Tim chuckled. “You wouldn't think so, would you? However, you have to bear in mind, this is not bullying or abuse. Rather, it is intimate, sexual behavior, which is bound up with fantasy. Sexual fantasy has vastly different rules than reality, ones that are often far from politically correct. This is certainly not behavior these women would have tolerated from anyone other than a trusted sexual partner.”
“I still don't get it. Why would she take it from him? What's the attraction?”
Tim considered. “Lots of things. The more a person must be strong and in-control in the real world, the more seductive the fantasy is just to kick back, so to speak, and let someone else make all the decisions in one's private life. Provided it is a loving, trusted partner, on whom the person can rely to make good decisions for them both.”
Caro thought about that. Reluctantly she admitted it made a certain amount of sense. It had been so easy last night, once she had made the decision to sleep with Mick, to let him take over and direct things how he wanted them. She'd been so caught up in what he was doing to her she'd never even noticed her own acquiescence.
Uncomfortable with that bit of inner revelation, she couldn’t help thinking about her own background.
Was that how her mother had been roped into her passive, subservient role with her father? Had it started in bed and simply mushroomed from there? Lord, she definitely didn’t want to think about that visual.
“But still, we're not talking about deciding which restaurant to go to,” she said. “We're talking about being tied up and having sex in front of a stranger! There is a huge difference.”
Tim smiled. “Not really. These women were living out their deepest, darkest sexual fantasies. It's all about letting go, relinquishing control and giving power to your partner. Bondage is the ultimate act of trust—trusting your partner to know you well enough to fulfill your fantasy, but not to hurt you.” He leaned forward earnestly. “Surely, you've fantasized about being tied up by a favorite lover, Caroline?”
She blanched. Mick's posture was casual, but she felt his eyes laser in on her. Okay, so maybe she had fantasized about being tied up and helpless with a man. Once or twice. So what?
She crossed her legs. “Lots of women fantasize about that. It doesn't mean they'd actually do it in real life.”
“And why not, do you think?”
She shifted under the profiler's serious gaze and Mick's calculating one. “Well, because...because being tied up and taken against your will is rape.”
“That’s a strong word, Caroline. Is it rape even if it’s a willing, consensual act with someone you love and trust?”
She swallowed. Jeez, how had they gotten into this discussion? “Well, no, I guess not,” she conceded.
“Exactly. The difference is the love and the trust. In a Master/slave relationship, the slave loves the Master and trusts his decisions in all things. She willingly relinquishes her will and her control. Sometimes just over her body, sometimes more—over her emotions, her intellect, even over her very life. Those are the choices she makes when she becomes his slave. Our victims had obviously not gone that far in their Dominant/submissive relationships as to become a total lifestyle. And they undoubtedly never would have. Theirs was more of a pleasure slave role, which is far more common. Submission in the sexual realm only. She enjoyed the fantasy of being helpless and he enjoyed his power over her. Both based on trust. And that’s what you need to convey to the killer with your behavior at Brimstone, Caroline. That you trust Mick's decisions concerning your sexual pleasure and will go along with whatever sexual demands he makes of you. Including being tied up and having sex in front of a stranger, if he asks it. That is the key to luring this guy into your trap.”
Tim regarded her closely. “Do you trust Mick, Caroline?”
“About as far as I can spit,” she muttered.
Mick rose from his chair and came up behind her, sliding his fingers around the back of her neck. “We're partners for this operation. Cops know they can trust their partners. She'll do fine.”
“I hope so,” Tim remarked, glancing between the two of them. “Because both your lives depend on it.”
***
After the meeting broke up, Mick laid into her on the walk back to the task force. “What the hell was that about?” he demanded. “You don’t trust me?”
“It’s not like you’ve given me a whole lot of reason to,” she said, looking him straight in the eye.
Halting, he grabbed her arm and stood toe to toe with her. “You’re joking, right? You can say that after last night?”
“It’s because of last night I don’t trust you.”
“Bullshit,” he said, glanced around and lowered his voice. “You would have done anything I asked last night, including letting me tie you up if I’d wanted to.”
She shifted in his grip, averting her eyes when two patrol cops walked past giving them curious looks. “Last night was a mistake, Mick. One that won’t be repeated.”
“We’ll see about that,” he said, making her stomach zing at the same time as her mouth dropped open.
“Are you threatening me?”
“No threats necessary. Just stating facts.” Suddenly, a scowl creased his brow. “You’re not trying to get out of this assignment, are you?”
She scowled right back up at him, her insides warring between her need to escape the chaotic sexual feelings this man brought out in her every time they were in the same room together, and her ambition to work in Homicide.
“Because if you are, it’s not going to happen,” he said. “The operation’s been approved and there's no time to find anyone else. Besides, you've been officially reassigned, and the lieutenant will want to know the real reason you've changed your mind. What are you going to tell him?”
“Mick, I haven’t changed my mind about the operation,” she said, fighting the awareness.
“Good thing.” His merciless gaze drilled into her. “Because there's a little matter of that security tape from the elevator...”
