G-Men: The Series

by ANDREA SMITH

  Busbee’s was fairly packed with the after-five crowd when I arrived a little after six. I immediately saw Lindsey, waving me over to a booth where she and Jill were sitting.

  “Jill,” I screeched, as she jumped up to hug me. “How you been, sweetie?”

  “If you ever phoned or e-mailed me, I guess you’d know, bitch,” she said laughing. “It’s all good. Just miss my girls!”

  I ordered a happy hour Margarita and joined the banter with the girls. Jill was filling us in on her wedding plans. She and Gabe had nixed the plans for a big wedding, which I personally was grateful to hear. I wasn’t prepared to be yet another bridesmaid or Maid of Honor. It was, shall we say, ‘depressing.’ Instead, they were planning to tie the knot in Aruba with a two-week cruise.

  “So Darcy, anything new in your love life?” Jill asked, her eyes looking a bit mischievous. I immediately looked over at Lindsey, who was wearing a guilty look.

  “I told her about the recent events with Darin,” she said, holding her hand up to ‘shush’ me.

  “You mean there’s someone besides Darin?” Jill asked.

  “No one important,” I lied, clearly not wanting to get into all of it and ruin my mood for the evening. “By the way, I received two dozen freshly cut red roses in a crystal vase at work today from Darin.”

  “Oh my God!” Lindsey and Jill exclaimed together, as if they’d practiced it.

  “Oh, I see. You already knew.”

  Lindsey giggled, already feeling the slight buzz from her drink since this was likely the first bit of alcohol she’d consumed since Harper was born. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she apologized, smiling. “It was just kinda cute when Darin called me last night and wondered what I thought a good ice-breaker would be to get his foot in the door with you. I happened to mention it to Jill before you got here. So, were you impressed?”

  “I’m not sure that’s the right word. Let’s just say I felt several emotions. Then he showed up in the parking lot at lunch time wanting to talk.”

  “Oh,” Jill said, frowning. “That’s kind of lame.”

  “No it isn’t,” Lindsey snapped. “I think it’s sweet.”

  “And why are you such a supporter of Darin’s all of a sudden?”

  “I just think—and Jill agrees, by the way, that the two of you are well-suited. I mean, c’mon Darce, he’s G-Man for Chrissake. That’s totally hot.”

  “Yeah, well, cheating isn’t,” I said, waving for the server to bring me another drink after I’d downed the rest of mine.

  “Why are you getting so pissy about it, then? I mean, he’s going to be here soon.”

  I raised my eyebrows at my best friend sitting across from me, knowing she truly had my best interest at heart, but what the fuck? “How did you know he was coming here?”

  Both she and Jill squirmed uncomfortably in their seats.

  “Well, I mean he called after he ran into you in the parking lot at lunch time and said you guys had talked and you suggested he stop by.”

  “You know,” I said, clearly ticked off, “this is starting to sound like a little too much interference by well-meaning friends. I appreciate that you care, but in all honesty, it’s not really Darin I’ve been thinking about lately.”

  They both exchanged looks once again. I’d be damned if Lindsey didn’t have a bucket mouth. She’d evidently clued Jill in on everything.

  “Lighten up,” Lindsey scolded. “Darin just came in, so behave.”

  Behave? Umm…doubtful.

  I already had an uber bad feeling about this, and an even worse feeling that it damn well wasn’t going to end with me ‘behaving.’ I turned around, gracing Darin with a faux smile as he approached our booth.

  “Hey Jill, why don’t we go out on the patio and give these two a little privacy?” Lindsey said, scooting out of the booth. I shot her a dirty look that went nowhere. They both left and Darin slid into the booth across from me.

  “Hey, Darce,” he said softly, waving for the server. “Are you ready for another?” he asked, as I slurped up the rest of my second margarita.

  “Absolutely,” I replied.

