Black Listed (13 page)

She returned the hug, grateful to have her as a friend. “Thanks, Gracie.”

Rachel stood and strode to her side. “Don't forget the FBI owes Logan and me a favor. We'd be happy to use it for you.” As if Lisa could forget that Rachel and Logan had foiled a terrorist plot that would have resulted in hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of deaths.

“And if you need legal representation, please don't call anyone else,” Kate insisted. “We're all here for you. Don't ever forget it.”

Gracie clapped her hands excitedly. “Wait until Danielle gets back from her honeymoon. I guarantee she's going to convince Cole to give you a free membership to Benediction.”

“She doesn't need a free membership,” Rachel pointed out. “Sawyer's rich as hell. Not to mention, he owns his own sex club in Vegas.”

Gracie pouted. “Now that you're back with him, does that mean you're going to move away?”

Wasn't that the million-dollar question? She dropped onto the chair in front of Gracie's vanity. “We haven't discussed it. I think it's too soon to make any drastic changes to our lives. And we're still not sure who's behind the threats.”

“Threats? What threats?” Kate asked, reminding Lisa a little too late that the girls didn't know about her recent hospital stay.

“Someone cut Sawyer's brakes and vandalized Lisa's condo,” Rachel shared.

Gracie waved her hand. “Ah, there's always some danger happening around here. You'll get used to it.”

“Sawyer and his guys are on it,” Rachel said to Kate and Gracie. She turned to Lisa. “They'll figure it out for you. I swear, they should start their own security company or something. They've got mad computer skills.”

Based on the fact that his friend Oz had already managed to access information on Chad's bank account, she believed it. She'd known that Sawyer had some experience with hacking. If the rest of his friends were as good as him, she had no doubt they'd trace the funds to find the hit man. And if it turned out to be a dead end, hopefully they would find another lead from the names she'd provided them.

Gracie's cell phone buzzed. Glancing at the screen, she smiled. “Sawyer's ready for you. I'm supposed to get you dressed.”

A pulsing heat bloomed between her legs. “You are?”

Her friends all smiled at her.

Uh-oh.

Gracie went into her closet and returned with an outfit. “Here we are.” Frowning, she cocked her head, assessing it. “I'm thinking innocent schoolgirl. What do guys think?” Piece by piece, she removed the items of clothing from the hanger and held them up.

There wasn't much to the outfit. An extremely short pleated red and black plaid skirt and a white half-blouse that tied below the breasts. White thigh highs.

No panties—of course.

“Oh! Don't forget the shoes.” Gracie ran back into her closet and grabbed some patent leather flats.

What did Sawyer have planned for tonight? He'd told her to expect intense. She couldn't imagine that meant teacher-student role play. But why else would he have her wear these clothes?

While her friends talked to each other, she went into the bathroom and changed into the outfit. The skirt was even shorter than she'd thought. It only barely covered her ass. And the blouse was almost sheer, the pink of her nipples visible underneath it.

When she came back into the room, her friends were waiting by the open door.

Gracie looked at her appreciatively, making her blush. “I'll leave your clothes in the coat room at the entrance, so you can change back before you leave. It's time to take you over to the fantasy rooms. They're on the same level as the residences, but they're not accessible from here. If you're uncomfortable walking through the house like that, I can lend you a robe,” she offered.

Did she care if other people saw her half-naked? Lisa Smith might be modest, but she wasn't. Besides, if her Master had wanted her to wear a robe, he would've provided her with one. He expected her to parade around the club this way. Even though he wouldn't be with her, he probably got off on the thought. And truth be told, so did she.

“I'm good,” she said. “I'm ready.”

Kate and Rachel went downstairs with her, but they parted ways at the stairs that led up to the fantasy rooms. Gracie hooked her arm in Lisa's and took her upstairs, using a keypad to allow them entrance into the hallway that led to the different rooms. The hallway was dim, only about four people wide, with doors to the room on the left and windows that allowed for a view inside.

She shivered, the idea of public sex both unnerving and arousing. For some reason, that had never been high on her list of kinks, which even she had to admit was strange, since she loved a small orgy. She'd long since stopped trying to figure out why certain sexual activities got her hot and others left her cold. Her Master had taught her she was just wired this way and that everyone had limits. Exhibitionism was a soft limit for her. She'd try it, but it wasn't something she preferred to do.

As Gracie led her down the long hallway, past each door that led to another fantasy, she couldn't help peeking through the windows to watch the scenes unfolding—her favorite being the two men getting each other off in a good old-fashioned sixty-nine—but Gracie was all business, keeping her eyes forward and walking in a brisk pace that didn't allow for Lisa to linger.

