Re/Paired (Doms of the FBI Book 2)

by Michele Zurlo

  She pressed her hips closer, cradling him with her body, and rested her hands on his chest. She moved them around until she found his nipples. They responded to the light flick of her thumbs, and he wondered at the calculating look in her eyes. But not for long. She pinched them through his shirt.

  An unexpectedly sharp pain radiated up his pecs and down to his abs. He struggled to conceal his gasp. No woman had ever dared something like that.

  “You like pain.” She loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt for more access, and he didn’t stop her. He wasn’t sure whether this counted as topping from the bottom, but he wanted to know if her foray had been a fluke. Yes, he liked pain. But he’d never considered his nipples as sexual organs before.

  And he’d only let her get so far before he took over.

  She raked her nails down his chest, returning to twist both nipples at the same time. He didn’t know how she managed to grasp them, but as the pain throbbed through his system, he gave thanks for her dexterity.

  He let her play for a few minutes more, her touch driving him to the brink. Once he got there, he snatched her wrists and imprisoned them behind her back. She gasped at his sudden violence, but her body softened, as did the expression on her face.

  “Yes,” he said. “I like pain.” He’d never admitted that to a submissive before. It proved how in tune she was with him, to have picked up on that tiny detail. Malcolm had mentioned it before, but in a way that everyone could assume was facetious.

  He devoured her with his kiss, pouring his need to possess her into that one act. Waves of heat, generated by her mouth and her pussy, called to him. He plunged his tongue between her lips, taking her so violently that she couldn’t hope to participate in the kiss. She softened even more, yielding heart and soul.

  Then he broke it off suddenly. “Turn around and bend over. Brace your hands on the floor.”

  The need to possess her drove him. She needed this reassurance that she belonged to him, that he wanted nothing but what she could give to him. And she needed to be reminded of her place. She might not want to use titles, and she was new to being a submissive in practice, but he couldn’t be too lenient. It marked how much he cared about her that he took the time to remind her of her role. In the past, a woman who took the liberties Kat had would have been shown the door.

  The position made her skirt stretch tightly over her fine ass. He lifted the dove-gray material to find those delectable cheeks split by the electric-blue thong he’d purchased. His cock, already hard, reared up and surged forward. It wanted freedom.

  He nudged the inside of her high heel. “Spread your legs a little wider, Kitty Kat. And turn your toes inward a bit.” It would help her balance. He had no intention of being gentle.

  With one finger, he drew away the string of her thong. Heat and silken softness gripped the head of his cock and pulled him deeper. Immediately she clenched her vaginal muscles. White edged his vision, pleasure mixed with pain. Even in this physically demanding position, she was seeing to his needs.

  He held her hips, anchoring her where he wanted her, and fucked her with everything he had. The creamy slurp of her arousal was answered with the smack of his hips against her ass. This was hard and wet, meant to confirm her submissiveness, not to give her an orgasm.

  In another turnaround, he refused to come until she did. Gone was his need to deny her an orgasm just because he didn’t want to hold off long enough to see to her pleasure. She could experience the affirmation and ride the sweet endorphin rush that, according to the way her walls sucked at him, was imminent.

  She made desperate, guttural noises that threatened to drive him over the edge.

  “That’s it, Kitty Kat. Come for me.” Drawing on the last of his reserves, he increased his pace. “For me.”

  She shouted his name, screaming loud enough to alert anyone near the condo that she was having an orgasm. He pounded into her four more times before he couldn’t hold off his climax any longer.

  He lifted her up and into his arms, not bothering to fix his pants first. Collapsing against the counter that divided her kitchen and dining areas, he held her tightly against him. She trembled and clung to him, and a single sob escaped her throat.

  “I’ve got you, honey. You’re safe.”

  If possible, her grip intensified. “I know I’m safe with you. I think it’s all the time I spend away from you that gets to me. I…I’ve never been a needy person, and needing you like this scares me a little.”

