Re/Defined
Doms of the FBI #4
Michele Zurlo
www.lostgoddesspublishing.com
Doms of the FBI: Re/Defined
Copyright © January 2016 by Michele Zurlo
ISBN: 978-1-942414-16-2
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission from the copyright owner and Lost Goddess Publishing LLC. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Editor: Debora M. Ryan
Cover Artist: Anne Kay
Published by
Lost Goddess Publishing LLC
www.lostgoddesspublishing.com
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. It is not meant for underage readers.
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DISCLAIMER: Education and training are necessary in order to learn safe BDSM practices. Lost Goddess Publishing LLC is not responsible for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from use of the information contained in any of its titles. This is a work of fiction, and license has been taken with regard to BDSM practices.
A Note to Readers:
Misconceptions about Daddy Doms and littles (D/l or DD/l) are very common. Even in the BDSM community, they’re frequently a misunderstood subset. The relationship between a Daddy and a little is not the same as between a father and daughter, and there is no age play involved—that’s something else entirely. Many words have different meanings depending on the context, and that’s what is happening with the “Daddy” title. In Latino cultures, papi is slang for a hot guy, but it also means father. In this case, “Daddy” serves a similar function.
Like any worthwhile dominant, a Daddy Dom is a responsible alpha male who feels a driving need to take care of his submissive. He’s playful and indulgent, walking that fine line between spoiling and reining in his submissive. Daddies will typically give their littles chores or tasks to complete with the purpose of fulfilling his little’s goals and needs. For example, if she struggles with self-esteem, he might task her with writing a list of her positive attributes, and he might punish her (often a spanking or corner time) for putting herself down. He’s a protector, an emotional sanctuary, a mentor, and a teacher—and a boyfriend, husband, and lover.
Littles are women who sometimes feel like part of them is still a child. They may identify with a specific age or the age may be fluid. When stressed or if they need to decompress—or even for no reason—they can regress into “little headspace.” It’s a safe place where they can relax and have fun and forget about the real world. They might blow bubbles, color, or watch a child’s movie or TV show—whatever appeals to them. Littles tend to have a childlike spirit and an underlying innocence. They’re generally happy and upbeat, and very playful, even when they’re not in little headspace. It’s important to note that they’re grown women with all the wants, needs, and complications that come with adulthood.
The sex in a D/l relationship is no different from sex in a vanilla or BDSM relationship. The kinks are separate from the D/l dynamic and are specific to the people involved.
Littles are very complex, high-maintenance women, and Daddies are the Doms who love maintaining them.
Reading Order
Re/Bound
Re/Paired
Re/Claimed
Re/Defined
Acknowledgements:
This book would not have been possible without some key people who helped me with research and revision. I’d like to thank the members of The Speakeasy for their support and The Loving Dom for starting the group. Thanks to John K., Celeste King, and Ruadon King for allowing me to interview them, and thanks to Sherry Dove and Celeste for beta reading from a little’s perspective. Additional thanks to Karen and Michelle M. for their tireless reading of my rough drafts—all of my rough drafts. I couldn’t have done this without the light of your brilliance illuminating the errors and WTFs in my manuscript.
Sherry—the daisy is for you.
Chapter One
The flyer for the free seminar had simply read Life Keep Smacking You Down? Tired of Always Losing Out? Take Control of Your Destiny. Brian liked the message. Simple and direct, it didn’t use fancy language or promise the moon. He’d found it under his wiper blade as he left work for the last time. Halfway through his shift, the plant manager had called him upstairs.
Downsizing, he’d said. Government cutbacks and rising retiree healthcare costs.
“If the motherfuckers would just die, everything would cost less.” Brian hadn’t meant to say it out loud, and he’d scrambled to cover his mistake. He hadn’t spent four years in the military protecting his fellow citizens to disrespect them like that. The manager had merely nodded and reminded Brian to punch out or he wouldn’t be paid for the day.
Days like this, he should find an N.A. meeting, but Brian was too pissed for that crap. Balling the flyer in his fist, he spat in the direction of the glass fabrication plant, and then he threw the paper missile to the ground. He bypassed the meeting and went straight for his favorite dealer’s usual hangout. After the shit month he’d endured, he deserved an escape.
Miguel Lawrence watched the parking lot from the window of the plant manager’s office. This wasn’t his castle, but there was no doubt he was the king. He sniffed the cigar he’d light up as soon as he got to his car, and he reveled in his power. “That wasn’t so bad.”
Jeff, the manager of the fabrication plant, snorted, but he didn’t try to plead for leniency again. “Good employees are hard to find.”
“That’s true.” It was even more difficult to find someone with the correct profile. Miguel needed capable, skilled men who possessed key weaknesses. Brian Gartrell had worked hard to get his life back together, but he was too volatile to keep it that way. It was just a matter of time before he blew it, which needed to happen before he’d be desperate enough to fall into Miguel’s trap. Yes, his organization needed men like Brian, and men like Jeff made it happen. Jeff hated doing this, but he had no choice because Miguel only had to make a phone call to destroy the man’s life. And after the unexpected competence of the FBI over the past several years, he was down several key players.
