by Dace Everan
She let the papers float from her hand and slumped back into her leather chair, swivelling around, and stared out the tinted window at the city in front of her. She could see Laird’s building from hers. She smirked. She should really call him and request his assistance, but she was sure he would come. Unless of course he was still dealing with that undercover shit he had been doing for the last few months. She was sure he would be calling to know what in the hell was going on before he sat in on a meeting, and her smile broadened as her phone rang. She reached back, pressing the speaker phone.
“Yes,” she answered.
“Mr. Roan on line one,” echoed Sheila’s soft voice from the line.
“Thank you, Sheila.”
Lania swung her chair around and picked up the receiver. “Laird,” she greeted.
“Lania, I hear I am requested to be in your office this afternoon.”
Lania’s smile broadened. She loved the way he was so coy about it. “It would be appreciated.”
“All righty, as long as you fill me in on why Cal has been in my office every day this week looking for his Mistress and trying to find out where the hell she lives? I thought you two were more serious than this, Lania?”
Lania cleared her throat. “What is between me and Cal is really none of your business, Laird. As for him being in your office, feel free to tell him to leave you alone. He knows when to stop bothering people,” she assured him.
Laird’s deep chuckle echoed through her spacious office. “You might want to do a little research on your precious pet, my dear. He is not the type of man to easily give up or know when to stop bothering people.”
“Yes, well, that’s beside the point. I need your opinion on my sales and would appreciate your presence this afternoon,” she quickly shot in, knowing Laird could easily take over the conversation and keep it on Cal and her. She hoped he wouldn’t.
Laird grunted. He knew when he was being told to shut the hell up, and this was Lania’s polite way of doing so. “Yes, well, we’ll discuss this matter later I suppose…He has been at the club every night this week…Wendy had a go-round with him last night.”
Lania’s lips twitched. Wendy was a sadist. There was no reason for Cal to be messing with her. He could get hurt. She was far beyond what Cal wanted or needed. She cleared her throat. “Laird…Cal and I are over. Anything he does now is his call. If he wants what Wendy has to offer, that is what he wants,” she replied, her voice void of any emotion.
Chapter Three
Laird stared at the phone and harrumphed. He wanted to call Lania and give it to her, but knew it wouldn’t help. It had been a long time since he’d seen this side of her. He looked at the huge wooden door of his office and knew Cal sat out there yet again. It was nearing four and he had been consistent on his appearances this week. Of course, Cal’s shift at the precinct enabled him to come by at this time every day. Odd hours the man had. The knock came and Laird gave the same nod to his secretary, allowing Cal in. “Afternoon, Cal,” he greeted with a somber smile.
“Afternoon, Master Laird,” he replied, nodding to the seat across from Laird.
Laird gave a slight tilt to his head, giving Cal permission to sit, taking note of the shiny purse in the man’s rather large hands. He had liked that about Lania and Cal, the fact that the six-foot-and-some-tall beast of a man let lithe little Lania take him and control him the way she had.
“You haven’t gotten a hold of your Mistress yet?” he asked, relaxing back into his seat as Cal took his seat.
“No…I went to her.” He paused, looking at Laird. He knew Laird came from money, but he had had no idea Lania had. Maybe his thoughts of her not wanting to be with him were right. Maybe she wanted something richer. He clenched his teeth. Either way, when he had come upon her immaculate home on the outskirts of the city and saw the black, wrought-iron gates and the manicured paved driveway he knew she was way out of his league. There was no way she would ever settle with a mere detective.
He snorted with disgust and placed the clutch on Laird’s desk. “If you could return this to Mistress Lania, I would greatly appreciate it. Normally I wouldn’t just leave something like this with anyone, but I know how close you two are.”
Laird narrowed his eyes. Cal was giving up? What in hell was wrong with the man? If he knew Cal’s calibre of man, those types didn’t just give up. He pushed the purse back toward Cal. “Tell me what the hell happened,” he ordered. He had gone to Lania’s meeting and she had played Miss aloof princess with him, and he hadn’t talked to her since.
