by RG Alexander
Jen sent her a thumbs-up and the conversation was over. Tasha worried her lip, wondering if she should call her. It could be anything from wanting to show off her piercing to needing advice about getting out of her situation with that aggressive couple.
Tasha sent a message to the owner of the fetish club instead, asking her to keep an eye on Owen’s little sister this week, and another to Jeremy.
LF@4
Which meant “Little Finn is at DEFCON 4.” Jennifer wasn’t in need of emergency help, but someone needed to keep an eye on her. It was the code they’d agreed on when Jen first started to explore the BDSM lifestyle and began to go out with a few of the club’s more colorful members.
When that was taken care of, she forced herself to stop worrying and focused on getting ready.
An hour later she gave one last approving glance at the mirror before she left the hallway bathroom and started down the stairs.
She stopped when she heard the argument.
“Things come up,” Stephen insisted. “Plans change. It happens all the time.”
“This is the wrong call, man.” Brady sounded frustrated. “I didn’t agree with bringing her on board in the first place, but now that she is, I think she’s perfect for this. I honestly don’t see a downside.”
“You don’t see a— Are you serious, Brady?”
“She’ll know people there, she’ll understand the lingo and whatever kinky-ass secret handshake these people have. And from what I saw this morning, no one would suspect you’re not a couple. Isn’t that what you said? That she was the right woman for the job?”
“I’ve changed my mind, okay? I’ll tell Burke we fought and she refused to join us. I can do this without her.”
Tasha glared down the stairs. What had changed in the last two hours? Was this too much togetherness for Stephen? Dinner, sex and breakfast, and now the prospect of more? Well, too damn bad.
She squared her shoulders, imagining steel in her spine, and finished her descent. “No you can’t, Senator. Asking me to help is the only smart move you’ve made since this thing started. Other than hiring Brady.”
“Thank you,” Brady replied.
“Anytime.” She knew an ally when she saw one. “Face it, Stephen. He’s right. I’m right. I’ve been a fetish club member for a decade and I have a pile of deliciously dirty laundry for Burke to rifle through. I’m exactly what a handsome young Irish senator would want to keep hidden from the press. As soon as he sees me in action, he’ll think he’s won. And during his premature victory lap he could let down his guard.”
The men were staring at her, Brady with admiration and Stephen with frustration—and then lust when he noticed what she was wearing.
She’d picked this out very carefully. The deep fuchsia dress made her skin glow, highlighted her impressive cleavage and tiny waist, and flirted at the skirt with a slight part that could easily be swept aside if the mood struck her lover. It wasn’t cheap, but it was colorful and it sent the exact message it was supposed to.
Tasha did a twirl in her gold sandals. “Do you like it? It’s what’s trending in kept-women chic.” She lifted her hand to her diamond pendant. “I’m even wearing this to show him you like to give me pretty things, despite your government salary.”
His eyes narrowed and she smiled. “Of course, this actually came from a lovely older man with more money than friends who begged me to come over to his house and order him to clean it.” She paused for effect. “He looked adorable in that maid costume.”
Brady buried his face in his hand and Stephen’s eyes darkened dangerously. “Take off the necklace.”
Tasha laughed. “Burke won’t believe I’d be satisfied to hide in your closet without any perks. Consider it a necessary prop.”
He slid his hand into his suit pocket—because who didn’t wear a suit to a house party—and pulled out a black velvet pouch. The kind that looked like it came directly from one of those jewelers no one she knew could ever afford. “Take off the necklace, Natasha.”
Her hands went automatically behind her neck, unclasping the pendant. “Fine, Senator. You know I live to please.”
He held out his hand and she dropped the necklace into it obediently, her eyes on the pouch. What did he have in there?
When she saw what he pulled out of it, Tasha forgot to breathe. It was necklace. An emerald heart framed by small diamonds on a short, choker-style chain. It looked stunning. Expensive.
