Re/Bound (Doms of the FBI Book 1) (20 page)

He selected a pair of black slacks and a white dress shirt. In keeping with his persona, he left the tie at home. Darcy might think he was trying too hard.

His mother greeted him with a raised eyebrow and a tight hug. “You look nice tonight. My birthday isn’t for another two months. What’s the occasion?”

Returning her hug, he picked her up and kissed her cheek. He moved them a little farther into the foyer so the front door could close. “No occasion, Mom. I have a meeting tonight.”

“Donna.” His father’s voice boomed through the house. “Is that M.J.? Did he bring some antacid?”

Mario Junior, his older brother, had the dubious distinction of going through life being called a name most people, thanks to Spiderman, associated with Mary Jane.

“It’s Malcolm.”

Footsteps thumped across the wood. Malcolm tried to release his mother, but she held tight.

“Honey, let the boy go. He’s staying for dinner. You can fawn over him all evening and make your other kids jealous.” Mario pried his wife’s hands from around his younger son’s neck.

Donna pursed her lips in sour disapproval at both her husband and her son. “He spends his days consorting with drug dealers and murderers. I sleep better at night knowing that if something horrible happens, I held him tight the last time I saw him.”

This wasn’t a discussion he wanted to have again. From the first day he expressed an interest in law enforcement, his mother hadn’t approved. She thought he would be a skinny computer geek, forever stuck behind a desk. Then his muscles had bulked up and he had been selected for undercover work. She worried constantly.

His mother eyed him dubiously. “And he’s leaving after dinner for a meeting. That makes me nervous, Mario.” She smacked Malcolm’s arm, hard. “What happens when you meet a good woman and you want to have kids? Would you put her through this kind of stress? It’ll destroy your marriage, Malcolm.”

For the first time, Malcolm thought seriously about one of the many questions his mother liked to throw at him. His profession would likely destroy his chances with Darcy, but for completely different reasons. He had to give her reasons to look past his deception. Tonight was just one step in a series of steps he would take to ensnare her heart.

Mario put a stop to Donna’s overbearing mothering. “Donna, that’s between Malcolm and whoever he marries. It’s none of our business.”

“Mom, you promised pancetta, not a guilt trip. I like my job. It feels good to get the bad guys off the streets and make the world a better, safer place for the people I love.” He slung his arm around her waist and guided her through the living room to the kitchen. “Can I help with anything?”

She shook her head, muttered something under her breath, and pointed at a cupboard. “Help your sister set the table. We’ll eat when M.J. and my grandbabies get here.”

An hour later, Malcolm helped his sister clear the table. No matter what charges of favoritism were leveled in light of his mother’s melodrama, he and Katrina always got stuck with the cleanup while M.J. and his wife regaled their parents with stories about their children. The topics of conversation, Malcolm’s two nephews, wrestled and ran through the house without regard to property because they knew they could do no wrong in their grandparents’ eyes. They avoided the kitchen because they knew neither Malcolm nor Katrina would put up with their rambunctiousness.

Katrina possessed the same dark looks as Malcolm, but she had the softness of femininity to add the touch of beauty to what could have been a harshly angled face. She peered at Malcolm, her face scrunched up as she considered something.

“Mal? You got a date tonight?”

He took a stack of dirty plates from her hands and put them under the faucet. “I’m working tonight.”

Once Katrina had a scent, she didn’t let up. It made her a really good lawyer. “You smell awfully good for work. Will Keith be there?”

Malcolm sighed. Katrina had nursed a crush on Keith since she had been a senior in high school, and Keith had freaked out when the then seventeen-year-old girl had tried to kiss him. “Trina, he’s not interested in you.”

“Don’t change the subject.” She snapped a towel at him to pay him back for the comment about Keith. He let it slide, but it conjured an image of Darcy’s naked body writhing under his single tail that nearly made him lose track of the conversation. “So Keith won’t be there to keep you on your leash. I take it she’s smart and submissive if you’re willing to bend the rules to see her when you don’t have to.”

