White Collared Part Three: Revenge (8 page)

“You’ve covered your tracks pretty well, but your juvenile prints are still buried somewhere in the system. They matched the ones you submitted for your internship. Then of course you enrolled in undergrad with your previous name since you didn’t change it legally until you turned eighteen three weeks into the semester.”

Impressive and just a tad disturbing.
“And how did you access my juvenile prints?”

Rachel smiled. “I know a guy. It’s amazing what a pair of tits and a blowjob will get you these days.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not the information I was asking for.”

“Sorry. I’m not good at girl talk.”

“This isn’t girl talk.” Kate traipsed to her bike and pushed it around to the side of the building, Rachel following her.

“See? I didn’t even know enough to know that.”

Kate brought her Harley inside the building and relocked the door. “Why were you looking me up?”

“Doing my homework. What’s so special about an intern that she gets to work such a big murder case? Kate Martin, born Katerina Martini, the only child to Marissa and Henry Martini, changed her name the day she turned eighteen, perfect grade point average in undergrad, winner of the National Criminal Law Trial Advocacy Competition, suspected of having genius IQ but refused testing, killed her father in an accidental shooting. Shall I continue?”

Kate shook her head, amazed by the reporter’s knowledge. If it was that easy to access her past, who else had learned it? “No. I know my life story, thanks. What are you going to do with all the information?”

“That depends.” Rachel smirked and started for her Jeep.

Kate caught up to her. “On . . .?”

“On what you’re willing to give me.”

“Well, I’m not going to show you my tits if that’s what you’re asking,” Kate said as she slid in the passenger side of the truck.

Rachel stuck the key in the ignition and laughed. “I’m sure they’re spectacular, but that’s not what I’m after. I want an exclusive.”

Kate sighed. “Of course you do. So this is blackmail? You’ll go public with my childhood tragedy unless I give you information on the case?”

“Despite what you think, I’m not heartless. Besides, ruining your career would do nothing for mine.” Rachel put the car into drive and headed toward Kate’s apartment. “I have information about your client. Information the police will use to arrest him tomorrow.”

“And you got that information how?”

“I know another guy.”

“Of course. And in return . . .?”

Rachel slid a glance at her. “I want an interview with Deveroux. Obviously, Trenton can sit in and restrict your client from saying anything against his interest.”

“I can’t speak for Mr. Trenton.”

“Oh, I don’t believe that for a minute. You’ve got both those men wrapped tight around your finger. You may not do it intentionally, but you use your sexuality as much as I do to get ahead.”

A protest formed on her tongue, but she snapped her mouth shut. Was Rachel right?

“So, do we have a deal?” Rachel asked.

It might come back to bite her in the ass, but she didn’t think she had a choice. Hopefully, Nick would feel the same way. “Yeah. Deal.”

Rachel tossed her a card from the center console. “Fabulous. Give your boss my cell number. When he and I come to an agreement on the time and place of the interview, I’ll give him everything I have about the prosecutor’s star witness.”

Kate huffed out a breath. “You didn’t need me at all for this deal.”

As the Jeep idled in front of Kate’s apartment building, Rachel’s brows furrowed and a small crease formed above her nose. “Of course I did. Nick never would’ve agreed to it, but he’s got too much class to back out of a deal you made.” Her frown deepened. “Don’t let your hormones get the best of you.”

Kate released her seatbelt. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“If you say so. You’re young, so I’ll give you some advice. Trust no one. That way when they fuck you over, you won’t be surprised.”

Kate slid out of the Jeep. “What about you? Can I trust you?”

“Especially not me.” Rachel gave her the smile of someone who’d gotten everything she’d wanted. “Have Trenton call me soon before the deal becomes obsolete.”

Watching Rachel drive down the street, a prickling sensation snaked around her chest.

Kate suspected she hadn’t just made a deal with the devil’s mistress; she’d made one with the devil.

With the gun in her hand, she thoroughly checked every spot of her apartment for hidden intruders, and after confirming she was alone, she dialed Nick to tell him about her conversation with Rachel.

“Where did you two have this conversation?”

She started up the shower, eager to wash the slime of the deal from her skin. “I kind of had an accident on my way back from the hospital.”

