by Madison Faye
“What? Jordan is inside? Can you explain how he got past my guys out front?” Collins squawked.
“Get me Henson, now!” I managed to say, rather proud of myself that it came out calmly and clearly when what I really wanted to discover was if it was possible to strangle two men at the same time. If this conversation continued, we sure as shit were going to find out.
“Griff, you’re the only eyes inside. Do what you have to do.” Finally, someone who not only knew how to run an operation, but knew me well enough to understand that my mission had changed the moment I’d seen Bailey enter.
“Wait! Don’t tell him that! Anderson! I know you can hear me. I don’t know what’s got your panties in a wad, but you know we need Jor—”
“Griff?” Henson broke in, his calm baritone easily overriding Collins’ whine. “I’m not sure who this Bailey is, but I can assure you she doesn’t work with us. If she’s in there, she’s there by her own volition.”
“No fucking way,” I said. “She’d never…” Suddenly I stopped speaking, realizing the shock of seeing a face from the past had me jumping to what was obviously the wrong conclusions. Though I’d never considered the girl who’d grown up next door to me as being interested in the kinkier side of life, what if Henson was right? I had not seen her in a decade but people changed… grew up. Looking at her again, I had to wonder and yet I didn’t truly give a shit. Choice or not, this was not a safe place for her to be.
“One word and I’m there. Your call.”
Having worked with Henson before, I knew I could depend on him not only to handle the fall-out that my deviating from any plan, no matter how flawed, would cause, but I could also trust him with my life. He didn’t question why I was changing the plan or why I no longer gave a shit about what the task force needed. He seemed to understand I had needs of my own. “Roger that,” I said, a plan starting to form in my mind as I pushed through the crowd.
Yeah, I’d make the call and once I was sure she was safe, I’d first ask what the fuck she was thinking and then… well, then I’d blister her ass.
Chapter Three
Bailey
Even wearing heels, the four inches added to my height still didn’t allow me to slip gracefully onto the seat. By the time I lowered myself onto the ridiculously high barstool, I felt like I’d climbed Mt. Everest. I twisted away from the room and saw a bartender approaching. His sandy blond hair brushed his shoulders, his eyes were a sky blue, but it was his smile that had me relaxing.
“What can I get you?” he asked, sliding a napkin in front of me.
I wasn’t much of a drinker, but then again, I had a mission. About to order a glass of wine, I changed my mind. Tonight was about being daring. “A dirty vodka martini with an olive instead of a twist if that’s okay?”
“Sure thing,” he said, moving away to fix my drink.
“Make it a double,” I called after him. The faster I consumed my liquid courage, the quicker I’d relax.
The mirror behind the bar didn’t only serve to reflect the bottles lined up on shelves in front of it, it provided a window into a lifestyle that I’d only fantasized about. A woman who had to be over six feet tall, wearing a black bustier that didn’t support her huge breasts as much as threatened to spill them out, was sauntering toward the bar, her right hand holding a leash that was attached to the collar of a woman who looked familiar. It was Laura, the woman who’d been in front of me at the door. She hadn’t been in the place five minutes longer than me, but she was definitely a player. She was as light as the other woman was dark. White lingerie and her blonde hair contrasted sharply with the Amazonian woman’s ebony hair and lingerie.
I could barely breathe as the domme leaned against the bar less than a foot from where I sat. “On your knees, pet,” she said, and Laura gracefully sank to kneel. After she ordered a shot of tequila, I watched as she looked down at the submissive at her feet and grinned. “Don’t worry, kitten, Mistress Donna will let you lap up her cream in just a minute.”
“Oh, thank you, Mistress.”
The look of excitement on Laura’s face had mine heating. No book I’d read could truly describe this. Even those free videos on kinky websites seemed pale in comparison to the reality I was witnessing. A bit startled when my martini was set in front of me, I picked it up and took a huge gulp, promptly breaking into a coughing fit.
