“How much do I owe you?” Tessa didn’t have the money for this indulgence, but she needed it for her peace of mind. Too bad her rent was almost due and she was about a hundred bucks short, but she’d figure it out later. Maybe one of the bosses would cut her a final check when they fired her. Then she’d have to start looking for another job immediately, maybe two. And she’d have to find less expensive daycare…somewhere.But none of those problems were more important than Zy.“Nothing,” he assured. “It’s all been taken care of.”Why? And by whom? “I don’t understand.”He just smiled. “I see you’re cuddling with your little one. I’m glad she’s okay. Mind if I help myself to some water?”“Of course not. I would get it for you, but…” She glanced down at Hallie. She slept like a child who hadn’t rested well in days. Probably because she hadn’t.Minutes after the last shot had been fired at the mobile home they’d infiltrated, the police and ambulances had come. The coroner, too. The next whil
“I know.”“But maybe we have a ray of hope on the horizon. Laila has agreed to act as bait to try to draw Kimber’s kidnappers out, so we’re working on that. Hopefully soon.”Tessa knew exactly how Trees would feel about that, and she felt sorry for the guy. He wasn’t going to be able to protect or keep her from this, no matter how hard he tried.“Yeah. By the way, I’m sorry for mixing you up with Aspen when I went on maternity leave.”He gave her a reassuring smile. “You didn’t know.”“But I knew Cash was a jerk. I should have at least considered the fact that any contact of his wasn’t a good idea.” And now they were both gone. The brief conversation she’d had with Craig had been heartbreaking. The man was not only crushed to lose his son but stunned to learn he’d helped drug dealers kidnap his own daughter and spied for Emilo Montilla before his demise—all for money. Despicable, but she was sorry for Craig that Cash’s greed had led to his death.“You always want to believe the best a
“Wha… I don’t… Someone almost killed you? This morning?”“What the fuck do you think I do for a living? I take down bad guys. Every. Single. Day. And you’ve been enabling them for a buck. But not anymore. I’m stopping it. They also kidnapped my girlfriend’s daughter. They put a gun to her head. She’s an infant. And it was all coordinated on your fucking app. Won’t that look good in the press, especially after you banned people so publicly for merely talking about government overreach because you thought they might get violent? These people are violent—and they’re criminals. Give me a fucking break.”“Son…”The emotional appeal in that one word pissed him off. “Don’t call me that.”“But you are.”“In blood only. If you don’t want me to go to the press with everything I have—accounts, screenshots, secret groups that clearly violate your terms of service—you ban every one of those motherfuckers and you live up to your promise of a safe platform. If you don’t, in twenty-four hours everyth
“Same here,” Zy cut in. “I’m not medically cleared for the next forty-eight hours.”“Concussion protocol?”He nodded. “If I have one, it’s mild. I lost consciousness at the scene and woke up with a bitch of a headache. But it’s getting better. They monitored me for hours, even after all the tests. But they still want me to be cautious.”“Gotcha. Apology accepted? You’re coming back soon?” Logan asked like it very much mattered to him.“Yeah.” They might have fucked up, but they meant well. After dealing with his dad, he knew how critical that distinction was.“Thanks. We don’t know when or if we’ll return to normal, so…um, keep on being in charge.”“All right. But we should spell Kane. He needs a break.”“Yeah. Call us later. Jack and Deke are willing to loan us one of theirs. We haven’t met Trevor except in passing, but he’s got to be a good guy if his nickname for One-Mile is Serial Killer.”They all forced a laugh at the joke, but the truth was, after everything they’d been through
His gaze stopped on her gold-colored wrist cuffs, and his face hardened into solid rock. “Here go, dude?” he repeated softly; then his voice turned cold. “What is your name, trainee?”Oh crap. “I’m Gabrielle”—don’t say Sir, don’t say Sir—“Sir.” The respectful term slipped out; she just couldn’t hold it in under his ruthless stare. Damn, he and Master Marcus had this intimidating stuff down to a science. Don’t let him psych you out. She tsk-tsked at him. “My grandmother said you shouldn’t frown like that because your face might stay that way.”“She’s got a death wish,” he said under his breath. Rising—and oh, joy—the guy was as tall as Marcus. He gripped her arm and glanced at his sub. “Wait here, Kari. I’ll return in a second.”“Yes, Sir,” his sub said and gave Gabrielle an appalled look.After glancing around, the dom dragged Gabi across the room to a station where a domme caned a potbellied, older man. Gabi winced as the man’s gag-muffled groan followed each whacking noise. The nast
"I love the way that dress looks on you," I told her, the TV visible to us both."I think you love the way it looks right there," she said, glancing back at me before turning her eyes on the crumpled blue fabric on the floor, hastily discarded only a few minutes ago."I do prefer it there," I said, giving a firm smack to her ass just as I pulled my cock almost fully from inside her. I admired the thick, glistening coat on it from her arousal before sliding it back in confidently, relishing her satisfied moan as my tip touched the edge of her cervix."Just fuck me," Kat said. "I've been needing this.""You always need it, you fucking slut," I said, speeding up my thrusts."Especially today," she said. "It's date night."I slammed my cock into her and held it inside her. She turned her head toward me again and bit her lip, the sign that she was feeling especially naughty. My eyes lit up."Where is he taking you?" I asked."That new sushi place everyone's talking about," she said. See-an
The two nights between Wednesday and Friday passed in a blur. Work had been busy, but it was always busy. I had been working on a couple deals in Europe, which made Kat's 3:30 a.m. schedule easier to accommodate, since there were a lot of early morning calls. I thought a lot about what seemed like it should be a great stroke of luck. Here was the cute local traffic girl, with her pristine image, implying there was a deep, very dark side to her. And she lived a short walk away. The boyfriend aspect didn't bother me. Maybe I was blinded by desire, thinking with my little head. It never worked out that a vague social media infatuation turned into something tangible. The situation with Kat felt different, though.I contemplated this as I crossed Allen Parkway to Buffalo Bayou Park, wearing jogging clothes. I walked over the pedestrian bridge above Memorial Drive and through the broken gate I had used two nights earlier. This was an unusual tryst--if that's what it would become--to say the
I got back to my apartment just after 4 a.m., and I was buzzing like I hadn't in a long time. There was an unexpected yet obvious quality to all of it. In two months, Kat Freely had gone from a fringe social media acquaintance at the periphery of my thoughts to... what? As I showered and tried to focus on the work day ahead, my thoughts kept wandering back to Kat. I worried that perhaps it was a one-time thing, and it surprised me how vehemently I recoiled at the idea. How many one-night stands have there been in the last ten years alone? Dozens. I shook it all off. I had work to focus on. I checked my watch, intent on going into the office early, and saw it was 4:57 a.m. I turned on the TV and tuned it to KBRK. I took my coffee and sat down on the couch, waiting for the first traffic report.A couple live, local, late-breaking headlines later, on came Kat Feely. She beamed, looking cheerful and collected in a blue dress, her hands animated as she talked about the building rush hour.