by BJ Wane
“Men aren’t the only perverts out there, sugar,” he drawled with a touch of humorous sarcasm. Imagining what he would order her to do if she were a sub at his club, he stated, “Bend your knees and widen them. Your position should leave your labia spread and display your pretty pussy.”
“Okay, done,” she breathed.
“Excellent. Now, bend over and name a fruit that best describes what you’re eyeing between your folds.”
“Sheesh.” Her muttered shock came through the line loud and clear.
“That and your delay would earn you another few swats. I’m waiting.” He loved those small gasps that hinted her body was on board even if her mind wasn’t. Those little signs of submissiveness would be a delight to explore under different circumstances.
“Fine, uh, watermelon. How’s that?”
The whispered need for approval made Grayson wish he could give it to her in person. “Good girl. Your words have my cock hardening as I picture your juicy, dark pink flesh. Putting an image into your caller’s head will egg them on. Now, using one finger on the inside of your thigh, up by your knee, start making small circles.”
“Why?” she questioned him again, her breathlessness leaving Grayson to wonder if she was imagining the erection she caused.
“Because I said to.” She huffed, but the sigh that followed told him she liked the light teasing touch. “Since your knee is bent, move downward, widening your circles with each shift toward your crotch. Does that feel good?” He spoke without pause to keep her from questioning herself too much. The time for introspection could come later, after they hung up.
“Yes, but sort of tickles. I’m… there with the next circle.”
“Excellent. Once you hit the crease where your bent leg meets your pussy, your circle should be wide enough your finger will glide up your spread labia. Do it.”
Jesus. That little catch in her voice was enough to turn his cock into a steel rod that threatened to bust through his fucking zipper. Biting back a groan of self-inflicted frustration, Grayson decided to reward her before turning her loose to fend for herself with the next caller. Although, after checking the time again, she may have just made enough with him to call it a night.
“Circle your clit next, pressing a little harder. Pretend I’m watching you and your main goal is to please and excite me. I want to hear you climax.”
“Oh, God,” she moaned, her low voice carrying a tortured undertone that tore at his composure and had him questioning, again, what trouble had landed her in such a desperate state.
“Harder now, sugar. A little faster.” Her breath caught again, a small sound that ripped through him before her cry resonated in his ear, ringing of both surprise and relief. He gave her a few more minutes to come down from the pleasure, to clear her head and remember he was there with her.
“I...” She sucked in a gasping breath. “I… never… thank you,” she ended on a long sigh.
“You’re welcome.” He paused a moment before asking, “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what happened that you ended up with this as your only option?”
“I’m sure.” She didn’t hesitate over that answer, and he’d done all he could to help her but couldn’t resist offering one more boon before hanging up. “Look, if you’re ever near Willow Springs, Montana, stop and ask for Grayson Monroe. I might be able to help you.”
With her body still shuddering from small aftershocks of pleasure she’d never achieved before, Avery gasped at his generous, unexpected offer. “Are you serious?” He couldn’t be, she decided. He was just being nice. But his parting words gave her pause.
“As a heart attack, sugar. You take care.”
The sudden dial tone buzzing in her ear cleared the remaining euphoric fog clouding her head. When she saw how long they’d been talking, a different kind of warmth spread through her sated, quivering body. Dialing the number Esmerelda gave her to both check in and sign off, she took her number off the list for the night before they put any more calls through to her phone. Even if she hadn’t made enough with his call, after that experience, there was no way she could concentrate enough to talk with anyone else right now. Not only was she still reeling from a stranger’s generosity of time, money and concern, but her limited and disappointing sexual past hadn’t prepared her for such an explosive response to a deep, commanding voice giving erotic instructions.
He’d left her with just one burning question waiting for an answer. Where did she go from here?
Chapter 2
“We need to talk.”
Chad Banks’ voice echoed around the corner of the police precinct’s parking garage, halting Avery in her tracks. She’d never cared much for Darren’s partner and preferred waiting out of sight for him to leave before meeting the vice detective she’d been dating the last six months for dinner.
“What about?” Darren asked with clear irritation.
“I stopped in the evidence room this morning. Avery jumped and appeared unsettled at seeing me. When she left her desk to get the box I requested, I checked her computer to see what she’d been so engrossed with when I came in. You will not like it,” Chad warned, the menace in his voice sending a shiver of unease down Avery’s spine. She feared she knew what he would say next.
“Talk faster, Banks, she’ll be out here any minute,” Darren insisted.
“She had the Mendez interview pulled up along with the log-ins from that bust. I fucking told you Mendez’s accounting during the D.A.’s plea bargain interview would come back to bite us.” Anger vibrated behind every word Chad uttered.
Oh, God. Fear coiled through Avery like an insidious, slow crawling snake ready to sink its fangs into her. Detective Banks had entered her small office adjacent to the evidence room in his usual brusque, hurried and demanding manner earlier that morning. After insisting on her immediate retrieval of an envelope from the storage unit for his perusal, he left her no choice but to leave her desk unattended to obey his order. As a lowly IT clerk, all the detectives in Chicago’s busiest precinct were her superiors.
