Re/Paired (Doms of the FBI Book 2)

by Michele Zurlo

  Katrina felt bad about her cowardice. Darcy said the same thing Keith had, but she phrased it in a much more sympathetic light. She saw how keeping this from Malcolm wouldn’t preserve his friendship with Keith. It might even damage the trust between them, and that possibility hit Katrina hard.

  And Darcy wasn’t finished. “He would be mad at me because I hurt him. This upsets me because I hate the idea of him being hurt, especially by me. I’d rather face a year of not being flogged than hurt him. That’s why you have a deadline.”

  Katrina didn’t want to cause problems between Darcy and Malcolm. She nodded her understanding. “I’ll tell him. He’s going to flip out.”

  Darcy squeezed Katrina’s wrist. “I’ll be there if you want. I’m pretty good at calming him down and getting him to listen.”

  “Hello!” A voice called from the front hall. Katrina didn’t recognize it, so she figured Darcy’s sister had arrived. She’d interrupted an emotional exchange, and Katrina had to tamp down annoyance at the intrusion. Darcy didn’t release Katrina’s wrist.

  “In the kitchen!” Darcy grinned in the direction of the door to the hall. She lowered her volume to say one last thing to Katrina. “We’ll talk about this later. I know you won’t want this getting out just yet. Our secret for now.”

  Amy was Darcy’s older sister, the kind who was opinionated and protective of her little sister. Katrina had met Amy only once before. She’d been solicitous and polite. Malcolm spoke highly of her, and that was enough for Katrina.

  Her hair framed her face in a way that made her large blue eyes stand out. Katrina knew Amy was thirty-two and a party planner, but that was about all. Amy set a bottle of wine on the table and gave Darcy a huge hug.

  Behind Amy, Layla frowned at Katrina and shook her finger. “Hey, you never called me back.”

  “Called you back?” Katrina had been unaware that Layla had called. Her week had centered around Keith and work and that other issue, and nothing else had fit into her head. She felt guilty about that. Once upon a time, Layla had been her closest friend in the world. Now that she thought about it, she realized that she and Layla had been drifting apart for years, since about the time Layla had dated a Dom most of the family had disliked. With a pang, Katrina recognized how much she missed her cousin. “When did you call?”

  “I didn’t. But you knew I wanted you to dish on that whole thing with Keith’s mom.” Layla hugged Darcy, grabbed a plate, and helped herself to some of the cooling brisket. “Damn, this stuff smells good. I need a man who can cook.”

  Amy pulled the cookie sheet full of foil-wrapped baked potatoes from the oven. “I just need a man. At this point, I don’t care if he cooks or not. I don’t even want him in the kitchen.”

  Darcy sat down in the chair next to Katrina. “Just the bedroom, then? You know, there are lots of places in a kitchen to tie somebody up, Amy.”

  Wrinkling her nose, Amy opened the foil on a potato. “I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

  Layla snagged a potato and sat down across from Darcy. “You should try one of those online dating sites. I can see it now: ‘Seeking single male for bondage and sex. No cooking required.’ You’ll get lots of calls.”

  “Yeah. No, thanks. My luck I would end up with some biker freak.” Amy set down her plate next to Layla, and then she went to the refrigerator to grab fixings. She added butter, sour cream, and shredded cheddar to the mix. The sights and aromas made Katrina hungry again, so she availed herself of the food.

  “Ohh, wine. Yum.” Layla got three glasses from the cupboard. “Just what I need.” She poured for Katrina and Amy without asking if they wanted any. Katrina didn’t mind. She sipped the wine, ate her potato, and let herself get caught up in the conversation and company.

  Two hours later, the bottle was empty, as was another one that Amy had pilfered from Darcy’s cupboard, noting that Darcy wouldn’t be drinking it anytime soon. The topic turned to flogging.

  “I just don’t get it,” Amy said, her brow furrowing severely. “Why would you want to let somebody hit you with one of those things? How is that a turn-on?”

  Darcy smiled serenely, but she didn’t say a word.

  Layla rolled her eyes, evidence she’d been through this with Amy before. “It feels good. Really good. You should try it.”