She gasped. “That's blackmail!”
A negligent shoulder lifted as he resumed walking. “Whatever it takes.” At the task force door he turned to her. “Shift's changing now. Go home and start getting ready. I'll pick you up at nine.”
With that, he disappeared through the door and closed it in her face.
She took a deep breath to stop her outraged sputtering. Of all the unmitigated nerve! Lord, he was insufferable!
So insufferable, he probably had no clue why she didn’t trust him, or why she was so angry. Hell, judging from his remarks he probably even thought he'd be welcome into her bed again tonight. Yeah, when hell froze over.
The selfish, arrogant bastard had sealed his own fate by walking out on her this morning and ignoring her all day. Besides, she wasn't about to get involved with a man who tried to control her through blackmail—emotional or literal. No matter how great a lover he was.
Not a chance. He'd never touch her again. If she was going to get through this with her career and her sanity intact, she'd have to establish some strict rules. She'd do her job, then go home and purge her obnoxious boss from her thoughts.
That's how it had to be. And that's how it would be, whether he liked it or not.
***
Mick strode into his office and slammed the folders in his hand onto the desk. Over his dead body.
No way in hell was Caro shutting him out. Unless she wanted to create a messy scene in front of God, Chief Trujillo and everyone else at the PPD, things were going to stay exactly as they were.
She was a vital part of his carefully implemented plan. He was in way too deep to stop things now, even if he could. Or wanted to. Which he didn’t. He’d risked everything on this. Up to and including his own life. And he knew damned well he'd never be able to pull it off with anyone but Caroline Palmer. He needed her.
However that had happened.
Damn, the woman had a stubborn streak wide as Kansas. All day today, f
rom being late, to the incident in the elevator, to just now pretending she didn’t trust him, she'd provoked him over and over, until it was all he could do not to slam her against the wall and teach her a thing or two about what happened to women who sassed. Or disobeyed.
But that would never do. It would definitely blow his Iceman image all to hell. And now was not the time to redefine Detective Mick McGraw. The big chill suited him just fine. Kept things at the department nice and businesslike, which was just how he wanted them. How he needed them for his plan to work.
Annoying woman.
For the life of him he couldn't figure out why Caro was so pissed at him. They'd made an agreement last night. Now she seemed to think he'd somehow broken it. Or maybe that he should break it. Who the hell knew.
He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension clawing at him. Damn. He should have fired her yesterday while he still had the willpower. Before he'd gotten a taste of her. For her. Because now that he had, regardless of how much he knew he should just walk away, there was no way he would. Not yet. Not until he had to.
He jetted out a breath. She wasn't going to like his decision to move in with her, either.
Tim had brought it up again when they'd talked this afternoon, and Mick couldn't argue with his reasoning. A killer as clever and organized as the one they were dealing with would never miss something as obvious as them not living together. It was too big a risk not to. No, Mick would just have to change her mind with a little friendly persuasion.
His body tightened at the thought. He might have grave reservations about developing an emotional interest in Caro, but physically, he was already craving her like a drug.
Last night had been nothing short of mind-blowing. The eager innocence and excitement of her response had turned him on like no one had ever done before. She had given over her body to him without reservation, following his lead, letting him do as he wished with her. Though he deliberately hadn't taken her beyond the normal excesses of an—albeit unusually tumultuous—first-time fuck, he'd instinctively felt she was open to anything with him. He’d known she was.
It was an incendiary situation, and their potent chemistry would make them a convincing couple at Brimstone, more than likely to attract attention. And hopefully the notice of the man he was trying to lure into his trap. So here at the station she could be just as stubborn and annoying as ever, and he'd just keep playing it cool, biding his time until they went home.
But at night, he planned to take advantage of their chemistry. Full advantage. He and Caro fit together like a gun and holster, and he wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to do a little more quick draw practice.
Tonight at Brimstone...tonight it was going to be a pure damned pleasure to bring her over to his way of thinking.
He glanced at his watch. He was due to pick her up in just over an hour, and there were a few things he had to do first.
Grabbing the phone, he dialed the number for his friend Jeff Cody at LAPD. They had been on patrol together back in the old days. Jeff was the only one at LAPD he had even considered asking to work surveillance for this undercover thing.
“Hey, buddy. Is everything all set for tonight?”
“Sure thing, Mick. We'll have a couple of people inside, and three teams parked outside the club—one in the lot next door and two on the street out front. They'll be taking down license plates to compare with your crime scene lists.”
“Sounds good. And they'll be following us home when we leave?”
“Two of the cars will take turns tailing you back to Pasadena, looking for anyone from the club or who even just looks suspicious. You have coverage once you get home, right?”
“There's a team staking out Caro's place until the case is solved.”
“Ouch. Your guys are putting in a lot of overtime, eh?”
“The mayor's getting antsy.”
Cody laughed. “Don't they always. Got your cell phone?”
“Right in my back pocket. The men have the number?”
“Yep, and the dispatcher, too. Sure you don’t want to wear a wire?”
