by Avery Gale
Knowing his brother, he’d given her a choice, which of course would explain the delay. What he hadn’t expected was the genuine smile that spread across her heart-shaped face when she saw him.
“Oh, look at the pretty dresses, Tucker. Did you help Brock pick these out? I’ve never had a man pick out a dress for me. These are lovely, but I think I’d better look around and find something that will cover a bit more of my ass… ets.”
Tucker crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her. “Valliant attempt to save your ass… ets, but too little and far too late.”
“I think the alcohol is keeping our sub from firing on all cylinders, brother,” Brock chuckled at her confused look. “Seems she has an incredibly low tolerance—something we’ll have to keep a careful watch on.”
“Indeed,” Tuck’s blunt response might have been directed at his brother, but he didn’t take his eyes off the beauty standing in front of him. The white cotton sheet she was draped in clearly outlined the dark rose areolas that were fast becoming tight peaks, reaching out as if seeking his attention. Quickly scanning the three dresses Brock had selected, he grasped the one in the center. He bet the deep sapphire would match her eyes when they darkened with desire. Lifting the hanger off the hook, he returned his attention to Mia.
“Drop the sheet, Kodak.”
To her credit, she only hesitated for an instant before her hands moved to the knot between her breasts. The booze still clouded her eyes, but she met his challenge without flinching or letting her gaze drop from his. With the sheet pooled around her feet, she was breathtakingly beautiful.
“You are gorgeous, sweet cheeks. I can hardly wait to see if I’m right about this color.” Gathering the fabric in his hands, he smiled. “Arms up.” When the dress settled over her, he nodded his approval but noticed her frown.
“It barely covers my backside. And I need underwear. If I bend over or reach for anything, I’m going to flash everyone.” Tucker had seen the contents of her e-reader, so the flicker of recognition in her eyes told him she wasn’t ignorant to the rules of a D/s relationship. If this was a test, he was more than up to the challenge. Bring it, sweet cheeks.
“Baby, every passenger on this ship is either a sexual Dominant or a submissive. I assure you, they will be far more shocked if you are wearing panties than they’ll be seeing that lovely ass and smooth pussy.” Brock was right, but Tuck wasn’t sure Mia was convinced they were committed to the roles they’d already outlined. Hell, the alcohol had probably negated a lot of what they’d outlined earlier.
“No panties. We aren’t doing a scene tonight, but I reserve the right to check your responses to what you’re seeing as we walk around. No one will believe we are your Doms if we let you wear more than this.” He waved his hand at her dress. The fact was she would probably be covered far more than any of the other subs—something he was looking forward to remedying soon enough.
“We’ll have our hands on you, Kodak, you can take that to your grandfather’s bank.” And we’ve already warned you, we will begin as we intend to go. He might not intend to have a long-term relationship with her, but he damned well planned to enjoy the benefits of their arrangement for the short time it would last. He’d always prided himself on being honest—with himself as well as with others, and there was a nagging voice in the back of his mind taunting him that he’d just told himself the mother of all lies.
Tucker watched as she chewed on her lower lip, her eyes searching the room as if a solution was going to magically appear in the small space. He could practically hear her mind whirling as she decided whether this was a battle worth fighting. When she looked to Brock for help, Tucker almost laughed out loud. Why did women always think his brother was the softer touch? While it was true, Brock was more inclined to use charm to persuade a sub, but he had a palm the size of a bear’s paw that could light a sub’s ass on fire. And in the end, they were both dominant to the bone.
“Those pretty pleading eyes won’t work on me baby,” Brock shook his head. “Your safety is too important.”
“She’s read enough about the lifestyle to know the rules, haven’t you sweet cheeks?” Tucker snorted a laugh when she leveled a glare in his direction. “Interesting reading list on your e-reader, Kodak. Very interesting, indeed. And while I don’t advocate fiction reading as an alternative to real-life experience, it certainly goes a long way to introduce the topic.” He closed the distance between them with two purposeful steps.
