On Her Master's Secret Service (23 page)

These were men with ties to Evans. Evans was quite the terrorist entrepreneur. Alex was almost certain Evans was using the club to launder money, and having control of the money would give Evans a certain amount of power in the cells.

These were either jihadist terrorists or they worked for cartels. And every single one of them was looking at Eve.

He sat down, tugging her into his lap. He wanted her on the floor, safely at his feet where they couldn’t see her, but he needed her expertise more than he needed her hidden away. That was what the old Alex did. Damn, but she’d gotten to him that night on the balcony. He’d been thinking about his actions all week.

Had he turned away from her? Had it been easier to focus on Evans than to try to deal with what had happened to them?

And it had happened to them. He’d spent too many years not acknowledging that they were truly in this together. Eve had been the victim and Alex the man who had failed her, but sometime that night, as he held her close and felt her breath on his skin, he’d discovered something important.

They had to survive this together or neither could really survive it at all. Eve was right that they needed to move on, but she was wrong about how they should do it.

She thought he needed someone whole? He couldn’t be whole without her.

And that meant allowing her to be the partner she needed to be.

He pulled her into his lap and she immediately responded, allowing her head to find his chest.

The door to the kitchens opened and Sean walked through carrying a plate, followed by several young men who looked like they’d been forced into proper serving attire. Sean had spent his time getting the kitchen staff in order. They were running like a well-oiled machine.

“This is promising,” one of the Middle Eastern men said. “The last time I was here, your cook was horrible. If you intend to entertain my associates, you have to be better.”

Sean was wearing a perfectly pristine white chef’s jacket. “Today’s luncheon starts with lobster ceviche. There’s a beet and endive salad. Our main course is a rubbed rack of lamb with a celery puree. Enjoy.”

Kristen walked by, opening a bottle of wine. “I am the bar manager and sommelier for the club. Hopefully for the clubs. I believe you will find this first offering pairs nicely with the lobster.”

Kristen was wearing a black jacket that she seemed to be having a bit of trouble with. She subtlety pulled the sleeves down a couple of times as though they kept riding up and she was trying to maintain a professional air.

She was taking pictures. One of the buttons on her jacket was a camera.

Adam would have some work to do tonight.

She stopped when she got to Jake, and her face tightened.
Fuck.
He had hoped that she wouldn’t recognize him, but apparently she’d really done her homework. She finished her job and nodded as she walked off, not sparing him another glance.

He knew an angry woman when he saw one.

Jesse Murdoch looked down at his lunch like he’d hoped for fries and a burger.

One of the investors turned to Murdoch. “You were a soldier, correct? I remember your face.”

Alex felt Eve tense. He cuddled her closer. She was interested in a reaction. He could feel it. He shifted her so she could see the younger man whose face had flushed immediately. He wasn’t particularly good at hiding his reactions.

“I did my time,” Jesse said in a hard voice.

The man next to him smiled, a smooth, practiced expression. “Yes, I rather thought that was you. I shouldn’t be too surprised to see you here. Smart man. You picked the right side.”

Jesse took a sharp breath and then slammed out of his seat, his chair barking across the floor. “I’m not hungry. I’ll be on the door outside.”

Jake snorted a little as the door slammed. “He’s a pistol, that one.”

Chazz frowned. “He can be a hothead, but he’s proven to be a loyal soldier.”

Eve was staring at the door, her brown eyes curious. She was interested in the young dumbass in an intellectual way. That made Alex interested as well. Was there something to the kid that he was missing?

“I believe our mutual friend would find him intriguing. You know how he loves to corrupt Americans,” a second man said.

Now Alex’s attention was focused. He maintained a quiet air, paying attention to Eve, feeding her soup as he took his own, but he was all about the mutual friend.

Chazz proved just how reckless he was. “Yeah,
Mikey
is going to love Jesse. He’s a little too soft on the pussy though. We need to teach that boy how to handle his scene. Master A should be able to do that. I think Master A could be good for all my men. He’ll get the women in line before the big boss shows up.”

