Spy

by Julia Sykes

  But that wasn’t an option now. Not with Lissa. Maybe sparring would help me, too.

  “Sure,” I agreed. “I’ll go easy on you.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you dare. I can handle myself.”

  I couldn’t stop myself from chuckling. She was cute when she got fierce.

  “Don’t laugh,” she scolded. “I can take you.”

  “I know you’re good,” I tried to placate her. “But I’ve trained for years.”

  I can kill a man with my bare hands. I kept that to myself. She didn’t need to know about that more unnerving aspect of my life.

  She tossed her flaxen hair and got to her feet. “I’ve been training since I was sixteen. Bring it.”

  She stepped in front of me and dropped into an aggressive stance, bringing her hands up to block her face, her forearms protecting her torso.

  I couldn’t resist. The Dominant in me reacted when she challenged me; the urge to subjugate her soft body was almost overwhelming.

  I took an experimental swing toward her stomach, controlling the punch so it would never quite land. She moved lighting-fast, twisting to the side and answering my blow with a sharp knock to my forearm, pushing my arm out away from my body.

  She was good, but I anticipated her next move.

  As she flowed forward, she used her momentum to swing my arm wide, getting in close to bring her knee up into my groin. Even though I knew she wouldn’t actually let the hit make contact, I wasn’t willing to let her get away with it.

  I angled my body to block her kick. All her weight now rested on one leg. I swept it out from under her with a light hit to her ankle.

  She fell with practiced grace, her body hitting the ground in the best way to minimize any bruising. I gave her the half-second she needed to find her feet again.

  When she stood to face me, her chest rose and fell in rapid pants. Her nipples were hard, straining against her thin camisole. The sight was almost distracting enough to make me lose the advantage I had over her.

  Her moment of lust gave me the opening I needed. My body collided with hers, and I pressed her up against the wall, pinning her wrists above her with one hand. The other cradled the back of her head, keeping it from hitting the wall.

  I had gotten too close. She thrust her hips up against my thigh, grinding against me. I could feel the heat of her pussy through her yoga pants. My dick instantly hardened, pressing into her belly. She moaned and rotated her hips again, seeking the stimulation her body so obviously craved. Although she’d proven she had the skill set to try to fight her way free, she was needy, pliant in my hold.

  She was the hottest fucking thing I’d ever seen.

  Keeping my grip on her wrists, I slid my free hand between us and gripped her roughly, pressing my palm against her clit. Even through her pants, I could feel how wet she was for me. She leaned up toward me with a desperate whine. Her body was on fire for me, and I couldn’t deny her. I rubbed her clit.

  “You want me to make you come.” I said it as a statement of fact. The heady sense of control that I loved settled over me, making me drunk. I craved her submission.

  “Yes,” she whimpered. “Please.”

  “Address me properly. Like I taught you.”

  “Please, Sir,” she said in a breathy little plea.

  “Good girl.”

  I dipped my hand into her pants, finding the wet heat at her core. I reveled in the silken feel of it against my fingers. Gathering some up, I swirled it around her clit. She mewled and tugged against my hold on her, desperate to be closer to me.

  I tightened my grip. “No. I control this.” I tweaked her clit, and she gasped. My cock twitched against her. I mastered my need. “Your pussy is mine. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Sir.” Her eyes darkened with desire, but she stilled beneath me.

  “Tell me.”

  She flushed pink. The color suited her.

  So fucking innocent. And all mine.

  “My pussy is yours, Sir.”

  I growled my approval and pushed two fingers into her slick entrance. Her inner muscles gripped me greedily, hungry for my touch. Masculine satisfaction flooded my mind, making me high on the control I wielded over her.

  I found the sensitive spot inside her with practiced ease, rubbing in a firm, demanding rhythm. At the same time, my thumb pressed down on her clit.

  “Come for me, little sub.”