  Once we’d gotten our drinks, Darin began his well-practiced diatribe, taking full responsibility for his betrayal. He assured me that it had been a one-time thing, and a bad decision on his part. He said he’d likely regret it for the rest of his life. He made sure he told me that he’d not been with another woman since that night, and would do anything and everything in his power to make it up to me. He pleaded with me for another chance. He told me how much he’d missed me and realized how much he’d loved me. His eyes were sincere. His hands were clasping mine on the table as he waited. I saw the pain in his face, the pain of waiting for an answer from me that would take his pain away. I wasn’t going to give him the answer he wanted. I didn’t even need time to consider what my answer was going to be.

  Unfortunately, I wasn’t given the opportunity of answering him, because I felt a firm hand on the nape of my neck, softly fisting my hair.

  “I believe,” I heard Easton’s voice say calmly, “this cheating prat’s waiting for an answer from you, love.” His hand loosened its grip, traveling down to the base of my neck in what I could only describe as a menacing caress.

  Sweet baby Jesus!

  That bad feeling I had earlier turned into an atomic bomb traveling through my pulse. This wasn’t going to end well for poor Darin, and probably not for me, either.

  I quickly looked over at Darin, who was looking very pissed as he sized Easton up. I should probably just have told the poor guy that he was wahaay out of his league at the moment.

  “Listen buddy—” Darin interjected.

  I quickly stood up, brushing Easton’s hand away. I walked over to the opposite side of the table, where Darin was sitting. This had to end now before we caused a scene.

  “You had your chance,” I said to Darin. “You blew it. It’s not like I don’t give second chances. It’s just that…well, you’re so not worth one.” I grabbed my handbag, feeling Easton’s hand on my arm as he pulled me alongside of him. I heard Darin behind us cursing softly, his words unintelligible. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to build my wood out of an old boat. Or whatever the hell Eli had said.

  “Wait,” I said, trying to unsuccessfully pull my arm from Easton’s grasp. “I’m here with Lindsey and Jill.”

  “You were. But now you’re with me and we’re leaving. We’ve got unfinished business to take care of at my place. You can text them in the car.”

  “What about my car? How’d you know where I was? And what in the fuck is going on?”

  “You’ve a lot of questions, love. The only one I’m answering at the moment is about your car. Rest assured it’ll be delivered to the hotel garage later. No worries.”

  My mind was riddled with confusion and conflicting emotions as I sat silently in Easton’s car. I had definitely meant what I said to Darin. There was no going back for me with him. Easton however—he was a completely different story. I was drawn to him, for whatever reason. I couldn’t explain it because I didn’t understand it myself. It was as if the chemistry between us was on steroids, and yet it was more than just that. It was a bonding of sorts that was inexplicable, but strong, almost as if being on the verge of some major discovery for the both of us. It was mesmerizing…

  I was sitting in stony silence on the sofa in Easton’s luxurious Presidential suite, watching as he paced in front of me, one hand in the pocket of his business casual trousers, the other hand raking through his thick, tousled hair in frustration. He’d barely said a word to me on the way here. I hadn’t missed the occasional twitch in his cheek, as if he was struggling with some inner demon, not quite sure who to be angry with in this most recent cast of characters.

  I finally saw him exhale, as if he was no longer at odds with whatever was plaguing him. He turned to face me, his hand now rubbing the back of his neck, relieving the pent-up tension.
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br />   “I have to punish you,” he said plainly. “There’s no other way around it.”

  chapter 37

  I awoke with a start; my wrists were painfully sore. Then I remembered. I felt a smile play on my lips as my fingers massaged the tender flesh on one wrist, soothing the skin that had been bruised by the handcuffs. My ankles had been bound together tightly with leather straps, which in my mind had been worse, but I’d understood the necessity of it. Easton had been about inflicting pain last night, not pleasure. Well, that’s not altogether true. The pain had brought me pleasure, not that he’d intended it to, but it had, nonetheless.

  I snuggled back against him, feeling his arms tighten protectively around me. He was stirring and I knew he hadn’t slept well last night. He’d tossed and turned, repositioning himself a half dozen times around me, asking me if I was okay. I knew he’d been apprehensive about how I’d react to my punishment and concerned that he’d crossed the line with me or maybe with himself. But, I’d leapt across that line, hands and feet bound tightly together into his world of discipline and respect, and I understood the rules now. I comprehended this man.

