Michaels, Skye - Mikaela's Debut [The Black Dahlia Hotel 1] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)

by Skye Michaels

  “I wish we had the time to take it all off, but we have to get back up on deck.”

  * * * *

  As Mikaela and Dillon stepped out on deck, Jamie announced the first public appearance of Mr. and Mrs. Dillon Cavanaugh, pictures were snapped, and congratulations were accepted. The captain and Jamie had decided to move the ship out into deep water to avoid the possibility of photographers getting any pictures of the festivities or the happy couple. Any pictures that would be seen would be released by them. No one was going to be selling pictures to the tabloids. They didn’t think anyone knew Dillon and Mikaela were aboard but didn’t want to take any chances. Due to the BDSM nature of the cruises, the Golden Dolphin kept a very low profile, and information about its ownership other than its registry was not available online.

  The buffet table groaned with delicacies and drinks flowed like water. No one was driving home from this party. After about an hour of mingling, bottles of champagne were popped, the toasts were made, and the buffet table was opened. Dillon would not let go of her hand, and she had an awkward time hugging people with one arm.

  When the crowd around them had cleared a little, Joe and Mary Cavanaugh came over for hugs and kisses. Joe looked a little abashed. “I’m proud of you both today. You’re a man to be proud of, son, and I know you and Mikaela will enjoy a long and fruitful life.” Then he grinned. “About the fruitful part, I wouldn’t be averse to bouncing…”

  Mary stepped in. “Joe, enough. Mikaela, you look beautiful, and I know your parents would have been so proud today. They’re here in all our hearts.” Mikaela felt the tears beginning to slide down her cheeks. She’d held it together with a pin and a prayer all day so far. But they were happy tears as she hugged Mary Cavanaugh, her new mother-in-law.

  The band Jamie had somehow found began playing, and Mikaela and Dillon had their first dance. As soon as the song was winding down, Miguel stepped up. “Querida, as acting father of the bride, I want my first dance.”

  She stepped into his arms. “Thank you for helping out today, Miguel. I really appreciate it, and having you walk me down the aisle made my day so much nicer.”

  “You are welcome, querida. It was my pleasure.”

  * * * *

  The party didn’t wind down until the wee hours, but Mikaela and Dillon had managed to sneak away around midnight. Once back in their suite, Mikaela kicked off the soft, Italian leather ballet flats that had proved to be a lifesaver. Then she began unpinning the flowered circlet from her hair. “Thank you for this wonderful day, Dillon. It couldn’t have been more perfect.”

  “No, it couldn’t. You are so beautiful. Can I help you out of that dress, Mikki?”

  “Oh, absolutely.” He lifted the gauzy confection over her head.

  “Wow, baby. If I’d known what was under that dress we would have left the party a lot earlier.” His eyes coasted down over the lacy corset and matching thong, garter belt, and thigh-high stockings. He stepped in close and began to unfasten the tiny hooks that held the corset closed. When he was done, he kneeled down to unfasten the stockings from the garter belt, leaving her standing in the lacy thong.

  He pressed his lips to her mound and then turned her around and kissed the heart-and-roses tattoo on her butt. “This is all mine now. I love you, baby.”

  “It’s been all yours for a long time, Dilly. For a long time.”

  He stood, kissed his way up her body to her lips, and then took her hand and led her into the bedroom.

  He laid the dress over one of the upholstered chairs in the bedroom and deposited her at the edge of the bed. He ran his hands down her legs and kissed behind her ear. She felt her pulse beginning to race as she anticipated his next moves. Before she knew it she was naked and spread out in the center of the enormous bed. He came down beside her. Mikaela ran her hands down his muscled back and over his taut butt. He really was gorgeous. This beautiful man was all hers. She knew she loved him and that there would never be anyone else for her.

  She grabbed on and urged him to mount her as warm, slick moisture flooded her pussy and her legs clamped around his back. She was always in a rush to get to the prize, and he always wanted to draw it out to the last possible second. Yin and yang—and we complement each other so perfectly. The breeze off the water through the open doors to the deck was delicious on her skin.