Cal looked Laird in the eye. It was something he had never done in the three years of attending his club. “I…I think I terrified her,” he replied quietly.
Laird frowned. “Terrified Lania? Pshaw, no one terrifies that woman,” he assured the man.
Cal shook his head. “I saw her watching the other subs in the club. I saw her respond…” He paused, inhaling a steady breath. “I…I had no right to make that call and I should not have acted on it. I shouldn’t have pushed her. It’s not my job to take the lead and take her to a place she doesn’t even want to be. It’s her job to take me and do as she sees fit.”
Laird sat back in shock. This was not what he had expected. Wow. Cal had taken the initiative to take Lania to a place she had no desire to go. “Cal.”
“No, I know what I did wrong, and I can’t go to her and she won’t come to me for me to apologize. If she wants it cut like this I will comply,” he replied, pushing the purse back at Laird. He stood. “You can tell her she can come back here. I won’t be attending your club any longer. I cancelled my membership.”
Laird stood. “Cal. I will arrange a meeting for the two of you. Lania knows better than to leave her sub hanging like this. What ever happened between the two of you, you two will fix.”
Cal shook his head, taking a step back away from the overpowering man. “No, if you could just get that back to her I would greatly appreciate it. Besides, it’s time I returned to duty and paid more attention to that than myself.” He turned on his heel and stalked from the room.
There, it was done. He could return back to his life and Lania could return to hers and they could just do whatever it was they were supposed to do. His gut twisted, and deep down he knew this was the wrong ending for them.
* * * *
Lania stalked through the busy headquarters, her gaze narrowing in on the glass surrounding a specific office toward the back. His blinds were shut and the door was closed. She ignored the catcalls and her chin notched higher as she proceeded through the office full of men and women dressed in second-class suits.
She rapped on the glass of the door, reading the title. Detective Callahan Bines. She raised a sharp eyebrow. Shit, after three years she had no idea what Cal did for a living, just that he kept in exceptional shape and followed orders immaculately. She had always figured he was a weight trainer of some sort.
Her heart skipped a beat as the door swung open and she was face-to-thick-neck with him. She raised her gaze and her knees nearly buckled. Bright blue eyes met hers. The lines around his mouth seemed deeper, his face sunken in. Had he lost weight? He looked stressed. She wondered if she looked the same way. She sure felt the way he looked. Who would have thought a mere few weeks could change a person so drastically?
Seeing Cal in this place felt different. It was different. Here he ordered people around. “Cal,” she greeted.
Cal cleared his throat. “Mr. Roan returned your belongings?” he asked, not moving to allow her in.
Lania nodded, furrowing her brow. It wasn’t like him not to let her pass. She peeked around him and saw the stunning redhead at his desk. Her stomach clenched and she shot him a narrow-eyed look. “I didn’t realize you were busy,” she replied haughtily.
Cal frowned, glancing back at Julia at his desk. What the hell? “I’m with an eyewitness right now. I don’t have time to talk right this minute.”
“Yes I see that,” Lania replied, clearing her throa
t and readying to turn.
Cal reached out, grasping her elbow in a loose grip. “I’m sorry, Lania. What I did was wrong,” he proclaimed, studying her face for a second. Nothing, no response, just blank green eyes staring back at him.
“You’re busy,” she murmured, shrugging her arm from him.
Cal grunted as she turned from him and made a beeline for the front entrance. He glanced back at Julia. “Jules, can you just wait a minute? Be right back.”
Jules gave a nod, wiping her nose with the tissue he had given her.
Cal caught up to her on the side of the building as she was unlocking the door of her car. “Lania,” he called, easing to a stroll as he approached her.
“Look, Cal, you’re busy. I’m busy. Thank you for returning my belongings.”
“I went to your home.” He stopped behind her and waited for her to turn to him. He took note of the rigidness of her stature. “If you were done with me you should have said something, Lania.”
