by India Kells
Deep breath after deep breath, she tried to bring her mind to the present, to the club, to her weird new friends, but it didn’t work.
When Lilianne tugged Sebastian for another dance and Margot was in conversation with her handsome stranger, Mac decided it was the perfect exit for her. They wouldn’t even notice she was gone.
As the club’s door closed behind her, her eardrums thanked her for the relative quietness of the street at night. The air was cool, closer to cold and she shivered. It was a ten-minute stroll back to her apartment, but she waited for a moment, trying to analyze her latest freak out. After a while, her faulty instinct calmed down and she started walking. It didn’t take ten steps for her to notice a pair of eyes assessing her as she approached what seemed to be an alley. Her energy changed for her familiar awareness mode.
Was he the one her radar ticked about? This wasn’t one of Calvi’s men, they would never have been so obviously visible.
Discreetly, she moved her shoulders. If this was a stalker, he would be in for a surprise.
As she passed the alley, in the corner of her eyes, she detected more than one silhouette. So those bastards hunted women in pack.
Mac forced herself to relax and wait for them to snatch her before making her move.
As expected, the creep grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the dark alley. For show, she even managed to yelp. They wanted a frightened, helpless flower, she could give them that to start.
Shoved hard against a dumpster, she was quickly circled by four men, quite young, early twenties, and they weren’t coeds fooling around, not with the knife at her throat and the guns at their belts.
Their apparent leader came nearer, his red hood down, his head so close, he sniffed her neck. “Hey, pretty, pretty. I wanted a bit of red tonight, and my wish was granted. You differ from your usual pattern. We’ve been observing you for weeks, and I might say it was good of you to dress up for us.”
Despite the situation, Mac was relieved that her radar wasn’t broken after all. The man before her was tall but lanky, wisps of dark hair framing his youthful face. The two others were bulkier. However, she knew for a fact that big muscles in civilians would make them slower. The fourth one guarded the entrance of the alley and she could see his face.
“Are you a real copperhead? Please say yes.”
The men laughed as she swiftly removed her heels.
“I’m afraid you’ll never know, pretty boy.”
The nickname made hoodie angry and he reached for her. Mac caught his wrist and twisted it, forcing the young man to let go of his knife. All men froze for a moment, but Mac knew they wouldn’t remain stunned for long.
A punch to his nose and spurting blood flipped the power play as the man whined and dropped to his knees. One down, three to go. No time to grab the knife, she elbowed thug number two in the chest, and kicked his knee. Thug number three drew his gun, but she was faster and kneed him in the groin. When he doubled over, his weapon fell. As she was about to reach it, a familiar click sounded near her head.
“Don’t move, bitch.”
Slowly, Mac lifted her arms and turned to the fourth man. The weapon was but an inch from her forehead, and the steadiness of his hand confirmed that he was serious. Her eyes adjusted and detected a fifth man making his way into the alley. She couldn’t discern features, his face in the shadow, but the slight limp made her lock her jaw. Damn it. Wes.
“I won’t move. But I advise you to drop your gun now.” The man smiled as the shadow overcame him.
“You’re funny. Too bad you won’t be laughing when I get you beneath me.”
As she glanced over his shoulder, Wesley attacked. He disabled the man from behind and she reached for his weapon. Before he could even realize what had happened, the thug was slipping unconscious to the ground. Two out, two in pain, she had worse results.
Wesley looked around, and in darkness, she saw that he was all dressed up. So it seemed he had changed his mind about joining them at the club. Before she could analyze it further, he grabbed his phone from his vest pocket and handed it to her.
“Call the police, before they crawl out of here.”
So no questions. That couldn’t be good. And again, still none when the cops came to take their statements and cuff the four fools.
Several times, the cops thanked Wesley for defending Mac, for protecting her against those low-life criminals. And when one of them realized he was in the Navy, a small crowd of uniforms surrounded him.
Mac knew when to take advantage of an escape. Wesley was caught, but definitely noticed her leaving. Questions would be asked. Some she would rather evade again. Too bad she doubted Wesley Sorenson would let her get away without answering a few of his own this time.
Chapter 9
When she came back from her nightly delivery, and after a punishing run through the sleeping city, Mac almost collapsed on the floor when she closed the door behind her. The painful hum of her throbbing muscles erased quite effectively any remnant of lingering thoughts. For the last weeks, she pushed herself even further in the hope of keeping a level head when she wasn’t worrying about Calvi or trying to avoid Wesley Sorenson at any cost. And she didn’t understand why he didn’t corner or contact her since the attack. Maybe it was for the best. The more she touched him, the less sensible she became. She had to stay sharp, focused. When he was within reach, it took all her strength to see him out without touching him. Time to stand by her resolution. Anyway, Wesley was doing better, there had been no need to pursue their sessions. There was nothing her massage therapy could help him with now, apart from leaving them both breathless, and frustrated.
