Nicollette's Defense

by Skye Michaels

  “Considering the alternative of a bullet between the eyes, we are great. Hurry. Don’t let that bitch get away.” She hung up.

  Dan pulled Nikki back into his arms for a hard hug and a harder kiss. Delayed stress set in, and they both began to shake. “I don’t suppose you’ll be available to represent Antoinette Marie on these new conspiracy charges will you?”

  “Uh…I don’t think so.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Offices of Nicollette Sommers & Associates, Fort Lauderdale, Florida, Thursday morning, May 14, 2015

  Nikki sipped her cup of coffee and scanned the draft of her opening statement for the vehicular manslaughter trial that was coming up. It had been a busy two weeks since Angelina had taken them prisoner in the master suite at the McGrath house. Her plan had apparently been better than they thought since she had not yet been apprehended. Both she and Dan had given detailed statements to the BSO detectives.

  Mark Cohen was supremely embarrassed that his background check of Angelina had not revealed that she was Antoinette Marie’s sister, and even worse, that he had kind of liked her. Mark had always counted himself a good judge of character and very good at his job, and this failure did not sit well with him. He spent all his free time combing the Internet and the various databases for any trace of her. Review of the various traffic cameras on the Turnpike and other major arteries heading north and out of the state had revealed no trace of her vehicle.

  Kaylin and Del had traveled to the Lowell Correctional Institution to question Antoinette Marie, but she denied any knowledge of Angelina’s plan and that she in fact had a sister or had directed her to kill her ex-husband and now ex-attorney. She said she also didn’t know anything about the cash and jewelry stashed in her closet—a very unlikely story. The prison records showed her making calls to an untraceable burner phone, so that was a dead end. The State’s Attorney’s office was looking into the possibility of charging Antoinette Marie with conspiracy to commit murder and a host of other charges. The outcome of that endeavor still remained to be seen, but she sure wouldn’t be getting out early for “good behavior.”

  Dan walked in with a hot cup of coffee in his hand, reached down, and kissed her forehead. They had given up on trying to keep their relationship a secret around the office. That had been proven to be impossible given all that had happened.

  “Hi, baby. I just heard that all of the inspections on the house were clean. Also, some more good news. Jack’s contract for The White Egret Hotel was accepted after a little back and forth about the price. The seller finally caved when they realized they might not get another all-cash offer. I’ll have to gear up for due diligence, title and survey review, and closing. The due diligence period is only forty-five days from contract acceptance, which puts it at June 29th and then closing ten days later on July 9th. J.J. is forming the new entities that will be taking title, and Jack and Jamie Devereau are getting their investors lined up. I agreed to push the closing on the house back a month so we can close at the same time the Devereaus come down for the hotel closing. That also gives me a little more time to get our personal stuff out of there.”

  “Well, Mr. McGrath, you will be closing Fort Lauderdale’s first BDSM hotel.” She laughed. “Although that fact is to remain on the down low. I wonder how that is going to work. I know Jack keeps a tight hold on confidentiality at the club upstairs, but a hotel is a lot bigger undertaking.”

  “Apparently only guests that are affiliated with the Le Club franchises, or known to and vouched for by current members, will be allowed to book reservations. Walk-ins will just be told that the hotel is full. The BDSM cruises on Devereau’s yacht, the Golden Dolphin, are available on waiting list only. Apparently there’s a big market for this type of entertainment. Speaking of entertainment, will you join me upstairs tonight? I decided to bite the bullet and join The Black Iris Club. Let’s go up and celebrate. I booked the French room.”

  “That’s great! Who’ll be on top?” He just raised one eyebrow and stared her down. She had to laugh. There would have to be some negotiating here eventually, but tonight was his night. Her guy was definitely a Dom.

  * * * *

  The Lowell Correctional Institution Annex in Ocala, Florida, Thursday afternoon, May 14, 2015

  Antoinette Marie was sitting on the bunk in her cell. The mattress was so thin that the steel edge of the bunk was cutting into her leg. When she moved in, she had told the cell’s other occupant to move up to the top bunk. Debby Sue, who was in for credit card fraud and identity theft, had taken one look at her and not argued. She had just moved her personal possessions and not said a word.