“We’ll add that glare to your growing list of offenses. Don’t think for a moment that look will be ignored if it takes place in public. Don’t force our hands, Mia. I’d rather our first public scene was negotiated ahead of time, and I think we’ll all enjoy it much more if it’s about pleasure rather than punishment.”
“You’re right.” Mia surprised him when she nodded. “I’m sorry, that was disrespectful. Fruit salad, my grandmother would have batted me on the back of my head for that.” Tucker blinked at her wondering what the hell fruit salad had to do with her grandmother. Waving her hand as if dismissing the obvious question in his eyes, she added, “Lucia Mendez was a lot of things, but tolerant of foul language and disrespect were not at the top of the list. I learned at an early age to use everyday words that clearly did not fit into the conversation to express myself when my friends would have interjected profanity. Much easier than getting smacked.”
“It sounds like your grandmother was a wonderful woman, and we’ll look forward to hearing your creative substitutions for cursing. But right now, I’m hungry and you need to eat something to counteract the tequila and wine.” Tucker smoothed his palm from her shoulder to wrist.
Mia’s entire face lit up, and she excitedly asked, “You have tequila? CeCe and I had tequila shots at the spa, but someone must have complained because all of a sudden, we couldn’t have anymore. CeCe said the walls have eyes and ears. Do you think that’s true? It’s kind of creepy if you ask me. I thought Americans were all about protecting privacy and all that?”
Tucker stared at her in open-mouthed astonishment as his brother cackled with laughter. Shaking his head, Tuck encircled her delicate wrist with his large hand and led her out of the boutique.
Fighting his attraction to Mia was going to be a battle of epic proportions. There was a part of him that wanted to sweep all his reservations to the side and embrace the opportunity to spend uncensored time enjoying a woman’s company for the first time in over a year. The struggle to remain distant hadn’t been difficult until now, but it was easy to see the effort required was going to be exhausting with the dark-haired beauty beside him.
Glancing at Brock, Tucker wanted to roll his eyes at his brother’s satisfied expression. There will be no living with him now. If it doesn’t work out, he’ll blame me. If by some star-crossed miracle it does, he’ll never stop reminding me he was right.
Chapter Seven
Mia was certain they’d stepped into another world as soon as her bare feet crossed the threshold of the motion-activated doors of the ship’s main deck. Stars danced against the black velvet sky, and she sucked in a breath at the beautiful picture.
“It simply steals your breath, doesn’t it, Kodak?”
When she realized her feet had stopped moving, she looked up at Tucker and smiled. “The night sky is always the best show around, but it’s even more spectacular on the water. Without city lights or the cover of trees, you get a real sense of how truly vast and remarkable it is. It makes me feel both insignificant and important at the same time.” Tucker’s brow furrowed, and she understood his confusion.
“There is so much out there… it’s unimaginable how much we don’t know. But at the same time, I feel important because in all the vast array, I’m here, and I can have an impact. Knowing I can affect the vibration of this universe which in turn sets off a chain reaction touching others… well, that makes me rethink everything I say and do. I want to make sure the energy I send out is as positive as possible.”
“That’s beautiful, baby,” Brock’s arms came around her from behind, and he pulled her back against his chest, “and one of the most unselfish things I’ve ever heard anyone say.”
His words warmed her and chased away the cool breeze circling the deck, but she had the feeling Brock’s comment had been intended as much for Tucker as they’d been for her. Mia’s questions about that would have to wait because Tucker gave her a quick tug out of Brock’s embrace and resumed walking.
Cursing her short legs, Mia was suddenly grateful she was barefoot, especially when she looked around to see the killer heels most of the women were wearing. Thank you, guardian angels, for not letting them put me in shoes like those. She’d barely made it down the grand staircase in her grandfather’s mansion for her quinceanera, and the kitten heels she’d worn had paled in comparison to what she was seeing now. Her sweet sixteen party had been one of the worst nights of her life. The entire process had felt more like a first showing at an auction than a coming of age celebration.