“An accident?”

She heard the doubt in his tone, and although he was miles away, she felt the burn of his stare. “More like a car tried to run me down, and I jumped a curb.”

“What the hell? Why were you on your bike? Where was Jaxon?”

“I went alone. I needed some time to think, and I had the gun with me. It didn’t occur—”

“No. It didn’t occur to you to follow my directions, and we’ll talk about that more at the office. If it weren’t already too late, I’d fire your ass. I don’t know why you have a death wish, but if I have to tie you up to do it, I’ll make sure you’re protected. You stay with either Jaxon or me until we nail this son of a bitch or I swear to you, I will terminate your internship. Do you understand?”

She swallowed down the shame from disappointing him. “Yes, sir.”

He exhaled. “Good. I don’t like you making deals on my behalf, but I understand the importance in this case. I’ll call Rachel Dawson. And don’t tell Jaxon. I don’t want him worrying about it if it turns out to be nothing.”

They hung up, and, after a quick shower, she got dressed. Nick hadn’t gotten mad because she’d negotiated the deal with Rachel, but he’d almost blown a gasket over her failure to follow his directions. As someone who’d spent ten years without answering to anyone in her personal life, she didn’t know how to handle her two dominant men.

And there was no question Nick was dominant. It wasn’t what he said, but how he said it, and how she reacted to it.

She stuffed clothes for tonight into her duffel bag. She shouldn’t be thinking of Nick that way anymore. Not when she had Jaxon in her life.

A knock on her door alerted her to Jaxon’s arrival. She zipped up her duffel, threw it over her shoulder, and prepared herself for his wrath. As soon as she opened the door, he stormed in, slamming the door behind him. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were darker than the midnight sky in the middle of winter.

She dropped the duffel on the ground. “Guess you spoke with Nick.”

“I should’ve heard it from you not your . . . boss,” he spit out with contempt. “I should’ve never permitted you to go by yourself. What kind of man lets his woman go off alone with a murderer on the loose?”

“You’re not mad at me?”

“No.” He tugged her against his chest and tipped up her chin. “I’m disappointed you didn’t call me when someone ran you off the fucking road and that I had to learn about it from my pissed-off friend. He blamed it on me, and he was absolutely right.”

“But I’m the one who convinced you I needed time to think.”

“Because I knew better.” He pounded his chest with a fist. “It’s my job as your Dom to take care of you. I failed you like I failed Alyssa. And I can’t go through that again.” He released her from his hold and moved back, leaving her cold. “I respect your need to stay independent, but it’s not enough for me. I’m not one of those Doms who can switch it on and off or keep it limited to the bedroom.” He raked his fingers through his black hair and squeezed his eyes shut. “I thought for a brief moment that I could change. For you.” When his eyes opened, they were glassy. “I can’t.”

She pressed her hand to her neck, needing the pain to ground her, but the bruise had healed. “I don’t understand what it is you want from me.”

“I want the power to punish you when you’ve disobeyed me and to reward you for your obedience. I want what I didn’t have with my wife. Your total submission.”

Her heart stuttered, and a rush of heat flooded her lower belly, making her pussy quiver and her clit swell. She tried to control her breathing, but she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs, as if the thought of punishment and rewards had taken root and grown inside her, leaving room for nothing else.

She was a feminist. Believed in equality between the genders. When she’d dreamed about the future, she’d seen herself as a high-powered, white-collared professional, an attorney with the respect of her peers. Had a lover ever factored into her fantasies? Of course. But as hot as Jaxon’s statement had made her, never had she dreamed of answering to her lover for her actions. She hadn’t even wanted to get married, so how could she give away the amount of control Jaxon needed?

Now that she’d finally cried, the waterworks flowed more easily, and tears stung her eyes. “I don’t know if I can give you that.”

His gaze zeroed in on her tears, and he stepped forward, giving her the hope that he’d hold her and tell her he didn’t need anything more than what she could give. Then he stopped, and without him saying the words, she knew she’d lost him. “And I can’t live without it. Not anymore.”

