Red Hots (23 page)

“This
morning you were feeling a little confident and courageous.”

Trying
to read his emotions, she met his gaze and took in the laurel tint of his eyes
but couldn’t decipher anything. “Um, yes, Sir.”

“I
like seeing you confident. It’s very sexy on you.”

Smiling,
she felt the warmth race from her stomach to surround her heart. “Thank you,
Sir.”

His
gaze darkened to a stone gray, with green threads. “However, I never asked you
to bring me your panties, Song Sparrow, did I?”

Oh,
shit.
She
swallowed. “No, Sir. But the last time—”

A
single hand raised, palm toward her, cutting off her rushed words.

Damn
it, damn it, damn!
No one had to tell her that her bold, sassy actions that morning had warranted
her punishment.

“Only
one of us can be the Dominant one in this relationship. Who gives the orders
and commands?”

“You
do, Sir.”

“Who
 follows them to the letter?”

“I
do, Sir.”

He
gave a slow nod, an acknowledgement that he believed she understood her place
now.

Would
he order her to strip and go to the playroom now? He still had not moved or
closed the gap between them. Other nights she’d find him in the kitchen cooking
where he would greet her with a kiss then allow her to change into one of his
t-shirts and nothing else. Then she’d set at the bar and they would talk about
their day. What would tonight entail?

There
was a heavy aroma of herbed tomato sauce in the air, so he either was preparing
dinner or it was complete.

“Place
your briefcase beside the closet, pull up your skirt and lean back against the
door with your hands flat at your sides.”

Proving
to him that she could follow his commands, she quickly did as she was told.
Once she was in position and feeling the cold press of the wooden doors against
her palms, she stared at him and waited.

“Spread
your legs, wide.” His gaze was on her face; he still had not looked down to her
bare sex.

Stepping
out with one foot beyond her shoulder but still able to keep her balance, she
waited. She felt exposed, vulnerable and naughty. The scent of her arousal
greeted her nose. It wasn’t a shock to her that she was wet. She’d been like
that most of the day. The warm cream covering her pussy only cooled slightly in
the air of the room. Swollen and aching, her clit throbbed with the need to be
touched, stroked and pushed to a climax.

However,
she doubted one was anywhere in her near future. Satisfaction for her usually
came at the end of a scene.

“Isn’t
this how you wanted me to remember you all day, Song Sparrow? Your reason for
brazenly coming back to my home, lifting your skirt and depositing your warm
panties in my hand?”

Please
come closer, she wanted to beg. She desired to feel his nearness. The distance
now between them seemed like the width of a canyon. “Um, um…no, I mean yes,
Sir.”

Shit,
her mind felt confused. Why had she come back to him?

“Which
is it?” His voice lowered as he took a step, still not close enough.

“Proof,
Sir.”

An
eyebrow ticked up, but he didn’t say anything.

“Proof
that I’m okay with our relationship. With the commands you give me. I would do
my best not to go against your orders.” She was trembling now, not in fear, but
with determination and the urgency for Dom Hawk to understand how important
their relationship had become to her.

“Shh.”
He closed the gap and placed a hand along her cheek. She witnessed him shutting
his eyes and heard him inhale deeply.

His
touch calmed her.

When
he lifted his lids, she saw the dark green of his gaze—the color that signified
his desire for her.

“Message
received.” That was all he said before he shocked her by lowering himself to
his knees before her.

The
quivers in her core began again, but for different reasons.

Placing
his hands on the inside of her thighs he traced a slow design through the
wetness collected there—evidence of her desire for him. His warm palms held her
in place as his tongue followed the same path along the center of her thighs.

Staring
down at his head before her pussy she moaned.

“I’ve
thought about nothing but the sight and taste of your pussy all day. And what
method of discipline I would enact.”

When
the first swipe of his tongue brushed along her labia, she pressed her head
back against the door and closed her eyes. She tried not to enjoy his licking
and sucking her too much, afraid his plan may have been to bring her to the
brink of climax and leave her there.

But,
his actions felt so good, she struggled to hold her response to him at bay. The
moment he drew the clit between his lips and began flicking it, she was lost.
No amount of strength that wasn’t Herculean would have held back the flood of
pleasure that rushed over her—drowning her beneath an erotic haven.

Her
rose and kissed her, even as her body was still twitching in satisfaction. She
tasted her saltiness on his lips and tongue. Breaking away from her, he took
her hand in his.