Lania turned on him, eyes blazing with hurt and anger. “I wasn’t done with you!” she retorted, trying to keep her voice low so his fellow colleagues wouldn’t overhear them. How could he think she was done with him? Fuck, she lived for their days together, their nights. Goodness, to have a man who was happy just for oral release and didn’t expect her to bend over and have him fuck her was a blessing for her. That was one of the positives to their relationship.
Cal grunted. “Could’ve fooled me. Weeks I’ve been trying to get a hold of you. I went to the club every night.”
“Huh! Yeah I heard you went. How is Wendy?”
Cal rolled his eyes. “Don’t even, Lania. You know better.”
Lania snorted, turning back to her car, pulling on the door handle to open it. She slid easily into her seat.
Cal positioned his large frame in her door, stopping her from closing it. He crouched low and faced her. “I made the wrong call. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I thought it was something you wanted.” He released a heavy breath. “You told me once we only share what we’re ready to experience. I was ready to experience something more. I thought you were, too. I’m sorry I pushed you.”
Lania stared out the front windshield of her corvette and took in his words. The lump in her throat swelled and tears burned her eyes. She’d been a friggin’ wreck the last week and couldn’t help herself anymore. The dreams had returned and the night terrors, and shit, she missed spending most of her nights in his small, comfy little apartment.
Cal saw the tears, saw the tension around her mouth, and pulled her from the car into his lap. The sobs tore at his heart and he crushed her in his embrace. “Shit, Lania. I’m sorry I hurt you or scared you. I had no intention of doing that. I didn’t think I would scare you.”
Lania shook her head and struggled to get from his grasp. “Let me go, Cal.” She sobbed softly, pushing at his chest.
Cal grasped her and stared her in the face. “Lania.” He couldn’t let her go. Not in this state.
Lania shook her head, swiping at the tears sliding down her face. “I have to go, Cal. You have your girl in your office.”
“No, Lania. We need to talk,” he demanded.
Lania nodded. He was right. They did. Neither of them would rest until it was ended properly. “My house, tonight, nine, if you can,” she whispered, pushing his hands away, slipping from his lap and back into her seat.
“Nine o’clock. I’ll be there,” he assured.
Lania nodded, retrieving a silk handkerchief from her clutch and wiping at her face.
It tore at Cal’s heart to see his Mistress like this.
* * * *
Lania stared out the large, open windows of her front sitting area. Eight fifty and her heart pounded. She glanced back at the entrance at the soft footfalls. “Jarden,” she greeted.
“Mistress Lania. You have a guest.”
Lania nodded. “You may send him here. Please offer refreshment.”
Jarden nodded, bowing out of the room.
Cal took note of every room they passed through and by. The older, stout man kept his back straight, not a silver hair out of place, and he wondered what the man was to Lania.
“Are you sure, Mr. Bines, that you would not like a drink of any sort?”
“No thank you,” he replied, eyeing the open door they were approaching.
Jarden came to a stop just inside the door and announced Cal’s arrival.
Cal searched the enormous room and found her standing in front of the large expanse of windows that looked over the brightly lit city. “Thank you, Jarden. If you could close the doors,” she called.
Jarden nodded.
Cal watched as the older man closed the doors, backing from the room. “Wow. I think I’ve only seen that in the movies,” he replied, not sure what he was supposed to do here. He had always had her tell him what to do and how to do it. They were on her territory and he was lost here.
Lania motioned for him to enter the room. “Yes, Jarden does it just to annoy me I’m sure,” she murmured, taking a seat on the chaise, motioning for Cal to sit at the end.
Cal did so with discomfort. He wished he had at least changed out of his street clothes. He looked her over. Elegance was what Lania was. A sheer, silver, low-cut blouse hugged her lithe figure, emphasizing her lush breasts. A black, slick-looking skirt hugged her round hips, and shit, he wished he could see her naked. “Pig” came to mind at his own thoughts.
