Did draw the Glock he always wore, and point it at Jack.
Did fall down, his knee buckling where Jack, drawing his own Glock, had shot him.
And then everything became truly confusing: because the whole compound outside the bungalow window had suddenly lit up as bright as day, and there were men in dark clothing, holding military rifles, and everyone seemed to be shouting.
Jack had pulled his penis out of her bottom, and after he took Jeffrey’s pistol he began to stroke her back, saying, “Don’t worry, honey. It’s going to be okay.”
Jeffrey was saying, from the floor, “What? What the fuck have you done, Jack?”
And Jack said, “Well, actually, I’ve just put you out of business, Sir Jeffrey, and made sure you’ll be in an American prison for a very long time. The special ops folks who just arrived will take care of you from here.”
“You…” The mercenary’s voice took on a tone more scornful than Tess could have imagined. Maybe the pain added to it—she had heard that knee injuries could give the most excruciating pain—but the naked brutality in his tone and in his words made her whole body go hot with anger. “You fucking whore… I hope your ass was worth what’s going to happen to this traitorous cocksucker when my vengeance finds him.”
The sound of feet, of weapons, came from the hallway.
“Target is down,” Jack called. “Wounded and disarmed.”
“Not to mention untouchable,” Jeffrey snarled. “You’re insane if you think I won’t be free within a week.”
Tess’ heart quailed. How could he be wrong? He was a baronet, for goodness’ sake.
Jack met the quizzical looks on the faces of the three soldiers who entered, at his nakedness, at Tess’ nakedness and very, very compromising position, with a wry smile. He started to pull on his underwear and pants, clearly seeing that they had Jeffrey covered.
“You’re forgetting that I know what was really happening at that picnic tomorrow, Jeffrey,” he said.
Now Jeffrey’s face contorted with true rage. “Fuck you,” he said, and then said nothing else, as he limped out of the room.
Jack sat on Tess’ bed, and helped her turn over and sit up, still weak from the huge orgasm that had precipitated, it seemed, some kind of international incident. He took her in his arms and kissed her over and over.
“I’m sorry, honey. There wasn’t any other way that I could see.”
“Sorry?” she whispered. “Why?”
“Because I had to lie to you and scare you like that. I had to make you come like that, so that Jeffrey would come in, and his men would be confused—so that the special forces could come in cleanly.”
“What’s on the island? Where the picnic was going to be?”
“A very big arms deal. With any luck we’ve got them all, now.”
Tess buried her head in his chest as her thoughts about, well, everything all seemed to change. Free… she was free.
“What about Judy and Anne-Marie?” she asked.
“They’ll be all right.” Jack stroked her hair. “As long as they testify, they can have a ticket anywhere in the world they want to go, to start over.”
A special forces soldier entered the room. “Mr. Regensburg?”
“That’s me,” Jack said.
“We need to go.”
“All right. Give us five minutes so Tess can get dressed.”
“Roger that. Good work, sir.”
“Thanks,” Jack said. Then, “All right, honey, let’s find you a going-away outfit.”
To her astonishment, Tess giggled. Strange as it seemed, she felt suddenly playful, as if everything that had seemed so dark and terrible had been transformed into bright, shiny sparkles.
“What if I don’t want to get dressed?” she asked.
“Tess…” Jack said tenderly.
The tenderness, never experienced from Jeffrey, made her brazen. “Would you spank me?”
Jack gave a snort of laughter. “I promise you, honey, I’ll spank you until you can’t sit down for a week, if you want, just as soon as I can get you somewhere private. You’ve got a lot to learn.”
Tess felt her eyes go wide, and she swallowed hard. How could he do that with such simple words. “I do?” she whispered.
Jack nodded, and stood her up, off his lap. He turned her to face him so that their faces were level, him sitting on the bed and her standing between his knees. He reached around and took in his hands the little cheeks that had received so much consequential attention that exceptional evening. Tess shivered.
“Yes, honey. You do. And a good deal of it will involve this being bare, over my knee.”
Then she kissed him, and she said, “I love you,” because what else could she say to the gorgeous hunk of a mercenary who had saved her life by putting his cock in her ass?
The End
Emily Tilton
USA Today bestselling author Emily Tilton, whose books have hit number one in six different erotica categories, is a married professor who lives in New England and has two wonderful children. Her stories are what she wishes her real sex-life could be.
Visit her blog here:
Etiltonexplorations.blogspot.com
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Written with Abbie Adams
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Anthologies
Hero Undercover
The Honey Trap
By
Lucy Wild
©2017 by Blushing Books® and Lucy Wild
All rights reserved.
