“Kate, you’re safe.”
Those words stirred a desire toward obedience.
“Feel me, darlin’. I have you.”
The tip of a nose trailed down my neck. Warm lips pressed against my collarbone, released, and pressed again. I shifted my head to better expose the vulnerable skin of my neck, my body responding to the firm touch. Tension eased from my muscles as hands and lips caressed my skin.
The warmth of an exhalation interrupted the rewind of my mind.
The memory snapped, fizzled.
Hard muscles surrounded me. A slow, reassuring breath heated my ear. A familiar scent aroused me, heady and sensual. At ease and at peace, I opened my eyes and blinked. I found myself staring into the brilliant blue eyes of Jake Davenport.
He sat in a waiting room chair and encased me in his arms, holding me in his lap. The position was so natural that I curved an arm around his neck and twirled my fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck.
The chill of the flashback faded and was replaced by a different sensation. A flutter of arousal stirred within me. Pressed up against him, the heat of his body flooded into mine. I pushed against his chest with my palm, suddenly afraid but too entranced to really want to move.
He held me, and I was happy to stay in his arms, making only another halfhearted effort to push away. Although, to be honest, he terrified me. The only reason I didn’t jerk away was because I didn’t want him to smell my fear.
“No.” His command gave me pause, and I stilled at his words. “Just sit for a moment. You’re not steady enough to be on your own.”
Of all the people in the world, I couldn’t afford Jake to see weakness in me. Not when curling in his embrace felt so right. Not when he smelled so damn good.
A deep inhalation brought the clean, fresh scent of him zinging straight to my brain, awakening sensual centers I hadn’t felt in years. Not to mention, his proximity stirred up other, more primal desires best left buried.
In many ways, I owed my life to my Master who’d hooked me on pain. Strange to think it had been almost fifteen years ago. The genesis of the Mistress of Pain began with submission born of a desperate desire to please. Submission that nearly cost me my life. I hadn’t survived that experience to make the same mistake ever again. It wasn’t that I couldn’t trust other Doms. Good ones existed out there, and I didn’t doubt Jake might be one of them.
I was the person who couldn’t be trusted.
Even if Jake’s strong arms and intoxicating scent soothed the galloping pace of my heart, I couldn’t risk letting him in; I risked falling. Too far. Too fast. To a place that wasn’t safe or sane.
The urge to slide off his lap and kneel at his feet rushed over and through me with the ebb and flow of conflicting needs.
It didn’t change a damn thing. My path was clear. My role had been cemented with the spilling of my blood all those years ago. Never could I trust my life, my heart, or my desires to a man again. If they didn’t take everything, I would give it freely, until I disappeared completely.
The richness of his voice, that slight twang, might push back the panic edging in the periphery of my mind, but it did nothing to ease the madness lurking deep inside. I remained desperately broken, the pieces held together by a fragile truce between need and desire.
There had been a dark time in my life once, where the ghost of my traumatic past ruled my life. In the months following that night, helplessness had claimed me.
Counselors failed to control my litany of symptoms, but mostly I felt weak and out of control. The one thing that did remain constant, though, was the desire for pain. Halfhearted attempts to self-inflict left me weeping and unfulfilled. It wasn’t until the day I lashed out that everything changed.
Control wasn’t all that mattered. Power mattered too. It kept my memories buried deep where they belonged, and not on the surface, where they would be bleeding, raw wounds, making me weak.
I hated weakness above everything else.
The residual adrenaline surging in my veins had my hands trembling and my belly fluttering.
Of all the people to witness a meltdown, why did it have to be him?
I wanted up. But damn, the man knew how to hold a woman. The cage of his arms wrapped me in a blanket of security. I could stay here forever.
My cheeks burned with shame. I pushed against him.
He laughed. “I promise to let you go, but you’re not ready. Do you mind telling me what just happened?”
“I’m fine.” I shoved against him, harder this time. “Release me. I’m not weak!”
