Michaels, Skye - Mikaela's Debut [The Black Dahlia Hotel 1] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) (3 page)

* * * *

In the conference room at The Black Dahlia Hotel, Fort Lauderdale Beach, Florida, Wednesday early afternoon, December 23, 2015

Jamie Devereau didn’t like the looks of this situation. Certainly it was a big problem for his friends, Dillon and Mikaela, but it could also bleed over to the hotel. He picked up his iPhone and dialed Morgan Court’s cell phone. “Court? Devereau here. Can I ask you for a big favor?” Jamie never beat around the bush.

“Anything, buddy. What’s up?”

Jamie explained about the mysterious text. “These are good people. Mikaela doesn’t remember the occasion or the guy. He isn’t an old friend or boyfriend. That makes me think date rape drugs.”

“Yeah. An ugly situation. Let me get my cyber people on it. Forward me the text.”

“How’s business? And how is Harper?” Morgan Court was a reclusive multimillionaire businessman and member of Le Club Eastside–Manhattan, where he had met the Domme-turned-sub and sexy attorney Harper Cameron.

“Harper is great. She’s pregnant and a little grouchy, what with the morning sickness and all. Business is good. We have another new diabetes drug about to go into testing. We think it’s going to be even bigger than Maxprotem. How’s Anne? Any little ones on the horizon for you?”

“You know my views on that. I’m leaving the populating of the planet to my big brother, Justin. He and Kelly will keep the Devereau name viable.”

“I know what you mean. I wasn’t in a hurry, but Harper thought she had a ticking clock. But once she said, ‘We’re having a baby,’ I lost my mind. It’s the greatest feeling in the world. Anyway, I’ll have my people see what they can find out about that text.”

“Thanks, Morgan. My best to Harper and the bun in the oven.”

In the dungeon at The Black Dahlia Hotel, Fort Lauderdale Beach, Florida, Wednesday evening, December 23, 2015

The costume party to celebrate the opening of the new Black Dahlia dungeon was in full swing. Guests were dressed in everything from formal wear and club wear to role-playing costumes from the hotel’s costume department. Waiters circulated with constantly refilled trays of drinks and hors d’oeuvres. Jack and Kaylin had decided that instead of bachelor and bachelorette parties they would have a fancy dress party for their collaring ceremony the night before the wedding. It would also serve to celebrate the opening of the new dungeon. The official opening of the hotel was scheduled for after their Christmas Eve wedding.

Jack leaned down and whispered in Kaylin’s ear. “Hey, baby. You look fantastic.” She was wearing a formfitting, long, red vintage lace dress, and her thick, dark hair was swept up on top of her head.

“No. That would be you. You know how I get when I see you in a tux and those black alligator cowboy boots. That is definitely taking unfair advantage.” Her bright blue eyes sparkled with laughter and lust. God, he loved this woman.

“You’ll get your chance to admire your Master after our collaring ceremony when we open the dungeon for scenes.”

“I can’t wait, baby. I think we should circulate.” He took her arm and steered her toward Dillon and Mikaela.

“How are you guys doing? I know Jamie called Morgan Court and he’s got his people looking into that text.”

Dillon smiled down on Mikaela and hugged her tight to his side. “We’re okay. Mikki’s a little spooked, but we’ll get through it.”

“Jack told me what happened, Mikaela,” Kaylin said. “I’m so sorry you have to deal with this. If there’s anything I can do, please let me know. If you want to make a formal report or file a complaint while we’re away you can contact Chloe at BSO.”

“I’m wracking my brain to try to remember when that video could have been taken. I have absolutely no memory of that place or any of it. I think that’s the scariest part—that and the possibility that something I did could be used to damage Dillon’s campaign.”

“I told you, Mikaela. Do not worry about that. We’ll figure it out—with a little help from our friends, as the song goes. I don’t want you to worry about the campaign.”

“Well, according to Jamie, Morgan Court’s organization is top notch, and if anyone can get a handle on it, he can.” Jack smiled. “He told Jamie he and Harper are pregnant.”

Kaylin turned to Jack. “Oh, do you know him? Is he one of your Harvard posse, too?”

