Love and Let Die mam-5

by Lexi Blake

  Chelsea simply turned and started to walk away. Simon watched as she left.

  “Damn it.” Charlie leaned back into him again. “Now she’ll be in pain. She has a couple of scars. Who around here doesn’t? I don’t get what problem she has with being naked.”

  “Because you’re a dreadful exhibitionist.” Charlie didn’t mind walking around in her own gorgeous skin. It was one of the things that attracted him. “She’s more normal, you know.”

  He looked behind him and Alex was taking Eve off the cross, his hands moving gently across her body, their deep connection a palpable thing. Because they loved and trusted each other. Because they were in this life together until the end.

  He could stroke Charlie’s hair all he liked. He could sit here and play with her, but he would always be waiting for her to walk away again. He didn’t like the hollow feeling it left in his gut, but there was a part of Ian that had begun pushing him to take everything from this time they had. Once the shit with Nelson shook down, he would have to let her go. But for now he could take her. He could revel in her.

  “I’ll ask Ryan to take care of Chelsea. He’s married. He won’t have any interest in seeing her naked.” Ian wasn’t sure why he was doing this. Typically, he would allow the sub to flounder until she properly asked for what she wanted. It was part of the process. But Charlie would be worried about her sister, and he needed her calm and collected for what he was about to do. Brighton would be watching. Despite the fact that Derek thought they were a new couple, he also had to know damn well that Ian wouldn’t scene publically with someone he didn’t trust.

  Well, until tonight.

  Derek walked up and sat back down, his face a mask of frustration. “I just got a call from one of my men. They found a dead body at the hotel across from your office. Seventh floor.”

  That happened faster than he would have liked. “That’s terrible. You can’t even trust five-star hotels anymore.”

  “Cut the shit, Ian. I know I’m not telling you anything new. The seventh floor sounds just about perfect for taking a shot at you.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m keeping quiet for now. Give me something.”

  He hated sharing. Sharing was for idiots, but right now sharing information would keep the woman on his lap from a likely waterboarding. Though she did look good wet…

  Charlie wiggled in his lap, reminding him which part of his anatomy was actually in charge.

  “We think the guy is Russian,” Ian offered. Sometimes offering up a little unimportant information could satisfy the authorities. “A man named Zhukov. He’s a known assassin. He’s professional, so you shouldn’t expect an unnecessary body count. The man in the hotel was unfortunate. He needed that specific room. I’ll try to stay off the street so he doesn’t do it again. I can send you a dossier on the fucker, if you like.”

  “Why is he after you?” Brighton asked.

  At least there was an easy answer for that. The key was not to outright lie. “I assume he’s being paid.”

  Charlie let her head rest against his shoulder, but he could feel how tense she was. She understood the stakes, and he had no doubt that she would keep her mouth shut in this instance. She had a knack for self-preservation.

  “By the man from the Fort Worth operation?” Brighton asked. “The rogue agent you’ve been pursuing?”

  It was always better to let a person make their own assumptions. They tended to believe themselves, to feel smart for their deductions. “His name is Eli Nelson. He’s pissed at me for more than one reason. I cost him a very lucrative business deal a few months back. He knows damn well I won’t stop until I’ve crushed him.”

  Not a lie in there. Just not the entire truth.

  Brighton sat back, running a hand through his closely cropped hair. “I hate the spy shit. Give me a good clean murder any day of the week.”

  “The good news is you totally have a murder on your hands now. You’re welcome.”

  Dark brown eyes rolled. “I can’t solve that one, asshole. It’s going to be on my docket, and it’ll go unsolved.”

  An unsolved case on his docket would hurt him. “Look, when I get this figured out, I’ll help you, okay? We can connect some dots and make sure this guy’s family knows why he was killed.”

  Brighton’s eyes narrowed. “Or I can take you into protective custody. It would be the right thing to do. I can’t just let this guy run around. He’s killed once. He could do it again.”