  He rubbed over her swollen clit in a tight, firm circling motion, and a ripple of delight coasted from her pussy up her spine right to her scalp as he pressed against her crease. Her pulse quickened. She never got enough of him. Her full breasts rubbed against his hard chest as her legs wrapped around his waist.

  Finally, he entered her to the hilt with a strong thrust. He whispered in her ear, and his deep, seductive voice sent more ripples up her spine as he told her what he was going to do to her. He crushed his mouth to hers and she opened to him completely. He began the slow, rocking strokes that escalated to the hard, pounding thrusts she loved until she exploded into a roaring orgasm, and he followed her over almost immediately. She watched the play of emotions across his strong features, and then held her breath as he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her hard and strong, tapering into hot and then sweet. God, I love and need this man. He’s my love, my husband, my Dom.

  After their pulses had stopped pounding and he had pulled the silk blankets up, he said, “I love you, baby. It’s me and you forever.” Then he grinned at her and pulled her close to his chest.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Aboard the Golden Dolphin, at the wharf in Cozumel Harbor, Isla Cozumel, in the Caribbean Sea, State of Quintana Roo, Mexico, Wednesday late morning, January 6, 2016

  Dillon and Mikaela stayed in bed late the next morning and took time for a morning quickie. By the time they came up on deck, brunch was in full swing. Apparently all of the passengers had slept in after the late night of partying at the wedding reception. When they arrived everyone gave them a loud greeting of hoots and hollers. No one could say this was a quiet group.

  Joe and Mary Cavanaugh were having second cups of coffee before taking off for the airport and returning to Greenwich. Dillon knew his father was anxious to get back home so he could monitor the election polls. Dillon decided to take pity on him. “Dad, my friend Morgan Court texted that I’m up in the polls despite all this business. Apparently the voters like a guy who will finally tell it like it is and the hell with the consequences.”

  “I hope so, son. I think you can do a lot of good in Congress.”

  “If it’s meant to be, it will be. I’ve got everything I need and want—Mikaela, my law practice, my family and friends. I’m just sorry Mikki had to go through all of this ugliness. Speaking of which…” He turned to the next table. “Miguel, have you heard anything from your friend in Brooklyn?”

  “No, but I think I’ll call him and put a little pressure on. He gave me no quarter when he was prosecuting some of the Toros who had moved north last year. He owes me.”

  “Thanks for using some of your political currency to help us out, buddy. I really appreciate it.”

  “De nada, mi amigo.” Miguel picked up his cell phone, scanned recent calls, and speed-dialed Mario Ferrante, the Brooklyn DA. “Mario, Gatto. Have you got anything on the Maggie Sexton matter? I’m here with Mr. and Mrs. Cavanaugh.” He winked at Mikaela, and Dillon got a warm feeling in his chest when he saw Mikaela blush on hearing herself referred to as Mrs. Cavanaugh. Miguel listened attentively. “Thanks, Mario. I’ll let them know.” He turned to Dillon. “He says they got a warrant to tap her phones and bug her apartment, and they have her under surveillance, but they haven’t gotten anything yet.”

  “Damn. I guess we just have to be patient.”

  “Dillon, I have an idea. You know she did not react well to the pressure of discovering the tapes were gone and then having Mikaela refuse to pay the blackmail. She’s volatile with a hair trigger. I think if you release a carefully chosen selection of wedding photographs to the media she might lose it again and say som
ething useful on the phone or in the apartment. I think you need to stir the pot.”

  “I think you’re right. That might work.”

  “The photos should be chosen to portray the opulence of your lifestyle without being obvious. Shots of the yacht should be carefully edited so the size and luxury are highlighted but without identifying the name or the ownership. You don’t want the press descending on you when we get back to Key West or Fort Lauderdale.”

  “After breakfast let’s see what photos Greg’s got. He was all over the place with that digital camera yesterday.”

