Black Light: Rescued

by Livia Grant

  Maybe then I'll be able to turn on my car without wondering if that was the day I'd go boom.

  He knew Khloe was against going downstairs. She'd extended their joint shower by slipping to her knees and sucking his rod down her throat like a Goddamn pro. He both loved and hated how she had the power to weaken his resolve. The second the tip of his shaft jammed against the back of her throat, he'd lost all willpower to slow things down and save it for Black Light.

  Even now, she was still in the bathroom primping, applying her dozens of creams to the hairline wrinkles around her eyes.

  As if to prove to himself that he could control his own emotions, he reached for his encrypted phone, turning it on for the first time in two days. He'd allowed the police to come and ask them questions that first twenty-four hours, but then they'd both gone dark, shutting the rest of the world out as they'd hidden in Davidson's safe house.

  His tension level grew with each ding of his phone, announcing he had over a half-dozen voicemail messages. Then the texts started arriving. He forced himself to read and listen to them all.

  There were updates from Axel. Requests for more meeting time from the D.C. police. But the majority were escalating messages from his boss, Webster. They'd started arriving two days ago with:

  Call me right away. Have classified info you'll want.

  Yeah, well unless it's that the Volkovs are dead, Ryder highly doubted that. The next one was even more demanding.

  Dammit Helms, Chip Marshall has been trying to speak with you since you landed back on American soil. He's getting pissed at your absence. Call in.

  Hadn't he done enough for the Marshall family? Why the fuck should he waste even a minute of his limited time with Khloe talking to a guy who probably wanted to say thank you for doing his job.

  He then listened to a voicemail his boss had left a few hours before.

  I know I told you to take some time off, but you've never gone dark on me. Trust me when I say that you'll want to check-in ASAP. That's an order, soldier.

  The message was out of character for Brandon Webster. A CIA lifer, he knew his boss had honed his normally calm demeanor by living through some pretty fucked up missions before taking his desk job. Ryder had always appreciated the unemotional evenness his superior displayed, even in the most stressful situations. Hearing the frustration in Brandon's voice put Ryder on edge.

  He was about to ring the older man when Khloe emerged from the bathroom looking stunning in skimpy black baby-doll lingerie with a matching see-through pair of panties that barely covered her pussy and left her ass cheeks completely exposed. All thoughts of calling Webster flew out of his head. Work could fucking wait until Khloe left the next day.

  Ryder's mouth went dry as he was temporarily stunned into silence, watching as she gracefully sashayed across the room towards him. The closer she got, the wider the sexy smile spread on her gorgeous face. When she was close enough to touch him, she had the audacity to reach out, lifting her finger to his chin. Only as she pressed up did he realize he'd been gawking at her with his mouth gaping open.

  "See something you like?" she teased.

  He had to clear his throat. "Em... fuck... You're perfect."

  Her smile doused a bit. "Hardly. I weighed myself. I hope you're happy. I've gained four damn pounds."

  "Hell yes, I'm happy." He pulled her into his arms, loving every single inch of her still too-thin body. "That's still six pounds too few. Remember what I told you. If you aren't at least six pounds heavier the next time I see you, you aren't going to be able to sit on this lovely ass of yours for weeks." She tried to wiggle away from him, but he held her tight, thrusting his left hand into her long damp hair and yanking her head back. He towered over her until their faces were only inches apart.

  "I'm not joking, Princess. You are going to eat right and start getting plenty of sleep. I'm going to have McLean keep a log for me so I can check up on your progress."

  "That's not fair! He works for me, not you. And why does he get to communicate with you and I don't?" Her pout was adorable, but he sure as hell wouldn't tell her that.

  "McLean works for us. I'm giving him a way to get in touch with me for emergencies only. So imagine how much trouble you'll be in if he has to relay that you're losing weight again."

  She opened her mouth as if to argue, but closed it again, wisely reconsidering. Ryder went in to capture those pouting lips in an open mouth kiss that had his woman melting like a candle in his arms. He kissed her rebellion right out of her, leaving a contrite submissive in his arms when he pulled out of their lip-lock.

