Masters of the Shadowlands 8 - If only (30 page)

And then they started moving again. Driving her back up. Slower, this time. And as the haze of arousal filled her body, she heard Vance say under his breath, “I did rather like the pretty bows on the flogger.”

“It wasn’t your flogger, asshole,” Galen retorted. “Sally, sometime this week, I’m going to beat your ass with that flogger.” He rolled her nipples until she arched at the delightful pain. “And then I’m going to get you off—using it—as a reward for making me laugh.”

He did like to laugh; she knew it.

Her smile died as the two Doms used small caresses and pinches to drive her to the verge of orgasm. Her leg muscles were so tight they trembled as her arousal reached the edge of pain.

“Something you want to ask, sweetie?” Vance prompted.

Ask it. Dammit, ask it
. “Please,” she whispered.

“This time, you need to spell it out,” Vance said. “Sally, hearing you ask will make me feel good.”

Her words tried to stop up in her throat, but it helped to know that she’d please him—if only she could overcome her past. She stuttered out, “P-please, will you”—God, why did her body cringe?—“make me come?”

“Good, good girl,” Galen murmured, and the sweetness of his deep voice washed over her like a blessing.

“Beautifully asked,” Vance agreed. “I’m proud of you, Sally.”

Galen caressed her breasts gently before his clever fingers closed on her tender nipples. Squeezing and releasing in burst after burst of exquisite pain.

Vance thrust, pulled out, pressed in. Each time, his thumb circled her clit, pushing her up, up. He rubbed his fingers just inside her entrance, reawakening the G-spot with a vengeance.

God
. Her whole body went rigid as she shook, needing just another little bit.
Please.

Vance’s gaze met hers, holding hers as he deliberately set his thumb on her clit and pressed down. Wiggled.

The spark set off a conflagration. Her body lit, burst into flame, and exploded. Wave after wave of pleasure whipped through her. Her neck arched as she screamed and swore and screamed.

After a wonderfully long time, she felt the waves die back. God, that felt good.

Then she heard Vance mutter, “Let’s try for seconds.” His fingers pushed in—three fingers—stretching her as his finger rubbed right on her clit. And like a giant storm surge, another orgasm hit, flattening everything before it.

Her own wails seemed to echo in her ears as she panted and quivered with aftershocks.

“Pretty girl,” Galen said. His hands were gentle on her breasts, circling and caressing her abused nipples. Vance was stroking her thighs.

After a minute, when she could actually breathe, Vance gathered her up into his arms. “You did well, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I thought I’d have to tease you for another half hour before you asked for help.”

The Dom had his own sadistic nature, cleverly concealed beneath a caring manner. She pinched him.

His answer was to silently slide his big hand between her legs again. To press against her oversensitive pussy. His smoldering gaze said he’d be perfectly happy starting the whole routine over again if that was what she wanted.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

The sun lines beside his eyes deepened with his smile.

Oh God, she really did love him.

Chapter Thirteen

In his office, Assistant District Attorney Drew Somerfeld sat behind his desk as he discussed a case with his newest intern.

All was well in the great metropolis of Manhattan. Crime continued. Law enforcement put the criminals behind bars. The Harvest Association was on hiatus, but he had a few million in bank accounts overseas. Another few million and he’d be ready to retire. He’d take Ellis with him, buy an island, and live like a lord.

“Thank you, Kathleen,” he said. “I think that covers it.”

She was a bright young woman. Quite efficient. Somerfeld started to stand before noticing the intern was fidgeting rather than exiting his office. “Something else?”

“I remember how angry you were about Lieutenant Tillman’s death.”

“I still am,” Somerfeld said in a tight voice. Mostly angry the bastard had gotten his claws into the Association. A shame the lesson hadn’t taken hold with the other members of the investigation team.

“You’ll be pleased to hear one of the so-called managers was arrested. He’s singing like the proverbial canary.”

Somerfeld froze for a second, then closed the folder on his desk as he forced a smile. “A manager? That’s excellent work. How did it come about?” Yes, he needed to know. His managers were to have shut down all communications.

“It’s that informant.” Kathleen’s smile was wide.

He wanted to slap her mouth hard enough to rip her lips away from her gopher-like teeth. “Go on.”