“Never said you were, darling. Just said you aren’t ready to get up. I’ll let you go if you promise to sit like a good girl. I haven’t decided yet if you won’t fall over.” His words flowed over me, stroking me with a dominant’s caress.
I wanted to lean on him—melt into him. Instead, I jabbed him in the ribs. “Don’t you dare ‘good girl’ me, Jake Davenport. I’m not one of your subs. And I’ll decide if I’m good to go.” So much for feeling safe. “Let me up.”
I ran my hands over my face and scrubbed at unshed tears. Damned to hell if I’d let any fall. I didn’t try to stand, despite wanting to, because he was right. I’d topple right over. No reason to give him the satisfaction of saying “I told you so.”
Instead, I slid into an adjoining chair and cupped my head in my hands. So embarrassing that he was right.
I looked up and saw Pete. He was back to leaning against the wall. His face was pale, drawn, concerned. His eyes narrowed. A silent question passed between us, but I reassured him with a look. I had my shit back together.
Sort of.
“Tell me what happened.” Jake’s tone demanded an answer. “Why did that video set you off?”
I opened my mouth to answer.
Wait.
Was that a command in his tone? No way was I going to let him interrogate me. With a snap, I sat up straight, desperately trying to regain my dignity and some control.
My gaze locked on his. “None of your damn business.” Goose bumps popped out on my arms, irritating me. I was made of sterner stuff.
His eyes hardened. “Darling, I recognize a trigger when I see one.”
I hated that he recognized anything. What else could he see?
I hated being an open book to anyone. Well, I certainly wasn’t going to share my life story with him, especially that story.
I stood and wobbled on my shaky legs. “Don’t call me darling. I’m not your darling anything.” This whole case was nothing but one big trigger. Reason number one to distance myself from it, but that wasn’t going to happen. Elizabeth and I shared too much, and I was determined to find her justice, no matter the cost to me. And as a member of the kink community, I felt obligated to police it. What those men had done to her sickened me.
He snaked out a hand to pull me back down, but I evaded his grip.
“Damn it, Kate. It’s okay to let people help.”
It had been years since my last flashback, and now I’d had two in one day. I walked over to the computer and ejected the drive, then held it out to Pete. “Take this to the police chief.”
Jake muttered something about bullheaded dominant women.
Pete took the thumb drive. “You sure you’re fine?”
I gave a sharp jerk of my chin. “I’m fine.” Which meant I was far from being fine.
He arched a brow, not in challenge, but with understanding.
Pete knew me too damn well.
“Don’t.” My gaze landed on Jake’s magnetic blues and fell into an indomitable well of power. Transfixed, our gazes locked, and I caved, settling into the chair by Mitzy’s computer. “We’ll talk…later, Pete.”
We’d been partners. Pete knew when to push and when to walk away. This was one of those times he knew to take a hike.
He came over and gripped my hand, gave it a quick squeeze. “Later then, partner.”
He glanced between Jake and me, seeming uncertain whether to leave the two of us alo
ne. On his way out, he stopped and spoke to Jake. “I need you to make a statement about where this came from and how you came by it.”
Jake’s eyes never left mine. Too much power pulsed between us. His low, raspy drawl spilled through the air; beneath it an undercurrent of steel held me in its thrall.
“I’ll bring Kevin by tomorrow if that’s okay with you?”
Pete nodded. He shoved the thumb drive into his pocket. “Yeah, that’s good. Uh, it was nice to meet you.”
Jake tore his focus from me, giving me respite from the intense stare-down, and turned toward Pete. “Do I need an appointment or anything?”
“Nah, just ask for Detective Lawry. I’ll be there all day.” With a jingle of the bell, Pete exited.
The door shut, leaving us alone. Nervous from my meltdown and unsettled now that it was just the two of us, the tremors in my hands were difficult to hide. I pressed my hands on my knees and threaded my fingers together into a tight, overlapping mess of tension.