  The weight of the worry pressing down on his shoulders threatened to topple him. “We’ll find that bastard, Kat.”

  She shook her head, but because she refused to lift her face away from his shirt, it ended up being a tiny movement he felt rather than saw. He was also sure he was now wearing her mascara on his white dress shirt, but he didn’t mind that so much.

  “He doesn’t even matter in all this.” She sniffled and looked up at last, but she kept her eyes downcast. The remnants of tears glinted from her eyelashes. “You make me feel such extreme emotions, and I’ve developed a powerful attachment to you. I like knowing I belong to you, that you’ll take care of me, that you’ll take pleasure in my body and then I can spend some time with my head against your knee and your hand moving through my hair.”

  Kat was a capable, independent woman. There was no disputing facts. However, she harbored the sweet soul of a submissive. All these years, she’d spent enormous amounts of time and energy trying to please everyone in her life. Now she could concentrate those intentions on him, and she was finding the comfort in being needed. Happiness soared through him.

  He hooked his finger under her chin and forced her to look him in the eye. “There’s nothing wrong with any of that, honey. I promise I’ll always cherish you and the gift of your submission. There is nothing on this earth more precious to me than you.”

  Not one for tender words or loving declarations, he expected the reassurance to lodge in his throat, but it didn’t. His pride thoroughly approved, and some of the scars on his heart softened. For the first time in his life, love filled his chest, and it didn’t hurt. He meant to tell her. He even opened his mouth, but the doorbell rang, cutting him off and putting him on high alert. They weren’t expecting visitors.

  He fixed his pants and pulled a small piece from the holster in his jacket, checked the chamber, and handed it to her. “If I don’t call out that it’s all clear, you shoot whoever comes up those stairs. Got it?”

  She had good aim. He or Malcolm took her and her mother to the gun range regularly to keep their skills sharp. He didn’t worry about the actuality of her having to shoot someone. The pervert would have to go through him first.

  Kat studied him, the passion dimming slowly from her eyes, replaced with concern. “Do you really think my stalker would knock?”

  They hadn’t experienced activity in five days. Stalkers tended to lie low after a larger event to lull their victim into a false sense of security. People took chances when they didn’t have their guard up. Neither he nor Malcolm would allow Kat to take risks. They were both too protective of the ones they loved. “Don’t know,” he said. “As time passes and nobody catches him, he’ll become more confident. His actions will escalate. He might even become bold enough to knock at your door, pretending to be lost or something.”

  She pressed her lips together, girding herself for whatever happened, and nodded her understanding. By the time he’d crossed her small eating area, she’d smoothed out her clothes.

  Her door didn’t have a peephole. The only window down at her entryway was above the door. It let in light, but the angle of the steps coming down didn’t allow for a preview of the visitor, and the cameras they’d aimed at the door weren’t set up to record faces. Another flaw of the building design. Kat was going to need to sell her unit. Even after they caught her stalker, there was no way he was going to let her stay in a place so difficult to secure. In the meantime, Malcolm had to build a better camera, and Keith would pay a visit
to a home improvement store to get a peephole. They weren’t difficult to install.

  Throwing open the door, he centered his gun on the figure standing there.

  Darcy’s jaw dropped open, but she froze instead of clutching her chest. Or the little bump showing on her abdomen. That would have been worse.

  Keith holstered his weapon. “Sorry. You didn’t call, and we don’t have a live feed set up to show who’s at the door.”

  She closed her mouth and smiled, completely composed despite the circumstances of his greeting, and he was reminded of how well she’d kept it together during the bust that had nearly cost him his friendship with Malcolm. “Now I really, really have to use the bathroom.” Her blue eyes sparkled, and he was relieved to realize she hadn’t taken it personally.

  He stepped out of her way, pivoting to call up the stairs. “All clear, Kat. It’s Darcy.”

  Darcy squeezed his arm as she swept past him. She almost never passed up the opportunity to touch him in some reassuring or friendly way. He wondered if Malcolm had told her about Keith’s aversion to uninvited touching.

