Command (Changing Roles Book 1)

by Ellie Masters

  Ah, so cute and overly protective. “Now, Pete, you know I can’t talk about…” At the rounding of his eyes, I knew I’d just said the wrong thing.

  “Ah, so he’s a client?” His eyes flashed. “So, what could that man possibly want with the woman whose career he ruined?” He stroked his chin. “Do you want me to guess, or will you make it easy and just tell me?”

  I settled back in my chair and crossed my arms. This would be a fun game.

  “Okay, then,” he said with an impish grin. “I don’t think he’s worried about his wife cheating on him. That frigid bitch barely knows what to do with his cock, let alone another man’s.”

  “Pete!” I jerked back. “That’s pretty lowbrow, even for you.”

  “What?” He chuckled. “Okay, so he’s not hiring you to investigate infidelity. And he wouldn’t have been in your office if it was the other way around…unless his wife hired you and he was offering a bribe to keep you silent?” His flat expression gave me pause.

  I returned a blank look. He knew better than that.

  “Okay, so not that either. So…their only other skeletons would have to be with their children.” He paused and searched my expressionless face. Pete could always read me. “So, not about the son, which leaves the runaway. I’m betting it had to do with the girl.”

  I did my best to give him nothing, but I’d been his rookie partner. He trained me.

  “Tell me…hot or cold?”

  “I’m not saying a word.”

  “Her body was brought in as a Jane Doe. The coroner is a golf buddy with the mayor. They’re trying to keep it out of the press, but news like this has a way of spreading. Which has me wondering, why would he ask you to investigate?”

  My silence continued, but whatever I wasn’t saying was enough for him to place the final piece of the puzzle.

  “If he came to you…” His eyes lit up. “No fucking way! His daughter was involved in that lifestyle crap. Was that it?”

  Since I hadn’t said a word, my client confidentiality remained intact, not that I really cared. I didn’t owe the Westmorelands my loyalty.

  “Shit, is this something everyone is into except me?”

  His gaze darted down. Then he bit his lower lip and raised his eyes to meet mine. I saw something that surprised me. Desire and shame swam in his eyes.

  In a soft whisper he said, “You know, just once I want to go to one of those clubs and see what all the excitement is about.”

  “If you want to go, then go. There’s always lots of eager submissive women looking for a good time.”

  His gaze lowered again. “That’s not exactly what I was thinking.” Embarrassment radiated off him in waves.

  “Pete? Are you gay?”

  He jerked back, the expression on his face one of intense distaste. “Hell no!”

  Definitely not gay. “Then what?” I chose my next words carefully, hoping I was wrong. “Do you want to go with me?”

  That would be weird. Pete submitting to me? I couldn’t do to him what I did to the other men. The agony I put them through would break him. Besides, he was my big marshmallow friend.

  He sighed and closed his eyes. He shook his head. “Not with you.” His eyes flew open, and his gaze darted about the room, completely unable to look me in the eye. “I mean…that would be weird.”

  Yeah, we were on the same page about that. I tried not to laugh. “Would you like me to arrange an introduction to a Domme?”

  He gave the slightest nod.

  Oh, thank God. That I could do. Such a simple thing. “All you ever had to do was ask.”

  “Don’t you think it’s weird?”

  “You’re asking me? The woman who was fired for dominating men?” How clueless could a man be? “How long have you been waiting to ask me this?”

  His face turned a beautiful shade of scarlet. “I don’t want to look like a total idiot, but it kind of sounds…interesting. Do you think you could show me how to act and what to expect, and not…not tease me about it?”

  I waved a hand, trying to put him at ease. “Of course.” Who knew Pete was a submissive?

  “Good.”

  The bell on the door jangled.

  That was odd.

  I wasn’t expecting anyone, but maybe it was a new client. I could only hope. I turned toward the one-way glass to see who had entered. Pete shifted forward to look with me.

  Jake Davenport scanned the outer office. A troubled expression marred the perfection of his face, creasing the corners of his eyes and furrowing his brow.