  Ryder reached into the pocket of his slacks to pull out the same thin black choker she'd worn to Black Light the week before. He loved how her eyes softened as he wrapped the heavy jewelry around her neck. The submissive bow of her head fed his dominance, flaming his need for her.

  He leaned down to grab the plush terrycloth robe he'd thrown over the back of the nearby loveseat. He held it out for her to press her arms into as he warned, "We need to get the hell out of here or I'm not going to be able to stop myself from ripping that tiny scrap of fabric off your body and fucking you from behind as I splay you out across the back of this chair."

  Her giggle only made his already hard cock turn to stone. Anyone watching would never know they'd had sex over a dozen times in the last two days. He put his arm around her thin waist and pulled her against his body as he moved them towards the foyer. Ryder used the electronic keycard Davidson had programed for him to call the elevator.

  The trip downstairs was uneventful. The Wednesday night crowd at Runway was thin and the dance music was playing much lower than on a weekend. There was no line waiting to check in with Danny in the locker room, assuring them that Black Light's attendance was down as well. After stuffing her robe in their locker, Ryder attached the jeweled chain to her collar.

  He stopped to tweak her nipple through the sheer material. "Be a good girl now."

  "Yes, sir," she purred, falling into her submissive role with ease.

  A smattering of members was dispersed throughout the dimly lit club. Having been holed up for several days, Ryder pulled Khloe along behind him using the jeweled chain as a leash as he headed towards the neon-lit bar. He could use a stiff drink and looked forward to consuming his two-drink limit. He hoped it would dull the growing unease of their coming farewell.

  His friend and former military buddy, Spencer Cook, sat at the bar talking to his own submissive, Klara, who also happened to be the head bartender at Black Light. Klara faced the room and greeted them as they approached the bar.

  "I was wondering if we'd get to see you two tonight." She smiled a warm welcome. "Would you like your usual, Mr. Helms?"

  "Yep, and make it a double out of the gate. I'll take a fruit juice for Khloe."

  "Yes, sir." She turned to collect the gold label Irish Whiskey from the glass shelf.

  He was aware that Doms often had their submissives kneel at their feet while at the bar, but Ryder didn't want to waste a single minute of touching Khloe while she was within his grasp. When she moved to kneel behind him, he motioned for her to instead squeeze in between his bar stool and the bar.

  "Sit your ass on the foot rail, baby. My cock could use a little attention while I have a drink with Spencer."

  Khloe Monroe had just finished sucking him off in the shower less than an hour before, which made her blushing embarrassment at being asked to give him a blowjob while he visited with his old buddy that much more adorable. After she was tucked away, her back against the bar and her head slightly bowed to keep from banging her head, Ryder spread his legs to give her the access she'd need.

  Tentative fingers worked his belt buckle before unbuttoning his slacks and lowering his zipper. His hard shaft sprang out, anxious to be free of its fabric confines. Instead of swallowing him as she'd done in the shower, the little minx stuck her tongue out instead, lightly licking only the tip as if she were enjoying a lollipop. Ryder closed his eyes, enjoyin
g the slow seduction of his submissive with a tortured groan.

  "Holy shit, you have it bad, buddy."

  Ryder forced his eyes open to throw his old pal a dirty glare. "Shut the fuck up. You're just jealous." Still, he couldn't stop himself from stroking Khloe's silky hair as she continued her tentative exploration under the bar.

  "What the hell do I have to be jealous of? I can get it time I want," his friend bragged.

  Spencer's assertion coincided with Klara's return. She placed a Black Light cocktail napkin on the glassy surface in front of Ryder before setting down his drink.

  Only after she'd delivered the cocktail to her customer did she pin her boyfriend and Dom with a sassy glare. "Feeling a little overconfident there, sport, aren't you?"

  "Excuse me? Are you aching to have your ass whipped tonight, little girl?" the dungeon master threatened.