Her mouth suddenly dry, she asked, “Do you actually keep spare pieces of women’s jewelry on you in case of emergency? I think that is something your mistress would know.”
Stephen handed the pouch and the other necklace to Brady, then moved to put the exquisite piece on her himself. “Hold up your hair.”
As she did, she caught Brady grinning at her.
“It’s a good thing I’m not Owen’s pretend lover for the week,” she joked awkwardly as the warm stone came to rest at the base of her throat. “I would be wearing a giant shamrock around my neck.”
Stephen’s hands landed on her bare shoulders and turned her to face him. His eyes dropped to the heart and he reached out to hold it between his fingers. “It matches your eyes.”
Her hand fluttered up, then dropped at her side. “It’s too nice,” she whispered. “I’ll be worried the whole time that I’ll break it or lose it before I can give it back to you.”
His expression was difficult to read again. “It’s yours. I realized on the way home yesterday that you’d need something for the party.”
For the party. This didn’t mean anything. He was being smart, not romantic.
The hand on her shoulder flexed. “Keep it as a thank-you for agreeing to join me and being understanding that I’ve changed my mind. This is too much to ask you to do. I knew it yesterday. You should go home. I don’t want you to deal with any of the fallout if this doesn’t go the way we want it to.”
Was that what he was worried about? “I’m a big girl, Senator. And when I give my word, I keep it. Unless you’ve changed your mind about wanting me…to play your girlfriend, I mean.”
“No. I want you. That hasn’t changed.”
“Then let me do this. I can do this, Stephen. I can help you get him.” She licked her lips, watching him follow the movement. “We’ll have four days together to get him.”
Four days…together. He’d heard the slight emphasis. The subtle sagging of his shoulders told her she’d won. He glanced at his cousin. “We shouldn’t be in any physical danger, but if I say the word, you get her out of there. If it’s anything more than what it’s supposed to be, I want her safety to be your first priority.”
Brady stood a little taller. “Absolutely.”
The necklace was heavy on her skin, as if he were still touching her. Reminding her who she belonged to. It didn’t feel ornamental, beautiful as it was—it felt like a collar. A brand of ownership.
It felt so good it scared her.
He wanted to keep her safe.
She stepped back and glanced at the two Finns in front of her. “You should know in advance that I’m going to be a little hard to manage.”
Stephen smirked. “Should I pretend to be surprised?”
“Smartass. Just trust me and follow my lead, because I know it will make Burke salivate. Brady needs to play the bored, babysitting bodyguard, and you just have to let me sit on your lap and touch you inappropriately without looking surprised. Oh, and threaten me with the occasional punishment. Spanking. Going to the room to wait naked on the bed without supper. That sort of thing.”
Brady’s cheeks were a shade darker. “I’m not sure I should be here for this conversation.”
Tasha crossed her arms, ignoring Stephen’s groan as the move nearly pushed her breasts out of her dress. “Get that blushing out of the way now, Brady Finn, because you guard this secretly kinky senator and you’ve seen it all. You’re going to be seeing naked men and women in chains or collars doing the kind of things you good, traditiona
l boys only expect to see in the bedroom after dark.”
“Jesus help me,” Brady muttered.
Stephen walked over and patted him on the shoulder. “Just focus on the job. With Natasha’s help, we’ll survive the rest.”
They’d survive. She would make sure of it. No Finns were going to fall on her watch. She, on the other hand…
Tasha sighed, reaching up to fiddle with her new necklace. Clearly the verdict was still out on her getting out of this intact.
When a knock sounded on the door, they were ready with their luggage and already in character.
Burke wouldn’t know what hit him.
Chapter Seven
Tasha smiled as the sun’s rays warmed her skin. Forgetting the details—that the senator was on a mission to send their wealthy, sleazebag host down the river and she was his distracting arm candy—so far she was having a wonderful time.
Stephen and Brady’s initial reactions had definitely contributed to her ebullient mood. Her date had a much better poker face than his bodyguard—she would say it was his political training, but he’d been like that for years. In the last few days, she’d seen more emotion from him than she had since he was the young and angry high school senior his parents worried about and she was still only a freshman.
