Lace Underground: The Complete Trilogy

by Oliver, Tess

  Suddenly, the dress and ponytail work. I'm sixteen again and vying for the attention of the cutest boy at the dance. I walk to one of the men who still seems to be without a match for the night. He's tall, with ramrod straight posture and gray at the temples. He reminds me of Mr. Drucker, the high school chemistry teacher. I had a crush on the man with his pocket-sized periodic table and white lab coat. And his laugh. It was a great booming laugh.

  I add a little extra sway to my hips to make the skirt of the dress flip flirtatiously around my thighs. I don't need to look back to know my movement has caught Kane's eye. My pussy tingles at the thought of him watching me move toward another man. Only for a split second do I remind myself that I'm in an investigation and not a pawn in a wild sex game. The reality falls easily away and is replaced by the latter. I want to be a pawn in his game. My head is clear but Kane still has control over me. All my thoughts center around him. All my actions are to garner a reaction from him.

  "Good evening. I'm Tawny," I say politely and then follow the greeting up with a none too discrete lick of my bottom lip. It seems the gesture has done its trick. His gaze drops directly to my mouth.

  "Hello, I'm Chad." His hand is large and warm as it wraps around mine. "So you're the new girl?" His voice falls off on the last word and his attention is drawn to someone behind me.

  "Yes, she is." Kane's voice sends an instant shiver through me. It is dry and sharp, letting me know he's not happy with me. "If you'll excuse us," he tells Chad. "Miss Smith was just about to leave." I've never heard him use my alias surname before. It reminds me of my dad using my middle name when telling me that I'd done something wrong. Kane doesn't take hold of my arm to lead me away. Instead, he loops his finger through the ring on my wrist cuff.

  My feet hit the floor fast and hard as Kane drags me along toward one of the guards. My heart is beating in my throat. His anger is palpable. "Please escort Miss Smith back to her room."

  "I thought I was invited to the party." I face him but his cold glare makes me turn away. When I get the courage to look back at him, I find that he's walking away. Beneath the white shirt, his shoulders are tight with tension. His arms are straight at their sides with hands balled in fists.

  Like a palace guard, my escort doesn't look down at me. I follow behind him through the party. Eve looks pleased to see me being led out of the festivities. I have no doubt that she has been watching the entire scene play out, including Kane leading me around by one of my leather shackles like I was his prisoner. I am his prisoner. And some dark part of me, a place that has been awakened by the nectar and by the man himself, is thrilled to be his captive. But it seems I may have just flirt teased my way out of the Lace Underground and out of his clutches. That might just be a good thing. The longer I stay here, under his control, the more I lose my grip on reality. The more he pulls me into his seductive world.

  The guard is frighteningly big as I walk behind him down the narrow hallway to my bedroom. He says nothing as he pulls out his key card and unlocks my door. The door slams shut behind me.

  I kick off my shoes and walk barefoot to the bed. I sit on the end of it and hug myself against the chills that have started to wrack my body. The earlier aspirin has worn off and my head and body ache from withdrawals. It has only been a week but the nectar is so strong it has my body in the grips of addiction.

  I look back at the locked door and wonder who will walk through it next. I decide not to allow myself to come up with possible grim scenarios and solidify in my head that the worst and truly best thing that can happen is that he tells one of his oversized lackeys to drop me back on the streets.

  Only the next person to come through the door is not Blake or one of the guards. It's Kane.

  31

  Kane

  My plan to get rid of her, to send her off for good lasted all of one minute. The rage that filled me just seeing her do nothing more than talk to another man assured me that I am my father's son. I have spent years trying to distance myself from the possibility but when she walked into my life, I knew my efforts had been in vain.

  The door pushes open. She is sitting on the foot of the bed holding herself. She is in the throes of withdrawal. This time the fear in her face is not accompanied by the insatiable lust. It is just fear. Cold fear and I'm the object of her terror. That does not stop me from marching into the room.

  I walk straight to the bathroom and to the supply of nectar. I return with the syringe. She doesn't fight me or turn away. Her body won't allow her mind to say no. Earlier I avoided touching her, using her leather cuff to lead her away from the leering stares of the club members. Now I take hold of her hand. Her body is trembling and her arm shakes, but she doesn't pull it from my grasp.

  "Why did you skip a dose?" I say as I stab the needle into her smooth skin.

  "I wanted to be able to talk with the people at the party. I wanted to be clear headed when I met your friends." Her voice wavers back and forth like feathery strands of grass in the wind. "I refused it so don't be angry with Blake. It's my fault."

  "Those aren't my friends. They are clients." I still haven't decided how I feel about Blake's decision not to give her the dose. At the moment, it's not important. She's the only thing that matters right now.

  A deep shiver runs through her body as the nectar seeps into her bloodstream. A sigh of relief pushes from her lips as the drug warms her, eases her pains. I dedicated my professional life to creating the substance. Now it has repaid me with her. She is mine.

  Her head lulls back and her eyes drift shut as her tensions melt away. "Is that why you're so mad at me?" Her words stretch out slow. "I thought it was because I talked to other men at the party." She opens her eyes and blinks up at me. "I thought you were through with me. I thought you were giving me to the club mem—"

  She gasps as I take hold of both her arms and yank her to her feet.