  “Ian!” She screamed out my name as she shuddered in my arms. Something strange squeezed in my chest. It was more than the high I found in dominating a sweet submissive. It was a sensation I’d all but forgotten, one I’d tried to make myself forget. Because the feeling was accompanied by a soul-deep agony that was triggered by the memory of the last time I’d experienced it.

  Marie.

  Anguish flooded me, and nausea curled in my gut. It took all my determination not to jerk away from Lissa in disgust. Not with her, but with myself.

  I couldn’t bring myself to hurt her again. I would hold her, give her the aftercare she needed. It wasn’t her fault that I’d lost all control.

  Fuck. The intoxicating high I attained from my control over her crumbled, twisting into something that made my stomach turn. I hadn’t been in control of myself at all. The realization was sickening.

  “Ian?” she breathed my name, her voice wavering slightly.

  I quickly smoothed my expression to a blank mask. It was the best I could manage. Without a word, I scooped her up into my arms and carried her to the bed. I sat back against the headboard and held her in my lap, running my fingers through her hair.

  I told myself I was doing it for her, but it felt so damn good. For the first time in years, I didn’t feel horribly, starkly alone. It shook me to my core, but I couldn’t seem to stop touching her.

  Her soft fingertips stroked my cheek. “Are you okay?”

  She was far kinder than I deserved. After everything I’d done to her, she still wanted to help me. Her emerald eyes shone with compassion.

  “No,” I answered, distantly stunned at my honesty. “But it’s not your fault.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No.” I couldn’t tell her about Marie. It was too painful to revisit the memories by admitting my sins aloud. And the horror that would twist Lissa’s sweet features would be too terrible to bear.

  “Okay,” she said quietly. “That’s okay.”

  I heaved in a deep breath. “Thank you.”

  “You can talk to me when you’re ready. I’m here for you. You can trust me.”

  I didn’t have anything to say to that. There could never be trust between us if I couldn’t trust myself around her. And that meant I could never be a responsible Dom to her. I wasn’t worthy of her.

  I gently set her down beside me and stood, putting distance between us.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” I informed her, my voice tight.

  A very cold shower. Despite everything, my dick still ached for her.

  She nodded, and I was relieved that her features were soft with kind understanding rather than creased with hurt. At least I had given her what she needed.

  I would simply have to ignore my own needs. Even if it killed me.

  * * * * *

  “Great post, brother.” Terry regarded me with genuine pride. “I have to admit, I thought your Master/slave stuff was some weird shit when you first told us about it, but I definitely understand the appeal now.”

  “Ernest helped me write it,” I directed some of the praise toward the youngest member of the brotherhood, giving him more of the approval he craved. He beamed at me. I had him firmly under my thumb. Now I just needed to get the others on my side. I would have to use Lissa to do that. She was the key to gaining their trust.

  Guilt lashed at my chest.

  I don’t have a choice.

  “I’m glad you’re interested,” I continued, directing my words at Terry. “It’s always nice to meet kindred spirits.”

&
nbsp; He stroked his bushy blond mustache, nodding. “I think I do want one of my own. When can we go to that club?”

  “Soon,” I promised. “We should talk about the lifestyle more, though. If the club owners think you’re being too harsh with the women, they’ll kick you out. You have to handle the situation carefully, lure them in. Once they agree to meet you in a private setting, you can start training them properly.”

  “I think we’d understand better if you showed us.” Burt’s beady eyes glinted. He was testing me again. “Bring your slave to the next meeting. I want to see how she behaves around you.”

  I clenched my jaw for a fraction of a second. Burt’s lips twitched.

  “I don’t know if that will work,” I hedged. “You abducted her. She’s scared of you. If I force her to come, she’ll resent me. I need to keep her happy.”

  Terry crossed his arms over his chest, closing himself off from me. “It sounds like you allow her too much free choice. I thought she wasn’t allowed her own opinions.”

  Shit.

  “I do allow her to choose,” I asserted as coolly as I could manage. “And she chooses to be my slave. Manipulating her into willingly giving up her freedom is half the fun. That’s true control over her; I own her, body and mind.”

