“Where’s your car?” I ask.
“Down the road,” she whispers. She’s not raised her voice once.
“It’ll be fine,” I decree, taking her to my car. The beacons are still spinning lazily, flashes of red and blue through the grille.
I settle her in the passenger seat, make sure her seatbelt is secured tightly, and then walk around to my side of the car. I switch the lights off once I’m inside, but don’t start the ignition.
“You’re not to go there ever again,” I say into the silence.
She nods her head.
“It’s unsafe,” I add, because I feel like yelling and maybe hitting something, but the more I talk to her, the easier it gets to control it.
Another bob of her head, eyes cast to the floor.
“Are you hurt?” I ask, rather belatedly, but I’ve been thrown for a loop today and I realise I’m not coping well.
She shakes her head.
“Haydee,” I say.
“Please, sir,” is all I get in reply.
“Haydee,” I repeat more forcefully, and watch the tears well in her dark eyes. “What do you need?”
She looks up at me, her bottom lip trembling, her lashes heavy with moisture.
I’m in love with this woman. She breaks my heart. I want to be whatever she desires.
“To forget,” she whispers.
“Me too, little pet,” I murmur back, starting the car. “Me too.”
The drive home is quiet, but peaceful. She stops crying as soon as we hit the motorway. Her gaze out the window is full of whatever is on her mind, not the scenery. I know. I’ve been there as well today.
“My daughter came to see me this afternoon,” I say into the calm silence. I’m not sure why I’m telling her. But maybe she’d feel better if she knew my life wasn’t as perfect as I would like. “The first time I’ve spoken to her in six long years.”
I know she’s watching me now. I know she’s seeing.
“It was never meant to be like this,” I comment, changing lanes once we merge with the north western motorway at spaghetti junction. “But it was hard after her mother died.”
I’ve not talked to anyone about this. No one. Not Lara. Not Jason. Not a soul alive.
“I guess I shut down. Closed myself off, “ I admit.
A small hand comes over the space between our seats and wraps around mine on my thigh. I breathe deeply for a second, and then squeeze her fingers back.
“It’s thrown me,” I say. “Made me question things. Remember things I’d rather forget.”
“What type of things?” she asks, and it’s no longer a whisper, but still so soft and quiet.
“What it was like,” I say. “After the car accident.” I swallow. I can do this. I can give Haydee something of mine to possess. If only my worst memory. “Watching her on the machines,” I say, my voice damn near breaking. “Telling them to switch them off when it became obvious she wasn’t coming back.”
“Oh, Ethan,” Haydee says, her voice full of my pain.
I shake my head, clear the fog.
“It’s been a fucking awful day,” I finally say, as I take the off-ramp at Redoubt Road.
She’s silent all the way to my house, but when I switch the engine off she starts talking.
“I was stalked,” she says, and I want to wrap her up and shout to the world how brave she is to say this. “He was meant to be a friend,” she adds, staring at the floor, her fingers still laced with mine. Tethered. “He made me believe things. Made me think I was seeing things. I thought I was going out of my mind. But it was all him.”
“When?” I ask. I already know, but she needs to say it.
“It started four years after I moved to London. I was thirty-two and loved my life. He was younger than me, but mature for his age. We had fun together and then rumours started. Spreading through the staffroom, through the entire school.” She lifts her face up and sees my house for the first time. She blinks and then says, “He stole three years of my life. Two of them while he screwed with me and the last while it was going through the courts. I refused to leave London and come home with my tail between my legs. I faced him in the courtroom and I told my story and once it was over and they believed me, I didn’t speak for three whole weeks.”
A breath of air escapes me. My chest hurts with the need to hold her.
“Tonight brought it all back,” she finishes by saying. “He’s being released in four days time; I thought I’d gotten the dates wrong.”
Oh, sweet Haydee.
I shift in my seat and turn her face to mine, then lean forward and rest my forehead against hers. Both hands on her cheeks holding her steady, grounding her to me.
“He won’t be able to travel,” I say. “He’ll be denied a visa.” She nods. “Who followed you tonight? Can you describe him?”
She pulls back and stares at me. Then, softly, “You believe me?”
I nod my head. “There is a reason why we have flashbacks. Something triggers them. Usually something connected to the memory. For me, it’s Lara. She’s the spitting image of her mother. The image of what I assume her sister would have looked like, had she survived in Anna’s womb.” I’ve said too much. I pull back and open the door and slip out into the night.
By the time I catch my breath, Haydee is before me.
“What was her name?”
“Hmm?” I manage.
“The baby?”
“Katy,” I whisper. “Catherine Elizabeth,” I clear my throat. “Lara has forgotten her mother was pregnant. She’s as bad as me for blocking things out.”
“I’d like to meet her,” Haydee says.
I offer a chuckle and shake my head. “Over my dead body.” I wince at her wide eyed look. “Lara and I,” I start. “We,” I try. “Well, it’s…”
“OK,” Haydee says soothingly. “There’s time.”
I look down at her, feel the world shift under my feet. And then my lips are pressed to hers, my tongue seeking refuge and possession, my body wrapping around her frame while the world spins out of control all around us.