Only two last deliveries before her contract was up with the coffee shop. Their current baker was coming back and they didn’t know if they would need her anymore. Well, not on a steady schedule anyway. Probably it was for the better. The months of working for them had been a blessing. A way to remain sane as she was waiting on what wouldn’t come.
And maybe that door closed to open a window. Her mind was set. She would move and find Calvi before he would smoke her out. Not that she didn’t trust Gabrielle, but keeping on the sidelines wouldn’t force Calvi out of his hole.
Mac dragged herself in a hot shower and remained under the blistering spray for a long time, her mind carefully and peacefully blank. When she came out, the night was still young and apart from physical fatigue, she wasn’t really tired. Instead, she dressed again in jeans and heather gray sweater and twisted her hair in a tight bun on top of her head before stepping on the back balcony. The air was cool and damp, and the sky clear. Some stars shone brightly, enough to glitter despite the city’s lights.
As the balcony didn’t have any chair, Mac decided to sit directly on the wooden floor, her back to the brick wall, admiring the sky, taking deep breaths of humid air.
The night was clear and she had nowhere to go. She thought about the people downstairs—Margot, Lilianne, and Sebastian.
At what time did they end their shift? At that question, Mac smiled. They were far from any worker she had known. In the last month, she had gone out with them—for coffee or dinner—and she was glad for their wicked sense of humor. They were an entertaining bunch, reminding her of her team at Purgatory during the few downtimes they had together. Although preferring to keep to herself, the group was a necessity for her balance, too. Drawn to the thought of some amusement and good company, she decided to see if they were there, and perhaps free to go out. Discreetly, of course. Mac made sure to choose restaurants or coffee shops away from the more crowded or touristy areas. Going out was always risky, but she needed the change of settings sometimes.
The back door of the club at the bottom of the stairs was locked. Not that it was a problem for her. It was quite basic, more capitalizing on the solidity of the door than its electronic system. It took her only a minute to break in.
The office door where she had met Wesley for the first time was shut. She wondered if he was there, replac
ing his brother until his return. Or brooding as he was so good at it, or still angry at her for that stint in the alley. Not letting herself being drawn to the pull of seeing him once more which would bring more questions than she was comfortable with, she decided to continue. The place was unusually bright and from a distance, she heard laughter. Lilianne’s. It must have come from the lounge. Easily remembering her way, she opened the tufted door. Again, the room was as illuminated as in the middle of the day. She caught a glimpse of the trio at the bar, clearly in a casual mode. Gone was the latex and leather and the smell of lemon lingered in the air. Cleaning must have been completed, too.
“Am I intruding?” She kept her voice low and nonchalant, not wanting to surprise them.
All three heads turned and Lilianne squealed in delight. She jumped up and clapped her hands as she rushed to Mac.
“Margot and Sebastian were discussing to go and get you! This must be telepathy!”
Mac laughed. “I would say coincidence instead.”
Margot winked at her as Sebastian grabbed her other hand and kissed her. She sat back on her stool and eyed her from head to toe as Mac joined them. “From the look of Wesley Sorenson lately, I’m tempted to say that you may have reached more than an understanding. He’s less on our backs, even more agreeable than usual. Anything you wanna share with the group, girlfriend?”
“Nothing lurid. I helped with his thigh a while back, that’s all. Less pain may have changed his behavior.”
“What do you mean, help?”
“I’m a qualified deep-muscle massage therapist. Some course I took a long time ago and that I never thought I would ever use except on myself. I proposed to speed-up his recovery.”
Sebastian nodded. “I’m ready to confirm you have magic hands. He doesn’t limp as badly as before. It’s barely discernible now. And only with your sessions. I dare say that if you want to use your talent on me, my body is at your disposal.”
“Are you hurting, Sebastian?”
“Only when I lay my eyes upon you, always, mi corazon.” The charmer wasn’t very far.
“I fear that you wouldn’t like the type of massage I give. There is nothing soothing or sensual about it. On the contrary.”
Lilianne pushed Sebastian aside, cutting his seduction short. “Stop that, Seb. What I really want to know is what he looks like naked. Wesley, of course.”
Sebastian frowned, but Margot laughed. “Massaging his thigh doesn’t mean she has seen him naked.”
The blonde pixie pouted. “I’m not dumb, but she would have seen his legs. Naked legs. So! Tell me all about them.”
Mac leaned forward, and in a conspirator’s tone said, “I’ve seen him almost completely naked. Apart from his briefs.”
Lilianne licked her lips. “Don’t stop. Not now!”
Grinning, Mac shook her head as she pushed back from the bar. “Professional code, I’m bound by secrecy.”
Lilianne groaned as Sebastian and Margot laughed.
The breathtakingly handsome dominant turned to Mac. “Is there a reason why you came to visit us in our humble house of pain?”
