“No need. Bullard was already planning your murder. Since the books were neither in the office nor Moretti’s house, he figured you had taken them. Torching your house gave him a twofer. Destroying the books and getting rid of you. Except it didn’t work.”
“When did you tag her car?” Simon asked.
“When we saw her in the garage, we knew Moretti’s murder was about to become front page news. And we knew that she was about to become embroiled in a shit storm of epic proportions. And if she felt threatened, she might bolt, so we circled around the block and tagged her car. Good thing we did, too. When the Fire Marshall’s report indicated that there were no bodies present in the ruins, Bullard called for two of his investigators to search for you, ostensibly to bring you in for further questioning. But we knew that once he got his hands on you, you were as good as dead. So we volunteered.” Thomas Dwyer leaned forward, spearing her with his gaze. “Make no mistake, Ms. Ferrell. These people are ruthless. They will stop at nothing to find those books and keep their contents from going public.”
Kylie folded her arms across her chest in a last-ditch effort to maintain a distance from these two stony-faced men and the horror they were bringing into her life. “Yeah, I sorta got that impression when my house blew up.”
At least Thomas Dwyer had the good manners to look sympathetic. “We know. We knew you were in danger, and were planning to come pick you up and take you to an FBI safe house on Sunday morning. Possibly put you in Witness Protection. The bombing took us by surprise, to say the least. I mean how quickly it happened.”
“Me, too. So, what’s being done to keep me safe?”
“We’d like the answer to that as well,” Ash said, a slight hint of menace in his voice. “She’s safe as long as she’s with us, but she can’t live with this hangin’ over her head for the rest of her life. What’s bein’ done to take these people down?”
“We almost have enough evidence for the U.S. Attorney General to prosecute under the RICO statute. But there’s still some wiggle room and their lawyers are very, very good. So, Ms. Ferrell.” One eyebrow hiked and Dwyer leveled a stern glance at her. “The ball is in your court. Do you have those books or don’t you?”
“No.” she answered truthfully. “I don’t.”
“Well.” Dwyer slapped his hands on top of his thighs and started to stand up. The man sitting next to him followed suit. “Then I guess we’ve come a long way for nothing.”
‘But I think I know where they are.”
Both men froze. Caleb, Ash, and Simon turned their heads to look at Kylie in astonishment. Then Simon’s phone lit up and he looked down to read the message that had just come in.
“Don’t tell them, Kylie,” Caleb warned. “The minute you tell them, you’re dead.”
“She’s dead if she doesn’t tell us,” Dwyer snapped. “They’ll kill her no matter what. The only thing that’s going to keep her alive is if we get those books before they do and take them to the Attorney General.”
Caleb and Ash both took her hands into one of theirs. “It’s up to you, baby,” Ash said, lifting her hand to his lips. “You know you’ll be safe here.”
Kylie took a deep breath and blew it out noisily. “One day I went into Mr. Moretti’s office without knocking. He was on his hands and knees, backing out from under his desk. As soon as he saw me standing there, he yelled at me to get the fuck out. And if I ever entered his office again without knocking first, I’d be fired. Needless to say, I skedaddled the hell out of there.”
Roscoe Sweeney looked skeptical. “You think there’s a hidden compartment under the floor?”
“I don’t know.” She bit her lip. “Maybe there’s a hidden compartment at the back of the kneehole. It’s a really big desk. A space five or six inches deep wouldn’t be obvious. The books could be standing on end instead of lying flat. They’d take up a lot less room that way.”
Sweeney and Dwyer exchanged glances. Then they both seemed to relax.
“Ms. Ferrell, I’d hug you, but I don’t think your men would allow it.”
“You got that right,” Ash said.
Simon raised his eyes from his phone and looked at the two agents. “That was our buddy, Jason on the phone. I had him check you out. Looks like you guys are who you say you are.”
Dwyer’s expression didn’t change, but a definite “I told you so” was implied.