I’m dizzy. I’m addicted. I can’t get enough. I want more.
I slip my hand down her arm and lace our fingers together and then lead her to the front door. We’re both breathless. Both needy. But it’s not until I’ve disconnected the alarm and turn back to Haydee that I realise she isn’t wearing my chain.
Why would she? Tonight was not meant to be spent with me. There was no need. But I’m not sure how to proceed, how this should go. I’m not sure what to do.
“Ethan?” Haydee says. “What is it?”
“Your chain,” I say, face impassive.
Her delicate hand comes up to her throat and she breathes out an, “Oh.” Then she’s rummaging in her handbag and pulling out the long length of platinum and diamonds and emeralds.
“You have it with you?” I’m surprised. Why am I surprised? This is Haydee. She surprises me daily.
“Of course,” she says, placing her handbag down on the hall table and beginning to wrap the chain around her neck.
“Why?” I demand.
She stops what she’s doing and looks up at me. Then whispers, “Because I feel safe when it’s near.”
She finishes wrapping the chain around herself and then lowers her hands, holding them together loosely in front of her as her face tips down to the floor. It’s a transformation that could bring me to my knees.
She is exquisite.
“I want you to wear it always,” I say, the command in my voice unmistakable.
She nods her head, then tilts it, baring her throat.
“We need this, don’t we, Haydee?”
Another head nod, a soft sigh as I trace my finger down her long neck.
“But I like our talks as well,” I add. She blinks at me. “Do you?”
Her head nods, her lips spread in a soft smile.
“New rule,” I declare. Her eyebrows arch. “When we’re like this, you’re my pet.
”
Another nod of agreement.
“When it’s not about pleasure, you’re my woman.”
She stares at me for so long, I’m unsure if she’ll go for it. I’ve never had an arrangement like this before. I’ve never wanted more than complete control.
“I’m still in charge,” I qualify. “You will not be returning to that bar,” I say with vehemence. “I might even have to punish you for considering going somewhere like that was a good idea.”
She tips her head down and stares at the floor, but not before I see her amusement.
“Haydee,” I chastise, because I’m smiling now too. What does this woman do to me?
“Go up to the bedroom and remove your clothes. Kneel in the centre of the rug and wait.”
She nods and moves off in a soft glide towards the stairs. I watch her climb them until she is out of sight and then cross the hall and enter the office. The light is dim when I flick the switch. I have to hurry. There’s no fire lit upstairs and Haydee will get cold very quickly.
The thought of warming her up fills me with delight.
I cross to the desk and sit down, steepling my fingers together, elbows to knees, as I lean forward and look at the photo of my dead wife.
“Well,” I say. “This is it.” She smiles back at me from a twenty-six year old photo, her belly softly swollen with our child.
A hitched breath leaves me, and I reach forward and take the picture, returning it to its drawer.
“I will always love you,” I whisper, just before I close it. “But it’s time to let go now.”
It takes a minute for me to settle myself, and then I’m checking the doors and setting the perimeter alarm, and taking the stairs two at a time to get to Haydee.
The minute I cross the threshold, feel the warmth of an already lit fire, and see the goddess waiting patiently on the Aubusson, I know I’ve made the right choice. Haydee is perfect. She’s brilliant and beautiful and caring and capable. But she is also a submissive at heart.
We need this. We both want it. And I have every intention of giving this stunning creature whatever she desires.
“For lighting the fire without permission,” I say, crossing the carpet to stand before her. “You’re going to pleasure me.”
Her eyes come up and watch me behind those dark lashes, then tip down when she nods her head in acceptance.
“For going to a bar with less than stellar security and service,” I add. “You’re going to take every single inch of me and then some.”
A small head nod is the only reply I get.
“Hands behind your back,” I order. She obeys. My cock is already throbbing.
I reach down, placing my crotch in her face, and secure her at her joined elbows with the chain. It will be uncomfortable, distracting. It will make her job harder to achieve. But punishments must be real.
It will also make her as horny as fuck and desperate to touch me, touch herself.
I pull back, undo my belt buckle and proceed to unfasten my trousers. I’m still in uniform. I’ve never had sex while still in uniform. I always undress first. But tonight’s a new beginning and Haydee is going to suck my cock while I stand before her in my work clothes. When she looks up she’ll see my badge, catch the glimpse of the crown and pip on my shoulders. She’ll know who she’s servicing. She’ll know whose come she’s swallowing. She’ll know who it is who holds her steady while he fucks her mouth without pause.
I pull my cock out, it’s rock hard. I stroke myself in front of her, watch as her pupils dilate as she licks her lips.
“Are you ready, pet?” I ask, my hand moving faster under her eager little gaze.
She nods her head.
“I’m not going to take it easy on you,” I add, placing the tip of my cock on the edge of her lips. “Lick it!”
She does. First the flat head, and then the sides, up and down, up and down. Her tongue presses into the groove at the top making my balls tighten.
“Oh, you’re a bad girl,” I say, gripping her head with both hands and holding her steady, lips to the tip of my shaft. “I like you bad,” I say and sink myself into her welcoming mouth, right to the base of my cock.
