Dangerous Master (5 page)
Would he fucking touch her? Again? Harder this time? Please?
“Are you suffering yet, Amanda?” he asked as he slowly kissed his way down her body.
Oh, yes, he was going to eat her pussy.
She curled her fingers into his hair, filling each fist, and pushed him lower. “Hell yes.”
“I’m going to make you suffer more.”
“Please, no.”
“Oh, yes.” Now kneeling at her feet, he pressed her knees apart, splaying her thighs as wide as they would go. He blew a stream of air over her swollen tissues, chilling them. The unexpected sensation sent a shiver quaking up her spine. She tried to pull his face into her, but he clamped his hands around her wrists, jerking them out to the sides. “Who is in control, Amanda? You? Or me?”
She knew what he expected, and she was more than happy to answer as he wanted, knowing she would be rewarded. “You are.”
“Put your hands up over your head and don’t move them.”
“Okay.” She rested her clenched hands on the top of the couch cushion and braced herself for bliss.
Bliss came in the form of a light flicker over her clit.
She shook from head to toe. “Ohmygod, yes.”
“You’ve been waiting for that, haven’t you?”
“Yes.”
He did it again, and once more, she trembled all over. Her inner walls clamped tight, and a gush of cream coated her labia, preparing them for the penetration she hoped would come soon.
She had never been so wet, so ready for sex.
The third time, he added a single fingertip, slipping into her tight canal as his tongue danced over her clit, and she almost came. Something inside her snapped. She didn’t give a damn about anything now but what was going on between her legs. She sucked in a deep breath, stretched her thighs even wider apart, and said, “Please, fuck me.”
“Mmmm,” he said over her clit. The vibration buzzed through her entire body, from the soles of her feet to the roots of her hair. “Mmmmm ...”
“I’m going to die.” She tried to thrust her hips up again, but he held her down, applying pressure to the tops of her thighs.
Then he pressed not one but two fingers into her hungry pussy and she screamed. Just as the first wave of her orgasm was about to wash over her, he jerked them out.
“Noooo.” Her eyelids snapped open.
Zane was sitting back with the world’s most wicked smile on his face. “See now?”
Breathless and dizzy, she shook her head and tried to slap her knees back together. He stopped her. “See what?” she asked, her teeth clenched.
“Was that punishment not pleasant? Did I lie?”
She snapped her jaw shut and jerked her hands down to cover her burning pussy. “Is this just a game to you?”
He wedged his body between her knees and caught her wrists in his fists, slamming them back up against the top of the couch. He leaned in until his mouth was almost touching hers. Dammit, did he know how to tease a girl. “No, this isn’t a game, Amanda. None of it.” He released her wrists and straightened up, and suddenly she felt small and vulnerable. His gaze flicked over her body. He licked his lips.
She pulled her knees closed, clamping them against his legs to hide her swollen tissues. Her arms slid down her body, crossing over her breasts.
He shook his head. “Those tits should never be hidden.” He moved away from her. “A drink?”
“No thanks.” She scrambled for her shirt, which was hanging over the arm of the couch, yanking it over her head and pulling it over her still-tingling nipples. While he poured himself a glass of Perrier, she pushed to her feet, her focus on the door.
“Don’t leave yet.”
“I need to go.”
Swiveling, he gave her a look she couldn’t quite read. He extended a hand, offering her a full glass of water. “You should stay for a few minutes. We need to talk.”
“No. Can’t.” Feeling her face flushing, she tottered to the door, pulled it open, and stumbled out into the hallway. He didn’t follow her. Thank God. She took a few moments to get herself together. Once she was fairly certain she wouldn’t trip or stumble from being so wobbly kneed, she headed down the hallway, through the main dungeon, and out into the still, cool evening. She pulled in some much-needed fresh air as she made her way to her car.
That was ...
There were no words to describe tonight.
As she flung herself into her car, she realized that they hadn’t talked about him turning her into the security staff at all the local dungeons. Would he?