But now he was sharp and focused. He wanted to take Burke down, and to do that, he’d fallen into the role of dominant male catering to his mistress as if he’d been born to it. As if he enjoyed it.
After they’d swept the bedroom for bugs with a little device Tasha now wanted for her own, Brady and Stephen had both expressed disbelief and shock at what they’d seen on the way through Burke’s crowded mansion.
“You said people would be naked, but I didn’t think they’d answer the door like that.”
“Someone had her on a leash and she was wearing a fox tail in her— Tasha have you seen that before?”
“People were stepping on that poor guy. On purpose. How can that be a thing?”
Tasha had just looked at them both and started to laugh. She couldn’t help it. Their expressions reminded her of a pair of ten-year-old boys who’d wandered into the wrong tent at a carnival.
She’d warned them that they would see a lot of inexplicable things and that there was a fetish for almost everything, whether they found it exciting or not. Burke had obviously invited a few players specifically to shock the innocent senator.
It was up to Tasha to shock Burke right back.
Leaning on her arms, she tilted her head back, listening to the sounds of people splashing playfully in the massive infinity pool while she inhaled the aroma of the filet mignon that shirtless men in collars were cooking on the grill.
She could feel eyes on her as she sunbathed in her bright, lime-green bikini. A lot of them. Good. It was the reason she’d packed this bathing suit. The color and the lack of fabric were always attention-getters.
Stephen’s stare was particularly penetrating. She had a feeling if he’d seen her before she shed her wrap in front of the other guests, she never would have made it out of their bedroom.
She glanced over her shoulder, hooking her sunglasses with the crook of one finger and pulling them down the bridge of her nose to meet his hard blue gaze. He lifted his hand off the lounge chair in silent command and Tasha felt an actual physical tug in her stomach in response.
He wanted her.
He wanted his mistress, she reminded herself sternly, making a show of getting to her feet and strolling toward him with an extra sway in her step. He was sitting beside Phil Burke and his wife—Wendi with an i—and all three of them were watching her as if she were dinner and they were starving.
She’d already been introduced to their hosts when they arrived, and the instant Burke got a look at her, his eyes lit up like it was Christmas. Not because he was interested in her physically, though there was a spark of that in his brown eyes. It was because he believed she’d be his ticket to busting Stephen’s flawless image. To controlling his votes.
Fat chance, honey.
He didn’t look like a comic book kingpin or villain. Jeremy would probably be disappointed. Burke was incredibly…average. Brown hair with a few strands of silver. Average build with the beginnings of a round belly, but not at all unhealthy. Nothing about him would make someone look twice or cower in fear, unless they knew about his money and what he’d done to earn it.
It was that second, closer look—when she saw the intelligence in his eyes and the confident way he held himself—that gave him away. Anyone who considered him harmless would be a fool.
When she got to Stephen’s lounger, she didn’t hesitate to lower herself onto his lap. She snuggled into him as if she’d done it a million times and leaned forward to kiss the corner of his mouth.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asked softly, pulling her closer.
“Yes.”
Stephen reached for the glass of ice water on the small table beside him and brought it to her. “You’ve been in the sun for an hour. Drink some of this for me.”
She took it, keeping her admiration to herself. He was doing it without prompting. Taking charge of her care. Watching over her. It was more than gentlemanly behavior. His tone, his demeanor…Stephen was being a Dom.
The glass was coated with condensation and she lifted it to her lips, enjoying the taste and the drops of cool water that ran down her arm before handing it back. “Thank you, sir.”
She took off her sunglasses and smiled at Wendi. “I could live the rest of my life by this pool. Stephen didn’t tell me we were spending the week in paradise.”
Mrs. Burke smiled happily and leaned her head on her husband’s shoulder. “It is paradise, isn’t it? I keep telling him travel is overrated. Phil has been trying to take me to his place in Ireland, but I can’t imagine loving it more than I do my own backyard.”
