He moaned a little and brought his hand back out. “Not smart. You should have had them vetted and visited the facilities and gotten recommendations.”
Yeah. She wasn’t going to tell him she’d used a coupon. Or that the place had doubled as a nail salon. Or that the person who lasered her might or might not have been a dude. She couldn’t be sure. He’d had the prettiest blonde hair that didn’t match his five-o’clock shadow. “I will next time.”
“Over my lap. We’re on the stoplight system.”
Which meant red was her safe word. Every cell in her body was suddenly awake and alive, but her brain was a little apprehensive now. Ian could be a ruthless, nasty bastard. He really could use her and toss her out like garbage. He could split her open and make her ache.
She would be safer running. She knew how to hide, knew how to disappear.
None of it meant anything without him. If he tore her up, then at least she’d have another few moments with him. Maybe hurting her would give him a sense of peace because what he didn’t know, what she hadn’t told him, still haunted her to this day.
She hadn’t been entirely out when he’d found her body. She’d heard his low shout, felt him lift her into his arms.
She’d felt it when his body had been wracked with sobs and she’d heard him plead to God to bring her back.
She had put him through that.
Charlie placed herself over his lap, vowing to stop being a coward. This was what she owed Ian—a chance. He would have a chance for closure with her, a shot at finding some peace. They would have a chance at being together again.
If her heart broke, then that was just what she deserved.
She filled her lungs slowly as his hand moved over the curves of her ass. Like everything Ian did, he took his own sweet time, saying absolutely nothing. Anticipation hung in the air like a mist she couldn’t quite see through. She knew exactly what he was going to do and yet she lay there, her heart pounding, waiting for him.
Smack.
Charlie heard the sound crack through the air before she felt the sting against her skin. Fire lashed through her. She bit back a curse because Ian wasn’t warming her up. He’d gotten right to the hard stuff.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
Pain flared. Tears welled. She didn’t even think about stopping them. It felt too good. She’d been strong for so long. This was a release, pure and simple. She let loose, crying out as he continued his discipline.
Over and over he rained down on her willing flesh. He wanted to say she didn’t have tear ducts? Yeah. She could show him. He hadn’t told her she needed to be quiet, so she cried out.
He didn’t say a word though she knew he would keep a perfect count. She would get every smack he’d promised her. She also knew that he would stop if she screamed out red. The word didn’t even play through her head. This was what she’d longed for. Ian had taught her she needed this, taught her to not be ashamed that she was different and required a little kink to find her peace. There had been no peace before him, and no peace after him, just a deep disconnect from the world she’d grown to love.
She lost count, didn’t care to know. He could go on forever and they could stay in this place. She would take the pain to feel the connection to him. While he was disciplining her, they were the only two people in the whole world. Everything else could fall away and she could be herself, the Charlie she’d discovered when she fell in love with him. The Charlie who would sacrifice herself for others, who reached out and made friends. The Charlie who was brave enough to deserve those friends.
The room went quiet. Only the sounds of her gasps and tears could be heard. Ian’s hand stilled against her flesh, and she wondered for a moment if he would deny her what he would give any other sub he’d just disciplined. That might hurt most of all. She could take anything he dished out as long as she got the aftercare that completed the cycle even if it was nothing more than a few words of praise, a moment or two when she felt like she’d pleased him.
Slowly, his hand soothed against her skin, rubbing in gentle circles where he’d been so rough before. “You did well, Charlotte. But then you always did. How do you feel?”
Released. Peaceful. Just the slightest bit empty because she wouldn’t be in his arms. “I’m green, Sir.”
“Get up then.”
She sniffled a little. Maybe it would be good to have the afternoon to think about what she was doing. She pushed herself off his lap and stood on shaky feet, turning toward where she’d left her clothes.
He frowned her way, reaching for her hand. “Where are you going? I didn’t tell you to leave.” He tugged her into his lap, his arms encircling her. “Have you forgotten the drill?”
She was on the verge of tears again because his cheek nestled against her forehead, the intimacy so sweet she could hardly stand it. He cuddled her close, sighing as her arms went around him.