“I’m not bending any rules.” Malcolm growled and hoped Katrina would let it go. He wasn’t bending the rules. There were no real rules for what he did. Guidelines existed, but those were subject to the agent’s judgment. “It’s a meeting, not a date.”

A date implied they had set it up ahead of time. A meeting meant they would meet. More might happen. Then again, it might not. He scrubbed food stuck to a plate and handed the dish to Katrina to put in the dishwasher.

“You’re a horrible liar.”

Malcolm narrowed his eyes, but he didn’t say anything. In point of fact, he was an excellent liar. That was part of the reason he had been selected to work undercover. However Katrina came with a built-in lie detector that manifested as intuition. Malcolm utilized the same skill in the field, so he knew there was no explaining the sixth sense. That’s how he knew Darcy wasn’t complicit in Yataines’s disappearance. Of course, Keith had little faith in intuition. His dogged insistence on hard evidence led to convictions, so Malcolm wasn’t about to argue.

When he left an hour later, Katrina used that excuse to exit as well. He walked her down the street to her car.

She punched his arm lightly. “I’m sure you’ll knock her off her feet. And then you’ll tie her up and make her beg.”

“Trina.” He held up his hands to ward off more affectionate punches. She was one of two people, his mother being the other, who could get away with hitting him and not being hit back.

Snorting, she clicked the button to unlock her door. “Mal, I work for the prosecutor’s office. I’ve been informed about your case. I saw her picture, and I know your type. Be careful, okay?”

Instead of reassuring his sister, he obfuscated. “So you agree I am a good liar.”

“No. You like her.”

He set his jaw hard and looked Katrina in the eyes. “She’s innocent. If I’m not mistaken, she’s a target and a victim. I’m going to nail the bastard who did this. I’ll serve him up to you on a silver platter. A guy that rich has to have at least one of those. Maybe even a gold platter. We’ll see.”

Katrina shook her head. “You got it bad, big brother.” She kissed his cheek and wiped away her lip balm with her thumb. “When this is all over, I hope I get to meet her outside of my office.”

When Malcolm returned to his car a few minutes later, he breathed a sigh of relief. At least Katrina knew when to stop pushing. He also harbored high hopes that his family would eventually get to meet Darcy. They would adore her instantly.

The drive to the Ann Arbor nightclub took nearly forty-five minutes. Five times, Malcolm considered turning back. He didn’t need to entrench himself into her life this deeply in order to break this case, yet he couldn’t stop the possessive and affectionate feelings that filled him whenever he thought of her. He hadn’t seen her since the evening before, when he’d pled family obligations as an excuse for not staying the night.

He paid the cover charge at the door and reflected on the incongruity of ladies getting in for free. If the situation was reversed, he was sure several gender discrimination lawsuits would result.

Lighting in the interior hadn’t brightened in the ten years since he’d last been to the Nectarine. Now that he was inside, he remembered the open floor plan with the circular bar in the center. No smoke lingered in the air, so he had a clear view of the scenery.

It didn’t take long to spot Darcy. She nursed a drink from her seat at a table with mostly empty seats. One man sat with her, and they appeared to be engaged in an animated discussion.

Before jealousy compelled him to do something cavemanlike, another woman swooped in. She put her hand on the man’s shoulder, and the two of them headed to the dance floor. Music pulsed through the room, but the beat didn’t register in Malcolm’s head. He pulled out the chair next to Darcy and sat down before she could tell him the seats were taken.

The warning on her lips died the second she looked up and realized it was him. She beamed with a welcoming smile, and his heart flip-flopped.

“I was hoping you would read between the lines.”

He brushed a kiss over her lips. “I was hoping you left the spaces on purpose.”

She frowned. “I didn’t pull you away from your family, did I?”

