by Maren Smith
Unfortunately, he couldn’t sleep. He loved having Holly next to him; her curvy warmth setting his body on fire. Her hair smelled like chemicals and he couldn’t wait to wash it out, but it was almost overpowered by the sweet scent of lavender and her own musk. He hated that damned color and wished it hadn’t been necessary. It wasn’t that he didn’t like redheads, but Holly’s wavy mane of honey and walnut strands was perfect as it was. It was weird and leaning toward obsessive creepiness, but he wanted to comb through her hair and count how many shades there were.
Carmen had come too close to seeing Holly’s face tonight. If he had, there would have been nothing Flint could have done to protect her. Worse, if he’d tried, he’d have blown his cover. The Castle was the absolute worst place a scumbag like Carmen could be. Despite the safety measures in place and the zero-tolerance policy for abuse, Flint was sure Carmen would find some way to make trouble. He’d toed the line tonight, but Flint was sure he’d step over before they found Grace.
If Carmen wasn’t very careful, he’d find himself kicked out of the Castle. He would still go after Grace Barnes, but it wouldn’t be under such controlled circumstances. Here, Carmen was more or less confined, and the sheer number of people limited his activities.
Of course, that also raised the possibility of collateral damage. Carmen wouldn’t give a moment’s thought to killing an innocent. Flint would never say it out loud, but the resort residents might be planning more than one funeral after this weekend. Even worse, he wouldn’t be around to soothe Holly’s grief.
The minute Flint’s handler got back with the information he needed, it would be done and over without having to chase the little fuck.
He flinched when a soft knock sounded at the door. Checking first to make sure Holly was asleep, he crawled out of bed and opened the door, careful to stay quiet. He wanted to roll his eyes at the sight of Carmen. Could he not get a single minute’s peace from the man? Flint knew better than to allow his thoughts to show on his face and nodded a benign greeting.
Carmen was still dressed in his costume. The scraggly beard covering his face plus the red cape made him almost unrecognizable.
“What’s up, boss?”
“Come on. We’re going to do a little exploring. I want to find where they’ve stashed Grace.”
Though he didn’t want to leave Holly alone, Flint nodded. If Carmen was busy looking for Grace, he wouldn’t be nosing after Holly. “Sure. Let me get dressed.”
Carmen pushed past him and smirked down at Holly. “Looks like you wore her out. Pick a healthy girl next time. They have more endurance.”
Flint pulled his kilt over his hips, hiding a grimace of distaste as he turned to grab his leather vest. Carmen was too narrow minded to see the muscles on Holly’s frame. All he saw was her size. His Holly was fit and strong.
No, not his Holly. Only in his dreams would she ever be that.
“It was the other way around, boss. I’m exhausted, so let’s make this quick.”
Carmen blinked and his eyes narrowed in speculation as he looked down at Holly. Flint tapped his foot impatiently, hoping Carmen would get the hint. He shouldn’t have said a word, but his defense of Holly was automatic. Thankfully, Carmen nodded and walked out of the room, Flint close on his heels.
As the door shut behind them, Carmen said, “I’m thinking the bigwigs have their rooms on the third floor. I bet they’ve stashed Grace up there.” His gaze hardened and he stopped, squeezing Flint’s arm. “Don’t forget that Grace is our main goal here. Don’t get all wrapped up in that fat piece of ass, understand?”
Flint bit his tongue and tasted coppery blood. It took everything he had to stop himself from reaching over to snap Carmen’s neck and he only calmed down when he imagined Carmen chained to a coach seat, flying to New Zealand and back. Without drink service.
Holly’s eyes flew open as the door shut behind Flint and Carmen. She raced over to it and managed to overhear their conversation before they walked away. When Carmen had come into the room, it was only because of Flint’s reassuring presence that she hadn’t reached for the gun. She climbed back into her bed and flopped over on her belly, trying to get back to sleep, but hours later she was still awake and fuming. Where was Flint?