She realized this was Gracie the slave, a woman who didn't stop to play voyeur because she was ordered to bring Lisa to Sawyer. It was odd to see her so quiet when her friend typically didn't stop talking for a second. Although Lisa considered herself Sawyer's slave, Gracie served all the Dominants at Benediction. To her, it sounded awfully exhausting, but Gracie seemed to love it.

For Lisa, serving Sawyer allowed her to put all her fears and concerns out of her head and focus on him. She didn't have to worry about who was trying to kill them or what her friends thought about her now that they knew about her past. She only needed to focus on pleasing Sawyer and the sensations coursing through her body. Role play provided her with a new identity, one that wasn't for the purpose of conning a mark, but for pleasing her Master and herself.

Gracie stopped in front of a closed door and turned to her. Lisa noticed with relief that the window was covered by blinds and that no sound filtered into the hallway. Her heart banged against her chest as her anticipation peaked.

“Sawyer's inside.” Gracie licked her lips nervously. “I'm supposed to give you this before I go.”

Placing her dainty hands on Lisa's shoulders, Gracie leaned in, sealing her soft lips over hers. Surprised, Lisa squeaked, but she quickly surrendered, closing her eyes and falling into the headspace where all judgment disappeared and she could embrace her unique sexuality without criticizing herself for it.

She'd never been attracted to Gracie, but the girl knew how to kiss, her plump lips soft, her tongue unhurried. She tasted like strawberries and freedom. And if Gracie wasn't one of her best friends, she would've begged Sawyer to ask her to join them.

Her friend pulled away first, a shy smile lighting up her beautiful face. “Have fun tonight, and don't do anything I wouldn't do. Of course, I do everything.” She tossed a laugh over her shoulder as she left.

Lisa didn't hesitate before opening the door to the fantasy room. She stepped inside, her eyes immediately falling on Sawyer dressed in a policeman's uniform. A cane rested along the wall, and next to the cane was a large cardboard box. Otherwise, the room was empty except for an ominous black leather spanking bench and a metal folding chair sitting in the middle of the space.

Goose bumps popped up on her arms. She didn't know what he had planned, but she did know one thing.

He made for one sexy cop.

His eyes heated as he raked his gaze from top to bottom and back again. Oh, he definitely liked what he saw, although she still had no idea who she was supposed to be. Then, without warning, he narrowed his eyes, his lips tightening with displeasure. Guess she was going to find out.

Their scene had begun.

S
AWYER STALKED TOWARD
her, his fingers hooked around his belt. With each step, he looked more dangerous, more formidable.

As a criminal, she'd never been particularly comfortable around the police. Her gut churned, a sense of unease drifting into her consciousness, and for a split second, she considered saying her safe word.

But this was Sawyer. He wanted this scene. So she wanted to give it to him.

She smiled sweetly at him, playing a role that fit her costume. “Can I help you, officer?”

He yanked her arm and flipped her around. Holding her tight, he walked her forward until she pressed against the wall. “You can help me by putting your hands behind your back and facing the wall, young lady. You're under arrest.”

Her body shook from the intense arousal at seeing Sawyer dressed as a cop.

Maybe she was reading too much into it, but something seemed off with him. Yet at the same time, his powerful intimidation had already made her thighs dampen with her arousal.

She peered over her shoulder at him and batted her eyelashes. “What are you arresting me for, officer?”

He pushed his erection against her ass. “You know what you did. Are you ready to confess?”

“I can't confess to something I haven't done. I'm innocent.”

He dropped his head forward to speak into her ear. “Innocent? Dressed like that? Your skirt's so short, I bet if you bent over I'd see your panties, girl, wouldn't I?”

Her nipples hardened painfully as she turned her head slightly, her lips grazing his whiskered chin. “No, sir. I'm not wearing any.”

His arm snaked around her waist, and he flipped her around to face him. His eyes were wild, as if he was barely maintaining control. “Your sweet pussy isn't going to get you out of trouble this time. It's time for you to pay for your crimes. And it's going to hurt.”

He marched her over to the bench and bent her facedown over it. Using the attached straps, he secured her so that she couldn't move.

A cane appeared in front of her face. “Kiss it,” he ordered.

He'd warned her he'd get rough tonight, and to her, nothing said rough like a good caning. Her gaze flicked to his as she softly gave the cane a lover's kiss.

“Count out each one and ask for another until you get to six.” He momentarily broke character, his stance softening. “You need to say anything before I start?” He was giving her the chance to use her safe word.

“Yes, officer.” She smiled up at him. “Fuck you.”

The skin around his lips twitched, as if he was suppressing his own smile. “Apparently you need to be taught a lesson.” He blatantly adjusted his erection, tempting her with his covered dick. “And I'll be happy to give it to you.”