“The informant sent the captain e-mail addresses and files for three managers. One was arrested. The tech department is working to get locations on the other two.”

Son of a bitch
. “Have we managed to identify the informant?”

“No. The computer experts say the man is bouncing his provider address through several places. Careful guy.”

“Just as well,” Somerfeld forced out. “The Association wouldn’t take such a betrayal lightly.” Wasn’t that the truth? But before dealing with the informant, he’d have to shut that manager up. Yes, that caged canary was going to have his beak roasted right off.

Somerfeld smiled pleasantly at Kathleen. “I appreciate you sharing the good news.”

Good to have a cure for Ellis’s growing restlessness. Burning the manager—and the marshals and safe house—would calm him right down.

Pity his twin’s slave would have to be sacrificed to get them into the house, because, right now, procuring a slut to replace her wouldn’t be easy. But Ellis expected to be
reimbursed
, so to speak. Actually, the way things were going, maybe he’d order an extra. Be nice to have a spare.

Once the manager was ash, Drew could turn his attention to finding the informant. For that bastard, he’d push his brother aside and light the first match.

* * * *

Time does fly when you’re having fun
. In the second guest bathroom, Sally worked off her lousy Monday at the police station as she sponged grout from the blue-gray stone tile floor. A bucket of water sat beside her.

She grinned, realizing she was cleaning a floor on hands and knees. Sheesh, tales of Cinderella…

But Cinderella hadn’t been the one to tile the floor, had she? Smiling, she swiped off another tile. Now she knew why the men liked doing their own construction. There was a simple pleasure in creating something both useful and beautiful.

Sally sat back and surveyed her work. Well centered. Around the walls, the partial tiles were all the same size. No tipped-up corners. Damn, she was good. Of course, she’d had a lot of practice over the weekend while the Feds were gone.

In between visits from her friends—and thank God for the Shadowkittens—the house had felt far too quiet, and she’d been lonely. And bored.

No Vance to cook with—or Galen to clean up. No discussions or arguments at meals.

Kari had come over one evening but had to return home early to put Zane to bed. She’d been her usual sweet, fun self—Sally frowned—except for the time Dan’s name was mentioned and she’d looked…unhappy. But then she’d changed the subject.

But in the late evenings, Sally had been lonely, missing her guys.

Vance liked sports and movies, although he refused chick flicks or animations like
Mulan
. A typical guy, he preferred shoot-’em-ups like
Die Hard
. But after she forced him to watch
Alien
, he’d been converted to science-fiction films.
He can be taught.

And how weird was it that Galen was a World of Warcraft addict? Even worse, his shaman was still kicking her ass online. But, as if to apologize, he’d taught her how to paddle his ancient wooden canoe.

She sighed. Kisses and canoeing on the lake in the moonlight.

But all that togetherness meant she really missed them. Although Glock had joined her in her giant bed, the sweet fur baby didn’t compare to the men.

Thank God they were back…although they’d kept her up most of the night. Seemed like maybe they’d missed her too.

“Well, look at that. You got her doing manual labor.” The rough voice made her jump, and she spun around.

Master Nolan stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He was so big he seemed to fill the doorway. With the scar down his darkly tanned face making him look cruel, he’d always made her a bit nervous, but his wife insisted he was actually sweet.

Beth must be delusional. Seriously.

“How are you, Sir?” Sally asked politely. She’d decided, in honor of her Doms’ homecoming, she’d be super-supersweet and the best submissive in the world.

She could do it, right? At least for today?

“Before we left for New York, she helped me tile the laundry room,” Galen said from behind Nolan. “She finished while we were gone and started this room by herself. She’s even better at it than I am.” The pride in Galen’s face made her eyes burn.

“That’s fine work, Sally,” Nolan said. “If you don’t find a computer job, you can work for me.”

The contractor never bothered with politenesses, so if he said she’d done well, she had. She couldn’t keep her smile back. “Thank you, Sir.”

“If you’re at a good place to stop, Beth is downstairs,” Galen said. “I’m sure she’d like some company.”

“Yes, Sir!” G and V had asked Nolan over to advise them on tearing out a wall in a downstairs bedroom. She hadn’t realized Beth would come too. “I’ll go right down.”