“Not necessary. I doubt you could hear anything in the club anyway. See you tonight.”
Before Mick left the station for his apartment, he checked in with Denny and Brady, whom he'd pulled from duty at the last scene to do the stakeout in front of Caro's. He’d wanted someone dependable, who knew him by sight.
“You'll be there at one a.m.?”
“We'll be in a white Ford, parked a couple of houses down,” Denny confirmed.
“Good.” Mick didn't expect trouble, not tonight, but it was better to be safe than have things blow up and not be prepared.
He glanced at his watch again and realized he'd have to hustle to make it to Caro's on time. He hated being late.
Once home, he packed a gym bag with a few toiletries, several running outfits and a couple pairs of sneakers. That should hold him for a while sleeping over at her place. After a quick shower, he went to the closet and donned his new leather gear. Black pants, harness and boots.
Mick definitely liked power sex, along with acting out his and his partner’s fantasies. But to this day he'd never allowed himself to indulge in actual props. Far too dangerous. But tonight he had no choice. This was the only way to trap the murderer who belonged in the deepest level of hell.
He stared at himself in the mirror, torn between excitement and horror. Just as everything else about this case, the image reflected back in the mirror hit way too close to home.
For a lifetime he'd been running from a man who looked just like this. His father had liked black leather a whole lot. He had lived his own sick domination fantasies—but he hadn't been acting. Fantasies that played more like nightmares to a young wife and child growing up under the constant threat of their violence—until a ten-year-old boy had turned it right back against him. Little had that boy known the real nightmares were just beginning.
But now it was time for Mick to put an end to them once and for all. This would be his last, best chance.
He added a few finishing touches to his look and went to get his keys along with a jewelry box from his dresser. As he reached for them he paused to dig an old framed picture from deep in one of the drawers. The face of his mother beamed back at him. Her eyes were closed as she lay back on a giant white beach towel. She looked so happy in that picture. It was an outing to the ocean he vividly recalled—one of the few good memories he had from childhood, just days before she’d been taken from him.
As always, an overwhelming sense of guilt flooded through him. He should have been able to help her that day. He should have saved her.
“I’m sorry, Mama,” he whispered. “I swear I’ll do it right this time.”
With that he hid the photo back in the drawer, far from the sight of prying eyes.
Returning his gaze to his mirrored reflection one last time, a chill rolled slowly down his spine and back up again. He took a deep calming breath and turned away.
He was not his father.
He'd spent the last thirty-six years making damn sure he wasn't. But things had come full circle; the sins of the father had come back to possess the son. And here he was, all dressed up in black leather, inviting his own personal demons in with open arms.
Now he must be extra strong, extra vigilant. Always stay in absolute, complete control. For his mother. And for Caro.
For nothing frightened him more than the fact that he actually was the man in the mirror.
Chapter 7
Naturally, Mick was early.
When the doorbell rang, Caro had just finished putting on the black leather miniskirt and demi-bra they'd bought for her at the bondage gear shop. Quickly, she slipped into her spike-heeled shoes.
Here goes nothing.
She opened the door and Mick walked into the living room carrying a gym bag. He took one look at her and said, “Baby, you look good enough to eat.”
He swept her into his arms, his lips cru
shing down on hers. She gave a gasp of surprise, unintentionally opening herself to his deep, thorough kiss. Her body reacted instantly, melting at his touch. She was so stunned, for a minute she just let him kiss her—okay, so maybe a little more than a minute—completely ruining her plans to keep at least four feet between herself and the man at all times.
Then she came to her senses and tried to pull away.
He held her tight. “God, I've been wanting to do this all day.” He lowered his lips to hers again. “You were driving me out of my mind.”
She turned her head, avoiding his assault. “You have got to be kidding.”
“I never kid.” He grasped her chin and turned her back, seeking her mouth. “Ever.”
“Wait.” She struggled, knowing if his lips succeeded in meeting hers again she'd be a goner. “Stop! Detective!”
At the safe word, he halted in mid-kiss and straightened, marginally loosening his grip on her. “What's wrong?”
“What's wrong?” She pushed away and glared at him incredulously. “What's wrong? You treat me like pond scum all day and then have the fucking nerve to come here and ask what's wrong?”
His brows furrowed. “I didn't treat you any differently than I always do. Or than I treat anyone else. I was only honoring our deal. Caroline, is this about that trust thing? Because—”
“What the hell do you think?” She planted her fists on her hips. “By agreeing to leave our badges at the door, do you honestly think I meant you should disappear before I wake up, ignore me on the job and act like nothing has changed between us? Last night you pretended to be contemptuous of men who gave me that old line! But you’re exactly like them.”
“I’m not the least bit like them. Not remotely.”
“Oh? And how’s that?” she spat out.
He stepped closer. “Because I'm not married, that's how. And because regardless of how we interact at the station, I promise that for as long as you and I are together, I won't so much as look at another woman.”
Slave To Love (sizzling erotic thriller noir - full length) Page 9