  He wasn’t breathtakingly handsome. He was imperfect but beautiful because of it. Beneath his tailored trousers and Oxford shirt, rippling muscles filled out the fabric, hinting at the promise of a sensuous energy demanding to be contained. A palpable force extended outward from him, generating a reaction within me I could not control.

  My urge to dominate evaporated beneath the intensity of his physical presence, and a different desire surged forth, one I’d worked years to suppress.

  He threatened my control, and I didn’t like how my stomach dropped or how my breathing hitched. My mouth parted as I stared, and I hated myself for acting the fool.

  Pete vented a low, throaty chuckle. “Who is Tall, Dark, and Handsome? And why are you panting like a schoolgirl?”

  I flashed my old partner a venomous look. “I am not panting like a schoolgirl.”

  Total lie. Drool practically spilled from the corners of my mouth.

  “Of course not,” said Pete. He crossed his arms and stared at me. “Well, are you going to keep him waiting? Or should I go say hi?”

  No way was I letting Pete out there without me. “I just decided which Mistress to give you to.”

  Mandy would be perfect for him.

  “You can thank me later.”

  He gave me a look, but I held up a finger, cautioning him to silence. “The correct response is, ‘Thank you, Mistress.’ I won’t make you kneel to me outside a club, but don’t push me.”

  I pointed to the man waiting in the outer office. “That is Jake Davenport, part owner of Stripes, the club I’ll be taking you to. There’s a hierarchy in my world. He’s at the top, and you are not.”

  Pete’s eyes widened, and he took a step back. His arms dropped to his sides. “Shoot, Kate, I was just joking. The look on your face…”

  Was one of adoration, need, and a desire to submit. Yeah, I knew the look on my face. I felt it in my bones and in the throbbing between my thighs. I didn’t understand it one bit.

  I regarded Jake through the glass with a tight-lipped expression and a heavy heart. It was dangerous for me to be around him.

  In my mind, my fingers traced across his broad shoulders and dipped down to feel the bulge of bicep beneath that shirt. I’d move along the tendons of his forearms, settling my hands within his.

  Waiting.

  Wondering what it would feel like to have him capture my hands. I shook my head to clear it of such thoughts.

  I turned to Pete. “Stay here. I need to see why he’s here. It may be about my case.” At least I hoped it was. If he was here on personal business, I’d have to kick him out.

  “Sure. No problem.” But mischief flashed in Pete’s eyes.

  I didn’t trust him to do as I asked.

  I scooted past Pete and through the doorway of my private office.

  “Mr. Davenport,” I said in my most neutral voice. “What brings you here?”

  Jake’s eyes swept past me to focus on the man trailing behind me. Dammit, Pete. He was never good at following orders.

  Jake looked like he was going to say something but silenced whatever it was when he realized I had company.

  I turned and gave Pete a flash of evil eyes.

  He returned my dagger stare with a grin. I would have punched him if Jake wasn’t staring at me with the deepest blue eyes I’d ever seen.

  I took in a breath, blew it out, and straightened my spine. “Pete Lawry, may I introduce Jake Davenport. J
ake is co-owner of Stripes, a local members-only nightclub.”

  Pete sidled around me—bastard—and thrust his hand forward. “Nice to meet one of the Davenports.”

  My brows lifted. I’d been so busy trying to dismantle Jake’s power base that my mind had slipped right past the Davenport name. His family truly had a rich and colorful history in our corner of the South, but I hadn’t heard anything about a Jake Davenport. He must keep a low profile among his family.

  Jake accepted Pete’s hand. The men sized each other up as men did, testing the strength of a personality within the firmness of a handshake. I had a feeling Jake won that struggle from the grimace scrawled across Pete’s face. Served him right for interjecting himself into my business.

  Jake released Pete’s hand with a nod. “Yes. An old family name with plenty of skeletons floating around to keep the gossips going. It’s like that when your family history stretches so far back.”

