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Authors: Julia Sykes

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BOOK: Rogue
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When he laid it out logically like that, my anger seemed unwarranted.  It was a useless,
exhausting emotion.  It was a burden, and I was so damn tired of carrying it.

So why was I allowing it to rule me?  My gaze slid away from his.  His fingers gripped
my chin almost roughly, forcing my face back up to his.

“Look at me,” he growled.  “Tell me you regret it.  Tell me you’d be happier without
what we have together.”

“I don’t regret it, Derek,” I heard myself whisper.  I couldn’t lie while he pinned
me with that fiery stare.  “But can you honestly tell me that you wanted me to find
my inner Domme?”

“That’s irrelevant.  You don’t have an inner Domme.  You’re a sub, through and through. 
You needed me to show that to you.”

The hint of yearning in his voice said the words he couldn’t speak. 
You need me.

He wanted so badly for me to need him, because he needed me.  And that scared him. 
It was written in every taut line of his handsome face.  I scared him every bit as
much as he scared me.  That knowledge calmed the anger that lingered inside me, cooling
my burning emotions.  The relief I felt at their dissipation was almost shocking in
its intensity.

“Why do you need to dominate me, Derek?”  I asked softly.

His fingers sank into my curls, gripping them possessively.  “Because you’re sassy
and sweet and submissive.  Because you react to me more honestly than any woman ever
has.  Because you’re fucking perfect, Sharon.”

He leaned down to me, holding me in place with his fist in my hair.  He didn’t stop
until his lips were so close to mine that I could feel his hot breath playing over
my mouth.  Pine and soap and man surrounded me, and I breathed him in.

“Derek, I…”  My mouth went dry.  Some part of me knew I should protest, but I couldn’t
remember why.

“Let me in, Sharon.  Let me touch you.  It could be so fucking good between us.”

I wanted him to touch me.  God, I wanted that.  I wanted it with all my heart.  My
gut told me I could trust him.

But I can’t trust myself.

“Please don’t,” I begged.  I wanted him so badly, but I would break completely if
I allowed his lips to touch mine.

His fingers tightened in my hair.  “Don’t push me away, Sharon.  Not again.  Do you
know what you do to me?  My cock’s been hard since the second you walked into my club. 
And nothing I do is enough to sate me.  I need to drive into your tight, wet pussy
and fuck you senseless.  Let me in.”

He was talking about more than just my body.  He wanted in to my mind.  He wanted
in to my heart.

I couldn’t give him that.  Not if I was going to make it through this mission with
any sort of dignity intact.

“Please, Derek.  I don’t want to have to use a safe word.”

“Then don’t,” he ground out.  “You want me.  You want this.  Stop fighting me.”

He was right.  I did want him.  More fiercely than I had ever wanted any man.  He
was tempting as sin.  But not tempting enough to convince me to sacrifice my career. 
I wouldn’t give up everything I had fought for, everything I was, for a man’s touch. 
A few hours of bliss weren’t worth a lifetime of shame.

“I’m not ready, Derek,” I hedged.  I hated myself for keeping him dangling on.  If
I had any sense of decency, I would break things off.  But I needed to stay close
to him, even if I couldn’t allow myself to get as close as both of us so desperately
wanted.  “I’m sorry.”  I was apologizing for so much more than just turning him down.

I’m sorry for lying to you.  I’m sorry that I’ll be the one to bring your world crumbling
down.

He released my hair and drew away from me slowly.  My heart twisted at the sight of
his closed, remote expression.  It hid the hurt I had just inflicted.

“I’m sorry,” I said again.  The two little words were laughably insufficient to express
the depth of my regret.

Chapter 10

 

 

 

“Clayton tells me you’re trying to convince him to press for contact with Santiago. 
You have nothing new on Reyes and Ortiz, and you don’t have anything concrete on Derek
Carter.”  Kennedy’s frown conveyed his disappointment in my performance.

I hated that frown.

“Carter is being coerced,” I asserted quickly.

“Oh?  And what evidence do you have to support that?”  My boss’ cool expression was
more than a little skeptical.

I could feel Reed’s uncertainty in response to my foolish words.  I had fuck all to
back that up, and he knew it.  If I wasn’t careful, I would prove to Kennedy just
how far I had fallen under Derek’s influence.

There’s more to it than that.

Yes, I wanted to believe in his innocence, but I had more to go on than lust for the
man.

“He doesn’t feel in control of his own club.  It’s killing him.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“No,” I admitted.  “But I’ve spent enough time around him that I can read him.  He
hates working with Ortiz and Reyes.”

Kennedy peered at me over steepled fingers.  “Men can work with people they dislike. 
Especially if there’s a big payoff as an incentive.”

“The Kings do seem to hold some sort of power over him,” Reed cut in.  I had to stop
myself from gaping at him.  I hadn’t expected him to come to Derek’s defense.  “Carter
talked about a staff meeting last night, and he obviously wasn’t pleased about it. 
When he spent too long talking to Sharon, Ortiz called the shots on getting him back
to his office.”

“So maybe Ortiz ranks higher than him in the tribe,” Kennedy equivocated.