Burke laughed lightly. “So the secret to getting you on a plane is moving to a less attractive location without a pool. Good to know.”
Wendi playfully whacked his arm. “Don’t you dare.”
Tasha felt Stephen’s fingers tracing slow, sensuous circles on her back, just beneath the knot of her bikini. “I’d love to travel. This one is always too busy saving the world or giving speeches to take me where I want to go.”
Wendi made a sound of commiseration but sent her an excited smile. “Where do you want to go? I bet wherever it is, my husband has property there. Maybe we could make it a group trip.”
“Italy.” Tasha and Stephen both spoke at the same time.
Tasha whipped her head around in surprise, then was forced to add, “You remembered? I didn’t think you were listening to my fantasy itinerary.”
How had he done that? Known what she was going to say?
“I’m always listening, Natasha.” He shared a masculine smile with Burke. “Natasha has a weakness for Italian cuisine. I’ve been meaning to take her, but I have this nightmare of losing her to a chef in Tuscany.”
They all laughed and Burke motioned to someone nearby who instantly brought him a fresh mimosa. “So, you’ve got no interest in Ireland either, Miss Rivera? I’m surprised. I would’ve thought you’d be anxious to see your father and his family.”
Stephen’s hand stilled on her back, but Tasha had fully expected Burke to know something about her. Her father’s deportation was low hanging fruit, the easiest information for a man with his resources to uncover. She shrugged and sent him a look laced with just a trace of guilt. “Am I a horrible person for craving the warmth of the Mediterranean over an awkward family reunion? To be honest, I haven’t seen or heard from him in so long, he could be at this party and I wouldn’t recognize him.”
She’d get her grandmother to pray for forgiveness on her behalf. That kind of lie had to be a sin. The only thing that had ever kept her from going to Ireland was her fear that her father would turn her away. That her memory of the man he had been was colored with a child’s hopeful brush and the reality would be painful.
His wife reached out and touched Tasha’s leg, as if to comfort her. Just as quickly, she pulled away and Tasha saw the blonde’s cheeks darken. Interesting. “Of course you aren’t horrible. Phil shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Stephen’s words were low, but had the desired affect. Burke stopped smiling.
“My apologies, Miss Rivera. I spend my days surrounded by nosy reporters. Some of it was bound to rub off. It so happens I do have a villa in Tuscany, as Wendi said. I’d love to bring the both of you there, and I’ll do my best to keep all the best chefs hidden away from view so your Natasha isn’t unduly tempted.”
Wendi was beaming, and Tasha sent her a matching smile. “I would love that.”
Stephen tugged on her bikini tie in warning but answered, “How can I refuse such a generous offer?”
Wendi stole a sip of her husband’s mimosa, her eyes never leaving Tasha’s face. “Are you wearing contacts?”
Tasha smiled. “No.”
“You have beautiful eyes.”
Burke chuckled at his wife’s compliment. “Finn, you could be in trouble. Every party we throw, Wendi and I are each allowed to explore a different desire. I can’t deny my beauty anything either, and this time I believe she’s decided on Miss Rivera. At least, that’s what she’s been insisting since you two arrived.”
Wendi was blushing so deeply that Tasha felt bad for her.
Stephen’s fingers dug possessively into her waist. “I don’t blame her. However, there are a few things I’m not willing to share, Burke. I’m sure you understand.”
Phil Burke’s eyes narrowed, honing in on Stephen in a way that made Tasha uneasy. He wasn’t used to being denied.
She covered Stephen’s hand with her own. “I wouldn’t mind one little experiment. As long as you were watching me. Sir.”
She stared at him, willing him to read her thoughts. Wendi was still a newlywed, barely married a year to a man who surrounded himself with the kind of debauchery that would send anyone into sensory overload. Tasha had no doubt Wendi’s request was more about keeping her husband’s attention in this kind of environment than seriously exploring same-sex relations.
