On Her Master's Secret Service (24 page)

And he’d been a complete pussy. He’d let his fear rule him. He’d let his need to give in to his guilt push away the most precious thing in his life. She’d been practically screaming for him and he’d been in stasis.

He wasn’t going to fail her again. She talked about some new Alex, but she needed the old one. She needed the real Dom that had been sleeping inside him for so long.

She needed the Dom, but with a twist. He’d tried to shelter her before, but now he knew she was more than a sweet thing to protect. She was a partner.

He smacked her ass with the flat of his hand. His Eve could take a hell of a lot more than what was about to happen here. He let his guilt slide away. They had a job to do, and he was suddenly looking forward to it because she was here with him.

“This is the heart of BDSM, the connection between Dom and submissive. She is here to serve me. Right now, it pleases me to discipline her.” He gave her five quick smacks, the sound cracking through the air. A pretty pink immediately flushed across her skin.

Every eye was on them and Sean moved in. He was quiet, moving with a negligent grace. His hands were quick, sliding in and out and moving on to the next man while every single one of them, including Chazz and Jesse, kept their eyes on Eve’s ass.

Another quick five slaps before he reached into his bag and pulled out a deerskin flogger. The falls were soft and supple, a work of art, alternating dark brown and flesh colors.

“What exactly is that, Master A?” The second of the men leaned across the table as though trying to get a better look at the toy in his hand. Sean took the time to lift the idiot’s wallet.

“This is a flogger.” He turned and brutally brought the implement down on Eve’s ass.

It was perfect because it made a harsh sound but the deerskin falls were buttery soft. He could strike her all day and she would just sigh at the massaging effect. But there was no way to mistake the men’s interest. They believed he was assaulting his slave, and it was doing something for them.

Over and over he brought the flogger down on her flesh, his wrists moving in a familiar pattern. He made a figure eight with his hand, carefully placing each blow though he knew damn well he wasn’t hurting her. Eve was very likely getting frustrated. His sweet sub liked more of a bite than he was giving her, but he needed her with him and not lost in subspace. He reached down, sliding his hand under the neck of her blouse to find her nipple. She wasn’t wearing a bra so it was easy to tweak her breast and make sure she stayed with him.

There would be time enough for her to slip into subspace later when he fucked her hard. Yeah, he was going to do that and soon. He was done denying them both.

He worked her, going through the motions, the pattern familiar and comforting. This was just a warm up, but it was all he needed for this very vanilla crowd. Eve’s ass was a pretty pink, a nice sheen making the flesh slightly shiny. So fucking hot.

His dick was throbbing, just begging him to move on. She was tied down, and he could have her any way he wanted. He could order her to open her mouth and she would. He could force his dick in and out, sliding and slipping against that hot tongue of hers. She would take his come. He was off the fucking leash he’d been on for five years.

But he restrained himself because they were working.

He placed his hand on the globes of her ass. They were warm from the flogging. “This is the beginning of our scene. If we were actually performing, I would move her to a St. Andrew’s Cross. Of course, it would be necessary for my slave to wear a thong and nipple covers. We could run into trouble with public nudity.”

Chazz frowned, but his eyes were still on Eve’s ass. “We can be a private club and then she can be naked.”

Chazz was an idiot. Kristen had picked her club well. As far as his research had gone, Evans had clubs like this across the country, but she’d picked this one because Chazz was reckless. He was a small-time crook who’d made some big-time connections, but he didn’t have a brain in his head.

“If we’re a private club, how the hell are you going to effectively move our friends’ product?”

The Jersey boy shook his head as though trying to understand what he’d just said.

Asshole
Narcoterrorist
Number Two, however, seemed to understand immediately. “We need a crowded club. We need people to sell to, but I still don’t see how this is going to work. Why would we need some sex show?”

Number One concurred. “It was quite lovely, and I can see a whole industry attached to it. The Master could properly train our whores, but I don’t see how this helps us move product.”

Product being drugs. He was right. They were moving drugs through the clubs and funding their organizations.

