by Susan Arden
Waves of desperation washed over Mia, made worse when he guffawed at his own suggestion that everyone should try it. The men with Beau asked if he would return to the club again. He said something that brought a round of laughter. His crude comments pierced her concentration and she lost her traction. She tumbled onto her knees, coming down on partially solid ice, and did a body slide into a puddle. The bite of freezing water and shock of falling wore off the second she realized she’d dropped her car keys.
Where are they? She swung her hand out in front of her, her heart beating so fast if felt like it would burst from her throat.
Blindly she groped along the ground in the shadows, but she couldn’t make out anything that resembled keys. Flailing her fingers, she brushed over familiar metal, and quickly she brought her hand back to the spot where she’d felt her keys, and scooped them out of the water. A thrill raced through her seeing the silver horseshoe pendant attached to her key ring, gleaming in the low light. She thanked God, but wasn’t about to stick around a moment longer.
She glanced up at her car and the incline. Oh. Shit! Lifting up onto her hands and knees, she crawled through the puddle until she was on level ground near the storm drain. Not far from her car now, she rose precariously and tottered the four remaining feet to her car door. She could barely hold her key steady. The tips of her fingers were numb making the job of shoving a key into a lock not as easy as it looked. Scrambling inside her car, she couldn’t slam the door fast enough. Her whole body shivered uncontrollably and she wiped the windshield that started to fog with her breath. She had to leave, not just sit there half-frozen.
Her fingers trembled holding her keys out from her body. She bit down on her lip to stop her shaking long enough to slip the key into the ignition—another act of surgical finesse—then gunned the engine and backed out of the parking spot. Putting her car into gear, she was all too aware that even though her Civic was common enough, only a few people had a Santero Ranch tag on the bumper. There wasn’t an exit on this side of the lot, unless she considered the sidewalk. It was the only way out, other than chance driving right past Beau.
“Just go for it,” she told herself. It was her one option and she took it. She clenched her jaw, and stepped on the gas, plowing over the sidewalk. Her car jerked, then shimmied, and settled down onto…more ice!
“Shiiiit!” she screeched. Her car started to slide and fishtail. The uncontrollable glide scared the hell out of her, but not enough that she couldn’t handle it by clutching the steering wheel until she felt the grip of her tires on a clear stretch of the street.
After tonight, she’d need a long soak in hot bath or a shot of straight whiskey—or both. She tried to catch her breath, but it was frigging hard to do with her skin half-frozen and sitting in a dripping wet cloak.
Got to get this thing off. She trained her attention on the road, yanking open the ties at her neck. She shrugged the cape off her shoulders and followed up by flipping on the heater. The blast of cold air that blew out from the vents made her teeth chatter nonstop. She almost didn’t notice the buzzing vibration against her hip. Dammit. She’d forgotten to return the cell phone to Penrose.
Should I go back and return it? She shook her head and fiercely pronounced to the universe, “No. Freaking. Way.”
Chapter Sixteen
Brandon made it to Paris in thirty-three minutes, his cell phone right next to him—no texts or returned calls from Mia—and swung into the club’s rear lot, parking right at the back door. He scanned the lot and her car wasn’t there, not that he’d actually thought she’d still be inside.
“Hey, Brandon,” one of the security man called out and he nodded curtly in response.
“Pen inside?”
“Yep. It’s been a night,” one of guys responded, exhaling that tidbit with the smoke of a cigarette.
Storming into the place, he found Marty and barked, “Where’s Pen?”
“In a room with a sub. You need him right this second?”
“Tell him to meet me upstairs in my office, as soon as he’s finished.” Brandon scaled the stairs and tried the door to his apartment. He entered, calling out Mia’s name just in case Pen had let her inside. Empty. Maybe she was in his office.
He returned to the hall, his pulse racing, and approached the office door that stood ajar. “Motherfucker,” he snarled, entering his office.
