Makenna's Trust: Titan Security Series #3

by Cynthia P. O’Neill

  When Cassia hadn’t gained access to me by way of my place, she’d resorted to phone calls, continual ones, until I’d finally answered, only to end up in shouting matches when I refused time and time again to be her damn lap dog. This definitely made her a prominent suspect. I mean, who tells someone “You’ll either sign those papers Daddy had drawn up stating you’ll do whatever we say—one of which is marry me—or I’ll make sure you’re never able to work in this town again or have any access to your former bitch.” Yep, she’s a nut case and then some.

  “Why don’t I call your father and see if there’s some way we can come to an agreement that doesn’t put me in your vile hands?” The words were harsh and intended as a threat. I wasn’t expecting her to backtrack.

  “There’s no need to call Daddy and bother him with this. I’ll try talking with him and seeing what we can do. But the basic terms will stay the same. You. Will. Be. Mine.”

  It had come as no surprise that my last confrontation with Cassia had caused me to tell her to never call me again. Of course she threatened me, saying, “You’ve just made the biggest mistake of your life, Marcus. Be prepared to lose everything you’ve ever cared about, because I’ll destroy you and that whore you claim to love.” Thankfully Makenna had set up the phone to record any calls Cassia, or anyone from the company, had made to my number. She was racking up the crazy talk and helping me look better all the time.

  Three hours after my final confrontation with Cassia, Mr. Townsend called to inform us the court hearing had been moved up a few weeks. His team was still trying to unearth a financial tie between the company and the judge handling the case. So far, they’d found a small money trail coming from Cassia’s father, Ronald Hamilton, and a larger one coming from another partner of the firm, Dominic Andrews, which surprised me, given that I’d never had anything to do with him the entire time I’d been at the W.H.A.T. financial group. I did have a run in with his son, Damien, a few times, but he would just yell at me about his girl for no reason and walk away. I didn’t even know he was seeing someone. Anyway, we saw the flow of funds leave the company to an offshore bank account, but couldn’t prove it was the judge who owned the account.

  Did I mention we’d received copies of the tapes that were supposed to put me in the office at the time of all the transactions? They’d finally arrived two days ago and were so encrypted we couldn’t even watch them. Mr. Townsend demanded ones we could actually view, citing someone tampered with evidence, preventing us from establishing our case. He motioned for a delay in the proceedings, citing the need to be able to view all evidence prior to the court proceedings, but it was denied. Makenna tried to find a work-around to remove some of the layers of encryption, but so far no luck.

  Also, I’d found numerous discrepancies in my personal calendar that proved I’d been out of the office when some of these transactions took place. Makenna had even been successful in retrieving visual footage from traffic cams, surveillance video from the locations I’d been to, and so on, to show I’d not been in the office at that time. I’d had dental and doctor appointments, with footage showing me at the facility at the time the financial transactions occurred. I had my alibi.

  I didn’t understand her need to have proof of whether I was in the office at that point. But Makenna argued, “We may be able to show you were elsewhere, but those transactions were done on your computer, inside your office, when you were supposed to have been there or been inside the building. We need to see if the person was male or female, and if male, did they look like you or wear a disguise?”

  Okay, I didn’t understand, so I stood behind her in my office, looking at her computer screen. “I still don’t get why you and Mr. Townsend need this as part of our defense.”

  Her fingers stilled on the keyboard, previously typing in some kind of code meant to take various levels out of the encryption. Kenna turned toward me, grabbed my hand, and pulled me down to eye level. “We’re going to view this tape one way or another. I know I’m asking a lot, but you need to trust me.”

  Her voice and face were filled with determination and, if I was sensing it correctly, passion. “Even if we can prove you were elsewhere, they might try to argue that you’d paid someone that looked like you to run around the city to give you an alibi. We need to find out who was in your office, who used your computer, how they got your passwords, and who the mastermind behind everything is. If we could just get a close-up image of the person doing the transactions, we might have argumentative proof it couldn’t have been you.”

  I blinked in awe of her strength of mind to prove me innocent. I knew that wasn’t the case when she first arrived here. She’d gone from someone just doing her job to being overly protective of me.

  I needed some coffee to wake my ass up, so I’d gone downstairs to try and figure out what I should make for breakfast, leaving Makenna behind to get dressed.

  Kyle knocked on the door. “One of the Titan guys just dropped off a package for Makenna.”

  “Thanks, man. I’ll give it to her.” He and Spencer had been somewhat helpful, secretly searching on their own time for anything to help with my case. I could almost see myself being friends with these men, except for the fact they were both enamored with my girl. Yes, she’s always been my girl. As far as life goes, Makenna was it for me.

  I took the package upstairs and offered it to her. She immediately ripped into it, and her brows furrowed at the contents. “There’s a note from Rick on top, apologizing for the delay in getting this to me.”

  She looked up to explain. “He had some operatives injured in an assignment that had gone south. Apparently, their informant decided to turn on them.”

  After reaching into the small box, she pulled out a large manila envelope that looked like it was ready to explode. It was nearly bursting at the seams. Kenna smiled. “It’s something from my sister.”