“I,
uhm
, I think it’s just a unique idea,” Chazz said. “
Mikey
likes it. It was really his idea to go with the kinky theme.”

Alex smiled, showing just a little hint of teeth, a predatory expression. “Gentlemen, if you would please check your wallets.”

Quizzical expressions came across their faces and four sets of hands immediately went for their jacket pockets.

The Middle Eastern man frowned ferociously. “You bastard.” His expression cleared, his dark eyes rolling. “Ah. Very effective. Could I have my wallet back now?”

Sean stepped forward, placing the wallets back on the table. “Of course, gentlemen. I promise this was for show only.”

“Show?” Chazz was getting red in the face as he looked through his wallet.

Idiot.
Alex placed a hand on Eve’s ass, loving the connection even as he stared down a group of hostiles, Chazz included. The terrorist group seemed to have caught on. They were talking quietly amongst themselves.

“Yeah, boss,” Jesse said with a nod, proving he was smarter than Chazz. “You know. It’s what you planned all along. You were going to show our guests the power of having a nightly show.”

“Unlike your regular nightclub, at least once or twice a night, all eyes will be on the stage,” Alex explained. “No one will be able to look away.”

One of the South Americans sighed. “I thought this was a stupid idea, but you’re right. We can move most of the product very quietly this way, with almost no prying eyes. We could use the…what did you call the cocktail waitresses?”

“The
submissives
,” Alex prompted. “The subs would be able to move through the crowd making your nightly drops. The buyers place their orders with the bouncers and pay up front. The subs deliver the packages during the show.”

Chazz nodded as though he’d been in on the idea the whole time. “That way we keep the package and the money separated. And the girls will be trained what to do if they get caught. Master A can make it so they won’t ever give up the operation. Yeah, this was always the plan. My plan. I’m pitching the whole thing to the boss when he comes in. He’s going to love it.”

“The owner of this club is very smart, as you can see.” Alex laid it on thick. The last thing he needed was Chazz to think he was going to try to take credit. “It’s why I decided to throw my lot in with this club. The scene you just saw was just a teaser. I can make the scene last as long as we need. I hope you can see that this is to your advantage.”

“I can certainly see how she’s to my advantage,” Jake said, leering at Eve’s ass.

Maybe Jake was playing his role a little too well. Alex had a sudden need to punch his friend.

Alex untied the ropes that bound her, and Eve slid gracefully to the floor back in slave pose.

“What do you say to your Master, pet?” Alex asked.

“Thank you for the discipline, Master. Your pet is very happy to serve.” Her head was down, her voice a soft monotone, but he caught her lips curling up in a seductive little grin. Her long hair hid it from the others. That grin was meant for him and him alone, and Alex’s cock pulsed in his slacks.

He reached down and grasped her hand. Eve stumbled a little, her knee seeming to go out on her and she fell against his chest. He forced his expression to go dark. “Go sit down. Your lack of grace disappoints me. On your knees by my chair.”

He wanted to lift her in his arms, but everyone was watching. Eve moved to the chair he’d been sitting in and sank to her knees next to it.

Chazz approached, his hand out. “Very nice, Master A. I think that plan went well.”

“Yes, I believe you’ve made your point,” the first gentleman said.

Jake was making his move because Alex had more than one point to make. “I know I’m interested in being involved.”

“Who is that man?” The second gentleman asked, staring at Jake like he was a bug crawling across the floor.

“He’s just a friend. He’s in the security business. I’m always looking for decent bouncers.” Chazz frowned as though he finally realized that bringing his drinking buddy from the night before into a business meeting was a bad idea.

“And I’m always looking for a pretty whore,” Jake said just before he reached down and put a hand on Eve.

Even though they’d planned this, Alex practically saw red. He crossed the space between them in two long strides and then he nearly lifted Jake up by his shirt, his fist coming back and cracking against Jake’s jaw.

One punch. The first one had to be good. The rest were all for show. Alex had Jake on the ground, his fists hitting Jake’s gut lightly, but the sounds Jake made were pure theater. He howled and moaned and pretended to fight back.