  Pete shook out his hand, covering his distress with a laugh. “I’m sorry for the loss of your father.”

  A hardening of Jake’s jaw lasted a fleeting second. “Thank you, but that was some time ago.”

  “He was such a strong supporter of the local community. His loss has been felt by so many.”

  Another twisting of Jake’s lip, a pause a second too long. His reaction had me wondering if he didn’t share Pete’s sentiment about his father.

  Jake cleared his throat. “Thank you for the kind words.”

  Pete rubbed the top of his head, perhaps realizing he’d said too much. But that was my friend. Personal boundaries often confused him, which made him even more awkward. And that made his verbal diarrhea worse.

  “Ah, well…um, let’s see. Didn’t you work out on the West Coast, in movies? I always thought that would be so cool. Can’t see why you came back here.”

  “It sounds more glamorous than it was. I worked on legal rights mostly,” said Jake. “When my father passed, I came home and realized how much I missed it here.” He didn’t elaborate further.

  Those long fingers of his ran through his rich dark hair, entrancing me. The sweep of it fell over his brow. His eyes, brilliant and piercing, kept flicking toward me. Each time they did, my gaze skittered away.

  Pete crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall. Looked like his verbal soup was drying up. “Well, it’s nice to meet you.”

  “How long have you known each other?” Jake turned his attention to me and let his crystalline blues travel up and down my body.

  I responded just to keep Pete from saying anything more. “We used to work Homicide. He works in SVU now.” I’d only worked homicide for a year before getting the can. It took most cops ten years or more to work themselves up from beat cop and through the ranks of detective. I’d earned my detective badge after four years on the beat and breezed past the purgatory of petty crimes and larceny, making homicide in seven years flat.

  Pete couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “Kate was the best damn homicide detective on the force until the mayor got all uppity and sacked her.” He flashed me a smile, pleased to sing my praises.

  “SVU?” Jake looked to Pete for an explanation.

  “Special Victims Unit. I transferred over when Kate got the can. The whole thing left a sour taste in my mouth.”

  I didn’t like my past being talked about. “Did you come here for a reason, Jake?” Was it for me? I hated that I cared.

  “I came about your case.” Jake’s eyes darkened.

  “We were just talking about it,” said Pete. “The suicide…”

  Jake’s tone turned serious. “That girl was murdered.”

  “We don’t know that for certain,” I said, or at least that information hadn’t been made public knowledge.

  I was uncomfortable discussing my case with them, but Jake seemed to know things he shouldn’t. I needed to know how he got his information.

  “You do now.” He held out a thumb drive. “This surfaced after you left last night. I heard whispers at the club about that photo you were flashing around. My business partner tracked down a copy of this.”

  My eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I never told anyone her name. Or that she was murdered. How did you know to look for her in a video? How would you even find anything like that?”

  His stare fixed me in place. “Our video monitoring is state-of-the art. Facial recognition is only a piece of it. After you made the rounds, flashing that picture, I got interested. Kevin matched her picture to a video after security triggered on some of our members talking about a snuff tape.”

  Pete grabbed the drive out of Jake’s hand. He left me standing in the doorway to my office and went to Mitzy’s computer. He rebooted the computer and inserted the drive, then clicked on the indicated file.

  The film was shot by an amateur, complete with shaky frame. Elizabeth was outside, smiling. Trees were in the background. Wherever this was shot, it was out of town. Then she was running, laughing, her hair streaming behind her as the cameraman pursued. A man in a mask captured her, bound her tight. Elizabeth’s laughter faded, and her expression turned to confusion, worry, then panic took over.

  The film cut off. It restarted with her tied to a rafter. Her arms were stretched overhead, wrists secured to the beam by cuffs. The same had been done to her ankles, pulling her legs wide. The belt that eventually killed her hung around her neck, but it had yet to be tightened.

  Wide, terrified, and very alive eyes stared straight into the camera lens. Elizabeth’s gaze darted upward. She couldn’t scream. They’d gagged her, something that had been removed when her body had been found.