A throbbing settled behind my temples. Probably a lingering effect of the flashback. I wasn’t really sure if I’d actually passed out or not and was too embarrassed to ask.
I needed him gone. “You should probably leave too.”
“You may have him fooled, but what the fuck? You’re not okay.”
He made as if to stand, but I held up a cautioning hand, and he settled back in the chair.
“I’m fine.” Time to get rid of him and restore order to my world. “Thank you for bringing that video over.”
“Thank you?” He spread his fingers over his knees. His jaw dropped, his mouth falling open as if in shock. “That’s it? You’re just back to business like nothing happened?”
“Look, what do you want?”
“I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I said I was fine. Now, you’ve done what you came here to do.” I made a shooing gesture toward the door. “It’s late, and I have things I need to get done.”
“I’m not leaving.”
I pointed to the door. “I said I was fine.” As in leave me alone.
His eyes pinched as if he didn’t believe me. Instead he redirected with a question. “Why’d you give that video to Pete? You didn’t even make a copy. Aren’t you going to investigate?”
“No.”
Yes, of course I was.
The triggers this case uncovered worried me, though. And especially the ones that video provoked. It might be best to let the cops deal with the video while I explored other leads.
“No?”
“That’s what I said.” Why I lied to him, I hadn’t a clue, but I felt a need to be defiant around him.
“Seriously? You’re letting the cops take over?”
“It’s a homicide now. I do PI work. They don’t need me.”
“You can’t lie to a Dom.”
“Easy there. You’re not my Dom.”
A frustrated growl escaped him. “You know what I mean. Those cops aren’t going to know what to do. They’re just going to bumble-fuck it up.”
“Bumble-fuck? Not a very Domly term, Jake Davenport.” His shoulders tensed when I used his full name. I filed that fact away. I might need the ammunition later.
“Whatever. Come on. You know what I mean. A murder within the lifestyle is going to have the cops pissing in their pants. How do you think they’re going to investigate this?”
“They’re trained professionals. A little kink isn’t going to put them off their game. Murder is murder.”
I didn’t like him disparaging cops. I used to be one, and I knew the caliber of people I used to work with. I respected them, despite our differences, and we had once worked through some tough shit.
They could handle this case.
“But don’t you think you can help? Lend your expertise to the investigation? Go where they can’t?”
“Like I said, they don’t need my help. And warrants can get them anywhere they need to go.”
“You’re smarter than that. You know there are places the cops just can’t go. Talk to the mayor. Have him assign you as a consultant.”
Jake didn’t need to know the mayor hired me to assist the police investigation. “Why do you care?”
His eyes shifted up and to the left. “Are you going to do it or not?”
“That depends, Jake Davenport.”
What did he have vested in my case?
“What are you not telling me?” My challenging question hung in the air between us.
Chapter Eight
Jake
Infuriating woman. Why couldn’t she answer my questions like a reasonable person? I wanted to reach out and throttle her—and kiss her while I was there.
After having brought her the video, she better damn well investigate it. The cops would botch the whole thing. Worst decision ever. I had to convince her to take the case.
Generally, I didn’t have problems getting women to do what I wanted. A smile. A wink. That good old Davenport charm. Something about Kate Summers had me tripping over myself, and I didn’t appreciate the way she pushed back. I take that back. I loved the way the woman challenged me. She was a refreshing change from the submissive women I had trained.
Bottom line, I wasn’t leaving. She wasn’t going to point to the door and expect I’d tuck tail and go. I wasn’t some dog she could order around. When I was damn well and ready, I’d leave, and since I hadn’t kissed her yet, I wasn’t ready.
Man, she had felt good in my arms. I needed her back there. My cock twitched, thinking about the kiss I was going to give her. I wanted to delve deep inside her moist heat and taste her.
I shifted to make room in my pants for the throbbing hard-on she had given me. One of my more primal kinks centered on conquest, and it roared to life as she perched on the edge of the chair, staring back with that challenge on her face. I yearned to take her down and claim her.