  “It doesn’t always hurt.” Katrina added her caveat quietly, thinking of the soft kiss of that deerskin flogger. It could have hurt if he’d used more force in his delivery, but Keith had chosen to initiate her gently. “A lighter hit can feel like a massage.”

  Layla lifted a brow at Katrina. “Sounds like somebody popped her S and M cherry. Congratulations, honey. Who’s the lucky guy?”

  Katrina didn’t want to answer that. Thankfully Darcy intervened. “You know, Amy, it’s mostly all about the scene and the skill of the Dom. I mean, sure, I do like to be flogged or whipped or whatever just because I enjoy the pain, but a lot of people who don’t particularly enjoy it still like it as part of a scene.”

  From Amy’s expression, it was clear her sister’s explanation puzzled her. “I just don’t understand where you stick it into a romantic night. Movie, dinner, conversation, making out, beat me, have sex?”

  Layla burst into laughter, pressing her hand to her chest as she rocked back. “Damn, girl. You don’t have to have sex.”

  “I do,” Darcy said. She sipped her herbal tea. “It’s a punishment if I don’t.”

  With her amusement dying down, Layla shook her head at Darcy. “You’ve only been flogged by people you want to have sex with. If I flogged you, you’d feel differently. Sometimes it’s nice to have a relaxing session, then curl up on the sofa and watch a movie that doesn’t make you think too hard.” She sounded wistful.

  With her gaze fixed on her teacup, Darcy appeared to consider Layla’s assertion. It made Katrina think as well. Last weekend Keith had flogged her as a form of relaxation. Inherent in that was an underlying trust that Katrina didn’t think she could muster with another person. She gathered Darcy felt the same way.

  Then Darcy surprised her. “Okay. I’m willing to try it.” Then she turned to Amy. “You should try it too. I know how to be gentle. Scott didn’t like the stinging sensations, so I learned to be good with a light thud. But I might be out of practice. Malcolm won’t even consider switching, not that I want to. I like things how they are.”

  “I’m not out of practice.” Layla finished off her wine. “Though I think we should wait an hour for this light buzz to wear off. And you need to get permission from Malcolm first. I’m not touching you without his consent.”

  “Of course.” Darcy already had her cell on the table. She tapped out a text message.

  Katrina felt left out, though she didn’t want to be flogged by anyone who wasn’t Keith. However, she recognized an opportunity when it stared her in the face. “I’d like to learn how to use the flogger.”

  Layla arched one blonde brow. “If you got yourself a switch, then your mystery man isn’t who I assumed it was. I can’t believe you’re keeping secrets from me. We’ve been friends our whole lives.”

  While Amy merely looked curious, Layla was hurt. Being the same age and the daughters of close sisters, Katrina and Layla had been close since birth. When they were younger, they used to buy matching outfits so they could dress like twins. They’d even lobbied their parents to move to the same school district so they could take classes together. It hadn’t worked, but that hadn’t dampened their friendship.

  Katrina bit her lip. “You have to promise to keep it a secret for a week.”

  “A week?” Layla frowned.

  “Just until Thursday night,” Darcy said. Her tight smile reminded Katrina of the deadline and just how serious Darcy was about it.

  Reluctantly Katrina nodded. In her mind, she scheduled that evening as the night it would happen. She’d invite Mal and Darcy to dinner, where she and Keith would reveal the truth. “Thursday night. You have to promise.”

  “Okay
, I’ll keep it to myself until Thursday night. Don’t Amy and Darcy have to promise too?” Layla’s cutting tone was one she rarely used. For the first time, Katrina realized how difficult it was going to be to date someone who was so close with her family.

  Katrina already had Darcy’s promise. She looked to Amy, who shrugged. “I can’t think of anyone I’d tell anyway.”

  Taking a deep breath to delay the inevitable, Katrina sort of wished Darcy would do it for her. But then she shook off the thought. She needed to have the courage to do this herself. “Keith. I’m dating Keith, and Malcolm doesn’t know yet.”

  Layla whistled. “It is who I thought it was. Damn, girl. You’re playing with fire. Keith dated a friend of a friend of mine. She said he was seriously intense, and not always in a good way. She had some less-than-flattering things to say about him.”