Drawers hung open drunkenly, and a few were on the floor, the contents dumped. His papers lay scattered across the floor behind his desk, and the closet light was on. He walked over, his focus on the club’s safe. He bent down and twirled the knob from left to right until he heard the click and swung the heavy door open. Everything was as he’d left it. Cash, documents, and his gun. He’d changed the combination after Val left, but had failed to give strict instructions to the staff to prevent her from entering the office itself. She’d acted like she’d never step foot inside the place again, but he should have known better.
“Hurricane Val showed up,” Pen announced from the doorway, with a toothpick stuck in his mouth. “Out of the blue. The security crew didn’t think to stop her.”
Brandon slammed the safe door shut, reset the combination, and stood. “What the fuck was going on?” he lowered his voice, keeping in check the temper that he knew had the propensity to get out of control if he didn’t get hold of himself. A red haze blanketed his thoughts, recalling Mia’s quavering voice when she’d described the scene that had unfolded with her here alone….without him to deal with this fiasco and protect her.
“You can only imagine. Val threatened, in bitch mode—as usual,” Pen pushed off the door and walked inside. “Shit. I didn’t realize this was what she was up to.”
Brandon’s whole body flash-burned and he turned away from Pen, walked to the window, and took several deep breaths, clenching his jaw and fighting the urge to punch the wall. Come on, get it together.
Probably the biggest reason why he’d found this lifestyle meshed with his personality so well, was his own training at keeping his temper from exploding into a storm, wreaking havoc on him.
At first it had been an outlet, and then with training subs, he’d become the thing he was projecting. Stoic. Controlled. More often than not, the BDSM world was playacting, where people came to the S & L and sought sexual gratification through a deviation from the norm of their lives. It wasn’t like that for him. After years living life as a Dom, the ingrained control more than helped him master his anger…but every so often, a chink appeared in his armor. To get his head together, he would take a trip to the hunting cabin overlooking a ridge on the back corner of Evermore, desolate and reachable only by horseback.
Tonight that wouldn’t help. He pressed his hands on either side of the window frame and stared out into the darkness, wondering where Mia was headed. That’s the only thing that mattered—getting to her.
“Where was Mia?” he asked, swinging around.
The blood drained from Pen’s face. “I gave her my cell and she came up here. She left when the shit hit the fan.”
“Did she return downstairs?” Mia had said a woman had entered his office… Son of a bitch!
“Don’t know. Like I said, she left before I found Val carting out a load of her stuff.”
“So you left Val unattended to roam around. Just come and go?”
“Man, once I heard from you that she got into the club, I came up here. But I couldn’t stop her. What was I going to do? You know if I laid a hand on her, she’d be the one to accuse the club of something. No fucking way was I going to set myself up, or jeopardize the club.”
“Bet if she’s back in town, it’s got to do with money. Always was, where she was concerned.” Brandon pushed his frustration to the periphery of his thoughts as he considered what needed to occur, and in what order. One thought spun inside his brain without interruption, becoming more encompassing as each second ticked by. He needed to locate Mia and find out what the hell had happened. “I have to find Mia.”
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“Bran, this ain’t that earth shattering. She’ll be back. What’s the big deal? The club is fine.”
“Fine? Did you just say fine?” he asked bitterly. “Some asswipe is having his dick sucked in the bar, my fucking ex walks in like she owns the place, and Mia is missing. Just where in the hell is fine in all of that?”
“Poor choice of words,” Pen admitted. He raised his palms. “I meant that it’s not so cata…Shit. You’re overreacting. The building is still standing and the club is packed. Business is good.”
Brandon immediately understood his partner’s point. “I get that the business isn’t suffering. But this isn’t just about business!”
“It sure as shit is,” Penrose snapped. “So what if Val came and got her stuff? I don’t know a woman who, once the relationship is over, is going to act sane. Not my ex-wife and not your ex-girlfriend. It was a matter of time. And Mia…work her, like you do all those women. Shit, Brandon, she’s all wide-eyed and hasn’t got a goddamn clue. That’s why I thought it would be perfect. She’s a plum ready to pluck. All you have to do is reach out.”