She turned to glare at the clock on the nightstand. Three in the fucking morning. She’d slept surprisingly well in Flint’s arms, but not enough, and she didn’t think she’d get back to sleep until he came back. She just had to trust that Flint knew what he was doing.
She pulled his pillow to her chest and inhaled the spicy scent of his aftershave. Of course he knew what he was doing. He’d been in Carmen’s back pocket for two years and hadn’t gotten caught yet. He would be fine, and with the name she’d given him, maybe they could put Carmen away and manage to save some lives in the bargain. She just wished she knew something about the human trafficking, but it might have started after she’d escaped.
Maybe it was better that she didn’t know anything about it. If she’d suspected Carmen had sunk so low, she doubted she could have kept silent this long. She shivered at the thought and prayed for the people caught up in Carmen’s machinations.
Remembering the look on Flint’s face when she’d told him Vasyli’s name made her grin. She prayed the information was still true. It had been so long. Still, it would give them a place to start. Carmen was unlikely to have changed his supplier even if the salesman was different. Vasyli might be dead, but someone else would have taken his place. Being able to give Flint that single name made her feel useful, like she was being proactive toward getting some very bad men off the streets.
The door handle rattled and she heard a soft curse outside the room. Holding in a whimper, she grabbed the Glock from the nightstand and pulled the covers up. Her thumb found the safety as the door opened.
“Sorry we didn’t come up with anything, boss. We can try it tomorrow if you want, but I’m tired.”
“Lazy bastard. You just want to bang your free piece of ass.”
“There’s a lot to be said for a girl who won’t say no.”
“Whatever. Just remember what I said about keeping your eye on the ball, Mario. I’m not averse to putting a bullet in your head if you fuck this up for me.”
“Yes, boss.”
Holly’s hand shook on the gun. God, she wanted to do exactly what Carmen said. The thought of putting a neat hole between his eyes was almost too much, and it was all she could do to stay still. Though she’d never thought of herself as a killer, the temptation to end Carmen right now was strong. The only thing stopping her was Flint’s job and the very real chance her information wasn’t correct.
The door slammed shut behind Carmen’s worthless ass and she breathed a sigh of relief as Flint’s weight settled on the bed next to her.
“Put the safety back on and stand down, Holly. He’s gone.”
Chapter 6
Flint heard the click of the Glock’s safety just before a slender hand returned it to the nightstand. Holly peered out from her nest under the covers, her eyes dark with fury and maybe a little fear.
“I almost shot him, Flint. I wanted to so bad, and I kind of hate myself for not doing it.”
He lay down next to her, surprised when she didn’t object. Gathering her in his arms, he pulled her against his chest. “I think you made a good choice, honey. You’re not meant for killing.”
“It would have solved all our problems. Grace would be safe, and you already have a name for the gun trafficking.”
He lowered his face into her hair and kissed her. “And you would have gone to jail for killing an unarmed man.”
She choked out a laugh. “Carmen is never unarmed. You should know that by now.” She was silent for several seconds. “Maybe it would have been worth it.”
“No, Holly. Killing a person, even someone as nasty as Carmen, is going to leave a scar on your soul. Leave it alone.”
“But—”
He rolled her to her stomach and swatted her a
ss, hard. She hissed out a breath and lifted her hips. He watched in fascination as a pink handprint bloomed on the lower curve of her backside. It was about the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.
“I said, leave it.”
Sighing, she lowered her head to her arms, hiding her beautiful face under her hair. “Yes, Master Flint.”
Oh, damn, that sounded good. He had to remind her of the alias he was using here, even though his name on her pretty lips sounded perfect. His real name, not any of the dozens he’d used while undercover. He could listen to it forever, but she had to remember and not call him that again.
His hand crashed down on her ass again. “What is my name, Holly?”
She yelped and her hand flew back to cover her backside. “What was that for?”
He gathered her wrists in one hand and peppered her backside with sharp spanks. “I asked you to tell me my name, kajira. What is my name?”