  Wanting to give her some privacy, I stated, “I’ll go downstairs to make us some lemon ricotta pancakes with all the trimmings.”

  Her tongue came out, licking her lips. “That sounds delicious. How did you know I wanted some?”

  I had to laugh out loud. “You only mentioned maybe six or seven times yesterday how long it has been since you’ve had them.”

  An hour or so later Makenna emerged with tears running down her face. I’d been in the kitchen prepping everything, just waiting for her to come down, since it took no time to cook the food. The moment I saw the tears, I dropped everything to rush to her side, fearing she was hurt.

  “Are you okay?” My words were laced when panic, when I stopped short and recognized all the letters I’d sent to her over the years, begging her to come back to me, clutched in her hands. They were familiar because they were all written on the monogrammed paper she’d given me as a present. I’d received some of the letters back with the words “Return to Sender” or “Unknown Address,” and some of them were completely shredded.

  “My letters” were the only words I could form as I saw her holding them close to her in disbelief. I wasn’t able to ask the important questions of where they’d been, how did she get them, and why? I’d thought they’d been lost or destroyed.

  Her words were barely audible as she choked out, “I can’t believe how many there were, and according to Jesse, there is still a drawer full of them in my father’s desk at my family’s home.” She seemed to swallow hard before she admitted, “I thought you were just trying to get on my good side, telling me how you’d pursued me relentlessly for the first four years. You were telling the truth.” Kenna’s eyes seemed to almost question that last statement.

  Okay, the last part hurt a little, and I’m sure it was evidenced by the confusion on my face. “You doubted me?”

  She diverted her gaze toward the floor, trying to hide her tears and the guilt written across her face. “I wanted to believe you, but after all the lies and manipulation from my father to keep us apart, Cassia, and everything else, what was I supposed to think?”


  “Don’t you realize I’d give up my own life for yours? How I’ve never loved anyone more than I love you? You’re it for me. No one else has ever captivated me the way you do, love.

  “In the beginning, I’d written a letter to you every day we were apart. When I’d gotten to New York and had work to contend with, I’d dropped to three or four letters a week and never gave up hope that you’d one day come back to me. Granted, I didn’t know how to get letters to you while you were in the Air Force, but I’d hoped that by sending them by way of your family, maybe someone would forward them on to you.” Okay, I was spilling my emotions out like crazy, so sue me. Love makes you do extreme things, and I was definitely passionate over this woman.

  My hands grabbed hold of her face, forcing her attention solely on me. “I get that you were hurt and panicked. You felt betrayed by your father, you just found out you were pregnant, you thought I’d stolen your job, and you believed Cassia had stolen me from you. You probably felt the whole universe was conspiring against you. So I get that it’s hard to trust.”

  I pushed away from her, running a hand through my hair and pacing. “Hell, if I’d been through what you had, I know I’d feel the same way. But you now have proof that I wasn’t lying, confirmation that I’ve loved you all this time.”

  Reaching out my hand to her, I wondered. “Don’t you think it’s time you decide whether to take that leap and finally trust me again?”

  Makenna grabbed hold of my hand and stepped forward. She looked up at me with a new determination set in her eyes, for the first time letting me see inside to her soul to a potential future emerging between us. “I never stopped loving you either, Sir.” Her admission was barely audible, but her words struck me like a bolt of lightning, giving me the power to push her beyond the boundaries we’d initially agreed upon. How did I know this? The word “Sir” was her way of giving me permission to play. A word we’d used many times before.

  She placed the letters on the nearest surface before she pressed her breasts up against my chest and pulled my head down to hers, where her tongue slipped into my mouth, causing my body to start to vibrate with the need to reclaim her.

  One of my hands went into her hair, tugging her head backward where I took control over the kiss, deepening it as I ravaged her mouth. The other grabbed her ass and pulled her flush against my body. I ground into her with my hardened length, showing her what I planned to do to her body. I pulled back only a moment to barely whisper, “You’re playing with fire, love. This body has only known my hand for the past five years. It craves you and only you. Are you prepared for what you’ve started?”

  I released her hair and saw her head immediately bow. Her eyes were half-lidded, looking up through her lashes as she whispered, “Do with me as you please, Sir. I’m yours to command.”

  I just about came in my pants at her reply. It took everything in me not to throw her over my shoulder and carry her upstairs to the guest bedroom like a caveman, and then strip her naked and have my way with her. But I knew eyes were upon us and I had to play it cool.

  I gently ran my hand down her cheek, and then pulled her ear close to my lips. “You are to go upstairs, remove every article of clothing, and assume your position in the middle of the bed. Am I understood?”

  A smile played across Makenna’s lips. “As you wish, Master.”

  Damn, that one word felt like Christmas, my birthday, Valentine’s, and every other holiday rolled up into one. She had just given me permission to dominate her body and extract every ounce of pleasure I could. I had five years of frustration built up, and I hoped her body was healed enough to handle all that I’d planned to do with her, because one round with Makenna would not be enough.