I opened my mouth to snap at him for being willfully contrary, but he held up a hand,
effectively cutting me off.

“I’m not saying you’re wrong, Silverman.  I’m just saying that’s not enough evidence
to exonerate Carter.  I think it’s time for us to move in.  You have visual confirmation
of Ortiz dealing at the bar.  We can arrest him and Carter for knowingly allowing
it to happen on his premises.  Once we have them in interrogation, maybe the truth
will come out.”

“We suspect Carter has ties to the Westies,” Reed remarked.

I stifled my gasp, but not my glare.  The traitorous bastard!  He had said he wouldn’t
reveal that to Kennedy.  Was he trying to make me look bad?  Was he trying to get
Derek locked up?

Reed ignored my anger.  “There’s more to this than just casual dealing.  We thought
the Irish Mob was wiped out.  What if the remaining members are allying with the Kings? 
We could be looking at a whole new scenario.”

Our boss studied him with his most cutting green gaze.  Reed didn’t so much as flinch. 
After a moment, Kennedy nodded.

“I’ll give you the weekend,” he allowed.  “Report back to me on Sunday.”

Reed nodded, and we turned to leave Kennedy’s office.

“And Miller,” he called after us.  “Try not to get killed.”

When I glanced back at him, I found his lips curled in amusement.

“I can handle Carter,” Reed assured our boss.

“It’s not Carter I’m worried about.  Silverman looks like she’s ready to take your
head off.”

It took all my effort to stop myself from stalking off like an angry teenager.  As
soon as we were out of sight of Kennedy’s office, I gripped Reed by the elbow and
steered him to the elevator.

“Sharon.”  He said my name sternly as the silver doors slid closed behind us.  “Calm
down.”

I slammed the emergency stop button, and the elevator jolted to a halt.

“Calm down?”  I almost shouted.  “What the fuck was that, Miller?  We had an agreement. 
Now Derek’s going to end up in jail.  Is that what you want?  I thought you believed
he’s a good man.”

“No,” Reed corrected me with infuriating calm.  “I believe he’s a good Dom.  That
doesn’t make him a good man.  But,” he forestalled me before I could rip him a new
one, “I also suspect he’s being coerced.  You heard Kennedy.  He was going to end
the op.  Then Derek definitely would have ended up doing time.  Think for a second,
Sharon.  This gives us time.”

A shrill ringing filled the small space as the elevator protested its forced stillness. 
Reed grasped my wrist and firmly pulled my hand from the stop button.  We resumed
our descent to the parking garage.

“Where are we going?”  I demanded, my residual anger still burning hot in my veins.

“I’m taking you to lunch.  You need to eat, and we need to come up with a plan.  We’re
going to break into Carter’s office tonight.”

 

 

I growled in annoyance as I twisted my arms behind my back, blindly searching for
the corset’s laces. 

The outfit I had selected for tonight – a burgundy velvet corset and a flirty black
tutu skirt paired with fishnet stockings – was much more beautiful than the drab clothes
Derek had become accustomed to.  In the last week, I had worn a tank top and yoga
pants at Derek’s request.  He claimed it allowed for greater range of movement, but
now I suspected he didn’t like seeing me dressed up like a Dominatrix.

Tonight’s outfit was meant to be an enticing distraction, an effort to seduce him
into dropping his guard, but I thrilled at the thought of him seeing me in the corset.

If I could ever get the damn thing on.

“Need some help with that, hon?”

I heaved a sigh of relief at the sound of Clara’s voice behind me.

“Yes, please.”

I was a touch surprised to see Clara at Decadence after her argument with Derek only
the night before, but then again, the woman didn’t seem to be one to scare easily. 
And she had her own agenda here.  It was becoming obvious that Reed and I weren’t
the only ones who were investigating Carter.  Clara claimed to be his friend, but
she had dropped enough hints about not trusting him that it was clear she knew something
was up.

We seemed to realize at the same time that we were sizing one another up, and Clara
gave me a rueful smile.

“I won’t ask if you don’t.”

She wanted to keep her reasons for keeping an eye on Derek to herself.  And I certainly
didn’t want to tell her I was FBI.  I might like Clara, but that didn’t mean I trusted
her.  I hardly even trusted myself these days, much less anyone else.

I returned her smile.  “Deal.  Now, can you help me get into this damn thing?”

Clara’s laugh was high and tinkling.  It was a sweet, pleasant sound that was at odds
with her coolly controlled Domme persona.  I thought about what she had told me about
her husband, and again I wondered how she had managed to turn off her submissive side.

“Do you ever miss it?”  I asked abruptly.  “Submitting?”

“Not really.”

It was a lie, but her aggressive tug on my corset laces warned me not to pry.  I kept
my silence after that.  I wasn’t sure if I could have drawn enough air to talk anyway. 
Clara knew what she was doing.  She worked quickly and almost ruthlessly.  By the
time she finished, my waist was several inches smaller than usual, and my breasts
threatened to spill over.

“Isn’t this too tight?”  I asked on a shallow breath.

“You’ll adjust to it,” Clara told me with only a hint of empathy.  “I can tighten
it again in about twenty minutes if you want.”

