Page 49 of His Keepsake


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“Nooo.” Then he stuck a vibe onto her clit, and she ducked her head. Only a small extra whisper of denial came from her before her legs began to shake. I savored the sounds that erupted from her when she was thrown onto the brink of coming.

The hardest part of this night might be saying no to Axl.

In Axl’s SUV, on the way to the party, I ran through his words.

His threats about her friend, and strangling Emme with a rosary had been repeated after he took the vibe off her. He was definitely banned from fucking her. He would not be pleased, but she was mine for the week. Not his.

Emme was seated beside me in the back of the SUV, dressed in the black catsuit with the big, easy-undo zips. Her hands were in mittens—and even opening a door would be difficult. Using a cell phone? Impossible. The butt-plug tail and bit gag waited in my toy bag, to be inserted on arrival.

I flicked the cat ears, and she tilted her head toward me. The blackout goggles with their pinhead view-holes detracted from the costume, but they made it difficult to run, and anyone in front of her would look distorted. The bit gag would make her drool, which was a plus and a minus.

“We’ll need to give her water, so she doesn’t dehydrate.”

“Sure.” Axl angled his head toward us but kept eyes on the road.

He turned down a small side road. The brightness flickering through the trees likely marked our destination. We drove into a clearing where a helicopter sat with its lights strobing the night, and the rotors lazily spinning.

“This will take us to the party. You have to wear a blindfold once we’re in the air. Rules. Sorry.” He shrugged. “Not my house, not my rules.”

“A helicopter, Axl?”

He shrugged. “You mightn’t have come if I’d said the truth.”

I thought about arguing but this was how Axl operated, sometimes. He bent the truth.

Besides, having to ride in a fucking helicopter to get to it made this party even more enticing.

“Okay. Sure.”

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