Insurmountable (Serpentine #1) (8 page)

Alley skipped out of the bathroom and straddled my lap on the couch.

“I have eyebrows again,” she said, wiggling them.

It had been two weeks since I’d sent her down to do laundry and she’d returned with her hair butchered and her eyebrows waxed off. I’d refused to let her go back the following week. She’d argued it, but I had been out of the building almost all week scouting a possible new recruit for the security team, and I wanted her to myself that day.

Or so it made a damn good argument.

“Really?” I brushed back her hair. “You call those eyebrows?”

She frowned and rolled her eyes. “You’re an ass.”

“That’s my job.” I grabbed the back of her hair—still too short to really get a good fistful—and pulled her against me, until her lips waited millimeters from mine. Parted and ready. I could feel her breath on my skin and smell the sweet musk of her body wash. “Your job is to be beautiful and obedient.”

“Wrong girl,” she whispered, and I flipped her to the couch, pouncing on top of her as she landed.

I pinned her hands above her head and kissed the top of her exposed chest while she squirmed beneath me. She was learning to push my buttons, just as I’d set out to find all of hers.

I didn’t make a habit of letting the girls get away with that shit, except for Alley. I wasn’t about to drag her back down to that place where she didn’t speak and nearly killed herself. I’d much rather have a mouthy, sometimes bratty, slave who kept me entertained. Pushing each other was a therapy we both needed.

She was a first for me in so many ways. A completely new experience in a world where those were few and far between.

I pushed my hand up her shirt, and she arched into my touch.

“Want to help me bake cookies?” she asked with a smirk.

“I bought you the stuff, isn’t that enough?” The alarm beeped on my phone to remind me of the appointment I had in town. “Besides. I have to go.”

I smacked her hip, then shoved up her shirt and kissed her stomach. “I intend to be back before you leave so I can keep an eye on things.”

“Fine.” She sighed. “Hope your meeting goes well, Master.”

“Just stay out of trouble, and remember that burned cookies probably won’t earn you many friends.”

* * *

I took a seat in the back corner of a local coffee shop, taking a sip of the drink I’d bought solely to divert attention. At promptly ten o’clock the man I’d come to meet, Kirk, walked in the door. He glanced around the room, spotted me, then walked casually over to join me.

I’d been watching Kirk on and off for the last couple of months. Ever since our old supplier got picked up for being a moron and doubling in drug trafficking. One of my connections recommended that I make contact with Kirk and assured me that he could hook us up with any of the supplies we needed for the Retreat. While some things were just a few clicks away, others required some legwork, and that’s where Kirk came in. His job was to save me time and trouble, and so far, he’d done just that.

As an added bonus, my supposed second in command, Gabe, hated his guts. I hated Gabe, his asinine comments and lecherous treatment of the women. He soared leaps and bounds over acceptable behavior—even in our profession because it made it impossible to trust him with any of the girls. Kirk had hinted that he’d be interested in a regular job and since we’d brought a regular doctor on staff who’d agreed to make arrangements for medical supplies, I considered bringing Kirk on staff as well.

Even if only to fuck with Gabe.

But I had a feeling Kirk could do much more than that. I knew people. I watched people. And my instincts were never wrong.

Kirk sat back in the seat across from me and crossed his arms. “I was surprised to get your invite. I figured following me around was more your style these days. I’m really hoping you have another job for me.”

I pushed a manila envelope across the table. “You said you’re interested in permanent employment.”

“And you want references?” he said sardonically.

“You can fuck with Gabe all you like, jerk his chain, and get your jollies by pushing his buttons, but—”

Kirk put up his hands. “Just tell me what you want.”

“I’m assuming you can do your homework and you know what I do.”

“I know you go through an awful lot of medical equipment—or used to. Speaking of which, it’s been a while since you’ve called on me. I was beginning to feel a little unloved.”

I shook my head. What a sense of humor—no wonder Gabe hated him. “Well, I did do my homework. You cross me and you cross an organization that currently spans the world.”

“In other words—” he drew a line with his finger across his neck. “I’ve done my digging. Everyone who’s anyone knows about the Retreat. I hear it’s the place to be on a weekend night.”

“Some say it’s the place to be any night.” I flipped open the folder and tapped the first page. “Since you’re familiar with the nature of the place, which of these men would you let in our doors.”

He dropped his head, taking a moment to scan the first page. “No.”