He shouldn’t have to. He deserved more than the measly scraps of submission Alyssa gave him. And as much as her body was onboard with Jaxon as its master, the protests in her head kept her from making a promise she wasn’t sure she could keep. But oh, how she wanted to try.

She folded her arms over her chest and took a deep breath. “What about when we go to Benediction?”

He flinched. “We’ll put on an act.”

She nodded and then turned away, not wanting him to see the pain in her eyes and afraid she’d change her mind.

At least they’d have tonight.

Because, after all, the show must go on.

Chapter Nine

H
AVING NOTHING APPROPRIATE
for Benediction, she wore the same skirt, corset, and mask as she’d worn the first time. Jaxon, on the other hand, wore a tight black shirt and black leather pants that showcased his defined muscles, especially his ass. It killed her not to touch him.

They’d spent the afternoon together at her apartment, her catching up on her independent study paper and doing some research on electrical play and him on the phone with various people. As hard as she’d tried not to eavesdrop, she couldn’t help listening when he’d used his Dom voice. From what she’d deciphered, he seemed to use it for certain employees, and she wondered if they were female.

Nick had called to check up on her and to let them know nothing had come up on a background check into Reverend Pierce. He reminded her that he’d pick her up in the morning at Jaxon’s house.

Even knowing nothing would happen between them, just spending time in his presence had kept her on edge most of the day. She’d had to change her panties twice. And both times, as she’d gotten up to leave the room, Jaxon’s eyes had darkened with arousal, as if he knew what she was going to do.

It had taken all her strength not to rip his clothes off when they’d gone to his house for him to change into his clothes for the club. No man should look so good in leather.

They met with Master Cole, who assured them the cameras would capture everything that happened in the electrical playroom and that the dungeon monitors would be on standby during her session. Master Cole had never heard Reverend Pierce mentioned as a member of the BDSM community.

So it appeared they’d hit another dead end. Hopefully Anthony Rinaldi had something useful for them because they were running out of time, especially since the prosecutor had the witness who would allegedly destroy Jaxon’s alibi.

After completing her health survey and signing a waiver of liability for electrical play, she clung to Jaxon as he led her down the metal stairs into the basement of the mansion.

To the dungeon.

Not that she was scared. In fact, in a way she felt like she was going home. A home where she belonged.

But it gave her a chance to touch Jaxon, and she wasn’t going to allow it to pass.

The bass of the music and scents of musk and leather floated up to greet her. Small lanterns with flickering lights like candle flames adorned the wall.

As if it were a conditioned response, her body instantly became aroused by the sounds of pleasure and pain—the slaps and thuds, grunts and moans.

At the bottom of the stairs, they entered an open room with high beams painted black. More lanterns lit the dim space. Two blond women and one red-headed man, all naked with ball-gags in their mouths, hung sideways, bound by rope and suspended from the ceiling.

Jaxon pushed her forward, moving them farther into the room. Black and white photographs hung on the maroon walls. She wanted to look more closely, but from her vantage point, she could see that they were nudes of men and women in submissive positions. Each photo possessed a pop of color, from a purple flogger to a red sash. Still, the beautiful pictures had nothing on the reality presented before her.

One man lay on a bench, his crimson ass presented to his Mistress, who spanked him with a long, wooden paddle. Just past them, a man who was crying stood in a stockade while another man stroked his cock through a hole. Was he crying from pain or pleasure?

Beyond those scenes, the wall changed from plaster to cobblestones as if it were truly part of a medieval dungeon. Her feet practically floated over to that area of their own volition. Bolted to the wall were chains and empty manacles, and smooth stone replaced the bamboo flooring. She rubbed her wrist, thinking about being chained to the wall, completely at Jaxon’s mercy. What would he do with her? Whip her? Torture her?

A loud moan from behind them caught her attention. She twirled to see a woman cuffed to a black-lacquer St. Andrew’s cross, her body swaying and arching in an erotic dance at each fall of the flogger, which was wielded by another woman.

Kate went hot like she’d taken a double shot of gin. Envy cycled through her veins. She wanted to be the one under the flogger. To experience the heavy rush of endorphins flooding her system. She could almost feel the whip’s kiss on her skin.

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