  Antoinette Marie had heard nothing from Angelina. It had been over two weeks since they last talked. Had she been able to get into the house and recover the money and jewelry? She had called her sister’s burner cell several times but had gotten no answer. What the hell was going on?

  * * * *

  The foyer of The Black Iris Club, Fort Lauderdale, Florida, Thursday evening, May 14, 2015

  Dan and Nikki rode the elevator up to the club together. Each carried an inconspicuous black canvas bag with their club clothes. Dan had packed the tight black leather pants and open vest that made him a little uncomfortable. That look was definitely not him. If I start thinking about getting a tattoo, I’ll need an intervention. Dan kissed her hot and hard and said, “I’ll meet you in the French room in a few minutes. I’m going to change in the locker room.

  “Me, too.” She kissed him back and headed for the ladies’ lounge. Nikki had a sparkle in her eye, and he had come to know that probably meant trouble for someone. In the current circumstances, that could be him. Not this time, subbie. You’re not going to take me by surprise again.

  When Dan swiped into the French room, Nikki was already waiting for him. She was standing next to the St. Andrew’s cross and had a crop in her hand. She was wearing the garter belt, fishnet stockings, and high heels again but this time without the corset. Her beautiful breasts had dusky pink tips that begged to be sucked. That look certainly rang his chimes, and he could feel his Johnson rising to attention. “Hand me the crop, Nicollette, and assume the position. That is not happening again.”

  She grinned, handed him the crop, and dropped to her knees. “Of course not, Master.”

  “Don’t give me that switchy little grin of yours. Your ass is on the line. I think you need a reminder of just who is the Dom and who is the sub.”

  “Certainly, Master.”

  He reached down with the crop and gave the butt that was framed by the lacy garter belt a sharp little smack. That lacy contraption should be against the law. It did nothing to mask her delicious ass or the twin dimples that peeked out above the lace. Those damn dimples drove him nuts. Sometimes he found himself thinking about them at the oddest moments during the day. He’d better get this show on the road before he lost it. “Okay, sub. Put on your cuffs and mount the cross. I think we’ll start there.” When she was in position and he had checked her bindings for safety, he was ready. Or he thought he was. He slid his hands over her generous breasts and teased the pebbled nipples before he sucked each one hard. He had to distract himself from the prize so beautifully displayed for his pleasure.

  He stepped up behind her and pressed his chest up against her back. She was tall, but he was taller. He kissed his way down her back until he reached the tempting dimples. He smoothed his hand down over her back and ass before he sank to his knees behind her. “This butt is mine, sub, and I’m going to prove that to you tonight.” He continued kissing until he reached each round globe where he nipped the curves. He stopped when he reached the backs of her knees. He licked the creases and felt a quiver pass through her muscles. Ah, the subbie is ticklish. That promises to be fun—for me.

  “Yes, Master.”

  He stood and smacked each cheek with his open palm. The crop and other toys were good, but he preferred the feel of her hot, soft skin under his hand and the mutual sting of ass and palm. He lean
ed in and whispered, “Mine, sub.”

  “Oh, yes, Master.” She was starting to sound breathy and distracted. His hand found her pussy, and it was wet. He pinched her clit, and he thought she would have collapsed if she hadn’t been supported by her bindings and the cross. She looked back at him from under half-lowered lids, and her look of desperate invitation was unmistakable. He ran his fingers through the cream gathering between her pussy lips, and his fingers traced a path through her slit.

  He parted her cheeks and circled his fingers around her back opening. She gasped. Ah, is the switchy little Domme afraid of a little backdoor play? “Do you like that, Nikki?”

  “I don’t know, Master. I don’t think so.”