  "That will never happen." I grab the fabric on her dress and I rip it open. It slips to her feet leaving her in just a pair of panties. She instinctively crosses her arms in defense.

  I take hold of her hands and lift them out and away from her body. "Don't ever deny me a look at you." My gaze rakes over her naked body. A million ideas of what I want to do to her shoot through my twisted mind. And there are no longer any doubts that I am twisted. She has done it. She's unleashed the obsessive madman that has been hiding out, waiting for the right person to come along and release him.

  I lift her over my shoulder and carry her to the wall. Her eyes don't leave my face as I secure her leather cuffs to the hook above her head. Some of the earlier fear has been replaced by desire. I know I can't give myself credit. It's the nectar. The drug lets her see me through an erotic filter. She sees the man who can help her quench what seems to be an insatiable appetite for sex. But I allow myself the fantasy of thinking it's me and me alone that she craves. Just like I crave her. Only I need no elixir, no aphrodisiac. She is my special drug.

  She responds to her hands being secured by arching her back and pushing her breasts higher. A soft, appreciative mewl follows when I reach down and pinch her nipples between my thumb and forefinger. She is writhing between my unforgiving body and the hard wall. Her lips part waiting for the first kiss.

  I lean forward and take hold of her face before lowering my mouth over hers for a deep, penetrating kiss. With one hand, I drop my pants. I hold her chin to look at me as I drive my cock into her. Her warm breath caresses my face as she moans in pleasure. I kiss her again, hard and punishing.

  She tightens her fists and arms, braces her back against the wall and lifts her legs around my waist to take in more of me. One hand circles her ass to hold her in place as I penetrate the tight hole with my thumb. Her body shudders. I've been inside of her enough to know she is close to coming.

  I take hold of her chin, pinching it tightly as I force her to look at me. "You are mine, Sweet Sin. Do you understand that?"

  Her weak head shake is not enough. I pump harder into h
er. "Don't you dare come. Not until I hear it from you. Say it, Tawny. Say it." I thrust into her and sense that she is using all of her control not to explode into an orgasm.

  Tears make her brown eyes glassy. The words tumble off her incredible lips. "I'm yours, Kane. I belong to you." Her body stiffens and her head drops back against the wall as she cries out with pleasure.

  I thrust into her, shaking the wall and the whole fucking room until I come. I wrap my arms around her and hold her tightly. "God help any man who tries to come near you," I mutter quietly to myself.

  32

  Maddox

  As far as I am concerned, I've been as patient as a fucking saint for two goddamned weeks. I push open Clark's door. He nearly chokes on a bite of hamburger as I ignore his finger pointing telling me to get out.

  I pull my badge out and slam it down on his desk. "I've got the coordinates. I know where she's at. Either I go in with your support or I go in on my own."

  Clark wipes his hand on a napkin and stares down at the badge. He looks up at me. I can read his thoughts. He's worried too. Maybe worried enough to go along with my crazy plan.

  "Come on, Cap'n, make me a fucking billionaire so I can bring her home."

  OBSESSED

  Copyright © 2018 by Tess Oliver

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  1

  Angie

  My bare feet step one in front of the other as I trail obediently behind Blake, my personal assistant and only friend in the Lace Underground. My skin prickles from the cold air that brushes over my mostly naked body. But I'll be warm soon enough. Soon I'll be in his arms and my flesh will burn with wanting him. He'll be inside of me, and I'll be at the center of his world. Which is the only place I want to be.

  It's only been a few months but I can't recall the exact moment when I lost the threads to my past. I'm fully aware of Detective Angie Tennyson, that other woman, the woman who couldn't wait to pull on jeans and her gun holster. The woman who preferred danger and adventure to primping and pampering. The woman who stupidly allowed herself to fall madly in love with her partner. The memories are there, twisted and tangled with all the disappointing, happy and sorrowful moments of my prior life, but they are all muted by the new voice in my head, the woman who calls herself Tawny. Tawny, the woman who lives and breathes for the moments when she is with Kane.

  "I've never been to his office," I say quietly. My morning injection of nectar makes any rough edges smooth. Even my voice sounds different when I'm high on it. And it is a high. That is no longer a question because when I come down from it, the crash is more explosive with each dose. Explosive enough that I'm sure withdrawing completely from it will kill me.

  Blake stops at a door and winks at me before knocking. He's decided to cut his hair even closer to his head, possibly to camouflage the emerging bald spot. The short cropped hair with the bright blue contacts makes him look more severe. But there's nothing harsh about him. He's just a man struggling to survive in the bizarre underground world Kane Freestone has created. It's a wild, sordid and altogether strange life but for most of the people living in the complex, it's a far better existence than they had in the real world.

  Blake's knuckles tap the door again.

  A shudder of fear rolls through me. "Maybe he's called me here to let me know he's through with me." It's one of many insecure moments I'll fall into throughout the day. It's always in the back of my mind. It's always there, lurking like a dark shadow, reminding me that at any time Kane can decide he's bored of me. At any time he can toss me out to the club members, the rich men who pay ridiculous fees to be part of Kane's secret Lace Underground.

