Siren in Bloom

by Lexi Blake

  “Crap.” Her face fell. She looked down. “Am I in trouble?”

  Finally she understood. “Oh, yes. Unless, you’ve changed your mind and you don’t wish to be protected and sheltered. If you want me to leave, tell me to go.”

  Her eyes widened. “That’s not fair. I’m finding my feet with this. I want to try it.”

  He took a long step back, giving her the space she would need. “Then we begin as we mean to go. Pull down your pants and lay your hands flat on the coffee table, ass in the air.”

  “Why would I do that?” The question had an air of hushed horror to it.

  “The better to spank you, my dear.”

  She frowned. “Big, bad Wolf, huh?”

  “That’s me, sweetheart,” he shot back. “And I’m not happy right now. I’m very much pissed off that you didn’t even think to call me.”

  “How is spanking me going to fix that?”

  “Well, first off, it will make me feel infinitely better. Second, it might serve as a reminder that the next time something bad happens, you’re supposed to call your Dom right away.”

  Her mouth pouted in the sweetest, sexiest way. “I know I should have called you. I’m sorry. I’m not used to relying on someone.”

  She batted those big brown doe eyes. It wasn’t going to work on him. Oh, he wanted to haul her in his arms and promise everything would be okay, but that wouldn’t make his point. “It’s a count of ten right now. Would you like to go for twenty, sweetheart?”

  “Damn it, Wolf. I’ve been through a lot today.” She practically stomped her foot.

  “Twenty it is, then.”

  She pushed at him, and for a minute he thought she would shove him out of her townhouse and tell him to go hell. But she frowned and her hand went to the clasp of her pants. Her eyes teared up. “Can I go change first?”

  Odd request. “No. Pull them down.”

  A sniffle came from her. “I’m not wearing anything pretty. I…I have a girdle on.”

  He checked his laugh. She was worried about that? “Do you need help getting out of it?”

  Her mouth firmed in a stubborn pout. “No. I think I can handle it.”

  Her hands went to the waistband, and she unbuttoned her slacks. They fell to her ankles but she wasn’t on display yet. A nude colored form of underwear covered her from high above her waist down to her thighs. She hooked her thumbs under what looked to be some feminine torture device. She pushed at the spandex that wrapped around her waist.

  “Stop.”

  She stopped, her eyes widening. “You don’t want to spank me anymore, do you?”

  He was going to have to work on her self-esteem. He could see the red marks the way-too-tight girdle left on her skin. He reached into his boot. “No. I simply don’t want to watch you try to wiggle out of that for the next five minutes. Why are you wearing that thing, woman? I’m pretty sure we used something like that on Taliban prisoners to get them to talk.”

  He pulled a knife out and flicked open the blade.

  “What are you doing?” Shelley asked.

  “Helping you.” He pulled at the band and made quick work, filleting the girdle off of her.

  She sighed in relief and then frowned. “That was not cheap, Wolf.”

  He traced the lines the device had left on her skin. Angry-looking red marks covered her hips where the seams had bitten into her flesh. “It doesn’t matter. You’re not allowed to wear it again. No more, Shelley, not while our contract is in force.”

  “I need it,” she argued. “I’m not exactly slender.”

  She didn’t need to be stick thin. He’d seen enough women in the world who were starving. He wanted her gorgeous and healthy. “You’re beautiful. And I find these marks vulgar. No more. You’re a gorgeous woman with amazingly sexy curves, and I don’t want you hiding them.”

  “My pants won’t fit,” she said stubbornly.

  “I’ll buy you new ones.” Why was he arguing with her? Because she didn’t seem to notice that he could see her pussy. Pretty little pussy. Fuck. How was he going to keep his dick out of her? He allowed his hands to trace the line of her hips. “You don’t need that thing.”

  She put her hands on his shoulders as though she required some balance. “I don’t like it, but I want to look nice.”

  “You look nice, sweetheart. Very nice.” He stared at her nest of dark curls. It took everything he had not to let his fingers roam down and sink into her pussy, rubbing until he got her cream flowing, until she begged for something bigger than his fingers. “But we need to talk about grooming, love.”