Oh, he so wanted to meet the big boss. His heart beat a little faster. Evans was coming and soon. He needed that date. He needed to know where and when.

Eve stiffened slightly.

And he couldn’t hold her close because everyone was watching. She was supposed to be a pretty plaything. He couldn’t show his softness or they would know he wasn’t what he said he was.

She was scared, and he was going to fail her again.

Goddamn it. This was why he didn’t want her on this op.

“He seems fairly soft on women.” The third man stared at them, his nose wrinkling as though he found the entire thing distasteful.

He was losing them. He didn’t change his expression at all. “She’s behaving. I like to reward proper behavior.”

“Women should know their place whether they are rewarded or not,” the second man said. He turned to Chazz. “You said he was going to perform a scene. Is this what you meant?”

“No. A scene is much more involved.” Chazz nodded toward the door where Jesse stood. “I’ve brought in some equipment. If we choose to go this way with the clubs, we would need to invest in better quality ‘toys’ as we say in the lifestyle. We want everything to look good.”

The third man huffed a bit. “I don’t need equipment to bring my women in line. I simply need the back of my hand.”

Oh, that fucker would feel the back of Alex’s hand. Eve snuggled a little closer, her very presence calming him. It struck him rather forcibly that she hadn’t calmed him down in years. Since the divorce, since the incident, his blood pressure ticked up when she entered a room whether from guilt or fear of losing her, but after the week before, he felt different.

He was in control again, and she was his partner. It might not last past the mission, but he was going to enjoy it for now.

He had to put on a show because he’d just figured out what Chazz was doing and why.

“Up, pet.” He moved Eve off his lap as Jesse reentered the room carrying a whipping bench. The younger man moved easily, hefting the heavy bench like it weighed next to nothing.

“I was told to bring this thing in here.” He set it down a good twelve feet away from the table and then turned. He didn’t meet eyes with the men at the table, but he stared at Eve like she was a lamb going to slaughter.

The boy seemed to have a problem with D/s, but then if Chazz had been his only instructor, it was to Jesse’s credit that he had a problem.

“Thank you.” Alex turned to his audience. He got it now. He was the distraction. If Chazz hadn’t figured it out yet, he was about to help him along. This was what Evans wanted. This was why they’d come looking for a Dom in Residence.

Sean chose to make a very well-timed entrance with the second course. As the soup course was taken out, he managed to have a few words with him and Sean agreed to the plan.

Alex was about to make himself indispensable.

Jesse took up residence at the back of the room, his eyes squarely on that chair.

“Come, pet.” He reached into his well-worn kit and withdrew the silk rope. He’d switched to silk from jute as soon as he’d been able to afford it. In the last five years, these toys were the only presents she would accept from him, so they were top of the line. She was wearing a thin leather collar around her throat, the one he’d picked up for Amanda with little thought past the fact that it was supposed to be part of their cover. He didn’t like the look of that cheap thing against Eve’s silky skin.

He was going to buy her a new collar. Something with diamonds and maybe an emerald or two. It would look beautiful around her throat.

For the time being, she belonged to him and she would accept his gifts. Ian was right. He’d been a pussy for far too long. It was time to be her Dom again. Eve needed his domination. Without it, she’d become far too strict on herself. She needed to know it was all right to relax from time to time.

And he needed her to give him purpose.

“Why aren’t you in proper position?” He growled the words at her, forcing his fingers into all that hair and tugging lightly. Her head came back and a throaty gasp left her mouth.

It was an act. From the outsider’s point of view, he would seem brutal, but Eve’s easy compliance guaranteed she felt no pain. Eve had always enjoyed “angry Master” scenes, and they had played it out many times in front of an audience. This was a delicate dance they’d perfected long ago. She’d known exactly what he needed the minute he’d growled. He watched her eyes flare slightly and her body relax, sure signs that she was following his lead.

She sank down with him, her every move pure precision and grace. She’d fought so hard to gain her agility again. For the longest time he would wince every time he saw her practicing, a reminder of how he’d failed her.