  “Then I’m sure you can manipulate her into coming to a meeting,” Burt replied, just as coolly.

  I was backed into a corner. If I refused, they would never trust me. I had to learn about the weapons they were hiding from me.

  “Give me a week,” I requested. “I’ll need some time to make her agree of her own free will. She’ll be much better behaved if she chooses to come rather than if I drag her here.”

  “And how do you know she’ll obey you?” Terry challenged, still skeptical.

  I fixed him with a level stare. “I’m her Master. She will obey.”

  He considered me for a moment longer, then let his arms fall to his sides, dropping his distant stance.

  “Good. I look forward to seeing more of her.”

  My stomach knotted.

  You’re a fucking bastard, Holmes.

  Maybe I could end this before I had to bring her to them.

  “Wait a minute,” Robby interjected. “I don’t want her at our meetings. She might go to the cops if she hears our plans.”

  “She won’t,” I asserted quickly. I couldn’t let them shut me out. “She’s completely loyal to me. She knows how I think, what I’m doing here. As I said, she doesn’t have to right to an opinion on the matter.”

  Leonard raised a questioning brow. “You’ve told her about our plans?”

  “She knows why I brought her with me to Chicago, but I have no reason to discuss anything with her. She isn’t allowed to speak without my express permission, so she doesn’t ask questions. That being said,” I turned my attention back to Ernest, exploiting the brotherhood’s weak link, “I don’t really know the plan yet, so I have nothing to tell her anyway.”

  “We’re going to hit Sears Tower,” he said excitedly.

  “Ernest,” Burt warned sharply.

  “Oh, come on,” the kid whined. “He needs to know sooner or later.” He looked to Terry, imploring.

  His uncle nodded in agreement and turned his dark green eyes back to me. “Those godless bastards have given us the weapons we need to take out everyone in the building.”

  I contorted my face into an expression of keen interest. “What kind of weapons?”

  “It’s so badass,” Ernest gushed. He looked to Terry again. “Can I show him?”

  “All right,” Terry allowed with an imperious flick of his fingers. “Go on.”

  “Sweet.” Ernest grinned at me. “It’s in the storage shed.”

  I ducked my head at Terry in silent gratitude before following Ernest up the basement stairs and out the back door. The shed smelled of damp and was lit only by a spare bulb. It was too small to contain more than a lawn mower and a large wooden crate, much less fit two grown men inside.

  Still, I had a good view of the crate. My anger flared when Ernest hefted a coil of rope off the lid so he could open it. It was the same rope they’d used to restrain Lissa while they threatened her life.

  Ernest lifted the lid, and my anger gave way to fear.

  A warhead lay nestled in a mound of sawdust. The combination of black letters and numbers painted onto the hunter green metal casing meant nothing to me, but I recognized their origin.

  “Is that Russian?” I asked, feigning ignorance.

  Ernest smirked. “Yep. The fuckers don’t realize it’ll come back to bite them in the ass. When the U.S. government finds out the Russians supplied us with the weapons, they’ll retaliate. They’ll blow those heretics off the face of the Earth.”

  I didn’t point out that it didn’t make any sense that the Russians were “heretics.” I supposed Salvation based that opinion on the fact that they practiced Christianity differently. Apparently worshipping the same God didn’t matter, if they were doing it wrong.

  “What does it do?” I asked, concealing the dread that churned in my gut.

  “It’s some kind of chemical,” Ernest said with fanatical fervor. “Once we set it off, it’ll kill the sinners within minutes. They’ll learn the consequences for their transgressions against God.”

  Bile burned the back of my throat. I knew Russia still hadn’t disabled forty percent of its Cold War era chemical weapons. This could easily be government issued. And just as lethal as Ernest claimed.