“Come,
there is one more thing left before we can have dinner.”

On
shaky limbs, she allowed him to lead her into the living room. She would have
hoped for the master suite upstairs so they could finish what he started, but
she wouldn’t complain if he took her on the living room floor. The sight of his
hard cock beneath his khakis let her know that he wanted her just as much as
she desired his thick, hard length inside her.

When
she saw him take a seat in the middle of the couch, she smiled.
Did he want
me to straddle him?

 “Over
my lap, please.”

She
started to lift one of her legs, when he stopped her by pressing her leg back
down.

Shaking
his head, he said, “Not like that.”

Frowning,
she stared at him. Did he want to take her from behind? She’d thoroughly
enjoyed anal sex the three times they had done it since the first, but she didn’t
feel at all prepared to take him that way at the moment.

He
must have recognized her confusion, because he pulled her down until she was
prostrate across his thighs.

The
air rushed from her lungs as she collapsed down onto him.

“Place
your hands flat on the floor and do not move. A moment ago was for both of our
pleasures, but this is your punishment. Your number is twenty, count it out.”

Pressing
her hands down, she waited. She knew better than to question him. Besides, she
knew she’d earned this action because she had been just a little too saucy and
flippant in dropping her panties off.

“One.”
She called out at the first sting of his palm meeting her ass.

On
and on it went as he went from one cheek to the other and at times landing a
succession of smacks on one ass cheek before switching quickly to the other and
back again.

When
he delivered the last strike, her ass pulsed with fire and she understood the
weight of her actions. Her mind was calmer from submitting to his control,
however her heart raced and once again she was at a high level of arousal as if
he hadn’t just brought her to climax with his mouth at the door.

He
stroked her ass for a moment then squeaked it.

Her
moan turned into a hiss as the smarting from her backside zipped into her clit.

Lifting
her, he ordered, “Go get undressed, Song Sparrow. There is a shirt on my bed. I
will meet you back in the living room for dinner, spaghetti and salad, and a
game of Checkers.”

Just
like that she’d been disciplined, instructed and their evening was back on
course.

CHAPTER fourteen

“Counselor,
would you like to re-question your witness?” Judge A. Willard Geneon stared
down from the bench at her and waited for her response.

Hell,
everyone in the courtroom was staring at her and waiting on her reply. She
could feel every set of eyes boring into her and even the tight squeeze of the
camera as it zoomed in on her face.

She
kept her gaze fixed on her witness. Officer Patrick Zanetti sat on the stand
appearing just as uncomfortable as she was, however, his complexion was rugged
with anger and indignation. She was sure that somehow he figured she would get
him off the hook, clear him.

How
in the hell he could believe for a moment that she didn’t know. Simeon knew
that too, that was why he’d brought the man back on the stand. He showed
Officer Zanetti up as a liar, someone who slanted the truth in the court of
law, and a violent man ready to take the law in his hands.

“Counselor,
would you like a recess? A moment to confer with your witness or team?”

Shifting
her gaze to the presiding judge, Kindle realized he was giving her a chance to
get herself together. Wipe the egg yolk of embarrassment from her face. “Yes,
please, Your Honor.”

Once
the gavel had struck and Judge Geneon had called a fifteen minute recess, she
sat down in her chair. Her team all began to lean toward her and whisper at
once, but when she heard the defense attorney say he was going to the restroom
she excused herself from her counseling table.

She
passed through the observers and few reporters that were allowed in the
courtroom and she kept her gaze averted from her boss. The last thing she
needed was to see his thoughts on how she was handling today’s proceeding. 

Keeping
her head up, she followed Simeon Duff out the door and down the hall. As soon
as she spotted an open door, she raced across the few steps, grabbed his arm
and yanked him inside, closing and locking the door.

“Hey,
what the hell—”

Thankfully
the witness sequestering room was empty, and soundproof for the most part
because she had some words for the defense attorney.

“Yeah,
what the hell, Simeon. Where do you get off, damn it, pulling that shit on my
witness?” She stood before him with her fist on her hips, waiting for his
response.

He
took a moment to brush invisible lint from his jacket and straighten it before
setting his gaze on her. “Look, Kindle, I’m doing my job.”

“What
job? Are you trying to get your client off on some trumped up charge of police
brutality or obstruction of justice or some other cockamamie bull?”