She relaxed for him, her body going soft and pliant as she lifted her hips and spread her knees, inviting his touch. “Master Miguel, sir.”
His cock twitched and sprang to life. His Holly had a submissive streak a mile wide and he wanted to explore it, even though he knew it would be the worst decision he could make. But he could smell her arousal. Fuck.
Unable to stop himself, he stroked her ass, feeling the warmth of her pink skin beneath his hand as he moved closer to her pussy. She whimpered and lifted her hips into his touch… and he was done.
Holly might hate him in the morning, but he couldn’t not taste what she so freely offered. He moved between her legs and lay on his back, gently spreading her thighs apart until her pussy was directly over his face.
Oh, hell, she smelled good. Like salted caramel. He wrapped his arms around her hips, pressing that decadent pussy into his face. So silky smooth and sweet as candy. He devoured her, relishing her cries of pleasure. He stabbed his tongue into her channel, licking up the dew of her arousal and swallowing as he turned his hand to thumb her pretty clit.
She choked out a cry and her thighs tightened around his head as she smothered him with her sweet flesh. He could eat her delicious pussy forever.
“Please, Master!”
Growling against her flesh, he pulled her clit into his mouth, sucking the turgid nub as he worked two thick fingers into her pussy and hunted for her G-spot. She stiffened and cried out; her body shuddering over him.
Holly’s rasping breaths were like music, especially when she cried out, “Master, please may I come?”
He increased his efforts, realizing she would have been taught to ask for pleasure. He loved the scent and heat of her surrounding him. “Come for me, Holly. Whenever you want.”
Her screams of delight echoed in the room, loud and shrill as her channel tightened around his fingers. Fuck, he wanted to feel that around his cock. Petting her gently, he eased her down. With one last swipe of his tongue, he slid out from under her and wiped his face with the back of one arm.
She collapsed to her stomach, breathing hard. Turning over on her side to face him, she said, “I’m not complaining, but what was that for?”
How could he tell her that all he’d wanted was to see her smile? “I just wanted to.” Reaching over, he turned off the bedside lamp and pulled her into his arms. “Go to sleep.”
“I have to teach you the Gorean commands. There’s nadu, Slaver’s Kiss, Hair, and—”
“It can wait until tomorrow.” He tightened his arms around her curvy body, relishing the scent of lavender and her arousal. “I just need a few to make my performance look realistic, so all you need to do is teach me words for positions that will hide your face.”
“Any of the three I mentioned will do that, but we should practice.”
“I said tomorrow, Holly.” He squeezed her hip in warning.
She let out an irritated puff of air and said, “Yes, Master Miguel.”
“That’s my good girl. Go to sleep.”
Instead of settling down, she wriggled free and slid down until her face was level with his groin. Her warm breath heated his cock through his sweatpants and he bit off a curse as her hands worked the fabric down over his hips. She hummed her approval as she stroked his thighs with small hands.
“Oh, my!” Her tongue touched the tip of his cock and she played with his Prince Albert, sliding her tongue through the ring to caress his glans as her hands stroked his shaft.
His hips bucked uncontrollably as she teased him, her agile tongue licking the piercing as she played with his balls, stroking and gently squeezing as her fingers tickled the sensitive skin of his perineum.
“Holly, you don’t have to do this.”
She lifted her head and stared at him, her eyes soft. “I know.” She busied herself with his cock once more, drawing a hiss of pleasure from him when she gently scraped her teeth against the vein on the underside of his cock.
He should stop her. It was one thing to give her pleasure. He was the Master here, wasn’t he? Flint tossed the sheets aside and turned the light on. He’d spent two years pretending every girl Carmen had foisted on him was the woman now sucking his dick, and he’d be goddamned if he missed a second of it. Groaning, he rolled to his back, giving her better access.
She growled and sucked him deeper into her mouth as she stroked him, her fingers moving in tandem with her mouth. Lord, she was going to suck him blind and he didn’t care. This was his most carefully guarded and cherished fantasy. She removed her hand from his dick and swallowed, sucking him down her throat. She coughed once, her throat muscles easing him past her gag reflex. She held him there as her little hands got busy with his balls, massaging the tender sac until he was panting.