Did she care?
Maybe it was time for a career change.
5
“S
he was wearing a red spandex bodysuit, a clown wig, and some Elton John sunglasses when she disappeared,” the petite woman sitting in Mandy’s office said matter-of-factly.
he was wearing a red spandex bodysuit, a clown wig, and some Elton John sunglasses when she disappeared,” the petite woman sitting in Mandy’s office said matter-of-factly.
Mandy scribbled down the description. “Was it Halloween ?”
“No.” Blushing, the woman added, “Grandma Belton became a little eccentric after her stroke in ’02. She said she’s been given another chance at life and wants to live it to the fullest. I say she’s enjoying a second childhood and to hell with what people think. Whatever the case, her eccentricities make for some fun at family gatherings.”
“I’m sure they do.”
Dabbing her teary eyes with a tissue, the client sniffled. “She shot the turkey last Thanksgiving.”
“At least it was fresh. I’ve heard fresh turkey is much better than frozen.”
“No, it was already dead. It was already cooked.”
“Oh.” Mandy scribbled down
Possibly armed and dangerous.
Possibly armed and dangerous.
“The giblets landed in Dad’s hair.”
“Oh, dear.”
“Dad’s hair was blown clear across the room by the blast.”
A very bizarre image of flying giblets and toupees flashed through Mandy’s mind. Changing the subject, she asked, “Did your grandmother have any medical conditions that might contribute to her disappearance? Schizophrenia? Dementia? Alzheimer’s?”
“No. Her mind was as sharp as a tack.”
“Did your grandmother have any friends nearby?”
“Yes.”
That was encouraging. “Do you have their names?”
“I have the names and phone numbers of over a thousand people. That doesn’t include her friends at Thursday night Bingo, or her Facebook and Myspace friends. All total, Grandma had over ten thousand friends.”
Yep, it was time for a career change. Mandy couldn’t even score a simple missing-person’s case. Why couldn’t this one be a case of a dementia patient who’d wandered over to a neighbor’s house, mistaking it for her childhood home?
“We’ve reported her missing to the police, but they aren’t doing much at all. I’m really worried about her. You will take the case, won’t you?”
“Yes, I will.” Mandy asked a few more questions about the missing elderly woman with the unique fashion sense, then thanked her granddaughter, accepted the list of “friends” and a photograph of Grandma Belton, and showed her visibly worried granddaughter to the door. Alone once more, Mandy sank into her chair and closed her eyes.
Sarah came bouncing into her office a few minutes later. “So, what’s the new case? Another cheating husband?”
“No, missing person.”
“Cool! Give me the deets.” Sarah flung herself into the chair that the client had just vacated. She snatched the photograph off Mandy’s desk. “What’s with the hair? And the clothes. Is this a woman? She looks kinda like Johnny Depp’s Mad Hatter.”
“Yes, it’s a woman. Her name is Ruby Belton. And she’s a tad on the eccentric side.”
“
Tad?
More like a ton.” Sarah returned the photograph to Mandy’s desk, then flung one leg over the other. “Of course, you’re going to let me help, right?” Sarah had been hired to answer phones, handle paperwork, deal with all those pesky little details Mandy tended to either neglect or fuck up—like plane reservations. But Sarah much preferred undercover work to filing. Not that Mandy could blame her. She did, too.
Tad?
More like a ton.” Sarah returned the photograph to Mandy’s desk, then flung one leg over the other. “Of course, you’re going to let me help, right?” Sarah had been hired to answer phones, handle paperwork, deal with all those pesky little details Mandy tended to either neglect or fuck up—like plane reservations. But Sarah much preferred undercover work to filing. Not that Mandy could blame her. She did, too.
“Of course you can help. But this case isn’t going to be anywhere near as much fun as the Clark case.”
“Why’s that?”
Mandy slid the list of names and phone numbers across the desk. “The missing person is eighty-three. And she isn’t into domination and submission.”