“What are you talking about?” Brandon snapped, unable to draw a breath.
“You’ve gone soft, if this is how you react to a naïve piece of ass. Man up, or dude, get the fuck out of the way. She wants to learn about the lifestyle, so teach her. Who the hell is top? Her or you? I know what part I play. Do you want me to take over?”
“You won’t touch her.” Brandon’s voice went dangerously low. His whole body convulsed and he curled his hands into fists.
“She came to me,” Pen reminded him.
Brandon’s whole body tightened. “If you don’t back off, we’re going to have one fucked up mess on our hands.”
“You letting a woman come between us?” Pen thundered back at him.
“Dude, I’m not the one threatening. I’m the one reminding you to back the fuck off. The only thing you’re going to do is greet Mia politely, or you’ll find out just how soft I am!” As he spoke, Brandon stalked deliberately toward his partner until he stood toe-to-toe with Penrose. Both of them were glaring, unblinking at one another, until Pen threw up his hands.
“Fuck. What the hell are we arguing about?” Penrose backed away. “We’re both on edge. I was way out of line.”
For a few hard-to-find breaths he stared across at Pen, then nodded restlessly. “Must be the full moon,” he ground out. Only then did he realize that he and Pen had come a hairsbreadth away from throwing a punch. His heart hammered in his chest and he bent down and picked up the papers on the floor, trying to collect his thoughts as well.
“What can I do?” Pen asked.
He glanced upward to his partner. “Make certain no one, and I mean no one, admits Val.”
“Shit, your no-admit list is getting longer by the day,” Pen smiled then closed his eyes. “Sorry. My foot is down my throat tonight.”
“Then make it right,” he growled.
“Name it,” Pen said.
“You still got that friend—a cop?”
Pen nodded. “We know several who come in.”
Brandon narrowed his eyes. “I need to find out Mia’s home address. Her forms give some post-office box in town. I know she’s got a roommate.”
“That I can do. Give me a few,” Pen said, and left the office.
For a couple of minutes, Brandon sat outside the address of the apartment he’d gotten from Pen. Mia’s car was parked on the street and he watched as several people came and went from the apartment building. He climbed out of his truck and followed the sidewalk up to the entrance. A couple exited and he caught the door, nodding to them.
He turned down a corridor and stood in front of apartment 1C. He knocked twice, and listened. The sound of footsteps approached the door and whoever was on the other side must have paused to look through the peephole.
The door opened a few inches. “Yes?” A young woman with blond hair and wide eyes looked up at him. “May I help you?”
“I’m here to see Mia.”
“Mia?” She actually looked him up and down. “What’s your name?”
“Brandon McLemore.”
“Hold on a sec.” She shut the door in his face and he could hear her footsteps recede from the doorway.
Once again, he heard the sound of feet walking across the floor. Sounded like only one pair and he was preparing to make his argument to get inside so he could speak to Mia, even if it meant through her bedroom—
The door opened and he stared into red-rimmed dark eyes, which stole his breath. “What are you doing here?” Mia asked in the softest voice he’d ever heard.
The urge to reach out and pull her to him just about overwhelmed his senses. He clasped the doorframe with his fingers. He’d had enough experience with scared fillies to know any sudden movements and their already skittish nature overreacted. In this case, a slammed door in his face would be less than helpful.
“Baby, I came to get you.”
“It’s too late.”
“Mia, I’m sorry things got so out of control. It won’t happen again. I won’t let you be at the club unless I’m there.”
She shook her head. “You don’t understand. I can’t talk about it.”
“Mia, you know that’s the only way to deal with this. Isn’t that what you told Selma and Esme?”
“Good listening,” she said, hugging her middle.
His chest ached to reach out to Mia. “Please,” he whispered, and brought his hand up to her cheek. “Don’t shut the door on us.”