  I rolled over to face him, looking up into his smoldering gray eyes that were studying me intently. Was he concerned I’d flee from his bed? Not a chance. I was still naked beneath his sheets. I could still feel his cum dripping from me. My God! We’d fucked most of the night—after the punishment had been dispensed with, that is. I’d never been with a man that had a sexual appetite comparable to Easton’s. It was as if he’d been on a mission to bury himself in me, and despite my reddened behind and sore wrists and ankles, I hadn’t wanted him to stop.

  He lowered his mouth to mine, kissing my lips softly.

  “Morning, love,” he murmured, his voice rough with early morning. “Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine, Easton. Stop asking me that,” I whispered against his lips. “I want more.”

  “Don’t say that,” he snarled, immediately disengaging from me and sitting up. He raked his hands through his fuck-tousled hair.

  I frowned, perching myself up on one arm, my fingers reaching out to touch his sinewy muscled back. “What is it?” I asked, frowning.

  He stood up, distancing himself from me, not bothering to hide his agitation. “For Chrissake, you can’t possibly think what happened last night can ever happen again. I won’t let it,” he snapped. “It’s not what I want with you.”

  “Okay, I’m definitely not following you here. I kind of thought it rocked.”

  He took two steps towards me, his eyes flashing. “That speaks of your needs, not of mine, at least not anymore—not with you.”

  I was pissed. Damn pissed! I’d been quite the trooper and was fucking proud of it. Now he was telling me what? That I sucked at being punished?

  “You’re being an ass,” I snapped, hoping to get his ire up, along with anything else on him that cared to rise to the occasion.

  “I am an ass,” he spat. “You should’ve figured that out a long time ago. I don’t want to be an ass—not with you at any rate. You didn’t deserve the things I did to you last night.”

  “Which things?” I asked.

  He was silent.

  “The flogging?” I taunted. “The thin leather straps with the metal tips you flailed across my back and butt? Your aim was perfect, by the way.”

  I saw his quick intake of breath as my words hit home. He turned towards the bathroom to put more distance between us.

  “Or the bondage?” I persisted, cockily trying to draw him back. He stopped and turned towards me, his face masked with shame. “The titanium steel handcuffs attached to my wrists, and the leather binds for my ankles making me unable to move while you fucked me raw.”

  “Any of it,” he replied.

  “Who deserved it, Easton?”

  “All of them—apart from you. All of the whores I’ve been with, the ones I’ve punished in that way. Do you need names?”

  “Only one,” I replied, watching him with interest.

  “Bianca,” he snarled, his eyes flashing with fury. “It’s how I wanted to fuck Bianca, the traitorous bitch. It’s how I thought I wanted to fuck you, until I realised…,” He broke off mid-sentence, agitation once again settling in as he dealt with his own confusion.

  “Realized what?”

  “Nothing,” he muttered, going into the bathroom and slamming the door behind him, leaving me to guess how he might’ve finished that sentence.

  I sat back on the bed, pulling my knees up under my chin, trying to figure out this complicated man. He’d been angry with me in London when I’d fixed my hair and make-up like hers. He’d succeeded in punishing me that night. Then there was the night of the thunderstorms when he’d made love to me and slept curled around me all night. He’d taken care of me the following night when I was trashed. Oh My God! I remembered him trying to get me to sleep. I asked him if he loved me…I remembered his answer now: “God help me.”

  Wait a fucking minute.

  I launched myself off of the bed and barged into the bathroom where Easton was at the sink, splashing water on his face. He turned his face to look at me as I pointed my finger at him accusingly.

  “You love me!” I yelled. “You fucking love me, don’t you?”

  He didn’t say a word. He gave no verbal or non-verbal response admitting or denying. He didn’t need to, because I knew the truth. He loved me.

  I watched as he approached me, both of us still naked. He took me by the hand, leading me to the massive marble shower. In silence, he washed every part of my body, cleaning and polishing me as if I were his prized possession. He grimaced as though he was feeling the pain of the marks present on my wrists, ankles and butt. He was extremely gentle with me, washing my hair, and leaving soft kisses on my neck and ear lobes.

