by Davis, Jo
She was terrified.
Something was wrong with Alex attending this party, and he knew it, too. He’d held her so tight, then made love to her so tenderly, each caress had felt like . . .
Good-bye.
No. She was being emotional, that’s all. This whole ordeal was taking its toll on both of them.
“Hey, babe? I have to go.”
She turned in her lounger and had to suppress the urge to seduce her own husband into staying. Lord, he looked fine in a pair of dark, pressed jeans and a tight green T-shirt that made his eyes pop and blew the flabby lawyer-type cliché all to hell and back. The ribbed material defined his pecs and abs to mouthwatering perfection. He needed a haircut, the blond strands falling over his eyes and curling at his nape, but she wasn’t about to remind him when she loved running her hands through it every time they made love.
He appeared every inch the bad boy, off to a wicked party where anything might happen. And she wasn’t invited.
He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss. “Miss me.”
“You know it. Hurry home?”
“Always.”
But she knew it was likely to be dawn before that sort of thing ended. Then again, maybe it would die down early and he’d head home, satisfied nothing would be gleaned by staying.
Right.
She sat brooding after he left, how long she didn’t know. An hour? Two? It wasn’t until a shadow fell over her spot on the patio that she acknowledged she’d been waiting for Jason.
“I want to explain, but I can’t. Not yet.”
She digested this. Okay, so he wasn’t going to deny what she found. “I’d suck as a spy.”
“Like a Hoover. The dessert was great, though.”
That’s when she knew. If he could stand here and joke about her invading the sanctity of his home, his privacy, then he was no more guilty of subterfuge than Alex.
“I’m sorry,” she said, looking up at him. Ashamed.
Lowering himself into the other lounger, he met her gaze. “Don’t be. I’m the one who’s sorry.” He laughed, the sound hollow. “I thought I could come here and hide from my mistakes, just for a little while, before I had to make good. I didn’t count on you and Alex. I didn’t mean to lose my heart.”
“Who are you? Tell me.”
His throat worked, expression tormented. “Trust me for a bit longer. I know you don’t have any reason to, but I’m begging you. Please give me more time.”
“And then?”
“I have some issues to work out, and then maybe, if you two want . . . I’ll put down roots.”
A promise. She heard the truth in his voice, whispering what she wanted to hear. If only she could believe.
“You’re not making this easy to understand.”
“It will all make sense very soon. I’m not perfect, but I’m not the bad guy, Olivia.” He sighed. “I’ll talk to Alex, too. Is he home yet?”
Her laugh emerged as a sob. “Not until he’s done playing Dick Tracy for the evening.”
Jason’s gaze sharpened. “What do you mean?”
“Henry Boardman’s throwing some sort of kinky party at his place, and Alex has gone to make sure the dirty bastard stays out of trouble.”
“Shit!” He bolted from his chair, fists clenched. “That idiot!”
Alarmed, she rose. “What?”
“He’s walking into a trap, that’s what. I’d heard about the party through a contact, but . . . goddamn, I have to get over there.”
“I’m going with you!”
“Absolutely not. You don’t know—”
“I understand that Alex is in trouble, and I’ll get there whether I have to go alone or not. I’d feel safer with you, so it’s your call.”
He swore a blue streak, but she fisted her hands on her hips, completely unfazed. When he ran out of steam, he blew out an irritated breath and glared at her, 110 percent a man who meant business. She’d never seen this side of him before, and if the situation wasn’t so dire, she’d take more time to appreciate the metamorphosis.
“You’ll do exactly as I tell you,” he said firmly, straightening to his full height. A man who’d tolerate no bullshit.
“And here I thought you loved following orders.”
“Only in the bedroom, sweet thing. Now go put on something slinky so we can haul your stubborn shithead of a husband out of the fire.”
Alex wandered through the latex-and-leather crowd, sipping his Jack and cola, scanning the faces for someone familiar. Observing scenes of excess that far surpassed any of the sophomoric offerings at the Paddle and Whip and dodging invites to partake in each one.