But he needed to take his guilt out of the equation. Eve sank into a perfect slave pose. The new Alex had a sudden insight. It wasn’t a reminder of what she’d lost. It was an example of how fucking strong his wife was. She hadn’t let Evans take this part of her life.

They had both had a hand in letting Evans tear them apart. He’d spent years blaming the wrong people for their divorce. He’d allowed it.

He’d forgotten he was the Dom.

He held a hand out, presenting her to the company. “This is how my slave is to greet her Master. It reminds her always of her position. She is to serve me.”
To love me. To give me a reason to live. To honor me with her trust.

But he stopped at serve because these men wouldn’t understand the true beauty of the power exchange. But he knew one thing they would understand. They would understand the beauty of his submissive.

“Get on the chair, pet.”

He couldn’t miss the way her face flushed. She was nervous, but he knew damn well she wasn’t going to falter. Her eyes had dilated. She was getting aroused at the thought of discipline even in front of a group of men she didn’t know. She’d always been an exhibitionist and unashamedly so.

She kept her head bowed as she moved to the whipping chair. It wasn’t up to his standards, but it would have to do. He couldn’t exactly stop this brutal little exchange to explain that his sub was far too precious to use a substandard bench.

Still, his cock hardened the minute she placed herself across the bench. It was tilted in a way that brought her ass high in the air. The main part of the chair was a leather flat that ran the length of her torso but still gave Alex access to her pussy as it stopped right in the middle of her pelvis. He’d situated the chair to the side where the audience could see what he was going to do. They would be able to see the curves of her backside, but the sight of her naked pussy was only for him.

Her arms were placed on twin appendages that ran on either side of the chair, mirroring the ones for her legs.

“My pet is well trained,” Alex explained. “She will remain where I have placed her until such time as I allow her to move, but I am going to tie her down today for the purposes of this scene. A not so well-trained sub would require this.”

One of the “gentlemen” chuckled. “Certainly couldn’t have one getting away.”

Sean stood at the back of the room. No one seemed to have noticed that he hadn’t gone back to the kitchen. No. Not a single man was looking anywhere but exactly where Alex wanted them to look.

“Perhaps you gentlemen would prefer to stand. From your position now, you won’t be able to see my lovely pet’s skin as she takes my discipline.” He needed them standing up to prove his point.

Without hesitation, they rose.

He hated this. It was different at Sanctum. At Sanctum, everyone knew the rules. People knew what was expected of them. At Sanctum, showing off his sub was a thing of great pride for both Master and submissive.

Here, it was a necessity. This was why he hadn’t wanted to bring Eve with him.

She turned her face up slightly and gave him a little wink and a wiggle of that gorgeous ass of hers.

She was stronger than he gave her credit for. She knew the job, and he couldn’t have a better partner. His misgivings were about his possessive nature and not any damn weakness in his sub. His sub, his love, was the strongest person he knew. A well of strength opened in Alex. They could do this. They could do it together.

He didn’t hesitate again. He flipped her little skirt up. She’d been a very good pet. She wasn’t wearing any panties. Yeah, now he had their attention. Eve had the most gorgeous ass on the planet. No man could possibly look away.

And if a single one of the fuckers tried to touch her, they would find their hands on the floor and detached from their bodies.

He patted her gorgeous ass before moving to tie her hands. He made quick work. Eve often liked to be tied up. They had struggled with it at first. She’d spat out her safe word every time he’d tried to tie her down, but she’d kept at it. She’d insisted on trying every session until she could stand it again.

Holy fuck. Eve had been trying to tell him. Eve had been working through all her problems, and he’d seen it as nothing but a burden to be borne.

She’d been trying. How had he not seen that?

He paid special attention, making sure there was no way he could chafe her skin. He heard her sigh as he cinched the silk against her skin.

What the fuck had he been doing all this time? She trusted him. She’d shown him an awesome amount of trust. She’d put her body in his care even after they’d divorced. She had tied him up in a million rules and restrictions, but now he saw that for what it was. She’d been pushing him to see how far he would let his guilt take him. Every rule she’d placed on him had been a plea for him to push back, for him to be her Dom, to be the man she’d married.