When she tripped in her rush to stay abreast of the Deitz brothers, Brock groused at his brother.
“Slow down, asshole. Damn, she’s going to get hurt just trying to keep up. Christ, I’m hungry, too, but there’s no need to race.”
Tucker slowed before pulling open the door to the restaurant. They were seated immediately, the maître d’ giving them a knowing smile when the men pointed to a corner booth, then slid in on either side of her.
Their thighs pressed the full length of her own, warming her bare skin. When their hands settled over her knees, Mia let out a startled gasp. Tucker gave her a quick squeeze she thought was meant as reassurance, but instead, it sent electricity skittering all the way to her quickly dampening sex.
“Are you allergic to anything, Kodak?” Tucker’s question took her by surprise, and she could only stare at him blankly. “Sweet cheeks, it’s not a difficult question. We’re getting ready to order and need to know if there is anything you can’t eat.” The amusement in his voice was vaguely annoying. Blast the man for knowing the effect he had on her.
Feeling like a fool for being confused by the question, she nodded. “Shellfish. I can’t eat any of it. Unfortunately, I like shrimp much more than they like me.” He gave her a quick smile before returning his attention to the menu. When she looked at Brock, she noted he was studying the wine list, and she couldn’t hold back her groan. “I’m not usually a big wine drinker, but CeCe was very persuasive.”
“I have known Dr. Cecelia Barnes for several years,” Brock smiled, “so I’m fully aware of her charm. I’m not planning to order wine tonight, but I was interested in what was available. We never drink before we play, and in our line of work, alcohol is a dangerous distraction. I suspect you don’t drink often either, or you wouldn’t have been so affected by the small amount you had earlier this evening.”
“What you couldn’t see, Kodak, was CeCe throwing back two shots for every one you were having.”
“What? You could hardly tell she’d been drinking… at least until the very end. Good Lord, you all probably think I’m a real amateur.” Shaking her head, she was relieved when the waiter finally appeared with her water. She drained it quickly, setting the empty crystal goblet back on the table before Brock had finished ordering their dinner. The waiter gave her a cheeky grin and discreetly removed her glass to refill it.
By the time their food arrived, they’d asked her dozens of questions about her work. She hadn’t held anything back when they’d asked her about her sources, particularly those related to Senator Tyson.
“Remember, I didn’t know who I was pursuing. I had no idea the American I kept hearing rumors about was a U.S. Senator. I only discovered his name when I searched the internet a few days after meeting him.”
“Why did you chase the story if you didn’t know who the man was?”
She understood Tucker’s skepticism, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to know he didn’t really trust her.
“I’m not sure if I was chasing the story or running.” She cursed herself for muttering the words out loud because even though they’d only been whispered, it was obvious from the shift in Brock and Tucker’s body language they’d heard her. There’s no reason to make this more complicated than it is already, Mia.
She’d had been planning to slip out of the country for over a year. If she was going to take her career to the next level, she needed to be able to travel, but her grandfather’s security team regularly thwarted her plans. She knew her grandfather well enough to recognize his logic. If he made it difficult enough, he hoped she’d give up and accept a position at the bank. What he’d never understood was her creative spirit would wither and die in that environment. She often wondered if her grandfather understood there was a line between protecting and smothering, and both of those concepts were on an entirely different sheet of music from controlling.
Shaking herself out of the melancholy threatening to swamp her, Mia explained, “I sent the pictures because he’d used what little energy he had to give me the pieces of the puzzle.” When they didn’t respond, she added, “I felt like he just wanted someone to know who he was or maybe those were the only fragments he’d been able to retain… I’m not really sure. But if it was important enough for him to drain the last bits of his reserves to tell me…” she let her words trail off because they didn’t sound as convincing now as the emotion had felt when Senator Tyson’s dazed eyes had met hers.