Washing the gunk off her hands, Sally made a face at herself in the mirror. Company and just look at her. Her denim shorts were spattered with grout, her faded T-shirt had the sleeves ripped off, and she’d yanked her hair back into a ponytail to keep it out of her way.

Once downstairs, Sally set up a tray with a pitcher of iced tea, glasses, small plates, and a bowl of snack mix, and carried it with her as she searched for her guest.

In the game room, the cat sat on the fireplace mantel, imitating a statue of Bast, the feline God. Glock asserted that—no matter what humans believed—Bast was in charge of the universe. “Hey, Glock,” Sally said. “How goes it?”

Glock gave her a tail flick indicating he found the world satisfactory at the moment.

When Galen had overheard her having a theological discussion with a house cat, he’d laughed himself stupid.
Frigging Fed.

No one but Glock was in the game room, so Sally moved on. The office was empty. She finally found Vance and Beth in the great room.

Sally felt better, seeing that Beth was still in working clothes—cutoff overalls and a white tank top, red hair pulled back in a ponytail.

“There she is,” Vance said as Sally entered the great room. “If you’ll entertain the lady, sweetheart, I’ll go talk with Nolan about manly subjects.” He pulled Sally close enough to kiss the top of her head before making his escape.

“Hey, Beth.” Sally set the tray down on the coffee table and winced at the clutter of combs and brushes, nail polish, and cotton balls. Early last night, while waiting for her men to get home, she’d needed to feel girlie and had played with new hairstyles and given herself a manicure and pedicure.

She should have a sign on her—hopeless at housekeeping. “Sorry about the mess.”

“Like I care?” Beth gave her a quick hug and dropped down on the sectional. “But I’d love some of that iced tea. My project is in full sun.”

“Where are you working?” Sally asked, pouring them both drinks and nudging the bowl within reach.

“Seminole Heights. A couple from Boston are having an old Victorian remodeled, and they want the grounds landscaped.” After drinking half a glass of tea, Beth gave a pleased sigh. “How’s job hunting?”

“Well.” Sally frowned. “I’ve had offers and interest from a few places up north, but nothing down here. And I’d like to stay in Tampa.” Because her friends were here. The Shadowlands was here.

The Feds were here. Odd how quickly she’d changed her mind about leaving town.

Beth patted her hand. “You’ll find something that’s perfect for you. Just be patient.”

“Patient isn’t exactly a word in my vocabulary,” Sally grumbled.

“So very, very true.”

Sally threw a pretzel at her for the insult. “At least only working part-time with no school lets me pretend to be a carpenter, and see you guys, and, even better, to play with Zane.”

“Zane is such a darling.” A shadow crossed Beth’s face. “Kari is so lucky to have him.”

What was that about? Beth and Nolan had been together about two years and had married last year. “Are you planning to follow Dan and Kari down the baby trail?”

When Beth flinched and averted her gaze, Sally wanted to hit herself on the forehead.
Bad question, stupid
. “Want to watch TV…or make some dinner?”
Or do anything to get that unhappy look off your face?

“I—” Beth bit her lip. “It’s okay, Sal. It’s just that I can’t have children. The damage from my previous marriage was too much.”

Her husband had been a sick, abusive bastard, and Beth had scars all over her body. But she had internal damage too? “Christ in a swamp, it’s not fair that the creep left you even more—” Unable to think of the right word, Sally sat and put her arm around the slender woman, needing to comfort at the same time she wanted to kill Beth’s ex.

But Nolan had already taken care of that little task.

Beth leaned against Sally’s shoulder. “I don’t mind as much for me, but Nolan…” A tear slid down her sunburned cheek. “He said he’d like children, and I can’t. I feel so
guilty
.”

“But…” Sally opened her mouth, searching for the right words, needing just the ones, but nothing came. “You shouldn’t. It’s not right—”

“What’s not right is not telling me what the fuck has been bothering you.” Nolan stalked into the room. His eyes were black ice, and his mouth twisted into a threatening line.

For a moment all Sally could do was cringe. But then she jumped up to stand in front of Beth. Maybe she could hold him off until her Feds got there. “Don’t touch her.”