  He patted me dry with a soft towel and then carried me back to his bed, placing me gently beneath the covers.

  “Sleep now,” he instructed me. “I’m going to shower and work from here for a bit. We’ll talk later.”

  “It’s a work day, Easton,” I argued, glancing at the bedside clock. “We’ve got to be at work in less than an hour.”

  “I’ve got it all taken care of, love. I phoned in letting the rest of the staff know that I’d be working from here.”

  “What about me?”

  “Call in sick,” he replied with a slight smile. The first one I’d seen on his face for quite some time.

  I did as instructed and then crawled back into bed and fell into a very delicious slumber, feeling the love of the man in the next room who’d become so important to me, for some very strange reason.

  Later, he crawled into bed, pulling me closely against him, making me feel loved, protected, and for some reason, very secure. The tide had changed in our relationship. I knew it. He knew it. Words were not necessary because we both just knew and I was okay with that for as long as Easton chose to love me. I didn’t want to analyze it, put it under a microscope, and pick it apart. He made me happy and me him, it seemed. So, for now we would just simply enjoy it.

  chapter 38

  ~ Easton ~

  I gazed down at Darcy and my heart was heavy with the knowledge that she was right. I loved her. How in the fuck had I let that happen? That wasn’t supposed to happen to me ever. I couldn’t even say ‘again’ because this was so much more than it had ever been with Bianca. This whole thing with Darcy had cornered me into the realisation that I’d never really been in love before.

  I know how trite that sounds, how utterly female it is to say you can love someone, but not be in love with them. The fact remains, it’s true for men as well. I’d loved Bianca as one loves a prized possession, or a trophy for a performance well-executed, or a rare gem that others would kill to have, but I hadn’t been in love with her. If I had, I never could’ve transformed that love into the all-consuming hatred I had for her after discovering her affair with Christopher and the abortion.


  Sex with Bianca had always been about her following my orders on what I wanted and how I wanted it. She’d understood my sexual quirks, and while, not always on board with it, she tolerated it because it suited her to do so at the time. She loved the money I spent on her; the power and privilege that went along with being Easton Matthews’ fiancé. The night Darcy had tried to emulate Bianca was the night I realised I felt something for her, something alien to me. I’d been infuriated at seeing Darcy trying to transform herself into the shallow and insidious Bianca. As if that would have endeared her to me.

  In the first ten minutes after meeting her, I was fucking clueless. Aside from the obvious—that being her looks, her body, and the way her pussy clenched my cock whenever I buried myself inside of her—there was so much more to her that gave me cause to slowly come entirely unraveled by her. I enjoyed her outspoken nature, her playfulness and the fact that my wealth or power didn’t impress her. I liked the way she could hold her own with me and get in my face when she needed to.

  I liked the fact that when Mummy and Daddy pushed her from their financial nest egg, she rebounded with a determination to show everyone she had the ability to make it on her own merit, including me. She’d done a fantastic job on her debut presentation. We’d received the renewal contract three days later. Of course, being the prick I was, I hadn’t shared that with her just yet.

  I also loved the fact she was willing to take whatever punishment—physical or otherwise I administered without a whimper. Just as she’d done last night. She relished the bondage and the flogging; the problem was, I hadn’t. I couldn’t. Not with her. Not ever.

  I gently lifted a lock of her dark brown hair, caressing my lips with it, while wondering where to go from here. She drove me to distraction and that wasn’t a good thing. I knew what a possessive and controlling arse I was. There was no way in hell we weren’t going to push against each other and have our verbal battles, and I mean often, yet I looked forward to doing just that with her. It was the very first time ever I’d regarded a woman as my equal. She was perfect for me, though I knew the road going forward would have twists and turns and be bumpy at times. We were both so imperfectly perfect for one another. Still, I was getting ahead of myself. After all, she hadn’t shared with me as to whether the affection was mutual. Perhaps I was assuming too much. Maybe she didn’t feel the same things I felt for her.