“Most aren’t.” Forehead crinkled, Sarah skimmed the list. “What’s with the list?”
“Those are her closest friends.”
Sarah gave her a raised-brow look.
“You get to call them all today.”
Sarah’s expression soured. “All of them?”
“As many as you can.”
Sarah stood. “What’re you going to do?”
“I’m going to e-mail the other nine thousand.” Powering up her laptop, Mandy grumbled, “What had ever made me think being a PI would be glamorous?”
“It was that stupid movie,
Charlie’s Angels.
You wanted to be Drew Barrymore.”
Charlie’s Angels.
You wanted to be Drew Barrymore.”
“Stupid is right.” Mandy glanced at the clock. She had four hours to kill before she headed back to Twilight, the bondage club, to try to catch Clark. Knowing most spam filters would tag an e-mail going to nine thousand people at once, Mandy opted for writing one master e-mail and then sending it to each person individually.
Oh, the joy.
Sitting in the limo, the windows heavily tinted to protect him from the weak sunlight, Zane double-checked the address. The building’s front entrance faced south. Not the best situation for his kind. But fortunately, the day was overcast, heavy gray clouds blocking much of the sun’s dangerous radiation. With a hat, a pair of sunglasses, an umbrella, and a trench coat, he’d make it through the front door without a problem.
He pulled the hat on, flipped the collar of his trench up to cover his neck, shoved the glasses on, and readied the umbrella. “I’ll call you when I’m finished,” he said to the driver.
“Very well, sir.”
He opened the umbrella, ducked from the vehicle, and, trying not to look too conspicuous, strolled to the door. Inside the tiny building—a nineteenth-century storefront that had been converted into an office—he closed the umbrella and removed the glasses, even though he was fully capable of seeing with them on. A familiar face greeted him at the front desk.
“Zane?” Sarah said, plunking the phone on its cradle. “How can I help you?”
“I’m here to see Amanda Thompson.”
“Of course you are.”
“I’d like to discuss a professional matter with her.”
“Sure.” Sarah picked up the phone, then, without dialing, put up an index finger and dashed through the door behind her. She returned a few minutes later, smiling. “Mandy will see you now.”
“Thank you.” His footsteps echoed in the small space as he headed toward the back of the reception area. He found Amanda’s office to be small but professional, decorated tastefully in mostly neutral tones, the furnishings aged, weathered, but beautiful.
Amanda stood the moment he entered. “Zane, how can I help you?” Her face flushed a pretty shade of pink as she motioned to the chair in front of her desk, then hurried around him to shut the door.
Zane watched her flit back to her desk as he settled into the chair. Memories of the time they’d spent together at the club and in his suite played through his mind. His dick got hard. His balls tightened. “I would like to hire you.”
She eased into her chair, eyebrows scrunched together. “I’m sorry, but I’m a little overbooked at the moment.”
Mandy tried to pretend she wasn’t completely freaked out about Zane’s surprise visit. She couldn’t work for him. Not after ... after what had happened at Twilight this past weekend. Not a chance. But she wasn’t going to tell him that. Better if he thought she was too busy to take on a new case than to admit how that experience had shaken her. How it had challenged the way she saw herself, her sexuality.
“Overbooked?” Zane leaned forward, pulled a wallet out of his pocket, withdrew a stack of cash, and set it on her desk. “Are you sure?” He gave her that look, the same one that he’d given her last weekend.
The effect was exactly the same.
Her face became blistering hot. Her blood pulsed through her body in audible bursts. Her panties became soaked.
Yanking her gaze from his, she glanced down at the money. That was a hundred-dollar bill on top. And who knew how many underneath it. The stack was tall. Potentially, she could be looking at thousands of dollars.
“A retainer,” he explained.
Thousands of dollars could sure come in handy. Her gaze leaped to the tray of unopened bills she’d been trying to pretend didn’t exist. The rent was due in a week. The electric and gas, too. Thanks to her grandmother’s recent medical bills, she barely had enough in her bank account to cover her own obligations, plus Sarah’s salary. She wasn’t expecting much action on the Clark case anytime soon. He was much more careful than she’d anticipated, and every time she’d found him, Zane was there, and had taken her camera.