No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Lucy Wild
The Honey Trap
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
Prologue
It was against the rules. I wasn’t allowed to do this. Every part of me fought against my desire. I should turn round, walk out the door, not look back. I should curse the name of the place and all those who had tempted me inside. I should run, get out of there before it was too late.
Instead, I loosened my tie, slipping the knot through my fingers, setting the last vestige of my respectability down on the back of the red leather armchair next to me. Undoing the top button of my shirt, I took another look at her, my heart already racing at the thought of what I was about to do. She looked stunningly beautiful even with the lights dimmed and her body in shadow.
Completely naked, laid on her front, she was draped over the wooden table, her wrists held by the ropes, her ankles spread wide apart. Her hair dangled down towards the floor, obscuring the blindfold I’d wrapped round her face moments before. The only sound was her breathing. The door was expertly soundproofed. Not a single noise penetrated from the rest of the club despite the ear splitting volume of the music out there. It was as if the place didn’t exist.
The only thing that existed for me was in this room. Her and me. I continued to stare as I finished unbuttoning my shirt. Could she tell I was undressing? She knew it was against the rules as much as I did. She must not have heard me. If she had, she’d have asked me what the hell I thought I was doing, stripping naked just to spank her. She’d want to know what was wrong with me. It would take a lifetime to tell her.
I stopped, resisting reaching down to remove my belt. If I took off any more layers, that would be it. I wouldn’t be able to resist her, the throb of my cock was painful enough already.
“Are you ready?” I asked, leaning down over her back to whisper in her ear, my chest pressing against her, the feel of my skin on hers making my heart race even faster.
“Y-yes,” she stuttered, her voice quiet. “Yes, Sir.”
I smiled. Being called Sir had felt strange at first but the more time had passed, the more I’d come to enjoy it. It felt right. After all, while we were inside these four walls, I was in charge. I decided what happened. I ordered. She submitted. That was why we were here. It was why she’d agreed to strip, why she’d agreed to let me bind her to the table, why I was lifting my hand above my head.
“We agreed a dozen, did we not?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Before she’d finished speaking, I’d brought my arm down through the air, slapping my palm onto her left buttock, my cock throbbing in response to the smacking sound that echoed round the room.
She let out a sharp gasp as I brought my hand away but she managed not to cry out. She soon would. My hand slapped down again on the same spot. This time, when I lifted it away, the skin of her ass began to darken. I could picture how she felt, trapped, in pain, beholden to me, unable to do anything but wait for it to end.
I spanked her twice more before pausing, shifting my position, staring at her ass as the skin reddened further. It was a sight I’d come to love, the way it accentuated her flawless skin, her soft curves, everything about her made me want her more, want to be inside her. But that was forbidden. I was to go no further than spanking. That was the rule. With my hand resting on her ass like that, all I’d have to do was slide it lower. There was nothing she’d be able to do about it. No one else in the club would know. It would be our little secret.
My hand lingered, feeling the heat from where I’d spanked her. I moved it a tiny bit lower, listening to her breathing growing heavier. The first word from her and I’d stop. A single note of dissent and nothing else would happen. All she had to do was tell me to leave her alone and I would. Neither of us would be in trouble for breaking the rules then. We could pretend there’d been no danger of that at all.
She stayed silent, even as my fingers brushed the top of her thigh, the heat of her pussy noticeable against the skin of my hand. Another half inch and I’d be touching her in the place I’d thought about so often, I’d be doing the thing I’d been aching to do since I first met her. I froze, giving her one last chance to tell me to stop.
Her hips shifted, moving towards my hand as she let out a tiny moan. It was all the encouragement I needed. I moved my hand upwards, finding her wetness, sliding my hand through it, seeking out her clit. Another moan escaped her as I slid my hand backwards, my cock pressing painfully against my trousers, wanting to be in her as much as I did.
I took a step back. This was it. I couldn’t resist any longer. I reached down to my belt and was just undoing the buckle when my phone made a noise from across the room. Swearing silently, I marched over to my jacket, hanging from a hook by the door. I pulled out my phone and read the message.
My office. Now.
Not now, I thought.
“What is it?” she asked, making me realise I must have spoken out loud.
I swiped the message away. This was my moment. No one else could make this decision for me. I had to choose. My employer or the woman I wanted more than any other? A choice harder than any I’d ever had to make. And I got the feeling that whichever option I took, my life would never be the same again.
Chapter 1
Kathryn
I wasn’t sure whether or not to tell him. He’d likely find out if I didn’t. He found out everything. But then, why should I make his life easier? I was a grown up, for crying out loud. I’d long passed the stage where my father needed to know everything about me. Just because he was a politician, that didn’t mean I’d signed up too. I was my own person, no matter how regularly he told me otherwise.