  Few people who attempted casual contact didn’t set off Keith’s internal alarms. While Darcy didn’t trip any warning wires, he still wasn’t sure exactly how to treat her. The friendly, welcoming manner in which she always treated him was at odds with the wariness to which submissives instinctively reverted around him. Even many people who didn’t consciously identify as submissive bowed to his authority. No doubt about it: his best friend had netted a singular woman.

  Since he was at the door, he did a visual sweep of the area before returning to the main floor. Kat waited for him in the kitchen, her eyes wild and questioning. He felt a tightening in his chest, because he knew she was worried that Malcolm would find out about them. Though he knew Malcolm would be pissed initially, he preferred to be open about their relationship. If he wasn’t concerned, why should she be?

  Kat handed the gun back to him and smoothed her hands over her clothes. Her attempts at fixing her appearance only made him want to tear her clothes off so he could watch her hands run over her naked flesh. “Where is Mal?”

  Keith shook his head. “I didn’t see his car.”

  “He’s picking up some Thai food.” Darcy breezed into the kitchen, a bright smile lighting her face. “I asked him to drop me off first so I could use the bathroom. He was supposed to call.”

  Kat extracted her phone from her purse. “Yep. He called about thirty seconds ago. It went right to voice mail. I hate when it does that.”

  “So anyway, unless you guys want to explain to Malcolm why you both look like you just had sex, I’d go clean up.” She leveled a firm look at Kat. “Wash your face. Maybe change into something less wrinkled. I’ll call him and let him know you’re safe so he doesn’t come zooming back without food. I’m too hungry to wait for him to process all this before I eat.”

  Keith used the guest bathroom. He didn’t have much to fix. His dishabille was the result of hastily pulling his pants into place and a misbuttoned shirt. He had been chasing bad guys today, so a few stains on his shirt would go unremarked. Kat did look like she’d been well and truly loved. Her lips were a bit swollen, and her makeup had run when she’d cried.

  He returned to find Darcy relaxing on a chair in the living room, the remote in her hand. She’d turned on a home improvement show. Seeing him, she blushed. “I can’t seem to stop watching these shows. Malcolm is going to kill me if I ask him about redecorating or remodeling another thing. I’ve already changed my mind about the baby’s room a dozen times and told him I didn’t like his living room furniture. That black leather sofa needs to die.”

  Keith grimaced. Malcolm had searched for almost six months before he found a couch he liked. It was a distinctly masculine sectional, and Darcy’s home decor walked a fine line between classical and modern.

  He sat on the sofa and leaned forward. “You sent Malcolm out for food because you didn’t want him to catch us. How did you know?”

  She seemed to chew on that one for a while. Thoughts marched through the shifting frowns on her face until she settled on something. “I didn’t know. I suspected. She said a few things last weekend when we were alone that made me think she was seeing somebody, and then I noticed the way you were looking at her. You’ve always looked at her like you were half in love, but this was different. More possessive. You looked at her the way a Dom looks at his sub, and that was new. She responds to you differently now. And just a few minutes ago, she looked like a well-satisfied sub. It’s a great feeling, though it does sometimes leave your face a mess. I’ll have to give her some makeup tips.”

  “Why would you keep this from Malcolm?” He had a list of questions, and that meant their conversation was going to come off sounding more like an interrogation. He knew he had to be careful—Darcy wasn’t fond of being questioned like this—but he needed answers. Plus he was baffled that she would keep this from her Master.

  “I won’t for long.” Her ice-blue gaze chilled him, and he understood that she didn’t like deceiving Mal. “However, I recognize that it’s your place to tell him, so I’ll give you one week. He isn’t going to be happy about it, especially if it comes from me. At least if you tell him, you can explain. Assure him that your intentions are pure.”

  His intentions were anything but pure. Honorable, maybe, but also carnal and primal. “Kat doesn’t want him to know.”