  I watched as she playfully crept up the stairs, continually looking back over her shoulder as she went. Kenna shook her ass a few times to entice me, but I needed no incentive. Her actions caused me to grab on to the granite countertop, wanting to snap a piece off to try and expend some energy. Damn that girl could get to me.

  Moving swiftly, I put the eggs, pancake batter, fresh fruit, butter, and syrup back into the refrigerator. Sure I was famished, but my hunger was for something more enticing and of the female persuasion. Just thinking about the taste of Makenna had my mouth already salivating.

  I took as long as I could, pacing back and forth in front of the stairs before taking them two at a time. I’d wanted to give her enough time to follow my instructions.

  After entering the bedroom, I turned to close the door, and then locked it for extra measure. I knew, based on her statements, that we had privacy here, no cameras, no listening devices, just solitude in our own personal space.

  When I twisted back around, let’s just say I almost forgot to breath. Makenna was kneeling in the center of the bed, naked as the day she was born, with her knees spread wide, allowing me to see every inch the body that belonged to me. I saw her arousal shimmering against the lips of her labia, which grew wetter by the moment, as her hardened clit poked through her folds, begging to be touched. Her scent permeated the air around me, pushing my level of restraint to the limit. Her folded arms were underneath her lower back while her hands grasped the opposite wrists, which forced her chest up and out, showing how hard her nipples were. They were just waiting for me to latch on.

  Taking a step forward, I pulled the polo shirt over my head before unbuttoning and unzipping my khakis. I saw her head lift slightly and her breath catch as she watched me remove my pants and boxers. I couldn’t help that my cock sprang to attention and pointed directly her way. It had a mind of its own, wanting to be buried deep inside her warmth.

  Once I was close enough, I reached out and ran the backside of my hand against the side of her face. She leaned into the gentle caress, proving to me she’d finally let down her guard. “You’re more beautiful than I’d remembered. You honor me, love, with your submission and trust.”

  Makenna didn’t lift her head or make eye contact with me. You could tell she still had years of submission training built into her psyche.

  “We haven’t played in a long time, love. I know you’ve been through a great deal over the years, so I need to know if your hard and soft limits still apply and if there are any additions. Please speak freely and we can discuss.” I hated asking this question, but knowing she suffered from PTSD, I didn’t want to do anything that might trigger a negative response. I wanted this time together to be special, memorable.

  Her voice was shaky, but determined. “The soft limits are the same. If you take me beyond what I’m comfortable with, I’ll use my safe word: honeydew. If I need to slow down, I’ll use the word “popcorn.” My hard limits are still similar, but I’d like to add no tying my hands behind my back. I’ll take a blindfold, but no covering my face completely, and no securing my hands and legs to a chair.”

  The items she’d listed were very specific and to the point, causing me to wonder. “Why are these hard limits now? And are there any words, phrases, or actions that might cause triggers?”

  She took a deep breath in, but held her position. “Because as a sniper on an elite team in the Air Force, I had to go through Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape, or SERE, training in the event I was taken hostage.” I swallowed hard, hating where this was headed. “Some of the training was intense and involved being treated like a prisoner of war. They tried to break us.” Her eyes closed and her face scrunched up, as if remembering something bad. “Let’s just say, the things I listed are definite triggers. I’m not aware of any others, but I can’t swear by it.”

  My insides were twisted in knots, knowing she had to go through all that. I wouldn’t know what SERE was like, but I’d had a few high school buddies opt for service instead of college and we’d kept in touch over the years. They couldn’t elaborate on the details of their training, other than being taught extreme survival techniques. However, every one of them had fear in their eyes when it was brought up.

  Makenna was no longer my fine porcelain
doll I’d thought breakable all those years ago. She was now a warrior woman, capable of doing things I’d never even dreamed off, including protecting me. I didn’t fear her but, instead, was more turned on than ever before.

  “I can follow those limits. Before we begin, I would like us to clear the air and have no more secrets between us. What do you say, sub?” I wanted to call her by her name or refer to her affectionately, but I needed her to know I meant business.

  “I’d like that, Sir. What are your concerns?” Her voice was hesitant.

  “Any time we discuss going back into my bedroom or talk about the shooter, you change the subject. Why do you avoid talking about it?”

  Her lips trembled and I could see her tense up. This is one reason I preferred Makenna to be naked: her body’s reaction told me everything, from her desires to her fears and everywhere in between.

  I continued to caress the side of her face. “I won’t be upset. I just need to know because I can sense it causes you unrest.”

  She pulled away from my touch but kept her position on the bed. “We can’t prove anything, but we feel the bullet might have been meant for me and not you.” I hadn’t expected these words. I waited quietly as she continued. “You had the drape pulled open where the shooter could easily see inside. I first believed he’d been sent to take you out, but up on the roof he went after me quite aggressively. It’s a miracle he didn’t hit me with another bullett.”

  Taking a deep breath in, she admitted, “Rick informed me the shooter had a picture of you and me right after I’d flipped you into the chair and straddled your legs. That picture came from the FBI camera. The other picture on the shooter was of me, taken by the camera we’d removed.”