And the new case... well, she hadn’t taken much of a retainer, only fifty dollars. She didn’t have the stomach to ask for more. It was the kind of case she took because it was the right thing to do, not because she expected it to pay much.
“Why do you feel you need my services?” she asked, shifting in her seat. Could he tell how uncomfortable she was? She checked his face. If he could, he was doing a good job pretending he didn’t.
“I’d like you to join my security team.”
“But I’m not a security specialist.”
“But you are. You’ve managed to dodge not one but two security systems ... or have there been more?”
Her face got hotter. She didn’t answer.
“That’s what I thought.” Zane shifted forward, moving closer to the desk. “I need you to stop people like you from getting into my parties.”
“But ... it’s a bit of a conflict of interest for me.”
“Why’s that?”
“There are times when I need access to certain people and places, like your parties... .” And she knew for a fact he’d never let her step foot in his house again if she didn’t take the job. But if she did, she’d be faced with one hell of a dilemma. How could she get Clark on infidelity without breaching her contract with Zane?
No matter how she looked at it, this was a lose-lose proposition for her and a win-win one for him.
Zane raised one well-manicured eyebrow. She knew what he was thinking.
“I won’t have access to your parties if I don’t take the job, will I?”
He shook his head. “If your subject is doing something illegal, I might be convinced to assist you. However, I cannot and will not get involved in any investigation that would invade my guests’ privacy. Again, if there hasn’t been some sort of illegal activity involved. I am tolerant of many things, but kidnapping, murder, drug trafficking, prostitution, et cetera, aren’t among them.”
“Then you aren’t going to be able to help me. In this state, infidelity isn’t a crime.”
Zane’s smile was one hundred percent wicked. “No, it isn’t.”
This man was evil. Dangerous. And downright infuriating.
Zane stood. “Thank you for your time.” He extended a hand. Mandy reluctantly accepted it. When his fingers curled around her hand, a wave of sensual heat whooshed through her body.
How could she possibly work for a man who made her feel so off-kilter? Who made her think of a million weird and wicked things she’d like to do to his body? Who gave her wet dreams every night?
“You’ll let me know by tomorrow?” he asked, giving her hand a slow pump up and down.
“Um, sure.” She uncurled her fingers, but he didn’t let go.
“Very good. I’m having a party this weekend. I need to get my security team in place.” He finally released her hand, but his gaze still held hers captive as he picked up the stack of money and set it in her palm. “Will you be returning to Twilight ?”
Clasping the money, she thought about lying. But what would be the purpose? She shoved the money into her pocket. “Yes. Tonight.”
He nodded. “I’ll see you there.”
She didn’t take a full breath until he was out of the building. No sooner did she hear the dull thump of the lobby door swinging closed than Sarah came rushing in, flinging herself into the chair.
“What did Zane want? You’ve got to tell me!”
Fingering her burning face, Mandy pretended to be super-busy. “To hire me,” she said, shooting for a carefree tone but failing miserably.
“
Hire
you?” Sarah’s expression twisted with confusion.
Hire
you?” Sarah’s expression twisted with confusion.
“Yes, apparently he was impressed by the fact that I was able to sneak a camera into his party last weekend.”
“Ah, so he wants you to come work for him to make sure nobody else can do the same thing. Kinda like the companies who hire hackers to plug their security leaks.”
“Yes, exactly like that.”
“So, are you gonna take the job?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why not?”
“Because ...” Mandy didn’t know how to finish that sentence. She hadn’t told Sarah about what had happened between her and Zane at Twilight. She hadn’t told anyone.
“The guy gives me the creeps, too,” Sarah said, standing. “But I’ve seen his clothes. And I know what he drives. I’m guessing he’d pay a lot of money to keep hidden cameras out of his parties.”
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