Just those few words confirmed her suspicions there had been something off between the money-laundering con artist, Josef Mendez’s testimony to the D.A. and what Darren and Chad had given her to log into the evidence room. She hadn’t wanted to believe what she suspected, but now might not have a choice. Darren’s silence unnerved her until he spoke again, and then his words chilled her to the bone.
“Damn meddling bitch. Hell, the only reason I’m fucking her is to keep her from looking too closely at things like that. It’ll really piss me off if my sacrifice turns out to be for nothing, but let’s not jump to conclusions.”
“Yeah, well that plan isn’t working so well, now is it? I say we need to fix this, and fast, before she goes digging deeper.” Banks sounded as angry and frustrated as Darren as the two of them confirmed the suspicions she’d been praying were all wrong.
“Quit acting like a hothead. There’s nothing to panic over yet. I’ll feel her out. Once I get an idea of what she knows, we’ll go from there.”
“And if she knows, or even suspects too much?” Banks persisted in wanting to know.
Avery recognized Darren’s contemptuous sigh. “I’m not keen on prison any more than you. If necessary, we’ll arrange an accident and that’ll take care of the problem.”
The casual indifference behind his coldly phrased suggestion sent Avery reeling back a clumsy step. She bumped into the trash container, the metal bin thumping against the concrete wall reverberating in the cavernous garage, the loud report increasing her already escalated heart palpitations. Oh God, oh God, oh God. How could she have been so stupid? Men never took notice of clumsy, muttering geeks and none had ever shown interest in her past a few dates or one round of sex. Why hadn’t she remembered those hard-learned lessons when Darren started taking her out?
With her heart lodged in her throat, mind-gripping terror sent her fleeing back into the elevator, the doors swishing closed before either
man came around the corner. That small boon in her favor was short-lived as she fretted over what to do and where to go. It would be her word against two seasoned detectives, so it didn’t take much thought to know she couldn’t turn them in without solid proof that couldn’t just as easily point the finger her way. After all, she was the one in charge of all evidence brought into the precinct and stored, as well as for logging everything into the computer.
One word kept pounding in her head as she dashed back to her office. Run… run… run
Avery jerked awake with a gasp, her perspiration-soaked body shivering from the remnants of the dream still too vivid in her mind. Sucking in a deep breath, she looked around the dingy motel room and tried to remember which city she was in, and what happened to set off the nightmare. And then it came to her in a fearful rush. I broke the law, I’m now a hacker.
She’d left Springfield three days after getting the job at Midnight Whispers, unable to continue talking with strangers who wanted nothing from her except enough titillation to get themselves off. She’d tried turning everything her benevolent mystery man taught her around the other way but had continued to fumble her way through short conversations that left her humiliated, despondent and feeling more alone than ever.
In Des Moines, she had been lucky enough to land a waitressing gig at a highway diner, the owner more than happy to pay her less than minimum wage in cash. After visiting the public library and using their computer lab to see what, if anything was going on in Chicago, she’d stuck around for ten days when nothing incriminating showed up in the papers. Since she’d left her phone off with the batteries removed after sending a quick text to her foster mother, Marci Devers in Florida before fleeing, she didn’t know if anyone else had tried to contact her and was too afraid to check. She couldn’t take the chance of Darren tracking her through her phone or taking a call from him. Not even a text. Her acting skills were nil; as Marci often pointed out, Avery wore her thoughts and emotions on her sleeve. There had always been few people in her life who mattered, or whom she mattered to, so there had never been a reason to learn the art of hiding what she was feeling.
And then, on her last day there, despair over having to move on again with no destination in mind or ability to get her life back prompted her to do the unthinkable; return to the library to hack into the precinct’s logs. Using her skills and some creative maneuvering, she unearthed another discrepancy between the items Darren and Chad turned into evidence and the suspect’s accounting of his stash. After noting the two similar inconsistencies were both from busts Darren and Chad had worked alone, she’d copied the data and fled, a new fear stemming from breaking the law pushing her to get out of Des Moines as fast as possible.
Sliding out of the lumpy bed, Avery hugged herself against the chill and peeked out the window to see light snowflakes falling. Shivering, she now recalled arriving in Sioux Falls, South Dakota yesterday afternoon, her first stop another library. A quick check of her email revealed the third message from her supervisor questioning her abrupt family medical leave request and sudden disappearance, but nothing indicating her snooping had been discovered. She felt bad for putting Susan in a bind; her boss had always been a pleasure to work for, understanding and supportive. But it was obvious Susan’s generous consideration had been wearing thin when she let Avery know she would offer her position to the temporary young employee filling in for her if she didn’t return on Monday.
Sighing, Avery rested her forehead against the cold glass windowpane. One of the hardest things Darren’s manipulations had forced her into was answering Susan with her resignation. At least she’d been smart enough, and quick enough to copy all of Darren and Chad’s evidence deposits, as well as the one transcribed interview of their suspect onto a flash drive before she’d fled after hearing them in the garage. If those files were erased or altered in her absence, she still held proof something was off with one, and now two of their raids and that the two were dirty cops. Not that it would stand up if it came to her word against theirs if they claimed she stole the evidence after they turned in the entire contents of their busts.