  “Well, we’ll see. How about if we try a small butt plug?” Before she could answer, he pulled one out of his pocket, doused it with lube, and pushed it up against her rosette. She tightened her sphincter muscles. “Relax, sub. We’re only going to play a little tonight.” When she stayed tight, he gave her butt a sharp smack on each cheek. “I said to relax.” He continued to press until he had popped the small pink plug into her ass and it had settled behind the rim of muscles. “See. That’s not so bad, subbie.”

  “Yes, Master.” She didn’t sound convinced.

  He continued to kiss her long, elegant back and then smacked her butt again. He thought it must feel strange to have a plug in there. Maybe he should take her mind off that little discomfort. He reached for the small but powerful vibrator. “Sorry, but I wasn’t able to find that vibrating butt plug you mentioned that last time. We’ll have to make do with this.” What goes around comes around, baby girl. He pressed the vibrator up against her clit, and she bucked. “Now remember, subbie. No coming until I give my permission.”

  “Is this payback, Master?”

  “Of course not, subbie. We’re just celebrating my new membership in The Black Iris Club.” He let up on the pressure on her clit for a moment to give her a chance to get her breath, and then he mercilessly reapplied it to her pussy, allowing the little nub on the side to rest against her clit. Toys are so much fun. Just look at what I’ve been missing all these years. When he could see that she was about to beg, he released the vibrating pressure and replaced it with his bulging cock. He rubbed up against her butt and then opened the fly of the leather pants until they were skin to skin. “What do you want, Nikki?”

  “I want your cock, Master.”

  “What do you want me to do with my cock, Nikki?”

  “I want you to fuck me, Master.” She leaned back into him as far as her bindings would allow and tried to rub against him. Poor, baby. She was getting a little desperate.

  “Where do you want me to fuck you?”

  “In my pussy, Master.”

  “Not in your butt, subbie? We can take the butt plug out.” He laughed silently as she tightened up again.

  “No, Master. I’m not ready for that.”

  “Who is the Dom, subbie?” When she stubbornly didn’t answer, he asked again. “Who is the Dom, Nikki?”

  “You are, Master.”

  “Okay, subbie. Bump back.” He mounted her from behind, and his hot cock began to rock her with hard, fast rhythmic strokes. He was getting close to begging himself. His cock throbbed with each beat of his heart. He slowed down and took a deep breath. He wanted to make this last. He continued tormenting her and himself, changing rhythms every time she got close. At last a shaft of dark need speared through him, and he felt his balls tighten almost beyond bearing. “Okay, subbie. Come for me now.” The firestorm of need she had been holding back burst forth, and her body arched against him. The velvet walls of her pussy clenched around him, and they both cried out in pleasure. He braced his legs against the rippling sensations that crashed through him. He’d never had an orgasm more intense. “How did I not know about this before?”

  “Is that a rhetorical question, Master?”

  “Snarky, sub.” He smacked her butt, and she rolled into a second orgasm. He held her against his chest as they both came down.

  When he was sure his legs would hold him, Dan bent down to unfasten Nikki’s restraints. He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the richly made antique French bed. He put her down in the center and then lay down beside her. He cuddled her up against his chest. “That was amazing, Nikki. Really amazing.” She nestled her soft body into his chest and rested against his heart. He could feel her pulse still pounding in her veins.

  “That’s the reason people do this, Dan.”

  They rested for a while. Dan just enjoyed the feeling of holding Nikki in his arms. She was precious. He didn’t know if he should feel guilty about how important she had become to him in such a short time. When his troubles with Anne Marie had begun, he hadn’t thought he could ever love another woman—that his heart would ever begin to heal. Apparently that wasn’t true. He knew the feelings he had for Nikki were the beginnings of a deep and enduring love and that they were only going to grow from here. “Since this is a celebration, I have something for you.”

  “For me? If I’d known today was your first day as a Black Iris Dom, I’d have gotten you a present.”

  He sat up and reached for his vest. He pulled a small velvet pouch out of the pocket. “Close your eyes.” After she complied, he pulled a delicate platinum chain out of the pouch and put it around her neck. He had seen the pavé diamond quarter-moon pendant with the small diamond hanging from the bottom corner by a thin chain in a window when he was walking on Las Olas Boulevard. He’d known then and there that he had to get it for Nikki.