Very inappropriate, considering her vulnerable state. Yet the harder I tried to suppress my urges, the more my insistent cock pulsed with need. I glanced at my crotch and smirked. Such a literal prick.
Bastards like me didn’t deserve women like Kate Summers. Problem was, only the strong ones like her were worth taking. I definitely wanted to take her. I wanted to devour the complex woman with every beat of my heart and every pull of my breath. My desperation sickened me because every nerve in my body knew how wrong it was to take something not freely offered.
The problem lay in the vividness of her eyes. Every glance and every twitch of that luscious mouth was a challenge. Even now I wanted to stand over her, command her to wrap those lips around my cock and suck me in with long, sure pulls. Such a haunting quality to her gaze too. Once I got past the challenge in it, of course.
The dominant within me tried to envelop her in my strength. After her traumatic meltdown, she needed protection, tenderness, and care. Vulnerability lay inside of her, calling out to my protective instincts. Only she wouldn’t let me close.
She regarded me with a dispassionate gaze, her arms folded over breasts perfectly sized for my hands. Her finger tapped the opposite elbow in an incessant rhythm.
“I won’t ask the mayor,” she said.
What had we been talking about?
Right, I’d asked her to have the mayor assign her as a consultant on his daughter’s murder investigation. I gave a nod, pretending I’d been listening instead of fantasizing about claiming her as my slave.
“If you’re half as good as your reputation, there’s no way you’ll let this go.” I placed my elbows on my knees and rested my chin on my broad hands. “Why would you? Seems to me, solving this case can help you work through whatever it was that happened to you.”
She straightened. “Don’t even go there, Jake Davenport. You assume too much.”
Ugh. I jerked on the crispness she inflected on the hard consonants of my name. Her words could cut if I let them. To distance myself from her sharp tongue, I let my gaze wander over her body in a leisurely admiration of her gen
tle curves. A purposeful diversion to put her off her game. “Fair enough, but we both know I’m right.”
She didn’t flinch under my scrutiny, but then a Mistress would feel comfortable under a man’s gaze. My mistake. She was used to being worshipped by men. Well, I had no problem admiring a beautiful woman. If she was going to let me look, I would devour her.
After a few moments, she shifted on the edge of the chair, cracking under my open admiration. “The only solid lead I have is the Edge. It’s the last place Elizabeth was seen alive.”
I straightened with this news. Of course I’d recognized Elizabeth in the picture last night, but I hadn’t known until Kevin unearthed that tape what had happened to the beautiful submissive I’d trained. “How do you know that?”
I had never seen Lizzy at the Edge before, but I had recognized the scenery where those men had taken her down. “Then you have a suspect?”
She shook her head. “I have a lead. He took Elizabeth there the day before she died.”
“You need to tell me his name.” I would be able to get Thomas, owner of the Edge, to look into it.
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not divulging my sources. I need to go to the Edge and poke around.” Her eyes twinkled. “But there seems to be a problem with an invitation.”
Yes, a very big one. “I’m not sure how going there will help. She wasn’t killed there, but she was there.”
She leaned toward me, exposing her cleavage for a better view.
I wasn’t shy about admiring her breasts. “Those woods appear to be on the grounds at the Edge, but I don’t recognize that building.”
“You recognize a bunch of trees?” She gave me a look like I was an idiot.
I laughed. “Yes, I’ve hunted in them.” I flashed her my most disarming smile.
My smile bombed because she frowned instead of giving me the flush I had been expecting.
“You kill Bambi?”
I would have thought a Mistress would have guessed what kind of hunting I had implied.
“Not Bambi.” I stood and paced. “Women are hunted in those woods.” Just like Elizabeth had been hunted.
A chill went down my spine, thinking about her final moments. How scared had she been? I believed in safe and sane practices. Consensual play was the foundation of everything I did. What happened to Elizabeth violated the tenets of everything I believed in.
Command (Changing Roles Book 1) Page 9