“No. I went there first and came here instead of going home to my empty apartment. Seeing you is so much better than dreaming about you.”

A light flush crept up her neck. He wanted to lick that heated skin. The smile returned to her lips. “I’m glad you came. I was about to call a cab and head home. Want to come with me?”

He nodded toward the dance floor. “How about we dance a bit first? I brought something for you.”

Her lips parted, and her pupils dilated with excitement. He loved how she understood his implication. “Does this thing you brought require the removal of my underwear?”

“Yes. Take them off now.”

She opened her mouth, probably to argue or to ask to go to the bathroom for privacy. Tonight he wanted to challenge her modesty.

He halted her question with the pressure of his hand on the side of her head. He slid his thumb over her brow, and then he caressed the edge of her lower lip. Her breathing calmed, and her gaze automatically lowered.

“Do you remember the rules, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And your safe words?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Give me your color.”

“Green, Sir.”

His satisfied smile had everything to do with the way their scripted start both calmed and excited her. He dropped his hand to rest on the back of her chair. “I gave you an order. I expect immediate compliance.”

Her gaze darted around the room, but she slipped her hands under the table and squirmed for a few seconds. Then she pressed her balled-up panties against his pant leg. He didn’t push the fact that she kept it hidden from the general public. He wasn’t much of an exhibitionist.

However he did intend to make her have an orgasm in the middle of this crowd. He deposited her panties in his pocket and withdrew the butterfly from his other one. He loved this remote control stimulator. It vibrated against her clit, and the small protrusion would whet her appetite to have something larger filling her pussy.

Taking her hands in his, he pressed the butterfly into her palms. “Put this on, sweetheart. We’re going to dance. You’re going to come when I tell you to come. For this show of obedience, you will earn ten lashes with the single tail.”

Her gaze lifted. Excitement made her eyes widen and her nostrils flare. “What if I fail?”

He pushed a strand of hair away from her cheek. “Then you have to drop to your knees and blow me in the parking lot. If you succeed, I’ll let you wait until we get home to show your appreciation on your knees.”

Her tongue darted out, and she licked her lips. He knew how much she liked to give head. The things he normally used as punishments—threats of the whip or unrequited oral sex—didn’t work on Darcy. She loved both things. He had been forced to find new punishments. Navigating a D/s relationship with her definitely challenged his creative skills. She dreaded less time with the flogger, but he walked a fine line with that too. As he’d found out that first night, sometimes she needed that kind of stimulation to calm her nerves.

That meant he needed to reassure her tonight’s challenge wasn’t meant as a punishment, which was why he offered a reward for her obedience.

This time she didn’t look around as she bent down and stepped her feet through the straps that would hold the device in place around her thighs. Additionally Malcolm would assist her in keeping it from slipping once they were on the dance floor. She lifted her bottom. One hand disappeared under her skirt. She wiggled and shifted.

“I have lube.” He should have put it on before he handed it to her.

She shot him a look that said she had it under control. “I don’t need lube. I almost came just from the idea you were going to use a single tail on me. If anything, I now have a wet spot on the back of my skirt, Sir.”

He leaned in and kissed her, partly as a reward for her honesty and partly because he couldn’t help himself. He craved the taste of her kiss and the feel of her lips anywhere. His body temperature increased, and his cock responded to her soft acquiescence. Tearing himself away from the kiss, he helped her to her feet.

She took his hand and followed him to the dance floor. The techno beat had nothing on the sensuality of the Latin beat they had enjoyed on their first date, but he could work with it. Once he found a suitable place in the midst of all the dancers, she moved into his embrace, automatically placing her hands on his biceps.

He rewarded her with a kiss and slid his thigh between her legs. “That’ll help keep your butterfly in place.” He didn’t bother to reiterate the rules. If she broke them, he would punish her by keeping her on the edge of orgasm without allowing her to come. Or perhaps he would make her come over and over again. He had yet to find out what truly made her submit.