Mountains of white powder. Pills of every color of the rainbow. Hard-driving rock music and a packed dance floor. Toned, gorgeous bodies writhing in every room, in pairs or more. Some were tied, being dominated by various methods. Whipping, spanking, public humiliation. And nobody objected, least of all the sub-missives. Boardman’s mansion was the devil’s playground, filled with every forbidden pleasure known to man.
Drugs frightened him. He had no trouble staying far from those, but the sex?
A dull throb, a slow burn, settled in his groin. So easy to forget why he was here, especially with Jenna and Boardman lost in the crowd somewhere, undoubtedly enjoying themselves.
Damn, what was he doing here? The cops and the Feds were watching Boardman and his cronies, and Alex was out of his element. Liv and Jason were at home, and that’s where he belonged. He turned, looking for somewhere to abandon his drink, just as a hand lit on his arm.
“Why, Alex!” Danielle stood in front of him, smiling. Wearing a sleeveless gold see-through tank top thing. “I’d hoped you would be here. Are you having fun?”
He blinked, trying like hell to keep his gaze on her face. Jesus Christ, she was . . . full. Pretty, rosy nipples gracing round, high breasts and a flat tummy. And the gauzy skirt? Answered the question of whether the lovely Danielle was a natural blond.
“I’m sorry, wh-what did you ask?”
“Are you having a good time?” She waved a hand at the room in general.
“Not yet.” God. “I mean, it’s fine, just not really my scene. I was thinking of heading out.”
“Oh, but you can’t! Things are finally starting to get interesting.” Taking his hand, she tugged. “Come with me.”
“I don’t know—”
“Oh, come on, don’t be such a party pooper. Is it always such a chore getting you to lighten up?”
Before he could chew on that, she took off, leading him across the room and into another one. A library, dark and quiet except for several couples and the unmistakable noises of people already having a fabulous time. He glimpsed naked backsides, spread legs, and tangled limbs—damn, it wasn’t that dark—and he struggled to keep his eyes averted.
Wasn’t easy. Didn’t matter, anyway, because the effect was the same. He’d have to be a eunuch not to be hard and aching, his body coming alive, shushing the protests of the guardian angel on his shoulder.
She led him to a settee against one wall next to a tall bookcase and patted the spot beside her. The second he sat down, one slender hand slid up the inside of his thigh. Brushed the bulge in his jeans. “You sure look yummy in street clothes, Alex,” she praised, tracing the ridge of his erection. “So sexy.”
He covered her hand with his free one, inching it away from the danger zone. “I don’t think you’ve ever called me ‘Alex’ before, even when I insisted.”
“One, we’re usually at work. Two, yes, I have.” Undeterred, she cupped his sex, rubbed.
“When?” The question emerged as a croak. He cast about for a graceful way to extricate himself without embarrassing them both.
Leaning over, she whispered into his ear, “You look hot in a blindfold, boss.”
The sensual information overload blew his mind. And his plans for escape. “Holy God. It was you.”
“In the flesh.”
He stared at her pleased expressio
n, the kitten ready to lick the cream. Literally. She pressed into him, nipples grazing his chest through the nonexistent barrier, and nibbled his lips. Swept her tongue into his mouth, probing. Exploring. He let her, allowing himself this bit of pleasure. Telling himself he’d go no further.
Until she slid to the floor and pushed apart his knees, fingers digging into his thighs, thumbs brushing his crotch. “I could hardly believe my luck when Jenna told me about your open-marriage arrangement. The man I’d lusted after for weeks, available to play and possessing a wicked streak a mile wide. Imagine that.”
Where Jenna was concerned, he knew luck had nothing to do with Danielle’s fortune. “Danielle—”
“It is true, right? You have permission to play?” She cocked her head, narrowing her eyes. “I didn’t think until later that one of you might have lied—not that I thought it was you.”
“Yes,” he said, glad this was an issue for her. Unlike Jenna, Danielle was someone he really liked as a person. “I don’t keep secrets from my wife.”