“You’re going to ruin his life, his wife’s life, and his kid’s life.” A whiny edge crept into Jeff’s indirect protest.
Miguel shrugged. “Minor inconveniences. You did well today. You’ll be rewarded.”
“Just stay away from me,” Jeff said quietly. “I want nothing more to do with you. We’re done. This never happened. I don’t know you, and you don’t know me.”
Miguel watched Brian crumple the flyer and toss it to the ground. He smiled widely because the man had read it first. The seed was planted. “I’ll need one more. You know what to look for. Call me within a week with a viable candidate.”
“You’re a fucking prick, you know that?”
Finally, Miguel turned away from the window. Brian had driven off, and one of Miguel’s lackeys followed. He regarded Jeff with the full force of his stoic glare. “We all make mistakes. You’re just upset because I know how to profit from them.
Give up seeking redemption, Jeffy. Join my organization full time. I’m always looking for good men, and you’re one of the best talent recruitment specialists I’ve come across. It’s a gift you’re wasting in this hole.”
With that Jeff looked away, unsuccessfully hiding his guilt and disgust. Miguel laughed. He’d always been great at pushing his little brother’s buttons.
Chapter Two
“You haven’t known him long enough to move in together.” Jordan Monaghan barely refrained from grinding his teeth and growling. His youngest sister had graduated from high school two weeks prior, and she was spending a week with him in Michigan before heading back to Wisconsin. This afternoon, he’d taken her to an engagement party. His friend Malcolm was finally tying the knot with his submissive fiancée. The pair had a five-month-old baby, and Darcy had wanted to wait until she lost the baby weight before scheduling the wedding. Malcolm had humored her to a point, and then he’d set the date, saying she looked fantastic and didn’t need to shed another pound.
Jamie flipped her long dark hair over her shoulder. “We’ve been going out for over a year, and if Mom and Dad don’t have a problem with it, I don’t see why you do.”
Their parents did have a problem with it, and they hadn’t known how to handle it. As the youngest of five kids, Jamie was also the most headstrong and the least reasonable. Flabbergasted when their daughter had announced her plans, his parents had offered to pay for her trip to come see Jordan. As the oldest, he had been blessed/cursed with the responsibility gene. It helped that he had a dominant personality with a penchant for taking care of people.
“Jamie, so much changes in your first year of college.” That was the year he’d discovered BDSM, and he’d met his first mentor, a Domina named Rachel. His high school girlfriend had not embraced the lifestyle, and they’d eventually parted ways. “Give it a year. Don’t be in a rush to move in with somebody. That’s a huge decision, one that shouldn’t be made hastily.”
This time Jamie rolled her eyes. “A year, Jordan. We’ve been together for thirteen months. That’s longer than you’ve ever had a girlfriend.”
While that was true, it wasn’t a fear of commitment that kept his relationships short. It didn’t take long to determine a woman wasn’t your soul mate. He had a strict rule about not having sex in the first three months, and he was big on communication, which meant he got to know his girlfriends thoroughly. It infuriated him that he wasn’t able to get through to his sister.
As he watched her lick barbeque sauce from her fingers and ignore his concerns, he tried to reformulate his strategy. Of course his brain short-circuited as soon as Amy Markevich, sister of the bride-to-be, showed up with that cute smile and a stack of pink boxes. She stopped at the buffet table and set up a three-tiered stand. Darcy went right over and hugged her sister. Jordan watched, delighting in the way Amy’s face lit up when she was happy. Today she wore one of those dresses that wrapped around her body, the lemon yellow fabric hugging her dangerous curves and highlighting her breasts. They were more than a handful, not that he’d had the pleasure of measuring exactly how much more. The neckline plunged down to show cleavage, and Jordan shifted to give his boys breathing room. Those delectable curves continued, drawing his eyes over her hips and down her legs to the matching yellow Mary Jane’s on her feet. Each shoe sported a white daisy on the buckle.
He’d looked for Amy when he’d first arrived, but he hadn’t found her. Amy was an event planner, and part of her wedding gift was to plan the engagement party and the wedding. Malcolm had told him that Amy had gone to pick up the desserts. Most of his friends were under the impression that he liked Amy for her taste in pastries. Don’t get him wrong—while he had a distinct weakness for her cupcakes, it was nothing compared to what he felt for Amy.
Six years separated them. He’d never dated an older woman, but Amy didn’t seem like she was thirty-two. She had an air of innocence and naiveté that drew him, a moth to her flame. Punctuated by moments of insight, her sometimes flighty demeanor left most people scratching their heads when they tried to understand her. Jordan had no problem recognizing and appreciating the multiple sides of her nature. She had a gorgeous face, with blue eyes that were perpetually happy, and straight brown hair that fell past her shoulders. It was silky and soft, and he had yet to find a good excuse to touch it. His reasons thus far had been mostly lame—engineered accidents that made him look a little klutzy. And that body—holy shit, it just didn’t quit.