  “No, I don’t expect she does. She’ll go to any length to protect the people in her life, won’t she?” Darcy muted the TV and turned to face him fully. “I bet she’s struggling with lots of guilt, though. Lying doesn’t sit well with her. That’s a good thing. Lies ruin relationships.”

  Yes, his Kitty Kat went out of her way to avoid hurting people’s feelings. He loved that about her. But guilt was definitely becoming a factor. It did eat at her from the inside. He nodded at Darcy in agreement. “I’ll talk to her about it.”

  With that, Darcy took one step closer to becoming one of the few women he trusted. The rest of his questions sidled away, of lesser importance now that he understood her position.

  “Have you called your sister?”

  Though her volume dropped, Keith jumped visibly. Of course Malcolm told her everything. After lying to her the way he had when they met, he probably went out of his way to make it up to her by telling her more than she had a right to know.

  “Why would I do that?”

  She seemed taken aback by the derision in his voice. He watched her struggle to find the right response.

  He strived for a gentler tone. “Whatever Malcolm has told you, it can’t be the whole story if you think I would contact any of those people.” Of course, Mal thought he should contact his sister, so Darcy probably shared his opinion.

  Kat emerged from the hallway. She’d exchanged her power skirt for a pair of white shorts and a fitted blue cotton shirt. The cut of the shorts emphasized the sexy length of her legs, and the brightness of the white highlighted her olive complexion. Keith shifted to ease the growing discomfort in his pants.

  “What people?” She sat down next to him, though he noticed the longing look she cast at the spot on the floor near his feet. The ache in his balls grew.

  He sighed and braced to hear the same speech from Kat that Malcolm had given him last week. “My sister has been calling, leaving messages for me at work.”

  Her eyes didn’t widen with surprise or sympathy. “And your mother was trying to talk to you Sunday.”

  “Malcolm is under the impression that you were going to at least call. He thought he’d convinced you to take a chance on your sister.” Darcy’s eyes widened as she made the connection. Then she laughed. “But you decided to take a chance with his sister. Oh, he’s going to love the irony. Eventually.”

  Keith wasn’t sure about that, but he didn’t get a chance to respond. Kat clasped her hands together, worrying them in her lap. “He’s not going to get the chance. I’m not ready for him to know.” She c
ast an apologetic look at him. “I’m not ready to face his anger, and I haven’t even told my parents yet.”

  He wanted to reassure her, but he also knew he needed to push her on this issue. This was an ideal area for him to assert his dominance. “Darcy’s promised us one week to get ready. She’s a good sub, and we’re putting her in a bad position by asking her to keep this from Mal.”

  Darcy’s phone trilled. “That’s Malcolm. I called to let him know that I was right and you guys were fine.” She picked up the phone and motioned to the front door, mouthing the words He’s here.

  The promise of a week’s reprieve seemed to have relaxed Kat, but Keith wasn’t similarly comforted. Malcolm was far from stupid, and if Darcy had noticed the way he looked at Kat, then it was only a matter of time before Malcolm noticed as well.

  He decided to let Kat spend some more time in her bubble before he was forced to pop it. Perhaps giving her a deadline would help her mentally prepare for the coming-out process. Darcy coming over had turned out to be a good thing.

  Malcolm had brought more carryout than four people could possibly eat at one sitting. Kat surveyed the number of paper sacks brimming with hot deliciousness that Malcolm managed to carry inside.

  “Jesus, Mal. How many more people are coming?”

  Malcolm grinned and kissed his sister on the cheek. “The way Darcy’s craving any kind of Asian food out there, I’m going to need these leftovers. She’ll go through them in a day or two.”

  Halfway through dinner, many of the cartons of food had ended up untouched. It wasn’t due to lack of trying, though. Once they all slowed down—even Darcy, who had packed away an impressive amount—conversation began to flow.

  “The Holbrook case is going to break wide open this weekend.” Malcolm stabbed a fork into his rice as he spoke.

  Kat regarded her brother with her eyebrows drawn together. “I thought the investigative portion of that case was finished. It’s set to go to trial in two months.”