“Easy,” the bartender said, handing me another napkin.
Wiping my mouth, I took a deep breath. “I guess I thought it would be weaker.”
He laughed and shook his head. “Yeah, well, you looked like you could use a stiff drink.”
“Thanks.” Picking up the plastic sword where he’d skewered not one, but three fat olives, I wrapped my lips around the first one, drawing it off.
“What a pretty mouth you have. Perhaps you’d like to join me and my pet?”
It took me a moment to understand the woman—the domme—was addressing me. I didn’t need to see the glare that Laura was shooting my way to shake my head. I chewed the olive and swallowed.
“No, thank you, ma’am.” Proud of myself for remembering to tack on the term of respect, I was about to slide another olive free but was suddenly conscious of my mouth, something I’d never really given thought to before. Dropping the sword back into its bath of vodka and olive brine, I picked up my glass and took another sip instead.
“Too bad,” the woman said, tossing back her shot and her hair. “Come along, pet, let’s see how prettily your tongue can lick my pussy.”
Forget manners, I took a long last swallow of my martini. Funny how it no longer burned going down. Still feeling a little self-conscious about sucking another green orb off the sword, I slid it off with my fingers instead and popped it into my mouth. They were tart and crunchy and, well, I really like olives.
“She’s right, you know.”
Turning, I saw a man had appeared on my left. “Excuse me?”
“And she’s wrong.”
Who was he talking about? Hell, I wasn’t even sure he was talking to me because he wasn’t looking at me. Well, he was, but not at my face. “I’m sorry, are you speaking to me?”
“It’s not just your mouth that is beautiful. You’re a stunning woman from head to toe,” he said when his gaze finally lifted to mine.
“Oh… um, thank you.”
He smiled… a smile that did not reach his eyes as he took my hand. “I don’t need your thanks. I need to see those luscious lips stretched around my cock.”
Had the martini been drugged? Had I had more than one—two if you counted the fact that it had been a double—and had lost my ability to comprehend? I must have because there was no way I’d just heard what I thought I had.
“I’m—”
“A very naughty little girl.”
What?
Whipping my eyes to the mirror again, I saw the face of another man. His gaze met mine and I knew it was a damn good thing I didn’t have an olive in my mouth as I was pretty sure I’d have choked on it.
Chapter Four
Griffith
“Who the fuck are you?”
Praying that Bailey’s sense of survival was pinging and she’d not get us both killed, I turned my gaze to the sleazeball who’d dared touch her.
“I’m the guy who is going to give you three seconds to get your hand off my sub. One—”
“Do you know who the fuck you’re talking to?” Jordan asked.
“Yeah. You’re the guy who’s about to get his fucking hand broken,” I said, forcing myself not to break eye contact even when I saw two of his henchmen move to flank me. “Two—”
Jordan waited until I began to form the last word of the count to drop Bailey’s wrist and to shake his head once, effectively telling his goons to back off. Though he kept his eyes on me, he spoke to Bailey.
“Is this your master?”
“Master?” she asked, her voice shaky and my heart stopped in my chest. “Oh, you mean my dom?” she said, allowi
ng us another moment of life.
“Master, dom, daddy, whatever term you prefer,” Jordan said, finally looking at her. “In other words, do you belong to him?”
Bailey’s eyes flicked to mine, the emerald depths full of confusion and fear. Hang in there, baby. We’ll get out of this mess, I tried to convey without speaking, hoping to God she got the silent assurance.
“Yes, he’s my dadd… um, dom. I mean, yes, I’m… I’m his submissive.”
I was about to step forward and pluck her off the stool when Jordan held up a single finger, stilling me. “If that’s true, then why did you not only arrive unescorted, but accept my special band stating you were available, roam about the club and sit here, drinking, without a care in the world?”
Fuck. Those were all extremely good questions, I thought.
“Just say the word, buddy,” I heard Henson speak in my ear. “I’ve got eyes on you and the girl.”