  Icy fingers gripped my shoulders and sent tendrils down my spine. A distant roaring rushed toward me, smothering the world in a fog of gray. My mouth dried up, and my throat closed tight.

  I couldn’t breathe. As the video played, my world dissolved into the past.

  From somewhere very far away, a man’s voice sounded. “Kate?”

  My mind looped, caught within the nightmare of time.

  “Holy shit. Kate!”

  Chapter Seven

  Kate

  Male voices called out to me.

  One frantic and insubstantial. The other a steady, rich baritone, reaching out with the strength of steel, demanding an answer.

  But I was too far gone.

  Strung to a beam. Hands bound overhead. Shadows enveloped me, but light danced at the edges of my vision.

  My feet pressed against a hard floor, damp against my soles. The chill spread upward, stealing my strength. Reawakened trauma bloomed inside my mind. Joints and ligaments stretched past my body’s endurance.

  So much pain.

  And warmth.

  Sticky liquid trickled down from cuts on my wrists. No sound except a shuffling of feet as my Master circled me while I bled. The clicking of his camera filled my ears. The movie played, then stuttered, rewound, and played again.

  Click. Click. Click!

  Blood dripped down the lines of my arms, fell on my cheeks, splashed into my eyes. Warmth left me only to be replaced by a growing chill. And peace.

  The inevitability of death approached, and I welcomed it with open arms.

  Booted feet brought the deep-throated yelling of men. But above it, or through it, one sound reigned supreme. His camera kept clicking even as they took him down.

  They cut me down from the wooden beam and laid me on the ground. The world dimmed. A sharp prick in my arm was followed by a stinging, prickling sensation. Searing fluid surged toward my heart, reviving me.

  I fought my rescuers, pulling at the tubes snaking into my arms and tossing the scratchy blankets to the side. I deserved to die.

  The vision dimmed, and all was dark.

  Rewind.

  Another loop.

  His footsteps. The beam. My hands. The trickling blood. Flash. Click, click, click! Men. So cold.

  “Kate!” A man’s frightened cry sent me spinning away.

  “Kate, come back.”
A voice commanded.

  I gravitated toward that sound, needing the comfort of that power to surround me.

  Someone shook me, jerking my head. A hand slapped my cheek, jarring the images in my head. The flashing of a camera’s light popped in my mind. That horrible chill wormed its way into my body. Warmth fled my core, and I followed it, my mind running.

  “Goddamn it, Pete,” said the deep baritone. “Stop that.”

  Smooth, liquid sounds surrounded me, pulled me toward sanctuary and strength. Caught between two places, not sure where I was, or who was speaking, I paused.

  “She’s not responding. Oh my God, she’s cold as ice.” The panicked voice flung me outward again, throwing me back into the fragments of madness.

  “Kate!” The commanding voice demanded I obey. He drew me to him.

  The harsh sting of a hand across my cheek jolted me. My head jerked to the side.

  “Goddamn it, Pete, stop slapping her!”

  The slapping stopped.

  The heady aroma of man called to my most base instincts. My nostrils struggled to breathe him in as he held me within the comfort of his embrace, sheltering me, protecting me, and cradling me in a cage of steel.

  Hands gripped my shoulders. They pulled me into a wall of solid muscle. The haven of safety lured me with promise of so much more. I breathed, but my sinuses swelled and clogged, denying me the scent of him.

  His cheek pressed against mine. Whispered words filled my ear with power.

  A calming presence took over my mind.

  “Kate, come to me. Follow my voice, and come to me.”

  I tumbled into the caress of those words. Captivated, I had no choice but to obey.

  “What the hell?” The screeching voice shattered my world and sent me into another rewind.

  Footsteps…click…click…click!

  “Shut the fuck up, Pete. She’s in shock.”

  The harsh timbre of those words demanded my compliance. Arms wrapped around me, secured me in that cage. The confinement eased my panicked state.