“Why?”

“Drunk and disorderly. Domestic disturbance. He sounds like a pain in the ass.” He looked me dead in the eye, knowing he’d pointed out exactly what I’d wanted. He had gotten one right that my current team had let slip by, but the next shouldn’t have been so easy.

Or so I thought.

Kirk flipped the page and immediately snorted. “No, again.”

He’d picked up on that more easily than I’d expected. “Why?”

He paused. “I recognize the ink on his neck. Stitch’s gang. Can’t mean anything but trouble.”

I scoffed and shook my head, thinking he might work out even better than I’d planned. “Maybe he’s reformed,” I said with a smirk.

“And you scoff at my humor.” He flipped over the page and studied the next sheet. “No red flags. He has money to spare and no prior convictions, but I’m sure he has some dirty laundry somewhere to be dug up.”

“Why is that?”

“No one who wants into a sex retreat doesn’t. You don’t just jump right into the deep end without learning to swim—unless you’re a complete fool.” He closed the folder and pushed it back toward me. “I’d make sure I knew something about that dirty laundry in case he gets ugly later.”

“And what’s your dirty laundry?”

He sat back again and shrugged. “You said you did your digging. What’d you find?”

“A few traffic violations and an assault charge for punching a drug dealer.” The latter I certainly couldn’t hold against him—in fact, I appreciated the sentiment behind it—but I wanted to hear his explanation.

He leaned across the table, his lips white with tension. “He was an asshole who tried to sell to my sixteen-year-old cousin.”

“No qualms. We don’t tolerate drugs on our property. Do you have a sister?”

You never really notice how much someone moves until he goes stone still. “I did.”

So, the girls might strike a chord with him
. “You sure you can handle working at the Retreat?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“You ever work in security? I need someone to help me watch over the girls. Make sure no one steps out of line and make sure no one gets inside who will cause trouble. We’re in charge of everyone and everything that goes in and out.”

“I did a private job for a while. Watching over my uncle’s apartment building down by Waller Street. Until I punched a drug dealer, that is.”

Consistent with every other time I’d encountered him, his answers were easy, not forced or unnatural, and he didn’t fidget or search the room for answers like he needed time to consider. Rather, he seemed to say exactly what was on his mind. I liked him.

“You interested in the job?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Do I get to fuck with Gabe?”

“I’ll pay you extra for it. But to be honest, your mere presence will do that. If you want the job, we’ll be having dinner with the boss at seven tonight.” I gathered the papers and stood. “Someone will be at your apartment to pick you up at six to bring you to meet me before dinner. Formal attire.”

By the time I finished the last batch of cookies, I felt like a baking expert. Four dozen cookies. It wouldn’t feed every single girl in the building, but not all them would be in the Commons anyhow. After they cooled, I packed them all up in a plastic container and slid them down the side of a laundry bag. Perfectly disguised until I needed them.

Both of the bags were packed to capacity, and there was still dirty laundry in the apartment, but that was Miles’s fault for not letting me do anything the week before.

Just as I was about to hoist them both up and be on my way, the apartment door opened and Miles stepped in.

“Thought I told you to wait until I got back,” he said, kissing my forehead.

“Not in so many words. I just want to get this over with.”

“I’ll be in the security room in case anything happens.”

I smiled, but it didn’t really make me feel better. I needed to handle this situation on my own if I stood a chance of gaining any respect among the girls.

On my own I headed to the elevator, down to the Commons, and right into the group of girls who’d harassed me two weeks earlier. Again, I pressed a smile to my face, greeting them as I passed by and entered the laundry room. While I packed two washers to capacity, I heard the door open behind me and took a step to the side, so that I could see who had entered in the reflection on the dryers.

Just one girl, Lux, if I remembered correctly. She’d been one of the girls to question Kat as she ripped off my eyebrows.

“Didn’t think you’d be back,” she whispered.

“My Master needs laundry.” I snapped the lids closed and switched on each machine. “You all aren’t going to scare me off.”

I picked up the laundry bags, feeling the weight of the cookies, and moved to the folding table—where I’d been when the girls had attacked me. I pulled the plastic container out of the bag and watched Lux’s eyes widen.

“I’m not the enemy,” I said, popping off the lid. “I don’t want to be and I don’t think I’m better than anyone.”