Her chin quivered against his palm and tears began to fall from her eyes as she shook her head. He pushed his shoulder gently against the door, wedging it open as he slid his hand down to her shoulder. “Baby, one night. The way we were meant to spend it.”
She looked up into his eyes, searching, and he felt the tug on his heart. “And what will that prove?” she asked.
“Everything.” He placed his other hand on her waist, and this time he drew her to him, slowly, as he moved toward her. “God, I want you so completely.”
He kissed her temple and hugged her to him. Mia came willingly, though a bit stiffly, until he wrapped his arms around her. “I’m not good company tonight.”
“Then let me take care of you,” he said, lifting her chin. Staring down into her eyes, he felt himself drowning in the bottomless pool of her gaze.
He lowered his mouth, brushing his lips over hers, and an electrical current burst into life, rushing over his skin. He moved his hand to the back of her head, angling her face, and he licked across the seam of her lips. The feel of her mouth opening to him had him groaning in hunger. He took possession of her lips and thrust his tongue into her mouth, lapping at the lush softness he encountered.
His cock lengthened in his jeans and he held back from pressing into her. “Where do you need to be tomorrow?”
She blinked at him. “I have a class in the morning.”
“We can get a hotel room.”
She swung the door open. “My bedroom is right over there.”
He picked her up, and closed the door with his hip. He reached behind himself to lock it and walked forward. “That door? First one?”
“Yes.” She began to unbutton the front of his shirt and bit her incredible lower lip.
“Don’t do that unless you want me to throw you down on your bed and fuck you senseless.”
“Is that what I need?”
“You might not, but it would work wonders for my frustration.” He smiled down at her. “I want you naked and under me tonight. Skin to skin; and then you can tell me if this isn’t working for you.” He set her down, cupping her face for a beat, and felt his whole body blaze.
“Yes, Sir,” she replied. She lifted the large T-shirt she wore and he held his breath. Dressed only in a bra and panties, she stood before him. Her skin gleamed golden in the lamplight and she met his gaze, lifting her hand to her neck and tracing her collar. That act pulled all of his nerves taut.
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“Damn, you’re a sight.”
“If you catch the door, I’ll go one better. Could you, stud?” It was all he could do to back the few feet away from her and close her bedroom door.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, mesmerized by her body. He’d imagined her naked as he’d fucked her every which way in his dirty imagination today. And now that she was almost unclothed, standing here and staring down at her was so much better than anything he’d done in his fantasies.
His cock jerked in his jeans. He reached down and pulled off one boot, then the other, not stopping until he stood buck naked in front of her. His dick stood out between them, throbbing to have her wrapped around him. “Take off the bra,” he said hoarsely.
She licked her rosy lips, her hips inches from the crown of his cock, and every nerve in his body screamed to rip off her panties and thrust inside her. He threaded his fingers into her hair, lacing them at the back of her head where her hair was pinned at her nape. One by one, he removed her hairpins, tossing each one onto her nightstand as she lowered the straps of her bra. He held his breath when she unclasped the back and let it fall from her chest. Her breasts were full and her nipples dark, so lush and inviting his dick swelled and twitched from his sharp hunger to drive himself into her and join their bodies.
“Now, those panties. Take them off.” His voice came out husky and swallowing was more than difficult, watching her push the slip of lace down her hips. He drank in the sight of the tiny strip of black curls between her legs, and the way her pussy parted—her pink folds teasing him to the point of breaking.
“Mia, you’re beyond beautiful. Come here.” He spread his palms out over her tits, kneading them, and thumbing her nipples. “I’m going to fuck you like an animal tonight. You okay with that?”
“God, Brandon. After tonight, I need you to. Don’t hold back on me.” Mia pushed her breasts up against his hands, but she wasn’t just into her own pleasure. She reached out to him, grasping his dick between her palms, and flicking her finger at the sensitive skin under his crown. The feel of her pert nipples elongating between his fingers and her warm touch on his dick had him coming undone.