  "Stop that." Blake is unusually curt. "That's not going to happen." His reassuring words are dotted with sadness. Blake never wanted it to get this far. He told me again and again, I hope he tires of you soon. Not because Blake’s cruel but because he's caring. His boss has never kept a woman for his personal use this long, and he's convinced himself no good can come from it. The tiny sliver of intuition I have left tells me the same thing, but that does nothing to cool my desire for Kane. If anything, the fragility of the situation only makes my manic infatuation worse.

  "Come in," a voice replies, his voice, the deep mellow sound that can nearly drive me to orgasm just hearing it.

  Blake opens the door and ushers me inside. I look back to see if he is following. Instead, he casts me a weak smile and shuts the door. Kane’s dark head is leaned over the paperwork on his desk. His shoulders look tense as they strain the fabric on his shirt. My entire existence is for his pleasure. I know nothing of his business or, for that matter, his secret club. It’s a thought that nearly makes me laugh. I posed as a homeless girl to find my way into the Lace Underground. My mission was to find damaging evidence to bring Kane Freestone’s shady empire down and to find his connection to the murders of two former club members. But those goals have become just small nuisances in my conscience.

  After spending so much time on the police force, witnessing every horror a person can dream up and absorbing the stress of my profession, I’ve grown fond of having no worries or responsibilities. My whole frivolous, shallow existence is about pleasure. His and mine. Occasionally, I wonder if my coworkers are missing smart-mouthed Detective Tennyson. Or maybe they've already written me off as lost forever. It’s an idea that should depress me, but my emotions are too muted to give it much thought.

  Kane doesn't look up or acknowledge me. I suppress the momentary disappointment. His office is what I imagined, organized, elegantly understated with a large mahogany desk and storage cabinets. It’s a stark, cold room but with him sitting in the center of it, it pulses with energy.

  Kane finally pulls his focus from his paperwork. There are a few thin lines of worry on his otherwise perfect face which I brush off as business related. He sits back on his chair and stares at me from behind a curtain of black lashes. The brilliant blue of his eyes is dimmed by the lights in the room.

  "Come closer," he says. The gentle command turns my knees to jelly. I walk across the room to him. He rolls his chair back and motions for me to stand between him and the desk.

  I can feel his gaze on my body as if it’s a caress. He surveys me from head to toe. My pussy is throbbing with anticipation.

  "You’re just what I need this morning, Sweet Sin. But you’re overdressed for the occasion."

  Kane doesn’t take his intense, hungry gaze from my face as he reaches toward me. The paper thin bra and panties I’m wearing rip off with a quick tug. With the exception of my leather cuffs and anklets, I’m naked. He loops his finger around the ring on a wrist cuff and pulls me sharply toward him. My eyes drift shut as his strong hands take hold of me. I live to be in his grasp, to feel his power. His mouth presses against the bare mound of my pussy. The sensation sends a deep shiver through me. I brace my hands on his hard shoulders to keep from falling forward. I’m lost in the feel of his tongue flicking against my tender skin. I push against the pressure of his mouth. His groan coasts through the room.

  He leans forward and brusquely swipes away the papers and ledgers on his desk. His hands grip me possessively and he lifts my bottom onto the desk. The smooth polished wood feels cool on my naked ass.

  His blue eyes are dark and glazed. Like me, he is crazed with lust. It takes no drug for him to reach the feral, wild hunger. He just needs me. And knowing that I’ve stirred him to a frenzy brings me close to the edge of orgasm. It is like that with Kane. I cling to the edge of ecstasy and wait to be pushed over the edge again and again until I’m sure I will collapse into a puddle of exhaustion.

  None too subtly, Kane pulls my ass closer to the edge. He scoots his chair forward and spreads my knees far apart. But it seems I’m not exposed enough. He grabs
the ring of each anklet and lifts my feet to brace on the back of his chair. The position forces me back and I place my hands on the desk to support myself. My arms shake like rubber.

  "This is where I’m meant to be, Sweet Sin." His hair tickles my thigh as he presses his face between my legs. His hands circle my ass to grip me tightly against his mouth as he invades me with his tongue. My pussy instantly dissolves into waves of pleasure. My feet push against the back of his chair urging him to penetrate me deeper. Instead, he pulls his mouth away. I whimper in disappointment.

  Kane peers up at me from between my thighs and licks his lips. "If you want more, I need to hear it," he teases. His games border on cruel, but they excite me more.

  "Yes, fucking yes. I want more. Please." I slide my ass to get closer to him, urging him to touch me again. He gently kisses the inside of my thigh knowing damn well it's not nearly enough. It's a tease, a mere tickle. I need more.

  "Please. The ache is too much to bear," I cry. "Only you can make me happy, Kane. Only you." Those are the words he wants to hear.

  He stands up between my thighs and opens his fly. I drop my anxious gaze to see his glorious, slick cock spring free. He pinches my chin between his finger and thumb and lifts my gaze back to his face. "Say it again." His tone is deep, serious.