  “You could try. We’ll see if you have a safe house that can handle me.” Ian was well aware that his voice had gone positively frigid. “You know what will happen if you do that. This guy will disappear and he’ll resurface when I least expect it. Right now I know who’s coming after me. All you would do is waste months of my life, and I would lose the chance to make sure I’m right about who wants me dead.”

  Brighton let his head fall back. “I should call the fucking Feds in. Hell, I should call in the Agency. They should be dealing with this shit.”

  He couldn’t let that happen. The minute the Agency got involved, he would lose control of Charlie, and there were some places even he wasn’t sure he could get into. “I’m calling in that chip you owe me, Derek. For Kandahar.”

  Ian had saved Derek’s life in Afghanistan and covered up a very substantial flub on the former sergeant’s part. It had been a messy bloody affair, and Ian had cleaned it up. He knew he was going straight for the throat. Brighton still hadn’t forgiven himself for what had happened, but Ian couldn’t afford to back down.

  “Damn it.” Brighton leaned forward. “That is so fucking unfair.”

  “You should know better than most that life isn’t fair, Derek.” Ian couldn’t back down. Didn’t even want to. Favors were meant to be called in, and he’d done Derek Brighton a big one.

  Brighton held a hand up in surrender. “All right, but you have to keep me up to date. You should know that the minute this affects another civilian, I won’t care what I owe you. I’ll do my job, Ian.”

  He would do it because once he hadn’t and that one incident had affected the rest of his life. Ian knew he should be damn happy he had that favor or Derek’s duty would screw them all. “I wouldn’t expect less.”

  Charlie relaxed a little.

  Brighton turned slightly and motioned toward the bar, holding up a single finger. Jillian nodded and started to pour him a beer. “I don’t think I’m in the mood to play tonight. The good news is that frees me up to drink.”

  Two drinks were all anyone was allowed at Sanctum if they were playing, but all of his Doms were known to treat the bar like a bar when they weren’t. Derek, especially. Lately, Ian had noticed Derek didn’t play much. He seemed to prefer to watch scenes and drink and go home alone.

  “This one’s on me.” It was the least he could do and besides, Ian wasn’t drinking this evening. For the scene he had planned, he wouldn’t touch alcohol.

  Jillian brought over a frosty mug and sat it down in front of Brighton. Ian motioned her over and quietly asked that she find her Dom and request he take care of Chelsea. Jillian, who had also witnessed the scene, nodded her assent and went to look for her husband, Ryan.

  Charlie’s face tilted up, and there were tears in her eyes.

  “Don’t,” Ian said. He didn’t need a crying sub. “And don’t forget protocol. I’ve been lax. I won’t be now.”

  There were advantages to being able to control her ability to talk. He didn’t have to listen to mushy thank yous. Actually, this was kind of the dream. Charlie couldn’t talk. She could only sit there and look pretty. If only there was a high protocol for not getting herself killed by assassins. He would definitely put that shit in place.

  Brighton took a long sip of his beer, watching them carefully. “Are you sure it’s the right time to take a sub? Don’t get me wrong. I’m actually happy to see you with a sub, but aren’t you a little worried she could get caught in the cross fire?”

  “She’s practically bulletproof.” He
slapped her very juicy ass. “And she’s solid. She can take a lot of damage.”

  Charlie’s mouth firmed to a stubborn line and her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t say a word. She just glared at him.

  Yeah, he liked high protocol.

  Alex chose that moment to carry in a very happy looking Eve. She was wrapped in a blanket and cuddled in her husband’s arms. Alex sat down on the couch beside Ian and Charlie. “Hey, Jillian, can you get me a beer? You want anything, baby?”

  They were through with play for the evening, but Eve just shook her head and cuddled closer.

  Alex grinned. “She’ll be asleep in a couple of minutes. She’ll be snoring away.”

  Eve slapped at her husband’s chest affectionately. “I do not snore.”

  “Of course, angel.” Alex mouthed a “wow” Ian’s way. “So how’s everything going tonight? Is Charlotte enjoying Sanctum?”