“Good.” Clever fingers continued their mission, working on the fly of his jeans.
“We shouldn’t.”
She shrugged. “We already have. We enjoyed each other, and we can again, so why not?”
His silence, the heat of desire radiating from him, was his answer. Taking his drink, she placed it on a nearby table. He pulled off his shirt and bent, removed his socks and shoes, then pushed down his jeans and briefs. She tugged them the rest of the way off and shoved them aside, then knelt between his spread legs again.
He scooted to the edge of the settee, granting her easier access. She manipulated his testicles, squeezing and rolling them, creating a delicious pressure. A tingling that spiraled from his balls slowly up his cock to the tip.
Moist heat surrounded him. She took him in her mouth, sucked him deep, blond hair spilling over his lap. Head bobbing, little tongue working his shaft.
“Feels so good,” he gasped. “Don’t want to come yet.”
She pulled off with a long, slow suck. “Fuck me.”
Alex fished on the floor, found his jeans and the condom in the back pocket. Handing the packet to her, he stood with his erection straining toward her luscious mouth as though eager to burrow inside again. “Do the honors?”
She sheathed him quickly and spread her thighs, touching herself. “How do you want me?”
“Bend over the bench and spread your legs.” She did, and he flipped up the material posing as a skirt, baring her to him. He smoothed his hands over her naked bottom. Lifted and offered up to him like a gift. His with which to do whatever he desired.
“Alex, please.”
“Patience, beautiful.” Wetting one finger, he parted her cheeks and teased her rosette. Pushed inside, nice and easy. “Good girl. What a pretty little ass, pink and spread for me. I’m going to finger fuck your hole while I slide my cock in and out of your pussy.”
“Oh yes! More.”
She shivered under him and his cock burned, desperate to find sanctuary inside her. First, he wanted her dripping, begging for it. Still working her ass, massaging gently, he slipped two fingers of his other hand between the folds. Probed into her slick channel, loving the scent of her arousal.
“Already so wet. Tell me what you want, baby.”
“Please, Alex, fuck me!”
Replacing his fingers with the head of his cock, he pushed into her tight passage with a groan of pure ecstasy. Gripping one hip, he began to thrust, filling both entrances again and again.
In front of whoever cared to watch.
“God, yes,” he growled, turned on beyond belief. “Anyone can see us. Does that make you hot, sweet Dani?”
“Oh! Oh yes! Harder . . . ”
He fucked her hard and deep, balls slapping her pussy, his entire universe nothing but the wildfire between his legs. Sweeping out of control as he drove into her, sac drawing up. So close—
She arched her back, screaming her release, pussy rippling around his cock. That sent him over and he shot, thrusting once. Twice. Shuddering as he came so forcefully, he thought he might turn inside out.
Heaving, he kissed her spine, withdrew only his finger. “That was unbelievable. You were good, Danielle. Thank you.”
“So were you, and the pleasure was mine.”
He heard the smile in her voice, and chuckled. “I could tell.”
She laughed as he withdrew, and he felt a pang of guilt. He liked Danielle and didn’t want to hurt her. Or cause a strain between them at work. He discarded the condom in a nearby waste-basket and sat beside her, leaning his back against the bench.
“I liked when you called me Dani,” she said, peering at him as though to gauge his reaction to their tryst.
“Really? It suits you. I’ll call you that if you want.”
“I do.”
“Then it’s settled.” He studied her earnest face and found no trace of guile there. Simply a sensual person with whom he’d enjoyed an intimate connection. Oddly enough, he felt this might be the start of a friendship, despite the fact that she worked for him.
If Dani had been used by whoever was after him, she had no clue.
“I’m not going to get all weird on you at the office,” she said, smiling at him.
“I appreciate your telling me, but somehow you didn’t seem the high-strung type.”
“Though I can’t promise not to try and seduce you again, when you least expect it.”
“I can’t promise to resist, so we’re even.”