Fuck! How could I have forgotten how hot her little mouth is? How sweet and hard she can suck.
“Haydee,” I say as I start to fuck her between her lips. My grip on her head is punishing, but she takes it all. Balancing herself with her stomach muscles, making eager little humming noises as I sink myself in again and again and again. “Fuck, your mouth is pretty,” I say, staring down at my shaft covered in her lipstick and saliva.
I want to spend the entire night in here. But there’s so many other parts of her body I’ve yet to discover. The thought almost makes me pull out, tip her over the edge of the bed, and fuck her stunning behind.
But the scene has been set and my little naughty pet needs to learn a lesson.
“That’s it,” I say as she swallows. “Work your throat, take me all the way.”
I’m lost. She’s taking me there. She sucks and licks and takes everything I give her, and when I come in a torrent of ejaculate down her throat she moans a sweet, sweet sound.
I have her chain undone and her body up and on the bed and my face between her legs in the next heartbeat.
“Ethan!” she squeals, completely caught off guard.
I growl into her pussy.
“Master!” she purrs as I stick two fingers in her cunt.
“Your turn,” I say and then fuck her with my fingers and mouth.
She comes apart under my touch, at my command. She takes me with her. I curl her sated body into mine and watch her sleep in the light from the flickering fire.
I don’t know what Samantha’s murder will bring tomorrow. I don’t know if the person who followed Haydee is someone I need to take care of. I just know, that in this moment, I could conquer the world.
With this woman safe and trusting in my arms, it is I who am free. With this woman, I am invincible.
Chapter Nine
“Yes, sir.”
I drop Haydee off in Takapuna beside her car in the morning and then make my way to my lawyer’s office. Calling him in on a Saturday is going to cost a fortune, but Jason was right. I need to cut this off at the knees, before it becomes a problem.
I laugh at myself, as I park my car and walk the short distance into Anscombe, Drake & Kline. As if this isn’t already a monumentally fucked up problem. Who the hell could have killed Samantha? And is it someone I know through the Inferno?
I’m sure Lara is asking herself all these questions and for a moment I wonder what it would be like to really see my daughter at work. The notion is short lived. I might have said my goodbyes to her mother, but it still hurts.
Dominic Anscombe is waiting for me at the front desk, and ushers me into a meeting room as soon as I arrive.
“Coffee?” he asks, I shake my head. I want this over and done with. “OK, this isn’t our usual area of expertise, but an affidavit is an affidavit. I’ve had it typed up; read it, and just sign here and here,” he points to the necessary locations, “and I’ll sign here and stamp here.”
I scan the document, letting my eyes rest on Samantha’s name and then several lines further, on Haydee’s. It’s all there, in black and white. Every time I met with Samantha. Every location. Every date. Too many. I hadn’t realised there were so many, until I went through my credit card receipts and jotted them all down.
I hadn’t even liked her that much.
I let a huff of breath out, run my finger over Haydee’s name, and then sign on the dotted line and date it.
Anscombe does his thing and then hands me the notarised copy.
“Will it do the trick?” he asks.
I fold it carefully and slip it inside my jacket pocket.
“I certainly hope so.”
“If this goes to court,” he says, I stop what I’m doing and wait for him to proceed. “There’ll be no way to keep it quiet.”
He’s not telling me anything I don’t already know.
“I’m ready,” I say, because I am. I’m ready to walk away from the clubs and the submissives. I’m ready to turn my back on a lifestyle I’ve lived for twenty-five years.
At least, I’m ready to start Haydee’s and my lifestyle. Behind closed doors. For our eyes only.
It’s thrilling and immobilising at the same time.
I shake my lawyer’s hand and head out to my vehicle. Five minutes later I’m pulling into Central Police Station on Mayoral Drive. I search the underground carpark for Lara’s vehicle and am relieved to note it’s not there. Hart had promised she wouldn’t be here.
The affidavit feels heavy in my pocket as I ascend in the ancient lift up to the CIB floor. It burns a hole in my chest and I keep wanting to rub the spot above where it rests. Which, coincidentally, is exactly above my heart. I walk down the hallway and step into an empty open-plan room. A scattered array of over burdened desks and not a single detective working at them.
Either David Hart is a man of his word or his department needs a shake up.
I knock on his office door, noticing the blinds are already drawn. Professional courtesy, nothing more.
“Superintendent,” he says. “Come on in.”
I’m ushered into a standard police cell-like office, certificates hang on one wall, the New Zealand Police logo on another. The wall behind his desk is all glass. A fishbowl springs to mind.
“Have a seat,” he says, waiting for me to sit before he does. Inspector Hart is old school. I appreciate the fact he’s trying.
I pull the affidavit out and hand it over without a word. The less I say, the better.
He scans it, then re-reads, and finally sets it down on his desk.
“Who is Haydee Elizabeth Armstrong?” he asks, I don’t let him see my anger at his words.
“My girlfriend.”
“How long have you been dating her?”
“Is this to be an impromptu interrogation, Inspector?”
“Not at all, Keen.”
H.E.A.T. Book Bundle (H.E.A.T. Books 1-3) Page 75