“What you do reflects on me,” he said so often when I was growing up that it might as well have been painted on my bedroom wall in giant black letters. “Your behaviour has consequences, things you might think nothing of now can come back and bite me later on.”
I would nod, acting as if I had the faintest idea what he was talking about.
“So, when you hit another girl at school… so, when you cross the street without looking… so, when you slouch in church…” I could spend forever listing the things that he thought would affect his career. “When you do those things, it has an effect on those around you, ripples that you might not even be aware of. Do you see, Kathryn?”
I could picture what would happen if I told him about this. It would be the same conversation we’d had hundreds, maybe thousands of times before. Did I want him to lose his job? Did I want the public to vote him out? Did I want to be the one who ruined his chance to change the world?
I looked up at him. He was slowly sipping from his soup spoon, his eyes fixed on the phone which was laid on the table next to him. That phone was more important than me by far. Why distract him from it? Still, I had to try. He was my father, after all. Didn’t he have a right to know?
“I’ve got an interview tomorrow,” I said, picking up my glass of water.
“Hmm,” was the only reaction I got followed a few seconds later by, “that’s nice.”
“It’s for a job.”
“Would you look at this, that son of a bitch has clawed back two points in the polls.”
“A job at a bar.”
“Give me a minute, sweetie. I just need to ring Nate.”
I rolled my eyes. I swear if he could have swapped me for his special advisor, he’d have been far happier. Then he could have talked work at home and at the office without the pretense of a family life.
I wondered what my mother would have done if she were still alive. Would she have been able to contain him, to make him see that there wasn’t much point reaching the top of the ladder if you had to leave everyone behind to do it? Or would she have boosted him up? It was a pointless question. She wasn’t around to ask.
I pushed my plate away. “Excuse me,” I muttered, getting to my feet and turning away. He didn’t even notice. He was already ranting into the phone.
“Nate? Ernest here. Have you seen the poll results?” Pause. “Don’t tell me to relax. What the hell are we going to do about it?”
His voice faded away as I headed upstairs to my room. I’d told him at least. He might not have listened but that wasn’t my fault. My conscience was clear. I’d told him I was interviewing for my first proper job.
Since finishing college for the summer, I had been looking for work. It wasn’t that I needed the money especially. It was the independence. I didn’t want to be relying on him for money forever. I wanted to stand on my own feet, work for a living, see what it was like to support myself.
I lay on my bed and dug out my phone, dialling Jessica’s number. Of all my friends, she was the only one who knew about the interview.
“Kitty Kat,” she said when she answered. “I was just thinking about you.”
“Oh yes?”
“Yeah, I was just thinking how much hotter than you I look in this bikini.”
“You went shopping then?”
“I am standing in front of my mirror looking so sexy, I’m surprised Vigo the Carpathian doesn’t leap out and take me.”
“Will you ever speak to me without including an eighties reference?”
<
br /> “Maybe. Bueller?”
I frowned as I lay back and stretched my feet out. “Hang on, Vigo came out of a painting, not a mirror.”
“All right, Little Miss Pedant. The Candyman then.”
“What, in between handing out sweets and singing a song so sickly it made me want to throw up on a squirrel?”
“Imagine if it was The Candyman working in that shop. I’m not sure Charlie would have survived to make it to the factory.”
“It would make sense though, murder town 101. A coldly psychotic monster spending his time bumping off kids,” I paused, “and then The Candyman.”
She giggled. “I can’t talk this shit with anyone else, do you know that? So, did you tell him?”
“I tried. He wouldn’t listen.”
“Shocker. Ernest Waterman doesn’t listen. I’ll alert the papers, shall I?”
“Very funny, Jessica.” She was right but it didn’t stop it jabbing at me a little. My father was famous for steamrollering those who got in his way but the familial bond still made me want to defend him, if that makes sense.
“What will you do if he finds out?”
“I haven’t even been to the interview yet, give me a chance.”
“That reminds me. About that, I meant to mention something.” She went quiet.
“Well, what is it? The bar’s actually a front for mafia drug laundering?”
She laughed. “No, nothing like that. I just don’t want you to freak out if they mention the back room at the interview.”
“The back room? What back room?”
I heard her sigh. I knew that sigh. It meant she was working out how to word something.
“Come on,” I said. “Spit it out.”
“Like your mom.”
Only Jessica could make a joke like that about my mother. “What is it?” I asked, becoming impatient. “It can’t be that bad, can it?”
Hero Undercover: 25 Breathtaking Bad Boys Page 134