“I do this for all the subs I discipline, Charlie.”
Of course he did. He was known as the tenderest of Doms. His reputation for cuddling was world renowned. She loved him, but he was a dumbass if he thought she was buying that. She’d made a study of him before she’d met him and kept up with him since she’d died. Ian Taggart was known as a bastard who preferred to contract his sexual experiences so the women he screwed would never think that he would stay with them. Yes, she was certain he snuggled with all of them and smelled their hair, breathing them in like they were the air he needed to live. “Yes, Sir. I won’t mistake it for anything but aftercare.”
“See that you don’t.” He rocked the chair back and forth, his hand smoothing her hair back as she held on.
No matter what happened, she wouldn’t let go.
The overhead light shone down on the conference room table and the evidence Simon and Jesse had spent the afternoon collecting.
“Does the DPD know yet?” Ian ran a frustrated hand through his hair as he stared at the pictures Simon had taken. They showed a man, likely a businessman given the fact that he was wearing a suit, lying on the floor of his expensive hotel room. He had a startled expression on his face, but then he also had a bullet hole through his forehead so Ian could forgive the man for being startled. It was a neat, clean execution, the kind the mob specialized in. It looked like their hit man had found the perfect perch from which to shoot someone coming out of the building that housed McKay-Taggart, and he didn’t really care that it was already occupied.
“No. No one’s found the bloke yet.” Simon was relaxed in his chair like finding dead bodies was an everyday occurrence for him. He sipped his Earl Grey. It was four o’clock. Nothing interrupted afternoon tea for the Brit. Ian was pretty sure Simon would stop in the middle of a shootout for high freaking tea. “The shooter had put the
Do Not Disturb
sign on the door. Staff won’t find the body until he’s supposed to check out, I would think.”
And then they might start to put two and two together. Maybe. If they were smart. He needed to make things look good with Brighton or the cops would get involved and everything would go to hell.
Jesse took off the ball cap he was wearing. At least he’d had the good sense to wear a ball cap and a fairly shapeless sweat suit. The kid looked too casual for the office, but no one would remember his hair color or body type. If he slumped properly, it would take inches off his six-foot-three-inch frame. “The hotel is quiet, minimal security. Room 721 is definitely the place where the shooter was planted. We found the sniper hole. The windows don’t open so he used a glass cutter to make a one-inch round hole, just enough to get the barrel through, not enough to hit the ground below and cause a ruckus. He knew he might be there for a while.”
“How obvious was it?” Again, he was thinking about the cops. It might be much easier to draw a line from point A to point B if they found holes where none should be.
“I barely found it. He put it in the bottom corner of the glass. I cracked it a little so it didn’t look so neat and stuffed a tissue in it. It’s what I would do if I accidently broke a window,” Jesse said.
It might work. It might not. “I don’t suppose the fucker left casings behind?”
“No,” Simon replied. “He was very neat, very clean. I managed to bribe one of the security guards. I convinced him I was a PI looking for a cheating spouse. He brought up the security cameras from the hallway at approximately the time we were looking at. A man roughly six foot or so wearing a ball cap got on the elevator carrying a briefcase at the right time. I didn’t get his face, though. He was careful to keep his head down.”
Ian huffed a long breath out. What a shitty day. “Well, it’s good to know Denisovitch trains his people well. We can bet he’ll try again. We need to come up with new protocols concerning Charlotte.”
What was he supposed to do with her? If she wouldn’t leave and hide, he had no idea how he was supposed to just let her run around the streets of Dallas alone. He had no doubt she could take care of herself. The question was how much chaos would she cause while she did it?
He had to keep an eye on her and that meant she would have to stay with him.
Fuck.
He glanced over and watched her through the open blinds. She was sitting in her chair in Phoebe’s office, both women quiet. Phoebe’s head was down, her eyes on the computer screen while Charlie’s were squarely on her hands. She stared down at her lap, and Ian wondered what she was thinking.
Plotting most likely. She always looked so pretty when she plotted.