  She huffed. “I know. I was going to shave, but then jerk-face hoodie guy stole my laptop.”

  And they were back to the point of the lesson. Damn it. He had a job to do. “You can have a shower after your spanking. Turn around and grab hold of that table.”

  She squeaked, trying to turn on her heels. He caught her and turned her to properly face the opposite wall. He watched with a smile as she tried to settle down to the right position. She was endearingly clumsy.

  Her head turned back, a grimace on her face. “I hope you’re enjoying this.”

  “No sarcasm. Five more.”

  She grumbled but didn’t say anything else. Her ass came up in the air as she leaned over.

  Heart-shaped. Round. Juicy. That ass was a work of art, and she’d tried to hide it behind punishing spandex. He touched her, needing to show her how gorgeous she was. He ran his hands over her flesh and then did what he’d wanted to do the moment he’d seen her. He pressed his pelvis forward and let her feel the hard line of his cock. “Does that feel like I’m not interested in you? That I don’t find you sexy? Now, I have zero intention of using anything but my hand on your pretty backside, but you need to understand that I greatly prefer you in your natural glory.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He was content with her breathy reply. “Now, pick a safe word. I’m serious about safe words. I don’t want you to be afraid to use it if you’re hurting or you’re really afraid.”

  “I have a safe word. It’s Gucci. I like their bags. I used to have one.”

  “I don’t know what that is, sweetheart, but I can remember it.” He stepped back and felt a sweet contentment overtake him. This was their first play together.

  He meant to make damn sure it wasn’t their last.

  * * * *

  Shelley took a deep breath, waiting for the first strike.

  What the hell was she doing? Her ass was naked and in the air and her slacks were around her ankles, and a man she’d barely met was touching her and making every cell in her body ache for him.

  She had to hand it to him. She wasn’t thinking about being robbed anymore. She was one hundred percent focused on Wolf Meyer.

  Well, maybe not one hundred because there was also a piece of her that couldn’t let go of Leo. When she’d chased after the man, one of her first thoughts hadn’t been to call the police. It had been to call Leo. But he didn’t answer her anymore. She had to move on, and god, she wanted Wolf.

  Wolf, who was a taunting bastard because he’d left her standing there for what felt like forever, her naked ass in the slightly chilly air.

  And then a loud smack roared through her.

  Shelley gasped, whimpering at the pain that rushed through her system.

  “I need a count, sweetheart.”

  He wanted her to count? Asshole. And yet her mouth opened, and she managed to form the word. “One.”

  “Thank you.” He sounded as though he was thanking her for passing the salt, not for counting out her own punishment.

  A second smack hit her like a freight train. Tears blurred her eyes. “Two.”

  She could barely breathe as he continued. Torture? Wolf Meyer seemed to understand the word. He smacked her ass again and again. She thought about using her safe word. When he hit her a tenth time, it was right there on the edge of her tongue. “Ten,” she said, and then she was going to say, “Gucci,” but the wo
rd didn’t come out.

  “You’re doing amazingly well.” Wolf’s hand rubbed her ass, and for the first time, she felt something beyond the pain. Heat and languor were starting to sink in, flushing her flesh with an odd pleasure. His words sank in, too. He talked about how lovely her backside was, how strong she was.

  And she felt it. She could handle this. The pain settled into her bones and somehow she turned it into something more, something sweet. She was in control even as her Dom smacked her an eleventh time.

  “Eleven,” she said. “Twelve.” The count was easy now. She gritted her teeth against the pain, knowing all the while that it led to something better. Twelve through twenty-four flew by, each smack pushing her to someplace that was just out of reach. She breathed, letting every sensation flow in and out of her body.

  “Sweetheart, that was twenty-five. Can you say it for me?”

  They were already done? How had that happened? She’d forgotten where she was. She’d simply been. All of her cares had flown away. Even Leo hadn’t been there in the back of her head. She’d been a creature of sensation, and it had been remarkable.