“Earth to Jordan.”
He forced himself to look away from Amy’s delicious figure and focus his attention on his sister. “You were saying?”
She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. “Your buddy moved in with his girlfriend a couple months after meeting her. Now they have a kid, and they’re getting married.”
“They both finished college and have successful careers. There’s no comparison.” Before she could argue, he stood and held out his hand. “Amy’s putting out cupcakes. We’d better get some before they’re all gone.”
Jamie let him pull her up. She regarded him with an amused grin. “You weren’t drooling like that over cupcakes.”
“Shut up, Jamie.”
The cupcakes hadn’t been finished on time, meaning Amy had to leave the party to pick them up. She didn’t mind. Not only had a vendor donated them—they were hoping she’d use them at her other events—but her parents were in town for a couple of months. They planned to stay until after Darcy’s wedding, and then they were off to explore the northern states in their new RV. Amy could only spend so much time with her parents before they annoyed her. Luckily they had Darcy’s adorable baby to distract them. They spent most of their time oohing and ahhing over Colin. When they weren’t with the little one, they were hounding her to find someone and settle down like Darcy had. If they only knew that Malcolm was a Dom, they’d stop urging her to find a nice man like Malcolm to marry. They hadn’t exactly been understanding with Darcy’s last fiancé, also a Dom. Neither had Amy, and she regretted letting her ignorance drive a wedge between her and her sister. At least now they were back to being best friends. Darcy was one of the only people who accepted her—quirks and all—and Malcolm did as well.
Setting up the cupcakes didn’t take long. A crowd gathered before she finished, each person hungrily eyeballing the goodies on the three-tiered stand. She giggled at their undisguised interest. “You don’t have to wait for me to finish. If you see one you want, go for it.”
Many people flashed a grin in greeting as they took what they wanted and skedaddled. Malcolm, her brother-in-law-to-be, took a bite and closed his eyes as he savored the taste. He was tall, dark, and handsome, and they’d become good friends over the past year. “Damn, Amy. I don’t know how you do it, but you always manage to find the best sweets.” He finished his cupcake and took another one. Amy wasn’t going to comment when he started in on that one. Malcolm grinned and swallowed. “I’m eating it for Darcy. She said I had to get her one, and then she said I couldn’t let her have one because she’s trying to lose weight. This is how I compromised.”
Darcy had been the first one to greet her, and she’d already taken off with a cupcake. Amy merely nodded. “There’s plenty for everybody.”
“Great to know.” Dustin Brandt, Malcolm’s friend, leaned in to look over the selection.
Amy pointed to one. She knew Dustin’s weakness. “Double chocolate with a mocha crème filling.”
He flashed a dimpled smile as he grabbed it. “Thanks.”
“Where’s mine?” Layla Hudson, a tiny, petite blonde clutched Amy’s arm and jumped up and down. The woman was close with Darcy, but over the past year, she’d become one of Amy’s friends as well. She and Dustin had recently moved in together.
Along with Keith and Trina, that made three couples Amy knew who were in D/s relationships. The more she saw and read, the more she understood that she was thoroughly a submissive. She might run her own company, and life had thrust her into the role of
big sister, but at heart, she wanted to submit to somebody. But not anybody. She wanted to find the right man first. Malcolm had been helping, introducing her to friends or vetting potential dates she met through a kinky dating service, but she had yet to meet anyone with whom she felt a connection.
Turning, she spotted Jordan Monaghan coming her way. At 6’5, he towered over everybody there. His long, shaggy black hair emphasized his sharp features. Jordan had an air of danger and authority that only enhanced his handsomeness, but it also made people take a step back and move out of his way. Amy had initially found him intimidating, but his warm and welcoming demeanor had barreled through her defenses, albeit a little too well.
This was the kind of guy who made her nipples pebble just by being nearby. Amy fantasized about Jordan and nameless men who looked like him, but who wanted her. As if the age difference wasn’t enough, Jordan Monaghan was totally out of her league. To prove her point, he towed a tall, thin brunette with him. She was pretty enough to be a model, the exact type of woman who was perfect for him.
“Hey, Amy.” He released the model to greet Amy with a heartfelt hug. His arms felt so good around her, and she let herself enjoy the brief press of his hard body against her softer one. “I see you brought the good stuff.”
She handed him the box. “Since you weren’t in the initial swarm, I left a banana cream in there for you.”
He accepted her offering with a pleased smile that made her heart beat faster. “Amy, I want to introduce you to my little sister, Jamie. She’s visiting this week from Wisconsin.”
Her relief was momentary as she reminded herself that she wasn’t Jordan’s type. Too old and too plump, she’d be lucky if she landed a middle-aged business man who had a soft heart and a firm hand. Still she could close her eyes and pretend, couldn’t she? Wasn’t that what married people did—closed their eyes and pictured their partner as someone younger and more attractive? As long as she didn’t accidentally yell out the wrong name, she’d be golden.
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