Her eyes darkened, and she licked her lips. They were plump and inviting and he couldn’t help but sample another taste. He drew her into his side and took her mouth, lowering her to the floor, covering her body with his. As his cock filled again, already reviving for another round, he thought maybe he should find his absent host later, thank him for the party.
Because, damn, his sixth confession would be one to remember.
Jason led Olivia into the throng, on his guard. The gun hidden in his waistband under his leather jacket was a small comfort. It had been too damned easy to crash Boardman’s little soiree, which only meant one thing.
He wanted it to be crashed.
Sweat trickled down his spine and had nothing to do with wearing a stupid jacket in warm weather or the heat being generated by the press of bodies in full lockdown mode.
Fear rode him hard, left a bitter taste in his mouth. Not just because of what Boardman and Palmer would do to him when they discovered he was here. Or how many pieces Palmer would carve from his body when he learned who Jason really was.
Terror of failure was his real enemy.
He’d let everyone down once, most of all himself. He had to make it right, or he’d never hold his head up again.
First, they had to find Alex. “Go stand over there,” he said to Liv, pointing to an alcove near the foyer. “Be on standby to get the hell out, but blend in. Be friendly; whatever you have to do to look like you belong here.”
“I’d rather stay with you.”
“We’ll attract too much attention searching together. Besides, I might be recognized. If I am, I don’t want you with me.” That last tidbit got him a startled look, but at least she didn’t argue.
“Okay, just hurry.”
He split off from her and dove into the crowd, wishing that he knew the layout, that Palmer had brought him here even once. He scanned the faces for Alex, the rock beat skewering his brain cells.
And he realized, with sudden cold in his stomach, that if anyone were to scream in this place, no one would hear. Or care if they did.
He moved faster, trying to shake the feeling they were almost out of time.
When he saw the good-looking kid with the shoulder-length hair, he nearly creamed his pants in relief. All the players were in place now. Just maybe Palmer wouldn’t kill him now, out of gratitude.
He stepped out back, onto the patio, to get better reception. After making sure he was alone, he placed his call. Palmer answ
ered on the second ring. Must be nice having a freaking private jet.
“Give me good news.”
“Everyone is here, including that kid you’ve been so hot to find.”
Palmer sucked in a breath on the other end. He could practically see the guy getting hard. “You’re sure it’s Seraph?”
He rolled his eyes. Couldn’t he have named his slave something cooler, like Spike? “I’m sure. You had me study enough photographs. I could name his moles.”
“Remember, keep him in the basement and prepare him for transport, but don’t harm him. That pleasure is all mine, or you’ll answer to me.”
“I know, you told me. Oh, something I thought you might want to know—he arrived with Olivia Quinn.” He couldn’t figure it out.
“Was her husband with them?”
“Nope. He got here earlier and is indulging in his extracurricular arrangement.”
Palmer laughed, happy as shit. “One last piece of pussy before he dies. How poetic.”
He felt sick again. But he could do this, as long as he didn’t imagine Alex dead. It’s not my fault. They were going to kill him no matter what. “Yeah. Fuckin’ Robert Frost.”
“Finish Quinn like we discussed. His death will provide a distraction while Seraph is dealt with. I’m less than forty minutes away.”
Palmer hung up, leaving him holding the phone.
And carrying a heavy load of guilt for what he was about to do.
Liv huddled in the alcove, nervous and more than a little amazed at the open sex going on all around her.
Pairs. Threesomes. Foursomes! Good Lord, and Alex was here someplace, among this wicked crowd. Had he found a companion to play with? The idea lured her like the moth to the proverbial flame.
Glancing around, she left the alcove and bit her lip, hesitating. Okay, she’d stay close enough to check back in a few minutes, in case Jason returned.
The place was huge. Where to start? She glanced in some of the surrounding rooms, scanning for a familiar blond head. Now and then one caught her eye, but it was always a different man. She went down the main hallway, toward the back of the house, keeping the alcove behind her, glancing in rooms.