  He wished he could put Alex in high protocol. “She loves it here. She’s really looking forward to her first scene.”

  Charlie’s eyes widened. He hadn’t mentioned they would be playing together here. Her lips curled up and a grateful look came into her eyes. She very likely thought he was planning to spank her or flog her and then do what he used to do. Fuck her hard and long in front of an audience. Charlie didn’t mind other people watching. She didn’t demand it, but in a club environment, she wouldn’t shy away from it either. She would give as good as she got. She wouldn’t hold back for a minute.

  But he didn’t intend to spank her. And he wasn’t going to fuck her. Probably. No. Definitely. Definitely probably not going to fuck her.

  She wiggled in his lap.

  Shit. He was going to fuck her.

  “I saw Ryan getting the cotton ready. Are you sure about a fire play demo tonight?” Alex asked.

  Charlie gasped. “Fire play?”

  Fuck. Now he had to spank her, too. She was just set on getting her damn way. It wouldn’t work, but it looked like he would have to prove it to her. “Over my lap. That’s ten.”

  “Ian, we should talk about this,” Charlie sputtered.

  “That’s twenty. Are you sure you want to go for thirty? I have set up a very nice scene to introduce you to Sanctum as my sub. Of course, you have the power, sweetheart. You can always say no and then I can find a new Dom to show you around.” Maybe he wouldn’t be fucking her tonight. Maybe he could wriggle his way out of Alex’s trap. His life would be so much easier if she said no and he could dump her on someone else.

  Simon and Jesse perhaps. They could handle close cover. Probably. Except Jesse had tried to shoot Alex and failed to hit his target. Oh, sure, Charlie had gotten in the way, but Jesse hadn’t even managed to get a second shot off or anything. Ian would have to work on that problem before he cleared him to watch someone important.

  And Simon didn’t have a ton of field experience. Charlie could be slippery when she wanted to be.

  No. He would still have to watch her.

  “That’s so unfair, Ian,” she whispered the words, her voice breaking a little. “I’m scared. I’ve never seen it done before. It sounds a little extreme.”

  “Then you can say no. That’s thirty, Charlie. Of course, if you say no, we can forget about the spanking, too. It’s your choice.” He was putting her in a corner, but then she’d put him in one by walking into his life. She needed to fully understand how this would work. It would be his way. All the way. Her only option was to say no and walk away and free him.

  He should have known she wouldn’t trust him. Deep down he had known and that was exactly why he’d planned the fire play scene. She’d resisted it before. He knew she was scared. He was a bastard, but he wasn’t going to change his plans now.

  Charlie stood, her legs firm on the carpet beneath her. Her face showed no expression at all, and he was pretty sure he was about to get punched again. That would likely blow their cover with Derek.

  Then she pulled up her skirt and placed herself over his lap.

  Fuck. She was going to kill him. Her ass was so round and perfect and he couldn’t stop himself from caressing it. He ran his hands over those plump cheeks, the skin so smooth under his palm. There was still a little pink to those cheeks from his earlier spanking.

  He slapped her ass lightly. Once, twice and then ten times rapidly. He was softer this time because he didn’t want her sore. Or maybe he was softer because she’d turned his fucking brain to mush. His cock was hard and pulsing with every smack to that sweet ass.

  He counted in his head. It was part of letting her relax. By accepting his discipline, she was accepting the scene, and he needed her ready for it. Unless she was counting, she wouldn’t know when he would stop and she could concentrate on the pure sensation.

  Sure enough, he felt her start to relax, her spine softening and body melting against his lap.

  He continued smacking her cheeks in a soft rhythm. Her face rubbed against his leg and he…fuck…he could smell her arousal. She responded so openly, so honestly. He never doubted that she wanted him. It had always been there. Even when she was betraying him, her pussy knew who its Master was.

  He finished off the final ten slaps, each one causing her to relax further. He used long strokes to hold the heat against her flesh. Her skin was warm and pink, her whole body like butter against him.