Her mouth watered for a taste of him. But he didn't take out his cock.

Damn it.

He did, however, flip up her skirt and smooth his hand over her bare bottom.

She enjoyed the nice, knowing the naughty was soon to follow. He didn't make her wait long. His touch disappeared, and she heard him lumber backward, giving himself the room to really swing that cane.

The cane replaced his hand, the smooth wood gliding over her skin like a lover's caress,
down, down, down
. Sawyer slipped it under her, getting it slick with her arousal as he slid it back and forth over her pussy, the end of it brushing against her clitoris.

Air sawed in and out of her lungs at an alarming rate, her core tightening and her heart pounding. She was
this
close to climax when he ripped the cane away, leaving her unfulfilled. “Put it back,” she ordered, forgetting her submissive role.

“You're not in charge here, girl. Just for that, I'm adding one more strike of the cane. Lucky number seven.” He chuckled. “Well, lucky for me.”

Sweet anticipation flowed through her limbs, the fear of the upcoming pain making her pussy dampen and her nipples peak into tight little points that poked against the shirt's fabric.

She processed the swish of the cane swinging through the air a second after the sharp pain surged through her left butt cheek like a flame to kindling. Heat sliced down her leg. She waited until the burn dulled to a manageable ache. “One. Please, officer, may I have another?”

His long silence kept her in suspense, the only sounds being her breathing and the beat of her heart.

Whoosh!

She jerked against the restraints, air trapped in her lungs as the cane hit again, not on her other cheek as she'd anticipated, but right above the first. “Two. Please, officer, another?” she asked through gritted teeth.

This time he didn't make her wait. The sting spread, warmth suffusing her pussy. Everything throbbed. Her ass. Her pussy. Her breasts. Hell, even the soles of her feet. But rather than fight against it, she wrapped her arms around it and invited it in. Welcomed it.

The world shrank until they were the only people who remained. Master and slave. Husband and wife.

Floating from the endorphins released into her bloodstream, she barely remembered begging for the next five strikes or the pain that followed. All that existed was the pulsing in her pussy and the need to please her Master.

At some point, she was vaguely aware that the beating had ended and Sawyer was rubbing cream on her sore ass. She sighed, enjoying the waves of bliss rolling over her.

“I don't think the caning did the trick,” he said, coming around to stand in front of her. “You enjoyed it too much. This was about teaching you a lesson.” He unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, the thick head of it bobbing only inches from her mouth. “Maybe taking my dick in your throat will shut that back-talking mouth of yours.”

Or maybe she'd talk back all the time so he'd have to administer this kind of punishment more often.

Still riding on the high of her caning, she parted her lips. He fucked her mouth with total abandon, reaching for his own pleasure rather than seeking hers. She sunk into that place where satisfying her Master became her whole reason for living, working hard to give him the climax he deserved.

In mere minutes, his come spurted into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat, leaving her spent and tired. She closed her eyes.

“Don't go to sleep on me, girl. We're not done. I still haven't gotten the truth out of you yet.”

After tucking his cock back into his pants, he released her from the bench and helped her to her feet. His arm around her waist, he led her to the chair. “Sit and spread your legs.”

She sat demurely, wincing at the ache of her ass as it made contact with the seat, and crossed her legs at the ankles. Her eyes widened in faux innocence. “But you'll see my pussy.”

Leering like a dirty old man, he kept his gaze focused on her skirt. “Should have thought about that when you got dressed.”

That almost got a laugh out of her, since he'd been the one to not only choose her outfit but to omit the panties. Instead, she played along and spread her legs, slowly, inch by inch, teasing him.

He rummaged through the cardboard box, pulling out a silver vibrator and a strap with a pink jelly-looking thing hanging on it. He kneeled in front of her. “Spread your legs.”

She heard his sharp inhale of breath and felt his hands trembling as he slid the silver bullet vibrator inside of her. She tried to stay quiet, not giving the officer the satisfaction of a moan, but her body slid forward a bit, as if begging him for more.

He chuckled, low and dark, before reaching for the strap, which she could now see was a clitoral vibrator shaped like a butterfly. His thumb flicked at her clitoris, making it swell out from its hood, and he placed the butterfly directly on it before connecting the two ends of the strap to ensure it stayed on her.

After going back to the box, he returned with some sheer scarves. His eyes blazed as he crouched, tying her ankles to the legs of the chair. He wound another scarf around her wrists and secured her with her arms behind her back.

He had her just where he wanted her.

Now what was he going to do with her?

He whipped out his cell and jabbed at it. The vibrator inside of her began buzzing.

She smiled, impressed by his ingenuity. A vibrator controlled remotely by a cell phone. She wouldn't have expected any less from her techie husband.