Quite the opposite, in fact. I’d been on the verge of breaking when Miles had taken me in—in my mind that made me weaker than the other girls.

Taking a cookie for myself, I slid the open container across the table. “Truce?”

“Kat will be pissed.” She chewed on her lip for a moment, staring at the cookies. Then her hand shot out, grabbing a cookie and shoving it on her mouth. “Oh, my god.”

She closed her eyes and slowly chewed.

“Good, I hadn’t made cookies since I was like eight,” I said.

Lux covered her mouth, laughing while she still had a mouthful of double chocolate chip cookie.

Two more girls came in, both carrying bags of laundry, but they each stopped as soon as they saw the cookies. I inched the container in their direction. They looked at each other, dropped the laundry, and each grabbed a cookie.

I didn’t know either of their names and as well as I could remember, neither of them had been around the day I was attacked. “I’m Alley,” I said.

One of them snorted. “Everyone knows who you are.” She had jet black hair straight to her waist and beautiful golden eyes. “I’m Tryst, and this is Doll.”

None of us ever used our real names, just the stupid names given to us when we were “acquired.”

Doll waved but didn’t speak.

“Doll never talks,” Lux whispered. “And, I know a few other girls who’d love some cookies.”

Her eyes sparkled as she waited for me to nod, then she darted out the door.

A
few
other girls in Lux terminology actually meant more than a dozen, and by the time I’d finished laundry, the room was packed with chattering girls snacking on the last of the cookies. They’d all introduced themselves and thanked me with the looks on their faces when they took a bite of chocolate.

I hoped that meant I’d at least have someone to watch my back if Kat went at it again.

When I folded the last of Miles’s clothes, the door burst open one final time.

“What the hell are y’all doing?” Kat asked.

“Having a nice afternoon, for once,” Tryst said, rolling her eyes. She was standing next to me folding clothes and nudged me with her elbow. “Any way you can turn this into a regular thing?”

“I’ll do my best.”

Kat scowled at me. The cookies certainly hadn’t won her over. I picked up the container—two cookies remained—and offered them to her, but she batted it out of my hand.

“Fuck off, Kat,” Gabby said. Unlike many of the other girls in the room, she had been one of the girls who’d joined with Kat to terrorize me. She hadn’t mentioned it, but dropping the whole issue was fine with me. “We all know that’s what you’re best at.”

* * *

I got ready in the bedroom while Miles sat in the living room with some strange man who’d showed a little after six. Strangely, he’d seemed as surprised to see me as I had been to see him.

Ross had sent down a package for me, making me dread the evening even more—black high heels, a sheer black robe, and a bunch of chains and clamps. I had a feeling I was to be the main course rather than an observer this time, and why not since Miles and I had stolen the show last time.

I’d never win.

With my hair and makeup finished, I stared into the mirror. Miles entered the room, coming up behind me to squeeze my shoulders, then he leaned over me for a kiss.

Maybe I might win a little bit
, I thought with a smile.

“Almost ready, Little Dove?” he asked.

I nodded toward the bed. He took my hand and led me to the bed, then he picked up the chains and took a seat in front of me. He drew my thick black robe open, and closed his mouth around my left nipple, sucking until I had to bite my lip to hold in my reaction. But what came next wasn’t quite as pleasurable. He placed the cold metal over my hardened nipple and tightened until my eyes watered. Then he repeated the process on the other nipple. The chain between the clamps hung down in a Y, connected to a third clamp. The worst clamp.

Miles pushed my legs apart slightly, then slid his fingers between my legs, rubbing my clit until I could feel the tension build. Then, he took the third clamp and tightened it on the tender and sensitive bundle of nerves.

“How fast do you think we can get this over with?” I asked, dropping my thick robe to replace it with the sheer one Ross had sent down. Then, I strapped the black heels to my feet and did a little spin for Miles. Every movement nudged or pulled at one of the clamps, but all I could do was push the sensation out of my head.

When we reached the Overlook, Ross immediately intercepted me, taking my hand and leading me to the table. “Lie face down along the center of the table,” he whispered into my ear. I lifted my knee to climb onto the table, but his hand on my shoulder stopped me.

“Oh, I forgot something,” he said. Then a piece of lacy black fabric came over my eyes. “There we go.”

Ross patted my ass and I felt my way onto and across the table. The nipple clamps and chains dug into my skin when I laid down. Then, a pair of hands positioned my arms straight down at my sides. I listened for movement, trying to anticipate what might come next, but nothing could have prepared me.