“Have you spoken with his wife?” Mia asked, pulling herself back from the memory of Karl Tyson’s lost expression. “I’ve been worried I completely disrupted her life, but I didn’t feel like it was fair to withhold the information.” It was true. She hadn’t wanted to hurt the other woman, but she didn’t know who else to contact. And she darned well didn’t trust the government… Columbian or United States. Mia had taken pictures for several exposés on government corruption and been shocked by how pervasive it was. Even worse was the discovery that the seedy sides of multiple governments were almost always linked to others through underhanded dealings.
The sudden realization she hadn’t even considered the possibility Brock and Tucker were working for the United States government sent a white-hot bolt of fear through her. Mia couldn’t believe she’d been so careless to blindly trust two men who were obviously well-trained soldiers. A wave of panic stole her breath, and all she could think about was escaping until she had time to find out who she was dealing with.
*
Brock watched helplessly as Mia’s entire demeanor shift between one heartbeat and the next, and he had no idea what had triggered the change. The look of wild panic in her eyes baffled him. Nothing they’d discussed should have set her off. She shoved against him, then turned to Tucker before he saw her glance at the table. Oh no, baby, you are not going to scamper under the table like a frightened rabbit.
“Stop.” He’d intentionally used a sharp tone, hoping to shock her back into focus. She froze in place giving him the few seconds he needed to grasp her upper arm and turn her until they were face to face. Naturally submissive, aren’t you baby?
“Tell us what happened.” Brock watched her eyes searching frantically around the room and knew he was losing her attention. “Eyes on me, pet. There’s a good girl. Now, don’t try to edit your answer, just tell us exactly what that was about.”
“Who do you work for?” What? Seriously? Who the hell did she think they worked for?
“We are private contractors working for Kent and Kyle West’s Prairie Winds team. We specialize in hostage rescues or any other mission that appeals to us.”
Tucker turned her ever so slightly, using his fingers to tilt her chin until her eyes met his.
“We were Navy SEALs, Kodak, but we like being able to do the jobs we feel are important instead of doing Uncle Sam’s dirty work.” It was Tuck’s explanation that had her letting out a deep breath and sagging like a wilting balloon. “Did you think we worked for the government, sweet cheeks?” W
hen she nodded, Tucker grinned. “I’ve seen some of your work, Kodak, and I’d be willing to bet you don’t have much faith in any government.”
Brock watched as her eyes went wide before she sighed and nodded her head in reluctant agreement.
“No, I don’t trust governments in general, and I don’t think you should trust yours either, especially when it comes to Senator Tyson. All the rumors I heard indicated there were U.S. agents involved in his captivity. They have known all along he survived the plane crash.”
Brock was stunned by her revelation, but it actually made perfect sense. He knew Kyle West suspected the CIA was, at the very least, aware of the rumors about a survivor. In Brock’s opinion, the fact they hadn’t investigated was reason enough to make them suspect.
*
Karl Tyson leaned his shoulder against the warm tile of the shower wall and sent up silent prayers of thanks for the hot water sluicing over his body. After almost a year as a hostage, he hadn’t thought he would ever be clean again. He may have traded one form of captivity for another, but at least this one came with a luxury suite. Karl appreciated the improvement in his surroundings, but what he didn’t enjoy was the increasing number of hours each day he couldn’t account for. His memory faded in and out, but the face of an angel with blonde hair and blue eyes was always the same when it floated through his dreams. In some dreams, she was smiling, but in others, she appeared frustrated or angry. And no matter how hard he tried, he hadn’t been able to remember her name—hell, he wasn’t even sure she was real.
Stepping from the shower, he dried himself and dressed in the clothes laid out for him. He wasn’t sure which attendant was on duty today, but he hoped it was the woman. He couldn’t remember her name, but she did a better job of ordering their food and didn’t care what they watched on television. Before leaving the bathroom, he dropped to the floor and did ten push-ups. Not impressive, but certainly more than the one he managed the first day he’d arrived at the hotel. He wasn’t sure why it felt so important, but something had compelled him to begin exercising his first day out of the chains he’d worn for a year.