He
barked out a laugh. “If I was, that lying cop of yours would have served it up
on a platter for me. I’m simply showing the jury that an overzealous, vigilante
cop took legal matters into his own hands and possibly added to my client’s deteriorating
mental state.”

Her
hands squeezed tighter into the fist on her hips and she could feel the bite of
her nails. However, the sensation didn’t give her peace or make her calmer but
angered her even more because she was doing the act. Especially when she knew
Simeon’s words were true. Officer Zanetti and his partner had lied in their
reports. They had both stated as arresting officers that the bruises noted in
Peter Dashell’s mug shots were incurred at the time of arrest, when the
perpetrator was resisting. Apparently Simeon had known, perhaps from his client,
or other ways, but he’d waited until the last day of questioning to recall the
officer.

“Why
didn’t you say something to me? A freakin’ courtesy from the beginning. You
didn’t have to try and make me look bad.” 

“Ha!
It may come as a shock, Kindle, but I don’t consider you before I make a
decision.”

Had
she really dated this man? Had sex with him? Considered him a friend? “Big
shocker on that.”

He
shook his head. “Look, I didn’t know. Dashell never said a damn thing to me.
Hell, he barely even peeps in his own damn defense.”

“That’s
because being a low life pedophile and child killer is hard to defend.” She
allowed her gaze to roam down the suit of the well-dressed defense attorney
hoping he got her message. “Even for the savviest of people.”

“Ouch.
I’m going to disregard your insult. Ramsey Charlton let the proverbial cat out
of the bag.”

Frowning,
she asked, “When?” She didn’t recall her primary witness, the neighbor who
heard a kid’s scream and called the police because he knew the defendant had no
children or relative that came to visit.

“When
you questioned him on the stand and Ramsey said he stood on his porch watching
Dashell come out smiling and looking smug. He said he wanted to go to him and
punch him, bloody his face as he’d bloodied innocent children.”

Kindle
dropped her head, clutching her chest as she struggled to breathe. She recalled
that testimony and had not even picked up on the fact that Mr. Charlton’s
passionate declaration revealed that Dashell didn’t have injuries on his face
at the time of arrest. However, he did by the time he got into the precinct for
booking. She’d missed it.

“Three
minutes, counselors,” came an announcement from the other side of the closed
door.

She
wasn’t shocked people knew they were in there.

Lifting
her head, she stared at her ex. “How do you plan to use this?”

“You
wouldn’t respect me if I told you that.”

His
words were true, but what he didn’t know was that at the moment she was already
wrestling with her level of admiration for him. “Dashell deserves to be locked
behind bars for the rest of his life, Simeon.”

“Where
he’ll be safe, pfft.” He rolled his eyes.

“Where
he will get justice, however it is measured out. A mental institution for life
is not deserved by a man who abducted, raped and killed three children, buried
them beneath his garden and gave the ripened tomatoes to his neighbors each
season. He was prepared to do it to a fourth one before he was caught.”

“Well,
we both have a job to do. Let’s see who does it better.” Simeon turned and unlocked
the door before he strutted out.

The
cocky bastard had left the door wide and too many people were milling around
the hall for her to do anything but hold her chin high and go back to the
courtroom.

~YH~

Facing
the wall in her office, Kindle stared at her degrees on the wall. Something
that had always filled her with a sense of pride and assurance, now they just
seemed like vain papers on the wall.

She
heard someone enter her office. Shifting, she glanced over her shoulder to see
who would dare disturb her after the hellish day in court she’d had. The tight
face of the Commonwealth Attorney met her.

Turning
so that she was fully facing him, she said, “CA Harvey.”

He
didn’t enter the office any further than the single step he’d taken to be
considered “in” the office. “I put you on this case because I had confidence in
your skills above everyone else. I don’t know what the fuck happened in court
today and how you could allow such a blunder to slip past you. I expect you to
fix it.” One single jab of his finger toward the ground punctuated each of his
words.

“I
promis—”

“Fix
it,” he barked, cutting her off and walking out of the office.

Feeling
like a chastised child, Kindle moved to her desk. There she collected her
briefcase and left her office without a word to anyone. She’d spent all of her
adult life working toward the position she currently held and had sacrificed
her very soul to gain the exalted status. However, all of her achievements
tasted bitter in her mouth. The thought of her career made her feel empty
inside. There was only one thing that made her feel whole, cherished and worthy
just because she was her, nothing more. One person.

