TAKING OVER TROFIM (Dominion of Brothers series Book 4) (22 page)

“May I ask her another question?”

“Certainly.” Trenton waved Katianna to come up in his lap, his arms instantly wrapping around her and he kissed her cheek when she sat down.

“Did you want him to spank you?” Shay directed his question to the woman even as she shed the bratty expression she had a moment ago.

Her face nearly flooded with color right away and she rolled her lips a few times as if trying to not laugh with embarrassment. “I forgot to say no to that too.” She finally to said.

“So you don’t like it?” Shay pushed.

She shrugged then yielded to something that was clearly still hard to admit to. “I wouldn’t say that. At first, I was shocked and the rebellious
oh hell no I’m not a child
stuff ran through my head as I kicked and screamed, but—” she paused taking in a deep breath and blushed a little more, and then her gaze went to Trenton who wasn’t just watching her, he was adoring her with his eyes. Whatever nervousness she felt vanished. Just like that. “Something happens in those few moments. Even when it’s a punishment, something inside lets go and the body relaxes and cries
yes I needed that
or
yes thank you for taking me over the edge of bliss
.” She planted a kiss on Trenton’s lips coming back with a deep warm smile before looking at Shay. “The funny thing is, I’m a writer of erotica and I am still trying to find the right words to explain that phenomena.”

“No, thank you. I think you just did. But what would happen if you hadn’t learned to like it or accept it rather? Then what? You suffer through it because you forgot to make it a hard rule?”

“Not at all.” Trenton answered, his arms drawing Katianna to lean back on him, “As her Master, it’s my position to know not just what she wants or enjoys, but also what she can’t endure or what might endanger her. If the act of spanking brought on so much pain or fear that it was unpleasant, I would stop. There is no pleasure in it for me if she gets none for herself or becomes frightened of me.”

Shay let out a sigh of relief and leaned over, kissing his Trofim, “Still it all seems so much. I mean, how do you just start? There are so many things about it.”

~  *  ~

“You start off small.” Trenton assured them. The night was going well. Shay was asking questions and thinking them through. Trofim was hiding behind him, but that was a natural behavior as well even if they weren’t aware of it. “Think back if you recall ever having smacked Trofim on the ass during sex before.” Trenton returned his comments to Shay. The young doctor to be was well maintained and he closed his eyes a moment to allow a memory of something enjoyable to pass over his features.
That was a yes
. “And how did he react when you did that?”

“He stopped squirming around as much and let me take him up to the edge as I had intended.” Shay answered.

“And how did you feel? Do you remember how your hand felt?”

The corners of Shay’s mouth curled up as his eyes stared down to some distance time on the carpet. “I think I repeated it a few times until he came.”

“Then this makes for a good example. Start by exploring one thing at a time, learn about it, acknowledge together how you both felt and reacted. Then decide if it’s enjoyable for you both, then move on to something new. There is no need to rush through to try and experience everything that first night. Say for example, would it turn you on Trofim, if your Dom spanked you right now?”

Trofim’s eyes suddenly grew wide and he looked out the glass to the dance floor, “You mean where everyone can see?”

“They can’t see us in here. Only we can see them, and that does add an element of exhibitionism and voyeurism to it, doesn’t it?” Trenton’s words slipped out in a deliberately salaciously, teasing tone that had Trofim blushing, unable to answer directly. To Trenton it screamed
yes, but too shy or embarrassed to say it out loud.
And in their fledgling foray into the world of Bdsm, assumptions could not be permissible. “Shay’s ultimate job is to encourage you to say what it is you want or don’t want for that matter. You can’t leave it to him to guess, as there is a fifty-fifty chance he will guess wrongly. A Dom works his subbie to give in to that which they already want, they just need someone they can trust to deliver them to that moment of abandoned bliss when they finally surrender to it. But it takes a considerable amount of open communication to reach that level of understanding.”

“I’m just not too sure I want to hurt him. I don’t think I can go through with it.” Shay’s expressions flinched uncomfortably with the notion.

“And that is perfectly acceptable.”

“Wait, isn’t that what Bdsm is all about? Pain?”

“No. Not all. Pain is only a factor when the couple enjoy a bit or a lot of pain. The SM partnership. But not everyone likes pain.”

“Won’t that make others think down on us for not being into pain?”

“It doesn’t matter what others think or what they are doing in their relationship, that’s theirs, this is yours. The only things that needs to be addressed and understood are the things the two of you want.”

~  *  ~

The conversation carried on occasionally venturing off to other side topics like the club or how the Dominus got so involved. How did it effect his daily life? Until finally Shay was out of questions and they somehow got to the topic of colognes and Trofim’s latest modeling campaign that was for one of Katianna’s favorite fragrances.

Shay turned his attention to Trofim, who was quietly listening, still wearing a good amount of the blush from the earlier questions.
Damn, did he look good in a collar
.

Trofim was suddenly looking at him, “So what do you think?”

Out of nowhere, Shay felt the urge and he reached up, catching the collar’s attached ring with a finger and yanked Trofim to his lips for a quick kiss, then growled against them his ode he’d made to Trofim before, “If my sweetheart wants romance, I will woo him to the end of the earth. If my lover wants it rough, I will nip, lick and ride him with my cock so deep inside him until sore because his favorite word.”

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

CHAPTER TWELVE

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

Harper had spent several days snooping around. But he found no charges against Benjamin Wilks. Not even a reprimand or traffic citation. It seemed at first he’d found a dead end, that was, until he backtracked to see just who was involved in some of the charges that had been placed on both Pyotr and Pavle Laszkovi’s heads five years ago. It didn’t take long after that to spot a trend. One that started locally but over the years grew in ambition to the desk of the newest Justice of the Supreme Court, Judge John Earl Sooter. And it just so happened that he lived right here in New York. A man that high up was always surrounded with shady individuals that could make the most innocent man look guilty of most anything. But Harper wasn’t interested in what the surface looked like, he needed to find the damning evidence.