“No!”  I said quickly.  “I’m good, thanks.”

She laughed again, that genuine laugh that was so much lighter than her darkly mysterious
Dominant side.

“Okay.  I’ll spare you this time.”  Her hand slapped my ass lightly, and I gave a
little surprised squeak.  “Go get him, hon.”

“Thanks.”  I turned to her with a warm smile.  “Do me another favor?  Don’t tell Derek
I left the locker room.”

She gave me a conspiratorial wink.  “You got it.  You’re taking a while to do your
makeup.”

I grinned and gave her a grateful nod before turning away.  I wasn’t sure what her
agenda was, but I had a feeling I had an ally.  It bolstered my confidence as I stepped
out of the locker room to stride down the long corridor that led to the private play
rooms.

My heart beat a little faster with each step.  Around the corner at the end of the
hall was the entrance to Derek’s office.  There would be just enough privacy in the
alcove by the door to pick the lock, if I had to.

I hoped it didn’t come to that.  I needed to get in and out as quickly as possible. 
Reed could only distract Derek with questions about the BDSM scene in New York for
so long before he came looking for me.  I had managed to slip past him with an excuse
about getting changed, but he would realize I was taking longer than I ought to to
slip into my corset.

Thank god Clara worked so quickly.

The door to Derek’s office was closed.  I tried the knob, but it didn’t turn.  Locked.

Shit.

My fingers delved into my cleavage, searching for the pins I had tucked into the inner
lining of the corset.  I cursed Clara for doing her job so well.  I was cinched in
so tight that I could barely draw breath, much less fit my hand down the front of
the corset.

I worked two fingers inside, and my fingernails found the upper edge of the pins. 
A fine sheen of sweat had broken out on my brow by the time I pulled them free, and
I wasn’t sure if it was a result of my efforts or my nerves.  Adrenaline hummed through
me as I quickly picked the lock and ducked inside.  The knowledge that Derek might
catch me at any moment was terrifying and perversely thrilling.

The door closed softly behind me, but the dull click of the lock seemed loud enough
to echo through the long hall and drift out into the bar.

I turned to assess the space for the best place to plant the bug, and I froze.  In
the space of a few heartbeats, I took in the wall of kinky implements that lined one
side of the office.  Crops, canes, and whips hung at various points in a decidedly
artful arrangement.  Derek had fashioned his office into his very own kinky haven. 
There was even a spanking bench beside the desk and chains dangling from the ceiling.

A moment of irrational sullenness struck me as I wondered why he had never brought
me back here instead of using the private club rooms.  But that was stupid.  I already
knew the answer, even though I was reluctant to admit it to myself.  Derek used this
office for more than just sex.  He had met with members of the Latin Kings here. 
This was where they discussed their business.

I had wasted enough precious time gaping at the contents of Derek’s office.  I had
a job to do.

Thank god I had tucked the bug into the top of my fishnet stockings instead of stuffing
it down my ridiculously tight corset.  In less than a minute, I had it secured under
the desk and activated.

“Okay.  It’s done.”  My voice was only just above a whisper, but the guys at the unit
should be able to hear.  The words picked up by the bug would be transmitted there,
creating a permanent record of everything that was said in this office.

Reed had no means of hearing or answering me, so I hoped to hell he was still distracting
Derek.

My task complete, I padded quickly across the room in my soft-soled black flats. 
I checked to make sure the door was set to lock automatically behind me and then slipped
back out into the alcove.

My breaths were fast and shallow.  I wished I could draw in more air, but the damn
corset restricted me.  Closing my eyes, I leaned back against the wall to gather my
calm before I went looking for Derek.

“What are you doing?”

All the blood drained from my face at the forbidding note in Derek’s deep voice. 
My eyes snapped open to find him advancing on me, and I took an automatic step back. 
Only, I had nowhere to go.  My back was already pressed against the wall.

“I was looking for you.”  I tried to make my eyes wide and innocent, but I swallowed
against the sudden dryness in my throat.  The full force of Derek’s displeasure bore
down upon me, magnifying with his every step.  It was almost stifling by the time
he stepped into my personal space.

His large body loomed before me, boxing me in.  A little thrill of fear accompanied
my arousal at his nearness.

“You knew I was at the bar.  I told you to meet me there.  What are you doing back
here?”

“Clara said you might be back here.”  I winced as I threw the Domme under the bus. 
Hopefully she would back my story if Derek asked her about it.  Hopefully she truly
was my ally.

Derek’s frown intensified.  “You’re lying.  I can always tell when you’re lying, Sharon. 
You know how I feel about that.  I don’t tolerate dishonesty.”

“I…”  I racked my brain for some sensible excuse.  “I didn’t want to come out to the
bar in this outfit.”

There.  That was true enough.  I had been dreading stepping out in front of everyone
while wearing so little.  I had dressed scantily as a Dominatrix, but this softer
look made me more vulnerable.

His hands pressed against the wall on either side of my head, surrounding me in his
heat.  Slowly, he leaned into me, not stopping until his lips were less than an inch
from mine.  His gold eyes burned down into me.

BOOK: Rogue
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