Kindle
needed Dom Hawk in the worst way. Everything was falling apart. If the jury had
been even slightly swayed or if, after closing argument, the case was thrown out
on a technicality, that was her job. Her career.

At
that moment she couldn’t allow those thoughts to take root. She wanted nothing
more than to escape and give care of her emotions to someone else.

“Hey,
Kin.”

Kindle
slipped behind the wheel of her car then started it as she held the phone to
her ear. Hearing Emmalee’s cheery voice, Kindle said, “I need a favor from
you.”

“You
know you have it. What’s up?”

“Ask
your Master Razor if he minds me coming by in about thirty minutes, I’d rather
explain in person,” Kindle told her.

If
Emmalee was shocked by the fact she’d for the first time referred to her
boyfriend’s scene name, she didn’t say anything. “Hold on, I’ll call him on the
other line.”

“All
right.” Her car app linked with her cell phone, so Kindle set it on the seat
beside her then pulled out of the parking lot.

Less
than two minutes later, her friend came back on the line. “He’s working later, but
everything is good. Come on over.”

“Thanks.
See you soon.” Kindle pushed the end call on her steering wheel and merged into
rush hour traffic.

~YH~

“Dom
Hawk.” Master Zach met him at the entrance to The Dollhouse when Masaun walked
in.

“How’s
it going tonight?” He kept his features schooled. Generally the owner of the
dungeon was in his office and Masaun wouldn’t see Zach until later in the night
when the older gentleman made his rounds or decided to play with an available
submissive. So, Masaun couldn’t help but be curious what had pulled the man out
and why Zach seemed to be waiting for him.

“Well.
I’m going to take over the newbie training tonight.”

Frowning,
Masaun clenched his hand around the small duffle bag he always brought with him
to the dungeon. “Is something wrong?”

“No.
However, there’s a submissive in one of the back rooms who specifically
requested you for a session.”

Lifting
an eyebrow, Masaun stared at him. “Did I train her? Or have I worked with her
before?” It wasn’t uncommon for a submissive to request a scene with one of the
Doms or Masters, however, it wasn’t something that he was looking forward to
doing. It wasn’t that the joy of working a sub had left him. Hell no. But, the
thought of having anyone else on the other end of his flogger didn’t hold much
appeal. That wasn’t an option at the moment. Normally, she came to him early on
the nights he had to be at the dungeon or met him late at his house and stayed
until morning. Today she had called him and said she would not be able to see
him before he had to come to The Dollhouse.

He
could pick up on something in her voice, but she didn’t allow their
conversation to continue beyond a few seconds before she explained she needed
to go and take care of something.

“Not
here at The Dollhouse to my knowledge,” came Zach’s cryptic response as he
crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Masaun.

Masaun
hated to be assessed and even more, he would truly dislike for the experienced
Master to pick up on the emotions building inside him toward his secret and
temporary submissive. “Can another Dom see to her?”

“Sure.”
He gave a sharp nod and started to walk away then he paused and faced him
again. “She specifically asked for you by name and mentioned something about
her Dom would be very unhappy if someone else worked with her.”

Now
he was really confused. His gaze shifted beyond Zach’s shoulders to see if
there was a new face in the dungeon he didn’t recognize. “Is he back there with
her?”

“No.”

Shit
. “Fine, I’ll go back there.” It
beat the hell out of him why a Dom would send his sub to The Dollhouse, any
dungeon for that matter, without supervision. He figured that if the submissive
was not known to Master Zach that perhaps Masaun had trained the Dom.

“She
is in the last privacy area.”

Exhaling,
Masaun carried his bag through the wide common area and headed toward the back
hallway to the private areas.

He
spoke to other dominants as he passed them. Once he arrived at the last room,
he paused on the side of the opening. Listening for any sound coming from
inside, he used the moment to get his head in the right place. It wasn’t safe
or fair to the submissive for his mind to be on another while working with
them. It would be too easy to miss something, a small sign or physical
indicator that the submissive needed a break.

Feeling
more level-headed and like the Dom he’d worked hard at becoming, he rounded the
corner into the room. He hadn’t taken more than two steps before his feet froze
and the wind was knocked from his lungs. Before him cuffed into the St. Andrews
cross was a lithe, chestnut brown frame garbed in a short leather dress with an
opening in the back. That opening revealed her ass, plump, firm and round. The
woman’s hair was bundled high on the top of her head leaving all of her back
available to him.