“We’ve met several times through Jamie. No, I think he’s an MIT guy, but I don’t hold that against him.”

“Very funny. Everyone can’t go to Harvard.”

“So sad, but so true.” Kaylin punched him in the arm.

“Just wait, subbie. Your time on the St. Andrew’s cross is coming.” She giggled and he pulled her into his arms for a kiss. “I love it when you giggle.”

“I don’t giggle. I’m a tough homicide cop.”

“Right.”

* * * *

Mikaela smiled. Jack and Kaylin were just so right together. Happiness dripped off the both of them. She would have said the same for Dillon and herself a day ago. Now, with this blackmail threat hanging over her head, she wasn’t feeling at all optimistic. She enjoyed Dillon’s parents in small doses, and she knew they liked her. But how would his dad feel if she was damaging Dillon’s election chances? Joe Cavanaugh was ambitious in the extreme for his kids. Dillon wasn’t exaggerating when he said Joe saw himself as the next Joe Kennedy. Regardless of what Dillon said, that would put a lot of stress on their relationship.

“Stop. Now. I don’t like the thoughts that are going through your head.”

“You can’t possibly know what thoughts are going through my head.”

“Mikaela, your head might as well be made of glass. I can see every thought on your face. It will be okay. No matter what happens, it will be okay.”

“Dillon, I can’t help worrying—more for you than myself.”

“I know, baby. That is one of the many reasons I love you. But I want you to try and relax and let’s enjoy our vacation. We’ll see what the Court people come up with. Jamie said they are going to want to do a phone interview with you tomorrow to get some background information.”

“I’ll be happy to talk to them. I’ll do anything to move this investigation along. I can’t imagine who could have done this, or why.”

“Obviously, it’s someone who wants a piece of your fortune and possibly to hurt you. Sometimes extreme wealth is a blessing and sometimes it’s a curse. Just look at my father. If he had to worry about making a living, he wouldn’t have so much time to interfere in Devin’s and my life. I’d like to see Devin run for president. Then Dad would be so busy with that he might get off my back.”

“Ah, one can only dream.” But it was true. Joe Cavanaugh needed another hobby. She really didn’t know how Mary Cavanaugh put up with him.

* * * *

Dillon and Mikaela joined the other guests gathered around the flower-bedecked arbor in the center of the dungeon. Kaylin’s bridal attendants, Chloe Carlton, Gabriella Dellaveccia, and Nicollette Sommers, and their Doms were there as well as Jamie Devereau and his wife, Anne Sutton. The spotlights on the intimidating pieces of BDSM equipment had been turned out and the corners of the room were dark. Only the arbor was lit. Kaylin waited for Jack in the center of the arbor. She was barefoot and kneeling in the slave position. She had sheepskin-lined leather cuffs on her wrists and ankles that had been embroidered with heavy gold thread in an intricate floral design. They were obviously custom-made for this ceremony. Dillon saw Mikaela smile a real smile for the first time that night. She turned to him. “I don’t know how she got into that position in that long, tight dress. She’s going to need help getting up.”

“I’m sure Jack won’t leave her stranded down there.”

“They are great together. I hope they will always be this happy.”

“Life has a way of interfering, but it does go on. People just have to hang on until the wheel turns their way again. That’s what we’re going to do, baby. We are going to hang on. Everything will be fine.”

“I hope so.”

Jack Dalton Brown walked up to the arbor and stepped inside. He knelt down in front of Kaylin and softly whispered some words that the gathered group could not hear and she responded with what was apparently a “Yes, Master.” Dillon could see the small, glistening tears track down her face before she turned her shining eyes up to Jack and smiled. Then she bowed her head, and he clasped a soft leather collar encrusted with sparkling crystals and amethyst jewels around her neck. It was attached to a similarly decorated leash.