  Katrina shrugged. Keith had admitted that he wasn’t in the habit of treating his submissives all that well. “He’s different with me.”

  “I hope so, because Malcolm will kill him if he isn’t.” Layla sat back and considered something. “So, you’re not seriously thinking Keith will let you flog him?”

  Actually, she did think he would let her. It might take some convincing, but she had the impression he would want her to have that skill. “Flog him, yes. Switch, no. I’m not sure how that’ll work, exactly. I just know it will.”

  “I think I struck a nerve with Mal. He said ‘no’ to Layla and ‘practice on a pillow’ to Trina.” Darcy bit her lip as she stared at the text message on her phone. “Yes, I remember now. Scott spent a lot of time abusing our pillows. I don’t have any velour, but Malcolm has some suede throw pillows that go with his leather couch.”

  Amy giggled. “You hate that couch. I’m surprised you don’t practice on it with a bull whip.”

  Katrina and Keith had been with Malcolm when he’d purchased his black leather sectional. She remembered how he’d fallen immediately for it. Three weeks ago, Malcolm, M.J., and their father had remodeled the living room, putting in an eight-foot sliding glass door where there used to be a window. The maligned sofa dominated that room. Katrina thought it looked nice in there with the mahogany flooring and monster-sized television set. It was essentially a man cave. “What do you have against it?”

  Darcy rolled her lips inward, obviously thinking of a way to make her criticism diplomatic. “It just isn’t my taste.”

  “Darcy hates leather furniture.” Amy laughed at her sister’s discomfort. “She always has, but this is a little worse. Now the smell of leather makes her nauseated. She can’t go in that room at all anymore.”

  Katrina’s heart went out to Darcy. “Does Mal know that?”

  Darcy waved her hand dismissively, and Katrina had the feeling she was more uncomfortable airing her grievance than she was having the offending furniture in her house. “I’ll get my way eventually. Now, I say we head down to the dungeon. Layla and I will walk you two newbies through Floggers 101. Trina, can you grab the suede throws?”

  Just to show Darcy that she wasn’t the kind of person who would choose sides in a disagreement between her brother and his fiancée, Katrina fetched three of the pillows from Malcolm’s man cave. Malcolm and Darcy’s dungeon was bright and airy, enjoying the benefits of three large daylight windows. The glass was heavily frosted to let in light and preserve privacy.

  A black lacquered Saint Andrew’s cross filled one corner. Other equipment was folded up and pushed against the walls, so Katrina couldn’t get a real sense of the setup, which was fine with her. She didn’t need to see those kinds of details with regard to her brother.

  Darcy led them to a wall that was covered in hanging floggers, canes, crops, and things Katrina didn’t know the names for. She thought they’d get right to work, but Layla and Darcy insisted on talking through the way a flogger was made and the mechanics of a swing.

  “You want to look for rounded edges and tips. If they’re sharp, especially the tips, they could cut the skin. Unless you’re into blood play, avoid the cheaper floggers.” Layla pointed out the features as she talked.

  It took Katrina a moment to figure out what she meant. The falls were flat, and the tips were cut on a diagonal. If she looked closely, she could see that the flat edges weren’t squared off; they were rounded. The tips did come to a point, but that point was rounded as well.

  Amy shivered. “It still looks scary.”

  “It’s not,” Katrina assured her. “The first time Keith flogged me, he nearly put me to sleep. He said he used deerskin.”

  Darcy wrinkled her nose. “It can give a light sting. Malcolm has deerskin down here somewhere. He hasn’t figured out yet that I’d consider that thing a punishment. It wouldn’t do the trick for me. I prefer elk or rubber.”

  “I like the deerskin,” Layla said. “You can get a lot of mileage out of it, and it’s good for beginners. Not everybody is in it for the pain.”

  Amy looked confused, which was becoming a common expression on her face now that the conversation had turned firmly to impact play. “What else is there?”

  Layla pushed her bangs back from her eyes. “Relaxation. Trina told you that it can feel like a massage, and there’s this endorphin rush that takes you to a place where stress doesn’t exist.” She handed the whip to Amy. “Touch it. Brush it over your arms and legs.”