  Klara grinned confidently. "Promises, promises. You know we don't play while I'm working. Strictly professional. Boss and employee and all that."

  "It's a quiet night. I think we're overstaffed."

  "Had Adele shown up, maybe, but she called in sick. I'm working solo tonight."

  Spencer grumbled, "Lucky for you then. You get a few hours reprieve, but your ass is mine the second you're off the clock."

  Klara leaned across the bar to flame the fire with her Dom. "You mean like every other night? I'll look forward to it."

  A loud disturbance near the entrance interrupted the dungeon master's flirtation. Spencer downed the last swallow of his own cocktail before pushing to his feet and addressing Ryder. "I'll leave you here to enjoy your drink and suck off while I go see what the commotion is about. Try not to shoot cum on the bar. It's a bitch to get off when it dries."

  Ryder didn't bother replying. He was too busy enjoying Khloe's intensifying attention. She had a talented tongue and was presently putting it to very good use. He closed his eyes, loving how his submissive bobbed her head up and down, taking a bit more of his thick dick into her throat with each thrust. She'd wrapped her hand around the base of his cock, acting like a constricting cock-ring. While the pressure was nice, feeling the end of his erection slamming into the back of her throat would be even better.

  "Hands behind your back. Use your tongue and throat only."

  Khloe obeyed, releasing his cock to fling her arms back as he gripped her hair, yanking her forward, and stuffing his thick shaft deep down her throat until she gagged. The gurgling sound was an aphrodisiac to the dominant.

  Ryder lost himself to the glorious sensations, tuning out the sounds of the club around them until it was only him and his submissive, connected in the most intimate of ways.

  He was so zoned out, he almost missed Jaxson's voice talking behind him. "I thought they might be wrapping this up soon, but it looks like the old man is having some problems getting off."

  It took a minute to register that the club owner was talking about him. Ryder was so close, he didn't want to break his concentration. He could tell his submissive was tiring as he needed to stop to allow her to gasp in air frequently. He opened his eyes, looking down on his princess. His heart swelled with affection as he took in her watering eyes, the excessive drool that seeped from her mouth, stretched wide to accommodate his flesh.

  She's never looked more beautiful.

  The visual perfection pushed him into his climax. The sadist in him loved watching his sub struggle to swallow his spurting jizz. When she pulled away to gasp for a breath, his last squirt shot hot spunk onto her heaving cleavage.

  He adored the proud smirk that played on her face as she licked her lips clean. Ryder couldn't resist reaching out to scoop the glob of cum onto his finger, raising it to her mouth and demanding, "Open up, baby. You haven't finished yet."

  She was in the process of sucking his finger clean when McLean's voice totally broke the mood.

  "So this explains a lot."

  Ryder hated the embarrassment that filled his lover's eyes as she leaned into him again, this time to bury her face in his lap, not to suck his cock, but to simply avoid looking at her bodyguard and friend.

  He stroked her hair, trying to calm Khloe while getting to the bottom of exactly why a non-member was currently standing at the bar of Black Light. As he looked up into the mirrored wall supporting the shelves of liquors, he saw that Trevor was not alone. He was flanked by Davidson, Cartwright and their sub, Emma.

  "I didn't know we were going to have a party here tonight. We'd have waited to get started if we'd known you were coming."

  Jaxson stepped up next to him, leaning in to talk softly. "It seems your boss has been trying desperately to get ahold of you."

  Ryder's tension level skyrocketed. How the hell would Davidson know that?

  "I'm on paid leave. I'll call him tomorrow after Khloe's departure."

  Trevor stepped up close on his other side. "I really think you should take the call now."

  Ryder turned to take a better look at Khloe's bodyguard. "How did you get in here? You're not a member."

  "I called Jaxson and told him it was an emergency."

  "What's the emergency? There's no fucking way my boss called you."

  "No, he didn't." Trevor hesitated before adding softly, "But he did call Axe."