“Sorry,” Caleb muttered. He stood up, along with his brothers, and extended his hand toward the two FBI agents. “Sorry for the less than hospitable reception. But, under the circumstances, I’m sure you understand our suspicions.”
“Of course. If our positions were reversed, you would have gotten the same treatment.”
There were handshakes all around. Dwyer looked at Caleb. “You got a safe phone number we can call when we find out if the books are there or not?” Caleb gave the number to Roscoe Sweeney, who entered it into his phone. Dwyer turned back to Kylie. “Thank you, Ms. Ferrell. We’re driving back to Philly tonight. We need to get to Moretti’s office before the crime scene tape is taken down and everything’s moved out. I’m afraid you won’t be completely safe until we turn those books over to the U.S. Attorney General and all the perps are rounded up. That may be another two or three days.”
“She’ll be here with us,” Caleb assured him. He put his arm around Kylie and squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll keep her safe.”
Thomas Dwyer’s lips curled upward and Kylie couldn’t help herself. “So you do know how to smile!”
Everybody laughed and the two agents turned to leave. Kylie watched another round of handshakes and “Thank you’s” at the door. The agents retrieved their weapons, shoved them into holsters, and said good-bye, promising to call
Caleb closed the door after them and set the alarm. “I’ll arm the perimeter alarms as soon as they’ve cleared the premises.”
Perimeter alarms? Holy shit!
They returned to the living room. Ash and Simon sat on the sofa on either side of Kylie while Caleb took the chair just vacated by Roscoe Sweeney. Simon took her hand between both of his. “You doin’ okay, darlin’?”
“Yeah. I am. I’m actually relieved. After the arrests are made, I’ll be free.”
Ash took her other hand. “Free to do what, baby?”
Uh-oh. How do they expect me to answer that? “Umm.” Three pairs of eyes were focused on her as if she were the only thing in an otherwise barren world. What could she possibly say? She knew what she wanted to do, of course. Stay in this place and let herself be loved by these three stalwart men. They would protect her. Cherish her. Perhaps even come to love her. But what if they didn’t actually love her. Could she live without it? Would fantastic sex be an acceptable trade-off? And for how long?
And what about her? Did she love them? If her racing heartbeat or the arousal flooding her pussy or the soul-deep connection she felt to all three of them were any indication, she did. Whenever they touched her. Whenever they kissed her. Whenever they spoke to her in those deep baritone voices. Whether they were as smooth as velvet or as rough as a lion’s purr, it didn’t matter. They called to her parched soul on a visceral level, filling her up with a peace unlike anything she had ever known. She recognized that even though she supposedly had all the power, the power they had over her, body, mind, and spirit, was absolute. She needed what they gave her with a need so fierce that if they ever withdrew that from her, she feared it would leave her hollowed out and empty. It was a scary thought.
But going back to Philly was equally scary. Her job was gone. Her boss was dead and she was still in danger of meeting a similar fate. Her home was gone, incinerated by a bomb blast meant to take her life. She had no friends to speak of. She was already better friends with Leah and Sarah than she was with anyone back in Philly. All she had, really, was the Goodmans. And between Skype, emails, texts, phone calls and visits back and forth, she’d probably see them more often living here than she had over the last four years living there.
/>
“Umm is not an answer,” Caleb said. “What would you like to do?
A blush spread across her chest and up her neck, heating her cheeks. “I would like to stay here. If you’ll have me.”
Ash’s grin was wicked. “Oh, baby, we’ll have you, all right. Over and over, in every way humanly possible.”
Her blush deepened. Her shoulders hunched. She pulled her hands out of theirs and thrust them between her legs, sandwiching them between her thighs. She was so aroused she knew when she stood up she’d leave a wet spot on the leather seat. “It’s just…I don’t know, I’m just…scared, I guess.”
“Of us?” Caleb asked, shocked. “Do you think we would harm you?”
“No, no, of course not. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you would never harm me.” She gnawed on her lower lip as she assembled her thoughts. “But what if I can’t give you what you want? I guess I’m just scared that you’ll just take me over and control every aspect of my existence. My father did that for sixteen years, and I don’t ever want to be in that position again.”