Nodding to let him know I understood, I crossed my arms over my chest, voicing my first thought. “Excellent questions. Answer very carefully, because, little girl, what I hear will be how I decide if your daddy will be adding a round with the belt to the spanking you’ve got coming.”
I watched Bailey’s mouth form a little ‘O,’ saw her eyes widen further, and watched as color rose from the scooped neckline of her dress up her neck to stain her cheeks.
“I-I… you… you’re go… going to… I-I don’t want a spanki…” Her words were broken but that simply helped her come off as sincere. She jumped, giving a soft cry as the small plastic sword she’d been playing with snapped in two. Looking from it to me and then to Jordan, she took a much needed deep breath. “I-I just wanted to… to have some fun.”
“Well, how’s that working out for you,” I asked. “Are you having fun?”
Her head slowly shook back and forth, auburn hair sliding over her shoulders, curls brushing across her breasts with the motion.
“Why do you think that is?”
“Because you… you’re mad?”
“Correct,” I said. “And why would I be upset?”
“Ummm… because I was bad?” Funny how she even looked guilty, her bottom lip disappearing between her teeth at the confession, her body shifting a bit on her stool.
“Not bad,” I said, “just very naughty.” I watched as her eyes went even wider and dropped to my waist where my fingers were now hooked around my belt. “Little girls who break the rules and sneak out to go have ‘fun’ are naughty girls. You’ll be reminded of what happens to naughty girls when we get home.”
“Why don’t you remind her right now?”
Jordan. Fuck, I’d almost forgotten he was still here. Turning my head slightly, I saw that though he hadn’t left, he appeared to be finding this entertaining. More important, he looked far more relaxed. Evidently, he was buying our little act. But we weren’t clear yet. I was well aware that a good ninety percent of dominants who discovered their sub had been disobedient would have them most likely stripped and bent over the nearest surface ready to get their ass handed to them. My hope was that Jordan was aware of the ten percent who didn’t go down the obvious path.
“Since my sub drew you into her little attempt of making me jealous, I’ll tell you a secret about her,” I said, willing to allow him to save face if that got Bailey out of his clutches. Stepping forward, I slid my arm around Bailey’s waist. The slight quiver I could feel running through her told me that though she was playing along, it was taking a toll on her. Tightening my hold to let her know I’d not leave her side, I slid my free hand through the thick mass of her hair cascading down her back. Fisting a handful of the silky curls, I tugged, forcing her head back, exposing the slim pale column of her throat.
“My sub may appear pure… innocent,” I said, my eyes on hers, noticing the panic had calmed. She was literally putting her life in my hands and if I hadn’t felt the weight of responsibility before, I was feeling it now. Bending forward, I meant to kiss her forehead but the moment her lip was released, I placed mine on them, giving the plump flesh a nip of my own. When she moaned, I brushed my tongue along the seam of her lips, soothing them from the small bite, lingering a moment just to reassure her that I was here… I wasn’t going to let her down. When her hand came up to wrap around my neck, it reminded me of what the fuck I was supposed to be doing. Lifting my head, I took her hand, returning it to her lap. “But, as you can see, underneath this sweet little facade lies a woman who gets off on public display. A woman whose panties are ruined with just the thought of my hands pulling her off this stool, ordering her to bend over this bar. One who can practically come with just the thought of having her ass bared and spanked.” I was making my case to keep her safe and yet couldn’t help but notice that her breathing quickened, her eyes fluttered closed, her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth again as a soft moan escaped. Fuck me… was Bailey a player? Did she get off on pain? I could feel my cock twitching as I wondered if she was truly an exhibitionist. Seeing her nipples pressing against the bodice of her dress, I forced myself to remember that even if she was, this was not the place to find out.
Moving my eyes from her to Jordan, I said, “The bigger the audience the better. And since she’s been a very, very naughty sub, I’ll be punishing her… not contributing to her ‘fun’ and definitely not rewarding her with an orgasm. As a man who never lets a woman even think for a moment that she is in control, I’m sure you understand.”