Five years ago, Sooter held seat on the appellate court but was eager to climb the ladder. The money trail seemed too obvious, right out in the open. Campaign images of Sooter posing with one of the corporate owners from a gas light and oil monster company. Then within the first two months after John took the bench, five massive law suit cases against that same company were ruled unwarranted and the plaintiffs denied reward. It was ridiculous how blatantly evident it was. A politician’s
name your cliché
list, Sooter was obviously kowtowing to the big bucks. The fact it wasn’t all over the squawk box made it reek of money being passed further under the table. Enough to pay off all the hands involved.

Harper stopped scrolling, twisting in the uncomfortable hard plastic chair at the microfilm viewer. He glanced around taking in his surroundings, something twitched at the hairs in the back of his neck. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time, not even the night Katianna had been snatched. A lethargic sixth sense he’d brutishly punished himself over endlessly for not having sensed trouble coming. He’d vowed to his brothers he would not let his mind slip into such a dark sleep ever again. He wasn’t certain he could ever return to his once love for the kinks, but he would not distance himself from his family because of it.
Never again
.

He was awake now— wide awake and something was wrong.
Too obvious
.

Students, attorneys, a variety of legal aids, a bailiff walked by. A custodian came in, emptied a waste basket and then disappeared down the hall.

Harper glanced around once more, then licked his lips.
Time for a new job
.

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

It was late, the courthouse building empty, save for himself and a few other night stewards and a night watch who was sound asleep at the security desk.

Harper had to laugh about it. They could not have made it any easier for him.

He’d borrowed a uniform and made an ID badge back at his office before returning to have a closer look at some of the files in New York Court of Appeals Chief Judge Ulysses Leverette’s chambers. The name had shown up several times in Sooter’s records. Case after case from Leverette was handed up to Sooter. Lawsuits against corporations turned down repeatedly. But it wasn’t the only thing that was showing up as odd. Some odd criminal charges were floating up looking for appeals and every one of them turned down. While others were sent up and then vanished from court records. It’d be one thing if it was just the average 60% of them but this was every one of the cases sent up specifically from Judge Leverette to Sooter. The real question was who was playing who?

Harper paused to listen as he heard one of the service carts roll by. The judge’s chambers were still dark and he’d locked the door back behind him but that didn’t mean someone else might have a key. The orderly continued on and Harper turned his pen light back on and continued to leaf through the files, looking for anything to jump out at him. While the trails of certain cases were strange, it wasn’t likely any worse than most any other judge, but Harper’s gut prodded him to keep looking. There was something he hadn’t spotted yet. He finished and closed the file drawer. He glanced around the office, rubbing at his chin to figure out where or what that might be. He’d already searched the four file cabinets in the office, coming up empty.
So what else was there
?

He went over to the desk, sat in the chair, then began feeling under the desk for any hidden buttons or whatever his hair-raising feeling was wanting him to find.
Nothing. Fucking nothing. It made no sense
.

He threw himself back in the high back leather chair and spun around. He wasn’t even looking, just abandoning his wits to absolute frustration, when something out of place caught his eye. He pivoted back around to look closer, leaning forward toward the wall unit of bookcases behind the desk. A corner of paper sticking out from—
under
— the trim of the facade paneling!

Harper felt along the framed edges, then pushed, finding it gave a bit, then a spring pushed it out.
A hidden slider shelf!
And as he pulled it further out he found it was stuffed with files kept hidden from anyone who had access. “I’ll be damned.” He whispered.

Harper walked his fingers down the tabs but the name that jumped out at him chilled him to the bone. He pulled the file letting several others spill out around his feet. He didn’t care, he spread the selected file out open over the desk, flicked on the desk lamp and scoured sheet after sheet. What he found disturbed him more than any of the things that had slowly began to darken his soul over the past few years.

Reports, time logs, pictures, records of employment. Even bank activities had been collected. Surveillance reports and military records were included. It was the very thing people feared with the NSA conspiracies about spying on its own citizens.

Every slip of paper enraged him. It also gave him some renewed purpose in life. Protect his family of brothers.

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

There was a soft knock, then Trenton pushed up as Harper stepped into his office. A stir of emotions locked up in his jaw and his eyes flicked to Katianna sitting on the sofa with her laptop.

“Kat, why don’t you go hang out with Deez for a bit.” Trenton gently suggested to her, though his eyes watched Harper.

She glanced first at him then to Harper and back again. Her expression gave her away knowing it meant there was trouble. She’d caught on fast that when she was excused it meant he didn’t want to frighten her. How he wished he could find another way. But he knew what he’d sent Harper out to look for and without word his mouse slipped out.

Trenton closed the file he was working on and sat back in his chair as Harper took a seat across from him then waited to hear what he’d found.

“Well?” He asked when Harper didn’t say anything right away.

Harper shook his head a moment, “Wilks isn’t just your run of the mill, tea bagger politician. He’s in deep with some heavy hands intent on cleansing this country of
unwanteds
. The money runs like blood with these people and Wilks is struggling to maintain position as a well fed public puppet man.”

“Which would explain the strong need to keep his gay son out of the known.” Trenton added flatly.

“I looked into the bank accounts. A lot of money has gone into restoring his political career, and with far more going out than coming in. Including Shay’s inheritance fund. In fact, there isn’t any. The coffers are already used up. His father has already spent it all. It’s like a pyramid scheme the way the money moves. Only for Wilks, it hasn’t paid back very well.”