Caleb rose from the chair and moved to the big leather ottoman, so close his knees touched hers. “Did you give him your permission to control you?” he asked.
“Of course not. He was my father. His word was law, which the daily beatings simply reinforced.”
“What your father did to you was abuse, pure and simple. He controlled you to grind you down and keep you in your place. Is that what you think we want from you? Forced obedience?”
“No. I know that isn’t what you want.”
“We want to control you to give you pleasure. It’s as simple as that. Now, we’ve given you three safe words. Tell me what they are and when you use them.”
“Green is for when everything’s good. Yellow is if I need you to slow down. Red is for when I’m feeling overwhelmed and need you to stop and explain things.”
Caleb nodded. “And where are you right now?”
“Green.”
“Excellent.” He stared at her, his gaze suddenly dark, dominant. Dangerous. “Pull the skirt of your dress out from under you.”
Oh, my God! That voice! Where had that come from? It was low, deep, sandpaper rough, and almost unrecognizable. Her belly flip-flopped and more moisture seeped out into her already soaked panties. He was regarding her steadily with eyes that held no kindness, no reassurance, no uncertainty. Nor were any of those things in his voice. He merely waited for her to comply as if the notion that she would choose not to do so simply did not cross his mind.
“You want my bare ass on the sofa?”
One eyebrow quirked. “Did I stutter?”
“No. Sir, I just—”Oh, my God, did I just call him Sir? Seriously? Hastily, rocking her hips back and forth, she pulled her skirt out from under her butt cheeks. The leather felt smooth and cool against her bare skin.
“Now bunch it up around your waist and spread your legs. We want to see our pussy.”
Biting her lip, her eyes never leaving his, she squirmed slightly, but did exactly as he instructed.
He held out his hand, palm up. “Give me your wrists.”
Pressing her inner wrists together, she extended her arms and placed them in his hand. His long, lean fingers closed around her wrists, holding them loosely, possessing her utterly with just the touch of his hand. Heat uncoiled inside her, traveling straight to her nipples, her pussy, as if he were touching her there also. Her heart was beating so hard, her entire body seemed to sway slightly with every thud.
She blinked up at him, the approval in his eyes warming her to her toes. She felt as if she were teetering on the edge of a very sharp sword.
“Now. Did I force you to do any of those things?” he asked, his voice so quiet she had to strain to hear it.
“No. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that I actually wanted to do them.”
His lips quirked. “Then why did you do them?”
He’s got you there. A sheepish expression crossed her face.
He just smiled. “Your responses to my commands were the responses of a true submissive. You may think you didn’t want to do them, but your body told me otherwise.”
She just stared at him, flummoxed. “How?”
He tapped his finger against her wrist. “Your pulse is racing a mile a minute. Your skin is flushed a lovely shade of pink. Your pupils are so enlarged, your eyes appear to be black. Your little squirms and twitches, the unevenness of your breathing tell me you’re a little wary. But your swollen pussy and gushing juice tell me your arousal is off the charts. Even if you truly didn’t want to do the things I demanded, your submissive nature made the decision for you. You want to turn your choices over to us. You need to give your power to us on a visceral level that simply cannot be denied.” He released her wrists, allowing her hands to fall into her lap. “So, you see? That puts you in complete charge of what ultimately happens to you. And if you don’t like what’s happenin’ to you, you can stop it just by sayin’ your safe words.”
She ran her tongue over her suddenly dry lips in a futile attempt to moisten them. “Can it really be so simple?” she wondered aloud.