  She raised her hand to feel the chain. “What is it? I can’t tell.”

  “Get up and look.” She got off the bed and walked to one of the gilt-framed mirrors that decorated each of the walls.

  The bright diamonds sparkled against her skin, and the sassy little “star” hung down almost to her cleavage. “Oh, Dan. It’s beautiful.”

  “It’s a moon and star because you hung the moon and stars for me, Nikki, when I most needed you.” She turned and flung herself into his arms, and he could feel the wetness of her tears against his skin.

  * * * *

  Nikki was thrilled not only because of the beauty of the necklace but because of what it meant to Dan and that he had thought to buy it. And of course, what girl didn’t love diamonds and platinum? She knew her feelings for Dan had tipped the scale into love a while ago. She had been hoping that he was beginning to feel the same and that they could leave the specter of Antoinette Marie behind and start a new life of their own.

  * * * *

  In the galley of the Itty-Bitty Boat, in the Marina at St. Simons Island, Georgia, Thursday evening, May 14, 2015

  Angelina Broussard was enjoying a hot cup of coffee and a ham and cheese omelet for dinner. She was making her way north at a leisurely pace, taking it easy and not calling attention to herself. She spent as much time out on the water as she could, but sometimes she needed to make port for supplies and a good night’s sleep, so she would pull into small out-of-the-way marinas. She hoped that the thirty-foot cabin cruiser she had stolen at the Lauderdale Marina would not be missed for a while. When she had broken into the cabin and checked out the ship’s papers, she saw that her owners were out-of-towners. The boat had had a slightly disused air, and she thought it would be a good choice for getaway vehicle.

  She had jump started the engines and made her way north on the Intracoastal Waterway. She, too, had been raised on the bayou and could handle any boat. She knew the cops would have the airports, bus stations, car rental agencies, and the highways under close surveillance. Antoinette Marie had been captured because she had gone to ground in the bayou where she was known. Angelina did not intend to make that mistake. She would eventually make her way to Charleston, South Carolina, a small southern city that was big enough for her to remain anonymous and where she would not stand out.

  The plan was to abandon the boat further up the east coast and take the train back to Charleston where she would b
uy a small townhouse for cash and slowly sell Antoinette Marie’s jewelry. She would arrange a new identity and hopefully blend in. After seeing the provisions that Dan McGrath had made for her sister, she knew she didn’t need the stash she had left behind. Angelina knew that her Beaudreau roots would damn her if she was caught, but she had not been able to arbitrarily murder two people—even for Antoinette Marie. It wasn’t in her. She knew she would have to disappear permanently. Antoinette Marie’s wrath was legendary. She wouldn’t be surprised to learn that she already had some of the cousins out looking for her. She’d have to keep her head down—maybe get some facial surgery. She had already changed her hair color. It was doable, and she was going to do it.

  Chapter Twelve

  The Lowell Correctional Institution Annex in Ocala, Florida, Friday morning, May 15, 2015

  Dan had left Fort Lauderdale before dawn for the four-hour trip to Ocala. Nicollette had still been asleep, but he had told her his plans the night before. He had wanted her to be sure that he was no longer conflicted about Anne Marie. The threat of a bullet between the eyes did that for a person. When he pulled into the parking lot of the prison, he just sat in his car and tried to get his breathing and emotions under control. He’d had the long drive to think about what he wanted to say to Antoinette Marie. There was no more Anne Marie. Both his mind and his heart had finally accepted that fact. Now he had to get her to accept it as well. He called the prison and played the attorney card to get an early visiting time with his ex-wife.

  Dan was waiting in the visitation room when Antoinette Marie was brought in and her shackles were secured to the steel table. She certainly no longer looked like his Anne Marie. The polished Fort Lauderdale socialite had been replaced by a hard-looking inmate. The facts still boggled his mind, but they were the facts nonetheless. This woman had done unspeakable things, and she continued to do them. It had to stop, and he was going to stop it.