He looked from me to Bailey, and then nodded. “I do,” he said, the gesture he made subtle but apparently communicated to his two men to move away, to take up their position behind him again. With my path clear, I released my hold on Bailey’s hair only to scoop her up into my arms, giving him a nod as I turned and presented him my back as I began to walk away.
“Griff—”
“Hush,” I said. Until I got her out of this club, I needed my every sense to be free to look and listen. If he’d not bought the story, if he didn’t respect my right as Bailey’s dom to not only take her out from under him, but to treat him with less respect than he demanded from everyone in his life… this would be the moment I’d find out. When no shot rang out, no steel penetrated my back, and the door to the foyer was opened by yet another of Jordan’s goons, I began to breathe a bit easier. Stepping over the threshold, I was halfway to the front door when Bailey began to twist in my arms.
“Be still. We’re not out yet.”
“But I need—”
“You need to obey,” I said, my hand slapping against her ass, the swat causing her to stiffen.
“Hey! That hurt!”
Okay, most likely not a masochist. Not if a single swat with my hand—over her clothing no less—brought on such a protest. Filing that away, I looked down at her. “Then I suggest you be a very, very good little girl, and do everything I say because if you don’t, Daddy will be adding more than a belt to the spanking I promised to deliver.” Hell, where had that come from?
I might not have any idea, but since it caused her to gape, her mouth moving, yet no words emerging, I didn’t particularly care. I gave her ass another swat for good measure and carried her out of the club. I didn’t even consider releasing her until I heard Henson’s voice in my ear stating, “You’re clear, but Collins is demanding a report.”
“Fuck,” I said, finally allowing Bailey’s feet to slip to the ground, admiring the way her legs looked in the red-soled stilettos she was wearing.
“Who are you talking to?” Bailey asked, looking around.
Before I could answer, a limo pulled up to the curb a few feet from us. Though it was long and sleek and cost a small fortune, the illusion of quiet, refined wealth was ruined as every single window was open, music blaring and smoke—not all of it cigarette smoke—wafted from the interior. As the doors opened to spill scantily clad females out onto the street, I swept Bailey behind me.
“Relax, it’s just a bachelorette party,” Bailey said. “See, there’s the bride.” One of the
women wore a sash across her chest that did, indeed, proclaim her the bride-to-be. Shaking my head, wondering if I’d been anywhere near that stupid when I was that young, I ran my hand over my face and looked to the corner where I knew the surveillance van was parked. “Tell Collins I’ll file the report, but Bailey comes first.”
“He might buy that if you actually have her in your possession,” Henson said.
It wasn’t his words, but his chuckle that had me whipping around to see Bailey had joined the crowd of party goers and… fuck, was she actually congratulating the bride? They were already through the door.
“I’m gonna kill her,” I said, storming to the door and yanking it open. Being three inches over six feet allowed me the position of being able to look over the heads of most of those crammed into the foyer. Jesus, how could such a crappy club attract so many people? When I spied a swirl of curls the color of the sunset, my heart skipped a beat. What the hell was she doing? We’d just managed to escape through the very door she was headed for. The only reason I didn’t die on the spot was because she veered off toward the wall of cubicles on the left of the door. Every cell in my body wanted to toss people aside like rag dolls, but the less attention we garnered the better.
“Are you out of your mind? That man would just as soon kill you as fuck you,” I said when I finally reached her.
She looked up, her face paling a bit even as she shook her head. “I tried to tell you when we walked… I mean when you walked past them, but you told me to be quiet. But I really do need my things. I thought I put them in the fourth row up but…” I watched as she scanned the wall in front of her. “Oh, there they are.”
Seeing that she was pulling stuff from a cube, I just shook my head and took the coat she handed me without thinking, holding it as she slipped her arms into the sleeves. She grabbed a purse and slid the strap over her shoulder.