  “Twenty-five,” she said with almost a sad sigh. This was what her brother gave Beth, a safe place to forget herself and simply be. This was how Beth had finally managed to find her strength.

  Strong hands soothed over her flesh. “You look so pretty like this, sweetheart.”

  She felt pretty. Strange. The horrible self-consciousness that had plagued her before seemed to have floated away on a haze of pain and pleasure.

  “You didn’t use your safe word.”

  She shook her head.

  “Did you think about it?”

  Honesty. She was supposed to be honest with him at all times. She’d signed a contract that had promised him honesty and openness. At the time, it had seemed an odd thing to do, but now she found it freeing. She had to be honest. “Yes, Sir. I did.”

  “And why didn’t you?”

  Wretched honesty. “Because I decided I liked it.”

  She felt something soft press against the small of her back. God, he’d kissed her. He’d kissed her right above her tailbone, his lips as hot as the smack of his hand and even more devastating.

  “Thank you for the honesty. Now go and take a shower. We need to be at The Club soon. I’ll run out and grab us some food.” He helped her up.

  She kicked out of her shoes. It seemed a silly thing to pull her pants back up when she was about to get into the shower. She stared up at him. His gorgeous face was hard as a rock, the only softness there in his eyes and the slight uptick of his lips. She wanted him to kiss her.

  But he simply pulled her in for a hug. “Be a good girl. Dress comfortably. We’ll change at The Club.”

  And he turned and walked to the door. Damn him. He’d left her all hot and bothered. And she could plainly see that he wasn’t unaffected. His cock was a huge bulge against his jeans, as though the thing was trying its damnedest to get out and get back to her. Well, she could take care of herself in the shower. Yes. She wouldn’t walk into The Club with her pussy aching and dripping wet. That would be a bad idea.

  Wolf turned at the door, his eyes narrowing as if he could hear her thoughts. “No touching. Leave that pussy alone with the singular exception of shaving it. And don’t put on any underwear. Not if you want to keep it.”

  He winked and slipped out the door.

  She stared for a minute, her body aroused and her mind in a pleasant, fuzzy state.

  The door opened again. Wolf’s head popped back in. “Lock the door behind me.”

  The door closed again.

  “Bossy.” But she locked the door.

  She wasn’t thinking of anything but Wolf while she showered. The night, despite the stress of the day, was looking up.

  * * * *

  Holder shut the door behind him, making almost no noise as he entered the small room. The motel was not his usual. After years of roughing it in the most dangerous parts of the world, he greatly preferred a suite at the Fairmont, but he was trying to keep a low profile.

  And his cohort would definitely look out of place in an expensive suite.

  “Give me an update.” He shrugged out of his jacket and neatly placed it on the hanger. Just because he was in a piece-of-crap motel didn’t mean he had to act like an animal.

  “She’s got shit on this system, boss. It looks like it’s all crap.” Kyle Nelson’s young face was illuminated by the light of the computer screen. The hoodie he’d worn earlier had been tossed on one of the beds. Kyle had been halfway decent as a purse snatcher. He’d kept his head down and the hood over his brow. Holder was pretty sure Shelley McNamara wouldn’t recognize him even if she was introduced to the man who had stolen her bag. She’d seemed much more upset about the loss of her work than the man who had taken it. She had given the cops only the vaguest of descriptions.

  Of course, he’d kept her attention focused on him until the time was right. She’d done exactly what he’d wanted her to do.

  “You have any trouble getting around her password?” Holder asked, opening the mini fridge and pulling out a beer. Shelley McNamara was a pretty piece of fluff. If that overgrown ape Wolf hadn’t shown up, he would have given serious consideration to attempting to seduce her. It had been a while since he’d played a woman for information, but he wasn’t exactly unattractive. Even the scars could be used right. A lot of women loved that “wounded warrior” shit. But Wolf had practically growled at him. The last thing he needed was a former SEAL getting pissed off because Holder had touched his shit.

  He needed the Meyer brothers’ goodwill to get into that club.