Finally, Sean pulled him off Jake, but his point had been made. Everyone was watching him, their eyes moving from his face to the blood on Jake’s.

“You’re a complete psycho,” Jake shouted, rolling away.

Yeah, that was the impression he’d been trying to make.

Alex stared down at Jake, his voice a low threat. “The next time you touch my property, I will kill you. Do you fucking understand me? I’ll take a knife to your gut and you won’t go fast. You’ll go slow and be in as much pain as I can give you. I protect my property and my friends. You get the fuck out of here. You don’t belong here. The boss tried to show you some friendship and this is how you repay him, by screwing up his meeting.”

Alex turned and saw red again. Eve was at the feet of one of the fucking terrorists, her arms around his legs, his hand on her head.

It looked like his next fight would be real. No pulling punches this time.

Eve planted the device she’d taken from Alex, affixing it to her target’s shoe. She’d made a careful study of their shoes. Alex was wrong. Placing it inside a jacket was a bad idea and none of the men were carrying briefcases. The little sticker-like tracking device would stand out on a cell phone, and that seemed to be how these men communicated and kept notes.

A jacket could be easily removed, cleaned, and the tracking signal lost. Most men changed their jackets. But not their shoes.

She leaned over as though the violence was terrifying and she was hoping the man above her would protect her. It gave her a chance to smooth the device down. Of the three men she had to choose from, this one’s shoes were well worn. They were black Louis Vuitton loafers that had subtle creases from long wear. The Middle Eastern man’s shoes were black, too, but they were new and had an obvious shine to them. They were a no go. A quick shoeshine at the airport would dump the device. The man she’d chosen had dull shoes. He didn’t shine them. They were perfect. He wasn’t leaving those shoes behind any time soon.

She felt a deep sense of accomplishment even as the man’s hand came down on her head.

Damn it.
She hadn’t thought about the fact that Alex had just pretended to beat the holy hell out of the last man who had touched her. Maybe he wasn’t looking and she could move away.

She brought her eyes up. Alex looked like a bull ready to charge. She had seconds before he completely blew up and screwed with their cover.

Eve crawled to him, the wood floors scraping against her knees, but she didn’t dare leap to her feet. “I was so frightened, Master. Please forgive me.”

She wrapped her arms around his legs. Every muscle in his body was tight with tension.
Please let it go. Please let it go.

His hand tangled in her hair. “You aren’t where I put you. Bad pet. That’s fifty. Go through the kitchens to the locker room. Clean yourself up and wait for me. You’re obviously not fit for company, you disobedient brat.”

She would take it. He was banishing her, but it was probably a good thing. She started to get to her feet. When she was in the kitchens, she could process what had gone on and be ready to talk about her observations later.

“On your knees, brat.”

Oh, she was going to give him an earful about that. She kept her face placid and crawled along the floor, well aware that her ass was very likely hanging out. Well, he could just watch her go because after that he wasn’t getting any.

She crawled to the kitchens, resenting the hell out of him even as she knew damn well why he’d done it.

The minute she crawled through the swinging doors, Kristen was practically on top of her.

“I need to talk to you and your Master.” Kristen kept her voice low. Several servers and kitchen staff were moving around, getting the next course ready.

“I have to go to the locker rooms.” And someone so needed to clean this floor. She was going to have to have a serious talk with Sean about the state of his tile. Sure it looked all perfectly clean when one was standing up, but from her vantage point, she could see the dirt.
Ick.
Another reason to be pissed off at Alex.

She was pissed off at Alex. Like really and truly pissed off at Alex and ready to throw a hissy fit the minute she was able to. She kind of wanted to call him a bastard and tell him that if he ever wanted to see the inside of her vagina again, he better come crawling.

She was mad. A little kernel of happiness lit her up. They had tiptoed around each other for years, politeness their refuge against any strong emotion. She’d hidden her irritation with him and he’d been a frustrating well of patience with her.

It wasn’t healthy. Couples in love fought. Couples in love got irritated and ranted and raved at each other.