Start over, that’s what she needed to do. Find someplace new, far from Chicago, begin a new chapter in her life and pray Detective Darren Lancaster would forget all about her in time. Not that she would be memorable, only what she might, or might not know would be. Only one man had shown genuine interest in her, had given her his undivided attention, listened to her, cared enough to help her even though they were strangers over the phone. That accidental call had been the only shining beacon during the last weeks of living with never-ending fear and uncertainty and what still aided in getting her through the long, lonely days and insecure nights.
Padding across the room to the miniscule bathroom, Avery flipped the shower on and stripped off her sleep shirt. Stepping into the small, steaming cubicle, she leaned against the wall and lathered her hands, remembering how he’d ordered her to touch herself and her response to his commands. The memory alone warmed her, much more than any other time when she’d indulged in masturbation. None of her previous self-induced climaxes had come close to rivaling the off-the-charts response he’d led her into that had left her stunned and steeped in pleasure.
If you’re ever near Willow Springs, Montana, stop and ask for Grayson Monroe.
With each day that had passed since that night, the temptation to take Grayson Monroe up on his offer pulled stronger. The echo of his deep voice and her responses to both it and his commands still played through her head. Since being on the run, the only time she’d felt safe, the only time she hadn’t suffered the pangs of loneliness had been those two hours spent with him on the phone. Did he mean it, or had he been sending her off with a comment neither of them expected her to follow up on? And was she desperate enough, brave enough to find out?
Going to Marci was out of the question. The social worker who had been the only stable adult influence in Avery’s life as she grew up with an alcoholic single mother would welcome her with open arms, just as Marci had done every time Avery’s mother ended up in rehab. But Darren knew about her close ties with Marci and she refused to put the woman who had always been more of a mother to her than her own in jeopardy.
Avery dried off, got dressed and opened the bathroom door to scan the bleak motel room and wonder how much longer she could keep up with moving around, going from one meaningless job to another. She was a geeky IT tech, quiet and reserved unless playing online video games with people she didn’t know. She’d tried switching her wide-framed glasses for contacts and wearing her wavy, unruly hair down, but the small discs had irritated her eyes and her hair kept falling in her face as she’d worked, annoying and distracting her. Darren’s betrayal still cut her to the quick, but that was on her as she should’ve known the precinct’s hottest cop had to harbor an ulterior motive for seeking her out and pursuing her with dogged determination and flattery she’d never gotten from another man.
As the approach of dawn lightened the pearl gray sky to a warmer amber glow, Avery made a snap decision, counted her cash and figured her expenses between here and Montana before she could chicken out. The bulk of her savings had gone to purchase the fifteen-year-old, clunky sedan she still couldn’t get used to after opting for public transportation the last ten years. She was okay out on the highway, in clear weather, but city traffic still made her a nervous wreck. She couldn’t afford to draw attention or questions by getting a ticket or into an accident. With just over an eleven-hour drive ahead of her, she figured she had enough to last her a week or two if she continued to live frugally and could pick up work soon after arriving in Willow Springs. Considering everything else, what did she have to lose?
The soft cry reverberating down from The Barn’s converted loft drew Master Grayson’s attention. His lips quirked around the toothpick nestled on the right side of his mouth as he caught sight of Sydney, Caden’s submissive strapped to the St. Andrew Cross, her petite white body attractively displayed,
the light pink stripes decorating her skin from his flogger discernible even in the dim lighting shining from the rafters. Both he and Caden’s brother, Connor still found Caden’s recent tumble from bachelorhood amusing. Watching his friend succumb to her charming insistence a few months ago had entertained everyone in the club.
“I never tire of watching him with her,” Grayson said, flicking his gray/green gaze to Connor who stood manning the circular bar in the center of the lower floor. The rough-hewn walls of the old barn had been whitewashed, insulated and reinforced; the floors sanded and refinished to a glossy shine. The bathrooms were just one of the amenities they’d added when they’d undertaken the huge task of turning the dilapidated structure into a private club over seven years ago.
Connor didn’t bother tipping his Stetson back to get a better view of his brother when he glanced that way. “I’m happy for him, even if I did have to push him in her direction. She keeps things lively on the ranch.”
“I bet.” Grayson often listened to Caden’s constant grumbling about Sydney’s penchant for getting lost and pampering the farm animals with amusement, the way his rugged face would soften whenever he looked at her giving him away every time. They were all happy and relieved to hear her uncle, who had caused her such grief, was doing well in rehab and with keeping the new position in the family’s whole foods company his brothers had given him. It had taken aligning himself with the wrong person to wake him up to his destructive ways, but at least he was trying to make amends to the family, and niece he had wronged.
Swiveling on the barstool, Grayson leaned his elbows on the shiny, mahogany top and eyed Connor. “He’s a lucky man. Are you going to follow in his footsteps?”