  After breakfast Dillon, Mikaela, Jamie, Jack, J.J., and Miguel met Greg Dempsey in the business center to view the wedding pictures. They chose a beautiful picture of Mikaela walking down the aisle on Miguel’s arm, Dillon and Mikaela holding hands and kissing in front of the Catedral of Corpus Christi altar, Dillon helping Mikaela to step down from the horse-drawn carriage at the wharf, Mikaela tossing her bridal bouquet on the top deck with the superstructure and helicopter in the background, and Dillon and Mikaela’s first dance. In all of them Mikaela looked like a princess in the deceptively simple but elegant hand-sewn and embroidered gauze wedding gown that was clearly one of a kind. White rosebuds crowned the long, brown hair that cascaded over her shoulders in wild waves, and love could be seen shining in her eyes.

  Miguel looked at Dillon. “If these don’t send her over the edge, nothing will. Another possibility is having Mikaela meet with her wearing a wire, but I don’t like that idea.”

  “I don’t like it either. Let’s not mention that in front of Mikaela. She may decide she wants to try it. Once she’s got an idea in her head, it’s hard to get it out.”

  “Are you saying your beloved wife and sub is stubborn?” Miguel was grinning.

  “Oh yeah.” Dillon grinned back.

  Greg said, “I’ll e-mail the pictures up to Morgan Court’s security people. They already have the Internet addresses of all the sites that published the original story and pictures all set to go.”

  When Dillon and Mikaela came back on deck, the senior Cavanaughs were ready to leave the ship for the airport. Hugs and kisses were exchanged. Joe Cavanaugh leaned down and whispered in Mikaela’s ear, “Welcome to the family, little girl. We’re glad to have you. All of this will work itself out. Just be happy with my boy.”

  She whispered back, “That’s the plan, Dad C.”

  “Just call me dad.”

  * * * *

  Late Wednesday afternoon the Golden Dolphin pulled away from the wharf in Cozumel Harbor. Mikaela and Dillon had done a little more snorkeling and spent a few hours at the beach before returning to the ship. They were enjoying the sunset and cocktails when Greg Dempsey approached their chaise lounge. “We’ll be back in Fort Lauderdale in three days. You need to start bracing for the shit storm. The pictures are all over the Internet, even on sites we didn’t forward them to. I believe the appropriate term is ‘gone viral.’ You two are the hottest couple in America right now and the media is clamoring for interviews. Prince William and Kate Middleton will just have to relinquish the spotlight for a while.”

  “That really wasn’t the idea, Greg. Hell. We just want to have a normal life without the press, blackmailers, sex tapes…”

  Greg grinned. “You may have to copy a page from Morgan Court’s book. It’s my understanding he goes out in disguise sometimes.”

  “Thanks, buddy. That’s a really comforting thought.”

  “I know. You’ll have privacy aboard the Dolphin and at the Black Dahlia, but after that, you might want to grant one or two select interviews to sate the ravening wolves clawing at the door.”

  “Did Morgan send anyone in to retrieve the bugs before the Brooklyn DA got their own in place?”

  “I believe Court’s bugs are still live. It’s too late to get them now. I wouldn’t worry about them though. I’m sure they would have used untraceable equipment. In any case, I think you and Mikaela had a right to protect yourselves from a blackmailer.”

  “I think so, too, but I’d hate to muddy the waters of any prosecution with unauthorized listening devices. Well, we’ll just have to see what happens.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Port Everglades, Fort Lauderdale, Florida, on board the Golden Dolphin, Saturday morning, January 9, 2016

  Mikaela and Dillon were on the top deck saying their good-byes and thanking the crew. She really hated to give up the privacy and safety afforded by the ship’s security team. As far as they knew, no one had figured out where they were, although it was general knowledge that they had married in Cozumel. The media storm didn’t seem to have quieted down at all. She had been hoping that some new phenomenon would push them and their pictures off the front pages of the tabloids, legitimate press, and all the Internet and television celebrity sites. No such luck so far. They were not yet done with their fifteen minutes of fame. They had decided to stay at the hotel for a few more days to enjoy their honeymoon before returning to Connecticut, where they would have no buffer from the press. Mikaela was beginning to think their gamble to upset Maggie’s apple cart and wring something incriminating from her had failed and was going to be too costly by far.