  I tried to remind myself that this was a good thing. Now that I knew what we were facing, I could come up with a plan to stop them. I just needed to stay close enough now that I could get a lock on Salvation’s Russian contacts. Letting them slip away only to plan another attack in the future wasn’t an option.

  I had finally earned the brotherhood’s trust. All it had cost was Lissa’s safety.

  Chapter 5

  Lissa

  Ian paused in the doorway, his tanned face several shades paler than usual.

  “What’s wrong?” I immediately stood so I could go to him. He held up a hand, signaling me to keep my distance.

  “Sit down.” It was a harsh command.

  Wrestling down the urge to wrap my arms around him, I obeyed. “Did something happen with Salvation?”

  His jaw set in a hard line. “I won’t talk to you about the op. Stop asking about it.”

  I flinched as his anger slapped up against me like a palpable force. “I was just worried about you,” I said¸ my voice small. “I’m sorry.”

  He hissed out a breath through his clenched teeth. “Don’t apologize to me.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said again, reflexively. It was a natural response. I ached to soothe him.

  He jerked a hand through his hair. “No. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

  He lingered in the doorway, keeping a gaping chasm between us. I wanted to cross it, but I sensed he would snap if I pushed him.

  “What do you have to be sorry for?” I asked calmly. He obviously felt he had done something wrong. If he was thinking about how he had touched me that morning, I wouldn’t accept an apology. It had been one of the hottest encounters of my life, and I wouldn’t stand for him to mar the memory of it with his regret.

  He drew in a deep, shaky breath, visibly calming himself. He blinked, and when his sapphire eyes found mine again, they were steely with determination rather than wild with anguish.

  “I’ve used you to get Salvation to accept me into their brotherhood. I told them you’re my slave, and that I’ll teach them how to train women to keep for themselves.”

  My brow creased. “I know. That’s how you convinced them to let me go. They would have killed me if you hadn’t pretended to be my Master. You saved me.”

  His muscles flexed. “I didn’t save you. I’ve brought you to their attention, and now they want to see more. I’ve told them I’ll bring you to a meeting.”

  Fear fluttered in my chest. “What?” I didn’t want to be a
nywhere near those men ever again.

  His features tightened further. “I needed them to trust me. It was the only way. And now I’ve put you at risk. I’m sorry.”

  I swallowed down my rising panic. There must be a good reason for this. Ian wouldn’t have done this to me unless he really didn’t have another choice.

  “Will this help with your mission?”

  He nodded grimly. “Yes. If I can get them to tell me more about their plan, we’ll save thousands of lives.”

  I heaved in a breath. “Okay. Then I want to help.” Certainty settled over me. I needed to be part of this, and Ian would protect me. “I know you’ll keep me safe. Besides,” I added, “so long as they don’t hit me with that Taser again, I can defend myself.”

  He studied me carefully. “I know you’re brave, but it’s okay to be scared.”

  I shrugged, trying my best for nonchalance. “I’m all right.”

  His countenance hardened. “Don’t lie to me. If I’m going to take you into the field, I need absolute honesty. I have to be able to trust you. Otherwise, we’re both dead.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not going to let my fear cost lives. I can handle it.” I didn’t pause to give him the chance to argue with me. “What do you need me to do?”

  The line of his jaw ticked as he ground his teeth. He obviously wasn’t happy with the situation, and somehow my easy agreement was making it worse.

  “I trust you to protect me, Ian,” I said, more gently. “I need you to trust me, too. I can do this. Tell me what you need from me, and I’ll do it.”

  He stared at me for a long moment before finally speaking. “I’ve asked them to give me a week to convince you to come to a meeting. If I can’t wrap up the op before then, I’ll have to take you in with me. You’ll have to act like my slave. We’ll have to make them believe it. That means we need to practice.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “Practice?”

  His chin jerked in a sharp nod. “For the next few days, I’m going to be your Master. You will act as my slave. I’ll teach you how to behave. The anarchists can’t suspect I’ve been lying to them. If they find out I have, I don’t know what they’ll do to you.”