Something hot dripped between my shoulder blades and I gasped. “Now, now,” Ross said. “Our candle holder should really learn to be still. Something pressed into my skin in the same place where the hot wax had dropped. Another drip lower on my back, then more pressure. A third just above my tailbone. Then, Ross pressed a candle between my thighs.

All through dinner, I counted my breaths to take my mind off the hot wax dripping and puddling on my skin.

I felt the fourth candle lifted from between my legs and hoped it was over, only to be shocked out of my hopeful place as new drops of wax fell along the backs of my legs, all the way down to my ankles.

My concentration broke for an instant, but I reigned it back, continuing my count until the last plate was collected and all the candles were finally removed.

But that wouldn’t be the end of it.

“Roll over,” Ross ordered.

I rolled, and the once hot spots on my back and legs pressed against the glass of the table.

I felt a finger move across my stomach, slipping under the chain and pulling it up until it tugged painfully at my nipples and clit. More hands moved me, placing my palms up, and then a cool glass was set in each of my hands, followed by more glasses on the table up against the outside of my legs and one next to each shoulder.

“New guy,” Ross said. “What’s your name again?”

“Kirk.”

“Ah, new guy, perhaps you’d like to remove the left nipple clamp.”

The clamp jostled a bit and I tensed. I knew what was to follow would be simply excruciating.

“Now, Alley,” Ross spoke again. “Be sure not to spill our drinks. If you do, you’ll owe a blow job to anyone who so much as loses a drop.”

Fuck
. Even though the blindfold still obscured most of my vision, I closed my eyes and prepared. The first clamp loosened and in an instant, blood rushed back to my nipple.

I gritted my teeth and screamed, but didn’t move an inch. Another pair of hands immediately loosened the second nipple clamp. I couldn’t stop the tremor that swept through me, but I managed to contain it enough that I didn’t feel a drop of liquid on the table.

One final clamp, and I knew Ross would do the honors. Fingers probed between my legs. One twist to the clamp. Pause. Another twist. Pause. One final twist and the clamp was free. I pressed my hips into the table.

Do not move.

My eyes rolled back in my head for a second as I fought through the pain. Once again successful not to spill a drop. I’d overcome the challenge, but that hadn’t been Ross’s plan.

After everyone removed their drinks, he grabbed my ankle and pulled me to his end of the table until my ass sat on the very edge. He jerked off the blindfold and leaned over my face. “Impressive. No wonder Miles was so quick to snap you up.”

I didn’t respond, knowing it would only egg him on.

Ross lifted his glass to his lips, then paused, held out the red liquid and lowered it above my face. “Open up, Alley.”

I obeyed, and he poured the bitter liquid into my mouth. “Don’t miss a drop,” he hissed continuing to pour.

My mouth filled quickly and I had to choke down the liquid that just kept coming. Once his glass was empty, he reached for a wine bottle.

I wanted to shake my head. I wanted to look to Miles for help. But I didn’t dare take my eyes off of Ross or disobey him.

He tilted the bottle, pouring the stream once again straight into my mouth. I tried desperately to balance swallowing and breathing as the continuous stream of musty liquid fell against my tongue.

“Enough,” Miles said, shaking the table with his objection. “You know her body won’t be able to handle so much alcohol so fast.”

Ross growled and slammed the bottle against the table. “Remember your place.”

“I’ll never forget,” Miles growled back.

I was helplessly caught between two posturing men.

Ross leaned over me again. “I think your Master needs a drink.”

He filled my mouth with wine, then nodded toward Miles. I rolled to my hands and knees and crawled across the table. When I reached Miles, I placed my mouth over his, allowing the liquid to pass to him. He took it all, and licked a drip from my bottom lip, then pulled me into his lap where Ross couldn’t get to me again.

But Ross had already done his damage, and as the alcohol rushed my system, I fought to keep my eyes open.

The next thing I knew we were back in Miles apartment on the floor of his bathroom, while I puked so violently that I saw spots before my eyes. Miles pressed a cold rag to the back of my neck, but my anxiety rose with every wave of nausea.

Finally, I got a break and pressed my cheek against the cold tile wall.

“I need to run upstairs,” Miles said. “I’ll be just a few minutes.”

I couldn’t imagine what might be so important, but then, I was also too weak to argue.