One finger brushed against his asshole and he gritted his teeth to keep from spilling down her throat. He’d never been much for ass play, at least not when it was his own, but damned if he could stop her.
Some Master he was. One blow job and he was whimpering and needy as any submissive. But this wasn’t just any blow job. This was Holly going down on him. When she pressed against his asshole with one slippery finger and sucked hard on the head of his cock, he groaned and tried to push her away. She wasn’t having it and swirled her tongue around his piercing, making him cross eyed with need.
“Holly, I’m going to—”
Her finger slipped inside his ass and she massaged his prostate. His balls drew up against his body and, with a pained cry of agonized bliss, he emptied himself into her mouth. With gentle swipes of her tongue, she licked him clean, swallowing all evidence of his uncontrolled orgasm.
When he grew too sensitive to bear any more of her playful licks, he reached down and tugged her up his body, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m going to spank your ass for that.”
“Promises, promises.” She snuggled deeper into his arms, and within a few minutes, he heard the even sounds of her breathing as she drifted off to sleep. He spent the rest of the night wishing he could keep her forever but knowing it couldn’t happen. If he didn’t manage to protect Grace, Holly would hate him for letting another innocent woman die.
Just as much as he hated himself. He whispered into her hair, saying things he had no right to let her hear. Things he could only say when she was asleep.
Flint’s whispered words of love were only in her imagination. They had to have been. He was too involved with his job to bother with things like relationships, even if she wanted a future with him. Which she did not! Hadn’t he told her he was willing to let a woman die to bring Carmen down? No, she’d had her fill of dangerous men. Besides, what man didn’t fall in love with a woman who gave good head, at least for a little while? She knew better than to believe confessions of love that came right after sex.
Holly kept her breathing smooth and even, unwilling to let him know she was awake. She wanted time to think. Grace was well protected and guarded, though she knew Carmen would do his best to figure a way around Master Nelson.
Too many thoughts spun in her mind, making her head ache. S
he squeezed her eyes shut and tried to count sheep but it didn’t help. She didn’t know who had come up with the inane idea that watching sheep jump over a fence was a sleep aid but they had to have been off their rocker. She gave up on the meaningless exercise when Carmen started shooting them.
Stupid Carmen Massino. She should have shot him when she had the chance. Flint was right, though. She’d gone hunting with her father several times, but ending a human life wasn’t in her. Not even Carmen’s. Easing a sigh through pursed lips, she stared at the dark sky through the window and waited for dawn.
She must have fallen asleep at some point during the few hours she’d lain entwined in Flint’s arms. When she opened her bleary eyes, he was holding a cup of delicious, fragrant coffee in front of her nose.
Working one hand free of the sheets, she croaked, “Gimme.”
Already dressed in his costume and fresh as a damned daisy, he smirked and held the cup out of her reach. “Sit up, and you can have it.”
Stupid morning people. Boil them all in their own pudding, or something like that. Squinting, she glanced at the clock and blinked when she read the time.
“Oh, shit!” She scrambled out of bed and swiped the cup from him, burning her tongue as she swallowed the hot liquid. “I have to get dressed and down to breakfast!”
“What’s the rush?” He sat down on the edge of the bed and sipped from his own cup.
His kilt fell loosely over his crotch, making her remember that wicked Prince Albert piercing. What she wouldn’t give to play with it again. She pushed the thought away and said, “We have to be in the Rainbow Room by nine so I can work off my demerits.”
Scowling, he set his cup aside on the nightstand. “I already said no. I want you to stay in our room until Sunday. I’ll have someone deliver breakfast for us.”
“We can’t, Flint.” She shook her head then continued, “I mean, we can. Nobody will think anything of it if we spend most of the day in the room. But sooner or later, Carmen is going to come here, and I can’t pretend to be asleep all the time.”