Standing in front of her, he crossed his arms. “Tell me about Chad Winters.”

The smile slid from her face. “What?”

Sawyer gave no reaction to her discomfort, his expression set into cold stone. “You conned him. How did you do it?”

Black list.

The words were on the tip of her tongue. She didn't want to talk about her past. Bad enough she had to write out the names for him. Was that what this scene was about? He was using it to truly interrogate her?

He'd honor her safe word. Would end the scene immediately if she uttered it or the club word, “red.” It would be so easy. So why couldn't she get her mouth to speak them?

Because he was her Master.

And she loved him.

He'd built this scene not only for himself, but for her. To give her the choice, yet pretend she didn't have one. Somehow, dressed as an innocent girl, she found the courage to give him the truth.

“I . . . ” She swallowed, the memory crashing into her. “He wanted a comic book, but he was cheap, even back then with all his millions. I told him I could get it for him for only fifty thousand. He gave me the money. I didn't get him the comic book.”

Sawyer stared at her expectantly, as if encouraging her to continue. When she didn't, he fiddled with his phone again, setting off the butterfly vibrator.

A reward for her answer?

“And Corbin Draper of Colorado Springs,” he said tersely. “Tell me about him.”

She shook her head. “I don't remember.”

He turned off the vibrators. “You mean you don't want to remember. If you want me to go easy on you, you'll try. Now what did you do to Draper?”

Just like with Chad, she couldn't remember much about him other than the con itself. “I pretended I was an event planner. He gave me twenty-five thousand dollars to organize his mother's ninetieth birthday party. I spent two and pocketed the rest.”

The vibrators flipped on.

Despite her answering honestly, Sawyer's entire body tensed. “Did you fuck him?”

“No,” she whispered, on the verge of tears.

The buzzing inside her grew stronger, a gift for her honesty.

She didn't want it. Her body was aroused, but her heart was breaking.

“Ronda Sykes of Baton Rouge.”

Tears stained her cheeks. “Please, Sawyer. I don't want to do this.”

He shrugged. “You've got your safe word. You remember it? Then if you want to use it, go ahead.”

Hell yes, she wanted to use it. But he wanted to know about her past. So she was going to give it to him. “Ronda was my business partner. We were going to open a nail salon together. Once my name was on the account, I took the money and left town.”

He arched a brow. “Business partners? Is that it?”

“No.” Her gaze clung to his as she gave her honest answer. “We were lovers.”

“There were more than fifty people on that list you gave me. Fifty people you duped with your lies. How many of those did you fuck? How many, Annaliese?”

“Please don't do this,” she begged.

“How many?” he shouted.

“Eighteen.”
Damn him.
“Forgive me. Eighteen, including you.”

She sobbed now, the tears coming fast and heavy. He'd gutted her. Ripped her open and left her exposed. The caning, the humiliation, the forced blow job, none of that had hurt like this. Yet at the same time, she felt the heavy weight of her past lessen with each tear she shed. She didn't understand how he'd known what she carried inside of her when she herself hadn't known.

He kissed her tenderly on the brow. “I love you, Annaliese. You don't need my forgiveness. You need your own.”

He loved her?

Cranking the vibrators to their highest level, he gave her the ultimate reward for her surrender to him.

The pleasure was brutal and unforgiving, the vibration on her exposed clit like a live wire, sending sparks dancing along her spine and causing her pussy to burst into flame. She screamed as the climax tore into her without forgiveness, her shuddering body no longer in her control.

Sawyer moved to stand between her legs, gently wiping away her tears with his thumb. “How many people have you called Master?”

“Only you,” she whispered.

He dragged his wet thumb down her cheek and to her lips, painting them with her tears. “How many people have had their whole hand in you?”

She gasped from the memory. “Only you.”

He tipped her head back by her chin. “How many people have you loved?”

There was no other answer but the truth. “You. Only you, Master.”

His eyes darkened. “You. Are. Fucking. Mine.” Claiming her, he kissed her with a ferocity she didn't understand.

But she didn't need to. She kissed him back, tangling her tongue with his until she became dizzy. And when he unknotted the scarf around her wrists, she drove her fingers into his hair, pulling him to her, greedy for him.

“I need to fuck you now,” he said roughly. Crouching between her thighs, he quickly untied the scarves from her ankles and removed the vibrators. He released his beautiful cock, giving her no time to admire it before he rolled a condom down the length. He yanked her to her feet and lifted her off the ground. “Hold on.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist, clinging to him for support. Kissing her as if there was no tomorrow, he marched forward, slamming her back into the wall. There was no warning before his cock thrust inside her eager pussy, hammering into her as if he hadn't had an orgasm in days, rather than mere minutes.