  This was what he wanted, her quiet and trusting against him. He helped her up but didn’t bother to push her skirt back down. He liked the way she smelled, all tangy arousal and sweet woman. He pulled her into his lap, not giving a damn that she was wet and it would get on his leathers. It was a stain he would wear proudly. She cuddled against him, tucking her head under his chin, and he knew why he hadn’t held another sub like this in all these years. Because they didn’t fill his arms the way she did. They didn’t fit him, like a piece of a puzzle he’d always been missing. They didn’t surround him.

  They didn’t make him feel.

  He looked up at Alex, who was cuddling Eve and sending him an encouraging look. Like he’d just joined Alex’s fellowship of dipshit husbands.

  Derek was staring at them, and then his eyes trailed away. He was alone and it was obvious that he was very aware of that fact.

  Ian was more like Derek than Alex.

  He couldn’t tell Alex how much he wished he could be like him or Sean or the rest of them. Eve had never betrayed Alex. Grace had never chosen someone else over Sean. Serena had been steadfast and loyal to Jake and Adam. Avery hadn’t cost Liam and his friends years of their lives.

  He could admit deep inside that she was the woman for him. He’d never really denied it.

  But he couldn’t forgive her, and he damn straight would never forgive himself.

  Feelings sucked. And Alex was right. Eve did snore.

  Chapter Seven

  Charlie looked out over the crowd and hoped to hell Ian knew what he was doing. It was one time she kind of hoped he’d practiced on every available sub since he was planning on setting her on freaking fire.

  Fire hurt. Fire burned. Cavemen had figured that out, but Ian Taggart was behind the times.

  He stood at the small stand Ryan had set up after Alex and Eve’s scene. She hadn’t been paying attention. She’d sort of watched Alex and Eve’s scene, but mostly she’d just enjoyed being close to Ian. She’d also worried about her sister too much to get involved in anyone’s scene. Now she could see plainly that her sister was getting what she needed from Sanctum’s Dom in Residence who, unlike Simon Weston, didn’t really want to see her naked. Chelsea was holding on to the bindings of a St. Andrew’s Cross and Ryan Church was using a deerskin flogger on her back, buttocks, and hamstrings. He was very carefully working her over and Chelsea was perfectly still for the treatment. There was no passion there, just a simple exchange.

  What would she have gotten from Simon? The big Brit was standing at the back of the crowd watching the scene play out. His handsome face was stony, his eyes locked on Chelsea. He would have forced her past her
comfort zone. Charlie got the feeling he also would have rewarded her for being brave.

  Chelsea had gotten to the point that she couldn’t give up control. Simon couldn’t know how much it had cost her sister to offer to let him tie her down. Chelsea even hated seat belts. But she’d been more willing to face that fear than to take off her clothes. Was her sister so ashamed of the scars on her legs that she was willing to never take a lover? Did she honestly intend to stay a virgin for the rest of her life? Because Charlie was pretty damn sure she was. Would Chelsea spend her whole life never trusting a soul?

  Charlie could spend her life like that. She could walk away from Ian and she would very likely be able to find a man who would acquiesce to her demands and she would get exactly what she said she needed.

  Or she could trust Ian and discover a whole new world of what she wanted.

  She tried to see exactly what was on the table. It looked like there was a large wad of cotton balls, several plastic bottles containing god only knew what, and she could see the glass pieces for a violet wand.

  “Charlie?” Ian gestured to the massage table in the middle of the stage floor.

  Already there were people standing around, including Serena, who gave her a wink and a little thumbs up. She was probably already writing a fire play scene in her head.

  It was just a scene. Just play. Ian had never hurt her. She’d been the one to hurt him. He’d kept his end of the bargain. It was past time to keep hers.

  She was afraid of fire, but then she was also afraid of elevators, and when she held his hand, she could handle them.

  A deep sense of peace settled over her. Most of her life she had shoved her fear down because fear could get her killed. But it would be all right to be afraid at Sanctum. He was here. It was all right to feel afraid because nothing bad would happen to her.

  She let her heart race as she walked to him.

  “You’re overdressed for the scene, love.”