Weeks of not seeing her and the first thing he wanted to do was push her back on the stupid half-chair-couch thing she was sitting on, shove her skirt up, and eat her sweet pussy then fuck it. Shit, he’d never had sex with her in all the years she had been his Mistress. His gaze met hers and she had a smirk on her face.
“I know when a man wants to rip my clothes off and fuck me, Cal. I would greatly appreciate it if you didn’t.” She released a haughty breath and looked him over. “Your calibre of man would not do well with the consequences of those actions,” she replied.
Cal raised a brow. Was she sharing something important here? He was a detective, and from that bit of information, he could take that a few ways. The first and foremost that shot into his brain was his Lania was a rape victim. His eyes narrowed.
“Yeah…I remember that look on the officer’s eyes when he found me. How dare the same gender as him do such atrocities to a weaker gender?” She snorted.
Cal held up his hands. “Whoa, you need to slow down here, Lania. I have no intentions of ripping off your clothes and fucking you. Even if it is what I want,” he clarified. “Second. If you have a case that needs solving I am here for you, but—”
Lania snorted. “Cal, I am made of money. The men were found and have been put where they belong,” she assured.
Cal nodded. “All right, then why? Why drop this on me?”
Lania looked away. It was a valid question and she should answer him. She had wanted to tell him why she was the Mistress and why she never shared her body with him sexually, wanted him to understand why she could not take him towering over her, holding her down and taking her against her will.
Cal shifted loser. “Lania, nothing would have happened that you didn’t want to happen,” he assured.
Lania snorted. “You need to know some things about my past, Cal.”
She stood and crossed the room to the bar. Shit, this was the most she had drunk in the past three years. She poured herself a half glass of whiskey and glanced back at Cal. “You’re not on duty, are you?” she asked.
Cal shook his head. “No, off till tomorrow night.”
Lania nodded, pouring him one. She was sure he, like any other man, would need to have a drink after what she was about to share.
Chapter Four
Cal took the drink and waited and watched as she crossed the room to an ornate-looking desk, opening the top drawer and pulling out an envelope. His eye caught the sway of her hips as she returned to him. His gaze met hers and his cheeks flushed as she smirked at him. She was
good at watching him, catching him doing things he shouldn’t be doing.
Lania softened her smile, handing him the envelope. “There are reasons I pursue the lifestyle I do, Cal.” She took a sip of her whiskey, nodding for him to open the envelope.
Cal swallowed the lump in his throat. He didn’t like this. It was the same envelopes he received at work. Usually they were full of nasty pictures of women who had been used and killed in animalistic ways. He put his glass down on the floor between his feet and opened the envelope. He pulled out the files, taking note of the pictures paper-clipped to them.
He set aside the write-up and went immediately to the pictures. His brow furrowed at the victim lying sprawled out, tied to the bed. Red welts marred pasty white flesh. This woman had been victimized in a horrid way.
“Who is she?” he asked, looking at the bleached-blonde hair splayed out around the bruised face. Her wrists and ankles were in chains, and not the nice ones his own had been in when Lania had chained him up. These chains in the pictures were rusty and rough-looking. They had definitely made the woman bleed.
“Me.”
Cal’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach and then his stomach churned.
Lania smiled kindly at him. She was sure it was the same sympathetic smile her mother gave to those who were in need of assurance that all was good and okay. “It happened years ago. Decade, actually.” She shrugged, meeting his gaze. “I was young and stupid. I thought I knew what I was doing.”
Cal shook his head. “What the hell happened? This woman looks dead!”
Lania chuckled. It was a familiar chuckle to Cal, one that told a person how silly they were. “They had drugged me. I barely felt anything,” she murmured, avoiding the sight of the pictures. It was a lie, a lie she told everyone so they wouldn’t pity her. Well, besides her psychiatrist, her doctor, and Laird. It was how she met Laird. Her psychiatrist was a member at his club and when she revealed why she had been at the warehouse in the first place he had sent her to Laird.