Jack stood, put his hand down to Kaylin, and helped her to stand beside him. Dillon glanced at his watch. It was midnight. Jack turned to the crowd. “The Black Dahlia Hotel dungeon is now open for scenes.” All at once the spots over each of the stations came on and the equipment was bathed in bright light. The crowd burst into spontaneous applause. Jack led Kaylin by her jeweled leash to the center St. Andrew’s cross, helped her out of the tight dress until she was standing in only a beautiful red lace bra and matching red lace thong. He fastened her to the cross, and the guests began to migrate to the other now well-lit pieces of equipment. Jack had told him that the adjustable hydraulic steps on the St. Andrew’s crosses had originally been designed by Jamie Devereau for use on the
Golden Dolphin
. The steps could be adjusted for comfort no matter how tall the Dom or how short the sub. Clearly, Jack wished he’d known about that innovation when he’d been designing the dungeon at The Black Iris Club, his private club in the penthouse of the JDB Building.

Dillon led Mikaela to a smaller cross in the corner of the dungeon. It was out of the way and a little more sheltered from public view. Normally he would have no compunction about taking a center-stage position, but Mikaela’s emotions were fragile right now, and he wanted to shield and protect her. He deepened his voice and said, “Strip, sub.” He knew she loved that Dom tone of voice. There was no quicker way to dampen her panties. He laughed—if she’d been wearing any.

While she hastened to comply, he untied his bow tie, stripped off his tuxedo jacket, unbuttoned his shirt, and rolled his sleeves up his muscular forearms. Mikaela dropped her short, black dress to the floor. She was naked. He’d known she hadn’t worn a bra or thong. The high, black fuck-me pumps enhanced the shape of her already fantastic butt and legs. He stood back to enjoy the view before he ordered, “Put on your cuffs and mount the cross.” When she was ready he fastened her wrist and ankle cuffs and checked them for fit. He adjusted the hydraulic step of the cross to a comfortable height. “I think you need a punishment tonight, sub. You have doubted your Master all day.”

“Yes, Master.” He always waited for her assent before beginning any impact play. He took the wicked little short-handled quirt from his toy bag. It was made of braided calfskin and was an intimidating short whip that easily fit in the bag. Just the sight of it was guaranteed to up her anxiety level. Mikaela loved the sharp viper’s bite of the quirt, but he used it with caution as it could do some real damage to her skin. He stepped up close behind her so that she would feel the heat of his body along her back and thighs. “I’m going to redden this beautiful ass of yours, Mikaela. What do you say to that?”

“Yes please, Master. I know I disappointed you today.”

“Now you really have earned a punishment. You did not disappoint me. You could never disappoint me.” Dillon ran his hands down her back and over her butt. He massaged her tight shoulder muscles before he gave each cheek of her nicely rounded ass a sharply cracking slap with his open palm. He stepped into position and lightly ran the business end of the quirt over her silky skin. “Listen to your Master, sub. This ass belongs to me. It’s mine to discipline as I see fit.” He dipped his hand down between her spread thighs and tested her pussy, which was slick with anticipation. “You have earned a correction because you doubted my commitment to you and our relationship. We will work this problem out together.”

“Yes, Master. I’m sorry.”

“You may not be sorry now, but you will be shortly.” He brought the quirt down on her butt twice, and two red lines appeared across her white ass. When Mikaela gasped at the red-hot pain, he checked to be sure he hadn’t broken the skin. Then he turned his attention to her ass again. The strikes were meant to be hot and painful without permanently marking the skin. He striped her bottom twice more before dropping the quirt and switching to a silicone paddle with a dildo handle. It gave a sharp stinging impact without leaving welts on the skin. Soon her whole ass was cherry red. When he stopped she pushed her ass out in invitation for him to continue. He wondered if she was just enjoying the sensations, or if she was genuinely feeling guilty about something. “Do you have something you want to confess to your Master, sub?”

“No, Master.”

He flipped the paddle around in his hand and began to tease her pouting pussy with the silicone dildo handle. She tried to back up into the instrument, but he wouldn’t allow it. He administered another sharp slap on her already reddened ass. “That’s topping from the bottom, sub. Don’t make me tell you again. Hold your position. As always, you may not come until I give my permission, or you won’t be sitting down tomorrow.” He continued to play with her quivering pussy, stroking in and out with the dildo as she moaned her enjoyment, which was now tempered with a note of desperation.