“It can. And it is. We’re bigger than you and stronger than you. We outnumber you, so we could force you to do anything we want. But that’s not Dominance, that’s abuse. There is no honor in that. Submission cannot be forced, it must be freely given. We ask for your submission so we can glorify you. So we can remind you that we think you’re beautiful and that you belong to us. It’s not you givin’ up something and us takin’ over. It’s an exchange of energy. And with that exchange comes a feelin’ of completion. A feelin’ of fulfillment. A feelin’ of utter rightness. For all of us. It all boils down to trust, the primary dynamic of any D/s relationship. We trust you to use your safe words if you’re feelin’ overwhelmed. And you trust us to honor your submission by allowin’ you the freedom to experience more pleasure than you’ve ever dreamed possible. And to keep you safe while doin’ it.”
Safe. A relative term. And highly misleading. Because putting herself entirely into their hands meant trusting that they were capable of threading the labyrinth of emotions they would create within her as they guided her to climax after climax. “You’re going to change who I am.”
“No, sugar. We’re gonna change your perception of who you are,” Caleb corrected. “Who you are is who you’ve always been and we suspect that, on some deep, secret level, you’ve always known it. That’s why you’ve been so afraid of it. You knew instinctively that if you allowed yourself to follow your natural proclivities, you would not be safe. Because you didn’t trust any of the men you met to honor your needs. Until you met us.”
He was right. The instant connection she’d felt with Simon, Ash, and Caleb Rafferty and the subsequent sexual pleasure they had given her, had not only felt right and inevitable, it had felt safe and adventurous and liberating. She was finally able to admit that she wanted to experience certain things when it came to sex. That she needed to try certain things when it came to sex.
“Do you have any questions, little sub?” Once again Caleb’s voice took on a glacial coldness that should have alarmed her. Instead, it sent shivers of arousal up and down her spine, raising goose bumps on her arms.
“No, Sir.”
“Good girl.” He rose from the ottoman. Simon and Ash moved to stand beside him, their gazes fixed on her, hot, hard, and seething with hunger. “Now, we will give you a choice. We can either take you upstairs. Or we can go downstairs.”
“W-what’s downstairs?” The tiny catch in her voice sent lust flaring in their eyes.
A feral grin split Caleb’s lips. “The dungeon.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The dungeon! Holy shit! They have a dungeon? She gnawed on her lip. But as terrifying as the thought of being taken to a real live dungeon was, she had to admit that her curiosity was running rampant. The three Raffertys waited patiently as she dithered back and forth. Color flooded her cheeks. Her breathing
was erratic. Her teeth savaged her lower lip.
“What’s it to be, darlin’?” Simon asked when the silence had stretched beyond endurance. Their cocks were like granite and they could hardly wait to introduce their gorgeous little sub to the delights of a full BDSM scene. And, actually, it didn’t really matter which room she chose, because both the bedroom and the dungeon were set up for all sorts of kinky play. But Kylie didn’t know that, and her choice would reveal more about how ready she was than she realized.
‘Umm.”
“Umm is not an answer, love,” Ash said. “Where do you want us to take you?”
“I think…” She paused. They were right. It all boiled down to a question of trust. Did she trust them to give her what she needed? What her body craved? “I would like to go to…” Another pause. She already knew the answers to those questions. She wanted what these men were offering. And she wanted it much more than she feared it. Her trust in them was absolute. And she was about to let them take her on the thrill ride of her life. “The dungeon.”
Holy shit, did I just say that?
Simon let out a loud whoop and scooped her up off the couch, twirling around with her in his arms. “Good choice, darlin’. I promise you won’t be disappointed.” He planted a kiss on her upturned mouth and carried her through the foyer and the dining room, into the kitchen, followed closely by Caleb and Ash, who opened a door leading down to a finished basement. They passed through an enormous game room with a pool table, a video arcade, a fully-functional granite-topped bar, and a home theater at the far end with deep, comfortable, leather chairs and sofas. Entering a hallway at the far end of the game room, they passed a full bathroom, a large room that appeared to be a home office for the three brothers, a suite of rooms that Ash said were his photography studio and dark room, to a door at the end of the hall. Caleb entered the code into the keypad that unlocked the door and they stepped into a dark room that became even darker as the door closed. Then the lights came on and Kylie gasped.
Passion's Fury (The Doms of Passion Lake Book 2) Page 19