  Now that, Ryder believed. Webster knew Axe's history. He'd authorized contractor's access for Axel to the intel they'd needed to investigate not only the stalker case, but more importantly, the few leads he'd gotten over the years on Mia's disappearance.

  Before Ryder could ask another question, McLean reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out the encrypted phone Ryder had given him to communicate during the stalker investigation. He shoved the phone at Ryder. "Webster is waiting for your call."

  "Now? It's ten o'clock at night. He can wait..."

  "For Christ's sake. I didn't go to all this trouble to come down here and watch my boss give you a blowjob. Fucking make the call."

  Khloe had wrapped her arms around his waist and was hugging him with all her might. He made out what sounded like a distressed sob as her body started to vibrate against his.

  Ryder pushed the phone out of the way to pull on her shoulders. "Hey, that's enough crying down there. I'm sure everything is fine. Come on up here."

  He could barely make out her mumbled, "No,"

  "Khloe. Now."

  The second she was on her feet Ryder scooped her up into his arms and headed to a nearby open couch. As he passed Davidson, he grumbled. "Since when do you allow phones in Black Light, anyway?"

  Jaxson pinned him with a serious glare. "Since it seems there is a matter of national security on the line."

  Ryder sank into the leather, pulling Khloe into his lap before reaching out to snatch the phone that McLean was holding out to him. He didn't mind her burrowing into the crook of his neck to avoid making eye contact with her friend and bodyguard. Her scent helped calm his own racing heart.

  Something big had to be going down to get this kind of attention from Brandon Webster.

  He knew the number by heart. It was a requirement of his job to memorize certain phone numbers in case he had to destroy a phone that had been compromised. He often had to move to a new burner cell when things got intense.

  Brandon Webster answered on the first ring. "You sonofabitch. Do you have any idea how much time I've wasted tracking you down?"

  "Nice to hear your voice too, sir." Ryder forced a calmness into his tone that he didn't feel.

  "Don't you dare hang up on me until I'm finished briefing you. Chip Marshall has turned into a major pain in my ass. Almost as big of a pain as you're turning out to be."

  "Excuse me? I don't know why the hell we're even talking about Marshall. He's a civilian. I did my job. What the fuck does he have to do with anything?"

  "You haven't done any research on him, have you?" The way his boss asked the question made Ryder feel like a dumbass for not having thought to do so himself.

  "I've been a bit busy. Why don't you fill me
in on the millionaire?"

  "Chip Marshall is no millionaire. He is a fucking billionaire. He made his first millions in oil, but his biggest income these days comes from manufacturing."

  "This is all very riveting, but..."

  "Weapons manufacturing. Cutting-edge, experimental, secretive weapons to be more precise."

  That shut Ryder up.

  "Where do you think all of the shipments of the SVK semi-automatics suddenly appeared from when you needed them in a hurry?"

  Webster paused. Ryder got the impression his boss was choosing his words carefully as he continued the briefing. "Marshall is a friend of our family, if you know what I mean. To say that he was furious to have his wife and young daughters put into danger would be a massive understatement. I can't even begin to express to you the depths of his gratitude towards you for risking your life and years of undercover work to save his family."

  Ryder turned Brandon's words around in his brain, listening for the unspoken message his boss was relaying between the lines.

  "Are you saying he's a man of action?" Ryder probed cautiously, trying not to let the inkling of hope in his gut lay down roots just yet.

  "That's exactly what I'm saying. He has many influential business partners and those partners were able to finish the job that you started."

  Ryder's heart hammered so hard, he felt his pulse pounding against his eardrums. Could it be true?

  "I don't believe it. Are you telling me it was a sanctioned mission?"

  "Hell no. I'm telling you that Marshall is a big enough fish that he doesn't give shit about being sanctioned or not. He went off the reservation on this one."

  "So why are you the one telling me?"

  "Because you won't get your head out of your ass and answer his fucking phone calls. You've turned me into a God-damned message boy and I don't like it."

  Ryder didn't give a shit about his boss's aggravation. He was too busy trying to contain his sprouting hope that he was interpreting the message correctly.