  Amy ran her hand down the length of the falls, and her eyes widened in surprise. “They’re soft.” She gazed at the flogger with wonder as she experimented with the sensations it caused on the insides of her wrists.

  Katrina thought about the way Keith liked to start off gently. When he flogged her, he varied the intensity so that she didn’t know what to expect next. He took her beyond the ability to think. If it weren’t for him, she didn’t think she’d be able to deal with the stress of having a fucking stalker.

  A tap on her arm brought her back to the present. “You okay?” Layla’s brow wrinkled with concern. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. Or is something else on your mind?”

  Katrina didn’t want to bring up that topic. “I want to do this. But I want to learn more than just the flogger. I want to learn to use the cane and the crop and—” Because she didn’t know the name of it, she broke off and pointed to a very thick-handled whip that tapered to almost nothing.

  Darcy, who had been hanging back while Layla took charge, laughed loudly. “You don’t waste time, do you?” She came forward and fingered the coiled length lovingly. “This is my absolute favorite thing in this room right now. But I will admit I don’t know how to use it. If you want training on that, you’ll have to buy one of your own, and you’ll have to ask Malcolm or Keith to train you.”

  “Hey! You’re assuming I don’t know how to use a single-tail.” Layla put her hands on her hips in a show of mock umbrage.

  Darcy shook her head, a small grin playing at the corners of her mouth. “I know you don’t.” She turned her attention back to Katrina. “Trina, this is one of those things you work your way up to. Scott practiced with a single-tail for almost a year and still didn’t feel comfortable using it on me, so he never did. Start with the flogger. Practice with that, and next week we’ll have a lesson with the canes. Those are fun.”

  Amy had stopped loving on the deerskin, and now she gaped at the canes. “They don’t look like fun. Don’t they cane people in Singapore for littering? People get scars and are permanently disfigured.”

  “Or massages.” Layla ran her hand over one of the thicker canes. “The thin ones sting, but the thicker ones can feel like deep-tissue massages. Very sexy—if you know what you’re doing.”

  “And those”—Amy pointed at the single-tail—“break open the skin. They used those in slave days for brutally mistreating people. People have died from injuries from those whips.”

  Darcy exhaled loudly, evidence that her patience was wearing thin. “Amy, nobody should use any of this equipment without training and lots of practice. Yes, it can be dangerous.
It can seriously hurt or injure a person. Why do you think Malcolm isn’t comfortable letting anyone else flog me? He knows Layla’s experienced, but he hasn’t seen her in action.”

  The situation was getting tense. Katrina exchanged a look with Layla, but her cousin only mouthed, Later, and moved to stand between Darcy and Amy. “How about we try it out? Let’s set the pillows up as a horizontal target first. Then you can practice vertical.”

  Katrina took the flogger Darcy handed her and followed Layla to the other side of the room. Her cousin explained the forward and backhand strokes, and then she showed them how to combine the moves for a figure eight. Katrina practiced on the pillow, watching the strike patterns in the suede fabric to make sure she was hitting where she was aiming. She found it easier to look at her target than to watch the falls trailing through the air, and she switched hands when her arm grew tired.

  Amy wasn’t having an easy go of it. She missed the pillow completely several times, and she’d accidentally hit her bare leg. Layla suggested jeans for the next practice session.

  “You’re good.” Darcy sat on what looked like a leather-clad sawhorse with wings. Now that she was on it, Katrina could see the bondage and sex options present in the design. “Really good. You have a natural talent.”

  Katrina shrugged, but inside she beamed under the light of the praise. “It must run in the family.”

  Darcy let loose a short laugh. “It must.” She nodded at her sister. Amy’s face was twisted with frustration. Layla stood behind her, trying to help correct her swing. “I’m just as bad as Amy. It took almost six months for me to be accurate enough to practice on a person. You’re ready today. Unfortunately you can’t use me.”

  “That’s okay. Learning a skill—any skill—takes time. I can be patient.”

  Holding out her hand for the flogger, Darcy smiled expectantly. “May I?”

  It was her whip. Katrina handed it over, sorry to see it go.