He had to take her into the dungeon tonight. If they didn’t get horrifically murdered first. Charlie would be kneeling at his feet in Sanctum, putting on a show for Derek Brighton.
Was she putting on a show for him, too?
Alex stepped into the room, holding out Ian’s car keys. “I moved your car into the parking garage. I thought it would be better to take Charlie out that way than to walk into the open.”
That woman was going to give him a migraine. “Thanks. I’ll make sure I put her in the trunk when I leave for Sanctum.”
“She’ll love that. No, we’re leaving your car here. We’ll take mine. I doubt they’re looking for mine.” Alex sat down beside him, his eyes going over the photos. “Nice. So our assassin doesn’t mind taking out a few civilians. What is Charlie going to want to do about her sister?”
He hadn’t even thought about Chelsea, the sister Charlie had betrayed him to save. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was interested in meeting Chelsea Dennis. “Send someone out to her place. Bring her to Sanctum tonight. We’ll regroup there. Simon, why don’t you and Jesse go and nab the girl?”
Simon’s eyebrow arched. “What if the girl doesn’t want to be nabbed?”
Alex shot Jesse a nasty look. “Well, I happen to know your little partner there is quite good with duct tape.”
“I said I was sorry about kidnapping Eve.” Jesse turned a bright red. “I’ll go get the address from Charlie. Wait. I shot her. Maybe you should do it, Simon.”
“You really are going to have to stop assaulting people who end up being your team members.” Simon stood and Jesse followed him. “Can the girl write out the address? I understand she’s on lockdown.”
She was going to stay that way. The longer Charlie didn’t actually talk to members of his team, the better. “Adam has it along with a phone number. He’s already talked to the apparently very abrupt Miss Dennis. They’re coming up with a plan to try to flush this guy out. I don’t want you bugging Charlie. Charlie is thinking about all the things she’s done wrong today. I’ll see you at the club in two hours. Make sure this Chelsea girl has the proper clothes if she’s going on the dungeon floor. If she’s not, she can sit in the locker room until I’m ready to question her.”
“I’m sure she’ll be thrilled with the invitation,” Simon muttered.
Probably not. According to Adam, she was spitting mad. Ian was really just cutting her off at the pass. If he didn’t bring her in, she would show up on his doorstep and likely get a bullet to the head, and then he would have to deal with a dead girl and he couldn’t explain that away to Brighton. He needed to know where the Dennis sisters were at all times. If Chelsea was anything like her sister, she could start an apocalypse without really thinking about it.
Ian pressed the
com
button on the phone. “Adam, could you join us?”
There was a slight pause, and he could have sworn he heard the fucker giggle and Serena telling him to stop. Poor Serena. She was going to have two kids soon. “Yes, of course, boss. I’ll be right down.”
“So Charlotte’s on lockdown?” Alex asked, his eyes sliding Ian’s way. There was a slight grin on his face.
“What’s lockdown?” Jesse asked.
“She’s not allowed to speak without permission,” Simon explained.
“We can do that?”
“If only it worked that way.” Simon stared out the window.
What was that grin of Alex’s about? He tried not to think about it. “Yes. I thought it best to put her in high protocol. That way I don’t have to listen to her. It’s the one good thing about having to take her into Sanctum tonight.”
“The only thing?” Again there was that smirk on Alex’s face that made Ian feel like the butt of a joke.
Ian turned to his best friend. “Do you have something you want to say?”
“Nope. Just that you might want to call off the surveillance on your office. Do the subs at Sanctum know about your newfound ‘cuddle every one of them’ rule?” A long laugh came out of Alex’s mouth.
Motherfucker. He’d practically made a porn film. And he knew exactly who would keep a copy. “Adam!”
Adam walked in with Jake, and they gave each other a look. It was the same look naughty five-year-olds slid each other’s way when they’d done something stupid and couldn’t help but laugh about it.
Fuck.
He’d forgotten about the 540. Goddamn it. It was the kind of thing he never forgot. He’d even watched her for a while from Adam’s computer, but the minute he’d gotten into the same room with her, he’d forgotten everything except the fact that he was her temporary Master. “You will turn those cameras off now.”