sometimes,” he replied. “We enjoy all sorts of
physical
activities.”

“Do you?” she purred. “Interesting.”

Her hands worked downward, sending spirals of happiness to every nerve ending. When she her palms skimmed his ass and she began to massage his glutes, he was helpless to keep himself from hardening against the table underneath. He would dare any man not to physically react under the circumstances. Ivana chuckled as though she knew, and kept going. High on his thighs, close to the danger zone. Brushing on the border of impropriety. One inch and she'd be touching his balls, which were heavy and aching.

“You're a beautiful man, Mr. Lansing.”

“Shane, please,” he managed. “And thank you.”

“Tell me about these activities you and your wife enjoy together.”

“We love to make new friends. Especially those who share our desires.” There. He'd put their cards on the table. Maybe he'd moved too fast, but if they didn't get this over with, he was going to mortify himself by coming all over the table, no matter who was watching.

“Your desires, hmm? You like to play with others?” Giorgio inquired, doing Daisy's feet.

“Oh, yes,” she answered, voice husky. “But we usually have to visit some far-away resort to satisfy our needs.”

“Lucky for you both, that's no longer true,” Ivana said.

Shane squirmed, needing release. “How so?”

“Giorgio and I run a group here at club, made up of sophisticated, likeminded people like yourselves. I'll leave a card on the counter and if you're interested, join us tonight at eight. If not, no worries.”

“Thank you. We'll definitely think about it.”

They had their fish. The rest of the massage passed in glorious torture. His rod refused to wither, and he was mortified when Ivana had him turn over onto his back and his erection made a tent in the sheet. But he had to pretend his arousal was nothing new since he was supposed to be sexually free-spirited. The entire time Ivana was ministering to him, she cooed like a dove as she spoke, making soft noises and movements that heightened his desire to the point of pain.

He worried that she'd actually touch him. Stroke him. Because if she did, he'd go off like a rocket whether he wanted to or not. But she must've valued her job enough not to cross that line, assuming the fun would be had later tonight, when she and Giorgio reeled in their new couple.

“Was that nice?” she asked, wiping her hands on a towel.

“Yes, more than.” The answer was sincere.

“Good. The card is on the counter. Show up if you both want, no pressure. Dress and come out when you're ready and we'll have a bottle of water for each of you.”