  Miguel Gatto and Gabriella Dellaveccia came out on deck and joined them on the rail. Miguel shook hands with Dillon and hugged Mikaela tight. “I’ll keep you advised if I hear anything from Mario. I know his office is going to want to interview you and see what evidence they can gather from Mikaela’s cell phone. I’ll forward you his contact information. Let us know if we can be of any help.”

  Gabriella leaned over to kiss Mikaela’s cheek and said, “Chin up, girlie. It will all work out. Darkness, dawn, and all that trite stuff.”

  “Thanks, Gabby. All of you guys have been great. Let’s keep in touch. Dillon and I definitely want to make The Black Dahlia and the Golden Dolphin regular vacation retreats.”

  “Well, we’re locals so we will be here and look forward to seeing you. You and Dillon will have to try The Black Iris Club in Jack’s building. It’s fabulous, and the security is top notch.”

  Miguel’s cell phone tinkled out a Latin ring tone and he answered. “Hey, Mario. What’s up? Do you have any good news for us?” A pause. “That’s interesting. She went gonzo, huh? Actually, that’s good. And you have a tail on her? Excellent.”

  Miguel ended the call and turned to them. “Apparently, Maggie freaked out when she saw the wedding pictures on television and tore up her apartment. Those pictures are everywhere. She has been in contact with, and has set a meeting in Central Park today with, a known lesser member of one of the gangs based in Brooklyn. Apparently she is acquainted with him in some manner. The conversation was very cryptic.”

  “A gang member? That doesn’t sound like the Maggie I know. She is a total snob.” This was scary. Were they now in physical danger as well?

  “Evidently she wants something from him. There are not a lot of options here. I can think of one or two very unpleasant things she might want. I don’t like the sound of this. One good thing is that this gang member is actually an NYPD undercover cop on a deep-cover assignment in the gang. Mario’s people have her under surveillance and intend to record the meeting in Central Park. You guys need to stay out of sight either on board or at the hotel. This could get dangerous.”

  Dillon said, “I don’t like the sound of this at all. Do you think she could be trying to arrange a hit? Could she think she might be Mikaela’s next of kin for inheritance purposes? That would not be the case in any event since we are now married. What the fuck can she be up to?”

  “Knowing her greedy motives so far, I would be inclined to think it’s the inheritance angle and that she just isn’t that knowledgeable about line of succession.” Miguel shook his head. “Either that or you are both in her sights. You both need to be very careful until this is worked out.”

  Casey Campbell joined them. “Folks, the hotel’s van is at the dock, and all of your luggage has been loaded. Mr. Gatto, your luggage
is in your car.”

  “Thanks, Casey. We’ll get out of your hair.” Dillon gave her one of his blinding smiles, and Casey responded with one of her own.

  “Oh, no problem at all. If you need to hang around, you are more than welcome. We are not headed out again for a couple of days.”

  * * * *

  In the Cavanaugh suite at The Black Dahlia Hotel, Fort Lauderdale Beach, Florida, Saturday afternoon, January 9, 2016

  Dillon and Mikaela were back in their suite and had unpacked their bags. “She’s your cousin, Mikki. What do you think she’s up to?”

  “It’s either revenge for thwarting her, or she’s still trying for that big payday. I don’t know which, but it’s scary. Imagine if she had connected with a gang member who wasn’t an undercover cop? I wonder what the going price for knocking off your family members is these days.”

  “Let’s have lunch here and stay out of sight for a while. We can go up to the dungeon floor later. That’s as secure as Fort Knox.”

  “Good idea. I could use a little stress relief, and the dungeon sounds like just the ticket right now, Master.”

  * * * *

  A park bench near the Bethesda Fountain in Central Park, New York City, New York, Saturday mid-afternoon, January 9, 2016

  Maggie Sexton was sitting on a bench on the Bethesda Terrace near the Bethesda Fountain overlooking the lake on the north side of Seventy-Second Street. She had entered the park from Fifth Avenue after buying a hot dog and coke. She scanned the crowds looking for Ernesto Hernandez, a guy she had seen on the street around her neighborhood and talked to a few times in the local bodega. She thought he was a gang member, but she wasn’t sure just how connected he was. He certainly had a rough appearance.