  “The dumb bitch didn’t have a password.” Kyle looked up over his screen. “Hey, pass me one, boss.”

  Holder popped the top and then smacked young Kyle upside the head. “Watch your language when talking about a lady.”

  His eyes went wide. Kyle had gotten the old naval boot for getting too interested in certain websites. Holder didn’t have a single problem with whatever the idiot wanted to hack in his spare time as long as he did the job at hand. But he needed to show some respect. The mercenary business wasn’t what it used to be. The insanely wealthy people they worked for expected their highly paid killers to have some manners.

  The young man took a deep breath and proved he had a brain in his head. “The very nice lady did not properly protect her computer, sir. I got into it without a single problem.”

  “Better. Nothing incriminating?” Holder looked over Kyle’s shoulder. Shelley’s background was a soothing landscape that slowly turned into Manhattan at night and then a sunny, calm beach.

  Kyle shrugged. “She does a lot of shopping online, but she doesn’t buy anything. She likes to look at shoes. I mean a lot. What’s up with women and shoes? I mean, you got two feet, right? Why should you have more than one pair of shoes?”

  Holder barely managed to not roll his eyes. “Anything besides the shoes?”

  “Uhm, she doesn’t clear her cache. Besides her preoccupation with something called Louboutin, her latest searches go to a lot of kinky stuff, if you know what I mean.” Kyle’s voice went low, as though he was telling a secret.

  “I don’t. Tell me.” God, why had he decided to take care of this himself? He could be in some shithole war zone getting his balls blown off, but no, he got to hang out with a twenty-two-year-old hacker.

  “Bondage and shit.”

  Well, of course. They were back to the bondage. It made sense. It’s what Leo Meyer had been into. Everyone had known that. Meyer had a taste for tying women up and playing some kinky games with them. It was what had gotten Ada into such trouble. It wouldn’t surprise him at all to find out baby brother Meyer was into the same shit. “It’s not that mind blowing. Shelley works for that Lodge guy and apparently he runs a secret club.”

  Cross was trying to get into The Club. He had a friend in the Senate with privileges there and would be in town in a few days. Holder didn’t wan
t to wait that long.

  Kyle’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yeah. Lodge is into a lot of shit, boss. And hacking into his system wasn’t easy. I couldn’t actually get into his business system. Well, I did, but then I had to do the online equivalent of jumping out of the window of a house I was robbing and running like my pants were on fire. Pretty sure I covered my tracks. But I managed to find out a lot. Rumors mostly, but enough to make me think they’re true. He’s a pervert.”

  He didn’t give a crap about the guy’s morality. “Aren’t we all? So he’s personally into bondage, too? It’s not merely a business for him?”

  “Yes, the club he runs is a BDSM club, and he’s definitely a member,” Kyle explained. “I think he’s got a lot of people in his back pocket. You’re not going to like his security firm.”

  He gritted his teeth because that could only mean one thing. “Tell me it’s not Taggart. I know that do-gooder is here in town.”

  “Oh, from what I can tell Lodge bankrolled Taggart in the beginning. McKay-Taggart has a hand in every security issue Lodge has,” Kyle said. “And it’s worse. There are rumors that Lodge even has some mob contacts.”

  Fuck. That was all he needed. Shelley McNamara, wife of an infamous blackmailer, was working for a man with mob connections and whose security firm was known for being ruthless about protecting their clients. Cross was right. They had a serious problem, but if he couldn’t find the files with the taped meetings, it would always be hanging over their heads.

  “Anything that looks like a blackmail file?”

  Kyle shrugged. “Not unless she’s blackmailing people for their design tastes. She’s got a bunch of weird sketches and something called virtual swatches. What the hell is that?”

  Nothing he could use. “Dig deeper.”

  “I’ll try.” Kyle went back to his work, his fingers flying across the keys.

  Holder stepped to the window, looking out over the spectacular view of the parking lot.

  If he had to bet his life on it, he would bet that Shelley McNamara was exactly what she appeared to be—a sweet, slightly kinky woman with a shoe fetish.