“To be honest, I was bored.”
All of a sudden, the air changed around Sebastian, heat caught his eyes. “Ah! A very dangerous state of mind. Especially here. In this place, with us, you will definitely never get bored.”
Margot arched an elegant brow. “Did you come here simply to chat or you’re interested in …”
Understanding her allusion, Mac lifted her hands. “No, not that! I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to try what you’re doing here. No. Although I wouldn’t mind a tour. When I first visited, I peeked behind some doors, but I would rather have an official tour. If you would like, of course.”
Lilianne’s smile turned upside down. “I’m so very sorry, but I have an appointment with a potential customer.”
Margot put a hand on the shoulder of her blonde friend. “No problem, I’m free.”
Sebastian winked at her. “A pleasure to show you around, dulzura.”
Margot cleared her throat and shook her head as Lilianne kissed Mac’s cheek and made a quick exit, waving at her two friends, her eyes lingering a little more than usual on the Latin charmer.
Sebastian turned to Margot. “So head or tail on which one of us is showing Mac around?”
“What about both of you show me around?” Mac had no intention of being alone with Sebastian, and certainly not in any of the rooms.
Margot nodded, approvingly. “Yeah, a good way of keeping your virtue intact. I like it.”
Sebastian ignored the teasing and hooked Mac’s arm around his. “At the Wolf’s Den, the customers can simply come for a drink, engage in social activities, rent one of the playpens for their personal pleasure, or book an appointment with one of the full or part-time dominants on staff.”
As if a king showing his castle, he led her through the padded doors, Margot following behind. “There are many doors, each for a thematic room. We try to fulfill every fantasy within ethical and legislative boundaries.”
“I thought this kind of activity was prohibited by law.”
Sebastian’s grin widened. “There is no sex in here. Well, not really. Many fantasies don’t necessarily involve sex. And if does, what happened between consenting adults, behind closed doors …”
Margot stopped beside one of the green doors. “It’s a very gray zone for all of us. Societies evolve, so are the laws, but as our preferences are not widely accepted, we are at one step of worlds of problems. In the meantime, we enjoy what we do.”
With flourish, she opened the door. Mac froze as she was thrown into a room from the Victorian era. Not any room, a bedroom out of a high luxury brothel. What she imagined as a brothel. Velvet and silk were draped over a poster bed. The bed was immense, dominating the room. Stepping in, Mac started to observe small details. A rope twirling around the wooden post, decorative straps strategically placed, and a chair that could certainly be used for something other than sitting.
Margot walked in beside her and opened one of the drawers to select a beautiful corset. “I like this room. So many possibilities and not as obvious as the dungeon.”
Mac let her fingers follow the carvings of the foot bed that were far from innocent after a closer look. “What do you do in this room?” She didn’t think she actually spoke aloud until she heard Margot purring.
“So many interesting things. Your only limits are your own body and your imagination. Or the one of your master.”
Tearing her gaze from the scene before her, Mac turned to Margot. “So it’s always the dominant-submissive scenario?”
Sebastian nodded. “It’s what we provide here. We cater to a specific clientele, one who knows what they want. More and more people are interested in BDSM, and many are seeking professional services, those who actually know what they’re doing and are offering a safe environment to play out their fantasies.”
Mac gestured around. “Beautiful environment, indeed.”
“The Victorian era attracts a lot of people as many think that it was the birth place of BDSM.”
“Thanks, I didn’t see this room the first time I came in.”
Sebastian quirked an eyebrow. “Which rooms did you visit?”
“One that looked like a stable or barn, one like a plush hammam or harem, and I suppose the one you call the dungeon.”
Margot nodded. “Oh yes, the stable. Very particular fantasy, the one of the pony.”
Mac shook her head. “I’m not sure I want to go into the explanation of that one.”
Sebastian offered his hand. “In that case, let’s go into more familiar grounds.”
She let herself be led out of the room and Sebastian opened another door. The dungeon.
As she remembered, very black and red. The room was enticing as well as menacing. Sebastian let go of her hand and went to sit on the throne at the end of the room. At that moment, she caught a glimpse of the true persona of Sebastian when he donned the
mask of a dominant. His whole body changed, from a flirting seducer to a calculating predator. Mac could understand the attraction. She reacted at a primal level. Margot came around her, letting her hips sway and her hands glide over the polished wood of a strange-looking contraption, more like a curved bench. Despite her casual clothing, Mac also saw how the woman changed. As if sliding into the skin of a new character. It was fascinating. They could be actors if they would have set their minds on that career.
The only problem, Mac wasn’t feeling very submissive. Not when her brain was on murder … and on Calvi for that matter.
Her eyes focused on an X-shaped contraption that was closer to what she would find in history books about the medieval ages. “Try it.” Sebastian had silently come up behind her, hovering.
